New Pontiac, Marduk
Draconis March
Federated Suns
August 20, 3028
John Hawk watched as the skimmers moved slowly down the street, the bright sunburst and sword symbol of House Davion displayed adjacent to the upraised gauntlet of House Steiner. Dignitaries from all across Marduk were in attendance, seated in the open backs of the skimmers, waving at the audience lining the avenue.
Hundreds of light years away, on Terra itself, Hanse Davion, First Prince of the Federated Suns was marrying Melissa Steiner, Archon-Designate of the Lyran Commonwealth. Their union would be the physical culmination of the increasing ties between the two nations.
John looked at the cheering throng surrounding him, and his smile broadened. The citizens of Marduk, and specifically New Pontiac itself, had ample reason to cheer the union. New Pontiac was home to Norse BattleMechworks, producers of the Griffin and Wolverine battlemechs. Norse had reached a sort of stagnation in the last century, producing the battlemechs in fairly constant numbers for the AFFS. With the full implementation of the treaty between the Federated Suns and the Lyran Commonwealth, however, Norse was looking forward into providing its 'mechs to a whole new market.
The new jobs and opportunities that would bring to Marduk were not lost on the populace, whose standard of living was expected to make a dramatic increase during this "New Renaissance" as some were calling it.
Norse has done an excellent job of supporting the union, John thought. For the past year, an ad war had been waged on Marduk, funded by Norse, extolling the virtues of the union with the Lyrans. Other worlds had not had quite the same reaction.
All across the Federated Suns, and presumably the Lyran Commonwealth, there were strong feelings of dissent. The Succession Wars had gone on so long, and had been so violent at times that many people had trouble trusting persons from other Successor States. There was a small but vocal minority of the Federated Suns who were convinced that Hanse Davion had sold them out by forming his alliance with the Lyran Commonwealth's Archon, Katrina Steiner.
Only time will tell, John thought. John wasn't sure if it was his training as a Mechwarrior that caused him to be suspicious, or if it was just part of his nature. At just 20 years of age, he was finishing his training with the Marduk Training Battalion. Such battalions were a relatively recent innovation within the Federated Suns designed to provide training to talented individuals whose families could not afford to send them to one of the martial academies scattered throughout the realm. Upon graduation, the cadets from these training battalions would receive postings to AFFS forces.
As the last of the skimmers passed, John turned to his companions. Like him, they were all in the Training Battalion.
"Seen enough yet?" John asked, raising his voice over the stomping of booted feet. On the avenue before the crowd, several platoons of infantry marched, weapons polished to a high sheen, the sunburst emblem clearly visible on the chest of their combat vests.
Jackson Quinn nodded his head and turned to leave, quiet as ever. Jackson was tall, standing head and shoulders above the rest of the crowd. Born on Robinson to a family of farmers, Quinn had nearly been refused entry into the Marduk Training Battalion because he was so quiet. In fact, the AFFS recruiting officer had been concerned that he couldn't speak. As that officer later found out, Quinn was actually highly intelligent and exceedingly well educated. He had, however, led a very sheltered life on the family farm. Jackson's skills had been sufficient to lead to his selection for the training battalion, and he continued to meet the challenges his training officers placed before him.
Beside Jackson, Kathy DeCour seemed to be a supernova of energy. Kathy's small, compact frame barely rose to Jackson's chest, but few people noticed. Kathy lived her life very much in the moment, trying to glean every shred of whatever life threw at her. Kathy was pretty enough, John supposed, but it was usually her energy that caused her to be the center of attention.
"What's the hurry, Johnny?" she asked, the slight accent of her words hinting at her French heritage. "Our leave isn't up until sunset."
"I know. I thought maybe we'd snag some dinner before we headed back to the base."
At the mention of food, Jackson's head snapped around, and a grin spread across his broad face. "Now you're talking," the large Mechwarrior said. * * *
The trio made their way across the city, heading as far from Babylon Base as they could get. On the outside, the restaurant appeared to be a dilapidated warehouse from a bygone era. The exterior was covered with wood that had been stained a deep brown, and the windows appeared to be covered in a layer of grime. A more careful observation revealed the straight lines of the peaked roof and the bright light glittering from within.
The Tower of Babel, as it was called, was one of the "open secrets" of the city. Renowned for cuisine from all across the Successor States, the Tower was a place where the elite of Marduk's capital could go to unwind. Of course, the restaurant had a special VIP area for just such people, but they could at least get the sense that they were mingling with the average man and woman.
The food was superb, and the drinks weren't watered down. Most of the soldiers back at the base turned their nose up at the mention of the place, saying that it was for the snobs and indigs, but Kathy had dragged her lancemates there time and again, until it became their regular hangout away from base.
At their table far in the back of the first floor, the trio pushed their plates aside.
"So what's for dessert?" Jackson asked, brushing his mouth with a napkin. John laughed as Kathy rolled her eyes. Jackson never seemed to get his fill of food, but Kathy and John couldn't eat another bite.
"You can't afford dessert," Kathy retorted, looking at the four plates spread before Jackson alone. "Not on your salary."
"Ah, but our salaries should get a good shot in the arm, soon," John said, picking up his mug and taking a sip of his beer. "Training will finish up in a week, and our orders should be in any day now."
"Talk about bad timing," Kathy said, staring at her own empty glass.
"How so?"
"Well, the Light Guards must already be in transit for Operation Galahad '28," Kathy said, smiling. "But someone forgot to tell them their hottest new Mech Jock was still here on Marduk."
They all laughed at that. Since her arrival on Marduk, Kathy had frequently voiced her desire to join the elite Davion Light Guards RCT. They all knew it was a long shot -- those slots usually went to graduates of the many military academies across the Federated Suns. The chances of a Mechwarrior from one of the new Training Battalions getting accepted directly into a Guards unit were very, very slim.
Still, Kathy had worked as hard as she could, and she was ranked number two in the Battalion, just behind Leftenant Rand Taylor, their lance commander. In fact, their lance was rated number one out of all the training battalion units, a fact of which they were justifiably proud.
"I know what you mean. Frankly, I'm surprised Morgan Hasek-Davion hasn't shown up yet to personally invite me onto his command staff. He MUST have gotten my holodisks," John joked.
"One thing's for sure, guys. Wherever we end up, it's going to be a good unit," Jackson said, stretching his arms across the back of the seat.
"You still think they're going to keep the training battalion together, Quinn?" Kathy said, moving closer to him. Jackson and Kathy's relationship wasn't any more of a secret then the location of the Tower of Babel, but as long as it didn't interfere with their performance as Mechwarriors, nobody seemed overly concerned.
"Why else would we train the way we do? They're emphasizing that we learn how to rely on the guy next to us while we're out there. They're making me learn to expect your little quirks." Jackson ran his fingers through Kathy's short brown hair, then jerked his thumb toward John. "His too. How many times have we heard the Major say, 'You need to know what your lancemates are going to do before they do it, and they need to know what you're going to do.'"
"Jack, that's just good sense. No matter what unit we end up with, we'll have to relearn those things. It doesn't mean we're going to be together after graduation."
Kathy looked at the two of them. "But if that were the case, Johnny, we'd have graduated a month ago. The training over the last few weeks has been focused on learning to coordinate our efforts and play to our individual strengths. At least, that's what Rand has been telling us. I think Jackson's probably right."
"I hope so," John said, looking at the two of them. "I don't want to break up the band just yet."
* * *
Quinn piloted the skimmer to the main gate of the base, and rolled down the window as the duty officer verified their ID's.
"Sirs," the corporal said looking up from his vis screen, "I'm to direct you to report to Leftenant Taylor's office as soon as you've returned to base."
"Thanks, Corporal," Quinn said. He gunned the skimmer as the gate opened, and slid swiftly onto the base.
"I wonder what the Leftenant wants," Kathy mused, her hand running nervously through her close cropped hair.
John looked over at her with an eager smile. "Maybe our assignments have finally come in."
"Light Guards, here I come!" Kathy replied, twisting around in her seat to face John. "Or maybe they'll assign me to the Heavy Guards, and I'll find out Morgan Hasek-Davion is still single."
Quinn shot her a dark look, and she reached up to touch his cheek as she smiled at him. "I'm only kidding, Jackson," she said.
John had learned long ago to leave Kathy and Jackson's relationship alone. Jack must really love her, John told himself. He puts up with so much teasing from her, sometimes I don't know how he deals with it.
Kathy started to say more, then nearly fell onto the front console as Jackson brought the skimmer to a shuddering halt before the HQ building.
"Oops," he said with a deadpan expression, as Kathy punched his arm. The trio exited the skimmer and made their way through the headquarters, until they arrived at Leftenant Taylor's quarters in the back corner of the third floor.
Kathy knocked at the door, and from within the Leftanant's voice commanded them to enter.
Leftenant Rand Taylor was seated behind his desk, the narrow window behind him casting him in shadow. Quinn, Kathy and John stepped forward and came to attention before the cluttered desk.
"At ease," Taylor said, rising from his desk. He was shorter than the other Mechwarriors, but his skills had elevated him to command of their lance in the training battalion. At his command, the three sergeants flopped into chairs around the office.
"That's not exactly what I meant, guys," Randall Taylor said, leaning back on the edge of his desk and crossing his arms.
"Aw, come on, Rand," Kathy piped in, "you stayed here during the festivities to get some paperwork done, and now you're gonna get all stuffed shirt on us?"
Taylor just shook his head. "It's good that I did stay here. That way I got to hear the scuttlebutt before you three could blow it all out of proportion."
"Ooh, scuttlebutt," John said, turning wide eyed to face Kathy and Jackson. As one the trio shouted, "We LOVE scuttlebutt!"
Taylor waved his hands frantically, motioning them to keep it down. "The rumor mill says our orders arrived today, so the Major should be handing out our assignments soon."
Grins broke out around the room as visions of the future danced through the minds of the Mechwarriors. Their reverie was swiftly broken by a loud knocking at the door. Without waiting for a response, the door was tugged open and Captain Delacruz stepped into the room, a small package tucked under his arm. All four Mechwarriors nearly hit the ceiling as they came to attention.
"As you were," the Captain said, seemingly oblivious to their discomfort.
All four trainees relaxed visibly, though none dared resume their seats.
"I take it from the shouting you've already heard that your orders have arrived," the Captain said, looking around at the trainees.
Captain Delacruz crossed to the room and handed the package to Leftenant Taylor. "I'll just congratulate you now, Leftenant Taylor. Your promotion to Leftenant has been confirmed."
Up until now, Taylor had been breveted to Leftenant to supervise his lance. That the High Command had confirmed him for the rank meant that he would be leading a lance once he joined his regiment. Hawk, Quinn and Decour, having likewise served their time as privates and then corporals, would enter the AFFS at the rank of sergeant.
"Thank you, sir," Taylor said, accepting the Captain's proffered hand. Captain Delacruz turned to the other three.
"Congratulations to all of you," he said, taking each of their hands individually.
As the Captain left, Taylor faced them all with a mischievous gleam in his eyes. "Mechwarriors, dissmiss'd!" he shouted in his best parade ground voice. On cue, all three turned and started for the door, before their minds caught up with their reactions. Behind them they heard Taylor open the package, and all three stopped in their tracks.
When they turned back around, Taylor handed them each a flimsy sheet with their name on it.
They each read their sheet in silence, huddled close together. As usual, Kathy Decour was the first to speak.
"The Cheetahs?" she asked, raising her head to look at the others.
"Me too," John answered, gazing in wonder at the paper.
"Ditto," Jackson replied.
"Looks like it's unanimous, then," Rand replied. "We're all being assigned to the Tenth Deneb Light Cavalry."
Draconis March
Federated Suns
August 20, 3028
John Hawk watched as the skimmers moved slowly down the street, the bright sunburst and sword symbol of House Davion displayed adjacent to the upraised gauntlet of House Steiner. Dignitaries from all across Marduk were in attendance, seated in the open backs of the skimmers, waving at the audience lining the avenue.
Hundreds of light years away, on Terra itself, Hanse Davion, First Prince of the Federated Suns was marrying Melissa Steiner, Archon-Designate of the Lyran Commonwealth. Their union would be the physical culmination of the increasing ties between the two nations.
John looked at the cheering throng surrounding him, and his smile broadened. The citizens of Marduk, and specifically New Pontiac itself, had ample reason to cheer the union. New Pontiac was home to Norse BattleMechworks, producers of the Griffin and Wolverine battlemechs. Norse had reached a sort of stagnation in the last century, producing the battlemechs in fairly constant numbers for the AFFS. With the full implementation of the treaty between the Federated Suns and the Lyran Commonwealth, however, Norse was looking forward into providing its 'mechs to a whole new market.
The new jobs and opportunities that would bring to Marduk were not lost on the populace, whose standard of living was expected to make a dramatic increase during this "New Renaissance" as some were calling it.
Norse has done an excellent job of supporting the union, John thought. For the past year, an ad war had been waged on Marduk, funded by Norse, extolling the virtues of the union with the Lyrans. Other worlds had not had quite the same reaction.
All across the Federated Suns, and presumably the Lyran Commonwealth, there were strong feelings of dissent. The Succession Wars had gone on so long, and had been so violent at times that many people had trouble trusting persons from other Successor States. There was a small but vocal minority of the Federated Suns who were convinced that Hanse Davion had sold them out by forming his alliance with the Lyran Commonwealth's Archon, Katrina Steiner.
Only time will tell, John thought. John wasn't sure if it was his training as a Mechwarrior that caused him to be suspicious, or if it was just part of his nature. At just 20 years of age, he was finishing his training with the Marduk Training Battalion. Such battalions were a relatively recent innovation within the Federated Suns designed to provide training to talented individuals whose families could not afford to send them to one of the martial academies scattered throughout the realm. Upon graduation, the cadets from these training battalions would receive postings to AFFS forces.
As the last of the skimmers passed, John turned to his companions. Like him, they were all in the Training Battalion.
"Seen enough yet?" John asked, raising his voice over the stomping of booted feet. On the avenue before the crowd, several platoons of infantry marched, weapons polished to a high sheen, the sunburst emblem clearly visible on the chest of their combat vests.
Jackson Quinn nodded his head and turned to leave, quiet as ever. Jackson was tall, standing head and shoulders above the rest of the crowd. Born on Robinson to a family of farmers, Quinn had nearly been refused entry into the Marduk Training Battalion because he was so quiet. In fact, the AFFS recruiting officer had been concerned that he couldn't speak. As that officer later found out, Quinn was actually highly intelligent and exceedingly well educated. He had, however, led a very sheltered life on the family farm. Jackson's skills had been sufficient to lead to his selection for the training battalion, and he continued to meet the challenges his training officers placed before him.
Beside Jackson, Kathy DeCour seemed to be a supernova of energy. Kathy's small, compact frame barely rose to Jackson's chest, but few people noticed. Kathy lived her life very much in the moment, trying to glean every shred of whatever life threw at her. Kathy was pretty enough, John supposed, but it was usually her energy that caused her to be the center of attention.
"What's the hurry, Johnny?" she asked, the slight accent of her words hinting at her French heritage. "Our leave isn't up until sunset."
"I know. I thought maybe we'd snag some dinner before we headed back to the base."
At the mention of food, Jackson's head snapped around, and a grin spread across his broad face. "Now you're talking," the large Mechwarrior said. * * *
The trio made their way across the city, heading as far from Babylon Base as they could get. On the outside, the restaurant appeared to be a dilapidated warehouse from a bygone era. The exterior was covered with wood that had been stained a deep brown, and the windows appeared to be covered in a layer of grime. A more careful observation revealed the straight lines of the peaked roof and the bright light glittering from within.
The Tower of Babel, as it was called, was one of the "open secrets" of the city. Renowned for cuisine from all across the Successor States, the Tower was a place where the elite of Marduk's capital could go to unwind. Of course, the restaurant had a special VIP area for just such people, but they could at least get the sense that they were mingling with the average man and woman.
The food was superb, and the drinks weren't watered down. Most of the soldiers back at the base turned their nose up at the mention of the place, saying that it was for the snobs and indigs, but Kathy had dragged her lancemates there time and again, until it became their regular hangout away from base.
At their table far in the back of the first floor, the trio pushed their plates aside.
"So what's for dessert?" Jackson asked, brushing his mouth with a napkin. John laughed as Kathy rolled her eyes. Jackson never seemed to get his fill of food, but Kathy and John couldn't eat another bite.
"You can't afford dessert," Kathy retorted, looking at the four plates spread before Jackson alone. "Not on your salary."
"Ah, but our salaries should get a good shot in the arm, soon," John said, picking up his mug and taking a sip of his beer. "Training will finish up in a week, and our orders should be in any day now."
"Talk about bad timing," Kathy said, staring at her own empty glass.
"How so?"
"Well, the Light Guards must already be in transit for Operation Galahad '28," Kathy said, smiling. "But someone forgot to tell them their hottest new Mech Jock was still here on Marduk."
They all laughed at that. Since her arrival on Marduk, Kathy had frequently voiced her desire to join the elite Davion Light Guards RCT. They all knew it was a long shot -- those slots usually went to graduates of the many military academies across the Federated Suns. The chances of a Mechwarrior from one of the new Training Battalions getting accepted directly into a Guards unit were very, very slim.
Still, Kathy had worked as hard as she could, and she was ranked number two in the Battalion, just behind Leftenant Rand Taylor, their lance commander. In fact, their lance was rated number one out of all the training battalion units, a fact of which they were justifiably proud.
"I know what you mean. Frankly, I'm surprised Morgan Hasek-Davion hasn't shown up yet to personally invite me onto his command staff. He MUST have gotten my holodisks," John joked.
"One thing's for sure, guys. Wherever we end up, it's going to be a good unit," Jackson said, stretching his arms across the back of the seat.
"You still think they're going to keep the training battalion together, Quinn?" Kathy said, moving closer to him. Jackson and Kathy's relationship wasn't any more of a secret then the location of the Tower of Babel, but as long as it didn't interfere with their performance as Mechwarriors, nobody seemed overly concerned.
"Why else would we train the way we do? They're emphasizing that we learn how to rely on the guy next to us while we're out there. They're making me learn to expect your little quirks." Jackson ran his fingers through Kathy's short brown hair, then jerked his thumb toward John. "His too. How many times have we heard the Major say, 'You need to know what your lancemates are going to do before they do it, and they need to know what you're going to do.'"
"Jack, that's just good sense. No matter what unit we end up with, we'll have to relearn those things. It doesn't mean we're going to be together after graduation."
Kathy looked at the two of them. "But if that were the case, Johnny, we'd have graduated a month ago. The training over the last few weeks has been focused on learning to coordinate our efforts and play to our individual strengths. At least, that's what Rand has been telling us. I think Jackson's probably right."
"I hope so," John said, looking at the two of them. "I don't want to break up the band just yet."
* * *
Quinn piloted the skimmer to the main gate of the base, and rolled down the window as the duty officer verified their ID's.
"Sirs," the corporal said looking up from his vis screen, "I'm to direct you to report to Leftenant Taylor's office as soon as you've returned to base."
"Thanks, Corporal," Quinn said. He gunned the skimmer as the gate opened, and slid swiftly onto the base.
"I wonder what the Leftenant wants," Kathy mused, her hand running nervously through her close cropped hair.
John looked over at her with an eager smile. "Maybe our assignments have finally come in."
"Light Guards, here I come!" Kathy replied, twisting around in her seat to face John. "Or maybe they'll assign me to the Heavy Guards, and I'll find out Morgan Hasek-Davion is still single."
Quinn shot her a dark look, and she reached up to touch his cheek as she smiled at him. "I'm only kidding, Jackson," she said.
John had learned long ago to leave Kathy and Jackson's relationship alone. Jack must really love her, John told himself. He puts up with so much teasing from her, sometimes I don't know how he deals with it.
Kathy started to say more, then nearly fell onto the front console as Jackson brought the skimmer to a shuddering halt before the HQ building.
"Oops," he said with a deadpan expression, as Kathy punched his arm. The trio exited the skimmer and made their way through the headquarters, until they arrived at Leftenant Taylor's quarters in the back corner of the third floor.
Kathy knocked at the door, and from within the Leftanant's voice commanded them to enter.
Leftenant Rand Taylor was seated behind his desk, the narrow window behind him casting him in shadow. Quinn, Kathy and John stepped forward and came to attention before the cluttered desk.
"At ease," Taylor said, rising from his desk. He was shorter than the other Mechwarriors, but his skills had elevated him to command of their lance in the training battalion. At his command, the three sergeants flopped into chairs around the office.
"That's not exactly what I meant, guys," Randall Taylor said, leaning back on the edge of his desk and crossing his arms.
"Aw, come on, Rand," Kathy piped in, "you stayed here during the festivities to get some paperwork done, and now you're gonna get all stuffed shirt on us?"
Taylor just shook his head. "It's good that I did stay here. That way I got to hear the scuttlebutt before you three could blow it all out of proportion."
"Ooh, scuttlebutt," John said, turning wide eyed to face Kathy and Jackson. As one the trio shouted, "We LOVE scuttlebutt!"
Taylor waved his hands frantically, motioning them to keep it down. "The rumor mill says our orders arrived today, so the Major should be handing out our assignments soon."
Grins broke out around the room as visions of the future danced through the minds of the Mechwarriors. Their reverie was swiftly broken by a loud knocking at the door. Without waiting for a response, the door was tugged open and Captain Delacruz stepped into the room, a small package tucked under his arm. All four Mechwarriors nearly hit the ceiling as they came to attention.
"As you were," the Captain said, seemingly oblivious to their discomfort.
All four trainees relaxed visibly, though none dared resume their seats.
"I take it from the shouting you've already heard that your orders have arrived," the Captain said, looking around at the trainees.
Captain Delacruz crossed to the room and handed the package to Leftenant Taylor. "I'll just congratulate you now, Leftenant Taylor. Your promotion to Leftenant has been confirmed."
Up until now, Taylor had been breveted to Leftenant to supervise his lance. That the High Command had confirmed him for the rank meant that he would be leading a lance once he joined his regiment. Hawk, Quinn and Decour, having likewise served their time as privates and then corporals, would enter the AFFS at the rank of sergeant.
"Thank you, sir," Taylor said, accepting the Captain's proffered hand. Captain Delacruz turned to the other three.
"Congratulations to all of you," he said, taking each of their hands individually.
As the Captain left, Taylor faced them all with a mischievous gleam in his eyes. "Mechwarriors, dissmiss'd!" he shouted in his best parade ground voice. On cue, all three turned and started for the door, before their minds caught up with their reactions. Behind them they heard Taylor open the package, and all three stopped in their tracks.
When they turned back around, Taylor handed them each a flimsy sheet with their name on it.
They each read their sheet in silence, huddled close together. As usual, Kathy Decour was the first to speak.
"The Cheetahs?" she asked, raising her head to look at the others.
"Me too," John answered, gazing in wonder at the paper.
"Ditto," Jackson replied.
"Looks like it's unanimous, then," Rand replied. "We're all being assigned to the Tenth Deneb Light Cavalry."