InaG Chpt 6

==It's not a Gundam - Chapter 6 - First Blood==
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===Mission Briefing===
Coalition Assembly Point, Aboard the Ptolemaios
Unnamed System, Periphery (Rimward, Anti-Spinward)
February 3025
"I will not offer myself up."
 
I wasn't going to be demanding control of the Coalition. If that was what the Junkers wanted they were mistaken. Biggs and Wedge glanced at me but I shook my head. I was firm with my choice.
 
Around the circle were Militia, Mercenaries, and heavily armed Spacer nomads and merchants sick of the Marians. Among them were plenty of battle-hardened men and women with combat experience that exceeded mine. The knowledge and memories implanted in my head didn't count. I knew that me wearing the mask does not do me any favors. The fact that this meeting was held in my ship, by now the Junker flagship, didn't help me not look suspicious.
 
I could only advise and hope that whoever they choose to lead us won't get us all killed. I waved off Mashmyre's protest as I continued.
 
"I've been entrusted command over the Junkers, but not you all. I can only give advice and nothing more."
 
"And what sort of advise would that be?" One of them asked, suspicious.
 
"Six Legions." I restarted, "Six Regiments. Thankfully only two are fully Battlemech equipped and they are stretched thin. The rest are mostly conventional with only the leaders and their bodyguard equipped with Battlemechs."
 
The Marians weren't a regional power. Yet. But they were getting there. We were going to end it here and now. I would make sure of it.
 
"Legio I is the most well equipped and fanatically loyal to their 'Emperor'. We destroy them then the Romans will fracture. That can be done by crippling their spacelift capacity, isolating their worlds and combat units. If we target mainly the first legion then any more raids would be against disorganized Marians."
Half were skeptical of me, the other half nodded along.
 
Others added their own comments. Most were less ambitious. Some just wanted to smash and grab what they could, some wanted to 'make an example' as we did.
 
Eventually command was given to one of the Mercenary commanders. One of the few that I dreaded to reveal myself to. General Stan Gluck, of the Knights of St. Cameron.
 
Wearing what would best be described as tactical knight plate armor Gluck stepped forward, drawing his sword from his scabbard as he pointed upon a trio of worlds ... And kill a few birds with one stone.
 
"In the name of Cameron and the Lord of Almighty we will take our pound of flesh from these GODLESS Marians!"
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===Depot Raid===
Marian Hegemony Controlled Space
Sulla was a major depot for the Marians. If the one the Lord Exarch found him in was a staging ground then this was a place where the pirates kept and stored their loot.
 
Mashmyre grimaced, including people.
 
For the coming fight he had no Mobile Suits to call his own. Both the Tieren and the Aries were being configured for ground operations and that left him with either a Ball, that he wouldn't be caught dead in, an ASF, a machine he was unfamiliar with, or what many would have called an ASF if they weren't from home: A Mobile Armor.
 
Two were wedged in storage. One for the Exarch. The other for him. Both were the main 'prizes' for destroying the last base with the the Shrike units being secondary. As far as he knew they were INCOM-equipped Space Fighters using solid fuel. And according to him performed well enough to fight a Mobile Suit on even terms.
That was before the masked man commissioned modifications.
 
By the time for the jump rather than hook themselves to a bridge seat they were strapped into their respective Mobile Armors. The moment they arrived they would launching.
 
The Neurohelmet on his head was bulkier than he normally was and the cockpit was definitely built like a fighter pilot's and clearly redone with a dashboard clearly inspired by Aerospace Fighter layouts.
 
The only difference being the little socket that sat a Haro upon it.
 
<("Greetings.")> It spoke.
 
Mashmyre blinked, the Haros in his world were more toys than anything, "...Hello."
 
<("This unit is designated PU-6K. Preparing to destroy Roman Imposters. What is the pilot's name?")>
 
"Well met ... Puck." He smiled, "My name is Mashmyre Cello and I am happy to meet you."
 
<("This unit agrees.")>
 
The cargo hold was decompressed. Anything that wasn't bolted no was. There was no room to put the Moebius Zeros but here, hanging on clamps, Across from him Exarch boarded his twin mobile armor.
 
"Lord Exarch." he started.
 
"Just Exarch." the masked man answered, "I'm no lord and don't want to be."
 
"Even so." Mashmyre insisted, "Why didn't you push to become the leader. You are the most qualified here!"
 
"I'm not someone they could trust easily." he fixed his mask for emphasis, "And there are more men out there with more experience than I can claim for. Anyone who has to shout they are king doesn't deserve to be king."
 
Said the King with no crown. Cello thought.
 
The Junkers made the largest majority of the force assaulting Sulla. The second largest being a team of Mercenary units happy to fight slavers while getting paid to do so. The Exarch led the Junkers and by necessity the rest would follow. Music for scene.
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===Committing to the Pledge===
Sulla System, Marian Hegemony (Control Space)
(("This is Exarch to the Junkers and all our allies.")) He said over fleet wide channels, (("We are about to start a war against a nation that has enslaved our fellow human beings, who have murdered our loved ones, who have burned and stolen our livelihoods."))
 
The moment we jump Sulla's garrison will be reacting. They have forces stationed to watch all jump points and more patrols watching for any Pirate points. Prepare to move as soon as we arrive in-system. The fast we clear them the faster the ground team can get to the surface.
 
There is no epilogue here, unless you make it;
 
...If you want freedom ... go and take it."
 
Klaxons blared and lights flashed. The jump was imminent and all across the various jumpships of the strike team they were now at a point of no-return.
 
<<"Jumping in 3... 2.. 1....">>
 
Reality twisted, his senses screamed. Maybe it was normal, or maybe the former Cyber New Type was facing side effects to one of the greatest mistakes in his life.
 
In the end it didn't matter. The fleet jumped in Sulla System in force and the Marians collectively froze at the armada now suddenly sharing space with them.
 
<<"LAUNCH! LAUNCH! LAUNCH!">>
 
The cargo doors swung open with the force of industrial magnets and hydraulics. And so Mashmyre launched, hurled out into the void and his first battle since his first death.
 
He joined Exarch, and a motley squadron of ASFs, up-gunned shuttles, Balls, and whatever Dropships they could spare from the ground assault hastily forming up into some level of formation to meet the scrambling romans.
 
The lines crashed. The distance between the coalition and Marian craft was simply too short.
 
ASFs, Small Craft, and Dropships danced a deadly dance. Explosions roared silent but bright in the depths of space. In it all Exarch commanded as best he could with the few forces he had available. Mashmyre swerved in and around enemy fire, just barely colliding with the more immense bulk of a Marian dropship.
 
<("Pilot Cello.")> Puck spoke, <{"Gunbarrels are ready.")>
 
He hesitated. He barely shot his main weapon. He did not use the Mobile Armor's most powerful feature either. Dublin. Haman. The Procedure. They were still fresh in his mind even as he was tortured by the Marians for being too pretty for his own good.
 
<("Pilot Cello.")> Puck spoke, "Withdraw if you cannot fight."
 
There is no epilogue here, unless you make it ...If you want freedom ... go and take it.
 
"...so I will..." he whispered.
 
He closed his eyes as the Neurohelmet read his thoughts, his WILL. For an emotionless machine Puck's internal fans seemed to hum with approval.
 
<("Targets locked.")> The Haro reported, <("Deploying Gunbarrels.")>
 
The Moebius Zero was armed with four wire-guided combination booster/gun pods. They were too complicated to use, needing a pilot capable of multi-tasking and with enhanced spatial awareness. But with a Neuralhelmet reading thoughts? An AI capable of interpreting and making adjustments? And more importantly myomer-strands capable of pulling the strings like an expert puppeteer?
 
One man could face a whole squadron.
 
The gunbarrels detached, boosting and turning as their lasers came online targeting half a dozen Marian strike craft at once. Some unaware about their inevitable demise, others frozen with shock.
 
Then chaos. Beautiful chaos reigned as a squadron's worth of ASFs were skewered by half a dozen lasers.
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Chapter 6