Well,yes,but our hero could be Emprah in disguise....
I was joking,he is too competent for that.
Blood on the Horizon (Reimagined)
- Thread starter MarkWarrior
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I was joking,he is too competent for that.
Chapter 41
MarkWarrior
Well-known member
Chapter 41
Date: January 7, 3003
Location: Zenith point, Taurus, Taurian Concordat
"Well, Major, are you ready to explore the universe?" Doctor Ford asked, a wide grin on his face as my five dropships began docking with the King Henry and IE's Star Lord.
"Yeah," I replied after a moment of staring out the viewport. "I think I am."
"Just keep in mind that it is one of the things that is both fascinating and boring all at the same time," Ford's smiled died a bit. "There are many wonders among the stars, but there are horrors as well. Human Nature lends itself to self-destruction in many ways, and much of the history that we are tracking down is worlds that have been lost and burned over time."
"But there's always hope on the horizon, isn't there?" I asked. "After all, just as we tend towards self destruction, there are also those who are willing to push on forward, those who are willing to do what is right, to push forward for survival's sake and beyond."
"Aye," Ford nodded. "It's part of the reason that Interstellar Expeditions was founded. We believe and hope that there are remnants of the Star League out there, that there are peoples who have decided not to dissolve into the rampant wars that have been ongoing since the collapse of the Terran Hegemony."
"Well, who knows," I shrugged. "There's a lot of people, and we don't know what they've discovered in their time out there. There could be people that sent on an entirely different technological path."
"Possible, but unlikely," he replied. "But maybe we'll find out one day," then he turned as our biggest dropship began docking with both of the Leopard CV's, the giant ship then docking with the King Henry, leaving none of the bays on the Invader-Class Jumpship free.
"Out of curiosity," Ford asked as he noted the name now scrawled on the side of the dropship. "Why did you rename her?"
"Apparently, it's traditional for you to rename a ship after she's been salvaged and recovered by a different nation or company," I shrugged. "That, and the dropship crews asked for a name change. I asked for a poll, and they all decided to rechristen her the Phoenix due to her being reborn."
"From the ashes of the old, something new rises," Doctor Ford murmured. "It is indeed fitting. Now, I believe it is time for the Messenger, Vagabond, and Troy to dock with the Event Horizon so that we can be on our way."
"Looks like," I watched as the King Henry winked out of existence to go clear and check the next system first.
–
–
"Wardog, Hitman, System's clear, do not launch," Mother Goose broadcast, the slightly modified Leopard CV acting as an modernized AWACS system.
"Copy that, remaining on standby," Blaze replied, his fighter remaining in the hanger as the doors closed.
After thirty minutes of waiting, the Event Horizon appeared in the system, the massive Star Lord hailing the King Henry and the other dropships as it finished its scans.
"System seems clear," Major Hull's voice came through. "King Henry, Phoenix, were there any issues with the docking systems?"
"Negative, jump was as smooth as any other," Captain Kaylee Frye replied, her brown hair tied up into a ponytail and some grease on her face from where she'd been assisting with maintenance.
"Good," Hull sounded relieved. "I was worried we might have messed up some of the systems in the refits."
"No sir, both ships are working as good as ever," Kaylee grinned.
"Good," Hull replied. "We're on contract for the next eight months, so let's keep it that way."
Date: February 14, 3003
Location: In orbit over unnamed system.
"Well, there's certainly evidence that it was settled at some point," Ford smiled. "It seems that they were using internal combustion for most things, and had reverted to fission reactors for their power needs."
"Did you find what you were looking for?" I asked as I supervised the salvage and recovery of the small group of antique 'Mechs that had been left behind. Some of them had obvious battle damage, but the lance was relatively intact, and even if we had to work on them, we could probably modernize enough components to make them a useful addition to our current forces.
"Yes and no," he replied. "According to what records were left behind, this was only a small portion of the refugees that decided to stop here, mainly those who were more sickly and frail."
"How'd they go?" I asked, watching as an Griffin GRF-1A was loaded onto a recovery vehicle alongside an ARC-1A, a primitive variant of the Thunderbolt.
"It seems that they eventually decided to leave and head back to the Concordat," he shrugged. "But given there are no records of their return…"
"It's entirely possible that they never made it," I agreed. "Were there any indications of which direction they headed?"
"Yes, actually; the refugees that continued on left documentation with those who stayed here in case they decided to follow in their footsteps."
"Well, we've got whatever useful salvage was left behind once we've loaded this up. So let me know when you're ready to head out and we'll move onto the next planet in the chain."
"Yes, the dropshuttles used here wouldn't be that useful to bring along," he glanced out at the nearby field littered with the antiquated technology.
"You did go over them for data, right?" I asked.
"Nothing worth noting," Ford shrugged. "And while there are many people who could write an entire archeological thesis on this colony alone, I intend to document this location and allow other expeditions to complete a full overview."
"You're the boss," I replied. "We're just the hired security."
"We'll move on and see what lies ahead," he confirmed.
–
–
The next few systems and worlds were both the same and different from the first one that had a settlement on it.
On the next world, the people had receded to a pre industrial revolution civilization level, and seemed to be largely agrarian, so we landed to check out the few older dropshuttles and dropships before leaving the world as we found it.
The second world, was devoid of life, and scattered craters and signs of nuclear weapon usage indicated what had happened there, even before recovering a few records.
"Seems that the refugees didn't quite all get along," was all that Doctor Ford had to say on the subject, even as we left the still intact nuclear weapons behind while collecting a few older Aerospace fighters to add to our collection of older war material.
Then, we came to a system that peaked all of our interests.
"That, is a fleet of Jumpships," Doctor Ford stated the obvious, the scattered jumpships in various states of disrepair, but many of them still looking relatively intact.
"Captain," I glanced at Kaylee. "What do you recognize out of the fleet there?"
"Well, there's a handful of Aquilla's, some other ships that I don't recognize and what looks to be a pair of Leviathan jumpships out there."
I looked at Doctor Ford, an inquisitive eyebrow raised as he gave a small nod.
"Captain, keep Hitman on overwatch, we're heading down to the planet, I want you to see if there's any way to get the Leviathans back up and running, even if you have to strip parts from the rest of the fleet to get it up and running."
"You just had to ask," she grinned. "This is the sort of thing that I live for."
"Eight Dropships will increase our capacity by a lot," I replied. "And sixteen collars would be a dramatic improvement that would open us up to some really good contracts."
"We'll see what we can scrape together," Kaylee replied, disappearing off to find some engineers.
"Now we just have to see what it's like below," I turned to the Interstellar Expeditions expedition head.
"Indeed, this does appear to be where they stopped to settle," he agreed. "Let us hope that there's more to this than there was before."
Date: May 21, 3003
Location: Abandoned World, Codenamed Eidolon.
"Well, it looks like they had a decent civilization here," I stomped around in my 'Hammer, Doctor Ford riding in my jumpseat as he looked over the scans that my Star League Era computer was running with my sensor suite.
"Stop here," he indicated a specific part of the city that we were walking through. "There's a bit of power coming through there."
"That's definitely the government center," I shrugged. "Might as well begin checking it out."
We dismounted and walked into the center, the dark building made darker by the lack of power to most of the building.
"Where were the readings coming from?" I asked as I shined a light around the area.
"They were on the second floor," he found a set of stairs leading up. "But we may want to have more people begin searching," his flashlight came to a stop upon a bare skeleton. "I have a feeling we'll need to comb over everything."
"I'll have them bring over over the reactor we stripped from one of the antiques," I replied. "We just stripped the Wolverine, so we should be able to use that to get some power going to the surrounding buildings."
"Good," he smiled. "Hopefully we'll be able to shed some… Illumination on the subject."
I chuckled at the joke.
"You must have kids," I said after a moment. "I remember when I used to tease my kids with awful jokes like that."
"Both are grown up and serving in the Federated Suns military," he replied. "While I wished for them to follow in my footsteps, this isn't quite what I meant."
"You served?" I asked.
"Qualified as a Mechwarrior," Ford shrugged. "But that never appealed to me, so I served in the logistical corps. My son, on the other hand, decided to become what I did not, and is making good use of the family's Blackjack."
"And your other kid?" I asked.
"She's jump infantry," he shook his head. "She always did love the adrenaline rush of doing the impossible or dangerous," he smiled. "But they still find ways to send me letters, despite my travels, and I'm so proud of what they've decided to do in life. I just wish that their mother was still alive to witness it."
"Well," I patted the other man on the back. "If they ever want a job after their service is up, and don't decide to go with IE, they'll have a place here in the Marksman."
–
–
About an hour or so after we put in the call, one of our flatbeds drove up, the primitive 265 Fusion engine fueled up and ready to go as we hooked it into the power grid that was underneath our feet.
"This should provide the surrounding buildings with enough power to function," the Civil-turned combat engineer explained as he finished hooking up the massive power conduits. "We'll have power as long as she stays fuelled up. Now, we could provide power to the rest of the city, but we'd need two or three 200 rated reactors to power the whole thing."
"We should only need one section at a time," Doctor Ford thanked the engineer before turning to the city center. "Now, let's see what awaits us in the belly of the beast."
umm....you're sending everyone to hell...gotcha.
Chapter 42
MarkWarrior
Well-known member
Chapter 42
Date: May 22, 3003
Location: Abandoned World, Codenamed Eidolon
"I want extra generators brought in and set up here, here, and here," Ford began to organize the work sit. "I fully expect for us to find more data centers in those locations if they exist."
"I take it there was something interesting?" I asked, taking a sip of my coffee.
"Yes!" Ford turned to me, a manic glint in his eyes. "In fact, I believe there is some that will assist in your endeavors."
"Oh?" I raised an eyebrow. "I'm listening."
"Well, while most of the data here will take time to sort through, I did manage to go through some of it last night," he dug through a stack of papers before handing a folder to me. "Look it over later, but I think it'll be useful for you."
"Thanks," I tucked the folder away into a backpack. "Anything else interesting come up through the night?"
"They died to some sort of accidental bioweapon," the Doctor held up another folder. "Seems that they had some scientists with them, and they continued their work in secret."
"Do I need to start Quarantine procedures?" my coffee cup creaked as my hand tightened around it.
"No," Ford shook his head. "While bacteria and other diseases can lay dormant for years, most wouldn't be able to hang around for over two hundred years. I also had our people who specialize in such things go over everything to confirm that information. We are as well as we can be."
"Good," I relaxed my grip around the cup. "I'll be out inspecting the spaceport if you need me for anything. And I've got a couple of platoons of infantry around if you need anything critical."
"Go, see what salvage you can find. We will be here for a few months regardless," Ford waved me away. "Just make us aware if you are able to find any data that may point in the direction anyone may have fled or that may lead to what happened fully here."
Date: May 24, 3003
"So, how did they manage to get their hands on these?" I asked, my hands on my hips as I looked out at the small fleet of old dropships and dropshuttles scattered across the ferrocrete spaceport.
"Well," a nearby Ensign replied. "The 'Modern' version of the DRoST was made in 2480, or something around that time. And the Reunification Wars weren't for another century or so, and given the cargo space, and everything else."
"It means that they were sold on the open markets for a pretty penny," I looked at the half dozen dropships in front of me.
"We'll need more time to see what we'll be able to get up and running," the junior officer replied. "But I figure that they'll do us right if we're able to get them in decent shape."
"Yeah," I stroked my beard at the odd ship. "I think they will."
"Anyway, there wasn't a whole lot of recoverable hardware on board aside from the dropships themselves," Hober continued. "But they had a lot of old military dropships here," he pointed out some of the Spheroids that were parked here. "And if we can get some of those up and running, I figure we can either use them, or sell them off to the museums that'll want them."
"There's over fifty dropships here," I responded. "I'd love to have the people to man every single one of them and bring them with us, but we're just not. So see which ones should have priority repair, and what we can do to fix or bring them up to modern standards and let me know how long it'll take."
"Wilco, Major," the Ensign turned to continue directing the salvage crews into several dropships. "Just wanted to keep you up to date."
"Thanks," I sipped at a fresh cup of coffee. "I'll make sure you guys get properly rotated out with fresh crews. Based on what I'm hearing from the good doctor, we're going to be here for a while."
–
–
"So, I'm going to start with the bad news," Sheppard began the briefing. "There's not a whole lot of 'Mech or Vehicle salvage here. We've managed to find some Ancient Vehicles, it seems that the 'Mechs weren't as well maintained or stored. They're useful only for what parts we can strip from them to get them working again."
"I thought we managed to find some artillery pieces though," Naomi said after Sheppard indicated she could speak next. "I'm pretty sure I supervised their recovery too."
"We did get about two lances of Ballista clones," Sheppard agreed. "But if we hadn't found the 'Mechs that we found before, we'd be in pretty big trouble insofar as salvage goes this run for the ground forces," He changed to the next slide. "Now, for the good news. We got a transmission from Captain Frye and the teams working on the Jumpships. It looks like they've managed to get one of the Leviathan's main power systems up and running. So far, all of their checks show that the K-F drive is good and they're pretty confident they'll be able to get the second one jump capable if given enough time. To shift to the other good news," a picture of the spaceport shown on the projector behind him. "Provided that we manage to get the ones that we've picked out up and running, we're projected to salvage at least five dropships from the spaceport. Three DRoST IIb's, and a couple of the spheroids. Crewing them will be a bit difficult at the moment, so we'll be short staffed on the ground until we can get back to somewhere with a better recruitment pool."
"So we've got a lot of work to do then," Peterson said as he studied the dropships. "What's the cost of getting some of those that predate the Reunification War up to our current standards?"
"Some of them will be easier than others," I took Sheppard's place. "But given that we're going to be here for at least six or so months if what Doctor Ford is telling me is correct…"
"We'll have some time," Sheppard finished for me. "But we will need to prioritize what we really need for future growth."
"And IE has promised that they won't be publishing results of their findings for at least a decade," I cracked my neck. "So, we'll be able to come back and grab whatever we might have missed the first time around."
"What do we want to take with us?" Paige asked. "We can afford to be a bit picky here. We don't have to worry about logistical pressure as much as a lot of merc units on account of the Phoenix."
"Personally," I highlighted the Aerodynes. "I want the DroST. I think they'll be good for infantry deployment."
"They do have pretty big cargo holds," Peterson agreed. "I kinda want the Jumbo," He pointed out the lone Spheroid that towered over the others. "Sure, we've got a lot of cargo space on the Phoenix, but I'd rather not put all of our eggs into one basket. And besides, the big girl can't land. So we can use the Jumbo as a cargo ship to transfer whatever we need from the cargo holds to the surface."
The other officers agreed with Peterson before each speaking in turn on what they'd like to try and salvage and recover.
"Hold it," I held up a hand. "The Jumbo is the only thing that's on the list for certain at the moment," I wrote it down on a notebook. "So, now we'll go through the pros and cons of all the others before making a decision on which ones we want to focus on."
Date: June 27, 3003
"You said that you had an idea?" I spoke to Doctor Rogers.
"Yes," she flipped through the file folder that Ford had handed me over a month ago. "This research holds the key to something that people have been trying to crack for centuries. And now that I can see it, it's so plainly obvious that it makes us all look like fools!"
She stood up and began pacing behind her desk.
"So, put it for me in layman's terms," I said after a minute. "I'm smart, and I know enough to maintain a dropship, or even a jumpship, but I'm not an inventor or an engineer."
"These researchers had been working towards localized miniature fusion on a scale that's miniscule in comparison to today's reactors. She flipped to a section with diagrams and equations scribbled all over it. "It'll take us time to understand the equations and the shorthand, but they were close to a breakthrough that would allow someone to shrink a fusion reactor to under a ton in mass. Now, it wouldn't last for near as long as a 'Mech's reactor without refueling but given the benefits."
"It means that you could do something like," I smiled. "Mount it onto a powered exoskeleton?"
"Maybe in the future," she muttered. "But the applications are so much broader than that once we've managed to get the technology refined to a level that would satisfy me."
"I'll take your word for it," I smiled. "Now, I've got some more work to do if you don't need me for anything else."
"No, I just wanted to let you know that I'll be keeping the job," Rogers smirked. "As long as I keep getting to work on interesting things like this, you can count on me to keep the rest of the crazy people in line."
"You got it," I shook her hand before heading out.
"Maybe I should reveal something else soon," I muttered as I stroked my beard. "Would be nice to have a chance against the Clans in fifty years or so."
But all of that was for another day. For now, there was plenty of work to be done before the folks from Interstellar Expeditions were satisfied and willing to leave the goldmine of a system that they had found.
Date: May 22, 3003
Location: Abandoned World, Codenamed Eidolon
"I want extra generators brought in and set up here, here, and here," Ford began to organize the work sit. "I fully expect for us to find more data centers in those locations if they exist."
"I take it there was something interesting?" I asked, taking a sip of my coffee.
"Yes!" Ford turned to me, a manic glint in his eyes. "In fact, I believe there is some that will assist in your endeavors."
"Oh?" I raised an eyebrow. "I'm listening."
"Well, while most of the data here will take time to sort through, I did manage to go through some of it last night," he dug through a stack of papers before handing a folder to me. "Look it over later, but I think it'll be useful for you."
"Thanks," I tucked the folder away into a backpack. "Anything else interesting come up through the night?"
"They died to some sort of accidental bioweapon," the Doctor held up another folder. "Seems that they had some scientists with them, and they continued their work in secret."
"Do I need to start Quarantine procedures?" my coffee cup creaked as my hand tightened around it.
"No," Ford shook his head. "While bacteria and other diseases can lay dormant for years, most wouldn't be able to hang around for over two hundred years. I also had our people who specialize in such things go over everything to confirm that information. We are as well as we can be."
"Good," I relaxed my grip around the cup. "I'll be out inspecting the spaceport if you need me for anything. And I've got a couple of platoons of infantry around if you need anything critical."
"Go, see what salvage you can find. We will be here for a few months regardless," Ford waved me away. "Just make us aware if you are able to find any data that may point in the direction anyone may have fled or that may lead to what happened fully here."
Date: May 24, 3003
"So, how did they manage to get their hands on these?" I asked, my hands on my hips as I looked out at the small fleet of old dropships and dropshuttles scattered across the ferrocrete spaceport.
"Well," a nearby Ensign replied. "The 'Modern' version of the DRoST was made in 2480, or something around that time. And the Reunification Wars weren't for another century or so, and given the cargo space, and everything else."
"It means that they were sold on the open markets for a pretty penny," I looked at the half dozen dropships in front of me.
"We'll need more time to see what we'll be able to get up and running," the junior officer replied. "But I figure that they'll do us right if we're able to get them in decent shape."
"Yeah," I stroked my beard at the odd ship. "I think they will."
"Anyway, there wasn't a whole lot of recoverable hardware on board aside from the dropships themselves," Hober continued. "But they had a lot of old military dropships here," he pointed out some of the Spheroids that were parked here. "And if we can get some of those up and running, I figure we can either use them, or sell them off to the museums that'll want them."
"There's over fifty dropships here," I responded. "I'd love to have the people to man every single one of them and bring them with us, but we're just not. So see which ones should have priority repair, and what we can do to fix or bring them up to modern standards and let me know how long it'll take."
"Wilco, Major," the Ensign turned to continue directing the salvage crews into several dropships. "Just wanted to keep you up to date."
"Thanks," I sipped at a fresh cup of coffee. "I'll make sure you guys get properly rotated out with fresh crews. Based on what I'm hearing from the good doctor, we're going to be here for a while."
–
–
"So, I'm going to start with the bad news," Sheppard began the briefing. "There's not a whole lot of 'Mech or Vehicle salvage here. We've managed to find some Ancient Vehicles, it seems that the 'Mechs weren't as well maintained or stored. They're useful only for what parts we can strip from them to get them working again."
"I thought we managed to find some artillery pieces though," Naomi said after Sheppard indicated she could speak next. "I'm pretty sure I supervised their recovery too."
"We did get about two lances of Ballista clones," Sheppard agreed. "But if we hadn't found the 'Mechs that we found before, we'd be in pretty big trouble insofar as salvage goes this run for the ground forces," He changed to the next slide. "Now, for the good news. We got a transmission from Captain Frye and the teams working on the Jumpships. It looks like they've managed to get one of the Leviathan's main power systems up and running. So far, all of their checks show that the K-F drive is good and they're pretty confident they'll be able to get the second one jump capable if given enough time. To shift to the other good news," a picture of the spaceport shown on the projector behind him. "Provided that we manage to get the ones that we've picked out up and running, we're projected to salvage at least five dropships from the spaceport. Three DRoST IIb's, and a couple of the spheroids. Crewing them will be a bit difficult at the moment, so we'll be short staffed on the ground until we can get back to somewhere with a better recruitment pool."
"So we've got a lot of work to do then," Peterson said as he studied the dropships. "What's the cost of getting some of those that predate the Reunification War up to our current standards?"
"Some of them will be easier than others," I took Sheppard's place. "But given that we're going to be here for at least six or so months if what Doctor Ford is telling me is correct…"
"We'll have some time," Sheppard finished for me. "But we will need to prioritize what we really need for future growth."
"And IE has promised that they won't be publishing results of their findings for at least a decade," I cracked my neck. "So, we'll be able to come back and grab whatever we might have missed the first time around."
"What do we want to take with us?" Paige asked. "We can afford to be a bit picky here. We don't have to worry about logistical pressure as much as a lot of merc units on account of the Phoenix."
"Personally," I highlighted the Aerodynes. "I want the DroST. I think they'll be good for infantry deployment."
"They do have pretty big cargo holds," Peterson agreed. "I kinda want the Jumbo," He pointed out the lone Spheroid that towered over the others. "Sure, we've got a lot of cargo space on the Phoenix, but I'd rather not put all of our eggs into one basket. And besides, the big girl can't land. So we can use the Jumbo as a cargo ship to transfer whatever we need from the cargo holds to the surface."
The other officers agreed with Peterson before each speaking in turn on what they'd like to try and salvage and recover.
"Hold it," I held up a hand. "The Jumbo is the only thing that's on the list for certain at the moment," I wrote it down on a notebook. "So, now we'll go through the pros and cons of all the others before making a decision on which ones we want to focus on."
Date: June 27, 3003
"You said that you had an idea?" I spoke to Doctor Rogers.
"Yes," she flipped through the file folder that Ford had handed me over a month ago. "This research holds the key to something that people have been trying to crack for centuries. And now that I can see it, it's so plainly obvious that it makes us all look like fools!"
She stood up and began pacing behind her desk.
"So, put it for me in layman's terms," I said after a minute. "I'm smart, and I know enough to maintain a dropship, or even a jumpship, but I'm not an inventor or an engineer."
"These researchers had been working towards localized miniature fusion on a scale that's miniscule in comparison to today's reactors. She flipped to a section with diagrams and equations scribbled all over it. "It'll take us time to understand the equations and the shorthand, but they were close to a breakthrough that would allow someone to shrink a fusion reactor to under a ton in mass. Now, it wouldn't last for near as long as a 'Mech's reactor without refueling but given the benefits."
"It means that you could do something like," I smiled. "Mount it onto a powered exoskeleton?"
"Maybe in the future," she muttered. "But the applications are so much broader than that once we've managed to get the technology refined to a level that would satisfy me."
"I'll take your word for it," I smiled. "Now, I've got some more work to do if you don't need me for anything else."
"No, I just wanted to let you know that I'll be keeping the job," Rogers smirked. "As long as I keep getting to work on interesting things like this, you can count on me to keep the rest of the crazy people in line."
"You got it," I shook her hand before heading out.
"Maybe I should reveal something else soon," I muttered as I stroked my beard. "Would be nice to have a chance against the Clans in fifty years or so."
But all of that was for another day. For now, there was plenty of work to be done before the folks from Interstellar Expeditions were satisfied and willing to leave the goldmine of a system that they had found.
Salvage Report: February 16, 3003
MarkWarrior
Well-known member
Initial Salvage Report(Rough draft found among documents)
Date: February 16, 3003
Author: Head Mechtech Jerome McAllister
Well, it's not the jackpot we'd hoped for, but I certainly wouldn't say that a lance of heavy 'Mechs is something to scoff at.
The influx of antique 'Mechs is a bit of a pain. (Especially given how much extra work we have to do.) But with the Phoenix's Machine shops, we're going to be able to accelerate the refits.
So far, we've managed to collect a Gladiator that's been around longer than my home town has been, along with one of the older Rifleman, and that's just what we salvaged from the pirates! On this abandoned rock, we've pulled out an Archer that's only barely holding together, a Griffin that masses five tons more than it should. At least the Thud's basically the same as what I've worked on before. It'll only a few minor modifications to make to get that machine up and running.
There isn't much else left around this area. And I've got enough work for my techs to be busy for the next three months. The armor swaps are just the easy part. I'm concerned with the state of some of these reactors…
It'll be interesting to see what changes we can make once we modernize some of these machines. Even if we do have to strip them down to the skeleton and rebuild them.
And now I'm realizing that this isn't what the boss meant when he asked for a report on the salvaged material. I'll need to scrap this and get something a bit more official done.
Signed. Jerome McAllister
Author's note: Set before the haul on Eidolon
Date: February 16, 3003
Author: Head Mechtech Jerome McAllister
Well, it's not the jackpot we'd hoped for, but I certainly wouldn't say that a lance of heavy 'Mechs is something to scoff at.
The influx of antique 'Mechs is a bit of a pain. (Especially given how much extra work we have to do.) But with the Phoenix's Machine shops, we're going to be able to accelerate the refits.
So far, we've managed to collect a Gladiator that's been around longer than my home town has been, along with one of the older Rifleman, and that's just what we salvaged from the pirates! On this abandoned rock, we've pulled out an Archer that's only barely holding together, a Griffin that masses five tons more than it should. At least the Thud's basically the same as what I've worked on before. It'll only a few minor modifications to make to get that machine up and running.
There isn't much else left around this area. And I've got enough work for my techs to be busy for the next three months. The armor swaps are just the easy part. I'm concerned with the state of some of these reactors…
It'll be interesting to see what changes we can make once we modernize some of these machines. Even if we do have to strip them down to the skeleton and rebuild them.
And now I'm realizing that this isn't what the boss meant when he asked for a report on the salvaged material. I'll need to scrap this and get something a bit more official done.
Signed. Jerome McAllister
Author's note: Set before the haul on Eidolon
Chapter 43
MarkWarrior
Well-known member
Chapter 43
Date: July 4, 3003Location: Eidolon
“Let’s hope they have good news,” I muttered as I sat down at a terminal aboard the Messenger, a text chat linked and bounced off of the Phoenix to the teams working on the Jumpships further in the system.
“Captain Frye, are you receiving things, or is the delay too much?” I typed in and pressed send before sipping some water.
About a minute or so later, the display lit up with a response.
“Major, it’s good to see a message from you. Sorry we’ve been a bit silent, but we’ve been hard at work getting one of the Leviathans up and running.”
“We’ve been just as busy here on the ground. But I’m not sure the stakes are as high if someone screws up as it is up there. Anyway, any updates on your progress? If you need it, we can divert the Phoenix to help manufacture whatever parts you need. Her machine shops should come in handy there just as much as they do here.”
“If you can spare her, we could use the help. We’ve got most of one of them fixed, but we’ve had to strip parts from one to make the other work, and I’d like to have two jumpships with eight collars instead of just one.”
“Focus on just getting one of them up to speed for now. We don’t exactly have the crews for the second jumpship as it is. We’re going to have to be very careful until we manage to pick up some new hires. Because any losses could mean a loss in good maintenance.”
“You got it. We’ll just focus on getting the Whirlwind up and running. Also, hope you don’t mind that a couple of my guys named her, but she’s been a lot of fun to get working, so we went ahead and decided on what we were calling her.”
“Did she not have a name? I assumed that it’d be all over the data logs.”
“Mark, we’re lucky the computers were in as good shape as they were. All of the logs were corrupted and the paint had mostly peeled off. We’ve had to replace Helium seals and a whole bunch of other parts that have thankfully been standard since the first Jumpships left their docks. So yeah, we named her. Anyway, I’ll send a report on the status of the jumpships and the museum pieces up here in a couple of days. I’ll probably rotate some of the techs through the Phoenix for some R&R when she gets here too. The King Henry’s nice and all, but there’s just something about having a zero-g pool and some other niceties that make a girl jealous.”
I chuckled and shook my head at the upbeat Jumpship captain’s words.
“Alright, try not to have too much fun, Thanks for the update. Hull”
With a groan, I stood up from the terminal and stretched.
“Now we get to go back to helping piece together the dropships,” I finished off the water bottle before setting it down in the galley. It was time to get back to work.
July 7, 3003
“Can someone hand me that tool?” Hober asked, his hand outstretched as he lay underneath the main console of a dropship. “Thanks,” he closed his hand around the screwdriver, the headlamp on his head focused on the circuit board that he was removing.
“Now, I need the replacement board,” he set the old one down on a towel that was lying down next to him.
The board was handed to him, enclosed in a static-proof container that Hober gently removed before sliding the new main board back in.
“And one more screw,” he tightened down the last one before sliding out from under the console.
“I need someone to turn on the emergency power,” he told his gopher. “I want to check it before we get the reactor back online. I’d hate for us to do all of that only for it to get overloaded and us to replace it again.”
A couple of minutes later, the red glow of emergency lights began to cast an eerie look in the cockpit as the main console began to light up.
“She’s working!” Hober grinned. “Let me run some tests, but I think we just got our first dropship finished.”
–
–
“Good work,” Captain Victoria Jewel looked at the junior officer. “You’re the first crew to get one up and running. So, you want your leave now? Or do you want to take it after you’ve helped out another crew figure out their problems?”
“We can take leave later,” Hober looked at the DroST. “Besides, I’d like permission to take the old girl on a test flight. Just because everything seems to be working, doesn’t mean that it is. And, we need to make sure that she’ll survive exit and reentry of the atmosphere, otherwise all of our work here’ll be for a bunch of nothing.
“Well, the Leave is there for when y’all want it. And there are bonuses for each dropship that we get up and running.”
“What kind of bonuses are we talking here?” Jill, Hober’s second asked, a greedy look in her eye.
“The standard ones,” Hober gently smacked the back of her head. “You know what our contract says just as well as I do. And it’s a good addition to our already good check. Now, if we want to really cash in on that check, we need to focus on helping out one group at a time.”
“I’ll leave you to it,” Victoria turned and walked away, heading back to the Jumbo that was the current source of problems.
“We could work on the other DroST first,” Hober looked at the other aerodyne dropship. “Given we’ve already got one of them working, we should have an advantage there.”
“Right,” Jill rubbed her hands together. “I’ll go ask who wants to take leave and who wants to help out.”
“And I’ll let the other crew know that we’re not there to get in their way. But that they’ve got a bunch of extra hands.”
July 12, 3003
“Who’d have thought the paperwork on the salvage was going to be worse than actually working to get everything fixed up,” I sighed and sipped at a cup of black coffee as I continued sorting through the various reports and filing them away.
“At least we don’t have to register anything,” Sheppard offered. “After all, the unit owns everything, and you own the unit.”
“Not quite true,” I set my mug down. “I directly own the King Henry and the Messenger. Those two are mine.”
“That’s fair,” Sheppard shrugged as he scanned another report. “Look, at least you’re inside instead of in the rain.”
“I’d rather be out there working in the rain,” I muttered as I made some notes. “Paperwork can go die in a fire.”
“No, it can’t,” Naomi said cheerfully as she dumped more reports onto the desk. “Love it or hate it, but we need to make sure that we have actual data we can use for the wrecks we’re getting put back into service. So this is just as important as anything else in the long run.”
“I thought I specifically hired admin people to do this,” I paused and stroked my beard. “I know for a fact that I wanted stuff sorted and gone through before it reached my desk.”
“This is what’s let,” Naomi shrugged. “A lot of it is them finally catching up to some of your backlog. So once you’re done here, you’ll be able to just do maintenance.”
“And it’s not like you’re suffering alone,” Sheppard offered. “Peterson’s supposed to rotate out with us soon?”
“No,” I sighed, “He got roped into helping some of the dropship salvage crews. They’re having some sort of contest, and his wife wanted them both to help out.”
“Fuck,” Sheppard laid his head on the table. “Well, the faster we finish this, the faster we’re done?”
“Right,” I started scanning the document again. “Let’s get this done.”
Simonbob
Well-known member
There's something really annoying about writing some boring stuff, when you could be making something work.
Paperwork.Enemy of all sapient life.And friend of bureaucrats.
Salvage Report (Eidolon)
MarkWarrior
Well-known member
Salvage Report (Eidolon)
The details of what was recovered from the planet classified under the codenamed: EIDOLON are as follows.
8 Assorted Ballista artillery piece clones
2 Black Eagle Class Dropships
1 Jumbo class dropship
2 DroST Class dropships.
Salvage left behind and/or used for replacement parts.
4 DroST class dropships
1 Black Eagle,
Assorted Dropshuttles varying in tonnage from 200-5000 tons respectively. No specific models were identified as useable for our purposes.
Out of the dropships left behind, we have identified that at least two more of the aerodynes are salvageable, and the remaining Black Eagle will be able to be repaired provided we are able to obtain extra replacement parts.
Estimated time to repair on total salvage… One year six months assuming that there is something that was missed in initial overview.
Total time allotted for current dropships. Eight Months, rough estimates put us at 1 Black Eagle, the Jumbo, and both DroST's, the Artillery pieces can be repaired during transit.
–
–
Reported Salvage from jumpship fleet at zenith point.
Total vessels at jump point… 16
2 identified Aquila Class Jumpships, given their age, even if they weren't in a slight state of disrepair, our technicians would have no idea how to bring them back up to anything resembling working order.
2 Identified Leviathan Class jumpships, one of them is more damaged than the other, but they are confident that they can get one working at full capacity before we are due to exit the system.
Other unnamed jumpships, but design standards indicate the potential for manufacturing outside of that widely known in the history or warbooks. There appear to be several Conestoga knockoffs or homebrewed designs that may have been known in the periphery prior to the Reunification Wars.
While many of our techs had hoped to work on or salvage one of the larger craft, there are multiple issues that arose when repairs were first attempted.
The first of which is that none of our people had worked on or attempted to work on anything larger than an Monolith before, and even that experience did not lend itself to working on the ships that were nearly as old as the beginnings of space colonization. As it is, we are going to take a look at some libraries for any documentation that might be available once we reach inhabited space again. It might be worth it in the long run for us to attempt to salvage and reclaim these vessels, even if it's just to park them in the orbit of a planet or two for people to visit as museum pieces.
In summation,
Recovered in initial salvage and inspection run
1 Black Eagle
1 Jumbo
2 DroST
8 Ballista artillery pieces
1 Leviathan Class Jumpship.
After completing other contracts, we'll be making another sweep when we're not on the clock. You never know what someone might have missed.
Potential future salvage
2 Black Eagles,
2 DroST
1 Leviathan.
Whatever else we may find on another sweep of the city.
The details of what was recovered from the planet classified under the codenamed: EIDOLON are as follows.
8 Assorted Ballista artillery piece clones
2 Black Eagle Class Dropships
1 Jumbo class dropship
2 DroST Class dropships.
Salvage left behind and/or used for replacement parts.
4 DroST class dropships
1 Black Eagle,
Assorted Dropshuttles varying in tonnage from 200-5000 tons respectively. No specific models were identified as useable for our purposes.
Out of the dropships left behind, we have identified that at least two more of the aerodynes are salvageable, and the remaining Black Eagle will be able to be repaired provided we are able to obtain extra replacement parts.
Estimated time to repair on total salvage… One year six months assuming that there is something that was missed in initial overview.
Total time allotted for current dropships. Eight Months, rough estimates put us at 1 Black Eagle, the Jumbo, and both DroST's, the Artillery pieces can be repaired during transit.
–
–
Reported Salvage from jumpship fleet at zenith point.
Total vessels at jump point… 16
2 identified Aquila Class Jumpships, given their age, even if they weren't in a slight state of disrepair, our technicians would have no idea how to bring them back up to anything resembling working order.
2 Identified Leviathan Class jumpships, one of them is more damaged than the other, but they are confident that they can get one working at full capacity before we are due to exit the system.
Other unnamed jumpships, but design standards indicate the potential for manufacturing outside of that widely known in the history or warbooks. There appear to be several Conestoga knockoffs or homebrewed designs that may have been known in the periphery prior to the Reunification Wars.
While many of our techs had hoped to work on or salvage one of the larger craft, there are multiple issues that arose when repairs were first attempted.
The first of which is that none of our people had worked on or attempted to work on anything larger than an Monolith before, and even that experience did not lend itself to working on the ships that were nearly as old as the beginnings of space colonization. As it is, we are going to take a look at some libraries for any documentation that might be available once we reach inhabited space again. It might be worth it in the long run for us to attempt to salvage and reclaim these vessels, even if it's just to park them in the orbit of a planet or two for people to visit as museum pieces.
In summation,
Recovered in initial salvage and inspection run
1 Black Eagle
1 Jumbo
2 DroST
8 Ballista artillery pieces
1 Leviathan Class Jumpship.
After completing other contracts, we'll be making another sweep when we're not on the clock. You never know what someone might have missed.
Potential future salvage
2 Black Eagles,
2 DroST
1 Leviathan.
Whatever else we may find on another sweep of the city.
Chapter 44
MarkWarrior
Well-known member
Chapter 44
Date: November 4, 3003
Location: Eidolon Jump Point.
“Are you sure you got everything you wanted from there?” I looked out the viewport at the new dropships linking up with the Whirlwind, our new Leviathan class Jumpship.
“Yes,” Doctor Ford nodded excitedly. “We believe we’ve narrowed down a trail that leads further into the Periphery. But that will be a job for the future. As it is, it’ll take our analysts years to comb through all the recovered data.”
“Regardless, you have my thanks for providing security for our venture. Interstellar Expeditions will consider you favorably should you need future employment,”
“Not like we did much but post guard and salvage what war material was left,” I shrugged. “But I guess it’s better to have a job where there isn’t trouble.”
“Indeed,” he agreed. “There have been many occasions where pirates have followed us on our expeditions and utilized the worlds as bases for their raids. That, or they harass us while we attempt to dig and figure out what happened on one world or another.”
“So, we’re escorting you to Canopus if I remember correctly,” I changed the subject. “Do you need us to follow you back to your home base after that?”
“No, we will spend some time resting while more funds for the next expeditions are gathered. Things such as this one are not cheap ventures by any means. In fact; most mercenaries would have charged us more.”
“The salvage rights were more important to me,” I shrugged. “We have a nest egg, and the Taurians paid well for our first contract.”
“I imagine providing them with two jumpships didn’t hurt there.”
“Right,” I agreed. “But regardless, this contract allowed us to work on a couple of different issues. We’ve got some decent combat experience. But we needed the opportunity to work on salvage and repair. Even if it wasn’t in a combat scenario.”
“Major,” Captain Frye greeted me. “We’re ready to jump when the Event Horizon is. The Whirlwind is signaling that everything is showing green across the board.”
“Good work, Kaylee,” I grinned. “Let the Event Horizon know we’re jumping ahead to clear the system. Then let’s get moving.”
“Copy that. We’ll get everything moving.”
Date: January 6, 3004
Location: Poulsbo, Lyran Commonwealth
“Excuse me, sir,” a blond woman got the attention of the attendant manning the spaceport counter. “I need three tickets on the next dropship out of here.”
“Well, there’s a Mule ‘Bout ready to head out. But given they leave in the next hour, you’re looking at a pretty steep upcharge. And that’s if you manage to talk ‘em into it.”
He paused as something occurred to him.
“You wouldn’t happen to be trying to evade the law, now would you?”
“No,” the older of the two men stepped forward. “This here’s my fiance, and well, my family didn’t take too kindly to the revelation. My cousin here is the only one that approved, and we have decided to leave town for a short time. Hopefully, tensions cool in the time we are away.”
“Whatever. I don’t get paid enough for those sorts of stories anyway.”
The man stomped over to a nearby phone and picked it up, spinning the dial and then speaking rapidly to the man on the other side.
“Capitan Steyr will meet you at the entrance to the loading bay,” the attendant sighed. “But be warned, he’s a bit of a hardass.”
“We’ll take our chances,” the blond replied as she glanced at a nearby map, noting the loading bay’s location. “Arthur, we need to go.”
Katrina slowly reined in her paranoia as she moved swiftly through, her long legs carrying her in step with both Morgan and Arthur as they neared the place where Captain Steyr was waiting.
They had evaded the LIC agents for now. She was confident they’d given them the slip when they headed for another city before swapping vehicles and heading for the spaceport.
“Relax,” Arthur smiled at her as if reading her mind. “Don’t borrow trouble, there’ll be plenty of it ahead. Just focus on negotiating us a way off this rock, and we’ll go from there.”
“You the ones that want passage?”
An older man in a set of greasy overalls was leaning against a wall with his arms crossed and a scowl on his face.
“Yes,” Katrina looked at the captain. “We’re trying to get off the planet. And we have money to pay for it.”
“Such short notice? I’d not settle for anything less than twenty-five thousand Kroner.”
“Ten,” Katrina countered. “And not a pfennig more.”
“Twenty,” Steyr stood up straighter. “We’re running out of time here, lass. And I’ve a ship to run.”
“Fifteen, in cash right now, final offer,” Katrina reached into her backpack and pulled out a small wad of cash.
“Deal,” the man shook her hand and accepted the cash. “Follow me, and we’ll get you situated on the Ravenwood.”
The trio exchanged glances before nodding and following him to the Mule that was waiting on the landing pad.
“Johannes, I need you to get them situated in the guest quarters while I finish up the prep work!”
“Yes, Kapitan!”
They boarded and were led to a small and cramped set of quarters, not much more than a few hammocks, and a storage space for their bags.
“So,” Morgan said after silence had reigned for a few moments. “What’s the plan now? Because my ‘Mech is back home, and I know that neither of you have yours.”
“We’ll head for Canopian space,” Arthur stated. “We’ve got to break contact with any potential trackers before we do anything else.”
“Right,” Katrina nodded. “After we get there we can decide on where to move on from there.”
Date: March 18, 3004
Location: Bethonolog, Magistracy of Canopus
“Okay, we’ve reached Canopian space,” Morgan sighed, “What’s next?”
“Well, we have to lay low for a bit until we can safely return to the Commonwealth,” Arthur stated.
“I’ve always wanted to go Lostech prospecting,” Katrina offered. “And it’s not like I’ll ever get another chance out here to do so.”
“Or we can sign up there,” Morgan jerked his head to a flyer hanging on the spaceport board. “I don’t know about you, but I haven’t even gotten to pilot my ‘Mech since the ‘Ring. And I don’t want to let those skills get rusty.”
“I’ve never heard of the Marksman before,” Arthur sighed. “And why not call themselves the Marksmen? Didn’t they learn how to spell?”
“Who cares?” Morgan shrugged. “They’re hiring, and based on that, it seems they’ve got machines available to pilot.”
“He’s not wrong,” Katrina looked over the flyer. “There’s obviously not a lot of information on here, but submitting an application and trying to get an interview can’t hurt. Besides, if this doesn’t work, we can always shift to plan B.”
“While I enjoy the red hair for now. I think I preferred you as a blond,” Arthur smirked.
“Get a room,” Morgan rolled his eyes. “Or at least wait until we’re in a more stable place.”
“We need to exchange some currency,” Katrina changed the subject as her cheeks slowly changed from red and blushing to a more serious face. “Then we can print out some resumes and get an application submitted.”
“I’ll track down a hotel,” Arthur agreed as he grabbed a couple of maps that were resting near an information booth. “Then we can both meet at this steak house here. We need some food that’s not vacuum-sealed rations.”
“It’s settled then,” Morgan carefully adjusted his concealed weapon. “Might as well get a move on then. I’m starting to get hungry.”
“Teenagers,” Katrina smiled. “They never change.”
Date: November 4, 3003
Location: Eidolon Jump Point.
“Are you sure you got everything you wanted from there?” I looked out the viewport at the new dropships linking up with the Whirlwind, our new Leviathan class Jumpship.
“Yes,” Doctor Ford nodded excitedly. “We believe we’ve narrowed down a trail that leads further into the Periphery. But that will be a job for the future. As it is, it’ll take our analysts years to comb through all the recovered data.”
“Regardless, you have my thanks for providing security for our venture. Interstellar Expeditions will consider you favorably should you need future employment,”
“Not like we did much but post guard and salvage what war material was left,” I shrugged. “But I guess it’s better to have a job where there isn’t trouble.”
“Indeed,” he agreed. “There have been many occasions where pirates have followed us on our expeditions and utilized the worlds as bases for their raids. That, or they harass us while we attempt to dig and figure out what happened on one world or another.”
“So, we’re escorting you to Canopus if I remember correctly,” I changed the subject. “Do you need us to follow you back to your home base after that?”
“No, we will spend some time resting while more funds for the next expeditions are gathered. Things such as this one are not cheap ventures by any means. In fact; most mercenaries would have charged us more.”
“The salvage rights were more important to me,” I shrugged. “We have a nest egg, and the Taurians paid well for our first contract.”
“I imagine providing them with two jumpships didn’t hurt there.”
“Right,” I agreed. “But regardless, this contract allowed us to work on a couple of different issues. We’ve got some decent combat experience. But we needed the opportunity to work on salvage and repair. Even if it wasn’t in a combat scenario.”
“Major,” Captain Frye greeted me. “We’re ready to jump when the Event Horizon is. The Whirlwind is signaling that everything is showing green across the board.”
“Good work, Kaylee,” I grinned. “Let the Event Horizon know we’re jumping ahead to clear the system. Then let’s get moving.”
“Copy that. We’ll get everything moving.”
Date: January 6, 3004
Location: Poulsbo, Lyran Commonwealth
“Excuse me, sir,” a blond woman got the attention of the attendant manning the spaceport counter. “I need three tickets on the next dropship out of here.”
“Well, there’s a Mule ‘Bout ready to head out. But given they leave in the next hour, you’re looking at a pretty steep upcharge. And that’s if you manage to talk ‘em into it.”
He paused as something occurred to him.
“You wouldn’t happen to be trying to evade the law, now would you?”
“No,” the older of the two men stepped forward. “This here’s my fiance, and well, my family didn’t take too kindly to the revelation. My cousin here is the only one that approved, and we have decided to leave town for a short time. Hopefully, tensions cool in the time we are away.”
“Whatever. I don’t get paid enough for those sorts of stories anyway.”
The man stomped over to a nearby phone and picked it up, spinning the dial and then speaking rapidly to the man on the other side.
“Capitan Steyr will meet you at the entrance to the loading bay,” the attendant sighed. “But be warned, he’s a bit of a hardass.”
“We’ll take our chances,” the blond replied as she glanced at a nearby map, noting the loading bay’s location. “Arthur, we need to go.”
Katrina slowly reined in her paranoia as she moved swiftly through, her long legs carrying her in step with both Morgan and Arthur as they neared the place where Captain Steyr was waiting.
They had evaded the LIC agents for now. She was confident they’d given them the slip when they headed for another city before swapping vehicles and heading for the spaceport.
“Relax,” Arthur smiled at her as if reading her mind. “Don’t borrow trouble, there’ll be plenty of it ahead. Just focus on negotiating us a way off this rock, and we’ll go from there.”
“You the ones that want passage?”
An older man in a set of greasy overalls was leaning against a wall with his arms crossed and a scowl on his face.
“Yes,” Katrina looked at the captain. “We’re trying to get off the planet. And we have money to pay for it.”
“Such short notice? I’d not settle for anything less than twenty-five thousand Kroner.”
“Ten,” Katrina countered. “And not a pfennig more.”
“Twenty,” Steyr stood up straighter. “We’re running out of time here, lass. And I’ve a ship to run.”
“Fifteen, in cash right now, final offer,” Katrina reached into her backpack and pulled out a small wad of cash.
“Deal,” the man shook her hand and accepted the cash. “Follow me, and we’ll get you situated on the Ravenwood.”
The trio exchanged glances before nodding and following him to the Mule that was waiting on the landing pad.
“Johannes, I need you to get them situated in the guest quarters while I finish up the prep work!”
“Yes, Kapitan!”
They boarded and were led to a small and cramped set of quarters, not much more than a few hammocks, and a storage space for their bags.
“So,” Morgan said after silence had reigned for a few moments. “What’s the plan now? Because my ‘Mech is back home, and I know that neither of you have yours.”
“We’ll head for Canopian space,” Arthur stated. “We’ve got to break contact with any potential trackers before we do anything else.”
“Right,” Katrina nodded. “After we get there we can decide on where to move on from there.”
Date: March 18, 3004
Location: Bethonolog, Magistracy of Canopus
“Okay, we’ve reached Canopian space,” Morgan sighed, “What’s next?”
“Well, we have to lay low for a bit until we can safely return to the Commonwealth,” Arthur stated.
“I’ve always wanted to go Lostech prospecting,” Katrina offered. “And it’s not like I’ll ever get another chance out here to do so.”
“Or we can sign up there,” Morgan jerked his head to a flyer hanging on the spaceport board. “I don’t know about you, but I haven’t even gotten to pilot my ‘Mech since the ‘Ring. And I don’t want to let those skills get rusty.”
“I’ve never heard of the Marksman before,” Arthur sighed. “And why not call themselves the Marksmen? Didn’t they learn how to spell?”
“Who cares?” Morgan shrugged. “They’re hiring, and based on that, it seems they’ve got machines available to pilot.”
“He’s not wrong,” Katrina looked over the flyer. “There’s obviously not a lot of information on here, but submitting an application and trying to get an interview can’t hurt. Besides, if this doesn’t work, we can always shift to plan B.”
“While I enjoy the red hair for now. I think I preferred you as a blond,” Arthur smirked.
“Get a room,” Morgan rolled his eyes. “Or at least wait until we’re in a more stable place.”
“We need to exchange some currency,” Katrina changed the subject as her cheeks slowly changed from red and blushing to a more serious face. “Then we can print out some resumes and get an application submitted.”
“I’ll track down a hotel,” Arthur agreed as he grabbed a couple of maps that were resting near an information booth. “Then we can both meet at this steak house here. We need some food that’s not vacuum-sealed rations.”
“It’s settled then,” Morgan carefully adjusted his concealed weapon. “Might as well get a move on then. I’m starting to get hungry.”
“Teenagers,” Katrina smiled. “They never change.”
who are they,and why it is important ?
Simonbob
Well-known member
Katrina, is Katrina Steiner, currently on the run from her uncle. Her uncle is the current ruler of Lyran Commonwealth.
She's on the run with her husband, Arthur Luvon, and their close friend, Morgan Kell, because the state terrorist organisation, Loki, tried to kill them, on her uncle's orders.
In canon, they went off, did some lost tech prospecting( and found a lost method of FTL comunication) before they went back and deposed her uncle, with Katrina Steiner becoming Archon.
She was one of, if not the, best Archon the Lyran Commonwealth ever had.
Also, this is the period that she got pregnant, and her husband died.
Interesting time, oh yes.
She's on the run with her husband, Arthur Luvon, and their close friend, Morgan Kell, because the state terrorist organisation, Loki, tried to kill them, on her uncle's orders.
In canon, they went off, did some lost tech prospecting( and found a lost method of FTL comunication) before they went back and deposed her uncle, with Katrina Steiner becoming Archon.
She was one of, if not the, best Archon the Lyran Commonwealth ever had.
Also, this is the period that she got pregnant, and her husband died.
Interesting time, oh yes.
Thanks !
so,now Mark would save her husband,help,get FTL communication,and when she become ruler he would have friendly space state.
Chapter 45
MarkWarrior
Well-known member
Chapter 45
Date: March 21, 3004
Location: Bethonolog, Magistracy of Canopus
The office was clearly a rented or leased space, but it was clear from appearances that this unit valued efficiency and useability over bragging given what effects were about.
Hanging above a small L-shaped desk was a copy of their MRB License certificate, and two secretaries were doing different tasks.
One was filing paperwork while the other was typing away at a ‘Noteputer, both of them dressed in what appeared to be the unit’s uniform. The black uniform was sharp, with the gold stitching and buttons on the dusters seeming a bit much until the jacket shifted and the weapons around their waists were revealed for a split second before being hidden again.
These were more than just pretty faces, they were trained professional soldiers who happened to also be working as secretaries.
“Ahh good,” one of the secretaries glanced up at them.“You’re just in time, the Major has an interview to finish up and then he’ll get to yours.”
“You can take a seat while you wait,” the other one offered, gesturing to a comfortable-looking sofa nearby. “He shouldn’t be long.”
“Does the Major often interview applicants?” Katrina asked as she continued to evaluate the office space.
“About a third of everyone that applies and makes it through to the interview part goes to him,” one of them replied. “The remainder is split among the rest of the command and admin staff depending on the job role that they’re interviewing for.”
“I couldn’t find anything on the correct size of your company,” Morgan spoke up. “Is there any information you can give me on unit sizes or what will be expected?”
“We don’t divulge information like that until you’re hired. If you were a future employee, we might consider it, but given how most of our contracts have been antipiracy, OpSec has been critical for us.”
“Right,” Morgan nodded. “That makes sense.”
Then, as he was getting ready to ask another question, a nearby door opened and a small group of people walked out, some of them with heads held high, the others with downcast looks on their faces.
“If you speak with Corporal Jeanette here, she’ll follow up with all of you reflecting the decisions that have been made. I’m sorry that we’re not the correct fit for some of you. But we are a bit more strict on hiring for a good reason.”
“Major, the next candidates are ready for you.”
“Thank you, Claire.”
Katrina considered the man as he did the same to them.
He was younger than expected. Most unit COs or owners and operators that she had met were in their fifties if they were unit founders, and were in their twenties if they had inherited a unit from their parents. This man was clearly in his late twenties or early thirties.
His uniform matched the secretaries’, only he didn’t have any rank insignia on his collar or ribbons on his chest. Across the right side was a simple nametag that read “Hull”. But everything else was plain, emphasizing a simplicity that Katrina found herself approving of.
His face was a different story though. He resembled a young and fit-looking Santa Claus, with the cheekbones reflecting someone jolly and enjoying life, even though a serious look was on his face, it was clear that he spent more time smiling than frowning. His beard was an odd thing, with blond, brown, red, and gray interwoven throughout the entire thing. Clearly, his genetics must have been tweaked at one point or another.
“I’m Major Mark Hull, if you’ll follow me into my office, we’ll go ahead and get this interview process over.”
“Please, have a seat,” he gestured to some chairs while he grabbed a small file folder before sitting, not behind the desk, but in a chair directly in front of them. “Now, it says that all three of you have experience, but I have no way of getting in contact with the Nagelring or any of the Lyran Commonwealth academies in a timely manner. So, I’m going to ask some questions, and if you answer honestly, we probably have a place for you. But,” his gaze turned a bit harsh. “Don’t lie. You can tell me that you’re not willing to answer, or that you don’t know something. But I’m looking for honesty and trustworthiness over most things.”
“Now, we can get on with the first question.”
Date: March 25, 3004
“I’ve got it,” Arthur walked over to the phone of their hotel suite as it rang. “This is Arthur.”
“Yes, I’m Private Clair Williams with the Marksman Mercenary company, we met last week when you and your companions came in for an interview.”
“Yes, what of it?”
“You three have been approved to move through to the next step of the interview. If you come to the compound on the outskirts of the city we’ll get the paperwork processed and find you a place within the unit. And let me be the first to welcome you to the Marksman.”
–
–
The ‘Compound’ was little more than a barren field with a group of prefabs on it and a makeshift landing pad with dropships arrayed in formation, a fence surrounded the entire thing, and Jeeps with mounted HMGs and grenade Launchers patrolled the perimeter.
“Not quite as secure as I would like,” Katrina observed. “You’d think they’d have a bit more security around the place.”
“According to what we pulled from Comstar’s public records,” Morgan pulled open the documents they’d printed out. “They’ve only been here for two months, and given they’ve only got an eight-month garrison contract, it’s probably not cost-efficient to build anything beyond this.”
“Especially if they’re leasing it,” Arthur agreed. “Most farmers will accept a fence, but whoever owns this land won’t be able to farm on it for a decade at the least. But he will be able to market it to other Merc units if he keeps the prefabs and fence in place.”
They were stopped at one of the gates by an armed guard, well-made Taurian body armor covering his torso and legs.
“We’ll need to see some identification. And then we can direct you to where you need to go.”
Arthur passed over their documents. And the guard began to look them over before speaking into a radio clipped to his vest.
“Everything checks out,” he handed them the papers back. “You’re going to want to follow the main gravel path until you reach the ‘Ranch House’ and then take a right. That’s where the office here is located.”
“Got it,” Arthur nodded as he tucked his wallet back into his pocket. “Thank you.”
Their vehicle moved forward through the gravel path as they drove past groups of infantry training, and a small motor pool where vehicles were being worked on, in particular, there were over a dozen artillery pieces that were in various stages of disassembly arrayed over the entire thing as what looked like recruits tried to piece them back together.
“Lotta artillery for a smaller unit. I bet they use that to even the odds a bit.”
“I don’t know the make or model of those,” Morgan spent a bit more time looking at the vehicles. “But given they’ve got the tow package? Yeah, they use it to give them an edge. Pirates normally don’t deal with arty, so I imagine they get hammered on the way in, and out.”
“And with the hitch, they can haul extra ammo or maybe some extra hands to rotate out if they’re firing enough salvos.”
“Regardless, this is our stop,” Arthur parked the car. “Looks like it’s time to get started.”
“We’re putting you in with the dropship crew,” an admin person handed Katrina a note. “We’ve got a big need for people who are capable to assist with that. You’ll be with Lieutenant Hober aboard one of the DroSTs. I know they’re not much to look at, on the outside, but they’re slowly doing some refits.”
“No, this is fine,” Katrina smiled. “I’m surprised you didn’t put us through a boot camp experience.”
“We don’t have the time or capability to do that at the moment,” the man rubbed his eyes. “Unless you’re so new to this sort of lifestyle that we’ve got to break you of bad habits, we’re relying on the leaders of each unit to get them accustomed to us.”
Katrina’s brain then latched onto what the problem was. The Marksman had way more machines than people to use them, and while they were being picky with hiring, if an engagement happened, they’d be only taking a fraction of the available forces to combat anything that landed.
“I’m going to be a part of a tank crew,” Arthur said as they met back up. “Where did you two end up?”
“Dropship crew,” Katrina replied. “I think Morgan ended up in a ‘Mech.”
“Yeah,” he frowned. “They’ve got me in an Archer that’s been in existence since before the Star League fell. They claim they’ve brought it up to modern standards, but I’m not so sure.”
“But you’re in a ‘Mech. Just like you wanted,” Arthur slapped his relative on the back. “Now let’s make the best of this and get acquainted with our new positions.”
–
–
There were two identical dropships in the middle of the field, both aerodynes with engines that looked designed for VTOL even more so than others she had seen. And at the nose of the dropship, there was something interesting, a man wearing a mask and wielding a sprayer was covering the nose of the ship with precise bursts of paint, the sprayer switching to different colors as the man manipulated the sprayer.
Mesmerized, Katrina stood there and watched until the man finished painting, then removing his mask, he peeled off the protective layer around the nose art, the pinup standing out sharply against the gunmetal gray of the dropship.
“Very nice,” Katrina finally said. “You sure you don’t want something a bit more risque though?”
“Hmm?” the man turned and cocked his head. “Nah, this was just the first attempt. I figured this was a good way to make it a bit unique, y’know? Besides, I’m Taurian, and this felt like it fit.”
On the nose was a pinup wearing what would be best described as a sexualized Farmgirl, nothing too revealing, but it was obvious where the inspiration came from, with a nuke held in one hand, and a middle finger in the other raised high.
“I’m Lieutenant Henry Hober,” The man peeled off the coveralls he was wearing. “You must be my new gunner?”
“Yes sir,” Katrina shook his hand. “Recruit Katherine Smith reporting for duty.”
“Well, then let’s get you settled in,” Hober tucked the PPE into a nearby satchel. “Dropship crews bunk together, and I’ve got to sort your paperwork out. Then we’ll figure out where to start you on the sims.”
“Simulators? For a dropship?” Katrina asked.
“Kinda?” Hober made a halfway gesture with his hand. “We don’t skimp on training, today’s just a light day. But tomorrow, we’ll be burning fuel and ammunition to get our crews up to speed.”
“Isn’t that expensive and dangerous?”
“Better that we spend money on it now than pay for it with lives later,” Hober replied soberly. “We’re not here to play at war, we’re here to put pirates into the ground while on this contract. And barring that, save anyone we can from those savages. Ammo and fuel are cheap compared to people’s lives. And we hold massive live fire exercises every two to three months involving nearly the entire unit. You just so happened to sign up right before the next one begins. Sorry to throw you into the fire, but we’ve got three days to get you up to speed. I hope you’re ready to burn some midnight oil because we don’t half-ass things here.”
“I’m sorry?” Arthur asked, not sure he understood.
“Hand me that wrench,” a woman barked. “We’ve got to get this Hunter back up and running, and I need you to hand me that wrench so we can do that.”
“Which one?” Arthur glanced at the tool kit.
“Fuck it!” the woman swore, climbing out of the tank and dropping down, revealing herself to be much shorter. “I’ll take care of it myself.”
Angrily, she snatched up the wrench that was lying on the lip of the tank before diving back down into the hatch.
“I’m Arthur Jones,” he tried to introduce himself.
“I know who you fucking are,” she pointed at a nearby folder with his picture attached to the top with a paperclip. “You’re assigned to my tank, and I need you to help me get it up and fucking running, so put on some work clothes, and get your noble ass into gear!”
–
–
“Sir, why are we doing this?” Morgan asked as he followed a man around the motor pool, the two of them stopping at every single artillery piece and lending a hand where needed until they were reassembled.
“Because we’re all a single unit here,” Sheppard turned. “We fight as one, or we lose as one, We take this very seriously. And you won’t step foot in a ‘Mech unless you’ve got a great deal of humility about you.”
“Copy that sir,” Morgan glimpsed Arthur getting chewed out by a woman covered in grease before averting his gaze. “Where do we get started?”
“Well, after this, we get to go help the secretaries and admin staff file paperwork, and then we hit the sims in preparation.”
“Preparation for what?”
“If I told you, it’d ruin the surprise.”
Date: March 21, 3004
Location: Bethonolog, Magistracy of Canopus
The office was clearly a rented or leased space, but it was clear from appearances that this unit valued efficiency and useability over bragging given what effects were about.
Hanging above a small L-shaped desk was a copy of their MRB License certificate, and two secretaries were doing different tasks.
One was filing paperwork while the other was typing away at a ‘Noteputer, both of them dressed in what appeared to be the unit’s uniform. The black uniform was sharp, with the gold stitching and buttons on the dusters seeming a bit much until the jacket shifted and the weapons around their waists were revealed for a split second before being hidden again.
These were more than just pretty faces, they were trained professional soldiers who happened to also be working as secretaries.
“Ahh good,” one of the secretaries glanced up at them.“You’re just in time, the Major has an interview to finish up and then he’ll get to yours.”
“You can take a seat while you wait,” the other one offered, gesturing to a comfortable-looking sofa nearby. “He shouldn’t be long.”
“Does the Major often interview applicants?” Katrina asked as she continued to evaluate the office space.
“About a third of everyone that applies and makes it through to the interview part goes to him,” one of them replied. “The remainder is split among the rest of the command and admin staff depending on the job role that they’re interviewing for.”
“I couldn’t find anything on the correct size of your company,” Morgan spoke up. “Is there any information you can give me on unit sizes or what will be expected?”
“We don’t divulge information like that until you’re hired. If you were a future employee, we might consider it, but given how most of our contracts have been antipiracy, OpSec has been critical for us.”
“Right,” Morgan nodded. “That makes sense.”
Then, as he was getting ready to ask another question, a nearby door opened and a small group of people walked out, some of them with heads held high, the others with downcast looks on their faces.
“If you speak with Corporal Jeanette here, she’ll follow up with all of you reflecting the decisions that have been made. I’m sorry that we’re not the correct fit for some of you. But we are a bit more strict on hiring for a good reason.”
“Major, the next candidates are ready for you.”
“Thank you, Claire.”
Katrina considered the man as he did the same to them.
He was younger than expected. Most unit COs or owners and operators that she had met were in their fifties if they were unit founders, and were in their twenties if they had inherited a unit from their parents. This man was clearly in his late twenties or early thirties.
His uniform matched the secretaries’, only he didn’t have any rank insignia on his collar or ribbons on his chest. Across the right side was a simple nametag that read “Hull”. But everything else was plain, emphasizing a simplicity that Katrina found herself approving of.
His face was a different story though. He resembled a young and fit-looking Santa Claus, with the cheekbones reflecting someone jolly and enjoying life, even though a serious look was on his face, it was clear that he spent more time smiling than frowning. His beard was an odd thing, with blond, brown, red, and gray interwoven throughout the entire thing. Clearly, his genetics must have been tweaked at one point or another.
“I’m Major Mark Hull, if you’ll follow me into my office, we’ll go ahead and get this interview process over.”
“Please, have a seat,” he gestured to some chairs while he grabbed a small file folder before sitting, not behind the desk, but in a chair directly in front of them. “Now, it says that all three of you have experience, but I have no way of getting in contact with the Nagelring or any of the Lyran Commonwealth academies in a timely manner. So, I’m going to ask some questions, and if you answer honestly, we probably have a place for you. But,” his gaze turned a bit harsh. “Don’t lie. You can tell me that you’re not willing to answer, or that you don’t know something. But I’m looking for honesty and trustworthiness over most things.”
“Now, we can get on with the first question.”
Date: March 25, 3004
“I’ve got it,” Arthur walked over to the phone of their hotel suite as it rang. “This is Arthur.”
“Yes, I’m Private Clair Williams with the Marksman Mercenary company, we met last week when you and your companions came in for an interview.”
“Yes, what of it?”
“You three have been approved to move through to the next step of the interview. If you come to the compound on the outskirts of the city we’ll get the paperwork processed and find you a place within the unit. And let me be the first to welcome you to the Marksman.”
–
–
The ‘Compound’ was little more than a barren field with a group of prefabs on it and a makeshift landing pad with dropships arrayed in formation, a fence surrounded the entire thing, and Jeeps with mounted HMGs and grenade Launchers patrolled the perimeter.
“Not quite as secure as I would like,” Katrina observed. “You’d think they’d have a bit more security around the place.”
“According to what we pulled from Comstar’s public records,” Morgan pulled open the documents they’d printed out. “They’ve only been here for two months, and given they’ve only got an eight-month garrison contract, it’s probably not cost-efficient to build anything beyond this.”
“Especially if they’re leasing it,” Arthur agreed. “Most farmers will accept a fence, but whoever owns this land won’t be able to farm on it for a decade at the least. But he will be able to market it to other Merc units if he keeps the prefabs and fence in place.”
They were stopped at one of the gates by an armed guard, well-made Taurian body armor covering his torso and legs.
“We’ll need to see some identification. And then we can direct you to where you need to go.”
Arthur passed over their documents. And the guard began to look them over before speaking into a radio clipped to his vest.
“Everything checks out,” he handed them the papers back. “You’re going to want to follow the main gravel path until you reach the ‘Ranch House’ and then take a right. That’s where the office here is located.”
“Got it,” Arthur nodded as he tucked his wallet back into his pocket. “Thank you.”
Their vehicle moved forward through the gravel path as they drove past groups of infantry training, and a small motor pool where vehicles were being worked on, in particular, there were over a dozen artillery pieces that were in various stages of disassembly arrayed over the entire thing as what looked like recruits tried to piece them back together.
“Lotta artillery for a smaller unit. I bet they use that to even the odds a bit.”
“I don’t know the make or model of those,” Morgan spent a bit more time looking at the vehicles. “But given they’ve got the tow package? Yeah, they use it to give them an edge. Pirates normally don’t deal with arty, so I imagine they get hammered on the way in, and out.”
“And with the hitch, they can haul extra ammo or maybe some extra hands to rotate out if they’re firing enough salvos.”
“Regardless, this is our stop,” Arthur parked the car. “Looks like it’s time to get started.”
“We’re putting you in with the dropship crew,” an admin person handed Katrina a note. “We’ve got a big need for people who are capable to assist with that. You’ll be with Lieutenant Hober aboard one of the DroSTs. I know they’re not much to look at, on the outside, but they’re slowly doing some refits.”
“No, this is fine,” Katrina smiled. “I’m surprised you didn’t put us through a boot camp experience.”
“We don’t have the time or capability to do that at the moment,” the man rubbed his eyes. “Unless you’re so new to this sort of lifestyle that we’ve got to break you of bad habits, we’re relying on the leaders of each unit to get them accustomed to us.”
Katrina’s brain then latched onto what the problem was. The Marksman had way more machines than people to use them, and while they were being picky with hiring, if an engagement happened, they’d be only taking a fraction of the available forces to combat anything that landed.
“I’m going to be a part of a tank crew,” Arthur said as they met back up. “Where did you two end up?”
“Dropship crew,” Katrina replied. “I think Morgan ended up in a ‘Mech.”
“Yeah,” he frowned. “They’ve got me in an Archer that’s been in existence since before the Star League fell. They claim they’ve brought it up to modern standards, but I’m not so sure.”
“But you’re in a ‘Mech. Just like you wanted,” Arthur slapped his relative on the back. “Now let’s make the best of this and get acquainted with our new positions.”
–
–
There were two identical dropships in the middle of the field, both aerodynes with engines that looked designed for VTOL even more so than others she had seen. And at the nose of the dropship, there was something interesting, a man wearing a mask and wielding a sprayer was covering the nose of the ship with precise bursts of paint, the sprayer switching to different colors as the man manipulated the sprayer.
Mesmerized, Katrina stood there and watched until the man finished painting, then removing his mask, he peeled off the protective layer around the nose art, the pinup standing out sharply against the gunmetal gray of the dropship.
“Very nice,” Katrina finally said. “You sure you don’t want something a bit more risque though?”
“Hmm?” the man turned and cocked his head. “Nah, this was just the first attempt. I figured this was a good way to make it a bit unique, y’know? Besides, I’m Taurian, and this felt like it fit.”
On the nose was a pinup wearing what would be best described as a sexualized Farmgirl, nothing too revealing, but it was obvious where the inspiration came from, with a nuke held in one hand, and a middle finger in the other raised high.
“I’m Lieutenant Henry Hober,” The man peeled off the coveralls he was wearing. “You must be my new gunner?”
“Yes sir,” Katrina shook his hand. “Recruit Katherine Smith reporting for duty.”
“Well, then let’s get you settled in,” Hober tucked the PPE into a nearby satchel. “Dropship crews bunk together, and I’ve got to sort your paperwork out. Then we’ll figure out where to start you on the sims.”
“Simulators? For a dropship?” Katrina asked.
“Kinda?” Hober made a halfway gesture with his hand. “We don’t skimp on training, today’s just a light day. But tomorrow, we’ll be burning fuel and ammunition to get our crews up to speed.”
“Isn’t that expensive and dangerous?”
“Better that we spend money on it now than pay for it with lives later,” Hober replied soberly. “We’re not here to play at war, we’re here to put pirates into the ground while on this contract. And barring that, save anyone we can from those savages. Ammo and fuel are cheap compared to people’s lives. And we hold massive live fire exercises every two to three months involving nearly the entire unit. You just so happened to sign up right before the next one begins. Sorry to throw you into the fire, but we’ve got three days to get you up to speed. I hope you’re ready to burn some midnight oil because we don’t half-ass things here.”
“I’m sorry?” Arthur asked, not sure he understood.
“Hand me that wrench,” a woman barked. “We’ve got to get this Hunter back up and running, and I need you to hand me that wrench so we can do that.”
“Which one?” Arthur glanced at the tool kit.
“Fuck it!” the woman swore, climbing out of the tank and dropping down, revealing herself to be much shorter. “I’ll take care of it myself.”
Angrily, she snatched up the wrench that was lying on the lip of the tank before diving back down into the hatch.
“I’m Arthur Jones,” he tried to introduce himself.
“I know who you fucking are,” she pointed at a nearby folder with his picture attached to the top with a paperclip. “You’re assigned to my tank, and I need you to help me get it up and fucking running, so put on some work clothes, and get your noble ass into gear!”
–
–
“Sir, why are we doing this?” Morgan asked as he followed a man around the motor pool, the two of them stopping at every single artillery piece and lending a hand where needed until they were reassembled.
“Because we’re all a single unit here,” Sheppard turned. “We fight as one, or we lose as one, We take this very seriously. And you won’t step foot in a ‘Mech unless you’ve got a great deal of humility about you.”
“Copy that sir,” Morgan glimpsed Arthur getting chewed out by a woman covered in grease before averting his gaze. “Where do we get started?”
“Well, after this, we get to go help the secretaries and admin staff file paperwork, and then we hit the sims in preparation.”
“Preparation for what?”
“If I told you, it’d ruin the surprise.”
Lol. Now I can't get the image of Santa Claus with a lightsaber dueling a Sith while a Marauder II is shooting at ATAT in the back.
Might develop it early to get away from all the paperwork