Posts by Commissar Carrie:
This is a story I wrote as a prologue for an “A Time of War” roleplaying game I just started GMing. Two of my four players are pretty unfamiliar with the Battletech/MechWarrior setting, so I thought I’d write up something to introduce them to to setting and give a little background on where their regiment stands.
April 5th, 3048
Sgt. Kay O’Bannon, 17th Skye Rangers, Charlie Company
Dromini VI, Dieron Military District, Draconis Combine
The Commando crashed through the trees at a dead sprint. Branches and trunks shattered with sharp cracks as the 25 ton war machine rushed through the forest at nearly 100 kilometers per hour. Inside the Battlemech’s cockpit, Kay was boiling in her own sweat. Humidity fogged up the screens on her instruments and moisture collected on the inside of her cockpit canopy, dripping down in long, thin rivulets that streaked the armored glass.
She’d been pushing the machine to its limits for three hours now, and the fusion engine below the cockpit was straining with excess heat, far more than the Commando’s heat sinks could possibly handle on their own. A warning light flashed on one of the consoles, and for the fifth time in as many minutes Kay slapped the override for the machine’s automatic safety shutdown. Down below her, in the torso of the humanoid machine, a half ton of short range missiles cooked in the heat. At any moment something could give, and the Commando would be ripped apart in a cacophony of explosions as its own ammunition cooked off, the force doubly destructive as it was trapped in the armor plating of the machine. Kay tried not to think about it. Read the rest of this entry “
We’ve all experienced it. We walk into the car dealership and it happens. We buy a house, and we are subjected to it. Sometimes, we post an article about Space Marines on a blog and a nice man is kind enough to inform to us exactly what we don’t know.
Thank you, sir, for mansplaining that to me.
Mansplaining is a common ailment affecting men from all walks of life, no matter race, color or creed. Certain environments, such as sports bars and garages, can exacerbate the condition exponentially, but no area is truly safe from the malignant disease of the mansplain.
WIkitionary defines “Mansplain” as “To explain (something) condescendingly (to a female listener), especially to explain something the listener already knows, presuming that she has an inferior understanding of it because she is a woman.”
And it is a shame when it happens to gamers, but it does, a lot.
Wow! The post I made on why I disliked Space Marines resulted in a lot of excellent conversation in the comments section which touched on a lot of issues I didn’t get to in my previous article, so here’s a repost of some of the commentary, and my rebuttal in an effort to make myself more clear and to offer a differing opinion on the subject.
I would also love to make it clear that I do not dislike anyone for liking or playing Space Marines, and my issue with them is strictly with their portrayal by Games Workshop.
In Warhammer 40K, Space Marines are the end all be all of the galaxy, at least from a marketing perspective. They have Ultramarines, Blood Angels, Space Wolves, Black Templars, Grey Knights, Dark Angels, Chaos Space Marines… And that’s just the ones on the tabletop who’ve had a codex released in the last decade. That is seven out of 16 armies. 44% of the tabletop armies are Space Marines of some shape or color. This number gets even more staggering when looking at the novels, nearly 3/4 of which are about Space Marines, and of all of the Warhammer 40K videogames, only two do not have the player take control of Space Marines as the protagonists.
Space Marines are 40k.
And that’s what my problem is.
++May 22nd, 3050
++FWL Colony #3454 “Fallen Bow”
++Planet Genvieve, Free Worlds League
Lt. Karen “Power” Simms thumbed the button for her comms, “Viper Three, checking in. No contacts in mountain village, grid square Charlie Four. Whatever happened here, I think we missed it.”
“Roger that, Viper Three,” Commander Llorn answered over the comms. “Behemoth lance reports no contact river either. Proceed to Delta Seven and clear.”
“Delta Seven, aye.” Power leaned back into her Raven‘s command couch and looked around her at the deserted prefab buildings of the small outpost. The distress call had gone out four days ago, and the Renegade Suns were the first boots on the ground, half a week late to be of any use. Now the entire colony was a ghost town, with no sign of what had happened to the people here except a few open doors, swinging in the wind. She felt naked without any infantry support clearing these buildings, but the Suns had been hired to be first responders, not garrison troops, so their only infantry platoon was securing the area around the dropship to make sure the ‘Mechs had available transport in case they needed to be somewhere fast.
The low thrum of the fusion reactor inside the light ‘Mech purred through her spine as Power throttled up to a slow walk, wary of ambush. Her Raven, designed for recon work, was small and lithe, and with its Guardian ECM Suite blocking enemy sensors she felt like a ghost haunting the graveyard of the colony. Her own sensors still registered blank except for the distant blips of the rest of Viper lance, spread out throughout the forest and mountains surrounding the colony. As she watched Viper One, Captain Donaldson, move towards another small outpost of prefabs half a klick away, her map flickered and her sensors went dead. “Hold up. This is Viper Three, I’m experiencing some sensor trouble. Is anyone else getting this?” All that answered was the hiss of static through her comms, and a chill rushed through her. She’d just entered into an enemy’s ‘Mech’s ECM bubble.