Fan Fiction
"By Any Other Name..." by Rose_Seraphin
She flipped on the radio and listened to the static. Any minute, she'd be coming out of the com shadow she'd been in for the past week. Any minute now, she'd be talking to her clan - her family. She didn't want to think about her time away, or the reason for it. She just wanted to get home and surround herself with her clan mates. Thinking about the friends she had in the clan, she couldn't help but smile. They'd brought her into the fold and accepted her as a part of the family even before her ToE, and they'd given her a new name when she passed. Eowyn, Lady of the Rohirrim. She had to think about it to even remember the name she had answered to before that day, and she rarely thought about it.
The second the static cleared up, she sent a quick message across the line indicating she was back in com range. Within moments, she received her first reply.
"Eowyn, good to see you back!" came the familiar voice of her Khan.
"I'm not quite back yet Cele. A couple days out still, but I couldn't wait. I've missed everyone so much!" She replied.
"Well, I've been waiting for you to get back for this, and now that you are, I'll announce it to the clan." he said.
"What's that Cele?" she asked nervously, thinking about a conversation she had with SaKhan Blue before she left. Blue had said he was going to talk to Cele about inviting her to join the Keshek, and she still wasn't sure how she felt about that.
"I'm disbanning CoR."
Eowyn sat in stunned silence as the words rang through the shuttle, echoing a bit in the metal space. "WHAT!?!?" she cried when her shocked mind absorbed his words.
"I'm disbanning the clan Eowyn. I built it from nothing, and no one's going to lead it but me."
"Wait a min-" she started to say, the unmistakable sound of him ending communication cutting her off. "Cele! CELE!!" she screamed into the mike. Moments passed in silence, then static crackled over the speakers again. "Blast it," she thought "forgot about the next com shadow." Sighing, she checked the autopilot's course, and left the cockpit for her bunk. There was nothing she could do but wait until she was out of the shadow tomorrow.
Stretching out on the thin mattress, Eowyn let her memories drift back. ToE's for new friends, training with veterans to help improve her skill, helping train new friends to help them improve their skill, the joys of victory, the sting of defeat. And the battles - the heart-in-your-throat battles.
Win or loose, the battles were her favorite part of being a mechwarrior. Skill against skill. Mech against Mech. Sometimes, one side or the other had some sort of advantage, whether it was numbers or equipment, but sometimes the battle's outcome rested solely with the skill of the pilots. And those battles were the most exhilarating, the outcome never certain. Thinking about some of those battles, Eowyn drifted to sleep and dreamt of the thrill of the fight.
Back in com range the next day, Eowyn waited anxiously for news. Maybe Cele had been pulling her leg yesterday. Maybe he changed his mind. Maybe the other officers had decided to vote for a new Khan. Maybe...
"Lady Eowyn! Are you OK? Did you hear?" came the voice of her training partner, Jackal.
"Cele told me he was disbanning CoR. Please tell me that's not true!!" she replied, heart in her throat.
"It's true Lady Eowyn. Almost everyone knows now."
Clenching her fists in frustration, Eowyn closed her eyes. "Now what?" she asked her friend.
"I think we could hold the clan together and maybe bring back some of the people that have already left if someone stepped up to be Khan." he replied.
"Who? Blue's responsibilities have kept him apart from everyone for so long, most of the new pilots have never even met him, and Cap is just nuts." She started going through the list of officers, some of whom were the secret ruling council of the clan, though even she didn't know who.
"You." was his simple response.
"Me? You've got to be kidding!"
"I'm not joking Lady. Just about everyone in the clan respects you. I'm certain that if you took up the mantle, nearly everyone would follow you. I'll be your SaKhan if you want."
"Why don't you take up the mantle? You’re a better leader than I am."
"I ... gotta ... you ... Eowyn." Static garbled the message.
"Jackal? Jackal?" Growling in frustration, Eowyn turned down the speakers. She shouldn't be in another com shadow. Standing up, she kicked the base of her chair. Running fingers through her hair, she started pacing the small space. She could see Frea through the windows, but coming back to the home world of the clan suddenly seemed empty. Watching a drop ship making it's departure from the planet's surface, she decided she couldn't face the clan halls right now.
What she needed right now was a friend to talk to that wasn't part of the clan. Someone that would let her talk herself horse as she tried to figure out what she was going to do next. Going back to her bunk, she opened the chest under the mattress. Shoving aside the clothes in there, she pulled out a journal and took it back to the pilot’s chair. Of her friends, Gothic and his GIMPoid unit was the closest to Frea, so she punched the coordinates for there and reset the auto pilot. A couple more days should get her there, and supplies should last.
"I heard. It's all over the news. I've taken a few of your old clan mates under the GIMPoid flag already. Why don't you join them? You can be Buffy again." Gothic said as he lit a cigarette. "You know that you’re always welcome with us."
They were sitting in a cafe in the town the GIMPoids called home base. Most of their pilots were from clans that officially didn't get along, but had become friends in spite of that. Gothic didn't require them to renounce their clans to be in his unit. They just ran with the mercenary unit when it suited them.
"I know Goth. I just really didn't expect this. I thought everything was going great in the clan. We were getting involved with the leagues, and we just recruited a bunch of great new pilots. Some of them hadn't been with the clan for a week yet." Sighing, Eowyn stared at her drink, watching the bubbles rise up from the depths of the soda.
She should have known Gothic would just want her to join his group permanently. She'd run with them a few times when the group first started up. When clanned pilots ran with them, they used different names so they wouldn’t catch flack from clan mates. Gothic had begged Eowyn to use the name Buffy, and she had. But Cele had found out, and told her to decide. CoR or the GIMPoids. Not exactly fair, as she only ran with them when there was nothing going on with CoR, but she chose her clan. She had sworn loyalty to CoR, and she would remain loyal.
"Look, we've got a battle later tonight. Be Buffy again for the night, and then take your time to think about it." He grinned at her across the table. He knew she loved the thrill of battle, and after such a long time away she wouldn't be able to resist.
"Alright. For tonight. You have a Madcat I can borrow? Mine’s on Frea." She could already feel the blood pounding through her veins. Maybe she'll be able to think clearly after a good fight.
Adrenaline still pumping from the heated battle, Eowyn stowed her GIMPoid uniform and slid back into her CoR uniform. Her ship had been resupplied and refueled while she was fighting, so the only thing left was to say her farewells to the other pilots. She knew what she had to do. At least she thought she did.
Her approach to Frea was a lot quieter this time. She didn't want to deal with things over the com. She wanted to talk to people face to face. Only then would she be able to determine whether or not Jackal’s comments had merit. Only then would she be able to decide if she thought she could handle the immense responsibilities of being a Khan.
She approached from the south, and parked her shuttle behind the hanger. Slinging her duffel over her shoulder, Eowyn strode through the hanger. Barely noticing the empty echo of her footsteps, she concentrated on the far side, her mind already halfway to the main castle.
The cloud cover broke and bathed the valley in bright sunlight just as she stepped out of the hanger. Shielding her eyes from the bright light, Eowyn looked towards the castle. But the castle wasn't there.
Dropping her duffle, Eowyn ran to the edge of the crater where the Halls of Fire had once stood. Not a single pillar remained standing, the marble floors mostly powder at the bottom of the crater. Sliding down into the hole, Eowyn looked around at the remains of her home.
Hours later, when she climbed out of the crater, she saw a shadowed figure standing by the hanger. Dusting off her uniform as she went, she walked towards the figure, wondering if it was someone from the clan.
"Hey Girlie. How ya holdin up?" a familiar voice said as the figure took a step towards her.
"Hey Wicked. I'm holding." She took her duffle from his extended hand, and looked at the grizzled face she was used to seeing across a field of battle. He was a Seraphin, a member of the most feared pirate unit in the known universe, and he was her friend.
"Heard bout it, and thought I'd come see if it was true.” He gestured towards the crater. “Guess it was."
"Yah. I didn't really believe it till I got here. Now I just don't know what to do." She started walking back through the hanger, keenly noticing the echo of her footsteps this time.
Following her, Wicked said "Well, the offer we made ya before still stands if you want it." He shrugged. "If not, you know you've always got wings if ya need em."
"Thanks Wicked. You don’t know how much that means to me. I’ll let you know when I decide something." She grinned to herself thinking about the offer he was referring to.
It was a couple of weeks before her trip, and she was sharing a drink with the men she'd fought with that day. Wicked, Ice, and Voodoo Seraphin had been as rowdy as ever, and Eowyn had laughed at their antics. She often fought alongside the pirates, and against them. That day, they had fought together and the battle had ended in their favor. Since it had been their fight, they got the spoils of victory. She’d borrowed on of their Madcats, so she didn’t even have to worry about repairs.
Talk, of course, had centered on the battle. Everyone had fought well, so most of it was bragging about this shot, or that maneuver, with very little exaggeration. They didn’t need it - they were Seraphins.
Between the high of the fight, and the alcohol they’d been drinking, Eowyn could no longer remember who had brought it up. But all three of them had agreed – they wanted her to be a Seraphin.
Eowyn had been torn. She got along with the Seraphins, and when she fought with them, it felt like she knew what they were going to do and when. She knew that if the enemy brought a mech designed to tear up her Madcat, the Seraphins would target that mech first. And they usually took it down before it could touch her, freeing her up to tear into the mechs her Cat was designed to destroy. They were some of the best pilots to fight next to, and the worst to fight against. Eowyn had lost count of how many warriors walked away from the battlefield as soon as they saw a Seraphin on the other side.
An invitation to join the Seraphins was not given lightly, and many pilots would sell their soul for one. But not just any pilot could try out. First, you have to get noticed, which means you have to have skill. Second, you have to have a Sponsor, which means you have to get to know them. Third, they take a secret vote, which means you have to get along with the majority of them. Only if the majority of them agree will a pilot be extended an invitation. And all Eowyn had to do was accept the invitation and pass the ToE.
Ultimately, loyalty to Khan and Clan had won, and Eowyn had turned down the invitation.
Mind swirling with memories of the past and the uncertainties of the future, Eowyn let her feet guide her through the hanger. Her feet led her to the bay her Cat was parked in. Staring up at the 75 ton battlemech with its powerful weapons primed and ready to rain death and destruction on her foes, Eowyn couldn’t help but feel small and insignificant. Always more at home with her mech than anywhere else, she grabbed her toolkit off the workbench in the bay and started climbing up the side of the war machine. Perching on the left arm, she reached into the toolkit for a screwdriver, intent on checking that screw just below the cockpit glass that always seemed to be working itself loose. Before her searching hand found the tool, her eyes shifted to the pilot’s chair. Sitting in the seat were two envelopes.
Punching in her pass code, Eowyn opened the cockpit and dropped inside. Opening the top envelope, she read the letter from Jackal. After waiting a time to hear from her about reforming CoR, he had tried to rally their former clan mates. He could only find a few that would follow him, so he decided to accept an invitation from another Clan. He wished her well with whatever she decided to do. Sighing, she put that letter in her pocket. She grabbed the other one and the can of black primer she kept for field repairs. She had seen a spot of bare metal on her climb up.
Back out on the arm, Eowyn opened the second envelope, expecting another farewell from a former clan mate. It was from Cele. He said that he was going to be starting a new clan. He went on to say that he wanted her and a select few others from CoR to join. He wanted her to be his SaKhan. She noticed the names of some of her closest friends were missing from the list of who was to be invited. People Cele knew she was close friends with.
Pain and betrayal warred within her for dominance as she tore the letter into confetti, growling in frustration. How could he do this? And how could he expect her to just blindly follow him after what he had done to CoR? With the pieces still floating to the ground, and her growl echoing through the hanger, Eowyn grabbed the can of paint and started spraying over the clan emblem on the side of the Cat’s face. Lady Eowyn of the Clan of the Rohirrim no longer existed.
After covering every clan marking with the black primer, Eowyn walked over to where Wicked was rummaging through what had been abandoned by one of her former clan mates. “I need a place to store my Cat. Can I rent a bay from you guys?” she asked as she pulled out her boot knife. “I can’t leave her here.”
“You can use one of the empties as long as you need to,” he replied, his tone saying that she didn’t need to ask. Sorting through a pile of scrap parts, he pulled out a damaged neural helmet. “This can be fixed. Can I have it?”
“Sure Wic. Take whatever you want. Everyone’s gone but me.” She replied, not noticing the look of concern he shot at her. Walking over to a bit of steel wall that someone had polished into a crude mirror, Eowyn cut the clan insignia from her uniform before replacing her boot knife. “I’m gonna go look for a tow pod for my Cat. I think my shuttle has enough power to tow her.”
“We’ll give ya a lift. Grief radioed me while you were painting. We’re pickin a fight in this sector tomorrow, and they’re swinging by here to pick me up. May as well grab your Cat with the drop ship while it’s in the area.”
“Sounds good.” She grabbed a box out from under a table in the bay Wicked was rummaging through, and dumped the contents on the floor. “Mind if I wing ya? I could really use a good fight right now.” Without waiting to hear his reply, she walked back her bay and started packing her tools.
“Anytime Girlie, anytime.
The next month passed quickly. Eowyn spent as much time in battle as she could, even jumping into fights she usually stayed out of. When she wasn’t fighting, she was fielding offers of membership from other units. Several of CoR’s former allies wanted her to be an officer in their clans. She kept putting off the decision, still grieving for her lost clan.
Returning to the Seraphin base after a battle on a desert planet, Eowyn found another stack of letters waiting for her. Most likely they were from former clan mates asking her to join whatever unit they’d joined after CoR was disbanned. Shaking sand out of her boots, Eowyn looked at the pile of letters waiting to be opened and replied to. Sighing, she stood up and started peeling off her uniform for a shower - she’d deal with them after she was clean.
As she turned to go into the bathroom, the now empty sleeve of her uniform swung out and knocked the pile onto the floor. Swearing, she started picking them up, until one caught her eye. It was from Hunter – her Hunter. Standing back up, she opened the envelope and took out the single page. She read it, then started laughing. Hunter knew her so well that he’d only needed two words.
Quit stalling.
Wearing the blue coveralls that she’d picked up last week for working on her mech, Eowyn entered the Seraphin hanger. Smiling, she waved a greeting to everyone she passed on her way to her destination. Bypassing her borrowed bay, she strode into Wicked’s bay where he was checking the knees of his Thor. Satisfied that the mech was in good working condition, he turned around and asked her “What’s up?”
“I’m ready.”
Raising an eyebrow, “You sure?”
“Yes.”
“Alright, I’ll let you know when it’s set up.”
“Thank you.”
As she walked out of his bay, she thought she heard him mutter “No, thank you.”
Over the next month, Eowyn spent more time in the simulator than on an actual battlefield. She was going to have to dual with five Seraphins, and beat at least three of them before she could become one of them. She needed all the practice she could get. And she wouldn’t know until just beforehand who she would be dueling. As the leader of the Seraphins, Grief would probably be there, and her sponsor. But last she heard, Wicked, Voodoo, and Ice were arguing over which one of them was her sponsor. So she had to be ready to fight every last one of them. This tactic if Pain was there, but this one if VX was there, but that one if Storm was there……
Doubts filled Eowyn’s mind as she started powering up systems. “These guys are the best of the best. The be all end all. What was I thinking? Why did I ever think I could defeat any of these guys, let alone three of them?” Round and round the questions circled her mind, bringing an uneasy edge to the usual pre-battle tension. Across the field, five Seraphin were powering up their own mechs.
The comms crackled as Grief made sure everyone knew the rules. Her heart pounding, Eowyn checked her weapons again. She’d never used this loadout outside the simulator before, but she had needed an edge of some sort. Perhaps the difference in weapons will be enough. She’d know soon enough.
“OK, I’m first then.” Grief said, walking his mech twards her. “Ready?”
“Yes.”
“On one then. Three. Two. One. GO!”
Climbing out of her mech amid rowdy cheers, Eowyn smiled. She had no doubt that she had done her best. And her best had been more than enough. Even the four Seraphins she had defeated wore the broad grins of victory.
Wicked stepped through the crowd and leaned close enough for her to hear him say “Knew ya could do it Girlie.” Shaking her hand, he pressed something into it. “Had this done up for ya months ago.” Then he turned and started leading the pirates to the bar to celebrate.
Putting her helmet on the workbench in her hanger, she looked at the patch Wicked had given her. Sewing it on her jumpsuit would have to wait, so she dug a couple pins out of her bag and pinned it in place and ran to catch up with the others.
Catching her reflection in the mirror behind the bar, she smiled. Lady Eowyn of the Clan of the Rohirrim was gone forever, and in her place stood a new mechwarrior, her name given to her by her new family.
Rose Seraphin.