A Weapon to Surpass...(Metal Gear Solid/Battletech)

[TheOmnimercurial]

I am very much liking this! ^_^

I hope they have a few quasi Clan Mechs like the Behemoth/Stone Rhino or the Mercury II etc...

I forget, is this prior to or post the Wolverine Annihalation?

 

[orwellianorator]

I am very much liking this! ^_^

I hope they have a few quasi Clan Mechs like the Behemoth/Stone Rhino or the Mercury II etc...

I forget, is this prior to or post the Wolverine Annihalation?

Click to shrink...

Post by like, over a hundred years.

And they don't have anything super special to them, just old Star League mechs.

Granted, the Atlas II is a star league mech, but the point stands

If you want to speculate, check out the Master Unit listand sort by year. If it's past 2820, then its too new.

www.masterunitlist.info/Era/FactionEraDetails?FactionId=12&EraId=255

 

[orwellianorator]

"I'll fight you myself," Snake declared resolutely. This Jensen Sword looked like he was on steroids, something that was shared with the other people on the ship by the limited glimpses Snake got around the man's head.


"What?" Sword was slightly taken aback by the sudden challenge, not having expected such a direct statement.


"You heard me," Snake said just as quickly, having locked eyes with the muscle-bound invader.


"Legendary Soldier or not, you are a fool. Do you simply wish to spare your comrades the insult of defeat?"


"Are you afraid? Do you not want to see me kick your ass personally instead of through the windows of a big, safe cockpit?" Snake pressed the attack, sensing weakness. Honor on the battlefield was just leverage that he could use to his advantage. From his impressions, the man was from a warrior culture, and probably saw cowardice as weakness and wouldn't be able to take an insult like this standing. He could see the man's face tighten as his words hit their mark. "I'll fight every single one of you myself. In groups or at once, hand to hand combat. Use your mechs, use your tanks, use whatever you've got, if you're too scared to fight me man to man. But I won't need help either way."


The look on the so-called Star Captain's face was nothing short of livid. The man's teeth clenched and a vein popped out of his forehead as his insults struck home. The insult to his 'honor' was more than enough to goad him into action.


"You dare insult my honor! We shall meet you in a Circle of Equals, Solid Snake, in unaugmented combat! You won't even have the opportunity to fight my Star of Elementals, I will crush you myself." Jensen Sword bit out furiously, as angered shouts were heard in the background before the transmission cut off.


Hal looked at Snake resolutely, but somewhat irritated at the situation the man had put himself in. Ordinarily, a bunch of fights back to back would be worrisome, but Hal had seen more than enough of Snake's fighting ability to have full confidence in the soldier.


"Snake, believe me when I say that I have full faith in you, but what the hell! How in the world did you even know that was going to work?" Otacon cried out in exasperation. As smart as the scientist was, he still wasn't that good at reading people.


"Well, I could tell from his dilated pupils, distended muscles, and the consistent layer of sweat on his forehead that he was some form of long term substance abuser," Snake explained matter-of-factly, breaking down and analyzing the man before he had even met him in real life. "Did you see that as soon as I insulted him, he was fighting to hold himself back? He was on a hair trigger, and on top of that he issued me a direct challenge, like a duel, and talked about his honor. Along with his prior statements, it confirms that despite his forces, his own psychology forces him to fight at my level.


Snake watched Otacon nod his head at the lecture he was giving, as the implications began to become clear to the scientist.


"Kind of like a character in a shonen anime, or a Chinese general from Dynasty Warriors, getting called out by the enemy commander!" Otacon exclaimed, grasping the concept immediately. Snake barely knew what his friend was talking about, but nodded in agreement to keep the conversation moving instead of letting Hal sit and talk to him about the intricacies of anime for half an hour.


"Exactly. He even declared his forces as 'a full binary of trueborn Clan warriors', and then at the end, when he said he would crush me himself, that was personal. He legitimately took what I said as a slight to his honor, and leapt at the chance to put me in my place." Psychology wasn't something that Snake considered himself an expert in, but he was still quite proficient at reading people and the Star Captain was an open book.


"I see," Otacon said, rubbing his chin, before sending out a message to all their forces. They would stand down and allow the invaders to land, but they would be ready in case of any duplicity.


Giving Otacon one last nod, Snake proceeded to turn around and walk out of the command room, heading towards the training ground. A small track and field section had been made, with an obstacle course nearby. Clean white lines marked out a twenty foot square where sparring was normally held, and there were a set of bleachers for the civilians to use.


It was good enough for his purposes.


Slowly, his men streamed out of the base and took position a distance away, lined up in perfect columns. They stood at attention, with his Power Armor squad at the head. Off in the distance, Snake could hear his people in their mechs, stomping around and moving into position. He wasn't expecting them to have to do anything, though. The invaders would stick to their word, he knew their type, and no amount of muscle-bound, roided out barbarians could beat him when it came to CQC.


Otacon had transmitted the incoming 'Goliath Scorpions' a flight path for them to land, in one of the open fields nearby. Coincidentally, the landing area was within overlapping lines of fire between two of the defense turrets, but that didn't factor into the decision at all. Not in the slightest.


As the minutes turned to hours, and Snake enjoyed a bottle of water courtesy of Clara, he could see off in the distance a bright speck in the sky, one that slowly grew larger as time passed. An immaculate dropship approached, freshly painted and armed to the teeth. Within five minutes, they were hovering over the top of the field, lowering to the ground with a loud thump as the landing gears took the weight of the massive dropship. With a hiss, the doors opened and the ramp began to lower, to reveal a platoon of lightly clothed, nine-foot tall barbarians, both men and women, that made Vulcan Raven look small. At the head was a man that wasn't nearly as intimidating, being only about 6'2", but was still built like a brick shithouse. They all walked like trained killers, and not the drug addicts that he had initially believed.


…Okay, Snake still had confidence in his plan, but it might not be quite as simple as he thought.

 

[orwellianorator]

"So, you are the one called Solid Snake. I thought you would be taller," the Star Captain sneered as he approached the painted circle. Standing just outside of it, Sword folded his arms and glared at Snake, clearly still upset with the insults Snake had laid upon him. His four lieutenants, the ones that clearly weren't nine foot tall behemoths, all stood behind him. In the rear, thirty of the so-called 'Elementals' glared silently at Snake, and the legendary soldier couldn't help but think about how they looked like they could fold Vulcan Raven in half.


"I don't have to be tall to break you," Snake said, dismissively, hands held loosely at his side instead of in a proper guard and turned. to the side rather than squaring up for a fight. Acting like he didn't believe they were a challenge was the best way to goad an honor-bound 'warrior' to fight on his terms. In reality, he was fully centered and in the most basic stance of Taekwondo. "Are we doing this one on one, or in groups?"


"This shall be unaugmented single combat, one after the other, with thirty seconds between each defeated fighter. There are to be no weapons, nor armor. Any interference is to be punished by death. We will fight until you are broken and claimed as a bondsman, or we are. All the possessions of the defeated are to be claimed as isorla. Are these terms acceptable to you, Solid Snake?" Star Captain Sword boomed out, as he declared the rules for the bout. The man had crippled his forces, and Snake couldn't help but try to hold back a smile as the Clan warriors played right into his hands.


"That sounds good. I'll gladly crush you all one at a time," Snake declared confidently. The sneer on the Star Captain's face grew at that statement, and he merely grasped a flask hanging from his hip.


"Well bargained and done!" He shouted, throwing back the contents of the flask and stepping into the ring as he threw it to the ground and his pupils dilating, veins popping up, and mouth beginning to foam as the drug entered his system. His eyes were glassy and unfocused, as if he wasn't really seeing Snake, and he howled like an animal. Snake kept his cool as the man screamed a warcry and charged at him with fists raised, only for the soldier to bring his leg in and lash out with a crushing vertical side kick as soon as the Star Captain entered his range. As his boot impacted with the man's jaw, breaking it with a sickening crack, the man's teeth were scattered as he was sent flying into the air, only for Snake to jump after him. Coiling his body, he extended his leg as high as possible and brought it down in a devastating axe kick, breaking bones as he literally bounced the Star Captain off of the concrete and out of the ring. The man's limp body gurgled and choked as Philanthropy's medics began to gather around him before putting him on a stretcher.


Stunned surprise was the main reaction the invaders had to their leader being taken down so quickly. More than that, though, not a single person moved to help their commander. Rather than anger or pity, was hunger in their eyes as they immediately moved from dismissive disapproval to greed at the thought of being the one to defeat him. Within the group, Snake watched as the four column leaders locked eyes and nodded in synchronicity.


Quiet infighting almost immediately began to commence, but before anything could go too far the chaos was strangled in its infancy by a loud whistle that cut through the murmurs. A very large woman, no shorter than two and a half meters tall and with muscles that made pro bodybuilders envious, began verbally tearing into the warriors and a man that was only slightly smaller began organizing the warriors into a line. The remaining two, both Herculean in form and nearly pushing three meters tall approached the ring, having drunk their own flasks of glowing green liquid. Instead of going berserk like the Captain, however, their breathing began to slow and their body movements became much smoother.


"The Star Captain was weak. He could not even properly take your measure, Solid Snake. I am Point Commander Alexander Madsen, and I will be your next opponent." And with that statement, the man stepped into the ring. Snake could already tell that the second round would be far more difficult than the first, as his opponent had seemed to take on something of a Zen quality and got into a stance that Snake recognized: Savate, also known as French kickboxing. In response, Snake switched his own stance, bringing his arms up and raising his knee. The solid defense of Muay Thai would be invaluable against this opponent.


The man's found was incredibly solid, his every movement with purpose. The two of them circled around the ring slowly, taking in each other's form as they kept each other's distance. The reach advantage was massive, and the kicks of a practiced Savate user were no joke, especially not with the chunky pair of boots the man was wearing. The two continued to shuffle around each other for a solid minute, before suddenly Alexander shot forward with explosive force, a snapping kick aimed for Snake's ribcage.


Snapping his right leg up, Snake took the blow with his shin in a high check and ducked under a straight jab from Alexander, scooping his arm around the man's extended leg. Grabbing a hold of his ankle, Snake pulled, yanking the man off balance before jumping up with a flying knee. He was aiming for the stomach, but he hadn't entirely gotten used to fighting people so much taller. As a result, his knee impacted not with the man's torso, but right in between his crotch. It almost made Snake himself wince as he felt more than heard a sickening crack as he connected with the man. Every single man, even the warriors waiting for their turn, flinched back with the phantom pain of the blow.


Alexander crumpled instantly, curled up in a ball and gasping for air. Lowering his leg and staring at the actually fairly skilled fighter in pity, Snake muttered an apology as he grabbed the man by his shoulders and began to drag him to the edge of the ring, so he could receive medical attention.


Looking back at the invaders, Snake almost smiled at how much less eager they were to fight him now.

 

[tenmachi]

"Legendary Soldier".

They knew this, and still they underestimated their foe.

Names like that don't spread if they aren't earned...

 

[orwellianorator]

"Legendary Soldier".

They knew this, and still they underestimated their foe.

Names like that don't spread if they aren't earned...

Click to shrink...

But they're clanners

Their superiority is guaranteed, even if their opponent is some legendary soldier. One man stands no chance against a Star of Elementals!

...right?

 

[tenmachi]

But they're clanners

Their superiority is guaranteed, even if their opponent is some legendary soldier. One man stands no chance against a Star of Elementals!

...right?

Click to shrink...

And that, that right there, is why they're in for a catastrophically bad day.

A brave soldier doesn't fear his opponent or what they can do.

A wise soldier never assumes their opponent can't do something.

To do otherwise is like inviting Mr. Murphy over and then spilling his beer on his good shoes. It's never going to end well.

 

[orwellianorator]

And that, that right there, is why they're in for a catastrophically bad day.

A brave soldier doesn't fear his opponent or what they can do.

A wise soldier never assumes their opponent can't do something.

To do otherwise is like inviting Mr. Murphy over and then spilling his beer on his good shoes. It's never going to end well.

Click to shrink...

The two biggest issue clanners have is their inability to not have infighting between each other, and their inability to see spheroids as anything other than inferior.

Unfortunately for them, that's usually why they lose all the time

 

[orwellianorator]

AN: my spotify and PS+ subscriptions expired and so I'm writing again.

Snake watched as his medic staff dragged away his most recent opponent with the help of a couple of his soldiers. Already the rest of his staff, twelve mostly trained medical personnel, were treating his newest victims. It was regrettable, what happened to the point commander. Madsen was polite enough for a drug addict, more so than many of Snake's previous opponents, and had actually had some middling skill. He didn't deserve to go down like that. His brother, another point commander named Allen LeClair, took no offense at it, either, but he did get taken down in a more dignified manner.

The Star Captain, on the other hand, had been long past due his beating.

The men arrayed to fight Snake had decidedly lost some enthusiasm after watching him crush the point commander, but much to their credit, none of them hesitated to step into the ring. It might have had something to do with the glowing green serum they had taken, but even after the examples he made of each and every new combatant, they all came at him relentlessly.

Especially the women.

Now, Snake was not unfamiliar with sexually aggressive combatants. He'd fought plenty of them, after all, and he wasn't a teenage virgin to get flustered at the thought of sex. It just felt much more unsettling when the one doing it was eight feet tall. Snake tried to make quick work of them, but it was clear that the warriors weren't all drug addicted narcissists. After his first two battles, his opponents were sacrificial, and he could clearly see that the smarter warriors were intentionally wearing him down and studying him.

The two remaining commanders watched him like a hawk, and he could feel their eyes on his back, picking his fighting style apart. They shared low, short words with each other that he couldn't hear, and would quietly give directions to waiting warriors. As he dispatched each new enemy, and the next stepped up, he could tell that they had been instructed to start drawing it out, and unfortunately it was working. Twenty-seven - make that twenty-eight, Snake thought as he struck his opponent with a roundhouse kick and knocking them unconcious- fights back to back had significantly drained his stamina, and it seemed that they were coaching each other on his moves while he beat their underlings, swapping observations on his fighting style in a way that almost seemed counterintuitive to his initial thoughts of their culture.

As he dumped the beaten body of the last of the underlings with his medical team, Snake breathed heavily as he eagerly accepted a water bottle from Marcus. Glancing back at the last three invaders, they were still trying to hash out who fought him next as their teamwork seemed to devolve. He was more than willing to take the quick break, and took deep breaths to center himself, before his attention was drawn back to Marcus.

"Boss, here, take this," Snake heard as Marcus pressed a bottle of pills into his hands. "Delivery from the egghead, supposed to be a pick-me-up. If these pendejos can use performance enhancers, you can too."

Snake stared at the Capellan for just a moment before he nodded and opened the bottle. He wasn't going to argue, the man was right. Quickly pouring a couple white pills into his mouth and crushing them up, he closed the bottle and stuck it in his pocket. As the drug kicked in, Snake was surprised at how quickly it worked. He could feel the blood pumping through his veins with more clarity than ever, and the pain of the bruises and cuts he had taken disappeared. He felt his world slow down slightly as his lagging focus grew sharp, and he breathed deeply as he felt much more energetic than he had before. Quickly thanking his friend, he turned back around as his next opponent approached the ring.

The last remaining woman, a redhead that towered over him, grinned as she stepped into the ring.

"I love it when a man is as good with his hands as you are," growled his current opponent in a husky voice. Snake ignored her as the two of them circled around the ring after she settled into a familiar stance. Russian Sambo, a grappling mixed martial art, something that would be devastating if she got a hold of him. "I am Point Commander Elizabet Zuric, Bloodnamed Warrior of Clan Goliath Scorpion. When I take you as a bondsman, I will allow you to warm my bed at night."

"It won't be any more possible for you than it was for everybody else, Wonder Woman." Snake fired back as he examined her stance. She was solid, and seemed rooted to the ground, barely shifting her feet to shuffle sideways. She was clearly more of a defensive fighter, and Snake mentally resigned himself.

He hated grapple battles.

The tension around the ring grew as the two of them slowly shuffled towards each other. They both could tell that the other was a master grappler, and that underestimation would cost victory. They approached each other, closing the distance agonizingly slowly to the audience, before finally, she struck. Reaching out an arm with incredible speed, she used her increased reach to her advantage and grasped at his shirt, before he deflected her arm and grabbed her wrist with both hands in preparation for a throw. In response, however, she stepped into it, flinging herself forward with his throw but grasping his wrist and hooking her leg around his, taking him with her on her way down. In response he lashed out with a brutal kick to her ribs and knocked the air out of her. Snake used the opportunity to twist out of her crushing grip before quickly rolling away.

Climbing to his feet, he felt a bead of sweat roll down his face as he kept a laser focused gaze on the woman and rubbed his wrist where she grabbed him. If he got stuck on the ground and pinned, it would be over. Taking a deep breath, he waited as she started to get up before rushing forward and launching a snap kick to her side. Unfortunately, she was expecting that, and took the blow only to grab him as he made contact and rolled back, wrapping her arms and legs around his leg. Twisting his body around, he instead used torsion to bend his knee out of the line of her grapple, curling around her body and attempting to put her in a leg lock.

To most of the spectators, it was a writhing mess of limbs, but the trained fighters were watching this chain of grapples and counters that seemed like it had no end. But it would come soon enough, as Snake finally got his legs around her arm and grabbed her in an armbar, before twisting his legs and applying a triangle choke to her neck. With his prodigious strength, he kept pressure on her arm and neck, even as she grew frantic and began thrashing. Finally, before she stopped moving entirely, Snake felt her tap out, surprising him with her surrender. Releasing his hold on her arm, the two of them separated and Snake climbed to his feet.

Picking the red-faced woman up and throwing her over his shoulders, he brought her to the nearest waiting security member, who stuck her in cuffs before leading her away. She was the first person that hadn't needed to be put in traction, and he took a deep breath before looking back at the remaining fighter. A single man, slightly on the shorter side compared to the rest of them, but clearly much more dangerous.

It looked like this last fighter might be the toughest yet.

 

[TheOmnimercurial]

Glad to read more of your stuff again! ^_^

 

[orwellianorator]

Snake steadied his breathing while he watched the approaching warrior step towards the ring. Snake's blood was pumping and he was ready to finish this, so he drew into his stance again. From the way he walked, he almost seemed like some sort of boxer. With the man stepping into the circle, Snake's focus heightened in anticipation of one final fight.


He was shorter, but stockier than most of the other fighters. He had curly brown hair and a jawline that looked like it was chiseled from rocks, but behind his brutish exterior Snake could see a great deal of cunning in his eyes. He was right when he observed him at a distance, the man was clearly one of the smarter of these enemies. Snake took a quick breath as his body began to shift positions…


And then the man crossed his arms and stood tall, speaking loudly.


"I am Point Commander Gideon Schaffer of the Goliath Scorpion Clan, and I cannot defeat you. Your skills in combat are peerless, as we should have expected from the Legendary Soldier. If I could, I would request hegira, Solid Snake."


Instantly, most of the tension was cut as Snake's anticipation deflated.


"Hegira?" Snake asked, slightly puzzled.


"Honorable withdrawal from battle, without any further loss of life or equipment," said the man, stone-faced as he stared directly at Snake.


"So you want to retreat? Your buddies didn't seem that interested in giving up," Snake noted suspiciously as he approached the man. He was ready to retaliate should he be attacked, but it seemed that the final invader meant his words.


"'We are of the Clans. We do not surrender'," the man scoffed, a slight edge of sarcasm to his voice. "Not every one of us is a fool like Sword. I can recognize patterns, and would prefer not to have my arms and legs broken. Should you deny my request, then I will fight, but do not try to tell me that you and I are unaware of how that would end, quiaff?"


"You come in, try to abduct me, and then try to negotiate for good treatment?," Snake growled as the man nodded in response.


"Neg. The Star Colonel challenged you to a Trial of Possession in an attempt to claim you and your belongings as isorla. I have not."


From behind his back, Snake heard somebody mutter "He's got a point…" before the sound of a slap reached his ears. Ignoring the peanut gallery, he debated the matter internally, never letting his eyes off the giant standing across from him.


"And you agreed. 'Just following orders' doesn't work as an excuse," Snake said slowly as he shuffled in place and settled back into a fighting stance. "I can't just let you leave. You know that, right?"


Gideon smiled grimly as he unfolded his arms and got into his own stance, a more traditional boxing guard.


"Then you will have to beat me!" He shouted as he rapidly rushed at Snake, throwing a blisteringly fast series of punches at the soldier. Gideon was relentless, using his much longer limbs to his advantage in keeping himself out of easy reach of retaliation.


Snake weathered the storm of blows like a leaf in the wind, flowing around the attacks as if they weren't even there. No matter how hard he tried, Gideon couldn't even touch the soldier despite his onslaught. Snake didn't even retaliate at first, simply allowing the man to wear himself out throwing useless punches. To be fair, if they connected it would be devastating and Snake really didn't want to get hit.


If they connected.


It took a little while to wear down his opponent's resolve, and sensing that his time to strike was now he dodged around another jab. Nearly without effort, Snake stepped forward and reached his arms out to grasp the outstretched arm, hooked his foot around Gideon's legs, and pulled the man off balance. The size difference worked against him as Snake flipped the man onto his back, impacting the ground hard enough to knock the wind completely out of him.


Snake simply stood over the groaning giant of a man, who merely laid there in defeat. Snake had to give Gideon credit, he was throwing out punches like they were going out of style, but they would have hurt.


"It's over. I win this 'Trial' of yours," Snake said as he looked at the panting and gasping warrior. "That means that all of you are my 'bondsmen', with you and all your property being 'isorla', right?"


"...Aff," wheezed Gideon, who stared up at Snake with awe clearly visible on his face. It was a feature shared by everybody on the outskirts watching him, before the cheers rang out. His friends and soldiers were cheering at the spectacle, having just gotten the opportunity to watch Snake beat down thirty people back to back. Slightly raising his voice to speak over the increased noise, Snake looked down at the warrior with respect.


"Then you get to spend the rest of the day in a temporary holding cell. Be awake at 500 hours for PT."


Rushing forward towards Snake, Hal ran up to him and grabbed him by the shoulders with Marcus and Clara following close behind as members of the security team came to collect Gideon. He didn't even fight them when three of them picked him up off the ground and led him into the base, merely nodding at Snake as he was taken away.


"Snake, that was amazing, it was like I was watching Ip Man!" Hal exclaimed as he checked over Snake for wounds. "Are you okay? Everything's fine?"


"I'll be fine, Otacon. Listen, that drug you gave me is starting to wear off, so I need you to get a strike team together and capture the jumpship they came on." Snake looked at Marcus and Clara seriously as he gave them their orders. "I want a full inventory of what and who they've brought with them, understood?"


"Yessir, Boss," Both Marcus and Clara saluted simultaneously, much to each other's annoyance. The two shared a glare at one another only for Clara to look back at Snake and asked,


"What are you going to do for now, Snake?"


"Me?" Snake scoffed before gesturing towards the medical tent he had forced his people to set up to care for the people he just put in traction. "I already did the hard part, the rest is on you all. I'm taking a damn nap."

 

[KillerFish]

Never underestimate the power of a nap!

 

[orwellianorator]

Snake cheerily sipped his coffee as he watched his new 'bondsmen' go through morning drills, and he was extremely impressed at their performance.


The ones that could move freely, that is.


"Lift those legs, recruits! For being freaks of science you don't seem to be all that tough!" Marcus yelled at the group of six of the 'Elementals' that were still fit for training. Each one was wearing a set of newly fabricated XXXXXL-sized combat gear, weighted down with over two-hundred kilos, and they kept up a good pace. Still, even if they weren't doing badly, there was no need to let any of them get a big head. "¡Mi abuela corre más rápido que eso!"


Snake took a deep swig of his coffee and looked back at Billy, the soldier flanking him and taking his own observations. The man had been more than eager to join Snake in really seeing how far the new recruits could push their limits, after all. As they began pulling themselves up a ten meter rope, Billy spoke up.


"You know, I watched you pick these guys apart, Boss, but it seems way more impressive now that I know they would have crushed us. Did you see the armor the guys unloaded from the ship?"


"Yeah… Gideon said they were called Water Elemental Mining Suits. Otacon was all over them as soon as he saw them. Said they'd be invaluable for upgrading the Emergency Rescue Suits," Snake grumbled, tipping back his cup and drinking the dregs of his coffee.


"I'm more interested in the new mechs they brought," Billy said as he nudged Snake in the ribs. "That Marauder was at least ten tons heavier than normal, and the tech they were pulling out? Sally was all over those weapons. I didn't even recognize the last mech they brought off, but it looks so badass, Boss. Like a freaky cross between a Marauder and a Catapult."


"Hrmmm… if their gear performs as well as they do, then I'm glad they didn't get to use it all," Snake admitted as he watched Marcus fire a gun above their heads as they crawled through a mud pit. It warmed his heart every time he watched a recruit crawl out of the mud in full gear looking like they'd rather be anywhere else, even if these ones were much more capable than any he'd had previously.


"I'll say. I don't know about you, Boss, but I don't particularly feel inclined to get press-ganged again," Snake's second-in-command said as he pulled out a whistle. Blowing through it loudly, the piercing note cut through the shouts and gunfire to grab the attention of everybody on the field.


"Recruits, form up! Front and center!" Billy yelled in a more than respectable frog voice. As the last of the elemental warriors climbed to their feet and began jogging over to the two soldiers, Snake finished his coffee and handed the cup off to one of the civilians that had taken it on themselves to act as service staff, just in time for all six of his newest recruits to line themselves in front of him, panting heavily but not looking worse for wear. 'Clan Goliath Scorpion' built these guys different.


"Good job, recruits, you completed the bare minimum requirements for me to consider you combat capable! But the bare minimum isn't good enough!" Billy screamed as he marched up to one of the mud covered recruits, Snake and Marcus watching silently. "Tell me your name, maggot!!"


"Aft, I am Warrior Jorge, of-" the man started before Billy hooked his foot around the man's ankle and executed one of the most textbook judo throws Snake had ever seen him do on the unsuspecting recruit. He was so proud of Billy, the man had turned into a real soldier.


"WRONG!" Billy yelled in the man's face as he lay on the ground. "YOU ARE NOTHING! I don't give a damn if you are the goddamn long-lost First Lord of Star League! You are Private Jorge of Philanthropy! Your past is irrelevant! You are a tool of order in a chaotic world!" Billy shouted so loudly in the fallen man's face that spittle flew from his mouth. "When you address a superior officer you begin and end every statement with the word 'sir', do you understand me!? WHAT is your NAME, MAGGOT?!"


"Sir, Private Jorge of Philanthropy, sir!"


"Private Jorge, roll over and give me sixty pushups!" Billy screamed before he leaned up and walked back in front of the rest of the recruits. "You all think you're hot shit, but we will change that! We will disabuse you of the notion that you are anything other than more resources in our fight for peace! We will break you down and build you back up as protectors of the people, whether you scum like it or not! Do you understand?!"


At once all six of the recruits yelled in sync.


"""Sir, Yes Sir!"""


"Then get your asses to the showers and head to the mess hall, after chow your next assignment is to evaluate your education with Doctor Emmerich! Dismissed!" Billy shouted before all six immediately turned and marched away, following a nearby soldier who began to lead them through the base.


As soon as they turned away Billy cracked open his thermos of coffee and began to gingerly sip it as he coughed.


"Boss, I hate yelling like that," he complained to Snake. "It messes my throat up. Why couldn't you have gotten one of Callaghan's guys to play Drill sergeant for you? They were actually in the military."


"Stop grumbling, you did great. It's necessary that these guys see you as someone worthy of respect or you undermine your position as my second-in-command," Snake explained calmly as he slapped Billy on the shoulder. "You've been practicing your Judo, that throw was excellent."


Billy smiled at the praise, happy that his efforts had been noticed.


"I just don't want to be useless outside of a mech, you know?"


"Trust me, Billy, you're shaping up into a fantastic officer," Snake said with a confident grin. "In fact, I think you're just about ready."


"Ready? For what?" Billy asked, suddenly looking nervous.


"For running your own missions, of course!"

 

[orwellianorator]

"Well, they aren't cigarettes, so I won't stop you, especially since this stuff isn't much different from pentazemin. Apparently, it's a big reason why the pirates even started to come here anyway," Otacon said as he led Snake through the facility, having finally finished the secret project that he'd been working on. A new mech prototype, the scientist was incredibly giddy with excitement. It was something he'd been working on for months, since before the trip to Solaris even, so to see it unveiled was more than enough to pique Snake's interest. "You will have to put that out before entering the lab, though. Even if it does smell nice. Reminds me of college."


Snake took a drag from one of the herbal cigars that the villagers of Awyron had given him as a gift. Tobacco was completely off the table, he made a promise to quit cigarettes and he'd be damned if he broke it, but it's not like he didn't take all kinds of drugs when there was a combat use for them. And these things were incredibly effective. He was already feeling a tension he'd had in his body release, as if it was like dry parched earth being moistened by rain.


Without tobacco to grow and shipments coming in from off planet for two hundred years, the people had found and grown their own alternatives, the primary being a biologically engineered plant introduced by the SLDF nearly half a millennia ago. The Star League had long passed the stage of herbal medicine, but quite a few compounds were easier to extract rather than synthesize, and these were no exception. A highly modified form of Valeriana Officinalis, also known as Valerian Root, the herb was used in the production of SLDF combat drugs. Hal was right in comparing it to Pentazemin, since the Star League used to turn the plants into muscle relaxers and anti-anxiety medication. At least now he didn't have to carry around a bottle of pills if he wanted to steady his aim.


"I know the drill, Hal. I didn't unlearn nine years of lectures about smoking just because it hasn't been a problem in a while," Snake grumbled as he carefully took one last drag. He could already tell that these things were potent and best used out in the field. It only took a few puffs and he already felt like he was back on Diazepam.


"Oh yeah? Well you better be prepared for nine more, buddy! I'll say it for the next century if I have to, Snake, no smoking in the lab, period! No matter what it is!" Otacon gesticulated wildly with one hand as he turned to look at Snake, a teasing grin on his face. The two of them burst into laughter that echoed through the clean white halls of Outpost Castle Philanthropy. The facility had come a long way from the abandoned base the two of them had been abruptly dropped into. They were alone for now, a rarity given their current positions.


Snake stuffed the cigar into a tube and closed it off, the smoke dissipating into the air long before the two men reached the lab. As they approached the door, it opened on its own and allowed the two men entry, a soft chime playing as they stepped through the door.


"Welcome back, Doctor Emmerich. Hello, Snake," came the gentle, digitized voice of Hideo from the speaker system. The uploaded mind of Commodore Hideo Takayashi was thriving in an organization that treated him like a person, and had taken it upon himself to facilitate Philanthropy's operations. At this point he had integrated himself into the facility, including the security system and blast door controls. Maya, the menace, convinced him to help her play pranks. Considering the disembodied voice, holograms, and doors opening and closing on their own, even Snake had to admit that Hideo's ghost act was really good. It had actually gotten to the point where multiple people had thought the base was haunted before they learned about "Operative White Whale" and Snake had to put a stop to it. At least now the AI wasn't going too far with its practical jokes.


"Good afternoon, Hideo! Is the presentation ready?" Hal said cheerily as the two men walked through the lab towards a large holoprojector in the center of the room. Snake looked around as he did so, noting all of the modified equipment Hal was using. He saw a few neurohelmets that had clearly been taken apart and some wired directly into some consoles, while in one corner was a larger, dedicated VR Pod. Approaching the holographic display, a glowing blue image of the long dead Naval Officer blinked to life and gave the two men a firm nod, the ghost of a smile on the digital man's face.


"Indeed, I have received word from the engineers that they have completed the finishing touches on Project Succession. Maya was especially insistent on getting it painted 'correctly', as was the engineer you acquired from Solaris VII, Sally." The AI let out a dramatic sigh that he certainly made on purpose, as all his mannerisms were merely affectation from his previous life. "I never understood mechwarriors and their insistence on decorating their toys."


"The paint job is the most important part!" Hal burst out indignantly. "The distinctive paint job of a particular giant robot is a distinguishing and important character feature!"


"So you've told me," Hideo drawled, seemingly amused by the interplay. Snake couldn't tell if it was genuine, though, trying to cold read an AI was an exercise in futility. "Regardless, the project is complete. If you follow the lights on the floor to the engineering bay, we may begin the presentation."


Hal just rubbed his hands together and smiled from ear to ear as he began to drag Snake along the path. "So I actually finished the prototype a while back, conceptually, we just had no way to actually source the proper materials and parts. Now that we have access to the fabrication plants on the Stygian, however, a lot of our supply problems are solved. It might not be designed to produce battlemech parts, but engines for aerospace fighters can fit in a mech too, if you adjust them slightly."


Passing through another door, Hal led him through a hanger bay, one with a number of disassembled mechs in various states of completion, including the captured "Timber Wolf". The surviving SLDF technicians from the Stygian were working with the newly emancipated Goliath Scorpion technicians to understand and replicate the new, very different technology, but that would take time. At the end of the room, at another hangar door, the two men stopped as the bay door slowly began to open. Even before he could see beyond it, however, he could hear the footsteps of a loud machine.


Thud. Thud.


Thud.


"Standing at eleven meters tall and weighing in at a respectable fifty tons, this bad boy is rocking an endosteel frame, ferro fibrous armor, and a 250 XL Fusion engine." Hal began to monologue as the door finally opened, revealing a shining gold surface. Gold and purple paint covered the new machine, painted in a way that gave it almost a regal air to the machine. The head itself was one huge laser, and Snake could tell that the frame itself looked somewhat reptilian. It reminded him of a dinosaur, just made of metal and loaded down with lasers.


"Snake, we've been working on this project for months, and you finally get to see it! I present to you, the Princep!"

 

[orwellianorator]

Princep PRN-IIp
2978 IS Medium
Original: Battletech - Mech Factory
Source: My Own Custom /
Type/Model: Princep PRN-IIp
Tech: Mixed Tech / 2978
Config: Biped BattleMech
Rules: Level 4, Experimental design
Mass: 55 tons
Chassis: SL Special Endo Steel (C)
Power Plant: 275 Fusion
Walking Speed: 54.0 km/h
Running Speed: 86.4 km/h
Jump Jets: 4 Standard Jump Jet
Jump Capacity: 120 meters
Jump Jet Manufacturer: Standard Jump Jets
Armor Type: Light Ferro-Fibrous (IS) Heavy Ferro-Fibrous (IS)
Armament:
1 ER Medium Laser (C)
1 ER PPC (C)
1 ER Flamer
1 ER Medium Laser (C)
1 Small Pulse Laser (C)
1 Guardian ECM Suite (IS)
1 ER Medium Laser (C)
1 TAG (IS)
1 Beagle Active Probe (IS)
1 ER Medium Laser (C)
1 Small Pulse Laser (C)
Manufacturer: (Presumably mobile)
Location: (Unknown)
Communications System: (Unknown)
Targeting and Tracking System: Beagle Active Probe
==Overview:==
With the capture of Clan technology and the discovery of Lostech manufacturing facilities, Doctor Emmerich designed and built the IIp. Five tons heavier, and intended as a direct upgrade in most respects, the IIp utilizes both Clan and IS technology in an attempt to make a superior machine that was less expensive to produce than the initial prototype.
---------------------------------------------------------
Type/Model: Princep PRN-IIp
Mass: 55 tons
Equipment: Crits Mass
Int. Struct.: 91 pts Endo Steel 7 3.00
(Internal Loc.: 3 LT,1 RA,3 RT)
Engine: 275 Fusion 6 15.50
Walking MP: 5
Running MP: 8
Jumping MP: 4
Heat Sinks: 13 Double (C) [26] 4 3.00
(Heat Sink Loc.: 1 LL,1 RL)
Compact Gyro: (IS) 2 4.50
Small Cockpit, Life Supt., Sensors: 4 2.00
L: Sh+UA+LA+H R: Sh+UA+LA+H 8 0.00
Armor Factor: 158 Heavy Ferro-Fibrous (IS) 21 8.00
(Armor Crit Loc: 3 CT,7 LA,3 LT,5 RA,3 RT)
Internal Armor
Structure Value
Head: 3 9
Center Torso: 18 24
Center Torso (Rear): 9
L/R Side Torso: 13 17/17
L/R Side Torso (Rear): 4/4
L/R Arm: 9 15/15
L/R Leg: 13 22/22

Weapons and Equipment Loc Heat Ammo Crits Mass
---------------------------------------------------------
1 ER Medium Laser (C) CT 5 1 1.00
1 ER PPC (C) HD 15 2 6.00
1 ER Flamer LA 4 1 1.00
1 ER Medium Laser (C) LT 5 1 1.00
1 Small Pulse Laser (C) LT 2 1 1.00
1 Guardian ECM Suite (IS)LT 0 2 1.50
1 ER Medium Laser (C) RA 5 1 1.00
1 TAG (IS) RA 0 1 1.00
1 Beagle Active Probe (IS)RT 0 2 1.50
1 ER Medium Laser (C) RT 5 1 1.00
1 Small Pulse Laser (C) RT 2 1 1.00
4 Standard Jump Jets: - 0 4 2.00
(Jump Jet Loc: 2 LT,2 RT)
---------------------------------------------------------
TOTALS: 43 4 19.00
Crits and Tons Left:

Calculated Factors
Total Cost: 7,576,607 C-Bill
Battle Value (BV1):1852
Battle Value (BV2):2136

 

[TheOmnimercurial]

Damn, nice Mech! 😊

Little disappointed it was not a LAM though, would have been an interesting way to make ASF Fusion Engines have more utility on Mechs with less modding of the FE.

 

[orwellianorator]

AN: realized I accidentally skipped crossposting this chapter. Enjoy this months late.
___

"Reactor: Online. Weapons: Online. Sensors: Online. All systems nominal. Welcome, Private Sword."


Jensen Sword, the bloodnamed warrior formerly of Clan Goliath Scorpion and as of late, Clan Philanthropy, was quite aggrieved. He and his people were taken as bondsmen, defeated utterly by the paragon of ability that was the Legendary Soldier. After regaining consciousness, he fully expected each of his warriors to be assessed and assigned to their new duties as laborers for the victors, regardless of their wounds.


Except, that was not quite what happened.


Indeed, the similarities only stood to make the differences that much greater. All of them were fitted with something similar to a bondscord, not the woven, colored cords of the Clans, but a gray armband with white kanji. Jensen did not read Japanese, his fluency was with Star League English and some Russian, but he was no fool. He had been crushed handily, and had rightly been taken as the spoils of war. Defying his expectations, however, they were not sentenced to hard labor. His men were treated tenderly, their wounds healed (even Madsen, who thankfully was not permanently injured in the worst possible way for a man), and they were almost immediately tested for aptitude folded into present operations. His new clan were honorable, even if most of them were freebirths, and he would not sully himself by defying his newest orders.


Which came to the reason for his current aggrievement.


"I am a capable mechwarrior, saKhan Emmerich" Sword growled as he went through the system checks on the prototype battlemech the Spheroid Clan saKhan had built. It was Chalcas, and he had once refused to take orders from the spheroid scientist, and even made a challenge against it, assuming that this 'Hal Emmerich' would back down.


Emmerich didn't back down.


The scientist- no, the Mechwarrior, for that's what he proved himself as, humiliated him. In a Trial of grievance, both of them piloting a pair of pitiful Talons, Emmerich took the painfully obsolete light mech and made it dance. If Sword didn't recognize the skill it took to make a mech cartwheel with no arms and then return fire, then he didn't deserve to stay in a cockpit.


Either way, he was accepting of the freebirth's skill. Only the Legendary Soldier would surround himself in such exceptional individuals, and as long as Sword could prove himself worthy to stand with them, he could ignore the egregious violations as Spheroid peculiarity.


Despite his loss, and how it burned him for his saKhan to be a freebirth scientist, the fact that they let him back into a cockpit was more than enough to satisfy him.


The Princep was more than acceptable, for a machine without Clan technology, and his scores in the mech simulators were naturally the highest, beating out every other score- except for two others. As such, Sword was to assist the scientist in testing and assisting the development of new war machines. Unfortunately, the scientist had a habit of giving explicit, detailed instructions on tasks he knew how to do quite well, so there was friction, but in a prototype machine such as this he could hold back his vitriol from his superior.


"Sorry about that," came the genial voice over his radio. "I'm so used to explaining how to do everything, I forgot you're third in rank on the test sims."


SaKhan Emmerich was a contradiction, his polite nature and scientist upbringing clashing with his clear skill in piloting a 'mech. Sword didn't understand how someone so capable could be so passive, but he had already learned his lesson in challenging the man. For now.


"The biggest issue we have right now is that this is still a prototype. This is the first model of this design ever made, and all the simulations seemed okay, but it still needs live-fire testing before we can start sending it on missions. Proceed to the training course and we can get started."


Finally, Sword thought as he pushed the Princep forward, the lumbering beast of a mech plodding along the path at a sedate pace. Slowly, he pushed forward on the throttle, gaining speed as he accelerated the 50-ton medium to its top speed of 86 kilometers an hour. The testing ground that had been set up along the perimeter was about two minutes away from the mechbay, and he was running at full speed to try and push the machine. The heat was still looking good, his cooling suit protecting him from the ambient temperature that was slowly starting to rise inside the cockpit, and as he approached the testing site he began to cycle through his weapons. Four Small pulse lasers, three of the inferior spheroid medium lasers, a Snub-nose PPC, and an ER Large made up the machine's armament. In addition, it mounted an Active Probe and a Guardian ECM, both more primitive than the Clan variants, but all in all, the Princep seemed more than acceptable as a second-line mech, though it didn't hold a candle to the Timberwolf he had 'requisitioned' from the Clan's armory.


Sword wished he could see the look on Yeh's face when he realized that Sword took it with him.


Shaking the musings from his mind, he approached the testing site and powered up the Beagle Active Probe, searching for hidden enemies. SaKhan Emmerich said he would be doing live-fire exercises, and he would not die to some pitiful excuse for an ambush.


"I have arrived, saKhan," said the Clan warrior. The BAP alerted him to the presence of two shutdown mech around four hundred meters away, but he held off on engaging until he received orders.


"Good. We have sensors and cameras placed all around the area, and we will be watching to end the exercise if there's any danger. Be careful, Private Sword. People are our most precious resource, right now. We can always build more Mechs, but you and our other pilots are irreplaceable."


Sword nearly scoffed at that, but held his tongue. His new clan did not have the Iron wombs, did not have the ability to raise entire sibkos of warriors to fight and die, so he could understand the hesitation to spend lives, but he was a warrior. He was not afraid of death.


The shame of dying in a training exercise, well, that would be a different story.

 

[orwellianorator]

AN: and enjoy the new chapter too
---

"In my opinion as not a medical professional, I wouldn't let these guys return to active duty for at least another couple months, Snake."


Hal turned in his chair towards the super soldier, holding out a datapad. Snake took the device and began to scroll through the information, a writeup on Sword's capabilities. He frowned at what he read, brows furrowed, and looked back up at the scientist.


"It's been months, he's still going through withdrawals from that crap he was taking?"


"It's a highly potent, highly persistent ,psychoactive compound derived from freaking neurotoxic scorpion venom, Snake! And they've been on it for years!" The scientist ranted about his newest charge.


"Snake, I beat him in a duel! In mechs! His reflexes are shot without it and he's still experiencing hallucinations, I wouldn't be surprised if it takes him another three months to fully recover!" Hal started to shout as he stood up from his chair and threw his arms up in anger. Suddenly, however, he covered his face and took a deep breath in, before sinking back down into his chair. "You know how I've been talking to the engineers we rescued from their ship, and Sword when he's been working with me… Snake, it's horrible."


"Horrible?" He couldn't help but feel dread beginning to pool in his stomach. If Otacon was reacting like this…


"Trueborn warriors are born from the genetic material of two Bloodnamed warriors that have earned the right to reproduce. They're created artificially, in a device known as an 'Iron Womb'," Hal began, shakingly as he recalled the information. "From birth, they're raised communally in groups called créches, and prepared for their training as warriors. At the age of ten, the ones that don't wash out are moved to 'sibkos' where they're trained as child soldiers to duel each other, often to the death."


Snake's blood ran cold as he heard Hal spit the words out with derision.


"Child soldiers… and the Clans make them kill each other?!"


Snake felt deep sorrow and rage in his heart at the knowledge. That was the problem with child soldiers; eventually, they grow up, and seeing no problem with their upbringing, perpetuate the cycle of abuse.


"Oh, it gets worse." Hal grimaced before taking a deep pull from a thermos he kept on his desk. "The idea of family is anathema to them, so in addition to the eugenics and communal raising… they're basically fitted with birth control and encouraged to engage with each other sexually. They do this regardless of age or…" Hal's voice wavered for a moment as he struggled to find the words. "Genetic relations."


Snake nearly recoiled in revulsion at that bomb drop, reaching over to pay his friend on the shoulder. He was well aware of Hal's emotional hangups, and the more they heard of the Clans, the more it seemed like a personalized nightmare for the both of them.


"Hal, you don't have to keep going, I can get someone else to-" Snake was cut off as Hal jerked his arm away and stood up, slamming his hands on the desk.


"No, Snake! I have to do this!" He interrupted. "It's rape and sexual assault through and through, and they're normalized to it! Goddamnit, it's like Brave New World but murderous! The instructors assault their students, superiors assault their subordinates, for Christ's sake one of the new technicians asked when you were going to 'make use' of them for stress relief!"


Tears fell from Otacon's eyes as he collapsed in his chair once more and leaned forward, burying his head into his arms. Snake could tell he was thinking of his family, having flashbacks to his childhood. To the bad parts.


Snake knew PTSD. He saw it frequently, in his soldiers, in his comrades.


In himself.


Snake started to reach for Hal's hand, but quickly stopped himself. The last thing to do if someone was having an episode was to touch them, even if they're a loved one. Instead, he spoke up in a firm but gentle tone.


"Hal, it's your friend David. Listen to my voice. It's just the two of us here, in your office. You are safe, you are not alone, nobody can hurt you right now. Do you hear me?"


"...yes," came the quiet, subdued reply from the scientist, shuddering with silent sobs as he continued to bury his face into his arms.


"Good. Hal, you are safe. I want to reiterate that. I am here with you. You know who I am, right?"


"...Yeah."


"Can you look up at me?"


Gingerly, Hal tilted his head upward and looked at the soldier, eyes coming back into focus.


"Take a deep breath for me, Hal. With me, deep breaths in and out…" Snake motioned with his hands as he took a deep breath, gesturing for Hal to join him. It took a couple repetitions, but the scientist followed along, sitting up and imitating the soldier as they went through breathing exercises. After a couple of minutes, Hal's shaking began to cease, and it seemed like he was back in step with reality.


"You with me, Hal? Will you be fine if I hold your hand?"


"Yeah… I'm sorry Snake, I'm such a mess…" Hal sniffed and rubbed the tears from his face with his sleeve as Snake reached his hand across and gently took the other man's with his own.


"No, you're not, Otacon. You're my best friend, and you've been through a lot. It's not shameful to react that way, especially when something hits so close to home like this," Snake told the man as he gave his hand a light squeeze. The scientist wasn't the only one disturbed. Snake himself was shaken at the revelations of the Clans' society, in particular the breeding programs. Mass produced child super soldiers were a nightmare he's had, now made real with this information.


Snake felt Hal squeeze his hand back, and their eyes met again, blue on blue. Hal gave the soldier a fragile smile, one Snake returned with interest.


"Thanks, pal. I'm glad you're my friend."


"Right back at you, buddy."

 

[MaHaL]

This is why Snake and Otacon have one of the best bromances ever, absolutely excellent job writing it as well.

 

[orwellianorator]

This is why Snake and Otacon have one of the best bromances ever, absolutely excellent job writing it as well.

Click to shrink...

Thank you! I really try hard to capture that essence of why Snake and Hal are the best duo in video games