Wolf of the Reach

by Ender Mahe

Rewrite of Aurigan Reach campaign but with more canon-friendly forces, more rational decisions from Espinosa and Kamea, and motivations for the Houses supporting the Restoration effort are... mixed, at best. More emphasis on what's happening just outside the Periphery and how those political moves influence the Restoration and the Reach at large.

9. Opening Shot

Chapter 8: Opening Shot

May 22, 3025

Bellifant, 2nd moon of Lyreton

Porstmouth – Capital City

High above in the bright blue sky was Lyreton, a massive gas giant that dominated the system, orbited by numerous moons captured by the stupendous gravity well. Three of those moons, including this one, were occupied with endlessly bickering locals. The Magistracy wouldn't let them detach until the Argo was well out of sensor range, then they were left to their own devices with a stripped-down Centurion and over a million C-Bills. They'd set off for this, the closest occupied moon, and Donavan had ordered some desperately needed shore leave.

That was what he was supposed to be enjoying right now. He sat at a small white-painted bar right on the beach, short dark hair still wet from his swim, sipping on a drink and tapping through data screens on a laptop looking through pilot applications. Most 'Mech Warriors, like Donavan, owned their own BattleMech at least quasi-legally, and commanded a hefty salary used to maintain it. But then, down at the bottom of the page, were the desperate—the dispossessed. 'Mech Warriors who had lost their 'Mechs one way or another.

With the new Centurion, and especially at the rate of injuries they were taking, they could use another pilot, but even with their new cash, the best they could likely afford was a dispossessed. He frowned at the screen and set aside his drink.

Aaron Brislbeth, a very down-on-her-luck Capellan noble. A bad combination, that—the Capellan nobility's sense of superiority combined with desperation. Pass.

Elise Rain, ex-Aurigan soldier, shot her way out of the coup but lost her 'Mech in the process. Labeled a deserter by the Directorate. Not especially experienced, but a clean record otherwise. If he had to guess, she probably hadn't been hired to avoid pissing off the neighbors. Hmm… qualified in both light and medium 'Mechs, though actual piloting experience limited to the Stinger, the Wasp, and (briefly) the Chameleon, the classic training 'Mech.

She sounded perfect. No matter what he did, the Directorate wouldn't like him—even more so now that he knew that they knew that Lady Arano was still alive, so her being on their shit list just drove down the hire price as far as he was concerned. Still, he'd look through all the options, then probably sleep on it, before making any decisions.

The wooden slats creaked, and Donavan looked up to see Darius, who took two steps over and settled down on the neighboring chair. Unlike his Commander, the O was in his normal attire of 'Mech jockey jacket over blue crew-necked shirt with dark pants. His lone concession to the tropical climate's sweltering humidity was a pair of loose sandals on his feet.

"Darius, look at you, you're going positively native on me." He eyed the sandals.

Darius kept his expression completely straight. "Sorry, Commander. I'll try to live up to your standards of constant professionalism." He didn't even glance at Donavan's swim trunks.

Donavan snorted. "Touché. So what brings you to me instead of enjoying the surf and local, ah, companionship opportunities?"

The man shrugged. "One payday doesn't mean we're out of the woods yet, though it's a lot better first step than I could've hoped for."

"True enough. What have you got for me?"

"I think you'll like it. The locals are locked in a three-way power struggle, but with their common Capellan ties they don't much like outsiders, and they really don't like outsiders that poke their noses in, and it seems that's what the Directorate is doing. From what I hear, they've been throwing some money around and making some aggressive patrols with 'Mech lances. The powers that be here on Bellifant are sick of it and they want to send a message that they're not welcome here."

Donavan tapped absently on the counter, thinking. "And how do they want this message delivered?"

"Well, given how strong-arm the Directorate's been I think they want to avoid a direct confrontation, hence the contract. They know where the Aurigans are going to patrol—and we jump them."

"How exactly does that send a message? That sounds more like a mugging than a political point."

Darius smiled. "That's the beauty of it. They're 'patrolling' right through the local defense network."

"So when we stride through to engage and they just stan around watching, they'll show how they feel without lifting a finger." The Commander considered it for a long moment. It sounded about right—the Capellans were an Inner Sphere power, strong enough to stomp on the Magistracy of Canopus, much less the Aurigan Directorate, but they were also the smallest of the Inner Sphere powers and they'd taken some major defeats in straight-up fights, which turned the autocratic state the art of subterfuge. Now, Lyreton wasn't officially in the Confederation, but their influence was widely felt this close to their borders, enough that they might be willing to thumb their nose at the Directorate this way.

"Okay, that's got some potential. Anything else?"

Darius shrugged. "Nothing in the same pay scale. There was a small raid to torch some buildings, uh, escort duty for a military parade, and a two-week stint filling in for a short-handed garrison running training exercises, and then—"

"Now that sounds interesting. Darius, it's a great opportunity you found with that run at the Directorate, and a great way to make a name for ourselves, but it's my job to think about our pilots and the state of our 'Mechs, and we got the crap kicked out of us on that last mission. Yang's just got his hands on some parts down here and we're a ways from being back to one hundred percent, not to mention arming the Centurion and finding someone to fight her. Plus, this would be a great chance to have a shakedown assignment with whatever new pilot we pick up. And who knows, maybe the job will still be open when we've gotten ourselves back together again."

Darius grimaced, then nodded. "I get it, Commander. I was there when the Marauders didn't get a chance to rebuild on Coromodir, I know what happens when you get pushed too far. So, you have a new pilot in mind?"

May 22, 3025

Bellifant, 2nd moon of Lyreton

Porstmouth – Capital City

Donavan broke the news in the team's hotel room they'd converted into their temporary HQ, and nobody walked out, so that was a good start. "So, that's what we're going to be doing for the next two weeks while the 'Mechs get put back together again. This will be a good opportunity to work with our newest pilot, Elise Rain. Go ahead and introduce yourself, Elise."

The team turned as one to look at a pale-skinned woman in her mid-thirties, whose green eyes stared back at them expressionlessly. After a moment she spoke up, her voice dour. "I'm Elise Rain, callsign Sunshine. Don't ask."

She didn't seem to want to offer anything else, so Donavan jumped back in. "Elise was run out of the Reach during the coup, like the rest of us. She'll be piloting the Centurion for us during this two-week stint, and if things go well, she'll be staying on with us long-term. Our assignment starts tomorrow morning, so report to the Leopard at 0900 local time."

The meeting broke up with some grumbling, but nobody was talking out about it, at least not yet. He eyed his pilots carefully. Glitch looked as upbeat as ever and considerably tanner than usual as she took advantage of the sun. Lyreton hosted some fine medical institutions, but Dekker was already through the hard part, so he remained confined Leopard, though he went out for closely supervised walks, so he was absent. Medusa looked bored, if anything, but Behemoth looked upset, even angry, though she didn't say a word as she walked out.

Problems, problems.

…

"Alright lance, this is going to be a straightforward exercise as our first over the next two weeks. No special tactics or strategy, just run straight at them, pick your target, and let them have it. Got it?"

"Behemoth, copy." Her voice was surly from her hangover. If he'd somehow missed it, the call he got at an unholy hour this morning from Darius picking her up from the local drunk tank after beating four local thugs senseless in a bar fight would have confirmed it.

"Glitch, copy."

"Sunshine, copy."

Donavan couldn't help but glance over at their refurbished Centurion CN9-A and its pilot. Her voice was a little tense, back in the cockpit for the first time since the nightmarish chaos of the coup. That wasn't all of it though—he was beginning to suspect that her dour outlook was more or less permanent. Combine that with her surname and the irony was too much for former lancemates to resist.

The 'Mech itself was still a work in progress. The core frame was there, but Yang was still in the process of fitting armor ad settling on a weapons mix. It was hard to change them moving forward, so when you had a chance to consider a loadout while one was already stripped down like this, it was best to take advantage of it. Well, there was only one way to see how she'd do.

"Lance, Wolf. Engage."

June 4, 3025

Bellifant, 2nd moon of Lyreton

Training Grounds outside Porstmouth – Capital City

"Left, left!"

The warning lights of incoming missiles glared, and Donavan tapped the jumpjets to hop to the side when his display went grey, indicating he'd been destroyed. Despite his recent death Donavan carefully guided the Blackjack down in a 'soft' landing that still rattled his bones, bring the 'Mech to a halt. Once he was safely stationary he turned his attention back to the HUD. The local crack forces had proved easy pickings at first, as no military force, however well trained, could match the experience of mercenaries. But over the past week and a half the Bellifant people had improved rapidly, making effective use of their greater experience together and corresponding better coordination.

Still, he had a trick or two left up his sleeve, and he smiled as the two medium 'Mechs that had turned to burn him down were lit up by Elise Rain, who blasted at their exposed backs with her simulated loadout of AC/10 and twin SRM4's.

Yes, just as he'd thought. The military's strength was is organization and they correspondingly placed a lot of emphasis on disrupting command and control, and they'd bit on his dangling the chance to take out the opposing commander, but at the cost of two of their own. Behemoth closed in, simulated weapons blazing, and Donavan smiled. Yes, the lance was definitely starting to come together.

…

Donavan was back in the hotel when Miranda strode in, and he could immediately tell that the imposing woman had had enough. She marched straight up to him, ignoring the surrounding people, and got right in his face. "Dammit Wolf, what the hell are we doing? I'm a 'Mech Warrior, not a bloody training partner. What is this?"

The Commander stood his ground, breathing in the scent of alcohol on her breath. Jessica looked between the two of them, concerned, while Elise slowly moved back to the edge of the room. Mohammed looked up from a movie on his tablet, shrugged, then continued watching.

"You know exactly what we're doing, Behemoth. We're earning easy money and getting a feel for our new lance while our 'Mechs are getting fixed. Once they're ready we're right back in it."

Miranda didn't respond, instead just staring at him unsteadily, enormous arms flexing.

"Behemoth, Miranda, you know me. We've fought together for a few years now. I know you're frustrated with all this hand-holding, but stick with me for a couple more days and we'll be on to the next job."

A long moment later Miranda snorted and nodded choppily. "I guess you've earned that much, Wolf. But when this is done, we'd better see some more action. All this sitting around is burning cash." She turned and marched away, and Donavan allowed himself to breathe again.

It was a good reminder that it took a certain type of personality to make it as a 'Mech Warrior But there was that second, easy-to-forget element; Behemoth was effectively a not-so-small business owner with one asset that had a voracious appetite for overhead. So yes, Behemoth loved the fight, loved the feeling of being elite, something between the cocksure attitude of an ancient fighter pilot with the responsibility that came with the firepower of a whole division at her fingertips, but she literally couldn't afford to stay out of the fight for very long.

Miranda tore the door open to expose a startled Darius, hand extended to the doorknob. Miranda shouldered her way past him and stomped down the hall towards the lobby's bar. Darius glanced back and forth between the two of them. "Problem?"

Donavan shook his head. "Don't worry about it. What've you got?"

"Good news. That ambush on the Directorate job is still open, and even better, they've bumped up the offering price. None of the smaller local outfits are willing to stick their necks out, so that's a break for us."

"Good, I know you've been itching to take it. We've got two more days on this job, and Yang's promised everything but the Spider will be ready to go by then, so go ahead and give them the word that we're in. The Wolves are back in business."

June 7, 3025

Bellifant, 2nd moon of Lyreton

Deep Jungle outside Porstmouth – Capital City

Wolf took a slow breath, hands easing on the well-worn rubber-gripped controls of the Blackjack. Th e weapon racks were once again loaded with live ammunition, and he decided that the Blackjack felt different than it had the past two weeks. It felt better.
Outside the canopy wasn't the defensive perimeter around Portsmouth, Bellifant's capital city, but rather dense jungle. Despite the quiet assurances of the government. It made sense that the locals wanted to have mercenaries send their message for them, but if the Directorate decided they were prepared to force the issue with Bellifant, a small mercenary company from out of town, as it were, made for an excellent fall guy to pin all the blame. So he would take on the Directorate, but not with Bellifant guns at his back. If that made their political message a little less pointed, well, that was their problem.

His HUD blinked with an incoming signal.

"Dial in, lance, Sumire has picked up the Directorate lance."

"Behemoth copies," she replied eagerly.

"Glitch copies," as upbeat as always.

"Sunshine copies." The newest pilot's voice was as dour as ever, but she sounded a little more confident and comfortable after the last two weeks of exercises. Going into combat with someone new was always worrying, but at least she had a feel for the lance now.

Wolf keyed in the startup sequence, spinning the engine up to full power and sending small forest creatures running for cover, then forced himself to relax and settle deeper into the command chair. It was going to be a while yet, and he reached out to touch the weapons belt strung over the back of his chair, running his fingers over the steel grip of the Ceres Arms Slasher Combat Knife, exported by the Capellan Confederation. Ceres Arms knew their way around a knife, that was for sure, though it was a little bizarre that the same company had built Glitch's Vindicator. And on the other side of the belt was a Rugan K12 submachine gun for personal defense, with three clips strapped to the belt itself. Now that he was going back into combat, the weapons came with him—he never wanted to find himself alone and unarmed.

Sumire was cruising along in low orbit, keeping an eye out for them, and her sensor readings pinged onto his plot, identifying the opposing lance as two Locusts, a Phoenix Hawk, and a Merlin. He considered the lance carefully. Locusts were one of the most common 'Mechs around thanks to the sheer number of them that had been manufactured, combined with the fact that the single biggest advantage in both firepower and cost for a 'Mech was the difference between having a light 'Mech and having to go it with just tanks and infantry. The Phoenix Hawk was almost as common, at heart a Stinger upgraded by swapping out the GM 120 engine for a GM 270 and throwing on another medium and large laser. Their niche was as a fast medium 'Mech leading reconnaissance squads.

The biggest concern as that Marlin, and it was worrying enough that he seriously considered keeping the lance there, powered down, and letting them walk right on by. The sixty-ton heavy 'Mech was a technological marvel, as far as he knew the only new 'Mech design in something like a century. From a practical standpoint, it was a Vindicator on steroids, keeping the PPC, medium laser, and LRM-5 and adding a second laser, a flamer, and a machine gun.

Still… against other 'Mechs the Locusts were extremely fragile, and with the Merlin's primary weapon system being a PPC it was intimidating as hell for fixed defenses, which probably explained why the Directorate deployed it here, but it was also lacking in close range firepower. If they could get right on top of them… and taking out a lance of Directorate 'Mechs, including one of their brand-new ones, it would do wonders for their reputation.

His leg started bouncing without him realizing it as he stewed over it. 'Mechs were best at, and mostly used for, rapid attacks and raids on fixed or very specific targets, blasting their way through tanks and other more typical military forces before falling back, but what really captured the imagination, and led to the broadcast of Solaris VII BattleMech fights across the entire Inner Sphere and beyond, was the prospect of 'Mech on 'Mech fights, where the skill of each pilot and their knowledge of their weapon systems determined the victor.

As he thought he watched their progress on the plot, and they were looking to pass within three hundred yards of them along the primary road towards the Portsmouth, just as they'd hoped, and that sealed it. At that range there was a fair chance they'd be picked up by the BattleMech's systems and they'd be forced to fight it out anyways, only without the element of surprise. And after all, they weren't in this business to avoid taking risks.

"Lance, Wolf. On my mark put everything you've got into the Merlin until its down, then go for the Phoenix."

The Directorate lance was moving at a steady rate, thankfully, so as Sumire slipped out of range he could still keep rough track of them. They should be at their closest point right… about… now.

"Execute!"

The lance tapped on the jets to help clear the low embankment, sending up a vaporized cloud of water behind them. The entire lance alpha-striked on the Merlin which disappeared behind a screen of fire and smoke, but not before he saw it toppling over sideways, overwhelmed by the raw impact of that many autocannons and SRMs at once, and his HUD showed devastating damage across its armor.

"Leave it! Clean sweep, don't let the Locusts run!"

The raw shock of surprise kept the Directorate lance moving in more or less a straight line, but that was changing quickly, and scattered fire was coming back in from the Locusts, but the Phoenix Hawk panicked slammed on the jumpjets, launching it skywards and leaving its land-bound compatriots to fend for themselves.

"Behemoth, Sunshine, finish the Locusts, Medusa you're with me on the Phoenix." He eased onto the throttle, bringing the Blackjack up to full speed in a running pursuit. Medusa in his Locust followed suit but reigned in the speed to stay with Wolf. Aggressive he might be, but going up against an untouched medium 'Mech alone in a Locust was a little much, even for him.

Wolf calculated quickly. That long burn jump from the Phoenix cost the Directorate pilot the heat advantage, and he was outnumbered, but Medusa had only the single laser worth mentioning and Donavan's AC/2's weren't really suited to this close-range of fighting, making it five lasers on his three, but one of his was a large laser which could hurt like hell, but like his AC/2's, was better suited to long range.

Ahead of them the Phoenix Hawk landed, and to the pilot's credit, he'd recovered from his surprise and was turning to bring his weapons to bear. Unfortunately for him, the smart thing to do would be to keep right on running and save his 'Mech for the Directorate.

"Medusa, stay on his flank, you know the drill."

"No sweat, Wolf."

The gutsy Aurigan native showed no compunction at all fighting against his former countrymen and sprinted ahead, unleashing his full speed and the darting around to the side, trampling underbrush as he went.

Wolf opened up with his lasers, linked two and two once more, to keep up fire and keep the Phoenix from trying to turn and crush the Locust. His fire raked furrows into the BattleMech, but then two lasers fired back, one impacting dead center on his torso, while the second went wide, and the eye-searing bright blue of a heavy laser actually passed between his arm and torso, caring a hundred meter line of devastation through the rainforest and leaving a plume of superheated air in its wake.

Wolf returned fire with his other pair of lasers, and saw Medusa's single laser lash out from the other side, scoring a hit on the Phoenix's thinner back armor. He kept moving, keeping up the pressure but erring on the side of speed over accurate shooting while Medusa plinked away at him. After only a minute or so the enemy had apparently proven his own courage to himself and determined that discretion was the better part of valor, turning to make a run for it. Unfortunately, that exposed his already shredded back armor, and Wolf slammed to a halt, pushing his gyros to the limit to keep him balanced, and opened up in the dream shot, a full alpha-strike to the back. His heat levels shot past critical in the roiling tropical heat, shutting down all his weapons, but the effect was devastating. His fire slashed through the ruined armor and deep into the underlying structure, frying systems and severing at least one core myomer muscle set, as the right leg instantly seized up.

Already getting up to speed, the 'Mech tripped, pitching forward, and its head erupted in flames as the pilot ejected from his doomed 'Mech. The Phoenix Hawk plowed into the dirt, shredding trees and leaving a dozen-meter long trench.

"Medusa, track down that pilot. I'll help the others."

"Yo," he replied and sent his Locust scurrying after the slowly descending ejector seat. Wolf turned back to the HUD, but Sunshine and Behemoth had both gunned down the Locusts, and Wolf allowed himself a grin. A clean sweep!"