Woo! A review! Alright, Rougebaron, thank you! And boy, does one of these guys have a secret... oh yes indeedy, hehehe *grins evilly*

Steven: Oh, great, what's he up to now?

Dmitri: I do not know, but I do not think I want to find out.

Author: Oi! Silence! Or I shall bring out my Godhammer IIC!

Steven & Dmitri: *run away screaming*

Chapter 3: Guns, Beer, and BattleMechs

Mercenary Sector

Old Connaught, Arc-Royal

The Lyran Alliance

2nd August, 3079

"Hey!" Dmitri yelled when he noticed a pair of legs dangling from the maintenance hatch on his mech's leg. "Just what do you think you are doing?"

"I'm fixing this bad hip-joint for you," Rhodes replied. "It's not broken, just fouled up. God only knows what your last tech was using to clean it."

"I do not recall asking for your help."

"Well, it's not like I've got much else to do around this place, and we don't have any techs at the moment. So what else am I going to do? Work on my tan like some of the others up on the roof?"

"I am just surprised that someone of your education knows how to repair a BattleMech. Your files said you majored in hyperspace theory and dynamics."

"Yeah, like that's going to do me any good these days." There was a loud thud from inside the Zeus. "There, that should do it." Rhodes pulled himself out. "You see, I don't exactly come from an affluent family. Only reason I got a chance to attend NAIS was because I had the smarts to be of use to someone. But I grew up around WorkMechs; my dad drove one, and he tried to save as much as he could by doing what repairs he could on his own."

"So you wanted to work as a technician?"

"Hell no! I wanted to run a pub. It's funny how life works out, isn't it? I mean, just look at the Major."

"I do not follow your meaning."

"Well, he fought against the Word of Blake during Devlin Stone's final assault on Terra at the end of the Jihad. From what I understand, though, he's from somewhere in the Lyran outback, native to one of the poorer worlds. He's probably been more hard pressed than any of us to get to where he is today, and he's seen all-out, unrestricted war first hand – something not many of us can claim to have done."

"The Major has gone through all that? I have known him longer than anyone else in this unit, and besides the fact that he was in the fighting on Terra, he has mentioned nothing of his past."

"Yeah, well, he's probably got some serious demons to face after going through all that. I just hope we all survive the fight."

"What in the name of Jesse James are you two up to?" Steven ran along the catwalk until he reached the bay that held his Marauder. "What are you doing to her?"

"We're fixing her as much as we can." Rhodes wiped his hands on a greasy rag. "We've done our best, but there's only so much we can do."

"Aff," Dmitri nodded. "We lack some of the parts and equipment to complete the job."

"Wait, what?" Steven blinked. "How much of her is operational?"

"Well, you're lucky. Most of the damage was only superficial," Rhodes explained. "I've managed to get the fire control system for the ER PPCs and the Autocannon up and running again, but the lasers are proving to be pretty temperamental. It'd be easy to fix, if they weren't different makes or if I could replace one of them. For now, just remember to double check your targeting lock when using them."

"But she's running again." Steven reached out a hand and gently rested it on the side of his BattleMech. "That's the important thing." He turned to Dmitri. "Since you have yet to recruit anyone, you'll be founding into the Command Lance with me, which means yourgonna be my XO. If I can manage to find two more recruits, I'll be dropping Six Gun into your Fire Lance, Rhodes. If not, I'll put him with me to try and get my lance as close to full strength as I can. Steele is getting command of First Company, which is you, Rhodes, along with O'Connor's people."

"Works for me," Rhodes said as he jumped down from the Marauder. "After all, I've got barely enough time to train with who I have already, let alone look for someone else to fill that last bunk."

"Alright, well, I've got to interview a new recruit Kobayashi brought in, and then I'm heading out to try and find another one he gave me a lead on earlier today. So don't wait up for me."

"Good luck, Major." Dmitri gave him a pat on the back.

"Thanks. I have a feeling I might need it."

Steven closed the door behind him and moved over to the chair behind his hardwood desk, motioning for the woman Kobayashi had found to pull up a seat as he did. Placing his arms on the desk, he surveyed her with the calculating eye of a veteran soldier. She was about the same height as him at six feet, with teal green eyes, lightly tanned skin and beach blond hair. She had her hair back into three ponytails reaching down to her knees, and she was dressed in brown cargo pants tucked into her plasteel boots, along with a black tank top. Over that she wore a dark blue jacket with gold trim, which was cropped off at her midriff. He could tell by the way she acted that she had military experience, and that was something he liked.

He picked up the file on his desk and casually flipped through it. "Ayumi Hasegawa, born November 11th, 3049 on New Samarkand, correct?"

She nodded.

"Tell me a little about yourself."

"I attended the Sun Zhang MechWarrior Academy, and then entered the DCMS when I graduated. I saw some action against the Word of Blake during the latter part of the Jihad, but not very much before my unit was disbanded due to combat attrition. I managed to take my Grand Dragon along with me, and used what cash I had on hand to come here. I've been trying to hire on with a mercenary unit ever since."

"I see. Alright, you're hired, so grab your things and find a bunk, and I'll have Kobayashi get your mech moved over to the hangar." Steven stood up from his desk and headed for the door.

"Welcome to the Sturmoviks, Hasegawa."

Striding down the street, a gust of wind whipped the hem of Steven's weathered grey trench coat around his legs, revealing glimpses of the M&G Service Auto pistol that was slung on his right thigh. He turned and pushed open the door beneath a sign that labeled the establishment as 'Marauder Bill's'. Inside, the dim lighting made it difficult to see to the far side of the interior, making dark wood paneling seem even darker than it was. Shadowed booths played host to a small number of drinkers, while a heavyset man eyed him warily from behind the bar as he cleaned out a beer mug. Above him was a framed picture of a Marauder sporting the colors of the Northwind Highlanders mercenary unit. As he approached, Steven noted that the young MechWarrior perched on machine's left foot was a dead ringer for the bartender if you subtracted thirty years and fifty kilos. Leaning on the bar, Steven glanced around before turning to the bartender.

"I'm looking for a certain someone, perhaps you know him? Goes by the name of Bourbon Bill Hickup."

The man grunted and jerked his thumb towards one of the booths near the back. Steven nodded before heading over to the place the man had indicated. Two men sat side-by-side in the booth; the first one was stocky and well-built, with short brown hair and a stubble-covered chin. The other occupant was shorter, but lean and wiry, with black hair and a clean shaven face. Walking up to them, Steven leaned on the table to draw their attention.

"Can I presume that one of you is Bourbon Bill Hickup?"

The taller one grinned. "I don't know, are you physically capable of that? Yeah, that's me, what can I do for you?"

Steven chuckled at his joke. "I just thought I'd drop by for a few drinks, have a chat, you know. Mind if I join you?"

"Not at all! Sit down, we'll get you a drink!" Bourbon waved the bartender over and told him to bring another pair of drinks over.

"Anyways, as you said, I'm Bourbon Bill. This here is my personal tech, Lo Hung. Been with me for years, he has."

Steven nodded. "Your accent tells me you're not from around here. How did you end up on Arc-Royal?"

Bourbon grinned as their drinks were set down. "Well, that's an interesting story, there." He took a swig from his beer. "Ya see, I'm a mercenary; started my career with McCarron's Armored Cavalry. That's where I met Lo, see. Anyways, served with those guys during Operation Bulldog and then in the assault on Zion. After that, I 'borrowed' a mech and took off for Galatea."

"What do you mean by 'borrowed' a mech?"

"Well, I was just preserving assets, see? Emphasis on the ass part." He chuckled. "Anyways, joined a small group of mercs headed for the border with the Falcons. When we got there, we had a real rough time – me an' Lo were the only two to get out, so we ended up here. Been looking for a new unit to join up with since then."

"Actually, I might be able to help there. I'm Major Steven McEvedy, and I'm in charge of the Sturmoviks Mercenary Command. We've been looking to find experienced recruits, and you pretty much fit the bill. What do you think?"

Bourbon chewed his lip. "I dunno, I kinda feel uneasy about joining a new unit just yet – it didn't end well the last time, y'know."

Steven nodded. "Very well.I suppose that's all good for now. But anyways, how about we have some more to drink?"

Bourbon grinned like a maniac. "Yeah!"

Several hours hard drinking later…

Bourbon swayed slightly as he finished off his latest drink, and Steven decided tomake his move. After spending the past hours talking and drinking with the man, he had him right where he wanted.

"Alright, Bourbon, I just need you to sign here, and you'll officially have joined my unit." Steven reached into his pocket and pulled out a pen and paper. Pushing them across the table, he watched as Bourbon picked up the pen and looked at the paper with a groggy expression.

"Well… Alright." He quickly scribbled his signature – right before he collapsed into a drunken stupor.

"And, checkmate." Steven smiled.

"Well done, Major."

Steven turned to Lo Hung, who had spoken only rarely during the entire drinking session. A slight smile was playing on his thin face.

"Whatever for?"

He chuckled. "Why, doing so well at recruiting my friend here. I respect a clever man, and I have to admit – outlasting Bourbon when it comes to drinking is a feat in and of itself. Congratulations."

Steven grinned. "Well, what can I say – I know how to hold my liquor."

He pulled out a stack of Lyran notes and started counting them. "I suppose you'll be coming along with Bourbon here, so I'll go pay the bill and get us a taxi while you get him picked up."

"You have a deal, Major."