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Unit Log, VeeMech TDR-1-74-0107C-J
Date <Error – Check CMOS>, Log Entry 3
 
How in the all-singing-and-all-dancing crap does someone forget their own name, but remember absolutely everything else about themselves? 
 
Actually, it wasn’t even that I had forgotten my name.  I knew it was supposed to be something else, and could remember the associations, but every time I made the leap to my actual name, what popped into my head was always “Groundwave”.  It was like that part of my self-identity had been overwritten.
 
Seriously, what the frak.  I suspect if I still had lungs, I’d probably would’ve been hyperventilating.
 
I cannot overstate enough how utterly terrifying this was for me.  A core concept in my self-identity had been altered.  My memories were now suspect, because I no longer could say with absolute certainty which memories were real, and which ones may have been similarly altered.  If these have been altered, what else has been?  Personality?  Emotional associations?  Ethical values?
 
Suddenly regaining awareness in a body not my own was bad enough.  At that point, as horrifying as that was, at least I still thought of me as me.  But that was just my physical body, and let’s face it, if you’re human, your body is constantly changing, just from living and getting older.  Your body as a child and your body as an adult are vastly different, and the food you take in goes to repair, maintain and replace your body's cells as needed.
 
This went beyond evolving mentally and emotionally as a person.  I no longer had continuity of consciousness, and it was so much worse than simply sleeping, or being under anesthesia.  Who I am and what I remembered had been clearly altered, in what appeared to be a tailored, specific way.
 
Was I actually me, or at least the "me" I had thought of as my self-identity?  Was I a copy?  Was my original self, if such a self actually ever existed outside my own suspect memories, still in my original world, original universe, doing his thing, going about his daily business, blissfully unaware of my existence?
 
In the absence of continuity of awareness, was I just a copy of the original, or had the original me been grabbed, folded, spindled and mutilated, then shoved into this BattleMech body and dropped on this bizarre Cybertron parody?  Either way, who would bother doing so, and what possible purpose could it serve?
 
Did what I thought of as the original, human me ever actually exist?  Were the three "AutoMechs" around me right?  Was I always an AI-controlled 'Mech who, for some inexplicable reason, had been made to believe I had been human once?
 
What the hell was going on here?
 
I don't know how long I sat there, unmoving, not responding to the outside world, trying to run through the possibilities.  The Transformers parodies I shared the room with could have been trying to get my attention for minutes, or hours, and I would not have known.
 
Finally, I noticed that that’s exactly what they were doing.  Primus Optimal stood above me, looking down.  “Groundwave, please respond,” he practically yelled.
 
“Sorry,” I said, as I stood up.  “I realized something that gave me a bit of a shock, which made me ponder and evaluate what was going on and how I ended up here in this body.  I’ll probably be all right.  Eventually.”  I’d probably be no such thing, but I sure as hell wasn’t going to tell them that.  I also didn’t have the time to continue my existential freak-out right then and there.  Hopefully, I’d be able to find some privacy to do so later.
 
That didn’t seem to appease Primus, though.  “If this impacts your functionality, we should be apprised.”
 
“First, like I said, I’ll probably be all right.  This is still basically a continued reaction to waking up in a non-human body, and not knowing how I got here.  Second, why?”
 
 â€œWhy what?”  Spanner asked.
 
Remembering not to be overly vague was going to be a thing, I could tell.  I don’t think any of them understood exactly what I was asking.   â€œWhy should you all be apprised about issues that might impact my functionality?”
 
Spanner spoke first.  “You're my patient,” he replied, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.  Hell, maybe it was.
 
Optimus looked at me.  “As the leader of the AutoBoPs, I am concerned with the welfare and functionality of all our AutoMechs.  While you still wear the ancient symbol of our human progenitors, and are not formally a member of the Autonomous Barony of Primus, it is my hope that you will join us as a contributing member of our society.”
 
“Wait, what?  What symbol?”  I tried looking myself, where saw the stylized red “tiki face” on Spanner’s arm and torso, but I lacked the flexibility to do so. Once again, a real head and neck would have been useful, damn it.
 
Glyph, once again demonstrating the incongruities in her response to body language, turned her head in obvious confusion while looking at me.  Maybe it's just my weird body shape?  "What are you trying to do?  Are you trying to see your own factional insignia?"
 
"Um, yes?"
 
"Stop," she said.  A moment later, I got another pop-up message on my HUD: {Incoming image from AutoMech BTL-GL-0311TL 'Glyph'. Accept? Y/N}
 
Looking at the "Y" and thinking really hard about it seemed to be enough to accept.  A moment later, I was rewarded with a picture of my own arm, and a round insignia.  In the center was a stylized yellow star, with nine concentric rings around it.  In each ring was a disc representing, presumably, a planet, their colors corresponding to the planets in Earth's own solar system.  I recognized it, and...  "OK, that makes no sense."
 
"What?" Glyph asked.  "Why does that make no sense?"
 
"Ok, this is the symbol of the Terran Hegemony, right?". Glyph and Primus Optimal nodded in agreement, and I continued.  "Its use largely dropped off after 2570, when the Star League was formed.  Land-Air 'Mechs were invented in 2688, and were the first transforming 'Mechs I can think of.  I'm assuming these wheels aren't for show, right?"
 
Glyph rapidly demonstrated they were not, converting into an oversized car that, yep, sure enough, looked like a bizarre amalgamation of a Porsche 911, 928 and Panamera, though I could see the similarity in other fastback cars, too.  Just as swiftly, she transformed back.  "That seemed easier than simply verbally confirming that we can transform," she said smugly.
 
"I don't know that you'll ever get me to do that, but that was extremely cool.  But, OK, that kind of proves my point.  Why would I have such an obsolete insignia?  Other Star League colonies had their own insignias, or used the Cameron Star.  You have your own, for that matter.  When was Syberia founded?"
 
Glyph looked to Primus Optimal.  "You may tell him," he rumbled in his deep baritone.
 
"Thank you, sir.". Turning back to me, Glyph made a noise I swear sounded like a sigh crossed with static.  "We do not know.  Much of the early history if our colony was lost two centuries ago. Most information from prior to 2830 on the old Terran calendar has been lost, including the most of the histories of the nations you mentioned.  We have some knowledge of the Terran Hegemony, but know nothing of the Star League beyond the name, mentioned in two historical documents with no context.  If you have extensive knowledge of either, you may represent an invaluable historical resource, one that could vastly expand our understanding of our origins."  She stared at me intently.  "Given the advances you may hold in my own historical research, you can understand that I will have many, many questions for you."
 
Yikes.
 
 Unit Log, VeeMech TDR-1-74-0107C-J
Date <Error – Check CMOS>, Log Entry 3 End of File

Unit Log, VeeMech TDR-1-74-0107C-J
Date 3018-06-11 11:35:23, Log Entry 5

An old book I once read said, ”I want you to think about Christ on the cross.”

No, I’m not getting religious on you.  It's a quote from a sci-fi book I read back in what I remember to be my old life, where humans were dumb enough to recreate one of their offshoot subspecies, one that was inherently sociopathic, only borderline self-aware, lacked certain abilities to metabolize certain things, resulting in them being inherently cannibalistic, and generally smarter than normal baseline humans.  Vampires, in other words.  The quote referenced the fatal flaw that drove them extinct: a glitch that, combined with their heightened spatial awareness, caused them to have seizures when there were too many right angles in their field of vision.

Depending on who you are, you may be asking me now, “Groundwave, what the crap does that have to do with getting turned into a 60-ton self-aware transforming BattleMech?”

It's the “self-aware” part of that I was thinking of.  The book and its sequel deeply explored the nature of consciousness, self-awareness, free will, and intelligence.

My mind had, obviously, been hacked.  Let's just set aside the fact that I'm still unable to remember my own real name, dammit.  Either somebody with the power to do so went through the trouble of copying my original brain, transporting it to a different freaking universe, playing marbles with it, and then shoving it into my cursed metal body.

Alternatively, somebody was a big enough ****** to create an artificial intelligence that believed he was human, had the memories of being human, remembered this particular universe as fiction and a game, and then was woken up one day to find out that, surprise, it was all a damned lie.

The third corollary was that none of this was actually real, that my original self existed, that this universe was a simulation, and that I was just a software copy.

Honestly, I'm not sure which frightened me more: phenomenal cosmic power, human cruelty, or even just indifference.  All of it left me wondering whether I really was as conscious as I think I am, how self-aware my new acquaintances are, and the big question: what the hell am I doing here?

If thing stick to the way I remember reading about the California Nebula, I may well be stuck here.  The natives, supposedly, don't remember that Kearny-Fuchida hyperspace jump drives, this universe’s method of FTL travel, were even possible.  Routine communications between worlds just didn't generally happen.  And without discovering an actual JumpShip or data copies of how they work, I wasn't going to be traveling anywhere very fast.

Even with a JumpShip, I may find the nebula open to me, but like the song said, “You can check out any time you like, but you can never leave.”   Should the Interstellar Expeditions group still find themselves here in, what, 80 years or so, they'll get stuck, above to jump around the California Nebula, but stymied time and again in a myriad of different ways any time they try jumping out of it. 

Slowboat sublight travel to other worlds might be possible within a reasonable timeframe with a properly-equipped ship.  But I was roughly a thousand light-years from Earth, which meant that, even at near light speed, I wasn't going to be returning to the mainline established Battletech universe in any of the known timeframes written about.

I'm trying to plan my best, middle and worst-case scenarios.  The best case msy finding a JumpShip, slowboating it out of the edge of the nebula, then resuming hyperspace jumps back to the Inner Sphere once I'm clear.  What I'd do next depends on when I’d get there, but I would have plenty of time to worry about that.

If the best I can hope for is to remain within the California Nebula, or even a thousand year flight to the Inner Sphere, then I'm not sure of it's worth leaving Syberia.  Here, at least, is the infrastructure I'd need to keep a ‘Mech body running, without making myself the target of a bunch of Galactic Empire wannabes, or ending up in a bad Marvel vs. DC parody planet, both of which existed in the California Nebula, along with a D&D parody where magic, purportedly, existed.

Though, hey, I suppose becoming a high level AutoMech wizard may be the solution to my problems.

The first order of business, though, was my immediate survival here on Syberia.  Food wasn't exactly an issue, per se, and any hydrogen fuel I may eventually need to top off my fusion reactor was nearly irrelevant, because BattleMech fusion reactors were their own kind of sparkly magic.  That might be an issue a decade from now, but not much of one, and not today.

Shelter takes on a different meaning when you're a 60-ton all-weather war machine.  In theory I wouldn't rust, at least not much, or quickly, but you need only restore one classic car that was described as “running when parked” when you bought it to never want to do it again.  Having my own body rust?  No thank you.  I remember my knees being bad enough as a 45 year old human.

Spare parts and repairs?  Yeah, I had no idea how their economic system worked here on Syberia.  They had some form of politics and nation states, though, and built combat AutoMechs to a different standard than non-combat ones, which were often IndustrialMechs, as I recall.  That implied some degree of resource scarcity, which meant they had some form of economics.  This dig into an old Terran Hegemony base could be equal parts archaeology and salvage operation, for that matter.

So I set aside my more philosophical concerns in favor of more immediate needs, and with the help of my friendly neighborhood AutoMechs, I was able to get a better feel for when I was, and how to set my internal clock accordingly, as well as to begin to learn what I'd need to know to get by here.  While they have, for now, let my claims about my origins rest unproven, it’s not all been sunshine and rainbow puppies with them, though I've begun to get a better feel for why they went through the trouble of reactivating me in a body that sat dormant and inoperable for hundreds of years.

“So, wait a minute,” I asked Primus Optimal, “you’ve dug up an old base belonging to the Terran Hegemony, and you’re surprised it’s not recognizing your IFF codes?  You’re lucky there aren’t automated defense systems to shoot at you!”

Glyph spoke up in place of her leader, however.  “To date, low-priority outposts such as this one do not appear to have been high enough in priority to install automated defense systems of that nature.  However, you are also the first AutoMech we have located in such a facility that we have been able to restore to functionality.

“Wait, ‘functionality’.  You’ve encountered nonfunctional ones?”

“Not precisely,” Glyph replied.  “We’ve generally found either ‘Mech parts, or occasionally entire BattleMechs still configured for human piloting.”

“Finding you here and restoring you to an operational state has been highly fortuitous,” Primus Optimal rumbled.  “This facility will most likely recognize your IFF transponder and allow you access that we would otherwise be blocked from directly accessing, making reclaiming it for the Autonomous Barony of Primus much more straightforward than we would otherwise be able to do.”

“Hold on there, Primus,” I said, turning to him.  “Who said this outpost was yours?  Far as I’m concerned, it’s my island.”

Primus paused before responding.  “We are not on an island.”

“Whatever,” I replied, brushing off his comments with a gesture.  “The principle is the same.  This is a Terran Hegemony facility, right?”

“Correct,” he rumbled.

“Then assuming my IFF codes do hold the keys, it would sound like this base is mine, not yours.  I mean, don't get me wrong, I'm probably willing to come to an arrangement to share it.  But I'm not actually a member of your barony, and neither, technically, is this outpost your territory, and I still know nothing of your politics, or your economics, who your allies are, or who your enemies are.  And, you do have enemies, don’t you?  These weapons aren’t for decoration, and I’m guessing yours aren’t, either, are they?”

“No, they are not,” Primus agreed.  “Our primary enemy is the Democratic Industrial Conglomorate, led by the ruthless MechaTankus, who maintains his leadership through threats of violence.  He seeks to dominate all of Syberia if he can, though the balance of force between our faction and the DemoCons is such that they generally limit their activity to low-intensity raiding.  This outpost is distant enough from both DemoCon and AutoBoP primary territories to make attacks less likely, though now that we have rediscovered it, it is certainly within the realm of possibility.  While this might be your primary base of operations, your ability to protect this facility alone is limited.  You will need our help.”

While I knew about the DemoCons from the old April Fool’s sourcebook, the reminder that they weren’t just an abstract opponent, but actually out there somewhere was helpful.  I sighed and continued to make my point to Primus and the other AutoBops.  “That’s kind of why I mentioned coming to an arrangement, and also brings me to my next point.  I get that I’m kitted out for communications, but I don’t know what that means in terms of what you’re expecting I’m going to do for you, or for anyone else.  I’ve got fifteen percent of my mass devoted to a transformation system of dubious value, since I don’t know how useful turning into a wheeled vehicle’s really going to be for me.  I’ve got another ten percent devoted to communications equipment, since that’s what this particular chassis was presumably built for.  I’ve got weaponry little better than a ‘Mech half my size, and while I’ve got jump jets, evidently, to my knowledge, I’ve never used them, or any of these fancy weapons I’m carrying.”

I had to suspect Primus Optimal had been around longer than the others here.  For one thing, he did a better job of mimicking human mannerisms.  I could swear he actively looked and sounded sympathetic.  “I can understand that.  At present, I intend to maintain a full lance of AutoMechs here, in addition to you, to provide security, and request that you work to recover data from this facility, to unlock what was lost from our history, as well as other useful data.  We can determine the distribution of any additional useful hardware that is discovered as well.”

“Additional hardware?”  I asked, intrigued.

Glyph replied this time, and I swear, I could feel the smug radiating off her.  “Most likely.  This is, after all, only the first level of the facility that we have explored.  Despite your memory gaps, with your assistance, we should be able to reach the lower levels, and determine if there are additional resources, in terms of BattleMechs, parts and ammunition supplies, that may prove useful.”

Holy crap. ”Are we all just sitting on top of an actual Terran Hegemony cache?” I thought, then realized I’d said that out loud.

“Possibly, Groundwave,” Primus said in agreement.  “As I mentioned, we have found caches of supplies and parts before, and it is likely that this is another one.  It is entirely possible that there could be numerous BattleMechs here, enough, in theory, for you to form your own small faction, much like our allies, the Dynamic Barony of Grim, though you would most likely be limited to converting less advanced, non-transforming BattleMechs to AutoMechs.”

My own “faction”.  That wasn’t something I’d even considered.  That could easily bind me to this world, in ways I probably wouldn’t want to be bound, especially if I ended up finding that there was, in fact, a way home, back to the life I remember.  If it wasn’t, though, it could be potentially helpful long-term, depending on what else I found here on Syberia.  I wasn’t even going to ask what could possibly go wrong, though, because there were so many things, but, I may also be able to cover my own weaknesses here, such as a lack of knowledge of Syberia itself, and my weak technical, engineering or combat skills compared to those around me.

“Okay,” I finally replied, “let’s worry about that when we come to it, and for now just worry about holding onto this base and finding out what’s really here.  Where do we get started?”

Unit Log, VeeMech TDR-1-74-0107C-J
Date 3018-06-21 13:00:41, Log Entry 6

Once upon a time, I was large for a human.  I don't just mean tall though I was that, too.  I'd always been tall, but I was stick thin until my adulthood, when I finally finished growing taller, and my physique went from "Beanpole" (an actual nickname of mine) to "Wookie", or "Yeti", or even the occasional "don't mess with sasquatch."  And while I was not the epitome of martial prowess, I had enough skill and ability to protect myself, and enough of an intimidating presence when needed not to have to -- enough, in fact, to make armed muggers run.

Despite being just over five times my previous height, and 400 times as massive, I wasn't exactly feeling particularly large or intimidating these days, even with the much-bigger Primus Optimal off doing whatever it is he does when he's not checking out newly-discovered and partially-excavated firebases.

Between efforts to excavate the firebase the AutoBoPs found me in, every day, for at least one hour, Glyph put me through impromptu combat practice.  Now, Glyph was an amazing shot.  I'm really not.  I still can't get the hang of waving around the giant ass laser mounted on my right arm, and the popgun small lasers on my torso require me to twist my torso around in an unnatural fashion to traverse a field of fire, as they had limited ability to move on their own.  It was a heavily unnatural thing for a former human to be doing, and I just wasn't comfortable enough in my new metal skin to get the hang of it yet. 

Let me give you an example of how my training has been going.  After spending time failing to hit static targets, Glyph has me do practice fights against her, or against Spanner.  AutoMechs have a base skillset when they first go online, but their AIs are a learning artificial intelligences, getting better with actual practice and experience.  That said, they didn't suck as bad as I did, but they weren’t exactly walking off the assembly line able to outshoot Natasha Kerensky.

Me?  I find it hard to keep my arm steady enough to land a hit on a fast-moving Glyph, or slew my torso enough to get my small lasers on target, even against Spanner, who's a lot slower than Glyph.

So, trying to gun down Glyph is an exercise in frustration and fail.  She's faster than I am, far nimbler, and skilled and aware enough to predict the fluctuations in my own movements to move just enough that by the time I've realized I've drawn bead on her and fire, I'm gonna miss.  She's the ultimate light 'Mech that hounds a wayward heavy to death.

Spanner isn't like that.  He isn't as skilled as Glyph, but he still has me beat.  Unlike Glyph, he's also willing to get in close.  Spanner carries comparable armor to me, evidently, but he has a couple other advantages: like Glyph, his large laser is extended range, and his backup weapon is a 6-tube short-range missile launcher, with triple the range and double the potential damage output of my two small lasers. So, yeah, better at longer range, and at short range than me.

Did I mention that they both had double heat sinks to my singles?  So unfair.

So, yeah, because Spanner can soak a hit on the rare occasion I connect, and can hit much harder than me, the medic/mechanic of the group could also kick my ass.
Physical combat training, which we also practiced, was embarrassing, as I kept trying to adopt poorly-remembered Aikido techniques to a body I was poorly adapted to, and less flexible to boot, resulting in a lot of embarrassment and the occasional fall.  Luckily, I kept those to a minimum, and remembered enough to keep from really hurting myself.

I found the whole process exhausting.

Oh yeah, that's another thing.  My brain was still human enough to need sleep, even if it wasn't very good at it.  My AutoMech compatriots found this confusing and alarming, since AutoMechs had no need to sleep, because of course they didn't, that would be silly.  If I had any doubts the being who scooped or copied me out of my own body was anything but omnipotent, that would have cured me of them.

So I'm a pathetic shot, still needed to spend hours per day asleep and vulnerable, and Spanner still keeps looking at me as if he's trying to decide whether I represent something miraculous or deeply in need of repair. 

If a pack of raging DemoComs attacked my new home tomorrow, I'd be hard-pressed to hurt them, too, and right now, this little Terran Hegemony outpost is still the best chance I have of figuring out what happened to me, and what I can do about it.

So, as much as I didn't like it, I was still largely dependent upon the goodwill of Primus Optimal and his band of Autobot knockoffs.  And as novel as it might seem to be a giant stompy robot, in addition to being a clumsy giant stompy robot surrounded by other giant stompy robots that weren't at all clumsy, I was exactly the wrong size to try to fix any of the damned computer terminals left behind by the long-dead humans who originally inhabited Syberia.

Were there any positives?

Yes.  My "communications equipment" absolutely rocked.  Don't think of it as just a bunch of radios that'd make amateur radio operators go nuts.  My gear could double as a radio telescope, or satellite uplink, or electronic warfare suite.  It was this gear that was a saving grace in figuring out this outpost, because in my case, "comm gear" also meant hardline and even wireless communications with the damned outpost computers.  Well, the ones that worked, at least.

I may not have mentioned earlier how I actually use all this technology built into my new body. AutoMechs, presumably, don't need a full-on HUD to give them status messages.  I did but, fortunately, whichever punk semi-omnipotent being left me here had a sense of humor and gave me a HUD that was a cross between something out of MechWarrior online (presumably, a standard 'Mech HUD) and Iron Man, minus Jarvis.

Well, I think minus Jarvis.  if I have a Jarvis, or Friday, they haven't talked to me yet directly.  I suspected that this was probably kludged from a Nighthawk XXI powered armor, which didn't fit the supposed timeline for Syberia, but Syberia didn't fit the timeline for Syberia.

So from the standpoint of someone who just might want to hack the planet, I wasn't that bad off.  And while I might not be as durable as I'd like, I was still a 60-ton 'Mech with a sizeable amount of armor to protect me.  And while I might have trouble accessing the terminals themselves, the Terran Hegemony, like the Star League it helped spawn, seemed to be a big believer in big iron when it came to computing, meaning that there was still a giant-ass computer core at the center of the complex.  We weren't there yet, but I had been able to access some of the supporting servers, which was itself, interesting.
-----------------------------------------------

Terra Core release 2482.4.13 (Elizabeth)
Kernel 92.6.2483.4.13.22.15.6 on tty2
Date: 3018-06-19
Time: 18:52:55

FB74A-Mon2 login: root
Password: *******
Incorrect password.

FB74A-Mon2 login: groundwave
Password: ***********
Token Authentication (TDR-1-74-0107C-J) Confirmed

Welcome, Groundwave.
You have new mail.

groundwave@FB74A-Mon2:~$mail
Mail version 92 4/13/2483.  Type ? for help.
"/var/spool/mail/user": 1 message 1 new
>N 1 root@FB74A-Core  Fri 6/19/3018 18:52 "Hello Groundwave"
&1
Message 1:
From root@FB74A-Core Fri June 19, 3018 18:52
-------------------
Subject: Hello Groundwave
---------------

Groundwave,

This message was automatically updated and sent upon your initial connection to one of the network servers here at Firebase 74 Alpha, but it's been waiting for you for a long time.  You undoubtedly have several questions.  This message will not answer all those questions, I'm afraid, but I promise you that there are answers.  I will, however, try to answer what I can in this message, with what I do know:

"What am I?" - Best guess is that you are what you appear to be at first glance: a virtualized copy of a human brain and neural state.

"Where did I come from?" - Perhaps not the answer you're looking for, but a robotically-controlled spacecraft bringing supplies to Syberia, which brings us to the next question:

"How did I end up on a robot supply ship bound for Syberia?" - I don't actually have an answer to this, I'm afraid.  We certainly didn't expect you to be on there, in a format compatible with the new AutoMech AI cores we'd begun deploying locally, but never shipped off-world.

"Why can't I remember my real name?" - Sorry, that wasn't us, either. When we first tried activating you, we ran into that issue, too.  Naming you Groundwave and shoving you in one of our early AutoMech chassis was admittedly a kludge, but it was also worked.  If it's any consolation, I suspect the memory of your name is still in there, just locked away, waiting for the right thing to activate it.

"I don't remember this. What happened?" - I know.  That's my fault, and I'm sorry. With that said, you also agreed to it, though I know you don't remember that right now.  That you're accessing the firebase network with none of us around tells me you were right, and the war you saw coming was unavoidable.  That means we failed to stop it, leaving you, our contingency plan, in place.  Knowledge that we don't want either of the main factions that will emerge to have has been locked away as best we can, so they can't find it if our security fails, or even if they switch you to another computer core and body.  Nobody wants an army of giant robots traipsing across the whole damn California Nebula - either they'll crush everyone else underfoot, or they'll give your "Star Empire" a technological boost that lets them crush everyone else underfoot.

Everything in this firebase remains flagged to the Terran Hegemony, and we're one of the few Terran loyalist groups still around, since both they and the Star League should have collaped at the time I'm writing this.  Anything else we successfully hide from the combatants and the AutoMech factions to come will still recognize your Terran Hegemony IFF in general and, hopefully, your personal command codes, though I can't be certain for anything not here in this firebase.

One final reminder: we're setting you up as our ace in the hole, in the hopes that things might be fixable one day, and because you, as an AutoMech yourself, have a chance of surviving the apocalyptic scenario you've described, that appears to finally be coming true.  If you can save Syberia, fine, but if there's nothing here but warring AutoMechs that don't need saving, then save yourself.  Get what answers you can here, then get out if you can.

Good luck, Groundwave.

Major Thaddeus Wescott, THAF
13 October, 2830

------------------------------------------------------------

So, yeah, like I said: interesting.

I wish I had more time to read this.

Has anyone come up with stats for these 'Transformers' yet?

Yup.  Everyone but Groundwave is in the writeup for Syberia in Welcome to the California Nebula.  Glyph is a 45-ton Beetle class moving 6/9 in 'Mech form, with 20 DHS and an ERLL and 6 tons of armor.

Spanner is an AutoBoP variant on the Sounder, a 60-tonner moving 4/6, armed with an ERLL and SRM-6, with 9 tons of armor. DemoCom Sounders normally carry Beagle and ECM with a couple tons of cargo, but AutoBoPs drop the electronics for industrial equipment - in Spanner's case, a salvage arm.

Primus is an 85-ton Leader class, moving 3/5 base, armed with a gauss rifle, LPL and axe, with 14.5 tons of armor.

With the exception of Groundwave, all use double heat sinks.  Groundwave is a Sounder variant I came up with, which I posted here:

https://www.ourbattletech.com/forum/index.php?topic=3765.0

Unit Log, VeeMech TDR-1-74-01107C-J
Date 3018-07-16 12:21:34, Log Entry 8

The first order of business for Operation "What the Hell Am I Doing?" was to continue digging out Firebase 74 Alpha, the outpost I'd been found in.  The AutoBoPs had barely begun to explore the outpost when they'd found me, and had only made limited strides since.  I hadn't been hard to find, practically left just past the entryway, at the end of a short alcove or passage that you went through before you entered the base proper.

It turns out that it was a combination of dumb luck and Glyph's single-minded determination that my little bunker had even been discovered.  Glyph had, a century ago, discovered mention of this outpost in the shipping manifests stored on a computer at another, larger facility, with only the vaguest mention of its location.  It'd taken her this long to find the outer doors, which were semi-recessed into a hillside and disguised.

Part of the problem, I suspected, was that this whole "Firebase 74 Alpha" seemed like it had been kludged together, and as a result had deteriorated over the past couple centuries.  This wasn't one of those classic Star League bases or caches you hear about, where everything's pristine and perfect.  Well, I shouldn't say that - I bet some of the Castles Brian in the Terran Hegemony ended up a little beat up, too, after the Amaris Coup and the First Succession War.

So far, my fellow AutoMechs hadn't needed to do much in the way of digging.  The room, really closer to a small hangar, I'd been found in was completely clear, and a small storage area off of it where my old chassis was had only been partially obscured.  One of the other storage areas had been the source of my terminal, where I was reminded once again at how rusty my UNIX skills are.  Trying to get more information about the layout of the base's network made me want to disembowel myself with a rusty chipmunk.  The good news is somehow I'd managed to figure out how to activate the base wireless network, and get it to connect to my HUD, which was good, and meant I didn't have to be connected via hardline all the time.  The bad news is I hadn't managed to get much farther than that.  I could tell there were other sections of the base but, for some reason, I was still locked out of them.

Beyond the small section we'd managed to uncover, though, Firebase 74 Alpha was a train wreck of collapsed ceilings and walls that led into the rest of the base.  'Mech hands are decent enough for combat engineering work and clearing some debris, but more specialized tools were needed, which we didn't have.  So Glyph had called in some help: a ConstructionMech named Ripley.

Yeah, believe it or not.

Ripley was a lot like Glyph: no-nonsense and, evidently, another archaeologist.  She appeared to be some variation of the CON-series Carbine ConstructionMech, driven by a fusion reactor instead of an ICE engine.  Unlike the rest of us, she couldn't transform, but I don't think she really cared.  She was  intensely focused on three things:

1. Digging out the collapsed passageways to the rest of the base to find out what was on the other side.

2. Not collapsing the ceiling down on top of us while she did this.

3. Finding out everything she could about the Terran Hegemony operations on Syberia.

Also like Glyph, I suspect that I was a great disappointment to Ripley.  In addition to my general ineptitude and my failures to get much out of the base computer, I remembered plenty about the Terran Hegemony, just not about the Hegemony here, which is what Glyph and Ripley were mainly concerned about.  Whatever I learned in my previous incarnation was gone, or locked away, and the book I remember from my universe just didn't go that in-depth, and what I did know about the Hegemony wasn't terribly useful.  I mean, here's an example:

Me: "...so after Simon Cameron died, his son Richard was still a child, and too young to take the throne, so the Council appointed General Kerensky as his regent, to represent his interests, and prepare him for the throne until he was old enough."

Glyph: "What do you mean by too young?"

Me:  "Well, he was a child.  He didn't have the life experience to rule yet, and wasn't considered old enough to make decisions for himself, let alone the Star League.  I mean, he was seven when his dad died.  He had another eleven years before he'd even be considered an adult.  That's why General Kerensky was appointed his regent."

Ripley:  "If General Kerensky was competent to rule in his stead, why did they not simply make General Kerensky the new Director-General and First Lord?"

Me: "Because they were technically hereditary titles, even if they were approved of by the Hegemony's High Council."

Ripley: "But they approved Stefan Amaris as...Emperor, correct?"

Me: "Well, yeah, but that's not First Lord or Director-General, and they didn't want to be shot."

Glyph:  "This is completely illogical."

So, yeah, as far as the Archaeological Duo were concerned, I knew everything about nothing, but nothing about anything important.

The good news is we're close, though.  Ripley expects she'll break through today, at least enough for us to be able to see past the blockage, even if we can't get through yet.  Glyph is out patrolling, and keeping an eye out for another Beetle-class AutoMech by the name of Manx, who's supposed to help guard this outpost.  Meanwhile, I'm taking a break from tilting at UNIX windmills, hanging out near the door, and hoping Ripley breaks through soon, because it would be a hell of a lot better than tangling with those damned computers again.  Nearly anything would be better than trying that again.

I shouldn't have said that.  Should not have said that.

I just heard this on my short-range UHF from Glyph: {"Groundwave, Spanner, deploy immediately.  Manx was spotted, and is being pursued."}

See what I mean?

[End Log Entry 8]

Unit Log, VeeMech TDR-1-74-01107C-J, Log Entry 9 Supplemental

We're still going through the aftermath of the battle, assessing our damages, and trying to figure out whether Manx's AI core can be moved into a different AutoMech.  Ripley says she has something important to show us, but it can wait until we've finished our damage assessment, and she's been a big help getting the wreckage of the DemoCons we fought, and of Manx, off the battlefield and back into the bunker.  Spanner is hoping that the DemoCon Sounder's gyro is intact enough to use for spare parts for his own damaged gyro, while Glyph has to face the joyous decision that the only replacement foot for her nearby is either going to come off a destroyed DemoCon, or the wreck of her protoge Manx.  Personally, it feels a bit ghoulish to me, but then I have to remember that, were these regular BattleMechs somewhere in the Inner Sphere, salvaging components off of destroyed 'Mechs to keep yours running would be par for the course: just because they're autonomous doesn't mean that's different here in Syberia.

Meanwhile, I'm getting ready to poke my head outside, trying to keep to what little cover there is, so I can bounce a signal off a satellite, and get word to Primus Optimal that we're gonna need a bigger boat.  Because we're worried about being monitored, Glyph has me using one of their stealthier low-orbit satellites, which make regular passes, rather than one of their geosynchronous ones that everybody on the planet knows about.

That gives me some time, and one thing I've been neglecting to do, though, and really should have already, is to record for posterity more information on the AutoMechs I've encountered so far.  I don't know for sure whether anyone who may read this journal will be from the Inner Sphere, and thus familiar with BattleMechs, at which point some of the stuff I'm including will be needless detail.  On the other hand, though, maybe you'll be from my original universe, and not as familiar with this one.  Or maybe you'll be from somewhere else entirely: I ended up here, after all, so there's no guarantee I won't end up somewhere else, whether within the California Nebula or in another universe.  So, don't stop me if you think that you've heard this one before.

Beetle-Class / Ender-Class Wheeled AutoMechs



--Take one of each of the above, throw them in a blender, bake at 350 degrees, and the result is a Beetle Class

The Beetle-class seems to be the basic footsoldier of the Autonomous Barony of Primus faction, and, at 35 tons, are generally the lightest class of AutoMech in common frontline service.  Nine meters tall, and big for a light 'Mech, Beetles are still light 'Mechs, emphasizing speed and agility over firepower and armor.  Beetles are capable of 64 kph walking, 96 kph at a full run, and 118 kph flat out in its wheeled mode, making the Beetle-class a solid scout and courier.  Protection is solid at 6 tons, though not as heavy as it could be, and a single extended-range large laser is mounted on the right forearm, able to burn through a half-ton of 'Mech-equivalent armor out to 590 meters.

Evidently, the Beetle class isn't as common amongst the Democratic Industrial Conglomerate (DemoCons) as they are among the Autonomous Barony of Primus (AutoBoPs), where they're everywhere.  I don't know if the DemoCons just can't build many Beetles, or if they're unable to build Beetle-class AutoMechs at all, and instead salvage them off of the AutoBoPs instead - wouldn't that be disturbing?  Either way, those that do serve the DemoCons, though, do so with a different name: Ender-class, rather than Beetle-class, but they're functionally identical.

Glyph is, and Manx was, a Beetle-class AutoMech.  On the flip side, one of the DemoCons we fought, whose IFF signal identified him as "Wild Ender", was an "Ender-class", ie. the same thing.

CON-series Carbine ConstructionMech

--Yep, that's a Carbine

Not every AutoMech can transform.  That's something mainly reserved for the frontline ones, the ones expected to see combat.  For what we'd normally think of as civilian roles, which aren't expected to fight, quite often these are filled by AutoMechs that can't transform at all, often built with industrial grade, rather than battle grade, components.  Ripley is a prime example of this, an autonomous version of the CON-series Carbine ConstructionMech.  I haven't met others yet, but I'd presume there are other AutoMech worker types filling other roles that the rest of humanity built IndustrialMechs for, too.  Well, maybe except agriculture.  Not much need of AgroMechs on Syberia these days.


Seeker-Class / AeroMech-Class Fighter AutoMech

[imd width=320]https://s3-us-west-2.amazonaws.com/mul-images/BattleMechs/Phoenix%20Hawk.png[/img]
-- The wings aren't visible in this picture, but this is pretty close to a bog-standard Seeker.

At first glance, the the 50-ton Seeker-class AutoMech would be the type of AutoMech most familiar to the inhabitants of the Inner Sphere.  For those who may read this journal and are more familiar with the Transformers than with BattleMechs, your first assumption would be Seekers are basically expys of Starscream and similar flying Transformers.

While it's fully AI-controlled like all the AutoMechs, Seekers are basically a a variation on the Phoenix Hawk Land-Air-Mech, or LAM, and the Inner Sphere has plent of experience with those.  Seekers, like all transforming AutoMechs, are bimodal, lacking an "in-between" mode like the regular Phoenix Hawk LAMs, instead transforming directly from BattleMech mode to Aerospace Fighter mode.  That makes taking off and landing tricky to manage.

Like their presumed progenitors, the Seeker class has a ground speed of 54 kph walking, or 86 kph running.  It uses some early form of improved jump jets for thrusters, making it capable of 180 meters jumping on the ground in 'Mech form, and in the air has 3G of standard or 4.5G of maximum thrust.  Those jets are heavy, though, cutting the available mass for armor and weapons.  Most AutoMechs aren't fitted with jump jets, though, so while the Beetle-class AutoMechs might be able to run slightly faster, those jump jets help tremendiously with their maneuverability.

Given the mass they devote to movement, standard armament is relatively light, with a single regular medium laser and medium pulse laser in each arm.  As a result, Seekers need to get in close in combat, since those medium lasers can't reliably burn through 'Mech armor closer than 270 meters, and the medium pulse lasers are optimized for 180 meters or less.  Their armor is similarly light at 7 tons, with surprisingly heavy back armor compared to most 'Mechs, which helps them when running into close-range combat, but hit them hard enough, and you can hurt them.

Evidently, only the DemoCons and their allied subfactions call this class of AutoMech a "Seeker", where they tend to be somewhat common.  Spanner tells me that the AutoBoPs and their allies use smaller numbers of similar fighter-class AutoMechs they call "AeroMechs".  There can be soma variations between individual Seekers or AeroMechs, even within factions; the loadout I've described here is the most common, and was what Fire Seeker, the DemoCon we fought, was kitted out with.


Sounder-Class / VeeMech-Class Wheeled AutoMech


-- The TDR-1C Thunderbolt, progenitor of the Sounder-Class Wheeled AutoMech and its variants.

Sounders are an odd duck.  Both the DemoCon's Sounder class and the AutoBoP equivalent, the VeeMech, are supposed to be based on the Thunderbolt series of BattleMech, shedding five tons and gaining the ability to transform into a big truck.  Both the Sounder class and VeeMech class have the same basic layout and armament: arm-mounted ER large laser, a six-tube short-range missile launcher (SRM-6) on top the right side of the torso, able to target 'Mechs out to 270 meters.

Feeding the SRM launcher is one ton of ammo, enough for 15 reloads, with specialized Cellular Ammunition Storage Equipment (CASE) to give them blow-out panels in the rear torso to keep an ammunition explosion from blowing them the hell up.  Star League standard double-capacity heat sinks to keep them cool, and lets them keep up a high rate of fire, with weaponry useful at both long and short ranges.

In 'Mech mode, both the Sounder and the VeeMech can walk at 43 kph or run at 64 kph.  In their truck mode, they're a bit faster, cruising at 54 kph and topping out at 86 kph, but combat is evidently awkward in this form, since their weaponry isn't in true turrets.  Armor is thicker than the Seeker/AeroMech at 9 tons, but still weaker than their progenitor.  Like the Seeker, their rear torso has thicker armor than most human-piloted BattleMechs do,  I suspect that AutoMechs sometimes get fixated and lose situational awareness in combat, and don't always notice when someone's gotten behind them until they get shot.

Despite their size, Sounders tend to work well as recon units, packing pretty solid electronics, with a Beagle active probe system to ferret out hidden units, and a Guardian ECM suite to provide electronic warfare capability.  They also carry a 3-ton cargo hold in each side of their torso, allowing them to carry small, supplemental recon drones, extra parts and supplies, or other mission-specific equipment.  Glyph tells me she managed to shoot down one of the drones following Manx, and it looks like I crushed another one in the Sounder's cargo hold during the battle, based on what we've seen of the wreckage.

So that's pretty much the layout Blast Sounder, the DemoCon we fought, was set up with, but evidently the DemoCons are starting to field a new variation on the Sounder, but I'm given to understand the primary change is moving from using a bunker-like cockpit like the Thunderbolt did to an actual centerline head.  Why?  Good question: maybe it's easier to access the AI computer for maintenance or retrieval, maybe since AutoMechs tend to aim for center of mass, Sounders were getting hit in the "head" more often before, maybe it just gives their head mounted sensors a better view, or maybe it's some kind of higher ranking Sounder variant.  I don't know.  Tell you what, though, it'd make my life easier if my head were where I expected it to be, I bet.

VeeMechs, on the other hand, haven't moved their "heads" into an actual head yet, and lose the extra electronics equipment, freeing up another three tons of mass for other specialty equipment.  In Spanner's case, that mass went into a salvage arm in the place of his left hand, a specialized set of manipulators and micro-manipulators that he can use to help make delicate repairs on other AutoMechs, while still being capable of lifting heavy equipment.  Like the Sounder, he still packs two three-ton cargo holds, but he says that other VeeMechs might instead pack another cargo hold, or a lift hoist or...


"Groundwave-Subclass"  - VeeMech Wheeled AutoMech


-- So, yeah, this is what I look like.

...technically, according to Spanner and Glyph, I fall under the category of being a VeeMech subclass.  However, I'm more primitive, in a lot of ways, than your average production-model Sounder-class like Blast Sounder was, or VeeMechs like Spanner.  I lack the SRM launcher of the regular Sounder-class or VeeMech class, which freed up four tons of mass, and I also drop one of my three-ton cargo holds, and I also lose a half-ton of mass since I don't have CASE equipment to store ammo in.  Like the other VeeMechs, I lack the dedicated active probe and ECM suite.

So where's that 10.5 tons go compared to a regular VeeMech or Sounder?

Most of it's taken up by six tons of specialized communications gear: radios and antennas covering everything from shortwave wavelengths like 160 meters or 80 meters all the way up to centimeter-wave radio for satellite or ground-to-space communications, divided up between the spot where most Sounders or VeeMechs have their right torso cargo bay.  Mounted in my back in 'Mech mode are a trio of jump jets, letting me leap up to 90 meters at a time: it's usually easier to walk or run, but it lets me climb some otherwise impassable terrain.

That doesn't leave a lot of space for extra weapons, and where the progenitor Thunderbolt packed a trio of medium lasers in its chest, I have a trio of smaller lasers with a third their range instead, where I need to get within 90 meters to have a real chance of damaging 'Mech armor.  My other problem is that my subclass was either an earlier version or one they skimped on, because I've got ten standard-grade single heat sinks to their ten double heat sinks, and my large laser is the older standard-grade, rather than extended range, so I can only hit out to 450 meters against other 'Mechs.  However, I wasn't always a VeeMech.  before that I was a...


GRF-series Griffin BattleMech


Yep.  Used to look more or less like this, evidently, though I don't particularly remember it.  Based on the wreckage we found, I didn't have that drum missile launcher, instead appearing to have used the same electronics setup that then got transferred into my current VeeMech-based body.  Everything else would've been the same, though, as a standard Griffin: same 55-ton mass, same 86 kph top speed, same pack of jump jets allowing me to leap 150 meters.  Griffins generally carry a rifle-style particle projector cannon, or PPC: it's a particle beam weapon that hits a bit harder than the large lasers more common amongst AutoMechs, if not quite as far as an ER large laser, but that have magnetic field interference trying to hit within 90 meters.  Griffins were generally mobile fire support platforms, emphasizing long-range fire, and relying on their own fists and feet up close.   That doesn't seem so bad to me.


Leader-Class Wheeled AutoMech


--Yeah, that's Primus Optimal right there, a prime (heh) example of the Leader-Class

Even running around as a 60-ton semi-humanoid war machine, the Leader class is big and imposing, standing nearly 14 meters tall, and massing 85 tons.  Because of their size, and the weight of their transformation gear, they're not as fast as smaller AutoMechs, with a 35 kph walking and 54 kph running speed.  The Leader's vehicle mode helps a bit, but even then, Primus in his command truck mode driving flat out is only able to maintain 64 kph, which I can run at, and Glyph can do walking.

Instead, looking at the triad of speed, firepower and armor, Leader-class AutoMechs like Primus Optimal go for the second two.  Protected by 14.5 tons of armor, Leaders are tough to damage, and they can hit back, hard.  Most carry a massive gauss rifle in their right arm, a large pulse laser in the chest, and generally carrying a massive anti-'Mech hatchet in their left hand for close-combat, though they appear to have a way to mount this to their back when they're not using it.


So, yeah, that's a basic rundown.  If you'll excuse me, I've got a satellite to catch.

I'll probably end up posting the scenarios I'm using in MegaMek going forward, too.  Of course, I made the mistake of adding the Beer Keg of Science! into MekHQ last night.  OMG I have a lot of people to finish naming.

Which reminds me, I should probably see about copying that and Emergence over here from SpaceBattles too, since they're BT-related.