TEN

by Ulquiorra9000

Jumpship Springhawk,
Barony of the Spire, former FWL territory,
June 25, 3079

Lane couldn't help it; he wasn't very hungry, but he felt listless and anxious and lying in his bed in his and Jennifer's room aboard the Jumpship Springhawk only made his stomach feel funny. So, he sauntered out of his room and shuffled down the hallway, hands in his pockets and eyes fixed straight ahead. No one else was in the hallway, and there was no sound except the rumble of the distant heating systems to keep the passengers comfortable in cold space. Lane punched a few buttons into the elevator's panel, and the elevator car smoothly dropped down a few levels and opened the doors to another, more brightly-lit hallway that led to the common area and cafeteria of the Springhawk.

Someone else came from around the corner, intercepting Lane on the way to the cafeteria where some of the Jumpship's crew were snacking. Lane stopped and saw Parker confront him, the larger man clad in everyday clothes and a characteristically serious expression on his hard face.

"I-I, uh... hello," Lane sputtered, both out of surprise and mild fear of the larger man. The two of them had never really talked face-to-face, with Parker often either in sullen silence or quietly discussing personal matters with Evee Ridinghood. What did Parker want with him?

"I am glad I found you. I wanted to thank you," Parker explained simply, relieving Lane of some of his nerves.

"Thank me? For what, exactly?"

"For providing unyielding help during the defense of Sol, both to me and to the defending force as a whole," Parker elaborated, folding his thick arms. His hard eyes focused on Lane, but there was no aggression in them. "Especially near the end of the struggle. Remember? That No-Dachi was making short work of my Lance until you and your wife appeared."

Oh yeah, the skirmish at the dropships, Lane recalled, images of the brutal fight flashing through his mind. He managed a grin. "You're welcome for that, Parker, but really, Jenny and I were hitting them from behind, and we hadn't been taking sword damage like your Lance had. We just..."

"Modesty is a virtue, but do not sell yourself short," Parker cut him off, catching Lane by surprise. He returned Lane's grin. "You are a renowned and fierce Lyran warrior, the former commander of the Striking Tigers. You and Jennifer, in fact. I am humbled by assistance from such people. I will not forget the arrival of your Mad Cat and Uziel, not for a long time."

"Now you're being modest," Lane laughed as he resumed his walk to the cafeteria, Parker following him. "Really. I'm only 26, and by what Evee has told me, you've been using Battlemechs since I was in elementary school. While I was playing with plastic dinosaurs, you were putting your life in the hands of giant war machines on countless worlds. Between us, I'm the kid who needs a leg up."

Parker couldn't resist a chuckle. "There is that modesty again. Yes, I have done a lot, Lane Farlow, but I have made many mistakes too, suffered many defeats. I am hardly a god."

Lane approached a vending machine and wondered wha to get; all the advertised items looked tempting. "Though I imagine you've got excellent war stories to share, right?"

"Well, yes..."

"I may be younger than you, Parker, but I have a lot to say too. Why don't we do a little ice-breaking? We don't have to be silent companions. It looks like we'll be joining forces for most of the foreseeable future."

Now Parker was the one to laugh, surprised by how easy this Lane Farlow was to get along with. It is a big galaxy, but there is always something new to see, someone new to meet. "Yes, that sounds fine with me. Most of your friends and mine have already met. Hotaru has told Evee what a kind and friendly person Cassandra Goyua is. You keep fascinating company."

"That's Cassandra for you," Lane grinned, finally slipping a C-Bill note into the vending machine and getting an item. He tapped the machine's surface. "Want anything?"

"No thanks," Parker shook his head. "Let us find a table."

"Sure."

Although Parker and Lane might be from different worlds, they found that they had a lot in common and by day's end, knew that they could be buds after all.

Sol, Martel,
Barony of the Spire, Former FWL Territory,
June 28, 3079

"General Fawkes, it appears that nearly all of the Baron's administrative staff and offices were located in this Spire," an officer reported to Nickolas Fawkes. Both men stood on the open land on the cliff overlooking Sol, and there was a huge pile of twisted and charred rubble near the end of the cliff. Here, the centuries-old Spire had stood only a few days ago, a symbol of the eternal strength, justice, and wisdom of the Barons. And now, in just one day, it had fallen before the infinite might and justice of Emmanuel Adelis' Commonwealth of Narvosk. Now, Fawkes' salvaging squads were poking through the wreckage.

I'm not so sure about it being a "just" Commonwealth right now, Fawkes lamented, aware of the severe damage and loss of life that had befallen Sol because of this invasion. Homes destroyed, people killed, lives disrupted and a nation in chaos. Emmanuel's peace must spread, but with such a price! A medicine tastes bitter on the way down in order to cure a sickness, but Adelis must be more careful. You can't let the medicine be more bitter than the sickness it treats.

"S-sir? Did you hear what I said?" the officer asked, peering at Fawkes as the general looked sadly at the rubble of the Spire. Fawkes jumped.

"Of course I did. Well, if the Baron's city hall was crammed into this tower, then we will need to build a replacement for ruling Martel with. Adelis will choose an administrator for this conquered world, but that administrator will need a hall."

The officer gave the rubble another look and nodded. "Indeed, sir, no one's going to be ruling from this Spire ever again." Then a wicked grin crossed his face. "I could coerce the local construction teams to quickly build a new city hall, their labor for our benefit. It can be the Martel citizens' first act for their new masters!"

"We're not slavers," Fawkes bit back, glaring at his officer, making the other man wince. "We have done too much to them already, they have already suffered more than any people should. Be gradual and slow with using the local work force."

"Sir, Adelis demands 100% efficiency and forcefulness with all our endeavors," the officer gulped. "I may be out of line, but the policy of gentle conquest can only go so far. Adelis would want you to have a hard hand with the locals, and make sure that they meld seamlessly into our Commonwealth. You are one of the best agents of Adelis, after all."

Fawkes closed his eyes in thought. "Don't worry so much. I... you know that I despise slaughter and chaos and slavery. President Adelis of the Commonwealth of Narvosk also wants to eliminate such things from the former Free Worlds League, but his methods and mine don't always match. That is why I say what I do. Understand?" He opened his eyes again, looking his officer in the eye.

"Yes, General," the officer nodded, but he didn't sound like he was really interested in Fawkes' policies. Instead, he gave another bloodthirsty look at the Spire's ruins, probably contemplating how to subjugate the people of Sol and all of Martel. Fawkes looked at it too, but all he could imagine was the Baron Martineau's angry and accusing face staring at him, the victim of this invasion. Fawkes shook his head. What is wrong with me? I do this for the right reasons. Albert Martineau is to blame for refusing to cooperate and help build a Commonwealth of peace and justice. This destruction was only an unfortunate by-product. Wasn't it?

Fawkes had arrived here in his Hercules Battlemech, and the 'mech was currently standing silently nearby, its cockpit hatch open and a ladder extending from it to the natural ground. Both of Sol's suns glowed steadily overhead, making the 'mech's silver and blue paintjob shine and glow. It was surprising, then, that Fawkes' battle-loving fellow General arrived on the scene in a simple ground car.

"A monument to our victory! Very good," the passenger of the car rumbled in his deep voice as he got out of the back seat and approached to join Fawkes. This man was a fellow Commonwealth general, a huge man known simply as The Gladiator. Well over six feet tall, he was built like an Olympian hero and had a hard, square-ish face, his eyes dark and his chin firm. he was encased in thin but flexible and tough black body armor, helping highlight his powerful body. Even his hands were encased in black gloves, his feet in heavy black boots. Wrapped around his head was a bright red headband, providing color against his dark body armor and short hair's color. A long, sheathed sword was on his back, the sheath actually fastened to the armor's back.

"Ah, it's you," Fawkes greeted his fearsome companion, craning his neck to look up at him. "The Gladiator. I thought you'd come stomping up here in your Battlemech."

The Gladiator shook his head slowly, his expression passive but his voice aggressive. "No. My Fafnir helped me destroy many opponents during the battle, but they were fierce opponents in large numbers, and most of my armor was destroyed and the 'mech can barely walk right now. After all, my heavy large lasers and LBX-20's tore through my enemies, but they harassed me with LRM's from start to finish."

Fawkes couldn't help a small grin, even though The Gladiator's obsession with fighting and his powerful 'mech made his stomach sick. "How many this time?"

"Fifteen! It was excellent, Nickolas. My LBX-20 ammo bins ran dry, but I was not done destroying the Baron's warriors one by one until they all were dead or ran away!" The Gladiator cracked his huge knuckles, a nasty smile crossing his hard face. "The last to go was an Avatar who was missing his right arm, but he fought well and made me work to destroy him. He had my respect as a warrior."

"Does he, now?" Fawkes commented, turning away and looking back at the rubble, not wanting to keep on this thread.

The Gladiator wasn't done, however. "And you, Fawkes? How many? Did you kill anyone really important? I couldn't find the Farlows or Ridinghood Cavaliers. I wanted to, though."

"No, I didn't," Fawkes bit back, getting irritated by constantly thinking or talking about destroying and killing all day. "I took down four opponents."

"Only four!" The Gladiator repeated, clearly disappointed.

"I was leading my men in an organized way to conquer Sol," Fawkes grumbled. "I stayed back to direct them through the city's defense forces. I didn't need to get into the thick of it myself."

"Oh." Then, The Gladiator grinned widely. "Impressive!"

"That I can lead an army to victory without all my guns blazing?"

"No, that you have the willpower to kill only four enemies and hold yourself back while your men claim the glory!"

Fawkes whipped around. "You...!"

Fortunately, another arrival kept the two generals from getting into an argument. A somewhat battered No-Dachi lumbered forth, the 70-tonner carrying its 'mech-scaled sword limply by its side. The machine settled close to Fawkes' Hercules and powered down, its cockpit opening and a ladder extending to the ground. The pilot climbed out and drifted toward the two generals, greeting Fawkes. "There you are."

"Gulzar," Fawkes warmly greeted his good friend. "What brings you?"

"You," Gulzar grinned, pointing at Fawkes. "I couldn't find you anywhere and my men wanted you down at Sol to help figure out what to do with the locals. They like your organizational skills better than mine."

Fawkes couldn't help a laugh as The Gladiator scowled at the change of topic. "Well, that's fair. I'll be down there soon. I was just overseeing the salvaging of the Spire."

Gulzar nodded and planted hands on his hips as he looked at the wreckage. "Yeah. Bound to be at least a few goodies in there for us, right? That Spire was the whole reason the Barony has its name. Maybe data caches in its computers?"

"Could be," Fawkes agreed with his Persian friend. He scratched his blond hair. "And after that, we'll probably move the wreckage away and build a city hall on this spot, but it won't look nearly as impressive as the Spire did."

"And it should have defensive turrets around it," The Gladiator put in. "The Spire had none. What kind of capital building doesn't have heavy defenses?"

"I suppose," Fawkes mumbled. Gulzar gave The Gladiator a sideways look, no more fond of the man than Fawkes was. Hailing from an ethnically Persian world near the FWL-Capellan border, Gulzar had been part of a family of assassins and valued precision, patience, and minimal bloodshed like Fawkes did, even though the two men came from different worlds. Indeed, right now Gulzar wore Persian trousers and boots, and tight-fitting, sleeveless shirt allowed maximum movement. A long, sharp knife was sheathed at his belt, only used with care. His short, dark hair was not unlike The Gladiator's, but that and their allegiance to Emmanuel Adelis was about all they had in common, other than being Mechwarriors.

The funny thing was, The Gladiator never seemed to mind being the odd man out among these three. Then again, their fourth peer, Connor Neils, was quick to harm others too, and he appreciated The Gladiator's brutal methods much more than Fawkes or Gulzar Narimi did.

Fawkes gave the Spire's ruins one more look and made up his mind. "Keep searching. There may be data caches in the computers inside," he called to his salvage squads. "The Baron didn't have time to do a thorough data wipe during the attack. I want a report at the end of the day."

"Yes, sir!" the men responded, then Fawkes clapped Gulzar on the back and headed toward his Hercules. "Let's go."

"Yeah," Gulzar agreed with a nod, then trotted over to his No-Dachi. "And by the way, Fawkes?"

"Huh?" Fawkes halted in place.

Gulzar had a gleam in his eyes. "The Baron's friends, the Ridinghood Cavaliers and the Farlows, they are not to be underestimated. My Lance and I clashed with them at the dropship landing pads during the battle, and I could tell that they're nearly at our level. Let us give them the respect they are due the next time we meet them, eh?"

"That's what I was saying, Fawkes! I wanted to fight such worthy opponents!" The Gladiator called over from near his groundcar, but Fawkes ignored him. To Gulzar, he said, "I understand. There's no telling when our next encounter will be, though. You know?"

"Yeah, but that's part of the fun," Gulzar grinned. "I don't want to hurt a legion of foes. I just want to clash with those Farlows and Cavaliers."

"Yup," Fawkes agreed, then climbed up into his 'mech's cockpit and closed the hatch. He realized that he, too, was eager to go up against the Farlows and Cavaliers, too.

Jumpship Springhawk,
Former FWL territory,
July 2, 3079

"See this indicator on the map? This is where our Jumpship is right now," Jennifer Farlow explained to the group at large in one of the meeting rooms on board the Springhawk. This get-together wasn't necessarily going to be a long one, but everyone needed to know what was happening next for the Cavaliers-Farlow assembly, plus the Baron Martineau. Jennifer tapped her finger on a spot on a screen-mounted map of the Inner Sphere, indicating one of the many nations that made up the former Free Worlds League. The glowing screen showed a little Jumpship icon labeled "Springhawk" resting between the Barony of the Spire and what was labeled as "Lorin Territory."

"So, we're nearly into another safe zone," Tiger Wong appreciated, the Capellan warrior squinting at the map from his seat. "Good thing, too, with all the chaos erupting around here."

Jennifer opened her mouth to speak, but Rocher got there first, leaning forward in his seat to look across at Tiger with a sneer. "Are you not seeing this map right?" he taunted Tiger. "We're on the doorstep of the goddamn Lorins. They make up half of this war! Everyone knows they're heavily against the Commonwealth of Narvosk, and by going here we..."

"Are you questioning our decision to go there, Leftenant?" Evee questioned Rocher in a quiet but deadly voice, her ice-blue eyes seeming to pierce the Davion 'mech jock. She referred to her and Jennifer's joint decision to go to a Lorin world for refuge. Rocher shrank back a little, but his haughty expression didn't change.

"No, ma'am, but seriously, if we go to Lorin territory..."

"Your CO and I are fully aware of the implications," Jennifer added, her expression toward Rocher much the same as Evee's. She folded her arms. "But keep this in mind: no matter where we go within a few jumps of Martel, we are going to be caught up in this developing war. The Lorin family is the single biggest entity willing to give us shelter, and I trust them more than anyone to see us safe. I had thought the Barony would be enough for that task, but not anymore."

"I have to ask, though," Tiger said nervously, "how, Mrs. Farlow, are you so sure about this? The Lorins are known to be pretty tough and self-serving people, and to have as many enemies as friends."

A soft smile crept across Jennifer's lips, her eyes warming up. "Don't worry about it, Mr. Wong. I'm certain that the Lorins will shelter us because I am one of them. My maiden name is Lorin."

She turned back to the map, zooming it in on a particular planet. It was a typical orb of green and brown earth, deep blue oceans, and wisps of white clouds, though the polar ice extended rather far at the north and south. "This is the world we're going to, a planet named Gwanwyn. It's Welsh for 'change' because of the erratic weather patterns there, but it's nothing dangerous. The Lorins there will welcome us, and we can settle down there however long we must until this whole situation blows over, or until the Lorins provide us a way to flee the former Free Worlds League entirely."

"What time frame are we looking at for this plan?" Parker voiced a question, raising his eyebrows.

Jennifer hesitated. "Well... it really depends on how much pressure Emmanuel Adelis puts on the Lorins in this part of space. We might see battles being waged in the systems around us, but Gwanwyn's system has no strategic value, making it safe for us. The head Lorin, my father Mark, has assured me that although the Lorins have declared full-scale war on the Commonwealth of Narvosk and is mobilizing to fight, we won't get caught up in the fighting unless we get ourselves into it." She tapped her cheek, thinking. "At least a few months, if not a year if Adelis is particularly aggressive."

Rocher groaned and slapped his thighs at the prospect of sitting around in Welsh sheep pastures while there was fighting to be done, but Parker and Evee weren't as bothered. "I understand. After all, Parker and I spent years on a particular planet during our last campaign," Evee said with a bracing smile, rubbing a hand on Parker's large shoulder. "This isn't too bad, though I know better than to assume the worst can't happen. Plus, even with all of us, we can't fight a war by ourselves."

At the mention of this problem, Jennifer managed another smile. "If the war does find us, though, we have some heavy-duty assistance coming our way. A transmission was sent to this Jumpship from Henri DuMont, the commander of the Striking Tigers Battalion of the Lyran Alliance. They're coming to help escort us out of the former Free Worlds League if the Lorins can't do it first."

This news generated quite some buzz, from Rocher's vocal refusal to be rescued by Lyrans to Cassandra's cheer and clap of approval to Parker asking an important question: "Why are they going to help us?"

"Don't forget that my husband is the former commander of the Tigers, and I was pretty much his second-in-command," Jennifer grinned, and Lane got up and joined her at the room's front, looking at everyone from Alphonse to Chilali to Baron Martineau.

"My deceased elder brother and I were considered recent heroes of the Striking Tigers, and that Battalion owes much to the both of us," Lane explained, trying not to feel anxiety speaking to everyone here. He had never quite mastered staying cool while addressing a crowd, big or small. "I passed on my command of the battalion to Henri DuMont a few years back, and well..." he shrugged. "Henri feels obligated to help get my wife and I out of this danger and back to the Lyran Alliance, as a personal favor. The Tigers aren't needed for anything else right now, as far as the transmission said, and the Tigers have a secondary objective: investigate the situation with the Commonwealth of Narvosk, and determine whether Lyran intervention is necessary to halt Adelis' reckless spread. Archon Adam Steiner worries that Adelis might one day conquer all of former Marik space, then try taking Steiner worlds, too."

The huge implications of all this hung in the air like a thick mist, but there was no denying what was unfolding in the chaotic former Free Worlds League. Lane made his way back to his seat, but not before he added something else. "Oh, and an old Tiger friend of mine is coming from the Draconis Combine to help out, too. His name is Makoto Yamada, and I can trust him with my life."

"So! Now I'm getting my hide saved by some limpdick Combine dragon, too?" Rocher complained loudly, annoying everyone around him. "This day just gets better and better."

"Do I need to take you out of here?" Evee snapped, bolting impatiently to her feet and shooting daggers at Rocher with her eyes. Lane winced at the outburst, suddenly wishing he hadn't mentioned Makoto. Evee's mentioned that Rocher's a Davion, and Davions and Kuritans don't get along that well. A lot of people from different backgrounds are being forced to cooperate here, and it's putting some strain on everything. I just hope it doesn't all snap and fall apart! Not much I can do in that case.

Rocher rolled his eyes and threw himself back into his seat, folding his arms and avoiding eye contact with everyone. "Okay okay, sorry, ma'am, I couldn't help it. I'll be quiet now."

"Thank you, Rocher," Evee said evenly, then settled back into her own seat, sweeping a lock of her vivid gold hair out of her eyes.

"Well, um... are there any other questions or comments from anyone?" Jennifer offered timidly from the room's front. Cassandra half-raised a hand. "What is it, Cassandra?"

"If Gwanwyn's inhabitants are Welsh, are there a bunch of sheep there? I love sheep."

"Y... yes, there are."

Glad we got that out of the way, Lane joked to himself. There was nothing more to discuss, so the meeting was ended and everyone went their own way on board the Springhawk. Lane took Jennifer's hand in his as he exited the room, and Cassandra and Alphonse briefly joined them too outside in the hallway.

"What is it?" Lane asked the pair as Chilali and some of her squad-mates squeezed past.

"Well, we just wanted to mention a couple of quick things," Alphonse said with a grin. "Will we get a chance to test out Cassie's prototype 'mechs while on Gwanwyn? I mean, just safe live-fire testing runs, not real fighting. We've got the 'mechs on board right now, in one of the dropships on the Springhawk."

Lane's eyes widened at the mention of the Jouster and Tomahawk 'mechs, having completely forgotten about them during the chaos on Martel. He returned Al's grin. "Of course. Plenty of us will be willing to try them out, among the Cavaliers and us, I mean." Jennifer nodded to his words.

"Thanks, guys," Cassandra glowed, then rubbed her hands together in excitement, a gleam in her eyes. "And the other thing: Al and I have talked about it, and Gwanwyn sounds like the perfect place to get married. Right?"

"Of course, Cassandra." Jennifer's eyes and smile had the same warmth. "I'm happy for the both of you. Goodness knows we could all do with something merry after all that's happened, and Gwanwyn is an idyllic place. I fully support this idea."

"Thanks, Jenny," Cassandra glowed, and Alphonse smiled too, but Lane felt a lurch in his stomach upon seeing how nervous and fake Al's smile looked. Lane could tell that Alphonse loved Cassandra with all his heart, but he seemed quite anxious, too. I can't blame him. Getting married is a major life event. Still, Lane wasn't sure that Alphonse wasn't hiding something.

"Then, everyone can start calling you Cassandra Delarosa," Alphonse grinned at his fiancee, and she tugged at his arm and brought him with her down the hallway.

"Come on, you big lump. Let's poke around the Springhawk a little more. Goodbye, Lane and Jenny!"

"See you," Lane waved farewell, then he and Jennifer headed back to their room. He caught sight of his wife's tense expression. "What's wrong?"

Jennifer twitched, blinking a few times. "Oh – it's nothing," she dismissed him, but relented. "Lane, I'm concerned for my family, that's all. The Lorins are powerful, but everything's becoming strange and dangerous around here, and I don't think I really know who is who or what is what anymore. I... just don't want to see my family hurt." She looked down at the floor as Lane opened the door to their room, switching on the light.

Lane took hold of his wife's shoulders and looked into her gentle amber eyes. "Come on, hon, don't be like that. Worrying will only give us gray hairs sooner, right?" he grinned, and Jennifer looked a little comforted by his reassuring humor. "And if anything does happen, the Striking Tigers are coming to help. Our old unit! We just have to hang on."

"Yes," Jennifer agreed, settling onto the corner of the bed and watched Conrad nap in his toddler bed. "But Lane?"

"Huh?"

Jennifer swallowed. "If we must, if the Lorins are put in too much jeopardy, if we are in a position to help... we ought to help. We can't let events control us and make us fear for our lives. I want us, and our dear son, to grow up in a free and safe world, even if we have to fight every one of Adelis' warriors to do it." She relented with a nervous smile. "Though I hope it doesn't come to that. Truly."

"Yeah. Though Conrad needs us here with him," Lane said, sitting on the bed next to his wife, stroking her thigh, helping her relax. "Let's not do any more fighting than we have to. The Striking Tigers are tough, the Lorins even more so. We'll be fine."

A smile graced Jennifer's lips. "Good to know." She closed her eyes and kissed her husband, then settled onto the bed on her back, sighing with mental fatigue.

The Farlows' room was very quiet for the rest of that day.