Chapter 3
"How are they, Doc Cottle?" asked Major Tan. He tried to stop fidgeting, but he could not dredge up the concentration to allow his tired mind to command his hands to halt what they were doing. The vehicle crews had taken the most losses, as the more vulnerable vehicles had been taken advantage of by the pirates. Every combat vehicle had suffered copious of damage, or outright destroyed.
"We lost fifteen patients," admitted the white-haired doctor unhappily. He took another drag from his cigarette and continued, waving the flaming tip to add emphasis. "Eight from the two Pikes – the ammo explosion killed them instantly. There was nothing left but pieces. Three from the hovertank lance, and the whole Sturmfeur crew when the turret blew into pieces.
"However, Captain Walter is alive, as are the injured MechWarriors. One PBI was injured in the JumpShip assault, and an armor trooper from when he fell during the DropShip infiltration.
"All in all, it was acceptable." He made a tired wave to indicate the infirmary entrance beside him. "You can let the others know that they can go in to see them."
"Thanks, Doc," said Diondi gratefully. He gave the doctor a squeeze on the shoulder before opening the door and stepping in. Cold Lake's military hospital was just like the base: big and empty. There were more than fifty rooms in a single ward, and each room held only two people, at the most, now. Diondi went along the hallway, glancing at the nameplates, before he came to the set that he was looking for. Knocking on the door, he waited a beat before coming in.
Moving silently to the bed nearest the door, he looked down at the occupant. Rachel was sleeping on her back; her hair was splayed out on the pillow, and she was snoring adorably. Her hands were placed over her side, where he knew that a slice of shrapnel had cut it open; not seriously, thank God. He heard a noise and looked up to see Linda Pepper grinning at him.
"What's so funny?" he whispered at her.
"You are," she replied back, biting her cheek to stop giggling. "It's so obvious that you two like each other, but you keep on denying yourself and she keeps denying herself and it's painful for the both of you. Hell, the whole battalion even has a pool going on you two. We don't mind if you two get together; there's nothing in the regulations that prohibits that. I just don't understand why you feel the need to hurt yourself like that."
He gave Pepper a look, before moving his head to gaze at Rachel again, and brushed some hair off her forehead. Without looking up, he started speaking again. "Get better soon, Pepper. I don't like my people being wounded."
"Yes, sir. A couple of broken ribs won't keep me down for long," she replied unhesitatingly. "You take care of yourself too, sir. The battalion doesn't like its CO to be too hard on himself."
Pepper turned her back on him and put her head back on her pillow. Leaning down, Diondi wavered for a moment before placing a light kiss of Rachel's lips. A moan from Rachel caused him to pull back rapidly. With a last look at her sleeping form, he left the room, closing the door softly behind him.
-----
"What is our status on repairs, Chief?" asked Major Tan, tapping entries into his memo pad.
"We're back to about eighty percent in BattleMech strength right now," said the Chief, "and I expect my crews to bring us back up to full strength by the end of the week. The vehicles are at about fifty percent, with some completely unrepairable. The Pikes are a complete write-off; the ammo explosion gutted almost everything, though the RAC/5's were salvageable. Same with the Sturmfeur, because it has a shot engine and drivetrain that'll cost more than it's worth to put back together.
"We haven't touched the salvage yet, but Planetary Command has expressed a lot of interest in buying the whole lot of it, and they've offered us some concessions in return."
"Such as?" asked Major Tan, his interest piqued.
"For starters, they said we could pick out two or three from the bunch for ourselves, and we could keep the JumpShip if we gave them the DropShips," said the Chief. "On top of that, they're also prepared to give us a Mobile HQ that was mothballed after the 4th Succession War. I've checked the thing out, and it's in pristine condition – it even has the holoprojector and a fusion powerplant."
"A Mobile HQ! That's incredible!" murmured Major Tan excitedly. "That'll raise our MRBC rating by quite a bit!"
"That's not the best part," continued Chief Tyrol with a smile. "That Mobile HQ comes with a trailer that we can set up near the DropShips when we land that contains another computer system, and that particular system is from the Star League-era; it has more than twice the computing power of the one inside the Mobile HQ. The trailer can function as a command center that can link with the Mobile HQ and add on the capabilities it already has. As well, it'll crack anything but 1024-bit encryption in real-time, or near enough that it won't matter a lot, and keep track of all battlefield data autonomously."
"My God," whispered Major Tan, sitting back in surprise. "We'll do the deal."
"Alright, sir," replied the Chief. "I thought you'd agree to do it, which why I've sent two of my techs to fetch it earlier. As well, I've picked out a Centurion and a Phoenix Hawk to act as guards for it. I trust it meets with your approval, sir?"
"Chief, I'm getting the impression that I'm not needed to run this unit," chuckled the Major. "Why don't you take over as CO?"
The two men laughed together before turning back to the day's paperwork.
-----
"Good morning, Rachel," greeted Linda Pepper as she entered the hospital room that she and Rachel had shared but a day before. "Ready to go back to active duty?"
"Absolutely!" exclaimed Rachel. "Cabin fever's beginning to set in already, so I want out. The Adventures of Clan Spaniel is beginning to get repetitive; there's only so much you can take of Star Captain Bob and his pet Timber Wolf before you want to shoot the Tri-Vid."
"Good then!" exclaimed Linda. "We'll get Doc Cottle to check you over and then we can go."
"Oh, come on, Linda!" pleaded Rachel. "Who trusts a doctor who smokes anyway?"
With a chuckle, Linda handed over the bag of clothing she carried in her hand and waited as Rachel went into the washroom to change. She came out wearing fatigues and Linda held the room door open for Rachel as she tied up her hair into a ponytail.
"Where are we going now?" asked Rachel in curiosity. "What did I miss while I was out after they stitched my side up?"
"Nothing much, just a visit from our esteemed leader," Linda replied teasingly. "Oh, and a battalion-wide shooting tournament scheduled to take place right now."
"He visited me?" cried out Rachel. "That idiot – he pulled the same trick on Achernar and Huntress! What kind of visitor visits when other people are asleep, and doesn't even leave a note?"
"Well, I wouldn't say he didn't leave anything," teased Linda. "It's not something you'd find on your bedside anyway."
"Oh. I thought that was a dream," whispered Rachel softly.
"No, no dream," confirmed Linda cheerfully. "I used my watch face to watch him do it, and you moaned after."
"I was having a good dream," she countered weakly, blushing when Linda raised her eyebrow at her. "A very good dream."
"Right," she snorted. The two turned the corner and exited onto the main parade square, where the whole base was gathered together, watching the tournament excitedly.
"Ladies and gentlemen!" boomed the announcer. "Welcome to the first-ever Titans Potato Cannon Competition! In the final round, we have the Tech Crew, Titan Lance and Transport Lance competing for the title of Potato Master! These three competing teams have to hit the cockpit of Leftenant Julie Hackensack's – give us a wave, ma'am! – Linebacker twice to win the title, and the grand prize, which will be revealed later at the podium! Thank you so kindly, Leftenant Hackensack, for lending us the use of your 'Mech! Be assured, the losing team faces the arduous task of cleaning the Leftenant's 'Mech, inside and out!
"Ladies and gentlemen, please put your hands together for the Tech Crew!"
The crowd cheered lustily as the first team moved their assemblage of parts up towards the designated set-up point, and assembled a fearsome machine. Two compressors were chugging away, pushing compressed air inside a storage tank; what seemed to be miles of tubing snaked between unidentifiable pieces of machinery before ending at the jet-black breech of the actual cannon assembly. The barrel was monstrous, measuring over six feet in length and ten inches in diameter.
Within a few minutes, the techs were ready to fire off their contraption, and assumed their firing position. The crowd cheered once more as the announcer began a countdown from ten, and Rachel leaned over to whisper in Linda's ear.
"When you said shooting tournament, I thought you meant one with guns, not potatoes!" she said, unable to hold back a giggle. The two females laughed before turning their attention back to the spectacle happening before them.
The cheers surged as the leader of the team pressed the switch to release the compressed-air valve, but turned to groans as the cannon shot the potato high. The tech crew shook their heads at their cannon's failure but got to work at preparing for their second shot. This time, it successfully connected with the target, disintegrating into pieces as it met the unyielding ferro-glass.
The crowd cheered, but Chief Tyrol could be seen at the front, shaking his head in disappointment. The cheering peaked as the next group was announced to be Titan Lance.
Titan Lance's set-up was already installed on a cart, and so they only had to wheel it up before firing. Whereas the techs had a mechanical monstrosity as their potato cannon, the command lance, sans their injured member, had one that appeared very organic in appearance. It was a simple affair; a metal cube frame, with rounded edges, held what looked like to be a half-pipe, flanked by two bars running it's entire length. A fairly tall crossbar ran between the two parallel bars, and had a cup right in the middle, obviously designed to hold the potato. The crossbar ran freely on the parallel bars, and it was connected by a thick rod through a slit on the half-pipe to the tube that was underneath. All in all, it seemed plain beside the techs' earlier monster.
Major Tan critically examined each potato, and passed two over before settling on the third. He nodded at Robertson who then attached two leads from a powerpack at either ends of the tube, and gave a thumbs-up to Lucy. She flicked the cover off of a switch, and waited for both men to clear the area before moving it to its active position. The entire frame bucked as an incredible force dragged the crossbar forwards, and the potato was flung airborne by the horrific acceleration.
The potato made an incredibly loud 'splat!' sound as it impacted the ferro-glass, and had completely flattened itself into a circular pile of goop that refused to slide down. A stunned crowd regained its bearings and cheered, and the happy team members waved right back.
The second shot was as just spectacular as the first, and the crowd roared in satisfaction.
"Myomer! That's what they're using in that tube!" crowed an exhilarated Rachel. "How ingenious!" Myomer technology was the basis behind a BattleMech; without these artificial muscles animating a 'Mech's skeleton, it was only useful as a lawn sculpture or a massive paperweight. Myomer musculature contracted when an electrical charge was applied to it, mimicking human muscles, but with hundreds of times of the strength that a human muscle possessed. A small bundle could bend steel bars into pretzels, and lift tons of weight.
This time around, the transport lance members went up. Their apparatus was on a stand, and looked like a cross between the two previous entrants. It was a sleek beauty, with flowing lines centred on two tubes mounted in an 'under-over' configuration.
It only took about a minute or so for the contrivance to be readied, and the crowd screamed ecstatically when a pair of rockets burst forth, each carrying a potato in place of the warhead. The motors cut out fifty meters from the cockpit, and allowed the potatoes to thump into the ferro-glass gracefully.
"Ladies and gentlemen, it seems that we have a tie! In the upcoming tiebreaker round, we will have the remaining contestants shoot at moving targets!"
---
With twenty hits out of twenty-four attempts on a pair of battle-armour troopers, the Transport Lance Crew won with a slim margin over Titan Lance, who placed second.
The crowd devolved into a very big barbecue, with the base personnel supplying the beer and the booze. Music was blaring out of speakers and everybody seemed to be enjoying himself or herself. The walking wounded were helped over and given food, and told to enjoy themselves.
Major Tan stood resting against the feet of his Turkina, repaired from the ravages of battle, absorbing everything that was transpiring before him. So, he wasn't truly surprised when he felt Rachel sidle up beside him.
"Timbiqui?" she offered, holding the still-frosty bottle up for perusal. He wordlessly took it and sipped from it, letting the cool liquid wash the bitter taste out of his mouth. Before he could speak, Rachel cut him off and began speaking first.
"They knew what they were getting into," she said, not waiting for a reply. "We have a dangerous profession. Death, danger, and injury are all part and parcel of our life as a mercenary, and they died doing their duty: protecting the innocent and helpless. We're not some scum unit that goes and causes trouble; I remember you stating that we will refuse any contract that endangers innocent life, and that's what we are defending against! Nobody blames you for anything, least of all me."
Silence was her only reply, and the two stood there, letting the noise from the party wash over them.
