Blood on the Horizon (Reimagined)

Chapter 41
    • 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."
     
    • Chapter 42
    • 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.
     
    • Chapter 43
    • Chapter 43​
    Date: July 4, 3003
    Location: 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.”
     
    • Chapter 44
    • 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.”
     
    • Chapter 45
    • 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.”
     
    • Chapter 46
    • Chapter 46

    Date: April 2, 3004
    Location: Bethonolog, Magistracy of Canopus

    “Why do you train like this?” Morgan staggered out of the Archer and onto the gantry. “This is fucking madness.”

    “Better ammo, sweat, and some armor spent here than lives spent in combat,” Major Hull shrugged as he looked up at the DroST that passed overhead. “Sure, we spend some extra funds on supplies, but we’re gaining valuable experience that we couldn’t get anywhere else outside of combat.”

    “One of those ‘training missiles’ cracked my cockpit glass,” Morgan glared. “I’d say that’s not very safe.”

    “Combat isn’t safe. And it points out a flaw in that cockpit. This means that we pull it, and mark down not to purchase from that supplier in the future. Because if a training missile cracked the glass, then what do you think a single LRM would’ve done?”

    “Oh.”

    “Yeah,” Hull patted the young man on the back. “You’ve got a good head on your shoulders, make sure you use it. Now, it’s time for a debrief. So get on into the auditorium.”

    The ‘auditorium’ was really the cafeteria. Only the seats had been changed up and the personnel had been grouped up into the teams they’d been assigned for this training scenario.

    “Alright,” Sheppard stepped up with a microphone. “I know we’re all tired, so we’ll make this as short as possible. Starting with dropships, what failures and notes did you take?”

    “The Black Eagles lack the aerospace bays of the Unions,” Victoria Jewel stated. “We’ve compensated by packing more weapons and armor on, but we’ll have to be mindful of that in the future.”

    “The refits we’re doing for the DroSTs are good,” Lieutenant Hober spoke up. “ Frustration. But we’re going to need to reinforce the superstructure if we want to continue moving towards the idea of using it for fire support.”

    “Right,” Sheppard nodded. “Get full write-ups finished and submit them, the Major and I will go over everything and decide on how we’ll invest the budget for the rest of this contract. Now, onto the ‘Mechs.”

    “We’ve discovered that some of the parts suppliers we are using have shipped us inferior parts,” Major Hull was leaning up against the door. “We’ll have to start doing more quality inspections before installing stuff like that. If we’re seeing issues in training, then we’ll see even more issues out in the field. Aside from that, we’ve identified some weaknesses in our combined arms work, we’ll coordinate with Brown to fix that.”

    “Alright,” Sheppard jotted down a note. “Tankers?”

    “Same problem with coordinating with the ‘Mechs,” Naomi shrugged. “And our mechanics are in dire need of experience. Artillery performed well though. Their hard work on sighting and getting their maneuvers dialed in has paid off.”

    “Unfortunately, our ASF is in orbit doing a patrol so we can pull off this exercise,” Sheppard smiled. “In the future, we’ll try to plan for one side or another to get support aside from the DroSTs. Now, if nothing else is critical, you’re all dismissed. Go get some showers and rest up. And don’t forget your reports! They’re how we make these exercises more successful in the future!”

    The massive group of mercenaries began to filter out of the auditorium, leaving only a few officers and a blond-turned-redhead behind.

    “So, first live fire exercise,” Hull looked around at his senior staff. “Economically, we can only afford to do this once more for this contract, if we do it again at all. Should we secure a more lucrative contract, we can probably do this sort of thing more frequently.”

    “Excuse me, Major,” Katrina spoke up, trying to get the CO’s attention. “Can I speak to you for a moment?”

    “My notes on the exercise,” Hull handed a notebook over to Sheppard. “Try to finish up without me. Just leave that back on my desk when you’re done.”

    “You needed to speak with me?” Hull turned and walked to Katrina. “I try not to just say that I have an open-door policy. I try to live it out. So, what do you need, Ensign?”

    “I wanted to ask about the exercises, and what gave you the idea for their introduction.”

    “Well, we went back through historical archives to see what we could apply to make even a new unit like ourselves able to compete with much larger and more storied units like the Eridani Light Horse…”

    –
    –

    “I apologize if I’m monopolizing your time,” Katrina finally realized that it had been hours since she and the Major had begun speaking. “I just had so many questions.”

    “Don’t apologize,” Hull smiled. “I like answering questions. If I hadn’t been a soldier, I probably would have tried to become a teacher of some sort.”

    “Right,” Katrina nodded, grabbing her notebook again. “Why the six-unit lances?”
    “For one thing, because we’re a mercenary unit, we can experiment a bit to see what works. For another, it allows a bit more flexibility when it comes to engagements. Instead of a twelve mech or vehicle company made up of three smaller lances, we can field a company of eighteen, or twenty-four. Each ‘Fireteam’ (for lack of a better term) having long-range, short-range, and a decent medium punch backed up by artillery.”

    “You did use a lot of artillery,” Katrina replied.

    “For a damned good reason,” Hull smirked. “The two things we need in order to win any engagement are air superiority, and solid artillery spotting and shooting. ‘Mechs are great, they’re flexible and able to perform a lot of different tasks. But they pale in comparison to a bomb dropped, or an artillery barrage.”


    –
    –

    “So, learn anything interesting?” Arthur asked as he settled back into his shared bunk with Katrina.

    “Yes,” she snuggled back into her lover’s arms. “I think if we asked, that these people would support us when we get back to the Commonwealth.”

    “Katrina, they’re not even a full battalion,” Arthur sighed. “It’s good to have allies, but aside from a good cover, I’m not so certain that the Marksman will be anything beyond that.”

    “I guess we’ll have to see what the future holds,” Katrina replied, closing her eyes and drifting off to sleep.”






    “You alright?” Sheppard asked me as I stretched and groaned.

    “Just sore,” I replied. “Forgot to stretch after the field exercises a couple of days ago. I’ll be good to go in a minute.”

    “Well, you know that you don’t have to come be my spotter, I can always ask Peterson or someone else to come do it.”

    “I’m capable,” I cracked my neck and knuckles before finishing my stretches. “And I’ll be more than able to push on once I’m warmed up.”

    “We’ll start light then,” Sheppard moved to a nearby treadmill. “So, you spent a lot of time with that Ensign the other day. Anything interesting happening there?”

    “I’m pretty sure that that’s Katrina Steiner,” I matched pace with the other man. “If we keep her in our good graces, we might have a leg up on contracts in the Lyran Commonwealth. I’m waiting on Dunham to finish up getting into contact with some of his old friends for verification though. Until I get said confirmation though, I’m sticking with surface-level subjects. Nothing that would let a potential enemy know our weaknesses.”

    “I guess it’s ultimately your decision,” Sheppard shook his head. “I’d just advise caution. You never know where all of the enemies are until it’s too late.”

    “You’re right,” I agreed. “I still think that this is a relationship that could benefit us.”

    “And you’re not wrong, just be careful.”






    “You’re certainly welcome to purchase those vehicles that did not pass our quality control standards,” Anastasia Reed, the local Majesty Metals rep grinned. “I don’t know what you want with junk, but I’m perfectly willing to sell them to you at a twenty-five percent discount off of the factory price.”

    “Ha!” I scoffed. “You aren’t going to be getting more than scrap value for them on the open markets. I’ll pay twenty-five percent of the total factory price.”

    She paused, realizing that we could continue this negotiating game, or she could just make a deal and be done with it.

    “Look, I’m willing to drop to sixty percent market value for all vehicles that don’t pass Quality Control if you’re willing to drop any more negotiations on it.”

    “I want that in writing,” I looked her in the eye. “But you have a deal.”

    “Now that business is done,” the purple-haired woman looked around the cafe where we had met for this. “What do you say we find somewhere for something more… Enjoyable?’

    “I don’t do flings,” I moved her foot away from my leg. “Thank you for your business, Miss Reed. The Marksman will be happy to do business with Majesty Metals in the future. I’ll have our purchasing agents get in touch with your people so we can get a catalog put together for what we want to purchase.”

    “I don’t know what you want with junk, but you’re welcome to it,” her face turned sour. “Good day, Major Hull,” she stood up and made to leave. “Our people will sort out the details. And call me if you ever decide your approach to fun has shifted.”

    “Not gonna happen,” I muttered under my breath as I sipped at my coffee. “But she can dream all she wants to.”
    –
    –

    “So, I notice that you didn’t include battlemechs in the negotiations with the Majesty Metals liaison,” Sheppard arched an eyebrow at me.

    “We need to round out our conventional forces,” I shrugged. “At this point, we’ve got more ‘Mechs and artillery than the rest of our forces. So, I’ve managed to get some Manticores and Pikes that had QC issues for sixty percent of their original cost. Given we’ve got the Phoenix up there,” I pointed to space. “I figure we can do rebuilds and fix whatever was wrong with them. Sure, it’ll cost us some man hours, but we’ll be able to get some solid vics on the cheap.”

    “Just have Naomi make sure it’s worth it,” my XO sighed. “Anyway, while you were out on your date, our Magistracy Liaison stopped by. She wanted to meet with the command staff, and seemed kinda antsy too.”

    “I’ll give her a call once I’m settled back into my office,” I shrugged. “Got to make sure the techs don’t want to murder me first.”

    “That’s probably a good idea,” Sheppard laughed. “Hopefully the machine shops are capable of what we’re hoping for, otherwise we could have some issues.”

    “They’ve done everything we’ve asked of them so far,” I replied. “Including rebuilding some of those antiques into modern ‘Mechs. I think they’ll work just fine.”







    “MIM has tracked down the most recent raiders to a nearby world,” our Magistracy Liaison changed the PowerPoint to a local systems map. “Seeing as that group is the most active in the area, we are activating Clause Five, Subsection Two, of our contract.”

    “So you want us out of your hair entirely then,” I looked at the woman. “If you’re activating that clause, then I want the salvage rights that are listed per that activation.”

    “We’re not doing compensated salvage!” She glared.

    “Yes, you are,” I simply relaxed in the chair. “Per our contract, if you activate that specific clause, then you’re required to pay for every piece of salvage that we find, at market value. Your lawyers agreed to that contract. The Clause that I’m activating is the one that’s supposed to happen when you activate Clause Five. It denies us salvage, so of course I wanted compensation. We can always ask the MRB to settle this,” I offered. “Unless you’d rather us just carry out the raid and leave.”

    “I need to go speak to someone,” she seemed nervous. “I will be in touch in the future.”

    “Seems like someone didn’t expect a new company to know our rights and contract,” Sheppard grinned. “Five pounds says that she comes back with confirmation that we’re to carry out that clause and then leave.”

    “No bet,” Naomi shook her head. “We need to swing by Eidolon on our way back through to the Concordat for one last sweep anyway. I’m pretty sure there was more there than we found.”

    “It was a city,” I shrugged. “Of course, there was more. We just didn’t have time to do a comprehensive search.”

    “Regardless,” Jewel finally spoke up. “We need to get ready for a fight. I doubt those pirates are just going to roll over for us.”

    “I’ll start getting the camp packed up,” Peterson glanced around. “Someone else want to inform the farmers that the Lease is going to have to be terminated? I don’t want to break their hearts like that.”

    “I’ll handle it,” I sighed. “They’re good people. So I’ll make sure that we pay out the rest of the lease. God knows that the local government won’t.”
     
    • Chapter 47
    • Chapter 47

    Date: April 25, 3004
    Location: unnamed system one jump away from Bethonolog

    "Looks like we've got some Unions or Danais parked down there. Couple of Mule's too," Victoria Jewel highlighted the egg-shaped dropships that were parked down below. "We're going to want to ground those before our Canopian scavengers clear things out."

    "Based on this telemetry it looks like it's an abandoned spaceport down there," Sheppard noted the surrounding buildings. "We'll have to assume that about half of these buildings will be occupied by the pirates."

    "Tanks and infantry will drop in first," I finally spoke up. "They'll be the anchor that the 'Mechs use to prevent the dropships from taking off. If you need air support, you'll get it. Same with artillery," I glanced at the spaceport. "Actually, belay that. We're going to hot drop our 'Mechs from here. They'll secure the spaceport while the vics and arty come in afterward."

    "It's not a perfect plan," Sheppard shrugged. "But better a good plan executed violently now, than a perfect one next week."

    "The goal is to take them by surprise and make sure they can't escape using their dropships. Even if we're upset with the Canopians over the salvage rights, I'm not willing to let the pirates survive and keep preying on people."

    "Well, we're not getting all of them," Peterson finally spoke up. "Whatever Jumpship they use isn't here."

    "That's not our problem," I sighed. "Now get to your positions and get ready for a combat drop. We're going in hot."

    –
    –



    I thought about the refits as I climbed into my 'Hammer, sealing the cockpit behind me before sitting down on the Command Couch. Plugging my cooling vest in, I then grabbed the helmet that was prepped for each of the members of the 'drop squad' and settled it onto my head, the HUD linking with my 'Mech as I went through the startup and security procedures.

    We had used a lot of off-the-shelf parts to refit the Black Eagle class dropship Effervescent into something that was of more use on the modern battlefield. One of those things was the drop pods used by Unions to drop 'Mechs from orbit onto a planet…
    "Major," a secure channel was opened by the Archer next to me, interrupting my woolgathering.

    "I hear you, Kell," I replied. "What's the problem?"

    "I've never done one of these outside of the Sims."

    "Follow Betty's instructions, the Star League made sure that the computers were set for these things," I stated as I glanced at the readouts for the attached jump pods to my 'back' and legs. "Follow Sheppard's lead, he's got the most experience in this."

    "Alpha Company, we're ready to begin launch procedures if you are."

    "Sound off!" I ordered over Teamcoms.

    The individuals checked the seals on both their cockpits and helmets, going through the exhaustive list before confirming they were prepared to drop.

    "Alpha's good to drop," I relayed to the 'Mech Bay's NCO.

    "Launching in sequential order, standby."

    The bay depressurized and the 'Mechs were gently 'Shoved' out of the 4500-ton dropship, the unknown world 'below' them.

    My computer showed the calculated fall route and the projected landing for my 'Hammer before the older Star League Era computer linked up with the rest of the unit, showing each projected landing site and path.

    No one spoke for the first few minutes as we slowly picked up speed, the planet's gravity dragging the pods down and the ceramic shell heating up.

    "Yeehaw!" Sheppard's laugh came over our company's comms. "I missed this!"

    "Crazy fool," I grinned and shook my head as my 'mech finally began bullying the atmosphere into submission.

    "Don't lie! You love this!"


    I didn't respond as a feeling of exhilaration filled my head and heart. I had wanted to do something like this since I was a kid and first saw the Master Chief drop onto Delta Halo. And even if this wasn't the exact same thing. It was close enough for the little kid inside of me to wish that I'd brought an SMG and SPNKR with me.

    But even if I was enjoying the ride. I still had a job to do. So I began to focus on the readouts Betty provided me, the meters rushing by.

    3000 meters…

    2500,

    2000,

    1500,

    1000,

    At 750 meters, the bolted-on jets ignited, beginning to slow down the landing as the ceramic shell finally fell apart, revealing the blackened paint of our 'mechs.

    The jets stopped at fifty meters for those of us without mounted jump jets, the remaining distance being a short fall that ended with a heavy "Thump".

    "Status reports!" I barked as I ran my eyes over the wireframe of my Warhammer, noting the slight actuator damage in the knees before stepping forward and beginning to move to the dropships.

    "Ankle joint's shattered," Morgan Kell reported. "I'm going to be limping."

    "Stay at range and link targeting computers. You'll provide fire support."

    "My 'Mech's in the same boat," Erika Lamb reported. "I'll stick with Kell and provide support."

    Everyone else reported minor damage or none at all, and so the eight remaining 'Mechs interposed themselves between the barracks and the dropships.

    "Looks like they came up lacking. Make sure that none of them get onto the dropships," I switched frequencies to the dropships in the void.

    "Peterson, Naomi, you're clear to approach, go clear out the city, we'll hold the spaceport!"






    Lieutenant Hober grinned as his DroST broke through the atmosphere, the mechanized infantry in the compartment were running the last checks on their Maxims and other APCs while a Buccaneer descended beside him.

    "Hey Vagabond," Hober called out cheerfully. "Five Bulls says that my Pinup stays intact this whole op!"

    "I'll take that action!" the other aerodyne replied. "I think that Farm Girl's going down!"

    "Guess we'll find out," Hober chuckled. "Let's go!"

    The two dropships being used for this op began their run, both Wardog and Hitman Squadrons falling into escort positions as they moved toward the ground.

    "Breaking pattern," Blaze reported. "Looks like we've got some air-breathers around here. Moving to engage."

    Wardog shifted to go deal with the approaching jets while Hober touched down in the middle of the town square, spinning in search of targets for his gunners.

    "Area's temporarily clear, you're clear to deploy!"

    The APCs roared out of the bay, the Maxims divesting themselves of infantry just as a lance of Scorpions appeared only to be disintegrated under large laser and autocannon fire from Katherine the nose gunner for the DroST. "Targets downed!" the hidden Steiner laughed.

    "Vagabond deploying vehicles now," the other aerodyne descended and its ramp lowered, a bunch of tanks coming down the ramps and beginning to clear out the city.

    "Remember people, we're not here for a prolonged fight!" Captain Naomi instructed her tanks as her Manticore rumbled through the small town's streets. "Clear out any enemy tanks and move on, we're not here for an urban slog!"

    Of course, when she finished her speech, an Urbanmech appeared, its squat form had been hidden by a nearby water tower.

    Unfortunately for said Urbanmech, the Hunters that the Marksman had salvaged from the pirates had been refitted with proper turrets for their PPCs and rocket launchers, and while half of the six tanks missed with their PPCs, the other half didn't, and the trio of PPCs melted the 'Mech's autocannon into slag.

    Then the few Scorpions and LRM carriers began to fire, the autocannon and missiles dropping the light 'Mech to the ground as the tanks continued heading for the spaceport, the Maxims and APCs bringing up the rear.

    –
    –

    "We've got movement!" Sheppard reported as his Mongoose fell back to the lines we'd established.

    "Looks like a couple of "Locusts and a Thud," I identified. "Tagging thud for indirect fire."

    The 'Mech was highlighted as Sheppard's Beagle Active Probe coordinated with Kell's Archer and Lamb's Griffin, the flurry of 40+ LRMs hammering the shoulders of the heavy 'Mech as it tried to push through before a bright green beam from Sheppard's Mongoose arched out tagged the Thunderbolt's knee, the combined damage sending it crashing to the ground.

    "Mark that 'mech," I ordered. "I've got an idea."

    Then the Locusts decided to harass us, the light 'Mechs darting in and out, evading everything fired their way aside from a handful of SRMs or a glancing blow from a medium laser.

    "Stay still," I snarled, snap-firing my PPC instinctively and catching one of them in the cockpit.

    "Nice hit, major!"

    "Thanks, now let's kill this other bastard."

    The pirate Locust danced through our fire for minutes that seemed to stretch into an eternity before a mistake was made. As the light 'Mech accelerated, it stepped into a hole in the spaceport's flat concrete, the sudden stop shattering the leg and sending parts and myomer into the air as the 'Mech seemed to screech in agony before the pilot ejected. But the seat didn't have a good arc, and the pilot became a bloody smear across the side of the lone Mule that was parked on the spaceport."

    "That…" I trailed off. "Is not a good way to go."

    "Major, enemy resistance in the town's cleared out," Naomi reported. "The Canopians can move in and take over."

    "Copy that, hold positions for a moment," I replied.

    "Glittering Prizes, you are clear to land and begin salvage operations," I contacted the lone Canopian Triumph that had accompanied us on this mission."

    "Understood, Major, beginning approach."

    –
    –

    "I know it's not much of a consolation," Colonel Jackie LeAnn of the Magistracy Armed Forces sighed. "But we're handing you guys the Thud. We're going to report it as being unsalvageable though. I think you guys have done a fucking fantastic job here. But I'm not the one in charge of making these sorts of decisions."

    "I get it," I replied. "The Magistracy is going to be coughing up a lot of money though. This is a lot of intact dropships. And I'm supposed to get open market prices for every piece of salvage."

    The Colonel winced while doing the math in her head. "Well, looks like my budget's going to be short this year. Again."

    "Well, if you're ever looking for a change of leadership," I offered as I shook her hand. "Just let me know and I'll see what I can swing."

    "Don't tempt me," the officer sighed. "I might take you up on it."

    "You've got our contact info," I shrugged. "We never had a problem with your or your unit, just the politicians."

    "I'll stay in touch," She smiled. "Never know when having a merc friend in your back pocket'll come in handy."

    "Anyway, we've pulled out all of our material and manpower. All that's left is to collect that Thud and we'll be on our way out."

    "Lemme know if you're ever in the area again," She called out as I began climbing back up into my 'Hammer. "We'll get some drinks or something."

    "Copy that," I finished climbing. "See ya around, Colonel!"

    Starting up the 'Hammer, I walked the 'Mech back into the Effervescent's bay and locked it down, watching as a trailer backed the pirate Thunderbolt up and into the bay where the bay workers and techs shifted to lock the other 'Mech down and prepare it for travel.

    "Not the greatest haul ever," Sheppard commented as I stepped out onto the gantry. "But the payday will be nice."

    "They'll find a way to shortchange us," I sighed. "But even if they do, we're still looking at a payout of at least a quarter billion C-Bills."

    "That's a lot of cash," he whistled. "We're going to have to figure out what to do with it."

    "I'm sure we'll come up with something to spend it on," I laughed. "After all, our ledger was starting to look a little off after the money we spent on refitting those older dropships. Then there's the combat bonuses and the maintenance fees. Sure, we'll have a decent nest egg, but it's not as much as we might hope."

    "We're going to have to go over the budget again," Sheppard sighed. "More live-fire exercises?"

    "We can't afford not to do them," I shrugged. "Especially with how effective they are."

    "I'll look into buying the license for the training munitions," Sheppard pulled out a small notebook and wrote down a note. "That way we don't have to spend a premium buying them when we can make our own."

    "That's for the future. For now, we're going to go back and clear out the rest of Eidolon. I have a gut feeling that we missed something important there."

    "I'll have Rook start working on the locations we pulled from the Phoenix, too. Might be worth checking out some of them."

    "First, let's get some rest. We've got a few months to sort everything out while we head towards Eidolon."
     
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    • Chapter 48
    • Chapter 48

    Date: May 8, 3004
    Location: King Henry V, Invader-Class Jumpship en route to Eidolon

    “Officer on deck!” Paige barked as Major Hull entered the briefing room, a small handful of reports in his hand.

    “At ease, you can be seated,” the Major pulled out a chair and sat down himself. “Now, normally we’d be going through death by PowerPoint. But I’ll spare you the trauma this time around.”

    The Major waited for the chuckles to die down before speaking again.

    “I have here a stack of the reports from the operation we conducted against the pirates. All of you went over what worked, what didn’t work, and what we need to improve on in our training scenarios for the future. We’ll start with infantry and move on from there.”

    Peterson opened his mouth to speak before closing it and gesturing for one of the senior noncoms to speak.

    “We performed well on the ground but we’re going to have to work on rapid dismounts,” Staff Sergeant Packer replied. “We also need to see about expanding our officer and noncommissioned officer pool. We’ve got a lot of infantry, and not enough officers to rein them in.”

    “I’ll just add that the DroSTs functioned extremely well as an infantry delivery platform,” Peterson nodded at the dropship captains. “They also were effective as support platforms once we had boots on the ground. I want more of them.”

    “Noted,” Sheppard wrote something down. “There were four left on Eidolon, we’ll see if we can salvage at least two of them.”

    “Now, onto vehicles tanks and how everything went during their portion of the operation,” The Major moved the discussion along.

    “We’ve got to start training gunnery more than we did before,” Naomi stated, a stern expression on the short woman’s face. “We have vehicles with fusion engines and the fuel for that is cheap. So next chance we get, we’re running drills on movement and firing at the same time. There’s no reason for half of our modified Hunters to miss like that.”

    “Alright, and lastly, the ‘Mechs. Our Artillery didn’t get to play around all that much on the last op, so we’ll leave them for our next debrief.”

    “If we’re going to be doing orbital drops, then we need to be running simulators on them,” Sheppard shrugged. “Aside from that, we acquitted ourselves decently. Though we should probably work on more combined arms warfare.”

    “Is there anything else that needs to be pointed out?” Major Hull asked. “If not, then you’re all dismissed, go take care of your people and get some rest.”






    Date: July 4, 3004
    Location: Eidolon

    “Those aren’t regular Jumpships,” Katrina muttered as she checked the sensors.

    “No, they aren’t,” Hober replied. “Most of the ships in the graveyard here predate the Star League’s first war with the Periphery-.”

    “That’s a Conestoga!” Katrina cut the Lieutenant off. “Those ships should be in a museum somewhere.”

    “Probably,” Hober shrugged. “But we don’t have the time or resources to repair them and get them pulled to a settled world at the moment.”

    “Any chance I can get the coordinates?” Katrina asked.

    “First of all, the coordinates are classified. Secondly, we’re trying to keep this system off of the official records in case we manage to piss off any of the House Lords. We might need a place to lay low, after all.”

    “I can understand that,” the blond’s voice took on a somber tone. “Still, these should be preserved somewhere, not left here forgotten in the void forever.”

    “I’m sure that the Powers that Be have their plans,” Hober chuckled. “But for now, we’ve got our own job to do. So man that sensor station and get ready to shoot if need be. Just because a system was clear last time, doesn’t mean that it is this time.”

    —
    —

    “So what makes you so sure that we’re going to find things that we missed the first time?” Victoria Jewel asked as the Messenger glided down onto the remnants of the spaceport, the other dropships falling into place around her. “After all, Archeologists spent months here looking through things.”

    “Because they were focused on pulling data from computers and the government buildings,” I grinned. “And I’ve got a superpower that we didn’t have the first time around.”

    “And what might that be?” Captain Jewel asked.

    “Bored soldiers given an entire city to explore and do dumb shit around,” my grin grew. “And I’ll probably throw some of Paige’s Marines down here too. Just to increase the odds of something stupidly impressive happening.”





    Date: July 8, 3004
    Location: Eidolon

    “Sarge, why are we just walking through an abandoned city?” Specialist Jenkins asked, his rifle hanging from his vest. “Aren’t there better things to do than this?”

    “We’re not the only ones walking through the city like this,” Packer replied. “It’s all hands on deck exploring the city. So get used to being bored.”

    “Fine,” Jenkins sighed. “Can we at least take a break? It’s really fucking hot out here today.”

    “Sunset’s in two hours,” Packer replied. “We’ll start looking for a building to make camp in, I figure we’ll be at this for a few weeks before the Major and the rest of the Senior Staff get tired of not finding anything.”

    “That building’s got a bunch of caduceus all over it,” Jenkins pointed out. “And where there’s a hospital, there are beds. Sure, they won’t be great. But they’ll be better than sleeping on the ground.”

    “Alright,” Packer nodded. “We’ll finish up this block and then head for the hospital, we can spend our last hour exploring it before we bunk down for the night.”

    –
    –

    “You guys are going to get in so much trouble if Sarge finds out,” Jenkins looked at the six soldiers who were pouring out medical-grade alcohol onto improvised torches.

    “It’s not like it’s going to hurt anyone, and besides, in the dark, this building feels a lot like a castle or a dungeon. So why not play into it a bit?”

    “Fine,” Jenkins sighed. “But I’m coming with, someone needs to be the voice of reason here.”

    The small fireteam moved through the abandoned hospital, laughing as they told stories and played with the torches they’d manufactured.

    The halls were quiet though, and the laughter and fun slowly faded away as the atmosphere grew somber.

    “It’s so odd,” One of them finally said. “There should be bodies, there should be more dead people, but instead all we found was nothing. Sure, we found the graveyard, but there should have been a lot more graves. So what happened?”

    “I have no idea,” Jenkins shrugged as he opened a door to a stairwell, a thoughtful look on his face as he realized that this set of stairs didn’t just go up. But that there were several floors below them.

    “Dropping a chemlight here,” He cracked the green stick and tossed it down, counting the flights of stairs as it fell. “Charlie, take your partner and go grab the Sarge and the rest of the squad. I’ve got a feeling that we just found something interesting.”

    “Copy that,” the soldier grabbed his battle buddy and headed for the area where the rest of the squad had bunked down for the night.

    “The rest of you, follow me, we’re going to see what’s down there. I want those torches doused and your Night vision gear ready.”

    The four of them plus Jenkins smothered the fire on the torches before reaching into pouches and removing their night vision goggles.

    “I’ve got point,” Jenkins shifted into low ready as he moved down the stairs and into the first sub-basement level. “Opening on the right.”

    “Checking,” two of them branched off to check the open doors.

    “There’s a fusion reactor here,” one of them peeked into the room. “Looks like it’ll power the entire complex.”

    “Leave a chemlight at that door, we’re Oscar-Mike.”

    –
    –

    “Well Jenkins,” Packer looked at the now well-lit sub-basement. “I have no idea how you found this place, but I’m glad that you did.”

    “I just reined in the chucklefucks who were trying to be stupid,” Jenkins shrugged. “There’s still three more levels that we haven’t checked out. “But I figured we’d want to get power restored first.”

    “Agreed,” Packer pulled out a cigar and lit it, tossing the match to the ground and stubbing it out. “Now, I want you on point at the lowest level, we’ll clear the rest of the levels simultaneously. The techs’ll leave a relay at the stairwell so we don’t lose comms.”

    “Understood,” Jenkins nodded before gesturing for the fireteam he’d been with all night to fall in behind him. “You heard Sarge, we’re going down to the ninth level. Let’s just hope that there aren’t any demons waiting to torment us down there.”

    “This doesn’t bode well,” Jenkins glanced at the five centimeters of water that covered the floor. “Ready?”

    “On you, boss.”

    Pulling the doors open, Jenkins pied the door before picking a section and moving in, trusting the rest of the fireteam to have his back.

    “This is a lot of water,” Charlie commented as he looked around the room. “Odds are that there are rooms that are entirely flooded.”

    “If they’re this close to sea level, there should be pumps that can be activated.”

    Jenkins continued through the hall, pointing out openings for the fireteam to clear as he checked the far door.

    “This door’s locked. It’s electronic too. We’ll need some techs to get down here and breach this one.”

    “No, we won’t,” Charlie stepped forward. “This model still exists in the Concordat, and when the power’s been disconnected for a certain length of time, it factory resets. And the default code is one through six.”

    The fireteam member tapped the numbers in sequence before the door slid open, revealing a much larger room.

    “Someone get Packer down here, and the Major too. We just hit the motherfucking jackpot.”
     
    • Chapter 49
    • Chapter 49

    “So,” I looked at the rows of battlemechs. “What exactly am I looking at here?”

    “Toros,” A Taurian noncom replied, a tear trickling down his face. “It’s two companies of Toros.”

    “And that’s not the most interesting thing that we found here,” Staff Sergeant Packer chimed in. “We found out why there aren’t any people around.”

    “Okay?” I raised an eyebrow and followed him through the lit corridors. “Do explain.”

    “This door is sealed for a reason, and it was one of three chambers that weren’t covered in water when the pumps failed.”

    The noncom entered a six-digit code and the door slid open, revealing rows of cryogenics pods, the frost remaining on all of them showcasing that they were still functional.

    “We’ve run all of the tests,” Doctor Janet Hale glanced up from the pod she was inspecting. “This and one other chamber are the only survivors. And we’re finding more flooded cryo chambers in buildings all across the city.”

    “So, what are our options here?” I asked the woman we’d picked up as our CMO while in Canopian space.

    “Trying to move the pods is risky,” She sighed. “And I have no idea how long they’ve been in here, so we’re talking about muscle density loss, potentially ice being generated in the brain, all sorts of potential problems. The real question is, do we have the space to transport four thousand people to their old home?”

    “We sure they’re Taurian, and not Canopian?” I looked into one of the pods before averting my eyes after catching an eyeful of a young woman’s breasts.

    “All of the markings we’ve found show that this was a Taurian failsafe,” Packer responded. “We’re not quite sure what happened here, but aside from the standard issues of being on ice for so long, these people are perfectly healthy.”

    “Alright,” I stroked my beard in thought. “We’re going to advance our timeline a bit. I’ll be reassigning some of you to finish repairing the dropships so we can leave here in a hurry. We can set up temporary quarters in the DroSTs Cargo bays, and make sure that these people are as comfortable as possible. We’ll dock them with access to the Phoenix so that they can have immediate medical treatment if an emergency case arises.”

    I looked at the pods and turned around to look at the ‘Mechs.

    “Load up these ‘Mechs, and get Rook over here to pull what data he can from the computers here. There might be a factory hidden around here. I doubt these were hand-tooled and crafted,” I rolled up the sleeves on my duty uniform. “Now, where do you need me to help?”






    “Easy,” I held out the heated blanket to the older gentleman as he slowly began to comprehend what was going on. “Let’s get you warmed up now.”

    I smiled as the man tucked the blanket around him and blinked, taking in the bright lights of the underground room.

    “How long did we sleep?” He asked as he allowed me to direct him to a nearby table where some sets of PT gear had been left for them to wear. “Who are you people?”

    “We’re friends,” I helped him stand while he pulled on the underwear and then helped with the sweatpants and hoodie before handing him a cup of hot soup.

    All around us, Marksman were helping people out of cryostasis and into clothes of their own, and the somber mood that had been in the chamber while the pods were closed lifted as the people began to become more lively.

    “Sir, if you’ll follow the signs, we have people ready to get you outside and into the sun, and there are others who we woke up that can explain things to you further.”

    He simply nodded and began to slurp the soup as if he had been starved of food for weeks.

    Then he slowly walked through the doors where a soldier began to assist him up the stairs.

    “Doing this in groups of ten made it a lot easier,” Lieutenant Hober commented as we took a small break. “Thank you.”

    “For what Lieutenant?” I asked as I began ladling soup into more readied cups.

    “For doing this the right way,” he replied as he folded up some more blankets and stuffed them into the drier we’d brought down. “Even the Taurians back home would have just left them in the pods until we got back to space. Simply because it’s the easier option.”

    “Just because something is easy, does not make it the best way to do something,” I replied. “If it were easy, It wouldn’t be Black Watch,” I muttered the last bit under my breath.


    “What was that?” Henry Hober asked.

    “Nothing, Lieutenant,” I replied. “Just something I heard while operating the sims a time or three.”

    “Well, it looks like the next group is ready to go,” Hober reached into one of the driers and pulled out two blankets before handing me one. “Let’s give them a warm welcome, shall we?”

    “Heh, Warm welcome,” I chuckled as I held the freshly hot blanket. “Nice.”






    “Captain Johnson, It’s good to see that you’re one of the ones that made it,” a frail-looking man shivered under the sunlight.

    “So many of us didn’t,” The captain sighed, turning to face more into the sun’s warmth. “Take a seat, Corporal, we’re going to be here for a while,” Johnson patted the seat next to her.

    “Corporal, what do you think about our new hosts,” Johnson asked, pulling a small set of sunglasses further up her nose.

    “They’re definitely mercenaries,” The Corporal replied. “Their kit isn’t uniform enough for them to be standard military.”

    “You mean their hardware,” Johnson corrected. “Their uniforms are good, and aside from the beards, you’d never know that they aren’t full spectrum military instead of a PMC.”

    “They took our ‘Mechs, Captain.”

    “I know, Corporal,” Johnson finally looked directly at the corporal, allowing him to see her eyes. “But there’s not anything we can do about it. And given the information we’ve been given, not many of us survived.”

    “You’re buying what they said about the sea level?”

    “It makes sense,” Johnson shrugged. “The water table was always high on this planet. And given the scans that I was shown compared to what it looked like originally…” She trailed off as her voice and throat choked up. “So many people, just gone.”

    They remained in silence for a little while before they were approached by one of the uniformed mercenaries.

    “Excuse me, I’m looking for a Captain Johnson?”

    “That’s me,” she stood up, her legs still somewhat weak, but it was nothing compared to when fresh out of the pod.

    “We found your personal effects,” the man’s rank, a cloth oakleaf was sewn into the shoulder. “I know it’s a cold comfort, but we’re trying to do what we can to make sure that we do right by you and yours. We’re currently getting things arranged to take you back to the Concordat.”

    “The Concordat still lives?” The Corporal asked.

    “Indeed it does,” the mercenary smiled sadly. “Not quite the same as when y’all left, but they’re doing just fine from what I can tell.”

    “What do you need us to do?” the Captain asked, looking for a job to do.

    “Well, I wasn’t planning on putting any of you to work at all,” the man stroked his beard. “But if you need something to do, then you can help us locate the rest of the buildings with chambers in them,” his expression fell. “We don’t have time to give everyone a burial, but we can at least hold a funeral ceremony in front of the buildings that are their final resting place.”

    “I’ll gladly help with that,” Johnson locked eyes. “Now, I never got your name, mister?”

    “Hull,” the man replied. “Major Mark Hull, Owner and Commanding Officer of the Marksman…”
     
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    • Chapter 50
    • Chapter 50

    Date: July 13, 3004
    Location: Eidolon

    “Major Hull,” someone knocked on the door of the room I had been using as a temporary office.

    “Come in,” I replied, setting aside the reports I had been reviewing.

    The door slid open, revealing a frail-looking brunette, her form swallowed by the PT gear she’d been loaned.

    “Captain Johnson,” I stood up and greeted her. “How are you feeling?”

    “I’ve been better,” She smiled a bit. “But don’t let any of the enlisted hear about it. They think this is just a normal Tuesday for me.”

    “I’ll keep my lips sealed,” I laughed. “I’m pretty sure that you didn’t just come in to discuss that sort of thing with me though.”

    “I want to sign up,” she leaned forward, resting her elbows and forearms on the desk, her green eyes flashing in the harsh artificial light. “I’ve read the history that you have available on the Concordat of the present day…” She trailed off for a moment as she seemed to get lost in thought before shaking her head and refocusing. “I won’t fit there, it’s not the Concordat I grew up in. For the others, they might be able to make it work, what with them having family that survived the freezers. But I don’t have that.”

    “I’m not one to turn down a good hire,” I replied. “But is your only reason for not wanting to go back because of not being able to adapt to the current state of the Concordat?”

    “No,” she sighed, a tired look coming over her face. “There are other reasons, but they’re my own.”

    “Alright,” I nodded. “If that’s your decision, then we’ll process the paperwork and get you brought in. I unfortunately can’t just bring you in as a senior officer right away. Even if you do have the experience for it.”

    “I understand,” Johnson replied. “I just have one request.”

    “You want your ‘Mech,” I finished.

    “She’s mine,” the woman replied. “And I have the paperwork to prove that I own her.”

    “We weren’t planning on holding all of them,” I admitted. “But given we’ve got a decent amount of staff from the Federated Suns, we didn’t want to give y’all access to them until we’d had the chance to explain ourselves.”

    “Understandable,” the officer nodded. “But I still would like to join.”

    “Then it’s a pleasure to welcome you to the Marksman,” I shook her hand.

    “Speaking of which,” she commented. “Why is it Marksman instead of Marksmen?”

    “That is a story better suited for a bar and a group of friends,” I replied with a grin. “Because it involves paperwork SNAFUs and MRB guidelines.”






    “Look,” Doctor Adamina Rogers sighed. “I’m more of an exoskeleton girl, but we can figure out how to pack up a factory and load it onto the Jumbo. It’ll just take a little bit of work.”

    “I just need a solid ETA,” I replied. “And I can send you as many bodies as you need to throw at the problem.”

    The engineer chewed on the end of a pen in though, removing it to tap on the notebook that she held.

    “Call it two to three weeks?” She asked. “I can’t guarantee that it’ll be done in that timeframe, but that would be my rough guess.”

    “Alright,” I nodded. “Just let me know what kind of manpower needs you’re looking at and I’ll make sure that you get it.”

    “I’ll have it to you in a couple of hours,” Adamina wrote something down in her notebook. “Major, if you don’t mind me asking. What are you planning on doing with the factory?”

    “It’s a factory that makes Toros,” I replied. “I’m giving it to the people that it belongs to.”

    “As a Taurian Citizen, I appreciate it, but I also have some questions about why you’d do that. Especially when one of the larger states might be willing to pay you a lot of money for the intact factory.”

    “I might be a mercenary. But I know that there are many more forms of currency than cold hard cash. Favors and an entire nation being in your debt is not a bad thing to have.”

    “If you’re sure,” the Doctor shrugged.

    “Doctor Rogers,” I set my shoulders and rested my hands on the desk, my fingers interlaced together. “This wasn’t just my decision. We had a command staff meeting about this. And when we asked for your presence, you said that you were busy. After the meeting concluded, you were sent the minutes and agenda of the meeting as well as the decisions that were made. I understand that you are busy with research and that you are trying to do something new. But that is no excuse for you to ignore the other responsibilities of your position. So, to make you aware of it. We are not in the civilian world anymore. Command staff meetings are mandatory. If you are not present at one in the future for anything less than an emergency, there will be consequences. And if you do happen to miss a meeting,” I shrugged. “Because you are human and it will happen in the future. Then you review the meeting and ask questions so that you’re not left in the dark. Am I understood?”

    “Yes, Major,” she gulped and nodded. “I understand.”

    “Good,” I allowed myself to relax. “I’ll take a look at that manpower list that you have once it’s available. Until then, I have work to do.”






    Date: August 1, 3004
    Location: Eidolon

    “I don’t need them to be refitted to what we have on the other DroSTs,” I sighed, looking at Hober, Katherine, and the work crews. “I appreciate the efforts, but we can do that later. We need them spaceworthy and able to hold people and cargo. That’s it, nothing more, nothing less.”

    “But what about defense?” the Lieutenant asked. “We’re going to be transporting them from here to the Concordat, we need to be able to defend them.”

    “That’s what the first two refits and the ASF squadrons are for,” I replied. “We can do the refits later. Right now, we have priorities. Get them ready for cargo and passengers, and ensure they’re spaceworthy. The Black Eagle’s work crew is already finished and is going through the tests now. So strip the two that we can’t fully repair in a decent timeframe, and get the other two ready to go.”

    “Aye sir,” the Lieutenant responded before turning and beginning to supervise his work crew. “You heard the Major. Want teams Alpha and Bravo to strip dropship Foxtrot, on our last survey that was the dropship that would take the most to get repaired and modernized.”

    The crews dispersed and the sound of plasma torches, cutters, and welding devices were heard as the crews focused on the one dropship.

    “So, dropships Charlie and Delta’s status?” I asked.

    “I’ve got the reports here,” Katherine Smith (AKA Katrina Steiner) handed me a clipboard. “We’re not too far off schedule, but we still have to do a full check of the life support systems on Charlie, and ensure that the conduits and power is working through all of Delta.”

    “You have a week,” I glanced at the Lieutenant, making sure that I wasn’t glaring anymore. “I understand your caution and the decision that you made. But there are some other things that we need to be worried about right now.”

    “I take it some of it is beyond my pay grade, sir?”

    “For the moment, yes. Just know that the more quickly we do this, the less chances we have of something going wrong.”

    “Understood,” Hober nodded, his long legs carrying him over to the two dropships that were being repaired, a ‘noteputer finding itself in his hands as he climbed in to diagnose problems.

    “Major, I have a few questions if you don’t mind,” Katherine pulled me to the side.

    “I have answers,” I replied. “Let’s hope that they match.”

    “What are your intentions for the jumpships that are at the jump point?”

    “For them to remain there aside from the other Leviathan. We’re already going to be catching attention for growing so fast. And I’d rather not have the Successor States paying a lot of undue attention to my unit. But I’m sure that eventually, I’ll pay to have some of them repaired and transported back to known space. Most of those ships are history, and I’d like for them to be preserved as such.”

    “If you ever decide to do such, remember to keep me posted,” the woman responded. “I have some connections that might be willing to assist with the funding for that sort of thing.”

    “I’ll keep that in mind. Now, Ensign, I’m pretty sure that they need you over there,” I indicated the dropship where her work crew was. “And I have some paperwork to attend to.”

    “Right, understood, sir,” the blond-turned-redhead joined the teams and began working.

    “And now for the fun bits,” I sighed.






    “You’re certain that this is a list of all of the agents that have infiltrated the unit?” I asked.

    “You can never be a hundred percent certain,” James Dunham replied. “But it’s as good of a list as I can give you.”

    “So two noncoms, someone’s wife, a mechanic, and the three that I brought to your attention,” I flipped through the document. “Any idea which nation they’re from?”

    “One of the noncoms is MIIO,” the large man shrugged. “Based on behavior, she’s simply reporting which nation we’re hired for and base unit strength. If we ever ended up on a contract against the Fedsuns, she’d find a way to leave and give all of her intel to them. But as long as we don’t have an issue with them, she should be fine. The mechanic is a spy for the Canopians, and the wife is probably working for TMI. But she’s not able to pass on a lot of information due to not having access.”

    “I’m not worried about her at the moment,” I waved aside that concern. “Unless the marriage is a sham, we can deal with a TMI agent that passes along the occasional location information. Which leaves the other noncom.”

    “I have no idea which nation she’s a part of,” he replied. “But she’s passing on every scrap of data that she gets. Oddly enough, while her technology training is top-notch, it was her lack of knowing how to cover for herself that got her caught. She tried to transmit a data package so large that the unit ended up getting charged a fee.”

    “She got caught because of a transmission fee?” I raised an eyebrow. “That's not a joke?”

    “You’d be surprised at how often the little things are what gives people away,” the Terry Crews lookalike shrugged. “But either way, we’re ready to deal with them when you want.”

    “Leave them be for now,” I stroked my beard. “But when we take care of them, I want that sergeant taken care of first.”

    “And you want us to leave the Lyrans alone?”

    “Yeah. They’re going to be our inroad into the Commonwealth later. They might be exiles right now, but I have a feeling that they’ll be much more important than that in the long run.”

    “Understood,” Dunham stuffed the reports into a nearby shredder. “If that was everything, I’ll get back to work.”

    “Remember to get some rest,” I reminded my S2. “We’ve got a lot of work ahead of us.”

    Author’s note: Dunham’s backstory will be explored in a sidestory I’m going to be writing called “Debts and Debtors. It won’t be updated as often as the main thread though.
     
    • Chapter 51
    • Chapter 51

    Date: November 4, 3004
    Location: New Vandenburg, Taurian Concordat

    “Mister Calderon,” I shook the other man’s hand, meeting both eyes without flinching.

    “Major Hull,” the man replied. “It’s not often that I receive a request for a meeting from mercenaries. Particularly ones with such an odd background.”

    “It’s not often that I need an urgent meeting with the son of a nation’s leader,” I dipped my head in thanks. “Thank you for being willing to meet with me on such short notice.”

    “You provided the Concordat with two jumpships,” Calderon shrugged. “You are on the list of people that we would rather have favorable relations with.”

    “Good to know,” I smiled. “Now, if we’ve got the pleasantries out of the way I have a request.”

    “Go on.”

    “I need you to have your people go through this room for any listening devices, and then I want everyone out aside from someone that you trust with your life and the Concordat as a whole.”

    “An unusual request,” he raised an eyebrow. “And one that could end poorly for me.”

    “If I wanted you dead I’d land my troops and stomp you flat in my ‘Hammer,” I replied. “Your people already disarmed me, I don’t even have the pen that I brought with me. So, send your people out.”

    Thomas’s eyes trailed up to what must have been the head of his security detail, their eyes locking as they communicated without words.

    “Alright,” Thomas agreed. “Arnold, I trust that you’ll see to it that the room is swept?”

    The guards left the room aside from the named head of the detail, who pulled out a small device and began going over the room piece by piece. A few bugs were removed and he then returned to his position behind the right shoulder of Thomas Calderon.

    “Alright, what is so important that you needed to close off the room?”

    “This,” I opened a small backpack and tossed a .

    “Eidolon?” Thomas read the top of the folder. “Doesn’t that mean ghost?”

    “Something like that,” I leaned back in my chair. “Now read the damned thing.”

    –
    –

    “You’re fucking with me,” Thomas threw the folder down onto the table and stood up, a furious expression on his face.

    “Nope,” I replied. “Not even a little bit. So, I want to meet with the Protector. And I’d like that meeting soon if at all possible.”

    “Right,” Thomas took a deep breath. “I need proof. It’s not enough to take you at your word. Take me to them. I need to see with my own eyes that they’re real.”

    “That, I can arrange,” I locked eyes with him. “But I want your word that you’ll allow me to meet with the Protector.”

    “If what you say is true, then you don’t have to worry about meeting Mother, you’ve got to worry about having to deal with the rest of the bureaucrats along with her. Regardless, I wish to see your proof. Sooner, rather then later.”






    “Thomas,” I pulled the man’s attention away from the Talos and Toros that he was looking up at, an expression of awe on his face. “The ‘Mechs are cool and all, but this is the important bit.”

    I opened the door to the next bay, the lighting shining and showing the small apartments that we had hastily built for the people we had rescued. Each not much larger than a hundred square feet, but enough for people to have some smattering of privacy.

    “There are around three thousand of them,” I told Thomas. “They’ve been on board dropships for the last two months, so I’d appreciate it if you could find somewhere to house them. If I have to break up another fight over someone taking too long in the bathroom, I’m going to shoot someone.”

    “Major!” The redheaded woman stepped up and saluted me. “Please tell me that it’s time to disembark,” her eyes were pleading with me.

    “Johnson,” I returned the salute, noting that she had put on some proper weight and muscle again even with the limited rations that we’d been on. “This is Thomas Calderon, I’m hoping that he can help us out with that.”

    “I’ll see what I can do,” Thomas turned and looked around the area, his cybernetic eye seeming to focus on something in the distance for a moment. “Let me make contact with the people who can actually make these sorts of decisions.”

    “Keep it as self contained as possible,” I cautioned. “For now, I’m going to be leasing some land and putting up prefabs, I need to get these people some space.”

    “I’ll see if I can get some help routed to you. Just keep me appraised of any decisions that are made.”

    “You got it,” I shook his hand. “A pleasure doing business with you, Mister Calderon.”

    –
    –

    Date: November 20, 3004
    Location: Taurus Zenith point

    “And you’re absolutely certain that this is accurate,” Zarantha asked, the report on the table in front of her.

    “I witnessed it with my own eyes,” Thomas replied. “But he refuses to discuss anything beyond returning the citizens without you present.”

    “Alright,” Zarantha tapped the table with a yellow highlighter that she’d been using on the report. “We can discuss what we are wiling to offer this mercenary while we’re on our way back to New Vandenburg.”

    “We’ll need to transfer to another Jumpship with a Lithium-Fusion battery,” Thomas sighed. “We burned both charges to make it here in a timely manner.”

    “We will do what we must. Regardless of what they ask for, if we manage to acquire the Toros it will be a boon to morale and probably recruitment for the military as well.”

    “I’ll begin the transfer,” Thomas stood up. “I wrote up notes on the report, they should be attached at the end. You should go over it and see what TMI thought about the unit prior to this incident.”





    Date: December 16, 3004
    Location: (Marksman temporary base and housing), New Vandenburg, Taurian Concordat

    “Protector Calderon,” Major Hull shook her hand, his hair and beard still looking damp. “Sorry for the late arrival, I was out on an infantry training exercise when you arrived.”

    “I understand,” she smiled in response. “I was told that you would only negotiate with the Protector. Well,” she spread her arms out. “Here I am.”

    “Dunham,” the Major turned and spoke to a large man, a hurried whisper sending him out of the room. “He’s securing the area from any potential eavesdroppers.”

    The man then pulled out a biometrically secured lock box, his hand allowing the box to open before a small stack of papers were lifted out.

    “We didn’t just find a bunch of civilians and ‘Mechs,” the man leaned forward, the intensity of his gaze drawing her in. “No, we found something far more valuable.”

    He set the papers down and slid them over to her before reaching back into the lock box and pulling out a data core, causing her to snap her attention to it.

    “Dare I ask what that is?” Zarantha’s eyes shifted to follow the data core, her adrenaline spiking and driving her heart rate up.

    “It’s not a Star League Computer core,” the Major shook his head. “But it’s something that might be a bit more valuable, especially to the Concordat. No, this is a core that’s about you, and your history. I haven’t been over the entire thing, though I did make copies. But it looks like it has the full sum of knowledge that the Concordat possessed prior to the Star League coming and subduing y’all for the first time. And, regardless of what you decide insofar as negotiations go, this is yours.”

    The man then set down a priceless artifact, the weight of the knowledge sitting on the table and Zarantha felt something inside of her snap.

    “If you’re handing me this, then what do you want? Money? Fame? A royal fucking title?” She felt her face burn with rage. “No one does anything for free.”

    “I want my dropships refit to my standards,” he shrugged. “And I want a safe haven for me and mine for as long as the Concordat exists. And, you’re going to want to find a place to put the factory.”

    “What factory?” Zarantha closed her eyes and took a deep breath before slowly exhaling. “Wait, stop, is there anything else that you’re going to drop into my lap that’s going to make me have to scramble my intel people>

    “The factory that manufactured the Toros that we brought with us, of course,” the insufferable mercenary smirked. “It’s not an Automated thing by any means, but it’s easier to maintain, and can be modified to whatever you need. And no, nothing else I can think of at the moment. That should be everything.”

    “You, stay there,” Zarantha pointed at Major Hull. “Don’t move.”

    Zarantha bolted up out of her chair and left the room, grabbing her security detail and her son before returning to the conference room, finding the mercenary tidying up a small stack of papers.

    “Gentlemen, we have a lot of work to do. Thomas,” Zarantha handed the core to her son. “This is more valuable than both of our lives. Get with TMI, and plant this in the wreckage of the old WarWorks ruins. Major, you’ve got your deal. We’ll refit your dropships, Jumpships, and whatever else you want. But you’re going to need to bring the factory to Taurus. We can work out the precise details once we’re on Taurus and in a location that I trust. Subaltern Francis, you’re going to grab some passenger dropships, I want the scientists and all of these people relocated to Taurus.”


    Everyone simply stopped and stared at the animated woman.

    “Did I fucking stutter, people? Move it, now!”


    Author's Note: Sometimes you have to break your own promise to yourself because it was just too much fun...
     
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    • Chapter 52
    • Chapter 52

    Date: February 8, 3005
    Location: Taurus, Taurian Concordat


    "Your report is well put together," Precentor Kooper flipped through the ROM agent's report. "You're certain that they have not stumbled upon anything that threatens the Holy Shroud?"

    "No," Jones shook her head. "It was old material from the Age of War and Reunification War. Nothing that we would consider important. Even the information that I was able to glimpse from the data we recovered from the lost colonists was nothing that would be considered important."

    "I will have our ROM agents begin looking into anything that you may have missed."

    "Then I will continue my surveillance and continue to transmit my reports."

    "Thank you for your work," Kooper stood up and shook the other woman's hand. "Please have my secretary send in the next appointment."

    "Yes, Precentor," Staff Sergeant Jones gave a small bow. "The light of Blake guide you."

    The door slid open and the ROM field agent left the room, a robed Adept entering as she left.

    "Adept," the Precentor inclined her head and indicated for him to take a seat. "Your report."

    "The Taurian Ministry of Intelligence is setting up something in the old Taurus WarWorks facility. And Protector Calderon has been unavailable for the last month. She's either been traveling or in meetings for the entirety of the time that has been spent."

    "Do we have any agents embedded with the group that is around the Protector or the team in the facility?"

    "No, Precentor," The adept shook his head. "TMI leaks like a sieve, but in this case, they're only leaking information that they want others to know."

    "Could we aid them in removing some of the foreign agents that are trying to infiltrate?" Kooper asked. "I believe that we could set up the Concordat as a foil to the Federated Suns and the Capellan Confederation."

    "I would request that you clear that with Precentor Rom before we attempt to do anything like that. There are many things that could go wrong in that scenario, and given there are other groups that require our attention at the moment."

    "I am aware of the investigations into the Wolf's Dragoons," Kooper acknowledged. "I would not divert the resources that the Precentor Rom has designated for that investigation."

    "Send a message and get confirmation. Until then, I will merely have our local agents observe and report."







    Date: February 10, 3005
    Location: Taurus WarWorks, Taurus, Taurian Concordat

    "We're just setting up the factory and feeders in the prefabs for now," I showed Zarantha the engineers and technicians assembling the devices and assembly line.

    "About a third of the refugees have agreed to train people in the maintenance and expansion of the Toro factory," Zarantha informed me. "The rest have opted to either begin writing down their knowledge or to retire in peace with the pensions that we have provided them. Your dropships are set to be refit when the Snowdens bays are free."

    "Good to hear," I kept pace with the older woman. "We're planning on moving onto the next contract once we finish reassembly."

    "Must you work for the Davions?" She asked.

    "They're offering a good contract," I shrugged. "And it's against the Communists. I mean Capellans," I corrected myself. "I know that your people have issues with the Federated Suns, but honestly, you and the Federated Suns have more in common than you do with the Capellan Confederation. I'm not saying to just take my word for it. But I think that you should really look into persuading some of the Capellan worlds to join the Concordat. I think there's a solid chance of them taking you up on it."

    "I am not so certain," she replied. "But I will not be pursuing a war with either the Davions or the Liao families at this time. We have to deal with the pirates and the rebuilding of our military to combat standards before we begin to try anything else."

    "Anything else that I need to know before I go assist them," I jerked my head over to the people hard at work.

    "Nothing that I can think of at this moment. But I am certain that there will be more to cover before you leave for the contract."

    "Then I'll get to it," I shook her hand before walking off to the factory floor.



    "For generations, the Taurians have languished," Zarantha Calderon looked at the camera. "We have pretended to be better than the States surrounding us. But in reality, we have regressed further than could have ever been expected."


    She took a deep breath before continuing.

    "The Calderons have failed you as a people. And your government has not looked after its citizen's interests. We have not secured our borders from any potential invaders, we have not invested in advancing technology. We have regressed as a society, and turned into nothing more than a paranoid shadow of that which we once were. We pine after worlds that have not been a part of the Concordat for over four hundred years.

    No more."

    Her hands slammed down on her desk and her eyes blazed with energy.

    "No more will we settle for being second best. We have the best universities in the galaxy, we have the hardiest people in the galaxy. As of today, February 17, 3005, I announce the restoration of Taurus WarWorks and the rebuilding of the inactive Corps. From now on, V Corps will be shifted to anti-piracy operations as we reactivate the others and begin equipping them.

    With that in mind, I am proud to announce the recovery and rebuilding of the Taurus WarWorks. This relic of the past was a cornerstone of our fight against the tyranny of the Star League. And it will be a foundational piece of our nation again. And that begins with this."


    The screen shifted to a live recording of a parage ground where a company of Toros and a lance of Talos 'Mechs were standing in Taurian Guard's Corps colors.

    "Our nation will no longer languish in the defeats of the past, but will instead push forward into the future. Thank you, that is all."


    Author's Note: I think two weeks off is enough for now. I'm finding that I need to write a lot of things in order to get inspiration for the novel I'm writing.
     
    • Chapter 53
    • Chapter 53

    Date: February 28, 3005
    Location: Artru, Taurian Concordat


    "Moment of truth here," Sheppard tied his Beagle Active Probe into the systems of everyone around him. "You think we'll find anything important here?"

    "I'm thinking we won't find as much as we're hoping for," Hull replied. "The Star League left behind a lot of stuff. The problem is being able to use it properly. We've lost a lot of knowledge due to the Hegemony black boxing stuff."

    "Access is granted," Rook reported as he moved through the snow back toward the APC. "Doors should be opening now."

    The massive doors began to creak open, revealing a handful of turrets that immediately attempted to lock onto the APC that was scrambling away.

    I didn't even have to give the order, and I, along with twelve other vehicles and 'mechs melted the twin turrets that had opened fire, leaving the bay empty of all danger. For now at least.

    "You seen anything on your scopes?" I asked Sheppard.

    "Negative," The man's Mongoose did a small lap of the 'bowl' that we were in. "I'm not seeing anything else. But I'll hold position out here until the facility is secured."

    I plowed through the snow and eventually reached the bay. Stepping inside, I began scanning the inside of the doors, flipping through thermal and night vision modes to make sure that no more turrets were waiting to attack us before powering down.

    "Disembarking, send in Peterson's group," I ordered before popping the hatch and throwing down the ladder.

    "Major," Peterson greeted me as I dropped the last few feet to the ground. "You're going to want to see this."

    There, beside the internal door controls lay a series of well-preserved bodies.

    "Poor bastards," I crouched and wiped away the frost from their uniforms. "We'll see if there's anything on their corpses that relates to this facility and then we'll bury them."

    "Copy that," Peterson gestured for a few soldiers to begin going over the bodies. "That's just what we saw when we disembarked."

    "Have squads begin going through the rest of the facility," I ordered. "See if we can find a map of some sort. It'll help us figure out where to search."

    –
    –

    "Whelp, there's pretty much nothing here in terms of gear," Sheppard handed me a clipboard with the details of what we'd found. "Though we did find out what happened to the people here."

    "Oh?" I asked, arching an eyebrow as I flipped through the clipboard.

    "Yeah, the SLDF took most of the defenses with them when they invaded the Concordat during the Amaris Coup. They left behind a lance and the scientists, I think they figured the AI research would be useful given what they were going to face on their way to Terra."

    "And when the AI malfunctioned..." I trailed off.

    "Yeah. We already saw the results of that. From what we can tell, the reason we only faced a few turrets as defenses was that the drones that were being tested here were carted off by the SLDF to be used for the invasion of the Hegemony."

    "Sounds like something that they'd do," I looked through the clipboard once again. "Alright people, let's load the lance up onto the recovery vehicles, and strip all of the data from the terminals," I glanced at Rook. "Full information security on these. I want them locked down," I then turned to our lead engineer. "Doctor Rogers, can we remove the repair bays and install them on one of our dropships?"

    "It'll take a couple of weeks to break them down, but we should be able to get them relocated," she blew a piece of hair out of her eyes. "I'd like to get a look at that data sometime though."

    "You'll get access eventually," I replied. "But first Dunham has to make sure that we've got our information security settled first."

    "Fine," Adamina sighed. "I'll get my team working on the repair facilities."

    She then left me and the rest of the senior staff behind in the headquarters of the derelict facility to take charge of the team that was breaking down the automated repair facilities.

    "Dunham, we're going to have to figure out how to feed the spies misinformation," Sheppard sat down in a nearby chair. "How do we hide something of this magnitude?"

    "In plain sight," Dunham shrugged. "We reveal that we found a facility, just like how we revealed that we had found the crashed Argo. But we also tell the truth, but only part of it. We found a small cache of Star League materials and 'Mechs. After all, a lance of heavies isn't that big of a deal. And neither is some Ferro Fibrous armor. We can hide the repair facilities as having been stashed on the Argo, and the data from these systems can be attributed to the ship as well."

    "So we just hide things in plain sight and take refuge in audacity?" I raised an eyebrow. "That doesn't seem too safe in the long run."

    "We're not really taking refuge in audacity," Dunham replied. "Instead, we're altering the information that we release to the unit as a whole. Trust me, in the short-term, it will work to disguise things, and if we're on a combat contract after this, both us and whatever spies are around will have more pressing issues to deal with. And that'll muddy whatever reports they try to send."

    "I'll trust you on this," I shrugged. "I'm not an expert on this sort of thing," I narrowed my eyes at the intelligence operative. "But I really fucking hope that you're right."




    Date: March 16, 3005
    Location: En route to Valexa, Federated Suns

    "Lady Cunningham, I was under the impression that this was a garrison contract, not a public display," I argued with the Federated Suns Mercenary Liaison. "We're not a parade unit. There are other things that we need to do once we make landfall. We've got to secure food sources and discuss ammunition with the requisitions officer, there are too many tasks for us to stop and go on a parade."

    "Mister Hull,"

    "Major," I cut the liaison off, glaring at the woman and her glittering jewelry and fancy hair. "I've earned my rank through combat and the work of my hands and that of my unit. We're not a parade unit, and we might be green compared to most, but we've been fighting pirates for the last two years."

    "Major, Hull," She corrected herself. "The governor of Valexa has personally requested this. It's to show the people that they're secured from the advances of the Capellan Confederation."

    "No, I won't be a part of security theater," I raised my hand to stave off the woman's protestations. "My unit is here to perform the required job as listed on the contract. I'm not going to give any Capellan spies a look at what the makeup of my unit is. That's a good way to get my people killed, either in an assassination or in combat."

    "I understand," Cunningham sighed. "I will inform the governor that you will not be amenable to his requests."

    "I'm not here at his request, Lady Cunningham," I stood up. "I'm working for the Armed Forces of the Federated Suns. I'll be drawing my supplies and resources from their logistics chains. I answer to them. If there are any issues with that, you can take it up with the AFFS."

    I began to leave the room, glancing over my shoulder before I did so.

    "I'll let you know when we make landfall on Valexa. After all, I'd hate for people to not feel secure."





    Date: March 20, 3005

    "Thank you for your service," I shook Katrina Steiner's, Morgan Kell's, and Arthur Luvon's hands each in turn. "May you three have a profitable future. And if you ever need a home, the Marksman will always have a place for you."

    "It was a good year," Katrina smiled. "My only regret is that we cannot stay for a longer amount of time."

    "I might come back for some advice," Morgan grinned. "I'm thinking about a mercenary career in the long term."

    "You know where to find me," I replied. "I'll see you around…."
     
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    • Chapter 54
    • Chapter 54

    Date: December 21, 3005
    Location: Valexa, Federated Suns


    “Well, we finished setting up just in time for Christmas,” I looked at the small military base that had been lent to us for the duration of the garrison contract.

    “I think that Lady Cunningham was a bit upset at the extra work you gave her,” Sheppard commented from where he was leaning against a nearby tree. “Given how decrepit this base is, I figure they thought we’d be spending a ton of extra money to repair and refit it.”

    “I mean, they weren’t wrong,” I shrugged. “But we can eat that cost with what we’re being paid. And, we get enough space away from the main city that we can actually conduct our training exercises.”

    “We’re still getting the people used to the Toros. It’s a shame that the cockpits are so cramped that we have to look for shorter people. They’re pretty fantastic Light ‘Mechs, and I’d love for more of our people to be able to use them.”

    “We need to flesh out the battalion with more medium troopers,” I replied. “We’ve currently got a company of light ‘Mechs, and a mixed Medium and heavy Company of ‘Mechs.”

    “Then it’s a good thing we’ve got enough Tanks to flesh out the holes in our firepower,” Sheppard grinned for a moment before his smile disappeared as he considered something. “Seriously though, us finding all of those artillery pieces is going to make a world of difference. The Toros are going to be faster than anything else that can kill them, and can kill just about anything that’s faster.”

    “Use them as bait to draw in enemy forces into pre-sighted artillery zones,” I nodded. “It’ll have to be our main tactic.”

    “But enough of this talk,” Sheppard finally stopped leaning against the tree. “We’ve got to figure out the Christmas party.”

    “Right,” I started walking back towards the base’s gate. “We were a bit busy last Christmas.”

    “Exactly. So we’re going to have to make up for it this year.”

    “Just remember that they’re going to hate you on January 2nd if you go too hard on this,” I smirked. “Especially when they’re dragged out of their bunks for a drill hungover and half dead from drink.”

    “We’re professionals,” Sheppard replied. “What’s the worst that could happen?”






    Date: January 3, 3006

    “Y’know,” I muttered to myself as I watched two companies of ‘Mechs stagger around like drunkards. “I think Sheppard may have overdone it this time.”

    I laughed as I watched Sheppard’s Mongoose take two steps before falling flat on its face, the hands on the light ‘Mech reaching out to push him back onto his knees.

    And just to add insult to his injury, I flipped a button on my left joystick, the searchlight on my left shoulder turning on and focusing on my XO’s cockpit.

    “I warned all of you,” I opened a channel on the Battalion frequency. “And now you’re all going to learn a lesson I thought we didn’t need a repeat of.”

    I then flipped channels to the people who I’d spoken to before Christmas and prepared for this scenario.

    “Naomi, Richard, Rose, it’s time for Operation HANGOVER.”

    “Is it just ground-pounders? Or can we join in on the fun?” Blaze’s voice chimed in from the skies above.

    “Feel free,” I grinned. “I’m getting clear now. Open up whenever you have good shots.”

    “Understood Major, we’ll see you in a few.”

    I powered down my active sensors and vanished into the trees as groups of our modified Hunters and other tanks we’d accumulated moved in, the training rounds now supplemented with flare packages that were shot into the cockpits of the ‘Mechs of those who were still recovering from the week of drinking.

    “You know that they’re going to try and get you back for this, right?” Lieutenant Rose opened a private channel from her Toro.

    “They can try,” I grinned at the ex-Comstar member’s sigh. “But I grew up the oldest of fourteen. I know how to out-prank a group.”





    January 20, 3006

    “You said there was some sort of progress made on Project Tolkien?” I asked Doctor Rogers, looking at the pieces of powered exoskeletons scattered on tables throughout the lab that she was using on the Phoenix.

    “We finally managed to work out the power source you wanted,” the exhausted woman kneaded her forehead. “Turns out the Taurians from Eidolon were onto something. It won’t be able to power more than an exoskeleton with how small we had to scale things, but it’s still better for the long term.”

    “I know that it’s asking for a lot of long-term power generations,” I hefted one of the armored gauntlets. “But we can’t always expect combat to be resolved in a short amount of time. Long slogs happen. And so does infantry being stuck behind enemy lines for long periods of time.”

    “Well, we managed the reactor,” Adamina gestured to a small ‘backpack-looking device. “It’s about half of the total weight of the planned exoskeleton and armor itself, but it’ll provide at least two months of continuous use before needing a refuel.”

    “And reactor safeties?” I asked.

    “It takes a very specific override to set this thing off,” she rested her head down on her desk. “We’ll start focusing on the rest of the exoskeleton next month. Now leave me alone so I can get some sleep. I just spent seventy-two hours running through tests with the reactor to make sure that the containment was solid enough to be worn on someone’s back.”

    “Fair enough,” I headed towards the door. “Get some rest, Doctor. Your hard work is appreciated.”

    As the door shut behind me, I turned and saw one of my nightmares.

    “Ahh, Major,” Doctor Janet Hale smirked at me. “You’re late for your physical and wellness check by…” She glanced down at her clipboard. “Almost two years. So, we can do this the easy way, or we can do this the hard way.”

    “What’s the hard way?” I quipped, my eyes trying to locate a way out.

    “I have the rest of the senior staff haul you into the medbay,” She shrugged. “You made them all do it, and then you traumatized an entire company of hungover soldiers.”

    “And they’re now united against a common enemy,” I pointed out. “That’s how trauma bonding works!”

    “Yes,” She looked me in the eye. “And now I’ve heard of at least fifteen different plans to get you back for that.”

    “Oh?” I asked. “Got any good intel? I’d love to be able to sabotage their pranks,” I then shook my head. “Wait, stop changing the subject.”

    “I don’t need to change the subject,” Doctor Hale nodded at the two nurses who were now behind me. “We’re right next to the medbay, so now we can finally run some tests and see how things are.”

    “Might as well,” I stepped through the door and followed the signs to the next exam room.

    “And I’ve scheduled a psych eval for next week. Having finally made it through your backstory, I think that you need to see a therapist. No matter how well-adjusted you seem, I do not doubt that demons and other issues are lurking underneath the surface.”

    “Yes, Doc,” I sighed. “Whatever you say, doc.”

    “Hey! No patronizing here!” She barked. “I’m trying to look after you, you ungrateful bastard!”

    “Just get this over with. I have work to do.”
     
    • Chapter 55 New
    • Chapter 55

    Date: February 10, 3006
    Location: Valexa, Federated Suns

    “Attention!”

    The conversations and any activity ceased as I entered the room.

    “At ease, everyone, and take a seat. We’ve got a lot of shit to cover.”

    I handed the intel briefs to Sheppard and Peterson and gestured for them to pass them out to the rest of the officers.

    “At 1500 local time yesterday afternoon, a group of Jumpships appeared at the Zenith point of the system. While not confirmed, it’s believed that this is a part of the raids launched by the Confederation based out of Halloran. Based on what the Phoenix can tell before I had her move into hiding, it looks like we’ve got about a Battalion and change coming in for an attack. “

    I waited for everyone to process things before continuing.

    “I’ve already gotten our orders from Major General Fren,” I looked at Captain Blaze and Captain James Monarch. “The local Militia are low on Aerospace fighters, so you’ll only have a single squadron as backup.”

    “We’ve got it handled,” Blaze stated. “Hitman and Wardog will ensure their aerospace doesn’t reach the ground.”

    “Then that leaves the ground fight to us,” Sheppard said. “We won’t have confirmation on what units they are until they land, but we can go ahead and start preparing killing grounds.”

    “General Fren is already getting civilians evacuated to the shelters. But the Militia is going to be defending the industrial complexes. So we have to take care of any mobile elements. The Militia doesn’t have the ability to do more than hold and defend ground right now.”

    I paused.

    “If we can, I’d like to use them as the anvil to our hammer. If not, then we’ll have to play a bit of an evasion game. Regardless, we’ll each have our jobs to do.”

    “You’re all dismissed; get everyone prepped and ready for combat. These won’t be like the pirates we’ve faced before. The Capellans are a stone-cold military; don’t expect them to make the same mistakes we’ve encountered before.”





    Date: February 15, 3006


    “Wardog 1 to squadron, give ready status, and fall into formation.”

    “This is Chopper; wheels are up, and guns are loaded!”

    “Edge reporting, all systems are green.”

    “Swordsman, here, we are ready for combat.”

    “Archer, ready-op.”

    “This is Heartbreak, following your lead.”

    “Wardog is ready, Hitman, status?”

    “Hitman is ready,” Monarch reported. “Shifting to intercept pattern now.”

    The twelve fighters streaked through the void; the twin formations mirrored as they split up to cover the eighteen fighters that deployed from the Capellan dropships to engage them.

    “Keep an eye out for the Transgressors and Lightnings,” the void of Mother Goose warned them. “They’ve got a lot of firepower in those ack-twenties. Looks like a mixture of light birds and some heavier ones aside from that.”

    “Wardog copies, we’ll keep ‘em on their toes.”

    Blaze slammed his feet down on the petals of his Eagle, and the fusion engine roared underneath him, Edge hugging his wing in her Lightning as squadron members split off.

    “Remember folks, we’re here to get rid of their escorts, not the dropships,” Blaze flipped the safeties on his twin PPCs and locked onto a Thrush that had pushed ahead of its heavier wingman.

    “Pick your targets and take them out,” Blaze squeezed the triggers and watched as one of his beams missed the lightly armed fighter, but the second beam didn’t, and the Thrush’s armor shattered, and the fighter began spiraling out of control.

    “Good hits, shifting to wingman!”

    –
    –

    While the fighters engaged each other, the dropships continued, the atmosphere glowing around them as the egg-shaped spheroids began their descent through the atmosphere.

    “Keep an eye on the landing zones,” I ordered Sheppard. “I want us to hammer them with artillery as soon as they begin offloading.”

    “We’ve got the most likely zones sighted in and prepped,” he replied. “But there’s no guarantees that they’ll land there.”

    “Understood, but we’ll need to play this aggressively; Blaze ID’d some of the dropships coming in as mixed elements of the Blackwind Lancers and Marion’s Highlanders. So expect medium and heavy ‘mechs backed up by infantry.”

    “Whelp, we better hope that they brought more mediums than heavies,” The man laughed. “I’d hate to get smoked by the Capellans.”

    “Have our lighter elements pull back. I’ll see if we can get more artillery shifted to support us.”

    “That’s if we’re not having to fight the governor over our deployment,” Sheppard pointed out. “After all, we did spite him on that parade he wanted.”

    “If he hamstrings us defending his world, then that’s on him,” I shrugged as I leaned over the holotable in the middle of the Mobile HQ we’d recovered from Artru. “We’re going to do our job and get paid. Regardless of how the governor acts.”






    A cluster of three Union class dropships settled in a field nearly 100 kilometers from the nearest settlement.

    The dried-out husks of corn and other staple crops that had recently been harvested went up in flames as they finally came to a stop.

    Then, a few Leopards came down in and settled beside the trio of spheroids, two of them dispersing their lances of ‘Mechs as the ramps descended from the Unions.

    Finally, two heavy fighters drifted in and began circling the landing zone. Their armor was pockmarked, shattered, or slagged in places where they’d narrowly escaped with their lives.

    And all the while, a handful of infantry scouts looked on at the unloaded ‘Mechs and infantry before vanishing back into the trees.

    The sound of rumbling followed as if a distant storm were rolling in before an explosion smashed into one of the lances that had disembarked the Leopards. The artillery had shredded the mediums and the MechWarriors ejected as more rounds crippled that lance.

    The two fighters streamed off toward where the artillery had come from, only to be met by anti-aircraft fire, driving them back to the dropships.

    “We’ve got good hits on target. Artillery is moving locations,” the Marksman’s artillery commander relayed.

    “Understood. Shift to Point Charlie. We’ll have more escorts there.”

    And with that, the battle of Valera had begun.

    Author’s note: apologies for the late update. I recovered from being sick, and then a Kidney stone appeared on Sunday and is currently slowly and painfully working its way through my system. I can and have worked through Migraines. This is an entirely different pain level. So any updates will be intermittent until this has passed.
     
  • New
    • Chapter 56 New
    • Chapter 56

    Date: February 21, 3006
    Location: Valexa, Federated Suns

    “General, you’re leaving us out here to dry. If you don’t push in and start flanking, I’ll have to start pulling back away from the factories.”

    I leaned over the holographic table in the Mobile HQ, an unlit cigar in my mouth as I considered the current situation.

    “I’m not in a position to assist,” Major General Fren sighed. “The Governor is currently restricting all movements of my troops outside of what’s necessary to defend the factories and the high population centers. You’re on your own, Major.”

    “Override him then,” I glared at the March Militia senior officer’s figure on the holographic pedestal on the table's far side. “My people are out here bleeding and dying for your world.”

    “This is my career you’re asking me to risk,” she arched an eyebrow. “All for a plan with no guarantees.”

    “Never mind,” I glanced at the man managing our comms and nodded.

    The hologram cut off, leaving me with the locations of suspected enemy movements and those of our own forces.

    “What’s the plan, sir?” the noncom in charge of the HQ asked.

    “We’re outnumbered here,” I muttered as I manipulated the table, the hologram shifting to the status of our unit. “We’re dealing with Vindicators, Enforcers, and Archers for the most part. So they’ve got us beat on the tonnage.”

    “But we did manage to take out their aerospace,” the Staff Sergeant pointed out. “So our artillery isn’t threatened.”

    I shook my head. “They’ve got their few lances of light ‘Mechs pursuing our Arty. If we want to use it to equalize our position, we will have to figure out how to deal with them first.”

    I straightened up and walked out of the HQ, looking at the trees surrounding us for a moment before lighting the cigar in my hand and puffing on it in thought.

    “Sergeant,” I called to the noncom.

    “Yessir!” she followed me.

    “I have an idea,” I tapped some ash off the end of the cigar before returning it to the corner of my mouth. “But we’ll have to use the HQ as bait.”

    “You’re the boss,” Jones shrugged. “You say jump, we ask how high.”

    I put out the cigar on the leg of my Warhammer before putting the stub back in my mouth and walking back into the HQ.

    “Get me Sheppard and Brown on the horn,” I looked at my comms officer. “I’ve got an idea.”






    A Warhammer and a Mobile HQ were parked and sitting in a small clearing. The ‘Hammer was slumped over in its powered-down state, and the HQ looked like it had a tiny bit of damage to the antennas.

    A Spider, Javelin, Locust, and a Phoenix Hawk moved out of the tree line, another lance of light ‘Mechs following as they cautiously headed for the HQ.

    “‘Mech power up detected!” Betty screamed in their ears as the Warhammer powered up, the reactor signature shining as twin PPCs arced out and destroyed the Locust, the lightest ‘Mech collapsing as its reactor shielding failed, and it fell to the ground when the safeties engaged.

    The woods around the lances erupted with fire as a company of Combat vehicles nosed out of the trees along with a lance of heavy ‘Mechs.

    The Pixie leaped into the air towards the HQ, the ‘Handheld large laser in its hand carved away at the ‘Hammers armor as it attempted to land on the vehicle.

    But the heavy brawler’s shoulder impacted the Pixie in mid-flight and sent it crashing as it skidded on its feet before falling onto its back.

    “You picked the wrong target.”

    The Warhammer pointed a PPC directly at the cockpit of the Phoenix Hawk and cycled the EM fields. The medium ‘Mech powered down in surrender as modified Hunters and the lance of ‘Heavy ‘mechs made short work of the remainder of the light ‘Mechs.

    The only two survivors of the skirmish were a lone Jenner and a Stinger, their jump jets carrying them away from the battlefield.

    “Someone pry the survivors out of their ‘Mechs,” the Warhammer pilot ordered. “And get a salvage team out here. We’ll sort out the rights with the AFFS later.”

    –
    –

    “Well. It’s both better and worse than I feared,” I sighed as I glanced at the casualty reports while salvage teams ripped useful material from the battlemechs, the lone Phoenix Hawk being walked over to a nearby tech team so that it could be factory reset and reprogrammed.

    “We’ll go over them and see if they have any good intel to give us,” Lieutenant Dunham glanced at the POWs that were currently secured and under guard. “We did kill the one that took out Staff Sergeant Jones. The pilot ‘refused to surrender.’”

    I glanced around at our surroundings, ensuring no one was within earshot.

    “Make sure that her family gets the body,” I said somberly. “Even if she was a spy, she died one of us. And we take care of our own. Regardless of how they spend their extracurriculars. I’ll personally write the letter.”

    “It’ll get taken care of,” Dunham nodded. “It’s a cold comfort, but six ‘Mechs for a few squads of infantry is a damned good trade.”

    “It’s not one we can afford to make too often,” I looked at the few bodies that we had been able to recover. “Let’s let Sheppard know he can proceed with the next phase. We’re done here. Their lights won’t be able to threaten the artillery anymore.”






    They wouldn’t stop running! The damned light ‘Mechs were constantly hammering them with PPC shots and a few missiles. Then they would vanish into the trees led again when they tried to hit them with salvos from the Black Lancer’s Archers.

    And that fucking Mongoose! It must have had Lostech because they never saw it until they shed armor and weapons.

    Major Crystal King slammed her fist into her Blackjack’s armrest, her teeth gritted as she watched an Enforcer limp back to the rear, its autocannon barrel melted into slag, and the jump jets on its legs misfiring occasionally.

    “Major, we can’t keep chasing this group,” Captain James Hathaway of the Black Lancer’s commed her on a private channel. “We haven’t heard from our lights in days, and we’re being led away from the factories. We’ve done enough for this to be a raid, and we should fall back to Halloran.”

    “We’ve done nothing but lose good men, women, and material,” King seethed. “Now, get your heavies in a position to kill these sons of whores and help me pin down these lights.”

    “That’s not a very nice thing to say,” a chipper voice broke into the private channel, startling the two Capellan officers. “In fact, I’ve got quite a bit to respond to that with.”

    An artillery shell then cratered the chest of a nearby Vindicator, the automatic ejection system sending the pilot up before a small explosion killed him.

    “Fall back!” King ordered, her Blackjack jumping into the sky to try and locate the spotters. “I got you, you sunovabitch.”

    Her ack-twos pockmarked the armor of the Mongoose, sending it running in the opposite direction as the artillery walked the battalion away from the light ‘Mechs they had been chasing.

    The artillery followed them in a rolling barrage for what seemed like hours to the Lancers and Highlanders' men and women. Still, it must have only been minutes because after the artillery stopped chasing them, PPC and missile fire followed as heavier ‘Mechs stepped into sensor range with armored support.

    “Pull back to the dropships,” King ordered through gritted teeth. “We’re falling back to Halloran V.”

    –
    –

    “Urgent message from local MRB!” Major King’s aid handed her a note as she stepped out of the cockpit of her ‘Mech and onto the gantry.

    “Fuck!” She punched the side of her ‘Mech, ignoring the pain of the broken knuckle. “Get us in the air, Halloran V has been taken by the Wolf’s Dragoons.”







    “Just say the word, and we’ll intercept them,” Blaze offered. “Wardog and Hitman could bring them down before they leave the atmosphere.”

    “There’s been enough bloodshed today,” I looked at the dropship plumes as they rose into the sky. “And I have enough letters to write.”

    I turned and walked back into the Mobile HQ. I had a Major General to cuss out and an AFFS Mercenary liaison to argue with over salvage rights.
     
  • New
    • Chapter 57 New
    • Chapter 57

    Date: March 9, 3006
    Location: Valexa, Federated Suns

    “Mac, got a minute?” I knocked on the doorframe.

    “Aye,” the giant of a man gestured for me to come in and take a seat in his office. “I take it you got me report?”

    “Yeah,” I pulled a chair out and sat down. “We didn’t get much salvage from that haul.”

    “We’re only going to be able to put those salvaged hulks to work if we can get parts from the Fedsuns,” Mac paused and looked over his notes. “The Archer’s center Torso is just about the only thing that survived the artillery. The Enforcers and Blackjacks will need a lot of work before we can put them to use. If we can get the Phoenix some scans, we can make our own parts. Mightn’t need to cut into our funds then.”

    “I’m sure we can find some scans for both,” I replied. “Anything on the lights?”

    “Javelin’s already pieced back together. Spider wasn’t worth the scrap that we pulled from it, and don’t even get me started on what was left of the Locust.”

    “Just get everything put together as best you can,” I sighed. “I’ve got a lot of things to go over our liaison with.”

    “The general causing trouble?”

    “Nah,” I shook my head. “She’s left well enough alone since we drove off the Capellans. Even apologized for leavin’ us without support.”

    “Well, at least she recognized that she did wrong.”

    “Again, it’s the governor who is causing a bunch of issues. We can get into the particulars later.”

    “Aye,” Mac nodded. “I imagine you’ve got quite a bit to discuss with our liaison.”

    “Something like that,” I stood up. “Let Sheppard know if we can get anything for you and the techs. I’m gonna be busy for a little while sorting all of this shit out.”

    “I’ll keep ya informed,” Mac stood and clasped my arm before bringing me into a brief hug.

    “I’ll let you know how our logistics end up sorted out,” I turn to leave. “Have a good one, Mac.”




    Date: March 25, 3006
    Location: Valexa, Federated Suns

    The dark gray of the early morning sky was beginning to burn in a brilliant gold and red hue; the change from night to day brightened as a Leopard descended from the atmosphere, setting down in the small spaceport of Valexa.

    I waited as the boarding ramp folded down from the aerodyne dropship, and a woman in an AFFS uniform stepped down and fixed her cover onto her head as her eyes looked around. Eventually, her eyes landed on me, and she quickly shifted to move to my position.

    “Captain,” I extended my hand as I noted the silver bar on her collar.

    “Major Hull,” she shook my hand. “I’m Rachel Green-Davion, and I’m here to fix the problems we seem to be having here on Valexa.”

    “I’m just ready to be done with this,” I replied as I gestured for her to climb into the vehicle I had standing by. “The Governor is still insisting on the salvage we pulled from the battlefield, and I had to pull all of my people back to the dropships.”

    “Why is the Governor involved at all?” the AFFS legal officer raised an eyebrow. “He’s not a part of the AFFS, and your unit isn’t under contract with him or any of his people.”

    “I keep pointing that out, but he seized the last few shipments we were supposed to receive from the AFFS supply corps.”

    “You get everything in writing?” Rachel asked.

    “I'm a mercenary,” I glanced over. “Of course, I got it in writing.”

    “I’ll need access to copies of that, and I’ll look over them before I confront the governor.”

    “I take it you also have something for the Major General?” I asked.

    “She’s receiving a formal reprimand and a demotion,” she replied. “Despite her not supporting you as she was supposed to, she technically was within her overarching instructions to protect any manufacturing centers in the area.”

    “I don’t mind if she gets a slap on the wrist,” I sighed. “I just want to get my supplies straightened out. This contract pays well, but it’s not worth the hassle if this happens on the regular. I mean, I’ll always have work in the Concordat if it comes down to breaking my contract.”

    “You won’t have to worry about that,” she stepped out of the car and followed me into the compound. “We’ll make sure of it.”






    Date: March 29, 3006
    Location: Phoenix, in orbit around Valexa

    “Alright, we established your baseline last week,” Doctor Hale glanced at the soldier being dressed up in a suit of armor. “Doctor Rogers wants to see what the potential max speed of this powered armor is.”

    “Whatever you say, doc,” the young man shrugged. “This stuff is pretty heavy, though. So I’m not sure how that’ll help.”

    “Just know that we’re going to have you run on a treadmill for a while,” Adamina replied. “Just like you did for the baseline tests.”

    “Alright.”

    The suit was finally secured around his figure before one of the engineers opened a panel on a backpack-like device.

    “Beginning boot sequence.”

    A handful of display lights glowed on the backpack, showing various readouts the engineer confirmed and wrote down before the armored panel was shut and locked with a unique tool.

    “Private Devries, if you’ll step onto the treadmill.”

    He stepped onto the treadmill, and the belt began to start at a walking pace, with Devries slowly becoming adjusted to the armor as he picked up speed.

    “We’re at a steady eight kilometers an hour now. How do you feel, private?”

    “Doesn’t feel like I’ve got kit on at all,” he grinned. “I could run like this all day.”

    “We’ll slowly ramp up the speed and determine the sustained versus max speed.”

    The tests continued for the rest of the day, moving from a treadmill to carry capacity and weight, culminating in a final survivability test.

    After the testing, the medical staff and the engineers retired to their quarters, leaving Doctors Hale and Rogers behind.

    “I’d count that as a success,” Doctor Hale sagged into a small chair on the other side of Roger’s desk.

    “I’d say,” Rogers sat down and began typing up her report. “We’ll have to handmake the first sets we issue. Start to really dial in the manufacturing processes. I’ve got engineers drawing up plans for making the machines to make the different parts now, but it’ll take a little while.”

    “I’m going to have medical writeups done,” Hale sighed. “Just because you’re in a suit of powered armor doesn’t mean you can go without water or a spotter for heavy lifting. The human body is still the human body, and soldiers will inevitably do something stupid.”

    “Right,” Rogers agreed. “Seems project Tolkien isn’t quite finished yet, but I think we’ll see them put them to use fairly quickly.”

    “Given the small arms tests?” Hale asked. “I’d have to agree.”

    “To the future,” Rogers opened a drawer and poured out two glasses of whiskey.

    “To the future.”
     
  • New
    • Chapter 58 New
    • Chapter 58

    Date: March 26, 3006
    Location: Valexa, Federated Suns

    “Captain Green-Davion,” I knocked on the office door that the officer had commandeered, gently pushing it open when I received no answer after a few minutes of knocking.

    What I found on the other side of the door made me smile a bit. Sometime in the night, she had buried her head in the crook of her elbow. There were stacks of combat reports, the resupply documents that we had submitted to the AFFS, and the Comstar reports she had picked up.

    I turned around and left the office, closing the door gently behind me and heading for the mess hall. Some more coffee would be most welcome in this situation.

    “What’s the word on our supplies, boss?” Captain Rose asked me. “Naomi’s chomping at the bit to get some more vehicles fixed up, and the Phoenix can only produce so much at once.”

    “I’m picking up some coffee for Captain Green-Davion now,” I gestured with my hand towards the pot of coffee. “You want to come with?”

    “Nah,” the short woman shook her head. “I scheduled morning PT for the company, so I need to be there too.”

    “Right,” I agreed. “Well, I’ll let you know when I have updates on the supplies you need.”

    “Whelp, I’ve got my coffee now. See ya around, boss,” she turned and walked off, the reflective yellow of a PT belt slung over her shoulder like a sash.

    “Hey! I thought I got rid of those!” I called out as she left.

    “Not all of ‘em!” she laughed as she exited.

    “Fucking PT belts,” I swore.

    Grabbing a tray, I grabbed what I needed and returned to the office where the good captain was sleeping.

    When I knocked on the door this time, there was a response.

    “Come in,” her muffled voice responded.

    “Did you stay up all night going over the reports?” I asked, opening the door with my foot and showing off the coffee I had.

    “Coffee?” She ignored the question, her eyes drawn to the liquid gold I was holding. “Christ, but you’re a Godsend.”

    She eagerly grabbed one of the paper cups and dumped a sugar packet into it before pouring the coffee. A smile graced her face, and a happy sigh left her lips as she sipped the hot liquid.

    “You guys have the good stuff,” she smiled, cradling the cup as if I were going to take it from her. “The AFFS doesn’t provide good coffee.”

    “I spend extra to make sure we get good food and drinks,” I shrugged as I sat and poured my cup. “It makes for a much happier and more satisfied unit after all.”

    “Well, I’m sure you want to know how I’m going to progress your suit,” She said, finishing her first cup and pouring another. “So, I’m going to lay out the plan for you now.”

    She sipped at her second cup for a minute before continuing.

    “All of your records are in order, and I’ve also reviewed your internal reports and the Battleroms that you submitted to Comstar. Normally, this is also when I would ask for the reports of the local March militia unit, but I reviewed what General Fren and her staff submitted on the dropship in.”

    “And the plan is?” I raised my eyebrow.

    “The Governor has massively overstepped his bounds. I’ll instruct the local March Militia to seize and turn over the supplies. Then, I’ll communicate directly with the local Duke. While the governor is an elected official, he’s massively overstepped his boundaries and has put not only Valexa at risk but also the entire Capellan March. As a result, he will face a military tribunal at worst and a civilian court made up of locals in the best-case scenario for him. ”

    “I wouldn’t go that far,” I replied. “He just shorted us some supplies. We’d have made do without ‘em in the end, though.”

    “You misunderstand me,” her green eyes seemed carved out of solid jade for a moment. “The AFFS takes this sort of shit seriously. Because the last time we failed a mercenary unit this badly, it led to McCarron’s Armored Cavalry departing Federated Suns space and eventually ending in them serving the Capellan Confederation.”

    She paused for me to catch up and continued drinking her coffee.

    “The Federated Suns is invested in ensuring that our mercenaries are satisfied with working with us because if we fail, it might lead to enemies that are set on brutalizing our citizens.”

    “Now,” She stood up, slammed down the rest of her coffee, and grabbed her cover. “I need a ride to General Fren’s office.”





    Date: April 5, 3006
    Location: Valexa, Federated Suns.

    Corruption wasn’t something that people often saw or considered in the Federated Suns. However, something to remember is that corruption isn’t a unique feature of any particular ideology, government, race, or creed. Corruption will exist anywhere that people are present, and one of the most satisfying things in all human existence is seeing someone who had grown mighty off of falsehood and treachery brought low.

    After we had taken Captain Green-Davion to the local March militia’s base, things had moved swiftly. MIIO and DMI seemed to have been gathering a dossier on this particular governor due to suspicions about how his opponents had withdrawn from the elections. And it had all come down to money.

    The Governor had made a deal with the Capellan Confederation. They funded his campaign, helped him uncover blackmail, and threatened any opposition he faced in the election.

    And for the last few years, that had been it. The governor basically continued the policies of the last administration until the raid. Only a few minor things stood out, such as his appointing new heads of departments that had been doing quite well beforehand.

    That’s when the local MASK members took control. Their goal was to sabotage the relationship between the Federated Suns mercenary defenders and the official armed forces. Unfortunately for them, we had done our job a little too well. The local MASK units couldn’t entirely build that great rift between the Marksman and the AFFS until after the operation had been completed.

    But none of that impacted my enjoyment of watching a man who had messed with my people be carted off in cuffs to a DMI and MIIO black site to never be seen again.

    “So, due to the potential damages that might have been caused, we’re opening the coffers and shaking loose some of the supply chain,” Captain Green-Davion said, handing me a sealed envelope. The scrip in here’s good for about a company of medium combat vehicles or a lance of Medium ‘Mechs. But you’ll have to get the spare parts the usual way.”

    “Thanks for your help,” I shook her hand. “Always good to meet competent officers.”

    “No,” she shook her head. “Thank you for protecting Valexa when our own would not. “That said, I won’t be able to stick around. I have to do a lot of work, and I’ve got to report to HIGHCOM. Let them know that we avoided disaster.”

    “Regardless, thanks for being willing to put the effort into a new unit like ours. It makes all the difference.”

    “As long as you don’t end up working for the Dracs or Capellans, we’ll call it even,” she smirked. “Have a good day, Major Hull. Enjoy the win.”
     
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