New Haiti
It had taken just over a day for the two vessels to close the distance enough for real time communications. On the one side was Jaime Wolf, traveling in a cut down Leopard dropship, something chosen specifically because it was small and not especially intimidating, but also very swift if the need to be somewhere else arose. Sheridan of course remained on the Lexington, taking his time and proceeding at a leisurely pace so as not to reveal any of its real potential.
The rest of their respective commands had held back and were waiting to see how things went, Sheridan had been authorised to proceed under first contact protocols and determine if these new arrivals were as much of a threat as a pirate kingdom was. For the Dragoons, well, a task force of warships had certainly caught their undivided attention.
Neither side was expecting trouble, Sheridan certainly had the advantage regarding combat ability, but he also had the most to lose if things went badly. If these ships failed to report back, or if one escaped, would Ian Davion send forces to avenge them? Would the Federated Suns see the small but well armed Earth Alliance presence on their borders the same way President Levy had seen the Tortuga Dominion on hers? That could get very unpleasant very quickly, and with still so little information to go on regarding the personalities of the great families, the Alliance had to take it slow and careful.
“Captain Sheridan, am I coming through clear?”
The signal was still voice only which suited Sheridan fine, he didn't particularly want to risk the new arrivals spotting something useful in the background on the bridge of his ship.
“Colonel Wolf, loud and clear.”
“Good, I'm glad you agreed to this talk, Captain. So much easier than flipping signals back and forth every five minutes.”
Sheridan had been so used to Tachyon based comms, adapting to light lag had been a bit of a challenge, but he chose to see it as recreating the way the pioneers had done it back in the early days of space travel.
“I can imagine you have some question you'd like to ask.” Sheridan started with the obvious. “Before you do, my government wishes to state very clearly that we have no hostile intent toward you or your command.”
“That is certainly good to hear, Captain.”
“That said if your intentions here are hostile, well, you know how this kind of thing goes.”
“Then let me put your mind at ease Captain, we're not here looking to fight you.” Wolf spoke evenly and confidently, if he was uncomfortable staring at a 1,200 metre long heavy cruiser, he gave absolutely no indication of it. “My mission is one of Pirate hunting, but it looks like we're a little late to the party.”
“Well, apologies for that Colonel, if we'd have known you were coming we'd have saved a few for you.” Sheridan got the sense Wolf was a professional, both a soldier and a leader, so he had no need for pretence.
“Plenty more out there for us, we're not greedy.” Wolf replied, still getting a feel for the situation. “Can I ask why, Captain?”
“Why are we here?”
“Yes.” Wolf's voice became more pointed and serious. “We are here because Prince Davion needed the pirates raiding him dealt with, but until now didn't have the forces to spare. For us this is a contract, for him his duty as a Prince. But what about you?”
“It's our duty too, and our responsibility.” Sheridan had been very carefully briefed on exactly how much to say, what approved information to offer, and what to avoid like the plague. “We have some commitments nearby and were raided by pirates from here a while back.”
That was of course true, if the Lucky Dip and her two very optimistic dropships counted as a raid.
“I see. So your response was to obliterate the entire pirate armada and steal one of their planets?”
“Not just one planet.”
He couldn't see the man, but Sheridan swore he heard a little scoff of amusement.
“I respect your dedication to the task, Captain. This does however leave my side with a minor problem. I have a contract to destroy the ability of these pirates to raid into Davion space. You seem to have handled that here, but my contract remains unfulfilled.”
“If the pirates are broken already, then surely your contract is complete?”
“It's a matter of honour Captain, we came out here to kill pirates and that is what we will do. New Haiti was the jumping off point for most of the larger raids, but it seems Tortuga is where the bulk of the surviving pirates are now. That's where we will go to finish our contract.”
“I can follow your reasoning.”
“I think Captain that perhaps we might be able to assist each other, we seem to have a convergence of interests.” Wolf brought up the topic Sheridan had been expecting. “Would it be possible to negotiate with your leadership?”
“I am authorised to escort you to the planet for a meeting with General Fraser, if you would like?”
“Excellent news Captain, I think your General might find my suggestion extremely beneficial.”
Earthdome
Geneva, Switzerland
Waiting for news had been the most difficult part for the President, it always was. She had the responsibility for initiating this operation, for putting loyal sons and daughters of Earth into harm's way, and she would carry the blame if they failed to return home. The initial attack had ultimately gone well, casualties were higher than expected but less than feared, but now with a third party involving itself their worst fears were starting to be realised. There was the distinct possibility of escalation well before the Alliance was prepared to face it. Her policy of engaging the pirates was in real danger of backfiring.
Instead of the usual conference room today they were in her office, the great seal of the Alliance hanging behind her desk framing the gaunt woman, the worries of decades etched on her face. Around her were representatives of her military, diplomatic and scientific departments.
“Negotiations are scheduled for later today.” The Alliance's Ambassador at large, David Sheridan, brought her up to date. “I can ask General Fraser to delay things until we can get a full team out there.”
“It will depend on this Colonel Wolf's proposal.” General Denisov considered carefully. “Our intel mentions his group a few times, very well equipped mercenaries. I don't think he's interested in picking a fight with us, and I don't think he's going to be interested in diplomatic relations.”
“What could he want then?” Levy ran through some options in her head. “A forward base for a while? Fuel and supplies?”
“All possible, we'll know later today.” The old General had nothing more to say. “We've also completed our after action report for Operation Tripoli, the summary is here Madam President.”
The full report was presumably a massive document filled with technical analysis, President Levy only required the few sheets of summary to keep her up to date. She skimmed through and gave her attention to General Sikander Singh, the slim officer's khaki uniform distinguishing him as the commander of the army.
“What are your recommendations, General?”
“In the short term Madam President, we need to reissue our shaped charge munitions and update our heavy missile technology.” Singh was surprisingly soft spoken. “When fighting the Minbari, we found that by far the best weapon were sabot rounds, relatively small but very fast darts of metal optimised to pierce armour and damage the interior of an enemy vehicle. Our shaped charge shots were just too slow moving to accurately hit the Minbari grav tanks and the Minbari armour was very effective at dispersing the explosive component.”
“Would they have helped against those robot war machines?”
“Probably. Our sabot rounds were not useless but they simply didn't inflict enough damage before the enemy was able to close the range. We'll need to conduct more analysis but it appears the armour materials on these Battlemechs were resistant to the piercing ability of our sabots, robbing them of their main advantage. We had to hit the same part of the machine a few times to break away the structure and begin inflicting internal damage, and unfortunately our tank crews aren't trained that way.”
“For the last two and a half centuries, the golden rule of tank combat has been to get the first shot in, and to make sure it's a single hit to kill.” Denisov helped the President. “As we moved out into space we found all our adversaries had the same idea, even the Minbari, so we simply refined our doctrine and carried on.”
“We're going to need a completely new doctrine to handle mechs, especially if they are common in armies across this new galaxy.” Singh reasoned. “One with a strong focus on inflicting as much damage as possible as rapidly as possible.”
“To that end, Madam President, we have two procurement goals.” Denisov fished out some more papers. “A new type of heavy tank, specifically a mech killer.”
“Our existing tanks can't be modified?”
“Not to the degree we need.” Singh shook his head. “Switching out the ammunition on our Thor tanks will help, but our tanks are designed for precision long range engagements. They simply don't hit hard enough, or just as importantly fast enough, to handle this threat.”
“Likewise Madam President, while our Odin tanks do hit very hard, and we are recommending full scale production of them too, they are built on the same hull as the Thor and lack sufficient survivability.”
“Like all of our vehicles, they are optimised to resist kinetic weapons, again as all of our enemies up to the Minbari used kinetic cannons.” Singh clarified. “That is something we need to adapt to.”
Levy looked at the papers which contained a helpful engineers sketch with various annotations.
“The Siegfried?”
“Yes Ma'am, to maintain the mythological naming convention.” Denisov nodded. “We have two proposals, an ideal heavy tank and one we can put into production at the earliest date. The Siegfried is our urgent design using off the shelf components for rapid development.”
It certainly looked intimidating to President Levy's civilian eyes, a large vehicle dominated by two extremely large looking cannons.
“Will it be good enough?”
“We believe so.” Singh confirmed. “The cannons are the same type we use on our ocean going cruisers, 175mm BilPro naval artillery. We already have a production line for them, in fact our goal is just to use the entire turret mechanism unmodified and put it on a tracked chassis. The guns, their mounts, the turret ring, the autoloaders, we'll just put them in tanks instead of ships.”
“Does it need two guns?”
“The warships use the guns in pairs so it's cheaper and quicker just to take the already in production system and use it as is.” Denisov explained. “If we reduce it to a single gun we'd need to redesign the mounts and autoloaders. It would make the tank smaller, but also more expensive and delay the project by months.”
“There's also the rate of fire element.” Singh added. “Two guns gives us double the rate of fire, and while a single rapid firing gun would be better, our autoloading technology just isn't there yet. Not for guns this big.”
“The chassis is a heavy excavator hull that we developed years ago for construction work on high gravity planets, very large and very sturdy.” The senior officer wrapped the description up. “We'll add as much armour as we can, but we need to balance that with keeping it air portable. On the plus side, it will use naval armour piercing shells which are designed to punch through heavy armour and then explode inside a target, that should ruin anyone's day.”
“They also tend to be rocket boosted, at sea that gives the shots more range, but for us it adds muzzle velocity without worrying about recoil shaking the guns loose.” Singh winced at the idea. “It's not an ideal solution, but we can have a prototype within two months and if it works full production after another four.”
“Alright.” Levy nodded. “What's your ideal solution?”
“That would be Brunhilde.” Denisov handed over the last of his papers. “This is actually a design we drafted last year after we managed to get some data on the Minbari super heavy assault vehicles. At the time it was not considered practical, but things have changed.”
This particular design did look considerably more aggressive. While the Siegfried was pretty much a regular tank supersized and given another cannon, this vehicle was more ambitious featuring articulated bogies for the tracks, a very low profile design, and a pair of absurdly huge cannons. It certainly followed a theme.
“As you may recall Madam President, the Minbari super heavy vehicles shrugged off almost anything we could throw at it. Our urgent solution was the Odin, a big gun on an existing hull, but long term we wanted a vehicle that could outmatch the Minbari in every metric. Speed, protection, and of course firepower.”
“The main armaments are 155mm Gauss guns, those weapons are currently only in prototype stage.” Singh pointed out on the illustration rather unnecessarily. “Once completed, they will be the most potent land based weapons known to exist, We can hopefully go back to one shot kills against all expected targets.”
“The Brunhilde will also be fast, the wide tracks and independent suspension will allow it unrivalled mobility, and it will use warship grade armour.” Denisov rounded up. “Not to mention next generation sensors and computer controls.”
“How long until these can be built, General?”
“Two to three years, possibly more if we run into difficulties.” Denisov answered apologetically. “Which is why we need the Siegfried, good enough now is better than perfect tomorrow.”
“It is also too large and heavy for our existing landing shuttles.” Singh chipped in. “So part of the project will also be a new heavyweight landing craft.”
“Erm, hello, excuse me?” A small hand was raised from the opposite side of the room. “Can I make a suggestion?”
“Doctor Ginelli.” The President looked away from the assorted description of weapons.
“You remembered me?”
“Very hard to forget you doctor.” Levy smiled but whether it was a compliment or not was far more ambiguous. “Did you have something to add? Please go ahead, I want to hear thoughts from all my advisors.”
“Well, the tanks look great and sound useful, but why don't we just make our own battlemechs?”
The two Generals gave her a blank expression before Singh spoke up.
“We don't need them, the tanks will do the job.”
“They are certainly great at shooting things, but they're not as versatile or mobile on the attack. Mrs. President, we've seen that in the hands of barely literate pirates mechs can be extremely destructive, imagine what we could do with them.”
“At this point we don't know if we can even make our own, our analysis of the wrecks showed several pieces of technology we have no references for.”
“Yes, mostly to do with the motive elements.” Ginelli remembered the notes. “I'm confident with proper study we could crack these secrets, and honestly Mrs President we really need to try.”
“I disagree Ma'am.” Denisov countered. “It's better to refine and advance systems we know to be successful. Heavy tanks, superior missiles, and if possible increased funding for our next generation of Starfury which will have atmospheric capability.”
“What do you think Professor Klein?” Levy turned to her most senior scientist. “Is it worth trying to replicate this new technology?”
All eyes turned to the grey haired man, not so eye catching as his younger eclectic colleague but commanding respect as Earth's most accomplished physicist. His theories on gravitons had been groundbreaking and were on the brink of cracking one of the most massive technological developments of the era, true artificial gravity.
“I think both suggestions are correct.” He concluded plainly. “We need those tanks and they will be ready first, it should be our priority. Even if we do find a way to build mechs, those machines will still need combined arms support, therefore the new generation of tanks is certainly not a dead end.”
“But you think mechs have potential?” The President pushed.
“I do, there is a reason they are so prized and widespread.” Klein nodded. “At the very least we will find ourselves fighting against them time and again in the future, the more we know about mechs the easier those battles will be.”
“So you propose studying them?” Singh nodded. “I already have our engineers breaking them down, I'd welcome some help but I would have thought this sort of reverse engineering was beneath your team.”
“My people are fully committed to Project Warlock, but Doctor Ginelli is free.”
“No, I'm not.” She shot him a look. “Did you just fire me?”
“Your work on the jump drive is done, your team can finish the rest.” Klein smiled. “And I know how much you like this sort of thing.”
“But Dr Ginelli is a Hyperspace Physicist, not a weapons engineer?” Denisov frowned. “Is she best suited?”
“As a team leader and driving force behind the project, yes. Think of her more as a manager and motivator.”
“Manager?” Denisov looked like he was trying to swallow needles. “Your call, Madam President.”
“I'm happy to follow Professor Kleins advice, but are you sure the work on the drives is done?”
The older scientist yielded the floor to his younger increasingly agitated subordinate.
“The teams looking at the local FTL system have made some key breakthroughs, yes.”
“What she means,” Klein cut in, “is that she has personally cracked the principles behind these devices and worked out a way to build our own.”
“Really?” Levy raised an eyebrow.
“Well, I mean...” Ginelli stuttered.
“Yes, she has.” Klein answered for her. “And if that's not worth a Nobel prize nothing is.”
“I guess I wasn't getting one for zapping us all out here in the first place.” She winced inwardly. “But yes, I figured out the Germanium.”
“That would be the Germanium Alloy core each local FTL drive requires.” Klein added helpful notes, a teacher assisting his student.
“Yes, well, at first we all thought it was just a way to store the charge which is used to activate the hyperspace shunt.” Ginelli started, licking her lips. “I can explain this better if I had coffee.”
“No, you can't.” Klein said firmly. “Go on.”
She looked incredibly wounded and desolate for a moment, then pressed on. “All the navigators and engineers from the captured jump ship, they all said it was for the power charge, but when we swapped out the core and used our own capacitors, nothing happened. We delivered precisely the same charge, but it didn't initialise.”
She rubbed her eyebrows, thinking through the compulsion for caffeine.
“Then we learned more, like if you put two Germanium cores next to each other they also prevent a jump. That made no sense, because even an inert core had an effect. Turns out this particular alloy in this particular concentration when energised in a very specific way, turns into a tachyon calming device.”
“Can you explain that for those of us who aren't Hyperspace Physicists?” Levy asked.
“Yes, sure, well it's a bit like this. Tachyons are everywhere whizzing around us, through us, everywhere. We couldn't prove this until a century ago and from what I can tell nobody here has the instruments to detect tachyons, at least not anymore. The KF drive system basically works by creating a small pocket of hyperspace around a vessel and shunting it to another point in space. It is, as far as I can tell, using hyperspace as we know it, but it's a different dimension of hyperspace, far more compact and hence faster. Okay so far?”
“So far.”
“Right, well then, the issue I found was that this KF pocket is incredibly fragile and it can be easily disrupted by all the background tachyons. It stops the pocket from forming and you don't go anywhere, that's why my first attempts failed. So I go look at the Germanium, and it turns out this very specific alloy given a specific slow charge acts as a sort of lightning conductor, drawing in background tachyons and basically clearing the air for the KF pocket to form. That was the secret! The Germanium core created the right environmental conditions for the KF field, and that's why two cores near each other prevent a jump, they muddle each other and stop the clean redirection of tachyons.”
“Incidentally Madam President, we are looking to see if this principle can be used to prevent accidental jump ins or outs of Sol.” Klein nudged into the story. “Given the value of keeping our location secret, it may be wise to ensure nobody who arrives here can leave without our approval.”
“Isn't the reason we're all here right now down to manipulating background tachyons to inhibit FTL travel?” Denisov didn't frame it as an accusation but it may as well have been. “I don't think we want to do this again.”
“It would be on a vastly smaller scale.” Klein expanded. “And only after much study.”
“Anyway.” Ginelli wasn't finished. “Knowing that the secret was clearing the area around the KF field of background tachyons, I found a way to do it without Germanium.” She grinned, immensely proud. “We just use the tachyon directors from our own jump drives, easy.”
“Imagine for a moment that not everyone knows how easy it is, Doctor.” Levy gently reminded.
“Oh, right. Well our jump drives blast a stream of tachyons at some energised Quantium, the quantium creates a quantum twin for said tachyons in hyperspace, that's what quantium does, it exists both in and outside hyperspace simultaneously when energised. Anyway, we blast these tachyons, focus the stream ahead of a ship and where the two stream of twins meet, one in hyperspace and one in real space, they react and make a vortex. Simple as that.”
“Yes, simple as that.” Levy gave up.
“The important bit is the tachyon stream, or more exactly the energy fields we use to move those tachyons. We can manipulate them, direct them. In our drives, we want to concentrate them, but in a modified KF drive we do the reverse, we disperse them. We clear the sky so the KF pocket can form. That's it.”
“The bottom line, Madam President,” Klein rode to the rescue, “is that we can now in theory build a Kearny Fuchida hyperspace shunt without needing Germanium, or Quantium, or any lengthy recharge times. Just existing common materials.”
“Your saying you solved our hyperspace problem?” Denisov immediately perked up. “Unlimited FTL drives?”
“In the sense we can build as many as we want? Yes.” Klein confirmed. “Right now, range is still limited to thirty or so lightyears while we figure out the navigation specifics, but recharge times are probably going to be comparable to our existing Jump engines. Twenty minutes or so.”
“Fun fact, there are no actual range limitations as far as I can tell.” Ginelli chipped in excitedly. “It's just how well you can calculate your destination and regulate the energy input. It is extremely probable that there are ships that messed up their jumps billions of light-years away. Beyond the observable universe, which is incredible.” She paused for a second. “Though obviously not for them.”
“We are still in the testing phase, but the physics is good, the underlying principles sound.” Klein nodded his head. “This will work.”
“Perhaps I was wrong about you Doctor Ginelli.” Denisov half smiled at the hyperactive scientist. “Well, no, I was right, but in addition to that, you are an actual genius.”
“It's good news, very good news, but I've heard the word tachyon so much I'll have to think about it all later.” Levy exhaled. “Let's take a break here, meet back this evening after we know what's happening on New Haiti.”
“Very good, Madam President.” Her advisors all began to stand, Levy making eye contact with the young scientist and giving her a genuine smile.
“You did well, you might just have increased our odds of survival considerably.”
“After I put us here...”
“After you managed to grant us a reprieve from extinction at the hands of the Minbari.” Levy corrected. “This must have taken a lot of work.”
“A lot of coffee.” She grinned impishly. “I'd like to get back to studying what made us arrive here in the first place, I still can't figure it out, but maybe the Professor is right. Maybe I need a different project. Like big stompy robots.”
“Oddly enough, I think that might be exactly where you belong right now.” Levy still managed to find a little joy in her exuberance despite all that had happened. “Celebrate your success doctor, I think we're here for the long term and our goal now is to make the best of it, to thrive here. You've helped make that real.”
“So you'll let me experiment with giant heavily armed robots?” Ginelli asked hopefully.
“I think you've earned it.”
New Haiti
Jaime's Leopard took its time on the approach, probably a little longer than it had to, as he made sure the ship got a good look at the city and it's surroundings. He guessed that his hosts were expecting him to take a good look at their operation, so why disappoint them? The dropship roared in and circled the landing zone, still rather rustic for a space port, but at least the new owners of New Haiti had implemented a functional air traffic control system. He landed gently, dropping the side personnel hatch and stepping down into the still humid and somewhat uncomfortable environment.
“Colonel Wolf?”
He recognised the voice greeting him, turning to spot a reasonably young officer with a crew cut and a neat blue uniform. It wasn't any uniform he recognised, but that wasn't surprising.
“You must be Captain Sheridan, I appreciate the escort.” Jaime gave the slightest nod of the head maintaining an easy polite attitude. “I'm honoured to have a full Captain meet me, a warship Captain at that.”
“I need to talk to the General too, saves time.” Sheridan lied, not very convincingly. Jaime suspected he wasn't trying to hide it. “Shall we?”
They climbed into a very basic utility truck, plain grey with no doors and only the most basic of seating. It handled the mud effectively enough, pulling away from the dropship and beginning the careful journey across the field.
“You came alone?” Sheridan fought with the steering wheel.
“Call it a gesture of trust.” Jaime smiled slightly. “And an acknowledgement of the power dynamic. You have warships, I don't, so even if I brought my entire force and marched them all up to your front door, it wouldn't change a thing. I'd be just as much at your whim then as now, except if this is a betrayal, it would cost the lives of my best warriors.”
Sheridan appreciated the candour.
“Warriors, not soldiers?”
“Warriors.” Jaime confirmed. “I'm aware there's a lot of semantics about the difference between soldiers and warriors, they're just words. As a combat unit, you'll have to look hard to find any as good as my Dragoons.”
“Maybe not too hard.” Sheridan glanced at some passing Earth Force troops. “But I have heard your unit is about as good as mercenaries come.”
“They're as good as anyone comes.” Jaime replied with obvious pride and utter conviction. “I was actually looking forward to breaking some pirates, always rewarding to kill an enemy who deserves it.” He peered out at the distant pirate dropships sitting on the edges of the field. “And nice to claim some of the spoils of war, those Jumpships in orbit too?”
“Not like the pirates are going to be needing them.”
He cleared the landing field and found a stony road, not exactly flat and well maintained but better than mud. He picked up speed, churning up a cloud of yellow dust behind the vehicle.
“Never heard of the Earth Alliance before.” Jaime mentioned casually, but his eyes were keenly looking for a reaction. “Are you new to the region?”
“Fairly.” Sheridan kept it cool, his father was legendary for his poker face and at least some of that had been passed down. He'd never mentioned the name, and all comms were secure tachyon based systems, so he had probably not hacked them. Best guess was he had seen it stencilled on the side of something. “We kept a low profile.”
“Very low profile.” Jaime agreed. “There's no mention of you anywhere, not even a rumour. Well,” he smiled, “beside the usual stories of lost colonies and massed fleets in the deep periphery.”
“A couple of people thought we were Kerensky's exiles come back with a vengeance.”
“Really?” Jaime seemed to like that idea. “Imagine that.”
He followed the road deeper into the town, the poor condition of the settlement obvious to see. They drove past a tank, the crew watching them go by quietly, mildly interested in Wolf's different uniform.
“The pirates let this place go to hell, ran it into the ground.” Sheridan shook his head. “Perfectly decent planet like this? Might not be paradise, but a decent government could make a lot out of it.”
“Maybe.” Jaime nodded. “But you'd have to find a decent government first.”
“How about your employer? Prince Davion?”
“There are worse out there, but these are not golden days for the Inner Sphere. They have fallen far.”
“They?” Sheridan caught.
“My people are from the Periphery, just like you.” Jaime answered easily. “But we all have a job to do, mine involves fighting for money.”
“Just for money?”
“That's the job, but, well, sometimes its nice to be paid for your hobbies.”
Sheridan pulled onto the main highway, finally picking up some real speed.
“Not to be obvious, and I bet everyone asks you this.” Jaime continued. “But where did you find a squadron of warships?”
“They came with the uniform.”
Jaime gave him a look, nodding in understanding. He didn't expect that information to be volunteered nearly so easily. “Pretty nice perk of the job. I know my history Captain, I'm actually pretty well informed on warships. Never seen your designs.”
“No reason you should have.” Sheridan shrugged. “And yes, that is far beyond the scope of this meeting. As is any information about where I'm from and what my long term goals are.”
“Just my nature to be curious, actually I'm glad.”
“Why?”
“If you just told me everything to try and impress me, I'd have told you to turn this truck around and put my straight back on my ship.” Jaime answered honestly. “I am a mercenary Captain, but I have standards and I do not suffer fools. I look forward to where this is going.”
Sheridan swung the jeep round and into the central plaza, the somewhat battered governor's residence still overlooking the cobbled square. A pair of tanks greeted them, with several infantrymen stationed in key locations. Jaime quietly observed their deployments, tried to get a sense of their professionalism and demeanour in how they stood and acted, deeming them satisfactory.
They pulled up, broken glass crunching under the wheels.
“We still need to figure out where all the street cleaners went.” Sheridan stepped out first. “This place hasn't had a good sweep in about two hundred years.”
“Maybe that'll change.” Jaime observed. “Any trouble from the locals?”
“Nothing yet, I think a lot of them still don't understand what happened.”
“Hard to build an independent proud population out of such a broken people.” Jaime glanced around. “Why even try? Aren't there other things to spend your resources on?”
“Like all the other powers out there?” Sheridan guessed the logic.
“That's the way it is, way it's been for a long, long time.”
“But it doesn't have to stay that way.”
He led the Colonel through the main entrance, a pair of sentries standing to as the officers walked by into the large lobby. The troopers had tidied it up, which basically meant piling all the junk in one room out of the way, but it at least meant the two visitors didn't trip on anything. They arrived at the governor's office, the door pushed closed but unlocked on account of the mechanism having been shot off. Sheridan knocked anyway and waited.
“Come on through, it's about as unlocked as it gets.”
Sheridan pushed the door aside and let Jaime go in first, the office absolutely empty apart from a desk and a few mismatched chairs retrieved from different parts of the building. Most of the windows were boarded up, but enough sun shone through to highlight all the dust in the air.
“Colonel Jaime Wolf, Wolf's Dragoons.” The officer formally introduced himself.
“Brigadier General Robert Fraser, Fourth Assault Brigade.” The host responded. “Grab a chair Colonel, you too, Captain. I have water if you can stand it, the fella who used to live here left some booze, but I'm pretty sure you could fuel a jet fighter with it.”
”I'll take a pass.” Jaime smiled slightly and settled into a colourful wooden chair, Sheridan and Fraser forming two other points of a triangle. “But thank you for the offer.”
“Well Colonel, I understand you wanted to talk about something in person?”
“I did, I could have asked over the radio but I wanted to actually meet you first. As I am sure Captain Sheridan has already figured out, I put a lot of stock in the people I work beside. I am a mercenary, but I can afford to pick and choose my jobs, and who I fight beside.”
“Is that why you are here?”
“I have a simple proposal General, one that benefits us both, makes my employer happy, and fulfills the terms of my contract.” Jaime got to work. “I want your forces and mine to attack Tortuga together.”
Fraser looked over to Sheridan, then back to Jaime with a look of mild amusement.
“Quite a suggestion out of nowhere Colonel.”
“I wasn't sure I wanted to make it until I got a better sense for who you are, and just as importantly why you are here.” Jaime spoke honestly. “But I can tell your soldiers are competent, well equipped for a mobile force, and your intentions are honourable. As I told Captain Sheridan, I have standards.”
“I appreciate your assessment, but we don't need help crushing Tortuga.”
“Of course you don't and neither do we.” Jaime acknowledged. “That's not the point, this isn't about the stronger aiding the weaker, it is two warriors fighting shoulder to shoulder against an enemy that deserves death.”
“Sounds poetic, but if I can speak plainly?”
“I'd be disappointed if you didn't.”
“We know your name, some of the hype surrounding your boys, but we don't know you. Why would we trust you to fight beside us?”
“I am sure my regimental commanders will ask the same thing, and I will tell them that there is honour in a worth battle with a strong ally.” Jaime smiled. “And then I'll tell them that we could use your artillery and air support, because even though either of us alone can win this battle, it will be vastly easier if we work together. And of course, less costly in lives.”
“That all kind of relies on if you are as good as you say you are.” Fraser held firm. “It's a lot to risk. We only have your word you are here to kill pirates, can I be sure you won't turn on my boys and girls once the shooting starts?”
“If we did turn on you, I am sure Captain Sheridan's big guns would quickly punish us for our rank stupidity.” Jaime noted. “Your forces lack a battlemech contingent, you seem like a reconnaissance in force rather than a full planetary assault unit. I can give you the hammer you need, two full regiments of elite combined arms troops. In return you support us with artillery, airpower, and additional infantry regiments for urban combat.”
“And after Tortuga falls?”
“My people go home, our contract fulfilled. That's all.”
“And if your employer asks what happened out here?”
“I'll tell him.” Jaime said true. “I can't lie to the man paying my wages, and I don't think I need to.”
“Well I can't deny some heavy armour would be very useful. I'll need to talk to my superiors, I'm expecting to be relieved which would free my unit up. Perhaps a joint operation might be to our benefit.”
“I think it would be General.”
“I'll let you know in the next few days, Colonel.” Fraser gave a nod. “Feel free to look around town while you're here.”
“That would be... thrilling.”
Fraser broke a laugh. “Aye, you're not wrong Colonel. I'd offer some hospitality if I had it but...” He trailed off, waving his hands around the room.
“No apology needed.” Jaime stood. “I'll head back to my ship.”
“I'll get you a driver. Hey! Jack! Get Colonel Wolf a ride back to his boat!”
“Yes sir!” A voice answered faintly from beyond the door.
“Well I hope to see you back soon Colonel Wolf, frankly I am very keen to see your people in action.”
“That works out well, we're very keen to be in action. Good meeting you General.” He shook hands confidently. “And you Captain Sheridan, until next time.”
The two officers let Wolf leave, giving him plenty of time to drive off before sitting back down.
“He knows we're not local, and he knows we're called the Earth Alliance.”
“Did you tell him?” Fraser frowned. “Nah, he probably read it on the side of your ship. That just proves he has eyes.”
“He's sharp General, maybe he is doing this to reduce casualties among his men, but I also think he's measuring us up.”
“No doubt about it.”
“So we refuse his request?”
“No.” Fraser shook his head. “We take it, we go in alongside him, and we give Tortuga a damn good thrashing.”
Sheridan shifted his weight a little, not sure what the play was.
“General, we should be careful trusting him. Our orders are to guard information about ourselves. I can guarantee you that man is smart enough to walk away with a hell of a lot more than we want him to.”
“Maybe so, it is a gamble, but this is also our best chance to see what a professional mech army can do without risking ourselves in the process.”
Sheridan began to understand.
“I lost thirty tanks to four mechs Captain, and while I am confident that won't happen again, I was up against pirates in old machines. Imagine if they had been real soldiers, if they had coordinated their attacks, supported each other, employed real combined arms.” Fraser grimaced. “Nah Captain, I don't think command properly realises yet how serious the situation is.”
“So we go in with these guys, record every second, and then make sure the Joint Chiefs see what we'd be up against in a real war?”
“Got it in one, Captain.” Fraser smiled. “We see the capabilities of a professional mech force, see how good well maintained machines are, what sort of performance real soldiers can deliver. We'll gauge their tactics, see how they implement combined arms, follow their command and control. This is an immense opportunity, and while there is risk on our side, the benefits vastly outweigh them.”
“Understood General, anything I can do to help?”
“I'll handle it. I'm sure this will be a presidential decision so I'll call home soon, then pretend it took two days to get an answer. Should also be enough time for Second Corps to arrive and garrison this place.”
“There is one issue General.” Sheridan raised. “We're not even a quarter the way to Tortuga with the Explorers, we can't deploy for another few months.”
“Plus we don't want them learning about hyperspace.” Fraser nodded. “I know Captain, already thought about that.”
“So how do we get there sir?”
“We have you to thank for that Captain, how many jumpships did you snatch from those bandits?”
Jaime Wolf thanked the driver as he got out of the jeep and walked the last few paces back to his dropship. He was smiling, a smile that grew wider as he spotted a familiar figure waiting for him.
“Did they buy it?”
“No, they did not buy it.” Jaime answered. “They didn't need to, these are professionals, I didn't need to bullshit them.”
Natasha Kerensky just gave him a shrug. “So we on then?”
“Yes, we're on. The General's making us wait but he's already made his mind up, he's only got a light force here, he's going to need us.”
“He doesn't need a mech assault, he's got warships.”
“Which they use very sparingly.” Jaime observed. “Their Captain is an idealist, it's actually refreshing. I don't think they want to throw down massive firepower, they want to do this clean. They see themselves as liberators fixing things, not conquerors.”
“So they're Davions then?”
“Maybe, but I don't think so. There's far too much wrong here, everything is familiar, but it doesn't exactly fit.” He felt like he was holding several pieces of a jigsaw puzzle, enough to make a picture revealing some of the whole, but with no clue how much was hidden.
“Well while you figure it out, I'll just be killing pirates and making us look good, fair?”
“Fair.” Jaime allowed a slight chuckle. “Anyway, let this be a lesson on the value of doing things by the book.”
She gave him a sharp glare. “I’m not going to say it.”
“To think some of my senior commanders wanted to just jump in here blind because it was only a bunch of pirates.” Jaime let himself enjoy a little teasing. “Can you imagine?”
“Fine.” She rolled her eyes. “You were right. Did they notice?”
“I don’t think so, they probably thought our jump scout was just another ship out of Tortuga gathering intel for their counterattack.” Jaime reasoned. “They weren’t expecting us.”
“They’re definitely not local, no drop ships, no docking collars on their warships.” She nodded across the field. “And check out those pirate mechs they captured, they’ve got no idea how to move them.”
“Curiouser and curiouser.” Jaime agreed. “And you saw their warship, the Lexington? She’d been heavily repaired, very recently too, the different patterns in the metal made it obvious. How many people do you think can do that to a warship?”
“No one we’ve met.” Natasha understood. “So we’ve got a completely unknown group with no records anywhere, no point of origin, no clue on their agenda, who have access to warships and who have just been fighting someone else out here who was tough enough to shred their flagship. That about cover it?”
“Aren’t you glad you came along now?” Jaime arched an amused eyebrow. “Life needs a good mystery, doesn’t it?”
“Yeah.” She deadpanned back at him. “Yay.”
“Let's eat, keep an eye on things.” Jaime decided that was probably enough for now. “We might finally have something useful to report.”