Here is the story I've been working on. Thanks for the input from the guys in the Fan fiction Discussion Topic.
Before making its foray into outer space, the governing bodies of earth decided to conjoin into a unified governmental body called the Union. But the Union's forces were unable to combat countries that resisted assimilation. They turned to several PMC, and out of the candidates, the Red Lightning Corporation was chosen. The military firm did such a good job that the Union delegates decided to sign a lengthy contract with the company, named the Lance and Shield Act. As humanity reached into the stars, Red Lightning had a tremendous affect on colonization efforts, over 70% of the ventures funded by the corporation. It used this money to research new developments in technology, one being mechanized walkers. The amount of new colonies began to blossom, and the Union renamed itself the Universal Conglomerate, with Red Lightning acting as its military arm.
Red Lightning's 5th legion is tasked to remove a despot who has taken over the largest landmass of the planet Gemin. New weapons, combat walkers called mechs, are used to reclaim the planet. The events on Gemin would lead to the dawning of a new age, an age where metal giants would become an integral part of Red Lightning's military machine.
(Please comment on it and tell me what you think, things that need changing, etc.)
Lieutenant Gregory Briggs shielded his eyes as the RLS Endeavor emerged from lightspeed. After two days of nothing but emergency lighting, the rays from Gemin’s sun blinded him. Holding a hand in front of the glaring ball of gas in the distance, he turned toward the ship’s Captain.
“Damn that’s bright.” He said.
The officer chuckled and averted his own eyes from the bridge’s viewports.
“One and a half times brighter than Sol,” the Captain replied. “It’s supposed to give Gemin some fantastic weather.”
Briggs shook his head. “Unfortunately, we’re not here on vacation.” As the Endeavor grew closer to the green rock, that became evidently clear. A fleet of ships floated around the planet, an armada of transports, destroyers, and capital ships. Rivers of smaller craft flowed from the vessels down onto the surface below, forces for Red Lightning’s peacekeeping operations on Gemin. The military corporation was the sword and shield of the Universal Conglomerate, the ruling body of Earth and its colonies. The news had said that a despot had gained power of the planet’s largest landmass, and as a member of Red Lightning’s 5th Legion, it was Briggs’ job to restore order. The Lieutenant smiled grimly.
“The term despot is thrown around too often these days.” He said out loud. While there were the occasional power-hungry rulers in the colonies, most “despots” were leaders of independence movements or legitimate leaders who grew too powerful. Anyone who threatened Red Lightning’s was classified as an enemy of the free world.
“Well it seems like this guy’s the real deal,” the Captain said, reading Greg’s thoughts. “He’s used military force to carve himself a nice little spot on Gemin’s main continent, and he’s named the planet the starting point of his empire.” The officer pressed a series of keys on a keyboard at his station, projecting a video on the main screen. A large man in a tailored military uniform stood in front of a screaming crowd of soldiers. His bushy mustache bounced comically as he spoke, pumping his fist into the air to accent his words. This prodding only made the crowd louder, but before the applause died down, the officer terminated the video.
Briggs shook his head and turned to leave, thanking the Captain. He left the bridge and made his way to the cruiser’s hangar. The lieutenant entered the bay, instinctively grabbing a handrail as he felt the absence of gravity. He pushed off against the door and glided down the catwalk, watching the activity below.
Assembled below was a battalion of experimental combat walkers, the first of its kind to be development from the ground up for a combat role. The metal giants, dubbed mechs by their engineers, stood around twenty feet tall, and occupied most of the space in the hangar. A small army of technicians swarmed around them like ants, checking systems and services parts for their deployment onto Gemin.
Off to one side of the chaos a group of men sat at a series of tables, drinking beer and talking amongst themselves. Their matte-black pilot’s suits stood out against the red and white uniforms of the technicians around them. Briggs launched himself towards the men and yelled a greeting.
The pilots returned his hello and resumed their banter. One man with short, auburn hair waved to him, and tossed a can of beer to him, Peter Donovan, his second in command. “It’s morning? I’ve lost track of day and night on this ship.” The man said. Gregory caught the beer and somersaulted, landing next to the man.
“Check your watch Pete, that’s what it’s for,” The lieutenant said, piercing the beer’s cover with a straw and taking a draught. “Besides, we won’t be on this tub much longer.” Donovan chuckled and crumpled his empty can.
“Thank God for that.” He said, tossing the can upwards. It flew upwards, pirouetting slowly through the air.
“I would implore you not to litter aboard this vessel Mr. Donovan, it’s so unsanitary.”
The pilot’s conversation’s died abruptly as they all looked upwards. A man drifted towards them, Donovan’s crumpled can in his hand. Everything about the man was sharp, from his finely tailored pinstripe suit to the almost-obsessive care taken to remove every stray hair from his face. Anyone could tell that the man was no soldier. Director Lumberg was from Red Lightning’s corporate branch, tasked with directing funding for new armament projects. He had single-handedly lobbied for the Mech Program’s entire research funds, without which the metal giants before him would only exist in blueprints. Lumberg might have been important to the project’s continuation, but he was still an ZOINKS.
Lumberg landed on the deck with the grace of a three-legged giraffe. He quickly dusted himself off and placed the can in Pete’s hands.
“If you please, Mr. Donovan, would you kindly see this refuse to the receptacle?” It was more of an order than a question. Pete’s hand shook, crushing the can even more.
“My title is Sergeant Donovan, Director Lumberg.” He said coldly.
“Of course, Mr. Donovan. Now, throw away the can please.” Pete ground his teeth together and stomped off to find a trash chute. Lumberg turned towards Briggs.
“The Captain informs me we are nearing our destination.” The director said.
“Yes sir, we should be ready to drop in about two hours.” Briggs said. “If I may, Director Lumberg, I’d like to suggest we increase the heat shielding for the Dominus’.”
Director Lumberg shook his head. “That will delay the launch by an indefinite amount of time. I want those units in the field as soon as possible. We have to show the Board what they’re capable of.”
“Don’t worry about it Mr. Briggs,” Lumberg waved a hand through the air. “The units will be fine, launch as soon as we’re in position.” The director then turned and left, awkwardly launching himself up to the catwalk above, yelling orders to passing technicians. The engineers just rolled their eyes and went about their work.
Gregory sighed and took another long sip of his beer. He wasn’t sure what angered him more about the Director, his ignorance towards the machines he was funding or the fact he had forgot the ranks of the men obediently serving under him. He let his anger subside and let go of his can, letting it float into the distance. If the Director wanted them planetside in two hours, he had some work to do.
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