CWiE: Clan Wolf in Equestria

by DrAngryslacks

Chapter 1: Hunting

Cadet Flynn walked through the door leading to a set of steps to his BattleMech. It was time for his next lesson, hunting another 'Mech.

As far as any of his superiors were concerned, Flynn was one of three members of the Scarlet Howl sibko raised on Circe to have made it this far in training. He was mildly notable for his above average test scores and knowledge of a BattleMech. However, he also neared being reprimanded on at least three separate occasions due to his accused arrogant attitude. Other than the aforementioned traits, Flynn was considered to be nothing special.

This is it, he thought, climbing the stairs, each step making a metallic thud. I get to actually fight another BattleMech. I get to prove myself that, unlike what the instructor is wont to claim, I am not some surat. He reached the top of the stairs and looked to his left.

A massive humanoid machine rested at the other end of a platform, its arms were raised above its torso like a Y, with the forearms bent and pointing forward. The machine was an unremarkable tan aside from the logo of Clan Wolf painted near the left 'armpit'.

I feel so grateful that I was born into Clan Wolf, the proudest, mightiest and noblest of all the Clans. The Cadet slowed down slightly so that he could look at the symbol longer - a howling red wolf in front of a matching red bar, with six stars forming a horizontal row. I wish, no, I promise that I will rise high into the ranks of my Clan. My actions will earn me my Bloodname. And when the Treaty of Tukayyid expires I will strike the Inner Sphere with the wrath of the Wolf. Then, when I stand upon the sacred grounds of Terra, I wil-

“Today, wetnose!”

Flynn snapped back to reality, his daydreaming had caused him to stop just a few meters from entering his designated Firemoth. He quickly entered the 'Mech and prepared to start up the machine. “Only scientists are allowed to daydream, Cadet. And you have nowhere near the intelligence necessary to be one with that wet sponge inside your thick skull.” His instructor said through the speakers in the neurohelmet to Flynn's side.

“Aff, sir.” Flynn nervously said, putting on his neurohelmet. His instructor did not hear him however, the minimal communications suite inside his Firemoth could only receive signals standard. Diagnostics were complete, all systems were nominal, all he needed to do now was activate the reactor.

After doing just that, a series of heads up displays blinked into Flynn's vision. Namely his radar, compass, the status of his 'Mech represented in blue two-dimensional wireframe and, to his slight pleasure, the weapons: Two Medium Lasers, one in each arm and a machine gun array in the center torso, right under the cockpit. It was not an impressive arsenal - a standard Firemoth had an SRM-4 and an SRM-6 in place of the machine gun - but it was an upgrade from the two Small Lasers he had before.

The most important thing that Flynn could see was the Timber Wolf standing perpendicular to his 'Mech. It was one of the most fearsome OmniMechs ever invented, and it was being piloted by one of the most fearsome people Flynn knew: his instructor.

“Okay, Cadet, follow me to Nav Alpha.” The Timber Wolf proceeded to run off full speed to the northwest, toward a cluster of mock buildings a couple kilometers away. Flynn did as he told and throttled his Firemoth to half-speed. If he wanted to, he could run circles around the slower but much heavier 'Mech. However, his orders were explicit, follow, not orbit. According to his instructor, as long as he did as he said, he would not get upset. His instructor also said that he does bad things when he is upset, and considering the standard armament of a Timber Wolf, he had all the credibility he needed.

“Today you are to engage your first BattleMech.” The confirmation was enough to return Flynn to attention. A small grin formed on his recently shaven face. “Before you get too excited, do not think that the Clan would waste a state-of-the-art machine on a worthless Cadet like you. Out there at Nav Beta is a drone 'Mech, it is not fast, and it has outdated weapons. Nonetheless it is dangerous to fleshy-headed mutants like yourself. Kill it, and meet me at Nav Gamma.”

Flynn had his orders, and ran off to where his computer designated Nav Beta. His instructor slowed to a halt moments ago to observe him from a distance.

“Autopilot: Engaged.” Flynn let his Nav computer take over while he thought about what type of 'Mech he would be fighting. They were always supposed to be between twenty and thirty tons, meaning he could be fighting anything from another Firemoth, to a formidable Kit Fox, or something in between like a Mist Lynx. Whatever it was, Flynn was ready to take it down.

Even as he neared his destination he felt antsy, he was on the edge of his seat, constantly adjusting himself to get comfortable. Just a few more moments and a check for hostiles later, he would need to sober up and be serious. He had to make sure this anxiousness did not follow him when he would cut his teeth against the green chickens. Sure, he would need to win his Trial of Position first, but beating a washed-up MechWarrior pilot should not be much harder than the drone awaiting him.

“Autopilot: Disabled. Remote Piloting: Engaged.”

“What?!” Flynn shouted out loud, looking around his cockpit for anything that could have triggered this new setting.

Whoever was now controlling his Firemoth was making it veer off course, he was now headed west toward another collection of mock buildings used for inspection training - his next lesson after hunting.

Despite his efforts he was unable to retake total control of his 'Mech. He could still twist the torso and move the arms, but the legs of his 'Mech were being possessed by some outside force.

“Scrub, why are you heading towards the inspection training grounds? That is not Nav Beta, correct your course.” Flynn's instructor sternly ordered with the slightest hint of confusion.

Wait, if he is not controlling his 'Mech, who was? It could not be headquarters - they would have told his instructor beforehand otherwise. And judging from how genuine his agitation was, that was not the case. There was only one assumption left to make:

Sabotage.

Though this may have answered his previous question, it only presented two more. Who would do this, and why? Flynn tried to remember any instance where he might have ticked off a technician. The only act he could think of was when he talked down to a technician four months ago, except that tech was stationed at another base, and was likely still there.

What about the Jade Falcons? The thought left his mind almost as soon as it entered. It would be uncharacteristic and outright dishonorable for a rival Clan to do such a dirty trick - especially the Falcons. Not to mention that surely a potential saboteur would target something more valuable than a training 'Mech...

“Cadet Flynn of the Wolf Clan, you are disobeying a direct order from a superior officer. Shut down your 'Mech and await your Trial of Grievance. If you refuse, Star Commander Morton is authorized to utilize lethal force. You have ten seconds to comply.” This was a different, unfamiliar voice, probably some communications operator from the HQ speaking on behalf of the commanding officer.

Not. Good.

Those two words were the only thing on Flynn's mind, he was unable to shut down his 'Mech - not from lack of trying - nor was he able to eject. Whoever was behind this was thorough in both regards. The Cadet was now squirming in his chair trying to take off his harnesses in some last-ditch attempt at preserving his life. The young, aspiring pilot simply could not allow his promising career to be cut short, not this way at least.

Time was not on his side, as klaxons wailed throughout the cockpit - he was locked on, and would receive a bombardment of as many as forty LRMs to his backside. Two salvos of LRM-20s was more than enough to shred a 'Mech twice the weight of a Firemoth to pieces.

The Firemoth reached the fake buildings. “No...” He whispered to himself, “Not like this!” he jerked the torso of his 'Mech as far to the right as it could. If he was to meet death here, he at least wanted to face it. At that same time, the right leg was in the middle of flexing forward when it froze in place. The sudden shift in weight caused the machine to lean over and fall behind a fake building. In what can be considered a stroke of immense good fortune, the missiles were still far away enough to maneuver into a collision course with the structure. An even greater moment of luck was that Flynn endured the fall without any injuries, some bruises here and there, but nothing serious. Though he still hit his head hard enough to be knocked out despite his neurohelmet absorbing most of the shock.

---

Star Commander Morton simply sat there in disbelief. Right after being given the order to fire upon the rogue Cadet, and after said Cadet ducked behind the building, the single most baffling, outright jaw-dropping moment in his life occurred.

He had to give the Cadet some credit - taking cover behind the building like that was a clever, if dishonorable tactic. It was when the missiles struck the structure that things got weird.

By weird, he meant that an enormous surge of energy was detected by his computer coming from the structure, the building itself was expectedly scarred, but largely intact. Blue electricity, similar to that discharged by a PPC surged and cackled in the air. The feeling in his gut scolded him that he just hit something he really, really should not have.

“Command, what was in there?” He regained some focus and spoke into his communicator.

“I do not know, Star Commander. Whatever it is, it is giving off a lot of energy, on a scale only found on Kearny-Fuchida drives.” Another communications operator replied, no less baffled than the MechWarrior.

“No, it's exceeding the scale!” Morton could hear another operator shout in the background, he almost ignored the contraction considering the dire situation. Almost.

“You are saying that thing could blow up and take out the base at any second?!” Morton barked into the microphone connected to his neurohelmet.

“Neg! That anomaly has enough power to destroy the continent!

“The energy is starting to contain itself somehow!” The other operator exclaimed. “It's concentrating into the area immediately around itself.” Strike two for contractions.

“Do something!” Morton was on the verge of panicking, this was not a good way to die for his Clan in the least.

“It's going to blow, brace for shockwave!” Morton shut his eyes as hard as he could before the sentence could be completed. It was that quick reflex that may have saved him from being rendered blind by the brightest flash of light he would ever see. The reinforced glass windows of the Timber Wolf's cockpit cracked and shattered from the kinetic force, the 'Mech as a whole staggered from the blast.

Morton released the breath he held, and realized he was still alive. He hesitantly opened his eyes and scanned the controls. The windows were completely gone, or rather scattered everywhere, including his face. The most surprising thing of all was that not only did his 'Mech sustain practically superficial damage, the same applied to the base. Most of the windows were disintegrated, and the flagpole waving the proud banner of Clan Wolf was torn off, but otherwise the base was largely unscathed and it was likely most of the inhabitants were okay as well. The biggest change was that what was once the target inspection site was a massive crater. Even then quick torrents of electricity still danced about its perimeter.

There was one thing that got to Morton, however. Though he did not, nor was expected to know much about K-F drives, were they not supposed to give off a lot of radiation? That obviously was not the case here, because he was still alive and did not feel ill whatsoever. A little shaken perhaps, but nothing he could not recover quickly from.

In any regard, this was one of those situations that he did not care about how or why something happened the way it did, just that it did. It was the Scientist Caste's job to figure these things out anyways.

“Star Commander, are you still alive. Quineg?” One of the operators, specifically the one who made those sacrilegious contractions.

“Aff, freebirth.” Morton replied with thinly veiled scorn.

“Excellent, dock at Mechbay three and await further orders. Quiaff?”

“Aff.” Without further instruction, Morton throttled his Timber Wolf back to base.

---

Flynn groaned as he regained consciousness, reflexively shutting his eyes as soon as he opened them. Whatever happened, there was now a bright light shining on him. He slowly opened his eyes again, this time they adjusted better.

He was still in his Firemoth, but the Cadet quickly realized something was wrong. A wave of uneasiness washed over himself. His muscles felt weak, his head was still throbbing and his stomach was dancing around in his gut and he struggled to fight back to urge to vomit. As he looked out the cockpit window; a wasteland awaited him, a rocky, reddish desert all the way to the horizon.

He tried to think back to what happened, but his headache seemed to worsen whenever he tried to remember anything beyond his orders to stand down. He did manage to piece together the fact that his 'Mech was falling to the ground. Everything else was too blurry to recollect.

Yet, from the angle he was looking at the ground, he could tell that his Firemoth was standing upright. Flynn's anxiety mixed with the added confusion, and exasperated the already queasy MechWarrior's condition.

As Flynn struggled against nausea, he reminded himself that needed to adapt to the situation at hand. Somehow, he and his 'Mech have been moved somewhere else, but why? He was not far from where he started regarding his situation. His 'Mech gets hacked by an unknown party, then he gets relocated while he was out cold? It just did not add up.

Flynn began to swallow his saliva hastily, an impulse that signified he was going to throw up at any moment. He was not about to let that happen, the last thing he needed now was to get his breakfast all over the control panel.

Although his head still hurt and he was quite shaken up by everything, he reached for the restraints in his chair. Whatever muscle weakness that remained in him was willed away as the MechWarrior removed his safety harness. Once the belt was off he slouched back in his chair slightly to put his stomach at an angle. He did not know if it would help - if anything he may have been making the problem worse - but it was the best he could think up on short notice.

For a few moments Flynn rested in his chair, the nausea grew fainter and fainter until he decided it was at an acceptable level. He sat back up and took another look at his surroundings outside. He looked to his left, red sands, a few oddly placed mesas, and typical desert wildlife. He then looked to his right, with similar results. The only things that Flynn immediately found peculiar was that the sun seemed to be a bit low in the sky, as if it was literally the size of a small moon and was hanging in low orbit. He put it down as a hallucination, he was still disoriented from what had happened and whether Circe had a personal star nearby or not was the least of his concerns.

Then there was the desert flora, mainly the cactuses (or was it cacti?) scattered around his field of view. They were nothing Flynn had recognized on Circe, they looked too... vulnerable, too docile for the harsh conditions the planet bore.

This observation only made a new addition to the Cadet's list of unanswered questions. Just where was he?

Author's Note:

I hope I am able to portray Clansmen decently here. Outside of what Sarna.net and the holoprojectors in MW2 tell me, my knowledge of BattleTech is limited. I fear I am making him too stereotypical, or worse, "Spherical". If there are any questions, concerns and/or suggestions regarding Flynn's charaterization or other aspects of the story, please leave them in a comment so I can make the appropriate changes.

Comments

[Slaughterstone]

You should check out battletech wiki's pages on the clans. I don't see any errors so far in how you have portrayed him. I'm interested in seeing how a fire moth will hold up in equestrian. He is lucky he has an energy heavy load out.

[PinkMantis]

I am loving this. Great work!

[Bronzer]

Why didn't he call out on his comms that remote pilot had engaged? Did he try and I missed that part?