A Chronicle of the 82nd Omicron Guard from the RND Caissan Regiments in the 3303 Clanwar.
First Round
The luck was thrown: The strategists of the R&D Staff who had plan the master lines for this current war had mistake their calculations by a thin margin as a blink… But that mistake was enough to make the Galactic Senate to fix the 82nd Omicron Guard in a higher and unexpected division: The sixth instead the seventh were we could just trample towards the victory. Instead, we had a harsh panorama where our chances got drastically lowered.
When the news arrived to our Caissan Winter Headquarters, the reactions were diverse: Shock and surprise for some, deep thoughts for others, excitation for many.
The Squad Commanders ran to accelerate the preparation for the oncoming carnage and re-calibrating the mechs for the new required maneuvers and tactics… But some, some felt a warmly dance in their stomachs, tasting the flavor of the true risk of war, the taste of the unknown, the adventure that, after all, is a common and old Lady all we met and beloved since our careers as mech pilots started.
Soon, the first squadrons were ready to jump into the battlefields chosen by the Senate in secret deliberation, allowing the participants to know the exactly location a short lapse de time before so no one clan could acquire advantage by scanning the terrain before than any other.
The Niobium signatures opening the gateways were received and without anymore delay, our Commanders led towards the adventure to our well trained companies, leaving the cold plains and white fjords of the blue Caissa, a cold planet in surface, but inhabited by a population with a burning passion in their hearts.
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I checked personally the formations of my squad from my Commanding mech “Absolute Zero”, a tuned Boreas in which I had the honor to conquer the Gold in the last Faction War. And line after line, we vanished from Caissa towards an uncertain future.
Our first opponent, randomly selected by the super computers of OMNIA (Omniscient Millenary Numbers Intelligence Array), was Defenders of Bunny. Some of the old school pilots could remember only a time when the 82nd Omicron Guard was young and the head lance of the R&D battalions, they had a war in division six, where they got defeated by an early but strong Zeon Clan... The good of our elder veterans had fought yet in almost every battlefield along the wide and far galaxy and for them, every classic clan was like an old known fellow.
There we were and in the horizon, we could spot a thin pink and pale line of enemy mechs, some hundred miles away and only well reachable with the support of our drone assisted telemetry from a grey and harsh sky, ornate with three carried moons. All right: the Proximal Xenia planet was not what we could call as a Paradise for holidays, but as battlefield seemed excellent as everyone could fight there without being afraid of the ambient environments and the biological hazards.
I requested from Marie a bigger image from our far telemetry systems to better scan our opponent... (Marie is the IA I had installed in my commanding Boreas and which remembers me my true love… But this is another story that I will keep for a different time as she doesn’t matter now).
The first images arrived distorted by the strong magnetic field of Xenia, but soon fixed with the re-calibration of the drone sensors I could finally appreciate the deadly and annoying chassis shape of the Defenders of Bunny. A short tremble assaulted me while looking the bizarre enemy mechs… Those machines of mass destruction looked sinister with those deviant painted bunnies extracted from some nightmare… Their Crest showed a bloodthirsty rabbit with a razor in his hand and as motto… ka-click...Bizarre!
Naive and innocent bunny’s weapon till their shark like teeth? By all means, if we were not veterans who already saw almost everything, we could scare with those insidious distortions of innocence as in a psychological attack… but crap, our many pilots already had received their fire baptism after many battles and the enemy’s war pictures couldn’t even make us blink. Oh man, I am ashamed to say I took this as a personal goal as my first girlfriend loved the rabbits and I get really annoyed when I meet anything reminding me to her, so I decided to scrap every one of their painted chassis and crests with some focused devotion.
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As the arbiters signal to start the battle got spread and the inhibitors keeping our mechas in stand by turned off and the action started.
Hello there, Bunnies. Did you have a decent master of dance? Let’s play then!
And the battle started with the squadrons of Mochammad Amirullah and Sean Wadey trampling in a crazy run towards an enemy that seemed cautious, evaluating our forces in a defensive stance before counterattack.
Our cockpits became to boil with the rivers of battle data and tempered orders flowing from our many scans into our IAs, allowing us to reevaluate each small action and supporting us to take fast decisions in the term of micro seconds.
The first blood split was from our enemy and in the middle of the sudden battle storm, appeared among the fog and the confusion the squad of one of their heroes: Bolverk Borson, who charged against our fellows Joe and Amir.
The luck was threw, soon the fields were covered by the battle fog, the hell like flames, the numerous laser beams, curtains of projectiles, rain of missiles, explosions and sudden mech statues of ice crystal, reflecting the many lights as if the most beauty fireworks were thrown. There is always a split of second where I get in ecstasies before the luminescence fireworks from the weaponry. I pledge that sometimes, that show is so incredible than the IA gets forced to drag me outside my statuary status.
So I didn’t lose more time and led my squad towards the very center of the war theater.
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A dense fog was hugging the burned soil, showing sometimes the remnants from what it was some hours before some deadly and gallard looking battle mechs.
There you could find some scraps showing the Big O emblem, the banner of our Clan, but more of them, showed the rabid rabbit of our enemy.
When a sudden big wind gust spread enough of that dense fog, allowing us to spot a wide portion of the battlefield, I got surprised by the bloody feast we caused… So after all, our debut in the Sixth division was not as bad.
By the operative channel we heard the short words of our Commandant, Jeff Pizanti: “Jacque Mate”… So all got said, and soon, I started to catch the hooray s of victory of our boys.
This is, while our reckon squads completed the patrol through the rough terrain looking for any last resistance; I could admire the remnants of a sea of expensive garbage made with thousands of tons of ferrite, bioptics, crystal and Niodes… Niode matrices even burning some of which maybe could be rescued… Of course, we are gentlemen and we allowed to the Bunnies to recover their own remnants and lick their wounds in peace. The battle had succeed in an honorable way and I have to admit that now, when I find a painted rabbit chassis, I don’t frown recalling that ex-girlfriend of old… but with admiration to an opponent who when he knew he was overwhelmed, he fought with courage and valor, never falling in desperation.
I hail you, Bunnies.
Later, the judges reported us the score for this first round: 146 vs. 71… We just trampled our opponents during the battle!
Another good news: no one got real casualties (aside the several and incredible expensive mechs damaged), so all we could celebrate a decent enough victory as the Bunnies could at least extract some important lessons to use to try kick our arses in our future encounters.
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Encouraged by our first victory, some started to ex-peculate about our opening chances to conquer the appreciated gold, approaching the 82nd another step in the path of our long time unbeatable brothers of our insignia ship: the glorious and shiny 99th Chessmen [R&D Core], our star unit.
Then, the base megaphone announced the scores for the other divisions and clans…
FUSION, the favorite in div1 after the mysterious vanish of the legendary and eternal Cyberstorm, obtained a great victory consolidating the previsions of everyone… Below the First Division, the prestigious names succeeded one after all, all of them without surprises, confirming our bets, until they mentioned the results for the tenth division, announcing the fall of our beloved brothers of the 99th Chessmen.
A shock for many of us, that the honey of our victory could hardly cover.
Yes, we knew that silver couldn’t be a trouble for our dethroned brothers and the gold in their division now seemed clear to end in the hands of those who defeated our fellows… One of those many AFF flagged Clans: the Avenger.
I believe Avenger made honor to their battle name, as they effectively revenged to the many AFF flags that along the time felt before the power and triumphal march of the Chessmen...
End of Round One...
Submitted by Germán Jaramillo Pulido ID # 685605