0.2 - Sabre Company
4WheelSword
The original N-body Problem
- Pronouns
- It/She/They
[X] A man
[X] A scrappy independent mercenary lance
A small part of your brain, the little bit marked 'officer', tells you that you should pull that soldier up, back them against the nearest wall and tear them a new one for shouting orders at their superior officer.
The larger, much smarter part of your brain tells you to ignore any feelings of breached decorum and just start running. If the enemy is out in force, this might be an opportunity to put them down properly and for good. An early end to the contract could be just the sort of windfall that Sabre Company needed after such a long string of bad luck.
Founded in the early 31st century, Sabre Company was marketed as a self-contained, self-deploying overstrength formation capable of bolstering the forces of anyone who could pay. Fortunately - or perhaps, unfortunately - between 3004 and 3040 there were plenty of paying customers. By the mid 3040's the company had gone from twenty active duty battlemechs to four on a good day, from a half dozen serviceable dropships to one hulk of a Manatee that could barely fly and from over a hundred personnel to barely more than ten. Too many clients meant too many enemies. Too many enemies meant too many battles and not enough time to maintain the unit. Sabre Company is barely a shell of what it once was.
You've dragged it on. After three years you were the second-highest ranking pilot, so when the previous commander quit you just sort of inherited the job. She'd taken a nasty head wound mid way through an op and decided to get out while the going was, well, bad. What were you gonna do, let the company collapse?
Since then it's just been one shitty contract after another, pulling in just enough cash to keep the machinery ticking over and the other members of the team from leaving. A few raids, a security job and now this wet, miserable little planet and a pirate force that had managed to hide out in caves for far longer than anyone had expected. Your employer was on the verge of retracting payment and support if you couldn't deal with this problem.
Well, now you have the opportunity to deal with the problem and, as you reach the ready line, you realise there's never been a better moment. Standing in the shadow of the spheroid Manatee, the four operational 'mechs that were all that remained of Sabre Company were being prepared for combat. Rounds were being loaded, missiles slid into magazines, fusion engines primed and lasers focused. The lance would be ready in as little as five minutes. When that time came, all they would need would be pilots.
What do you pilot?
[ ] Commando COM-3A, leading a scout lance
[ ] Wolfhound WLF-1a, leading a cavalry lance
[ ] Blackjack BJ-1, leading a fire support lance
Would you like to feature as a character? Drop a name below for a chance to feature as a mechwarrior, support staffer or ship crew!
[X] A scrappy independent mercenary lance
A small part of your brain, the little bit marked 'officer', tells you that you should pull that soldier up, back them against the nearest wall and tear them a new one for shouting orders at their superior officer.
The larger, much smarter part of your brain tells you to ignore any feelings of breached decorum and just start running. If the enemy is out in force, this might be an opportunity to put them down properly and for good. An early end to the contract could be just the sort of windfall that Sabre Company needed after such a long string of bad luck.
Founded in the early 31st century, Sabre Company was marketed as a self-contained, self-deploying overstrength formation capable of bolstering the forces of anyone who could pay. Fortunately - or perhaps, unfortunately - between 3004 and 3040 there were plenty of paying customers. By the mid 3040's the company had gone from twenty active duty battlemechs to four on a good day, from a half dozen serviceable dropships to one hulk of a Manatee that could barely fly and from over a hundred personnel to barely more than ten. Too many clients meant too many enemies. Too many enemies meant too many battles and not enough time to maintain the unit. Sabre Company is barely a shell of what it once was.
You've dragged it on. After three years you were the second-highest ranking pilot, so when the previous commander quit you just sort of inherited the job. She'd taken a nasty head wound mid way through an op and decided to get out while the going was, well, bad. What were you gonna do, let the company collapse?
Since then it's just been one shitty contract after another, pulling in just enough cash to keep the machinery ticking over and the other members of the team from leaving. A few raids, a security job and now this wet, miserable little planet and a pirate force that had managed to hide out in caves for far longer than anyone had expected. Your employer was on the verge of retracting payment and support if you couldn't deal with this problem.
Well, now you have the opportunity to deal with the problem and, as you reach the ready line, you realise there's never been a better moment. Standing in the shadow of the spheroid Manatee, the four operational 'mechs that were all that remained of Sabre Company were being prepared for combat. Rounds were being loaded, missiles slid into magazines, fusion engines primed and lasers focused. The lance would be ready in as little as five minutes. When that time came, all they would need would be pilots.
What do you pilot?
[ ] Commando COM-3A, leading a scout lance
[ ] Wolfhound WLF-1a, leading a cavalry lance
[ ] Blackjack BJ-1, leading a fire support lance
Would you like to feature as a character? Drop a name below for a chance to feature as a mechwarrior, support staffer or ship crew!
Ouch.