Marion’s Misfits
Pt. 2, “The Coming Storm”
Jumpship Good Intentions, Nadir Jump Point
Mizar System, Federated Commonwealth (Lyran Alliance Space); One
Jump From Alcor System
2 August 3062
Morrison visibly strained against the weights on the
chest press bar. His face had turned a
second shade of red and sweat flowed freely from his freshly shaven head to the
floor. Were it not for the gravity deck
on the Jumpship the weights would have been meaningless and his sweat would
float around the compartment. Despite
all the wonderful inventions of the 31st century, artificial gravity still
remained among the science fiction realm.
Most military Jumpships and some larger civilian ships made use of large
spinning sections to create the equivalent of gravity via centrifugal
force. This gave space travelers the
chance to readjust their internal organs from the free-fall of zero g. Morrison had arranged for Baker Company to
have an hour of PT time first thing this morning. His XO, George Kaplan was coming in the next hour with Delta
Company. Charlie Company was still back
in the Dropship going over coordinated battle plans and running simulations.
It had taken the better part of a month to make the four-jump trip
from Outreach in the Chaos March to Alcor in the Isle Of Skye. Right now they were just a day away from the
final jump to the Alcor system.
Jumpships were a marvel of modern times. These vessels were built around a massive electromagnetic drive
system that ran the length of the ship, known as the K-F Drive. When the drive was engaged it would envelope
the ship and any attached Dropships in a blanket of massive energy that would
literally tear a hole in space and hurl the ship up to thirty light years distance. The biggest drawback to the drive system was
the enormous amount of energy it required to make the jump. Hundreds of lithium batteries stored energy
from solar sails, known as jump sails, for the drive to use. The equipment from the sail to the batteries
was extremely delicate so the recharging of the batteries by the sail could
take anywhere from five to ten days depending on the strength of the primary
star of the system the ship entered.
Mizar had a class A2V star, so the recharging was going to be just over
six days time. During those down times
between jumps the crew and passengers had to find ways to entertain
themselves. Military passengers usually
used this time for training, exercise, and maintenance of their equipment and
vehicles. Morrison had constructed a
rather efficient schedule for such activities.
Morrison
grunted through his last reps in the set and dropped the bar back in the bench
ranks. He lay there for a few minutes
breathing in the musty recycled air of the weight room before hauling his sweat
soaked body off the bench. He flopped
onto the stretching matt to work some life back into his stiff leg
muscles. He worked himself into a
butterfly position when he heard the door to the room open and someone enter.
“I hope I’m
not intruding sir,” a female voice said.
Morrison
looked up to spot Captain Sarah Picketts standing in the doorway dressed in a
faded gray zip up sweatshirt, black sweat pants and sneakers and clutching her
gym bag. The Captain was the first
commander of Baker Company’s Striker Lance and was damn proud of the
appointment even if she never really voiced it.
“No, not at
all. I was actually just warming
down.” Morrison looked down and
continued to stretch. He listened to
his breathing as he worked out the cramps in his legs. The pain in his forearms from the presses
was also subsiding. He could hear Sarah
move around the room and the familiar clink of weights be exchanged on the
bar. Even when he heard the long drawn
out unzipping of her sweatshirt he still kept his eyes to the floor. It was at the least the gentlemanly thing to
do.
“Colonel? I hate to disturb you, but would you mind
spotting me for the first few? I’m
still not used to this whole ‘gravity deck’ thing.” Morrison sat up and did a mental double take of his subordinate
officer. The sweatpants were hiked up
over her knees revealing well toned calve muscles. The sweatshirt had been covering a gold and blue sport bra
bearing the NAIS Academy crest which was covering some wonderful curves. Her blond hair was pulled up into a ponytail
that exposed her defined back and shoulder muscles to the open air. Slightly tan and unblemished skin glowed
under the fluorescent lights like a landing beacon calling ships to the safety
of the ground. Damn the rigor of
command. Morrison quickly flushed
fraternization and any related thoughts from his mind and got up to spot for
the Captain.
Standing
behind her with his hands poised to catch the bar he watched her flawless
movements as she pressed the weights again and again. Inhale down, exhale up.
Her movements began to take on a hypnotic rhythm as Morrison clawed
around in his mind for something to distract his thoughts.
“So Captain
how are you making out with your lancemates?”
“Pretty…good…sir,
“ she replied through her exhales. She
docked the bar in its cradle and wiped her forehead with the back of her hands.
“I don’t know
where you dug up that Russell character but he’s a pill. Or should I say he needs some pills. The man has like, zero personality. Just “Yes sir, No sir” all the time. I’d be worried if it weren’t for his sim
scores. Between you and me sir, he’s
got some of the better scores I saw during my days at the Academy. He’s good to the point of being spooky. Vlad is, well, Vlad. Giving a fire support lance some added
mobile firepower is a new concept to me, but so far it’s worked out to be a
sound tactic. Every time there was a
break in the lines he’s been there to pounce on anything that gets close to us,
giving us a chance to back off or pound the poor fool into the dirt. On a lance by lance level, we’ve come out
fairly untouched the past few runs. I’d
like to run some heavier opposition sims before our drop on Alcor to see how
the guys handle some shaking up a bit.”
“Sounds like
you’re doing well. But how about the
new kid, Jeremy?”
She grabbed
the bar again and went back to pumping iron.
“I…knew…him…at the…Academy…before.”
Morrison
detected a different tone in her voice this time and it wasn’t just the weights
causing it. “Uhhh huh. So what does that mean?”
“Mean? What…do you…mean? I…knew…him.” Her
movements were becoming more severe.
Morrison
grabbed the bar as she pushed it up and dropped it noisily into the
cradle. The look of surprise only
lasted a second or two on her face.
“Cut the crap
Captain, what do you mean?”
She sat up on
the bench and grabbed the towel from her bag.
She mopped her face and neck and draped it over her shoulders before
answering him.
“Well, you
know the expression ‘It’s a small world’?
Well, it’s an even smaller universe in my case. The Lieutenant and I were once rather close,
um, friends a long time ago. But it’s
strictly professional now. No need to
have any concerns over me, or my lance sir.”
Morrison
straightened up and took a long, hard look at her. If she wasn’t being totally truthful he certainly couldn’t see
any of it in her eyes. Her lime-green
eyes simply stared back into his and her long black lashes fluttered with the
occasional blink. Damn I’ve got to
get out of here.
“Very well
Captain, I’ll leave it to your best judgment.
Now if you’ll excuse me I’ve got some other matters to attend to this
morning.” He walked back over to the
mat and grabbed his own towel and headed out the door. It closed with just a whisper of compressed
air behind it. Sarah closed her eyes
and sighed heavily before walking over to a new piece of workout equipment.
She leaned
heavily against the side of the machine and wiped the sweat that was running
down her chest. “Jeremy I can handle
fine. It’s figuring out how to get you
to notice me,” she mumbled to herself.
Ludwig Steiner Spaceport, Strona
Alcor, Federated Commonwealth (Lyran Alliance Space)
10 August 3062
1300 Hours
On a normal
day at Strona’s one and only spaceport you would be hard-pressed to justify
landing more than one Dropship on the tarmac.
During the holiday seasons it would be conceivable with the amount of
goods that flowed to and from the planet but not so close to the end of the
summer. Yet, today there was a large
crowd on the surrounding lawn of the spaceport in anticipation of the arriving
Dropships. Word had spread that
Gyro-Tech had hired some mercenaries and there was quite a mix of reactions to
that. Most of the people living in Strona were impartial to the dealings of the
company. They figured that it was none
of their business what the company did to protect itself as long as none of it
was illegal or disrupted the lives of the common folk. Others were outraged that the company would
hire mercs to escape what they assumed to be improper business deals. They were calling on the board of directors
to accept the responsibilities for their actions. Most people just figured those people were nuts. The last of the people didn’t really care
either way, but voiced that at least it wasn’t Steiner troops coming here to
baby-sit the company for its products.
All in all,
the crowd that gathered today was really here to witness two extraordinary
events. The first being the landing of
multiple Dropships. Since man first
took to interstellar travel, spacecraft went through a major design
change. Gone were the cramped quarters,
and stuffy spacesuits. They were
replaced with living quarters the size of small efficiency apartments, and cargo
holds. The ships became larger and
larger as the demands for space travel had to be met. Dropships were designed to ferry to and from the planet surface
because the main units of interstellar travel could not ground on a
planet. Dropships would connect to
vehicles call Jumpships to move from system to system. Jumpships were designed around a highly
technical drive system called the K-F drive.
The drive created a large electro-magnetic field that literally tore a
hole in space through which the ship would “jump” up to thirty lights years
away.
However, down
on the solid ground it wasn’t anything man-made jumping out of the area. About three dozen birds were currently
fleeing the spaceport giving the first signs that the ships were on final approach. Soon after the birds took flight a sound
like thunder began to echo across the wide-open area. Adults and children alike craned their necks back to look up at
the clouds to spot the incoming vessels.
Some folks pulled out telescopes and binoculars to search further into
the sky than the naked eye. As the
rumbling got louder and more intense they looked harder as if searching for a
winning lottery ticket in a drawer full of receipts. Suddenly shouts rang out and arms shot skyward, point out the bright
drive flares of the first ship to break through the cloud cover. The main thrusters poured out brilliant heat
and light like a noonday sun as the ship struggled to slow against the pull of
the planet’s gravity. A second ship
identical to the first followed close behind riding a pillar of flame to the
landing pad. Massing at 3500 tons each,
the pair of Union class Dropships crept slowly down to the
spaceport. Unions were a type of
Dropship that had a spherical body. The
main drives were placed under the egg-like hull and the bridge rested at the
top. The landing gear extended from the
body like long spider legs to hold the ship up when it touched down. Bursting through the clouds above the
descending Unions rocketed another type of Dropship. Much like a severely oversized jet fighter,
this Dropship was meant to fly through the upper atmosphere and land much like
a regular plane would. But the
designers knew not every planet would have suitable runway space, so landing
thrusters were also included to allow for a vertical descent. Weighing in at 2400 tons, the Gazelle
Dropship glided over the spaceport effortlessly, turning with the vertical
thrusters to position overtop of its designated landing pad. The three ships touched down gently on the
ferrocrete surfaces and killed the engines.
The echoing roar happened to be the crowd celebrating a successful
landing by the ships’ captains.
As the smoke
from the thrusters cleared in the light summer wind the crowd could see the
massive doors on the bays of the Union’s opening up and the ramps
extending to the ground. With much
anticipation the crowd waited for the second of two extraordinary events to
occur.
It wasn’t long before the crowd saw what they were
waiting for. Stepping out of the
bellies of the Dropships in ten-meter strides appeared the kings of the
battlefield. BattleMechs. Reaching in height from ten to twenty meters
and massing anywhere from twenty to one hundred tons in weight, these
formidable weapons of war were the end all be all of combat. Essentially walking tanks, these creatures
bristled with weapons and covered in armor protection wagged wars on a scale
that was never too soon forgotten. But
even with the level of death and destruction they were capable of, people
always seemed fascinated with them. The
crowd watched as each mech strolled out of the bay and marched over to it’s
designated assembly area before they moved to their base of operations. Questions and comments rode rampant through
the throng of people.
“He’s first so
that must be the commander. Is that a Battlemaster
he’s driving?”
“Wellallbe
damned..a Clan Thor!”
“Well I get
that’s an Archer, but what’s that after? … What’s an Avatar?”
“Orion,
Marauder, something, something, Warhammer…whew, that’s heavy.”
“Man, that’s
one ugly looking Dervish.”
And so on it
went for the two hours that it took to unload the mechs from their berths in
the Dropships. The Gazelle
Dropship had it much easier. The nose
section lifted up and over the cockpit area to allow the vehicles to drive
right out onto the ramp and down to the ground. The vehicles had delayed unloading so that all the ships would be
finished unloading at the same time.
Once everything was out of the ships and loaded onto the vehicles, the
mechs moved out to their new home for the next year. The Dropships sat on the tarmac waiting to be loaded up with
exports for their return trip.
As night fell on the spaceport and
everyone had gone home from earlier, three heavy cargo haulers bearing the
markings of Gyro-Tech pulled up along side each of the Dropships to unload
their shipments of BattleMech gyroscopes.
Entertainment District, Strona
Alcor, Federated Commonwealth (Lyran Alliance Space)
15 September 3062
2100 Hours
The men from
Delta Company were never one to pass up on leave from the base. In fact they took full advantage of it every
time it came around. They had tried to
bring the folks from Beta Company along a few times, but they never seemed to
get into the mood so eventually the two companies did their own thing. Soon after that, Delta started to get a
not-so-nice reputation. A few pilots
turned out to be heavy drinkers, and even meaner drunks. They had even been banned from two bars so
far. But within the close brotherhood
among the mechwarriors of Delta, they looked out for one another. They even went so far as to find places
where they could all go.
One of these
places happened to be quite a distance from the main base, over in the south
end of the Entertainment District. It
was here that gambling and drinking establishments ran their businesses. One of the more popular casinos was the Dragon’s
Riverboat. It was about twenty
years old, run by some ex-patriots of the Draconis Combine. Word was that the Combine had grown tired of
their business practices and run them out of the realm. On the outside it looked like a respectable
place, but it was also the place one could go for just about anything. Legal and illegal gambling was controlled
here, along with prostitution and drug trafficking. If it was illegal or dirty this was the place to be. The men of Delta Company knew this fact all
too well as they showed up for their fourth night in a row.
Two of the men
immediately broke off from the group as they entered the doors of the
casino. These two headed off in search
of a ‘moon room’. ‘Moon room’ was the
term used for places where people could get their fix of the latest drug called
moon dust. A severe hallucinogen, it
often caused periods of unresponsiveness and in cases of heavy use,
blackouts. Few people could ever
describe the high that came with using the drug. Fewer could kick the habit.
After talking to a couple people at two different bars, Mike Rior and
Kevin Lendar found a moon room setup on the fifth floor of the casino. They took the first elevator they could find
and arrived at the door, money in hand.
The smell of drug use hit them in the face as soon as the door opened to
admit them into the room. Kevin took a
big whiff, and commented that it smelled just like home. There were blue and purple fabrics to cut
down on the sharpness of the normal white light covering the lampshades in the
room. Several people occupied the main
room a few of which were deeply under the influence of the drug of their
choice. Mike noticed one female had
slid off the couch pulling her mini-skirt above her waist showing off a pair of
silk green panties. Her eyes were
closed and a big smile stretched across her face. Mike and Kevin moved to the back of the room to score their stash
for the evening. They quietly purchased
three hits each and moved to a fairly uncrowded corner. While Mike normally enjoyed being able to
mix his up and inject it into his body, tonight he and Kevin would have to
settle for snorting the stuff. Mike finished
up his three hits and patted Kevin on the shoulder as he moved to the corner of
the room to relax as the drugs took effect.
He sat with
his back in the corner, arms propped up on his knees. The light coming from one of the nearby lamps seemed to bend like
grass in a light breeze. The spots from
a miniature light globe danced in front of him like fireflies. He could sense someone standing in front of
him, swaying to music heard only in their mind. Whoever it was nestled their way onto his lap. He could make out the blond hair, pretty
eyes, and red lips. Those lips kissed
him full on the mouth and he could just barely feel the moist warmth they gave
off. He heard hands grasping at his
belt, unbuckling it. He looked over at
Kevin, who was now lying on the countertop they had just used to inhale the
drugs. Then he blacked out.
Meanwhile down
on the casino floor, a mild crowd had gathered around a game of Ol’ Time Poker
as it was called. The game had survived
over two millennia from the days when parts of Terra had yet to be settled by
the populace. And along with the game
surviving, so did much of the cutthroat methods of play. Terry of Delta Company’s Punisher Lance was
in a major hand of Poker against a local racketeering boss. It had begun with five players, but three
folded as the pot swiftly passed $100,000 House bills. Terry had been an excellent card player for
many years, swindling people out of their hard earned money. Tonight however, lady luck was not on his
side. He’d already lost some key hands
where the loss in funds set him back each time. Now he was playing for the last of the money he had tonight. Chomping down on the soggy end of a nearly
finished cigar, he stared at the best hand he’s had all night, which should have
been an early flag on his chances of success.
But Terry was a hardcore gambler.
One or two bad hands did not mean you threw in the towel. It meant you threw in more money to try to
make up your losses.
Staring back
at him from across the table and over the pile of money that had been tossed
into the center was a man he just couldn’t seem to catch tonight. Calmly sitting there, cards in one hand and
a drink in the other he never let on about the hand he held. The top buttons of the shirt for his tuxedo
were undone and the tie was unknotted.
A pair of thin gold chains hung from his thick neck, losing their ends
in his matted chest hairs. His eyes
shifted up to Terry catching a glimpse of the small sweat beads forming at his
hairline. He placed his drink on the
table and shifted to face Terry directly.
“Yous know
theres a dress code in here right?”
“It’s a little
late to bring that up since I’m in here now aren’t I?”
“Well, since
I’m ‘bout to take the shirt right off yous back, I figured I’d just remind
yous.”
“Well, show
your cards then if you think you have me.”
“Gladly. I call.” The man knocked
back the last of his drink and placed the glass upside down on the table.
Terry watched as the man laid down three
tens and two fours. “A full house,” he
said triumphantly. Terry visibly
deflated as the final card hit the table.
The man chuckled softly as the look of defeat scrolled down the
mercenary’s face like a window shade.
He placed a pair of eights on the table. Then something inexplicable happened according to the eyes of his
opponent. Terry lifted his head and
smiled at the man like a predator that had cornered a wound prey. He placed a second pair of eights on the
table, just as quietly as the first.
The crowd around him clapped in admiration for a well-played hand. The man, realizing the amount of money he
just lost to the offworlder, launched himself from the seat knocking it over
and stormed off without so much as a “good game” or “congratulations”. Terry simply shrugged it off and asked the
dealer to collect the chips for him and cash him out. The dealer counted up all the money in the pot in what seemed the
blink of an eye and wrote out a slip for Terry to take to the cashier. The final prize was almost half a million House
bills.
Terry found Jules over at the craps
table after that and watched as Jules racked in a pretty jackpot of nearly
$50,000 House bills. The pair departed
for the cashier’s booth to collect their winnings and head on back to
base. The rest of the Company would
follow shortly there after. Terry
picked up the tightly wrapped House bills and stuffed them into the inside
pockets of his heavy coat and turned to come face to face with his card-playing
opponent and two of his rather large friends.
“I’ve come back for the money yous took
from me.”
“You mean the money I won fairly in our
game of Poker? That money?”
“Look wise guy, I’m not here to make
jokes. Everyone here knows me, I’m
Peter Clemenza. When I say ‘gimme my
money’, I mean it.”
Terry took a step back and Jules matched
his movements. “Sorry there ol’ Petey,
but the money is mine. You’ll have to
win it back from me some other time.”
“No, I think I’ll just take it.” And with that Peter pulled a large silver
knife from his waistband and lunged at Terry.
The two goons moved to take Jules down.
Terry lashed out with a forward kick knocking the knife hand away from
him then landed a heavy fist against the left side of Peter’s face knocking him
flat. Spinning back around in the same
motion he chopped the closest goon in the throat with the edge of his flattened
hand. The man collapsed to his knees
gasping for air. Jules had taken two
more steps back to lure the third man forward.
He caught a windmill right cross in his right hand, stepped into the
attacker, and pitched him head over heels into the large trash can he’d be
standing in front of. Terry grabbed
Jules by the shoulder and made for the middle of the casino. It was time to collect the rest of the team
and have Delta Company make a speedy exit.
Gyro-Tech Corporate Headquarters, Strona
Alcor, Federated Commonwealth (Lyran Alliance Space)
12 November 3062
1000 Hours
John was right
in the middle of his weekly board meeting when he got his latest message from
the Archon. Last time she had sent the
company a message she had a rather authoritative tone about her. John wondered what she was going to nag
about this time. Perhaps it will be to
stop giving money to charities, he thought.
She had a rather annoying habit of sticking her nose into the private
affairs of others. Especially the
private affairs of his own company. His
great-great-grandfather started this company from a repair shop for argomechs
and it had grown into a universe-wide manufacturer and seller of ‘mech gyroscopes. They had all sizes, shapes and models. It was his life’s work to keep this company
together to pass on to his children.
John had a three-year-old son, and his wife was two months pregnant with
their daughter.
John excused
himself from the meeting and headed to his private office to review the
message. As he walked through the back
hallways his mind was still on the events discussed in that morning’s
meeting. The annual Holiday party was
coming up and reservations needed to be settled. The company had a rather profitable year, so year-end bonuses
were going to be higher than last year.
With all the new contracts coming up everyday, it seemed that the plant
was going to need more room to keep up with demand. Bids had been made to purchase a defunct refinery in the local
area as the site for the new plant, making the current one the sub assembly and
shipment plant. Yup, things were
definitely looking up today.
John sat down
in his high-backed leather chair, and tapped the desk controls to playback the
message. An onyx pyramid at the corner
of his desk began to glow at the tip as the holographic projector began the
playback.
The symbol of
the Federated Commonwealth faded away to the disembodied bust of its ruler,
Archon Katrina, Katherine to John, Steiner-Davion. John wasn’t especially pleased to be seeing her in this message
as it only foretold of the tone it was going to carry. It was a small bonus that the message was
recorded rather than live so that she couldn’t see his facial responses to what
the message had to say.
“I
am seriously disappointed that you have not heeded my suggestions from the last
time we spoke Mr. Kaufman. I have
reports here that show not only have you failed to curb your company’s
distribution of BattleMech-level gyroscopes but also you have increased
production to handle requests from groups that have openly declared their
opposition to me. This I cannot
have. Since your actions in this matter
have shown your opposition to the Federated Commonwealth and myself I have no
choice but to send a representative of mine to settle the matter. Good day to you Mr. Kaufman.”
The image
winked out, leaving the eerie silence of the office room to follow. “Now what does she think that sending
someone here is going to accomplish?” he chuckled quietly to himself.
“Renegade
units of the Draconis Combine claiming to be the Alshain Avengers attacked
their home world in the Ghost Bear Dominion.
Other forces attacked Robinson, Doneval, and Markab in the Draconis
March. House Kurita has not issued any
comment, but we have learned that all renegade forces were subsequently
destroyed. House Kurita has not alluded
to any Ghost Bear retaliation, but their control over the media blackout has
many experts saying it can’t be a good sign.”
“Salvage
and repair crews on Solaris VII estimate damages from the conflict back in
August to be in the near trillions of C-Bills.
Investigators have yet to determine the cause or parties involved that
sparked the fighting that nearly leveled Solaris City. Steiner military units have been moved in to
control the events from again spilling out into the streets. The presence of the elite Regimental Combat
Teams has pushed most of the conflict back into the arenas where it belongs.”
“Precentor
Martial Victor Steiner-Davion issued a statement early this month condemning
the Archon’s recent measures aimed at preserving peace in the Federated
Commonwealth. The government, however,
assures all citizens that civil authority and the public welfare have been
greatly enhanced by these measures.
Making the streets safe and ensuring the orderly progress of public life
are among the Archon’s highest priorities for her people.”
George turned
the vidscreen off then flicked the remote to the other side of the couch. News from around the Inner Sphere was full
of conflict as usual. At least things
had been quiet here on Alcor. Almost
too quiet, George thought to himself.
He was enjoying his time out of the hot seat, but the inaction was
beginning to wear on him. There were
only so many simulations and so many mock combats that he could put his men
through before their skills lost their luster.
Real combat hones skills, but it also kills good men. George decided he’d put all that to the back
of his mind and grab his fishing gear and head over to the river to relax for
the remainder of the day.
For his part,
Coleman was not having a relaxing day.
He had been scheduled to run a mock combat for his two heavy lances and
they were just pounding on each other right now on the proving grounds. The combat assignment had been a simple one
from Morrison. Both teams would start
at opposite ends of the field. A Schrek
PPC Carrier was driven to some undisclosed location and the teams had to
locate and secure the vehicle. Both
lances had shot out into the field at the start and it seemed both commanders
were looking to knock out the other and then find the vehicle. In a section of rolling hills both lances
came running over the tops at flank speed into the open and each ‘Mech fired
everything it could at any target. In
live simulations, sensors were placed all over the mech to read the simulated
damage from specially mounted lasers that were programmed to represent certain
weapons. The sensors would interpret
the laser’s signal as a weapon hit and the computer would physically affect the
‘mechs performance accordingly.
Coleman’s Orion
had taken a beating from Punisher Lance’s Caesar and Guillotine
‘Mechs. A Flashman was trying to
support Coleman but was not having much success fending off the pair of
attackers. A Marauder and a Warhammer
were several hundred meters to the north having a PPC duel. Slasher Lance’s Black Knight was
embarrassing the Grasshopper pilot something fierce, and was almost
ready to disengage and find the prize.
The Caesar must have known this because it snapped off a
simulated Gauss Rifle shot and caught the Black Knight in the back of
the left knee. The computer recorded
the impact of the round wrenching the actuators passed their stress limit and
put a noticeable limp in the ‘mechs walk.
But the action wasn’t without recourse as the Flashman regained
some confidence and put the Caesar down with a quintet of Medium Lasers.
The Black
Knight breeched the torso of the Grasshopper with it’s pair of large
lasers, causing the machine to shutdown from the simulated reactor
destruction. The Marauder lost
its duel against the Warhammer and was down with a severed right
leg. Taking advantage of the situation,
it poured both ER PPCs from its claw-like weapons pods into the back of Flashman,
while the Guillotine downed the Orion in a hail of Medium Lasers
and Short-Range Missiles. The Black
Knight was still running around with Star League-era equipment that
included the standard heatsink cooling system.
Right now it was moving away from the fight trying to cool down. Riding on a plume of superheated plasma, the
Guillotine jumped over the few trees left standing to put himself
directly in front of the Black Knight.
It ‘pierced’ the gut of the Black Knight with a ruby beam from
its Large Laser. Already suffering from
damage in previous exchanges with the now downed Grasshopper, the
computer decided that the weakened armor gave way to the massive energy behind
the laser. Heat blooms around the Black
Knight hinted at a destroyed heatsink.
The mech began to wither from the massive heat overload the simulator
devices pumped through its systems.
In one clean motion
the Guillotine rotated to the right and raised the large laser in its
left arm at the struggling Black Knight. Before it could fire the charged weapon however, the order to
cease the exercise was broadcast over the wide-band. With the simulator locks disengaged all the mechs could once
again move under their own power, the simulated damage now a mere memory. Coleman straightened his Orion back
to its feet as a communication from the main base came over the vidcom.
“Major
Coleman, that was the worst display of brute force I’ve ever seen in a group of
‘Mechs. That didn’t even look like you
understood the objectives, you just went out there to try and pummel
someone. I expect to see you in my
office the minute you arrive back with your lances. Morrison out.”
Coleman
bristled as the words ran over and over in his mind on the trip back. Of course Morrison didn’t understand these
men, they’d been on so many raids and smash-and-grab missions that their basic
instincts in battle came down to sheer overkill. That’s why he had used all his favors up to get the biggest mechs
he could for his first two lances.
Maximum firepower equaled maximum survival. He knew he’d never get Morrison to understand that with all that
formal military background getting in the way.
He’d just have to find some way to get his boys to play along until he
got the money up to buy back the unit.
Gryo-Tech Industries, Strona
Alcor, Federated Commonwealth (Lyran Alliance Space)
30 November 3062
0600 Hours
Morrison tapped his foot impatiently as
the group waited for the elevator. It
was just turning six o’clock in the morning and the three commanders of the
Misfits were headed for an emergency staff meeting called by their employer. This wasn’t the first time one of these had
been called since they landed on Alcor and Morrison was going to make sure this
was the last time he got dragged out of bed at the crack of dawn for some
trivial reason. The last meeting was to
report the fighting that erupted on Kathil around the 16th of November.
Kathil was a world that lay roughly
halfway between New Avalon in the Federated Commonwealth and Sian in the
Capellan Confederation. The planet’s
importance began back with the Star League when they decided to build a major
Naval Repair and Refit Facility on the planet to service Warships, Jumpships
and Dropships. With the advent of the
Succession Wars the technology to repair these space vessels was virtually
lost. Rules of warfare had to be drawn
up to prevent the complete loss of space travel, and protect the delicate
Jumpships from destruction. After the
Fourth Succession War information and data started to be recovered to restore
life to these facilities. The splitting
of the Federated Commonwealth caused a massive rift between Prince Victor’s
supporters and Achron Katrina’s supporters, as well as the planets they meant
to control. Right now elements of the
Eight Regimental Combat Team loyal to Katrina were fighting with the Kathil
Capellan March Militia in a power struggle over who should garrison the planet,
and subsequently the Warship fleet it maintained. Units that were supposed to be on the same side fighting against
each other had Morrison taking a much bigger look into the troubles plaguing
the Inner Sphere. Things were going
from bad to worse in a rapid fashion.
George stood behind Morrison trying to
rub the sleep from his eyes, as Coleman yawned and stretched beside him. “If this is to tell me another one of my men
was caught whizzing on some park bushes, I’m going to knock someone’s teeth
in. Starting with that Kaufman fellow,”
Coleman said through a stifled yawn.
All three chuckled at the thought.
When the elevator doors opened, they
piled in and hit the button for the top floor.
A few seconds later they arrived and walked through the large glass
doors to the conference room. Morrison
took mental note of the solemn faces on the members in attendance. Something was up, and he suspected it was a
lot graver than public urination.
Kaufman stood up at the head of the table. Two other gentlemen flanked him on either
side. He motioned for the three of them
to take a seat, and then sat back down himself. The silence stretched on for about a half a minute.
“The Archon’s representative to resolve
our differences in my new contracts has arrived in-system. His Dropships are en route to the planet
now, and we’ve already received the pre-recorded message from the
Jumpship. We’re expecting his call in a
few minutes. I wanted you men here to
help me assess the situation. I fear
that it’s much worse than I could have anticipated.”
Morrison leaned forward on the table
placing his hands flat on the cool wood surface. “Just what do you mean by that?”
One of the other suits there spoke
up. “Lieutenant-Colonel Morrison, my
name is Peter Baker. I’m the CMO for
Gyro-Tech Industries here on Alcor. I’m
afraid the Archon’s position on some of our military contracts has become
volatile. Although we’ve tried to
remain neutral in the growing conflict around the Federated Commonwealth,
apparently that isn’t enough for the Archon.
Per her communiqué we are to cease all exports to planets that are
pro-Victor Davion, cease exports to military units that are pro-Victor Davion,
and re-route all spares and future shipments through Lyran space so that
they may be distributed accordingly throughout the realm. With the exception of a few cargo hijackings
we’ve had, I can say that we are not sending anything to any groups. Our shipments are destined for BattleMech
factories. We have long term contracts
to fulfill and frankly aren’t able to renege on those because the plant’s
ownership has changed.”
Suddenly the other man found his
voice. “In other words gentleman, she’s
means to strangle us for our refusal to stand for or against her. I’m Batt Cooper, CFO Gyro-Tech. I had run some preliminary numbers when we
got her order the first time and based on some favorable assumptions we’ll be
out of business inside of five years and that’s a best-case scenario if we
follow her orders. In reality we’re
looking at complete financial failure inside one year. Then we get this next message.”
Cooper pressed a button in a recess on
the table and a holographic image grew to life over the tabletop. A life-sized bust of an older man appeared
there. Dress in a blue jumpsuit, his
dark brown hair was cut short and brushed back over his head. The suit was none other than the dress
uniform of the Lyran military, and on the sleeve was a blackened spear point
patch with a single black bar above it.
The rank symbol of a Kommandant Morrison realized. The image fizzled for a second as the
playback began.
“I am Kommandant Johann Kreiger. By order of the Archon Katrina Steiner, you
are in violation of her direct orders to cease all shipments of repair
BattleMech parts to persons and rebels deemed traitorous to the realm. In doing so, you have declared yourself
against the Archon. I intend to rectify
that decision immediately. I will be
planet-side in approximately sixty hours from the time of this recording.”
The image faded and the six men were
left in the room. Morrison had heard
bravado talk like this before and wasn’t fazed one inch by the message
itself. The fact that its was delivered
by a high-ranking Lyran military officer had Morrison slightly on edge. The men from Gyro-Tech were much more
visibly moved. Coleman tried to break
the stalemate with his usual tact.
“So what? Some old blow-hard of Katherine’s is coming down here to kick up
some dirt and get into a screaming match?
Puh-leeze. He’ll come down and
say you’re being bad boys, and you’ll say you’re a private company and that’s
that. What does this have to do with
us?”
Baker’s eyes almost popped out of his
head at Coleman’s question. “The Archon
has sent a Kommandant of her military to force her hand, and you don’t see how
it affects you?”
“No, I don’t. It’s one guy! You mean to
tell me that you can’t deal with one guy?
I don’t…”
Morrison interrupted, “Quiet
Coleman.” Coleman left his mouth
hanging open for a second or two before closing it and sitting back in his
chair. Morrison tapped his index finger
on the table a few times before turning to face the other men.
“Mr. Baker, I take it that you are the
Chief Military Officer of Gyro-Tech?
Does that mean you have a military career in your background, or act as
the military liaison for military-based contracts?”
Baker looked confused by the question,
and blurted out an answer as if Morrison was questioning his loyalties. “I had some time in the Davion Military
during the Third War and retired shortly there after, but yes I am the main
contact for our military-based contracts.
Why?”
“No reason. I had figured out the other two, but you I couldn’t place in all
this. So John, you want to tell me
where you suspect this is going?” Morrison
leaned back in his chair and stared right at Kaufman. It was no secret that these two had no love for each other, and
here they were stuck in the middle of something neither man fully understood.
John hung his head and never met the
gaze of Morrison. “We think the Archon
is sending a military force to take control of the company for her purposes.”
Morrison nodded once. “And you expect us to stop this “military
force” then, right? If I recall our
contract, it was to protect you from raiders, not from pissed off
politicians! The Misfits are
mercenaries, not hired thugs. I suppose
you knew this would happen eventually John.
How long ago did she give you the order to stop shipping to Victor’s
side? How long did you think you could
avoid the notice of the Archon?”
“Look Morrison, I didn’t bring you up
here to have you lecture me on the art of political maneuvering. I brought you up here, because I don’t think
the Archon is just after this factory.
You seemed to have missed the fact that she has NOT sent a politician
here to deal with my company, but a military commander. THAT is what I purchased your services
for. For you to handle the military
matters and for me to be able to keep my company running as I see fit, and not
as how some greedy politician wants to run it!” John was starting to rise from his chair as he shot back at
Morrison. The calm early morning
meeting was slowly turning into a heated debate. George made a move to step in and get things under control when a
voice interrupted from the back of the room.
The sound came from a woman standing in
the doorway. Her shoulder-length brown
hair was held in place in on side by the phone headset she wore. In one hand she held a clipboard that she
drummed the fingers of her free hand on.
If she had been eavesdropping on the argument her facial expression
failed to give her away. She spoke in a
clear and calm voice, “The Kommandant is calling from the inbound ships
sir. Shall I patch him through to the
viewer?”
John looked as though he had lost his
ability to speak the way he mouthed his response. Finally he just shook his head and straightened his suit
coat. To one side of the table a large
white screen scrolled down from the ceiling.
He left his chair and crossed over to stand in front of the viewer. Everyone else had a clear view of screen
from where they sat.
The defiant clenched fist of House
Steiner appeared on the viewer as the viewer began receiving the signal from
the inbound Dropships. The symbol
lasted for about fifteen seconds because of the vast distance the signal had to
travel. The face of Kommandant Johann
Kreiger, the Archon’s arbitrator, replaced it.
John tried to appear confident, but only
came across more nervous. “Greetings
Kommandant. I am John Kaufman, CEO of
Gyro-Tech Industries. What can we do
for you?”
The pause for the signal travel time was
already beginning to wear on Morrison.
He shifted in his seat trying to get more comfortable.
“Mr. Kaufman I know you are well aware
of the reason for my trip here. You and
your company have defied the will of the Archon and are hereby deemed
traitorous to the realm. I am empowered
by the Archon to seize your company and all it’s assets and material
stocks. Furthermore, I will be placing
you and your staff under arrest for direct violations against our Archon. I do not expect any resistance from you Mr.
Kaufman, but take heed that I am prepared to detain you by force if necessary.”
Morrison could see the color in John’s
face drain, leaving a pale white complexion gawking back at the viewer. He got up to try to recover the situation
for John, but he’d already started in on his reply.
“You can’t do that! I know my rights. There was no trial, no chance for me to defend myself! This company belongs to my family, not the
Archon! Not you, or anyone else is
taking it from me…”
Morrison placed a calm hand on John’s
shoulder and motioned to let him have a crack at the talks. John reluctantly moved off screen and
flopped down in a nearby chair looking very defeated.
Morrison smoothed the bottom hem of his
jacket before turning to face the screen.
He had no doubt that the Kommandant saw the change of speakers in the
transmission; he only hoped that the man was willing to talk rather than act.
“Kommandant Kreiger, I am
Lieutenant-Colonel Morrison commanding officer of the mercenaries on contract
with Gyro-Tech and the surrounding cities.
I was hoping that we might be able to iron out this situation between
us…” he paused for the right words, ”brethren.” Deep inside he knew calling on the man’s military background was
a dangerous card to play, but if he could strike a familiar bond between them
then this might pan out for everyone.
“I am afraid that it is too late for
‘cooler heads’ to prevail here Mr. Morrison.
Gyro-Tech decided its course when it failed to abide by the Archon’s
wishes, and now the penalty must be paid by all those involved.” An evil smile stretched across the image on
the screen. “Including you and your
men.”
Morrison refused to let the panic show
on his face and merely smiled back at the viewer. “I am afraid I don’t understand Kommandant.”
The Kommandant’s response showed that
his level of patience was wearing thin.
“Let me make it plain and clear for you
Mr. Morrison. Gyro-Tech is guilty of
treason against the Archon. The
company, it’s workers both permanent and contract and all its assets both
permanent and contract are to be seized by the edict of the Archon and held
until further notice. This is to take
place upon my immediate arrival on the planet.”
“C’mon now Kommandant. I think that we should be able to discuss
this matter like civilized men. There’s
no need to go jumping to rash conclusions now.”
Morrison could feel the control of the
conversation slipping quickly from his grasp.
And the delay was getting shorter by a few fractions of a second, a sure
sign that the ships were on a hard burn for the planet surface.
“The only conclusion Mr. Morrison will
be of the history of Gyro-Tech Industries.
I have my orders and unlike Mr. Kaufman I know how to obey them.”
So much for the calmer approach, thought
Morrison. “Kommandant Kreiger, I would
appreciate if you addressed me by rank as I have done for you.”
The smile that Kreiger flashed back sent
a shock wave through Morrison’s guts.
“Again we fail to meet on the same page. Mr. Morrison you have no rank because when I issued the orders of
the Archon when my ship jumped in-system, all assets of Gyro-Tech ceased to
exist formally. That includes your unit
and your command. Your machines belong
to me.”
So the other shoe final drops. “We will just see about that when I file a
complaint against you and your Archon with the Review Board. You have no right to even suggest such
action against my unit.”
Kreiger laughed. “And by the time your message reaches them
on Outreach, I will have landed and taken your unit easier than taking candy
from a baby. Do not be so foolish as to
assume you can oppose me.”
And with that the signal died. Morrison was left clenching his fists at a blank
white screen. He could feel the rage
building up inside like a violent eruption.
It was several quiet seconds before he could compose himself to turn and
face the other men in the room. Kaufman
had not moved from his chair, still staring blankly at the tabletop. George sat back in his chair with his
fingers steepled tapping his index fingers together. Coleman nearly looked fit to be tied. The CMO and CFO had almost the same expressions as Kaufman
did. Someone once told Morrison that
business and politics don’t mix well.
The very reason why he went the military route, but this was certainly
not planned for.
“George get on the horn to Aerospace
Command and get me scans of the inbound Dropships. I want to know Class and estimated weight. Then grab a terminal and find out just who
this Kommandant thinks he is. Coleman
wake up someone on the net and have all company and lance commanders in the
motor pool in one hour. No
excuses. Mr. Kaufman Mr. Baker and Mr.
Cooper I need to know what you intend to do about this situation. Now.”
If there were ever a more serious look
to a person it would have had a tough time beating the look Morrison had at
this point. Not only did he have a
sneaky employer but now he also had someone coming to try and take his unit
from him. The operative word being try. George nodded at Morrison and moved to the
other side of the room to a data terminal to get the information they
needed. Coleman moved towards one of
the many windows to get better reception on the handheld comm unit. When Kaufman finally looked up at Morrison,
fear was etched firmly in his eyes.
“What can we do? You are the only military force on the
planet, save a handful of militia men with heavy rifles and antiquated
anti-mech weapons. We don’t even know
what Kreiger has brought to take away my company. I swear I never thought in a million years they would have
included your unit as part of the company.
I don’t even think I could void the contract and get you out of
this. I’m so sorry Morrison.”
Morrison walked over and grabbed the man
by the tie and hoisted him from the chair.
“Don’t be sorry for me pal. Be angry.
Be so angry that you’re going to fight this. Don’t admit defeat before you even see the enemy. That is NOT how things are done. Would you back down to a corporate pirate
like this? I seriously doubt it. Where are your balls man?!?”
The pep talk worked. John’s eyes grew wide and he stood fire on
his own two feet, his tie now dangling freely between his neck and Morrison’s
hand.
“You’re right. We may not have more mechs to lend a hand, but we’ve got enough
components to refit most of their internal equipment. You can hit his ship at the landing pad and they won’t even have
a prayer of coming to get us. And by
that time I’ll be able to get more support for us, er, your unit and I can get
other companies to rally with us. You
can do that right? You can keep him
from landing his ships, right?”
Coleman had finished his calls and was
already back in the conversion.
“You’re kidding right? Attack a Dropship on landing? That’s nuts. The guns on those things would shred an entire lance before they
even got close. Not to mention what if
they hit us from orbit, like the Jags on Edo.
No need for mech combat when you can blast buildings apart from miles
up.”
“They wouldn’t dare!” Kaufman screeched.
“Mr. Kaufman they would if I was
them. Fewer losses and a quick trip
back home. Right Morrison?” Coleman flashed another one of his famous
smug looks.
“There’s nothing to suggest that would
happen. Plus that would be a direct
violation of the Ares Convention. He
said ‘coming to seize’. That means
they’re coming and landing Coleman.”
“But we still can’t oppose a landing,
not with the small force we have, there’d be nothing left to mount a
defense!” Coleman whined.
“But if you guys can’t stop the landing,
what are you and your unit going to do?”
Morrison swore that Kaufman had to be going through every possible shade
of pale by now.
“If we are lucky the Kommandant is only
bring ground troops with him. If he has
been given enough information about us he is likely to have brought
‘mechs. That would be an unfortunate
situation. We might be able to hit them
while unloading. A few quick strike
raids might be enough to keep them buttoned up until this can all be sorted
out.” Morrison crossed his arms as the
idea played out in his head.
“Oh sure Morrison. You’d like that wouldn’t you? A suicide raid to buy the rest of your men
time to bug out and hide. Well I’m not
volunteering for that and neither is any anyone in my company!” snarled Coleman
as his jutted a finger at Morrison.
“You’re out of line Coleman. And it’s not your company, it’s
mine. You are under my command, and
besides I wouldn’t be sending anyone on any mission that I wouldn’t be willing
to go on myself. So, if you’re too
scared to fight with the rest of us then you can feel free to resign right
now!”
Kaufman was shocked at the venom spewing
between two men that were supposed to be on the same side. “Fellas now is not the time to fight amongst
your selves!”
“Stay out of this Kaufman. Morrison has been looking for just the right
reason to bust my chops. I’ll bet
you’ll be taking my command and giving to one of those greenies in Alpha
right? Then split up my men and get rid
of the ones you don’t like. Go on and
tell me that’s not it!”
“Uh sir?” George had returned to group right in the middle of a full-blown
argument.
“In a second George. Coleman I don’t know what crawled up your
ass but if you have some issues with me then you best get it out of your system
now. I will not have my officers flying
off the handle every time the heat turns on.
This is not how a fighting unit is to function. And I will get rid of the weakest link if it
means the cohesion of the unit remains strong.
No matter who or what that is!”
“So you think I’m the weakest link huh
Morrison. Just because we couldn’t
raise the C-Bills to survive, the problem was all me?”
“Sir?!?” protested George.
“I said in a second Major! I didn’t say there was anything wrong, or
that you were the reason your unit was in financial despair. What is this really about Coleman? What are you trying to get at?”
Kaufman threw up his hands in disgust at
the childish display. “I think you’re
all nuts.”
“Shut up Kaufman! It’s your fault we’re in this in the first
place. You suckered Morrison into this
contract and then ran your own game plan behind our backs. And look where it’s got us. We’ve got real trouble heading this way, and
you’re more worried about how you will keep your company!” Drops of
spittle were now flying past Coleman’s lips.
“Well, if I don’t keep my company how do
you think you’ll get paid??”
Morrison spun on Kaufman. “Not all mercenaries are concerned about the
‘almighty C-Bill’ Kaufman.”
“Oh just listen to yourself
Morrison! You practically begged me to
take your unit on. If it wasn’t for me
you’d be on Outreach begging for work or out in the Periphery chasing pirates
or better yet lying dead on some Clan world!”
“You corporate worm!” screamed Coleman.
“ENOUGH!!!”
Coleman had almost managed to get his
hands around the throat of Kaufman.
Morrison had caught him in mid-jump and wrestled him back a few
steps. George’s shout stopped all the
men and they all were looking his way.
George stood there his fists resting against the tabletop, pure anger
burned in his eyes. His chest puffed in
and out, breathing hard in frustration.
“If you girls are through
arguing…Lieutenant-Colonel Morrison I have that information you asked for. Kommandant Johann Kreiger. He’s seen combat since his graduation in
’25. Fought against Kurita, and Liao
before ’50, battled the Jade Falcons until ’53. Got more commendations and battlefield ribbons than you can shake
a stick at. Was given a puffy command
post on Hesperus II guarding Defiance Industries as a Battalion Commander in
the 15th Lyran Guard RCT.
Scans of the ships show one Overlord Class and two Triumph
Class Dropships inbound. All are
reading maximum weight.”
Morrison dropped Coleman from his grasp
and turned to face George. “Which
means…”
“Precisely sir. Kreiger is dropping on our heads with a
battalion of ‘mechs and a battalion of heavy vehicles.”
Coleman slid from the table into the
nearest chair. “Dear God in heaven…”
Morrison closed his eyes crossed his
arms and took in a deep breath that he held for a few seconds before exhaling
it loudly. Kaufman looked from George
to Morrison.
“Christ, that’s a company in mechs and
two in vehicles more than you guys.
What are you going to do Morrison?”
He opened his eyes and stared straight back at Kaufman.
“I love your vote of confidence Kaufman. George, sound the General Alarm. We’re going to war.”