AUTHOR'S NOTES: Somewhat shorter chapter this time, as I have to set the stage for the big 'Mech fight coming up (hopefully next chapter, but you never can tell). I also had to introduce some new characters (including someone a certain faithful reviewer has been bugging me about for awhile) and get Sheila a new 'Mech. So there's some more tech porn here. (There's also a reference to Masamune Shirow's Dominion Tank Police that I couldn't resist.)
REVIEWER'S CORNER: GreenKnight: well, this chapter should just about do it for you. You get your questions answered and there's some more scenes with Nicia. One request I have is maybe leave shorter comments—your last one had a short story you should post on rather than in a review! (Besides, you have my e-mail!)
4477: Back to work I am.
FraserMage: According to Lethal Heritage, the Thor was named because it had a PPC and an autocannon (lighting and thunder), but I think that was Stackpole trying to hide the real origins of the 'Mech and the Clans by extension. That mod does work; I tested it out in Heavy Metal Pro. Never heard any Mandalorian sayings, but I used to be quite the Trekker back in the day.
SulliMike23: Yep. The Snowbird Saga is becoming as much about their friendship as anything else.
STORY SOUNDTRACK: Hmm. Try "The Remora" from Executive Decision or "Roll Tide" from Crimson Tide. (I'd love to see what Jerry Bruckheimer could do with a Battletech flick.)
Sudeten Hyatt Regency
Sudeten, Tamar March, Federated Commonwealth
31 August 3051
The phone rang insistently, cutting obnoxiously into Max Canis-Vlata's sleep. He woke up, mumbled a few choice curse words, and reached for the phone, blanking the visual feed. "Yeah," he muttered, still half-asleep.
"Max?" It was Frederick Matria. "Hate to bother you, man, but we just got an Action This Day message. You and Sheila gotta report to the CP in fifteen minutes. We're sending a car over."
Max instantly came awake. Action This Day messages came straight from either the most senior officer in the March—in this case, Morgan Hasek-Davion—or the Archon herself. They were uncommon and never boded well for the continued long health of the people who received them. "Okay," he replied. "Can you give us half an hour? Need to shower."
"Sure. See you in a few." Matria signed off.
Max looked over at Sheila, who amazingly was still asleep. He was glad to see that; she had enough to keep her awake at nights, so maybe his words had helped. Gently, he shook her shoulder. "Babe. Babe, wake up." Sheila mumbled something unintelligible, so he shook harder. From under the covers, her artificial arm came up, waving him off. The sight of it still bothered him some. "Go 'way," Sheila said sleepily, and turned over. Max sighed, got up, grabbed the covers, and pulled them off of her. "Up!" he yelled, as Sheila curled into a ball. Oh hell, Max thought, I shouldn't have done that. The Sudeten night was hot and though Max was clad only in his shorts, Sheila had decided to sleep sans apparel. The shadows cloaked her, but that just made his imagination work all the harder. "What th' hell…" she said.
"Matria called. We gotta stand to."
That brought her awake. "Oh…okay." Sheila stretched languidly, like a cat. "And I was having such a good dream."
Same here, Max thought, turning red. Just came true, too. "Uh…let's…let's go shower. We only have half an hour."
Sheila pulled herself out of bed. "That's plenty of time…" She winked at him. "…for you to wash your commander's back."
Thirty minutes (and a lot of steamed windows) later, they were in a briefing room with Calla Bighorn-Vlata and Morgan Hasek-Davion. Calla obviously wanted to talk at length to his daughter, but there was no time, and Hasek-Davion dominated the conversation. Twenty minutes after that, Sheila was in the Snowbirds' assigned 'Mech bay with her battalion gathered there. As soon as the message had come in, Matria, the duty officer, had quickly woken up all the Snowbirds.
When Sheila entered the 'Mech bay, there at first was silence as commander and battalion regarded each other for the first time in months. Then abruptly Felisanna shot to her feet and began clapping, followed by Tooriu Kku, and then all the others, whistling and stomping their feet. Sheila noticed Maysa Bari typically in tears, while Marion Rhialla just wore a wide grin. Nicia Caii shot a fist in the air and let out a whoop. And Senefa Malthus was among them, sitting off to the left, part of and yet not yet part of the Snowbirds; she was smiling, though she did not clap. Sheila felt her own face feel as if it was about to split from the smile she had, and felt her eyes filling with tears, though she just managed to hold them back. She was home.
Elfa Brownoak stood at the head of the battalion, which was assembled on bleachers at the far end of the 'Mech bay. She snapped to. "Ten-hoon!" she shouted over the din. "Commanding officer present!" The yells and clapping instantly ceased as the battalion, all 28 MechWarriors and one tech, came to attention. Elfa walked forward and formally saluted Sheila. "Welcome back, Commander."
Sheila returned the salute. "Thank you, Major. Status?"
"All present and accounted for." Elfa glanced at Nicia. "Unit is three MechWarriors short. All 'Mechs operational."
"Excellent. Thanks. Major, I relieve you of command."
Elfa grinned. "I stand relieved." And with that, the Snowbirds Special Missions Combined Arms Trinary was once more Sheila's. Another great cheer went up from the assembled MechWarriors. She put up her arms to quiet them down.
"Welcome back, Sheila!" yelled Tessya Blackthorn.
"Thanks, Tess."
"How's the arm work?" This from Tooriu. "Max looks awfully happy; must work pretty good."
Both of them instantly blushed, which brought whoops and wolf-whistles from the crowd. Sheila was sorely tempted to comment on Tooriu's rumored activity with Elfa, but let it go. "Good enough to crack you over the head, hentai," she shot back instead. "Okay, that's enough. We need to get down to business." Sheila took up a position behind a podium. "First of all, I'm sorry to hear about Tinyak Fernplanter, Art McKenna, and Terry Nutter. They were good men—damn good men. They died standing up and fighting back." Sheila hated the words, because that was all they were. Both McKenna and Nutter had been family men and left behind children that would never really know their father. Fernplanter had a brother serving on the Taurian frontier in a Capellan March Militia unit; it would be months before the brother learned of the death. The knowledge that McKenna and Fernplanter had died saving her cut Sheila to the bone, but there was nothing to do about it now. "I've heard some people say that they died for nothing, because we lost Vantaa. Well, that's bull, because they died for their buddies, for us." For me. "We must remember them as our honored comrades, forever in the field, but we have a mission to complete."
Sheila turned to the two MechWarriors who had followed her into the 'Mech bay, along with Max. "These two folks have volunteered to fill out our unit for this mission. I'm sure you know Megan O'Reilly and Bien Canonizado." Both warriors waved. O'Reilly was an "old head" from "lots of different places," as she said, who had been with the Sentinels since before the War of 3039. She still retained her beauty despite 20 years in 'Mechs, but incongrously chewed a cigar. Canonizado had joined the regiment not long before Sheila and Max and was more their age, a promising fencer from a Steiner noble family from Chapultepec who had given it all up for the chance at being a MechWarrior. O'Reilly exchanged backslaps with Rhialla, an old friend, while Canonizado took a place next to Felisanna, who instantly gave him a hug. "I hope you'll welcome them into the fold, as it were. Megan will be taking over Tinyak's position with her Wolfhound in Tessya's lance, while Bien's going to Tooriu's bunch with his Victor."
"Better watch it," Tooriu said over his shoulder to Canonizado. "Felisanna ain't housebroken."
"Prick!" Felisanna playfully kicked the much bigger Tooriu in the back.
The battalion dissolved in laughter, and Sheila exchanged a grin with Max. That went well. Sheila had expected it would; both were already Sentinels and fairly well known. Now for the real task.
"You also may notice our other new addition." Sheila motioned to Senefa Malthus. "Now I know this isn't easy. Yes, Senefa was a Clanner. We fought her on Planting and Vantaa. However, she fought us with honor, and she kept us all from being overrun at Sharpsburg when she defected. We owe her big—I owe her big. I invited her to join the Snowbirds, and she consented to do so. Now I want you to do the same--but if you object, it won't reflect on you at all. All in favor, raise your hands. " Instantly the majority of the Snowbirds raised their hands, followed by a few more who did so more slowly. Sheila was glad to see the majority agreed with her: as Max had said, they all remembered what Senefa had done at Sharpsburg. "All who say no, raise your hands." Some hands did go up at that: Sheila noticed Tessya Blackthorn and Chuck Badaxe among them. "Majority rules," Sheila pronounced, then turned to Senefa. "Senefa Malthus, welcome to the Snowbirds."
"Thank you, Commander." Senefa stepped down from the bleachers. "May I say a few words?" Sheila nodded. "Again, I thank you." The Clanswoman faced the Snowbirds. "It is said that a person who defects once will do it again. I assure you this is not the case and never shall be, upon my life and honor.
"I was once your enemy. I opposed you on the battlefield. My Falcons killed some of yours, and you killed some of mine. That is what warriors do. I understand and accept this; I am sorry if you cannot." Senefa surveyed the faces in front of her, seeing some of them nod in agreement, some of them turning red with hate. "Today I am no longer your enemy. I am not yet worthy to be called your friend, as these are." She motioned at O'Reilly and Canonizado. "That is a bond that must be tested on the battlefield. But I can assure you that I will fight and, if necessary, die for the cause you believe in: to stop the Clans.
"Yes, that sounds strange from one who once counted herself among them. Yet their ways are wrong, and I will follow them no longer. I do not know where my life's journey leads me, but I do know, as a friend once told me—" she smiled over her shoulder at Sheila "—that being a MechWarrior is my first, best, and only destiny. This is what I was literally born for. I only ask that you count me among you, fellow warriors." Senefa gave them a nod, then resumed her seat next to Marion.
It took a moment for people to realize she had stopped. Then Tooriu stood up, slammed his massive hands together, and proclaimed, "That's beautiful!" It broke the tension, and people began clapping. Marion punched Senefa lightly in the shoulder and mouthed "Showoff," though Sheila couldn't hear her. Sheila also noticed that there were some, not all of whom had voted against Senefa, who did not clap and cheer. There were still open wounds here.
"Now that it's settled—" Sheila began, but Marion stood up. "What is it, Marion?"
"Begging your pardon, Sheila, but we still need a new Lance Commander for Nutter's lance."
"Sorry. I forgot." This was something to think about. Sentinel tradition was to nominate someone from within the lance itself: MechWarriors were more likely to follow someone they knew. At the very least, it had to be someone within the company; it was rare that an outsider was brought in, though if no one was deemed competent enough, it had to be done. Sheila looked to Togan Nordkoping: the big Rasalhagian was the senior MechWarrior in the lance. "Togan?"
Nordkoping stood. "I nominate Maysa Bari."
Maysa instantly went white as a sheet, and Sheila for a brief moment of panic thought that the sixteen year old would faint. She would be the youngest lance commander in Sentinels history if she was confirmed, and there was no denying Maysa had skill—but could she command? She obviously didn't think so: she was shaking her head in terror. "She's a bit young," Sheila replied to Nordkoping, mainly to stall for time.
"She's also the best shot we have," Nordkoping told her.
"Aye, but kin she fight a lance?" O'Reilly said in her brogue, obviously unafraid to speak her mind.
"No, I can't!" Maysa exclaimed. "I just can't!" She frantically looked around. "Wha-what about Senefa?"
Sheila swore she could hear jaws hitting the floor, hers included. Making Senefa a MechWarrior in the Snowbirds was controversy enough for one day; now Maysa was talking about promoting her. Both Sheila and Senefa were about to protest, but Nordkoping, rubbing his beard in thought, shrugged and said, "Not a bad idea."
"Yes it is!" Chuck Badaxe yelled.
"No, it isn't," Nordkoping calmly replied. "She commanded a Cluster, so she knows how to command. We know just how good she is—only too well. That's a pretty good idea, Maysa. Commander," Nordkoping told Sheila, "I agree with MechWarrior Bari."
"But she's a Clanner!" Badaxe protested.
"A lot of people thought you were just a rich boy come to play too," Elfa snapped. That silenced Badaxe. "I have no objections, Sheila." As company commander, she had to sign off on the promotion.
That left one person that Sheila had to hear from: Stefan Jones, the fourth member of the lance. Jones was a year old than Sheila, a graduate of the famous Sanglamore Academy on Skye. All eyes turned to him. He looked at Senefa, then down, then at the ceiling—anywhere but the others. He hesitated. "I...I guess it's okay."
"You sure?" asked Nordkoping.
"Yeah." Jones' voice was more firm. "Yeah, I'm sure."
"Senefa?" By Sentinels tradition, a promotion had to be agreed to by the candidate. Many MechWarriors turned down higher promotion to stay with their lance, the only family many of them had.
"If it is acceptable, then I agree."
Sheila thought about holding another vote, but then heard Jaime Wolf's voice in her head. If you are in command, command. "Very well then. Senefa Malthus, you've been promoted to Lance Commander and command of Heavy Lance, Bravo Company, Snowbirds SMCAT. I'll clear it with the CO and we'll get you new rank tabs before the op." Sheila held up her hands. "Now. Let's get to the reason we're here…"
Nicia had already set up the holotank; Sheila switched it on. "Naturally, everything you see here is top secret. Talk about it to anyone and I'll have your heads on a plate." The image resolved into a globe. "This should look familiar—it's Vantaa." There was some talk amongst the Snowbirds, and Sheila shook her head. "Sorry, we're not going back to retake it. It's just the Snowbirds on this op. Our job is to go in and get the Vantaa Rangers out."
Sheila nodded towards a raised hand: Kaatha's. "Just them?" she asked.
"I'm afraid so. After we left back in June, the Rangers took to the hills around Cold Harbour. They've been raiding Clan supply columns since then, in anticipation of us counterattacking. Well, Hanse Davion put the kibosh on that; we just don't have the manpower. But we're not going to leave them behind—not after all they did. What's more is, according to a message the Rangers got off Vantaa through a friendly ComStar Precentor, the Wolves are getting ready to move in with a full-court press on the Rangers, so we have to get them out now."
Sheila zoomed in on a section on Vantaa just west of Cold Harbour. "The Rangers have pulled way back from the city to Lynchburg. They're holed up in a hotel complex outside the town called Greenbrier. So far, the Clans haven't figured this out yet, but that won't last.
She zoomed in further. "This is Operation Sundragon. We'll burn in to about two klicks offplanet, then combat drop in. We'll all land together on this plateau, six kilometers south of the Greenbrier. Once we're all down, we'll split into two groups: Alpha Company, with me, will secure Greenbrier. The Rangers supposedly have already secured transportation. We'll cover them and move the ten kilometers west to Lynchburg DropPort, which Bravo Company will have already secured. Elfa, I'll leave that to your discretion. You'll have a platoon of the SLI to play with too."
"Oh, thank God," Elfa breathed. "No more dismounted ops for this blonde." There were laughs and calls of agreement at that.
"Once the DropPort is secured, the DropShip will land. We'll load them all up, take off, and come home. Total time on the ground should be no longer than three hours."
"Enemy forces?" Marion asked.
"After we retreated offplanet, the Jade Falcons had to cede the world to the Wolves because they took far more casualties. According to intel, there are two Wolf Clusters onplanet: the 7th Battle and the 16th Battle. The 7th has taken up residence in our old digs at Cold Harbour, while the 16th is at Rissala, so we won't have to worry about the latter. Star Colonel Carmin Winson is in command of the 7th, and he's very good—but he's got most of his forces arrayed on the main supply routes from Sharpsburg to Cold Harbour to Rissala. They're not bothering with the Massanutten Valley or Lynchburg because there's nothing strategically important there. Moreover, the main road from Sharpsburg to Lynchburg is still unusable because the bridge at Front Royal remains wrecked."
"Along with everything else in Front Royal," commented Tessya.
"Right. Our job is to get in, get the people out, and leave. If we do it without a shot fired, I consider that a successful mission."
"How're we gonna sneak in a DropShip full of 'Mechs?" Tooriu wanted to know.
"There's a weekly supply ship that the Wolves bring in from Kirchbach. MIIO is arranging for it to be delayed 48 hours. We come in, play like we're the DropShip long enough to get into drop position, then do our thing. We'll lose the element of surprise, but by the time they get the general alarm out, we'll be gone." Sheila paused. "Now I know what you're thinking: aerofighters. I'm not worried about being eyeballed on the way in, since we'll be using the Minerva, which is a Clan DropShip. They may jump us on the way out, and that's a problem, since the Minerva can only carry five fighters, and the 7th Battle has fifteen at their disposal.
"But here's the good news. We still have a small base on Inari, Vantaa's outermost moon. The Clans don't know about it yet; that's how we've been getting our info. Last week, the AFFC sent a Titan-class fighter carrier DropShip to that base. They'll wait for our signal and warp in fast. Titans only carry six fighters, but they're pretty formidable on their own. With eleven fighters and two DropShips, we should be able to fight our way out if we need to."
Marion looked surprised. "Son of a bitch. It looks like somebody in GHQ actually thought this shit out for once."
"It gets better," Sheila smiled. "We've also been authorized to add another 'Mech to the Snowbirds on temp detachment. It's one of the new Catapults we've been hearing about, the one with the Arrow IV guided artillery missile system. That'll give us some organic artillery support and even a rudimentary surface-to-air missile capability."
"Who's gonna pilot it?" Tooriu asked.
"New guy named Fabian Cynmar. His mom got iced by the Maskirovka in Liao space, so he up and stole one of the prototypes and got off Grand Base through Free Capella." Sheila heard the murmuring. "Yeah—as I know only too damn well, we're not putting a lot of trust in anything remotely associated with Liao right now. That's why Cynmar isn't here. He'll get the go order an hour before we leave, and the SLI will be keeping a close eye on him until we do to make sure he doesn't blab. While we're on Vantaa, I'll be keeping a close eye on him, Max and I, and if he steps out of line we'll kill him stone dead." Sheila put her hands behind her back. "That's the mission in a nutshell. There's not much to it. We'll have a more detailed lance commanders' brief on the Minerva once we raise ship. Any questions?"
"Just one," said O'Reilly. "What happens if we get made on the way in?"
"We'll have to abort the mission. Nothing else. We can't risk taking on a whole Cluster."
"And what if it's a trap? What if it's the Wolves suckerin' us in?"
"I think I can answer that," Senefa spoke up. "I know of Carmin Winson. He is an honorable man. He would not stoop to such a tactic."
"That's assumin' Winson's still in command and intel hasn't ballocks it up yet again," O'Reilly replied hotly. "What if you're wrong, Clanner?"
Sheila opened her mouth to reply to that, but it was Max who spoke first. "What if the Wolves all drop dead of Fronk's Fever? What if the Minerva blows up on the launchpad? What if Sudeten's primary goes nova? We'll never leave at all if we keep taking into account the 'what ifs,' MechWarrior." O'Reilly gave Max a withering stare, but let the matter drop: from the glares she was getting, the Snowbirds did not appreciate the Clanner slur.
"All right then," Sheila concluded. "Any other questions? None? Okay. It's now 0830. Gather your gear and man your 'Mechs. We raise ship at 1200 hours. Better make your goodbyes quick. Dismissed."
The Snowbirds broke up, some rushing off to make hurried farewells to family and friends, others towards their 'Mechs, and some walking slowly out in small groups, talking over the mission. Felisanna still had her arm around Canonizado, saying something about Snowbird 'tradition,' not that such a thing existed yet. O'Reilly nodded at Sheila and Max to let them know her opposition was nothing personal, then lit her cigar, despite the fact that there were No Smoking signs around the 'Mech bay and a stray spark into something flammable would be very bad for all. None came close to Senefa, at first, but then Tooriu loped over, put a beefy arm around the smaller Clanswoman, and began leading her off, talking animatedly about what beer he liked and if Senefa had ever got drunk. He left Sheila with a wink. Kaatha, Elfa, and Nicia lingered behind with Max and Sheila. As Sheila switched off the holotank and wiped its contents from the memory, Kaatha asked, "Sheila, what 'Mech will you be using?"
"Oh, yeah. Damn! I forgot to tell everyone." She thumbed back towards the bay. "Sam Jaggar in Alpha Battalion is letting me borrow his Warhammer until I get a new 'Mech assigned. I suppose Nicia scrapped what was left of my poor Shruiken. I trained on a 'Hammer simulator on Tharkad." Sheila hoped that less than a month's retraining would be enough. She promised herself to spend every spare moment in the Warhammer on the way to Vantaa. She was far from a hundred percent on her arm, especially in a 'Mech cockpit, and though in theory a MechWarrior could pilot any machine because the basic controls were the same, each 'Mech design had its own quirks, advantages, and disadvantages. Failing to know even the slightest nuance of a 'Mech could be fatal.
Then she noticed them all suddenly grinning at her, except Max. She turned to Max, who shrugged, as mystifed as she was. "That's just unacceptable, isn't it?" Elfa said to Nicia.
"Oh, certainly," Nicia said with mock sorrow. "Can't have a battalion commander borrowing 'Mechs. It's undignified."
"That too. Kaatha?"
Kaatha nodded sagely. "Without a doubt. What would the Clans say? Terribly bad form."
"Okay…what's going on?" Sheila asked.
"Well," Nicia told her, her grin getting larger by the second, "the regiment never did get you a birthday present. Follow me." She waggled a finger at Sheila, who obediently did as ordered.
They walked down the row of 'Mechs, which already had swarms of techs going over them, readying them for departure. Finally, Nicia turned, going between Max's Battlemaster and Chuck Badaxe's Atlas.
Hidden from view behind the two gigantic assault 'Mechs was Sheila's Shruiken.
Sheila stopped and stared. "It's…it's my 'Mech. But how, Senefa blew it to hell in the Valley—" She slapped her forehead. "No, that was only superficial damage. Of course, the Clans had no reason to salvage it."
"Nope. The Fusiliers had pulled back north to consolidate by the time we got there. I had it brought to Cold Harbour and then loaded up when we left Vantaa. That's how I found out that Liao dick had sabotaged your jumpjets." Nicia sighed heavily. "I'll be honest, Sheila. I felt responsible. It was one of my people who got you into that situation, which wouldn't have happened if I'd vetted him better." The smile returned and she looked lovingly up at the 'Mech. "Besides, it was about time for an upgrade anyway. My uncle always said he'd wished he'd made the Mark One heavier."
Sheila walked up to her 'Mech to inspect it. The Shruiken had originally been built as a test vehicle, a proposal from Nicia's uncle Tesla Caii, who worked on the Wolfhound line at TharHes on Tharkad. As the Wolfhound had been built to counter the Kurita Panther light 'Mech, so Tesla Caii had thought that the Federated Commonwealth needed a 'Mech as fast as the Kurita heavy Dragon series. He had proposed upscaling the Wolfhound's basic chassis to sixty tons, the same weight as the Dragon, with speed equal to the Kurita design and energy-based armament. This was not only to counter the later Grand Dragon, which used a PPC instead of the earlier design's autocannon, but also to make his design independent on supply: a 'Mech with only energy armament was limited only to lubricants and coolant, plus the needs of the pilot. To further stick a finger into the Kurita eye, he named the new design the Shruiken. The AFFC liked the idea and ordered six preproduction models. Though it superficially resembled the Wolfhound, the Shruiken was almost twice as large, stockier, and with a slightly altered head design to give the pilot more lateral view, rather than the flat canopy used on the WLF-1 and WLF-2 series. For armament, it had been given a single PPC and seven medium lasers, which many designers—though not Caii—thought was seriously underarming a heavy 'Mech, especially one that already had serious heat problems. Caii had responded by removing a medium laser and some armor in favor of his unique "Shruiken Launcher," which fired two-meter square ceramic stars designed to shatter on impact with an enemy 'Mech, releasing a deadly spray of Inferno napalm when it did.
Unfortunately, the design had failed. By the time the first SHR-1ST walked off the TharHes line in late 3049, its weight had been increased slightly because Tesla had decided it needed heavier armor, an additional PPC, and more heat sinks, though those added were the brand new double heat sink designs. That had also caused it to have its top speed reduced because it needed a smaller engine. Since high speed was the whole point of the design, the AFFC had cancelled it after only the first had been finished and the other two partially completed; even the addition of jumpjets had not saved it, and the unique Shruiken Launcher had been seen as a gimmick by the AFFC. Heartbroken but determined to do something with it, Tesla Caii had given it to his old friend Calla Bighorn-Vlata for a cut rate price, and Calla had presented to his daughter when Sheila had graduated from the Nagelring. When it had been further modified before Vantaa to include a Beagle Active Probe, Tesla's niece Nicia had redesignated it SHR-2ST.
"Looks heavier for some reason," Sheila commented.
"It is," Nicia confirmed. "75 tons rather than 65. We had to put in a bigger engine, so we had to cut back the shoulder plastrons. The torso is wider, too. Notice the profile's changed a bit. That's because this baby is maxed out on armor—14.5 tons worth. Now you can go toe to toe with Mad Cats with a fair chance of surviving." Nicia waved her hand like a magician over the Shruiken. "Main armament is still over and under ER-PPCs in the right arm, but secondary array is now four medium pulse lasers. They fire faster and generate more heat, but they're also easier to hit with because of the higher rate of fire, and they hit harder."
"Yeah, I know," Sheila said ruefully, "the Clans have them, remember?"
"Well, you can't match them in range, but you can damn sure hit them more often now. You still have your Shruiken Launcher in the left arm. Now, see those bulges in the chest area?" Sheila nodded. "Now I didn't give your 'Mech tits. Kinda small anyway, compared to yours."
Sheila rolled her eyes. "You're just jealous." Nicia wasn't flat-chested, but she wasn't well-endowed, either.
"Feh. Don't need big ones when you're crawling around hooking up myomers. Just get in the way. Anyhow, the one on the left is your Beagle Probe that you had before, but the one on the right is a Guardian ECM suite."
Max, standing next to them, raised his eyebrows. "That's expensive stuff, Nicia. Where did you get that?"
"It wasn't expensive," Nicia protested. "As to where I got it, let's not talk about that." Max nodded in understanding; the parts were stolen. "Your top end is still the same, 68 kph, and you still have jumpjets with 120 meter capacity. Double heat sinks aplenty." Nicia folded her arms and looked expectantly at Sheila. "Now if that doesn't get your panties wet, what does?"
"You techs are so filthy minded," Elfa sighed.
"It's all the grease they work with," Kaatha quipped.
"What's the bad news?" Sheila asked. Every 'Mech had a disadvantage; no one had yet designed the perfect 'Mech.
"Well…the main reason we had to expand the torso was because we had to put in a GM 300 extra-light engine to replace your old Pitban 285. I stuck that one in Senefa's Thunderbolt. The problem with the XL is that it's half the weight of a standard 300, but it's twice as bulky. It's also twice as easy to hit. You won't be able to take quite the pounding you could in the old Mark Two. Felt it was worth it to put on all the extra stuff. The pulse lasers also run hotter, like I said, so you're still gonna have to keep one eye on the heat gauge. As long as you cycle between your PPCs and your pulses, you should be okay." Nicia kicked the foot of the Shruiken. "She's the Mark Three, SHR-3ST. You can see I gave her a fresh coat of paint, too." Sheila looked upwards and saw that CLAN EATER II had been stenciled across the left breast, with a row of ten stars beneath to indicate her kills. Nicia made a great show of checking her watch. "I think you need to fire her up and take her out. Time is money, you know."
"Oh sure." Sheila threw her arms around Nicia, though she only came up to the other woman's chest. "Nicia, I love you! You're awesome, simply awesome! This is the best birthday present anyone's ever given me—no offense, Max…"
Max was grinning. "None taken, babe. It does beat that book about Sherman I got you." He tapped the Shruiken's foot appreciatively. "Though if you start spending too much time around this thing and calling it Bonaparte, then I will have to say something."
Sheila laughed and hugged Nicia. "You're awesome, Nicia," she repeated.
"Yeah, yeah…I know." She took Sheila's old battered neurohelmet from Kaatha, who had quietly retrieved it, and handed to her. "But I'm not happy until you turn on the damn thing, so get up there and do it."
"You got it." Sheila gave Elfa and Kaatha hugs as well, kissed Max, and climbed up the steps set into the side of the Shruiken. "How are you, old buddy," she whispered reverently, not resisting the urge to plant a kiss on the cold, armored steel of the head. "I missed you too." She opened the hatch and climbed in, then reached behind the seat to retrieve the cooling vest from the small locker there. As she pulled off the jumpsuit she wore, something glinted off the canopy frame. Sheila reached up and gasped in surprise: hanging from the canopy bow was her wedding ring.
On the seat was an envelope. Sheila tore it open to find a note from Senefa inside. It read, Sheila, I had lied to you. I kept your ring in my quarters on the Minerva as isorla, as a trophy. It was something I never should have done. I hope that you will accept this as an adequate apology. Your friend, Senefa.
Sheila wiped her eyes and put the ring around her neck on its thin chain. "Damn Clanners," she sniffed. "Always have to have the last word."