Chapter 3: Mercenary
April 6th, 3022
Aurigan Coalition
Coromodir System
En-route to local Jump Point,
Donavan groaned as he became conscious of the pain throughout his body. Ugh. He was… he was lying down in a small, cramped bunk he didn't recognize. A man sat next to him on the edge of the bunk, a 'Mech jockey jacket draped casually over a dark shirt.
"Easy there, you took a nasty crack on the head when you punched out. Don't worry, you're safe now."
Donavan cautiously put a hand on his aching head. "I… what… what happened? Who are you?"
"My name is Darius Oliveira, and I'm the executive officer of Markham's Marauders. We're a mercenary outfit with ties to House Arano. We did some work of High Lord Tamati way back when. I'd introduce you to Commander Markham but, well, he was on a supply run in the Market District when the bombs fell. He… he didn't make it."
Donavan pulled himself partly upright as his head started to feel better. He looked down at a tug on his arm and noticed an IV, no doubt feeding him painkillers. Still, his head felt a little clearer now, and he tried to pull himself together.
"You rescued me… why?"
Darius shrugged. "Seemed appropriate, given the circumstances. With all the security measures for the coronation, our 'Mechs weren't close enough to get into the fight, and seeing what happened to Markham, we wanted to help however we could. Still, it was all we could do to keep you from falling into the hands of this new 'Directorate.' When we picked up the emergency signal from your ejector seat, we knew what we had to do."
The memory of that last fight abruptly crashed home. "What about Mastiff, Sir Raju Montgomery—did you find him?"
Darius sighed. "We found what was left of his 'Mech. It was completely cored out… for what it's worth, I'm sorry. We supported his Royal Guard on a handful of deployments, and Sir Raju earned my respect many times over. His death is a loss for us as well."
Damn. It wasn't unexpected, not in a situation like that, but to hear it, to have to accept it… "Were you able to recover my Blackjack?"
Darius nodded. "Yeah, there's at least a little good news I can give you. Our 'Mech Tech, Yang, hauled what's left of it into the 'Mech Bay of our Leopard. It isn't pretty, but if you give him enough time Yang can fix almost anything. Oh, he also said that your 'Mech shows signs of deliberate sabotage. Whoever worked on it really did a number on the reactor. Punching out was the right move."
Donavan nodded slowly. At least the Blackjack was recoverable. Without a 'Mech… he had no idea what he would do. "Okay, so what happens now? From what you said, it sounds like we're on a Leopard?"
"Well, things aren't looking so good around here, what with the coup and all. House Espinosa's Directorate is the new de facto government of the Aurigan Reach." He hesitated a moment. "I'm … sorry to have to tell you this, but Lady Arano is dead. Her DropShip was destroyed on takeoff. It's been all over the news."
"But how? Sir Raju…" he sighed. How didn't really matter anymore. "Well… shit."
"Our sentiments exactly. Like you guessed, we're getting the hell out of the Aurigan territory—I've already booked transport on the first JumpShip out of the system. We're headed to a nice quiet stretch of independent space all the way on the other side of the Frontier on the Magistracy of Canopus border. Not a cheap trip, but we'll worry about how we're going to pay for it later."
Darius smiled as Donavan waited. "Aaaand that brings us to you. You've got options, which is something. According to your blood chit you're from out that way. Got any family?"
"Not anymore. And the Magistracy and I have a … history."
The mercenary shrugged. "In that case, you could stay with us for the trip. When we get where we're going, we can drop you at the nearest planet. Maybe you can make a fresh start there… of course, I'll need you to pitch in your fair share of the fuel, plus food, lodging, and repairs on your 'Mech. Fair's fair, after all."
Donavan winced. "And if I didn't have that sort of money on hand, I'm assuming you'd be willing to consider an alternative arrangement?"
Darius leaned back. "I thought it might be like that. So yeah, here's what I'm offering. You can stick with us, joining Markham's Marauders. I'll drop the interest on your debt to us out of respect to Mastiff, who always did right by us. If he wanted you around, then you must have the chops, so I expect you to pay off that debt quickly, and if things go well you can stay with us for the long haul. Think it over, sleep on it. You've had a hell of a last couple days, and those painkillers are helping, but you're a long way from recovering and we've got a long road ahead."
He clapped Donavan on the shoulder and climbed to his feet.
Donavan eased himself back down on the bunk. However Darius wanted to put it, there wasn't really an option. Still… if they'd really wanted to, they could just space him and take the Blackjack, so an offer to let him sign on showed both generosity and maybe a touch of desperation. But the man was certainly right about one thing—assuming he didn't get himself killed, they had a long road ahead of them.
April 6th, 3025
Unclaimed Space
Ur Cruinne System
Three years.
It was hard to believe it had been three years since he'd joined Markham's Marauders. In some ways, the political landscape had shifted dramatically. The Third Succession War was over, in fact if not formally, as the fighting had burned down to minor raids. But in others, nothing had changed at all. The Inner Sphere was still completely absorbed in its own problems, only messing with the Periphery when they were irritating enough to get their attention for a moment.
And he was still in the back end of beyond and down on his luck.
In Donavan's considered opinion, the planet Ur Cruinne was the armpit of the system, which was saying something as the system was named after it. Most of the planet was a frozen wasteland so in hospitable and empty it had never been settled. The planet's single feature, if you could call it that, were geothermal vents that created small temperate zones where small groups of hardy and at least moderately crazy inhabitants mined the planet's handful of minerals.
Some group of jumped-up miners was claiming another group's spot, and the locals had come up with enough C-Bills to hire the Marauders. Darius was really scraping the bottom of the barrel here. Still, it was hard to blame the guy. From what he gathered the Marauders had already been in rebuilding mode before they'd had to flee the system. House Arano had hired them to support the Arano Royal Guard in a campaign of Fjaldr to take out a pirate clan. It had been a calculated move as Fjaldr was right on the border with the Capellan Federation. The idea was to show the Capellans that messing with the Aurigans was more trouble than it was worth. That meant that smashing the pirates was more about accomplishing the objective than cost-effectiveness, and it had gotten ugly. The Aurigan's and Marauders had descended from the ice-encrusted surface down into kilometer-wide mining shafts in pursuit of the pirates. Away from the cold surface, the pirates had favored heavy flamers. It didn't take long to discover that even 'Mech armor could turn brittle if you transitioned from ice-cold to boiling hot temperatures fast enough, and the pirates weren't big on holding back. If they locked down a 'Mech by overheating the engine they just kept right on flaming, and most of the dead had to be hosed out of their cockpits.
The Marauders had been well-paid for it, but they'd lost over a dozen pilots, and it would have been worse had Sir Raju not gone out of his way to bail them out on more than one occasion. Then, when they should have been hiring new pilots with all the hard-earned C-Bills, they'd had to burn it all to get out of the system in a hurry in the wake of the coup. They'd only managed to pick up one pilot, Mohammed Benitez, callsign Medusa, who piloted a Locust light 'Mech that was currently down for repairs. Startlingly, Medusa and Donavan were now the most senior pilots left after three years of attrition, retirement, and turnover.
He mulled it over for the umpteenth time and looked out through the cockpit of the Blackjack and across the cramped 'Mech Bay at the Vindicator across the way. The 'Mechs were so closely packed in the cramped Leopard DropShip he could make out Glitch behind the controls, or Jessica Chernovksaya on formal occasions. He had to chuckle darkly at her callsign; if anyone represented the sort of tough breaks Markham's Marauders had been on the receiving end of, it was Glitch. She'd been a perfectly happy, perfectly average middle-class girl in the heartland of the Federated Suns until a garbled bio-scan put her in a max-security prison for a decade. Her name was eventually cleared, but there was no getting back the person she'd been, and getting out at thirty-three with no degree and only the skills she'd picked up inside, well, suffice it to say her path to becoming a MechWarrior wasn't entirely legal. And she was the nicest person on the ship.
Donavan sighed and leaned back in the command chair as the ready light shifted to yellow, signaling the start of their final approach. He couldn't distract himself from his thoughts any longer—he was coming to the conclusion that Darius just wasn't cut out to be a mercenary commander. He was a great XO but, well, ever since Markham had died on Coromodir his self-confidence was gone, constantly doubting himself. The problem was, who did that leave but Donavan? He and Medusa were the most senior pilots, but Medusa wasn't a noble. That didn't make much of a difference inside the cockpit, but it could matter outside of it. In some places, it mattered a great deal. He didn't really want the job, not with the shape the company was in now, but if someone didn't do something, the whole thing might fold.
He put the oft-repeated thoughts on hold as the ready lights started blinking yellow. Thirty seconds out. With a wheeze the Leopard eased down onto its landing struts and Donavan set the 'Mech into motion.
Amir Kowalski, also known as Dekker (though he'd never explained where the callsign had come from) was first out in his light SDR-5V Spider, scouting out the immediate area while the others piled out behind him, doing their best not to run into each other in the cramped confines. Leopards were really meant to serve as dedicated 'Mech Carriers, not completely unsupported mobile bases.
Next out was Miranda Aguilera, a.k.a. Behemoth, and she'd never needed to explain where the name came from. She was tall, fair-haired, and built like a battle tank, with the attitude to match. All Donavan knew for sure about her was that she'd started out in the Lyran Commonwealth and that she was solid in her SHD-2H Shadow Hawk. And with the heaviest 'Mech still with Marauders, nobody was asking too many questions. Still, with no noble ties he could find, Donavan rather suspected she'd acquired the Shadow Hawk through extra-legal means.
Glitch was next in the Vindicator and Donavan brought up the rear in the Blackjack. Between them they had three medium 'Mechs, one light 'Mech, one spare pilot, one spare Locust, and just enough weapons to keep the 'Mechs armed. Anyone taking a look from the outside would see a mercenary company either on its way up to company strength around a core of mediums, or on its way out, with nothing else.
Sumire Meyer, longtime pilot and navigator, got the Leopard out of there briskly, kicking up a small mountain of dust in the bone-dry, painfully brown surroundings. They stood just outside the small base of the Independent Prospectors League, which consisted of a handful of prefabricated buildings, a command center, and attached landing pad. Apparently, Sumire hadn't trusted the landing pad enough to make use of it. Rounding out the base were four light turrets, one at each corner.
How much are we getting paid for this?
The comms board lit up with an incoming message from the base. "The IPL thanks you for your assistance, mercenaries. We're miners, not soldiers—we can't fight these claim-jumpers on our own."
Darius responded from the Leopard. "That's what you're paying us for. Don't worry, we'll get your platforms back."
"This isn't just about reclaiming what's ours. Majesty Metals killed hundreds of us when they tried to jump our claim. We want you to make them bleed for what they've done here."
The miner dropped off the channel and Darius continued addressing the team. "Alright people, as we talked about in the briefing, the op-for is holding two of the IPL's mining platforms. Target Alpha is where they're keeping their turret generator. Move in fast and take it out—those turrets hit hard, so you'll want to neutralize them ASAP. Target Bravo is the op-for's corporate security tower. With the turrets down, engage and destroy it, taking out any last defenses. Then circle back and we'll collect our pay."
Donavan repressed a sign and spoke up. "Alright lance, let's move. Dekker, move up the road and let us know when you make contact. The rest of us will follow up the road, but stay loose. Looks like there's a lot of rock outcrops that could make good ambush spots."
"Affirmative, Wolf" replied Dekker coolly as he moved off.
Donavan snorted. When he first joined, he hadn't been used to working in a team, as he'd been the lone BattleMech on his home planet. He'd had a pronounced tendency to go it alone, and he'd immediately been labeled the 'Lone Wolf' until the team had knocked some sense into him. For better or worse the name had stuck, though it was usually just Wolf now.
The rest of the lance moved out in Dekker's wake, 'Mech feet kicking up dust with every step. After ten minutes Dekker's voice came back. "Contact. Two light 'Mechs on the road at a little cul-de-sac, two light turrets overlooking them, though they're right on top of their power generator. They're behind a turn in the road, though, so no line-of-sight until we're right on top of them if they hold position."
"Copy." Donavan thought it through quietly, taking in the sensor data from the Spider. Light turrets weren't all that much more armored than a light tank, just enough to survive a stray shot, but they tended to pack fairly heavy firepower, relying more on getting a strong alpha strike or two off before they got wrecked than armoring them up enough to hope for consistent damage. Still, that was their philosophy when dealing with medium 'Mechs - they could chew through Dekker's light Spider quickly. And combine that with two light 'Mechs, and that was some respectable firepower.
"Dekker, on my mark, swing out across the pass to draw their fire and get firing solutions on the turret generator. Behemoth, hit it with the LRM's. Glitch, once you have lock, hit the jump jets and get on top of the ridge. That should give you a clear LOS to hit the generator with your LRM's and the PPC. Once the generator is down, I'll swing out with Behemoth to engage the lights. Glitch and Dekker, once they've engaged us, get behind them if you get the chance and burn them down. Confirm."
The others quickly acknowledged. "Dekker, hit it."
The Spider launched itself forward, Pitban 240 engine roaring as the thirty-ton 'Mech raced out at almost 130 kph.
A pre-recorded message started transmitting in the clear, which Donavan ignored, concentrating instead on the sensor data from the Spider.
::You are trespassing on Majesty Metals and Manufacturing property, and acting in collusion with a domestic terrorist organization. Cease your advance immediately or you will be fired upon.::
Okay, two light sniper turrets, each housing four AC/2's. Those would punch through their armor with worrying ease. As for the lights, they were two Wasps, which was good news—they were meant more as training units than combat units, though the messy state of the galaxy meant you saw a lot of them in combat.
"Glitch, Behemoth, hit it." LRM's launched skyward, followed almost immediately by Glitch's Vindicator on its jump jets. She settled down on the ridgeline, in range of both turrets, and opened up with her PPC in a huge flash of light. The turrets snapped back from tracking Dekker to aim up at the new threat, but the particle projector cannon did good work—the mammoth energy ball blew through the generator system, already mangled by the LRM's, and fried it.
That was his cue.
Wolf stepped out around the ridge and opened up on the nearest Wasp with everything he had. Two of his four lasers cut into the light 'Mech's armor, and both AC/2's landed, punching through to damage superstructure on its left side.
The corporate 'Mechs didn't show good fire discipline and scattering their fire, with the more distant Wasp shooting up at Glitch on the ridgeline, scoring a grazing hit, and the closer aiming at Wolf. Still, that was enough pain to be getting on with, and he grunted as he was thrown back bodily against his restraints as the Wasp's SRMs hit dangerously close to the cockpit. His armor held, but a chunk of ablative material shredded and dropped off the Blackjack leaving him feeling exposed.
He kept the Blackjack moving, sliding left along the road to let Behemoth's Shadow Hawk come out alongside him. They both opened up on the Wasp, with Wolf keeping an eye on his heat readings. The four medium lasers gave him punch, but they were heating things up considerably. Behemoth's AC/5 tore into the light 'Mech, which staggered as a secondary explosion rocked it. The SRM ammo?
Whatever it was, they took advantage of the hesitation the explosion caused and poured fire into the torso until something broke through to the fusion engine, which shut down, putting the Wasp down for good. He let out the breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding and looked at the sensor board. Glitch and Dekker had cored the other Wasp, Dekker blowing through the negligible rear armor on the light 'Mech that had desperately tried to knock out Glitch's powerful PPC. It looked like the PPC was still working, though the arm had some significant scarring from the Wasp's laser.
"Nice job lance. Form up, we're heading to Target Bravo. Back down the road, hang a right down the hill. They might be able to scramble something before we get there, so Dekker move out and get me eyes."
"Copy."
The team eased into cruising speed and Wolf quickly took stock of their damage. The Blackjack's armor was a little torn up but hanging in there. The Vindicator's arm was damaged, but otherwise intact. The Shadow Hawk had taken a couple of SRM's, but was fine, and the Spider was completely untouched. Not too expensive. Yet.
"Wolf, Dekker. I've got contact. Two light tanks and a 'Mech, reading about fifty tons."
Donavan swore. He had no doubt they could take a lone medium 'Mech, but the odds of doing it without getting significantly damaged had just dropped a lot, and they weren't exactly swimming in cash at the moment. And what the hell were these miners doing with three BattleMechs?
Okay, think. The corp-sec tower was in a low basin with yet another ridge running along the right side while the road led down towards the tower itself. He could work with that.
"Here's the plan. Behemoth, you take the road and engage the 'Mech. Sensors are pegging it as another Shadow Hawk. And keep your distance from those tanks - they look like scorpion tanks with AC/5s. Glitch, you and I are on the ridgeline. Focus on the torso nearest us, that should have the Shadow Hawk's AC/5 and ammo. Dekker, swing around left and jump down into the basin; see if you can find some tanks to step on."
Behemoth was already in position at the top of the road, raining down fire on the enemy Shadow Hawk. Wolf followed Glitch along the ridgeline, angling his torso to catch sight of the 'Mech awkwardly caught halfway up the road. He could see the enemy pilot hesitating, unwilling to charge through crossfire into three opposing 'Mechs, but also unwilling to turn his back and expose the thinner rear armor. And in the sweltering heat of this miserable hotspot, firing the jump jets would limit his ability to shoot. The hesitation didn't last long as the pilot started backing down the road, firing as he went, but that hesitation cost him badly.
Wolf and Glitch got into position above him on the ridge before he got off the road, and they unloaded down into the 'Mech's left side. The 'Mech staggered under the fire, and they were rewarded with the sight of the AC/5's barrel shearing off from a lucky laser hit. Wolf breathed a sigh of relief at the sight of that 80mm beast gone—it was far from the most powerful weapon out there, but it was enough to ruin any medium 'Mech's day.
With its main weapon knocked out, the Shadow Hawk lost its nerve and turned to run, firing off its jump jets. Wolf squeezed off a round each from his AC/2's, one of which crunched into the 'Mech's leg, while the other careened off armor plating. Behemoth had better luck, as her LRM's caught the 'Mech in the back mid-flight. One of the missiles detonated on the left torso's jump jet, shorting it out and unbalancing the powerful machine, turning it into a 55-ton flying brick as the pilot wasn't able to compensate in time. The Shadow Hawk hit the ground with such force it ruptured the fusion engine, completely neutralizing the 'Mech.
"Nice shot Behemoth. Dekker, how's it going?"
"Both tanks are down, lead. They got a lucky hit in, though, and the autocannon took out my left arm."
Wolf winced. That was going to cost them. "Alright lance, no other hostiles on sensors. Behemoth, you popped the Shadow Hawk, you get to do the honors. That tall building there matches the profile of the corp-sec tower. Knock it down and let's head back."
Behemoth didn't waste ammunition, instead electing to hose down the tower with laser fire. After a few good hits the building lost integrity and collapsed on itself. The lance formed up once again, easing back into cruising speed to let their heat levels settle as they returned down the dusty road. The comms lit up again.
"Brilliant work, mercenaries. We should have no trouble mopping up at the other platforms now that their defenses are down."
"We got the job done," answered Darius from the Leopard far above. "Speaking of which—"
"I wasn't finished. These platforms won't do us much good if we can't hold them—Majesty Metals taught us that. So we're going to need your BattleMechs."
Wolf thudded his head back against the headrest. Those morons. Even if they had the faintest idea of how to pilot a BattleMech, which he sincerely doubted, there was nowhere in this podunk outpost to service and repair a 'Mech! Even if they had 'Mechs, they'd be wrecks within months! And that wasn't even mentioning what the Mercenary Review Board would do to them when it found out they'd backstabbed someone on a Board-hosted job!
Darius sighed. "You clearly haven't thought this through, so I'm going to give you one chance to reconsider that."
Wolf flipped back to the lance tactical net and scanned the base. No signs of hostile units aside from the turrets. He tapped the controls, sending targeting updates on the generator to the lance. If this went sideways, he wanted that thing dead immediately.
"Why? Your lance has already been target-locked by our turrets. Now, power down and surrender, and we'll let you—"
"Fire," ordered Wolf.
A flurry of autocannon and lasers cratered the turret generator, leaving the turrets as no better than expensive paperweights.
"Lead, I have vehicles incoming, all lightweight and spread out."
Wolf trusted in the Spider's more advanced sensor systems. "Spread out and engage, don't let them support each other." The 'Mechs each moved out independently towards the nearest vehicle signature, weapons roaring, and Wolf shook his head in disgust even as his AC/2 rounds tore through a light scorpion. Going one-on-one against a medium 'Mech in anything short of a heavy vehicle was tantamount to suicide. The whole point of using combat vehicles was to mount 'Mech-rated weapons on as many chassis as possible at the same price. But this…
Two more explosions threw up clouds of dust under the glaring sun, and there were no more hostile sensor readings. It seemed their genius employer had been in one of the light tanks, because he sure wasn't talking anymore.
"Lance, this is Sumire, stand by for extraction—let's get the hell out of here. Oh, and Darius?"
"I know, I know. You want another team meeting."
The pilot chuckled darkly. "Give the man a prize."
The lance gathered as the Leopard gracefully descended from the sky, another testament to Sumire's talents, while Darius opened a private comms channel to him. "Nice job down there—you made the best of a bad situation. Here's hoping we don't run into another job like that one."
…
Several hours later the team meeting was in full swing, meaning they'd already talked in circles at least three times. Donavan, representing the 'Mech Warriors, leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes, wishing he were somewhere else. The Leopard was a fine dropship, in service for so long that every last flaw had been ironed out or otherwise compensated for, but it was never intended for long-term deployments. Storage space was extremely limited, and personal space virtually non-existent. Take, for example, the briefing room that doubled as a lounge, then tripled as the mess, where they were currently butting heads yet again.
"Darius," spoke Sumire in a tone that didn't quite manage to conceal her exasperation, "you need to start finding us better clients. We've been slumming it on the ass-end of the Frontier for three years now, and we are drowning in debt."
Next, Darius gets defensive and says he's doing the best he can…
"Hey, I'm doing the best I… ah hell."
Donavan opened his eyes. This was different.
Darius looked around the tiny, cramped space at each of them in turn. "I just saw Donavan mouthing my excuses right along with me. I just…" He covered his face in his hands, blocking out the sight to focus on getting the words right. "This isn't working. I don't think I'm doing anything wrong, exactly, but it's pretty obvious I'm not doing enough right to get us back on track." He took a deep, steadying breath, then dropped his hands and looked up again. "I've been thinking about this for a while now. I've tried to carry things on in respect for Commander Markham, but this outfit has always been led by the senior pilot, and it's time for a fresh start. E…ahem," he cleared his throat as his voice broke. "Effective immediately, I'm stepping down as Commander of Markham's Marauders and turning command over to you, Commander Donavan."
Donavan stared at Darius for a long moment, then at each of the others. Yang Virtanen, the chief 'MechTech in his orange jumpsuit, gave him a reassuring smile. Sumire Meyer gave him an appraising look, then nodded.
Inside he was a mess of feelings. The idea of leading a mercenary outfit after fighting for only three years was ludicrous, on the face of it. On the other hand, he'd been leading the lance for a while now without too much trouble, and he'd been watching Darius struggle as Commander for just as long. The choice was pretty simple though—either take the reins and try to save this thing, or let it come apart and go it completely alone. And that choice made itself, which meant he had no choice at all.
"Alright, I'll do it." Everyone just kept looking at him, so he leaned forward, an unexpected thrill of excitement shooting through him, tempered by the knowledge that it could all go under almost immediately. "What we need is a fresh start, looking at every issue from new angles. Give me a day or two and we'll have a new name and colors. So, let's talk. Darius, give me the quick and dirty version of our finances again."
"You got it, Commander." Maybe if he said it enough times it would start sounding natural. "Sumire's right, we're deep in the hole. Every C-bill we make technically belongs to the bank. The problem on my end is that this corner of the frontier is a dead zone for mercenary work. There are clients, but they're terrible."
"Okay, let's talk figures. Give me the total numbers and the monthly interest rate."
"Well, the Leopard was roughly 170 million, now paid down to 164, give or take, and you add in fuel, medical supplies, ammunition, and—"
"I get it, we're not getting out soon. So, what's the magic number to hit to start inching towards daylight?"
Darius hesitated a moment, then shrugged. "Maintenance costs, fuel, supplies, ammunition, and the minimum loan payments will be… say one hundred thousand c-bills a month to stay alive but still sinking, a hundred and fifty thousand a month to tread water, and two hundred to make progress. Very, very slow progress, but progress. The thing is, these banks, and I use that term loosely, they don't want us to pay off the loans. They'll do whatever they can get away with to keep us on the hook—hit us with penalties, jack up the interest rates, 'misfile' our paperwork. It's a mess."
Sumire interjected dolefully. "And every day that passes, we accumulate more debt. If we keep going like we have been, we're screwed. We've hit a hundred and fifty thousand only on good months."
Donavan nodded. "I get it. So, what are our options? Increase contracts per month?"
"I don't see what else we can do." Darius held out his hands placatingly. "I'm already serving up every legitimate contract I can. Unless you want me to sidestep the Mercenary Review Board entirely, we're basically out of options."
The new commander winced. Sidestepping the MRB could have… dire consequences, and nobody wanted to tick off their overseers in ComStar, the gatekeeper of all FTL communication.
Yang shuddered. "Go around the MRB? No thanks. Taking on uncertified jobs is a great way to wind up with a knife in your back."
Donavan nodded in agreement. "We're already running a lot of risks out here. We'll only go there if we have to."
"Amen to that, chief. Remind me again why we don't just skip town and head to a nicer corner of the Periphery?"
"Because," explained Sumire, "the banks and the JumpShip crews have an arrangement. Until we pay up, they're gonna keep us on a short leash."
Donavan blinked in surprise; that was new to him. And it changed things. They needed contracts to live, and if they couldn't travel to get them, well, then they had to find them here. And if they weren't on the MRB list, well… then they'd have to look elsewhere. It was as simple as that.
"What this boils down to is that we need contracts. If we can't move, we're stuck with what's local, and that's not enough. So we either close up shop, or we find other contracts. Darius, start looking for unlisted contracts."
Yang winced but didn't disagree. "Yeah, chief… guess I'd better get mentally prepared for that knife in the back, huh?"
"It's settled then, Commander, I'll start digging for contracts outside the MRB system. Who knows? Maybe it'll work out for the best. It isn't like we've got that much to lose. But in the meantime, we need to find another paying job, and our prospects in this system have completely dried up. The banks won't let us leave the sector, but we've got a couple of systems of leeway, so I recommend booking travel to a neighboring system and seeing what the Review Board has for us there. With some luck, we'll find enough to keep going until something better rolls in."
"Specifically," cut in Sumire, "we can access Alloway, Bellerophon, and Detroit."
"As you say, Sumire. Earlier today I picked out a contract that includes travel fees in the deal. The details are up in the Command Center when you're ready to have a look, Commander."
Donavan stood. "Alright team, that concludes the meeting. Darius, I'll be up with you shortly to discuss the contract. Sumire, get the details from Darius and get us moving. We need to hit our targets by the next financial review day, so no time to waste. While we're traveling, I'll stop by each of you to get a feel for what issues you're dealing with. That's all."
The team parted ways, moving with a newfound enthusiasm. Once they'd gone, Donavan slumped back down into his makeshift chair as the adrenaline and excitement wore off. This new enthusiasm was good, but brittle. They hadn't changed anything, not really. The only meaningful decision was an act of pure desperation to avoid going the way of most mercenary outfits. Shoot, at almost five years old they were already an outlier.
He'd been made the captain, but of a sinking ship. Time to start bailing.
