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)

7. Initial Public Offering

(Sigma Mercenaries, Primary Story 1, Chapter 7: Initial Public Offering)

(23 March, Magi Year 14408 / Year SL 8838, 0500 Hours Local Time)
(Exercise Room, Administration Building Basement 1, Base Boarhound, Terra 232)
(Day 6 of Campaign)

"Okay, this I gotta see," Sidonia said. "How much does Clint weigh with full gear on?"

"My base weight is 185, and my gearset is 55, so that would be 240."

"Round it off to 250 for ease of plating," Erich said. "So, Clint, plus his gearset, plus my gearset, 320 total."

"320 it is," Sidonia and Toni took quite a few to load up the titanium weight plates to specification, but were able to load it up slightly higher than the requested 320.

"Make it happen, big guy," Toni challenged the boss.

Hess laid down at the bench press, wormed his way into proper position, and took hold of the bar. The onlookers were a bit surprised that he didn't immediately go into it, but took three deep breaths before he did the first push.

The bar went up, the bar went down, and it came back up again. "One," Toni counted. "Two," she counted off as Hess ran another cycle. "Three," she tallied another round.

"Four, five, six, seven," Sidonia counted off.

"Seven," Toni deliberately miscounted the eighth rep.

"Repeat one," Erich tacked onto the end of Toni's deliberate miscount. "Seven repeat two," Erich counted the ninth. "Seven repeat three," he ran the last cycle and brought the bar down on the hold brackets.

"Dude, that's like lifting any two ladies in this room at the same time," Anastasia commented.

"Told you he could do it," Victoria chided the Secret Service officers.

"We didn't not believe you, but I wanted verification," Sidonia said. "So, the big ones, since you're not a runner guy, are walking and lifting. Can you do a treadmill?"

"No, tears my calves up. I can walk on a level or semi-padded surface like this all day," Hess waved a finger at the floor. "Toni, you're thinking something," the big guy prompted her.

"I need to find a piece of plywood or something similar," Toni said. "Want to run an experiment."

"Am I allowed to inquire?" Erich asked.

"See if you could press myself and Sidonia," she said. "Or myself and Moira, or there are a few other options."

Hess nodded. "Next time you swing by the hospital, ask if you can borrow a rescue basket. That should work better for your plan," he said. "Another round, or you want to try maxing my weight out?" he tapped on the weight bar while looking at Sidonia.

"Nah, do a ten-and-hold set, then we'll move somewhere else." Hess dropped back down to the bench and slid back into position to continue. A ten-and-hold series involved doing ten standard down-up reps, and on the tenth, the lifter would simply hold the weight up for as long as possible without locking a joint. It created heavy resistance against the muscles, which helped activate and build muscle mass.

So far there wasn't much interest in the two gym facilities on base — one in amongst the barracks, one in the basement of the Administration Building. As the recruits figured out that at least some modicum of strength was required for this job, there would be more interest — and more need of facilities. And there would be a dedicated need for personal trainers; while the Drill Instructors probably knew the basics of building strength, they didn't really specialize in it, which could be either dangerous or ineffective after a while.

Sidonia figured, if she wasn't doing the Secret Service detail, she'd want to be queen of one of the Gyms. Toni had been right about the duty expectations for the Callsigns: Clarence and Victoria were not looking, Hess was a nice guy but extremely out of shape, and Clint was physically good looking with an attitude somewhere in the neighborhood of chalk on a chalkboard. She recognized quickly enough that Toni was looking in the direction of the Boss, but there was probably more story there than anyone had thus far mentioned.

Being out in the Gyms would give her the opportunity to clean up Sigma as a whole, but that task necessarily had to start at the command level. After all, a fish rotted from the head down, and so far the head of Sigma (the Callsigns in general, and Hess in particular) were not in good shape.

"Next up is leg presses. Do those before?"

"Yes, frequently," Erich said as he sat up from the bench pressing.

"Clint, your next should be iso-lateral chest press. Victoria, squats with weight. Clarence, bicep curls with free-weights."

"Yes ma'am," the three said in unison.

"How high have you been on the leg press?"

"775 pounds," Hess said. "My right knee did not like that. I usually do 600 or so."

Sidonia nodded twice. In one admission, Hess had just declared that he could straight-line leg press 3/8ths of a ton and could probably go higher if he tried. On the other hand, the human endoskeleton wasn't designed to take that kind of stress, or at least not for long, so extensive work with leg presses could break bones or joints.

"We'll do 500 pound presses, quarter ton, and just use this as a heavy movement or squatting substitute. But you will be doing quite a bit of walking after we're done with the circuit weights."

Hess slapped on five of the 50-pound weight plates onto the port side shuttle bar, while Sidonia handled the starboard side. This machine was similar to the one that Hess used in Clint's basement, where the user would sit at a 45-degree angle above horizon and press the shuttle from low to high. The difference in this case was that the whole assembly was much heavier than the one in Clint's basement, due to the necessity of genetically engineered persons that required higher resistance.

Hess flopped down and positioned himself, checked the safety stop position, and put his feet up on the shuttle. "Hold, your foot placement isn't proper."

"Huh?" Hess asked.

"You're fighting two sets of angles here, that could be bad. First, feet shoulder width apart, no more, no less." Hess adjusted to where he thought was proper. "Second, feet vertical, not angled."

Erich repositioned his feet to vertical. "Man, this feels unnatural."

"Probably so used to walking and standing with angled feet that you're predisposed to placing them at an angle. Go ahead and begin your series."

The big guy began his leg presses with gusto, but would quickly find out that Sidonia could be extremely unrelenting on keeping him going. Ninety minutes of physical work later, Sidonia would call time and allow the group to clean up — but the day was already in motion for everyone involved.

-x-x-x-

(23 March, Magi Year 14408 / Year SL 8838, 0630 Hours Local Time)
(ScrapNet Equipment Pad, Administration Building Railhead Undercroft, Base Boarhound, Terra 232)
(Day 6 of Campaign)

"Listen up, ladies and gentlemen! You seven are the first recruits found and brought in for Sigma's fledgling aerospace and helicopter groups. Now, before we begin, Anne, Ainsley, you two need to hit the books and the sims before you can pull aircraft. According to Virtue, you're still a check-ride short of certification on your chosen airframes. If you wanna fly, you need that type certification."

"Yes, sir."

"Back to it." Beck clapped his hands and jerked a thumb over his shoulder, referencing the southern METARgraphic field which they were using as simulators. "And that means today is Checkride day for the rest of us. I did my check ride by sim yesterday, and I have over a decade in Whiskey-Cobra gunships and Blackhawk utility helos on my home planet, so today is check rides for the five of you inductees. First off, welcome to Sigma. I am Beck Ellsworthy, and until Sigma One finds someone better, I am the Flight Boss for Boarhound. Before we begin, any questions?"

"Sir, I'm type rated on the Blackhawk IIM, are we not using those craft?" the elder of the two guys asked.

"Nope, not at all," Beck answered. "Ever hear of the Roadrunner?"

"No, should I?" Curt answered.

"If you haven't heard of the Roadrunner or Chinook II-F, you're about to get a crash-course in them. Both craft are produced by Vandren Aerospace services, and Sigma has bought that company and its inventory for our own use."

Katherine E. raised her hand. "I used a Chinook II-F on my homeworld of Seldiz to fight forest fires, sir. I loved it. Damn thing could carry 14 tons of fire-fighting chemical and a sprayer system. You're serious that we're using them?"

"We have them in inventory, but for today we start out on the Roadrunner, which is a general-purpose lifter more along the lines of the Blackhawk and Blackhawk IIM but far cheaper. A stock Blackhawk IIM is 1.63 million C-bills a pop and has a full weapon system consisting of two Sponson turrets and a total of five guns. Lift capacity is 5 tons per craft, which is pretty good lift for a medium utility helo. The Roadrunner is 420 thousand C-bills per craft, roughly a quarter of the cost, has better armor, and an armored chun turret with two ER Micro lasers."

"That's a significant step down, sir," Wesley said.

"There's a reason for that. You're not flying a dedicated gunship; we have dedicated gunships, we're planning on putting the Apache IIM R3 in service in the next week. The Roadrunner is a no-bullshit lift capacity helo, nothing more, nothing less. If your craft is in a shooting scenario, we've done something wrong in the planning phases, comprende?" Beck asked.

"Yes sir!" the group shouted back.

"Good, glad to see you guys catch on quickly enough. Now, three of you, Curt, Zoe, and Wesley, are here as combat pilots, which means you will probably be in the cockpits of the Apache IIM before the end of the week. That said, we don't have any gunners, so it's more or less just you and your bad selves flying around and sounding menacing. I've already put out a call for gunnery-trained attack helo personnel, so we'll see what we'll see there. Peggy and Katherine, you two are dedicated to noncombat flight, which is the Roadrunner and the Chinook II-F, but I want everyone type-rated on the Roadrunner in case we need noncombat lift for some reason."

"Yes sir!" Wesley said.

"Now that we have the plan of action down square, time to make something happen. Virtue, please deploy one heavy tug, one nose wheel drawbar assembly for a Roadrunner, and 1 Roadrunner."

All eyes turned to the ScrapNet pad, which after about five seconds and two blasts of warning horn, coughed up the requested gear. The Roadrunner had been 'stepped down', which meant the tail and main rotors were folded down for storage, but that would be rectified once the craft was moved out to the helipads north of the administration building. Each of the Vandren machines came with a full tank of Fusion Engine Polymer (1), so they were otherwise ready to fly right out of the box. The crew would do a full pre-flight inspection before they pressed the 'go button' on the engine, but for starting purposes all was well in their aviation world right now.

"Someone can sit up front with me in the tug, the rest of you can park it in the cargo bay while we tow out to the helo pad."

Every Magi-manufactured VTOL, aircraft, aerospace fighter, or similar unit had a linkage built into the nose gear that could be used for a tow or push-back action using a Tug and an appropriate tow bar. In this case, Beck simply wheeled the tow-bar into place, aligned the pins to the nose wheel hubs, and slapped the pins in until there was no red stripe visible on the locking pins. A little muscle wrangling and he had the tow-bar adjusted onto the trailer hitch for the heavy Tug, which was far simpler to connect: lift locking pin, align the tow-bar, drop locking pin to allow spring to lock it back in place. Five seconds, done.

Zoe hopped into the Tug with Beck, while the others opened the side doors on the Roadrunner and took seats on the floor to ride along. "Sir, if I may ask, what are we going to do for fuel once the tank runs out?"

"The FEP in the engine will last us 60 hours of flight time right now. We won't be killing that today," he said before he turned the engine over on the Tug. "As to what to do beyond that tank, well, you wouldn't believe the budget the Boss has for fuel."

"Try me, sir."

Beck chuckled before he dropped the tug into gear. "Let me put it this way. His AvGas (2) budget is sufficient that I could have done a thousand hours of flight time in a Whiskey Cobra and not put an appreciable dent in the budget. Fusion Polymer? Pah, we get that for free, effectively, the tanks on the fusion engines for the Trains are self-regenerating courtesy of the Star League Living Monument program, and his engineer mastermind Evans is already working on a way to get those tanks to feed into some of the bases' holding tanks."

Zoe held her silence while Beck maneuvered the Roadrunner into one of the drive lanes to head up the side ramp and out to the helipads. "If you don't object to my asking, sir, why are you following him? You've got more actual combat experience than he does."

"That's not the only thing that makes a difference in jobs like this, honey," Beck said. "Sure, I've got a helluva lot more time in military action than he does. Probably have more management experience than he does. Definitely have more small arms, support weapons, and heavy weapons systems experience than he does. That shit doesn't matter past the first two, three weeks tops. What I don't have, what really matters for the long haul, is the planning skills, personnel loyalty, and unconventional problem-solving skills that the fat-boy Militiaman has."

"How much of a difference is that going to make for real, sir? I mean, anybody could do that, right?"

Again, Beck chuckled. "Ask that punk Akira and his butt-buddy how well they're doing in ginning up loyalty for a counter-crusade against Hess," Ellsworthy said. "Fat Boy has a campaign of mind working on people already. He says he's 'just a regular guy', but don't let that Bravo Sierra get to your head. Regular Guys don't board shit trains like this one, successfully cap off the slavers on board, extract half the people on the train, get the evacuees set up in an abandoned fortress, and forge unstated alliances with the nastiest superpowers on the block. He's something else, I haven't quite figured out what yet, but he's definitely not a 'Regular Guy', his own opinion notwithstanding."

"Oh," Zoe half-squeaked after the analysis sunk in as to what she was dealing with.

"Oh, yeah," Beck said. "May we live in interesting times," he said before he waved to Mosley and his group, who were working on extracting some of the control systems from the lead train cab. "And it's our job to fly to and fro on the rotors of fusion-powered Helos."

-x-x-x-

(23 March, Magi Year 14408 / Year SL 8838, 0745 Hours Local Time)
(METARgraphic Field North, Base Boarhound, Terra 232)
(Day 6 of Campaign)

Clint tapped his secondary radio activation switch. "Field Control, regenerate all targets."

"That was not good," Megan Christenson said with dejection.

"Damn straight that was not good," Clint said. "Every one of you, down and do 25 push-ups, right now," he ordered.

Megan made it to 13 push-ups before her arms gave out. "Arms, not working," she half-gasped.

"Thirteen, this time. Doing a little better than when we started." Clint also took note of four others that had dropped before they reached twenty-five.

"If I didn't know better, I'd say this is torture," Megan said sarcastically.

"No, this is not torture, this is psychological warfare," Clint said. "All of you take a knee or sit Seiza. Time for a lesson."

"What gives, sir?" Irina asked as Clint shook some ammo boxes off a stool and sat it down in front of the group of twenty Rail Guard recruits.

"This is a bit of a lesson that took me a while to understand, but once I learned it, everything became a helluva lot easier to accomplish." Clint sighed. "This whole can, clearing the trains, the physical labor, the firearms drilling, me ripping on you minute-by-minute, it all boils down to two things: mental and physical conditioning. You want to survive this? You need to get your mind straight and get ready to fight it hard and fast, because these Trains are not going to be cake-walks to any degree. You start the battle by winning it up here," Clint thumped his forehead twice with a finger.

"Winning the battle in the mind? I don't think that what I think has any bearing on how the battle unfolds… oh, wait," Carl said.

"Oh, yeah, hold the phone ladies and gentlemen, I believe what we have here is a case of saying that you win the battle of the mind by not winning the battle of the mind. Yeah, no, don't think it works that way, amigo." Clint sighed. "It's all up here. If you think you can win, you run the risk of winning. If you think you won't win, you likely will not win. More to the point, you have to be willing to do it up here, mentally."

"What does that mean?" Lotta asked. Much like Toni, she was a Phoenix, but unlike Toni, she was also rather scrawny and not all that physically apt.

"I can give a thousand rifles and ammo out, but do I have an army? Hell no. Depending on the society, out of a thousand hands, you may find ten to fifteen with the natural will to combat. Others can be trained, but you won't normally find that in more than a third of a population overall, and usually in less than one in ten persons." Again, Clint tapped on his forehead. "It's all up here. If you're willing to do the job, you'll know it up here. If you aren't willing to do it, if you can't bring yourself to pull the trigger, you've already lost the battle in the mind." Sigma Two sighed. "I've known good men who hesitated, and bad men who didn't. It ended badly."

"So what you're saying is that we need to decide if we really can do this?"

"This isn't about if you can do it, because I know you possibly can do it. This is about if you will do it when the chips are down, and if you want to do it, which are three very separate things. Okay, we'll look at this in a different direction. After two full days of chewing on this, any of you who want out, now is the time to say so. You can drop out at a later time, I will not deny any person a way out, but I'm offering a free walk right now. Nothing bad shall be said of any person who walks away, of this I swear."

"I can't do it," Holly D. from team one said. "Thank you for giving us an out. I can't take the pressure." Clint found himself a bit surprised, given that Holly was in the top three of the group in terms of physical conditioning, but he did not show any overt dissatisfaction. He also figured he would miss watching her DD rack bounce in time to pistol shots, but them were the breaks in this case.

"Do you want out of Sigma in total, or just out of the Rail Guard?" Jamieson asked.

"Transfer me back to the Basic group, sir. I need to work in slower than this pace, but I think I can take it still."

"Remember, if you can't do it, don't force yourself. Forcing yourself to do something you mentally can't accomplish is a sure-fire way to get dead." Clint flicked something over to her tablet. "Sign off on that document and submit it, then return to barracks. I am excusing you for the day to cool down, then you resume Basic training tomorrow."

Holly affixed her signature and submitted the document. "Thank you, sir."

"Good luck in Basic. Retain your gear for now, it will probably be traded out later for a basic gearset. Anyone else?" his latter question was directed to the group in general.

"I must resign, sir," Lydia L. from unit two said, which did not surprise Clint in the slightest. She had the worst physical conditioning of the group bar none, and was likely in worse shape than Hess, who could at least successfully do push-ups.

Clint initialized her transfer. "Out completely or back to Basic?"

"Back to Basic, sir. I can do it, but not at this pace," she said.

"I'll be honest with you, Lydia, I don't expect you will achieve a Basic rating for a year, given your weapons and physical proficiencies. If you can handle that kind of grind, though, you can definitely go the distance." Clint flicked her tablet the transfer form. "Sign it and start marching. Same thing, take tonight to cool off, then start in on Basic tomorrow morning."

"Aye, sir," she signed off and the two ladies headed down the way. (3)

After the two ladies were out of earshot, Clint took a sip of water from the hydration reservoir on his armor set. "In much the same fashion as the Militias of my home nation, you are free to come and go as you please, all of you. We are a for-profit unit of volunteers, there is no compulsory requirement to service in Sigma. That said, when you are in the units, if you want the reward, you have to earn the reward. I don't like roustabouts and Sigma One likes a roustabout even less than I. You want to earn your titles, paychecks, your happy ending? Win the battle in your brainpan so you can start developing the physical skills necessary. "

"YES SIR!" the group shouted in response.

"Now, everyone clear your weapons, reload your magazines, and get ready to do it again and do it right."

-x-x-x-

(23 March, Magi Year 14408 / Year SL 8838, 0845 Hours Local Time)
(Business Analysis Office, Administration Floor Second Floor, Base Boarhound, Terra 232)
(Day 6 of Campaign)

"Hey, that looks interesting," Asuka said.

"Huh?" Clarence asked, looking at his Secret Service 'shadow' for the day.

"There. Third column, twenty down. No, down two more. There," she said as Clarence highlighted the necessary entry.

Clarence touched the entry on his tablet and double-tapped it to open it. "Okay, that doesn't sound bad. Extract four ladies from an apartment building due to excessive conflicts with neighbors. They put up 640 C-bills for the contract, which isn't much, but I'm pretty sure we could do this contract in an hour or two with the right equipment."

"New gear? Or something we already have?" Asuka asked.

"New offering from Xigon," Clarence said. "You know the Jump Gate Beacons?"

"Yeah. Use one of those?" the transcendent Mage asked.

"New version. Xigon is offering a concealable beacon that is smaller than my wallet, and a room-clearing beacon designed to get just exactly the entire contents of a room. Virtue, how many samples did Xigon provide us for testing?"

"Ten of each for testing purposes."

"Extract four of the room-clear beacons, four of the concealed beacons, and one standard beacon. Also get us both a pair of concealed pistol holsters and concealed magazine holsters. Given the location information, I suspect this area is not friendly, never mind the 'conflict with neighbors' angle."

"Prepared in the gun range right now," Virtue said.

"Go grab 'em, I'll call the contractee," Clarence said. As Asuka turned to head out, Clarence tapped the phone number on the contract listing to initiate a Micro-Gate Laser Transmission.

The phone call took five seconds to lash up to the ComStar HPG in Spokane, Washington, on that instance of Terra. "ComStar Communications Hub, I have the number you intend to call. How do you want me to announce it?"

"Announce as Clarence Williams, General Contractor from MercNet," Clarence said.

"Roger that, sir. Good luck." Clarence was greeted next by the sound of a beeping hold warning while the operator called through to the contact.

"Hello?" a lady asked quietly. "Clarence Williams?"

"This is, ma'am."

"You're calling about my listing on MercNet, right?" she asked quietly again.

"I am. Do you still want extracted?" Clarence asked plainly.

"Yes. Can you get us out fast? We don't have to take anything, we're effectively prisoners in these apartments," she said.

"Roger that. As soon as possible, we'll be there. Hold on the line, we should be ready to depart shortly. What can you tell me about your apartment?"

"I'm in apartment 208 of my building. You have the street address, right?" she asked.

"Aye. ComStar, you still on the line?" Clarence asked as Asuka returned to the room with the gear.

"Aff, Mister Williams. I have passed back to your system the information we have on the building," the operator said.

"I have it received," Virtue reported. "If you are thinking about dropping in immediately outside her door, it can be done. We have precursor probes to verify the location is clear; I made sure to include one in the kit. Please set it on the table and I will deploy."

"Understood," Clarence said. He dropped the Precursor on the table, which caused it to open up and begin beeping. After a moment of beeping and flashing, it disappeared. "Ma'am, please check immediately outside your door, look at the floor, and see if you can see a small silver circular disc with a red light on top."

"I can't get to it, my door is bolted from the outside," she explained.

"Confirmed, the Precursor is sitting in front of an exterior-bolted door. There are no obstacles visible in the hallway."

"Ma'am, we're coming to you now," Clarence said as he slipped the last of his magazines into a concealed pistol magazine pouch. He picked up a pair of the Room-Clear beacons to take with anyways, just in case there was something worth extracting, but the concealed and standard beacons were already ready. "Third engine ready?"

"They are wiring it in now, I should have it charged in no less than ten minutes. Engine two is charged now, engine one is fifteen minutes away from battery."

"We'll be there shortly, ma'am. Disconnect call and prepare to jump." Clarence tightened up on Asuka to reduce their landing profile.

-x-

(6 June 1994 / Year SL 8838, 1345 Hours Local Time)
(Apartment Building, Southwest Detroit Suburbs, United States of America, Dimension CS-860975200738)

Teenager Soma 'Sonny' Kirzen was a bit apprehensive about the flashing silver thing in the area, but curiosity overtook his instincts. At least, curiosity held until a lady and a guy showed up out of nowhere while the flashing thing disappeared into thin air.

The shock of their arrival caused him to fall backwards. "Holy shit!"

The guy saw him first. "Shh, kid, we're not here to harm anyone," the guy said quietly.

"Where the hell?" he barely stuttered.

"Shh, serious," the guy said, then looked to the door he was standing at. "208, this is it." He touched the exterior bolt lock on the outside of Leef's 'cell' for one of his prostitutes. "Not pickable. Do I boot it?"

"Certainly not," the lady said.

"Who the hell are you guys?" Sonny asked quietly as he approached.

"Interdimensional mercenaries," the guy said. "Can you get us in?" he asked the lady.

"Certainly. The motions of energy shall reach into the barred way and release all wards by Knock," she chanted with her hand on the door. The handle fell off the door in pieces, the exterior bolt lock fell to pieces, and the two frame-bolt locks at the top and bottom of the door ejected from their slots violently enough to cause property damage. The lady simply pushed through the now-unsecured door and inside.

"Damn, I could have thought of a few uses for that spell when I was younger," the guy said. "Keanna Leeoson?"

"That's me," 'Big K' said as Sonny set foot in behind the mercenaries. "You're Clarence, right?"

"Aye, with Asuka. We're Sigma Mercenaries, we're here to get you out," he said as he began cutting the leather thongs that held her to a bed. Her legs were secured with wrapped leather belts that had locks installed to prevent easy removal, but a combat knife made short work of the leather.

"Bondage rape," Asuka said as she assisted untying her legs. "This is answer enough as to why you want out."

She nodded to Asuka, then looked to the teen. "Sonny, go get your mom and sister, they can come with us," Keanna said to the teen.

"Do you need assistance standing?" Clarence asked.

"I can walk, I haven't been tied up too long," she said. "I have clothes in the bathroom."

Asuka followed her to make sure she was still alright. "Your pimp-captor, is he armed usually?"

"Yes, him and his guards," Keanna said. "He's normally out doing drug deals at this time of day, so we're safe for now."

-x-

(10 minutes later)

"We'll send this group in one round, and we'll do the other two in one pass," Clarence said. In total, Two hostages (rooms 208 and 212) and two families of distressed locals had requested extraction, and Clarence decided to go for it. They all were willing to take their chances on Terra 232, if it meant getting them out of southwest Detroit. The families each chipped in a handful of jewelry as payment, which was as good a payment medium as any.

Clarence activated the jump gate beacon on a ten second delay and stepped back from it outside of the grab radius. Once it activated, the fourteen persons disappeared to head back to Terra 232, where they would be greeted by Sigma One and seen to quarters.

"Two down, two to go," Asuka said five seconds after the first group was gone.

"Smooth criminal," Clarence said. "Next two are room 303 and 305, according to my map they are next to each other."

"Game face time," Asuka said as she opened up the door and stepped out. They deliberately didn't close the door to let passers-by see what was in the rooms.

Outside, the two mercenaries turned left, went two doors down, and took the stairs up. On the way, they passed an elderly black lady that gave them both hard looks, but nobody said anything. Clarence stopped at the landing door to the next floor, sighed, and opened it for Asuka.

The Transcendent lady entered the hall, looked around (clear), and waved Clarence in. A turn right, a second turn left, and they were in the hallway with the '30X' apartments.

"303," Clarence said. "Care to do that voodoo you do so well again?"

"Always, sir," Asuka said with a smile. "The motions of energy shall reach into the barred way and release all wards by Knock," she repeated the spell de rigeur for breaking into secured areas or objects, and a second later she was clear to push into the room.

"Huh? Who are you? And what did you do to the door?"

"Sigma Mercenaries, we're here to extract you," Asuka said.

"Mercenaries? Someone actually came to our rescue? Praise the Heavens!" the lady on the sofa said. "Give me a second to throw some clothes on, Leef don't like his bitches lounging around in clothes, he wants all the goods visible or close to it."

"You're pregnant," Clarence said, which was an obvious declaration given Laticia's figure. "How close?"

"Couple months, still," she said as she threw on some jogging pants and a baggy shirt. "Is that gonna be trouble?"

"Hell no, and more is the better, get an unborn kid out of the line of fire," Asuka said.

"Ready to go. You gonna get the others out?" she asked.

"Two already are," Clarence said. "Come on, let's get your neighbor in 305."

"For sure, mister!" she said.

Asuka entered the hallway first, then the hostage, then Clarence. The 305 room was literally the next door, so Asuka simply walked up to it and put her hand on the door. "The motions of energy shall reach into the barred way and release all wards by Knock," she chanted for the fourth time today, which had the exact same effect on the door as it did the prior three times. The locks flew apart, fell apart, and the door swung open freely. "It's an art," the Transcendent Secret Service officer said.

"Holy shit, honey, what the hell did you just do?" Laticia asked.

"Used basic spellcraft to destroy the locks on the door," she said as she pushed in.

"What the fuck?" some guy in his boxers asked, standing next to a bed with another lady strapped down spread-eagled. "Who the fuck are you?"

"Gabrielle Boxer?" Asuka asked the lady as Clarence stepped aside to provide a flanking action if necessary. Clarence considered it odd that the lady still had panties and bra on, but considered it irrelevant to his mission.

"I am," the lady said.

"Who the fuck are you?" the guy asked again, this time a bit more hostile.

"Asuka and Clarence, Sigma Mercenaries. We're here to extract you, Gabrielle." Clarence looked to the guy. "You, John-boy, grab your drawers and haul ass. You want no part of this."

"Hey, fuck you, man! I paid good money for this hour, and I'm — " the 'John' choked up when Clarence drew his XD Tactical .40 with light. "Holy shit, what kind of gun is that?"

"Tactical Operator's pistol," Clarence semi-lied. "Like I said, we're mercenaries, not pussy gang-bangers. Unless you want to be found in the morgue later today, get the fuck out of my sight."

"Y—Y—Yes sir!" the guy snatched up his pants, his shirt, forgot his sneaks, and was out the door at a dead run.

"Jesus," the lady on the bed said as Clarence and Asuka began unstrapping her.

"Asuka, get her some clothes. Laticia, Gabrielle, once Asuka has your stuff, we're going to Jump Gate out to your new home. If you want out before we jump, now is the time."

"After the past year, hell no," Gabrielle said. Clarence figured her roughly 25, very fit, stacked deep, and probably a hit for the pimp's business. "The sooner the better. I'll do laundry for your boss if needed."

"Your contract fee is already paid, milady, you owe us nothing," Clarence said as he dialed the settings into the concealed jump beacon. Asuka returned with a shirt and jogging pants for the lady.

"Why not strip you naked before they tied you up?" Asuka asked.

"It's a new thing Leef started, for an extra twenty, you get to destroy the girl's clothes. Turns a handy profit for him too, he buys consignment clothes at two sets to a buck and lingerie at 75 cents a set."

"Sad times," Clarence said dejectedly. "Everyone ready to go?"

"Yes," they all said. Clarence set the beacon active and pulled everyone close to him.

"What?" a guy at the door asked. "WAIT!" he shouted just before he brought a pistol up onto target. One shot, two shots, three shots, all three landed in the middle of Clarence's backplate of Dragon Scale Six, before a fourth shot failed to strike because the target was no longer there.

-x-

The second group landed exactly when and where Virtue said they would, though Hess could immediately tell something was wrong when the pregnant lady arrived crying and the Caucasian twenty-something lady was screaming bloody murder. When Hess caught sight of Clarence drop to both knees, shaking his head, he had an idea what happened.

"Clarence! Are you hurt?" Asuka shouted.

"No, no, my armor absorbed them all," Clarence pulled his shirt off, which revealed the Dragon Scale Six hauberk underneath. From behind, Hess could see the three holes in his shirt, and the three impact points on the armor.

"Clarence, you brass-balled son of a bitch!" Moira shouted. "Scared the fuck out of all of us! That was insanely irresponsible!"

"Nice job absorbing ordinance," Hess said as he used his left hand to haul Clarence to his shaky feet. "Hold still a second, I've got this."

"What the hell are you doing back there, chief?" Clarence asked.

"Picking the mushroomed slugs out of your armor." Hess took thirty seconds to dig them out, then secured them in a small evidence bag. "Got them."

"Oh my God, what — how — who?" Gabrielle asked as she caught proper sight of the massive guy in military gear, with a military rifle, military leg holsters, and a lady wearing roughly the same equipment.

"Erich Hess. Welcome to the Protectorate of Sigma; you two are now free and clear," the big guy said.

"Sorry about that, sir, but the contract was too Echo-Zulu to pass up, and Asuka and I figured we could make it work," Clarence said.

Hess opened his mouth to say something, closed it, opened it again, closed it a second time, and simply nodded twice. "I agree with Moira, you crazy-ass brass-balled son of a bitch, you had us all fucktardedly worried."

"Sir, it won't happen again, sir," Clarence said.

"No, it won't happen again alone, Sigma Three," Hess said. "A mission like this demanded multiple elements, hit all the locations at once, extract everyone at one time. You gambled and you won, and damn good show, but next time you get a bright idea like this, call us for backup. Just don't do it again alone, we're all in this together."

"Yes, sir," Clarence said, only mildly surprised that Hess wasn't chewing on him too hard for the gamble.

"Now, head in and get cleaned up. We have some celebrating to do."

"Celebration?" Clarence asked, somewhat shocked.

"Dude, serious?" Sigma One asked. "You two just put us on the scoreboard! First contract completed as soon as these last two ladies sign off on it. That alone is worthy of breaking out the champagne and vodka!"

"Oh, oh hell yes!" Clarence said, never considering that angle until after the fact.

"Sigma Mercenaries is now open for business," Moira said with a smile as she presented her tablet to Gabrielle the former hostage for her signature.

"Where do I sign up to join Sigma?" Laticia asked as she was signing the contract release.

"You just did," Hess answered quietly. "Asuka, see the hostages down to medbay, then get their info and get them signed up for quarters and jobs if they want into the unit," Hess ordered.

"You the big guy?" Laticia asked.

"Indeed, I command this Protectorate," Hess said.

Laticia looked Hess up and down thoroughly, then took a hard look into his eyes. "Holy shit. I never thought I would meet a guy that could tear Leef apart by hand, much less gun him down any day of the week. What d'you do for exercise? Bench that machine?" she pointed to the pipelayer that Hess had turned off while the contract was in progress.

"Nah, not quite that much," Erich said with a smile. "Listen, you want to remember that asshole, you want to forget him, your choice. One thing's for damn sure, if he comes looking for you, and I will know if he does, he has some serious shit to work his way through to get a clean shot at you. Rest easy, and see to the kid you're carrying. The Protectorate defends its own, immigrant, adopted, or soon-to-be native-born."

-x-x-x-

(23 March, Magi Year 14408 / Year SL 8838, 0900 Hours Local Time)
(Northern Helipad Field, Base Boarhound, Terra 232)
(Day 6 of Campaign)

"Check your sides," Beck ordered.

"Clear left," Zoe said. "Clear right," she completed the check. "No obstacles, sir."

"Clear to take off," Beck released her.

Zoe, having been a VTOL pilot in the Negaverse Armed Forces prior to immigrating to Magi territory and thereafter to Sigma, was easily able to get the bog-standard Roadrunner VTOL off the ground. She increased the rotor speed from gear zero to gear one, then to gear two, and once at full rotor speed she increased collective to force the rotor blades to grab air instead of slice through it.

To the veteran pilot, the quick jolt as the aircraft lifted off was surprising but not unmanageable. "Whoa! Old girl has some pep for such a bargain-bin craft!"

"She's got it where it counts," Beck said with a smile. He was sitting in one of the jumpseats in the cargo hold, looking into the cockpit area to keep an eye on the unknown quantity in the pilot's seat.

Zoe did some basic maneuver testing on the craft: ascend and descend, side-slip left and right, rotate left and right, and after two or three minutes of playing with the craft had an idea what the controls would do. All the while, like a commensurate safe pilot, Beck noticed she was looking up and about, checking her indicators, checking her sensor system, everything a proper pilot with safety on the mind would do to stay alive in potentially-unfriendly skies.

"Looks like I have the feel on this, sir. Clear to move out?"

"Roger that, make for the southeast corner of the heavy wall, by way of the Jump Engine site," Beck decided on a starting gameplan, then entered the waypoints on his tablet for upload to the helicopter navigation system.

"Rolling now, sir," Zoe acknowledged. As the stated waypoints were off to the left of her present orientation, she did indeed roll in that direction as she reduced tail rotor to both turn, reorient, and apply forward momentum to her craft.

"Damn good," Beck said.

"Ten seconds to the construction site, sir," she said before they arrived at the waypoint. "On the port side."

"Alright, troops, wave to the Boss and the construction crew, you'll probably be helo-lifting him or supporting him from the skies sometime in the next year," Commander Ellsworthy said.

The crew did wave to the construction group, and the three vehicles below returned the favor with their air horns. "Helo One, Virtue, relay message from Sigma One: safe flight on your check rides, take some passes outside of the base to scout the situation on the ground. Report any major unusual findings as needed. Your team may be delivering ambassadors to the exterior zone later in the day."

"Virtue, Helo One, roger your last," Zoe responded. "Continue on the same course, Commander?"

"Roger that," Beck decided. "Once you hit Nav Bravo, cut right to run along the south wall, we'll run east of the base for your checkride."

"Ten-four, sir." At full pace of 162 km/h, going from the construction site south, across the barracks area, across the BEQ and BOQ Housing, then down past the mech hangars and southern training field, crossing the distance only took her roughly three minutes and fifteen seconds. It was an educational experience: the space needed for the large base was immense, and the surrounding area was rural town with well-developed roads and buildings...what was still intact, that is.

"Jesus, is this a ghost town?" Wesley asked.

"No, movement out the port side, nearby that old convenience store," Zoe said, given that her turret system was smart enough to see the persons and highlight them as 'neutral / enemy' forces.

"I see them," Curt said. "Lady and two kids, just made a break for a burned-out house. Jesus Christ, reminds me of Kuwait City without the oil well fires in the distance. Only thing it is missing is Iraqi armor and ADA tracks."

"ADA tracks, sir?" Katherine asked.

"Air Defense Artillery. Iraq had quite a few of them, primarily the ZSU-23-4 Shilka, quad-barrel 23mm machineguns on treads. Get caught in close to one of those fuckers, it's the end of your day and probably the end of your life," Beck explained. "Thankfully, if we're going to go head to head against any anti-air assets, we will have long-range weapons to stay way the hell away from them… or artillery. One good thing about Sigma One, I don't have to tell him about the importance of artillery."

"Artillery is costly, isn't it?" Zoe asked. "I remember hearing some of my officers in the Negaverse Army bitching about their fire support quotas."

"Yeah, some armies prefer that troops are expended rather than munitions. Sigma One is not like that. He would prefer to use a million C-bills of ammo before he wastes a trooper's life," Beck said. "Which I expect from an American. We're a different breed of warfighter when the chips are down, but Hess isn't anywhere near as wastrel as the good old Department of Defense. He believes in fighting hard, fighting smart, and fighting with overwhelming firepower and force. We're gonna get along real well. Cut right after you pass that intersection on the highway, then head north for a few."

"Aye, sir," Zoe said.

"Man, this place is fucked in the skull," Curt said. "I thought living on Hephaestus was bad, but my only hazard there was smog. Around here, if we didn't have the walls to protect our asses, we'd be hamburger."

"Well, Curt, welcome to the clean-up crew," Commander Ellsworthy commented dryly. "And we've got a lot of mopping to do to get this straight."

-x-x-x-

(23 March, Magi Year 14408 / Year SL 8838, 1120 Hours Local Time)
(Train 523, Administration Building Railhead Undercroft, Base Boarhound, Terra 232)
(Day 6 of Campaign)

"Man, look at that shit," Valentina L. complained. "I'm worried about that. I mean, that fat-boy American and his buddies was bad enough, but this? Whole new level of scary."

"I'm telling you guys, those are Magi Armored Infantry, they wouldn't be here if this wasn't a friendly locale," Diana K. complained about the group's sheer obtuseness in the face of their new environment.

"Still not liking this," Anne T. sided with Valentina. The only not-completely-human lady in the small group of Bravo Mafiosi, Anne was Half-Sylph and by far the smallest person in the group, though Diana wasn't much larger and was seven years younger. Her semi-human status had made her paranoid of both Slavers and governments, for roughly the same reasons.

"So now what? They've been patrolling under this roof for two days now, this train isn't going anywhere," Chastity Gwennren said. She was the youngest of the three Gwennren sisters, having been brought on the train at the age of fifteen as slave material until they escaped and joined the Bravo Mafia. Thirteen years later (and five children that were now in the Charlie Mafia), she was the youngest and smallest of the trio, but easily half again larger than Diana.

"Do you think the train has been disabled? Like it can't go anywhere?" Vala asked.

"Very likely," Diana said. "The Magi love catching these Trains where they can destroy the engines and prevent escape. And there was that technical crew working up toward the front some days ago, they had some heavy equipment, so..."

"You're planning something, Diana," Brooke Gwennren prompted. Of the three sisters, she was the oldest, wore the smallest clothes, but had the strength to seize hold of any lady she wanted and crush their head between her (rather large) breasts. Or, at least that is what she claimed about her physique; Diana wasn't particularly in a rush to verify it one way or the other.

"Hell yes I'm planning something," Diana shot back at the much older Brooke. "These are Magi Armored Infantry. This train hasn't moved. We're somewhere that the Magi guard, so I am going to take my chances on them, rather than wait around for the next attempted scrogging by someone I wouldn't normally be caught dead sleeping with."

"Wow, pretentious much?" Valentina asked.

"Look, girl, I'm not here for the Bravos. This is not my defining trait," Diana lifted part of her trenchcoat to reveal the rather modest chest wrap she used to bind herself. "You want to stack your chest against the Armored Infantry, or Hell, even stack them against that fat-boy Militiaman, it'll be you wearing the body bag before the end of the day. Not them. Like I said, I'm gambling on the Magi, or the American. Beats the hell out of the interior of this train."

"I go with Diana," the usually-unobtrusive Crystal said. She was the unit oddball, dressed modestly, didn't speak about her past, didn't sleep with anyone, and nearly completely inept with weapons. Her only saving graces was her excellent ability to see to children and her reasonably average chest that she used for the latter purpose (which, oddly enough, put her at odds with a portion of the Bravo Mafia).

"You too? Why?" Vala asked.

"My past stands with them," she pointed out the window at a passing Armored Infantryman.

"Holy shit, she does have a past," Brooke complained. Crystal simply frowned at the much larger and older lady.

"Okay, you win the conversation," Anne said, then planted her arms on her hips. "What's causing your past to match up with those big armored creepos?"

"It is my sworn duty to find the honored fallen and escort them to their final duty in the battlefields of Valhalla. The Magi are both an excellent source of the fallen, and very efficient generators of the fallen."

The entire group stared at Crystal with agape mouths, though for Diana it did not last long. "You are Valkyrie?" she asked after a few moments.

"Last I checked, yes," Crystal said in a matter-of-fact tone.

"Whoa shit," Anne said. "No wonder you didn't speak much about your past. Any Christian or Muslim up or down this train represents a potential threat to you."

The Valkyrie in their ranks shook her head neg. "I fear not the monotheists, their petty harpings on the shape of an impossible universe are immaterial to my duty. I simply did not mention it because there are few on the Train that would fit the bill of worthiness for the Einherjar."

"Oh really," Vala groused. "So, you two are going to go out there and join up with the Magi or the American. Where does that leave the rest of us? A group of five Bravos is easy prey for Delta units."

"Nothing is stopping you from joining up," Diana said. "Would you rather take the chance of having a stable life, or becoming the next quick screw-and-run victim to a Delta?"

Phrased that way, Vala didn't have much of a choice. She liked some of the Deltas, but not enough to make a habit out of sleeping with them. "Okay, you win. I'll gamble on the Magi, or that fat-boy. Hope there isn't an initiation or anything like that."

"Anyone going to stay?" Diana asked. No such response came. "Okay, time for some first contact."

The youngest among them was also the least reserved about going to the window nearby a patrolling Armored Infantryman, and with the window dropped she simply stuck her head out the portal to look around. A quick glance and she had the measure of these Magi: twenty-five of them or near enough to, circulating around the platforms of the Railhead they were parked in.

"Ho, travelers!" an approaching Armored Infantryman said. By his voice, Diana figured him easily old enough to be her father by age, or possibly old enough to be her grandfather. "How stand you, miss?"

"I've had better years," Diana said. "If I may ask, where are we? Magi territory?"

"Neg, miss, we are in a Protectorate of the Empire, called the Protectorate of Sigma. The Protectorate Administrator is the large American Militiaman that cleared through the Train about a week ago."

"Oh, good God," Brooke said as she stuck her head out the window three seats forward of Diana. "That big guy, he's running a government now? God help us all."

"For what he intends, he is doing far better than expected," the Armored Infantryman pointed out. "If you're wondering why the train isn't moving anymore, the Jump Engines have been removed and put into service for the base to move personnel and material."

"That answers that," Valentina said. "We're doomed to go nowhere fast."

"Worse than that, milady," the Armored Infantryman declared with some amusement to voice. "This Train, as with every other Train, is slated for full sweep clear and disassembly. The Protectorate has been commissioned by the Executors to remove the Trains from Existence, a duty to which the Militiaman-turned-Administrator is all too willing to do."

"Whoa," Crystal the Valkyrie said with some surprise. "What are our prospects for learning the trades of warfare in these lands?"

"Look above you," the Armored Infantryman said to the group. The seven ladies had a bit of a challenge to look upward, but with some jostling and twisting could see the ceiling of the Railhead Undercroft. "Above those rafters and ceiling plates is Base Boarhound, the principal fortress of the Protectorate. Over 400 persons have already signed on to his effort, and more come in from the Star Empires and contested lands by the day. If you want primacy of place, now would be the time to act and set yourself into a path of prosperity through strength and honor."

"Can you open the door in the dining car down the way? I think it's time to get started." Surprisingly, the comment was from Anne.

-x-x-x-

(23 March, Magi Year 14408 / Year SL 8838, 1345 Hours Local Time)
(BOQ 031 (Vash The Stampede's residence), Base Boarhound, Terra 232)
(Day 6 of Campaign)

Moira preceded Hess to the door of the quarters, due to some heated tempers inside that were quite audible to the SPO and the officer. After a moment to compose herself, she pressed the doorbell and listened to the eight-note door chime, hoping that this wasn't an inordinately bad time to visit the three of them.

The door opened to the visage of Millie Thompson, which Hess expected to a degree. Of the three, Vash, Meryl, and Millie, it was the latter that was least likely to be in a shouting match. "Oh, Mister Hess! I was not expecting you to call upon us so soon!"

"How did she…?" Moira let the sentence trail off.

"If this is a bad time, I can come back later," Hess yielded the initiative to her, but suspected he knew how she would answer nonetheless.

"No, actually, we were discussing the matter and the events of last night. If you would wish to speak to Meryl and Vash about the matter, it would be most helpful," Millie said as she opened the door fully.

The BOQ buildings, individual quarters for the officers and their families, were all assembled alike. The front room opened up to the kitchen and dining area behind it, and a patio outside the back door in the kitchen. A series of staircases were at the junction of the kitchen and dining area, with one staircase up to the bathroom and bedrooms, and a second staircase down to a basement and crawlspace. All in all, not a bad middle-of-the-road house, especially when built by the hundreds on Star League base facilities throughout known Existence.

Millie led the SPO and the commander into the kitchen, where Meryl was pretty much at Vash's throat trying to strangle him. "Meryl! If you kill all the spiders to save — " Their arguing and physical altercation came to an end after Hess entered and Vash realized who the new entrant was.

"If you kill all the spiders to save the butterflies, you become the spider," Hess completed Vash's sentence for him.

Meryl stopped her attempt to strangle the much taller Vash and bowed to the two new entrants. "My apologies that you had to see such disgraceful conduct, sir."

"So you know what this is about," Vash said.

Hess sighed. "I can guess two reasons. One, the overarching concept of the Protectorate, or two, the execution of a self-incriminated and very unapologetic rapist and murderer." Hess hesitated as he read Vash's expressions. "Or is it both?"

"Both," was said at the same time by Meryl and Vash.

"Not surprising," Moira said.

"And both are very valid lines of complaint on the face of it," Hess said as he leaned back against the partition wall between the dining room and the living room areas. "Allow me to preface this by saying that I am no manner of saint to begin with, and that I probably have a bit of a skewed definition of how to deal with right and wrong."

"Probably also have a skewed definition of what is right and wrong," Meryl pointed out.

"Yeah, probably, but so far nobody has complained about it, and I am flexible about input from outside sources… within limits." Hess flexed his shoulders to settle his Dragon Scale Six body armor. "Now, two separate issues, two separate answers. First, the mercenary work is, I must admit, morally ambiguous leaning black. Nothing is really compelling me to operate a mercenary force except financial purposes, but as these things happen, that is its own motivation in the case of Sigma. Follow?"

"I follow, but I don't understand why," Vash said. "You're going to use death to make money? That isn't morally ambiguous, that is morally corrupt."

"Yes and no," Sigma One said. "This is one of those great quandaries of time and space, but not impossible to follow. If I take the contract, my force goes out, kicks some ass, comes home. Have you considered what happens if I don't take the contract?"

"Not really. Nothing?" Meryl asked. Hess shook his head neg after she dropped her guess.

"The contract is not normally optional on the part of the employer. When we operate, we do it with reduced casualties. If we don't operate, the original battleplan is put in place by the contractee, which is very likely a lot more bloody than we intend. Additionally, contracts served in our fashion may reduce or eliminate the necessity of future battles entirely, because our operations eliminated the threat or prevented the threat from becoming to begin with."

"So you're saying when you do it, you do it right," Meryl made sure she was understanding his position before they continued.

"Not necessarily absolutely right, but definitely better, cleaner, faster, when possible. Sometimes, to terminate a campaign, we will have to go overkill in one battle to prevent further battles in the intended campaign." Erich said calmly. "The only absolutely right war is the war that is never fought."

"Okay, on that we can agree," Vash said.

"Like I said, kill the spiders, become the spider, but in my case I prefer my two legs and one bad knee. I don't need nor want six more, follow?" Hess groused. "Anyway, when I started this party, though, it was with the express consideration that we would not be doing straight combat detail. Like the contract just executed this morning, no shots were fired by our guys, though Clarence absorbed three rounds in the process of the final sortie."

"Oh dear," Millie said. "Is he hurt?"

"No, body armor stopped the rounds," Sigma One said. "Clarence did a contract to extract four ladies from hostile environs and was able to free four prostitutes from their pimp's virtual house arrest. On the last extract, the pimp or one of his enforcers tried shooting Clarence before the last gate snap. No major injuries, and we received two impoverished families and four ladies, plus 640 C-bills and some jewelry."

"Okay, that's… okay, I think I stand corrected. You're now running a charity operation?" Mery asked.

"Well, yes?" Hess asked, unsure what exactly she was now referring to. "And if you look at it that way, the merc work is to fund the charity, help people get on their feet."

"This is so wrong," Vash said. "I can't accept you hurting the people."

"Then become the foil to that necessity," Hess said. "Now that we have a helo team, I was going to call on you to begin the ambassador work outside the base. If you still wish to attempt, the offer still stands." Vash gave Sigma One a hard look, to which Hess figured he had the proper rejoinder. "If you want to save the butterflies, now is the time to make the move, free them from the web of the prior government's failures."

"And what will you do if we can't save the butterflies peaceably?" he asked in counter.

"Not every spider is venomous, some will simply build a small web and stay out of the way. Only those who are venomous or aggressive will be dealt with. Others will be left in place until their webs collapse in the high winds of the coming storm," Hess ran the metaphor out to the logical conclusion of his plan.

Vash considered the concept for a good minute. "When do I leave?"

-x-x-x-

(23 March, Magi Year 14408 / Year SL 8838, 1530 Hours Local Time)
(Mobile Forces Hangar 3D-22, Base Boarhound, Terra 232)
(Day 6 of Campaign)

"This is it," Star Colonel Gail Storme said. "This is what I pilot most of the time, though I will admit to being expert-rated for Gundams and most Mobile Suits as well."

"Now that's a hunk of hardware," Victoria said. "What model is it?"

"Dire Wolf," Gail answered. "I use my own pod configuration on it, not one of the common pod sets. The entire right arm is a Hyper Assault Gauss Rifle, the 40-charge type that can hock a third of a ton of Tungsten-ferrite penetrators in four seconds." She pointed to the other arm. "Left arm has a Large Pulse Laser and two Medium Pulse Lasers." Her aimpoint changed to the body of the massive machine. "Torso has two fairly rare weapons for the Magi common use, 'Mech Mortar 4-tube launchers. Four tons of ammo for those give me sixteen shots total per tube set, and five tons of ammo for the HAG."

"Some longevity," Clarence pointed out. "Why the mortars?"

"Better at clearing out infantry and battle armor troops. I can sit on the far side of a hill from enemy infantry forces, have my subordinate infantry spot targets for me, and just hammer them flat with the enemy never once seeing me in action. And, if they do try to close up on me, the lasers and the HAG will end them very quickly."

"Okay, that makes perfect sense," Clarence said. "I rather like that thought."

"Mortars are also, shot for shot, more lethal to unprotected infantry than most other weapon systems, and they are extremely cost effective for their overall price," Gail pointed out. "The mortars on this unit have roughly the striking power of three LRMs when using shape-charge rounds, or the AP striking power of two AP SRMs when using AP ammo. And, unlike using AP SRMs, when you use an AP Mortar against an armored target, the target still takes damage as well as any accompanying infantry. Also has airburst shells, semi-guided shells for use with TAG spotters, flare, smoke, inferno, cluster, and a few more."

"I can hear the gears grinding, boss," Victoria said. "What are you thinking?"

"I am guessing there are more tube arrays than simply a four-tube launcher?" Hess asked the Star Colonel.

"Comes in tube sizes of one tube, two tubes, four, eight, and ten. Smaller tube arrays weigh less, larger one weigh more and take up more space. The tube arrays change how fast you spam those mortars downrange, and conversely how fast you chew through the tons of ammo you carry onboard. It's 32 mortar shells to the ton, except for the munitions for the 10 mortar which are 30 to the ton."

"Nice," Clarence said. "Whoa, love, you're right. Hess really is grinding gears on this."

"I should warn you, ton for ton standard LRMs will cause more damage than Mortars, but by the hard numbers indirect fire support is best delivered by Mortars. Except for the artillery units, that is, but you're already standing tall for the big guns," Star Colonel Storme warned him.

"They don't call it a Long Tom Artillery Piece without reason," Hess said with a perfectly straight face. "Still for the battlefield application of indirect whoopass, I think we may want to move Mortars as an option. What is the Magi production availability for 'Mech Mortars?"

"They're an uncommon weapon, personal preference, but there's always a yahoo or three in a Cluster that will use them. I'm sure if you asked some of the major manufacturers, they could ramp up production," Gail said.

"I think we have a concept going forward," Sigma One said. "This is where the ordinance meets the battle line, people. One, we need to do everything we can to support our infantry with the armor units. Mortars are handy for that, because of their lethality against enemy infantry. Two, we will be fighting primarily enemy Infantry in an engagement scenario, so dropping the whoopass on an enemy is a handy process to use."

"Don't pigeonhole yourself, though," Clarence said. "We'll want both; I have been studying up on common weapon systems, and I think we would do best to use all of them."

"And you will want to make extensive use of SRMs as well as Mortars, to cover for the rather inconvenient minimum range of the Mortars. Lasers, Machine Guns, AP Gauss Rifles, all are useful weapons against infantry forces," Gail amplified Clarence's statement.

"Oh, no such concern," Hess said. "I like a good 'all of the above' approach. So, what does it normally take to change out weapons pods on an omnimech?"

"Either a hangar or a Mobile Field Base, usually," Gail said. "If you have a competent MFB crew, they can do a partial armor repair job and a pod switch-out in twenty minutes. It won't get it back to factory fresh, but it may make a helluva lot of difference in a slugfest, and if you have more MFB units, you can do more machines at the same time."

"Ammo replenishment?" Hess asked in follow up.

"Depends on what unit. Omnimechs by and large have their ammo in cellular pods for loading and unloading. Non-omni battlemechs are a grab bag. Some require munitions feeding by access hatches, some have removable magazines for their guns, some require feeding munitions in by the salvo through the gun ports. Depends on what you're working, but most reload jobs don't require a MFB to accomplish, just an ammo hauler, an ordinance crew with some brass clangers, and a few minutes unharassed to fill 'er up."

"Nice," Victoria said. "I'll work on finding the crews, you guys can work on the units."

"And that's where I come in," Jeff Evans said as he approached the group. "Sorry I'm late, doing some personnel research."

"No worries, been a busy day for all of us. So, Jeff, I think I would like to pose a challenge to you. Nothing immediate, we're not in a rush for the units right now, but some point in the future, I want domestically-produced ground combat vehicles and mobile forces, based on existing and to-be-engineered designs, with the express purpose of supporting our infantry forces. What say you? Up to the challenge of turning heavy armor units into infantry support platforms with a secondary of armor fighting?"

"Dead simple, actually, especially when you're looking at an Omnimech. Just create pod groups for the anti-infantry work, and if you have to do anti-armor, switch out to something more conventional. That said, the price tags of most of the Clan Omnimechs are atrocious. We can do better, easily, as soon as we have the manufacturing in place."

"You have a plan already?" Gail said.

"Just the concept, really. Mosely and I were talking about it last night while replacing fluorescent bulbs in the Support Services Building. The Clan Omnimechs are designed for their form of combat — fast-moving, hard hitting, short and vicious 'mech dueling. The Magi use those platforms with a lot of their own designs because they are standardized and reliable machines. If we want to do hard-hitting cost-efficient machines of our own, we need to rethink the Clan design philosophies."

"Cut down on the engine, change over to a standard engine rather than a Light or Extralight, and you drop 40 to 60 percent off the price tag right there," Star Colonel Storme said.

"One of the plans, yes," Jeff said. "Another is to pull in existing designs, working or failed, and reengineer them for our own purposes."

That idea had SC Storme's attention. "That's a solid plan, and one the Magi have used off and on over the years. You'll need to have your ducks in a row to tinker with existing platforms, though. One wrong mod and you compromise a design."

"Oh, yeah, we'll have the numbers lined up," Jeff assured them.

"I think I'm going to enjoy this," Gail said. "If it works, I'll test pilot it."

"I think I need to learn how to pilot a Battlemech," Hess said. "Fear of heights notwithstanding."

-x-x-x-

(23 March, Magi Year 14408 / Year SL 8838, 1800 Hours Local Time)
(Firearms Range, Administration Building basement level 1, Base Boarhound, Terra 232)
(Day 6 of Campaign)

"We're all here? Good," Toni said.

"What's the gig?" Erin D. said.

"We do morning drilling, but that's not enough. We're supposed to be protecting the Callsigns, but if shit came to shove, it would be them protecting us. Rather defeats our purpose, ne?"

"Oh, kinda like the big guy picking up a free 'nade from the downed lady?" Rasine asked.

"That was pretty hard," Leonora said.

"Okay, if we're supposed to sharpen up, what are you thinking?" Asuka asked fairly. Her ward for the day, Clarence, was retired to quarters to play some poker with the other Callsigns and the Executor, which freed up the Secret Service for training.

"This," Toni said. "Range Control, execute structured training scenario Secret Service House Random."

Behind Toni, the range area built itself up using the structured nanomachines into a single-floor structure that looked rather shady. "Okay, what is this about?" Sapphire asked.

"We can stand here for years, blowing holes in targets and simulates, and we won't reach the level of proficiency that Hess or Clint has. The why is simple: if you want to fight like you're in the real world, you need to train a lot closer to the real world. And this is where it is: the shoot house."

"Oh," Moira said. "I think Clint was going to have some similar drills for the Rail Guard groups."

"Exactly," Toni said. "This is where we start putting all the drills together, the moving, the shooting, the room-clearing, threat identification, the works. As we get better, we'll start introducing more realistic standards until we're doing AI-driven human simulates in a force-on-force engagement."

"Oh boy," Crystal griped. "This is going to get tough fast."

"No joke. I can barely handle the ACR, Now we're going full-bore into a threat house? Gods help us, we're gonna need it," Asuka complained to the ceiling.

"Hence the purpose of the training," Toni said. "Now, the threat scape is simple. We have steel ringer plates in here for tangos and non-threat parties. Shoot either, you get the steel clang. Fail to shoot a threat, you get sprayed with a jet of water and some pretty offensive dish soap. Shoot a hostage, you get it in the face. Two fails, you're done."

"Gods help us," Asuka groused.

"You're going to need it, Asuka. You and Crystal are the first in. You know the process, right?"

-x-

(Same time)
(Clarence's Quarters, Administration Building fourth floor)

The poker game had died aborning when Virtue reported that Toni and Sidonia had stepped up the gun training of the Secret Service with a shoot house drill.

"I see this ending with mixed results," Clint said. "I figure six, seven of them know how to handle the boomstick-of-choice properly, the others need more time on the static target range before they can expect decent results in a dynamic engagement."

"It starts less than stellar," Clarence said.

"Aye," Nereus deflated. "Spirited but untrained," he judged.

"Spirited but aggressive," Hess dropped his own judgment. "Their technical form is near nonexistent. Their corner checks are atrocious, and they're passing by some obvious ambush spots."

"Bad training is worse than no training, boss," Victoria pointed out.

"No argument from me. Let them do a full training run, then while Virtue is chewing on them, we gear up and step them through proper room clearing drills."

"They definitely need it," Clint said.

-x-

(20 minutes later)

Despite Toni and Sidonia's successes with the Randomized shoot house earlier in the day, everyone ended up racking up the two errors necessary to disqualify them. The nasty dish soap water was indeed plenty of motivation to do it right.

Sidonia opened the front door to the shoot house, looked back to where Toni was following her, and groaned. "We did fine this morning, what the hell happened?"

"I don't know," Toni said as she cleared the doorway. As she looked around the room, she noticed there were too many people in the area. "We have an audience now?" Toni asked.

"Instructors," Sigma Two said. Asuka, Moira, Leandra, and Sapphire stepped aside to allow the command section to step forward. "Virtue told us about what was going on, and the dismal result," Clint continued.

"If you want to do it right, you have to learn how to do it right — that means learning it from someone who knows it," Clarence said.

Sidonia smiled. "Okay, this I gotta see." She held up a PMag to Clarence. "Make it happen."

"Two pairs, Clint has point," Hess said as Clarence loaded up the magazine and dropped his bolt. "Stack, breach, bang and clear."

"10-4," Clint locked in a magazine and dropped the bolt on a live round.

"Virtue, randomize interior and provide a simulated entry ram," Hess ordered. The ram appeared on the shooter's tables, formed of the nanomachines into a simulate of a solid metal one-man doorbuster.

"Interior is ready," Virtue reported after sixty seconds.

"Ready to make entry," Clint prompted the boss.

Hess twisted his body around about two-thirds, extended the ram to full arm's reach, and spun back with his mass and upper body strength behind the mini-ram. One strike caused the door to swing violently open and one of the hinges separated from the frame.

Clint and Victoria both threw flashbangs into the entry room, which detonated two seconds after they were loosed. Clint and Clarence entered first, Clint moved right immediately and swept the strong-side near corner, then Clarence entered less than a second later and did the weak-side near corner. As Hess jumped off, four shots inside rang off steel plates inside, the sound of Clarence dropping a tango while Victoria entered and mopped up the remainder of the left side.

"Door right," Clint half-shouted.

"Door forward," Clarence said.

"Element two has right," Hess declared. Victoria stacked on the short hallway, Hess stacked up behind her, and gave her shoulder a squeeze to indicate ready to go. Down the short hallway, three branching rooms awaited the element, all with doors closed. Victoria stopped at the first door for entry, and Hess again gave her shoulder a squeeze to begin the movement. Mrs. Williams levered the door handle down, pushed through, and immediately went right. Hess entered and went forward (no left direction in the room), and checked behind the precariously-positioned couch. A steel plate was on the ground with a bad guy silhouette, simulating a tango on the ground with a gun up. Two shots, two rings, done.

In the distance, Hess heard the sound of another target plate ringing with several hits, and the deeper crack of a pistol being used. Victoria and Hess exited, checked left quickly toward the entry hall (no tango), and moved to the second room. This time, Erich took the jumpoff position and received the shoulder tap to move, where he twisted through the door-handle and entered. This time, the door was abutted against the right wall, so he immediately went left and came muzzle-to-face against a photo of a lady holding her baby. Victoria entered and found nothing forward, so they bounced back out again.

More ringing in the distance. "Clint has his work cut out for him."

"Left was the larger area to cover, more tangos," Hess judged. "Take point."

"Got it," Victoria said as they formed up on the last door, which included the sound of a shower running. Once positioned and signaled, the HR Commander levered into the door and went in.

Victoria went right as the entry person should, and Hess went left. The shower head was indeed running, showering down a steel target with a tango silhouette, so he fired four rounds into the steel plate to render a kill. "Clear," Hess said.

"Hold," Victoria said, pointing her rifle behind the toilet. "Plate with a bigass spider on it." (4)

"Give it four and call it a run," Hess said. Victoria drilled the tarantula silhouette behind the toilet four times and dropped a glowstick in the doorway to signal cleared.

On the way out, Hess caught sight of a tango silhouette at the corner of the hallway in the entry room, representing an an enemy that tried to sneak up and ambush the entry team. Hess popped the guy twice in the forehead, an easy shot at ten yards, and physically knocked down the target stand when they got back into the entry area. "Right rooms clear, what's your status Clint?"

"Forward rooms clear, six tangos down," Clint reported by radio. "All right, Virtue, let's hear it. Did we miss anything?"

"Negative, all enemies are down, all hostages theoretically rescued."

"All right, message received," Toni said. "We're here to learn."

-x-x-x-

(23 March, Magi Year 14408 / Year SL 8838, 2030 Hours Lunar Standard Time)
(Senator Glivenne's Office, Star League Administration Building, Luna Zero)
(Day 6 of Campaign)

"I will preface this briefing by saying that the following mission is outside the jurisdiction of the Star League, which means you will have no legal protections or authority in the objective area. Additionally, the target you are to conduct operations against is possibly hardened and well defended, despite his physical handicaps. If you are discovered, you are very likely to be executed. Should any of you feel that operating in such environs poses too great a risk, you may stand down now. No person will think you a coward or uncommitted to Star League dominion should you choose to decline."

Five seconds elapsed before anyone spoke up. "This is nothing new to us, Senator. We go where you deem necessary."

"Seconded, ma'am," the second Intelligence Officer said.

"No force will resist Star League dominion," the one lady amongst the three said adroitly.

Senator Glivenne nodded three times, by which she regarded the three Intelligence Officers in front of her. All three were 'Espionage' specialists, though while capable to a degree of lethal actions, their primary purpose was simply to get inside and recruit a network of agents to feed intel back to the Star League.

Their target, for this mission, was small but very fat and juicy.

"These are your briefing folders." Mandy advanced three folder stacks to the operators. "The long and short of your deployment is thus. We have reactivated the Train Beacon here on Luna Zero to snare a Jumper Train. You three will infiltrate the Train, assimilate into it separate of each other, and once in place we will deactivate our Train Beacon. The next Train Jump will likely see you caught in the new Train Beacon on Terra 232."

"The Protectorate of Sigma," the first of the Intelligence Officers immediately put a name to the location.

"Exactly. You will take the position of Train Refugees, which will allow you to assimilate into their burgeoning society, and with the expected influx of personnel it is likely that you will be lost in the noise of resettlement. Once you're inside, it is up to you how to do your infiltration, or what segments of their barbarian society to infiltrate, but your ultimate purpose is to get inside and compromise their operations. How or when you do this is entirely at your judgment, I just want results."

"Will we have any support on the ground?" the lady asked.

"Unknown, but try to establish contact with the Artificial Intelligence entities. It is entirely possible that this Protectorate is being run in spite of their controls; if that is the case, you can use the AI entities to mask your espionage and sabotage efforts."

"We will do it, ma'am," the elder of the two guys said.

Senator Glivenne's intercom rang. "Senator, word from the Jump Engineer's guild has arrived. They have trapped Train 112407 and are ready to infiltrate the travelers."

Senator Glivenne stood up and came to attention. "Read your material en route, what little there is. Good luck. We stand in defense of the stars!"

"We guard the worlds with our lives," the three Intelligence Officers replied the traditional chant of the Star League Defense Forces.

-x-

(35 minutes later)
(Office of the Will Transcendent, Temple of the Executors, Luna Zero)

Three knocks at the door to his office told Eric audibly what he knew was coming regardless. Even with psionic-shielded and distortion-shielded walls, the Master Executors could be easily sensed moving around the Temple, and Atrebas was just as much a victim of that incomplete silencing as the other Masters. That said, the psionic silencing on these walls was old and engineered for Executors below the rating of Master Executor; the best of the best were simply overpowering the protections, such as they were.

"Enter," Atrebas said.

The door opened to reveal the lady that Eric considered the flat-out least likely person in Known Existence to ever take on the duties of an Executor, with the possible exception of Mahatma Gandhi. Hotaru Tomoe, Master Executor of Silence, had been in her past almost completely harmless and very much unobtrusive, until the Silence Glaive had chosen her for duty. Not long after that choice, Sora Takenouchi (Queen Serenity as she was more often known) had found the fledgling lady with the sharpest relic weapon and brought her into the fold. Not initially an Executor, Princess Saturn had served as Retainer to Sora Takenouchi through the founding of the Star League and slowly built herself up to a rating with the Executors, but it would be her personal life that broke her through to the Executors' ranks and unleashed her true potential. Now, she was the number two Executor in overall personal magic power and lethality, second only to her husband but that a small margin at best. Present betting amongst the Executors was on Hotaru in a match against her husband.

Still, even for the number two power spot, everyone still answered to the Will Transcendent — Atrebas himself. "Sir, report on tango activity pertaining to the Sigma Protectorate." Master Executor Tomoe said as she presented him a folder with several documents.

Eric took roughly fifteen seconds to read through the actual meat of the report. The remainder of the pages were informational, technical details on the persons sent by the Senate to do dirty deeds to (theoretically) unsuspecting parties.

"I'll give the old longhorn mountain goat Glivenne the credit of her fast action, but anyone with a quarter of a working knowledge of Star League vanity expected this."

"All well and good for us, my liege, but what of the Protectorate?" Hotaru asked bluntly.

"Nereus would know to keep an ear out for these kinds of shenanigans. Hess, likely, given his profile, and most certainly on the part of the turncoat AI entities. Still, specific knowledge of the matter would be appropriate to hand over to them, no?"

"That is my recommendation, sir," Hotaru said with a nod.

"I'll let you handle the call-in to inform them of their coming company." Atrebas returned the folder. "Thank you for the prompt action on this."

"Aff, my liege," Hotaru said. "By your leave?"

"Have a good evening, milady Saturn," Atrebas said graciously.

-x-

(5 minutes later; 2345 Hours Local Time)
(Hess' Quarters, Administration Building fourth floor, Base Boarhound, Terra 232)

The impromptu training session had run long and hard for everyone involved, necessitating a late-night shower for Hess after Toni had had hers. Still, the period to cool down and to review the action of the day was much welcomed by Sigma One. As things were going right now, all was operating in plan and all would fall into place here in the next couple weeks for ongoing operations. It would be some weeks still before any major combat-centric contracts could be fulfilled, but that was to be expected. One does not drop a rifle into the hands of a greenhorn and say an army is formed; troopers with any amount of decent skill or discipline required hard training.

Still, the possibility of expanding capabilities was very enticing to Hess. Mechanized Warfare was a necessity on the battlefields of the Star Empires, and as it happened, it was also the key advantage that made most pre-Industrial Age contracts a gold mine in potentia. Proper application of mechanized whoopass would also be fundamental to completing more advanced contracts with any semblance of order and safety for the troops involved —

"Sir, I have a call from the Star League Executors on Luna Zero, they want to speak to you and myself," Virtue reported.

Hess slapped the valve closed on the shower. "Can you do audio-only? Would that be considered uncivil in this case?"

"The incoming transmission is audio-only, and it is very heavily encrypted. The Executor who is calling us is trying to minimize interception."

Hess shook himself off to the best of his abilities, to reduce the sound of dripping water. "Feed the audio in."

The intercom beeped twice to signal a connection. "Is this Erich Hess, callsign Sigma One?" a lady asked.

"Confirmed, this is Sigma One. To whom am I speaking?" Hess asked.

"I am Master Executor Hotaru Tomoe. Eric Atrebas sends his regards and congratulates you on your opening moves towards the four objectives," she said.

VOICE CONFIRMED, Virtue acknowledged on a data panel that was integrated into the shower.

"Aye, ma'am, and please convey my thanks to the Will Transcendent. How may I be of service this evening?" Hess asked after a quick moment to consider his tack.

"No such regard needed, you are already doing us all a grand service by disassembling the Trains. And, in this case, the Trains are what I must speak to you and Virtue about."

"I am listening, milady," Hess said.

"As am I," Virtue cut in audibly.

"Train 112407, Jumper Train, in excess of 2000 cars. It will not be snared by your Train Beacon for some six months, completely in counter to the intentions of the Star League Grand Council," Hotaru began.

"The SLGC is involved? That tells me they have a poison pill on board," Hess drew the necessary conclusion immediately.

"Three, actually. A certain vociferous Senator wanted you to trap the Train quickly, but your Beacon is not turned on, so the Train in question goes into circulation for six months. The SLGC has planted three spies on the Train to infiltrate the Protectorate when they arrive and are extracted. Since the Train is going to circulate for months, one of the spies will be killed by Mafiosi and dumped overboard during transit, one will stew in place until extraction, and the lady amongst the three will go underground with the Bravo Mafia and end up pregnant before she is removed."

"And suddenly, a line from a movie from my homeland is echoing in my mind. Die Hard, the main character throws a body out a window to convince a street cop that something is going wrong in the building, and shouts at the street, 'Welcome to the party, Pal!' Or would that be a bit too much karmic backlash for the SLGC?"

"A good movie, but a dreadful scenario in real life," Hotaru acknowledged the point. "I am sure, if you are contracted by Nakatomi, you can solve the scenario with no loss of life in the hostages, if you put the right minds and assets into play."

"Oh boy," Hess grumped after he allowed himself to forget the golden rule of dimension hopping: if it existed in fiction somewhere, it existed in reality in some other alternate dimension.

"Still, your overarching mental theme is most certainly applicable. This whole scenario is karmic backlash waiting to happen, but you must be willing to play it smart for the best result. After six months, with one dead, one disaffected, and one about to be an unforeseen mother, they'll be ready to jump into your arms once they see that the Star League is screwing the pooch on the Trains," Hotaru said.

"Do you have any guidance, ma'am?" Virtue asked.

"Your Train Team must play by your rules of engagement in their entirety. If that is achieved, and your support services are fully ready to induct the refugees, you will break their morale and cause them to turn coat. As it happens, your present course should achieve this objective."

The message on the monitor in the shower told Hess enough. He was speaking to a lady that could read the future and predict results with absolute accuracy. That meant her whole tale was not only standing intelligence, but predictive analysis of events to come.

"I'll see to it things go down in our favor and by the plan. I don't think I'll move on the spies immediately, I'll let them see what they've been asked to compromise, allow them to make up their own minds," Sigma One fronted. "Even if they don't turn coat, having the eyes of the enemy watching the non-actions of an uninvolved party may at least allay their fears that I am out to demolish the SLGC."

"Then you already have the way forward to break this operation wide open," Hotaru said. "The document upload is completed. Enjoy the rest of your shower and have a good evening, Sigma One. This is Master Executor Tomoe, out." The connection beeped once to signal an end to the call.

Hess waited ten seconds, motionless. "That was mildly creepy."

"She would naturally know you were in the shower, hence the audio-only conversation by Micro-Gate Laser Transmission," Virtue pointed out.

"Oh, I guessed that much after you explained the whole 'can read the past, present and future intrinsically' thing. Doesn't lessen the inherent chill in my spine over it, but I suppose this is something I must get used to. After all, they are allies, and I am inclined to honor an ally, even the ones that kinda worry me a little."

"Then all is well in the Protectorate, for today at least," Virtue said.

---

Author's Chapter Afterword:

And so the exodus from the train begins…

This is pretty much a bridge chapter between the initial growing pains and the next wave of cramps and indigestion. With the coming cleanout of the first train and the eventual switch-on of the Train Beacon, the size of the Protectorate is going to increase exponentially. The next big step for the Protectorate is getting all their forces assembled and start doing the real dirty work of cleaning trains out and taking on minor contracts.

Speaking of contracts, Sigma has completed its first! On my initial write of the story, never got to that point despite the advanced timeline of the first run. In this case, it wasn't much of a contract, but it set the pace. Keep in mind, the rescue contract that was executed is going to be a fairly common faire, with somewhere in the neighborhood of 8% of contracts on MercNet being rescues of one type or another. Their complexity, circumstances, and even their sizes will get larger and more diverse as time goes on, though some times the sine qua non of an operational job would be drop in, collect person, jump out. It really does amount to a bang-it-and-leave-it job, but hey, something like this can be done multiple times in a day, so the troops are earning their paychecks.

The other big one is the helicopters have left the ground. In coming chapters, you will see more helos in the sky and more combat units besides the cargo haulers. The Roadrunner helo is going to be a Sigma mainstay — it is most certainly not flashy, but it is effective and it is very cheap for what they use it for. And, much like the Blackhawk of United States fame, these helos can be rebuilt for a multitude of purposes. Same goes for the Chinook II-F, they are low-cost fusion-powered craft, nothing flashy, designed to ferry troops and cargo and not much else.

And, like the rest of the series, there are many minor points. Training, physical conditioning, setup for events to come. The spy incident at the end of the chapter, I think I will detail this one in a side story before and during their arrival to Sigma territory. It will be a long-term thing, like is said the Train in question is six months away from arrival, but doable. Of course, the battle between the Executors and the Grand Council is an overarching melee that casts a shadow over all of Sigma, but that is another problem for another day.

Nothing too entertaining or racy on the personal involvement front in this chapter, but I have some things intended for the next chapter, soo…

That's it for me. NEXT UP: Another day in the land of the Mercenaries, another contract, and another c-bill. But, outside the walls, things begin heating up...

---

Review Replies: 4 reviews for Chapter 6. Much thank you all, loving the feedback!

Kphoenix: Clean, registered review this time!

So far, Hess knows something is up with Toni, but it is farther down the list of things to worry about than most others. Don't worry, though, that list of problems will creep up on him real fast.

The matter with the Senate is, oddly enough, not so much stupidity as it is hubris and raw arrogance. The Senators are the top level of the Star League, which includes them thinking they have command authority over the Executors. PROTIP: The Executors take their orders from Atrebas, not a trumped-up political appointee such as a Senator. That is also something that will come to a head during the Sigma series, but way later down the timeline.

I figured you'd notice the listing of nations :) Yes, there is a story, but I'll save it for the actual time that it shows up in the Jokers Wild.

On the matter of a group that runs counter to Atrebas' intentions, yes, they do exist. Loki's worshippers are numerous throughout the parallels, and there is a shadow force known simply as the Eternal Darkness that challenges everyone it can cross. The Crusaders, despite their run-ins with the Executors, are not enemies; their status will be detailed much later into the Sigma series, though at this point in the timeline they are already reconciled to the Executors and considered allies.

Oh, no concern about the issue with Sephiroth and the Crusaders, it still happened. Keep in mind, the Executors are easily powerful enough to use resurrective magic, and remember that a slain soul stands in front of Atrebas should they die in his dominion. Sephiroth is included in that, and he got a vacation out of the encounter with the Crusaders as well as put in motion a larger and nastier battle between the Crusaders and Atrebas himself.

Thanks for the large review!

Holy Dragoon: He could have done a Moogle, but Atrebas figured putting him back into the same playing field on the flip-side of the coin was the best solution.

Sajuuk: You can rest assured, a lot of your thoughts are already in motion.

WinBlades: Keep in mind, Sigma is not married to anything specific, but are leaning in the direction of the high-lethality units. That does not mean there is no room for smaller units like Wanzers or Arm Slaves. It is the Star Empires that are more or less married to the heavies, for more than a few reasons that will be better covered in the MMC.

On the matter of the Von Luckner IIM (Your spelling was only missing one letter), it is a high-sticker-price Main Battle Tank, not an urban bruiser. If I was going to delve into CQB in armor, I'd use something more along the lines of the Challenger X, which is designed to tear things up in close. For certain, a competently-piloted Arm Slave with CQB weapons could shred a Von Luckner in the confines of an urban center, which means that the tank commander was a dumbass for going somewhere his machine was not set up for. Always use the right units for the anticipated terrain, y'dig?

Thanks for the review!

MUCH THANK YOU ALL FOR THE REVIEWS! Hotter fire, harder steel! Keep it coming!

---

The Gripe Sheet:

No technical complaints this go-around! Thanks to One Village Idiot, Necroblade, Sieben Nightwing, and Takeshi Yamato for keeping it all straight!

Footnotes:

(1): Fusion Engine Polymer is a less-reactive liquid polymer of hydrogen, carbon and silicon that is mostly used as a way to get hydrogen to the fusion engine in an orderly fashion. The Polymer is non-homogenous, a combination of a liquid rubber polymer and a nonreactive or counter-reactive liquid such as Naphtha distillation byproducts. Fusion Engines have an electrolysis system in the fuel feed mechanism that allows it to break down hydrocarbons, hydrosilicates, or hydrogen-bearing molecules to create diatomic hydrogen, the material that feeds the actual engine. Electricity, being the intended product of the fusion reaction, is readily available for the process.

(2): Aviation Gasoline, commonly used in piston-prop planes and some helicopters.

(3): these two drop-outs are a result of dice rolls (10 or below on 1d100).

(4): Homage to the game SWAT 3, where one of the levels features a hidden door that leads to a death trap with a spider in it. The author would like to point out that he is not making this up.

---

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.
—Real Life Mythology: The first of many Valkyrie have joined the blossoming Protectorate. That said, do not confuse the Valkyrie with the term Valkyria — separate work, separate purpose.

—Personal Works: The Star Empires are mentioned briefly here. Additionally, the Magi Empire is named specifically.
—Personal Works: The nations of the Jokers Wild are mentioned in Chapter 6. There is a very good reason for that.
—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.
—Personal Works: The last section of Chapter 6 makes it clear that the Jokers Wild, Sigma, and Multimage Chronicles are interconnected at multiple levels. This WILL come back to haunt everyone involved, in multiple ways.

—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?

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Contracts Executed in this chapter:

0001: Offer from an Adult, Female (30) Commoner from Information Age (1980 to 2000) for Hostile Extract against Neighbor
Sorties: 4

Contract Special Requirements:
Classified: MercNet Only
Unit Type: Infantry
Ammo Expenditures: Full Ammo Expenditures
Minimum Requested Units: 1

Pay is 640 in Credit