Does this cooling vest make me look fat, quiaff? - deviantART

Does this cooling vest make me look fat, quiaff?
Written by x-22
Near Apollo Peak
Black Earth
Clan Jade Falcon Occupation Zone
23 October 3064
Smoking wrecks of Lyran tanks twisted almost beyond recognition littered the broken hills. The
blazing fires and billowing black streams played tricks on Colonel Carver's sensors as he navigated
his enormous 80-ton BattleMech across the battlefield. Standing firmly on its sturdy legs, the
lumbering Awesome stepped on the scattered pieces of an unlucky Vedette tank, its mangled remains
flattened under the humanoid metal giant's feet.
"This smoke is impenetrable," Allan Carver muttered under his breath, careful not to share his
frustration with the rest of his unit. Standing toe-to-toe with the fearsome warriors of the Clans was
enough for the rookies; no need to agitate them further by stating the obvious.
While he could not see a thing, someone had evidently caught a glimpse of him. As his 'Mech
stood there, blind and helpless, a woman's voice called over the comm:
"Take heed, freebirth scum! This is Star Commander Eva Buhallin of the Jade Falcon Clan. I
challenge the pilot of your commander's Awesome to a duel under the rules of zellbrigen. Surprise
me with a shred of dignity and skill, barbarian, and I might allow you the honour of submitting to
me as bondsman!"
Out of the smoke stepped the broad silhouette of a Turkina. Easily outweighing Carver's 'Mech
by several tons and bristling with lasers, its pilot was no doubt itching for him to accept the
challenge and bring those weapons to bear.
Hardly a fair fight, Carver observed wryly. Are you that desperate for a kill, Star Commander?
Switching his comm to the open channel, he left his bulky 'Mech idle as he replied. No need to give
a glory-hungry Falcon any reason to throw honour out the air-lock and jump the gun.
"Very well, Star Commander, I accept your challenge," he said, watching his heat monitor
carefully for any spikes that might signify a sudden attack. "Though I think you've got that
backwards, quiaff?" He paused, seeing if his taunt would net him a face full of lightning. "But don't
worry; I'll be magnanimous in victory regardless."
"You dare question my honour??" the woman's voice shrieked into his comm. "Trivial though it
will be, your death shall bring me pleasure, freebirth!"
"Whatever you you say, darling," Carver shrugged and sent his 'Mech lurching backwards as he

squeezed the trigger on all four of his particle projector cannons. Streaks of man-made lightning
shot towards the Turkina, passing the Clan 'Mech's own salvo of energy beams. Carver could see the
Falcon 'Mech's heat levels skyrocket, a split second before opposing fire scorched the thick armour
of his 'Mech. Tons of metal evaporated in a matter of moments, but the stout Awesome stood rock
solid before the onslaught.
I've got to get away from those pulse lasers, at least, Carver told himself. Looking for some
cover, he constantly kept an eye on his recharging PPCs. The Falcon kept her quartet of of rapid-
firing pulse lasers spewing out bolts of energy as she advanced relentlessly.
The Turkina's biggest lasers fired again and an explosion rocked Carver's Awesome. Oh dear, was
all he managed to think. The merciless pounding he had received from those pulse lasers had
exposed his 'Mech's left arm, leaving the larger lasers free to punch through and immobilize its
shoulder.
Looking to clip my wings, are you? Carver growled silently, relieved to see the arm's PPC still
operational. Wasting no time, he let his opponent have another full salvo.
"I'm afraid you'll have to do a little better than that," he quipped over the comm. As he thought
the Falcon did not leave up her constant barrage. And that's a good thing? he asked himself as he
watched his armour melt against the onslaught. At least her attacks were less focussed now.
"Colonel, I've got a clear shot at the clanner's rear!" a young woman's voice broke in over
Carver's comm.
"You stay out of this, 'Duchess'," Carver warned her. Clanners did not take kindly to people
interfering in their duels and the girl's lightweight Wolfhound would not stand a chance against that
assault class 'Mech. Not that I wouldn't welcome the distraction, he added to himself as another
salvo of laser fire rocked the cockpit. That one was a bit too close for comfort.
The Awesome was backing away at highest possible speed, but his opponent was steadily
advancing to match his pace. A well-concentrated four-laser salvo spelled the end of one of his
PPCs. Meanwhile, the Turkina's arsenal seemed to be intact. I must be hitting something on that
thing. Carver gritted his teeth, sweat pouring down his back as the heat sinks on his 'Mech struggled
to counteract the massive energy spike of yet another salvo from his remaining guns. Evidently tired
of indulging her opponent by remaining outside optimal range, the Falcon 'Mech picked up the pace
and lurched into a run.
"Now that's more like it!" Carver exclaimed, as a burnt-out agri-complex he had spotted earlier
came into view. Slamming the throttle out of reverse, he sent his 'Mech forward, veering away from
the laser-spewing 95 tons of steel and myomer barrelling towards him. Hopefully it would buy him
enough time to lumber behind the closest building – and if the Star Commander was in a hurry...
As he took up position as close to the ferrocrete wall as possible, Carver thought he he heard a

oar behind him.
"'Duchess'?" he called over the comm. "Please tell me the Falcon just stomped her angry little
feet on the jump pedals?"
"It's coming right towards you!" the girl screamed back, answering him even if she was too
excited to notice the question.
That thing needs a few meters of clearance to land, right? Carver wondered as he picked up the
Turkina's white-hot heat signature coming in from behind. Too close and his PPCs would be
useless, leaving him to just tickle his opponent with the Awesome's tiny backup laser while the
Falcon turned around for the killing blow.
Jump jets roaring, the Clan assault 'Mech came into sight above him. Coming down in a wide
arc, it crashed heavily onto the ground, pulverizing a toppled grain silo beneath its three-toed feet.
Righting her 'Mech after the thunderous landing, the Falcon took a second to locate Carver behind
her. It was all the time he needed.
Crackling bluish beams of energy shot from the beleaguered Awesome, cutting into the
vulnerable rear torso of the Turkina. As he had hoped, Carver's salvo struck straight to the bigger
'Mech's power plant and sent it reeling. Staggering forward, trying to right itself, the Turkina's heat
signature flashed a blinding white as heat spewed through the reactor's failing shields. The shot had
not been enough to take out the reactor itself, but Carver could imagine the warning klaxons blaring
in his opponent's ear as its heat level reached critical levels.
Wiping the sweat from his brow, Carver breathed a sigh of relief as he saw the enemy 'Mech shut
down to protect itself from its own blistering temperatures. "TacOps, give me a local intel update,"
he panted into his comm. Judging from the state of his Awesome there had better not be another
eager clanner in an assault 'Mech out there.
The Turkina pilot was glistening with sweat when the salvage team pulled her, half-conscious,
from the cockpit of her downed 'Mech. Dressed in little more than a cooling vest, her naked limbs
betrayed the powerfully built body of a warrior. As the technicians took off her neurohelmet, long
dark hair fell out to frame an angular face as fierce as her Clan's namesake.
"Good show out there, darling," Carver said. His tone was flippant, but he did mean it. "Now,
what was that about dignity and skill? Oh, right: This is the part I allow you the honour of
submitting to me, quiaff?"
The anger in the Jade Falcon Commander's half-closed eyes could melt ferro-fibrous plating, but
it was all she could manage before she passed out.

Mercenary DropShip Implacable
In orbit over Black Earth
Clan Jade Falcon Occupation Zone
24 October 3064
Growling as much as she groaned from the thundering in her head, former Star Commander Eva
Buhallin found herself stirring in a generously padded bunk. The rest of the room was fairly austere,
but nicely decorated for a spacecraft cabin. None of that mattered as much as the dark-haired man
with the chiselled jaw standing in it.
"What do you want, stravag?" Eva hissed and bolted upright.
"I came to give you this," Carver said as solemnly as he could manage while waving around
three strings of pink, baby blue and pastel green yarn woven together. Fortunately, "Duchess" kept
at her knitting hobby for him to scavenge it. "This is how you guys do this, right?"
The Falcon's eyes narrowed: "That is not a bondcord," she said, referring to the band indicating
one's indentured servitude to a member of the Clans. "That's a piece of... fluffy string, quiaff?"
"It's an Inner Sphere bondcord," Carver lied. Despite having been in this part of space for over a
decade, the Clans were not quick to pick up on the customs of "barbarians" such as himself. Or so
he hoped.
Eva's lips curled in disgust at the thought of being subordinate to a freeborn mercenary: "You
should have granted me an honourable death."
"It's a bit late for that now, don't you think?" Carver disagreed, motioning gravely towards the
brightly coloured cord.
"Very well." Grudgingly, the Falcon inclined her head in acceptance. "You have bested me in
passably honourable combat and I accept you as my bondholder, colonel...?"
Bending forward – not without a fear of having an ear bitten off – Carver secured the flimsy yarn
around Eva's wrist. "Allan Carver," he said. "Now, that wasn't so hard, was it?"
The bondswoman said nothing, but obviously disagreed. Nevertheless, any fear of attack was
unfounded: In keeping with Clan honour, the former Star Commander accepted her fate.
"Well, then... why don't you just stay here and we'll fix you up with something to eat?"

Mercenary DropShip Implacable
En route to Melissia
Lyran Alliance
1 November 3064
"Then what do you suggest we do with her? We can't trust her with one of our 'Mechs,
certainly?"
The DropShip's little common room – very officially, and very jokingly, known as the "War
Room" when mercenary business was being discussed – was filled up as the mercenaries discussed
their latest "acquisition".
A hefty woman with thick, blonde hair – former Lyran MechWarrior Anita Neuhafen – crossed
her arms over her tight-fitting uniform. Her full lips clenched sternly, she awaited her superior's
response.
Colonel Carver replied to his tactical operations officer's glare with a weary look: "The Falcon's
honour compels her to obey without question," he assured her. "But it would be stupid to risk it,
especially while we're still fighting her fellow clanmates."
"Then why do we not return her to them?" Amanda "Duchess" Engleton piped up. She might be
a poor military woman and an unimpressive 'Mech pilot, but the bright-faced young woman had no
problem voicing her opinions. "Surely the Falcons would be happy to trade for one of their own?"
"The Clans don't care about hostages," towering Salomon Becker explained. The taciturn giant of
a man had enough patience with the girl's naiveté for the whole unit. "To them, she's as good as
dead."
Nodding, Carver chimed in: "Besides, bondsmen need to earn their freedom. Let her go too
easily and she might just insist she stay on."
Behind a beaten up VidChess table, broad-shouldered Helen Garganti – commander of the
mercenaries' armour assets – threw down her hands and groaned: "Well, that's just great. We're
stuck here with a crazy clanner who might stab us in the back at any time, that we can't get rid off."
"That's how it's going to be," Carver concluded. Looking around, he added: "Besides, she might
know something useful. 'Duchess', why don't you sweet talk her a bit when you... has anybody seen
'Duchess'?"
In her cabin, former Star Commander Eva Buhallin lay in her bed, staring angrily at the ceiling
as she was wont to do. Only the hiss of the pneumatic door gliding open made her break off the
eternal staring contest.
"Hey, it's me, Amanda." The sound of the girl's voice saw Eva swing her legs over the edge of
the bed and sit upright.

"Ah, is it dinner already?" The contemptuous glint in the bondswoman's eyes gave way to an
eager glow. She craned her neck: "Is it... strawberry ice-cream?" she guessed. "Or pee-cha?"
"It is not pizza," Amanda told her and peeked into the package: "I believe it is what the
commoners call 'macaroni and cheese'. Or, if you want, I guess there is also fish au gratin and some
leftover chicken."
"I would like to try all of them," Eva said, licking her lips. "Can you ask Colonel Carver if I may
have all of them?"
"Yeah, sure..." Amanda rolled her eyes and groaned. Offloading the first batch of dinner and
dessert in Eva's lap, she left to get the rest – with no intention of asking Carver about anything.
Eager chewing and slurping noises met the "Duchess" when she returned with another batch of
AluFoam trays in her arms.
"The food of your Inner Sphere is strange..." Eva mumbled through huge mouthfuls. "...but
surprisingly pleasing, quiaff?"
Amanda's mouth froze in a dissenting grimace of silent disgust as she glanced down on the
heavily processed spaceship food. "Yeah... let us just say that if you ever dined at my mom's
mansion, your head would explode," she said sarcastically and just in case she had forgot to
mention it, she added: "She is a baroness, you know."
The former Star Commander did not seem to care – or notice. Instead, she was eyeing the
contents of the latest arrivals to her meal with hungry curiosity. Opening each container in turn, she
seemed to be looking for something.
"Fine, fine!" Amanda sighed melodramatically. "I shall get you your stupid strawberry ice
cream!"
Mercenary DropShip Implacable
In orbit over Melissia
Lyran Alliance
25 November 3064
"You do not understand!" Eva blurted out, wiping chocolate pudding from her mouth and waving
her spoon as if it was a sword. "You must let me fight at your side. I hear that traitor stravag Phelan
Kell leads the attack on Melissia – you cannot leave me on the sideline while his dogs reap all the
glory!"
"I think it would be best if you sit this one out," Carver retorted. Even if the rest of the unit had
trusted her, they were short on 'Mechs in working order as it was. The colonel smiled wryly to
himself: I wonder how the Star Commander would like to borrow a 'Mech from the 'traitor stravag'

Phelan Kell's Wolf Clan. There certainly was no love lost there. "Why are you so eager to fight your
own people, anyway?"
"You stripped me of my Clan, Colonel," Eva reminded him, angrily tearing into a candy bar.
Despite herself, a sound of contentment rose from her throat as she took a big bite. Glancing away,
she tried to conceal it with an indignant grunt. "If you will not allow me earn my freedom, Colonel,
how can I keep my oath?" With an intense stare from those bright, green eyes, she hinted at what an
unfortunate circumstance that would be for her captor.
"There are other ways to prove yourself," Carver insisted, folding his arms – to ward himself
from Eva's silent threat, perhaps. "Have patience: You'll get your chance to fight, but not today."
Discarding the empty candy wrapper in the steadily rising pile beside her bed, Eva reached for
another box of chocolate. Finding it to be full – the first box she had unwittingly emptied and
discarded – her pinched expression mellowed: "As you say, Colonel," she nodded and continued to
eat. "I will remain here for the time being."
On his way to the War Room, Carver bumped into tactical operations officer Lt. Colonel
Neuhafen. The fat blonde glanced past him down the hall and asked: "And how is our pet Falcon?"
"Good, I think: I think I only got a single death threat this time."
Anita feigned astonishment, nodding approvingly: "Wow. You don't say?" Hands on her hips, she
straightened up in order to mitigate the height difference between them, her hefty gut shifting
beneath her snug uniform as she did so. "And what do we do with her while you are planetside and
watching Phelan Kell's ass? You aren't thinking of bringing her with you?" Knowing her
commander, she eyed him cautiously: "Are you?"
"I'd have her ride with 'Duchess'," Carver winked, "but we both know her fashion babble would
drive our clan companion to murder. Better Eva stays in her cabin after we make planetfall, I think."
"As you say," Anita nodded, having gotten the answer she was looking for. "And looking at our
provisions budget lately, I think I know how..."
Mercenary DropShip Implacable
Machida
Lyran Alliance
5 June 3065
In addition to having an eye for 'Mech tactics, Anita Neuhafen really knew how to fill out an
office chair. Meeting with Colonel Carver in his quarters, she was close to spilling out of her seat
and constantly shifting her weight as the armrests dug into her love handles on one side, then the
other.

"Looks like General Steiner has this thing in hand," Carver observed as he scanned the latest
reports. "We still have to hold this sector, however."
Anita nodded: "May I suggest we find a quiet place to rack up some decent salvage before they
realize we're still on a rather generous contract?"
"I doubt these second-line stars will bring us a very fat haul." The reports indicated one or two
five-'Mech units advancing on their position. "Still, it's a perfect chance for the rookies to get some
proper exercise. In fact..." Tapping his chin, Carver thanked his tactical operations officer for the
update and bade her leave. Giving himself a moment to think, he punched in a number on his
comm.
"Mmm?" came the mumbling reply from the other end.
"Eva, I have some good news for you: We have been tasked with holding Pernic's Pass and are
expecting a push from a Jade Falcon binary and could use a hand," Carver exaggerated. "There's a
Hunchback waiting in the 'Mech bay for you."
"Oh," was the curt reply.
Carver raised an eyebrow: "I thought you'd be thrilled with the chance to spend a few weeks out
in the field?"
An awkward cough.
"Is that an order, Colonel?" Eva said eventually.
A puzzled look on his face, Carver replied with a curt "I'll be right over." Switching off the
comm, he grabbed his jacket and left.
Forgetting to knock, Carver stumbled in on Eva struggling with the white trousers of her
uniform. As a way of welcoming her into the unit, Carver had given her an old uniform to wear
around the DropShip. Now, six months later, she was apparently having some trouble getting it over
her thighs: The waistband cut into them, seeing them bulge out with new-found plumpness. Bent
over, her rear ballooned impressively, its taut cheeks threatening to escape her boyshorts.
Hearing the hiss of the door, Eva turned around. In her surprise, she straightened up, letting her
ill-fitting trousers fall to pool at her ankles. Nearly naked, there was no hiding the growing pot belly
bulging over her underwear, nor her even plumper love handles, so ample that a deep crease formed
where they met her midriff
"Colonel," the bondswoman said awkwardly and made a hasty salute. Her fierce features
appeared softer, a little puffy and a plump cushion had formed under her sharp chin.
"I guess I should have knocked," Carver grinned apologetically, trying to joke away the cloud of
embarrassment that filled the room. Opposite him, Eva tried to pretend she did not care: Nudity
carried no stigma among the Clans, but something else obviously did.

"You wanted to speak to me?" the bondwoman said haughtily.
"Yeah..." Unable to help himself from marvelling at how soft the fearsome Clan warrior had
grown, Carver realized that no part of her body had escaped being cushioned by a noticeable layer
of flab. Managing to tear his eyes away, he found his voice again: "Like I said, I need your help.
You wanted a chance to prove yourself, right?"
"Aff," Eva nodded reluctantly. Dropping her gaze, it fell on the ball of dough jutting out over her
shorts. Colour rose in her not-so-gaunt cheeks.
Carver paused before continuing, letting the out-of-shape clanner squirm while he collected his
thoughts. "We need you to... tell the rookies how Falcons fight," he began. Was that relief he saw in
her eyes? "Your knowledge will be invaluable in the upcoming battle," he exaggerated. "Do this and
you will have the first strand of your bondcord severed," he promised. Even more tantalizing, he
suspected, was the second offer: "And as much strawberry ice cream as you want for as long as you
remain with us."
"As you command, Colonel Carver," Eva grinned broadly and licked her lips.