—==Chapter 10==—
Memphis Space Port
Memphis, Sakhara V
New Samarkand Military District, Draconis Combine
August 28th, 3145
Takumi stifled a yawn as the first of the three Union-class Dropships touched down.
His Atlas was one hundred tons of death and destruction and yet compared to the Dropship even his great war machine was dwarfed.
It made sense obviously, the Dropship would do a poor job of carrying BattleMechs if it weren't absolutely massive in relation to them. However compared to the dock workers gathering around the landing pad, and the armed infantrymen preparing to inspect the vessel even the moderately-sized—for a Dropship at least—Union-class vessel was like a spherical skyscraper its doors built for giants rather than men.
Because the Union-class Dropship was a simple design and one that hadn't managed to become LosTech during the ages of war and strife that had threatened to set the Inner Sphere back into the stone age the ship was easily the most common of Dropships replicated not just for military purposes, but also for civilian transport and mercantile shipping. The same held true of the Invader-class Jumpship, which despite its intimidating moniker actually made up the slight majority of all Jumpships in both military and civilian use.
In reality it was entirely possible that these merchants were everything they said they were and there was no danger whatsoever.
They were just unfortunate travelers whose Jumpship would be seized and whose Dropships would be retained only because they weren't worth much to the military. Even their goods—whatever the were—would be seized by the DCMS, after all why should the Dragon show any consideration to people who weren't its own?
For the merchants this would be a very bad day . . . but Takumi and his men it promised to be a very boring one standing guard as the infantry took custody of the vessels. Unless these Dropships truly were carrying Mechs, or supplies for local insurgents there would be nothing for him and his Legionnaires to do except stand by and look intimidating.
A job the Atlas was uniquely suited for. Though painted in the crimson and gray of the Legion of Vega Kodachi sported two distinctions, one of them was a black lightning bolt streaking down the Mech's chest unique to his own machine, but the other was one shared by virtually every Atlas in operation; white paint on the already skeletal face-plate to really drive home to any who viewed it that the Atlas was death incarnate.
Some small portion of Takumi hoped that these merchants were enemy combatants not just because it would make their truthfully unfair treatment easier to stomach—it would be one thing to seize their cargo but to steal their Jumpship as well stranded them on the world until a civilian Jumpship actually permitted by the Combine and headed for Suns space came through, and who knew when that would be—but also because it would relieve the monotony of guard duty.
It was a terrible wish, he knew, but even a veteran like Takumi could admit that for a Mechwarrior life was often long stretches of boredom punctuated by brief moments of sheer terror and it was in those moments that many of them felt truly alive.
Three Unions would be enough to bring on a whole battalion, though he had less than a Company on-hand to guard the site they would have the advantage against the enemy if they arrived one at a time.
Which honestly only strengthened Takumi's suspicion that these men were nothing more than what they claimed to be.
How fortunately unfortunate.
"The first ship has landed, and they have not opened fire on us, Sho-sa," Ryouku reported, though he did a good job of hiding his disappointment, Takumi wouldn't have noticed it if he hadn't known the man since he was a child. He said, "It looks as if this will be an uneventful afternoon."
"The hull lacks the same sort of weaponry you would see in a military configuration, this is clearly a trade vessel," his sister Kaori piped in, the disappointment in her voice as evident as the disappointment Takumi felt.
"Steady on, this is just the first. Our job is not done until it is done." Takumi told them.
"A true waste of our talents," Ryouku's second in command, a man named Yuroko Kouki piped in. Kouki's Shogun was the only non-clan Mech in the binary, which was debatable since the Wolf's Dragoons design could practically count given the Mercenary unit's origins. No one knew or at least no one would tell how Yuroko had come by the thought-to-be extinct design but the Mech cut nearly as impressive a figure as Takumi's own Atlas, albeit a figure with spindlier arms, no head and too-long legs.
It still towered alongside him over the tiny humans as they went about their work. Takumi saw the crew of the Dropship being escorted away from their vessel and his sights zoomed in on them as they moved.
No resistance, scared looks on their faces, there was no questioning it, these were just blue-collar workers about to be put on an unwanted extended vacation.
But as he watched them he thought he spotted something familiar on their uniforms, a crest . . .
"Control Tower, this is Rat One," Takumi said, his call-sign for this deployment a reference to the Legion of Vega's emblem and mascot "Takashi the Rat." He asked the control tower, "Where did these ships say they came from?"
"One moment, Rat One . . . it looks like they're from Caselton, or so they claim."
Takumi smiled slightly, "Thank you Tower . . . Rats, be on your guard just in case. These Dropships belong to the Fenix family."
"Do you know them?" Ryouku asked.
"You should as well, our House has a history with them. Stone made them disband their mercenary regiment, but if anyone were planning to slip a gift to the local Davion loyalists it would be them." Takumi said, trying to keep the hopefulness out of his voice.
This Dropship is a dud, would you truly be mad enough to attack with just two Companies, Old Phoenix? Is that the best Caselton can manage these days? Or are you some sort of vanguard? This world has a relevance to your House, doesn't it? Come then my old friend, I'll even pray to your Christian God that you're aboard one of these vessels. Let us settle what our fathers began . . .
Dropship DeLeon
Sakhara V
New Samarkand Military District, Draconis Combine
August 28th, 3145
The DeLeon was nearing port, Elim had never felt so uneasy in his life.
"Sakhara is mostly desert," The Captain was saying, "you won't have many places to hide and your Mechs aren't fast. Once they scramble Aerospace Fighters you're going to be run down."
Alayne pointed to a spot on the map and said, "What about this canyon? Both God Hand and Caladbolg have Jump Jets, if we can make it into the canyon-"
"You'd never make it out. It's too deep, even assuming you could land safely." The Captain said, shaking his head. "Truth is there just aren't many places to hide once you're clear of the star port."
"That is if we even manage to clear the star port." Elim spoke up. "The Combine wants to inspect the cargo, they are bound to have forces on hand just in case that cargo is dangerous."
"We told them we weren't carrying any weapons, why shouldn't they believe us?" Alayne asked.
"They have no reason to think that we are telling the truth," Elim said, and in fact they hadn't been. Though the Drop-ships were carrying no weapons or munitions to Sakhara they were still carrying two dangerous BattleMechs and two Mechwarriors who were ready to crash and burn before handing over their ancestral treasures.
He continued saying, "The Arnhem is an Invader-Class Jumpship with three docking rings, and she came from Davion space. For all the Dracs know she could have been carrying a whole regiment."
"If she had a trio of Overlords hooked up, sure. But the DeLeon and our sister vessels are all Union-class." The Captain said.
"That is still enough for a full battalion of Mechs, the DCMS probably figures that is not enough to liberate the world but enough to cause trouble." Elim said.
Alayne shook her head and told him, "So what are you saying? We should just give up?"
"I never said that," Elim told her, "I am only saying that getting out of the Star Port is not a guarantee. The whole trip from the jump-point to the planet we were hoping to pick up on rumors of any kind of resistance and we have heard nothing."
"They could be laying low, they don't know they're about to get help." Alayne said. "I can't imagine Sakhara falling without a fight, or without resistance after the fact, and since we haven't heard about it falling it must have been recent so . . . I mean there's got to be something, right?"
"Not necessarily," The Captain told them, "With communications what they are and the length of our trip Sakhara could have been taken last year and we wouldn't have known about it, especially assuming we're not special and the Combine is seizing every Jumpship that comes in-system."
Elim didn't like the sound of that. He and Alayne had been hoping against hope that upon arriving on-world they could break through the security at the star port and link up with whatever AFFS forces might still be on-world.
But as she'd said, the entire trip in they'd heard nothing of any resistance movements.
Alayne was still holding out hope, but Elim had already accepted the grim reality of what they were about to face. The two had already discussed what they would do if they truly were alone on this world; there was no way their ancestral Mechs would be handed over to the Combine. If the DCMS wanted them they would have to win them.
Actually Elim felt a sort of calm as they came nearer to the star port. His fate was inescapable now and for some reason that fact made it a lot less frightening. He was going to fight and then, hopefully after giving a worthy account . . . he was going to die.
Even his wildest imaginings couldn't conceive of any other scenario without there being some AFFS force to link up with. He and Alayne were just two Mechwarriors against a whole world, even if they had some success they'd never be able to keep their Mechs operational on the run for long.
Alayne had suggested trying to find someplace to stash them then simply trying to integrate into the civilian populace until something changed on Sakhara, be it a liberation force or an uprising, and Elim had agreed with her . . . but neither of them really believed it was possible.
They didn't know the planet well enough to find a hiding spot and since the Arnhem had come in on the commercial point instead of a pirate point there had never been any chance of their Dropship making the sort of covert planet-fall that would have allowed them to stash two Mechs and then just quietly slip into the populace.
Every minute of their journey since they'd uncoupled from the Arnhem had been watched by the warship in orbit and sometimes even escorted by Aerospace Fighters.
"We can't flee across an open desert, there's no forests to hide in and we're too far away from any mountains," Alayne said crossing her arms as she looked at the holo-map, "The only cover we'd have is the Star Port itself."
"If you consider buildings cover there's a concrete jungle all around it, the Dracs would have to be pretty far gone to fire on you in a civilian center." The Captain told her.
Elim hadn't considered that, and apparently neither had Alayne though she was less pleased about it than he was.
"I don't want to take that risk, those are innocent people."
"So are we." The Captain told her, "I'm telling you the Dracs won't shoot you while you're in the streets, it's once you get into the open you'll need to worry."
Elim was already scanning the 3D map of the city and he pointed to a marina, "Here! The water is deep here and it leads out into the ocean. Our Mechs are rated for the vacuum of space, they should be fine on the sea floor as long as we do not go sodeep the pressure crushes them. The water should interfere with their sensors too, and with it being afternoon they will not have long before the cover of darkness makes us undetectable. We can travel along the bottom and emerge anywhere along the coast we like under the cover of night, Layne!"
She frowned and said, "It'd be a risk . . . but it's a better chance than we had twenty minutes ago."
"It's our only chance." Elim told her firmly. "We make it to the water and we find someplace to stash the Mechs until we can link up with local resistance."
"If there is any," The Captain was saying but then he was interrupted.
"Captain," One of the bridge crew spoke up, "The Weston set down, before she powered down she sent us her sensor readings. That tarmac is crawling with Snakes, eleven Mechs in total."
Alayne looked a little pale at that, but Elim smiled and said, "I will take six, you take five."
"More like we'll race and see who gets what." Alayne said with a confidence it was clear she didn't really feel.
The Captain though asked, "What are we looking at here? Industrial MODs?"
That briefly gave Elim some hope. Fighting through a whole company of Industrial MODs actually might be possible. If Sakhara had been taken a while ago and the resistance fully subdued it was possible the line units were gone and second-line regiment had taken control of the planet.
We actually might get out of the star port . . . with a little bit of luck we could, he was thinking but the crewman at the sensors said, "They read BattleMechs sir, Clan Mechs mostly. There's an Atlas and a Shogun right on top of them with a Jupiter, a Hunchback IIC, a Vulture, it just gets worse from there."
"Worse than the Jupiter?" Elim couldn't help but smile grimly.
"Some of those are second-line Clan Mechs. Could it be a Nova Cat Solahma unit?" Alayne asked.
He doubted it, even Mechs once considered second-line wouldn't be seen that way these days, it would have been Industrial MODs that the Clans would have inflicted on their aging warriors instead.
But adopting a confidence he didn't feel Elim grinned wolfishly at Alayne and asked, "Does it matter?"
She grinned back and shrugged, "No. They'll be just as dead at the end of the day, E."
The Captain breathed a slow and heavy sigh. He looked at Elim and Alayne and asked, "Are you two . . . absolutely certain of your course?"
"We are." Alayne said, and Elim nodded.
The Captain took another deep breath and said, "I won't let you two march out of that hanger to certain death. Helm, slow our descent and prepare to open the cargo bay doors."
"Captain?" The Helmsman gawked.
The Captain said, "Find me a wide open space, a parking lot or a city park, blast it man a sports center would do! Get us there, if the CT wants to know why tell them we're having technical difficulties."
"You're going to set down in the city?" Alayne asked in shock.
"No. We're going to pass over and you two are going to jump out of the cargo-bay," The Captain told her, "you said yourself both your Mechs have Jump Jets."
"You're just going to blow the bay doors over the city? What about the cargo?" Alayne asked.
"A few members of the populace might get a free T-Shirt I suppose. The least you'll owe them for the impromptu parade you're about to inflict on them. But all the heavier equipment is secured to the hold, and anyway if we do it right nothing should land on anyone, yourselves included," the Captain told her. "Or are you worried about it being damaged? The Dracs are stealing it all, as far as I'm concerned you can stomp a few crates on your way out and it won't make me lose any sleep."
Alayne's smile went from forced to more genuine and she said, "You're . . . thank you, Captain. And your crew . . . this is . . . this is incredibly brave of you."
"It certainly is," Elim agreed, "What happens to you once you drop Mechs onto the city?"
The plan before was to say that the crew had been forced to go along with the two of them against their will under threat of violence, but a drop like this would almost definitely show the Combine that the crew had willingly gone along with them.
"The same thing that would have happened if you'd shot your way out of the cargo hold instead. With our dangerous Mercenary captors unloaded we throw ourselves on the mercy of the dragon, tell them you forced us the whole time, only now we can tell them we overheard where you planned to emerge."
"And send them on a wild goose hunt!" Alayne grinned, even though Elim remained skeptical that the DCMS would do anything other than torture the crew half to death and the Captain surely knew it.
The Captain nodded and said, "It's better than watching you two get vaporized trying to reenact a holo-drama shootout. Just take my advice kids, once you're clear stash those Mechs or destroy them, then blend in and wait for the Sunrise."
Elim was moved by the man's proposal, and he heard the wisdom in his advice as well. Still, it seemed almost hypocritical to him for the Captain to refer to them fighting through the star port's security as reenacting a holo-drama in one breath then go on to talk about the Sunrise in the next.
The Sunrise, or the idea that the Federated Suns would somehow bounce back from their current all but cataclysmic circumstances was an idea Elim had heard many of the Davion loyalists spout with something between hopefulness and desperation. The Federated Suns hadn't been this close to the brink since the First Succession War, and even then their recovery had taken years and circumstances that Elim did not see repeating themselves in this war.
It was a lovely idea but with the sheer damage inflicted on the Suns, the number of Regiments lost and the number of worlds taken, the number of heroes fallen, the lack of allies since the Republic had shut itself off and even the Raven Alliance had turned their backs on them if the rumors were true. It left the Suns without a single ally surrounded by enemies who hated everything they were and would like nothing more than to erase them from the Inner Sphere.
Enemies who would be all too happy to see the great and powerful Federated Suns left as crippled as a Periphery State, Blake's blood, if they keep pushing the borders back the Federated Suns might become a Periphery State, Elim realized in a moment that made his blood run cold.
But that was the problem with hoping for the Sunrise; it wasn't just going to happen. To Elim it was clear the Sunrise wouldn't come unless the people of the Federated Suns climbed into Apollo's chariot and drove it themselves.
They needed new heroes, new regiments, new Mechwarriors, and with the previous generation exhausted his generation were the ones who'd have to provide them.
Though as he thought that, he thought it was a shame he and Alayne wouldn't get the chance to be among them. Even now his expectations towards survival hadn't changed. He knew their plan was a long shot, even though he was confident the Combine wouldn't fire on them in the city he had no idea what sort of naval assets they had or how quickly they'd be able to scramble Fighters this close to the star port.
But it beat a suicidal dash across an open field.
"We will do what we can to survive, Captain." Alayne said, responding better than Elim would have.
So he just nodded in agreement.
"Get to your Mechs, Mechwarriors, and be ready," The Captain said, "We're about to drop one hundred and ninety tons of death onto the Dracs, and I doubt they're going to be happy about it."