ASF sheet test

 

PNG test for TTS record sheets

 

test for TTS vehicle sheets

 

 

Building the Jacks #3

Building the Jacks

#3- Provisional Meeting

      Now that we had a skeleton of a campaign, it was time to put some skin on it and give it a name.  For myself, I find the name is one of the most important pieces.  Once I have a name, I have a direction.  A name gives me something to hang an idea on.  A unit name like Wolf’s Dragoons implies that someone or something named Wolf is important.  If you know the anything about the history of BattleTech you know what a red herring that name was and is.  So, yes, our unit needed a name.  From the name came other pieces that are important to how the unit will see itself, and more importantly to me, how it will come to be shaped in the fiction that brings it to life for me.

      

       Like everything else in these early stages, it started with an email.  This one I decided to do in character.

Neil Ikerd <NIkerd@copera.org>

To: Bruce, dave, steve, Brian, JV

Jun 5 at 6:50 PM

Okay, has everyone got their drinks?  Good.  It’s time for us to consider some important early decisions for our little unit.  I may be bank-rolling this little lash-up, but you guys are as important to its success as the money, probably even more so.  Items on the agenda:

Unit Name

Unit emblem

Unit colors and paint scheme

So, what are we going to call ourselves?  Someone has mentioned the Playboy Lance, I think we should go with something more in line with what I hope our missions will be- killing pirates and collecting bounties.  Maybe something like Pirate Hunter Interstellar, Frederick’s Privateers, or maybe Goryo’s Gravewalkers.  I thought about something like Reaping Rogers, but that’s just way too fraught with opportunity for misunderstandings.

Once we have a name, what do we want to do for unit emblem?  (OOC- preferably something easy to paint on small mini’s.)

What kind of paint scheme do we want to go with?  Something flashy and bold like the Davion Light Guards

                                       http://www.camospecs.com/Miniature/Details/1241/scarabus-scb-9a

something like a military field uniform similar to the 2^nd Crucis Lancers

                                             http://www.camospecs.com/Miniature/Details/5648/dervish-dv-6m

or DCMS Sword of Light divisions

                                                 http://www.camospecs.com/Miniature/Details/104/jenner-jr7-d

or maybe just a standard field camo.

Thank you for your support.

Frederick di Biasi

I will admit here that Pirate Hunter Interstellar was a blatant ripoff of Larry Corriea's Monster Hunter International series, of which I am a fan.  If you've never checked them out, you should.

I rather hoped that people would lean toward a parade ground type paint job for our standard colors.  Quite frankly, parade ground paint jobs are just more interesting and fun.  Something like the OD Green used for Star League Defense Force mechs is more practical, but just doesn't look as nice on the shelf as a riot of color.

It didn’t take long until others started chiming in as well: 

·        Dave

Jun 5 at 6:55 PM

there is a Navy air wing with Playboy bunny emblem vx4...

·        Bruce

Jun 6 at 12:29 AM

Combine the playboy theme and what we want to do ... "Vorpal Bunnies"

Bruce will get in on the in-character emails as well, which can be fun and gives me a good sense of what his character is like so that I can play off it in future write-ups.

Bruce

Jun 6 at 12:48 AM

A young man sits back in his chair, nursing his coffee.  He looks exhausted and you can see traces of ground armor on his jacket.  "Well, Boss, I really do not care what we call ourselves.  I just say we take no contracts against the First Prince."

"As to a paint scheme, how about the opposite of a Snake paint job.  Mostly black with red highlights, like the 1st Argyle Lancers?"

"Name...Andalusia Avengers?"

I knew I had looked at the 1^st Argyle Lancers before, but couldn’t remember what their paint scheme was.  Once I found it, I was immediately on board.

                                               http://www.camospecs.com/Miniature/Details/1997/orion---on1-k

JV

Jun 6 at 9:48 AM

One-eyed Jacks with the bunny insignia. So many jokes in one.

JV doesn’t email a lot, but when he does it’s usually pretty good.

·        Bruce

Jun 6 at 10:05 AM

Oooooh ... or a pair of Jacks with the top one being the bunny as the bunny.  And if we go with the black and red scheme it could work with that idea.

·   JV

Jun 6 at 11:21 AM

Go with the jack of spades for the bottom, replace the jack of hearts with the bunny for the top card (since those are the one-eyed jacks), spread on a black and white target with red border.  "Never bet against a one-eyed Jack"  either on the border or on a scroll beneath.  After I get my printer back up tonight, I can work up a rough if you want... 

"nunquam bet contra leporum"

He did prepare a rough sketch, one that I particularly like and has become the unit patch.  I’ve even managed to somewhat duplicate it on a small scale on painted figurines.

I went and did a bit of digging and found that the word we were looking for was sponsione, or wager.  This would make the slogan Nunquam Sponsione Contra Leporam, literally Never Wager Against the Charm.  If we wanted to be more literal we could go with Luscus Eques or One-Eyed Knight, but I personally like the double entendre of Leporam- Fred being such a charming guy and all.

·        Neil

Jun 11 at 3:18 PM

I’m starting to get attached to the idea of the name “1-Eyed Jacks,” particularly after JV’s write up had “my” email address as @1iJacks.andal.net.  I went and did some digging, there will be a merc unit named the One-Eyed Jacks, but they don’t come into existence until 3062.  So, there’s no reason we can’t take that name.

I also like the black paint scheme with white and red trim.  Something similar to the 1^st Argyle Lancers would be cool.

Maybe white trim with gold accents instead of red; though the red is more evocative of playing cards.

Within a couple of days, I had painted the first unit in the colors of the 1-I-Jacks; but for that you’ll need to wait for the next installment.

Next Installment: Painting the Jacks, part 1.

Building the Jacks #2

As I mentioned in the previous installment, thoughts of DCMS units in the 4^th Succession War got me thinking about Takashi Kurita’s “Death to Mercenaries” edict.  So what happens to some poor schmuck of a unit that has been working back and forth across the FS/DC border for years?  Would their loyalty be called into question?  Would they be betrayed? Would they survive?

  

The Regulators

By Neil Ikerd

13 May, 3028

Waldheim

New Samarkand Military District

Draconis Combine

“The fuck?”  Colonel John Tunstall, commanding officer of The Regulators muttered as he read the message scrolling across the screen of his ancient Banshee.  “Mercenary commands, look to your families, Snakes in the grass.  Jaimie Wolf,” he read it again, questioning what he read.

“Sir, it came from our contact at the HPG station,” Corporal Witson replied through the static.  The communications gear on the company’s ancient Lion class drop ship wasn’t original, and it was held together with 100-kph tape and bailing wire, but it still worked and it was theirs; even if half of her weapons systems didn’t work.  The Union class would be theirs in another 3 or 4 years, but loan terms dictated that ship be kept in “secure, low combat-risk areas” whenever possible; so it was parked on the southern continent at the base of the DCMS planetary militia right now. 

“There was also a video file,” Witson continued.  There was a short pause.  “Holy Shit! Sorry, sir.”  Witson’s voice was shocked and disbelieving.  “You have to see this, sir.  Squirting the video to you now.”  It took about 30 seconds and then the video resolved to show unmarked Battlemechs attacking a base facility.  Two ‘Mechs, a Panther and a Jenner peeled off from the main assault and started firing into a building that was probably civilian housing and office space.  A closer look at the building showed the Wolf’s Dragoons flag flapping in the wind above the door.   People began evacuating the building, but within seconds, the building collapsed.  The ‘Mechs started randomly targeting other “soft” targets as well.

“Sir,” Witson called, “the tagging says this video was shot on Capra early last month.  The Dragoons have a short regiment based there.”

“Yeah, they,” John was interrupted by an alarm. 

“Colonel, enemy in sight.”  Captain Barnett, his intelligence officer, notified him in her usual even, almost monotonous voice.  “Rick’s scouts have made contact with the enemy scouts, reporting one lance and radar signatures on another, heavier lance farther north.”  They knew the Fox’s Teeth were out there.  They’d known for a couple of days they were coming in.  As he looked at his maps, he wondered what was going on.  It didn’t make sense to send 2 lances in that direction, the terrain was crappy and there were too many dead-end canyons that way.  It was exactly the reason he’d put his scouts down there, it was a great place to watch from, but a poor avenue of attack.  He watched with a satisfied smile as ARROW IV rockets shot into the sky off towards the north. 

“Colonel,” Rick Patterson’s signal was clear, but the voice wasn’t.  “The cammo patterns don’t match Fox’s Teeth, or even 7^th Crucis Lancers.  Mitchell says their badges look like The Bloody Suns logo.”

As he was considering what that meant, Captain Barnett notified him that Arty, their reinforced lance of indirect fire vehicles was under attack by a lance of heavy ‘Mechs.  “Fuck,” he muttered to himself, as he glanced at his tactical map.  Arty was to his southwest, there was no way that was the same units that the scouts were in contact with.  It was nearly three kilometers from his location to where Arty was, but the command lance was closer than anyone else, and 10 LRM and ARROW IV tanks didn’t have much a chance against 4 heavies.

“Barnett, you and Stinson head over and help out.  Cover them for a retreat if you have to.”

“Willco, sir.” Barnett’s reply was immediate and calm, like she’d already been expecting it.  The two Grasshoppers lifted skyward on their jump jets and were on their way.  He was trying to decide if he and Jackson should follow, but something told him that they should sit tight.  He didn’t like the way this felt.  Maybe it was just that message, but something felt wrong here.  His musings where interrupted when his comm screamed to life again.

“We’re blown!  Fuck! Fire team, target and fire and at will!  Arty, Arty, fire on out positions, drop it right on us. We’re fucked, we’re fucked, we’re fucked!”  The down side of an ambush was that if the ambushee knew about it, they could turn the tables very quickly.

Almost before he’d fully processed what was happening, his and Jackson’s ‘Mechs were moving up to the crest of the ridge that overlooked the ambush site where fire lance had laid the trap for the incoming force.  As he cleared the ridge, his worst nightmare was laid out in gory full color below him.  A full company of medium and heavy ‘Mechs was blowing through the ambush site and laying waste to his fire lance.  Even worse, the enemy wasn’t even in the basket where the mines were laid in.  According to DCMS intelligence, there was only supposed to be one company in-bound, but he could account for at least 2 within a 10 kilometer radius; and there was no reports coming in from the southern continent.

He fired his PPC and Imperator Autocannon at a green Enforcer that was jumping the very area where mines were exploding.  He didn’t even smile as its jump jets suddenly cut out and it fell out of the sky like a lead balloon. When it hit, there was a cacophonous explosion as it set off three of the mines.  It probably wouldn’t save fire lance, but it was something.

“Colonel Tunstall,” Witson’s voice was deadly calm.  “Sir, radar shows 2 lances of ‘Mechs approaching from the south.  IFF identifies them as Waldheim Regulars, 1^st and 2^nd lance.”

Suddenly it all made sense.  The bad intel, the units in perfect positions, DCMS militia approaching his base camp, and the message from the Dragoons.  They were well and truly fucked.  “Witson, get me Captain Tunstall.”  To his left, Jackson’s Jagermech was pouring fire into the back of the Davion mob, but it was like pissing on a forest fire.  His own cockpit was getting uncomfortably warm as another lance of cerulean lightning reached out and broke the arm of an enemy ‘Mech.

“John, this is Yokiko.  What’s going on?”

“Evacuate.  Get everyone on Wild Horses and get out of here.  Don’t worry about gear, equipment, nothing.  Get our people out.”  He heard the claxon over his communicator.  “If we need support after this cluster fuck is over with, I’ll let you know.  Take all the intel and communication feeds.  Everyone needs to know what they did to us.”

“Is it that bad?” his wife’s voice was concerned, but not scared.  John had always prided himself on the quality of his people.

“Worse; and whatever you do, don’t let John Jr. convince you to let him come rescue me.  I’ve seen the reports on those four scrap-heap ‘Mechs he’s working on, and they’re not combat ready.  If all else fails, he can avenge me.” 

“Evacuate the families, wait for your call.” She was a professional soldier before they married and she became his training and logistics officer.  He could almost see the rigid look on her face as she accepted her orders.

“Don’t wait too long.”

“John, I…”

“I know, sweetie.  Me, too.”  He stroked the trigger on his autocannon and then started running down the hill toward glory or death; maybe both.

***

I will admit, I love a good origin story.  Writing character backgrounds is one of my favorite things to do.  I figured this would give us everything we needed to get started as a small merc unit: an explanation to have a drop ship, 4 ‘Mechs to start the game with, a close-knit group of pilots and support staff, and a long term goal. 

In an email response to The Regulators, Bruce had asked about starting ‘Mechs based on what I thought we might have- the assumption being that many of them would be DCMS ‘Mechs that we had gotten while working for them, or maybe some salvage:

So Jonnie?  What are the four 'Mechs?

I have a nice painted Jenner and would love to see an "Ugly Duckling" in the mix.  A Panther is a bitch due to the heat curve, but can hit like a freight train.  I also have a brown painted Firestarter.  If we can use the optional rules for the Heat build-up it could be a nice 'Mech to work against 'Mech and it is killer against Infantry.  Although I think the Wolfhounds are a few years in the future.  Maybe a Valkyrie?  They were common in the FedSuns.

Steve later adopted 75% of this line up as our starting units.  Our starting units ended up looking like this:

WTH-1 Whitworth

JR7-D Jenner

FS9-H Firestarter

VLK-QA Valkyrie

Changing the ‘Mechs wasn’t the only thing Steve had in mind though, he had plans for something that would be easier to drop in anywhere without having to have quite as much background on BattleTech lore.

-----Original Message-----
From: STEVE
To: Bruce
Cc: Neil; JV; Brian;
Sent: Fri, May 25, 2018 11:30 am
Subject: Re: BattleTech Campaign?

You guys are way ahead of me on this.  

But given that I don't know the background, setting, rules, game, or time-of-day as well as you guys, I plan to start a totally independent campaign.  I'm zeroing in on the Fourth Succession War, after the "new" old tech has been discovered, but while it is still rare and mostly only being developed by the major houses.  If you last long enough, the Clans might show up. 

Not set in stone yet, but here is the idea I'm currently working on...  

At least one of you is a reasonably wealthy man.  Your parents died young, leaving you with plenty of money to live comfortably - even opulently - if you don't go overboard and do something crazy like try to form a mercenary mechwarrior outfit.  The only condition was that you serve a term in the military prior to receiving your inheritance.  You have done this and have spent the last few years living the high life.  However, one morning as you are gazing out the window and reflecting on the feeling that the high life isn't all it is cracked up to be and something needs to be done about the state of the galaxy, you get a phone call.  The call is from a lawyer representing your uncle's estate.  Uncle?  You have an uncle?  Well, had.  Hm...

The uncle was your father's much-older brother.  They did not agree on many things.  In fact, they hadn't spoken for many years.  You had never heard of him, much less met him.  But apparently he knew about you. 

You do a little research, and learn that in his youth, your uncle was an actual mechwarrior.  He recently died of ghonosyphilherpleaids - a common malady among aging mechwarriors - and has left everything to you (or to all of you if two or more of you choose to be related).  

The lawyer has you sign a bunch of papers, giving you control of the estate, and then takes you on a tour.  Nice house, a beach cottage, a nice chunk of change in the bank, and a well-diversified investment portfolio.  Last on the tour is an out-of-the way holding with a large, run-down, hangar building and an airstrip.  A wave of dust blows through the curtain of spider webs as you heave open the hangar door with a loud, rusty screech, and gaze into the long-abandoned hangar with wondering eyes...  

From behind you, you hear, "What a piece of junk!"  

***

For those that have read “Tales of the 1-I-Jacks” #3 and #4, you should recognize that line.  Bruce lifted it right out of the email, and so I lifted it right out of his story so I could show the overlap.  With having an explanation from Steve of exactly what he had in mind, we set to work.

I started thinking about character ideas since The Regulators weren’t going to work out.  A rich character, something of a playboy, just enough military background be dangerous, tired of the high-life and looking to do something different.  For some reason, the wrestler Ted “The Million Dollar Man” Dibiasi popped into my head.  Suddenly, I was off to the races.  I whipped up a background write-up for Frederick Theodore di Biasi and shot it off to the group.

I realized after I sent it off that someone else might be building a character to be the lead.  It turned out they weren’t, Bruce was toying with a disgraced young officer and JV just wasn’t saying much.  During this time I also contacted my friend Dave that I had joined us for a couple of BattleTech games previously.  He was interested, but Dave is a busy guy and doesn’t have much time to engage in the level of role-play and background some of us were devoting to it.  For a while, Dave’s pilot nick-name was “Not Here” because, well, if you don’t get the joke, go look up “Dave’s Not Here” by Cheech and Chong.

Before I knew it Fred had acquired the nickname “Playboy” and his ‘Mech, which we joked about making an UrbanMech, was being referred to as “Shotglass.”  Bruce’s character, Jonathon “Wolfman” Wilkerson, took on piloting the Jenner and Bruce drew up a background that included a Jenner as a family heirloom named “Goryo.”  A Goryo is a Japanese spirit of vengeance, in some cases quite powerful.  As a joke, I said that I was going to leave a piece of artwork in cockpit of his ‘Mech.

Bruce is also a bit of Magic player and said he loved it, so it stuck as his ‘Mech’s nickname.  A few days later, JV sent an email with a character background written as a letter of introduction, and included having experience in piloting a Firestarter.  Since Dave wasn’t that deeply involved in the conversation at that point, I decided I would pilot the Whitworth.  I happen to like missile boats, and I think the Whit is actually a pretty good design, albeit slow for a medium mech.  I also really don’t like Valkyries.

With the unit composition decided on, now we just needed to work on the important things: unit name, logo, and paint scheme.

Next Installment:  Working meeting.

Tales of the 1-I-Jacks #5

Tales of the 1-I-Jacks

Prologue Chapter 5

No Relation… Really

By JV and Neil Ikerd

Shipcom RDS Farsight

Syscom Andalusia

To: Captain Biasi, Fbcom@1IJacks.Andal.net

From: Henry John Kell, doc@fb.Bellatrix.net

28 July, 3039

Captain Biasi,

I'm pretty sure you don't remember me, but I definitely remember you. Let me take you back a couple of years.

You remember that comm station your unit took out on Frazer IV, back in '24? If you'll recall, there were a couple squads of Chimera apcs and a light lance of firestarters and fleas guarding the place. Let's be honest, it WAS an intelligence relay, and totally legit as a target, no matter what the civilian comms claimed afterwards. Anyway, you might remember that annoying firestarter that kept popping up just long enough to keep you running hot, then fading into the trees (and the ecm nets we had all through the woods)? You recall how you finally juked at just the right moment and fused that annoying little bastard's leg actuators? Well, I remember that moment really well, because instead of crisping me on the spot, you headed back to your dropship.

I never did know what inspired that moment of mercy, but I sure didn't forget it. When I heard through the grapevine that you were forming a unit, I said to myself, "Doc, that's the kind of guy you want to work for."

I know that before you trust a former enemy, you're going to need to know more about me. I've done my research, so I know you're a straight shooter I can trust. Let me give you a brief rundown of what brings me to your door, hat in hand, and maybe you'll agree to meet for dinner and see if we can work together.

I was born and raised on Milos, my parents were both pretty high in the local government. We had a good life going.  Parties every week, vacations, powerful friends... Until, as you may recall, the Fed Suns decided to try to "annex" us. Turns out, you ain't much after your home city is nuked, most of your family dead, and the local government frantically "restructuring" to support the rebuilding after an incident like that. I was away visiting my Uncle Hank. He had a fairly big chunk of land, with pretty good mineral resources on a planet I won't name just now, to avoid any, shall we say, recent legal indiscretions, coming back to haunt me.

Anyway, after my parents and sister died, Hank pushed me to join up. He said, "son, you'll make a fine pilot, make sure you get the testing in writing before you sign anything!" I spent a full tour in, though the last year was kind of a shit show. They tried to drum me out for cowardice under fire after our little encounter! Now you and I know that isn't true, I just didn't shoot you in the back after you didn't incinerate me in the face... I figured that was fair. :)

I spent a lot of time on desk duty the last year of my tour, but hey, turns out purchase officers learn some handy stuff, make some useful contacts. My uncle Hank died that year, a few months before I mustered out. Left me the whole place. I figured, hell, I can sell it and make some money to get me started.  Yeah. The minerals turned out to be "not economically viable for extraction." So the land was not worthless, but not a gold mine, as it were. I put it on the back burner. A month after I got out, which is a month I don't remember real well, but apparently I gamble well when I'm drunk, since I had a little more coming out than I did going into that particular casino planet bender!

But I got a letter from uncle Hank. Not a comm, an actual letter. It just said, "Son, don't sell the place, not until you've looked it over. It's a real beautiful location." Now I've been there, and it's a nice spread, but nothing that special, and WAY out of the way.  But, what the hell, I had some cash and nothing going on, so I went.

When I got there, the house was just like I remembered, nothing changed, and he'd been keeping it up. I found another letter in the entry. Did I mention my uncle was a little eccentric and loved to play games? This was starting to feel like one of his treasure hunt games. Even dead, he's still playing! This letter said he'd left me something in the fridge. Only thing in there was some condiments and a bottle of cheap bubbly. With a note on the bottom, which I only noticed as I was tossing it in the recycler.  Several notes later, I was in his workshop with a car remote in my hand, and a note saying,  "what would you do in an emergency?" So, I hit the alarm button and heard a click under his workbench. Pulled out the panel that had popped loose, and thought, "what the hell is my uncle doing with a Fed Comm ecm control panel? And why does it look like it's active?

My uncle was hiding a damn crashed Leopard with a medium lance on board! Now, it was shot to hell and came down real hard, so much of it was junk. But... I'd been pushing paper on this kind of stuff for months, and I had a pretty good idea what it was worth. Except it was illegal salvage. But I knew a guy. He took it all, probably resold it to my old unit, and only gave me a little over 3 million of the 10-plus he likely got for it.

I thought about setting myself up on some nice beach... But then I thought, why not get seriously rich first? I'd just heard about this little operation you've started here, and I thought maybe 3 mil would get me a stake. What do you say? I'm coming down tomorrow, can we meet for dinner?

Henry John Kell (no relation... Seriously)

****

“Gorilla,” Fred called out as he entered the bay where LilyRose stood in her gantry, her chest open and exposing her half-rebuilt LRM launchers for all the world to see.  Those parts were supposed to arrive in the next could of days.  “Is that box of battlevids still in the cockpit?”

Robert Monsoon looked up from the wiring harness he had torn apart in time to see one of his astechs fastening a replacement armor plate on the Whitworth’s leg.  “Remember, Bret, tighten on opposite corners when you torque that down, otherwise you may compromise the plate.”  The young man replied his confirmation and Robert watched him to make sure he did it before he replied to his boss.  

“No, boss, sorry, Captain.”  The unit may just be a couple of mercenaries looking for glory, but the arrival of Leftennant Wilkerson had started to inject something like military structure into the group.  He was a sergeant now, not just some mechanic working on agro-mechs.  “Am I supposed to salute you now?” he asked as his boss walked up.

“Not with your hands full of wiring and relay circuits, you’re not.”  The Captain looked around and nodded with approval.  “I need to see if I can find that battleROM footage.  Some guy thinks I’m my uncle, and wants to work for me.  Says I was honorable on the battlefield, the kind of warrior he can respect.  I thought I might see if I can find the footage for the battle he’s talking about.”

“I moved the crate of vid-sticks and battleROMs to the gear locker.”  Robert looked at his boss.  The guy just looked out of place in a ‘Mech bay.  Who the hell wears patent leather shoes, wool slacks, and a silk shirt into a bay where techs are working with arc-welders and grease guns?  As long as he continued to get paid though, he wasn’t going to say anything.  Working on Battlemechs was a hell of a lot more interesting than working on agro-mechs and construction-bots.  If he was honest with himself, Robert also missed certain aspects of military life.  Any story that starts, ‘We were hot dropping on this border world,’ is probably going to be a hell of a lot more interesting than ‘We were out clearing woods for a new field.’

****

Fred pulled out the vid-stick labeled 3024- Fraser IV and plugged it into the monitor.  There were about 60 files available, but only 7 labeled ‘Active Ops.’  He started pulling those up and quickly scanned through them at 10x speed.  On the third one he caught sight of the distinctively weird lines of a FS-9H Firestarter.  He slowed it down and watched it through three times before he made a decision.  “Mrs. Winters, can you locate Wilkerson and have him come in.  I’d like his opinion on something.  I think we may have found another pilot.”

He opened up his mini-comp and pulled up the email from one Henry John Kell.  A quick search of FSNex, a Federated Suns-centric database system that was used for back-ground checks by commercial employers revealed that indeed a Henry John Kell, born on Milos, had served with the CCAF, was not a wanted criminal, and was currently a civilian (employer not recorded).  The data was at least 6 months old, but it was as good as he was likely to get this far from the capital.  A couple of calls to some salvagers he knew turned up a line on a couple of light Mech’s, including a Firestarter that needed some work.

After viewing the video of the battle on Frazer IV and discussing it with Jonathan, Fred opened his mini-comp and replied to Mr. Kell. 

---------

Syscom Andalusia

Shipcom RDS Farsight

To: Henry John Kells, doc@fb.Bellatrix.net

From: Captain di Biasi, Fbcom@1IJacks.Andal.net

28 July, 3039

Mr. Kell,

Thank you for reaching out to me.  I will admit that I had to go back and look at the battlevids from Frazer to remember that event you were talking about.  That day was a little hectic, and as you well know, after a while one battlefield starts to look much like another.  In reviewing the full footage from that day, I was impressed by your tenacity and your command of the tactics used by such a specialized 'Mech.  I would be happy to meet with you once you make planetfall.  Please comm my Executive Assistant, Mrs. Winters, at +03-145225 x5, upon your arrival.

Sincerely,

Frederick di Biasi