BattleTech: The Prodigy
by Ulquiorra9000
Chapter 25: Succession
Headquarters, moon TX-45
Periphery
May 14, 3074
Ras had been trained for hostage situations in two ways: one, for when he needed to rescue his own people from enemy hands, and two, for when he was the hostage. Here, in the under-levels of a Periphery pirate base, Ras needed every skill he had learned to resist the will of the Triumvirate, the three pirate lords who had united their forces.
Hunger burned in Ras' stomach and his throat and mouth were parched and sore from both thirst and his shouting after a few torture sessions down here. Stripped to the waist, Ras was currently strapped to a sturdy wooden board in a square room with a single light bulb on the ceiling for illumination. The walls were a simple gunmetal color with a few rust spots and the door was a similar color. It didn't even have an electronic lock, just a simple but large bolt lock.
Just breathe. Focus on the breaths. In, out. In, out. Ras slowly receded from the physical world and isolated his mind in a dark void where he had only his breathing pattern for company. His battered, sweaty body cried for relief but Ras tuned it out. There was only the breathing.
Worse than the physical torture was the mental suffering that he felt down here. After a few jumpship trips deeper into the Periphery, Ras knew that he was well outside the Striking Tigers' ability to find him or fight their way to him. The battle back on Silea had clearly been a trap intended to destroy the Tigers for good. No matter how many times he reviewed the battle, however, Ras failed to see how his men had been deceived. Sayuri's intel analysis had been spot-on as usual. It couldn't have been a mistake.
Could it?
The metal lock rasped as a rod was slid back, then the door creaked open on its sturdy hinges and three men walked in. Two wore body armor and carried assault rifles, probably just for show. The third was different: he wore an expensive red silk robe and had long, dark brown hair combed to perfection. His immaculate appearance was accentuated by his prince-like face and haughty demeanor.
"Going to... have your turn, pretty boy?" Ras panted, aware of how horrible he looked. His golden blond hair was clumped from sweat and messy.
"Boy? I am a leader of men, I'll have you know," the robed man smiled easily. He spread his arms wide as he slowly walked toward Ras. "I am William of the Triumvirate. Surely you have heard of me?" Behind him, his men shut the door and hurried to catch up to their leader.
"So you're William. I imagined... someone tough." Ras coughed from the dryness in his throat. He tasted his own blood.
William laughed. "I always get that, right before my enemies are destroyed. If you want someone who looks as tough as he is, try Shuran Thomela of the Virgo Federation."
Ras didn't respond right away. His tormentors had been kind enough to tell Ras just who his captors were, the better to intimidate him. Xavier Rosseau, Shuran Thomela, and now William. It was clear that Ras wasn't intended to leave this jungle moon alive with that information. "What about... Xavier?"
"A bit of a brat, but he is an effective leader," William shrugged. "He sees this all as a game. Too bad his opening move did not work out when the King of Clubs ambushed your battalion on Lowland."
"Oh yeah... I remember that." Ras forced a nasty grin. "That day, I found out that Periphery pirates are as crappy at fighting as everyone says. You think those rust-bucket 'mechs could destroy the Striking Tigers?"
One of the guards drew a knife from his belt and drew the sharp, silver blade across Ras' bare chest. The Kommandant clenched his teeth but made no sound. "On Silea, 'rust-bucket' 'mechs were certainly enough to send you Tigers running, now weren't they?" William commented, his brown eyes glinting.
Ras shook his head. "You got lucky."
"No. the King of Hearts and Queen of Diamonds proved their worth. They helped Xavier arrange that trap and it worked quite well. Didn't even need the King of Spades to help out."
"Sounds like Xavier has a full deck."
"He does. But now this game is over."
Ras grunted. "Going to make this torture session personal?"
"No, nothing like that." William took another step closer and took a black cloth from his robe's pocket, then slipped it over his head. It was an executioner's hood with square eye holes. "Now, I will send the Tigers a message they'll never forget. Recorder, please."
Ras watched warily as one guard unclasped a small video recorder from his belt and switched it on, training its lens on Ras.
"Now," William said, his voice slightly muffled, "smile for the camera, Ras Farlow."
*o*o*o*o*
Military garrison, Enders Cluster
Lyran Alliance
May 17, 3074
Lane had never felt more anxious and ashamed than this. He had suffered defeats and mishaps at the hands of the Word of Blake and the Jade Falcons, but thanks to his loyal lancemates and teachers such as Michael Lorin, he had found ways to achieve peace with himself and learn from his mistakes. He had moved on from those earlier pitfalls.
This was different. He had failed to protect his own brother, and now Kommandant Ras Farlow was in enemy hands.
"Lieutenant Lane Farlow?" asked a local guard once the man walked into the garrison's bunk room. Here, the Striking Tigers Mechwarriors caught some rest while the 'mechs were repaired at the local workshop.
"Yes?" Lane sat upright on his bunk, suddenly alert.
"Your company commanders want you in the comm room right away. The head intelligence officer for your battalion has news."
Lane slowly got to his feet, his insides feeling cold. "Makoto, Jennifer, Kyle, come with me."
All four of them followed the guard through the large facility's hallways and into the comm room, where the guard took up position by the door. In the dim room, view screens and computers took up three of the walls but they were currently blank save one. The largest screen had "INCOMING VIDEO MESSAGE" blinking on its screen in green letters.
"This just came in," Sayuri Miyagi said shakily when the Prodigy lance warriors came in. Darchin Gulamar, Xavier Garfield and Allison Skyllia were there with her. "It's from the Periphery, site of origin unknown. It could be from the bandit alliance."
"Play it, then," Lane said, trying to ignore the pitying looks that the company commanders were giving him.
Taking a deep breath, Sayuri pressed her finger on the play button.
At once, the screen came to life. The image was a little grainy and shaky, clearly shot from a handheld recorder. There was no mistaking the contents, though: the camera man stood in a square metal room with Ras bound to an upright board. The elder Farlow was shirtless, revealing the cuts, burns and bruises that covered his skin from neck to waist. He was panting and trembling.
It's just like I feared, Lane thought. The pirates had fun with their captive. Why had it been Ras and not him? He was just a lance commander, while Ras was the real prize, a battalion commander.
"Do you see this, Striking Tigers? It's your friend, the esteemed Ras Conrad Farlow," came a man's aristocratic voice. The camera man turned to focus on a man clad in red robes and an extortioner's hood. He held a simple pistol in his left hand, held limp by his side.
"Who the hell's that?" Allison blurted.
"I am William," the man said as though listening. "William of the Triumvirate. You will never find me, and you will never know who I really am. But I can tell you this: stay out of the Periphery."
With that, William turned to face Ras and leveled the pistol at the captive Mechwarrior. "My men will have their way," William continued. "The Lyran Alliance is a fat cow that sits idle with its many treasures. Better to put that wealth into the hands of those who would use it properly. You see, the Successor States believe themselves sovereign of human space, and that makes them complacent, unaware of the powers in the shadows." He carefully aimed down the pistol's sights. "Once the Alliance is harvested, I will vanish back into the shadows, and may the whole Inner Sphere learn a valuable lesson! Power belongs only to those who will use it."
Lane clenched his fists. Don't do it, don't do it! He thought desperately, but there was nothing he could do. William squeezed the trigger and Ras' head jerked back as his brain was shredded by a single shot. The elder Farlow hung limply in his restraints, his head drooping. Then the video cut.
"Oh my God..." Allison clapped her hands over her mouth, eyes transfixed on the now-blank screen.
"That bastard," Darchin huffed, his face livid. "Periphery asshole!"
"I should have saved him," Lane muttered.
Jennifer looked at him. "What?"
"I should have saved him!" Lane exploded. His voice bounced off the room's confined walls. "Don't you guys get it? During that battle in Silea! Ras was right there and I let his 'mech get destroyed!"
"Don't blame yourself. Please don't." Jennifer took hold of Lane's upper arms and stared into his eyes with her amber ones. "Guilt is only a distraction."
Lane wrenched himself free. "How can I not blame myself? Or was this everyone's fault? Couldn't we have seen that trap coming? We're better than that." Realizing something, he rounded on Sayuri. "You said that your data was airtight! We were so sure that Silea was the right place to be!"
Sayuri sputtered. "I-I double-checked my work, Farlow. All my men reviewed the data and checked it against proxy routines. It was declared legitimate."
"But it wasn't in hindsight, was it?"
"No... it wasn't." Tears welled up in Sayuri's green eyes. "My team and I looked over the data again. This time, we realized that we had been deceived. The pirates must have superior communication equipment capable of fooling even our diagnostics. It's the only explanation."
"You..." Lane jabbed an accusing finger at Sayuri. "Then you killed him! We landed on Silea's trap because you and your men were so sure about your work. You failed us!"
All at once, Lane felt a fist smash into his right cheek and he crumpled to the floor in shock. Voices babbled in alarm as Makoto towered over his fallen commander. "Don't you dare talk that way!" Makoto thundered. "Don't you think she feels guilty enough as it is?"
"Corporal Yamada, I should throw you out of the battalion for this," Allison hissed. "Striking a superior officer..."
"No, he's right," Lane croaked. All the fury and spite bled out of him and he suddenly felt cold. Slowly, he got to his feet and rubbed a hand over his cheek. He looked Makoto in the eye. "I'm sorry, Makoto. I was out of line."
Makoto stared angrily at his commander for a second before he, too, relaxed. He huffed a weary breath. "I'm sorry too, Lieutenant. That's not why we call ourselves the Striking Tigers, is it?"
"No." Lane turned back to Sayuri. "And you too. I've been with the Tigers for less than a year but I know that you and your men are 100% devoted to this battalion. You would never do something unless you gave it your full effort. The pirates outmaneuvered us all, and that can't be helped."
"I think it can." Sayuri stiffened her back. "I have to requisition additional equipment, crew, and updated data processors to ensure that this doesn't happen again. No one expected the pirates to attack us on the cyber warfare front, but now we'll be ready."
"Thank you." Lane turned to Allison. "Sir, who will replace... you know..."
"Kommandant Farlow left a video message concerning the succession to his position," Allison said. "Sayuri, play it."
This time Sayuri pressed play with much less dread as Ras appeared on the screen again. This time he was wearing simple civilian clothes and sat on a couch at the Strantor Academy's main lounge. "This message is for Hauptmann Skyllia, Hauptmann Garfield and Hauptmann Gulamar." He grinned. "And, of course, to my own brother, Lieutenant Farlow. The Striking Tigers face many dangers and one of these days, our enemies will deal a serious blow to the battalion. I may lose my life or be rendered incapable of service. In that event, I have chosen Allison Skyllia as the new commander. Congratulations, Kommandant Skyllia. The brass will know to promote you to this rank. I've left word for them to do so in the event of my death."
Allison stared. "Me? As the commander?"
"And," Ras added, "I want you, Allison, to watch over my brother and his lancemates. They're just cubs now, but they're among the best recruits that the Striking Tigers battalion has ever had."
Everyone in the room rounded on the younger Farlow. Lane's previous grief and anger were now replaced by mingled surprise and gratitude. "I won't let you down, Kommandant Skyllia," he promised.
Allison beamed. "Great to hear, Lieutenant."
"Well, I suppose that's all," Ras concluded. "Fight well, Striking Tigers. Everyone's counting on you." Then he reached for the recorder's control panel and the screen went black.
"In that case, full speed ahead to Strantor, everyone," Allison declared. He voice was still a little shaky but a tinge of optimism had settled in. "We're going to bounce right back. New 'mechs, new pilots, new leadership. We'll rally more to our cause and destroy that Triumvirate for good."
Lane saluted. "Roger that, Kommandant."
Skyllia nodded and turned to Makoto. "And Yamada?"
Makoto blinked. "Yes, sir?"
"I'm busting you back down to Private. Let your 'mech do the striking from now on."
The dark-haired Mechwarrior flushed. "Copy that."
Then Allison rounded on Lane, her smile gone. "And I want you to not yell at my intelligence staff or anyone else in this battalion. Keep yourself in control. Am I clear?"
Lane flushed too. "Yes, Kommandant."