4TCR Dropship Yong Huo
Capella
Capellan Confederation
19 January, 3050
The bulkhead leading to the command center was open, and as Faith entered she coughed slightly from the cigar smoke filling the room. The air recycling system always seemed to be taxed when the cigars and scotch were in the air, and they certainly were today.
The central map display showed what every officer knew, that the Liao forces were being pushed off Capella. The maps and tactical displays at this point seemed like they were etched behind her eyelids. With each passing day, the Davion beachhead grew larger and larger, until the majority control of the planet was now in favor of the sword and sunburst.
"How long?" she asked almost nonchalantly.
The XO scratched absentmindedly at the stubble on his face. "Two days. Thirty-six hours if they push, but I don't see them doing that. These Davrats are nothing if not meticulous. The Tikonov boys are just about packed up, and the Gatekeepers won't be far behind. We're holding the door open, but as soon as everyone clears out, we lift off too."
"Damn. First St. Ives falls, and now this. This shit is starting to make the Fourth Succession War look like a Sunday drive. If we can't get more numbers, and soon-" Ace cut her off with a motion of his hand.
"We can't worry about the larger picture right now. We just do our job. Leave the rest up to the Strategios. We took some pretty big lumps here, and we're going to have to lick our wounds for a while. We'll meet up with Ork back at Altorra and take things from there. My priority right now is getting 4TCR patched up again, once we've done that, we can worry about hitting Davion back for this one." She could hear a mixture of resignation, yet determination in his voice as the executive officer talked. He was right of course, there wasn't anything that the Rangers could do to change things, the house-wide strategy was beyond their control. That didn't mean that losing Capella didn't eat at her, she knew it ate at all of them.
But that wasn't why she had come to the command center on the Rangers dropship to see Ace Kaller. She knew that losing Capella might mean a great deal more to him. And to hell if she was going to let that happen. The Davrats might push them off the planet, but she wasn't going to leave without a small victory. Amid the vast losses in this great war, they needed every small victory they could get.
"Do we have intel on what unit holds the capital city?" she asked.
"Probably second regiment of the Headhunters RCT. And I know why you're asking but there's nothing I can do at this point" he replied tersely.
"Like hell there isn't. She's your mother. And a damn good scientist." Faith made sure to put the full weight of her emotions into her words.
"And I can't be worried about a personal issue while we're lifting offworld." He shook his head.
"Bullshit. Vandril can handle the holding action and the evac. We have thirty-six hours to get this done. You know how Davion operates, they'll identify her for her expertise and move her somewhere else. We can't let that happen." Arguing with the XO was getting frustrating.
"She was born a citizen of the Federated Suns, she'll be ok." She could tell from his voice that he was trying to reassure himself more than anything.
"Yeah, and for twenty-five years she's worked for the Confederation. And more than a few of those on Tall Trees. The Feds aren't stupid. They're going to find out." She paused for a moment. This was a battle she had to win. She put her hand on his shoulder. "We've busted out of far worse. We have thirty-six hours. This is our home turf. We can do this."
She looked him square in the eye, imagining to herself that she could focus the fire in her mind and project it to get the point across. Ace looked away for a moment, and she knew she had won.
"Tell Vandril he's got the keys, I've got a little business to settle before we lift off this planet."
Wednesday, January 28, 2015
Saturday, January 24, 2015
The Jungle, Solaris City
Solaris VII
Lyran Commonwealth
11 December, 3049
"Faith, any truth to the rumors you will be joining a merc unit and heading coreward to fight these mysterious new aggressors?"
"Sources say you've signed on with the Kell Hounds, any comment?"
"There are rumblings that with war breaking out across the Inner Sphere that the games here will be shut down, do you have any plans for the future"
Faith McCarron her hands up as she brushed past the small herd of reporters swarming the hallway between the mechbay and the home locker room buried deep within the bowels of the sprawling Jungle arena.
"Guys, guys. My hair is a mess, I'm barely dressed, and they're still out there cutting that poor FedSuns scrub out of his Enforcer's cockpit. House of Lords says I have to talk to you guys post-fight, and I'll answer your questions at the presser in 20 minutes. Till then, back off."
She slammed the locker room door shut behind her, silently hoping to herself that she caught one of the reporters in the nose. That was one part of the job she could never get used to, those imbeciles clamoring for the tiniest tidbit of information about anything. None of them, of course, had ever been in a mech cockpit, and barely a handful of them had any idea what they were talking about. But it was the price you had to pay if you wanted the big bucks on the game world, and you had to go after the big bucks to fight the top tier. Which is all she ever wanted to do.
Not that the poor FedSuns pilot she had just defeated was anything close to top tier. Hell, she didn't even remember the guys name. Tonight was nothing but a formality, placement fights that had to be taken care of before the real season action opened in the new year. She could have beat the guy with one hand behind her back, which wasn't far from what she had done out there. Her mind was elsewhere.
She paid little mind to the handful of other pilots getting ready for their matches as she made her way to her corner of the locker room. She shoved her cooling vest into the locker, and tossed her tank top and shorts into the rolling bin standing in the middle of the room. The sweat might come out of them, but she doubted that the biting scent of coolant could ever be gotten out of a garment by any laundry machine this side of the Periphery. Maybe Kerensky had taken some top secret Lostech detergent with him, who knew.
Her mind wandered as she stood under the stream of hot water, struggling to get the residue of mech combat out of her hair. The reporters outside were right about one thing, the Inner Sphere was in chaos, all over. The Davions had picked a fine time to start gobbling up planets on their border with Liao, Marik, and Kurita, and there was some new force devouring whole worlds on the Coreward borders of the Combine, Free Rasalhague Republic, and Lyran Commonwealth. The Inner Sphere hadn't seen this much fighting since the 4th Succession War.
So what was she doing here, fighting in the arenas of the Game World, when there were battles to be had everywhere out there?
The HeatSink Bar and Grille, International Sector, Solaris City
Solaris VII
Lyran Commonwealth
11 December, 3049
She hated the lights and pounding music in this place. It was far too much of a tourist trap, if a tourist trap for the rich. At least he hadn't chosen a dive. It seemed like all of his favorite places on Sian were dives.
Her eyes scanned the room as she made her way through the open bar area in the front of the establishment. It was fairly easy to tell the tourist posers from the Solaris regulars. Tonight was a fairly slow night on the gaming circuit, but there was still a decent crowd. She chuckled to herself as she noticed one of the holodisplays on the wall running a re-run of her press conference from the fight a few hours ago. She hadn't said anything noteworthy. Hell, she didn't have anything noteworthy to say. At least not yet. This meeting might change things though.
This place was upscale enough, thankfully, that her entrance as a MechWarrior wasn't enough to cause a scene as it might be on some of the more low-end tourist traps. Being a MechWarrior had is privileges, of course. She didn't have to bother getting particularly dressed up, whereas most of the women in the joint were dressed for a night on the town, she could get away with her more casual down-time attire, boots, black leggings, a jade green tank top, and her favorite grey military style jacket, one arm bearing the patch of the House of Lords stable, and the other the stylized logo of the 4th Tau Ceti Rangers. And of course, unlike the average tourist, she was allowed to carry her Sternsnacht Python strapped to her thigh.
She brushed past several mildly intoxicated patrons offering her drinks. She wasn't here tonight to pick up man-candy, and even if she was, this crowd offered slim pickings. Besides, there were plenty of groupies on the premises that could serve those guys purposes. No, she had other business here tonight. She spotted her destination on the far side of the room and slid into a fairly private booth.
Seated across from her was an average sized man with light brown hair and green eyes that carried a subdued air of authority. He was dressed in civilian clothes, his suit jacket being Capellan in style, yet not quite current Sian fashion either. She would have to keep up better with fashion trends, she mused to herself. He had a drink in his hand, a Scotch if she knew anything. Nestled beside him was a young Asian woman with exquisite makeup and a dress that left little to the imagination.
"You brought a floozy with you?" Faith chuckled. The woman did not meet her gaze, but neither did she react in any way. At least she was a trained floozy.
The man motioned to the waitress, who appeared almost immediately. "The Balvenie Forty, on the rocks, for the lady. On my tab." The waitress nodded and disappeared. "Well, I figure if Ork is going to send me all the way out here, I might as well have a good time of it. I traveled some pretty shitty dropships to get here."
"All the way from Sian, just to drag little old me back? I got the recall, you know," she replied.
The waitress appeared with a glass of Scotch and set it down in front of her. "Anything else for the Lady?". Faith nodded with a smile, dismissing the girl.
"Altorra, actually. The Chancellor wanted us on the Free Worlds border in case they got adventurous if hostilities broke out with the Feds. Which, as it happened, they did. Some merc unit flying Marik colors crossed the border as soon as the FedRats hit, but we sent them packing pretty fast. And I know you got the recall, ComStar confirmed delivery. Ork sent me out here more for the sales pitch."
Faith chuckled to herself. "Did he now? Afraid I wasn't coming back? Don't tell me you guys are watching my press conferences back in the Confederation?"
"You'd be surprised who's keeping an eye on you back there. We may be mercs, but a lot of us have citizenship. It would be silly to think that just because you're fighting prize fights for the ggclose try-hards that the Maskirovka doesn't keep an eye on you. Plus you're winning a lot, you piss off the DavRats every chance you get, plus you've got that fancy last name that makes everyone think you're related to Archie." The man downed the last of his Scotch.
"I try to keep up with myself on the interwebs too. I hear the Gatekeepers called me "seditious" for taking fights out here. You would think with me pounding Davies into snot, they would be a little more appreciative. I'm not going to have to answer charges if I come back, am I?" she said wryly.
The man gave a subtle laugh. "No. Zvolimir thinks he's in charge of more than he is. He might have an ear or two at the Maskirovka, but that doesn't mean jack shit right now. The honest truth is that we're desperate for pilots. Good ones and bad ones. They're throwing Reserve Cavalry units into the fight like they're going out of style, but the FedRats are swamping us with numbers. The Tikonov guys are about the only ones other than us that we really expect to hold their own. But we need numbers in the Rangers badly. Elijah took off Coreward to help the Dragon. And not all of the new recruits are on board to the old standards yet. Truth be told, this outbreak of war caught us off guard."
She glanced over at the monitor, where her press conference replay was just wrapping up. "Well, I haven't made anything official yet. I think most of the Lords are heading up to the fight with whoever the hell is causing so much shit out on the periphery. But you can tell Ork that Lady McCarron will be back with the 4th Tau Ceti Rangers."
"I'll send the message out first thing in the morning," he replied.
She grinned. "Good, now, I've still got some adrenaline pumping through my veins from that fight, so what do you say we go have some fun on this town before we lift off?"
Solaris VII
Lyran Commonwealth
11 December, 3049
"Faith, any truth to the rumors you will be joining a merc unit and heading coreward to fight these mysterious new aggressors?"
"Sources say you've signed on with the Kell Hounds, any comment?"
"There are rumblings that with war breaking out across the Inner Sphere that the games here will be shut down, do you have any plans for the future"
Faith McCarron her hands up as she brushed past the small herd of reporters swarming the hallway between the mechbay and the home locker room buried deep within the bowels of the sprawling Jungle arena.
"Guys, guys. My hair is a mess, I'm barely dressed, and they're still out there cutting that poor FedSuns scrub out of his Enforcer's cockpit. House of Lords says I have to talk to you guys post-fight, and I'll answer your questions at the presser in 20 minutes. Till then, back off."
She slammed the locker room door shut behind her, silently hoping to herself that she caught one of the reporters in the nose. That was one part of the job she could never get used to, those imbeciles clamoring for the tiniest tidbit of information about anything. None of them, of course, had ever been in a mech cockpit, and barely a handful of them had any idea what they were talking about. But it was the price you had to pay if you wanted the big bucks on the game world, and you had to go after the big bucks to fight the top tier. Which is all she ever wanted to do.
Not that the poor FedSuns pilot she had just defeated was anything close to top tier. Hell, she didn't even remember the guys name. Tonight was nothing but a formality, placement fights that had to be taken care of before the real season action opened in the new year. She could have beat the guy with one hand behind her back, which wasn't far from what she had done out there. Her mind was elsewhere.
She paid little mind to the handful of other pilots getting ready for their matches as she made her way to her corner of the locker room. She shoved her cooling vest into the locker, and tossed her tank top and shorts into the rolling bin standing in the middle of the room. The sweat might come out of them, but she doubted that the biting scent of coolant could ever be gotten out of a garment by any laundry machine this side of the Periphery. Maybe Kerensky had taken some top secret Lostech detergent with him, who knew.
Her mind wandered as she stood under the stream of hot water, struggling to get the residue of mech combat out of her hair. The reporters outside were right about one thing, the Inner Sphere was in chaos, all over. The Davions had picked a fine time to start gobbling up planets on their border with Liao, Marik, and Kurita, and there was some new force devouring whole worlds on the Coreward borders of the Combine, Free Rasalhague Republic, and Lyran Commonwealth. The Inner Sphere hadn't seen this much fighting since the 4th Succession War.
So what was she doing here, fighting in the arenas of the Game World, when there were battles to be had everywhere out there?
The HeatSink Bar and Grille, International Sector, Solaris City
Solaris VII
Lyran Commonwealth
11 December, 3049
She hated the lights and pounding music in this place. It was far too much of a tourist trap, if a tourist trap for the rich. At least he hadn't chosen a dive. It seemed like all of his favorite places on Sian were dives.
Her eyes scanned the room as she made her way through the open bar area in the front of the establishment. It was fairly easy to tell the tourist posers from the Solaris regulars. Tonight was a fairly slow night on the gaming circuit, but there was still a decent crowd. She chuckled to herself as she noticed one of the holodisplays on the wall running a re-run of her press conference from the fight a few hours ago. She hadn't said anything noteworthy. Hell, she didn't have anything noteworthy to say. At least not yet. This meeting might change things though.
This place was upscale enough, thankfully, that her entrance as a MechWarrior wasn't enough to cause a scene as it might be on some of the more low-end tourist traps. Being a MechWarrior had is privileges, of course. She didn't have to bother getting particularly dressed up, whereas most of the women in the joint were dressed for a night on the town, she could get away with her more casual down-time attire, boots, black leggings, a jade green tank top, and her favorite grey military style jacket, one arm bearing the patch of the House of Lords stable, and the other the stylized logo of the 4th Tau Ceti Rangers. And of course, unlike the average tourist, she was allowed to carry her Sternsnacht Python strapped to her thigh.
She brushed past several mildly intoxicated patrons offering her drinks. She wasn't here tonight to pick up man-candy, and even if she was, this crowd offered slim pickings. Besides, there were plenty of groupies on the premises that could serve those guys purposes. No, she had other business here tonight. She spotted her destination on the far side of the room and slid into a fairly private booth.
Seated across from her was an average sized man with light brown hair and green eyes that carried a subdued air of authority. He was dressed in civilian clothes, his suit jacket being Capellan in style, yet not quite current Sian fashion either. She would have to keep up better with fashion trends, she mused to herself. He had a drink in his hand, a Scotch if she knew anything. Nestled beside him was a young Asian woman with exquisite makeup and a dress that left little to the imagination.
"You brought a floozy with you?" Faith chuckled. The woman did not meet her gaze, but neither did she react in any way. At least she was a trained floozy.
The man motioned to the waitress, who appeared almost immediately. "The Balvenie Forty, on the rocks, for the lady. On my tab." The waitress nodded and disappeared. "Well, I figure if Ork is going to send me all the way out here, I might as well have a good time of it. I traveled some pretty shitty dropships to get here."
"All the way from Sian, just to drag little old me back? I got the recall, you know," she replied.
The waitress appeared with a glass of Scotch and set it down in front of her. "Anything else for the Lady?". Faith nodded with a smile, dismissing the girl.
"Altorra, actually. The Chancellor wanted us on the Free Worlds border in case they got adventurous if hostilities broke out with the Feds. Which, as it happened, they did. Some merc unit flying Marik colors crossed the border as soon as the FedRats hit, but we sent them packing pretty fast. And I know you got the recall, ComStar confirmed delivery. Ork sent me out here more for the sales pitch."
Faith chuckled to herself. "Did he now? Afraid I wasn't coming back? Don't tell me you guys are watching my press conferences back in the Confederation?"
"You'd be surprised who's keeping an eye on you back there. We may be mercs, but a lot of us have citizenship. It would be silly to think that just because you're fighting prize fights for the ggclose try-hards that the Maskirovka doesn't keep an eye on you. Plus you're winning a lot, you piss off the DavRats every chance you get, plus you've got that fancy last name that makes everyone think you're related to Archie." The man downed the last of his Scotch.
"I try to keep up with myself on the interwebs too. I hear the Gatekeepers called me "seditious" for taking fights out here. You would think with me pounding Davies into snot, they would be a little more appreciative. I'm not going to have to answer charges if I come back, am I?" she said wryly.
The man gave a subtle laugh. "No. Zvolimir thinks he's in charge of more than he is. He might have an ear or two at the Maskirovka, but that doesn't mean jack shit right now. The honest truth is that we're desperate for pilots. Good ones and bad ones. They're throwing Reserve Cavalry units into the fight like they're going out of style, but the FedRats are swamping us with numbers. The Tikonov guys are about the only ones other than us that we really expect to hold their own. But we need numbers in the Rangers badly. Elijah took off Coreward to help the Dragon. And not all of the new recruits are on board to the old standards yet. Truth be told, this outbreak of war caught us off guard."
She glanced over at the monitor, where her press conference replay was just wrapping up. "Well, I haven't made anything official yet. I think most of the Lords are heading up to the fight with whoever the hell is causing so much shit out on the periphery. But you can tell Ork that Lady McCarron will be back with the 4th Tau Ceti Rangers."
"I'll send the message out first thing in the morning," he replied.
She grinned. "Good, now, I've still got some adrenaline pumping through my veins from that fight, so what do you say we go have some fun on this town before we lift off?"
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