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TanwenKhittee ([personal profile] khittee) wrote2026-03-04 02:07 pm

The Madness of Wayne Waco


Or How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Will of Blake.
 
 
That wasn't the name of the scenario, but anyone who has played Battletech for a while knows what I'm talking about. It's one of those nights, and I'm in my migraine lenses when I get there, take my rescue meds, a metric boatload of potassium, my night meds, and put out the chocolate covered espresso beans. Let's go.

The Lore:

Wolf's Dragoons are heading up the El Diablo pass, guarded by the tiniest of deployments of Waco Rangers, headed up by Wayne Waco's teenage son John, in one of the saddest battlemechs on the field, in this case, a stinger. John and the Rangers are minding what appears to be an impassable canyon for the heavy assault mechs that the Dragoons are bringing up, and they're there as a backup. Turns out the frontal assault is the decoy, and the main advance is coming up El Diablo canyon. John and his lance set a great deal of the brush on fire to provide cover and smoke, to slow the Dragoons, John is forced to eject early from his inadequate mech, and in the smoke and confusion, is stepped on by a Wolf's Dragoons mech who absolutely did not see him.

ComStar runs an investigation and clears the Dragoons of all wrongdoing, and declares it a tragic battlefield accident. The Dragoons express their sympathies to Waco, it should have been done and dusted, these things, while tragic, happen.

Wayne Waco declares a 'death feud' with the Wolf's Dragoons, claiming that they saw his son on the field and cut him down in cold blood, even after being cleared by the independent commission.

Clear as mud? Great!

We get there, we're all familiar with the scenario, it's a famous piece of revenge lore. We're torn between saving John, straight (ha!)* up murdering John, ripping the limbs off the mech, carrying off the torso and ransoming him back to Daddy, and various scenarios in between. He is in one of the worst mechs available even at the time, in a box canyon, such that even if he ejects safely, he may not be able to escape without being accidentally trampled if we play with him on the field. I think we figured out that one hit could take him out. His odds aren't good.

Table 1 takes John Waco out round 2.

But I'm at Table 2, and we're a fucked up lot. We were team 'rip the arms and legs off and ransom him back to Daddy', although there's still a stomp him like a bug contingent. Waco's gonna be big mad no matter what, might as well make it funny. Because we're in assaults, and you have a small laser. Bring it.

We push up the canyon, and we're slower because we have slower mechs than Table 1. We also have my Taurian Sib from Another Crib (TSFAC) as our GM, (he's been doing Aerospace, which we don't have in this scenario, so he's getting some research points from GM-ing this round) while B is running Table 1.

TSFAC absolutely has it in for me. That's fine. I was talking shit. I deserved it, and I will absolutely do it again. And he is wrong about mechs, but that's another discussion. (Wolverines rule, shadowhawks drool. Fight me.)

We push up the canyon. We are making a mess of the OpFor. QueenD has an OstSol that's running 15 hexes and charging for 48 damage, and leaving smears behind. Our CO is running a Marauder doing 40 damage. My Gen X Bro is running a Longbow that's bringing up the rear and doing some nice damage. We have a new person doing good work in a borrowed Hoplite. Poor G has a migraine too, gamely fighting with his Warhammer and sitting in the back sipping a latte like it might save him.

TSFAC is dumping fire into me like that's going to work and I continue flipping him off and talking shit because the Griffin I'm in has hands and maxed out armor. I built an Awesome and an Awesome junior for this campaign and I brought the one that had jump jets to the hill climb.

John Waco survives until Daddy shows up in Round 5 in a big Battlemaster with a couple of other assaults. Welcome to the party. We proceed to (finally) pop John out of his stinger and onto the canyon floor in round 6. Oops. He's less of a sitting duck than you'd think, just because he's actually harder to hit because he's so small and basically all mech scale weapons are difficult to aim at a human scale target.

Until round 7.


We make our firing rounds, making jokes about 'Daddy' Waco, making a mess of things, etc.

G stands up, comes over, and declares his firing. "I'm firing two machine guns and two small lasers into the dismounted enemy infantryman on the field, with my secondary target at the Battlemaster with two PPCs, two medium lasers, and the SRM 6," in the most calm, neutral voice ever. He sounded like a sleeper agent who had just been activated.

It's the 'dismounted enemy infantryman on the field' that does it. Cold, neutral, descriptive. Not the guy's name, not his former mech, no emotion, nothing. The whole table turns and looks at him in dead silence. TSFAC looks *betrayed*. G has gear for every faction, every major unit, he's been playing competitively forever and he loaned TSFAC a Waco Rangers hat for the game, and he has just followed the lore to the letter, rolling Waco Rangers dice for the kill, just to rub it in.

He obliterated John Waco in cold blood with an assault mech that had weapons optimized for killing infantry.

G has just done *exactly* what Wayne Waco has always accused the Wolf's Dragoons of doing.

And the Wolf's Dragoons were never here.
No one will ever believe Wayne Waco/the remaining Rangers.
ComStar will clear the Wolf's Dragoons of any wrongdoing.

Blake's Will be Done.

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A few fun facts of note here:

One: the Denver BATL group is a 'ghost' regiment of the Dragoons, we're the experimental arm, and on paper, we don't exist, hence the funky bird colors and random silliness. We're not here, you didn't see us, and the real Dragoons will laugh at you if you claim you did.

Two: G is a dyed-in-the-wool Wobbie. He hands out Toyamas in exchange for accepting the Word of Blake. More fun facts, one of these Toyamas was my first mech. Yes, I accepted the Word of Blake, this is a discussion for another time, but I should definitely talk about cults.

Three: G is an evil cinnamon roll, everyone in the group knows it, and we all fall for it every week. Seriously. He would just be a cinnamon roll, because he's literally one of the nicest people on earth, except that he also takes great glee in systematically destroying your forces, then smiles and says 'nice game, thanks for playing' like he didn't murder you like an absolute monster. Everyone then proceeds to forget all about this like it never happened until the next time. G could knock over a bank in broad daylight and no jury on earth would convict him.

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*Nothing straight about Table 2. Three, maybe four people at Table 2 are completely straight, and I say that only because I haven't asked, and they haven't said. Out of 9. The rest are queer as fuck.