Chapter 4: Commander
April 6th, 3025
Unclaimed Space
Ur Cruinne System
The Command Center was an optimistic, some might even say euphemistic, name for the cramped corner of the bridge dominated by a large display table. Donavan stepped up to the table and considered the man standing beside it, Darius Oliveira. Despite being part of the command team for some time, Donavan had kept his distance from the others. But that was over now—if he was going to lead these people, he needed to know them.
"Hey Darius. You know, despite all the time we've spent together, I don't know you very well. Tell me a little about yourself."
Darius raised an eyebrow questioningly, then shrugged. "Alright. I grew up on Nassau Heights. It's one of the hab stations orbiting Artru in the Aurigan Reach. Thirty decks of economic stratification, with the corporate suits on the upper decks and everyone else crammed into the lower ones. My old man was a dockhand; we lived on Deck twenty-eight, two levels up from the bottom, with the other station maintenance personnel. Twelve hours a day, six days a week, my dad would load and unload cargo shuttles. Vacuum-sealed quiller and nutrient paste for people like us, and luxury goods for the suits upstairs."
He looked down at the board, eyes seeing something else entirely. "He must've unloaded a thousand cases of Cassildan Eel Roe—plump, succulent eggs the size of melon balls. Never got to taste any, though. Any of those tins would've cost him half a year's wages.
Darius gave himself a shake and looked up. "Anyways, Commander, I don't wanna saddle you with my life story. Suffice it to say that I got an eyeful of what I didn't want to be on Nassau Heights, and I did what I had to do to change my circumstances. By the age of sixteen I struck out on my own. I left that station with a handful of skills, an enormous web of contacts, and a rucksack full of expensive caviar. And once I made it off of Nassau Heights, I never, ever looked back."
"And how did you wind up with the Marauders?"
"Commander Markham picked me up, saw potential in me, I guess. Maybe that's why I wanted to keep the name alive for so long."
"Thanks for sharing, Darius. I appreciate it. So, let's talk a little more about our financial situation. Who, exactly, do we owe all this money too?"
"How about I give you the top three. First, you've got Blue Horizon, that's the big commercial bank on Lyreton. They're the ones that own the lease on the Leopard. Then there's the Indri Consortium. They're based in Marik space, but they've got people everywhere. We also borrowed from one of their 'associates' to make the jump away from Coromodir on the day of the coup."
Yeah, those were the kinds of people you didn't get away from. "Alright, then let's talk about how we're going to start paying it off. What's the job?"
"It's a contract from the Free Worlds League, through a lot of intermediaries. One of their operations claims to have recovered a piece of Star League Defense Force technology but before they could deliver it, they were captured by local government forces. They're hiring us to assault the location, recover the technology, and escape. Now, I'm guessing the tech is some broken piece of scrap, but the Free Worlds League is willing to pay to recover it. We go in and get out before they even know what hit them."
"Perfect. What type of resistance are we looking at?"
"Hard to say for sure, but from what I'm hearing there should be some light tanks, possibly a light 'Mech or two. Nothing you can't handle."
Donavan clapped him on the shoulder. "Good man, Darius. We'll make it work. I'm going to hit the sack; I've got a lot to think about. We'll talk more later."
April 7, 3025
Unclaimed Space
Ur Cruinne System
En-route to local jump point
The 'Mech Bay buzzed with the constant hum of activity that Donavan associated with Yang Virtanen, chief 'Mech Tech and all-around fix-it guy. As always, he took a moment on entering the Bay to just stand in awe of the monster machines around him. The Blackjack he'd had for as long as he could remember, the last remaining tie to his past, stood nearby. Around it were Behemoth's monster Shadow Hawk, Glitch's Vindicator, Medusa's Locust, and of particular note at the moment, Dekker's Spider.
The 'Mech had taken a bad hit out there, and one whole arm was missing. Once again, Donavan wondered how Dekker had gotten his hands on it. With their factories long since destroyed, there weren't many Spiders left these days, and they were highly prized. As fast as a Locust on the ground, a better jumper than the Stinger or the Wasp, and outgunning either of them with its twin medium lasers, it was a masterpiece of design and in the right hands it moved like a gymnast.
"Hey Chief, I didn't see you there! Welcome back to the 'Mech Bay. What can I do for you?"
Yang ambled over confidently, waving his most distinguishing feature, his mechanical right arm.
"Doing alright, Yang, doing alright. So, talk to me about the Spider."
Yang shrugged. "You know how hard their parts are to find anywhere, much less out here in the back end of beyond. We're using the last spares we have, plus some spares from the Vindicator for the hand itself—it won't be as good as the original, but at least it will be a workable hand."
"Good. What's the ETA on that?"
"Ah, if you want me to test it to make sure it actually works, I'll need a week or so. We're prioritizing replacing the armor on the other 'Mechs first."
Donavan nodded. That was better than he'd hoped. Once again, he'd underestimated Yang. "Great work, Yang. Now, for the big picture. I need an assessment on the Leopard; how much trouble are we in?"
"Dunno. I mean, we're doing okay for the moment, and I can usually fix things when they break, but I'm a 'MechTech, not a starship engineer."
"Fair enough." He took a slow breath and braced himself. He hated this get-to-know you stuff, but it was important. "So… like I mentioned, I'm going to try to get to know each of the command team a little better, so why don't you tell me a little about yourself. How'd you wind up with this crew?"
"That's a long story, chief. Shortest version I can give you? I signed on after I served my time in the Third Succession War, fighting for the Capellan Confederation."
"Oh? Which part of the Confederation are you from?"
"Bryant. You may have heard of our claim to fame: the Crowley Lizard Cow… No? Well, trust me, they're delicious." Yang kept talking, clearly enthusiastic about his home planet. "Anyway, as the story goes, Bryant was a really nice place once—a tourist spot, big with hikers and fishing enthusiasts. Pale blue skies, emerald-green seas, and a booming agricultural business. You know, the works."
"Really? I would've thought I'd heard about a place as nice as that."
Yang's smile turned wry. "I'm sure you would have… if it was still like that. Stefan Amaris got to it a couple centuries before I was born and, well… that was that. Bryant used to have these enormous orbital mirrors — 'storm inhibitors' they called 'em. The Star League put them in place. When Amaris took the system in his civil war, he had his troops use them as target practice. Without those mirrors, Bryant reverted to its natural state; a miserable little ball of windblown dirt, actively hostile to human life. By the time I came along, the only places where people could live in relative safety were the planet's poles. Of course, you can't fit an entire planet's population into a handful of cities at its poles—there isn't enough space, no matter how far down you dig or how tall you build. A lot of people, mostly the poor, died in the early days. There's still a lot of overcrowding in Bryant's cities even now. That's my childhood home in a nutshell—too many people jammed into a tiny, claustrophobic space, and nowhere to go but off-planet. I cleared out of there as fast as I could and never looked back. Gotta admit though, I do miss the taste of Lizard Cow."
Well that was a gut-wrenching, but a depressingly common story as the big Houses proceeded to wreck everything in sight in an effort to come out on top. "So you left Bryant. How'd you wind up as a 'Mech Tech?"
Yang waved Donavan after him and moved over to the corner of the 'Mech Bay which passed for his office, where he leaned back against a workbench. "I didn't really have anything going for me, so I joined the military. I served with the Second St. Ive's Lancers, First Battalion, under Major Ling."
Donavan let out a low whistle. The Second St. Ive's Lancers had a long, proud history. Whatever he might say, he'd obviously turned some heads with his competence to get tapped for that position.
"Hey, it was just a job, though we did see more action than most. The arm is a souvenir of my time in the service." He frowned down at the complicated machinery, flexing mechanical fingers into a fist. "I lost the original back in 3010 on St. Loris. Y'know, when we first arrived on St. Loris I loved the place. It's an agricultural world … sort of a breadbasket for the neighboring systems. Green fields, rolling hills, you get the picture. We'd just walked out of hell on Kittery—the Fed Rats drove us out in '05 with our tails between our legs, so it looked like paradise to us. I remember kicking back in the 'Mech Bay, my feet propped up on an engine block, sipping on a snifter of Ambergrist Vermouth. Not a bad way to spend a sunny afternoon. Anyway, turned out the Federated Suns weren't done with us yet. We were barely a month into our deployment when they sent the Ceti Hussars to burn us out."
He sighed and shrugged, manifestly trying to be fair. "I'm sure that there were some strategic reasons for House Davion to want St. Ives, but it sure felt personal to me. Long story short, one of their scouts managed to slip through our perimeter and hit my 'Mech Bay. I was tinkering around in a Centurion's custom-made rumble seat at the time. Being surrounded by all that armor is the only reason I made it out alive. Still, I didn't make it unscathed. I lost two of my favorite assistants and my own right arm, and I've got this ugly thing grafted onto me as a reminder. And yet, here I am, doing mercenary work for a living. Some people never learn, I guess."
"That would shake up anybody. Is that why you left?"
"After my tour of duty, you mean? No, though it was a hell of a shakeup, I'll tell you that. I dunno, it was just… time for a change. Besides, the place wasn't for me anymore. In a way, it never really was. I learned a lot from my time in the service. Got a first-hand view of the elitist bullshit that saturates Capellan culture, how it rewards highborn idiots at the common people's expense. Speaking as a thoroughly common man, that didn't sit right with me. When my tour was over I walked away and never looked back."
"Those nobles, right?" He gave Yang a lopsided grin. "And just as you get away, you find yourself with me and Sumire constantly telling you what to do."
Yang snorted. "Yeah, but you're both competent nobles, and you aren't afraid to get your hands dirty. At the end of the day, that's all I really care about. I wonder how many times I watched talented engineers get passed over for promotions so some idiot with a title could advance? Too many to count."
"Well, you're certainly keeping this noble on his feet despite my best efforts. I'm glad you're here, Yang: you've brought the Blackjack back from what I was sure would be the end a time or two."
"Way more than twice, if memory serves. Still, I appreciate the kind words. And for what it's worth, I'm happy to be here with this crew. Going career military would've been an enormous mistake."
"In your shoes, I'd probably feel the same. But it's time I head back to get some rest—we're not that far out from Bellerophon, and I need to sit down and put together a plan for how we're going to pull it off. Good talking with you."
April 13, 3025
Unclaimed Space
Bellerophon
High Orbit
The Bellerophon system boasted a single habitable system, though habitable was pushing it. They were going to set down in a rocky, canyon-filled area, with average temperatures pushing 40c and the arid atmosphere that went with it. There was limited agriculture and significant conflict over who controlled it. Most recently, the three-way struggle between some mercenaries, a group of religious fanatics, and a local militia had gone the way of the militia, so they were the planetary government now.
Bellerophon was pretty far out there in unclaimed space, roughly equidistant between the Magistracy to anti-spinward (galactic west) and the Aurigan Directorate to spinward (galactic east). While the Free Worlds League could've taken either of them if push came to shove, they weren't willing to turn their back to the other Inner Sphere powers while they did it. So with the planetary government getting its act together, the League was pulling out its assets so far from home.
The key point was that if this was a truly galaxy-shaking discovery like a Star League memory core, the League would have sent an armada; the fact that they hadn't suggested Darius was right and it was garbage. The upside: the League probably wouldn't try to wipe them out to hide the evidence. Downside: planetary governments don't like being looted, especially when they don't have much to begin with. Throw in some overconfidence from having won their little civil war, and knowing the League wouldn't be too ticked off by kicking their hired mercenaries firmly in the pants, and they were likely to make a fight out of it when they really shouldn't.
"So team, thoughts?"
Darius sighed. "Nothing has changed my mind since getting here. Everyone thinks it's junk, but the League is willing to spend a little money, though not commit their own forces, on the off-chance it's legit."
Sumire shrugged. "I have to agree. With the locals feeling tough they might try to put up a fight, but on a rock like this I'd be surprised if they could field anything other than a couple of platoons of infantry and some supporting tanks."
"That's about my read as well. Alright, let's get this done. Darius, hit the ready light. Sumire, get us down there." Donavan turned to walk to the 'Mech Bay already dressed in his battle attire of exercise shorts and Cooling Vest, which plugged into the BattleMech and circulated coolant to keep him from passing out from heatstroke in the sauna that was a 'Mech cockpit. Pair that with the bulky and stuffy neurohelment that linked him with his machine and piloting a 'Mech wasn't a particularly pleasant experience.
As he walked the alert went out, pulsing the battle stations light and sending the other pilots running to the 'Mech Bay, though he wouldn't be surprised if they were all already there. This drop wasn't exactly unplanned.
The 'Mech Bay itself was awash with activity as Yang coordinated his assistant 'MechTechs in last-minute system checks. Donavan did a quick check of his own of the surroundings and, seeing nothing amiss, grabbed hold of the ladder and clambered his way up towards the cockpit of the Blackjack and plopped himself into the command chair. He ran through the startup sequence, feeling the hum of the fusion engine powering up an alarmingly short distance away, and pulled on the bulky neurohelmet.
The heads up display blinked to life showing him the status of the Blackjack as well as the rest of the lance, each in their stall in the 'MechBay. A countdown appeared in the upper left corner of the display as Sumire fed them sensor data from the Leopard.
"Alright lance this is Wolf, comms check."
"Behemoth here." Her Shadow Hawk lit up on the HUD as she spoke.
"Glitch here." Wolf was sure she'd be raising her hand like a student in class if the cramped confines of her Vindicator permitted it.
"Medusa here." His voice was eager, excited to get back in the action in his Locust.
"Dekker on standby." If he was annoyed that his damaged Spider kept him on the sidelines, his constant professionalism hid it well.
"Alright people prepare to drop. On touchdown, secure the drop zone taking your designated sector, then we'll move from there. You know the drill."
The comms turned quiet as each pilot did whatever it was they did to mentally prepare for combat. Wolf felt himself paradoxically begin to relax. As bumpy, stuffy, and insufferably hot as a BattleMech was, being in the cockpit of his Blackjack was as close to home as he had left. This was where he belonged.
The timer ticked down to zero just as the DropShip touched down and the 'MechBay doors slid open. "Deploy." Wolf moved quickly out the door, sensors probing for threats as the rest of the lance moved out behind him, covering his flanks. It was unlikely anyone would try to take down the heavily armed DropShip without more firepower than existed on the whole of this backwater planet, but you never knew.
The lance made it out quickly, each covering a separate field of fire. As Glitch cleared the ship he keyed the comms. "Leopard, Wolf, you're clear."
"Got it Wolf, we're heading out now. Good hunting." Sumire pulled away with the DropShip, leaving the lance in a cloud of brown dust. This really was an ugly pile of dirt.
"Alright lance, nothing on screens yet. Move on the target, standard formation."
They fell into their positions with easy familiarity, Medusa scouting ahead with the Locust while the others fanned out behind him. They moved forward at a sustainable lope, eating up distance but not straining the 'Mechs too hard, and they closed in quickly on the site.
"Boss, I have 'em on sensors. Picking up some other stuff too, mostly tanks, maybe a couple 'Mechs, really light."
Wolf frowned. The 'Mechs were unexpected, but at least they were lights. He considered the terrain quickly. The target site itself was down in a narrow divide, a cleft between two large plateaus. They were making their way up the divide, and the sensor readings passed on from Medusa were coming from up on top, ideally situated to fire down on them as they made their approach.
"Acknowledged. Fall back and swing out right with me. Behemoth, you and Glitch swing left. Get up on that plateaus and we'll get a better look at them, then smash them between us."
The lance split two and two, each heading out away from each other, and Wolf took one last moment to consider again. Splitting up was risky when you weren't very confident in what you were facing, but they were also in the middle of nowhere—he'd be stunned if this was some big ambush. No, the biggest danger was allowing all those tanks to concentrate their fire on a single 'Mech. Best to split them up and rely on their individual unit superiority. If they got in trouble, well, most of the lance had jump jets to get back down the canyon, and the tanks didn't.
He refocused on his immediate surroundings and saw they were almost in position—he'd relied on Medusa to pick them a path upwards, and the occasionally over-eager man hadn't let him down.
"Lance, I'm seeing some Galleons and… got those 'Mechs, a pair of Locust 1V's. I'd guess those anti-personnel weapons were helpful in their little shindig, but they're not going to do much here. Focus on the tanks, outside to inside, and I bet the Locusts make a break for it—there's no way they could replace them out here. Medusa, stay tucked in behind me. Lance, move in."
The lance clicked their mics in acknowledgement and made their approach. Wolf squeezed the trigger sending AC/2 rounds downrange and worked his way along the line of tanks methodically, which were only just now starting to reposition, putting a pair of rounds in each. Medusa followed up, finishing off any tanks in his wake still showing signs of life with his twin machine guns and single medium laser.
Scattered fire started to come in, but it was undisciplined, mostly panic fire that only occasionally pinged against his armor. With their outer lines crumbling the Locusts let off a blast or two each from their underslung single medium laser, hitting nothing in particular, and took off running at a blistering pace of just under 100 kph; the lance had no chance of catching up. The remaining tanks, seeing the Locusts abandon them, lost all unit cohesion and scattered.
"Lance, hold fire: let them go. These folks have a tough enough time as it is. No sense in killing any more of them than we have to."
"You sure boss? Those Locusts were junk, I could overhaul them easily."
Wolf frowned at Medusa's voice. "Yeah, and get mowed down two on one. Take it easy, Medusa. The target's just over that crest there to the left, I need you to take a peek and see what we've got."
"On it."
Wolf shook his head. Maybe it was that he was in charge of paying the repair costs now, but the idea of chasing after enemies to fight while outnumbered two to one just didn't have the sort of appeal for him that it evidently did for Medusa. He sighed and kept his eyes on the scanners as the Locust moved in with at least moderate caution, which was Medusa's equivalent of tiptoeing in silently. The facility itself was fairly small and the Locust quickly traversed it, going beyond Wolf's line of sight.
A few moments later Medusa spoke again. "I've got it. A handful of folks calling themselves 'unaffiliated' with one piece of space junk."
There was no changing Medusa. "Alright lance, spread out and cover the area. Medusa, stay with the target. Leopard, we're ready for pickup."
