As Yet Unknown - Star Wars/Battletech Crossover

Chap. II.

Read the confession from the first chapter, please, and you'll feel better.

Ahminov suddenly awoke, unaware that he had fallen asleep, and cursed at himself. He saw a nearby trooper still slumbering in the night, and he shivered, looking around for any Yuuzhan Vong that may be still around. He was puzzled that he was still alive, but determined to keep it that way. He shook the infantry trooper, but she stayed asleep. He shook her a bit harder, and she suddenly gasped awake, her hands clawing at something that wasn't there, her eyes wide. She saw him and grunted. "I'm trying to sleep, dammit," she grumbled.

"But what about the Vong?" he asked in a whisper, desperately trying to keep their voices down to better keep them unseen.

"The what? What are you talking about? You trying to say Liao?"

Ahminov reeled. Was this some kind of sick joke? "The Vong, dammit! The big, humanoid things with organic weapons!" On an afterthought, he added, "Who the hell's Liao, anyway?"

The woman opened one eye and grunted again. "Vong? Is that what you call them? They sure are vicious bastards, anyway. Oh, and you must be kidding."

"I'm not kidding! The Vong were here, don't you remember?"

She shoved him back, onto the grass, and sat up. She pulled a pad of paper from somewhere and a pen.

"What's that?" Ahminov asked.

"Pad n' paper, what's it look like freebirth?"

"What's…" Ahminov had a hard time rolling his tongue around the unfamiliar word, "paper?"

The woman stopped, then laughed. "You must be a comedian where you come from or somethin', cause that's pretty funny!"

"No, I'm serious, dammit!" His head ached, and he grasped it, attempted to crush it to stop the pain.

"Paper? You write on it?"

Ahminov brightened. "Oh, is that what you call it? Most people call it 'plastisheet'." He said it in the tone of voice you would use to tell someone from Europe who called a chicken a "cock" that most people called it a chicken. Just for politeness.

He grabbed it, then grinned as it ripped. "You musta made it wrong or somethin'. Most of it is nearly invincible, see?" He pulled a note from his sixteen year old sister out of a pocket on his combat fatigues and showed it to her. He suddenly realized he didn't recognize her.

"What planet you from, anyway? Never heard of one that calls it 'paper'." He laughed. "Boy, you musta been confused in squad meetings when Captain said to pull out your plasti schedule, huh?"

The woman merely looked at him like a deranged lunatic and said, "Rasalhague. I earned the right to fight with the Chaos Wolves from my father, who fought in the Inner Sphere wars against Victor Steiner-Davion, before being killed in a Trial of Greivance against Clan Jade Falcon."

Ahminov's jaw dropped. "Wait a minute. You're one of…" he suddenly couldn't remember the name of the outsiders, and his head hurt again.

"Clan Wolf, yeah. You okay?"

Ahminov's head was pounding now, and he lay back down. "No. So what happened in the battle?"

"You don't remember?" She seemed honestly surprised.

"I don't remember much of anything, actually, after a certain point. WE got slaughtered, then pulled back, then you showed up. There was a fallen mech, and then a woman, but, after that…its all gone."

"Well, your Vong friends retreated into the forest, screaming curses and dismantling the mechs on their way out. Don't you people follow standard salvage rules?"

Ahminov thought about it for a moment. "Well, the winner usually salvages blasters from the field after its over. Any vehicles that were hit by an ion cannon are usually refitted and returned to service."

"But what about Battlemechs?"

"What!?! WTF's a 'Battlemech'?"

"THE GIANT WALKY THINGIES! Or did you not notice the massive thing in front of you?"

Ahminov sat up, and saw a rather large, scorched Dire Wolf, hunched over in the powered down position. And beyond it…endless stars, with Furia spinning gently in the darkness, a gray green jewel of light.

"Wh-what happened? I thought we had won?"

"Oh, we did." Her voice sounded bitter. "They didn't seem to want to allow us to honorably have the planet, and released some sort of seeds into the crust. At least, that's what the aerofighters reported."

Ahminov shook his head. "No. No! You can't be serious? What about all the people?"

"I suspect they'll be treated under the conditions of the Ares Convention."

Ahminov grabbed the woman's shoulders, and shoved his face towards hers till they were centimeters apart. "THERE. IS. NO. ARES. CONVENTION. THERE. ARE. NO. SALVAGE. RULES. What there are, are a planet full of Vong slave warriors. Look, where are we going now?"

"Back to the WarShip, then to the nearest normal," and this, she said clearly against New Republic planets, "planet, regardless of who owns it. We need to refit our mechs."

"But what about the New Republic?"

It was her turn to scream at Ahminov. "Look, I don't know half of what you're talking about, but listen to me. We are not the New Republic. We are not an old republic. We are not an ancient civilization, nor are we an uprising, we are a Clan! Do you have any clans nearby?" Ahminov shook his head. "Smoke Jaguar, Jade Falcon, Nova Cat? Any of them sound familiar?" Ahminov shook his head again. "Well we're leaving! We never meant to get tangled up in a war that wasn't ours! If you want more of us, try contacting the Mercenaries Guild, maybe they can help you for the right amount of D-bills, but we ARE NOT THOSE PEOPLE!"

"Fine. Where are the rest of my unit, so I can get back to people I understand."

"YOU DON'T GET IT, DO YOU?! They're dead! Get it? Dead! Gone! Finished! May they die with honor and meet Kerensky above." She crossed herself and lay back down. "Now shut up and go to sleep."

"Dead…" Ahminov lay back down, to corral his thoughts and continue the argument, but the promise of sleep and the hypnotic dull roar of the engines were too much, and he fell into a dark unconsciousness.

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