Chapter XVII, by RogueBaron

Saso, New Syrtis,
December 16, 3068

Getting away from Irian was not easy, especially when IBMU sent their entire agent to search every single Locust on planet. Alas, the Locust was Mario's only transportation. So he had to hide it and hitchhike here and there to get to the nearby towns.

Lucky for him, IBMU or the Scimitars never saw his face, so he could get into town to find a junk dealer who was willing to take his Locust, in exchange of free shuttle ticket to New Syrtis. The junk dealer knew that IBMU was looking for the Locust, but the price of the Locust was much higher than the fee of turning Mario in. So they opted to take the mech, and gave Mario what he wanted. All Mario took from the Locust was the memory card from the electronics.

And here he was, in Outreach, eight months later, waiting for the Davion rep to pay him for a job well done. As he handed the memory card, he wondered if it worth the lives of his entire company. Dozens of mercenaries and locals gave their lives to get it, and Mario was the only one left in the Screaming Eagles unit.

"Thank you, mechwarrior Cruz," the Davion rep took the memory card and put it in his briefcase. "Your service is very influential to monitor every movements of the Word of Blake. We can't let Outreach, Tharkad, and New Avalon happens again."

Mario was a bit thrown off by the fact that the Davion rep didn't even check for the memory card. He didn't think that the Davions trusted mercenary units, especially a small company like the Screaming Eagles. He remembered thinking about this when he was at Irian. Why would Davion send a merc unit to do a sensitive job like this? They did have excellent spies, and they had strong connection with House Kurita, whose O5P was known to be the best intelligent agency around the Inner Sphere. Why the Screaming Eagles?

"What's in it?" Mario couldn't help.

"Your service is no longer needed," the Davion got up instead. "I just authorized a transfer to your bank account. You should see it in a couple of hours. If we ever need your service in the future, we'll contact you. As for now, I suggest you take some time off to rebuild your unit before you go to the field again."

"Sir," Mario grabbed the Davion. "I lost eleven lancemates to recover the data. I have a right to know what it is."

"You have been rewarded accordingly, mechwarrior Cruz. That's the only right you owe from House Davion."

"How do you know I gave you the data? How do you know that the memory card contains what you need? You didn't even check it. Why? What's in the memory card?"

The Davion look at him for a long time and regretted underestimating Mario's attention to detail. Alas, he knew he couldn't escape from Mario's pledge, so he let out a deep breath before answering, "Struts. Armor. Gyros. Jump jets. Who knows. It doesn't matter."

"What?" Mario squinted. "It doesn't matter? You paid us for nothing?"

"What we need is not at Irian," the Davion explained. "We sent you to Irian to throw off Marik's guard. Your unit was a diversionary force. We sent our spies to retrieve our goal, and the real mission has been accomplished. That's the only thing you need to know."

"So my lancemates died for nothing!" Mario snarled. "I knew something was not right about this mission! You hijo de puta! You think you can play with other people's lives? Vete al infierno!"

"Don't forget what you really are, mechwarrior Cruz!" the Davion yelled. "You're a mercenary, and money is what counts for you. Don't lecture me about life, because you don't know what it means."

Mario just couldn't take it anymore. He cocked his arm and decked the Davion, right on the bridge. The Davion's head snapped back, and he tumbled backward, swept by Mario's fierce rage. Blood streamed down from his nose smearing his light-colored shirt.

"You're dead, Cruz!" he reached for his gun. "You mercenary filth!"

"You killed me when you sent me to Irian," Mario growled, turning his back at the Davion. "Go ahead, kill me again. After all, I'm just a mercenary to you."

Mario walked away, expecting the sharp bullet to rip his body anytime soon. But it never came. So Mario walked into the snow curtain of Saso, thinking if the lives of his comrades really worth a couple million c-bills. But in the end, the Davion was right. It was the life of a mercenary. It was who they were, and it was how they were measured. People would always link them with money, although deep within, they were as human as everybody.