New Valencia’s sun cast scant dancing rays through the cloud of drifting dust that rose from the desert in our scout lance’s wake. Pinion’s actuators hummed, her myomer singing happily as we made our way across the open plains; Bear and their Wildcat, only a few short strides from our right, keeping good pace at my side while the rest of our lance covered the advance’s eastern flank. Another roiling cloud of dust split the sea of sand as the Head Hunters pushed their Hollanders out in a screen ahead of Signifier and Carver’s lances. The distant shine of the ATC tower’s panes gleamed on the horizon, a welcome sight that’d usually put that last bit of pep in our steps to get home. The promise of a good meal, a real bed, and a hot shower driving us on as fast as we could manage.
Today, it only made the knot in my stomach ratchet down even tighter.
After near a week at march looking for something that wasn’t even there, there wasn’t a single one of us that weren’t looking to get back to base and take a proper shower; especially the Tankers and the Cavaliers. We’d been baited, no doubt about it; sent to chase a mess of ghost signatures that Management had been certain were the last remnants of The Word’s latest attack. Each one was nothing more than a generator set up to drag us from one spot to another with nary a thing to shoot along the way! We’d had it about up to our necks dealing with what was either Wobby bullshit or them idiot kids playing tricks again.
Then the base got awful quiet, day before last.
Now we expected the worst. Realized that we really had been coaxed out of our hole and sent on a wild goose chase while the Word rocked up on our base. All we- all I could hope for was that everyone was alright, that they’d gotten away safe or that the Blakists had shown restraint or recognized that they needed them, for once. If we were lucky, they were some of the less radical ones. If not…
Maryellen… She’ll be alright, had to b-
“Snow Owl, Signifier.” Pinion’s old Calliope set crackled to life in my neurohelm, Commander Polsen’s voice crashing past the thoughts that swirled in my mind and the light garbling pall of static left behind by the speeding Darters as they zipped about, doing their best to cover up the force’s advancing bulk. “Copy?”
I shook my head, casting the thought away, keying the comm and returning to surveying the horizon for any sign that we were being watched. Never knew what the Blakists would do, where they were, or what they were planning. It paid to pay attention…
And it killed to be distracted.
“Snow Owl copies, Signifier, send traffic.”
“Reef and Redtop report significant Word presence at the ‘port. Looks like they’ve smashed up the facilities and gotten hold of Stock Option. Figure they’re tryin’ to get her fired up to get off world.”
Sonuva bitch… Management’d be pissed if we lost another ship to the Wobbies, even if she was ‘just’ an old Overlord.
“Any read on force composition?” I grunted, angling Pinion back in toward the Commander’s bearing and beckoning Bear along with me. The dust-covered Rakshasa followed diligently, hardly breaking formation as they slew around to hold our trac.
“Looks like a pretty hefty integrated Level II and a fistful of Mercs; scattered colors, not sure what command.”
“Understood. We’re banking back in on you and the Head Hunters.”
“Copy.” Polsen stated, a solid clack cutting off the feed as Bear’s voice trickled in behind it.
“Guess it weren’t coincidence, after all.” She called, her Rakshasa swinging about to look at Pinion and I.
“Seems not. Keep your head up, I don’t like this one bit.”
“Don’t you worry, Captain,” She laughed, hefting Wildcat’s arm in a mimic of a salute, “we’ll have you an’ the missus reunited faster’n you can say ‘Wobbies go home’!”
“Leave it to us, Boss.” “We’ll show ‘em what for.” Reddick and Callahan’s feeds split in, their confidence helping to push a spear of hope past the knot in my chest.
“Good to hear we’ve got some gumption today.” I chuckled, leaning forward to trip Pinion’s Master Arm switch to ON. “Now, let’s go back it up.”
— Mechwarrior Captain Alan ‘Snow Owl’ Corthwright, Falconer FLC-8R pilot, General Motors Generalist Mercenaries, New Vallencia 3075
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Howdy Mechwarriors and welcome to another Mech Overview! This time around we’re looking at the Falconer, an IS machine built with a singular point and purpose in mind.
Taming the Falcons.
Which means I’m free! No longer must I slave away in the Omni-Mech mines! I can return to my precious shit buckets! To the Inner Sphere and the periphery! Though that ‘advisor’ followed me home and she still has a gun, keeps mumbling about killin’ birds or something. I’m a little worried about that, come to think of it…
But, no matter! I’m home again and I get to start with a gloriously funny looking machine that’s just rolled off the production lines of my favorite company: General Motors! Let’s go ahead and get into it!
Chassis
The Falconer was built to meet a contract put out by Hanse Davion to make a machine that could go toe-to-toe with an Omni-Mech and win, particularly those of the Jade Falcons. This is a good portion of the reason the Falconer is so… Jade Falcony, and of course why it has the name. Falconers aren’t the cheapest but they could certainly be worse for the price, there’s only the two of them so far so this should be quite quick!
This GM hotrod is a 75 ton heavy ‘mech that made its debut in 3053 with the Falconer FLC-8R, followed shortly by the 9R model in 3075. Both of them share a few baseline quirks here, namely a healthy 5/8/5 movement profile, kindly provided by the GM Extralight 375 rated engine that powers them and the five pack of jump jets. They also pack the same amount of armor, topping out at around 75% of the possible protection with 19 on the arms, 21 on the side torsos, 22 on the legs and 31 on the CT. On the rear we’ve got 6 on the sides and 8 on the center! Not the best protected ‘mech but at least it’s mostly 20 armor all over, though the 19 armor protecting a gauss rifle does skeeve me out a little bit.
Both of them share the same vibe for their armament, housing a PPC of some variety in the left arm, a quartet of Medium lasers across the torsos and a big ballistic weapon in the right arm!
Variants
These mechs have all been reviewed based on a standard F through S scale, which you can find described on our landing page here (along with all of our other ‘mech reviews, the name of the box you can buy to get any of the mechs we have covered, and our general methodology).
8R
Get out the gloves, its time to put some fuckin’ birds in their place.
The 8R is the standard model Falconer and has a good load of weapons for the slightly mobile heavy sniper it’s trying to be! Sporting a quartet of defensive medium lasers the 8R packs in an IS ER PPC and a Gauss rifle with two tons of ammo for the long range work it wants to be doing. All this gun is supported by the normal ten double heatsinks which are doing their best.
A jumping alpha strike with this will net you +13 into the red on the heat scale which isn’t great but it is short the shutdown check which is good as it will allow you to dive right back out next turn if you like! Of course you could do some picking and choosing for heat purposes, being down two heat by jumping in and firing off the mediums and the gauss or only +1 jumping about and firing both long range guns. This is some pretty alright heat management for an IS ‘mech and does a good job of supporting what the 8R wants to be doing!
At 2,231 BV it’s a bit of a steep price but having used it before and gotten good work out of it I think it, mostly, worth the price! Just don’t get it into a stand up fight, it’s not terribly happy there and there are far better options for the job. For this BV you’re only just shy of a few far better, if a fair bit less mobile, snipers like the Nightstar that actually have the armor to advance and take the big hits on the chin for a while. Or, for slightly less mobility and a lot less BV, you could field nearly a pair of Hollander III BZK-D2s and have double the hole puncher!
I do have a standing worry here at this price with the arms only having 19 armor while one of them packs in a Gauss rifle. Always worries me when an AC/20 has an alright chance to blow something up like that but at least the legs and torsos are proof for it I suppose!
Liberty’s Rating: C. It does a good job of being a jumpy sniper with acceptable enough armor to soak some counter fire while being able to get just about anywhere you could reasonably want it to be on your average map within a reasonable amount of time.
9R
General Motors got their shit together and made the cheaper bouncy beat stick I always wanted.
With the 9R the second verse is slightly different from the first! The 9R is an 8R with three key differences:
1: The ERPPC is now a Heavy PPC.
2: The Gauss is now an LB 10-X Auto Cannon with enough ammo to choose what to fire.
3: It has an extra double heat sink to deal with the slightly higher heat the LB generates.
These changes make for a machine that’s a bit more inclined to get slightly closer to the fight, even if the armor isn’t any better. The overall damage potential hasn’t changed any here, having the exact same alpha strike as the 8R, but with the LB 10’s flexibility the 9R can now critseek for itself which has some good worth in and of itself!
This is the Falconer I usually end up running because, at 1,979 BV, its 342 BV cheaper than the 8R and puts the Falconer’s platform in the skirmishing role that it is far better at over the long range sniping role the 8R purports to be. The 9R does a pretty good job of being a weird mobile skirmisher bouncing around your main line’s flank to take good opportune shots into something that’s looking the wrong way while going fishing for delicious ammo bins or engine parts with the cluster shot when the time is right!
Liberty’s Rating: C+. The better of the Falconer brothers, I quite like the 9R and highly recommend using it if you need something to weave through your force harassing enemy heavies or assaults and you’ve got the BV to spend on it!
Conclusion
A nice short one today! There’s not very many Falconers but they’re certainly some funny little guys to run! With a good movement profile, a pair of heavy hitters, a smattering of supporting assets and more or less enough armor the Falconer can certainly hold its own if it has to! I quite enjoy the Falconers, both in looks and in function, though the 9R is certainly my favorite child.
General Motors really hit the nail on the head with this one when old Hanse rang them up to get some new toys, though I’m surprised we don’t have another variant packing some large pulse lasers and maybe some E-War equipment. Just a big ol’ light hunter/heavy support asset! Would be a fun toy to play with! Also surprised there’s not a RAC or AC/20 caddy in here considering its association with the Davions and the Lyrans. There’s a lot of possibilities for fun options in the Falconer platform and I’m hoping they take the time to explore them!
To make up for the lack of ‘mechs to review this week here’s the conclusion for the opening vignette!
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A cloak of curling, acrid smoke drifted across the airfield as the sounds of battle beyond the mechbay’s walls subsided, fading away into the quiet, warbling howl of a westerly desert wind. The tiny peephole I was peering through hadn’t offered much of a view of the fight, only enough to watch that asshole in the Viking get his head staved in; one of the Hellions and their Hollanders, no doubt. It was what he deserved for what he’d done to Maurine’s bay yesterday.
God forbid the Blakists just leave well enough alone.
“Are we clear?” Jamie whispered beside me, fear clouding the young Astech’s eyes as he stared up at the bay’s skylights and the pale blue sky beyond. “D-Did they win?”
“Shut up, boy. You wanna get shot?” Calvin hissed from the rafters above us, the elderly ‘tech’s mop of gray hair curtaining his face as he carefully shimmies to peer out the windows, his voice trailing off as he sighs. “Sounds like someone sure did. Not sure who with all the smoke though…”
Silence hung in the ‘bay alongside wafting tails of smoke, choking the streaming light and stifling the familiar scent of old oil and fresh metal. The heavy thump of approaching battlemechs and the light trod of battle armor filled the air, rattling the building around us as they drew nearer and nearer. I knew one thing for certain as a vast canvas of blue and gray obscured the view from my peephole:
The Blakists hadn’t had any Battlearmor.
I threw the door open, striding out into the harsh desert light and taking in the results of our boys’ work. A company of shattered machines littered the ‘field, sending up columns of smoke and crackling fire alongside a fistful of scorched and broken machines that bore the company’s colors. They’d be a whole pile of work that’d need done another day, once we’d gotten everything else sorted and back on track.
Nearly every ‘mech that strode into view was battered and beaten, covered in scars, buckled armor, scorched paint, and missing parts. Good scrap and better salvage littered the ground around their feet; plenty of bills to be had on the market from old blakist equipment. Even still, amid all the destruction and broken machines there was only one ‘mech I was actually looking for right now.
And thank the Gods and the Stars I found it. Or rather, it found me.
Pinion strutted through the smoke like a triumphant predator, taking proud, thunderous steps as she reveled in the destruction she’d wrought. She slowed, coming to a halt a few meters away before easing down into a crouch as the hatch popped open with the whispering hiss of charged pneumatics.
“Maryellen?” Came Alan’s hopeful call amidst the boneshaking footsteps of Captain Polsen and his Nightstar.
“Alan?” I called in return, pausing to let one of the Hollanders pass, doing my best to ignore the torso that was all but missing that I knew I’d have to deal with sooner rather than later.
“Maryellen!” His face lit up when he spotted me, the clatter of his boots nearly drowning out the thump of ‘mechs around us as he sprinted to my side and pulled me into as tight a hug as he could manage, burying himself into my chest like I was the most important thing in the world.
“Miss me, Love?” I asked, a grin splitting my lips as I pushed into the embrace and held him as close as I could.
“Worried as all hell, Mary, you’ve no idea.”
“Well, I’m alright, Alan.” I whispered back, resting my chin on his head and breathing in the smoke filled air. We stood there for a few long moments just holding on like the world was at stake; like if we let go we’d never see each other again. Pinion was beaten half apart, but I could let that go for now; the rest of the Company wasn’t in much better shape and more than a few of them were in shambles laid out on the floor in need of some major repairs.
But parts can be replaced. Our ‘warriors can’t. We were alive, the Wobbies weren’t, and I thanked the steel scattered ‘round us for the chance.
— Lead Mechtech Maryellen ‘Mary the Tank’ Corthwright, GMGM Base 33 Lead Technician, General Motors Generalist Mercenaries, New Vallencia 3075
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Hopefully that helps assuage your cravings for more BT, and Falconer, content for now!
Until next time! Fair weather, good seas and happy hunting!
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