With a lever big enough I can move the world{BattleTech CYOA]

I have a slight backlog, so you all get it.

With a lever big enough I can move the world

A Battletech FanFiction

By

Andrew “MageOhki” Norris.

Chapter 4​

Adjust the Lever.

It is not often said how much work a senior officer has to do. My previous life’s experience with military service indicated that the higher in rank you went, the more you did during your working hours, and those hours tended to grow. The more high tempo the unit was or needed to be, the more work and more hours you put in. It was amusing in a way to realize even an eon later, some things never change.

From the journals and notes of Kikyo Onishi, New Avalon Press, 3291 AD, as part of the “Century of Chaos: The Movers and Shakers.” series.

See Chapter 1 for disclaimers and other information
I would like to thank Drakensis for kibitzing and Editing, JG/Joe Gunnarson (Of Whateley fame) for the same, Valles, Case/Fosfor, Minako/Scratx for kibitizing. Y'all made this go a LOT faster than the first two, thank you. Psyckosama deserves a special shoutout for helping reinspire, some basic visualization and idea throwing.

Kikyo’s Office, Dropship Xanadu, Winterfell Dropship port, New Avalon, Early Morning, Jan 9th, 3015

“Some things never change.” I muttered as I flicked through the papers Rayanne had left for me to observe, plus the night duty officer of the unit. Two enlisted arrested for drunk and disorderly, receipt for winter parkas, an request to use one of the Mules as a temporary bar and R/R center. I put a note on that last one, today was the day Hanse and I would finalize what he got and what I kept. If possible, I’d keep a few of the SLDF mobile recreation vehicles that we had.

The Star League had apparently decided in the build up to the coup, that their troops needed secure rest and recreation areas, and having mobile deployable bars, brothels, and entertainment setups for movies, plays, sports, would be a good thing. We had a fair bit of them, and while I knew that Hanse wanted some of them to look at the electronics, at the very least, I wanted to keep a few for their original purposes. I still boggled at a 200 ton land crawler RV meant for a SLDF Major general, but… My original self thought it was a bit plain.

“An hour PT, a pair of hours in martial arts, three hours in mech training, three more hours in field and tabletop exercises, two hours in mingling with the troops, two hours reading and learning all the paperwork needed and laws regarding… for a normal person, that’d leave 3 hours.” I snorted.

“But since I’m able to run with only 4 hours of sleep, two more hours of working with our recruiters and an hour of shooting for the ‘Real Mercenaries.’” The film crew had stayed, and actually started working on that. It also helped that they got themselves fully vetted by MIIO, and even hired for a record of what we were doing, and the Argo mission. Of course, MIIO and DMI had added a few people, to keep certain things off the film, but that was to be expected.

Kelia walked into the office, while I was still wearing my robe loosely, with a carafe of coffee.

“Bless you.” I poured myself one, fixing it to preference. Taking a sip I sighed. “I know I can operate like this forever, if I want, but why do I want to? Coffee... You are my only friend. You are the only one who understands what it is like, you are the only thing worthy of getting up for in the mornings!”

Kelia snorted. “That would be sad, if true, considering what other habits you’ve had, and are trying to change.” I snorted at that. Some weren’t easy to change, and some were biological. I had managed to restrain certain aspects, but I could tell it would be a challenge to keep it up, and a trial of self control and willpower that I might lose on occasion.

“Laugh it up. It’s not like I haven’t had too little to do. Putting aside the fact you don’t sign paychecks for your lover, or lovers, you know the amount of work I’ve been putting in.”

Kelia nodded. “And it doesn’t help that you push longer and harder than anyone else. We’re not on a reshoot you know, nor are we being pushed to shoot scenes faster to save location money, girl. You own the site, you set the schedule. You don’t have to work yourself into a grave, or work yourself ‘til you explode in a violent string of parties and orgies.”

I snorted. “If only. Military operations don’t work that way, Kelia. We have to be *ready* to go as of 2/1, I might be able to push it to 2/15, but that’d be the latest.” I shook my head. “Prince Davion really is interested in the Argo, and given I know what it is… faster, harder, better.”

Kelia snickered. “Isn’t that what you tell your lovers?”

I snorted. “As if I’d tell.”

“I have listened, Kikyo. Doubt that’s changed.” I blushed slightly, but shooed her off, as I undid my sash, and looked at my folded workout clothing. “It’s time to do morning PT.”

“Ugh.” Kelia’s snort of disgust, was swifty replaced by a giggle and a smirk. “I do love how the majority of these people can’t keep up with us. They really don’t get how much work we do, to stay in shape, as actresses do they?”

I shook my head, as I got dressed. “Not really. To be fair, we know how little they know about an actor’s or actresses’ daily life, just like most of our coworkers have little clue about theirs.” I shrugged. “And I’ll even be more fair and admit, I’m at the extreme end of physical workouts for our profession, and that most military units are harder than this one, but since they spent three months in tin cans… they need to bring their edge back.”

“Uh-huh. Excuses.” Kelia stole a cup of my coffee in a styrofoam cup, to my glare and reaching for a knife. “Bye bye!”

Before my friend and now acting steward and secretary could get stabbed, she was out the door.

FSS Camelot, Winterfell Dropship Port, New Avalon, Late Morning.

Across the table from me, Hanse thumped the papers I had finished signing, he had finished signing, and two witnesses witnessed. “I’m rather pleased.” Hanse finally said, “I thought the final negotiations would be a bit more drawn out. I hope you don’t mind but that was the signal for my people to start… well, collecting.” He grinned roguishly.

“I don’t, I had informed mine that the moment we signed, I expected brown uniformed locusts to descend. And not the Battlemechs.” My smile took the implied sting out of the words, and he responded with rich laughter.

Gry nodded. “With your permission?” He looked at both of us, and I nodded a moment after Hanse did, and he turned to Melidna Davion with a raised eyebrow, and she grinned. They departed to complete the sale, and he leaned back.

“I honestly admit, this was far more painless than I thought it’d be.” In a more serious tone, he added. “You could have held to the letter of the deal, but were very reasonable on everything I wished to change, though I was hoping…” His smile indicated that it was a vain hope and he knew it. “That you’d settle for twenty-five percent of the jumpship and dropship tonnage, and paying cash, instead of the fifteen percent of tonnage.”

I shook my head. “Now, now, there’s a fair exchange, and then there’s putting me on the table and taking me with great vigor, against my will.” I raised an eyebrow. “The twenty-five percent would have been that, and you know it.”

“And would it have been against your will?” His eyebrow quirked a bit roughly reminding me of the comment the time we met in Bun Bun’s cockpit.

“You said the third date, and I will hold you to that, Sirrah!” I raised my chin and sniffed dismissively. “You haven’t even done a first date, and are now discussing wild passion on the table? What type of cad are you?”

Hanse for a long moment, was nonplussed, then his lips started to twitch, finally breaking out in peals of laughter, as he fell off his chair. Finally he got up and settled back down. Shaking his head, he looked at me, a smile on his face. “Well then! A cad I cannot be!”

I blinked. What the hell was he saying?

“A gentleman I am, and as you say, the third date it will be! Therefore, the first date must begin!’ His eyebrows rose, though a look in his eyes indicated that he would not accept a decline.

I skidded to a halt mentally, but rebooted. “As you say, Sir, as you say, it must begin.”

Hanse smiled again, a genuine one, but sobered quickly. “But, not quite yet. We do need to settle details. Team Banzai has agreed, and Yvonne is putting together a training battalion out of Albion and a few other cadets who are ready to go, while Ran is quietly alerting units, and spreading rumors about why he’s going off in durance.” He shook his head. “It was his suggestion, to draw less attention to the mission.”

I nodded. “I’d rather go on 2/15, for lift, but… should be able with a bit of work to hit the first, but it’ll be a fragile-as-spun-glass unit.” I shook my head.

“Needs must. At least the aerospace regiment won’t be?” His eyebrow raised, and I nodded. That was the only bright spot, the pilots had trained hard on the way to New Avalon, and hadn’t let up. While not an organized regiment, yet, they were far closer to that, and unlike ground troops, could train up while in space. They’d be close enough.

I shrugged, and spoke after a moment of thinking. “I’d say at least good enough for them. And you want me to provide transportation, too, I suspect.” I drummed my fingers. Nine Fortresses, four Vengeances, two Titans, six Overlords, six Triumphs, and a clutch of other dropships…

“It’d help, yes, though Team Banzai will only need a ring to transport their Excalibur.”.

I looked upwards as I thought about the numbers. “Not counting cargo ships, we’re talking about 160 mechs, not counting support mechs, call that another 80, right?” Hanse nodded as my eyes met his. “Tanks and similar vees, hmm.” I tilted my head for a second. “Call that roughly 140 to 160 heavy vehicle bays, at least for your forces, and 50 or so of mine for combat.” I nodded once. “About the same support, mostly trucks and like, so they can go semi packed as cargo, but rather not, and about a dozen or so of the super heavy class bays will be needed so if the Argo takes significant time to lift, if nothing else, the troops have a bit more space to spread out.”

Hanse nodded. “Infantry in effect is roughly from my finger calculations about ninety platoons of combat, about forty-five to fifty support, not counting the 700 or so technical support I’m hopefully quietly assembling.” I nodded again.

“Call that, if we load my refitted Mammoths correctly, four each of my combined arms dropships, since they’ll have arty on them, plus can carry infantry, tanks and mechs at once, with maybe an Overlord or two., though I doubt it, since both Fortresses and the Excalibur carry twelve mechs, while the Colossus will carry forty, so a combined total of 252, if my math is right. Adding in the infantry, all combat troops should easily fit in on those, as well as all combat vehicles, all things equal. With the refitted Mammoths, stuffing in everyone, with two additional Monarchs? Easy.”

He thought about it. “That matches my numbers, more or less, yes. In fact, I don’t think you even should bring along the Monarchs, what’s the need?” I tilted my head, nodding. “That’ll mean, counting your assault dropships and one of your carrier groups, the ability to bring along an additional... “ He thought for a moment, running the numbers in his head was easy compared to his daily budget concerns. “Call it fifteen dropships, though where I’ll find that many cargo lifters is a pain in itself.” He shakes his head ruefully.

I shake my head in negation. “Fourteen since Xanadu comes along, to play up the ‘non seriousness of the mission.” He grins at that. “And I’d like to take along the rest of my carriers.”

He tilted his head for a moment. “Why?”

“So we can stuff all the fighter bays full. Figuring on Banzai’s twenty, my sixty-six, and your forces integrated forty, that’ll leave give or take another 212 bays we can fill with additional ASF. Who’d dare attack that force.”

“I’ll agree to find 198, and that’ll leave a few empty bays for long term repair, or extra storage.” He thought, then shrugged. “It is easier to put together an aerospace squadron here, and get them to you en route, than it is to actually find fourteen heavy cargo ships, I’ll admit.” He grins slightly. “Nine are a bit easier, I’ll admit.”

I grinned. “Plus, by focusing just on a certain number of ships, refitting enough to go on 2/7 is doable. More?” Hanse grimaced in agreement. He brightened, however at the thought of those refits.

“That should do.” He paused. “As talking about refits, can I ask what you are thinking vis a vis Xanadu?” I blinked. I asked for a refit of my personal dropship, that cut the part and pool deck to half their size, and put them together, freeing up tonnage. As well as modifications. Adding a full trauma center, removing half the ultra luxury and luxury cabins, adding four mech bays, and two ASF bays… while removing two small craft, and finally adding a Super … ah.

“You’re referring to the cubicle for Summer Breeze?” I played with a bit of hair as he snickered.

“That would be it, yes. I could say you’re indulging in your Lyran side, but that doesn’t feel right, not with everything else.” He shook his head. “I will admit the FSN and AFFS are looking intently at your Mammoths. They like the potential they see there.”

“But what if I want people to think that…” I smiled at my thoughts on Xanadu. “As for the Mammoths, agreed. I won’t say it’ll be a Paul or Peter situation for most people, but…” Hanse’s nod indicated he was quite aware of what I was implying. The AFFS was always short of dropships.

Hanse smiled at the reply regarding the Xanadu. “Sneaky, I like that. As you already have your first two year contract nailed, and depending on how things go, may end up with a longer one… Indeed, the FSN would love to just pay you for your dropships.” His attempt to acquire them again, bemused me, and I didn’t respond to the bait, except with a slight smirk.

“It does help.” I shrugged. “It won’t last long, but who knows? It might last long enough to win one or two battles.”

“Worth it in that case, yes.” He nodded. “Oh, while I’m thinking about it, the list of people you were hunting for, MIIO picked up. They’re having some success, Miss Braun was of course known, and we have her unit listed, and in fact, they’re on Hoff now.” I winced, though it wasn’t absolute proof. “A Miss Blackwing, I believe? From the Outworlds?” I nodded. “She’s with Faceless Soldiers Squadron, LLC, her biological father’s unit, a count of the Outworlds. They’re actually heading to New Valenca on a high priority high profit contract, for the Dragoons, after getting royally screwed by the Dragon, to the point that bluntly, they’re effectively done, without a sweetheart contract bigger than what Wolf gave them. As for other names, no, no real joy on those. Not yet. Why?”

I shrugged. “Wouldn’t you recruit a Solaris Champion? And, redhead, might as well go with a theme.”

Hanse nods at that. “And Miss Blackwing is similar, too. Well.” He nodded once “I have a spare Tramp, I’ll contract them out to you as training cadre, and speed them to a meeting point. Though I would be curious exactly how she came to your attention.”

I thought about it, and decided not to bring up old wounds. But… “I presume Dr. Banzai gave you an ethically allowed briefing on my and Case’s health status.”

“To some extent, yes.” Hanse was puzzled, where this is going.

“Case has the same neurological structures you do to some extent, no?” I watched as Hanse grew still. “And if I had to bet, Morgan Kell, Patrick Kell, Yorginia Kurita… and Asha Blackwing. I will not tell you how I know this at this time. But I’d bet on it.”

“... I am almost tempted to promise you anything to get that information on how you knew. But, you are implying something. Spell it out.”

“Phantom Mech. It’s rumors, myths, legends based on Morgan’s recent duel… but Ian showed it first.” I spoke quietly. “It’s not rumors. I’m not precisely sure what it is, and I can for a fact say it’s not related to the rumors about DEST abilities. But there’s scientific proof.”

“I… see.” Before Hanse could continue, I broke in rapidly.

“Don’t. Don’t try to activate it. I don’t know what happened in your brother’s last battle, but what happened to Morgan afterwards, shows it has severe psychological effects, and well, Case isn’t too tightly wrapped as we speak.” I shook my head, pulling out the pen I used to keep my hair in a bun.

“I… see, again.” Hanse drew out a breath. “We will have a discussion on how you knew this, and other things, correct?”

“When I can prove the reason as the most possible, and the only one that explains everything, yes.” I nodded. “But…”

Hanse nodded, shaking off the seriousness. “I have a Battlemaster to choose!” He grinned.

“Actually, you have a combat suit to try on and get fitted for. My compliments.” I raised my hand. “You cannot refuse a lady’s gift, now, can you? Without being a cad?” I grinning.

“Well, in that case…” Hanse smiled and held out his arm. “You will have to tell me where you got such an interest in World War Two history, though American? Really?”

I smiled, as we discussed the naming schemes of my ships.

“Oh, it’s an interesting period. And the show the Americans put on?” I raised an eyebrow, and Hanse laughed as we walked towards the hatch to the rest of the dropship port.

Restaurant Brennan’s of New Avalon, New Avalon, New Avalon, Evening.

Hanse allowed the maitre d’ to take my coat, and admired me in the simple, but deceptive dark green bandage dress. As we were escorted to a table, I noted that to my amused surprise, all the guests should look like they were wearing uniforms, and First Davion ones at that. It wasn’t hard, once you spotted one of them, the rest became easier to spot, and while the arrangements looked normal, and would pass most people, anyone who studied the body language, or looked for thin wires, would have caught them. I was drawn out of my musings by Hanse’s comment. “Melinda told me about this place, opened by a chief cook from the original one in New Orleans, on Terra of course.” I blinked, but he continued. “I’m immensely curious about it. Outside a few worlds near Terra, Cajun cooking is not really known.”

I thought about it and smiled slightly. “It should be an experience, then. Though I hope it’s authentic, not tourist.” His eyebrow rose.

I thought about it for a moment and smiled suddenly. “I’ve heard from someone born on Fianna, there’s two types of Cajun cooking, what they really eat, and what they sucker Tourists to eat.” Hanse laughed at that, as we reached our table.

“By any chance, did he tell you the difference?” Hanse pulled out my chair, and allowed me to settle in, as he did the gentlemanly thing, and held it while I sat.

“Apparently, blackened was a thing for tourists, and realistically, while spices were used, the tourists got set on fire, outside crayfish boils.” I smiled inwardly. Crawfish etouffee here I come. “He whipped up some jambalaya, and it wasn’t spicy at all. Couldn’t do Gumbo, not enough time, and etouffee was too difficult, for what we had to cook with, and he didn’t trust the shellfish.”

Hanse raised an eyebrow. “A shoot?” I nodded. “Well, then.” He opened the menu, raising an eyebrow at me, when I didn’t open mine.

“Well… I take it you have an idea of what you want to try?” Hanse waited for an answer.

“Crawfish etouffee, if they have it.” I nodded. Hanse scanned the menu, and smiled.

“That does make it easy, and well. Bon Chance, non?” Hanse’s french came out with a New Avalon accent, while my response in the same, came out with an accent that would be expected of someone from Houma, Louisiana.

“Oui. Tis only right.” I grinned. “Fianna apparently had a lot of Cajuns settle, and they kept the accent, as well as the cooking.” I responded to his slight smile.

Hanse thought about it for a second. “A talent for mimicry, helps with acting, I would suppose?”

“It doesn't hurt, no.” Before I could expand on that thought, the waiter arrived.

“Two crawfish etouffee, please, and the appropriate wine.” Hanse stated.

“Very good sir.” the Waiter nodded, and departed. I shook my head slightly amused, the two artfully curled loose locks along my cheekbones moving a bit.

“Well, stuffy waiter down, I would say.” Hanse’s response was a bit bemused.

I couldn’t help but snicker a bit at that but sobered. “I’ve always thought that Cajuns were a bit friendly.” I tilted my head. “Maybe he’s trying to be what you expect?’

Hanse’s lips frowned a bit. “I’d be hoping for the experience, at a restaurant like this, wouldn’t you?”

“Oh, of course, but waiters seek to maximize their tips by giving the customers what they think would be good service for the customer.” I smiled a bit crookedly. “I’d suspect you’d get more of the real service if the First Guards weren’t assuring them of profit.”

“... I concede that point. Though I’ll have to admit, not many would have caught it, they are good at blending in.” Hanse’s lips tugged in a rueful smile. I nodded agreeing. “Just their luck at having an observant person aware of what to look for.” He clearly shifted the subject, feeling it was a bit too close to ‘work’. “Do you get the same type of response from waiters and the like?”

I thought about it, both lives. “Less than you’d think, considering how often I’m in the entertainment sections, but more than I’d prefer, to be honest.”

Hanse leaned forward, clasping his hands. “What is it like being an actress? Not the glamour, the actual job?”
I laughed. “It’s a job. One of the pitfalls of being an actor or actress, or director or writer, is you make fantasy. You have to keep that in mind. I’d go farther, and say too many of my fellows forget that reality is stranger, and we’re portraying images for people to escape into. Not real life.” I shook my head, and with his prompting, expanded on what a typical day on a shoot was like. And what I did to keep in shape, and set up. His eyes were amused, and attentive.

Before we could segue on, and I pick his brains about mechwarrior status, the food arrived. While the wine was excellent, the etouffee? Well, they were trying for a blonde roux, then decided red pepper was the way to go. I quickly sipped at my water, to Hanse’s gulps.

I looked at the etouffee and at Hanse who was looking at his as if it was a Kuritan he wanted to stab. “I’m afraid this isn’t Etouffee.”

“... I’m not going to argue, and have a pointed question for Melinda. How about we find real food? Not only is it a bit too spicy for the shellfish or wine, I’ll be fair, I expected something different.”

“Like?” I didn’t mention real food and real sizes was something I’d be down for. As he should know, I could and did eat around 4,000 calories a day, to fuel myself. “And I’ll be honest, I think they’re trading off the name and Terran link, not their sizes.”

“I happen to know a place near the Palace, it’s a bit of a hole in the wall, but they don’t stint. Shall we?” Hanse grinned. I smiled back.

“That sounds wonderful.” I couldn’t help but have a real smile at that, as Hanse made our apologies, and the smile turned slightly impish as the guards seemed to freeze in confusion. “If we ever make it to Fianna, we’ll have to try real Cajun food and report back.”

Hanse’s eyes clouded a bit, then smiled. “You’re a bit more likely than I, so I’ll hold you to that report.” He grinned. “I refuse to believe that was the height of cooking for one of the most social towns of the old United States!” My impish grin and nod agreed with him.

The rest of the night went much better. Hamburgers, fries, and talk over technology and battlemechs, with Hanse holding out on some of the more esoteric options, and what he joked about in movies, with me pointing out why we did that, made for a much more pleasant night than a stuffy tourist trap.



Kikyo’s cabin, Dropship Xanadu, Winterfell Dropship Port, Late Night.

I was ambushed before I could even finish opening my hatch to my cabin.

“Kiiiki.” Kelia drawled as she pounced. Her demand for information was obvious, and I tilted my head.

“Don’t I pay your salary?” I undid my hair letting it fall out of the twirl, as I started unzipping the dress, muttering fell things about zippers.

‘Yes, but we’re friends… sooo…” Her lewd grin answered what she wanted. “How was he?”

“A perfect gentleman, at least for the second half of the night, in a small hole in the wall.” I answered. “He seemed interested in how acting really goes for us professionals, listened intently, and when I gave him a chance to talk about what he did before getting chained to the throne, he gave plenty of good advice on the ins and outs of mechwarriorhood. I really enjoyed the night. He said, and I think he meant it, he did too. Some good jokes from both of us.”

“... I meant in bed, though you don’t look ravished.” She frowned slightly, as I finished removing my heels.

“I wasn’t. I did say he was a perfect gentleman, did I not.”

Kelia’s head titled. “Kiki… you didn’t bed him? I mean… I know he trips most, if not all your buttons. And you’re… well, I don’t say easy, but putting aside the subtle transactional relationships you tend to have, you are very much want, take, have. And let’s be honest, any man who at least didn’t make a serious pass at you after a good dinner, I’d wonder about their sexuality” I blushed at that.

“He’s a Prince. He can’t just go hopping into beds.” I shook my head. “This isn’t Canopus, or Solaris, or Herotius.”

“Sure, but still.” She paused. “Kikyo… are you making a play? I mean, we all joked about bagging his brother, then him, but no one was serious, even you about it.”

I blinked in confusion. “Uh… what?” I honestly didn’t understand what she was saying.

“I mean, as in, you are trying to be the Princess-Consort.” Kelia’s look was a teacher explaining something to someone dim.

“I wouldn’t want the position.” I shook my head. “I’ll be fair, his lover?” I finally admitted that much, that the body did control the brain here. “Without question I’d indulge. But to be his other half in all his duties?” Part of me, the original part thought it sounded good. The original part was not amused, and the merged part… knew a simple fact. Can’t happen. I was a party girl with the reputation, and now a wanna be merc, not suitable for the First Prince, and it’d block me from doing what I really wanted to do. There were too many worlds to be saved. “I can’t.”

“I’d say if the night went as you say, and with the way he looked at you, when you weren’t looking? You might have to rethink can’t.” Kelia picked up the dress and stockings. “I’ll just put this away, as you think about it. Go take a shower.” She suddenly smiled. “I think a cold one is just what you need.”

I blushed again, knowing what she was referring to. Hanse had of course, made a polite pass, as expected, I rejected it, in our dance. My body on the other hand… did not approve of the rejection. “Yeah. I better.” With that, I put action to words. Though I knew it wouldn't be quite enough to calm the feeling.

Converted Warehouse, Winterfell Dropship Port, Midday, Jan 10th, 3015

Carefully concealing my feelings, I was the last one to enter the room, noting the Prince, and his Champion. I had confirmed with Aiko it was Justin Allard, who picked her up and moved her to the palace, after Ichigo had been put on heel to toe rotation, by orders from above. He had been even apologetic about it to her and Ichigo, but pointed out the risks of Aiko in the small house on the Heavy Guard’s base.

I quietly muttered under my breath. “Unsecure my ass.” Though to determined operators, likely true. Justin’s explanation of the Prince being concerned about her safety and use on me as a lever, was confirmed by him, and his admittance that he wasn’t blind it could be used as a lever on me by him, but… his point was very frank. “Why would I? You’re doing at least eighty percent of what I’d want you to do without it, why ruin a perfectly good business relationship to get the remaining, when I can either be patient or find your price without breeding discontent.”

While Ichigo’s own digging had confirmed it had come from the Fox’s Den, aka the command post of House Davion, my feeling and Ichigo’s as well, given that if it was Hanse, it’d sour loyalty of Ichigo to him, something Hanse wasn’t inclined to do, on top of my dislike… So it was Yvonne behind the move. Justin when asked by Ichigo wouldn’t confirm it, but would say that Hanse hadn’t given any orders about personnel to Ran, at all.

I was pulled out of my fuming about that situation by Hanse’s voice, which derailed my thoughts on Aiko’s situation, and her complaints she couldn’t go anywhere without a dozen guards. His rich tenor however cut though that irritation.

“Welcome, senior officers of Operation MEDEA. The recovery of the Dropship Argo, if it is where intelligence reports it to be, and exploration of immediate locations near it, which the SLS Argo should have.” He looked around and nodded once. “Overall authority for the mission is in Marshal Felsner’s as overall forces commander, while strategic direction authority as well as go and no go on various aspects of the mission is in a joint group of Felsner, General Onishi and Colonel Dr. Banzai. Units assigned to this are to be as follows.” He paused and waited at the attentive faces of my senior officers, and nodded once as we had no questions.

“A combined arms regiment from the Heavy Cavalry along with at least one aerospace regiment as well as the majority of jumpships and dropships, to remind you from the Heavy Cavalry, under General Onishi.” He paused to let that sink in, but continued a moment later. “A combat command comprised of one wing, one battalion of mechs, a regiment of armor and another of infantry, plus support from the Heavy Guards, directly under Marshal Felsner, the New Avalon Training battalion, similar formation, under Katheryn Sandoval, and finally Team Banzai, in entire.” As I looked around, I noted the senior officers of all the units listed, and smiled a bit bemused, at the thought of an actress being equal to several of these.

“Additional technical help of up to two regiments in personnel will be provided. At this time, we are unsure of additional dropship elements from the AFFS, though two Behemoths and four Mammoths have been assured. The FSN may contribute additional jumpships, but at this time we are also unsure of that. Independent ASF regiments are being quietly assembled for additional support, with the Space assets, meaning jump and dropships, small craft, and all aerospace fighters under Adm. Ahemd of the Heavy Cavalry. The FSN will not be providing additional assault dropship support, nor will there be any combat dropship support from them. In effect, you will have an RCT with massive aerospace support.” He paused, and nodded, giving the floor to Yvonne. My anger spiked again, but I stomped on it, and paid attention behind an impassive facade.

“First, departure date from New Avalon will be 2/7/3015, for hopeful departure from the system no later than 2/15. Second, the official cover is an anti pirate mission, with hopes of ah, ending the threat of the Domains once and for all, explaining why an additional battalion of FSN marines are onboard the various ships. After a certain point, best determined by the commanders on mission, the task force will jump to dead systems and in between systems, to disappear from tracking.” She nodded once. “As we have the location of the system where the Argo is supposedly lost at, after that disappearance, the Task Force should not be seen again in any habitable system, which General Onishi’s Danais’ will be useful for, along with an Aqueduct tanker we are trying to arrange. If the mission has to be aborted, that restriction is over.”

Katheryn Sandoval, a willowy black haired and black eyed tanned lean woman with the rank tabs of a Colonel, raised her hand, as Yvonne scanned the room. “Ma’am? None of these units will have much ability to shake down… are you not expecting contact?”

Yvonne smiled slightly. “Outside the Heavy Guards, you are correct, Colonel. While we all expect the Aerospace elements to be well prepared, the ground fighting will have to be mostly born by the Heavy Guards, though what little hard intelligence we have indicates that the Heavy Guards will be able to punch through with little risk. Think of your extra units and equipment as a little bit of insurance. Now if there are no additional questions, we will break up into smaller groups.” Her tone at the last indicated there better not be more.

We quickly broke up into our smaller groups, with Felsner, Sandoval and Banzai joining me, in approaching the Prince and his Champion. Banzai’s eyebrows narrowed slightly at the slight twitch in my eye when I came close to Yvonne Davion, but he said nothing.

“I note you have a question, Colonel.” Hanse raised an eyebrow and looked at Sandoval.

“Sire, yes. I understand why I was promoted and given the new unit, even as a temporary measure, politics overall, and I’ve been a bit of a ah… well.” She waved her hand. “You can be seen giving my father a hand by trying to settle me down.” Hanse smiled. “My question is this. If we’re to go as fast as we can, why don’t we go now?”

Hanse turned his head to me, quirking his lips, and I took the hint. “Because I don’t have the people yet, nor even basic organization down. The dropships are being refitted as we speak, and won’t be finished and tested before the fifth, if we’re lucky. It’s quite possible the testing will be their liftoff for the mission.” Katheryn winced in sympathy at my harsh tone at the last. “I’m sure the AFFS’s in a similar boat.” Hanse grinned as I punted the problem back to him.

“Acquiring all your command’s personnel is a bit of a challenge. Don’t be surprised if some are transferred via small craft on the 15th, Katheryn. Same with our part of the fighters and dropships.” He nodded. “In fact, the sheer speed of this, is being put down as rumors, as Felsner drew royal disapproval.” Katheryn’s head snapped to the urban and civilized marshal, who simply nodded.

“It was my idea, yes. I’m not quite sure exactly what will be spread, but, needs must and all that.” HIs urbane tone indicated this was just another duty for him, and not one that troubled him. “Worse comes to worse, I can always log some more wood.” His ending line, drew a giggle from Katheryn who was aware of the Felsner’s association with logging.

“Excellent.” He looked around and nodded once. “Well, I and Yvonne have to return, so… unless you all have any other questions for me, I’ll depart now. Katheryn, your unit too will assemble here. Felsner’s troops will move to here by the third for some basic wargames, then you all go. So?” He swept us and got nods of acceptance.

I watched as he strode out, with a nod at us, Yvonne talking to him quietly as soon as she thought she was out of earshot, though while I could hear her talking, she was a bit too far to make out the words. Shrugging slightly, I turned to the other two. “Questions of me?”

Katheryn looked me up and down, noting the legs. “I was going to have some pointed questions on how you even think you can fight, then I did the research. Your own stunts, your own martial arts, and you own your own battlemech, an Archer, and at least have the basics on how to use it. Do you think you can run a regiment?”

I looked upwards for a second. “I have good people to listen to, as well as a good second who’ll act as ground tactical, Ferro, Major Ferro.” I smiled slightly. “I also know the best secret of good leadership.”

“Which is?” Kathryen asked, a bit challenging.

“Pick the right people, listen to them, and get out of their way.” I grinned. Her sharp laughter indicated her agreement. Then she leaned forward slightly, and commented. “So… wanna see how you stack up against me, in partying and fighting?”

Ran broke in, amused. “There will be time for both, before we go, today is laying the groundwork, ladies, Shall we?” He gestured at the other groups. One of which was how my recruits were being vetted and collected. I winced. If Hanse didn’t have plans to convert my brigades as I planned into AFFS units, he was staffing them as if he did. I wasn’t as naive to believe he didn’t, though as above, he’d pay for them, likely with a nice planet or two. Aiko needed her own title, didn’t she, he joked during the date. Well, it was time to get to the nuts and bolts.

Converted Warehouse, HQ of Taskforce Medea, WinterFell Dropship Port, Winterfell, Evening, New Avalon, Jan 15th, 3015

“Well.” Case snarked. “That could have gone better.” I thumped my head on the table.

Katheryn joined in the snark. “Not so movie like, is it?”

“Ha, ha.” I sighed. I had managed to put together a unit of mechs, mind you, and Ran offered a company of his Heavy Guards to play opforce for the unit on the first field exercise we did. As an added bonus, Uri decided he wouldn’t help one bit, and both Ran and Katheryn had agreed.

Uri shrugged. “We were going to get schooled no matter what. That was the point. The Marshal picked his best for that purpose. Actually, the fact that his heavy company was down to a half wrecked lance, as we retreated, is better than I thought we’d do.”

Katheryn stared. “You had the weight, and the numbers, you should have overrun him.”

Ran hummed. “Actually, I tend to agree with Major Ferro. I also had a company of tanks, and a company of dug in infantry. The fact is, I had maybe two lances of force totally left, and General Onishi managed to extract half her command from it, admittedly, most in desperate need of repair…” He shrugged. “In the end, while I agree that she did not take her objective, and in fact, failed in the secondary objective, she was going up against me and the Heavy Guards. I was mildly impressed.”

“Thank you ever so much.” I drawled from the desk. “I dislike losing. I dislike failing even more. I got both.”

“I believe you said it, Ferret.” Uri snarked. “Bloodless battles, bloody drills.” He shrugged. “As I said, we did better for the first attempt than anyone could reasonably expect. Could we have done better? Sure. Could Kikyo have used her mechs better? Oh, yeah. But was it bad? Eh. I’ve seen worse.”

Katheryn shrugged. “Her biggest mistake, was she got too aggressive. She tried too hard to punch in, instead of sparring and using the longer ranged capabilities she had at her disposal. Not quite a beginner’s mistake, but an aggressive commander’s mistake.” She looked at the frozen reply. “Not to mention, while the basic idea was sound, she didn’t keep her recon elements tighter.” She paused. “To be fair, they were fairly hefty, and once they engaged, the Marshal’s hovertanks meant they couldn’t break out, and instead of concentrating on them, Onishi chose to focus on the ‘Mechs. Toss up, but once she realized what the Guards had, she quickly shifted to breaking contact, instead of following up and slamming it home. That’s what I’d have done, but…”

“The reserve I had wasn’t optimized for close in, a pair of Archers, a 2R Marauder, and a Battlemaster wasn’t ideal for close in combat.” I sighed. “Of course, I could have gotten closer with the command lance, and used it to take pressure off, but by being a good klick behind the main body, I cut my effectiveness for the two Archers by at least half, I’d say.”

Ran smiled. “It wasn’t you lacked the right instincts, I’d say, I suspect your issue, is the opposite of one I’ve seen too often in young bloods, agree Uri?”

“Yeah, she was trying too hard to keep tactical control and oversight. Plus, she was trying to fight at longer ranges than really suited for the situation. Not too surprising, but still. A lot of tyros make that mistake. Effective range isn’t maximum range, and well…”

I nodded. “I confused the two. Sure, a PPC can do damage out to an easy two or 3 clicks, but our computers even in Bun Bun or your 2R, Uri, can’t even hope to get lock at that range. Bun Bun was a bit better off, but…” Uri nodded, satisfied at my response.

Ran sighed, looking at Case, still wearing his scruffy leather jacket, and leaning back, smirking. “It doesn’t help that Lt. Winter managed to not get hit,and once you put him into play, was responsible for the de facto destruction of my armor company, by himself. You held him too tightly. Wise, as a bodyguard, in a sense, but in reality, he should have been given free rein earlier. I have not seen a mechwarrior better than him.”

Case grinned. “And this was me not taking it seriously. You ain’t seen anything yet, darlings. I’ll kick ass and take names on anyone you can think of, y’hear? Oh, and thanks to your sister, cabbit for the fix on Redline. Annoying to have the Gauss Rifle knock me on my ass when firing.”

“... Case. Go find a beer.” I didn’t want his attitude rubbing the AFFS officers the wrong way. Much less Marshal Felsner who he headshotted from the extreme edge of the effective Gauss range thanks to Redline sporting one now. That was all that allowed us to break contract and lick our wounds. I also didn’t want to know that Aiko had a taste for the scruffy. I really didn’t.

Case saluted lazely as he pushed off the wall. “No hard feelings, Marshal? You were a big target, so… yeah, get rid of the Assault first.”

“Not unwise, though I would be bedeviled in how you managed that shot, young man.” Felnser nodded.

“Talent and practice. Too many snakes found that out.” Case’s savage smile smoothed out as he nodded at the General, and then walked out.

“Bit too cocky and gloating after he took me out, I’d say… but can’t say he didn’t deserve some kudos.” Ran rubbed his chin. “That ability of his… I’ll say this. I have some ideas on how to deal with it. I’ll set it up. You’ll enjoy it, I promise.”

I looked at Katheryn and asked quietly. “Is this where I go ahead and cry?”

“... It’d not help.” The Sandoval patted me on the back. “Really, it wouldn’t.” She paused. “Cheer up, tomorrow it’s my turn to get shredded.”

“... I’ll buy the drinks afterwards.” I nodded. “If nothing else…”

“We can bond over sadistic Marshals. Good thinking!” With that, we switched to discussing more precise details on how I screwed up, and what I could have done better, but what I did right. This would take most of the rest of the afternoon.


Acting HQ, OHC, Winterfell Dropship Port, Winterfell, New Avalon, Morning, Jan 26th, 3015

Kelia stuck her head into the office I was using. “A… Captain Steiner is here to see you?” I paused on that.

“Before you let her in, get Case here now.” I paused. “And toss me that pistol.”

Kelia tossed me the pistol, a Serak 7875D, more or less the Federated Suns’s version of the legendary Colt M1911, and one I was actually fond of. I checked it over, charged it, and clipped it to my uniform’s belt, while l left the flap unbuttoned.

Case sauntered in, a beer in hand, knocking on the door even as he entered. "Soooo... did you eat him alive yet, or did you just nibble?" he waggled his eyebrows.

I rolled my eyes. "I behaved. He's a Prince. And one worthy of respect, you Pole." I shook my head. "A Captain Steiner, you know the one I'm referring to, the Ex-Dragoon, supposedly." I pause and share a long look with Case about how likely that was. "Is here."

"Oh," for once an almost alien look of calm was on the mech jock's face as he pondered for a moment, setting the beer aside after a moment "I wondered why you looked ready for the shootout in the OK Corral," he said finally, before pulling out his gun from the shoulder holster, humming under his breath something that sounded suspiciously like 'hi ho, hi ho, a clanner killing we shall go' as he checked the mag, before sliding it back in and reholstering the weapon.

I nod, my entire mode shifting to something no one would recognize, but a stillness that only a pit viper could equal. "Kelia, please send her in, now."

We waited quietly, and then a stunning blonde Steiner walked in.

The statuesque blonde walks in, a practical clone of the Archon by the looks of it aside from her clothing. Wearing pants, blouse and a jacket, her stride is confident but her eyes betray her alertness as she reflexively scans the room before she focuses on Kikyo, noting Case as a curiosity or, perhaps, a bodyguard. If an odd one at that, she noted, wondering if he was even an adult yet.

With a smile, she asks. "General Onishi. I received your letter, and the offer. Since I've had a bit of a falling out with the Colonel, I'm wondering if the offer is still on the table."

I smile back, it not reaching my eyes. “It’ll depend on the answer to this question, Captain.” I pause for a second. “How’s the weather on Strana Mechty?”

Case looked at Kikyo incredulously "...seriously? THAT's your opener you fucking
Plagiarist?"

I don’t look away, as I respond. “Hey, Ed would demand it!”

Katherine stares for a moment, her mind running through that exchange, tid-bits of old bringing back to mind where the reference really came from. With a shake of her head, she simply says, "The weather is Fragmented enough... 'fraid I don't have a gold coin for you. And I was right, when I read the letter I knew you were going to give me headaches."

I relax, but before I could speak, Case interrupted.

"I'm deeply confused now," the teen scratched his head "On one hand, you're a
Clanner and as everybody knows - the universe smiles on you when you kill a Clanner. On the other hand..." he trailed off "...what a strange feeling."

“Don’t feel too bad, think of her as a deep cover agent in the cold, Pole. Yeah, long time for you, I suppose, and yes, Scarlet forever! The Pole’s there, and you?” I quirk an eyebrow at the not so Clanner person. “And what the hell have you been doing to prepare the Inner sphere for those inbred fucks?”

"Pole? ... Does that mean... Case? Wolf in Sheep's Clothing? Reload?... Yeah, I remember now. And the raging hatred boner for Clanners. Can't blame him for that one," she noted drily. "As for what I've been doing? Deadman watch with everything I know, biding my time for Kerlin to cut us loose and trying to nudge events just enough that my friends don't bite it or lose anyone they deeply care about. And trying to stay alive."

There was no bitterness whatsoever on that last bit. Nope, no siree, or so Kikyo thought amused.

"Wow. Restraint. I'd have probably started killing those brain-dead fuckers the moment I got my hands on a mech in the Trial of Position," Case shuddered "Until my teens with Clanners... eugh... I feel sick just thinking about it."

“... Restraint, isn’t that a sexual position?” I snarked. “More seriously. Minako? Really?”

"I'm sure you'd know all about that particular use of restraint, given some of what I heard. But leaving that aside, and lucky you, Case. Do you know how valuable predictability is? Doesn't matter now, your letter was the tipping point, that and my own work behind the scenes finally culminating in something I hadn't predicted." Kath’s voice was a bit bemused.

I snicker, but quirk an eyebrow in question.

Kath sighs. In a slightly annoyed tone, she responded. "Kerlin's doubling and tripling down on my suggestions to make Blackwell the logistical support to the Dragoons in the Inner Sphere. He's shipping in a supply run for Blackwell and that, in turn, finally clued Jaime in that we never were intended to be a reconnaissance force. Not by our own Khan. No, we've always been the canary."

"I was always wondering, is Jaime that attached to Clanner culture after all he had seen or is he simply that stupid," Case pondered "Both qualify for dismissal since that idiot is clearly not fit to lead the Dragoons."

I shrugged in response, and responded. “I think he didn’t know what to do, plus, let’s be honest, the Clans don’t do long term thinking as a rule, and in a lot of ways, their solution to problems generally is ‘I got the gun…’, and the Inner sphere didn’t treat Jamie much better than the Clans did.”

Katherine sighed. "I don't know what Jaime was thinking in Oh Tee Elle after Kerlin's orders. I know what he's thinking now and, beyond being convinced that I should be the one leading the Dragoons... Yes, shocker, beyond that... He's convinced the Crusaders are the same rot that allowed Amaris to gain his perch and keep it until the Great Father kicked his ass."

"That is why," she continued, "he wants me to turn you and your unit into a Clan-killer. The Crusaders will keep pushing until they get what they want, so..." She smiled. "Let's give them what they want and let them choke on it if they dare."

"So... let me see if I understand this correctly," the teen said slowly, an odd expression on his face "His idea of stopping the Clans is to train a limited number of people in how the Clans fight. Maybe to graciously disseminate some technology, no matter how stupendously limited, and to meet the Clans in a 'fair fight'?" the quotation marks were almost visible "Yeah. That's it. I'm taking whatever vacation time I have, my mech and I'm going to go kill that stupid asshole and anyone he considers an advisor. He's clearly too stupid to live."

Katherine shook her head. "No, that isn't the entirety of his plan. Did you miss the Blackwell supply run I mentioned?"

I shake in suppressed laughter, and finally break loose. After a long moment. “While… yes, I can fully agree with that, he does realize our solution to the clans is grid square removal the Russian way?” I smile broadly.

"Artillery, air strikes, guerilla warfare, tanks..." Case eyes almost mist over "A lot of tanks."

"I believe he's finally understanding, as I told him more than once, that the Inner Sphere's problem isn't the manpower. Blackwell's production caps are being removed as we speak and any production beyond what the Dragoons need will be made available for sale," she said before smirking, "I think Hanse will want to take a bite out of pretty much all of it but as a stockholder of Blackwell myself I can make sure this unit has priority after the Dragoons."

I nod. “Good. Though Hanse owes us big. And is stripping my dropships of their last generation Royal bays for mechs and like.” I smile.

"Halleluyah," Case muttered, pinching the bridge of his nose "Fucking clanners... 'Oh, fight us fairly, you dishonorable surats, fight us one-on-one, it isn't like we have far superior technology that gives us every possible advantage or anything!'"

"Not in the Homeworlds we don't," she replied. "Think about it, even the Blood Spirits have access to the same technology as everyone else, just in lesser amounts. I don't think anyone other than us really groks just how much of a difference it makes. And that's what Blackwell will begin to fix. Supply run will, if nobody interferes with it, let us open multiple new production lines of just about everything. Battlemechs, aerospace fighters, combat vehicles. Christ, Kerlin's sending a mobile shipyard. If anything, we might have to keep the Dragoons pinned to New Valencia just to keep everyone from attacking it."

I shake my head. "And we're going after the Argo and the Artu cores, then Helm, which Hanse knows about, we talked about it last night over dinner." I smile crookedly. "I should watch my virtue around him, shouldn't I?"

"Move into Federated Suns," Case shrugged. "Problem solved. I mean, I'm not the Davion fanboy that the furball is but this thing is already wide open. At this point Hanse is going to kick assess left and right if he's half as competent as the novels make him out to be. The patented idiot here already blabbed about the Argo and the Helm core," he nodded at Kikyo "We might as well add insult to injury."

Case paused, looking at her "By the way, Hanse better fucking help the Aranos, or I'm holding you responsible."

I roll my eyes in annoyance. “Actually, I didn’t blab exactly to him. My brother here and now did. Silly me, previous memories of here, said Ichigo, said brother was trustworthy. Should have thought about his being loyal enough to be an officer of the Heavy Guards!” I snap. “And as for the Aranos… they blew up a Castle Brian with a memory core! But, I’ll see to it.”

The Archon-clone looked at the two in turn before focusing on Kikyo once again. "Why am I not surprised," she drily stated. "I pussy-foot for over a decade trying not to make waves before I'm ready to make a move and you nuke everything within... Wait a minute. I bloody worked with you during the movie shoot. You didn't recognize me back then?"

"Oh please," Case rolled his eyes "I spent sixteen years keeping my mouth shut and literally putting away pennies to eventually play the stock market and get enough capital and manpower to go after stuff quietly. She blabbed it all out in, what, five days?" he paused for a moment, before shaking his head "No, wait, it probably wasn't even that long, Christ... put that tart anywhere near FedSuns, watch her blab everything to the fucking stupendously awesome totally needs to be the absolute ruler of all known space Hanse-goddamn-he's-so-cool-Davion. UGH."

Katherine laughed at that.

I shook my head. “I’ve only been here since the first. I woke up then, I guess. Blame transition shock, I guess. Or the amount of drugs the original Kikyo did.”

"...aaaaand now I'm even more worried," the mechjock deadpanned.

Katherine's laughter cut off as Kikyo's words sank in, then she stared at the former actress. "Kiki... I'm thirty six, closing in on thirty seven. Each and every one of those moments I can remember I've had my extra memories in the back of my head... and you're telling me you only woke those up this January?... I don't know what to say or think."

I blink, and turn to look at Case. "Uh... you?"

"I was... three, I think?" Case frowned, eyes unfocused "I might have been younger but that's where my memory really started to fire off. I think I scared the ever-loving shit out of my parents. The old man swore that my first words were 'what is this bullshit?' at the top of my lungs... or so I was told."

I blink, and summarize what I was told before I woke up in Kikyo. “So, you see… this is… odd, I’d say.”

"I'm not sure, to be honest. I have... fragments, bits and pieces." he hesitated "They involve my farm and agro-mechs. No way they are mine so... birth trauma? Insufficient brain development? My birth was... complicated on my birth mother and there was a risk I'd be brain dead," he shrugged "We'll never know, I guess."

"Huh... That could be a problem for the Cabbit. I mean," she started elaborating on her thoughts, "I've had decades to basically become me. I know myself, there's not going to be any surprises there. You, Case? Same deal, except you're younger. But since you've grown up, well... Miss Onishi, on the other hand?" Her eyes bore into the general. "She might have issues."

"Subscriptions, probably," Case waved his hand dismissively "But what can you do? Honestly, I had a smooth ride. I just had to get used to this mug and I was fine. Well, that and living on a farm among pacifists." he winced "Not too bad until you tell your parents that farming or engineering are totally passe and mercenary work pays better."

I rolled my eyes. “I’m not addicted to any drugs, though thanks to apparently Mom being an Kurtian genie, and well, an Order of Five Pillars… yeah, I don’t go to bed without private exercise. To say the least. Plus others.”

"I couldn't tell you what my genes have without asking geneticists to map the whole thing and tell me what they think of it. I'm actually a freeborn, though it doesn't matter," she admitted, "But here I am," she said grinning and then posing with her right arm extended and her fingers in a V, "ready to kick ass for the Inner Sphere. I'd rather avoid the color orange this time around, though I'm definitely a hot blonde."

"I'd love to see your genetic map, honestly," Case perked up "Katherine Steiner? Are you actually related to the MILF-Archon or is it just Clanners being Clanners?"

"Biologically I'm descended from Kailen Steiner," she pointed out, returning to a relaxed pose, "so I am related to her in a sense. There is no lineage, though, not in the legal sense. My mother was a Trueborn, with all that it implies."

I shudder in response. "Fun, fun. Okay. I have a meeting with an Outworlders ASF merc owner, and his daughter, one Asha Blackwing. Like Minako's story... hey, yeah, you wrote the first of us in Battletech... this is all your fault!" I point at Kath. "Want to bet that Asha is actually Valles?"

Katherine blinked. "Wait, Asha Blackwing is around? She could be Valles, alright. What do you mean, my story?"

“You wrote a story, pretty much… well, you as Katherine Steiner, and as soon as you and the Dragoons got here, basically, LOKI nabbed you, thinking you were the MILF of Archonhood, Lisa Steiner figured it out, broke you in tears, adopted you… you ended up saving Ian Davion and marrying him.” I nod. Pausing for a second. “Hey, you are owned by a cat, aren’t you?”

Katherine stared at Kikyo, automatically responding to her even as her brain blue-screened briefly. "Tika, yes. 'Tasha's owned by her brother, Pooka. They're all here on-planet". Moments later, her brain caught up and incredulously said, "Wait, what the hell are you saying, LOKI nabbed me, Lisa Steiner broke me into tears and adopted me? I saved Ian and married him?"

"...am I the only person in this room who isn't related or entangled with some main character?" Case just stared at them both "Holy shit, that's disgusting how Mary Sue you two are."

“Yep.” I popped the P. I phhbted at Case. “Better than being a dirt farmer, y’know? And well, we’re going up against the Clans and the Wobbies.”

The blonde simply stared in incomprehension for a few more moments as she processed the scenario, trying to figure out how in the blazes it could possibly have happened. Sure, she looked just like the Archon... she could buy LOKI kidnapping her thinking she was Katrina. But why would they do that? It's not like they didn't know where Katrina was, right?... Wait a moment, she thought. "How early was this kidnapping?"

I thought, while picking up a paper from Rayanne. “About a month after you all arrived on New Valencia? What I remember anyways.” I read the paper, my eyes widening.

"... Katrina was playing Red Corsair at the time, wasn't she?" she considered as she thought about timings, "That... I'm not sure when exactly she disappeared but... that does leave enough time for her to... alright, that's plausible, Kiki. But the rest... Christ. Why would I marry Ian?"

"You fell in love?" I shrug, scanning the document again, grinning.

"With Ian," she flatly stated. "That... I have no idea what to think of it. And if Hanse ever finds out I have no idea what he will think."

"...don't tell him?" Case spread his hands "I mean, come on people!"

"It's the Cabbit," she said as flatly as she could manage.

"We get her a very pretty, permanent gag?" Case rolled his eyes.

"It'd look kinky. Which might fit the expectations around her, actually." Katherine then gave Kiki a studying look as if she was actually considering it.

I answer distracted by what I was reading for the third time. “I wouldn’t. He hates the Snakes enough. To find out that there is a universe where he isn’t stuck with a job he doesn’t want, would make him try to take Luthien by coup de main.” I pause, and do a fist pump.

"...and now you know how I feel," Case shrugged helplessly at Kikyo's words ""You know how I got my mech? I scoured junkyards and got parts off of battlefields even the most frugal mercs would consider 'unsalvageable' and then begged, borrowed or stolen tools to fix all that up. I was lucky as I hell that the 4G is such a long-lived design, and so simple I could actually hammer that into a real mech. I get here and find that this tart, prettiest thing in four planet range of course, just inherited a mercenary company full of Lostech. And Jumpships. Of course." He sighed "I have a headache just thinking about it.”

“Then go visit the Doctor. Or the bar.” I rolled my eyes, as Case suddenly tensed. I flipped my esoteric senses, but outside two people, one very healthy, blazing with ki, the other crippled, walking towards us, I didn’t sense anything. “Case?”

“Huh. Off feeling, maybe I will do as you say.” Case pushed off the wall, and waved at Kath. “See yah, fake clanner. We’ll see who’s better later.” He was out the back door before I or Kath could say a word.

“That was… odd.” I tilted my head.

"If he wants to have a drink I'm fine with that. I'll see what he's worth in the field later," the blonde said.

Kelia poked her head in. “Colonel Rostig and his daughter, do you want… ?” She trailed off looking at Kath. I simply nodded. “I can trust Captain Steiner, even without her scribbling her name on paper.”

"I guess I'll take Case's seat and thank him later for warming it for me?" And with that she took the recently vacated seat.

I rolled my eyes as the older man and younger woman walked in. My eyes flicked over both, noting the missing legs on the man, and the taut fitness and grace of the young lady.

Colonel Sieg Rostig had never been a big man, despite what had obviously been an extensive physical training regimen; he maneuvered his own wheelchair with an ease that belied how relatively recent his injuries were, and despite both size and injuries he managed to project more than enough command presence to go with his rank. “General Onishi,” he said, rolling up to the desk and extending a hand across it to shake. “A pleasure to meet you in person.”

His daughter shared his slight build and black hair, and stopped a couple of steps behind where her father had, grey eyes matching Kiki’s evaluation - and lingering for a few moments more than that over both of the women already present before snapping away.

I walked around my temporary desk made of two planks of wood on stacks of boxes. I took the Colonel’s hand, and shook it firmly, with no attempt at dominance, though I had to suppress the preening that the younger woman’s evaluation had made me want to do. Out of amusement, I flashed my ki slightly, while I spoke.

Asha tensed slightly, but didn’t say anything, just seemed to fade a little more deliberately into the background.

“It is a pleasure to meet you, Colonel. While you took gruesome losses against the Kurtians, what you inflicted has a chance to change the balance of power on that front for months. Ten to one losses, is not a winning move.” I pause. “As for their MRB stunts… well, I can assure you…” I quickly looked at Kath, to back me up here. “No one who isn’t a weeaboo would take that more than the snakes being snakes.”

“I haven’t interacted a lot with snakes but I’ve heard enough, Colonel. You have little to worry about from our end,” the blonde Archon-clone said before standing up and saluting, “Captain Katherine Steiner, formerly of the Wolf Dragoons. I still need to discuss exact terms, but I’m joining the General’s unit.”

“Pardon, a what?” the Colonel asked, looking puzzled.

“An unfortunate individual who apes an obsession with traditional Japanese culture and trappings without any actual understanding,” his daughter summarized after a moment, then grimaced. “And despite their delusions of Magic Bushido Hands, the only winning move for any of us there would have been not to play.”

Katherine grinned. “One of us~”

Kikyou snickered, but brought her giggles under control. “Your daughter, sir, is in primus, correct.” I shrugged. “And we all know Shiro Kurita, and several who followed him knew as much of Traditional Japan, as I do of the Free Worlds Politics currently. They chose to focus their worship on Imperial Era Japan.” I shrugged. “However, I asked you to attend for a simple reason. I need good fighter pilots and commanders of such. I have a line on one, a Io Sawagawa, a former Nightmare Wing Commander… but I would be amiss in not collecting as many as I can.”

Walking back to my chair, I leaned back slightly. “Let’s be honest, Comstar screwed you. Even without House Davion or House Steiner paying one shilling towards what the weeaboos claimed, the MRB won’t insure your contracts, and you’ll have to work at lower rates. Further, you won’t get the good contracts you deserve. Added in the lien on your equipment, and the terms of the fine…” I spread my hands.

Rostig leaned back in his own wheelchair. “And so, you have an offer for us,” he said.

I nodded. “Not a great one, nor one you *truly deserve, but a fair one offered with some compassion.” I spread my hands again, after clasping them. “I have duties to my own, and myself, after all.”

Rostig nodded. “I wouldn’t expect otherwise,” he said. “And I’m certainly happy to hear a fair offer, even if I’m not desperate enough to throw in the towel and dissolve the unit yet.”

I nodded. “Nor would you have to, a ballpark estimate, backed by MRB’s last rating of your unit, subtracting your losses, and your recent additions, verified by DMI, puts your net worth at about one point two to one point five billion Cbills. This of course, is not counting personnel.” I shrugged. “You wouldn’t have to dissolve, if Comstar executed the lien. It’d just make life a lot more difficult.”

Rostig nodded again. “I’m glad we understand each other, then. What did you have in mind?” A scrap of humor crossed his face. “I, of course, couldn’t begin to speculate.”

“I can easily afford to pay your fine. I can in fact easily afford all your equipment.” I smiled. “What I cannot easily afford is your talents, and your pilots talents. Until the… recent event, if there was a better group of aerospace pilots not in the OWA, I don’t think anyone knew of them.” I tilted my head. “Given the twin hits of your losses in personnel, and to be frank, reputation, I don’t doubt that Comstar will execute the lien, the moment you miss one interest payment, and that will be sooner than later, given everything. Even if you can crew your new equipment with as good of quality of pilots...”

Rostig’s expression flickered through a moment of ‘Get on with it, kid’ before smoothing out again, and he hummed thoughtfully. “If you just wanted to buy the lien, you could go through Comstar,” he said. “But if you’re emphasizing my pilots like that… You want a training school. Cadre work.”

I waved my hand slightly. “At first, for my second and following aerospace regiments, yes. Hanse Davion owes me a fair fortune which we are collecting in equipment, to some extent.” I smiled toothly. “Second, try cadre for the said regiments.” I looked him in the eye. “It will be years, maybe decades, before you can clear your reputation, enough to be a viable concern. Not without high risk and low payout situations. As you well know.”

I nodded once. “It’s very simple. You buy into the Heavy Cavalry. I’ve been informed you had met my father a few times, and I’ll say he’s left a few places he couldn’t get to. This gives you time to reset opinions of your people and situations, and once you accumulate, and I’ll be honest, there’s a fair chance that you and your people might do so faster than you believe possible, a fairly agreed upon price to buy your equipment or equal in value back. Or you can take the cash and buy all new equipment. I have a feeling that equipment will not be as tight as before, at least for the Federated Suns.”

I tilted my head. “And if the First Prince’s message and payment for this meeting didn’t indicate it, you likely will have his thanks and consideration.” I smiled. “No small thing, I’d say.”

“Davion is good about debts, but not always good,” Rostig said dryly. “And I’ve built this unit once, I can do it again… So I think it all comes down to the details.”

Asha stepped forward and whispered something in her father’s ear, then stepped back again. Rostig turned whatever she’d said - it had been too quiet for even genie ears - over in his mind, then repeated, “All in the details,” and pulled a datapad out of one of his wheelchair’s storage pockets, then flipped through the files on it and settled on one to bring up and offer to Kiki.

I raise my eyebrow and read it. I smiled. “Nice try Colonel. But you did note the Hou-ou on over one hundred of those birds on the field, did you not? As well as the converted Triumphs? Rest assured, they have the room on our carriers to fit, with room to spare. My counter offer.”

I presented a piece of paper. On it, in primus, the Soldiers would retain their own identity formed into a regiment, and several companies of the Home Defense command, as well as buying a share of the Heavy Cavalry with the Colonel being part of the board of directors. WIth the option, as noted, to buy their equipment out at will, at buy in price, or if the Heavy Cavalry folded, the ability to walk away, free and clear with their equipment, or replacements of equal value. Until such time as they chose to exercise that option, the unit’s actual owner or heirs would receive 2% of the Heavy Cavarly’s net profit per annum.

Below the basic deal, was a variable buyout price, based on time of service, finally ending at 800 million after 10 years, starting at 2.2 billion within the first year.

“For your information, Gry Syed, Cummin Ahmed, Katherine Steiner if she agrees, Morgan Blackhand, and Evie Cook, besides myself, of course, represent the board. The board’s authority is to decide on long term plans, and of course contracts we accept.” I steepled my hands, waiting for his response. I paused for a second, nodding once.

“You noted the lack of Dropships, I suppose.” I smiled. “That’s because Hanse Davion is refitting them, to take out the last generation Royal Star League Cubicles in them, since as your daughter should be aware, they also drive a lot of the remaining factories we do have. That should make your decisions easier, no?”

A digression. The Star League heavily automated factories to the point the blue collar workers on them were quality control and observers to make sure the system ran smoothly. Efficient, constant and never labour striking, and able to deliver incredible precision repeatedly, they took over almost all factories and shipyards. Only problem is, Terra and a few worlds around it, the most heavily destroyed during the Civil War, were the only place the computers were made. So, as they warped and died… no replacements.

Until now. Kerensky wasn’t an idiot, nor was the Star League Navy, their automated systems and even non-automated cubicles, aka repair bays on dropships and jumpships for various mechs, aerospace fighters and vehicles, used the same computers, because it was cheaper. And they did the job quite well, repurposed from driving automated factory lines.

“Your show, General, I’m not in the Board yet and I didn’t talk with you beforehand about hiring the Colonel so I don’t want to back-seat this. All I’ll add is that as a Blackwell Industries’ stockholder I can ensure the Heavy Cavalry gets priority shipments from it and our plans are to expand production further,” Katherine said.

I nodded. “And I can sweeten the deal a bit more. We managed to keep from Hanse Davion, somehow… don’t ask questions.” I grin saucily, while continuing. “Last Generation SLDF Medical command MASH units and equipment. I have another possibility, but I can get you legs at the least good enough to get back in the cockpit.” I paused. “That must have been the final blow on top of already painful losses.”

Rostig… Laughed. “I won’t hesitate to take advantage of that,” he said, “but letting me work myself up expecting the worst ahead of time already did what you needed.” He tucked the draft contract away in one of his pockets. “I’ll have my legal look it over,” he added, and extended his hand again. “But unless you’ve hidden something very nasty in there, I think you can count the hook as set. You’ve got yourself a junior partner, young lady.”

I grinned, walking over taking his hand. “If Rayanne did, I’ll take her into the Dojo and show her that her AFFS Close quarter Combat isn’t a match for a family art. As I can trust Asha, and you now have the right to know, we depart for recovery of the Argo no later than the seventh of next month. Not a lot of time, mind you, but given my information and Gry’s indicated that it wasn’t just swanning around, but seconded to Blackwatch Blackhearts… Want to bet what’s in the computers?”

Rostig finished the handshake and turned his chair to look at his daughter. She looked embarrassed. “I couldn’t find any confirmation that the Argo even existed,” she said. “But maps of Helm were easier. She was an experimental dropship, same size as a Behemoth, designed to serve as a mobile base station for planetary system surveys.”

He shook his head, but he was smiling. “I understand,” he said, and turned to Kiki to confide, “Least confident ace I ever met. And if this Argo of yours is a Blackheart project, she’s worth going for first. I’ve been running a training camp on my candidates all through Captain Steiner’s contract, so we’ll be able to give you a strike wing by your deadline.”

Katherine nodded, she’d noticed the drilling.

I shook my head. “I have a full up regiment of ASF, needing polish and working up, plus more crewed. Only thing first regiment, the command regiment is missing, is a clutch of Lightings for attack mission.” I pulled out a tablet. “On this is our basic plans. Three full up brigades, at the least, in Alliance pattern, with integrated anti air, arty, and other support, designed so they function alone, one command combined arms regiment with support, and a full ASF regiment as a swing force, though I may include an equivalent to Zeta of the Dragoons, and a Home Defense Regiment, I foresee your ground force commander getting that slot, with the same support as the command.” I smiled.

“The only real issue is putting it all together. We even have four Colossus, six Excaliburs, nine Fortresses, plus additional dropships, along with a Monolith and four squadrons of jumpships, each a Star Lord, an Invader and finally a Merchant. I foresee your role working with Gry, Mari, defacto fighter boss, though if you want that role, it’s yours,” I nodded, and then continued.

“Even though she can’t fly an aerospace fighter yet, Jinks, our infantry CO and Shedon, senior surviving tanker, to put it all together. Outside Gry, none of them, has had anything more than a single regiment of experience in command, and generally focused on tactical, not operational aspects of running a large unit. I won’t say you’ve done what I plan, but you’re one of three I know of I can pick brains for multi regimental forces, combined with heavy air cover. For example: What do you think of Gunboats like the TiG 15?”

“If all you want is a long range scout or something to bully civilian droppers with, it’s the best thing out there,” Rostig said. “If either your budget or your mission are too small for a dropship, it’ll carry cargo and you can do boarding with it. If you’re only clearing out air-breathers, it’ll even do aerospace cover. But if you can get real fighters instead, do. The things it’s good at rather than make-do at are too rare and too specialized for mercenary work.”

He cracked a grin. “Of course, if you’ve already got them, I can find some uses for them.”

“Search and rescue?” his daughter suggested, hopefully.

“That’s one of ‘em,” he agreed. “If we’re prospecting they’ll be right in their comfort zone scouting sites, and while they’re overkill for medevac, they can do it as well as any chopper.”

I smiled. “I got a pile with my father’s bequest, and was able to pick up a pile more cheaply. I tend to view them as hard boarding, hostile space SAR, and long range or endurance patrol/CAP. Outside the Titans and Assault dropships we have, see page three, they can keep up easily with any other dropship. The Taurians use them very effectively, even though I concede, ton for ton, a proper ASF will eat them alive. They’re niche, but if you recognize that niche… and use it?” I grinned back. “I’ll admit I didn’t think of the scouting role for them as we kept a few Hellcat II’s, specifically the 213 Bravos. Fully intact.”

Rostig went still for a moment, then hummed thoughtfully. “Different shells,” he mumbled, but despite the words he nodded. “The Hellcats’ll do that scouting role a treat, though they’ll need fuel pods for it. Standing cover on the Tigresses… Maybe. Maybe. I haven’t seen it done and I can see some problems, but we’ll have time to try a drill or three.”

“While I'm only a dilettante about aerospace work, though I have logged a few hours.” I grinned. “As well as did time in basic for the Militia…” I shrugged. “I’m a Davion girl, even though your daughter’s wondering where my family art came from. Freebie. Order of Five Pillars. Ex, thankfully.” I shrugged. “I primarily drive an Archer, a modified 2Rb.”

Katherine mentally suppressed the facepalm. Ex-O5P. She was going to get the story behind that sooner or later, she decided.

“Back to my thoughts on the role of CAP. I propose a variant of the old American CBG, with the Tigresses standing in for the American Greyhound. With fast dogfighters and interceptors on ready five.” I raise an eyebrow. “Considering right now we’re operating two carrier groups off a Titan, a pair of Vengeances, and a pair of converted Triumphs.” I pause sadly. “I know the risks of that arrangement… and as cold as it is… losing a Tigress, or even three, beats losing a Triumph, much less a Vengeance.”

“Not familiar with the reference,” Rostig said, “but by the sound of it you’ll be asking them to do early warning tripwire and a bit of delaying action? That, they can manage. I’ve never run on a Titan, but if you set things up right a Vengeance can get her first flight into the black as fast as you can get the pilots to ‘em. Triumphs’ll take a little longer, but not that long. Hard on the Tigress riders, but…” he trailed off and shrugged. “If we can find the collars, escort droppers wouldn’t hurt.”

“The Titans can take care of themselves,” Asha said. “But even they’ll have a hard time launching and fighting at the same time.”

“And while we have the collars for combat lift, and to be fair a fair number of escort dropships, or dropships that fit the role, even if they can be tasked to guard the carriers, extra warning from a heavy strike is not amiss. Greyhounds were the American Carrier’s Airborne Early Warning, by the by.” I shrugged.

Picking up my thread, “Not to mention, what makes our assault dropships, outside the Titans… good at escort, also makes them good on point and hard assault, or heavy ground attack. Or escorting the transport dropships, or the cargo dropships. We only have a pair of Achilles, and a quartet of Avengers. And Achilles aren’t easy to get, and I’m already pushing viable combat jumping with what we have. See page five of the list of dropships, and links to combat details and carrying details of each one. I still need to name the Jumpships, dangit...” I sulk slightly. “Page twenty is what we’re getting from Hanse, and the period of arrival.” I shrug.

Rostig grinned slightly. “Well, if I’m signing on, the list of jumpships just got three longer, didn’t it? I have a pair of Avengers still.” He paused, then nodded sharply. “All right, I can make it work. Anything else before we start?”

I nodded. “Two short things. Tonight’s a welcome mixer, and I’d like to do a private spar with your daughter before hand, and second, tell Cummin or Nicholas, our dropship Commander, what you have specifically, and so we can get it here. I don’t foresee your dropship or jumpship assets going on the Argo mission, but I can be mistaken. We’re taking the command unit I’ve cobbled together, a combat command of the Heavy Guards, one ‘New Avalon’ Training Battalion of the Davions, more or less another of their combat commands of a standard RCT, Team Banzai, and an additional three regiments of aerospace fighters. Which tells you how much Hanse thinks this is really worth.” I smile.

“And last but not least, this is personal. Do not be surprised if you, sir, are waylaid by Doctor Colonel Kirkup. She very much wants to use what she has to heal people. This assumes that the other line I have falls though. I don’t want to get your hopes up, you understand, but I can assure you you will fly again.” I pause, and nod. “As it stands, I’m assigning you a rank of Commodore, since all fixed wing assets or space assets belong to the naval service…” I grin amused at my conceit. Fuck you Air Force! Navy wins. “But don’t be surprised if a pair of Admiral's stars and your own brigade happens.”

Rostig shook his head and smiled. “Well, we’ll see,” he said.

Asha, though, laughed. “The Taurians are going to shit themselves,” she predicted. “But Hanse is taking good advice, if he needed it.”

Rostig nodded to Kiki. “With your permission, then, Ma’am,” he said.

“Granted, Commodore.” I nod, returning his outworlder salute with an American.

He gave his daughter a squeeze of the hand - since, seated, he couldn’t reach her shoulder - and wheeled himself out. Asha turned to face Kiki directly, and visibly braced herself. “So, I take it we’re all a long way from home,” she said.

“Very. Out of curiosity, how long?” Katherine asked. I was curious myself, so I kept quiet.

“About six years, now,” she said, and scrubbed one hand up her face and into her hair. “It’s been… rough,” she admitted, and dropped into one of the available chairs.

“You were lucky,” said the Steiner, “I’ve been awake pretty much from being a baby, or at least that’s what I recall. In Clan-space. Yeah, to say I had it rough… Sorry, I’m not fishing for sympathy here, but the Cabbit here apparently woke up this January.”

“...Cabbit,” Asha said, and then laughed. “Yeah, the complete lack of restraint fits.” She pulled herself together and looked at Katherine. “Yeah, I’m sorry to hear that. What I remember of the books sounds like a fucking nightmare.”

“I admit I don’t know what was worse. What they were doing to me… or knowing exactly what they were doing to me,” she admitted in turn. “Cloud Cobra isn’t the worst by far and I was lucky for a Freeborn, but still… I have stories and not of the fun kind. I can share some of those later… I think the Cabbit needs to have a word herself now.”

And, with that, she looked at me.

I nod. I summarize what I experienced. “Not sure if it was Melange, or real.” I finally summarize. “Or something else. Hanse knows about Epsilon Eridani, Helm, Artu, the Argo and Illyria, plus a few hints about others. Putting aside your written love for the MILF Archon, Valles, right?” I look at her, then continue. “I’d point out she sold Melissa into a marriage, to buy the Davion Guards.” I pause and shake my head. “I agree it was the right thing to do, but to Hanse? Who only did it because at the time, he couldn’t, and Katrina agreed, trust Morgan. As in Hasek-Davion, I should say, geeze…” I count on my fingers then snicker.

“I think I know of three Morgans right the hell now. Wow.” I shake my head from the aside. “And, let’s also be honest. NAIS, was founded to take advantage of Halstead Station, no question. But, Hanse’s public, and I’d say private reason, his overriding reason, was medical care. He’s not a Warlord.” I shrug. “Plus… snakes. Clanners…” I look at Kath. “No offense. And last but not least, Sunny-Sue and of course the Word of Blake. Fuck the Dark Ages, and let’s do it now.”

I look at them. “Case, yes, another lost soul, Asha… same as Kath, too come to think of it… is down for most of it, though he just wants money, battlemech, sex and fun.” I pause… “And killing Clanners.” I shake my head. “While admittedly not my initial plan, that got shafted by Kikyo’s here and now memories, and trusts, we can tell the world we tried to use the levers we had for the good of humanity here. I’m all for that.” I look again at them, eyes blazing. “And I’ve been given a chance to make a difference.”

Asha… nodded. “If you’ve told him basically everything, I don’t think he’ll need our help,” she said, “but yes, I’m in. Five point nine of one, six point one of the other.” A shadow crossed her expression at the mention of ‘killing Clanners’, but she didn’t object.

“No offense taken,” Katherine admitted, “I don’t want the Clans here either. I’m in.”

I hold out my hand, palm up, a clear gesture for the pact. “And Asha? I didn’t. Not everything, in fact not very much of it. I needed and wanted proof he couldn’t deny. Argo would be that, with it’s databanks, no?”

Asha nodded. “It will that,” she agreed, then cracked a grin and took the hand to shake. “I guess that means that the Standard Battletech Insert plan has changed. You don’t go to Helm first.”

I turn to Katherine. “She’s right, oddly enough…”

“Helm is overrated, anyways,” she replied with a crooked smile. “Argo first. Then we have the proof and the locations… I still remember from examining the Wolf Core’s cartography a lot of points of interest I may be able to cross with the Argo, too. Should be interesting. And there’s always Columbus, New Dallas and so forth as well.”

“I’d argue about getting greedy, but this is Battletech. Let’s be about it, and move worlds with the levers we know.”

“Indeed,” the blonde said, joining her hand with theirs.

 

With a lever big enough I can move the world

A Battletech FanFiction

By

Andrew “MageOhki” Norris.

Chapter 5​

Space is vast. Travel in it is long. You can only admire astronomy for so long if you’re not an astronomer. And generally, being cramped up in the tin cans we call dropships, outside maybe the Princess, Monarch or largest cargo ships, means little privacy. My advice? Bring a lot of reading material.

Hurry up and wait never changes. The rush to put together a combat unit was about as intense as anyone can say. Once we left New Avalon’s surface, on the other hand, well. 20th and 21st century troops, hell, even late 19th century troops were spoiled compared to us. There’s only so much training in sims and other types you can do, before you get frustrated. Part of a skilled commander’s job in the 31st century is managing space madness among his troops, which is more accurately defined as stir crazy. Princesses help.

From the journals and notes of Kikyo Onishi, New Avalon Press, 3291 AD, as part of the “Century of Chaos: The Movers and Shakers.” series.

See Chapter 1 for disclaimers and other information
I would like to thank Drakensis for kibitzing and Editing, JG/Joe Gunnarson (Of Whateley fame) for the same, Valles, Case/Fosfor, Minako/Scratx for kibitizing. Y'all made this go a LOT faster than the first two, thank you. Psyckosama deserves a special shoutout for helping reinspire, some basic visualization and idea throwing.

Deep Space, En Route to Axylus, Late Evening (New Avalon Time), May 5th, 3015

“Yep.” Kath shook her head. “People are already feeling the void.” I rolled my eyes. I had closed my window’s shutters in my cabin, but I knew what she was referring to. The plan had us making ten jumps to star systems, where there was a bright star to tell us we weren’t alone. After that, nine jumps to Axylus, all in the black, out of contact, and all alone in the deep night with nothing to say that there was other life. Feeling the Void was the term early spacers had come up with, to describe that feeling. Add that to all the saws about bored troops, marines, squaddies, that are still true here and now… Well.

“And so, the plans you suggested and the others agreed to?” I quirked an eyebrow. Part of Kath’s experiences in the universe here and now, was a year long journey from the Clan homeworlds. You got bored really easily, and to top it off, Clans weren’t big believers in comfort for anyone, and their entertainment… well. Kath said it this way. “If someone had brought a new detective novel, or a New Kyoto or Ozawa shonen manga to the Clans… I’d have trialed every mutherfucker standing in my way.” And that was before a year long travel in a tin can fondly called an Overlord.

“It’s going.” She shook her blond hair. “We had to shift from the more space and exterior to the ships training, but we can do a lot still. I suspect by the time we get back to New Avalon, we’ll have the largest clutch of trained techs, engineers and scientists.”

I nodded. One problem that realists had with the Battletech universe was the lack of troop numbers, vs claimed populations. While populations weren’t as high as Cat labs claimed, since they stated the Federated Suns in 3135 had nearly one point four trillion, they still were large. The 3010 survey of the Federated Suns was 300 billion people, spread out over nearly 350 systems. The rate of population growth was in line to a First World nation of late 20th century, so, by and large, it was possible, barely.

But, you only saw the Suns at this point having roughly 100 division equivalent of federal forces listed, more or less 10,000 people, even counting non seen personnel or talked about support, you were still talking 20,000 give or take in each unit.

That would give a really tiny number of personnel, roughly only two million soldiers, not even a rounding error in terms of population. What the writers didn’t show you were units without mechs, units set for occupation duty, units that were not meant to travel, the full up supporting structures a military tasked with defending a realm with 350 systems and a constant war going on, or the planetary militia forces. Much less the part time military, aka active and inactive reserves. However, what wasn’t stated, that all those named units listed in the various sourcebooks, were part of a winnowing process. You had to make the cut to get into them. Which meant you were generally on the top quarter of human ability in mental capabilities just to attempt to train for them.

Considering the training was two years long just for normal infantry, much less a spacer or mechwarrior for example, and required training in how to survive being in a dropship, what to do if a vacuum leak happened, adapting to various planetary environments, and countless other little tasks that made up the frontline military duties not just in combat, but generally, there were two more winnowing processes, just surviving the training, which routinely killed people every cycle, and passing it. It wasn’t hard to say that any frontline force member, including an private of the infantry, was exceptional. Merc units tended the same way, entertainment notwithstanding. Recruits were either good, or dead, generally.

Our plans took advantage of that. Everyone. Everyone including the marines, the space marines, which we had a regiment of, the small craft pilots, the aerospace fighter pilots, everyone who had any free time trained in something else. We had a lot of experts with us that Hanse had collected, so an intensive training course was set. We figured correctly that there was only so much bitching and card playing the troops would want, so an intense course of technical, scientific and other training was implemented. It’d only pick up as we approached Axylus, to keep people from thinking on the void outside our hulls.

Asha shook her head, still mostly quiet, but opening up to the rest of us inserted as we joked about ourselves. “Even us spacers aren’t that thrilled with the black, and given that at least three of the experts are certified to teach the rest of my degree, I’ve been taking advantage of that, myself. Rest are learning how to maintain their birds, cross work other skills, and other things. It’s going to keep us all busy.”

I nodded. While I was busy with Ran and Kathryn doing tabletop exercises, or when we could arrange it, multi-unit sims with our battlemechs linked up via computer, sim exercises, it didn’t mean I wasn’t taking the chance to learn more. I had thought Case would take the chance to pick the greatest computer brain, but he had avoided Alt Cunningham with a passion that made me wonder. I thought he’d try to hit on her, then settle down to learn all the stuff about Star League era computers.

“The amount of bed hopping being done is fairly impressive.” I finally stated. “I checked, we are going through contraceptives at a slightly higher than expected rate, but we’ll be fine, so far.”

“And you are not getting any.” Kath teased. Growing up in Clan society gave her very warped morals regarding sex, at least as the Inner sphere would see it, as they had effectively delinked sex from procreation. My own urges leaned that way, but I was holding it in check, since everyone aboard Xanadu was my subordinate, and when I was on other ships, I had work to do.

“Laugh it up.” I shot back, annoyed. I blew out a breath. “So. Asha.” The fellow asian woman looked at me, her eyebrow rising. “How are the fighters doing?”

“Good. Very good. I know you were annoyed at losing the Second Carrier squadron and the Second Escort squadron, but we still managed to fit in three full regiments of ASF, between everyone. That’s as many fighters as the New Syrtises carried.” I nodded. When warships were still possible, the New Syrtis class was the largest carrier ever used. Carrying three full regiments, it was able to blanket a system in fighters. In this degraded time, three regiments of fighters was more than any one system could boast of hosting, outside the most critical worlds, and few of those, in fact.

I made a face, though on thinking on how we arranged everything. “I still don’t like giving up six of each Behemoth’s small craft to fit in fighters.” I finally shrugged. “But needs must.”

“We are seriously overprovisioned in small craft, Kikyo.” Kath shook her head. “We still are.” She tilted her head. “But, I understand, you wanted it all!” She caroled the last, a grim, with Asha hiding her laughter, her face alighting in mischief.

“Laugh it up.” I paused, then shook my head at the repeat. “Hasek-Davion…” The other two faces went still, knowing I referred to the recently elevated March Lord, second to only Hanse in the Federated Suns, at least in his own domains, and his attempt to hijack our forces, using the laws and traditions of the Suns against us. It backfired as Hanse had given written orders that none can supersede his orders, no matter what. But his attempt to hijack us, from the putative anti pirate mission, to attack the Taurians, didn’t sit well with any of us, and then his attempt to find out if we had any other orders he wasn’t privy to, had Ran Felster escorting him off the Xanadu in an arm lock. Personally.

“Yeah, that’s not going to come back to bite us, not at all.” Kath shook her head. “He fucked over the Dragoons, now he’s fucking over us.” She raised her eyes towards the ceiling of my cabin. “Can’t he just be a good little weasel and leave people alone?”

I shrugged. “A cocksucker gotta suck, I guess.” Asha snickered, Kath laughed. I had explained what I meant, and both agreed it was amusing. A traitor has to betray, after all.

Kath looked at the display on my wall, and nodded. A screen showed the name, status and current information of all the task forces’ gathered ships. It also showed the basic status of each battalion of forces, or the equivalent we had as well. Hanse’s hopes to attach another jumpship to the thirteen I had brought to this mission had failed, but we still had the ability to carry fifty-six dropships, and considering the combat ones we had accessible, the effective equivalent of two of the Federated Suns famed RCT’s.

“A regiment of marines,” Asha was speaking of space marines, trained to board and fight on spaceships, or fight in vacuum, “Five battalions of jump infantry, “ Those who used jet packs to hop around a battlefield for tactical mobility, she was referring to. “a regiment of regular infantry, all but the Marines, mechanized.” She shook her head. “That’s a lot of ground pounders.”

I agreed. “But they’re useful, even if we don’t see combat.” Both women nodded. If nothing else, they could help load and unload, and given all the training they were getting… well. Extra hands to do stuff won’t go amiss.

“Eight battalions of armor, a battalion of mechanized artillery, two batteries of towed..” Kath listed, picking up from Asha, “three battalions of recon, call it another regiment of vehicles and two regiments of people for support and transport, ten battalions of combat ‘Mechs, two of industrial on top of that.” She blew out a whistle.

Asha picked up from that. “Let’s not forget effectively a wing of gunboats, 3 full regiments of aerospace fighters, plus all the rest of the Small craft.”

“All fitting on four Colossi, five Excaliburs, six Overlords and six Fortresses. Effectively two Davion Regimental combat teams in power, not adding in the five carrier dropships or the five assault dropships.” I spoke amused.

Kath snorted. “The infantry and support people didn’t, Ferret.” To my dismay, Ferret was my official call sign, though Kath got to keep Black from her Dragoon days. Asha’s Dutchman wasn’t talked about by her, though I understood it meant lost in space.

“Isn’t that why we have four of the Comfort modified Monarchs?” Asha asked, a bit amused. I had modified the passenger liner dropship to carry about a regiment and change of people, call it 900, in less comfort than the original Monarchs could boast, but in exchange, they had a full up trauma center and a few other amenities to make trips a bit more pleasant.

“It is. And to round this madness off, we have three Aqueduct tankers, full of hydrogen to hot charge while we’re in the black, and twenty…” I shook my head, amused. Twenty cargo dropships in one place was unheard of in this day and age. Even if they were small ones. But four Behemoths, nine Mammoths, even if six were my modified version for support units, and eleven Mules, plus my Princess? No one would believe it. While nearly eighteen months of food and other consumables was spread out across my Mammoths, the remaining cargo ships were empty. Hanse was hoping. And so was I. Still, I didn’t think we’d need six hundred kilotons of cargo space, and that was actually a fair bit less than we had open.

We had one open dropship slots, meant for the Argo herself, given her size, she needed either a Scout class jumpship to herself, or two rings on a bigger ship, with the exception of the Merchant. Technically the Behemoths did too, but they fit quite nicely on a pair of Merchants, who’s pair of dropship docking ports didn’t block each other by being 180 degrees separated. All other jumpships would have one port blocked by the massive ships.

Kath stood up, her magbooks clicking. Even though Xanadu was docked to Indiana, our Monolith jumpship, and could be spun on a tether for gravity, we hadn’t been extended on it, to allow easy transfer to and from one of the three command dropships. Ancon and Achamer, two of my Colossus class, and the command ships for the Davion Guard unit and Sandoval’s Training battalion were on the same carousel arrangement as Xanadu, and so, movement between all three ships was easy, but moving around them was a bit of a challenge. This is why magnetic shoes existed. All ships were metal, and therefore, you could magnetically lock yourself to a deck.

“Six days to charge?” Asha asked, a bit dubiously. “That’s a bit fast, isn’t it?” She also stood.

Kath answered as she started heading out. “We’re in great shape, and have all the ships with late Star League era equipment, Asha. We’re good. We can charge faster, in fact, but the boss doesn’t like the wear and tear.”

“More like the components needed for rapid charging aren’t being made anymore.” Since the dawn of the thirty light year jumpship, and currently, an average of seven days, depending on the star, or hot charging, meaning you charged from your jumpship’s reactor, which of course drank fuel, was the standard for how long between jumps. The idea a jumpcore needed that long to cool down was false, a day generally would put it to safe temperatures. It was actually the charging of the massive capacitors that fired the core to jump the ship, that took that long. Or so everyone knew.

The Star League Navy however had managed to get hot charging down to 120 hours, or five days, but those required more advanced components, and while they lasted longer than what was made before and now made today, trying to charge faster than seven days added wear to them. The Star League could afford it, we couldn’t. But cutting one day off the charging time, would speed up the travel by a normal jump’s wait, so worth it. The Star League and Clans didn’t use this feature much, waste is waste, and repairing those parts was a pain in the ass, even for them. Us? They weren’t being made.

“If you want to spend another nine days in the black, we can arrange it…” I trailed off, as Asha blanched, and fled out the cabin, the clicking sounds fading.

“That was mean, Ferret.” Kath grinned as she shot the comment over her shoulder. She sashayed out, as I looked.

I looked, thinking about it. Asha hadn’t told us how she activated the Phantom mech ability, but she was clearly traumatized by it. And I would have sped up to five days per jump, if Kath hadn’t protested, pointing out each five day charge cycle cut component lifespan by five years, while a six day cycle by only a year. A half century off the component lifespan of two centuries… I understood. It also raised the risks of mischarging and misjumping sharply. None of our ships had a full SLDF inspection to cerity that’d be safe, after all. We didn’t know when a component would fail, and increased work would raise that faster. And we didn’t have spares.



Dropship Xanadu, Unnamed System, Early afternoon (New Avalon Time), July 13th, 3015.

“Finally!” Case exclaimed from the rumble chair he was in, on the bridge of Xanadu.

I nodded. The large gas giant about a half AU away filled our screens, and we had jumped perfectly into the large pirate point that it generated, putting us only a day away from the target, the moon Axylus, which was already highlighted in our holotank. “A couple hours to assemble the task force we’re taking, then twenty or so hours to travel, before we find out who’s there, if anyone.”

Marshal Felsner nodded from his screen. “Your Navigators performed beyond anyone’s expectations, General. I will personally thank them, and I am sure the Prince will as well.” I nodded. I had already sent out my thanks, and a bonus to the thirteen who performed a task that the best that the battle hardened and experienced SLN at Terra for the final assault would find difficult.

“Extra praise doesn’t hurt, no.” I responded. “Shall we see to our commands?”

“CONTACT…. MULTIPLE CONTACTS!” rang out before the Marshall could respond. “Tentative ID… Merchant, Invader, Scion.” The last was said with a bit of shock. Scions hadn’t been seen in centuries. The tech shook it off and continued. “Not appearing to be carrying any dropships, roughly one k-klick outside point. Powering up.”

I snapped over the general frequency. “Launch Assault Squadron and Carrier Squadron, flush all gunboats and fighters immediately! Alert Armstrong’s Animals to prepare to board!” I paused, realizing I had just overridden my superior. I turned to the screen he was on, and before I could speak, he grinned and spoke loudly. “DO it! Also Alert Avalon’s Blacks and the Black Balls.” He was referring to the Marines assigned to the New Avalon Training battalion and his own marines. “Also, alert Brigadier Blackhand he has work to do.” I winced, knowing I forgot that.

“Incoming comms.” Indiana’s communications rating spoke. “From the Invader.”

“Patch it to me, with feeds to General Onishi and Colonel Sandoval, please.” Felsner spoke mildly, as our fighters and assault dropships were spreading out. Quick math showed that at a meter per second, those jumpships wouldn’t make it back to the pirate point in time to jump before our fighters were all over them. And that they didn’t want to take the chance of the Suns not honoring the neutrality of any jumpship in this age.

It was done, and a bearded man appeared on the screen. “I’m Commodore Black. I’d like to talk a deal. I leave, with my jumpships, and my fellows on the moon, you get the location of over two dozen jumpships, about thirty or so dropships, and the Argo, since that’s what I figure you’re here for.”

I blinked. Kathryn’s face in a window on my screen blinked. Ran just leaned back. “I’m afraid just the location isn’t enough. Exactly what do you have besides your jumpships on the moon?”

“A full regiment of mechs, a half dozen dropships and a regiment of infantry!” The Commodore boasted. “We’ll also be taking our plunder and slaves, y’hear?”

“One moment.” Ran held up his hand, and the tech obeyed. “Get Blackhand on the line.” Morgan was half suited up when put on. Ran quickly outlined the situation.

“Marshal? What do you want done.” For once, the cigar ever present was missing in the operator’s mouth.

“Can you plant bombs on their helium tanks that would be undetectable from anything but a full up dockyard search, to go off on a week or ten day timer?”

“Can do, plus vent their cabins and bridge if you so desire.” Morgan’s grin was savage.

“Prepare to make it happen. You’ll know when.” Ran muted Morgan’s screen and nodded at the tech. The line reopened.

“Sooo…?” The pirate was grinning.

“I think not.” The Marshal’s voice was cold. “Allow my counter offer, instead of my fighters blowing your jumpships to vapor. You may take your jumpships, three dropships, with any equipment we don’t deem part of our mission here, and those who wish to go with you. Further, you have my word as a Federated Suns officer, and a loyal servant of my Prince, and unto God himself, that I will not interfere with your leaving this system. “ He paused, and nodded once.

“However, the price is, you will evacuate your jumpships, we will examine their logs, and your electronic signatures, for records, you understand, and until I verify your information, and have the situation on the ground handled, you will be under guard. Any resistance, and we kill you all, by the easiest means possible to us, and trust that God knows his own.” Katherine Steiner who had just stepped in, nodded at that. Last but not least, if your ships and personnel are ever found by an Federated Suns officer, you shall have no mercy, and no quarter. You have thirty seconds to accept my offer, or we kill you all.”

For a long moment, part of me hoped that he refused. What Ran was going to do was cruel, mean, and even assuming the charges on the cabins and bridges didn’t go off, a long cold way to die. Then I realized. Pirates. This would save on the rope.

“Well, huh. Guess you boys aren’t dumb after all.” The pirate stroked his beard as our fighters streaked closer. I knew our pilots knew where to punch the ships for the helium tanks, but the hesitation of shooting dropships would possibly be a problem. Before I could deal with it, the drives slllooowly accelerating the jumpships cut out. “We accept, Marshal. Mind if I offer you a drink of fine Canopian Brandy I had looted?”

“I… rather not, you understand.” Ran’s voice was urbane. “My marines will see to your ships and your people. Please do see to your people moonside. I don’t want to waste the power packs.”

“Don’t you worry, those boys know who’s boss.” With that Ran cut the screen.

Morgan’s voice came in. “Don’t you worry, General, Marshal. They’ll have time to realize that we don’t let pirates live.” He grinned. “And that’s a guarantee.” He turned off his screen, as we passed orders to our marines.

Shortly, while all but one of the pirates were being held by our Marines on the various assault ships, under guard, the so called Commodore Black walked into a lounge, with Armstrong and a fellow beefy Marine guarding him with needlers ready to fire. Ran had explained how odd the band of pirates known as Blacks’ Bearded Butchers were. Contrary to almost every other pirate group, they were run by Commodore Black, off a jumpship. I snorted. Finally a jumpship captain realized the pirates danced to his tune, or he could leave them.

By and large, most jumpship skippers who weren’t military tended to not care what dropships or to where they went, though the majority would balk at outright pirates, leaving three groups of jumpship crews who transported the pirates. Those under duress, as the pirates had their families, those who were amoral as hell, and didn’t care, and those who grew up in the lifestyle, because their daddies and granddaddies moved pirates along. Sadly for the Suns, the majority of pirate jumpships were Tortuga Domain ships, and they had been a thorn in the Suns and Taruians side since the end of the Reunification war.

It was just our luck not only to have found one of that ilk, but one smarter than most, who realized, if the Pirates didn’t dance to his tune, he could leave them to the locals. And used it. I kept a still face, with Ran next to me, and Kathryn on the other side. Case and Kath were behind us, pistols unsecured and ready to draw. Rios and her squad were also in the room.

“Fancy. A Princess, still in original condition.” The Pirate lord shook his head. “My, you nobles travel well. Welp. Here I am. My boys on Axylus are waiting for us. Let’s get this done, and me on my way so I can go see what plunder I can take from the Mariks.” He grinned. “Crappie shit isn’t worth the time, Taruians are too stubborn, and Canopians… some days you get lucky, some days you get shit, and the girls either are great at sucking, or great at biting it off. Bit tiring guessing which one.”

I didn’t say a word, but noted that Morgan should disable the charges, but set it up so their radios wouldn’t work either. Nor should their reactors. I had a good idea on how that’d go.

“Yes. Quite. About that force you talked about.” Ran’s tone was still urbane, though a hint of frost was in it.

“Oh, it’s real, Marshal. But I’ll be fair, half are franken mechs and bug frankens at that.” He shrugged. “What can you do?”

“I see. Which three dropships do you want?” I felt Xanadu start to accelerate towards Axylus.

“Oh, I’ll take the Overlord we had, that Dictator, and the Mule. We’ll get by with those.”
His stained teeth didn’t impress anyone as he grinned. “I’ll even be nice and only take seventy-two ‘Mechs.”

“The best, I presume.” Kathryn’s voice was dry. The Pirate’s shrug, and attempt to spread his hands, which were chained, answered her.

Ran nodded at Armstrong, who poked the pirate in the back.

“Okay, okay, bet the brig is fancy here…” The pirate stated as he started to shuffle out.

A long minute passed, and once everyone was sure the pirate was long gone. “Well.” Kath Steiner spoke. “If I had any questions about letting them die a lingering death, Marshal…”

The other Kath, her black curls shaking as she repressed laughter at that, gasped out. “He believed you!”

“Oh, I didn’t lie, ladies.” Ran smiled coldly. “I said this system, nothing about another, did I not?”

Case laughed. “I like.”

“Well, I believe we have planning to do, and preparations, do we not?” I responded finally. The original part of me was trying to digest what was happening, while the part from the twentieth century was coldly calculating… and wondering if leaving a gloating video to play after the bombs went off would be too much.

Outside SLN Argo, Early morning(New Avalon Time), July 16th, 3015

“Well.” Ran’s voice came though Bun Bun’s speakers as I waited for the final verdict. He was speaking from his Altas which he had used as his command post for all parts of this. “Eighty-three of their slaves, wished to go with them. Out of 900.” He shook his head. “They were half mining metals, germanium, if you’d believe it, and half farming in aquaculture greenhouses set up. This pirate was a bit odd.”

I nodded, forgetting again that Bun Bun would try to do it… and that looked hilarious on an Archer. The snickers from the Marshal’s mech indicated as such. I stopped, and spoke. “Yes, Marshal. Word on the Survey?” I was referring to the Argo.

The tone indicated a bit of annoyance. “First, the ship’s hull is in fairly good shape, all told, though frame members are a bit trickier. The drive…” He sighed. “She can’t lift. Not on her side, though from what we can tell, her last captain put her down aft first, but that bent the main drive nozzles.”

“I… see.” I thought a second. “We’re going to have to tow her off then?”

“Looks like. Our engineers and shipwrights are estimating exactly where to put tow cables on, and we’ll use all the eggs to lift her slowly. Once we fully copy the data, of course. Captain Cunningham says it’s no problem, and with your lovely Colonel’s codes, the computers purred for her.”

Kath had given up a general code set, she said that should open up any SLDF computer. She was right. General Kerensky’s own codes, which were master codes as far as she, or any other Clanner knew. I wasn’t so sanguine. Yes, Alexander Kerenksy was the last commanding General of the SLDF, trusted enough to be regent and guardian for the last Cameron, but… institutional paranoia ran deep. I had a bet with Kath that we’d find computers it’d not crack.

“How long?” I rubbed my forehead, in irritation, not liking being her, and wondering when the other shoe would drop. Having acquired a Union, a Leopard, and a Leopard CV was just added annoyance. I had already agreed that they could be split between the Davions, and Team Banzai. Ran had given Team Banzai the first pick, and was out one Leopard carrier. Upside for me, was I was already promised the Argo, with everything in it, except, and this was key, Hanse got the data, complete, unaltered, and as organized as we could arrange it, plus Fed Boeing’s Shipwrights to look over and study the Argo.

Looking at the ship, I figured out why it took the Canopians several years to fix her in the Battletech computer game. Not only were the main drive nozzles huge, they were half wrecked, likely requiring all new ones, there was holes, dents, and other problems with the ship. Not to mention Canopus likely had taken it completely apart to create detailed blueprints.

“I’d say at least two days after our confirmation gets back, then two days to get her to our ships.” He shrugged. Ironically, the Leopards with dismounted wings, could be carried in the Behemoths, and the Argo herself, and one reason Hanse was so eager to have Fed Boeing, her original builders examine her, was to see if they could refigure out how the KF extender worked inside her. That’d allow the Union to be docked to the Argo.

I sighed. “I know it’s mean, and so unlikely to be true, but is it so wrong to hope that Black’s information is bogus?”

I felt the Marshal shake his head. “Not at all my dear. But like you, I am confident enough to bet on it, that it’s accurate enough for us. He was too confident otherwise… and would you place yourself in our hands, if it wasn’t?”

I laughed. Kath’s Marauder was also in the circuit, as she responded for me. “Or an idiot… which he isn’t… though believing you…”

“Aw, Black, that’s easy to understand. Jumpships are sacred. If we were gonna damage them, we’d damage them here so we can keep ‘em, not let him escape with them!” Case’s shrug was heard though the net. “So, from that view… not completley stupid.”

“Quite so, Leftenant.” Ran grinned coldy. “Shame for him, that since he’s giving us a fair passel of ships, his three aren’t that. Needed, and in the end, someone will find them again, with a buried log from the lovely Cunningham.”

“Well, I’m going back to the Xanadu.” I grumbled. The shipwrights and other trained spacers had kept us from gawking in the inside, and wouldn’t even give us a tour, dammit.

“I don’t blame you, we still have to finish processing the freed ex-slaves.” Ran’s voice indicated that’d be my job, I was a more pleasant face to look at, more reassuring. With 854 people, that’d take a bit. At least only thirty-five were under fifteen. Small mercies.

“Understood, Marshal.”

Dropship Xanadu, docked to Indiana, right outside Axylus Pirate Point. Midday (New Avalon Local time), July 29th, 3015.

Commodore Black’s stained teeth disgraced my screen, as he grinned at us on his Invader. “Well, a deal’s a deal.” His ships were already halfway though the jump cycle, and the first flickering of a jump were happening. “Now, y’all get those ships fast, since once I hit Herotitus, I’m gonna sell the info, y’hear? Consider this a friendly warning.”

“Rest assured, four weeks is more than enough. Even if we’re still present, I doubt very few will wish to tangle with my command, Black.” Felsner’s urbane tone carried a cold tone of warning. “I’m sure you noted we brought along enough shipwrights.”

“About the only way you’d be able to get poor Argo off the planet, even with those eggs y’all have, yep.” He tipped his cowboy hat at us. “Hope y’all fix her up right and proper… so I can find her and take her, later on.” His laughter was not returned.

“We shall see.” I responded for the Marshal. The Jump was beyond stopping, now, as I had learned over the journey how jumps worked, but before Black could respond, the views of the ships on another monitor showed something odd, and in the Holotank on Xanadu’s bridge, they all suddenly glowed pink, as a sharp but yet quiet boom was heard on the channel.

“What the he..” All three ships warped, space curling around and through them, in ways that never should happen, and the signal from the ship cut off. I snapped my head to Morgan’s only to notice his sharp grin.

“Bridager, what did you do?” Ran’s voice cut though my shock. The last ship had dissolved finally, and all of us were blinking at the aftereffects.

“You, Marshal, promised you wouldn’t hinder them. You never made that promise for me.” Morgan’s cigar shifted, with his sharp grin. “Talked to Jonna, the head of the shipwrights? She told me exactly when during a jump a component had to fail to catastrophically misjump. So, sent the signal the moment I was sure they were gonna jump.”

“My… god.” Kathryn’s voice sounded sick. I was too. Event Horizon, the twentieth century horror movie about jumping, was the least of the horror tales of misjumps.

Ran’s eyes closed. “May God have mercy.” He slowly opened his eyes, and looked at Morgan. “... It is a good thing you are no longer a member of the Armed Forces of the Federated Suns, Bridager. Rest assured, I will report this, and it’ll be in your file, for future consideration of your status, if you choose to return to the Prince’s service. You broke my implicit statement. Your unit, and your commander was under my command, and I had meant myself and those under my command.”

Morgan shrugged. “Pirates. And I’m a Rabid Fox. You didn’t ask for them not to suffer, I just wanted to see it.” His grin returned. “Shame I didn’t see his face when he realized what happened.” He lit his cigar again, and when it was drawing properly. “Pirates and Slavers. A good day.”

I stared at him. Operators were operators, and I had known a few.but one this vicious? Rare. And one who took that much pleasure, even on admitted pirates and slavers, on their lingering and horrified deaths? There was a dark side to the man, that he kept leashed. But when it could slip free… it did. Something to keep in mind.

“Morgan.” I finally responded. “I’ll remember this.”

His smile was cutting. “Good. You need to.” With that, he unclicked his boots, and shot off the bridge.

Ran’s expression was sad. “He wasn’t just busted for the blown operation he told you about, you now realize.” I nodded, as Felsner continued. “Not only has he done stunts like this before… there are markers in his makeup, that are…” He thought of a way to put it.

Sofia Rios, Rogue, Morgan’s second spoke softly. “The word you’re looking for is troublesome. He’s about as close to a functioning psychopath and sociopath as you’ll ever meet. Loyal? Yes. Loving? He can be. But to those who are enemy? And those who don’t merit the value codes he’s told to obey? He doesn’t care. Not one bit. And in some cases? Enjoys their suffering.”

Kathryn Sandoval, an AFFS officer stared at the woman though the screen. “And he was allowed to be a Rabid Fox, command them?”

Sofia’s smile was twisted. “You note that he does obey a moral and ethical code, when told to and what it is. You’d also note he doesn’t go after allies or non combatants unless it’s the mission. But… Rabid Foxes need the best possible, even if it’s wrapped up in a monster. He is. ANd he’s the best at training future Rabid Foxes. His trainees have the highest success and survival rates.”

Kath Steiner’s voice was quiet, as she whispered in my ear. “And he’d fit right in with the Clans, wouldn’t he, too well, far too well.”

I nodded sadly. We’d need him. But… looking into my soul, keeping that man alive, knowing what I knew, and what I could suspect, I realized I was walking a path of darkness again. I’d need levers on him. Fast.

Dropship Xanadu, Axylus System, Late Evening (New Avalon Local time), July 29th, 3015.
We had moved the task force to where the mangled Pirate Commodore told us the other jumpships had been mothballed. It was a location outside the system’s jump interdiction zone, but still close enough to see the star. A brief digression I suppose. Jumpships could only jump to zones of certain gravity or less, which means points in a system corresponding to the Lagrange points, specifically the L1 point, to a planet and the star, or a planet and a large enough moon, or outside a certain boundary, dependent on the star’s size. For a star like Sol, that was roughly 11.2 AU out. Most jumpships either jumped to a pirate point, also known as those Lagrange points above, or to the zenith or nadir of a star system. We hadn’t this time, because where the mothballed ships were, wasn’t there.

The Star League had a problem during the Reunification war. They had captured enemy ships, drop, jump and even warships. The problem was simple. What to do with them? For the warships, most had ended up being scrapped, as they had no practical resale value, and Ian Cameron’s idea was to end wars, meaning why keep around half wrecked ships? The other ships weren’t so easily dealt with. From the logs of the Invader we had scanned, then destroyed, the two Corps involved in the Canopian and Taruian campaigns, had basically stashed the ship away for later use. Then, from what we could guess, forgot about them.

Tsk. All old Jumpships, and examples of the original mass produced classes, both with and without rings, but even back then, they built to last, and one Leviathan, a predecessor to the Monolith class, discontinued due to how easy it was to hijack, three Scions, six Liberties, five Pioneers and six Merchants rested, sails banked to receive no charge. What amused me was the three Aquilas as well. Old, short ranged compared to modern jumpships, lacking even solar sails, they could move at more than a measly one meter per second squared of acceleration. But given their limits, I suspected we’d be leaving them behind.

With them were a clutch of dropships, all of the older models too. Three Lions, the predecessor to the Fortress, seven Jumbos, a cargo carrier like the Mule, and finally a dozen Leopards.

“Well.” Kathryn Sandoval looked pleased, floating next to me. “This trip has paid for itself, just about.” I nodded, these jumpships would be taken into service for the Federated Suns, well, their share. “Though I’m not sure the older ships are worth the effort. The Merchants, on the other hand?”

“Actually, none of them are.” We all turned to look at Cummin, who had walked in. “Even the dropships.”

Ran tilted his head. “Explain.” He sounded annoyed, but was willing to listen.

“The Aqulias, we all know about, and a ship survey which is underway has already shown a significant amount of micrometeorite damage to them, as well as part stripping, and a detailed look at least at the sails of the rest, show they’re also punched though by the same. My suspicion is when they were left, no care was taken about the orbit they’re in, outside it was on the elliptic.”

I was annoyed. “Meaning?”

“They’ve been hit repeatedly by radiation, micro and not so micro meteorites, and it’d surprise me if any care was taken to safe their tanks before being deactivated. They’re dead, and as for the dropships, just a few pictures show they’ve been stripped for parts. My bet is, it took parts from all these ships to get that Merchant and Scion up and running. What are you going to do to Morgan?” Cummin’s tone was hard. “He destroyed three jumpships.” What Admiral Ahmad was referring to, was the almost universally observed rule that Jumpships were not to be targeted, sabotaged or otherwise destroyed by any combat forces. Pirates bent the line by boarding actions, but the Great houses didn’t, except to target to disable occasionally a pirate jumpship.

I rubbed my head. “I’m not sure. I’m honestly not sure at all. I know, I know, he broke the rules, and those ships should have been only disabled. I’ll look for suggestions once we verify your estimate that the ships are dead.”

He shrugged. “Just keep that sociopath off my ship, Ma’am. Or any other jumpship, until time passes. We can’t, we as in humanity, cannot have jumpships being lost. We’re barely replacing failure losses as it stands.” And that was the reason why jumpships had nearly universal ironclad neutrality. You needed them for interstellar war, interstellar commerce, and all the basic underpinnings of interstellar civilization. Therefore, they were a finite resource, and any combat loss hurt everyone. I would need to punish Morgan, somehow, and make it visible. But, I knew with that action, unless he did something awesome, Morgan could never return to the AFFS.

I turned around, and walked out of the observation deck, the Admiral and Kathyrn following. We shortly arrived in a briefing room, with a holotank, that Kath was playing with.

“Hey.” The blonde waved at us, clearly distracted. “What’s the story on those ships?”

“Wrecks.” Kathryns’ voice was disgusted. “Which means Blackhand is in even more trouble.” I rubbed my forehead.

“Actually, Admiral? We need him. He’s a monster, but… Only Xanadu’s bridge crew, and the four of us on the communication link heard. And I know you told Xanadu’s crew not to talk about it.” Ahmed’s head tilted in response.

“Spread rumors it was the stripping of these ships that lead to it, instead of Morgan’s action, my lady?” Cummin sounded resigned. “He is ours, yes… but is he a monster we want?”

I shook my head. “I will have a long talk with him, but we’ve previously discussed situations… and honestly, I can’t see better to put onto pirates or the DCMS, or even senior leadership of the Liaos.”

Kathryn’s sigh indicated her displeasure at the idea. “I don’t like it. I don’t think he should skate on this. But… part of me is wanting to unleash him against the snakes, apologies, Ahmed.”

Cummin snorted amused. “You’d note I left the Combine. I agree. As long as we realize which of the Combine citizens are snakes. Most …”

Kath broke in. “I agree, there Admiral. And bluntly, he’s an asset. We need him, in my eyes, but… Kikyo. Deal. Your position.”

I sighed. “I will.” I paused, situations running through my head. Would it work… maybe. Rios might not agree, or she might have a suggestion herself. “I have an idea, at least for short-term. Maybe.” Kath’s golden eyebrow rose. I shook my head and pointed at the star map in the holo tank. “What are you looking at, Black?”

“Oh. This is the complete map file the Blackwatch had.” She nodded. “It actually took several extra codes to get it all out, but it’s going to take a while to sort through all of it.” I nodded, waving at her to continue. “What’s interesting is there’s four locations on this map, that I’m not sure about.” My dark red eyebrow rose in question. “Artu.” She tapped a command and a star system glowed. “Our original target.” She grinned. “Now easy to get.” She tapped another system. “THis one, we all know about it, and Hanse waved us off.”. She tapped yet another button, and the system we were in lit up. “Apparently the SLDF forgot, Blackwatch didn’t, and they and the Blackhearts were occasionally raiding this system to keep parts going for some of their ships off the books, is my guess.” She shrugged. “That was the first system that caught my eye on the map. Then we have these three.” Three other systems lit up.

Kathryn’s black eyebrows rose slightly. “And?”

“A CIA site, an SLN site, under high secrecy, and a Blackhearts site.” She pointed at each in order. “One’s a jump away, the other is another jump away from the CIA site, and the Blackheart site is on Spencer.”

Admiral Ahmed’s brow was furrowed. “Okay. Pretend I’m missing something. What’s so important?”

Kath thought about it for a moment. “I’ll say this. Wolfnet has none of these sites, except the first two. And I’d point out we didn’t know about them before getting the map.”

Kathryn did a low whistle. “Wolfnet knew about Artu? How?”

“Because we paid attention to rumors, stories, and old old local history books and like. Artu has stories of SLDF personnel on it, being nice and good, before the Uprising, but it’s not on any of the publically open pre Application locations for the SLDF.” Kath smiled. “Where specifically? Nope, we didn't know, but I at least thought about following up.”

Cummin grinned. “Your father did the same exact thing. It usually paid off, not a lot, mind you, but it paid off.”

Kathryn’s expression became a frown. “Why does it sound like lostech hunting is archaeology and mythology research?”

I couldn’t help but snicker. “Because it is. Just a profitable one.” I smoothed my expression and turned to Kath. “CIA? I thought the TH disbanded it’s intelligence service.”

“Officially, yes, just like they disbanded the THAF.” Kath rolled her eyes. “Royal Command, anyone?” Various ahhs answered her. “I’m not sure, but I think they kept the CIA moniker as a recognition code for Blackheart support intelligence or even Blackwatch only.”

Ran spoke up surprising everyone. “Logical. So. Send a team to Spencer for the Blackwatch, a team to the outer reaches of this Independence system?” He drummed his fingers. “And a team to this unnamed and from the way I’m reading your notations, Colonel, unrecorded by any but this map, system?”

Kath grinned. “That’d be my thoughts.” She sobered. “I’m not sure what would be the best option, remaining concentrated is a good thing, but, as I understand it, we have a bit of a time crunch?”

The Marshal hmmed. “We do, but there’s some slippage.” He tilted his head slightly. “However, Spencer is habited. Admiral. How long would it take to unmark one of the Fortresses?”

“About a day or two, if we just wanted to cover up unit symbols, I presume.” The admiral's tone was questioning.

“I recall, in the briefings, the Blackhearts killed your father, basically, Baroness.” I blinked at the Marshal’s tone.

“Uh… yes.” I paused. “Oh… but what about the rest of his command?”

Ran’s smile was wintery. “Isn’t his call sign Solo?”

Kath winced. “That’s … evil.”

“He survives, this blackballing I want to do goes away, and the plan you put out, goes out, with some modification, to make it as him taking the hit for me, since I could have been blamed…” Ran nodded, then added. “He doesn’t, he’s repented.”

“... And you’re suspecting the codes in here aren’t going to help enough.” Kath’s tone was quiet.

Ran nodded. “It’s a reasonable thought, yes. He succeeds, he’s a hero, live or die. He fails, he’s dead, and his name is cleared. We win either way.” Kath and Kathryn nodded in agreement. I started to open my mouth to protest, then realized, it was true. It would neatly solve many problems. No matter the outcome.

I realized at that moment, that Morgan wasn’t the only monster. Just more obvious about it. And that Kikyo’s original self wasn’t equipped to deal with this. Even my 20th century self had put those shadows to bed, but they were waking up again.

Kikyo’s Office, Dropship Xanadu, Late Evening (New Avalon time)

I watched, stone faced, as Morgan walked in. He was perfectly attired, and ramrod straight, though a hint of confusion was in his expression.

“Explain to me, why I don’t have you arrested for a war crime, Brigadier?” I finally responded.

“Marshal Felsner gave the orders to sabotage the jumpships and make the personnel onboard suffer, and he’s the command authority for this mission, was I mistaken?” Blackhand’s response was crisp, honest and clear.

“... on the method, and the destruction of the jumpships was not intended, considering the explicit method he listed to be used.” I responded, a bit sharp. “That’s a war crime, that’d get all of us blacklisted, Bridager. Even if I cashiered you now, and turned you over to New Avalon, or C*’s courts…” I had it explained to me by Cummin and Uri exactly how much hot water Morgan was in, and even with the rumors that Xandau’s crew was spreading, and that Ran had confirmed offhandedly…

“Ah. I was under the impression no crime could be done to pirates.” Blackhand was still ramrod straight.

“... you know, you’re correct there.” I put my face in my hands, realizing the problem. “The crime was against civilization by destroying those jumpships. Any losses bring interstellar civilization closer to collapse, that’s why we don’t destroy them.”

“Oh.” Morgan blinked. “Ah. I had wondered why people seemed so leery of destroying them. You hadn’t given orders not to, it was the most effective way to confirm the orders regarding Black and his pirates, and my suggestion that we poison Black and his actual combatant people was rejected.”

I hadn’t known that. “I see. Why did you want to be clear that his orders were obeyed?” I waved at the chair, realizing he was a psychopath, not a sociopath. The big difference between the two in this case, was psychopaths didn’t understand morality and ethics as others did. Sociopaths merely believed morality, ethics and often laws, simply do not apply to them.

He sat, and slouched. “Right. Look. I took your coin, and your leash.” He smiled a bit twistedly. “I know what I am, and I know that I really don’t understand how other people see things, not at a level that makes me a member of society.” He paused. “Well, a safe member of society, anyways. I mean, yeah, I’ll keep my word. I’ll keep my allies safe. I have friends, and I’d go to the wall from them. You say we don’t kill children? We don’t. You say we do? We do. You say we use nerve gas on nuns? I’d protest, mostly because it’d be a waste of expensive nerve gas. And what did they do to deserve it. Nerve gas the Sword of Light? I’d do that with a song in my heart.” He shrugged. “Now you know. Give me a job, and I’ll do it, in the way I think best suited to the targets. Civilized rules? I don’t care, they don’t apply. Your rules do, as long as I have your coin.” He shrugged. “Will be interesting if I’m not under anyone’s rules.”

I kept the shudder from showing, but nodded. “Understood. To ah… “

A grin spread across his face as I searched for a word. “Repent?”

“Yes, that’ll do, for that action, we have a location for you to scout and disarm.” I finished. I passed over the folder with papers.

He opened, and started to read. He did a slow whistle, on completion. “I see. And the odds of the codes given working fully aren’t great, and Blackhearts may have trapped the base on recall anyways.” He grinned. “Excellent. I’d have volunteered for this anyways.”

I blinked. “You do realize this is how my father died, along with…” His nod cut me off.

“My lady? I am the best at what I do. Personally, the only reason why I am in command of the Black Phoenixes, is you didn’t realize. I honestly expected to be released given how everyone’s reacting, and Rios put in my place.” His casual tone sounded as if this was routine for him. “Hell, I’d recommend that anyways. She’s good, ethical and thinks a bit more politically, than I do. Leave me in charge of field ops, and training, put her in overall command of special warfare. Once we grow enough, that is.”

I blinked. “I will take that under consideration. You informed me that you’d not take a bust down to troop leader, when we first met.”

Blackhand shook his head, relaxed. “I’m not. I’d still command a company, in my suggestion, and still train. Plus, the prick was using it to get to me, and didn’t give me all the data. Can’t blame you for doing the same when you didn’t, and Felsner, now that I think about it, was rather clear on what he wanted done. I’m supposed to be a Genie and deliver his wish, in this case. Ooops.” His casual shrug indicated it wasn’t something that’d overly trouble him anymore.

Oh. I nodded after a moment. “Any other questions?”

“Nah, wait, no, one. Can I take people with me?” His grin was wide. “Strictly volunteer, of course, since I can guess you’d not like ordering men to do this. Nor would you if there’s another choice, I suspect.”

I thought about it. “If it’s clear and in writing that they understand the risks and still agree to go, yes, you may take up to five more people with you.”

He stood up, and saluted. “Outstanding. With your permission, I’d like to get started.”

“Granted.” I had stood, and now returned his salute. “Dismissed.”

Spencer Dropship Port, Immgration Terminal, Early Afternoon Local time (Late Night, New Avalon time), August 5th, 3015.

Operation Judas, as I privately labeled the mission had gone off the moment it could. While it’d be at least another week before the rest of the Task force had confirmed the ships were dead, and salvaged any viable parts, plus gone over all the dropships, closer to two, or so I was told, it was decided to undertake the Spencer mission. Xanadu and one of the Fortresses with a combined arms battalion were detailed for this mission, along with the Triumph carrier St. Lo and it’s wing of aerospace fighters would provide cover.

I had to inwardly smile as I played the rich Lyran bitch, using German. The suggestion was from Morgan, actually. I play up being a rich, spoilt noble daughter, who’s Daddy had more money than sense, but at least enough to provide his princess with an proper escort, while she ‘investigated’ rumors of lostech, with a ‘noted’ professor being her ‘guide.’ The idea was that people would take it as the professor was taking the young impressionable Noble for a ride. In more than one way.. The Xanadu, and my acting skills would so sell it. It also helped that we had managed to piece together what good Lyran noble girls would consider ah, inappropriate, but wear anyways, to shock their fathers.

“Yes, yes, I know my papers for archaeological research didn't reach you, but why should I be delayed? Dr. Hand is insistent we start digging.” I pouted. “He’ll be sooo disappointed!” My tone and body language was a girl besotted and willing to do anything for the one she loved, and I looked into the older man’s eyes, who was acting as immgration officer, and pleaded. “Isn’t there something you can do?”

Morgan strolled up, looking all Lyran professor, on an expedition. “My sweet, he is just doing his job, I’m sure he’s thinking of regulations and loopholes that we don’t know about, aren’t you, sir?” His body language came off as condescending and superior as well as as amoral.

The man blinked, and sighed. “Of course.” He paused, and thought about it. “Part of the reason we want this type of paperwork sent ahead, is so we know how much to charge you. A rush like this?” He shook his head. “I have no idea how much.”

I bounced slightly. “Well, what’s the worst it can be? One hundred thousand?” I pause. “500,000? Why don’t I just write you a cheque you can cash at the Comstar compound?”

“Ah, Comstar only cashes checks for account holders on Spencer now, due to a slight… rash of bad behavior of some of our less upstanding citizens.” The slight sheen of sweat crossed his brow, indicated he was lying, and I knew, though Ditzy McLyran as I named the character I was playing wouldn’t of course. “But I can take you there… and I’d say the fee at most would be only a quarter of a million C-bills.”

I grinned at him. “Daddy will be so happy to hear that, he was so grumbling how much this cost before. I’ll tell him it’s cheaper than I thought.” I leaned forward. “Thank you so much.”

“My dear, let us be on our way so this man will help us get to the dig.” His patronizing smile was perfect, as was my response, and I saw the hidden amusement of the official as he took us to the C* compound, and listened to Morgan bolivate on archeological research, how he was tracking the links of the Cameron’s pet thugs to atrocities and incitements, and how they were to blame for the people of the Periphery acting up, as all knew the Periphery just wanted to be left alone.

After drawing the money and ‘a bit extra for your assistance, if that’s allowed’ on Morgan’s ‘insistence’, we were back at Xanadu. Morgan snickered. “That was fun.” Case looked at him flatly, pulling out the earpiece he had linked to the bugs in our clothing.

“You two idiots realize they’re going to have that hotel bugged, so if there’s any lostech they get it?” His grumble answered. “You’re playing the ditz too well.”

Morgan rolled his eyes. “Of course, Case. I know Johnny told you a bit of our past, so while I’ll play up the older ‘gentleman’...” You could hear the quote marks around the last and next words, or so I’d have testified… “‘Educating the ‘young impressionable’ noble lady about the past and the wonders… as well as other things…” His smirk indicated many things. “They won’t get a clue. And let’s be honest. We have sixteen mechs, and a wing of aerospace fighters. Spencer isn’t going to tangle with that, kiddo. Not over a wild goose, and by the time they realize what’s what, half those mechs are gonna have the loot in.”

Case looked at me, snorting. “He’s gonna get us killed, you realize. I’m too young to die, and too poor, dammit!”

“And haven’t killed enough snakes?” I inquired acidly.

“That too.” Case smiled contentedly. “Just so you all know, this is a bad idea, you’re an idiot taking it, Solo, and you’re an idiot going along with it, Ferret. Why didn’t we go with Kath’s suggestion?”

“Did someone take me in vain again?” Kath’s tone was amused as she strolled up. “I thought us doing a full fighter sweep as Morgan’s squad dropped was inspired, and us landing and daring to take us as a viable plan, yes. Spencer might only have a company or so of mechs at best, and a wing of fighters.”

Morgan shook his head. “The idea, Black, is to do this clean, covert and without muss. We’d like to link it to the Lyrans. If not, at least not to the Cav, or the Federated Suns as a whole.”

“Foo.” Kath’s grin was amused. “I thought I suggested pirates.”

Case’s tone was dry. “On this, clanner, I got to agree with Solo. Pirates who knew exactly who and what to hit? I’ll even concede we might get away clean, with the prizes. Who knows.” He sighed. “So, you two going to keep playing to entertain the rubes?”

I blinked. “Aren’t you from the Outworlds here and now?” I blinked, to Asha’s glare at Case.

“Yeah, I am. And I’d tell you the OAI or even an basic Outworlds government official wouldn’t have brought your act. Nor would they have been that easy to deal with. You know he took us for an easy 250, right?” Case’s glare was overblown.

Morgan’s grin but no response left me to defend it. “Which is part of the act.” I rolled my eyes. “Ditzy McLyran has no clue, is so besotted with a man who’s taking her for a ride, and is the stereotypical movie Lyran girl bankrupting her father. That’s the idea.”

“And that’s why I say rube.” Case’s point made to his sasification he stomped off.

Kath and Asha shared a glance. “You realize what Case was trying to imply…”

I nodded. It was needed for the mission. The fact that it’d scratch my itches, was bonus, I figured.

“I do, and it’s not a problem. I’m in no relationship, nor am I committed to anyone, or any oaths. While… the fact it’s with a subordinate is a bit distasteful, in ethical considerations.”

“Mission, girl, mission. Ain’t a big thing. I’d expect to get my leash yanked on when I step out of line again, anyways.” Morgan’s shrug indicated as Kath once said, he’d have done well in the clans. Too well.


Dropship Xanadu, Spencer, Late Afternoon Local Time, August 9th, 3015.

Case slouched against the wall as Kath tsked. We were reviewing the video of Morgan’s penetration of the Blackheart base. Alt Cunningham and a few other techs had gone in recently, along with the lone loader and lone salvage exoskeleton platoon we had brought along, as only one trap remained, and that was what Morgan believed to be the high security storage and armory.

“So far, big waste, Ferret.” Case grumbled. “Well, okay, a dozen advanced mech cubicles, one dropship cublice, and a dozen aerospace and small craft ones, plus the same in light vees, not a total waste, but they’re empty, and the armory only had what? A company’s worth of light infantry gear? Good stuff, and packed up and in here, sure, but really not much worth it.” His tone wasn’t amused.

I shrugged. “You know why we were looking here, Case.” Kath nodded.

“Chance of a K-Fax, or Black Box was worth it, yes.” Her tone was distracted, but she was talking about the first method of interstellar communication, one the Star League had kept secret and supposedly abandoned as too risky for hyperspace travel. In the original timeline, and likely in this one, Katrina Steiner, Archon of the Lyran Commonwealth had found one about a decade ago, but she wasn’t able to fully reverse engineer it, until the alliance with the Federated Suns. Which was at least six years away, hopefully. If I hadn’t sent it spinning away into the void like other situations with my attempts at leveraging a better future.

The hardwire communications that we had trailed in buzzed. “My lady? This is Cunningham. I’ve told Major Blackhand this, but we really want that security vault opened.”

Kath grinned. I rolled my eyes and asked. “Why, Dr. Cunningham?”

“There’s something called secure long ranged quantum tangle communications, inside of it, and well… As I finished downloading the data and service files Colonel Steiner’s codes got us, I took a quick peek at logs regarding it. Messages from CIA Station 19, dated sent about two days before receiving… and it’s not HPG.”

I looked at Case who snarked. “Thanks, Alt. Johnny would hit me for ever doubting you being on a waste of time.”

“And you know it.” Case and Alt had resolved their problems, with Alt basically hitting him for being an idiot and avoiding her, because he had survived, when his previous commander, her fiancee, didn’t.

“Bri..” I started, only to be cut off.

“Forty-five to fifty minutes, then figure at most an half hour to get it out, Ma’am.” Morgan’s tone was calm and cool, as if this was a walk in the park. “Bit tricky this, and I bet you it’s how your father got bit. I’d recommend pulling the others out, since if I read this right, it’s linked to other caches of polonium. But I wouldn’t bother, they already told me no, and they’re stating the disassembly of the Dropship cubicle.”

I paled. “Understood.”

Kath tsked. “I understand why they don’t want to pull out, that bay alone will take an easy hour to disassemble, rest? Eee. We’re pushing how long before Spencer’s militia will come a …” What she was about to say was cut off by the communications watch calling.

“Ma’am? Communication from Archer, Commander Blackwing.” She patched it though.

“Hey, Ferret? You did bribe the locals, didn’t you?” Asha’s tone was a bit confused.

“Yes… I did, overbribed, too.” I paused. “Let me guess, they didn’t stay bought?” I sighed, as Kath was glared at by Case.

“You had to say something. Damned clanner!” Case’s snarl was only accompanied by his pushing off the bulkhead as he started heading for where our lance was stored. Kath rolled her eyes and followed him.

“Yes. One Leopard, twelve Planetlifters, if I had to bet, carrying mechs, from what we see up here, and about the same carrying light tanks. Oh, and call it a battalion of infantry, in helicopters keeping pace. Two Lightnings and four Sabres for aerospace cover, and a wing of conair for ground attack.”

“... Lovely.” I hit general alert. I nodded once. “Asha, scramble your wing, if I don’t call you off, I want you to own the Sky, then kill the Planet Lifters.” I paused, part of me wondering where this assertiveness was coming from, the other part considering it Tuesday. “Leave the Leopard and helicopters for later. Time to arrival?”

“Say forty to fifty minutes before they land, depending where, and anywhere from a half hour to ten minutes before contact, based on that. I’d suppose they’d pick the farther away LZ, since your Long Tom on your Fortress can range on the other good one, or they might try an avalanche drop on your head. Fifty-five minutes if that's their plan. I’ll be on frequency choice 4, and it’ll take me thirty-five minutes to be able to start hammering them.” She sounded slightly off.

“Upside a squadron of Vulcans, Lance of Stuka, squadron of Lightings and another of Sparrowhawks should make short work. I’ll task the Stukas to punch out the Lightnings, and the Sparrowhawks to flush the Sabres for the Vulcans, then we feast on the Planetlifters.” Her tone had lightened slightly. “Are you sure you don’t want me to punch out the Leopard first?”

“You’ll take too many casualties to make it worthwhile, I’d say. Do try to stay out of it’s range. But if you think you can, after you flushed the Planetlifters… go for it.” I paused. “Have Archer relay for Xanadu, please.”

“You think they’re going to actually listen?” Her tone was dry. “Done.”

A short conversation from Asha had the same immigration official we had bribed on arrival, and that Morgan had some drinks with that night, on the line. Morgan had patched in.

“Ah, Mr. Morseau. How pleasant to hear your voice again. Can this wait? This last bit is a bit tricky, you understand.” Morgan’s affected Lyran accent and calmness under it amused me. Until the end, huh?

“As I have informed your security detail, I’m afraid my government demands a complete inspection of your dropships, as well as a complete tour of the disarmed and undisturbed Star League site, buried on our world. You understand. They even assigned a fair bit of our military to insist. How distrustful, I did try to assure them you were just after data, but … ” You could hear the shrug.

“I suppose you didn’t try very hard at all.” Morgan’s voice was amused. “Alas.”

“Oh, yes.” the man’s tone was bemused. “Morgan, if that is your real name, I’m sure you think we’re all backwards and barbaric, but really, LIC needs better covers. I do admit the arm candy you brought along was almost convincing, but we do have Burke’s Peerage, and she’s not in it.” I winced. Dammit!

“I hate when people don’t stay brought. So annoying.” Morgan’s voice was still amused. “Ferret, can you deal?”

I kept in my German accent, and responded. “Ja. Estimate is four assault or heavy, twelve to sixteen light ‘Mechs, twelve to sixteen Scorpions, plus upwards of a battalion at most infantry. Blackwing Private Solutions is on intercept. Go or no go.”

“Go. You know how long.” I turned back to the conversation, as Morgan cut his line.

“Agent Morseau, I can assure you if you don’t trouble us, the Archon will be most grateful.”

His tone was amused. “Ah, but my government thinks she’d be even more grateful if she had to negotiate with us, instead of giving us the scraps. You know how it is, so untrusting.” I didn’t ground my teeth, but it was hard at the next line. “I have informed Blackwing Private Solutions that we’ve informed Comstar that they’re a pirate band, and if they broke off, well, we would say we were mistaken. Accidents happen. I’m sure they will understand, and it’d be a shame for you to suffer one, in your pretty little dropship.”

I thought about it. Shrugged. “We shall see, Herr Morseau. But as for what we came for. Molon Labe, good Herr.” I clicked it off. “Tell Armstrong to run out it’s Long tom,and prepare it, and pass to Asha, blow them out of the air. If they try for an avalanche drop, keep our weapons hidden til large laser range, then open up.”

Melissa bin Salah al Din, the Captain of Xanadu simply nodded and turned to her crew as I departed to where the Mechs waited. “You heard the General. To it!”

Shortly I was in Bun Bun, and flipping switches, as Deb fitted cables into my neurohelmet. She patted my head, and spoke. “Good to go, Ferret. Fire the Rabbit!” as she popped out of the cockpit.

“What is the duty of all good men?” Bun Bun’s voice spoke

“Destroy evil instantly.” My response was cold and sad.

Lights flickered from amber and red to green except 3 lights which remained red.

“And to remember, beware, lest you become what you fight.”

The last three lights switched to green.

Bitching Betty’s voice came on now. “Reactor nominal, gyro nominal, master arm off, all systems ready.” Even her voice, the standard for all Battlemechs sounded eager for combat in so long.

Striding out, I switched to the relay for the people in the Blackheart installation. “Outside Morgan and his people get to the dropships. Only mechs and Morgan’s team will remain.” I looked around and saw Kath’s Marauder wiggle slightly as she tested the recent refits we had done to her electronics and Case’s Redline punch upwards. Last but not least was Kalish Winter, who was as quiet as her last name, who was driving a near clone to Bun Bun.

“Ma’am? If we have an hour, we can get the dropship cubicle out. No question. I have the trucks, the loader mechs, and am already disassembling. It’d take a thousand tons, but we can fit it.” The officer in charge of the salvage team stated. “And doesn’t Brigadier Blackhand need about another forty minutes?” I nodded, forgetting he couldn’t see it.

“Understood.” I nibbled my glove’s tip as I thought. “Do it. JUST that one and make it as fast as you can.” I switched to Morgan. “If you could…”

“As I said, a bit tricky, but routine. Thirty-five to forty minutes, fifteen or so to empty the secure vault, unless it’s a motherlode.” His tone was relaxed and confident.

“Understood.” My eyes glanced to the readouts as Uri arranged the other mechs, around us. 16 to 12 in mechs, all things considered, given that we’d have the weight and fighting from our armed dropships, as well as Xanadu not being standard was well within our capability. It was the air and the extra tanks and infantry that’d make this interesting.

“Ferro has taccom.” I radio’ed to everyone.

“Understood.” His voice came back, calm and Collected, with waypoints and markers on where to be hitting every mech. “Dutchman, we want their air gone, y’hear?”

Asha’s tone was sad. “They didn’t listen, did they, Ferret?” She then responded to Ferro. “Tiger, understood. Ware, the Sabres have punched ahead, call it fifteen, the conair is about five behind, the others are still on profile for an avalanche drop, our intercept time seems to about the moment they get to you. Sorry.”

“Understood. Anti-air capable, kill those Sabres.” His voice rang. “Then the Conair. They’re giving us a chance to let Dutchman’s people own them.”

I twitched as Bun Bun’s right MFD light up with the sabers, and tracking information. I suddenly grinned. “Hey, Black?”

“Yesss?” Kath’s voice drawled.

“Deb loaded heatseekers in mine and Elsa’s Archers.” My voice grinned.

Uri cut in. “Ferret, Elsa, Dropships, and any other, hold fire on the Sabres until they’re in large laser range, then kill them. One salvo each for the Archers.”

We all replied in affirmative.

I thought for a second, and a private channel opened to Ferro. “Major. Is it me, or are they coming in dumb?”

I heard the snicker on the reply. “Yes and no, Ma’am. It’s dumb from our point of view, Xanadu alone could ruin those Sabres day, much less the Conair, and Asha’s wing will tear them a new one as they’re trying the drop.”

I thought. “But they don’t know our refits or Xanadu’s capability.”

“Even if they did, I suspect their plan.” Ferro’s tone was amused. “Which is why the Sabres only get wrecked at midrange, the Conair we kill the moment we can, copy?”

“... They want to ground the dropships.”

Ferro’s tone was satisfied. “That’s my bet.”

“And we’re going to chop them up.” I sighed, and switched frequencies. “Solo, do not set the base to be destroyed, what. So. ever.”

“Ma’am?” Blackhand’s tone was bemused. “I’d have thought….”

“Tempting, yes, but they’re going to need to sell this stuff to replace what we’re about to destroy, or the pirates have lunch.” My voice was sad. While part of me, and I wasn’t sure where this came from exulted in the chance to show what I could do, an older part disliked killing the militia, and not just from the thought of leaving Spencer weaker against Pirates.

“Understood. Will disarm what I had my squad setting up.” Morgan’s voice was professional about it. “Shame.”

“They’re having a bad enough day.” I responded.

A dark chuckle was my only response.

“Black, Case, Elsa. Ready?” I had switched to my lance’s channel as I saw the Sabres streak closer and closer, while waiting.

“Sucks to be them.” Case’s response was satisfied and dark.

“Ready. Shame they didn’t listen.” Kath’s tones matched Asha’s I thought, and summed up my feelings well.

“Tracking.” Winter’s voice was calm.

I felt myself settle into a zen like state, as I waited. Shortly Bitching Betty spoke. “Targets in range.” I felt Bun Bun’s eagerness to unleash, but I held back until the moment was right.

Forty missiles unleashed themselves from my Archer’s exposed tubes, joining the dropships and the other ‘Mech’s fire. In less than two seconds, there were no more Sabres, as they simply disappeared under the weight of fire.

Asha’s sensor relay kept going, showing the conventionally powered aircraft boring in, either not afraid of what had destroyed their space cousins, or braver than most militia would be.

“Damn.” My voice was sad as they sped closer to our range. “They’re not breaking off.”

Uri’s voice cut off my lance’s responses. “This is likely the best they have, and they know the score. They’re hoping numbers count, and that they can do their mission before we kill them. Dropships, expect heavy rocket fire if there are any leakers.” I blinked.

“Rocket?” I responded, only to have Case answer.

“Yeah, after Kath’s little band dropped by to say hi to the Domains, they cobbled it together, Cabbit.” Case’s tone was amused. “And then decided to sell it to every podunk band and single world. Surprised the majors haven’t picked it up yet.” His tone was disappointed. “Idiots.”

I thought, in the minute or so I had left as the supersonic fighters streaked towards range… “Not invented here, communication sloth, and a lack of perceived need, maybe?”

Kath shot back. “Think militias wouldn’t need it, or imagine a Scorpion replacing it’s autocannon with them?”

I was silent for a moment, and then sighed. “... Point. Make a note.”

“Done.” Case’s voice responded. “Easy money.”

Fire rang out again, as the small and light craft streaked across our range. They simply seemed to melt under our fire, but three made it into firing range of the rockets Uri had warned about. Xanadu took a staggering sixty of them scattered across her hull, while Armstrong County, our Fortress had taken nearly double that.

While neither dropship suffered any hull breeches, Gumarich Lama, Armstrong’s capitan broke into the channel. “Can y’all make sure that they don’t hit my nose? One or two good salvos of that weight will make sure we aren’t going anywhere. We aren’t Xanadu, after all, after the refits.”

He was referring to the fact Xanadu had a hull and frame refit, as well as other items. She was far tougher and stronger than a standard Princess, which explained why the strike fighters hadn’t focused their fire.

“Armstrong, Tiger. Will do.” Uri’s voice cut across. “All Harem elements. Expect Avalanche drop outside our range in… eight. Dropships, expect the Leopard to try to play ground support and of course… in… call it five. It’s possible Blackwings will murder them first, but don’t count on it. Armstrong, deploy your response.” His voice was calm, cool, and collected.

Even though Bun Bun was one of the coolest running mechs, he still built up some heat, and the situation and my own jitters about the situation had caused a sheen of sweat to be trapped between my skin and the cooling suit I wore, I had to grin. Armstrong County, a Fortress class dropship, had a Long Tom artillery cannon in her nose, like all other Fortresses. But, unlike most, she could fire it without having to ‘deploy’ it in a manner that rendered her unable to move. It retracted and extended from a turret, which took a bit of tricky refit to arrange, and was a bit cranky, and not recommended to leave extended for space ops. But worth it here.

Bun Bun’s left MFD beeped for attention, and I watched as the first tracked cargo vehicle popped out of the base, carrying half the loader exoskeletons. It was also dragging an improvised trailer, and was overloaded to boot, and clearly straining to get the cargo to Xanadu, where I suspected the majority would be loaded up the ramp waiting. It actually only took a minute, and shortly the loader suits were unloading the excess, and the “Regular Auxiliary Support Vehicle, Cargo”, a fifty ton tracked vehicle was speeding off to the waiting Fortress, and a second one was parking to be unloaded, while a third and a fourth came out. Before I could sigh in relief, Uri spoke.

“They’re dropping, it looks like… Call it a company of infantry, a Merlin, huh, bit unusual, a Rifleman, Asha…”

A sharp “Spotted.” answered that call, since the Rifleman was one of the three mechs most noted for anti air capability, and Ferro continued on.

“A Griffin, and a Hunchback from the Leopard.” Before he could continue, Asha’s fighters were tearing into the unarmed and lightly armored Planetlifters, a cargo aircraft, like the old C-130.

In thirty seconds, I had lost a pilot, and her Sparrowhawk, while the other five of her squadron fled back to the carrier in orbit, but not a single cargo aircraft was in the sky, and the Hellcats went streaking for the helicopters, which had turned and tried to flee.

The Vulcans and Stukas, chased after the Leopard, which was now shooting at them and us, while taking fire from rear and front, and the Eagles and Lightnings dueled. Shortly, neither Lightning was in the sky, but both Eagles had joined the Sparrowhawks in heading for orbit, having their armor stripped to near nothing.

The Leopard’s pass, had rained fire on the two dropships, hitting Xanadu harder this time, as well as hitting two of our mechs, and one of the already unloaded RASVs as it tried to scurry up the the waiting ramp into Armstrong County. While it wasn’t destroyed, it had a clear set of blackened streak marks, where it’s armor had been nearly penetrated.

Before I could turn and fire on the returning Leopard, it had tried to climb for orbit to get away from Asha.

“Oh… my god.” I didn’t realize I had spoke, as the Leopard suddenly caught on fire, and rolled over. Within thirty seconds, the explosion several miles away told me nearly 2,000 tons of combat ship had died.

“Eyes front!” Ferro’s voice snapped. “Enemy contacts. Two heavy, two medium, seven light, plus a half dozen Scorpions and Pegasus hovercraft! Engage at will. Armstrong, pull your cannon back! Keep only two ramps down, Xanadu, just two as well.”

The two dropships obeyed, and hadn’t been penetrated in the short exchange of fire, but it was clear both would need repairs soon, and I wasn’t sure how Armstrong’s nose was still intact.

“Sorry, Harem elements, can’t provide air cover. Except for the Hellcats, all of us are DLC, and while we didn’t lose anyone else…”

“Break and see in you a bit, Dutchman, you did yours.” Ferro’s tone was crisp. “We got this, Forward, Harem!” All of us started moving at that.

Somehow, the company I was in, more or less the command company of mechs for the Heavy Cav, had been nicknamed, ‘Kikyo’s Harem.’ As if.

We rushed forward, seeking to meet them outside their range of the dropships, as they rushed to get there, so the ships couldn’t leave. I really wished I could wipe the sweat from my brow, as it stung my eyes. I couldn’t quite parse how I was feeling as the first LRMs streaked across the battlefield, most seeing me, and my lance mate. Case’s Gauss rifle had also spoken, sadly after the long ranged missile fire, but the Locust had simply plowed into the dirt a second later.

“Goddammit!” I snapped, as Bun Bun rocked to the fire landing on him. I wasn’t good enough as Winters was to simply dance though the long ranged missile fire and only take a missile or two, I had eaten an easy dozen, and Bun Bun’s rocking was him adjusting to the loss of nearly a ton of armor. I paled, noting a crater on my exterior window, made of armored plexiglass, with spiderwebs from it.

Kath’s shout of “Keep your head in, Ferret!” brought my attention back to the display showing my fire’s landing. Unlike Winter’s, my missiles by and large had gone wild, though a Commando had taken a few hits. Winters had concentrated on a Scorpion, which was now burning, and Kath had put down one of the Stingers. Other long range fire had managed to destroy one Valkyrie, as well as a second Scorpion, but the majority of forces were still intact.

More fire criss crossed, the LRM’s now all focusing on Case’s Hunchback. I obeyed the order with Winters to fall to the back of the group, but half watched amazed as he simply grooved though nearly eighty missiles at medium range for them. It wasn’t that they couldn’t hit him, it was he wasn’t there for them to hit.

Our answering fire had erased one of the Wasps, as well as the remaining Scorpion light tanks, who had no place here, but a general communication responded.

“Why are you doing this? This is our world, and you’re acting like pirates.” I blinked, as Bun Bun helpfully illuminated the mech making the transmission. It was the Merlin, and her pilot was the same agent who had been our major point of contact.

As autocannon fire joined the missiles, lasers and particle cannon fire streaking across the battlefield, I felt I owed him a reason. I was still back peddling carefully, as my missiles were being added to the fire, but a display showed one of Uri’s Hunchbacks stagger, and retreat towards the Fortress. Solo broke in, and stated, calmly. “We’re in, five to ten minutes to get what’s here and out. Not a lot, but worthwhile.”

I sighed, and Bun Bun helpfully opened the channel. “Needs must, Mr. Morseau. Needs must.”

“Pirates!” I felt a stitch of autocannon fire and a pair of lasers streak across Bun Bun’s torso, and I barely kept my balance, as the remaining light mechs used this time to try to break past our line, to get at the Archers and the dropships. I was drawing all the long ranged fire thanks to that.

“Idiot!” Kath snapped, shoulder checking me into a fire, which kept a PPC bolt from hitting my already weakened cockpit.. “Tiger, Black, Dutchman reports a Union en route. 10 minutes.” Her PPCs fired, and the Rifleman’s left side exploded, joining me on the ground.

“Understood. Solo, Wrecker. Time?” Uri snapped as he fed orders, and watched as his lancemate nailed the last bugmech trying to break though. I pushed myself back up, as the Merlin fired a PPC bolt at Kath, only for it to slightly miss, and score Bun Bun’s back. I hit the restraints keeping myself in the chair, as Bun Buns’ left ammo supply exploded out of his back, due to the PPC penetrating the ammo bins.

“To Xanadu, Ferret. Now.” Uri snapped. His PPCs nailed the Merlin, blowing off one of it’s legs.

I pushed myself up, tasting blood where I had bitten my tongue, and fire raced across my back, as the downside to Bun Bun’s advanced electronics made themselves known. I knew how Bun Bun felt. And he was very angry, I thought while I believed I had heard Wrecker say that he and the last were finishing unloading and would be done and in the dropships in less than five minutes.

As Winters came by to help lift me up, the last Valkyrie stopped and kicked her, causing her to stagger, as it’s medium laser tracked to where my cockpit was. “Forgive me, dear, but you should have obeyed…” Whatever else he was about to do was cut short by Case’s fist slamming into his cockpit, crumpling it, and dropping the mech.

“That’s one you owe me, and one you owe Kath. Get to the ship, idiot.” With his and Winter’s help, I obeyed, noting the surviving Spencer Lance retreated.

I shook a bit at realizing how close I had come again to dying here. “Actually, two that I owe you. That was the so called immgration official.” I responded after getting my voice under control.

“Everyone who’s at state five or worse, board.” Ferro’s tone was relaxed, and calm, as the last RASV boarded Armstrong, and Solo’s voice. “Headed to the ships. 2 minutes.”

Shortly, less than a minute, really, Deb’s people were clamping Bun Bun in place. “Kikyo, Kikyo, Kikyo. Not your place.” She shook her head, as she helped pull my shaking body out of of my chair.

“It was. It is.” I responded, as she had pulled off the helm while we were on the gantry, and she offered a bottle of water, which I gulped eagerly as I felt the vibrations of the ramps closing, and Xanadu lifting.

Dropship Xanadu, docked to Jumpship Norfolk, unnamed system, Morning, New Avalon Time, August 13th

Case popped a beer, as we spun along Norfolk’s axis while she recharged to rejoin the fleet. If schedules were met, we’ll meet up entering the system on the same day, the 18th. “Still smarting at the strips bitten off?”

His smirk annoyed me. “No, I deserved it.” I looked at the cased boxes against the wall.

“Still trying to think if Rohne’s death was worth it, I bet.” Case took a long pull from his beer. “Blackwing’s already written that letter, but nooo…” I too had written the letter to her next of kin, knowing I had gotten an eighteen year old girl killed while she was dreaming of the stars.

“...I know it was. No, is. But…” I looked out the cracked window, it too had taken a hit in the battle, but was patched already, and I was assured that it’d be good until we could get full repairs.

“But nothing.” He pushed a beer across my desk, and I opened it. “She died, so sad, so tragic, so young. So did the bastards that killed her. So does countless others. This ain’t twentieth century Earth, cabbit. Get hard.”

I bit my tongue at his cold words. He was right. But I shot back. “It will be.”

Case just looked at me, his eyes saying what he’d not. “Uh-huh…” as Uri and Kath walked in to ‘discuss’ my performance. Again.

I knew that the discussion would hold around the fact that I didn’t do what the smart play was, and that was stay as far back as possible. I drove an Archer, therefore I should be at least a kilometer away from the enemy at all times. With Bun Buns’ sensors, that was the smart play, the sane play, and kept me all but out of enemy fire. Only matching LRMs or PPCs could reach out, and Uri was talking about adding an ECM mech to the company to make sure those wouldn’t have a good time at that range.
But, Kath and Uri seemed bound and determined to impress on me, long range was my friend, close combat which my martial arts, and admittedly my past life in the 20th and 21st century had made me prefer, was not the answer and was why Bun Bun was still being repaired. Let’s not mention my tendency to pause when flushing my LRMs at the enemy, either. Shoot and scoot was as old as mechanized warfare for a reason, and I damned well would learn it.

Airless room, unnamed system, location of a CIA installation, Midday, New Avalon time, August 19th

“Well, Kikyo.” Alt’s voice sounded though my suit’s speakers. “There’s nothing here but service files. Not a complete waste of time, since this is a really weird array I’m looking at, but realistically?” We had found a roughly kilometer in radius rock, with a docking port for small craft. The initial investigations showed a mesh of wires and boxes at various joins of the web, but it’s purpose was’t clear until Alt called us in. Ran and Kathryn waved off, so I and Case went, since the station was clear, and it was just that, a station for living, nothing major.

Case snarked for her. “Snark hunting. Always fun.”

I shook my head. “Okay, so it’s a giant radio antenna. What else?”

Alt’s head nodded. “Good question that. I’m not quite sure, myself.” She pulled up a display, looking crisp and clear. “Every about oh, 500 meters, are these things on the array.” She flicked a finger on a pad, blowing it up, and showing the innards.

Case’s head tilted. “Hey. Aren’t those in our fusion reactors? Smaller, mind you, but looks exactly like them.”

Alt’s visored glass turned to me and Case. “Uh…”

“... Case, those are exactly that, and they’re KF Detectors.” I paused, then facepalmed.

“Okay, so?” Case clearly didn’t get it. Odd, for such a brain.

I turned to Alt. “How big are these arrays?”

She turned, and looked at a few screens. “Call it several thousand kilometers, at best, in a web around this rock.”

“I… wonder.” I tilted my head, referring to my classes, well, Kikyo-orginal’s classes on the KF detectors reactors needed.

Case was annoyed at my tone. “Wonder what, Ferret, giant boxes to detect reactors? What’s the point?”

“They detect KF fluctuations, the same you see inside reactors, and a jump or a HPG transmission is just a KF fluctuation, after all.”

Alt’s head flipped to the display with the KF Detector on it. “How sensitive would one of those be?”

I shook my head. “Not sure, would depend on a lot.”

“So… this could be a jump detector array for light years, when fully up?” Case got it.

Alt sharply nodded. “That’d do it, yep, and with the computer power here…”

“Can we disassemble it?” I paused. “Rephrase, is it worth it, or is just the idea enough.”

“I’ll pull all technical data, but really? Besides the small HPG here, and the next black box, nope, nothing’s really worth it, since getting to the computers would require us to spend a month and a half. My advice would be to let Hanse send a team back to salvage what he wants from here, but take the HPG and the other K-fax.”

I sighed. “Okay. Let’s do that.” I flipped to the general frequency, and relayed Alt’s advice to the Marshal, who agreed.

“Still, this has been quite satisfying, I’d say, General.” His tone was happy. “A working intact Mobile HPGs, these… K-faxes, service files, and the idea here. The Prince will be very happy. Plus, we can salvage these computers, too, I suppose. It’ll be up to the First Prince.”

I knew he was right, and all things equal, the Argo’s machine shops and small auto factories in their faraday cages for shielding from Jumps, and why did they need those, holographic computers didn’t need EMP proof shielding, after all, that’s the reason they supplanted chip based binary computers, and the only reason. Well, that and they were as reliable as all hell, and didn’t die at the temperatures combat vehicles could get to. Well, the Argo and it’s datacore, it’s repair and replacement capabilities, the K-faxes, and now the fifty-ton HPG, would make Hanse a very happy man, and he’d consider this a smashing success. So why did I feel so disappointed?

“Onward, to the last unknown system?” Kath’s tone was teasing. “Don’t worry, Artu will be what we expect it to be.” Case’s grin equaled hers.

“Remember, ferret girl, you promised.” His tone was dark, but I nodded.

“I have a plan, actually, Case, one you’d like.” I grinned. “But, as Kath says. Onwards to this Castle Watchtower. I’ll put a hundred on it’s another one of these.”

“I’ll take that bet.” Kath sighed. “I bet it’s a Reunification war era depot.”

Alt snickered at our byplay. “Cut me in, I’ll take it as an astronomy watch point.”

Case looked at all of us. “Nah, I’ll put double or nothing, it was an SLDF fallback point, for what did happen. That’s my bet.” His amusement was clear.

“Easy money, Case. We can’t be that lucky.” Kath shot back. “But, yeah, let’s go.”

I nodded, and turned. “It could be worse, I guess, at least we’re finding some things, and as the Marshall said, Hanse’s going to be very happy.”

Kath’s grin was heard from behind me as I bounced though the station. “Happy enough to give you a third date?”

Hanse’s office, Castle Davion, New Avalon, midafternoon, August 20th.

“Ah, Yvonne. It is so good to see you.” Hanse stood up and walked around the desk to kiss her on the cheek as she dropped a stack of files on it.

“If I believed that, I’d be the sucker some claim you are.” She shook her head. “Report via the cut outs from Task Force Medea.” She sat down across from Hanse’s desk.

“Summarize please, I’m curious now.” Hanse’s eyes alight. “I thought they’d be out of contact for at least another week, if they made their most optimistic schedule, at Artu.”

“Apparently, when they recovered the Argo, Colonel Steiner’s codes, and I’d love to know where and how she got them, popped the databanks wide open, and they found a couple of places to check out. One on Spencer. They’re going in as Lyrans to cover who they really work for.”

“Nice, very nice.” He shook his head. “Anything else?”

“Argo’s recovered, intact but damaged, they had hopes of recovering about two dozen jumpships….” Hanse’s eyes narrowed

“Two dozen… but you said had, so?” His tone sounded cautious.

“They’re write-offs, on initial survey. The majority of the people will stay behind to verify it, but they aren’t holding out much hope.” She shook her head. “Shame, but with three other locations, and Artu, plus of course, the plan for Kikyo to head towards Illyria…” She smiled. “It’s not like we’re missing out on anything, and if Artu’s core pans out?”

“Worth it, just the data alone.” He nodded sharply. “Did they send a summary of what locations are on the map, and what else was in it?”

Yvonne’s head shook. “No. They wanted to keep their largest one time encoding for after the Artu find. Unless something else comes up, of course.”

“Well, part of me hopes not, since the mission’s priority is Artu, after all, after the Argo, but … wouldn’t it be nice.” His tone went wistful.

“Don’t be too greedy, the Argo alone might be worth it, and Artu’s databanks, even if it’s just a standard SLDF Field Library for people in the Castle, is still going to be damned useful.”

“Oh… I know, but…” His roguish grin spoke. “Dream big. I’d like to be able to award them massively, and I’d need a good reason for that. I want it too.”

Yvonne’s eyebrows narrowed. She had been carefully tracking his movements, and a few times he had stopped at a very discreet brothel specializing in certain things.

“Again, Hanse, Artu if even just the data core… is a prize. A prize worthy of a prince.” She childed, bringing Hanse to earth.

“I know, I know.” He looked at the other files. “Well. No rest for the wicked. What fresh disasters do I have to deal with now?”

Yvonne Davion, Prince’s Champion smiled. She started walking him though the issues with the AFFS and several other projects she was keeping a tight lid on as they put the Argo and Artu mission aside for now.


Katrina’s lounge, The Triad, Thrakad, Lyran Commonwealth, Late evening, August 23rd.

“So!” The Archon, a stunning blonde woman, waited til Simon had settled. “Exactly what were you up to on Spencer, that had the Canopian Ambassador so annoyed.”

Simon Jonston, a somewhat forgettable man, blinked. “Spencer?” He paused, racking his brain. “Spencer… near Canopus?” He paused for a moment, then shook his head.

“Yes, between them and the Coalition, that Spencer.” She smiled back. “Something about a lost Star League site? Have you been holding out on me, Simon?”

“Ah… no, I haven’t, Katrina. Not at all. If it was a Lyran who disturbed them, it wasn’t my people. I’ll find out fast, for you.” His tone hardened on the last.

“Oh, I doubt it was them. Several possibilities sprung to my mind, but it’d not surprise me if it was a SAFE operation, meant to discredit us and remind those in the area who the ‘good’ guys are.” She paused, though her tone grew slightly sad. “If it was yours, only one person was lost, and they gathered some things, including the data core from the site.” She tilted her head. “After destroying about twenty five percent of Spencers’ modern battlemech forces, as well as it’s aerospace fighters.”

Simon blinked. “Impressive. As you say, tomorrow morning I’ll look into it.” He shrugged. “I can agree with your basic view, it does seem to fit how heavy handed SAFE can be, the Cappelians would have used the Davions, the Davions would have used the Cappelians, and we would have used the Mariks, of course.” He smiled. “It could always be a Lyran who got too greedy, I suppose.”

“Could be. Why not the Combine, Simon?”

“Because they’d have either owned up to it, or honestly, blamed the Davions too. And you implied that they didn’t blow the site under pressure.” He grinned.

Katrina laughed. “True, true. Well, as amusing as it is, I’ll be sure to inform the Ambassador that my government had no part in it, but if citizens of the Commonwealth did, I would so take them to task.”

“Depending on what they brought home, I suppose.” Simon’s tone was dry.

“Of course. I said task. Not punishment.”