Operation Jungle Drums

by Deadborder

Sequel to We lie, we cheat, we steal . An expedition to a mysterious planet in the deep periphery searches for a lost civilization - or at least, so they claim. But there's a lot more going on here then it seems.

Jumpship Buck Nedreck

Zenith Jump Point, Martin Place System

Deep Periphery, Anti-Spinward of the Lyran Alliance

1 December 3073

Reven was paralysed with terror; sweat dripped down her brow, her breathing heavy. Her eyes, wide with fear, watched the gloved hand as it readied the needle. She wanted to run away, but she knew she couldn't.

"Hold still. This won't hurt a bit, Ms Dyron."

All she could do was clench her teeth and hope that it would be over as soon as possible. The needle went in to her arm; the injection was swift, the liquid vanishing from the clear plastic tube and into her. And then, just as quickly, it was over.

"There you go." The ship's doctor began. "That should cover you against any nasties you find on world."

"Thanks." She weakly managed, rubbing her arm.

"Don't mention it." He cheerfully added. "Its standard issue for all IE Operations, really. We want to only bring back our past, not some exotic disease."

Her stomach churned. "I'll keep that in mind." She finished as she pulled on her jacket, and stepped out of the sickbay.

"So our big, bad leader is afraid of needles." Z-One commented. He was leaning against the bulkhead. "I shoulda known."

"Shut up, you." She shot back as she stomped past him. "Why did I take this damn job?"

He followed after her. "Because the pay looked good, Mr Watanabe spun it out good and Lambchop said it sounded like a good idea." He offered in reply. "Oh, and because you figured that there was very little chance of the Word lobbing a nuke at us." He added.

She glared at him, her green eyes narrowing.

"But then, who am I to argue with the most capable, competent, dynamic, brilliant and sexy mercenary leader in the Inner Sphere?" His voice dripped obvious sarcasm.

"Why thanks." She smiled back. "So let's go see what the hole-diggers have to say."

-----

The Bud Nedreck's situation room was adequate for its needs; a Merchant-class Jumpship, it was originally designed for commercial use. Over the years, various owners had updated and improved its capabilities, but the small size of the room still remained an issue. With the officers of the Storm Riders, as well as their employers all present, it certainly seemed small enough.

As Reven entered (last, as usual. She called it "fashionably late"), she took the time out to study her would-be employers. Their leader, the one she'd had the most contact with so far, was a weather-beaten man. Tall and gaunt, his face spoke of years in the field under harsh conditions, with constant exposure to the elements. His attire reflected this; thick-rimmed glasses, a battered, broad-rimmed hat that he wore even indoors and a jacket over fatigues, both of which were worn and showed signs of numerous repairs.

"Thank you for joining us." He began, his voice genuinely earnest. "For those of you who haven't met me yet, my name is Doctor Parker Lane. I'm an archaeologist with Interstellar Expeditions." He gave a small nod towards the assembled mercenaries. "This is my assistant, Armin Mukabe." He indicated to the man on his right. Dark skinned and heavyset, his eyes were clearly watching those in the room; he certainly didn't seem to be an archaeologist; to Reven's eyes, he looked more like a soldier.

"Recently, Interstellar Expeditions came into some information regarding one of our research projects." He continued. "That information lead us here, to this system, code-named 'Martin Place'." He pressed several buttons on the display, bringing up an image of a planet. "Specifically, this, the third planet in the system."

"According to our information, this planet is inhabited by several groups of people, the descendants of an Age of War-era colony. We are aiming to make contact with those people while investigating their culture, and, from there, see they can lead us to the relics that we seek." As he spoke, the image zoomed in, unfolding to a map of the planet.

He gave a little sigh, putting his hands behind his back. "Unfortunately, we know that, despite their relative technological primitivism and small populations, they are also rather well armed and somewhat hostile to outsiders. As a result, we need to take precautions against an attack. While we hope to conduct our negotiations in peace, we feel that the risk involved requires additional protection."

He looked up, again surveying the collected officers. "That is why we have hired your unit, to protect us. We know that the local forces are armed with primitive armour and infantry, roughly on-par with Succession Wars-era militia units. Your unit came highly recommended to us for your professionalism as well as the quality of your warriors and equipment."

"Why thank you." Reven replied, her voice oozing false modesty.

He nodded back. "While we do not anticipate facing hostile forces, we must be prepared for such eventualities." The map zoomed in on one area on the planet's northern continent. "Our initial landing will be here, in what was once the planet's capitol; while it has been abandoned for some time, it still has landing facilities that will be capable of handling our ships. From there, we will set out to locate and make contact with the locals and, hopefully, begin negotiations for the information that we need."

The map zoomed out to show a wider area around the capitol. "We know that they have several communities in this area. However, our previous information is several decades out of date, and rather scanty at best. As such, again, we will need to take precautions against a change in the planetary situation."

"However, even with these risks, we feel that the rewards will be worth it." He finished.

"What exactly are you looking for?" Rick Zaurus asked. "What's so special about this planet and its people, Doctor Lane?"

Lane gave a weak smile. "While my employer would prefer it if I didn't go into detail, we feel that the people of Martin Place could have connections to the Huitzipochitili Colonies of the deep anti-spinward region. Suffice to say, this could be very big." He gave a short pause. "And certainly, if these discoveries were to pan out, we would require more assistance from your unit – and certainly be sure to mention you when we publish our findings."

"Gotcha." Rick replied with a nod.

"As said, we will make our landing here." He indicated to the capitol region. "In the very likely advent that the capitol is still uninhabited, my support personnel will help secure our landing zone, while we set out to locate and make contact with the native population."

Reven studied the man, then leaned towards Z-One. "What do you think?" She quietly asked.

"He's lying. He's good, but he's lying." He replied.

"Agreed. He's a professional con this one; very good at spinning a story and making it sound good." She stated. "I speak from experience."

"Takes one to know one?" He asked.

"Exactly." She agreed. "Though I have to wonder what he's after. The Hutzapocally Colonies? What are those?"

"Fictional." Z-One stated confidently. "The Huitzipochitili Colonies are a faction from a rather bad miniatures game from the early thirty-teens. Went out of print after a few years, and the fiction was terrible."

She blinked at him, genuinely surprised.

"Hey, a guy has to have his hobbies." He sounded almost defensive.

"Whatever." She finished. "But we'll have to keep an eye on him. Regardless of what's going on, I want to make sure that I don't get stranded in the deep periphery, stabbed in the back or, even worse, not paid."

"Good to see that you have your priorities straight, as always."

-----

Dropship Hammershark, Inbound

Martin Place

Deep Periphery, Anti-Spinward of the Lyran Alliance

8 December 3073

Seated in the command couch of her Black Knight, Reven couldn't do anything but wait for the dropship to land. Still locked in its transport cradle, her Mech was ready to go as soon as the ship touched down. She reviewed the situation one last time; Z-One's recce flight had shown no signs of opposition – or anyone – at the LZ; however, the thick jungle meant that there could be forces waiting in ambush for anyone foolish enough to land in the long-abandoned drop-port.

The roar of the engines reached a crescendo as the thrust blasted against the solid ferrocrete of the landing pad before the ship settled with a jarring thud; the engines just as abruptly dying away. "Ship is down." Captain Carl Bob's voice came over her command channel. "We are clear."

"Releasing mechs." A second voice called over the channel. "All units clear for drop"

Confirming the release on her mech, she opened up a link to her company. "Reven to all Storm Riders. We are clear for drop. Go!" Powering on her mech form its standby mode, she opened the throttle, easing it forward. The seventy-five ton war machine left its cradle, heading down the launch ramp to the bay door, which was opening, blazing daylight pouring in from outside. As soon as it was open, she pushed her mech forward, dropping the last few meters out of the door to the ground.

The mech landed in a crouch, guided upright by Reven's guidance through the neurohelmet; at her urging, the machine started forward, its torso sweeping left to right as she advanced, its arms outstretched and ready for any enemies that may appear. Around her was a world of gray and green; a landscape of crumbling, centuries old concrete buildings that were slowly being reclaimed by the jungle, which stretched out in the distance like an ocean.

Steve's Axeman advanced next to her machine, its weapons at the ready. Behind her, she could see the rest of the unit forming up in their lances; Rick's Awesome leading one group, and Lambchop's Wraith at the head of the other. Checking her command channel showed that all mechs were down and clear. "Command lance clear." She called out. "No sign of enemy units."

"Assault lance clear." Rick called back. "No sign of enemy units."

"Strike lance clear." Lambchop finished. "No sign of enemy units."

"Confirmed." She finished. "Landing zone is secure. All forces stand ready at perimeter of drop port until the Relic Raider is down."

Clean, neat, professional and determined. Reven couldn't help but smile. She liked being in command, especially when things went exactly to plan.

Several minutes later, a second dropship landed; a sleek Buccaneer, its aerodynamic form stood in stark contrast to the spherical Union. The ship's hull was battered and worn; much like the members of its crew that Reven had met, it suggested a harsh life of service and hard work.

As soon as the ship was down, its bay doors opened, allowing its cargo to disembark. Leading the procession was a rather oddball vehicle; two segmented ovoid bodies riding on two pairs of treads with a pair of manipulator arms waving around the front, the vehicle looked more like a giant caterpillar than anything else. Another pair followed it, the three odd vehicles pulled out onto the drop-port.

"Magellan exploration vehicles" Lambchop commented over the command channel. "Environmentally sealed all-terrain explorers that can go pretty much anywhere and have the facilities to support an expedition for weeks on end. With one of those babies, you could roam across an entire planet if you wanted to. They're top-flight too, used by the best of the exploration community."

"How do you know so much about them?" She asked back.

"I read car magazines."

"Huh." Was all she could muster before turning back to the dropship. Following the Magellans were several tracked trucks, followed by what at first seemed to be a trio of Battlemechs. Small and slim, they seemed to lack the heavy armour that was common to even the lightest of mechs; one of them even lacked obvious weapons. Her mech's systems identified them as a Marco and a pair of Coppers, designs she wasn't familiar with."

"Utility mechs." Lambchop spoke up again, as if to answer her unspoken question. "The Marco is designed for exploration, much like the Magellans. Conversely the Copper is a security or policing mech; good against, say, rioters or urban criminals, but not worth much on the battlefield. Good security for an expedition though."

"So these guys are packing some rather top grade gear." She replied.

"Makes me wonder what they're expecting here." Rick added, cutting in on the channel. "Or how long they're planning to be down here. From where I'm sitting, it seems like they're in for the long haul."

Reven considered this for whole seconds before shrugging. "Well, as long as they pay us for our time, I don't care."

A beep from her communicator cut off any further replies. "This is Doctor Lane." The voice of the chief archaeologist began. "Our units are down on site. We will begin investigation of the site."

"Confirmed." She nodded. "Lambchop, I want your lance to scout the area, make sure that there's nobody further out. Report in if you make contact with anyone or anything."

"Yes, my queen!" She shot back. Glancing behind her, she could see his Wraith heading towards the jungle. The mech sported a sensible green and brown camouflage pattern that seemed suitable for its environment; the effect was rather offset by Ford's coral and yellow Venom next to it.

"Everyone else, stand down for the moment, but be ready to go if needs be." She slumped back in the command couch, a confident smile on her face. Leadership is hard work. Time for a break.

-----

"Fascinating." One of the members of the archaeological team began as he looked over the massive dropship hanger. The building itself had been ravaged by the passage of the centuries; while still intact, there were gaping holes in its roof, allowing sunlight to pour in, as well as greenery. Vines had drown all over the roof and walls, while pools of water had formed on the floor. For the most part, the machinery inside the hanger had rusted away long ago, or been consumed by the encroaching plants.

What was more interesting was the dropship that dominated the hanger; an aerodyne design like the archaeologists' Buccaneer, the ship was a lot larger. It was also very primitive-looking, its design rather blocky and clumsy looking, with a thick body and short, stubby wings. Like the hangar, the ship was worn and battered; its hull was streaked with rust, while vines had grown both in and on the ship.

"An age of war era Charlotte-class cargo dropship." He continued as he looked over it. "The design was obsolete by the end of the Age of War, and long since replaced; the existing models proved to be uneconomical in the face of newer ship classes, and it doesn't appear that any were preserved." He looked over it. "This may be the most intact example of the class known to exist."

"Fascinating" Reven replied in a tone that suggested apocalyptic boredom.

"If we could salvage it, the value to naval historians would be incredible." He continued, not noticing her complete disinterest. "What we have from the era are schematics and pictures, but very few actual physical examples of the vessels of the time. Of course, how we would do that is another matter." He shook his head. "Only a fool would think that it could still fly; I suspect that it may not even be structurally sound."

"Indeed." She continued, glancing around the hanger as if hoping that something would happen. At this point, she was hoping that there were giant space monsters lurking in the jungles that she could bravely fight in her mech.

"Besides, there are other issues, ones that are quite interesting."

This perked her interest. "Really?" She glanced over at him, suddenly curious.

"Oh yes." He indicated towards the aft of the ship, where there were numerous missing panels. Below them the exposed machinery looked badly damaged; while Reven was no expert on dropship engineering, she could tell when something was broken. "See those exposed engine components?"

"Yeah?" She was wondering where this was going.

"The damage to those engines is not a result of wear or deterioration over time. Somebody deliberately destroyed the engines on this ship in order to ground it. One can only wonder why they did it."

"Yeah." She glanced around the ruined hangar. "Who'd want to strand themselves on a hellhole like this?"

"I'd like to check its logs to see if there's any further information." He continued. "However, I suspect that not only would the ship's interior be hazardous to access, but the computer itself is probably long decayed into scrap."

"Probably." She finished, all the interest suddenly draining from her tone. Convinced there was nothing of any actual value here, she strode outside to the ruined drop port. The overhead sun beat down, the temperature outside oppressively hot, enough to bring out a sweat in minutes. It was as bad as being in a mech's cockpit in the heat of battle. Reven had ordered her men to dress appropriately for the situation; lightweight clothes that would stop them from overheating.

Of course, in Reven's case, "dress appropriately" meant a bikini top and hip-hugging pants that meant that everyone would be looking at her

She wandered over to another building where Z-One was waiting in the shade. He had decided not to dress down, remaining in his signature flightsuit, bandanna and helmet. "Subtle as ever, boss." He commented as she approached.

"Its camouflage." She commented as she indicated to the pattern on the top and pants. "Its appropriate"

"Yeah, and all that exposed pink skin isn't gonna stand out at all." He shot back.

She gave an angry growl. "Like you can talk. Aren't you baking in that?"

He shrugged. "Professional secret." He glanced over at his commander. "So found anything?"

Reven shook her head, tossing around her impractically long and thick hair. "An ancient dropship that's the last of its type and was apparently deliberately sabotaged so it would never take off." She stated, her voice dripping with the obvious lack of interest in the subject matter. "Apparently it's a unique example of naval architecture or something like that. You would have found it fascinating."

"Possibly." He shot back. "But it doesn't tell us a thing about what IE is doing here, or why they need us. But I might take a look at it later."

"You find anything?" She asked, looking hopeful.

"There are centuries-old snacks still in the vending machines inside the port. I want to see if Steve will eat one."

"Ack. That's disgusting." She sneered, then paused. "Twenty says he will."

"It's Steve. Getting him to do something stupid is easy." Z-One offered. "After all, he's slavishly loyal to you and pilots an Axeman. Anything after that is minor."

"You don't need to be stupid to be loyal to me." She angrily replied. "His loyalty comes from my natural charm and forceful presence."

"And you're saying that while wearing a bikini top and pants that you're all but falling out of." He finished.

She glared at him again. "So we have no leads as yet then."

"No." He admitted. "For now, all we know is that it's on this world. And, I suspect, not here." Z-One glanced around. "I'm beginning to suspect that this is partially a show for us. They're looking over this place, but they're aiming to throw us off. Their bosses are plotting their next objective, while the others are pretending to do work"

"Huh." She looked around the ruined drop port. "I wonder why."

"So we don't figure out what they're really up to, I'd wager." He explained. "Everything they're doing here could be signs of what they're looking for to us. We have to look for what's actually legitimate and what's just a show."

"True." In spite of the heat, she couldn't help but shudder. Looking around the port, it seemed so familiar in many ways; the ruined buildings that had been abandoned for centuries and left to crumble, the sense of haunting emptiness and desolation. The presence of the dropships and mechs didn't help; if anything, they made it worse. They seemed so alien compared to the rest of the environment, as if they were intruders who had come uninvited into this world. The results were unsettling.

It reminded her of things that had happened in past. Places that she'd been.

"You know." Z-One commented. "This place reminds me of P-:"

"Don't say it." She shouted back at him.

"Sorry." He offered, his voice suddenly meek.

She sighed loudly. "We need to get out of this place." Reven looked around. "You say that some of these guys might be just doing make work to look busy?"

"It's a theory, yeah." He admitted.

"So..." Reven rubbed her chin, a devious look on her face. "Let's see if we can do a test, find out who's taking their job seriously and who isn't."

"And how do you plan to do that?"

She grinned. "Just watch the master at work." Giving an almost theatrical twirl, she strutted away from him, heading over to a member of the archaeological crew who was taking photos of the ruined buildings. As he watched, Z-One saw her interpose herself between the camera and the structure, hands on hips.

Within a minute, she was busy posing up a storm, strutting, pouting and carrying on like she was a model on a magazine shoot, not a mercenary commander in the middle of a distant periphery world, abandoned for centuries. And he was eating it up, taking photos of her and not the building behind her.

"Oh." He commented, grinning behind his mask. "Some days, boss, you can be really, really clever."

-----

Over the Jungle

Martin Place

Deep Periphery, Anti-Spinward of the Lyran Alliance

12 December 3073

For Z-One, the mission to Martin Place was both boring and interesting. The interest came largely from trying to figure out exactly what it was that Interstellar Expeditions were doing here and what they were after; trying to determine what of the work they were doing was legitimate and what was there just to cover their tracks. And, above all else, trying to figure if whatever it was that they were doing was a threat to the Storm Riders' continued existence, or whether it meant they would just get a big bucket of hush money at the end.

The boredom came from the fact that he had nothing much else to do. As one of the Inner Sphere's best Stingray pilots (not the best, a point that he went to great lengths to emphasise) his talents were pretty much wasted here. His tasks consisted of mainly flying over the jungle to confirm information that was being fed to them by IE's survey satellites, determining what was a settlement that had been obscured by jungle (or deliberately camouflaged) and what was just a rather curious rock formation.

He'd found a lot of rocks. He'd taken pictures of them. He was considering writing a coffee-table book about the rocks of Martin Place when he got back to the Inner Sphere.

It wasn't a hard or a satisfying task, and certainly not one that required a talented pilot in a multi-million C-bill aerospace fighter to achieve; certainly it could be done by a Boomerang spotter plane piloted by a trained chimp.

"Oookay." He spoke into the communicator, his voice slurring with obvious boredom as he did. "Approaching grid reference F7U3M, suspected settlement partially obscured by jungle. Underwing recon pod is online and active. Beginning recon run on target which I know will be a pile of rocks."

"Confirmed, Red Wing One." The voice of the IE operator on the other end replied, not acknowledging his comments.

He closed the channel. "Waste of perfectly good sarcasm right there and then." He added, looking over the approaching site. Certainly it seemed like nothing more than a small clearing in the jungle, but time would tell if it was anything else. The Stingray's terrain-following radar was mapping the area ahead, feeding the information into its flight recorders for analysis. Meanwhile, the various imagers and sensors on the pod would be recording all they saw and interpreting it as they could.

Switching over his multi-function displays, he toggled a live feed from the cameras to take a look at what they were seeing under the nose. As the clearing approached, he raised a critical brow. Straight lines, regular surfaces, definite pattern here... toggling the displays, he got further confirmation of the objects he was looking at; hollow structures, not rocks and almost certainly man-made.

Interesting. As soon as the first run was complete, he turned the Stingray, banking over a wide arc to look down on the site for himself. It was an old fighter pilot truism, one that he still explicitly trusted; for all the advanced sensors and scanners and cameras and imagers in the world, nothing beat the Mark One Eyeball.

And there it was; partially concealed but still visible; a collection of unquestionably man-made structures in the middle of the clearing. Well trash my shorts and give me a Deathstalker, he thought to himself. We actually found something.

"Red Wing One to control." He began as he re-opened the channel. "Target confirmed as man-made structures. Repeat, man-made structures."

"Roger, Red Wing One." The controller replied. "Return to base."

Well this is a turn-up, he thought to himself. We actually found something. Now to see what IE is really up to. He bought the Stingray around, setting course for the drop port that was serving as their base of operations. On the downside, less material for my book.

Deep Jungle, Northwest of Drop Port

Martin Place

Deep Periphery, Anti-Spinward of the Lyran Alliance

14 December 3073

Reven had been glad of the report that Z-One had found something. It meant that she had an excuse to get as far away as possible from the ruins of the Drop Port and what had once been the planet's capitol. It wasn't just that she was bored silly with watching the IE crew at work and trying to figure out what they were doing. She'd alleviated that with doing more impromptu "fashion shoots", wandering in front of their cameras dressed in whatever skimpy or revealing outfit had taken her fancy that day.

The truth was that doing them had served another purpose. While she was watching the IE crews ogle her and give her their utmost attention, it had taken her mind off the simple fact of how damn creepy the whole place was. Towering buildings, yet empty, decaying and crumbling. There had been no signs of war or violence; simply as if the entire population had up and walked away one day, leaving a perfectly good city to be solely reclaimed by the jungle.

It was unsettling, to say the least. If there had been signs of battle, buildings burnt or blasted apart by weapons fire, then that would make sense; it would be a reason, an explanation for why the place was abandoned. However, there was nothing to be found here; just a hauntingly empty city that had been home to millions. The very thought that they may have wanted to leave it for an unknown fate in the jungles was bad enough; the idea that the population had suddenly died was even more unsettling.

It reminded her of Pogota, a memory that she would rather not relive.

She'd hurried her men through their prep, making sure that they were ready to go as soon as possible, all to leave that damned city behind. As far as she was concerned, getting as far away from it as possible was the best option available to them. Two days later, crawling through the jungle at a snail's pace, she wasn't too sure any more.

They'd taken the remnants of an ancient road as far as they could, making reasonable time on the broken asphalt. Their expedition was extensive; the only thing left behind were the two Security mechs, who were there to make sure that nobody tried to attack the port or their ships. Reven had wondered if there even was anyone here to be a threat; the whole world seemed empty save for them.

Leaving the road, the expedition was cutting through the jungle in order to reach their objectives; there simply was no other way that they had found to do such. Her Black Knight and Steve's Axeman had taken the lead, using their massive hatchets to cleave their way through the dense forest, clearing a path for the vehicles to follow. While the jungle was difficult going for most of their mechs, for the Marcos and the trucks, it would have been impossible without their improvisational deforestation,

The sole exception were the mechs of Lambchops' strike lance. Using their jump jets, they were able to sweep ahead of the expedition to scout the terrain ahead to plot the best path. Z-One's flyovers only gave them an idea of where things were; it was very hard to see what was actually on the ground. They'd had to deviate around otherwise hidden obstacles several times, only adding to their slow going.

Will this damned jungle never end? She asked herself. I hate this place. She really, really wanted to be off Martin Place and never see it again. Failing that, she just wanted to reach their objective and be done with it. The heat of the jungle made her mech's cockpit stuffy and uncomfortable at the best of times, and that was with barely moving and no weapons fire. If they got into a battle, it'd be unbearable.

She smashed through another tree, her mech picking up the fallen trunk and throwing it aside like a giant twig. That was probably the worst of it, the constant, monotonous chopping. It was like doing hard work or having an office job, not the glamorous life of a mercenary she had wanted. Sighing, she repeated her mantra, the one that kept her going. "Think of the money, Reven. Think of the money."

"I don't like this." Rick's voice cut over her communicator. "At this range, we could be right on top of someone and not know it." His Awesome was designed for long-range bombardment and a steady approach; here in the jungle, its mobility would be non-existent, while any engagements would be at point-blank range where its weapons would be least effective. "Now if I was here, I know how I'd be fighting us." He continued.

"Do tell" She replied as her hatchet reduced a tree to splinters, less interested in what he had to say and more looking for anything to break the monotony.

"Jump-capable mechs, specifically faster ones." He continued. "I'd snipe at our fringes, then get away as fast as I could. They could wear us down while using their mobility to escape our fire. With the thick cover, they could be on us before we know it." There was a pause. "Lambchop's lance is our best defence at the moment. Make of that what you will."

Reven was not reassured. Instead, she studied her displays, watching her mech's Beagle Probe like a hawk for any signs of enemy activity.

"Hey boss." She all but jumped at the sound of Lambchop's voice over the command channel.

"What is it?" She gasped out, trying not to sound like she was suddenly terrified.

"We've reached the objective." He stated. "And yeah, you guys are definitely gonna want to see this."

-----

It took them another hour to cut their way through to the settlement. When they got their Reven wished that they hadn't.

What they found had once been a fortified town; it was protected by raised earthworks and ditches, reinforced with wooden walls and metal spikes. The buildings were a mixture of wood and brick, clearly designed to be permanent fixtures.

Or, at least, it had been once. The wall had been breached and crushed, while not a single building had survived intact. Every one of them showed signs of violence; damage from weapons fire or simply being crushed. Someone had come through here and done everything in their power to destroy the place; however, at the same time, they had left it standing.

"In many ways, this seems almost ritualistic." Doctor Lane commented as he surveyed the burnt-out husk of a building. "They destroyed every building, but at the same time, chose not to flatten it. Whoever attacked this place could have levelled it to the ground; instead, they left them ruined but still standing." He glanced over the ruins. "In many ways, this seems to have been symbolic; they wanted to send a message to anyone else who may have contact with this place."

In spite of the heat, Reven couldn't help but shudder at the thought. "So who did this?" She asked.

"Mechs." Rick stated as he walked up to her. "This damage was done by PPC fire; I've seen enough of it in my time to know a PPC blast when I see one." He glanced around. "The earthworks were trampled; not run over with tanks but actually stomped on. There's damage to what little pavement this place had that is consistent with mech footfalls."

"You're sure of that?" She asked, as if seeking resolution.

He nodded. "Pretty much. A lot of the shots have come from above, blasting the roofs first. That has to be a mech."

She turned to glare at Lane. "You said they didn't have mechs." She stated, an accusing tone in her voice. "You said that there were conventional forces on the planet, and nothing else."

Lane nodded slowly. "That is true. However, I did also say that our information was forty years old."

And I know when I'm being lied to. Reven thought to herself, but decided not to say a thing. You expected this, I'm sure of it.

"So how long ago did this happen?" Rick asked, looking around. "I don't think this was recent."

"Agreed." Lane stated factually. "Looking at the growth of the greenery and the decay of the ruins, I'd say that this happened about twenty years ago, give or take." He looked over the ruins. "I'd have to do a more thorough analysis, but that does seem to be the case."

You expected that, didn't you?

"Compare to the drop port and the capitol." He continued. "Those have been abandoned for centuries, but with no obvious violence save for the damage to the dropship. This is recent in relative terms, and definitely deliberate."

"This place was invaded, no questions asked." Rick bluntly stated. "Looking at it, I'd say a substantial mech force stormed this place, crushing whatever was in the way. There was fighting, sure, but I'd say the defenders were outmatched and probably out-numbered. After finishing off the defenders, they then flattened the place."

"Interesting observation, Lieutenant Zaurus." Lane replied. "Do you have a background in forensics or archaeology?"

"Naw." He shook his head dismissively. "I'm just awesome and know stuff."

"He is." Reven spoke up, desperate to keep her composure. "That's why I hired him."

"You hired me because I'm buff." He countered.

"I hired you because of your obvious skill and the fact that you came with an Assault mech." She defiantly answered.

"I really don't think that this is the time-" Lane spoke up.

"Oh come on." Rick continued, his tone mocking yet friendly. "You have two officers and a bodyguard who are long-haired men who look good with their shirts off." He continued. "Your hiring patterns are so transparent."

"A fascinating observation, but-"

"Oh that's rich coming from the guy who keeps staring at my chest." Reven shot back. "Even though you're going out with another girl on the unit. And it's been, what, seven years? Aren't you going to commit or anything?"

"Is this really relevant?"

"First, she's the only other woman in the unit, another clear indicator of your hiring practices." He sounded defensive. "And for another thing, both she and I have a lot of commitments-"

"Doctor Lane!" A voice called out. Moments later, Mukabe ran over to the pair of them. Dressed in the same rough workwear as Lane, there was something about the way he carried himself that said 'soldier' to Reven. If anything, it seemed like he was studying the place less to find out what had happened, but looking for where people could be hiding. "You better come see this."

Soon they arrived at what had likely once been the town hall. The building had been demolished like the others, with only parts of its walls left. What was striking, however, was a symbol painted on one of the walls; a bright yellow eye on a seven-pointed black star.

"Interesting." Lane commented. "Crudely painted, but done after the building was destroyed. Some form of ritual marking left by the attackers, maybe?"

Reven narrowed her eyes. A clue.

Minutes later, she was back in the cockpit of her Black Knight. Sitting back in the command couch, she was relived to be back inside the mech and away from whatever had happened in the town. However, that was not why she was here. Instead, she opened up a channel.

"Hey Zed, you there?" She began.

"Yeah boss?" He replied. "How's it going there?"

"Don't ask." She shot back. "I think that I've found something though."

"What?" Curiosity crept into his normally sardonic tone.

"A symbol; a yellow eye on a seven pointed black star."

There was a pause before he replied. "I got no idea." He stated. "But it's a start. Let me look it up and I'll get back to you as soon as I find something."

Reven nodded. Something is going on here, and I want to know what it is. Nobody lies to me, nobody cheats me. She folded her arms, a determined expression on her face. Lying and cheating's my job.

-----

Deep Jungle, South of Drop Port

Martin Place

Deep Periphery, Anti-Spinward of the Lyran Alliance

19 December 3073

The next few days had revealed several more settlements; all were in the same condition as the one they had found. In every case, the fortifications had been smashed and the buildings had been deliberately destroyed by mech weaponry. There had been no signs of survivors or bodies; similarly, the same star-and-eye insignia had been sprayed on the largest building in the settlement. Furthermore, analysis had suggested that the main reason that the fortifications around the villages had fallen so easily was simply that they were not built to defend against mechs, as if facing them had never been a possibility.

Expanding the search area had revealed the remnants of farms; in each case, the fields had been left abandoned and reclaimed by the jungle; any buildings had been destroyed. There had been a deliberate effort on the part of the attackers, whoever they were, to not only desotry these communities, but to make sure that nobody would ever use them again.

All in all, it had been rather unsettling.

Neither the satellite maps or Z-One's aerial surveys had found any further signs of habitation in the northern region; however, several had been detected further to the south. As a result, the expedition had turned south, heading along an ancient but still viable highway. They'd made very good time, which had seen the general mood of the expedition improve. There had been a lot more openness, especially in the interaction between the members of the Storm Riders and the IE Personnel.

Not that Reven trusted them any more then she had before. She was still concerned as to what their actual motivation was, and, more to the point, what they were hiding from her men. She was convinced that the mysterious symbol was a part of it, and that discovering what it meant would be key to it all. The IE people claimed to have no knowledge of its meaning, and she knew they were lying.

And then they had made an unpleasant discovery. The Highway crossed a large gorge, including a rather wide river. It had originally done this with a large bridge, several kilometres long. However, that bridge had long since collapsed, leaving it impassable. As a result, the expedition had to divert around it and search for a fordable point, which had in turn turned into another long slog through the jungle at a slow crawl. This had resulted in short tempers, rising anger and a return of the tensions between the two groups.

Reven didn't like it.

They'd eventually found a ford, hacked a path down, helped the expedition vehicles through it and begun to hack a path back up towards the highway. It'd added a day to their travel time, which hadn't helped things at all. The only way they'd sped things up was Lambchop's lance acting as forward explorers and looking for viable paths. In fact, it seemed that the path that Lambchop had found had once been a purpose-cut trail to circumvent the destroyed bridge; however, it had become overgrown through disuse.

"Strike Lead to Storm Rider Actual" Lambchop's voice grabbed Reven's attention as she was about to chop down the trillionth tree of the day. "We have contact."

And then everything changed. Heart racing, she quickly replied. "Roger, Strike Lead. What types?"

"Appears to be two mechs." Lambchop reported back. "Neither is moving; one appears prone. No heat signatures..." He trailed off.

"Lambchop?" She asked, a hint of apprehension creeping into her voice. "What's going on?"

"...I think you need to see this." Lambchop finally spoke up. There was no urgency in his voice; whatever threat these mechs represented, it didn't seem that he was concerned by them.

"Roger that." She reluctantly replied. "Convoy will advance and rendezvous at your location."

It was fifteen minutes later that Reven chopped her way through the overgrown path to met up with her scout lance. As her Black Knight stepped into the clearing, the first thing she saw was a mech in the centre of it. A lightweight Wasp, the mech appeared to be drooping at the waist. However, as she got closer, it became apparent that this machine was no threat.

Originally in a bright white scheme with a black and yellow trim, the Wasp's armour was covered in dirt and grime, and, as she got closer, also clearly streaked with rust. Up close, she could see that panels were open or simply missing, bundles of loose cables hung from the mech's limbs, while its canopy was shattered and one of its antenna were missing. Its feet were dug into the ground, with vines growing up over them.

The second machine, a blocky Crusader, was in even worse shape. It probably had been propped up at one point, but had clearly collapsed; now it was sprawled on its back. Like the Wasp, its armour was filthy, with clearly missing parts; it was obvious that neither mech was even remotely operable.

"They're both hulks" Lambchop spoke up, his camouflaged Wraith lurking nearby. "I can't say for certain, but it looks like both machines were stripped for parts and then left here. I guess they propped the Crusader up at one point, but then it fell over and nobody really cared enough to fix it.

The Magellans pulled up behind Reven's mech, while the rest of her company filtered into the clearing. Almost immediately, Lane and Mukabe disembarked from the lead vehicle; the difference between the two was immediately obvious. Lane was striding towards the mechs with an obvious glee, while Mukabe was far more cautious, watching his surroundings. It seemed less that he was looking over the two mechs; no, he seemed to be almost ignoring them. He was looking for who put them there and, more to the point, if they were a threat.

Several other members of the exploration team followed; Reven noted that they were divided into two groups along the same lines as their leaders – one were investigating the mechs, the other were clearly soldiers. I thought so.

"Well?" She called over her mech's loudspeakers down at Lane, who was studying the Wasp. "What are they doing here?"

He looked the decrepit mech over. "Both of them look to have been stripped of any useful parts; I'd wager that both were inoperable or combat losses hat were deemed to be not worth repairing. Instead, I suspect that they have been left here as some form of warning." He turned around and looked over the clearing. "Definitely. There are other signs that point towards this."

"Such as?"

He pointed to a pole sticking out of the ground next to it, specifically the object perched on top of it. Zooming in on it, Reven realised what it was that he was indicating to – a human skull.

"Wha?" She began, at a loss for words. She'd seen dead bodies before; it was a part and parcel of the lifestyle. She'd never seen something like this before; barbaric beyond anything she was used to. It was something one would expect from a fantasy movie, not the present day and age. And while one heard sorties from the periphery of the brutal excesses and cruelties of Bandit Kings, nobody ever believed them.

"There are a number of these scattered around the clearing." He continued with a surprisingly detached tone, given that he was talking about human remains. "In fact, you stepped on one as you entered."

"Uck" was all she could manage. She needed to wash her mech. Now.

"Yes, it seems that these were a combination of ritual and warning." Lane continued. "They obviously display symbolic destruction of one's enemies, much like what we saw in the villages with the painting of the symbols. However, their placement along with the mechs is clearly conspicuous."

He walked a little around the clearing, Mukabe following him. Reven continued to listen, her massive mech following the pair of them – although she was careful to avoid any further skulls. "When this path was less overgrown and still navigable, the placement of both these mechs and the skulls would have served as a warning to anyone who was travelling along it. It would tell whoever came across it that they had entered hostile territory, and give an indication of their fate"

Lane looked back over the wrecked mechs. "Given that our information suggested that these people had no knowledge of Battlemechs until recently, I would hazard that the two mechs further underscored this warning. Battlemechs are a powerful symbol; their resemblance to the human form gives them a certain mystique, an aura of power, especially amongst those who have little contact with them."

"These two would serve as a demonstration of the power possessed by those who controlled them. And if one was a survivor of the village massacres, the image would be more potent. The first thing ones sees is the same horrific creatures that destroyed their home, which would be enough to drive anyone off, lest they invite the same wrath upon themselves. And while the mechs were disabled, they were posed to act as sentries; even inert, their symbolic value would have been immense." He concluded.

"...fascinating." Was all Reven could manage.

"I would like to study-" he continued, before being suddenly shoved to the ground by Mukabe.

"Down!" The larger man called out as he pulled out a pistol. While the Professor remained crouched, Mukabe and a half-dozen others sprinted across the clearing. Reven in the meantime quickly glanced around, before fixing her eyes on her displays. The Beagle Probe wasn't showing anything, but at the same time, she knew that even it had its limits.

"Strike lance, fan out and secure the perimeter!" She called out. "Command lance, protect the transports; Assault lance, form up in the centre of the clearing!" Within seconds, the mechs of her company were in motion, following their commander's orders. The strike lance's machines leaped into action on plumes of fusion flame, vaulting into the jungles; Lambchop in particular seemed to be following Mukabe.

"Vans are secured." Stave called out, his Axeman backed up against one of the Magellans; the Marco was lost between the four larger Battlemechs.

"Clearing secured." Rick added, his Awesome towering over all else around it. "No sign of any hostile force."

"Nothing here either." Lambchop called out. "Whatever it was, it is too elusive and probably too familiar with the local terrain for us. It could have run between my legs and I'd have missed it."

Mukabe walked back into the clearing, approaching Lane. The pair of them exchanged very clearly hushed words, doing their best not to be overheard. Eventually Lane nodded, then turned back to her. "Thank you for your swift actions, Captain Dyron." He began. "While I can't say that whoever it was represented a threat or not, your unit certainly responded well to protect us."

Reven nodded. Total kiss up to throw me off. It's not going to work. She paused to consider it. Well, maybe a little. But I'm going to find out just what was going on.

Switching command channels, she opened up a direct link to Z-One. "Reven here. You got any lead on our mystery symbol?"

"I have one." He admitted, the dull throb of his Stingray's engine obvious in the background. "Even if it's a bit loose."

"Let me have it." She shot back. "I need to know now."

"Any reason?"

She glanced over at the jungle. "We are not alone."

-----

"Well?" Reven asked, her Black Knight back to hacking through the jungle. They'd taken a lot of pictures of the clearing before getting underway again; this time, she'd felt a lot more comfortable staying in the cockpit of her mech.

"So here's what I've found." Z-One replied. "There's one exact match for our symbol. It's a mercenary unit, called the Bloody Star."

"Nice start." She commented. "What do you have on them?"

"They're about a combined-arms regiment; one mech battalion, one of tanks and one of infantry. Their gear is mostly unremarkable."

"I fail to see the connection." She replied, more then a hint of her frustration in her voice.

"You're so impatient." Z-One shot back, a nagging tone colouring his words. "You see, there's two things that makes these guys so interesting."

"Do tell."

"First up, they seem to be some sort of a crackpot religion." He offered. "Now I don't know if it's an act or if they're legit or what have you but either way, they're very in to it. They call their leader a high priest, they worship their lord of darkness and all that kinda stuff. They're insular, and seem to only recruit from within their cult."

"So they're whackjobs." She stated. "And?"

"Point two." Z-One continued. "Nobody has any idea where they came from."

"What do you mean?" She furrowed her brow, suddenly confused. It wasn't something she liked.

"So these guys suddenly showed up out of nowhere in the Rim Collection in about '61 or so." He explained, a patient tone in his voice. "From there they wound up on Galatea with some mechs and tanks and stuff. They registered with the MRBC, but never spilled the beans on their past. They've vanished every now and then over the last decade or so, but then come back with fresh troops"

"Huh." She considered all this, coming to a worrying conclusion. "Who... who are they currently working for?"

"Our friends, the toaster worshippers."

"Figures." She muttered. All of a sudden, it all made sense. IE had found these guys and wanted to find their origin, with enough evidence to support that they were connected to the Word of Blake. However, nobody would sign on to go gallivanting off into the periphery to fight the Robes on a supposed secret world. The thought of all that came with it – nukes, cyborg super soldiers, bioweapons, Shadow Divisions and the like – would scare any sane man off.

So what did they do? Spin Reven a lie about lost colonies and the like, hoping that she'd buy it while they got to do their work. And if she and her men met a messy end at the hands of the world, the IE Crew had probably taken precautions to let the Inner Sphere know what was going on here. So, in the long run, she and her men were surplus to requirements. If they made it back, fine. If they didn't, IE didn't have to pay them.

She didn't like it at all.

"Boss?" Z-One asked. "What's happening."

"Give me a moment and I'll call you back." She finished, closing the channel before opening a new one. "Steve? I have a job for you."

-----

Highway, South of Drop Port

Martin Place

Deep Periphery, Anti-Spinward of the Lyran Alliance

20 December 3073

They'd found the highway again after a few hours of travel; on this side of the gorge, the trail back to it was in slightly better shape. This wasn't saying much, given that it was still overgrown and obscured, just less so. There had been no further encounters with who (or what) ever it was that had been watching the clearing. The general consensus was that they had been scared off by the presence of Reven's mechs.

Of course, there were others who thought that they could simply be lying low and biding their time.

Returning to the highway had not helped matters any; rather than the general rise in spirits that the improved conditions should have bought about, instead there was a general air of tension following what had happened. There was a general feeling that they could be attacked at any time, resulting in an almost oppressive feeling of their every being watched, as if there were armed opponents lurking and waiting to strike.

It didn't help that Reven didn't trust the IE Personnel at all; to make it worse, she was pretty sure that they didn't trust her. More so then at the start of the trip where they'd straight up lied to her, she was now convinced that they were deliberately hiding their findings from her. And she didn't like it.

Even though the highway was an obvious site for an ambush, they'd continued to use it, simply because it made travel so much easier. It was also the most direct route to the nearest settlement that Z-One had located; one that seemed to be a lot larger than the ones to the north and, more to the point, apparently intact. Much like their mysterious watcher at the clearing, it was not a certain sign of life, but it was about the closest thing they'd found.

Reven's command and assault lances had formed up around the Magellans, keeping them within what amounted to a protective barrier of mechs. The strike lance were moving ahead of the rest of the group, jumping through the jungle to search for and flush out any would-be attackers.

In many ways, it was a relief when they finally ran into some.

"I have something!" Ford's voice called over the command net, breaking the monotony. "Large, slow-moving object, probably mech, advancing from due south."

"Affirmative." Lambchop shot back. "Keep an eye on them and-"

"Mech is hostile!" She shouted back, the sound of an explosion in the background behind her. "Repeat; enemy mech has opened fire and is definitely hostile. Confirming contact as a Thunderbolt."

"Fall back, Ford." Lambchop cut her off. Reven knew that her lightweight Venom couldn't begin to stand up to a heavyweight Thunderbolt. Her mech could easily outrun it however, and certainly had the advantage of mobility. "All Strike lance elements, rendezvous with me."

"Affirmative." The lance replied over the network; on Reven's console, she could see the mechs moving to group up. A red icon entered her display, the Black Knight's Beagle Probe immediately tagging it as a TRD-5S Thunderbolt.

"Strike lance, fall back to the road." She ordered. "A lone mech won't want to-"

"Second contact!" Ford cut her off. "Shadow Hawk entering from south behind the Thunderbolt." On her screen, Reven noted the second mech, following its larger compatriot.

"Strike lance, spread out and try to slow them." Lambchop called out. "Stay solely hit and run, but try to draw them off from the convoy." Again, the strike lance's icons spread out, moving to encircle the newcomers.

"All units, remain close to the convoy." Reven continued. "Do not engage; repeat-"

She was cut off by a wail of alarms from her mech's systems; moments later, three score long-range missiles arced out of the sky, slamming into her mech. As she fought with the controls to stay upright, she shouted out over the command link. "That wasn't a T-Bolt or a Shadow Hawk! What the hell is going on?"

-----

Lambchop came down on the flank of the Thunderbolt, opening fire on the larger machine with his mech's lasers. The trio of beams peeled armour off the mech's side, but didn't penetrate its thick hide. In return, it wheeled around, opening fire on him with its own lasers; half the volley went wide, while the others sliced armour off his mech's legs and flank.

Moments later, Ford's Venom dived in through the jungle roof, its pulse lasers spraying the Thunderbolt's rear with ruby darts. The beams whittled armour from the machine, but it remained standing.

"Strike two and four, concentrate on the Shadow Hawk." He ordered. "Keep it from flanking the convoy. Strike three and I will bring down the Thunderbolt" He broke into a run, his Wraith crashing through the undergrowth. "Ford, execute tactical manoeuvre purple munky dishwasher."

"Gotcha" She shot back, the Venom faking to the right, then suddenly darting to the Thunderbolt's left, raking the enemy machine with fire. Confused, the enemy pilot turned around, then back to her, opening fire with his own energy weapons. The large laser made its mark, all but incinerating her mech's arm in a cloud of molten metal.

However, it also opened him up; Lambchop twisted around, opening up again on the enemy machine. Ignoring the spiking heat in his own cockpit, he again fired all three lasers; the shots melting armour off the Thunderbolt's side and arm, returning the damage Ford's mech had taken. Watching the enemy machine, he could see its heat spiking on the thermals; clearly, this mech wasn't using upgraded heat sinks.

While he had been concentrating more on keeping alive and moving, he'd taken a few chances to observe their mysterious attacker. The Thunderbolt certainly appeared to be a stock 5S model, the same type that had been in service for nearly six centuries. More to the point, it showed signs of wear; its paint was faded and had been touched up in places, but certainly it had not been painted to parade-ground specifications.

The enemy machine, stumbling from the damage and heat, backpedalled, slipping between the trees in the jungle with surprising ease. Whoever the pilot was, he clearly was experienced in handling this sort of terrain. "Keep him pinned down." Lambchop called out as his Wraith leaped forward again; cycling only the large laser to keep his mech cool, he again peeled armour of the Thunderbolt's left arm.

Moments later, the Shadow Hawk landed by the Thunderbolt, coming down from a jump to form up next to its comrade. The Hawk wore a jungle camouflage pattern, one that again looked to be more slopped together and showed definite signs wear. The mech cut in with its arsenal, spraying fire at Lambchop's machine. Most of its shots went wide, but several missiles made their mark, chipping away more armour.

"Lambchop, this is Reven!" His commander's dulcet tones would have been music to his ears if she hadn't been all but screaming. "We've been ambushed by the road! There's heavy LRM fire coming form due south of us."

He checked his display, looking at the relative positions of the two forces. "No sign of enemy observers." He began. "Though I can see how this would work."

"Lambchop?" She shouted back. "What's going on?"

"Classic Caballeros stragety," he began. "There's probably a concealed observer near your location providing forward control for indirect LRM fire. It'll be something small and easily concealable, like a lone man on a bike or ATV. I wouldn't be surprised if it's the same scout that was watching us back at that clearing."

"Makes sense." She admitted, the sounds of explosions obvious in the background. "Right; Lambchop, how's things there?"

"We have the enemy pinned down; they out-gun us, but we can easily out-manoeuvre them"

"Keep the rest of your lance in place." She replied. "I'll send you the rough location of our attackers; I want you to flush them out and into our waiting arms."

"Gotcha boss." He finished. "On my way."

Switching channels, and taking a quick shot at the Thunderbolt, he turned his attention to his lance for a moment. "Right. There's been a bit of a mess by the road; I have to go help out our fearless leader. Keep them pinned down if you can, but let me know if anything goes bad." He glanced over his display. "Ford, you're in charge until I get back. Make sure nobody gets dessert until they eat all their greens."

"Roger that" She shot back as her Venom again took off, lashing at the Shadow Hawk with its lasers.

"Right. I'll be back in a jiffy." His Wraith again took off, leaping away from the skirmish, instead heading towards the battlefield indicated by Reven. It was pretty clear to his eyes what had happened; the first two mechs were to draw off his lance so the main body of their force could stage an ambush, presumably guided by their enigmatic forward observer. It was what he'd do in such a situation.

However, he suspected that his opponents had not been ready for the full capabilities of his lance. A pair of older model mechs, both of which had clearly been away from proper facilities for some time. He suspected that they weren't familiar with his lance; while they might mistake a Venom for a Spider, his Wraith would be a complete mystery to someone who was still running on Succession Wars-era info.

Leaping across the jungle, he had a few precious seconds to reflect on the situation. It was a fair bet that these mechs were the ones that had destroyed the northern communities, or, at the very least, were from the same force. Given that the destruction of said communities had occurred over twenty years ago by Lane's estimates (ones that his own investigations had agreed with), it matched with the idea that this unit had never seen a Wraith.

Combining that with the information that, at least in the early 3030s, there were no mechs on the planet, he had begun to build up a timeline of events. He'd like to investigate the matter further, but he had other things to worry about.

His Wraith's sensors picked up a trio of large objects concealed in the treeline by the road; specifically, big, metal ones that radiated heat – battlemechs all right. He considered that he had no idea of what types they were or what other support they may have, and the decided to throw caution to the wind.

Crashing through the canopy, the Wraith landed behind a mech that his sensors identified as an assault-class Longbow seconds before he opened fire on it with all three lasers.

"Hey boss, I've found our problem"

-----

Even zoomed in on her viewscreen, watching the damaged Longbow stumble out of the jungle with black smoke billowing from its back was rather satisfactory. "Roger that, Strike lead. Good work."

"Can I have a cookie?" Lambchop shot back.

"Later." She quickly flipped open the command channel. "Assault one, Command two, you're with me. Close in and take them out. Everyone else, stay by the convoy, but any fire support you lend would be appreciated."

A chorus of "affirmatives" ran across the channel as she pushed open the Black Knight's throttle. While battered by the LRM fire, her machine was still fully capable, surging forward at sixty kilometres per hour towards the enemy force. As she advanced, she opened up on the Longbow with her mechs extended-range particle cannon; a bolt of blue lighting leaped out form her mech, spearing the enemy machine in the chest.

"Take them out."

A wave of LRMs fell amongst the treeline by the road, sending clouds of shredded foliage flying. More importantly, the fire and shredded cover revealed another two mechs waiting by the Longbow; a Warhammer and Rifleman.

They were probably going to open up as soon as we got into range, using their big guns and cover to snipe at us. She grinned as her mech pushed forward. Not today, boys. You mess with the Storm Riders, and we'll make you pay and take your stuff.

The Warhammer was first to recover, finding its feet and pushing forwards. Its twin PPCs lashed out at her mech, the bolts striking home, boiling armour off the Black Knight's arm and leg. Fighting against the force of the blow, Reven kept her mech upright under the hits.

Rick's Awesome more thenreturned the favour, a quartet of electric-blue PPC bolts spearing into the Warhammer, ripping armour off its chest and legs. Staggered, the machine managed to stay upright, despite the force of the blow.

Behind it, the Rifleman charged forwards, all four of its arm-mounted cannons blazing, spitting laser and cannon blasts at the Awesome. The shots seemed to simply wash over the Awesome, the massive mech unaffected by the hits. As the Rifleman continued its advance, the bush behind the mech exploded outwards in a blur of metal and leaves as Lambchop's Wraith entered the fray; the sleek mech opening up on the Rifleman's flank, ripping into its thin armour.

Within moments, the cleverly-planned ambush had disintegrated in the face of the Storm Rider's superior mechs; all three of the enemy attackers had taken heavy damage in the first exchange of open fire; all Reven had to do now was press her advantage.

The Black Knight continued to drive home, opening up on the damaged Longbow with its PPC and twin large lasers; while the particle beam wet wide, the lasers were enough to shred armour on the mech's chest. Black smoke poured out of the gaping holes torn in the armour as the mech struggled to stay upright. Stumbling, it released another load of LRMs at her mech, the missiles blasting into the Black Knight's already tattered armour.

Staggered by the hit, Reven fought with the controls to keep her mech upright. Before the Longbow or its comrades could capitalise on its success, however, Steve's Axeman leaped in front of the mech, opening up with its Autocannon. The shells struck home, blasting the Longbow right in the chest, ripping apart the remaining armour before a pair of lasers tore into its already torn structure, blasting into its systems. The mech stumbled, then crashed down to the pavement.

The Warhammer's pilot, clearly realising the situation, began to backpedal as fast as he could. The mech again fired its twin PPCs, flaying armour off the Awesome. Again, the massive mech seemed to shrug off the hits, then replied with its own weapons. One of the PPCs went wide, blasting apart a stand of trees by the highway. The other three more than made up for it, blasting apart the armour over the mech's left leg, leaving the delicate actuators exposed.

Behind it, the Rifleman switched targets, frantically firing at Steve's Axeman; the shots tore armour off its chest and side, but seemed to do little damage. Behind it, Lambchop's Wraith continued to strip armour off it, one of the lasers tearing through the paper-thin armour on the mech's back. On her screens, Reven could see the Rifleman go white hot, a consequence of both its notoriously poor cooling system and what was clearly damage to its reactor shielding.

As if to confirm her suspicions, the Rifleman suddenly staggered, fire belching from its back and sides. Then abruptly, the torso simply blew apart as the Autocannon rounds inside the mech's body cocked off, tearing it apart from within. The explosion shredded the mech, sending shrapnel flying to pelt the Warhammer and Longbow.

"Now!" She called out, her voice filled with enthusiasm at the Rifleman's self-destruction. "Finish them off!" Recovering from its stumble, the Black Knight surged forwards, its weapons tearing into the wounded Warhammer. The lasers shredded through the mech's depleted armour, one of them sawing through the damaged leg, severing the foot. The Warhammer stumbled, heat and damage taking their toll on the mech as it crashed down to one knee, only barely able to keep upright.

As its compatriot fell, the mangled Longbow struggled to its feet, only to be confronted by Steve's Axeman charging forwards, its hatchet raised. The Longbow's mechwarrior let loose with a flight of LRMs at Reven, knowing full-well that he had no chance of hitting the Axeman. However, this time only a handful of missiles struck home.

The Warhammer struggled to keep its footing, opening fire on the Axeman with its secondary weapons. Shots sliced into armour on the mech's leg and side, but seemed to have no effect. In response, seeing it was still a threat, Rick's Awesome opened up on the Warhammer, a trio of PPCs ravaging the already-damaged machine, blowing its already damaged leg apart, shredding armour and myomers. With its support cut out from underneath it, the mech crashed forward, its head slamming into the pavement with a sickening crash.

The mechwarrior on the verge of panic, the Longbow frantically backpedal as Steve's Axeman raised its massive hatchet, then bought it down. The four-ton axe struck the mech's head, crushing armour, structure and the pilot inside. With a shout of triumph, Steve wrenched the blade free, the headless Longbow crashing to the ground.

"Well I can't fault his enthusiasm." Rick commented, his mech's guns still trained on the prone Warhammer. For the moment, however, the enemy mech seemed to be unresponsive, the mechwarrior likely either injured or unconscious from the fall.

"Strike lead to Strike... someone." Lambchop called out over the channel. "What's your status?"

"Shadow Hawk is down." Ford replied. "Thunderbolt is retreating with heavy damage. Should we follow?"

"Boss?" Lambchop asked.

Reven looked over the damaged Warhammer; inside, its mechwarrior was more than likely still alive, and, as a result, their prisoner. And at last we can get some answers.

"Tell them to fall back to here." She replied. "It's about time we find out what is going on here."

-----

Highway, South of Drop Port

Martin Place

Deep Periphery, Anti-Spinward of the Lyran Alliance

21 December 3073

For all the fighting, the damage to the Storm Riders' mechs had been rather light. For the most part, the only damage they had taken was to their armour, a matter that was easily field-repaired with armour stripped from the downed mechs. Reven's Black Knight had taken the brunt of the damage, the unseen observer having apparently singled her out as being their commander. Beyond that, the only severe damage was to Ford's Venom, its right arm having been all but destroyed by the Thunderbolt. As it stood, the lost limb could not be replaced in the field, and, as such, she would have to go without.

Of their attackers, there was very little to say. Out of five mechs, four had been destroyed or disabled with only one of them retreating. However, they had taken only a single prisoner, the pilot of the Warhammer. A heavyset man, he sported a thick mane of hair that was streaked with grey, and harsh features dominated by a patch over his missing right eye. In truth, he could have been any mercenary anywhere, with nothing to distinguish him.

Knocked unconscious in the fighting, he was being kept under medical supervision onboard one of the Magellans, with Mukabe's "support" staff keeping an eye on him. Reven also knew that they were keeping her men from speaking to him. Fortunately for her, nobody had noted the subtle nod she gave Steve as their prisoner was being loaded into the vehicle.

The others had not been so lucky. The Longbow pilot had been crushed with his mech's cockpit. Similarly, the Shadow Hawk's mechwarrior had been killed by an SRM that blew though the mech's head armour. The Rifleman's mechwarrior had gone up with his mech; his auto-ejection system had either been disabled or simply failed to activate. Of the concealed forward observer, there was no sign. They'd managed to keep their cover, and had probably simply slunk off when the mechs were destroyed.

Regardless of what had happened, the decision was made to press on southwards. The damage they had suffered wasn't too severe, and there was a feeling that any delay would allow their enemies to regroup and mount a stronger defence. At the same time, Rick had offered the opinion that, if their enemies had more mechs, they would have used them in the ambush. Even allowing for the favourable terrain, five on twelve were not good odds.

Following Z-One's direction, they'd left the highway, heading south on a smaller trail that had been cut from the jungle. Examining the pathway showed that not only was it well-maintained, but it had been used recently by a group of mechs – specifically, the ones that had ambushed them. As a consequence, the Storm Riders were a lot more cautious than before. The Strike Lance now were split with two mechs in front and then another two behind, both probing for enemy forces and making sure that none were sneaking up on their rear.

"Contact." Lambchop spoke up, breaking the silence of the jungle trek.

"What is it?" Reven asked, quickly glancing back at the Magellans.

"You can tell Z-One that he definitely found a settlement." He stated. "And that it's not like any of the others we've seen so far."

"How so?" The concern was obvious.

"Well, it's still standing, for starters." He quipped. "And it's bigger too. Not just in population, but also in preparation. I'm seeing raised walls, probably stone and mortar here, with ditches and a fortified front gate. Towers along the walls too, along with what looks like several emplaced autocannons – and they're manned."

"Sounds like they're ready to fight mechs." Rick spoke up.

"Yep." Lambchop agreed. "I'd say that this is the source of our attackers." He paused, then continued. "They've let the trees grow inside the place to help break up its outline and hide how it looks from the air."

"From the air? Do they have any airpower?"

"Not sure, but they certainly are prepared to-" There was a pause. "Hold up."

"Lambchop?"

His voice was low, almost a whisper. "There are infantry moving through the jungle near me. I think they think I haven't spotted them..."

"Hostile?" She whispered back.

"No idea, but they're definitely not wanting to be – oh no you don't!"

"Lambchop!" She shouted out. "What's going on?"

"One of them tried to lay a charge on me, the little toolbag!" He shot back. "And now they've opened fire and-" he was cut off by an explosion.

"VTOLs!" Ford shouted out. "Two of them, unknown types! They just took off from the village."

"Roger that. We are under fire, repeat under fire." Lambchop shouted out.

Reven didn't hesitate before opening up the throttle. "Roger that. Command and Assault Lances, form up on me! Strike two and four, stay with the convoy; alert us if anything happens."

"Captain Dyron?" Lane's voice cut over the communicator. "What is going on?"

"We've found your lost colony." Reven shot back. "Only they're shooting at us! We'll investigate; I want you to remain here"

"Understood, captain Dyron." He replied, a severe tone in his voice. "However, bear in mind that we are here to study these people, not exterminate them."

"Well, you can study them when they stop shooting us." She snarled. "In the meantime, we have an unprovoked assault to deal with."

As her Black Knight approached the battlefield, she could see that matters were pretty much as Lambchop had described. The community – village, town, whatever it was – looked to her mind somewhere between a fort or a prison, and a reasonably armed one at that. Regardless, whoever was inside there didn't want people getting in, and seemed pretty adamant about the idea.

No sooner had she sighted the fortress, then a turret-mounted autocannon on one wall opened fire, spraying shells at her mech. The shots went wide, shells shredding a tree by her machine. Twisting her machine to one side, she returned fire, her Mech's PPC blasting armour off the turret, but leaving it intact.

"What's the situation, Lambchop?" She called out.

"They're clever, I'll give them that much." His Wraith was nearby, spraying the jungle with laser fire, clearly going after some sight unseen target. "They cut the forest back to give a clear field of fire to about 450 meters, which is inside the engagement range of their guns. Thus in order to get a clean shot at them, they can get a clear shot at you. Also-"

His voice was cut off as the Wraith lifted into the air on its jump jets, moments before a flight of missiles slammed into the jungle floor where it had been. "They have LRM launchers behind their walls, probably guided by spotters hidden out here, much like they did along the road."

The Wraith landed in a crouch, one arm raised to spray fire skywards. Above the mech, a VTOL of a type Reven didn't recognise swerved violently, only barley managing to avoid his fire. "Also there's a lone chopper here harassing us. Well, there was two."

"Was?"

His mech indicated to a patch in the jungle; a gunship, apparently of the same design as the one he was shooting at before was sticking out of the ground like nothing so much as a giant hurled javelin, its tail section a mess of twisted metal. "I fixed that problem."

"Gotcha." She keyed the command channel. "Command and strike lances, move up and silence those turrets. Let's aim to take those gates down. Also watch out for infantry in the jungle."

"Captain, what are your intentions?" Lane cut in, a demanding tone in his voice.

How'd he get on this channel anyway? She asked herself. "They shot at us. We're shooting back."

"Our goal here is-"

"My goal is to keep my men alive." She cut him off. "Tell you what though, professor. If we convince them to stop shooting, then you can study them all you want" A volley of cannon fire tore into her mech's shoulder, silencing her for a moment. "For now, we have other priorities."

Careful, don't play your hand too early.

"I understand, captain." He finally spoke up. "But please, try not to do any more damage to them then is strictly necessary. Our goal here is exploration."

"Understood." She finished, returning fire on the turret with her large lasers and particle cannons. This time, all three beams struck home, incinerating the armour over the weapon but, frustratingly, leaving the cannon intact.

This problem was resolved moments later as a pair of particle beams struck home, blasting apart the cannon. Glancing around, Reven could see Rick's Awesome advancing through the jungle, the brilliant silver and blue mech standing out against the foliage. "Sorry to keep you." He began. "Dense foliage just doesn't agree with this mech."

"Slowpoke." She shot back. "Right. Get those turrets suppressed and-" A volley of LRMs slammed into the Awesome, wreathing the mech in fire. "You okay there?"

"Minor damage." He sounded almost dismissive. "I'll be fine."

"Try to close in." Lambchop suggested. "If we can get under the minimum ranges for their cannons and missiles we may be onto something there." His Wraith burst into a run, spraying fire at the pursuing gunship as its own missiles tore into the ground behind his mech. "Of course, if those are mobile launchers inside there, then all we'll do is make things easier on them."

"Suggestion, boss." Rick spoke up as his mech continued to advance, cycling its PPCs against another turret. "Send Lambchop and Ford over the wall to see if they can break things behind there, maybe ease off the pressure."

She considered it a moment, pushing forwards and opening fire on another turret. "Sounds like an idea. Lambchop?"

"It's risky. They could have mech traps or hidden forces or Bengal Tiger pits or all sorts of stuff over there. But what the hell, let's do it anyway. Someone nail this chopper. I'm going to town." The Wraith charged forwards, then ignited its jets, sailing towards the town. "Ford, you're with me. Let's paint the town red."

"Gotcha, sir." Her voice cut across the channel; moments later, her small mech followed his, leaping through the air towards the enemy fortress.

"The rest of you are with me." She commanded. "And someone kill that damn VTOL." She tried to close in with another turret, bringing her medium lasers to bear on it. Ät the same time, she switched channels, opening up a new link "Z-One, you following what's going on?"

"Yep." He stated. "What do you need?"

"May need an airstrike on this fort if it doesn't crack." She stated.

"Could be civilians there." Z-One replied, a note of apprehension in his voice. "Not good."

"I know." She stated. "But we may be out of options. Get in the air, and be ready to go when I call for you."

-----

Jumping over a wall into a fortified area where you had very little idea of what was on the other side was pretty high on the list of things a light mechwarrior should never do. However, Lambchop thought it was a good idea, and Erika had no reason to doubt him. He hadn't steered her or the strike lance wrong yet, so she figured she'd trust his judgement this time.

Things started off well the instant she got over the wall, her mech landing in front of a trio of tanks. Two of them were conventional in design, armed with Autocannons; the centre one had the same hull, however its turret consisted of a trio of missile launchers.

Before they could react, she opened fire, the pulse lasers ripping into the tank's hull, shredding armour. Seconds later, the other two replied with their cannons, however, neither of them hit home as she pushed forwards. Her mech swung around, its clawed foot slamming into the front of the tank with a swift kick that lifted the vehicle into the air before it settled back to the ground, clearly inoperable.

"I took out one of their Missile Tanks" She called out as her Venom took to the air again, leaping away from the tanks. "How are you going?" The Venom landed in the street, facing the enemy armour. As her shots peppered their rear armour, they swung their turrets around, desperately trying to track her swift machine.

"Found a concentration of armour myself. Focus on getting their launchers down." He stated. "Also look for some way to get that gate open. If we can do that, then we have them"

"Roger that." The Venom leaped away from the tanks, heading back towards the gate. Putting a row of houses between her and the enemy machines, she was surprised as several shells tore through the structure in a futile attempt to swat her machine. "They don't seem to mind collateral damage." She added as she landed.

The sounds of gunfire caught her attention; a squad of conventional infantry had come out of nowhere, an APC behind them. Several shots pinged off the armour of her mech; in response, she opened fire on the APC, slashing into its armour. "They seem to be pretty persistent." Erika commented. "But their troops don't seem that good."

"Agreed." Lambchop commented. "I think those mechs were the best they had by a long way. This is probably a citizen's militia or guard unit, and I doubt they've seen any real combat ever." There was an explosion in the background before he spoke again. "Got another launcher."

"Roger that." Ford turned back to the APC; damaged, the machine was backing up; meanwhile, the Infantry were running for a nearby building. "Looks like their infantry aren't-"

A missile slammed into her mech's side, blasting apart what little was left of the crippled arm. Twisting around, she could see her attacker; a Wasp, dressed in the same drab jungle cammo as the mechs they'd met in the jungle yesterday. It had stepped out from behind a water tower, probably using the metal of the structure to shield it from her sensors.

"I got a Wasp!" She called out, firing back. The enemy mechwariror jumped back, leaping away from her, leaving her shots to tear into the structure of the tower. As it landed, the Wasp opened up with its laser, the shot only narrowly missing her mech.

"Oh, it's on!" Erika shouted out, almost excited. Leaving the APC behind, her mech leaped into the air, sailing towards the Wasp. Opening up, its lasers spat red darts at the enemy machine; a shot blasted armour off the mech's left arm, while the second shot ripped off its flank. As she landed, the Wasp fired back, its laser finding its mark on her mech's side.

"You need help?" Lambchop asked.

"For a Wasp?" She gave a snort. "I can handle him on my own. You keep looking for a way to get the gate open." The enemy mech took off again; ignoring the heat building up in her cockpit, Ford leaped after it, keeping her sights on the mech. Ducking behind another building, the Wasp made itself a hard target to follow; her lasers failed to make their mark, instead shooting over the enemy mech.

Okay, you're slick, I'll give you that. She ignored the warnings from her mech's systems as she landed, hitting an override on the reactor shutdown. Landing, she watched as the Wasp took off again, its laser and SRM's spiralling out after it. The laser cut through the armour on her mech's leg, all but eliminating the protection there. Too close.

The Wasp chose not to capitalise, leaping away again. Grinning, she took off after it, determined to bring the mech to ground. Vaulting over another building, she landed in the middle of a large open square. An intersection of a number of roads, the square was dominated by a single structure, larger then any other inside the walls. Hey... she began as she looked over it, noting the features of this singular structure. That's...

The sounds of gunfire snapped her back to attention, APCs and Infantry pouring into the square, forming a barricade in front of the structure. Not wanting to hang around, she fired her jets again; the Wasp pilot had led her into a trap, but she had no intention of letting him close it.

However, as her mech sailed into the air, something else caught her eye. "Hey Lambchop." She called out before her Venom landed."Nice work on getting the gates open."

"They're open?" He sounded genuinely surprised for what was the first time in the six years she'd served under him. "I didn't open them."

Ford blinked. "Then who did?"

-----

"Yeah, I see it." Reven commented over the command channel, looking at the gates to the city. "No idea how, but it's unquestionably open."

"Should we move in?" Rick asked.

"One sec..." Something on the walls caught her eye. Zooming in, she saw movement; figures crawling across the top, keeping low. Several of them vanished behind a watch tower; moments later, one leaped up behind the soldier inside the tower, grabbing him and dragging him down.

I knew it.

"Go!" She called out. "Rick, Steve, you two have lead. Take them out!" Her Black Knight surged forwards, ignoring the fire from the turrets for now. As she expected, there was suddenly a lot less of them. Ahead of her, Rick's Awesome stepped through the open gates, its PPCs opening fire on the enemy forces massed behind them. Inside, she could see tanks being torn apart under the mechs's fire, enemy infantry scattering at their advance.

Reven switched channels back to the command loop. "Z-One, hold off on the airstrike for now. Can you remain on loiter?"

"Roger that." He replied. "We're good for fuel at the moment. I'll let you know if we have to RTB."

"Right." Reven nodded. "I may still need you for a strike or something else."

"Of course." There was a knowing tone in his voice. "Out."

Striding into the town, Reven could see that her mechs had already done their work. Between them, Rick and Steve had already taken out most of the defenders at the front gatem, leaving a trail of ruined tanks in their wake. Stepping inside, she spread fire on the fleeing infantry while looking around.

The town was built to the same general quality as the smaller ruined communities they'd seen, only on a larger scale; not only was it a lot larger, but there were bigger buildings. There were also signs of workshops and other light industry, indicating a much larger scale of organisation then those communities that she had initially visited. It was also clearly inhabited. "Watch your fire; there are civilians around."

"Roger that." Rick called out. "However they're going to ground in the buildings; rooting them out will not be easy."

"I'm sure we will manage." Reven commented, thinking immediately about what she had seen. She had no doubt that the same fate would befall those who were going to ground. And thus make sure that there's as little damage to this community as possible.

Around them, the enemy were falling back, clearly realising how much they were out-matched by the invading mechs. "They're withdrawing to the centre of town." Rick commented. "Desperate fallback? Rally point?"

"Something else." Ford's voice cut into the channel. "I think they're determined to make a heroic last stand."

"Really?" Reven asked as her PPC blasted an APC into scrap. "What is it?" Her mech stepped over the burning wreckage, then rounded a corner. "I can see the centre now and – oh."

He building in front of her was rather stark in comparison to the rest of the town. Compared to the rather basic buildings, this one was rather brazen in its excess. It had to be also one of the ugliest buildings she'd ever seen; a triangular prism in shape, its architect had decided to go overboard in the addition of spikes to the sides and top of the building. However, the most telling feature was the massive sculpture mounted on top of it, cast from solid metal.

A seven pointed star, adorned with a massive eye.

It all makes sense now, she thought to herself. Looking over the gathered forces, she could see only a few tanks and APCs, all battered and damaged. There were some infantry as well; most were dressed in crudely-made fatigues, but one stood out; a man in bright orange robes adorned with a black star.

"Surrender now!" She called out over her mech's PA system. "You are outnumbered and out gunned! Lay down your weapons and you will live!"

"The end times are upon us!" The robed man called back. "We gladly give our lives!" He pulled a pistol from his robes and opened fire, the shots bouncing off her mech's hull.

"I knew he'd say that." She sighed to herself. "Storm Riders, take them out." The battle was over very quickly. There simply was no other way it could have ended. The enemy forces in the square didn't have a chance against her mechs; those in the surrounding buildings had failed to materialise. She had no doubt that, inside, there would be a lot of dead bodies. The Wasp was the only survivor of the battle; loosing an arm, the Mech had simply jetted away, abandoning its comerades.

Keying her command channel, she switched over to the circuit that Lane was meant to be listening to (as opposed to the ones that he was in anyway). "Dyron here. Town is secure. You may move in when ready".

"Thank you, captain." He replied in a tone that suggested that he already knew what had happened. Reven didn't care. What had occurred today had confirmed all she had suspected.

She switched channels. "Z-One, stand down. Return to base and refuel, but be ready to go again."

"Got a new target?" he asked.

She glanced back at the entrance to the town, where the Magellans and the Marco were entering. "Quite possibly. It's time to look at our contingencies."

-----

Bloody Star Settlement, South of Drop Port

Martin Place

Deep Periphery, Anti-Spinward of the Lyran Alliance

22 December 3073

With the dramatic and one-sided defeat of the Bloody Star's army, any resistance to Reven's forces had ceased. The civilians weren't really shocked about what had happened, nor were they grateful for liberation; they just simply accepted it and started rebuilding from the damage done. And, for their part, the members of the IE crew had been quietly studying them, watching as they got on with their lives.

In particular, Reven noticed, they'd been focusing on the cathedral at the centre of the town, eager to document it. She'd figured that, in truth, it was the only thing that they were really interested in here. Everything else was secondary. So she'd decided that it was time for her to get the answers that she so wanted.

A quick check with her men had put everything in place. Z-One was on standby; Lambchop was on patrol with his lance, obstinately keeping a careful eye on the town.

She strode into the cathedral, Rick at her side. She was full of confidence, acting like she owned the place. The interior of the building matched the exterior in many ways, in so far as it was hideous. The walls had been painted in a shade of orange that suggested that someone had thrown up on them, while there was a bright red trim that only served to make the colours even more garish. And, of course, the recurring star-and-eye motif that was adorned on the walls, with a massive version at the end. Overall, the effect was like walking into the cover of a Post-Industrial Rebuild Mellow album.

And she hated Post-Industrial Rebuild Mellow.

Lane and Mukabe were in the middle of the room, talking quietly. Coughing loudly, she got their attention, walking towards them, Rick right behind her.

"Fascinating, isn't it?" Lane began.

"More like hideous." Reven replied, dismissively. "I think I'm getting nauseous just looking at it."

"This is what my hangovers look like." Rick added. The pair of them circled around the two IE members, glancing around at the structure.

"Regardless, I think this is exactly what we after." Lane offered. "This offers proof of a connection to the Huitzipochitili Colonies, and may provide a map to their origins. I suspect there is a symbolic starmap hidden in the details here that will lead us back to them. Furthermore, while their leader did, unfortunately, perish during the battle, I'm sure that there will be interesting artefacts to examine in his personal effects."

"Oh, I agree entirely." Reven stated. "Or, rather, I would if the Hutzapocally Colonies weren't fictional."

"Ms Dyron." He stated. "With all due respect, I am an archaeologist here. I know-"

"Oh, I know you are." She cut him off, an accusing tone in her voice. "And I also know when I'm being lied to. I'm a professional, and I know a con when I see one."

"While I won't argue that-" His words were rather heated, and more than a little accusatory themselves.

"You've been lying to us since we arrived in-system, Lane." She continued, stalking towards him and Mukabe. "We know about the Bloody Star. We know that they're working for the Word." She narrowed her eyes, staring straight at him. "That's what you were after, wasn't it? You were looking for some secret Word Base or the like out here on this rock."

"If we could-"

"Of course, you couldn't just hire people to look into a potential Word base, could you?" She accused. "Anyone would be insane to go along with that idea. Risk being attacked by killer cyborgs, super omnimechs, nukes or Bioweapons? No thanks. So you fed us a line of pure crap to make us think that we were safe and not run out on you. I'm guessing that we were disposable from day one, right?"

"Not-"

"So here's the deal, Lane." She continued, jabbing him in the chest. "You are going to tell us everything. You are going to explain exactly what is going on. And you are going to give us access to our prisoner, the mech pilot from the other day. I want to talk to him and know exactly what's going on here."

"I'm sorry, Captain Dyron, but I can't allow that." He stated, his voice flat.

"You will, Lane." She stated. "Right now."

"You can't force me." He replied.

"I can." Rick countered, reaching for his gun. "Let's be rational here, Doc-"

He was cut off as Mukabe lashed out; faster then Reven could follow, Lane's massive assistant slammed her officer in the face, sending him reeling. Before Rick could recover, Mukabe kneed him in the chest, then slammed him in the back as he doubled over. Dropping his weapon, Rick crashed to the floor. Glaring at Reven, Mukabe reached down for the pistol.

Only, instead, to be grabbed from behind. A length of chain wrapped around his neck, yanking him back. As big and muscular as Mukabe had been, Steve was even bigger. Pulling back, he hefted the man into the air. Abandoning the pistol, he tried to grab at the chain, wheezing desperately as he did. This, however, only encouraged Steve to pull even harder.

"If you'd studied his tattoos, you'd have noted that Steve is from the Circrinius Federation. That means he's a nasty, nasty fighter." She picked up the pistol, pointing it at Lane. "And as well trained as your commandos may be, he's just plain meaner. Don't try to deny it, by the way. I knew that they took out the defences and opened the gate. Like I said, I've been watching you."

Lane seemed impassive. "Then you'd know what my men are capable of."

"I do." She nodded. "However, you're not the only one who can pull a dirty trick. My men are watching yours. My dropship has its weapons trained on your Security mechs and, if needs be, your dropships. My mechs are standing by to open fire if I do not leave here alive and unharmed. And I still have my fighters in reserve – and you do not know where they are aimed." Her voice was ice-cold, betraying not a hint of fear.

"And I can tell that you are not bluffing." Lane countered. "Very well. What do you want then?"

"The truth." She stated. "And as said, access to our prisoner to conduct a full interview with him."

"And after that?"

She shrugged. "I'm good. If you have what you want, then we'll leave here in peace. We return to the Inner Sphere and IE like nothing ever happened, you pay us and we will promise not to talk about what happened here."

"How do I know I can trust you?"

"Odds are on I don't get paid if you don't come back, Lane." She stated. "So that means that we both have reasons to keep the other alive."

"Very well then." He finished. "I'll tell my men to stand down, then you'll have what you want.

"Right then." Reven finished as Rick stood up behind her, his nose bloodied. "How are you doing, Rick?"

"I hurt a lot. He punches like an Atlas."

"Oh!" She perked up, as if she'd forgotten something. "Steve, you can let him go now."

Steve gave a grunt of acknowledgement, then released the chain. Mukabe collapsed to the ground, gasping.

"So, Lane." She continued. "Let's talk."

-----

In the end, Lane had decided not to hold back, and explained the full purpose behind the expedition. They were chasing the origins of the Bloody Stars, just as she had expected. Furthermore, again as she had expected, they suspected that Martin Place was being used by the Word of Blake as a secret base of operations of some sort. Thus, Reven's unit had been bought with them to act as guards and, if the worst came to the worst, to buy time for the expedition to get back and tell the Inner Sphere about what was going on here.

It would be a small sacrifice, but one that could potentially bring them closer to victory against the Word. Reven however, didn't like being a sacrifice.

Lane's plan had been to search the settlements on-planet for any signs of the Word or their activities. Until they had arrived at this town, he'd come up a blank; the empty communities showed no overt evidence of being destroyed by anything other than the mech forces they had encountered. If the word was acting here, they had done it in such utmost secrecy as to not leave any signs of their passing.

Now it rested entirely on what they found in the cathedral, and whatever secrets their captive was willing to give up.

His injuries had been relatively light; he'd bashed his head when his Warhammer had been disabled during the battle, knocking him unconscious. The first aid team on board the Magellan had checked him out, then, after making sure there was no actual damage, kept him sedated as to make sure that they would not lose their only good lead.

For now, he was seated in a plain room inside one of the buildings in the town. There were guards that the doors, as well as Steven and Mukabe warily eyeing each other. Reven and Lane sat at the table, facing him.

"So let's start from the top, shall we?" She smiled. "Like your name."

The man sighed. Up close, he was even more ragged and worn then he'd seemed when they pulled him out of the Warhammer; his face was lined and weary, and he had a look of a man who was simply tired of life. "There's no real point in holding back." He finally spoke up. "In many ways, I should probably thank you for putting an end to all of this."

"My name is Barry Fjord." He continued, an honest tone to his voice. "I was born on Alarion, in what was then the Lyran Commonwealth in 3020."

Reven felt a sudden twinge of sympathy for the man; Alarion had apparently been lost to the World, its ravaged by a bioweapon released into its domed cities. The entire system had been placed under quarantine, and it was assumed that the entire population were dead or dying already. She didn't feel like explaining this right now, and figured that Lane wouldn't either. It wouldn't help.

"I was a captain in a mercenary unit known as the 99th Legion. We were assigned to garrison Chateau, working for a car company of all things. In 3050, the planet was invaded by a mysterious force that took us completely by surprise."

"The Clans." Lane stated.

He nodded. "They seemed unbeatable; their mechs tore through the FedCom troops on-world like they were toys or something. Our commander, Mark Hammale, decided that it wasn't worth our getting annihilated in some futile battle for a car company, so we ran away. We took advantage of the chaos to escape off-world, stealing a dropship then hijacking a jumpship."

"But before we left, we heard the stories from other worlds; these Clans were everywhere, and decimating our men. Hammale decided that wherever we went, we'd end up dead regardless. So he ordered the ship to go out beyond the Inner Sphere, into the deep black. The feeling was that we had to escape and get as far away from them as possible, as if we were fleeing the apocalypse."

"So we ran for god alone knows how long. But eventually, things caught up with us. We were low on supplies, and tempers were fraying. A lot of us wanted to make planetfall, figuring we were now so far past the Inner Sphere that it didn't matter where we ended up; we had to be away from those monsters." He paused. "I'm ashamed to say, I was one of them."

"We arrived in this system, finding a habitable planet. More than that, we found that it was inhabited, with ruins of a huge city visible from orbit. One hears all kinds of stories about lost worlds and Star League treasure troves and the like, and a lot of us had figured that we'd struck it rich and could live out our days like kings. So we made planetfall to see what this world held for us."

"At first, it was a little disappointing; the city we found was empty and had pretty much nothing of value. Oh, sure, there was plenty of stuff there that hadn't decayed or completely fallen apart, but it was just junk. However, Hammale, was determined to see what we could find. So we set off south, where we'd spotted another settlement."

"I wish we hadn't." He visibly slumped, shaking his head. "That's when we met them."

"Them?" Lane spoke up.

Fjord nodded. "The natives. At first, they seemed afraid of us, like they had never seen mechs before. The first few we met simply ran away. But then we came across a large group of them. I still remember it today, and it is one of the freakiest things I've ever seen." He shuddered.

"What was it?" Lane asked. "Please"

"It was like some sort of a parade or something. A huge group of them came towards us, heading up the old highway that I fought you guys on." He nodded as if reassuring himself of what had happened. "There were people dancing, and shouting into the air and all kinds of crap, and they were carrying these banners, with this symbol on it; an eye on a seven-pointed black star."

"The Bloody Star." Reven commented.

"Yeah." He nodded again. "I wish I'd never seen it now, given all that's happened since. Even then, I knew there was something wrong when I first saw Stan."

"Stan?" Reven raised a brow.

"That's what their leader called himself. Freakiest thing I ever saw." He paused a moment before continuing. "Covered in these weird tattoos and with the freakiest eyes you have ever seen. He said he was the high priest of the Bloody Star, and welcomed us. It was as if he was expecting us all along."

"We went back to this town – it was a lot less impressive back then – and Stan explained what was going on, and about the Bloody Star. He said they were the 'chosen' of his 'master', and that they would inherent the universe at the time of apocalypse or some such crap. I wasn't convinced, but the others ate it up, especially Hammale. That Stan seemed to have some way to just get inside of you, to twist tour mind around, so that you'd want to believe him, no matter how crazy it sounded."

"We told Stan about the Clans; he seemed to think that they were the harbingers of the promised apocalypse, and made it out like we had been purposefully delivered to him, like fate or their master or whatever the crap you believe in had lead us here. He explained how this planet was a key part of the events to come, and how it had to be cleansed of the 'impure' in order for their prophecies or something to happen."

"Whatever magic it was he was working, he did it well. Hammale 'converted' to their hokey religion, as did many of the others. I admit now, I paid lip service, but remained unconvinced. I guess I was afraid to speak up or to oppose Stan and our commander. For his part, Stan made Mark a 'priest' of the order, saying that he had been 'blessed with true vision' or some such crap."

"Hammale and Stan worked together, tying our forces to his. He had a bunch of tanks, some infantry and some VTOLs, all primitive crap that would have been garbage even during the Succession Wars. None of it would have stood a chance against our mechs. So we set out to 'cleanse' this 'sacred ground' for Stan, so we could get our divine rewards and the like." He again paused. "What came next was not pretty."

"The destruction of the Northern Settlements." Lane stated flatly.

The regret was obvious in Fjord's voice as he answered. "Yes. We gladly slaughtered them, dragging back the survivors to force them into Stan's service. I'm ashamed to say that I was a part of it, and that I did nothing about it. We had very little opposition, it was a straight up slaughter. The villagers were armed only with the same primitive tanks and stuff as Stan was, and it was clear that they had no idea how to fight Mechs."

"It was only after we'd wiped out a half-dozen villages that somebody spoke up. A bunch of us, lead by captain Jeremy Bollocks – he was the captain of the third company – spoke up against Stan. In reply, Hammale had him shot on the spot. He'd hoped that it would stop us from fighting; instead it caused a civil war of sorts within the unit."

"By the time the dust cleared, we'd lost eight mechs in all. The survivors of the dissidents were rounded up and killed on Stan's orders. However, they'd bought time for the northern communities to flee further into the jungle and escape what was coming. We spent months, maybe years, hunting them down, but never found any trace of them. In the end, Stan decided that we had 'cleansed' the planet sufficiently, and we retreated to this town. We fortified it, and then left two of the wrecked mechs behind as a warning of Stan's power."

"The Wasp and Crusader in the clearing." Reven commented. "They were your mechs."

"Yeah." He nodded. "We fell back and fortified this town, expanding it a lot. I dunno why, but Stan felt that we needed to protect against the possibility of being attacked, even though we'd gone and wiped out all the northerners. We didn't ask why, we just did, because we were now all loyal followers of the One True Stan."

"It only made sense after we were done." Fjord continued. "Stan announced that he had been given a vision, one of the coming apocalypse. He had to return to the Inner Sphere, and wanted Hammale to help him. For his part, our boss was more then willing to agree. He gave Bollocks' old Zeus to Stan, and made him commander of the unit, which Stan now called the Bloody Star."

"He took most of our mechs, as well as a good number of his tanks and infantry with him, and simply left the planet. I was left here, maybe he never fully trusted me or something, but I was now in charge of the planet's defence while Stan was gone. I still had to answer to their acting high priest, a nut by the name of Stokes."

"I'm guessing that he would have worn a bright orange robe with a black star?" Reven spoke up.

"That's him." He nodded. "What happened to him?"

"He died during the battle for the town." She stated.

Barry grinned. "I hope you stepped on him." He stated, a hint of eagerness in his voice. "The man was a maggot."

"I think he got fried by a laser." She admitted. "It was very confused."

"Either way, I'm glad he was dead." He finished. "I followed his lead because I had nothing else to do. Oh, sure, I could have fried him at any time, but then what would I do? I'd be king of this damn world, and I wouldn't want that on anyone."

"Now you say that Stan departed for the Inner Sphere." Lane spoke up, trying to steer the conversation back on-topic. "Did you ever see him after that?"

"Yeah." He nodded. "Stan came back here in about '64, mainly to gouge more troops for his crusade or whatever it was he was doing in the Inner Sphere."

"Did he tell you anything about his activities?"

"Nope. And I doubt he would have if I'd asked." Fjord rubbed his chin. "There was one thing though, that I found really, really weird."

"Do tell."

"He bought some Comstar guy back with him."

"Comstar?"

"Sure." Fjord nodded. "White robes covered in maths symbols, muttering about the Blessed Blake and all that crap. Who else could they have been?"'

The Word of Blake, Reven mentally noted. Except you'd have no idea who they were, because there was no Word back when you fled the Sphere.

"What did Comstar want, mister Fjord?" Lane spoke up again.

He shook his head and sighed. "I have no idea. They spent a lot of time poking the ruins, like they were looking for something. Whatever it was, they didn't find it. Now I admit I can't really tell what goes in inside a robe's head, but I'll tell you this much. They seemed mighty disappointed that they didn't find anything."

"How so?"

"Well, imagine if you'd travelled this far out for nothing." He finished. "Yeah, I'd say that you'd be more then a little disappointed yourself."

Reven glanced at Lane. Oh, I know what you mean, Barry, she thought to herself as she looked over the archaeologist. And so does he.

-----

"So." Reven stated as she left the room. "All this time and effort, all your resources, all this secrecy and all our attempts to doublecross each other and we get exactly nothing from it."

"It would appear to be the case." He admitted.

"So what are you going to do now, Lane?" Reven asked, genuine curiosity in her voice.

He shook his head. "We can do a bit more looking around here, but the point is moot. The Word were here and they found nothing that they wanted. It's clearly not one of their secret bases or so-called lost worlds, and I sincerely doubt that any further investigation is going to say otherwise or achieve anything else."

"So then we're getting out of here?"

"I would say so." He finished. "There's nothing else here, really. I'll report back to my employer that Martin Place is exactly what it seems, and that the Bloody Star are little more then a particularly colourful band of thugs who happen to be in the Word's employ."

"There is one other thing that you have to consider." Reven countered as she leaned back on the door, a smug look on her face.

"Which is?"

"How much extra you're going to pay me to not tell anyone about what's happened here."