New Belfast
Tamar March, Federated Commonwealth
24 November 3052
Joshua didn’t know to be horrified or infuriated by what he saw when he came home for lunch. Lisa had stripped to the waist and had turned a neural lash on herself. By the time Joshua had reached her, she had already nearly whipped herself unconscious.
The neural lash, like its nastier cousin the neural whip, consisted of a sharp narrow wire of extremely strong flexible conductive metal. That wire was charged from the battery of the whip, making it an effective non-lethal weapon. A blow from its charged lash was extremely painful and could easily stun all but the strongest of humans. It had the drawback, however, of being too painful. Prolonged contact with a wire of a neural weapon could produce permanent nerve damage and horrid scaring of the skin. Lisa had probably done both by the time Joshua had gotten to her.
Her back was blistered and welted from the blows. Although a neural lash could cut the skin like a normal whip, Lisa could not produce the leverage to do so on herself. So her wounds consisted of few gashes and were more burns. Joshua wondered which, if either was more pleasant to endure.
Dr. Jefferson was as shocked as Joshua when he brought her in to the hospital. He was unable to do anything more than give Lisa a painkiller to stop the spasms in her back muscles. He put her in a hospital room for overnight observation, and had her restrained in her bed.
“I’m at a loss, Joshua.” He said, inviting Joshua into his office. “In all the 24 years I’ve treated Lady Lisa, I’d never imagined her doing something even remotely like this. Her mental state is even worse than I had thought.”
“She did attempt suicide one another time. After O’Malley raped her the first time, before the Clans came.”
“You stopped her then, if I remember the report.”
“She said it was nothing more than a momentary lapse. She hasn’t done anything like that since…until now.”
“Well, her physical injuries are not severe. Those lacerations will heal in a few weeks. But this behavior indicates to me that she’s a danger to herself and to her child. She’s gone beyond the normal symptoms of PTSD, her depression, her self-loathing is worsening. Psychotherapy may not be enough.”
“So what do you recommend then?”
“At this point, I don’t know. I’ll have to consult with her other physicians. But I’d keep a very close eye on her, Joshua, for the time being.”
Joshua returned to Lisa’s room to wait. He found her restrained to the bed, face down due to the injuries to her back. His own thoughts and feelings were racing about his head. Once again, he found himself questioning whether keeping the baby was the right thing to do.
Although long a medical option, induced abortion was still a controversial moral decision for many to make even in these times. The Wolverines found it abhorrent; the thought of anything that might hinder their population growth was verboten. Many religious groups felt the same for other reasons. Joshua himself felt that no matter whom the child’s father was, he or she was innocent. Lisa had agreed to that logic, but that was before Joshua found her whipping herself with a neural lash. The twin burdens of pregnancy and of Robert’s rapes were wearing Lisa down.
Lisa’s sudden waking jolted Joshua from his thoughts.
“Why am I here? Why am I tied up?” she demanded angrily.
“The doctor thinks you’re a danger to yourself and to our child.” Said Joshua, moving to her side.
“Our child!” retorted Lisa. “Since when is it your child? Since when have you had anything to do with it?”
“Lisa, be reasonable.” said Joshua, trying to calm her down. “You know the child could be mine as much as Robert’s.” They could have had proof, an answer to that lingering question, but they had decided against a paternity test. Joshua feared that discovering the child really was Robert’s would only make Lisa’s mental and emotional state even worse. Although, at this point, he wondered if that was even possible.
“How bad?” she demanded. “How bad are my injuries?”
“Bad enough that you’ll bear those scars on your back for life.” said Joshua frustrated. “Why did you do that?” he said emphatically.
“Punishment.” was her answer.
“For what?”
“For being a spineless whore.” said Lisa bitterly.
“Now, Lisa, stop that. You are anything but.”
“You know that I am. You saw me at the camp, dressed like a tramp, wearing a gown that everyone could see through.”
“You didn’t choose to wear that, did you? That was Robert’s doing.”
“I did.” said Lisa. “I wanted everyone to look at me. That’s what Robert wanted. He wanted everyone to see how beautiful I am. Well, this is how beautiful I am.” Despite her restraints, she managed to shrug her hospital gown off one shoulder to expose her scarred back.
Joshua took hold of the gown and began to cover her again. “Ashamed of me?” she spat at him. “Don’t want to look at how ugly I am?”
“You will never be ugly to me, Lisa, no matter what happens to your body.”
“Maybe I’ll get fat after the baby. Maybe then you stop desiring me and you’ll leave me the hell alone.” That hurt and Joshua winced.
“Why don’t you want me to desire you, Lisa?”
“I don’t want anyone to desire me. I don’t deserve it after what I’ve done. All I deserve is punishment.”
“Jefferson was worried that you’d hurt our child.”
“My child.” reminded Lisa harshly. “It’s mine to do with as I please.”
“It is a living being, Lisa. You cannot just harm it arbitrarily.”
“It’s a monster. Its father was a monster and so will it be.”
“Stop that. He’s only a monster if we make him so.” Joshua was getting angry.
“You have no say in that matter.”
“Dammit, Lisa, I am your husband and I will have a say in how our child is raised.” said Joshua firmly, trying to keep his anger in check.
But before he could say anything else, Lisa cut in again. There was venom on her tongue and she spat it at Joshua with all the fury she could muster. “He is not yours. That's right. He's mine. You didn't have anything to do with his conception and his real father's dead. So you’ll have nothing to do with his upbringing. And that’s final! Now get out!”
Joshua was stunned and frustrated. He turned to leave, only to discover three of his friends and comrades outside the door. Daisaku Hayakusora, Ryan Smith, and Erik Iolair had gotten word of Lisa’s injuries and had come together to the hospital. How long they’d been there, Joshua did not know. Joshua walked outside and closed the door to her room.
“We didn’t mean to eavesdrop.” said Erik apologetically.
“I should have told you guys earlier.” said Joshua, shaking his head. “I owe the apology.”
“So it is O'Malley's boy?" asked Ryan.
“Lisa seems to think so.” Said Joshua.
“The odds would seem to favor that.” Said Daisaku. “Maybe you should have ended the pregnancy.”
“I second-guess myself every day on that decision.” Said Joshua sadly. “I’ll admit, it’s partly selfish. I don’t know if there’ll be another. That baby might be the only one I ever see.”
“Even if it’s O’Malley’s?”
“The child is not to blame for that. Nor is Lisa, although she seems determined to blame herself.”
“O’Malley is the only guilty party.”
“Not the only one. I am the other.”
“What are you talking about?” asked Erik.
"It wasn't the first time Robert'd forced himself on her. He did it on New Belfast before the Clans came, remember? Lost his temper over her seeing me and decided to show Lisa who the real man in her life was. He went mad at that moment. All he ever wanted to do was to rape her again. He raped and murdered nearly two dozen women on Clan occupied worlds to tide him over until he got her. And then I let her go right to him.”
“And that’s your fault how?”
“I knew!” snapped Joshua in fury, all of it at himself. “I knew it would happen, and I still let her go. I made a gamble, and God, did she ever pay for it.”
“We all remember the briefing, the strategy, the plan.” Said Daisaku. “Lisa herself insisted in going, knowing the very risks you describe. You chose best for the success of the operation.”
“Seems too high a price to pay for one battle won.” snarled Joshua bitterly. “Someone, I don’t remember if it was Richard or Pryde, told me how fruitless my prize was after I defeated Robert. Told me I had the shell, but what was inside was long destroyed.” Joshua paused. “Truer words were never spoken. Lisa’s lost her mind.”
“Surely you don’t believe she’s irrevocably so. Perhaps treatment in a facility would do her a lot of good, quiaff?”
“Neg. I can’t believe having her committed is the answer. She’s convinced I hate her for what she’s done. It would seem to me that to ship her off to a mental hospital is to play into that delusion.”
“So what are your options?”
Joshua shrugged. “We wait and see."
“They might try to medicate it out of her.”
Joshua shook his head. “Not during the pregnancy. The drugs are too strong for the baby.”
“I don’t envy you any of this, Joshua. But we’re here for you. Your brothers.”
Joshua allowed himself a weak smile. “It was her who reminded us of that.”
“And we have not forgotten. We’ve seen what you’ve been doing, the burdens you’ve been carrying. If there’s anything we can do…”
“Thanks, I wish there were. I’ve tried to be patient with her, but I’m almost at wits end.”
“Perhaps some time away would be good?” offered Erik.
“You’re not yourself anymore.” said Ryan. “This is tearing you apart. And, in truth, we need you at your best. No telling when the Clans are going to make another move for New Belfast. Already, Denizli, Parakoila, and Apolakkia have faced Clan attack. Only Twycross, Evcilier, and we here on New Belfast remain unmolested.”
“Well, I’ve got a few days before returning to Twycross and to 3rd battalion.” Said Daisaku. “Any suggestions for some R&R?”
Twycross
Tamar March, Federated Commonwealth
26 November 3052
Cowboy patted the bent and twisted armor of his mech and grimaced. “It’s not going to look any better any time soon.” said Doc flatly.
“I know, I know. I just hope this merc outfit can help us.”
“Who are these guys again?”
“They call themselves the Dark Rangers. Dragoons have them rated as a D unit, not very good, but they’re small and haven’t been around long. Their last operation cost them half their mechs and mechwarriors, but their financial standing is supposed to be strong. So they’re looking for new mechwarriors.’
“And you’ve decided to sign on.”
“I’ve not decided yet. I’ve scheduled a meeting with their leader today. I’d like you to come along.”
“I’m still just a tech, Johvac.” said Doc bitterly. “No one’s going to just buy me a mech so I can learn, especially not some lance-sized merc unit.”
“You can shoot straight and you’re the best damn tech I know.”
“I’m the only tech you know.”
“At present, yes. But not always. Doc, you’ve got a gift with these machines. If that isn’t an asset to a merc group, then I’m just stupid. Most merc units are dying to get their machines fixed properly, particularly in this post-Clan era where the amount of damage a mech sees in combat is dramatically increased.”
“So you think they’ll want me too?”
“Sure. Come on, Doc. What can hurt?”
“Alright. When’s the meeting?”
---
Several hours later, Doc and Cowboy made their way over to a set of mech hangers on the opposite end of Camora spaceport from their own berths.
Parked outside the hangers was a sleek dropship of a design neither Cowboy or Doc recognized. It looked Clan, and probably was. Painted on one flank was the symbol of a man in stylized plate mail, black, with flames about his feet.
“This must be the place.”
Inside the cockpit of the dropship, the men could see the pilot performing maintenance. Unable to communicate verbally through several inches of armored glass, the pilot simply motioned back to the hangers. Cowboy nodded and walked inside.
Two rather beat-up mechs greeted them. One was the gaunt-looking Wolfhound design in use by the Federated Commonwealth, an impressive possession, given few mercs owned such a new machine. Likewise, the Crab was also an uncommon possession among mercs, being an old Star League design and long out of use. Not too unlike Cowboy’s Highlander, mused Doc to himself.
At the foot of the Crab walked out a man in his early thirties, wiping grease off of his hands. He had curly brown hair and ice-blue eyes. He was muttering something to himself, and Cowboy picked up on the accent. The man was probably from Rasalhague.
"I'm looking for a Mr. Logan?" said Cowboy.
"You came to the right place.” said Karl, looking up from his dirty hands. “My name's Rohan. Come with me."
"I heard you guys were looking for mechwarriors."
"Yeah, Logan's trying to replenish our numbers. We lost two men on our last job."
"Who was your employer?"
"We did an extraction in Kurita space to get this courier off Chandler and back here to the Commonwealth. ISF made us regret taking the job."
“Ouch! Hope it paid well.”
“It did.” said Rohan with a sound of relief on his voice. “Enough to consider trying to buy some Star League tech for our machines.’
“So where are you from originally, if I may ask? You don't sound like a Tamarian."
"I'm not. I was born on Radje in 3020. That was back when it was a Drac world. My father was killed during the Ronin Wars, trying to keep the system from being turned over to the new Free Rasalhague Republic. Like him, I joined the DCMS. Then came the Clans and I was out of a job. So I hooked up with the Rangers."
"I see. And Logan?"
"Rasalhaguer, former Kell Hound recruit. Young fellow, but don't underestimate him. He and our dropship captain were trapped behind Clan lines in the Periphery. They managed to escape and get back here. He's got an inborn talent like you wouldn't believe. The guy’s almost unstoppable on the battlefield."
"Hark, I sense I am being talked about." said the young man who stepped off the jet black Wolfhound.
"Nice mech, kid. Where'd you get it?"
"Bluffed on a pair of duces. And don't call me 'kid.'"
"Sorry. My name's Johvac Bolovinsky, but everyone calls me Cowboy."
Logan looked up and down Cowboy’s duster, pausing to stare at the twin revolvers on his belt. "I can see why. What can I do for you, Cowboy?"
"Heard you were looking for some mechwarriors."
"So you want to join the Dark Rangers, huh? What's your record?"
"Clan war veteran. Just recently managed to get my ass off of Devin. I was with the 9th Deneb Light Cav."
"Heard about that. You were one of the Op:Counterstrike units to get nailed by the Falcon’s regrouping. You’ve been trapped on Denizli all this time?”
“Since the Falcons attacked in September, yep. Just managed to smuggle my tech and myself off-world last month.”
“With mech or Dispossessed?”
"No, I've still got my mech. It's in shit condition after Denizli and I don't have the money to fix it up. It's a Highlander."
"I don't guess you're packing Star League tech on it."
"No, it's a retrofit HGN-733. It’s a family heirloom. Centuries of use has destroyed all of its Star League era weapons."
Rohan pointed up to his Crab. “Before Turtle Bay, that was a Star League quality machine. What it took centuries on your machine, took about 15 minutes on mine.”
“You were on Turtle Bay?”
“Hai! I escaped with Hohito Kurita’s group after they nuked Edo.”
“So you’ve all seen Clan action?”
“A bellyful of it.” said Logan. “As have you, I’m sure.”
Cowboy nodded.
“How good’s your tech?”
“Top-notch. He’d have my mech working by now, if we had the parts.”
"Well, Cowboy, we'll see what we can do about getting it fixed up a bit. I got an offer from TharHes Industries. Apparently they need a few mech pilots who can fight on foot. You and your tech can join us on the mission if you want."
"What's the lowdown?"
"TharHes lost contact with one of its orbital labs here on Twycross. They say they've got a couple of captured Clan mechs up there and think that some competitor wants to relieve them of that tech."
"Seems pretty straight forward. What about the real business?" Cowboy made the two finger gesture to indicate money.
"You show tomorrow at the spaceport and I'll give you a fair cut up front. Expect the same after the mission. Sound fair?"
"I guess. When do I meet you?"
"9:00am. Gate J-15, the dropshuttle Nefarious."
"See you then."
Mountainside Ski Resort
New Belfast
Tamar March, Federated Commonwealth
27 November 3052
Having entrusted Lisa to her family after she was released from the hospital, Joshua let himself be persuaded to join his fellow officers on a ski trip over the weekend. Now as the sun set on their first full day on the slopes, Joshua kicked back in the ski lodge’s main lobby a cup of steaming hot cocoa.
“So enjoying your holiday thus far?” asked Daisaku, joining him.
“It is helping.” Answered Joshua, taking a sip. He rolled his shoulder gingerly. “Although, bringing me here six months after a major shoulder injury might not have been wise.”
“O’Malley’s cut?”
“Yeah.”
“It didn’t seem to bother you on the slopes.”
“No, but it hurts now. Guess it was the strain.”
“You’ll live. You’re tougher than that.”
“You know, that hot tub is looking pretty good.”
“I would tend to agree.” Said Daisaku. “Let’s get our swimsuits and I’ll meet you out there.”
---
Joshua made it back to the hot tub first. In the bitter cold of the high New Belfast mountains, Joshua decided he did not want to remain outside the warm water to wait for his friend, so he got in and slid under the steaming waters.
“Mind if I join you?” said a voice.
Joshua glanced up to see a young blonde woman, wrapped in a towel. “Not at all.” He answered. “There’s plenty of room.”
The woman let the towel drop to the floor, revealing a string bikini beneath. Joshua’s eyes darted up and down as she got into the water, an action that did not go unnoticed. She smiled.
“My name is Elise.” She introduced herself.
“Joshua.” He replied.
“I take it you are a soldier.” She commented.
“What makes you think that?”
She reached over and ran her finger along the scar across Joshua’s left shoulder. “Battle wounds.” She said. Joshua was surprised at her boldness. “Are you with the Star Swords?” she asked.
“Yeah. And you?”
“Dropship pilot. I run a transport out of here for the DeTerre Collective.”
“You’re not like most of the dropship pilots I know.”
“How so?” she asked demurely.
“You’re a…bit easier on the eyes for one.”
“Noticed that, did you?” She smiled. “Well, girls got to do what a girls got to do. Spending weeks cooped up aboard a smelly transport does wonders to your complexion.” She said sardonically. “and your social life.”
“You know what they used to say about wet navy sailors?” said Joshua boldly. “Back when it was all men, they said every sailor had a girl in every port. I can’t imagine that with the advent of space travel that much has changed.”
“What? You think I have a girl in every port?” she said with a laugh.
“That wasn’t exactly what I was getting at.” Chuckled Joshua embarrassed.
“I didn’t figure you were accusing me of lesbianism.” said Elise.
“Well, my real point is that I’d imagine most folks in your line of work find ways to create a social life.” He paused. “Same as mine.”
“Well then, what is a soldier and a transport pilot, both on furlough, going to do with themselves to drive back a bit of the loneliness their careers force upon them?” She leaned over closer to Joshua to make her point perfectly clear.
Joshua brought his left hand up above the bubbling waters to bring his wedding band into clear view. Elise leaned back. “Ah, I see.” Her tone grew cold. “I hope you enjoy your time here, Joshua. It’s a good place, cozy, great slopes. I might see you around.” She pulled herself out of the water, gathered up her towel, and departed.
“I can’t believe you just did that.” Said Daisaku’s voice.
Joshua turned as his friend walked over and dropped into the water. “What do you mean?”
“You’re not so ignorant as to not know a seduction attempt when you see one. You were even playing along until the very end.”
“You were watching?”
“Saw the whole thing. What the hell were you thinking?”
“I’m a married man.”
“Married to what, Josh? There’s hardly anything of Lisa left. I commend you for your loyalty. And God, it tears me up to see her like that too, but at some point you’re going to have to come to terms with reality.” Daisaku let out his breath. “You’re only human, Joshua. You’re flesh-and-blood. You’ve got needs and Lisa can’t be there for them. Not when she’s like this.”
“Is that why you guys brought me here? In hopes that I would have a one-night-stand with some stranger?”
“Honestly, no. But I can’t see how it would hurt.” Daisaku looked Joshua in the eyes. “And be honest with yourself. I saw the way you looked at that woman. The temptation was there. You were that close to going through with it.”
Joshua looked away and said nothing for a moment. After a while, he began to speak. “It would destroy her, Daisaku. You’re right. There’s very little of the woman I married left in Lisa. But if I betray her, then it will be the end of what remains.”
MacLeod City Spaceport
New Belfast
Tamar March, Federated Commonwealth
8 December 3052
Erik Iolair glared out at the tarmac and looked at all the dropships arriving. He shook his head. His girlfriend, Michelle Harrington, merely grinned.
"Things certainly have begun picking up around here since Joshua instituted that Mercenary Training Program." said Michelle.
"Yeah, Victor's wonderful orders. He keeps Fourth Battalion off on Evcilier, but to replace them, he gives us a bunch of half-functional green merc units, all eager to cut their teeth on the most vicious enemy in the Inner Sphere."
“Joshua sure seems enthusiastic about it.” Commented Michelle.
“Well, he’s got reason to be. It’s not like his home life is all roses and sunshine at the moment. Enthusiasm or no, I’d still rather have 4th back with us instead of these mercs that Joshua’s adopted. The Clans haven’t exactly have kept quiet since the Tukayyid Truce. We're behind the Truce Line, as were Denizli, Parakoila, and Apolakkia. They’re all in Clan hands again."
“We’re next.”
“Pryde’s bound to be smarting after the whipping we gave him. Never mind the fact that the Vipers and the Wolves might also give us trouble.”
"Me thinks you doth worry too much." said Michelle with a grin. She kissed Erik on the cheek. "I have some things to do. I'll see you later."
Erik watched her leave. His gaze shifted from her to another female walking across the tarmac towards the mech bays. Much to his surprise, he saw Lisa, heading to check out her mech. Although she had resigned her commission due to her mental state, Lisa had retained possession of Gil-Galad, her old Phoenix Hawk. As a favor to Joshua, the Clan techs had been updating it with Clan and advanced Inner Sphere technology. She checked on their progress periodically.
Erik chased after her, hoping to chat with her for a little while.
“Hey!” He called. Lisa stopped in her tracks and turned.
“Oh, hi, Erik.”
“Come to inspect your mech? I hear they’ve almost finished with it.”
“Mostly. In truth, it was just an excuse to get out and about a bit. I’m tired of being cooped up all the time, with people always watching me.”
“Well,” said Erik hesitantly, “we’ve seen what you do when you’re left alone.”
“Another moment of weakness, nothing more.”
“I hope so. You may be Joshua’s wife, but you are friend to all of us. We worry about you.”
“I know. I just wish you wouldn’t be so smothering. I’ll get through all this. Somehow.” Lisa pouted as she finished. “I honestly think part of what I need is a bit of freedom. I told my psychiatrist that, but he’s not certain yet.”
“You wouldn’t be saying this to me unless you had something up your sleeve.”
“Am I that transparent?” laughed Lisa. It was good to hear her laugh, Erik thought. “I was just thinking that taking my mech out periodically was helpful after Robert’s first assault on me. Maybe that’s the kind of therapy I really need. Take Gil-Galad out onto the test course, vaporize a few targets, remind myself that I’m a soldier, a mechwarrior, not this fragile broken little thing that my darker thoughts keep telling me I am.”
“Well, I’m no doctor, but that sounds reasonable to me. I see what I can do about setting up some time for you.”
Tharkad-Hesperus Industries
Twycross
Tamar March, Federated Commonwealth
10 December 3052
"Good morning, Mr. Logan. How are you feeling today?"
"A little better than yesterday, Mr. Ericson. Why did you call us in here?"
"It seems we have some things to discuss before your stay with us is over. Please take a seat."
Logan and the other Dark Rangers sat down. Cowboy and Doc both looked a little uncomfortable in their new Rangers uniforms, probably because the cloth was still stiff and unwashed.
"So what's up?"
"We at TharHes Industries have become somewhat concerned about the condition of mercenary units being sent behind the Clan lines. The Federated Commonwealth is busy upgrading their own regimental size units with Star League technology, while neglecting the one type of unit they seem to be using most often."
"Cut to the point, Mr. Ericson."
"To put it simply, the raider is the most valuable unit in the Clan war effort, especially post-Tukayyid, and they are getting the least amount of attention. So, in reward for your faithful service, TharHes has decided to sponsor you in the Raider Training Program on New Belfast. We have outfitted your mechs with updated technology and now you will receive training under the Star Swords. Your longevity on anti-Clan expeditions will increase dramatically."
"So what's in it for you?"
"Oh, just a small cut of what you receive on your raids.... for our research and development division. We need Clan tech to research."
"I see. When do we enter this Training School?"
"Immediately. Your dropship is scheduled to leave by dusk tonight. That is all."
Castle MacLeod
New Belfast
Tamar March, Federated Commonwealth
22 December 3052
"So there's a new batch of mercs coming in on the next dropship?" said Daisaku.
“This is an interesting bunch." said Joshua, holding up a file to read. "Probably the best group yet. All Clan war veterans. Two of them were with the Kell Hounds on The Rock and managed to slip out. Two others were part of the 9th Deneb when they got destroyed in Operation: Counterstrike, and the last guy escaped Turtle Bay with Prince Kurita.”
“Impressive. Enough stories there for more than one holovid-movie.”
“They call themselves the Dark Rangers. They're led by some hot shot kid with more balls than brains. Calls himself Logan. He’s one of the former Kell Hounds. I contacted the Hounds about him. They say he’s arrogant and a little immature, but a good fighter."
"More balls than brains. I seem to recall we were once called that."
Joshua smiled. "I know. I remember. Tell me though, Daisaku. Are we so arrogant to assume that we're the only group of people our age this talented? God forbid we become like all those who were so convinced the Star Swords were the worst thing to happen to the AFFC."
“Like Michelle’s father?”
“Yeah, like him.”
"Well, knowing you, you'll take a liking to the guy. Reckless. Foolish. Yeah, he’s like you.” Daisaku looked over the file himself. "Most of the mercs who have signed on to the school are pretty hard up. Small units without a lot of experience, money, or sense. These Dark Rangers are different. Battle hardened and well sponsored. They're Thar-Hes's babies, with all the perks mega-corporate sponsorship brings. According to MRBC, they also brought out a defecting ISF courier from the Combine back in October.”
“I saw that. Between the two jobs, they’ve gained quite a nest egg. Most of their mechs have been upgraded to Star League technology. Logan even bought a new one under-the-table from Irian Weapon Works."
“He bought a machine from a competitor and Thar-Hes condoned it?"
"I guess so. Logan purchased a brand new Star League technology Awesome from IWW. Not a single complaint from Thar-Hes, at least none that’s been logged in the official record."
“Why the special treatment I wonder?"
Joshua shrugged. “Who knows and who cares? This is the best prospect we’ve seen so far for the Mercenary School. I look forward to meeting them. Their dropship should be arriving shortly."
By the time, Joshua and Daisaku arrived, the Dark Rangers had already touched down and were in the process of unloading their gear.
The pair walked over to the base of the Lone Wolf class dropship. Daisaku whistled to Joshua when he saw it.
“That’s an old Lone Wolf. I wonder where they got it.”
“Probably stolen by one of the groups from their time behind Clan lines. Given it’s a military transport, I figure the Clans haven’t done much in the way of innovation since the Snow Raven clan developed that thing during the years in the cluster. It looks new.”
“Safe guess.”
“Now where's Logan?"
A loud commotion suddenly came out of a nearby aerospace fighter hanger. Joshua and Daisaku shrugged and headed over.
"You keep your hands to yourself, pal." said an indignant Erik. Iolair's hand was firmly gripping his sword, still within its scabbard, but Joshua doubted it would stay there much longer.
The other players in the scene were in their respective positions. An angry Michelle was leaning on her fighter. The third player was a short young man in a black trench coat. He was being restrained by two other men, one a brown haired man in a make-shift uniform that included pieces of DCMS field gear, the other was wearing a G-suit, indicating either an aerospace pilot or dropship crewman.
“Karl Rohan, Logan, and Captain Jael Mangalore.” Said Daisaku, reading from the Ranger’s dossier.
Logan spoke, fighting against the comrades who held him at bay. "Give it up, flyboy. Why don't you let me show the little lady a good time?"
"Looks like trouble." said Joshua, stating the obvious.
"And you were saying we were arrogant." said Daisaku, in reference to Logan.
Erik reached back and drew his sword. Logan leaned back, his face lost its mocking grin and grew deadly serious. "You know how to use that pig-sticker, flyboy? Or are you just trying to impress me?"
At the drawing of a weapon, Rohan and Solo backed off, afraid of getting hurt themselves in the scuffle. Joshua reached for Anduril himself and began a rapid march towards the two men.
Erik lunged at Logan. Logan reached under his coat and drew out his flamer pistol. At sight of the gun, Joshua leaped into action. Out came Anduril, faster than anyone could see. Joshua brought his sword down on Logan's gun, knocking it to the floor. With a flick of the wrist, he brought the blade up and knocked Erik's strike aside.
The loud double clang of metal on metal echoed through the hanger. Erik pulled back and kept an "en guarde" position a few feet from Logan.
“As you were.” Joshua snarled the order. Erik returned his sword to its scabbard.
“I can explain, sir.” said Erik, who only used proper military address when he knew he was in trouble.
“I don’t care.” said Joshua flatly. “I expect all my charges to behave with a certain level of professionalism.” Joshua glared at Logan balefully. “That includes the mercenaries under my authority.”
"Joy, another pig-sticker. Am I supposed to be scared?"
“Would you like it, Mr. Thorpe, if I shipped you back to TharHes and let you explain why I refused you entrance into the school? You will control yourself and treat my soldiers with respect or I will do just that.”
"How was I supposed to know she was his? I've only been on-world for half 'an hour." said Logan, trying to explain.
“Is it your usual behavior to grope the first woman you encounter on a new planet?” snarled Erik.
“Well, actually.....”
Michelle stepped forward. "Feel me up again and I'll cut your manhood off myself, you little bastard."
"That’s enough!" said Joshua, his patience at an end. "From all of you.” He turned back to Logan. “For the sake of amity between your unit and mine, Mr. Logan, I'm going to forget that this happened. I expect the rest of you to act accordingly. I expect to see you and your unit in my office at 1600 hours."
"Understood." Logan gave a salute, which Joshua half suspected was in mockery. He ignored it and turned away.
Next chapter
Friday, September 19, 2014
Thursday, September 11, 2014
Chapter Two - Rangers in the Dark
Porrima
Skye March, Federated Commonwealth
7 October 3052
The noble paced the floor again, his face shining with delight. "The little bastard.....What little does he realize what he has given me?"
“You grace, we have gained valuable information concerning several of the Federated Commonwealth’s mercenary units. Many of them bear personal enmity towards the Draconis Combine and are interested in any operation you would sponsor against the Combine.”
“How interested?” The noble spun and glared at the man in the Lyran Intelligence Corps uniform. A weaker man would have withered under the noble's glare, but the LIC agent stood firm.
“They are mercenaries, mi’lord. One can only guess that money is their greatest objective.”
“How many regiments under arms will support an attack in your assessment?”
“Six Battlemech regiments. Plus about two dozen other conventional regiments.”
“Too few to hold off a concentrated attack from Prince Victor if he discovers us.”
“Our sponsor is willing to provide us with the supplies to forge a seventh regiment.”
“I know and I can get the pilots for those mechs easily enough.” The noble paced the floor. “Still, brute force will not win us the day. Our objective is two-fold.” He paused to collect his thoughts. “One, force Victor into a war with the Combine. If my guess is correct, he’ll try to fight that war with Lyran units. When he does, I will raise public opinion against him and force the Lyran Commonwealth succession.”
“But his mother?”
“Will not be a problem.” said the noble confidently. “Contact the mercenary regiments and learn what their intentions are. If we can use them to jump start this war, then so be it. I will pay them gladly for that role.”
New Belfast
Tamar March, Federated Commonwealth
1 November 3052
Hauptmann General Joshua Messer looked out from the tallest tower of Castle MacLeod. To the east was the vast waters of the Dividing Sea. To his west, the fertile green plains of his adopted homeworld stretched out for miles. Joshua stretched and let the early morning air fill his lungs. Most visitors to New Belfast would have gotten nauseous on the CO2 rich air, but Joshua was no longer a mere visitor.
"Spying on your wife, Joshua?"
Joshua turned to see his sister-in-law, Marian MacLeod. Shorter and younger than Lisa, Marian was in some ways prettier, with flame red hair and deep green eyes.
"Not really. I haven't seen her yet."
"She just came over the hill behind you."
Joshua turned and glanced southward. The plains here were slightly more rugged; rugged being a relative term. A series of rolling hills separated the castle from a large expanse of woods. Lisa was riding her horse over the top of one of those hills, her destination was the castle stable, some 100 meters from the castle.
"My, she's getting big, isn't she?" commented Marian. Marian was, of course, referring to the fact that Lisa was pregnant.
"Yes, she is." said Joshua flatly.
“You know, it took you two long enough. You were married on Skye during the peace. Your first kid is on the way only now?” said Marian with a playful grin. She loved ribbing her sister about Lisa's sex life, both before and after Lisa had married Joshua.
“Wartime isn’t exactly conducive to a healthy pregnancy.” Retorted Joshua. Even still, Lisa’s pregnancy was not a planned event. There was a question as to who the father was. Joshua was, of course, one option. But the other was far more sinister, as Lisa had been captured and repeatedly raped by Robert O’Malley when the Star Swords attacked New Belfast back in April.
Regardless of the child’s true parentage, the rapes had left their mark. Long months of counseling and therapy had given Lisa back some of her old self, but not all. Physical intimacy was out of the question, she not abide even Joshua’s touch. Their lack of affection for one another was troublesome, but Joshua was willing to be patient.
But how long would his patience last? That even he didn’t know.
Chandler
Benjamin Military District, Draconis Combine
2 November 3052
“Why all the way out there?” asked Captain Jael Mangalore. “Hagia is half-way across the continent.”
Logan Thorpe, commander of the mercenary lance The Dark Rangers, looked intently at his dropship captain. “We’ve gotten an offer. Some smuggler’s being hunted by Drac authorities. He’s willing to pay big for us to get him off-world.”
“What’s he carrying?”
“Carrying?”
“He’s a smuggler and the Dracs want him. I’ll bet The Fury, they’re after whatever he’s smuggling.”
“Don’t concern yourself with that. You just make sure we’ve got a jumpship willing to take us out of here if things get ugly.”
“No problem.” said Jael. “You just make sure we get paid for this.”
“Not a problem. I’ll take him to the cleaners.”
The Dark Rangers had been formed during the Clan War by several survivors of Clan attacks. Logan was the son of a wealthy Rasalhague industrialist who ran away from his overbearing parents to join the Kell Hounds. On a mission into the Periphery less than six months after he joined, he found himself staring down a Wolf Clan cluster. He was taken prisoner, along with Mangalore. Jael had been injured during the fighting, badly enough to keep him from ever piloting a mech again. He’d been the son of one of the Kell Hound’s dropship pilots, so he knew how to fly the elaborate spacecraft. That had saved them both, allowing them to escape the Clans by stealing a small transport dropship. They had since refit the craft with the pay from their first few jobs.
Joining the unit after their return to the Inner Sphere was Chu-i Karl Rohan, formerly of the DCMS, and two of his men, Jacobs and Miruki. That brought them up to a single lance of mechs, large enough to get descent jobs from local nobles. They’d gone on two major raids since their creation, both into Ghost Bear Clan space. Neither had netted them much salvage, in fact, they fought only a single Clan mech during those two missions. But they were paid well. Well enough to upgrade their stolen Lone Wolf class dropship, named The Fury. Their four mechs, a WLF-1 Wolfhound, a WFT-1 Wolf Trap, a PNT-9R Panther, and a CRB-20 Crab, were all in pristine condition.
Thus, despite their small size, the unit was in good shape. Most mercenary units could not boast the Dark Rangers success level, particularly after only two years of operation. Things were going well, but their last job had let them down. They’d come to Chandler with hopes of a third raid on the Ghost Bears when a family squabble killed their employer. Without the job they’d come looking for, Logan had hoped to salvage the costly trip out there by picking up an odd job among one of the planetary nobles. That’s how he came across this desperate smuggler.
Hagia was several hundred kilometers away. The smuggler was hiding out there in fear of contact with the ISF, the Kurita secret police. Logan, young and somewhat naive, knew of the ISF, but did not understand the fear they invoked in the people of the Draconis Combine. Despite the warnings of his three ex-Kurita comrades, he had taken the job.
The Fury was not designed for combat drops, nor could it easily unload its compliment of Battlemechs. Logan was waiting about impatiently as Rohan and the others off-loaded their machines so they could march them the distance to Hagia.
“You know where to find this guy?”
“We have an arranged meeting place and time.” Logan checked his watch. “It’s about 12 hours away, but I want to make sure we get there on time.”
“Rohan’s almost done with his Crab. He’s the last.”
“We’ll be back by this time tomorrow. You be ready to lift off.”
“If the ISF is on your ass, you’re damn right I’ll be ready to lift off.” Jael waved him off as Logan headed to mount up his Wolfhound, Nightshade.
Hagia
Chandler
Benjamin Military District, Draconis Combine
2 November 3052
Akeem Ali Akbar checked under his jacket one more time to make sure his pistol was there. As was the case when he’d checked the other four times, it was smugly held between his pants and his sizable belly. He looked back over his shoulder repeatedly, but saw no one.
Hagia had been the target of an attack during the Ronin Wars some 15 years before. The northern half of the city was devastated by the battle and remained in ruins to this day. It was a dangerous area, filled with criminal gangs and various others who wished to live outside the law. Even the ISF did not go there. Akeem had been hiding there safely for over three months. Now, to escape, he had to venture southward into what was known as the Borderlands, the area of the city lining the ruins.
The Borderlands neighborhoods were only slightly better than the ruins themselves. Also badly damaged in the battle, the poor and destitute lived here. Police rarely came here, fearing raids from the gangs of the ruins, so crime was rampant. Prostitution, drugs, guns, and all sorts of vices could be found here. It was to such a place where one could find all of the above that Akbar was going.
The bar was a dive at best. Akeem walked in to be blasted by the smell of body odor, cigarette smoke, and various other odors too disgusting to mention. Through the smoke, he made his way to a dark back table where sat four reasonably well-dressed men. The clientele looked suspiciously at them, revealing their outsider nature. Akeem knew they were too polished to be anything but the mechwarriors he’d contracted to protect him.
“Are you Logan?” asked Akeem.
“That would be me.” said Logan, looking up at Akeem. “You Akbar?”
“Yes.” said the Arab man nervously. “You have agreed to my terms?”
“Not entirely.” said Rohan. “You’re trying to avoid the ISF. That’s a big risk for us. We want double your current offer.”
“Double? Are you mad?”
The door opened and four people clan in black jumpsuits entered. Wearing faceplates to hide their identity, they bore laser rifles and vibrokatanas as weapons.
“Want to rethink that?” said Rohan, reaching for his sidearm. “Those are DEST soldiers.”
The sight of the four soldiers did just that for Akbar. “You have a deal, Logan. Double my last offer. Now get me out of here.” he whispered hurriedly.
“The back!” said Logan. “Quickly.” The five men stood up, immediately drawing attention to themselves. Logan drew his laser pistol and fired as the DEST men turned. The crimson beam tagged the closest soldier, searing through his armor and burning a nasty wound into his left arm. He cried out and fell over. Panic ensued as the crowd in the bar jumped to their feet, desperate to find cover from the coming gun battle.
“So much for quiet.” said Rohan, drawing his own gun, a Mydron machine pistol. He squeezed the trigger, firing at the ISF soldiers, but instead tagging an innocent bystander who walked into the path of bullets.
“Damn!” swore Karl, angry at killing a bystander. He pushed Akbar down and began to follow Logan towards the back door.
As Logan cleared the door, the butt of a laser rifle smashed him in the face. He reeled and fell to the earth. An ugly disfigured man stood over him haughtily. “You mercenary scum!” Rohan drew a bead on the man, but then noticed the five other laser rifles pointing right at him.
“I would not recommend that, Chu-i Rohan.” said a voice, a familiar voice.
“Yuri?” said Karl, lowering his pistol and surrendering.
“Hai. I feared you might go mercenary after our failure on Turtle Bay. I knew that it would one day force us against one another.”
“And that day has come it seems.”
----
Yuri and her disfigured subordinate led the mercenaries and Akbar out into the street in front of the bar. Rohan looked about and saw a lance of ISF mechs patrolling nearby: A Crab, a Panther, a Locust, and a machine Rohan did not recognize. Also on the street were probably two dozen DEST soldiers in their jet black uniforms.
“Did you find the documents?” asked the pilot of the unknown mech to Yuri.
“Negative. Akbar does not have them.”
“Kuso.” swore the pilot, a woman.
“Now what?” asked Rohan of the groggy Logan.
“Beats me.” Logan leaned up next to Akbar. “I want triple now.”
“You’re getting nothing if you don’t get me out of here.”
Suddenly, a limousine pulled up and parked at the feet of the unknown mech. Several men in black suits stepped out and walked towards Yuri.
“Tai-sa Noriko, I am Kobun Walter Nirotaki of the Ryu-gin-ka clan. I am here to take charge of your prisoners by the authority of the Gunji No Kanrei.”
That was Theodore Kurita’s official title, the heir-apparent of the Draconis Combine and commander of the DCMS. Before the War of 3039 with the Federated Commonwealth, he had recruited the Yakuza crime families to assist him against the Fed Com invasion. That had led to Kanrei Kurita using the Yakuza as his own personal operatives.
“I do not recognize your authority here, Kobun. I serve the Dragon. You are a common criminal.”
“I too serve the Dragon, Tai-sa, and I am authorized to take these prisoners by force if need be. But there is no need for two servants of the Dragon to fight each other when a peaceful and honorable agreement can be found.”
Yuri did not like the veiled threat. She looked towards the unknown mech. “Tai-sa, I confirm the presence of a company of unknown mechs closing on us from within the ruins.”
“The 10th Ghost regiment, if you are curious. We have been ordered here by the Kanrei. The 17th Galedon will also support our claim to these prisoners if you resist.”
“Then you shall have them, Kobun.” said Yuri disgustedly.
“I knew you would see things in a reasonable light.” Nirotaki motioned for his soldiers to take charge of Logan and his group. The mercenaries were forced back towards the limousine by only slightly more gentle means than the ISF had manhandled them.
“Popular, aren’t you?” said Jacobs at Akbar.
“Who the hell did you piss off anyway?” asked Logan.
As the limousine sped off, Yuri snapped her fingers. “Stop them. Director Indrahar’s prize must not escape with the Yakuza.”
“But the DCMS?” responded the disfigured one.
“Make it look accidental.” said Yuri sharply.
“Hai”
----
The limousine drove over to the airport at the northwestern edge of town. This facility had been the target of the ronin mechs that had destroyed the northern portion of the city. Thus, it lay with the Borderlands to its southeast and the ruins on all other sides. It was an armored fortress of a facility. The 17th Galedon Regulars maintained a small garrison of mechs here to keep adventuresome gangs under control. It was also where mercenaries under hire of the planets nobility stored their mechs. The Dark Ranger mechs were here.
During the trip over to the airport, Logan had managed to work his bonds loose. A teenage life running with the gangs on Rasalhague had given the young merc leader more than one trick up his sleeve.
As the limo crossed onto the tarmac, there was a flash of light and the front quarter of the car exploded. Logan and the others were thrown forward out of their seats as the limo came to a screeching halt. The two Ghost regiment mechs that had been waiting suddenly came under fire as well.
“It’s the ISF.” rattled off a Yakuza soldier in Japanese.
True enough, a lance of DEST mechs emerged from behind the hangers. Logan recognized two of the machines from the lance back at the bar, the other two were captured Clan Omnimechs, a Ryoken and a Vulture.
The Ghost machines, a Warhammer and a Quickdraw, knew they were outmatched. They began to pull back, leaving their demolished limousine to its fate. But the ISF was not about to let them go.
“Let’s get out of here.” said Logan.
“What’s going on?” asked Akbar.
“The ISF want you back, and they’re willing to kill the Yaks to do it. These men are dead. Let’s make sure we don’t end up that way.”
The four Dark Rangers and their charge crawled out of the smashed car, followed by two Yakuza guards. Those guards seemed little concerned with mercs thankfully, and turned their attentions on escaping with their lives. One DEST mech, the unknown machine from the Borderlands bar, was moving after them. It had been the one to fire on them and now was bent on finishing off the Yakuza soldiers.
Pulse lasers laced up the tarmac, roasting the two soldiers alive as they ran. Logan and his men kept running, heading for the fence at the far side of the tarmac that led into the ruins. The mystery mech gave chase, moving much faster than the men on foot.
Jacobs turned around and fired on it with a stolen submachine gun. It was a futile effort, and only drew attention to him. The mech’s arm mounted pulse laser flashed and Jacobs went up in a flash of flame.
“Damn, lost Jacobs.” swore Rohan. The fence was only 20 meters away, but the mech was almost on top of them.
“Wait a second!” said Logan, suddenly turning around. Unable to brake quickly enough, the mech kept going over Logan’s head. Rohan took the hint and jerked about, dragging Akbar with him. Miruki tried to do the same, but was struck by the mech’s leg as it tried to stop itself. While he wasn’t stepped on, the blow was enough to knock him out cold, probably kill him.
Logan wove around the machine’s left leg as it tried to back up. He made a dash for the fence, with Rohan close behind. Logan suddenly yanked back, as pulse lasers flashed over his head. The ruse had worked. The lasers boiled through the chain links, giving the mercs a way out. Logan picked up his speed and was through the fence before the lasers could recycle. Rohan was close behind and Akbar with him.
Logan kept running. The mech stepped over the fence and continued its pursuit, but the crowded streets of the ruins prevented it from moving very quickly. Logan led his companions around a corner and he stopped.
Rohan gasped for breath. “I can’t run anymore. Breathed too much ozone from that near miss.” He coughed. “Let’s stay here and pray it doesn’t have a Beagle probe.”
“Allah be merciful.” prayed Akbar. “A Raptor does, in some configs.”
“A what?”
“A Raptor. It’s a prototype Omnimech. Only the ISF and the Dragon’s Claws use it.”
“You worked for the ISF, didn’t you?”
“Hai. I was a courier for them.”
“What’s this all about, Akbar? You owe us that much now.”
“It’s about betrayal, Logan. My mission was to relay orders to the Ryuken regiments on Wolcott, both for the Kanrei and the ISF. The ISF is stockpiling arms, the Ryuken were getting Clan technology from their raids. Some of that was going to the ISF, and I was the middleman on that operation.”
“Why stockpiling? What are they up to?”
“Apparently, they’re acquiring arms from all across the Combine. Old Succession War mechs, Star League weapons, and stolen Clan technology, all of it being stockpiled on Al Na’ir. It wasn’t until I disobeyed orders and broke the seal on the ISF’s orders to the Ryuken that I discovered why. I have a way of doing it without it being detected. One of the tricks on my trade.”
“And that is? Why are they?” said Logan, annoyed.
“They’re creating an army of their own and they’re going to launch a war against the Federated Commonwealth.”
“The new Alliance? They’re trying to stop it.” said Rohan.
Akbar nodded. The Raptor walked past, shaking the earth and stopping hearts for a moment, but then moved on.
“Does the Kanrei know?”
“Doubtful. I suspect his intervention here is to discover why I fled my duty. Being taken by the Yakuza would have not been an unpleasant fate, save perhaps the seppuku the Dragon would have asked of me. But I knew the ISF would not allow them to take me, no matter what forces stood against them. They would rig something up to silence me before any Kurita ever heard my story.”
“Takashi-sama would trust the ISF and not believe you.” said Rohan. “The Kanrei might believe your story, but you would need proof.”
“I will need proof regardless, if I am to prove my story to the LIC.”
“The Lyran’s?”
“They are here on Chandler and like their opponents in the ISF have been unable to locate me. But I know where they are. Get me to them, and between them and I, you will be paid all that you ask.”
“I not so concerned about the money now.” said Logan bitterly. “It helps to be alive to spend it.”
“Well, let us make sure that Raptor does not come around for another pass and then I will lead you to my hiding place. There, we will get my proof and then you can take me back to Chandler City. I know where to find an LIC operative there.”
Denizli
Jade Falcon Occupation Zone
3 November 3052
Brian Davies slurped the last of the chili from his can. The small cooking fire in front of him gave off little light and heat, which was something to be thankful for, here deep behind enemy lines.
“Well, that’s the last of it.” said Brian. “You doing okay?”
“I’m fine.” said the other man, his large cowboy hat outlining him in the dark. “I just don’t see how we can keep doing this, Doc.”
“We can’t, Cowboy. We’ve got to make a run for it.”
“Patrick and the others don’t want to risk it. They think we’ll only be cut down if we try.”
“They might be right, but our supplies are gone. We can’t repair our machines and we can’t feed our men. There’s no choice now.”
Cowboy leaned against a twisted tree and groaned. His Hauptmann bars flashed in the firelight, and seemed to Doc to be all the weight in the universe on his friend’s shoulders.
“We won’t all make it.”
“No, we won’t.” said Doc. “But there’s an FC jumpship up there, the first that’s risked coming here since the battle. Your long-range transmitter is still functional. Tell them we’re here and need pick up.”
Cowboy nodded. “We’re doing it.” he said with finality. “If Patrick wants to die here, then he can. I want to live, so I’m going out on that dropship.” He looked down at Doc. “I’ll go tell the others.”
----
Cowboy, Doc, Patrick, and their group were the last survivors of the 9th Deneb Light Cavalry. The regiment had been sent in to take Denizli from Clan Jade Falcon during Operation: Counterstrike. They had won the planet handily during Wave three of that operation, around the same time as the Star Swords were retaking New Belfast.
But then, after the battle of Tukayyid, the Jade Falcons were no longer going to allow their occupation zone to be cut in half. They launched assaults against several of the worlds taken in Wave Three, including Denizli. The 9th Deneb made a quick retreat in the face of the renewed Clan assault, but unfortunately had left some of their troops behind.
Cowboy had escaped with three other mechwarriors into the mountains lining the northern shore of the planet’s southern continent. A wild largely unexplored land, the unit had managed to hide out there for several months.
Then the new Clan garrison of Denizli decided to perform maneuvers on the south continent and stumbled upon the survivors. A random encounter erupted into a short decisive battle that cost the Falcons two small Omnimechs and the survivors one of their mechs.
The survivors consisted of Cowboy and his HGN-733 Highlander, Patrick and his VTR-9K Victor, and Arissa with a JM6-DD Jagermech. Doc and Mallory were along for the ride, Doc being a technician, Mallory having had his mech shot out from under him during their initial contact with the Clan scouts.
Cowboy’s Highlander, despite its lack of Star League weapons, did carry the assault mech’s sophisticated sensor and communications package. As a result, he was able to receive the transmission that a friendly jumpship was in the system, looking for survivors and smugglers. Cowboy made the difficult decision to alert the ship to their presence, but in order to get off the planet, the Deneb survivors would have to move to an area where a dropship could land. That meant open ground.
Cowboy and his comrades now made their way out of the mountains and towards the open plains to the south, remembering well that there was a Clan binary down here out for blood.
“We bagged two of their own the last time we tangled with them.” said Cowboy to Doc, who rode with him in the Highlander’s passenger seat. “They’re burning for revenge, mostly because they’re pissed they missed us back in September.”
“I know.” said the tech ruefully. “We can always hope that none of them find us.”
“Not likely.” said Cowboy. His radar already was picking up enemy contacts.
“Dropship Deliverance to Deneb lance. ETA on planet is 4 minutes. I’m picking up enemy mechs in your area. You’d better be at the dust-off site when I get there, because I’m going to be a sitting duck with those Clan mechs nearby.”
“Roger that, Deliverance. Bogeys are as much a worry to us as they are to you.” responded Cowboy.
“What are they?”
“It’s a full Star, about three klicks to the west and closing fast. Looks like three Ullers, a Mad Cat, and a Loki.”
“Far more than we can handle.”
“No kidding.” said Cowboy, reaching up to flip a switch above his head. The computer chimed back. “Disengagement of missile safeties is not advised.”
“Shut up.” said Doc, knowing that having the Highlander’s LRM’s hot-loaded effectively doubled their short-range firepower.
“Enemy mechs. ETA 90 seconds.” warned Doc.
“Survivor One to Survivor lance, enemy forces on the move. ETA 1 minute. Get ready to rumble.”
“I’ll take the Cat.” said Patrick.
“Loki’s mine.” said Cowboy. “Can you handle all three Ullers?”
“I’ll try.” said Arissa. “How long do we have to hold them?”
“Just a few minutes. Pick-up is en route.” Cowboy looked up and could see the vapor trail of the descending dropship above him.
The Mad Cat cleared a small hill and opened fire with a large autocannon on its right arm. Tracer rounds made the shots look like laser beams as the coursed over to lance across the armor of Cowboy’s Highlander.
“Scratch that, they’ve got their own ideas.” said Patrick. “The Cat’s yours.”
“Thanks.” said Cowboy, dropping his LRM sight onto the Mad Cat and firing. Twenty of the missiles hurled out, snaking through the air to slam hard into the Clan machine.
The Ullers came up next, firing in concert at the Victor. Patrick’s gauss rifle had been the team’s salvation the last time they’d encountered the Clans, having dropped both Ullers then with it. But now, it was dangerously low on ammo. Still, Patrick lobbed a single shell at one. The nickel slug pounded the Uller’s leg armor to powder, slowing it down, but not stopping it.
“They’re using combined fire.” said Patrick, wincing as his already damaged armor was depleted further by the Uller’s coordinated attack.
The Union dropship was now descending through the clouds, drawing off the attention of the Loki. “Here it comes. Everyone make a run for it on my mark.” said Cowboy, cutting loose with his own autocannon at the Mad Cat. It did not seem to flinch, but returned fire with a barrage of lasers. Sparks flew from one panel in the cockpit of the Highlander a power surge shot through the system.
“We’ve taken an engine hit.” said Doc.
The dropship touched down, lowering its ramp for the waiting mechs. Cowboy looked about. “Go!”
Turning on the Mad Cat, he bolted for the door. Patrick came close behind. The Mad Cat, annoyed to be losing its prey so soon, tore an autocannon salvo across the Victor. The shells tore through the armor covering the gauss rifle and detonated its capacitors. The explosion knocked the Victor off-balance and it fell into the dirt.
Suddenly confronted with her fallen comrade in her path, Arissa tried to dodge aside. Causing a 65 ton machine to turn suddenly was not an easy task in the best of conditions and as she started to turn, the pull of inertia began to bring her own mech over. Carefully pulling on the sticks, she tried to use her mech’s arms to counterbalance herself. Then the Loki struck.
Twin PPC blasts blasted through the Jagermech’s thin rear armor. Balance no longer mattered as armor panels rippled off the machine like scales as explosions ripped the machine apart. The flaming wreckage tipped over and crashed into the ground just short of the fallen Victor.
“Lost Arissa.” said Patrick, trying to stand. The Mad Cat moved forward, leaving the Highlander to escape.
Cowboy paused just short of the ramp. He turned and fired an autocannon burst at the Mad Cat. His shot pounded through the Cat’s armor, locking its elbow and making its autocannon hard to target. Annoyed, the Clan pilot twisted his mech about, taking a quick pot shot at the slow moving Victor. Unable to dodge, the pulse laser melted through the mech’s head armor to the unprotected cockpit beneath. Patrick never felt a thing.
“Damn you!” swore Cowboy. “You’re going down.” He cut loose with everything, emptying the last salvo of both LRM and autocannon into the Mad Cat. The heavy Clan mech weathered the blows, losing its other arm in the process, but it survived.
“Johvac, ammo’s depleted. We’ve got to get out of here.”
“But....”
“They’re gone. Don’t make us join them!”
Cowboy pushed the throttle forward and climbed into the dropship. A half-second later, the huge ion engines of the dropship roared to life, launching the dropship into space.
Chandler
Benjamin Military District, Draconis Combine
4 November 3052
Logan peaked out from the brick wall that lined the abandoned building that had once been Akeem Ali Akbar’s hideout. “There’s not much time. We can only hope they’ve not confiscated our mechs or our dropship.”
“I agree.” Said Rohan. “It’s now or never.”
As the two mercenaries stepped out with their charge and his cargo, a group of teenaged ruffians appeared from the shadows.
“What do you have there?” said the leader in Japanese. He pointed to Akbar’s briefcase with his stun baton. Somehow, Logan doubted that the weapon still retained the safeties that kept it from delivering a deadly jolt.
“Nothing of your concern, kid.” said Rohan in his native tongue.
“Don’t fuck with me, soldier.” responded the punk.
“Let me deal with this.” said Logan to Karl in Swedenese, the vernacular of the Rasalhague Republic. Rohan was born in what was now the Republic and knew the language. Both doubted the young ruffian understood.
Logan stepped forward, his long black coat whipping about in a slight breeze. He got within striking distance of the ruffian, well within reach of the punk’s baton.
“Go away.” said Logan firmly.
“Fuck you.”
Like lightning, Logan drew his gun, a flamer pistol and rammed the barrel into the punk’s half-open mouth. A twitch of the finger and his head would explode in a ball of flame. The punk dropped the baton as his friends scattered.
“Man instinctually fears being burned.” said Rohan flatly to Akbar. “Logan’s weapon of choice serves him as well when he doesn’t pull the trigger as it does when he does.”
Logan shoved the teenager back. The ruffian fell backwards onto his rump. “See you around.” said Logan, holstering his gun and heading off. Rohan and Akbar followed close behind.
----
“How nice of them to not have the fence fixed.” said Logan.
“There’s three enemy mechs on the far side of the tarmac. Too far away to bother us now, but once we get our mechs moving, they’ll be trouble.”
“What are they?”
“One of those Raptors, a Wolf Trap, and a Hatamoto-Chi.”
“Those’ll be tough opposition.”
“It’s now or never. Let’s go.”
The three men made a dash for the hanger. It was not unguarded, but Logan’s quick work with his flamer pistol killed the guard before any alarm was raised. Rohan took Akbar and headed for his Crab. Logan climbed up and got into Nightshade.
“Good, you’re all still in one piece.” he said powering up.
“The enemy mech’s have detected our power-up.” said Rohan as his Crab took its first step forward. Looks like the Raptor and Hatamoto-Chi are making their way towards us, the Wolf Trap is holding its position.
“I’ll take the big one. You take out that Raptor.”
“Now wait a minute....”
“You might have the bigger mech, Karl, but I’ve got more guns that you.”
“You’ll cook to bring that much firepower to bear.”
“I’ll chance it. Besides, you’ve got our bank account in your machine.” That was in reference to Akbar. “Better for you to take on the little guy.”
“Roger. Taking the Raptor.” Rohan pulled ahead as they marched onto the tarmac.
Karl fire-linked his two large lasers together and dropped the sight onto the small machine. “That’s Yuri’s machine. I recognize her evasion pattern. Oh, God, why her?”
“I know your mech, Karl. Don’t make me do this.” It was Yuri.
“And do what? Spend the rest of my life in a Kurita prison camp. I don’t think so.” He triggered his lasers. The two heavy lasers tore into the light mech’s frame. Yuri responded with her own barrage, six medium lasers. That was massive firepower for such a small mech.
And Rohan felt it. The shots tore through his heavy armor, knocking out one of his large lasers immediately. Rohan immediately switched to his lighter weapons, cutting off a volley of his medium and small laser. Yuri deftly evaded them.
“She’s evading rather than firing. I must have hit her harder than it seems.” Not knowing anything about the Raptor other than its speed and firepower, he could only surmise that the prototype Omni carried little armor.
Logan meanwhile was deftly handing the Hatamoto-Chi. At 80 tons, the mech was over twice his weight, carrying two PPCs and two six-pack SRM launchers. While its firepower was not overly impressive, it was fast and heavily armored.
Profanities were filling the airwaves, mostly from Logan, who used swearing as a means of intimidation. Some however were coming from the frustrated Kurita pilot, who Karl recognized as the disfigured one.
“Raptor Ichi to Wolf San. Get up here, Gwen.”
“Hai!” said a woman’s voice. The Wolf Trap began to close with them.
“Wolf Trap closing to firing range, Logan.” warned Karl.
“I see it. Can we make a break for it?” Logan lanced a single large laser across the elbow of the Hatamoto Chi. The arm blew off at the elbow, sending the mech’s PPC to the ferrocrete.
“I think so. Go!”
Logan broke off from the Hatamoto and sprinted for the northern fence. Karl was close behind, backstepping to keep the faster Raptor from pursuing. But Yuri seemed unwilling to engage. The Hatamoto Chi, on the other hand, was still in the fight, despite having lost a major weapon. Twelve SRMs hurled out of their chest mounted launchers. Rohan began to turn to run when the missiles slammed home. A burst of autocannon fire from the Wolf Trap cut across Rohan’s path.
“I’ve been cut off, Logan!” said Rohan.
“Damn!” swore the younger mechwarrior, stopping and turning back around.
Suddenly lasers flashed from the clouds above. They struck the back of the Wolf Trap, blasting through its rear armor and knocking the mech onto its face.
“Gwen!” cried the Hatamoto pilot in fear. He turned his PPC skyward as a sleek dropship parted the clouds to come down towards the tarmac.
“It’s Jael!” said Rohan. “How typical.”
The Fury pulled back up to go around for another pass. Knowing full well, she could not survive a barrage from the dropship’s laser turrets, Yuri pulled back towards the safety of the armored mech hangers.
“Javier, withdraw. We can’t repel that kind of firepower.”
“But Gwen....”
“Leave her. They’ll not harm her any further.”
Jael saw the Kurita machines withdraw and he brought the dropship down to land. Opening the rear hatch, he activated the loading platforms.
“Hurry, there’s not much time. Kurita fighters’ll be all over me in a few minutes.” he cried as Logan laid his mech on its back on its loading platform. Karl crouched down into a sitting position on his, to make his animal-like mech fit in the Lone Wolf’s narrow cargo bay.
The mechs were loaded and James ran forward to the cockpit. He shoved the throttle forward and felt the dropship’s upgraded engines roar to life. The 4 G take-off would be uncomfortable, but it would give them a big enough head start to escape the enemy fighters.
Within seconds, the dark blue sky of Chandler faded further to black. James cut back on the throttle and began to plot his course to the jumpship. Logan came forward.
“We lost Jacobs and Miruki.” said Logan, dropping into the co-pilot seat.
“I know. I’ve been waiting for you outside the city for two days now. Once I saw your IFF signals, I came flying in.”
“They came looking for you?”
“Of course, they were ISF. Give them a little credit. Don’t think they didn’t connect me to you.”
Akbar and Rohan came next. “So where to, Smuggler-boy?” said James half-mockingly.
“Well, the LIC on Chandler will be disappointed with my departure. I suggest we make for Lyran space.”
“No, the LIC will not be disappointed. The jumpship were headed towards is Lyran registered. It’s currently under license to the LIC. It’s how they were going to get you out anyway. There’s a command circuit set up to take us all the way to Twycross.”
“Why there, I wonder?”
“Don’t know. I guess we’ll find out later.”
----
Back on Chandler, Javier made his way over to the mauled Wolf Trap mech. Gwen was just now disembarking.
“Damn, they escaped.” she swore.
“It is probably best that they did.” said Javier casually. “We are working against our own nation and against our own destiny as those who would help unite the Inner Sphere against the Clans.”
“What can we do, Javier? We are nobody, nothing. Just faceless thugs for the ISF.”
“This is why we need to find a way out and get to New Belfast. Meet up with the Star Swords. We would no longer be anonymous assassins, working for a man mired in old and useless rivalries.”
“How?”
“I don’t know.” Answered Javier. “But if we prove ourselves loyal and dedicated to the Director’s little vendetta, he may give us the opportunity.”
“What are you saying?” asked Gwen.
“Just a hunch. I suspect we will be dealing with the Federated Commonwealth directly very soon. And when that happens, it will be our opportunity.”
Next Chapter
Skye March, Federated Commonwealth
7 October 3052
The noble paced the floor again, his face shining with delight. "The little bastard.....What little does he realize what he has given me?"
“You grace, we have gained valuable information concerning several of the Federated Commonwealth’s mercenary units. Many of them bear personal enmity towards the Draconis Combine and are interested in any operation you would sponsor against the Combine.”
“How interested?” The noble spun and glared at the man in the Lyran Intelligence Corps uniform. A weaker man would have withered under the noble's glare, but the LIC agent stood firm.
“They are mercenaries, mi’lord. One can only guess that money is their greatest objective.”
“How many regiments under arms will support an attack in your assessment?”
“Six Battlemech regiments. Plus about two dozen other conventional regiments.”
“Too few to hold off a concentrated attack from Prince Victor if he discovers us.”
“Our sponsor is willing to provide us with the supplies to forge a seventh regiment.”
“I know and I can get the pilots for those mechs easily enough.” The noble paced the floor. “Still, brute force will not win us the day. Our objective is two-fold.” He paused to collect his thoughts. “One, force Victor into a war with the Combine. If my guess is correct, he’ll try to fight that war with Lyran units. When he does, I will raise public opinion against him and force the Lyran Commonwealth succession.”
“But his mother?”
“Will not be a problem.” said the noble confidently. “Contact the mercenary regiments and learn what their intentions are. If we can use them to jump start this war, then so be it. I will pay them gladly for that role.”
New Belfast
Tamar March, Federated Commonwealth
1 November 3052
Hauptmann General Joshua Messer looked out from the tallest tower of Castle MacLeod. To the east was the vast waters of the Dividing Sea. To his west, the fertile green plains of his adopted homeworld stretched out for miles. Joshua stretched and let the early morning air fill his lungs. Most visitors to New Belfast would have gotten nauseous on the CO2 rich air, but Joshua was no longer a mere visitor.
"Spying on your wife, Joshua?"
Joshua turned to see his sister-in-law, Marian MacLeod. Shorter and younger than Lisa, Marian was in some ways prettier, with flame red hair and deep green eyes.
"Not really. I haven't seen her yet."
"She just came over the hill behind you."
Joshua turned and glanced southward. The plains here were slightly more rugged; rugged being a relative term. A series of rolling hills separated the castle from a large expanse of woods. Lisa was riding her horse over the top of one of those hills, her destination was the castle stable, some 100 meters from the castle.
"My, she's getting big, isn't she?" commented Marian. Marian was, of course, referring to the fact that Lisa was pregnant.
"Yes, she is." said Joshua flatly.
“You know, it took you two long enough. You were married on Skye during the peace. Your first kid is on the way only now?” said Marian with a playful grin. She loved ribbing her sister about Lisa's sex life, both before and after Lisa had married Joshua.
“Wartime isn’t exactly conducive to a healthy pregnancy.” Retorted Joshua. Even still, Lisa’s pregnancy was not a planned event. There was a question as to who the father was. Joshua was, of course, one option. But the other was far more sinister, as Lisa had been captured and repeatedly raped by Robert O’Malley when the Star Swords attacked New Belfast back in April.
Regardless of the child’s true parentage, the rapes had left their mark. Long months of counseling and therapy had given Lisa back some of her old self, but not all. Physical intimacy was out of the question, she not abide even Joshua’s touch. Their lack of affection for one another was troublesome, but Joshua was willing to be patient.
But how long would his patience last? That even he didn’t know.
Chandler
Benjamin Military District, Draconis Combine
2 November 3052
“Why all the way out there?” asked Captain Jael Mangalore. “Hagia is half-way across the continent.”
Logan Thorpe, commander of the mercenary lance The Dark Rangers, looked intently at his dropship captain. “We’ve gotten an offer. Some smuggler’s being hunted by Drac authorities. He’s willing to pay big for us to get him off-world.”
“What’s he carrying?”
“Carrying?”
“He’s a smuggler and the Dracs want him. I’ll bet The Fury, they’re after whatever he’s smuggling.”
“Don’t concern yourself with that. You just make sure we’ve got a jumpship willing to take us out of here if things get ugly.”
“No problem.” said Jael. “You just make sure we get paid for this.”
“Not a problem. I’ll take him to the cleaners.”
The Dark Rangers had been formed during the Clan War by several survivors of Clan attacks. Logan was the son of a wealthy Rasalhague industrialist who ran away from his overbearing parents to join the Kell Hounds. On a mission into the Periphery less than six months after he joined, he found himself staring down a Wolf Clan cluster. He was taken prisoner, along with Mangalore. Jael had been injured during the fighting, badly enough to keep him from ever piloting a mech again. He’d been the son of one of the Kell Hound’s dropship pilots, so he knew how to fly the elaborate spacecraft. That had saved them both, allowing them to escape the Clans by stealing a small transport dropship. They had since refit the craft with the pay from their first few jobs.
Joining the unit after their return to the Inner Sphere was Chu-i Karl Rohan, formerly of the DCMS, and two of his men, Jacobs and Miruki. That brought them up to a single lance of mechs, large enough to get descent jobs from local nobles. They’d gone on two major raids since their creation, both into Ghost Bear Clan space. Neither had netted them much salvage, in fact, they fought only a single Clan mech during those two missions. But they were paid well. Well enough to upgrade their stolen Lone Wolf class dropship, named The Fury. Their four mechs, a WLF-1 Wolfhound, a WFT-1 Wolf Trap, a PNT-9R Panther, and a CRB-20 Crab, were all in pristine condition.
Thus, despite their small size, the unit was in good shape. Most mercenary units could not boast the Dark Rangers success level, particularly after only two years of operation. Things were going well, but their last job had let them down. They’d come to Chandler with hopes of a third raid on the Ghost Bears when a family squabble killed their employer. Without the job they’d come looking for, Logan had hoped to salvage the costly trip out there by picking up an odd job among one of the planetary nobles. That’s how he came across this desperate smuggler.
Hagia was several hundred kilometers away. The smuggler was hiding out there in fear of contact with the ISF, the Kurita secret police. Logan, young and somewhat naive, knew of the ISF, but did not understand the fear they invoked in the people of the Draconis Combine. Despite the warnings of his three ex-Kurita comrades, he had taken the job.
The Fury was not designed for combat drops, nor could it easily unload its compliment of Battlemechs. Logan was waiting about impatiently as Rohan and the others off-loaded their machines so they could march them the distance to Hagia.
“You know where to find this guy?”
“We have an arranged meeting place and time.” Logan checked his watch. “It’s about 12 hours away, but I want to make sure we get there on time.”
“Rohan’s almost done with his Crab. He’s the last.”
“We’ll be back by this time tomorrow. You be ready to lift off.”
“If the ISF is on your ass, you’re damn right I’ll be ready to lift off.” Jael waved him off as Logan headed to mount up his Wolfhound, Nightshade.
Hagia
Chandler
Benjamin Military District, Draconis Combine
2 November 3052
Akeem Ali Akbar checked under his jacket one more time to make sure his pistol was there. As was the case when he’d checked the other four times, it was smugly held between his pants and his sizable belly. He looked back over his shoulder repeatedly, but saw no one.
Hagia had been the target of an attack during the Ronin Wars some 15 years before. The northern half of the city was devastated by the battle and remained in ruins to this day. It was a dangerous area, filled with criminal gangs and various others who wished to live outside the law. Even the ISF did not go there. Akeem had been hiding there safely for over three months. Now, to escape, he had to venture southward into what was known as the Borderlands, the area of the city lining the ruins.
The Borderlands neighborhoods were only slightly better than the ruins themselves. Also badly damaged in the battle, the poor and destitute lived here. Police rarely came here, fearing raids from the gangs of the ruins, so crime was rampant. Prostitution, drugs, guns, and all sorts of vices could be found here. It was to such a place where one could find all of the above that Akbar was going.
The bar was a dive at best. Akeem walked in to be blasted by the smell of body odor, cigarette smoke, and various other odors too disgusting to mention. Through the smoke, he made his way to a dark back table where sat four reasonably well-dressed men. The clientele looked suspiciously at them, revealing their outsider nature. Akeem knew they were too polished to be anything but the mechwarriors he’d contracted to protect him.
“Are you Logan?” asked Akeem.
“That would be me.” said Logan, looking up at Akeem. “You Akbar?”
“Yes.” said the Arab man nervously. “You have agreed to my terms?”
“Not entirely.” said Rohan. “You’re trying to avoid the ISF. That’s a big risk for us. We want double your current offer.”
“Double? Are you mad?”
The door opened and four people clan in black jumpsuits entered. Wearing faceplates to hide their identity, they bore laser rifles and vibrokatanas as weapons.
“Want to rethink that?” said Rohan, reaching for his sidearm. “Those are DEST soldiers.”
The sight of the four soldiers did just that for Akbar. “You have a deal, Logan. Double my last offer. Now get me out of here.” he whispered hurriedly.
“The back!” said Logan. “Quickly.” The five men stood up, immediately drawing attention to themselves. Logan drew his laser pistol and fired as the DEST men turned. The crimson beam tagged the closest soldier, searing through his armor and burning a nasty wound into his left arm. He cried out and fell over. Panic ensued as the crowd in the bar jumped to their feet, desperate to find cover from the coming gun battle.
“So much for quiet.” said Rohan, drawing his own gun, a Mydron machine pistol. He squeezed the trigger, firing at the ISF soldiers, but instead tagging an innocent bystander who walked into the path of bullets.
“Damn!” swore Karl, angry at killing a bystander. He pushed Akbar down and began to follow Logan towards the back door.
As Logan cleared the door, the butt of a laser rifle smashed him in the face. He reeled and fell to the earth. An ugly disfigured man stood over him haughtily. “You mercenary scum!” Rohan drew a bead on the man, but then noticed the five other laser rifles pointing right at him.
“I would not recommend that, Chu-i Rohan.” said a voice, a familiar voice.
“Yuri?” said Karl, lowering his pistol and surrendering.
“Hai. I feared you might go mercenary after our failure on Turtle Bay. I knew that it would one day force us against one another.”
“And that day has come it seems.”
----
Yuri and her disfigured subordinate led the mercenaries and Akbar out into the street in front of the bar. Rohan looked about and saw a lance of ISF mechs patrolling nearby: A Crab, a Panther, a Locust, and a machine Rohan did not recognize. Also on the street were probably two dozen DEST soldiers in their jet black uniforms.
“Did you find the documents?” asked the pilot of the unknown mech to Yuri.
“Negative. Akbar does not have them.”
“Kuso.” swore the pilot, a woman.
“Now what?” asked Rohan of the groggy Logan.
“Beats me.” Logan leaned up next to Akbar. “I want triple now.”
“You’re getting nothing if you don’t get me out of here.”
Suddenly, a limousine pulled up and parked at the feet of the unknown mech. Several men in black suits stepped out and walked towards Yuri.
“Tai-sa Noriko, I am Kobun Walter Nirotaki of the Ryu-gin-ka clan. I am here to take charge of your prisoners by the authority of the Gunji No Kanrei.”
That was Theodore Kurita’s official title, the heir-apparent of the Draconis Combine and commander of the DCMS. Before the War of 3039 with the Federated Commonwealth, he had recruited the Yakuza crime families to assist him against the Fed Com invasion. That had led to Kanrei Kurita using the Yakuza as his own personal operatives.
“I do not recognize your authority here, Kobun. I serve the Dragon. You are a common criminal.”
“I too serve the Dragon, Tai-sa, and I am authorized to take these prisoners by force if need be. But there is no need for two servants of the Dragon to fight each other when a peaceful and honorable agreement can be found.”
Yuri did not like the veiled threat. She looked towards the unknown mech. “Tai-sa, I confirm the presence of a company of unknown mechs closing on us from within the ruins.”
“The 10th Ghost regiment, if you are curious. We have been ordered here by the Kanrei. The 17th Galedon will also support our claim to these prisoners if you resist.”
“Then you shall have them, Kobun.” said Yuri disgustedly.
“I knew you would see things in a reasonable light.” Nirotaki motioned for his soldiers to take charge of Logan and his group. The mercenaries were forced back towards the limousine by only slightly more gentle means than the ISF had manhandled them.
“Popular, aren’t you?” said Jacobs at Akbar.
“Who the hell did you piss off anyway?” asked Logan.
As the limousine sped off, Yuri snapped her fingers. “Stop them. Director Indrahar’s prize must not escape with the Yakuza.”
“But the DCMS?” responded the disfigured one.
“Make it look accidental.” said Yuri sharply.
“Hai”
----
The limousine drove over to the airport at the northwestern edge of town. This facility had been the target of the ronin mechs that had destroyed the northern portion of the city. Thus, it lay with the Borderlands to its southeast and the ruins on all other sides. It was an armored fortress of a facility. The 17th Galedon Regulars maintained a small garrison of mechs here to keep adventuresome gangs under control. It was also where mercenaries under hire of the planets nobility stored their mechs. The Dark Ranger mechs were here.
During the trip over to the airport, Logan had managed to work his bonds loose. A teenage life running with the gangs on Rasalhague had given the young merc leader more than one trick up his sleeve.
As the limo crossed onto the tarmac, there was a flash of light and the front quarter of the car exploded. Logan and the others were thrown forward out of their seats as the limo came to a screeching halt. The two Ghost regiment mechs that had been waiting suddenly came under fire as well.
“It’s the ISF.” rattled off a Yakuza soldier in Japanese.
True enough, a lance of DEST mechs emerged from behind the hangers. Logan recognized two of the machines from the lance back at the bar, the other two were captured Clan Omnimechs, a Ryoken and a Vulture.
The Ghost machines, a Warhammer and a Quickdraw, knew they were outmatched. They began to pull back, leaving their demolished limousine to its fate. But the ISF was not about to let them go.
“Let’s get out of here.” said Logan.
“What’s going on?” asked Akbar.
“The ISF want you back, and they’re willing to kill the Yaks to do it. These men are dead. Let’s make sure we don’t end up that way.”
The four Dark Rangers and their charge crawled out of the smashed car, followed by two Yakuza guards. Those guards seemed little concerned with mercs thankfully, and turned their attentions on escaping with their lives. One DEST mech, the unknown machine from the Borderlands bar, was moving after them. It had been the one to fire on them and now was bent on finishing off the Yakuza soldiers.
Pulse lasers laced up the tarmac, roasting the two soldiers alive as they ran. Logan and his men kept running, heading for the fence at the far side of the tarmac that led into the ruins. The mystery mech gave chase, moving much faster than the men on foot.
Jacobs turned around and fired on it with a stolen submachine gun. It was a futile effort, and only drew attention to him. The mech’s arm mounted pulse laser flashed and Jacobs went up in a flash of flame.
“Damn, lost Jacobs.” swore Rohan. The fence was only 20 meters away, but the mech was almost on top of them.
“Wait a second!” said Logan, suddenly turning around. Unable to brake quickly enough, the mech kept going over Logan’s head. Rohan took the hint and jerked about, dragging Akbar with him. Miruki tried to do the same, but was struck by the mech’s leg as it tried to stop itself. While he wasn’t stepped on, the blow was enough to knock him out cold, probably kill him.
Logan wove around the machine’s left leg as it tried to back up. He made a dash for the fence, with Rohan close behind. Logan suddenly yanked back, as pulse lasers flashed over his head. The ruse had worked. The lasers boiled through the chain links, giving the mercs a way out. Logan picked up his speed and was through the fence before the lasers could recycle. Rohan was close behind and Akbar with him.
Logan kept running. The mech stepped over the fence and continued its pursuit, but the crowded streets of the ruins prevented it from moving very quickly. Logan led his companions around a corner and he stopped.
Rohan gasped for breath. “I can’t run anymore. Breathed too much ozone from that near miss.” He coughed. “Let’s stay here and pray it doesn’t have a Beagle probe.”
“Allah be merciful.” prayed Akbar. “A Raptor does, in some configs.”
“A what?”
“A Raptor. It’s a prototype Omnimech. Only the ISF and the Dragon’s Claws use it.”
“You worked for the ISF, didn’t you?”
“Hai. I was a courier for them.”
“What’s this all about, Akbar? You owe us that much now.”
“It’s about betrayal, Logan. My mission was to relay orders to the Ryuken regiments on Wolcott, both for the Kanrei and the ISF. The ISF is stockpiling arms, the Ryuken were getting Clan technology from their raids. Some of that was going to the ISF, and I was the middleman on that operation.”
“Why stockpiling? What are they up to?”
“Apparently, they’re acquiring arms from all across the Combine. Old Succession War mechs, Star League weapons, and stolen Clan technology, all of it being stockpiled on Al Na’ir. It wasn’t until I disobeyed orders and broke the seal on the ISF’s orders to the Ryuken that I discovered why. I have a way of doing it without it being detected. One of the tricks on my trade.”
“And that is? Why are they?” said Logan, annoyed.
“They’re creating an army of their own and they’re going to launch a war against the Federated Commonwealth.”
“The new Alliance? They’re trying to stop it.” said Rohan.
Akbar nodded. The Raptor walked past, shaking the earth and stopping hearts for a moment, but then moved on.
“Does the Kanrei know?”
“Doubtful. I suspect his intervention here is to discover why I fled my duty. Being taken by the Yakuza would have not been an unpleasant fate, save perhaps the seppuku the Dragon would have asked of me. But I knew the ISF would not allow them to take me, no matter what forces stood against them. They would rig something up to silence me before any Kurita ever heard my story.”
“Takashi-sama would trust the ISF and not believe you.” said Rohan. “The Kanrei might believe your story, but you would need proof.”
“I will need proof regardless, if I am to prove my story to the LIC.”
“The Lyran’s?”
“They are here on Chandler and like their opponents in the ISF have been unable to locate me. But I know where they are. Get me to them, and between them and I, you will be paid all that you ask.”
“I not so concerned about the money now.” said Logan bitterly. “It helps to be alive to spend it.”
“Well, let us make sure that Raptor does not come around for another pass and then I will lead you to my hiding place. There, we will get my proof and then you can take me back to Chandler City. I know where to find an LIC operative there.”
Denizli
Jade Falcon Occupation Zone
3 November 3052
Brian Davies slurped the last of the chili from his can. The small cooking fire in front of him gave off little light and heat, which was something to be thankful for, here deep behind enemy lines.
“Well, that’s the last of it.” said Brian. “You doing okay?”
“I’m fine.” said the other man, his large cowboy hat outlining him in the dark. “I just don’t see how we can keep doing this, Doc.”
“We can’t, Cowboy. We’ve got to make a run for it.”
“Patrick and the others don’t want to risk it. They think we’ll only be cut down if we try.”
“They might be right, but our supplies are gone. We can’t repair our machines and we can’t feed our men. There’s no choice now.”
Cowboy leaned against a twisted tree and groaned. His Hauptmann bars flashed in the firelight, and seemed to Doc to be all the weight in the universe on his friend’s shoulders.
“We won’t all make it.”
“No, we won’t.” said Doc. “But there’s an FC jumpship up there, the first that’s risked coming here since the battle. Your long-range transmitter is still functional. Tell them we’re here and need pick up.”
Cowboy nodded. “We’re doing it.” he said with finality. “If Patrick wants to die here, then he can. I want to live, so I’m going out on that dropship.” He looked down at Doc. “I’ll go tell the others.”
----
Cowboy, Doc, Patrick, and their group were the last survivors of the 9th Deneb Light Cavalry. The regiment had been sent in to take Denizli from Clan Jade Falcon during Operation: Counterstrike. They had won the planet handily during Wave three of that operation, around the same time as the Star Swords were retaking New Belfast.
But then, after the battle of Tukayyid, the Jade Falcons were no longer going to allow their occupation zone to be cut in half. They launched assaults against several of the worlds taken in Wave Three, including Denizli. The 9th Deneb made a quick retreat in the face of the renewed Clan assault, but unfortunately had left some of their troops behind.
Cowboy had escaped with three other mechwarriors into the mountains lining the northern shore of the planet’s southern continent. A wild largely unexplored land, the unit had managed to hide out there for several months.
Then the new Clan garrison of Denizli decided to perform maneuvers on the south continent and stumbled upon the survivors. A random encounter erupted into a short decisive battle that cost the Falcons two small Omnimechs and the survivors one of their mechs.
The survivors consisted of Cowboy and his HGN-733 Highlander, Patrick and his VTR-9K Victor, and Arissa with a JM6-DD Jagermech. Doc and Mallory were along for the ride, Doc being a technician, Mallory having had his mech shot out from under him during their initial contact with the Clan scouts.
Cowboy’s Highlander, despite its lack of Star League weapons, did carry the assault mech’s sophisticated sensor and communications package. As a result, he was able to receive the transmission that a friendly jumpship was in the system, looking for survivors and smugglers. Cowboy made the difficult decision to alert the ship to their presence, but in order to get off the planet, the Deneb survivors would have to move to an area where a dropship could land. That meant open ground.
Cowboy and his comrades now made their way out of the mountains and towards the open plains to the south, remembering well that there was a Clan binary down here out for blood.
“We bagged two of their own the last time we tangled with them.” said Cowboy to Doc, who rode with him in the Highlander’s passenger seat. “They’re burning for revenge, mostly because they’re pissed they missed us back in September.”
“I know.” said the tech ruefully. “We can always hope that none of them find us.”
“Not likely.” said Cowboy. His radar already was picking up enemy contacts.
“Dropship Deliverance to Deneb lance. ETA on planet is 4 minutes. I’m picking up enemy mechs in your area. You’d better be at the dust-off site when I get there, because I’m going to be a sitting duck with those Clan mechs nearby.”
“Roger that, Deliverance. Bogeys are as much a worry to us as they are to you.” responded Cowboy.
“What are they?”
“It’s a full Star, about three klicks to the west and closing fast. Looks like three Ullers, a Mad Cat, and a Loki.”
“Far more than we can handle.”
“No kidding.” said Cowboy, reaching up to flip a switch above his head. The computer chimed back. “Disengagement of missile safeties is not advised.”
“Shut up.” said Doc, knowing that having the Highlander’s LRM’s hot-loaded effectively doubled their short-range firepower.
“Enemy mechs. ETA 90 seconds.” warned Doc.
“Survivor One to Survivor lance, enemy forces on the move. ETA 1 minute. Get ready to rumble.”
“I’ll take the Cat.” said Patrick.
“Loki’s mine.” said Cowboy. “Can you handle all three Ullers?”
“I’ll try.” said Arissa. “How long do we have to hold them?”
“Just a few minutes. Pick-up is en route.” Cowboy looked up and could see the vapor trail of the descending dropship above him.
The Mad Cat cleared a small hill and opened fire with a large autocannon on its right arm. Tracer rounds made the shots look like laser beams as the coursed over to lance across the armor of Cowboy’s Highlander.
“Scratch that, they’ve got their own ideas.” said Patrick. “The Cat’s yours.”
“Thanks.” said Cowboy, dropping his LRM sight onto the Mad Cat and firing. Twenty of the missiles hurled out, snaking through the air to slam hard into the Clan machine.
The Ullers came up next, firing in concert at the Victor. Patrick’s gauss rifle had been the team’s salvation the last time they’d encountered the Clans, having dropped both Ullers then with it. But now, it was dangerously low on ammo. Still, Patrick lobbed a single shell at one. The nickel slug pounded the Uller’s leg armor to powder, slowing it down, but not stopping it.
“They’re using combined fire.” said Patrick, wincing as his already damaged armor was depleted further by the Uller’s coordinated attack.
The Union dropship was now descending through the clouds, drawing off the attention of the Loki. “Here it comes. Everyone make a run for it on my mark.” said Cowboy, cutting loose with his own autocannon at the Mad Cat. It did not seem to flinch, but returned fire with a barrage of lasers. Sparks flew from one panel in the cockpit of the Highlander a power surge shot through the system.
“We’ve taken an engine hit.” said Doc.
The dropship touched down, lowering its ramp for the waiting mechs. Cowboy looked about. “Go!”
Turning on the Mad Cat, he bolted for the door. Patrick came close behind. The Mad Cat, annoyed to be losing its prey so soon, tore an autocannon salvo across the Victor. The shells tore through the armor covering the gauss rifle and detonated its capacitors. The explosion knocked the Victor off-balance and it fell into the dirt.
Suddenly confronted with her fallen comrade in her path, Arissa tried to dodge aside. Causing a 65 ton machine to turn suddenly was not an easy task in the best of conditions and as she started to turn, the pull of inertia began to bring her own mech over. Carefully pulling on the sticks, she tried to use her mech’s arms to counterbalance herself. Then the Loki struck.
Twin PPC blasts blasted through the Jagermech’s thin rear armor. Balance no longer mattered as armor panels rippled off the machine like scales as explosions ripped the machine apart. The flaming wreckage tipped over and crashed into the ground just short of the fallen Victor.
“Lost Arissa.” said Patrick, trying to stand. The Mad Cat moved forward, leaving the Highlander to escape.
Cowboy paused just short of the ramp. He turned and fired an autocannon burst at the Mad Cat. His shot pounded through the Cat’s armor, locking its elbow and making its autocannon hard to target. Annoyed, the Clan pilot twisted his mech about, taking a quick pot shot at the slow moving Victor. Unable to dodge, the pulse laser melted through the mech’s head armor to the unprotected cockpit beneath. Patrick never felt a thing.
“Damn you!” swore Cowboy. “You’re going down.” He cut loose with everything, emptying the last salvo of both LRM and autocannon into the Mad Cat. The heavy Clan mech weathered the blows, losing its other arm in the process, but it survived.
“Johvac, ammo’s depleted. We’ve got to get out of here.”
“But....”
“They’re gone. Don’t make us join them!”
Cowboy pushed the throttle forward and climbed into the dropship. A half-second later, the huge ion engines of the dropship roared to life, launching the dropship into space.
Chandler
Benjamin Military District, Draconis Combine
4 November 3052
Logan peaked out from the brick wall that lined the abandoned building that had once been Akeem Ali Akbar’s hideout. “There’s not much time. We can only hope they’ve not confiscated our mechs or our dropship.”
“I agree.” Said Rohan. “It’s now or never.”
As the two mercenaries stepped out with their charge and his cargo, a group of teenaged ruffians appeared from the shadows.
“What do you have there?” said the leader in Japanese. He pointed to Akbar’s briefcase with his stun baton. Somehow, Logan doubted that the weapon still retained the safeties that kept it from delivering a deadly jolt.
“Nothing of your concern, kid.” said Rohan in his native tongue.
“Don’t fuck with me, soldier.” responded the punk.
“Let me deal with this.” said Logan to Karl in Swedenese, the vernacular of the Rasalhague Republic. Rohan was born in what was now the Republic and knew the language. Both doubted the young ruffian understood.
Logan stepped forward, his long black coat whipping about in a slight breeze. He got within striking distance of the ruffian, well within reach of the punk’s baton.
“Go away.” said Logan firmly.
“Fuck you.”
Like lightning, Logan drew his gun, a flamer pistol and rammed the barrel into the punk’s half-open mouth. A twitch of the finger and his head would explode in a ball of flame. The punk dropped the baton as his friends scattered.
“Man instinctually fears being burned.” said Rohan flatly to Akbar. “Logan’s weapon of choice serves him as well when he doesn’t pull the trigger as it does when he does.”
Logan shoved the teenager back. The ruffian fell backwards onto his rump. “See you around.” said Logan, holstering his gun and heading off. Rohan and Akbar followed close behind.
----
“How nice of them to not have the fence fixed.” said Logan.
“There’s three enemy mechs on the far side of the tarmac. Too far away to bother us now, but once we get our mechs moving, they’ll be trouble.”
“What are they?”
“One of those Raptors, a Wolf Trap, and a Hatamoto-Chi.”
“Those’ll be tough opposition.”
“It’s now or never. Let’s go.”
The three men made a dash for the hanger. It was not unguarded, but Logan’s quick work with his flamer pistol killed the guard before any alarm was raised. Rohan took Akbar and headed for his Crab. Logan climbed up and got into Nightshade.
“Good, you’re all still in one piece.” he said powering up.
“The enemy mech’s have detected our power-up.” said Rohan as his Crab took its first step forward. Looks like the Raptor and Hatamoto-Chi are making their way towards us, the Wolf Trap is holding its position.
“I’ll take the big one. You take out that Raptor.”
“Now wait a minute....”
“You might have the bigger mech, Karl, but I’ve got more guns that you.”
“You’ll cook to bring that much firepower to bear.”
“I’ll chance it. Besides, you’ve got our bank account in your machine.” That was in reference to Akbar. “Better for you to take on the little guy.”
“Roger. Taking the Raptor.” Rohan pulled ahead as they marched onto the tarmac.
Karl fire-linked his two large lasers together and dropped the sight onto the small machine. “That’s Yuri’s machine. I recognize her evasion pattern. Oh, God, why her?”
“I know your mech, Karl. Don’t make me do this.” It was Yuri.
“And do what? Spend the rest of my life in a Kurita prison camp. I don’t think so.” He triggered his lasers. The two heavy lasers tore into the light mech’s frame. Yuri responded with her own barrage, six medium lasers. That was massive firepower for such a small mech.
And Rohan felt it. The shots tore through his heavy armor, knocking out one of his large lasers immediately. Rohan immediately switched to his lighter weapons, cutting off a volley of his medium and small laser. Yuri deftly evaded them.
“She’s evading rather than firing. I must have hit her harder than it seems.” Not knowing anything about the Raptor other than its speed and firepower, he could only surmise that the prototype Omni carried little armor.
Logan meanwhile was deftly handing the Hatamoto-Chi. At 80 tons, the mech was over twice his weight, carrying two PPCs and two six-pack SRM launchers. While its firepower was not overly impressive, it was fast and heavily armored.
Profanities were filling the airwaves, mostly from Logan, who used swearing as a means of intimidation. Some however were coming from the frustrated Kurita pilot, who Karl recognized as the disfigured one.
“Raptor Ichi to Wolf San. Get up here, Gwen.”
“Hai!” said a woman’s voice. The Wolf Trap began to close with them.
“Wolf Trap closing to firing range, Logan.” warned Karl.
“I see it. Can we make a break for it?” Logan lanced a single large laser across the elbow of the Hatamoto Chi. The arm blew off at the elbow, sending the mech’s PPC to the ferrocrete.
“I think so. Go!”
Logan broke off from the Hatamoto and sprinted for the northern fence. Karl was close behind, backstepping to keep the faster Raptor from pursuing. But Yuri seemed unwilling to engage. The Hatamoto Chi, on the other hand, was still in the fight, despite having lost a major weapon. Twelve SRMs hurled out of their chest mounted launchers. Rohan began to turn to run when the missiles slammed home. A burst of autocannon fire from the Wolf Trap cut across Rohan’s path.
“I’ve been cut off, Logan!” said Rohan.
“Damn!” swore the younger mechwarrior, stopping and turning back around.
Suddenly lasers flashed from the clouds above. They struck the back of the Wolf Trap, blasting through its rear armor and knocking the mech onto its face.
“Gwen!” cried the Hatamoto pilot in fear. He turned his PPC skyward as a sleek dropship parted the clouds to come down towards the tarmac.
“It’s Jael!” said Rohan. “How typical.”
The Fury pulled back up to go around for another pass. Knowing full well, she could not survive a barrage from the dropship’s laser turrets, Yuri pulled back towards the safety of the armored mech hangers.
“Javier, withdraw. We can’t repel that kind of firepower.”
“But Gwen....”
“Leave her. They’ll not harm her any further.”
Jael saw the Kurita machines withdraw and he brought the dropship down to land. Opening the rear hatch, he activated the loading platforms.
“Hurry, there’s not much time. Kurita fighters’ll be all over me in a few minutes.” he cried as Logan laid his mech on its back on its loading platform. Karl crouched down into a sitting position on his, to make his animal-like mech fit in the Lone Wolf’s narrow cargo bay.
The mechs were loaded and James ran forward to the cockpit. He shoved the throttle forward and felt the dropship’s upgraded engines roar to life. The 4 G take-off would be uncomfortable, but it would give them a big enough head start to escape the enemy fighters.
Within seconds, the dark blue sky of Chandler faded further to black. James cut back on the throttle and began to plot his course to the jumpship. Logan came forward.
“We lost Jacobs and Miruki.” said Logan, dropping into the co-pilot seat.
“I know. I’ve been waiting for you outside the city for two days now. Once I saw your IFF signals, I came flying in.”
“They came looking for you?”
“Of course, they were ISF. Give them a little credit. Don’t think they didn’t connect me to you.”
Akbar and Rohan came next. “So where to, Smuggler-boy?” said James half-mockingly.
“Well, the LIC on Chandler will be disappointed with my departure. I suggest we make for Lyran space.”
“No, the LIC will not be disappointed. The jumpship were headed towards is Lyran registered. It’s currently under license to the LIC. It’s how they were going to get you out anyway. There’s a command circuit set up to take us all the way to Twycross.”
“Why there, I wonder?”
“Don’t know. I guess we’ll find out later.”
----
Back on Chandler, Javier made his way over to the mauled Wolf Trap mech. Gwen was just now disembarking.
“Damn, they escaped.” she swore.
“It is probably best that they did.” said Javier casually. “We are working against our own nation and against our own destiny as those who would help unite the Inner Sphere against the Clans.”
“What can we do, Javier? We are nobody, nothing. Just faceless thugs for the ISF.”
“This is why we need to find a way out and get to New Belfast. Meet up with the Star Swords. We would no longer be anonymous assassins, working for a man mired in old and useless rivalries.”
“How?”
“I don’t know.” Answered Javier. “But if we prove ourselves loyal and dedicated to the Director’s little vendetta, he may give us the opportunity.”
“What are you saying?” asked Gwen.
“Just a hunch. I suspect we will be dealing with the Federated Commonwealth directly very soon. And when that happens, it will be our opportunity.”
Next Chapter
Star Swords Shattered - Part One
Chapter One – Enemies Assemble
Location Classified
Somewhere in the Free Worlds League
10 September 3052
Captain-General Thomas Marik marched quickly down the hall towards the conference room. The scars he once received in an assassination attempt made the leader of the Free Worlds League into a sinister ghoul-like figure, but despite his appearance, he was no more evil or good than any other head of state. His main concern was his own nation and throne, and be damned anyone or anything else.
And it was to address a threat to those that he had come here.
The guards opened the doors to the conference room for him. He marched swiftly inside as the assembled group, or at least most of them, stood in respect. Thomas ignored those who did not and took his own seat.
"Report." he barked. "What is the current news?"
Michael A Phillips, one of the heads of SAFE, the League's intelligence agency, leaned forward. "Our operatives have confirmed the presence of Ardan Sortek and Morgan Hasek-Davion on Luthien, sire. Negotiations have begun."
"Do we know for certain what these negotiations are about?"
"We do not have confirmation." said Captain Andy Leake, an aide to Phillips. "With the death of Hanse Davion, young Prince Victor is eager to carve his own mark upon the Inner Sphere. So it's a safe bet he's going to try to solidify his ties with the Draconis Combine." Prince Davion had died from a heart attack within days of the end of the Clan War, leaving control of half of the Federated Commonwealth in the hands of his young son. While the Lyran half was still under the control of Victor’s mother, Melissa Steiner, Victor’s ascension was an unpredictable element.
"Do you suspect a military alliance?" asked Thomas.
"Yes, mi'lord. I do." said Phillips. "Giving Davion the freedom to strip his Draconis border and inward reaches of troops. Where he will put these troops, none can say, but we cannot discount the possibility that he will use the 15 year truce period to attempt a conquest of the League."
"How stable is the Clan Truce?"
"Too early to say." said Colonel Ragnar Smythe, a mercenary commander in League employ. "My regiment is posted to the Clan front on the Lyran world of Babeski. We've had no problems with Clan units, which seem to be regrouping or repairing themselves after the Battle of Tukayyid."
"If the Truce holds, Captain-General," said General Masterson, commander of the League's armies, "you can expect Victor to eye us. Particularly if it is a military alliance with Kurita that he seeks. That will place three of the old Successor States as firmly bonded allies, versus us and the Capellans. Our alliance with them is not so firm, nor do we want it so. Sun-tzu is dangerous, and he eyes the throne of Atreus with vulture’s eyes."
"He is a tool, nothing more." said Thomas. "But I agree. He is a volatile one at best. We must seek new allies elsewhere. To this end, I have invited two guests." He glanced at the door guards to admitted two people.
"Both you should recognize. The Precentor has brought to us news concerning a schism occurring within ComStar. The new order being formed by Precentor Martial Anastastius Focht is resented and hated by more traditional minded members of ComStar. They have splintered off, bringing with them military forces, technicians, and invaluable support. They are now known as Word of Blake. I have offered them safety on Gibson. They will aid in the defense of the League.
"The Duchess, well, let's just say that she has hatched a very risky plan, using stealth and subterfuge that I would more quickly expect from Capellans than Lyrans. By using known separatist and anti-government organizations within the Federated Commonwealth, she intends to launch attacks against key FedCom and Draconis worlds. Already, she has secured the loyalty of several Battlemech regiments, both House and mercenary, who are known for their hatred of the Combine. We will support her effort with repair supplies.
Thomas Marik leaned forward. "If her plan succeeds, we will splinter the Federated Commonwealth in two. Victor will not have an alliance, he will have an interstellar war. And from that, we will profit greatly."
Internal Security Force Headquarters
New Samarkand
Galedon District, Draconis Combine
14 September 3052
Subhash Indrahar walked feebly back to his chair. He collapsed into it, hiding behind the massive mahogany desk that decorated his office. He was old, older than God himself it seemed. But his four score years had not yet robbed him of the sharpness of his mind. Nor would he allow any to think his body feeble if he could avoid it.
A chime sounded, indicating the arrival of a guest. "Enter." he barked in Japanese, the native tongue of the Combine.
A beautiful woman entered with two escorts. All three were dressed in the jet black field uniform of the DEST, or Draconis Elite Strike Team. The leader was mid-thirties, Oriental features, but with striking pale blue eyes. Jutting below on sleeve of her uniform, one could see a flash of chrome, indicating a prosthetic limb of some fashion. Her escorts were two of her mechwarriors, given to her by the Director for this operation. She knew their names, but little more: Gwen Laidir and Javier Libereux.
"Oyaho gozimas, Director Indrahar-sama." said the leader. "You have orders, ne?"
"Yuri Noriko. Born 3019 on Luthien. Father, Russian descent, Tai-i, 1st Genyosha regiment. Mother, Japanese, civilian. Joined ISF in 3037 at age 18. Trapped and injured behind Clan lines on Turtle Bay. Escaped via smuggler ship. Current assignment: Commander, 1st DEST Battlemech regiment." Indrahar rattled off Yuri's credentials, memorized and not read.
"Hai, Director." said Yuri.
"How are your mechwarriors doing, Tai-sa?"
"Training has completed. By all accounts, we show to be rated an elite regiment."
"Excellent. How would you and your troops think of a training exercise?"
"The question is irrelevant, sir. We do as you wish."
"Correct answer, Tai-sa. Do you know of this man?"
A viewscreen on the wall flickered to life, displaying the image of a portly Arabian man.
"Abu Ali Akbar." said Yuri. "He's a smuggler. We have used his services in the past to run guns back and forth behind the Clan border."
"You have met him, ne?"
"Hai. It was on his ship that I escaped Turtle Bay."
"We acquired his services to relay a courier to our units on Wolcott. He did not arrive on Wolcott as scheduled. We have reason to suspect treason, that he somehow eliminated the courier and obtained his package. We have located Akbar on Chandler, where he was forced to land after failing to obtain jumpship transport from there into Rasalhague. He is grounded for the time being. Our field operatives have confirmed that he is seeking mercenary bodyguards and a ship that will take him out of the Combine. Already, LIC operatives have been alerted to his presence and have also arrived on Chandler. Until he has an escape route figured out, he’s gone to ground and has become nearly impossible to track. Your job will be to prevent that package from reaching Lyran space. Use any means necessary. Your departure will be immediate. Assemble a strike team of one company."
"What manner of opposition may we face?"
"His mercenaries. He cannot afford more than a lance or so. The Lyran intelligence operatives may prove a problem as well. You have your orders. Begin your preparations. Dismissed."
Evcilier
Tamar March, Federated Commonwealth
5 October 3052
Evcilier was a largely desert world that had the nostalgic feel of the "Old West." Lacking more modern building supplies, buildings were made of wood and resembled by both coincidence and design the typical structures one might find in a Western holovid.
This atmosphere made Richard O'Malley feel somewhat out-of-place. That was not the only thing that annoyed him. He had not been on Northwind two weeks before Antoine called in his favor. Thus, the two of them were now on Evcilier, dangerously close to the very people Richard had been so determined to escape just months before.
After the success of Operation: Counterstrike, the three battalions of the Swords split up to garrison the three worlds around New Belfast. First remained on New Belfast, Third went to Twycross, and Fourth came here to Evcilier. It had been a prudent move. Although battered and beaten by the ComGuards on Tukayyid in the battle that had forced a “truce” onto the Clans, they remained busy. Already, the Falcons had re-conquered two worlds they had lost in the final wave of Operation: Counterstrike. But they also seemed determined to go out of their way to avoid the worlds the Star Swords garrisoned. New Belfast had sobered the Jade Falcons and they were not eager to repeat that battle.
With Fourth now guarding Evcilier, that meant Juan Miranda was here. And it was Juan Miranda that Antoine and Richard had come to see.
Richard marched inside the hotel with Antoine and was immediately blocked by a massive Elemental soldier. Although sans his powerful cybernetic armor, the giant was more than three feet taller than Richard and nearly twice as wide.
"No civilians." said the elemental curtly.
"I wish to speak with Kommandant Miranda. Where is he?"
"The Kommandant takes no visitors."
"He'll see me."
"At ease, Martin." barked a voice. Juan Miranda stepped forward.
The elemental sat down. Juan silently motioned for O'Malley to follow. “Well, this is a bit of a surprise. We’ve had you listed as missing for some time now.”
“Missing and wanted.” asked Richard, cutting to the chase.
“Oh yes, Joshua would love to get his hands on you after all that happened with your brother and his wife. Joshua blames me in part, seeing as how I convinced him to let you sign on with the Swords in the first place. You betrayed us, Richard. You betrayed all of us.” Juan sat down. “So what’s to stop me from throwing you in irons and shipping you back to New Belfast on the first dropship I can find? I’d be back in Joshua’s good graces if I did that.”
“That’s a good question, Juan.” Said Richard. “What does stop you?”
“Curiosity. Why are you here, with Antoine Anderson of the Babeski LIC in tow?”
“Bryceland” said Richard. "3022. Not long after you were born."
“I was two when my Father died on that world. Trying to repel a Draconis Combine raid. What’s your point?"
"Victor's making a military alliance with the Combine, Juan. In '39, your brother and sister on Quentin."
"You don't need to give me reasons to hate the snakes, Richard. You know full well I do."
"According to the Archon Prince, we have to be friends now." said Richard in a mocking sing-song voice.
“The Clans changed a lot of things.” Retorted Juan.
“Not everything.” Said Richard grimly. “We are not so different, you and I. You call what I did to the Star Swords a betrayal? So it was, but for good cause. I did it for my brother, for my family.”
“Whole lot of good it did you. Robert is dead. Joshua killed him.”
“What do you do for your family, Juan?”
“My family is dead also.” Said Juan flatly. “I can do nothing more for them.”
“Dead at the hands of the Draconis Combine.”
Juan shook his head. "I can’t bring them back.”
“You could send a message though. A message to those who destroyed your family and countless others. You have a Battlemech battalion, filled with Clan technology machines. You'd make one hell of a statement."
“What are you talking about? Are you asking me to launch an unauthorized attack on the Combine with my battalion? Do you take me for a fool, Rich? Even if I could bloody the Combine’s nose, and I probably could, Joshua and Victor would have my head on a platter.”
"You'll not be alone.” Said Antoine, speaking for the first time. “There are others, like-minded. Determined to take war to the Combine before Victor forges his little alliance. We were not meant to be friends with the snakes. There’s been too much blood. If Victor will not see the threat they still pose, then we will force his hand."
“I’ve fought the Clans. I already know which is the greater threat.”
“Are they?” said Antoine. “We turn our backs on the Combine to fight the Clans, strip our borders, shift units to the Clan front. Do you think we can truly trust the Dragon to just leave our defenseless borders in peace? He will never have a better time to strike. This alliance is folly. You know it, and so do we.”
"What do you want me for?"
"You already know the answer to that."
"I could not promise my entire unit, even if I was in agreement with this. The risk is great. Joshua is already angry with me over you, Richard. If I’m caught, it’s a firing squad for me.”
“You must do what you feel is right. But you know the nature of the Combine and its people. You’ve seen what they did to your family. Imagine that on a widespread scale. We can stop that, if you’ll help us.”
"I will think on it, Richard."
Next Chapter
Location Classified
Somewhere in the Free Worlds League
10 September 3052
Captain-General Thomas Marik marched quickly down the hall towards the conference room. The scars he once received in an assassination attempt made the leader of the Free Worlds League into a sinister ghoul-like figure, but despite his appearance, he was no more evil or good than any other head of state. His main concern was his own nation and throne, and be damned anyone or anything else.
And it was to address a threat to those that he had come here.
The guards opened the doors to the conference room for him. He marched swiftly inside as the assembled group, or at least most of them, stood in respect. Thomas ignored those who did not and took his own seat.
"Report." he barked. "What is the current news?"
Michael A Phillips, one of the heads of SAFE, the League's intelligence agency, leaned forward. "Our operatives have confirmed the presence of Ardan Sortek and Morgan Hasek-Davion on Luthien, sire. Negotiations have begun."
"Do we know for certain what these negotiations are about?"
"We do not have confirmation." said Captain Andy Leake, an aide to Phillips. "With the death of Hanse Davion, young Prince Victor is eager to carve his own mark upon the Inner Sphere. So it's a safe bet he's going to try to solidify his ties with the Draconis Combine." Prince Davion had died from a heart attack within days of the end of the Clan War, leaving control of half of the Federated Commonwealth in the hands of his young son. While the Lyran half was still under the control of Victor’s mother, Melissa Steiner, Victor’s ascension was an unpredictable element.
"Do you suspect a military alliance?" asked Thomas.
"Yes, mi'lord. I do." said Phillips. "Giving Davion the freedom to strip his Draconis border and inward reaches of troops. Where he will put these troops, none can say, but we cannot discount the possibility that he will use the 15 year truce period to attempt a conquest of the League."
"How stable is the Clan Truce?"
"Too early to say." said Colonel Ragnar Smythe, a mercenary commander in League employ. "My regiment is posted to the Clan front on the Lyran world of Babeski. We've had no problems with Clan units, which seem to be regrouping or repairing themselves after the Battle of Tukayyid."
"If the Truce holds, Captain-General," said General Masterson, commander of the League's armies, "you can expect Victor to eye us. Particularly if it is a military alliance with Kurita that he seeks. That will place three of the old Successor States as firmly bonded allies, versus us and the Capellans. Our alliance with them is not so firm, nor do we want it so. Sun-tzu is dangerous, and he eyes the throne of Atreus with vulture’s eyes."
"He is a tool, nothing more." said Thomas. "But I agree. He is a volatile one at best. We must seek new allies elsewhere. To this end, I have invited two guests." He glanced at the door guards to admitted two people.
"Both you should recognize. The Precentor has brought to us news concerning a schism occurring within ComStar. The new order being formed by Precentor Martial Anastastius Focht is resented and hated by more traditional minded members of ComStar. They have splintered off, bringing with them military forces, technicians, and invaluable support. They are now known as Word of Blake. I have offered them safety on Gibson. They will aid in the defense of the League.
"The Duchess, well, let's just say that she has hatched a very risky plan, using stealth and subterfuge that I would more quickly expect from Capellans than Lyrans. By using known separatist and anti-government organizations within the Federated Commonwealth, she intends to launch attacks against key FedCom and Draconis worlds. Already, she has secured the loyalty of several Battlemech regiments, both House and mercenary, who are known for their hatred of the Combine. We will support her effort with repair supplies.
Thomas Marik leaned forward. "If her plan succeeds, we will splinter the Federated Commonwealth in two. Victor will not have an alliance, he will have an interstellar war. And from that, we will profit greatly."
Internal Security Force Headquarters
New Samarkand
Galedon District, Draconis Combine
14 September 3052
Subhash Indrahar walked feebly back to his chair. He collapsed into it, hiding behind the massive mahogany desk that decorated his office. He was old, older than God himself it seemed. But his four score years had not yet robbed him of the sharpness of his mind. Nor would he allow any to think his body feeble if he could avoid it.
A chime sounded, indicating the arrival of a guest. "Enter." he barked in Japanese, the native tongue of the Combine.
A beautiful woman entered with two escorts. All three were dressed in the jet black field uniform of the DEST, or Draconis Elite Strike Team. The leader was mid-thirties, Oriental features, but with striking pale blue eyes. Jutting below on sleeve of her uniform, one could see a flash of chrome, indicating a prosthetic limb of some fashion. Her escorts were two of her mechwarriors, given to her by the Director for this operation. She knew their names, but little more: Gwen Laidir and Javier Libereux.
"Oyaho gozimas, Director Indrahar-sama." said the leader. "You have orders, ne?"
"Yuri Noriko. Born 3019 on Luthien. Father, Russian descent, Tai-i, 1st Genyosha regiment. Mother, Japanese, civilian. Joined ISF in 3037 at age 18. Trapped and injured behind Clan lines on Turtle Bay. Escaped via smuggler ship. Current assignment: Commander, 1st DEST Battlemech regiment." Indrahar rattled off Yuri's credentials, memorized and not read.
"Hai, Director." said Yuri.
"How are your mechwarriors doing, Tai-sa?"
"Training has completed. By all accounts, we show to be rated an elite regiment."
"Excellent. How would you and your troops think of a training exercise?"
"The question is irrelevant, sir. We do as you wish."
"Correct answer, Tai-sa. Do you know of this man?"
A viewscreen on the wall flickered to life, displaying the image of a portly Arabian man.
"Abu Ali Akbar." said Yuri. "He's a smuggler. We have used his services in the past to run guns back and forth behind the Clan border."
"You have met him, ne?"
"Hai. It was on his ship that I escaped Turtle Bay."
"We acquired his services to relay a courier to our units on Wolcott. He did not arrive on Wolcott as scheduled. We have reason to suspect treason, that he somehow eliminated the courier and obtained his package. We have located Akbar on Chandler, where he was forced to land after failing to obtain jumpship transport from there into Rasalhague. He is grounded for the time being. Our field operatives have confirmed that he is seeking mercenary bodyguards and a ship that will take him out of the Combine. Already, LIC operatives have been alerted to his presence and have also arrived on Chandler. Until he has an escape route figured out, he’s gone to ground and has become nearly impossible to track. Your job will be to prevent that package from reaching Lyran space. Use any means necessary. Your departure will be immediate. Assemble a strike team of one company."
"What manner of opposition may we face?"
"His mercenaries. He cannot afford more than a lance or so. The Lyran intelligence operatives may prove a problem as well. You have your orders. Begin your preparations. Dismissed."
Evcilier
Tamar March, Federated Commonwealth
5 October 3052
Evcilier was a largely desert world that had the nostalgic feel of the "Old West." Lacking more modern building supplies, buildings were made of wood and resembled by both coincidence and design the typical structures one might find in a Western holovid.
This atmosphere made Richard O'Malley feel somewhat out-of-place. That was not the only thing that annoyed him. He had not been on Northwind two weeks before Antoine called in his favor. Thus, the two of them were now on Evcilier, dangerously close to the very people Richard had been so determined to escape just months before.
After the success of Operation: Counterstrike, the three battalions of the Swords split up to garrison the three worlds around New Belfast. First remained on New Belfast, Third went to Twycross, and Fourth came here to Evcilier. It had been a prudent move. Although battered and beaten by the ComGuards on Tukayyid in the battle that had forced a “truce” onto the Clans, they remained busy. Already, the Falcons had re-conquered two worlds they had lost in the final wave of Operation: Counterstrike. But they also seemed determined to go out of their way to avoid the worlds the Star Swords garrisoned. New Belfast had sobered the Jade Falcons and they were not eager to repeat that battle.
With Fourth now guarding Evcilier, that meant Juan Miranda was here. And it was Juan Miranda that Antoine and Richard had come to see.
Richard marched inside the hotel with Antoine and was immediately blocked by a massive Elemental soldier. Although sans his powerful cybernetic armor, the giant was more than three feet taller than Richard and nearly twice as wide.
"No civilians." said the elemental curtly.
"I wish to speak with Kommandant Miranda. Where is he?"
"The Kommandant takes no visitors."
"He'll see me."
"At ease, Martin." barked a voice. Juan Miranda stepped forward.
The elemental sat down. Juan silently motioned for O'Malley to follow. “Well, this is a bit of a surprise. We’ve had you listed as missing for some time now.”
“Missing and wanted.” asked Richard, cutting to the chase.
“Oh yes, Joshua would love to get his hands on you after all that happened with your brother and his wife. Joshua blames me in part, seeing as how I convinced him to let you sign on with the Swords in the first place. You betrayed us, Richard. You betrayed all of us.” Juan sat down. “So what’s to stop me from throwing you in irons and shipping you back to New Belfast on the first dropship I can find? I’d be back in Joshua’s good graces if I did that.”
“That’s a good question, Juan.” Said Richard. “What does stop you?”
“Curiosity. Why are you here, with Antoine Anderson of the Babeski LIC in tow?”
“Bryceland” said Richard. "3022. Not long after you were born."
“I was two when my Father died on that world. Trying to repel a Draconis Combine raid. What’s your point?"
"Victor's making a military alliance with the Combine, Juan. In '39, your brother and sister on Quentin."
"You don't need to give me reasons to hate the snakes, Richard. You know full well I do."
"According to the Archon Prince, we have to be friends now." said Richard in a mocking sing-song voice.
“The Clans changed a lot of things.” Retorted Juan.
“Not everything.” Said Richard grimly. “We are not so different, you and I. You call what I did to the Star Swords a betrayal? So it was, but for good cause. I did it for my brother, for my family.”
“Whole lot of good it did you. Robert is dead. Joshua killed him.”
“What do you do for your family, Juan?”
“My family is dead also.” Said Juan flatly. “I can do nothing more for them.”
“Dead at the hands of the Draconis Combine.”
Juan shook his head. "I can’t bring them back.”
“You could send a message though. A message to those who destroyed your family and countless others. You have a Battlemech battalion, filled with Clan technology machines. You'd make one hell of a statement."
“What are you talking about? Are you asking me to launch an unauthorized attack on the Combine with my battalion? Do you take me for a fool, Rich? Even if I could bloody the Combine’s nose, and I probably could, Joshua and Victor would have my head on a platter.”
"You'll not be alone.” Said Antoine, speaking for the first time. “There are others, like-minded. Determined to take war to the Combine before Victor forges his little alliance. We were not meant to be friends with the snakes. There’s been too much blood. If Victor will not see the threat they still pose, then we will force his hand."
“I’ve fought the Clans. I already know which is the greater threat.”
“Are they?” said Antoine. “We turn our backs on the Combine to fight the Clans, strip our borders, shift units to the Clan front. Do you think we can truly trust the Dragon to just leave our defenseless borders in peace? He will never have a better time to strike. This alliance is folly. You know it, and so do we.”
"What do you want me for?"
"You already know the answer to that."
"I could not promise my entire unit, even if I was in agreement with this. The risk is great. Joshua is already angry with me over you, Richard. If I’m caught, it’s a firing squad for me.”
“You must do what you feel is right. But you know the nature of the Combine and its people. You’ve seen what they did to your family. Imagine that on a widespread scale. We can stop that, if you’ll help us.”
"I will think on it, Richard."
Next Chapter
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