Hilton Tara Riverfront
Tara
Altorra, Sian Commonality
Capellan Confederation
5 March, 3050
She waited until she was sure that Ace was asleep, and quietly slipped out into the main room. With the amount of alcohol he had consumed last night, she was pretty sure he was going to be out for a while, but Faith made sure not to make any loud noises as she slipped on a dark pair of trousers, boots, and a black tee shirt. She grabbed her coat, and slipped quietly out the door.
The halls of the hotel were empty at this hour of night. Only a few staff were to be seen, and she didn't care if they spotted her. She made her way down to the ground floor, and casually strolled out onto the street to hail a cab. While there were few cabs out and about, there were even fewer people, and she quickly found a ride and climbed into the hovercar.
"Comstar Compound please"
The car sped off, and within a few minutes, she found herself at the steps of the ComStar compound. She entered, passing through security with a minimum of trouble. She made her way to the counter, and was greeted by a smiling ComStar acolyte.
"How may we help you this morning?"
"I need to place a priority transmission to this account." She handed a plastic card to the acolyte. He took it and swiped it across the reader, then entered a few commands into the computer.
"Will you be requiring a delivery verification?"
"No. Just that the message be sent in a timely fashion".
"Of course. Just a few moments and I will have all the arrangements made. Your identicard please?"
She handed over her card, which the acolyte swiped to collect her identity and account data, and then promptly handed back to her.
"There you are, Ms. McCarron. Booth three is free for your recording, at your convenience"
She made her way to a corridor which housed several private booths for the recording of HPG messages. She closed the door behind her and sat down. She paused for a moment, then pressed the record button.
"Hello Cat. I need your help with something. There's been something of a dust-up in the 4TCR of late. A small but sizeable faction has left and made their way into Kurita space. The only thing I have to go on is a name, the Flying Circus. It's some kind of historical reference. The claim is that they're off to fight the clans, but I'm worried. More than a little. Check them out for me, ok?"
A few minutes later, the message was bouncing through the ComStar network, waiting for the recipient to log in and collect. The ball was rolling.
Thursday, March 12, 2015
Sunday, March 8, 2015
Club Cataphract
Tara
Altorra, Sian Commonality
Capellan Confederation
4 March, 3050
It was an average night at the Cataphract. The club was relatively full with patrons, the upper middle class of Altorran society. ever since the Fourth Tau Ceti Rangers had made their base of operations there, the capital city had undergone something of a rebirth. The influx of money had invigorated the population, and clubs had popped up across all social strata. This, though, was not the kind of place she would have expected to find her quarry.
The Cataphract was a club for the young crowd. The drinks were relatively cheap, and the music was loud. It was a hot spot for the local single scene, and no doubt there were a few mechwarrior groupies there. Her time on Solaris had let Faith spot the groupies a mile off. Some people liked them. Some just used them. She had never had much use at all for them, and neither, she thought, did her boss. And yet here she was, tracking him down.
A young man, obviously a server or bartender of some kind, intercepted her as she moved through the room. "And what can I do for you, my dear? A drink, perhaps?"
She chuckled. "I'm not your dear. But I'll take the drink. And some information."
"Of course. Over here." He gestured towards the bar, and she followed. She brushed off several opening moves from young hotshots who had no idea what they were aiming for. She supposed that went with the territory. That was part of the reason she was annoyed at having to come down here. If Ace had been hiding at some dive, she could have thrown on any old thing and her trusty Sternsnacht Python and been done with it. But no, he had to go hunting somewhere on the social radar. That meant she had to get all dressed up, and that, in turn, meant beating the boys off with a stick. That was the price you paid when you had to go to a meat market.
She reached the bar and settled on a spot between a pair of young ladies that she pegged as rich girls out for a good time on the town. The bartender had made his way behind the bar and over to her. "So, what'll you have?"
"Scotch, single malt, neat."
"You got it"
It was a little past midnight. Probably the worst time to be at a place like this. The music was mixing with the energy of the crowd, and the alcohol was just at the peak level that deals were about to be made for the evening. Now was when she needed to make the intercept.
"There you go. Now what else can I help you with?"
"I'm looking for a friend of mine that came down here tonight. You probably spotted him as 4TCR and a mechwarrior." She figured he wouldn't be trying to hide either of those two facts on a night out like tonight.
"Yeah, he headed to the upper level a while back. Shouldn't be too hard to find."
She thanked the barkeep and took her drink with her, navigating the throng of eager young club goers, and worked her way up the stairs to the upper level. She scanned the room, eyes sliding over the nameless crowd. She found her quarry on the far side of the room. Ace had a drink in his hand, and a pair of what looked to be very eager women flanking him.
She made her way across the room. "You can be a hard one to track down" She slid her arm between Ace and the girl on his left, coaxing the girl away, sliding her arm around him and giving off her best possessive vibe. "Sorry ladies, this one's taken for tonight. Good hunting."
The looks she got from the girls were not pleasant, but they knew better than to force the issue. Ace took a sip of his drink, a Scotch if she knew anything. "Marking your territory? Something I should know?"
Faith chuckled softly. "It's a meat market. Better to let them think I stole their meal than to get into a pissing contest with them".
He laughed. "I thought I was the one doing the shopping. Apparently I was on the menu?"
"Whatever suits your ego. But come on, you can score a piece of townie ass any day. I wanted to catch you before we lift-off for Bacum." He pondered her words for a second, then gave her a pat on the shoulder.
"Ok, but not in here on the 'meat market' as you call it. Let's catch some air."
The pair made their way out to the club's balcony, which gave a fairly good view of the riverfront that ran through the heart of the city. There was still a fair amount of hustle and bustle, but here from the backside of the club, the view faced away from the more chaotic social district. Ace leaned on the railing.
"So, what's this talk that the little lady hunted me down for?"
She smiled and paused, taking in the cool air, a stark contrast from the heat of the club, giving her goosebumps on her bare arms. "Right to the point, eh?"
"Hey, you're the one that interrupted my pleasure cruise"
"Don't play the pity card, you know I'm too much of a hard ass for that, Ace. But with us getting ready to ship out for Bacum, I wanted to make sure everything was cool."
"Yeah. Well, it has to be. Nothing any of us can do but move on to the next gig"
The sentiment was fine, but the tone in his voice was not. "Look, you know there's nothing you could have done. At the end of the day, we're warriors fighting for money. This kind of stuff is bound to happen."
"Maybe. But still. It doesn't take the sting away any. I still don't even know how to take it. That's a big chunk of the unit that's gone. I mean it's one thing to lose people in battle. You expect the occasional empty spot in the battle line, new mech in the mech bay. But this time they left on their own, and none of us even saw it coming."
She rubbed her hand over his back. "And we still don't know the whole story. But I have people looking into that. But if we're heading back to the front, we need you guys at the top to be on your game. No second guessing or doubting."
He smiled. "Easier said than done. But yeah, we'll be ok."
She put her arm around him and rested her head against his shoulder. "Hey, this unit is family. And we've all got your back. Elijah splitting off was a big bump in the road, but at the end of the day, 4TCR always comes back together. I went off to Solaris, but come game time, I came back. People come, people go."
"You got all dolled up to come give me a pep talk?"
"Hey, I'm not all badass in a battlemech all the time. A girl takes any excuse she can to get 'all dolled up', as you call it. Besides, I'm a Lady now, have to be seen among the commoners sometime, right?"
He chuckled. "You talk like that's a title of nobility and not a title of ass kicking."
"Hey, I worked for my title, and it made me more money than fighting the good fight ever will. You should have come, we could have had great times on that town."
"Well, we have to head off to 'fight the good fight' tomorrow, but the night is still young, we can raise some hell in this town."
She gave him a playful punch on the shoulder. "Thought you'd never ask, Ace."
Tara
Altorra, Sian Commonality
Capellan Confederation
4 March, 3050
It was an average night at the Cataphract. The club was relatively full with patrons, the upper middle class of Altorran society. ever since the Fourth Tau Ceti Rangers had made their base of operations there, the capital city had undergone something of a rebirth. The influx of money had invigorated the population, and clubs had popped up across all social strata. This, though, was not the kind of place she would have expected to find her quarry.
The Cataphract was a club for the young crowd. The drinks were relatively cheap, and the music was loud. It was a hot spot for the local single scene, and no doubt there were a few mechwarrior groupies there. Her time on Solaris had let Faith spot the groupies a mile off. Some people liked them. Some just used them. She had never had much use at all for them, and neither, she thought, did her boss. And yet here she was, tracking him down.
A young man, obviously a server or bartender of some kind, intercepted her as she moved through the room. "And what can I do for you, my dear? A drink, perhaps?"
She chuckled. "I'm not your dear. But I'll take the drink. And some information."
"Of course. Over here." He gestured towards the bar, and she followed. She brushed off several opening moves from young hotshots who had no idea what they were aiming for. She supposed that went with the territory. That was part of the reason she was annoyed at having to come down here. If Ace had been hiding at some dive, she could have thrown on any old thing and her trusty Sternsnacht Python and been done with it. But no, he had to go hunting somewhere on the social radar. That meant she had to get all dressed up, and that, in turn, meant beating the boys off with a stick. That was the price you paid when you had to go to a meat market.
She reached the bar and settled on a spot between a pair of young ladies that she pegged as rich girls out for a good time on the town. The bartender had made his way behind the bar and over to her. "So, what'll you have?"
"Scotch, single malt, neat."
"You got it"
It was a little past midnight. Probably the worst time to be at a place like this. The music was mixing with the energy of the crowd, and the alcohol was just at the peak level that deals were about to be made for the evening. Now was when she needed to make the intercept.
"There you go. Now what else can I help you with?"
"I'm looking for a friend of mine that came down here tonight. You probably spotted him as 4TCR and a mechwarrior." She figured he wouldn't be trying to hide either of those two facts on a night out like tonight.
"Yeah, he headed to the upper level a while back. Shouldn't be too hard to find."
She thanked the barkeep and took her drink with her, navigating the throng of eager young club goers, and worked her way up the stairs to the upper level. She scanned the room, eyes sliding over the nameless crowd. She found her quarry on the far side of the room. Ace had a drink in his hand, and a pair of what looked to be very eager women flanking him.
She made her way across the room. "You can be a hard one to track down" She slid her arm between Ace and the girl on his left, coaxing the girl away, sliding her arm around him and giving off her best possessive vibe. "Sorry ladies, this one's taken for tonight. Good hunting."
The looks she got from the girls were not pleasant, but they knew better than to force the issue. Ace took a sip of his drink, a Scotch if she knew anything. "Marking your territory? Something I should know?"
Faith chuckled softly. "It's a meat market. Better to let them think I stole their meal than to get into a pissing contest with them".
He laughed. "I thought I was the one doing the shopping. Apparently I was on the menu?"
"Whatever suits your ego. But come on, you can score a piece of townie ass any day. I wanted to catch you before we lift-off for Bacum." He pondered her words for a second, then gave her a pat on the shoulder.
"Ok, but not in here on the 'meat market' as you call it. Let's catch some air."
The pair made their way out to the club's balcony, which gave a fairly good view of the riverfront that ran through the heart of the city. There was still a fair amount of hustle and bustle, but here from the backside of the club, the view faced away from the more chaotic social district. Ace leaned on the railing.
"So, what's this talk that the little lady hunted me down for?"
She smiled and paused, taking in the cool air, a stark contrast from the heat of the club, giving her goosebumps on her bare arms. "Right to the point, eh?"
"Hey, you're the one that interrupted my pleasure cruise"
"Don't play the pity card, you know I'm too much of a hard ass for that, Ace. But with us getting ready to ship out for Bacum, I wanted to make sure everything was cool."
"Yeah. Well, it has to be. Nothing any of us can do but move on to the next gig"
The sentiment was fine, but the tone in his voice was not. "Look, you know there's nothing you could have done. At the end of the day, we're warriors fighting for money. This kind of stuff is bound to happen."
"Maybe. But still. It doesn't take the sting away any. I still don't even know how to take it. That's a big chunk of the unit that's gone. I mean it's one thing to lose people in battle. You expect the occasional empty spot in the battle line, new mech in the mech bay. But this time they left on their own, and none of us even saw it coming."
She rubbed her hand over his back. "And we still don't know the whole story. But I have people looking into that. But if we're heading back to the front, we need you guys at the top to be on your game. No second guessing or doubting."
He smiled. "Easier said than done. But yeah, we'll be ok."
She put her arm around him and rested her head against his shoulder. "Hey, this unit is family. And we've all got your back. Elijah splitting off was a big bump in the road, but at the end of the day, 4TCR always comes back together. I went off to Solaris, but come game time, I came back. People come, people go."
"You got all dolled up to come give me a pep talk?"
"Hey, I'm not all badass in a battlemech all the time. A girl takes any excuse she can to get 'all dolled up', as you call it. Besides, I'm a Lady now, have to be seen among the commoners sometime, right?"
He chuckled. "You talk like that's a title of nobility and not a title of ass kicking."
"Hey, I worked for my title, and it made me more money than fighting the good fight ever will. You should have come, we could have had great times on that town."
"Well, we have to head off to 'fight the good fight' tomorrow, but the night is still young, we can raise some hell in this town."
She gave him a playful punch on the shoulder. "Thought you'd never ask, Ace."
Wednesday, March 4, 2015
The Factory, Solaris City
Solaris VII
Lyran Commonwealth
24 April, 3049
Pushing through the crowd of reporters, fans, and hangers-on, Faith could still feel the pounding of adrenaline in her head. "Faith, how does it feel to have earned a wild card berth in the second division?"
"Fucking amazing!"
"Any response to Peter Faulkner's assertions that your win was, to quote him, cheap?"
"I don't have anything to say to that motherfucking cuntscraper. He tried to gauss me in the back and I made him look like the little shit that he is. I won. He lost. As we like to say, GGCLOSE. That's all for now."
She slammed the locker room door shut and let out a laugh. "God, that was better than sex."
"Maybe you're having bad sex." an unfamiliar voice rang out. Faith glanced in the direction of the voice. A raven-haired woman, dressed all in black, stood against the wall.
"Who the hell are you?" Faith retorted.
"A friend. A scout. An asset. People call me Cat."
"Yeah, well, Cat, this girl is hitting the town. Not sure what you want, but it will have to wait."
The woman didn't move. Faith put her hands on her hips. "Ok, what do you want?"
"Right now, nothing. You're going to hit the town, I'll watch your back. Along the way, maybe we can talk."
She didn't know why, but there was just something in this woman that Faith trusted. Or maybe she just wanted to trust. "So what's your angle?"
The woman finally moved from her initial position, walking slightly closer. She absolutely exuded confidence, she knew what she was doing and wasn't afraid to let other people know it. "You'll find out. And you'll find out that it's not as nefarious as you're probably thinking. For now, you want to celebrate, go celebrate."
Shaking her head, Faith headed to the showers, and then to enjoy the spoils of her victory.
Solaris Hilton, Solaris City, International Quarter
Solaris VII
Lyran Commonwealth
25 April, 3049
Faith slowly became aware of the fact that her eyes were open. She blinked a few times, trying to comprehend what she was looking at. It was a sea of white, with a vast array of lines, waves, and shadows. And that was when it suddenly hit her. She was staring at the ceiling.
All at once she became aware of herself. Her head was pounding with pain, each beat of her heart sending a pulse of pain through her skull. She was laying on her back, on a bed from the feel of it. The air was cold. She had nothing covering her, and the subtle airflow of the room started prickling against her skin.
"You're finally awake, I see." She recognized the voice. She wasn't totally sure from where yet. The entire night was a blur. She had various bits and pieces floating around in her head, images, faces, thoughts, sensations. She tried to remember back to when it all started. Then it hit her, the woman's voice was that of the extremely persistent woman she had met after the match.
"Wha...what are you doing here?" Faith rolled her head from side to side, trying to get her bearings. She was in her own suite at the Solaris Hilton, she recognized it. She also spotted Cat sitting comfortably in a chair off in the corner.
"I told you I would have your back, and I did. Nobody left with any incriminating photos or video or anything like that. What happens on Solaris stays on Solaris."
Slowly, painfully, Faith lifted herself onto her elbows, trying to shake away the haze in her mind. "Did I have a good time, at least?"
"You're the one waking up hungover and topless at 11:30 in the morning, you tell me."
"Point taken. Look, I don't need a lecture if that's what you're getting ready for." She sat up, wondering if there were any muscles in her body that weren't sore at the moment. She cast about quickly and grabbed a tank top, pulling it on quickly before pulling her legs up underneath her.
"That's not what I'm here for, I assure you." The woman paused for a moment, then stood up. "Look, you've got talent. You're going to win lots of fame, glory, money, and all that here. But a year from now, you're going to be back on the battlefield. It's just who you are."
She couldn't deny that. This trip to Solaris was on a whim. She didn't know how long she was going to be here, but she knew that her real place was on the battlefield, fighting back the Federated Suns. Fighting real fights.
"So, you're going to be here for six months or a year. You can either survive this town, or you can ride this town for all it's worth. At the end of it, you go back to the battlefield, but you have a network of people, information, favors. You leave this place stronger than you came here. And that is my angle. You're smart, and you can take care of yourself. I like to have a network of people like that. You become part of it, we both win."
What Cat was saying made sense. "So what's the catch? What do I have to do that I'm not already doing?" The answer to that question would determine how she was going to spend the next few months on Solaris.
"Live the life, but live it smart. Last night you just met hangers-on and nobodies. As you win matches, you'll start partying with money, nobles, politicians, even spies. That's where it gets fun. And that's where I come in. I know some of the players, some of the game. I'd like to be the one to help you out. But it's your call."
"Well, you earned you pay last night. So yeah, we'll see where this goes"
Solaris VII
Lyran Commonwealth
24 April, 3049
Pushing through the crowd of reporters, fans, and hangers-on, Faith could still feel the pounding of adrenaline in her head. "Faith, how does it feel to have earned a wild card berth in the second division?"
"Fucking amazing!"
"Any response to Peter Faulkner's assertions that your win was, to quote him, cheap?"
"I don't have anything to say to that motherfucking cuntscraper. He tried to gauss me in the back and I made him look like the little shit that he is. I won. He lost. As we like to say, GGCLOSE. That's all for now."
She slammed the locker room door shut and let out a laugh. "God, that was better than sex."
"Maybe you're having bad sex." an unfamiliar voice rang out. Faith glanced in the direction of the voice. A raven-haired woman, dressed all in black, stood against the wall.
"Who the hell are you?" Faith retorted.
"A friend. A scout. An asset. People call me Cat."
"Yeah, well, Cat, this girl is hitting the town. Not sure what you want, but it will have to wait."
The woman didn't move. Faith put her hands on her hips. "Ok, what do you want?"
"Right now, nothing. You're going to hit the town, I'll watch your back. Along the way, maybe we can talk."
She didn't know why, but there was just something in this woman that Faith trusted. Or maybe she just wanted to trust. "So what's your angle?"
The woman finally moved from her initial position, walking slightly closer. She absolutely exuded confidence, she knew what she was doing and wasn't afraid to let other people know it. "You'll find out. And you'll find out that it's not as nefarious as you're probably thinking. For now, you want to celebrate, go celebrate."
Shaking her head, Faith headed to the showers, and then to enjoy the spoils of her victory.
Solaris Hilton, Solaris City, International Quarter
Solaris VII
Lyran Commonwealth
25 April, 3049
Faith slowly became aware of the fact that her eyes were open. She blinked a few times, trying to comprehend what she was looking at. It was a sea of white, with a vast array of lines, waves, and shadows. And that was when it suddenly hit her. She was staring at the ceiling.
All at once she became aware of herself. Her head was pounding with pain, each beat of her heart sending a pulse of pain through her skull. She was laying on her back, on a bed from the feel of it. The air was cold. She had nothing covering her, and the subtle airflow of the room started prickling against her skin.
"You're finally awake, I see." She recognized the voice. She wasn't totally sure from where yet. The entire night was a blur. She had various bits and pieces floating around in her head, images, faces, thoughts, sensations. She tried to remember back to when it all started. Then it hit her, the woman's voice was that of the extremely persistent woman she had met after the match.
"Wha...what are you doing here?" Faith rolled her head from side to side, trying to get her bearings. She was in her own suite at the Solaris Hilton, she recognized it. She also spotted Cat sitting comfortably in a chair off in the corner.
"I told you I would have your back, and I did. Nobody left with any incriminating photos or video or anything like that. What happens on Solaris stays on Solaris."
Slowly, painfully, Faith lifted herself onto her elbows, trying to shake away the haze in her mind. "Did I have a good time, at least?"
"You're the one waking up hungover and topless at 11:30 in the morning, you tell me."
"Point taken. Look, I don't need a lecture if that's what you're getting ready for." She sat up, wondering if there were any muscles in her body that weren't sore at the moment. She cast about quickly and grabbed a tank top, pulling it on quickly before pulling her legs up underneath her.
"That's not what I'm here for, I assure you." The woman paused for a moment, then stood up. "Look, you've got talent. You're going to win lots of fame, glory, money, and all that here. But a year from now, you're going to be back on the battlefield. It's just who you are."
She couldn't deny that. This trip to Solaris was on a whim. She didn't know how long she was going to be here, but she knew that her real place was on the battlefield, fighting back the Federated Suns. Fighting real fights.
"So, you're going to be here for six months or a year. You can either survive this town, or you can ride this town for all it's worth. At the end of it, you go back to the battlefield, but you have a network of people, information, favors. You leave this place stronger than you came here. And that is my angle. You're smart, and you can take care of yourself. I like to have a network of people like that. You become part of it, we both win."
What Cat was saying made sense. "So what's the catch? What do I have to do that I'm not already doing?" The answer to that question would determine how she was going to spend the next few months on Solaris.
"Live the life, but live it smart. Last night you just met hangers-on and nobodies. As you win matches, you'll start partying with money, nobles, politicians, even spies. That's where it gets fun. And that's where I come in. I know some of the players, some of the game. I'd like to be the one to help you out. But it's your call."
"Well, you earned you pay last night. So yeah, we'll see where this goes"
Friday, February 27, 2015
The Factory, Solaris City
Solaris VII
Lyran Commonwealth
24 April, 3049
The initial thunder of the crowd died down after the first few minutes. The arena was set up for a free-for-all. Twelve mechs would enter, and only one would be standing at the end. It was a meatgrinder, nothing else, designed to determine who belonged here and who didn't. And she was out to prove that she belonged.
The sounds of weapons fire could be heard in the distance. No doubt some of the contestants had just run headlong into the fight. That was not going to be the way to win this fight. Controlled aggression, with the emphasis on the control part.
Her sensors gave her no blips, but with all the metals, power lines, and god knows what else running through the arena, that was no surprise. There were bound to be a few surprises along the way.
From behind a pile of scrap, a Firestarter darted out into the open, lancing out ruby beams from it's pulse lasers as it ran. The pilot was not a good aim, with only a few of the beams catching armor on the right leg of her machine. She saw a sword and sunburst painted on the right breast of the machine, explaining the poor aim. Instinct kicked in, and she thumbed the trigger for the ultra autocannons housed in Gunnar's torso. The stream of projectiles struck the hapless Firestarter square in the torso, staggering it and slowing it's progress just enough for what she needed.
"Gotcha, Davrat." she spouted. The slowing of momentum on the enemy mech was just what she needed, and she squeezed off a burst from her quad medium lasers. The beams hit their mark, just as she intended, all scouring the light mech's right leg, tearing through the armor and into the structure beneath, melting actuators and myomer and gimping the normally agile mech.
That was all the opening she needed. A double tap of the autocannon trigger spun the ultras up to full speed. The fifty millimeter slugs sprayed out at twice their normal speed, slamming into the Firestarter's torso, eating through it's light armor, and throwing the mech to the ground. The mechwarrior within knew he was bested, and slapped the shutdown button, signaling his capitulation and removing his mech as a target on her screen.
The thrill of victory pulsed through her veins. She had tasted blood, and now she wanted more. A quick check of her HUD showed that three other mechs had already fallen. Only eight competitors remained.
As she rounded a corner, she saw two competitors locked in a fight. An Atlas had lost it's right torso, and was desperately trying to shield it's damaged components as an Orion continued to savage it with lasers. The Orion had taken a beating, but the Atlas was the one that was far worse for wear.
Depressing both triggers, Faith sent green beams at the Orion along with the stream of slugs from the autocannons. They tore armor from the blocky torso of the Orion, sending it slightly off balance, and perfectly into the sights of the Atlas. A wave of short range missiles smashed into the Orion, exploiting the holes Faith's attack had opened, along with the damage from previous exchanges with the Atlas. It was all the ammo stored in the Orion's bins needed to start cooking off, popping and tearing bits of the mech off, spraying wildly into the distance as the mech fell to the ground.
She wasted absolutely no time turning on the wounded Atlas. She fired off an alpha strike, not worrying about the heat. There would be time to cool off later. She glanced at the readout for the ammo bins on her autocannons. They were sitting at about half full, plenty for this match. In the time it took to glance at the ammo readout, her mech was shaken by a blast of SRMs from the wounded Atlas. Her alpha strike had not put the mech down, nor had it taken out it's short range punch. That had to happen, and fast.
She hit the trigger for her lasers, carving into the exposed innards of the Atlas's torso. She hit engine shielding, and she could see the flash as the engine started to bloom. Simultaneously, the wave of heat from her own weapons fire hit her, nearly knocking the air from her lungs, seeing black spots in her vision as she tried to focus herself on the HUD.
The engine safeties on the Atlas kicked in, shutting the engine down and sending the mech into a slumber. Another opponent down for the count. A quick glance at the readout showed 3 opponents left standing. No, make that two, as one light winked out, coinciding with a roar from the crowd, signaling that another opponent had succumb to the rigors of combat. Now she only had to find the remaining two combatants and finish them off.
Her mech lurched forward and alarms screamed in her ears, signaling that one of the two other mechs left standing had found her instead. Unfortunately, it seemed that they had found her with two nickel ferrous Gauss rifle slugs to her rear torso. Luckily, the internal structure had held, and the engine was wholly intact. She had to spin quickly though to avoid another blast to the rear of her mech.
The enemy mech was a JagerMech, and if it was equipped with dual gauss rifles, it was probably packing an XL engine. This pilot was going for cheese and quick kills. That could be his undoing. She was about to line up a shot on the Jager, when the other mech still on the field appeared, a smoldering Enforcer. It wouldn't take more than one salvo to finish off this hapless opponent. Then, an idea came into her head. One that would play perfectly to the crowd, and here on Solaris, the crowd was everything.
Pushing the throttle hard forward, she sent her mech into an all-out charge towards the enemy JagerMech. The Jager pilot tried to line up a shot, and as he did, autocannon rounds began to pepper the back of her mech. She smiled. It was unfolding just the way she wanted. At that moment, she dropped her mech to the ground, prone.
Above her, the Jager fired, and the Enforcer continued it's barrage. The gauss rifles from the JagerMech demolished the upper torso of the Enforcer, and as it died, it's autocannon rounds tore chunks of armor away from the already weakened side torso of the Jager. It was just the opening Faith needed. She yanked upwards on the joystick, pivoting her K2's arms upwards. She could only hit with 2 medium lasers, but she was betting it was enough. She jabbed the trigger, sending dual green beams into the heart of the Jager. It was just what she needed. The energy pulses cored into the bulky engine of the Jager, sending it spasming backwards.
"And look at that, mech fans, what a move. In one fell swoop, Faith McCarron got her opponents to do the dirty work for her, and cleaned up like a pro. That is how you qualify for a spot in the real show as a wild card, my friends."
Solaris VII
Lyran Commonwealth
24 April, 3049
The initial thunder of the crowd died down after the first few minutes. The arena was set up for a free-for-all. Twelve mechs would enter, and only one would be standing at the end. It was a meatgrinder, nothing else, designed to determine who belonged here and who didn't. And she was out to prove that she belonged.
The sounds of weapons fire could be heard in the distance. No doubt some of the contestants had just run headlong into the fight. That was not going to be the way to win this fight. Controlled aggression, with the emphasis on the control part.
Her sensors gave her no blips, but with all the metals, power lines, and god knows what else running through the arena, that was no surprise. There were bound to be a few surprises along the way.
From behind a pile of scrap, a Firestarter darted out into the open, lancing out ruby beams from it's pulse lasers as it ran. The pilot was not a good aim, with only a few of the beams catching armor on the right leg of her machine. She saw a sword and sunburst painted on the right breast of the machine, explaining the poor aim. Instinct kicked in, and she thumbed the trigger for the ultra autocannons housed in Gunnar's torso. The stream of projectiles struck the hapless Firestarter square in the torso, staggering it and slowing it's progress just enough for what she needed.
"Gotcha, Davrat." she spouted. The slowing of momentum on the enemy mech was just what she needed, and she squeezed off a burst from her quad medium lasers. The beams hit their mark, just as she intended, all scouring the light mech's right leg, tearing through the armor and into the structure beneath, melting actuators and myomer and gimping the normally agile mech.
That was all the opening she needed. A double tap of the autocannon trigger spun the ultras up to full speed. The fifty millimeter slugs sprayed out at twice their normal speed, slamming into the Firestarter's torso, eating through it's light armor, and throwing the mech to the ground. The mechwarrior within knew he was bested, and slapped the shutdown button, signaling his capitulation and removing his mech as a target on her screen.
The thrill of victory pulsed through her veins. She had tasted blood, and now she wanted more. A quick check of her HUD showed that three other mechs had already fallen. Only eight competitors remained.
As she rounded a corner, she saw two competitors locked in a fight. An Atlas had lost it's right torso, and was desperately trying to shield it's damaged components as an Orion continued to savage it with lasers. The Orion had taken a beating, but the Atlas was the one that was far worse for wear.
Depressing both triggers, Faith sent green beams at the Orion along with the stream of slugs from the autocannons. They tore armor from the blocky torso of the Orion, sending it slightly off balance, and perfectly into the sights of the Atlas. A wave of short range missiles smashed into the Orion, exploiting the holes Faith's attack had opened, along with the damage from previous exchanges with the Atlas. It was all the ammo stored in the Orion's bins needed to start cooking off, popping and tearing bits of the mech off, spraying wildly into the distance as the mech fell to the ground.
She wasted absolutely no time turning on the wounded Atlas. She fired off an alpha strike, not worrying about the heat. There would be time to cool off later. She glanced at the readout for the ammo bins on her autocannons. They were sitting at about half full, plenty for this match. In the time it took to glance at the ammo readout, her mech was shaken by a blast of SRMs from the wounded Atlas. Her alpha strike had not put the mech down, nor had it taken out it's short range punch. That had to happen, and fast.
She hit the trigger for her lasers, carving into the exposed innards of the Atlas's torso. She hit engine shielding, and she could see the flash as the engine started to bloom. Simultaneously, the wave of heat from her own weapons fire hit her, nearly knocking the air from her lungs, seeing black spots in her vision as she tried to focus herself on the HUD.
The engine safeties on the Atlas kicked in, shutting the engine down and sending the mech into a slumber. Another opponent down for the count. A quick glance at the readout showed 3 opponents left standing. No, make that two, as one light winked out, coinciding with a roar from the crowd, signaling that another opponent had succumb to the rigors of combat. Now she only had to find the remaining two combatants and finish them off.
Her mech lurched forward and alarms screamed in her ears, signaling that one of the two other mechs left standing had found her instead. Unfortunately, it seemed that they had found her with two nickel ferrous Gauss rifle slugs to her rear torso. Luckily, the internal structure had held, and the engine was wholly intact. She had to spin quickly though to avoid another blast to the rear of her mech.
The enemy mech was a JagerMech, and if it was equipped with dual gauss rifles, it was probably packing an XL engine. This pilot was going for cheese and quick kills. That could be his undoing. She was about to line up a shot on the Jager, when the other mech still on the field appeared, a smoldering Enforcer. It wouldn't take more than one salvo to finish off this hapless opponent. Then, an idea came into her head. One that would play perfectly to the crowd, and here on Solaris, the crowd was everything.
Pushing the throttle hard forward, she sent her mech into an all-out charge towards the enemy JagerMech. The Jager pilot tried to line up a shot, and as he did, autocannon rounds began to pepper the back of her mech. She smiled. It was unfolding just the way she wanted. At that moment, she dropped her mech to the ground, prone.
Above her, the Jager fired, and the Enforcer continued it's barrage. The gauss rifles from the JagerMech demolished the upper torso of the Enforcer, and as it died, it's autocannon rounds tore chunks of armor away from the already weakened side torso of the Jager. It was just the opening Faith needed. She yanked upwards on the joystick, pivoting her K2's arms upwards. She could only hit with 2 medium lasers, but she was betting it was enough. She jabbed the trigger, sending dual green beams into the heart of the Jager. It was just what she needed. The energy pulses cored into the bulky engine of the Jager, sending it spasming backwards.
"And look at that, mech fans, what a move. In one fell swoop, Faith McCarron got her opponents to do the dirty work for her, and cleaned up like a pro. That is how you qualify for a spot in the real show as a wild card, my friends."
Thursday, February 26, 2015
The Factory, Solaris City
Solaris VII
Lyran Commonwealth
24 April, 3049
"Tonight we have a treat for you, Mech fans. This is Duncan Fisher, here to bring you the call from downtown Solaris City, as the spring season opens on the gaming circuit. You know all the players from last year, but there's an incoming crop of young hotshots looking to make a name for thmeselves, and they'll be battling it out with one another tonight."
"The Factory has been chosen for this year's open qualifier, and boy, is this one shaping up to be a good one. There are several newcomers looking for stables, and the relative peace around the Inner Sphere has seen an influx of combat veterans looking to make a name, not to mention some money, for themselves."
Though she tried to tune it out, the array of monitors pumping in the broadcast feed made it nearly impossible for Faith to ignore the commentary introduction for the upcoming match. This was a totally new animal for her. She had seen some combat with the CCAF, but here on Solaris, this was where a person could make a name for themselves. Or die trying.
She had found it relatively easy to get her name on the list for the open qualifier. The Game World always needed a fresh influx of new talent, or new bodies for the meatgrinder. She had a mech and a feisty personality, that was practically red meat to promoters here on Solaris. As far as they were concerned, if she made it, great. If not, no big loss, there were probably a hundred more waiting behind her for a shot.
But tonight was her shot, and no one else's. She had looked over the fight card for tonight, and she knew she could take any of the pilots out there. She had watched film on them all, and they were scrubs. They were meat for the meat grinder. But not her. She was going to come out on top. She had to, it was her way.
She thought back to her childhood, all those lacrosse matches, the crowd, the thrill of victory. Of course, the consequences of defeat were order of magnitude more harsh here, but the adrenaline rush was the same. Win at all costs. There was no other option.
Speaking of adrenaline, she felt the pre-rush running through her veins, mixed with the chill of the room. Wearing only her mesh shorts and tank top, with knee length boots and her cooling vest still open and inactive, the almost antiseptic chill of the locker room reached almost into a person's soul.
She looked down at the small line of white powder on the steel table. The Game World was no-holds-barred. There was no such thing as drug testing or doping scandals here on Solaris. If it got you though the match, power to you. This particular mix she had gotten from a Warrior House veteran on a campaign some years ago. A mixture of psycho-stimulants and opiates, it had gotten her though many a battlefield, giving her an edge and a focus that could mean the difference between life and death. Of course, all the medical evidence said it would take years off her life, turn her into a junkie, or make her heart explode one day, but the odds were that a Gauss rifle round was going to do that long before this cocktail would.
With one quick motion, she inhaled the powder and closed her eyes, holding her breath for a few seconds as she felt the hit coursing through her body.
"And a recent addition to the newcomer stable House of Lords, Faith McCarron is a feisty little blonde from the Capellan Confederation. With all the power of an armored cavalry regiment in a petite package, and with a mouth that could make a Canopian blush, only time will tell if this little Valkyrie will make a name for herself, or flame out like so many here on the game world. And that's your lineup for tonight, Mech fans. The mechs are warming up in the bays, and it's almost Factory Time! We'll be back in a moment, after a word from this season's sponsor, Timbiqui Spirits!"
She could feel the energy building inside her. She blinked a few times for focus, and then pushed her way through the door of the locker room to the hallway that would lead to the mech bay. There was a small crowd of reporters and cameras that immediately snapped their focus to her, and follwed her every step as her boots clicked on the ferrocrete floor. She tuned them all out, a kind of tunnel vision leading her straight ahead down the corridor and into the cavernous mech bay.
As she entered, she saw the familiar hulking form of her K2 Catapult, "Gunnar". He was still emblazoned with the colors of the 4th Tau Ceti Rangers, armor pristine and unmarred, the stylized numeral "4" emblazoned for all to see. But now he also carried the almost mocking logo of the House of Lords stables alongside it, letting any and all opponents know that tangling with this machine and the Lady within was a loss before they even took the field. And today she would prove it.
She climbed the ladder to the cockpit and secured herself in the command couch, closing and plugging in her cooling vest, donning her neurohelmet, and flipping the switches that brought her Catapult from it's slumber. As the fusion reactor hummed to life, the metallic chill of the cockpit was replaced by an almost gentle warmth engulfing her. Now she was locked safe inside her machine. The time to do damage was almost here.
After receiving the proper clearances from the stadium techs, she slowly walked the machine down the cavernous corridor to the appointed doorway where she would make her entrance. After what seemed like an eternity, the massive doors slid open, revealing the arena. Walking slowly out into the combat zone, she felt all the familiar sensations of approaching combat, but this time was different. There was one massive addition to the experience. Even strapped into her mech, protected by sixty-five tons of armor and weapons, she could hear, and feel the roar of the crowd. It was one more level added to the high of combat. The match was on.
Solaris VII
Lyran Commonwealth
24 April, 3049
"Tonight we have a treat for you, Mech fans. This is Duncan Fisher, here to bring you the call from downtown Solaris City, as the spring season opens on the gaming circuit. You know all the players from last year, but there's an incoming crop of young hotshots looking to make a name for thmeselves, and they'll be battling it out with one another tonight."
"The Factory has been chosen for this year's open qualifier, and boy, is this one shaping up to be a good one. There are several newcomers looking for stables, and the relative peace around the Inner Sphere has seen an influx of combat veterans looking to make a name, not to mention some money, for themselves."
Though she tried to tune it out, the array of monitors pumping in the broadcast feed made it nearly impossible for Faith to ignore the commentary introduction for the upcoming match. This was a totally new animal for her. She had seen some combat with the CCAF, but here on Solaris, this was where a person could make a name for themselves. Or die trying.
She had found it relatively easy to get her name on the list for the open qualifier. The Game World always needed a fresh influx of new talent, or new bodies for the meatgrinder. She had a mech and a feisty personality, that was practically red meat to promoters here on Solaris. As far as they were concerned, if she made it, great. If not, no big loss, there were probably a hundred more waiting behind her for a shot.
But tonight was her shot, and no one else's. She had looked over the fight card for tonight, and she knew she could take any of the pilots out there. She had watched film on them all, and they were scrubs. They were meat for the meat grinder. But not her. She was going to come out on top. She had to, it was her way.
She thought back to her childhood, all those lacrosse matches, the crowd, the thrill of victory. Of course, the consequences of defeat were order of magnitude more harsh here, but the adrenaline rush was the same. Win at all costs. There was no other option.
Speaking of adrenaline, she felt the pre-rush running through her veins, mixed with the chill of the room. Wearing only her mesh shorts and tank top, with knee length boots and her cooling vest still open and inactive, the almost antiseptic chill of the locker room reached almost into a person's soul.
She looked down at the small line of white powder on the steel table. The Game World was no-holds-barred. There was no such thing as drug testing or doping scandals here on Solaris. If it got you though the match, power to you. This particular mix she had gotten from a Warrior House veteran on a campaign some years ago. A mixture of psycho-stimulants and opiates, it had gotten her though many a battlefield, giving her an edge and a focus that could mean the difference between life and death. Of course, all the medical evidence said it would take years off her life, turn her into a junkie, or make her heart explode one day, but the odds were that a Gauss rifle round was going to do that long before this cocktail would.
With one quick motion, she inhaled the powder and closed her eyes, holding her breath for a few seconds as she felt the hit coursing through her body.
"And a recent addition to the newcomer stable House of Lords, Faith McCarron is a feisty little blonde from the Capellan Confederation. With all the power of an armored cavalry regiment in a petite package, and with a mouth that could make a Canopian blush, only time will tell if this little Valkyrie will make a name for herself, or flame out like so many here on the game world. And that's your lineup for tonight, Mech fans. The mechs are warming up in the bays, and it's almost Factory Time! We'll be back in a moment, after a word from this season's sponsor, Timbiqui Spirits!"
She could feel the energy building inside her. She blinked a few times for focus, and then pushed her way through the door of the locker room to the hallway that would lead to the mech bay. There was a small crowd of reporters and cameras that immediately snapped their focus to her, and follwed her every step as her boots clicked on the ferrocrete floor. She tuned them all out, a kind of tunnel vision leading her straight ahead down the corridor and into the cavernous mech bay.
As she entered, she saw the familiar hulking form of her K2 Catapult, "Gunnar". He was still emblazoned with the colors of the 4th Tau Ceti Rangers, armor pristine and unmarred, the stylized numeral "4" emblazoned for all to see. But now he also carried the almost mocking logo of the House of Lords stables alongside it, letting any and all opponents know that tangling with this machine and the Lady within was a loss before they even took the field. And today she would prove it.
She climbed the ladder to the cockpit and secured herself in the command couch, closing and plugging in her cooling vest, donning her neurohelmet, and flipping the switches that brought her Catapult from it's slumber. As the fusion reactor hummed to life, the metallic chill of the cockpit was replaced by an almost gentle warmth engulfing her. Now she was locked safe inside her machine. The time to do damage was almost here.
After receiving the proper clearances from the stadium techs, she slowly walked the machine down the cavernous corridor to the appointed doorway where she would make her entrance. After what seemed like an eternity, the massive doors slid open, revealing the arena. Walking slowly out into the combat zone, she felt all the familiar sensations of approaching combat, but this time was different. There was one massive addition to the experience. Even strapped into her mech, protected by sixty-five tons of armor and weapons, she could hear, and feel the roar of the crowd. It was one more level added to the high of combat. The match was on.
Thursday, February 12, 2015
Capella Prime
Capella
Capellan Confederation
19 January, 3050
It was dark and rainy, pretty much the cliche atmosphere for this sort of thing. The DavRats had their infantry out patrolling the streets, but it was easy enough to blend in. They didn't really care, as long as you weren't shooting at them.
She had already spent more time out roaming the streets searching for the right contacts than she would have liked, but it couldn't be helped. The people she was looking for were nervous right now. With the change in administration of the planet, there would be a feeling out process for the less-than-legal elements of Capella's society. Of course, she was banking on that.
She entered the small restaurant and took a moment to let the rain from outside drip off before proceeding any further. She hadn't thought it possible, but it was darker inside this place than it was out on the street. The booths that lined the outer walls each had their own small lamp to light them, but the main lighting for the room itself was subdued.
A small woman, dressed very traditionally in a dark green robe ushered Faith to a booth and set a small menu in front of her. Faith looked over the menu, even though she didn't need to. "I'll take the General Tso's Chicken" she said, making sure to make brief eye contact with the hostess. At least the owner had a sense of humor, using that ancient Terran dish as the code word. As she handed the menu back to the hostess, she slipped a small piece of paper underneath it. The woman shuffled gracefully off to the back of the establishment.
Faith took a brief moment to survey they room. It was fairly late in the evening now, passing into night time, but there was still a family seated at one booth enjoying their meal. A few other lone patrons dotted the room, all of them looking as if they were actually there for the food. Of course, one never could tell. She, the blonde haired, blue-eyed Caucasian was the one that stuck out like a sore thumb in the Asian establishment.
A few moments later, the hostess returned. "If you would follow me, the Grass Slipper would like a word" Faith followed the woman into a narrow hallway. The hall snaked in several directions, with closed doors off to each side, before finally ending in a flight of descending stairs. At the base of the stairs was a door, guarded by two burly looking men. The guards sized her up briefly, before one opened the door to grant her admission.
The room beyond was opulently decorated in traditional Chinese style. Like everywhere within this establishment, the lighting was subdued, but was subtly raised enough to show the decorations and furnishings. The smell of opium smoke hung in the air. The man she was here to see, the Grass Slipper, clearly wanted visitors to see his wealth and status, even if he was a only mid-level boss in Capella's organized crime scene.
The man himself was of average size, but his dark, almond shaped eyes exuded his leadership and power. His clothing, perfectly tailored, was of the latest fashion trend in the Confederation. He sat back confidently in a large chair at the center of the far wall of the room. The left and right walls each featured several lieutenants or henchmen in their own chairs, a few with women attending to them, and all arranged so that they faced the Grass Slipper.
"What is it that I may do for the armed forces of her most wise Celestial Wisdom, the Chancellor?" His words were practiced, showing the proper deference that all citizens should give to the Chancellor, but at the same time letting Faith know that this was his turf, not the Chancellors.
"I'm looking for someone." She kept it short and sweet, unsure yet of how he planned on playing this out.
"I'm sure I could make arrangements for you with any number of men that could bring you pleasure, but I'm afraid you must be more specific. And I would have though this a bad time for such liaisons, what with the evacuations and such." He smiled wryly, and gestured to a large and plush looking chair that sat in front of him. She accepted his offer and sank back in the chair.
"That is not what I'm looking for. And besides, I don't pay for it."
"Ah, no offense intended, my lady. I merely assumed. But, if not that, what is it that you seek before you leave us here at the mercy of the devil Hanse Davion?" He was playing more patriotic than he needed to, but it didn't bother her.
"You are correct, we will be leaving soon. For a time. But when I leave, there is a certain person that I want to leave with me. I don't have the time or the means of locating her. You do. And so," she said with a smile, "Here I am."
"I am glad that you think so highly of my business. And I assure you, under normal circumstances your request would not be a problem at all. But with the recent unpleasantness, you understand, my resources are taxed."
"I'm sure. And with us leaving, your resources are going to be stretched even thinner. Of course, if I were to leave this planet happy, I might also happen to leave the locations where someone might find all sorts of items he might need to stay in business and keep the Davions off balance."
He perked up at that. "So, Lady McCarron, if I were to find and spirit this person you seek away to you before you leave us, I would find myself in possession of the location of supply dumps of weapons and other things that I might find useful against the occupiers?"
"And you would be in possession of those weapons even after we return to liberate this planet. Which, I'm sure you would recognize, would give you a leg up on anyone that you might happen to be rivals with. You win, I win, the Confederation wins." she waved her hand. "What's not to like?"
He smiled. "Of course, always the Confederation and her Celestial Wisdom above all else. I am certain that we can locate this person that you seek." He snapped his fingers. "Pass along the details to my lieutenant here, and it shall be done. And now, my Lady, may I offer you a parting gift of our Great Tobacco? A finer product you will not find short of Sian itself. Something to encourage you to return in liberation as soon as is possible."
She accepted the pipe from the servant who had appeared, along with the lamp, while the Grass Slipper was speaking. "Don't mind if I do..."
Capella
Capellan Confederation
19 January, 3050
It was dark and rainy, pretty much the cliche atmosphere for this sort of thing. The DavRats had their infantry out patrolling the streets, but it was easy enough to blend in. They didn't really care, as long as you weren't shooting at them.
She had already spent more time out roaming the streets searching for the right contacts than she would have liked, but it couldn't be helped. The people she was looking for were nervous right now. With the change in administration of the planet, there would be a feeling out process for the less-than-legal elements of Capella's society. Of course, she was banking on that.
She entered the small restaurant and took a moment to let the rain from outside drip off before proceeding any further. She hadn't thought it possible, but it was darker inside this place than it was out on the street. The booths that lined the outer walls each had their own small lamp to light them, but the main lighting for the room itself was subdued.
A small woman, dressed very traditionally in a dark green robe ushered Faith to a booth and set a small menu in front of her. Faith looked over the menu, even though she didn't need to. "I'll take the General Tso's Chicken" she said, making sure to make brief eye contact with the hostess. At least the owner had a sense of humor, using that ancient Terran dish as the code word. As she handed the menu back to the hostess, she slipped a small piece of paper underneath it. The woman shuffled gracefully off to the back of the establishment.
Faith took a brief moment to survey they room. It was fairly late in the evening now, passing into night time, but there was still a family seated at one booth enjoying their meal. A few other lone patrons dotted the room, all of them looking as if they were actually there for the food. Of course, one never could tell. She, the blonde haired, blue-eyed Caucasian was the one that stuck out like a sore thumb in the Asian establishment.
A few moments later, the hostess returned. "If you would follow me, the Grass Slipper would like a word" Faith followed the woman into a narrow hallway. The hall snaked in several directions, with closed doors off to each side, before finally ending in a flight of descending stairs. At the base of the stairs was a door, guarded by two burly looking men. The guards sized her up briefly, before one opened the door to grant her admission.
The room beyond was opulently decorated in traditional Chinese style. Like everywhere within this establishment, the lighting was subdued, but was subtly raised enough to show the decorations and furnishings. The smell of opium smoke hung in the air. The man she was here to see, the Grass Slipper, clearly wanted visitors to see his wealth and status, even if he was a only mid-level boss in Capella's organized crime scene.
The man himself was of average size, but his dark, almond shaped eyes exuded his leadership and power. His clothing, perfectly tailored, was of the latest fashion trend in the Confederation. He sat back confidently in a large chair at the center of the far wall of the room. The left and right walls each featured several lieutenants or henchmen in their own chairs, a few with women attending to them, and all arranged so that they faced the Grass Slipper.
"What is it that I may do for the armed forces of her most wise Celestial Wisdom, the Chancellor?" His words were practiced, showing the proper deference that all citizens should give to the Chancellor, but at the same time letting Faith know that this was his turf, not the Chancellors.
"I'm looking for someone." She kept it short and sweet, unsure yet of how he planned on playing this out.
"I'm sure I could make arrangements for you with any number of men that could bring you pleasure, but I'm afraid you must be more specific. And I would have though this a bad time for such liaisons, what with the evacuations and such." He smiled wryly, and gestured to a large and plush looking chair that sat in front of him. She accepted his offer and sank back in the chair.
"That is not what I'm looking for. And besides, I don't pay for it."
"Ah, no offense intended, my lady. I merely assumed. But, if not that, what is it that you seek before you leave us here at the mercy of the devil Hanse Davion?" He was playing more patriotic than he needed to, but it didn't bother her.
"You are correct, we will be leaving soon. For a time. But when I leave, there is a certain person that I want to leave with me. I don't have the time or the means of locating her. You do. And so," she said with a smile, "Here I am."
"I am glad that you think so highly of my business. And I assure you, under normal circumstances your request would not be a problem at all. But with the recent unpleasantness, you understand, my resources are taxed."
"I'm sure. And with us leaving, your resources are going to be stretched even thinner. Of course, if I were to leave this planet happy, I might also happen to leave the locations where someone might find all sorts of items he might need to stay in business and keep the Davions off balance."
He perked up at that. "So, Lady McCarron, if I were to find and spirit this person you seek away to you before you leave us, I would find myself in possession of the location of supply dumps of weapons and other things that I might find useful against the occupiers?"
"And you would be in possession of those weapons even after we return to liberate this planet. Which, I'm sure you would recognize, would give you a leg up on anyone that you might happen to be rivals with. You win, I win, the Confederation wins." she waved her hand. "What's not to like?"
He smiled. "Of course, always the Confederation and her Celestial Wisdom above all else. I am certain that we can locate this person that you seek." He snapped his fingers. "Pass along the details to my lieutenant here, and it shall be done. And now, my Lady, may I offer you a parting gift of our Great Tobacco? A finer product you will not find short of Sian itself. Something to encourage you to return in liberation as soon as is possible."
She accepted the pipe from the servant who had appeared, along with the lamp, while the Grass Slipper was speaking. "Don't mind if I do..."
Wednesday, January 28, 2015
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."
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."
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