Wherever the Universe Takes Me
by Ulquiorra9000
Chapter 26
Site Alpha, Vorarlberg
Free Rasalhague Republic
October 18th, 3051
Overste Bjekkon had a few words to share in his office later that afternoon.
"You piece of shit mercenaries!" the older man raged. His eyes bulged in their sockets, his teeth bared. "I should have known this would happen! You thugs and your idiocy... I don't know what the higher-ups were thinking, outsourcing to the likes of you! Do you realize that a cadet nearly lost his life out there? Cadet Naranda Vilks is in critical condition after his Centurion's cockpit was mauled. Well, that's what I was told, at least! And you let this happen!"
Chen stood rigidly next to Kathy, and cadet Gregoro Gustafos was right there with them. He didn't dare speak a word.
Overste Bjekkon slammed a fist on his desk. "Goddamn it! What the devil were you thinking, teaching my cadets your barbarian ways of fighting? I know what happened out there! Melee attacks, shooting the cockpit, even driving a fucking tree branch through a Crusader! That is far beyond the parameters of how we do training on Vorarlberg. Or anywhere in Rasalhague space! My cadets, they're... they're tainted!"
He stood there, huffing for breath, his eyes daring anyone to challenge him. No one did, so he continued.
"Cadet Yeung! I had hoped that your Death Commando training would have taught you a little discipline and restraint!" Overste Bjekkon jabbed an accusing finger at Chen. "Don't they train anyone right in Capellan space? I thought your people were all about creating warrior-poets and noble guardians of the Celestrial Throne, not creating bloodthirsty maniacs!"
He wasn't wrong, though Chen decided not to mention how much fist-fighting was involved in regular CCAF training. Ending the day with fewer than three bruises was an oddity.
The Overste moved on. "Sergeant Bliss! You were nothing but trouble since the day you were born, it seems. Selling drugs in high school and getting in fights? Hitching a ride with any mercenary scum who would take you? It's a wonder you're still alive, with that lifestyle."
Now he moved on to the cadet. "You. Cadet Gustafso! You told me the day you came here that you had a dream to create a freer and more just Free Rasalhague Republic and defend it with your life. And cadets Olaffsdottir and Svennog joined your little cause. And now look! Shooting cockpits? Punching those same cockpits? You nearly cost me a cadet's life, you stupid boy!"
Gregoro bowed his head, his lips pursed, his eyes unreadable.
Overste Bjekkon sighed and ran a hand over his face. "I knew this would be a bit of a circus... but this is too much. Cadet Gustafso, you are forbidden to use BattleMechs for the next 30 days, and you will experience every form of punishment we have here at Site Alpha. Understood?"
"Yes, sir!" Gregoro snapped to attention at once.
"Good. Sergeants Yeung and Bliss, I would rather see your sorry asses kicked right out of what's left of Rasalhague space. The KungsArme has enough problems without you mercenary rejects rampaging across my training field. But I need you."
This time, he fell silent, so Chen spoke up. "Under what conditions, Overste?"
"Forget your BattleMech payment," Overste Bjekkon said with a dismissive wave of his hand. "For a while there, I felt that you both had earned those Black Knights. Progress was being made. But forget it." He smoothed his hair and fixed both Sergeants with a hard glare. "You will be compensated with C-Bills, but far from the value of two Black Knights. In addition, on-site guards will be there to follow your every step. To step in if you try to mangle any other cadets."
"We're not going to strangle your cadets in their sleep," Kathy blurted out. "We're not dangerous."
Overste Bjekkon scoffed. "Bullshit. On his first day here, Sergeant Yeung punched my cadets, and then ran them so hard they vomited. Then the both of you went on to improvise many risky live-fire BattleMech duels that go against KungsArme protocol. You think you can make your own rules here." He raised his voice. "Well, you can't! Don't the Davons have a saying? 'Like a bull in a china shop?' Or whatever the hell it is. You're going to review the instructor's manual and follow every damn word in it. Understand?"
Chen swallowed. "Yes, Overste."
"Good." The Overste turned to Kathy. "And you, Sergeant Bliss?"
Kathy had her fists clenched by her sides, and she looked fit to attack him. Ultimately, she sighed quietly and said, "Yes, Overste."
"Good. Now get out of my office, all three of you. I've had enough of you bastards for one day."
Chen shoved open the door, and the three of them stepped into the hallway.
"What about cadet Vilks?" Chen asked Gregoro. "I wasn't told what will happen to him. He performed a dangerous melee attack. That tree branch..."
"He'll be reprimanded when he's better, Sergeant. Or at least, probably," Gregoro said. "I mean, his dirty trick is why I attacked cadet Vilks the way I did. Sergeants, I... I am deeply sorry. I lost my cool, and it got you both yelled at. This is all my fault. I cost you those Black Knights."
Now it was Chen who ran a hand over his face. "I can't blame you, kid. What Sergeant Vilks did was way over the line, even for me. Look, don't worry about Kath - Sergeant Bliss and I. We've been through much worse than this."
Memories of Samesh Jackson's breakdown, the slave trade job, going broke, getting stabbed, facing the Jade Falcons, being hunted to the last man on Zoetermeer... Chen could handle a few harsh words from a KungsArme officer just fine, compared to that. Still, it was a bitter disappointment to get his hands on an excellent new 'Mech, only to have it taken back. Damn, a shiny new Black Knight...
"I understand. Just... we're all on the same team, aren't we, Sergeants?" Gregoro asked earnestly. "We've lost so much territory to those invaders. Prince Magnusson is on the run. We lost the capital. We've gotta do whatever we can to restore a free republic for the people!"
Kathy managed a wry smile. "Damn, you really are a crusader, cadet. It's nice to see kids with passion like yours. Just don't let it get you killed."
"I... understood, Sergeant Bliss."
"Just report back to your barracks, cadet."
"Understood, Sergeant." Cadet Gustafso scampered off.
Kathy, meanwhile, escorted Chen back to their own bunk, then folded her arms. "What the hell is this? We come all this way to train these kids, and the Overste treats us like shit!"
"We nearly got cadet Vilks killed, Kath." Chen shrugged. "I don't like it, either. But -"
"Dammit, Scrappy, we don't have to take this." Kathy's voice hardened. "I know his type. He'll keep kicking us around 'cause it makes him feel better. Samesh taught me better. And I never took shit like that in my company before that, either. We're being borderline scammed here! We're gonna get paid just enough C-BIlls so we don't march into the Overste's office and drown him in his fucking toilet."
Chen shook his head in dismay. "I wanted a big break too, Kath. But I believe in cutting our losses. We're still young. Sort of. Peter can help us figure out another contract to put us back on the map."
"Doesn't this piss you off, Scrappy?" Kathy insisted. "These Rasalhagians still hate mercenaries, and to them, we're a necessary evil. And they make no bones about it."
Chen took hold of Kathy's shoulders. "I know. If I could, I'd give the Overste a demonstration of what Death Commando disciplinary methods look like. I once had an instructor from Warrior House Hiritsu train my platoon. He made sure we never had 'a hair out of place,' as he put it. Hardass bastard taught me a lot."
Kathy snorted with amusement. "I oughta have a drink with those guys sometime."
"Look, Kathy... I guess I'm just tired of hate," Chen admitted. "I hated the Davions, then I hated the nightmares about Mei that woke up at night, then I hated the fact that I had nowhere to go, then I hated Samesh and what he did to ruin the Werewolves... I'm done with it. I go wherever the universe takes me. I'm not ready to die. But I think certain parts of me have lived out their own lives."
Kathy delicately took hold of Chen's head, a soft look in her eyes. "Don't talk like that, Scrappy. Thinking you've got no soul left, nothing left to hope for... I know that's not true. We've been doing this for eleven years now. You're not done."
She wrapped her arms tight around Chen and nuzzled her head in his shoulder. "Just tell me that you still have a fire burning in you, and faith that there's a goddamn reason you're in this universe. Tell me how alive you are."
Chen gently patted a hand on Kathy's head. "I'll have to give that some more thought. I admit, in these last few years, my thinking has always been about hard numbers and the next contract and the guns in my hands." He nodded. "But dammit, you make a good point. I'm sorry, Kathy, if I worried you. Do I look a bit dead on the outside? I'll make sure it doesn't go more than skin deep."
He wondered what his 18-year-old self would think of this, that fresh-faced youth who had just graduated high school and was waiting for the next hoverbus headed to the Capella War College. He was such an idealistic kid then... it was the eve of the Fourth Succession War, and not even the horror of the Davion conquest had extinguished his spirit.
"Okay. That's good enough for me," Kathy said with a nervous chuckle. "You worry me sometimes, Scrappy. I had to check in."
"I think I need that service more than I can say."
By now, a Black Knight was the last thing on his mind.
*o*o*o*o*
Nadir Jump Point, Kandis System
Wolf Clan Occupation Zone
November 3rd, 3051
Sergeant Senn Tettig felt his nerves practically soothing themselves as he and his squadmates soared through the system's open space near its yellow sun. If anyone tried to sneak into the remainder of the FRR, they might come through this system, and the 5th Flying Drakons would be there to sound the alarm. The same was being done at the Moritz, Radstadt, and Stanzach systems too, and though the invaders had taken those systems last year, they would go no further. Nor further at all!
Menig Karl Ivansdot tapped into the comm. "Sergeant, I don't suppose I could take this chance to practice those high-G maneuvers one more time?"
"If you wish, Menig. Let's see those moves. Nothin' else here except that sun, anyway. Just the way I like it."
"Watch me, sir!" Menig Ivansdot soared through empty space in his Stingray, and Sergeant Tettig nodded with approval as the Menig did some serious loops and corkscrew maneuvers. In a real fight, those would shake someone right off his ass for sure.
"Keep it up, and you might make Korporal one of these days," Sergeant Tettig told him on the comm. "But try that last one again. It looked a little iffy."
"Yes, Sergeant." Menig Ivansdot adjusted his thrusters and swooped up at an aggressive angle.
A WarShip appeared out of fucking nowhere.
"Sergeant!" Menig Ivansdot yelped. "Are those -"
"Son of a bitch! It can't be!" Sergeant Tettig felt his guts go ice-cold as he took in the sight of that WarShip, a gunmetal-gray behemoth with the unmistakable logo of a snarling wolf head painted on its hull. Three more JumpShips showed up right alongside it, each loaded with DropShips, no doubt packed with 'Mechs and soldiers.
Sergeant Tetting adjusted his joysticks and angled away from the invading ships. "All fighters, on me! We have to report back. Get to the -"
"Sergeant! Enemy contacts on radar!" Menig Ivansdot cried. "I think they were prepared for company like us!"
"Well, doesn't that figure," Sergeant Tettig said numbly. "We can't outrun the bastards at his rate. Prepare to engage! I'm calling in reinforcements!"
Those reinforcements might make it on time. Might.
Sergeant Tettig sent his warning signal, and prayed that it would reach the right ears. In the meantime, enemy fighters were rapidly approaching, and though Sergeant Tettig hadn't personally fought any of the FRR's invaders yet, he knew second-hand that he was facing some serious firepower here.
The enemy fighters were nearly in firing range, and Sergeant Tettig's sensors struggled to identify them. The system gave up and labeled them "[UNCLASSIFIED]," but it did check out each fighter's weapons and size.
They were all the same, and Sergeant Tettig swore at the sight. Each fighter weighed in at 70 tons, outmassing the Stingrays that made up his squadron, and each one was packing an LRM 20 launcher, PPCs, and what seemed to be large pulse lasers. Where did these invaders get that kind of tech?
No more time to wonder! The enemy fighters got into range, and pulse lasers strobed through the blackness of space and sliced right into Sergeant Tettig's squad with impunity. Worse, those fighters also fired their PPCs, and they scored accurate hits from a long distance.
"What kind of range do these bastards have?" Menig Ivansdot grated. "They're keeping their distance. I can't hit then with my PPC or larges like this!"
"Cut the chatter, Menig!" Sergeant Tetting snapped, but silencing the nervous Menig didn't make this situation any easier. Sure enough, these hostile fighters were scoring hits from an astonishing distance with those PPCs, and the enemy pilots were careful to stay out of range of any return fire. Shit! Every time Sergeant Tettig sped up to catch the bastards, they matched his speed, no matter what he did.
"Sergeant! One on my six! AAAARGH -"
Menig Ivansdot's Stingay disintegrated when an enemy fighter got on his tail and fired its large pulse lasers and LRMs. First, the lasers vaporized the damaged fighter's remaining armor, and the pack of flesh-hungry LRMs finished the job. Molten bits of Stingray scattered every which way.
"Bastards!" Sergeant Tettig roared. He banked hard to the right and caught one of the enemy fighters unaware, and squeezed his triggers without hesitation. His twin large lasers punished the enemy's left wing, scouring off glowing armor with impunity. But it didn't stop the fighter. It twisted out of the way, and one of its pals took over the fight.
"Warning. Damage critical," the Stingray's computer stated when the enemy fighter pounded it with twin large pulse lasers. Sergeant Tettig bared his teeth as his aerospace fighter wobbled and trembled, and LRMs exploded all over its rear and center armor. Warning displays were going nuts on his HUD.
"Sergeant! I -" another Menig yelped, before an enemy fighter's twin PPCs tore it in half. Just a few seconds later, another of his fighters succumbed to enemy fire, then another and another.
Sergeant Tettig now flew alone, and oddly enough, the remaining fighters didn't swarm him. Instead, the spare fighters hung back as their friend kept up the assault on Sergeant Tettig's lone Stingray. What, was this a goddamned game to them?
"Come on! Try me!" Sergeant Tettig worked his joysticks as hard as he could without tearing them out of the cockpit, and he barely slipped past his enemy and maneuvered into position to return fire. He roared incoherently as his PPC and medium lasers tore into the enemy fighter's armor, and he scored a critical hit. Smoke and flame burst from the fighter's tattered right wing, and the mysterious fighter swooped out of the way.
Sergeant Tettig's victory was short-lived. One of the other fighters broke from the pack and arced after Tettig's Stingray, and at once, LRMs hammered its rear. Now the Stingray was ready to fall apart, and Tetting felt heat from his damaged engine leaking into the cockpit. He knew he had seconds left to live.
He angled his Stingray to face the enemy ship, as though to beg it for answers. There the bastard sat, a full-blown WarShip like the days of old, that wolf insignia snarling silently in the void. Hmmmmm... why did the wolf head have six stars on the background, in a row? What did they represent? What the fuck was all this -
Tetting, mercifully, felt no pain as the enemy fighter's PPC sliced his Stingray in half and vaporized his body.
