BattleTech: A New Game

Steven Mohan, Jr.

A New Game

By Steven Mohan, Jr.

KOMACHE FIELDS, JUST OUTSIDE SCHWARTZSTADT

SCHWARTZ, DRACONIS COMBINE

15 MARCH 3050

Tai-sa Mark Graham pulled his jacket closed against the chill of the early dawn and looked up at a purple sky fading to deep indigo along the eastern horizon. The whole world seemed to be asleep. They stood alone in a farmer’s field shivering as a cold breeze rustled through waist-high rye. The field tent at their back was silent and dark. The whole world seemed to be asleep. 

But that was a lie. A kusottare lie.

Danger was coming.

A strange, nameless danger.

They knew little about their new enemy. Snatches of intercepts. A few battleROM video clips. The panicked call of dying pilots. All smuggled out on JumpShips escaping from systems under attack. That was all the information they had, knitted together with the best speculation money could buy.

On Richmond, on Tarnby, on Idlewind, the invaders had issued challenges before attacking. But not here. Graham didn’t know if this was a good thing or not—but he found the change unsettling. It subtracted from his meager storehouse of knowledge.

And he already knew so little about the invaders.

“The troops are restless,” murmured Chu-sa Connie Wills.

A thin smile traced its way across Graham’s face, but he didn’t turn to share it with Wills. She was a DCMS soldier, so she wouldn’t question her superior’s orders. Instead, she raised an innocent point that would lead Graham’s own mind to raise her objection for her.

“We do not know this enemy?” 

Graham asked softly, his eyes still searching the empty sky. The enemy had appeared at a near pirate point and they were coming in hot—two-plus gees. So where were they?

“Hai,” answered Wills.

“That is a disadvantage—but also an advantage.”

“Because they do not know us,” Wills admitted.

“This land is flat and without feature,” said Graham. “Without cover. Risky land on which to face an unknown opponent. It is as I learned at Sun Zhang: ‘Always fight war with both eyes open.’ On such land one’s first misjudgment will be one’s last? But set your troops down beyond some barrier—” He nodded in the direction of the empty eastern sky, which was now more gunmetal than indigo. “Say, the Tieferblau River, there. Then you have time to survey the ground upon which you will fight. They’ll come to us slowly. I think we have six hours before the enemy deploys, Chu-sa, or perhaps as many as twelve. I will not have my soldiers wait in their cockpits so they are exhausted at the very moment they are needed.”

Wills said nothing.

After a moment, Graham turned. “Speak your mind, Chu-sa,” he said softly.

He could barely make out her face in the semi-darkness. Wills was a small woman, blond and fair, built out of skin and slender bones, she reminded him of a bird. But she possessed the heart of a samurai.

She squared her shoulders. “As near as the ISF has been able to figure they took Richmond in barely a week. And Idlewind. Tarnby.”

Graham said nothing, letting her come to it in her own way.

“Perhaps, Tai-sa, perhaps none of our assumptions apply.”

Graham turned to look at the eastern sky. The still empty eastern sky. The chill he felt wasn’t from the breeze.

“There!” shouted Wills.

Graham wheeled around and saw his aide’s arm stabbing up, pointing high into the bowl of the sky. A star blossomed at the sky’s still-indigo zenith, burning plasma gold against the darkness. The DropShip was almost directly overhead.

Coming down fast.

For a long moment Graham watched the golden flare of light tumble out of the traitorous sky.

The DropShip must be off course. Or it suffered from a mechanical failure. Or it was waiting to maneuver.

It had to be. These strange and nameless invaders still had to follow the laws of warfare. It could not be that they could fight blind.

Still, the golden star plummeted straight down.

Iie. A second star had appeared in the same patch of sky that had birthed the first. A second star and now a third. Fourth. Fifth.

Graham’s stomach twisted into a knot.

And now the golden stars were spawning smaller stars, bright diamond pinpricks of light. BattleMechs. BattleMechs with jump packs. They would be down in minutes.

The enemy was dropping right on top of them.

It was too late to get his aerospace forces up, too late to hit the falling BattleMechs. He had held his aerospace forces in reserve, not wanting to batter his Shilones and Lightnings against DropShips. Not expecting the enemy to launch a vertical assault.

And now it was too late.

Suddenly Graham’s mouth tasted like sand: filthy and gritty and dry. He jerked a communications device from his pocket with a trembling hand, and clicked it to the all-unit frequency. “Ninth Pesht Regulars, this is Pride Actual.” Somehow he managed to keep the tremor he felt in his heart out of his voice. “I hold the enemy dropping on our camp. Emergency deployment. I say again, EMERGENCY DEPLOYMENT.”

A chorus of “hais” emerged from his radio, but Graham didn’t hear them. He was already sprinting for the darkened field tent, Chu-sa Wills racing after him.

Smoldering, black scars marred earth that had once been clothed in green and gold. Columns of roiling, acrid smoke reached into the blue sky, stabbing into heaven’s belly. The terrible rattle of autocannons, the shriek of lasers, the whipcrack of PPCs, all of it merged into a horrific thunder that rolled across the land. Down on the ground, infantry died among the smell of blood and burned steel, killed by giant battlesuit infantry that seemed too large to be inhabited by human beings.

The Pride of Pesht was a line of white and jade arrayed in a broad arc, a bowl whose bottom was nearly touching the capital city of Schwartzstadt. A bowl steadily being flattened by the weight of the invaders. 

And Mark Graham could do nothing about any of it. 

What had he said to Chu-sa Wills? This land is flat and without feature. Without cover. Risky land on which to face an unknown opponent.

He watched as a mottled gray and black machine with yellow highlights raced toward his line at 120 kph. The light ’Mech was humanoid, its cockpit-head set well below powerful shoulders, arms bulging with weapon pods that bristled with missiles. A couple hundred meters short of the Pride line, the light machine crouched. 

And leaped.

On such land, one’s first misjudgment will be one’s last.

For a heartbeat, Graham watched the light ’Mech rise into the robin’s egg sky. Graham didn’t have much intel on the invaders, but his staff had learned enough about the light ’Mech numbered go to know that Number Five was very good at slaughtering Combine infantry.

And spotting for more powerful machines.

On its right leg was the black silhouette of a soldier, a rifle in his hands, a blue star-spangled sky behind him. On its left was a simpler emblem. A leaping cat, fangs bared, claws slashing through the air.

The invaders called themselves Smoke Jaguar.

Graham threw his massive Katana forward, smashing into the strange BattleMech just as it came down on six plumes of argent plasma. The crushing impact slammed his jaws together with a clack. For a moment, terrible forces bounced him in his cockpit, the straps of his five-point safety restraint biting into his flesh. He gripped the control sticks with sweaty hands, riding out the storm.

The Go wasn’t quite so fortunate.

Giving up roughly sixty tons to the Katana, Graham’s charge was enough to knock it over. The earth shook with the massive impact. The fallen machine rocked on the ground, trying to right itself. Graham bared his teeth and stalked his assault machine forward. He brought one massive foot down on the Go’s cockpit, crushing the Jaguar pilot into a thin film of red paste.

“I am Star Colonel Thilla Showers,” said a woman’s voice, harsh and powerful. “I am a warrior of Clan Smoke Jaguar, and I command Delta Galaxy’s Nineteenth Striker Cluster. I pilot a Dire Wolf. I invoke the ritual of zellbrigen and challenge the Crockett to a duel of warriors.” Crockett? Why was she using the Star League designation for his Katana? “In this solemn matter, let no one interfere.”

Pulse lasers suddenly cut ruby stitches into the left side of his chest. Graham stepped into a turn and found himself facing an assault ’Mech Ichi or, what did she say...Dire Wolf?

Graham dialed up her channel. “So, you are issuing challenges again.” He sent a double flight of twelve SRMs corkscrewing toward the Number One. He stepped right as laser fire slashed past him. “I’d thought you’d given that up.”

“I shall ignore your language,” answered Showers curtly. 

Language? Graham wondered. What did I say?

“We expected you to be little better than pirates,” said the woman. “But you have behaved honorably, keeping to the code of zellbrigen. And so we return your courtesy.” She ripped into him with dual autocannons.

The truth was he was just being pragmatic. Based on his thin store of intelligence he suspected the Jaguars, whoever they were, seemed to favor strict dueling rules, one machine versus another. Once a third machine entered the fray, the fight rapidly dissolved into a free-for-all. Graham had instructed his warriors to carefully follow the dueling rules. If the Jaguars wanted to kill his people slow rather than fast that was fine with him.

He would keep to the Jaguars’ zellbrigen exactly as long as it brought him an advantage.

So he said: “Don’t mention it.”

“Again you dishonor yourself with your words.”

By the Dragon, what is she talking about? He splashed laser fire across her cockpit.

The enemy Ichi, or Dire Wolf, as Showers called it, was massive, pushing ninety tons, maybe even a hundred—meaning Graham gave up ten, fifteen tons. It strode across the farmland on a backward-bent legs, its rounded cockpit shielded by a cobra’s hood. 

Graham tore into the Ichi with the pair of Magna Mark III large lasers that made up his arms, emerald fire scouring mottled paint from the enemy BattleMech’s left leg. Even through his cockpit he felt the lasers’ vibration.

 The temperature spiked in Graham’s cockpit as the lasers’ waste heat washed through his machine. The sweat on his skin flash-dried and he panted, unable to take a full breath of the superheated air.

He followed the laser fire with a steady stream of autocannon fire and more missiles, shattering armor across the enemy cockpit, a flash of green mist telling him he’d gotten a heat sink.

A feral smile twisted across Graham’s face. Just what he wanted.

More heat.

The Ichi tore into him with the bundle of lasers in its right and left arm pods, a flurry of crimson fire that caused Graham’s wire frame schematic flicker green-to-yellow as armor melted and dripped off his chassis, setting fire to the stalks of wheat beneath his Katana’s feet.

The enemy machine’s strike had hurt him—but all those energy weapons had to be playing hell with the monster’s heat load.

Graham hit him again, this time with all four lasers.

Somehow, somehow, the monster struck back.

What the—

The monster had just lost a heat sink and it was practically bathing in emerald fire. The enemy cockpit had to be a sauna. So why hadn’t Showers backed off her energy weapons?

Despair washed through Graham. At last he understood the rapid fall of Combine worlds. The defeat of the First Alshain Regulars, the Fourth Pesht, and the Idlewind Stormtroopers hadn’t been due to poor tactics or inferior courage. These Smoke Jaguars came with ’Mech designs never before seen in the Inner Sphere. Their machines were more heavily armed and armored, and somehow heat was nothing to them.

And they fought with a ferocity like no opponent Graham had ever faced.

He glanced right. Chu-sa Wills’s Banshee was retreating before a, a— He glanced down at his tactical diagram. His Warbook named the enemy machine Ni, which meant “two.” Like the monster he was facing this machine was a beast—eighty-five tons and armed to the teeth. 

All up and down his line, his people were giving ground.

He cut into the Ichi with his large lasers, as he hit his jump jets for a quick backwards hop. Then juking right and left to try to throw off the enemy machine’s firing solution.

His destruction of the Go had bought them a moment, but only a moment. If the Ninth were to prevail, to survive, he would have to do something with that moment.

Graham glanced down at his rearview strip, at the dark buildings of Schwartzstadt at his back. He was pledged to protect this city, this world, but if he held his line much longer his regiment would be smashed. There was no other way.

He toggled his all-unit frequency. “All Ninth Pesht Regulars, this is Pride Actual. Fighting withdrawal. I say again, fighting withdrawal. Assault units hold and cover. Reform at Grid Eight Nine Seven Three.”

And then he toggled his comms gear, selecting Wills’s personal frequency. To her he gave very different orders.

Graham fell back along the radial street called Sakura-dori. Sakura meant “wealth” and indeed the street was wealthy, lined with banks whose facades were fashioned from polished granite or dark green marble. Elegant shops bore names displayed in Kanji characters carved from shimmering gold. Here the abandoned vehicles were Avanti limousines and Durandel-British sports cars. Even the zebra crossings were beautiful—white bars stretched diagonally across intersections so rich pedestrians would only have to cross once.

The Ichi turned a corner and cut into him with its twin autocannons. There was a Ni behind it, and behind that another Ichi-Ni pair and one of the mediums numbered shi. Five ’Mechs in the Jaguar command “lance.”

Graham side-stepped right down Circular Road Number Three, ducking behind a corner office building faced with silvered glass just as he hit the Ichi with a flight of SRMs. The Ichi’s weapons followed Graham right, smashing into the building and sending glass, office furniture—and bodies—tumbling to the street below.

Graham’s jaw set. “What kind of barbarian slaughters innocent civilians?” he snarled.

Showers answered back at once. “What kind of barbarian hides behind innocent civilians?”

Graham roared with fury and turned, using the time it would take the Ichi to clear the corner to put some distance between him and his attacker. He raced along Circular Road Three at his top speed of fifty-four kph.

It had been a gut-wrenching decision to retreat into the city, but it had saved the better part of his regiment. What had been a coordinated attack by the Smoke Jaguars was now a street-by-street slugfest where numbers mattered less than knowledge of the city.

Graham’s troops were being slaughtered on farmland—so he’d moved the fight to different ground.

“When you invade people’s worlds and kill their people, you can’t expect them to play by your rules,” he snapped.

He pivoted as he reached another radial road, Shijo-dori, and turned again just as the Ichi thundered past the office building’s edge. Graham was already back-stepping his Katana down Shijo. A flurry of ruby lines slashed past his cockpit, missing by meters. 

“We do not deliberately kill civilians.” She smashed his armor with LRMs. He shook his head. Apparently Jaguar LRMs had no minimum range. 

“Oh, sure,” said Graham, “obviously you love all living things.”

And then he was clear, covered by the parking garage to his left. He continued to back-stepp down Shijo, riding the spoke into the center of the city. Trying to draw out this battle between him and the Jaguar commander, trying to keep her talking. Distracted.

In his rearview strip was another orbital road. Technically called Circular Road Number Two, the inhabitants of Schwartzstadt called it Midori, or green, since it bordered a ring of beautiful parks and gardens.

The Ichi turned the corner and tore into Graham’s machine with laser and autocannon. 

“There is another way for honorable foes,” said Showers. She brought her Ichi to a halt. “Individual combat.”

Graham blinked. “You mean—You mean that we fight—and whoever wins captures the planet?”

“And all remaining military forces. It would eliminate any further collateral damage. And it would be a true warrior’s test.”

All remaining military forces. Graham’s mind raced. He glanced down at his wireframe schematic. His armor was in shreds. He had hurt Showers’ Ichi, but not nearly as badly as she had hurt him. There was no way he could stand up to her. But he wasn’t really fighting for the planet anymore.

Schwartz was already lost.

He was fighting for something else.

He took a single step forward and bobbed his Katana’s torso in a stiff bow. “Hai. I accept your offer.”

Thilla Showers stalked him among bramble and branch, following him through the beautiful forest of pines and firs that made up the parks that bordered Midori. From the very beginning, there was no doubt who would win this final battle.

Only how long how it would take.

Graham took a wrong turn and found himself facing the Ichi’s deadly weapons, his armor reduced to reds and blacks. 

“It is good to see you Spheroids can be honorable,” said Showers, “I was beginning to think—”

Her words were cut off by a bone-crushing roar. A Union launched itself into the blue sky. Followed by a Leopard. And an Overlord. Escorted by a cloud of fighters, the Shilones and Lightnings that Graham had not spent opposing the Jaguar landing.

“W-what is that?” Showers stammered.

“It is the Ninth Pesht,” said Graham. “Retreating. For the last few hours you have been chasing a skeleton force through the city. Most of my forces were loading for lift. The Pride of Pesht will live to fight another day.”

“You agreed to surrender the forces remaining on the planet,” Showers snarled.

“And I will,” agreed Graham. “When you beat me, then I will surrender the forces remaining on the planet.”

Thilla Showers howled in rage. 

And Graham knew it didn’t matter if she beat him, if she killed him. He had still won here. The Jaguars were strong, but they couldn’t match Combine cunning.

If they wished to fight in the Inner Sphere, they would have to learn to play a new game.

MORE BATTLETECH FICTION BY STEVEN MOHAN, JR.

If you enjoyed this BattleTech short story, you can find other stories by Steven Mohan, Jr. in the following books:

BATTLETECH: A BONFIRE OF WORLDS

THE UNIVERSE TREMBLES...

For more than a year ComStar, the controllers of interstellar communications, has held the genius Tucker Harwell captive. They want him to solve the riddle of why, five years earlier, did eighty percent of the Inner Sphere’s faster-than-light communications go dark. Yet he is far from the powerless scientist his captors believe him to be and he is starting to ferret out the secrets of not just what happened…but who.

Meanwhile, Khan Malvina Hazen is solidifying her hold on a purified Clan Jade Falcon, following the war for control of the Clan. And her raptor’s gaze is hunting for the next enemy that will feel the talons of her brutal Mongol Doctrine. Hundreds of light-years rimward of Jade Falcon-controlled space, Clan Wolf is carving out territory along the Lyran Commonwealth/Free Worlds League border…and Alaric Wolf is primed to make his own moves in the halls of power.

Threads, years in the making, are beginning to weave a skein across hundreds of star systems, and secrets buried for decades will be revealed while an empire dies…

BATTLETECH: ISLE OF THE BLESSED

The Federated Suns have long been held as the pinnacle of military professionalism and skill in the Inner Sphere, a reputation earned across centuries of combat on hundreds of worlds. But when the Word of Blake launches their Jihad and attacks the Suns capital world, New Avalon, even that reputation will be put to the test.

Marshal of the Armies Jackson Davion is the heir to a centuries-old tradition of martial excellence, but even he may not be enough to stem the tide of invasion.

Precentor Geoffrey Zucker is an idealist of the Word of Blake, a man who fights not for flag but for ideas. Forced to attack his homeworld, he chafes at the conflict between duty and family.

Avitue is one of the Word of Blake elite, a Manei Domini—a hand of the Master. Blessed by the Word of Blake’s leaders, imbued with cybernetic enhancements, and driven by a fanatical zeal to succeed, she will go to any length to capture New Avalon.

Among such icons, can the everyday soldiers and citizens of New Avalon survive?

This edition includes the entire novel originally published serially on the BattleCorps fiction website, as well as companion in-character journal entries, and a new foreword from the author.

BATTLETECH: THE CORPS (BATTLECORPS ANTHOLOGY VOLUME 1)

This volume features the short story “Eight Nine Three,” about a Draconis Combine undercover operative playing a dangerous game against both the Lyrans and his own people to do what he must to protect the Dragon.

BATTLETECH: FIRST STRIKE (BATTLECORPS ANTHOLOGY VOLUME 2)

This volume features four stories by Steven Mohan: “Broken Blade,” tells a desperate game of cat-and-mouse between the remains of a Lyran Commonwealth force defending one of their manufacturing planets, and the equally-battered invading Draconis Combine ’Mechs that have come to destroy their manufacturing facility objective; “Red Khopesh,” in which a mysterious man agrees to hire mercenaries on a Periphery world plagued by pirates—but who’s playing who? And finally, the two-part “Of War and Peace and Cherry Trees,” a complex story of duty and honor, and also the additional story featuring Shintaro Yamada, “Fall of the Blossom,” in which he discovers his true purpose.

BATTLETECH: WEAPONS FREE (BATTLECORPS ANTHOLOGY VOLUME 3)

This volume features “The Bitter Taste of Hope,” a sequel to “Red Khopesh” in which Mark Castor and Tracy Malfont are working together to make Castor’s desire for vengeance against the Clans a reality, but first, they need working capital, so it’s off to rob a pirate bazaar. But with Castor, nothing is as it seems, and this mission is no different.

BATTLETECH: FIRE FOR EFFECT (BATTLECORPS ANTHOLOGY VOLUME 4)

This volume contains two stories by Steven Mohan; the first set during Operation Case White, the Com Star invasion of Terra to defeat the Word of Blake. “The Breaking of Chemical Bonds” reveals that under stress, what can look like fear of failing in one’s duty can actually be a different kind of fear of failure altogether. The second, “An Emissary of Heaven” turns a citizen into a warrior—by sacrificing another—during a Draconis Combine invasion of the Federated Suns.

BATTLETECH: COUNTERATTACK (BATTLECORPS ANTHOLOGY VOLUME 5)

This volume contains the story “Blue Waters,” an unusual look at naval combat versus ’Mechs and other craft when a colonel must defend an archaeological dig from invaders that appear to be pirates, but may be the latest scourge to sweep the Inner Sphere.

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NOVELS

Decision at Thunder Rift by William H. Keith Jr.

Mercenary's Star by William H. Keith Jr.

The Price of Glory by William H. Keith, Jr.

Warrior: En Garde by Michael A. Stackpole

Warrior: Riposte by Michael A. Stackpole

Warrior: Coupé by Michael A. Stackpole

Wolves on the Border by Robert N. Charrette

Heir to the Dragon by Robert N. Charrette

Lethal Heritage (The Blood of Kerensky, Volume 1) by Michael A. Stackpole

Blood Legacy (The Blood of Kerensky, Volume 2) by Michael A. Stackpole

Lost Destiny (The Blood of Kerensky, Volume 3) by Michael A. Stackpole

Way of the Clans (Legend of the Jade Phoenix, Volume 1) by Robert Thurston

Bloodname (Legend of the Jade Phoenix, Volume 2) by Robert Thurston

Falcon Guard (Legend of the Jade Phoenix, Volume 3) by Robert Thurston

Wolf Pack by Robert N. Charrette

Main Event by James D. Long

Natural Selection by Michael A. Stackpole

Assumption of Risk by Michael A. Stackpole

Blood of Heroes by Andrew Keith

Close Quarters by Victor Milán

Far Country by Peter L. Rice

D.R.T. by James D. Long

Tactics of Duty by William H. Keith

Bred for War by Michael A. Stackpole

I Am Jade Falcon by Robert Thurston

Highlander Gambit by Blaine Lee Pardoe

Hearts of Chaos by Victor Milán

Operation Excalibur by William H. Keith

Malicious Intent by Michael A. Stackpole

Black Dragon by Victor Milán

Impetus of War by Blaine Lee Pardoe

Double-Blind by Loren L. Coleman

Binding Force by Loren L. Coleman

Exodus Road (Twilight of the Clans, Volume 1) by Blaine Lee Pardoe

Grave Covenant ((Twilight of the Clans, Volume 2) by Michael A. Stackpole

The Hunters (Twilight of the Clans, Volume 3) by Thomas S. Gressman

Freebirth (Twilight of the Clans, Volume 4) by Robert Thurston

Sword and Fire (Twilight of the Clans, Volume 5) by Thomas S. Gressman

Shadows of War (Twilight of the Clans, Volume 6) by Thomas S. Gressman

Prince of Havoc (Twilight of the Clans, Volume 7) by Michael A. Stackpole

Falcon Rising (Twilight of the Clans, Volume 8) by Robert Thurston

Threads of Ambition (The Capellan Solution, Book 1) by Loren L. Coleman

The Killing Fields (The Capellan Solution, Book 2) by Loren L. Coleman

Dagger Point by Thomas S. Gressman

Ghost of Winter by Stephen Kenson

Roar of Honor by Blaine Lee Pardoe

By Blood Betrayed by Blaine Lee Pardoe and Mel Odom

Illusions of Victory by Loren L. Coleman

Flashpoint by Loren L. Coleman

Measure of a Hero by Blaine Lee Pardoe

Path of Glory by Randall N. Bills

Test of Vengeance by Bryan Nystul

Patriots and Tyrants by Loren L. Coleman

Call of Duty by Blaine Lee Pardoe

Initiation to War by Robert N. Charrette

The Dying Time by Thomas S. Gressman

Storms of Fate by Loren L. Coleman

Imminent Crisis by Randall N. Bills

Operation Audacity by Blaine Lee Pardoe

Endgame by Loren L. Coleman

A Bonfire of Worlds by Steven Mohan, Jr.

Embers of War by Jason Schmetzer

Betrayal of Ideals by Blaine Lee Pardoe

Forever Faithful by Blaine Lee Pardoe

Redemption Rift by Jason Schmetzer

YOUNG ADULT NOVELS

The Nellus Academy Incident by Jennifer Brozek

Rogue Academy: Iron Dawn by Jennifer Brozek

NOVELLAS/SHORT NOVELS

A Splinter of Hope by Philip A. Lee

The Anvil by Blaine Lee Pardoe

Not the Way the Smart Money Bets (Kell Hounds Ascendant 1) by Michael A. Stackpole

A Tiny Spot of Rebellion (Kell Hounds Ascendant 2) by Michael A. Stackpole

A Clever Bit of Fiction (Kell Hounds Ascendant 3) by Michael A. Stackpole

ANTHOLOGIES

Shrapnel: Fragments from the Inner Sphere

Onslaught: Tales from the Clan Invasion!

The Corps (BattleCorps Anthology, Volume 1)

First Strike (BattleCorps Anthology, Volume 2)

Weapons Free (BattleCorps Anthology, Volume 3)

Fire for Effect (BattleCorps Anthology, Volume 4)

Counterattack (BattleCorps Anthology, Volume 5)

Front Lines (BattleCorps Anthology Volume 6)

BattleTech: Legacy

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BATTLETECH: A NEW GAME

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Design by Matt Heerdt and David Kerber

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