From CHM173S@vma.smsu.edu (Chris Meadows) Newsgroups: alt.pub.havens-rest Subject: [Oberon, Inc.] A Brief Flashback Date: Mon, 24 May 93 09:54:02 CDT Kevin watched as the last of the purchasers of their mecha line drove out of the showroom, in a hurry to try out their new vehicles. Kevin chuckled at the overeager anticipation evident in the eyes of some--even the most vehicle-jaded individual had to harbor a secret thrill at being allowed to pilot the vehicle that had been for so long the private domain of military forces. Only a few people remained in the showroom now. These were those who had wanted one of the mecha that they had seen in the showroom but had been sold out before they'd gotten a chance to place their orders. They were told that their mecha would be delivered to their places of residence within a few days, but they still waited, milling around, unsure what to do or where to go. Jerry walked back behind the desk/console where Kevin still sat, and sat down beside him. "That went rather well, doncha think?" Kevin nodded. "They look happy," he said. "Yep, and I'm happy too! We've made quite a profit over the last several hours. In fact, I went ahead and ordered another shipment of mecha for the showroom. When word gets around, I wouldn't be surprised if there was a second rush of customers." "Jer, is profiteering all you can think about? I thought the point of this business was to bring a new form of recreation to the consumer." "Oh, yes, yes, of COURSE, Kev. But to do that, we're gonna have to stay in business, know what I'm saying?" Jerry patted Kevin on the back and stood up. "'Scuse me. I'm going to go over there and tell those guys that we've got more merchandise on its way. Oughtta make their days, doncha think?" He vaulted over the desk and ran off toward the remaining cadre of customers. "I don't know about this..." Kevin muttered. "What about when PW finds out? And Jerry's not like he used to be at all..." Kevin reflected on his brother's mixed-up past, and his own which was mixed right in there with it. Jerry Wycoff had been a mechanical genius from the time he was very young. From the time he could first hold a wrench, he had. Held a wrench, that is. And done far more with it than just hold it. He'd worked in their parents' 'speeder service station from a very young age, up 'til the Terra-IV Royal Navy had drafted him into service. As was typical for armed forces bureaucracy, no one had noticed his natural mechanical aptitudes, sticking him instead into a mechanized infantry corps. Jer had worn Vanguard power suits, flown Crusader-class heavy assault mechs, and loved every minute of it. The sheer power, the adrenalin rushthe versatility at HIS hands...it was a very addictive feeling. Then another fortunate happenstance had occurred. Private First Class Jerry Wycoff had been promoted to Lance Corporal and transferred, having proved his worth time and time again in some very sticky operations. The new position Jerry found himself in was an enviable one--head mecha test pilot for the TARN project to develop a second-generation mecha that would eliminate the problems found in the Vanguard and Crusader-class mecha. This was news to Jerry, who hadn't really seen any problems. But he learned about them from his mechanic-friends in the program. The Vanguard was small and maneuverable, but it had a problem. It was rather weak. Some stronger mecha-troopers had taken to removing the hydraulic support systems entirely, saying they just slowed them down. The Crusader, which was much larger, had the problem of being too bulky and slow for anything other than infantry-support. The Terra-IV Royal Navy needed something combining the best qualities of both...and they had some good technicians, too. In time, they probably would have accomplished the task. However, budgetary concerns got to the program, and its purpose was changed from creating new technology for new mechs to simply upgrading the existing designs. All the prototype plans went right out the window. However, Jerry had been learning a great deal about mecha technology, and he'd had some ideas of his own for improving the mecha. However, he didn't volunteer them, for as he'd learned during his stint as a lowly PFC, volunteering information was one of the worst things you could do as a noncom. Instead, Jerry served his 6-year stint and got out, heading back home to the family garage where his younger brother Kevin had been rather successfully racing motorbikes and hoverbikes, earning some good spending money. Jerry continued to develop his mecha technology, in secret. And he came up with some astounding ideas. Because of the extreme efficiency of movement of his design, it was able to change configurations. This was far more than having extreme maneuverability--the mini-mecha could actually change from power armor to assume a vehicular configuration! One night, as Jerry was secretly trying out his Mark I Excalibur, having a wonderful time on the reconfigurable mecha unit, it occurred to him: why not SELL mecha to the general public? They would make great recreational vehicles, after all... Admittedly, the idea of profit was also there, but to hear Jerry tell it, he'd always held the idea of a remarkable new vehicle type, "as great a leap in vehicular evolution as when they introduced the gravcar," in the forefront. Or so he'd said to Kevin. But now Kevin was beginning to suspect that there was something else on Jerry's mind besides just getting this new vehicle to the consumer. Kevin forced himself to recall the rest of what happened, too. How they had nearly been arrested when they'd come to set up their first dealership--a platoon of TARN Vanguard troopers, backed up by several Crusaders, had been waiting for them. Only the extreme maneuverability (not to mention black-market heavy weapons) of the Excalibur prototypes Jerry had made for them enabled them to escape. But they were pursued by military and government agents wherever they went. They only managed to escape by getting off-planet in the old freighter Jerry managed to "liberate" from a stockyard--the freighter later renovated and renamed the FREEBIRD. After that, they'd been chased from planet to planet, setting up for a few months in various places, picking up some dedicated personnel, then having to leave when TARN got too close on their tails. Then Jerry had discovered this place, and they'd come here. Now instead of one of the galaxies' largest militaries to deal with, they just had a bear the size of an old-style Terran pickup truck, bristling with heavy weapons all over its body. With what Kevin had heard about PW, however, he was beginning to wonder if he wouldn't rather take his chances with the military. -- Chris Meadows || NOTICE: I am still away until June 7. CHM173S@SMSVMA.BITNET || I managed to get back up here for a CHM173S@VMA.SMSU.EDU || couple of hours so that I could post CMEADOWS@NYX.CS.DU.EDU || a few things. See ya June 7th!