Forging Freyja - Solaris Flashback

The Glass Tower, Cathay
Solaris City
Solaris VII
Federated Commonwealth
14 May, 3052





     Faith felt the prick of the needle in her arm and gently pressed down on the plunger. Seconds later, she felt the warmth of the synthetic opiate rushing through her body. She leaned back, opened her eyes, and exhaled. The evening's fight was over, and the rush of combat had ended. It had been a closer victory than she liked, but it was a victory all the same. The purse hadn't been huge, but money wasn't the reason she fought anymore. She fought because she liked it. She fought for the thrill. And she fought for the rush.

     A knock at the door to her suite interrupted her reverie. "Fuck. Go away." she whispered. Her suite in the Glass Tower was pretty secure, she knew she didn't really have to worry about intruders or fans harassing her, security and the local crime lords both took care of that. And the police wouldn't be up here, especially at this time of night and especially without her being tipped off beforehand.

     The knock repeated itself, and she sat up. She set the empty syringe down on the table, unwrapped the elastic tourniquet from her arm and tossed it on the table as well, then slowly stood and made her way to the door.

     She opened the door to find Catherine Black, her opponent from the evenings earlier fight, standing there. Black cut a striking figure, clad all in black, with her raven hair pulled back into a ponytail, and her smoke grey eyes seeming to take in everything without any movement.

     "Didn't expect to see you turn up on my doorstep. If you wanted to see me, you shouldn't have skipped the post-fight presser. But I guess if you were willing to take the money hit on that, you really don't care much anyhow."

     Cat's expression didn't change. "Can I come in? I thought we might talk?" She spoke with a cultured, almost haughty accent that Faith couldn't quite pin down.

     "Sure, why not. I don't have anything else going on." she left the door open and shrugged Cat an invitation to enter.

     The other woman walked through the door, and at Faith's gesture, removed her long black coat and hung it on the rack beside the door. As she did so, Faith let her eyes gaze her over subtly. She wore heavy black boots, and black synthleather pants that clung to her, displaying her obviously toned curves. Her black tee shirt suited her just as well, hugging her slim figure and accentuating her firm chest in a way that was subtle, yet alluring. It contrasted sharply with her relatively pale but flawless white skin, completing a package that was sensual and downright sexy, in spite of the obvious vibe of danger that she gave off. Or perhaps because of it.

     Easy Faith. That girl was shooting at you a few hours ago. Faith led her into the main room and gestured towards a chair, while she turned to the island that separated the kitchen off, and which had an assortment of liquor bottles along it. "Something to drink?" she asked.

     "Whatever you are having, thank you."

     Faith poured two glasses of a cheap Davion whiskey that she kept around in abundance for times when she just felt like getting drunk. This wasn't one of those times, but she could still feel the opium buzz in her head, and there was no need to waste the good liquor when she already had a decent buzz going. She placed a glass on the table in front of Cat, then sat back in her own chair and took a sip of her own drink.

     Cat glanced down at the syringe, tourniquet, and small vial of liquid that still lay out on the table. "Drugs will dull a warrior's edge," she said softly as she took a sip of her own drink.

     Faith smirked. "This warrior's edge was fine enough to kick your ass earlier today just so you remember. And if you're thinking of reporting me to the gaming board, go ahead, but you needn't bother, I'll piss clean, I promise."

     Cat shook her head. "That was not my implication. And I assure you, I am well aware of having lost earlier. It does not happen often. That is actually why I am here."

     Faith slammed back a swig of the whiskey. "If you want a rematch, go through your stable. I'm not one to book my own fights."

     "That would prove rather difficult. My stable voided my contract after the fight," she said in a very matter of fact way.

     Faith scoffed. "That seems a bit harsh. They couldn't do that....unless...."

     Cat nodded. "I was terminated for 'reckless misuse of stable property' in their words."

     Faith shook her head disapprovingly. "You had a tap out clause. That makes the way you hung on after you were beaten even dumber. I offered you the chance. Twice."

     Cat waived her hand dismissively. "I was not aware of the clause before they brought it to my attention. But I would not have submitted, regardless. That is no way to fight."

     "It was your first loss, I know. You were 8-0 going into that fight. I did my homework, trust me."

     Cat sat forward slightly. "I studied you as well. I should not have lost. Yet somehow, I did."

     Faith emptied her glass before she responded. "You're a damn good shot. You fight cautiously, using your accuracy to your advantage. Then when your opponent is weakened just enough, you pounce."

     The other woman's smokey eyes narrowed. "And you normally fight aggressively. Your fighting style matches your persona. But you fought differently this time. Even with that, however, I should have beaten you. Especially when your one autocannon jammed."

     Faith let a smile creep into the corners of her mouth. "Except my left Ultra-5 never jammed."

     Cat sat back and paused for a moment. "But I saw it. You only used your right gun. I saw the left one spinning with an ammo feed problem."

     Faith let her grin grow. "The only ammo feed problem it had was it was trying to feed from an empty bin. I left that bin empty, and had two tons more armor bolted on. The pounding you gave me would probably have dropped me if I was running my standard loadout. But I saw you liked to play the long game. I just played a longer game, sister."

     Cat glanced down and let out a sigh. "Subterfuge is something I will have to hone, I suppose."

     Faith nodded. "Beats honesty every time. So is that why you came here, to find out how you lost?"

     The dark haired woman took a small pouch from her hip and tossed it on the table. When Faith gave her a puzzled look, she sat back. "Those are my vineers. I keep my past a closed book, as you probably know. There is all manner of speculation, but I neither confirm or deny. There is little point. Until now, here with you. Black is simply a nom de guerre. My only given name is Catherine, I was born a warrior of Clan Nova Cat."

     "You're a long way from home, sister. The tabloids would have a field day with that one, if you're telling the truth. Doesn't really matter to me though. Why are you telling me this, am I supposed to take you prisoner or something since I beat you in combat?"

     Cat shook her head. "I am no longer truly clan. And even if I were, you would have had to claim the right of making me your bondsman at the time of my defeat. But I am here to pledge to fight at your side, in a way. It is a part of one of my visions that I did not fully understand until tonight."

     Faith stood and poured herself another whiskey. "Yeah, I've heard you Nova Cats are into smoking peyote and playing with voodoo dolls and stuff like that." She returned to her seat and took another sip. "I don't see what that has to do with anything. Hell, I don't even believe in that kind of stuff."

     Cat stared off into the distance for a moment. "I am here on the game world because of a vision. I was raised to put great stock in them." She paused for a moment and studied the remains of the amber liquid in her own glass. "My star was sent on a supply raid into the Draconis Combine. We struck quickly, took what we wanted, and departed. Shortly after we lifted off, there was an explosion on our dropship. I have no idea if it was an accident, or if some bandit managed to slip aboard our ship and sabotage it. Either way, we crashed on the surface. Only three of us survived the crash, and they died in the wilderness shortly after. I managed to make my way to civilization, and managed to stow away aboard a cargo vessel. When we linked with the jumpship, I slipped aboard and commandeered it, thinking to jump back into Nova Cat territory. The pilot somehow managed to double-cross me, and jumped to a Combine system, and I was taken prisoner."

     Faith tipped her glass to Cat. "Sounds like you have shitty luck, sister."

     Cat nodded. "What you would ascribe to luck, I ascribed to destiny. I managed to escape, but my faith in my path was shaken. As I eluded my pursuers in a dense forrest, I undertook my own version of the Rite of the Vision. What I saw convinced me that my life as a Nova Cat was over. For good or ill, my path lay elsewhere."

     "Pardon my disbelief, but all this brings you to my door how?"

     Cat thought for a moment before responding. "A vision is deeply personal. We do not share the vision itself with others, not entirely, except with the Oathmaster. But I saw myself vanquished and then raised again by a golden knight in a great Colosseum. There is more to it, much more, but suffice it to say that I am convinced that my path lies alongside yours, at least for a time."

     Faith stood. "Well sorry, sister, but visions and bonfires aren't my thing. And besides, I fight alone. This girl is a clan of one."

     Cat rose from her seat as well. "You will need me in the future. I promise. I have seen it."

     Faith took a step closer, her temper rising slightly, helped no doubt by the alcohol fueled fire she could feel swelling inside her. "Fine, leave your business card. If I need you, I'll give you a call. Until then, take your voodoo dolls and lick your wounds from the ass kicking I gave you."

     Cat shook her head, stepping closer to Faith. "Your flippancy is so.....frustrating. How am I supposed to get through to you?"

     Faith raised her voice to match the other woman's ire. "Maybe you're not. So how about you just go."

     Cat looked up at the ceiling and left out an angered sigh of frustration. Then she lowered her gaze to lock eyes with Faith, as if weighing something in her mind. The two stared at each other for a few seconds, which seemed like an eternity as the fires behind each of their eyes burned. Then suddenly, before Faith could react, Cat took her face in her hands and locked her in a passion filled kiss.

     At first, Faith started to pull away, but she stopped herself, soaking in the kiss as if fire were exploding between the two warriors as they collided. If it was possible to pour anger into a kiss, it was happening. Faith let her hands fall to Cat's waist and gripped firmly.

     Cat was a few inches taller, and definitely more muscular than Faith, and used her dominant pose to walk Faith backwards until she was pressed against the wall. Only then did their lips part, and each of the women hungrily took in air.

     "If you wanted to fuck me, you didn't have to bother with your whole life story, you could have just asked." Faith chuckled.

     "Damn your stubbornness, Faith McCarron," Cat quickly unbuttoned Faith's shirt and planted hungry kisses over her shoulders and chest. Faith wrapped her legs around Cat's waist as she let the other woman's desire flow over her.

     She dug her fingers deeply into Cat's jet black hair. "Bedroom is that way."

     The sex was aggressive, not quite combative. Cat used her superior size and strength to retain dominance throughout most of the session, but Faith held her own, breaking free several times to seize the initiative and dig her fingers into the flesh and well toned muscle of her partner.

     While Faith was vocal, Cat at first was almost silent. Then, as Faith broke free of her grip on one occasion, she managed to take one of Cat's ample, firm breasts in her mouth, running her tongue over the other woman's nipple and eliciting a moan of pleasure.

     Faith's dominance was short lived, as Cat quickly turned the tables and flipped Faith onto her back. Gripping her with one arm, and entering her with one, then two fingers, the two warriors bodies slid against each other rhythmically as Cat slowly brought Faith to a thundering climax. Faith let out a scream, not caring what other occupants of the building might hear.

     The night went on for hours, the two women who mere hours before had been trading deadly blows in combat now taking turns bringing each other up to and over the precipice of pleasure. Finally exhausted, they settled into a tangle of limbs while they caught their breath and let their pulses steady out to a relaxed rate.

     "So that was your plan?" Faith quipped with a smile.

     "What?" Cat gazed at her with eyes only partially recovered from the depths of pleasure.

     "That was your plan, tell me your life story, and when I didn't buy into your fireside fairy tale, you'd fuck me into submission?" she said wryly.

     Cat propped herself up on her elbows and allowed herself a slight smile. "I did not plan on the fucking part, as you so eloquently put it. But I am drawn to you. I do not expect that you would understand without having had my vision."

     Faith rolled onto her side. "You keep talking about these visions as if they're some kind of magic. I don't believe in that kind of shit. There's no such thing as divining the future. We make our future. Or we die trying."

     Cat shook her head. "It is not about knowing a future set in stone. It is about seeing a path so that you can embrace it fully, realize it's potential. I grew up with one path set down for me. To become a warrior and help fulfill Kerensky's vision for the future. We all saw Operation Revival as our part in that future. But now things have fractured. Nothing is as clear as it was when I was a child. And so now we have to find our paths again."

     Faith raised an eyebrow. "And now you think your path is fighting alongside me. I don't get it."

     "Not as such. But when you defeated me, things came into focus, my vision suddenly had clarity. You go on to build great things, Faith McCarron. Things greater than yourself. But you are the start, and my heart tells me I must be by your side."

     Faith slid closer to Catherine and began gently tracing her fingers over Cat's skin. "Maybe it's the orgasm talking, or maybe it's just my vanity, but let's say I buy into this a little bit. What's that mean?"

     Cat pulled her in closer and they settled into a resting position, their bodies pressed together, their limbs intertwined. "Just that we remain in each other's orbit, and let fate forge the rest."

Forging Freyja - Chapter 10.4

Lummatii
Lothian League
Marian Hegemony
The Periphery
4 January, 3150




     "She never  told me about this fight," Freyja said as her eyes remained glued to the holoimage. The two combatants marched into the arena on opposite sides. Faith piloted a heavily modified Catapult K2, while Catherine piloted a 5SS Thunderbolt. The announcer was trying to play up the drama, but Freyja barely heard him as she processed the reality of what she was watching. This was a fight, almost a hundred years previous between the woman that had trained her in mech combat, and the woman who had started the very line of warriors from which Freyja descended.

     It didn't take long for the two combatants to come into medium range for combat. The fight was in one of Solaris' smaller arenas, adjunct to the main circuit, and offered a terrain of rolling hills and some scattered trees, but no real hard impediments or barriers. They traded full alpha strikes at first, Faith's medium lasers carving gorges in the Thunderbolt's armor, and one ultra autocannon sending a stream of shells tearing into the freshly heated plate. Cat's response struck Faith's Catapult square in the center torso, while rapid twisting helped spread the damage from the medium lasers and short range missiles across the mechs broad armor.

     Uh oh, something is wrong, mech fans, it appears that one of McCarron's Ultra ACs jammed on it's first firing. That will put her down a great deal in firepower, and she will have to be extra cautious with her remaining gun.

     The two mechs circled each other in a deadly dance, trading lances of energy, PPC bolts, and cannon rounds, all the while dodging expertly to keep incoming fire aimed at the freshest armor available. It was a toe to toe slugging match, and the fans were loving it. Freyja's pulse quickened as she forgot her knowledge that both combatants would survive the fight.

     This is an unusual fight, mech fans. Cat Black is fighting with her usual combination of patience and a deadly precise shot. But Faith is usually more of an aggressor, charging into the thick of the fight. But we don't see that here. She's playing a trading game, and she's trading with one autocannon behind her back. I don't see this going well for the blonde bombshell.

     The fight was going just as the announcer had described. The two were trading almost evenly. She recognized Catherine's fighting style as that of her mentor, fighting like a cat, standing off delivering blows judiciously, waiting for the right time before pouncing in for the kill. But that moment never came. They traded back and forth, but Faith's mech accepted the punishment far longer than it seemingly should have. All the while, she kept striking back evenly. They each waited for the other to falter, and after what seemed like ages, Cat faltered first.

     A long string of shells pounded into her mech's torso and into the shoulder, gobbling up the myomer and structural links that braced the arm containing her PPC. The Thunderbolt's arm hung limp. Tasting blood, Faith took that moment to double pull on her remaining Ultra Autocannon, sending twice the normal load of destruction pouring into her opponent's torso assembly. The mech's gyro spun apart in a dance of metal death and the mech collapsed to the ground, bracing it's fall with the now useless PPC carrying arm.

     And that would seem to be it folks, a gyro hit has Cat Black down for the count. But wait, what's this? It seems that she's trying to defy the odds and prop her mech up into a firing position. The stable techs and the people with the purses might not be too happy about this decision to fight on seemingly in vain, but the crowd loves it!

     Tap out, Cat, this one is over. Freyja heard Faith's voice strained and with the grainy quality of combat transmission. Against all odds, Catherine managed to prop her mech upright, and fired off her torso mounted lasers. Two missed wildly, and the third did little more than carve a scar in the foot of her mech. Faith's response was swift, sending four green lances of energy charging into the bracing arm, severing the limb and sending the T-bolt onto it's face. With that, the fight was over, and Freyja tuned out the postgame analysis as she turned to face Gunnar.

     "That was amazing. Thank you. But you didn't have to go to all this trouble."

     He pulled her closer. "Yes, I did. We're going to get one shot fighting that pirate when he comes for our goods. We'll be fighting side by side, and you've had a rough time of things this last year from the sound of it. You needed reminding of where you come from, and who you are. I'm not going into battle with a slave at my side, I'm going in with a Valkyrie, from a long line of Valkyries."

     She took his face in her hands and kissed him. "Thank you." Those were the last two words they spoke aloud for the rest of the night as they let their fears wash away in passion.

Forging Freyja - Chapter 10.3

Lummatii
Lothian League
Marian Hegemony
The Periphery
4 January, 3150


     The hovercar pulled up to the front steps of the Logan mansion. Freyja tipped the driver and climbed out into the chill air. She paused for a moment, taking in the sight of the almost palatial structure. It was an impressive structure, more on classical Terran lines than the Romanesque style favored by the Marians. Of course, it was no Castle McCarron either.

     She climbed the steps and worked the large bronze knocker that adorned the door. The entrance swung open almost immediately, and a servant greeted her.

     "Freyja McCarron. Count Logan extended an invitation for dinner to me, so I believe I am expected?"

     The butler smiled. "Of course, Lady McCarron. His lordship will be here to greet you shortly. Allow me to take your coat?"

     She handed the butler her parka, not needing it in the warm confines of the mansion. She wore knee-high boots and black leggings, paired with a light blue sweater that almost matched her eyes. She wore her hair down, and had let Clarissa and Madeline style it for her, in spite of the fact that they battered her with questions about Gunnar Logan.

     Count Logan appeared almost immediately, dressed impeccably in a pair of slate gray slacks and a cream colored sweater that hugged his form perfectly without appearing too showy.

     "Freyja, I'm glad you decided to take me up on my invitation. I was worried that you were going to stand me up," he said with a warm smile. She wasn't even sure why she was here. Their one night fling seemed to have been ages ago, and so much had transpired since then. Not to mention, she was hardly the girl he had thought she was when they had last shared a bed.

     She smiled sheepishly. "I was rather surprised that you invited me, after everything that's gone on."

     He shook his head. "You needn't worry about that. I'm not holding a grudge. What's past is past. We have a lot ahead of us, and besides, you're still the strikingly beautiful girl who caught my eye."

     She shrugged slightly. "But I'm not the girl I pretended to be. And now we are what we are, you're a noble, and I'm....far from it."

     He smiled coyly. "Yes, well, about that. If you'd allow me, I've got something to show you that I think you'll enjoy. And it also might put your mind at ease a bit about the gap between our social stations." He offered her his arm, and she took it.

     His touch was still electric. Even now, just holding him by the arm, she thought about their night together, and the elation of being wrapped in his arms. "So what is this that you're going to show me?"

     He patted her arm as they walked. "You'll see. You remember that I said I was something of a connoisseur of history, military and what not? Well money has it's privileges, and I've built up quite the library over the years."

     He led her into a room that was lined on three sides with books, discs, and data tapes. It was a library in the classical sense of what you would expect to find in a mansion on ancient Terra. The fourth wall housed a giant holodisplay, which currently showed a rotating image of Lummatii. Set up perfectly to view it from was a large, plush sofa that would easily seat two or three people.

     He led her over to it and gestured for her to sit. She complied, and he followed, picking up a remote control as he leaned back. She could see the eagerness in his face.

     "So, you also remember that I mentioned to you that I thought you looked somewhat familiar? Well, once I knew who you really were, it let me do a little digging. It's not like the old days where we could link up via HPG and get virtually anything, but I combed through my library until I found something that explained my feeling."

     He pressed a button, and the display image changed. A logo for Solaris Broadcasting Company flashed on the screen. Freyja's mind raced. What had he found?

     The image dissolved into a video of an arena, with people bustling in and out, brilliant lights everywhere, and a large city skyline in the background. Music played in the background, and text flashed onto the screen declaring that it was fight night in Solaris City. An announcers voice broke in.

     Hello 'mech fans! This is Keith Callum with your call for the night, and it's fight night in Solaris City! That's right, we've got some amazing mech combat action for you coming up in just a few minutes. This one is gonna be good, I promise you, we've got two femme fatales stepping into the arena tonight, so get ready for a cat fight!

     The image shifted to video of a tunnel where one of the mechwarriors was entering the arena, with the text "recorded earlier" flashing across the bottom. Freyja's jaw hung open. The warrior striding through the tunnel was her doppelganger. The blonde mechwarrior looked a little older, and was slightly bigger than Freyja, but there was no mistaking the resemblance. She wore baggy cargo pants and a tank top with a stylized number 4 on it, and as she approached the camera, she took off her large aviator style sunglasses.

     The name "Faith McCarron" splashed across the screen as she spoke. "Yeah, I know my opponent doesn't say much, but that's fine. I talk enough for the both of us. And I'll wipe the floor with her. Everyone is scared 'cause she's new. Well sweetheart, I hope you enjoyed your first eight victories, because bout number nine is going in the "L" column for you."

     Freyja turned to Gunnar Logan, her expression still one of surprise. "Oh my god, how did you find that? That's my great-great grandmother, Faith. She was the first in our line of the family to become a mechwarrior. She built the castle I grew up in back on Altorra."

     Gunnar nodded. "And you're the spitting image of her. I've watched this fight before, so that's why you looked familiar."

     Freyja stared at Gunnar and shrugged. "Well, does she win?"

     He laughed. "You honestly want me to spoil it? This fight took place ninety-eight years ago, Freyja. And that woman's blood is flowing through your veins. Watch and find out."

     She turned back to the screen and snuggled into Gunnar's embrace as he put an arm around her. Together, the two of them watched as the video continued.

     And her opponent tonight comes to us undefeated, and something of a mystery. We don't know much about Catherine Black. She keeps her origins a secret, and a deadly one at that. She has faced eight opponents in her short career, and cut them all down with cold efficiency. 

     The feed switched to that of Faith's opponent entering the arena. She was a tall, fit woman, clad entirely in black, from her heavy black combat boots, black synthleather pants, and long black coat to her jet black hair, she walked with a fierceness and purpose of a warrior on a mission. It was hard to believe, but Freyja recognized this woman as well.

     "Oh my god, that's Aunt Cat!"

     Gunner gave her a confused look.

     "That woman, I grew up knowing her as Aunt Cat. She was my great-great grandmother's closest friend, she was a former Nova Cat warrior. She's been with our family for almost a century. She's the woman who taught me how to fight in a mech. She's still alive, or was when I left home."

     Who will triumph tonight, the cold, calculating Catherine Black, or the feisty firebrand Faith McCarron?

Forging Freyja - Chapter 10.2

Lummatii
Lothian League
Marian Hegemony
The Periphery
3 January, 3150




     A week had passed, and Ned Bakker had managed to organize a gathering of all of the significant landowners. Eventually it had boiled down to basically putting out a call for everyone that had been on the hook with Bart Carter and the local pirate gang to show up to discuss options. Unfortunately, that had meant that a lot of people had gathered together with a very little planning or coordination.

     The meeting, such as it was, had formed up at what might best be described as a festival grounds. Located in the planetary capital, there was a large recreational area set aside that held festivals, concerts, and the like. There was a circular raised dais type stage at the center, and the attendees for the meeting had gathered in groups radiating out from the center. What struck Freyja on their arrival was the vast and varied scope of the people gathered. Some were just like the Bakkers. But there were farmers, industrialists, factory owners, town mayors, a complete assortment of the population

     The meeting had descended quickly into a kind of chaotic grandstanding, with different people each pushing their own agenda or solution, which usually amounted to trying to shift the burden of payment off of one group and onto another. Ned had registered himself to speak to the group, but after long discussion and coercion, he had persuaded Freyja to be the spokesperson for their interests.

     She climbed the stairs to the platform and looked out over the crowd. Many looked at her with confused expressions, with no idea who she was. She was dressed as if she were having a day at work, baggy cargo pants and a tank top, with her hair pulled back into a simple ponytail. She cast an altogether dismissable look. She felt her pulse pounding in her head, and tried in vain to force herself to be calm and overcome her anxiety. Finally, she spoke up, trying to force an air of authority into her voice as she spoke.

     "Most of you don't know me. My name is Freyja McCarron. I'm a Mechwarrior in service to Edward Bakker. I've been listening to all the discussions, and what I would say to you is this. You are all going about this the wrong way. You are trying to find a way to pay off Raiden Trogg. That is the wrong option. What we have to do is stand up to him."

     There was a general murmur from the crowd, then one man spoke up over the rest. "If we openly thumb our noses at his protection offers, he'll just take what he wants. We don't have the force to stand up to him. All that fighting him does is turn our lands into a battlefield."

     "Then we make the force. We find a way. The man is a monster and a bully who is going to keep on bullying."

     Another man spoke up from behind her, and she turned to listen to him. "You don't just manufacture a force to fight a man that's probably worked for years to build up the group he has."

     She shook her head. "Yes you do, you scrape it together to protect what it's taken you lifetimes to build. Look, among all of you we have to be able to patch together a handful of Mechs. And it's easy enough to strap some weapons and armor on AgroMechs and Industrial Mechs. And there's vehicles we can re-purpose. It will take some doing, yes, but surely we can gather up the resources for one fight with Trogg and his band of looters and thieves. That's all it takes. One fight where we take him out and bloody his organization. One fight to let them know that we won't just give up and give over."

     Another man stood and voiced his thoughts. "That's a lot of talk, but you're just a servant, a slave. What have you got to lose? It's a fair bit tougher for those of us with real lives to put on the line."

     Freyja turned angrily towards the speaker "You have absolutely no idea what I've put on the line already. It must be nice to cower there in safety, looking to just pay off the bad guy to go away. Not all of us can. And we shouldn't have to. Just because you're too frightened to lose some money or some land doesn't mean we all have to roll over and take it."

     She started getting jeers from the crowd. She hadn't persuaded them, she'd lost them. There was no way she was going to be able to rally any kind of opposition to Raiden Trogg when he returned to collect his ransom. She could try to stop him, but she would fail, just like she had before. Her shoulders sank with the knowledge of defeat. Then a different voice spoke up from behind her and she froze.

     "She's right. You might be able to buy them off for a while. I might be able to buy him off a bit longer. But this guy is a piece of work. He's not going to be satisfied, and he's going to ruin us all in the end. There isn't much choice but to fight.

     As she turned, Gunnar Logan climbed the steps to the dais. She dared not look him in the eye. He must have recognized her. What could she do? She stayed silent and let him continue on.

     "We do have the means to stop him, I'm sure of that. I can't speak for any of you, but I am pledging my Mech to the fight to stand up to this pirate. We cannot just roll over, that's not how we do things out here. Out here we stand up for each other, and we don't let people take what's ours. That's what this brigand means to do, take it from us slowly so we die a drawn out, uneventful death. That's not how any of our forbearers looked at things, and if we want to keep our way of life, it can't be how we do either. So I'm going to stand up, with her and anyone else that has the courage to fight."

     Throughout his speech, the crowd swiftly came to life, and by the time he was finished, the crowd was raucous with a fire against the pirates. He rallied them on several times, and by the end of it, there were probably a few in the crowd calling to take the fight to the pirates. Through it all, Freyja stood silent, partly mesmerized by his speaking, but mostly out of fear. After he had finished, the crowd began to disburse, and he walked over to where she stood on the dais.

     Finally she lifted her gaze to meet his. "Thank you. They were never going to follow me. You tipped the balance. " She paused and looked down at her feet, then closed her eyes before facing him again. "And I suppose I owe you an apology."

     He looked to the side in thought for a moment. "They were afraid. They wanted to fight, but they needed a reason to get past their fears. I watched my father fire up enough crowds in his day that i knew the right buttons to push, that's all. As for the apology, what are you going to apologize for? It's a terrible tragedy when a beautiful woman tells a few lies to get into a man's bed. What I would settle for though is an explanation. Who are you really?"

     She relaxed slightly. "My name is Freyja McCarron. Legally, I'm the property of Ned Bakker. I'm originally from the Capellan Confederation. I came out here to try to find my own way in life, free from the safety of my upbringing. And as you can tell, that's gone over quite well."

     Ned snickered. "And you ended up at the ball how?"

     She shrugged. "I had the opportunity, I thought it would be a chance to escape for an evening, back to how things used to be. A sort of last hurrah for my old life. I never planned on meeting anybody there or crafting any web of lies, it just all sort of happened."

     Ned laughed gently.

     "What?" she asked.

     "You. A gorgeous woman, went to the event of the year, dressed in a gown that made you look absolutely delectable, and you didn't think you'd meet anybody there? I'm starting to see how you ended up falling off the wagon into the periphery here."

     She blushed. "I'm sorry."

     "Don't be sorry. It takes radical events sometimes to change lives. I suppose you qualify. " He took her hand. "I think your people are looking for you. I should be going as well, starting to set things in motion for this coming fight of ours. Are you staying here in the capital long?"

     "I'm afraid I have no idea. This whole thing is touch and go."

     He squeezed her hand before letting go. "Come see me tomorrow evening for dinner? I'm relatively easy to find.

     She smiled in a subtly playful way. "No promises. But I'll try."

Forging Freyja - Chapter 10.1

Lummatii
Lothian League
Marian Hegemony
The Periphery
27 December, 3149




     Freyja stumbled from the guest suite, wrapped only in the fur blanket she had awoken in. She wandered through the halls until she came upon the Bakkers, sitting in the large family room that they used for everyday functions. As they spotted her, each shot to their feet, but only Clarissa ran quickly to her side.

     "Dear God, child, are you alright?" she put an arm around Freyja in an almost motherly way.

     Freyja nodded. "I hurt. Drugs are wearing off. Is he gone?"

     "Yes dear, he's gone. You're safe. Here, sit down, you shouldn't be up."

     Clarissa led her to a soft sofa and sat down beside her. She could feel her pulse throbbing in her head like a drum as the family all sat around her, unsure of what to say or do. For what seemed like an eternity, no one said anything. Finally it was Ned Bakker who broke the silence.

     "Freyja, If I had known what--"

     She cut him off with a glance. "Please, not now. I don't need to hear what you would have done. I don't need to hear how sorry you are. I don't need to hear that it will be okay," she paused for a few seconds. "It's done."

     There was a lengthy pause before Ned spoke again. "What do you need from us? What can we do?"

    "I'm going to kill him. He's coming back, and he has to be stopped. And I'm going to kill him." She closed her eyes for a moment. She thought of the long line of warriors who had come before her in her family. What would they do? How would they react? They wouldn't have let it happen in the first place. They were strong. You weren't strong enough. You have to get there. "We have to organize. His extortion rates have to be too much for everyone. We have to figure out some way to organize opposition to him. Is there any chance the planetary government will help?"

     Ned thought for a moment before he spoke. "You're forgetting, this isn't some grand unified planetary government like in the Inner Sphere. Ever since the 'freedom' that the Lothian worlds won, it's been touch and go. It's why you've seen the rise of these kind of pirate lord too, with too little authority to knock them down. There's three planetary 'Senators' that report to Lothario, but they've got no authority in and of themselves. They sure as hell won't have any help to give us."

     Freyja scoffed. "There has to be a list of people that these pirates extort. If they collect at your level of the bureaucracy, then that's the level we organize at. Estate owners like yourself, is there any organization or gathering that links you all?"

     "Formally, no. This is the periphery. People value their freedoms out here, we don't tend to over complicate things. But informally, I could probably rustle up some kind of meeting of all the landed lords. The nobility and all is a patchwork here, but with their purse strings threatened, I think they'll see reason. It will take a few days to organize. But we have time."

     "How much? How often did Bart Carter collect his payments?"

     Ned shook his head. "This new guy is doing things his own way. Says his first 'payment' is supposed to be before the fifteenth of March, next year. So two and a half months."

     "Do what you have to in order to make it work. We'll only get one chance at this."

Forging Freyja - Chapter 9.3

Lummatii
Lothian League
Marian Hegemony
The Periphery
26 December, 3149

     The door to the guest suite slammed shut. Raiden Trogg turned to face Freyja, who stood beside the red-headed woman whose name she still did not know. "Your master will be glad you were the smart one. I wasn't sure he was going to be smart and let his slave do the dirty work and keep his family out of it, but you made that choice for him. Smart girl. Now, let Blaze there get you undressed and we can get this party started."

     Freyja stared back at him in disbelief, unsure of what to do. The massive man shrugged. "Look, it isn't so bad, we're pirates after all, we've got all kinds of good drugs to make things feel fine. You'll have the time of your life."

     She shook her head. "I'm not doing anything. I just came here to keep the Bakkers out of it. They're good people, and you needn't upset their lives for your frolicking and plunder."

     He moved closer to her. She ran through options in her head. She looked for anything that could be used as a weapon. There was no way she could escape him without help.

     "Now that's where you're wrong, princess," he laughed. "You're not getting out of here. You'll do whatever I tell you. You may as well enjoy it."

     She backed up as far as she could, trying to trade distance for any help in her search for an advantage. "Not with scum like you. I may be on the ass end of the periphery, but I'll not give in to you."

     She spotted the fireplace poker, and mentally tagged it as her best chance at a weapon. She knew she would only get one shot at this, and then Raiden's massive bulk would simply overwhelm her. She kept herself alert, ready to make her move at the right time.

     "You're making this way harder than it has to be. You might as well do it my way" He had a dull hunger in his eyes as he spoke. As they moved around the room, Raiden caught his foot on the huge bear fur carpet. Freyja took her chance and ran for the poker.

     With unbelievable speed, he adjusted to her lunge, and she found his large hand grab her by the neck. With almost casual ease, he lifted her by the throat and slammed her into the wall, driving the air from her lungs and leaving her gasping for air. He threw her onto the large bed and pinned her almost effortlessly.

     Her vision narrowed as she struggled to regain her breath, a dark tunnel showing only her attacker. She felt a prick in her arm, and Raiden nodded. "I like a bit of a struggle, but you're fight or flight. Don't worry, Blaze just dosed you up good. You'll start to feel it soon, like your arms and legs are going numb. But don't worry, you'll be awake for everything. It's a shame, such a pretty little thing, but hey, you have to mark your territory, you know?"

     He was right. She fought and struggled, for all the good it would do, but after a few seconds her limbs started to feel heavy. Even her breathing felt heavy, and all she could do was look up into the face of the murderous pirate atop her.

     The drugs and shock began to blur her reality. It was as if time stopped. She felt the villainous oaf tearing her clothes off, and it felt as if her skin itself was being peeled away. She let out an ear piercing scream, yet no sound came out of her mouth. It was as if time itself fragmented, and she only registered small, jolting bits. At various times she felt like she was out of her body, looking down on the muscular pirate treating her like a rag doll. In other moments she felt as if she were being impaled on a fiery stake. Through it all, there was no sound, even as she saw the devil speaking and laughing. Eventually, a kind of unconsciousness rescued her and she felt as though she was falling. And she kept on falling, in silence for what seemed like an eternity.

     Then suddenly, she was aware of herself again. She was back in her body. She could feel herself breathing. She opened her eyes, and the light was low. It could have been seconds, or minutes, but finally she grasped the reality of where she was. She felt pain. Dull all over, but burning in her core. She tried to raise her head, but she felt a hand against her cheek. It wasn't his hand, she knew that much. She raised her head slightly, and saw the female pirate with the blazing red hair. Blaze he had called her. She looked at Freyja with a sense of understanding.

     "Relax. Don't try to move too quickly, the drugs are wearing off, but slowly."

     Freyja gathered all of her awareness and tried to speak. "Have to get out".

     The woman rolled next to her. "No, he's still here. You'll be okay, we just have to get you cleaned up a bit. Come on." Blaze coaxed her out of the bed and led her gently to the bathroom. She walked her into the shower and pulled on the lever, sending ice cold water coarsing over the both of them.

     "What are you doing?"

     The woman took Freyja's face in her hands. "I'm trying to help. In a little way at least."

     "Fuck you" was all Freyja could muster.

     Blaze persisted. "Look, I know I'm in with the bad guy, but sometimes we all do what we have to in order to survive. Raiden is the top dog, and I just try to survive. But look, you've just had your whole world smashed. I know it's fucked up, but this is a turning point for you. You can fall apart and be broken and let him win, or you can use this to fire you. It doesn't make any sense now, I know. I just hope some day it will."

     They stood there in the shower, staring at each other for a few moments, before Freyja finally nodded. They quickly towel dried themselves, and Blaze wrapped Freyja in a big blanket made from some kind of animal fur that she didn't recognize. The other woman quickly walked across the room and dug through a bag, then returned to Freyja's side with a syringe.

     "You're probably hurting all over. I'm going to give you some morphine. Just go to sleep. When he wakes up, if you're passed out, he will just leave. We'll be gone when you wake up. Remember what I said to you."

     It was only a few moments after she felt the prick of the needle that she drifted off to sleep, hoping to never return.

Forging Freyja - Chapter 9.2

Lummatii
Lothian League
Marian Hegemony
The Periphery
26 December, 3149




     No one has had an awkward dinner until they've had to sit through dinner with pirates, Freyja thought to herself. The Bakker family dinner had been altered to include the new guests. Freyja hadn't eaten much, she was too on edge with this intruder in house. The conversation had initially been vague, but eventually it came down to business.

     "Bart Carter survived the fight alright, but I put a bullet in his head. That should at least rate a smile from you, shouldn't it?" he laughed in her direction.

     "A bit late to do me any good." she replied.

     He roared with laughter. "A slave with a sense of humor, I like it. I knew I liked these parts. The food is good too, of course." He paused to chew his food for some kind of emphasis before proceeding. "Old Bart Carter was a pushover, just like how he ran his business. I'm looking over his records, then thinking about this fine place that I saw as I came in, and it's obvious to me that he was undercharging you for his...protection."

     Ned paused. "We never had problems with him. It was a mutually beneficial arrangement. We paid his fee, like all the landowners around here, and gave him a market."

     "Yeah, well he was a bit soft. I see greener pastures here than he did. I think you all can afford to pay a bit more for protection, and insurance against accidents happening." Raiden sat back in his chair and gave a sly smile.

     "How much exactly were you thinking, Mr. Trogg? Things are tight here. I have my tenants, and business is hard, as well you know." This was where things got tricky. Ned, like all the local lords, could not afford to make an enemy of the local pirate organization. Unfortunately, they still had to make ends meet, and she doubted that they could pay much more above what the protection fee had been under the previous regime.

     "I'm reasonable. I'm thinking...triple what you pay now."

     Ned did his best to stifle a cough. "Triple? There's no way we can pay that kind of insurance."

     Raiden leaned forward. "See, the thing is, I'm the one with the BattleMechs. Which means I get to decide otherwise. Look, I get that you're the king of your castle here, but I'm not in it to small time. I don't care what it takes, put the screws to your tenants, make your workers work harder, hell, whore out your pretty little mechwarrior over there, makes no difference to me how you come up with your payment, just that you do."

     There was a long pause. Nobody knew which way things would go. Trogg had two BattleMechs outside that said he would get his way, and he knew it. Ned had nothing to leverage against the pirate threats. "I'm sure we will figure out some arrangement. Keeping things running smoothly is our top priority here."

     Raiden grinned. "I knew you would see things reasonably. No point in upsetting a good thing." He pushed back his chair and stood, along with his compatriot. "Now that we've got that all settled, I think we'll call it a night and retire, leave you folks in peace. Have your slave girl join us."

     Freyja froze, her eyes darting quickly between Ned and Raiden. "Freyja isn't that sort of servant, she's more like a member of the household."

     Raiden tilted his head slightly at Ned. "I thought you were extending your hospitality to us? Don't be going back on your word now."

     Her mind raced at a frantic pace. Just a few days earlier she had spent the night with one of the most important men on the planet, and here she was back to being bargained over like a prize.

     "It's just that some things are understood-" Raiden moved forward to cut off Ned as he spoke.

     "What I understand is that I get what I want, and what I want is your hospitality, and you to understand who is the top dog here. If our arrangement is to move forward-"

     "It's alright, my lord. I'll go with him. Just see to the family. We can all get through this." She blurted it out, partially not knowing why she did, but part of her realizing that she had to diffuse the situation. Things were going to get out of control, and there was no way to know what a crazy periphery pirate was going to do. This would get the Bakkers to safety, and she could find her own way out.

     "You see. Hospitality." Raiden grinned as the three of them left the dining room and made their way towards the guest wing of the estate.

Forging Freyja - Chapter 9.1

Lummatii
Lothian League
Marian Hegemony
The Periphery
26 December, 3149





      Freyja grabbed the bar to her right just in time to brace herself as the Phoenix Hawk landed hard on the snow packed ground. "You have to let the mech flex at the knees more when you land. You still haven't got that smoothed over yet."

     "Sorry," Peter said sheepishly next to her, handling the controls of the BattleMech. "Jumping just doesn't feel....natural. I don't know."

     She chuckled as she glanced over the control readouts. "You're riding forty-five tons of machinery, there is no natural. You just get used to it. Or at least you do if you pilot a mech with jump jets. And like it or not kid, you're inheriting a jumping mech from your old man, so you have to get the knack of it. In a combat situation, you have to be smoother than than on a regular basis."

     He grunted and pushed the mech to full throttle, bounding through the snow that had recently fallen. "I won the simulator tournament at the Solstice festival, didn't I?"

     She punched him in the shoulder in response. "Congratulations, master Peter, you managed to outfight a bunch of backwoods periphery wannabes in a simulator contest. That's exactly enough to get you cocky enough to get killed the first time the rounds are flying for real."

     "Hey, I get it, I get it," he spat in response. He handled the forty-five ton Phoenix Hawk well enough on the ground, and had even gotten fairly good at aiming, albeit at non-moving and non-shooting targets. But she had no illusions that she was even close to having trained him for combat, and nowhere near as ready as he thought he was. She was about to have him run another jumping drill when a klaxon started blaring and a warning light flashed. "Hey, what's that? Sensors got a couple of mechs out at max range, what are they doing here?"

     Her mind raced. This could not be good. "I don't know, slow down, for one, you're heading right at them. They look to be on the main trail back to our place. Quick, kill your active fire control systems!"

     "What?"

     She punched him in the shoulder again. "Just do it. We've got an active FCS sensors on this thing, but you're father has the weapons locked down. Even if we had to fight them, we can't. Without our active sensors pinging away they might not pick us up and we might be able to watch them and see what they're up to."

     He complied and killed the active fire control systems, and slowed the mech to keep a distance as they watched the contacts on the radar display. She had just about convinced herself that it had worked, when a voice came over a general frequency.

     "Whoever is tip-toeing around in that mech out there on the edge of our sensors, you best quit it. We aren't here for trouble, but if you keep poking around, I'm liable to get impatient and decide to slag you. Understand?"

     Peter looked at her for some kind of guidance, and she nodded. "Understood."

     The line was silent for a moment, then chirped back to life. "We're heading out to the Bakker estate to meet with the owner of these lands. If you're from these parts, ride in with us."

     Again, she nodded to Peter, and he brought the Phoenix Hawk in closer to the other mechs, eventually falling into formation with them as they headed toward the Bakker estate. The mechs were a Grasshopper and a Hunchback that looked to be some kind of laser carrying Swayback variant. Even if the P-hawk's weapons were live, it was doubtful they could fight off whoever these two were, so for now the only alternative was to go along. The mechs didn't sport any kind of insignia or colors that would provide a clue to their identity. That would have to wait for later.

     A short time later, they were back at the Bakker estate, and Freyja and Peter had disembarked the Phoenix Hawk and thrown on parkas over their mechwarrior togs to join Ned and Clarissa Bakker as they stood waiting for the two unknown mechwarriors to dismount.

      The Hunchback pilot was a woman, in her mid forties, Freyja guessed, with blazing red hair and an almost strut to the way she walked. She didn't look old, but rather she had a look about her that said she was tired, in spite of the striking hair and walk. As the Grasshopper pilot descended the mech and climbed to the ground, Freyja wondered just how he had fit himself in the cockpit. The man wasn't the size of a clan elemental, but he wasn't far from it, and his massively muscled frame had Freyja doubting just who would come out on top if this guy were to fight an elemental.

     The pair walked up to Ned, and much to Freyja's surprise, it was the gargantuan man that spoke up. "Edward Bakker?"

     Ned Bakker stepped forward and shook the man's hand. "I'm Ned Bakker. I'm afraid we weren't expecting guests. To what do we owe the pleasure?"

     The man let out a hearty laugh. "Not much pleasure in having a couple of BattleMechs knock on your front door, but I appreciate the sentiment. Though I don't appreciate having someone ping me with active sensors and follow me around."

     "My apologies. That Phoenix Hawk was piloted by my son Peter, he's being trained as a mechwarrior by my servant there," Ned explained.

     The man chuckled. "Hmm, you keep a slave girl to teach your boy mech piloting. Isn't that quaint."

     Ned kept his annoyance in check. "We make due as best we can out here on the frontier. I'm afraid I don't know you, are you one of Bart Carter's men?"

     The large man stared at Ned, who, to his credit, did not flinch. Freyja's pulse quickened at the mentioning of the name of the man who had captured her and sold her into this backwater existence. "Old Bart Carter is dead. He and I had a little run in, and I came out on top. He came out dead. I took over his operations, and I'm kind of making a little housewarming tour to meet and greet his customers. Name is Raiden Trogg. It's getting late in the day, I trust my companion and I can avail ourselves of your hospitality for the night?"

     Resigned, with two pirate BattleMechs at his door, Ned nodded. "Of course, Mr. Trogg. We have plenty of guest space, and you and your friend can join my family for dinner." Freyja only hoped things wouldn't go as badly as she anticipated they would.

Forging Freyja - Chapter 8.2

Lummatii
Lothian League
Marian Hegemony
The Periphery
22 December, 3149



     Clarissa hadn't been exaggerating when she had talked up the solstice ball. For a periphery world, they certainly took their social scene more seriously than Freyja ever would have guessed. The capital city had been decorated festively, with there being no worries about an ample supply of snow. And yet it was not done in a gaudy way, but rather classically. Walking through the streets, one might even forget for a time that they were on a backwater periphery world hundreds of light years from the cradle of humanity, instead finding themselves in an almost storybook fantasy of a holiday town.

     And yet, because it was the periphery, it lacked the ostentatious commercialism of a Tharkad or New Avalon celebration, the closest she could think of to storybook Christmas celebrations in her knowledge of sphere-wide traditions. There was something warm and inviting to it, something that she had found entirely lacking thusfar in her servitude in the periphery.

      Freyja had traveled with the Bakkers to the capital, and aside from having to constantly reassure master Peter of his chances at the simulator tournament, she had found herself with no real duties to perform. Quite the opposite, Clarissa had taken her out shopping for a dress and accessories for the ball, and had doted over her like a sister or a daughter. Initially she had thought the idea of attending the ball was a terrible idea, but the more time she spent in the capital, the more she realized that she was going to love it. She had grown up dealing with these sorts of things, and after having her world turned upside down, the chance to capture something familiar, even if it was in secret, had excited her.

     "This is a horrible idea," Peter said to her as they walked, arm in arm, into the ballroom. It was lit by countless chandeliers, which had been suitably decorated with tinsel and garland, and the lighting was, she thought, perfect. In all the dances, balls, and galas she had attended in her short life, she had always noticed the lighting. Sometimes it was too dim and there were far too many shadows. More often, it was lit too brightly, and the glare of the light served to illuminate the attendees in all of their flaws. But this room was lit warmly, invitingly, enough to drive away shadows but not so much that you felt you were baking in the cockpit of a BattleMech.

     "Relax Peter. You'll have a drink, settle in, and end the night with some fine young lady on your arm waiting to be led to your bed," she said softly with a chuckle. He didn't seem amused. The two of them could not appear more opposite. Peter looked stiff in his tuxedo, as if it had been draped over him. He fidgeted constantly, nervous as if he were watching for an attacker. Freyja,  on the other hand, moved as if in her natural habitat. She wore a strapless blue gown which fit her perfectly, and as Clarissa had assured her, blended perfectly with the style of the evening. She looked every bit the young debutante she would be portraying for the evening.

     She tried to ease Peter into things, but he clung to her like a cat ready to take flight at the first sign of trouble, and surely enough, as they mingled through the crowd when they first came upon a group of likewise awkward young men, he took the opportunity to take his leave and settle himself in the comfort of other awkward young men. It suited her fine. Within minutes she had worked her way through the room and taken notice of all the important centers of attention, found out the nesting places of each of the assorted groups, and already caught the wandering eye of several of the assembled men.

     It had been surprisingly easy to gain acceptance with her story of being an off-world relative of the Bakkers, to the point where she felt carefree and unburdened in a way she had not felt in a long time. Within an hour, everyone knew of the tale of the visiting spheroid, and she had virtually become a part of the setting. She had already carefully deflected the advances of several young men, and some not so young men, as she settled into a gathering of young women.

     These were princesses of gossip, each a young lady with a story that they were all too happy to tell, and comment upon the stories of others. They were there to observe and critique, concerned mainly with securing themselves a man for the evening when the ball wrapped up. She had just settled into making small talk with them and pumping them for information, when she noticed several of their gazes shifted suddenly. She turned to see a young man making an entrance, casually deflecting the attention of what appeared to be men of business. She found her gaze lingering on his nearly perfectly chiseled features, long enough that his piercing eyes locked with hers for a moment. Long enough to send a bolt of excitement through her.

     "Oh dear, the Count has caught the eye of our friend from offworld," one of the girls words snapped her attention back to the group. She took a sip of her champagne so as to not appear flustered.

     "I beg your pardon?" she asked the group as a whole.

     A few of the girls exchanged looks, then one spoke up. "That young man you were just admiring, he's Gunnar Logan." Freyja responded with an unknowing look.

     "The Gunnar Logan," another of the women offered up. "Count Gunnar Logan. Dear, didn't you read up on the nobility here when you found out you were going to visit?"

     "I'm afraid not. There's something special about this Count Logan?" She took another sip of her champagne and tried to judge the looks that the other girls gave each other.

     "Something special? I don't know about that. Other than that he's ungodly attractive and totally unattainable?" quipped one of the women. She had barely stopped talking when another spoke up, "Well, unless you want to be one of his one night conquests."

     "Oh, so he's something of a playboy?" Freyja asked.

     The self appointed leader of the group spoke up. "He's the playboy. He inherited his title at like, twenty, and he just lives the life of a noble mechwarrior party boy. Uses people, uses women, and doesn't give a damn about it."

     She listened to a laundry list of stories about the Count and his escapades, but she didn't truly hear it. None of it mattered. Playboy or not, she had one night of freedom and now she had one target. Not that she was going to swoon all over the guy. No, she would get him, and she would get him her way.

     She spent the next half hour observing him. The first half she did so subtly. She watched as various people tried to introduce themselves to him, businessmen, nobles, people out for something. Then there were the women who flung themselves at him. Not that she blamed them. Even if he wasnt a noble, he was a good enough specimen of manhood that they would have probably done so anyway. And she watched as he mentally cataloged them for later. Well, maybe she was giving the gossip too much influence, maybe not.

     Having learned all she could through observation, she let go the pretense of subtlety. She worked the room again, this time allowing her gaze to linger here and there just long enough to get caught, making sure he knew he was being watched. At one point she stopped and asked herself what she was doing. Sure, she had good genes, she had grown up knowing she was pretty, sometimes she was described as delicate. But the last year had spent it's time pounding home the fact that she was now just a slave, and here she was, contemplating getting lucky with possibly the most eligible man on the planet.

     But she cast that aside. She had come out here to forge her own way. Her plan had been derailed, to be sure, but if this wasn't the definition of making the most of your chances, she didn't know what was.

     It was one of the universe's great ironies that she had been taught how to work a room and a crowd like this by her Aunt Kat. She had brought up the irony to Kat years ago, but her mentor had brushed it aside. Politics and social events were simply another form of combat, she had said. Treat it like anything else, come up with a plan, always be alert, keep your eyes on your minimap, and strike when the time was right.

     She almost bumped into Gunnar Logan, and made just enough of a show of avoiding doing so. "Apologies, my lord, I didn't mean to intrude."

     Gunnar flashed a smile and reached out to take her hand. "Think nothing of it, my lady. I don't think we've been introduced, and fate simply decided now was the time to right that wrong. I'm Gunnar Logan, Count Logan if you must, but to tell you the truth, with all the titles and formalities floating around the room, I try not to stand too much on titles. I'm afraid I don't know you, which for me, is quite rare."

     She allowed him to take her hand and curtsied ever so slightly as she felt the rush of his touch. "Yes, my lord, I'm told you are quite well acquainted with the ladies hereabouts, so I am rather happy to have presented you with something new. I am Freyja McCallum, I'm here visiting my cousin, Lord Bakker, and was fortunate enough to have my arrival coincide with this incredible ball that you put on here on Lummatii."

     The count chuckled slightly at her subtle barb. "Ah, Ned Bakker, yes, I'm afraid I don't know him well, perhaps that is how I missed the news of your arrival. And please, don't let my reputation frighten you, gossip is a terrible thing, but one we have to endure, sadly."

     She tipped her head slightly. "Of course, I'd never give weight to gossip. Neither would I be frightened away by it. We MechWarriors are a slight step above that, I dare say."

     He raised a brow as the music started and a dance began. She fought back a jolt of excitement as his hand pressed against her back. "You are a MechWarrior as well? I dare say. Where did you train, if you don't find my asking too impertinent a question?"

     She had to be careful to spin her tale as close to the truth as she could, without something that might unmask her identity. "The women in my family have been MechWarriors for generations. I was family trained so as to keep the tradition alive."

     "I see. Mechwarrior credentials have traditionally gone with the title in my family as well, I had the good fortune to train on Alphard, but avoid service in those dreadful Marian Legions. McCallum isn't a name that rings a bell. I take it from your accent that you are from somewhere in the Republic?"

     She smiled softly. "No, simply well taught. My family roots go back to Rasalhague." It was a bit of a lie, but one that she had to chance. Ned Bakker's family was rooted in the old Rasalhague Dominion and Free Rasalhague Republic, and posing as his cousin, she had to maintain that fiction.

     "All the same, there is something familiar about you. Did you make news around here?"

     She wasn't sure if he was simply fishing, or if there was something she had to worry about. There seemed to be no way that he could have seen her, but it nagged at her. "I'm afraid not. I'm hardly newsworthy. I mostly travel, check in on family affairs, the burdens of nobility, you understand, I'm sure."

     "Of course. Though thankfully, my hold is entirely local. No travel needed. I get to pursue my interests without much weighing me down."

     She shot him a coy look. "Pursue your interests? Young women no doubt."

     He gently rolled his eyes. "Ah, the reputation again. No I was referring to being something of a military historian. I love to study old battles, the Succession Wars, the Clan Wars, the champions of Solaris VII. That sort of thing."

     "Ah. I had thought once of travelling to Solaris to try my hand at the games. But of course it's hard to know what they are, what with the blackout and all. No way of knowing if they're still going or not."

     He furrowed his brow in thought for a moment. "Solaris is a beast that's hard to kill. I'm sure the games are running in some form or another. The blackout, it has it's downside to be sure, but we feel it much less out here. You must be from a good deal Sphereward."

     She didn't know the history of the Bakker family, and thought it best not to guess. She was rescued by the ending of the current song, giving her a chance to take her leave. "It has been a pleasure, my lord. I hope your evening is a pleasant one."

     "And yours, Lady McCallum."

     They parted and went their separate ways  in the room, and Freyja's mind raced. She found her pulse had quickened, and she thoroughly enjoyed her time with Gunnar Logan. Far from the playboy he had been described as, she found him rather intriguing. Perhaps the gossip was wrong. And perhaps you're letting your desires get the better of you, Freyja.

     From that point on, the evening seemed to progress at a frenzied pace. She continued to work the room, shooting the occasional glance at the Count, and had more than once caught him looking in her direction. She could tell the evening was beginning to wind down, as couples were beginning to pair up and make good their escape. She ran into Peter making awkward conversation with a girl, and wished him the best of luck. She worked her way closer to Count Logan's party, when one of the servers caught her attention.

     "My lady, I was sent to tell you that Count Logan will be taking his leave soon.".

     Freyja thanked the man and left him standing there confused. No doubt Count Logan expected her to rush to his side at the news of his leaving. No, he would have to do better than that. She made her way over to a group discussing the rejuvenation of the capital and feigned interest in the conversation. She had just started to worry that she had overplayed her hand, when she noticed the glances of several in the group turn towards her, and she turned in time to see the Count approaching.

     "The evening is getting late, Lady McCallum. I'm sure you've had a long day, but would you do me the honor of accompanying me to my suite for a nightcap? Our discussion earlier was caught far too short?" His eyes shone with a sense of intrigue, as he was no doubt not used to being made to ask for what he wanted.

     "A splendid idea, Count Logan."

     He led her from the ballroom and into the lobby of the large hotel where the event was being held. His entourage followed them, up until they reached the lift. One of the staff inserted a key into the panel, and the doors slid open, allowing them access.

     "You have a suite here at the hotel? How convenient." She quipped.

     "One of the perks of nobility. No need to ruin the mood with travel on a cold evening like this."

     The lift opened and they passed through a doorway into the main room of the suite. It was classically furnished, in a style one would expect to see more in the Federated Suns or the Republic of the Sphere than in the traditionally Roman styled architecture of the Marian Hegemony.

     "Allow me to guess.....vodka?"

     She cocked her head slightly. "Whiskey, actually. Neat"

     He feigned a look of defeat. "Damn. I'm usually better at judging than that."

     She walked further into the room. "Good at judging a girl's alcohol, are you?"

     "Ah, there you are again, foisting me on my reputation. I'm going to develop a complex."

     She took the tumbler of amber liquid that he offered her. "All in good fun, I assure you."

     "I enjoyed this evening."

     "Not your first solstice ball though, I assume?" she joked.

     He gestured for her to sit, and then took a seat himself in a large chair that sat opposite the one he offered her. He sat back in it, ever so slightly relaxed, yet not entirely. Freyja perched in the edge of the chair, careful to keep her gown from interfering. "No, I was referring to the little game we played in there. I'm used to an avalanche of people coming at me, it was refreshing to see someone subtly stalking their prey for a change."

     She smiled. "You make me sound like a cat. It was simple social custom."

     "Well, not so common around here. A refreshing change of pace, I'd say."

     They talked delicately around each other for two more drinks. They discussed local politics, each other's hobbies, and shared a bit about each other's past. Freyja caught herself lost several times in his voice, noticing the movement of his chiseled jaw or the ease with which his hand held the tumbler of whiskey. She knew what he was after. And she knew that she wanted him as well, even if it was for only one night of relief from the nightmare that had become her venture into the periphery. Yet still she played coy.

     "Well, I suppose the evening is nearing it's end. It has been a pleasure, Count Logan." She said as she stood, setting her glass on the table.

     "Must it end so soon? I was rather enjoying our talk."

     "As was I, but I'm afraid it's a fair distance to my lodging, and the hour is growing late. I must be taking my leave of you now." She paused. "Was there something else you wanted?"

     He smiled slightly, also nervously biting his lip in a way she guessed he had not done in a long time. "My goal at the beginning of the night was to end the evening with the most beautiful woman at the ball in my bed."

     Freyja feigned a look of concern. "And where did she go?"

     "She's standing right in front of me about to take her leave. But I find myself more worried if I will ever see her again."

     She shook her head slightly. "Is that the line you use on all the girls?"

     "I don't generally find myself concerned about seeing the girls again, no. But, of course, you think I'm just a player, and so maybe I'll just throw you for a loop by bidding you good night. Thereby proving you wrong."

     She took a step closer to him. "There is only one flaw in this line of thinking of yours."

     He paused, genuinely intrigued. "And that is?"

     "In all this planning, you've thought only about what you want. You've left me out of the equation. You've assumed that you're the hunter and I'm out to escape, and winning means you score your prize, losing means I slip away. But what if I'm not the prey?"

     She could see a fire ignite behind his eyes. "Do tell."

     She stepped closer, pressing her body dangerously close to his. "What if my goal was to end my night in the bed of the most powerful man on this planet?"

     He drew in a long breath. "Then you win."

     She kissed him hungrily, savoring the sensation of his hands running over her body. It took little time at all before they lustfully disrobed each other. At first they virtually attacked each other, the intensity burning bright as all the tension and walls slipped away. But as time passed, their play turned softer, almost romantic as they realized that the moment was not going to slip away.

     She couldn't remember the last time she had been with a man. With her life turned upside down, she had pushed all that to the side. So much had been taken away from her, but now, she found herself straddling the most powerful man on the planet, his hands gripping her breasts as the two of them slid against each other in an act older than any of the history or chaos that seemed to rule her life now.

     And it would all disappear in the morning. This escape would be fleeting, as life and the cold hand of fate slammed her back down to her station. She let out a laugh as Gunnar reached his climax, and stifled it before his mind woke from the fog of pleasure-induced detachment.

     She slid gently off of him and ran her hands over her eyes and through her golden blonde hair before settling down against his chest. "I suppose I should go."

     He wrapped an arm around her to keep her close. "Hey, you don't have to go right away. And after that, I would hope you could stay a few days."

     She sighed, realizing he had no idea how badly she wanted to, but how impossible it was. "I'm afraid not. Duty calls. I'm on a tight schedule here, between commitments here, and interstellar schedules what they are."

     He returned her sigh. "Life would hit me like that. Get my pick of all kinds of women, then when I find one I want, she has to go."

     "I'm sorry for the quips about other girls. It was all in fun. I realized pretty early on that you were more than what the rumors made you out to be." She rested her hand on his chest.

     "I know you probably think it's just a line, but I do feel like there's something different here. For what that's worth." He seemed resigned.

     "I know. I wish it could be something more. More than you'll ever know. But things just don't work out that way sometimes. Let's just forget about all that for now. We've got until the morning."

   

Forging Freyja - Chapter 8.1

Lummatii
Lothian League
Marian Hegemony
The Periphery
18 December, 3149




     The evening meal had started to become a routine. Once or sometimes twice a week, Freyja would join the family for dinner, and they would exchange stories, tidbits of how things had gone that week and other small things, to the point that she was starting to become comfortable with it. And that made her uncomfortable. She would not settle into this life, she could not.

     "The solstice festival begins in a few days. Are you excited, Peter?" Ned liked to direct the conversation, and insomuch as dinner had become a kind of meeting, he was always the chair.

     "I suppose so. And a bit nervous." Peter tried to cover his admission by taking a large bite of food soon after he spoke.

     "What is there to be nervous about?" Freyja asked. As much as she was settling in, she still was often at a loss when it came to the local customs and traditions that had sprung up on this world. With the Inner Sphere spanning so many thousands of star systems, the number and diversity of holiday celebrations and traditions was almost limitless.

     It was Clarissa who spoke up with an explanation. "There's a huge celebration every year in the capital city. Lot's of food and merriment, but there are two highlights. There's a tournament among the youngsters where they fight BattleMech simulator duels and crown a sort of champion. The MHAF runs it, and there are recruiters there. There's also a huge Solstice Ball, anyone who is anyone in society is there, and being that this will be his first festival as an adult, Peter will be expected to attend."

     "Sentenced to attend is more like it," Peter quipped.

     Freyja smiled. "They really aren't that bad. I've been to several. You can find your own entertainment among the stuffiness."

     "Maybe for you, but you're a girl, you like those sort of things," Peter said with a frown on his face.

     Freyja was about to respond, but Clarissa cut in first. "It's also the unofficial kick off of the social year and an entrance to the dating scene. With things so spread out here on Lummatii, you don't get much chance to mingle if you live outside the cities and their public schools. Peter is just nervous about all the girls that are going to be there to gobble him up," she smiled and winked.

     "Mother!"

     "Relax, Peter. Everyone else there will be just as nervous as you, trying to avoid saying the wrong thing to the wrong person, worried that their dress isn't as fetching as the girl they just passed and so on. The key is just to enjoy yourself." Freyja tried to reassure him.

     "Easy for you to say, you don't have to go." Peter was practically pouting at this point.

     "Trust me, If I could, I would. I'm sure it's an amazing time."

     Clarissa put down her silverware. "Why can't you? I think it's a splendid idea. You can help poor Peter navigate the waters."

     Ned gave Clarissa a glare as Freyja spoke up. "I hardly think it's the kind of place for someone of my station, Lady Clarissa."

     Clarissa brushed aside her husband's attempt to interject. "Who needs to know? You'll be coming with us anyway, I'll take you out shopping for a dress. Once we're in the capital, nobody is going to know who you are. We'll say you're Peter's cousin or something, from offworld."

     They both looked towards Ned, who shrugged in consternation. "I'm smart enough not to argue with my wife, even if I think it's a disastrous idea."

Forever Faithful - Thoughts and Review

     Battletech print fiction is back! When I heard that, I immediately pre-ordered Forever Faithful by Blaine Lee Pardoe, the first "new" Battletech novel in what seems like forever. As I read more of the teaser material I shrugged, as the Twilight of the Clans was not exactly my favorite story arc from a consumer standpoint, but the excitement of having new, novel length fiction got the better of me. Well, that and the fact that I'm a Battletech junkie who orders even the pdf-only supplements that CGL puts out periodically. If it's been published anywhere about Battletech, yes, I've read it.

     Let me get some basics out of the way. If you're on the fence about ordering Forever Faithful, don't be. Get off the fence and order. It's a great read, and easily in the top 10% of Battletech novels, it's well written, well paced, and just a plain good read. It splices together the Twlight of the Clans and Dark Age eras quite well, while taking place almost exclusively in the TOTC era. If you like any previous Battletech fiction, you will absolutely find this one a great read.

     Now, on to the spoiler-y review territory. I'll start with what I loved, and that's the character development we get to see in this novel. When I first heard that the new novel was going to focus largely on Trent, I admit, I rolled my eyes a little. I never liked Trent as a character. I don't just mean that I didn't find him likable, I mean that I didn't like his arc much at all. I never felt invested in his motivations, I never really understood why he was doing what he was doing. Yes, I realize that he was a plot device to get the story line where it needed to be, but I never felt like he was a believable one. Much like Paul Moon, I found myself just by default assuming that Trent betrayed the exodus road for revenge. His society failed him, his world wasn't what it was made out to be, and he lashed out at it in his failure. I could understand it, but it seemed shallow. I generally just glossed over it and got to the Inner Sphere parts of the annihilation of the Smoke Jaguars and went from there.

     Forever Faithful doesn't simply change that, it does so by re-framing the story. As readers, we really only ever got half of Trent's arc, and we were simply left with that and a few lines about his death. Here we get the other half of the arc, we get the meaty bits, we get to see how Trent reacts to and lives with the choices he has made. In seeing his reaction to the destruction of the Smoke Jaguars, we are finally able to really understand his motivations for betraying his former clan in the first place.

    What we get is not so much a redemption story, as it is the story of a man learning to live with the choices he has made, and taking an active role in guiding the events as they unfold. Where before we had Trent simply as a passive participant, basically handing over the keys and expecting things to just happen around him and be set right, now we have a man who realizes that handing over the Exodus Road was just a mere part of his role in events. He has a much larger role to play in things to come, and rather than simply handing over his former clan for destruction, he takes the reins in reshaping it.

     There are two small issues I have with the book, and neither significantly impact it's value to the Battletech universe, but hey, this is my place for bringing things up, so why not. My first issue is the treatment of the SLDF. These are the guys that we invested so much emotion in during Operations Bulldog and Serpent, and the Great Refusal, and in this book, they're kind of relegated to the role of carpetbaggers and keystone cops. They're generally portrayed one dimensionally, and display all kinds of ineptitude. Yes, I understand that this is the sort of thing that goes on in wars and politics, but from a storytelling point of view, it seemed a little cheap.

     The second point I have is slightly more controversial. I don't like to use the term "bias" when it comes to authors of fiction, because, let's face it, that's what we're paying for, an author's creativity, biases, past experiences, the whole package. I think perhaps a better way of stating it is that at times in the book, the author gets overtly preachy in regards to the destruction of symbols of the Smoke Jaguars history. It's a minor point, but it comes up often enough, and in such a way that it is jarringly out of character.  You reach the parts where mention of the erasure of the Smoke Jaguars is made, and you clearly hearing the author lecture you on the dangers of forgetting history. There might as well be the obligatory mis-quote "Those who ignore the past are doomed to repeat it" plastered in graffiti by some Smoke Jag sibko brat. In a way, this almost links with my first point. There are a few jarring places where you are brought to envision Mr. Pardoe writing about the blundering Yankees and carpetbaggers coming to ruin the town while he sips a mint julep and pines over the moving of a statue of ole' Marse Robert out of the town square.

     Overall, these points are minor however, and probably be missed by most people. Certainly they do not take away in any great way from the enjoyment of the story. I read this one in e-format, and I will most definitely be purchasing a paper copy for my nerd bookshelf.

You can order it from Amazon and I would highly recommend it.