Defense Line Fafnir
26km North of Needgate, Planet Pandora
Sudeten Trial Region, Lyran Hierarchy
26 April 3108
A pair of sleek Lucifer III fighters, their undercarriages laden with bombs, streaked over the trench lines towards the latest Dominion probe. Screened from the fury of the battle by a ridgeline, the Lyran soldiers manning the defenses could only see the flashes of reflected laser strobes and the occasional fireball of an explosion.
“Alarm! Kampfkoloss gesichtet!” called out a panicked voice further down the line. Swinging towards the sound of the exclamation, Hauptmann Pieter Adesida raised his field binoculars to his eyes. Sure enough, the lanky silhouette of a Bruin class BattleMech emerged from the west tree line at a loping run. Heading straight for Adesida’s defense line, the ten-meter robotic war machine had more than enough firepower to incinerate the entire battalion.
“Kolossabwehrkanonen, vorbereitung zum Eingriff!” Adesida announced into his radio. With an efficiency of movement that provoked a thin smile from their commander, the battalion’s two 13cm autocannons began to track the incoming ‘Mech.
Raising his hand, Adesida deliberately began to intone, “Feuer auf mein Zei-“only to be interrupted by a new voice in his headset.
“ Fafnir Befehl, halten Feuer. Verstärkungen wird kurz kommen. Anfang Fallversuchsreihe in drei… zwei…”
Bursting through the cloud cover on a fiery pillar, the DropShip’s spherical metal hull seemed certain to crash into the earth. As the vessel rapidly decelerated to a hover a few dozen meters over the earth, any question as to its identity was erased. Instead of the maroon, black, and gray Trikolore of the Hierarchy it bore the fierce Cerberus standard of the Wolf Clan.
Clearly intended as much for the enemy as for the troops of the Fafnir Line, English words broadcast on an open radio frequency,
“This is Star Commander Lukas of the House of Kerensky. Dominion interloper, do you have the courage to face me in single combat as our ancestors commanded?”
A murmur of excitement ran down the line as the Lyran troopers watched a lone Blood Reaper descended from the DropShip, its jump jets slowing it to a gentle landing – at least, as gentle as can be expected for a seventy ton armored ‘Mech.
The Dominion MechWarrior spoke with a thick accent, but his words left little question of his intent, “Yuoo speek ooff cuoorege-a, Vulff, boot it is nut I vhu heed in hees sheep unteel zee feenel mufe-a. Try tu stup me-a, und leern vhy ell Cluns feer zee Clun ooff zee Ghust Beer!”
Then, the time for words over, the Bruin’s gauss cannon thundered and the battle was joined.