Alexander Blackwood

MRCN Strumfänger En route to Concord II Concord system - Free Worlds League May 24, 3031 (Tuesday) ______________________________________________ As Captain Maxwell slammed Jack against the wall, I rushed over to Curie's side. She sagged to the floor, weeping openly, blood trickling between her fingers as she clutched her forehead. I couldn't believe it. We hadn't been in the mess hall for more than ten damn minutes, and already, all hell had broken loose just because of that damn Whitley, the pig-headed fool. "Sweetheart, let me see," I prompted gently, trying to pull her hand away. She winced but allowed me to look at the wound. It wasn't as bad as I'd feared, though it was bleeding profusely. She hiccupped on a sob, her eyes wide and full of fear. I quickly grabbed a napkin off a nearby table, pressing it against the gash. Her hand came up to hold it in place, her fingers trembling. "Shhh, you're gonna be alright," I reassured her softly. "No one's gonna hit you anymore." "Not afraid of hits," Curie hissed, her eyes welling with fresh tears. "But, pain is...scary." Her admission startled me, the words hitting me like a punch in the gut. I'd heard about the crazy incident involving the AI, but I hadn't considered how terrifying it would be for someone reborn like she was to face physical human pain. I held her hands, pressing the napkin against her forehead, and shot a look back at the commotion a few feet away from us. Maxwell was still holding Whitley off the ground, pinning him to the bulkhead with his forearm and biting out words that were too low for me to hear. The anger I could see on the captain's face was formidable, a hair's breadth away from complete and total rage-induced abandon. Whitley, for his part, looked like he was about to pass out. Had it not been for Charles' reverence for non-combatant human life, I questioned whether or not Jack would be breathing at all by now. "Come on. Let's stand you up. You look mighty nice. Never seen you in a dress before," I prompted, trying to make light of the situation. I carefully helped her up, keeping a steady hand on her back and the other maintaining pressure on her forehead. She tipped a faint smile towards me, but it was thin, as if holding onto something fragile. "Th-thank you," she whispered, giving me a tentative smile as her hand still clung tightly to mine. "It's new." As she spoke, she attempted, unsuccessfully, to scrub some of the blood from the high-collared, cable-knit sweater dress, marring the otherwise pristine white fabric with thin smears of dull red. "Well, it still looks absolutely stunning on you," I complimented her, gently prying her blood-streaked hand away from the fabric and encapsulating it within my own. Curie self-consciously pulled her hand away and adjusted her scarf, her fingers working meticulously to reposition the blue fabric just so. Her movements were stiff but precise. "You're...kind," she stuttered, her gaze dropping down to my shoes, then back up to meet mine. A moment later, Captain Maxwell walked over, medical kit in hand, a deeply concerned look on his face. "I'm sorry, Curie," Maxwell apologized, his tone imbued with regret. "Whitley crossed a line. He'll be dealt with. Let me see that cut." She released the napkin from its position pressed against her forehead, revealing a deep gash. The sight of the wound caused a grimace to form on Maxwell's face as he set to work bandaging it. "It's not...not bad," Curie protested, tilting her head to give the captain better access. "Now, don't you go downplaying it. You know we take care of our own here," Charles responded, his voice softer than I was used to hearing. "Is...okay," she offered, her simple words carrying more resilience than a simple nod could capture. Charles dressed her wound in silence, his hand movements practiced and steady. As he finished, he let out a sigh. His eyes never left her face, as if he were trying to ascertain all the pain she might be hiding. He then turned to face me, his gaze stern and focused. "Blackwood, make sure her night isn't ruined, understood?" "You've got it, Captain. Ain't no one gonna bother her anymore," I nodded firmly. "Good," Charles retorted in a gruff tone. He glowered in the direction Whitley had disappeared, then turned back to us, the anger faded from his features and replaced with a look of reassurance. "Go on, then. Don't let this wreck your evening." As the captain walked away, Curie turned to me, her eyes again sparkling in the dimly lit mess hall. I offered her my arm, and with a small, courageous smile, she accepted it. We made our way over to a modest buffet table filled with a variety of hearty meals prepared by the ship's cook. Her eyes lit up as she took in the sight of it all, the gloom from earlier events slowly fading away. "What do you like?" I asked. "Meatloaf," she responded almost instantly, her face filled with excitement at the sight of all the food. I chuckled at her enthusiasm and refreshing innocence. "Meatloaf? I reckon you're one of the only people I know who'd pass up prime rib for ground beef," I teased, flashing her a grin. "It's good!" she defended herself, scrunching up her nose with a defiant smile. "Meatloaf it is, then." I dished up two plates, making sure to heap an extra-large slice on hers. As we settled into a quiet corner of the mess, I found myself strangely at ease with her. For all the strangeness that encompassed her existence, it didn't detract from the raw and unfiltered joy she radiated. As we sat, our conversation flowed easily, with Curie asking questions about my career as a MechWarrior and Aegis Division's exploits. She hung on to every word, her eyes wide with fascination, and I found myself talking more than I usually would, her genuine interest making it easy. Each time she chuckled or showed surprise, I felt a warm sense of satisfaction. Her laughter was infectious, her smile contagious, and her simplicity a breath of fresh air. She was quirky, yes, but she had this vibe that made you want to be around her. However, every once in a while, she would cast quick, paranoid glances at the other staff milling about. "Crowd's a bit overwhelming?" I asked, following her gaze. She nodded, her eyes wide. "So many." "Well, don't you worry," I replied, leaning across the table a little closer. "It's just you, me, and the meatloaf right now. Let the world take care of itself for a while." As we finished our food, the conversation eventually drifted to the subject of my overheating BattleMech, which had been the entire premise for our dinner rendezvous. As the topic was broached, Curie's personality transformed from mirthful and vulnerable to intense and focused. She quizzed me on every aspect of the Catapult, using a data tablet to type out incredibly comprehensive questions ranging from its heat sink configuration and typical battlefield temperatures to the minutiae of my piloting habits. Her questions were probing, insightful, and, if I didn't know better, at the level of a veteran pilot. "I thought you were a medic," I eventually chuckled, tossing my napkin onto the table. "You sure you ain't been moonlighting as a 'Mech engineer?" Curie just shrugged, a faint blush playing on her cheeks. "Science is science," she replied simply, her gaze intense, analytical. "Data is data." Our dinner eventually came to an end, and she stood up clumsily, almost tripping over the chair leg. As she recovered, I found myself fascinated by this woman who could flip from sweetly awkward to razor-sharp intellect in a heartbeat. It wasn't just charm, nor was it purely the novelty of her character; it was something else, something indefinable that resonated within me. "Well," she stammered, "I should go." Her voice was once again very quiet, the confidence gone. "Can I walk you back?" I asked, standing up and offering her my arm. She looked at my arm for a moment, uncertainty flickering across her face before replying. "You don't...know where I live," she said with a small, puzzled smile. But then, as if realizing the absurdity of her response, she chuckled and added, "But...I can...show you." I couldn’t help but laugh at the off-beat charm of the statement. "Well, lead the way," I quipped, extending my elbow as an escort might. Curie delicately latched onto my arm and started to guide me through the steel-laden paths of the ship. Eventually, we reached the crew quarters, where we drew up on a stateroom on the far port end of the corridor. "I have my...own room now," she explained. I raised an eyebrow. "As opposed to...having a roommate?" Curie shook her head. "No. The infirmary." "You lived in the...infirmary?" I clarified. "Used to," she replied with a shrug. "Had to...recover." The way she avoided my eyes told me that whatever had happened, it was probably not something she wanted to discuss. The command staff had filled me in on the details, but I felt it wasn't my place to pry. I just nodded, flashed her a warm smile, and replied, "Well, having your own place has its perks." Curie held my gaze, a softness returning to her eyes. "Want to see it?" she asked. I couldn't help but chuckle. "Ma'am, I just met you, and while that's a mighty generous offer, it may be a little forward." The last thing I wanted was to make her uncomfortable. "Ah," she murmured, her cheeks flushing a soft pink. "Right. That's not..." She paused, struggling for a moment before finally managing to articulate, "I'm not...initiating...sex." I nearly choked on the air I was breathing in an effort to contain my surprise. Clearing my throat, I stammered out, "I - well, I didn't think that you were." "Good," she responded quickly. "I wanted to show you. Plants." "Plants?" I repeated, unable to mask my surprise. She nodded solemnly, her cheeks still a tad red. "Yes. Plants." Intrigued, I followed her as she fumbled with the door controls. As soon as the door slid open, I was shocked at the sterility, tidiness, and barren appearance of the room. It was the polar opposite of what I'd expected and experienced. Most crew quarters existed on a spectrum of messiness, from 'lived-in' to 'post-battlefield.' Bunks were usually awash in personal artifacts, mementos from home, or keepsakes from prior missions. But not Curie's. Save for the unmade bed, the room was pristine, as if nobody lived there at all. I found it both fascinating and a little unsettling. However, I quickly noticed a section of the bunk that was decidedly unlike the rest. There, nestled atop a corner table, was a miniature indoor garden with a striking variety of plants in covered glass terrariums, all of which were clamped securely to the table's surface. The plants within ranged from orchids to a literal baby tree. Curie, noticing where my gaze had fallen, shuffled over to the garden, gesturing for me to follow. I complied, taking in the sight of the tiny swath of nature she'd cultivated in her room. "Paphiopedilum rothschildianum," she pronounced with some effort, gesturing towards one of the orchids. "Rare. Endangered." "And you're growing it on a DropShip hurtling toward an ice planet," I remarked, incredulous. She just nodded, moving over to the next terrarium, where the tiny tree was situated. "Metroxylon sagu," she explained, touching the glass gingerly. "Sago palm. Makes sago." "Amazing," I admitted, genuinely impressed. "And what's that one?" "Arctostaphylos uva-ursi," she enunciated, moving to a terrarium that held a small shrub with red berries. "Bearberry." "And that's edible too?" I asked, pointing to the red berries. Curie nodded, her face lighting up in a soft smile. "And. There. Microsorum punctatum." I followed her pointing finger to a fern-like plant, lush green leaves sprawling to the edges of its glass home. "Button fern," she added. I chuckled lightly, "A whole ecosystem right here in your room, huh? Shucks, you just keep on surprising." Her bright eyes sparkled with a sense of pride as she observed her indoor garden. As she did so, she settled into what appeared to be a bean bag chair set before the menagerie, looking incredibly happy and content. "Ma'am," I offered, "I get paid to blow shit up. I don't know a lot. But what I do know is that this is truly impressive in every way I can say it. But, why? In space? That's hard." "Life," she explained. "Anchors." Her words caught me off guard, and I watched as her gaze shifted back to the terrariums. I wondered what she really meant by 'anchors' but decided to let it lie. Instead, I gave her shoulder a gentle squeeze. "You alright?" "Fine. I'm fine," she replied with a quick nod, her gaze still focused on her miniature forest. At length, she stood back up, turning to face me. "I reckon it's about time I turned in for the night. Thank you for the tour, Curie." I offered a warm smile, hoping to ease whatever inner melancholy she might be carrying. She simply nodded, giving me a small half-smile. "You're welcome." We stood there for a few more moments before I wished her goodnight and turned around to leave her quarters. As I headed toward the door, a strong hand caught my wrist. I turned back to see Curie looking at me, her eyes filled with a sense of urgency I hadn't seen before. "Alex," she fumbled. "You...really...are...kind." I blinked in surprise at her words, standing there frozen as her fingers held onto my wrist. Even with the utter simplicity of her sentences, she was able to convey a lot more than many folks did with their never-ending chatter. What...the fuck...was this beautiful, innocent human being doing running with a bunch of guns for hire? She was so much more than death for dollars, as I'd once heard it called. "So are you," I replied. "So are you." I felt a new conviction within me. Whatever happened, Curie was going to make it back to Sheratan safely. I would see to it.

Later that evening... MRCN Strumfänger Concord II jump point Concord system - Free Worlds League May 24, 3031 (Tuesday) ______________________________________________ A quiet knock at my cabin's door tore my attention away from Fight Night Tonight, where two MechWarriors from the Draconis Combine were duking it out with their BattleMechs in a surprisingly intense match. The screen flickered with the heavy impacts, but I scooted off my bunk and walked to the door. "Coming," I replied, turning its heavy handle. To my surprise, there stood Curie, looking completely prim and proper in a high-collared white sweater, khaki pants, and that same blue scarf I'd seen earlier. Meanwhile, I was in my boxers and a t-shirt. "Hi," she began, voice soft and slightly timid. "Hi. Um, sorry, I wasn't expecting you," I started, trying to suppress my surprise. "You need something?" She nodded. "You said we could get data." "Data?" I asked, gesturing for her to come inside. She smiled appreciatively and entered my cabin, her eyes scanning the room curiously, lingering on my unmade bunk, before shifting back to me. "Data for...the problem with my 'Mech? Now?" I queried, remembering our earlier conversation. "Yes," she confirmed. "Now is not busy." "Right," I chuckled, scratching the back of my head. "I just didn't expect you to take me up on that offer so soon." Curie tilted her head slightly, a slight frown forming. "Why?" "No reason," I hastily replied, trying to play off my surprise. "I guess I better put on some pants. Can you imagine the looks on the faces of the 'Mech techs if I went down there with you looking like this?" She didn't respond immediately, her expression inscrutable as she glanced around the room, seemingly taking in details. "No. I cannot," she finally said, and I realized with a jolt that she was completely serious. Somehow, that made the situation even more hilarious and awkward. I found myself laughing, and after a moment of hesitation, so did she, her laughter soft and pleasant. After I dressed properly, we made our way through the ship's winding corridors to the ‘Mech Bay. Curie was quiet during the journey, her eyes moving around with an almost childlike curiosity. The way the soft lights of the ship's interior played off her intense countenance, the way she carried herself with an inexplicable grace despite her apparent clumsiness; even in all her awkwardness, she was captivating. As we entered the 'Mech Bay, Curie's eyes widened. The Catapult loomed in its cubicle, its hulking frame shadowing us. She extended a hand towards it, her fingers lightly touching the cold metal. "Big," she observed. "Yep, that's Tyche, alright," I responded with a grin, watching as her gaze traveled up the large 'Mech. "And running too hot. Let's hop inside. I'll show you what I mean." She nodded, following my lead as we ascended on the scissor lift to reach the side of the Catapult. I guided her toward the access ladder that led to the cockpit. Curie eagerly made her way to it. However, as she attempted to navigate its rungs, she stumbled and fell backward. In a split second, I instinctively wrapped my arms around her waist to catch her. "Easy there," I exhaled, holding her steady. She held onto me for a moment, clutching onto my shirt as she regained her balance. "Sorry," she murmured, pulling away from me. Immediately, she turned back toward the ladder, her fingers tracing the cold, solid metal of the rungs. "No problem," I reassured her, stepping back to give her space. I watched as she started the climb once more, her movements slow and deliberate, each hand and foot placed with careful precision. The tension eased as she reached the top, her silhouette framed by the bay's lighting. "Made it!" she announced in a strained but triumphant voice. I followed her up, the familiar BattleMech's frame taking me to her side in no time. "Alright, here's where it gets fun," I explained, opening Tyche's hatch and gesturing toward the ladder that would take us down into the cockpit. Curie paused, eyeing the downward ladder skeptically. "I'll go first," I volunteered, hopping onto the rungs and disappearing down into the belly of the beast. Beneath the hatch, the cockpit was a symphony of blinking lights, humming tech, and buzzing electronics that pulsed with life. "Alright," I called up to her, "just take it slow, like you did before." She nodded and slowly made her way onto the ladder, each step shaking slightly as she fought to keep her balance. I reached up, prepared to catch her if she fell, but she didn’t. Her determination was palpable even from where I stood. "Almost there," I encouraged. She took a tentative step, then another, slowly making her way down to join me. At long last, she landed softly on the floor of the cockpit, her eyes wide and filled with a mixture of excitement and awe, a small smile on her face. "Nicely done," I complimented, taking a chance and placing a hand on her shoulder. Her eyes swiveled around to meet mine, and I saw her cheeks take on a faint flush. "Thank you," she answered. I couldn't help but smile back at her; there was something infectious and deeply special about her, a sort of naïve determination and wonder that drew you in. "Now," I continued, moving to the cockpit's control panel, "let me show you the problem." I gestured for her to join me at Tyche's helm, and as I sat down in the pilot's seat, she shuffled over to me, her movements awkward yet purposeful. Hovering directly over my shoulder, I found it a little too close for comfort in the confined space of the cockpit. However, I didn't mind all that much. "So, I'm gonna put it all in simulation mode," I began. "We obviously can't fire four lasers inside the DropShip. That right there would put a serious damper on our day." She gave a short laugh at my words, and I found myself grinning in response. I flicked several switches, turning the formidable Catapult into little more than an oversized training program. "You see this here?" I asked, pointing towards a small row of buttons on the console. "These are the firing controls." She nodded, her brows furrowed in concentration, her gaze fixed on the controls with razor-focused intensity. "Now, if we test fire one laser, everything's fine. The energy output stays consistent, and the heat levels are manageable. But when we double it; hell, quadruple it, since we're talking about pulse lasers...” I flicked another switch, and the simulated cockpit display immediately lit up with warnings. “That ain’t feasible," I explained, pointing to the flashing lights on the control panel. "You see that heat spike? It's as if Tyche herself is huffin' and puffin' after a sprint. That's not something you want your 'Mech doin' in the middle of a battle. And we're talking about one or two shots before I'm reduced to nothing more than an asthmatic missile boat." Curie was silent, her luminous eyes scanning the complex readouts. I deactivated the simulation, watching her deep in thought. "I need time," she responded. "This problem...it is complex." I nodded slowly, understanding her need to process. "Hey! Sure thing. Take all the time you need. This ain't an easy feat we're tryin' to pull off." She gave me a small smile, and I couldn't help but gaze at her. She was a blend of different types of eccentricity and brilliance, and for the first time, I realized it was a combination that I found captivating. "Thank you," she replied. "I'll...think. I'll think." With that, she stood from the control chair and turned toward the Catapult's ladder. "Hey!" I called. She turned, her eyes looking alarmed and intense all at the same time. "Yes?" she asked, raising her eyebrows as she clutched one of Tyche's rungs. I chuckled slightly, waving a hand. "Nothin' bad. Just...well...this might be outta line but, I was wonderin'...if you ain't too busy later on, would you like to grab dinner together? We could talk about this problem, or whatever," I asked, my heart pounding as I awaited her response. She seemed to consider it for a moment, her icy countenance flickering with an unreadable emotion. Then she nodded, much to my relief. "Dinner. Food. Sounds nice." Her voice was a whisper, as though she was lost in a thought. "Great, great," I stammered, a grin splitting my face as relief washed over me. "I know a good place nearby. It's called the mess hall. You may have heard of it." Curie's brows knitted together slightly, her gaze flicking to the floor briefly before she looked back at me with mirth in her eyes. "You are...funny," she said, her voice tinged with an endearing kind of awkwardness. "Mess hall food...nice." A small, lopsided grin tugged at the corner of her mouth. "Hey, they've got some darn good chili," I retorted with a chuckle. I watched as she climbed the ladder and disappeared from view. I couldn't help but feel a sense of excitement mixed with apprehension. I had just asked out one of the most complex people I'd ever met on a date. To the mess hall, no less.

MRCN Strumfänger Concord II jump point Concord system - Free Worlds League May 24, 3031 (Tuesday) ______________________________________________ "Hey guys!" I announced, stepping through the sliding door into what I understood to be the "R&D" operation that Captain Maxwell had greenlit. To my surprise, who greeted me wasn't a crowd of eggheads, but instead, a short, blonde-haired woman bizarrely attired in a scarf, swimsuit, and bath towel. "Hello," she stated flatly. Taken aback, I blinked and rubbed my eyes to make sure I wasn't hallucinating from the fatigue of the trip to Concord. But no, it seemed this spectacle was all too real. "Are you...Specialist Franklin?" I asked, trying to sound casual. "Yes," she replied simply. Her eyes latched onto me with an intensity that was borderline unnerving. "Curie." "Um, cool. My name's Alex," I offered. "Alexander," she responded. Her tone was flat but not unkind. I was taken aback, not many people called me that. It was always "Alex," or "Blackwood." "That's right," I replied, scratching my head and leaning on the door frame. She tilted her head to one side, her haunting blue eyes seeming to evaluate me in an almost inhuman way. "So...what's with the get-up, if you don't mind me askin'?" "Oh," Curie answered. "I was thinking." "Thinking?" I echoed, my eyebrows arching in confusion. "Yes," she answered enthusiastically, pointing at a huge vat of water behind her. "Think Tank." "Well, I'll be," I chuckled, my heart skipping a beat at the sight of her earnest expression. She seemed to take my amusement in stride, giving me a small smile in return. "Can't say I've ever heard of anyone doin' their thinkin' in a tank, but each to their own. Anyway, I heard you all are supposed to be problem solvers, and I've got one for you." "I am listening," she responded, casting the towel aside onto a nearby railing and striding toward the electronic table in the center of the room. At her statement, Nick Schuster and Idris Nasir, previously engrossed in their work, turned to hear my response. Curie made a gesture as if inviting me to continue. There was something about the way she looked at me. It was as though she was pulling words out of my mouth before I even spoke them. "Well, it's about cooling systems," I started, gesturing vaguely with my hand as if trying to pull the concept from the air. "I've been running Tyche for years. Literal years. And don't get me wrong, she's a great 'Mech. Always brings me home. But damned if she doesn't run hot. And I mean real hot. Hotter than a sun-baked armadillo on the plains of Texas." Curie gave a small nod, her eyes never leaving my face. Nick and Idris seemed similarly focused, their expressions serious. "I've tried rerouting power, streamlining the coolant channels, even used a few off-market heat sinks. But no matter what I do, she always ends up runnin' hotter than a cat on a summer tin roof. Now, I ain't no handyman. I can't fix a thing. But I know that 'Mech like I know my own heart. And there's gotta be something we can do," I explained. Nick raised an eyebrow. "Maybe it's a design flaw?" "No!" I exclaimed. "Tyche's already got double heat sinks, which, by the way, we can't replace whenever they get wrecked. There has got to be a happy medium between running pulse lasers and me getting roasted alive every time I fire 'em." Curie nodded thoughtfully, her expression sparkling with a mix of curiosity and comprehension. "I understand," she replied, her tone simple but not lacking in intelligence. She moved with a graceful deliberateness, crossing over to a work board mounted on the far wall. "Tyche's hot. Fix it," she added, her voice matter-of-fact as she added a new line to the bottom of the list. "We'll see." "Wow," I offered. "I thought I'd have to argue my case in front of a committee or something. You all are awesome." Curie smiled at me as she walked back over. "No. We fix things. Alex," she replied with a subtle grin. It was strangely endearing, the way she simplified everything down to its core. As Idris and Nick returned to their activities, I paused, debating whether I should thank her and leave or linger a while to explore what felt like an unexpected rapport. "Well, ah, appreciate your help, Curie," I began, unsure of how to continue. She was undeniably cute, and her awkwardness only added to her charm. "I, well, ah," I stuttered, taking a deep breath to steady myself. "If you need any more data, or anything, I can get it for you. I mean, I can even show you the 'Mech if you like." Curie blinked at my invitation, an inquisitive expression flashing across her countenance before she nodded and responded, "Yes. I would like to see. Thank you." "Alright," I nodded. "Looks like you're kinda tied up here, what with your bathing suit and Captain Maxwell and all, but you let me know when you're free, and we'll walk through it together." Curie considered me for a moment, taking in my anticipation. She then turned toward the board on the wall, evaluating the tasks laid out before her. After a moment of silence, she turned back to me and simply said "Yes." "Excellent. I look forward to it, ma'am," I responded, tipping my invisible hat in her direction and making my way toward the exit. I found myself oddly excited about the prospect of spending time with this odd yet attractive person I'd just met.

Site 187 Outskirts of Gellen's Heights, Sheratan Tikonov Free Republic November 4, 3030 ______________________________________________ "Something wrong, Fredericks?" I chuckled, leaning on the reception desk in Site 187's command center, watching my colleague nervously fiddle with her touchscreen controls. Fredericks' eyes darted up to meet mine, "Maybe, sir. I'm not sure. I've got a DropShip requesting landing clearance on our compound. Are we expecting anyone?" I raised an eyebrow. "You tell me. I'm just a 'Mech jock. My field commission to second-in-command expired the minute we got done with our last shindig." Specialist Fredericks grinned sheepishly. "Sorry, sir. I'm not aware of any scheduled landings. And there's something odd about it..." "Odd how?" I asked, straightening up and instinctively reaching for the sidearm strapped to my hip. "Well, for one thing, the last time we had a DropShip that wasn't our own land on our compound was over a year ago. This request is coming from an anonymous sender, and the ship's callsign is 'Executive One.' Maybe the Prefect has some unfinished business with Commander Jaeger and Lieutenant Chase?" I shook my head. "Doubtful. The Prefect wouldn't be coming out here in a DropShip. Not even in a storm like what's blowing topside right now. And, 'Executive One?' Sounds like a civilian ship to me. No, this doesn't sit right." Fredericks nodded in agreement. "What should we do, sir?" I thought for a moment, fingertips tapping against the desk. "Clear them for landing on the grass outside Silo Two. We obviously can't have them in a holding pattern in a gale. But get the security team ready, just in case. I'm going to call Commander Jaeger up here." As Fredericks carried out my orders, I withdrew my comm unit from its hip-mounted holster and punched in Orlex's private frequency. "Jaeger here." "Commander, we've got a DropShip requesting emergency landing clearance. The callsign is Executive One, but it's coming from an anonymous sender. We've pre-cleared them due to the weather, but I thought you should be notified." "Understood, Lieutenant. Hold one." The sound of another party being added to the call reached my ear. "Chase here." "Chase, are we expecting any DropShip traffic direct to Site 187?" "Negative, sir," Alyssa replied with confusion. "What's going on?" "We've got a request for emergency landing clearance from a DropShip called Executive One, coming from an anonymous sender. You know anything about that?" There came a sudden pause, the sound of open air on the other end of the line. "Orlex, the only DropShip I know of that goes by 'Executive One' and engages in cloak-and-dagger bullshittery is the Half Moon - William Kauffman's personal transport," Alyssa replied, at length. "You don't suppose...?" "Blake damn it, why did this have to happen now?" Orlex muttered under his breath. "Sir?" I pressed. "Continue their landing clearance. Meet me topside in five minutes," Commander Jaeger ordered. "Aye, sir," I responded. "You might want to bring an umbrella." I switched off my comm unit and looked out at the angry, cloud-choked sky. The rain was coming down harder now, beating against the windows of the administration building like icy fists. I didn't envy the DropShip crew that was about to descend into this maelstrom. My mind was racing as I watched the spherical shape of the Union-class DropShip emerging from the cloud bank, bolts of lightning occasionally illuminating the winged insignia of the Crayven Corporation displayed prominently on its hull. My mind raced with confused thoughts. Why were we getting paid an unannounced visit by the CEO of a major defense contractor in the middle of our downtime, particularly with Captain Maxwell still offsite, and in the midst of one of the worst storm seasons Sheratan had ever seen? There was something odd about this whole situation, and I couldn't quite put my finger on it. A moment later, the lobby elevator dinged, and Commander Jaeger stepped out, clad in an ankle-length black raincoat and matching military cap pulled low over his forehead. As I retrieved an umbrella from a nearby stand, he nodded curtly at me, and we stepped out into the rain, making our way toward the DropShip's landing zone. The rain cascaded down the top of the umbrella and onto my shoulders as we trotted towards the Half Moon, which had just completed its descent and now loomed over us, supported by quadruped landing gear as it sat on the grassy expanse surrounding our installation. The vessel's landing lights illuminated the driving rain, casting an eerie glow across the entire area, its engines winding down with a noise that gradually faded into the noise of the storm billowing around us. Even in this terrible weather, the ship was an impressive sight to behold. Emblazoned with an enormous, blue, winged crest, the ship's flawless, silvery, off-white hull paint gave it an ethereal aura. The ship was, in every measurable sense, pristine. As we approached her boarding gantry, a soft, amber glow spilled from within the vessel's hull, and I could see, even from the field, that the source was interior lighting reflecting off of mahogany paneling. We were only a few yards away when a lone figure appeared in the boarding hatch, silhouetted by the warm light behind them. As we got closer, I could see that it was Major Hayes, the Crayven Corporation's Director of Research and Development, and personal aide to William Kauffman himself. Hayes was a tall, clean-cut man with broad shoulders and a chiseled physique that had seen its fair share of action. Though I'd never met him myself, the Major had a reputation for being one of the most brilliant minds in the corporation and fiercely loyal to Kauffman. "Commander Jaeger!" Major Hayes called out, his voice carrying over the sound of the rain. "Major!" Orlex replied as we stepped beneath the Half Moon's expansive hull, receiving a welcome respite from the rain. "What brings you out in this weather? I'm assuming it's not a social call." "No," Hayes replied, an uncomfortable expression momentarily flashing across his face. "We need to talk." "You couldn't have just called?" Jaeger chuckled, stepping up onto the boarding ramp to stand alongside the Major. "I'm afraid not. This news requires a face-to-face conversation. Mind if we step inside your office?" Jaeger cast me a bemused expression before turning his attention back to Hayes. "Of course not," he replied. "Will General Kauffman be joining us as well?" To my surprise, the Major shook his head. "No, William's back on New Earth overseeing a priority research initiative. This conversation concerns Aegis Division specifically." "Well, then, let's chat," Orlex quipped, gesturing for Major Hayes to accompany us back to the worn but familiar concrete hallways of Site 187. As we stepped into the lobby, Specialist Fredericks nodded in greeting before returning her attention to the console before her. We made our way down the corridor, my boots echoing against the marble floor. I couldn't help but feel a sense of unease wash over me - Major Hayes' visit seemed ominous, like something big was about to happen. As we approached the administrative office, the Major glanced over his shoulder at me. "Lieutenant, ah..." he began, his eyes tracing over my uniform in search of my name tape. "Blackwood, sir," I clarified. "Blackwood. Do you mind if I speak with Commander Jaeger alone?" Hayes asked, his tone somber. I felt a knot form in my stomach as I shook my head. Whatever the Major had to say was clearly not meant for my ears. "Of course not, sir," I replied, trying to keep any note of disappointment from creeping into my voice. "Thank you, Lieutenant," Hayes replied with a nod before turning to Jaeger. I watched as the pair stepped into the command office, the door closing behind them with a soft click. I couldn't help but feel a twinge of curiosity mixed with fear. What were they discussing that couldn't be said in front of me? Whatever the answer, it was clearly above my pay grade.

SNS Trident Serathi Sea, Sheratan III Sheratan System - Tikonov Free Republic October 28, 3030 - early morning ______________________________________________ I stepped into the cramped antechamber that served as an observation booth into the holding area where our three Capellan captives were being detained, closing the hatch quietly behind me. Commander Jaeger stared through the two-way glass, his arms crossed before him, a contemplative look on his face. In the background, a commercial for Angry Shoyu Miso Soup blared on a wall-mounted holovision. "How do you want to play this?" I asked, turning the volume down on the set. Orlex turned to face me. "Don't shut that off," he admonished. "No telling how well-insulated these walls are." I nodded, returning the volume to its previous set point. "I don't know," Jaeger continued. "Strictly speaking, we're not under obligation to question them; just hand them over to the Office of the Prefect. But, given what Schuster discovered on those drives, I'm considering seeing what we can pry out of these three." "You're not alone," I agreed. "Scheming to poison an entire planet's agricultural infrastructure doesn't sit well with me. I say we make them talk." Orlex nodded, a small smile playing at the corners of his mouth. "Good. Then let's get started," he responded, gesturing for me to follow him into the holding area. As we entered, I could feel the captives' eyes on us. They were a sorry sight; dressed in tattered fatigues and bound to their chairs with flexcuffs, they looked defeated. "Good morning, gentlemen," Orlex greeted them in Mandarin. "I hope you slept well." No response. "Allow me to introduce myself," he continued. "I am Commander Orlex Jaeger of Aegis Division, and this is Lieutenant Alexander Blackwood, my second-in-command. We're here to ask you a few questions." Silence again. I could see the stubbornness in their eyes. "Alright, then," Orlex nodded, stepping closer to them. "Let's start with the obvious: what the hell were you doing cooking up agricultural toxins on the largest food exporter in this region of the Inner Sphere?" No response. "Look, guys," I interjected. "We know you're Capellans; we know you wiped out the Hollingsworth Agrifoods crops. We also know that veritable navy protecting your little hidey hole was also your doing. What we don't know is why. Why does the Chancellor want to trigger a famine on Sheratan? What's your end game here?" The three men exchanged glances, but still, none of them spoke. I could feel my frustration mounting. It was clear they weren't going to talk without some persuasion. "Commander, may I?" I asked, gesturing to the injector gun holstered at my side. Jaeger raised an eyebrow but didn't object. We both knew that there wasn't a drug proven to cause consistent or predictable enhancement of truth-telling, and juicing the captives would be pointless, but I was gambling on the possibility that a handful of Capellan soldiers trained in basic chemistry might not be aware. "Alright, gentlemen," I began, stepping closer to them. "Last chance. Are you going to tell us what we want to know voluntarily, or do we have to use some persuasion?" The captives remained silent, their eyes defiant, and I could feel my blood starting to boil. As a soldier, I knew that psychological warfare was sometimes necessary, but I didn't relish the idea of torturing prisoners. Before I could make my next move, Orlex put a hand on my shoulder, and I turned to face him. "Let's give them a few more minutes to consider their options," he advised. "Maybe they'll change their minds." I nodded, grateful for the respite. As we stepped back out of the room, I couldn't help but think about the larger implications of the situation. The Capellan Confederation was known for its ruthless tactics, but even for them, this was a new low. If word got out that they were willing to resort to biological warfare to achieve their goals, it could lead to an all-out war between the Capellan Confederation and the Tikonov Free Republic. Which might have been the plan all along. After a few more tense minutes of silence, Orlex gestured for us to return to the holding area. Once we entered, he spoke up again. "Very well. I see you've made your choice," he concluded, his voice icy. "Lieutenant, do what you have to do." I took a deep breath, drawing the injector gun from its holster. As I approached the captives, I could see fear in their eyes for the first time. They knew what was coming, and they didn't like it. "Please," one of them finally spoke up. "We were just following orders. We don't know anything else." "Whose orders?" I demanded, holding the injector gun steady. "The Chancellor's," he replied, his voice shaking. "He wanted to destabilize the Tikonov Free Republic. We were just the pawns." Orlex nodded, his expression grim. "And where else on Sheratan are the 'pawns' stationed? We cracked your encryption. We know that you'd intended to spread it to the cities once the rural areas had been sufficiently blighted. I can't imagine one little lab would have been able to produce the kind of output a planetary attack would have required." I waited, eyes locked with the prisoners, to see just how cooperative they were willing to be with us.

DSV Cuttlefish Serathi Sea, Sheratan III Sheratan System - Tikonov Free Republic October 27, 3030 ______________________________________________ I leaned back in my seat aboard the Cuttlefish, pulling off my helmet as the submarine disengaged from the airlock and began slowly thrumming toward the surface. As I ran my hand along the side of my face, I felt a trail of dried blood. In the heat of the protracted battles we'd been embroiled in, I'd apparently acquired a nasty gash on my forehead and hadn't even noticed it. Letting out a sigh, I looked across the compartment to Commander Jaeger, who was sitting on across from me, removing his own helmet. "Well. That was something," I quipped, breaking the silence that had descended over the small group of us. Jaeger nodded, his expression grim. "You could say that," he replied. "I'm still not totally sure what we accomplished. The base is a write-off and I'm still not a hundred percent sure who those guys we were tangling with are - or what their endgame was." I winced. Operations with nebulous outcomes were always the hardest to swallow. Especially when they resulted in good people getting hurt. Or killed. I looked over at Levi, Nick, and Mallory, all of whom were seated in their own various positions of repose, and let out an exhale of relief. We'd all been through a lot over the past few days, and they'd pulled through admirably. "Well, I hope our POWs will be able to shed some light on the matter," I said. "If nothing else, I'm hopeful that Curie will be able to bust the encryption on those drives we pulled just before we bugged out." "Yes," Jaeger said, his voice heavy with fatigue. "That would be helpful." He leaned back in his seat and closed his eyes, and I knew that he was lost in his own thoughts, replaying the events of the day in his head. As for me, I was just glad to be alive and in one piece. It could have easily gone the other way, and I knew that we'd all been incredibly lucky. I looked toward Doctor Aldon, who held a large, translucent canister of green liquid in his hands. "How long do you think it'll take Curie to decompile that stuff?" I asked, gesturing toward the container. "Depends," Mallory replied, looking down at the canister as if he'd forgotten it was there. "If it's the same toxin we found the Capellans whipping up on the surface, we'll know almost immediately. But if it's something new..." He trailed off, and I could see the wheels turning in his head. Finally, he shook his head and looked back up at me. "I don't know, Alex," he said. "I just don't know." "Where does that leave us with our employer?" I asked Jaeger. "Well, we were hired to collect the evidence, not decipher it. But I'm certain that we'll gain favor with the Prefect's office if we can give them a leg up in the case against House Liao. And anything that puts us in a bargaining position is a bonus," Orlex added, his eyes glinting. "Mallory, can I count on you and Private Schuster to spearhead the tasks of deciphering the evidence once we're back aboard the Trident? Anything that Curie can help dig up will help us not only in our conversations with the prisoners, but also in our negotiations with our employers." Mallory and Nick both nodded in agreement, and I could see the determination in their eyes. I had no doubt that they would do everything in their power to get us the information we needed. I turned my attention back to Doctor Aldon. "What about the toxin?" Levi asked. "Do we know how dangerous it is in its raw form?" Aldon shook his head. "Not yet," he replied. "We'll need to analyze it in the lab before we can make any definitive statements. The diluted form doesn't seem to be harmful to higher lifeforms. But we have nothing to indicate that what we've recovered is the same. I'd suggest you treat it as something you don't want to come into contact with." The quartermaster nodded as a sense of unease settled in the pit of my stomach. I looked back toward Orlex, changing the subject. "How are Steve and Idris holding up?" "Ah, they're fine," the commander replied, glancing down the length of the sub toward the rest of the team. "I'm amazed at how much crap they both managed to tank their way through. Especially Idris. He's performed exceptionally well, given his lack of experience in these kinds of situations. But I think they'll both need some downtime once we get back to the Trident." I nodded in agreement. It was only natural that fatigue and stress would start to take their toll. As the Cuttlefish broke the surface of the Serathi Sea, I felt a sense of relief, but I knew that our work was far from over. There were still unanswered questions; still work needing to be done. But that was just part of the job. And if there was one thing I'd learned over the years, it was that the job always came first. No matter what.

Capellan Undersea Base Serathi Sea, Sheratan III Sheratan System - Tikonov Free Republic October 27, 3030 ______________________________________________ "Reaper-1 to Ceres-1," my radio crackled, Commander Jaeger's voice seeming unusually loud in the deathly quiet surrounding us. "Ceres-1; go," I replied. "We've recovered Ceres-3. He's in one piece." "Thank Blake," I sighed. "That's excellent news, Reaper-1. We're making our way toward you." "Copy that," Jaeger responded. "Stay frosty." "Aye, sir. Ceres-1 out." I gestured for the team to follow me as we moved with caution through the corridors of the lab's mid-level, relying almost solely on our flashlights to navigate the cramped yet labyrinthine corridors. The silence was heavy, and I could see the steely determination in the eyes of Schuster, Wright, and Aldon. They'd held together well, considering that none of what we were doing was within their normal scope of responsibilities. But still, the tension was palpable as we reached a spiraling staircase. "So, what I don't understand," I finally began in a low voice, attempting to break the ice as much as I could, "is that I haven't seen anything that looks like chemical processing equipment. Wherever they've got it stashed, they've hidden it well." "No kidding," Mallory affirmed. "It almost seems like the rest of the base was given over to serving as a diversion." The tension was palpable as we reached a spiraling staircase. The sound of rushing water grew louder the nearer we drew to it. At the top of the stairs, I caught a glimpse of flickering light below us. An open section of the installation had been walled off with all manner of junk, from old server racks to sections of sheet metal and furniture. Stationed before the fortification was yet another quartet of Capellan soldiers. "The real mystery is how they seem to never run out of guys," Levi quipped. I nodded a grim agreement. "Alright, let's hold position here. We'll set up overwatch until Reaper squad and the Bridgeburners arrive, feeding intel as we're able to observe it. While I have no doubt that we could take on those four alone, we don't know what kind of meat grinder lies beyond," I instructed, keying my radio at the end of the order. "Ceres-1 to Reaper-1." "Go ahead," came the response. "We're in position just above Level 1. They've definitely fortified this end of the facility. At least four tangoes on watch outside of the barricade. We haven't been spotted. Holding position pending rendezvous." "Understood. Maintain overwatch and keep us posted on any new developments. We're inbound now. Bridgeburners have prepared a shock and awe arrival to throw them off-guard. Be ready," Commander Jaeger advised. "Copy that. Ceres-1 out." I took out my binoculars and surveyed the barricade, noting the weapons the terrorists held. Two clasped firearms that looked similar to the Federated Long Rifle but which appeared to be customized models. Another appeared to be holding a modified rifle that had an extended barrel and a high-tech scope, likely capable of more accurate shots at longer ranges. The fourth soldier was wielding a KA-23 subgun, with a belt of ammunition draped across their shoulder. These guys weren't playing around. "Levi, take a look at those weapons," I directed. "What do you make of them?" The quartermaster took the binoculars from me and examined the rifles. "The big one is a Minolta 9000 Advanced Sniper System. The other two are T-88c Assault Guns. must have got them from the black market." I nodded, taking note of the information. "Alright, we need to keep our distance. Aldon, make sure you're ready to patch us up if necessary. Nick, you're in charge of keeping an eye on our six." The team moved into position, keeping a low profile behind crates and debris. The Capellans remained alert but unaware of our presence. I could feel my heart beating faster and the adrenaline coursing through my veins. This was what I'd been trained for, but it was still a dangerous situation and the tangible feeling of impending peril was no less real. Suddenly, there was a loud explosion from the direction of the barricade. Looking wildly in the opposite direction, I noted the arrival of Reaper squad and the Bridgeburners. "Okay, let's move out!" I yelled, signaling for the team to fall in with the approaching cavalry. We charged down the stairs, firing our weapons in a diversionary attack as we ran toward Reaper squad. As we passed the barricade, I could see a makeshift work area on the other side, filled with chemical processing equipment. "This must be it!" I announced as we dropped into position alongside Commander Jaeger and the others, relief flooding through me. "Let's take it out and lock this place down."

Capellan undersea base Serathi Sea, Sheratan III Sheratan System - Tikonov Free Republic October 27, 3030 ______________________________________________ "Cover me!" I yelled, unleashing a barrage of bullets from my Hawk Eagle pistol as I lunged forward toward the knot of Capellans mobbing the laboratory's hatch, sending one of their number crashing to the deck almost immediately. Simultaneously, the remaining four Capellan soldiers rushed us, Idris and Mallory breaking off into one-on-one brawls with a pair of them while Levi and I tried to fight off the other two. The closer of the two soldiers, a burly, square-jawed man came at me with a stun stick, a weapon I hadn't anticipated. Before I could react, I felt a jolt of electricity crackling up my arms, and my vision started to blur. The next thing I knew, I was on the ground, inside the chamber, dazed and confused. I pulled myself to my feet just in time to register a burst of laser rifle fire from Mallory's position. A moment later, I heard a pronounced thunk, and I turned to see that Mallory had actually managed to pin one of the Capellans up against a bulkhead with the stock of his rifle, while Levi had apparently knocked the other unconscious and was now sitting on him. Another blast of laser fire sliced past me in the darkness. I felt the heat of the blast, heard the whine of the weapon and then saw the glint of a muzzle flash. My eyes darted around the room in the dim light, trying to pinpoint the source. Then I heard it, a voice—Levi's voice—yelling for me to get down. I ducked as the laser fire continued, and in the next instant, I saw Levi pointing at an emergency door release panel on the wall. "We can drop the door on them!" Levi shouted. The smell of ozone heralded another laser blast coming precariously close to me - too close. Diving behind a table of lab equipment, my eyes probed the darkness, looking for my assailant. The Capellan was entrenched behind two tall lockers, effectively armored against my return fire. Nevertheless, I unleashed a volley of shots, hoping to keep the Capellan pinned down while I worked my way toward the control panel. Keeping my head low, I dove toward the panel in a graceless arc, crashing through a pile of debris, and slamming my hand into the panel with a force that I didn't even know I had in me. The panel's glass shattered, embedding multiple sharp lancets of glass into my skin. Pressing through the pain, I felt for the lock and started to disengage it, one by one. The Capellan, realizing what I was attempting, opened fire again while simultaneously starting to come toward me. I fired wildly at his legs with my weapon hand while continuing to fiddle with the lock with the other. Abruptly, I felt a click, and the hatch suddenly gave a loud groan. The Capellan, realizing the imminent danger of being trapped, made a desperate break for the door. I scrambled to my feet, barreling past the man and shoving him back into the room. Simultaneously, Mallory, who'd managed to subdue the other Capellan, grabbed his assailant and threw him into the chamber just as I cleared through the hatchway. Levi, who had been watching pensively the whole time, drew his laser rifle, aimed it at a point above the hatch, and fired. The heavy door came crashing down, sealing the Capellan attackers inside. The three of us looked at each other in stunned silence. "Nice shootin', Tex," I wheezed, gasping for breath. "What was that?" "There was a piece of rebar shoved in the door's frame," Levi said, pointing at the piece of metal protruding from the door. "They probably put it there when the power went out to ensure no emergency protocols did what we ended up doing. I noticed it just as you were coming out." "Nice job," I smiled, clapping Levi on the shoulder. "Doc, you OK?" "I'm fine, just a little bruised," he replied, wiping sweat from his brow and pushing an unruly lock of hair out of his eyes. "What are we going to do about Sleeping Beauty here?" I looked down at the still-unconscious Capellan soldier that Levi had subdued. "We'll tie him up and leave him here for now," I replied, grabbing a pair of flex cuffs from my kit. "We can't afford to take any chances with him waking up and causing trouble again." Levi nodded in agreement as he rolled the fallen Capellan soldier up against the catwalk's railing. Mallory and I quickly bound the man's hands and feet to the bars, ensuring that he was immobilized and couldn't escape. Once we were satisfied with our makeshift restraints, we stepped back to survey the situation. The laboratory was secured, with its occupants banging on the heavy door and shouting muffled epithets at us. "I sure hope that wasn't the lab holding all the answers," Levi quipped. Mallory shook his head. "Nah, we're on the wrong deck. It's probably full of lots of other fun things that the Capellans would prefer not to be trapped with, though." I chuckled, then, performing a quick mental headcount, I realized that we were one person short. "Wait a minute," I observed, "where's Idris?"

Capellan undersea base Serathi Sea, Sheratan III Sheratan System - Tikonov Free Republic October 27, 3030 ______________________________________________ So much for advance scouting, I thought to myself as we pressed forward through the dark, narrow corridors of the underwater base. The tension was palpable. We'd already defused one explosive device, and only Blake knew how many more traps awaited us. The air was heavy with the acrid smell of gunpowder, and the distant hum of machinery added to the sense of foreboding. We came across a large operations center labeled DECOMPRESSION LOUNGE that seemed to be a hub of activity for the Capellan soldiers. Gunfire erupted, and we were suddenly under heavy fire from all directions. Within seconds, Mallory, Nick, Levi, and I found ourselves pinned down behind a makeshift barricade, exchanging shots with the enemy, Doc seemingly the focus of the assault. I quickly assessed the situation and formulated a plan. "Mallory, hold on! Nick, Levi, covering fire!" I shouted over the gunfire, signaling them to suppress the enemy's position. The pair provided overwatch from behind the barrier as I made my way toward Mallory. To my surprise, as I closed on his position, I realized that the medic was taking out soldiers with precision, one after another, despite being outnumbered and outgunned, his medical bag lying forgotten beside him. A sudden blast of flak exploded against the face of the barrier, and I dove to the floor beside Mallory, taking out another Capellan that had abandoned his position and was charging toward us. "You good?" Mallory nodded, sweat trickling down his soot-streaked face. "Yeah, I'm good. Thanks, Lieutenant." "I didn't realize you were such a crack shot," I joked, fumbling to withdraw a concussion grenade from my bandolier. "Doesn't that conflict with the Hippocratic Oath?" "There's very little more applicable to 'do no harm' than preventing someone from killing your ass or your patient," the medic replied, moving to a crouched position and snapping off several more handgun rounds in the general direction of the Capellans. I couldn't argue with that logic. With Mallory providing cover fire, I pulled the pin on the concussion grenade and tossed it over the barricade, aiming for a cluster of enemy soldiers who were trying to flank us. The grenade exploded with a deafening boom, sending debris flying and disorienting the Capellans. Taking advantage of the chaos, Nick and Levi dispersed and began scouting the chamber for any other surprises. A moment after the two ducked behind a large, unidentifiable bank of machinery, my radio crackled to life with the voice of Private Schuster. "Ceres-1, we've got a problem." "Go for Ceres-1!" I shouted, reloading my rifle and laying down a barrage of supporting fire for the Bridgeburners, who were now fully engaged with another pack of Capellans descending on us from a side corridor. "The floor of this entire chamber is connected to the generator next to us. It looks like the Capellans wired in remote controls that would enable them to electrocute anyone who steps on it. As a fallback, there's a torpedo under the floor grates that's packing a remote detonator. Near as I can tell, this room has been set up as a single point of failure in case of intruders - like us." "Shit. Can you two disarm it before they get squirrelly and decide to either fry us or trap us here?" "Probably, but we're going to have to act fast. No telling how squirrelly they might already be," Nick replied, anxiety evident in his voice. "Alright. Get to it," I responded. "We'll do what we can to keep the heat off of you in the mean time." With Nick and Levi occupied with disarming the traps, it was up to the rest of us to hold off the advancing Capellans. Jenkins took up position behind a fallen console, using it as makeshift cover as he unleashed a barrage of gunfire with some kind of heavy machine gun. The enemy soldiers, caught off guard by the sudden onslaught, ducked for cover, allowing us to pick them off one by one as they exposed themselves. Meanwhile, Idris fell in alongside us, unleashing precise shots from his laser rifle that melted through the Capellans' armor and sent them scrambling for cover. The firefight was intense. The enemy soldiers were surprisingly well-trained and well-armed, and they pushed forward with relentless determination. We were forced to constantly change positions, using the limited cover available to us to our advantage. Fortunately, Commander Jaeger, a seasoned leader with a tactical mind, directed our movements, calling out enemy positions and coordinating our fire, enabling us to keep the Capellans pinned down and prevent them from gaining ground. As the battle raged on, we could hear the sounds of Nick and Levi working feverishly to disarm the traps. The Bridgeburners unleashed a volley of gunfire that cut down a group of Capellans attempting to flank us from the left. I spotted movement to my right and fired off a burst from my rifle, taking down a Capellan soldier who had managed to slip through our defenses. But more kept coming, pushing us back and closing in on our position. We were running low on ammunition and our cover was being whittled away by enemy fire. "How many of these guys are there?" Dexter shouted from his own position on the other side of the room, his voice strained with urgency. "It doesn't matter! Nick and Levi need more time!" I shouted back, gritting my teeth and emptying my rifle's magazine into the advancing enemy. Just then, there was a loud explosion from the direction of Nick and Levi's position. The floor of the chamber shook violently, and we could see smoke and debris billowing up from where they were working. The Capellans, emboldened by the distraction, surged forward, pushing us back even harder. "Reaper-4; Ceres-4, what the hell was that?" I called into my radio. "Just a small mishap, Ceres-1," Levi replied, breathing heavily. "We're almost there."

DSV Cuttlefish Serathi Sea, Sheratan III Sheratan System - Tikonov Free Republic October 27, 3030 ______________________________________________ "If that's the best we're going to get, then let's do this!" Frosty exclaimed, her voice echoing off the tiny submarine's walls, slapping her helmet's visor shut, and raising her weapon to the ready position. Simultaneously, the other members of the Bridgeburners did the same. "Cycling the airlock doors now," Private Schuster confirmed, Levi Wright tensing up noticeably beside him. "WAIT!" Mallory interjected in a panicked voice. Frosty's head whipped toward the doctor, a mixture of surprise and irritation visible in her body language even though her face was hidden behind a layer of ferroglass. "What the hell, Doc?" she demanded. "You don't think they know we're coming?" Aldon asked, maneuvering his way through the crowded compartment to stand next to the squad leader. Bereft of his eyeglasses and lab coat, instead decked out in assault gear, he looked far more like the combat medics I'd become used to seeing during my time in the AFFS. "I'm sure they know we're coming, but we," Frosty began, gesturing at the rest of the Bridgeburners, "kinda specialize in that sort of thing. What's the issue?" Behind me, I could hear Commander Jaeger clearing his throat, no doubt trying to move things along. At that prompt, I decided to intervene. "Mallory's got it right. This is a choke point. I guarantee you the Capellans have probably rigged up some kind of defensive setup. Whether it's a kill nest or - " "- an IED," Mallory finished, his voice low and husky. "Trust me. Call it the experiences of a hard-knock life. If ever there was a setup for a human hamburger scenario, this would be it." For some reason, Frosty glanced toward me for validation. I nodded my head silently. "He's right. We both served in the AFFS, though, admittedly, he was in a way more badass unit than me. Those guys spent as much time scraping people off walls than they did saving lives...due to overconfidence and planning mistakes. We should proceed cautiously." Frosty flipped her visor open, grimacing. "Alright, then. What do you think we should do, MechWarrior?" I felt the bite of the word 'MechWarrior' in my soul. It was true that I'd done my service in a MOS that was largely insulated from the horrors of the infantry, but I'd seen enough of war to understand the risks that came with it. "After we drop the airlock door, and the bullets have stopped flying - assuming that even happens at all - we should send in a forward scouting team," I explained. "Send four of us. We'll move quickly and quietly, and, if we do it right, sweep for IEDs and traps without setting them off and clear a path for the insertion team. With Mallory, Levi, and Nick in the squad, anything we come across should be easy to overcome." I looked to Commander Jaeger for his assessment. Though he was newer to Aegis Division, I had a deep respect for the experience and command finesse he'd exhibited thus far. "That seems like a logical enough approach, Lieutenant," he nodded, "though I have to ask, what role does the quartermaster fill in such a plan?" "Levi has unmatched proficiency with electronics. No offense, Nick. My assumption is that were we to come across an IED, he can either disarm it, or if time is a factor, he can help the insertion team navigate around it," I explained. Orlex looked toward the quartermaster with a hint of skepticism. "Are you up for that?" Levi nodded confidently. "Yes, sir. I...think I can handle it. And if not, well, you can take my sudden and morbid fate as an indication to run. Immediately. Yesterday." Commander Jaeger chuckled and then nodded in satisfaction before returning his attention to me. "Very well, Lieutenant. Once the Bridgeburners clear the airlock and validate that there's not a wall of lead awaiting you on the other side, your ad-hoc team here can ensure there's nothing else waiting for us." I nodded, appreciating the vote of confidence and the opportunity to lead. "Yes, sir. I'm certain we can do it." Frosty also nodded, her expression hardening into determination and her jaw set. "Schuster! Let's roll!" A few seconds later, the airlock doors opened, and the Bridgeburners stepped out into the unknown, Mallory, Nick, Levi, and me close behind.

Pandora BRV Trailer Hollingsworth Agrifoods Warehouse Daggaknott, Sheratan III Sheratan System - Tikonov Free Republic October 27, 3030 ______________________________________________ As Commander Jaeger and Captain Sisko fielded various questions from the assembled staff, I studied the underwater base's plans on the presentation monitor. My eyes traced along its various corridors, probing for choke points, ambush spots, and any potential weaknesses in the installation's layout. While I was impressed at the depth of detail, at the end of the day, all we really had was a map and a complex plan to get us inside the facility. There were a worrying amount of unknowns. As the conversation between the commanders and the staff reached its conclusion, I stood up, adjusted my combat fatigues, and raised my hand. "Blackwood, what've you got?" Orlex asked. "First, I appreciate the significant investment Captain Sisko and Curie have made in gathering this information, " I paused, nodding my head toward the AI's hologram and then to Captain Sisko's image on the tri-vid monitor before continuing, "but there's a lot of information we don't seem to have here. Have we got any intelligence at all about what sort of defenses the facility has, whether external or internal? The likely number of occupants and their positions? Any sort of security protocols in place?" I felt the weight of the room's gaze as I spoke, and I held my breath, anticipating the answer. Captain Sisko nodded thoughtfully. Then, after a long pause, she replied, "We don't have anything on the defensive measures or security protocols, but the designed capacity of the facility is thirty personnel at maximum. They're likely to be scattered throughout the installation." "Alright," I sighed, relieved that we had at least a modicum of information. "Commander Jaeger - have we processed the BattleROMs from our soiree here yet? I'd like to have some sense of what sorts of arms and armor we can expect the squatters to greet us with so that we can formulate options for what we'll need to do to counter them. I figure our best bet is to look at what we've already encountered and extrapolate from there."

Hollingsworth Agrifoods Daggaknott, Sheratan III Sheratan System - Tikonov Free Republic October 27, 3030 ______________________________________________ I watched in awe as the enormous Rapier-class patrol destroyer slugged it out with the even larger Capellan Jormungand, the two battleships trading laser and PPC fire at close range. The surface of the river was awash in smoke and debris, the horizon alight with the muzzle flashes of the ship's guns. It was a sight to behold, but it also served as a stark reminder of the might of the Capellan Confederation, even here, on Sheratan. Even though the Jormungand had been dispossessed of its steering gear, it was still a fearsome adversary, landing multiple hits on the Rapier as the smaller of the two ships hammered away at its adversary. I shook myself out of my reverie as the radio crackled to life, the voice of Mallory Aldon cutting through the static. "Home Plate to Emissary," he began, addressing the S.N.S. Trident, "where do you want us?" "If you could get eyes on that Neptune submarine for us," Captain Sisko replied, "I'd feel a lot better about our odds against the Jormungand. Even though you knocked out its engine, there's no guarantee that the currents won't get them into an opportunistic position." "Roger that, Emissary," Mallory responded, "we're putting a drone up in the air now." "Ceres-1 to Emissary, I've actually been tracking it since the last of the ground-pounders withdrew out here. They've got their periscope and snorkel up, which has been giving my battle computer something to monitor. I'm sending you the telemetry now," I interjected. "Emissary copies," Captain Sisko answered. "That's good work, Ceres-1. Stay on them, and let us know if they move. We're going to put the Typhoon up in the air and drop a payload on them." "Wilco, Emissary," I acknowledged before cutting the connection. Turning my attention back to the sensor feed, I observed as the plotter continued to trace the Neptune's sluggish course up the river. Taking out a submarine from an aerospace fighter was a bold move, but one that I had to admire, given the situation. The sooner we could neutralize it, the better. I watched as the Typhoon took off from the Trident, a payload of high-yield bombs slung underneath its fuselage. The submarine was slowly moving closer to the main engagement, and I knew that the Typhoon would have to time its attack perfectly in order to avoid hitting friendly forces. The bombs dropped, and I held my breath as they struck the sea around the submarine. A moment later, a huge concussion sent a gigantic plume of water and debris surging into the air. A series of secondary explosions burst from beneath the surface, and I looked on in amazement as the Neptune's broken back momentarily emerged from the water before sinking out of sight. "Emissary, this is Ceres-1," I reported. "The drop is good. The submarine is down. I repeat, the submarine is down." "Roger that, Ceres-1," Captain Sisko replied. "Good work. Now let's finish off this battlecruiser." The Typhoon circled back around, heading toward the Jormungand. I swung my Shadow Hawk's crosshairs over the battleship's superstructure, looking for critical command and control structures that I could pick off with my long-range missiles. I shifted my weight in the pilot's seat as the Shadow Hawk's armaments came to bear. My fingers hovered over the triggers, ready to unleash a torrent of destruction on the enemy ship. But before I could fire, the Jormungand was abruptly rocked by a massive explosion that sent a conflagration of fire, debris, and bodies flying in every direction. The Typhoon had scored a direct hit on the enemy ship's magazine with its PPCs and large lasers. The resulting explosion had ripped a gaping hole in the beast from its upper decks all the way down to the ship's waterline, opening a significant breach in the Jormungand's armor. Quickly, I targeted the opening with a volley of missiles, and seconds later, the Jormungand was engulfed in a second, even larger explosion. "Ceres-1 to all units: focus fire on my target!" I shouted across the all-call, as the Jormungand began to list dangerously to one side. It was clear that the tide had turned in our favor. The Capellans were taking heavy damage, and the Rapier was starting to pull ahead. Through my Shadow Hawk's zoom window, I could see the crew of the warship working frantically to try and repair the damage, but it was clear that they were fighting a losing battle. I unleashed another volley of missiles at the leviathan cruiser as the other elements of Aegis Division began to engage. With our combined-arms forces working together, we'd soon have the ship destroyed.

Hollingsworth Agrifoods Daggaknott, Sheratan III Sheratan System - Tikonov Free Republic October 27, 3030 ______________________________________________ "Reaper-4 is recovered," Mallory's voice crackled over the comms as my Shadow Hawk breached the surface of the water, its canopy glass polarizing in the glare of the morning sun. I breathed a sigh of relief - after Nick's ejection, I'd been worried about the chances of him getting shot out of the sky, taken prisoner on the ground, or worse. "We're headed back to the staging area now." As I trudged toward the shore, several artillery rounds fell around me and a number of autocannon rounds and missiles corkscrewed past my cockpit. The Jormungand and its submarine escort, while bereft of their steering gear, were still threats that would need addressing, but I couldn't do that on my own. I had to link back up with Commander Jaeger and the rest of the Aegis Division units so that we could mount a proper response. The beach stretched before me, the sand shifting beneath my feet as my Shadow Hawk sought purchase among the shells and rocks, scattered hostile infantry and vehicles still standing between me and the Hollingsworth crop fields. "Shit," I swore as hail of small-arms fire greeted me. I quickly tucked my BattleMech into a defensive posture, my autocannon, missile launchers, and laser swiveling towards my attackers as I prepared for the inevitable counterattack. Suddenly, my cockpit was slammed with a massive concussion and I was thrown backward in my seat. As I regained my senses, I realized that I had a heavy support infantry squad bearing down on me, armed with 20 Imperator AX-22 assault rifles and eight David light gauss rifles. Ten of the twenty infantrymen were mounted on three-wheel motortrikes. A squad this heavily armed was definitely capable of taking out a BattleMech if I didn't act quickly. "Reaper-1, this is Ceres-1, I'm en route back to your location, but I'm tangling with some heavy ground resistance. Mix of assault and light gauss rifles. Gonna be a few minutes before I can get to your position," I advised as I rapidly calculated my next move. I had to get rid of these infantry and their motortrikes fast, before they could do any more damage. I decided to lead with my autocannon, picking off the motortrikes first before targeting the infantry. My first few shots were true, causing a pair of the motortrike drivers headed toward me to swerve and crash into each other. As the smoke cleared, I identified the next target and opened fire, showering the infantry with a barrage of SRM rounds. A series of exploisions rippled through the sand as the infantry scattered and returned fire, their fearsome weapons coring into my armor. I felt the impacts, but my Shadow Hawk held. I quickly switched targets, unleashing a volley of LRMs that caught another of the motortrike drivers in the back and sent him crashing into the sand, his vehicle erupting in a ball of flames. The rest of the infantry scattered, some of them firing wildly as they ran for cover. I turned my attention away from them and towards my next target, a light tank that had been hidden from view by a sand dune. My autocannon and missiles pounded the tank, ripping it apart and sending its remains spiraling towards the ground in a shower of sparks and smoke. With the tank destroyed, I quickly surveyed my surroundings, my vision slowly clearing. The infantry had retreated, but I wasn't out of the woods yet. A shrill scream erupted from my Shadow Hawk's targeting computer, and I pivoted toward the river in time to see the one remaining warship that still had steering, the Silverfin coastal cutter, moving into weapons range. "Reaper-1, this is Ceres-1, I'm engaging the Silverfin. Stand by," I reported, cycling my BattleMech's targeting computer onto the vessel. The moment I had a missile lock, I launched my LRMs and they streaked towards the vesse;. The ship turned sharply to the left, trying to avoid the incoming barrage, but it was too late - the LRMs slammed into the side of the ship, tearing a hole in its hull, and the cutter quickly rolled onto its side, smoke billowing from its wound. A thunderous retort from the Jormungand sent multiple blue PPC bolts and autocannon rounds streaking past my cockpit, and I knew that I'd been spotted. It was time to retreat to the Aegis Division line. I fired the Shadow Hawk's jump jets, clearing the small ridge between the shore line and the fields, and quickly set a course for Commander Jaeger's lance. A few moments later, I spotted Orlex and Marius' twin Mongoose BattleMechs, Steve's Crab, and Dexter's Raven in a defensive formation around the large crater that Aces Wild had blown in the surface of the field to gain access to the desalination facility. "Nice to have you back, Reaper-1," Jaeger advised as I fell in with the others. "Good to be back, Commander. What's our next move from here?" I responded. "In case you had forgotten, gentlemen, there's still a battleship out there doing untold amounts of damage to this facility," Tribune Guaverra's voice interjected on the comms. "And despite whatever efforts you've made, it's been noticed by some of the locals. We're setting up a law enforcement perimeter now and putting out the story that there are controlled demolitions underway at the Hollingsworth facility, but you mercs need to do your part and get that boat shut down quickly." "Copy that, Home Plate," Jaeger replied, a hint of frustration in his tone. "Where are those naval assets you promised us?" "They'll be here promptly. Just hold position and do what you can to keep that battleship away from the facility," Guaverra replied. "Understood," Orlex acknowledged. "Reaper-1 out." I loaded my weapons systems and checked my systems one last time. "Reaper-1, I'm ready to ready to rock and roll whenever you are." "Alright, Ceres-1. Let's get this done," Jaeger confirmed, the tone of his voice shifting to one of determination. It was time to take on the Jormungand.

Sarathi Sea Daggaknott, Sheratan III Sheratan System - Tikonov Free Republic October 27, 3030 ______________________________________________ Never in my life did I envision a scenario in which I'd be underwater, beneath the seas of Sheratan, facing off with a submarine from within the confines of my BattleMech's cockpit. Yet, here I was, staring down the torpedo tubes of a Neptune warship, my 'Mech's right arm outstretched, holding my autocannon steady as I took aim. The submarine's nose-mounted large laser began to glow as its torpedo tubes darkened, a sure indication that not only was it getting ready to fire again, but that it was preparing to hit me for a third time as well. "Ceres-1, what's your status?" Commander Jaeger barked over the comms, his voice laced with concern. "Still alive, sir," I responded, trying my best to sound calm and collected despite the dire situation I found myself in. "Got a Capellan submarine standing between me and the Jormungand. Did a number on my rear armor. I'm concerned that there's not a lot I can do to it with my Shadow Hawk. It's armed and armored to kill." "Copy that, Ceres-1," Jaeger answered. "Hang in there." I was about to reply when the Neptune suddenly fired its laser, the coherent light dazzling in the aquatic depths as it lanced out towards me. I shoved my 'Mech's controls forward, its movements slow and ponderous in the water, and managed to pass underneath the submarine's hull just in time. As the ship drove directly over me, I took aim at its propellers, hoping to disable it before it could come about and fire again. My autocannon roared as it sent a steady stream of slugs towards the Neptune's stern, a thick trail of bubbles in the wake of the bullets. I watched as the rounds impacted, gnawing at the ship's drives but not doing enough damage to stop it. I fired my medium laser as well, but to no avail. The ship was slowly beginning a turn, the torpedo tubes starting to swing around into view. I kept my Shadow Hawk moving counter to the submarine's direction, aiming to create a wide berth between us. Pushing to get behind the ship again, I managed to get its engine nacelles in my sights once more. I let loose with another volley, this time scoring a hit on the Neptune's port engine. A bloom of angry smoke and oil spouted from the damaged engine, the propeller coming to an abrupt halt as its power was severed. But I wasn't out of the woods yet. The ship still retained its starboard engine, and could thus still execute a turn, if I didn't take it out. I laboriously maneuvered the Shadow Hawk around, the weight of the water making it slow and ungainly. I lined up my autocannon, sending another salvo of rounds at the Neptune's starboard engine. The rounds all hit, their explosions causing the driveshaft of the engine to shudder violently. I brought my medium laser to bear as well, the beam of coherent light bathing the wrecked engine in a blinding blue light. The propeller died violently, leaving the Capellan warship with only its center drive. While I would have preferred to take that out as well, crippling the ship's ability to turn was my original objective, and I decided to cut my losses and head toward the Jormungand. "Ceres-1 to any available units," I radioed, "I've knocked out the submarine's maneuvering drives. I'm en route to the battleship at this time. Any fire support you can provide is greatly appreciated." "Acknowledged, Ceres-1," came the reply from Commander Jaeger. "We're still a little bogged down up here, but we'll see what we can get headed your way. Continue on target." I nodded, pushing my BattleMech forward, its heavy footfalls propelling me through the murky water. I had no idea what I would find when I reached the Jormungand, but I had to believe that whatever it threw my way, I could handle it. That was what I had been trained for, and that was what I was ready for.

Hollingsworth Agrifoods Daggaknott, Sheratan III Sheratan System - Tikonov Free Republic October 27, 3030 ______________________________________________ In battle, situational awareness is everything. You can't always trust the data you're being fed. You have to rely on your own intuition, your own eyes, and your own ears. You have to maintain a 360-degree view of the engagement at all times and keep track of your enemy's movements, even while you're under fire and overwhelmed by the chaos of a full-scale assault. Fortunately, on the battlefield, there are two kinds of time — long time and slow time. Long time is what you usually get. You sit beneath a tree or in a hooch or in a field tent, or maybe you’re tiptoeing single file through the boonies, and nothing happens. Hours pass, and nothing happens. Then you look at the clock and discover that it has only been five minutes since the last time you looked at it. Long time. The other kind of time is slow time. There’s a flat metallic snap, the receiver of an assault rifle chambering a round. Then, there's fire and explosions and screams and the whine of bullets all around, each one aimed at you for unending eternity. And when, after hours of hot terror, and no little rage, the shooting stops, you come back from hell and glance at the clock. Guess what? Five minutes have passed since the last time you looked at it. Slow time. As the elements of Aegis Division collided headlong with the unknown hostile force that had dug itself in on the shore of the Sarathi Sea, I felt that slow time. My Shadow Hawk was a moving target, my viewports a dizzying canvas of laser streaks and smoke trails from rockets, and the air was thick with the smell of burning metal, scorched earth, and ozone. I'd been in a few firefights in my time, but none of them had been so chaotic, so intense. I had to stay focused, stay sharp, and be ready to make split-second decisions that could mean the difference between victory and defeat. I took a quick mental inventory of our current situation - Dexter Friedman and Idris Nasir were keeping the bulk of the mechanized and foot infantry busy, while Steve Jenkins managed to sink the Monitor warship and then bait a Panther BattleMech away from the main force, leading it toward a trifecta of siloes. Nick Schuster had felled an Enforcer and was now seeking his next target. Marius Lennox and Orlex Jaeger were bearing down on a GLD-5R Gladiator that stood between them and the shoreline. All the while, the Jormungand battleship was raining artillery rounds down on us while its Silverfin escort sniped at our flanks with its machine guns. I needed to do something to mitigate the attrition we were slowly taking. My Shadow Hawk could operate in the water, although it was a bit of a gamble to try to go sub-aquatic in the middle of a firefight. My autocannon's punch would be severely diminished, and my missiles and laser wouldn't work at all. But I had to take it. I took a deep breath and pushed my throttle forward, driving full bore toward the shoreline. All manner of explosions, tracer rounds, streaking missiles, and laser beams pummelled my Mech, but I kept my eyes fixed on the Jormungand, and as I passed by the Gladiator, I drew the Shadow Hawk's right hand across its torso and then snapped it outward, slapping aside a group of five armored troopers who were in the process of assembling a squad assault weapon. I heard their screams as they tumbled away, and I felt a grim satisfaction as I continued my charge. Just as I was about to dive into the sea, I felt my Shadow Hawk shudder and shake as a barrage of PPC fire from the Jormungand slammed into it. My instrument displays flickered and rolled under the EMP effect, but I kept pushing forward, ignoring the malfunctions and continuing my drive into the water. As my war machine's legs hit the water, I was thrown against my harness by the 'Mech's abrupt deceleration and the shockwaves of multiple explosions that were taking place around me. In a matter of seconds, my Shadow Hawk was fully submerged. Before my cockpit canopy was the blue-green abyss of the Sarathi Sea, and in the distance, I could see the hulls of the Jormungand and the Silverfin, their inky-black silhouettes blotting out the shimmering rays of the rising like monsters from an ancient fable. I felt a strange calm, a kind of peace, in the midst of the chaos as I took inventory of which of the BattleMech's systems remained operational underwater. As I'd anticipated, most of my weapons were useless, and the range of my sensors had been significantly reduced, but I still had some mobility and could move around the sea floor. "Ceres-1 to Reaper-1," I radioed quietly, pushing the Shadow Hawk forward. "I've made it to the water and am sub-aquatic. All systems nominal. I'm going to see what I can do to put a cramp in the Jormungand's style." "Copy that, Reaper-1," replied Commander Jaeger, his tone surprisingly cool and composed despite the overt sounds of violence erupting in the background of his transmission "We're still bogged down up here. What's the plan?" "There's no chance I'm going to be able to sink that monster with a single AC/5. So, I'm going to try to take out their steering," I replied. "It's a long shot, but if I'm successful, it should screw with their ability to target those Long Toms. It's the best I can do at the moment." "Roger that, Reaper-1. Be careful out there," said Commander Jaeger. I nodded to myself, grateful for the trust he was placing in me. "Will do, sir. Reaper-1 out." Toggling on the image enhancement filters of my targeting computer, I swung my Shadow Hawk around, its feet scraping against the sandy sea floor. With any luck, I could make it to the Jormungand and be back in time to help finish putting down the rest of the enemy forces. But no sooner had I made it about halfway to the battleship than a sudden, tremendous explosion rocked my Shadow Hawk, sending it reeling forward in an overdramatic fashion in the buoyant environment. "What the hell?" I shouted as damage alarms wailed and the battle computer indicated the loss of nearly 50% of my rear armor. Reclaiming the Shadow Hawk's balance and bringing it about to face my new assailant, I couldn't believe what I saw. Less than 600 meters away, emerging from the murky half-light of the depths, was what my targeting computer identified as a Neptune submarine. It was bristling with an LRT-20 launcher, two SRT-6s, and a large laser. On its bow was emblazoned with an emblem of a green arm raising a green dao sword, against a green triangle, edged in gold. The Capellan Confederation had returned to Sheratan.

Hollingsworth Agrifoods Daggaknott, Sheratan III Sheratan System - Tikonov Free Republic October 27, 3030 ______________________________________________ In the AFFS, we had a saying: security force operations were comprised of long periods of boredom punctuated by moments of sheer terror. Less than an hour ago, I'd been patrolling blighted crops, looking for evidence of intentional sabotage. Long periods of boredom. Now, I was in the cockpit of my 'Mech, preparing to engage an enormous hostile force of unknown composition. Moments of sheer terror. "Reaper-1 to all units," Commander Jaeger announced on the Aegis-wide comm channel, "fall in and report status." "Ceres-1, ready op," I responded, pushing my Shadow Hawk's throttle to its limit to catch up with the commander's Mongoose. "Reaper-2, ready op," Marius Lennox chimed in, his nearly-identical Mongoose trailing close behind me on my left flank. "Reaper-3, ready op," crackled the voice of Steve Jenkins. His Crab was lumbering along on the right side of the formation, its pincers opening and closing repeatedly as the MechWarrior checked his systems. "Reaper-4, ready op," Nick Schuster added, his squat, slow-moving UrbanMech bringing up the rear. "Alright, team," Jaeger announced, "here's the situation. We're picking up a large unidentified force incoming from the north; Hermes-1 and Home Plate have identified mixed-composition infantry, a Silverfin warship, and a pair of Sea Skimmers, backed by a BattleMech landing craft, likely about to land more troops on us. To complicate matters more, Doc's advising we've got a Jormungand and a Monitor hanging off the coast. While we're all in BattleMechs, keep in mind that the Jormungand is specifically designed to inflict pain on land-based targets. That includes us. That ship is packing artillery pieces, PPCs, autocannons, long-range missile launchers, and torpedo batteries, and it will not hesitate to use them. The Monitor is a lighter ship, but it's still got a pair of AC/20s that'll ruin your day if you get too close, and it's fast enough to stay out of the Jormungand's way. "Home Plate is vectoring in some reinforcements, but it's up to us to hold the line until they arrive. Hermes-1 and Ceres-3 are going to handle infantry crowd control until the Bridgeburners and Aces Wild arrive. I want all of us focused on the bigger targets, including whatever emerges from those landing vehicles. Remember that our employers have been emphatic about us mitigating property damage to the surviving crops whenever possible, so check your fire and your navigation. No one's getting paid if this turns into a scorched-earth operation. Questions?" "Sir," I spoke up, "what's our primary target?" "The Jormungand, Ceres-1. We need to take that thing out of commission, fast. Once we do, the rest of the force will be a lot more manageable." "Got it," I replied. "Then let's move in," Jaeger commanded. "Remember, stay frosty out there. We don't know who these guys are. Stay sharp and stay alive. Reaper-1 out." "Frosty," I muttered to myself, cycling my Shadow Hawk's autocannon as I followed the commander toward the oncoming force. Moments of sheer terror, indeed.

Hollingsworth Agrifoods Daggaknott, Sheratan III Sheratan System - Tikonov Free Republic October 27, 3030 ______________________________________________ I watched, partially in fascination, and partially in amusement, as Commander Jaeger piloted the KIC-5 Worker Beetle AgroMech slowly out of the warehouse, its quadruped locomotion giving it a slight rolling gait. Its internal combustion system and lack of a neural interface presented a less fluid movement than that of a BattleMech, but the Commander seemed to have no trouble navigating the machine through the staging area. "How's the ride in that thing, Reaper-1?" I called over the radio. The AgroMech trundled to a stop before Jaeger replied. "It's definitely different, Ceres-1," he said. "But I'm getting the hang of it. We should be able to survey the fields without doing too much damage. Just make sure to keep your Phoenix Hawk on the perimeter and let me handle the deep cover." "Roger that, Reaper-1," I said, bringing my 'Mech around in a wide arc. Together, we pushed forward toward the ravaged southern fields that wrapped around the opposite side of the farm from where Marius, Steve, Idris, and Nick were performing their assessments. I hadn't heard whether they'd been successful in turning up anything that indicated possible sources of the blight, which was frustrating, since I didn't really know myself what we were looking for. As Jaeger's Worker Beetle disappeared into the tall, withered crops, I pushed my Phoenix Hawk up along the outer perimeter of the field, following the roadway that cut straight through the center of the farmstead. The light of the rising sun cast long shadows and a golden hue over the landscape, accentuating the peaks and valleys of the uneven, broken ground. I stole a quick glance at the fields on either side of the road and felt a wave of sadness wash over me. What had once been the lifeblood of the local economy was now in ruins. The idea that someone would do this deliberately was beyond comprehension. Seeing nothing I'd consider to be "weird" with my naked eyes, I decided to let the 'Mech's sensors do a scan of the area. As the targeting-tracking platform activated, I heard a slight chirp from my console, followed by a message from Commander Jaeger. "Ceres-1, I've got some heavy tracks in the deep cover here that appear to have been made by a large vehicle and have wiped out a lot of crops. I'm guessing whoever was driving wasn't one of the farmers. I'm going to see if I can nail down what they were doing out here." "Roger that, Reaper-1," I replied. "I'm scanning the area now, but I'm not picking up anything yet. I'll keep my sensors active and stay on the perimeter." "Copy that. Be careful out there." "Will do, Reaper-1." As the sensors finished their sweep, a topographical wireframe of the surrounding terrain, out to a distance of about 800 meters, appeared on the visor of my helmet, annotated with a series of metallic hits that the Phoenix Hawk's computer had identified as possible points of interest. I zoomed in on one of the closer hits, raising an eyebrow as I realized that the BattleMech had highlighted an exposed segment of extremely bulky outflow pipe that'd been uncovered by erosion. "That shouldn't be here," I muttered. I quickly relayed what I'd found to Commander Jaeger before pushing closer for a better look. As I approached, I reconfigured the Phoenix Hawk's radar into an improvised ground-penetrating mode, looking for any other anomalies that might lurk beneath the surface. After a few minutes, I was rewarded with a faint blip at the edge of the pipe, about two meters down, and I realized that the enormous segment of plumbing wasn't an isolated artifact. It was part of something much larger. Below the surface, the BattleMech's targeting system had managed to capture an image of what looked like a large turbine of some kind, with multiple conduits connecting it to a network of pipes and chambers that seemed to be buried in a criss-cross pattern beneath the fields. "Reaper-1, I got a hit here," I reported. "Looks like a turbine and some really big liquid handling pipes. Bigger than what you'd expect on a farm." "Interesting," Orlex responded. "Stand by. Reaper-1 to Home Plate." "Home Plate," Mallory's voice crackled. "Home Plate, have we got those infrastructure maps from the Prefect's office yet? We're seeing some odd stuff here that doesn't seem to have any business being on a farm." "We got them, Reaper-1," Mallory said. "I'm sending them to you now." I watched as the maps appeared on my visor, and my suspicion was confirmed. The official records didn't reflect a plumbing project of this scale, nor did they indicate any kind of turbine or liquid handling equipment. We were dealing with something that didn't exist on paper. "Looks like we got a mystery on our hands," I said, shaking my head. "Maybe," the Commander replied. "Let's continue scoping things out. Send your data to Mallory and Levi so they can start running it against the maps. We need to figure out what's going on here." "Copy that, Reaper-1," I replied, before turning the Phoenix Hawk towards the next point of interest. No matter what we found, I knew that this was going to be a long day.

Shortly thereafter... Southern Central Express En route to Daggaknott, Sheratan III Sheratan System - Tikonov Free Republic October 27, 3030 ______________________________________________ The extremely early morning light spilled through the windows of the private dining car, casting the various elements of our breakfast - coffee, poached eggs, toast, and fresh fruit - in a warm, golden glow. I sat beside Commander Orlex Jaeger, listening through a fog of fatigue as Tribune José Guevara outlined our mission parameters. "When we arrive at Daggaknott shortly, we'll have the airship waiting for you at the rail depot," José explained. "You two, and your senior staff, will board it and remain embarked while it performs an aerial circuit of the impacted crops. You'll perform a survey and collect any data you need for your intelligence analysts and to establish an exclusion zone around the site." I nodded, stifling a yawn. "Understood, Tribune. Though I have to ask - is there any possibility we can do this once the crew is fully awake and functional? At such an early hour, there's a good possibility things could get missed." José looked at me over the rim of his coffee cup, his expression stern. "Why do you think we're doing this so early? We do not want the public to see an enormous Zeppelin, loaded with mercenaries, performing an aerial survey of the blighted crops that are supposed to be helping feed them." I frowned. "I see. So, when you said that you wanted to keep this job low-key, you really meant it." José nodded. "Precisely. The less attention we draw to this, the better. The last thing we need is panic." I leaned back in my chair, glancing at Commander Jaeger. "Exactly how are we gonna handle this? Every 'surveyor' we have on the crew is either a MechWarrior or a technician. The closest thing we have to a scientist on the cadre is Mallory Aldon, and he's a combat medic," I complained. Jaeger shrugged. "We'll have to make do with what we have. Besides, it's not like we're going to be performing a full analysis - we just need to get a sense of where this blight exists, how far it's spread, and the cause behind the whole thing." I sighed. "Yes, sir, you're right, of course, but I feel like the Prefect is asking us to perform an exercise in futility. We see dead crops, that's the extent of what we're gonna be able to suss out." "Hey, I'm right here," Tribune Guevera groused. "And I'll have you know that I have full faith in your ability to get the job done." I held up my hands in a placating gesture. "My apologies, Tribune. I didn't mean to imply otherwise." Guevara waved away my apology. "No, no, it's quite alright. I understand your skepticism. But I believe in you, Lieutenant." I nodded, trying to quell the feeling of unease that was building in the pit of my stomach. "Alright, I appreciate that, sir. We'll do our best." We spent the ensuing few minutes or so finishing our breakfast and making final preparations for our mission. The next thing I knew, the monorail was gliding into Daggaknott's depot. I gathered my gear and followed the others off of the train, squinting in the bright morning light. A small crowd had gathered near the platform, and I could see the telltale signs of astonishment in their faces. I turned to Tribune Guevara. "Tribune, what's going on?" José glanced toward the western horizon, where an enormous Zeppelin was drawing ever closer. "That, my friend, is our ride," he smiled. A few moments later, the enormous airship came to a stop directly before us, slowly easing its girth down into a parking lot across the street from the rail station. Commander Jaeger let out a low whistle. "That is one big damn ship." I nodded. "That it is, sir." "Once you're done ogling the transport," José interrupted, "I suggest you get you and whatever crew you need aboard. We need to get this show underway." Orlex nodded an agreement. "Consider it done."

Two days later... Gellen's Heights Monorail Station - Platform 2 Gellen's Heights, Sheratan III Sheratan System - Tikonov Free Republic October 26, 3030 ______________________________________________ We'd spent the last 48 hours in a flurry of hectic logistical wrangling, during which time a bevy of cranes, flatbeds, and other assets from the Tikonov Free Republic arrived under the cover of night to ship our BattleMechs, armor units, and support vehicles to the Daggaknott rail depot. Once we'd finished loading up the caravan, another transport arrived - this one a dark-colored bus with heavily-tinted windows - pulling directly up to the front doors of Site 187 to receive the personnel who would be deploying on the mission. It was clear that the local government wanted to keep this operation under wraps; no sooner had the last Aegis Division staff member boarded the bus than it quickly pulled off the curb, ferrying us at high speed to the Gellen's Heights monorail station. I now stood on the platform at the monorail station beside Doc Mallory, waiting for the 10:30 PM Southern Central Express to arrive. All around us milled various other Aegis Division personnel, most of whom were quiet, lost in their own thoughts as they contemplated the late hour and the unusual nature of the mission we were about to embark on. As a cool breeze wafted lazily through the station, I glanced at Mallory, noticing a small, rectangular cube clutched protectively in his hands. Although it was probably medical equipment that went beyond my understanding, with nothing but time to kill, I decided to strike up a conversation. "So, what's that, Mal?" I asked, gesturing at the appliance. Mallory looked toward me with an expression of surprise. It was probably unusual for a MechWarrior to take any interest in medical sciences beyond what was involved in battlefield triage. "Oh, this?" Mallory replied, holding up the cube. "It's Curie's Riemann matrix. I didn't want to risk sending it ahead of us on the trucks." "Curie? You mean that medical AI from the infirmary? Why are you bringing that? Is there something wrong with it?" "No, no - she's on loan to us for field testing, and I wanted to do a little field test of my own. Last week, I borrowed some 'Mech Techs and had them cannibalize a couple of holovision sets for their emitters, and install them in the Pandora's trailer. I'm going to connect her to the recovery truck's secondary computer system so we can have access to her diagnostics and medical advice while we're on maneuvers," the doctor explained. I raised an eyebrow. "You mean to tell me you're going to have a hologram wandering around the inside of Levi's truck? You sure that won't freak people out?" Mallory smiled and shook his head. "Commander Jaeger already greenlit the idea. She'll basically be an Eligus Diagnoser with a talking interface. Plus, it'll be interesting to see how she'll adapt to the change of scenery." Just then, the rumble of an approaching monorail echoed through the station. Mallory quickly tucked the cube under his arm and grabbed his bag, nodding toward the oncoming train as it pulled up to the station. The monorail gleamed in the lights of the station as it glided to a stop, its long consist of sleek, gray-colored passenger cars stretching out behind it. "I think this is us," Mallory announced, tucking the cube under his arm and grabbing his duffel bag. I nodded, watching the train disgorge its passengers. A few minutes later, the boarding announcement was made and we quickly filed onto the train. I'd never ridden on Sheratan's monorail system, and the opulent interior of the coaches was a stark contrast to the sterile appearance of the station. Mallory and I wandered down the length of the train until we found our respective sleeper compartments, the local government apparently having booked us two full coaches to keep the Aegis Division personnel together. I slid open the door to my room, tossing my bag onto the bunk and taking in the comfortable interior of the cabin. The bunk, situated immediately below a window, ran the length of the far wall, while a small bureau and a desk were tucked away against the near wall. A closet and a tiny washroom, which doubled as a shower stall, were situated along the remaining walls, just beneath the window. As I settled in and changed into my fatigues, the train lurched gently and began moving forward. I raised the window shade and caught a glimpse of the city lights passing us in a blur as we wound our way out of the metropolis. We'd be on board for at least seven hours before we reached Daggaknott, and so I thought I'd took the opportunity to get some rest. I lay down on the bunk, my hands folded behind my head as I stared out the window at the passing landscape. The steel and ferrocrete concrete jungle of Gellen's Heights gradually gave way to the night-shrouded wilderness, the stars twinkling brightly above us as the train whisked along its route. Suddenly, my comm unit chirped, pulling me back into reality. I withdrew it from its holster and keyed the microphone, not bothering to check the transmitter ID. "Blackwood here," I answered. "It's Jaeger," the voice on the other end of the line replied. "Just wanted to check and make sure my acting XO made it onto the train without issue." "Yes, sir," I chuckled. "I'm here. Cabin's a bit cramped, but otherwise everything's in order." "Good," the commander said. "I'm in compartment B-12, come see me if you need anything. A couple of us are going to head down to the lounge car and get a late dinner. You in?" I glanced at the time on my comm unit, noting that it was just past 11 PM. "I appreciate the invitation, but I think I'll pass," I replied. "I'm going to try and get a few hours of shuteye before we arrive at Daggaknott." "Copy that," Jaeger answered. "I totally understand. If you change your mind, you know where to find us. Oh, also, you might want to set your alarm clock so you don't miss breakfast." "Will do, sir," I responded, before signing off and settling back into my bunk. As I lay there in the dimly-lit cabin, I took a few moments to contemplate the mission ahead. Eventually, the thrumming of the monorail's engines and the gentle rocking of the coach lulled me to sleep, and I drifted off into a deep slumber.

Site 187 - Operations Center Outskirts of Gellen's Heights, Sheratan III Sheratan System - Tikonov Free Republic October 22, 3030 ______________________________________________ "Lieutenant Blackwood?" a voice inquired, heavy with a Middle Eastern accent, as I pored over the details of the upcoming contract we'd landed with the Tikonov Free Republic. The job was an odd one - tracking down the source of a crop blight right here on Sheratan - and I honestly had no idea how to plan battle tactics and maneuvers for what seemed like a scientific gig that wasn't really in our bailiwick. But Commander Jaeger had put his trust in me to figure out how the pieces needed to fit together, so I was going to give it my best shot. I turned away from the plotter to see Technician Idris Nasir standing in the doorway, clad in the jumpsuit traditionally worn beneath battle armor. "Hey there, Idris. What can I do for you?" I asked. "I heard that we might have a new contract beginning soon, and I wish to speak with you about taking a combat assignment," he replied. I frowned. Idris was one of our more talented techs, and I didn't want to lose him to the front lines. "You do, huh?" I asked, leaning against the edge of the large tactical planning table that dominated the center of the room. "Come on in and shut the door." He did as I asked, and I waited for him to speak. "So, what's got you wanting to sling lead instead of grease?" I inquired. "Well, sir, in my spare time, I've been working on a custom Industrial Combat Exoskeleton Suit, or ICE-S for short. I think I'm finally ready to put it to the test in a real-life situation," he replied. I raised an eyebrow. Idris had been working on that suit for months, and I knew it was his baby. "You think it's ready for prime time?" I asked. "I do, sir. I've tested it in every way I can think of, and it's held up beautifully. I'd like to take it into battle and see how it fares," he explained. "In fact, here are the results of its combat tests at the range from this afternoon." He slid a data chip across the table to me, and I inserted it into the reader built into the edge of the table. The screen filled with marksmanship results and critical hit percentages as the data began to scroll by. "Hmm. These are good, Idris. Real good," I murmured, impressed despite myself. "You were in the Free Worlds League military, right?" "Yes, sir," Idris replied, pride evident in his voice despite his thick dialect. "8th Marik Militia, a mechanized unit. Even though my primary duties were those of repair, I saw action in several border skirmishes and various counter-insurgency operations." "And you want to see action again," I stated. "I do, sir. I want to put my skills to use and help Aegis Division in any way I can," he answered. I nodded, understanding his desire. "I get it. Bear in mind that I'm technically not in charge of any personnel decisions. I'm only helping Commander Jaeger out while Captain Maxwell is away. But I'd be happy to put in a good word for you if you think you're really ready for the front lines. You talk to anyone else about this?" I asked. "I did, sir," Idris nodded. "Quartermaster Wright says he approves of my cross-training if it doesn't interfere with my primary duties." "As long as you're sure it won't," I replied. "I'll speak with Commander Jaeger when he gets back from his meeting and let him know that you're interested in a temporary lance assignment during our upcoming deployment. I think he'll be okay with it." "Thank you, Lieutenant," Idris replied, a smile touching the corners of his mouth. "Don't thank me yet," I cautioned. "You might not like what you see out there. It's not all glory, you know." "I understand, sir. I am prepared for whatever comes," he answered, his expression solemn once more. "I hope so, Idris. I really do," I said quietly, lost in thought as I stared at the data still scrolling across the reader. "Things could be really boring or really weird on this job. I just don't know." Idris was silent for a moment before he cleared his throat and spoke again. "I have faith in you, Lieutenant. You will figure it out," he reassured me. I looked up at him and nodded. "I hope so," I repeated. ### A short while later, Commander Jaeger entered the operations center, a stack of data slates tucked under his arm. "How's it going, Alex?" he asked. "Got it all planned out?" I sighed and shook my head. "Not even close, sir. I'm just not sure how to approach this job," I replied, gesturing to the data still displayed on the reader. The commander approached the table and began to scroll through the information on display. "While we're on the subject of challenging decisions, I've got another one to mention to you. Idris Nasir came to see me a short while ago. He'd like a combat posting on this gig. He's apparently been working hard on that custom power armor of his, and he says he's at the point where he wants to see how it does in a real-world scenario. Here's the data he compiled for the command staff's consideration. "Hmm. That's interesting," Orlex murmured his attention shifting to the topic at hand. I passed him the data slate that held the ICE-S performance notes. "I didn't know Idris was that close to being finished with his project." "He seems pretty confident in it. Even showed me the results of some tests he ran at the range earlier today. They're impressive," I replied. "It's all in his report." The commander was silent for a moment as he continued to scan the data. After an extended pause, he spoke. "All right, Alex. You've got the green light to put Idris in a lance if you think he's ready. I trust your judgment. He's a competent technician, and I think he could be an asset on the battlefield. Besides, it's not like we're going to be up against anything too serious on this job." I nodded in agreement. "I was thinking the same thing, sir. I'll brief Idris and get him squared away," I replied. "Good. Keep me updated on your progress," Commander Jaeger requested as he turned to leave the room. "I'll review your initial operation plan in the mean time and see if I've got any recommendations." "Thank you, sir," I answered. As the door clanked shut behind him, I turned back to the table. If nothing else, this was shaping up to be an interesting gig.

Elsewhere...... Messenia Station Geosynchronous orbit, Meredith New Earth (Tau Ceti IV) - Lyran Commonwealth May 5, 3030 _______________________________________________ "JL87UH to Home Plate," the wall-mounted radio speaker crackled, "we're locking up now." I inhaled sharply, trying to bleed off the tension I felt rising in my neck and shoulders as Captain Maxwell's shuttle drew up against the station's airlock. A few moments later, the station gave a soft lurch as the glistening quarterdeck of a sleek, silver-hulled Fury-class DropShip came into view and nestled up against the docking collar. There came a pause, followed by the loud hiss of atmospheres equalizing amid the clatter of multiple locking mechanisms sliding into position. Seconds later, the heavy, cog-shaped hatches that separated the two environments rolled aside, revealing a dimly-lit tunnel leading to the landing craft. I took a cautious step forward, pausing as I saw the silhouettes of Charles Maxwell and Alyssa Chase appear at the end of the corridor. "Mister Trask certainly knows how to give his guests a thrill ride," the Captain enthused, slinging a heavy duffel over his shoulder and passing a second bag to Chase. Alyssa laughed and nodded, striding down the gangway. Registering my presence, a smile spread across her face. "Alexander! So good to see you," Chase beamed, clapping me on the shoulder. Charles, following a short distance behind, extended a firm handshake as he drew near. "Lieutenant," the Captain smiled. "Glad to see you again. I hope you've kept my Catapult in one piece." "Yes, sir," I chuckled, managing a small smile. "Tyche's just as you left her. Probably even a little better, if I'm allowed to say that." "That's why I hired you," Charles replied. "Though, I was expecting we'd be meeting the Tana down on the planet. As comfortable as the Hurry Up Bessie has been, I'd been looking forward to crashing in my own cramped cabin again. That is, if Mara's willing to give it back to me." "Yes, about that, sir," I began, trepidatiously, "that's actually why I requested this change of venue. There's been an incident." Charles' demeanor immediately chilled, becoming deadly serious. Alyssa's expression changed from one of joviality to deep concern. "I'm sorry to spring it on you like this. I did file several reports, but it looks like they got tied up in the HPG grid and didn't make it to the Hurry Up Bessie before you made planetfall," I explained. "Can we go somewhere private?" ### Ward room 3L - Messenia Station Geosynchronous orbit, Meredith New Earth (Tau Ceti IV) - Lyran Commonwealth May 5, 3030 _______________________________________________ The blue-green surface of New Earth cast long, glowing columns of reflected light through the low-slung windows of the lower-level conference room as Maxwell and Chase sat across the table from me. I took another deep breath. If my years in the AFFS had taught me one thing, it was that there was simply no way to gently break the news of a death, let alone that of a close colleague. The best way out was through. "During our most recent contract with the Federated Suns, a security detail on Basalt in which we were tasked with garrisoning the fusion generators in Controssa alongside the Fourth Crucis Lancers, the Capellans ambushed our position from orbit. We suspect that they used satellite override codes - codes that hadn't been changed since their recent occupation of the world - to shut down a significant part of the planetary detection grid and slip a DropShip into the atmosphere during the blackout. They hot-dropped four lances of BattleMechs directly on our position in a bid to either take the power stations or destroy them - we still aren't quite sure what their end objective was. The Lancers bore the brunt of the assault; I guess the Capellans had some previous bad blood for them and decided to favor them as targets, but we weren't exactly spared either," I began. "Go on," Maxwell prompted. "Sir, I regret to tell you that we lost Commander Walsh and we very nearly lost Dexter and Marius as well." The Captain let out a palpable sigh. Alyssa covered her mouth; her eyes wide and eyebrows raised with sorrow. I looked down at my hands momentarily. "What happened?" Charles pressed, his voice low to the point of being almost a whisper. "A Thunder Hawk landed meters from her position and turned all three of its gauss rifles on her cockpit before she could get the King Crab into a shooting solution. She didn't even have a chance to fire a shot. Dexter and Marius caught the brunt of the rest of the lance as it touched down," I continued. "They didn't fare much better but managed to make it out alive and formed up with the Lancers. I was only able to stay in the fight at all thanks to your Catapult's jump jets - as we were realizing that we had BattleMechs literally raining down on us, I pushed off and took up position on the roof of one of the fusion stations." Charles stared out the viewports of the conference room, looking down on Meredith as a bank of clouds slowly passed over the northern continent. The only sound in the room was the low thrum of the environmental system. Chase looked at me from across the table, pain in her expression. "I'm sorry - I wish I didn't have to be the bearer of this news," I continued. "What other attrition did we suffer?" Captain Maxwell asked, turning his attention back toward me. "Well, the Orion lost both arms and one of its leg actuators got shattered. Dexter cracked a couple of ribs and is going to be laid up until the end of this week at least. The Marauder is just about totaled. Its reactor was going critical, but somehow, Marius was able to cook off most of the explosion before bailing out. He got some pretty bad burns and fractured his arm when his pod came down, but all of that is healing nicely. We managed to salvage a Rifleman from the conflict, and the King Crab should be operable again if we can find another cockpit," I explained, bringing up a wireframe of the post-engagement situation report on the conference room's screen. "So what does that leave us?" Alyssa asked. "Assuming all of the hardware you took to the Outworlds can be brought back up to snuff apart from the Phoenix Hawk LAM, right now, we have a Catapult, a Dragon, a Merlin, a Raven, two Shadow Hawks and two Mongooses, an assortment of tanks, and a Battlemaster. There's also that UrbanMech in storage. Further, as I understand it, there's a Cataphract we're picking up here. I don't know if Baroness Incendio is staying on, but if so, that's another Raven in our favor." Charles nodded an affirmation. "The problem is, we only have one DropShip - it's still the Tana, so we're limited in what we can field, and some of our best options for stacking the deck in our favor are off the table indefinitely," Captain Maxwell summarized. "That's a bridge we're going to have to cross quickly." "Yes, sir, I suppose so," I responded. "Again, I'm deeply sorry that this is the situation to which you're returning. I wish it could have been anything else." "This is the life we've chosen," Charles responded quietly. "We have to roll with the hands it deals us. You did the right thing by taking charge and getting the Tana here safely. I'm assuming you're working with a skeleton command staff at the moment." "Yes, sir, that's the case. Tana's at docking port 2, over by the repair yard where that giant Excalibur is laid up. I've got a bunch of our enlisted folks helping manage things right now. They should still be able to receive the cargo from the Montrose and anything else that Lieutenant Jaeger and Warrant Officer Schuster are planning to bring aboard," I explained. "Very good," Captain Maxwell acknowledged. "Well, the first order of business is to get you some help. Chase, given your prior experience with administrative duties in our unit, effective immediately, I'm field promoting you to First Lieutenant." Alyssa nodded solemnly. "Mister Blackwood, I need you to back Lieutenant Chase and help her get the house in order. Tap Warrant Officer Schuster as needed for help with any of the I.T. responsibilities that Marius would normally be carrying out," Charles continued. "Yes, Captain," I answered. "Thank you for bringing us up to speed. I assume that Aegis Division at large knows about this loss," Captain Maxwell prompted. "They do," I replied. "There is a memorial service planned on Sheratan when we return home. It's a small gathering of crew and friends that were local. Mara had no immediate family listed in her personnel file. You are both, of course, invited." "Thank you. I'll break the news to the part of the crew that's been embarked on the Oberon expedition. I understand you're slated to meet with Lieutenant Orlex about the cargo next?" Maxwell asked. "Yes, sir, I'm meeting him in twenty minutes," I confirmed. "Very well. Please send him here once you're squared away," Charles requested. "Chase, can you accompany Lieutenant Blackwood in case he needs anything?" "Thank you, sir, but given what I've just dropped on both of you, I'm sure I can handle talking to Orl - " I began. "I need some time. To look over these reports," Maxwell replied, tersely. I glanced at Alyssa, who nodded knowingly. "Understood, sir. Of course. I'll have Jaeger head your way once we're done."

Some time later... M.V. Tana Aegis Division staging area Great Banded Desert, Nirasaki February 7, 3029 ___________________________ The hatch to the medical bay crashed open, an oversized stretcher carrying a hulking, haggard-looking soldier enveloped in three-quarters of a suit of power armor. Flanking the stretcher were four medics, one of whom held an IV drip bag aloft with one hand while moving the stretcher with the other. Behind the gurney in close formation were Captain Maxwell - still wearing a full suit of MechWarrior combat armor, minus the helmet - Steve Jenkins, and a young man with a crew cut and a pair of sunglasses pushed above his forehead who I didn't recognize. "Clear the way!" Captain Maxwell called out, patients and orderlies stepping away from the oncoming stretcher as it quickly bypassed the waiting area and disappeared into the intensive care unit. A doctor, accompanied by MediBot, sprinted behind the group, shouting a series of instructions to the robot and the medics. I glanced toward the curtained-off area, listening to the bits and pieces of conversation that I could make out among the commotion. "Bishop Weyland...he's Crayven Corporation's strategic operations manager. We thought he'd been KIA during combat maneuvers last week, but he turned up during our operation today. Seemed really out of it and looked like a bit like death warmed over. Disoriented. Almost catatonic at times. Right before we bugged out, one of our infantrymen on loan - Sergeant Miles - passed me this note. On our ride back to the Tana, Bishop fell out in the APC. We couldn't wake him." "'HE NEEDS TO GET MEDICAL... IT’S SLOWLY KILLING HIM. TIME IS SHORT.' Well, that cuts right to the chase. Captain Maxwell, do you know if he's been taking any medications?" "I don't, but - " "I can answer that question, doctor." "And you are?" "Nathan Schmidt. Yeah. That's like half the reason we had the medics wheel the entire suit of armor in here rather than try to get him out of it. The other half is that this thing is apparently keeping him alive, in addition to dosing him every ten minutes. Anyway, when I was uplinked into its system I saw that it's pumping him full of all kinds of stuff. ChemCourage and Rage. Adrenaline. A shit-ton of painkillers." "You didn't happen to get the specific dosages, did you?" "No...but I bet I can hack back into the suit and - " I jumped up from my chair and shoved my way into the ICU, catching a number of glares from the medical staff as I did so. "WAIT!" I exclaimed. Maxwell, Schmidt, Jenkins, and the physician all froze, their heads snapping toward me at the outburst. "Blackwood? You weren't invited back here," the doctor grumbled, a mixture of irritation and surprise in the question. "This area is off-limits to..." "Don't try to hack the suit," I interrupted. Captain Maxwell stared at me, eyes wide with confusion. "Alright, I'm listening," Charles answered, crossing his arms over his chest. Behind him, two medics frantically worked to connect a heart monitor to Weyland's upper torso, one of the few areas of flesh exposed beneath the thick, dark-toned armor. "If that thing is keeping him on life support, I guarantee you it's got defenses. At best, they're external only - meaning that if you're lucky, it'll just try to overload your hardware and maybe even maim the hacker driving it, in the process," I explained. "Oh, joy," Schmidt muttered, dropping his sunglasses down over his eyes and leaning jauntily on the side of the stretcher as he cracked a wad of chewing gum in his mouth. "At worst, it'll flip a dead-man switch and try to juice Weyland into a combat state, and if he's tripping balls on some combat drugs already, there's no telling what this infirmary will look like when he comes down off of that high. I expect we'd be looking for a new medical staff and a new unit commander, though - no offense, sir." I continued. "None taken. How exactly do you know all of this?" Charles asked. "I used to be a black market arms dealer, remember? I didn't exactly come by a lot of my merchandise legitimately," I quipped. "I'll consider you an authoritative source on the topic, then," Maxwell nodded. "Alright, so, what do we do?" "Can't you just shut the suit down?" I asked. "Cut over to life support systems in the medical bay?" "If I remember correctly, that's easier said than done," Charles answered, looking toward Nathan Schmidt, who nodded silently in response. "Yeah. It's got dogs," Nathan replied. "Dogs?" Steve Jenkins asked, a hint of laughter in his tone. "Watchdogs. Sub-programs to protect the operator. If I mess with any of them, the whole defense system could fire off," Nathan explained. "Well, you guys are missing the obvious!" Jenkins replied, with an over-the-top swagger. "Why don't you just ask Bishop to turn it off?" Captain Maxwell looked toward the doctor. "I'm going to defer to you on this one, doc. How bad is he? What do we need to do here?"

Black Eclipse Discovery Site Great Banded Desert, Nirasaki January 31, 3029 ___________________________ The elements of Hammer and Anvil lances swarmed the outer wall of the pirate compound like a horde of predators overwhelming their prey. All manner of green, blue, and red flashes of energy discharges pounded the towering obstacle, along with myriad projectile impacts, causing a section of it to buckle in stages under the assault. Marius Lennox, temporarily in command of my CPLT-C1 Catapult, 'Tyche,' hung back behind the main charge alongside my newly-acquired LGB-7Q Longbow, to leverage the ranged effectiveness of our LRM launchers as we drew beads on the target objective. As my targeting computer screamed a lock on the intended destination, my radar board lit up with the arrival of four new unknown bogies, making their way into the compound from the northwest, and coming under immediate assault as they did so. Quickly, I toggled a channel open to Marius to confirm what I'd just seen. "Hey, Mantis, you seeing this? I've got four new tangoes with unknown IFF on a vector into the compound, and they're not being spared the unfriendly reception." "Yeah, I see it too, what do you make of it?" Lennox replied. "I don't know. I'm uploading my telemetry data to the Republic. Maybe they can get a fix on who that is. Considering that they're also getting attacked, they might be on our side - comparatively speaking, anyway." "Roger that. I'm also ready to light this wall up when you are," Marius acknowledged. "Let's do it," I answered, squeezing the trigger for my missile suites and letting fly a devastating salvo of fifty warheads. Simultaneously, another thirty exited the launchers of Tyche, the two flights of rockets converging on the same trajectory and combining in the air into a single, gigantic plume of glowing smoke as they arced toward their targets. Seconds later, a thunderous series of chain explosions blossomed across the face of the wall, the section that was at the focal point of our attack finally giving way under the siege. As the dust cleared, Hammer and Anvil lances poured through the opening and were thrown into immediate, brutal combat.

No sooner had the words escaped Charles' mouth than the Wolverine made a sudden and unexpected lunge in my direction, swinging its left leg at me in an apparent attempt to inflict what had the potential to be devastating melee damage on my Catapult. "Shit!" I cried out, pushing backward on Tyche's controls. However, the maneuver was entirely needless. In an incredible turn of events, mid-kick, the Kuritan pilot appeared to lose control of his war machine. As its leg swung toward me, the biped heeled over sharply, flailing momentarily before toppling forward and crashing into the ground face-first. I stared in stupefied silence for a moment, transfixed by what I'd just seen. However, attention was quickly brought back to the battle by the heavy drilling sound of the CRB-20 Crab laying down a barrage of covering laser fire for his fallen lancemate. The impact scored a critical hit, blowing out a series of relays within my cockpit, sending a shower of sparks erupting from behind a nearby access panel, and, irritatingly, causing Steve Jenkins to scream in terror. Simultaneously, the Wolverine rose to its feet, and unleashed a salvo of autocannon, laser, and missile fire at Captain Maxwell's King Crab. Quickly, I drew my sights on the 55-ton brawler and assailed its left leg and torso with quad lances of medium laser fire. Incredibly, both the Crab and the Wolverine completely ignored me, both turning their fire on the Captain's 'Mech and pummeling it from two sides. I opened fire on the Crab again, all four shots flying wide. "Hammer-1, this is looking like it's turning ugly - tell me what you need me to do to get at least one of these guys off of you!" I shouted into my comm unit. "Concentrate on the Crab, Hammer-3. I've got something special coming for the Wolverine."

"Steve," I gasped, squinting through the downpour at the haggard-looking figure before me, "are you - hurt?" "Oh man, I don't know," Steve replied dazedly. "Right now, everything hurts. I got blew up real good." "That much is obvious," I replied, gesturing toward Jenkins' ruined Hetzer and his own tattered clothes. "But it looks like you're on your feet. That's encouraging, and such being the case, we need to get off the ground quickly. It's only a matter of time before the Kuritans figure out that there are two unprotected targets out here to shoot at." Abruptly, Steve dissolved into tears. "I feel dishonorable," he bawled. I stared at him awkwardly, before giving him an uncomfortable pat on the shoulder. "There there," I replied. "You'll, uh, feel more honorable up in the rumble seat. Come on. Let's go." *** I dropped down into Tyche's cockpit, my soggy boots heralding my arrival with a wet squish. Steve Jenkins soon followed, his mud-covered feet immediately shooting out from underneath him and sending his body crashing to the deck with an equally-wet punctuation. "Oh god, it's going to take forever to clean this up," I muttered. Steve's landing had covered everything within a meter's radius in a fine spatter of mud. "I'm sorry!" Steve continued to bawl, practically screaming with emotion. "Nothing is going right this mission!" "Uhh...like I said, it's...fine - what's the matter? What are you doing?" Jenkins had suddenly frozen in place, one hand clapped over his mouth and another over his rear end. "I'm sorry," he replied, speaking through his hand. "When I get stress, I sometimes double dragon." "That's...horrifying." I replied. "Um, let's get you on the rumble seat," I continued, taking Steve by the arm and leading him forward in the cockpit. "The rumble seat is back there," Steve interjected, glancing aft. "Yeah, but given your current...state," I explained, "your rumble seat is up here." I flipped open the lid of the cockpit's built-in waste disposal unit. "Make yourself comfortable," I replied. "Point whichever end is experiencing an issue into the receptacle." Jenkins stared at me blankly. Then, wordlessly, still clenching a hand over his mouth, he settled into position on the cockpit's toilet. I maneuvered past him and climbed into the Catapult's control chair. Slipping my neurohelmet back on, I brought Tyche back into a standing position, and swept the battlefield for targets of opportunity. "I don't have a seat belt!" "What?" I asked, instinctively turning toward Steve. Tyche immediately mirrored the movement, causing the cockpit to pivot to the left with a violent jolt. In my distracted state, I'd forgotten that I was connected to the BattleMech. "What if we crash?" Steve pleaded. "I don't want to die on the commode!" "You don't have a seatbelt. You won't die on the toilet. You'll fly off of it and die somewhere else in the cockpit." "Everything okay over there, Traveler?" Captain Maxwell's voice interrupted. Thank god... "Traveler to Eden - I've retrieved Dionysus." "Excellent work, Traveler," Captain Maxwell replied. "Is he intact?" "More or less," I replied, consciously ignoring the intermittent dry heaving and sporadic sobbing coming from behind my left shoulder. "I'm moving into support position off your right flank. Looks like there's still some juicy targets in range." "Plenty," Maxwell replied. "I could use some help with this Turhan." "You got it," I replied, drawing Tyche alongside the Captain's King Crab. Cycling through hostile sensor returns until the urban combat vehicle was outlined in red, I locked my missile suites onto the target, and opened fire. Tyche gave a noticeable lurch as her diagnostic interpretation computer adjusted her balance to compensate for the force of thirty missiles exiting their launchers simultaneously. The warheads sailed toward the Turhan, finding their marks on the armored craft at the same moment that twin rounds from Maxwell's Autocannon/20s cored into its reinforced hull. The Turhan exploded violently, scattering flaming wreckage in all directions. "I'm not sure how that guy's feeling right now," Maxwell quipped, "but I won't miss him." Before I could reply, a hail of machine gun rounds pummeled the ferroglass of my BattleMech's cockpit. Pivoting sharply to the left, I saw the J. Edgar hover tank headed directly toward me with Commander Walsh's Orion in hot pursuit. "See if you can help Foxglove put down that hovercraft," the Captain continued. "I'll deal with the Demon and Burke tanks so that we can wrap this little party up."