Chapter One

My tale begins during a Sunday evening of gaming. My Friends and I were taking a pizza break from our BattleTech table top game when I brought up the various BattleTech self inserts and CYOA's I have been reading on Space Battles. While discussing them I stated I thought it would be cool to be transported to the 3025 BattleTech universe with my collection being converted to actual assets. Upon finishing our pizza, we continued our game and with the dice gods turning against me my forces were decimated. Ah well there is always next game night.

After arriving home and going to sleep that night, I had a strange dream. I dreamt I was the son of noble parents who lived on the frontier world of Heliat, a planet belonging to the Aurigan Reach. I grew up with privileges not afforded to many, but also with the responsibilities you would expect of a noble's son. I learned how to service military equipment at an early age as the family's main revenue was derived from our repair facilities, not to mention the servicing of our own equipment. I spent many a weekend assisting at the repair facility, even learning how to operate the industrial mech in my early teens. Upon turning sixteen I was formally introduced to Raju Montgomery an owner operator of a Centurion battlemech we have serviced on occasion. I was informed that Mr. Montgomery would be instructing me on how to operate a battlemech in exchange for services required on his Centurion.

"Get Up Maggot it is time to start your training".

What the hell, how did you get in here, who the hell are you? Quickly turning over to identify the intruder yelling at me, I blindly reach for the Maglite sitting on my night stand. Not finding the Maglite and finally recognizing the person yelling at me is Raju "Mastiff" Montgomery, I roll back over assuming I am still dreaming. Physically being pulled from the bed I try fighting against being dragged toward a door, only now realizing this is not my bedroom. Going into shock, I find myself unceremoniously dumped in a shower stall with the cold water running.

"You, lazy assed pussy, have twenty minutes to be downstairs and ready for PT", Raju screams as he walks out the bathroom door.

Still in shock but considering the implied threat from Raju I quickly wash up finally noticing I am in a different body.

"ROB, ASB, Q, whoever you are, Fuck You!!!" I scream out before heading into the bedroom to look for clothes to wear.

Arriving downstairs just in time and not even sure how I found my way around this large house, I follow Raju outside. Upon reaching the front lawn, Raju leads me through some stretches before beginning the exorcises. I find myself rather enjoying the routine now that I am in a sixteen-year-old body verse my original 50 plus year old out of shape body. After completing the exorcises he leads us on a jog around the grounds going over what is expected of me in the coming years of training. Still in shock I simply follow Raju's orders for the first day of boot camp.

Once released from Raju's tender mercy for the evening, I grab something to eat from the kitchen before retiring to 'my?'room. Well fuck me! It appears I have been transplanted into the sixteen-year-old body of one Rick Francis Grimm, son of Anthony and Susan Grimm just like in my dream. I seem to be able to remember growing up as Rick/me, damn this is confusing. Luckily, I am/was single and living alone, no one will miss me with the exception of immediate family and a few close friends. I will also miss them but at least I do not have a wife or kids to worry about. I am guessing this situation has something to do with my claim of thinking it would be cool to be transported to the 3025 Battletech universe with my collection becoming real assets, although I am not sure how that will come to pass. I am sure it will take me quite some time to come to grips with what has happened to me, but it is not like I have any other choice than to run with it. Oh well I better get some sleep as it is back to boot camp I go in the morning.

The following several months were spent waking in the early morning for PT, followed by breakfast and continuing my regular education with tutors. My evenings were spent studying the military arts, whether they be theory, leadership or small arms practice at the firing range. The weekends were spent in training with the house guard unit, learning physical combat (having my ass kicked) as well as infantry skills. This left me little to no social time, however this was not a problem for me as I was a lot older than my appearance suggested. I did not feel comfortable hanging out with teenagers, nor was I over having my life altered in this manner. Over time I became friendly with some of the older house guard troops and seemed to be getting on well with Mastiff.

After months of basic training I find myself standing in front of a mirror enjoying the new me. I am physically fit and of average build, six-foot-tall with brown military cut hair and green eyes. It is strange but I am finding my self feeling more like Rick Grimm than my old self. Any way I better get ready as I begin my next phase of training today. Time to learn how to maintain and operate a battlemech. This being the Periphery means I need to know how to look after my equipment, including how to complete minor repairs. It is a good thing I learned a fair bit assisting at my father's business while growing up.

Coming down the stairs I see my father and Raju waiting for me. I am surprised my father is here as he took the family Mark VII landing craft out over a week ago on one of his scavenging tours. He is usually gone much longer than this as he flies to the various scrap yards on planet to search for anything useful. The two old geezers seem to be trying to hide smirks from me, which makes me kind of worried. Slowly from behind my fathers back he pulls a manual for a Chameleon CLN-7V and smiles while handing it to me. "What is this?", I ask. "The manual to your battlemech", he replies. Somewhat overwhelmed I slowly page through the manual while standing there with my mouth hanging open. Several moments later I finally notice the two of them laughing, apparently, they have been trying to get my attention for some time.

"So, are you going to join me to help unload your mech and move it to the hanger for inspection?" Raju asks.

Nodding my head, I follow them to the garage where I notice two of our wheeled APC's and a pair of our Striker light tanks are missing. That is half of our home guard, I guess they must be protecting my mech. Arriving at the family business, I am so excited I can barely breathe. Waiting just inside the compound gate is the missing home guard units surrounding a cargo hauler with a large crate strapped to it. I am just about to rush out of the car when my father calls for my attention.

"Rick you go get the loader mech up and running while I pay the delivery fee and have the driver unstrap the crate".

"Yes father", I reply before running into the shop.

Ten minutes later I came rumbling out of the shop in the loader mech belching black smoke out of the pipes. Carefully making my way to the cargo hauler I get into position to lift the crate. Double checking that everyone is good to go, I lift the crate up about six inches and then wait for the cargo hauler to drive out from under the crate. Once the area is clear I lower the crate to a safe point before making my way into the mech hanger. Placing the crate in the location indicated by John the shop foreman, I then back off and proceed to park the loader mech. I find my self nervously bouncing on my feet waiting for the workers to properly uncrate my mech. I am so looking forward to actually piloting and firing the weapons on the big stomping robot. Although I have concerns over being able to take a human life. I have hunted before, but that is not quite the same. Once the Chameleon is finally free of packaging, Raju calls me over and instructs me to climb into the jump seat so he can demonstrate how to stand the mech up properly. With Raju settled into the pilot seat with the hulking neurohelmet in place, I take note of the proper startup procedure. Raju informs me that I will have to set up passwords and a pass phrase to lock down the mech as it is currently unsecured.

"Why more than one password?", I question.

"The first password is for the techs and should only provide minimal mobility, the second password is for full mobility and the pass phrase is for full control".

Watching him right the mech and back it into its cradle shows me just how much I need to learn. With the signs of wear and the smell of stale sweat I can conclude this is a well-used machine. Still I am happy to have this opportunity, I only hope I can live up to it. Waiting for Raju to leave the cockpit, I close the hatch and enter the passwords and pass phrase. The tech password is my original nine-digit social insurance number, the primary password is my original ten-digit phone number interspersed with my original initials and my pass phrase is "when in doubt – use more firepower".

I spend every free moment over the next couple of weeks working with the shop crew inspecting and verifying the status of the Chameleon. With that out of the way I now have to work towards fine tuning the neurohelmet between myself and the mech. It is very frustrating not be able to dive right in and begin piloting the mech, but I still have to keep up my physical and general military training. Not to mention my regular education and the duties required of a noble scion. Soon I will be able to begin my actual live training with the mech.

The good thing about being so busy is I have not had much time to worry over my transition to this universe. I am sure there will be times when it will affect me like holidays and birthdays.