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Now y'all done reminded me of Boner Wolf.

This was way back on the Spacebattles forum. Space opera/mecha game, political machinations, large-scale starship/mecha battles, psychics and transhumanism, the kitchen sink was just the beginning bro. All that good stuff. So the PCs are the créme de la créme, social and battlefield elites, yadda yadda. They're attending an important state funeral where a dozen plots are afoot and we're all going around hitting up contacts and doing all kinds of secret squirrel stuff.

In comes Boner Wolf. Not his real name, but you can guess. He's an eight foot tall lupine. Okay cool, this is a transhuman setting, we have all sorts and nobody bats an eye. Some are sculpts and some are uplifts and some are outright other species. All good.

But hey, in a setting like this everyone is hot, right? So he immediately pops a massive, visible boner (yes, the player explicitly described the bulge) and starts trying to mack on - just everyone. Including the grieving widow and her daughter.

The big thing is that this is cringe not just OOC but also IC. I mean, you're at a high society soirée. Doesn't mean you can't be on the lookout for a liaison dangereuse but hey, the currency of the land is discretion and subtlety. Keep it classy, y'know? But nope, BW just waltzes up to the laydees expecting his bulge to do the talking.

The GM had to talk several players out of having their characters drag him out the back and shoot him.
Sharlin Vande Tanne


Sharlin sat in the Phantom's cockpit listening to Lucia's briefing - silently, intently. A frown flickered across her brow at their orders. Too vague, too much left to discretion. She was well aware that Lancers made their own decisions in battle, didn't need to be micromanaged - but still, one could err too far in that direction. A little coordination might do a world of good.

She knew her own role, anyway. The Phantom wasn't built to charge into the fray. There were others who could do that job far better. Baron Wilhelm, for example - he'd be champing at the bit to prove himself still capable. Or Marcellus, who'd do whatever he was told. A useful tool. Even the Prince's pet, Dvalin, in her souped-up Leonard... if she could keep her thirst for glory in check.

Sharlin had studied their personnel files as assiduously as she would those of any foe. Imperial Intelligence kept highly comprehensive records of all Lancers, and particularly those who operated close to power. Prince Cassian, for all he might seek to avoid its responsibilities, was a nexus of power. One who must not be threatened, or coerced, or manipulated to the detriment of the Empire. Imperial Intelligence, of course, held itself scrupulously neutral in the power struggles around the Court and the Throne. Its final loyalty lay in the Empire itself, rather than anyone within its Byzantine hierarchy.

They were something of a motley assortment, as Lances are wont to be. Yet even so, their ACs were a force to be reckoned with - and if wielded wisely, more than enough to deal with what they faced here.

Sharlin held out a hand wordlessly, and her ever-efficient crew chief Gunpreet - a stocky, dusky-skinned native of the Kytherea system - placed her helmet in it.

"All systems green, mum," Gunpreet murmured. "Loadout?"

Sharlin pulled the helmet on, wrinkling her nose at the blast of pressurised oxygen as it sealed shut and mated with her flight suit's life support system. "All range direct fire," she replied. "Beam gun, gauss carbine, sabre." That would cover the three major range bands, albeit at the cost of indirect fire and anti-ship capability. But again, the Lance had others for such tasks.

"Aye aye, mum," came the reply, shockingly loud in Sharlin's ear now that they had switched to intercom. The senior non-com's fingers danced over a datapad. "Initiating loading now. Ready for launch in seven minutes thirty seconds... mark."

Sharlin nodded. The two of them had an understanding. Pleasantries were superfluous, the single mumbled honorific their only concession to propriety. They'd dispense with it too if that wouldn't set a bad example for the enlisted personnel. It still served a function - discipline, hierarchy - so it stayed.

Sharlin ran her fingers over the Phantom's controls, running through her preflight checklist as she toggled her comms over to all-Lance.

"Vande Tanne," she said curtly. "Phantom will echelon forward to maintain sensor coverage over the area of operations and designate targets for indirect fire."
<Snipped quote by Kensai>

I keep meaning to check out some of the Battletech books, myself. So far my lore knowledge just comes from a couple innocent dives into YouTube.


I got back into playing last year, but my history with BTech goes back three decades. I've got my kids playing it now.
Com-Star? We got another BattleTech player here?
Interested!
Interested!
@Kensai

Fair enough, was just kind of awkward reading it on review this morning like "ohhhh shit, I hope they didn't think I was ripping them off"

Eh, no worries. I also just noticed "Sharlin" - "Svalin" but I don't think it matters enough to ask you to change it.
@Psyker Landshark

That's an interesting point - I think that while the two characters are mechanically somewhat similar, their personalities and motivations are sufficiently distinct that it won't be too much of a problem in play. Aria is aggressive and motivated by personal drives, whereas Sharlin is a lot cooler and more professional. And where the Armatus and Phantom are both glass cannons, the Armatus is an interceptor type that relies on mobility while the Phantom is primarily a stealth reconnaissance and EW platform. So we aren't overlapping that much.

Luckily I changed Sharlin's hair colour from silver to brunette though. That would really have been too on the nose... or just an indicator that Prince Cassian really has a "type".
Added my CS, with a few small edits and cleanup of faulty code.

I'm really appreciating that we have four quite different characters so far, that variety will make things interesting.
Name: Sharlin Vande Tanne
Age: "Do I look like a bottle of wine? Why would you need to know my vintage then?"
Archetype: Operative
Gender: Female
Appearance: Sharlin is a generally nondescript woman of middling age, height, and build, or at least she appears to be - she can adapt her appearance to a startling degree, from utter mousiness to stunning beauty. Her most distinctive features are her pale blue eyes (and she's perfectly capable of changing their colour).


Occupation: Lancer/Operative
Affiliations: Imperial Intelligence
Skills and Abilities:
Social chameleon - Sharlin can fit into any social environment, from an audience with the Emperor to drinking with slum dwellers. Regardless of the situation, she will figure out how to behave to keep those around her at ease and unsuspecting of her origins.

Wetworker - While most of her work revolves around infiltration, observation, and reporting, Sharlin is not above getting her hands wet, literally or figuratively. She's the proverbial person in the room with half a dozen plans to kill any individual in it, and the ability to execute those plans.

Faults and Limitations:
Haunted - One doesn't get one's hands wet without paying a price. Some people aren't affected by killing, but they're either psychopaths or terminally stupid, neither of which is actually very useful long-term in Sharlin's line of work. Raw or rare meat makes Sharlin queasy, and she plays it off by saying she's vegetarian. She keeps it under control when she's on the job, but her private life is ruled by nausea and nightmares.

Under orders - As an operative of Imperial Intelligence, Sharlin is beholden to certain personages. Her commission is under the Imperial seal, and she gets her (very occasional, very important) orders from extremely high up. She is expected not to balk or fail. The fate of billions may depend on her actions.

I'm a killer, not a fighter - While she is highly lethal, Sharlin isn't set up to duel or brawl. Her skills and build aren't the best fit for a straight-up fight, and the only time she gets in one is if several things have already gone wrong. She's not a liability in a scrap, but she'd much rather execute her opponent without their even being aware they're a target.

Biography:
Sharlin is the last surviving scion of House Vande Tanne, a member of the minor nobility so useful and so annoying to the great powers that govern the Empire. Unfortunately they became the latter to the much more powerful House Moritani that coveted their holdings, and thus they found themselves, over the course of a generation, harried and pressured and eventually diminished to the point of extinction. This was done gradually, subtly, and so insidiously that few realised what was going on other than the great Houses for which Vande Tanne was but a pawn in a far larger game.
The end was ignominous - Sharlin's father, Jacob Vande Tanne, was a dissipated fool addicted to pleasure-substances (his supplier the family physician, whose education had been sponsored by certain august personages as a charitable gesture to young persons of talent). The affairs of the House were in disarray and a motion was presented in court to strip them of their holdings as a disgrace to the Empire - a motion supported by the cabinet and eventually approved by the Emperor, who signed one more decree among the dozens he dealt with that day.
Jacob degenerated swiftly under the shame, his fall accelerated by withdrawal from the very expensive drugs that might have kept his spirit afloat. He was barely coherent when he acceded to his loyal doctor's request to foster Sharlin, and he did not live out the month after. No-one knows if he died by his own hand, that of someone else, or merely as a consequence of his physical and mental breakdown - truth be told, no-one cares.
Sharlin, then, was directed to a boarding school, and then an academy, under the self-same sponsorship that had supported the kind doctor. It would have been a crime against the Empire, of course, to let such a promising young talent go to waste. A spirited little thing, clearly intelligent, and curious, and driven. Such a one must have her destiny guided by those older and wiser than she.
Sharlin has served Imperial Intelligence faithfully for a good long while, and her skills and loyalty have earned her a new assignment, perhaps the most critical in her career.

Mech:
Designation/Callsign: Phantom
General Description:


Role and Doctrine: The Phantom is highly specialised for reconnaissance and covert action. This isn't a mech that will stand in the line of battle and trade shots or fists. It sneaks past enemy lines, scans everything until we know more about the enemy than they do themselves, and then returns to base - or, if the opportunity presents itself, performs a sudden strike that will decapitate the enemy leadership or cripple their logistics. If it doesn't tilt the battle decisively, it's not worth doing.

Notable Armaments or Systems:
Chameleon stealth system - a full-spectrum low-visibility system, when activated it suppresses the sensor signature of the Phantom to less than that of a small mammal, well below the threshold that most mech sensor suites are designed to filter out as clutter. It requires considerable pilot skill to use well, as the pilot must use the terrain and background noise of the environment to stay hidden, especially when moving, and draw out the full potential of the system.

Spectra EW module - Just as Chameleon is the passive side of the Phantom's capabilities, Spectra is the active side. Using some of the most sophisticated (and highly classified) electronic warfare equipment available in the Empire, it integrates these with the Phantom's best in class standard sensors to generate the fullest picture available to a mech pilot in the field, at a level rivaled only by corps-level intelligence departments. It's also highly effective at piercing enemy deception efforts, as well as actively spoofing their sensors.

V-MAX - When the time comes to throw the cloak off, you want to make it count. The V-MAX supercharging system vastly increases the output of the Phantom's engines, granting it a 200% increase in power for approximately three minutes: time enough to cause utter devastation and get a head start on exfiltration in the chaos. However, once the V-MAX winds down, all the Phantom's offensive systems go off-line - the only things that work for the next half hour are Chameleon, Spectra, motive, and life support. The Phantom requires a full overhaul after every use of the V-MAX (cue much heartbreak on the part of its maintenance team), so it is effectively a one-shot device.

Known Limitations or Vulnerabilities:
Glass Cannon - The highly optimised design of the Phantom means it's the best at what it does, but also that it really, really should not be used for tasks it's not good at. Stripped down for speed and agility, and filled with delicate electronics, the Phantom has barely enough armour to shrug off conventional weapons, and is seriously threatened by anything mech-scale.

Hangar Queen - Similarly, any machine as fine-tuned as the Phantom will require a lot of work to keep it tuned to those superfine tolerances. The Phantom spends three times as long under maintenance, with the concomitant costs in manpower and parts, as standard line mechs.

Bio Questionnaire:
Why was your character chosen to be a member of the Lance?
If Prince Cassian truly believed his assignment would mean being free of the machinations of the Imperial court, he was terribly naive and sadly wrong. Sharlin's assignment was proposed at the very highest levels, and the Emperor himself signed off on it. However, who exactly came up with the plan, and the choice of operative, remains a mystery. Cassian himself may or may not be best pleased at this, but he's also a prince and a chevalier, and outwardly he's been nothing but gracious. It might not hurt that Sharlin cleans up very well, and received a very detailed briefing on Cassian's psych profile....
Why did your character accept the Prince’s offer to join the Lance?
It's all part of Sharlin's job - which is also her purpose. To Sharlin, there is no higher call than to serve the best interests of the Empire at large. If safeguarding Prince Cassian is the best way for her to further that goal, then safeguard him she will.
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