24th January 3051

Planet: Maestu

The quiet of the forest was shattered as a pair of Battlemechs stormed into the clearing. The Clint and Javelin took up guard positions as a pair of Valkyries followed them. Without breaking radio silence, the Valkyries split up and moved into cover, taking up fire positions. There they waited, seconds turning into minutes, before a mixed lance of medium mechs joined them. The newcomers quickly split up to reinforce the light mech's perimeter and then went to ground, remaining perfectly still as only a machine could be, their camouflaged hides blending into the surrounding trees despite their great bulk. Several minutes ticked by before the silence was interrupted again as an Awesome pushed its way through the trees, leading a group of heavy mechs into the clearing. They too spread out, taking up defensive positions amongst the foliage. For ten minutes the company remained completely still. With their sensors set to passive mode and their reactors running at their lowest possible level they were as difficult to detect as 12m tall walking tanks could be. At length, the Awesome raised its right arm as if giving a halt signal. The pilot held the signal for a moment before pumping the mech's arm twice. Instantly, figures jumped up from the undergrowth and dragged aside camo netting revealing 4 makeshift repair gantries hidden among the trees, other figures pulled out crates of ammo and armour patches in readiness for the first mechs to be rotated through the repair bays.

Far away upon a neighbouring hilltop, Major Samuel Gibson watched the drill unfold through his field glasses. Satisfied with what he saw he let the glasses hang from their lanyard and turned to his companion. "I think we've got this cracked." He said with a grin.

Captain Max Rivers kept his field glasses fixed on the distant clearing. "We've certainly improved. We needed this; I shudder to think how badly we were doing this back on Vulcan."

Gibson shrugged. "We were improvising in the face of the enemy. You expect some screw ups." He replied matter-of-factly. Fact was they had taken heavy casualties in their first three months of campaigning against the Clans, not least because they had not had the opportunity to practice the tactics they had ended up employing. Gibson didn't know why the Clans had paused the invasion, why they had been seemingly inactive for the last two months, but he was determined not to waste the opportunity.

"Still, she is making a rather slick job of it." Max continued with more than a hint of pride in his voice. The Awesome's pilot was Captain Melissa Rivers, second in command of the mercenary company Gibson's Commandos and Max's wife. "The time spent on drills is paying off."

"That's why we do them." Gibson replied as he returned to looking through his glasses. Max turned to regard his friend with a half-smile. Looking at him, lanky with unkempt brown hair and wearing a scruffy, battle damaged uniform it was hard to imagine that he once wore the immaculate uniform of the 4th Davion Guards. Until you heard him talk about battlefield drill and watched him hammer the lessons home to his troops, then it started to made sense. It was just a shame he didn't have the same passion for report writing. The trained SAFE operative inside Max cried a little every time Gibson tried to submit a patrol report that was little more than a score sheet of kills vs loses.

The roar of jet engines grabbed Max's attention as a squadron of Corsairs tore through the sky high above him. Focusing his glasses back on the clearing he saw the technicians scramble to pull the camouflage nets into place, but too late. As they passed overhead the lead fighter released flares, the agreed signal that they had identified the encampment, then to add insult to injury preformed a snap barrel role to celebrate. "Not slick enough I guess." Max commented glumly.

"Evidently not." Gibson replied, annoyance clear in his voice. The aerospace fighters were a new addition to his command and while he was pleased to see their increasing competence he didn't enjoy seeing his ground forces slighted.

"Rock and a hard place." Max continued. "Without radar we can't see them coming, but turning it on will just give our location away."

Gibson didn't respond at first, just stared into the distance thinking. "Add it to the list, we'll solve it tomorrow." Putting his field glasses away he stretched and yawned. "Christ, who thought we needed to spend a fortnight on exercise a week before deploying; they should be fired."

"I believe that was you Sam." Max grinning. "Should I prepare the resignation forms?"

"Nah, I've changed my mind." Gibson replied flippantly as he started to walk back towards their Jeep. "Court martial followed by firing squad I think."

Max laughed. "After a fortnight on field rations there won't be any shortage of volunteers." He joked.

"Aye, I imagine not." Gibson smiled. "All the usual arrangements sorted, everyone had a chance to send HPG messages, none stuck in the backlog?"

"All sorted." Max replied as he started packing his kit into the Jeep.

"Talking of which, did you get a response from your son?"

"I did actually. He started back at school last month, says he's enjoying it, finding it easy." Max replied with fatherly pride. "Can't believe he's already 9."

"I must admit I keep forgetting. But then I keep forgetting mine aren't 10 years old anymore." Gibson added. "Hell George is nearly taller than me and as for Susan…" he tailed off, his attention drawn to a dust cloud moving towards them. "We've got company."

"Who even knows we're here?" Max replied as he checked his side arm was clear in its holster.

Max and Gibson watched as the dust cloud resolved itself into a black SUV than barrelled up the hillside at breakneck speed. The SUV drew up level with their Jeep and a lone Colonel stepped out. Max tensed up as he recognised the officer, Gibson set his teeth and did his best to affect a neutral expression. "Percival." He greeted the Colonel coldly.

"Is that all I get after all this time?" Colonel Percival asked in mock indignation.

The three men stood staring at each other, the silence deafening.

"How's the leg?" Max asked.

Percival frowned. "Fine, thank you." He replied, obviously annoyed. "Fine, if we can't be polite, we'll be professional. You are leaving on a reconnaissance mission next week." He produced a sealed envelope and held it out towards Gibson. "These are additional orders, to be opened when you make planet fall. I don't need to explain to you what Top Secret means."

Gibson took the envelope without replying, simply glaring at Percival with distain.

Percival met his glare without flinching. "Well I think we're done here. I'd say it's been a pleasure. But we all know that's a lie." He opened the door of his SUV and climbed inside. He paused before closing the door. "Good luck." He said with surprising sincerity, before slamming the door shut.

"Well that was odd." Max commented as they watched the SUV disappear into the distance.

"Yes." Gibson replied distractedly. He waited for the SUV to be out of sight before ripping open the envelope and reading the contents. "He's trying to get us killed again." He fought to keep his temper under control and lost. "I'm going to kill him, I'm not going to stab him in the leg this time, I'm going to cut his damn head off."

"Hold on, hold on." Max tried to calm Gibson down. "Let me read that." He took the envelope from Gibson and read the content. Then he reread it. "This is nuts. They want us to run a false flag operation on the HPG on Moritz. Disable the HPG and capture technicians for interrogation." He started to laugh nervously. "This is a wind up right?"

"It a bloody death warrant is what it is." Gibson raged as he jumped into the driver's seat of the Jeep and loaded an energy cell into his carbine. "Get in; we'll cut the bastard off before he gets back to town."

"Now hang on a moment." Max moved round to stand in front of the jeep as he tried to calm his friend down. "Look Percival is an unredeemable arse. But, he's not stupid and he's not suicidal. This is the sort of black op where the black op team and their handler gets wacked at the end of it. Percival knows that, there's no way this lunacy is his idea."

"What exactly are you getting at?" Gibson demanded, furious, but already his temper was subsiding as his mind grappled with the problem.

"We know that Comstar's staying neutral, passing messages for the Clans just like they would anybody else. If their record is anything to go by they might be doing a little more than passing messages." Max explained. "I think this mad little plan is the brain child of someone higher up the chain. Some sort of a knee jerk reaction to some incriminating intel. Percival's just been told to action it and he's given it to the one group of people who have no reason to trust him or do him any favours."

Gibson held up his hands. "Let me see if I follow you. Percival has given us this mission, because he trusts us, to distrust him enough, not to carry it out." He didn't sound entirely convinced.

"And to be resourceful enough to complete the intent without sparking a war with Comstar." Max expanded upon the point, excitement creeping into his voice. "Look, if we straight up refuse this, some other idiot will be given it and they might just try and carry it out as written. All we have to do is figure out what intel MI were hoping to get and then figure out how to collect it. Worse case we draw a blank and make up some excuse as to why we couldn't carry out our orders to the letter."

Gibson stared at Max for a few seconds before replying. "I think I need a stiff drink to follow all that." He said unhappily. Taking out a lighter he set fire to the incriminating orders. "I think I preferred it when he was just trying to get us killed, frankly Percival trusting us looks to be more dangerous."