Major Raanan sat in the Governor's office with his command staff. Colonel Wolf had chosen him for this mission because he knew the planet. An elite unit like his stationed to garrison a politically insignificant world for six months had been a thorough waste of time. Now they were to hold the planet again, this time for the Draconis Combine. At least until House forces arrived.
Personally, he thought it was over-kill. Four BattleMechs to destroy its old garrison of five infantry platoons and a 20-ton Wasp. Orders were orders. He missed the days of bidding for combat; it simplified things.
The Major was a freeborn warrior of the Clan Wolf. He saw battle against Clan Ghost Bear before he linked up with the Wolf's Dragoons some five years later. The pay was good, though he cared little for it. When he was strapped into his Wolverine, facing off against his unit's enemies. That was what he lived for. His lancemates were of similar caliber, all freeborn warriors of Clan Wolf.
Sergeant Cook was prattling about city logistics. While Raanan was the ranking representative from House Kurita, he was hardly qualified to run a city – much less a planet. Cook was able to handle everything in that regard. As the sergeant wound down, Raanan interrupted him.
"Still no sign of the Marauder, quineg? I don't want it causing trouble for us."
"Negative. I did find receipts for sold parts and a request form for a new BattleMech. They must have scrapped it."
Raanan considered. If he were in the same position, would he let his planet be guarded by only one BattleMech for any period of time? Even if a replacement garrison was due in one month's period. Probably not. But Governor Lincoln had never struck him as a strategic genius. The surat probably knew as much about BattleMechs as Raanan did about ballet.
The sound of the office door slamming open made the men look up from their documents. One of the young astechs from the Dragoon's Leopard-class dropship stood panting in the doorway.
"Sir..."
Raanan looked up, "Yes, Private?"
"A mob has formed at the entrance of the starport. They are advancing on the merchant dropship and Sergeant Melton requests orders." Melton was assigned to guard the dropship in his Crusader.
A sigh escaped Raanan's lips. "I should have expected this. Tell him to fire a warning shot. If they still approach, he is free to act as he chooses." The tech was shocked to hear his commander's words. He was one of those recruited from the Inner Sphere. No matter.
Xxxxx
MechWarrior Melton positioned his mech directly in front of the dropship's loading ramp. He could see the gathering of angered souls about half a klick out. He let out a volley of laser fire into the ferro-crete before the mob. They stopped in their tracks. The grin on Melton's face soon disappeared as the mob pushed forward once again. He wondered what it was that strengthened their resolve. Perhaps unbridled anger, perhaps something more complex. It did not matter, as he had enough firepower to turn them into pudding.
This time, he carefully aimed his mech's medium lasers. More than half the crowd was killed by the single attack. Some bodies simply ceased to be after being struck by the green light. Others were scorched beyond recognition. Several were halfway between the two states.