Blood on the Horizon (Reimagined)

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Chapter 33
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    With a short click of the radio, Peterson commanded the snipers they had concealed around the ridge to begin picking off the patrols that secured the perimeter of the pirate’s landing site.

    “Let’s move,” Packer grunted at the men and women under his command, the fireteams in his squad moving through the underbrush to get closer to the Union.

    “Sergeant,” Jenkins motioned the man over. “The Scorpions are unmanned right now. if we take them, we can get the rest in line.”

    “Alpha, You’re to take the tanks. Bravo, I want you to take out the technicals,” Packer ordered. “Charlie, we’re taking the Union, I do not want any of that firepower concentrated on us or our men.”

    The squad pushed further inside the pirate’s perimeter, knowing that the rest of the platoon was moving alongside them as they finally entered the open area.

    The Union had ignited some of the brush and trees when it landed, with the burnt-out husks of the plants remaining behind and giving no cover for the last few hundred meters.

    Time itself seemed to slow as the squad crawled through the blackened dirt, moving as slowly as humanly possible to avoid being seen on their approach. No words were spoken, only the sound of the pirates and distant echoes of the fight between the combat vehicles and ‘mechs tore into the quiet of the soldier’s own breathing.

    Five minutes passed, then ten, the soldiers continued crawling, breaking off into smaller groups of two and three as they moved to their different objectives, the soot and ash on their uniforms assisting with concealing their movements.

    Then, they reached their destination, Packer’s immediate squad stood up and rushed into the bay of the Union, their weapons barking as they pushed inside.

    “Go go go!” Jenkins ordered his squad as he ran up to the side of a Scorpion, boosting his battle buddy up and onto the unnecessarily spiked twenty-five-ton tank before being pulled up after him. “Open that hatch!”

    The two popped open the hatch and dove into the tank, quickly hitting the ignition switch on the ICE engine and turning the turret as it roared to life, focusing on suppressing those who were engaged with the rest of the infantry.

    “Jenkins, we’ve secured the second Vic. Bravo’s pinned down by the technicals though.”

    “Then we burn them,” Jenkins replied, shifting the turret over to the trucks with heavy machine guns mounted on them, pulling the trigger on the ack-five and watching as the round eliminated two of the eight trucks.

    “This is Lieutenant Peterson of the Marksman Mercenary Company under the direct employ of the Taurian Concordat. If you surrender now, I guarantee that you will all receive a fair trial. If you resist, we mow you down where you stand, choice is yours.”

    “Update our IFF,” Jenkins barked. “We’re not having a blue-on-blue incident today!”

    “We’ll be sitting ducks while I update the IFF,” the other man replied.

    “You let me worry about that,” Jenkins fired the main cannon again as the autoloader finished slotting another round into the barrel, wiping out the rest of the technicals with help from the other captured pirate tank.

    “Union’s ours!” the comms device tucked into Jenkins’ ear murmured. “Get the Captain on the horn, we need medics and the rest of the unit to maintain security.

    “Copy that sir,” Jenkins replied. “We’re mopping up the rest of the pirates out here now.”






    Packer ran up the ramp into the loading bay of the Union, his fireteam behind him as they began eliminating pirates.

    “We’ve got to get to the bridge ASAP,” Packer fired a burst from his weapon into a pirate, blood splattering the wall behind him. “We can’t let them power up the weapons or the rest of us will be wiped out.”

    “Sergeant, there’s a Manticore parked here!”

    “Fuck,” Packer exhaled. “Two of you stay put and secure that Vic, the rest of us will push up.”

    The two specialists detached themselves from the fireteam and locked down the heavy tank as the remaining six continued further into the dropship.

    The fireteam left the loading bay and stacked up by the door leading to the next room, a sharp nod indicated that they needed to breach and clear.

    “No hostiles!” The first man reported after he’d cleared the narrow room. “Pirates and slavers!” he spat on the ground.

    “Doc, you stay here,” Packer pointedly didn’t look at the slaves and captured civilians, knowing that if he looked at them he’d lose all sense of professionalism. “We’ll come back and secure the civvies.”

    “Yes, Sergeant!” the medic pulled out his medbag and began immediate first aid on some of the wounded.

    The rest of the dropship was barely lit and ill-maintained, with broken light fixtures and ripped-up pieces of metal where the pirates had slapdashed conduit repairs.

    “Bridge is up next, sergeant,” Rook reported as he stood next to the door. “Five quid says the captain’s in there.”

    “No bet,” Packer pulled out a flashbang before nodding at the other soldier. “Fire in the hole!”

    The flashbang went off, nearly deafening the soldiers in the internal spaces of the Union, the pirates stumbled around the bridge as they tried to recover from the concussive force.

    Rook was first in the room, and eyeballing a gaudily dressed man, he tackled him, pinning him and throwing some restraints on him before shifting his attention to the next target as the remainder of the fireteam breached the room, swiftly eliminating the bridge crew before Packer motioned for Rook to man the communications console.

    “This is Lieutenant Peterson of the Marksman Mercenary Company under the direct employ of the Taurian Concordat. If you surrender now, I guarantee that you will all receive a fair trial. If you resist, we mow you down where you stand, choice is yours.”

    “Union’s ours,” Packer reported. “LT, get the captain on the horn, we need medics and the rest of the unit to maintain security!”

    “Copy that Sergeant, good work. We managed to take out a lance of Condors that were acting as LRRP. The Salvage today will be sweet!”

    “Yessir,” Packer replied. “We’ve got civvies onboard. Look like captured from the pirate’s last raids.”

    “I’ll get the medics to you ASAP,” Peterson sighed. “I knew this had gone too well.”

    “Saint Murphy always has to have a hand in things,” Packer shrugged. “The good, and the bad.”
     
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    "Cornet Taegan," I greeted the Concordat Liaison with a nod from where I was helping hook up a cable to the Blackjack that I had downed. "Nice to see you here in the field."

    "Lot of salvage you've got here," she pointedly looked at the Blackjack.

    "Yup," I enunciated the 'P' as I secured the hook and went to the winch, hitting the button that powered on the generator, a massive groan echoing and blocking out all sound as the fifty-ton 'Mech was dragged up and onto the trailer. "I figured we'd negotiate that after we finished actually sorting through everything."

    "Right,' she nodded. "We'll work on that after we debrief."

    "It's gonna be a while," I looked up at where my 'Hammer was parked nearby. "We've got a lot to get done."

    "I'm actually here to help out where I can," she rolled up the sleeves of her working uniform. "Point me in the direction that you need me, Captain."

    "There's another truck working on a Cicada over there," I waved in the general direction. "You can see if they need any help. Or, if you're just looking for something to stave off the paperwork, we're still figuring out what's good to salvage from the LRM boats we messed up."

    "Where are you headed next?"

    "I'm hopping in my 'Hammer to head to the Union," I stretched and turned my neck to one side, sighing in relief as my neck and back popped. "We managed to capture the captain of this band and I want to look at the computer banks. I'm hoping that we managed to get some good intel."

    "I'll ride along," Taegan followed me to the crouched heavy 'Mech. "Looks like you took some hits though," she pointed out several slagged and charred armor plates along the torso.

    "Yeah," I boosted the shorter woman up so she could reach the ladder. "You already saw the other guys," I grabbed the bottom of the ladder and began climbing up after her until we reached the shoulder of the 'Mech, where she moved to the side while I opened the hatch with a quickly entered code.

    "Sorry for the mess," I stowed my carbine before opening a small footlocker and grabbing an extra cooling vest. "Here," I passed the vest to the Taurian now in standard Mechwarrior kit. "You're going to want this."

    "Thanks," she pulled the vest over her sports bra. "Hopefully it won't get too hot in here."

    "I don't plan on having to cook anything for the rest of the day," I began powering on the 'Mech, bringing it out of standby mode and sealing the hatch behind me. "But it's better safe than sorry."






    "The fuck happened here?" Taegan looked around the corridors of the massive dropship as she stepped out of the cargo bay and into the halls.

    "I swear," Peterson grinned as he walked towards us. "It was like this when I found it."

    "Knowing maintenance," I laughed. "I bet the pirates were holding this thing together with tape and spitshine."

    "That's more accurate than you know," Peterson sobered up. "Cornet, we managed to free several slaves, but aside from one or two that wanted to join us, most of them hail from the Concordat. Any chance you can help them find their families?"

    "I'll make sure they get to the right place," She nodded. "Now, why the hell does the interior look this fucked up?"

    "Not a clue," the Lieutenant shrugged. "If I knew, I wouldn't be working for you, I'd be doing cushy work with MIIO."

    "Fair enough," Taegan knelt and poked at an exposed conduit. "This can't be safe."

    "Reactor's mostly shut down," a technician stepped through. "It's safe for traffic until power's routed through here."

    "The Concordat's going to want the Union," Taegan sighed as she stood up. "Even with how ill-maintained it is."

    "You can take it," I snorted. "I'm supposed to get 60% of all tonnage seized. That means I get to keep everything else. 'Sides, I'm not willing to pay the repair fees on this thing. I've got lift for the salvage we took, I don't need more right now."

    "Right," the Cornet followed me as I headed towards the bridge. "I take it you're going to rip what you can from the databanks?"

    "I'm hoping that they left data on their meeting places and times," I replied. "If they did, I'd like to go on the offensive, maybe capture the jumpships this band is using."

    "Heh," she laughed. "If you manage that, I'm pretty sure the Concordat might try to use that contract extension clause."

    "Guess we'll have to see," I stepped onto the bridge and looked around. "It looks like this area's relatively intact, so maybe there's a chance of success."

    "We would like more intel on pirate locations. Would help us with keeping them out of our space," Taegan watched as I began moving up and speaking with the techs.

    "I'm sure that you're going to have your own people going over it," I looked up from a keyboard that I was typing away on. "But I'll give you the preliminary data once I have it."

    "Well, looks like I've got to go deliver bad news then," the Liaison snarked. "Oh no, we don't get to keep the 'Mechs or vehicles."

    "I'm keeping that Manticore no matter what," I looked her in the eye. "Even if I do have to repair or replace the Fusion engine."

    "I'm sure I can find you a two-forty on the markets," she smiled. "Now, if the busy work is done, I'd like to meet this pirate 'Captain'. I'm sure there's a fount of information to be gained from him."





    Location: Camadierre, Taurian Concordat
    Date: July 10, 3002

    "Cornet," I greeted the officer as I entered her office. "I heard you needed to meet with me?"

    "Take a seat, Captain," the woman went completely professional from the playful soldier of the other day. "I've got instruction from the powers that be."

    After I had taken a seat, she slid an enclosed letter to me before leaning back in her chair and allowing me to peruse the contents.

    "Okay," I said as I set the letter down. "But why? You guys have forces of your own that specialize in that sort of combat operations."

    "They'll take too long to get here," she frowned. "But they're offering a renegotiation of the contract if you're successful," she handed me the new contract.

    "Damn," I whistled. "That's a shit-ton of C-Bills."

    "Aye," she nodded. "And should you manage to capture more than one jumpship we'll allow you to lease one of them at cost until you can acquire a replacement."

    "I want first refusal on any dropships we find," I looked over the rest of the doctored contract. "And I want that to include if we go on the offensive at the Pirate's base."

    "I'll take it to my superiors," she agreed. "I'll have a response in a few days."

    "Let's hope that we find a good compromise here," I smiled. "Thank you, It's always a pleasure."

    "Indeed, Captain," she stood and shook my hand. "I'll be in touch."

    Standing up, I left the room with a spring in my step. After all, the fiercer the foe, the sweeter the salvage.
     
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    Date: July 12, 3002
    Location: Camadeierre, Taurian Concordat

    "What do you need me to do?" I asked Paige as she and her company of Marines began suiting up and loading their weapons.

    "Respectfully, Sir," Paige looked me dead in the eye, a helmet in her hand. "I need you to stay the fuck outta our way. All of my people are Zero-G certified. You're not, and unless you've trained with us specifically I don't want you anywhere near this. You groundpounders have your job. Now let us do ours."

    "I'm at least going to be on the King Henry," I replied. "I'm the CO, I can't ask you to do something if I'm not willing to be there too."

    "You're going to stay here," Paige picked up the rifle and slung it behind her back, taking some magazines and slotting them into maglocked pouches. "We all know that you're willing to go up into the void with us. But you need to learn something about command."

    "And what's that?" I asked, my fists balled angrily into fists.

    "That delegation is important, and probably the only superpower that really exists," she counted off her fingers. "That you can rely on the people who you found and hired to do their jobs the right way, and finally, that micromanagement leads to a lot of bad policy decisions. Leadership always starts at the top and trickles downward, how you lead will always impact those at the bottom. We respect that you want to be an active part of every operation, but sometimes, it's best to just leave us to do our part. We've got the training, we're zero-g certified. So, let us do the jobs you're paying us for, and don't worry so much."

    "Captain, you're new to all of this, and I have high hopes for you to be a great CO. But don't get bogged down like this or you'll end up with just another broken merc unit whose assets got sold off to the highest bidder to pay for debts."

    She secured her helmet and nodded at her Marines, the men and women leaving me behind as the dropship's loading bay raise and sealed it shut, the fusion torches igniting and sending the aerodyne down the runway, the Buccaneer disappearing into the horizon.

    "Godspeed," I said as I looked at the light from the dropship slowly disappearing. "Godspeed."





    Date: July 20, 3002
    Location: Unknown System one jump from Camadeiere


    "We read two Jumpships within boarding range," Paige looked at the pilot of her boarding shuttle. "What are we working with, here?"

    "Looks like a Tramp and a Merchant," the pilot reported. "Captain Frye's designated entry points for us already."

    "Copy that," the Lieutenant turned to look at the platoon. "Mathis, you have point," the massive man nodded, his rifle looking small next to his frame.

    "I'm on bullet sponge duty, copy that, ma'am," he grinned underneath the sealed helmet. "Do you want any of them alive for interrogation, or am I free to cut loose?"

    "If you can identify a VIP, then try to take them alive," Paige instructed. "But if it comes down to it, I'd rather not have to write any letters today. Don't take unnecessary risks, don't go home in a bag, understood?"

    "Yes, ma'am!" the shuttle roared.

    "Now, once we get there we're to take both Jumpships and hold them until our resident tech expert can take a look at their astrogation systems, he's on loan from Peterson, so make sure to give him some shit for me. "

    –
    –

    The shuttle rotated until its 'mouth' faced the pirate Jumpship, a series of specially built electromagnets ensuring that they were pulled into and connected to the Tramp. Then, a specially designed section created a seal with the external door, an airlock unopened to the void while a set of automatic plasma torches began doing their work.

    This was where things were most likely to go wrong. The marines had no intel on how charged the K-F drives were, nothing on what kind of resistance they would be facing, and there was always a chance that the seal would fail in the middle of the cutting process and they would accidentally vent the jumpship before they were able to board. Sending their shuttle hurtling into the void.

    So the platoon collectively held their breath as minute after minute went by while the cutting tool slowly worked its way around, eventually stopping as a small battering ram slammed down out of the ceiling and threw the circle into the enemy ship.

    "Airlock's pressurized," the pilot tapped a few switches above him. "If you're going to board, then you should do so now, I can't tell you how long our seals will hold."

    Mathis pulled the manual switch on the airlock's doors, the hiss muted by the sound of blaring alarms from within the enemy Tramp.

    Pausing for a minute, the large man took a deep breath before stepping through the hole, finding himself in a poorly lit corridor, the only lighting available was the red glow of emergency lighting and there were places where armored panels had been placed as cover.

    Holding his ground, Mathis waited until two more marines had stepped onto the dropship and were ready, then with a sharp nod, he pushed forward, his large size belying his speed as he fired a burst and gunned down one of the pirates before they could react.

    Then the rest of the marines poured into the opening he had created, their armored suits absorbing few hits without issues as they split up and began clearing the jumpship room by room.

    The darkness of the Jumpship did little to help the pirates, in fact, it enabled the marines to push faster then they had planned on, and soon they had taken the bridge and the engine room, securing the captain and a few engineers with little to no trouble.

    "King Henry, this is Paige, Jumpship one is secure, I repeat, Jumpship one is secure."

    "Good work, Lieutenant. We've got repair techs ready to ship out if you need 'em," Frye replied. "I can send the Vagabond over whenever you're ready."

    "We'll need some of those repairs," Paige glanced around the engine room. "I think they ruptured a few Helium seals and overloaded their reactors trying to hot-charge."

    "Dead in the water?" Frye asked.

    "That's an affirmative," the Lieutenant laughed. "We're stuck with emergency lighting for now."

    "Sending the Vagabond over now," the Jumpship captain replied. "Try to keep the ship locked down until they get there."

    "Wilco. We'll keep the air clean for ya!"

    Author's Note: Going to end it here. I may have inhaled too much smoke at a bonfire last night and am now suffering the consequences. Head hurts, hard to breath, the whole nine yards. I'd keep going on the chapter, but it was a struggle to put this on paper today.
     
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    Date: July 21, 3002
    Location: Unknown System one jump from Camadeiere


    "Well, it looks like we're getting that bonus, after all," Paige grinned as she looked at the repairs that her Marines were making to both the Merchant and Tramp Jumpships. "Good work Marines. Once we're finished up with these repairs we'll jump back to Camadeiere, then we'll get some R&R and let the techs finish going over the astrogation logs."

    A chorus of 'Aye/yes ma'ams' followed as the crayon eaters continued welding the patch on where their Small craft had created a breach. Other marines floating into the K-F Drive area to triple check Helium seals and any other potential problems.

    "A shame we've got to give one of these up," Mathis sighed as he stepped up next to his CO.

    "Don't I know it," she sighed. "But I think the Captain's making the right choice here."

    "You sure?" the old ELH member asked. "Because a Jumpship ain't a small thing."

    "We don't have the dropships to outfit and use it right now," Paige shrugged. "And we're going to be allowed to use the Merchant as long as we maintain it until we find another Jumpship. Get to take the crews with us as well."

    "So we're not losing out in the long term," Mathis nodded. "It just feels like it in the short term."

    "It's also a bunch of goodwill generated," a tech pointed out as he slid out from underneath a nearby terminal, the screen finally lighting up as power was restored. "The Concordat's always been in need of jumpships. Us being willing to give up not just one, but two as salvage means that we're pretty much going to be able to negotiate some really fucking good contracts later. And we'll be able to work on beefing up some of the areas that we lack in."

    "And that's all stuff we can work on later. That's enough woolgathering for the moment. We've still got work to do before we jump this thing out of the system."






    Date: August 6, 3002
    Location: Aboard King Henry V, Camadeiere zenith point, Taurian Concordat

    "So, we're certain that this is where they're at?" I asked the techs and astrogation personnel.

    "It's the only spot that they've consistently been present at in the last decade," Captain Frye smirked. "And we've got both of their jumpships here. If you can wrangle the ASFs we'll need, we can take out the closest pirates in the area."

    "I'll see wat I can wring out of the local forces," I glanced at the comms terminal. "We might be here for another week or so before we're able to hit them though."

    "We can afford to wait," Sheppard looked at me. "Cornet Taegan's onboard, we just need to see what she can shake loose in supporting elements."

    "Or," Peterson interrupted. "I think I remember reading something about an ASF squadron or two that's contracts were about to be up," Peterson reached for a copy of the local merc units he'd purchased from the MRB earlier. "Yeah," he opened it to a specific page and read it out loud to the rest of us command staff. "Says here that Wardog and Hitman Squadrons are going to be up for contract renegotiations by the end of the month."

    "Mind if I take a look?" I glanced around.

    "Be my guest," Peterson handed it to me.

    "They're currently understrength," I remarked. "Looks like they're down four birds."

    "So we'd have eight instead of twelve on our way in," Sheppard sighed. "It's still better than nothing. What've they got for transport?"

    "Two Leopard CVs," I remarked. "So we'll have to use the Merchant if we want to transport them."

    "The question becomes," Sheppard ran a hand through his hair. "Can we afford to wait?"

    "I think we can," Peterson remarked. "They're not expecting their jumpships back anytime soon from what we pulled outta the databanks. And their primary base is a few jumps out anyway. They probably thought their outriders would hit quite a few places before heading back home to divvy up the loot."

    "Alright," I glanced around. "We all agree that this is the best plan?"

    "Yes," Jewel said as she finally turned her attention away from commanding the dropship for a moment. "We need the escorts. Frankly, I'm surprised that we didn't encounter any enemy fighters as of yet."

    "Thank God for the small miracles," Sheppard smiled. "We've got the opportunity now. And we've got the cash to hire them on."

    "Will they let us absorb them into our unit though?" I asked. "They seem to be doing well for themselves."

    "ASF go through funds just as much as we do," Sheppard shook his head. "And they've got a much higher attrition rate. If we negotiate well enough, they should be happy to come onboard. Even if it's as an independent command at first."

    "Then I'm going to need someone more experienced in this side of things to come with," I looked around. "Jewel, you up to the task?"

    "I should be able to free up some time from my busy schedule," she rolled her eyes. "Just don't expect me to wow them or anything."

    "We should write out negotiating points first," Peterson stated. "Decide on where we're flexible and where we can't be."

    "As well as how salvage and other contracts will be handled," Sheppard agreed.

    I pulled out a notebook began writing notes down, setting it down on the table so they could see me writing down the ideas and thoughts they had.

    "First, we'll need to sort out payment…"






    Date: September 1, 3002
    Location: Camadeiere B-Class HPG Station, Taurian Concordat

    "Major Aiden Gray," I stood up and shook the hand of the redhead, his blue eyes and blond eyebrows creating an odd picture to look at.

    "Captain Mark Hull," he replied. "That was good work with the pirates earlier this year. It's a shame I was on the far side, otherwise I might have been able to assist. Now, I'm a soldier, you're a soldier. Let's cut out the bullshit and get down to the brass tacks," he sat down and gestured for me to do the same. "Our contract's up, and the Concordat hasn't responded to any of my messages regarding the extension clause, so I figure I'm about to be looking for work anyway."

    "And we're lacking ASF support," I agreed. "We're looking to hire y'all on as an independent unit for now, with the hope that we can merge later on."

    "Heh," he shook his head. "Most of us are from the Outworlds Alliance, and only Nagase has the head for all of the logistics. We don't want to be hired on separately. And frankly, Davenport's about to go crazy if he has to help out with the paperwork for purchasing supplies again."

    "What do you want then?" I asked, raising an eyebrow as I tried to figure out what the redhead was trying to say.

    "We want you to buy us out," Aiden shrugged. "We left the OWA because they didn't seem to appreciate our sacrifice, and have tried to make it on our own. But we don't have the capital to stay in business for much longer, and it only takes one bad contract for your bird to get repossessed to recoup a nation's losses."

    "And what happens if I buy you out and y'all end up retiring with the payout?" I met the other man's stare.

    "That won't happen," he grinned. "Sure, we enjoy the paycheck. "But my group. We live for the thrill of spending time in the cockpit and outflying an enemy. We're looking for a challenge. And if I read you right, you'll be perfectly willing to find those challenges for us. And then we're able to get some help with more steady pay. Now, I already had an inkling this sort of thing was going to happen and had a basic contract written up with the MRB.."


    Author's note: Apparently I'm not good at taking breaks...
     
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    Date: September 21, 3002
    Location: Star System S101535, En Route to Pirate Outpost Codenamed Axylus

    "Move to escort positions," Blaze ordered as the seven aerospace fighters were launched from the Leopards. "You know your jobs, so let's get to it."

    "You know boss, it's been a while since we've done a proper dropper escort," Chopper's chipper voice echoed through the comms. "You sure we made the right call here?"

    "It was this or we turn in our wings," Edge spoke up. "It's not like we can afford to buy new birds after Swordsman and Heartbreak had to bail out."

    "Besides, this way we get to get paid without having to worry about the contract negotiations," Archer laughed. "God knows I hated going over the contracts line by line with Blaze and Monarch."

    "I'm just happy that we're going to be getting some replacement birds soon," Comic laughed. "I think if Robin has to talk the techs into working on that old Centurion again that they'll revolt."

    "She's a great training bird though!" Diplomat snarked. "We just need a couple of replacement parts and she'll be up and running the few trainees we've got in no time flat."

    "Alright, stow the chatter," Monarch's quiet voice broke the noise. "We're nearing the final approach."

    Monarch's Eagle led the Centurion and Lightning that made up the rest of his short squadron, the other three pilots not having fighters at the moment.

    As the trio of aerodyne dropships coasted in for a landing on the airless moon, a handful of LRM turrets and a beat-up RFL-2N attempted to take out the dropships, only for the LRM turrets to be destroyed by Wardog passing overhead their weapons arcing out and destroying the missile boats before they could cause more damage.

    "Alright," Hull's lance of 'Mechs ran down the ramp and into the line of fire, the enemy fifty-ton Rifleman attempting a fighting retreat as a Manticore followed the 'Mechs from the other dropships. "We're down, you guys get clear, Wardog, Hitman, keep the skies clear for us."

    "Copy that, Captain," Blaze responded. "We'll give you a heads up on what's coming up as well."

    "Remember to stay sealed up!" Sheppard barked. "No atmosphere means that we're not going to be happy if there's a breach. Keep your oxygen masks at the ready and be prepared to fall back to the LZ if you take too much damage."

    "Hey Captain, I thought I saw some walking salvage around here," Mckay's cocky voice resounded on an open channel, the taunt intended to lure out the Rifleman that had seemingly disappeared as they had disembarked.

    "Take Lamb and go get it then," Hull's 'Mech seemed to shrug as the channel swapped to laser comms. "Sheppard, move ahead, time to see just how much better that lostech works for us."

    "Yessir!" Sheppard's smirk was evident as his Mongoose shifted into a jog at 86 km/h, the warbook updating with the enemies within the new sensor range as the computers began sharing data, the old Star League Systems being superior to what Sheppard had used in the past.

    "Looks like we've got some Hunters salvaged or stolen from nearby Taurian worlds," Sheppard reported. "Makes sense too, any ICE would have to be left in a hanger by now."

    "Contact!" Erika Lamb reported. "Rifleman's down and marked for salvage, but we've got some sort of bastardized vics over here. Fusion engines with lasers and PPCs!"

    "Be careful, they'll punch a hole in your 'Mech!" Sheppard cautioned. "Keep them pinned down, we'll deal with our Hunters and then flank."

    "This is Blaze, we've got you covered," seven ASF streaked overhead, if an atmosphere had been present, a sonic boom would have shattered windows and shook the ground. As it was, the only sign of their passing was the streak of some PPCs, and the tracers from autocannon fire as the hodgepodge of tanks found their armor low or breached in various places.

    "Good hits, Wardog, Hitman," Lamb thanked the air support. "Drinks are on me when we get back to civilization."

    "We'll hold you to that, Scratch," Chopper laughed. "Just remember that I like a nice dark lager and we'll be fine."

    "Just try not to drink too much," Erika ducked under a handful of SRMs before moving close enough to place her foot on the tank. " Mom is always watching."

    "I heard that!" Hull's 'Hammer crested over a crater as he and Sheppard regrouped, the Manticore on their heels.

    "You have to admit the shoe fits, Mom," Sheppard chuckled. "Now let's focus up. I see a lance of 'Mechs moving in, looks like a heavy, two mediums, and a light."

    "Any read on the tonnage?"

    "The heavy and mediums are too close in weight for me to pick anything specific out. Could be any fifty-five and sixty tonner."

    A Locust crested the hill, its patchwork armor and odd armament showcasing just how desperate this band of pirates must have been as Sheppard began chasing the scout 'Mech, the two lights pairing off as Sheppard's lasers stripped armor off and began punching through armor, the trio of mediums burning through armor and sending molten rivulets down the torso.

    "Looks like a QuickDraw, Dervish, and something that's not registering in the Warbook," Mckay's Crab fired large lasers at the missile boat, carving away at armor while Hull lured the QuickDraw away from the fight. "You want the unknown, Scratch?"

    "Yeah," Lamb replied. "I'll handle it."

    Sheppard rapidly finished off the Locust, his trio of medium lasers burning into the fusion engine and coring it, sending the twenty-toner sliding across the moon's surface, the 'mech flipping end over end as it finally came to a stop.

    "Target down," the XO reported. "Moving to assist."

    The unknown medium spat six missiles at Lamb's Griffin, the pilot turning so that her unarmed side took the missiles as a pair of medium lasers also carved away at the armored side.

    "Could use some assistance here, this thing's packing some serious firepower," Lamb pulled out of short-range only to take a PPC to the knee.

    "I got you," Sheppard darted into view, his lasers carving away at the legs of the larger 'Mech before shifting out of view as Lamb moved into physical combat with her 'Mech, driving the armored battle fist into the other 'Mech and sending it teetering as it's Gyro screeched in protest, eventually giving up as it teetered to the ground, the pirate Mechwarrior scrambling to pull his 'Mech up as Erica kicked it, sending it crashing down again. Only this time, she pointed her PPC directly at the cockpit, indicating what would happen if he attempted to rise again.

    The unknown powered down, signaling surrender as Sheppard pushed to assist Mckay in her fight with the Dervish.

    "Mom, you need help?" Erika asked.

    "Negative on that," Hull replied, one of his PPCs arcing out and severing the ankle joint of the Quickdraw, sending the pilot head-first into a crater. "I've got it handled."

    The seventy ton 'Mech stood triumphantly overt the lighter heavy, its PPCs facing towards the Dervish.

    Then a PPC fired from long distance, the lone Manticore making its presence known as its man-made lightning carved away at the side torso, eating away at the ammo and ripping the 'Mech in half as the missiles within detonated.

    "So much for salvaging that one," Mckay called out. "I thought we were trying to get all of them."

    "Yeah, sorry about that," a muffled voice came from the Manticore. "It's been a while, and I was actually aiming for the cockpit."

    Sheppard's Mongoose turners and looked from the Manticore, all the way to the destroyed medium 'Mech.

    "Richard, that shot was at damned near extreme range," Sheppard dropped a line showing the distance. "Remind me never to piss you off."

    "That counts as a kill for both of us, right?" Naomi's voice cut in. "We're aiming to make 'Mech Ace by the end of our time."

    "Well, you've only got three left, I'd say that it's a pretty straight and easy path to it there," Hull pointed out.

    "Sure, Mom," Naomi grinned. "I'm glad you've got faith in your kids."






    "Well I'll be damned," Jewel looked at the massive dropship that lay on the surface. "You want us to see if that's spaceworthy?"

    "Yes," I replied. "I want us to get it flying again. The Concordat owes us a bit, and if what the techs tell me is true, then we'll have basically solved a lot of logistical problems based on the inside."
    "We'll do what we can," she sighed. "Just don't expect any miracles. And I'll likely need to borrow you in order to sweet talk some of those Star League Computers."

    "Right," I nodded, leaning back in the chair I'd borrowed. "But first, I need a nap. Getting all of the salvage dragged in was a lot of work."

    "I told you you'd be happy with us attaching a hitch to the Manticore," Naomi grinned. "Otherwise we'd have spent all day getting that Quickdraw and whatever the other piece of junk was back."

    "Yeah yeah," I waved a hand. "We'll discuss other modifications to the Scorpions and other stuff later. Right now, it's time for a nap."
     
  • Threadmarks
    • Chapter 38
  • Threadmarks
    • Chapter 38​

    Date: September 21, 3002
    Location: Pirate Outpost Codenamed Axylus

    "Remind me to check my straps every time i get into my 'Mech," I murmured to Sheppard as we popped open the cockpit of the Quickdraw I had downed earlier. "That had to be a nasty way to go."

    "It was quick though," the other man shrugged. "Neck snap like that? She didn't feel a damned thing."

    "Aside from the straps, this thing's remarkably well maintained," I looked around at the interior. "I'll bet you five pounds that this was the leader of this group of pirates."

    "No bet," Sheppard chuckled as we carried the corpse out of the heavy 'Mech. "I'm kinda glad we didn't have to deal with her though. Her 'Mech was less dangerous than that medium that Erika brought down."

    "We ever get an ID on that?" I asked, the two of us tossing the pirate's body into the trailer with the others.

    "Internal warbook marks it out as a GLD-4R," Jerome McAllister called out from another part of the 'Mech bay, the giant of a man walking over to take a look at the Quickdraw, his hands wiping off some grease onto a faded gray rag slung over his shoulder. "She's one of the last ones ever built, came off the line at the end of 2494. That she's in as good shape as she is says things about her owner."

    "The fuck's a Gladiator?" Sheppard arched an eyebrow as he looked between me and the burly Northwinder.

    "Pretty ancient Combine 'Mech," the tech replied. "I dunno why it was abandoned in manufacturing, but the 'Mech itself ain't a bad piece of kit. It's got a PPC for a long range punch, twin Mediums, and a sixpack to round it off."

    "Can we use it?" I asked. "Or will it be too costly to maintain?"

    "Actuators aven't changed all that much," he shrugged. "I might have to use some Griffin parts to keep it running unless we 'ant to make this a custom rig."

    "We'll hold onto it for now," I said after some thought. "We've still got to sort out the tanks and the dropship after all."

    "Jus' lemme know how you want to proceed when it comes time," the giant turned and barked orders at some other techs, the swarm surrounding the Quickdraw and beginning to hoist it up in the gantries.

    "How did you find him?" Sheppard asked as we meandered over to where the tanks we had snatched were being salvaged.

    "He was bored," I smirked. "The guy got into college on New Syrtis, but the classes he was taking were too boring and he was way ahead of their material. So when I came into town and put out some ads he was one of the first to apply."

    "And he wasn't snatched up by anyone else?" Sheppard gave me a look. "What'd you offer him?"

    "He gets to tinker with whatever we find," I grinned. "The guy really does just want to be able to play with old 'Mechs like the Gladiator and whatever else we find. I told him if we acquire enough spare parts, that hes allowed to experiment with a frankenmech if he wants."

    "Ahh," Sheppard nodded in understanding. "He's a gear head and you gave him the ability to do whatever he wants."

    "As long as our 'Mechs and tanks stay in working condition he's allowed to do whatever he wants," I shrugged. "That's all I really care about."

    "Ahh, Mark, Jack," Richard spotted us from the top of the Manticore where he was leaning down to work on something. "Naomi, the Captain's here."

    "They are?!" a loud clang was heard as she seemingly hit her head before the woman of Asian descent popped out. "It's good to see you guys."

    "Yeah, we're making the rounds and checking that we can actually use the kit we salvaged," Jack leaned against the side of the Heavy tank.

    "And in that vein, I have to ask. What are these?" I tapped the side of one of the odd looking tanks that we had salvaged from the pirates.

    "They're miniature manticores!" She pointed at the PPC on top of one of them. "Looks like they stripped out the missiles from a Hunter and threw in a Large laser or PPC and some rockets or SRM launchers, whatever it was they had available from their last raid."

    "Are they functional?" I asked. "And can we maintain them?"

    "They're kitbashed, together" she shrugged. "It'd be better if I had access to a full machine shop, then we could manufacture new turret housings instead of these barely holding together pieces of junk."

    "But they'll be effective?" I pulled myself on top of one of the tanks to look down at the interior.

    "Yeah, they will," Richard spoke up. "We'll have to recalibrate the systems if we manage to build out a standardized turret, but with the stripped out twenty pack, we've got some tonnage to play with."

    "You guys really think they'll be a good addition?" I asked one last time, swinging down from the PPC barrel.

    "Well," they exchanged glances. "We only salvaged two of them intact enough to repair and use. But, if we pair them up with the Scorpions and Manticore, we'll be in business."

    "Do we have the crews to make use of them?" Sheppard stood up straight from where he'd been leaning.

    "Skeleton crews for now, we'll have to expand later," Naomi replied. "Nothing to be done about it for now."

    Then the comms at my belt buzzed, and then moving it out in the open, I activated it.

    "This is Hull."

    "Captain, we need your ancient ass to help with these computer systems. Rook here's good, but he's not three centuries old."

    I grunted and shut the device off, glaring at it as closed off the temptation to throw it at the nearby tanks.

    "You might want to go help, old man," Sheppard smirked. "After all, isn't it getting close to your bedtime, mom?"

    "I hate that callsign," I grumbled as I turned to walk away.

    "Well, if you stopped mothering us so much!" Sheppard chuckled as he began to follow behind. "You're stuck with it, and callsigns are hard to shake, believe me."

    "What's the worst you've heard?" I asked as we moved to the nearby airlock and began suiting up to move to the crashed ship.

    "It was definitely 'Stabber'," Sheppard sighed. "Guy was a gifted pilot, but he couldn't shoot for shit no matter how much gunnery practice he got."

    "Y'all put him in front?" I raised an eyebrow.

    "God I wish," he tucked his helmet under his arm and gestured for me to start checking seals. "We got transferred to a few different commands together. And none of them believed the reports on how bad he was. Wasn't until he'd accidentally tagged one of the CO's Victors that things really changed."

    "Either way, better 'Mom' than 'Stabber' or something worse," Sheppard sealed his helmet and I did the same as we cycled the airlock. "Now, let's get you to those computer systems old man."

    "I know where you sleep," I tried to shoot lasers out of my eyes, but my Superman powers seemed to be lacking and I settled for a glare instead.

    "You don't want to start a pranking war," I could hear the grin in his voice. "Trust me, I'll end up winning that."






    Date: September 23, 3002

    "Diagnostics are reporting green on that section," I rubbed at my eyes, the letters on the screen blurring as I helped the dropship crew members diagnose and fix repairs, a yawn punctuating what I'd done for the last few days. "Anything else you need me to check?"

    "Nah, this entire area is up and running again," a Petty Officer smirked. "At this rate, we'll be able to try and lift off from this moon in a week or so."

    "Yeah," I agreed. "I'm going to bed, y'all can wake me if you need anything else."

    "Captain Hull!" Rook burst into the room. "The computers on the bridge, you've got to see this! They've got something that I only got a glimpse of, but if it's accurate, we just hit the jackpot!"

    "Alright," I eased myself up, the lethargy still not shaking itself loose. "Let's go see what you found."
     
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    • Plan of Mechagodzilla ?
    Jokes aside - good chapter,and Hull here would remain mommy till his dying days.
     
    Chapter 39
  • Threadmarks
    • Chapter 39​


    "So, what's got you all excited?" I asked Rook.

    "I think I just found a repository of potential Star League depots and Caches," he grinned. "I'm recording the data onto a separate data core now for us to go over later."

    "Good," I looked at the data he was pouring over. "Make a couple of backups just in case. Once we get this thing up and running I want to wipe the Astrological data. I like the Taurians, but I'm not volunteering loot to anyone before we've had a chance to go over it."

    "I get it, boss," the Tech hooked up a second core to begin transferring data. "But there is one location that's fairly close."

    "Which one is that?" I asked.

    "This system, here," he highlighted a world on the edge of the Concordat. "Artru is likely one of the ones we can grab loot from while we're in between contracts here in the periphery."

    "I think we'll have to see if there have been any rumors or news broadcasts about caches found within the last hundred years," I replied. "I figure if there are, that there's probably not much left in those locations and we'll have to move on to the next."

    "So I guess someone's going to end up doing that grunt work," he shrugged. "So long as I'm not the only one who's doing it I'm good with it."

    "We'll have admin go over it," I said as I made sure that the data was being transferred over intact. "That's the sort of thing we pay them for, after all."

    "Well, aside from that, we've managed to get the computer systems up and running," Rook pointed out the panels that were lit up. "The tech is more advanced than anything I've worked with before, but the principles were the same. The odd thing is that the pirates have only been here for a year or so. Which is a good thing, considering they had only just started stripping things out to repair their 'Mechs and tanks."

    "Anything else interesting turn up when you were looking through things?" I asked.

    "Yeah," he nodded. "The machine shops here are supposed to be able to construct anything provided we've got the plans and correct materials."

    "Which solved a lot of logistical issues," I stroked my beard. "And I assume the cargo space onboard is good?"

    "Call it fifty-five thousand tons now," Rook shrugged. "Maybe less if you have the Concordat do some refits."

    "They owe us for the Jumpships," I replied. "They can repair and refit this for a fraction of what the Jumpships were worth."

    "What're you thinking of having done?" One of the people doing repairs spoke up.

    "Well, for starters, we need some defensive weaponry. This thing doesn't even have the armament of a Jumpship. So we're going to sacrifice a bit of cargo space to repair it and bring it up to snuff. Then we're going to make sure that we kit up our new hires with enough aerospace assets to fully outfit the bays."

    "Sounds good to me boss," Rook smiled. "But we should probably get it back in the void first."





    Date: October 8, 3002
    Location: Pirate Outpost Codenamed Axylus

    "Keep an eye out for any remaining pirate jumpers," Blaze informed his unit. "Hitman, you're on escort duty for the new dropper, I know she's a big one, but I need her covered."

    "We're on it, Wardog," the normally quiet leader of Hitman responded. "Just make sure that our paycheck stays secure."

    "Big one's taking off now," Blaze chuckled in response. "Her name is the Argo for now, but given that they found her crashed and haven't found her black box yet…"

    "Wonder if there will be a poll for the names?" Chopper mused over an open channel. "If there is, I'm putting my vote in for Big Bertha."

    "We'll find out after she's out of the repair docks," the current pilot of the Argo replied. "For now, we'll keep her as is until we rechristen her."

    The Argo passed by the fighters, the five Aerodyne dropships in formation around it, the Messenger leading the pack while the twin Leopard CVs brought up the middle with the pair of Buccaneers in the rear.

    "Be advised, King Henry, we've got a convoy in tow," The Messenger sent ahead.

    "I take it we got a good haul?" Kaylee asked when the transmission finally reached her.

    "That's an affirmative," Victoria Jewel replied. "We're going to need all of the collars to get this back to known space though."

    "Sounds good. We'll keep the champagne waiting for you."





    Location: Taurus, Taurian Concordat
    Date: October 23, 3002

    "Mercenary group Marksman, do not deviate from your assigned course or you will be fired upon."

    "Copy that, control, following designated course."

    "They're awful friendly," I muttered.

    "They've got a good reason to be paranoid," Jewel shrugged. "And given how much debris is around, I'd rather follow one of their safe courses."

    "Well, we're only here to collect the rest of our pay and get the Argo repaired and refit," I replied. "After that, I've got something lined up with Interstellar Expeditions."

    "Off to explore the galaxy?" Sheppard asked.

    "They're letting us use their Star Lord to haul the rest of our kit," I shrugged. "And at no extra charge. On top of that, it's a really good check, and we get to keep all of the salvage from anything we find."

    "So we guard a bunch of eggheads and collect a good bunch of pay," Peterson shrugged. "Sounds good to me."

    "We'll see if we can pick up some more recruits to round out our pilots," I shrugged. "Because technically we're still here on contract to the Concordat until the end of the month."

    "Didn't they rotate the Black Jacks into place?" Sheppard asked.

    "Yeah," I shrugged. "I guess a full battalion was something they would rather have. Because they got a multi-year contract."

    "Oh well," Sheppard shrugged. "IE has a good rep. And working for them often leads to some interesting salvage opportunities for the units that end up hired."

    "When does the new contract start?" Jewel asked. "Our people are going to want shore leave."

    "We've got a few months," I replied. "They'll get their downtime. But we need to get people to crew the dropship and to find spares."

    "Right," Peterson spoke up. "With the Argo, we can pack enough to fight in sustained combat provided we control the skies."

    "I'm going to give our new hires a check to buy whatever they can pick up on the local markets," I nodded. "We're going in with eighteen fighters as escorts."

    "Good," Sheppard grinned. "It's always better to outnumber the opponents in the sky."

    "I'll drink to that once we're on the ground," Peterson replied. "Let's just get there first."
     
  • Threadmarks
    • Chapter 40
  • Threadmarks
    • Chapter 40​
    Location: Taurus, Taurian Concordat
    Date: November 24, 3002

    "So, we lost about Seven thousand tons of cargo," Captain Jewel said as our small craft circled around the Argo. "And added three to four hundred tons of armor as well as some more heat sinks and weapons."

    "How much cargo space do we still have?" I asked. "I'd like for her to be able to support us logistically as well as do the other job that we wanted for her."

    "Around Fifty Thousand or so," she shrugged. "Two thousand to defensive weapons and armor, and five to the medical equipment that you wanted stocked."

    "I want us to be able to take care of our own," I looked at the few weapons emplacements that were still being installed by the Taurian work crews. "I picked up some researchers and professors at the local universities, I figure we can try our hand at some semblance of research. After all, never know when you might pick up some Lostech and need to repair or replace it. It's part of why I mainly picked up engineers instead of scientists."

    "Well, they'll have the space for all of the equipment they desire," Jewel moved us closer to the ship. "And the Hydroponics bays are going to go a long way to supplement rations."

    "The ideal would be for this to be a hospital and R&D vessel," I shrugged. "But I expect we'll be using it for a lot more than that."

    "She's a one of a kind prize," Victoria met my eyes. "I expect we'll have eyes on us everywhere we go."

    "I'm pretty sure we've got some spooks from all over the 'Sphere in the new recruits," I replied. "Plan is to have Dunham start working through and identifying potential spies. As long as they do their jobs, we'll leave them alone, just feed them misleading information."

    "You know that he's probably feeding information back to MI6, right?" Jewel asked. "He worked for them, and I'm pretty sure that even the low level guys don't ever really retire from that sort of thing."

    "I kinda have to deal with it as is," I sighed. "I don't have anyone else skilled in Intel work. I mean, sure. We've got people that are decent at SIGINT, but Dunham's the only guy we've got whose done the HUMINT work before. Besides, I don't really care as long as the Capellans and Combine aren't up to date on our movements," I left unsaid the third faction I didn't want to have intel on our movements.

    "That's fair," the captain replied. "Just figured I'd give you a heads up on what's coming."





    Date: November 27, 3002
    Location: Interstellar Expeditions Warehouse, Taurus, Taurian Concordat

    "Doctor Ford," I shook the leader of the expedition's hand. "I trust that your journey went well?"

    "It went as it usually does," he met my eyes as he responded firmly before gesturing for me to sit down. "Now, I'm sure that you'd like to know why I desired to meet with you if you've already been vetted and hired for the security of this expedition by the usual fellows at the Agency."

    "Not really," I shrugged. "I figured you'd like to meet face to face and see what we were like just in case of personality clashes."

    "A bit," he replied. "But I'm more inclined to give you the details of the direction we're heading in, and I'm hoping that you'll be willing to do a bit more than simple job security. After all, it's not every day that someone happens across a relic from the Star League such as the one that's in orbit currently."

    "She's a good ship, and with some TLC, she'll fit our needs very well."

    "I'm sure," Ford agreed. "But regardless, if you have this sort of luck, then maybe we'll happen across something interesting out there," he then shifted gears. "While our Star Lord is prepared to host your dropships, I was hoping that you could spare some cargo space for some of our equipment. Unfortunately, the Mule that was carrying our cargo was delayed in the Federated Suns due to some parts malfunctions."

    "I'm sure we can free up some space," I replied. "I mean, a contract with the salvage rates like yours doesn't come along every day of the year."

    "Yes, but the pay is much smaller than you would receive on a garrison contract," Ford replied. "It's part of how we manage to stay financially solvent."

    "Right," I nodded. "Now, you said something about a charted route?"

    "So, we're going to be taking this highlighted route," he opened a Tri-Vid screen and illuminated the targeted systems. "We managed to find records of settlers fleeing from both Canopus and the Concordat during the War of Terran Aggression as it's known here in the Concordat. We also found the projected systems that they desired to move to, so we're going to follow in their footsteps and see if there's anything to be found."

    "I hope that you find everything you're looking for," I replied. "And if you'll send me the charts, I'll make sure that my jumpship crew knows what to look for."

    "Jolly good," Ford stood up. "Now, if you have any questions before our departure, let me know and I'll do my best to give you a satisfactory answer."

    "I'll try to keep you eggheads safe," I smirked. "After all, we all know what sort of trouble scientists get into."

    "I'll have you know that we're a respectable bunch," Ford grinned. "We've only found old CBRN weapons once or twice before having them disposed of."

    "Sure," I chuckled. "I'll believe it when I see it."





    Date: December 20, 3002
    Location: Rented office space for Marksman Mercenary Unit, Taurus, Taurian Concordat

    "So you're a trained engineer Doctor Rogers, was it?" I asked, flipping through the resume I had been provided by the administrative staff.

    "I've got a doctorate in both engineering and mechanical development," the woman replied. "They're actually two degrees."

    "Well, what brings you to us instead of going to teach at a university or trying your hand at governmental R&D?"

    "One, you pay more," she smiled. "Two, I want to take a look at that," she pointed up at the sky."

    "I mean, the sky does look fairly gorgeous today," I glanced out the window at the gorgeous violet and blue streaked horizon. "But if you wanted to be a meteorologist, you're at the wrong place."

    "That's not what I meant and you know it," She folded her arms, seemingly unamused at my sarcasm even as her lips tried not to curl into a smile.

    "Well, if you're willing to handle some sarcasm and ornery soldiers, I'm happy to have you on board," I stood up and shook her hand. "Just know that we've had a lot of applicants want to work on the Argo, and we're having to vet carefully. So, is there anything in your background that will cause any potential issue before we sign the paperwork?"

    "I have an ex that doesn't know how to let go?" She offered. "He's not abusive or a stalker or anything, just calls every once in a while."

    "I think we can handle an ex-boyfriend," I grinned. "Now, you'll need to speak with Emily in Admin to get the paperwork finalized, but either way, Welcome to the Marksman."

    "Thanks," she stood up. "Why the personal interview though? I expected to meet with one of the admin people."

    "You didn't read the job you applied for?" I asked, my eyebrow arched. "You applied for the head of our engineering and research department, it's right here next to your signature," I spun the paperwork she'd handed around so she could read it."

    "Oh," she blinked at the sheet. "Well fuck me, I guess."

    "Excuse me?" I asked.

    "I didn't read everything through," she facepalmed. "I thought I'd just applied for the regular engineer and research position."

    "Nope," I popped the 'P' sound. "Definitely not. Admittedly though, part of the reason we were willing to look at you over the other candidates is that you have listed time spent working with the local Dockworkers unions on powered exoskeletons."

    "Those things were falling to pieces," she groaned. "That I managed to accomplish anything with them at all was a miracle."

    "Well," I shrugged. "When I called the Union, they sung your praises. And even when I ended the call they sent a physical letter via courier."

    "So, I got a job that I didn't apply for," she finally realized what everything entailed. "Is there any way I can step down to just a basic researcher?"

    "Give it a try first," I smiled gently. "I don't have enough people that you'll be sidelined while being in charge. Do it for six months, and if you still aren't satisfied, we'll let you bust down to a researcher, and we'll just find an office manager or something. That sound fair to you?"

    "Yeah," she sighed and stared at my outstretched hand. "That's fair," she shook it. "Now, where are your admin people? I want to see what kind of wreck I've got to deal with."
     
  • Threadmarks
    • MarkWarrior said:
    "Nope," I popped the 'P' sound. "Definitely not. Admittedly though, part of the reason we were willing to look at you over the other candidates is that you have listed time spent working with the local Dockworkers unions on powered exoskeletons."
    Click to expand...

    ..... Power armor?

    I always did like that stuff.
     
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