BOOK III

CHAPTER 1

Pummelo, Outworlds Alliance,
August 4, 3074

An Ostroc was never intended for recon duty. It was an urban combatant, boasting good armor, medium-to-long range firepower, and good speed. But the design was so successful during wars of attrition, its use trickled down to many roles, ranging from long-ranged raider to guerilla weapon. And now Mogami found herself doing recon in one.

The Ostroc was not a bad reconnaissance platform. Its narrow profile made it difficult to detect. The pod style feet provided a stable platform, suitable for shooting while moving (and battlemechs rarely fought standing still). Its respectable speed and ammo-free weapons enabled it to cover a lot of ground, and although it was not as fast as typical recon mechs these days, its twin ER Large Lasers would make any pursuer think twice about running down this bruiser.

The Langmore – Navarro border stretched several hundred miles, an all-day job to cover for a fast lance. When she was still in her Sentinel, she could finish the recon within 7 to 8 hours. Now she had to settle for 10 hours minimum. But the rush of conviction, with long-ranged-hard-hitting weapons under her command, made up for the tedium of extended duties. Long patrol did not feel like a drag anymore.

"How do you like the new mech, Sarge?" Alex called in from her Clint.

"Alright," Mogami replied halfheartedly. "Don't see the advantage of this Ostroc over the old Sentinel yet, although I like the stability and the armor protection of the heavier mech."

"It would be nice if we had something to shoot at, so we know what it is capable of," Alex continued.

"It will come," Mogami toggled her radar, switching back and forth from long-range to short-range. "The Navarro family is bringing in the Redfield Renegades. They are supposed to be here any day."

"Is this information reliable?" Alex mused.

"I don't know," Mogami sighed. "Austin Merriam gave me the information. He had been a good friend, but he made it clear that his allegiance was to his family. And his family had interest in this world as much as anybody else. So why give me an advantage?" She slowed down her mech and looked far at the horizon. "That, and leaving me in the dust during the Kuritan conflict started to make me doubt him."

"So what's your plan, Sarge?"

"Trust no one," Mogami paced her mech back up. "Believe in what you see. Let's finish this run so we can go home."

The two mechs continued their course patrolling the border, going through rolling hills and plaid valleys, sweeping the area for hostile units. But aside from scattered settlers, farmers, and random outposts, there were no signs of large concentration of mobilized army. Mogami added additional way points on top of her intended course, but the result remained the same. The Redfield Renegades, a mercenary unit allegedly hired to bolster the defense of Navarro family (and possibly to sweep the remaining Kuritan and Davion loyalists), remained elusive.

But it would soon change.

"Contact!" Alex reported. "Battlemechs, bearing 055 – 278, two Osiris, a Raven, and a Garm!"

"Passive sensor! Radio silence! Hand signal only!" She immediately stopped her mech and made hand gesture to Alex to follow her movement. She zoomed in on his screen, and the distorted images of a striker lance jumped into her eyes. They were hunter-killers. They were not there to scout or patrol. They were there to kill scouts or raiders.

Go weapons hot! Mogami told Alex through hand signals. The Clint raised its Plasma-laden arm. Mogami readied her twin ER Large Laser and tried to find a firing solution, but maintained passive sensors. Her lasers could carve deep gorges on the presumably hostile units before the Garm – the longest ranged mech on the other lance – would reach her. But those Osiris's were fast. If they could slip past Alex's and Mogami's defense, they could deal a lot of damage. Alex's Plasma Rifle was only effective at 450 meters, so even though it was highly destructive, it wouldn't be too useful before the Osiris fell into range.

The striker lance maintained position for about 10 minutes, then moved toward the other direction. Mogami waited until the mechs disappeared from her screen, then inched forward slowly. Her heart beating on her ears, and sweat ran down her cheeks, even though her mech hadn't fired a single round. Her arms slightly trembled from nervous anticipation. She could be walking into a trap. But she wanted to find the bulk of their army. If they were mobilizing troops, she wanted to know what kind and how many. Knowledge was winning half of the battle.

Ten minutes felt like an eternity, and when she couldn't see any other war machine in the vicinity, Mogami decided she had enough. She didn't want to risk themselves walking into an ambush. mmmmmmmShe made sure that the images and their coordinates were recorded in her battleROM, then turned around and ran home full speed.

"What was that?" Alex blurted as soon as she established comlink. "Redfield Renegades?"

"Possibly," Mogami replied. "I got a good visual recording of their battlemechs. Let's get back and analyze these images. Hopefully we can make out their camo. But in any case, looks like the Navarro is out looking for blood. It's time to sharpen our blades and calibrate our targeting systems. We might need them sooner than we thought."

The sight of the Kuritan prisoner tuned up the guilt meter in Neptune's heart a strip every day. Her arms were chained high above her head. Her legs were restrained at the ankles, and the bottom of her feet were exposed. Her soles were reddish pink from the constant abuse inflicted upon them. Her cheeks sunk into her face, and her dank hair sprawled covering half of her face. Her breaths came in whimpers, and her chest laboriously heaved up and down to pump air into her lung, which made hard by the position of her arms. Her cooling vest was the only thing covering her torso, and the weight of the vest made her even harder to breathe.

But it was her eyes that churned Neptune's stomach. They were mostly closed, but once or twice she found the willpower to throw a nasty glance at Neptune. And they looked like two spears piercing his chest. They confronted him with his betrayal, one in which he promised her freedom but never did it.

Neptune went in, but the lance commander of Pursuit Lance drew his sidearm.

"How much Commander Korra pays you for this?" Neptune spat. "You don't have to do this."

"Yerr 'ight, but Commander Korra want this way," the lance commander grinned. He was Neptune's commanding officer when he first joined the Lexington Legends. He was a man of rather small stature, with his normal-sized head seemingly too large for his body. His receding hair line was compensated by a shoulder-length mullet. His facial hair was unkempt, and his teeth were turning dark from the amount of tobacco he consumed.

From the first day he worked with the lance commander, Neptune didn't like him. He was everything Mogami said about mercenaries. He was a man of little decency. Neptune remembered vividly how the sneaky bastard took the place of Lance Commander Drew – then the CO of the Support Lance – while he was defending the dropship from Liao aerospace fighters. His act made Neptune embarrassed to call himself 'mercenary'.

"Let her go!" Neptune growled.

"Not without Commander Korra's order," the lance commander growled back. He raised his pistol and shoved the barrel onto Neptune's chin. "Talk to her, or talk to my leettle friend!"

"Sooner or later you will make a mistake, one that Commander Korra can't correct," Neptune hissed. "I will cherish that day for the rest of my life!"

"Is that a threat, sonny boy?" the lance commander shifted the barrel of the gun to Neptune's forehead. "Do yerr think yerr tough? Do yerr think yerr the big honcho, leading the Support Lance like that? Yerr just steal Lance Commander Drew's mech, and Lance Commander Drew's position! Yerr nothing but a thief!"

Neptune cocked his arm to punch the little bastard, but he decided it was not worth the effort. "Look who's talking!" he snarled. "You call me thief? You're the one stealing Lance Commander Drew's spot on the dropship while he was defending it!"

"Yet I'm alive, don't I? Yerr stole his battlemech! The Jagermech is not yerr's! It's Drew's!"

"I know Korra is fond of your tantrum, but there comes a day when she won't tolerate it anymore!" Neptune backpedaled. "Then she'll do to you what she did to Drew!"

"Yerr asshole! Yerr bastard!" the lance commander screamed from the top of his lung, but Neptune just walked out. He caught a glimpse of the prisoner, and noticed that she was looking at him. Her stare was that of esteem and gratitude, but the trust was not there anymore.

Neptune didn't waste time finding Commander Korra. She was just finishing up a briefing with Major Fernandes, their employer. Neptune would spill everything out in front of Major Fernandes, but Korra already cut of the comlink.

"Commander, we have to discuss the state of the prisoner," Neptune stated. "There is no point of holding her here anymore. Please release her."

"She still holds value for the Lexington Legends," Korra replied halfheartedly. "One, the Kuritans will not attack us as long as we have her. Two, she holds information that we want."

"The Kuritans do not attack us because they do not have any more resources! The Yakuza has left the planet, leaving the loyalists but a shell of their old military might. And they knew where she was kept. They attacked anyway. They had no regard of her anymore! And she didn't know any more information than what she already gave us! There was no point of keeping her. Just let her go."

"And what would happen if we let her go?" Korra sneered. "She would go back to their ranks, hop on any battlemech she could find, and return to our stronghold guns blazing! And what would you do if she kills one of your lance mates? His blood is on you! I know Kuritans, I have been fighting them a long time. They will not stop until they, or we, are dead!"

"Then at least stop her torture!" Neptune grimaced. "There is no reason to continue anymore. She told us everything she knew."

"Then where is this Brian's Cache she mentioned? The eyes of the Inner Sphere are on this planet, but nobody can find it!" Korra bared her teeth. "And you still believe that she has told you everything she knew?"

"What's the reason for her to endure torture if she doesn't have anything to defend? She doesn't have allegiance! Her allegiance abandoned her!"

"Maybe that's what she wants you to believe."

"Commander, the war with the Redfield Renegades is upon us! We could use Kuritan resources, but with her in this shape, the Kuritans would not help us!"

"We are fine without the Kuritans! We beat them and we'll beat the Redfield Renegades just like we beat the Kuritans!"

Neptune didn't know what else to say. "Then stop for the sake of humanity. Have compassion, Commander."

Korra looked at Neptune with a derogatory smile on her face. "Compassion? In an impending war?"

"Commander this is a disgrace!" Neptune snarled.

"I have enough of your shit, Neptune!" Korra growled. "You did great work for the Lexington Legends, but don't think it gives you privilege to talk to me like that! We're here alone, all by ourselves! No Davion support, no alliance with locals! Nothing! The only way to survive is to be ready to pull the trigger at everybody else! Yes, that includes the Davions! So don't get too cozy between a pair of boobs, because when you're realize there's a whole in your back, it's too late!"

Neptune could see Korra's meaning, but he didn't agree with her approach. Yet it didn't matter because he didn't have a choice. Korra was his CO, and he was not in the position to defy the chain of command, especially in the advent of a powerful enemy. He had to set his mind on the coming battles with the Redfield Renegades, and forget about the Kuritan prisoner.

"Ma'am," he snapped a salute, then left the command center. Perhaps inspecting his mech and recalibrating his sensors would take his mind away from the guilt.