17:15 12/31/3096 Holy Chuck Burgers Toronto, Canada, Terra Free World’s League Penelope hadn’t managed to touch her burger yet, even though it’d been sitting in front of her for the last three minutes. Her twin babies, Khalid and Rhona, were refusing to eat the presented food. “Just…Eat your damn peas, kid…” she groaned, swaying the spoon back and forth to entice Khalid into finally opening his mouth. Instead, he looked to his twin sister, and bopped her on the side of the head with his hand, eliciting a cry from the poor girl. Penelope let out a sigh, and set the baby food on the table. “I give up,” she conceded. “I tried telling you, they don’t like the peas,” Randall said. “You liked peas when you were their age,” Penelope insisted to Caitir, who was loading hummus and avocado slices onto pita bread. “Mom, I was a baby. Don’t look at me as if I’m gonna talk them into eating their peas.” “You’re eating peas right now.” “I used to hate hummus, Mom. And avocado. Things like that change. Try the apples. They love apples,” Caitir gestured to the baby bag. Penelope leaned back, letting out a grumble. “They already ate it all. All I’ve got are peas and turnips. I don’t know why we buy peas and turnips, they hate those. They like the cabbage, though. Randall?” “Hmm?” “We have strange children.” “Yep.” “I’m just gonna eat. We’re gonna be late,” Penelope picked up her burger, and bit into it. “They’re gonna be cranky,” Caitir pointed out. “I’m gonna be cranky,” Penelope retorted with a mouth full of burger. She finished chewing, “I’ll feed them on the way to the starport. I don’t want a pair of babies under my arms while eating.” “You eat while breastfeeding all the time,” Caitir said. “I eat chips while breastfeeding. If a chip falls on their head, I pick up the chip and eat it. If grease falls on their head, I gotta clean the grease. Besides, chips only take one hand. Burgers need two.” “Then why did we come to a place that serves greasy food?” “Why do you ask so many questions?” “Burning, insatiable teenage curiosity.” Penelope took a bite of her burger, spewing expletives and insults at her daughter which were rendered unintelligible by the full mouth of food. Randall finished his food first, and picked up Rhona, who had calmed down from her crying fit. Randall fished out a bottle, and stuffed it in the girl’s mouth. Khalid, seeing his sister get attention where he had none, started to cry, in turn. “Shouldn’t have done that,” Penelope muttered between bites. “They have to be fed,” he said. “Yes, at the same time, or we never hear the end of it. You know how they are,” Penelope produced a pacifier from the bag and stuffed it into Khalid’s mouth, “Shut up, kid. You’re the one who wouldn’t eat your peas.” Sated by the device, Penelope continued at her food. “So are we planning something? Like, why do we have the whole unit coming here?” Caitir asked, mounting more hummus with which to drown out the suffering pita bread that was its mount. “Mmm,” replied Penelope as she chewed. “…Was…Was that an answer?” “Mmm.” “I-I don’t…” “We’re getting approved,” Penelope finally said. “Approved for what?” Caitir demanded “The MRBC’s giving us a rating?” Randall guessed. “Uh huh. We’ve been accredited for years, but we’re about to a fully operational and independent Mercenary company. But we need to get everyone on Terra for the paperwork of it. Besides. It’s New Year’s. It’s a special time. I want everyone here, on Terra, for this.” “What does that all mean?” Caitir asked. Penelope grinned. “It means we’re the real deal now. Full MRBC contracts. Recognition, reputation, and full access to Depot worlds all over the Inner Sphere. No more special orders and secondhand equipment! We’re in the big leagues now, kid. Finish your food. We should get to the Spaceport before they touch down. I want everything to be perfect.” Captain Penelope “Dime” Trumbull Commanding Officer, Eden’s Guard Security & Logistics Corporation Lance Leader, Uriel’s Blade Lance KIM-3C Komodo 21:25 12/31/3096 Toronto Spaceport Toronto, Canada, Terra Free World’s League Rhona fussed and cried as she watched her brother and receive attention where she had none. Suddenly, a pacifier was stuffed in her mouth as her family piled out of the car. “Shut up, kid.” With Rhona finally sated, Penelope scooped her daughter out of the vehicle. Randall held and fed Khalid from a bottle as he followed his wife to the terminal where the Dyrnwyn was to set down. It would be another twenty minutes before it sat down, but Penelope insisted on seeing to special arrangements in person. “Ever seen a Dropship land from this angle?” Penelope asked Caitir. “A couple times,” she said, “When I was a kid.” They looked up through the polarized viewing glass in the terminal, and watched as the Dyrnwyn floated down, its thrusters spewing fire, twitching to compensate and guide it safely to the ground without impacting with the skyscrapers and buildings around it. “Man, it must really suck to work in the buildings around here,” Randall said, patting Khalid on the back to burp him. “Miracle of science and engineering happening in front of you, Randall, and your instinct is to comment on noise pollution,” Penelope said. “Hey, dealing with noise pollution is a fascinating engineering feat unto itself,” he insisted, watching the Dropship land on the pad with barely a ‘boom’ as the sparefaring warehouse touched down. The top of the vessel was still glowing a slight red. Drones hovered over the Dropship and doused it with foam to help cool it off. “That’s always so cool,” Penelope confessed. It would be a few minutes before the ship cooled down enough for people to exit. Penelope took the time to mount the front-and-back baby carriers onto her husband. Once it was fastened, they went to the tarmac to meet with the members of the Company, who were starting to pile out and stretch. - - - Garrick had made planetfall countless times throughout his life--more than a few while strapped into the cockpit of a Mech--and yet the tickling in his stomach as the g-forces kicked in still thrilled him, every time. He wasn’t the only one, either; from the look on Zeyal’s face, his sibkin was just barely holding herself back from whooping out loud as they came in. “This isn’t an amusement park ride, you know,” said Garrick, pitching his voice to carry over the roar of the Dyrnwyn’s engines. “I know!” Zeyal called back through a maniacal grin. “It’s so much better!” Garrick rolled his eyes, but couldn’t stop a grin from spreading across his face that belied his faux admonishment. On the acceleration couch across from them, Ken and Thoko wore similar expressions of poorly concealed amusement. Garrick could hardly blame them, or Zeyal. The entire company was in high spirits, between its triumphant homecoming and the long-awaited reunion with its founder and commanding officer. The rattling of reentry slowly settled down until a final solid shudder followed by stillness indicated that they had landed. An ‘all clear’ chime echoed through the dropship, and the four lancemates gratefully unstrapped themselves and set to working out the kinks and cramps that had built up during the last couple hours of relative immobility. “Ahhh,” said Thoko, popping her back with a mighty stretch. “Home at last.” “Home or something like it,” agreed Ken as he settled back. Despite being free of the straps, they were going to be stuck here for a few minutes of cooldown. “By the by,” said Thoko conversationally as she sat back in her own seat, “have any of you heard the rumors that old man Osaze’s going to be retiring?” Garrick’s contented expression flickered momentarily as Zeyal surged forward in astonishment. “I hadn’t heard anything about that!” exclaimed Zeyal. “Who was saying that?” “Dunno where Thoko heard it,” Ken chimed in, “but I heard the same thing from some of the higher-ups with the technicians. They say that running the show while the Captain was on leave wound up being too much stress for him.” “He did a good job hiding it,” said Zeyal, thoughtfully. “But then, the old man’s always had a good poker face. Garrick, did you hear about this?” Garrick kept his face carefully neutral. “It wasn’t supposed to be announced until the Captain met with us all,” he replied. “But since that’s about five minutes from know, I suppose knowing can’t hurt. It’s true, Osaze’s retiring.” Thoko gave a little satisfied ha, and Zeyal gave a low whistle of amazement. “Hard to imagine what this outfit’s going to be like without him ordering us around all the time,” Zeyal said. “I wonder who’s going to replace him?” Garrick said nothing as the second ‘all clear’ rang out and the dropship’s doors began to hiss open. She was definitely going to kill him for not telling her. - - - Dozens of black stretch limousines pulled up on the tarmac, flying the Eden’s Guard emblem on flags, and parked in front of the dropship. Chauffeurs stepped out and opened the doors, presenting them for people to get in. Penelope and her family walked up to the growing crowd, and waved her arms to get people’s attention. “Hey everyone! What’s cuter than a baby?” she called out, gesturing to Randall. Once everyone’s attention as on him, he spun around, revealing the other baby. A wave of laughter rippled through the crowd, and people came to swarm and inspect the babies and give their congratulations to Penelope and Randall. Penelope clapped her hands and bellowed, “All right everyone! You’ve all had a long ass trip, crammed into that Dropship, so I’ve arranged for a New Year’s party! There’ll be food, booze, and one hell of an announcement! Once you’re good’n drunk in the morning, our Limos will bring us to our hotel. Happy New Year, everyone!” Everyone took their time to stretch and talk, but gradually, the entire Company found their way into the limousines, which brought them to a park along the river, with a section having been roped off specifically for them. There were a few food stands and even more bars. Once everyone had arrived, Penelope found a stool to stand on, and held up a microphone. “Hello Eden’s Guard!” They all cheered. “And welcome to Terra! I’m so proud of all of you. You’ve done phenomenal work, and I have a couple of announcements to make. First and foremost! WE’RE GETTING RATED!” The entire crowd exploded into cheers and whoops, hugs, and chugging of beer. Penelope goaded them into cheering further, which they obliged. “This means that, in the next couple of weeks, we’ve got lots of paperwork and inventory to do. But it also means we’ll be picking out our first full Company-sized contract! We’re in the Big Leagues now! “And two more things, two more things, let’s bring it down a bit. I know you’ve spent the last couple of years with Osaze in command. Unfortunately, he’s decided to spend time with his remaining limbs, and he will be retiring. I want to thank Osaze for his years of service not just with the Eden’s Guard, but with the Star League; his career goes back decades, and he fought alongside my father on Operation Bulldog; Osaze, you’ve been a mentor and a guide for us all. I love you dearly, and you’ll be missed.” The crowd applauded and cheered, and someone started to sing ‘For He’s a Jolly Good Fellow’, which spread throughout. When the song came to an end, Penelope held up the microphone again. “But as one era fades, another comes to take its place. I’ll be taking over as CO again, but I think you all know Osaze’s successor. He’s been with us for a few years now, he’s our top pilot, and you all know him as a man of honor. Garrick, would you say a few words?” Penelope stepped down from the stool, and handed the microphone to Garrick, who had strode forward from the crowd. The rest of the company cheered and hollered. “Thank you, Captain. Thank you, everybody. Zeyal, I’m sorry that I didn’t tell you beforehand.” “I’m going to get you for this, you sneaky surat!” Zeyal shouted back, drawing a laugh from the crowd. “I have no doubt,” replied Garrick, with a theatrical wince. “But truly, thank you, everybody. When Zeyal and I left our Clan, it was the most difficult and heartbreaking decision we ever made. We weren’t sure if we would ever find a place where we would truly belong again. Now here we are, three years later, and not only have you become a new Clan--a new family--to us, but you’re presenting me with one of the greatest honors I can imagine. I will work with everything that I am to be equal to the trust you have placed in me.” There was more cheering and several calls of “Aaaaawwww!” as he turned and offered the microphone to Penelope. Penelope accepted the microphone back from him, “Thank you, Garrick. I’m looking forward to having you as my First Officer. Now that’s been said, we’ve got less than an hour till midnight! I want you to eat, drink, and be merry, for tomorrow! Well, tomorrow we nurse hangovers, but you know what I mean! Go on and party! It’s fifty minutes to midnight! Make them the best this year!” Captain Penelope “Dime” Trumbull Commanding Officer, Eden’s Guard Security & Logistics Corporation Lance Leader, Apple Lance KIM-3C Komodo And 1st Lieutenant Garrick “Canis” Wolf Commanding Officer, Eden’s Guard Security & Logistics Corporation Lance Leader, Wolf Lance SHD-5D Shadow Hawk 10:15 3/15/3097 Dyrnwyn, Toronto Spaceport Toronto, Canada, Terra Free World’s League Penelope drove up in the World Rover onto the tarmac, where the Staff Officers were waiting. She banged to the right and drove in a circle, giving everyone a good look at the vehicle, leaning into the curve. “See what I’ve got? Brand new, too!” she called out after bringing it to a full stop. Standing among the officers, Garrick allowed himself a small smile. Even after three months, he was still occasionally reminded how much he’d missed his CO. “It was really funny,” continued Penelope. “Everyone at Alice Springs was eager to help me along-I guess things’ve been pretty slow since the Marik takeover-but when they gave me the receipt for registered equipment and personnel, they missed the Dirty Feet. Our Engineering platoons. Which are our biggest single asset. When I pointed it out, they freaked out, ran around the office like a bunch of headless chickens, made the correction, apologized, and gave us-“ she gestured to the vehicle, “A BRAND NEW CAR! Not that we have a place to put it. It’ll have to go into cargo. Ah, well. Anyway.” Penelope stepped out of the vehicle and stretched, “Let’s head inside to the Conference room. We’ve got a bit to talk about.” The Dyrnwyn had been modified to accommodate the fact that they had so many people, as opposed to Battlemechs, which the Union was specifically designed for. They’ve built the conference room to hold nearly a hundred people, but there was plenty of room now with only the two dozen officers and NCO’s they had. Penelope stood at the head of the room, and waited for everyone to settle in. “So, great news: We’re officially an MRBC sanctioned, rated, and bonded Mercenary Company!” Everyone gave a brief round of applause. “We’ve worked for over a decade to get to this point, and I’m proud of all of you. It also means we can take the really juicy contracts, and I’ve got just the one in mind. Normally we couldn’t take it, but someone at the Commission likes me, so they pulled some strings for us to get this contract. But we’ve got to move quickly, and we can’t talk about it except what you need to know. There are manila folders on the desk with your names on them. These are eyes-only. Memorize them, and keep them to yourselves. Most of you, I won’t be telling the full briefing to. It’s only got what you need to know to get ready.” Garrick nodded slowly, slipping the envelope into his jacket pocket as a slight tingle ran up his spine. It wasn’t that keeping secrets was exactly unprecedented in Eden’s Guard--plans of attack, covert ops, those sorts of things were frequently made on a need-to-know basis. But something about the way Penelope was talking right now gave him the sense that there was something more going on with this job. “What I can tell all of you, and what you can tell your subordinates, is that we’re headed to Ohrensen, in the Free Worlds League. We’ve been contracted to conduct some development there, and run security for essential infrastructure. It won’t look any different from what we’re used to in a lot of ways, but trust me, this one will be a lively one. Once you have your folder, you may tend to your duties. Wolf, Poke, Lamb, and Park, please remain behind for the full briefing. She waited a few minutes for everyone else to leave, until it was just the five of them. Garrick glanced around nervously. Not too long ago, he would’ve been one of the officers who had been asked to leave. The intel privileges that came with his new position were going to take some getting used to. “Now for the full thing. We’re being hired by the Capellans not to build up a League world, but to make it easy for them to move in,” Penelope brought up a projector of a map of the region. Ohrensen wasn’t exactly along the border, but it was near enough, and close to several other worlds. Its position and importance was clear just from the map. “So they’re looking for a foothold,” said Garrick. “Someplace to use as a staging ground to take a bite out of the League’s territory.” The other three officers nodded, clearly thinking the same thing, and Penelope tilted her head towards Garrick. “Staging ground is what I was thinking, too. The Governor here is known for being more than a bit corrupt, and it’s allowed triads to take power. The Capellans want to find out if the Governor is friendly to the Capellans or not, and if not, get the Triads primed for a coup.” “From everything I’ve read about the world, it seems fragile, economically. Very concentrated in the big settlements. I want to leave a stable, solid planet for our employers. They’re deeply concerned about keeping the planet profitable, but I think that’s short-sighted of them. We want our employers to move in, of course, but we can do better than ‘overthrow the governor and don’t blow up anything important.’ We want the planet politically stable, too. “The Triads have a lot of legitimate business fronts. That’s what I want to focus our development aspect on: Making it so that legitimate and clean business is good for them. That means roads, water, electricity to underdeveloped areas. The idea is that we cause enough of a stir with our activity that both the Governor and the Triads will come out and talk to us, and we can take their temperature that way. “The biggest threat is the Governor. If he’s not open to switching sides, then we’ll have to deal with his Militia, which we don’t expect to be very big. We cannot endanger vital infrastructure of the planet, and if the League sends reinforcements, we’ll have to bug out.” Garrick sat for a moment, letting his mind absorb the full implications of everything he had just been told. He hadn’t been wrong before; this was another level of cloak-and-dagger stuff. He’d done garrison work, fought under other people’s flags for other people’s causes, even done the odd bit of opportunistic rating, but this? He felt like a knife in somebody’s hand, being slid quietly but firmly into somebody else’s back. And the worst part was, he was having trouble putting faces on those people. “Okay, so say we get in and find somebody who’s willing to play ball with the Capellans,” he said out loud, in an attempt to clear away his thoughts. “What happens after that?” “Once a friendly administration is in place, we send a message to the Capellans, and wait for them to tell us to bugger off,” said Penelope. “Then we bugger off and get paid. Any questions?” “No, ma’am,” said the four senior officers in a chorus. As a matter of fact, Garrick did have a number of questions, but they didn’t feel like the kind that the Captain would be able to answer. His hand found its way to the envelope in his pocket. No matter. He had orders, and that, at least, was something he understood instinctively. Penelope had earned his loyalty several times over, and if she decided to wade into murky waters, he would be right there to back her up. Captain Penelope “Dime” Trumbull Commanding Officer, Eden’s Guard Security & Logistics Corporation Lance Leader, Apple Lance KIM-3C Komodo And 1st Lieutenant Garrick “Canis” Wolf Commanding Officer, Eden’s Guard Security & Logistics Corporation Lance Leader, Wolf Lance SHD-5D Shadow Hawk 15:35 4/03/3097 Dyrnwyn Hall System, Free World’s League A paper note and data drive is delivered to Garrick Wolf at his quarters, both marked ‘Top Secret’ in bold, red letters. Garrick, I know you aren’t used to this kind of work. You’re a Mechwarrior, and a Clanner, and you’ve got your honor and your pride, and this is a much dirtier op than we’re used to. No pirates or rebellion upstart to put down, all black and white and clean; right now, there is no conflict on Ohrensen, and we’re about to start one. It’s a disservice to write you a note with all of this, but I’ve got about thirty more to write, and less than a month to compile everything. I know you’re a professional and you’ll do what you’re expected; Osaze wouldn’t have offered you as his replacement if he didn’t think you were up to the job. That doesn’t mean that your thoughts and reservations, if you have any, are invalid. I want you to know that if you have questions or concerns, we’ll listen, even if you getting a letter under your door is how I let you know, you can talk about this sort of thing with anyone in the upper staff. For a lot of us, this is going to be the first ‘Fish Op’ (We’re doing some fishy shit, e.g. ‘Fish Op’) we’ve had in years; some of the new guys might see the tarnish in our knight-in-shining-armor image for stirring up shit where there wasn’t any before. The Captain’s pulled us through clean on the other side on this sort of thing before; she’s devious like that. It may seem counterintuitive, but keeping to our values is most important when we’re pulling a job like this. When we’re causing this kind of trouble and putting people in harm’s way is when we must hold ourselves to the highest of standards. It’s easy to stoop to their level, or take the simplest and most explosive way through because we’re doing something naughty anyway. We’re doctors, engineers, scientists, and lawyers. We have VTOL pilots with PHD’s in Psychology. This is intentional, because these skills, knowledge, and expertise is what we’re paid to bring to bear, as much as we’re paid to blow things up. We leave worlds in better shape than we’d arrived to. Even when we’re doing some fishy things like this. Keep that in mind; people are going to be looking to your for an example and leadership when they have the greatest doubts. Prove that they’re unfounded. We met with our employer contact while on Liberty, Sang-wei Song Yongjia, and he gave us the full dossier on our mission. I’ve picked it apart and attached what you need to know, and gave you some recommendations for you to work from. Most of it’s redundant and was already in the manila folder you received. He won’t be joining us, as he has other operations to attend to. You didn’t miss much; he wasn’t exactly a conversationalist. If you have any questions, I’m always at your disposal, Leftenant. Regards, Leftenant Park Magdalene Eden’s Guard Critical Security Services DATADISK MEMO EYES ONLY, KEEP SECURE DO NOT DISTRIBUTE DO NOT DOWNLOAD PLEASE ENTER SECURITY ACCESS MRBC USERNAME: gawoegmu3wp5 PASSWORD: *********** CLIENT SECRET ACCESS RECOGNIZED ACCESS GRANTED WELCOME, LEFTENANT WOLF DECRYPTION………COMPLETE CONTRACT: FW-SD-04-08 EMPLOYER: MASKIROVKA, CONFEDERATED MAGISTRACY INTELLIGENCE SERVICES PLANET: OHRENSEN, FREE WORLDS LEAGUE PARAMETERS: Gauge planetary leadership & syndicates’ friendliness and readiness to defect to the Confederated Magistracy/Capellan Confederation DIRECTORY > Director Shoga Leow > Planetary Militia > Capellan Triads > Other Groups > Recommended Plan DIRECTOR SHOGA LEOW > AGE: 48 > BIRTHPLACE: BARGSTEDT, OHRENSEN >> Director Shoga Leow holds not only the dubious position of Director of the planet, but is also the >> leader of the Triad families on Ohrensen. He was born into the Shoga triad family, and he forged an >> alliance with his first wife, Mary Berkowitz, to obtain legitimacy, as she is well-regarded by the civilian >> population. Director Shoga gained in popularity and power from 3069-3074 by playing his rivals into >> causing damage to planetary infrastructure, and then buying the damaged property. He was >> recognized as the planetary Director in 3076 by the planet’s legislature, which is little more than a >> meeting ground for the Triads. >> >> Once recognized as the Director, Shoga conducted purges of the Planet’s militia, hiring former FWLM >> soldiers to take over the organization. Once the purge was complete, he took to using the Militia to >> keep rivals and rebellions in check. This, along with his infidelity, led to a violent separation from his >> former ally and wife, who was reduced back to the street-level organization she and Leow had come >> from. Controlling vital infrastructure and in charge of both the Militia and his own Shoga triad, the >> Director is the undisputed power on Ohrensen. >> >> While he is the undisputed power, that does not mean he is in control. Director Shoga does not so >> much lead or even rule as he possesses power making him the strongest. He stokes rivalry between >> the Triads on Ohrensen, leading to a culture of constant bickering and fighting on the planet. >> Because he controls the major infrastructure on the planet, he discourages further development and >> pockets investment funds, keeping the loot flowing to the other families just enough to keep them >> from turning against him, but just little enough that they turn on each other. >> >> Because of this, he is resented by basically everyone. The Free World’s League sees him as keeping >> the peace but still a corruption. The Triads envy his power and loathe his manipulations. The >> Planetary Militia dislikes the substandard equipment, training, and discipline he deigns to provide. >> The citizens chafe under the current system, even in the cities, and the remote areas are so under- >> developed so as to be lawless. FAMILY: > Mary Berkowitz, Ex-Wife, Age 50 >> Divorced 3078, Mary Berkowitz is a person of interest as a street-level Triad organizer whose career >> has been capped due to their falling out in regards to Director Shoga’s infidelity and disagreements >> over running the planet. >> >> Berkowitz is a possible viable replacement for Director Shoga due to her connections, capability, >> and history. >> > Shoga Lin, Wife, age 36 >> Married 3078, Shoga née Chen Lin is the daughter of Chen Leung, another Triad family. >> Their affair broke Director Leow’s marriage but also cemented an alliance between the Chen and >> Shoga families. Lin is not known as being as active as her predecessor in running planetary affairs. >> > Shoga Ken, Son, Age 20 >> The oldest and heir to the Director, Ken is being groomed to take his father’s place one day. Currently >> a Lieutenant in the Planetary Militia, he is training to become a Mechwarrior, and seems >> genuinely enthusiastic in his studies and position-to-be. >> > Shoga Patrick, Son, Age 19 >> In many ways, Patrick is the closest thing that the planet has to a superstar, having been propped up >> by his parents as a musical and artistic prodigy from a young age. While genuinely talented, Shoga >> Patrick’s performances and galleries are often used as convenient excuses for Triad meetings. >> > Shoga Liyana, Daughter, Age 17 >> First child of Chen Lin and Shoga Leow, she is reportedly in an arranged marriage set for 2 years from >> now with a member of the Hoover Triad. >> > Shoga Jinping, Son, Age 15 >> Jinping is a seemingly normal fifteen-year-old boy. PLANETARY MILITIA > Estimated Size: Plus-sized Mechanized Company, Battalion Infantry > Leader: Captain Janee Daw, Age 53 > > Composition >> Infantry >>> Each city has something resembling a police department, but they tend to be small, scattered, and >>> operating at the whim of the Triads. >>> >>> The Militia operates a number of special strike platoons which handle high-intensity combat >>> situations. They are known to have missile troops and well-trained snipers. >>> >> Heavy Vehicles >>> The Ohrensen Militia has several Heavy and Medium tanks to fill in gaps in their Mechwarrior >>> Company. >>> >> Light Vehicles >>> Their Light Vehicles are almost all transport or support vehicles, focusing on anti-infantry. >>> >> Battlemechs >>> The Ohrensen Militia is known to have Battlemechs, but is not believed to have any over 55 tons, >>> and has fewer than 10. Most of the machines are old >>> >> VTOLs >>> The Militia has a number of VTOLs, mostly for transportation, though they have at least a Lance of >>> attack VTOLs as well. >>> > NOTES >> The Ohrensen Militia is well armed and its core members consist of former FWLM personnel. While >> somewhat substantial, the Militia is almost always spread thing and deployed putting down Triad >> fighting all over the planet, and they are ill-supplied, as much of the weaponry and ammo gets filched >> by the very Triads they fight and serve. >> >> Captain Daw is a veteran of the 3076 strife within the Free Worlds League, having picked the wrong >> side as a young officer. Disgraced and shunned by the pro-Alys factions, Captain Daw was asked to >> become Captain of the Militia in 3083, and brought many of her veterans with her. >> >> Since taking the job, Captain Daw has done the Director’s dirtywork and has profited greatly from it. >> Strife between the aging Veterans and the new, locally-recruited and trained soldiers divide her >> command, and corruption prevents them from being adequately armed or supplied. CAPELLAN TRIADS > The Triad families of Ohrensen are constantly squabbling with one another over resources and > territory. Encouraged to fight by the Director, only his power keeps the planet from splitting apart at > the seams along these familial lines, though intermarriage politics do promise long-term peace. > > It should be noted that very few of the rivalries are personal; only the Bouknight family seems to > actually keep grudges. The other Triad families play the game of trading resources and territory, > however intense it may be. This allows them to make and break alliances with impunity, though > the introduction of inter-Triad marriages has changed this in recent years. > > Shoga Triad >> Led by Director Shoga Leow, the Shoga Triad’s main source of income is control of the government >> and major infrastructure, including the power systems and major manufacturing >> > Berkowitz Triad >> The Berkowitz Triad is weak but well-connected at the street level all over the planet, peddling drugs >> but also providing essential services to underserved communities. >> > Chen Triad >> The Chen Triad is one of the more powerful Triads and is allied to the Shoga triad through the >> Director’s marriage to Chen Leung. They control the spaceports and interstellar travel. They were >> founded by legitimate businessmen attempting to maintain control after the Capellan retreat. >> > Hoover Triad >> Relatively recent immigrants, the Hoover family was a rival of the Shoga and Chen Triads when they >> arrived in 3067. They seized power with advanced weaponry and racketeering, and fighting lasted >> until recently. Reportedly, they are marrying into the Shoga triad. >> > Xi Triad >> The Xi triad controls sea travel, and is the best connected to the remote regions of the planet, using >> their knowledge to smuggle throughout the planet where the Militia and police can’t find them. >> Ardent opponents of the Shoga Triad, they are starting to see where the wind is blowing, politically. >> >> The Xi’s militant arm is allegedly led by a Clan warrior, who keeps order by keeping his warriors sharp >> in competitive combat trials. He is also the second-in-command of the Triad. >> > Bouknight Triad >> The Bouknight Triad is the oldest family on Ohrensen, predating the FWL presence. The Bouknights >> have always maintained their Capellan identity and are well-connected in the ConMag. The >> Bouknights insist they are the rightful rulers of the planet, putting a wedge between them and the >> Shoga triad and its allies. >> OTHER GROUPS > Vigilantes >> Outside of the cities, there is little infrastructure or anything resembling law. While the Xi triad >> smuggles through the remote parts of the planet, their influence is fleeting and their routes are >> constantly shifting. Because there is need for law, it comes in the form of vigilante posses which may >> form in response to some incident or another. These posses often double as disaster relief, as well, >> when official aid is wanting. Consisting almost entirely of armed locals, some regions may have an >> official sheriff to organize them. >> > The Marshals >> A self-styled Law Enforcement agency, the Marshals seek to bring formal law and order to >> Ohrensens. Ill-funded and with limited influence, they are not taken seriously by the Triads, but >> whenever there is a crime they aren’t responsible for, a Marshal is often called in, even inside the >> cities, though they are largely active in the countryside, leading vigilante posses. >> > Ohrensen Shadow Cabinet >> The closes thing to an opposition government, the Shadow Cabinet is ostensibly a Democratically >> elected think-tank which offers alternative policy proposals and advocates for governmental and >> services reform. Lacking any kind of real authority, the Shadow Cabinet is really controlled by a >> handful of intellectuals who dominate the Cabinet’s proceedings with needless minutiae. >> > Covenant of Blake >> The Covenant of Blake controls all HPG activity in the League, and Ohrensen is not an exception. The >> Covenant maintains a Class B facility on the planet, with enough militant personnel to keep the >> facility safe from any one of the Triads from taking it or causing damage to the HPG. RECOMMENDED PLAN > General Strategy >> Eden’s Guard is officially on Ohrensen to develop essential infrastructure for underserved towns, >> funneling investment money from various League and Capellan charities to fund our activities. >> >> While we construct roads and schools reaching from the cities to the surrounding areas, we will >> attract the attention of the Director and the Triads, who will inevitably attempt to embezzle our >> operations or solicit bribes from us to allow us to proceed. If it prevents violence, these bribes should >> generally be paid, but only by Payroll-access personnel, under ‘Consulting Fees.’ >> >> We actually want our construction and outreach efforts to proceed, so construction should not stop >> under any circumstances. Blue Helm personnel are permitted to engage or arrest individuals >> attempting sabotage. >> >> Our presence will certainly destabilize the situation on Ohrensen, which is what we will be using to >> make our ‘in’ with the various factions. We will make promises with each group and gain their trust, >> and make an assessment to the satisfaction of our employer. >> >> Ohrensen is underdeveloped due to the corruption on this planet, and the Triads will not be pleased >> with the new status quo under the Capellans unless they change their strategies. By building >> infrastructure that reaches to the remote provinces, we will be employing workers through >> legitimate busineses and be creating new opportunities the Triads may not have considered. It is >> hoped that the profitability of legitimate business will outweigh the power games of the current >> system, and the groups will begin investing on their own as they see the changes as being in their >> best interest. >> >> We have no delusions of a trickle-down strategy having any value; we won’t be able to talk the Triads >> into changing their ways. Only a bottom-up strategy will pay dividends. After we have started >> expanding basic transportation, power, and businesses, we will illustrate to the Triads the >> opportunities to be had in their own planet by investing and fostering real growth, rather than >> playing tug-of-war with what already exists. >> >> This expansion strategy will be paired with local empowerment and relief; many remote regions have >> little access to healthcare, power, or clean water. We will be assisting local governments and towns >> to organize and lead themselves, which will create a viable power base that would be an effective >> counter to the Director’s influence, and make a transition easier. This will also make the world be >> worth more to our employer in the long-term, as local empowerment is the key to fostering a >> capable labor and intellectual force that the Capellans can use to keep the system. >> > Director Leow >> The Shoga Triad and Director Loew in particular benefit from the status quo, and will likely oppose >> the Eden’s Guard’s attempts to expand basic services into places he can’t control. However, Captain >> Trumbull will consult directly with the Director, and use the opportunity to illustrate the purpose of >> the investment, and how he, personally, can profit from expansion and development of his world. >> >> While the Director’s mind is on the power and profit, we will ingratiate ourselves into his >> organization, making him dependent on our operation. Within a few months, we expect both the >> Director and the Triads to be wholly dependent on Eden’s Guard for expanding their operations and >> leading the new situation, even to the point they will rely on us for negotiating between Triads. >> >> Once they are dependent on us, we will determine the Director’s loyalties. If he is open to a Capellan >> takeover, we will prepare him and the Militia for the change. If he is unwilling to share power or loyal >> to the FWL, we will depose him and leave either his son or one of the other pro-Capellan Triad >> leaders in power. >> >> If we must arrest and overthrow the Director, it ought to be as quickly and by surprise as possible. A >> shooting match between Eden’s Guard and the Planetary Militia would leave both groups vulnerable >> to outside interference. Blue Helms, Gardner Lance, and Triad allies would conduct the actual >> operation, keeping the Militia and police forces unaware of what is going on. >> >> Should the Director be willing to assist the Capellans, we would keep him in power and use his >> influence to keep the Militia from staging a revolt, and keep the Triads focused and maintaining >> leadership on Ohrensen that the Capellans can make use of. >> >> One way or another, the Director will have to be dealing with an empowered populace and an >> expanding Triad. We must make him see these changes as an asset rather than as a threat, probably >> in the form of an advisor’s council consisting of civilians leadership and Triad heads, which would >> allow those groups of extract long-term value from the Director and his offices. >> > The Triads >> As stated, the Triads will inevitably attempt to racketeer our efforts. Bribes should be paid, but as we >> have success, the Triads will see our efforts as having value, and give us our in. A great deal of our >> labor and materials will come from legitimate businesses owned and operated by these groups. >> >> We should also attempt to purchase weaponry and pharmaceuticals from the Triads directly, which >> will catch the attention of their leadership. We want to know what kind of material they are capable >> of moving, and we want them to know that we’re serious about our presence on Ohrensen. If things >> go south or otherwise turn violent, we’ll need a few extra guns to make things painful for whoever >> we end up shooting at. >> >> NOTE: Garrick, you may be the best person to approach the Triads in negotiations for weaponry. >> Whatever it is they may have to sell, make it clear that we want a lot of it, and force the Triads to >> work together to fulfill the order. We’ll resell the weapons to the Capellans later. >> > Planetary Militia >> Our greatest concern is that the Planetary Militia is going to be fiercely loyal to the FWL, and refuse >> to defect along with the rest of the planet. In that case, hopefully, our Triad connections will be >> enough to cause them to fall into infighting, or we will make the first strike. >> >> In either case, we want to keep as much of the Militia’s equipment intact so that we can reuse it later >> if we must. If we can’t expect to do that, then we will conduct sabotage missions to destroy and >> disable the equipment if at all possible. >> >> If a shooting match occurs, we will lead the Militia into favorable territory away from essential or >> Eden’s Guard infrastructure, and strike at their Battlemech assets first. >> >> It is our hope that Captain Daw’s disenfranchisement from the FWLM is enough of a wedge that they >> will not oppose a Capellan occupation. >> > Marshals >> The Marshals are the closest thing to a legitimate government organization on Ohrensen. In the >> event of total collapse of the government and its supporting elements, the Marshals would be the >> next group to leave in power, but given their lack of resoruces, they would be wholly dependent on >> our services until Capellan relief and occupation arrives. >> >> Outside of this worst-case scenario, the Marshals are the best asset to use to expand local power and >> create new, provincial governments as we instruct them on proper law enforcement procedure and >> local government functionality. Armed with new resources and knowledge, the Marshals will spread >> these ideas to their dependencies, and we should see these ideas find natural adoption. >> > Shadow Cabinet >> The Shadow Cabinet wields no power and few of their ideas are of worth. They may be useful in >> establishing an advisory council or a new government, but they have nothing of interest to the coup. >> > Covenant of Blake >> There is no indication that the Covenant has much influence on the planet other than their standard >> operations. They don’t even recruit locally; they import all their personnel. If we require interdiction, >> we should ERROR >> > ADDITIONAL INFORMATION ON SUBJECT (COVENANT OF BLAKE) WITHHELD > GAIA PROTOCOL INFORMATION > AUTHORIZATION CODE REQUIRED > ENTER CODE: *********** > INSUFFICIENT CLEARANCE > ACCESS DENIED Captain Penelope “Dime” Trumbull Commanding Officer, Eden’s Guard Security & Logistics Corporation Lance Leader, Apple Lance KIM-3C Komodo 4/25/3097 03:25 Dyrnwyn landing site Outside of Bargstedt Ohrensen System, Free World’s League Penelope decided that despite having spent two years away from her unit bearing and rearing the twins, she still preferred that to remaining cramped in the Dropship for over a month at a time. Fresh air and personal space were essential luxuries, she told herself. Everyone needed them, especially when they had as many people in the ship as they did. One of the first things she was going to do was buy another ship so people had more room. Cramming everyone into modified ‘Mech bays made everyone feel more like cargo than Mercenaries. Standing at the base of the Dropship as the crews started to unload cargo and set up barrack tents, Penelope grinned at the hard work everyone was already putting in. She missed this. She missed them. Penelope pulled out a chewing stick and slipped it between her teeth, when the sound of a fussing baby interrupted her train of thought. Just another lifetime of that noise to deal with, only now she had two at a time to worry about. This was what had made the trip here so much tougher, Penelope realized; she didn’t have more space on the ship, yet she shared it with two more people that selfishly refused to bathe, feed, or clean themselves. She knelt before her son, and wiped his nose with a napkin, “What is it, babe?” He whimpered at her. “New planet, huh? Yeah, new planets always smell weird. You’ll get used to it. Least I hope so, I don’t want you thinking of this place as home,” Penelope said. Not wanting Rhona to get fussy, Penelope wiped the girl’s face, too, gave them each a kiss on the head, and rocked their carrier for a few minutes until they drifted off to sleep. Small favors that they were already used to the sound of heavy machinery while they slept. “You know those can cause nerve damage right?” Caitir asked, gesturing to the chewstick. “So can stress,” Penelope said. “I’m not sure if that’s true.” “Stress causes everything. You remember the deal, right?” “No going anywhere or doing anything alone,” Caitir rolled her eyes, “No exploring, talking to strangers, or doing anything ever.” “That’s not true and you know it.” “Of course. Mom, I’ve been doing this since I was five.” “It’s been a while, and you’ve changed.” “Mom, it was only two years ago that we were on some other planet.” “Yes, and you were fourteen then. You’re sixteen now. The difference between fourteen and fifteen aren’t that big, but the difference between fourteen and sixteen is huge.” “Mom, there are four other teenagers in the unit. I’ve known them my entire life. I’m going to meet some locals, and I’m not spending my entire time here in the garage with Dad.” “I didn’t say don’t,” Penelope insisted, “I said remember the rules. Be careful. And enjoy yourself wherever you can. But no booze. Or boys.” “But girls are OK?” “Just don’t bring any home.” “I only promise to be safe, and to stay chaperoned.” “Good enough,” Penelope kissed her daughter on the forehead, “I gotta go make some calls about renting out some office buildings. Don’t want to spend this whole time working out of a tent like on Jabuka.” “Oh, the rain,” Caitir agreed with a groan, “I’m gonna go play with shotguns, mum. Loveya.” “Love you, too, honey. Remember to check the chambers.” Captain Penelope “Dime” Trumbull Commanding Officer, Eden’s Guard Security & Logistics Corporation Lance Leader, Apple Lance KIM-3C Komodo 4/26/3097 10:15 “Road” outside of Bargstedt Ohrensen System, Free Worlds League The car jolted sharply as it went over a particularly deep pothole, rattling all its contents, including the driver and passenger. “Fucking hell!” yelped Thoko. “With all due respect, sir, this is a car, not a Mech. You should try driving it like one.” “Is this you volunteering to drive?” asked Garrick. “Because I’d be only too happy to let somebody else deal with these roads.” “Not at all, sir,” replied Thoko. “I just thought you might appreciate some feedback from the lower ranks.” The dark-skinned woman punctuated this statement with one of the most impressive shit-eating grins Garrick had ever seen. “What exactly are we supposed to be picking up all the way out here, anyway?” she continued. “This seems really out-of-the-way for a supply run.” “Weapons,” Garrick grunted in reply as he swerved to avoid a large rock. Thoko blinked at him. “Weapons,” she repeated in a dubious tone. “Weapons,” Garrick affirmed. “You need your ears checked, Thoko?” Thoko looked like she was going to say something in reply--given her track record, Garrick guessed it would be something along the lines of You might need your brain checked--but she decided against it. The two rode along in silence (aside from a few more jolts) for a minute before she spoke up again. “Okay. I’m going to ask you to be level with me here. Sir. We have plenty of weapons, and we know how to get more if we need them. So what are we really doing out here?” Garrick couldn’t help a slight smile. Underneath the endless impertinence, Thoko had an incredibly sharp mind--that was why he’d brought her along for this. “I wasn’t lying to you, Thoko,” he said. “We are coming out here to buy weapons. We just aren’t buying them because we need them.” “But that doesn’t make any--” Thoko cut herself off, a thought occurring to her. “Oh. Oh damn. So we’re making a shopping trip to find out who’s running the store?” “Basically.” Garrick steered to the left to avoid a small fissure. “I can’t really get into the whys and wherefores just yet, but the Captain wants us keeping an eye on the Triads, the local crime groups. Particularly the ones who might be opposed to the governor if the situation here hit the boiling point.” “And shopping for guns is the easiest way to find a crime syndicate. Neat.” Thoko turned and stared out the window for a few seconds before turning back to Garrick. “Wait, syndicates that might be opposed to the governor… are we angling to stop them, or are we…?” She let the question trail off. Garrick kept his face expressionless, though he knew that the studied neutrality would be a dead giveaway to somebody who knew him as well as his lancemate did. “You trust the Captain, Thoko?” “Of course,” she said. “And you trust me?” “Sure.” “Then I’m afraid I’m going to have to ask you to accept the situation on that trust for the time being.” He risked taking his eyes off the road for a few seconds to glance over and lock eyes with Thoko. “When it becomes important for you to know more, I’ll tell you more. I promise.” Thoko nodded slowly, and the rest of the drive was made in silence. 1st Lieutenant Garrick “Canis” Wolf Commanding Officer, Eden’s Guard Security & Logistics Corporation Lance Leader, Wolf Lance SHD-5D Shadow Hawk 4/26/3097 11:00 Village of Torende Ohrensen System, Free Worlds League Garrick pulled the car into the village, creeping carefully along the main road at what he hoped was a sensible speed for a civilian area. The streets here were at least better maintained than the road from Barghest, although that wasn’t a high bar to clear, and the pavement was riddled with obvious patch-and-fill jobs. It was quiet, too, even considering that he hadn’t expected it to be bustling to begin with; only a handful of people were going about the streets. Most of them stopped and openly goggled at the fancy new car that had unexpectedly graced their village with its presence. “Shit,” remarked Thoko, “I think some of those buildings are made of wood.” “Shit indeed,” Garrick agreed. “I was told that things were rougher out away from the major cities, but this is a bit worse than I was expecting.” “Government’s not too interested in taking care of the boonies, I take it?” “‘Terminally corrupt’ might be a bit of an understatement here,” said Garrick. “My understanding is that the planetary Director is the head of one of the triads, so the planet’s essentially being run by organized crime.” Thoko whistled. “And we’re here to kick the hornet’s nest.” “It’s a great job, isn’t it?” Garrick consulted the map on his dataslate. “Ah, here we are. Stay sharp, Thoko; this is going to be a bit of a delicate operation.” - - - Magdalene had helpfully provided Garrick with a couple of names to inquire after, as well as a few carefully worded phrases designed to pique interest, and so it was that within a quarter hour of arriving at what could generously be described as a small office complex, he and Thoko were in a small room sitting across a table from a young man with an immaculate suit and haircut that contrasted oddly with the shabbiness of the surroundings. “My humblest greetings to you,” the young man was saying. “My name is Xi Voski, and I’ve been told that you are interested in acquiring certain specialty items.” “You have been told correctly,” Garrick said. “My name is Garrick Wolf, and this is my associate Thokozani Pretorius. We’re with the Eden’s Guard mercenary company.” He winced as Thoko kicked him lightly under the table. Voski’s brow creased in wary puzzlement. “Wolf?” Ah. Damn. “Er, yes,” replied Garrick, thinking quickly. “That’s W-U-L-F-E. Not like the animal.” He made his best attempt at a disarming smile. “People are always telling me I sound like some kind of Clanner, with a name like that.” “Indeed,” Voski said, relaxing visibly despite a trace of dubiousness. “Not that Clanners are unheard of in these parts--we have one on our payroll, as a matter of fact--but I always find it better to deal with, well,” he smiled patronizingly, “normal people.” “Of course,” Garrick smiled back at him, making a mental note that the rumors of the Clanner in the Xi Triad were true, and then a second mental note that he found this Xi Voski to be incredibly irritating. “Now, if we could discuss our business…” “Of course,” Voski said, clasping his hands in front of him. “Our organization specializes in procuring specialty goods through… various channels. We also offer assistance in overcoming any bureaucratic obstacles to delivery of these goods.” Such as local customs laws, thought Garrick, and from the small huff of breath Thoko let out, he could tell she was thinking the same thing. “It sounds as if you are ideally placed to handle our requests, then,” he said. “As you might have heard, Eden’s Guard has been contracted to assist in a variety of infrastructure projects planetwide. Naturally, security is a major concern for an operation of this scope, and while we are prepared to defend our assets, we can’t be everywhere at once. We were hoping to procure weapons to arm a number of ad hoc security teams for some of the lower-risk project sites.” “You have come to the right place indeed,” said Voski, flashing a set of brilliant white teeth at them. “Do you know what sort of volume you’re looking at acquiring?” “Oh, for the scope of operations that we’re looking at, we’re going to need…” Garrick looked over at Thoko, “several hundred personal weapons?” She nodded. “At least, if not more than a thousand. And maybe a quarter that many heavier emplacement weapons. And if it’s possible to procure replacements for BattleMech-mounted weapons, we may need that option in reserve for repair jobs.” She smiled sweetly at Voski, who was looking extremely rattled. “I, ah.” The young man produced a handkerchief from his breast pocket and wiped at his brow. “I am afraid I am going to need to consult with… certain sources in order to meet an order of this magnitude.” Garrick frowned, a bit theatrically. “I hope this won’t be a problem for you to supply?” “No, no! I simply need to… coordinate with other branches of our operation in order to cover the necessary logistical needs…” Garrick felt Thoko’s hand on his shoulder. “That’s fine, of course,” she said. “We can appreciate how much goes into these sorts of deliveries. My boss will leave his contact information with you, and you can get in touch when you’ve made the arrangements.” “Yes, that will be fine,” said Garrick. - - - “Nice work in there, Lead,” said Thoko when they’d returned to the car. “I had no idea you could be so slick.” “Thank you, Thoko,” Garrick replied, starting up the car. He eased out of their impromptu parking spot on the shoulder of the road, pulled an awkward U-turn, and set off back the way they had came. “So,” he said when they were under way. “Thoughts?” “We got their attention, that’s for sure.” Thoko was grinning widely. “I thought that poor guy was going to pass out. My guess is that he’s going to be kicking our request upstairs to somebody who has a bit more pull than a backwater post like this.” “Exactly what we want, in other words,” said Garrick. “Excellent. I think the Captain’s going to be pleased with our work here today.” 1st Lieutenant Garrick “Canis” Wolf Commanding Officer, Eden’s Guard Security & Logistics Corporation Lance Leader, Wolf Lance SHD-5D Shadow Hawk 5/15/3097 08:05 Bargstedt Country Highway Construction Site Outside of Bargstedt Ohrensen System, Free World’s League The smell of fresh asphalt was one that Penelope never particularly enjoyed, despite her chosen line of work. The smell of solvents and chemicals bothered her, she never really understood why, even after ten years of leading the Eden’s Guard as being much of a construction consultant group as they were a mercenary organization. It made them odd, but local and stellar governments constantly underestimated the value of a good road system. By the time they’d been here a day, and work had already begun. A lot of pre-work had already been made by unit staff, which had arranged for local equipment rentals and work crews. By the time the main body of the unit had arrived, Eden’s Guard agents had already been on Ohrensen a month to get everything ready. A week in, and a highway headed toward the mountains was being planned. Detonations were underway, paving to the main road system around the city had begun. One of the issues with Ohrensen was the lack of build-up around the cities. Suburbs were an artificial nightmare created by crappy city planners, but cities and rural communities relied on one another for transportation, wealth generation, and attracting settlers from one another; people would go to live in the city because of new opportunity, and people would live in the country because of lower prices and a different kind of lifestyle. When a city-based economy had no rural community to rely upon, its prices would skyrocket, because they relied too heavily on aerial transportation to go from city to city, if at all. Ohrensen had this problem; Bargstedt, its largest city, was connected to the other major cities by air and suborbital transportation, but no substantial communities that it was locally connected to. Without them, the cities were reliant on polluting factory farms and worse, they had to completely support all their own infrastructure, which made them vulnerable to attack and fragile to failures. A single outage could leave a hundred million people without power in the winter for days. If the city had neighboring communities, then gaps and additional assistance could be brought in, and people they couldn’t take care of may be sent to countryside towns. The countryside was ill-served, as well, for obvious reasons. With no connections to the cities, outlying areas were entirely isolated, and often had little in the way of stable and cheap grid power, effective healthcare, or clean water. Periodic fire stations, clinics, and water treatment plants would be enough for new communities to not only pop up around the city, but to incentivize expansion. It would also attract trouble, and that was what Captain Trumbull was counting on. The work crews consisted mostly of locals looking for work. There were plenty to be had-after all, construction as a great way to cover up money laundering. They’d already had some contact with the triads, bullies trying to extract racketeering from the mercenaries. A few had been rejected for being too steep or too violent, and the Triads were sent packing, but most had been paid off. “Miss Trumbull?” one of the local work crew foremen knocked on the truck she was standing next to. She grinned at the politeness of the gesture, however unnecessary. “It’s ‘Captain’. What can I help you with, Mister…?” “Kyle, ma’am. Aloysius Kyle.” “What can I help you with?” “My workers have been told repeatedly to stop working, or they or their loved ones would be hurt. We’ve offered bribes to the men, but they didn’t take them. I’ve been ignoring them so far, told your soldiers what’s going on. Last night, one of my boys turned up in your MASH unit, kicked all to hell. When he came to, he said it was the fellas who’d been telling us not to work. I thought you outta know personally, before it gets out of hand,” Foreman Kyle said. Penelope nodded. “Thank you, Mr. Kyle. Do you know where we might find these men?” “Yes, ma’am, they work out of a bar on the edge of the city. Eddie Chun’s. What should we do for now?” “Keep working. If anything happens again, we’ll arrange for security. We’ll take care of these fellows, they won’t bother you or your crew again. Let the Blue Helms know if anything else like this happens, okay?” “Yes, Captain. I appreciate you looking out for us.” “It is my job, Mr. Kyle. You’ve all been doing good work. Keep it up.” With Mr. Kyle dismissed, Penelope called up Leftenant Park. “Leftenant? Would you contact Marshal Stowes for me?” Captain Penelope “Dime” Trumbull Commanding Officer, Eden’s Guard Security & Logistics Corporation Lance Leader, Apple Lance KIM-3C Komodo 5/19/3097 01:55 Bargstedt Country Highway Construction Site Outside of Bargstedt Ohrensen System, Free World’s League It was the bass that Penelope loved about Jazz. The Saxophone was the traditional ‘lead’ in an ensemble, but for her, the bass was more than just music. There was a reverberation to it, singing in her body like a second heart big enough to encompass from her naval to the roof of her mouth. She always listened past the squeaking horn, the melody of the keyboard, and dwelled on the thump and quake of the bass. The fact that she was married to the bassist certainly had no effect on her preferences. It had been a long day, and the crews had put in long hours to reach the first town ahead of schedule. They’d turned what had been a dirt road with a single electrical wire into a paved highway within a matter of days, and the new wires running from the city would bring light to the town. To reward the workers, they’d set up a little jazz concert performed by the musicians in the Company, and handed out drinks. It had been livelier earlier in the evening, but now people were headed back to their cots, or had just passed out in their chairs, while the band played whatever they felt like. Penelope, herself, was halfway to nodding off. She hadn’t seen any of her children in four days, having left them in the hands of their nanny. She fought off a pang of guilt about it; they weren’t but a few clicks away. They could drive back in a few minutes, but they had another day ahead of them. A tap on the shoulder broke her out of her pensive mood. Maggie was at her shoulder, “Ma’am, Marshal Stowes is here to see you, as you’d requested.” “Oh, thank you, Leftenant,” she nodded, and glanced to Randall, who glanced back at her. She knew not to smile at him; every time she smiled at him when he played, he lost the beat. She followed Lt. Park to the edge of the camp, where four trucks had pulled up, along with a dozen armed men. Bluehelms watched over them, their Gauss rifles slung presentably to remind the Marshals that they were considerably less armed than the Mercenaries were. “Marshal Stowes?” Penelope called out. A man with brown, stringy hair, a poor construction of an artificial nose, and a glower on his face stepped forward. “That would be me.” “I’m Captain Trumbull of the Eden’s Guard. It’s good to meet you,” she offered a handshake. He crossed his arms in refusal, and she put her hand into her pockets, “I’ve come to make you an offer.” “What kind of offer does a Mercenary have for me and my men?” “Pretty straightforward, I’m looking to subcontract security. In exchange for you protecting our local workers, we’ll pay you and your men in cash, guns, and training.” “Lady, just because you’re a mercenary doesn’t mean the rest of us are. We’ve got people to take care of and law to bring down. We don’t have time for this. Only reason I came out here is because you brought enough ‘Mechs to take on the Militia, and I wanted to learn what you were about.” “Let me put it to you this way, Marshal. This planet’s about to see some serious shit, and there’s only a handful of people capable of doing anything planetwide. There’s the Triads, who you already have a problem with. There’s the Director, who basically isn’t any different. Then there’s the League, who’s left your planet to flounder and flop around on its own without any support. Finally, there’s the ConMag, who hasn’t been here in a hundred years. Do you notice anyone missing from that list there, Marshal?” He threw up his hands, “You didn’t list yourselves.” “It’s you, Marshal. You drive around the countryside, doing what you can, but at the end of the day, nothing out here matters. Nobody gives a shit about the fact there’s no cops out there. You don’t have the men, the training, or the gear to have anyone care. Now what happens when, suddenly, you do have those things?” “What kind of fucking game are you playing here, lady?” “I’m here to make sure that this planet is worth fighting over. Ohrensen is sick, and nobody in power cares about that except where this place is on a map. I could take this planet in a couple of days if I wanted to. Part of a healthy government is an effective police department, which you and your Marshals could offer. I’m giving you a chance to finally have a seat at the table when it comes to your own planet, Marshal. All I need you to do is make sure some guys don’t get beaten up by Triad assholes. Are you interested?” “I’m not going to betray Ohrensen to its enemies.” “What enemies? The Triads? They live here, too. You just as soon burn the planet as get rid of them. The ConMag burned the planet when they left, and the League has let it rot. Think about this for a moment, Stowes: If I was Ohrensen’s enemy, why would I bother building a damn thing? I’d come in, take what I wanted, and be out of here before anyone could say ‘Shit what’s that in the sky?’” “Then why build roads, if you’re not working for the Director? What do mercenaries get out of running charity construction jobs?” “We get to be the people who built Ohrensen. Our next employer will look at what we’ve done here, and realize that we leave planets in better condition than what we arrived to. That when they hire us, they’re getting more for their C-Bill. Plus it builds trust with locals when they realize we’re coming.” “You get a reputation as good guys who build roads and train their cops.” “Exactly.” “Well what kind of equipment do you have for us, then?” Penelope gestured to Maggie, who arrived a moment later driving a pickup truck. Stowes approached the bed of the truck, cocking an eyebrow. “How big are you on irony?” Penelope asked, pulling off a cloth covering to reveal the bed to be full of guns. Stowes grinned. “I’m very big on irony.” Captain Penelope “Dime” Trumbull Commanding Officer, Eden’s Guard Security & Logistics Corporation Lance Leader, Apple Lance KIM-3C Komodo 5/20/3097 11:35 Bargstedt Country Highway Construction Site Outside of Bargstedt Ohrensen System, Free Worlds League Garrick eased his Shadow Hawk into a slow trod and walked up one side of the construction site’s operational perimeter. His Mech’s torso twisted slightly to the right, giving him a clear view of the landscape. Not there was much to see--the construction crew was the only visible activity for over a mile. “Ronin, report,” he said over the comm. “Ronin here,” replied Ken after a moment. “All quiet.” Garrick sighed, a strange mix of relief and frustration in his breast. Their presence here was practically a formality. Even with only him and Ken deployed, they were an effective deterrent. They were half a lance, but they were half a lance of trained and experienced Mechwarriors with well-kept, top-end equipment. It would be foolhardy of anybody short of the Militia itself to launch an open attack on the construction site. Of course, the moment they left, the site suddenly became vulnerable. Hence why he’d spent the last couple of weeks in the cockpit, keeping an eye out for nothing in particular, guarding against an enemy that wasn’t going to come. An extremely dull Catch-22. “Canis, this is Thoko.” Thoko’s voice on the comm cut into his thoughts. “I hope I haven’t caught you at a busy time?” “Ha. What is it, Thoko?” “Well, the thing is, we just got a message back here at base, addressed to you and me. It’s from, well… it seems to be a personal message from Xi Lin.” Garrick felt his ears prick up--figuratively, of course. Despite mental habits picked up from recurrent metaphors he’d been raised with as a child, he was not literally a wolf. “So the boss himself has something to say to us?” “Well, I say a message. It’s an invitation. To dinner. Tomorrow night.” Garrick’s stomach turned in an uncharacteristic somersault. “He wants us to have dinner with him?” “That would seem to be the case. ‘An opportunity to develop the relationship with our most generous new business partner,’ he calls it. Lead, this is--” “--basically the best thing that could happen to us, I know.” Garrick had been used to hearing Xi Lin’s name kicked around in his negotiations with the Triad, but this was the first time he’d gotten a direct communication. “We’re accepting, of course.” “I don’t think I have anything to wear to a fancy crime dinner, Lead.” “We’ll go into town this evening and put it on the company’s tab. Does the invite say who else is going to be at dinner?” “Not by name, exactly, but the implication seems to be that all the important people will be there.” Thoko let out a small hrm sound. “You thinking about their Clanner?” That was, in fact, precisely what was on Garrick’s mind. On the one hand, Garrick’s upbringing meant that he’d be on surer ground interacting with another member of the Clans than with whatever passed for polite society in these parts. By the same token, though, he would have to be especially careful with his facade--small slips that went over most people’s heads would likely betray him to the Xi’s officer. One way or another, this was going to be an interesting dinner. 1st Lieutenant Garrick “Canis” Wolf Commanding Officer, Eden’s Guard Security & Logistics Corporation Lance Leader, Wolf Lance SHD-5D Shadow Hawk 5/21/3097 19:30 Xi Manor Ohrensen System, Free Worlds League The car ground up the driveway between opulently manicured topiaries, coming to a halt in front of a broad stairway leading up to the double-doored front entrance of an absurdly ostentatious manor. Garrick let himself out of the car’s back door, then turned and offered his arm. Thoko’s hand emerged and took it, quickly followed by the woman herself, who was grinning in equal parts amusement and unfiltered delight. At least she seemed to be enjoying herself. For his part, Garrick felt distinctly out of place in surroundings as fancy as these, even though he and Thoko had both dressed to match. Garrick had purchased a double-breasted, high-collared suit that had reminded him of his Clan dress uniform and therefore made him feel marginally less ridiculous than any of the other options available. As for Thoko, Garrick had half expected her to protest at the idea of wearing a dress, but the evening gown she was in now had made her literally squeal when she first saw it in the store. The Xi manor, like most Xi territory, was away from the city centers that were dominated by the other triads. Unlike the worn-down office buildings that Garrick had seen thus far, however, the manor was in pristine condition and set up like a small fortress. He imagined the Xi didn’t have much to worry about from the Militia or roving bandits. Garrick and Thoko were ushered in the front door, through an entryway carefully designed to be as overwhelming and impressive as possible, and up a grand staircase to the dining room, which had a long table set with all manner of mouth-watering food, as well as intermittent candles adding to the ambiance created by the soft electric lighting, turned down low for the occasion. “My friends!” Xi Lin exclaimed, crossing the room as they entered. “You honor us with your presence tonight.” “The honor is ours, Xi Lin,” replied Garrick, bowing slightly to the older man. “Generous and polite--a good combination!” Lin laughed. He turned back to a small cluster of people at the other end of the room and called, “Cathan! Come and meet our guests.” A man detached himself from the group and loped over with a casual stride. Garrick marked him; he appeared to be somewhere in his thirties, clean-shaven and hair buzzed. There was something in the way he carried himself, too, a sort of careless arrogance, as if he couldn’t conceive of anybody in the room posing a threat to him in any way. He felt Thoko give his arm a light, reassuring squeeze. Lin turned back to the two of them as Cathan approached. “This is Cathan, my right-hand man and leader of our military arm. Cathan, these are the clients that have been so generously providing us with business these last few weeks.” “At long last,” said Cathan. “Greetings to you, OvKhan.” A smirk sprouted on his face. “That’s a term of respect amongst us Clanners.” Garrick held back a frown. First of all, that was not the way he’d been taught to use that particular honorific. Second of all, nobody in the Clans that he had known ever referred to themselves as ‘Clanners.’ “Greetings to you as well, sir,” he said in lieu of voicing his thoughts. “That’s a term of respect amongst us mercenaries.” Cathan responded with a cackling laugh that was so loud and unexpected that it made Garrick flinch slightly. “Good, that’s good,” he chuckled. “I appreciate a warrior who is tempered with a sense of humor.” “I find it’s quite a valuable thing to have,” replied Garrick. “Might I ask what Clan you’re from?” “Jade Falcon,” replied Cathan, flashing his teeth. He didn’t act very much like a Jade Falcon, although Garrick supposed that since his experience of that Clan was mostly limited to them screaming angry batchalls in the middle of a warzone, he wasn’t exactly an expert on the matter. Perhaps Cathan had been ejected from his Clan for being so blasted annoying. “Might we sit and tuck in, Xi Lin?” Thoko asked from beside Garrick. “I’m starving, and that food looks exquisite.” “An excellent idea indeed,” said Lin. “Come, you two will be sitting with me at the head of the table. Cathan, your usual spot.” There was a general shuffling and scraping of chairs as the assembled guests seated themselves around the table. Lin sat at the head of the table, Thoko to his right and Garrick beyond her. Cathan sat across from them, grinning insufferably. Garrick found his teeth grinding slightly. Dishes were passed around, plates were loaded, and everybody began to eat. Garrick glanced around the table for a moment; the company seemed to favor a sort of genteel, delicate way of working at their food with the provided utensils, so he picked his up and did his best to imitate them. “Mmmm,” sighed Thoko, slowly chewing a mouthful of meat. “Magnificent.” “Thank you, my dear,” smiled Lin. “I take great care in hiring my chefs. I find that good food is a lifeline that will pull you through the hardest of times.” Garrick wondered how “hard” times could be for somebody who lived in a mansion like this, but Thoko was already speaking. “I do hope you pay them well.” “Naturally,” replied Lin. “You keep talent by paying it what it’s worth. And they’re worth every penny of it, even when the budget is tight.” Thoko’s eyebrows raised fractionally, and Garrick suddenly realized that she’d been steering the conversation intentionally. “Surely you must not want for money,” he said, jumping in. “Your operation seems healthy, from what we’ve seen.” “We do well enough,” sighed Lin. “But… well, we’ve been having difficulties maintaining a foothold in the most robust markets.” “It’s those Shoga freebirths,” growled Cathan from across the table. Garrick winced slightly; that particular slur was unspeakably impolite, given present company. “They’re muscling everybody out of the big games, taking it all for themselves,” Cathan continued, oblivious. Garrick drew in a breath, pulled his thoughts into order. “Well, I imagine that being in charge of the local government must come with quite a few perks.” “Feh,” Cathan sneered. “He kisses up to everybody, makes a few pretty speeches, and suddenly they all decide that he’s our savior. It’s disgusting.” “You certainly sound disgruntled with the situation,” Thoko observed mildly. “We bear it,” cut in Lin, giving Cathan a stern glare. “It is simply the way of things. We must bear what we cannot change.” “Well, anything can change,” said Thoko, in a tone that was just slightly too innocent. Lin looked at her, sharply. “Do you think so, Miss Pretorius?” Thoko shrugged. “Well, certainly. Change is the watchword of our century, isn’t it? It seemed like the Succession Wars were going to go on forever. Then along come the Clans,” she nodded at Cathan, “and boom, everything’s reshuffled, a new Star League forms and collapses within the space of a few decades… it seems like anything could happen.” “She’s right,” said Garrick, leaning forward to look significantly at Lin. “Given the current state of affairs, something as simple as planets changing hands seems so… insignificant.” Lin leaned back in his chair, regarding his guests with a guarded expression. “You aren’t wrong,” he said after a breathless moment. “But we shall have to see what the future holds for us… what opportunities arise.” “I’d certainly welcome the opportunity to punch Leow right in his stupid face,” grumbled Cathan through a mouthful of food. Garrick glanced sideways at Thoko, who tilted her head sideways as if to say, That’s all we’re going to get from them for now. For now, it was enough. Garrick spent the rest of the dinner half-listening to conversation while mentally beginning to compose his report to the Captain. 1st Lieutenant Garrick “Canis” Wolf Commanding Officer, Eden’s Guard Security & Logistics Corporation Lance Leader, Wolf Lance SHD-5D Shadow Hawk 5/22/3097 19:15 Dyrnwyn Outside of Bargstedt Ohrensen System, Free World’s League The secret lives of babies are filled with all the wonder and adventure of escaping from one’s playpen and wandering about their parents’ room for ten minutes before finding a pillow and passing out. Such was the story when Penelope, while watching the children, kept quiet and still and observed the twins doing exactly this. She was impressed, to say the least of their use of teamwork tipping over the playpen by leaning against it together; it always seemed like they were at odds with one another for attention, space, and food. Once they’d explored all there was to be found of any interest or remote danger, they found the softest thing they could and went back to their nap. Penelope collected the twins off the floor and laid on the bed with them, joining them in their slumber. It was broken after some indeterminate time, but clearly not enough for any of them, as they awoke to the sound of Penelope’s chiming communicator with the same irritated grunt. Still holding Rhona, she answered the com. “Yes, what is it?” Penelope rubbed her eye, “You have until the baby starts crying.” “Those hooligans came back to attack Mr. Kyle’s crew, just like you said,” Marshal Stowes said without even so much as an introduction. Upon realizing Rhona was being carried and he was being ignored, Khalid started to fuss. “Ten seconds, Marshal.” “We’ve got them locked up, but their buddies are going to be angry. There could be an escalation if we hold them. Their bosses might take it as a slight, too, if we don’t reach out to them, but I get the feeling you-“ Khalid broke into a cry. “Excuse me, Marshal,” Penelope said, and she turned to switch babies, and returned, holding Khalid, “Okay, you have another ten seconds.” Marshal Stowes’s eyebrows raised, and instead of continuing, he started to laugh at the sight of the alternated baby, before breaking and saying, “Do you need a moment, Captain?” “Thank you, Marshal,” Penelope said, setting Khalid down on the bed next to Rhona and returning to the com, “Sorry about that. You know how recruits can be.” “No doubt. These punks work for the Hoover family, and they’ve got some hardware. If they’re pissed off they could do some actual damage. I need to know what to expect to bring to bear for this, and what you’re planning to do to handle them.” “I’m going to talk to their boss directly. Make it clear that we’re dealing at his level, not their goons’ level. If any more attacks occur, arrest and hold. If it keeps happening before I’ve come to an agreement with the Hoovers, we’ll talk about escalation. Do you think you and your men need anything else?” “We could use more trucks.” “I think I have an idea of what we can do about that. Talk to our Chief Technician, Randall Poke. He may be able to help. Anything else?” “Good luck, Captain.” “You, too, Marshal.” Captain Penelope “Dime” Trumbull Commanding Officer, Eden’s Guard Security & Logistics Corporation Lance Leader, Apple Lance KIM-3CKomodo 5/26/3097 10:45 Eddie Chun’s Bar Bargstedt Ohrensen System, Free World’s League The radio in the bar was playing the latest hit pop song, a happy, generic tune of a young man celebrating the fact that a girl just said she would go on a date with the singer. Paired against the décor and customers of Eddie Chun’s Bar, a smoky Triad bar with gangsters trying to impress each other with violence, boasts, and billiards, and attract someone to sleep with that night, the song was out of place to say the least. Eddie Chun and his staff were constantly busy receiving and distributing bottles and pitchers of beer and orders of food. Leftenant Dierdre Hurley was not a very large man, barely scratching the underside 165 cm tall. Compared to Marshal Stowes, who broke 185 cm, he looked like a child at first glance, though the wear and tear on his face and analytical sweep as he scanned the bar with the Marshal at his side would tell anyone paying attention that he was much older than his size or good looks would suggest. Their arrival did not go unnoticed by the barflies. The pair had at least a dozen pairs of eyes on them as they strolled in, and approached the nearest gangster. “We’re looking for Lucius Calkins,” Marshal Stowes said. The gangster shrugged and said, “Who’s asking?” “Eden’s Guard Security,” said Hurley, “We’ve got some questions for him.” “I don’t think he’s interested in answering them.” “He will be if he wants to see some of his buddies again,” Marshal Stowes said, “People from this bar keep going out of town and hurting workers.” “We’ve tried being polite,” Lt. Hurley said, “Now we’re going to be a bit firm. Where’s Calkins?” “I’m Calkins,” said a man at the billiards table. He landed a shot, sinking a ball before standing to look at them, “And you two are dumb enough to walk in here, giving me someone to exchange for my friends. So thanks for that.” “Not quite,” Stowes said, “You’ve been told not to interfere with Eden’s Guard operations before. Now a man is dead. This goes beyond mere assault and racketeering Mr. Calkins.” “What are you, some sort of cop?” “As a matter of fact, I am.” Some of the gangsters tensed up, reaching for weapons, but Calkins laughed, “Okay. Right. Here’s the thing, ‘Officer’. You don’t make the rules. I don’t even make the rules. The guy I report to? He does. So you and your friend here are going to go in the back, we’re going to cuff you up, and your bosses are going to let my friends go. Cause any shit, and we return you in pieces, understand?” “Let me put this in another way, Mr. Calkins: Dead or alive, you’re coming with me.” Calkins chalked the end of his stick, “That sounds like causing shit.” Lt. Hurley grinned, holding up a device with a button and a little red light, and said, “It should.” The front of the bar exploded as four suits of Battle Armor ripped through the front of the establishment, slamming through the wooden walls with no effort, and brandishing machine guns that were trained on all the Triads, who scrambled as far as they could from the sudden wreckage. Hurley slid the device back into his pocket, and Stowes stepped toward Calkins with a pair of handcuffs. “Turn around.” “You son of a bitch. You’re dead, you know that?” “In a cosmic sense, our lives are short, unnoticeable, and meaningless, so, yeah, I guess, in a way, I am, aren’t I? As are you, and everyone else. Now shut up and turn around.” Stowes forced Calkins over the billiards table and cuffed him, and dragged him past the Battel Armor squad. “Hey!” Eddie Chun called out, “What about my bar?” “You can bill us,” Hurley said, dropping a business card on the table and followed the Marshal out. Leftenant Deirdre ‘Halfstack’ Hurley Head of Security Operations, Eden’s Guard Security & Logistics Corporation Platoon Lead, Blue Helmets Infantry Squad 5/27/3097 14:55 Hoover Tower Bargstedt Ohrensen System, Free World’s League There is a façade on Ohrensen maintained by the higher leadership of the Triads of legitimacy. Disguised as civil servants and businessmen, they reduce their activities to board meetings and reports. The more powerful the Triad, the more removed the leadership was from the activities of their street-level activities. In the Hoover Holdings, Limited company building, Penelope watched the cubicle workers and data analysts working away as if they were reading sales reports of fruit sales, rather than racketeering of people’s lives and livelihoods or gun sales. The truth of their own world was so far removed from them in this building, they may as well as have been on another planet entirely. They didn’t even have the taste to splurge their wealth on something well-crafted or expensive. The office building had displays of finery, but they were all clearly fake, with poor or cheap molding, faux marble or gilded decorations placed in odd places. Even the walkways were lined with a reflective metal that was supposed to remind people of silver, when it was clearly aluminum; truly an astounding display of wealth for an aristocrat of 19th century France. It was considerably less impressive in the 31st century. Even the receptionist and security were dressed in a strange amalgamation of traditional Germanic dress and modern formal wear, with odd, cheaply-stitched frills and laces on random parts of the outfit. Many of them had gold jewelry, some of which was too big. Penelope would laugh at them if she didn’t have to speak directly with their leader. The way the managers-probably Triad advisors or other hangers-on-ogled her, she decided she wished she’d forced him to come to her, rather than meeting in his own citadel. There was a plan to bring the Hoovers in line, of course, even in their tower. This didn’t change the fact that she could hear them muttering jokes about “How much a Mercenary costs.” Lars Hoover was the son of the late Amelia Hoover, who had masterminded the family’s exodus to Ohrensen. While his mother had brought them here, it was during Lars’ leadership their sales kept them afloat. He was a portly man, scratching the underside of middle-aged. “Mister Hoover,” she offered a handshake, “I’m Captain Penelope Trumbull of Eden’s Guard Security.” Instead of shaking her hand, he pushed a shot of vodka into her grip. She studied the glass suddenly in her hand, and glanced to Hoover himself, who threw back his own shot. Penelope slurped down half the shot and set it on the table; she didn’t taste anything off about it, except that it wasn’t great vodka, so she didn’t suspect she’d just been poisoned. “Captain, I have to say, ah, I’m very disappointed with what I’ve heard so far about your people. Very disappointed,” Lars said. “Well, I can’t say I’ve been particularly impressed by yours, either, Mr. Hoover, that’s what-“ “Now you listen here, missy. My people are the best. I’ve got all the best people, hear me? I trust all of them, all of them. Your people have been causing lots of trouble for my boys, and I don’t like that, so what do you have to say for yourself?” Penelope took a breath. He was not exactly what she’d expected. “We need to protect our people, Mr. Hoover, from being attacked and harassed. We tried to negotiate with one Mr. Lucius Calkins, but he only escalated the situation by killing one of our contractors.” “Well what did he do to make him mad?” “A man is dead, Mr. Hoover. Aloysius Kyle was a foreman. He paved roads for us. He didn’t do anything to antagonize Calkins.” “Now that’s not what I heard. Mr. Calkins has been a good worker, an honest man, he wouldn’t do something like that. This Owl-Licious Kyle is some kind of labor bully, and got himself into trouble. My guy was just doing his thing, sounds to me like your friend just isn’t all that tough.” Penelope was a bit dumbstruck by this; she expected bluster and pride, but Hoover wasn’t hearing any contradiction; but she was going to have to rethink her approach with this man. “Mr. Hoover, I’m not here to iron out a verdict between the two of us, I’m here to make it clear to you that our operations are in your interest. We’re perfectly willing to pay proper dues.” “Sounds to me like you’re trying to set up shop, because you’ve got big guns, but it doesn’t impress me. I’ve got guns, too, you know. Lots of guns.” “I’m sure you do, Mr. Hoover, but we’re here as a construction contractor and an infrastructure planner. We do this sort of thing all the time.” “Well, you’re not doing a very good job, if you ask me, spending your time out in the wilderness digging ditches for hillbillies. Waste of time, everything’s in the city.” “Exactly. Everything is in the city. There’s nothing more to build in the city, everyone on this planet lives like sardines. A city built like that will fall apart if it doesn’t either fix itself constantly, or spread out and connect with the countryside. When was the last time you saw profit growth? When was the last time your business changed from one year to the next? Stagnation leads to decay, you have to keep building and rebuilding just to keep up. Your best investment is in the places around the city, and connect the cities together. We’re here to help with that. “What are you trying to sell me? I’m no sucker, I’m the one that makes the deals here.” “Mr. Hoover-“ “You come in here, talking about how my guys, who are the best in the planet, are criminals and then trying to sell me something-“ “I’m not selling ye wockers, I’m telling you that if your mates are up to high doh, ye’ll be left in more shite than just a pub’s front door,” Penelope hissed at him. Hoover opened his mouth to talk but Penelope kept going. “But if ye shut yer pus, and let us do our jobs, ye’an’all’ll get minted off our work. We’re keeping Calkins, ye’r keeping yer mates out our business, and ye’ll thank us when we’re finished. If any more of my Keelies so much get a scraped knee an’ your Haddies are aboot, I’ll personally stomp your gaudy tower intae dust an’ leave you skint and skuddy. And if ye were cannie, ye’d ask fer our maps of our roads, because those are investment opportunities you numpty roaster. ” Hoover gawked at her, and Penelope, whose face had grown red after letting out a stream of Northwind’s finest linguistic lessons, took yet another calming breath. “This is unacceptable, I won’t be talked to like this in my own tower! Do you know who you’re talking to? I’m a big deal, you know! You’re making some real dangerous people real mad!” “I am a fucking weapon. I came here to talk ye out of being daft, but if ye won’t listen, I’ll take it up with the Director. Next time our work camps so much as see your lads near, we’ll leave ‘em raw and bloody. No more bribes. Arrests only if we can get them. And I’m sure the Xi will be happy to take our change to keep you ben. Bolt, and ye might make money. “ She started to leave, but paused. “And your vodka tastes like frog piss!” Captain Penelope “Dime” Trumbull Commanding Officer, Eden’s Guard Security & Logistics Corporation Lance Leader, Apple Lance KIM-3C Komodo 5/27/3097 16:35 Dyrnwyn Mechanical Bay Outside Bargstedt Ohrensen System, Free World’s League Caitir and Randall had picked up an interesting project. When Marshal Stowes requested more vehicles, they didn’t have the money to purchase new ones for the Marshals’ behalf, certainly nothing top-of-the-line. But the Marshals didn’t need anything top of the line, or anything fancy; they needed reliable vehicles to get from point A to point B. The garage of a highly skilled Mercenary tech was certainly capable of handling basically any job so, in the absence of real work like stripping armor and fixing complex laser weaponry in the aftermath of a battle, they’d set themselves to working on restoring civilian ICE trucks. Decent enough mileage, capable of long-range travel if there were enough petrol stops along the way, and they could haul men and supplies wherever they were going. Combustion engines were an ancient enough technology that their construction was taught in many High Schools. They didn’t even need to buy spare parts, since they could fabricate what they needed in-shop, though the scale of building or rebuilding dozens of trucks meant that it was often faster to buy existing materials; they were a workshop, not a factory. Still, it was good practice for the Astechs to get used to the machinery and construct things like pipes, axles, and even bolts from hunks of metal. They’d gotten husks and lemons cheaply from junkyards and used auto lots, and had set the entire Technical crew onto the project, in between the routine maintenance and upkeep of the road crews’ machines. Caitir had worked on enough of them at this point that Randall had set her loose on a total restoration on her own. The Techs weren’t expect to build the vehicles on their own; it was faster to work in groups of three or so. The point was to test Caitir and see if she was able to work on her own and deal with all the parts of the project, from the shaping and measurements to the wiring and gears. When her father had offered the challenge to her, she thought she’d be able to handle it, but instead, they’d thrown her a curveball. Almost all the vehicles had come from the same factories and had similar designs, to the point that their parts were interchangeable. If the Company wanted, they could essentially manufacture their own civilian trucks of that design. This was not one of those trucks. They had found an import model and set her to restoring it, and now Caitir had to research the manuals, find specifications, and then find out what needed to be replaced, fixed, overhauled, and fabricated. All the skills she’d practiced in the last five days, she was putting to use, and she wasn’t even really sure where she was in the process. “Mind if I suggest something?” Randall said. “Hmm?” “Just start testing things. Find out what isn’t working, and fix one thing at a time. You’re trying to do everything. You only need to do one things.” “Well…Where do I start, then?” “What’s the most important part of the car?” “Uh…Accelerator? Making it go?” “You can get a pack of dogs to make a car go with some rope and a slab of meat on a stick.” “Uh…” “What are the things that you, the driver, would be interacting with? You already mentioned the accelerator.” “Well…” Caitir sat in the driver’s seat and looked at everything in front of her that a driver would interact with. She put her hands on the steering wheel. “There’s turning. I guess suspension, too,” she said, miming through the motions of driving the car, “There’s the accelerator, but that can be suitably replaced with canine locomotion, like you said. There’s the ignition, but, you know, same deal. Speedometer…the…Brakes?” “Yes, but, even more fundamental than that.” “The wheels. The wheels are the most important part of the car.” “Exactly. We can roll a truck down the hill if we need to. But it’s not going anywhere-“ “If it doesn’t have wheels.” “Now look around at what the other groups are doing. It’s something you’ve done right, just unfocused.” “I, uh…I’ve been labeling everything. Finding what parts I have to work with.” “Exactly. But you have to get the truck on wheels first.” “Axle, steering, brakes, all the stuff that makes the truck roll. Or not roll.” “Yep. Get your ‘Woah’ before your ‘Go.’ If you see something else broken along the way, write it down, but stay focused on what you’re doing.” “Okay. Yeah. That’s a good start. Thanks, Dad.” Caitir got out of the truck and started to get it lifted so she could inspect the wheels, axles, and drive shafts, and mark everything by what it was and what the part number was based on the catalog she’d found. When she got up, she saw the World Rover drive up to the dropship. Caitir pointed. “Mum’s here.” “So she is. Penelope stepped out of the car and stomped towards the personnel entrance to the dropship, the glower on her face suggesting a foul mood to everyone. To Randall, he knew his wife well enough to know the specific mood: She had screwed up, and how. “Call over the Chief if you have any questions, honey,” Randall said, following Penelope into the dropship. Although he lost line of sight with her, he knew exactly where she was headed, and caught her pulling a tub of ice cream and finding a seat with a spoon. Randall sat in front of her. “Want to talk about it?” “Randall, ye’re a tidy man of no quarrel with abo’dy, but this Hoover dolton, he’d make even ye cowk. Th’whole talk was pooched the moment I stept foot in there,” she sighed, and ripped the lid off the ice cream and stabbed it with her spoon. Randall rested his hand on hers. “Not everyday someone gets under your skin deep enough you turn to Cameron’s English all the way home. Tell me what happened, I’ll get a couple more spoons for when Caitir gets here.” “Ye should’ve-“ she started but Randall pointed to the ice cream. “Eat. Then English, you talk too fast when you chatter like Lt. Gow and you use words I don’t understand. Besides, you don’t think well when you’re cussing your head off.” Penelope muttered a few more obscenities, this time about her husband, but stuffed her cheeks full of ice cream to center herself. “So I take it things didn’t go well with Mr. Hoover?” “Th’fandan wouldn’t hear a word I said,” Penelope told him, “Accused me of trying to sell him something and wouldn’t accept that his bawbag of a toady did anything wrong. He got me to flap, damn goon.” “So he won’t be cooperating then.” “No, I’d say not.” Randall went for a spoon in the tub, but she knocked his away to take another. “Made me feel like a damn teenager getting flustered in the classroom. I told him to get in line or I’d grind his tower to dust, and that I was taking it up with the Director. So, that’ll be fun to explain to Loew. Could just make things easier on ourselves and off them both.” “Good thought, but we don’t operate that way.” Penelope sighed and, with a mouthful of ice cream, muttered, “I know.” Caitir came in, poking her head around the corner while wiping oil off her hands with a rag, and approached the table. “What’s going on?” “Things didn’t go well at the meet,” Penelope said. Caitir sat next to her; Randall handed Caitir a spoon. “So I gather,” Caitir said, wedging out a generous heaping larger than the spoon itself before stuffing it in her mouth at once, “How munny times dyid you say ‘bawbag’?” “A few.” “Then he was a bawbag.” “Watch your mouth.” “Well what’s your first move?” Randall asked. Penelope dug into the tub again. “Eat my fill of ice cream, even if I have to fight off this vulture,” Penelope brandished her spoon at her daughter in warning to stand aside and defer to her dominance. “Okay. Then what?” “Don’t nag me,” Penelope warned. “Sorry. Just trying to keep you on track.” “I’m going to talk to the director. If he’s a bawbag, well,” Penelope gestured around herself to the dropship, “That’s why we brought this thing.” Captain Penelope “Dime” Trumbull Commanding Officer, Eden’s Guard Security & Logistics Corporation Lance Leader, Apple Lance KIM-3C Komodo 5/29/3097 11:15 Director’s Estate Bargstedt Ohrensen System, Free World’s League In contrast to Hoover Tower, the Shoga family compound managed to be both traditional and respectably show off the wealth of the owners without being gaudy or flashy. There were no outlandish displays of gold-rimmed walls or faux lace on the clothes of everyone working there. Instead, the finery was shown in the fine craftsmanship of the buildings themselves and the care taken to maintain the grounds and gardens. It would have been easy to have made the architecture of the compound a neurotic mess and mix of different influences, but instead, each section of the Director’s compound was dedicated to a different style that honored his family’s mixed ancestry, with gardens dividing them that corresponded to one or another. As Penelope wandered the gardens, she decided she was partial to the domes and arches of the Nigerian section of the compound, made of earthly materials, with the most hand-built quality, something that the Western inspired section lacked, despite the fine lacquer wood and smoothed, carved stone bringing forth memories of her Northwind childhood home. “Captain Trumbull?” a young man approached. He was wearing a Militia uniform and an excited grin on his face. Penelope turned and stood at a rest as he approached, and nodded to him. “Lieutenant Shoga Ken?” she asked, recognizing him from his file. He nodded, and saluted, which she returned. “It’s good to meet you, Captain. I’ve been hoping for the opportunity since you and your unit arrived,” he said, “I’m sure you’ve read all about me and my family, of course, but I’ve been studying to become a Mechwarrior, myself. It’s an honor to meet a Star League veteran like yourself.” “A pleasure to meet you, too, Lieutenant.” “Is it true you were blooded against the Clans?” “Yes, I’ve fought several of the Clans over the years, both in the Star League and as a mercenary.” “We’re pretty peaceful here on Ohrensen. I considered joining the military, but my father and my planet need me here.” “Your father expects you to succeed him someday?” “He’s been grooming me since I was a boy for it. I think he sees my place in the Militia as an indulgence rather than anything serious. But it’s important, you know?” “Planetary Militias are an important part of a system, even if it’s frustrating to on the inside of one.” “What do you mean?” “Well, say the Diamond Sharks moved into this region, and a military needed to move troops to the region. What planet do you think they’re going to move to: A planet with a small, under-equipped militia, or a well-developed world with proper military bases and repair facilities?” “The, uh, second one.” “Exactly. A militia today becomes a military base tomorrow. Local intelligence and personnel are always the biggest asset to any operation, no matter how good your Agencies or agents are. Without local police and military, a nation’s military would have to maintain everything themselves.” “Which is super expensive.” “Exactly. Lieutenant, who maintains the starports and customs? Runs security for essential Infrastructure? Does background checks for personnel in high-security functions?” “Uh…Whichever family runs those things. The Chen family runs the Spaceport, we own the power plants and a lot of the factories.” “Your family’s soldiers, do, that is. I used to train officers on Terra, and part of what I taught was systematic security, not just how to be a Mechwarrior, and Ohrensen isn’t organized like most worlds.” “Are you saying we have security vulnerabilities?” “I’m saying there’s a lot more the Militia could be doing than just sitting around doing Mech drills and routine patrols.” The Lieutenant crossed his arms, “There are rumors that you and your people aren’t just here to build roads and arm mountain vigilante gangs, Captain. Why are you here on our planet?” “I’m here because Ohrensen because it needs our help, and getting infrastructure aid to Ohrensen has proved difficult in the past. They needed a third party to help get your planet where it needs to be, and we’re the best at getting planets on their feet.” “So the League paid for your contract?” “A lot of people paid for our contract. It was a joint effort of various agencies, charities, and companies that want to be able to safely invest in your world. We don’t have one backer, but rather a bunch of people who want to see change.” “Does that happen often? Mercenaries getting paid by special interest groups?” “Happens more often than you might think, just usually not in this part of the Inner Sphere. But I don’t think you wanted to meet me to talk about roads and militia policy.” Ken grinned, “No. I didn’t.” “Well, what do you want to hear? I’ve been all over.” “What kind of ‘Mech do you pilot?” “A Komodo. You familiar with them?” He shook his head. “It’s a Drac Battlemech, with a ton of lasers and an ECM. Good if you know how to maintain your heat well enough, but I really use it as a command vessel, because it has a C3 Master. There’s lots of ‘Mechs with C3’s in them, but they’re all Slave units.” “For targeting data, right?” “Yep. The Komodo’s one of a handful with a C3 Master. Between that and all the lasers, it means I can take on anything weighing more than a half-ton without much trouble, and command the entire Company from my Battlemech.” “I’m not assigned to a ‘Mech as a first-line pilot. The Captain just has me as a backup for the Blackjack. It’s a pretty simple ‘Mech, a couple of Large Lasers and SRM’s.” “Sounds like a solid sniper. Can’t imagine a lot being able to take on that at decent ranges.” “That’s how it’s used. Most of our ‘Mechs are Bugs, light and fast without a lot of armor.” “Good for chasing down cars, and nothing has more firepower than a ‘Mech.” “Yeah. Sometimes there’s a big shootout, and someone’s got an armored vehicle with some big gun on it. None of the Families want to deal with it, so the Militia gets called in. It’s rare to have the whole Company out on a mission, hasn’t happened since I joined.” “Don’t be too antsy for action. Once you see war, peace looks a hell of a lot better.” “Doesn’t mean I don’t want to see the Galaxy and test myself.” “True. Nothing like the stars.” “Where were you before this?” “I took some maternity leave, actually. This is my first mission in over a year. I was on Terra getting some paperwork sorted out.” “Man, that’s cool, living on Terra? Lin’s talked about seeing the new Duchy, but Father says the area around Terra is too chaotic to visit.” “I wish Terra were easier for people to visit,” Penelope admitted, “But all the Powers act like they’re entitled to it, which makes it hard for us to trust outsiders. Even Comstar treats us like we’re in the way. Terrans are pretty sick of it.” “What do you think would help?” Penelope laughed and shook her head, “Don’t get me started. You’ll never hear the end of it.” Ken grinned and nodded, “I understand. Father should be ready to see you now, mind if I walk you to his office?” “Lead the way.” The Director’s office was in the Western style building, a six-story building with a Gothic style on the moldings and corners and steep roof, which had an inset to create a balcony which looked into the city. They entered the building and took an elevator to the top, and Ken led her to the balcony where the Director was waiting for them, accompanied by a man in a suit, who Penelope recognized as Chen Leung, the leader of the Chen triad. “Father,” Ken bowed to the Director, “This is Captain Penelope Trumbull. Captain, this is my father, Director Shoga Loew, and Chen Leung, the Chairman of the Chen Group.” Penelope bowed, “It’s an honor to meet you, Gentlemen. I hope we haven’t interrupted your meeting.” “We had just finished,” the Director said, “I hope you don’t mind if Mr. Chen joins us?” “I was looking forward to meeting Mr. Chen myself, so this is serendipitous,” Penelope said, “Hello, Mr. Chen.” “Greetings, Captain. You know, you’ve caused a bit of trouble since you’ve arrived.” “Trouble can be a good thing, if you know how what kind to get into.” Chen grinned, “You’ve got more experience with trouble, I think, Captain, than I do. We don’t often get dropships from Terra this way, and we’re getting loaded with requests from offworld construction materials. You’ve caused an uproar in our scheduling with all you’ve been building.” “A good problem to have.” “I, however, have not been particularly impressed with the trouble you’ve caused with the Hoovers, Captain,” the Director said, “I’ve never seen him this furious.” “It was reciprocal, I assure you, Director,” Penelope said, “Mr. Hoover is a trying individual.” “Trying!” Chen laughed. Loew cracked a grin, too. “I can’t say that he’s a particularly endearing man. But he’s been calling twice a day demanding to know what I’m going to do about you and your mercenaries, Captain. Why shouldn’t I contact your backers and ask that they end your contract so my phones stop ringing?” Penelope stood at rest and perked her chin up, “Because right now, I’m doing more for the planet’s economy in the last few months than the entire Hoover triad has in the last few years, Director.” “What do you mean?” “We did some digging into their operations. The Hoovers are pretty recent on the planet, right?” He nodded. “Their main business started out as importing weapons. They used those weapons to kill and intimidate others out of their business, and they’ve been buying things up ever since then. But have you ever stopped to ask yourself what they actually do?” The Director shrugged, “They run their businesses like everyone else, I suppose.” Penelope shook her head, “The Hoovers own things. I’ve been studying all the families, and each of them does something. Your own family operates the Power Plants, the airports, the seaports, the water purification plants. Important work. Mr. Chen, your organization owns the starport and operates offworld customs. You coordinate offworld trade. The Xi move products all over the world and operate unlisted markets. The Bouknights have influence in entertainment and Ms. Berkowitz deals in pharmaceuticals and community development. “But the Hoovers? They have lots of guns, and they own things. They don’t operate any functions, they don’t build new markets or expand. They import guns, and they don’t even really share all that much. I’ve done digging into their finances, and all their operations and investments are in what they’ve taken from other families. They’re importing lots of guns, but are any of the other groups buying weapons from them?” The Director scowled, “What are you saying?” “I’m saying that, even though you’ve been at peace with the Hoovers since their initial attack, they haven’t been acting as arms dealers, which is why you would think they’d be buying guns and field munitions. Mr. Chen, have you ever known the Hoovers to rent Dropships to export material?” Leung shook his head. “If the Hoovers aren’t selling guns, then they’re stockpiling them,” the Director said. “That would be my guess,” Penelope agreed. Leow cursed and leaned against the railing of the balcony, looking on into the city. He took some breaths. His gaze crept down to his own compound and gardens, and then back up to the horizon, toward where the Dyrnwyn had been set down and the Eden’s Guard were operating. “This is why your Company was sent here, isn’t it?” the Director asked, “Because someone knew about the Hoovers stockpiling weapons.” “I was hired to make sure that Ohrensen remains a productive world, Director. The full truth is, Director, is that the Inner Sphere doesn’t understand your planet very well. There’s a lot going on, and we’re here to be the pivot to determine what happens.” “A pivot?” the Director turned back to her, “What do you mean?” “The way things have been running on Ohrensen is untenable. Things have to change.” “You sound like my ex-wife.” “I can’t say I’ve had the pleasure of meeting her, Director. There are people with enough interest in Ohrensen to send me to make things change one way, and I’ve been building roads and training policemen. Think about this: If someone sent the Hoovers, what does it say about their intentions that they’ve been stockpiling weapons?” Leow slammed his hands on the balcony and cursed. “…Are we going to be under attack?” Mr. Chen asked. “I think the timetable has been moved up now that Mr. Hoover has been irritated,” Penelope said. “Who sent them?” Loew demanded. “I think you know who sent the Hoovers. Ohrensen is an important planet, strategically speaking, with what planets are nearby. Your organizations don’t exactly mesh well with your neighbors, and there’s a lot of influence from across the border.” “So the League sent the Hoovers?” Ken asked, “Why? We’re League citizens!” “You’re conquered Capellans, a world run by Capellan Triads. What better way to undermine the Triads than by embedding one of your own? Keep supplying them with weapons while they buy everything they can. Then, find some excuse to cause a civil war, and send an intervention force to bring the security that the previous administration can’t. It’s not an invasion, it’s a peacekeeping mission,” Penelope said. The Director’s jaw clenched while he steamed and started to pace about the balcony. “Father, this doesn’t have to happen. Let me talk to the Captain, and we’ll raid the Hoover’s armories,” Ken insisted, “We can prevent this from going down in less than a week. Especially if the Triads stand together.” “We’ve been cultivating and alliance with the Hoovers, and making enemies of the other Triads by doing so,” Chen said, “The Xi and Bouknights would just let us obliterate each other.” The Director let out a long breath. “We can’t trust Captain Daw,” Loew announced, “She was career League military. For all we know, she was in on it from the beginning.” “But...That means the entire Militia…” Ken started, “Those people are my friends! My colleagues!” “They’ve been keeping you close so they can control you, Ken!” Loew declared, “To control me when the time came! Your whole career has been a plot against me!” Ken’s eyes fell to the ground and he turned pink, “But…I’ve trained so hard…” “What do we do?” Chen demanded. “It’s not so bad,” Penelope insisted, “Keeping the planet secure is part of my contract, Director. I don’t have the infantry to conduct raids, but I have the material to fight any kind of major armed force, and I’ve been training a police force to keep the peace for exactly this kind of reason, Director. The Xi are selling us weapons, they can do the same for you. That just leaves Berkowitz and the Bouknights for you to get on our side against the Hoovers.” “And the Militia?” the Director asked. Penelope gesture to Ken. “Your son is a Lieutenant in the Militia, and my Warriors are all experienced veterans. Our equipment outweighs theirs. You have the advantage in that regard.” “I can get some of the pilots on our side without the Captain suspecting a thing,” Ken insisted, his composure coming back to his face, “You can…Uh…Say that the Eden’s Guard are training us. When the time comes, we’ll take the ‘Mechs out from under their noses.” “They don’t know you know right now,” Penelope assured him, “We can make preparations without them knowing, or at least without them being able to do anything about it.” “What if the League sends a full force to intervene? We’d never be able to fight off a Company if the League sends troops,” Mr. Chen asked, looking to her. Penelope looked to the Director. “That depends, Director. How patriotic are you?” “Who would send help?” Loew asked. “Who else could? There’s no Star League to plead to. If there was, you could ask them. You have the option of hiring more Mercenaries yourselves, we might not be enough. Aside from that, there’s really only one option.” Loew raised his chin, “The Capellans. Would they help?” “If you were willing to declare your allegiance once they arrive? I’m sure they’d be gracious to reintegrate Ohrensen once the dust settles.” Loew crossed his arms, “How would I ask them for help?” “The Bouknights,” Chen chirped, “The Bouknights won’t shut up about our Capellan heritage. They have contacts, they could ask on our behalf.” “I have contacts in the ConMag from my Star League days,” Penelope added, “I can help them talk to the right people about making it happen, make it go faster.” “Okay. Okay, yes, this…This is our plan, then,” Loew nodded, “We can do this.” “I have other recommendations you should consider, Director. But the first step is convincing all the groups that you’re in danger, and you need to coordinate.” “What do you have in mind?” “Certain reforms. I know you’ve run things a certain way, but that was to prevent the Hoovers from taking power, and keep power since then. If you aren’t careful, those same methods will be used against you. Each organization has its own way of doing things and its own organizations, but you’ve got to band together now.” “I’ll make sure the other families are on board,” he promised. “Let me know if I can help,” Penelope said. “I appreciate all your assistance, Captain, and your vigilance. Your presence was an unexpected boon.” “Don’t thank me yet. If the League gets involved, Ohrensen will be the beginning of a much bigger war, and we have to win the battles first.” “We’ve survived war before,” Ken declared, “We’ll come through this one, too.” “I have no doubt of that, Lieutenant. I’m at your disposal if you have any questions. In the meantime, we can’t let the Hoovers suspect that we’re onto them. I know Lars Hoover has been lodging complaints. You should make a statement stating that our presence here is legitimate, but let Hoover know that you aren’t happy with how I spoke to him, and that he’ll expect an apology. Which I’ll send, of course. Tell the public that you support our activities, and that your offices are coordinating with us. ‘Fostering community expansion and enrichment’ is a good buzz phrase.” “I hate the idea of coddling that creep,” Loew growled. “Don’t worry. I’ll be sure to grind his tacky tower to fake golds dust when this is over.” Captain Penelope “Dime” Trumbull Commanding Officer, Eden’s Guard Security & Logistics Corporation Lance Leader, Apple Lance KIM-3C Komodo May 31, 3097 15:47 Bargstedt Country Highway Construction Site Outside of Bargstedt, Russonia Ohrensen System, Free World’s League “Captain, we have a situation,” Penelope’s Com lit up and started talking, with Maggie appearing on the screen. Penelope groaned and turned over in her bed, glancing at the console. 15:47. She’s been asleep for an hour. “Maggie, the twins have been asleep for two hours, and so have I. This had better be good.” “We’ve received telemetry from the Chen triad, Captain. They’re reporting that a dropship has landed at an airport with little forewarning outside of a town called Travis, just a bit to the north of us. It’s within flight distance. I’ve notified Leftenant Bates to be ready to scramble, the Nightstalker is ready to take flight at your order to investigate and relay information back to us. They seem to be an armed group, but they did have proper clearances to land at the airport, although the locals didn’t have much warning.” Penelope slid out of bed and grabbed her clothes, “Tell her to scramble and get me visuals. Tell PO Moyer to be ready to take flight, and get Chops and the Gardeners out of bed. I want them to be ready to deploy withing three minutes of Bates getting back to us.” “Aye, Captain,” Maggie said, cutting off. Penelope flipped a switch on her console. Lights came on, flashing yellow, and an automated voice called out. “Yellow Alert. Yellow Alert.” “Company, this is Captain Trumbull. We have an unknown force landing planetside, unknown composition and unknown identification. All hands, be ready for combat action. This is not a drill, I repeat. All hands, ready for combat action, this is not a drill.” Penelope began to strip down to her bra and boxers, and she stuffed a communicator in her ear, and started giving orders to questions streaming at her. As she left her room, Chief Petty Officer Maryjo Williams, followed by Caitir, entered to retrieve the twins and bring them to a saferoom, as they had drilled and practiced at least daily. Headed straight for the Mech depot, Penelope didn’t wait for the rest of Apple Lance, as was protocol for this kind of alert. There was no briefing, no rallying. When Yellow Alert was called, all assets were readied, armed, and deployed as soon as they could; the Lances would coordinate once they were started up. They needed the ‘Mechs stomping around as soon as they could in whatever order they could get them, and they weren’t going to risk the whole Company getting offed by attackers by putting all the pilots in one place all at once so they could have a quick chat about why they needed to be piloting fifty ton death machines. They just needed to be in their death machines. Penelope was the first to her Komodo; this was a sort of mixed blessing, because it meant that she was behind several tons of Endo Steel that she wasn’t before, but it also meant she was the first moving target if there was any shooting. Considering that the mystery force had just landed hours before, she didn’t expect any, but it was certainly possible; ‘Mechs could deploy from a Dropship moments after it landed, from the sky, or even from orbit. From the information feed that Maggie was feeding her, the other Dropship had landed less than a half hour ago, which meant they could have a full Company of Battlemechs already mobilized and on their way to any number of targets. Until they received word from the Nightstalker, though, they had no way of knowing if the new arrivals were hostile or not. Lieutenant Bates would be on them in minutes; in the meantime, Penelope began on the planned ‘Mech patrol pattern they’d established, wandering from Alpha to Beta to Charlie to Delta to Epsilon, and then crisscrossing as coordinating support personnel instructed. As more ‘Mechs came online, the larger the patrol pattern became, and the more information they were able to receive. “Captain, this is Marshal Stowes. I’ve been alerted about the situation,” Stowes said, “I have some units in that area escorting surveyors. I can redirect them to perform some immediate reconnaissance, but our coms aren’t well-secure out there. If they’re listening, they might hear my orders to move in, and whatever they might report back to us. But it would be faster than waiting.” “I don’t mind if they know they’re being watched, Marshal, if they’re willing to take the risk. If our visitors hear, then they might know the scouts are coming.” “They’ll take that risk.” “Then I’ll take their information. I appreciate the assistance.” The risk with the Nightstalker was that it didn’t have an Active Probe; Lt. Bates would have to visually inspect the area and report in, putting her at risk of having her communications being intercepted, or even her VTOL by ground or air forces. The Stealth Armor would keep them from detecting her, unless she was swept by an Active Probe. Still, it was worth the risk, since it had effectively unlimited range, and could cross the distance there and back in less than three hours; it would easily be nine hours until the Battlemechs of Eden’s Guard could stage an attack on the ship, and they didn’t have proper air cover. They would rely entirely on their Battlemechs, which was a major hole in the Company’s roster. Radio moved faster than VTOLs, however. Although the Marshals were in the area, Lt. Bates was faster and was flying. By 18:30, she reported in: “This is Dollar to Eden’s Guard Command, reporting in, please acknowledge, over.” “This is Dime to Dollar, we read you five by five, report on your scouting mission, over.” “Circled the drop zone a few times, I had to keep my distance. They’re loaded for bear out there. Battle Armor, fast attack vehicles. VTOL’s and Aerospace, only one Union-class dropship. The Aircraft are running sorties, but they’re not moving to deploy immediately. They’re setting up camp, a lot like us, it seems, over.” “Any Battlemechs? Over.” “Negative, no Battlemechs were deployed from the Dropship. Battle Armor, Vehicles, Aerospace, and VTOLs were all that I saw, over.” “Acknowledged. Keep making runs around their perimeter and report in every three hours until midnight, then come back and swap shifts, Dollar. Over and out.” “Acknowledged, over and out.” Penelope kept up the patrols for a couple more hours before reducing to trios and shifts. The highest ranking Mechwarrior on duty would pilot her Komodo, and the other two would be in one of the C3-enabled ‘Mechs to have a constant steam of data. The VTOL crews would rotate in the Humming Bird to keep an Active Probe sweep always running. Once out of her ‘Mech, Penelope sent the notification to the Company to stand down from Combat Ready, but remain on Yellow Alert; operations would resume, but everyone would remain on their toes in case something started to explode. Penelope called Ohrensen Aerospace Command, and made a request for the landing permit information, bringing up whatever information they had about the visitors. The dropship was registered as the Spotted Eagle, a standard Mercenary-brand Union-class Dropship, exactly the same kind as the Dyrnwyn. They’d also filed plans for four other spacecraft, a set of Caerleon space-atmosphere transports. All five vessels were registered to the Rabid Wolves Mercenary Company. “A Mercenary unit? Damn!” Penelope hissed, and pulled up what data had been fed to the MRBC about them. There wasn’t much about them; the Eden’s Guard had received their MRBC file on the way to Ohrensen, as the Unit was fully backed by the MRBC literally days after the Eden’s Guard had received their full Bonding. According to the file, they had been on a contract in the Federated Suns. Penelope forwarded everything she had to Maggie, and called the Director. “Captain? I hear there’s some sort of emergency going on?” the Director asked. “Not quite yet, Director. There’s another Mercenary unit that just landed on the planet. They’re a Battle Armor Company called the Rabid Wolves, I think they’re fresh off another contract. I don’t know why they’re here, and we haven’t had any contact with them. As of yet, they haven’t done anything other than unload their equipment. We’re keeping eyes on them, and I’ll let you know if anything changes.” “I can move the Militia to assist with scouting?” “No, we don’t know why the Rabid Wolves are here. If they’re here to counter our presence here, then they might be allied with the Militia. That would tip our hand and let both know we’re onto them.” “Okay. I’ll see who has people out there. Thank you for telling me, Captain. We’ll get this sorted out.” “I will forward everything I have on them to you, as Top Secret. Don’t share it with anyone, not even Ken.” “I understand. Thank you, Captain.” With the call finished, Penelope leaned back in her chair. Just what in the hell was going on here? Captain Penelope “Dime” Trumbull Commanding Officer, Eden’s Guard Security & Logistics Corporation Lance Leader, Apple Lance KIM-3C Komodo June 8, 3097 10:10 Bargstedt Country Highway Construction Site Outside of Bargstedt, Russonia Ohrensen System, Free World’s League Penelope walked with some of the Blue Helms down a strip of buildings along the highway their workers had constructed. Every day it looked less and less like a bunch of burly construction workers in tents, and more and more like a town. Some of the semi-permanent buildings were being converted, or had been moved so that a foundation could be created. Someone had already set up a petrol and charge station down the way for civilian use, and trailers had been brought in so people could have something like a permanent home. Many were being used for businesses now, even restaurants and clinics. Penelope passed by one such building, which was by far one of the most interesting businesses that had cropped up around here. They had raised a small trailer several stories in the air and secured it with extra beams, girders, and cables. They had a pair of fields that had their grass flattened and mowed, and were using it as an airfield for small craft, and the raised trailer as an air traffic control tower. A series of mobile homes had been strung together to act as terminals, offices, and two of them were being used as a restaurant for pilots and passersby. A few more had been converted to act as a motel. This airfield had proved to be an unexpected boon, not only for the locals, but for Eden’s Guard as well. Because it was here, they were able to send advisors, Marshals, and scouts all over the region without having to send their own VTOLs. Getting manufactured goods directly from the Shenzen Industrial district meant that new parts and equipment could be brought in directly, rather than having to shop for it in the city; special orders could be directly delivered. It also opened business all over the mountains and countryside, since it was cheaper to land here than it was in the city. Basic necessities could be shuttled around, handed off between depots that were starting to spring up miles inland. Local general stores well outside the shipping lanes were able to put in orders and expect delivery within hours rather than days or even weeks. Because of this airfield’s importance to the region, some of the construction work on the road had been shifted to pave more strips for the airfield, turning it into a proper airport. It would be months before it would be to higher standards and accepting major aircraft like massive cargo planes or Aerospace. With the new road, it would come in time. Their ‘highway’ was not exactly one of those major projects that created a bloodstream of transportation between major population centers; the truth was that there was so little between Bargstedt and the other cities that there was no way it would get used. The work camp around the Dyrnwyn wasn’t the only one, either; there were multiple roads being constructed around the capital city, which would create a ring around the capital, giving greater civilian and commercial access to the surrounding countryside. With clinics, a police force, and easier transportation, the effect would snowball. The cities were desperately crowded, and people would flock to these newly accessible areas, which were, right now, under Penelope’s control, rather than the established Triads. Already, they were having problems finding room to put people; there simply weren’t enough buildings to house people, and the price of trailers and temporary housing were starting to skyrocket. Eden’s Guard wouldn’t be able to pay for all the projects or stretch their workers thin. The biggest boon was that the Triads had been unable to exercise their enforcers in the development areas, but they still wanted a piece of the action. Each of them, with the exception of the Hoovers, had some kind of legitimate investment, and all security arrangements were being coordinated through the Eden’s Guard-and now the Rabid Wolves. This meant that there were even more jobs to go around, backed not by the shell companies ostensibly sponsoring the Mercenaries, but local investment firms. The Triad’s gangs and enforcers were unable to get in on the action because the Mercenaries were paying them off, and they simply hadn’t taken notice of the opportunity to run legitimate security. Most of them were being diverted by their commanders to other operations related to the expansion anyway, meaning they weren’t even available to begin to corrupt the process. Penelope looked up as one of the Rabid Wolves Aerospace fighters ran a sortie over the camp, keeping eyes out for any signs of trouble. Penelope had been furious when they first shown up, with faulty paperwork and a contract having been put out in Penelope’s name on her behalf without her input or consent. It was clear that their true employers didn’t trust the Eden’s Guard methods or reliability; that was understandable, Penelope had come to terms with this much. The truth was, the Rabid Wolves had proved to be a boon, as they had far more in the way of battle Armor and infantry to handle training and security, allowing Eden’s Guard to focus on construction and conspiracy. With more mercenaries about, people felt safer about moving out of the city to find work in the road construction rush. All in all, the expansion of Ohrensen’s basest infrastructure was going well. The contract was almost certainly going to end well before the road was anywhere near complete, but Penelope had a long list of contractors and consultants that she had already contacted about the opportunity to pick up where she’d left off, once they were done here. They’d sparked a craze, and, provided that the planet survived the violence that was to come, people would be spurred into action and, with any luck, reform, though the Capellans would have to be willing to put in effort, as well. Captain Penelope “Dime” Trumbull Commanding Officer, Eden’s Guard Security & Logistics Corporation Lance Leader, Apple Lance KIM-3C Komodo 6/8/3097 14:20 Bouknight Mansion City of Boluo Ohrensen System, Free World’s League Millicent Bouknight had, thusfar, been the second-most trying Triad leader that Penelope had met, for very different reasons than Lars Hoover had been. Where Lars had refused to listen to what Penelope had to say, Millicent refused to let Penelope get a word in at all. The Bouknights were fiercely Capellan, and had always maintained their identity and ties to the Magistracy, and so they had a very particular way of organizing themselves and their activity as if they remained Capellan citizens. Positions were earned, and loyalty to the House was absolute, meaning they had the most diverse leadership among the Triads, but that didn’t stop the tradition of nepotism, mostly because of the definition of ‘earned’ could be rather loose. Those family members that hadn’t proved themselves had invariably been married off to those in the Triad which mad, meaning that they were all related one way or another. In the three hours that Penelope and Caitir were at the Bouknight Mansion, they had spent almost all of it being introduced and conversing with high-ranking members of the Triad, conversation dominated almost entirely by Millicent. “It comes to no surprise to any of us that Lars refused to hear your opportunities, Captain. Seth here has been with us for decades, all the way back to when that wretched family came here,” Millicent gestured to the aforementioned Seth, who was married to Millicent’s youngest brother, Stefane. Seth bowed to Penelope and opened his mouth to speak, but didn’t get a chance. “It was an awful time. Tensions between the families have never been fantastic, but after the death of the old Director, things reached a boiling point, and all the families were vying for power. Seth here had been a street captain, weren’t you, dear?” “Yes, ma’am.” “He was the one who saw new weapons being put in the hands of upstarts and warned us that there was going to be a new conflict. Stood up to his own community, his own men, to keep us in place. Everyone lost so much, and the fighting was so intense. The planet was left in chaos. We learned the old lessons of the Succession Wars the hard way, I think, the whole planet. Nothing was off limits, and all the families attacked whatever targets they could.” “But we knew better,” Seth remarked. “We did, didn’t we?” Millicent gestured to a painting on the wall. Painted like an ancient European Renaissance piece, it showed Seth himself, wearing an outfit awfully like a Capellan infantry uniform, standing with a squad of soldiers, surrounded by a fleeing enemy. Penelope recognized the area in Bargstedt where this must have happened; it was a park now. The Bouknights were settled in Boluo these days rather than the capital of Bargstedt, where all the the Triads, save the Xi, were based out of. “Certainly we were attacked at our most valuable holdings by our enemies. The Hoovers, especially, didn’t care who was hurt, or what was destroyed. But we knew it was best to fight by proxy, and not allow the planet’s most valuable assets to be damaged. Sometimes it was better to give it up than let it be damaged. We didn’t gain much, but we got through the war with most of what we started with, and we preserved our dignity,” Millicent said, and let out a scoff, “Unlike our rivals. They sold themselves out for the sake of peace and a slice of the Director’s pie. The Shoga didn’t win, they stole their empire. What have they done for Ohrensen?” Millicent waved her hand dismissively at the imagined Shogas, and she turned back to Penelope. “You’ve done more for our world in the last few months than the Director has in nearly thirty years since his confirmation. He’s kept the peace, but he hasn’t kept our prosperity. Every Eagle that’s come into our planet has been put into one Triad’s coffer or another. You build a few roads, and suddenly we’re on the brink of revolution! I must ask how you managed to pull this off.” Penelope didn’t bother trying to answer the assumed question, knowing Millicent would keep on. “I never expected to see the other families see beyond their own noses. The Xi are parasites, smuggling whatever materials they can into everyone’s communities. The Director holds us all by a leash because he controls the water and the power and the transportation. Nobody wants to see anything change, except us. We’re the only ones, you know, that bothered to look beyond our own solar system. We know where Ohrensen sits, we know where our friends truly are. “The hallmark of a good organization is through recognizing talent. I saw talent when I met Seth. I knew he was going to be a man worth keeping, worth fostering. Oh, it’s easy to keep your relatives close, but talent! Real talent, you keep that as close as you can, and let it loose when you need it most. But the best place to find talent is to grow it yourself. Tell me, Captain, is your unit a family affair?” Millicent asked, and gestured to Caitir. To Penelope’s surprise, the old Triad matriarch didn’t continue talking, and Penelope was caught off-guard. “In that my husband and I were founding members of the Eden’s Guard, yes, but it’s not like our officers and Mechwarriors are all my cousins. It’s just myself, Randall, and my children,” Penelope said. “Do you intend on your daughter to inherit your company? Is this some sort of intended legacy for you to pass down?” Millicent asked. Penelope bit her cheek; these were extremely personal questions that she hadn’t even really talked to Caitir or even Randall about, much less this old Triad matriarch she’d just met. “In that I want Eden’s Guard to make an impact on the Inner Sphere and be a force for progress, yes, it is a legacy. A legacy of the Star League, honestly. It meant a lot to all of us. I may be its leader, but Eden’s Guard was not solely my brainchild. There were a lot of us who left the SLDF intending to become independent soldiers.” “Then why you, Captain? Who else could have been a choice to lead your Mercenary company?” Millicen queried. Penelope responded immediately, “Osaze, my old XO, had decades of command and combat experience, was a founding member. Any number of other officers could have taken the job, each with a different specialty, that could have brought the Unit in any number of different directions. But I was chosen as CO by the officers who brought their units and their people to the Guard.” “And why did they pick you?” Millicent asked again. Penelope sighed. The truth was, she was chosen because she was a Battlemech Officer, and Battlemechs were their most valuable asset. It was the asset that employers would see and respect the most; their ideals and extra specialties made them an eccentric choice, but they were given contracts because they had eight Battlemechs and Battle Armor, and Penelope had a proven record in multiple theaters. Additionally, all the other departments (Civil engineers, medical doctors, mechanical engineers, and diplomats) were all focused on their own specialties, Penelope was the best choice without anyone else compromising their own workload. “I was a teacher,” Penelope told her, “I taught new pilots for the Terran Defense Force before House Marik took Terra. Had that not happened, I’d have taught the next generation of Terran warriors, and who knows what might have happened. People knew I could inspire and gain people’s trust. People rally around teachers. It was an obvious choice; where everyone else was a Doctor or Engineer, I was a leader in many ways. Millicent considered this answer, her eyes first keeping on Penelope before wandering around the room as she thought. “I believe in growth over mere power, Captain. With or without you guiding the changes you’ve brought, we must change or we will decay and die. If you are the teacher you boast to be, we must be prepared to keep on without you. I will send my granddaughter, Trinette, to act as a mediator between us, and so that she can learn what we can to replicate your success. I look forward to working with you further.” “I happy to hear that, and I’ll be honored to teach what I can. I did want to speak with you further about something. I know the Director reached out to you last week, but I haven’t heard anything about what you spoke of, or if you spoke at all,” Penelope said. Millicent rolled her jaw and gave a sigh, “Yes, he contacted me, and demanded my cooperation in the future, as he often has before. I’ve assured him of my non-resistance, of course, to keep him away. He’s a distasteful man, and not to be trusted. Plays too closely with the League, and ignores his Capellan heritage. Ignores our Capellan heritage. As if it doesn’t matter. Yet he keeps pushing his brat all over the radio with his songs, singing whatever trite is popular on Atreus these days.” Penelope said, “I won’t ask you to follow the Director blindly. I’m not here to prop up his administration, and I’m not here to coddle any of the Triads, Ma’am, not even yours. I’m here to make sure there are results. We’ll make them with or without you. I don’t need you to fall in line, I need the Triads to not fight each other, and I need them to start delivering value to the planet and to these efforts. The question isn’t who has the most power, the question is who is doing the most, because if the whole planet is sick-” “We share in the illness,” Millicent finished, and she nodded, “What is it that you want us to do, then?” Penelope shrugged and said, “There’s a lot to do, and the Triads have resources to make a lot of it happen. I’ve got everyone on board for an Ohrensen Council to coordinate efforts, everyone except you, Berkowitz, Hoover, and Captain Daw. It’s not a new government, but will be a means of different groups coordinating their work. If you’re there, we’ll certainly have quorum.” “We’re already on the Legislature,” Millicent pointed out. “The Ohrensen legislature is just a different battleground. This isn’t a place for people to lord their power over one another, it’s a venue to coordinate. If a town has a problem, they let us know, and it gets prioritized. Different groups offer resources. Problems get delegated based on who’s best suited to handle it. How familiar are you with project management processes?” Penelope asked. “Help me understand with a layman’s terms,” Millicent requested. “Think about it this way: We only have so many specialties, which can only split into so many teams: Build roads, dig canals, set up sewage systems, wire up communications, or shoot bad guys. If someone has a problem, they bring it to the council, who distributes teams and resources as necessary, based on prioritization set by project management-which is, right now, myself and Company leadership. “You’ll join the council for two reasons: One, you want this project seen to completion. Without it you’re back to the old system of hoarding resources and waiting for the shooting to start. Two, it gives you access to the resources of groups you otherwise couldn’t make use of. You control much of the broadcasting and telecommunications on this world, and this project puts you in a position to expand that network, with more and better customers, even if it means risking or spending resources you have. “This isn’t some gift we’re giving to placate the Triads and say we’re working with you, we’re making you a part of this process. We could do this without you, but with you, everyone benefits a great deal more. Third? It means you’ll be working directly with the other Triads since the arrival of the Hoovers. That means real peace, probably for the first time in your lifetime, certainly the lifetime of your grandchildren. If you pull this off, then the Confederated Magistracy will notice your efforts. The Bouknight Triad will be noticed within Capellan space with even greater respect.” “And the other Triads are on board? With those terms, as you’ve described it?” Millicent asked. “Like I said, everyone but Berkowitz, and only because I haven’t reached out to Mary yet.” “Then we will join. Am I to attend to this myself, or do I send a representative?” “You’ve already offered your granddaughter to coordinate with me, unless there’s someone else you’d like to offer?” “We could send Stefane,” Seth spoke up. Millicent raised her eyebrows and considered Seth for a moment, before nodding and saying, “Stefane manages our estates and their repair. This would be a nice change of pace for him, he does maintain our properties well. I think he would be a good fit. But I still would like Trinette to learn from you, Captain.” “Already said I would,” Penelope vowed. “Fantastic! And may I say, not a word from your daughter this whole time, you’ve raised her to be a respectful young woman,” Millicent commented, finally looking at Caitir. Out of the corner of her eye, Penelope could see a grin stretch on Caitir’s face. She could practically hear her grinning, and Penelope imagined, for a moment, that she could smell the sarcasm and snark brewing inside her daughter. “Thank you, ma’am. I appreciate this opportunity to learn from someone as experienced as you, and see my mother at work,” Caitir said quietly. “You can get a measure of someone by seeing how they raise their children,” Millicent affirmed, “It’s why I asked your mother to bring you. What do you think of our planet so far?” Caitir took in a sharp breath, not expecting to be asked such a loaded question. “It has character,” Caitir said. “Character!” Millicent laughed, “What kind of character is that?” “Character isn’t always a good thing, ma’am,” Caitir pointed out, the smile on her face wiped and replaced with the same neutral face her father Randall had when he concentrated on a problem. Millicent’s laugh died almost immediately. “How is that?” Millicent asked sharply. “A man who mugs for a living but plays music on the side still has character.” Millicent started to turn pink at this comment, and Penelope squeezed Caitir’s shoulder. “What Caitir means to say is-“ Penelope started. “I think I understand Caitir’s meaning perfectly well,” Millicent snarled, and she spun about, ready to storm out. Seth grabbed Millicent’s arm to stop her, and whispered in her ear. “I will not be spoken to-“ Millicent replied to him, but Seth kept talking. Millicent looked to the painting of Seth’s military victory from the original Hoover war, and relaxed. She turned back to Penelope and Caitir. Caitir opened her mouth to speak, but Millicent raised her hand to silence her. “Captain, do you share your daughter’s assessment of Orhensen?” Millicent asked in a calm tone. Penelope mulled over her response for a moment. “I won’t lie to you, ma’am. Not as poetically, and not so simply, but yes. But I wouldn’t be here, talking to you, if I didn’t think it could be changed, and I wouldn’t ask you to help if I didn’t think you could,” Penelope confessed. “So we’re not a lost cause?” Millicent sneered. “You’re a very typical cause,” Penelope corrected, and Millicent cocked and eyebrow. Penelope continued, “Many worlds are structured like yours. The plan is to make your character-“ Penelope glared at Caitir, who winced under her mother’s gaze. “-To your advantage. You may be split along the Triad lines, but it’s easy to compare them to the Capellan Castes.” “Fine,” Millicent said with a huff as she spun about and started to walk out, “We’ll see what your ‘council’ can do.” “Thank you, ma’am,” Penelope bowed, and nearly left, hauling Caitir with her by the arm, to the awaiting World Rover and their Bluehelm guards. Penelope sat in the driver’s seat for a few moments, while Caitir stared at the dash. “Mom, I-“ Penelope held up a hand to silence her, took a breath… And burst into laughter. “Oh, my god, Caitir, that was…That was dangerous as hell, you know that, right?” Caitir blushed, but nodded. She looked at her mom in the eyes, “She did ask.” “She did ask,” Penelope agreed, “Just…We’ll have to teach you the finer points of negotiation.” “Yeah, okay.” Penelope turned the key to start the Rover, but it buzzed and hummed instead of turning over. Penelope scowled, and her eyes went wide. “OUT!” she screamed, leaping out of the vehicle and scrambling to get behind something. There was a spark and a pitiful ‘Pop’ as an explosive under the vehicle misfired and smoked, instead of killing Penelope and her daughter in a fireball. “Caitir!” Penelope yelled. “I’m okay!” Caitir called back, waving her arms over the car, “I’m okay!” Penelope grabbed one of the Bluehelms but the collar of his uniform, “What the fuck just happened? Who the hell had access to my car?” “It was parked in the Bouknights’ garage, I drove it in there myself, but we left it there,” the soldier said, shirking away from the Captain. Penelope shook her ehad. “Okay, yeah, no, okay. Balmy like a marshy scrote, this day’s a scunner,” she squeaked as Caitir came over to embrace Penelope. The Bluehelms started making calls back to the Dyrnwyn to order a pick-up and a technical team to inspect and recover the Rover. “What’s going on out here?” Millicent called from the balcony of the mansion. Penelope looked up to her. “Someone tried to-“ Penelope began, but a true explosion cut her off, as a group of armed men started throwing hand grenades over the fence, and opening fire on whoever they could see. The Bluehelms, with their Infantry Gauss Rifles, started returning fire, giving Penelope and Caitir a chance to run back toward the mansion. They thought better of it when a PPC blew a hole in the side, narrowly missing the balcony where Millicent was standing. With an outraged and terrified holler, the Beuknight matriarch rushed back inside. Penelope still dragged Caitir into the building. “What was it you said, mom? This day’s a scunner? I think you’re right,” Caitir said. Penelope grinned at her, “Keep the heid, lassie. This way, an’ we’ll find an escape. Then I’m makin’ fake gold dust outta Hoover’s gaudy tower.” Captain Penelope “Dime” Trumbull Commanding Officer, Eden’s Guard Security & Logistics Corporation Lance Leader, Apple Lance KIM-3C Komodo 6/8/3097 14:35 Bargstedt Country Highway Construction Site Outside of Bargstedt Ohrensen System, Free World’s League “Lead,” said Ken, intruding on Garrick’s reverie. “I’ve got chatter.” Abandoning his previous train of thought--which had seen him turning the Xi situation over and over in his mind--Garrick fiddled with his comms. Sure enough, he was picking up coded signals on a military band, the telltale sign of somebody in the area who meant business. “Foreman, this is Wolf Lead,” Garrick said on his comm. “We’ve got something live in the area. Have your workers retire to their barracks until I say it’s all clear.” “Oh. Um, c-copy that, Wolf Lead,” the foreman’s voice wavered back, uncertain. Garrick allowed himself a small sigh of annoyance before radioing his reply. “Keep steady, Foreman. I’m not going to let anything happen to you.” “Y-yes, sir.” Garrick flipped back over to lance frequency. “Ken, thoughts?” “Hm.” There was silence as his lancemate contemplated the situation for a few moments. “They won’t be coming from Bargstedt. They know we’ve got hardware out here, and anything comparable coming from the city would draw too much attention for an ambush. And given the landscape, I’m guessing…” He turned his Bushwacker’s long nose and waggled it slightly to indicate the end of the pass the highway was being built through. Beyond, the landscape was rough and hilly--enough to hide the approach of light armor or possibly a small Mech, with a little clever driving. “They’ll come in fast and try to hit us while our options for escaping are limited,” finished Garrick. “I concur. But the problem with their plan--” here he allowed himself a small, predatory grin, “--is that we now know where they’re coming from.” Garrick flipped his comm channel again. “Bastion, this is Canis. We have a hostile force of unknown composition. Requesting air support on standby.” The comms crackled, and Leftenant Breiner’s voice responded. “Copy that, Canis. We’ll have them prepped in five minutes.” “Thanks, Breiner. Let the Captain know what’s going on, too.” Garrick’s finger tightened slightly on the trigger for his Mech’s autocannon. “But I don’t anticipate a hard fight.” - - - A disproportionately long 90 seconds later, Breiner’s voice crackled through Garrick’s cockpit again. “Canis, this is Bastion. I’ve patched through to the local satellite network and gotten eyes on the enemy. Looks like a small armor group--Myrmidons, unless I miss my guess. Garrick licked his lips slowly. He’d set his Shadow Hawk behind the partial cover of a road paver (something that gave him a twinge of guilt, but given that his Mech was far and away the more expensive piece of equipment, he was sure the Captain would understand) and was keeping his eyes, and autocannon, trained on the horizon. “I don’t think bandits would be able to afford a whole group of Myrmidons,” he said quietly. “Did we piss off one of the Triads, somehow?” ventured Ken. Garrick’s mind went back to one of the more recent briefings he’d attended. “Savashri. I think that might be it.” “Huh,” Ken replied. “Well, no matter. We should be able to make quick work of treadheads.” “Don’t get cocky,” said Garrick. “They might not be as heavy as a Mech, but they mount PPCs. A well-placed shot could cause you quite a bit of trouble.” “Copy, Lead.” A bright white gleam in the distance drew Garrick’s eye--sunlight, glinting off of a metal hull. The tanks were cresting the nearest hill. “Hostiles are in visual range,” he radioed, before switching to a general frequency. “Unidentified armor group,” he broadcast. “You are approaching a construction zone under the protection of the Eden’s Guard mercenary company. Reverse your course immediately. Failure to comply will be taken as confirmation of hostile intent.” The electric blue bolt of a PPC shot streaked past his Mech in a near miss. “I had a feeling you’d say that,” said Garrick, spinning up his autocannon. A line of tracers stitched through the air. The armor formation broke as the lead tanks attempted to swerve out of the way, but several shots clipped one and sheared off a substantial amount of armor. “I’ve got a lock, Lead,” said Ken. “Fire at will,” said Garrick. The air filled with the roar of igniting missile thrusters as Ken fired his Bushwacker’s LRM launchers. The salvo arced through the air and came down on a tank, exploding in a blast that reduced the tank to a warped shell. “Too easy,” laughed Ken. Garrick was about to respond when his mech rocked slightly, accompanied by a slight flickering in his HUD. One of the other Myrmidons had landed a solid hit with its PPC, and his Shadow Hawk now had a slight hole in its right torso. Snarling, he returned fire, sending a burst of autocannon shells into the tank’s side and caving it in. “All right, let’s show them what we’re made of. Ronin, fighting advance.” “Roger, Lead.” The two Mechs eased forward, sending a flurry of shells and missiles at their foes. The tanks attempted to fight back, but despite their advantage in numbers, the Mechs had a massive edge in durability and firepower, and by the time the pair reached the entrance to the pass, fully half of the armor formation had been destroyed or crippled. Garrick saw tiny figures emerging from ruined tanks, stumbling down to the ground and running for the nearest available cover in the landscape. “Hey, Lead,” Ken said as he snapped off another shot. “I don’t think they’re all carrying anti-armor loadouts. Did you notice?” “Some of them have lasers mounted instead of PPCs,” Garrick replied, punishing an overly adventurous tank with a quick SRM shot. “I’m not sure why, though.” “I think they’re mounting machine guns, too. Anti-personnel configurations.” Garrick’s jaw clenched. “Those stravag--those bastards were going to slaughter our workers.” Ken made a noncommittal noise, but Garrick knew his lancemate well enough to tell that he was similarly outraged. “The survivors are running, Lead. Should we, uh… should we pursue them?” “Hold that thought, Ronin.” Garrick flipped his frequency. “Bastion, this is Canis. Hostiles are on the run. Get a salvage team in here double quick--I want every last bit of intel we can extract from the wreckage, and I want it yesterday.” “Roger, Canis. ETA 15 minutes. We’ll rendezvous with you and Ronin at the construction site.” Garrick allowed himself a toothy, predatory grin. “Oh, don’t wait up for us, Bastion. We’re going hunting.” 1st Lieutenant Garrick “Canis” Wolf Commanding Officer, Eden’s Guard Security & Logistics Corporation Lance Leader, Wolf Lance SHD-5D Shadow Hawk 6/8/3097 14:45 Bouknight Mansion City of Boluo Ohrensen System, Free World’s League It was going to be difficult to tell the Bouknights, in the middle of the gunfight, that their security couldn’t be trusted. They had no time for a discussion, they could only act and move. The Blue Helms’ radio wasn’t broadcasting anymore since the attack started; the fact that they’d thought to block transmissions at all was worrisome. It meant that the Hoovers had someone in command, or at least in charge of planning, that was competent enough to not only think of it, but train and mobilize the equipment. Penelope supposed that the Bouknights would have something strong enough to break through any kind of localized blocking, but given that there was a gunfight going on outside, and a Myrmidon tank blowing holes in the mansion, it was unlikely to be a strategy worth pursuing. With no heavy weapons, air cover, or communication, they only had two options: Surrender or running away. Penelope was disinclined to trust the lives of the Bouknights or Caitir to the goodwill of the Hoover Triad. “Garage,” Penelope instructed the Bluehelms, and they formed up around Penelope and Caitir. Penelope was fully trained to operate as an Infantry soldier, but it had been a while since she’d trained or kept up her qualifications; she wouldn’t expect her guard to work with her like that, especially since their priority was protecting Penelope, not treating her like one of the squad. It was best to keep down and move along with the team. The Bouknights guards didn’t have the military training and drilling that the Bluehelms did, and were basically walking around Seth and Millicent in a group with their weapons raised, instead of a coherent formation. “Captain, I would very much like to avail myself of your services,” Millicent told Penelope as their groups walked side by side. Penelope nodded. “Garage,” Penelope said, “How fast does the door open?” “I…Never thought to pay attention,” Millicent admitted. Penelope nodded, and patted the pointman on the shoulder to signal to keep moving downstairs into the basement garage. The lights flickered and the walls shook as another PPC blast, and the top floors collapsed in on itself. Anyone who was still upstairs was likely buried under several tons of wood and plaster. Penelope tapped two of the Bouknight guards on the shoulder. “You two. Go open the door to the garage.” They looked to Millicent, who waved them off to attend to the assigned duty. Penelope looked to another Bouknight guard. “Keys to the vehicles?” “Here,” Millicent called out, opening a panel with a key, revealing rows of car keys. “Do you have anything armored?” Penelope asked, and Millicent picked out a key. “We’ll need two vehicles. We can’t risk both parties in one vehicle,” Penelope said. Millicent paused and considered the lines of keys for a moment, and pressed the alarm button on another; a vehicle chirped. With a grin, she handed Penelope a key. The garage doors began to open, and they loaded up into the armored SUV’s. “Head into town,” Penelope ordered, “They’ll be able to more easily track and follow us out in the open road. Even if they’re in town, we can use the density to our advantage. Even if we have to ditch the cars. We need to get away from the radio blockers to call in heavier response; the Blue Helms don’t know what they’re getting into yet.” “Everything’s in frickin’ Mandarin,” Penelope’s driver grumbled, looking at the dash, but he was able to start up the ICE engine without fuss. AS they drove to the entrance of the garage, a group of gunmen started taking positions in it. The Bouknights’ vehicle slowed down, but the Bluehelm driver honked the horn, encouraging them to keep driving, and the other vehicle gunned the engine, splattering one of the Triad gunmen off the side of his hood, and both vehicles kept driving through their gunfire. Once out of the driveway, they got a good look at Myrmidon tank that had been taking shots at the mansion. The Bluehelm started to drive in a serpentine pattern, while the Bouknight driver just drove as fast as he could down the road. Penelope bit her lip; a straight but fast vehicle could still get hit with relative ease by a trained crew. She hoped that the Hoovers didn’t drill their tankers well. “Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god…” Caitir was clutching her head and curled up in the back seat. Penelope reached over and grabbed her daughter’s seatbelt. “Caitir,” Penelope said, prying her daughter open so she could put it on, “Put on your seatbelt.” The girl sat up, allowing Penelope to buckle her in; Caitir started to take deep, frequent breaths. Penelope rested her hand on Caitir’s shoulder. “Honey? Look at me, Caitir. I need you to look at me. Breathe with me, in. Out. You’re fine, okay? We’re okay.” The vehicle shook as the Myrmidon’s SRM’s landed on the road behind them, and a blue streak flew by them, clearly missing both vehicle. Caitir let out a shriek, and grabbed her mother. “Breathe with me, Caitir. Breathe with me. Listen. You’re going to be OK. The Bluehelms know what they’re doing, okay? The first time under fire is always terrifying, but you need to keep a clear head. We need to survive this, and we’ll get them back.” “I’ve heard gunfire before…” Caitir said. “It’s never been directed at you before, Penelope said, “And you don’t have seven tons of armor between you and it the way I had in my first time. But we drilled for this. Remember our drills.” “Stay down, stay alert, stay with you,” Caitir recited. “Exactly. We’re going to be okay. The Gardeners will be here, they’ll clear all this up. You’ll be back on the Dyrnwyn before dinner, okay?” “Before dinner,” Caitir vowed, and gave a shudder. With a breath, she found her bearings and steeled herself a bit. Caitir kept curled up with her head down, but she wasn’t babbling anymore. Penelope looked out the windows, and saw a pair of vehicles driving up beside them. “There’s about to be more shooting, Caitir,” Penelope warned. Caitir peeked at the window to see, and a bullet struck the window, with the tempered glass leaving a round dent and spiderweb pattern around it, rather than a hole in it and Caitir’s head. “Fuck!” Caitir yelped, ducking down again. The driver slowed, allowing the attackers to get ahead just enough so that they could strike the rear right side of the Hoover car, causing it to fishtail, swerve, and flip as the enemy driver attempted to compensate, but ended up flipping their own vehicle. The Blue Helm, knowing how to drive offensively, didn’t slow or stop, but instead sped up to direct and neutralize the shock and shake of the impact. The other vehicle, realizing the danger they were suddenly in, tried to keep their distance to fire at the tires, which had been similarly reinforced like the rest of the car. The Bluehelm sped up until they’d caught up with the Bouknight car and passed them, giving their attacker too much target to deal with and creating confusion. The Bouknights, seeing the attacker, rolled down one of the windows and a guard tried sticking his head out of the car, but a burst of bullets deterred him from attempting the stunt and forced him back in. “Moron,” the driver grumbled, and drove in front of the Bouknight vehicle on the opposite lane, forcing the attacker to get closer as they drove in the center of the road. With a sudden jerk of the vehicle, he eased onto the brakes, slowing the car without stopping it, and allowing both of the other vehicles to pass, before he drove up alongside the attacker, pinning it between the two SUV’s. The Bouknight driver seemed to understand the strategy, and followed suit. Uncomfortable with this speed and narrow driving conditions, the enemy driver backed off, and once again, the Bluehelm hit the brake, forcing the enemy vehicle, which hadn’t stopped entirely, to hit the rear of their own car. With its sturdier and heavier construction, the SUV was able to speed up again, a bit worse for wear, while the lighter civilian model car totaled itself and spun out, losing a tire when it wrapped itself around the guardrail. “That was fucking crazy, man! What the hell are you thinking?” one of the other Bluehelms slapped the driver on the shoulder. “I’m thinking the windows can only take so much,” the driver said, “Now don’t touch me, I’m still driving.” “Fucking hell!” another soldier cried, “That was both the dumbest and greatest thing I have ever seen, you moronic, glorious bastard!” “I would ask that you attempt to avoid destroying the vehicle that my daughter is currently in,” Penelope growled at him, “But that was damn fine driving. Where did you learn how to do that?” “I, uh…I wanted to be a movie stunt driver when I was a kid. I almost made it, too, but the Terran Defense Force needed me more,” the driver said, “Now with all due respect, ma’am, I need to focus on driving. We’re coming up on the town now, and I see some smoke.” Captain Penelope “Dime” Trumbull Commanding Officer, Eden’s Guard Security & Logistics Corporation Lance Leader, Apple Lance KIM-3C Komodo 6/8/3097 15:15 Hing Jyu’s Garage City of Boluo Ohrensen System, Free World’s League The city of Boluo was under siege, with the Hoover triad was certainly making a mess of things, with armed death squads gunning down everyone they saw not wearing Hoover colors, or doing much worse things to them. Survivors were barred in their homes, or whatever other shelter they could find, and taking potshots at the attackers, creating standoffs between the locals and the triads in parts. As the two SUV’s drove through, they were able to disrupt some of these gunfights by driving through-or into-them, giving the defenders a break and even some clear shots at their enemy. Penelope wasn’t quite sure where the Bouknight vehicle was bringing them, but they didn’t know the town. Since her own car had been in the protection of the Bouknights when it had been rigged, she didn’t trust the footsoldiers of the Triad. If the attacker had been one of the guards with Millicent and Seth, though, they would likely have taken the opportunity already and at least done in the Bouknights, if not Penelope and Caitir as well; whoever had set the bomb probably hadn’t stuck around. The SUV in front slowed as they came to an auto body shop, and honked a tune to the building. Penelope saw a face in the window of the garage look at them. The driver of the Bouknight vehicle stuck his hand out the window and flashed a gang sign: the index and middle finger crossed and the thumb and ring finger folded at the palm. With the sign flashed, the garage opened, and the SUV’s rolled inside. Four armed Triad gangsters formed up around the vehicles, their weapons at ease but loaded. The driver stepped out first with a wide grin. One of the gangsters beamed and, setting down his weapon on a tool tray, went to embrace the driver. They exchanged words in Mandarin, gesturing to each other, the shop, and to the vehicles. Penelope’s driver moved to open the door, but she interjected. “Let them talk it out. We don’t want to spook them. We’re in their home unannounced and uninvited.” “Yes, ma’am,” the driver said, and he relaxed, watching the encounter before them unfold. The Triad driver gestured to their SUV, and opened the door. The other Triad guards stepped out, and helped Millicent step out. With her head held high, she looked above and around the gangsters, who all bowed or kneeled upon seeing her. Millicent walked about the garage, inspecting it for propriety, before addressing the leader of the gangsters. He nodded and bowed profusely to her, and kissed her ring. Millicent turned to her driver and addressed him, who similarly bowed and kissed her ring. When he was done, he gestured to Penelope’s vehicle, and Millicent gestured them to join them in the garage. Penelope opened the door first, and approached. “Captain, this has been a most trying day,” Millicent said, “My family owe you a great debt for getting us out of there.” “Just keeping us alive,” Penelope said, “Corporal Dunn here deserves most of the credit for saving us with his insane driving.” “Indeed,” Millicent nodded, “We are here because of your quick thinking and action, Corporal. In our family, such skill and loyalty is rewarded.” “When this is done, we will be marked as brothers,” the Bouknight driver said to Dunn, slapping him on the shoulder with a grin on his face. “Marked-What?” Dunn blinked, looking to the Captain. She gestured to the gangsters in the garage; they all had tattoos on their arms, chests, and lower necks. Dunn’s eyes widened, and he looked to Penelope. “Seriously?” “Only if you want it, Dunn.” “Are you kidding me? This is gonna be awesome.” Penelope patted him on the back, grinning, and looked to Millicent. “We won’t be safe here long. They’ll track us.” “We’ll need to move soon, then,” Millicent agreed. Penelope looked to the Bluehelms. “Try the radio again,” she gestured, and the soldier obliged. After a few minutes of fiddling, she shook her head. “We’re not blocked, but I can’t get our dispatch, relay, or the Rabid Wolves. I can get the local cops, they might have something stronger?” the soldier offered. “The cops won’t help us,” the leader of the garage Triad said, “They’re useless. They’re held up in their station with all their guns, shooting anyone, not just Hoovers.” “They’ll help me,” Millicent insisted. “I wouldn’t be sure,” Penelope said, “Someone planted a bomb on my car. It’s why I hadn’t left when the attack happened. It was in your garage, ma’am. You have traitors in your organization, and the police, I’m guessing, didn’t make vows to you.” Millicent made a grimace and adjusted her jacket. “Fine. What do you suggest?” “Is there a television or radio broadcaster in this town?” Penelope asked, “We send out an emergency broadcast toward the Dyrnwyn. I guarantee the Hoovers don’t have anything that can block that, not this fast anyway. It might take a couple hours to reach that far, but they’re listening for this sort of thing, especially if I broadcast in code.” “It’s hundreds of miles away, though, how would it reach that far?” “They’ll hear it,” Penelope insisted, “We’ve set up a network of smaller and pirate radio stations, with personnel we’ve trained to listen and relay our coded messages, all around Bargstedt. The nearest one is a fire station just a few miles from here; they’ve been training with our pilots and doctors for search and rescue operations in rural areas.” “I hadn’t realized you’ve expanded this far.” Penelope shrugged, “Lots of people came to us for free and cheap training. They’ll pick up my message and spread it to the next station. Once it’s in the Bargstedt area, it’ll be everywhere.” “There’s a radio station in town. 95.7 FM, the Ride,” the garage Triad leader said, “Plays good music, raises money for the school, too. They’ll help.” “Pillars of the community, huh? How far away’s the station?” Penelope asked. The gangster shrugged. “Ten minute drive up the road.” Penelope looked around the garage; they had four cars being worked on in here, and she gestured to them. “How many of these can drive?” The Triad gangsters all grinned, laughed, and chattered between each other. Their leader gave her a smirk and crossed his arms. “All of them. What are you thinking?” “Greatest and dumbest driving we’ve ever seen.” Captain Penelope “Dime” Trumbull Commanding Officer, Eden’s Guard Security & Logistics Corporation Lance Leader, Apple Lance KIM-3C Komodo 6/8/3097 16:30 WXRC 95.7 FM “The Ride” City of Boluo Ohrensen System, Free World’s League Not all of the cars in the garage had tinted windows, meaning that only three of them could hide the VIP’s, but Penelope had thought of a way to get around them being targeted: She disguised the VIP’s. At least, herself and Seth; they dressed up as gangsters, and rode in the other vehicles as gunners. The undamaged SUV held Millicent, while the tinted street car held Caitir, who had been given a bullet vest and helmet. The six vehicles burst out of the garage. Almost immediately, a Hoover opened fire on them, peppering the damaged SUV to no effect. Penelope guessed that he was a scout; she held up her shotgun as they drove past him and pumped a shell into the man’s chest, leaving him to bleed out on the ground. As he was alone, she guessed he was just some kind of scout. Not anymore. The Hoovers had interceptors in town after their romp down the roadway from the Bouknight mansion, and one of them started to drive toward them as they hit the main street. When the six cars scattered, however, they sat parked, confused as they tried to decide which one to chase. Deciding that the undamaged SUV was probably the best target, they chased it up a hill. Penelope’s driver, one of the garage Triads, didn’t move to intercept right away. Instead, he made a series of turns onto parallel roads on opposite blocks, never slowing or stopping as he drove. They drove by a death squad who brandished their weapons as they went by, but didn’t do anything to attack them, as they were preoccupied with some poor woman they’d found to torment. There was a definite difference in the way the Triad driver handled his car over the way Dunn drove. Dunn had used his SUV like a high-speed tank, where this driver was more of a racer, using the shape of the road and the neighborhood to navigate and do his work for him. After a few merges, they ended up on the same road as the SUV, which was being handled by the leader of the garage Triads, and he was not making things easy for their interceptor, who kept trying to line up a shot for his gunner, but the SUV wouldn’t keep still long enough, forcing the interceptor to waste time to line up another shot or waste ammo on the body of the vehicle. Penelope leaned out of the window with her shotgun at the ready, and blew out their rear window. The enemy driver panicked, trying to swerve out of line. Penelope was not a stranger to hitting a moving target while, herself, was on the move; after all, she was a Mechwarrior. With a second blast, she shattered their windshield, causing more chaos for the driver and forcing him to slow down; big mistake. Penelope cocked her shotgun again, aimed, and, with the easier and slower target, aimed just below the headrest of the driver’s seat. She could see through the resulting hole she’d made, and the interceptor swerved off the road and in to a brick wall, allowing the SUV to escape unharmed. With the interceptor dealt with, Penelope’s driver headed to the radio station. It was a brick building, with a large antennae on the roof several stories tall. There was a sign on the front of the station with a man on a motorcycle, and the word ‘The Ride’ written beneath in Mandarin, Greek, German, and English. There was a trio of men on the roof with assault rifles who kept their weapons trained on the vehicles as they drove circles around the building. Penelope’s driver slowed down in front of the gunmen, and waved a white cloth out the window a few times before driving off again. Another one of their vehicles slowed to a stop to let out a couple of Triad gangsters, who rushed to the door, also holding a white cloth, which they waved at the gunmen on the station. When Penelope’s car passed by the front door, which was thankfully just a normal (and metal) door rather than a glass entrance, she saw the gangsters being let in. On their next lap, she in her surroundings. This wasn’t the densest part of the town, meaning there was plenty of room between buildings that gave them clear lines of sight. The wall along the roof was chest high, giving the gunmen great cover to shoot down from. With only a few windows and no big, glass doors, the station didn’t have a major structural vulnerability. Short of a tank, the radio station was a fantastic place to defend. The only thing that made it unappealing was the fact there was no place to park their vehicles in cover; they would have to make a break for the parking lot if they needed to get to their cars. That, and the fact that the Hoovers did, in fact, have at least one tank. When they drove around again, the gangsters were waving their cloth in the doorway to signal it was clear. Millicent’s SUV drove up next and came to a stop in front, and she rushed to the door, and was ushered in by her men. Next, Caitir’s car came by, and she rushed in. Penelope’s driver came by after, and Penelope rushed out of the car before it had even come to a full stop. She grabbed Caitir’s hand as they ran to the door together, and were pulled inside by the staff. “Are you still broadcasting?” Penelope asked them as she came inside. “Yes, we’ve been broadcasting an emergency signal for the last hour. Who are you, what are you all doing here?” a man asked them. “This is Millicent Bouknight. I’m Captain Penelope Trumbull, this is my daughter, Caitir. I need to make a broadcast to the Eden’s Guard and Rabid Wolves Mercenary Companies.” The Bluehelms arrived next, with their Gauss Rifles in hand. Corporal Dunn stood next to the man, looking him straight in the eye. “Roof access?” he demanded, “We’ll set up shooting lines.” “Uh…Fen, show them how to get onto the roof,” the man instructed, “Did you say the Mercenary Companies? The ones doing all that road work at Bargstedt?” “Yes, that’s us. I need to call my men, get them to send heavier ordnance.” “How are you-“ “Dammit, man, they have tanks! We need fucking lasers to blow them up! Just bring me to the broadcasting room!” Penelope shoved him down the hall, “We don’t have time for this!” “All right, all right, I’ll bring you to the broadcasting room!” he agreed, bringing them through an office. Penelope stopped as they walked by a map mounted on the wall, and she ran her finger over the circles, and tapped on certain spots. “Come here,” she called to the man, “These are all the different stations in the region, right? Do you have a way of calling them?” “Yeah, we can call them. We’ve all been trying to contact the Militia, but they haven’t responded. “Call them, and tell them to rebroadcast our signal. As many stations as you can contact, tell them that it’s an emergency. We need to get the signal out this way-See here, by Travis and Bargstedt? That’s where the Rabid Wolves are, and this is where the Eden’s Guard are.” “Okay. Broadcasting room is this way.” Penelope continued down the offices and into the broadcasting room, where the DJ was reading from a script, reporting on the situation in Boluo. “Uh, our station manager just walked in, please stand by,” the DJ said, and set it to loop and stood as Penelope and the manager entered the room. “This is Captain Trumbull, of the mercenaries that arrived a couple months ago,” the manager said, “She says she can get help.” “Puuk gaai!” “No really, I’ve got to make some important broadcasts,” Penelope said, motioning for the DJ to the door, “Please.” With a huff, the DJ stepped aside, allowing Penelope to sit in the booth and get herself adjusted. She grabbed a piece of paper and started writing down her thoughts; this was the first non-frantic moment she’d had. They’d spent nearly an hour fixing and preparing the vehicles for taking off out of the garage. Once she was happy with what she had to say, she flicked the switch to go back on the air, and started reading out a coded message. To anyone but Eden’s Guard staff, it was utter nonsense, as she told a strange story: “There was a rabbit named Jake. He lived in Farmer Po’s garden. There were carrots in the garden; carrots in the garden. The carrots were purple. Jake got fat on the carrots; Jake got fat on the carrots. The worms in the dirt told Jake he ate too many carrots. Worms in the dirt. The ants on the ground told Jake he ate too many carrots. The ants on the ground. Jake has kits. Jake has kits.” Once the full message had been broadcast, recorded, and looped, Penelope let out a long sigh. It had only been a couple hours since she’d met with Millicent, but she was exhausted already. Penelope’s head rolled to look at the engineer’s booth, where the DJ, engineer, and other station staff were arguing about something, and gesturing to Penelope. One of them started to bawl and sit against the wall. The manager came back in, took a moment to check on his employee, and entered the booth. “I contacted the other stations. The ones that responded said they’ll relay our signal, Captain. You really think they’ll send help?” Penelope threw up her hands. “Purple carrots.” “What?” “It’s code; means we have a client in need of rescue. They’ll be here. Thank you so much; I didn’t get your name when I came in. I know I was pretty rough with you back there, I’m sorry,” Penelope said. “It’s a crazy time. I’m Chin Zaul.” “Good to meet you, Zaul. I’m Penelope. Is everyone in?” “Some of the cars are still scouting the neighborhood for the attackers. Who are these guys? What’s going on out there?” Zaul asked. “Hoovers. They’ve got military gear, too. Things are about to get pretty bad out there. This is probably just the beginning.” “Why would the Hoovers attack? I don’t understand.” “They were…” Penelope looked through the booth again, and sighed. The crying man was rambling to the DJ and shaking his head. A thought passed through her head; if they hadn’t come, then Ohrensen wouldn’t be devolving into civil war. She’d brought her mercenaries here to spearhead an invasion from another country, and people like the ones in this radio station were going to be caught up in it. She shook her head. No. The situation on Ohrensen was screwed. Fighting here was going to happen one or another. She hadn’t pulled the trigger, someone had already set up the gun. She’d just given them a target. She was the target, in fact, and these people were going to get caught up in the crossfire even without her. Ohrensen had been a powder keg from the beginning. The question was, how was she going to leave these people with something when it was over? “Captain?” “Someone fucked with you,” Penelope said. “Sorry?” Penelope grabbed another piece of paper, and started writing down more thoughts, “Let me know when you receive a response. It should be something to the effect of ‘Rabbit Jake will taken out of the garden,’ on these frequencies and on these channels.” She handed Zaul the paper, and kept writing, “Let me know once you hear, then I’d like to make another broadcast.” “All right, if you insist.” Penelope kept writing, read what she’d written, and wrote it again, repeating it a couple more times. Someone came into the booth, and only then did she look up; Caitir held a glass of water and a plate with a fish and some greens on it. “They’d ordered some takeout before all this happened,” Caitir said, “They had leftovers. Thought you might want some.” Penelope accepted the food and drink from Caitir, who immediately took to inspecting all the equipment as Penelope chugged the water and chowed on the fish. “Man, this is neat,” Caitir mentioned. “You see more advanced tech every day on the Dyrnwyn,” Penelope said. “Well yeah, but it’s not like this. That’s all military tech and spaceship stuff. Like, a couple steps above what dad’s shown me. But I’ve built radios before. This I understand,” Caitir said. Penelope scooted aside so Caitir could take a closer look at the knobs, switches, and wiring. Penelope couldn’t help but beam; even in the middle of a combat zone, Caitir was so much her father’s daughter, a kind of curiosity about everything that nothing could get in the way of. Penelope knew that, when they got back, she was going to be putting in requests for radio equipment so she could set up her own and play with it. Caitir stopped, and looked at the paper Penelope had been writing on, and read the message. She nodded her head along with it, shaking it at another part. Caitir grabbed a pencil, and wrote something on the paper. “This for the broadcast?” Caitir asked after she’d already made her adjustments. “Yeah, after we get a response from Maggie or Captain Whitley.” “Try this. We want people to come together, right?” Penelope nodded, “Yeah. Yeah, that’s good. Thank you, Caitir.” ----- 6/8/3097 17:05 Outside of Bargstedt Bargstedt Country Highway Dyrnwyn Dropship Intelligence Center Ohrensen System, Free World’s League “Leftenant!” “Yes, Staffer?” “I’m getting a broadcast from the northeast. It’s one of our codes,” the Staffer offered Maggie a piece of paper with the message on it. “Purple carrots,” Maggie grumbled, and she motioned to the radio, “Send an acknowledgement. Rabbit Jake will be taken out of the garden. The worms will feast, and the ants will march. Corporal! I need you to open a channel with Captain Whitley. Private! Call Kiwi, Chops, and Halfstack. I want to swap the Gardners for the Blue Helms on the Shun, now.” “Yes, ma’am.” “I have a line to Captain Whitley, ma’am.” “Outstanding. Captain Whitley, this is Leftenant Park. I just received a message from the Captain in Boluo. There are heavy tanks in the area, and she’s requested an aerial strike to take out the armor. They need an extraction, and they have an essential VIP that requires priority protection. She’s also requested Battle Armor; I’ve already ordered Gardner Lance to deploy instead of the Bluehelms. Over.” Maggie pointed to the region map on the table, “Staffer, find me the radio stations near and around Boluo.” “Yes, ma’am,” the Staffer immediately took to looking on the map, methodically going grid by grid, “Here. WXRC, at the edge of the city, and another, WKAS on the opposite side of the city.” “Relay the coordinates to Captain Whitley. Captain Trumbull will be at one of those radio stations.” Captain Penelope “Dime” Trumbull Commanding Officer, Eden’s Guard Security & Logistics Corporation Lance Leader, Apple Lance KIM-3C Komodo 6/8/3097 17:15 WXRC 95.7 FM “The Ride” City of Boluo Ohrensen System, Free World’s League “I spot aerial vehicles, south-by-southwest,” Corporal Dunn announced, gesturing toward the center of the city. There were few factions on Ohrensen with aerial vehicles of any sort, aside from a handful of privately owned vehicles. The Militia was one, but they hadn’t made indication of any will to interfere in what had been going on. If the Hoovers had any to bring to bear, they would have used them already in an attack like this, and would have pursued the escaping vehicles at the attack on the mansion. “I gotta say, I’m real grateful they showed up after all,” Private Zahir said, “Not easy to admit that about another Merc group muscling in on your contract, I gotta say.” “What’s that noise?” one of the civilian gunmen asked, holding up his hand for silence, and they all listened for a moment. Laser and rocket fire broke up the sounds of what could easily be a herd of elephants rampaging through the streets. Dunn broke out into a grin. “Never heard Battle Armor in action before?” “Never had the opportunity,” the gunman admitted. “Vehicle!” Zahir called out. In the last hour, the Bouknight drivers had chased off a few interceptors that had tried to make a few drive-bys on the station, to no success so far. About twenty minutes before, a group of gunmen had tried charging the station; they were still baking in the sun on the sidewalk with large Gauss rifle holes placed in their chests. The vehicle that approached wasn’t just a souped-up car with a bunch of Hoovers with rifles or submachine guns; this was a modified police van, designed to move SWAT teams around the city while under fire. The vehicle was painted straight black, with no markings to tell them who it belonged to. The fact that the Bouknight drivers were flanking it, taking shots at the car and its tires, did not speak well for the van’s affiliations or contents. “Target!” Dunn yelled, and his squad formed up along the wall on the roof, “Target is armored! Aim for the driver!” The Bluehelms lined up their shots, and waited for Dunn’s order. “Fire!” Five Gauss Rifles let out supersonic ‘cracks’ as the slugs slammed into the windshield, leaving holes in the reinforced glass. The slugs they’d brought were designed to mushroom when they impacted, rather than pierce through their target, for anti-personnel rather than anti-armor. Still, supersonic rounds with concentrated fire on the weakest armoring of the vehicle was bound to cause some damage. After a second volley blasted a large hole in the windshield, the van swerved into the parking lot and stopped when it struck a light pole in front of the building. The side door of the van swung open, and a smoke grenade obfuscated their view of the attackers inside, but that didn’t stop the squad from opening fire on the target anyway, trying to kill anyone they could running out. Inside the station, the crew blocked the entrances with whatever heavy furniture they could to try and prevent the attackers from getting in, but there was only a handful of people inside. Penelope, still armed with a shotgun, kept guard at a hallway connected to two entrances as the doors were blockaded. The attackers could theoretically enter through the windows, but it would be a complicated and dangerous venture for them. Penelope hissed out a curse as she heard one of the doors she was covering slam open; the gunmen on the top hadn’t killed them after all. Pressed against a wall corner, she aimed her shotgun down the hall and fired, landing the lead man on his ass, cocked, and shot the next one. The third man broke into a run, but Penelope managed to plug him, and focused on the entrance. Wisely, the attackers had ducked behind cover, and returned fire from around the corner. Penelope ducked back and took a moment to push more shells into the shotgun, and cursed when she heard the other door, which she didn’t have line of sight on, open. “I need help over here!” she shouted, “They’re coming in the back!” She could hear her own gunmen coming down from the roof access, but they would not come in time. A hand grenade landed in the hall, and Penelope jumped away. It went off, blasting through the plaster wall and leaving holes she could see through. “Suicidal bawbags!” Penelope shouted as she scrambled to get back on her feet, but one of them was upon her already, the gangster opening fire from the hip and shouting. Penelope rolled out og his line of fire into an office, and got to her feet again at a crouch. Peeking around the corner, she aimed at this attacker, only to find another one stepping into her doorway. Penelope raised her arm to take the rifle butt swung at her head, and pushed up with her legs for a no-distance tackle and shove the attacker back. With a bit of distance, she caught Mr. Spray-and-Pray in the middle of reload and blew his head off. Just as Penelope twisted to shoot the other, they came at her with a combat knife, forcing Penelope to put her gun between her and the gangster and deflect the strike. With the knife shoved aside but still firmly in grip, the gangster used their other hand to punch Penelope in the side of the head. Penelope shoved back again, unable to get her hands out to properly defend herself as she’d been pressed against the wall. Even with her years of combat training, this was a crappy situation for her to be in; if Penelope went for her own knife, her attacker would be on her by the time she had it in hand. If she tried to shoot again, she would be in the same situation she’d just been in, with the knife coming at her and only her gun between them. If she went only hand to hand, the attacker still had the advantage of the blade. Turning the shotgun to hold it like a club, she didn’t quite have a grip on it, but Penelope did have a bit more distance with the weapon like this than they did with their knife as they came at Penelope again. The shotgun smacked across the attacker’s face, but the knife slashed a gash into Penelope’s bicep. With her other hand, Penelope grabbed the knife arm, dropping the shotgun, and she twisted, putting her weight on the arm to force the knife to be dropped, but her opponent kneed her in the ribcage and gave her respite to get out of the hold. Penelope saw that the Bluehelms were now in the room and decided that discretion was the better part of valor here, and bolted from the fight to give them a shot at her enemy. Instead of the ‘snap’ of the Gauss Rifles, though, there was a ‘boom’ of a shotgun. Penelope ducked behind a wall. When she saw the Bluehelms disregarding her opponent, Penelope looked; they were now laying in a puddle of blood on the ground, and Caitir was holding the shotgun, aimed at the new corpse. The Bluehelms chased a target in the hallway, and Penelope ducked over to Caitir, who didn’t waver from aiming the gun at the corpse. With her uninjured arm, Penelope gave Caitir a gentle push to go back into the broadcast room, where the other radio staff were laying on the ground and covering their heads. “I’ve taught you a hundred times to stay down in situations like this, Caitir!” Penelope hissed. “You’re welcome!” Caitir rolled her eyes. “Caitir, you could have been killed.” “They pulled a pistol, they were going to shoot you!” “You were waiting.” “They had a knife on you!” “AUGH!” Penelope directed her frustration from her daughter to the flesh wound on her arm, “Tie this up for me, Caitir, before I pass out from blood loss.” Caitir dug into a pocket on her jacket and pulled out a pair of tampons, which she pressed against the wound, and tied them down with a hair scrunchie. Shouts of ‘Clear!’ let Penelope release the breath she’d been holding. “Two hours ago you were cowering in the back of the car,” Penelope said. “I don’t understand why you’re complaining,” Caitir said flatly. “Because you could have been shot!” “I could have been shot cowering on the floor here! At least this way, you didn’t get shot.” “You know what?” Penelope brandished a finger, “You know what? That was fantastic, Caitir. Thank you. Stupid, and you know why. But you did save me.” Caitir squeezed the impromptu bandage, “I’m sorry I screwed things up with Miss Bouknight at the mansion. I shouldn’t have said that.” Penelope ran her good hand through Caitir’s hair, “It’s okay. I’ve screwed up on this mission, too. At least your screw-up didn’t end with us getting shot at. Mine did.” Caitir let out a laugh, and sat with her mother. The Bluehelms entered the room, sweeping around with their rifles to check for enemies. They announced ‘Clear’, and one of them knelt to Penelope. “Captain, you’re hurt.” “It’ll hold. Go find Millicent and Seth, I want to know if they survived,” Penelope ordered. “Madame Bouknight is fine. She was in the bathroom,” Dunn said. “And Seth?” “Back here!” he called, raising a hand. “What about..Um…The manager? I’m sorry, I’ve forgotten your name,” Penelope asked. “We’ve got two civilians in another room. One of them caught some shrapnel from the grenade,” Dunn said, “I’ll go check with them.” Caitir helped Penelope to her feet as the Bluehelms stepped out, and everyone else started to come out of their hiding places. Through the fight, Penelope’s breathing and heart rate had remained relatively constant as her training had kicked in, but now that it was over, the adrenaline hit her all at once, and her heart started pounding. “Can we get some water?” she asked Caitir, and gestured to everyone in the room. Caitir nodded, and went to fetch some glasses from the kitchen. Penelope looked into the DJ booth; the DJ was inspecting their equipment for damage. The ‘On Air’ sign had caught a bullet, and there were holes in the walls, but it didn’t seem like the booth had taken any other damage. “Got any other messages we can send to test the equipment?” the DJ asked. “It is your booth,” Penelope said. “Yeah but you’re the one who called for help,” they said, “You and your guys have defended this place since you got here. Who knows what would’ve happened to us if you hadn’t shown up.” Penelope shrugged, and moved to the DJ booth, and sorted through the papers she’d been scribbling on. She did, in fact, have a message to send out. The DJ ran through their checks, and nodded; everything was working so far. They went to the engineer station and started getting things ready on that end. The ‘On Air’ sign flickered and sparked; Penelope took that as a sign. “To the people of Ohrensen, this is Captain Penelope Trumbull of the Eden’s Guard. Three hours ago, the city of Boluo was attacked. Someone tried to kill my daughter and I with a car bomb, and they destroyed the Bouknight manor. But they failed to kill any of their targets. “These attackers unleashed squads of murderers onto the streets of Boluo. Hundreds were massacred in their homes and communities. But while a few neighborhoods have been terrorized, the city remains intact, and the people of Boluo are fighting back. And now, members of the Eden’s Guard and the Rabid Wolves are coming to break the attackers. Even in the city’s darkest hour, they have endured, and our enemies will falter. “Make no mistake, these are unfathomable actions, instigated by people who have nothing but contempt for you, your planet, or your traditions. Where we have come to build new communities and create a stronger world, they have sought to tear you asunder. But today, they have failed. They failed because Boluo pulled together, and they will heal by staying together. “It is essential that you, as citizens of Ohrensen, pull together, and stand against those that would leave you stripped of what you hold closest to your heart. These are the same people that plunged your world into a bloody war in the past, and have kept you from being a part of the change you deserve, to create better lives for yourselves. They have no history here except bloodshed and hate. “Since we came here, we have seen Ohrensen achieve extraordinary things in a short amount of time. But it’s only the beginning. So many have wondered if change is possible, if you, as a people, have the strength to make it happen. I’ve watched entire towns spring up overnight. I’ve seen textile workers defend their factory. I’ve fought alongside car mechanics against homicidal maniacs. Not only are you strong enough to whether the times that are to come, and the work that must be done, you are deserving of the life you want for yourselves, which is not gilded with gold, but built with those you love the most. “Stand with your neighbors. Provide for those who need your help. Shelter those who need it. When the time comes to take more extraordinary action, you will know the moment. If you have made each other strong, you will be ready for it. In times like these, that is the greatest heroism anyone can achieve. “And to Lars Hoover, who tried to kill my daughter? I’m hangin’ ye by yer oxters an’ tyin’ yer scrote to a footer dug ye numpty roaster.” Penelope flipped the switch to kill the microphone, and watched the booth. There was a pause, then a thumbs-up. Penelope let out a breath, and realized that everyone that wasn’t on guard duty was watching her in the booth. She grinned, and her audience gave her an applause. “’Hanging you by your oxters and tying your scrote to a footer dug you numpty roaster’,” Millicent repeated, stepping out of the small crowd. “You learn interesting threats on Northwind,” she insisted. “Remind me never to anger you, Captain,” Millicent said, and turned to Caitir, “Or any members of your family.” “I do apologize for insulting you, ma’am,” Penelope said. Millicent shook her head. “I think you’ve more than apologized, Captain, with your broadcast. But we must get out of here alive.” “Good news on that front,” Corporal Dunn called out from the entrance, “Reinforcements are here.” “Oh thank god,” Penelope sighed, and she pushed her way through the crowd to follow him out. Outside, the Bouknight drivers were facing down a squad of Battle Armor troopers. Penelope waved her arm to the gangsters and the Battle Armor troopers. Seeing Penelope, the drivers backed up and turned away, and the troopers marched to the station. Penelope kept close to the station, not wanting to stand in the open for fear of a sniper or something, as the Gray Death Armor troopers approached. “Captain Trumbull,” the Sergeant of the troopers stepped forward. “Staff Sergeant Gore, good to meet you in person.” “Seems we should have gotten here a couple minutes beforehand, sir,” he gestured to her arm. Penelope gave him a shrug, “I’m fine, I had my finest troopers and my sixteen-year-old daughter protecting me. Would you be so kind as to call Leftenant Bates and Sergeant Wiggins to escort us out of here? We’re all very tired.” “I’ve already called for an immediate evac, sir.” “Thank you, Staff Sergeant. Please coordinate with our friends over there to secure the perimeter in the meantime, they’ve been driving for hours.” “At once, sir.” With the situation in hand by the Rabid Wolves Battle Armor, Penelope returned to the radio station, and went to the body of the attacker with the knife. “Seth, have you confirmed that these are Hoover soldiers?” Penelope asked. He nodded. “We checked for tattoos, they’re Hoovers alright.” Penelope gestured to the corpse in front of her, “This one had different gear, though.” Seth looked down to confirm; this one had the equipment of a soldier, not a gangster, with a tactical vest over body armor, with prepared magazines in the pockets. It hadn’t been enough to protect them from the short-ranged shotgun blast, though, and the body armor still had a hole in the back. “You’re right, some of these are different.” Penelope knelt, and started to strip the corpse. Seth joined her, taking over. When the vest and armor had been taken off, the person underneath lacked Hoover tattoos. They weren’t inkless, but they didn’t have anything declaring their affiliation one way or another. “Anyone you recognize?” Penelope asked. “No,” he admitted. “Then either someone other than the Hoover Triad is trying to kill me, or this is some other hired goon.” “Another mercenary group? A third one?” “No,” Penelope said, “No, I think this is somewhat closer to Ohrensen than mercenaries.” Captain Penelope “Dime” Trumbull Commanding Officer, Eden’s Guard Security & Logistics Corporation Lance Leader, Apple Lance KIM-3C Komodo 6/12/3097 12:10 Resupply Base Echo Unincorporated Area Ohrensen System, Free World’s League “The damage seems superficial,” the Xi technician was saying. “We should have your lance back to 100% within the hour, no problem.” Garrick inclined his head in a slight bow. “Your efforts are appreciated. Thank you.” “Damn,” commented Zeyal as the technician moved off to rally her crew. “These Xi people really know how to crack down and get something done.” “They’re motivated,” replied Garrick. “This whole business with the Hoovers has really riled up the other Triads. They think of the heavy-handed aggression as crass, and yet at the same time the fact that the Hoovers can muster this kind of firepower makes them look weak.” The two sibkin fell into a side-by-side stride, headed for the corner of the hangar that had been cleared out as a makeshift rest space. “Doesn’t matter why they do it, what matters is that they can,” Zeyal said. “It kind of makes me hope… well.” It makes me hope that we end up on the same side of this, thought Garrick, finishing the unspoken sentiment. He could hardly fault Zeyal for feeling that way. The legality of their activities aside, he was finding the Xi focused and capable, overall a great pleasure to work with. “Well, well, well! Lieutenant Wulfe!” Mostly. Garrick steeled himself, turning with a fake smile on his face. “Hello, Cathan,” he said. “What brings you all the way out here?” Cathan’s cocky grin was as infuriating as ever. “Please, Wulfe. You didn’t think I’d let you take care of all the hunting for us? What sort of a Clanner would I be if I did that?” Out of the corner of his eye, Garrick saw Zeyal’s face twitch slightly. Silently willing his sibkin to remain silent, he said, “I suppose you’re right about that. What are you bringing to the battlefield, then?” Cathan nodded towards the base’s bay doors, prompting Garrick and Zeyal to turn towards them together. The massive doors had slid open and were currently admitting a heavy-duty hauling rig, bearing a Blade BattleMech as its cargo. “One of the few Mechs you’ll find on the planet that doesn’t belong to the Militia--or your company, of course,” Cathan said. “It’s light, but it moves fast and packs a good punch for its size--ideal for the occasional raid.” “Or running down quarry in the wilderness, I suppose.” “Lucky for me that that’s exactly what we’re here to do, isn’t it?” Cathan winked. “I was thinking I could tag along with your lance, sort of as your plus-one. Or as I like to think of it, a lance plus one Mech equals a star.” Another insufferable grin. “We’ll be a proper Clanner battle formation.” “It’ll be a pleasure to have you along,” Garrick lied. - - - “Are we going to talk about this?” Zeyal whispered to Garrick as they walked away. “I know it isn’t ideal. Having him in our battle group presents certain risks, yes, but I don’t think we can turn him down without--” Zeyal cut him off with a wave of her hand. “I don’t care about that part. We’ll figure it out. What I’m asking is, are we going to talk about the fact that there’s no possible way that bastard is from the Clans?” Garrick looked at her sharply. “We don’t know that.” That drew a snort from Zeyal. “Come on, Garrick. He uses all his words wrong. His understanding of our traditions is questionable at best. And he’s a complete twit.” “Well, if you remember the other Jade Falcons we’ve--” “I do remember the Jade Falcons,” Zeyal snapped. “I fought them at least as many times as you did. And while I can’t say I cared for them much… how can I say this… there’s a difference between being an asshole and being a twit. And that one,” she punctated this with an irritated glance over her shoulder, “is a twit.” “I don’t know,” sighed Garrick. “Maybe you’re right--” “Hey you!” came Cathan’s voice from behind them. The two snapped themselves around to face it. Cathan was looming over a technician who had parked himself next to a console with a small wrap in his hand. “What is that?” Cathan asked, indicating the wrap. “This?” asked the technician in a small voice. “This is my burrito, sir…” “What’s in it?” “...in it? Uh, rice, beans, some queso and salsa…” A wicked grin spread over Cathan’s face. “Trial of Possession.” “Trial of wha--AGH!” The technician yelped in pain as Cathan’s fist flicked out in a quick jab, connecting with his nose and sending him sprawling down to the floor. Cathan crouched by the technician and took the burrito from his hand as he writhed in pain. “I claim this burrito as my isorla,” he intoned gravely, and proceeded to take a large, messy bite out of it. Garrick and Zeyal stood gaping in disbelief at the scene before them. “Forget what I just said,” said Garrick. “You are definitely right about him.” 1st Lieutenant Garrick “Canis” Wolf Commanding Officer, Eden’s Guard Security & Logistics Corporation Lance Leader, Wolf Lance SHD-5D Shadow Hawk 6/12/3097 19:25 Unincorporated Area, Ohrensen Wilds Ohrensen System, Free Worlds League “Contact!” said Cathan over the comm. “I’ve got a mixed armor group--Bulldogs and Vedettes, by the look of it.” “Copy that, Gyre,” replied Garrick. “We’ll be there in a few moments. Hold your position.” Cathan cackled at that. “Neg, Canis. Try and keep up!” Garrick’s radar showed the self-proclaimed Clan warrior charging his Blade into the group of enemy contacts. Garrick pulled in a deep breath, and let it out in an aggravated sigh. He’d been putting up with this for nearly six hours. “I could shoot him, you know,” offered Thoko on a private channel. “Just one quick shot in the back should do it. He’d never know what hit him.” “As much as I can see the appeal of that, I’d really rather not cause a diplomatic incident with the Xi while we’re this deep into our op.” “We could always say that the enemy got him.” “I said no, Thoko.” “Fine,” she sighed, flipping off her comm. The lance pushed ahead in their default “diamond” formation--Zeyal in her Quickdraw taking the lead as the toughest and heaviest target, Garrick’s Shadow Hawk and Ken’s Bushwacker flanking her on either side to provide supporting fire, and Thoko’s Griffin bringing up the rear, where she could place long-range shots wherever they were most needed. Ahead, Cathan’s Blade was skirmishing with the tank group, and Garrick had to grudgingly admit that he was doing a solid job of it. While the tanks weren’t the most threatening opponent one could run into, there were a lot of them, and Cathan was maneuvering his Mech around their fire with competent grace, and punishing them in return. It honestly made Garrick hate the man a little bit more; he didn’t even have the good grace to be tripped up by his own hubris. “Don’t even think I’m going to let you steal my kills!” Zeyal snapped. “Zeyal, comms.” Garrick only got a battle cry in response. Well, it looked like he was going to have to have that conversation with Zeyal again. He reflected momentarily on the burdens of leadership as a burst from his autocannon blew apart a Bulldog that looked like it was thinking about flanking them. “This is a pretty big group for being so far from the city,” said Ken as he sprayed the enemy with pulse laser fire. “They must be protecting something pretty juicy.” “You think the Hoovers have a base out here?” asked Thoko. “Hiding out in the wilderness isn’t exactly their MO.” “It wasn’t,” replied Ken. “Then we poked them in the eye and they decided to try and get clever with us. With the resources they’ve got, some kind of simple pop-up base shouldn’t be that hard to arrange.” “It’s worth checking out,” said Garrick. “Gyre, if you could possibly pull yourself away from your killfest over there, I’d like you to run a sweep of the area, see if you can find anything interesting. We should be able to clean up here without much trouble.” Cathan made an exaggerated sulking noise over the comm. “You just want to spoil all my fun, don’t you, Canis?” A few sharp words rose in Garrick’s mind, but he pushed them aside. “Your Mech’s the fastest out of all of us here, and you handle it well,” he said, trying not to choke on the compliment. “I’m just trying to use your talents to maximum effect.” “Ha. Well, if you’re going to be so flattering about it,” said Cathan. He broke off and began moving towards the surrounding hills. “That was very diplomatic of you, Lead,” said Thoko, sounding impressed. “That’s why he’s the one in charge,” said Zeyal as she blew up another tank. - - - “Boom,” commented Ken as his target went up in flames. “These prefab bases are pretty flimsy.” “Yeah, well, as it turns out, heavy-duty fortifications are pretty hard to pick up and carry around,” said Thoko. “Kinda nice that we rooted them out before they had a chance to properly dig in, actually.” “My scope’s clear,” added Zeyal. “What do you think, Lead?” Garrick wasn’t sure what he thought. After the long, tense hours of search-and-destroy, just popping a few hastily constructed shelters seemed painfully anticlimactic. Logically, he knew that there wasn’t any reason he should expect more; as his lancemates had clearly pointed out, the base was a fairly rushed job on the part of the Hoovers. For some reason, though, his instincts were telling him that it had all been too easy. And he had long since learned to trust his instincts. “I want a visual sweep, everybody. Gyre, are you getting anything?” “Neg, Canis,” replied Cathan, sounding spectacularly bored. “Wait!” cried Thoko. “There’s something in the treeline, outbound and moving fast. Looks like some sort of light vehicle--heading fifteen degrees northwest!” “I see them,” said Garrick, swerving his Mech and turning his throttle up to maximum. “Looks like somebody’s trying to escape. I think they’re faster than us; Gyre, can you intercept?” “Watch me, Canis!” said Cathan. His Blade took off at a full sprint, moving diagonally to get in front of the vehicle. “Ah, a Swiftwind. Should be pretty easy to pop.” Laser fire lanced out from his Mech’s weapon arm, shearing away metal as it passed over the vehicle’s body. There was a pop and a burst of flame, and the vehicle rattled and spun out. “Good shot, Gyre!” “Heh. Thank you, but the job’s only half done.” Cathan took aim at the Swiftwind, which was rapidly slowing down as its inertia bled off in the rough terrain. Garrick’s blood ran cold. “Hold fire! I want whoever’s in there alive!” “Not how I do things, Canis.” Garrick’s hand twitched in a nearly reflexive action, and a beam lanced out from his Shadow Hawk, crossing the space between them and passing a scant few feet from the Blade’s cockpit. Cathan’s Mech stumbled backwards as its startled pilot yanked the throttle into reverse. “What the hell are you playing at, Wulfe?” “Listen here, you--” Garrick bit off a rather vehement Clan epithet that would have been at odds with his cover. “You might be the Xi’s top hitter, but right now, out here, you are under my command, and I am giving you an order. Now if you have a problem with that, I’d be more than happy to blow you out of your Mech here and now, and you can think about it on the walk home.” Cathan’s Mech turned; Garrick imagined him seething as he sized things up, with Garrick’s lancemates pointedly forming up behind their leader. Four on one was bad odds, even without the weight discrepancy. “Fine,” Cathan snapped after a moment. “Do what you like.” Without waiting for an order, he moved off to the edge of the perimeter. “Man, fuck that guy,” muttered Thoko. Garrick sighed. “Company protocol requires that I reprimand you for misuse of comms.” “Sorry, Lead.” “Consider yourself reprimanded. And, yes, fuck that guy.” Garrick flipped his comm channel. “Bastion, this is Canis. Hostile base has been pacified. We have prisoners, requesting backup for containment and transport…” 1st Lieutenant Garrick “Canis” Wolf Commanding Officer, Eden’s Guard Security & Logistics Corporation Lance Leader, Wolf Lance SHD-5D Shadow Hawk 6/21/3097 06:00 Dyrnwyn landing site Outside of Bargstedt Ohrensen System, Free World’s League With her alarm going off came the fuss and cry of Khalid and Rhona. Penelope rolled over in her bed, grumbling, and quickly realized she’d just rolled over onto her injured arm. It didn’t hurt anymore, but it was still fairly tender after the surgery, and she let out a surprised hiss of surprise when she did this. Reconciling to herself that she was, in fact, awake and going to have to start her day, Penelope rolled back over, and looked to the writhing babes who were still fussing and crying at the noise of the alarm. “Same,” Penelope agreed to them, and got up to turn off the shrieking alarm clock. Once up, she removed her shirt, picked up the twins, and sat in a chair next to their bed to let them breastfeed for a while. Randall slid out of bed immediately after, got dressed, and went through the ritual of preparing both his and her uniforms, grooming tools, and their morning dossiers to review, which Penelope read while the twins drank. A week after the attack on Boluo, the situation on Ohrensen had escalated. The Hoovers had made a number of strikes against the Eden’s Guard, the Boomtowns, and the work camps, kidnapping and opening fire on people and equipment. The Rabid Wolves had conducted a rescue of some captured workers, and Garrick had destroyed several tanks and ousted them from a forward military base. The dossier, written by Maggie last night, was talking about how, since the 14th, the Hoovers had stuck to a few terror attacks on Eden’s Guard targets. The training and arming of adequate police forces and emergency responders had been a boon, though, and many of these attempts had been thwarted, though a few shootings and a bombing had garnered some fear and bad press. Mostly, though, it galvanized communities to sniffing out Hoovers, and Hoover gangsters in the cities were now being harassed and targeted. The damage done to their operations would seem to be a failure of security and a liability to their efforts on Ohrensen, but the truth was that was exactly what they’d been established for. They hadn’t come to this planet to build roads, they’d come here to foster an invasion force and keep the planet profitable for their new Capellan overlords. A new road system would reinvigorate the planet and lead to investment in local infrastructure, but the biggest reason that she’d launched the plan in the first place was because it gave her enemies a target. By creating centers where Eden’s Guard troops and equipment could be found, Penelope’s enemies were attacking targets away from the planet’s essential and profitable infrastructure. It didn’t matter to the Capellans if a few roads were blown up, or if an air traffic control tower for a grass airfield was knocked over because, to the Capellans, those places didn’t matter. The spaceport, the factories, the office biildings, the harbors, and the laboratories in the major cities were the main, profitable centers that they were interested in, and by bringing the fighting outside of the city, they mitigated almost all of the risk of those locations being damaged or destroyed. It was for this reason that, despite her promises, Penelope had yet to destroy Hoover tower: It was a profitable center of business on the planet, and Penelope wasn’t sure if destroying it would constitute a breach of their contract with the Capellans. Technically, the public contract that was listed with the MRBC was exactly what she’d said it was. So, basically, aside from getting stabbed and chased through the city of Boluo, everything was going exactly according to plan. Today was a big day, though, in the next stage of the plan. Today was going to be the first meeting of the Ohrensen council, which would be held here at the Dyrnwyn. Security was going to be through the roof, with both Companies running security, and even a no-fly-zone for miles around. There wouldn’t be much ceremony aside from a signing; they were going to get straight to business hearing issues and proposals for improvements to the planet and who would be responsible for delivering. In the dossier, Maggie remarked that she was worried that no major strike had been conducted since the hostage situation in Shenzen. The Hoovers were an egotistical group, and prided themselves on being seen as having power. The fact that they’d gone this long with no statements or large-scale attacks made her paranoid, but the report went into detail why. Not only were the Hoovers being rejected at a local level, along with counter attacks by the Shoga and Bouknights triads, Mary Berkowitz’s organization had been activating embedded spies and operatives throughout the Hoover organization, territory, and assets. She was, it seemed, quite the spymaster, something that Capellan Intelligence hadn’t uncovered when they had done their research on Ohrensen. That said, Hoover’s own spies and traitors had caused their share of chaos in the ranks, too, as Triad lieutenants were forced to play their operations close to the chest after many gangs had been hired or defected to the Hoovers. The Bouknights had found the attempted car bomber; when interrogated, he had been under the impression his payment and orders had come from the Bouknights themselves. Most of the other Triad traitors were either given absurd amounts of money to defect or had a specific grievance with their respective Triad or leaders. Each Triad was now conducting an audit of their street-level operatives to flush out or heal disconcerted members. Maggie had already taken initiative in doing so in the boomtowns. The Marshals were becoming less and less of their own organization, and more and more like an actual planetary police force, and were using their improving reputation to find suspected spies or attackers. As the Marshals and their subsidiaries kept getting bigger and more efficient, the Boomtowns and work camps would be harder and harder to conduct terrorist-style strikes at. Chaos was an easy thing to sew, however. Penelope was not going to get comfortable with all this good news. Ohrensen would need constant vigilance and reminders of the worth of staying firm and united. The Bouknights were running constant stories in the media about the Hoovers being outsiders and villains. They would have to keep anticipating the Hoover Triad’s descent into a guerilla hate group, until they dispersed, fled, or were destroyed entirely. As the Hoovers spent too much money and were isolated from the rest of the planet, they would wither and die off. The dossier also listed a number of proposed initiatives, or reiteration of analysis and data that Penelope had already read, so Penelope tossed it onto the nightstand to pry the babies off her chest. After dressing and turning on the cam and microphone for the nanny, Penelope joined Randall in the mess hall for breakfast. Penelope looked at the plate before her, and scowled. “Something’s off.” “What?” “About breakfast.” Randall looked down at their plates, then to her. “I don’t follow.” “There’s something different.” He looked back down at their plates. “Uh…Eggs…Toast…Rice ball...Beans...Sardines…Some collard greens…” “Yeah, there’s definitely something off with breakfast.” “Uh…I hadn’t noticed.” She stabbed one of the sardines and stared into its eternal, terrified gaze. “This is fresh,” she declared. Randall poked at his plate. “…Huh. I think it is.” “We have fresh food in the cafeteria.” “Is that…A problem?” Penelope couldn’t answer because she’d already begun stuffing her face full of breakfast. “Don’t forget to breathe, dear,” Randall said, but was unheeded. With breakfast devoured, they went to work. With the meeting later today, Penelope was preparing and reviewing security measures and agenda items. Randall was meeting with engineers, machinists, and worker representatives to iron out details of what they could offer to help the Council resolve issues. Ostensibly, the factories and wokshops were run by the Shoga triad, but that extended as far as protection and collection of racketeering money rather than actually managing them. The whole point of the Council was not to determine who had the most power, but to prioritize and distribute work that needed to be done. How it was done was up to those who could offer solutions. If the factory workers and machinists of Ohrensen could offer solutions, they needed to able to make that decision on their own. If some group or operation was essential, they needed to be left alone to do that job without anything interrupting their work. The Council was a means of delegating work, not forcing it. For Penelope, most of the groups invited to participate in the Council arrived throughout the day, and those who had something to bring before the Council. Each of them demanded specific or separate accommodations, putting them at risk of spreading security resources too thin. The Xi and Bouknights, who had arrived days before, brought their own security, meaning all they had to do was coordinate and set standards. For newly-created labor groups or municipal leadership, these had to be provided, and they didn’t appreciate being shoved into tents or crammed into their bunker trailer. For most, the solution had been to provide them with lodgings in the city, or find some entrepreneur to provide it, and security monitoring was provided by the Marshals and the Mercenaries. However, this meant they had to keep monitoring and response teams on hand, in case someone made an attempt on them. It was frustrating and expensive, but until the Council established itself permanently, this was how it would have to be for now. Mostly, it all involved juggling schedules and timing for arrivals. Exciting work for a group of people with long, successful military backgrounds. “Captain,” Maggie pressed a communique into Penelope’s hand, “Director Loew is on his way now. He should be here in less than an hour for the Council meeting.” “Thank you, Leftenant.” Penelope switched on a television and set it to mute; the news was already reporting about the Council meeting as part of their 24-hour new cycle. The Bouknights had been blanketing the airwaves with positive coverage for the efforts and reforms since the attack on Boluo. There was a news crew by the mansion, catching some footage of the Shoga Triad security swarming about to escort the Director. They were surely going to get some good B-Roll from it all, Penelope thought. All ceremonious but tough looking. Penelope couldn’t help but think that they shouldn’t glorify the Director too much. Penelope looked back to the schedules and proposed landing sites, and started to prepare to make a call to talk about what squads should be sent where when the Director arrived, when someone tugged on her uniform. “Just a second.” “Captain.” “I said just a second!” “Captain, TV.” She glanced up to scold the soldier, when the TV caught her eye. The camera was on the Shoga compound, where the security was rushing inside. A pillar of smoke billowed from behind the walls. The headline changed from ‘DIRECTOR TO ATTEND PLANETARY COUNCIL’ to ‘EXPLOSION ON DIRECTOR’S ESTATE’. “We’ve got people on location,” Penelope said to Maggie, who nodded, and started making calls. The news crew rushed to the entrance of the estate, trying to get a view in on what had just occurred. The camera saw the burning VTOL on the helipad for a brief moment, until a Shoga gangster ushered them away. Penelope picked up a com. “Dime to Chops.” “Chops.” “Director Shoga has been attacked. Deploy immediately to the Director’s Estate. He and his family are high-priority VIPs, to be recovered and brought here.” “Yes, sir.” Penelope changed channels on her com, and sent a message to Captain Whitley. “This is Captain Trumbull to Captain Whitley. We’ve got an emergency at the Director’s Mansion, there’s been an attack. We don’t know if he’s safe or not; We need to coordinate in person. We may need to start deploying.” With the Captain informed, Penelope looked to Maggie, “Looks like you were right about the Hoover ego not being stroked enough.” “What are your orders, ma’am?” Penelope considered for a moment. They still didn’t know if the Director was alive or dead. But they also didn’t know what the Hoovers were up to next. “I want everyone ready to move. Hit the Yellow Alert. If the Director's dead, we deploy in full.” Captain Penelope “Dime” Trumbull Commanding Officer, Eden’s Guard Security & Logistics Corporation Lance Leader, Apple Lance KIM-3C Komodo