Sigma Mercenaries 0001R: Initial Public Offering REVISED

by CSS Stravag

Sigma Mercenaries Mainline story beginning, REVISED EDITION. When an unknown train lands on the vegetable garden of an American Militiaman, and the happenings in the train are revealed to be wildly messed up, four Americans swing into action to save lives and bring order to chaos. Along the way, they will meet a very odd and diverse cast of peeps from all over Existence.. (Rated M)

5. Chaos and Checkbooks

(Sigma Mercenaries, Story 0001: Initial Public Offering)
(Chapter 05: Chaos and Checkbooks)

(21 March, Magi Year 14408 / Year SL 8838, 0530 Hours Local time)
(Exterior Balcony, Administration Building 4th Floor, Base Boarhound, Terra 232)
(Day 4 of campaign)

"So, if I placed the order quickly, the equipment would be ready in several hours?" Hess asked by way of the integral microphone on his ruggedized tablet.

"Correct," the Caterpillar Customer Service Rep acknowledged. "We can have them moved into ScrapNet Storage and transferred to you in four hours Lima, which is probably going to be 2.5 hours your time if I'm doing the transitional math correctly. You do have an area deployment system for ScrapNet, correct?"

"25 meters by 100 meters, with a ceiling height of 40 meters in that area," Hess acknowledged.

"If I may ask, your requirements for four wheel excavators, two trenchers, two backhoes, this is not an entirely unusual request inside Magi territory, but Terra 232 is Star League territory? Or are you doing cabling for military facilities?"

"Actually, no and yes to your questions. Yes, I am doing cabling for military facilities. Yes, the facility is on Terra 232. No, the planet is no longer Star League territory. The planet switched over to Protectorate status last night."

"Oh!" the lady exclaimed. "That explains it! You must be from the Protectorate of Sigma. I was wondering why we would receive a heads-up on some heavy-equipment purchases for you. We also have a message from Legion Commander Lightbringer: purchases for the first three months are ten percent reduced for the Protectorate, the Commandos will be picking up the remainder."

"Hard to argue with, especially with the 3 month window. I was looking at some track excavators and articulated trucks, since there will be more digging projects involved than just this first one. Add a pair of the 320-series Excavators, need both the standard bucket and the high-cap bucket. Also add three of the 730-series articulated trucks. Account information should be included with the original purchase order."

"Understood, sir, adding to the order now. Total sale and transfer price will be on your screen shortly." After a quick recalc, Hess had the new total.

"Nice. Still under two million C-bills, and everything we need for our present project," Erich said.

"If I may, sir, what exactly are you intending for this equipment purchase? I might be able to assist with structuring the proper equipment for your task."

"This task is a four-phase job. First, we trench for a fusion power cable from a building to a remote location."

"Trenchers and backhoes are perfect for that," the Caterpillar rep said.

"Second phase, at the remote site, we process a hole in the ground thirty meters long, fifty meters wide, and ten meters deep, shored up with 1-inch steel the whole way around."

"Excavators and articulated trucks," the CAT rep said. "Again, perfect equipment for the job."

"Phase three is we move some large objects into the vicinity and mount them to permanent frames attached to the iron plate shoring inside the hole. Each object will weigh 50 tons or thereabouts. Excavators can move those in, right?" Hess asked.

"Actually, no, too heavy for excavators to lower in properly. What you need is either a dedicated pipelayer machine to lift or remove these large objects, or a crane rated for 50 tons, though such heavy-rated cranes are have limitations for distance of operation. A pipelayer can do the job while maneuvering the load without the need for stationary bracing or emplacement, and can be used to lay down the fusion power cable you intend in step one without jury-rigging to the excavators."

"Works for me. Add a pipelayer to the purchase, minimum rating 60 tons."

"And your fourth phase?"

"Phase four is emplacing safety plating over the hole and equipment, as well as placing such plating in an area around the hole to facilitate safe equipment operation over a large area. The ground is already reasonably leveled, and the backhoe excavators can handle any other grading tasks," Hess said to forestall another pitch.

"And I was kinda hoping to get a grader sale out of this project," she said in a semi-joking manner.

"Happy thought, but not really necessary at this time," Hess sympathized. "You do account management, normally?"

"Indeed, mister Hess," she answered. "As well as support and parts ordering."

"Hang around, this Protectorate is going places. Lots of places. Equipment will be needed in those places, and Caterpillar is the sine qua non of hard-use equipment in my homeland. For now our industrial and construction needs are limited, but soon enough we will be expanding."

"Understood, sir. One thing before I place the order, do you have any requests for paint jobs or symbols?"

"Yes, you can leave minor manufacturer markings, but primary symbol is… uploaded now," Hess said. "Paint preference is Basic Khaki as a base color, with black highlights on articulated or working equipment. Can do?"

"Easily, sir," she said. "Anything else?"

"Not at present. I will be in touch for further purchases and recommendations," Erich said with some warmth.

"Thank you, sir. If I may, one question?" she said.

"Hit me," Hess said.

"What exactly is your position in the Protectorate?" she asked bluntly.

"I am, well, something of an all-purpose administrator. Planning, purchasing, high-level coordination, diplomatic relations, operational command, problem solving. I don't have a title, I simply operate under the callsign Sigma One."

It took the lady on the far side of the line several seconds to realize what that callsign meant. "Oh, oh wow, here I am being flip with a planetary administrator! My apologies, sir, I didn't know!"

"You have done nothing for which an apology is needed, in fact I owe you thanks for setting my processes straight. Virtue, execute purchase authorization."

"Purchase authorized at up to standard rate," Virtue reported.

"Confirmed, I show the funds released. Equipment will be prepared and ready in four hours," Account Manager Belle reported.

"Now, I have some training to conduct, so I must be going. I bid you good evening, milady. Sigma One, out." Hess tapped the terminate call control on his screen. "Virtue, as soon as the gear hits our inventory, get it ready for deployment. Time is money, and we need both."

-x-x-x-

(21 March, Magi Year 14408 / Year SL 8838, 0900 Hours Local time)
(ScrapNet Equipment Bay, Administration Building Railhead Undercroft, Base Boarhound, Terra 232)
(Day 4 of campaign)

"This is… different," Jeff Evans commented. "So, work orders, work orders," he said after he started scrolling through the list on his Maintenance Tablet. A cache of ruggedized computer tablets had been found in a storeroom, recharged and readied for use with the base integral systems. One of those systems was Maintenance Control, which is where Jeff wanted to be — fixing things, or optimally engineering things.

Enough scrolling and he found the necessary work orders for the Jump Engine project. Belatedly, he realized that it was possible to sort and filter the work orders by assigned personnel, and the Jump Engine Project work orders all had him assigned, which told him that the day would be a busy one. Even still, knowing the work order and having the equipment were two different things. The Work order system did not assign personnel to equipment or subtasks in each work order, that honor was left to the individual troops to sort out.

"Okay, Virtue, how do I draw one of the Trenchers for this job?"

"There is an icon for equipment on the work order screen. Swipe it toward the control unit for the ScrapNet system, and the Tablet will send the request to the system for you."

"Got it," Jeff flicked the equipment icon toward the controller, which went from green indicator light to yellow (processing request), then to red (executing request) and warning lights throughout the bay came active to signal incoming or outgoing material.

The ScrapNet system used the same principle of the Jumper Train Engines. A Jump Gate would form over the object to be transported, and a mirror gate would form over the area where it was to be deposited elsewhere in Existence. The two Gates would simply descend over the object, trading airspace for airspace and an object, until the gate hit the ScrapNet Floor Plate and terminated. The limitation of ScrapNet was only in the size of the floorplate that could be assembled, though it was often recommended that persons were not recommended for transport through the ScrapNet system. Weird things could happen, given the temporal-isolation nature of the ScrapNet Storage System.

The actual transfer took less than a full second to move the requested equipment from storage to the pad in front of him. "Freaking awesome," Jeff said. "And it's not Cheese Wagon (1) Yellow. Better and better," he said after he realized the paint was more along the lines of khaki or desert pink than the traditional yellow of construction equipment.

Evans climbed up into the cab of the wheel loader / trencher, sat down, and buckled himself into the four-point harness for safety. The key was already in the ignition, the fuel indicator was already showing a full tank, and he had both a quick-reference card for the controls and a comprehensive instruction manual. Two minutes of study of the quick-ref card, and five minutes looking through the manual, and Jeff figured he had an idea how to operate the wheel loader / trencher easily enough.

Unlike normal vehicles, the engine controls were a bit different on these futuristic Caterpillar machines. Jeff turned the key to 'run', lifted a switch cover next to the key, and flipped the ignition switch. Two cycles and the diesel engine came to life, so he released the ignition and slapped the cover down to prevent misuse of the starter. After a few rough cycles, the diesel engine smoothed out and appeared ready to move, so Evans put it in gear and applied throttle to take it out of the bay.

One major improvement over the Caterpillars of olden days (where Jeff and the Militiamen hailed from, 21st Century America), the newer Caterpillar models had fully-integrated electronic suites as standard, including a projected heads-up dual-phase display system. Jeff took a few moments to adjust the two phases of the display to match, but once aligned for his viewing angle, it provided full information to the operator — fuel, runtime, engine revs, hydraulic systems, and even navigation waypoints and operation instructions. "Virtue, is this machine already integrated with the Maintenance Control systems?" Jeff asked his tablet computer.

"All the construction equipment is integrated with Maintenance Control. Anything you are working on is displayed on your screens, as well as related or conflicting work orders."

"This is excellent," Jeff said. "Will it help me find my zipper if I need to take a whizz?"

"That feature is not installed on your present machine. You'll have to ask for written instructions on those procedures from TRADOC once Clint gets that department set up," Virtue answered in a clear run of sarcastic retort.

"Touché," Jeff acknowledged the hit from the AI entity. "All joking aside, is there any reason why my nav points have me going around the rails, rather than using the short path to get to the internal-base ramp?"

"Safety concerns. With Engineer Falsorth starting his Train Trap system engineering, it is safest for heavy equipment to use the designated drive lanes rather than try to cut across the rail lines," the AI entity answered.

"And no sense starting a bad habit," Jeff concluded as he continued the drive along the outside rail platform to get to the heavy equipment ramps that led to the world above. Five minutes of drive at the slow speed of a wheel loader, he arrived at the ramp and ran up to the building exterior.

Above ground level, the path was not difficult to determine. The Fusion Reactor Room rested under the west wing of the Administration Building, so the lines would start there and run roughly 700 meters north and 400 meters west to the site of the Jump Engine Pad. True to her word, Virtue had already laid out the area that Jeff would need to trench through, using the longer 5-meter trenching blade on the back of his wheel loader.

After Jeff arrived at the cutting lane, he realized something. "Uh, Virtue, the marked cut lane is too wide for my blade."

"This is expected. The cable for the power run is 50 centimeters diameter, you will need to execute three trench cuts and clean out the leftovers with a standard backhoe."

"This is definitely going to take a while," Evans commented. "Now to learn how to handle the trencher." With his seat turned around and the manual in hand, Jeff began testing his control of the trencher blade and related integrated systems. Five minutes of dry-run, he figured he had the method down. "Game time. I wonder…"

-x-x-x-

(21 March, Magi Year 14408 / Year SL 8838, 1030 Hours Local time)
(Administration Building Railhead Undercroft, Base Boarhound, Terra 232)
(Day 4 of campaign)

"This is everyone?" Engineer Mosley Goodwin asked.

"Just six of us, sir," Scott B. said.

"Now I know you're not of age yet, even by Magi standards," Mosley said. "Still, if you're handy, I think I can talk the boss into signing off on a retroactive waiver for national security purposes. What are your quals?"

"Mobile Suit, Ground Armor, and weapon systems. I worked a lot with my dad doing repairs for the mercenary unit he was attached to," Scott answered.

"Okay. You prove yourself today, I'll put in a good word with the boss. Your turn," he pointed to a lady in her late twenties.

"Manami. Basic home repair skills, willing to learn," Manami H. answered immediately after prompt.

"Sandra. Here to learn, here for the long haul, some wizardry skills for team defense," the large Sylph lady said. Mosley was hoping that her very significant bust wouldn't interfere with her sight, flexibility, or reach, but said nothing. He figured her in the neighborhood of F-cups, but also figured it possible she was above that.

"Glen. No mechanical training, but I'm in to learn the tech's trade. I am a rated Combat Mage, 70th Percentile Standard. Anything comes looking for trouble while we work, I can barbecue them," the Glen N. answered coldly. Another Sylph, Mosley recognized the sky-blue eyes and slight tint to hair, which raised a question to mind: exactly how many Sylph were intending to take this trade?

"Karin. Went to school for weapons engineering, have apprentice time working on static defense emplacements and weapons components repair. Also did some work in European-style blacksmith. Some magic skill, healing spellcraft only," Karin O. reported after Mosley looked to her.

"Before you say it, yes, I am under age, but also a Green Dragon and versed in Asian Smithworks. Here to improve on my technical talents and make sure the Boss gets this party started with a bang," Melissa H. said with a defensive edge to voice.

"Not doubting your intent, and with your being a Dragon, by default you're above age if you're physically a teen in transform," Mosley said, having learned that reality very quickly since he arrived yesterday. Dragons and Phoenix could take on a human form, and that form reflected their relative age in their natural form. A Dragon that was 14 years old in human form was likely in the neighborhood of 180 or 190 actual years old. The equation became trickier with the Phoenix, whose lifecycle loop and relative forms did not reflect the fact that they were reborn every 200 years or so, and as such a Phoenix with the human-form appearance of a toddler could actually be that young, or could actually have been voting for a thousand years. The confusion was significant, but not impossible to work through.

"This it? I was kinda hoping for a bit more of a haul," Engineer Luna Fallsorth said as he approached the group. "Still, I'll only need two persons today. Not a huge amount to my system."

"Karin and miss Green Dragon are yours, Luna. I'll need the rest for engine disassembly," Mosley said.

"Got it. C'mon, ladies, we've got a long and dirty day ahead of us," Luna said as he waved them toward the northernmost rail lines in the facility.

"Scott, Manami, Sandra, Glen, you four are going to be learning the hard way today. Glen, I want you up top in the Heavy Crane System, we will need it for most of the tasks ahead."

"Yes, sir," Glen said as he began a trot down the railhead row toward the ladder up to the crane.

"And make sure you get a safety harness and damn well use it! I've buried more friends from falls than I have for heart disease!" Goodwin ordered. "Once you get the crane activated, position it over the front engine!"

"Better him than me. I hate heights," Sandra said.

"No, you won't have heights to worry about, but you will have a lot of grody, grimy stuff to work with today. Hope you all are not afraid to get dirty," Mosley said, still remembering his last time on the Engine Repair detail five years ago.

"I like getting dirty," Manami said. "The dirtier, the better. Makes the shower at the end of the day that much more worth it."

"At least we get jumpsuits for it, even if they don't fit all that well," Sandra said somewhat archly.

"We can have procurement get them better fitted to your, erm, unusually charming figure," Mosley said. "Now, here's the thing, people. Bring up your tablets."

"Ready," Manami said after she took hold on her tablet. The other two did the same.

Mosley set his tablet into Control mode, to show them what he intended. "These Trains were designed with basic, easily-replaced equipment. They originally belonged to the Dynasty, who are not really the most tech-savvy of the Star Empires, so their equipment is borderline crude and easily disassembled. The first thing we have to do is pull off the Engine Shroud and panels, which is 5 tons of structural material." On the other tablets, they saw a 3-D animation of the shroud coming apart and off the engine housing. "Second, we disconnect the fusion engine, accumulator, and control systems. These will be removed and transported separate of the rest of the Jump Engine, which will reduce the Jump Engine weight to 40 tons or so. The Fusion Engine that powers the whole assembly weighs 52.5 tons itself, so that will need a heavy hauler to get it out to the site."

"Do we have vehicles for moving those?" Manami asked.

"I hope so, or this job is going to go tits up before we're even finished unbolting everything," the engineer said. "Virtue?"

"HEMTT 2 system vehicles have been acquired, including necessary engine cradles for the fusion engine and the jump engine. When needed, they can be deployed from ScrapNet."

"Gods, I love this job!" Mosley said. "It is so bloody nice to work for a Tech Analyst, he thinks of this crap before anyone asks about it and stages the gear for us. Okay, back on topic. Once we have the main engine assembly stripped down, we remove the connections, the bolts holding it in place, and lift it to a HEMTT trainer and roll it." That process was again animated on the tablets in 3-D for visual reference. "The rest of the train engine assembly, frame, structure panels, control cab, all that is left for the final disassembly crew. Our job is the jump engines and necessary systems, nothing more, nothing less. Any questions?"

"When do we begin?" Sandra asked.

-x-x-x-

(21 March, Magi Year 14408 / Year SL 8838, 1115 Hours Local time)
(Barracks Building FB1, Base Boarhound, Terra 232)
(Day 4 of campaign)

Clint walked into the FB1 Barracks common room, and was immediately reminded that this group was neither a military formation or really a cohesive group. They had been a loose alliance of ladies that were kidnapped into slavery or had grown up on the trains with no real formal education practice.

Thankfully, he could whistle easily and very loudly. One shrill peal of whistle and all conversation ended abruptly. "Listen up, all of you! A lot of you have registered for service in the Militia, the Rail Guard, or the Mercenary formations. As of right now, the Rail Guard is activating two teams for preparation! There are 22 in this barracks group that have volunteered, and I need twenty. Wake it and shake it, daylight is wasting!"

The process of hashing out which twenty would be involved was fairly quick. Ten of the ladies involved deferred, which turned out to be a fortuitous turnaround for Clint. He had planned on paring down the groups by a competition to determine fitness, but with that many ducking out of the first round, he figured he was ready to break them down into teams and let the training determine which group (of two) would be optimal for doing the first train clearing.

The twelve ladies that had opted to go with the plan followed Clint out to the vehicle. "Hop in the back, people, and hang on tight. I'm still getting used to driving a beast like this."

"What is this thing?" Lydia L. asked as she climbed up into the vehicle.

"Sprinter Scout Car," Clint said. "Designed for fast recon and light transport. Everyone in?"

"Yeah, we're good," Olivia Z. answered. "We're good."

Clint put some speed down to get moving from the barracks area to the METARgraphic training field on the far side of the base. "Okay, I've already briefed the first group of volunteers, so I'm going to fill you gals in as well. First off, we believe in training. You will not be sent into the trains without at least some training and conditioning. For the next seven days, you will be learning how to clear Trains, how to move, how to shoot, how and when to take cover, and how to use grenades, flashbangs, and CS. I don't expect perfection, but I will be pushing you for it. Every one of you. This is not botique training, people. This is going to push some of you to the breaking point, but the breaking point is where you need to be to improve."

"Okay, this isn't anything special, then," Lotta G. commented cynically.

"How well do you think you can handle sub-guns?" Clint asked, using an uncommon American term for Submachine guns.

"Well enough to kill a man inside the confines of a train car, why?" Lotta asked.

"How well can the lady next to you use them?" Clint continued the questioning.

"I don't know," Lotta admitted after she looked at Olivia.

"And that is a problem. If you don't know what your teammates can or cannot do, you're already on the way to defeat. If your teammate can't do her job, she's dead and chances are very good that so will you be. We Militiamen did so well in the Trains because we all knew the job inside and out — we know how to move, how to shoot, how to clear cars, and most importantly we know when to get our asses down below cover."

"Can we learn all of that in one week?" The question came from Camille L. toward the back of the group in the load bed.

"All of it? No, certainly not what we Militia have learned over the years," Clint said. "This week will be focused training. You will learn the procedure just for Trains. After the train is cleared, you will take a day stand-down, then we resume training on proper CQB. Training will be continuous for the entire Rail Guard team — the only way to stay on the razor's edge is to train like that is where you belong."

"Got it," Lotta answered.

"Remember, this first one is going to be cake and sauce. With us Militiamen traipsing through, we've done a lot of the dirty work already. The next train is going to be something different."

The Sprinter stopped in front of one of the METARgraphic Holosim fields, where a group had already accumulated. Clint shut the vehicle down and hopped out. "This building is it?" Irina H. asked suspiciously.

"Negative, this building is the field. I just haven't set it up yet for our training session," Clint responded. "All right, everyone, gather around, line up at the tables. Anyone having second thoughts so far?" Nobody answered affirmative. "Excellent. Time to set up." Clint opened up the hard cases behind himself one at a time. Each case had weapons, munitions, or gear for the troopers, but the first thing every person received was a rugged tablet computer. "First thing's first, people. These tablets are to fill in your information for identification and security purposes. If you have a Multimage-issued Codex, that will do, otherwise your information will be used to prepare one for you. This is necessary for registering the rest of your gear."

"Register it?" Olivia asked.

"Correct. The gear is issued to you. You can purchase the gear off the unit after you're paid, but until you purchase it, it is simply issued to you. You won't be penalized for munitions use, we're not tightwads, but your durable goods, such as the tablet, pistols, knives, sub-guns, those we have a reasonable expectation that you will be keeping them secured and accounted for until you purchase them or turn them in. You follow me?"

"Yes, sir! Makes sense," Megan Christenson answered.

"Make sure you fill out your information properly and to the most complete amount possible. Once you're registered, we'll start issuing gear."

"Sir, I don't know how to read or write," Amanda E. noted.

Clint nodded. "Born on the train, I take it?" he asked.

"I was, yes," she said. "My mother was sold into slavery when I was three. I was abandoned on the Train."

"We can work on that. Virtue, can you do a spoken registration?" Clint asked.

"Will do. Please step over to the front end of the Sprinter Scout Car." Amanda moved immediately after she picked up her tablet, which she had dropped in fright after hearing the voice of the Artificial Intelligence entity.

"Anyone else unable to read or write?" Clint asked.

"I am having trouble understanding some of these questions, good sir, doubtless due to more modern patterns of speech? Would it be possible to have the form redone in older script?" the oldest of the guys at the table asked.

"Was not expecting that," Clint said. "If I remember correctly, you are Sir Launcelot?" Sigma Two asked.

"Indeed, good sir," Launcelot said.

"Okay, Virtue, do you have an Old English option, say, 14th Century or in that neighborhood?" Clint asked.

"Standby one," Virtue rewrote the form using an Old English translation system that was considered dubious but reasonably close. "Should be ready, Sir Launcelot."

"Far easier to understand," Launcelot said. "I should be completed momentarily."

"Take your time, make sure your information is accurate. We can change it later, but some things may need to be explained if you want them changed," Clint said not just to the misplaced Knight of the Round Table, but to the whole group. "And yes, Pete, I know you are barely past fifteen, but for this purpose you are waived. You will have separate educational requirements, though, along with Amanda."

The paperwork segment took some fifteen minutes for the personnel to finish completely, which Clint figured was a perfect gauge of temperament. A couple were mildly frustrated, at least one was getting physically antsy, but nobody lost their shit in the process of doing the sign-up. More to the point, there was no refusal to do the sign-up. While under the law a person was not required to register with the government, under Sigma military policy registration was required to be issued anything more expensive than a throwing knife. Equipment tracking and budget requirements, Clint figured. It also helped in making sure everyone was paid promptly for their service.

"Everyone done? Good. Tablets down for now, but you will need them shortly unless you already know how to use MOLLE."

"Is that some kind of weapon?" Ikuno P. asked innocently.

"No, it is a gear set," Clint said after he started to get the feeling that this was going to be a long process. "All of you up here, grab a plate carrier out of this box, one front plate out of box seven, and one rear plate out of box eight."

"Plate carriers? Not using heavier armor?" Lotta asked.

"The Boss is running multiple armor systems through testing in the next couple of days. We're using plate carriers and Level III plates right now because we know that works against the overwhelming majority of weapons threats you will face on the Train. As soon as the boss certifies better armor systems, your gear will be pulled and better equipment issued. We're not in the business of gambling with lives here, so I don't want to send anyone into the Trains with shit gear to end up dragging your body out of the Train. Follow?"

"Understood, sir," Lotta replied immediately. She had figured the Plate Carrier idea was money-saving, but after the fact realized that it was because they knew what worked at least in their experience.

It would be mid-afternoon before the weapons were even issued, given the mixed nature of the group, but Clint figured everyone had to start somewhere. So far, the Rail Guard teams were starting in the low end, but they had their hearts and minds in the right places. He would be proved correct, but not in a fashion he expected.

-x-x-x-

(21 March, Magi Year 14408 / Year SL 8838, 1300 Hours Local time)
(Administration Building second floor, Base Boarhound, Terra 232)
(Day 4 of campaign)

"This may be the weirdest summons ever," Toni said to Sidonia. "I mean, not that Hess is doing anything major right now, just grumbling at paperwork, but it's not like Victoria to give us that kind of a terse call."

"Frustration?" Sidonia asked. "Or something else?" the trainer asked after she saw some movement in one of the conference rooms that wasn't expected. Staff was still being drawn up for the project, and not much of that staff was volunteering for the office jobs.

"Something else maybe it," Toni acknowledged at the door to Victoria's office. Two knocks and she pushed the door open a crack. "Toni here, boss lady."

"Come in, grab a seat," Victoria said. Both Phoenix and Trainer entered and took the offered office seats. "Hess told me about you. Sidonia, right? Trainer for the Secret Service detail?"

"That's what I'm aiming for, ma'am. And maybe some training for the protectees as well," Sidonia answered with a smile.

"When we spoke last, you said you wanted to set up a full Secret Service detail, Toni," Victoria prompted her.

"Yeah, I think I might know a few who would be willing to protect the big guy and the rest of the top level, why?" Toni asked.

"A squad of 'em just walked into the conference room down the hall. You probably walked past them or saw them at a distance, depending on how you came up here," Sigma Four said.

"Saw 'em at distance. What are you thinking, ma'am?" Sidonia asked.

"Nine volunteers. Three Nymph, one Sylph, two Humans, one Elven, one Copper Dragon, one Black Dragon. Combined with you, miss Phoenix, that's all the majors except a Tiger."

"And we don't have any Tigers in the unit… yet, that is. Give it time, especially if you're willing to let them in without undue hassle, they'll start pawing at the front door soon enough," Toni completed the thought.

"Roger that," Sidonia said with her own smile. "I hate these for-show gigs but the statement is needed. Badly needed, as it were."

"Something going on down in the enlisted ranks?" Victoria asked.

"I think I might have heard some rumbles from the Deltas. I don't want to name names or point fingers, though, not until I have hard proof. Or, hopefully, if I can report back with good news that it was bullshit," Toni reported.

"Well, that's your job now. Make it happen, one way or the other. As to your volunteers, I told them you'd want to brief them in before they got started, so I directed them to a conference room." Victoria made an adjustment to one of the tablets she had propped up in front of her. "Good luck, girls."

"This isn't going to be luck," Sidonia groused. "This is going to be work. Lots and lots of work."

"Roger that. Once you guys have a morning workout time set up, I want in on it. Any questions or concerns before you take a stab at 'em?" Victoria asked, and received no response. "They're all yours."

"We're on it," Toni said. Sidonia led the way to the conference room, though held position at the closed door. "Time to make it work, Sidonia," Toni said. "I hope you're ready for this one, it will get messy."

"We'll probably be going through linens at a brisk pace," the Trainer said. "Still, if we want the boss to stay in power, we need to keep him happy and keep him alive. Not sure which one is going to be more critical."

"Alive, for now. Happy becomes a problem later on. Maybe we can work on aging / de-aging by spellcraft later?" Toni asked.

"Later," Sidonia said after she pushed against the lever-lock door handle and pushed into the door. Toni followed the Trainer inside and took position at the head of the table, which had grown silent as soon as the door handle ratcheted.

For Toni, identifying the parties in question was quick and simple. The Black Dragon and the Copper Dragon were giveaways in the fluorescent lighting — their hair color said enough. The Black Dragon was certainly nothing to sneeze at, at least in her human form. How well she would do in Dragon form was another story. Miss Copper was even larger and surprisingly stacked a little bit deeper than Toni would have liked, but the flip-side was she had some telltales of being almost as out of shape as Hess. Sidonia would probably take perverse pleasure in whipping the Copper one into copper-top battery.

The two Humans were nothing to sneeze at. One was a bit physically older, but probably a couple centuries of actual age on her mind. If Toni had to guess on her, she figured likely somewhere on the borderline between Demigoddess and Lesser Goddess power, even if she would never try for such a title. The other human was physically small in every measurement, but very lean and looked to have some decent muscle on her. Toni could also sense some magic talent on her and probably a hint of some psionics. How well that translated into her duties to come remained to be seen.

Toni knew the Sylph from odds-and-ends encounters on the 523 Train. Rasine T., an older lady, utterly untrained in the use of firearms, in excellent shape if physically weak, and possessed of a very peculiar set of magic skills. Rasine had accurate knowledge of time wizardry to a sharp degree, and also had some summoning skills, but no other known spellcraft training. She would have a lot to learn under Sidonia and Hess.

Likewise, Toni also knew the Elven lady very well. Crystal X., an accomplished effect wizardry Mage, decent spellcraft power, with a lesser Magi instruction in firearms handling to go along. Physically fit, some decent strength, and could take a beating with the best of the best. She was also, very oddly for an Elven lady, a techno fiend probably to a degree above Hess's addiction to technology, and she was a most unabashed pervert, willing to sleep for a long time with multiple guys at once. Toni didn't play by that ethos, but she wasn't going to hold it against Crystal, either.

Counting Sidonia into the group, there were now four Nymphs in the room, each distinguishable by their deep-sea-blue hair, and Toni had to admit she did not know them to any significant degree. All three of the newcomers fell below Toni's size, and their physical standard varied between the three, but none of them looked far enough down the drain to beat Hess in being out of shape. That was a good thing, in Toni's estimate, because Sidonia would need a helluva lot of help whipping the Big Guy into shape. On the plus side, at least one of the Nymphs had enough magic power to rival the Greater Gods of yore, she was that far up the magic totem pole. That kind of assbeating skill was exceedingly rare, and as it happened, very handy in a defensive role when used properly.

Appraisals took roughly five seconds for Toni, after which she nodded several times in contemplation. "I won't start this off by bullshitting you. This is going to be a long, messy, frustrating position for all of us. More to the point, this job is about more than just Sigma One. If we lose any of the leadership, things will get painful fast for all of us. Follow?"

"Readily," Crystal answered with confidence.

"That said, after three days on the job, I can tell you that it will be a pleasure to work with the command team. They are not tyros, and they are not what you would commonly expect a military dictator or somesuch to be. All four are very reasonable, very hard-working, and very good listeners. Hess is also some kind of a natural trainer; hang around him long enough, he will start teaching you some pretty wild and unexpected things. This will definitely be a learning experience for everyone involved. Any questions?"

"I take it this will also be a personal experience as well?" the Black Dragon asked.

"How do you figure that in?" Toni asked, even if she knew and expected the answer.

"You said you weren't going to be bullshitting here, so it is time to be blunt. This is as much about making sure he stays sated as it is about making sure he stays alive. I could probably guess you're angling for that line, but we can't ask that entirely of you. We're all in this."

"Somebody knows their Machiavelli," Sidonia said with a bit of a savage smile.

"I do what I have to, when I need to make sure I get to see my next century," the Black Dragon said somewhat archly.

"Right idea, wrong reason," Toni said. "Your name?"

"Moira," the Black Dragon answered.

"All right, Moira, in the interest of being up-front with you all, yes, I was expecting some of that. It's not as critical as you might think, though, and it's not for seductive purpose. We don't need to seduce the boss, or anyone else on the command staff for that matter."

"How so? They'll side with the humans — " the Copper Dragon said, but was cut short by a look from Toni. "What? You think he won't?"

"I've been inside his mind while he was asleep," Toni admitted. "He has no loyalty to Humankind in the great human-nonhuman debate. He's pretty well convinced that it is all racist bullshit, and he expects he will have to defend nonhumans from genocide at some near point in the future. First lesson for the Secret Service: your protectees are American Militiamen. These guys do not think like anyone else you have ever dealt with, except maybe an Executor."

"So, if that's the case, why should we have to worry about sleeping with them?" one of the Nymphs asked.

"Two of them you won't have to. Clarence and Victoria are married; they'll keep each other happy, our concern is keeping them alive. Clint and Erich are the two we may have to focus on, but not for saving our hides as a purpose. We keep them happy, we keep them alive, we keep ourselves a job and we make sure we have reasonable guys at the helm writing reasonable national policies. Follow?"

The Copper Dragon sighed. "It is good to know we are off the hook, but staying that way will be difficult," she said. "Still, I'm not in this just to save my hide. I'm in it for some fun, and to see how big we can get the Protectorate. Moira is the Machiavellian one in the crew."

"Oh, we'll be pushing things long and hard," Sidonia said. "Who knows? We keep them at the helm long enough, you diddle around at the right times, your kids may be living under a proper society," she fronted.

"That could be a good thing," Moira said, suddenly changed of her mood.

"Lesson two of the Secret Service: what we do, on duty or off duty, we do not discuss with anyone outside the protectees and the Secret Service. Keep one thing in mind going forward: nobody knows what we do. Stealth is essential to keeping the command level safe. Stealth is essential to keeping our honor intact. Stealth, skill, honor, devotion, diversity will be our driving motivations in this unit. Any objections to that list?"

None of the ladies said a word against the principles.

"Your personal involvement with the Boss is optional, same with Clint. That said, if you do go there, take it slow. Americans don't jump into relationships with any major speed," Toni advised the group.

"Roger that," one of the human ladies said.

"We will do this on rotating stations, two persons guard detail per Sigma Callsign, starting tomorrow. The three that are not on callsign guard will do either a stand-down day off, or will do night-shift patrol on the 4th floor. Now that we have that squared away, time to gear up and get ready for your operations."

"Gear up?" Moira asked.

"Oh yes, gear up. These Plate Carriers are not a joke. Lesson three of the Secret Service: we are, and forever shall be, professional gear whores. That, and a few of you are very improperly dressed for guard detail, such as the two Gem Bikinis and one Seashell Bikini. Definitely not going to fly for guard detail, no matter how liberating it feels."

-x-x-x-

(21 March, Magi Year 14408 / Year SL 8838, 1330 Hours Local time)
(Hess' Quarters, Administration Building fourth floor, Base Boarhound, Terra 232)
(Day 4 of campaign)

"Okay, I have settled on the Apache IIM R3 as our primary heavy attack Helo. Comes out to twelve tons stores on the craft plus the weapons turret. Not a customer I would want to dance with," Hess said.

"No shit, boss," Clint said. "Okay, that is our aerial fang for now. We need a medium-purpose helo, a heavy-lift helo, and maybe something light for recon purposes?"

"If we need to do recon, for now we'll do it with the medium-purpose craft. We need to make sure we get something extensible, kinda like the Soviet Mi-24, maybe? Usable for transport and for gunship duty."

"Some days, you think more like a Russkie than I do," Clint said with a smile. "And I spend too much time in that mindset entirely."

"If the Russians had not gone spiky in the 1920s, and completely skull-fucked communist in the late 20s or 30s, it might not have been a bad business for them."

"Whoa, scroll back up on that list, Virtue," Clint said. "That's different. Show the entry for the Chinook II-F, please."

"Familiar name," Hess said. "Whoa, definitely a looker," Hess said after he saw the base stats in question.

"Jesus, it's like someone took a 47-D, fattened it up a bit, slapped on a fusion-electric drive system, and said 'fly free and wide'. Price tag is fucking awesome, too, at 876,000 C-bills per craft. That's what, 2.6 million per machine in American dollars?"

"Closer to 2.7 than 2.6, but it beats the pants off the Army acquisition cost of 35 million a bird in 2013," Hess said. "59 for sale."

"Vandren VTOL services? Virtue, what do you have on that outfit?" Clint asked, then took a bite out of his chicken parmesan. The galley had been kind enough to package two meals and bring them up for Hess and Clint, which bypassed the need for the MREs that were sitting at the far end of the table.

"Standby, inquiring now," Virtue answered.

"Check it, they have another offering," Hess said, waving a laser at another entry on the list. "There's our boy. Roadrunner Medium-duty helo, heavy lift in the Chinook, I think we have a winner here."

Clint read through the new specs quickly. "That's a step up from the Blackhawk, definitely. Five tons internal cargo cap, 7.5 tons max external cargo, for a combined total of 12.5 tons lift cap per bird."

"Top speed on max internal load of 162 kilos per hour, meaning this thing can book it a bit. Fusion engine with internal reservoir for 30 hours flight. Damn thing could fly from Lexington to Los Angeles to Seattle and still have fuel in the tank," Hess calculated the distance numbers into real-world distances in his mind.

"And it's still a fuck-ton cheaper than a Blackhawk," Clint said. "421K C-bills per craft, or 1.26 million dollars. Almost makes flying affordable."

"Shit, son, you put helos like that in the sky, you'd wipe out the existing commercial helicopter business model overnight. Think about it: you fill the tank on this thing with dirty fuel, you know, tap water or distilled water, you get thirty hours run time. You put proper fusion engine fuel in it, like a Fusion Engine Polymer, you fill the tank on Sunday and fly it all week before the FAA says you're on mandated crew rest," Hess said. "And a tank of FEP for this thing would cost you a hundred bucks. To even start up the engine on a Bell Jet-Ranger helo will cost you more than that."

"Teehee," Clint giggled like a schoolgirl, wondering internally what it would take him to get a pilot certification for helos.

"Data has been returned on Vandren VTOL Services," Virtue reported.

"Listening," Hess said.

"Vandren is a startup that tried busting into a market that didn't exist. Soliciting for low-end noncombat helo craft, Vandren built 200 units of the Roadrunner and 65 units of the Chinook II-F, but only sold 84 and 6 respectively. They have an inventory nobody wants, a manufacturing base that sits idle, and the company subsists on life support at this time. Their only notable business is providing for-contract MRO (2) services for Boeing-Federated products, including being one of four MRO companies frame-rated for the Apache IIM series of attack helicopters."

"Perfect," Hess said with a savage smile.

"Oh shit, now what?" Clint asked in dread. When Erich took on such a demeanor, Clint worried; it usually presaged some manner of nefarious strategic maneuvering from the Boss.

"We have a winner the whole way around. They build what we need for lift cap, they fix our attack birds, they fix our lift birds, I believe we have the whole shooting match in one package right there. Virtue, please place a Micro Gate Laser call to Vandren, I believe it is time to make them a very good business offer."

"Stand by, initiating call now." The process took ten seconds. "Call has been accepted with all charges on our side. Connecting systems in five seconds."

The screen popped live at the appointed second. The view was a thoroughly unimpressive small office area, a lady with not much in the way of morale in her demeanor, and a window that overlooked a hangar space behind her shoulder that was presently empty.

"Thank you for calling Vandren MRO and Manufacturing, how may I route your call?"

"Your chief executive if he is available, or chief of operations if otherwise," Erich said calmly.

"May I inform him who is calling?" the secretary requested.

"Erich Hess. My title is Sigma One; I am the head of state of the Multimage Protectorate of Sigma," Hess declared himself.

"Oh, understood," the admin assistant said with some shock. "Please hold," she switched the feed over to a hold screen, complete with elevator muzak and some orthographic illustrations of the Roadrunner Multipurpose VTOL.

"Sounds more powerful in voice than it does in reality, amigo," Clint said with a giggle.

"We do what we can, we make it sound sharper when we cannot," Hess said with gravity.

The screen popped into an office view that was possibly more cluttered and dingy than the initial view of the secretary's post. "Good morning, mister Hess. Vincent Vandren, CEO and COO of Vandren MRO. How may I help you?"

"Well, sir, to be blunt and to the point, I have need of lift capacity, and I have need of MRO and line service for the AH-364A aircraft I just purchased from Boeing-Federated, and I will undoubtedly need service on the lift capacity I shall be purchasing. Vandren, oddly enough, provides all of the above, and provides all the above without making it cost-prohibitive, unlike the offerings from Boeing-Federated."

Vince Vandren almost gagged at Hess' intention. "You're referring to the Roadrunner and Chinook II-F? If I may ask, what is drawing your attention to those platforms?"

"I need no-bullshit lift capacity. I don't need a light attack chopper masquerading as a cargo aircraft, such as the Kiowa-C offered by Boeing. The Roadrunner Multipurpose VTOL does the same thing Boeing-Federated's Light Horse chopper does, flies faster and costs roughly 35 percent less. And, despite industry bleatings about lack of arms and armor, your Chinook II-F is the only current-production offering in the heavy lift capacity. Fifteen tons internal lift is something very hard to argue with, if one is not looking for One Chopper To Rule Them All."

"Okay, that's not what I was expecting to hear at all," Vince said. "If you'll excuse the blunt return, you are something entirely different from what I expected. No-bullshit lift capacity, mobility over firepower, that's not industry trend. Since you're not playing by the industry scoreboard, you're thinking something entirely different. I'm listening."

"How much do you know about a Star League world, Terra 232?" Clint asked.

"Not much, it was briefly famous in the news for going to Hell in a hurry after the Star League bailed out. Is there more to the story then made the 1900 hours news cycle?"

"Hell yes there is more. It's not public widespread yet, but the Star League no longer has dominion over this planet. The Multimage Protectorate of Sigma has taken over, and we have long-range plans. Several long-range noisemakers that require mobility, lift capacity, and reliability to a degree that would cause Boeing-Federated's engineers to soil their tighty-whities. And we're on a budget, unlike Boeing's usual clientele."

Vince stared at the screen in front of him for several seconds, then pursed his lips for several more seconds, then blew something akin to a raspberry. "Okay then," he gaped after the thought sunk in. "You're a Protectorate that is trying to expand, you need raw lift, not combat lift, and you need maintenance for both that raw lift and for some attack birds?"

"Affirm to all of the above," Hess acknowledged the corporate officer's readback as completely accurate.

Vince grimaced and nodded several times in contemplation. "See, normally, this is the point where someone pinches me and wakes me out of the dream, but below the desk edge I'm digging a letter opener into my left leg and I'm not waking up. If you'll excuse my cynicism, sir, I've been sitting on the aircraft inventory you're looking at for about a decade, with four airframes sold total in the past eighteen months. I was beginning to think I would have to write my inventory into my will, so my daughter could finish selling them off after I'm dead and buried."

"Oh, I think you misunderstand, Director Vandren. I am not simply doing purchase, though that is both the starting transaction and bona-fide for the second phase. When I say I need lift and mobility, I'm not just talking for a hundred-sixty helos. I need LIFT, as in, five digits worth of airframes at final expectation, not counting attrition or combat losses. I need a group that can both provide the airframes and can maintain them through the coming shitstorms that we will be operating in. In short, I need the total package, and I need someone with the hardness to deliver, first time, every time. Now, did I dial the right number, or do I need to keep looking?"

"Okay, then, that gauntlet just made a loud sound when it hit the table. Lay it out for me, sir, what are you asking, and what are you offering?" Vincent Vandren asked.

"I will start by completely purchasing out all assets for Vandren. Your last finance sheet shows inventory and assets totalling 125 million, with roughly 100 million of that wrapped up in the leftover unsold airframes. For the Protectorate, that's actually a fairly small purchase given the expect on return. That takes you completely out from under your liabilities, which will make phase two a lot easier a call to make."

"Listening," Vincent said.

"Phase two, I have your entire company moved from your present location to the Aerospace Factory Block in Base Boarhound on Terra 232. From there, you have manufacturing capability, MRO service capability, and you're behind a solid spread of static defenses and militia forces for security purposes."

"Okay, whoa, that's a loud stick to wave, sir. How am I going to do MRO for other groups from a cut-off world?" Vince asked.

"One moment." Hess looked up to the speaker above his head. "Virtue, traceroute this transmission. Is any part of it susceptible to intercept by Star League parties, or anyone connected to said bastards?"

"Negative, the link is secured and does not pass through any Star League territories or equipment," Virtue answered.

Hess looked back down to the monitor on the south wall. "Okay, here's the deal. I am presently working on a transportation solution that takes conventional Dropship travel out of the equation for the most part. It is the cornerstone to multiple of my plans, and is derived from the technologies in use on the Jumper Trains. If you sign into the plan, you will have access to this transport system at cost, and you can use the transport system to both take possession of craft you need to work on, and deliver them back to the clients."

Again, Hess' declaration caused Vincent to gag. "You're using the Jumper Train engines for static material or personnel movement? Okay, I revise my last. You are not something entirely different, you are something entirely wrong, a guy willing to break all the rules and do it with a smile. I hope you know what you are getting into."

"I will not discuss particulars due to matters of classification, but I can tell you I have high-level protection from the Magi and the Executors for these matters. If you sign into the arrangement, I will make the case that your operations are under that protection as a critical contractor to existing forces under the Sigma banner," Erich explained.

"Okay, that's what I needed to hear to make this feasible. I'm going to assemble my staff and brief them on your offer. If they say 'go', we'll begin the processes before the end of day today. Thank you for the offer, Sigma One. I will call you back within the hour."

The monitor cut off with the termination of the link. "What do you think?"

"Empty hangar behind the secretary. He's not getting much in the way of MRO work, either," Hess answered the question from Clint.

"So, we just gave a dying business a chance to revive itself as a MRO for Sigma? Shit, boss, you are one strategically hard mo-fo," Clint said.

"It's what I do," Hess said with a smile.

The speaker above the table popped. "Incoming collect call, Vandren MRO," Virtue declared.

"That was, what, thirty seconds?" Hess asked, to which Clint nodded. "Accept charges and connect," Erich ordered.

The view this time was a little bit better, but still quite a bit dingy. The main change, though, was a table with six filled chairs: the CEO, the secretary, and four mechanics in dingy jumpsuits. "Sigma One, CEO Vandren. We have a couple questions before we accept or quash your offer. First, are we allowed to grow our outside business, or are we locked into service for Sigma?"

"I was expecting you to exploit the available facilities and staff to draw in outside contracts," Hess said. "I held no expectation of single-contract exclusivity, and I welcome you doing external business, helps grow your capabilities that Sigma will have to call on eventually."

"Thank you. Misty?" the CEO deferred to the mechanic to his right.

"Sigma One, Misty Smith. I'm rated for Armor, Mechanical, Avionics, and Weapons. Do you have facilities for further education?" she asked.

"Sigma itself does not, though I am considering a Networked Learning System for the facility. It would be dead simple to have any of the major Universities provide training by HPG, if I get the necessary facilities set up," Hess answered.

"I'm game. Henry?" she looked across the table to one of the other mechanics.

"Henry Jotone, sir. I'm going to drop in as a Mechanic, but I did combat vehicle for the Magi for ten years. You have any objection to re-hiring a veteran?"

"If you want to sign up, more power to you," Clint took that answer. "Just be warned, we're not a defensive group. We're going looking for shit, and when we can't find any, we stir up some shit from the pot as needed. Hope you're willing to get messy."

"Hell yes, I'm in. Alice?" the mechanic deferred to the secretary sitting next to him.

"I have three daughters, ages 3, 4, and 6. Daycare available?" she asked.

"Okay, that could be a complication," Hess said. "I don't have anything official set up for daycare, but I also have a feeling it will be needed soon."

"I have a suggestion," Virtue said. "Several of the Bravo Mafia who have handed in their commissions may have a solution to the child care and education issues. They are working on reactivating one of the on-base schools for that purpose."

"There you go," Hess said.

"Okay, I can do it," Alice said.

"Plan is a go, Sigma One," Vincent Vandren said. "As soon as you're ready to make the purchase, let's begin."

"Virtue, draw up the documentation. Keep in mind, we are still setting up the transport system, so it will be several days for you to prepare for transport. We will be in touch. As soon as you sign off on the documents you will be receiving shortly, we will begin movement. Welcome to the Protectorate of Sigma."

-x-x-x-

(21 March, Magi Year 14408 / Year SL 8838, 1515 Hours Local time)
(Barracks Building FD-02, Base Boarhound, Terra 232)
(Day 4 of campaign)

"Building FD2, Delta Mafia, Similar thinkers, and some refugees from the train," Toni explained. "You sure this is where we'll find them?"

"Aye, according to Virtue, this is where the two pilot candidates bunk in," Hess said. "You want to hold out here, your call. Sounds like you don't trust the denizens."

"I don't. Careful, big guy," Toni said with some clear fear to voice.

"Yeah, looks legit," Hess said, of which he had let her in on the reasoning behind that phrase and how the Claiborne County Militia used it to mean the exact opposite.

The one guy at the door braced to attention as Hess approached, which he didn't really expect but took it in stride. "As you were, sentry," Erich said as he pushed into the barracks common room.

Inside the building, the environment reminded him not so much of barracks as it did a dive or grungy frathouse. The occupants could have resided in either, so far as Sigma One could tell.

Before Erich opened his mouth to blow a significant whistle and get their attention, someone beat him to it. "SIGMA ONE ON DECK!" A lady shouted after she realized who was standing in the doorway.

The shout brought everyone to their feet, though not into lines or columns as of yet. Hess figured it was a start, but left some bit to be desired. And, as these things happened, it also brought focus to something that Erich was thoroughly expecting, but not welcoming at this stage of the Protectorate forming up.

"Well well, the big guy himself. Come to rally the troops for some quest, have we?" a Delta Mafiosi said as he slow-paced into the center aisle between bunk-bed sets. On the far side from Hess, the guy twirled an aluminum baseball bat, which Hess remembered was a favored weapon of actual Mafiosi in the 20s and 30s for close-in work.

"Yeah, looking for anyone flight-certified, Helo, Air, Aerospace, we're forming up an air mobility and air combat command. Anyone that has a type rating, step outside and speak to Toni," Hess said.

"Whoohoo! Airborne again!" A lady shouted as she headed for the door with another person. She was part of a knot of Phoenixes hovering in one area of the barracks, not really isolated from the others, but not intermingling, either. The other departure was Elven, a guy older than Hess by a degree.

"Huh, that's an interesting one, air mobility. Oh, wait, that's obvious! You need a helo lift to get your fat arse up to the apartments on the fourth floor. Should have realized that sooner."

Hess simply chuckled at the lame attempt at an insult. "Anyone else in here with flight quals?" He asked the remainder of the barracks. "And I know you did flight-capable MS in your military career, Timothy, but right now we're not deploying standing armor. Soon enough, though."

"Got it, sir," Timothy said. "Whenever you need it, I'm ready."

"You'll get a call when I start deploying Mobile Suits. Until then, have a good day, Gentlemen and Ladies."

Hess turned and took a pace toward the door before an impact sound of an aluminum baseball bat echoed against the metal roof pillar in the middle of the barracks room. "Wow, not only is he terminally fat, he's gutless. Don't you know when someone's calling you to battle, Fatso One?"

"You haven't said anything today that I haven't heard in triplicate before today, fuckwagon," Hess answered. "If you want to get my attention, you need some better material. And a real weapon. Now, have a good day."

"You watch your fat ass, boy. One of these days, I will vacate you from your ill-gotten position."

"One advisory, mister fuckwagon. When you get ready to shoot me in the back, you make damn sure you don't miss," Hess cautioned him.

"Or what? You'll cry about it?" the antagonist asked.

"If you miss, I will not." Hess said nothing more, he simply pushed through the barracks doors and out to the staging area. "And one from the Bravos," Hess said after he stopped in front of the group.

"Anne F., my liege. Rated for atmospheric flight, any craft weight. Find me some wings and I'll take you wherever you want to go," the Bravo Mafiosi declared herself.

"Ainsley M., Aerial Phoenix, rated for commercial wide-bodies and narrow-bodies up to 50 tons," the blue-haired lady in the group listed her position.

"Nice," Hess said. "Willing to up your game, Ainsley? I need both light attack pilots and heavy transport. Light attack for clearing threat parties, heavy air transport for, say, bringing a strike team into a remote airfield with vehicles."

Ainsley smiled. "As long as the concrete is long enough, I'll take a team anywhere you want it."

"And the odd man out?" Hess asked of the third, who both looked and sounded like an American.

"Beck, sir. Flew the UH-1W Whiskey-Cobra in Gulf One, retired in '98. I don't know jack about Star Empire airframes or weapon systems, but for what you're planning, I'm willing to learn."

Hess smiled. "Damn good to have a Marine Aviator along for the ride. I can tell you right now, you're in for an upgrade and, pardon the expression, a crash-course in Star Empire attack helos. Done any study on them so far?"

"Some. Wouldn't mind having my hands on one of those new Apache IIM R3 units, sir. Six tons external stores, twin lasers in the chin turret, and the armor to take hits from tanks without flinching? That's an aviator's wet dream." He jolted a bit when Hess passed him a tablet as they walked. "What's this?"

"Full manufacturer primer for you on the 364A. I just bought four of them from Boeing-Federated. As soon as you find someone you're willing to train as a gunner, give me a shout and I'll break one out of ScrapNet for you."

"That easy, sir?" Beck asked.

"Depends on what you define as 'easy', amigo. Err, if I may ask, what was your rank prior to retirement?" Hess countered his question, given he felt weird about not knowing his rank.

"Retired as a Major," Beck answered as they approached the main thoroughfare to the Admin building.

"Squadron command?" Hess asked, given the rank Major was on the low end for a Squadron command.

"No, sir, just a Flight command, six helos. Four Whiskey-Cobras and two Seahawks with assault infantry," the Major answered.

"Well, if you are willing, once I have a full Helo team going, I may need experienced personnel in command positions. This job is entirely volunteer, no obligation. If you want a ticket home, I can get it. If you want to hang around, clean house on this planet, or make a buck flying merc detail, also welcome. You have family you want to bring in from your homeworld, that can be arranged. Same goes for you two ladies," Hess indicated Anne and Ainsley.

"Hell with that, sir," Ainsley said with a smile. "I'm in it for the green. Put me where I can make buck, and I'll make everyone rich."

"I'm in it to fly, my liege," Anne said. "The more craft I can learn on, the better."

"Might bring my family in, but it's not critical right now. They're safe where they are, once we secure the world, I'll bring my wife and kids here to see if they would like it," Beck said. "If not, we can discuss options at a later time."

"Welcome to Sigma, ladies and gentleman," Hess said with a smile.

-x-x-x-

(21 March, Magi Year 14408 / Year SL 8838, 1800 Hours Local time)
(Mess Hall North, Base Boarhound, Terra 232)
(Day 4 of campaign)

"Move it up, move it up! This turkey roast ain't got all day!" Chef Edea half-shouted.

"Oscar Mike!" Maia C. half-shouted as she hot-footed the 32-pound turkey over to the butcher table for Chef Wheeler to carve fresh for the diners.

Wheeler, Edea, and Napea were three self-taught cooks from the Train that had joined Hess on the way out of the Train. Two more, Dante and Senta, had joined Hess' 'trailers' early on and taken up staff positions in the Administration Building galley. Of the various refugees, Maia and Alcina, two wildly different ladies, had decided to try their hand at cooking under the self-taught Mess Staff. Between the five of them, they were easily able to keep up with demand for the refugees and the budding Sigma staff.

"Need potatoes! What's the status?" Napea asked.

"Ready for mashing now," Edea answered calmly. "You understand the process, Alcina?"

"I think. Drain potatoes, transfer to industrial mixer, beat slow, add sour cream, butter, and small amount of salt, beat medium until thoroughly mixed. Did I get it right?" she asked.

"Correct, now make it happen," Edea said.

"Man oh man, this is a different job from train detail," Napea said as she selected a large (10-kilogram) shipping unit of Romaine Lettuce for the salad bar. The Food Storage Unit locked up, processed the transfer from the Star League Pocket Storage, then unlocked once the lettuce had arrived.

"We're making it a reality, and we're feeding the troops. That's what counts," Edea said. "How's Wheeler holding up?"

"He's doing good, but says he might need another beef roast for carving," Napea said.

"Beef Roast? On it," Maia said. She entered the necessary information into the Food Storage Unit, waited the customary ten seconds, and extracted the 10-kilo beef roast for cooking. "This will take a while."

"Already have one in the oven," Napea said. "I figured the beef would go fast."

"Potatoes are done," Alcina said. She had cleared the mixing bowl, dispensed one tray worth and set aside, and the other two 15-kilo trays she wrapped for hot-storage. Mashed Potatoes were quickly turning out to be a favorite for the dining bar, so…

"What's your story, Alcina? You don't strike me as the type of person foolhardy enough to get on the train willingly," Chef Edea asked.

"Hell, Sigma One didn't strike me as foolhardy at all, and he still got on," Napea pointed out fairly while she adjusted her minimizer bra for better placement.

"American Militiaman, girl," Edea reminded the decade-younger Napea. "The big guy thinks wildly different."

"Different? Oh hell no, he thinks on a whole 'nother level," Alcina said. "And after seeing him in action, man am I ashamed of what I used to be."

"Well, we're listening," Napea said as she cleaned cucumbers for chopping for the salad bar.

Alcina slipped the second tray of mashed potatoes into the hot-store racks and closed the warming box up. "Got thirty kilos of mashed potatoes ready for the dinner rush. What's next, chief?"

"Cutting board and carrots," Napea waved to the cutting board next to herself. "You were saying?"

"I was a British subject from the 1980s," Alcina said. "What I meant about being ashamed of my past, well, I was part of the top percentile in my classes, headed for Oxford after high school, and I spent my free time harassing the school's nerds. Myself and a couple of the other upperclassmen, we were right bitches to the genius students, but there was one I particularly enjoyed stringing along. In hindsight, the guy I was tormenting reminds me so much of a younger Hess, it frightens me to think I was playing with dynamite all that time. If Clarence was half as capable as Hess is, that's frightening and definitely shameful. Probably wrecked the guy's self-esteem permanently, or gambled on becoming an unsolved murder."

"Live and learn, sounds like," Napea said. "At least you admit it. I've known ladies that never outgrew that adolescent tormentor stage, and they paid dearly for it when they tried running the gauntlet through an unforgiving society," the Nymph Cook said. "So, what brought you to the train?"

"My parents and I were on a highway north of Leeds when the Train dropped in roughly fifty meters in front of the car. I had enough time to shout 'shit' before our car plowed into the side of the engine. I blacked out on the prang, and when I woke up I was in a seat car getting scrogged in the bum by a slaver," she said. "I spent four weeks in captivity, until I was able to distract the slaver and escape, then I joined up with a Young Mafia unit and helped them along for protection. Ten months later, Hess offers me a way out."

"Sorry, shouldn't have pressed," Napea said.

"Don't be, I'm not," Alcina said. "This year on the Train has been a monumental wake-up call for me. I was never in danger from the Troubles with the IRA or anything like that, had a good education, good future prospects, and was a ruddy bitch about it. It took me a week to get over the shock of being enslaved, and three weeks to completely understand what was going on, but it's changed my life for the better I think. It's not every day you go from being top of the class to being bottom of the slave-chain, and seeing the real world through naïve eyes either breaks a woman, or it corrects the problem. And now I'm out to correct the problem, or at least feed the troops that will correct the problem," Alcina said.

Edea scraped off the chopped carrots from Alcina's cutting board. "You said woman deliberately, emphatically," Edea prompted her. "Why?"

"The slavers never hit me at the right time, and after I escaped I was a bit of a touch-me-not, but I met a nice guy in one of the Delta groups, Telly was his name, and he and I shacked up for a few nights after he broke through my resistance. Very nice guy, but quiet. I can tell I'm pregnant, probably due here in about six months or so," Alcina said as she scraped the last of the carrot bits onto the serving platter. "I wonder if he made it off the train."

"What are you going to do about your child?" Edea asked. "Oh, next roast is ready, Maia, you're on again."

"Got it," Maia answered with a smile. "Congratulations, Alcina!"

"I'll do what my parents needed to do, but didn't. The child growing inside of me will not grow up to be an asshole or bitch. I'm going to make sure he or she grows up to pull their own weight and do right unto the world, because this world needs it," Alcina said. "And in the mean time, I am going for the top in the Sigma Support Staff, I want to make sure the troops are getting the best food I can deliver to keep them fueled and kicking arses."

"If Telly pulled through, you need to find him, see if he's willing to make it permanent, and get yourself a BEQ house. Very Nice guys are hard to come by," Edea said. "And I agree, congratulations, and may we both have many more," the chef said.

Alcina tipped her glasses to the elder chef. "You as well?"

"In about seven months would be my guess," Edea said. "Not a clue who with, I've been around the block a few times, but this is my first. And Napea is farther along, about what? Four months from now?" the elder chef prompted the much-younger Nymph.

"Four months, five months, somewhere in there," Napea said. "I don't think Sigma One realizes it yet, but just in this group of refugees, I'm guessing he's got somewhere north of thirty ladies in varying stages of childbearing. Hope he has a plan for that."

"Remember, Sigma One thinks on a different level," Alcina said with a raised knife to signal the point. "I'll bet he not only has a plan, but has assets working toward it as we speak."

-x-x-x-

(21 March, Magi Year 14408 / Year SL 8838, 1815 Hours Local time)
(Mess Hall North, Base Boarhound, Terra 232)
(Day 4 of campaign)

"Jeff Evans! Over here, man!" Engineer Luna Fallsorth waved him toward a table in the back of the cafeteria area.

Jeff and Cynthia diverted from their intended table to join Luna, Mosley Goodwin and his wife, Victoria Williams (without her husband — Jeff knew he was conducting a business transaction of some kind), and a lady that neither Jeff nor Cynthia recognized.

"How much do you have trenched so far?" Mosley asked after the pair took their seats.

"One full pass, part of a second," Jeff answered. "Should have the rest done by end of day tomorrow."

"Excellent. We have three of the engines pulled in cradles, two more to go for the first train, and we can start installing the system sometime tomorrow. We can power them initially off the 400-rated Engines that were in the train frame, but if you really want to close escrow on this plan, that power feed from the base reactors is a requirement."

"Oh yeah, we definitely need the juice for the engines, if only as a safety precaution," Jeff agreed. "It's why I'm making sure this cable run is done right. Anyway, how many engines are we going to put in place?"

"Hess hasn't said how many. The internal systems can handle 128 total daisy-chained, but there's nothing stopping us from giving them an upgrade," Mosley said. "Wouldn't surprise me if the big guy rode that limit hard — not like we're going to be hurting for the engines by the time this is done."

"What is the length of the largest train?" Cynthia asked after a moment of silence at the table.

"I want to say 3000 cars? Similar?" Engineer Goodwin said. "Would be 75 engines in a train of that size."

"At that size, the train would have the population of a small city," Luna half-whined. "I hope he has a solid plan for refugee relocation, or two good-size trains would overcrowd this base."

"Outside this base is a good-sized city," Jeff pointed out fairly. "If we can get some real organization into the mafiosi, get them to give up their protectionist ties for the solid security of the Protectorate, we might have the beginnings of a security force."

"They will need a good show of force," the hitherto-unidentified lady said. "Oh, my apologies! Have not introduced myself. Karin, I have been working with Luna to set up the Train Beacon. We will have the first rail powered and ready by tomorrow evening."

"Still, this isn't what I convened this dinner party for," Mosley said, then tapped his glass lightly with a fork to create a glass bell sound. "Ladies and gentlemen, we have a movement we need to begin."

"Okay, I'll nibble. What's the game plan?" Luna asked.

"Order in the court of engineer's judgment," Mosley said while tapping the glass a couple more times. "Let me explain the situation before we get to the gameplan, Engineer Falsorth."

"Well get on with it!" Luna said in some exasperation.

"Okay, time for some Gods' honest truth. The Boss has the right idea, but shit equipment for it. Granted, I will admit there is some brilliance to dish out in his extant purchases, but with all things Military, there are specific places for specific systems and they don't always cross-craft properly."

"Okay, you're waving a loud stick there, comrade Goodwin," Luna said in a horribly-inaccurate faked Russian accent.

"Perfect example: the Apache IIM R3. As a tankbuster, holy fuck. Thing can truck in enough missiles to swiss cheese a battalion of Successor State armor, or a regiment of pre-spaceflight tanks. Has the armor to take a hellish beating, too, especially when compared to most other VTOL gunships. Downside? Mission flexibility is hampered by its limited engineering focus, and the damn thing costs as much as a 40-ton bare-bones battlemech. See where this is going?"

"The on-the-market gear limitations are going to screw us in the long run?" Karin O. asked.

"They'll get us killed. Too much cost, not enough return on that cost. Oh, sure, we'll need some of those systems for fighting Successor State and Star Empire Contracts, and we'll need some of the really good shit for defense here on the homeworld, but for what the Merc Contracts intend, this is as much a numbers game as it is quality. He needs better gear, systems, weapons designed for the main purpose of supporting the Infantry and killing enemy infantry, and he needs them cheap and fast."

"How do we get purpose-built gear like that without getting butt-scrogged by engineering costs?" Luna asked.

"All engineers at the table, please hold your hands up," Mosley said. Luna and Mosley did so, and much to the surprise of everyone else at the table, so did Jeff Evans. "You as well?"

"Partially, I was studying for an Engineering degree, heavy on the materials sciences side, before I jumped on the train to try to rescue Cynthia," Evans answered. Cynthia simply blushed.

"Well, and now in deference to Luna's impatience, here is my plan. I want to bring the Rail Beacon Engineers, Jump Engine Technicians, and a couple others under one umbrella. I want to set up an outfit where we can pool resources and engineer ourselves some good, hard gear, improve bases, set up Jump Engine Networks, Rail Beacon Networks, the whole nine yards. Call it, Sigma Engineering Services, and we could even go out of our way to do engineering for Mercenary Contract work.

"Got another one for your Special Engineering Services," Executor Nereus said as he took an open seat next to Karin. "I know you were talking about blacksmithing work, Karin, so my idea is on that."

"Do tell, Executor," the apprentice Technician asked.

"Not strictly related to the Engineering project, we need to get a special skillset in action. Relic Enchantment is what it is called, and I've seen a few Relics in action over the years," the High Executor said with a clear hint of irony to voice. There was no question that he was steeped in relic skillsets and lore, it was a literal job requirement for Executors. "You want to change the name of the game in a hurry, put some troops on the ground with enchanted armor and weapons — you'll see the game change fast and loud when a crew of Relic Armored Infantry hammer into an enemy battle line."

Karin gasped with her hand over her mouth. "The Secret Service!"

"Aye," Nereus answered. "You forge their swords, their melee weapons, others enchant those devices, you have a near-impenetrable guard force to cover the boss."

"Sigma Specialist Services Group," Cynthia pointed out a possible name for it.

The table was silent for ten seconds. "Specialist Services Group? I like the ring of that one. You have a trade, missy?"

Cynthia shook her head. "Was a singer and a traditional dancer, an artist, nothing technical," Cynthia answered meekly.

"If you're willing to learn, the other cadet on Luna's team is a southeast-Asian blacksmith, specializes in Naginata," Karin said. "And if you can sing, I'd love to hear it."

Without even trying, Karin had fired off an idea in the displaced Cynthia, who was beginning to despair of having no societal place outside of the arms of Jeff. It would be years before Cynthia began to move on it, but what Karin started, Cynthia would turn into a worldwide movement in decades to come.

For his part, Mosley had pegged one of the nastiest problems to face the fledgling nation, but the solution would be across the table from him, sitting to the left of Cynthia. Jeff Evans would be the first, but certainly not the last, of head Systems Engineers for Sigma, specialist engineers that designed the tools Sigma would use to dominate battlefields in centuries to come.

All in all, it was a dinner meeting that changed the fate of a nation — and thereby the fate of millions of planets to yet be ventured.

-x-x-x-

(21 March, Magi Year 14408 / Year SL 8838, 2100 Hours Local time)
(METARgraphic Gun Range, Administration Building 1st Basement, Base Boarhound, Terra 232)
(Day 4 of campaign)

The first part of the day for the Sigma Secret Service had been something of an engineered torture test for the volunteers. Some of them were pretty hardy, but none of them were really trained up for wearing a combat gearset for any major length of time. Some had balked at the weight of the gearset, to which Toni passed around Hess' non-armor LBE vest. Of the eleven-person team, six could not properly lift it, and Toni explained that it did not have a full water bladder or the folding-stock shotgun, which reduced some ten pounds total of the weight. Opinions changed amongst the group when they realized that Hess wore this thing routinely almost without discomfort.

Others balked at the gearset on the illusion that it would not provide decent protection.

"Virtue, please set up a human simulate at 20 meters, female form, wearing a plate carrier with Level 4 plates." The formation of the Nanoform material only took five seconds to fill out and color in properly. "Some of you have questioned the gearset for how well it protects. I had the same question for Erich this morning, and he showed me the same thing I am about to show you."

Toni stepped up to the safety line, took her M4 off safety, and brought it up to aim. One burst, two bursts, three bursts, a total of ten rounds landed on the plate carrier, though at least one round went wide of the armor plate and caused the body to start bleeding from out behind the plate. "Bleeder," Lydia pointed out.

"Round went wide," Toni said. "Weapon safed and slung. Come on," Toni waved the Secret Service detail forward to the simulate. "These SAPI armor plates are engineered to take repeated hits from common battle rifles, and also stop at least one good hit from a thirty-caliber armor piercing round." Toni pulled one of the shoulder straps loose, then withdrew the armor plate.

"Holy shit," Moira said after she had a look at the plate's strikeface.

"Nine rounds hit the plate. None penetrated." Toni flipped it over. "You will note, two of the rounds stacked on prior holes, and they still didn't penetrate. That's the upper limit, two and done in a 3-centimeter space, but if you're taking that kind of fire, it's officially a bad day and you should have ended the battle with spellcraft already."

"So what's the point?" Asuka asked.

"This is to save our asses from a sudden ambush scenario, those of us who are not psionic and can't sense it coming. The body armor gives us survivability, we then use our arms and our spellcraft to return the favor and end the threat. Any questions on process?"

"No ma'am, crystal clear now," Leonora answered as the group walked back to the firing line.

"Now, we've gone all day wearing the basics — plate carrier, armor plates, basic mag pouch, pistol, pistol mag pouch. Not a huge amount of weight overall. You've all tried lifting the boss' gearset. If we are to follow him into battle, we all need to condition ourselves to be able to handle a proper combat load. This will not be a fast training program — we work slow, we work thorough, and all the while we learn the ins and outs of our weapon systems. Now, that said, see this M4 with suppressor? I'm now done with it. Sigma is going to standardize on a single platform, and it won't be the M4A1 or M4A4. We're looking at either the Remington ACR or the FN SCAR, and so far the boss is leaning toward the ACR."

"What about suppressors? I kinda liked not having ear protection in," Moira answered.

"Virtue, please draw a full battery of ACRs, electronic earmuffs, and two M2 cans of 5.56 ammo," (3) Toni requested. Given she was a section lead, she had the authority to make such transactions, and Hess had already informed Virtue that training munitions were not to be shorted within reason.

"Processing now," Virtue said.

"Everyone, get your tablets ready. Once we draw these arms, they are permanent issue unless we change them out," Toni said as she activated her tablet. "Virtue, once the dispenser is cleared, execute a full purchase of 40-caliber pistol ammo. Today, we start with pistol and we go with pistol until 2300 or until I am satisfied."

"Understood. I will draw an ammo can per person and an EasyLoader per person to assist with feeding the mags."

"Also, issue a General Purpose pouch for our vests to keep gear and cleaning kits in for our weapons," Toni suggested. "Time to get used to carrying it around with us all day."

"First gear issue is ready," the ScrapNet Interface unlocked audibly and the light on the interface panel went green to signify the system was ready.

"I know this has existed for decades, but it's still, well, freaky. And more so freaky that you guys do purchases off it," Sapphire said.

"You think this bends brain cells, wait until you see the heavy equipment pad down in the rail head. I watched them pull a HEMTT 2 truck and an engine cradle trailer out, and just drive with it to where they could receive an engine. Jeff Evans knows how to quickly learn new equipment."

"Better still, wait until we start using ScrapNet to induct Mobile Army units, like the AH-364A attack helos," Toni said while she was scanning and handing out ACR rifles and magazines.

"Ten mags?" Anastasia asked. "Eight in our pouch, one in the rifle, where does the last go?"

Toni set her rifle aside and held up two of the mags side by side. "These are the Xigon STANAG-P type magazines. See on the sides, one post, one latch? They're designed to mount side-by-side with a very slight offset." Toni twisted the two magazines together to where they interlocked. "Two in the gun, eight in the pouch, 300 rounds on your person."

"Damn, where did you pick up that idea?" Lydia asked.

"The Boss, actually. His AR-15 had two aluminum STANAG magazines clamped together, but he never used it more than a half magazine. His Enfield did most of the talking."

"Oh, okay," Lydia said.

"The name for that kind of conduct is 'Mall Ninja'," Sigma Two said as he creeped up behind Moira.

"Sir!" The entire group snapped to attention when they recognized who was there.

"Continue on, I'm here to watch," Clint said.

"Anyway, now that we have mags and ammo, time to load up," Toni said after she allowed the ScrapNet Interface to close up for the second ammo draw.

The training would go to the 2300 stop point for the group, with Clint officiating and assisting in bringing everyone up to par with their pistols. The ACRs would go unused, since the team was not up to Toni's pistol standards yet. Including herself, she would have to admit.

-x-x-x-

(21 March, Magi Year 14408 / Year SL 8838, 2330 Hours Local time)
(Hess' Quarters, Administration Building 4th Floor, Base Boarhound, Terra 232)
(Day 4 of campaign)

"Interesting possibility. Person touches rune, trips spell. Nice and efficient, almost like a landmine."

"In fact, some fixed locations use spellcraft runes as a magical analog to landmines," Virtue reported. "Security camera footage on monitor one."

Erich turned his chair around to watch the footage, which was shorter than he expected. On the video, a group of brigands (or soldiers?) entered a hallway that was posted with a 'no entry' sign, and partway into the hall, someone activated a spell rune on the ground that struck all five with magical fire. Two simply dropped, two ran back out of the hallway in classic 'human torch' fashion, but a third ran himself into the wall and bounced, tripped the rune a second time, and was struck by the magic flame again (lethally this time).

"Well, that was painful," Hess said. "Idiots will be idiots. Anyway, from what I have read about magic so far, anything that can be used as spellcraft can be ensconced into a rune of some kind?"

"Close to anything," Virtue answered. "There are some spells that do not work with spell runes, but those spells are the exceedingly rare exception."

"Huh," Hess groused. "We will need to consider putting in place some runes for medical purposes, and some runes for personal purposes."

"I am listening," Virtue said.

"The Trains; I want to create a Rune series that is always active, that when a person walks across the Rune, it eliminates any major diseases they have. An effective Rune that creates a Cure Disease spell field, on the way through a centralized transit point into the induction area. Maybe we could do a similar rune for medical purposes? I saw a few that looked like they were either inadvertent or direct amputees, maybe a Regeneration Rune to correct that?"

"You will need multiple Runes for that purpose alone," Toni said as she approached the table. "A Regen runic field would take time to repair, which would necessitate having multiple Runes."

"Excellent point," Hess said with a smile as Toni took seat next to him — rather close to him, at that. "Virtue, to the Undercroft Expansion Plan, please add suitable space to include several of these Runes, and room to add more as we further expand. Say, a raised titanocrete (4) platform, bed height, built into an inset cubicle so curtains can be strung across for privacy while the process works through."

"Why such an expensive construct? Wouldn't simple concrete do?" Toni asked.

"It would do, but I want this construct to be built once and last forever. Standard Portland Cement Concrete does not last forever," Erich said after he gave Toni a quick glance. He was also quick to look back to his work, lest he dwell on her dressed-down charm. "What I spend now, may cost more in the short term, but when you think decades into the future, paying for better now often times achieves better and longer results."

"Okay," Toni acknowledged the point. "Regenerative, disease cleaning, maybe one down by the Trains themselves for fast-heal of injuries? Getting shot does not require a full Regenerative spell."

"One by each Train, I would say, or more depending on the length of the Train. Maybe set them up on mobile platforms for transport around to areas that require combat personnel?" Hess opined.

"Doable," Virtue said. "Inset the healing rune into a Ferrocrete slab, move it around by heavy forklift as needed."

Hess scrolled through a couple lists on the monitors for a moment, but didn't ask any more questions. The 'why' was reasonably obvious to Toni, she was sitting next to him and he had a question that he was troubled by.

"You're holding a question back, big guy," Toni prompted him.

Hess jiggled his head back and forth, sort-of mocking his own hesitation while making light of it. "While you were cleaning up, I took the liberty of looking up the spell that is used to change the form of a Phoenix or a Dragon from avian to human forms. Not complex, really, and usable in the form of a Rune."

"So, what's the big deal?" Toni asked, unsure where Hess was leading the question.

"If I was to commission two Runes, one for the human-to-avian transformation, another for the avian-to-human transform, what would the acceptance on the ground look like?" Erich asked.

"You joking? You do a service to us Aerials like that, we love you long time!" Toni said.

"Okay, what's the big deal on that?" Erich dropped her own question back on her.

"This isn't our natural form. We are meant to fly free, but we can take Human form for a while. It's not good for us to stay in human form for lengthy periods, it causes problems, but we do it anyways. If you are going to let us free-roam in our proper forms, you'd have friends for life and the solid loyalty of any Nonhuman and Semi-Human you inducted."

Hess nodded four times in thought. "Virtue, list hangars on the base." The hangar listing appeared on Hess' tablet. "Reduce list to show only hangars with suitable wingspans for the largest Avian types." Several of the hangars disappeared, too small to service the larger Dragon types. "Do we have any hangars large enough to handle two such runes without causing problems to the Rune users?"

"Yes, these hangars are sized appropriately for large-body commercial and transport craft," six hangars flashed. "Of these, two of the hangars are large enough to house two runes, but not large enough to be a waste of space. In any case, using two runes in a hangar will cause some space to be left open."

"Display your expectation of space used versus space available, orthographic display, monitor five," Hess ordered.

The display came up on the requested monitor. "That's way too much, big guy. I mean, I'm thankful for the offer of the Rune, and the privacy a Hangar would afford the switch process, but this is a bit much. I mean, I — we — can't ask you to sacrifice two whole hangars to this effort! That's well above and beyond the call of — " Hess held up a hand in request of silence, which he had for twenty seconds. "Sir?" Toni asked.

"Virtue, replace the highlighted unused area with HEMTT trailer parking for Jump Engines, assuming nominal trailer spacing that would not result in collisions. Display remaining unused space on the outside periphery of the trailer parking."

"Parking displayed as dual-level, with a third partial level above the first two that can accommodate palletized cargo and forklifts," Virtue said.

"Son of a bitch, that is a lot of Jump Engine trailers," Toni said.

"I was considering simply turning one hangar into a multi-story parking garage for HEMTT trailers with Jump Engines, since we will undoubtedly exceed the needed jump engines for one base, one array in very short order."

"And by doing this, you create partial storage space as well as provide us Rune floorspace," Toni completed the thought. "But why two hangars?"

"One rune for human to avian, another rune for avian to human, gender-split between two facilities, four runes total. As necessary, we can add more hangars if the volume exceeds what is available for transformation." Toni opened her mouth to protest, but Hess raised his hand again. "Do not concern over the equipment, Toni. Nor should you concern about the floorspace involved, or even the illusion of propriety. I value the personnel well in excess of the value in a structure or the aircraft. For the Dragons and Phoenix, this is a job perk and a way to maintain a healthy lifestyle. For the rest of the unit, this is a promise that I do not side with the racist elements, or alternately, that I side against the racist elements. For myself, this is a statement: do it right, first time, every time."

Toni gaped at his logic. "I — I don't know what to say," she finally acknowledged.

"I think unconventionally," Hess explained. "I also expect flak for this move. Most will welcome it, or will at least be indifferent. Some will be hostile. Those who object are under no obligation to remain on the base or to serve Sigma. If they want off planet, that is on them. But, and I want this dealt with soonest, I do not want a cloud of paranoia hanging over the efforts here, with the nonhumans thinking they are fated to death at the hands of racist parties and my indifference. I refuse to be indifferent on this matter; we wrote the law structure egalitarian, so shall it be, and this is a symbol thereof."

Toni said nothing, she simply reached across her chair to hug the Boss from the side.

---

Author's Chapter Afterword:

First full day as a Protectorate, and you can see that the crew is really putting the loans to use to begin the projects.

Primarily, Hess is moving full speed ahead on the Jump Engine project, mainly because roughly everything else he does is dependent on it. To get those out, he has prime movers and the base equipment itself, plus a crew that is led by a guy that used to fix them professionally. Getting them in place is the providence of other equipment that Hess ordered, but will factor into the next chapter. The digging work is done by the excavators and the trenchers, which will provide the below-ground enclosure and the power cable from the fusion reactor pack to the enclosure.

Second, Clint is forming up the first of the Rail Guard teams. This is where the Trains start being disassembled, and as it happens, where the largest part of Sigma's initial recruits and civilians will come from. You'll see in Chapter 10 what I mean exactly as the Train is cleared out, and you'll also get a solid look at the salvage to be gleaned from the Train itself.

The third major point is the Secret Service unit that Toni now has in play. They'll be key to certain events going forward, and you'll get a good look at some of the Nonhuman dynamics in play with them around.

On the opposite side, there is the asshole with the bat. He isn't the first, and certainly won't be the last, but his at-bat is well into the future. There are other assholes in play, and some of them will make noise in the next chapter. Things have an excellent propensity to get ugly, so stay tuned on that note.

As to the rest, well, I say pay attention to the Engineers. They're going to make some moves in coming chapters that will cause brix to be shat. Serious bricks. I won't say anything for fear of spoilers, so I'll just hold it at that.

On my writing front, I am over halfway done with the next chapter of Archangel's Amazing Adventures, and I expect to have it completed by the end of next week for the writing phase. The Beta-read phase typically takes about a week past that, so you can expect my next official story chapter to be April 10 so long as nothing goes Tango Uniform (5) in the next week.

NEXT UP: Things get a little messy around Base Boarhound, but some important movements are made to begin the process of preparation for external operations. And, in the midst of the coming shitstorm, an important lesson is demonstrated to everyone in Sigma.

---

Review Replies: Three replies for Chapter 4!

Knives91: I build worlds based on what I would expect to happen inside the confines of a given scenario. It definitely isn't pretty, especially since the scenario stipulates it isn't pretty. When the shit hits the fan, there is no water mist content to form a rainbow, you follow?

As to the explanation on which guns are used, well, I will have to incorporate that lesson into a coming chapter. Probably Chapter 7 or 8 during a Rail Guard training scenario.

HolyDragoon: I don't fault the Europeans for having solid ground armor, like I said right now it is a tie between the Abrams, LeClerc, Challenger, and Leopard. That said, you are right about certain ground-attack aircraft, and those ground-attack craft may have to show up in this story :)

Guest Reviewer / KPhoenix (Forgot to log in for his review): The thing about the grudges is that the Star League has gone out of its way over the years to abuse its power. That creates enemies, especially enemies of Specialists that they screw in the process.

Actually, the group will go with the ACR at the end of the day, but I might as well block-quote the reply I sent you earlier. As to the AK versus AR debate, neither are technically bad rifles. Your bog-standard AK is loose-tolerance, designed to be handled by and work in the hands of conscript soldiers. The AR-15 requires better training and more attention to cleaning or maintenance, but it is far tighter tolerances and can outshoot the shooter in most cases. The ballistics in close favor the AR-15, but at intermediate ranges (300+ yards) the AK ekes out a little better result per round on target. Additionally, both rounds are capable of reaching out to 800 or more yards, but most AKs are not expected to hit at that range and the energy on target from a 5.56 at that range is down below that of a .22LR at 100 yards.

You are right about the psionics, that is an invasion of privacy, but in this case Hess would let it slide to a degree. They're not doing so for malicious purposes, and the reasoning is to make sure they're not about to get killed by a maniac or sociopath. On the face of it, a perfectly understandable defense mechanism, though after he does realize what is happening, there will be some words.

It will be a minor issue going forward, but not so much as it would seem a big deal as the nonhumans are making of it right now. Hess will take some actions in coming chapters that intend to diffuse the situation to a fair degree, which will culminate around Chapter 20 or so. As to what goes on with the Secret Service or relationship issues, like is said, nobody knows of what happens on the top floor, so sayeth Toni.

The FF9 cast is going to be a tricky one for just exactly the same reason you point out. That said, Steiner will have a bit of an episode of coming to his senses after the shit and the fan collide, so what happens around that crew is yet to be seen. They could, of course, use it as an experience to 'level up' here in Sigma territory and then take the fight back to Kuja in their homeland :)

Now, as to Toni's present course, stay tuned for the next chapter. The bulk of her present conduct will be thoroughly explained at that time.

THANK YOU ALL FOR THE REVIEWS! The more gas, the hotter the flames, so keep 'em coming!

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The Gripe Sheet:

No direct gripes, but a serious questioning of a course being followed by a character. All will be covered in the next chapter. As always, much thanks to One Village Idiot, Necroblade, Takeshi Yamato, and Sieben Nightwing for the beta work!

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Footnotes:

(1): Cheese Wagon is a common derogatory term for School Bus in American schools.

(2): Maintenance, Repair, Overhaul.

(3): Contrary to the can's common name (the .50-caliber Ammo Can), the M2 Ammo can is used for storage and transport of a lot more than just simply 50-caliber ammo. In the cited example, a single 50-caliber ammo can hold 840 rounds of 5.56 NATO in one-magazine (30 round) boxes, and has some extra storage room for a couple spare STANAG magazines and stripper clip guides.

(4): Titanocrete is a reinforced concrete mixture consisting of Volcanic Ash Cement, Titanium Rebar, and powdered titanium added into the concrete aggregate to increase durability by several orders of magnitude. The Volcanic Ash Cement gains strength as it ages, and the titanium provides both extra strength and thermal resistance to the mix, with the titanium rebar acting as an internal heat sink to the assembly. For this reason, Titanocrete is a preferred material for Dropship landing pads.

(5): NATO Phonetic again, this time for T U, an abbreviation for Tits Up, which roughly means 'dead' or 'immobile' in most cases.

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Included Works:

—Real Life Armaments — too many to name, that is most of the arsenal shown.
—Real Life Combat Gear — the vests and gear carried by the Militia troops are easily constructible from stuff you can buy on Amazon or Cheaper Than Dirt. No, Seriously, Look it up. Do a search for "UTG Modular 10-Piece Complete Kit", and you have a good look at a starter kit for any serious gearhound.
—Real Life Concepts
—Real Life Time Period: 1930s New York City (Shown in Chapter 2, referenced here in newspaper headlines)
—Real Life Equipment: The Caterpillar equipment showcased in this chapter is based on real life designs or equipment from said manufacturer.

—Real Life Mythology: The Phoenix race of beings are derived from the mythological Phoenix (Egyptian) and Thunder Bird (Native American). That said, I have made some serious modifications to the whole principle that will be revealed in coming chapters.

—Personal Works: The Star Empires are mentioned briefly here. Additionally, the Magi Empire is named specifically.
—Personal Works: The Star League is a derivation of the Star League from Battletech, but founded by Queen Sora Serenity (Executor-Queen Sora Takenouchi).
—Personal Works: The Executors are specialized Mages who have transcended a minimum of twice (Gods and Goddesses are a minimum Transcendance of once) and are specially commissioned to defend life and honor amongst the Star League territories or member states.
—Personal Works: The 10mm Kurz cartridge is a shortened / lower velocity / lower weight version of the 10mm BG round, developed by the Magi for 'crowd pleasing' against large masses of Negaverse troops, most of which were unarmored during the Star Empire Wars. It quickly became a favored heavy machine gun round for multiple purposes after the fact. (Shown in Chapter 1)
—Personal Works: Gerald Lightbringer is most famous for his participation in my Jokers Wild series, but his history is far stranger than either story properly shows.

—Anime General: the oddball hair colors, especially endemic to nonhumans.
—Anime General and D&D: the nonspecific concept of Elves, Nymphs, and Sylphs.
—Anime Trigun: Vash The Stampede, Millie Thompson, and Meryl Strife took the wrong train, ended up hanging out, and now are tagging along with the Militiamen.

—Game: Battletech: You are starting to see some serious discussion of Battletech units and force concepts in this chapter. They will become more prevalent as the story marches on.
—Game: Dungeons and Dragons (First Edition): A lot of the spellcraft will be drawn from D&D as well as other sources to be named.
—Game: Dungeons and Dragons (First Edition): The concept of the Dragons of many colors is drawn from the D&D First Edition Monster Manual. Some mods were made (the Platinum dragon is not unique, and the Eternal Dragon is a wholly new class).
—Game: Final Fantasy IX: The player cast of the game (Zidane, Dagger, Steiner, Freya, Vivi, Eiko, Red, and Quina) are residing in one of the dining cars, but do not have a role as of yet. That will change in a few chapters.
—Game: Infantry Online (Sony Online Entertainment): The CAW from the early section, and named in the stinger, is a different-manufacturer version of the Kuchler A6 CAW. (Shown in Chapter 1)
—Game: Call Of Duty MW2: The Remington ACR in use in this story is based on the Magpul Masada / Bushmaster ACR / Remington ACR in use in said game. Hey, even if it was pooh-pooed in real life, someone in an alternate dimension would do it right, ne?