"...And Spring herself, when she woke at dawn,
Would scarcely know that we were gone." - Sara Teasdale, There Will Come Soft Rains
The East Desolate, Epsilon Indi, Capellan Confederation
23rd December, 2965
The horrors of the Star League Civil War were still plain as day on Epsilon Indi. Three hundred years ago, the President of the Rim Worlds Republic, Stefan Amaris, had schemed his way into supplanting the First Lord of the Star League, wiping out House Cameron and establishing the Amaris Empire. The vaunted general Aleksandr Kerensky's systematic disassembly of that Empire was the stuff of legends, but as Epsilon Indi showed, the reality of the Civil War was legendary only in the suffering that those who endured it had to go through.
Cian used to believe all the common lines. He had believed that the Star League was an unparalleled golden age of peace and prosperity. The Reunification Wars? Well, those had been necessary, obviously. The peace needed to be kept, after all, the Periphery States reminded that loyalty to the hand that fed them was paramount.
Ever since Killing Stroke, though, Cian saw through it all. Those on top did what they wanted, those with the money made even more money, and those beneath them all suffered. Epsilon Indi was just one world where that suffering occurred.
The vast majority of the planet was an irradiated hellscape of blowing dust, blast craters, and ruined cities. Only the polar regions were habitable anymore. Given the fact that it was once part of the Terran Hegemony, the heart of the Star League, Epsilon Indi had been built up and blessed with the very best technology of the Star League Era. Such planets, sparsely populated but potentially wealthy with salvage, were common targets of clandestine expeditions from enemy nations. In this case, it was the Capellans themselves who were funding the expedition.
Cian didn't know what prompted the Capellans to think there was something valuable to be had here. But, they were paying Varangians well to both escort their salvage caravans and protect their base in the middle of the stretch of wasteland known as the East Desolate. Cian had been forced to switch off El Cid's Geiger counter days ago. It had quickly become a redundant annoyance rather than telling him anything useful. Luckily, he was shielded from the radiation within the Black Knight's cockpit. Tracked flatbed trucks chugged along, flanked by a variety of combat vehicles. The scattershot of different models went along with the fact that House Liao had hired mercs as 'Mech escorts; pretty much all of the Cappellans' regular BattleMech forces were required on their borders with the Free Worlds League and Federated Suns.
Ahead of them, a city loomed, a crumbling monument of the Terran Hegemony's power. Cian had heard the name in the briefing but it was static in his ears. It was far from the first ruined city he'd ever been in. God, he'd helped make one or two in his time. Killing Stroke may have been an abject failure, but that didn't mean the common people of the Lyran Commonwealth hadn't suffered for the ambitions of House Marik.
"Iron One, Brass One. We are still green." Yifeng reported for another of her regular check-ins.
"Copy, Brass One. Proceed." Vishali replied mechanically.
Cian walked El Cid along beside the convoy. Iron and Silver were running escort while Brass ranged ahead into the city itself. The other Companies were escorting other convoys or taking part in wide-ranging patrols, maintaining security. This was another unglamorous part of being a MechWarrior; a lot of trundling around with nothing to do but keep trundling.
"Hey, Cian." Vishali contacted him on a private channel.
"Yeah?" He acknowledged. He had to resist calling her Fish like Inaya always did.
"She's going to love the present you got her." Vishali said.
"No idea what you're talking about." Cian replied.
"Of course." Vishali said, a smile in her voice. "Look, I don't want to make it into anything bigger than it is, and you sure as hell don't need my permission, but for what it's worth I think you two go well together."
Cian flushed in a way he normally didn't while piloting unless El Cid was running hot.
"I guess…thanks?" Cian replied.
Laughter from the other end of the comms, then, "only advice I'll give as the big sister is patience. Yaya does things in her own time. She's not going to be like other people you've been with."
"Uh, yeah, heh, just so many of those to pick from…" Cian mumbled. He'd never actually been in a relationship before, just a few casual flings along the way. It was another thing the old Cian never made time for. As for the Major's advice, having patience for someone you cared about just sounded like common sense? Cian shrugged. Vishali was just looking out for her sister. "How are you the big sister? Is this one of those 'you were born two minutes before her?'"
"Oh, no, Yaya was born first." Vishali said.
She didn't elaborate and Cian decided he didn't need the confusion on the subject in his life.
"Well, all that aside, thank you for the advice. It's nothing serious yet. But I think I'd like it to be." Cian said.
"We've got to grab what happiness we can while we can." Vishali said, growing somber as she added, "as we can all see, tomorrow's never promised."
Cian looked ahead once more at the graveyard of concrete and steel ahead of them.
"No. I guess it isn't." Cian agreed.
They moved into the city, the Varangians fanning out through the streets around the convoy. Three hundred years of neglect had the urban sprawl in terrible condition. Buildings had collapsed, either partially or entirely. The rusting hulks of vehicles clogged many of the streets alongside heaps of rubble. More than once, the Varangians whose 'Mechs possessed hands had to use their machines to clear obstructions that the lead vehicle of the convoy couldn't push aside with its great wedge plow. Here and there the passage of the 'Mechs caused rubble to shift and fall, or a precarious building to give into gravity. There was no more chatter among the MechWarriors of Jotunn Company, for among the broken concrete, the shattered glass, the rusting steel, they all saw the bones.
They were everywhere. Some were complete skeletons, undisturbed from where they had fallen three centuries ago. They sat at the missing steering wheels of cars that were entirely rust or sprawled on sidewalks that were cracked and broken by years of shifting ground beneath them. But there were plenty of bones simply strewn about, wedged into pieces of rubble, spread across open areas. The radiation from the weapons of mass destruction dropped by the forces of Stefan Amaris would have killed much of the city within minutes far from the actual blast zone. Then the fallout, the severed lines of supply, fighting over dwindling supplies…
"Iron One, Brass One. We're still green." Yifeng reported.
"Copy, Brass One. Proceed." Vishali replied.
Cian sighed. Somehow, this was all worse than seeing a city that was in the middle of being destroyed. Here was a city full of corpses, full of destroyed futures, full of love and hope left in desolation. And what had the Capellan government done but leave it to be forgotten to crumble into dust?
"Major." Cian spoke up.
"Everything alright over there, Cian?" Vishali replied.
"What…what was the name of this city?" The Lieutenant asked.
Static for several moments. The background radiation of the planet made it far harsher than the average planet.
"...Rhodes. It used to be the capital of Epsilon Indi before the Amaris Civil War. It was moved to New Rhodes after…all this." Vishali answered.
Cian nodded to himself. "Thanks, Major."
"Sure thing, Cian." Vishali said.
Moments later, a new broadcast interrupted everyone else, coming from the expedition lead.
"Seeker Actual to all units. We are at the target destination. Assume guard positions and wait for further orders." They said.
Vishali coordinated Iron and Silver to places around the entrance to the underground facility the Capellan salvagers were picking over. The Varangians weren't told what exactly the Liao expedition was after, or what the facility even had been before the bombs fell. The mercs weren't being paid to ask questions or even be in the loop.
Cian put El Cid in its place. He was on one leading corner of the perimeter, Vishali taking up the other one a couple hundred meters away. Despite their proximity, Cian couldn't see any of his comrades through the remaining high rises and tall heaps left from falling buildings. There should have been traffic jams, thronging crowds. Sweethearts should have been walking arm in arm. Parents should have been chastising children for being unsafe near the street.
The silence washed it all away and took its place. It was making Cian feel like he was being watched. Could the dead see him, he wondered? Did they condemn him for the fact that he tread upon their remains with nearly every step? This was finding a dried out riverbed. This was the charred husks of trees after a wildfire.
"I'm sorry I don't know your names." Cian said to the ghosts. "You probably hate the fact that I was born to send others to join you." He looked around the cockpit like console before him might give him an answer to a question he didn't even have words for. "Being a MechWarrior is what I'm good at. It's where I belong. I remember days I felt like I'm a ghost when I'm not in the cockpit. I think…", a deep frown crossed his face, the oppressive weight in his gut growing even heavier. "...I think I might have been broken somewhere along the way."
Did that make it Cian's fault? He had tried another path. He had tried to handle House Serrano's lands, managing farms and lands that brought new growth rather than destruction. In spite of his best efforts, it had all ended in failure. Only now that he'd become a MechWarrior for the Varangians did life feel like it was finally starting to turn his way. Was that a bad thing? Was it wrong of him to find satisfaction, even joy, in this new life that was, in many ways, so much like the one that had him bringing ruin to Lyran cities at the point of a laser?
Cian's sensors pinged. Something of decent size was moving, barely one hundred meters away. It was firmly on Cian's side of the cordon. If he didn't tell anyone, they wouldn't even notice.
"Iron One, Iron Four. I have a sensor ping. Marking it. Permission to investigate?" Cian asked.
"Granted, Iron Four. Keep me posted." Vishali said.
"Copy, One." Cian said.
He throttled his 'Mech up to a walk, slowly approaching the spot where his sensor had pinged. Whatever it was, it wasn't moving. Cian hoped against hope it was nothing; a malfunction or part of the convoy that got lost. Fighting here would feel like brawling on hallowed ground. It was a foolish notion. There was nothing holy here. Rhodes, Cian suspected, was something closer to what hell looked like.
Cian turned a corner, aiming the L laser mounted on El Cid's right arm toward the blip. He saw a group of people, four of them, desperately trying to ratchet strap several battered metal crates into place on the back of an equally worn down flatbed truck. They had no doubt heard El Cid approaching. All four of them looked up at the Black Knight, freezing in place.
Cian looked at them. The quartet were fully enclosed in hazmat suits, complete with sealed helmets and external air tanks. All of them carried guns, but none went for their weapons. They stared at the L laser. One slowly put their hands into the air.
Who were they? Scavengers from the relatively habitable polar regions? Davion or Marik spies, come to claim what Liao's people were after? Off-world opportunists, following some obscure lead from an old datapad purchased at a premium?
It didn't matter. Cian knew what he had to do. He raised El Cid's arm a bit more…
…and pointed into the distance with the 'Mech's index finger, away from where the sensors of the other 'Mechs might pick the flatbed up.
The scavs looked at each other then back at El Cid. Cian bent and straightened the arm for emphasis.
"Come on, you idiots, don't just stand there." Cian growled, knowing they couldn't hear him.
The four mystery figures sprang into motion, checking their ratchet straps one last time, then climbing into their flatbed. One of them, the driver, paused to give Cian a grateful wave. The MechWarrior merely lowered El Cid's arm. Soon after, the flatbed began picking its way out of Rhodes.
"Report, Iron Four. See anything?" Vishali asked.
"Negative, Iron One. Just shifting rubble. False alarm." Cian replied. He gave the fleeing truck one final look, then turned back to resume his position. Rhodes had enough corpses in it. Cian saw no reason to add four more.
The rest of the day was boring as expected. The expedition apparently found something, but again, it wasn't the business of the Varangians to know what that something was. The Capellans loaded it up and the convoy did an about face, making its way out of ruins of Rhodes, leaving the dead to their desolate, quiet rest.
The Bardiche
27th December, 2965
The Unfinished Book was a new movement, by the standards of the Inner Sphere. It was founded by a collection of religious leaders within the Federated Suns who sought to bridge the gap between humanity's countless faiths, finding understanding and healthy discourse where strife normally existed. It had gained some popularity, mostly for its novelty, but remained mostly relegated to Davion space.
That is, except for the Winter Holiday. It was an eleven day celebration, each day supposed to have different themes, messages, and ideas. In reality, it just gave people across the Inner Sphere to celebrate for multiple days. And the eleventh day, which coincided with the anniversary of the Star League's founding, tended to be the most raucous.
Due to the deployment on Epsilon Indi, the eleventh day was really the only one the crew of the Bardiche got to celebrate. But Ketill was keeping the ship grounded in the safer polar region of the planet, in the spaceport of the capital at New Rhodes, to minimize the need for shipboard duties.
And celebrate they did.
Cian hadn't expected a festive mood. The ghosts of Rhodes still clung to him and the other MechWarriors, but when the day came, he found himself joining in with enthusiasm, partly to try to forget those troubles for a night, and partially because being around Inaya had a way of making it difficult for Cian to be anything other than glad.
The Head MechTech had dyed her hair again, this time a bright, festive scarlet. It matched the long-sleeved, crimson bodysuit she was wearing. It was in stark contrast to Vishali, who wore a gaudy, emerald green sweater stitched with the repeating image of an UrbanMech wearing a scarf, ice skates, and earmuffs.
The mess hall was the sight of the festivities. Konomi had baked a seemingly endless supply of iced sugar cookies to go along with a long spread of different foods from across the Inner Sphere. And, of course, there was beer, wine, and spirits aplenty. All of it was on Commander Schneider's personal C-Bill. Ketill himself was aboard the Halberd, and if Cian's guess was correct, that's where Doctor Sandra had gotten off too, as well.
Cian sat next to Inaya, surrounded by a mix of his fellow MechWarriors and the Chief's AsTechs. One of said AsTechs, a young man named Raleigh Briggs, was telling a story that had the table doubled over with laughter.
"...so then…so then…" He was trying to speak between gasps. "Then the Major says, 'I appreciate the quick response, but I must ask; is the lack of pants a new regulation?'"
Cian made an ungraceful snort and wheeze, thumping the table, almost putting his face into a plate of tikka masala and mashed potatoes. He felt Inaya lean against him, shaking with laughter. Not for the first time that night, he resisted the urge to put an arm around her shoulders.
"I did say it was an urgent emergency repair." Vishali said, delicately wiping tears from her eyes as she sipped from a glass of wine.
"Look I really needed the job, ok." Raleigh chortled. "I mean I still do, but even worse then."
"You even learned to hold a plasma torch by the right end after only a couple of months." Inaya said, covering her mouth as she laughed some more.
Raleigh said some colorful words as his fellow AsTechs nudged him and tousled his hair.
"That's how we have to dress every time we get into the cockpit." Zahir said. "I like it. It's so…freeing. Almost makes me hope cooling suits stay lostech."
"Says the Jager pilot." Cian quipped into his beer.
"I've been meaning to ask you to hold still in the next combat so I can grill something on El Cid's hull." Zahir retorted.
"You're scraping that shit off when you're done if you know what's good for you." Inaya said.
The conversation trailed off as Captain Harbjorn clacked a spoon against the tin cup he was holding.
"Everyone, the Commander has something to say." Harbjorn informed them, pointing to the big view screen on one end of the mess hall.
Ketill's bearded face appeared on the screen.
"Varangians, I don't want to interrupt the festivities by getting sentimental on you, so I'll keep this quick." He said. "The Varangians have been my life since the day I was born. Back then, all we had was the Halberd and the Miklagard. I look at what it's become and I'm damned proud to call myself your Commander. I want to thank you all, newcomers and veterans alike, for the parts that you play in our organization. The Inner Sphere is an uncertain place, but we'll face every challenge together, just like the Varangians always have. Here's to another good year", he raised a mug into frame, "now, enough of all that. Get drunk and stuff your faces. That's an order. Happy holidays to all." He drained the mug in one go.
The crew of the Bardiche mimicked the Commander, raising their glasses and tipping them back. The merriment continued in earnest. There was no real organization to it all, no plans beyond the food and drink. People drifted between the mess hall and the rec room. Some exchanged gifts. Card games were played. An unlikely romantic comedy about MechWarriors falling in love over the holidays called "The Night before ChristMechs" was playing on the rec room's holotable. It was one of those harmless, predictable films that even if you'd never seen it, you'd seen its like a thousand times.
And Cian was happy. This little bubble of light and joy and cheer pierced the gloom. This was it, he realized. This was what he fought for now. Not for C-Bills, not for glory, not for some family legacy of MechWarriors. It was these people, and the Varangians aboard the other vessels. It was their little mobile slice of the Inner Sphere. It was, Cian realized, a place he might finally be able to call home and really believe it.
As Cian started to feel a pleasant buzz coming on, he realized he needed to enact his plan before the booze flowed too liberally and the night was lost to revelry. He went to his room to grab something, then found Inaya in the rec room, standing against the wall with can of beer in her hand, cheeks puffed out as she quickly worked her way through a plate of Konomi's cookies that were sitting on a table within arms reach. Cian tried not to stare at the way her bodysuit and dark pants left gaps that showed off her hips. Even those were tattooed. With what, he wondered?
Staring. He was staring.
"Can't stop eating them either, huh." Cian noted, pointing at the cookies.
"Mhmph", Inaya agreed, swallowed, then said, "I don't know how Konomi does it. They've got the Midas touch but they turn shipboard rations into five star desserts."
"Yeah." Cian said, feeling nervous.
Inaya blinked at him, then tilted her head as if to look around him. "Are you hiding something behind your back?"
"I am." Cian admitted, then showed what he was holding; a rectangular package wrapped in plain, brown paper. From: Cian, To: Inaya was written on the top in permanent marker.
The corners of Inaya's mouth quirked up. "You got me a present?"
"I did. And you probably…well, I know it's…", he sighed. He'd been so sure of it up until this point, now it all seemed so stupid. Still, too late to turn back now. "Here." He said, holding out the package.
"Shit, Strider. You didn't have to." Inaya said, but she undid the string holding the paper closed, then unwrapped what lay within.
Cian manually kept himself breathing so he didn't hold it in anticipation.
Confusion crossed Inaya's face as the paper fell away and she held up a three ring binder that was heavy with the pages contained between its cover.
"What…?" She started to say.
"Open it." Cian suggested. His stomach was doing backflips.
Inaya played along, opening the binder with the crackle of new plastic. She leaned her head down a little and peered at the first page.
"You didn't." The MechTech uttered.
"I might've." Cian said.
Inaya flipped the first few pages. As she did, her eyes scanning back and forth, the look of confusion shifted to utter bafflement.
"You…printed out the entire fucking 'Silmarillion'...and put it in a binder. When? How?" Inaya grilled him.
"Oh, you know, on and off here an there." Cian said. In truth, it had been a harrowing ordeal. Not really realizing what he was getting into, Cian had tried to commandeer a printer in the Capellan outpost that was their base camp for the expeditions. As he stood horrified at the number of pages being printed out, a Capellan quartermaster had entered the office. First, Cian had almost been shot as a spy. Next, the quartermaster had laughed at him when Cian explained what he was doing. Finally, Cian got chewed out for using so much ink and paper. A transfer of C-Bills had smoothed that particular wrinkle, at least.
"Uh huh…", Inaya said, clearly not believing him.
"Look, I know you really wanted a physical copy, so I figured maybe this could be a placeholder until you find the real deal?" Cian said, cringing. It was bad. It was stupid. This was a mistake. He needed t-...
Inaya started laughing. She laughed so hard she had to set her beer down beside her cookies. The MechTech put a hand on Cian's chest and leaned against him to keep from doubling over all the way, clutching the binder across her stomach. In a room full of people drinking, joking, and getting into the spirit, most of the others only spared a cursory glance. That is, except, for Vishali, who looked up from the card game she was playing, made eye contact with Cian, and smirked, then returned to her cards.
Cian, for his part, initially felt relief, but then Inaya's laughter went on for just long enough that he started to logic loop himself into once again believing that he'd made a mistake.
Wiping her eyes on her sleeve, Inaya finally stood up straight.
"Oh god. Whew. Fuck…", she breathed, taking several deep breaths.
"Does…that mean you like it?" Cian asked tentatively.
"Strider, this might just be the sweetest thing anyone's ever done for me." Inaya said. She held the binder to her chest, beaming at him.
"Oh. Good." Cian said, trying not to let his relief show.
"I was going to give you your gift tomorrow after everyone sobered up, but now I can't wait. C'mon." Inaya said, taking Cian by the arm.
The MechWarrior was more than happy to let her lead him along.
Inaya took Cian away from the festivities, through the Bardiche's halls until they reached the officers billets. Inaya's room was a few doors down from Cian's. Only Captain Harbjorn had the privilege of a larger billet, and his was only about twice the size of the other officers'.
There was so many books in the head MechTech's room that she'd needed to put up more shelving on, essentially, every available wall space. They all had removable slats in front of the books, holding the volumes in place in case of rough flying.
"Alright. Just…a…second…", Inaya said as she opened her wall locker and dug into it.
Cian waited.
"Can't say I went through the same amount of trouble you definitely didn't go through." Inaya said pointedly as she pulled a book out of her locker. "But, either way, here. It's…well, I probably should have asked, but I figured you might want a change of pace with a different kind of history…yeah, it was a wild guess, so sorry if you don't like it."
Cian accepted the book from her. It was a hefty volume, the cover sleeve depicting a black and white collage of long-haired musicians on stage thrashing to unheard music.
"Lightyears of Loud: A Headbanger's History of Metal in the Inner Sphere by Santiago Alvarez"
It was a genre of history Cian had never really considered learning more about. It definitely would be new, and Inaya was right. It would be a nice change of pace.
Cian narrowed his eyes, putting on a sly look. "You got me this so you could borrow it and read it yourself, didn't you?"
Inaya's eyes widened, nostrils flaring. "Wh-What? That's…how could…?!"
Cian failed to contain a snrk of laughter.
"Ugh, you are the fucking worst!" Inaya hissed, batting at him, but there was no real fire in her rebuke.
"It's perfect, Chief. Really. And thoughtful." Cian said, looking down at the cover again. "You know, you're the first person other than Svik to actually buy me a present like this." He had told Inaya about the butler and his role in Cian's life. "Thank you. I mean it."
"I'm glad you like it." Inaya said with a long, reassured breath out. Her eyes flicked down to the book. "But, uh, you know…if you're willing when you're done with it…"
"You'll be the first to know." Cian promised.
"Good." Inaya said.
They stood there in silence. Maybe it was the alcohol and the general cheer of the evening. Maybe it was because Inaya was just about the loveliest person Cian had ever laid eyes on. One way or another, Cian recalled Vishali's words from a few days ago.
We've got to grab what happiness we can, while we can. As we can all see, tomorrow is never promised.
"Chief." Cian said.
"Hm?" Inaya's response was almost immediate.
"I'm thinking that I really want to kiss you right now." Cian told her.
Inaya didn't respond to that with words. As if she'd been waiting for an excuse, she grabbed Cian by the front of his sweater, tilted her head down the necessary couple of inches, then pulled him into a kiss, the warmth of it contrasted by the two cold points of her lip rings. Though initially taken aback, Cian leaned into it after a moment, putting his arms around her. Cian's head felt like it was spinning, the rest of him feeling weightless and timeless all at once. The faintest hint of machine oil and grease could be detected on Inaya beneath sage perfume.
They broke apart after what felt like far too short a period of time, but Cian had been forgetting to breathe, so inhaled deeply. His lips felt suddenly cold. Before him, Inaya was trembling.
"Are you alright?" Cian asked, trying to collect himself.
"Yeah. Yeah, I'm…very alright." Inaya breathed. She then pointed at Cian, thudding her index finger against his chest. "You know what, fuck it. Fuck waiting for the next shore leave and an 'actual first date' and whatever. Galaport was a date and you're my boyfriend now, got it?" Her face was almost as red as her hair now.
"That does sound like me." Cian concurred.
"Unless you don't want to be. Obviously" Inaya added, losing a little steam.
"No, pretty sure I do." Cian insisted.
"Damn right, you do." Inaya said, then a moment later she had Cian against the door frame, kissing him fiercely, like he might not get the point if she didn't drive it home properly. Cian was, as one could imagine, not complaining.
When Inaya finally released Cian, the MechWarrior was in a daze. The primordial, instinctive side of his brain was telling him to take Inaya around the waist and haul her to the bed right then and there. The actually sensible side was telling him that this was already leaps and bounds beyond what he'd been expecting to happen tonight, and he recalled Vishali's words about patience. So maybe it was a little more than common sense after all.
"Wow..." Was all Cian could think to say.
"As much as I want to spend the rest of the evening doing this, we should probably get back. I've got a plate of cookies waiting for me." Inaya said, quickly trying to fix somewhat mussed up hair.
"Great thing is, there's plenty of other evenings to look forward to where we can do just what you're saying." Cian pointed out.
"Damn straight." Inaya said. She threaded her fingers through those on Cian's flesh and blood hand. "Now, you'd better leave your book in your room so we can go back and tear the bandage off while pretty much everyone's in one place. And brace yourself. Something tells me those assholes are going to give us hell for this."
Cian looked down at Inaya's hand holding his. He could practically feel the adrenaline pumping beneath her skin.
"I say let them." Cian replied. "They'll have to work really damn hard to ruin this for me."
"Agreed." Inaya said, nodding to him.
In spite of what the MechTech had said, she kissed Cian one last time, giggled happily to herself, then began leading him back the way they had come. Cian, in what he sensed was going to be a growing trend, was more than happy to be led.