"I'll let you in on a little secret; when mercs fight, it's never 'just business.'" - Captain Colm MacLeod, Northwind Highlanders MechWarrior

Galaport, Galatea, Lyran Commonwealth

8th October, 2965

Cian walked into the rec room aboard the Bardiche. With the ship landed and most of the crew on shore leave, the entire vessel was quiet. The normally lively rec room had only a single occupant. This was convenient, for that occupant was who Cian sought.

The Bardiche didn't have the space to justify a full set of workout equipment. The crew had to make do with a couple of adjustable benches and free weights. Running laps in the cargo hold was the best they could do for cardio. Cian didn't mind. It was more than enough, if one got a little creative.

Inaya was facing away from him, doing shoulder presses. The cropped tank top she wore showed off the muscles clenching and relaxing in sequence in her back and arms. Elaborate tattoos covered much of Inaya's back and most of both arms. Cian, for a few moments, forgot why he was there.

"Hey, Chief." Cian said to get her attention. It was something of a hybrid nickname/honorific her Assistant Techs and many other members of the crew called Inaya. Cian had just picked it up along the way.

Inaya didn't respond. She set her weights down with a long breath, then rested her elbows on her knees; the universal "zoning out between sets" pose. Cian realized she had wireless headphones in her ears. The green dye in her hair had been replaced by a fiery red-orange. Not wanting to startle the Head MechTech, Cian skirted the edge of the room.

The rec room had a couple of circular tables surrounded by seats bolted to the floor. The top of one of the tables could be removed to reveal a holo-projector. There was also a dartboard on one wall, beside which was a chalkboard listing the number of wins of various crew members. Finally, there were a few fake leather chairs and couches gathered in a square for general lazing about. The walls didn't have the same mural treatment as the hallways of the Bardiche, instead being plastered with dozens of posters advertising pay-per-view special events in the 'Mech arenas of Solaris VIII. Cian had been in the rec room to watch just such a fight on the holo-table just a couple of weeks back with half the crew. It wasn't much, but Cian knew from long years of experience how much the simple designation of "this is where you relax" could do for a mind weary from a long campaign.

The weights were against the wall furthest from the door leading into the rec room, the benches set to face them. Cian shuffled along until he was within Inaya's field of view. The MechTech's eyes flicked toward him, then her head fully turned as she realized he was there. She pulled the headphones out of her ears, plastic hooks still holding them up, and paused what she was listening to.

"Strider. I didn't take your bench, did I?" Inaya joked.

Cian laughed. "No, you didn't. You're probably already aware, but a bunch of us are heading out to…can't remember the name of the bar, but Zahir keeps swearing by it. Didn't want you to get left out if you wanted to go."

"Oh. Well, not gonna lie, I really don't like that whole…going out thing." Inaya vaguely waved a hand in the air. "Just, like…going out to a bar just for…the sake of it? I dunno how to explain it, I just…" She sounded a little defensive. This was likely not the first time she'd given this explanation.

Cian held up a hand. "You don't have to explain it, Chief. I just wanted to make sure you knew you were invited. Doesn't mean you have to go. It's alright."

An awkward look crossed Inaya's face, some mixture of guilt and relief. "Fish used to try to drag me out places all the time. I gave it a try, but I always felt so…out of place. Exposed, maybe? Like everyone was watching me and I had to act exactly right. Of course, they weren't watching me. All eyes were always on Fish." There was no resentment or envy in that last sentence that Cian could detect. If anything, he just heard more relief.

"Really? No eyes on you at all? I find that hard to believe." Cian said before he really thought about the words.

Silence followed. Inaya gave Cian a probing look, like she was trying to figure out if he was making fun of her. Cian cleared his throat.

"Well…I can't say 'none.' But then nobody where Fish took me to ever wanted to talk about Steel Spike's new album or whether or not 'Lord of the 'Mechs' is a faithful adaptation of Tolkien's work…it's not, by the way." Inaya shrugged. "And, like, that's fine and all. I just…don't give a shit about all the annoying small talk. Anyway, Fish eventually figured it out and let me off the hook."

"Why didn't you just tell her it wasn't for you?" Cian asked.

"You haven't known her for long enough. Fish has this way of talking. She always sounds like she knows what's best. And the worst part is I can't even say she forces anyone to do anything. She just…hm…she's good at advertising." Inaya snickered at her own joke. "Anyhow, all that to say I appreciate you inviting me, but I'm going to pass."

"Fair enough." Cian said. He was about to walk away, but he couldn't help but ask, "what do you like to do when we're on world and you're not stuck in the MechBay?" He knew El Cid had been the main reason she'd been stuck there since Iota.

"Why do you ask?" Inaya queried with a raised eyebrow.

"So maybe next time it'll be something you'll want to join in on." Cian said.

Inaya smirked. "No offense, but something tells me everybody's not going to want to go look through a salvage shop or a used book store."

"True for the others, maybe. I used to love a good bookstore. Haven't been to an actual one in years, though. Not since…." Cian trailed off. No need to bring Inaya down by talking about Sherbrooke. "Well, anyway, I'll quit bugging you. See you later, Chief."

"See you, around." Inaya said as he left, sounding thoughtful. Cian was almost to the door when she stopped him with, "hey. Strider."

The Lieutenant paused, looking back her way.

"Uhm. So. I was planning on book shopping tomorrow." Inaya said.

A few seconds passed.

"Alright…", Cian said slowly.

They stared at each other for a few more seconds.

"If you wanted to come with, I mean. Since it's been so long for you. We come to Galatea a lot. Pretty much every merc outfit does, so I've got a few favorite places here?" Inaya elaborated, ending in an upward inflection as she realized she was starting to ramble.

Oh. Right. Duh.

"That sounds good, actually. Yeah. Let's do that." Cian said.

Inaya actually looked surprised by his affirmative. "Cool." She tilted her head to one side. "After lunch, then?"

"I'll plan on it." Cian assured her.

"Great. Good." Inaya said. She cleared her throat, said, "right", then put her headphones back in, returning to her workout.

Himself surprised at the turn the conversation had taken, Cian departed the rec room to go meet with the rest of his Lance, a few other members of Jotunn Company, and a half-dozen members of the Bardiche's crew from across the ship.

Galatea was known as the Mercenary's Star for good reason. It was the where the home offices of ComStar's Mercenary Review Board were based. Already having a monopoly on interstellar communication, ComStar had also secured a huge slice of the mercenary trade. Merc companies advertised themselves on the MRB with up-to-date service records. Employers used the MRB to scout out potential mercs that met their needs. Once that connection was made, negotiations for C-Bill payments, salvage rights, and other considerations would begin. If said negotiations weren't done over long-distance communication via ComStar's Hyper-Pulse Generators, both prospective employers and mercenaries could meet at the strictly enforced neutral grounds that were MRB Hiring Halls.

All this meant that Galatea, at any given time, was the temporary home of thousands of mercenaries looking to blow off steam while also hoping to set up their next gig. While the southern hemisphere wasn't particularly well developed, the north was home to a string of urban sprawls. The spaceport at Galaport and the capital at Galatea City were especially set up to cater to every vice a merc flush with C-Bills might have just been waiting for weeks aboard ship to finally get to indulge in. Of course, a planet full of people that likely have tried to kill each other in the past is just asking for trouble, thus a strict "no weapons" policy was in place in Galatea's urban centers.

"Yaya roped you into book shopping?" Vishali exclaimed as they waited in line at one of Galaport's security checkpoints. The line was moving quickly through a wide row of scanners in a low-ceilinged hallway that was already bright with advertisements.

"Yeah? Is that weird?" Cian asked.

"Not at all. I'm just glad she's not going alone for once." Vishali replied.

"Couldn't you have gone with her?" Cian asked further.

Vishali huffed a soft laugh. "I did, since she was such a good sport coming out with us a few times. We both figured out pretty quickly that we still have different definitions of fun, just like when we were kids. And, Yaya spends so much time with her AsTechs swarming around her in the MechBay, I think she needs her solitude."

Cian nodded. Though that begged the question; why would Inaya invite him to join her if she needed solitude? He hoped he wasn't intruding. Then again, the invitation had been her idea, so how could it be intruding?

"I think our new Lancemate's mind has followed Kerensky." Zahir joked behind him.

"Hm?" Cian grunted, then rattled his head a little, bringing himself back to the present.

Vishali and Zahir laughed.

They made it through the security checkpoint without incident, into the light-bedecked vista that was Galaport. Every city Cian had ever been to was heavy with signage and advertisement, but here the towering skyscrapers were positively drenched in neon and LEDs. Everything from 'Mech parts to nightclubs was put on offer for palates discerning and otherwise.

"Ever been here before?" Zahir asked Cian as they boarded one of the countless buses that waited just beyond the checkpoint.

"No. This is my first time in Lyran space with…peaceful intentions." Cian said. The FWLM was hesitant to attack a place that had so many soldiers for hire immediately on hand, even though Galatea was close to the Commonwealth/League border.

"Oh. Right. Good point." Zahir said.

The bus took them across town to an area colloquially called Sellsword's Alley, which in spite of the name, was apparently the best at catering to mercs. Cian wasn't sure how one bar could be better than another at serving mercs specifically, but maybe it was just one of the ephemeral things.

Sellsword's Alley was a sea of color, not just from the adverts, but also thanks to the fact that everyone seemed to be clad in the hues of the merc outfit they were affiliated with. Cian himself was wearing the casual fatigues in Varangian violet and gold that he'd been provided with. Apparently it was something of an unspoken rule that if you were in a big group, you wore your outfit's colors on Galatea. That's what Vishali had said, anyway. Cian had seen no reason not to go along with it.

They left the bus, everyone following Vishali's lead as they walked down the sidewalk. Cian lit up a cigarette while they went along. The Major appeared to be in her element, explaining which famous such-and-such did what this-and-that at almost every bar, club, and bordello they passed by. At one point Vishali pointed at an advertisement for a movie titled "Peripheral Vision", which was apparently a spy thriller set during the Reunification War, centering around the forbidden love between a Canopian spy and the FWLM officer. One of the top-billed names was Ekaterini Neophytos.

"Mom plays the spy's handler. She says they're planning on making a whole series out of it. As they usually do." Vishali said with a shrug. "Mom really wanted the role. She said one of our ancestors worked for the Magistracy Intelligence Ministry back then. Probably a desk jockey or something. Either way, of course she got it."

Cian nodded. "The founder of my House earned his title during that war."

The other members of Iron Lance looked intrigued as he said this, but Cian didn't elaborate. Their group started walking again.

Long ago, the four primary Periphery Nations had wished to go their own ways, out of the Star League that demanded taxes but offered them no benefits. The First Lord of the Star League, Ian Cameron, could not let that stand for one reason or another. Thus, the Star League Defense Force joined the Great Houses in what was, at the time, the deadliest war in human history. In the end, the Periphery was forced back into the fold. The atrocities that took place during that war of subjugation ensured eternal animosity between the Great Houses and their Periphery neighbors, especially the Federated Suns and the Taurian Concordat.

The exception, however, was the Free Worlds League and the Magistracy of Canopus. The leaders on both sides of that front had informally decided they would not subject the common people to weapons of mass destruction or brutal conflicts in population centers. The Canopian Front was one of the few examples of honorable, even chivalrous, conduct on the part of the conquerors and defenders. There was still animosity, of course, but it was not nearly so deep or so bitter as elsewhere in the Inner Sphere.

"And they were piloting El Cid, as well?" Zahir prompted.

"They were. It was one of the first Black Knights off the assembly line. Loaded with the best the SLDF could get; endosteel chassis, ferro-fibrous armor, extended-range lasers, double heat sinks…but, over the years, it all became lostech. Heh, pretty sure the double sinks the Chief put in it are the first actual upgrade El Cid's gotten in four hundred years." Cian explained.

"I know how you feel, my friend." Zahir said. "My Jager used to have LB-X Autocannons, if you can believe it. That was when my grandfather piloted it, though. Bastard didn't deserve such fine weaponry, but I'll be damned if the BC footage of them isn't a work of art when he was actually using them for battle."

"As opposed to what?" Cian asked.

"Holding civilian settlements and ships at cannon-point." Zahir quipped.

Right. Zahir was from the Tortuga Dominions. It was the quintessential Bandit Kingdom, formed at the end of the Reunification War.

"Well, I know it's pointing out the obvious, but good on you for leaving that behind." Cian told him.

"It is the obvious choice, that can't and shouldn't be denied. And, yet, given the Dominions still exist and even thrive, it's far less obvious to some than others." Zahir grunted. He offered a half-smile to Cian. "Still. Nice of you to say it."

"Here we are!" Vishali exclaimed. They stopped before a nightclub that was four stories tall, its general architecture giving Cian the impression of something between a pine cone and a drill bit. Most of it was made of glass, upon which scintillating lights flashed from the inside.

Cian looked up at the place. He'd gone to clubs like this one shore leave with his FWLM comrades and never had any strong feelings for it one way or another. It was nice to be around people who weren't the same faces aboard ship day in and day out, if nothing else.

Being so distracted by the lights and the music pulsing out from the inside, Cian actually forgot to look and see what the establishment was called on the sign above the front doors. It was plastered in enough places around the inside that his ignorance was quickly amended. The Core. It didn't seem like a terribly creative name. He had not missed the No Smoking signs, and so put out his almost spent cigarette and threw it away.

The Core's ground level was laid out in a tiered fashion, with the highest tier around the edges of the room being where the bar was, as well as doorways to private rooms where the music could be shut out. The middle tier was mostly just tables and chairs, while the lowest in the middle was a dance floor that, at present, looked like a singular, seething mass thanks to dim lighting and dozens of people being packed close together. The three levels above were all wrap-around balconies hugging the uneven shape of the building.

Vishali talked to someone in a fancy uniform with the Core's logo stitched on the breast. They spoke to each other as if they knew each other. Cian supposed they were the maitre'd, or whatever that role was called in a place that wasn't a fancy restaurant. A host? Regardless, they gave Vishali an enthusiastic series of nods.

"I got us a spot up on the third floor if you prefer someplace quiet!" Vishali informed everyone over the music and chatter of the club. "Just scan your noteputer and they'll let you through! Now, all of you go have fun, that's an order! It's all on my tab!"

To Cian's surprise, the first to leave was Konomi, who had not said a word the entire time. Rather than heading up to the quieter third floor as Cian suspected they would, Konomi instead immediately headed down to the bottom tier and found themself absorbed into the dancing crowd, Vishali right behind her, along with Yifeng and most of the others.

Zahir motioned for Cian to follow. With them was Shen, Silver Lance's leader, a young man of middling build, and one of his Lancemates, a burly woman with almost as many piercings as Inaya named Valeria McCord. The four of them made their way to the bar. Cian ordered a rum and cola, making to pay for it, then remembering Vishali was covering the evening's debauchery. Her family was wealthy in a way House Serrano certainly never had been at any point. Cian's eyes had almost bugged out of his skull when Vishali revealed a few weeks back that her parents had outright bought her Marauder from FWLM surplus. That was almost six and a half million C-Bills, to say nothing of the cost of getting a mothballed Heavy 'Mech back in fighting shape.

The four MechWarriors found a table, the conversation beginning at the fight or Voidguard Iota. Shortly thereafter, it turned to what always seemed to happen when MechWarriors gathered with booze in hand; comparing war stories.

"...it was actually pirates then, too, of course. Outworlds military is a joke. It was always actually pirates." Valeria was saying, discussing her time in the Draconis Combine Mustered Soldiery. They were all a few drinks deep at that point, and Cian was feeling comfortably buzzed. He hadn't even been watching the clock.

"Paid for by House Davion on the down low, I'm guessing." Zahir said.

"Of course." Valeria said.

"And the Davions fucking deserve every C-Bill's worth of trouble they get." Declared Shen, raising his glass to say, "long live House Calderon." Then he drained it.

Valeria rolled her eyes with a grin, repeating, "of course."

"Dominions got our fair share from House Kurita to do the same thing." Zahir concurred.

"And House Steiner loved 'losing assets' to the Circinus Federation, as I recall." Cian threw in.

The others gave cynical chuckles.

"Who was worse; Circinus or the Marians?" Valeria asked Cian.

Cian pondered the question. Both of them were Periphery Realms on the League's Anti-Spinward border.

"The Circians, for sure. The Marians are just a bunch of weirdos pretending to be Romans. Doubt they'll ever become much of anything. Probably be gone by the end of the millenium." Cian said dismissively.

"People have claimed the very same thing about Tortuga over the years. Minus the Roman part, of course." Zahir pointed out.

Cian shrugged. "If I could predict the future, I'd be a lot richer."

"God, ain't that the fuckin' truth." Shen sighed. He pointed around the table and asked, "refills?"

Cian looked down into his nearly empty glass, considered it, then nodded. Why not? It had been a while since he'd really indulged.

"Yup." Valeria said.

"If you'd be so kind." Zahir requested.

Shen gave a thumbs up and headed for the bar.

Zahir shifted to lean on an elbow and look at Cian, a serpentine smile on his face.

"What?" Cian asked.

"So. The Head MechTech..." Zahir said.

Cian blinked. "What about her?"

"Come now, Cian. No need to play coy. We're Lancemates. We've been through the fire of combat. That makes us brothers." The smile grew wider. "Book shopping together? I've never seen it before."

"Wait. He's going out with the Chief?" Valeria asked, incredulous.

Oh. There it was.

"What? No, we're not going out, we're just…" Cian trailed off, snapping a finger to try to jar the thought loose. The whisky wasn't helping.

"...both going to the same place at the same time with each other to partake in the activity mutually." Zahir finished.

"Exactly." Cian said, then paused and narrowed his eyes. "Wait…."

"I asked her out not long after I signed on a few years ago." Valeria sighed wistfully. "But, sadly, her ACs don't load the same shells as mine, if you get me."

"I think I do?" Cian said, rapidly feeling like the conversation was outpacing him.

"Why not the Major, then? She'll load her ACs with any rounds she wants." Zahir said to Valeria.

"Not the kind of fusilade I want to get into with my commanding officer." Valeria demured.

"What the fuck are you two saying?" Cian asked.

Zahir laughed, opening his mouth to speak, but suddenly his eyes went wide. "Iron Four, DOWN!" He barked.

Hearing his callsign sparked an instinctive reaction. Cian flattened himself on the tabletop, feeling something ruffle his long hair as it passed over his head. He'd been in enough brawls over the years to realize what had just happened.

Cian stood from his tall chair, knocking it back into his assailant, which didn't carry enough force to do anything but serve as an obstacle. It was enough to give Cian time to turn and face his attacker. It was a man just a bit shorter than him, pale and fair-haired, wearing fatigues of blue and silver, as well as an expression of hatred. "Maj. Keldair" was stitched on his breast.

The man struck again, Cian responding by putting a boot on the chair between them and shoving it with all his strength. The back of the chair dug into Keldair's ribs and he grit his teeth, backing up a few steps, but another figure in blue and gold was already coming forward, a dark-skinned woman with a scar down the middle of her face. She was about to drop Cian like a bad habit when Valeria slammed into her, the Varangian shouting something along the lines of "fucking traitors!" So, too, did Zahir hurl himself at Keldair.

Cian had no idea who these blue-clad individuals were, or why the reaction of his fellow Varangians was so immediately violent, but what was true in the cockpit of a 'Mech was true on any battlefield great or small; when your siblings-in-arms got stuck into the fray, you backed them up.

Cian stepped forward, intercepting another blue bedecked assailant that was trying to flank Zahir. His prosthetic fist sank into the attacker's gut, and though the limb was basically just as strong as his flesh and blood arm, Cian didn't have to worry about breaking any fingers with the punch. The assailant folded around Cian's punch and dropped with a wheeze. However, they were immediately replaced by two more, and Cian found himself forced back against the table. He realized there were several more of the blue and silver bastards, and was now focused on trying to keep his still tender ribs from being pulverized.

A fist connected with the left side of Cian's jaw, turning his head sharply and sending stars before his eyes. He managed to block a knee meant for his ribs, but received a punch in the face that split the brow above his bionic eye open. If this kept up, Cian knew he was about to have his ass kicked.

A full glass of whisky and cola collided with the head of one of Cian's assailants. It fell to the floor and shattered, letting Cian turn his attention to the one who had decked him twice. They were lithe and svelte, face red with fury as they swung for Cian's face. Cian brought up his flesh and blood arm, intercepting a blow that would have struck him directly in the temple, then unleashed a straight jab with his right. The bionic hand shattered his attacker's nose, which they clutched as blood ran between their fingers. Cian pushed his opponent back with a hard shove, sending them sprawling as a violet and gold figure soared over his head.

Shen, who had been the one that had thrown the glass, Cian realized, had apparently jumped up onto the table and bodily thrown himself at the main mass of the blue and silver mercs. He and an indeterminate number of the opposition went down in a big tangle of limbs.

Cian clenched his fists, taking a step forward and tagging the woman Valeria was brawling against with a shot to the ribs, letting Valeria put her down for good. Cian couldn't spot Zahir in the chaos but waded in alongside Valeria. The two of them kicked and thrashed, hauling a bloodied Shen to his feet and preparing to take on whoever might come next.

The Core's security staff arrived at speed; the fight had been going on for less than a minute. Quite used to rival bands of mercs with too much to drink throwing hands, club security separated the two sides. Cian found his good arm locked behind his back, feeling himself get hauled away from the rival mercs. By then, Vishali had arrived with the others and was trying to figure out what had happened. Things became a bit of a blur as security ensured the two sides remained separated as the Varangians were politely but firmly informed that their time at the Core had seen its end for the evening.

"We'll see you on the battlefield, you fucking cowards!" Keldair called after the Varangians. "We'll fucking see you!"

An unintelligible series of curses and condemnations from the Varangians were the response as they filtered out of the club. Escalation would probably lead to law enforcement getting involved and arrests being made. Since no one had been killed or even seriously hurt, it seemed everyone was content with letting the brawl be the start and the end of it.

When they were all outside, Cian checked his noteputer to see a surprising amount of time had passed inside the club. It was well past when he normally turned in for the night.

"HaHAH! They had us three to one and we still kicked their asses!" Zahir declared. His face was a roadmap of bruises and one nostril oozed blood.

"I'm not sure that's how I'd put it." Cian said, gingerly touching his split brow.

Zahir threw an arm around his shoulders as they started walking. "We're all walking away. That's what matters. We were the Spartans at Thermopylae against the great horde of Xerxes in there."

"They were actually called Lacedaemonians…" Cian started to say.

"I didn't expect them to be here." Vishali sighed as she fell into step alongside them.

"Not like you could've known either way." Zahir said.

"Sorry we got us all kicked out." Cian apologized.

Vishali scoffed. "This is Galatea, Cian. This will all be forgotten tomorrow, have no fear."

"So…who exactly were those clowns?" Cian asked.

"Asher's Knights." Konomi muttered from behind.

"Mhm. Mercs who hung us out to dry on Galderbruk." Zahir growled.

"Mercs who, due to a miscommunication from our mutual employer, think we abandoned them on Galderbruk." Vishali corrected.

"I'm not ruining my good mood with this argument again. Can I bum a smoke, Cian?" Zahir asked.

Cian obliged. He lit Zahir's, then one for himself.

"The Knights say we advanced without them, leaving them exposed to a Capellan ambush. We say they hung back to let us take the brunt of the Capellans' diversionary assault." Vishali explained, her "we" loaded enough to convey she thought the whole feud was foolish. "Neither of us even took any losses. But it sowed a seed that flowered a few months later in the Andurien system, when we were on contract with the Duchy of Andurien, and they were on House Liao's payroll. That time, we both lost MechWarriors."

"We'll finish them off one day." Zahir assuree Cian.

"We're mercenaries. We fight for whoever holds our contract. You're all choosing to make it personal." Vishali retorted.

"Zahir said something about not ruining the good mood." Konomi said.

Vishali and Zahir looked at each other. The latter shrugged.

"Regardless, you've really been in the trenches with us now, Cian." Zahir said, finally letting him go.

"Is this a normal shore leave for you, then?" Cian asked the group.

"Thankfully, no." Vishali said, but then with a sly grin, "theoretically."

Cia grimaced.

9th October, 2965

Cian's headache was not entirely from getting punched in the head. Doctor Sandra, as she preferred to be called, had stitched Cian's brow closed, being none too gentle after being awoken. Cian decided that was fair.

However bruised and hungover he may have been, Cian forced himself to get up and go through his routine, not wanting to miss the day's main obligation. The day before, Cian hadn't thought much of it, but after talking to Zahir in the Core, Cian was now aware of how this looked.

It's literally just two friends going to look at books. He reminded himself more than once. That was usually followed by thoughts of Inaya's smile, or her laughter, and then he'd have to focus on not thinking of her working out.

In short, Cian was trapped in a spiral of overthinking the simple fact that a pretty girl had invited him to go somewhere.

How old are you, Cian? How many life or death 'Mech battles have you been in? This is nothing. Cian thought to himself as he entered his billet after lunch. He traded his jumpsuit for a simple, dark sweater and fatigue pants. The only "nice" thing he owned was his dress uniform, and that definitely felt inappropriate at the moment. He tied his hair back and put on a billed cap bearing the crossed axes symbol of the Varangians, decided that would do, then went to meet Inaya.

The Head MechTech was waiting near the Bardiche's airlock, which was linked to the sprawling structure of one of Galaport's spaceport terminals. She wore a short leather jacket over a form-fitting shirt depicting an armored woman standing with one foot upon the severed head of a dragon, holding a bloodied sword aloft. The blood dripping from the sword spelled the words "WILD HUNT." Inaya surprised him by wearing an ankle-length black skirt. That probably shouldn't have surprised him just because she wore stained coveralls most days. It was a good look for her, Cian decided. What he wasn't sure about was why there were two cardboard boxes full of books at her feet.

"Hey", Inaya said as he approached.

"Chief." Cian greeted. "Ready?"

"Yep." Inaya said, picking up one box.

Cian grabbed the other without even thinking about it. "What's all this?"

"I've only got so much room in my room for books. And my trunk in the cargo hold. Captain Harbjorn's pretty adamant about me keeping it to one trunk. So, I try to donate some old stuff whenever I find a book store. Frees up room for me and the store can sell it again. Everybody wins." Inaya said as she proceeded through the airlock. "You don't have to carry that, you know."

"I know." Cian replied, making no move to hand over the box. It wasn't particularly big or heavy.

"I mean, I'm not going to complain." Inaya said. "Heard from Fish you had an eventful night at the Core. You still up for this?"

Cian grinned and raised his prosthetic hand, wiggling its fingers and saying, "I've had a lot worse than a couple thumps to the head."

Inaya looked at the hand. "Good point." She said.

"So, where are we going?" Cian asked her as they entered the long hallway that led to the terminal proper.

"Second Flight Books." Inaya replied. "It's my favorite bookstore in the entire Inner Sphere. Since print's not as popular as digital, most bookstores just take whatever they can get, but Second Flight focuses on fantasy. They've got other stuff, too, of course, but no one's got a better selection of what I like to read."

"I see." Cian said, looking down at one of the books in the box he was carrying. The cover depicted a plate-clad knight astride a six-legged lizard of some kind. Another man in a silk doublet was reaching up to give the knight a golden rose. "The Last Paladin of Pendagos by Dominic Castillo", it read.

"Don't judge me, ok?" Inaya said a little sheepishly, noticing where his attention was.

"Not sure why I'd judge you." Cian said.

"...I dunno." Inaya muttered. "A lot of it's pretty trashy."

"I mean. Seems pretty harmless to me. Who gives a damn if it's trashy if you enjoy it?" Cian asked.

"Fish used to make fun of me for it when we were younger. Then I heard no end of it from the other AsTechs back when she and I both joined the Varangians." Inaya said.

"So you joined up at the same time?" Cian asked. He was curious about that.

"We did." Inaya confirmed. "Fish always dreamed of being a MechWarrior. I didn't really care about 'Mechs until our moms bought her Mastani. First time I saw it walking around the estate, I got it in my head that I needed to know how it worked. I started bugging the MechTech they hired to maintain it to teach me. Hadriana was her name. Former Magistracy Armed Forces 'Tech. Thanks to her, I could take Mastani apart and put it back together with my eyes closed. Anyhow, the MAF's always been small, so we couldn't join them. Commander Schneider happened to be the one to see Fish on the MRB and take a chance." She grinned. "You should have heard her argue with Ketill. 'My sister is the finest MechTech in the Sphere. No Inaya, no Vishali, and no Marauder. Your choice, Commander.'"

"Given you're already a Head MechTech, seems like she was onto something with that." Cian said.

Inaya waved off his compliment. "I won't say I'm no good, but I'm definitely not the best."

They reached the terminal proper, working their way over moving walkways and on a ground shuttle that took them to Galaport's security checkpoint. Most of that time was spent with Inaya grilling Cian on the details of what had happened at the Core the previous night. They passed through the checkpoint and boarded a bus, sitting near the back.

"Can I ask you a question, Chief?" Cian said after a minute or so.

"I don't see why not." Inaya said.

"What's 'Strider' mean?"

Inaya chuckled. "You just kind of look like a character whose named that. Well, he's not named that, but…well, it doesn't matter." She awkwardly brushed some hair behind one ear.

Cian tilted his head to one side. "Now you've got me curious. Which character? What's he from?"

Inaya considered him for several moments, like she was taking his measure, which seemed like too much gravitas for such a simple question. Cian wasn't going to begrudge the chance to see those lovely hazel eyes being fixed on him, if nothing else.

"Alright, have you seen 'Lord of the 'Mechs?'" Inaya asked.

"Uhm…I've been in the room while it was on but never really watched it. Isn't there a guy named something Strider in it?" Cian tried to recall. It was a pretty popular movie when they were teenagers. He knew it was one of the myriad films that took BattleMechs and made them fantastical. There were universes where 'Mechs were powered by complicated enchantments, or bound angels and demons, or the blood of magical creatures, and they could do all manner of crazy things like teleport or grow wings or turn invisible.

"Alecto Strider. He's kind of inspired by who I'm talking about. So, Strider is like a nickname, his real name is Aragorn. Well, if you want to be technical, his real name is Aragorn II son of Arathorn, and he's also called Elessar, which means Elfstone, because he was given the Elfstone by Galadriel, the Lady of Lorien. Right, sorry, Aragorn. So, he's a ranger, but the old kind of ranger, good at hunting and tracking and stuff, but he's part of an order of rangers called the Dunedain, but they aren't just a bunch of rangers, they're actually…"

And from there, Cian found himself completely lost in a torrent of unfamiliar words. Inaya ranted at him about orcs and a "One Ring" and important swords and something about a guy named Isildur and the Blood of Numenor. The word "Urukhai" got brought up, which was one Cian actually recognized, for he knew of a mercenary company that fought almost exclusively for the Federated Suns calling themselves the Fighting Urukhai. For all that, though, Cian didn't mind. Inaya's enthusiasm was on full display as she laid out complicated strands of interconnected lore. She was passionate about this stuff in the same way she was about working on 'Mechs. Cian didn't need to understand it all. Inaya was sharing part of herself with him, and he treasured it for the privilege that it was.

"Chief." He said softly.

"...so then he was crowned Aragorn II Elessar Telcontar, King of Gondor and Arnor, and…" Inaya was saying.

"Chief." Cian said a bit louder.

"Th-...wait, what?" Inaya asked.

The bus stopped.

"This is us." Cian said with a pleasant smile.

"...oh." Inaya said. Her cheeks reddened as she stood up and left the bus.

Cian followed close behind.

They stepped off the bus. The area of Galaport they were in didn't have the same high rises as where Cian had been the night before, but they were still surrounded on all sides by structures were at least five stories tall.

"C'mon. It's a few blocks this way." Inaya said as she started walking.

"Sounds good." Cian said.

They took a few steps.

"I'm sorry." Inaya added quietly.

"For?" Cian prompted.

"Rambling at you for like half an hour about a one-thousand year old book series." Inaya clarified.

"I did ask." Cian pointed out.

"Well, yeah, but…", Inaya began.

"And I'm a grown man who could ask you to stop if I didn't want to hear it, aren't I?" Cian said further. "It was interesting. Can't say I understood all of it, but it was interesting. And I liked hearing you tell it. So don't worry about it, Chief."

Inaya looked over at him, an unreadable expression on her face. Cian met her eyes, waiting for her to speak.

"Can't believe you've never seen 'Lord of the 'Mechs.'" She finally muttered as she looked away with a slight smile.

"I thought you said it wasn't faithful to, uh, Tokeen?" Cian asked.

"Tolkien. And it's not. Not really. But it's still one of my favorite movies ever." Inaya said.

"I guess you'll have to show it to me sometime, won't you?" Cian suggested. "If you'd like to, that is."

"Yeah. I guess I will, won't I?" Inaya agreed.

Second Flight Books was sandwiched under an apartment building that was like so many others. Though the sign was at street level, Cian and Inaya had to descend a flight of stairs beneath ground level to enter.

A bell clanged as Cian opened the door and let Inaya through. They entered a low-ceilinged room with the smell of old paper in the air. At least one dehumidifier was humming in a back corner. Something bluesy was twanging away softly on speakers hung from the ceiling. A half-dozen rows of of double-sided shelves filled the center of the room. The walls had more shelves on them, as well. Cian was impressed. Print media wasn't dead, but it was definitely less popular than digital. That said, print had made a resurgence during the Third Succession War. Too much had been lost during the previous two.

Cian had expected a decrepit old white-haired archivist type to be in charge. What he got was a short, bespeckled girl who was probably twenty at the oldest. She had light brown skin and kept her dark hair in a series of long, thin braids.

"Hello, welcome in." The girl said, courteously but mechanically.

"Hey, Freja. Is your dad around?" Inaya asked.

Freja looked up from the cart of books she was putting away. "Oh! Inaya!" She looked at Cian. "And…?" The girl was unnerved, probably by Cian's eye. Some people tended to be.

"This is Cian. He joined the Varangians a couple months ago." Inaya explained. She walked over to the front counter and set her box on it. Cian did the same.

"Good to meet you." Cian said.

"You, too." Freja said, actually sounding a little excited, then she answered Inaya. "Dad's getting lunch with mom right now." She frowned. "Sorry to say he couldn't find it. Well, found one copy, a really really old one, but the price would probably make you puke. There's probably cheaper 'Mechs out there."

Inaya shrugged. "It's a long shot. Oh well." She thumped the books she just set down. "Donations as always. No store credit needed. And anything he gets", Inaya pointed a thumb at Cian, "is on me. Don't let him pay."

Cian didn't protest that. He started wandering around the stacks as Inaya chatted with Freja.

"So, how's Leo?" Inaya asked.

"We, uh…we broke up not long after you were here last time." Freja said.

"Oh. Sorry to hear that…", Inaya replied.

Their conversation faded into the background as Cian's focus settled on the shelves. It was a treasure trove of things that would likely never be put into print again. Granted, he could guess why titles such as "The Queen of the Warlock's Harem" hadn't exactly taken off enough to be timeless, but all the same. They were things living on past the time most people had allotted to them. House Serrano could relate to that. It lived on in Cian, forgotten by the League, but remembered by him. By Svik. By the few lives it had touched, to be picked up by whoever happened upon it.

A melancholy settled over Cian. He kept wandering, though, making an effort to find something he might read for Inaya's sake. No need to ruin this outing that was clearly important to her.

"Find anything?" A bright flash of red-orange asked from Cian's peripheral vision.

Cian snapped out of his stupor and realized he hadn't actually been absorbing the books in front of him for several minutes. Inaya was beside him, looking eager.

"I've just been taking it all in first. Kind of overwhelming, I'll admit." Cian answered with a smile that silently said "what can ya do, eh?"

"Well, what do you like? We can narrow it down." Inaya suggested.

Cian thought about that. As he did, he came to a realization.

"I don't really know." He admitted.

Inaya seemed perplexed. "You…don't know what you like?" The concept sounded alien to her.

Cian elaborated. "I want to say history, but that was just my favorite subject in school. And I doubt it would be anymore, I never finished school and haven't really thought about it since. I was only sixteen when El Cid came back from the Capellan Front minus my father and…"

And he hadn't thought about anything like that in a long time. It was always the 17th Regulan Hussars, then not thinking about the death of the 17th, then trying not to let his family's holdings be lost, all the while trying to serve the League. Even before all that, as a child raised by Svik, all Cian had known was preparing himself to make his father proud, a father he hadn't realized he hated with every fiber of his being until after Sherbrooke. But now all of that was gone. His efforts had come to nothing, and there was nothing but a yawning gap right through him where purpose should have been.

Being in the middle of a bookstore with a person he didn't know very well was not the best place for the crushing realization that, other than his taste in music, he'd wasted the entire thirty-one year span of his life without ever considering what he wanted, what he even liked. Even joining the Varangians had been because of the simple fact that being a MechWarrior was the only thing Cian knew how to be.

"Hey. Are you alright?" Inaya asked. She looked worried now.

"Yeah, yeah." Cian said hurriedly, making a show of rattling his head a little. "I'm fine. Sorry. Spaced off."

She didn't believe him, and blindsided him with what she said next. "Cian. It's fine if you're not fine."

Cian saw the sympathy and understanding in Inaya's expression and that alone almost had him crying on the spot. He forced it down, not wanting to make a scene, but he didn't want to lie, either. Not to her, when she was trying to help. He'd try to put a positive spin on it.

"It just hit me that I finally have the chance to figure out what I do like." Cian said, and that sounded like a good way to put it to his ears. "So. I'm open to recommendations, if you've got them."

Inaya nodded, shifting from worried to hopeful. Excited, even. "Oh, I certainly do. C'mon."

Almost an hour later, they approached the front counter, both loaded down with books. Freja had emptied the boxes they brought earlier, now loading them up with the new purchases.

"Give your folks my best. And tell your dad he can probably stop looking." Inaya said.

"Oh, he'll keep trying. Now he's too invested." Freja said with a shrug. "Don't worry too much. It's not like he's taking JumpShips to hunt it down."

"Fair enough." Inaya said as she paid. "It was good to see you, Freja. I'll be back…well, when we're back."

"Stay safe!" Freja said, "and it was nice meeting you, Cian."

"You, too." Cian said, picking up one of the boxes.

As they ascended the outside stairs to street level, Cian asked a question he'd forgotten earlier.

"What do you have Freja's dad searching for?" Cian asked.

"A book called 'The Silmarillion.' It's also by Tolkien, and for some reason a lot fewer physical copies of it are still around. I don't think it got the same number of reprints his other stuff did, so I'm probably kinda screwed, but all the same." Inaya shrugged.

"Ah. Well. Guess I'll have to keep an eye out then." Cian said with a chuckle.

"Pfft, good fucking luck." Inaya laughed.

As they walked on, Cian didn't want this outing to end quite yet. Near mental breakdown aside, it was more enjoyable than any shore leave he could remember.

"Hey, Chief." Cian prompted.

"Hm?"

"How's coffee sound?"

Inaya tilted her head to one side, lips pursed in thought.

"It sounds like just what I need." She decided.

The two of them arrived back at the Bardiche right around dinner time. They stepped through the airlock and into the main crew deck hallway. Then the two of them stood facing each other, neither saying anything just yet.

Cian broke the silence with, "thanks, Chief. For inviting me along. And for buying me books. And, you know, everything else."

"It was my pleasure. Thanks for coming with. And for listening to me ramble. And for the coffee." Inaya replied, saying the latter part with a hint of mirth. It had taken a little convincing to get the MechTech to allow Cian to pay for it.

"Of course." Cian said.

A few seconds ticked by. Inaya looked down at her box of books. Cian's eyes drifted to the wall.

"I'd-"

"We-"

They'd spoken at the same time, making eye contact as they interrupted each other. Both laughed.

"Go ahead." Inaya insisted.

"I was going to say I'd like it if…" Cian steeled himself, taking a deep breath in, then letting it out. He felt his face get warm. "...if we did something like this again sometime."

"You bet your ass." Inaya said.

"Awesome." Cian said.

"Good." Inaya agreed.

A few beats.

"Guess I'll…see you at dinner, probably." Inaya said.

"Yeah. See you then." Cian said.

They both turned and walked in opposite directions.

"Ah, fuck it." Cian heard Inaya say. "Strider."

Cian stopped and turned. Inaya was blushing fiercely, eyes affixed upon her books.

"It's a date next time. If you want it to be." She said with that blunt force that seemed to be her defense against bashfulness.

Cian felt a swooping sensation glide through his core. It was so unexpected he didn't answer immediately. Inaya seemed to take that as a reason to keep going.

"Look, I don't know how long it's going to be until our next shore leave or where we'll be when we get it, so if you say yes now but change your mind by then I won't be mad or anything." The MechTech said hurriedly.

"You won't rewire El Cid to blow up on me?" Cian asked, unable to keep the crooked smile from his face.

"Didn't say that. Just that I wouldn't be mad." Inaya replied, still not meeting his eye.

"It's a date, then." Cian said.

"You're damn right, it is." Inaya said with finality, turning on her heel and walking away.

Chuckling to himself, Cian continued on his way to his room, feeling like he was walking on air. This entire shore leave had felt like a new beginning, in a lot of ways, growing closer with his comrades on the Bardiche, figuring things out about himself. Maybe, just maybe, the Varangians were going to be a good home for him after all.