Chapter 24: Bringdom
March 11, 3026
Aurigan Directorate
High Orbit over Fjaldr
Donavan slid into the customary booth across from Sumire with a laden cafeteria tray. He wasn't hungry after the carnage he'd witnessed down on Fjaldr, but he needed the energy.
"Well that was a mess," he said as he forked a piece of pasta.
"But we got the job done," replied Sumire evenly. "And for what it's worth, I think you made the right choice with the Archer, too. I'm not fond of what those people did to us, but the supply line has already been helpful, and the Archer will keep you off the front line."
Donavan nodded. "Thank you. And to be clear, I do value your opinion quite highly, both professionally and personally." She smiled slightly as he continued. "That brings us to our next target, Bringdom. I've asked Lord Madeira to give us a briefing in an hour. Would you care to join us?"
"Of course."
"Good. Then that leaves me until then to think about something other than work. Speaking of, I was impressed by the tournament you put together. How in the galaxy did you get T-shirts made? And how did I not know you were so good in the simulator?"
Sumire's smile turned into a grin. "You wouldn't catch me dead inside a real 'Mech, but I've been playing simulator games since I was a kid. And while your 'Mech jocks can keep up with me in the simulator, I've got an open invitation to anyone who thinks they have a chance against me in a strategy game."
"Now that," said Donavan, pointing with his fork, "sounds like a challenge."
…
"Lord Madeira," said Donavan more formally than usual. "Thank you for joining us." He stood in the briefing room where Darius, Yang, Farah, and Sumire sat. A separate vid screen had been set up so Miranda could watch from the med bay. "I understand that we are underway to our next target, Bringdom. If you would?" He gestured and then sat as Alexander Madeira stood before the group. "Thank you, Commander Melodan." He tapped a command into the display and it popped to life showing a lush, vibrantly green planet.
"This is Bringdom of the Bringdom system, along the coreward edge of the Aurigan Directorate and the rimward edge of the Capellan Confederation. It's a relatively high-gravity world with a lush, humid, tropical climate, which makes it ideal for some forms of agriculture. It is only lightly colonized by farmers both because of the gravity and its very dense, nearly unbreathable atmosphere. According to our sources, the only Directorate presence is a single platoon of infantry primarily there to organize a militia if needed."
He paused to invite questions and Donavan raised a hand.
"Why so little defense? Aren't they worried the Capellans will just walk in and take it? I mean, a planet's a planet, even if it's only got farmers."
"A fair question, but the answer is simple economics. The high gravity is more than an inconvenience – it also significantly increases fuel costs to get back off the planet. There is also little in the way of accessible mineral resources, and no practical way to manufacture fuel on-planet. Simply put, the planet can provide little but food, and it's more expensive to haul the food off-planet than it is to buy it somewhere else.
Darius nodded, then Sumire spoke up. "So is this like Fjaldr again? A symbolic victory more than a tactical one?"
"Yes and no," answered Alexander. "We do want to keep the pressure on the Directorate with a string of victories, but there is also a practical reason. The situation on Panzyr continues to deteriorate, and shipping in food from the Magistracy is growing increasingly expensive and severely hampering the Restoration's logistical capacity. Any food that can be shipped from Bringdom would be food that didn't have to be shipped halfway across the periphery."
"While also reducing Lady Arano's dependence on the Magistracy," added Sumire, and Lord Madeira nodded. "Precisely."
"That's all well and good," pointed out Donavan, "but while 'Mechs are good at a lot of things, actually holding territory isn't one of them. So we deal with the infantry – then what?"
"Lady Arano is dispatching a DropShip with Aurigan ground troops to hold the largest outpost, as well as take the prisoners from Fjaldr off your hands."
"Sounds simple enough."
"We can only hope, Commander. Any other questions?" There were none, and the meeting adjourned.
March 28, 3026
Aurigan Directorate
Bringdom
Donavan was glad to be out of the cold, but Bringdom had its own, unique brand of misery to inflict on its inhabitants. He lay naked except for his shorts and an oxygen mask lying in a field cot already soaked through with sweat. The heat was bad, but the humidity sucked away energy, and the gravity made it worse. Every movement was heavy and leaden, and without careful attention it was far too easy to fall flat on your face trying to walk.
Just breathing was difficult, a fact which the locals, who didn't bother with oxygen masks and were built massive enough to make Behemoth look small, found endlessly amusing.
Donavan found it impossible to sleep, as he woke up every few minutes from a nightmare he was being crushed to death, so he'd set his people up in brief rotations dirtside in the Locusts. At least there hadn't been any casualties this time. The Directorate Forces had surrendered without a shot, and most looked hopeful that they might get a ticket offworld.
Two more days, he told himself, just two more days.
Unexpectedly, the comms buzzed. He groaned and forced himself to reach for the nearby table. "Wolf here."
"Wolf, it's your good friend Cyclone. Fancy meeting you here."
Donavan sat up, then felt lightheaded as the blood rushed to his feet, then lay back down. "What do you want?"
"I've got another job for you, if you're interested."
Donavan grimaced. "What could there possibly be to interest you here?"
"My, my, your intel isn't the best, is it? There are all sorts of interesting things on Bringdom. The local powers that be, or should I say, were, weren't very interested in making aggressive patrols. I can't imagine why," she mused sarcastically. "And lots of people are interested in places nobody else bothers to look. So, do I have your attention?"
"I'm listening."
…
"So that's it," said Donavan an hour later, devoutly wishing he was with the rest of the command team on the Argo rather than stuck down on the surface. "Cyclone has offered us two jobs. One is to clean out another group of pirates so she can claim their territory, and the other is that she claims there's a Directorate base down here so secret that most of the Directorate doesn't know about it. She wants us to hit it both to stop them from snooping on her, and I think to take their landing pad for her own use. Yang, you have to feel this gravity to believe it, and even the Locusts are struggling to move. Is it even possible to operate down here?"
Yang considered thoughtfully for a moment. "The 'Mechs are loaded right up to the point their engines can handle. We can strip off some armor to lighten them up, but the bigger the 'Mech, the longer that will take. And the increased strain will be exponentially more of a problem for the heavier 'Mechs. I can get the lights ready for you in a day or so, and maybe the Phoenix Hawk which is just a little heavier, but that's it, boss."
"Team? Thoughts?"
"Going in that light means no room for error – we're going to get hurt," pointed out Behemoth. "We should do the more important one first, because unless we get a lot luckier than we have been, we won't be able to do both.
"An excellent point," said Donavan, nodding warmly to her screen. He was relieved to see her still engaged. "Given the circumstances, I'm inclined to hit the Directorate first."
Darius raised a hand. "Maybe I'm biased here, but we're putting a lot of faith in Cyclone's intel. Things have worked out so far, and we've made her a lot of money, but how much would the Directorate pay to put us out of commission?"
"On an MRB contract?" asked Sumire, and Darius shrugged. "She's a pirate, and we're a hell of a long way out in the Periphery. It's happened to us before."
Donavan tapped his fingers in thought. "That's a valid concern, but I'm inclined to trust her, at least for now. Pirates can make a killing during wars, but not on the front lines themselves, and the battles are right in her backyard. She's been taking the long view, which makes us more valuable to her as a resource than a one-time payment.'
"So far," added Darius.
"So far, yes. On the other hand, we're not in any hurry. Lady Arano is still building up her forces, so slow and steady progress is the name of the game. That means we can afford to heal up for a bit on the Argo and take a real close look at the coordinates Cyclone gave us whenever we orbit over it. And if we're taking apart the 'Mechs anyway, Yang, we should consider making some alterations."
The Capellan's eyes lit up with equal parts excitement and wariness. "What kind of modifications are we talking, boss?"
"I'm sure we'll come up with something."
…
"Kevin!" called out Yang to the young pilot who stood looking up at his assigned Locust in the 'MechBay. "What are you doing down here?"
Kevin looked down as the lead 'MechTech joined him in front of the 'Mech. "I've been thinking, Mr. Yang. I'm getting more comfortable piloting this thing, but when I hear the others talk… it feels like they know every last part of their 'Mechs, how they work, and I don't."
"First, please kid, don't ever call me 'Mr. Yang' again." He shuddered. "And let me tell you, the 'Mech jockeys talk a good game, but it's a rare 'Mech Warrior that knows enough to actually be helpful in the 'Mech Bay. But if you want to learn, hey, I'm happy to help. And you've already got a great friend for that - Muqin. If she weren't so good as a pilot I'd keep her down here as an As'Tech."
"But where do I even start?"
"I'd start with a 'Mech's heart, the fusion engine." He tapped the 'Mech's armored foot. "Inside this machine is an LTV 160 designed specifically for the Locust by Ling-Temco-Vought and licensed by Bergan Industries when they concepted the 'Mech all the way back in 2499. And in my humble opinion, the fusion engine is by far the most impressive part of any 'Mech."
Kevin glanced at Yang in surprise. "The engine? What makes you say that?"
"I know it can be hard to imagine these days, but the fusion engine was a game changer when it came out. The big breakthrough was when they switched from running on the heavier hydrogen isotopes of Deuterium and Tritium to the lighter Protium. That made the reaction more stable, more efficient, and a hell of a lot cheaper. This baby can run on a few kilograms of hydrogen for decades before needing to refuel. They made energy weapons practical and gave BattleMechs effectively unlimited range, so long as the pilot holds up."
"But aren't they dangerous? asked Kevin with a hint of anxiety. "Putting nuclear reactors into combat systems seems kind of risky."
Yang waved a hand dismissively. "That's a common misconception, but it's actually safer than riding around on a tank full of diesel. I mean, you can kill yourself if you override the safeties and over-rev it so hard it explodes, but that's a pressure explosion, not a nuclear detonation."
"So if an autocannon round punctured the fusion engine…"
"Then you'd be dead," replied Yang evenly. "Fusion engines use a vacuum chamber to hold the plasma, and if that gets cracked then air rushes in, expands in the super-heated interior, and expands. Violently. But that's rare - most of the engine's weight is in the tungsten carbide shell around the engine, which almost always buys the few milliseconds it takes for the safety systems, or straight-up failure of the containment coils keeping the reaction going, to get the reaction shut down before anything goes nuclear. Trust me - there are a hundred ways you'll die in a 'Mech before a nuclear explosion gets you."
Kevin didn't seem reassured by this, and Yang laughed. "See? You're learning already."
March 29, 3026
Aurigan Directorate
High Orbit over Fjaldr
Dekker forced himself to sit upright in the command couch of the Phoenix Hawk by force of will and tried not to think about what would happen if he had to use the jumpjets in this gravity. Instead he hit his comms.
"Lance, Dekker. We're getting close – readiness check."
"Medusa, ready to get off this rock," he said with evident frustration.
"Farmboy, ready," added Kevin, who thankfully seemed to be taking his cues more from Dekker than Medusa.
And that was it, though Dekker grimly. A Phoenix Hawk and two Locusts against a Directorate Base. That should be enough of a place relying so heavily on secrecy, but it was a lot easier to rely on 'should' in the briefing room on the Argo then down on the ground. But for the moment, there was nothing else for it but to press ahead and see what there was to see.
That was his normal job, but he'd discovered that not having heavier backup available made a difference… and what made an even bigger difference was how fat and slow he felt. Light 'Mechs relied on speed as their primary defense, and right now he was painstakingly walking through the tree lines, and even that made his fusion engine strain. Worse still, the 'trees' he was wading through were squat, extremely thick chunks of wood too short to offer any cover, and practically designed to trip up any unwary 'Mech. It was like trying to walk through a field of tree stumps while blindfolded! if there were any fixed defenses that spotted them first…
…
Donavan watched the icons representing Dekker's lance with almost as much anxiety as Dekker felt, and accompanied by a dash of powerlessness. Nobody in their right mind would put tanks down there, he told himself for at least the tenth time this morning. They would have extremely limited range and break down constantly. But if the Directorate had done it anyway, Dekker would be in trouble. But they wouldn't have, because they need every resource they can pull together… unless it was too expensive to pull them out?
He stood with his arms crossed doing his best to keep a confident expression on his face while worry danced behind his eyes.
…
"Empty," reported Dekker into his comms with mingled relief and disgust. He sat on top of the Phoenix Hawk to avoid the oven that was his cockpit with his shirt off for the hint of relief it provided in the sweltering afternoon heat.
"It's been abandoned for a while from the look of things. There's some stuff still out here, but it's mostly bulky things that would be hard to pull out. The landing pad is still in good shape. I think we're–"
"Dekker," interrupted Sumire suddenly. "We're picking up something on sensors. It's on a direct approach to your location. Breaking off pickup."
Dekker slid down into the cockpit, his bare thighs past his shorts burning on the hot metal, and quickly pulled the neurohelmet over sweaty hair. "Lance, Dekker, eyes up, we've got incoming."
"Uh, what?" asked Medusa incredulously. "I've got nothing."
"Sumire picked it up. I don't have anything yet either, give me a minute." He considered their options. He had to assume whoever it was was hostile, as there weren't any friendly forces on the planet. They could probably run, but that would make the entire mission a loss. The base didn't offer much in defensive positions, but that didn't mean there were no possibilities…
…
Jean Cliverson was not having a good day. He was hot, tired, he hated this friggin' planet, and if Lieutenant Henderson hadn't been riding his ass the last week for one little bar fight he'd have already been transferred off this rock and hopefully to a place with better pickings. His makeshift uniform of threadbare surplus military fatigues were completely soaked with sweat, and his rifle was like a lead weight on his shoulder. At least he'd managed to 'lose' his single-fire anti-tank rocket before they started this pointless exercise in misery.
He looked up from the dirt trail and held up a hand to block the sun as he squinted into the distance, where he could just make out buildings. That had to be it - the landing pad that spelled escape.
But it was still one hell of a long walk. He glanced with pure, unadulterated envy at the men lounging in the handful of open-topped troop transport trucks, grunted, the input his head down and kept walking.
It took the better part of two hours to reach the base, by which time the sun was setting and the temperature was thinking about coming down. The bad news was it had also rained in a brief but torrential downpour. Steam floated off his head and chest, and Jean was certain he'd never been more miserable in his life.
But at least they'd made it. There wasn't much to the base, just a landing pad, a decent-sized hangar, and a couple smaller buildings that had to be living quarters and a command center. The group's two working Galleon light tanks rolled in, followed closely by the transports as everyone was ready to be done with this.
Jean took his first step onto the tarmac as the hangar exploded. That's what it seemed like, anyway, and he staggered back two full steps. A BattleMech stepped out of the hangar, guns blazing, and Jean felt a sudden and profound regret for throwing away that rocket.
…
Dekker relaxed marginally as the Locusts cleared the hangar and spread out. The most dangerous moment was when they were penned in together, but as he'd hoped, the attackers had been completely surprised. They'd focused fire on the two tanks which had been in rough shape to begin with and gone down quickly.
He grimaced as a medium laser from one of the transports burned off armor from his torso and redirected his weapons as ground troops scattered like ants before him.
…
Jean lay flat on the ground in the bare concealment of one of Bringdom's stunted trees, fighting the stunning impact of surprise and so much destruction while exhaustion dragged at his mind. He could never have imagined the sheer terror of having a house-sized death machine hunting him down on foot.
An enormous crunch behind him broke through his paralysis and he rolled over onto his back just in time to see a Locust's leg coming down directly on top of him.
March 30, 3026
Aurigan Directorate
High Orbit over Bringdom
Donavan was more than happy to be done with Bringdom and on to their next assignment. He sat in the briefing room trying to ignore how sore he felt all over. Dekker looked just as exhausted as he felt, but he stood at attention as he wrapped up his report to the leadership team, including Behemoth who was ambulatory, if still gingerly.
"In conclusion, the base had been abandoned for some time, the attacking force was the pirate group Cyclone hired us to engage attempting to abandon the planet, and our analysis of the remains of the base computer systems conducted before we turned the base over to Cyclone's people indicates that the base was a Directorate facility that at some point received instructions directly from Victoria Espinosa, but we have no indication of what those orders were, or where the base personnel or equipment went. The pirates were effectively destroyed, with the survivors turned over to the locals, and minor damage to the 'Mechs."
"Thank you, Dekker," said Donavan with total sincerity. "That was an excellent job down there. Now get some rest, you've more than earned it." The 'MechWarrior nodded and left the briefing room of the Argo, and Donavan turned to Alexander.
"So, I understand we've got our next assignment?"
The Aurigan nodded slightly and stood to tap commands into the projector system, and a nasty-looking planet popped into existence.
"Indeed we have," said Alexander. "This is Ichlangis, an airless, waterless, and frigid planet. Formerly a Capellan world, it supports a significant titanium mining operation in the open fissures in the planet's crust., as well as a small contingent of specialized armored vehicles to defend it."
Yang cocked his head to one side. "No atmosphere? That's specialized, alright, and expensive as hell. Sealed and pressurized cabin, specialized engines, and that's just to start. This must be a real operation for that kind of investment."
"I'm sure part of it is political," added Sumire thoughtfully. "This is the border with the Capellans and one jump from the Taurians, to boot. They've got to project they're more trouble than they're worth to the neighbors."
"Precisely," agreed Alexander, inclining his head briefly to his fellow noble. "Which also presents a challenge. The last thing Lady Kamea - and the Magistracy, for that matter - wants is for the Confederation to get involved, which means those tank units need to remain as intact as possible."
Donovan frowned. "How exactly are we supposed to take over the planet without taking out the defenders?"
Lord Madeira tapped another command into the display and the view of the planet was replaced by two people. "This, he said, pointing to a strong-jawed, improbably handsome man with gray just beginning to pepper his close-cropped hair, "is Lord Kornan Salgado, cousin by marriage to Santiago Espinosa. He was appointed commander shortly after the coup. This," he said, pointing to the woman on the right, "is Captain Carter." She was Salgado's opposite, short and powerfully built where he was tall and thin, with a rough-around-the-edges working uniform to his finely tailored dress uniform. Her only non-utilitarian consideration was her midnight black hair which she wore long in a ponytail.
"Captain Carter was promoted from within the garrison to command it during Lord Arano's time. Our read is that Carter is competent and more interested in defending the Reach than who's in charge, meaning if you can eliminate Salgado, we believe Carter will accept the change without protest."
Yang eyed Madeira skeptically. "And if she doesn't?"
The young lord shrugged. "If she doesn't, then things get messy and you'll need to keep looking until you find someone who's more… flexible."