Chapter 16
Olivetti Weaponry Manufacturing Center, Outside Hamar, Sudeten,
Tamar Domains, Tamar Pact, Lyran Commonwealth
December 11th, 3015
The trip from Catachan to Sudeten hadn’t been any better the second time around, though at least it hadn’t been any worse either. And even if my personal situation with regards to TDS wasn’t improved, the CAC’s professional situation
was.
Rather than one Jumpship with an empty collar, this time we’d brought two, and both fully laden.
Smitty, with her pair of collars, had played host to the company’s pair of Mules. The
Long Haul, purchased on this very world half a decade past, and the
Lunch Bucket, recovered from Catachan’s dropship boneyard. Our second Jumpship, the
Phillip Sheridan was an Invader, and we’d picked up our fifty percent stake in her by delivering and then installing a replacement Jump computer. Something the family that owned and operated the old lady couldn’t have possibly afforded otherwise.
Her three collars had been used to move the
Implacable, our old Overlord, as well as the refurbished
Birdcage, our Union-CV, still attached and playing guard out at the Jump Point. Last, but not least, had been the converted Triumph,
Laid Back so named because the layout meant that the ‘Mechs she carried had to be laid down and rolled on and off to fit in areas originally designed for tanks. The latter two completed the trio of salvageable Dropships we’d found on Catachan.
We might be starting the trip at Sudeten, but we’d be heading elsewhere with the
Phil before we returned home.
One piece of evidence to support our new place in the Sphere was exiting a hover limo as I supervised the offloading. From the ground level this time: my mech was one of the ones flat on its back at the moment.
“Mister Weber,” Michael Olivetti greeted me, hand extended. We shook. “I’ll wager I’m not going to be able to call you that for much longer.”
“Sucker’s bet, Duke Olivetti,” I said before getting serious again. “I’ve got a full load of bits and bobs for the new Thunderbolt this time. We got the last kinks in ‘pouring’ the structural members for the limbs ironed out, and they managed to correct the issue with the extra material on the left torso armor plates.”
“Good to hear, not that it’s unexpected. Your people have been doing damn fine work to get things going as quickly as they have, but my assembly staff will be glad not to have to shave the armor down before fitting it.”
“I can imagine that would be tiresome,” I agreed, waiting with anticipation. The loadmaster had prioritized the unloading of the parts by necessity, but I had two very large pieces of equipment blocking up quite a bit of the rest of this cargo bay. I’d told him to keep them onboard until someone senior enough was around to get them put under cover quickly, but mostly I’d been hoping to show them off to the Duke. As soon as I’d seen the limo pulling up, I’d gone ahead and told the
Lunch Bucket’s Loadmaster to get them moving.
“Though speaking of the unexpected,” I said and gestured to the ramp. Duke Olivetti raised an eyebrow. A few seconds later, the first of the two big Roll On Roll Off trailers for hauling Mechs horizontally appeared at the mouth of the cavernous cargo bay and his second eyebrow joined the first.
“I’ll be damned,” he said, then after a moment, he shot me an aggrieved look. “Up to your old tricks again, hmm?” he asked, referring to my penchant for shock and awe tactics.
“Actually, not this time. I didn’t want to brag when I wasn’t sure we’d be able to get them done for this shipment,” I admitted as the second RORO trailer followed the first. “We had so much damn trouble getting the factory finished I almost wrote off the possibility entirely.”
“And they work?” Olivetti asked, then clarified. “No buggy systems, control circuits that fail under load, misfiring jump jets? I know we had some serious problems when we first brought both the Thunderbolt and Warhammer lines up. Ammunition feed problems mostly.”
“The Demon Murphy appears to have been satisfied with futzing with the lines,” I replied. “I swear each problem we fixed caused two others for a while. We had to increase the mass of the overhead carriage for moving the chassis along until the legs were fitted, that caused the rails to fail under the increased weight, and one motor to burn out. Then the bearings were no longer the right size and-” I cut myself off before the rant could really develop a proper hear of steam.
“In any case, the Mechs work great. Of course, having techs familiar with fully functional examples helps. I had them go over both with a fine-toothed comb. They’re all green.” I turned to make eye contact.
“I don’t suppose there’s any chance that whatever generals are here to give you the approval to switch the -6O designation for a -6S would be open to taking a gander at a second proposed Battlemech?” I inquired.
Duke Michael Olivetti just chuckled before breaking into a belly laugh.
“I don’t suppose you got a good look at Hamar’s Spaceport when you came in for a landing, did you?” he asked.
I paused at the seeming non-sequitur and tried to figure out what the issue was. Had they gone ahead and done the Acceptance Trials early? No, I’d have expected to have seen LCAF dropships here loading Lostech Thuds for transport if that were the case. Some sort of terrorist attack? We hadn’t seen or heard anything on the news on the way in…
“No, we usually keep our ASFs to ourselves. For some reason we make the Lyran Regulars nervous,” I admitted.
“Well, you probably wouldn’t have been able to land if that’s where you were trying to put down. There’s a whole mess of military dropships there,” the Duke said, still chuckling, “because it isn’t just a few generals here for the Trials. Archon Katrina was going to be making a trip out to Tamar anyway, so diverting here to investigate a new Mech variant full of wonder-tech …”
The Duke trailed off, and it was all I could do to keep from giggling madly or maybe bouncing in giddiness. Shock and Awe tactics were back on the table.
“So,” Olivetti said, refocusing my attention, “while eventually addressing you as a fellow Duke might not be a surprise, how soon it could happen might have changed the results of that bet, just a bit.”
“Touche,” I admitted before pressing my question.
“Do you think you can get the Phoenix put on the docket at this late date?”
“Hmph. Don’t think I don’t see what you’re doing. Trying to upstage me at my own event,” the Duke said, though he did so with a small smile. Then he turned to face me, dead serious.
“Aye, I can do it and I will. Even if this wasn’t something that will be good for the Commonwealth, I owe you one.”
“Well, thank you anyway,” I said and shook his hand. Then I looked back at the two Mechs on their trailers and finally let myself grin.
“I am so glad we decided to rig the capability for false armor panels over the weapons as a standard feature.”
Olivetti knew me too well. Both of us started laughing over what the observers’ probable reactions would be.
XXXXX
Olivetti Weapons Testing Range, Bordering Michael Olivetti Nature Reserve, Sudeten,
Tamar Domains, Tamar Pact, Lyran Commonwealth
December 13th, 3015
The waiting was, as usual, the worst part. Two days had been more than enough time to game out my intended display, and getting a pilot cleared by the Archon’s detail had been simple. Meidlin Levy had, after all, been honorably discharged from the LCAF after completing her tour of duty. With no criminal record, passing their other requirements must not have been too onerous, because I’d gotten approval back the same day.
That had left twenty-four hours for fretting and doublethinking.
“Ladies and Gentlemen, good morning and thank you for attending this demonstration,” Duke Michael Olivetti said, as behind him a Thunderbolt, clearly the -6O that was being tested, stomped its way to the beginning of the course.
“This new model of Thunderbolt includes a hybrid internal structure: the torso of the Battlemech maintains standard construction, but the limbs incorporate newly recovered EndoSteel which reduces their weight by a total of one and a half tons. Likewise, the armor, typically Ryerson 150, has been upgraded with Ceramite 650 Ferro-Fibrous plate. Despite being a ton lighter, it is actually a marginal improvement in protection over both legs and the central torso. The cockpit electronics have also been replaced with superior models equivalent to what the SLDF fielded prior to the First Succession War.
“The -5S includes fifteen single heat sinks. This amount has been reduced to only the ten in-engine sinks in the -6O, however, those heat sinks are all double-capacity ‘freezers,’ mitigating the -5S’s most significant shortcoming. For those of you with an adversarial relationship with mathematics, that’s a total of seven and a half tons of weight less than the -5S. What did we do with that extra mass to play with?
“Well, most importantly, we mitigated the consequences of an ammunition explosion; the magazine in the right torso is protected by Cellular Ammunition Storage Equipment. Those with keen observational powers will note that this leaves the energy armament intact, allowing for a fighting retreat, or, in a worst-case scenario, the chance at finishing an opponent before he can finish you.”
The Mechwarrior driving the war machine, painted with a standard LCAF forest camouflage, had taken his or her time, letting the various dignitaries get a good look at the machine, but they’d finally arrived.
“As for where the rest of that mass went, well, I’ll let you see for yourselves.”
With that, attention was firmly diverted from the stage as the Thunderbolt burst into motion, rapidly accelerating to its cruising speed of just over forty-three kilometers per hour. Almost immediately, a pair of targets popped up at long range. My experienced eye judged one to be right at the limits of PPC range and the other to be a bit beyond even that. Smoothly, the Mechwarrior let the Thunderbolt plant its right foot for stability before they fired the LB-10X and a trio of slugs shredded the nearer target even as the LRM-15 spat an eighth of a ton of ammunition at the further target.
Already the observers were sitting up straight, Mechwarriors taking in the tight shot placement on the close-up views of the nearer target and recognizing that they weren’t seeing an ordinary AC-10 in action. A smaller number were watching as the LRMs reduced the second target to scrap with another tight pattern and realizing that the ability to split fire like that was either the gunnery of an Elite Mechwarrior, or an indication that the Mech was capable of simultaneous multi-target tracking and engagement.
Before they really had a chance to process either of those revelations, the Thunderbolt moved into the second zone, and three targets popped up at short range on the ‘Mech’s left side. Without slowing, the Mechwarrior torso-twisted to the left to engage. The nearest target was representative of an infantry ambush, and it drew fire from both of the flamers on the ‘Mech’s left arm. The other two targets were set further back, separated by thirty meters or so. The one on the left, shaped like a Panther, caught a trio of 5cm lasers while the one on the right took a three round burst of cluster ammunition. The almost constant crackle of detonating submunitions made the resulting mess barely identifiable. Then, as soon as the weapons had cycled a similar set of targets popped up on the right of the course, and the Thunderbolt turned and serviced them equally smoothly. The Mechwarrior even added the fourth 5cm laser, installed on the left arm, once they were done with torching the infantry.
I could see senior officers, experienced Mechwarriors one and all, observe the lack of the characteristic loss of mobility that came from overheated myomers contracting irregularly. I could have run a fairly solid threat estimate based on how long it took for each individual’s jaw to drop.
With a final display of firepower, an Alpha Strike of the lasers, LRMs, and autocannon in the sweet spot of their ranges against a simulated Dragon, the demonstration drew to a close. The expressions on people’s faces really made me wish I was in a position to see the Archon’s reaction.
With that done, in the finest Lyran tradition, the entire assemblage broke for lunch and a short eternity of politicking.
If this was what Lyran social events were like, it confirmed everything I thought I knew when I regretfully turned Narcissa down. Assuming I did end up as Catachan’s Planetary Duke, I fully intended to bunker down in my closed military system and leave as seldom as I could manage. Avoiding the utter banality would be eminently worthwhile.
The average VIP was in something that at least approached LCAF Mess Dress, but some mouth-breathing imbecile had authorized personalization of their uniforms. As a result, each was custom-tailored with lots of gold braid, except for one unit with the insignia of a Zeus half buried in a swamp.
They were wearing silver braids in an entirely different design. That might have been enough to make them look respectably military in their bearing except that, frequently, their uniforms included accents in the same color as the sash they were using in place of an honest belt. Just the sashes, ‘school rags,’ each in the color of the military academy they graduated from, would have been disruptive enough, but with the accents, no two seemingly in the same place, all of them looked absurd.
Instead of a serious military force, they looked like a bunch of posturing peacocks. The way they were clustered around Michael Olivetti, each apparently trying to undermine the others for a better chance at obtaining some of the new Thunderbolts, made me think of a flock of vultures. Peacock-vultures.
Sounded like something Aang would try to hunt down and ride.
I was thankful that, so far as anyone in the room knew, I was a nonentity. I was free to hold my plate of canapés as a shield and ensure that the nearest wall didn’t fall in.
That probably made me one of the first to notice when a tall blonde in a very plain LCAF uniform entered the room.
She could have been, and, I realized, almost certainly was, a deliberate and direct contrast to the other officers in the room. Her uniform bore only the fist-patterned shoulder epaulets. None of the ‘fruit salad’ of campaign ribbons or medals that could be all but used as armor by some of the others. In fact, she was almost certainly ‘out of uniform’ by failing to display those ribbons and awards.
In that light, the display was ostentatious in its lack of ostentation. It also made it plain who the woman had to be. I despaired for the intelligence of the senior officers of the LCAF if the ones I’d seen today were representative. If all of them had seen her preferred manner of dress and still wore their own uniforms the way they did, it indicated either a supreme stubbornness or a complete imperviousness to subtlety.
They at least knew their place in the pecking order, or maybe it was the Archon’s sheer force of personality that moved them out of the way as she approached. In either case, it let her have words with Olivetti immediately, and the tone of those words was clearly positive. Then, she raised her voice.
“I am pleased to announce that the Thunderbolt model heretofore designated the TDR-6O has been accepted for service with the LCAF. Henceforth it will be known as the TDR-6S.”
Either she’d anticipated the applause that statement would create, or she was quick on her feet. She let the ovation run its course, then continued.
“Thanks to Duke Olivetti’s leadership and imagination and the peerless capability of Lyran industry, the Commonwealth has a weapon against the Combine the likes of which has not been manufactured in the Inner Sphere in centuries.
“And thanks to the dismantling of the corrupt cabal that my predecessor allowed to rise to control many of our corporations and regiments within the LCAF, I am pleased to announce that the LCAF will be able to purchase all of Olivetti Weaponry’s production of the -6S for incorporation into our elite regiments.”
The clapping at that announcement was much more pro forma. Still, for 6.6 million C-bills each and around fifty-six produced each year, that was no small chunk of change.
The -5S that Olivetti’s other line produced only cost 5.4 million each, though the Archon would be getting good value for the money.
“Now, as some of you are aware, our day is only half done. One of Duke Olivetti’s associates has reportedly managed to resurrect a formerly extinct design. We will be moving over to course three for this demonstration, which will be starting shortly. I’m told that it is a Medium-weight cavalry ‘Mech.”
Some of the officers looked interested at that, and I made careful note of those smart enough to be interested in a machine that could help offset one of the Commonwealth’s few weaknesses. The majority, however, noticeably lost interest.
That was fine. I could already tell that most of these officers were out of touch with the Archon’s interests and expectations. She was the one that I needed to impress here, and the fact that she had served in more than just the Mech service told me she’d have an appreciation for what I was going to be showing off.
XXXXX
When I took the stage for the presentation I could see a few officers display consternation. Apparently they recognized me and were annoyed at having missed the chance to speak with me earlier, but most were oblivious to the fact that I’d even been in the room. Once again, Archon Katrina’s location was obscured. I suppose they had to take the threat posed by a Battlemech seriously.
Then Captain Levy began her walk towards the starting line, and I could see a couple people start to look outraged. Probably time to start my presentation.
“I can see some of you recognize the make of Battlemech you’re here to see today. For those of you who don’t, this is a PX-4R Phoenix battlemech, though, as the lack of autocannon proves, not the earlier model by that name whose construction was cancelled by the Rim Worlds Republic.
“Unlike Amaris’s lackeys, the men and women who designed this as a modification of the -3R also had the sense and good taste to see Amaris for who and what he really was. That’s why they rebelled against him.
“Now while I could discuss the history of Catachan at length, that isn’t why you’re here today. The Phoenix is a 50-ton, cavalry Medium designed to put out an enemy formation’s eyes. With a cruising speed of just under 65 kph and a maximum speed of just over 97 kph as well as six standard jump jets, it has the agility to match the speed of Light Lance leaders like the Phoenix Hawk.”
Behind me, Meidlin reached the starting line and immediately began to accelerate, leaning forward and hitting the lowest pair of jump jets in a hellishly difficult maneuver that cut more than three seconds off the time it took to hit the ‘Mech’s top speed. A target at long range popped up, shaped like the rear view of a Cicada, and Captain Levy drilled it straight through the center torso with a bolt of man-made lightning. The hit was where a real ‘Mech would keep its gyro. It was the sort of shot that provided an instant mission-kill as the unbalanced gyro tore itself to pieces.
“Against more heavily armored, but slower enemies, it’s mobility provides other advantages.”
A second simulated ‘Mech popped up at close range, this one a Hunchback, complete with its signature assault autocannon. Meidlin hit her jump jets and vaulted over it, spinning in midair to land behind it. The trio of false armor panels covering her right arm laser, the similarly placed laser of the pair on the left arm, and one of the two torso lasers detached as the Captain blew the explosive bolts holding them in place. Then she let loose with a full Alpha Strike from 60 meters away.
The PPC and the laser that shared the arm with it scattered some, hitting the central torso rather than the left where the other four lasers hit. If she’d been lucky, the Hunchie still would have exploded from a magazine hit. If she wasn’t, then the ammo feeds were still wrecked and her shots to its rear had perhaps gotten a piece of the gyro or engine. Either way, the mech was combat ineffective with at best two lasers, one of them the head-mounted 3cm weapon.
“Oh, did I forget to mention, thanks to its Extra Light engine, it can mount a much heavier armament than a machine with its speed would otherwise be able to carry? Plus, with fifteen freezers it can still sink a standing Alpha Strike from all five of its 5cm lasers and its ERPPC. Detachable false armor panels can be utilized to allow for tactical surprise against an overconfident foe.”
Levy jumped the Mech back onto the path without firing, letting the heat sinks get the waste heat under control.
“However, due to the increased heat generated by the ERPPC, substantial even compared to a normal PPC, continuous use of the Jump Jets and full weapons load is contraindicated.”
Several barricades not unlike Mech-sized hurdles popped up in the next area. With the Phoenix’s wide-spread claw-like feet, she sidestepped some and vaulted others with her jets. Then an Atlas, sloppily painted in Combine colors for the demonstration, turned the corner into her path.
Immediately, she hit her jump jets, taking cover behind the closest barricade, and retreating under heavy simulated fire, replying with her own ERPPC, her weapons now in training mode.
I knew the simulation software would be piping damage taken on both Mechs to the screens in front of the audience so I continued.
“Of course, there are some fights a cavalry medium simply isn’t suited for. However, even then, nine and a half tons of advanced Ferro-Fibrous armor provide more protection than a Warhammer enjoys.”
Captain Levy continued to fall back, focusing her fire against the Atlas’s LRM launcher and trying to force it out of action, her jump jets taking her over barricades that the Atlas, treating them as impassable terrain, had to navigate around.
This part of the battle had been impossible to script. The Atlas and its pilot had been borrowed from Katrina’s Royal Guard detachment and instructed to do his damndest to shoot the Mech he was facing down. He’d made a good go of it in the initial moments of the short-range fight, but his big assault autocannon had gone home against the Phoenix’s left leg, and Levy had taken care to shield it afterwards by presenting the right side of her Mech via strategic torso twisting. By the time Meidlin made it back to the beginning of the obstacle course, neither had suffered an armor penetration, though the Atlas’s torso armor was a mess and Meidlin’s right leg, arm, and torso were speckled with the burnt orange of serious armor damage.
“As you can see, even in an unfavorable matchup, the combination of mobility, long-range armament, and unexpectedly heavy armor allows for a pilot to preserve themselves and their machine to trouble the enemy another day while wearing down their defenses. And if an enemy were so foolish as to allow themselves to be drawn into a pursuit, long-range skirmishing quickly shifts the odds into the Phoenix’s favor.”
As Meidlin turned and bowed her ‘Mech towards the stands, the simulation interface changed to show the range brackets of long-range missile fire versus the ERPPC the Phoenix mounted.
“The Catachan Arms Corporation would like to thank you for your attention, and especially to thank Duke Olivetti for hosting this event,” I said, and calmly departed the stage.
XXXXX
When the Archon entered the room Olivetti and I were waiting in, her expression was controlled but her eyes were intent. Both of us popped to our feet without needing to consult our brains.
“Technicians from the Royal Guards have inspected the second Battlemech you brought with you, and things seem to be in order. If they find that the one used in the demonstration is in similarly good shape, you will have approval for the design,” she relayed.
“Now, how many of them can you build, and what is your price point?” I had thought I was prepared for her presence. I rapidly discovered I hadn’t been.
“Uh, couple issues with production, or rather one issue with a couple parts. Catachan is a relatively heavy-gravity world, and just rescaling final assembly tooling hasn’t worked as well as we hoped it would. As a result, we’ll likely need to stop operations at points during the year to make adjustments to the line as we come up with solutions better than ‘pull workers off other projects to haul on hand lines to manually move the chassis from installation point to installation point.’”
Olivetti shot me a look.
“Hey, I told you the damn motors burned out trying to move the new cradle. We were on a time crunch. Baron Jones has probably already gotten that problem fixed, but we keep running into gremlins.”
“This is a new line, then?” The Archon inquired.
“The chassis and final assembly elements are new,” I stated, nodding affirmatively before clarifying. “All the component lines date from when the planet was controlled by Amaris.
“As for production…” I paused for a moment. I’d had a while to think about this, but I still wasn’t totally sure. Unfortunately, without being able to get reports from back home, all I could do was guess based on the last numbers I’d gotten from Baron Jones.
“I can guarantee 52 a year,” I finally decided on. If we were at the point of only making one Mech a week, we had serious ongoing problems, and I didn’t think Sigmund Jones would let that situation stand. “I’m ninety-odd percent sure we can match Duke Olivetti’s numbers for Thunderbolt production in the upcoming year. Our ambition is to average ten tons of production per day, but it will almost certainly take a year or two to hit that benchmark, if we can hit it at all.”
Katrina gave me a serious ‘sizing you up’ sort of look, then relaxed, just a little.
“A Hussar Regiment. Between the two of you, you’re talking about a Hussar Regiment of advanced Battlemechs each year,” she said and shook her head like she wasn’t entirely sure she could believe what she was saying. She also finally sat down, which allowed us to return to our seats.
“And the price?” she asked.
“Just shy of ten million C-bills each,” I said, and got to watch the Archon’s eyes bug out. Before she could muster a response, I held up a data chip.
“The breakdown is on here, but I swear, I’m not gouging you,” I said.
“Another million C-bills seems like not just a fair price, but a good one for the increased capabilities the -5S brings to the table. What could possibly make a ‘Mech fifteen tons lighter cost almost a third again as much?” the Archon demanded.
That was a question I really was ready for.
“The short answer is, ‘the XL engine.’ The long answer… look, there is no such thing as ‘good enough’ when it comes to building XLFEs. You either get everything exactly correct, or the first time you power it on, you discover you’ve built a very big, very expensive firework.
“Our initial failure rate in testing was two out of every three,” I told them, and watched them wince. “So, yes, for at least this year, you’re paying not just for the engine that’s in the ‘Mech, but the two other engines we built that explosively disassembled themselves when we powered them up the first time.
“That is the bad news,” I continued, “The good news is that we’re already down to a fifty percent failure rate instead of a sixty-six percent failure rate, which is why the price isn’t
over ten million C-bills. So, if that trend continues, starting next year, I will be able to knock the price tag down by a million C-bills. Again, if the trend continues, the final price ought to be pretty close to Duke Olivetti’s new Thunderbolt. When you consider that you’re getting a machine fifty-percent faster with greater range and similar close-in damage and armor, that’s a damn solid price,” I asserted.
“Except that to get there, you’re expecting the LCAF to foot the bill for your research,” she said, and oh goody I was now negotiating against the frigging Archon.
She was pressing hard, but on the other hand, she kind of had a point, and I had things to negotiate with. Except on the other, other hand she was probably also using this to take my measure, so I couldn’t fold like a house of cards despite the fact that she was
the frigging Archon. And on the other, other, other hand, I had a reason for the price beyond ‘so I can stay open and keep selling you Battlemechs.’
“Yes,” I told her, more firmly than I really thought I’d be able to, “because once we’ve got the bugs worked out for the production, we can use the capacity we’re no longer expending as expensive fireworks to put engines in a second line of Battlemechs.”
There was a pause as she processed that.
“You have my attention,” she finally said.
“Baron Jones is already working on turning a second design from working examples and blueprints into a production line, and since he’s getting to reuse quite a lot of the information that he’s already learned from getting the Phoenix working, he’s having a lot less trouble this time around.”
“Design specifications?” Katrina asked, once again deeply intent.
“Fifty-ton cavalry Medium. Same movement profile. Drops the ERPPC for a pair of extended-range 8cm lasers. Similar secondary armament. The original had a quintet of 5cm lasers, but we’re working on replacing the one in the left arm with a flamer. It mounts the same weight of armor, but fewer heat sinks; it’s designed as a bracket fighter. Drop an 8cm laser in close in favor of the disco ball of lasery death from the 5cm weapons.
“It’s shorter-ranged than the Phoenix in exchange for more and more consistent damage from its main guns across the range it has. It’s intended to bully Lights and lighter Mediums and also see off infantry.” I summarized.
“That also sounds like capability the LCAF desperately needs,” Katrina admitted before inquiring, “Is this a variant of the Phoenix, or something else entirely?”
“The latter,” I replied. “Even with the rework for fitting a flamer in the left arm, Baron Jones decided it would be less work than the gyro calculations for modifying the Phoenix.”
Katrina considered that for a minute.
“Lasers on opposite arms?” she asked.
I nodded.
“He’s probably right, then. Major gyro changes … just getting that math nailed down could add a year to your build.”
Clearly thinking deep thoughts, Archon Katrina turned her head away from us, and for a long moment one of those natural lulls in conversation developed.
After about thirty seconds, she turned back to me.
“Very well, I can find the room in the budget for your Phoenixes, at least as long as prices do continue to come down, but I will be wanting all of them. And I’ll want you formally attached to the Commonwealth. The Norns efficiency is down with the number of them trying to figure out which old Rim world we missed a factory complex on.”
That was pretty fair, but …
“I’ll want some sort of clause about being allowed to make up any losses we take.”
Katrina shot me a look at that.
“You’re expecting to see combat? I was under the impression your company was occupied as site security.”
I blinked in surprise.
“I’m sorry, I thought you knew, since you showed up with the 8th Donegal Guards. My Company is more of a Regiment now, and when Archduke Kelswa went looking for that other Mech Battalion your officers demanded, Narcissa Olivetti got us in contact. I’ve got an Aerospace wing and a Lance shy of two Battalions on-world. We’re going to be involved in the operation to reclaim Sevren.”
XXXXX
A/N: Thanks again to Seraviel, Lordsfire, and Yellowhammer for beta reading, idea bouncing, and canon compliance checking. This chapter is vastly improved by their efforts.
. Well can't have everything. And Vulcan 6N would be a real murderbird in this age, I would only move the forward firing medium to the aft.
