Blood on the Horizon (Reimagined)
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Chapter 23
MarkWarrior
Well-known member
Chapter 23
"This is the sign-on bonus?" Thomas whistled and leaned back against the tractor. "I might be willing to take you up on this, what's the rest of the contract look like?"
"It should be on the attached document," I replied, glancing at Thomas' fiance. "I'm not looking to make a sales pitch here, just an offer."
"Cessa," Thomas called her over. "You're the law expert here."
"Tom, I told you I just read the law for fun," she leaned over his shoulder to look over the contract. "I ain't bright 'nough for actual law school."
"Now, you know that ain't true," Thomas corrected her before looking back down at the contract. "But there's this clause here," he pointed out part of the contract. "And you can have them pay for this if we opt in."
"Sure, but you're not looking at this part," Francesca pointed to a part of the contract before turning to face me. "I think we're going to need some time to look this over before we can make a decision."
"Here," I handed them the card with the phone number to the hotel I was staying at. "I'm staying at the Breakwater Motel, and I'll be there for a while, I'm trying to pick up some Dropship and Jumpship crews."
"Damn," Thomas winced. "You might be here for a while."
"I put out an advert via Comstar," I shrugged. "I'm hoping to find some good folks who respond."
"Well, if you're looking for some infantry," Francesca pulled out a notebook from a skirt pocket and jotted down a number. "My cousin, Raymond Packer, and his buddies just got out of the Militia, they qualified for basic 'mech piloting, but they're pretty content with being ground-pounders. If you're looking for some good folks, you can't do much wrong with that bunch."
"Thanks," I nodded at the couple. "Give me a call when you make your decision. Now, I won't take up any more of your time, I know y'all likely have a lot more to get done around here."
"Thanks for the offer," Thomas shook my hand firmly and met my eye. "I'll try to get back to you by the end of the week."
"I'll be around," I smiled and turned to leave the ranch, intending to walk the rest of the way back to my vehicle before a truck pulled up, Thomas' father waving for me to climb on in.
"Well, I didn't expect you to just make the offer an' leave like that," James glanced over. "Now, I'm likely gonna try and convince them two to sign on. He's my second son, and his brother is already set to take over the family farm. And while Thomas pretends to enjoy the farm life, I know that he and his woman would like the adventure."
"I'm just making the offer," I shrugged. "What they decide is up to them."
"Well, I'll get you to your car and then be on your way," James winked as we pulled back up to the big house. "Just know that should you ever drop by not on business, I may have a meal waitin' here for you."
"Thank you," I closed the truck door behind me and climbed into the Jeep that I had bought for my stay here. "Have a good one!"
"So many people," I took a sip of my drink, leaning back against the back of the chair and looking out at the stars again.
"Really now?" Jack Sheppard took a seat across from me, tossing a signed sheet of paper onto the table. "Who'd you end up with?"
"Well, seeing as you've filled out the contract," I looked through it and noted that he had someone go over it and highlight where he needed to sign. "That'd make you the XO."
"Right," Jack waved over a waitress. "Thanks for the cash, by the way, it helped me settle a few debts. So, who have you spoken to?"
"Here's my list," I slid my notebook over. "If there's a checkmark by their name it means they were willing to at least hear me out. If the name's crossed out, then they're not likely to be employed."
"Peterson's good," Jack sipped at his beer. "So is Packer and his group, I worked with them when I trained with the militia before deploying against the Capellans. But who's this guy?" He tapped a name.
"That's Corporal Dunham," I shrugged. "He's apparently a local who worked with MIIO some. He's not really allowed to tell me all that much, but I at least managed to take a look at his resume."
"You gotta be careful around spooks," Sheppard sighed. "But I'm willing to work with him if you think he's on the up and up."
"I think we need someone who's at least somewhat tuned into that world," I responded. "I've got the beginnings of some ground forces pretty well figured out. It's the dropships and jumpship I'm having trouble crewing."
"I can't help you there," Sheppard smiled at the waitress as she topped off his beer. "You might have better luck on a world that gets more traffic."
"I've got some potential Jumpship crew coming into the system in a month or so," I flipped the notebook over to a different set of names and CSVs. "We'll see how they stack up once I get to meet them."
"Well, if they check out, you might want to see if we can stop by New Syrtis or somewhere like that. Might be able to get some crew there."
"One problem at a time," I thanked the staff as my food was brought out. "Besides, I'm still waiting on some of these people to get back to me."
"Packer and his bunch will sign on," Sheppard tapped the infantryman. "So will Paige. She went to get trained as a Marine over New Syrtis but then got grounded and told to work with the PBI. You give her the team and job she wants, and you'll be lucky if she ever retires."
"I did get the impression that she felt wasted in her old and current jobs," I agreed.
"We'll get everything figured out and squared away," Sheppard grinned. "So, once you get the signed contracts back from these guys, we're going to need somewhere to train."
"I've got that covered," I smirked.
"What do you mean you got it covered?" He asked.
"I have Indy-'Mechs as cargo, and Pierce has a surplus of two things. Food, and land. I worked out a deal with a couple of ranchers in exchange for the 'Mechs."
"So what'd you end up with?" Sheppard asked.
"About five to six hundred acres squared," I shrugged. "I've already got a couple of prefabs being set up there, it won't be much, but it'll be a home away from home should things go terrible for us."
"
"I'll say," Jack shook his head. "Get some berms and a range set up for 'mechs and infantry, we can expand to Vics later."
"That was the plan," I chewed thoughtfully. "I've got some ideas about security, but I could use some better advice."
"I'll take a look tomorrow," he tossed back the rest of his beer. "And I expect you'll have a message back from Peterson and Packer when you get back to the Breakwater. I'll meet you there first thing in the morning to take a look at this property you've got."
"Sounds good to me," I returned to my meal. "Well, dinner and bed. I think I've got a long few weeks ahead of me."
"This is the sign-on bonus?" Thomas whistled and leaned back against the tractor. "I might be willing to take you up on this, what's the rest of the contract look like?"
"It should be on the attached document," I replied, glancing at Thomas' fiance. "I'm not looking to make a sales pitch here, just an offer."
"Cessa," Thomas called her over. "You're the law expert here."
"Tom, I told you I just read the law for fun," she leaned over his shoulder to look over the contract. "I ain't bright 'nough for actual law school."
"Now, you know that ain't true," Thomas corrected her before looking back down at the contract. "But there's this clause here," he pointed out part of the contract. "And you can have them pay for this if we opt in."
"Sure, but you're not looking at this part," Francesca pointed to a part of the contract before turning to face me. "I think we're going to need some time to look this over before we can make a decision."
"Here," I handed them the card with the phone number to the hotel I was staying at. "I'm staying at the Breakwater Motel, and I'll be there for a while, I'm trying to pick up some Dropship and Jumpship crews."
"Damn," Thomas winced. "You might be here for a while."
"I put out an advert via Comstar," I shrugged. "I'm hoping to find some good folks who respond."
"Well, if you're looking for some infantry," Francesca pulled out a notebook from a skirt pocket and jotted down a number. "My cousin, Raymond Packer, and his buddies just got out of the Militia, they qualified for basic 'mech piloting, but they're pretty content with being ground-pounders. If you're looking for some good folks, you can't do much wrong with that bunch."
"Thanks," I nodded at the couple. "Give me a call when you make your decision. Now, I won't take up any more of your time, I know y'all likely have a lot more to get done around here."
"Thanks for the offer," Thomas shook my hand firmly and met my eye. "I'll try to get back to you by the end of the week."
"I'll be around," I smiled and turned to leave the ranch, intending to walk the rest of the way back to my vehicle before a truck pulled up, Thomas' father waving for me to climb on in.
"Well, I didn't expect you to just make the offer an' leave like that," James glanced over. "Now, I'm likely gonna try and convince them two to sign on. He's my second son, and his brother is already set to take over the family farm. And while Thomas pretends to enjoy the farm life, I know that he and his woman would like the adventure."
"I'm just making the offer," I shrugged. "What they decide is up to them."
"Well, I'll get you to your car and then be on your way," James winked as we pulled back up to the big house. "Just know that should you ever drop by not on business, I may have a meal waitin' here for you."
"Thank you," I closed the truck door behind me and climbed into the Jeep that I had bought for my stay here. "Have a good one!"
"So many people," I took a sip of my drink, leaning back against the back of the chair and looking out at the stars again.
"Really now?" Jack Sheppard took a seat across from me, tossing a signed sheet of paper onto the table. "Who'd you end up with?"
"Well, seeing as you've filled out the contract," I looked through it and noted that he had someone go over it and highlight where he needed to sign. "That'd make you the XO."
"Right," Jack waved over a waitress. "Thanks for the cash, by the way, it helped me settle a few debts. So, who have you spoken to?"
"Here's my list," I slid my notebook over. "If there's a checkmark by their name it means they were willing to at least hear me out. If the name's crossed out, then they're not likely to be employed."
"Peterson's good," Jack sipped at his beer. "So is Packer and his group, I worked with them when I trained with the militia before deploying against the Capellans. But who's this guy?" He tapped a name.
"That's Corporal Dunham," I shrugged. "He's apparently a local who worked with MIIO some. He's not really allowed to tell me all that much, but I at least managed to take a look at his resume."
"You gotta be careful around spooks," Sheppard sighed. "But I'm willing to work with him if you think he's on the up and up."
"I think we need someone who's at least somewhat tuned into that world," I responded. "I've got the beginnings of some ground forces pretty well figured out. It's the dropships and jumpship I'm having trouble crewing."
"I can't help you there," Sheppard smiled at the waitress as she topped off his beer. "You might have better luck on a world that gets more traffic."
"I've got some potential Jumpship crew coming into the system in a month or so," I flipped the notebook over to a different set of names and CSVs. "We'll see how they stack up once I get to meet them."
"Well, if they check out, you might want to see if we can stop by New Syrtis or somewhere like that. Might be able to get some crew there."
"One problem at a time," I thanked the staff as my food was brought out. "Besides, I'm still waiting on some of these people to get back to me."
"Packer and his bunch will sign on," Sheppard tapped the infantryman. "So will Paige. She went to get trained as a Marine over New Syrtis but then got grounded and told to work with the PBI. You give her the team and job she wants, and you'll be lucky if she ever retires."
"I did get the impression that she felt wasted in her old and current jobs," I agreed.
"We'll get everything figured out and squared away," Sheppard grinned. "So, once you get the signed contracts back from these guys, we're going to need somewhere to train."
"I've got that covered," I smirked.
"What do you mean you got it covered?" He asked.
"I have Indy-'Mechs as cargo, and Pierce has a surplus of two things. Food, and land. I worked out a deal with a couple of ranchers in exchange for the 'Mechs."
"So what'd you end up with?" Sheppard asked.
"About five to six hundred acres squared," I shrugged. "I've already got a couple of prefabs being set up there, it won't be much, but it'll be a home away from home should things go terrible for us."
"
"I'll say," Jack shook his head. "Get some berms and a range set up for 'mechs and infantry, we can expand to Vics later."
"That was the plan," I chewed thoughtfully. "I've got some ideas about security, but I could use some better advice."
"I'll take a look tomorrow," he tossed back the rest of his beer. "And I expect you'll have a message back from Peterson and Packer when you get back to the Breakwater. I'll meet you there first thing in the morning to take a look at this property you've got."
"Sounds good to me," I returned to my meal. "Well, dinner and bed. I think I've got a long few weeks ahead of me."
Last edited:
Chapter 24
MarkWarrior
Well-known member
Chapter 24
"Sorry that I had to conduct the interview over the phone," I greeted Felicia Paige with a firm handshake. "I'd have preferred to conduct most of it in person, but was in the middle of BFE."
"BFE?" the dark-skinned woman raised an eyebrow.
"Bum-fuck-Egypt," I shrugged. "It's an old turn of phrase from the 21st century."
"Well, I had some questions before I accepted the job offer," Paige reached into her duffle bag and pulled a file folder out. "I saw the pay, but I'm less interested in that than I am about my specific job details."
"You're a trained marine, right?" I asked.
"Certified in zero g and shipboard boarding tactics," she nodded. "You won't find another marine on this side of the Taurian/Fedsuns border," she then sighed. "At least you won't find one that's not working for a high tier unit anyway."
"I'm hiring some people with no prior experience," I stopped and looked her in the eye. "You want to be a marine, I want you to be one. So, I'm giving you a platoon to train how you want. And when the opportunity comes, I want them to be able to seize dropships or jumpships and fly them until we get crews for them."
"What kind of equipment are we getting?" Paige's mouth spread into a wide grin. "And how limited in training am I?"
"Well," I opened the door to a cafe and gestured for her to enter. "That depends entirely on whether you accept the contract or not. I've got some old SLDF kit, or we can go with something else if you prefer."
"What kind of SLDF kit?" Her grin turned bloodthirsty.
"That, you'll have to wait to see until I've got a signed contract," I sat down and ordered some breakfast, smiling at the waitress as a cup of coffee was set before me.
"Well, give me the contract and I'm in," she sat down across from me. "Look, Hull. I've wanted to be a marine since I was a little kid. The AFFS's focus and funding for the Marines has shifted to the ASF wings and ground troops. There isn't all that many of us anymore," she leaned forward. "You give me the opportunity and I'll ensure that you've got the best damned marines in the Inner Sphere."
"It might be a little while before we see any action," I pointed out as I sipped my coffee.
"Train hard now so you don't bleed later," Paige shrugged. "We will need access to your dropships once I've got them trained on the ground though. Zero g certification is nothing to scoff at."
"Well, Felicia," I stood up and shook her hand before handing her a contract. "Welcome to the Marksman."
"Well that's original," she rolled her eyes.
"Every man and woman a rifleman," I smirked. "The only mafia allowed to exist is the E-4 Mafia," I leaned forward. "Ms. Paige, I don't want this to just be another random group of marines. I want this to be like the USMC of ancient Terra."
"So, you want a cult then," she smiled appreciatively. "I've got my work cut out for me."
"Just make sure that they're adaptable to some change," I accepted my breakfast. "I've got some ideas on how to improve survivability. But they'll be a few years before fruition."
"So, who else do you have for this madhouse?" She sipped from her own cup.
"Well, for starters, he's got me and a few others," Sheppard limped into his seat. "He's putting together a fairly solid team. Some vets, mostly regulars, but it'll be a good start by all counts."
"Jack," Paige shook her head. "You're still halfway crippled. How're you supposed to do anything?"
"Hull," Sheppard ignored her for a minute. "I've got another mechwarrior to fill out a billet, but she's in the same boat I'm in."
"Needs a ride and some medical assistance?" I stroked my beard for a minute before finding a tangle and focusing on it as I got lost in thought. "Well, once I've got the minimum crew for the King Henry V I'm heading over to New Syrtis, hopefully they've got what I need to get you back on your feet."
"New Syrtis has the best medical facilities in the Capellan March," Paige glanced at Sheppard before focusing her attention back to me. "But it'll take time for him and his buddy to recover."
"I've already planned for us to start out hunting pirates in the Concordat first," I shrugged. "That should give us time to train and at least be Opfor against some of the Taurians until all of the wounded vets I'm bringing on are recovered."
"Just how many wounded are you taking on?" Paige asked.
"Here's the list," I opened up a folder and slid a copy of a spreadsheet over. "Ones marked with an asterisk are minor wounds that should be treatable by access to good medical care. Ones marked with a highlighter are those that are going to have to act in support roles until they're healed.
"And you're paying for this?" She tapped nervously on the sheet.
"Yes," I leaned back. "They're good soldiers dealt a bad hand in life. I've met with most of them, and all they need is a chance to get back onto their feet and they'll be all in."
"It's your money," Felicia sighed. "I just hope that it's not perceived badly."
"What do you mean?" I asked.
"Well, if you're only fixing them up to get them to work for you, it could be seen as you forcing them to work off a debt that they owe you."
"Oh," I paused, considering that closely in my mind. "I hadn't considered that."
"No, but whoever helped you draw up the paperwork understood your intent," Sheppard smirked. "I looked over my contract very thoroughly before I signed it."
"And?" Paige shifted her focus to the new XO.
"It's set up to cover the big medical expenses regardless of whether they stay on or not. Now, it does have a preferred service of at least one year if the medical needs are covered, but no requirement to pay it back."
"I must have missed that," I rubbed some tiredness away from my eyes. "Hopefully that doesn't come back to bite me in the ass."
"It shouldn't," Sheppard replied. "Most folks will want to pay you back for it even if they don't owe you for it. It's the obligation of it. The ones that don't," he shrugged. "They weren't the kind of people who we'd have wanted in the unit anyway."
"So, I'm still green as grass," I looked at the two of them. "Before we get to training, do you have any advice for me so I don't look like an absolute fool out there?"
"I hope you've got time," Paige and Sheppard exchanged a glance before signaling for more coffee. "Because we've got a lot to unpack if you really want the tips and tricks that we learned."
"Sorry that I had to conduct the interview over the phone," I greeted Felicia Paige with a firm handshake. "I'd have preferred to conduct most of it in person, but was in the middle of BFE."
"BFE?" the dark-skinned woman raised an eyebrow.
"Bum-fuck-Egypt," I shrugged. "It's an old turn of phrase from the 21st century."
"Well, I had some questions before I accepted the job offer," Paige reached into her duffle bag and pulled a file folder out. "I saw the pay, but I'm less interested in that than I am about my specific job details."
"You're a trained marine, right?" I asked.
"Certified in zero g and shipboard boarding tactics," she nodded. "You won't find another marine on this side of the Taurian/Fedsuns border," she then sighed. "At least you won't find one that's not working for a high tier unit anyway."
"I'm hiring some people with no prior experience," I stopped and looked her in the eye. "You want to be a marine, I want you to be one. So, I'm giving you a platoon to train how you want. And when the opportunity comes, I want them to be able to seize dropships or jumpships and fly them until we get crews for them."
"What kind of equipment are we getting?" Paige's mouth spread into a wide grin. "And how limited in training am I?"
"Well," I opened the door to a cafe and gestured for her to enter. "That depends entirely on whether you accept the contract or not. I've got some old SLDF kit, or we can go with something else if you prefer."
"What kind of SLDF kit?" Her grin turned bloodthirsty.
"That, you'll have to wait to see until I've got a signed contract," I sat down and ordered some breakfast, smiling at the waitress as a cup of coffee was set before me.
"Well, give me the contract and I'm in," she sat down across from me. "Look, Hull. I've wanted to be a marine since I was a little kid. The AFFS's focus and funding for the Marines has shifted to the ASF wings and ground troops. There isn't all that many of us anymore," she leaned forward. "You give me the opportunity and I'll ensure that you've got the best damned marines in the Inner Sphere."
"It might be a little while before we see any action," I pointed out as I sipped my coffee.
"Train hard now so you don't bleed later," Paige shrugged. "We will need access to your dropships once I've got them trained on the ground though. Zero g certification is nothing to scoff at."
"Well, Felicia," I stood up and shook her hand before handing her a contract. "Welcome to the Marksman."
"Well that's original," she rolled her eyes.
"Every man and woman a rifleman," I smirked. "The only mafia allowed to exist is the E-4 Mafia," I leaned forward. "Ms. Paige, I don't want this to just be another random group of marines. I want this to be like the USMC of ancient Terra."
"So, you want a cult then," she smiled appreciatively. "I've got my work cut out for me."
"Just make sure that they're adaptable to some change," I accepted my breakfast. "I've got some ideas on how to improve survivability. But they'll be a few years before fruition."
"So, who else do you have for this madhouse?" She sipped from her own cup.
"Well, for starters, he's got me and a few others," Sheppard limped into his seat. "He's putting together a fairly solid team. Some vets, mostly regulars, but it'll be a good start by all counts."
"Jack," Paige shook her head. "You're still halfway crippled. How're you supposed to do anything?"
"Hull," Sheppard ignored her for a minute. "I've got another mechwarrior to fill out a billet, but she's in the same boat I'm in."
"Needs a ride and some medical assistance?" I stroked my beard for a minute before finding a tangle and focusing on it as I got lost in thought. "Well, once I've got the minimum crew for the King Henry V I'm heading over to New Syrtis, hopefully they've got what I need to get you back on your feet."
"New Syrtis has the best medical facilities in the Capellan March," Paige glanced at Sheppard before focusing her attention back to me. "But it'll take time for him and his buddy to recover."
"I've already planned for us to start out hunting pirates in the Concordat first," I shrugged. "That should give us time to train and at least be Opfor against some of the Taurians until all of the wounded vets I'm bringing on are recovered."
"Just how many wounded are you taking on?" Paige asked.
"Here's the list," I opened up a folder and slid a copy of a spreadsheet over. "Ones marked with an asterisk are minor wounds that should be treatable by access to good medical care. Ones marked with a highlighter are those that are going to have to act in support roles until they're healed.
"And you're paying for this?" She tapped nervously on the sheet.
"Yes," I leaned back. "They're good soldiers dealt a bad hand in life. I've met with most of them, and all they need is a chance to get back onto their feet and they'll be all in."
"It's your money," Felicia sighed. "I just hope that it's not perceived badly."
"What do you mean?" I asked.
"Well, if you're only fixing them up to get them to work for you, it could be seen as you forcing them to work off a debt that they owe you."
"Oh," I paused, considering that closely in my mind. "I hadn't considered that."
"No, but whoever helped you draw up the paperwork understood your intent," Sheppard smirked. "I looked over my contract very thoroughly before I signed it."
"And?" Paige shifted her focus to the new XO.
"It's set up to cover the big medical expenses regardless of whether they stay on or not. Now, it does have a preferred service of at least one year if the medical needs are covered, but no requirement to pay it back."
"I must have missed that," I rubbed some tiredness away from my eyes. "Hopefully that doesn't come back to bite me in the ass."
"It shouldn't," Sheppard replied. "Most folks will want to pay you back for it even if they don't owe you for it. It's the obligation of it. The ones that don't," he shrugged. "They weren't the kind of people who we'd have wanted in the unit anyway."
"So, I'm still green as grass," I looked at the two of them. "Before we get to training, do you have any advice for me so I don't look like an absolute fool out there?"
"I hope you've got time," Paige and Sheppard exchanged a glance before signaling for more coffee. "Because we've got a lot to unpack if you really want the tips and tricks that we learned."
Chapter 25
MarkWarrior
Well-known member
Chapter 25
"So," a short brunette looked around at the bridge of the King Henry V. "I'm impressed that she's as well maintained as she is, and a bit in awe that you managed to get a Jumpship anywhere by yourself. But I don't recommend you do that again. There's some critical maintenance that you overlooked, and if it's not seen to, we won't be going anywhere in this ship. Luckily, I think I can make this work."
"So you accept?" I asked carefully, not wanting to stir up another rant like I had the first time she saw some of the systems.
"Yeah," she grinned. "I've wanted to be captain of a Jumpship for a long time. And as long as you're willing to hear me out when it comes to crew, I think we can work something out."
"Welcome aboard then, Ms. Frye," I shook her hand. "Do you have any recommendations on where to start looking for some crew?"
"I've got a few friends serving on a couple different ships," she paced as she thought out loud. "And there were a few people interested in your job posting that were on the Dropship inbound with me," she stopped pacing.
"I'll need a minimum of six crewmembers to get us from location to location," She met my eyes. "I'd like to get more than that so we can man the weapons as well, but the minimum will have to be six or so."
"Are you willing to take rookies?" I asked. " 'Cuz I can probably find you some people who don't know anything but who are plenty willing to learn."
"You find me three veteran spacers, and fill the rest with green crew, and I can work with that," Kaylee Frye grinned. "It'll take some time, but we'll have a good crew whipped up."
"Do you need to look over the contract again?" I asked. "Because I've got a copy of it here."
"Nah," She shook her head. "You seem like good people. So I'll trust you to have my back if I've got yours. 'Sides, you seem like you've had a rough go of it recently. I'm willing to give you a chance. So, what's the plan, Captain?"
"Well," I stroked my beard in thought. "I'm still hiring some folks, then we're gonna head over to New Syrtis for some of their medical care. So if you've got any friends who want to sign on, they could meet us there. After that," I shrugged. "It's whatever contract looks the most appealing."
"Aye aye, skipper," Kaylee smirked and gave a half salute. "I'll get to work getting her back into shape, don't worry about her anymore, she's my baby now."
–
–
"Spacers," Sheppard chuckled as he listened to my story about hiring the Jumpship crew. "They're always an odd bunch, but if you get the right ones, they'll pull you out of fires you didn't know you were jumping into."
"Well, I'm just waiting on Peterson and his Fiance to submit their revised contract so that I can sign it and we'll be on our way to New Syrtis," I tapped the table. "Unless you think we should do something else?"
"Aye," Sheppard leaned forward. "We've got to get our base rate/rank structure sorted out and start training together. We've got some good folks here, but until we put everything together we'll just be a bunch of disparate groups lumped in together. We've got to get at least a minimum of coordination between our 'mechs and infantry before we take any contracts."
He sighed. "I'd like to get some ASF support, but I guarantee that the pilots in this area are spoken for. So we'll have to pick them up as we go."
"So, training," I said after I was sure he was finished. "We already had the land that I bought set up for those purposes. And most of the people we've hired have already been set up with bunks there."
"Then I think it's time to see if we can get you roughed up a bit," Sheppard smirked. "Can't trust someone to lead unless you're sure they've been taught the right way."
"Fair enough," I finished my coffee. "I guess we should get to it then. Sweat now so we don't bleed later and all that."
November 15, 3001
"Hull," Peterson said between bites of food. "I've been meaning to ask. What's up with your eye?"
"My left one?" I asked.
"Yeah, the pupil looks all weird and shit."
"Well, had an accident when I was 15, and the family couldn't really afford the good healthcare the League had to offer back then," I shrugged. "Gotta bunch of issues with it, I figure I can get it looked at and maybe fixed if we stop by Canopus. But until then, I just have to work around it."
"Fully blind?" Sheppard asked.
"Nah," I shook my head. "Just really messed up. I had a prescription for contact lenses given I don't have a natural one anymore, but I'm pretty sure it's long expired by now."
The group chuckled at my dark humor for a bit.
"So, does the story match up to the damage?" Erika Lamb gestured with her fork, her mouth half-full of the pulled pork she had been eating.
"Not really," I sighed. "Just your standard workplace accident where safety goggles or glasses would have prevented an injury."
"Did you not have any?" Peterson asked.
"No, I had glasses. But it was raining and getting towards dusk so I had them on the top of my head instead of in front of my eyes."
"Damn," Sheppard muttered. "Well, it explains why you're always triple checking those corners on the left. But it doesn't explain why you don't have issues with the 'Hammer. You should have issues with some of the info panels."
"So, y'all know how you've been enjoying the Star League Era Neurohelmets that I provided with the 'mechs?" I asked.
"Yeah," Peterson downed a glass of sweet tea. "You're letting us keep them after we leave."
"Well, turns out that they're not just lighter, they're also better at interpreting the information between the 'mech and your brain," I began my explanation. "So, when said neurohelmet interfaces with my brain, it actually uses the sensors to create the visual picture that I need to be able to acquire targets and fire properly."
"How'd you figure that out?" Peterson asked.
"Lots of time in the simulators," I shuddered. "I've got a few of the simulators on the Messenger if you'd like to take a run in them with me."
"You know what," the other officers looked at me. "Sure, we can run some simulations. Just letting you know in advance though, I haven't been able to turn the settings down on them at all. So the difficulty might be a bit harder than you think at first."
"Yeah, sure," Sheppard scoffed as he shared a glance with Erika, Peterson and the rest. "We'll see about that for ourselves."
"It's your choice," I smirked. "I warned you, after all."
"So," a short brunette looked around at the bridge of the King Henry V. "I'm impressed that she's as well maintained as she is, and a bit in awe that you managed to get a Jumpship anywhere by yourself. But I don't recommend you do that again. There's some critical maintenance that you overlooked, and if it's not seen to, we won't be going anywhere in this ship. Luckily, I think I can make this work."
"So you accept?" I asked carefully, not wanting to stir up another rant like I had the first time she saw some of the systems.
"Yeah," she grinned. "I've wanted to be captain of a Jumpship for a long time. And as long as you're willing to hear me out when it comes to crew, I think we can work something out."
"Welcome aboard then, Ms. Frye," I shook her hand. "Do you have any recommendations on where to start looking for some crew?"
"I've got a few friends serving on a couple different ships," she paced as she thought out loud. "And there were a few people interested in your job posting that were on the Dropship inbound with me," she stopped pacing.
"I'll need a minimum of six crewmembers to get us from location to location," She met my eyes. "I'd like to get more than that so we can man the weapons as well, but the minimum will have to be six or so."
"Are you willing to take rookies?" I asked. " 'Cuz I can probably find you some people who don't know anything but who are plenty willing to learn."
"You find me three veteran spacers, and fill the rest with green crew, and I can work with that," Kaylee Frye grinned. "It'll take some time, but we'll have a good crew whipped up."
"Do you need to look over the contract again?" I asked. "Because I've got a copy of it here."
"Nah," She shook her head. "You seem like good people. So I'll trust you to have my back if I've got yours. 'Sides, you seem like you've had a rough go of it recently. I'm willing to give you a chance. So, what's the plan, Captain?"
"Well," I stroked my beard in thought. "I'm still hiring some folks, then we're gonna head over to New Syrtis for some of their medical care. So if you've got any friends who want to sign on, they could meet us there. After that," I shrugged. "It's whatever contract looks the most appealing."
"Aye aye, skipper," Kaylee smirked and gave a half salute. "I'll get to work getting her back into shape, don't worry about her anymore, she's my baby now."
–
–
"Spacers," Sheppard chuckled as he listened to my story about hiring the Jumpship crew. "They're always an odd bunch, but if you get the right ones, they'll pull you out of fires you didn't know you were jumping into."
"Well, I'm just waiting on Peterson and his Fiance to submit their revised contract so that I can sign it and we'll be on our way to New Syrtis," I tapped the table. "Unless you think we should do something else?"
"Aye," Sheppard leaned forward. "We've got to get our base rate/rank structure sorted out and start training together. We've got some good folks here, but until we put everything together we'll just be a bunch of disparate groups lumped in together. We've got to get at least a minimum of coordination between our 'mechs and infantry before we take any contracts."
He sighed. "I'd like to get some ASF support, but I guarantee that the pilots in this area are spoken for. So we'll have to pick them up as we go."
"So, training," I said after I was sure he was finished. "We already had the land that I bought set up for those purposes. And most of the people we've hired have already been set up with bunks there."
"Then I think it's time to see if we can get you roughed up a bit," Sheppard smirked. "Can't trust someone to lead unless you're sure they've been taught the right way."
"Fair enough," I finished my coffee. "I guess we should get to it then. Sweat now so we don't bleed later and all that."
November 15, 3001
"Hull," Peterson said between bites of food. "I've been meaning to ask. What's up with your eye?"
"My left one?" I asked.
"Yeah, the pupil looks all weird and shit."
"Well, had an accident when I was 15, and the family couldn't really afford the good healthcare the League had to offer back then," I shrugged. "Gotta bunch of issues with it, I figure I can get it looked at and maybe fixed if we stop by Canopus. But until then, I just have to work around it."
"Fully blind?" Sheppard asked.
"Nah," I shook my head. "Just really messed up. I had a prescription for contact lenses given I don't have a natural one anymore, but I'm pretty sure it's long expired by now."
The group chuckled at my dark humor for a bit.
"So, does the story match up to the damage?" Erika Lamb gestured with her fork, her mouth half-full of the pulled pork she had been eating.
"Not really," I sighed. "Just your standard workplace accident where safety goggles or glasses would have prevented an injury."
"Did you not have any?" Peterson asked.
"No, I had glasses. But it was raining and getting towards dusk so I had them on the top of my head instead of in front of my eyes."
"Damn," Sheppard muttered. "Well, it explains why you're always triple checking those corners on the left. But it doesn't explain why you don't have issues with the 'Hammer. You should have issues with some of the info panels."
"So, y'all know how you've been enjoying the Star League Era Neurohelmets that I provided with the 'mechs?" I asked.
"Yeah," Peterson downed a glass of sweet tea. "You're letting us keep them after we leave."
"Well, turns out that they're not just lighter, they're also better at interpreting the information between the 'mech and your brain," I began my explanation. "So, when said neurohelmet interfaces with my brain, it actually uses the sensors to create the visual picture that I need to be able to acquire targets and fire properly."
"How'd you figure that out?" Peterson asked.
"Lots of time in the simulators," I shuddered. "I've got a few of the simulators on the Messenger if you'd like to take a run in them with me."
"You know what," the other officers looked at me. "Sure, we can run some simulations. Just letting you know in advance though, I haven't been able to turn the settings down on them at all. So the difficulty might be a bit harder than you think at first."
"Yeah, sure," Sheppard scoffed as he shared a glance with Erika, Peterson and the rest. "We'll see about that for ourselves."
"It's your choice," I smirked. "I warned you, after all."
ROTFLMAO thinking about the poor bastards on their first sim run!
Chapter 26
MarkWarrior
Well-known member
Chapter 26
“This is a nice simulator,” Sheppard muttered to himself as he climbed into the pod. “I wonder why Hull was so worried about us?”
Hooking up his cooling vest to the lines in the pod, he hit the power-up cycle and grinned as everything flared to life.
“Mongoose is ready,” He flipped the master arm switch on and glanced down at his sensors. “This is Rifle One, you two ready?” He asked Erika and Mckay.
“This is Rifle Two, Ready op,” Erika responded, her Griffin powered up and ready.
“This is Rifle Three, Ready op,” Mckay’s Crab looked around at the hanger the sims had placed them in. “Bit of an odd start for a sim, isn’t it?”
“Aye,” Sheppard replied. “Now we should probably prove our new CO wrong about the difficulty of his simulators.”
“Giving hanger bays the signal to open, they’re responding to the handshake,” Erika reported as the massive hanger bays slid open to reveal a barren wasteland. Rolling hills with dead foilage and the corpses of ‘mechs and dropships.
“Damn,” Sheppard swore. “This place is a mess, I wonder what planet the simulator pulled this from.”
“Could be any number of worlds,” Mckay replied. “Especially if it’s a late Star League Era Simulator. Not like there was a lack of warfare in the Star League.”
“Incoming!” Erika called out as the sky seemed to swarm with missiles.
“Dodge what you can,” Sheppard ordered as a few missiles pockmarked his light ‘mech’s armor. “We’ll then try to take out the missile carriers.”
“‘Mech powerup detected,” Betty screamed in his ear as a PPC took out Erika with a single shot to the cockpit.
“What the hell was that?!” Sheppard roared as he took a step and a small explosion injured an ankle actuator. “Shit, those weren’t regular LRMs.”
As Sheppard looked at the sensor scans of the ground around him, a Highlander painted in the drab camo of the SLDF casually walked around a pile of wreckage and began stripping armor off of his ‘mech before a gauss slug punctured his reactor and the screen went black.
“What just happened?” Erika helped Sheppard climb out of the sim pod.
“I have no idea,” he shook his head. “But we’re about to find out.”
The two of them helped the last member of their trio out of her pod before going to the prefabricated mess hall.
“Here,” Hull greeted them, setting a tray of food in front of each of them. “Figured you’d be hungry after that.”
“What sort of simulation is that?” Mckay finally spoke. “I’ve never even encountered an assault ‘mech on the field before, and now I had to try and fight three of them?”
“And what was up with those LRMs?” Sheppard asked. “I’m pretty sure that we haven’t had specialty ammunition for that in decades if not a century.”
“Gauss rifles? ERPPCS?” Erika asked.
“I’ll answer your questions in order,” Hull chuckled as he grabbed his own food and sat across from them.
“From what I can tell, these simulators were intended for an elite unit of some kind,” He sipped at his drink. “Not sure which unit, but they were programmed to only generate simulations and scenarios in which the survival odds were next to zero.”
“I’ve had simulations that had me in orbit after a dropship blew up around me, scenarios where I was in a jungle being hunted by a bunch of Atlas, all sorts of crazy stuff.”
“If it makes you feel better, I haven’t managed to beat a sim yet,” Hull smirked. “But I did manage to last a bit longer than y’all in my last one.”
“Alright then,” Sheppard nodded at the gauntlet that had just been thrown down. “You’re on.”
“Look, I just want to prove to you guys that I have what it takes even if I’m a touch green,” Hull explained. “I’m not looking to stir up trouble with y’all.”
“Nope,” Sheppard grinned. “The Challenge has been laid down, now you’ve got to prove it.”
“Just checking before he starts it up,” Mckay ate a bowl of ice cream as she watched the tri-vid stream of the sims. “But he is in a stock ‘Hammer, right?”
“Yeah, I confirmed that the pod was set to standard Warhammer,” Sheppard nodded. “Now we see if he’s as good as he thinks he is.”
—
—
“What’re you gonna throw at me today?” I whispered as Betty began her sequence.
As the world formed around me, a jungle began to appear, trees nearly as thick as my ‘mech, and boughs that hung just high enough for me to be underneath the canopy
I stepped on the foot pedals and slowly began moving forward, my sensors powered down to passive so I didn’t give my position away for free.
Then an Urbanmech stepped out from the trees at nearly point blank range, its AC/20 ripping apart a nearby tree and sending it crashing to the ground as I shifted a bit further back and began stripping the armor off of the light ‘mech.
“It’s never just an Urbie,” I muttered as I shifted to active sensors and barely evaded a fist from a Battlemaster.
“Here goes nothing,” I overrode a safety on one of my PPCs and killed the Urbie with a precise shot at point-blank range before the weapon registered as unavailable for use. Then I turned to engage the assault ‘mech that had gotten up close.
“Where’s your other buddies?” I asked as the two of us exchanged fire. “I know they’re around here somewhere.”
“‘Enemy detected” Betty informed me as a new sensor trace appeared.
“And there’s the big boy,” I narrowly dodged the twin ‘mech killers that were fired at me. “Whelp, I can only take one of you down with me.”
Focusing on the Battlemaster, I narrowly avoided overheating my ‘mech as I ripped the 85-tonner’s legs out from underneath it and stomped on the cockpit before turning to face the big foe of the day.
“Whelp, I’m in armor state red in most places, and you’re lethal to me at this range,” I limped my ‘Hammer forward and began burning away at one of the scariest and most lethal ‘mechs ever invented.
Twin blue lasers shattered what was left of my torso armor before carving into my ammunition bays and throwing my ‘mech to the ground with the secondary explosions, a burst of autocannon shells sending the simulator to black as I struggled to stand up in my ‘hammer.”
“Now it’s time to face the music,” I opened the hatch of the pod and looked at the group I had put together already. “Well?”
“You need some work,” Sheppard finally said after a moment of silence. “But you’re probably better than me in a ‘mech and you’ve got a decent head on your shoulders. So, let’s try running this death simulation again. This time with a full team. What’d you say?”
“I’m in,” I grinned. “It’ll be nice to not have to kill something on my own.”
“This is a nice simulator,” Sheppard muttered to himself as he climbed into the pod. “I wonder why Hull was so worried about us?”
Hooking up his cooling vest to the lines in the pod, he hit the power-up cycle and grinned as everything flared to life.
“Mongoose is ready,” He flipped the master arm switch on and glanced down at his sensors. “This is Rifle One, you two ready?” He asked Erika and Mckay.
“This is Rifle Two, Ready op,” Erika responded, her Griffin powered up and ready.
“This is Rifle Three, Ready op,” Mckay’s Crab looked around at the hanger the sims had placed them in. “Bit of an odd start for a sim, isn’t it?”
“Aye,” Sheppard replied. “Now we should probably prove our new CO wrong about the difficulty of his simulators.”
“Giving hanger bays the signal to open, they’re responding to the handshake,” Erika reported as the massive hanger bays slid open to reveal a barren wasteland. Rolling hills with dead foilage and the corpses of ‘mechs and dropships.
“Damn,” Sheppard swore. “This place is a mess, I wonder what planet the simulator pulled this from.”
“Could be any number of worlds,” Mckay replied. “Especially if it’s a late Star League Era Simulator. Not like there was a lack of warfare in the Star League.”
“Incoming!” Erika called out as the sky seemed to swarm with missiles.
“Dodge what you can,” Sheppard ordered as a few missiles pockmarked his light ‘mech’s armor. “We’ll then try to take out the missile carriers.”
“‘Mech powerup detected,” Betty screamed in his ear as a PPC took out Erika with a single shot to the cockpit.
“What the hell was that?!” Sheppard roared as he took a step and a small explosion injured an ankle actuator. “Shit, those weren’t regular LRMs.”
As Sheppard looked at the sensor scans of the ground around him, a Highlander painted in the drab camo of the SLDF casually walked around a pile of wreckage and began stripping armor off of his ‘mech before a gauss slug punctured his reactor and the screen went black.
“What just happened?” Erika helped Sheppard climb out of the sim pod.
“I have no idea,” he shook his head. “But we’re about to find out.”
The two of them helped the last member of their trio out of her pod before going to the prefabricated mess hall.
“Here,” Hull greeted them, setting a tray of food in front of each of them. “Figured you’d be hungry after that.”
“What sort of simulation is that?” Mckay finally spoke. “I’ve never even encountered an assault ‘mech on the field before, and now I had to try and fight three of them?”
“And what was up with those LRMs?” Sheppard asked. “I’m pretty sure that we haven’t had specialty ammunition for that in decades if not a century.”
“Gauss rifles? ERPPCS?” Erika asked.
“I’ll answer your questions in order,” Hull chuckled as he grabbed his own food and sat across from them.
“From what I can tell, these simulators were intended for an elite unit of some kind,” He sipped at his drink. “Not sure which unit, but they were programmed to only generate simulations and scenarios in which the survival odds were next to zero.”
“I’ve had simulations that had me in orbit after a dropship blew up around me, scenarios where I was in a jungle being hunted by a bunch of Atlas, all sorts of crazy stuff.”
“If it makes you feel better, I haven’t managed to beat a sim yet,” Hull smirked. “But I did manage to last a bit longer than y’all in my last one.”
“Alright then,” Sheppard nodded at the gauntlet that had just been thrown down. “You’re on.”
“Look, I just want to prove to you guys that I have what it takes even if I’m a touch green,” Hull explained. “I’m not looking to stir up trouble with y’all.”
“Nope,” Sheppard grinned. “The Challenge has been laid down, now you’ve got to prove it.”
“Just checking before he starts it up,” Mckay ate a bowl of ice cream as she watched the tri-vid stream of the sims. “But he is in a stock ‘Hammer, right?”
“Yeah, I confirmed that the pod was set to standard Warhammer,” Sheppard nodded. “Now we see if he’s as good as he thinks he is.”
—
—
“What’re you gonna throw at me today?” I whispered as Betty began her sequence.
As the world formed around me, a jungle began to appear, trees nearly as thick as my ‘mech, and boughs that hung just high enough for me to be underneath the canopy
I stepped on the foot pedals and slowly began moving forward, my sensors powered down to passive so I didn’t give my position away for free.
Then an Urbanmech stepped out from the trees at nearly point blank range, its AC/20 ripping apart a nearby tree and sending it crashing to the ground as I shifted a bit further back and began stripping the armor off of the light ‘mech.
“It’s never just an Urbie,” I muttered as I shifted to active sensors and barely evaded a fist from a Battlemaster.
“Here goes nothing,” I overrode a safety on one of my PPCs and killed the Urbie with a precise shot at point-blank range before the weapon registered as unavailable for use. Then I turned to engage the assault ‘mech that had gotten up close.
“Where’s your other buddies?” I asked as the two of us exchanged fire. “I know they’re around here somewhere.”
“‘Enemy detected” Betty informed me as a new sensor trace appeared.
“And there’s the big boy,” I narrowly dodged the twin ‘mech killers that were fired at me. “Whelp, I can only take one of you down with me.”
Focusing on the Battlemaster, I narrowly avoided overheating my ‘mech as I ripped the 85-tonner’s legs out from underneath it and stomped on the cockpit before turning to face the big foe of the day.
“Whelp, I’m in armor state red in most places, and you’re lethal to me at this range,” I limped my ‘Hammer forward and began burning away at one of the scariest and most lethal ‘mechs ever invented.
Twin blue lasers shattered what was left of my torso armor before carving into my ammunition bays and throwing my ‘mech to the ground with the secondary explosions, a burst of autocannon shells sending the simulator to black as I struggled to stand up in my ‘hammer.”
“Now it’s time to face the music,” I opened the hatch of the pod and looked at the group I had put together already. “Well?”
“You need some work,” Sheppard finally said after a moment of silence. “But you’re probably better than me in a ‘mech and you’ve got a decent head on your shoulders. So, let’s try running this death simulation again. This time with a full team. What’d you say?”
“I’m in,” I grinned. “It’ll be nice to not have to kill something on my own.”
Chapter 27
MarkWarrior
Well-known member
Chapter 27
Date: December 2, 3001
Location: Pierce, Capellan March, Federated Suns
"I don't want to be in another simulator for at least a week," Sheppard groaned. "You're done with the hiring for the Dropships, right?"
"Kaylee had enough people that passed the background check to crew the Jumpship," I pulled apart a paper clip that I had, twisting it around into different shapes. "We've got just enough to crew one of the dropships, I figure we'll spend another month here, let y'all enjoy Christmas with your friends and family before we start heading for New Syrtis to pick up more crew and get the medical problems squared away."
"Thanks," Peterson sat down next to Sheppard. "We'll need the rest of the time to work out some kinks with our movements and coordination between us and the 'mechs. I wish the militia had been willing to part with some of the APCs. But until we get something to bridge the gap between the 'mechs and our infantry we're going to have some problems."
"We'll see what we can pick up on the open market when we get the chance," I jotted down some quick notes. "At this point, we've got quite the shopping list, and I doubt we'll be able to find everything on it."
"One can dream though," Peterson grinned. "Sides, with how you've been throwing money around I'm surprised you haven't been propositioned yet, plenty of folks would love to try and get some of that money away from you."
"Have been," I sighed. "I ignored them, I don't have time for that sort of thing right now anyway," I felt my stomach sink for a moment before I pushed the surge of emotion away for the moment. I could break down later, I had a job to do right now.
"Anyway, we've got a lot of work this month if we want to be ready for departure," Sheppard changed the subject to ease the tension.
"More like three weeks," I shrugged. "I'm giving y'all the week of Christmas off, seeing as we'll be in transit for any New Years celebrations."
"What's the plan for base security while we're gone?" Peterson asked. "Squatters might try to set up shop after we're gone if we're not careful."
"I'm leasing the land out to farmers," I explained. "And giving them the authorization to shoot anyone who doesn't provide proper identification."
"So we're not leaving anything here then?"
"Nope," I smirked. "Only thing we're leaving here on the base is a handful of indy-mechs that I'm letting the farmers use. And if anyone tries to steal them then they're going to have to deal with a bunch of pissed off farmers."
"Ouch," Sheppard shuddered. "I'd hate to be the son of a bitch that tried that."
"Exactly," I replied. "Now, let's discuss training plans, Paige's got her group training up on the dropships and Jumpship for now, but we've got to get our own stuff together before we take on any contracts."
"I guess I'm getting a white Christmas," I looked out at the snow falling down around the prefabricated buildings of the base. "My kids would've loved to see this."
I swirled my cup of hot chocolate around as I stepped out into the brisk air and breathed deeply, enjoying the fresh air and the nice crisp feeling of freshly fallen snow.
Grabbing the guitar case that was leaning up against the wall, I slung the soft shell onto my back before heading to the nearby truck I had bought.
Tossing the guitar into the back seat, I climbed in and cranked the truck up, the combustion engine roaring to life as I shifted into drive and headed for the nearby copse of trees that I had left standing when we cleared the majority of the land.
In the middle of the trees and boughs laden with snow, was a small stone circle, with a small roofed cutout with dried logs underneath it.
Bringing out a large stump, I stacked a log onto it, and grabbed the nearby ax that we had stationed there. Taking a few practice swings, I nodded to myself and drive the ax down, splitting the log into two pieces before grabbing the halves and splitting those as well, stacking the dried lumber in the middle of the stone circle as I continued to chop wood.
Sweat dripped down my body as I set the ax down and removed my jacket, rolling up my sleeves on the long sleeved shirt I had on and stacking the extra wood to the side.
Then, grabbing some kindling, I stacked the wood up in the way I had been taught many years ago. I started with the kindling, some dried leaves and other small easy to catch items that immediately caught flame, the orange glow gradually moving up the larger pieces as the fuel began to be consumed.
Warmth entered the clearing, melting any snow that surrounded the fire pit and filling up the twilight of the evening.
Heading back to the truck, I grabbed a small bag and the guitar case before seating myself at the fire. After sitting down, I opened the bag and took out a small metal skewer and a bag of marshmallows, a stack of graham crackers, and a chocolate bar.
"It's not Hershey's," I grinned at the sight of the ingredients. "But it's as close as I'm gonna get."
Putting two marshmallows on the end of the metal stick, I set it at the perfect distance for melting and cooking while I prepared the rest of the S'mores sections, the graham crackers sitting on the stone surrounding the fire to toast up a bit while I set the chocolate on top.
Seeing a light golden brown on the marshmallows, I pulled them from the fire and set them on the chocolate, folding the other half of the cracker and crushing the fluffy goodness before removing the metal rod.
And then I bit into the treat, the flavors bringing me back to time spent with my family around a similar campfire, of a time when I wrestled and played with my kids and taught my siblings how to shoot properly.
But all too soon, the food was gone, and the memories faded away once again, leaving me alone in a small forest clearing with a guitar and a fire.
Picking up the instrument, I hooked up a small electric tuner to it, checking each string before strumming and picking with the four chords I knew to play.
I closed my eyes and began strumming, enjoying the soft melody of a song that I used to play, and as I did so, it felt like a warm blanket or hug descended over me, a warmth I hadn't felt since I had arrived here, and a peace about the decisions I had made settled in.
"Y'know, it's not good for anyone to spend Christmas alone," Sheppard stepped into the clearing, followed by the rest of the unit we had put together.
"I hope you brought more skewers," I replied. "I only have enough for one person."
"We got you covered boss," Peterson brought out a metal grate that he set on top of the fire, and then opening a cooler, he brought out strips of beef and other meats. "I hope you're hungry, because we're eating good tonight!"
Author's Note: Trying out a new Date/Time layout, let me know if you like it better than the other way.
Date: December 2, 3001
Location: Pierce, Capellan March, Federated Suns
"I don't want to be in another simulator for at least a week," Sheppard groaned. "You're done with the hiring for the Dropships, right?"
"Kaylee had enough people that passed the background check to crew the Jumpship," I pulled apart a paper clip that I had, twisting it around into different shapes. "We've got just enough to crew one of the dropships, I figure we'll spend another month here, let y'all enjoy Christmas with your friends and family before we start heading for New Syrtis to pick up more crew and get the medical problems squared away."
"Thanks," Peterson sat down next to Sheppard. "We'll need the rest of the time to work out some kinks with our movements and coordination between us and the 'mechs. I wish the militia had been willing to part with some of the APCs. But until we get something to bridge the gap between the 'mechs and our infantry we're going to have some problems."
"We'll see what we can pick up on the open market when we get the chance," I jotted down some quick notes. "At this point, we've got quite the shopping list, and I doubt we'll be able to find everything on it."
"One can dream though," Peterson grinned. "Sides, with how you've been throwing money around I'm surprised you haven't been propositioned yet, plenty of folks would love to try and get some of that money away from you."
"Have been," I sighed. "I ignored them, I don't have time for that sort of thing right now anyway," I felt my stomach sink for a moment before I pushed the surge of emotion away for the moment. I could break down later, I had a job to do right now.
"Anyway, we've got a lot of work this month if we want to be ready for departure," Sheppard changed the subject to ease the tension.
"More like three weeks," I shrugged. "I'm giving y'all the week of Christmas off, seeing as we'll be in transit for any New Years celebrations."
"What's the plan for base security while we're gone?" Peterson asked. "Squatters might try to set up shop after we're gone if we're not careful."
"I'm leasing the land out to farmers," I explained. "And giving them the authorization to shoot anyone who doesn't provide proper identification."
"So we're not leaving anything here then?"
"Nope," I smirked. "Only thing we're leaving here on the base is a handful of indy-mechs that I'm letting the farmers use. And if anyone tries to steal them then they're going to have to deal with a bunch of pissed off farmers."
"Ouch," Sheppard shuddered. "I'd hate to be the son of a bitch that tried that."
"Exactly," I replied. "Now, let's discuss training plans, Paige's got her group training up on the dropships and Jumpship for now, but we've got to get our own stuff together before we take on any contracts."
"I guess I'm getting a white Christmas," I looked out at the snow falling down around the prefabricated buildings of the base. "My kids would've loved to see this."
I swirled my cup of hot chocolate around as I stepped out into the brisk air and breathed deeply, enjoying the fresh air and the nice crisp feeling of freshly fallen snow.
Grabbing the guitar case that was leaning up against the wall, I slung the soft shell onto my back before heading to the nearby truck I had bought.
Tossing the guitar into the back seat, I climbed in and cranked the truck up, the combustion engine roaring to life as I shifted into drive and headed for the nearby copse of trees that I had left standing when we cleared the majority of the land.
In the middle of the trees and boughs laden with snow, was a small stone circle, with a small roofed cutout with dried logs underneath it.
Bringing out a large stump, I stacked a log onto it, and grabbed the nearby ax that we had stationed there. Taking a few practice swings, I nodded to myself and drive the ax down, splitting the log into two pieces before grabbing the halves and splitting those as well, stacking the dried lumber in the middle of the stone circle as I continued to chop wood.
Sweat dripped down my body as I set the ax down and removed my jacket, rolling up my sleeves on the long sleeved shirt I had on and stacking the extra wood to the side.
Then, grabbing some kindling, I stacked the wood up in the way I had been taught many years ago. I started with the kindling, some dried leaves and other small easy to catch items that immediately caught flame, the orange glow gradually moving up the larger pieces as the fuel began to be consumed.
Warmth entered the clearing, melting any snow that surrounded the fire pit and filling up the twilight of the evening.
Heading back to the truck, I grabbed a small bag and the guitar case before seating myself at the fire. After sitting down, I opened the bag and took out a small metal skewer and a bag of marshmallows, a stack of graham crackers, and a chocolate bar.
"It's not Hershey's," I grinned at the sight of the ingredients. "But it's as close as I'm gonna get."
Putting two marshmallows on the end of the metal stick, I set it at the perfect distance for melting and cooking while I prepared the rest of the S'mores sections, the graham crackers sitting on the stone surrounding the fire to toast up a bit while I set the chocolate on top.
Seeing a light golden brown on the marshmallows, I pulled them from the fire and set them on the chocolate, folding the other half of the cracker and crushing the fluffy goodness before removing the metal rod.
And then I bit into the treat, the flavors bringing me back to time spent with my family around a similar campfire, of a time when I wrestled and played with my kids and taught my siblings how to shoot properly.
But all too soon, the food was gone, and the memories faded away once again, leaving me alone in a small forest clearing with a guitar and a fire.
Picking up the instrument, I hooked up a small electric tuner to it, checking each string before strumming and picking with the four chords I knew to play.
I closed my eyes and began strumming, enjoying the soft melody of a song that I used to play, and as I did so, it felt like a warm blanket or hug descended over me, a warmth I hadn't felt since I had arrived here, and a peace about the decisions I had made settled in.
"Y'know, it's not good for anyone to spend Christmas alone," Sheppard stepped into the clearing, followed by the rest of the unit we had put together.
"I hope you brought more skewers," I replied. "I only have enough for one person."
"We got you covered boss," Peterson brought out a metal grate that he set on top of the fire, and then opening a cooler, he brought out strips of beef and other meats. "I hope you're hungry, because we're eating good tonight!"
Author's Note: Trying out a new Date/Time layout, let me know if you like it better than the other way.
Simonbob
Well-known member
Sorry.
Didn't even notice. That kinda stuff usually I just don't even see, these days.
Chapter 28
MarkWarrior
Well-known member
Chapter 28
Date: January 15, 3002
Location: En route to New Syrtis. ETA 40 days.
"So, it looks like we'll be in transit for thirty-six days or so," I looked around. "Are there any places that we can use for training in the icy conditions on New Syrtis?"
"You'll have to convince a noble or someone with some pull to allow us to do anything," Sheppard shrugged. "Otherwise, we can use the sims and that'll be about it."
"It might be more trouble than it's worth," Peterson commented from where he was snuggled up in a Zero-G swing. "One of the benefits to being a new merc unit is that no one knows what to expect from us yet. And the last thing we want to do is give a potential enemy a look into how we fight."
"He's got a point," Sheppard nodded. "Even though we've only got some mechanized infantry and a lance of 'Mechs, it's still the kind of thing that people will want to look into."
"Especially pirates," Sergeant Packer finally spoke up. "Despite what most propaganda says, pirates are effective precisely because they have excellent intel gathering. They position people in just the right places to get access to the nature of the defenses at hand. Then they strike where they know the defenses won't be and take what they want, killing everyone who stands in their way."
"Well, the plan is to focus on anti piracy operations for our first few contracts," I responded. "My hope is to negotiate good salvage rights and see if we can get some experience under our belts before moving onto other contracts."
"Taurians are always looking for decent units to deal with pirates," Sheppard said after a moment of thought. "But they might be a bit suspicious of us at first."
"Yeah," Packer chuckled. "They don't look too kindly on those of us from the Fedsuns. But they know not to alienate too many merc units, so we shouldn't run into too many issues outside of a few bars."
"Well, considering I was hoping to recruit some more people while we were on our next contract, let's hope that they aren't too spiteful."
"Warning, docking is in progress, please remain in your designated area."
"Whoever recorded Bitchin' Betty's voice lines is making a lot of money," I remarked.
"You have no idea," Peterson chuckled. "I've heard stories from other units that she even recorded lines in Mandarin, Japanese, and German. She really wanted to be everywhere."
"I wonder if her family still charges license fees for it," Sheppard stroked the bits of stubble that were beginning to grow on his chin.
"I doubt we'll ever find out," I shrugged. "It's not like she's still alive and hanging out somewhere."
"You never know," Packer disagreed. "The universe is an unusual and strange place. The oddest things show up when you least expect it sometimes."
Date: February 28, 3002
Location: New Syrtis, Capellan March Capital, Federated Suns
"Let me know the bill once you're all done," I looked at Sheppard and the small group that would be heading to the hospitals on New Syrtis. "Y'all should just focus on getting healed up."
"You got it, boss," a cheerful man in a wheelchair replied. "I can't wait to get up on my feet again!"
"Just take it slow," I smiled. "We're not gonna throw you to the wolves just yet."
"Why not?" the man laughed. "I'd make fantastic bait. Anyone here interested in a wolfskin coat?"
"Hush you," his wife smacked him in the back of the head. "Sorry about him, his sense of humor is awful, but it grows on you after a bit."
"Better humor than falling off the deep end," Sheppard grinned. "Hey stumpy, I'll take you up on that offer, I've always wanted to see what wolf tastes like!"
"You'll have to catch me first!" he wheeled off down the sidewalk.
"He's gonna want to get in a tank once we've got one," Sheppard turned to me after the husband and wife duo were out of earshot. "The guy's got a helluva story about his time in the service."
"Oh," I raised an eyebrow. "What's it about?"
"It's the sort of story that if you didn't have the Battleroms to prove it no one would believe it," Sheppard began. "Richard used to be the gunner for a Scorpion, and what was supposed to be a skirmish on the border between his unit and the Crappies turned into a near battalion on battalion battle."
"Seems normal so far," I replied. "I assume it gets better from here?"
"You have no idea," Sheppard shakes his head. "It's a foggy day and neither side has a clear picture of what the other is up to, when out of the fog steps an Awesome. Now, the rest of his lance is already engaged with other 'mechs, but that doesn't stop him or his driver, they begin exchanging fire with the Awesome at extreme range, and then as the battle lines close, they decide to get up close and personal."
"Up close and personal with an assault 'mech?" I asked.
"They were ordered to pull back a couple of times, but Richard and the driver ignore the orders, directly taking one PPC to their front armor and narrowly avoiding the other two before a miracle happened when the Awesome tried to stomp on them. The 'mech slipped and fell forward, crumpling part of their Scorpion, but their guns were still functional. So they ripped the cockpit to shreds with their AC/5 and then tried to pull out of there. They limped back to friendly lines, but Richard's legs were the price paid for taking out the enemy CO."
"I'll see what I can find for him," I said after a minute of processing a long story told in short format. "What was his wife's name?"
"Rose?" Sheppard asked. "She was the driver, why do you think she married him? They were the only two people crazy enough to stick with each other after taking on an 80 ton assault 'mech in a Scorpion of all things."
"I did hire her too, right?" I turned to Peterson.
"They're a package deal," he smirked. "And I'm glad to have them with us, not often you get some experience tankers who are crazy enough to pull that sort of shit."
"Can I get a copy of the Battlerom?" I asked.
"It's in every officer school in the Capellan March on what not to do as an Combat Vehicle crew," Sheppard replied. "We can find you a copy."
Author's Note: The story told towards the end is something that actually happened on one of my Megamek games. A Scorpion crew took on an Awesome and headcapped it while being kicked at in the game and won. Remember, sometimes, dice do crazy things, and it simulates how similar things can happen in real life.
Date: January 15, 3002
Location: En route to New Syrtis. ETA 40 days.
"So, it looks like we'll be in transit for thirty-six days or so," I looked around. "Are there any places that we can use for training in the icy conditions on New Syrtis?"
"You'll have to convince a noble or someone with some pull to allow us to do anything," Sheppard shrugged. "Otherwise, we can use the sims and that'll be about it."
"It might be more trouble than it's worth," Peterson commented from where he was snuggled up in a Zero-G swing. "One of the benefits to being a new merc unit is that no one knows what to expect from us yet. And the last thing we want to do is give a potential enemy a look into how we fight."
"He's got a point," Sheppard nodded. "Even though we've only got some mechanized infantry and a lance of 'Mechs, it's still the kind of thing that people will want to look into."
"Especially pirates," Sergeant Packer finally spoke up. "Despite what most propaganda says, pirates are effective precisely because they have excellent intel gathering. They position people in just the right places to get access to the nature of the defenses at hand. Then they strike where they know the defenses won't be and take what they want, killing everyone who stands in their way."
"Well, the plan is to focus on anti piracy operations for our first few contracts," I responded. "My hope is to negotiate good salvage rights and see if we can get some experience under our belts before moving onto other contracts."
"Taurians are always looking for decent units to deal with pirates," Sheppard said after a moment of thought. "But they might be a bit suspicious of us at first."
"Yeah," Packer chuckled. "They don't look too kindly on those of us from the Fedsuns. But they know not to alienate too many merc units, so we shouldn't run into too many issues outside of a few bars."
"Well, considering I was hoping to recruit some more people while we were on our next contract, let's hope that they aren't too spiteful."
"Warning, docking is in progress, please remain in your designated area."
"Whoever recorded Bitchin' Betty's voice lines is making a lot of money," I remarked.
"You have no idea," Peterson chuckled. "I've heard stories from other units that she even recorded lines in Mandarin, Japanese, and German. She really wanted to be everywhere."
"I wonder if her family still charges license fees for it," Sheppard stroked the bits of stubble that were beginning to grow on his chin.
"I doubt we'll ever find out," I shrugged. "It's not like she's still alive and hanging out somewhere."
"You never know," Packer disagreed. "The universe is an unusual and strange place. The oddest things show up when you least expect it sometimes."
Date: February 28, 3002
Location: New Syrtis, Capellan March Capital, Federated Suns
"Let me know the bill once you're all done," I looked at Sheppard and the small group that would be heading to the hospitals on New Syrtis. "Y'all should just focus on getting healed up."
"You got it, boss," a cheerful man in a wheelchair replied. "I can't wait to get up on my feet again!"
"Just take it slow," I smiled. "We're not gonna throw you to the wolves just yet."
"Why not?" the man laughed. "I'd make fantastic bait. Anyone here interested in a wolfskin coat?"
"Hush you," his wife smacked him in the back of the head. "Sorry about him, his sense of humor is awful, but it grows on you after a bit."
"Better humor than falling off the deep end," Sheppard grinned. "Hey stumpy, I'll take you up on that offer, I've always wanted to see what wolf tastes like!"
"You'll have to catch me first!" he wheeled off down the sidewalk.
"He's gonna want to get in a tank once we've got one," Sheppard turned to me after the husband and wife duo were out of earshot. "The guy's got a helluva story about his time in the service."
"Oh," I raised an eyebrow. "What's it about?"
"It's the sort of story that if you didn't have the Battleroms to prove it no one would believe it," Sheppard began. "Richard used to be the gunner for a Scorpion, and what was supposed to be a skirmish on the border between his unit and the Crappies turned into a near battalion on battalion battle."
"Seems normal so far," I replied. "I assume it gets better from here?"
"You have no idea," Sheppard shakes his head. "It's a foggy day and neither side has a clear picture of what the other is up to, when out of the fog steps an Awesome. Now, the rest of his lance is already engaged with other 'mechs, but that doesn't stop him or his driver, they begin exchanging fire with the Awesome at extreme range, and then as the battle lines close, they decide to get up close and personal."
"Up close and personal with an assault 'mech?" I asked.
"They were ordered to pull back a couple of times, but Richard and the driver ignore the orders, directly taking one PPC to their front armor and narrowly avoiding the other two before a miracle happened when the Awesome tried to stomp on them. The 'mech slipped and fell forward, crumpling part of their Scorpion, but their guns were still functional. So they ripped the cockpit to shreds with their AC/5 and then tried to pull out of there. They limped back to friendly lines, but Richard's legs were the price paid for taking out the enemy CO."
"I'll see what I can find for him," I said after a minute of processing a long story told in short format. "What was his wife's name?"
"Rose?" Sheppard asked. "She was the driver, why do you think she married him? They were the only two people crazy enough to stick with each other after taking on an 80 ton assault 'mech in a Scorpion of all things."
"I did hire her too, right?" I turned to Peterson.
"They're a package deal," he smirked. "And I'm glad to have them with us, not often you get some experience tankers who are crazy enough to pull that sort of shit."
"Can I get a copy of the Battlerom?" I asked.
"It's in every officer school in the Capellan March on what not to do as an Combat Vehicle crew," Sheppard replied. "We can find you a copy."
Author's Note: The story told towards the end is something that actually happened on one of my Megamek games. A Scorpion crew took on an Awesome and headcapped it while being kicked at in the game and won. Remember, sometimes, dice do crazy things, and it simulates how similar things can happen in real life.
Impossible things during war - here,old soviet joke:
Three soviets agreed that whoever told something impossible from WW2,would get free vodka from others.
Tanker:
I meet Tiger in T.34.76,and my schoots did notching.Tiger fired at me,i fired at 88mm schell,my 76mm schell meet it and destroyed in air.Theni fired at enemy barrell,76mm schell go through barrell and explode iside Tiger turret.
Others: could happen.
Pilot:
I was in my fighter,germans schoot down my friend which paraschute do not worked.I flied to him,catched from my cocpit,and saved his life.
Others: could happen
Infrantrymen:
We had fat battalion chief,responsible for logistic ,including food.He never steal anytching from us!
Others: here,this is your vodka.
Three soviets agreed that whoever told something impossible from WW2,would get free vodka from others.
Tanker:
I meet Tiger in T.34.76,and my schoots did notching.Tiger fired at me,i fired at 88mm schell,my 76mm schell meet it and destroyed in air.Theni fired at enemy barrell,76mm schell go through barrell and explode iside Tiger turret.
Others: could happen.
Pilot:
I was in my fighter,germans schoot down my friend which paraschute do not worked.I flied to him,catched from my cocpit,and saved his life.
Others: could happen
Infrantrymen:
We had fat battalion chief,responsible for logistic ,including food.He never steal anytching from us!
Others: here,this is your vodka.
Chapter 29
MarkWarrior
Well-known member
Chapter 29
Date: March 4th, 3002
Location: New Syrtis, Capellan March Capital, Federated Suns
"So," I looked at the woman sitting across from me. "You just got fired from a major shipping company. Why should I hire you as a dropship captain instead of the other five candidates I've got?"
"Because I'm the only one who's served in a military organization," Victoria Jewel leaned back in her chair. "Because Kaylee Frye vouches for me, and because my entire crew followed me when I was fired from the last company," she leaned forward. "Which given the dropships you have available, would mean that you get to crew both of your remaining ships for the cost of one crew."
"The shipping company didn't exactly leave you with a sterling review," I raised an eyebrow. "They actually went out of their way to blacklist you."
"That's what happens when you piss off the wrong people for speaking the truth," she shrugged. "They were using Quikscell parts to maintain their Mules, and I called them out on their bullshit. Told them that it wasn't safe for my crews to use those spare parts, and then I committed the cardinal sin after they told me to suck it up."
"And the cardinal sin was?" I asked.
"I paid to replace the spare parts with quality components with my own money and had the scrap that Quikscell has for sale documented and tested," She smirked. "Then I reported them to the FedSuns inspection teams. They didn't take too kindly to that."
"So, I should be able to get confirmation from the authorities then," I looked her directly in the eye. "I trust you, but I want to verify this before we continue with the hiring process."
"Totally understood," She pulled a small wallet out of her purse, a small glint showing a concealed pistol and knife before it closed again. "Here, you can contact me here for the next few weeks," she handed me a small card with the address of a local bed and breakfast joint. "If you haven't made a decision by then, my crew and I are going to be moving on, we can't afford to stay here long term."
"Got it," I stood up and shook her hand. "I'll get back to you by the end of this week with my decision."
"Glad to hear it," She stood up to leave. "Thanks for being willing to meet with me at all, not many have been willing to let me through to an interview after I was blacklisted."
"I figured I should at least hear you out," I held the door for her. "After all, you're coming with a crew, and that's not something most can say."
I closed the door of my rented office and sat back down behind the desk that had been provided and then checked the time.
"The FedSuns local branch of federal law enforcement should still be open," I muttered to myself as I opened the phone book that had been provided. "Let's see what they have to say about Miss Jewel."
Date: March 7, 3002
"What can I get started for you?" a young waitress stepped up to my table.
"Some water to drink and a menu if you have it," I replied, looking out across the croud of people with a small smile on my face.
"Here's a menu, and I'll be right back with the water," she smiled and slid a laminated sheet over before vanishing.
I had interviewed over thirty people in the last two days and I needed a break. So I had come here, a local steakhouse that had been open since around the colonization of the planet as a whole.
"Decide what you want yet?" The woman came back and set the glass of water in front of me.
"I think I'll take this," I pointed to the steak on the menu. "And I'll take both of the normal sides with it."
"Will you be needing any steaksauce?" She asked.
"I'm not a heretic," I chuckled. "Just make sure the steak is medium-rare and we'll be fine."
"Sounds good," she jotted everything down and then gave me a short nod before heading to the next table.
I leaned back and smiled as I watched people interact, the warm atmosphere at odds with the cold planet. Life would never be perfect, but the moments like this where I could slow down and look at the joy of others brought a sort of peace over me. I closed my eyes and inhaled deeply, opening them again to see someone sliding into the booth across from me.
"Can I help you?" I asked the young woman.
"Uh," she blushed from her nose to the tips of her ears, the red glow almost shining as her embarrassment was clear. "Hi, I'm Emily."
"Evening," I raised my glass as I tried my best not to laugh noting a small group of college age girls looking intently at our interaction. "Your friends put you up to this?"
"Yes, no," She shook her head. "Kinda?" she raised an eyebrow. "I think you're cute, and they said I should come see if I can get your number or something."
"Well Emily, I'm not really looking to date someone at the moment," I lifted my hand to show the wedding band still on my left hand, wincing as she seemed to deflate instantly. "But I'll gladly share the rest of the meal with you."
"Thank you," she whispered. "I'm sorry for prepositioning you like this."
"Don't be," I smiled at her. "I'm actually flattered. Now, if you want, you can invite your friends over so I can explain what happened."
"Yeah," she perked up. "I'll go get them," She stood and walked over to the table of girls, her hands moving as she spoke.
"So much for a quiet evening," I laughed a bit before catching sight of my ring, my mood sombering immediately as the memory of my last date with my wife flashed through my mind.
"Your steak," the Waitress's voice broke me out of my reverie as she refilled my water and set the plate down, the massive steak looking glorious on the plate.
"Lotta steak on that plate," the flock of girls sat across from me, one of them smirking as she spoke. "You sure you can handle all that meat."
"You don't want to play that game with me," I looked at the one who had spoken the innuendo. "I have stockpiles of dad jokes that have been unused for the last two years. I'm perfectly willing to open that vault."
"Oh really," She leaned forward. "I'll take that as a chall-mph," he voice was muffled as Emily shoved a scarf into it.
"NO! She smacked her friend with a glove. "We are not going to sit here and listen to bad jokes and your awful puns. Bad Jenny, bad."
"I'm not a cat you know," the redhead removed the scarf from her mouth. "Now, I don't think any of us got your name, stranger."
"Mark Hull," I replied, dipping my head a bit in greeting. "Pleasure to meet you."
"You got any cool stories to go with the tall mysterious angle, or are you just an average guy?"
"I think I've got a pretty interesting story," I shrugged as I slowly savored a bite of my steak. "But whether you'll believe me or not isn't exactly up to me."
"Well, if I have to be here, I might as well hear a story."
"Alright," I took a sip of water. "Where do I begin?"
Date: March 4th, 3002
Location: New Syrtis, Capellan March Capital, Federated Suns
"So," I looked at the woman sitting across from me. "You just got fired from a major shipping company. Why should I hire you as a dropship captain instead of the other five candidates I've got?"
"Because I'm the only one who's served in a military organization," Victoria Jewel leaned back in her chair. "Because Kaylee Frye vouches for me, and because my entire crew followed me when I was fired from the last company," she leaned forward. "Which given the dropships you have available, would mean that you get to crew both of your remaining ships for the cost of one crew."
"The shipping company didn't exactly leave you with a sterling review," I raised an eyebrow. "They actually went out of their way to blacklist you."
"That's what happens when you piss off the wrong people for speaking the truth," she shrugged. "They were using Quikscell parts to maintain their Mules, and I called them out on their bullshit. Told them that it wasn't safe for my crews to use those spare parts, and then I committed the cardinal sin after they told me to suck it up."
"And the cardinal sin was?" I asked.
"I paid to replace the spare parts with quality components with my own money and had the scrap that Quikscell has for sale documented and tested," She smirked. "Then I reported them to the FedSuns inspection teams. They didn't take too kindly to that."
"So, I should be able to get confirmation from the authorities then," I looked her directly in the eye. "I trust you, but I want to verify this before we continue with the hiring process."
"Totally understood," She pulled a small wallet out of her purse, a small glint showing a concealed pistol and knife before it closed again. "Here, you can contact me here for the next few weeks," she handed me a small card with the address of a local bed and breakfast joint. "If you haven't made a decision by then, my crew and I are going to be moving on, we can't afford to stay here long term."
"Got it," I stood up and shook her hand. "I'll get back to you by the end of this week with my decision."
"Glad to hear it," She stood up to leave. "Thanks for being willing to meet with me at all, not many have been willing to let me through to an interview after I was blacklisted."
"I figured I should at least hear you out," I held the door for her. "After all, you're coming with a crew, and that's not something most can say."
I closed the door of my rented office and sat back down behind the desk that had been provided and then checked the time.
"The FedSuns local branch of federal law enforcement should still be open," I muttered to myself as I opened the phone book that had been provided. "Let's see what they have to say about Miss Jewel."
Date: March 7, 3002
"What can I get started for you?" a young waitress stepped up to my table.
"Some water to drink and a menu if you have it," I replied, looking out across the croud of people with a small smile on my face.
"Here's a menu, and I'll be right back with the water," she smiled and slid a laminated sheet over before vanishing.
I had interviewed over thirty people in the last two days and I needed a break. So I had come here, a local steakhouse that had been open since around the colonization of the planet as a whole.
"Decide what you want yet?" The woman came back and set the glass of water in front of me.
"I think I'll take this," I pointed to the steak on the menu. "And I'll take both of the normal sides with it."
"Will you be needing any steaksauce?" She asked.
"I'm not a heretic," I chuckled. "Just make sure the steak is medium-rare and we'll be fine."
"Sounds good," she jotted everything down and then gave me a short nod before heading to the next table.
I leaned back and smiled as I watched people interact, the warm atmosphere at odds with the cold planet. Life would never be perfect, but the moments like this where I could slow down and look at the joy of others brought a sort of peace over me. I closed my eyes and inhaled deeply, opening them again to see someone sliding into the booth across from me.
"Can I help you?" I asked the young woman.
"Uh," she blushed from her nose to the tips of her ears, the red glow almost shining as her embarrassment was clear. "Hi, I'm Emily."
"Evening," I raised my glass as I tried my best not to laugh noting a small group of college age girls looking intently at our interaction. "Your friends put you up to this?"
"Yes, no," She shook her head. "Kinda?" she raised an eyebrow. "I think you're cute, and they said I should come see if I can get your number or something."
"Well Emily, I'm not really looking to date someone at the moment," I lifted my hand to show the wedding band still on my left hand, wincing as she seemed to deflate instantly. "But I'll gladly share the rest of the meal with you."
"Thank you," she whispered. "I'm sorry for prepositioning you like this."
"Don't be," I smiled at her. "I'm actually flattered. Now, if you want, you can invite your friends over so I can explain what happened."
"Yeah," she perked up. "I'll go get them," She stood and walked over to the table of girls, her hands moving as she spoke.
"So much for a quiet evening," I laughed a bit before catching sight of my ring, my mood sombering immediately as the memory of my last date with my wife flashed through my mind.
"Your steak," the Waitress's voice broke me out of my reverie as she refilled my water and set the plate down, the massive steak looking glorious on the plate.
"Lotta steak on that plate," the flock of girls sat across from me, one of them smirking as she spoke. "You sure you can handle all that meat."
"You don't want to play that game with me," I looked at the one who had spoken the innuendo. "I have stockpiles of dad jokes that have been unused for the last two years. I'm perfectly willing to open that vault."
"Oh really," She leaned forward. "I'll take that as a chall-mph," he voice was muffled as Emily shoved a scarf into it.
"NO! She smacked her friend with a glove. "We are not going to sit here and listen to bad jokes and your awful puns. Bad Jenny, bad."
"I'm not a cat you know," the redhead removed the scarf from her mouth. "Now, I don't think any of us got your name, stranger."
"Mark Hull," I replied, dipping my head a bit in greeting. "Pleasure to meet you."
"You got any cool stories to go with the tall mysterious angle, or are you just an average guy?"
"I think I've got a pretty interesting story," I shrugged as I slowly savored a bite of my steak. "But whether you'll believe me or not isn't exactly up to me."
"Well, if I have to be here, I might as well hear a story."
"Alright," I took a sip of water. "Where do I begin?"
Heresy! Blue and Tartare is the best. The furthest I would accept is rare.
Chapter 30
MarkWarrior
Well-known member
Chapter 30
"So," Victoria looked at the other people who were a part of the Command staff of the newly formed 'Marksman'. "Does anyone actually believe Hull's story?" She took a swig of her beer before dipping a pretzel in some cheese.
"Kinda hard to argue against it," Erika shrugged. "I watched his Jumpship appear, the guy might be lying about the time travel, but it's kinda hard to ignore what I saw."
"Which was?" Sheppard asked.
"A broken man," Erika refused to look up from where she idly played with her food. "He didn't even know how to speak to us for the first month. Thought we were just more hallucinations. The poor fucker didn't even know what the difference between reality and his dreams anymore."
"Damn," Packer winced. "Well, it seems he's recovering pretty well."
"The guy's an absolute mess," Erika shook her head. "He's got a good head on his shoulders, and is pretty easy going, but I'm pretty sure he needs us more than we need him at the moment."
"And we left him alone?!" Naomi nearly shouted. "What kind of friends and staff are we? We let one of our walking wounded just get up and leave."
"Easy there," Richard cautioned his wife. "I'm sure there's a perfectly good explanation."
"He had himself checked out by a shrink while we were on Pierce," Peterson finally cut in. "I was the one that dropped 'im off."
"And?" Naomi asked.
"And, he's supposed to ease himself back into full socialization," Peterson explained. "No group outings larger than ten people until he knows how to handle himself around them again. Two years of solitude did a number on his social battery and sense of being. One on one, he'll be fine, but he'll need to figure out how to deal with larger groups as we expand in size."
"Great," Victoria snarked as she downed her beer and signaled for another. "So we've all signed up to work with a nutcase as our leader. This'll go really well."
"The guy's a wizard in a 'mech or with a handgun," Sheppard shrugged. "And he's not half bad at small unit tactics, and has some pretty unique ideas for larger unit tactics. I'm willing to give it a shot. If only because he's doing right by those of us who needed help."
"Fuck it!" Jewel laughed. "I've already signed the contract, I'm stuck with ya for now!" She raised her glass. "To the Marksman!"
"Marksman," The rest of them raised their glasses in a salute before taking a drink.
"Why'd he spell it like that, anyway?" Peterson asked. "I've been meaning to ask why it has an 'A' instead of an 'E'."
"Someone already has the Marksmen, even if the unit is pretty much just a Leopard and a Lance holding onto scraps in the Outworlds Alliance," Packer said, freezing as everyone turned to look at him. "What? I had Rook look into it," He shrugged. "Not like we haven't had time to do that sort of research lately."
"Makes sense to me," Sheppard chuckled. "Not like there's any truly unique name out there after all."
"At least he didn't call us something even more ridiculous," Victoria muttered.
"What? Naomi asked. "Like the Dragon Guard or something?"
"Trevor's Timbuktoos?" Richard grinned. "Or the Fighting Quakers."
"Women's Auxiliary Balloon Corps," Erika tossed a name out. "Or maybe the Short Range Recon Patrol Group."
"Bob Semple Armoured Brigade? Victoria sounded out. "Or, TOG's heavy cavalry?"
"Plenty of silly names that people can pick from for a merc unit," Packer joined in. "Order of the Barley There, The Dead Phoenix, the Ghost Regiment of the Living Dead, the Fair Weather Irregulars."
"I like that last one," Peterson grinned. "Might try to work that in somewhere."
The group dissolved into drunken laughter as silly names were thrown about for the rest of the night, with each name getting more and more ridiculous as the night wore on.
"It looks like most of the ones who needed medical will make a full recovery," Sheppard said as he leaned on a cane, the doctors forcing him to use it until his physical therapy was finished.
"Alright," I looked at the list of payments that I needed to make. "I'll keep the ones that aren't combat capable on," I jotted down a note on the side of one of the documents. "They'll know something about logistics, and even if they just stay to give advice they'll be helpful."
"I'd make the offer at least," Sheppard agreed. "Some of them won't be willing to take it, but others might."
"We'll see," I rubbed my eyes, feeling as if I hadn't gotten any sleep the night before.
"Long night?" Sheppard wagged his eyebrows, a knowing smirk on his face.
"Not in that way," I yawned. "I'm not going to commit myself to anything for while. Some things take longer to move on from."
"I get it," Sheppard quickly shifted from silly to serious. "It's not easy to move on when you've lost loved ones."
"No, it isn't," I turned my full attention to the paperwork in front of me, cutting that area of speech off entirely. "Do we have a rough ETA on when everyone will be back up and ready for action?"
"Two, three months?" Sheppard asked. "Most of the physical therapy we can do in transit if we need to, though I'd be concerned if we don't have some good medstaff on hand for some of us reinjuring ourselves."
"We'll pick some up," I assured him. "We'll spend another month here and then head out towards Camadierre. Our first leg of the anti-piracy contract begins there, and I'd hate for us to be late."
"A good first impression wouldn't be the wrong thing to make," Sheppard Agreed. "Especially when the Bulls won't be too happy to have a unit made up of a lot of Fedsuns around."
"We'll cross that bridge when we get to it," I shrugged. "We'll get along with them, or we won't. In which case we won't stick around for another contract."
"Well, either way, we're going to want to see if there's anything on the markets for sale there," Sheppard leaned over his side of the desk to look at a few things I pointed at. "They've got a pretty thriving Merc market there, and we might be able to pick up some nice stuff in a salvage yard or an auction. Factory fresh might be worth it, but not at the prices they fetch in order to get it anytime soon."
"If a Marauder becomes available we'll pick one up," I replied. "Not like we can't afford one."
"We can't think like that forever though," he shook his head. "We've got to work and act as if we don't have the reserves that we do, otherwise our stomachs'll be bigger than our heads, and then we'll get hammered by a pirate unit that we couldn't take on."
"Right," I yawned again. "Sorry, I'm a bit sleepy at the moment."
"What time did you start on this?" Sheppard looked at the 'Completed' stack of paperwork.
"Five, Six?" I asked myself. "It was after my workout."
"And you read all of the fine print," Sheppard sighed. "Mark, it's seven in the evening, you need to be done."
"Can't," I shook my head. "I've got to work."
"No, you really don't," the other man pointed out. "You just went through Seventeen different medical reports and bills, read all of the legalese, and negotiated the bills as low as you could get them. You've done enough for the day."
"When I stop working, that's when it all starts over again," I looked Sheppard in the eye. "I need to be doing something, anything to keep the whispers at bay."
"Mark, you're done," Jack glared. "You need to rest, and then we need to make you an appointment with a new shrink. Might be worth seeing if there's any medications that will help you out with some of that mess."
"I'm fine," I replied. "I can sleep when I'm dead."
"Famous last words…"
"So," Victoria looked at the other people who were a part of the Command staff of the newly formed 'Marksman'. "Does anyone actually believe Hull's story?" She took a swig of her beer before dipping a pretzel in some cheese.
"Kinda hard to argue against it," Erika shrugged. "I watched his Jumpship appear, the guy might be lying about the time travel, but it's kinda hard to ignore what I saw."
"Which was?" Sheppard asked.
"A broken man," Erika refused to look up from where she idly played with her food. "He didn't even know how to speak to us for the first month. Thought we were just more hallucinations. The poor fucker didn't even know what the difference between reality and his dreams anymore."
"Damn," Packer winced. "Well, it seems he's recovering pretty well."
"The guy's an absolute mess," Erika shook her head. "He's got a good head on his shoulders, and is pretty easy going, but I'm pretty sure he needs us more than we need him at the moment."
"And we left him alone?!" Naomi nearly shouted. "What kind of friends and staff are we? We let one of our walking wounded just get up and leave."
"Easy there," Richard cautioned his wife. "I'm sure there's a perfectly good explanation."
"He had himself checked out by a shrink while we were on Pierce," Peterson finally cut in. "I was the one that dropped 'im off."
"And?" Naomi asked.
"And, he's supposed to ease himself back into full socialization," Peterson explained. "No group outings larger than ten people until he knows how to handle himself around them again. Two years of solitude did a number on his social battery and sense of being. One on one, he'll be fine, but he'll need to figure out how to deal with larger groups as we expand in size."
"Great," Victoria snarked as she downed her beer and signaled for another. "So we've all signed up to work with a nutcase as our leader. This'll go really well."
"The guy's a wizard in a 'mech or with a handgun," Sheppard shrugged. "And he's not half bad at small unit tactics, and has some pretty unique ideas for larger unit tactics. I'm willing to give it a shot. If only because he's doing right by those of us who needed help."
"Fuck it!" Jewel laughed. "I've already signed the contract, I'm stuck with ya for now!" She raised her glass. "To the Marksman!"
"Marksman," The rest of them raised their glasses in a salute before taking a drink.
"Why'd he spell it like that, anyway?" Peterson asked. "I've been meaning to ask why it has an 'A' instead of an 'E'."
"Someone already has the Marksmen, even if the unit is pretty much just a Leopard and a Lance holding onto scraps in the Outworlds Alliance," Packer said, freezing as everyone turned to look at him. "What? I had Rook look into it," He shrugged. "Not like we haven't had time to do that sort of research lately."
"Makes sense to me," Sheppard chuckled. "Not like there's any truly unique name out there after all."
"At least he didn't call us something even more ridiculous," Victoria muttered.
"What? Naomi asked. "Like the Dragon Guard or something?"
"Trevor's Timbuktoos?" Richard grinned. "Or the Fighting Quakers."
"Women's Auxiliary Balloon Corps," Erika tossed a name out. "Or maybe the Short Range Recon Patrol Group."
"Bob Semple Armoured Brigade? Victoria sounded out. "Or, TOG's heavy cavalry?"
"Plenty of silly names that people can pick from for a merc unit," Packer joined in. "Order of the Barley There, The Dead Phoenix, the Ghost Regiment of the Living Dead, the Fair Weather Irregulars."
"I like that last one," Peterson grinned. "Might try to work that in somewhere."
The group dissolved into drunken laughter as silly names were thrown about for the rest of the night, with each name getting more and more ridiculous as the night wore on.
"It looks like most of the ones who needed medical will make a full recovery," Sheppard said as he leaned on a cane, the doctors forcing him to use it until his physical therapy was finished.
"Alright," I looked at the list of payments that I needed to make. "I'll keep the ones that aren't combat capable on," I jotted down a note on the side of one of the documents. "They'll know something about logistics, and even if they just stay to give advice they'll be helpful."
"I'd make the offer at least," Sheppard agreed. "Some of them won't be willing to take it, but others might."
"We'll see," I rubbed my eyes, feeling as if I hadn't gotten any sleep the night before.
"Long night?" Sheppard wagged his eyebrows, a knowing smirk on his face.
"Not in that way," I yawned. "I'm not going to commit myself to anything for while. Some things take longer to move on from."
"I get it," Sheppard quickly shifted from silly to serious. "It's not easy to move on when you've lost loved ones."
"No, it isn't," I turned my full attention to the paperwork in front of me, cutting that area of speech off entirely. "Do we have a rough ETA on when everyone will be back up and ready for action?"
"Two, three months?" Sheppard asked. "Most of the physical therapy we can do in transit if we need to, though I'd be concerned if we don't have some good medstaff on hand for some of us reinjuring ourselves."
"We'll pick some up," I assured him. "We'll spend another month here and then head out towards Camadierre. Our first leg of the anti-piracy contract begins there, and I'd hate for us to be late."
"A good first impression wouldn't be the wrong thing to make," Sheppard Agreed. "Especially when the Bulls won't be too happy to have a unit made up of a lot of Fedsuns around."
"We'll cross that bridge when we get to it," I shrugged. "We'll get along with them, or we won't. In which case we won't stick around for another contract."
"Well, either way, we're going to want to see if there's anything on the markets for sale there," Sheppard leaned over his side of the desk to look at a few things I pointed at. "They've got a pretty thriving Merc market there, and we might be able to pick up some nice stuff in a salvage yard or an auction. Factory fresh might be worth it, but not at the prices they fetch in order to get it anytime soon."
"If a Marauder becomes available we'll pick one up," I replied. "Not like we can't afford one."
"We can't think like that forever though," he shook his head. "We've got to work and act as if we don't have the reserves that we do, otherwise our stomachs'll be bigger than our heads, and then we'll get hammered by a pirate unit that we couldn't take on."
"Right," I yawned again. "Sorry, I'm a bit sleepy at the moment."
"What time did you start on this?" Sheppard looked at the 'Completed' stack of paperwork.
"Five, Six?" I asked myself. "It was after my workout."
"And you read all of the fine print," Sheppard sighed. "Mark, it's seven in the evening, you need to be done."
"Can't," I shook my head. "I've got to work."
"No, you really don't," the other man pointed out. "You just went through Seventeen different medical reports and bills, read all of the legalese, and negotiated the bills as low as you could get them. You've done enough for the day."
"When I stop working, that's when it all starts over again," I looked Sheppard in the eye. "I need to be doing something, anything to keep the whispers at bay."
"Mark, you're done," Jack glared. "You need to rest, and then we need to make you an appointment with a new shrink. Might be worth seeing if there's any medications that will help you out with some of that mess."
"I'm fine," I replied. "I can sleep when I'm dead."
"Famous last words…"
Chapter 31
MarkWarrior
Well-known member
Chapter 31
Date: April 19, 3002
Location: Jumpship King Henry V, En route to Camadierre
"Give me five more," Sheppard muttered as Hull continued pushing the weights up. "Just five mor reps and then we can rest for a bit."
Sweat dripped off of Hull's face as he grunted and allowed the weights to ease down before pushing them right back up and holding there for a brief moment. Then, as he exhaled long and slow, he pumped out four more before pushing the weights up one last time and racking them, sitting up as he grabbed a towel and wiped off some of the sweat.
"Good job," Sheppard gestured for Hull to get up so he could take his place. "You sure you're good to spot me?"
"Yeah," Hull nodded, a far-off look in his eye. "I'm good, just give me a second."
"Actually," Sheppard considered the weights on the bar. "Help me take a couple of Kilos off, I think my max might be lower than yours."
Hull moved to the other side of the bar and shifted a five kilo weight off of it, setting it down on a nearby rack as Sheppard did the same before locking the weights back in place.
"Yeah," Sheppard grunted as Hull began spotting him. "That's the sweet spot."
The men went through the rest of their workout on the grav deck before swapping out with the next group, military fitness required a lot of work, especially when in a zero-g environment for weeks at a time. So, there was mandatory PT for everyone who served, whether they were a part of the dropship crew, or the jumpship didn't matter. You needed to be able and ready to shift from microgravity to full gravities and then fight at the end of the week sometimes.
"Forgot how odd it is to be back and training on a dropship," Sheppard remarked as the two men hit the showers, the thirty seconds of soaped up recycled water cleaning them off enough to ward off any body odor from the sweat, but doing little else.
"This is just routine," Hull shrugged. "I did this a lot over the last few years, I just normally didn't have a spotter."
"Bet you were glad the Hydroponics bays were intact," Sheppard dried off before slipping into a uniform.
"You have no idea," Hull laughed. "I ate way too many SLDF MREs before digging into the hydroponics systems though."
"So what's the plan once we land on Camadierre?" Sheppard finally asked as they moved back towards the docked Messenger.
"Do our job," Hull replied. "And hope that we actually encounter a few pirates. I negotiated salvage rights of sixty percent of everything we get tonnage wise. I'd hate for us to have good salvage rights and not get to utilize them."
"Right," Sheppard nodded. "To be honest, it's going to be weird to have to negotiate for salvage now. Most of us would have had priority over salvage rights back when we were in the March Militia or AFFS."
"House units do tend to get priority," Hull smirked. "But, newer and smaller units get to have a little bit of leeway in regards to salvage. Partially because they don't actually expect us to contribute all that much to taking any enemy units down."
"And you're only allowed salvage from battles that you actually participated in," it clicked in Sheppard's brain. "So, Salvage rights. I assume there are other clauses included in the contracts?"
"Well, yes and no," Hull began. "I'll show you how the MRB helped me work things out, I kept notes."
Date: May 29, 3002
Location: Camadierre, Taurian Concordat
"Unfortunately, we weren't able to reserve the warehouses that you requested the first time," the Concordat Liaison apologized. "Taurus Majoris Mining had an influx of metals and outbid the lease on said warehouses."
"That's fine," I sighed. "I'll see what I can dig up around here."
"Look," the woman glanced around. "I don't have a problem with you, but a lot of civilians are likely to be a little belligerent at first. A lot of y'all are from the Fedsuns, and there's a lot of bad blood there."
"We're just here to keep pirates at bay and collect a paycheck, Cornet," I replied. "We'll keep things on the up and up."
"That's good to hear," she smiled. "Camadierre is normally fairly safe, but pirates seem to grow every year and TMM has been raising hell in the governmental hearings. So, you're going to be an independent lance attached to the vehicle battalion that's stationed here."
"No 'mech support here?" I asked.
"Not enough to cover everything," she shook her head. "The vics are mostly heavies, so we can't quite manage to move to take out pirates before they attack. And any other mercs were directly hired by TMM."
"And we were hired by the Concordat directly," I replied. "So we're here to pin down any pirates that land, and ensure the civilians are safe."
"Right," she nodded. "Unfortunately, I haven't been assigned a 'mech at the moment, so I'm not going to be able to liaison with you directly when you're out in the field, but I'm perfectly willing to ride in a jump seat if I need to."
"Keeping an eye on the Fedrat mercs?" I chuckled.
"Something like that," she joined in. "Just trying to make sure that everything is done properly."
"Alright then," I finally stopped walking. "Thank you for your assistance Cornet Taegan," I shook her hand. "I'll be in touch once I get my people settled down and we'll get the patrol routes set and ready to work through."
"You as well, Captain Hull," She firmly shook my hand back. "I look forward to working with you."
"I told you we'd have issues," Sheppard said as the unit all pitched in to build a handful of prefabricated structures for us to stay in. "The Taurians have issues with the Federated Suns."
"I'm hoping that we won't see a whole lot of issues in the future," I replied. "We kill some pirates and I'm sure they'll change their tune fairly quickly."
"Guess we'll find out, won't we?" Paige chimed in.
"It's a six month contract," I continued working. "I'm sure something will come up for us to fight."
"God willing," Sheppard agreed. "Either way, I want to be involved in any negotiations with TMM and Taurian Manufacturers. I'd love to get my hands on some Taurian vehicles if at all possible. Some Vedettes and SRM carriers would be a great place to start."
"Vedette's only use an Ack-five though," I replied. "Not a lot of damage there."
"You never have Vedettes or Scorpions working alone," Naomi spoke up. "They're supposed to operate in groups, one AC/5 isn't a lot, but five or six working in concert at maximum range isn't anything to sneeze at."
"Mix them in with some LRM carriers and you've got ranged options to punch holes in and then have SRM carriers hidden in the middle of the LRM carriers," Richard said from where he stretched, enjoying the newfound mobility now that he wasn't in a wheelchair. "The ack-fives worry the armor while the missiles help out. When they get close, you hammer with the SRMs and it shreds whatever's left."
"Works on 'mechs, tanks, anything that's willing to come against an armored company," Naomi agreed. "Ideally, you want to mix them in groups of six to eighteen. The AFFS doesn't let us experiment beyond the classroom and sims, but when we were allowed to test using eighteen instead of twelve allowed us a lot more flexibility."
"What do you mean?" I stopped what I was doing, to focus on what Naomi was saying.
"Well," Naomi glanced at Richard before he nodded in affirmation. "The modern day TO&E is based on the Lance, for better or for worse. But, we prefer six man groups," she grabbed some tools off the ground to use as a visual reference. "Right now, we don't have the vehicles or 'mechs to do more than a lance, so it makes sense to stay that way. But, if we shift to six man lances, fireteams, whatever we decide to call them, then we can be a bit more flexible. If, for example we use a base six, and then our company size is eighteen instead of twelve, we can heavily blend and use mixed formations, Six 'mechs, twelve vehicles, etc…"
"And, it allows us to do things like they were talking about with the Vedettes and Missile carriers on a different scale," Richard stated. "Back up each battalion with eighteen artillery pieces and you'll be able to hit any enemy formation hard enough that they'll have trouble getting back up."
"Right now we only have a lance of 'mechs and some infantry," Peterson stepped forward. "But, as we mix formations, we're going to want to have infantry assigned to each company. I'd like to have some jump infantry, but we'll work our way up to it."
"This tactical discussion's fuckin' well and good!" Packer yelled from where he was putting up a wall with his group of infantrymen and women. "But I'd like to sleep inside of an actual barracks tonight!"
"Right," I stood up from where I had been kneeling. "Back to it I guess."
Author's note: And this is where the base Six-man Fireteam that the Marksman used in the original came from.
Date: April 19, 3002
Location: Jumpship King Henry V, En route to Camadierre
"Give me five more," Sheppard muttered as Hull continued pushing the weights up. "Just five mor reps and then we can rest for a bit."
Sweat dripped off of Hull's face as he grunted and allowed the weights to ease down before pushing them right back up and holding there for a brief moment. Then, as he exhaled long and slow, he pumped out four more before pushing the weights up one last time and racking them, sitting up as he grabbed a towel and wiped off some of the sweat.
"Good job," Sheppard gestured for Hull to get up so he could take his place. "You sure you're good to spot me?"
"Yeah," Hull nodded, a far-off look in his eye. "I'm good, just give me a second."
"Actually," Sheppard considered the weights on the bar. "Help me take a couple of Kilos off, I think my max might be lower than yours."
Hull moved to the other side of the bar and shifted a five kilo weight off of it, setting it down on a nearby rack as Sheppard did the same before locking the weights back in place.
"Yeah," Sheppard grunted as Hull began spotting him. "That's the sweet spot."
The men went through the rest of their workout on the grav deck before swapping out with the next group, military fitness required a lot of work, especially when in a zero-g environment for weeks at a time. So, there was mandatory PT for everyone who served, whether they were a part of the dropship crew, or the jumpship didn't matter. You needed to be able and ready to shift from microgravity to full gravities and then fight at the end of the week sometimes.
"Forgot how odd it is to be back and training on a dropship," Sheppard remarked as the two men hit the showers, the thirty seconds of soaped up recycled water cleaning them off enough to ward off any body odor from the sweat, but doing little else.
"This is just routine," Hull shrugged. "I did this a lot over the last few years, I just normally didn't have a spotter."
"Bet you were glad the Hydroponics bays were intact," Sheppard dried off before slipping into a uniform.
"You have no idea," Hull laughed. "I ate way too many SLDF MREs before digging into the hydroponics systems though."
"So what's the plan once we land on Camadierre?" Sheppard finally asked as they moved back towards the docked Messenger.
"Do our job," Hull replied. "And hope that we actually encounter a few pirates. I negotiated salvage rights of sixty percent of everything we get tonnage wise. I'd hate for us to have good salvage rights and not get to utilize them."
"Right," Sheppard nodded. "To be honest, it's going to be weird to have to negotiate for salvage now. Most of us would have had priority over salvage rights back when we were in the March Militia or AFFS."
"House units do tend to get priority," Hull smirked. "But, newer and smaller units get to have a little bit of leeway in regards to salvage. Partially because they don't actually expect us to contribute all that much to taking any enemy units down."
"And you're only allowed salvage from battles that you actually participated in," it clicked in Sheppard's brain. "So, Salvage rights. I assume there are other clauses included in the contracts?"
"Well, yes and no," Hull began. "I'll show you how the MRB helped me work things out, I kept notes."
Date: May 29, 3002
Location: Camadierre, Taurian Concordat
"Unfortunately, we weren't able to reserve the warehouses that you requested the first time," the Concordat Liaison apologized. "Taurus Majoris Mining had an influx of metals and outbid the lease on said warehouses."
"That's fine," I sighed. "I'll see what I can dig up around here."
"Look," the woman glanced around. "I don't have a problem with you, but a lot of civilians are likely to be a little belligerent at first. A lot of y'all are from the Fedsuns, and there's a lot of bad blood there."
"We're just here to keep pirates at bay and collect a paycheck, Cornet," I replied. "We'll keep things on the up and up."
"That's good to hear," she smiled. "Camadierre is normally fairly safe, but pirates seem to grow every year and TMM has been raising hell in the governmental hearings. So, you're going to be an independent lance attached to the vehicle battalion that's stationed here."
"No 'mech support here?" I asked.
"Not enough to cover everything," she shook her head. "The vics are mostly heavies, so we can't quite manage to move to take out pirates before they attack. And any other mercs were directly hired by TMM."
"And we were hired by the Concordat directly," I replied. "So we're here to pin down any pirates that land, and ensure the civilians are safe."
"Right," she nodded. "Unfortunately, I haven't been assigned a 'mech at the moment, so I'm not going to be able to liaison with you directly when you're out in the field, but I'm perfectly willing to ride in a jump seat if I need to."
"Keeping an eye on the Fedrat mercs?" I chuckled.
"Something like that," she joined in. "Just trying to make sure that everything is done properly."
"Alright then," I finally stopped walking. "Thank you for your assistance Cornet Taegan," I shook her hand. "I'll be in touch once I get my people settled down and we'll get the patrol routes set and ready to work through."
"You as well, Captain Hull," She firmly shook my hand back. "I look forward to working with you."
"I told you we'd have issues," Sheppard said as the unit all pitched in to build a handful of prefabricated structures for us to stay in. "The Taurians have issues with the Federated Suns."
"I'm hoping that we won't see a whole lot of issues in the future," I replied. "We kill some pirates and I'm sure they'll change their tune fairly quickly."
"Guess we'll find out, won't we?" Paige chimed in.
"It's a six month contract," I continued working. "I'm sure something will come up for us to fight."
"God willing," Sheppard agreed. "Either way, I want to be involved in any negotiations with TMM and Taurian Manufacturers. I'd love to get my hands on some Taurian vehicles if at all possible. Some Vedettes and SRM carriers would be a great place to start."
"Vedette's only use an Ack-five though," I replied. "Not a lot of damage there."
"You never have Vedettes or Scorpions working alone," Naomi spoke up. "They're supposed to operate in groups, one AC/5 isn't a lot, but five or six working in concert at maximum range isn't anything to sneeze at."
"Mix them in with some LRM carriers and you've got ranged options to punch holes in and then have SRM carriers hidden in the middle of the LRM carriers," Richard said from where he stretched, enjoying the newfound mobility now that he wasn't in a wheelchair. "The ack-fives worry the armor while the missiles help out. When they get close, you hammer with the SRMs and it shreds whatever's left."
"Works on 'mechs, tanks, anything that's willing to come against an armored company," Naomi agreed. "Ideally, you want to mix them in groups of six to eighteen. The AFFS doesn't let us experiment beyond the classroom and sims, but when we were allowed to test using eighteen instead of twelve allowed us a lot more flexibility."
"What do you mean?" I stopped what I was doing, to focus on what Naomi was saying.
"Well," Naomi glanced at Richard before he nodded in affirmation. "The modern day TO&E is based on the Lance, for better or for worse. But, we prefer six man groups," she grabbed some tools off the ground to use as a visual reference. "Right now, we don't have the vehicles or 'mechs to do more than a lance, so it makes sense to stay that way. But, if we shift to six man lances, fireteams, whatever we decide to call them, then we can be a bit more flexible. If, for example we use a base six, and then our company size is eighteen instead of twelve, we can heavily blend and use mixed formations, Six 'mechs, twelve vehicles, etc…"
"And, it allows us to do things like they were talking about with the Vedettes and Missile carriers on a different scale," Richard stated. "Back up each battalion with eighteen artillery pieces and you'll be able to hit any enemy formation hard enough that they'll have trouble getting back up."
"Right now we only have a lance of 'mechs and some infantry," Peterson stepped forward. "But, as we mix formations, we're going to want to have infantry assigned to each company. I'd like to have some jump infantry, but we'll work our way up to it."
"This tactical discussion's fuckin' well and good!" Packer yelled from where he was putting up a wall with his group of infantrymen and women. "But I'd like to sleep inside of an actual barracks tonight!"
"Right," I stood up from where I had been kneeling. "Back to it I guess."
Author's note: And this is where the base Six-man Fireteam that the Marksman used in the original came from.
Chapter 32
MarkWarrior
Well-known member
Chapter 32
Location: Camadierre, Taurian Concordat
Date: July 5, 3002
I climbed down from the gantry and into my 'Hammer, giving a thumbs up to McAllister as I did so, the mechtech giving me the signal to go ahead and go through the power-up cycle.
Sitting in the chair, I hooked the cooling vest to the correct lines and strapped myself in, inspecting the five-point harness for wear and damage before powering on the display in front of me.
"Voice confirmation required," Betty informed me.
"There is a longing for days of the past," I spoke.
"And for the days of yonder lore," Betty responded.
"But nothing will ever be as it was before," I finished, the 'mech's displays falling silent as I typed in a six-digit numerical code.
"Reactor Online, sensors online, weapons online, all systems nominal," Betty's voice resounded through the cockpit as the displays flickered on and the reactor purred beneath me.
"This is lead, sound off," I moved slowly through the hanger, the doors opening for me to exit.
"Copy lead," Sheppard was waiting for me in his Mongoose, Mckay, in her Crab, and Erika Lamb in the Griffin. "Rifle 2 is ready op."
"Rifle 3, ready op," Mckay replied.
"This is Rifle 4 green across the board," Lamb's Griffin seemed to shrug.
"Alright people, we've got to move it," I dropped a navigation point on the topographical maps we were synchronized to. "Cornet Taegan will finish the briefing."
"This is Cornet Taegan, can you hear me?"
"Five by Five," I replied.
"Good," the Taurian officer exhaled. "Captain Hull, it's time you and yours earned your paychecks, we've got a Pirate Union or Danais on approach for landing in the designated area. We managed to knock out their ASF escorts, so they're not going to be able to take off without taking damage. We need you to push them back and away, the last thing we want is for them to take over a TMM warehouse or kidnap some Taurian Citizens."
"You heard the lady!" I barked. "We've got some pirates to deal with, Peterson, you and your Infantry need to mount up. I want that dropship intact."
"Copy that," Peterson climbed into one of the Maxims that we had acquired over the last few months. "Naomi, punch it!"
"It'll take us a couple of hours to reach the enemy LZ," I looked at the route marked out. "But we've got better maps, and we've been training in that area. So we know the surroundings and the best places to launch ambushes."
"We need options, people," Sheppard's Beagle Active Probe began linking the computers of the 'mechs and vehicles that we possessed.
"Cornet, do we happen to have any satellites passing overhead?" Peterson asked.
"I can see about getting you access," Taegan replied. "I'm not on the list of authorized personnel who are aware of what we have in orbit."
"If you can get us access or a flyover with the location of the dropship we can move to engage a lot easier," Sheppard moved ahead at range. "Even an ASF or conventional aircraft would help us scout it out a bit easier."
"I'll see what I can get," Taegan hummed. "No promises though."
"We've got a positive ID on where the enemy Union is," I stabbed a finger down on the map laid out across a table. "Right here. It's a plateau surrounded by rolling hills, there's a lot of cover for them to hide in as they try to move towards the cities, but there's also plenty of ways for us to sneak up on them."
"Maxims'll work for a good pit," Peterson considered the map. "But we're going to have to stop a klick or so out and approach on foot, otherwise we'll show up on sensors."
"And two Maxim's will be dead if they get within weapons range," Sheppard agreed, his neurohelmet in his hand. "Captain, I think our lance needs to play bait."
"Neg," I considered the map. "I'm going to be the big target here. I'm in a heavy, and if they're pirates, they likely only have a handful of 'mechs at best. I'll be the one they want to bring down."
"That'll be a lot of heat, boss," Sheppard considered the map. "You'll have to pull them for a bit before we can ambush 'em."
"I've got the armor to tank it if necessary," I replied. "But I'll be counting on your Active Probe to hide the rest of the lance until you're able to flank."
"Alright," Sheppard nodded. "We'll need to find a good spot to draw them to."
"I'll be the bait and the anvil," I looked at the group. "I need you guys to be the 'hammer."
"You can do better than that," Packer mock-glared. "I've come up with better puns in my fuckin' sleep."
"When you're in charge of the unit, you can make all of the bad puns you want," I chuckled at myself. "Until then, load up. We've got a job to do."
–
–
"Sheppard, I've got a Bugmech and a Blackjack," I stayed out of range of the medium lasers of the Cicada and narrowly dodged a burst of autocannon fire. "And a shit-ton of Missile boats."
"Copy that. Circling, ETA is two Mikes. Try to stay alive, lead."
"I'll be fine as long as you take out the missile boats," I replied as I snap-fired a PPC at the Cicada as it drew closer, the man-made lightning scraping by the shoulder of the bugmech and driving it further back. "But if these 'mechs get to share targeting data," I trailed off as I shifted behind a hill and crouched underneath a swarm of ack-two fire before breaking off into a run again.
Turning around, I stood firm as the Cicada stepped into my crosshairs, the 'mech had moved too fast and slid to a stop as my medium lasers lashed out with my SRMs, the lasers melting holes into the lightly-armored 'mech as my missiles punched through and savaged the gyro, sending the light 'mech crashing to the ground as the gyro seized and the momentum carried the 'mech forward.
"Tango down," I muttered as I turned my attention to the Blackjack, its autocannon pinging against my armor and taking very small chunks off at a time, the medium backing as far off as possible, keeping just out of range of my PPCs, its jump jets ferrying it over the hill for a moment as one of my PPCs narrowly flies over its cockpit. "Cicada's location is marked for salvage, engaging the Blackjack now."
"Missile boats are down," Sheppard breathed into his mic. "Fuckers had loaded some of them with Rocket Launchers, Lamb's Griffin is armor state red in a few places, but aside from that we managed to take 'em out. Even captured a handful of LRM boats."
"Good, I'll need you and Mckay to pin the Blackjack down, he's trying to plink me to death over here."
"I'll swing around and flank," Sheppard replied. "I'm not leaving Lamb alone while she's that low on armor."
"Wait one," I sniped at the 'mech as it tried to evade me again, my PPC cracking and melting the armor next to his cockpit, the damage causing it to lose control of the jump jets and hurtle face first into the ground. "Blackjack is down, now all that's left is to see how Peterson's group does."
"Alright, no comms from here out," Peterson disembarked from the hover APC. "We've got to make the rest of the trip on foot."
"I'm glad this place is full of ferrokinetic metals," Packer looked at the CO of the infantry company. "Otherwise we'd be an easy target to pick out."
"Two to three klicks ain't that far," Naomi leaned against her vehicle. "They might have still picked us up on thermals. Magscan's notoriously unreliable on mining worlds."
"We'll be cautious," Peterson let his rifle dangle from the sling in front of his vest. "Packer, make sure everyone's got water."
"Yessir," Packer went through each squad and checked their water supplies before grouping them up to head out.
"Now let's get moving, I want our snipers to see if there's any places along the ridgeline that we can get access to."
The company started jogging toward the Union in the distance, the nearby trees and brush concealing their movements as they moved ever closer.
"Hold," Packer signaled the group as he and Peterson peered through some binoculars. "Packer, I mark two squads out here, and some emplaced guns."
"Handful of half-tracks and a Scorpion or two," Packer replied. "If we manage to sneak up on them we should be able to capture the Vics."
"Let's hope," Peterson tucked the glass away and began moving again, the rest of the company following quietly behind, it was time to see if they could take a Dropship."
Location: Camadierre, Taurian Concordat
Date: July 5, 3002
I climbed down from the gantry and into my 'Hammer, giving a thumbs up to McAllister as I did so, the mechtech giving me the signal to go ahead and go through the power-up cycle.
Sitting in the chair, I hooked the cooling vest to the correct lines and strapped myself in, inspecting the five-point harness for wear and damage before powering on the display in front of me.
"Voice confirmation required," Betty informed me.
"There is a longing for days of the past," I spoke.
"And for the days of yonder lore," Betty responded.
"But nothing will ever be as it was before," I finished, the 'mech's displays falling silent as I typed in a six-digit numerical code.
"Reactor Online, sensors online, weapons online, all systems nominal," Betty's voice resounded through the cockpit as the displays flickered on and the reactor purred beneath me.
"This is lead, sound off," I moved slowly through the hanger, the doors opening for me to exit.
"Copy lead," Sheppard was waiting for me in his Mongoose, Mckay, in her Crab, and Erika Lamb in the Griffin. "Rifle 2 is ready op."
"Rifle 3, ready op," Mckay replied.
"This is Rifle 4 green across the board," Lamb's Griffin seemed to shrug.
"Alright people, we've got to move it," I dropped a navigation point on the topographical maps we were synchronized to. "Cornet Taegan will finish the briefing."
"This is Cornet Taegan, can you hear me?"
"Five by Five," I replied.
"Good," the Taurian officer exhaled. "Captain Hull, it's time you and yours earned your paychecks, we've got a Pirate Union or Danais on approach for landing in the designated area. We managed to knock out their ASF escorts, so they're not going to be able to take off without taking damage. We need you to push them back and away, the last thing we want is for them to take over a TMM warehouse or kidnap some Taurian Citizens."
"You heard the lady!" I barked. "We've got some pirates to deal with, Peterson, you and your Infantry need to mount up. I want that dropship intact."
"Copy that," Peterson climbed into one of the Maxims that we had acquired over the last few months. "Naomi, punch it!"
"It'll take us a couple of hours to reach the enemy LZ," I looked at the route marked out. "But we've got better maps, and we've been training in that area. So we know the surroundings and the best places to launch ambushes."
"We need options, people," Sheppard's Beagle Active Probe began linking the computers of the 'mechs and vehicles that we possessed.
"Cornet, do we happen to have any satellites passing overhead?" Peterson asked.
"I can see about getting you access," Taegan replied. "I'm not on the list of authorized personnel who are aware of what we have in orbit."
"If you can get us access or a flyover with the location of the dropship we can move to engage a lot easier," Sheppard moved ahead at range. "Even an ASF or conventional aircraft would help us scout it out a bit easier."
"I'll see what I can get," Taegan hummed. "No promises though."
"We've got a positive ID on where the enemy Union is," I stabbed a finger down on the map laid out across a table. "Right here. It's a plateau surrounded by rolling hills, there's a lot of cover for them to hide in as they try to move towards the cities, but there's also plenty of ways for us to sneak up on them."
"Maxims'll work for a good pit," Peterson considered the map. "But we're going to have to stop a klick or so out and approach on foot, otherwise we'll show up on sensors."
"And two Maxim's will be dead if they get within weapons range," Sheppard agreed, his neurohelmet in his hand. "Captain, I think our lance needs to play bait."
"Neg," I considered the map. "I'm going to be the big target here. I'm in a heavy, and if they're pirates, they likely only have a handful of 'mechs at best. I'll be the one they want to bring down."
"That'll be a lot of heat, boss," Sheppard considered the map. "You'll have to pull them for a bit before we can ambush 'em."
"I've got the armor to tank it if necessary," I replied. "But I'll be counting on your Active Probe to hide the rest of the lance until you're able to flank."
"Alright," Sheppard nodded. "We'll need to find a good spot to draw them to."
"I'll be the bait and the anvil," I looked at the group. "I need you guys to be the 'hammer."
"You can do better than that," Packer mock-glared. "I've come up with better puns in my fuckin' sleep."
"When you're in charge of the unit, you can make all of the bad puns you want," I chuckled at myself. "Until then, load up. We've got a job to do."
–
–
"Sheppard, I've got a Bugmech and a Blackjack," I stayed out of range of the medium lasers of the Cicada and narrowly dodged a burst of autocannon fire. "And a shit-ton of Missile boats."
"Copy that. Circling, ETA is two Mikes. Try to stay alive, lead."
"I'll be fine as long as you take out the missile boats," I replied as I snap-fired a PPC at the Cicada as it drew closer, the man-made lightning scraping by the shoulder of the bugmech and driving it further back. "But if these 'mechs get to share targeting data," I trailed off as I shifted behind a hill and crouched underneath a swarm of ack-two fire before breaking off into a run again.
Turning around, I stood firm as the Cicada stepped into my crosshairs, the 'mech had moved too fast and slid to a stop as my medium lasers lashed out with my SRMs, the lasers melting holes into the lightly-armored 'mech as my missiles punched through and savaged the gyro, sending the light 'mech crashing to the ground as the gyro seized and the momentum carried the 'mech forward.
"Tango down," I muttered as I turned my attention to the Blackjack, its autocannon pinging against my armor and taking very small chunks off at a time, the medium backing as far off as possible, keeping just out of range of my PPCs, its jump jets ferrying it over the hill for a moment as one of my PPCs narrowly flies over its cockpit. "Cicada's location is marked for salvage, engaging the Blackjack now."
"Missile boats are down," Sheppard breathed into his mic. "Fuckers had loaded some of them with Rocket Launchers, Lamb's Griffin is armor state red in a few places, but aside from that we managed to take 'em out. Even captured a handful of LRM boats."
"Good, I'll need you and Mckay to pin the Blackjack down, he's trying to plink me to death over here."
"I'll swing around and flank," Sheppard replied. "I'm not leaving Lamb alone while she's that low on armor."
"Wait one," I sniped at the 'mech as it tried to evade me again, my PPC cracking and melting the armor next to his cockpit, the damage causing it to lose control of the jump jets and hurtle face first into the ground. "Blackjack is down, now all that's left is to see how Peterson's group does."
"Alright, no comms from here out," Peterson disembarked from the hover APC. "We've got to make the rest of the trip on foot."
"I'm glad this place is full of ferrokinetic metals," Packer looked at the CO of the infantry company. "Otherwise we'd be an easy target to pick out."
"Two to three klicks ain't that far," Naomi leaned against her vehicle. "They might have still picked us up on thermals. Magscan's notoriously unreliable on mining worlds."
"We'll be cautious," Peterson let his rifle dangle from the sling in front of his vest. "Packer, make sure everyone's got water."
"Yessir," Packer went through each squad and checked their water supplies before grouping them up to head out.
"Now let's get moving, I want our snipers to see if there's any places along the ridgeline that we can get access to."
The company started jogging toward the Union in the distance, the nearby trees and brush concealing their movements as they moved ever closer.
"Hold," Packer signaled the group as he and Peterson peered through some binoculars. "Packer, I mark two squads out here, and some emplaced guns."
"Handful of half-tracks and a Scorpion or two," Packer replied. "If we manage to sneak up on them we should be able to capture the Vics."
"Let's hope," Peterson tucked the glass away and began moving again, the rest of the company following quietly behind, it was time to see if they could take a Dropship."