Colonel Michael "Vortex" Davids, co-commander of the Dark Ranger Mercenary Company, surveyed the interior of his mech base. Sprawling across the open bountiful plains of Blue Diamond, on the outskirts of Lyran space, the mech base looked something akin to an old Earth airstrip. Positioned along an actual airstrip were almost a dozen large hangars, their high ceilings holding a cargo more valuable than the land itself. Within these facilities were over two dozen mechs, ready to go if so ordered by either Davids or his command staff. From outside, personnel moved through the hangars, conducting readiness checks on the equipment and servicing the mechs. Davids watched the hustle and bustle amidst a wave of nostalgia. It had been almost fifteen years ago since he'd formed this company from scratch. Though it was small compared to some of the more notorious names in the mercenary business, the Dark Rangers were some of the best recruited. Even now, plans were in motion to double or even triple the size of the group within the next few years. The construction equipment, working on the skeleton of a hangar, was evidence of this.
The base had not existed when Davids first landed on this planet fourteen years ago, following the completion of the Clan Wars with the Treaty of Tukkayd. Mercenaries had been in high demand following the war, a result of high attrition among the Inner Sphere houses and the necessity to have good garrisons on all the bordering worlds. Though Davion by birth, Davids, a career mercenary, had found Blue Diamond to be a quiet spot close to the warzone where he could assemble his force and prepare for what would happen following the collapse of the treaty. The fourteen years since had proven to be very lucrative for him and his group. In that time they had undertaken over thirty assignments and close to 150 missions from those assignments. What had started out as a single lance of mechs was now six lances, complete with air support, armor, and infantry. How the years had passed.
Although the base itself was as vulnerable as any ground installation to an attacking force, Davids knew that there were other cards in his deck. Parked on the close end of the field were two Broadsword-class dropships – "donated" by Clan Wolf during one of their assignments. These dropships were always on standby and ready to go in under an hour. Moreover the base was never truly empty. During assignments, the Dark Rangers would loan their base to the Blue Diamond Militia – thus providing the citizen-soldiers on the planet with a way to train and a barracks to stay in. Finally there was the natural deterrent of the Lyran Guards 110th Division, whose base was located only a handful of miles away. This heavy division of mechs and men was a permanent fixture on the planet. Both he and Davids were good friends with a long and powerful history behind them.
Michael walked through one of the hangars and looked up at the mechs as they stood. They reminded him of old statues he'd seen on Terra – silent guardians protecting valuable goods. Each of these guardians was powered by a fusion power plant and most had weapons systems that could turn an entire city to slag if necessary. Some mechs were designated names such as Atlas or Thor, reminders of the power that they wielded. Michael's mech, located at the far end of the bay, was a towering Mad Cat Mk. II, the bigger brother to the infamous Mad Cat. Weighing in at 90 tons, the Mad Cat Mk. II (he tended to refer to it as the Mk. II), could carry a nearly endless combination of weapons and equipment. Following the ages-old tradition, Michaels had named his mech Collateral Damage, a joke on the kind of havoc he could wreak if given a chance. He'd had this mech almost as long as the company – but thanks to top-notch mechanics and his careful piloting the mech remained in pristine condition.
He crossed the bay and passed through a steel door that led to a flight of stairs leading down. Following the stairs, he descended into a well-lit and air-conditioned corridor that crossed the complex from the mech bays to the C&C (Command and Control) center of the base. Exiting through another door after taking the steps up, Michaels followed a complex route through the structure until he came to another door. Removing a key from his pocket, he unlocked the door and entered into his administrative office. Unlike some commanders, Davids liked to manage most of the Dark Star affairs himself. It was a running joke in his command circle that he lacked the funds to afford a secretary – the truth was that the work was so computerized that he would have been overpaying for a secretary.
One of the few luxuries he took was beyond the door, in the form of a large wooden desk. Made of wood from Terra (and a nightmare to bring), the desk itself was several hundred years old and still in excellent condition. The only modernization to it was the computer screen sitting in the middle. Sitting down at the desk, Davids looked at the stack of file folders waiting for him. He picked up the first file and thumbed through it, noting with satisfaction that it was his Quartermaster's weekly supply report, which had been promised to him by the end of the day.
The hardest part of running a mercenary outfit of over 500 people was making sure that they had food to eat, tools to use, and weapons to wage war with. For this, Davids turned in part to the Lyrans, in part to the planet itself, and in part to a small company stationed on Kantares III that he and others had started a long time ago. The company, referred to as the Kantares Deep Supply (or KDS), specialized in the acquisition and dispursal of the goods needed to keep mercenary units running. Spread across several worlds in three different Inner Sphere areas, the KDS remained the cheapest and easiest means of resupply that Davids had access to. The one item that made DS unique was that the company routinely made weapons and equipment available to those in good standing with it. It was a well-kept secret that KDS had the largest supply of Clan technology in the Inner Sphere – the source of which was a closely guarded secret that only a handful knew about.
He had just started on the next file, involving the latest duty roster, when a buzzer sounded from the computer screen on his desk. Pressing a key on the built-in keyboard, he looked up to see the face of his assistant and second-in-command, Lance Commander Julie "Harbinger" Athros. He had handpicked all his personnel over the time the outfit had been in existence, and Julie was among the most veteran of the group. He had asked her to join up after watching her in an arena match on Solaris, the Gaming Planet. She was not just one of the most veteran pilots either. She was also, it had turned out, one of the most experienced, with ten years of mech piloting under her belt already – as much as him. The rest of their group was fairly evenly rounded out; two dozen mech pilots, a force of almost a hundred assorted infantry and Elemental suit pilots (Elementals, all mechwarriors could agree, were serious pains in the ass sometimes if they were on the opposing side). He also had at his disposal a wing of various aerofighters, a small company of armor, and then the standard cadre of support personnel to round things out.
"Yes, Julie?" He asked aloud, even as he turned to the next report, which was from one of his Lance Commanders, Lance Commander Ri'vel "Hunter" Kent, who was in charge of Shadow Lance, whose name was fairly self-explanatory. Shadow Lance, made up mostly of light and medium mechs, was his "undercover" force that was deployed as both scouts and saboteurs.
"We just received a transmission from ComStar. It's marked For Your Eyes Only. I think you might like to see it." Though both had roughly the same experience, her sandy brown hair and glasses gave the impression that she was really ten years younger than he was. Truthfully, she was only five.
Nodding, Michael flipped to the next page in the report. "I'll take a look at it in a minute," he said, cool black eyes moving swiftly over the report even as his sharp mind made mental notes of things to work on. With nothing further to add, he turned his computer screen off, taking another moment or two to read the report before setting it down and rising from his desk.
The tall Colonel walked briskly out of his room and down another corridor, this time pausing by a door that read "Authorized Personnel Only". Quickly, he entered his six-number code into the keypad on the right of the door, and then paused as the door's scanners quickly checked his vitals against the vitals on file. Satisfied that he was really himself, the doors slid aside to permit him access to the heart and soul of his base, their Command and Control center.
All bases have a C&C center. This room, no bigger than a conference room, was decked out with computer gear and technicians moving around from console to console. Some wrote things down on pads of paper, others worked on programming. Everyone in this base had been the best that money could buy. These people were paid for their expertise, and in the time they had worked with him they had yet to let him down.
Many of them had joined willingly, jumping at a chance to do something that many would have dreamed of—working covert operations for an elite merc group. They kept tabs on all information that was passed in the world and the universe around them. News flashes, data streams, communications, all were monitored here for pertinent information. Nodding to the guard who kept watch over all of it, Davids walked calmly to a console staffed by a man who couldn't have been any older than twenty. His job was to monitor any radio traffic on the world and coordinate with ComStar for interstellar traffic.
Beside him sat a woman hunched over a tactical display. Just as with all commanders, Davids kept his forces on their toes running constant patrols and wargame simulations. Right now, according to the screen, his Beta detail was on patrol. This detail was made up of two lances of medium and heavy mechs whose job it was to deter any forces who might have wanted to pay the base an uninvited visit. They were due to return within the hour, and later that afternoon Delta detail would leave for patrol, giving the two lances of heavy and assault mechs a chance to stretch their proverbial legs.
Harbinger was standing on the other side of the console, waiting for him. She handed him a data disc that contained the recorded message. "The ComStar acolyte who delivered it wouldn't say much except that it had traveled a great distance." Michael nodded, already sure who had sent the message. Taking the disc, he moved to an unoccupied terminal and inserted it. After clearing security, the message appeared on his screen. Reading over it carefully, Michael frowned, then smiled, and turned back to Harbinger when he was done.
"Assemble the command lance in the briefing room. Big things are starting to happen, just as we thought."
Half an hour later the command lance had gathered in the briefing room. This room had been designed solely to brief pilots, be they mech or aerospace or even armor. In front of the chairs and desks for the pilots was a single round table. It was here that the command lance sat for most briefings, able to face the pilots as their assignments were given. In this case, they were facing the front of the room, where the holographics were displayed for the pilots. Michael entered through a side door and strode on to the stage, nodding to everyone.
"Thank you for coming here on such short notice," he began as he stepped to the computer in the corner and inserted a data disc into it. The screen flickered in front of them for a moment before resolving into the image of a planet. "Half an hour ago ComStar delivered a message that was sent to me from Colonel Matthews, who has been busy setting up Recon Satellite Alpha. As you know, our comrades-in-arms have been busy on their new assignment for almost a year now, and they are nearing completion of their task. This communiqué was received from Matthews, but it is several hours old, thanks to the HPG network used to get it to us."
He gave them a minute or two to absorb the message and the display. Finally, after several seconds, a tall red-headed man sitting at the far end of the table looked up at him. "What do you suggest we do? It would take weeks for us to make it to Kantares, and by then the Smoke Jaguar would be long gone. We certainly can't just issue a warning to the Davions that they're about to have visitors on their capitol world – that would only create panic, mistrust, and destroy all that we – I mean you – have been working on for the past several years." Commander Kent, leader of Shadow Lance, let his words speak for everyone else.
Taking his seat with the group, Michael reclined back. He'd had time to think this over, but only he truly knew what this signified. "Precisely. This is why we will do nothing but watch. As you all are aware, the Truce of Tukayyid expired a few months ago. So far, with the exception of this, the other invading clans have yet to make their moves. I think that the Davion defense forces on the planet can handle it, and our intelligence sources on the planet will provide us with a lot of valuable information in the meantime. Furthermore, our latest intelligence provided by Matthews suggests that there is only, at most, a cluster on-planet and that they are being led by Star Colonel Taichi and Star Captain Hikari. "
The sound of those two names brought everyone upright in their seats. Taichi and Hikari were two of the most famous warriors currently fighting for the Smoke Jaguar, primarily because they were extremely skilled in battle. Though the Dark Rangers had never gone into battle against them, Michael had heard from people who had. Stories of mechwarriors who defied odds and had extreme piloting skills and shooting skills had filtered through to him when he asked about those two.
"You mean…" Harbinger began but was cut off by a nod from Davids. "Yes, those two are leading this one. They didn't even declare batchall – this is like a blackop for them, which is extremely unusual for the Clans, especially a traditionalist clan such as the Jaguar. Then again, I've been waiting for the day where the Clans drop their pretenses and come in all guns blazing. The Inner Sphere has bloodied their nose several times and made it difficult for them to win under fair circumstances."
He was referring to the near-elimination of Clan Smoke Jaguar, whose forces had been almost overrun by the combined force of the new Star League. In a swift move, dubbed Operation Bulldog, SLDF forces had overrun many of the planets controlled by the Smoke Jaguar. It had taken the Jaguar eight months before they were organized enough to retaliate, but when they did so it was hard and fierce. Suddenly outnumbered and outgunned, Prince Victor Davion, regent of the Federated Suns, sent the bulk of his forces straight to Strana Mechty, the homeworld of the Smoke Jaguar. For several months the fighting reigned on the planet until the Jaguar drove the Star League assault forces off the planet. Though they had been weakened, the Smoke Jaguar had proven that they were tenacious and capable in battle.
"That still leaves the matter of what to do open for limited discussion," Michael brought everyone back into focus. "We can't deploy our forces into Davion space without a contract, even in an emergency such as this. Sending the word on to the Davions would take too long, and I think that their forces will realize soon enough what is out there. There is another option. If we send a representative to oversee the coming battle, under the pretense of negotiating a garrison contract with the Davions, we will be able to assess the situation better. I can't go – we have contractual obligations coming due and I do not wish to have my former comrades on the planet recognizing me or one of my agents."
The others seemed to contemplate this a bit. "Sounds like a good plan," Harbinger was the first to speak. "Who would you want to send?"
Michael looked around the table at the other three sitting there. He had plenty of options, though he preferred someone from his command lance. There was Harbinger, his tactical genius and one of the veterans on his force. She was also attractive, which often gave him pause. Then there was Kent, who had a good mind and eye for stealth, and was certainly no slouch either when it came to tactics. Finally, there was the fourth person at the table, an older man of about 50 years who still piloted mechs despite his graying hair and slowly-wrinkling face. Commander Shelby "Blackeye" Keith, former member of the Smoke Jaguar clan, had come to work for Michael after he had fallen to Michael's Mad Cat in a one-on-one duel while the mercenary company had been garrisoning a liberated Smoke Jaguar world that the Jade Falcon tried to claim for themselves almost five years ago. The duel had lasted several long minutes as the two giants pounded at each other, looking for weaknesses to exploit. Finally, in a last-ditch effort, Michael's Mad Cat had disabled Shelby's Daishi at the cost of half his weapons systems and two weeks in the infirmary.
It had been a worthy victory, though, as the Dark Rangers had both kept control of the planet, gained additional technology and pilots, and earned the respect of the Clan and, more specifically, Keith. He had taken Keith as a bondsman, and it was not long before the older pilot had been given his mech back again and now fought along his new family, even if he was a Clanner. His fighting skills were superb and he had the same tactical mindset as when he'd been a Star Commander with the Jade Falcon. winning the latter's respect in the process as the 70-ton mech had performed superbly against an adversary with twice the weaponry. Keith was much respected among his staff, even though he was a Clanner, and his fighting skills were still very superb even though he was older than most everyone there.
It only took Michael a minute to make his decision. "I think, under the circumstances and given that the Smoke Jaguar are involved, I want Blackeye for this one. He's the most likely to be inconspicuous, and his time with the Clans should give him additional insight."
The older man nodded at his commander. "If that is your wish, sir, I can be ready to leave immediately."
Michael nodded and smiled. "Good, I expected as much from you, my friend. You will still be paid your regular share from our upcoming assignment, and I expect you to keep me informed every day. This isn't a vacation, though – there are some garrisoning contracts that are coming up for bid with the Davions. You have full authority from me to place bids on any contracts that may come up, provided that they are close to Kantares – I want to be in a good position should things start getting difficult. You're welcome to use the company shuttle, as well. I think if you leave today you should just beat the Clanners out."
That brought a smile to the faces of everyone at the table. The shuttle was something Michael had purchased to allow transportation for the command staff when they were garrisoned or needed to travel somewhere without a large force of battlemechs supporting them. It was well-armed and shielded, though speedy—something that most royal houses carried in event of evacuations. "Any final questions?"
The older man shook his head and Michael smiled. "If you could do it without blowing our cover, I would have told you to tell my friends hello. As it is, just check up on them and let me know how they are getting along. Check in with me when you're settled in. Dismissed." The other three pilots stood from their seats, preparing to return to their duties. Blackeye made his way toward the barracks, undoubtedly to pack and prepare for his departure. Hunter gave a nod to his commanding officer and strode for the door. Michael was sure that the younger lance leader would be heading for the simulators to train. Even though he was off-duty, the former Steiner member preferred to keep on his toes. This left Harbinger, who remained standing by her chair as Michael watched the two other pilots leave the room. A part of him wished that he could have gone in place of Blackeye, but even he knew that would have never worked. Things right now were just too big for him to give in to sentimental feelings.
"What's on your mind?" She asked, catching the distant look in his eyes.
"I'm just thinking of how much I miss those other three right now," Michael replied honestly but neutrally. "It's been over a year since I've seen Clonemaster as well, though I know he's slated to return here after our garrisoning contract is finished." He made for the door and she followed.
"I wouldn't worry about it, sir," Julie responded with a smile. The two of them always seemed to share moments like these when they weren't off on assignment. "Besides, you know how Clonemaster acts. It's probably best that he's off setting up that outpost on Kantares – it would be impossible for the two of you to co-exist in the same room for even an hour."
Michael had to admit she had a point. It had been quiet since Clonemaster had gone off with a small group of intelligence personnel and computer techies to begin setting up his covert listening outpost on the Davion homeworld.
"Don't forget," she continued, "We have that company meeting tomorrow to break the news on our new contract. Ueda is probably the best garrisoning assignment we've received yet, and that has to count for something."
"Well, given that the truce expired not long ago, I'm surprised they aren't howling for more merc units with Clan experience to man the lines," he replied as they walked slowly through the tunnel, the sounds of their boots on the tile floors echoing eerily. "Then again, I guess that's to be expected. The Republic never did like mercenaries – only when ComStar set up shop on Tukayyid did they start to thaw out a bit."
She nodded. "I think they're worried. They called us in for a standard contract, offered us top salvage, and gave us three extensions on it if we choose. In fact, negotiations themselves took less time than I would have thought possible."
Ueda was a part of the Free Rasalhague Republic, and as such on the front lines of the Clan Wolf occupation zone. Garrisoned by the FRR's elite 3rd and 4th Drakon and Comstar's venerable 403rd ComGuard Division, the peaceful world had been untouched by the first waves of Wolf attacks. Fifteen years of peace had allowed the population to flourish and thrive, and Ueda was now home to large farms and small cities whose people did not know the trappings of war. Since the end of the truce some months prior, the 3rd and 4th Drakon had been on a state of high alert, preparing for the worst. After several months, the Drakon units, each composing about a third of a regiment, had been forced to stand down for repair and refit before the stress and strain overwhelmed them.
The problem with the current situation was that most mercenary units lacked the experience and size to be garrisoned on a world so close to the treaty line, especially with the expiration of the truce. Some units, such as the Kell Hounds and Wolf's Dragoons, had the proper experience and were large enough to accept contracts protecting the Draconis Combine from Clan advances in that area. Despite their small size, Daniels had managed to wrangle a lucrative contract from the FRR and ComStar to garrison Ueda. Part of the factors that had helped make the contract a reality were the Dark Rangers' willingness to jump into the fray, their favorable "B" rating from the Mercenary Review and Bonding Commission, and the fact that they had stood against six clan incursions in the past ten years. Of those six times, five had resulted in victories and the sixth a near-victory that had cost the Jade Falcon dearly.
Moreover, they were not the only military unit en route to Ueda. Well aware of the problem, ComStar had gathered up portions of two more divisions and were sending them, along with an additional mercenary unit, to pick up the Dark Rangers en route to Ueda.
"We were the logical choice for the assignment," Harbinger smiled as they re-entered the C&C room. "Everyone's been eager to get back to action since our last victory at Crimond. These last few garrison assignments have just been too quiet. "
That had been one of the Dark Rangers' more difficult assignments. The mission had started out simply enough; the Rangers were assigned to garrison the single-planet system of Crimond, a planet that lay at the border of Steiner space and the Jade Falcon occupation zone. Unfortunately for the Rangers, the Steiners had failed to provide proper intelligence and reconnaissance and one morning the Rangers awoke to find the Jade Falcon's Rho Galaxy burning into the system and declaring batchall. Michael's skill at handling the batchall had knocked the Falcons down to only one Cluster of mechs with which to attack. The situation had been aided by an overzealous Falcon commander, Star Colonel Mikos Roshak, who had bid only three Trinaries, or forty-five mechs plus their support, of his cluster of green troops into the action.
For three days, the Rangers and the local militia had fought a running battle with Roshak's forces. Relying on the knowledge of their terrain, the Rangers had been patient as they maneuvered the Falcons into position, slowly giving ground until the Falcons' left flank was pinned against the ocean. Then, on the third day, the Rangers' Shadow Lance had powered up from their hidden positions, deep behind the enemy's lines, and began rolling up the right flank of the Falcon lines. As fighting continued on into the night, the local militia broke through the Falcon lines. They and the Shadows swung behind the enemy lines, effectively cutting the Falcons off from their dropships. With no way out, the Clanners had fallen quickly the following morning as the Rangers finished "rolling up" their lines.
The results of the battle had proven costly for Rho Galaxy, who had withdrawn from the system the following morning. The Rangers had been aided by Blackeye, whose intimate knowledge of the batchall system had helped Michael immensely. The conduct of Shadow Lance had also been exemplary. After nearly a year, however, the Rangers were ready to return to the fighting now that they had added to their company a bit. Daniels didn't blame them – he knew with the truce expired he was more than ready to return to the front lines.
"Let's just hope that the Wolves don't have anything planned for Ueda," Harbinger nodded sagely. "The last thing we want is to find out that the Wolves have dropped four Galaxies and a dozen Warships on our ears. That'd be a hell of a mess to fight our way out of."
Michael nodded. "Knowing Khan Ward, though, I wouldn't be surprised if that happens. He's probably frothing at the mouth for a chance to turn his warriors loose on us."
"If that's the case, then I suggest we keep our skills sharp." The other pilot smiled at the hidden meaning.
"Are you suggesting what I think you're suggesting?" Michael smiled at Harbinger's nod. "You think you can beat me today, is that it?"
"Today or any other day of the week, sir. And that's not thought – that's fact." Julie's attitude and grin belied her cocky attitude, but the attitude only ever went as far as her CO. On the battlefield, though, she was another story. In the middle of a firefight, she could be as cold as ice and extremely efficient. It was these traits that had earned her the callsign "Harbinger".
Michael maintained his grin as he turned towards the door, motioning for her to follow. "Just keep dreaming, Captain. I think we'll use the real thing today – it looks like a nice day. Give me an hour to get my mech prepared, and then we'll have a go of it. Same wager as before?"
"Loser buys the winner dinner in town," she acknowledged as they walked down a set of stairs and through a hallway to a hatch. Opening the hatch, they exited into the clear skies of a Blue Diamond afternoon. "I hope you like eating sushi, sir."
"Then you'd better enjoy steaks, Captain. That's what we're having for dinner tonight. You and I both know that I haven't lost to you yet while conscious and feeling well, and I'm not about to break that streak."