[Agent Paper]
[Tharkad, the Triad]
[November 22nd, 3027]
When Agent Paper stepped off the dropship onto Tharkad at the tail end of November, the biting cold of the Lyran Commonwealth's capital planet did little to distract him from the weight of his mission. With Agent Rock–now sporting strawberry blonde hair instead of her usual chestnut-brown–following on his heels, the MIIO Agent clutched the secured, Verigraph-locked package to his side. After a relatively short drive from the Triad's military spaceport, he made his way through layers of security and protocol before being directed to the Lyran Intelligence Corps' primary offices when it was made clear that he was to deliver the contents directly to Archon Katrina Steiner herself.
The contents of the package, unknown even to himself, were of undeniable strategic importance... especially when the Archon's measured countenance turned into one of carefully constrained excitement— the immediate flurry of activity among her advisors confirmed it further. Within moments the debriefing room, once full of dozens of LIC personnel, was now completely bereft of everyone except himself, Agent Rock, and the Chancellor of Lyran Intelligence himself.
"Congratulations on completing your mission, Agent Paper, Agent Rock." It took everything he had to not stare at the Scandinavian beauty that was Katrina Steiner, with her long, flowing straw blonde hair, finely sculpted facial features, and chilling ice-blue eyes. "You do the Federated Suns a credit; I'm sure that Quintus Allard and First Prince Hanse Davion are likewise pleased with your performance."
"Just like the L.I.C., we are only performing our duties to our homeland to the best of our abilities, Ma'am." He wished he had a bottle of water to sip from right now because after spending months trapped on Helm and then many more months trapped on jumpships making the clandestine journey to Tharkad, he was feeling rather parched... and oh boy was the Archon a fine glass of water.
The Archon hadn't received them in her Throne Room within the Triad for a variety of rather obvious reasons, so instead they were within the bowels of the Lyran Intelligence Corps main office in the Triad. However, despite the rather dour location for this meeting, along with the stark walls and lackluster furnishings that Agent Paper wouldn't have expected to see in a Lyran debriefing room, the Archon still managed to look like the veritable queen she was while seated in a rather plain cloth office chair. Still, despite the circumstances, Agent Paper needed to maintain his professional demeanor, because the Chancellor of the Lyran Intelligence Corps was staring right at him. The man looked like the hellish Cerberus while his Lady Archon shifted through sheaves of thick paper that had been rolled up in the Verigraph-sealed messenger tube he and Agent Rock had been carrying with them through their journey.
She hummed as she read. Then paused before biting her thumb. Then she flipped back to the previous sheets before returning to the current one she was reading. "I am certain that after your arduous mission on Helm, and the subsequent journey to deliver this information to me you were both looking forward to returning to New Avalon for some R&R?"
Agent Paper expected a quick turnaround. With his mission accomplished, he assumed he and his partner, Agent Rock, would return to New Avalon for much-needed rest. Their recent success in recovering the Helm Brian Cache—a treasure trove of advanced Star League military equipment and the far more important memory core—had been nothing short of monumental. He would have hoped that he and Agent Rock would have gotten some relaxation time to decompress, but the leading way she phrased her question didn't give him any warm and fuzzy feelings.
"After more than a year on the move it would be a falsehood to say that we were not looking forward to getting a small break," Paper swallowed lightly and hedged his response carefully; he was the Senior Agent in Charge so all Rock had to do was sit there and look suitably professional. "But as Agents of MIIO and servants of our Prince, we are always ready to accept follow-on assignments as he commands."
"Then please accept my apologies and condolences in advance, because with this information I believe that your R&R plans are Dead on Arrival." The final sheet of paper was peeled away from the stack before she placed it on the table between them and slid it over. "I have need of your experience and talents, and it appears that Hanse Davion has anticipated me because, for the foreseeable future, you and Agent Rock have been assigned to me."
He kept his face impassive as he leaned forward and placed two fingers on the sheet before dragging it closer so that he could read it. It was the standard cardstock that all official MIIO assignments— those that actually had a paper trail— and was slightly curled from being rolled up, and the letterhead, format, and seals were all in their proper place. He read the contents of the re-assignment. Then he read them again.
Down at the very bottom was the signature of both Quintus Allard, the Minister of MIIO, and that of the First Prince himself.
Of course, it was moot because he'd had the tube in his possession the entire time and he was sitting right in front of the Archon when she opened it up, but that didn't mean there wasn't a small part of his mind that wasn't hoping... nay... praying that the First Prince hadn't proactively denied his R&R and reassigned him and Agent Rock to spend the foreseeable future working under the 'auspices' of LIC.
Agent Rock forced a pleasant smile. "When do we start, Archon Steiner?"
Apparently, they were starting very fucking soon.
Paper and Rock had gotten a whole twenty-four hours of fine food, fine drink, and even finer non-spin grav sleep in plush, comfortable beds before they were balled up and shuttled back to the basement of the LIC HQ.
As it turned out, the information that Agent Rock and himself had transported across the Inner Sphere from New Avalon to Tharkad was a very long list of potential LosTech finds that might possibly rival the Helm Field Library in military assets. Of course, the Lyran Intelligence Corps had already thought to start combing through the Helm Memory Core in search of leads on possible SLDF military bases and supply depots— as they weren't incompetent like SAFE— the list provided by Arthur Corean had given them targets to narrow down. Targets that they wanted the field experience of Agent Rock and himself to help them find; to date neither the LIC nor MIIO had actually had the pleasure of finding LosTech despite all of their knowledge and information since before the fall of the Star League.
No. All of them ended up being found by unscrupulous mercenary units or plucky, down-on-their-luck explorers who ended up stumbling across the caches— sometimes quite literally— before either selling it to the highest bidder and retiring or trading it into the nobility for land and a fancy title. So the fact that it had been MIIO who found Helm while working off of an industrialist CEO's father's half-formed musings about possible locations that were more often than not pieced together from centuries-old new articles or 'tell-all memoirs' from SLDF Generals was rather confounding.
For both MIIO and LIC.
The information that was provided in the documentation given to the First Prince was sparse, but it had just enough detail to give any analyst worth their salt into the ballpark. When combined with all of the LIC's centuries of spy reports on the SLDF and the contents of the Helm Memory Core? Well, it certainly gave a lot of people some hope that they could actually find the next Helm Brian Cache, so the analyst pits were a flurry of activity as almost a hundred men and women ran around like chickens with their heads cut off— arms laden with boxes of paperwork and half-full cups of coffee.
As it turned out, the First Prince had given Archon Steiner carte blanche to make use of Paper and Rock however she saw fit, and while he had hoped that she would toss them into that pit of madness before him to shuffle paperwork... his hopes had been dashed.
He and Rock would be split up and paired off with a Norn— an Agent who worked analysis within Lyran Intelligence— as part of a new joint intelligence initiative. This 'team-building' exercise aimed to foster cooperation between the Federated Suns' MIIO and the LIC. Officially, it was framed as a step toward stronger ties in preparation for the upcoming union of the Federated Commonwealth. Unofficially, Agent Paper suspected ulterior motives. Perhaps the LIC wanted to better understand their MIIO counterparts, or perhaps MIIO sought to ensure the LIC's infamous overzealous tendencies didn't spiral out of control. The LIC's reputation—largely stemming from its more aggressive LOKI division—was well-known, and not always in the most flattering terms.
When it came to LOKI, a work day that ended in only double-digit body counts amongst the local civilian populace of an operational area was considered a smashing success; to them, no amount of non-com casualties was too high as long as their mission was accomplished.
There was no doubt that Paper had some reservations about this, but with the signature of the First Prince himself on his orders and his own sense of duty sitting heavily on his shoulders, there was nothing else he could do except nod his head and accept the new assignment. Besides, while nerve-wracking, the mission to Helm had been both thrilling and fulfilling, and if there was another opportunity to be a part of the next Helm Cache find then he wanted to be in on it. He might make Director of one of the M's before he turned forty with another feather in his cap like that.
Still, as much as she grated on his nerves from time to time, he had to admit that he was rather reluctant to part with Agent Rock. She'd been with him for almost four years now of clandestine operations in the service of the Federated Suns, and while she could sometimes be too damn cheery for her own good he had to admit that her positivity had gotten him through more than a few rough patches. Those days of staring at the glass bottles in the liquor cabinets of his modest three-bedroom home with only his teenage son to keep the bleakness at bay.
Those dark days when he started to question what it was all for and whether or not his duties to the Federated Suns were worth further cleaving him and his son apart...
Regardless, Agent Paper had been paired up with a Norn analyst who was, allegedly, certified for work as a field agent, but during their refamiliarization training with the standard Lyran equipment for expeditionary operations, she was rather clumsy.
Agent Valerie Swan, or "Val" as she preferred to be known, was a rather unique personality. When surrounded by mountains of paperwork she seemed to be in her element— calm and serene on the surface, with a frosty air of professionalism. Paper was quick to notice that she had a blistering intellect, and was quickly able to parse disparate data, factoids, and the centuries-old hand-jammed notes between the pages of old LIC reports; more often than not her analysis was proved to be spot on, even after other analysts used Arthur Corean's information and the Helm Memory Core's contents to spot-check her findings.
The sexy librarian look she rocked, with her midnight black hair pulled up into a tight bun and her bottle-green eyes half-hidden behind horn-rimmed glasses certainly made it easier for Paper to get to know her.
Yet, for all of the extreme proficiency at desk-flying, despite being 'certified', the woman seemed to struggle with the basics of fieldwork.
They spent two weeks undergoing survival training for the environments that they would be expected to encounter, with two of the three targets being lifeless rocks with either a poisoned atmosphere or lethal levels of radiation if unprotected, and she did not like being cooped up in a protective suit for all hours of the day. Paper found it rather ironic since when the Archon asked Paper and Rock which targets they would like to hit… it was Agent Val who had chosen their team's targets; Paper himself was ambivalent because he didn't really care where he was going at this point.
He just wanted to get going.
And eventually, they did.
The two MIIO and LIC pairs had three targets each, and while Paper didn't know where Rock and her partner, a rather excitable younger analyst by the name of Herich Faust, were going, he knew that for their first two stops, it would be anything but 'fun'.
Their first mission together took them to Afleir, a world so dead that it wasn't even listed in the public star charts anymore.
Once a vital part of the Terran Hegemony, Afleir had been annexed by the Lyran Commonwealth in 2786 after the Star League's collapse. The planet's rich mineral deposits and burgeoning industry made it a valuable acquisition for the Federation of Skye, a province within the Commonwealth. Afleir thrived briefly under its new rulers until 2820 when the Free Worlds League launched an assault to claim it for themselves at the tail end of the 1st Succession War; given the horrendous acts of the Free Worlds League against the planet it was a wonder how the Peace Accord of Bella I was signed at all.
The conflict was brutal. Lyran defenders resisted fiercely, forcing the Marik Militia to reconsider their strategy as their attempts at matching the Lyrans ton-for-ton in open combat were proven to be... less than viable. When it became clear that taking the planet would require unacceptable losses, the Mariks resorted to their infamous scorched-earth tactics. Tactical nuclear warheads rained down on Afleir's population centers, obliterating its manufacturing hubs and reducing vibrant cities to radioactive rubble. Though many civilians survived the initial bombardment, the destruction of the planet's infrastructure left little reason to stay. Over time, Afleir's remaining population dwindled, and its once-thriving surface was abandoned to desolation.
While Agent Paper very well knew the stakes for these missions, it was really driven home just how important they were when they made it to the jump point on their modified LIC Leopard. Waiting for the two teams were the Will-O-Wisp and the Invisible Man, though their transponders had different names and ID tags attached to them. They were a pair of Star League vintage Scout-class jumpships that were heavily modified, with each one bearing a Lithium Fusion battery that allowed it to jump twice within just 48 hours. More notable was that the 127 tons of unnecessary heatsinks that was a carry-over from the original design had been removed— replaced with additional fuel and cargo space. They had an incredibly low emergence signature for their KF Drives, making them hard to spot for all but the most experienced and attentive monitoring crews, and their fusion batteries made them a perfect fit for these clandestine operations.
It was enough to drive home the amount of wealth that the Commonwealth had at their disposal because he didn't think that there were more than a dozen jumpships in the whole of the Federated Suns that still had a lithium fusion battery. Regardless, their inclusion provided an additional layer of security to their operations, because unlike other jumpships that had only enough thrust to keep themselves from being pulled in toward the star, the Scout could achieve 0.8gs. If they were intercepted by any unknowns they could point their nose toward the planet and burn toward them, giving them enough time to pack up their expedition and plot an intercept toward a pre-chosen jump point where they would RV and jump to safety.
The only downside was that the Scout was too small to have a gravity deck, and that meant their travel time was almost exclusively spent in zero-g while they waited for their jumpsails to charge their drives.
By the time Agent Paper and Agent Val arrived at Afleir, centuries had passed since the nuclear strikes. The planet's atmosphere, though still tainted with low levels of radiation, was deemed safe enough for brief expeditions inside of their protected suites. Their Leopard served as their base of operations while the Prowler exploration vehicle provided to them acted as their steed; their suits were rated for a few dozen hours worth of exposure, and after that, they'd have to return to the ship to exchange them for new ones.
Stepping onto Afleir's barren surface, Agent Paper felt the weight of its history pressing down on him. With his helmet sealed he couldn't be sure, but he could just tell that the air was dry and thin— carrying an eerie stillness that seemed to amplify every sound they made. Every step seemed to echo while the winds that swirled around them whispered words of dreadful oblivion. It was slightly maddening, especially since Paper had never really thought of himself as the type of person for flowery internal monologues… yet seeing the devastation that surrounded him just brought something bubbling up to the surface.
He didn't know what 'it' was, but he hoped that they wouldn't be sticking around long enough for him to identify it.
The area surrounding their vehicle was a bombed-out hellscape of molted browns and washed-out greys; a rolling sea of nothing but dirt, rocks, and tenacious shrubs that had grown despite the centuries of high radiation. Truth be told it was a wonder that anything grew out here, especially since the shrubbery was so close to their current target of Kalid City; the half-melted spires of miraculously standing steel on the horizon were a stark reminder of the horrors of the 1st Succession War... and all that the Inner Sphere had lost since then.
Their search for hidden Star League facilities was methodical but yielded little. In the end, the pair had settled for trawling through the ancient ruins of the industrial districts, but the destruction left behind by the tactical warheads destroyed so much while the decay had eaten away at what was left. To their surprise, they had managed to find some underground bunkers, but exploring those dangerous ruins only led to collapsed tunnels. They checked off each location on Agent Val's list of places to look before eventually they reached the end and had to face the facts— if there was to be any sort of Lostech find, it wouldn't be here.
After two months of ceaseless work, both Paper and Val were feeling the strain, and even the skeleton crew of their dropship— void travelers well-learned in the art of doing nothing for large periods of time— were starting to get antsy. After compiling their report they buttoned their dropship up and headed back to the jump point where their pick-up was waiting to take them to their next mission.
He wanted to believe that their next job would be better, but having seen where they were going he knew it wouldn't be.
[Agent Paper]
[Killbourn]
[February 10th, 3028]
Landing on Killbourn felt like stepping into a graveyard of history— the planet, once a jewel of the Terran Hegemony, now lay under a toxic sky, its air still tainted despite the centuries that had passed.
After lamenting his return to purple prose, Agent Paper disembarked from a Leopard on foot alongside Agent Val.
They had decided to forego their Prowler because the dropship was able to land close enough to their first target. Clad in lighter environmental suits, these lacking the extra thick radiation shielding, Paper had to admit he was a lot more comfortable here than on Afleir; their suits sealed them off from the toxic atmosphere, but unlike Afleir where he could have gotten a lethal dose of radiation within minutes if there was a breach, it would take hours before he'd succumb to Killbourn's atmosphere. With the Leopard so close he could likely crawl back to safety— even with a pair of broken legs; he'd survive where thousands of SLDF soldiers had not.
Killbourn had been one of the very first worlds the Terran Alliance had settled with thoughts of mining its abundant mineral wealth. It was incredibly rich in iron, titanium, gold, and silver, but most importantly it had germanium and lots of it. The money that the planet brought in every month from raw material shipments made it well worth the inconvenience of having to wear a rebreather or full-face mask when walking around outside of the handful of domed colony towns that dotted the primary mining flats. The planet's importance was so great that the Department of Mega Engineering, the mythical DoME, decided that making Killbourn's atmosphere tolerable was a worthwhile investment. Their goal had initially been to make the whole planet's atmosphere breathable, but at the bare minimum, they believed that they could make at least local portions of the atmosphere livable without all of the heavy equipment.
They invested tens of billions into building massive, one-hundred-and-fifty-meter tall atmospheric processing towers which sucked in the toxic air and purified it while massive blowers created air currents that effectively trapped the clean air inside of the tower's radius. In the end, more than three dozen of the superstructures were built, dotting the landscape around the important mining regions, and while the towers certainly worked they didn't work nearly as well as they would have liked.
As it turned out, attempting to purify the entire atmosphere of a planet was a long and arduous task, with it estimated to take eight centuries for the project to complete itself.
It baffled Agent Paper that DoME thought they could get it done in just seventy-five years, but regardless of grand expectations and pipedreams, what the towers did accomplish was making the atmosphere clean enough for there to be dome-less towns and cities within ten kilometers of each tower, and that more than quadrupled the resource collection rate of the planet. According to Agent Val's analysis, the Killbourn project was actually one of the few DoME programs that ended up paying for itself and more by the time the Star League came into being.
However, good things didn't tend to last in the Inner Sphere. The Star League Civil War hit Killbourn and Amaris' Rim Worlds Republic forces stormed the planet, taking it over to secure vital raw materials to keep the newly formed Amaris Empire's factories operational.
Eventually, after nine years of slogging from one battle to the next, the Star League Defense Force managed to fight their way onto the planet, and equipped with almost three whole brigades worth of Battlemechs, Tanks, and Aerospace Fighters… they fought a bloody campaign across it. The RWR forces knew they couldn't hold the planet, so true to their directives from Stephan Amaris they began destroying the atmospheric processors as they retreated as both a scorched-earth and a delaying tactic. The SLDF had taken serious casualties in terms of both men and metal by this late point in the war, and most of their best vehicles— the ones that actually had environmental sealing— were long since destroyed. They were too far from their dropships to retreat, and since they were hot on the heels of the retreating Republican forces they decided that if they were going to die from exposure they were going to take the traitors down with them.
With the atmosphere having deleterious effects on most of their forces combined with the long-running battle, the 1971st Mechanized Infantry Brigade took heavy casualties from the hostile atmosphere. However, eventually, the Rim Worlds Republic and their Black Horse Carabineers Mercenary Brigade attached to them were cornered. Trapped at the end of the Marsath Canyon, they were forced to fight the remaining SLDF forces on an even playing field. Both sides eventually slaughtered each other virtually down to the last man. According to the records of the battle, only a few companies of infantry and a few lances of Battlemechs and tanks were able to survive, and that was only due to the daring landings by their dropship crews after the battle. Where they went afterward no one knew, but most surmised that they joined Kerensky's exodus.
By the end, Killbourn was less a planet and more a graveyard of war machines.
Fast forward to 2819, and House Marik and House Kurita began playing a game of tug-of-war over the contents of the graveyard itself. The battlefield was so vast that both sides scavenged for years on their own side before they even bumped into each other in the middle and naturally began fighting over the last scraps.
To Agent Paper's knowledge, it was one of the few planets that have the dubious honor of having the Combine and the League engage each other in direct conflict.
Now, centuries later, another group of people would be disturbing this hallowed resting place. Unlike the others though, Agent Paper and Agent Val weren't on Killbourn to scavenge the battlegrounds for the war machines; they were there for what might be hiding in the ruins of the cities and mines dotting the planet.
Besides, they had already done several flyovers of the site of the battlefield, and there wasn't much of anything left at all; the Killbourn Graveyard had been pretty much picked clean. So rather than spend their time trying to find useful items within the scrap they moved into the old cities and offices of defunct Terran Hegemony manufacturers. They spent two and a half months there slithering through the ruins and ended up uncovering some rather valuable historical artifacts from old Terra and the Star League, as well as some small data drives from computers that hadn't been corroded too badly after centuries of disuse. The number of finds was enough that when they sent their report to their jumpship they were advised to hold position while a larger and better-equipped expeditionary team came to replace them. To Agent Paper's surprise, it only took a week before another jumpship hopped into the system, and once cleared they took off and transmitted their search logs before heading out to their last assignment: Riken Minor.
[Agent Paper]
[Riken Minor]
[March 15th, 3028]
Once again, Agent Paper had adopted the guise of a voidborn crewmember on an extended vacation from jumpship duty, except this time he was once more married to his partner. The cover was becoming tiresome for Paper, but he played his part well, blending seamlessly into Riken Minor's local populace. Still, Paper had to admit that while he had started to miss Agent Rock, Agent Val had charms of her own, and that wasn't just because she actually played the 'husband and wife' role to the hilt.
He hadn't had sex in so long he'd forgotten just what exactly it felt like to have a beautiful, willing woman in his arms, and much to his satisfaction Val seemed to like his abilities well enough. It was a bit funny how not being stuck in a tin can for months on end while searching through lifeless hellscapes improved his libido, and given how readily she accepted his advances he knew she was feeling it too.
However, when playtime was over, they were once more focused. Their mission right now was to gather intelligence, and they did so with the finesse of seasoned operatives. They engaged in casual conversations, visited historical monuments dedicated to the Star League, and secured tickets to the Riken Minor History Museum of the Terran Hegemony. While Paper mingled and gathered human intelligence, Val was buried in her work, cross-referencing decades-old intelligence reports from both the Lyran Commonwealth and the Federated Suns with Star League documents. She was a paperwork hound, one that actually enjoyed the work, so he was content to let her be while he enjoyed Mai Tais and the unique experience of swimming in a salt-water sea on a low-gravity planet.
Regardless, the major breakthrough came not from bar room crawls with the locals but from an exhibit at the museum detailing the history of Riken Minor's lone SLDF facility— the Masterson Communications Relay Outpost, SLDF-CRO-113. According to the informational blurb on the museum display–a small diorama with old aerial still images–it was a small facility that barely had more than two hundred personnel manning it at its peak during the height of the Star League. This discovery had Agent Val damn near drag Paper back to the hotel room... both for a bout of rousing sex and also to start cross-referencing their information against the Masterson Comms relay.
In the end, Val thought that this was a lead worth chasing down, and after picking up a care package from the spaceport dropped off by a courier from their own jumpship, they checked out of the hotel, changed their identities, and began traveling.
And boy did they travel. A lot. By boat. Over a thousand kilometers of open ocean on a low-gravity world. While swimming in it had been rather fun, being in the back of a dinghy that he thought might sink at any moment was a rather nerve-wracking experience, and poor Val looked like she was going to toss up her cookies at every opportunity. It took a week of travel to get to the island chain off the coast of Naskia from Lesser Plateau, and once they made it to the primary island they had to adjust plans constantly as their journey was a mix of commercial travel and hitching rides with local fishermen across the Lesser Sea, leading them to the middling-sized fishing colony of New Grange.
From there, they adapted to the low-tech environment, taking a wagon train pulled by mules across the New Grange Plains to reach the mining colony of Forge. It was unfortunate that they couldn't pass on the ground any further, and due to the high sheer walls of the island the coast was out of the picture as well— the only way to progress was up the Cadastro River, and due to local superstitions about the ghost town of Cadastro no one was willing to take them upriver. So they did what any good intelligence agent did... and they stole a boat in the dead of night.
Once they arrived they could see why the locals thought the place had 'bad vibes'. Cadastro was once a thriving university town filled with life but was now virtually obliterated.
A lifeless husk where not a single structure taller than two meters was left standing.
Maybe if Agent Paper hadn't spent the last six months on two dead worlds much worse off than here he might have gotten the chills walking through it, but at this point, he and Val were pretty much immune to sights of vicious devastation.
Once through the town they used the peak of Mount Cadastro as their reference landmark and began circling around the island toward where the Masterson Communication's facility was said to be. The lands were rocky and filled with tall grasses, lichen, and a handful of coniferous trees that had been transplanted from Terra— the pines appreciating the crisp 16-degree year-round temperatures. After a full day of hiking, he was pleased to see that the small SLDF outpost was still there. While it had certainly seen better days, unlike Cadastro it was surprisingly intact, and he idly wondered if this garrison was one of the ones that surrendered to Amaris' forces when the surprise attacks struck the unprepared SLDF.
From their position up on the ridge, they pulled out a pair of electro-binoculars and began inspecting the site from afar.
Nestled in a C-shaped bowl cut into the mountainside, the facility was encircled by dilapidated chain-link fences topped with rusted razor wire. The buildings within were a dozen in count, varying in size, with the largest abutting a sheer rock face. What caught Paper's eye were the three large dropship pads, which upon inspection with electro-binoculars, revealed reinforced structures designed for heavy load dropships. Val's expertise confirmed these were not standard for such outposts, suggesting there was more to this place than a simple communication relay.
Those words got Paper's fingers tingling.
While they normally would have waited for the cover of night to begin their infiltration, since the area was long abandoned they decided that it was best to make use of their limited daylight and get started. So after tracing the lip of the bowl, careful of getting too close to the edge, they followed the exterior fence until they reached the long-decayed gates. They weren't too surprised to see that the place had already been stripped bare, with doors left open or bashed down and thick black skid marks from truck tires covering the concrete roads. Not even the furniture or light fixtures were left behind, and the conduits and their wiring were met with the same fate.
Even the largest and heaviest objects, like the fusion power plants that were essential for the outpost's operation, had been removed, and the thick steel gates that had protected the staircases to the communications dishes had been cut off their hinges. As much as he didn't want to make the trek up the stairs he knew he had to, and a cursory inspection revealed that anything small enough to be carried down the stairs on the dishes was missing.
Much like many other accessible SLDF facilities found since the fall of the Star League, everything had been thoroughly picked clean— even the things that had been nailed or bolted down.
Still, despite this, Agent Paper didn't feel too bothered by it, if only because after searching the entire base over the next two days they hadn't found anything that screamed 'secret passage' being left open to the elements to rust and decay from the salty air wafting off the Arabian Sea. The SLDF was rather famous for their penchant for squirreling away all sorts of hidden treasures, and most LosTech hunters didn't really care to preserve the facilities once they'd struck paydirt. That there hadn't been any Lyran ennobled from a find here to begin with told him that there was still something of value to be found here.
Finding something on Afleir and Killbourn had been, in Agent Paper's personal opinion, a bit of wishful thinking on Agent Val's part... even if her analysis pointed to there being a non-zero chance of valuable LosTech to be found. But here on Riken Minor? On this genuine Terran Hegemony, SLDF Communications outpost?
After his experience on Helm, he had a gut feeling that they were close to something, they just needed to find it.
So they began a more thorough, systematic search— the pair trawling through every building while on the lookout for signs of hidden compartments, secret tunnels, or anything that might hint at a cache or additional military installation.
The sun crested the jagged mountain peaks of Mount Cadastro, casting long shadows across the barren concrete expanse of the Masterson Communications Relay Outpost. For the last two days, Agent Paper and Agent Val had scoured every inch of the facility. The oppressive quiet of the abandoned base was broken only by the occasional whistling of the wind threading through the broken chain-link fences, and without any other souls around their footsteps seemed to echo back to them.
Agent Paper stirred a modest pot of stew over a portable burner, his eyes scanning the horizon for anything unusual since there wasn't much else to do; someone else might have used this break from their active searching to relax, but Paper was far too paranoid to do that. Most certainly not here out in the open; he made sure to keep his eyes peeled on the roads and buildings while he cooked. He could have cooked inside, but despite the cooler temperatures the stale, stagnate air of the buildings made him uncomfortable so he decided that sitting outside with the breeze was preferable.
The midday sun had reached its zenith, and while the breeze was nice the humidity still had him starting to sweat in his woolen hiking top.
While he cooked, Agent Val was inside the largest of the buildings, the Colonel P. Hetezer Communications Annex, continuing her exhaustive examination of the outpost's crumbling infrastructure. Personally, he thought they should be dedicating more of their time going over the outdoor portions of the facility again, because if there was going to be a hidden entrance to an underground storehouse of Battlemechs it wouldn't be in the former commanding officer's office closet. Yet Agent Val wanted to look everything over with her portable scanning equipment anyway, and since they had only been on the ground for barely two weeks he decided to let her do her thing; they had the time, and if they could spend four months on dead worlds then they could at least do the same here.
A flicker of movement caught his eye, and the ladle he was using to stir their meal 'clinked' lightly against the rim of the pot as his hand was filled with a Sunbeam laser pistol.
A muscular reptile roughly the size of a small dog poked its head around the corner of the barracks across the street, its glossy scales glinting green in the sunlight and forked tongue tasting the air.
"Son of a bitch," He whispered to himself, a crooked smile tugging at his lips. "Hey there little buddy. You smelled this stew didn't you?"
The interloper was a Goya lizard, a prized delicacy for the inhabitants of Riken Minor as its meat— while a touch stringy— was fatty and tender for a cool-blooded reptile. It supposedly tasted like chicken if cooked right, with stewing being the best method. Given he already had a stew cooking this situation was just too perfect.
"Heh. You came to see if you could snag some of this deliciousness, but instead..." Paper smirked as he flicked the safety off with his thumb and slowly raised it, "...You're going to join the other ingredients in the pot."
Only God knew that he'd welcome the additional protein, as he needed to keep up his strength given how enthusiastic Agent Val was when they were safely holed up in the old base commander's bedroom.
The little bastard was quick, however, skittering down the sidewalk fast enough that drawing a bead on him was difficult. The Goya lizard approached the pot at breakneck speed and made a lunge for the pot, however, Paper's swinging leg dissuaded the reptile. It hissed, almost as if surprised by his appearance, and it immediately turned tail; he raised the pistol and squeezed the trigger, but the laser beam missed the creature by scant centimeters and started boring a hole into the ferrocrete before the exposure window closed.
Paper followed, his boots crunching on the cracked concrete. "Come back here you little ponce."
The hunt carried him around the corner of the massive communications building and down a long, wide access road that terminated at the sheer rock wall of the mountain. The lizard paused for a moment, seemingly taunting him before scurrying further ahead.
Paper raised his Sunbeam again after clicking over to the 'cutting' setting; it might not kill it outright, but even if it moved he could rake the beam over the reptile and injure it enough to slow it down. Just as he squeezed the trigger, his boot caught an uneven divot in the ferro-concrete, sending him sprawling. The shot went wide, the laser searing harmlessly into the ground, and the Goya lizard disappeared into a crevice with another hiss, leaving Paper cursing his luck.
"Bollocks," The MIIO Agent groaned, pushing himself up and dusting off his hands. A sharp sting drew his attention to the scrapes on the heels of his palms, and he grunted as he reached onto his utility belt and grabbed his small portable medical kit. He grabbed the disinfectant and spritzed it over the lightly bleeding abrasions before spraying a wound sealant; medical paper crinkled as he tore into the packages and slapped a pair of skin-colored bandaids over them.
With his immediate injury treated, Paper stalked toward where his Sunbeam had skittered off to, but when he bent down to pick it up his eyes were drawn to the ground.
The divot that had tripped him wasn't alone.
A thrill of excitement ran up his spine as he straightened up, holstering his pistol as he did so, and he looked at the road with a critical eye. The road was pockmarked with similar indentations, all of them at regular intervals. Of course there were tons of them, but when looking for 'like' markings it became easy enough to see the patterns emerge. Squatting down, he traced the grooves with his fingers, and he felt a huge grin tug at his lips.
"Well I'll be..." He felt like kicking himself, "How had I not noticed these before?"
The markings were unmistakable to anyone with his training: Battlemech footprints and tank treads. Heavy machinery tended to damage even the heartiest of roads, and the worst offenders were always Battlemechs and tanks. It was such a problem that even the Great Houses had to pay through the nose for all of the repairs their vehicles did to the local roadways. More often than not, as long as the terrain was favorable, most garrisoned units tended to blaze their own trails instead of having a repair bill impact their next budget... and even when on campaigns damage to the roads was often taken into consideration when planning offensive operations.
The damage was old, with centuries of erosion having smoothed them out, but the density and direction told a story.
He rose to his feet, scanning the road with furious eyes, and with a giddy energy filling his veins he ran toward one of the nearest stairwells leading up the communications dishes.
However, just before he reached the ruined gate to the stairwell, he skidded to a halt; he wasn't carrying his electro-binoculars... and he'd left the stew's heat on high.
"Oh of all of the..." The man smacked himself on the forehead before trotting back to the burner and hoped that no other local animal had gotten into it... and that it wasn't burned.
Val was there seated on the camp chair he'd vacated, the woman giving him an unimpressed look over her prescription sunglasses as she typed away at her noteputer.
Her hair, now light brown instead of the original black, was tied up in a practical ponytail, and it shifted in the salty breeze from the sea. "You almost let the stew burn."
"And it's for good reason. I was chasing down a Goya lizard," He huffed as he climbed the steps in four long strides, the man circling around the simmering pot and his partner to dig into his bag. "Had I caught it we'd be dining finely this evening."
A soft laugh left her lips as she looked him over. "And the fact that you're empty-handed... with bandages on your palms... I surmise that you didn't catch it?"
"Ever the observant one, Love." He threw a rakish grin at her from over his shoulder, and he liked the way her milky cheeks pinkened, "But it was for a good reason."
"And that reason is?" She drawled lightly, a flighty Irish bough filling his ears that so deliciously contrasted with her usual German accent; for an analyst, she could do her accents well.
"I tripped." He stated matter-of-factly, and once his fingers grasped onto his electro-binoculars he stood up, "And that little spill I took is what earned me these plasters."
He looped the lanyard over his head and waggled his hands, "However, it was that little spill that gave me a clue."
Her fingers stopped clicking away at the noteputer on her lap, and she slowly raised her head to look at him. "What 'clue'?"
"It's just a hunch, really. A feeling, but if you want me to tell then you're going to have to come with." He chuckled lightly as he took off at a brisk jog; he didn't even need to look over his shoulder to see that she was running right behind him.
The steel steps of the staircase thundered and groaned under their ruthless assault, but once they'd gotten enough elevation— roughly three-quarters of the way up to the communication dishes— there was enough height for him to see most of the streets in the installation. He licked his chapped lips, clearing his throat as he booted up the imaging windows while he caught his breath. Once they were on, he pressed his eyes up against the rubberized housing, and the tubes quickly adjusted to his slight astigmatism; truly, this Star League equipment they pulled from the Helm cache was a Godsend.
He raked his gaze across the roads, zooming in and out as necessary— all of it to build up a mental image in his mind of the level of traffic as denoted by the gouges. Then he turned his attention to the large street below them, the Agent noting that not only was there obscenely more traffic on it than the others, but there were what appeared to be dozens of discolorations in the form of ferrocrete patches; this road in particular was repaired quite frequently it seemed. Zooming out he triggered the scanning function in the SLDF-vintage binoculars and followed the glowing wireframes of the indentations from the three reinforced dropship landing pads... all of the way to the sheer mountain wall that they were now standing on.
His fingers tingled as he wrapped an arm around Val's waist before planting a kiss on her cheek and placing the electro-binoculars into her hands. "I think this is the clue we've been looking for."
"What did you find?" she asked, placing the rear rubber cap up to her eyes after pushing her glasses down the bridge of her nose.
"Look at the roads and tell me what you see." He grinned into her neck, taking a deep breath while his nose rubbed over the shell of her ear.
"I see... tank treads and 'Mech prints. A lot of them." She hummed, the woman scanning over every street with intent, "Not unusual at any LCAF or militia garrison, let alone an SLDF posting. However, the density is highest on this road in particular."
"Yup. Directly from the dropship pads to this very wall, in fact. Interesting, don't you think?" He puckered his lips and used them to pull her delectable earlobe between his teeth where he began to worry it, causing her to gasp and shiver.
"Not now. I'll run you ragged later." Val admonished him, the woman lightly digging her heel onto his foot, "These divots are also too... deep. Only a heavy or assault-weight Battlemech could have made these. The 113th, being a Signal Battalion, wouldn't have had that kind of heavy metal; light and medium mechs at best, and no tanks to speak of."
"Exactly." He grinned, slipping his foot out from underneath her heel and packing up his libido, "The only way lights and medium 'Mechs could have left scars bad enough to warrant that many patches were if they were jumping around with their jump jets... and we all know that the SLDF frown upon doing things like that inside of the compound."
"Everything keeps coming back to those reinforced dropship pads." Agent Val pulled the electro-binoculars from her face and let them hang on Paper's neck so she could lean against the guard rail with her arms crossed; he could see the analytical gears in her mind already spinning. "I've seen still images and videos of dozens of SLDF Communications Outposts, those that mirrored this one quite closely, and none of them had reinforced dropship landing pads... let alone three of them."
The brunette pinched her lower lip while she thought silently for a few moments before coming to a conclusion, "This wasn't just a communications relay. There's something more here."
Paper's grin was sardonic. "Yes, that's what I was thinking. Let's take a closer look."
They quickly tromped back down the open-air, steel staircase with some pep in their step, though once they reached the street they slowed their pace and followed the trail of scarred ferrocrete to ensure there weren't any deviations from their hypothesis. When they finally reached the sheer mountain wall, the eroded steps started to disappear as more carefully applied patches blended into the existing ferrocrete almost seamlessly. Only using the search function on the electro-binoculars could they confirm that there was still the faintest of outlines to follow, which they did until they could travel no more.
The road seemed to end in a small cul-de-sac, with a pair of open-air container yards on either side of the street. They'd already been here before, as what few 15-meter shipping containers that were still here had already been cracked open and liberated of their contents centuries ago, but now that they had something to look for it was like he had a fresh set of eyes.
"We're looking for something innocuous. The Helm cache had a guard house that was blended into the rock so well you would be hard-pressed to tell it was there from ten paces away." He advised as he placed his hands on his hips and looked around, "I know we've already been here before, but damnit, they made sure to patch the road here well enough that it would be hard to spot."
Agent Val didn't say anything, and they partitioned the yards into sectors and began going through them again one at a time.
It took hours, and they decided that an early meal would be best to give them a chance to cool their minds; the stew wasn't quite finished, but it was good enough. However, after a quick half-hour break, they were back up on their feet and searching again because they were going to lose their daylight soon enough. It was in his second to last search sector that Paper finally found something that looked promising— it was the administrative shack for one of the yards. However, it wasn't the shack itself that drew his attention, as he'd already turned that place upside down, no, it was the suspiciously armored power conduit box on the back of the shack that caught his attention.
This was an EnviroSeal Heavy box made by Star Corp, one built to withstand the rigors of space travel. It was just mundane enough for it to pass by his notice the first time he and Val looked around, but now that he was looking specifically for the mundane it stood out to him. Such overbuilt products weren't usually seen on terrestrial structures like these...
He tapped his throat mic, a small chirp signaling that he'd opened the encrypted line, "Hey, Sally... to me."
Its exterior was badly corroded, but he knew that this thing was sturdier than it appeared. What made it even more interesting to look at was the thick locking bar over the hatch, along with the ancient-looking padlock, which was still intact. Drawing a small toolkit from his belt, he started performing the preparatory work to try and jimmy it open; he spritzed the face of the lock and made sure to liberally apply it to the lock's barrel and chamber before he used a small bronze brush to scrape some of the flecks of corrosion out of the way. He had a trio of tools clenched between his teeth, his fingers digging around in the innards of the lock when Agent Val slipped around the side of the admin shack.
"What have you— oh." Her curious tone was interrupted by the woman pinching the bridge of her nose. "Mein Gott, I noticed that the first time we went through here but... I didn't think to make a note of it."
Paper shrugged his shoulders, his ears perking up when he heard the satisfying 'click' he was waiting for, and he used his pinkies to stabilize the padlock while turning the barrel carefully... until it opened up with a 'chunk'. "Heh."
Still, as much as he wanted to throw it open, he didn't, instead the man used his companion to hold a pair of flashlights while he used the rest of the tools in his infiltrator's toolkit to feel around the edges of the power box now that the bar had been removed and the seal was broken. He didn't feel any wires or switches, and using both mirrors and his miniature fiberoptic periscope didn't show anything that would blow up or cause some sort of alarm.
So he was happy to open the hatch all of the way and reveal the pristine-looking SLDF computer terminal that had been hidden away inside.
"Looks like it hasn't been touched in centuries," Val said breathlessly, the woman stopping herself from reaching out and touching it, "How are we going to power it? The fusion reactors are gone and... even if they weren't the power cabling has been stripped as well."
"It's powered, I'm sure of it." Agent Paper tucked his tools away and kneeled down to the specialized hardcase at his feet; this was something special that Arthur Corean had come up with for the spooks of MIIO and LIC, and the field agent was glad the Federation's resident scientist was all too happy to play the role of 'Q' to their 'Jane Bond'. The thing was a marvel, hiding all sorts of goodies within its thick polymer walls. Not only did this hard case host their miniature Black Box, but it also was where they kept a copy of the noteputer that contained the credentials for General Marcus Rechen.
Val's eyes lit up. "If this is still functional, we might be onto something big."
"It's in perfect condition and SLDF tech. It is." He stated confidently as he pulled the ruggedized noteputer out and connected its cable to the terminal; once it was connected he pulled up General Rechen's credentials and let the program run in the background.
Nothing appeared to happen, and that made Agent Val twitchy. "It's not working?"
Being the 'Tech Guy' was always trying, but he wouldn't be a huge nerd if he didn't try to explain it all to her. "It's sending this packet right now. It's not giving me an 'Error 101', which signals that there is nothing to connect to."
"So it's actually connected to something because it's not giving an error?" She tilted her head, "Why is it not turning on then?"
"Because there is a protocol in place to try and verify the credentials. This terminal is likely trying to connect to the old SLCOMNET network, which it likely can't, so it can't verify whether or not 'General Rechen' here," He gestured to the noteputer, "Is actually authorized to access this terminal."
Authorization error...
Authorization... rejected.
Insufficient privileges for Castle Brian Access, reference: 'General Order #11-189B, Compartmentalization Protocols, Sec. 2, Pg. 4, Para. 5'
Silent alarm activated... silent alarm contained... silent alarm deactivated.
Notice: Terminal Lock-Out... prevented...
Initiate 'Plan B'? Y/N?
"Ahhhhhhh... shit. Thank God for Arthur Corean." He muttered as his shoulders sagged.
"What does that all mean?"
"It means that if we'd been trying to infiltrate this Castle Brian while the SLDF was still here we would have almost gotten caught." He chuckled lightly as he thumbed at a bead of sweat on his brow, "Though what this does mean is that we were right. There is a Castle Brian here."
He stabbed the 'Y' key and hit 'Enter'.
Initializing 'Ask Me Instead' protocols...
Agent Val all but squealed as she wrapped her arms around his neck and placed a huge smooch against his cheek, "So what is happening now?"
Paper drummed his fingers against the side of the noteputer, "Well, right now it's running a program that skips the base-side authentication protocols entirely. When it connected to the Castle Brian's network it inserted a worm that will... essentially isolate the authentication protocol from the server the next time we connect to it again. This will cause a logic loop as the server tries to connect and can't, which will then trick it into circumventing its primary network path... and then have the terminal ask the noteputer if the credentials being given are valid instead of the Castle Brian's database."
"We just have to wait..." As soon as he finished speaking, the screen on the terminal flickered to life, the insignia of the SLDF and the Cameron Star faintly glowing as they spun around on their axis. Minutes ticked by as the terminal's ancient, disused vac-stacks ceaselessly ground through layers of security protocols. Finally, with a triumphant beep, it accepted the credentials.
'Ask Me Instead' protocol... successful.
Welcome General Marcus Rechen, Acting Commanding General of the Star League Defense Forces. Please contact RAFHQ immediately to confirm status.
A low, mechanical screech filled the air as the mountain wall began to shift. Dust and debris rained down as a massive section of rock slid upward, revealing a hidden passageway carved into the stone. Cool, stale air rushed out, carrying the scent of centuries-old machinery.
Val's voice was high-pitched as she squeezed his neck tightly, her hot breath washing over his ear. "Oh, Gott. Oh, Gott. Oh, Gott."
"Save that for later." He quipped back, throwing her earlier jab back at her, but he had to admit that he was feeling overwhelmed as well; it felt like he was back on Helm all over again. "Let's see what the Star League left behind."
The pair quickly packed up and pulled themselves together as the lights began to come to life, illuminating the deep tunnel that would lead to either their next greatest find... or their next disappointment.
However, before they could run off down the tunnel they had some housekeeping to do— chief among them was setting up their encrypted homing beacon outside of the facility along with sending out the pre-coded message of a possible find. This was important because they wanted them to know where they were in case they got trapped, but also to signal their Leopard team to come down. Attached to the pre-coded message was a single still image of the open Castle Brian rock door just barely visible in the waning light of the setting sun.
If that didn't motivate their pick-up team to haul ass from orbit then Agent Paper didn't know what would.
"Wait, we should pack up our camp first," Agent Val muttered, her hand reaching out to grasp his arm, "And wait for the Leopard to get down here. We're going to want the crew and marines to help us secure and search the place."
Paper fought down the desire to argue against her logic, but she was correct; no doubt the Black Box had already received a response from Captain Uller that they were on their way. "You're correct, we should. No doubt it will take them a few hours to descend from an unobservable point so their drive plumes aren't spotted yet. Packing up and setting up a guard on the doors here would be for the best."
Besides, after taking a look down the massive tunnel he couldn't exactly see the end of it, so having the Prowler might save them a very, very long walk.
It took less than two hours for the Leopard crew to make it to the Masterson Communication Outpost, and that time was well spent with Captain Uller circling around to the least populated side of Riken Minor and descending slowly to prevent a plasma sheath from forming that would make them stand out too much on the night side of the moon. After they'd entered the atmosphere, they were on half-burn to keep their drive plume signatures as small as possible, and from the top of the staircase of the second comms dish Agent Paper caught sight of them. With the SLDF-era electro-binoculars thermal imaging, he could see the quartet of bottom thrusters just barely in the distance— the Silver Ducat so close to the surface of the sea that the plasma drives were leaving steam clouds in their wake.
The Agent keyed his throat mic.
"Ducat, this is Stationary. I've got sight of you to my position's thirty. You've got three pads about ten clicks to your..." Paper referenced the built-in compass at the top of his view, "Forty-seven. All three are reinforced so take your pick and park it."
"Understood, Stationary. I'm sure that you've inspected the landing zone for any guests?" Captain Uller's thick Scottish accent was nearly indecipherable, and only months of close proximity to the Federation of Skye native had given him the necessary exposure to make out his words.
"Zwei is at the Terminal office and hasn't moved since. I've had overwatch and been on the lookout." The MIIO Agent adjusted the TK assault rifle that had been a part of their 'Care Package' before they headed out here, the rifle having been broken down into its upper and lower receiver so that it could fit inside of his hiking pack; the rifle may have been the standard issue rifle for the Lyran Commonwealth for centuries but he would have traded it in for a Federated Long Rifle any day, and it wasn't just because of familiarity. The TK fired 3mm explosive flechettes, which while lethal if they impacted a vital organ, left a lot to be desired in terms of accuracy out past three hundred meters; it just didn't have the ass behind it to buck the rather strong winds coming off the sea as the venerable .308 could.
With the perimeter fence being almost five hundred and thirty meters away— taking into account the slant due to his elevated position— he wasn't confident that he could make a meaningful shot that far with the red dot even if he had spotted anyone in the first place; thankfully the thermal functionality made scanning the perimeter simple enough.
"That you on the staircase, laddie?"
He almost jerked, having almost forgotten about the extensive sensor package upgrades done to the Leopard, but he cleared his throat. "Indeed it is."
"Good. Landing in thirty."
The soft roar of the dropship's thrusters was heard as it slowed down, its nose raising, and Paper watched the landing gear pop out of the flat bottom of the craft. Dust and debris scattered, with some of the smaller particulate turning to sparks as the superheated plasma ignited it, and within moments the Leopard was touching down.
A few minutes later, after the surrounding area had some time to cool down, the starboard side bay door opened up and their Prowler came rolling down the ramp— a single twelve-man squad of Commonwealth marines striding down behind it. With the binoculars, he could see Agent Val leaving the office and walking out to meet with them, and after some words were exchanged he could see one of the marines trot back up the ramp. A few more minutes passed by and a small truck, one of the ones that they had brought back with them from Helm, trundled down the ramp to park behind the Prowler; due to his elevated position, Paper could see a quartet of Support Machine Guns in the bed along with their tripods, sandbags, and cases of ammunition.
Paper's earpiece crackled, "Stationary, this is Sergeant Gunther. Please hold your overwatch position until one of my boys comes to relieve you. Ich danke Ihnen."
"Understood." He replied easily; now that their part of this mission was nominally over, Sergeant Gunther was in overall tactical command.
He settled back into his camp chair, the man double-checking the extremely weathered tarp he'd strung up using some of his survival cord over the guard rails that served as his concealment. Securing the perimeter first was paramount, so while one team of marines stalked up and down the fence looking for any breaches that might need to be repaired, the team of marines with the truck would set up a machine gun or two in the buildings overlooking the main road; without the gates, it was where they'd be needed the most. Then the second most likely position would be up in his little crow nest since it offered exceptional visibility and fields of fire, and the last machinegun would likely be set up right at the entrance to the Castle Brian; given it could cover the entrance and all the way down the road to the Leopard it was the best possible position for their last gun.
It took about twenty minutes for the truck to back up to the bottom of the staircase, one of the marines having to ground guide the driver as the access road was a bit of a tight squeeze. Even a hundred and thirty-five meters above the ground he could practically hear the bitching from two middle-aged marines as they tromped up the dizzying staircase to his position. Despite being extremely fit and well-disciplined, the pair were huffing and puffing as they turned the last flight of stairs and made their way to his position. The heavy machine gun hit the metal with a resounding 'thunk', and the tripod soon followed it.
"Gott in Himmel." Corporal Watnick leaned up against the guard railing as he alternated between knuckling his back and rubbing his shoulder, "Would it have killed the Star League to install an elevator here?"
Paper resisted the urge to chuckle as he slipped out of his camp chair and started moving his equipment out of the way, "No power plants, I'm afraid; scavengers pulled those too. So even if they had built one it wouldn't have worked."
The pair of Commonwealth soldiers grumbled in displeasure before they turned to each other and stuck out a hand. "Loser gets the sandbags and ammunition?"
"Fuck that, loser has to set up the gun by themselves. Best of three?"
"No. One and done."
"Rock. Paper. Scissors."
"Rock. Paper. Scissors- damn!"
"Heh."
The MIIO Agent slung his TK rifle over his shoulder before collapsing his camp chair and stuffing it into the tote bag, and he handed over the electro-binoculars as he passed them by.
His quads felt like jello by the time he reached the bottom of the staircase; as exceptionally fit as he was, this had been the fourth time this day alone he'd climbed and gone down this same staircase, and over a kilometer of stairs was enough to try any man's endurance. Paper slipped past the steadily rumbling supply truck and made his way back toward the entrance to the Castle Brian where Val and Sergeant Gunther were having a hushed conversation. He was surprised by the alacrity at which they were setting up the defenses because there was already a rather formidable sandbag bunker set up, and the trio of marines were stacking bags like the hounds of hell were about to start knocking on their door; another pair were performing a functions check on their 11.5mm support MG while another was quickly linking belts of ammunition together.
As he got closer he could see Agent Val gesture to a large, blue-steel placard on the wall with the Cameron Star etched onto its dusty surface: "Star League Divisional Supply Depot, 177th Royal Battlemech Division, Riken Minor TH029-2625".
Just reading those words sent a thrill down his spine, and Paper wondered just how smug he could be with Rock when he saw her again; no doubt he'd have quite the story to tell her.
The MIIO Agent strolled up to them, his fingers gliding along the Battlemech-grade armor plating of the silent Prowler vehicle, "We ready to ride?"
[Agent Rock]
[Loxley]
[December 31st, 3027]
"A-all this time..." A rather youthful voice wavered slightly as he walked through the open factory floors of the old Kong Interstellar plant— his headlamp's bright beam diffusing into the stale, dust-filled air. "All this time this was here and we had just... what, forgotten about it?"
Herich Faust was such a cute young man!
While Agent Rock wouldn't have minded traveling with Agent Val, she had to admit that her partner was much more to her liking, and it wasn't just because of his fine Greecian looks— his olive-tanned skin and dark curly hair were only a small part of his charms. The moment he started compiling a list of the locations that he had deemed the 'easiest' to find Rock had known that she'd found the optimal Work Husband. While Rock could appreciate a fellow woman working in the dangerous field of intelligence, Val seemed like someone who was driven to make a name for herself, and those types usually were more trouble than they were worth.
The simple fact that when she and Henrich left for their dropship Val and Paper were conducting Hazardous Environment Familiarization Training told her that she dodged a bullet.
Nope! Miss her with that! After Helm she wanted some nice, easy, relaxing assignments that still might put a few feathers in her cap; it was the least that was owed to her after that nerve-wracking but exciting assignment! She should have been allowed to retire early with her portrait hanging up in MIIO's Hall of Unsung Heroes. She should have been on the beaches of New Avalon enjoying the sun, the surf, some fruity drinks, and barely legal surfer boys with abs!
However, instead of retiring early— or at least enjoying a well-deserved vacation— she was bundled up, stuck inside of a jumpship, and sent at best possible speed to the Loxley system. Six jumps. Six weeks of travel and all of it was only made bearable by the fact that her partner was just as displeased about it all as she was.
There were only so many times one could go over aerial and satellite photography of a planet, or dig through old planetary records and intelligence reports before cabin fever started to set in.
One of Arthur Corean's tips had been about the old Kong Interstellar plants here on the planet of Loxley. It had been set up on the coast of the third continent of the planet, the Wastelands, so called for its arid desert environment and lack of fresh water. However, to say it was 'on the coast' was a bit misleading, as there was a large mountain range between it and the coast. The plant was nestled deep in these mountains on purpose, with no human settlements within five hundred kilometers, and no good fishing in the waters nearby, there was practically zero reason for anyone to be out here... which was probably why this old Star League-era plant was undiscovered. They had to have their Leopard crew fly them in, and those marines they brought with them were currently spreading out through the rest of the facility checking for any traps that the SLDF regiment that left here might have set up.
"The only thing I don't understand," Rock spoke aloud as she let her headlamp swing across the half-constructed Black Knight that was on a large, tracked assembly line, "Is why they packed up and left in the first place."
Herich paused in his steps, the beam of his headlamp coming to rest on the ferrocrete beneath their feet. "I couldn't tell you. This facility was listed as 'Destroyed' in the First Succession War, and yet... here it stands. As pristine as can be."
Rock crossed her arms over her chest, with her arms resting on top of the magazine pouches of her body armor. "Yet, we don't have any records of anyone actually attacking this place, now do we? The Fortieth Lyran Guard was stationed here to supplement the Star League garrison posted to defend this installation, and yet..."
A tanned hand came up and pinched his lower lip, a hum escaping between his teeth. "Well, it was well known that the Fortieth weren't happy with the posting. They were rather loud with their complaints at protecting Kong Interstellar since they were a manufacturer who exclusively produced Battlemechs for the SLDF."
The brunette uncrossed her arms and began drumming her fingers along the pistol grip of her Rorynex RM-3/XXI submachine gun; its explosive-tipped 7.5mm ammunition might have made it illegal in hundreds of systems across the Inner Sphere, but being a spook for MIIO had its perks. "Do you think that when their SLDF companions packed up to join Kerensky's exodus fleet..."
"That the Kong Interstellar folks might have gotten cold feet?" His face scrunched up cutely, "It's a possibility. We would have to get someone back on Tharkad to dig through the Fortieth's logs but I could see it. The Kong personnel already knew that their Lyran protectors weren't so happy to be guarding them, so when their SLDF protectors packed up and disappeared in the middle of the night without a word? They likely closed up shop and got off-world before the Fortieth even knew they were gone..."
"And the Fortieth, seeing this as their chance to leave Loxley and this dead-end posting behind... what... said that Kong Interstellar destroyed the facilities on the way out?"
"Highly likely. They could have written it into official reports, and with how the Fortieth got savaged in the opening salvos of the First Succession War after they left there..." Herich placed his hands on his hips as he shook his head, "There was likely no one left alive in the unit who even remembered this place."
Agent Rock sighed as she let that hang in the air for a few moments, but after giving him his time to mope she walked over and threw an arm over his shoulder. "Well. Look on the bright side, mein Freund, we found it! A whole Star League-vintage, automated Battlemech factory! One that was even building Black Knights!"
She loved those!
Even if she wasn't certified as a Mechwarrior— she purposefully avoided getting that certification because those guys went on crazy missions— she still loved the regal countenance of the Black Knight!
In the dim, ambient light of their headlamps, it was impossible to see if there was a cute blush on his tanned cheeks... but the awkward yet pleased smile on his face was more than enough for her.
Maybe the Archon would finally let her have her vacation now?
[Agent Rock]
[Antares]
[March 31st, 3028]
No, the Archon had not let them have a vacation.
The Sergeant had the facility buttoned back up within twenty-four hours of their discovery, and they were burning back to the jumpship wherein they sat for nine days waiting for their Leopard's larger Black Box to shoot out and receive a message from the daisy chain of satellite Black Boxes they'd ejected during their travel out. Then when they'd gotten the orders to carry on... it was ten more weeks of jumps and twelve whole days toward Antares at 1.25g burn.
The only bright spot in that whole ordeal was that they had plenty of time to go over everything they had on the planet. Once more, Arthur Corean's vague information had been enough to readily narrow down their target to the city of Alba. There was, according to LIC's records, an old Star League supply depot that had been in the area, and they went over what little satellite imagery they had of that time period to try and find it; the number of photos they had to work with was sparse since the SLDF didn't exactly allow non-Star League satellites to sit over their facilities, but it was helpful.
They weren't actually any closer to finding it, but upon touching down Herich, being his cute book-wormy self, suggested they go and visit the Alba library. Not seeing any harm in it, and wanting to drive that old SLDF cargo truck that they'd liberated from Helm, Agent Rock assented and they trundled out of the Antares City spaceport in style. They drew no shortage of looks from the locals as they drove about the roads at a sedate sixty-five kilometers per hour, but while they didn't get anywhere fast that was just fine in Rock's opinion!
The faster they found the Antares Depot the worse off they'd be; no doubt that slave-driver of an Archon would have them stuffed back into the tin can that was their home-away-from-home in a flash.
If there was any balm for her unfortunate situation it was that the last target on their list was Gruas, and that was only a single jump away. If they found what they were looking for at the Graus University then that would be great, because even if it meant that they would have to travel back to Tharkad again... she could tell that pretty Archon to her face that she'd quit if they tried to put her back onto another jumpship before her birthday in October!
She'd do it!
The town of Alba was quite a bit larger than it had been since those surveillance images had been taken, but it wasn't so large that they had a difficult time getting around. Sure, Herich was terrible at giving directions and could hardly read a map to save his life, but that was just another part of his charms! All they had to do was stop and ask for directions, which was paid for by letting an elderly man take some photos of their vintage cargo truck; he'd apparently had a large collection of old Star League memorabilia, and he'd never seen a M-115 cargo truck in such pristine condition.
The library had been just what they needed, much to Rock's chagrin, as there were plenty of old lithograph images of newspaper articles that featured the SLDF supply depot; at that time Alba had been a small town, and the large depot had been quite helpful for the economy. Soldiers had to go out and spend their money somewhere, and the restaurants and bars were happy to take their dollars. So while the MIIO agent lamented her partner's wit and diligence they drove out to where he believed it to have been— out past the still operational water purification plant that supplied water to a dozen cities and towns via large above-ground pipes.
The entrance to the facility was... kind of in plain sight?
It was definitely underground, but the massive steel doors that stood out stark against the grassy hill it was built into were almost hard to spot since the area had become a shanty town. A homeless encampment had been built over the top of the entrance, with plywood and sheet metal walls. Parked on a road that was more dirt than ferrocrete after centuries of neglect the pair stared.
"That might be a problem," Herich muttered as he ran his hand over his mouth.
"How so?" Rock asked conversationally as she stuck another stick of chewing gum into her mouth; the local brand just lost its flavor way too quickly for her liking.
He eyed her queerly, "That is the SLDF supply facility we're looking for."
"Yup. Indeed it is, Love."
His cheeks grew dark as he turned his head away; it had taken her six weeks into their second leg for him to crack so that she could slip into his pants, but the wait had been worth it. A true, blue virgin, and she had been the one to claim his cherry! She had been worried for a while, even losing confidence in her feminine wiles; had she failed to seduce the virgin intel analyst she might have had to report to the Farm for a refresher in seduction training!
"It's a homeless encampment. They're notoriously distrusting of outsiders. There is no way we're getting in. Not without resorting to force."
She smirked. "Nah, you just have to speak their language, darling."
"And what language is that?" He asked quizzically, "And don't say 'violence', because that won't go over too well—"
"HEY! I'M WITH LYRAN INTELLIGENCE! WE'RE LOOKING FOR AN OLD STAR LEAGUE FACILITY! THAT HERE!?"
"WHO WANTS TO KNOW!?"
"I SAID I'M WITH LYRAN INTELLIGENCE, DUMPKOPF! ARE YOU DEAF!?"
"NO! I HEARD YOU! JUST DON'T BELIEVE YOU! AND EVEN IF YOU WERE, WHY WOULD I LET YOU INSIDE!?"
"BECAUSE IF THERE IS AN OLD SLDF FACILITY AND I CAN GET INTO IT— PROVIDED THERE IS SOMETHING JUICY INSIDE— THEN THE ARCHON WILL PAY EVERYONE INSIDE A HUNDRED THOUSAND KRONER!"
"JUST A HUNDRED THOUSAND!?"
"EACH!"
"WELL SCHEIZE! WHY DIDN'T YOU JUST SAY SO, FRAULINE!? COME ON IN!"
"OKAY! BUT JUST KNOW WE GOT MARINES WITH US SO DON'T DO ANYTHING STUPID!"
Agent Rock huffed a laugh as she clambered down off the hood of the supply truck, the woman watching in satisfaction as the shoddy gates to the shanty-town started to open up. She looked back at the Commonwealth Sergeant— they'd driven back to Antares City to pick them up— who looked like he wanted to chew steel.
"I don't think the Archon would appreciate you putting her on the hook for potentially tens of millions of Kroner."
The brunette flipped her ponytail, "There's less than a hundred people inside; the encampment isn't large enough to support any more than that. And since we recently found that automated Star League-era Battlemech facility that saves the Commonwealth... I don't know... a couple billion Kroner. An easy trade, wouldn't you say?"
His lips firmed into a thin line but rather than belabor the point he just slapped the roof of the truck, "Just get us inside already."
The moment she climbed back in and put it into gear she heard her boytoy muttering to himself. "There is no way that just worked..."
'Ask Me Instead' protocol... successful.
Welcome General Marcus Rechen, Acting Commanding General of the Star League Defense Forces. Please contact RAFHQ immediately to confirm status.
Sccccrrrreeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!
'CHUNK. CHUNK. CHUNK. CHUNK. CHUNK. CHUNK. CHUNK.'
"Star League Army Supply Depot, Twenty-Seventh Corps, Antares LC12-2625".
With the Lyran Marines guarding the entrance, keeping the gobsmacked homeless people at bay, they took the old SLDF truck and trundled it down the gentle incline deep into the bowels of the supply depot.
They passed numerous checkpoints, saw signs for the barracks, commissary, post-exchange, the barber shop, dining facility, and administrative offices— all of which were side tunnels that branched off from this main one. There was a sidewalk, but ultimately Agent Rock found herself feeling sorrow for the SLDF soldiers of old who had this posting. Spending years or more living underground must have been a hellish experience, and it was no wonder the soldiers of this facility were such a huge boost to the town of Alba's economy!
Everyone with them was slack-jawed at the sight before them as they arrived at the bottom of the ramp and into the primary underground storage facility. The ceiling was twenty-five meters high, more than tall enough to allow even the tallest of Battlemechs to walk freely, and there it all was. Row upon row of Battlemechs, tanks, aerospace fighters, combat vehicles, and— surprise, surprise— hundreds more supply trucks just like they were driving.
This was at the very least three Divisions worth of SLDF material.
Agent Rock parked the truck in front of the sign on the wall that read "CHIEF LOGISTICIAN'S OFFICE" and shut off its ICE engine.
When she got out she looked up at the frozen Commonwealth Marines who were stock-still in the bed of the truck, and when the Sergeant looked down at her with wide doe eyes she smiled gormlessly. "Do you think the Archon will have any problem paying those people now?"
He worked his jaw a few times before shaking his head. "No. Even if you'd said a million Kroner... she'd pay it gladly."
"Good."
The last thing she wanted was to get into trouble for something like this!
Maybe she'd get her vacation now?
[Agent Rock]
[Graus]
[April 25th, 3028]
She did not get her vacation. The moment they had sealed the facility back up, and had the local militia come in to secure it, they were balled up and stuffed back onto their Leopard.
"H-hey! You can't be coming back here!" A fat, overweight security guard from the local planetary university tried to intercept her, but she simply stuffed her MIIO credentials in his face while her Commonwealth marines strolled in and moved him out of her way.
She was not a happy camper.
"Which way, Herich?" She asked her partner, and the olive-skinned hunk blushed and scratched at his head.
"How am I supposed to know?"
"Well you studied here, didn't you?"
"Yes, but that was years ago and I never came this far into the administrative building before."
She huffed and reached into his coat pocket and grabbed his credentials before turning to the tub of lard and showing them off. "You there. Where is the most restricted part of this university?"
"Like I'd tell you!" He spat, struggling hopelessly against the marines holding his arms. "You just come in here with your fake fake badges and phony uniforms! Hah! Well jokes on you, I've already tripped the alarm, and the real soldiers will be here soon enough!"
Rock frowned before handing back Herich his leather folder. "We really could have just called ahead, couldn't we?"
Herich shrugged. "I'm about done, so I don't blame you. Sergeant, if you would?"
"One step ahead of you," The NCO grunted as he held a hand up to his ear, "The Captain got ahold of the President of the University while we were on our way over and... we apparently just missed the welcoming committee. If we return to the annex then we should meet them there."
Rock's shoulders sagged. "Fine. Let's go. I just want to go home."
"A-and this here is the door." The President of the University of Graus simpered as he wiped at his face with a kerchief, the man gesturing at a thick steel door that was deep within the bowels of the campus' primary administrative building. "It's been sealed shut for centuries. Sort of a mystery, you know? Every President has had their own thoughts as to what secrets it might contain, but ever since President Martia Glezbrauer's attempt at opening it back in 2799 it's been on-lock down ever since."
"Thank you very much for your assistance, Herr Schnider. You may leave." She nodded to the man and gestured for him to go, and while the senior educator of the university looked like he wanted to protest, a grunt from the Sergeant sent him almost scampering out.
"Bets on whether or not this will work?" Herich muttered as he dropped his pack onto the ground and fished around for the noteputer that had gotten them into both the Kong Interstellar plant and the Antares SLDF supply depot. "Those were both nominally under the control of the SLDF."
"And if this door was protected by security protocols of the Star League then I'm certain that the Commanding General of the SLDF's credentials could get us access." She huffed, "Just plug the damn thing in already."
He jacked in.
Initially, it didn't work.
So they tried the 'Plan B' option on the noteputer... and that didn't work either.
However, after listening to both Rock and Herich bitch and moan for about an hour, one of the marines with them made the innocuous suggestion that maybe the University's connection to the HPG was causing the problem.
It sounded silly on the surface, but... the 'Plan B' worked because there was no connection for the computer system in question to connect with.
It was just crazy enough to at least give it a shot, so after informing the President that they were going to have the university's IT department completely shut down all network connections coming to and from the campus... while perturbed he acquiesced because it wasn't like there was much he could do to stop them. Especially since the man knew that Herich was LIC, and LIC had its reputation...
So once the network was cut...
'Ask Me Instead' protocol... successful.
Welcome General Marcus Rechen, Acting Commanding General of the Star League Defense Forces. Please contact RAFHQ immediately to confirm status.
"Fucking finally." Rock groaned as she watched the door hiss before it slowly slid open... revealing what appeared to be a server room with a large boxy data core sitting on top of a plinth— a quartet of cables attached to its faces slithering up toward the ceiling.
She looked at Heric. Heric looked at her.
"Hans, get us some spare cores, ASAP."
Maybe she would finally get her vacation.