Author's Foreword:
Hello everyone. Thank you all for your patience. I have decided to condense Chapter 9 into a single document and post it in this form. Expect future updates to come as previously done: Parts until a chapter has reached a certain point, then its finale will be combined with the other segments into a complete chapter. I hope this isn't too confusing, but I do want to post new content while also maintaining a clean chapter layout. Thank you for your understanding.
Backstage can be a Messy Place
Bridge, ISV Lady Jessica
Artru High Orbit
Artru System, Aurigan Directorate Space
6 April 864 AS/2009/3024
"Ma'am, we're picking up sporadic transmissions from the planet." The comms officer called.
"What kind?" Fleet Captain Marie Anahera asked.
"Automated, from the readout. ECM and ECCM protocols are already engaged."
"Good. If intelligence from an apocryphal video game is accurate, this Castle Nautilus has a viral defense mechanism. Try to find a way in. Use the transmission points to triangulate us a location for the base. If we can reactivate it, that would save us a whole hell of a lot of time."
"Aye, ma'am."
"Any indication that the locals know we're here?" She asked.
"Negative." Replied the tactical officer, "Comms chatter is normal between the habitation stations and this world doesn't have an HPG. We're green, ma'am."
"Tactical, deploy orbital platforms. I want coverage over the world. Make sure to maintain ECM and ECCM protocols. Spin up the Fedaykins and begin recon and security patrols. This world needs to be locked down tight. Major Metharom, prep the Marines. I want a company on call just in case we find something."
"Aye, ma'am." her XO nodded in response, "I'll have a combined mechanized company ready for deployment."
"Let's get to it, people."
Officer's Mess/Meeting Room, LSV Artemis
Oldsmith IV High Orbit
Oldsmith System, Unclaimed Space
11 April 864 AS/3024
Two important events were on the docket for the following week: Merlow wanted to discuss his proposal and Star Captain Rosse wanted to meet on the planet below. Rosse was already in system and in transit. She and her entourage were expected to arrive in orbit in a few days. Merlow and three other members of the Basharate wanted to hold a meeting with him today. His proposal, after he ironed out a few details, was a big ask. Cerun wanted to build and run an ISA-sponsored mercenary company under the direct control of the upper echelon of the Basharate. This independent force would fight for the various powers of the Inner Sphere and gather intelligence on those they work for, similar to the Wolf's Dragoons after he read up on the entries from the archive. They could also carry out ISA strategic policy on a small scale by taking contracts that would further their goals. It was a hero's journey-like tale, and one that would raise their collective suspicion.
He knew what they would ask: Why? Why return after all this time? It seemed to them that he was content to support from the sidelines, to observe and report. Why would the former Fleet Admiral want to return to a position they could consider less than his former station? For Cerun it was simple: it was where he could do the most good for those he felt a responsibility toward. Throughout his time among the void, he and his crew carried out tasks that would benefit the survival of the Exodus Fleet. It was their discovery of the world of Malakitona that led to fabricator technology. It was from the Artemis itself that modern stealth technology was derived. It was their reports, their periodic check-ins that ensured that the Exodus Fleet made it from universe to universe intact. The war with the Brotherhood concluded the way it did because the Artemis found the points in their command-and-control structure to prod and manipulate. Now, with the Exodus behind them and permanent resettlement more viable now than ever before, Cerun felt it was time to take a more direct role in the future of the ISA. He hoped he could communicate that to Merlow.
He sat in one of the mess chairs and straightened his bars. It had been an age since he'd worn his dress blues, but it felt necessary given what was to come.
His executive officer, Fleet Captain William Valder, entered the mess, "Sir, incoming transmission from Silverfish Station."
"Merlow still keeps his appointments well." Cerun noted, "Put 'em through."
Four holographic images appeared before him: Supreme Bashar Merlow, Bashar Superior Scarman, Bashar Superior Testarossa, and Bashar Superior Serov. Cerun smiled.
"Hell of a reunion you arranged." Cerun grinned ear to ear, "Man, is it good to see you all."
"Fuckin' hell old man," Serov's image sat across from him and examined Cerun closely, "you haven't aged a minute."
"'Old man?' I've only got twenty years on you, 'Acid.' We're both old as rock now." Cerun rebutted.
"Fuck off." Serov was clearly having fun.
"All things being equal, it is good to see you." Testarossa nodded.
"Likewise." Scarman agreed.
"How the hell did you let the other five nations agree to let Liberty lead the military?" Cerun asked Merlow.
"We were the only ones who could jump universes." Merlow stated with a shrug, "To be fair, what choice did they have? Everything they knew collapsed around them and we had a way out."
"Weren't you the one who coined the term 'diplomacy under duress?'" Cerun asked coyly.
"I've gotten better at it over the years." Merlow grinned.
Serov looked at Valder, "Gods, wait, Valder? Holy shit, I saw you go down in Sigma-13. You've been alive all this time?"
Valder nodded, "I managed to get to a pod, but the emergency beacon malfunctioned, and I had to repair it over the course of a couple days. Lucky for me and the two crew members who helped me scuttle my cruiser the Artemis came by to scour the wreckage after the battle."
"As much as this reunion is far overdue, I think we need to get to the reason we're meeting." Merlow interjected, "Cerun, if you would be so kind."
"Of course." Cerun tapped at the tablet in front of him and brought up his proposal, "Alright, I understand you all have reservations about all this. I'd like to dispel any doubt of my reasons or where my loyalties lie." He brought up a mission record and transmitted it to the Bashars, "This is the complete, unredacted mission parameters given to me by President Jacobi before, well, everything hit the fan. We all saw this coming, and given our capabilities I was to ensure our survival by any means. That's what happened over half a century ago. The data and reports sent over the years were for the express purpose of making sure we survived. Malakitona? Silverfish Station? Survival. Now, that mission has evolved. We're resettled and now it's time myself and the crew of the Artemis to more directly participate the evolution of the nation."
Cerun took a few moments to allow his statement to sink into his old comrades.
After a minute, Merlow glanced at Valder, then back at Cerun, "Everything you've done for us over the years has been invaluable. The impact of your guidance cannot be overstated. However, we're still over half a century removed from each other, and that's why we're having this meeting in the first place. So, Cerun, what's the full proposal?"
Cerun transmitted another document to the Bashars, "Contained within are the full details of what I have in mind. I want to form a mercenary company, nominally independent from the ISA but directly commanded by you four. I've reviewed the file on the Wolf's Dragoons and the past intelligence provided when Serov and his organization joined up with the Liberty Marines. The information provided was invaluable. The insights were incalculable: outlaw organization reach; strategic, operational, and tactical capabilities; cultural insights; the list went on. If we had managed to keep Serov semi-independent, perhaps we could have shaped the Sirius Sector even more than we already had. That was then. Now, we're in a completely different universe with more players than should be reasonable, but they never had to abandon Earth. If we were to recreate a semi-independent force, one that could be used not only for intelligence and strategic moves but also for experimental equipment testing. Given that you all recently made contact with a twenty-first century Earth, I'm sure there are novel approaches and technologies that you'd like put through their paces."
Scarman held up a hand, "We never cleared that information to make its way to you."
Cerun shook his head with an amused expression, "Marcus, I've been the skipper of Liberty's first stealth vessel for over half a century, not to mention the former Fleet Admiral of the Liberty Navy. Intelligence gathering is my forte."
Scarman sighed, "Fair. Please, continue."
"I don't know any specifics, but if twenty-first century Earth is anything like what the archives showed then Gods help the universe when you give them access to our level of technology. That is the bulk of the proposal. I understand the concerns, and I'm sure you'll have some conditions that you want to tack on."
Scarman nodded, "Correct. First off, you and your crew need to come back in for a proper debrief. We need the data from the ship and I'm sure some refits wouldn't be a bad idea here. We're going to do the usual: questioning, memory data download, review, VI analysis, the works. For a crew out and about as long as yours, we would expect two weeks to a month of downtime. It would give you all a chance to reacclimate and rest after your decades of service."
"Second," Testarossa interjected, "we'd assign people to your crew. A cross-section, if you will, some you may have served with. This company would provide a good opportunity to expose our people to the rest of the Inner Sphere and test them in combat. We also assign your equipment, with your input of course. There are a variety of platforms on Earth that need good combat data that this company can provide. We already have some lined up for an occasion such as this. We would allocate a budget for operation in the Inner Sphere, but any profit you make during the course of any contracts goes to you and your crew. Fabricators will provide you any spare parts and ammunition, so you won't have to worry on that front, not to mention you can trade on worlds using items and materials fabricated. There will be an approved list of items in the database when you set off."
"Third," Serov said with some finality, "I'm gonna put you and your crew through the ringer. You said you wanted to use the old Black Lotus name. I'm perfectly fine with it, as long as you and your people go through the training regimen. We're all military now, I know, but merc work is a different beast. The old company had a very rigorous training syllabus that taught you the realities of mercenary life. I've had it updated with the input of the various mercenary commands we've employed. I also understand that over the course of your hunting of contracts, you'll probably hire people that we can't vet. That's a risk we're willing to take, but we can mitigate that. Anyone that joins up with your company will be subject to ISA combat implants. Not only does that make them more effective combatants, it also allows us to monitor them. It'll help that you're a charismatic asshole, but this is an insurance policy. We'll design a new uniform for y'all and put it in the fabricators."
"Last," Merlow side eyed Serov, "for you and all members of your crew, we'll be reinstating them to the ISA military command structure. Rank and such will be maintained, except for yours of course. You will be reinstated at the rank of Siridar Bashar. Can't go around outranking everyone here, you know?"
Cerun laughed, "Of course."
"We should hammer out the specifics of how this will all shake out…"
Bridge, DropShip Blazing Cat
En Route to Oldsmith IV
14 April 3024
"Helm, time to orbit?"
"Seven days, Star Captain."
"Aff. Keep me appraised. I will be in my quarters."
"Aff, Star Captain."
Star Captain Anya Rosse walked off the bridge and descended the lift to the crew quarters. It was nice to be shackled to gravity again, given her genetic makeup. She was bred to be a MechWarrior, not an aerospace pilot and the constant presence in zero-g meant she and her fellow warriors had to exercise longer to maintain their fitness. Such activities were a welcome distraction to the Star Captain.
The mysterious Cerun had invited her and her forces to the abandoned Oldsmith system for a meeting. Their first such meeting in the Nexus Ri system nine months prior had piqued her interest. He sought allies in an effort to gain intelligence on the forces of the Inner Sphere, a goal which aligned with her own. To what end, she did not know, but the impression she had of him and his people were one of consummate professionals, not dissimilar to her brothers and sisters in Clan Nova Cat. The simple demonstration of martial awareness, the way the infantry cleared the room, it all demonstrated a warrior's tradition that she found all over the Inner Sphere. The Combine had a fanatical devotion to their Coordinator, and she learned during her raids that their MechWarriors were skilled in light 'mech tactics. The Lyrans were skilled with their heavy and assault 'mechs, even made great use combined arms, something the Hells Horses would approve of. She had no idea what the other houses were capable of, but if this was the caliber of soldier the Inner Sphere could wield, the conclusion was foregone. The Clans, her people, though supremely technologically advanced, would have a hard time holding worlds in the Sphere. It was a numbers game, pure and simple. Logistics would determine the victor, and though the Clans could very handily conduct themselves against the rank and file of the Inner Sphere, losses were inevitable. The Spheroids would not give up their worlds so easily, and for every loss: elemental; pilot; MechWarrior; the Inner Sphere would have ten, a hundred, a thousand ready to take their place. The thought shot through her spine as she shuddered and recoiled from it.
She replayed Cerun's offer in her head as she sat at her desk. He proposed they combine their efforts after he heard of her visions of the eagle and the black knight. It was not something divulged lightly, but he had already directly communicated with her in a vision. Her inner circle cleared the idea before their first meeting and ever since then the visions subsided. There was some foresight on their last raids, but nothing to the extent of Antallos or the Red Duke had emerged since. The consensus was that whatever path they were on they should continue.
Rosse turned her attention to her computer and powered it on, the low hum of its fan signaled its status. She sat before the machine and reviewed her logs from the past few weeks. There were clear doubts about this proposed alliance with Cerun. Though her view on the Inner Sphere was limited, something about he and his people stuck out. It was not appearance, equipment, training, anything of the like. There was… a subtle difference between his people and those she had encountered and interrogated during her time in the Sphere. He and his people were different, and she could not quite place how. Her inner circle saw it too. It was the sum of the parts, what it added up to. They were a mirror, a reflection of themselves. Rosse saw Clan methodology in a different mold. There were markers of enhancement, but absent were the indicators of Clan society. There was a hierarchy, but not clear castes. Cerun did not treat infantry with the inferiority of the rest of the Inner Sphere, nor were they enhanced like the elementals. There seemed to be a modularity, a kind of interchangeability for Cerun's personnel.
She scrolled down to the recording of Cerun's latest transmission. The recording was transcribed, and she prepared to follow along as she hit play.
"Alright, so here's what I'm thinking:" the recording began, "We both need intel on the Inner Sphere. You've been here longer than we have, but as you've expressed in our previous encounter you're having issues finding reliable people and a consistent source of resources. You're reliant on raids for those resources and people of unknown ilk for personnel. We can provide the personnel and resources, well, mercenary work is constant no matter the place. Instead of raiding, we pool our resources and create a new mercenary company. This solves the issue of intelligence gathering and resource availability in one fell swoop. Now, I know it's not gonna be easy. There'll be questions, but those questions will be silenced by results. Our existing stores of equipment will be bolstered by battlefield salvage, material purchased at our ports of call, and other sources. I may have a line on a potential constant source of hardware. That particular detail should be ironed out by the time of our next meeting. There are a few strings attached, but considering where we stand… I think those strings will be worth it. Anyways, think on it. I think we'd have a productive future together."
Mercenaries. She had encountered her fair share of the innumerable companies that spanned the Sphere. They were always a wild card, a force that ranged from depressingly incompetent desperadoes to immaculate battlefield artisans. Her tank-bred genes and decades of Clan service critiqued the range of aptitude the mercenary class had to offer. Many a time, she witnessed subpar combat engagements by those who circled the edge of oblivion. Those of that level were quickly dispatched by the pirates she formerly employed. The highly skilled, the capable, her people encountered rarely but when they did her pirate auxiliaries never stood a chance. She thought back to an encounter on the world of Harvest last year. Intelligence gathered indicated a light garrison, so she only deployed the pirates. That was a mistake. The disorganized rabble fell in the face of the recently employed Helmut's Hermits. Their unit did not show up under official deployment manifests, probably due to the speed of bureaucracy, but it resulted in the almost complete capitulation of her raider force. Though the Hermits were not tank-bred warriors, she respected their ability and withdrew as the raid had cost her nothing materially. If she were to join the Sphere's many companies, she would have a much better idea of how the Houses employed such units in combat.
There was much to ponder and discuss with the inner circle, and she knew that the next few days would shape the direction her journey would take for years to come.
Temporary FOB Oldsmith-Alpha, Outside Old Planetary Capitol
Oldsmith IV
23 April 864 AS/3024
Cerun sat in the temporary command post as he sipped his morning coffee. Sensors and recon patrols indicated that Star Captain Rosse's vessels were in system and her DropShip had already made planetfall. Satellite assets indicated a force of five 'mechs approached from the west thirty kilometers away: an eighty-ton Spartan; a seventy-ton Shootist; a sixty-five ton Exterminator; a fifty-ton Crab; and a thirty-ton Hussar. The database on board the Artemis had been updated with the data from ISA Archives, most approved, some not. Cerun watched as they approached and noted the intelligent distribution of the five fighting 'mechs. The lighter 'mechs, the Crab and Hussar, were deployed in front of the heavier 'mechs at a kilometer ahead to scout for potential threats. There were a number of aerospace craft deployed from the DropShip which spotted the FOB the day before. Cerun and his senior staff made the decision not to conceal their presence on world as to not draw errant fire from overeager personnel. Fortunately, the location had been clearly communicated with confirmation to Rosse's party to avoid an unfortunate incident.
The 'mechs were less than an hour away, and Cerun made sure an appropriate welcoming committee awaited them. The Artemis had space for two companies of mechanized infantry to carry out ground-based operations and Cerun made sure to deploy them judiciously to secure the FOB and the approach of Rosse's force. The combat vehicle at their disposal was Liberty's long-standing IFV-10 Ursa Major modified extensively over the last half century. The ISA had moved on from the IFV-10 years ago, but his mission never gave him the opportunity to update and adopt the equipment of his successors and the state they formed. Besides, the Ursa Major platform was perfect for the low-intensity combat his old mission entailed. That was going to change very soon, but until then he had to make do with what he had.
"Sir, we've just received the expected message from Rosse." The comms officer reported, "They have confirmed their approach vector and acknowledge the rendezvous coordinates."
"Good." Cerun nodded, "No exchange of fire, I hope."
"Negative, sir. We're keeping our distance, and no one has gotten trigger happy."
"That's excellent news. Sensors, at their current rate how long until they arrive?"
"At their current clip, within the hour, just." The sensors officer informed.
"Fantastic. Spin up the fabs and let's get a meal prepared. Best to conduct negotiations over food."
On Approach to Rendezvous Coordinates
Rosse felt as if it had been an age since she had been in the cockpit of her adopted 'mech. Though she felt much more at home in the comfort of a Shadow Cat, there was something to be said about her current Spartan. The torso-mounted ERPPC had a tendency to pull to the left when fired alone, something she compensated for subconsciously. The 'mech barely handled the heat from an alpha strike, but that was hardly necessary if she engaged as she was trained. It rewarded judicious application of firepower, something that translated easily from her time in the Shadow Cat. Even by the standards of the Clans, the Spartan was a force to be reckoned with even though it lacked the mobility of the light and medium omni-mechs she was accustomed to.
Unlike their first meeting, she was not the first on station. Cerun had beaten them to it, and all reconnaissance indicated that he established himself in a reasonably fortified position on the outskirts of the city. Ancient remnants of ages past were sparse as their landing site was one hundred kilometers away from the outskirts. Her aerospace wing spotted the encampment earlier and transmitted their scan of the location. All passes pointed at an intricate complex for a temporary encampment. A defined landing zone, clear fields of fire, hardened defense points, everything pointed that they were ready in the event of combat. She felt more reassured that Cerun was worthy of this proposed alliance.
"Rodrigo, Rosse. Status report, over." She asked over comms.
"Star Captain, all is clear for now," Rodrigo replied, "no contacts within weapons range, no signs of hostiles, aff?"
"Quiaff. Keep your head on the swivel. Rosse out."
She was impressed. Aside from the location of the base camp, there was no sign of Cerun's reconnaissance force. She was certain that they were watched since they landed, but they left no signs as a good reconnaissance unit would. No obvious signs of aerial assets, no tracks from vehicles or 'mechs ahead of them. She had her own aerospace fighters up to check ahead. Eva herself reported no contacts on the scope but noted the absence of an armed presence indicated that same presence. It was a paradox she learned well in the Inner Sphere. The Clans fought with rules handed down from Nicholas Kerensky, a code which dictated the rules of battle and their participants. Those she fought with and against in the sphere held no such notions. The purpose of combat here was to defeat the enemy by any means necessary and dismantle their ability to fight back once they were defeated. There were no bids, no effort to seek honor as she was raised. To be victorious was the goal, and nothing was to stand in the way. Such was what she saw here. If her unit showed obvious hostile intent, then she was sure that Cerun would not hesitate to use every available means to him to ensure that goal was achieved.
The travel passed quietly, with the occasional status update from the lead points in the star and Eva's aerial reconnaissance. There was no tension, no immediacy of violence she could sense. There was some comfort in that. It allowed her to ponder Cerun's proposal as the star moved to its destination.
Temporary FOB Oldsmith-Alpha
Cerun watched the holo-table as the 'mechs reached the rendezvous point. Alpha Company, his most elite mechanized troopers, were there to meet them. Bravo had been shadowing Rosse's party since their landing and were on hand just in case things got hot. As had been continually proven throughout this encounter, both sides held their fire. Cerun had read Rosse and her contemporaries correctly, they were professionals unlike some of those she had employed in the past. What intelligence the ISA had on Rosse had been forwarded to Cerun at his request. He had read about the raids attributed to Rosse's group according to those in ISA custody and was impressed in her application of forces. She minimized losses to her core group, recruited the most promising of those who participated in the raids, and utilized the resources obtained to maintain her forces. He was curious about the abductions of enemy combatants, but that was neither here nor there.
He straightened his new Black Lotus uniform, made sure his bars were straight, and headed to the entrance.
Rosse dismounted her 'mech as soon as she was given the all clear by the rest of her Star. Adar Djerassi joined her side as the other 'mechwarriors conversed with the mechanized infantry soldiers. She noted the different uniforms they wore compared to her first encounter with Cerun and his people. Black and purple highlights replaced the blue and gold of the previous encounter, and a lotus blossom insignia replaced the half star and four stripes. A pair of soldiers escorted them into the military outpost, where Cerun awaited them.
"Welcome to FOB Oldsmith-Alpha, Star Captain Rosse and Star Commander Djerassi." Cerun greeted, his hand extended.
Rosse firmly grasped and shook his hand, "Good to be here, Cerun."
Djerassi simply nodded and motioned to an empty table in the room. Cerun smiled and shook his head.
"No, a discussion such as this needs to be done on a full stomach. Please, follow me." Cerun led the pair of Rosse and Djerassi into the mess hall where Fleet Captain William Valder awaited them, "Fleet Captain Valder, may I introduce Star Captain Anya Rosse and Star Commander Adar Djerassi."
Valder bowed slightly, "Charmed. We have a meal ready for us all if you're hungry."
"We would appreciate it." Rosse turned her head toward the door, "What of my warriors?"
"They'll be taken care of, don't you worry Star Captain." Cerun stated with an air of reassurance, "You are guests, and your people are to be treated as such. Any food allergies we should be aware of?"
The question caught Rosse off guard, "No, that I know of."
Cerun clapped his hands together, "Fantastic." Two soldiers emerged from the kitchen and laid the feast for those gathered, "Shall we?" he motioned to the seats.
Rosse and Djerassi sat down and awaited their host to take the first bite. Cerun obliged, and a silence settled over them.
"Your proposal, Cerun?" Rosse asked as the last course was carted away, replaced with coffee, tea, and a light dessert.
"Here." He handed across two tablets with the full details of the formation of a new mercenary company.
Rosse read it over as Djerassi did the same. Cerun's proposal was ambitious. They would pool together their resources, funded by an unnamed benefactor which would provide more materiel as needed. They would be provided with technology and resources, something she was desperately lacking since her arrival, along with an infusion of personnel. There were salaries, payment breakdowns, command structure layout, even a line for marketing, something unheard of in Clan militaries. An item stuck out to her, a small but significant detail that grabbed her attention.
"What does this mean, 'technological integration?'" she asked as she glanced up at Cerun.
"It is optional but highly encouraged." Cerun stated simply.
"That did not answer the question." Djerassi countered.
"Cybernetics, esteemed guests." Valder began, "It is one of the many tools at our disposal to retain our edge. You'll notice that it is voluntary, but it is offered to enhance your capabilities in combat."
"What of biological engineering?" Rosse asked, "Cannot the same be achieved through genetics and grown organics?"
"To a point, certainly." Cerun shrugged, "There is a limit to biological prowess, however. To interface more directly with your tools is not something our biology alone can achieve."
Rosse scoffed, "A crutch."
"Another tool." Cerun countered, "You use your 'mechs as tools of combat. Cybernetics allows you to use them better, interface with them more tightly, be more situationally aware. In civilian life, you can review material faster, process more inputs and categorize them more efficiently. We are tightly engrained with our technology, and we simply offer you the same."
"What of electronic attack?" Djerassi asked, "Certainly, countermeasures exist."
"Of course, but I wouldn't be standing here now if we didn't have methods to counteract the countermeasures."
Rosse and Djerassi glanced at one another, communicating without words. They both harbored suspicions at such deep technological integration. It was their biology that made them superior, honed over the generations of genetic combination and refined bloodlines. Those that had undergone cybernetic enhancement were left as shells of their former selves within a few short years. What had Cerun's people achieved if biology alone was not enough and did they overcome the detrimental effects?
"We will consider it." Rosse conceded, "What of the equipment we will receive? Of what quality can we expect?"
"Factory fresh, cutting edge." Valder allowed himself a smirk, "I don't think our benefactors would settle for anything less."
"What do they expect of us?" Rosse cocked an eyebrow, "Certainly such generosity is not free."
"Nothing ever is." Cerun responded, "Our benefactors are after the same thing as us: Information. Information is a powerful currency, one that outstrips almost all others. As long as we provide that, our resource pipeline won't cease."
"Quite the level of support for information." Rosse stayed skeptical.
"You're a soldier. You understand that information is life or death. As I said, it's a powerful currency."
"There are some sharks that would agree." Djerassi conceded. He glanced at the door they entered. "Cerun, forgive the request but I must ask to speak with the Star Captain in private."
"Of course." Cerun watched as the Clanners left the small dining hall.
"Clans. An interesting structure for a society." Valder commented after the pair were safely out of the building, "One wonders what Aleksandr Kerensky would think if he saw what his people became."
"That's a good question, Will." Cerun stared absently across the table to the pair of empty seats, "We've seen what happened in one universe when someone tried to emulate the Mongols. We know what's written about this one. The question is whether or not we can change its course."
"Hmm…" Valder picked up his fork, "You know, I've never had a proper beehive cake."
"What is it, Adar?" Rosse asked her second in command when they got out of earshot of the forward operating base.
"They know much more than they let on." Djerassi stated in a hushed tone.
"That much is obvious." Rosse whispered back, "Do you see duplicity or animosity from them?"
"Not explicit deception, Star Captain. I believe they are on a leash. A long leash, but one nonetheless."
"With the level of support from their benefactors, that makes sense."
"Certainly. They are keeping a fair bit of information hidden from us, but that is to be expected."
Rosse leaned against a wall, "Do we trust them, Adar?"
"To a point. What Cerun and his people provide is valuable, and we can gain the information we seek and not have to resort to dishonorable means."
"Their cybernetics. Can we trust that?"
"I cannot say. We know what happens to warriors with enhanced imaging implants. The damage can become irreversible."
"Yet we do not see that in Cerun or his people." Rosse observed.
"If their cybernetic technology is so advanced, then it is something to be pursued. We did not bring any of the scientist caste with us, nor have we encountered any during our travels. Still, it is something worth evaluating."
"What do you propose?"
"With this technology, we can ask if any of our warriors would volunteer for the procedure. We monitor them carefully. With the EI implants, the detrimental effects set in within a year."
Rosse sighed deeply, "Do our people deserve such a fate?"
"That is why we ask for volunteers. Cerun and his people do not possess the same markings of our brethren who have been implanted, nor are they afflicted by the side-effects of long-term usage."
"I have one last question for you, Adar: Should we proceed with this partnership?"
Djerassi paused as he thought about it, "Star Captain, given your lack of visions regarding a negative result from such a union, and the clear benefit that this would provide us, I say we proceed."
"Hmm…" Rosse thought deeply and stared at the tablet in her hand as the rest of the base worked on.
Cerun and Valder stood back up as the visiting representatives rejoined them in the mess hall.
Rosse and Djerassi took their seats at the table and handed back the tablets.
"Productive discussion, I hope?" Cerun asked.
"Certainly." Rosse handed back her tablet, "We have come to our decision, Cerun."
He took the tablet and examined it. At the bottom of the contract was her handprint, the confirmation of acceptance of the proposal. Cerun smiled wide, "Well, I'm glad to have you on board." He motioned to Valder who procured a bottle of champagne and four glasses. Valder poured for everyone at the table, "To the formation of the Black Lotus Battalion!"
Crew Quarters, ISV Lady Jessica
Artru High Orbit
Artru System, Aurigan Directorate Space
25 April 864 AS/2009/3024
Triple-S officer Lieutenant Dragoslav Heintze reviewed the sensor logs of the last passes of the Lady Jessica's recon runs and cross-referenced them with the sensor readings from every previous pass. The past few weeks were not kind to their efforts to find the fabled Castle Nautilus. There had been no spikes in ECM behavior, no signs of the castle in the terrain, nothing. The low-level automated transmission remained, but its strength was uniform no matter where they scanned. He closed his eyes and thought back to a patch of land that looked somewhat artificial. He thought he saw a construct of some kind, but that pass turned up nothing relevant. However, something was off with it. A snowstorm interfered with the scans which scrambled any attempts at an accurate picture of the environment. It had taken a week for it to subside, but they finally had their opportunity for another pass. Fleet Captain Anahera put faith in his abilities and trusted his intuition.
Artru had not been kind to their efforts. With no solid place to start searching for Castle Nautilus they were forced to scan every square meter of the planet for the location. It was careful, slow work hindered at every turn by the weather and the low-level ECM field. They had already finished multiple passes over the world with nothing to show for it, but Heintze was sure that Castle Nautilus was there. He rubbed his eyes, tired of looking at maps and readings day after day. His desk pinged and brought him back to the present.
"Report." He demanded of the VI interface.
"Latest pass data is ready for review, Lieutenant." The VI replied.
"Thank you." He looked at the reading from the most recent recon pass, "Oh shit…" he muttered to himself, "We finally found it."
Bridge, ISV Lady Jessica
"You're sure?" Fleet Captain Anahera asked the Triple-S officer.
"Positive." Heintze replied, "Readings indicate the presence of metallic geometric objects. This coincides with the flat ground and what appeared to be a cut out in a mountain."
"Okay." She shrugged, "This is the best lead we've had all month." She turned to Major Metharom, "Major, spin up a company and let's see what's down there."
"Aye, ma'am."
Hangar Bay, ISV Lady Jessica
Major Kulap Metharom checked her gear one last time as the rest of her company did the same. Clear visibility was projected on the day, but the temperatures were said to be negative twenty degrees centigrade. The armored space suit she and the rest of her company wore were completely sealed against the elements, but nature always had a way of destroying gear. She instinctively reviewed the state of her service weapon, the M-7 Kindjal. During the transit to and subsequent reconnaissance of Artru, Metharom spent her time familiarizing herself with the standard arms of the ISA. She was decidedly rushed into her position, a political olive branch from the Thai government to the Coalition of Sovereign Nations as part of Earth's international effort to create a unified planetary military. Her service in the Royal Thai Army was distinguished, as one of the few female officers in the country's history to hold a command in the country's elite 1st Special Forces Division. With her standing, she was fast-tracked to received ISA combat implants and transferred to the Special Operations Command of the ISA Marine Army. Such a rapid transition did not allow her the time to become more intimately familiar with the equipment used by her new command. The manual of arms for the Kindjal differed in a very crucial way from that of both the SAR 21 and the M16s she used in Thailand: The lack of conventional bullets. There was no need to worry about how many rounds were left in the magazine, the status of her weapon, all of that was handled through the neural interface. If that failed, she could simply check the on-board display for the important stats. The same went for her armor, her communications, everything was meshed seamlessly into a neural heads-up display that gave all the relevant information. It was a massive upgrade from the Royal Thai Army.
Captain Alex Valencia, transplant from the Filipino 1st Scout Ranger Regiment, commanding officer of Alpha Company and her immediate executive officer approached her, fully kitted.
"Major," he saluted, which she promptly returned, "we're ready to deploy. The IFVs and tanks are loaded, and the Baliset crews report everything is loaded for a hot drop."
"Thank you, Captain." She motioned for him to follow her down the hangar to inspect the troops, "We haven't had a chance to really speak outside of briefings and AARs, Valencia. I want an honest take here: what do you make of all this?"
"In what sense, Major?" he asked, a half step behind her.
"We're in space, about to drop on a world mentioned in a video game in a universe written by science fiction authors based on a board game. Our new benefactors come from yet another universe with gear named after yet another sci-fi property."
"Wait, what?" Valencia stopped beside one of the Balisets, "Which one?"
"Dune." She turned to face him, "All the technology, their equipment, their ship classes, so much of it is named after Frank Herbert's Dune."
Valencia shrugged, "Never been a huge sci-fi fan, ma'am. All I know is that their gear is good, they back up their words with actions, and through them we have the best chance of surviving in this new reality we've all found ourselves in."
"True." She glanced up at the Baliset, "Still, this is a hell of a new reality."
"I'm with you there, ma'am."
Bridge, ISV Lady Jessica
The bridge crew watched as the holographic images of Alpha Company's transports departed from the Lady Jessica toward Artru's surface. Tactical kept a vigilant eye on the ECM and ECCM suites for any variation in activity while Comms kept an ear on any errant transmissions. If the game was right, if they attempted to breech the facility with an electronic attack a defense system would activate, spilling automated drones onto the field and arming a series of weapon emplacements. An orbital weapons platform was stationed over the site just in case, but targeting through a decidedly uncooperative atmosphere may put Metharom's command in serious jeopardy. That platform was considered a last resort if everything was going to hell.
Anahera turned to Heintze with a hard look, "Drago, half of me hope's you're right about this and the other half hope's your dead wrong."
The young Triple-S officer returned a questioning glance, "Captain?"
"How many times have you been in the field, Heintze?" she asked him.
"You've seen my record, ma'am. You know this is my first field deployment."
"I just wanted to confirm it. If you're right, their first option will be to attempt an electronic bypass. If that goes wrong, then they very well may be swarmed by a whole hell of a lot of firepower in a very short period of time."
"That may be, ma'am, but if I am right then we have a base of operations at the edge of known space with enough equipment to outfit a minor power, not to mention the research value of working examples of Star League-era technology."
"As long as we can keep this under wraps. We're lucky the civil war in the region hasn't reached here." Anahera took a look at the holo-table again, "They're entering the atmosphere."
"We should be seeing their sensor readouts soon." The tactical officer reported, "A few minutes at most."
"Ma'am," comms chirped in, "transmission from the Major."
"Put her through." Anahera nodded.
Major Metharom's combat equipped image appeared seated in her bridge chair, "Ma'am."
"You're a few minutes out from sensor sync. What's wrong?"
Metharom's image flickered a moment before it stabilized, "ECM is getting stronger as we get closer to the landing zone. We wanted to open a line and maintain it as long as possible in case we're cut off."
The Fleet Captain glanced at the comms officer, "Any potential interruption of transmission?"
"Some, ma'am," the comms officer replied, "but ECCM is holding. We should be able to remain in contact with the away team."
"You heard them, Major. If all else fails, burst transmissions should work. Keep us posted."
Metharom took a breath, "Yes, ma'am. Metharom out."
Castle Nautilus Outskirts, Artru
26 April 864 AS/2009/3024
The location was right where the analyst predicted. Metharom ordered additional passes over the base to determine exact size, approximate layout, and potential opfor. Scans indicated a transport tunnel that ended a couple hundred meters ahead of the main entrance. There were clear points for what looked like an automated turret system that seemed almost impossible to avoid if activated. They couldn't get a clear reading on the level of armament, but the number of sites certainly made it an intimidating target.
She tasked Bravo Platoon with an attempt to breech the transport tunnel and find a way into the Castle proper. Alpha, Charlie, and Delta set up a perimeter around base entrance out of the estimated effective range of typical Inner Sphere weapons with a healthy buffer for predicted Star League-era technology. The ECM interference had increased, but no active attempts to disrupt their efforts were seen. Communications had to boost their transmission strength to cut through, but Metharom's fear of a comms blackout had not come to fruition, not yet. The jamming signal from the base was unfocused, but still emitted enough radiation to make efforts more difficult. The Company's VI network worked harder to compensate for the interference, and communication between units were punctuated with underlying static.
She zoomed in on the base entrance from the safety of her command Vernius IFV. The large metal door loomed in the distance, covered in icicles and snow. The clear insignia of the Star League Defense Force emblazoned on it, she thought back to what this facility must have been like during the height of the Star League. She familiarized herself with the history of the Star League, how Periphery worlds like these were targeted specifically to help clamp down on potential unrest. The tales of the Reunification Wars and the toll it took on the Periphery were set in actual stone here. Castle Nautilus stood as an example of the reach of Earth and it's tenuous hold over the farthest reaches of human space, entombed in posterity until their arrival.
"Major," a voice interrupted her mental wandering, "incoming transmission from Bravo Platoon."
Metharom shook her head and refocused, "Put them through."
An image of Lieutenant Judy Fuentes' head, leader of Bravo Platoon, appeared in her HUD, "Bravo-One to Alpha-One, over."
"Alpha-One. Go ahead, Lieutenant, over."
"We've breeched the tunnel and encountered no resistance. It's narrow and only allows one vehicle to enter or exit at a time with a few turn-offs, over."
"Confirmed. Push forward and be alert for automated defenses. The Star League isn't known for a lack of preparedness, over."
"Roger." Bravo-One, over and out."
In the heart of the ancient facility, an automated signal was tripped. In rapid fashion, Castle Nautilus began to whir to life. Drone vehicles, directed by the base's automated defense system, mobilized from the disused motor pool and moved to muster outside the transport tunnel. In minutes, the venerable forces of the Castle sprang into action. Turrets emerged from their hidden berths to defend the facility. Threat analysis systems came to life as the base's rudimentary AI system sought to engage the perceived threat. Zephyr hover tank drones rushed to meet the now identified four hostiles on their way through the tunnels…
Minutes passed in relative quiet. The rumble of the company's vehicles and occasional chirps from the VI interface were the only sounds. The tunnel widened, enough to allow the two Ix tanks to take the lead and maneuver with adequate agility as they traveled deeper down the tunnels.
The relative peace was shattered as unknown contacts appeared ahead of them. Instinctually, the Ix gunners pressed their triggers and destroyed the first contact but almost instantly it was replaced by two more. The company deftly sidestepped the wreckage of the first contact and engaged the two that appeared behind. Two more railgun slugs smashed into the unidentified vehicles and rendered them useless.
"Bravo-One to Alpha-One!" Lieutenant Fuentes called over comms, "We've engaged unknown contacts, over!"
"Roger Bravo-One!" Major Metharom replied, "We've got hostiles on our end! Keep pushing and open that goddamn door!"
"Bravo-One copies! Over and out." She switched to company comms, "Bravo-One to company: Stop for nothing! Check your targets and push to the entrance!"
More Zephyr hover tank drones awoke from their centuries of slumber to fulfill their long-awaited directive. One after another, the soulless machines pressed forward to engage the intruders. Pairs of Zephyrs fired off volleys of PPCs, lasers, missiles, everything they had to stop the wayward unknowns. One after another, they fell. Even their wreckage could not slow the advance of the unknown contacts. The Base's defense system changed their defense plan. Aggressive individual unit action was not producing desirable outcomes, so it switched to swarm protocol. Unfortunately, it determined that the transport tunnel could not allow for rapid unit deployment. There were now unknown contacts outside the base that engaged the turret emplacements and over the course of a few minutes had destroyed the first ring in moments. With the transport tunnel under attack, the defense system made the decision to open the main doors and deploy drones directly to the front. Those assigned to the tunnel would continue to delay the advance of the unknown force of four. If necessary, the drones would simply pile on top of themselves to physically block the rapid advance. The command was issued and Zephyrs began to relocate and move from the motor pool to the main entrance.
Major Metharom felt the situation intensify. Readings from Bravo Company showed an increase in opfor numbers, which slowed their advance. Their speed was cut in half as wreckage physically began to pile up in front of them. Alpha, Charlie and Delta engaged the turrets as they popped up. She was thankful that the weaponry on the castle's automated defenses had no effect on them at the range they were at. They already destroyed four turrets as soon as they appeared with no effective return fire. Yet, years of experience heightened her battle sense. There was an underpinning of threat, a wind of imminency that lay after the calm after the last engagement. Her own drones circled lazily above and fed real time information to them.
Minutes passed as no new targets emerged. There were obvious hardpoints that were certain to store more turrets, but none appeared. Someone, or something, had adapted to the situation and was taking a different tac with them. Her comms buzzed.
"Bravo-One to Alpha-One, over." Fuentes called.
"Bravo-One, go ahead, over." She replied.
"Bravo-One, progress halted. Enemy vehicles piled themselves up and blocked the tunnel, over."
Metharom massaged the bridge of her nose, "Roger that, Bravo-One. Attempt to blast through and report back. Read back, over."
"Read back: blast through and report back, over."
"Correct, over."
There was a brief pause on the other end, "Wilco, over."
"Roger. Alpha-One out."
As she terminated the transmission, she was about to switch frequencies when the vehicle VI pinged her HUD. She brought up the ping and watched the live feed. The main metal blast doors, unused for centuries, began to open. She switched frequencies.
"Alpha-One to Delta-One, over."
"Go ahead, Alpha-One."
"Confirm main doors opening, over."
A pause followed, "Delta-One confirms doors are opening. Wait. Enemy spotted, over."
"Delta-One, numbers, over."
"Wait." A moment passed, "Wait." Another, "Alpha-One, I estimate at least twenty, over."
"Say again, over?" That could not be right.
"Twenty. Two-zero, Alpha-One, probably more, over."
Well, shit. She thought to herself. She patched in Charlie Company's commander, "Charlie-One, Delta-One, this is Alpha-One. Engage the new contacts. We fight our way to the entrance and link up with Bravo, over."
"Wilco, over" Bravo-One and Charlie-One replied in unison.
"Roger. Alpha-One out." She switched to internal comms, "Driver, move out! Gunner, fire at will!"
Bridge, ISV Lady Jessica
"Oh hell." The tactical officer muttered to themselves, "Ma'am, away team has encountered a whole lot of contacts."
Anahera and Heintze watched as Zephyr hover tanks emerged from the entrance of Castle Nautilus and engaged Major Metharom's company. The sheer number of contacts outweighed any estimate they gave them during the briefing.
"That wasn't mentioned in the game." Heintze stated aloud, "It just spawned enemies until… oh. Oh shit."
"They're gonna have to fight their way through that mess into the base. Did the game mention any internal security?" Anahera asked.
"No, ma'am. Just that the player made their way into the castle and recovered four 'mechs to fight their way to their extract. They did have to fight through a force sent by the Taurian Concordat to leave, but we don't have to worry about that. They did have to defeat the electronic defenses before they could enter the base, but the doors are already open…"
"Do you think the EWAR suites on the vehicle VIs can defeat the base's automated security?" She asked the intel officer.
"I honestly don't know. Our only example of such an attack was against the Von Braun and that was a case study at best." Lieutenant Heintze shook his head and rubbed his chin, "Maybe we should've tried to recover the Argo before we attempted this…"
"Wait," she turned to Heintze, "what data do we have from the Von Braun?"
"Higher sent us everything, from technical data to their—oh." His eyes lit up, "I see what you're getting at, Captain."
She turned to the comms officer, "Comms, send down the Von Braun's ID codes. Tell them to change their IFF signatures to match."
"Aye, ma'am."
Castle Nautilus Outskirts
It had been a half hour of fire and maneuver. Metharom and her three companies had managed to keep the Zephyr hover tanks at arm's length with drones and Balisets providing aerial support. She deigned to deploy her infantry as their current mobility was needed to prevent being overrun. Despite their firepower advantage, the hover tanks were gaining ground. Their ever-expanding numbers meant that even though they were significantly outgunned, they were approaching their perceived enemy by the minute. Her Vernius' VI estimated that at the current rate of advance, they would be within weapons range in ten minutes. The ISA forces simply did not have enough guns on the ground for the enemy force. Orbital strikes were out of the question. Any miscalculation induced by the ECM field could mean their annihilation.
Tank after tank fell to the combined fire of the three companies and their aerial support but they just kept coming. When one fell, two more came out of the base entrance to replace it. Ten minutes turned into nine, then eight. The VI kept a running estimate of enemy advance, and it shrank as their numbers grew. She punched up the holomap. Her eyes bulged. Twenty had turned into fifty, with more pouring out after every loss.
One minute. The estimate shrank dramatically. Turrets emerged from the hard points and these were better equipped than their previously destroyed counterparts. They opened fire with missile volleys, guided by the Zephyrs to her company. That's when her VI warned her that the first Zephyrs were in range. The hover tanks began to open fire with PPCs, their brilliant particle light danced across the battlefield. Her driver pulled their Vernius hard to the left to avoid the incoming fire. Soon enough, the hover tanks closed to laser range and their green glow met the invisible shields of their vehicles. The railgun autocannon atop her Vernius never stopped firing, and the missile pods kept feeding explosive death to the enemy, but she knew it was only a matter of time before the shields failed and the sheer weight of fire would eventually overcome even the fearsome ISA battle vehicles. She knew that her Ix tanks were already taking fire directly to their armor given their position as frontline fighters. Bravo Platoon emerged from the transport tunnel in a flank that briefly disrupted the enemy formation, but that only redoubled the base's defenses. Even more hover tanks poured from the entrance like water from a river delta, seemingly with no end.
Her comms chirped at her with an encoded message from the Lady Jessica. She quickly glanced at it and immediately rebroadcast it to her company.
"Alpha-One to Alpha Company, immediate! Be ready to switch IFF on my mark! Acknowledge, over!" She called over the comms.
"Bravo-One, wilco, over!"
"Charlie-One, wilco, over!"
"Delta-One, wilco, over!"
"Alpha-One, mark, over!" she pressed a button on her console and hoped that this would work.
Castle Nautilus' automated defense system checked the targets they had engaged. What was once unknown contacts came back as verified Star League vehicles sent from the vessel Von Braun. Though the name was unknown in the database, the IFF signatures matched those of the Star League Defense Force, and any directive to disengage could only be overridden by its human operators. With none to tell it otherwise, the system accepted the IFF signature as valid and ordered the innumerable Zephyr hover tank drones to stand down and return to the motor pool. As though nothing had happened, the remaining Zephyrs fell back and began to file in and return to their dormant state. It transmitted the automated 'all clear' message to the Star League vehicles and a brief report of the unknown contacts. The doors remained open, as the Star League personnel that had arrived on world would need to enter the facility. It has been over two centuries since the last inspection.
Major Metharom watched in amazement as the staggering number of Zephyrs retreated into Castle Nautilus. Her comms received a transmission from the Castle, 'All Clear. Unknown contacts disappeared from scope. Welcome, Star League Vessel Von Braun.' She shook her head. The automated defense system actually accepted the IFF signature as valid. She ordered Alpha Company to regroup at the entrance of the castle, assigned duties, and opened a channel to the Lady Jessica.
"Alpha-One to Lady Jessica, over."
The holographic image of Fleet Captain Anahera's head appeared in her HUD, "Lady Jessica. Well done, Major. That was a fine engagement."
"Did you know about the number of opfor, Captain?"
"No. That was an unpleasant surprise to be sure, but you handled yourselves well."
"Thank you, ma'am."
"We're sending down the rest of the battalion. Maintain perimeter security until they arrive. When they do, clear out Castle Nautilus. I want that place completely safe before we reactivate it."
"Roger that, ma'am."
"Fantastic. Lady Jessica out."
Castle Nautilus
30 April 864 AS/2009/3024
The mechanized infantry of Lady Jessica's battalion spent the better part of two days to clear out the expansive Castle Nautilus. Though considered an 'Outpost Castle' by the standards of the Star League, this facility was still large enough to ensure the loyalty of the periphery worlds in its sphere of influence. The transport tunnel, now clear thanks to the engineer company, revealed a path to the pristine motor pool which held the hundreds of inactive Zephyr hover tank drones that nearly overwhelmed Alpha Company. The 'mechbay was stocked with pristine examples of some of the Star League's most battle-proven 'mechs, enough to outfit a Star League-era BattleMech regiment. The armory contained thousands of infantry weapons and equipment, enough to supply an infantry battalion. The sheer amount of military hardware untouched and concentrated here boasted the most military research material recovered that surpassed even Lapu-Lapu. There was no obvious spaceport, but the ground outside the transport tunnel was paved to allow DropShips to land safely, which suited the Baliset transports just fine. With the castle secure, now came the process of safe reactivation. There was a litany of tasks to be completed.
Technical staff swarmed the halls and worked in the various rooms to wipe away any trace of the automated defense system. They had to ensure that the IFF spoof they used could not be used against them. Destroyed base defenses had to be repaired and replaced with ISA-spec hardware. All data from the central computer core was copied to the Lady Jessica for analysis. The ECM field was readjusted for clear ISA communication and complete hindrance of any unidentified transmissions. Battlefield wreckage was cleared by worker drones and IFVs to cover up any evidence of combat. The Zephyr's control systems were examined to see if they could be utilized by a new base VI system to be installed over the coming weeks, perhaps the Zephyrs themselves even refitted with ISA-spec weapons. Despite the firepower at their disposal, they knew that cover and concealment were their greatest asset. So, efforts were made to conceal the castle further, to hide the human-made lines into the natural features of the mountain it was built into.
With the work begun, Fleet Captain Anahera walked into the command center as technical staff darted from station to station trying to get the Star League hardware to communicate clearly with their VI. The lessons learned on Lapu-Lapu paid off dividends as they reactivated systems one after another in a matter of hours rather than weeks. She strode over to the combat information center where Major Metharom and Captain Valencia worked on their reports. They rose to attention as she entered. She motioned to them to be at ease.
"Major," Anahera sat opposite her XO at the recently installed holo-table, "how goes your end of the reactivation?"
"Well, ma'am." Metharom replied, "Duty rotations are assigned, and security details are deployed throughout the facility."
"Casualties?" Anahera asked.
"Couple of nasty falls from rusted catwalks." Valencia reported, "Sprained ankles and some minor fractures. Five soldiers down for a day, but the medics got them up and about quickly. The rest of the base went smoothly. The defense system took the IFF spoof without question and maintained our Star League identity until the tech staff deactivated it."
"Good to hear."
"Question, ma'am." Metharom scratched her temple.
"Go ahead, Major."
"How are we going to get all this hardware off world?"
"We won't." Anahera responded simply.
"What?" Valencia gave her a sideways look, "Why not, ma'am?"
"Orders. We're to send a few examples of unique 'mechs, vehicles, and equipment back to Cradle for study and keep the rest here."
"May I ask why ma'am?" Metharom pressed gingerly.
"No, Major."
Crew Quarters, ISV Lady Jessica
Lieutenant Heintze reviewed the complete inventory of military hardware stored in the castle. All of it was deemed functional and ready for use, exactly what his superiors hoped for. He completed his report and sent a transmission off to Cradle as ordered. He had little concrete idea of why they would want a manifest of weaponry, but he had a fair guess.
The Aurigan Reach was in a state of strife. With the recent ascension of Santiago Espinosa to the position of Director of the Aurigan Directorate after the bloody coup two years prior, his hold on power was tenuous at best. He held the loyalty of the outer worlds of the Reach through fear and the core worlds through relative comfort at the cost of the outer worlds' prosperity. With such a volatile region after the fall of a beloved ruling family, the Systems Security Service must have seen an opportunity to gain a friendly government on the far edge of known human civilization. If an apocryphal video game was to be believed, then Lady Kamea Arano was alive and was organizing a resistance. If they were provided arms, training, and material support then a ready-made ally was primed align itself with the ISA's interests. That video game provided them with this boon and without the interference of the Taurian Concordat. With this much untouched Star League-era power, the Arano line could take the Reach back and become a power far from the potential destruction of the Fourth Succession War and subsequent Clan Invasion.
This was only a guess, however. He had no idea just how accurate he was and how much this military power could tip the scales in an upcoming civil war…
New Liberty Interstellar Port
Cradle
Sanctuary System, Independent Systems Alliance Space
2 June 864 AS/2009/3024
Siridar Bashar Kevin 'Cerun' DeMers stood in awe of Cradle at the head of a Baliset's ramp, newly arrived the day before on board the Artemis. He smiled ear to ear, the product of decades of his work and that of his crew realized on this world. There was never a doubt in his mind that Merlow would lead the displaced of their home universe out of danger, but this was no longer survival. Cradle represented a fresh start for the people of the Sirius Sector. For decades the ISA was a nation in name only, with no home to call their own. With that long trek over, Cerun allowed himself this triumph for his efforts were in service of this.
He and his crew had all landed, the LSV Artemis surrendered to Strike Group Rhineland for a complete mechanical debrief. His crew were to be debriefed over the following week after they had settled into their assigned quarters in the bustling military district. During the transit to Cradle, he reviewed the information he had surreptitiously gleaned from his access to the ISA archives. They had named the military academy after him, in honor of his service to the formation of the ISA. He checked his uniform one more time and lead his crew down the ramp into the waiting escort of ISA military officers. A familiar face greeted him.
"Fleet Admiral Cerun, in the flesh." The officer greeted, saluting with a smile on their face.
"General Hilde Engel." Cerun returned the salute and shook her hand, "Never thought I'd see the day that a Rhineland army officer would share the same uniform as me."
"It's Bashar now." Engel motioned him to follow her, "Even before the exodus, you were a bit of a legend."
Cerun laughed, "Gods, did Merlow get to you too?"
Engel reacted in kind, "No! You know we had to study our neighbors, and by God was your service record one for the ages."
"Existential threats to your nation tend to do that, you know."
"Leading the last loyal fleet in a counter coup in the heart of your country is a hell of a public achievement. We studied your maneuvers and movements for years after, before we all had to leave."
Cerun scoffed, "You're joking. We studied your strategies for the ground invasion of Pittsburgh after your victory over the Red Hessians."
"We learned a lot from one another, no?"
"You can say that again."
The pair walked forward trailed by the crew of the Artemis and their escort of military officers. They all loaded aboard a waiting skyrail tram headed for the military district. Conversation was light, jovial. Stories were swapped of battles, exploits, victories, and defeats. Cerun learned of some of the individual stories of the Brotherhood War, horrific engagements significantly outnumbered in defense of the sleeper ships before the decision was made to park them on Silverfish. The journey was not kind in the first couple decades. The Artemis only provided information and very rarely participated in battle in that war. In a short half hour, they arrived at the station, ushered through the gates quickly and brought to their temporary housing on world.
Cerun examined his quarters. It was much better than he expected, fit for the Admiralty of Bretonnia not Liberty yet with the signature aesthetic of the ISA. Utilitarian grace and muted luxury, as fitting of a Bashar of the Independent Systems Alliance. He sat down at the room's desk and brought up a computer screen. A two-dimensional interface augmented by holographic technology, probably a product of an Earth-based company. He checked the branding of the monitor: Samsung. He made a note to look up the details of the ISA's tech sharing agreements. He opened the news application. The number of news networks on screen surprised him. BBC, CNN, Al Jazeera, Russia Times, Fox News, Earth-based networks dominated the space. The ISA's only network, the Independent News Network, was in the center of the screen but Earth dominated the news space. He browsed the articles and videos of the day. Antallos dominated the cycle, but developments on Earth fostered by the CSN's partnership with the ISA were also present. Rebroadcasts of ComStar's HPG news transmissions were also present, with news stories from all over the Inner Sphere.
A beep came from the door.
"Enter." Cerun called.
"Kev." He greeted as he entered the room.
Cerun turned around. Robert Merlow, his protégé, old friend, and now superior officer stood in the entryway, "What, Silverfish got too boring?"
"You of all people should know that nothing beats being somewhere in person when history is made." Merlow smiled, "Fuckin' hell, fifty years. We never thought we'd see you again."
"You know I don't know how to die. C'mere!" Cerun went in for a hug which Merlow reciprocated, "In all seriousness, I never thought I'd see the day."
Merlow drew back, "What, that your efforts meant something? That we succeeded?"
"That we both survived."
Merlow laughed, "What option did we have?" He sat in a chair on the opposite side of the desk, "What was it you told me? Nothing happens in a vacuum, even in space?"
Cerun snorted as he stepped to the minibar, "Yeah. Every event, every action is with consequence. Fuck, it's been too long." He picked up one of the bottles and examined it, "The hell? St. George Absinthe Verte?"
"One of the perks of trading with Earth. Lots of new options for everything. Well, new to us. We've never seen Earth before."
"Still haven't." Cerun put the bottle down and picked up another, "Care for a drink?"
"Of course."
Cradle Military Administration Complex
12 June 864 AS/2009/3024
The past ten days had been grueling. The crew of the Artemis knew that the debrief would be anything but brief, yet they did not anticipate the length of such thorough examination. Each and every crewmember was interviewed, their memories examined, cross referenced with the ship's database, and medically examined. Simultaneously, the Artemis itself was examined bulkhead by bulkhead. Nothing was left to chance, no nook or cranny left uninspected. This is inspection is what took the most time, as both manned and automated teams had to crawl through every access tube and every orifice. Nothing would be hidden from the watchful eyes of the Independent Systems Navy nor the Systems Security Service. Being out of direct contact for over half a century, the military and intelligence arms of the nation were understandably cautious about their arrival and reintegration into the larger military apparatus.
Siridar Bashar Kevin 'Cerun' DeMers sat in a featureless examination room, the only pieces of furniture within being a table and two chairs. He did a quick mental review of his current itinerary. There was to be a medical procedure to upgrade his cybernetics suite to the latest Mentat spec. His hardware dated from before the exodus, from pre-ISA work. While still sufficient and more than capable of everything needed on and off the battlefield, updates in technology from half a century of research and the cooperation of what remained of his Sirius Sector meant that there was significant room for improvement. After the procedure would be a week of acclimation and three weeks of RnR as the LSV Artemis was refitted for duty.
The door opened and in walked Merlow, "Sorry for all this, Kev." He sat in the chair opposite him.
"Comes with the job. I'm surprised you managed to fully examine the Artemis in a week." Cerun shrugged.
"Helps when the parties involved are willing." Merlow leaned back, "You'll be happy to know that you, your crew and your ship are all in the clear."
Cerun smirked, "Glad to hear it, man."
"This last bit is a formality, but it must be done here rather than my office. Risk management protocol and all that."
"What last bit?"
Merlow handed across a tablet, "Here."
Cerun quickly skimmed the words before him, "My reinstatement and acceptance of ISA cybernetics as a function of said rank. Why here?"
"The rest of the Basharate wanted to make sure you didn't try to kill me and take my place." Merlow chuckled, "My office is plenty secure against that kind of shit, but it'd be harder to clean if you tried."
Cerun laughed, "Marcus really that paranoid?"
Merlow shrugged, "Cleaning centuries-old books is time consuming. Bloodstains in paper? Takes a week to get that all out."
"Fuck you!" Cerun jovially pressed his hand onto the tablet and handed it back, "Despite Tommy's and Marcus' delusions of my intentions, it's good to be back."
"Good to have you back as one of us again. Now, let's get you to medical. Gotta get you up to spec."
Office of the Precentor, HPG Station
Helm
Helm System, Free Worlds League Space
19 June 3024
The events of December of last year weighed heavy on Precentor Emilio Rachan. The local government had kept a tight lid on the specifics, but ROM confirmed an attack on the John Deere factory on planet. The HPG transmissions and inquiries from Irian Technologies did little to hide their intentions leading up to the attack. They had made their intentions very clear with requests for terrain knowledge of paths of transit to and from the factory. Thus was the state of business in the Inner Sphere, and it helped ComStar's overall mission to keep the status quo. What troubled him was that the attack was a complete failure, and any evidence of battle was quickly cleared. Aside from a few errant craters, it was if nothing ever happened. There were transmissions from John Deere to Irian Technologies to ransom back the combatants, but nothing came of it.
ROM managed to capture some footage of the battle, though at a distance to ensure their security. Unknown tanks managed to fire on 'mechs from improbable distances with accuracy unseen since the First Succession War. Aerospace fighters were swatted from the sky as casually as one would kill an insect, by automated turrets no less. The force sent to the seemingly undefended agritech company, a company's worth of vehicles and 'mechs, was completely crushed with no evidence of loss from the defenders. Such engagements were unheard of, as the technology of the Inner Sphere forced combat into a relative melee. Targeting systems were primitive in comparison to the old Star League. For an unknown agricultural firm to employ forces able to not only deliver fire with accuracy unseen in the last few centuries but to do so with seemingly no loss to themselves was suspect in the extreme.
Rachan pulled up the file on John Deere. He read through every piece of information they had on the brand-new company. There were no registered mercenary companies working for them, no evidence of arms deals, nothing. Who provided them with weapons? Where did their security staff come from? How the hell did they have the money to employ a crack military force without their knowledge? Where did they keep such military power? He checked for any reports from ROM of John Deere's security force. A few pictures came up. One of them was infantry units which wore unmarked camouflage, save for the John Deere logo on the shoulders. Another was an unknown IFV model that was seen in the battle. Another was of a tank in the same battle. These vehicles were completely unknown to him and the ComStar internal database. According to the ROM report, these pictures were also sent to Terra for analysis. He hoped that Hilton Head could make sense of this.
The issue of the memory core remained. The location remained a mystery to him. His efforts to locate the old Star League cache on world had been fruitless, and it frustrated him to no end. It was then that a possibility dawned on him. What if John Deere had found the Star League base? What if these unknown vehicles were weapons from that long-lost age? The possibility hung in his mind, and he began to draft a plan of action. The ComGuard garrison on Helm would be insufficient in taking the facility by itself, but there were others he could possibly draw upon. First, he would need confirmation from Terra on what these vehicles were, then a more concrete plan could be put into motion.
DropShip Sword of Restoration
Bellerophon Star Port
Bellerophon System, Unclaimed Space
30 June 3024
The past three years had been hell for High Lady Kamea Arano. Barely surviving the coup on Coromodir thanks to the sacrifice of Raju Montgomery, she had been on the run to escape her traitorous uncle. Through the years of constant movement, she had found an unlikely ally: the Magistracy of Canopus. They were willing to finance her guerrilla war against the now Aurigan Directorate. She knew their motivation. The Magistracy did not want a rump state that answered to one of the other major powers in the periphery. The Free Worlds League, the Capellan Confederation, and the Taurian Concordat were all watching the situation in the Reach with great interest. If one managed to gain influence over the reach, the balance of power would shift, and none would pass on such an opportunity. There were rumblings from those still loyal to her that her uncle Santiago Espinosa pursued an alliance with the Concordat, but nothing of significance had arisen as of yet.
Today was an interesting one. Lady Ana Maria Centrella wanted to meet with her in person, something that had only happened a handful of times over the past three years. Such meetings were usually of great importance, thus she prepared accordingly. Alexander Madeira, her closest advisor and loyal adjutant, accompanied her. Though his family openly supported Director Espinosa, he fled Coromodir with her. His political acumen helped her secure the assistance of the Magistracy and the support of loyalist military forces across the Reach. Under constant threat of assassination, the two of them managed to drum up enough support to initiate her bid to retake her birthright. All she needed now was the tip of her proverbial spear.
They walked through the star port into the marketplace. Their ragged outer clothes disguised their appearance. Though on an independent world, one could never be too sure about those around them. They quickly made their way to the meeting point and were ushered through the doors by what they assumed were plainclothes Magistracy Intelligence agents. Inside they shed the poor rags donned as a disguise and revealed their true identities. Such talks were to be discussed with full dignity. Seated with refreshments, Ana Maria Centrella made herself known and sat opposite them.
"Lady Arano, Lord Madeira." Centrella greeted, "Thank you for your prompt arrival."
"Of course, Lady Centrella." Madeira replied, "It is only proper."
"Now," Arano interjected, "What did you want to discuss?"
"We have provided monetary assistance to your efforts so far, but the Magistracy has seen it necessary to step up said assistance. We would like to provide materiel to your cause."
Arano held back her surprise, "What prompted such a shift?"
"We are close to locating the former Markham's Marauders. Their renaming with the Mercenary Review Board has complicated things somewhat, but we are sure now that we are mere months away from making contact. In addition, there may be another mercenary command that would help bolster and train your forces." Centrella explained.
"That is wonderful news, but that doesn't explain the addition of direct material aid." Madeira noted.
"Well, considering the state of Aurigan Coalition forces before the coup and the state of the Reach as it is now, I would harbor a guess that you would be short on the requisite equipment needed to conduct a prolonged military campaign."
"That.. would be an accurate assessment." Arano conceded, "We have managed to purchase quite a bit on the open market thanks to your support." She countered.
"That is true, but we feel that will not be enough. So, we have decided to transfer this to you with more slated in the future." Centrella passed across a pad of paper.
Madeira looked over the materials page of the document. His eyes bulged a bit, "This is… I've never heard of any of these 'mechs, not to mention the vehicles."
"This is just the tip of the iceberg, Lord Madeira. Conducting a war of scale is quite the business, and Majesty Metals and Manufacturing were eager to provide." Centrella stated with a smile.
"How can we hope to repay such a debt?" Arano asked hesitantly, "We know that this list is at least hundreds of millions of c-bills."
"The details are in the document. I trust you to review it thoroughly before we meet again in a few days."
"Of course, Lady Centrella." Arano rose from her chair, "We will meet again soon."
The trio exchanged handshakes and bows. The architects of the Restoration left promptly, escorted by MIM agents. Lady Centrella was left alone in her thoughts. MIM had accepted the proposal from the ISA with the blessing of the Magestrix herself. With a licensing agreement secure with ISA companies and their technical teams already en route to Canopus, this initial military aid package was to be the first to the Arano Restoration. She still did not know what the ISA hoped to gain from aiding Kamea Arano, but the revitalization of Majesty Metals and Manufacturing took precedence over any foreign policy concerns. MIM had to hand over valuable intelligence along with the diplomatic deal forged with the ISA to secure the Magistracy's industrial future. She raised a cup to tea to her lips. Still, it never hurt to have friends, even those so far away.
"What do you make of it?" Arano asked Madeira in the safety of the DropShip's hull, "This seems far too good to be true."
"They want to send a technical support team to oversee train our people in maintenance and to observe their performance." Madeira stroked his chin, "That must mean these are new designs…"
"New designs? Who would send brand new equipment to arm a small periphery nation?" Arano asked.
"MMM hardly has the industrial capacity for this kind of scale..." Madeira read further into the document, "If they deliver, we would have more than enough to begin our campaign. Hundreds of 'mechs, vehicles, even aerospace craft. Infantry equipment, spare parts, ammunition, everything. Our only limiting factor would be DropShip capacity, and there is a line here for delivery of Wyvern-class and Dragon-class DropShips, whatever they are."
"How could we possibly repay such a thing?" Arano was baffled, "This much hardware is absurdly expensive, and nothing is free."
"We are to hire on a mercenary company called the Black Lotus Battalion. They are to train us on the usage of this new equipment and be at our disposal on the battlefield. There are also other terms to be finalized after we take back the Reach."
"That's ominously open-ended."
"Do we have a choice? Even with loyalist forces on our side, we are significantly outgunned. We can't do this without help. Even with the monetary backing of the Magistracy, there are only so many places that have reliable equipment for purchase at considerable markup. This would solve the problem of initial armament. The Black Lotus Battalion would solve the issue of training. Markham's Marauders would be the tip of the spear. According to this, delivery would be by the beginning of next year. This would be more than enough to arm the MAF, let alone us…"
"My thoughts exactly. I have a distinct feeling that MMM isn't the one making the materiel for us."
"Still. If they can deliver, I don't think we can pass this up." Madeira stressed.
"Despite the possible ties that could bind us?"
"Again, my Lady, what choice do we have? What 'mechs do we have in inventory? What vehicles, combat equipment, food, fuel, logistical support? What Lady Centrella offers is everything we'd need for months of campaigning if we don't have a planet to base ourselves out of. We'll go from this DropShip to a fleet. Even if they only deliver a tenth of what is in this document, that's so much more than what we could procure on our own."
Arano took a breath, "Go over this with a fine-tooth comb, Alexander. We have to know if this holds true. We need assurances that they will deliver. The Restoration can afford no less."
"Yes, my Lady."
Ready Room, ISV Irulan
Achtur/Untran Star High Orbit
Achtur/Untran System, Former Capellan Confederation Space
3 July 864 AS/2009/3024
Bashar Lucas Anderson reviewed the mission handed down from Bashar Superior Marcus Scarman. He wondered why when the Liet-Kynes arrived on Helm they had a technical staff from MSI and former Star League Navy. He found out shortly after their official transferal to his vessel, along with a fresh battalion of marines. They were going to the Alloway system, specifically to a moon called Axylus to retrieve an ancient Star League-era exploratory vessel called the Argo from its surface. It was a result of the diplomatic agreement reached with the Magistracy of Canopus. The billions of c-bills slated for the restoration of the Argo were instead put toward the purchase of materiel from Earth-based defense companies. It was a much more cost-effective solution and gave the Magistracy itself a chance to rearm itself ahead of the revitalization of their own defense industry with more than enough to arm the Aurigan Restoration. In less than a year, Earth-produced products would be front and center in a conflict where relevant data could be collected and analyzed. That was not his concern.
The retrieval of the Argo was, and it was a tricky proposition. The Magistracy put forth a brilliant doctor well versed in mechanical engineering in the Inner Sphere which fit all the criteria needed to get the Argo space-worthy again, but Anderson had serious misgivings. The security risk was astronomical, allowing an Inner Sphere native close to one of the ISA's most advanced vessels and interacting with MSI and Star League engineers, but it was determined by Scarman to be an acceptable risk to get the Argo off Axylus. He put forth a formal protest, but ultimately had to follow the orders given to him. After the retrieval of the doctor from the Free Worlds League, they set course for Alloway. He made sure that the doctor was under constant surveillance on board the Irulan, but they still had to familiarize themselves with the technical team the ISA had assembled. Such interaction was necessary for completion of the mission.
There was also the issue of how to assault the moon while minimizing damage to the Argo. A company of newly produced ISA BattleMechs were a part of his marine battalion. Eight of the new block of seventy-five ton Kartikeyas and eight of the brand new fifty-five ton Bishamontens. Malakitona State Industries had been hard at work incorporating the lessons learned on Antallos and expanding the ISA's family of 'mechs. The updates to the Kartikeya design and the simulated battles with the Bishamonten looked promising, but this would be the first deployment of the medium 'mech platform outside of simulations. For all the pilots, this would be their first 'mech deployment in combat. They had all undergone training in the simulation farms on Cradle and Earth, but nothing beat real combat. The battalion had spent the better part of their transit in the holodecks, training for their eventual drop on Axylus. Their only point of reference was the map of an apocryphal video game that hadn't even been created yet, but it gave them Artru so they were inclined to use it as a baseline with all variety of Inner Sphere and Star League equipped opponents.
His thoughts were interrupted by the beep of his door.
"Enter." He called.
"Sir." In walked Colonel Mahmoud Khoroushi, former tanker of the Iranian Army turned ISA Marine and 'mech pilot. He stood at attention across from Anderson.
"Colonel Khoroushi." Anderson motioned him to be at ease, "Sit, please."
"Yes, sir." Khorourshi sat across from his superior officer.
"How are you holding up so far on board the Irulan?"
"The vessel is impressive, sir, though not as spacious as the Liet-Kynes." He paused, "As for myself, I am adjusting well. Your crew are consummate professionals and the soldiers under my command are prepared to carry out your orders."
"Glad to hear it. Your equipment up to spec?"
"According to the technicians, everything is within parameters. We will not know the true combat capabilities of the 'mechs in this particular environment until we land, but I have confidence in the 'mechs."
"Tell me, how do you find piloting a 'mech compared to commanding a tank?"
Khorourshi gave the question some thought, "…It is an experience unlike any other. The stories from the pilots of Antallos ring true, you feel like God on the battlefield. There is a sense of invincibility, especially with your shield systems. Those that trained us made sure to swiftly uncouple us from that notion. A 'mech can be killed without being destroyed, just the same as a tank. Perhaps even more so. Even with the advanced design of the Kartikeya and Bishamonten, if your legs are taken out from under you, you are rendered combat ineffective in short order. Yet, the terrain you can traverse in such an armored beast is remarkable. Jump jets, they allow for so much more mobility, the legs themselves can travel terrain that would bog down my old Zulfiquar, and that was close to the same mass as the Bishamonten."
"That's a glowing endorsement of BattleMechs." Anderson noted.
"Still, that lingering sense of vulnerability stands. It does not feel as safe as a tank, but perhaps that is an advantage in of itself. You are your copilot must be in sync, lest an enemy catch you unaware."
"Sounds like being in an aerospace fighter."
"I would not know. I assume that it is somewhat slower."
Anderson smiled, "That would be an understatement. Aside from that, Colonel, I wanted to ask you another question."
"Yes, sir?"
"How has your experience been as a member of the ISA Marines?"
"Different. The Iranian Army is regimented, very similar to the ISA, but I have not seen the level of flexibility here. Officers, NCOs, even the lowliest soldier has a tactical and operational freedom I am not used to."
"Understandable. I trust your career will be fruitful here, given your record so far. Now, concerning your proposed force composition…"
Crew Quarters
She sat in her assigned room, still in awe in the situation she found herself in. The Magistracy had contacted her for a job, one of the most spectacular opportunities of her engineering career. To raise the Argo, a ship lost right before the fall of the Star League, how could she pass up such an opportunity? Not unusually, the terms changed. On Pilpala, she awaited her Magistracy contact to proceed with her contract. She was escorted by the contact to a ground car, then was driven for hours outside the large city. Then she was ushered into another ground car to some place in the wilderness. There awaited a DropShip, a model she couldn't recognize. There she was informed that her contract was transferred to the Independent Systems Alliance, a nation she had heard of in passing on some of ComStar's news reports. In an astonishing amount of time, she found herself on a starship, larger than any she had ever been in or seen in her life. There was gravity on the vessel without the use of rotation, unknown uniforms, technology unseen in the Inner Sphere since the Star League or ever. For Doctor Farah Murad this assignment was a dream come true.
She accessed her room's computer: a slim monitor with touch screen controls, a keyboard, and a mouse. She accessed what information was made available to her, understandably restricted given her contract. She had discussed with the technical team what it would take to get the Argo off the surface of a moon. Among the technicians was a group of engineers that were extremely familiar with the construction and maintenance of Star League-era vessels. That was suspect, but she wasn't paid to speculate. She reviewed the data provided, the technical schematic marked from Boeing Interstellar. It was a relic of hope for a peaceful era, right before the Inner Sphere drowned in war. That was then, and now that symbol had to be resurrected for this age. There were multiple contingencies, dependent on how the vessel crashed and the level of damage. Data sent from the Magistracy gave them an approximate mass of the moon. If the engines are even somewhat functional then it should be able to free itself under its own power. The biggest problem was rooting out the pirates that call the wreckage their base of operations. They would be allowed in after the ISA Marines cleared the vessel of all hostiles. She shuddered at the thought of what the interior would look like when she and her team arrive.
Murad sent a message to Doctor Tähti Fischer, her liaison and head of the tech team. She asked for the equipment manifest that they would be deploying with. An instant later she received the document. The list impressed her. Everything from armored environmental suits to structural reinforcement to ensure what remained of the Argo made it off Axylus. She cross-referenced it with her own gear.
They weren't kidding when they said I wouldn't need to provide a thing. She thought to herself. These ISA folks weren't fromm some periphery backwater, that was certain. They even exceeded the technical capacity of the major houses. She made a note to check any news of the ISA when she got a chance. She had to know who she was working for.
Central Marketplace
Bellerophon Star Port
Bellerophon System, Unclaimed Space
8 July 3024
"Lady Centrella," Madeira greeted as the trio sat, "we have some questions."
"Understandable." Lady Centrella took a sip of tea, "Please present your concerns."
"I've done some preliminary calculations based on common market prices for the equivalent equipment you have listed here. Approximately three-hundred-thirty million c-bills for the BattleMechs; one-hundred-ten million for the armored vehicles; sixty-million for the infantry equipment and logistical supplies; five-hundred-million for the aerospace fighters; almost a billion for the DropShips. Lady Centrella, forgive me, but two billion c-bills is a large amount of money to pay back for a nation that will be recovering from a civil war. According to the documents there is more to come. What does the Magistracy hope to gain with such an investment?"
Centrella placed her teacup daintily upon the table, "A friend across the periphery. You must know that the other powers in the region look upon the developments in the Reach with great interest. To have a friend against possible aggression from the others is worth more than a couple billion c-bills, wouldn't you agree?"
"Nothing is without cost, Lady Centrella. The estimates for recovery after the conclusion of the conflict are tenuous at best, but I can't say that we will have a particularly robust economy until years after."
"That is why so much equipment has been provided. If this war can conclude with relative speed, that will push the timetable for recovery forward. You can rest assured that this will be an equitable partnership. War is costly, but we can mitigate the cost by a swift conclusion."
"I must also ask, where is this equipment coming from? It is not secret that Majesty Metals and Manufacturing has been struggling with production for centuries since the collapse of the Star League. I find it hard to believe that now MMM has the capacity to produce not only equipment for the Magistracy Armed Forces, but also ourselves."
Centrella thought about this. She knew that a question like this might be raised and carefully considered her response, "We have licensing agreements in place with manufacturers eager to provide their designs in Magistracy space. We thought it prudent to see those designs in action. That is why technical support teams are included."
"In such numbers? No house in the Inner Sphere would ever allow a potential enemy access to this much materiel."
"We all tend to find friends in the strangest of places, wouldn't you agree Lady Arano?"
Kamea Arano deigned to join the conversation so far. There was much to learn by listening, but she was called for a response, "You're not wrong, Lady Centrella. Though today's friend just may end up as tomorrow's enemy."
Centrella nodded, "We must all ride the waves that ripple through the universe. We are willing to take the risk in the hope that your ascension to your rightful throne will allow for a fruitful and secure relationship with the Aurigan Reach. This is not done out of simple charity or goodwill. With you back on the throne, we hope that future agreements between our nations are built on a foundation of cooperation. Not only for us, but for the rest of the periphery."
Arano mulled over Centrella's words. With no defined repayment plan on the documents, that meant that the Magistracy wanted soft power in the Reach. Favorable trade rates, increased presence of Magistracy-based businesses, economic presence rather than a military one. Was it something she could live with? The Reach would need to rebuild, and the presence of trade from a friendly power would help her people recover. Such an arrangement would cost some economic independence, but that would be in the short term. She would have to maneuver the future carefully. In the now, could she afford to turn down such material aid? No. The amount of proposed equipment would tip the balance of power in her favor. The future of the Reach needed a proper outline, and Madeira had prepared a counter proposal. She took a breath.
"Lady Centrella," Arano motioned to Maderia to retrieve their own prepared document, "we have a counter proposal. We are more than willing to accept such materiel, but we want a more concrete plan for restitution after the war's conclusion. We've put together this addendum to the aid documents." She nodded and Madeira handed across the addendum.
Centrella carefully read over the concrete repayment proposal. The allowance of MMM to hire Aurigan miners on Artru would help alleviate the projected mineral shortfalls after full industrial reactivation. This would allow the Magistracy to utilize the minerals on Canopus itself as more of a strategic reserve in the event of wartime production. Favorable merchant rates were also quite appealing given that a rebuilding Reach would be in need of ready-made equipment for their own industrial, infrastructure, and agricultural efforts. With the rates locked in for a decade after the conclusion of the war along with mining rights on Artru, it would be safe to say that the cost of this and future materiel would be safely covered. She mentally congratulated Arano and Madeira. They knew that to allow a blank check for aid would tie them to the Magistracy for the entirety of her life, something that she was sure Arano would much rather avoid. This was an elegant solution, and Centrella saw no issue with the proposal as written. She lifted a pen off the table and signed the document.
"No counter proposal?" Arano was genuinely taken aback, "No need to confirm with Canopus?"
"I was given complete authority for this endeavor, Lady Arano. What is written clearly benefits the Magistracy's interests. Your proposal is accepted. This will be more than sufficient to cover this and future materiel." Centrella smiled, "Good luck to you, Lady Arano and Lord Madeira. War is never easy, especially when fighting at home. We'll keep in touch."
Bridge, ISV Irulan
En Route to Axylus
Alloway System, Unclaimed Space
12 July 864 AS/2009/3024
Bashar Lucas Anderson had ordered a Baliset flight ahead of the Irulan as soon as they entered the system two days prior. There was no set timetable for the mission, but Anderson wanted the Argo in their possession as soon as possible to minimize their presence in this remote region of space. Pirates were always variable, and in his experience they had to be crafty to survive. To live on the edge of civilization among some of the worst the galaxy had to offer, there was no choice. With that level of savage freedom only the worst among them could survive. That was why he was especially cautious for the upcoming deployment.
"Gods, I hate fighting in no atmo." Anderson muttered to himself. He redirected his attention to sensors, "Do we have a live link from our Balisets?"
"Yes, sir." The holo-table flared to life with contacts and terrain displayed, "They've deployed recon assets over the moon."
"Good. Gods, this terrain looks like shit." Anderson noted.
Khoroushi closely examined the holo-table, "Our vehicles are going to have problems with this. The terrain does not give us the range advantage that we exploit in our engagements. To deploy them in range for them to be effective, we would be exposed to a rather nasty looking AA umbrella. Our 'mechs on the other hand, their mobility we can utilize. They can be dropped out of detection range and move in. Look here." He pointed at two structures, "These look like power infrastructure. If we destroy those, that should bring down the automated defenses and allow the Balisets to deploy vehicles and infantry. It would also clear the skies for aerospace support."
"Yeah. We can't risk orbital bombardment. We want the Argo as intact as possible." Anderson pointed to a crater two kilometers away from the crash site, "The Balisets can land here with your company and can be on standby for air support once the turrets are down. We shouldn't risk them unless the situation gets real bad. We have enough time. Reconfigure one of the mechanized infantry companies for artillery support. You can land shells in conjunction with your assault, just make sure your targets are locked in and minimize damage to the vessel."
"Aye, sir."
Hangar Bay
Today was one of preparation. Marines and technical staff all examined their gear to ensure optimal functionality and performance. They still had a couple days of transit until they reached Axylus so it was the perfect time for their checks. Marines checked their vehicles, weapons, and equipment. The technical team checked their notes, space in the Balisets, and their own gear. Hundreds of people conducted their tasks with efficiency as the day went on.
Doctor Murad stretched in her custom exosuit. The armorers on board the Irulan had looked at her exosuit and shook their collective heads its condition. It had been handed down to her by her grandfather and according to him had been in the family for generations and could trace its lineage back to the First Succession War. Such age was apparent, as many slapdash repairs had been made to it over the centuries. When it got in the hands of the ISA's armorers, they completely overhauled it. The exoskeleton was rebuilt with new materials, the ballistic fabrics replaced. New armor plates were manufactured and fitted. The helmet was repaired, Inner Sphere ballistic glass replaced by a sleek ISA-spec visor. The on-board computer was torn out and replaced with an ISA 'virtual intelligence' and 'omni-tool' suite. It even had a heads-up display that responded to her vocal commands. A relic of a bygone era was transformed into, in her mind, the absolute cutting edge of technology she had seen or heard of anywhere. When she asked if these customizations were special or bleeding edge, the answer was simple.
"This is standard issue."
Standard issue. That statement said it all. This equipment was battle proven, run through years of iteration before it was placed upon an ancient suit of armor. When she asked why they decided to marry their tech to such a relic, they answered with another utilitarian response.
"Easier to fit this all on something that already fits you than trying to get one of our suits to fit."
She had to make sure that after this contract was over, she kept any tech they gave her. This hardware was light years ahead of the rest of the Inner Sphere. She could make an absolute killing reverse engineering it and selling it on the open market. She made a mental note to check her contract for specifics. They also handed her a couple of weapons. A handgun and a rifle. She explained that she was an engineer and didn't need them, but they insisted. She was classified as a 'combat engineer,' so despite her protests she was armed for deployment. If all went according to plan, she wouldn't need to use them. They were to deploy after the marines had cleared the Argo of pirates. While they maintained site security, Murad and the rest of the team would work to get the Argo spaceworthy enough to get off the surface of the moon. They would have all the time they needed, at least that was the plan. It was straightforward, simple. The best plans were. She also knew that even the best laid plans tended to not survive contact with the enemy. She picked up the handgun handed to her by the quartermaster. She sincerely hoped she wouldn't need to use it.
Axylus Surface
15 July 864 AS/2009/3024
The fine gray dust sat on the calm ground, still as the harsh light from Alloway's star faded below the horizon. Darkness cloaked the moon; the only light came from the distant stars of the night sky and the distant settlement of the Argo's remains. The surface rumbled. The dust kicked up into a cloud as the peace of vacuum gave way to the silent roar of approaching humanity. Eight Baliset transports touched down, their presence unknown to the secluded occupants of the Argo but unmistakable as clouds of gray engulfed them. Through the dust, the ramps of the transports revealed their contents. Out poured eight Kartikeyas, eight Bishamontens, eight Vernius IFVs armed with MSI light artillery pieces, and a platoon of exosuited ISA Marine infantry. The 'mechs and infantry quickly secured the landing site as the Vernius' readied their artillery positions.
Colonel Khoroushi, though a field grade, insisted he pilot a Kartikeya into battle. He had trained for the past year as a 'mech pilot and felt a responsibility to lead his soldiers from the front. He coordinated with the satellite and drone coverage of the pirate encampment, identified the primary targets of the attack, and set his soldiers on their jobs. His copilot confirmed the orders sent and he led the 'mechs forward the twenty kilometers to the pirate base. They had their objectives: destroy the enemy power generators; draw out and engage enemy forces; ensure site security as infantry cleared out the Argo. Khoroushi briefed the battalion on the possible composition of enemy forces. From satellite coverage, drone, and Baliset flyovers they determined that at least two armored platoons were present along with at least a BattleMech platoon. They assumed reserves, as deploying all combat capable vehicles would be foolish in the extreme. One did not survive as a pirate on the fringe by being stupid.
His copilot relayed relevant enemy movement as they advanced, their movement as smooth as they could be. The darkness served them here as there was nothing to silhouette them in the shadows. They relied on their night vision, sensor suite, and battlefield uplink to route them through the twists of the terrain. He ordered jump discipline as the heat and visual signature of jumping 'mechs would give away their approach. The lack of atmosphere helped with noise discipline. 'Mech movement was quieter than their armor, but one could hardly call them silent. In the relative silence the 'mechs marched forward.
Grim Sybil considered herself lucky. The wreckage of this ancient DropShip made the perfect base of operations for her new tenure as Pirate Queen of Axylus. She had conducted successful raids against neighboring systems and had amassed a small fortune over the past few years. No one had managed to find her, though those she had visited violence upon did put a decent bounty on her head. Axylus was why they never found her. Alloway was an abandoned system, lost over time thanks to the chaos of the Succession Wars. The fact she was on this lifeless rock made the chance of discovery even more remote, with the wrecked DropShip the only real habitable place on the lifeless rock. Despite this, she took after her idol and former boss Paula 'Lady Death' Trevaline. She instilled cooperation and loyalty from her band of misfits, at gunpoint if needed. They all understood the rules of working under her: pay a quarter of their loot as tribute; never work against her; and don't abuse those who worked for her. She took the rules directly from Trevaline and they worked.
She walked down the corridors of her domain, up to the bridge of the grounded vessel. She examined the status of the patrols out and about the surface of the moon. Rumors of unknown DropShips and new lights over Axylus had spread in previous days. Though she thought it a waste of time she sent patrols out to verify that no one had found her lair. There had been attempts in the past to oust her from her place of power by other small pirate bands, but no one had ever brought enough firepower to match her own. Her raids had accumulated quite a force of 'mechs and vehicles to raid the local worlds and defend against those previous attacks. Every single one only brought a lance's worth of decrepit 'mechs for her quartermaster to delve through and salvage. The last attempt brought her quite a trophy, a Quickdraw. She 'graciously' gifted her old Shadowhawk to her second and she claimed the heavy 'mech for herself. It proved to be a formidable raider, perfect for hit-and-run attacks. She surprised more than one militia 'mech with the full complement of medium lasers to her rear arc. She shoved the reminiscence back as she noted a gap in the patrol.
There were two lances out on the prowl with orders to maintain a distance of no more than a kilometer between them, but the much faster light 'mechs of the first lance had widened the distance from the less mobile vehicle lance. She shook her head. The gap between was now at least three kilometers, enough for an enemy to exploit. Her hand reached for the radio toggle.
*BOOM*
The lair rocked from an explosion and threw her to the ground. She grabbed the console and pulled herself back up.
"What the hell was that?" She boomed over the din.
"A perimeter generator just went down!" Her security master Ruskin yelled as he pulled one cup of his headset of his ears.
*BOOM*
"Jesus fuck, the other one's down too!" Ruskin frantically pulled up the base's holo-table display, "AA is down! Who in the shit is hitting us!?"
"Murphy to Queen's Lair!" the comms crackled, "Come in, Queens Lair!"
Sybil toggled the comms, "Murphy, what the fuck hit us!?" she demanded.
"No idea, but they hit Dewey's Locust." A brief pause, "He's still up, but missing half his torso. Fuck, that was a single shot!"
"Group up and fight back to the perimeter." She toggled comms off and turned her attention to perimeter security, "Ruskin, turrets?"
"Hold." He pressed his headset into his ear, "Fucked. We don't have a direct link from the ship's core to the turret network and the hits completely mangled both generators. People say it'll take thirty minutes to patch together something."
"Get every asshole with a 'mech out there and make sure whoever the hell is hitting us stops. Permanently. I want tanks, trucks, whatever we have with gun out there to stop them!"
"You got it." Ruskin switched on internal comms, "Attention. Attention. All hands to muster stations. We are under attack."
"Queen's Lair to Blythe." Sybil called over the radio to the lead vehicle of that lance, "Blythe, come in." Silence greeted her, "Blythe! Wake the fuck up, we're under attack!"
"Bravo Platoon reports complete destruction of enemy vehicle element." Khoroushi's copilot Lieutenant Helene Pekkanen reported, "Delta reports enemy 'mech element has retreated with damage. Their light 'mechs managed to duck out of range."
Khoroushi scanned their immediate surroundings. Charlie Platoon was five hundred meters ahead securing their advance. He had a moment to analyze the situation. The Bishamonten's of Bravo Platoon were credited with the kills, the first success of the new medium 'mech design. Delta was not quite quick enough to catch the small light 'mechs and the result showed. There was no mistaking it now, they had awoken the wasp's nest. Recon assets confirmed vehicles and 'mechs mustering within the compound ready to meet them. He decided that it was a good idea to soften them up before they were under his guns.
"India One, this is Alpha One. Adjust fire, over." Khoroushi called to the artillery commander.
"This is India One, adjust fire, out." Came the response.
"Grid charlie x-ray three six five seven four four niner one zero, over."
"Grid charlie x-ray three six five seven four four niner one zero, out."
"Armored company in the open, VT in effect, over."
"Armored company in the open, VT in effect. Authenticate echo foxtrot, over."
"I authenticate oscar papa, out." Khoroushi finished the call for artillery and awaited their response. His Kartikeya moved with haste to close more distance. He needed to get eyes on shell fall, "Pekkanen, time till we clear the ridge?"
"Three minutes, sir." She responded, "Alpha Two and Four are already within visual range."
"Very well."
Sybil sprinted to the 'mech bay. She had to lead from the front the best she knew how. Her subordinates were ruthless, fearsome scoundrels capable in combat but needed a firm hand to direct them. She intended to be that hand. Around her everyone was suiting up. Helmets were donned, guns checked one last time before they threw themselves into the fray. She stopped in the locker room and quickly secured her neurohelmet and it's EVA adaptation. She learned the hard way having nearly passed out on a world with thin atmosphere how important the full helmet was. She cleared the room and more unpleasant news greeted her.
*BOOM* *BOOM *BOOM* *BOOM* *BOOM* *BOOM* *BOOM* *BOOM*
A quick succession of explosions near threw her off her feet if not for the railing beside her. She held on for dear life as the 'mech bay shuddered. Despite the shaking, she pressed the comms button on her helmet and shoved it on her head as she ran for her 'mech.
"What just hit us now!?" She yelled over the chaos.
"A goddamn rain of shellfire from the looks of things." Ruskin responded, "We're trying to triangulate where the fire came from. They hit the primary muster station and devastated the 'mechs and vehicles there."
"Numbers, Ruskin." She demanded as a lift took her to her waiting Quickdraw.
"Hold." The line went silent as Ruskin collated the relevant data and sent it to her waiting 'mech, "Six vehicles immobile, two 'mechs completely inoperable. Three 'mech pilots knocked out, but they're rushing new pilots into those cockpits as we speak."
"Spread them out!" She buckled herself into her harness and began the startup procedure, "We need to draw them into a running fight, play to our strengths."
"Captain Hookworm is already coordinating our defenses." Ruskin stated, "He reports multiple enemy contacts ready to breech our perimeter."
"Strength?"
"Unknown. They're barely registering on sensors. We have to rely strictly on manual targeting."
Great. She thought to herself, "Tell Hookworm to nab a lance and form up on me. We're hitting these bastards."
Khoroushi observed the fall of the volley of sixteen variable time artillery shells sent downrange at the pirate concentration. They had grouped up nicely for the shells to have full effect on the vehicles and 'mechs gathered for a counterattack. He watched in approval as explosive hellfire rained down and tore through the formation. Tires blew, turrets popped off, and a few of the 'mechs were knocked over. A couple of them looked too savaged to be usable for the upcoming engagement, but some that were knocked down looked in good enough condition to be crewed again. He shifted his attention to the rest of his forces.
"We're moving in to tighten the noose. Order the advance." He commanded.
"Yes, sir." Pekkanen transmitted orders to the rest of the 'mech company, "All platoons confirm and are advancing."
"Excellent. Hang on." Khoroushi willed his Kartikeya forward and jumped the 'mech down the ridge.
As they landed, his VI picked up points of interest: a weak point in the makeshift wall around the Argo and a potential defensive position left over from the deactivation of one of the turrets. He aimed at the weak point and pressed the triggers for his missiles and rail guns. The makeshift ferrocrete shattered and sent pieces flying in towards the defenders. Pekkanen marked the location for the rest of the company and shifted his focus to the defensive position. He pressed the triggers again. The deactivated turret cracked under the weight of the Kartikeya's firepower, exploding silently in the vacuum of the dead world. Satisfied, he ordered the rest of Alpha Platoon to breech the perimeter and begin the systematic dismantling of what remained of the pirate's defense.
Lieutenant Silas 'Hookworm' Black's Shadowhawk fired into the new hole created by whoever was attacking them. He had ordered the remains of the defense to spread out as to not get caught by another artillery strike. Grim Sybil's Quickdraw was just a hundred meters beside, rallying the rabble and coordinating their defense. Whoever hit them were not another pirate band, not by a longshot. This kind of firepower, this amount of hardware was reserved for a proper nation-state. He wondered who it could be as he sent another volley into the breech. The Aurigans were too busy consolidating after their coup. The Canopians, they were too far away from their space nor did they take any important hostages during their raids. Marik? No, that didn't make sense, this was too far out and no League traderoutes had come their way in recent years. Capellans? Same thing, no reason for them to come out this way. Then who the hell sent this kind of force for them?
Four black 'mechs came over and through the wall. His computer had trouble locking onto them, something the scout lance made mention of. It also couldn't identify them. The model was not in the system. He cursed, paused a moment to steady his aim, and squeezed off an alpha strike at the nearest 'mech. His SRMs, LRMs, lasers and AC fire reached out to the unknown enemy. To his horror the missiles were swatted from existence from the lasers of the offender. His own lasers and AC5 travelled true and seemed to make good purchase, but through the smoke the 'mech emerged completely unscathed. His heat climbed to uncomfortable levels, but he had just enough capacity in the moon's lack of atmosphere for one more alpha before he had to pause for a bit. He squeezed off another volley and began to turn his 'mech to take cover. The second shot was the same as the first, except another 'mechs lasers helped his target cut down the missiles in midflight. The lasers and AC5 again found their mark, and again were completely useless. Before he managed to clear their firing line, he felt the telltale shock of impacts on his 'mech. He winced at the neurohelmet feedback as he glanced at his armor indicator. To his horror his entire right torso was gone, cleaved straight off. More impacts as he helplessly watched as his center torso was torn apart. There was no saving the Shadowhawk now. Hookworm straightened up in his seat and punched the ejection button. His world went white then faded away as his Shadowhawk went critical.
"Shift fire!" Khoroushi moved to the nearest cover, a pillar of rock carved out of the surface. He checked his shield strength: sixty percent. Lower performance than expected. He made a mental note to have the tech team examine the wreckage after the battle. He jumped the Kartikeya on top of the pillar and spotted a heavy 'mech surrounded by a lance of light 'mechs. The VI identified them as a Quickdraw, two Jenner 7-Ds, a Locust 1S and Commando 2D. He targeted the sprinting Locust and let loose a full alpha strike. Without verifying a kill, he switched targets. As his weapons were almost ready to fire, a Jenner running in the opposite direction disappeared from his sights under the weight of fire of one of his platoon's 'mechs. Surviving pirate vehicles rounded a corner and ran a screen to defend what 'mechs remained.
"Where is Bravo Platoon!?" He exclaimed as his shields whittled away from the new contacts.
"They are engaged along the walls." Pekkanen reported, "Charlie is seconds awa-" She was cut off as the ground rumbled from a series of explosions, "Scratch that, they're here."
The defense was collapsing. Sybil had watched as Hookworm barely escaped her old overloading Shadowhawk. She watched two of her dwindling 'mech force utterly annihilated as unknown 'mechs marched into her home. She looked up and saw multiple DropShips on their way down. She snarled. Grim Sybil would not go down without a fight. LRMs and SRMs flew from her Quickdraw to divert enemy attention. She jumped behind one of the masses of ferrocrete her people made as a base for their 'art.' Vehicles fired their own weapons as the remaining Jenner and Commando broke for cover. Some of her infantry emerged from pockets in the Argo with man portable anti-tank weapons. Missiles, lasers, autocannon rounds flew into the advancing enemy, but nothing seemed to halt them. A Bulldog fell, then a Galleon. What opportunities they had to stop them were quickly evaporating. A Striker exploded a hundred meters away. She popped around the corner and fired an alpha strike at the nearest 'mech. Her missiles and lasers finally found purchase as she watched violence inflicted directly on the 'mech's armor. Sybil raised her fist in victory. Her elation was short-lived as that 'mech turned toward her.
Khoroushi winced, lined up his shot, and pressed the triggers for an alpha strike. A rotary rail gun, twin pulse lasers, and a full complement of missiles flew at the Quickdraw that cratered his armor. In a literal flash the offending 'mech was smashed by the dense firepower of the seventy-five-ton Kartikeya. The pilot stood no chance as a millisecond later the reactor went critical. The resulting explosion threw pieces of the former sixty ton 'mech around the battlefield. He had no time to revel in victory as the enemy fire began to wane. There were still plenty of contacts, and the infantry company was just beginning to breech the Argo proper.
Captain Jay Cremonesi's Vernius disembarked from his Baliset to a hell of a sight. The crashed Argo was so much more intimidating in person, a relic of the Star League converted to a pirate nest. The rest of Alpha Platoon secured their landing zone with their vehicles and personnel. Bravo through Echo were in the process of securing the landing sites according to plan. Recon assets had identified three breech points they could take advantage of: the 'mech bay, an entrance close to the engineering section, and a makeshift entrance close to the bridge. He would personally oversee the assault of the 'mech bay with Bravo Platoon. It was probably going to be well guarded even with the battle raging on the other side of the Argo. Fighting in a ship completely negated the range advantage they enjoyed with their weapons systems, but superior training and equipment still gave them an edge.
He analyzed the current battlefield scenario. Bravo was already engaged at the 'mech bay doors. Reports indicated that enemy infantry had hardened positions within and were fighting ferociously even going so far as to man 'mechs under repair for additional firepower. Charlie and Delta were preparing to blow through to the engineering door. Defenders had decided against fighting at a distance and had instead withdrawn from the perimeter. The lieutenants in charge of those platoons anticipated heavy resistance as soon as they were in the wire. Echo had a more delicate job. While Alpha through Delta handled the main breeching efforts, Echo had to hold back and conceal their intentions. They were to seize the bridge as the battle intensified, to cut the head off their command and control as the battle was at its peak. The hope was that the battle throughout the rest of the ship would divert personnel from the defense of the bridge to the other hotspots.
Cremonesi's Vernius drove forward to join Lieutenant Yuri Yoshioka, head of Bravo Platoon. The gunner locked their sights on the 'mech bay and scanned for targets. The Vernius' of Bravo Platoon were already engaged and their infantry were pressing the advantage of their suppressive fire. He opened a comms channel.
"Bravo-One-One, this is Alpha-One-One, over." He called.
"Alpha-One-One, go ahead, over." Yoshioka responded.
"The rest of Alpha and I are within a hundred meters of your rear. Status, over."
"Tough going, Alpha-One-One. They're resilient, gotta give credit where it's due. We've managed to close some distance, but they do have a good volume of fire, over."
"Roger, Bravo-One-One." He was interrupted briefly by a burst of fire from his vehicle, "We'll help increase your firepower, over and out."
Alpha Platoon's vehicles opened up as their VI's picked up targets within the 'mech bay. The constant 'pom-pom' of the cannons, the hiss and hum of lasers, and the occasional 'fwoosh' of missiles filled the interior of the Vernius IFVs, significantly lessened by the headsets and helmets worn by crew and mounted infantry. The light of the infantry bay was a dim red as they closed in on the entrance. Cremonesi sent a call over internal comms.
"Prepare to disembark!" The color of the lights switched to yellow, "Two minutes!"
Ruskin's eyes darted from holo-table to the numerous monitors in front of him. He was the last person on board the separated their band of hardened raiders from disintegrating to a slaughtered rabble. The DropShips that added more enemy forces had completely escaped his sight, but he conceded internally that the sensors on the Argo were spotty at best. Given the destruction of the external generators that powered not only the turrets but the early warning system, it stood to reason that they would drop unnoticed. The vehicles, however, showed up clear as day as they approached. He diverted forces from bridge to the 'mech bay and engineering. The 'mech bay saw the worst of it as it had the largest concentration of their hardware. The enemy knew that and sent a sizable mechanized force to crush resistance there. Engineering wasn't much better. If they took that, then technically they had control of the ship. He had to leave the bridge entrance sparsely defended with maybe twenty ne'er do wells.
He had a decent enough plan to defend the bridge entrance if they did attack. It was a tactic he learned from raiding with Sybil. Draw the enemy in and crush them with whatever means you had. There were explosives planted all over the outer entrance. When they breeched the walls and attempted to gain access to the inner airlock, boom. They had a fatal funnel, and Ruskin intended to make these people bleed for every square meter of the Argo.
"Porter, patch up the holes at the main entrance!" he yelled over the radio, "Grey, double time with the AT! It's the only thing between us as those damn 'mechs!"
His eyes glanced at the holo-table. The contacts were getting worryingly close to breeching both the 'mech bay and engineering.
"Bay force, staggered retreat! Plan Red, I repeat, Plan Red!" He swapped channels, "Engineering, staggered retreat! Plan Orange! Plan Orange!"
He figured Sybil was dead. Her Quickdraw exploded spectacularly. Hookworm was out there somewhere, but of no use to him now. His Shadowhawk was dead, and he was at best unconscious. He shoved the thoughts out of his mind as yet another proverbial fire needed to be put out.
Corporal Emmy Hawkins sprinted out of her Vernius as soon as the ramp opened. The faint green light of the interior was replaced by the dazzle of battle. She pressed herself against a fallen mass of ferrocrete and peeked around the corner. Bravo Platoon were taking the heat off them and allowed them to get inside the 'mech bay proper. She spotted an enemy identified by her VI and leveled her Kindjal. She pressed the trigger twice and watched the target fall. She shifted quickly to the next. Two trigger presses. Another fallen enemy. She had no time to react to their demise as it appeared as they were withdrawing deeper into the ship. A call came over comms.
"Alpha-One-One to Platoon," Cremonesi rang over the channel, "Advance into the ship! Watch your fire and don't get hemmed in, out!"
She motioned for her squad to advance as both Alpha and Bravo Platoon's vehicles laid down suppressive fire. Her VI picked up a couple more contacts as she ran forward. She reached a leg of a 'mech in the bay and steadied herself against it. A burst of gunfire made her recoil from the edge of the leg. A squadmate put down the offender with cold efficiency. She lifted her Kindjal and pressed the trigger a few more times. One after another enemy soldiers fell.
"Move!" She ordered her squad to the nearest doors. She motioned for a breech as the squad stacked up. One member planted a breeching charge. She gave them the signal. In a flash the door blew inward, shards of metal travelled at frightening velocity at anyone or anything within. A moment later, she and another squaddie tossed in flashbangs and high explosive grenades.
*BANG* *BANG* *BANG* *BANG* *BANG*
The squad entered as one and fanned out to clear their entry. Rounds flew from the other end as pirates that managed to retreat from the 'mech bay successfully. Two of her squadmates went down as she loosed off shots before she scrambled for cover. She hurriedly grabbed a smoke grenade and threw it toward the enemy. Crouched behind what remained of a wall, she kept firing as the smoke grenade exploded. Under the cover of smoke, she and another squadmate dragged their fallen comrades out of the line of fire. She handed them off to the corpsman and continued the advance. She signaled for more grenades to be thrown. Her squad complied, and more explosives were sent to the pirates in an unfriendly manner. After a few seconds the fire ceased. Hawkins and her squad pressed on.
Ruskin's panic grew as he felt the figurative noose tighten. The 'mech bay perimeter had fallen and there were forces in the Argo itself. The engineering perimeter was on the verge of collapse. He felt the battle from the bridge, the shaking was constant now. The front 'courtyard' was all but abandoned. There was no real place for a 'mech to breech, and the enemy 'mechs were making no effort to damage or destroy the Argo, so he leveraged that. Despite the savage losses already suffered by the pirate band there were still a couple hundred ruffians left to repel the enemy. He switched the holo-table to an internal view of the Argo. There was a last-ditch contingency plan, one privy to himself, Sybil, and Hookworm. It was in an event just like this one, where all hope was lost, and the Argo would fall.
Found in the wreckage of the Argo was a Striker modified unlike any vehicle they had ever seen. From the outside, it looked unremarkable except a black paintjob. Within were some extremely sophisticated electronic systems. It had something called a 'Null Signature System,' a piece of lostech that made the damn thing invisible to sensors. They guarded it jealously and developed an emergency escape plan around it. They had a tunnel dug out by slaves over the years, from just under the Argo to a cave a few hundred meters out. They told everyone else that it was a future transport tunnel to hide loot. That was a lie. They had stored emergency rations, communications equipment, and enough c-bills to pay off anyone they needed to get off the rock. It was for the express purpose of fleeing an imminent loss or potential mutiny. Sybil was adept at keeping the others in line. They believed her. Knowledge from the slaves was of no issue as all had either died under the brutal working conditions or been sold off on far flung pirate holdings. It was now Ruskin's ace in the hole, his last chance if everything had gone completely sideways.
The holo-table beeped with an immediate threat. Another enemy formation had begun to attack the bridge access point in force. The engineering perimeter had collapsed and there were already troops inside despite the fatal funnel they set up. There was nothing left here now.
"All hands, this is Ruskin!" he announced over the Argo's comms, "We make 'em bleed for every last meter of the Argo! Not one step back!"
That was his last transmission. He took a breath, gathered his sidearm, put his helmet on, and ran down the corridors. Through a series of hidden panels and false walls, he found himself at his last-ditch ride. Without hesitation, he jumped in the Striker, checked the seals, and started it up. He made sure all systems were operational and hammered the pedal down the tunnel to freedom. He swore to himself that whoever did this, if they ever crossed paths again, he would have his revenge.