Lummatii
Lothian League
Marian Hegemony
The Periphery
26 December, 3149
Freyja grabbed the bar to her right just in time to brace herself as the Phoenix Hawk landed hard on the snow packed ground. "You have to let the mech flex at the knees more when you land. You still haven't got that smoothed over yet."
"Sorry," Peter said sheepishly next to her, handling the controls of the BattleMech. "Jumping just doesn't feel....natural. I don't know."
She chuckled as she glanced over the control readouts. "You're riding forty-five tons of machinery, there is no natural. You just get used to it. Or at least you do if you pilot a mech with jump jets. And like it or not kid, you're inheriting a jumping mech from your old man, so you have to get the knack of it. In a combat situation, you have to be smoother than than on a regular basis."
He grunted and pushed the mech to full throttle, bounding through the snow that had recently fallen. "I won the simulator tournament at the Solstice festival, didn't I?"
She punched him in the shoulder in response. "Congratulations, master Peter, you managed to outfight a bunch of backwoods periphery wannabes in a simulator contest. That's exactly enough to get you cocky enough to get killed the first time the rounds are flying for real."
"Hey, I get it, I get it," he spat in response. He handled the forty-five ton Phoenix Hawk well enough on the ground, and had even gotten fairly good at aiming, albeit at non-moving and non-shooting targets. But she had no illusions that she was even close to having trained him for combat, and nowhere near as ready as he thought he was. She was about to have him run another jumping drill when a klaxon started blaring and a warning light flashed. "Hey, what's that? Sensors got a couple of mechs out at max range, what are they doing here?"
Her mind raced. This could not be good. "I don't know, slow down, for one, you're heading right at them. They look to be on the main trail back to our place. Quick, kill your active fire control systems!"
"What?"
She punched him in the shoulder again. "Just do it. We've got an active FCS sensors on this thing, but you're father has the weapons locked down. Even if we had to fight them, we can't. Without our active sensors pinging away they might not pick us up and we might be able to watch them and see what they're up to."
He complied and killed the active fire control systems, and slowed the mech to keep a distance as they watched the contacts on the radar display. She had just about convinced herself that it had worked, when a voice came over a general frequency.
"Whoever is tip-toeing around in that mech out there on the edge of our sensors, you best quit it. We aren't here for trouble, but if you keep poking around, I'm liable to get impatient and decide to slag you. Understand?"
Peter looked at her for some kind of guidance, and she nodded. "Understood."
The line was silent for a moment, then chirped back to life. "We're heading out to the Bakker estate to meet with the owner of these lands. If you're from these parts, ride in with us."
Again, she nodded to Peter, and he brought the Phoenix Hawk in closer to the other mechs, eventually falling into formation with them as they headed toward the Bakker estate. The mechs were a Grasshopper and a Hunchback that looked to be some kind of laser carrying Swayback variant. Even if the P-hawk's weapons were live, it was doubtful they could fight off whoever these two were, so for now the only alternative was to go along. The mechs didn't sport any kind of insignia or colors that would provide a clue to their identity. That would have to wait for later.
A short time later, they were back at the Bakker estate, and Freyja and Peter had disembarked the Phoenix Hawk and thrown on parkas over their mechwarrior togs to join Ned and Clarissa Bakker as they stood waiting for the two unknown mechwarriors to dismount.
The Hunchback pilot was a woman, in her mid forties, Freyja guessed, with blazing red hair and an almost strut to the way she walked. She didn't look old, but rather she had a look about her that said she was tired, in spite of the striking hair and walk. As the Grasshopper pilot descended the mech and climbed to the ground, Freyja wondered just how he had fit himself in the cockpit. The man wasn't the size of a clan elemental, but he wasn't far from it, and his massively muscled frame had Freyja doubting just who would come out on top if this guy were to fight an elemental.
The pair walked up to Ned, and much to Freyja's surprise, it was the gargantuan man that spoke up. "Edward Bakker?"
Ned Bakker stepped forward and shook the man's hand. "I'm Ned Bakker. I'm afraid we weren't expecting guests. To what do we owe the pleasure?"
The man let out a hearty laugh. "Not much pleasure in having a couple of BattleMechs knock on your front door, but I appreciate the sentiment. Though I don't appreciate having someone ping me with active sensors and follow me around."
"My apologies. That Phoenix Hawk was piloted by my son Peter, he's being trained as a mechwarrior by my servant there," Ned explained.
The man chuckled. "Hmm, you keep a slave girl to teach your boy mech piloting. Isn't that quaint."
Ned kept his annoyance in check. "We make due as best we can out here on the frontier. I'm afraid I don't know you, are you one of Bart Carter's men?"
The large man stared at Ned, who, to his credit, did not flinch. Freyja's pulse quickened at the mentioning of the name of the man who had captured her and sold her into this backwater existence. "Old Bart Carter is dead. He and I had a little run in, and I came out on top. He came out dead. I took over his operations, and I'm kind of making a little housewarming tour to meet and greet his customers. Name is Raiden Trogg. It's getting late in the day, I trust my companion and I can avail ourselves of your hospitality for the night?"
Resigned, with two pirate BattleMechs at his door, Ned nodded. "Of course, Mr. Trogg. We have plenty of guest space, and you and your friend can join my family for dinner." Freyja only hoped things wouldn't go as badly as she anticipated they would.
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