Leutnant Heinrich von Schlieman
Gunnery Skill: 3
Piloting Skill: 4
Kill to XP conversion: 3:1
Maximum Refit: Class D (SO pp. 188)
Special Abilities: Available at Double Cost
SHD-2HvS Shadow Hawk “Despair”
Heinrich von Schlieman is fairly typical of the social officers found in service to the Lyran state, and by implication, House Steiner. Arrogant in the extreme and totally aloof from the lower ranks and others he considers beneath his notice, von Schlieman has no awareness of the fact that his own genetic lineage is marked by a certain common touch. 1200 – 1300 years prior, the Schliemann’s were middle class burghers at best, and not proper junkers at all. Heinrich would be shocked to learn that one of his early forebearers was a minister, deposed by his congregation for embezzling church funds. The son of this defrocked cleric made large amounts of money in war profiteering, using the proceeds to fund treasure hunting missions in order to decorate his painted whore of a second-wife. Thouch couched in terms of archaeological discovery, most of the Schliemann legacy to archaelogical sciences was how NOT to conduct excavations. The original Heinrich Schliemann came to be regarded as a jumped-up treasure hunter and P.T. Barnum like figure, even in his own time. It’s uncertain when the title of nobility was acquired by the Schlieman’s or when they dropped the second “n” in their family name. Doubtless it was shortly after the family’s migration to space, with the deletion of the unnecessary letter a nod to a heritage of German efficiency.
It may be something in his blood that draws Heinrich to study ancient history, like the Star League Era of humanity. He overly romanticizes the Golden Age and ignores that a great deal of repression accompanied the venerable league’s centralist policies. Heinrich would dearly love to get his hands on some LosTech; either to put above the mantle or plug into his mech.
Despite his faults he is a committed soldier to the Lyran state and embraces a chauvinistic attitude towards his interstellar nation. His approach to combat is direct and brutal, doing what needs to be done in any given situation in order to assure victory. Heinrich retains a pragmatic streak that causes him to fall short of a soldier-martyr. Much like the vaunted “Red Baron” of truly ancient times, he’ll use every trick in the book and doesn’t mind padding his score with inexperienced combat victims. While Heinrich does not go out of his way to break the generally accepted conventions of modern warfare, he has no time for those who cite the Ares Conventions chapter and verse. For the most part, Heinrich finds such people to be either moral hypocrites or actual cowards and usually both.
Upon entering service as a mechwarrior, Heinrich received his family’s Shadowhawk. Not satisfied with its armament, he has modified and trademarked a version he labelled SHD-HvS.
Heinrich views himself as a 1%er and as such he runs his machine to the ragged edge. It’s not uncommon for him to go Alpha on an oppossing mech after a text-book flanking maneuver, while risking shutdown. His high risk/high reward mentality assures that he will either be the 31st century’s Achilles or the latest young pilot to burn out before fading away.
Lean and wiry, Heinrich exudes aggression in every abrupt motion. His surprisingly deep voice carries a ragged threat of violence with every word.
The best that can be said of this pilot’s death is that he never saw it coming. He had always assumed that drop-ship pilots were the bottom-of-the-barrel skill wise in the aerospace corps. Gloryhounds and ace pilots always ended up as fighter jocks while math junkies ended up steering the massive jump ships. It only makes sense to put the minimally qualified pilots in jobs where their incompetence could be masked in the heat of battle. Or perhaps Heinrich’s opinions of drop ship pilots reached perturbed ears. In any event, being too close to a drop ship when it lands is not a great place to be, particulary in a low-g near vacuum. Every major system on Heinrich’s ShadowHawk failed simultaneously just as the percussion wave followed on by debris struck the 55 ton machine.
Heinrich von Schlieman. He wanted to live as a new Achilles and ended up dying as a heel on an airless rock.