Blood on the Horizon (Reimagined)

Chapter 21
    • Chapter 21

    "Well, that looks to be everything," Rose smiled, entering the last of my paperwork into what looked like a fax machine. "We've got everything scanned, and will send it over to Terra in the morning pulse."

    "How soon til I'll be able to access the funds?" I asked, leaning back in my chair, my neck in my hands as I cracked my back against the chair.

    "A few days," Rose shuddered. "Can you please not do that, it sounds gross."

    "Sure," I chuckled. "I'm just stiff is all."

    "Now, was there anything else that Comstar can assist you with?" she yawned, blushing as she realized she had done so.

    "Wanted to check and see what the MRB fees are," I shrugged and then glanced at the clock. "But I'm not sure they're awake at this hour."

    "Yeah," she yawned again, covering her mouth. "Come on, I'll help you get checked into a hotel that's down the street and then head on home. You can come back in the morning to check on the paperwork's processing an stuff."

    I followed the Adept as she left the HPG, the guard I had found sleeping earlier replaced with a much more attentive older man who simply met my eyes and gave me a sharp nod as we left.

    "Hotel's about a two hundred and fifty meters that way," Rose pointed down the street. "The prices aren't the best, but they've got good beds, great pillows and a warm breakfast."

    "Thanks," I stretched. "At this point, I'd take a flat cot and a slice of toast with butter."

    She turned and climbed into a car that was parked nearby, cranking it up and driving away.

    Meanwhile, I looked around at the small city that surrounded me before glancing up at the stars.

    "What a strange world we live in," I mused, the unfamiliar stars greeting me with their light. "I've seen some of those stars up close, but I couldn't pick them out on a star map."

    I sighed as I spotted the sign for the hotel down the street. "Dad would have loved this place, he always was better at winning friends and influencing people."

    "Welcome to Breakwater motel," a bored woman glanced up as I entered the lobby. "Can I help you with anything, sir?"

    "Yeah, I'd like to book a room," I replied, pulling out some of the cash that I had.

    "What size room would you like? "She asked, turning her attention to a notebook. "We're not very busy at the moment and have pretty much everything available."

    "I just need a bed and a bathroom," I shrugged. "So whatever the basic room is for the night."

    "So, we can do one night for a hundred pounds, or three for a hundred and seventy-five."

    "I'll be in town for a little bit," I counted out the cash and handed it to her in exchange for a room key. "The three nights is fine."

    "Breakfast is from six to ten in the morning," she gave a small smile. "And room 105 is going to be down the hall to the right."

    "Thanks," I tucked the key into my pocket and made my way to the hotel room, collapsing onto the bed and closing my eyes, the exhaustion of a mind that had done nothing but paperwork all day mixed in with the rested body, leaving me unable to sleep.

    Stripping down to a pair of shorts, I began to work through a calisthenics routine, spending time working on things until sweat dripped from my face and torso.

    "Now time to turn this down," I cranked the A/C level down to about 18 degrees, swearing about the stupid conversions as I did the math in my head to get the real, American temperature. "Then, shower and sleep."






    "Well, I'd love to purchase some of these off of ya," a farmer looked at the Jabberwocky that was sitting out on the unloading bay. "But I'm 'fraid none of us round 'ere can afford to pay ya what they'd be worth."

    "I'd be willing to make a deal," I tried to change his mind.

    "Son," the old farmer shook his head. "We're not exporting a lot at the moment, and I don't aim to treat you wrong. He pointed out in the distance. "I've got plenty of land that I'd love to put to plow, I just ain't got the funds for a machine of that level."

    "It's not fusion powered," I shrugged. "And I'm willing to work out a payment plan if nothing else."

    "I'll have a talk with some of my kin," he chewed on some tobacco before spitting onto the ground. "We might be able to figure something out."

    "I'll be here for a few months," I smiled. "So don't worry about getting back to me immediately."

    –
    –

    "Sorry," Rose smiled sadly. "But Marksmen is already taken by a mercenary group. They're a band of pirate hunters on the OWA's border."

    "Damn," I looked at the paperwork. "What about the Marksman?"

    "Not taken," She frowned. "But also not very original."

    "Not worried about original," I chuckled. "I'm more concerned with finding the right people."

    "There's a few militia and retired or discharged vets on Pierce that have been looking for work," Rose printed out a sheet and handed it to me. "No guarantees that they're what you're looking for, but it's at least a place to start. Now, you're settled on the name?"

    "Yeah," I signed the paperwork. "And the paperwork for changing the trading company?"

    "Right here," she slid over more papers.

    I carefully read over everything, noting the amount in the accounts and what investments the late captain had possessed and authorizing the transfer of ownership to the newly created Sharpshooter Industries and Manufacturing Incorporated. Or SIMI as it would eventually be called.

    "That's everything," Rose scanned those documents in. "If I have to keep doing this level of paperwork, I might quit though. I signed up to work on cool tech, and got stuck with this."

    "Well, I do happen to know someone that's about to be hiring," I smirked.

    "I'll think about it," she cracked a smile of her own. "I've got another nine months on this world before I get rotated, so we'll see."

    "I'll reach out then," I shook her hand. "Thanks for all of your help."

    "I'd say anytime, but if you ever give me that much paperwork again, I might just murder you and hide the body."

    "That sounds fair to me," I cracked my wrists and turned to leave the room. "I'll be in touch."

    "Looking forward to it, see ya around, Hull."






    "This looks like it's it," I glanced up at the lone bar on the street. "Let's see what kind of man you are, Jack Sheppard."

    Author's Note: A bit delayed due to some IRL stuffs. Just keep my family in your prayers, please.
     
    • Chapter 22
    • Chapter 22

    The inside of the bar was well-lit, this early in the afternoon, it seemed to function more as a normal restaurant than a place to get drunk in.

    "What can I get for you hun?" A pretty waitress asked, her apron stained from obvious use.

    "I'll take a sweet tea and a menu for now," I smiled at her. "I'm hoping to meet with one of your regulars if he's around, if not," I shrugged. "Then I'll just enjoy some food and get out of your hair."

    "I'll be right back with your drink," she slid a laminated menu over along with an erasable marker. "Just check off the food you want and I'll get that rushed to the back for you."

    "Thank you," I set down the fairly thick folder I was carrying and looked through the menu, selecting a handful of options before setting it to the side and opening up the folder to the first candidate I was planning on interviewing.

    "Jonathon, "Jack" Sheppard," I read through the file again to refresh my memory. "Discharged from the AFFS after refusing to leave behind a group of infantrymen that had been pinned by combat vehicles. Lost his family's 'mech in the process and has since been working dead-end jobs."

    "Here's our tea," the waitress came back with a glass and a straw. "I'll take your menu and be back with the food you ordered."

    "Thanks," I nodded, taking a sip of my tea before glancing up and seeing the person that I was looking for walking out with a bus tray in his hands as he collected dishes and took them to the back. "I'll be here waiting."

    I watched as Sheppard diligently attended to the task at hand, even if you could tell that he didn't enjoy the work, he was doing it regardless, the few other customers he was interacting with smiling and sharing conversation with him.

    As he made his way around to my section I gestured for him to come to my table.

    "You wouldn't happen to be Jonathon Sheppard, would you?" I asked.

    "It's Jack," he sized me up, noting where I was in the bar. "And it depends on who's asking."

    "I'm looking to hire someone to fill a certain role in my unit," I said as I laid some cash on the table. "Regardless of whether you hear me out or not, this is yours," I looked into the brown eyes of a nearly broken man. "I know what it's like to have to struggle to make ends meet."

    "Alright," he slid the cash into an apron pocket before taking a seat. "You have thirty minutes to convince me."

    "One," I slid his available CSV over the table to him. "I've seen the public data and it doesn't scare me away," I held up my hand and counted off another finger. "Two, I know that your family's mech was destroyed and that you guys had to pay a fortune to get it back. I'm willing to pay that off and let you keep the 'mech that you pilot."

    "What's the catch?" Jack interrupted me. "This is too good to be true. Ain't no one care that much about some 'mech jockey who wanted to save some PBIs."

    "The catch is that I want you to be committed," I sighed. "I don't just want another 'average' merc unit. I want people that aren't your typical 'mech jocks. I'm looking for the kind of people that are willing to do the sort of thing that got you sacked by your old unit. And I'm willing to pay good money to make sure that you and yours are taken care of if you join up. I know what it's like to be in your shoes, and I don't want you to have to worry about that sort of thing if you work for me."

    "Lemme think about it," Sheppard slid out of the booth. "Got a way for me to get in touch with ya?"

    "I'm staying at the Breakwater motel," I sipped my tea and tossed the file folder at him. "I've got some other people to talk to, so I might not be there, but the receptionist should be able to take a message for me."

    "I'll get in contact when I've got an answer," he picked up the tray from the nearby table and got back to work, the waitress coming up and speaking to him in muted tones.

    I watched as Sheppard took the cash I had tipped him and slid it into a shared tip jar instead of keeping it to himself. A smile appearing as I gratefully accepted my food from the waitress.

    "Strong moral character," I muttered as I was left alone again. "That is what's important to me."






    "Hello, I'm here to speak to Thomas Peterson," I knocked on the door of a fairly large house on the outskirts of this small town, the nearby cattle grazing made me long for the days of building fences with my grandparents on their farm.

    "I'm comin'" a large farmer stepped out of the house and onto the porch, his hat held in his hand. "I'm James, Thomas' Pa, he's out in the pasture fixin' somethin' for me. You kin wait here, or we can take a ride," he walked over to an old farm truck, a gun mounted on a rack and an extra fuel tank sitting in the bed.

    "I'll come along for the ride," I hopped into the truck after him. "It's been far too long since I've seen a ranch and I'm sure you have some questions for me."

    "Yeah, I got a fair few questions," James nodded. "For one, why're you keen on Thomas? He's just a member of the local militia, not like he got much in the way of a military education."

    "He's got a college degree and did extremely well in the last pirate raid y'all faced," I shrugged. "He was one of those at the top of the list of recommendations by the local MRB rep when I gave them my requirements."

    "So you think he'll be a good little officer in this business of yours?" the dad raised an eyebrow.

    "I think he'll take me to task if I give a stupid or unlawful order," I answered honestly. "I'm not looking for a sycophant, I'm looking for the kind of people that are hard to convince, but that once are convinced are behind me all the way. But in the end are still willing to ask the right questions."

    "You know that you won't just be taking him along, right?" James glanced over at me. "He's got a girl here, and he's rightly attached at the hip."

    "I'm not looking to cause harm," I yawned as I looked out over the grazing cattle. "Just trying to find good men and women to work with. There's too many people out there who'll do anything for money, and I don't want someone who's willing to sell their soul for C-Bills working with me."

    "Fair 'nough," the grizzled farmer nodded. "Well, I'll see to it that Thomas at least hears you out, even if he don't want to."

    "That's all I can ask for," I changed the subject and started exchanging farm stories with the old man, a smile on my face as we continued over the hills and pasture.

    Author's Note: We should be returning to the regular update schedule providing nothing crazy happens over the next few days or weeks.
     
    • Chapter 23
    • 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."
     
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    • Chapter 24
    • 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."
     
    • Chapter 25
    • 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."
     
    • Chapter 26
    • 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.”
     
    • Chapter 27
    • 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.
     
    • Chapter 28
    • 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.
     
    • Chapter 29
    • 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?"
     
    • Chapter 30
    • 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…"
     
    • Chapter 31
    • 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.
     
    • Chapter 32
    • 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."
     
    • Chapter 33
    • Chapter 33

    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.”
     
    • Chapter 34
    • Chapter 34

    "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.
     
    • Chapter 35
    • Chapter 35


    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.
     
    • Chapter 36
    • Chapter 36

    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...
     
    • Chapter 37
    • Chapter 37​

    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."
     
    • Chapter 38
    • 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."
     
    • Chapter 39
    • 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."
     
    • Chapter 40
    • 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."
     
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