The last 18 months or so have been a pretty much unending nightmare.
My wife left me. The less said about that, the better.
My Ulcerative Colitis went into overdrive and it put me in the hospital some four or five times in that year-and-a-half. I had surgery two months ago to correct it and, while I feel now great, I'm having to get used to shitting into a bag.
And, as everyone has noticed, we've been hammered by COVID-19 and all the horrors of the year 2020. No need to expound upon this; we're all dealing with this in some form or another.
But, suffice to say, I haven't done any work on any of my fiction until just recently. I'm actually pouring a lot of my processing of these recent events into my writing and I've added about eight pages to A Hero's Homecoming in just the last week or so, which is pretty impressive given I'd largely abandoned it (and pretty much every other story) over a year ago.
But I'm hoping to keep at it. Knowing me, it's more likely I'll work in one giant spurt before leaving things fallow again (That seems to be my pattern. Damned ADHD keeps me from finishing just about anything.) Hopefully however, that spurt will at least finish A Hero's Homecoming.
FYI, I made some edits to the earlier parts of A Hero's Homecoming, so even if you've read Parts 1 and 2, there is some new material there.
Friday, June 26, 2020
A Hero's Homecoming Part Three
Summer
Prefecture VIII, Republic of the Sphere
13 August 3134
Sunday morning. Two months into their journey. Max woke up as the duty shift bell rang, roughly 8 in the morning. He got up and went over to the small shrine he’d erected in the corner of his room and knelt down. He lit a candle and began to pray.
“I thank you, my Heavenly Father, through Jesus Christ, Your dear Son, that You have kept me this night from all harm and danger; and I pray that You would keep me this day also from sin and every evil....”
A loud knock at the door interrupted his prayer. Max stood up and went to the door. It opened to reveal Amon Kivisto, one of the mechwarriors from Bravo lance. “Hey, Pendragon, good morning.” The burly man bellowed. With his bushy beard and unkempt hair, Amon very much looked the part of his callsign: Viking.
“Um...” Max began.
“I caught you praying. Sorry. Finish, and then we can talk.”
Max returned to the shrine and finished his prayer while Amon waited patiently in the doorway. He extinguished the candle and Amon spoke again.
“So, Christian, what do you pray for?”
“Oh, the usual. Thanks for another day of life. Safe journeys as we travel through space. Fortune and wellbeing for my family back home. Victory over my enemies in battle. That sort of thing.”
“No ‘please have Lilly stop teasing and finally put out’?” Amon growled mirthfully.
“Ok, that too.” Max laughed. “So what do you pray for, Pagan?”
“Much the same. Safe journeys through space. Good fortune for my family. Victory over my enemies.” He paused. “And for Lady Viking to put out more.”
From behind Amon came a rough, but playful shove, from Kalle, Amon’s wife. “I hate it when you call me that.” she grumbled.
Kalle was another mechwarrior in Bravo lance; callsign “QueenBee.” She was Amon’s wife and the two of them had joined the Bombardiers several years ago. Both were from the Rasalhague Dominion and both were religiously Neo-Pagan. When they discovered Max was religious, albeit a different religion, they adopted him as their best friend. They would frequently have playful “theological discussions” similar to this conversation on prayer.
This had been the way of things over the past two months. Max had settled in nicely with his comrades. He was closest to Amon and Kalle, but had struck up friendships with most of the company. In his own lance, besides Behemoth, was also Crapshoot, the Davion gambler who piloted the Warhammer he’d first seen on arrival, and Topaz, an amber haired beauty from Kurita space. There was also Rampage and Dogfight in Bravo lance, also both from the Draconis Combine.
How so many folks from the far side of the Inner Sphere had ended up in a mercenary company that worked primarily in the Outward Periphery was a mystery to Max for a while, but it soon became clear. War and conflict was a rare thing in the post-Jihad Inner Sphere. Militaries had downsized and the Pax Republicana reigned, thanks to the dominance of the Republic of the Sphere and its laws. Those inclined to the military either found themselves stuck in boring garrison duty in their homelands or sought out the more violent frontiers.
Charlie lance was made up of Periphery natives whose families had likewise been members of the Bombardiers for several generations. Windchill and Scrap Iron were both from the Periphery frontier, their grandfathers had been pirates who wanted a more legit line of work. Flash was from a family that fled from the Outworlds Alliance as the Snow Raven Clan took over, stealing a then-brand-new Arbalest Battlemech as they did so. It had been passed down and was still in good condition, despite it being the only Clan technology mech in the unit. Livewire was the final pilot in the lance; her mother had been exiled from the Magistry of Canopus for marrying the wrong sort.
“So what brings you to see me this fine Sunday morning?” asked Max.
“Breakfast.” said Amon hungrily. “You know the jumper makes special breakfast on Sunday.”
“That we pay for.”
“Perk of a long journey. Me hungry. Eat now!”
Max followed Amon and Kalle through the Argo to the airlock that connected it to the jumper. They’d been at the nadir point of Summer for about a day as the jumpship recharged its hyperdrive for the next jump. They passed through the airlock and then made their way towards the grav deck of the jumpship.
Max stepped onto the grav deck and felt the comfortable feeling of gravity take hold. It was fake gravity, of course; generated by spinning the circular grav deck around to produce centrifugal force. But it was the only source of anything resembling planet-like conditions in space. The Argo had its own grav deck, but couldn’t deploy or activate it while attached to a jumpship. So he and the others in the Bombardiers had been spending a lot of time aboard the jumper to avoid going too crazy.
The jumpship crew had set up a spread for them and their own crew. Fresh eggs, sausages, bacon, cereal; a pretty typical Western European style breakfast buffet. Fresh food like this was often hard to come by during space voyages and so this was quite the treat to the people living aboard these spacecraft.
Amon and Kalle headed immediately to the line, leaving Max behind in a famished rush. That gave him the freedom to scope the room. It was as close to “outside” as one could get on a jumpship. There was no ceiling; Max could see straight up the 200 meters or so to the other side of the ring-like grav deck and see the rooms there from the top down. The ground was grass, planted in special hydroponic bins that cycled the water efficiently. It kept the air fresh and clean smelling. The space was illuminated by panelled lights on the side walls, doing their best to mimic natural sunlight. Despite the curvature of the space, unavoidable on the grav deck, it felt like a picnic at a park.
Aside from his surroundings, Max also took stock of who else was present. He saw Crapshoot and Topaz sitting together, playing cards with a few of the jumpship crew. He saw Behemoth in line ahead of Amon and Kalle. And then he saw Lilly, sitting alone, presumably waiting for her sister. Max smiled and headed over to chat.
Lilly suddenly looked up from her food and looked around hurriedly. Max wasn’t certain she saw him approaching, but he could tell something was amiss. Lilly had a pained look on her face and she jumped up from the table and ran towards a nearby exit as fast as her short legs could carry her.
Curious what had happened, Max followed. “It’s probably nothing.” he reasoned. “Maybe she got her period unexpectedly. Or maybe something she ate didn’t agree with her. Too many reconstituted meals and your belly becomes unused to decent food.”
Max stepped inside the room, which was really a short hallway that to led two restrooms and also to an airlock that led you back to the rest of the ship. Rather than intrude further, Max merely waited for Lilly to emerge.
The minutes ticked by and Max was beginning to worry. Then the door to the women’s room opened. Lilly was standing there, holding her coveralls against her chest but otherwise wearing nothing. The smell of feces was pungent in the air.
Lilly saw Max standing there and went pale white in horror. “Oh, my God, Max...” she darted back into the bathroom. “What the hell?” she growled, more mortified than angry.
Now it was Max’s turn to be embarrassed. “You dashed out of the breakfast awfully quick. I came to check on you.” he explained. “Sorry if I embarrassed you.”
Lilly poked her head out. “Um, that’s okay.” she said, her tone more even now. “I had a bit of an accident.”
“So I guessed. What can I do to help?”
“Devil’s choice.” she replied, more musing to herself than to Max. “Run all the way through the jumper back to the Argo with no clothes on or have some guy fetch some fresh ones from my quarters.”
Max was mildly unsettled by being referred to as “some guy.” It hurt a little that after two months of playful banter and flirting, which everyone on the ship had noticed, that they hadn’t progressed to actually dating. And now here again was another reminder of the distance that still lay between them.
“I’ll need to bypass code to your door.” said Max, taking the initiative. Each personal quarters on the Argo had thumbprint lock that normally only opened for the people who lived there, but there was always a numeric code to unlock the door in case of emergencies.
“10191.” Lilly admitted. “Just don’t snoop too much.”
“You should be more trusting of me by now.” Max thought to himself. He headed out the airlock and made his way back to the Argo. He knew where Lilly’s quarters were; as head tech, she was one of the few members of the Bombardiers to have private quarters. (Max, for instance, shared his with Crapshoot.)
Max had not been in one of the Argo’s private rooms and he was duly impressed as the bypass code let him inside. Lilly’s room was expansive, larger even than the space he shared with a fellow mechwarrior. He floated over to her wardrobe and found what he needed. Although tempted, he decided against snooping into her personal effects. Most of what was out in the open was what he expected from Lilly. Mounted to the walls were a motivational poster, a few pieces of art, and a concert poster from some Periphery rock band he’d never heard of that was signed by the band. On her bookshelf were some technical manuals and a few novels. One book however did catch his eye. A medical self-help book titled “Living with Inflammatory Bowel Disease.”
“Well, that explains the accident. Damn, that’s probably a secret Lilly wanted to keep to herself.” Max thought. He gathered up what he came for and made his way back to the jumper.
When he arrived back at the restrooms, he knocked on the women’s room door. There was no answer. Max dared to peak inside. He saw Lilly’s soiled underclothes on the floor and her feet under the stall walls. Grotesque sounds and grunts of pain filled the air.
Max withdrew back to the hallway to give her privacy. After a few minutes, she poked her head out.
“Did you hear all that?” she asked pointedly.
“It sounded like you were giving birth.” commented Max. “Or something equally painful.”
“That’s what it feels like sometimes. Thanks for my clothes.” She took the proffered bundle.
“You okay?”
She withdrew and answered through the door. “I will be. This is why I hate long space voyages. Too long in zero-gee and my gut goes haywire.”
“I saw the book in your room.” Max confessed. “About your disease.”
“You were going to find out sooner or later.” Lilly admitted. She emerged, looking better but very drained, as if the illness had sucked all the energy out of her. “It’s an incredible nuisance.” She confessed.
“I imagine it’s more than that. You look like hell.”
“Thanks.” She said flippantly. “Yeah. I can bleed to death. I can develop cancer. It’s a whole bundle of fun.” She paused and let out her breath in frustration. “It makes my life hell. And zero-gee is a guaranteed trigger. I hate long trips.”
“They ain’t fun for us who aren’t struggling with major illnesses either.” commented Max. “Crappy food. Stale air. Always being a little queasy because your body can’t tell which way is down.” He reached out and touched her shoulder affectionately. “Hey, whatever help I can be, just ask.”
She reached up and took his hand. “Thanks. I appreciate that.” She replied with a smile.
“I don’t guess you’re eager to go back to breakfast.”
“To eat? After that? God, no. But I’ll keep you company.”
“I’d like that.”
---
When they returned to the breakfast, the tone in the room had changed dramatically. There was tension in the air and everyone was speaking in frightened, hushed, tones. Max began asking a few questions and discovered that in the time he’d been helping Lily, two Jade Falcon jumpships had jumped into the system.
“So far, they’ve ignored us, seeing us as a civilian transport. I guess they don’t realize the Argo is a military ship.” said Behemoth. “Regardless, the jumper crew is very eager to get us on our way.”
“The very people we’re being paid to attack have come to us.” mused Lily to her sister. “I don’t guess we could go after them here and claim our pay.”
“That’s not how it works and you know it.” said Max.
“I just want out of space. Get a planet under me again.”
“Yeah, but one with an invading Jade Falcon army is not my idea of a sanctuary, no matter how bad you might be feeling.” Behemoth looked over at Max, gauging his reaction to her allusion to Lily’s medical condition.
Lily interjected before Behemoth could determine anything. “He knows. Caught me exploding all over the grav deck bathroom an hour or so ago.”
“You’re having symptoms already? Off to the infirmary with you, little sister. Pendragon, make sure she goes. That’s an order to you both.”
---
“Well,” began Dr. James Murad, the Argo’s Chief Medical Officer, “It’s what you expected. A flare. We’ve got a stock of steroids to keep the symptoms in check but we’re still a good two months before we’re planetside.”
“In other words, we’ll run out before we get to New Belfast.” sighed Lily.
“Any way we can get some more?” asked Max.
“Maybe,” said the Doc. “If a ship at one of the jump points going forward has got some to trade.”
“That’ll be hard if the Falcon’s have invaded this far. Our proposed course to New Belfast takes us right through the same systems they would have used to get to Summer.” mused Max.
“It’s a gamble no matter...” Dr. Murad paused as the ship shuddered. “That was a jump.”
“Yeah, I’m pretty sure our jumper was not eager to stick around any longer with a military dropship attached in the midst of an enemy raid or invasion.” said Lily.
A minute or so later, Behemoth joined them in the sick bay, “So, Doc, how is my sister?”
“Pretty sick. We’ve got the stockpile of medicine you both requested ready to go, but it’s not likely to last the whole journey.” replied Murad.
“The jumper captain just brought us to Lyons. I’ll see if we can trade for some more.”
“Any Falcon presence here?” asked Lily.
“Not yet. But I doubt we’d have to wait long. I'm shocked they’ve invaded this far already.” She paused. “That’s probably why we’ve been hired to hit one of their worlds. They’ve probably stripped every planet in their occupation zone to build up a force to take on both the Lyrans and the Republic.”
“One can hope.” Lily replied downtrodden.
“Either way, I want out of their path. We’ll take the Eastern corridor to New Belfast.” Behemoth said.
“That’ll take us through Clan Ghost Bear space. I’ve heard they have little patience for mercenaries.” said Max.
“They’ve mellowed somewhat since absorbing Rasalhague. Our business isn’t with them so I don’t expect trouble. Besides, moving through Clan space might get us better medicines to treat Lily’s illness.”
“True.” agreed the doctor.
“Well, I’m due a conversation with our captain.” said Behemoth. She looked at Max and gave him an affectionate pat on the shoulder. “I’m going to guess you don’t need another order to keep an eye on my sister, do you?”
“No.” said Max. Behemoth smiled and walked away.
“So how much have you told her?” Max asked Lily. “About us?”
“I haven’t needed to tell her anything. The whole damn crew knows I like you.” confessed Lily.
“Then why aren’t we a real couple at this point? You’ve been flirting with me for two months.” Max asked her pointedly.
“It’s fun.” Lily answered. She took his hand and gave it an affectionate squeeze, and then put her head back. “Whatever you gave me, Doc, is starting to kick in.” She said. Max looked at Murad.
“Just a mild sedative to let her rest.” said Murad, answering the unspoken question. “I know what she’s like on steroids. Bouncing off the walls and doing far more than she should in her condition. I’ll be in my office if you two have any need of me.” With that, the doc departed.
Lily smiled at Max. “Stay here until I fall asleep.” she purred.
Max leaned forward to give her a peck on the forehead. Lily, not so slowed by the sedative to miss what he was doing, jerked her head up so her lips caught his. “Don’t need any of that weak sauce stuff with me, Cowboy. If you want to kiss me, kiss me.”
“Is this what you were waiting for all along? Me to just take the initiative?”
“Yeppers. You’ve proven a lot more patient than all the others.”
“Others?”
“You ain’t the first rookie I’ve had a fling with.” she admitted.
“I’m not a rookie.”
“Twenty plus years in a battlemech doesn’t make you an expert in romance. You’re still a rookie.”
“So that’s why you call me that. You’re around ten years younger than I am and you think you have more experience with love?”
“I know I do. I’ve left the door open for you so many times now and you’ve not walked through it yet. A smarter man would have by now.”
“You think I’m clueless?”
“Somewhat. Intentionally so. The real story is that you’re cautious. Someone burned you hard once and you’re afraid to try again. Whoever she was, I’m not her.”
Max had to admit Lily’s intuition was spot on. Ever since Ashley Madeira broke his heart, he’d been reluctant to engage in any romantic gestures towards women. And that was a long time ago now. Max growled at himself. He should be over that by now, but he wasn’t.
He was about to speak again when he realized Lily had drifted off. “I guess it’s time for me to give myself a kick in the ass.” He whispered to her sleeping form. “Yeah, I got some wounds that ain’t healed up yet, and maybe you’re what I need to put all that behind me.” He leaned in and kissed her and then headed for the bridge.
---
Max floated onto the bridge. Behemoth was staring out into space and barely registered his arrival.
“The flares have been getting worse.” she mused. “Lily had one on our last assignment. Nearly bled to death. We spent most of our stored blood supply keeping her alive. One could argue that was why Catalyst died.” She turned and looked at Max. “Your predecessor.”
“That’s the sort of thing that might make a team angry. You made a call to save a family member over a mechwarrior.” Max wondered aloud.
“Nobody liked him. And everyone loves Lily.” said Behemoth with a smirk. “And that’s not exactly the real story anyway. It was a lot more complicated.”
“It always is.” said Max. “I can see why everyone likes your sister though. Cute. Charming. Always chipper and optimistic. Got a goofy sense of humor. What’s not to like?”
“You missed mentioning that pair of DDs.” said Behemoth with a smile. “I’m sure you’ve noticed.”
Max crossed his arms in a faux-perturbed fashion. “I’m certainly hoping that isn’t a reason everyone else likes her. I’d rather have that one for myself.” Max and Behemoth shared a laugh.
“She’s very fond of you, Pendragon.” said Behemoth, turning serious again.
“I know. We just talked about that a bit.” he replied.
“And what do you think of her? You seem awfully reluctant to accept what she’s offering.”
“Well, as she’s rightly observed, I’m a mite inexperienced in these things. I ain’t very good at catching even the low-flying clues. And a lot of that is because I didn’t want to. Got some bad history.”
“She won’t do wrong by you, Pendragon.”
“Not intentionally. That disease of hers, on the other hand, might make the decision for us.”
“So you’re just as worried about her as I am. Yeah, I guess she told you that her disease can kill her and, as I just mentioned, it’s already tried once. That time we were planetside with full hospital facilities. This time, we're out here in the void.”
“Is there any cure?”
“One that doesn’t involve carving her up like a turkey to remove half her digestive tract? There used to be as I understand it, back in the Star League days. But for all the things we’ve recovered since the Helm Memory Core was found a hundred years ago, our medical science is still lacking. If we were on Terra, New Avalon, or Tharkad, the doctors there might be able to do something. But we’re all Periphery rats. We get by with what we have.” She paused. “Or not.”
Behemoth was silent for a good while. Then she began to speak again. “I took this job to get us out of the Periphery. I had hoped, perhaps foolishly, that I’d have enough time to finish this job and then leverage our Republic benefactors to help Lily.” Her voice began to quiver with fear and sadness. “I just needed a few months. I guess we weren’t going to be that lucky.”
“Well, this ain’t the first hopeless cause that I’ve embraced.” said Max confidently. “She’s tough and I’ve got an idea that might help her out.”
“I’m listening.”
“Look, we’re heading to a world that’s been in Clan hands for around 50 years. If there’s one group in the Inner Sphere that still remembers the science and technology of the Star League, it’s the Clans. How much operational freedom do we have on New Belfast?”
“We’re to meet with a rebel cell when we make planetfall. Our operations are to coordinate to some degree, but not completely. We should have a good bit of independence. What do you have in mind?”
“Well, something they used to do during the old Succession Wars. Back then, knowledgeable scientists became a rare commodity and it was not unusual to send a BattleMech force to capture one. I say we do the same. Find us a Clan doctor who can treat Lily and kidnap him.”
“That might just work. I knew there was a reason I liked you. Maybe our employers were right about all this destiny crap. Maybe you are meant to be here.”
“Maybe. Thanks for listening.”
“She is my sister. And if you save her life from this thing, I’ll give you whatever you want.”
“I’ve got a job, a new BattleMech, and while I may have been clueless up until now, I know now I have your sister. Ain’t much more you could offer me. But if I hope to keep the latter, I have to do this.”
“You’ll have operational command, Pendragon. We’ll do this. We’ll find us a doctor and get Lily cured.”
Prefecture VIII, Republic of the Sphere
13 August 3134
Sunday morning. Two months into their journey. Max woke up as the duty shift bell rang, roughly 8 in the morning. He got up and went over to the small shrine he’d erected in the corner of his room and knelt down. He lit a candle and began to pray.
“I thank you, my Heavenly Father, through Jesus Christ, Your dear Son, that You have kept me this night from all harm and danger; and I pray that You would keep me this day also from sin and every evil....”
A loud knock at the door interrupted his prayer. Max stood up and went to the door. It opened to reveal Amon Kivisto, one of the mechwarriors from Bravo lance. “Hey, Pendragon, good morning.” The burly man bellowed. With his bushy beard and unkempt hair, Amon very much looked the part of his callsign: Viking.
“Um...” Max began.
“I caught you praying. Sorry. Finish, and then we can talk.”
Max returned to the shrine and finished his prayer while Amon waited patiently in the doorway. He extinguished the candle and Amon spoke again.
“So, Christian, what do you pray for?”
“Oh, the usual. Thanks for another day of life. Safe journeys as we travel through space. Fortune and wellbeing for my family back home. Victory over my enemies in battle. That sort of thing.”
“No ‘please have Lilly stop teasing and finally put out’?” Amon growled mirthfully.
“Ok, that too.” Max laughed. “So what do you pray for, Pagan?”
“Much the same. Safe journeys through space. Good fortune for my family. Victory over my enemies.” He paused. “And for Lady Viking to put out more.”
From behind Amon came a rough, but playful shove, from Kalle, Amon’s wife. “I hate it when you call me that.” she grumbled.
Kalle was another mechwarrior in Bravo lance; callsign “QueenBee.” She was Amon’s wife and the two of them had joined the Bombardiers several years ago. Both were from the Rasalhague Dominion and both were religiously Neo-Pagan. When they discovered Max was religious, albeit a different religion, they adopted him as their best friend. They would frequently have playful “theological discussions” similar to this conversation on prayer.
This had been the way of things over the past two months. Max had settled in nicely with his comrades. He was closest to Amon and Kalle, but had struck up friendships with most of the company. In his own lance, besides Behemoth, was also Crapshoot, the Davion gambler who piloted the Warhammer he’d first seen on arrival, and Topaz, an amber haired beauty from Kurita space. There was also Rampage and Dogfight in Bravo lance, also both from the Draconis Combine.
How so many folks from the far side of the Inner Sphere had ended up in a mercenary company that worked primarily in the Outward Periphery was a mystery to Max for a while, but it soon became clear. War and conflict was a rare thing in the post-Jihad Inner Sphere. Militaries had downsized and the Pax Republicana reigned, thanks to the dominance of the Republic of the Sphere and its laws. Those inclined to the military either found themselves stuck in boring garrison duty in their homelands or sought out the more violent frontiers.
Charlie lance was made up of Periphery natives whose families had likewise been members of the Bombardiers for several generations. Windchill and Scrap Iron were both from the Periphery frontier, their grandfathers had been pirates who wanted a more legit line of work. Flash was from a family that fled from the Outworlds Alliance as the Snow Raven Clan took over, stealing a then-brand-new Arbalest Battlemech as they did so. It had been passed down and was still in good condition, despite it being the only Clan technology mech in the unit. Livewire was the final pilot in the lance; her mother had been exiled from the Magistry of Canopus for marrying the wrong sort.
“So what brings you to see me this fine Sunday morning?” asked Max.
“Breakfast.” said Amon hungrily. “You know the jumper makes special breakfast on Sunday.”
“That we pay for.”
“Perk of a long journey. Me hungry. Eat now!”
Max followed Amon and Kalle through the Argo to the airlock that connected it to the jumper. They’d been at the nadir point of Summer for about a day as the jumpship recharged its hyperdrive for the next jump. They passed through the airlock and then made their way towards the grav deck of the jumpship.
Max stepped onto the grav deck and felt the comfortable feeling of gravity take hold. It was fake gravity, of course; generated by spinning the circular grav deck around to produce centrifugal force. But it was the only source of anything resembling planet-like conditions in space. The Argo had its own grav deck, but couldn’t deploy or activate it while attached to a jumpship. So he and the others in the Bombardiers had been spending a lot of time aboard the jumper to avoid going too crazy.
The jumpship crew had set up a spread for them and their own crew. Fresh eggs, sausages, bacon, cereal; a pretty typical Western European style breakfast buffet. Fresh food like this was often hard to come by during space voyages and so this was quite the treat to the people living aboard these spacecraft.
Amon and Kalle headed immediately to the line, leaving Max behind in a famished rush. That gave him the freedom to scope the room. It was as close to “outside” as one could get on a jumpship. There was no ceiling; Max could see straight up the 200 meters or so to the other side of the ring-like grav deck and see the rooms there from the top down. The ground was grass, planted in special hydroponic bins that cycled the water efficiently. It kept the air fresh and clean smelling. The space was illuminated by panelled lights on the side walls, doing their best to mimic natural sunlight. Despite the curvature of the space, unavoidable on the grav deck, it felt like a picnic at a park.
Aside from his surroundings, Max also took stock of who else was present. He saw Crapshoot and Topaz sitting together, playing cards with a few of the jumpship crew. He saw Behemoth in line ahead of Amon and Kalle. And then he saw Lilly, sitting alone, presumably waiting for her sister. Max smiled and headed over to chat.
Lilly suddenly looked up from her food and looked around hurriedly. Max wasn’t certain she saw him approaching, but he could tell something was amiss. Lilly had a pained look on her face and she jumped up from the table and ran towards a nearby exit as fast as her short legs could carry her.
Curious what had happened, Max followed. “It’s probably nothing.” he reasoned. “Maybe she got her period unexpectedly. Or maybe something she ate didn’t agree with her. Too many reconstituted meals and your belly becomes unused to decent food.”
Max stepped inside the room, which was really a short hallway that to led two restrooms and also to an airlock that led you back to the rest of the ship. Rather than intrude further, Max merely waited for Lilly to emerge.
The minutes ticked by and Max was beginning to worry. Then the door to the women’s room opened. Lilly was standing there, holding her coveralls against her chest but otherwise wearing nothing. The smell of feces was pungent in the air.
Lilly saw Max standing there and went pale white in horror. “Oh, my God, Max...” she darted back into the bathroom. “What the hell?” she growled, more mortified than angry.
Now it was Max’s turn to be embarrassed. “You dashed out of the breakfast awfully quick. I came to check on you.” he explained. “Sorry if I embarrassed you.”
Lilly poked her head out. “Um, that’s okay.” she said, her tone more even now. “I had a bit of an accident.”
“So I guessed. What can I do to help?”
“Devil’s choice.” she replied, more musing to herself than to Max. “Run all the way through the jumper back to the Argo with no clothes on or have some guy fetch some fresh ones from my quarters.”
Max was mildly unsettled by being referred to as “some guy.” It hurt a little that after two months of playful banter and flirting, which everyone on the ship had noticed, that they hadn’t progressed to actually dating. And now here again was another reminder of the distance that still lay between them.
“I’ll need to bypass code to your door.” said Max, taking the initiative. Each personal quarters on the Argo had thumbprint lock that normally only opened for the people who lived there, but there was always a numeric code to unlock the door in case of emergencies.
“10191.” Lilly admitted. “Just don’t snoop too much.”
“You should be more trusting of me by now.” Max thought to himself. He headed out the airlock and made his way back to the Argo. He knew where Lilly’s quarters were; as head tech, she was one of the few members of the Bombardiers to have private quarters. (Max, for instance, shared his with Crapshoot.)
Max had not been in one of the Argo’s private rooms and he was duly impressed as the bypass code let him inside. Lilly’s room was expansive, larger even than the space he shared with a fellow mechwarrior. He floated over to her wardrobe and found what he needed. Although tempted, he decided against snooping into her personal effects. Most of what was out in the open was what he expected from Lilly. Mounted to the walls were a motivational poster, a few pieces of art, and a concert poster from some Periphery rock band he’d never heard of that was signed by the band. On her bookshelf were some technical manuals and a few novels. One book however did catch his eye. A medical self-help book titled “Living with Inflammatory Bowel Disease.”
“Well, that explains the accident. Damn, that’s probably a secret Lilly wanted to keep to herself.” Max thought. He gathered up what he came for and made his way back to the jumper.
When he arrived back at the restrooms, he knocked on the women’s room door. There was no answer. Max dared to peak inside. He saw Lilly’s soiled underclothes on the floor and her feet under the stall walls. Grotesque sounds and grunts of pain filled the air.
Max withdrew back to the hallway to give her privacy. After a few minutes, she poked her head out.
“Did you hear all that?” she asked pointedly.
“It sounded like you were giving birth.” commented Max. “Or something equally painful.”
“That’s what it feels like sometimes. Thanks for my clothes.” She took the proffered bundle.
“You okay?”
She withdrew and answered through the door. “I will be. This is why I hate long space voyages. Too long in zero-gee and my gut goes haywire.”
“I saw the book in your room.” Max confessed. “About your disease.”
“You were going to find out sooner or later.” Lilly admitted. She emerged, looking better but very drained, as if the illness had sucked all the energy out of her. “It’s an incredible nuisance.” She confessed.
“I imagine it’s more than that. You look like hell.”
“Thanks.” She said flippantly. “Yeah. I can bleed to death. I can develop cancer. It’s a whole bundle of fun.” She paused and let out her breath in frustration. “It makes my life hell. And zero-gee is a guaranteed trigger. I hate long trips.”
“They ain’t fun for us who aren’t struggling with major illnesses either.” commented Max. “Crappy food. Stale air. Always being a little queasy because your body can’t tell which way is down.” He reached out and touched her shoulder affectionately. “Hey, whatever help I can be, just ask.”
She reached up and took his hand. “Thanks. I appreciate that.” She replied with a smile.
“I don’t guess you’re eager to go back to breakfast.”
“To eat? After that? God, no. But I’ll keep you company.”
“I’d like that.”
---
When they returned to the breakfast, the tone in the room had changed dramatically. There was tension in the air and everyone was speaking in frightened, hushed, tones. Max began asking a few questions and discovered that in the time he’d been helping Lily, two Jade Falcon jumpships had jumped into the system.
“So far, they’ve ignored us, seeing us as a civilian transport. I guess they don’t realize the Argo is a military ship.” said Behemoth. “Regardless, the jumper crew is very eager to get us on our way.”
“The very people we’re being paid to attack have come to us.” mused Lily to her sister. “I don’t guess we could go after them here and claim our pay.”
“That’s not how it works and you know it.” said Max.
“I just want out of space. Get a planet under me again.”
“Yeah, but one with an invading Jade Falcon army is not my idea of a sanctuary, no matter how bad you might be feeling.” Behemoth looked over at Max, gauging his reaction to her allusion to Lily’s medical condition.
Lily interjected before Behemoth could determine anything. “He knows. Caught me exploding all over the grav deck bathroom an hour or so ago.”
“You’re having symptoms already? Off to the infirmary with you, little sister. Pendragon, make sure she goes. That’s an order to you both.”
---
“Well,” began Dr. James Murad, the Argo’s Chief Medical Officer, “It’s what you expected. A flare. We’ve got a stock of steroids to keep the symptoms in check but we’re still a good two months before we’re planetside.”
“In other words, we’ll run out before we get to New Belfast.” sighed Lily.
“Any way we can get some more?” asked Max.
“Maybe,” said the Doc. “If a ship at one of the jump points going forward has got some to trade.”
“That’ll be hard if the Falcon’s have invaded this far. Our proposed course to New Belfast takes us right through the same systems they would have used to get to Summer.” mused Max.
“It’s a gamble no matter...” Dr. Murad paused as the ship shuddered. “That was a jump.”
“Yeah, I’m pretty sure our jumper was not eager to stick around any longer with a military dropship attached in the midst of an enemy raid or invasion.” said Lily.
A minute or so later, Behemoth joined them in the sick bay, “So, Doc, how is my sister?”
“Pretty sick. We’ve got the stockpile of medicine you both requested ready to go, but it’s not likely to last the whole journey.” replied Murad.
“The jumper captain just brought us to Lyons. I’ll see if we can trade for some more.”
“Any Falcon presence here?” asked Lily.
“Not yet. But I doubt we’d have to wait long. I'm shocked they’ve invaded this far already.” She paused. “That’s probably why we’ve been hired to hit one of their worlds. They’ve probably stripped every planet in their occupation zone to build up a force to take on both the Lyrans and the Republic.”
“One can hope.” Lily replied downtrodden.
“Either way, I want out of their path. We’ll take the Eastern corridor to New Belfast.” Behemoth said.
“That’ll take us through Clan Ghost Bear space. I’ve heard they have little patience for mercenaries.” said Max.
“They’ve mellowed somewhat since absorbing Rasalhague. Our business isn’t with them so I don’t expect trouble. Besides, moving through Clan space might get us better medicines to treat Lily’s illness.”
“True.” agreed the doctor.
“Well, I’m due a conversation with our captain.” said Behemoth. She looked at Max and gave him an affectionate pat on the shoulder. “I’m going to guess you don’t need another order to keep an eye on my sister, do you?”
“No.” said Max. Behemoth smiled and walked away.
“So how much have you told her?” Max asked Lily. “About us?”
“I haven’t needed to tell her anything. The whole damn crew knows I like you.” confessed Lily.
“Then why aren’t we a real couple at this point? You’ve been flirting with me for two months.” Max asked her pointedly.
“It’s fun.” Lily answered. She took his hand and gave it an affectionate squeeze, and then put her head back. “Whatever you gave me, Doc, is starting to kick in.” She said. Max looked at Murad.
“Just a mild sedative to let her rest.” said Murad, answering the unspoken question. “I know what she’s like on steroids. Bouncing off the walls and doing far more than she should in her condition. I’ll be in my office if you two have any need of me.” With that, the doc departed.
Lily smiled at Max. “Stay here until I fall asleep.” she purred.
Max leaned forward to give her a peck on the forehead. Lily, not so slowed by the sedative to miss what he was doing, jerked her head up so her lips caught his. “Don’t need any of that weak sauce stuff with me, Cowboy. If you want to kiss me, kiss me.”
“Is this what you were waiting for all along? Me to just take the initiative?”
“Yeppers. You’ve proven a lot more patient than all the others.”
“Others?”
“You ain’t the first rookie I’ve had a fling with.” she admitted.
“I’m not a rookie.”
“Twenty plus years in a battlemech doesn’t make you an expert in romance. You’re still a rookie.”
“So that’s why you call me that. You’re around ten years younger than I am and you think you have more experience with love?”
“I know I do. I’ve left the door open for you so many times now and you’ve not walked through it yet. A smarter man would have by now.”
“You think I’m clueless?”
“Somewhat. Intentionally so. The real story is that you’re cautious. Someone burned you hard once and you’re afraid to try again. Whoever she was, I’m not her.”
Max had to admit Lily’s intuition was spot on. Ever since Ashley Madeira broke his heart, he’d been reluctant to engage in any romantic gestures towards women. And that was a long time ago now. Max growled at himself. He should be over that by now, but he wasn’t.
He was about to speak again when he realized Lily had drifted off. “I guess it’s time for me to give myself a kick in the ass.” He whispered to her sleeping form. “Yeah, I got some wounds that ain’t healed up yet, and maybe you’re what I need to put all that behind me.” He leaned in and kissed her and then headed for the bridge.
---
Max floated onto the bridge. Behemoth was staring out into space and barely registered his arrival.
“The flares have been getting worse.” she mused. “Lily had one on our last assignment. Nearly bled to death. We spent most of our stored blood supply keeping her alive. One could argue that was why Catalyst died.” She turned and looked at Max. “Your predecessor.”
“That’s the sort of thing that might make a team angry. You made a call to save a family member over a mechwarrior.” Max wondered aloud.
“Nobody liked him. And everyone loves Lily.” said Behemoth with a smirk. “And that’s not exactly the real story anyway. It was a lot more complicated.”
“It always is.” said Max. “I can see why everyone likes your sister though. Cute. Charming. Always chipper and optimistic. Got a goofy sense of humor. What’s not to like?”
“You missed mentioning that pair of DDs.” said Behemoth with a smile. “I’m sure you’ve noticed.”
Max crossed his arms in a faux-perturbed fashion. “I’m certainly hoping that isn’t a reason everyone else likes her. I’d rather have that one for myself.” Max and Behemoth shared a laugh.
“She’s very fond of you, Pendragon.” said Behemoth, turning serious again.
“I know. We just talked about that a bit.” he replied.
“And what do you think of her? You seem awfully reluctant to accept what she’s offering.”
“Well, as she’s rightly observed, I’m a mite inexperienced in these things. I ain’t very good at catching even the low-flying clues. And a lot of that is because I didn’t want to. Got some bad history.”
“She won’t do wrong by you, Pendragon.”
“Not intentionally. That disease of hers, on the other hand, might make the decision for us.”
“So you’re just as worried about her as I am. Yeah, I guess she told you that her disease can kill her and, as I just mentioned, it’s already tried once. That time we were planetside with full hospital facilities. This time, we're out here in the void.”
“Is there any cure?”
“One that doesn’t involve carving her up like a turkey to remove half her digestive tract? There used to be as I understand it, back in the Star League days. But for all the things we’ve recovered since the Helm Memory Core was found a hundred years ago, our medical science is still lacking. If we were on Terra, New Avalon, or Tharkad, the doctors there might be able to do something. But we’re all Periphery rats. We get by with what we have.” She paused. “Or not.”
Behemoth was silent for a good while. Then she began to speak again. “I took this job to get us out of the Periphery. I had hoped, perhaps foolishly, that I’d have enough time to finish this job and then leverage our Republic benefactors to help Lily.” Her voice began to quiver with fear and sadness. “I just needed a few months. I guess we weren’t going to be that lucky.”
“Well, this ain’t the first hopeless cause that I’ve embraced.” said Max confidently. “She’s tough and I’ve got an idea that might help her out.”
“I’m listening.”
“Look, we’re heading to a world that’s been in Clan hands for around 50 years. If there’s one group in the Inner Sphere that still remembers the science and technology of the Star League, it’s the Clans. How much operational freedom do we have on New Belfast?”
“We’re to meet with a rebel cell when we make planetfall. Our operations are to coordinate to some degree, but not completely. We should have a good bit of independence. What do you have in mind?”
“Well, something they used to do during the old Succession Wars. Back then, knowledgeable scientists became a rare commodity and it was not unusual to send a BattleMech force to capture one. I say we do the same. Find us a Clan doctor who can treat Lily and kidnap him.”
“That might just work. I knew there was a reason I liked you. Maybe our employers were right about all this destiny crap. Maybe you are meant to be here.”
“Maybe. Thanks for listening.”
“She is my sister. And if you save her life from this thing, I’ll give you whatever you want.”
“I’ve got a job, a new BattleMech, and while I may have been clueless up until now, I know now I have your sister. Ain’t much more you could offer me. But if I hope to keep the latter, I have to do this.”
“You’ll have operational command, Pendragon. We’ll do this. We’ll find us a doctor and get Lily cured.”
Wednesday, March 6, 2019
Chapter Seven – Pleasure Planet
Nadir Jump Point
Styx
Dieron Military District, Draconis Combine
2 January 3056
Gwen stepped out onto the bridge of the Pegasus as the dropship slowly maneuvered into position to dock with the jumpship. Logan was overseeing the docking operation.
“How’s the headache?” she asked him.
“Better. A day to get drunk and a day to recover from the hangover.” He replied flippantly.
“So where we going?”
“We’ll make for Outreach. File a claim for breech of contract against the Star Swords and be done with this stupid mission.” Grumbled Logan. Whatever sleep he’d gotten hadn’t tempered his anger much.
“Logan, can we talk about that?” asked Gwen calmly.
“My mind is made up.” Replied Logan sternly.
“You haven’t heard my position yet. Would you at least give me that much?”
“I heard enough. I heard what you think of my leadership, about how I don’t care about my own troops. About how this is all a game to me. And I saw what you did to us on Styx, running off in the middle of the battle. What else you going to tell me and why should I trust anything you tell me?”
“I was wrong about you and for that I’m sorry.”
Logan flinched as if stung. Of all the answers he was expecting, that was the one he least expected.
“You spent the last 24 hours recovering from a hangover. After hearing your story about the bank job, I went around talking to your men, hearing their stories, their impressions. They tell much the same story. You’ve got a big mouth and talk a good game, but they all said that when the chips are down, you’ve always come through. Whatever lesson you learned that day on New Oslo, you’ve put to good use. Your troops would follow you to the end of the universe and back if need be. You can’t buy loyalty like that, so there must be a lot more to you than you let on. Karl was right. I was wrong.”
Logan was quiet for a moment. “Apology accepted, but it changes little. You still endangered my men by acting recklessly. And there’s still the factor of risk. This job ain’t worth it. My decision stands.”
“You want to know why I went off on my own the other day?” said Gwen, her own voice rising. “You want to talk about risk. What parts of our jobs don’t involve risk? We’re soldiers and mercenaries. We put our lives at risk all the damn time.”
“Not foolishly.” Retorted Logan.
“Is it truly foolish? Let me tell you a story about me, Logan, about why I took the chance I did the other day. About why I’m here and about why I think this operation is worth every risk. Eight years ago, the Clans came to my homeworld. They attacked it, they sacked its cities, burned them to the ground. They killed as many of us as they could. Forty-eight hours of rampage and pillaging and they nearly drove us to extinction.”
“Clans don’t normally do that. Even they aren’t that brutal.”
“They were to us. My mother, my father, my younger sister, all dead. I lost everything that day.”
“Not quite everything. You kept your life and some of your friends. I’ve heard this story before, from some of your fellow Star Swords.”
“Then you know the truth of it. Not a day goes by, Logan, where I don’t wish I could go back and somehow change things. To have my family again, my home, all the things I lost. Now tell me the punk kid who grew up on the streets of Rasalhague, abandoned and unloved by his father, doesn’t wish for the same thing.”
She paused to let her comments sink in. “We’re more alike than you know.”
Logan looked away, momentarily bracing himself as the dropship docked. “Touché.” He replied.
“Out there is a little boy who is very much in danger of sharing our fate. Separated from his family, flung far from his home. Unlike our stories, this time there’s something we can do about that. The question is, is the risk worth it to keep someone else from growing up like us? And only you can answer that, Logan.” Gwen began to walk away.
“Jumpship is requesting a destination system, sir.” Said the dropship skipper.
“Gwen,” barked Logan without turning. “Where is O’Malley going?”
“He’s hunting the ISF agent who murdered his wife. She retired on Baldur, the Combine’s pleasure planet.”
“Skipper, tell the jumper to calculate a course for the Baldur system.” He looked back at Gwen. “One less tragic story like ours is a cause worth the risk.”
“You are a better man than I gave you credit, Logan.”
“I’m full of surprises. You could give me the benefit of the doubt, perhaps over dinner tonight.” His grim and angry countenance melted back to the flippant rascal once more.
“Can’t be too noble, can you?”
“Well, I do have a reputation as a scoundrel to uphold.”
Dropship Pegasus
Aix-la-Chapelle system
Benjamin Military District, Draconis Combine
3 March 3056
“You know, Logan, I thought we were going home.” Commented Kai.
The Rangers had gathered in the cargo bay of the dropship. They were now a single jump from their destination and Logan had called a meeting to get a rundown on the nature of the planet Baldur. After another extended period in space, it was obvious the Rangers were a bit raucous and eager to get planetside.
“I changed my mind again, Kai.” Said Logan. ”Miss Laidir can be very persuasive.”
“She finally give you that blow job you wanted?” said Malcolm flippantly. The assembled Dark Rangers laughed, all save one.
“That’s quite enough.” Snarled Rohan angrily, his voice rising above the din.
“Someone’s jealous.” Teased Kai.
“Alright, Rohan’s right. Keep it down. We are in the presence of a lady.” Said Logan, trying to calm the crowd. “Especially one that has things we need to know about our destination.” The crowds chuckles and comments reduced to a murmur as Gwen stepped forward. “Ok, Miss ISF, you now have the floor. Tell us about this place.” Asked Logan.
“Most of you either have lived or have worked within the Draconis Combine before. To say that the lifestyle of your typical Combine citizen is austere is an understatement. However, some things are still true even within a society as spartan as this one. The rich and the powerful are still afforded certain luxuries. The planet we'll be jumping to shortly is one of them.
“Baldur began, ironically, as a religious colony. It was settled by a group of Norse neo-pagans who gave the planet its name. That colony ultimately failed for reasons still not entirely understood. A century or so later, the Combine moved in and found the planet perfect for recreation. That became its primary industry. The wealthy and the powerful would use this planet for holiday and many of them once their service to the Dragon was done would retire here and live out their days in hedonistic pleasure.”
“So what sort of recreation can we expect to find here?” asked Greyson.
“The Combine turns a blind eye to the excesses that take place here, so you have a planet where literally anything and everything is available. You have sports like skiing and snowboarding, mountain biking, etc. You have some of the best beaches in the Inner Sphere. Amusement parks.”
“Sounds pretty innocuous to me.” Said Veron.
“Let me finish. In addition to all that wonderful family fare, you also have some of the highest quality brothels and opium dens in the Combine. Casinos and gambling parlors. If you want the innocent, it’s there. If you want the decadent, it’s there too. More than enough to whet the appetites of this crowd.”
An eager roar came up from the Rangers. Gwen paused for their revelry to calm before continuing. “There are a couple of things to keep in mind. The Yakuza’s presence is strong there, and they do not tolerate miscreants messing with their businesses. Crime is low because the criminals ensure it stays low. Also, with so many wealthy and powerful nobles either visiting or making their homes there, the DCMS provides them with some of the best protection available. One of the elite Sword of Light regiments is always permanently based there.”
“In other words, they’re going to take a dim view to us tromping around in our Battlemechs messing with things.” Said Logan.
“Agreed. We’re back to all that private eye stuff you so love.” Teased Gwen. “Still, if we’re denied our Battlemechs, so too will O’Malley. The odds will be more even there than on Styx.”
Malcolm raised his hand. “Sir, when do we expect O’Malley to arrive?”
Logan shrugged and looked to Gwen. “Scuttlebutt across the newsnets in the systems we’ve visited since leaving Styx indicates that the DCMS has already responded to the rebellion there. Depending on how long the Highlander renegades hold out, he could be anywhere from two to three weeks behind us.” She paused. “That’s assuming he’s traveling with his troops. Coming alone, or with a small retinue, he may be considerably sooner.”
“But there’s at least a little time for some R&R when we arrive?” replied Malcolm.
“More than likely.” Said Logan. “However, some of you are going to have some jobs to do the moment we touch down. Doc, I want network access. I want to know the name of every single dropship, aerospace fighter, shuttle, and meteor that lands on this planet and the name of every single person aboard them. Craig, we’ve got three mechwarriors, yourself included, in need of new rides. I need you to do your magic as best you can.”
“I’ll see what I can dig up. With the Sword of Light on station here, there should be a few cast offs or mothballs a greedy quartermaster might be willing to ‘lose.’”
“As for the rest of you, we’ve been in space a lot these past few months. A few days furlough could do us some good.”
The loudspeaker came to life, “Prejump countdown in one hour.”
“Okay, secure for jump.” Said Logan with a dramatic clap. “We’ll be in the Baldur system in two hours. Company dismissed.”
The crowd parted and Rohan pushed through to Gwen. “I’m sorry they said those things about you.”
“You don’t need to defend my honor, Rohan.” Said Gwen. “They’ve been cooped up in here a long time and tongues are wagging about why Logan had his change of heart.”
“You’re not saying they were right?”
“If I thought it would get Logan back on track, you’re damn right I’d have gotten down on my knees. Turns out it required somewhat less. I’m no prude, Rohan. I lost my virginity at age 12, which is about average for my homeworld. Nothing they could say about me could even remotely ruffle my feathers. Let them have their fantasies, especially if it keeps them occupied on an otherwise dull space voyage.”
“It’s just that…”
Gwen gave Rohan an affectionate pat on the cheek. “Your chivalry is commendable, Rohan. One of the things I like about you. Come on. We’ve a jump to prep for.”
Odin City Starport, Baldur
Benjamin Military District, Draconis Combine
7 March 3056
“It is not an uncommon thing for mercenary troops to be hired by the various nobles and industrialists who visit our fair planet.” Said Shotastu Komei, the ISF liaison, as he met with Logan, Rohan, and Gwen in the cargo hold of the Pegasus. “Nor is it all that unusual for small outfits like yourself to come here uninvited in hopes to find such work. When you find work, I will know about it. However, until and after such time as you find decent employment, I do expect you and your troops to abide by our laws. Your Battlemechs and other military equipment will remain within this dropship. Any deviation from this regulation will be regarded as a hostile act against the Dragon and will be dealt with by deadly force.” He stopped, turned, and glared at Logan. “Is that perfectly clear?”
Logan nodded.
“You may carry your personal sidearms, but do keep them concealed. As you might expect, if you brandish them casually or use them to threaten the citizens or visitors of this planet without cause, there will be consequences. And I will know when such incidents take place. This planet exists for the leisure of the Dragon and his close associates. You are here at his pleasure. Do not abuse that privilege, mercenary.”
One of the ISF agent’s associates marched up to him and handed him a datapad. “Your crew have been duly logged with the ISF here on Baldur. I will know if and when any of them misbehave and their conduct will show badly on you. Our business is concluded. Welcome to Baldur.”
With that, Komei turned and left with his retinue. Logan sneered immaturely at the man as he stepped out of the dropship bay.
“And I will know when you scratch your ass.” He said in a mocking tone. “Is everyone on this planet a fucking snitch?”
“Not quite everyone, but don’t underestimate him because of his pompous attitude.” Said Gwen. “There’s enough money and power in the residents and visitors of this planet to ensure that security is maintained and maintained well.”
“O’Malley is ballsy to want to try to assassinate anyone living here.” Said Rohan.
“Indeed, but vengeance isn’t always rational, as other O’Malleys have proven.”
“Never mind O’Malley’s problems. We’re going to have a tough time moving about ourselves.” Said Logan.
“Any world this tight-assed is going to have an extensive underground.” Said Rohan. “Don’t worry. We’ll find our room to maneuver.”
“Until then, let’s take advantage of that furlough I promised.” Said Logan, going over to a wall communicator. “Attention all personnel, this Logan speaking. We have arrived on Baldur and have been cleared through ISF. You have 72 hours furlough. Play nice, but enjoy yourselves.”
Even from their location in the cavernous cargo hold of the dropship, the shout of joy from the troops could be heard clearly. “Well, that was some good news.”
Rohan nodded. “Gwen, would you care to join me for our initial reconnaissance of this planet?”
“Is that how you ask a girl on a date?”
Rohan shrugged sheepishly. “I thought it was clever.”
“Need to work on that.” Said Gwen with a laugh. “But the answer is yes.”
---
Komei marched away from the Pegasus with a smug look on his face. As he reached his car, a figure stepped out of the shadow of a nearby hanger.
“You’re a bold one, Lord Baron.”
“What did you do with them?”
“Nothing more than my usual spiel to ruffians who visit my planet.”
“You should have confined them, held them. What am I paying you for?”
“I am in a delicate position, good sir. The reputation of the Dark Rangers precedes them. Were I to restrain their movements without cause, odds are good they’d be shooting up the place within hours. And I hardly want the 2nd Sword’s commander breathing down my neck for failing to keep the peace. No, give them time. They’ll foul up soon enough. Do-gooders like them are bound to find something objectionable here, some injustice they can’t simply stand by and watch. When they do, then I’ll have my rationale to confine them. Just wait.”
“And Yamada?”
“Tracking down a single retired ISF agent here on Baldur takes time. I will let you know once I find something.”
“She was one of your colleagues, Komei.”
“A generation back. I have enough to keep me busy in the present. Sniffing around in the past is not my line.”
“I’m making it your line, you greedy bastard.” The man offered forth a wad of K-Bills.
“Tsk. You think so little of me. I may be corrupt, but I do keep my word. Yamada swings both ways. When she gets frisky, you may find her at the Golden Dragon. She has a few favorites there among the ladies.”
The man stepped back into the shadows and disappeared from view. Komei watched him go before stepping into his car. “And you may find more than you bargained for once you get there, Lord O’Malley.” Komei muttered to himself with a wicked smile.
The Dragonstar, Odin City, Baldur
Benjamin Military District, Draconis Combine
8 March 3056
“Remarkable place.” Said Rohan, looking out the window from their table at the city beyond. “It’s after midnight local time and this place is still alive with activity.”
Gwen followed his gaze out onto the brightly lit neon of the city. “Somehow, I suspect the brothels, casinos, and other entertainments of this city never close. Take this restaurant, for instance. Fine Asian cuisine at 1:00am local and there’s plenty of people here.”
“I can see why people come here. Why they want to live here. I grew up in the Combine. Like Logan, I grew up in the Rasalhague district, born, went to school on Trondheim. Unlike his family, I stayed loyal to the Dragon when independence came. All my life, I’d heard stories of Baldur, the paradise planet. For all those stories, only the very wealthy or connected ever set foot here.”
“And yet here you are.”
“Yeah, here with a very un-paradise like job to do. Stop an assassination.”
“Oh, I could care less about whether O’Malley succeeds at taking out Agent Yamada or not. I want Daniel.”
“Do we have any certainty that he would bring the boy with him? Seems an odd mission to bring your toddler grandson along on.”
“It does, but consider the alternative. Leave him on Styx with the DCMS bearing down on your troops? Not likely. As dangerous as his mission here is, it’s far safer than what O’Malley and his troops did back there.” Gwen picked up a bit of rice from her plate, ate it, and then pointed her chopsticks at Rohan. “One thing to keep in mind. O’Malley and Daniel are tied by blood. It’s the reason Daniel was kidnapped in the first place. Family bonds, blood ties, all these things we have to remember, because they mean that O’Malley is not going to put the boy in danger if he can avoid it.”
“Are you saying O’Malley loves Daniel?”
“I am. What grandfather wouldn’t love his grandson?” said Gwen. “There’s little evidence that Baron Ian is mentally unstable like his sons were. If we assume that’s true, then Baron Ian is a rational agent in terms of his dealings with Daniel. He will choose the safer course with his grandson.”
“You said yourself that attacking Yamada was irrational.”
“Maybe, maybe not. O’Malley may not be fully aware of the security arrangements here. Besides that, Yamada hurt him, worse than you and I can imagine. He lost his wife to Yamada’s scheming on Northwind all those years ago, an act that rippled through his sons and warped them into the monsters they became. O’Malley has more reason to hate her than anyone else in this universe. In a lot of ways, I understand where he’s coming from. This is a once in a lifetime opportunity to deal justice.”
“Justice? Or revenge?”
“Not much difference, is there? In O’Malley’s mind, you can bet he thinks of this as justice.”
Rohan shrugged. “Either way, it makes him vulnerable. His coming here has given us another chance to nab him.”
Gwen nodded. “Still a big planet though. A lot of places a man like him could hide. He’s well connected and very affluent. A Clan Elder of Northwind, even one on the lam, has considerable resources to bring to bear.”
“Let’s hope Doc can come up with something then. I feel for him. Us having a nice dinner here. Logan and some of the others also painting the town red. Doc in front of a computer terminal.”
“Not sure he’d have it any other way.” Said Gwen, raising her glass.
Series of Tubes Cybercafe, Odin City
Baldur
Benjamin Military District, Draconis Combine
8 March 3056
Doc set his steaming cup of green tea on the table and then carefully placed his laptop computer next to it. Looking about, he saw most of the clientele of the café was doing similar activities, typing away on laptops or on the handful of desktop computers lining the walls.
“Hiding in plain sight.” He mused to himself. “I must be crazy to try this here.”
Doc brought up his web browser, hopeful that the network protocols on Baldur were not too alien to his Davion-purchased and programmed computer. One of the drawbacks of the proliferation of humankind across the stars was that computers sometimes had a difficult time talking to one another again, much as it was in the early days of computing during the late 20th century. Each nation had its own interweb protocols, and sometimes those same protocols differed from planet to planet.
Seeing few errors, Doc let out his breath. He immediately typed in the address for the spaceport and began to see what he could penetrate. He was seeking anything that might tip them off to when O’Malley might be arriving: dropship arrivals, passenger manifests, whatever he could find. He didn’t anticipate that he would find anything of value yet, but Doc was hopefully that he could at least penetrate the system’s security with a minimum of fuss.
Years of hacking Battlemech computer systems had given Doc a good bit of skill with computer systems, something that had served him fairly well on previous missions with the Dark Rangers. “Sometimes, I think I wear too many hats.” He complained to himself. “Repair technician, computer hacker, inventor, medic, mechwarrior…”
“You won’t get in that way.” Said a girl’s voice behind him.
Doc jumped in his seat. He immediately reached to close his laptop, but also knew that his observer had already seen everything incriminating about his activities. He turned to see who it was who had discovered him.
It was a teenage girl sitting at the table behind him with a laptop of her own. Buxom, petite, with blue eyes and pink dyed hair. She gave him a playful wink.
“You shouldn’t be so nosy.”
“I’m sorry, but I couldn’t help it. This isn’t exactly the most private place to be doing something like that.”
“I had hoped that most folks would be too absorbed in their own doings to much care what I was up to.”
“Most would, but you kinda stand out.” Said the girl with a slight giggle. “When most of the off-worlders to Baldur are Asian nobles, industrialists, and other bigwigs, a man standing over 2 meters in height gets noticed.”
“Not everyone who lives in the Combine is Asian by ethnicity.” Instructed Doc. “And not all Asians are short in stature.”
“True on both counts, but most of the rich hotshots who come to this planet are. And since you feel the need to instruct me about the very nation in which I’ve lived my entire life, I’m guessing you’re not native to the Combine yourself. Let me guess: Davion.”
“Capellan actually. Although on one of the planets Prince Hanse conquered in the Fourth War.”
The girl laughed. “I knew I had you pegged as an off-worlder, but I guess I don’t know everything. You’re a merc, probably working for one of those same bigwigs I see everyday. So what makes you or your boss so interested in the spaceport network?”
“That is none of your business.”
“Suit yourself, but you’ll never get through the security using the techniques I just watched. System there is pretty secure.”
“And how would you know?”
The girl shrugged. “That is none of your business.”
Doc caught onto the game. “I’m looking for somebody. Someone who’s due to arrive on this world in the next few weeks and months.”
The girl smiled. “I’ve hacked it myself. It’s not easy.”
“Could you do it again?”
“Sure, but not here. And what’s it worth to you, merc?”
“What’s your price?”
“Favors to be named later.” Said the girl.
“I’m not sure I like being kept in the dark, kid.”
“You want my help or not? Look, off-worlder, I don’t need money. I’m not some starving street waif. The stuff you might offer me for my assistance is nothing I need. But favors, help with the bigwigs who run this planet, that’s worth its weight in gold.”
“Alright, consider it a deal.”
“Come with me. By the way, my friends call me Pix.”
“Mine call me Doc.”
The Golden Dragon, Odin City
Baldur
Benjamin Military District, Draconis Combine
8 March 3056
“I think we’ve stumbled onto something here.” Said Logan, simmering in a hot tub while a young woman in a bikini massaged his shoulders.
“You do know how to pick them.” Said Cowboy, enjoying a similar massage while smoking on a cigar.
Logan put up his hands in feigned humility. “What can I say? I have a gift.”
“This place looks pretty high class.” Said Cowboy, looking about. The room they were in was well decorated in an East Asian style. Red and gold wallpaper, faux Ming vases, pictures with Chinese calligraphy, and the like.
“I’d say.” Said Logan, pointing towards the open door. One could look out from their spa room into the main common area. “Look at the clientele here.”
Cowboy followed Logan’s finger. Out in the common area, he could see several distinguished looking men in military uniforms. Cowboy knew enough about Combine rank insignia to note they were high ranking officers: Battalion commanders.
“Bigwigs from the Second Sword of Light.” He mused aloud.
“Indeed. Interesting place, this pleasure planet.”
“Gwen did warn us about its decadence.”
“Decadence is why I’m here. I wouldn’t expect any less from a high money brothel like this one. In a few minutes, I’m going to take this lovely young thing upstairs and have my way with her on silk sheets.” Logan laughed.
“Fighting and fucking, right?”
“Best life we mercs can hope for.” Logan laid back and closed his eyes, taking in the pleasure of his massage.
Cowboy finished his cigar and stood up. “On that note, I think I’m going to go enjoy my time with this young lady.”
“Enjoy.” Said Logan without opening his eyes.
Cowboy took the proffered towel from his escort and began to dry himself off. As he did so, he noted the arrival of another client to the brothel, an older but attractive Asian woman in her mid-50s. “They take all comers here, don’t they?” he asked of his escort. She gave no answer, but merely smiled and nodded.
Logan’s eyes popped open and he looked himself. “Money buys all things, doesn’t it? Even a romp in the sheets for an aged lesbian like that.” He paused. “She looks familiar.”
“I’m thinking the same thing.” Said Cowboy. They watched as the woman picked our her escort, a fetching young redhead.
“She has good taste.” Said Logan. “Might have to select that one next time.”
“Yamada.” Said Cowboy, recognition coming to him at last. “That’s Keiko Yamada, the ISF agent O’Malley’s looking for.”
Logan sat up. “You sure?”
“Yeah, that’s her alright.” He looked to his escort, expecting her to somehow confirm his suspicions. But the young woman gave no sign and merely offered him a silken robe.
“Fetch me my regular clothes.” Cowboy ordered.
“You’re done?” asked Logan incredulously. “Come on. Reporting this can wait. Enjoy yourself. Yamada’s not going anywhere.”
Cowboy’s girl stood silent, waiting for further confirmation one way or the other as to what to do next. “Very well. But do fetch me my personal communicator.”
“As you wish, kind sir.” She said, disappearing out the door.
“You’re as bad as Gwen. Always on duty.”
“Somehow, I think you’ve got her as wrong as she had you. You’ve seen the way Rohan looks at her. I get the feeling tonight’s going to end very interestingly for the two of them.”
Access Train to Odin City Starport
Baldur
Benjamin Military District, Draconis Combine
9 March 3056
Rohan and Gwen stepped onto the platform after walking back from their meal largely in silence. After a quick glance to see if the train was coming, Gwen turned to him.
“You know, you didn’t seem to have much trouble chatting at the restaurant.”
Rohan shrugged. “Just taking in the beautiful night.” He paused. “Made all the better by pleasant company.”
Gwen smiled. “Are you embarrassed to ask or do you just think it improper on the first date?”
“Excuse me?”
“You’ve spent the last ten minutes since we left the Dragonstar milling over in your mind if and how you were going to ask me to spend the night with you.”
Rohan blushed. “I didn’t think I was that obvious.” He let out his breath.
“You’re not accustomed to all this, are you?”
“I’m a fighting man. Have been so all my life. I had a few girlfriends, Director Noriko first and foremost among them.”
The train barreled into the station, its noise silencing their conversation briefly. Gwen moved to board and Rohan followed. Their conversation continued once they sat down.
“Anyway, as I was saying,” continued Rohan. “I’m just not that good at this dating stuff.”
“I have a confession to make then.” Said Gwen. “Neither am I. You see, I come from a world where courtship is a lot less formalized. All the stuff that you people put yourselves through to win another’s attention.”
“Is it really so odd? Your pursuit of a certain general officer in the Star Swords is not exactly a secret.”
“Case in point.” Said Gwen. “I wasn’t very subtle about that, now was I? Why then do you feel the need to be subtle with me? Remember what I told you a few days ago about my upbringing. I’m no prude. If you want me, say so.”
“I want you.” Said Rohan.
Gwen leaned over and planted a kiss on Rohan’s lips. “What were you afraid of?”
“You said ‘no’ to Logan.”
“You’re not Logan.” She kissed him again and again, passionately. Rohan pulled her into his arms.
And then, Gwen’s personal communicator went off.
She pulled back from Rohan. “This,” she said with frustration. “had better be good.” She pulled the communicator from her belt and answered it. “Laidir here.”
“Gwen! It’s Cowboy. A bit of luck.”
“I should hope. I was about to get lucky.” There was a pause on the other end for a second. Gwen smiled. She was enjoying making the conversation as awkward as possible.
“Um, well, sorry to disturb you, but I…ah…or rather Logan and I, we saw something, someone. Yamada, we saw her here at the Golden Dragon brothel.”
Gwen dropped the game and got serious. “Excellent. O’Malley’s quarry drops in our lap. No real surprise that she’d be there. Most of us who trained under her knew she was interested in the ladies as much as the men. If it’s known that she frequents there, we may be able to lure O’Malley into a trap. See what you can find out. Laidir out.” She closed the communicator before Cowboy could respond further.
“Where were we?” asked Rohan slyly.
Styx
Dieron Military District, Draconis Combine
2 January 3056
Gwen stepped out onto the bridge of the Pegasus as the dropship slowly maneuvered into position to dock with the jumpship. Logan was overseeing the docking operation.
“How’s the headache?” she asked him.
“Better. A day to get drunk and a day to recover from the hangover.” He replied flippantly.
“So where we going?”
“We’ll make for Outreach. File a claim for breech of contract against the Star Swords and be done with this stupid mission.” Grumbled Logan. Whatever sleep he’d gotten hadn’t tempered his anger much.
“Logan, can we talk about that?” asked Gwen calmly.
“My mind is made up.” Replied Logan sternly.
“You haven’t heard my position yet. Would you at least give me that much?”
“I heard enough. I heard what you think of my leadership, about how I don’t care about my own troops. About how this is all a game to me. And I saw what you did to us on Styx, running off in the middle of the battle. What else you going to tell me and why should I trust anything you tell me?”
“I was wrong about you and for that I’m sorry.”
Logan flinched as if stung. Of all the answers he was expecting, that was the one he least expected.
“You spent the last 24 hours recovering from a hangover. After hearing your story about the bank job, I went around talking to your men, hearing their stories, their impressions. They tell much the same story. You’ve got a big mouth and talk a good game, but they all said that when the chips are down, you’ve always come through. Whatever lesson you learned that day on New Oslo, you’ve put to good use. Your troops would follow you to the end of the universe and back if need be. You can’t buy loyalty like that, so there must be a lot more to you than you let on. Karl was right. I was wrong.”
Logan was quiet for a moment. “Apology accepted, but it changes little. You still endangered my men by acting recklessly. And there’s still the factor of risk. This job ain’t worth it. My decision stands.”
“You want to know why I went off on my own the other day?” said Gwen, her own voice rising. “You want to talk about risk. What parts of our jobs don’t involve risk? We’re soldiers and mercenaries. We put our lives at risk all the damn time.”
“Not foolishly.” Retorted Logan.
“Is it truly foolish? Let me tell you a story about me, Logan, about why I took the chance I did the other day. About why I’m here and about why I think this operation is worth every risk. Eight years ago, the Clans came to my homeworld. They attacked it, they sacked its cities, burned them to the ground. They killed as many of us as they could. Forty-eight hours of rampage and pillaging and they nearly drove us to extinction.”
“Clans don’t normally do that. Even they aren’t that brutal.”
“They were to us. My mother, my father, my younger sister, all dead. I lost everything that day.”
“Not quite everything. You kept your life and some of your friends. I’ve heard this story before, from some of your fellow Star Swords.”
“Then you know the truth of it. Not a day goes by, Logan, where I don’t wish I could go back and somehow change things. To have my family again, my home, all the things I lost. Now tell me the punk kid who grew up on the streets of Rasalhague, abandoned and unloved by his father, doesn’t wish for the same thing.”
She paused to let her comments sink in. “We’re more alike than you know.”
Logan looked away, momentarily bracing himself as the dropship docked. “Touché.” He replied.
“Out there is a little boy who is very much in danger of sharing our fate. Separated from his family, flung far from his home. Unlike our stories, this time there’s something we can do about that. The question is, is the risk worth it to keep someone else from growing up like us? And only you can answer that, Logan.” Gwen began to walk away.
“Jumpship is requesting a destination system, sir.” Said the dropship skipper.
“Gwen,” barked Logan without turning. “Where is O’Malley going?”
“He’s hunting the ISF agent who murdered his wife. She retired on Baldur, the Combine’s pleasure planet.”
“Skipper, tell the jumper to calculate a course for the Baldur system.” He looked back at Gwen. “One less tragic story like ours is a cause worth the risk.”
“You are a better man than I gave you credit, Logan.”
“I’m full of surprises. You could give me the benefit of the doubt, perhaps over dinner tonight.” His grim and angry countenance melted back to the flippant rascal once more.
“Can’t be too noble, can you?”
“Well, I do have a reputation as a scoundrel to uphold.”
Dropship Pegasus
Aix-la-Chapelle system
Benjamin Military District, Draconis Combine
3 March 3056
“You know, Logan, I thought we were going home.” Commented Kai.
The Rangers had gathered in the cargo bay of the dropship. They were now a single jump from their destination and Logan had called a meeting to get a rundown on the nature of the planet Baldur. After another extended period in space, it was obvious the Rangers were a bit raucous and eager to get planetside.
“I changed my mind again, Kai.” Said Logan. ”Miss Laidir can be very persuasive.”
“She finally give you that blow job you wanted?” said Malcolm flippantly. The assembled Dark Rangers laughed, all save one.
“That’s quite enough.” Snarled Rohan angrily, his voice rising above the din.
“Someone’s jealous.” Teased Kai.
“Alright, Rohan’s right. Keep it down. We are in the presence of a lady.” Said Logan, trying to calm the crowd. “Especially one that has things we need to know about our destination.” The crowds chuckles and comments reduced to a murmur as Gwen stepped forward. “Ok, Miss ISF, you now have the floor. Tell us about this place.” Asked Logan.
“Most of you either have lived or have worked within the Draconis Combine before. To say that the lifestyle of your typical Combine citizen is austere is an understatement. However, some things are still true even within a society as spartan as this one. The rich and the powerful are still afforded certain luxuries. The planet we'll be jumping to shortly is one of them.
“Baldur began, ironically, as a religious colony. It was settled by a group of Norse neo-pagans who gave the planet its name. That colony ultimately failed for reasons still not entirely understood. A century or so later, the Combine moved in and found the planet perfect for recreation. That became its primary industry. The wealthy and the powerful would use this planet for holiday and many of them once their service to the Dragon was done would retire here and live out their days in hedonistic pleasure.”
“So what sort of recreation can we expect to find here?” asked Greyson.
“The Combine turns a blind eye to the excesses that take place here, so you have a planet where literally anything and everything is available. You have sports like skiing and snowboarding, mountain biking, etc. You have some of the best beaches in the Inner Sphere. Amusement parks.”
“Sounds pretty innocuous to me.” Said Veron.
“Let me finish. In addition to all that wonderful family fare, you also have some of the highest quality brothels and opium dens in the Combine. Casinos and gambling parlors. If you want the innocent, it’s there. If you want the decadent, it’s there too. More than enough to whet the appetites of this crowd.”
An eager roar came up from the Rangers. Gwen paused for their revelry to calm before continuing. “There are a couple of things to keep in mind. The Yakuza’s presence is strong there, and they do not tolerate miscreants messing with their businesses. Crime is low because the criminals ensure it stays low. Also, with so many wealthy and powerful nobles either visiting or making their homes there, the DCMS provides them with some of the best protection available. One of the elite Sword of Light regiments is always permanently based there.”
“In other words, they’re going to take a dim view to us tromping around in our Battlemechs messing with things.” Said Logan.
“Agreed. We’re back to all that private eye stuff you so love.” Teased Gwen. “Still, if we’re denied our Battlemechs, so too will O’Malley. The odds will be more even there than on Styx.”
Malcolm raised his hand. “Sir, when do we expect O’Malley to arrive?”
Logan shrugged and looked to Gwen. “Scuttlebutt across the newsnets in the systems we’ve visited since leaving Styx indicates that the DCMS has already responded to the rebellion there. Depending on how long the Highlander renegades hold out, he could be anywhere from two to three weeks behind us.” She paused. “That’s assuming he’s traveling with his troops. Coming alone, or with a small retinue, he may be considerably sooner.”
“But there’s at least a little time for some R&R when we arrive?” replied Malcolm.
“More than likely.” Said Logan. “However, some of you are going to have some jobs to do the moment we touch down. Doc, I want network access. I want to know the name of every single dropship, aerospace fighter, shuttle, and meteor that lands on this planet and the name of every single person aboard them. Craig, we’ve got three mechwarriors, yourself included, in need of new rides. I need you to do your magic as best you can.”
“I’ll see what I can dig up. With the Sword of Light on station here, there should be a few cast offs or mothballs a greedy quartermaster might be willing to ‘lose.’”
“As for the rest of you, we’ve been in space a lot these past few months. A few days furlough could do us some good.”
The loudspeaker came to life, “Prejump countdown in one hour.”
“Okay, secure for jump.” Said Logan with a dramatic clap. “We’ll be in the Baldur system in two hours. Company dismissed.”
The crowd parted and Rohan pushed through to Gwen. “I’m sorry they said those things about you.”
“You don’t need to defend my honor, Rohan.” Said Gwen. “They’ve been cooped up in here a long time and tongues are wagging about why Logan had his change of heart.”
“You’re not saying they were right?”
“If I thought it would get Logan back on track, you’re damn right I’d have gotten down on my knees. Turns out it required somewhat less. I’m no prude, Rohan. I lost my virginity at age 12, which is about average for my homeworld. Nothing they could say about me could even remotely ruffle my feathers. Let them have their fantasies, especially if it keeps them occupied on an otherwise dull space voyage.”
“It’s just that…”
Gwen gave Rohan an affectionate pat on the cheek. “Your chivalry is commendable, Rohan. One of the things I like about you. Come on. We’ve a jump to prep for.”
Odin City Starport, Baldur
Benjamin Military District, Draconis Combine
7 March 3056
“It is not an uncommon thing for mercenary troops to be hired by the various nobles and industrialists who visit our fair planet.” Said Shotastu Komei, the ISF liaison, as he met with Logan, Rohan, and Gwen in the cargo hold of the Pegasus. “Nor is it all that unusual for small outfits like yourself to come here uninvited in hopes to find such work. When you find work, I will know about it. However, until and after such time as you find decent employment, I do expect you and your troops to abide by our laws. Your Battlemechs and other military equipment will remain within this dropship. Any deviation from this regulation will be regarded as a hostile act against the Dragon and will be dealt with by deadly force.” He stopped, turned, and glared at Logan. “Is that perfectly clear?”
Logan nodded.
“You may carry your personal sidearms, but do keep them concealed. As you might expect, if you brandish them casually or use them to threaten the citizens or visitors of this planet without cause, there will be consequences. And I will know when such incidents take place. This planet exists for the leisure of the Dragon and his close associates. You are here at his pleasure. Do not abuse that privilege, mercenary.”
One of the ISF agent’s associates marched up to him and handed him a datapad. “Your crew have been duly logged with the ISF here on Baldur. I will know if and when any of them misbehave and their conduct will show badly on you. Our business is concluded. Welcome to Baldur.”
With that, Komei turned and left with his retinue. Logan sneered immaturely at the man as he stepped out of the dropship bay.
“And I will know when you scratch your ass.” He said in a mocking tone. “Is everyone on this planet a fucking snitch?”
“Not quite everyone, but don’t underestimate him because of his pompous attitude.” Said Gwen. “There’s enough money and power in the residents and visitors of this planet to ensure that security is maintained and maintained well.”
“O’Malley is ballsy to want to try to assassinate anyone living here.” Said Rohan.
“Indeed, but vengeance isn’t always rational, as other O’Malleys have proven.”
“Never mind O’Malley’s problems. We’re going to have a tough time moving about ourselves.” Said Logan.
“Any world this tight-assed is going to have an extensive underground.” Said Rohan. “Don’t worry. We’ll find our room to maneuver.”
“Until then, let’s take advantage of that furlough I promised.” Said Logan, going over to a wall communicator. “Attention all personnel, this Logan speaking. We have arrived on Baldur and have been cleared through ISF. You have 72 hours furlough. Play nice, but enjoy yourselves.”
Even from their location in the cavernous cargo hold of the dropship, the shout of joy from the troops could be heard clearly. “Well, that was some good news.”
Rohan nodded. “Gwen, would you care to join me for our initial reconnaissance of this planet?”
“Is that how you ask a girl on a date?”
Rohan shrugged sheepishly. “I thought it was clever.”
“Need to work on that.” Said Gwen with a laugh. “But the answer is yes.”
---
Komei marched away from the Pegasus with a smug look on his face. As he reached his car, a figure stepped out of the shadow of a nearby hanger.
“You’re a bold one, Lord Baron.”
“What did you do with them?”
“Nothing more than my usual spiel to ruffians who visit my planet.”
“You should have confined them, held them. What am I paying you for?”
“I am in a delicate position, good sir. The reputation of the Dark Rangers precedes them. Were I to restrain their movements without cause, odds are good they’d be shooting up the place within hours. And I hardly want the 2nd Sword’s commander breathing down my neck for failing to keep the peace. No, give them time. They’ll foul up soon enough. Do-gooders like them are bound to find something objectionable here, some injustice they can’t simply stand by and watch. When they do, then I’ll have my rationale to confine them. Just wait.”
“And Yamada?”
“Tracking down a single retired ISF agent here on Baldur takes time. I will let you know once I find something.”
“She was one of your colleagues, Komei.”
“A generation back. I have enough to keep me busy in the present. Sniffing around in the past is not my line.”
“I’m making it your line, you greedy bastard.” The man offered forth a wad of K-Bills.
“Tsk. You think so little of me. I may be corrupt, but I do keep my word. Yamada swings both ways. When she gets frisky, you may find her at the Golden Dragon. She has a few favorites there among the ladies.”
The man stepped back into the shadows and disappeared from view. Komei watched him go before stepping into his car. “And you may find more than you bargained for once you get there, Lord O’Malley.” Komei muttered to himself with a wicked smile.
The Dragonstar, Odin City, Baldur
Benjamin Military District, Draconis Combine
8 March 3056
“Remarkable place.” Said Rohan, looking out the window from their table at the city beyond. “It’s after midnight local time and this place is still alive with activity.”
Gwen followed his gaze out onto the brightly lit neon of the city. “Somehow, I suspect the brothels, casinos, and other entertainments of this city never close. Take this restaurant, for instance. Fine Asian cuisine at 1:00am local and there’s plenty of people here.”
“I can see why people come here. Why they want to live here. I grew up in the Combine. Like Logan, I grew up in the Rasalhague district, born, went to school on Trondheim. Unlike his family, I stayed loyal to the Dragon when independence came. All my life, I’d heard stories of Baldur, the paradise planet. For all those stories, only the very wealthy or connected ever set foot here.”
“And yet here you are.”
“Yeah, here with a very un-paradise like job to do. Stop an assassination.”
“Oh, I could care less about whether O’Malley succeeds at taking out Agent Yamada or not. I want Daniel.”
“Do we have any certainty that he would bring the boy with him? Seems an odd mission to bring your toddler grandson along on.”
“It does, but consider the alternative. Leave him on Styx with the DCMS bearing down on your troops? Not likely. As dangerous as his mission here is, it’s far safer than what O’Malley and his troops did back there.” Gwen picked up a bit of rice from her plate, ate it, and then pointed her chopsticks at Rohan. “One thing to keep in mind. O’Malley and Daniel are tied by blood. It’s the reason Daniel was kidnapped in the first place. Family bonds, blood ties, all these things we have to remember, because they mean that O’Malley is not going to put the boy in danger if he can avoid it.”
“Are you saying O’Malley loves Daniel?”
“I am. What grandfather wouldn’t love his grandson?” said Gwen. “There’s little evidence that Baron Ian is mentally unstable like his sons were. If we assume that’s true, then Baron Ian is a rational agent in terms of his dealings with Daniel. He will choose the safer course with his grandson.”
“You said yourself that attacking Yamada was irrational.”
“Maybe, maybe not. O’Malley may not be fully aware of the security arrangements here. Besides that, Yamada hurt him, worse than you and I can imagine. He lost his wife to Yamada’s scheming on Northwind all those years ago, an act that rippled through his sons and warped them into the monsters they became. O’Malley has more reason to hate her than anyone else in this universe. In a lot of ways, I understand where he’s coming from. This is a once in a lifetime opportunity to deal justice.”
“Justice? Or revenge?”
“Not much difference, is there? In O’Malley’s mind, you can bet he thinks of this as justice.”
Rohan shrugged. “Either way, it makes him vulnerable. His coming here has given us another chance to nab him.”
Gwen nodded. “Still a big planet though. A lot of places a man like him could hide. He’s well connected and very affluent. A Clan Elder of Northwind, even one on the lam, has considerable resources to bring to bear.”
“Let’s hope Doc can come up with something then. I feel for him. Us having a nice dinner here. Logan and some of the others also painting the town red. Doc in front of a computer terminal.”
“Not sure he’d have it any other way.” Said Gwen, raising her glass.
Series of Tubes Cybercafe, Odin City
Baldur
Benjamin Military District, Draconis Combine
8 March 3056
Doc set his steaming cup of green tea on the table and then carefully placed his laptop computer next to it. Looking about, he saw most of the clientele of the café was doing similar activities, typing away on laptops or on the handful of desktop computers lining the walls.
“Hiding in plain sight.” He mused to himself. “I must be crazy to try this here.”
Doc brought up his web browser, hopeful that the network protocols on Baldur were not too alien to his Davion-purchased and programmed computer. One of the drawbacks of the proliferation of humankind across the stars was that computers sometimes had a difficult time talking to one another again, much as it was in the early days of computing during the late 20th century. Each nation had its own interweb protocols, and sometimes those same protocols differed from planet to planet.
Seeing few errors, Doc let out his breath. He immediately typed in the address for the spaceport and began to see what he could penetrate. He was seeking anything that might tip them off to when O’Malley might be arriving: dropship arrivals, passenger manifests, whatever he could find. He didn’t anticipate that he would find anything of value yet, but Doc was hopefully that he could at least penetrate the system’s security with a minimum of fuss.
Years of hacking Battlemech computer systems had given Doc a good bit of skill with computer systems, something that had served him fairly well on previous missions with the Dark Rangers. “Sometimes, I think I wear too many hats.” He complained to himself. “Repair technician, computer hacker, inventor, medic, mechwarrior…”
“You won’t get in that way.” Said a girl’s voice behind him.
Doc jumped in his seat. He immediately reached to close his laptop, but also knew that his observer had already seen everything incriminating about his activities. He turned to see who it was who had discovered him.
It was a teenage girl sitting at the table behind him with a laptop of her own. Buxom, petite, with blue eyes and pink dyed hair. She gave him a playful wink.
“You shouldn’t be so nosy.”
“I’m sorry, but I couldn’t help it. This isn’t exactly the most private place to be doing something like that.”
“I had hoped that most folks would be too absorbed in their own doings to much care what I was up to.”
“Most would, but you kinda stand out.” Said the girl with a slight giggle. “When most of the off-worlders to Baldur are Asian nobles, industrialists, and other bigwigs, a man standing over 2 meters in height gets noticed.”
“Not everyone who lives in the Combine is Asian by ethnicity.” Instructed Doc. “And not all Asians are short in stature.”
“True on both counts, but most of the rich hotshots who come to this planet are. And since you feel the need to instruct me about the very nation in which I’ve lived my entire life, I’m guessing you’re not native to the Combine yourself. Let me guess: Davion.”
“Capellan actually. Although on one of the planets Prince Hanse conquered in the Fourth War.”
The girl laughed. “I knew I had you pegged as an off-worlder, but I guess I don’t know everything. You’re a merc, probably working for one of those same bigwigs I see everyday. So what makes you or your boss so interested in the spaceport network?”
“That is none of your business.”
“Suit yourself, but you’ll never get through the security using the techniques I just watched. System there is pretty secure.”
“And how would you know?”
The girl shrugged. “That is none of your business.”
Doc caught onto the game. “I’m looking for somebody. Someone who’s due to arrive on this world in the next few weeks and months.”
The girl smiled. “I’ve hacked it myself. It’s not easy.”
“Could you do it again?”
“Sure, but not here. And what’s it worth to you, merc?”
“What’s your price?”
“Favors to be named later.” Said the girl.
“I’m not sure I like being kept in the dark, kid.”
“You want my help or not? Look, off-worlder, I don’t need money. I’m not some starving street waif. The stuff you might offer me for my assistance is nothing I need. But favors, help with the bigwigs who run this planet, that’s worth its weight in gold.”
“Alright, consider it a deal.”
“Come with me. By the way, my friends call me Pix.”
“Mine call me Doc.”
The Golden Dragon, Odin City
Baldur
Benjamin Military District, Draconis Combine
8 March 3056
“I think we’ve stumbled onto something here.” Said Logan, simmering in a hot tub while a young woman in a bikini massaged his shoulders.
“You do know how to pick them.” Said Cowboy, enjoying a similar massage while smoking on a cigar.
Logan put up his hands in feigned humility. “What can I say? I have a gift.”
“This place looks pretty high class.” Said Cowboy, looking about. The room they were in was well decorated in an East Asian style. Red and gold wallpaper, faux Ming vases, pictures with Chinese calligraphy, and the like.
“I’d say.” Said Logan, pointing towards the open door. One could look out from their spa room into the main common area. “Look at the clientele here.”
Cowboy followed Logan’s finger. Out in the common area, he could see several distinguished looking men in military uniforms. Cowboy knew enough about Combine rank insignia to note they were high ranking officers: Battalion commanders.
“Bigwigs from the Second Sword of Light.” He mused aloud.
“Indeed. Interesting place, this pleasure planet.”
“Gwen did warn us about its decadence.”
“Decadence is why I’m here. I wouldn’t expect any less from a high money brothel like this one. In a few minutes, I’m going to take this lovely young thing upstairs and have my way with her on silk sheets.” Logan laughed.
“Fighting and fucking, right?”
“Best life we mercs can hope for.” Logan laid back and closed his eyes, taking in the pleasure of his massage.
Cowboy finished his cigar and stood up. “On that note, I think I’m going to go enjoy my time with this young lady.”
“Enjoy.” Said Logan without opening his eyes.
Cowboy took the proffered towel from his escort and began to dry himself off. As he did so, he noted the arrival of another client to the brothel, an older but attractive Asian woman in her mid-50s. “They take all comers here, don’t they?” he asked of his escort. She gave no answer, but merely smiled and nodded.
Logan’s eyes popped open and he looked himself. “Money buys all things, doesn’t it? Even a romp in the sheets for an aged lesbian like that.” He paused. “She looks familiar.”
“I’m thinking the same thing.” Said Cowboy. They watched as the woman picked our her escort, a fetching young redhead.
“She has good taste.” Said Logan. “Might have to select that one next time.”
“Yamada.” Said Cowboy, recognition coming to him at last. “That’s Keiko Yamada, the ISF agent O’Malley’s looking for.”
Logan sat up. “You sure?”
“Yeah, that’s her alright.” He looked to his escort, expecting her to somehow confirm his suspicions. But the young woman gave no sign and merely offered him a silken robe.
“Fetch me my regular clothes.” Cowboy ordered.
“You’re done?” asked Logan incredulously. “Come on. Reporting this can wait. Enjoy yourself. Yamada’s not going anywhere.”
Cowboy’s girl stood silent, waiting for further confirmation one way or the other as to what to do next. “Very well. But do fetch me my personal communicator.”
“As you wish, kind sir.” She said, disappearing out the door.
“You’re as bad as Gwen. Always on duty.”
“Somehow, I think you’ve got her as wrong as she had you. You’ve seen the way Rohan looks at her. I get the feeling tonight’s going to end very interestingly for the two of them.”
Access Train to Odin City Starport
Baldur
Benjamin Military District, Draconis Combine
9 March 3056
Rohan and Gwen stepped onto the platform after walking back from their meal largely in silence. After a quick glance to see if the train was coming, Gwen turned to him.
“You know, you didn’t seem to have much trouble chatting at the restaurant.”
Rohan shrugged. “Just taking in the beautiful night.” He paused. “Made all the better by pleasant company.”
Gwen smiled. “Are you embarrassed to ask or do you just think it improper on the first date?”
“Excuse me?”
“You’ve spent the last ten minutes since we left the Dragonstar milling over in your mind if and how you were going to ask me to spend the night with you.”
Rohan blushed. “I didn’t think I was that obvious.” He let out his breath.
“You’re not accustomed to all this, are you?”
“I’m a fighting man. Have been so all my life. I had a few girlfriends, Director Noriko first and foremost among them.”
The train barreled into the station, its noise silencing their conversation briefly. Gwen moved to board and Rohan followed. Their conversation continued once they sat down.
“Anyway, as I was saying,” continued Rohan. “I’m just not that good at this dating stuff.”
“I have a confession to make then.” Said Gwen. “Neither am I. You see, I come from a world where courtship is a lot less formalized. All the stuff that you people put yourselves through to win another’s attention.”
“Is it really so odd? Your pursuit of a certain general officer in the Star Swords is not exactly a secret.”
“Case in point.” Said Gwen. “I wasn’t very subtle about that, now was I? Why then do you feel the need to be subtle with me? Remember what I told you a few days ago about my upbringing. I’m no prude. If you want me, say so.”
“I want you.” Said Rohan.
Gwen leaned over and planted a kiss on Rohan’s lips. “What were you afraid of?”
“You said ‘no’ to Logan.”
“You’re not Logan.” She kissed him again and again, passionately. Rohan pulled her into his arms.
And then, Gwen’s personal communicator went off.
She pulled back from Rohan. “This,” she said with frustration. “had better be good.” She pulled the communicator from her belt and answered it. “Laidir here.”
“Gwen! It’s Cowboy. A bit of luck.”
“I should hope. I was about to get lucky.” There was a pause on the other end for a second. Gwen smiled. She was enjoying making the conversation as awkward as possible.
“Um, well, sorry to disturb you, but I…ah…or rather Logan and I, we saw something, someone. Yamada, we saw her here at the Golden Dragon brothel.”
Gwen dropped the game and got serious. “Excellent. O’Malley’s quarry drops in our lap. No real surprise that she’d be there. Most of us who trained under her knew she was interested in the ladies as much as the men. If it’s known that she frequents there, we may be able to lure O’Malley into a trap. See what you can find out. Laidir out.” She closed the communicator before Cowboy could respond further.
“Where were we?” asked Rohan slyly.
Sunday, March 3, 2019
Chapter Six – Escape
Styx City
Styx
Dieron Military District, Draconis Combine
30 December 3055
“Gwen, where the hell are you?” snarled Rohan with an anxious tone. He lanced a large laser bolt across a Scorpion tank, blowing the light machine apart.
“This is getting a bit too hot for my tastes.” Said Doc.
“Agreed.” Said Logan as his last inferno round clicked into place. “I’ve set half the city on fire.”
Doc chuckled in response.
“In all seriousness though…” said Cowboy. “Ammo is low and these guys are throwing everything including the kitchen sink at us.”
“Grayson, report!” barked Logan.
“Moving to secure the ship now. We’ve got bogeys inbound. Looks like a Highlander fire lance.”
“Hold them as long as you can. Kai, move to support. Get those two newbies some action.”
“Roger.”
“And us?” asked Doc.
“We hold the line as long as we can until Gwen arrives.”
---
“Here they come!” said Abel.
“Hold the line until Kai gets here.” Said Grayson, moving his Shadow Hawk into a full run. Off to his right, he saw Craig Chakford’s Assassin launch into the air on its jumpjets.
The Highlander fire lance opened up, concentrating fire on Abel’s Crusader, the heaviest mech in their lance. Abel weathered the storm and cut loose with his own missile volleys on the lead Highlander Archer.
“Outnumbered and outgunned.” Complained Craig as he launched an LRM volley at a Highlander Apollo. The mech ducked behind a hanger and Craig’s missiles slammed harmlessly into the ferrocrete wall.
“They outgun us at range. Close to knife-fighting range.” Ordered Grayson.
Both Abel and Craig charged towards the Archer, while Grayson moved to flank the enemy force. The Highlander mechs kept up their heavy fire on Abel’s machine, blowing his mech’s right arm off.
“We can’t stand up to this!” exclaimed Abel, his normally calm demeanor cracking under the strain.
“We have to!” snarled Grayson. His autocannon traced a series of pockmarks up the armor of the Archer’s legs. The mech shifted its weight to avoid the damage and lost its footing. It crashed down onto the pavement.
The Highlander Catapult launched a pair of long range missile volleys into Craig’s Assassin. Unable to withstand the pounding of such heavy weapons, his 40 ton machine went down and he ejected.
Grayson slammed his fist against the glass of his cockpit in frustration. “Logan! We can’t hold. Craig’s down. Abel’s badly damaged. Goddamn it, Kai where are you?”
Grayson moved his machine around a series of hangers to come about on the flank of the enemy lance. Abel meanwhile lost his nerve and bolted.
“Damnit, kid!” snarled Grayson. “Get your ass back here!” He came around and saw the enemy lance clustered in tight formation. He slammed his mech’s throttle forward and charged straight at the Highlander Griffin.
Grayson’s mech slammed hard into the enemy machine, knocking it off its feet.
The Highlander lance now turned its attention on Grayson. Grayson smiled as Abel came about, having regained a measure of his courage. Grayson flamed his jump jets and launched himself behind the Highlander Catapult.
He let loose with nearly every weapon he had. His laser scorched a jagged line dangerously close to the mech’s cockpit, but the armor held. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the Archer cut loose with its LRMs at Abel’s Crusader. The missile volley tore into the weakened armor of the Crusader and struck his ammunition stores. The mech went up in a huge explosion.
“Abel down!” reported Grayson. He focused on the Catapult, blind with rage. He slammed his mech’s left fist into the Catapult, but it glanced off with minor damage to heavy mech’s armor.
The enemy mechs pulled away from Grayson and he came to consider his position untenable. He slammed his throttle forward and headed for the dropship as fast as he could. The Highlanders opened fire, savaging his rear armor and damaging his engine shielding.
He kept pace when suddenly he felt his mech’s leg give way. His mech crashed into the pavement, slamming him against his harness and knocking him out cold.
The Highlander mechs moved in for the kill on the dropship when new contacts appeared on their radar. “More Rangers.” Snarled Lt. Ramius. “Move to intercept.”
---
“Logan, it’s Gwen. I’m making my way to the dropship now with all haste.”
“Godamnit, where the hell were you?” retorted Logan in anger.
“Finding out something very interesting. Recommend you withdraw to the dropper also. Sounds like Grayson’s having a time of it.”
“You think I don’t know that.” He replied, bringing the Nightmare up to a run. “All Rangers, make for the dropship.”
---
Kai’s lance advanced on the Highlanders. Kai, in his lightning fast Venom mech, moved to top speed and rushed towards the wreckage of Grayson’s Shadow Hawk. His two lancemates, new recruits hired just before Northwind, advanced more slowly.
Veron Malik’s Daikyu, a Kurita mech given to the Rangers for faithful service on Dieron and Wolcott, opened up a volley on the Highlander Griffin. His compatriot, Malcolm Crowe, targeted the Archer.
The Highlanders were bloodied but not bowed, nor were they intimidated by the arrival of two new heavy mechs. They opened up into the Daikyu first, pounding on its heavy armor and causing Veron to lose his footing on the ferrocrete of the tarmac.
Veron came back to his feet quickly enough. They may have been new recruits to the Rangers, but both men were war veterans and were quite skilled. Veron brought his Daikyu to a full run and launched himself towards the Highlander Griffin.
Malcolm kept at it with the Archer, pounding the mech with the heavy weapons from his Gallowglas. Kai, meanwhile, jumped into the midst of the enemy Apollo and Catapult and began trading blows with the two long range mechs. Although significantly outweighed by his opponents, their long range weapons could not accurately strike him at such close quarters.
The autocannons on Veron’s Daikyu roared to life, shredding into the battered Griffin and tearing its right arm from its body. Malcolm kept up the pressure on the Archer, coring its chest armor and damaging its engine.
Kai kept at it against the Catapult and Apollo, but found his Venom’s heat management a handicap. He could not effectively jump about and fire his weapons at the same time. Still, he kept the two mechs tied up trying to maneuver to catch him.
“Ignore the Venom!” barked Ramius over an open channel. “Regroup.” The Highlander mechs, disciplined as they were, quickly moved out into the open to regain their formation.
Veron and Malcolm began to circle the Highlanders as they maneuvered into position, keeping fire up on their position. Veron’s Daikyu ripped more damage into the crippled Archer. The Highlanders, in turn, focused their efforts on Malcolm’s Gallowglas.
“Now to give them something new to shoot at.” Said a voice. Gwen!
Her Linebacker dashed onto the tarmac at high speeds from the south.
Taking advantage of the distraction, Kai moved to inspect Grayson’s mech. Malcolm’s Gallowglas cored through the Griffin’s head with a lucky snap shot, finally dropping the first of the Highlander machines.
Veron picked up where Malcolm had left off on the Archer, hammering it with his autocannons. The mech staggered and collapsed, exploding on impact. “Glad to see you, Laidir-san.” He said.
“Likewise. Now let’s turn the tide here. Kai, how is he?”
“Alive. Status on Craig and Abel is unknown.”
Gwen opened up on the Catapult, shredding its left LRM launcher. Its pilot cried out on an open channel in dismay. “Lieutenant, we can’t hold.”
“Nice to hear that from the other side.” Commented Kai.
“Save any for us?” asked Logan as the Nightmare appeared in the south.
“Oh, that did it.” Said Veron, watching as their battered opponents began to back off at Logan’s arrival. “Enemy in retreat.”
“Not likely.” Said Rohan, his Crab’s lasers lancing into the surviving Apollo. The mech staggered under the barrage and fell.
Veron’s Daikyu moved up to point blank range and landed a savage kick on the prone Apollo, ripping its leg off. An autocannon burst ripped off the other, finishing the mech.
The Catapult lasted only a few seconds longer as Logan opened up with the Nightmare’s Clan technology arsenal. “Retrieve those pilots.” He ordered, “and get that ship into space.”
“Roger.”
---
Gwen leaped down from the cockpit of her mech less than half a second after the restraining blocks locked it into place. She ran for the bridge, dashing up several ladders as fast as she could move. Rohan kept close pace behind her.
“Skipper, get this ship in the air.”
“I’ve got no clearance from ground control.”
“And you won’t get it.” Added Rohan, panting. “Planetary authorities are in the hands of our enemies.”
“Aye, sir.” The skipper turned to the technicians manning the bridge stations. “You heard him. Flash prep for launch.”
Rohan looked out the bridge windows onto the tarmac where the wreckage of seven Battlemechs still lay burning. He looked at Gwen with anxious eyes.
“This is bullshit!” snarled Logan as he entered the bridge. He marched over to Gwen. “Every damn time I take a job from your boyfriend, it turns out like this.” He yelled into her face. Gwen didn’t flinch.
“We don’t have time for this.” She replied sternly but calmly.
“I’ve had enough.” Said Logan, pacing about. “You can tell General Messer to shove his little brat up his own ass. I’ve got three dispossessed mechwarriors below thanks to him. You know how much it’s going to cost me to outfit them again!”
Gwen rolled her eyes in annoyance, but gave no other reaction. Logan stopped his angry pacing and turned to get into Gwen’s face again. With a lightning fast round house kick, she swept his legs out from under him. Logan hit the deck with a thud, scrambling for his Mydrons.
The barrel of Gwen’s blaster gave Logan’s nose a nudge. “I’d think better of that, if I were you.”
“No one does that to me on my ship.” Threatened Logan.
“You see, there’s your problem, Logan. It’s always about you.” Said Gwen, giving him a less than gentle shove with the barrel of her pistol. “Your ship. Your money. Your shitty attitude. Do you honestly believe it’s all about you? Do you sincerely think the Dark Rangers would be anything more than some little chicken shit outfit hunting pirates and renegades on some backwater little dust ball if it hadn’t been for Rohan and Cowboy and Doc, and, oh yes, Joshua Messer? And if I pulled the trigger right now, what do you think would happen?”
Logan stayed silent.
“Yeah, think about that for a bit. You’re good, Logan, but not that good. It’s past time to check your ego. You’re a punk kid who thinks he’s God’s gift to the Inner Sphere because of your natural talent. That!” Gwen pointed out to the flaming wreckage on the tarmac, “That is what the Inner Sphere does to punk kids with natural talent. Always someone taking a shot at you. One of these days, you’re going to realize that the only reason you’re still alive is because someone else has been taking the bullets for you.” She stepped back and Logan came to his feet. “Your three mechwarriors are dispossessed because they followed your orders. Never forget that.”
Logan walked off the bridge without a word.
“Never seen anyone manhandle him like that.” Commented Rohan.
“He had it coming.” growled Gwen.
“Perhaps.” Said Rohan. “But you were overly hard on him.” Rohan scanned the tarmac again, this time spotting several Highlander mechs and rebel vehicles moving near the burning wreckage. “Skipper, launch status.”
“Go for burn in 10…9…8…”
“Get us out of here.”
“Better strap in.” said the Skipper. He grabbed the microphone for the loudspeaker. “Launch in 4…3…2...1…go!”
The huge fusion thrusters on the dropship roared to life, driving the gigantic vessel upward at immense speed. Gwen and Rohan both dove into deck chairs and held on as the G-forces increased. Outside the window, they could see the tarmac vanish as they accelerated skyward.
“Launch successful.” Reported the Skipper.
“Any sign of pursuit?” asked Gwen.
“I’ve got a squadron of aerospace fighters waiting for us in orbit.” Replied the sensor technician.
“They think of everything, don’t they?” said Rohan sarcastically. “Well, so do we. Ready the weapons. Let’s show them what a Pegasus can really do.”
“Now witness the firepower of this fully armed and operational battle station!” said Gwen in an odd voice.
“Excuse me?” said Rohan.
“Nothing. Just something I heard in an ancient film once.” Said Gwen with a goofy grin. Rohan simply shook his head.
“You are an odd one at times, Gwen Laidir.”
Outbound
Styx
Dieron Military District, Draconis Combine
1 January 3056
“Kampai!” said Gwen, knocking her bottle of sake against Kai’s proffered bottle.
“Don’t think I’ve ever done a New Years toast in space before.” Replied Kai before taking a swig.
The battle with the fighters had been brief and largely uneventful. Indeed, the firepower of the dropship made short work of four of the light interceptors within the first minute of battle, driving the remaining two into a hasty retreat. Now, thirty six hours out from the planet, the crew and the mercenaries were enjoying a brief respite.
Despite the normally festive nature of New Years celebrations, the mood aboard was somber. Rohan and Gwen together tried to brighten things, but it was not working as well as they’d hoped.
“You’d think this was a wake, not a New Years party.” Said Kai grimly as he glanced over to the corner where Abel, Grayson, and Craig were sitting quietly. Logan had joined them.
“It’s the dining on ashes party.” Grumbled Rohan.
“At least Logan is commiserating with them instead of pretending to be above it all.” Said Gwen.
“That’s enough of that, Gwen.” Said Rohan sternly. “You’ve made your point.”
“You’re too soft on him.” Retorted Gwen.
“No, we’re not. Has it never occurred to you why people like myself and Cowboy and Grayson and others are willing to follow some hotshot kid like Logan to the depths of hell and back? Why we’re the ones willing to take those bullets for him?”
Gwen looked at Rohan, but gave no answer.
“You’re wrong about him. You’ve been with us four or five months, and so far only seen the bluster and bravado. There’s more to him than that. Eventually you’ll see that.”
“Yeah, what do you want me to be?” said Logan, staggering over. “Soft and cuddly? A warrior poet like your precious Joshua? I grew up on the streets. I was the forgotten son of a Rasalhague nobleman who ran away from home and was never missed.” He looked at Rohan. “You call it bluster and bravado. You can’t survive without it where I come from. If you’re not bad ass, you’re nothing, and when you’re nothing you’re dead.”
“You’re drunk, Logan.” Said Gwen condescendingly.
“Yeah, what of it? Let me tell you something. One thing I did learn on the streets. You take care of your own. Leave no one behind.” He slumped to the deck as the alcohol and the weight of his thoughts drove him downward. “When I ran with the gang on New Oslo, we got it in our head to knock off this bank. We were going to be rich. Turns out one of our own was a police plant, one of those agent provokers…”
“Agent provocateur.” Corrected Gwen mildly, her countenance softening as she began to be drawn into the story.
“Whatever. She tricked our leader into the job. They were waiting for us. Cops gunned down my mates, killed them all. Two of us escaped, the plant and myself. I killed her when I found out what she’d done. She murdered my mates and I lived. I should’ve died with the rest of them.”
Logan paused, and then with a violent outburst flung the bottle in his hand against a nearby bulkhead. It shattered into a thousand pieces. “Never again. I lived because I left them behind. Never again. Never leave them behind and I’ll never lead them into a trap again.” He glared at Gwen with an angry malice in his eyes. “You want to talk about who doesn’t care about the lives of my men. Why don’t we start with you and your precious general? You proved that on Styx. Going off on your own, leaving us to be butchered by the Highlanders. And him? I’ve lost more good people being errand boy to General Messer than on any other job. I’m through having my people die at his whimsy. Once we reach the jumper, this operation is over.”
Colmar
Jade Falcon Occupation Zone
1 January 3056
Star Captain Blair snapped to attention as the door to the dropship slid open. The new commander of the 18th Provisional Garrison Cluster was arriving. Blair smiled. A new year, a new commander, and new opportunities for this band of misfits to prove themselves.
The Star Colonel emerged into the bright sunlight and winced for a second. Blair's smile widened even more. Few if any new arrivals to Colmar did not take some adjustment to the brightness of the planet's white sun.
He marched forward to Blair. She saluted and he returned the salute. “I am Star Colonel David and I have come to take command of this garrison.”
“And I, brevet Star Colonel Blair, surrender the command to you.”
“We are given new orders, Star Captain.” said David, marching away from the assembled honor guard and motioning Blair to follow. “I am to prepare this unit for an assault on Clan Wolf assets. I do this under the Khan's orders and out of a personal desire to avenge myself on Clan Wolf.”
“Forgive me, but what wrong have they done you, sir?”
“In August of 54, my former unit was robbed of glory on New Belfast once more by the interference of Clan Wolf. It cost me my commanding officer and has left me to languish in disgrace for the past 18 months.”
Blair made no mention of the fact that David had lost his Trial to claim his former commander's Bloodname, no doubt part of the disgrace to which he referred. Nor did she dare mention that Clan Wolf's interference had little to do with the 2nd Jaegers' defeat on New Belfast. “Another misfit, this one a deluded fanatic. And now the Khan sends us to our doom in a futile raid on Clan Wolf. So be it.”
“What preparations shall we make for this operation?” asked Blair.
“The first thing you can do is see to my mechs.” David waved with his hand and the bay doors on the dropship opened simultaneously. Two machines descended to the tarmac. One a Rifleman IIC, the other a mech Blair did not recognize.
“Two?” inquired Blair curiously.
“The prototype you see has been entrusted to me for further trials. Once we have accumulated what data the scientist caste requires regarding it, I will resume my place in the cockpit of my Rifleman.”
“Very well, sir. And after your machines are secured?”
“I will call a briefing so that we may go over the training regimen for the near future.” He paused, looking at her and seeming to read her doubts. “Whatever you think of me or my history, I will not throw this unit into desperate battle unprepared. When we launch to challenge Clan Wolf, we will be ready and we will win. Of that, you can be certain, Star Captain.”
Styx
Dieron Military District, Draconis Combine
30 December 3055
“Gwen, where the hell are you?” snarled Rohan with an anxious tone. He lanced a large laser bolt across a Scorpion tank, blowing the light machine apart.
“This is getting a bit too hot for my tastes.” Said Doc.
“Agreed.” Said Logan as his last inferno round clicked into place. “I’ve set half the city on fire.”
Doc chuckled in response.
“In all seriousness though…” said Cowboy. “Ammo is low and these guys are throwing everything including the kitchen sink at us.”
“Grayson, report!” barked Logan.
“Moving to secure the ship now. We’ve got bogeys inbound. Looks like a Highlander fire lance.”
“Hold them as long as you can. Kai, move to support. Get those two newbies some action.”
“Roger.”
“And us?” asked Doc.
“We hold the line as long as we can until Gwen arrives.”
---
“Here they come!” said Abel.
“Hold the line until Kai gets here.” Said Grayson, moving his Shadow Hawk into a full run. Off to his right, he saw Craig Chakford’s Assassin launch into the air on its jumpjets.
The Highlander fire lance opened up, concentrating fire on Abel’s Crusader, the heaviest mech in their lance. Abel weathered the storm and cut loose with his own missile volleys on the lead Highlander Archer.
“Outnumbered and outgunned.” Complained Craig as he launched an LRM volley at a Highlander Apollo. The mech ducked behind a hanger and Craig’s missiles slammed harmlessly into the ferrocrete wall.
“They outgun us at range. Close to knife-fighting range.” Ordered Grayson.
Both Abel and Craig charged towards the Archer, while Grayson moved to flank the enemy force. The Highlander mechs kept up their heavy fire on Abel’s machine, blowing his mech’s right arm off.
“We can’t stand up to this!” exclaimed Abel, his normally calm demeanor cracking under the strain.
“We have to!” snarled Grayson. His autocannon traced a series of pockmarks up the armor of the Archer’s legs. The mech shifted its weight to avoid the damage and lost its footing. It crashed down onto the pavement.
The Highlander Catapult launched a pair of long range missile volleys into Craig’s Assassin. Unable to withstand the pounding of such heavy weapons, his 40 ton machine went down and he ejected.
Grayson slammed his fist against the glass of his cockpit in frustration. “Logan! We can’t hold. Craig’s down. Abel’s badly damaged. Goddamn it, Kai where are you?”
Grayson moved his machine around a series of hangers to come about on the flank of the enemy lance. Abel meanwhile lost his nerve and bolted.
“Damnit, kid!” snarled Grayson. “Get your ass back here!” He came around and saw the enemy lance clustered in tight formation. He slammed his mech’s throttle forward and charged straight at the Highlander Griffin.
Grayson’s mech slammed hard into the enemy machine, knocking it off its feet.
The Highlander lance now turned its attention on Grayson. Grayson smiled as Abel came about, having regained a measure of his courage. Grayson flamed his jump jets and launched himself behind the Highlander Catapult.
He let loose with nearly every weapon he had. His laser scorched a jagged line dangerously close to the mech’s cockpit, but the armor held. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the Archer cut loose with its LRMs at Abel’s Crusader. The missile volley tore into the weakened armor of the Crusader and struck his ammunition stores. The mech went up in a huge explosion.
“Abel down!” reported Grayson. He focused on the Catapult, blind with rage. He slammed his mech’s left fist into the Catapult, but it glanced off with minor damage to heavy mech’s armor.
The enemy mechs pulled away from Grayson and he came to consider his position untenable. He slammed his throttle forward and headed for the dropship as fast as he could. The Highlanders opened fire, savaging his rear armor and damaging his engine shielding.
He kept pace when suddenly he felt his mech’s leg give way. His mech crashed into the pavement, slamming him against his harness and knocking him out cold.
The Highlander mechs moved in for the kill on the dropship when new contacts appeared on their radar. “More Rangers.” Snarled Lt. Ramius. “Move to intercept.”
---
“Logan, it’s Gwen. I’m making my way to the dropship now with all haste.”
“Godamnit, where the hell were you?” retorted Logan in anger.
“Finding out something very interesting. Recommend you withdraw to the dropper also. Sounds like Grayson’s having a time of it.”
“You think I don’t know that.” He replied, bringing the Nightmare up to a run. “All Rangers, make for the dropship.”
---
Kai’s lance advanced on the Highlanders. Kai, in his lightning fast Venom mech, moved to top speed and rushed towards the wreckage of Grayson’s Shadow Hawk. His two lancemates, new recruits hired just before Northwind, advanced more slowly.
Veron Malik’s Daikyu, a Kurita mech given to the Rangers for faithful service on Dieron and Wolcott, opened up a volley on the Highlander Griffin. His compatriot, Malcolm Crowe, targeted the Archer.
The Highlanders were bloodied but not bowed, nor were they intimidated by the arrival of two new heavy mechs. They opened up into the Daikyu first, pounding on its heavy armor and causing Veron to lose his footing on the ferrocrete of the tarmac.
Veron came back to his feet quickly enough. They may have been new recruits to the Rangers, but both men were war veterans and were quite skilled. Veron brought his Daikyu to a full run and launched himself towards the Highlander Griffin.
Malcolm kept at it with the Archer, pounding the mech with the heavy weapons from his Gallowglas. Kai, meanwhile, jumped into the midst of the enemy Apollo and Catapult and began trading blows with the two long range mechs. Although significantly outweighed by his opponents, their long range weapons could not accurately strike him at such close quarters.
The autocannons on Veron’s Daikyu roared to life, shredding into the battered Griffin and tearing its right arm from its body. Malcolm kept up the pressure on the Archer, coring its chest armor and damaging its engine.
Kai kept at it against the Catapult and Apollo, but found his Venom’s heat management a handicap. He could not effectively jump about and fire his weapons at the same time. Still, he kept the two mechs tied up trying to maneuver to catch him.
“Ignore the Venom!” barked Ramius over an open channel. “Regroup.” The Highlander mechs, disciplined as they were, quickly moved out into the open to regain their formation.
Veron and Malcolm began to circle the Highlanders as they maneuvered into position, keeping fire up on their position. Veron’s Daikyu ripped more damage into the crippled Archer. The Highlanders, in turn, focused their efforts on Malcolm’s Gallowglas.
“Now to give them something new to shoot at.” Said a voice. Gwen!
Her Linebacker dashed onto the tarmac at high speeds from the south.
Taking advantage of the distraction, Kai moved to inspect Grayson’s mech. Malcolm’s Gallowglas cored through the Griffin’s head with a lucky snap shot, finally dropping the first of the Highlander machines.
Veron picked up where Malcolm had left off on the Archer, hammering it with his autocannons. The mech staggered and collapsed, exploding on impact. “Glad to see you, Laidir-san.” He said.
“Likewise. Now let’s turn the tide here. Kai, how is he?”
“Alive. Status on Craig and Abel is unknown.”
Gwen opened up on the Catapult, shredding its left LRM launcher. Its pilot cried out on an open channel in dismay. “Lieutenant, we can’t hold.”
“Nice to hear that from the other side.” Commented Kai.
“Save any for us?” asked Logan as the Nightmare appeared in the south.
“Oh, that did it.” Said Veron, watching as their battered opponents began to back off at Logan’s arrival. “Enemy in retreat.”
“Not likely.” Said Rohan, his Crab’s lasers lancing into the surviving Apollo. The mech staggered under the barrage and fell.
Veron’s Daikyu moved up to point blank range and landed a savage kick on the prone Apollo, ripping its leg off. An autocannon burst ripped off the other, finishing the mech.
The Catapult lasted only a few seconds longer as Logan opened up with the Nightmare’s Clan technology arsenal. “Retrieve those pilots.” He ordered, “and get that ship into space.”
“Roger.”
---
Gwen leaped down from the cockpit of her mech less than half a second after the restraining blocks locked it into place. She ran for the bridge, dashing up several ladders as fast as she could move. Rohan kept close pace behind her.
“Skipper, get this ship in the air.”
“I’ve got no clearance from ground control.”
“And you won’t get it.” Added Rohan, panting. “Planetary authorities are in the hands of our enemies.”
“Aye, sir.” The skipper turned to the technicians manning the bridge stations. “You heard him. Flash prep for launch.”
Rohan looked out the bridge windows onto the tarmac where the wreckage of seven Battlemechs still lay burning. He looked at Gwen with anxious eyes.
“This is bullshit!” snarled Logan as he entered the bridge. He marched over to Gwen. “Every damn time I take a job from your boyfriend, it turns out like this.” He yelled into her face. Gwen didn’t flinch.
“We don’t have time for this.” She replied sternly but calmly.
“I’ve had enough.” Said Logan, pacing about. “You can tell General Messer to shove his little brat up his own ass. I’ve got three dispossessed mechwarriors below thanks to him. You know how much it’s going to cost me to outfit them again!”
Gwen rolled her eyes in annoyance, but gave no other reaction. Logan stopped his angry pacing and turned to get into Gwen’s face again. With a lightning fast round house kick, she swept his legs out from under him. Logan hit the deck with a thud, scrambling for his Mydrons.
The barrel of Gwen’s blaster gave Logan’s nose a nudge. “I’d think better of that, if I were you.”
“No one does that to me on my ship.” Threatened Logan.
“You see, there’s your problem, Logan. It’s always about you.” Said Gwen, giving him a less than gentle shove with the barrel of her pistol. “Your ship. Your money. Your shitty attitude. Do you honestly believe it’s all about you? Do you sincerely think the Dark Rangers would be anything more than some little chicken shit outfit hunting pirates and renegades on some backwater little dust ball if it hadn’t been for Rohan and Cowboy and Doc, and, oh yes, Joshua Messer? And if I pulled the trigger right now, what do you think would happen?”
Logan stayed silent.
“Yeah, think about that for a bit. You’re good, Logan, but not that good. It’s past time to check your ego. You’re a punk kid who thinks he’s God’s gift to the Inner Sphere because of your natural talent. That!” Gwen pointed out to the flaming wreckage on the tarmac, “That is what the Inner Sphere does to punk kids with natural talent. Always someone taking a shot at you. One of these days, you’re going to realize that the only reason you’re still alive is because someone else has been taking the bullets for you.” She stepped back and Logan came to his feet. “Your three mechwarriors are dispossessed because they followed your orders. Never forget that.”
Logan walked off the bridge without a word.
“Never seen anyone manhandle him like that.” Commented Rohan.
“He had it coming.” growled Gwen.
“Perhaps.” Said Rohan. “But you were overly hard on him.” Rohan scanned the tarmac again, this time spotting several Highlander mechs and rebel vehicles moving near the burning wreckage. “Skipper, launch status.”
“Go for burn in 10…9…8…”
“Get us out of here.”
“Better strap in.” said the Skipper. He grabbed the microphone for the loudspeaker. “Launch in 4…3…2...1…go!”
The huge fusion thrusters on the dropship roared to life, driving the gigantic vessel upward at immense speed. Gwen and Rohan both dove into deck chairs and held on as the G-forces increased. Outside the window, they could see the tarmac vanish as they accelerated skyward.
“Launch successful.” Reported the Skipper.
“Any sign of pursuit?” asked Gwen.
“I’ve got a squadron of aerospace fighters waiting for us in orbit.” Replied the sensor technician.
“They think of everything, don’t they?” said Rohan sarcastically. “Well, so do we. Ready the weapons. Let’s show them what a Pegasus can really do.”
“Now witness the firepower of this fully armed and operational battle station!” said Gwen in an odd voice.
“Excuse me?” said Rohan.
“Nothing. Just something I heard in an ancient film once.” Said Gwen with a goofy grin. Rohan simply shook his head.
“You are an odd one at times, Gwen Laidir.”
Outbound
Styx
Dieron Military District, Draconis Combine
1 January 3056
“Kampai!” said Gwen, knocking her bottle of sake against Kai’s proffered bottle.
“Don’t think I’ve ever done a New Years toast in space before.” Replied Kai before taking a swig.
The battle with the fighters had been brief and largely uneventful. Indeed, the firepower of the dropship made short work of four of the light interceptors within the first minute of battle, driving the remaining two into a hasty retreat. Now, thirty six hours out from the planet, the crew and the mercenaries were enjoying a brief respite.
Despite the normally festive nature of New Years celebrations, the mood aboard was somber. Rohan and Gwen together tried to brighten things, but it was not working as well as they’d hoped.
“You’d think this was a wake, not a New Years party.” Said Kai grimly as he glanced over to the corner where Abel, Grayson, and Craig were sitting quietly. Logan had joined them.
“It’s the dining on ashes party.” Grumbled Rohan.
“At least Logan is commiserating with them instead of pretending to be above it all.” Said Gwen.
“That’s enough of that, Gwen.” Said Rohan sternly. “You’ve made your point.”
“You’re too soft on him.” Retorted Gwen.
“No, we’re not. Has it never occurred to you why people like myself and Cowboy and Grayson and others are willing to follow some hotshot kid like Logan to the depths of hell and back? Why we’re the ones willing to take those bullets for him?”
Gwen looked at Rohan, but gave no answer.
“You’re wrong about him. You’ve been with us four or five months, and so far only seen the bluster and bravado. There’s more to him than that. Eventually you’ll see that.”
“Yeah, what do you want me to be?” said Logan, staggering over. “Soft and cuddly? A warrior poet like your precious Joshua? I grew up on the streets. I was the forgotten son of a Rasalhague nobleman who ran away from home and was never missed.” He looked at Rohan. “You call it bluster and bravado. You can’t survive without it where I come from. If you’re not bad ass, you’re nothing, and when you’re nothing you’re dead.”
“You’re drunk, Logan.” Said Gwen condescendingly.
“Yeah, what of it? Let me tell you something. One thing I did learn on the streets. You take care of your own. Leave no one behind.” He slumped to the deck as the alcohol and the weight of his thoughts drove him downward. “When I ran with the gang on New Oslo, we got it in our head to knock off this bank. We were going to be rich. Turns out one of our own was a police plant, one of those agent provokers…”
“Agent provocateur.” Corrected Gwen mildly, her countenance softening as she began to be drawn into the story.
“Whatever. She tricked our leader into the job. They were waiting for us. Cops gunned down my mates, killed them all. Two of us escaped, the plant and myself. I killed her when I found out what she’d done. She murdered my mates and I lived. I should’ve died with the rest of them.”
Logan paused, and then with a violent outburst flung the bottle in his hand against a nearby bulkhead. It shattered into a thousand pieces. “Never again. I lived because I left them behind. Never again. Never leave them behind and I’ll never lead them into a trap again.” He glared at Gwen with an angry malice in his eyes. “You want to talk about who doesn’t care about the lives of my men. Why don’t we start with you and your precious general? You proved that on Styx. Going off on your own, leaving us to be butchered by the Highlanders. And him? I’ve lost more good people being errand boy to General Messer than on any other job. I’m through having my people die at his whimsy. Once we reach the jumper, this operation is over.”
Colmar
Jade Falcon Occupation Zone
1 January 3056
Star Captain Blair snapped to attention as the door to the dropship slid open. The new commander of the 18th Provisional Garrison Cluster was arriving. Blair smiled. A new year, a new commander, and new opportunities for this band of misfits to prove themselves.
The Star Colonel emerged into the bright sunlight and winced for a second. Blair's smile widened even more. Few if any new arrivals to Colmar did not take some adjustment to the brightness of the planet's white sun.
He marched forward to Blair. She saluted and he returned the salute. “I am Star Colonel David and I have come to take command of this garrison.”
“And I, brevet Star Colonel Blair, surrender the command to you.”
“We are given new orders, Star Captain.” said David, marching away from the assembled honor guard and motioning Blair to follow. “I am to prepare this unit for an assault on Clan Wolf assets. I do this under the Khan's orders and out of a personal desire to avenge myself on Clan Wolf.”
“Forgive me, but what wrong have they done you, sir?”
“In August of 54, my former unit was robbed of glory on New Belfast once more by the interference of Clan Wolf. It cost me my commanding officer and has left me to languish in disgrace for the past 18 months.”
Blair made no mention of the fact that David had lost his Trial to claim his former commander's Bloodname, no doubt part of the disgrace to which he referred. Nor did she dare mention that Clan Wolf's interference had little to do with the 2nd Jaegers' defeat on New Belfast. “Another misfit, this one a deluded fanatic. And now the Khan sends us to our doom in a futile raid on Clan Wolf. So be it.”
“What preparations shall we make for this operation?” asked Blair.
“The first thing you can do is see to my mechs.” David waved with his hand and the bay doors on the dropship opened simultaneously. Two machines descended to the tarmac. One a Rifleman IIC, the other a mech Blair did not recognize.
“Two?” inquired Blair curiously.
“The prototype you see has been entrusted to me for further trials. Once we have accumulated what data the scientist caste requires regarding it, I will resume my place in the cockpit of my Rifleman.”
“Very well, sir. And after your machines are secured?”
“I will call a briefing so that we may go over the training regimen for the near future.” He paused, looking at her and seeming to read her doubts. “Whatever you think of me or my history, I will not throw this unit into desperate battle unprepared. When we launch to challenge Clan Wolf, we will be ready and we will win. Of that, you can be certain, Star Captain.”
Chapter Five – Double Cross
Wilderness Zone
Styx
Dieron Military District, Draconis Combine
29 December 3055
“With this speed, we’re only about an hour from the capital.” Reported Logan.
“Recommend you call ahead.” Said Gwen. “They won’t sit tight after that explosion. That force’ll be on the move and I doubt it will be moving to some new staging area.”
“Agreed. They’ll launch their attack.” Replied Rohan.
Tracer fire suddenly lanced across their right side. “We’ve got company.” Said Logan.
“Get that message off.” Ordered Gwen.
Rohan looked out the window as a Warrior class VTOL slice across their aft, its class two autocannon blazing.
“A Warrior. They outgun us.”
“But don’t outrun us. Hang on.”
Logan spun the chopper, hoping to draw a bead on their pursuer, but the enemy pilot kept his distance, making shots with the Ferret’s short-range minigun impossible.
The Warrior opened fire again, raking autocannon fire across the Ferret’s fragile rotor. The small helicopter shuddered. “We’ll not take another hit like that.” Said Gwen.
“Logan to Dark Rangers. Ordering you to scramble. Enemy is likely inbound on the capital or soon will be. Please reply.” No answer was forthcoming.
“No idea if any of them can hear us.”
“Keep trying.”
Logan kept repeating the message as he maneuvered the agile Ferret in an effort to get a bead on the Warrior. The slower but more powerful gunship kept his distance.
Logan snarled and cut across the side of the slower machine, opening fire with the machine gun. Bullets ricocheted off the Warrior’s heavier armor, but Logan smiled to see them finally draw blood on their pursuer. He glanced up at the cockpit of the Warrior and spotted the surviving pilot from his conversation earlier.
The enemy pilot pulled around and opened up with a volley of short range missiles, thankfully missing the agile Ferret. “That was close.” Muttered Rohan.
“So’s this.” Said Logan, swerving around to come around the rear of the Warrior. He fired the machine gun again, slamming .50 caliber rounds into the tail of the enemy machine.
“You’d best mind that.” Said Gwen, pointing beyond Logan towards a massive cliff face dead ahead of them. Logan began to climb the chopper, giving the Warrior the chance to slip away.
Logan cleared the top of the cliff just as four short range missiles slammed into the Ferret. The Warrior had gotten behind them again. This was no minor hit. The engine of the smaller helicopter began to smoke.
“Damn, I think he got us.” Said Logan, wrestling with the controls.
“Can you put down?” asked Gwen.
“I’ll try. This is the part I didn’t practice. Crash landings.”
With that, the Ferret skidded into the dust.
---
The Warrior pilot circled overhead for several minutes, using his spotlight to scan the wreckage of the Ferret for any signs of life. Satisfied that the crash had finished the intruders, he veered off and flew away.
Gwen crawled out of the wreckage and checked herself over. She was bruised and sore, but nothing seemed to be broken or too badly damaged.
“You guys sure know how to show a girl a good time. Since we left the capital two days ago, I’ve been blown up, shot at, had the crap beaten out of me by a cybernetic monster, and now I’ve crashed in the middle of a desert.
“We try.” Said Logan, staggering free of the wreckage himself.
Rohan came next, tumbling out of the twisted hulk. “You know what they say, any landing you can walk away from…”
“Are either of you hurt?”
“Not permanently.” Muttered Rohan.
“I think I’m good, or will be once the ground stops spinning.” Said Logan, staggering about.
“That’s good news.” Said Rohan, pointing off in the distance. Light from the capital city was clearly visible on the horizon.
“Twenty, maybe thirty klicks.” Guessed Gwen. “That will take several hours on foot.”
“Then we’d best be moving, because those rebels certainly will be.” Said Rohan.
“Any idea if our message got through?”
Logan shook his head.
“All the more reason for haste. Come on.”
Styx City
Styx
Dieron Military District, Draconis Combine
30 December 3055
“Talk to me, Doc. What do you have?” said Cowboy as his hands flashed over switches and buttons, working to get his ponderous 95-ton monster to life. He smiled as he watched Doc’s Ryoken advance out of the Pegasus’ bay. “He may not be the best mech pilot the galaxy has ever seen, but no one understands the workings of these machines better. I’ve never been able to power up a mech from cold start as fast as he can.”
“Multiple bogeys inbound on the city.” Replied Doc. “Mostly vehicles and infantry. Mechs holding to the rear. I guess they want to use the tanks to soften us up first.”
“Alright.” Said Cowboy calmly as his mech hummed to life. “Let’s move out. Dark Rangers, form a perimeter around the power plant. I don’t want anything getting through.”
Cowboy shoved his throttle forward and set his giant machine off on a run towards the power plant, which stood as a menacing shadow in the dawn light. He scanned his tactical monitor and saw what Doc had; multiple vehicles moving in a direct line towards the power plant.
“I’ve got your flank.” Said Doc. That went without saying. Doc rarely strayed far from Cowboy in any battle. After a pause, “I wish Logan was here.”
“Nothing we can do about that now, Doc. If he can make it back, he’ll be here.”
Cowboy took his machine off the tarmac of the spaceport and into the civilian neighborhood that bordered it. His tactical showed that several vehicles had broken off from the main thrust, determined to cut the Dark Rangers off before they could establish their perimeter.
“Grayson, Kai, whatever it takes, get around these guys. Doc and I will hold them here.”
“Roger that.” Came the gruff reply from Grayson.
Cowboy continued his advance. His thumbs passed gingerly over the firing studs for his weapons, ready for action. Suddenly, his radio cackled to life. “Cowboy, we just got back.” It was Logan, who sounded tired and quite out of breath.
“Never thought I’d find a time when I’d be glad to hear your voice.” Teased Cowboy.
“Just shut up.” Snarled Logan impatiently. “Just hold them off as long as you can.”
“Roger.” Replied Cowboy, ignoring Logan’s obviously foul mood. “Wonder what he’s been through.” He thought to himself as he watched Doc pull away to go down an adjacent block.
Cowboy turned the corner around a shopping center and smiled. Running down the street next to the plaza were four light Scorpion tanks in rebel colors. All four spun their turrets to draw a bead on his Banshee. Cowboy replied by dropping his targeting reticule onto the first.
The tanks fired first, their autocannons roaring to life. Cowboy felt the thump of the impacts as the 20mm shells rattled off his heavy armor. But he ignored it as he squeezed the trigger for his gauss rifle. The heavy metal slug fired and cored through the first tank, blowing it to bits.
Without hesitation, Cowboy walked the reticule up each tank in turn. His twin Clan technology PPCs took out the second and third Scorpion in turn. His Streak SRM pounded the last, but it weathered the impacts and immediately retreated backwards down the street.
A flash of laser fire finished it off as it reached the intersection. Doc’s Ryoken marched up and gave the crippled vehicle an indignant kick as he walked past.
“More to come.” Said Doc.
“No doubt.” Said Cowboy. “Let’s rejoin the others.”
As Cowboy headed north down the street, an LRM volley slammed into his mech’s leg. Cowboy turned and spotted a rebel Rommel tank coming down the street towards him. Grateful that the enemy tank was not yet in range to use its Class 20 autocannon, he returned fire with his PPC and gauss rifle. But caught off guard as he was, Cowboy’s aim was off and his shots missed.
“Bogey at 10 o’clock.” Warned Cowboy.
The Rommel closed the gap as Doc moved up behind Cowboy. Its autocannon roared to life as it entered range and the heavy depleted uranium shells tore into the Banshee’s torso. Unlike the light cannon on the Scorpions, this was no pop gun and the Banshee staggered under the impacts. Cowboy snarled and worked the control sticks to keep his machine upright. He dropped his targeting reticule onto the tank and opened fire with his PPCs.
Behind him, Doc also opened fire on the tank. Between the two of them, even the powerful Rommel was no match and the tank was left a burning hulk in seconds.
But Cowboy then realized his impulsive error. Having used his PPCs only a few seconds before to finish the Scorpions, his mech was already running hot. Another volley spiked the heat and his engine alarm blared in his cockpit: Emergency shutdown.
“Shit! No!” Cowboy slammed his hand down on the override, trying to keep the mech from shutting down to vent its waste heat, but it was too late. The cockpit went dark as the engine shut off. Off-balance, the 95 ton monster crashed down onto the pavement.
Cowboy slammed forward against his restraining straps. He let out a yell of frustration and embarrassment. “Stupid rookie mistake! I’m better than this.”
Doc moved forward to cover for his disabled friend. As he did, a Zhukov heavy tank turned the corner and opened fire with its Class 10 autocannon. The heavy shells missed Doc’s mech and Doc returned fire.
“Come on, Cowboy, get up. If the rest of this tank lance shows up, I’m in trouble.” Said Doc aloud. In a shutdown machine, Cowboy could not hear his plea.
His words proved prophetic as a second Zhukov appeared. This one was more accurate and its cannon fire tore across the legs of Doc’s Ryoken. The armor was battered but held.
Cowboy’s machine quickly vented its waste heat and Cowboy was grateful to hear the hum of his engine as it automatically restarted. He brought the Banshee back to its feet and moved south down a side street, headed for the one Zhukov. Doc headed after the other.
The Zhukov’s focused their fire on the monstrous Banshee, ignoring for the moment Doc’s Ryoken. Four Class 10 autocannon were a threat to any mech, even one as powerful as a Banshee, and the gunners did not miss. With his armor shredded by the heavy fire, Cowboy struggled to keep his mech upright against the impacts. But even with his skill, it was simply too much. The Banshee went down once more onto the pavement. Doc cried out in dismay as his friend’s powerful mech crashed to the earth.
“Do I have to rescue you two newbies again?” came a voice. Logan!
Flaming gel from Logan’s inferno missiles washed over the lead Zhukov, baking the tank where it sat on the street. Lasers from Rohan’s mech, a Crab salvaged on Northwind to replace the one he’d lost there, lashed into the armor of the second. It turned away from Cowboy to face the new threat and Doc opened fire. His gauss rifle shot struck home on the tank’s flank, opening a huge fissure in its armor.
“Cutting it a little close, wouldn’t you say?” commented Doc.
“Best we could do.” Said Gwen. Her Linebacker moved up along side Cowboy’s crippled machine, firing its PPCs at the remaining Zhukov. With four Battlemechs firing upon it, the tank blew apart. “Believe me when I tell you we’ve been through hell to get here.”
“I believe you.” Said Doc. “That’s three tanks down. One more in that lance.”
“Alright, let’s find that poor bastard.” Said Logan.
Gwen scanned her tactical monitor as Rohan and Logan pulled their machines search for the last rebel vehicle. “Guys, the Highlanders are moving.”
“About time.” Said Logan.
“They’re not headed our way. Their course takes them directly into the city.”
“They outnumber us, so they can force us to choose between the power plant and the city itself. Damn them.” Snarled Rohan in frustration.
“Where the hell are the planet’s defenders?” replied Logan also with frustration in his voice. “It’s not like we’re being paid to help the government here.”
Gwen switched over her communicator to a wide-beam frequency. “Dark Rangers to militia command. Styx Capital and main power plant under heavy attack. This is your battle, not ours. Where are you?”
There was no answer.
“No reply from anyone remotely official.” Said Gwen to the others. “My guess is they’ve already subverted the planetary militia. That might explain the heavy tanks, since we didn’t see anything remotely like a Zhukov or Rommel at the rebel base.”
“Then this battle is lost.” Grumbled Logan.
“And they won’t hostage the power plant if they already control the government.” Deduced Rohan.
“Then the power plant is the diversion.” Said Logan. “Logan to all Dark Rangers! Withdraw to the city. The power plant is not the real target.”
Gwen spun her mech around and shoved the throttle forward. “Gwen!” barked Logan. “Where are you going?”
“To buy us time.”
---
Gwen pushed her mech to its limits to close the gap between the outer suburbs and the center of the city. She knew that if the rebels controlled the militia, they would soon overwhelm the Dark Rangers. The last thing they needed was to ransom their own freedom from a faction that had hired O’Malley and his troops. By the time they did that, O’Malley would be well beyond their reach.
O’Malley’s two mech companies were splitting up to secure various points of the city. She recognized the pattern. They were forming a perimeter around a central point, but as Gwen watched her tactical monitor, she was surprised to note that the central point of the circle was not the main government complex. It was the ISF Building.
“Why secure that before anything else? It would make better sense to take the capital complex, to capture any civic leaders who would be opposed to this coup so to prevent them from causing trouble later.” Gwen thought. “Maybe to find out who those loyalists are. The ISF data files would certainly have that information, but it still makes more sense to secure the bodies before securing the data. Unless…”
A laser strike pulled her away from her thoughts. She looked away from the tactical monitor and immediately spotted a pair of old Locust scout mechs bearing down on her from a side street. She had reached the Highlander perimeter.
Gwen shoved her throttle forward and dashed down the street at nearly top speed. The Highlander scout lance spread out to intercept her. As she cleared the corner of a large office building, she twisted her mech, dropped her targeting reticule onto one of the Locusts and fired. The heavy Clan PPC disintegrated the Highlander mech’s left leg and send the small scout mech crashing into the pavement.
Without missing a beat, she veered down a side street to the right, watching as the remaining three mechs moved to intercept her. One of the advantages of her Linebacker was its speed. Few heavy mechs could match it and it was very much the equal of her Highlander pursuers in speed.
Even so, the confined area of the city streets allowed a Highlander Phoenix Hawk to jump into point blank range. Gwen twisted again and opened fire, holding back a PPC to conserve heat. Her anti-personnel machine guns raked across the Phoenix Hawk, doing only minor damage, but her second PPC missed and slammed into the building.
Gwen let her pace take her past the Phoenix Hawk to another intersection. She pulled to the left to go down another side street when she spotted the second Highlander Locust closing. She squeezed the trigger on her PPC and watched with satisfaction as the entire right side of the 20 ton mech exploded from the particle beam.
Gwen kept her throttle up as she finished her turn, moving quickly past the crippled Locust as the Phoenix Hawk resumed its pursuit. Despite its heavy damage, the Locust pilot was not finished yet, and he spun around to pursue her as well.
“Unwise.” Thought Gwen to herself, swinging her mech’s arm backwards to bring the PPC to bear again. But her shot went wide this time, scorching across a nearby building. The Locust’s single medium laser flashed over her head, unable to strike home against Gwen’s speedy Clan machine.
Gwen swung another left turn again, smiling as she wondered if her pursuers would follow her in circles. Off to her left, she saw the Phoenix Hawk jet into the air again. “Guess not.”
The Phoenix Hawk came down right behind her, with a full view of her vulnerable back armor. She brought her left arm around and fired at him, ripping into his mech with PPC and both machine guns. But he gave as good as he got and Gwen felt her mech shudder as laser and machine gun fire shredded her back armor.
Still, the lighter Phoenix Hawk came out the worse for it. The PPC had struck dead center and nearly cored through his engine and gyro. Badly damaged, the mech went crashing down to the pavement. Gwen saw her opportunity and slammed her throttle back to bring her mech to a screeching halt. The Linebacker nearly pitched forward on the slippery pavement, but she kept her feet and spun around to finish the Phoenix Hawk.
Gwen squeezed the triggers for both her PPCs. She didn’t bother to look down at the crippled mech at her feet, knowing that in its condition, it would not survive. Instead she scanned the horizon for the rest of the lance. She had yet to encounter one of the enemy lance, and she wondered where he might be.
Sure enough, a Firestarter emerged from behind a nearby building and rushed towards Gwen’s machine. Gwen stood her ground and savaged the light mech with her weapons. Much like the two Locusts, the 35-ton Firestarter simply did not have the armor to weather a barrage from Gwen’s heavy Clan-technology weaponry. The Firestarter crashed on top of the destroyed Phoenix Hawk and Gwen finished the mauled mech with a swift kick.
Now only the badly damaged pair of Locusts remained. Gwen checked her tactical. As she had suspected, the light scouts were only meant to slow her down, but the Highlanders may have been taken a bit aback by how little time they had cost her. Not wanting to leave an enemy, even a heavily damaged one, at her back, Gwen moved to finish off the pair.
The first one was still lying on the street where Gwen had amputated its leg. She chose to ignore this one; it was no threat. The other, while minus much of its right side, could still move and pursue her. She felt her mech shake as its medium laser scorched across the armor of her right arm. She turned her mech to pursue, but the Locust was already moving away at high speed.
“Hit and fade.” Mused Gwen. “Force me to run out what little time I have before the rest of them get here. Damn you. But you’ve got to come back to me somehow…”
Gwen yanked on her control sticks hard and pulled her mech down an alley. As predicted, the alley led to the very street the Locust was using to move behind her again. She emerged onto the street less than 30 meters from the Locust. A full barrage of her weapons finished him.
Satisfied that all her opponents were defeated, Gwen now turned her attention back to her original objective, the ISF building. The Highlander perimeter was narrowing fast, but she still had a few seconds to get to ground before another Highlander unit intercepted her. She dashed up the street towards the ISF building.
The building where the Rangers had met with Narataki was a non-descript brick building, of a design popular in the pre-spaceflight days of the early 20th century. Gwen approached with some caution. Her tactical showed only a few civilian cars in the area.
“One of those is not what it appears to be.” She deduced. She yanked on her control sticks and brought her mech to a stop next to a steel-and-glass skyscraper maybe a block from the ISF building. She immediately powered down, essentially making her mech invisible to her pursuers.
“Time to find an alternate means of transportation.” She mused as she popped her canopy. She reached behind her into her cockpit’s storage locker and fetched her jumpsuit and a grapple gun. She hurriedly dressed into the jump suit and then took aim with the grapple gun on the building next to her. A squeeze of the trigger and in a few short seconds, Gwen was being winched up towards the roof.
After pulling herself up, she ran across the building’s roof top to the other side. As she hoped, Gwen now looked down on the roof of the ISF building across the street, probably 50 meters away. She could now confirm what her tactical had showed her; a number of civilian cars were clustered near the front door in a haphazard pattern. They had probably delivered some manner of commando team, sent to retrieve whatever data O’Malley wanted from this place.
Gwen did not think about how outnumbered she might be once she got inside. She hoisted up her grapple gun again and took aim. She fired a zip line across to the ISF building and smiled when she heard the reassuring thud as the grapple anchored itself in the brick of the opposite building. Setting down her grapple gun, she quickly anchored it and then slid down the wire to the roof of the ISF building.
Upon touching down, she quickly drew her blaster and scanned about. There were no guards on the roof, which Gwen noted as odd. She knew that entry into the ISF building from here would not be easy. There were no windows within two stories of the top of building and the roof access door would be soundly and securely locked to prevent her entry. Despite that, the door was her only option. She headed over to it and looked at the access keypad.
When Gwen had been stationed on Styx, she had been told the access codes for entry and egress from any ISF facility on the planet. But that was years ago now and Gwen doubted highly that her old codes would still work. Rather than attempt to guess at a code, she thought “Well, if O’Malley’s people are downstairs already, setting an alarm off up here isn’t going to matter.” With that, she pointed her blaster at the lock and fired.
The miniature PPC bolt made short work of the steel bolt that held the door secure. Gwen yanked the door open and dashed down the stairs quickly. She guessed they would be in the primary records room, wherever that was, looking for data on the loyalty of the planetary leadership.
She passed the first door, labeled Archives in Japanese, and was surprised to hear muffled voices behind. Unsure that those voices belonged to intruders or ISF employees, she decided to investigate. She turned and walked back the few steps and tried the door. It was locked, but this lock was a more simple mechanical lock that Gwen easily picked.
She opened the door slowly and quietly and slipped into the room. The room was as she expected: filled with large shelves with hardcopy documents interspersed with large computer data banks filled with multi-terabyte hard drives. Gwen stopped briefly to think about the sheer amount of data the ISF collected on the people of the Styx and it gave her pause. “Police state indeed.” She said to herself.
The voices from the other side of the room drew her back to the moment at hand. She could now hear them clearly and recognized that they were speaking English, not Japanese. While they could still be ISF operatives of some sort, the likelihood of that just minimized. These were some of O’Malley’s people. But what were they snooping around for here?
“Found it. Personnel file #32761.” Said a voice.
“And where is she now?” said another, a woman. Her accent was clearly High class Northwind. “Excellent. Get me a print out.”
Gwen moved closer, using the sound of the shuffling pages on the printer to mask her approach. She peaked around a computer cabinet and saw two people at a computer terminal. Both were wearing Highlander uniforms. The seated one leaned back, as if satisfied by a job well done. The standing woman was hovering over a nearby laser printer as it shuffled out page after page.
“There not after loyalty data on the planetary government. They’re looking for a specific individual.” Gwen deduced. “Let’s find out who.” She raised her blaster. Which one to shoot first? Gwen was pretty certain she could take them both very quickly, so she decided on the easier first shot: the seated Highlander.
She squeezed the trigger and the blaster fired. The PPC bolt blasted through the office chair into the Highlander’s back. He let off a brief cry of pain before the superhot plasma fried his spine and lungs in an instant. He never stood a chance.
Fast as lightning, Gwen turned her weapon on the other and fired again. But she had underestimated the second Highlander’s quickness. This time, the blaster bolt hit empty air. The Highlander had ducked and was now crawling for cover.
“Damn.” Swore Gwen aloud. Gwen stepped out from behind cover to finish her.
Suddenly, Gwen spotted movement in the corner of her eye. Instinctively, she darted back to her cover. Fortunate for her. Bullets ricocheted off the metal computer cabinet as two additional Highlanders appeared near the elevator. Gwen cursed herself for failing to check to see if there were any more besides the two at the terminal.
Gwen popped around and fired her blaster, but these two were too good to let her have an easy shot. The woman used the distraction to snatch up her printed documents and make for the elevator. The two newcomers kept up a steady stream of fire from their submachine guns, keeping Gwen pinned down. They backed into the elevator after the woman and the doors closed.
Gwen moved forward, eyes always on the elevator on the off chance they would come back to finish her off. She moved over to the computer terminal and shoved the corpse out of the chair. On the monitor, she could still see what they had been searching for; the surprise of her attack had prevented them from shutting off the terminal and hiding their tracks.
It was a personnel file for a retired ISF agent. Gwen recognized the name immediately: Keiko Yamada, her old DEST trainer.
“What would O’Malley want with her personnel file?” Gwen mused aloud. He scanned down. The file was thorough, having within it education data, birthplace, family information, as well as her assignments over the years. Gwen paused at the latter and spotted one of the earliest entries.
• Combat Operative – Attached 5th Sword of Light – Northwind Assault – 12/3028 – 3/3029
“Logan said O’Malley was settling scores, but wasn’t for the Conspiracy.” She thought to herself. “It was for himself. Yamada gave the order for the suicide teams on Northwind. She’s the one that killed O’Malley’s wife.”
---
“Your grace!” called Captain Christopher over the comm channel.
“Yes, John.” Replied Baron Ian, scanning about from the cockpit of his Victor.
“Celine has the package. Also rebel forces report the city is mostly secure at this time.”
“Define mostly.” Said Ian warily.
“The militia has either converted or surrendered, but the Dark Rangers remain at large.”
Ian nodded. “Send Lieutenant Ramius’s lance. Destroy their dropship.”
“Roger.”
Styx
Dieron Military District, Draconis Combine
29 December 3055
“With this speed, we’re only about an hour from the capital.” Reported Logan.
“Recommend you call ahead.” Said Gwen. “They won’t sit tight after that explosion. That force’ll be on the move and I doubt it will be moving to some new staging area.”
“Agreed. They’ll launch their attack.” Replied Rohan.
Tracer fire suddenly lanced across their right side. “We’ve got company.” Said Logan.
“Get that message off.” Ordered Gwen.
Rohan looked out the window as a Warrior class VTOL slice across their aft, its class two autocannon blazing.
“A Warrior. They outgun us.”
“But don’t outrun us. Hang on.”
Logan spun the chopper, hoping to draw a bead on their pursuer, but the enemy pilot kept his distance, making shots with the Ferret’s short-range minigun impossible.
The Warrior opened fire again, raking autocannon fire across the Ferret’s fragile rotor. The small helicopter shuddered. “We’ll not take another hit like that.” Said Gwen.
“Logan to Dark Rangers. Ordering you to scramble. Enemy is likely inbound on the capital or soon will be. Please reply.” No answer was forthcoming.
“No idea if any of them can hear us.”
“Keep trying.”
Logan kept repeating the message as he maneuvered the agile Ferret in an effort to get a bead on the Warrior. The slower but more powerful gunship kept his distance.
Logan snarled and cut across the side of the slower machine, opening fire with the machine gun. Bullets ricocheted off the Warrior’s heavier armor, but Logan smiled to see them finally draw blood on their pursuer. He glanced up at the cockpit of the Warrior and spotted the surviving pilot from his conversation earlier.
The enemy pilot pulled around and opened up with a volley of short range missiles, thankfully missing the agile Ferret. “That was close.” Muttered Rohan.
“So’s this.” Said Logan, swerving around to come around the rear of the Warrior. He fired the machine gun again, slamming .50 caliber rounds into the tail of the enemy machine.
“You’d best mind that.” Said Gwen, pointing beyond Logan towards a massive cliff face dead ahead of them. Logan began to climb the chopper, giving the Warrior the chance to slip away.
Logan cleared the top of the cliff just as four short range missiles slammed into the Ferret. The Warrior had gotten behind them again. This was no minor hit. The engine of the smaller helicopter began to smoke.
“Damn, I think he got us.” Said Logan, wrestling with the controls.
“Can you put down?” asked Gwen.
“I’ll try. This is the part I didn’t practice. Crash landings.”
With that, the Ferret skidded into the dust.
---
The Warrior pilot circled overhead for several minutes, using his spotlight to scan the wreckage of the Ferret for any signs of life. Satisfied that the crash had finished the intruders, he veered off and flew away.
Gwen crawled out of the wreckage and checked herself over. She was bruised and sore, but nothing seemed to be broken or too badly damaged.
“You guys sure know how to show a girl a good time. Since we left the capital two days ago, I’ve been blown up, shot at, had the crap beaten out of me by a cybernetic monster, and now I’ve crashed in the middle of a desert.
“We try.” Said Logan, staggering free of the wreckage himself.
Rohan came next, tumbling out of the twisted hulk. “You know what they say, any landing you can walk away from…”
“Are either of you hurt?”
“Not permanently.” Muttered Rohan.
“I think I’m good, or will be once the ground stops spinning.” Said Logan, staggering about.
“That’s good news.” Said Rohan, pointing off in the distance. Light from the capital city was clearly visible on the horizon.
“Twenty, maybe thirty klicks.” Guessed Gwen. “That will take several hours on foot.”
“Then we’d best be moving, because those rebels certainly will be.” Said Rohan.
“Any idea if our message got through?”
Logan shook his head.
“All the more reason for haste. Come on.”
Styx City
Styx
Dieron Military District, Draconis Combine
30 December 3055
“Talk to me, Doc. What do you have?” said Cowboy as his hands flashed over switches and buttons, working to get his ponderous 95-ton monster to life. He smiled as he watched Doc’s Ryoken advance out of the Pegasus’ bay. “He may not be the best mech pilot the galaxy has ever seen, but no one understands the workings of these machines better. I’ve never been able to power up a mech from cold start as fast as he can.”
“Multiple bogeys inbound on the city.” Replied Doc. “Mostly vehicles and infantry. Mechs holding to the rear. I guess they want to use the tanks to soften us up first.”
“Alright.” Said Cowboy calmly as his mech hummed to life. “Let’s move out. Dark Rangers, form a perimeter around the power plant. I don’t want anything getting through.”
Cowboy shoved his throttle forward and set his giant machine off on a run towards the power plant, which stood as a menacing shadow in the dawn light. He scanned his tactical monitor and saw what Doc had; multiple vehicles moving in a direct line towards the power plant.
“I’ve got your flank.” Said Doc. That went without saying. Doc rarely strayed far from Cowboy in any battle. After a pause, “I wish Logan was here.”
“Nothing we can do about that now, Doc. If he can make it back, he’ll be here.”
Cowboy took his machine off the tarmac of the spaceport and into the civilian neighborhood that bordered it. His tactical showed that several vehicles had broken off from the main thrust, determined to cut the Dark Rangers off before they could establish their perimeter.
“Grayson, Kai, whatever it takes, get around these guys. Doc and I will hold them here.”
“Roger that.” Came the gruff reply from Grayson.
Cowboy continued his advance. His thumbs passed gingerly over the firing studs for his weapons, ready for action. Suddenly, his radio cackled to life. “Cowboy, we just got back.” It was Logan, who sounded tired and quite out of breath.
“Never thought I’d find a time when I’d be glad to hear your voice.” Teased Cowboy.
“Just shut up.” Snarled Logan impatiently. “Just hold them off as long as you can.”
“Roger.” Replied Cowboy, ignoring Logan’s obviously foul mood. “Wonder what he’s been through.” He thought to himself as he watched Doc pull away to go down an adjacent block.
Cowboy turned the corner around a shopping center and smiled. Running down the street next to the plaza were four light Scorpion tanks in rebel colors. All four spun their turrets to draw a bead on his Banshee. Cowboy replied by dropping his targeting reticule onto the first.
The tanks fired first, their autocannons roaring to life. Cowboy felt the thump of the impacts as the 20mm shells rattled off his heavy armor. But he ignored it as he squeezed the trigger for his gauss rifle. The heavy metal slug fired and cored through the first tank, blowing it to bits.
Without hesitation, Cowboy walked the reticule up each tank in turn. His twin Clan technology PPCs took out the second and third Scorpion in turn. His Streak SRM pounded the last, but it weathered the impacts and immediately retreated backwards down the street.
A flash of laser fire finished it off as it reached the intersection. Doc’s Ryoken marched up and gave the crippled vehicle an indignant kick as he walked past.
“More to come.” Said Doc.
“No doubt.” Said Cowboy. “Let’s rejoin the others.”
As Cowboy headed north down the street, an LRM volley slammed into his mech’s leg. Cowboy turned and spotted a rebel Rommel tank coming down the street towards him. Grateful that the enemy tank was not yet in range to use its Class 20 autocannon, he returned fire with his PPC and gauss rifle. But caught off guard as he was, Cowboy’s aim was off and his shots missed.
“Bogey at 10 o’clock.” Warned Cowboy.
The Rommel closed the gap as Doc moved up behind Cowboy. Its autocannon roared to life as it entered range and the heavy depleted uranium shells tore into the Banshee’s torso. Unlike the light cannon on the Scorpions, this was no pop gun and the Banshee staggered under the impacts. Cowboy snarled and worked the control sticks to keep his machine upright. He dropped his targeting reticule onto the tank and opened fire with his PPCs.
Behind him, Doc also opened fire on the tank. Between the two of them, even the powerful Rommel was no match and the tank was left a burning hulk in seconds.
But Cowboy then realized his impulsive error. Having used his PPCs only a few seconds before to finish the Scorpions, his mech was already running hot. Another volley spiked the heat and his engine alarm blared in his cockpit: Emergency shutdown.
“Shit! No!” Cowboy slammed his hand down on the override, trying to keep the mech from shutting down to vent its waste heat, but it was too late. The cockpit went dark as the engine shut off. Off-balance, the 95 ton monster crashed down onto the pavement.
Cowboy slammed forward against his restraining straps. He let out a yell of frustration and embarrassment. “Stupid rookie mistake! I’m better than this.”
Doc moved forward to cover for his disabled friend. As he did, a Zhukov heavy tank turned the corner and opened fire with its Class 10 autocannon. The heavy shells missed Doc’s mech and Doc returned fire.
“Come on, Cowboy, get up. If the rest of this tank lance shows up, I’m in trouble.” Said Doc aloud. In a shutdown machine, Cowboy could not hear his plea.
His words proved prophetic as a second Zhukov appeared. This one was more accurate and its cannon fire tore across the legs of Doc’s Ryoken. The armor was battered but held.
Cowboy’s machine quickly vented its waste heat and Cowboy was grateful to hear the hum of his engine as it automatically restarted. He brought the Banshee back to its feet and moved south down a side street, headed for the one Zhukov. Doc headed after the other.
The Zhukov’s focused their fire on the monstrous Banshee, ignoring for the moment Doc’s Ryoken. Four Class 10 autocannon were a threat to any mech, even one as powerful as a Banshee, and the gunners did not miss. With his armor shredded by the heavy fire, Cowboy struggled to keep his mech upright against the impacts. But even with his skill, it was simply too much. The Banshee went down once more onto the pavement. Doc cried out in dismay as his friend’s powerful mech crashed to the earth.
“Do I have to rescue you two newbies again?” came a voice. Logan!
Flaming gel from Logan’s inferno missiles washed over the lead Zhukov, baking the tank where it sat on the street. Lasers from Rohan’s mech, a Crab salvaged on Northwind to replace the one he’d lost there, lashed into the armor of the second. It turned away from Cowboy to face the new threat and Doc opened fire. His gauss rifle shot struck home on the tank’s flank, opening a huge fissure in its armor.
“Cutting it a little close, wouldn’t you say?” commented Doc.
“Best we could do.” Said Gwen. Her Linebacker moved up along side Cowboy’s crippled machine, firing its PPCs at the remaining Zhukov. With four Battlemechs firing upon it, the tank blew apart. “Believe me when I tell you we’ve been through hell to get here.”
“I believe you.” Said Doc. “That’s three tanks down. One more in that lance.”
“Alright, let’s find that poor bastard.” Said Logan.
Gwen scanned her tactical monitor as Rohan and Logan pulled their machines search for the last rebel vehicle. “Guys, the Highlanders are moving.”
“About time.” Said Logan.
“They’re not headed our way. Their course takes them directly into the city.”
“They outnumber us, so they can force us to choose between the power plant and the city itself. Damn them.” Snarled Rohan in frustration.
“Where the hell are the planet’s defenders?” replied Logan also with frustration in his voice. “It’s not like we’re being paid to help the government here.”
Gwen switched over her communicator to a wide-beam frequency. “Dark Rangers to militia command. Styx Capital and main power plant under heavy attack. This is your battle, not ours. Where are you?”
There was no answer.
“No reply from anyone remotely official.” Said Gwen to the others. “My guess is they’ve already subverted the planetary militia. That might explain the heavy tanks, since we didn’t see anything remotely like a Zhukov or Rommel at the rebel base.”
“Then this battle is lost.” Grumbled Logan.
“And they won’t hostage the power plant if they already control the government.” Deduced Rohan.
“Then the power plant is the diversion.” Said Logan. “Logan to all Dark Rangers! Withdraw to the city. The power plant is not the real target.”
Gwen spun her mech around and shoved the throttle forward. “Gwen!” barked Logan. “Where are you going?”
“To buy us time.”
---
Gwen pushed her mech to its limits to close the gap between the outer suburbs and the center of the city. She knew that if the rebels controlled the militia, they would soon overwhelm the Dark Rangers. The last thing they needed was to ransom their own freedom from a faction that had hired O’Malley and his troops. By the time they did that, O’Malley would be well beyond their reach.
O’Malley’s two mech companies were splitting up to secure various points of the city. She recognized the pattern. They were forming a perimeter around a central point, but as Gwen watched her tactical monitor, she was surprised to note that the central point of the circle was not the main government complex. It was the ISF Building.
“Why secure that before anything else? It would make better sense to take the capital complex, to capture any civic leaders who would be opposed to this coup so to prevent them from causing trouble later.” Gwen thought. “Maybe to find out who those loyalists are. The ISF data files would certainly have that information, but it still makes more sense to secure the bodies before securing the data. Unless…”
A laser strike pulled her away from her thoughts. She looked away from the tactical monitor and immediately spotted a pair of old Locust scout mechs bearing down on her from a side street. She had reached the Highlander perimeter.
Gwen shoved her throttle forward and dashed down the street at nearly top speed. The Highlander scout lance spread out to intercept her. As she cleared the corner of a large office building, she twisted her mech, dropped her targeting reticule onto one of the Locusts and fired. The heavy Clan PPC disintegrated the Highlander mech’s left leg and send the small scout mech crashing into the pavement.
Without missing a beat, she veered down a side street to the right, watching as the remaining three mechs moved to intercept her. One of the advantages of her Linebacker was its speed. Few heavy mechs could match it and it was very much the equal of her Highlander pursuers in speed.
Even so, the confined area of the city streets allowed a Highlander Phoenix Hawk to jump into point blank range. Gwen twisted again and opened fire, holding back a PPC to conserve heat. Her anti-personnel machine guns raked across the Phoenix Hawk, doing only minor damage, but her second PPC missed and slammed into the building.
Gwen let her pace take her past the Phoenix Hawk to another intersection. She pulled to the left to go down another side street when she spotted the second Highlander Locust closing. She squeezed the trigger on her PPC and watched with satisfaction as the entire right side of the 20 ton mech exploded from the particle beam.
Gwen kept her throttle up as she finished her turn, moving quickly past the crippled Locust as the Phoenix Hawk resumed its pursuit. Despite its heavy damage, the Locust pilot was not finished yet, and he spun around to pursue her as well.
“Unwise.” Thought Gwen to herself, swinging her mech’s arm backwards to bring the PPC to bear again. But her shot went wide this time, scorching across a nearby building. The Locust’s single medium laser flashed over her head, unable to strike home against Gwen’s speedy Clan machine.
Gwen swung another left turn again, smiling as she wondered if her pursuers would follow her in circles. Off to her left, she saw the Phoenix Hawk jet into the air again. “Guess not.”
The Phoenix Hawk came down right behind her, with a full view of her vulnerable back armor. She brought her left arm around and fired at him, ripping into his mech with PPC and both machine guns. But he gave as good as he got and Gwen felt her mech shudder as laser and machine gun fire shredded her back armor.
Still, the lighter Phoenix Hawk came out the worse for it. The PPC had struck dead center and nearly cored through his engine and gyro. Badly damaged, the mech went crashing down to the pavement. Gwen saw her opportunity and slammed her throttle back to bring her mech to a screeching halt. The Linebacker nearly pitched forward on the slippery pavement, but she kept her feet and spun around to finish the Phoenix Hawk.
Gwen squeezed the triggers for both her PPCs. She didn’t bother to look down at the crippled mech at her feet, knowing that in its condition, it would not survive. Instead she scanned the horizon for the rest of the lance. She had yet to encounter one of the enemy lance, and she wondered where he might be.
Sure enough, a Firestarter emerged from behind a nearby building and rushed towards Gwen’s machine. Gwen stood her ground and savaged the light mech with her weapons. Much like the two Locusts, the 35-ton Firestarter simply did not have the armor to weather a barrage from Gwen’s heavy Clan-technology weaponry. The Firestarter crashed on top of the destroyed Phoenix Hawk and Gwen finished the mauled mech with a swift kick.
Now only the badly damaged pair of Locusts remained. Gwen checked her tactical. As she had suspected, the light scouts were only meant to slow her down, but the Highlanders may have been taken a bit aback by how little time they had cost her. Not wanting to leave an enemy, even a heavily damaged one, at her back, Gwen moved to finish off the pair.
The first one was still lying on the street where Gwen had amputated its leg. She chose to ignore this one; it was no threat. The other, while minus much of its right side, could still move and pursue her. She felt her mech shake as its medium laser scorched across the armor of her right arm. She turned her mech to pursue, but the Locust was already moving away at high speed.
“Hit and fade.” Mused Gwen. “Force me to run out what little time I have before the rest of them get here. Damn you. But you’ve got to come back to me somehow…”
Gwen yanked on her control sticks hard and pulled her mech down an alley. As predicted, the alley led to the very street the Locust was using to move behind her again. She emerged onto the street less than 30 meters from the Locust. A full barrage of her weapons finished him.
Satisfied that all her opponents were defeated, Gwen now turned her attention back to her original objective, the ISF building. The Highlander perimeter was narrowing fast, but she still had a few seconds to get to ground before another Highlander unit intercepted her. She dashed up the street towards the ISF building.
The building where the Rangers had met with Narataki was a non-descript brick building, of a design popular in the pre-spaceflight days of the early 20th century. Gwen approached with some caution. Her tactical showed only a few civilian cars in the area.
“One of those is not what it appears to be.” She deduced. She yanked on her control sticks and brought her mech to a stop next to a steel-and-glass skyscraper maybe a block from the ISF building. She immediately powered down, essentially making her mech invisible to her pursuers.
“Time to find an alternate means of transportation.” She mused as she popped her canopy. She reached behind her into her cockpit’s storage locker and fetched her jumpsuit and a grapple gun. She hurriedly dressed into the jump suit and then took aim with the grapple gun on the building next to her. A squeeze of the trigger and in a few short seconds, Gwen was being winched up towards the roof.
After pulling herself up, she ran across the building’s roof top to the other side. As she hoped, Gwen now looked down on the roof of the ISF building across the street, probably 50 meters away. She could now confirm what her tactical had showed her; a number of civilian cars were clustered near the front door in a haphazard pattern. They had probably delivered some manner of commando team, sent to retrieve whatever data O’Malley wanted from this place.
Gwen did not think about how outnumbered she might be once she got inside. She hoisted up her grapple gun again and took aim. She fired a zip line across to the ISF building and smiled when she heard the reassuring thud as the grapple anchored itself in the brick of the opposite building. Setting down her grapple gun, she quickly anchored it and then slid down the wire to the roof of the ISF building.
Upon touching down, she quickly drew her blaster and scanned about. There were no guards on the roof, which Gwen noted as odd. She knew that entry into the ISF building from here would not be easy. There were no windows within two stories of the top of building and the roof access door would be soundly and securely locked to prevent her entry. Despite that, the door was her only option. She headed over to it and looked at the access keypad.
When Gwen had been stationed on Styx, she had been told the access codes for entry and egress from any ISF facility on the planet. But that was years ago now and Gwen doubted highly that her old codes would still work. Rather than attempt to guess at a code, she thought “Well, if O’Malley’s people are downstairs already, setting an alarm off up here isn’t going to matter.” With that, she pointed her blaster at the lock and fired.
The miniature PPC bolt made short work of the steel bolt that held the door secure. Gwen yanked the door open and dashed down the stairs quickly. She guessed they would be in the primary records room, wherever that was, looking for data on the loyalty of the planetary leadership.
She passed the first door, labeled Archives in Japanese, and was surprised to hear muffled voices behind. Unsure that those voices belonged to intruders or ISF employees, she decided to investigate. She turned and walked back the few steps and tried the door. It was locked, but this lock was a more simple mechanical lock that Gwen easily picked.
She opened the door slowly and quietly and slipped into the room. The room was as she expected: filled with large shelves with hardcopy documents interspersed with large computer data banks filled with multi-terabyte hard drives. Gwen stopped briefly to think about the sheer amount of data the ISF collected on the people of the Styx and it gave her pause. “Police state indeed.” She said to herself.
The voices from the other side of the room drew her back to the moment at hand. She could now hear them clearly and recognized that they were speaking English, not Japanese. While they could still be ISF operatives of some sort, the likelihood of that just minimized. These were some of O’Malley’s people. But what were they snooping around for here?
“Found it. Personnel file #32761.” Said a voice.
“And where is she now?” said another, a woman. Her accent was clearly High class Northwind. “Excellent. Get me a print out.”
Gwen moved closer, using the sound of the shuffling pages on the printer to mask her approach. She peaked around a computer cabinet and saw two people at a computer terminal. Both were wearing Highlander uniforms. The seated one leaned back, as if satisfied by a job well done. The standing woman was hovering over a nearby laser printer as it shuffled out page after page.
“There not after loyalty data on the planetary government. They’re looking for a specific individual.” Gwen deduced. “Let’s find out who.” She raised her blaster. Which one to shoot first? Gwen was pretty certain she could take them both very quickly, so she decided on the easier first shot: the seated Highlander.
She squeezed the trigger and the blaster fired. The PPC bolt blasted through the office chair into the Highlander’s back. He let off a brief cry of pain before the superhot plasma fried his spine and lungs in an instant. He never stood a chance.
Fast as lightning, Gwen turned her weapon on the other and fired again. But she had underestimated the second Highlander’s quickness. This time, the blaster bolt hit empty air. The Highlander had ducked and was now crawling for cover.
“Damn.” Swore Gwen aloud. Gwen stepped out from behind cover to finish her.
Suddenly, Gwen spotted movement in the corner of her eye. Instinctively, she darted back to her cover. Fortunate for her. Bullets ricocheted off the metal computer cabinet as two additional Highlanders appeared near the elevator. Gwen cursed herself for failing to check to see if there were any more besides the two at the terminal.
Gwen popped around and fired her blaster, but these two were too good to let her have an easy shot. The woman used the distraction to snatch up her printed documents and make for the elevator. The two newcomers kept up a steady stream of fire from their submachine guns, keeping Gwen pinned down. They backed into the elevator after the woman and the doors closed.
Gwen moved forward, eyes always on the elevator on the off chance they would come back to finish her off. She moved over to the computer terminal and shoved the corpse out of the chair. On the monitor, she could still see what they had been searching for; the surprise of her attack had prevented them from shutting off the terminal and hiding their tracks.
It was a personnel file for a retired ISF agent. Gwen recognized the name immediately: Keiko Yamada, her old DEST trainer.
“What would O’Malley want with her personnel file?” Gwen mused aloud. He scanned down. The file was thorough, having within it education data, birthplace, family information, as well as her assignments over the years. Gwen paused at the latter and spotted one of the earliest entries.
• Combat Operative – Attached 5th Sword of Light – Northwind Assault – 12/3028 – 3/3029
“Logan said O’Malley was settling scores, but wasn’t for the Conspiracy.” She thought to herself. “It was for himself. Yamada gave the order for the suicide teams on Northwind. She’s the one that killed O’Malley’s wife.”
---
“Your grace!” called Captain Christopher over the comm channel.
“Yes, John.” Replied Baron Ian, scanning about from the cockpit of his Victor.
“Celine has the package. Also rebel forces report the city is mostly secure at this time.”
“Define mostly.” Said Ian warily.
“The militia has either converted or surrendered, but the Dark Rangers remain at large.”
Ian nodded. “Send Lieutenant Ramius’s lance. Destroy their dropship.”
“Roger.”
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