Friday, August 1, 2014

Heavy Type - The Jolly Rogers

by Bernard Nova

The Jolly Rogers
Singapore's First Heavy Gear Unit
Established 1997 02 19

  • Galahad "DOOMFIST" Lips (Squad Leader)
  • Ivy "REPINS" Imanaya Ec'Senave (Sniper)
  • Siegfried Kampf Hunter (Heavy Weapons Specialist)
  • Pierre Esquire (Commando)
  • Johnny Ogilvy (Grunt)
  • Ray Vahn (Grunt)

The unit was formed in late '96 when the first Heavy Gear rule book came in mid '96. It reached full operational status in early '97 when the team's members decided their various aspects of warfare they will be dedicated in.

The Jolly Rogers is mostly made up dishonored Heavy Gear pilots and hired guns. However, that does mean they are scumbags or some trigger-happy jerks who pissed-off everybody they meet. They have honor, integrity, and a sense of justice, it's just that by pure dumb bad luck they were discharged by the military. In order to support themselves, they band together and formed a mercenary group.

Special warfare or Navy SEAL style ops are their raison d'etre. Galahad Lips is an ardent fan of Dick Marcinko; a Navy SEAL who makes Tom Cruise in "Mission Impossible" looked like a weenie. Marcinko's spec war law includes "thou lead from the front not from the back" is just some of Lips personal credo. In addition, he 's quite a pyromaniac. He just loves thing going apart with bang and a mushroom cloud!

Up to date, the 'Rogers have completed two missions. One in the Badlands and another in the Skavaran emirate. They are currently in the Vahallan campaign....


Name: Galahad "Doomfist" Lips
Age: 32
Vehicle: Pilot of the Fire Dragon Strider
Rank: Squad Leader of the Jolly Rogers


Galahad is the son of Arthur Lips, a tycoon that made his fortune as a shipping magnate of Terra-Nova. Not willing to laze around and idle his life away, he joined the AST MILICIA for a life adventure in the military. He found Heavy Gears particularly fascinating; he enlisted as Gear pilot but was rejected due to his gargantuan built (1.8m). So he found an alternative job as a Strider pilot. During the War of the Alliance, he singlehandedly pushed a GREL infantry assault out off AST lines. Though successful, his Strider was reduced to junk and he took an AGM in the cockpit. The two soldats survived with minimal injuries but he got his face scarred and lost an arm as a result. The injury prevented him from participating for the rest of the war. The AST discharged Galahad out of the MILICIA. Consequently, the two fellow soldats felt he had gotten the raw end of the deal and decided to pull off a daring plan: steal a Strider and spirit Galahad into the Badlands. Well, they did it.

Galahad's battered body had a least half of a dozen cybernetic system implanted in it. That includes an arm and a steel skull cap, the metal cap made him looked like the phantom of the opera in some ways; a constant source of joke among the 'Rogers.

Name: Ivy "Repins" Imanaya @ En'senave
Age: 18
Vehicle: Snakeye Black Mamba
Rank: Sniper-marksman Of The Jolly Rogers


Ivy Imanaya is the MILICIA's Legion Noire's deadliest sniper in her time. Then 16 year old teen when she was first spotted by an SRID agent at a trideo game fair playing " Mamba Strike". Her uncanny accuracy, the ability to shoot through the thickest cover and firing on the moving platform made the crowd stare in awe of her. Smug with her handiwork, she strutted out smiling like the Cheshire cat. Only to be stopped by a trio of shadowy agents, they are asked her weather if she would "play" a lifetime of "Mamba Strike". Being a naïve and adventurous girl, she said yes without giving a second thought.

So the bane of the Northern Guard was created. At first, skirmishes between both sides ended with the victory of the Southern MILICIA once too often. Commanders leading small forces were stopped dead in their tracks by an extremely accurate laser shot into the Gear’s head, this is followed by several leg or arm shots onto the other Gears; disabling them or leaving them immobilized in the heat of the battle. Then as the conflict escalated, command posts and company commanders became her prime targets. She was able to halt a massive enemy force advance by just using the Mamba’s sniper laser only; she calmly picked off the senior commander and subsequently the junior commanders. That move threw the invading force into chaos. Needless to say they were routed.

She was too prominent a figure both in the Northern Guard and the Southern MILICIA. An elaborate plan was formed by her enemies to trap and destroy this thorn which was been on their side for too long. They first purposely broadcast a false message of a visiting general to a base named "Geria" at the borders of Saragossa. The MILICIA high command bit the bait and send her to eliminate this general. Upon arriving the site, she was jumped by a horde of Grizzly Heavy Gears. Two hip shots from her Black Mamba stopped two of the Grizzlies. She weaved and swerved like a real snake, striking the opposition in their weakest positions. Though they were beaten, her Gear was shot to pieces. With a barely functional engine and a destroyed onboard computer, there wasn’t much of the Gear to make it home, she thought, "This is it."

But her career as ace sniper is not going to an end, a passing air transport spotted her and picked her up.

The transport is a Gear carrier belonging to the mercenary group called "The Jolly Rogers".

Name: Siegfried Kamf Hunter
Age: 28
Vehicle: Razorback
Rank: Heavy Weapons Specialist


Siegfried is basically a failure of a man. Rejected by his boss as too gruff and ostracized by his friends as a "clod", he soon found his place in the world of warfare. He signed up in the Northern Guard as an infantry man. Posted to the borders of the UMF after basic training, he at first complained about being "watchman" of a backwater outpost then things started get a bit of interesting. Skirmishes between MILICIA at the borders began to intensify from gun battles to a full-blown assault in a matter of five days. Artillery pounded the outpost like a hailstorm, reducing it to rubble in matter of minutes.

The worst is yet to come. A wave of Southern infantry advanced with a cry, "Yaaaah!". The surviving Northern troops fled for their lives, but not Siegfried. He coolly searched for a machinegun among the shattered hulks. His mates urged him to make a run for it, he merely glanced at them foolishly and continued looking for the machinegun. Thinking he was driven mad by the earlier artillery barrage, they abandoned him; leaving old "Sic" to the hands of the incoming forces. When he found it, the massive infantry column was meters away from him. He cocked, took aim nonchalantly and fired. The familiar rat-tat-tat of the machinegun soon developed into roar as men were cut down left and right. The advancing troops almost immediately stopped in their tracks as their ranks were savagely mowed down. Siegfried guffawed with pleasure, "Hahaha! Come on! Come on! Keep them coming!"

The enemy’s rank swiftly became disorganized and were routed in a twinkling of an eye. Siegfried was eventually awarded the Northern Star medal for extreme (if not insane) bravery in the face of overwhelming odds.

Since then, his rise of position in the Northern Guard became meteoric. From a lowly infantry man to a much revered Heavy Gear pilot. He left service eights years later to go freelance with his trusty Heavy Gear, the Peacemaker Razorback. "Peacemaker? More like Warbringer!" he once remarked. "This jerk brought down more bogies than a man could squish the amount of ants in his entire lifetime!" he quipped.

During the period of freelancing, he worked as a security escort for a convoy, personal bodyguard to several CEOs of big companies and a hired gun for a small nation. The pay was good but his reputation as a one man army scared would-be aggressors so much that when they saw his trademark (that humongous six barreled cannon slung under his Gear’s left arm), they turned and ran like rabbits. "Boring job when those thugs see me and they disappear like magic...." Sic mumbled. One day, he saw an advertisement: "Jolly Rogers -- Shiver me guns! Hired gun needed . If you got a man with a big gun and all, Contact Lips at xxx-xxxx. Or just turn up for an interview at Doghouse Junkyard at 0900 hrs." Sic pondered for awhile and without delay, he turned up at the place . . . in his Heavy Gear, "Rock and Roll". "Hey! Tough guy, you want big guns? You got it, sir! Yes, sir!" The gear ‘demonstrated’ by blasting a nearby derelict to pieces in a matter of three seconds. Needless to say, the Rogers were impressed. Lips asked his mechanic, "Mac. Is my jaw down or on the floor?" Siegfried came out of this looking as pleased as punch and smiling like the Cheshire cat. "Soldier! You are hired!" Lips howled.

Name: Pierre Esquire
Age: 24
Vehicle: Panther (Stealth Jaguar)
Rank: Commando


Pierre was a member of the elite 1st Battalion of the Legion Noire. They, like their old Eurogerman counterpart, Skorzeny’s Commandos, are a daring lot. There was nothing they would not dare: assassination of high level officials, sabotage and infiltration of ultra-secret facilities. You name it, they probably done it before....

It wasn’t until he found out about the "Stridor" project. The "Stridor" project is the construction of a device that could turn an average run-of the-mill soldier into a frothing psycho-killer. Using a series of highly potent combat drugs and subliminal indoctrinations, the "Stridor" machine could churn out a company of super soldiers whose morale and bravery rivals that of a GREL. Unfortunately, it had a side effect; the poor soul would lapse into a coma and slowly waste away. But the high command had no qualms on using it, the tactical value was overwhelming. Their best unit could even take on a Heavy Gear company with their bare hands and come out the victor. His unit was the first to be tested on. For that 5 minutes, Pierre fought with himself. Should he follow as ordered or rebel? No. I will not end myself this way. With these words, he deserted the Legion. Two weeks later, he infiltrated the "Stridor" facility in a stolen Panther stealth Gear.

Inside, he saw with his quivering eyes how his former team became crazed berserkers when they entered a machine that resembled a pea plant with it’s pods suspended from the central stem. With a heavy heart, he tore himself away from the hideous scene and loaded a fresh clip into his machinepistol, cocked it. Taking a deep breath and a silent prayer to the poor souls he’s about to release from eternal madness, he swung in to action. Two hours later, the facility was left a burning hulk with Pierre in his gear speeding into the setting sun. The high command was furious about the event, who was the culprit? No one knew. Those who knew and saw him were dead.

Pierre met Galahad Lips and John Ogilvy in a bar, he overheard of their plans to found a mercenary unit. "Excuse me.... Mind if i join in?" he said in his heavily German accented English. The duo opened their eyes as big as a beer mug as they sized him up. "Oh.... Please," said Pierre as he opened his leather jacket to reveal a hefty looking pistol with the words, "Legion Noire: Ein Kampfschwader." With that, he was recruited as the Jolly Rogers’ jack-of-all-trades; master of sabotage, lord of espionage, number two sniper, and resident tactical advisor to Galahad.

Pierre is best described as a Germanophile; he wears a monocle over his right eye, smokes expensive Terran-made Cuban cigars, and dresses up like a German officer of World War II. Even his Heavy Gear resembles a German soldier: head unit with sloped neck guard, grenades made to look like stick grenades at his insistence, the Gear’s main weapon: a medium autocannon modified into a shape of the MP-44 German assault rifle and finally a shade of German grey and an Iron Cross emblazoned on the Heavy Gear’s left shoulder plate.

Name: John Ogilvy
Age: 27
Vehicle: Jaguarundi
Rank: Grunt


John Ogilvy, or Johnny as he wanted others to call him, is the son of a high ranking official in the Northern Lights Confederacy, Winston Ogilvy. The Ogilvys, whose roots traced back to old Terran Earth, served in the courts of English rulers for generations and were proud people who prided and reveled in their assigned jobs. John from youth had always dreamt of heroic deeds in the military whether spearheading an assault force or defending an objective from a determined foe. He got the chance when he was 18. John enlisted himself as a pilot in the Norlight forces, but, due to his color-blind condition, he was subsequently rejected and assigned to be a Heavy Gear pilot.

During his training period, John placed his mind, soul, and heart into the effort. His instructors think much of him and recommend him highly for transfer to the Valeria Officer Cadet School for furthering his training as a Heavy Gear pilot. John is often aware of what others think of him; he tries not to be too snobbish of his abilities. His father taught him from a young age: remember son, "pride goeth before a fall." Many a time, he offered help to those who were not up to the Norlight forces standard and brought them on par to the set standard.

Upon finishing his basic Heavy Gear pilot training, he was sent to the Valeria Officer School. There he was in his natural element: bold, innovative and an open mind for new tactics. "I could have sworn I have see no one like John Ogilvy. This man is the personification of Heavy Gear warfare itself!" remarked Lieutenant Gunther von Falkenhein, John’s instructor. Just before his commissioning, he approached by two members of the famed Gear unit, "Terror Tigers" to command a Heavy Gear squad. Which Valerian have not heard of the "Terror Tigers ?" they were capable of many feats which an average gear pilot would go green with envy; they could make their Gears roll, tumble, and bound like it is a part of their bodies.

John agreed to join them. To his surprise on commissioning day, he was given the rank of Captain, the highest rank in his cadre. His stint in the "Terror Tigers" took him to many places: the humid jungles of the Southern Territories, the blistering desert of the Badlands, the freezing North Pole, and the murky depths of the subterranean rivers. He had a stormy love affair with the infamous, now renegade, "Desert Vikings" officer, Lieutenant Anna Matthews. John fought with her back to back at the Siege of Gumstein when his company was whittled down to a handful of men, and Anna, isolated from her squad, was cornered by rebel forces.

Later, his unit was given the dreadful task of hunting the "Desert Vikings" down. The Vikings’ commander, Viktor Tykane has turned renegade, along with a large of portion of the unit. It was heart-wrenching battle to be as fellow soldiers fought each other with sense of deja-vu. For they knew what the other was going to do. In the end, the remnants of the rebel forces was cornered. Tykane was about annihilated by John’s guns until suddenly Anna appeared. She shoved herself between John and Tykane just as he fired his rapid-fire bazooka. A fusillade of rocket shells slammed onto her Jaguar like hailstones on a scarecrow; John’s mind went blank as he mumbled: "What have I done?" Using that moment, Tykane and his men made his escape.

After the battle, John resigned his position in the Norlight forces. He became a changed man; boozing, wallowing in self-pity, and muttering to himself incoherently. His former comrades often visited him, consoled him, and tried to talk him out of his pathetic stupor. But it was all for naught, he turned violent, behaved like a wild beast, shutting out his ears, and closing his eyes tightly as if never to accept the reality. One day, his forays at the bar had him bumped on what looked like a huge man. This man was nearly made of up cybernetic implants. With a booming voice: "John!"

John looked up and saw Galahad Lips. He and Lips had seen some actions during the War of the Alliance. Lips was looking for suitable candidates for establishing his own mercenary group, he asked John if he’s interested. " I left my skills behind a long time ago. It was my skills that i have brought such misery upon myself," he lamented. " I am fully aware of the Tykane business. It’s useless to sigh to oneself and do nothing about one’s problem," Lips said. Then he grabbed John, looked at him in the eye and said: " John Ogilvy. Snap out it!" with this words, he hauled John in to the toilet. What happened inside nobody knows, but one thing’s sure for that matter. The old John Ogilvy was back. Now he seeks for greater feats of heroism to wipe the stain of cowardice away.

Evidently, John was "Jolly Rogered". --GameThug

Name: Ray Vahn
Age: 28
Vehicle: Jaguarundi
Rank: Grunt


Ray Vahn was a character shrouded with air of mystery around him. It seems that he lived only to fight and challenge others.
From his teens, he had mastered the art of wargaming. Even the most seasoned wargamers could not stand up to his skill. Cool and nearly emotionless, he utilizes a unique combinations of psychological warfare and maneuvering the onboard units. Many opponents were convinced he had throughly controlled the game whenever he made such move.

He was also John Ogilvy’s buddy in the Valeria Officer School. After commissioning, he was posted to the Northern Guard Command HQ when his talents was fully used. Not eager to a " desktop commander" , he often ventures out to field to lead the troops in his Heavy Gear, a shimmering green Jaguarundi known to all as the "Viper". Ray Vahn slowly savoured the art of Gear combat like a man drooling over a haunch of beef, it became his new focus. From the art of wargaming to the art of fighting, he never felt so much challenged before! Towards the end of the war, something happened. A GREL patrol stumbled onto the command post behind the Norlight lines. Ray was amongst the command staff when a grenade was tossed into the post. It was destroyed instantly.

Ray survived the explosion but it left him several crippling injuries. He had to walk with pronounced limp on his right leg, his facial nerves were severed so he could not exhibit facial expression and severe internal injuries caused him to cough uncontrollably sometimes. Because of that, he was honorably discharged from the Norlight forces after the war. He tried to assimilate into civilian life but his condition made him somewhat hard. "Stone face", "reptile", and "sicko" were some of the unkindly remarks made by many to his condition.

He went back to his old hobby of wargaming soon after. Ray never looked for any jobs. He had amassed a sizable amount of fortune in the war and now is using them to maintain the "happy times" as he called it. His skills remained as razor-sharp as ever. Ray Vahn’s crippled condition made him even infamous as the "Crippled General."

The "Crippled General" on one evening after his one of his wargaming sessions hobbled home when he met two figures waiting at his apartment. One tall and brawny like a Teutonic knight, the other a head shorter with shiny black hair . Ray narrowed his eyes with caution as he drew his pistol. "I have no business with the government anymore," he hissed. An ominous ‘click-clack’ sound is heard. "Ray Vahn. It’s me, John Ogilvy." "John ? How did you find me?" Ray asked. "Eh.... It’s a long story," John sighed as his wiped his brow with his sleeve.

John asked if Ray is interested in joining a merc unit. He pondered and said, "What could I possibly be of use to you people ? I am already a Cripple." Galahad Lips interrupted with an "Ahem. Well, I can make arrangements for your leg to be well and your coughing to be stopped...forever." Lips made his point clear by pointing at his cybernetic implants. "Okay. Then count me into the team," Ray declared.

[Bernard Nova] [Heavy Type]

The above article was archived from Heavy Type: A Heavy Gear Fan Fiction Website as part of the Hermes 72 Archive Project. It has been edited from its original form and is used without permission.

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