005. Keep those rifles downrange, I don’t want any lollygagging

Huu felt panic rising up in his chest.

What the fuck was happening, the words kept rebounding inside of his skull.

It was halfway through the tour, halfway through the opening day and the machinists he had hired... had produced a working model of a 2-pdr gun.

The event started innocuously enough, stepping into the test range that had been built after a successful tour explaining the different parts of the facility.

Inside, waiting for them was not an empty space that he could show off, but a 2-pdr gun. One that was new given it didn't have paint. Probably? The thing was the dull grey of unpolished metal.

Which told Huu, that this was a recent manufacture, but how? The factory only opened this morning, opened for a public tour. There was nobody here actually building or manufacturing anything.

So how did this gun get here!?

He was legitimately worried, somehow things had changed without his notice, and it was causing no small amount of consternation. Just what was even happening!? His teenage brain that demanded to be in control of the world around him was not happy indeed.

"Little Boss! Over here!" A deep voice carried over the clamouring crowd, silencing them instantly. The reporters were equally surprised it seemed.

Standing there, next to the observation box was Erwin Jaxon, himself grinning widely. His slightly yellow teeth (the natural colour he was told) gleaming in the sunlight.

Hurrying over, all the better to get some answers, Huu was feeling more even, less panic, less worry. Things were evening out as his brain got into gear and started to think things through. This wasn't an issue right? Actually, this was even better.

Right.

Stop worrying about things happening out of nowhere.

The teenager, right on the cusp of manhood, awash with hormones felt the struggle. Fight or flight, or rather, in the case of a teenager, panic or gribble. The adrenaline coursing through his body giving him the jitters. The shock of an unplanned occurance (after the whole tour that was unplanned) did not go over well with his body.

He thanked Erwin in his head, the jog over eased the strain, his jitters reducing down until he was back to the baseline, assuming your baseline included a litre of black tea that is, the most caffeinated of all teas.

Just like drinking a litre of tea, he was going to need to go to the little boy's room in the near future, not that Huu knew that. The intricacies of bladder movement wasn't really a concern for a young, healthy man.

"Little boss, we've set the gun and you won't believe what it can do." These words came from Ronaldo at his side.

Huu felt puzzlement filling his head, little boss? What was with that?

"The lads and lasses couldn't help themselves you know? We had the tooling waiting at the complex back at Lott and just had to try out the machinery. It's older than everything else in the Inner Sphere, can't believe we got to use it! Then, once everyone started using the drop hammer, we couldn't help putting together one of these ancients for ourselves. Next thing you know, we have one of these guns right here! You wouldn't believe how easy it was. And the drop-hammer, never felt anything like it in my life, it's amazing! It's like there was a spirit inside the machines, wanting to fulfil its purpose again after a thousand years." Ronaldo couldn't help contain his excitement.

Huu meanwhile was a little shocked at the sheer torrent of words that came at him.

He managed to pick up the most important part of the conversation however, the wonders of his genius.

"You managed to build one of the guns?"

A vigorous nod was his response.

"And you're going to use it now?"

Another nod.

Right.

Right, he could work with this. The gun was absolute shite, and actual proof of it on camera? Could he ask for a better non-advertisement? It was like cock blocking, but for business... suit-blocking?

"Right, let's test it! Just let me warn the camera crew so they can get it all in-frame!"

Huu grinned widely as he made his way back, everything was coming up aces!

+_+

Sille M. Villadsen nee Mardsen was giddy with excitement.

This was the kind of fluff piece that got itself replayed across the entirety of the Commonwealth.

She could see it now, young teen, desperate to help the conscripts on the frontline after he was passed over, builds armaments factory to produce equipment for the militia. Already that was a good story.

But when there was the fact that they were using equipment from the British Empire, back before mankind had even stepped off Terra itself? The French and British demographics on Blackjack would love it. The original settlers had been French and British after all. This wasn't unique either, the settlers of Northern Europe were spread across the Commonwealth and this tangible piece of their heritage being reborn would see this story spread the name of Sille M. Villadsen nee Mardsen across the Inner Sphere.

The only way this could be better was if it was a German gun being displayed today.

Human interest story, fluff piece, and cultural heritage piece all in one film reel?

A little jog after him as he chatted with the machinists and her story grew even further. The spirit inside the tools? The supperstitious public would eat that right up. What else would you expect from a star nation where everyone checked their fortunes daily?

She was going to be famous! After two years on this planet covering graduating trainees and soldiers of the Blackjack School of Combat, (always a hit with the conservatives that hated the idea of 'ungentlemanly' combat), she was getting rewarded for her patience.

"Okay, right. Attention please, attention please, eyes over here! The machinists of the Interstellar Association of Machinists have put together the first Ordnance QF 2 pounder built in the Inner Sphere after over one thousand years. They will be test firing the gun at a block of armour. Please, make sure you capture the moment on camera! But before we fire, we will be showing off the different features for all to see!"

Huu, the teen that had been the focus of the camera was beaming at them. Well, eye-smiling that is. His mask, self-explained as allergy prevention, ensured none could see his face save the eyes. Eyes that were nearly slits, so hard was he smiling. His posture, a better indication of his mood was one of openness, joy, success. Whatever the outcome, he felt as if he had already won.

The camera would love it.

Sille didn't plan to disappoint, after all the work he had put into this... well, it would be criminal if the public didn't see the culmination of all the effort.

With a finger at the Alex, her cameraman, Sille focused on the surprisingly large mounted gun. She had seen the support lasers that some of the wealthier infantry regiments had been able to source and they were rather lower in profile, smaller as well. This was rather more a beast of a gun. Unrefined, filled with untapped aggression, yet still sleek and almost modern in style. A quick reference to the pamphlet handed out by the rather efficient assistant told her the gun was first designed in 1936 and weighed 816 kilograms.

Nearly a ton!

The impromptu gun crew, made up of... ah, trainees from training school 91314. Itself clear because of the teal of their caps.

Spinning a full 360 degrees through the use of hand cranks, she couldn't help but be impressed. It's hard to believe such technical sophistication was present 1000 years ago. Actually, that was a good line to add into the dub before it went out for mass broadcast!

Fully demonstrating its capabilities, the 16 rounds in boxes stacked on the stand to the right, the gunner on the left. The crew stood at ready. Their instructor stood at the back, giving orders as she did so, her voice strident and firm.

"Load!"

"Aim!"

"Loose!"

And with a surprisingly quiet report, the gun fired. It may have been because they were hidden behind cockpit grade glass in a safety booth, but still... remarkably quiet.

The slab of armour recoiled backwards on its base, splintering fragments out as it did. The shards flung themselves across the testing range and she was rather glad they were behind glass.

The instructor managed to avoid being hit, standing upright and firm as she remained at her post. Or perhaps just knew that the shrapnel and spalling of the armour wouldn't amount to much with the distance they were from the block. The gun crew behind the gun shuddered as armour fragments ricocheted off the shield. The trainees not prepared for the display.

The damage numbers on a digital display ran up to 67.5 kilograms. The same as a light rifle, the kind they used out in the periphery because of tech loss. Not that the Lyran Commonwealth had ever had that problem.

"Load!"

The process repeated itself six more times. Three seconds between each shot. Again and again.

Sille's eyes were wide, elbow hitting Alex. "Get that footage to headquarters now! I'll be over as soon as I can, we need to get this story off planet first! Don't let the Propaganda Department beat us to this story!"

Alex nodded and quietly slipped away, a sneak that turned into a stampede as everyone else realised the importance of what they had just seen. Sille gave up all pretences of paying attention and legged it after Alex. She needed to get this story to the HPG! Damn the reporters at the Propaganda Department, they weren't going to steal this from her!

A domestic gun that did the damage of a light rifle, sure. But one that could do that every three seconds!? The QF in the gun designation stood for quick firing... but she had no idea just how quick firing it was! More, it was built with tooling so ancient she didn't know of any ancestors that had lived during that time. So simple that a team of 15 machinists could build it in a month. The military would be all over this, the public would be all over this, everyone would be all over this. 

This went from cultural fluff to militarily relevant across the Lyran Commonwealth.

Fluff, a human interest story, militarily relevant, a unique-looking youth, a story of entrepeneurship, every single box except for romance had been ticked!

The story had to leave today, she was going to be so famous!

+_+

Huu watched the reporters fleeing the factory. Off to tell everyone just how terrible the design was, how nobody with half a brain should purchase it. Not even waiting to finish the tour. Hah, he knew he had a dud on his hands!

Satisfaction filled his bones.

All according to plan.

"It's amazing boss, it hits like a truck!" The machinists were congratulating him, slapping him on the back with wide smiles. Huu accepted it all with a smile. They were comforting him for such a dismal showing. Seriously, with such wide smiles on their faces and patting him on the back, was there any way to make the fake cheer even more obvious?

Who would want something that was even weaker than an autocannon 2... but didn't even have an autoloader? One that needed a vehicle to tow it around because it was so heavy? One that needed a crew of 4? Support weapons in the Inner Sphere after some research were all man portable, who was going to push around an 800 kilogram gun? Not even including all the ammunition which pushed it up to 900 kilograms.

Nobody, that's who.

He beamed at them.

"Everything went well! You guys were amazing. Feel free to party my dudes!"

A cheer rose up from the trainees and machinists.

Huu couldn't help but feel that this was the start of something great.

There were even trainees from the Blackjack School of Combat here to offer him sympathy after that showing. Things were so bad that everyone was trying to make him feel better!

Too bad there was no alcohol for him today, not that he drank. He was a mopey and sad drunk. All he had was coke vanilla, the only original flavour from his timeline. Their production facilities of the base syrup on Tau Ceti having been raided by an unknown force... that many assumed belonged to pepsi. In any case, vanilla coke was the only survivor. A nostalgic hit when he needed it. None of the new-fangled meat-truffle coke they came out with last year.

Taking a sip, he allowed the flavour of his original universe to flow past his tongue. Things were looking up. No sales were forthcoming after that shite showing.

Nobody with sense in their brains would even think to buy the Universal Carrier if the gun it was meant to schlep was shite.

Better, it was going to be broadcast, which meant that even people casually looking for equipment would be able to see visually just how bad it was.

Everything was coming up aces!

Huu felt satisfied, time to sit back for the next five months and wait for the losses to roll in.