Chapter 19

May 9th, 3025

Parliament Hall

Mach 'Beh

Alshayra continent

Suk II

Orsula Alvarez strolled down the hall leading to the Ministry of Safekeeping's conference room, taking in the shy attempts at side glances as the people to the right walked by. She could easily shoot them a side glance of her own but decided to keep things dignified and let them gawk. Her garments today were slightly less flattering, but no less impressive to the masses. Her toga was rather loose compared to the dresses she preferred, and lacked the grandiose train normally trailing behind her, but she wore it well, giving just the slightest glimpse of the top of her cleavage and a peak at the lower halves of her smooth, toned calves. Other accessories were modest, as a stateswoman ought to be, but the power she commanded over the people who walked by was nearly absolute simply by her title, reputation, and rather intimidating beauty.

She was dressed for work, and her work involved keeping relations between the Militia, the people, and the government stable, lest parliament lose control over such a vast number of people mainly focused on a single landmass. General order and security were the order of the day, and she was about to address some of those concerns very publicly. A few select journalists and their crews were invited to cram themselves into the room with a very large polished hickory table, lots of chairs and microphones, and…not much else.

The seal of Suk II's government, a monument with a tree wrapped around it and a pair of LTV-4 hover tanks facing at an oblique angle towards the viewer, all on the background of a green circle representing the planet was the only wall decoration anywhere in the room. The person who sat in front of that large symbol would be Orsula, the current head of the Ministry of Safekeeping.

As she entered the room with her aide behind her, everyone remained seated per the usual custom, but all the cameras turned to her. Everyone else, except for one other person and their aide, had already taken their places in the now-cramped room with so much media present. Various experts and staff for Orsula and the last person to arrive for this much-anticipated showdown were all sitting across from each other, forming a very-obvious two-sides of the debate about to ensue.

But it'll be on my turf, Orsula thought to herself. She smiled, mainly directed at the people in the room and no one in particular, but also to half cover up the excitement at meeting her political rival for the first time since the election. The election she lost, months ago.

Everyone greeted her once she was seated, and as she was passing around hellos and nods and some waves to people she couldn't reach for a handshake, the room went quiet as Sharon Huyck, the Prime Minister of Suk II walked in. The highest-ranking official on the entire planet, she was dubbed "The Grandmother of Alshayra" for her work on this continent specifically for the last twenty-two years.

Old enough to be her mother, she lacked the natural beauty Orsula's Puerto Rican heritage lent her. Her hair was white, her frame slightly hunched and frail-looking, and the lines in her face were far deeper than Orsula's, but the unseen aura of authority and comfort she radiated throughout the room would have blown up a thermal scanner.

Everyone feels more at ease with her in the room, except me. Orsula smiled her flawless Grade-A I'm at your service smile as Huyck sat down and the cameras went from Huyck to an even framing of the two of them sitting across from each other. It's on, bitch.

"Thank you for coming, Prime Minister. We haven't seen each other so close since January," she said, conveniently not mentioning the election day she came so close to winning on. "All settled in, I hope? There's a lot going on the surface of our great planet, like so many locusts in little swarms all around trying to take what's ours."

The most microscopic wince immediately buried under a warm grin. One to nothing. I'm not pulling any punches today, Sharon. Are you?

"Yes, it's safe to say everyone's got themselves established, so let's get right down to it. The purpose of this meeting is to also inform the public, which is why we've invited all the media to this conference today. I want them to know we've got the situation under control. First, a little disclaimer." The 'grandmother' turned to face the cameras head-on. "Yes, we lost almost 1,600 people during these surprise raids. Every single person's life lost is a tragedy, and we will address that, but the point of this meeting is to address future concerns. The past, however recent, will be taken care of as soon as we're able to do it properly." She calmly and meticulously turned back to Orsula, giving that statement time to sink in. "So, Ms. Alvarez, let the people hear what you've got."

Throw the ball back to me to show you're a team player, but not before getting a jab in, and letting everyone know you're clearly in charge here. One to one. "First and foremost, everyone still has plenty of water to drink. The raids on the plants a few weeks ago, which has been dubbed 'The Langley Affair' by the people, has destroyed five large treatment plants and two smaller ones. The smaller ones were located directly in the city meant to service some of the hot springs this city was built around. The five larger ones handled water flow to industrial hubs in and around the capitol but were actually located far outside it, typically near the western mountains.

"Water lines between the plants were completely untouched. A few months and the plants themselves will be fully restored or fully rebuilt elsewhere. We've already finished contracts with multiple companies overseeing repair and replacement, and new safeguards to protect the more volatile chemicals used in the treatment process will be added as well. Things like additional barriers to absorb explosion, more fire protection redundancy, that sort of thing. Also, Prime Minister, I move that the two plants near the center of town that were hit be bulldozed and memorial parks for the fallen take their place, never to be built over again."

"Very good, consider it done." Huyck said, maneuvering the conversation in a way that didn't let Orsula run away with the topic. "What about the remaining plants? What have we done to increase security at those sites?"

"The RoughRiders, our main mercenary contract and the most heavily-armed forces on the planet have shifted their garrison forces with an absolute top priority of protecting the plants. Protecting them was already their intention from the beginning of these pirate insurgencies, though given the nature of how they landed on-planet, the RoughRiders had to cover a lot of different areas to figure out which landing sites were decoys, and which ones were real. Now they have a far better idea what they're up against, and have adjusted accordingly."

Orsula turned to the most camera-heavy side of the table again. "Obviously neither I nor the Prime Minister can give these kinds of details out publicly. But I want you to know that our remaining water plants are safe. The tools used to accomplish the first raid across the planet are no longer going to work. We're on to them. And the RoughRiders, with our Militia, are on guard."

"So, we've pulled forces from our mining districts in order to accommodate the treatment plants. Fair, but this planet still needs its industry, with or without insurgents crawling around. I also hear we've lost a few of our own to these particular forces. What's changed since the RoughRiders have moved their assets to protect the treatment plants?"

Swing and a miss, Huyck. Trying to put the loss of a few Militia on my shoulders. "You'll be happy to hear that not all the insurgents were happy about the plant raids, which were carried out without their knowledge. One such unit is working for us now, and has already done some serious damage to the insurgents in the area around Triple-M's district." Orsula motioned to Orlianne, sitting at her left, and he handed a picture contained on a data pad to her. With a confident swipe of her finger, the picture of the headless Dervish displayed above the table between the two women, rotating the beheaded 'mech for all to see.

"This 'mech used to be piloted by someone belonging to 'Jawbone's Jester's.' Part of a larger unit, this 'mech was disabled along with a larger one while two others more powerful than this one were captured in a brilliant trap laid out by our newest hire under the Militia's wing, known as the 1st Iron Coyotes. They used 'mechs typically about half the size of these enemy 'mechs to trap them, but it was our own 3rd Cavalry Company as well as our own Captain Sokolov and his Militia dropship, the S.M. Prometheus, that laid this 'mech to waste just a few days ago.

"It's worth mentioning that while the trap was laid out by the Coyotes, half or better of the friendly forces in that fight belonged to the Militia. While it was their idea, this Dervish you see before you was eliminated in a single volley from four of the LTV hover tanks you see on our Planetary seal. Our own men and women brought this one down, and were largely responsible for the damage to his bigger brother, who decided to go out in a blaze of glory."

A second later, and the entire room either gasped, whooped, or clapped at the image now displaying the destroyed Orion side-by-side with the headless Dervish. The Orion also had little of its head, but mainly due to the ejection and subsequent execution in mid-air of its pilot. Normally a tall, boxy, angular design with two tube arms with various weapons, as well as plenty of its weapons in the shoulders, this particular Orion had neither arm fully intact, and the legs and torso resembled something more like an apple that was eaten to its core in most places. Jagged, shredded metal hung from every opening. Somehow the ammunition hadn't exploded, but had nonetheless looked like it was gutted from every side possible.

Whoever gave the image to Alvarez also added some random spark effects where obvious electrical conduits hung along with pieces of its innards, for dramatic effect.

"Needless to say, both insurgent pilots are KIA, and the other two were captured by the Coyotes and our own 3rd Cavalry." A slow clap started ensuing throughout the media crew and some staff on both sides, and Huyck let it roll on for a few moments. Alvarez simply sat back and crossed her arms, as if to imply yep, I'm responsible for all that. I'll leave out the part where they got ransomed back to their unit.

"Well done to all our military who participated in this. From the person who fired the first killing blow to this 'mech," the grandmother said, pointing at the Dervish, "to the men and women who kept our tanks in working order, to the ones who fed them chow that morning. They were all a part of this accomplishment. Which one did we get as part of our salvage agreement?"

"The bigger one, Prime Minister." Orsula nodded at the Orion. Technically it was bigger, but what remained of it weighed far less than what was left of the Dervish.

"Excellent. Perhaps we could add this to your idea of memorial parks in the city. The people can decide which one it should go in as a monument and how it should be displayed as a reminder that no wrongdoing goes unpunished on this planet." More cheers and claps from around the room. Orsula even respectfully joined in, looking solemn and respectful as opposed to Huyck's cheerful smile."

Alright, probably not gonna beat you today old woman, but I'm just getting started.

"Okay, on to the next topic. Spaceport defense…"

Firebase Yankee

Mercury Metals and Mining district

Continent of New Syria

"Wow, that's laying it on pretty thick." Lewis Mcintosh groaned and made a specific hand motion that looked like a circle with a dot in the middle. His holovid's sensors picked up on the movement as the cue to turn off the screen for him, though he'd gladly get up and do it himself if it didn't break his head doing it.

"Yeah. They gave us a good share of the credit though to be fair, and we needed them to pull it off. They need this lil' PR stunt more than we do." Emily sat next to his bed, idly wondering where she could score a hospital cot to stay the night. The ride over by VTOL had been bumpy and exhausting.

"Nice score though, boss lady. Err, Major." He was still pretty young and shy when it came to women, especially athletic and confident ones like Emily. His head injury probably wasn't helping him out that he was crushing on his C.O. who was also a lesbian. "Heard you might trade the 'Hammer over to LaPointe?

"Yeah, we got a second Treb 5-N out of it, and with the Cat we got that brings us up to over a hundred LRMs we can sling at something if the going gets rough. Needless to say, we're stocking up on those like its candy. We can afford it now. LaPointe's gonna help us get the replacement head for the Dervish so that'll put us in the black for this campaign so far. Anyway, how long did the doc say you needed?"

"He didn't sugar-coat it. Cerebral contusion. Big ol' bruise in my brain. He said anywhere from one month to a year, and to stay out of a 'mech for now unless you're moving it from one 'mech bay to another. Will I still get paid during that, Major?"

She smiled like a reassuring mother. "Of course. It's in your contract. Convalescent leave and all that. Don't rush it, or it might backfire permanently. You're only twenty-eight. You have your whole life to jump around in 'mechs like an idiot. You'd better keep crossing your fingers I don't get us all blown up before then."

"Heard they're calling me Granite now."

Emily gave a look that resembled hey, it wasn't my idea. "Personally, I would have gone with Anchor, or Stonewall, like that general in one of those civil wars back on ancient Terra before we went space cadet."

"Jackson. Stonewall Jackson. Confederate leader, American Civil War. Eighteen sixty unnnhhhhh…" Granite put his hand up to his bandaged forehead and leaned back in his pillow.

"And despite all that you kept your 'mech vertical and walked all the way to this here slice of heaven, after all that." She gestured at the medical tent around it and the spartan comforts of home it offered, like keeping you clean and dry for longer than fifteen minutes. "I'd say that's worthy of being called a piece of a dumb, hard rock that's real stubborn. Consider it a callsign." She gave his arm a little friendly jab and stood.

"I'm gonna find an open bed to rack out in before I head back tomorrow. Consider yourself on fully-paid leave. We'll get you back in a 'mech eventually, just don't rush it, hero. You've already done plenty for us."

He smiled sheepishly. Emily looked around for some sort of a safety pin and something flashy. She found the pin not too far, and took a piece of a reflective backing off of a medical electrode.

She took the pin, stuck it through the piece of glossy backing and stuck the whole thing to Mcintock's hospital gown. "We don't have any official medals or anything with regards to the unit itself, but that's no reason we can't come up with something appropriate and formalize it later. Consider yourself the first recipient of the 1st Iron Coyotes' Stonewall Ribbon. For actions showing superior piloting skill and personal resolve in the face of chaos." She thought about it a moment, pursing her lips to the side in serious deep thought. "And we'll add something about refusing to quit and other such fluff to make it look real good back home, k?"

He chuckled with her. "Thanks Major. Go get some sleep. I'll let Vi know you were looking for her. Pretty sure she's drinking with some of the double-R's right now."

"Seeya tomorrow, Granite." She turned off the lights and walked out, searching for her own piece of heaven called a bed laying around somewhere.