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Desert Wind, Condor Class DropShip
Enroute to Novo Franklin
Uncharted Star System
Periphery border of Draconis Combine
1st Sept 3079, 1100 hours local time


Captain Syed Alwi pushed himself off his command seat as the Invader Class JumpShip that the Desert Wind was attached to started the slow process unfurling its massive solar energy jump sails to recharge its Kearny Fuchida hyperdrive. The JumpShip had just made a thirty light year leap from yet another unoccupied star system along the periphery of the Outworlds Alliance. It had been a very long trip indeed. While there had been little possibility of attacks from the Alliance itself, or Clan Snow Raven naval assets that were known to be present, the DropShip Captain had been less than comfortable with the fact that the Invader Class JumpShip had only a pair of Sabre light Aerospace Fighters in its hold for protection. While his own Condor Class DropShip has its own armaments, it would not count for much against even a small fleet of pirate fighters. The fact that the other DropShips that the Invader JumpShip was ferrying was a virtually unarmed Buccaneer cargo hauler and an equally lightly armed and armoured Mule Class DropShip did little to ease his fears. Still, they had been travelling through uncharted space for the best part of a month with no unfriendly encounters. Captain Alwi prayed to Allah that it would remain this way for the entire trip to Novo Franklin.

Without gravity – artificial or otherwise, to hold him down, the DropShip Captain drifted through the narrow hallway that passes through the fire control systems and communications gear. With practiced ease, he grabbed hold of one of the very few seats in the latter and steadied himself behind the communications specialist buckled in. The bespectacled man was already downloading the incoming message. Within short minutes, a small disc containing the information, as well as a printed film copy of the report was handed over to the Captain.

Pushing off again, Syed moved through one of the two infantry training bays onboard the Condor, and headed towards upper most deck of his ship. While a small lounge was situated there, the Azami Captain was not looking for recreation at the moment. Instead, he headed to the conference room, where half a dozen men were already waiting for him.

The blast doors to the surprisingly large room hissed open after Syed palmed the lock to it. The security systems had been deactivated for now while the Desert Wind was in transition. As per protocol, it would only be activated in the event of approaching enemy ships, boarding action, or when the DropShip was berthed or landed. Of course, the pair of stern looking and heavily armed soldiers at the door was also of considerable deterrent to anyone seeking to eavesdrop or tried to barge in on any conversations within without permission.

Even though Syed was of one of the Azami clans, he still shuddered slightly as he entered the room. All was silent except for the humming of the air filtration system of the room. Seated around the oval conference table were six officers, all with stern and serious looking faces. Not all were of Azami stock of course. Even the Akrab Legions, the most well known of Azami regiments had took in none Shi’ite Islams into their fold over the years.

Unlike the Akrab Legions, who had over the centuries been inducted into part of the Draconis Combine Mustered Soldiery, the Silver Sabres were a pure mercenary outfit. Originally made up entirely of Tukayyid citizens, the Silver Sabres stated out as a mixed arms regiments consisting of a company of BattleMechs, a battalion of combat and support vehicles as well as over two battalions of foot soldiers. Following the tradition of their forefathers, the Silver Sabres specialized in fast assaults and night attacks, and showing a preference of operating in desert terrain. However, that also became their downfall as the lighter and less armoured equipment that populated their ranks suffered extensive losses when they first came up against the Clans and their advanced technology. While the Sabres were not completely destroyed, they were severely hammered, losing all their BattleMechs in the process.

Reduced to only a company of hover tanks and two of foot infantry, the Silver Sabres had since avoided contracts against the Clans, picking up contracts against less powerful foes, while absorbing two other smaller units along the way that were chewed up pretty badly by the Clan onslaught as well. With Tukayyid devastated as a proxy battlefield between ComGuards and the Clans, than subsequently absorbed into what was now the Rasalhague Dominion, the Silver Sabres had not been able to return to their home world. With most of Azami warriors preferring the prestige offered by signing up with the Akrab Legion regiments, the Sabres had no choice but to resort to taking in recruits who were not of Azami roots, a mix of Davion and Rasalhague soldiers in the infantry, while most of the Azami in the unit crewed the company of hover tanks. Still, they had been able to recruit small numbers of warriors from other traditional Azami worlds of Algedi, Camlann, Al Na'ir, Markab, Dabih, and even Arkab who shared their steadfast refusal to lay their allegiance at the feet of the Draconis Combine.

Captain Syed saluted. “Ah Shallah O Wahli Kum.”

“Wahli Kum Shallam. And the Peace of Allah be with you as well Captain.” A lean man at the far end of the conference table responded in the customary reply. Not a large figure by any stretch of the imagination, he nonetheless emitted an aura of strength, power and steel. “I trust our trip toward Novo Franklin proceeds uninterrupted?”

“By the Blessings of Allah, indeed we do Major.” Syed smiled slightly. “It would take us another three weeks or so to reach our destination.”

Major Hassan Al-Sabayah nodded, than shifted his glance slightly to the small package in the DropShip Captain’s hand. Syed nodded in reply and handed it to one of the Silver Sabres officer sitting closest to the door. The man, wearing the bars of a Lieutenant accepted the disc and film with a slight bow.

“I have to see to task of preparing the Desert Wind for the next leg of our voyage. I shall leave you and your officers to your duties Major.” Syed saluted again before turning around to leave the room.

The other officers waited silently as Major Hassan scanned through the reports. No trace of emotion hinted at his thoughts. Finishing, he pushed the small disc into a small holovid projector built into the conference table. Green lights flickered before a map flashed into view.



The Major stood and started to pace around the table while all the other officers laid their eyes on the map on display. “As you see from the layout of Novo Franklin forwarded to us by our brethren, our employers have made considerable advances since the last report two weeks ago.” Hassan started. “While the strength and numbers of the New Saars Militia, and the comparative weakness of their opposition accounted for much of their success, Lieutenant Fajr reported that War Master Gould had not taken to listening to his advice and those of our people on the ground.”

“Does that mean that the New Saars Militia were much stronger and capable than we were initially led to believe?” One of the Lieutenant asked with a frown.

“I do not believe so.” The Silver Sabres commander replied. “Fajr-bhai reported that they had ran into unexpected resistance in several theatres from the United Defence Forces supplemented by the Black Stars.”

“The Black Stars?!” Another officer spat. “They are a bunch of low lives and no hopers!”

The Major’s features remained impassive as he threw a short glance at the speaker. A non-Azami, Lieutenant George Fynn’s comments were ironic to say the least since he himself was a reject from the disreputable Black Angus Boys. If not for the fact that he has had considerable experience in infantry support roles during his time with the Black Angus Boys and the Eighteenth Marik Militia before that, and most importantly, he was available, Fynn would not even be considered in the Sabres.

“Unfortunately, these low lives and no hopers seemed to be able to blunt New Saars operations whenever they appeared. In fact, Fajr-bhai was in the view that the Black Stars was the driving force behind the formation of the UDF in the first place, as well as our opponents’ own increasing capabilities.”

“As of the date of this report, the New Saars Militia command was planning on a series of attacks planned on pushing back the UDF lines, while our brethren on planet would be trying to lure the Black Stars into several ambushes and traps.” Hassan informed the rest of his people. “Our employers might have greater numbers, but they also have more grounds to cover. In addition, the Lieutenant reported that more and more of New Saars troops were being tied down to garrison captured territories due to unrest and the occasional uprisings the War Master have had to deal with.”

“I believe our people have had to bear witness to some unsavoury acts of atrocities committed by the New Saars Militia previously.” Captain Medhi Zahir commented. “Were these still ongoing?”

For the first time, a slight scowl spread across Hassan’s face – the first sign of any emotion at all. Medhi was one of the most experienced soldier within the Silver Sabres. Not one of the original members of the mercenary unit, the Al Na'ir citizen had signed up with the Sabres half a decade ago, proving his honour and abilities time and again.

“Sadly, these had been on the rise.” He replied. “It was a vicious circle – the New Saars forces crushed their opposition with overwhelming force, commit atrocities against the defenders and the defeated population, which in turn prompted them to rise up against Gould and his people.” Hassan shook his head. “Fajr-bhai and his team tried on several occasions to dissuade such actions, but to no avail.”

Medhi frowned. “So why are we working for Gould than?”

“Because we already signed the contract on Terra.” He said simply. “And because Gould offered us generous payment and full salvage rights to captured equipment.”

“The Silver Sabres are better than that.” Medhi insisted.

Hassan stopped his pacing and looked at his long time comrade, before the other faces before him. Some were nodding in agreement. Others, including Fynn, were giving Medhi disgusted looks. It was a question Hassan had struggled to answer himself since he learned of the actions of the New Saars Militia. They had no honour, and their acts went against everything Hassan believed in. However, the cold truth of the fact was that the Silver Sabres needed a job, and the Novo Franklin one was the best on offer. Even if their employers were of low moral fibre, Hassan Al-Sabayah and the Silver Sabres were not.

“We shall see what we can do when we arrive on Novo Franklin.” He declared. “Lieutenant Fajr and his small team might not be able to persuade our employers from their acts of terror, but the presence of the entire Silver Sabres might have a more... convincing effect.”

“I hope to Allah you are correct Major.” Medhi nodded slightly. “For I doubt even Allah would forgive us all for being a part of such despicable acts.”

So do I Medhi, so do I.

------

Mercenary Ward AKA 'the Barracks' / 'M-Ward'
Department of Mercenary Management
Star League Defense Force
Alice Springs Castle Brian Complex
Central Australia, Terra
1st September 3079

“And it’s been nice doin’ business with ya too.” Harding smiled broadly at the other man. Displaying the exact opposite emotion on his face, the man’s sneer was restricted to just that – a sneer, rather than a lunge toward the Black Stars mercenary. It was not because Harding himself was physically intimidating, or was seen with any sort of weapon. Rather, it was because this was Alice Springs Castle Brian Complex on Terra, and he and his unit risk being heavily chastised for any acts of violence and misconduct. Furthermore, Harding had ‘won’ their wager according to their agreement. The fact that the man found loopholes in it was another matter altogether. Brought before the DMM, he would win any legal proceedings hands down.

“Enjoy your prize while you can, you son of a bitch.” The man snarled. “I’ll be back to reclaim it soon.”

“You’d better make sure whoever you send can pilot a ‘Mech better than an academy cadet than.”Harding laughed. “Reed was nearly falling asleep in the simulator pod even while he was in that so called fight.”

The other man stalked off while Reed walked up from behind Harding. “I do not believe I said those things that you said I did.”

Harding did not turn around. Instead, he looked at the two pieces of paper in his hands. “Yeah, but I KNOW you weren’t getting any challenge in that bout.”

“Aff.” Reed looked at the retreating figure of the MechWarrior he had just defeated in the simulators. “I do believe, however, that our friend there would come back for a rematch.”

“It’ll be too late by then.” Harding dismissed Reed’s concern with a wave of his hand. “The transfer would have been completed, and I would’ve spent the cash.”

Reed raised a questioning eye brow at that.

“What?” Harding replied to the wordless query. “The ownership for that squad of Grey Death Light Scout Battle Armour suits would have been transferred under the name of the Jack O Lanterns.”

“I know that.” Reed responded. “I thought that money was from the Black Stars’ coffers.”

Harding shrugged his shoulders. “I withdrew the ante for the bet from the coffers, but that doesn’t mean that what I won would go back to it.”

“No?”

“Neg.” Harding winked at the Clansman. “I just have to return the original two million c-bills I withdrew. The winnings are all mine.”

Reed nodded. “Ours.”

A frown crept onto Harding’s brow. “Sorry?”

“Ours.” Reed repeated himself. “I won that fight. It only stands to reason that I have a share in it, quiaff?”

Harding stared at his companion for a moment, before breaking out in a boisterous laughter again. “Aff, my friend, aff.” He wrapped an arm around Reed’s shoulders. “Now, let’s go send a message out to Zhao about our successful acquisition of that squad of BA suits before we go paint the Entertainment Ward red eh?”


Entertainment Ward
Department of Mercenary Management
Star League Defense Force
Alice Springs Castle Brian Complex
Central Australia, Terra
2nd September 3079
0200 hours local time

"... ‘un ya wouldn' believe da kinda muny they're throwin' around."

"Be careful on the terms Luca. It's way out there in the Deep Periphery, and everyone knows about the kind of crap they get us mercs into. Hell, they might even make sure that we'll not be alive enough to collect our pay cheque."

"Bah! Us few ol' war dogs are goin' in together fer dis un. From what we's had found out, these people have only half a freakin' cumpany of ‘dem 'Mechs - and all of ‘dems are huv rusted!"

"True. But I heard the Black Stars are working for the other side aren't they? It seems that they are the reason our employers haven't been making much headway."

"Black Stars!? ‘Dem pieces of crap ain't worth da dirt beneath me boots! Mark me words Gustav, we'll win ‘dis one - with me pair of hands and one foot tied!"

Harding continued to gulp down the shots of whiskey, his hands not once stopping in their groping of the well endowed woman on his lap. Opposite him, Reed had been nursing the tall glass of a lightning blue concoction appropriately named a PPC. It was named not only for its colour that was similar to the beam discharged from a particle projectile canon. The drink had an insane level of alcoholic content - over eighty percent, and was notorious for delivering a blast to the drinker's brain if it was downed in a single go, scrambling his or her senses.

Harding reluctantly pushed the more than tipsy woman from him. She flopped onto her back over to the side of the sofa bench that they were seated on, exposing quite a lot of herself in the process. "Ops." She pressed a hand to her lips and giggled. Harding winked at her and slapped her generous bottom. "Wait a bit for me will ya darlin'? I'll be back shortly." The woman nodded once, before closing her eyes and started to snore.

The commander of the Storm Crows pushed her legs off his lap and dusted himself. He dipped his right hand into his own glass and proceeded to splash some of the whiskey onto his face and front of his shirt. Satisfied with his work, he picked up his half full glass and two third emptied bottle and swaggered towards the next table.

"Evenin' gents!" He called out with a lop sided grin to the two man seated there. "How's yer night been? Good?"

One of the man looked up from his chair and grinned. "As good as un coulda wish fer."

"Congrats to yer gents then eh?" Harding stumbled forward and started to refill their nearly empty glasses. "From da looks of things, I'd put out a limp of mine and guess dat yer fine lookin' gentlemen are Mechjocks?"

Both men gratefully picked up their freshly filled glass and threw him a salute. "Yer got a good eye m' friend. Me buddy here's from Gray's Ghost, and meself was formerly of da Tiger Sharks battalion."

"Ah, I'm in excellent company then, what with a pair of MechWarriors from highly reputable units." Harding nodded with a foolish smile on his face. Anyone in the know who listened in on the conversation would have baulked at the Gray's Ghosts and Tiger Sharks being even remotely referred to as reputable. Consisting of career misfits drummed out from the AFFS, the Gray's Ghosts had broken three contacts in their short history, and two more cases were currently under arbitration. Furthermore, this did not take in to account the many times they had failed to provide cover to friendly units during combat. To round up their unsavoury reputation, the Ghosts had always been noted to be apparently highly successful at crowd control and counter-insurgency contracts, with accusations of atrocities committed by members of the Ghosts during such operations.

Considered by many just one step away from banditry, the Tiger Sharks had long been plying their trades in the Chaos March which had provided the Sharks with rich pickings for over two decades. With myriad factions in the area desperate to hire some muscle - no matter how unreliable such muscle might be, the Sharks had gone wherever they had believed there was plunder to be had. One of their favourite techniques for securing employment was to arrive unannounced on a Chaos March world where two or more small groups were at war. Each faction would thus be faced with the danger that somebody else will offer the Sharks employment. The Sharks would further stir the pot by paying courtesy calls to the leaders of each faction, knowing that sooner or later someone will offer them a contract, even if it was just to remove the danger that an enemy may do so. By keeping the contract lengths short, the Tiger Sharks can easily switch sides in local conflicts several times, creating a frenzied bidding war to drive up the price to acquire— or retain— the Sharks’ services.

And they were calling the Black Stars pieces of crap.

Refilling their glasses again, Harding slid into an empty seat at their table. "I take it from yer celebrations that you gents had recently found lucrative employment then?"

"You could take it indeed." Gustav replied with a wide grin. "We're going into the Deep Periphery to spank a few back water asses and get ourselves loaded with cash and salvage."

"Deep Periphery?" Harding gasped with an overly exaggerated look of horror. "But I heard that there's nothin' worth fightin' fer out there! Loads of genecaste mutants and unwashed women though. Why would such a world require the services of warriors such as yer good selves?"

Luca grinned back at Harding. "Us warriors were hooked up ta dis War Master, or something like dat. His gonna pay us real good and propa with muny an' salvage."

"As he should since he'd better not pay you with goats and cows." Harding nodded.

"His army's not all THAT bad." Gustav continued. "We heard he's actually got his hands onto a couple of 'Mechs and loads of tanks. And of course, his forces are bursting at the seams with infantry."

"Like all Periph worlds out there." Luca chipped in with a look of disgust as he swallowed another drink. Harding quickly refilled the glass.

Gustav laughed. "Anyhoo, this War Lord..."

"War Master." Luca interjected.

"Whatever." Gustav slapped his companion on his shoulder before looking back at Harding. "This War Master's been on a campaign to claim the entire world under his rule. He seemed to be pretty successful until the opposition hired a bunch of mercs to help them out. You know of the Black Stars?"

"Never heard of 'em." Harding replied with a completely straight face.

"Well, these mercs are a bunch of losers and no hopers from all over the known human universe. I even heard that many of 'em Stars are criminals." Gustav started.

Harding's eyes widened in shock. "Criminals?! NO way!"

"Yes way." Gustav shot back. "For some reason, these people actually stemmed the War Master's advances since their arrival. With more than sixty percent of the world already under his control, he REALLY didn't want to stop with his dream uncompleted."

"I completely understand." Harding nodded.

"While his opponents have at most a lance or so of 'Mechs, our employer himself already has at least half a dozen. To end his conquest quickly, he's hiring a company of 'Mechs to reinforce his own forces." Gustav straightened himself in his seat. "And that's where WE come in."

"Should be cake walk for you and your friends than eh?" Harding winked at the pair of heavily intoxicated men.

"Bah!" Luca rolled his eyes before leaning forward and curling a finger at Harding, motioning for him to lean forward as well. He tried to whisper with eyes darting around the room, but all he managed was to croak out his words, looking like the complete fool that Harding judged he was. "Before da end of da operations, meself and Gustav here are gonna make sure a number of those other Mechjocks run into.... accidents."

"Oh?" Harding pulled back, eyes searching those of the other two men seated around the table.

"Yeah." Luca drooled on. "Da less of us left, da more the muny to go 'round."

Harding tried to reflect the loop sided smile on both Luca and Gustav's face. He touched the tip of his nose with a finger, before bringing it down to his lips. "I wish you gentlemen all the best than. Good hunting out there, and may you return with more than a jingling purse and bulging pockets." He pushed his by now nearly empty bottle of whiskey towards the men. "Here, my treat."

As he left the companionship of the two free lance MechWarriors and returned to his own table, Reed looked pass at him towards the pair of men. "What was that all about?"

"Intel gathering." Harding replied simply. He looked at the still snoring woman on the sofa. "Let's go, I've got more digging to do and information to send." He tore his eyes from the woman reluctantly as he turned to leave. Reed stood up and followed. "Zhao and Ten-Bears are just gonna love this piece of information." Harding murmured as he pulled out his hand from one of his shirt pockets. It was a small black box - a simple voice recorder.

Outpost Gladius
UDF/New Saars Front Lines
Dragan Duchy, Novo Franklin
3 Sep 3079, 0630 Hours Local Time

David peered out into the morning mists. As the obscuring fog burned away in the early morning sunlight, he could begin to see a wide open expanse of burned wheat fields and pockmarked ground.

“You can see the problem then?” The local noble’s man spoke to him. “Any advance we would try to make must cross the open ground. We’d lose over half the troops before we even got close enough to fire back, and our opponents have more troops on their side of the lines here to begin with.”

David nodded as he turned to face the man. “Does the situation hold true in the reverse? Can you hold here if they decide to push?”

The young man looked around to make sure no-one was listening before speaking softly. “My father would have me tell you yes… but in truth, I doubt it. Our weapons are in good shape, but we have not enough of them, nor do we have enough trained men to carry them. We’ll take a toll of anyone who tries to cross the field, but…. they have the bodies to spend, where we do not. If they come, they’ll pay for it in blood, but I don’t think we can hold.”

David nodded, his face neutral. “Thank you, that matches with what I had already seen. You have some decent men here, but they are outnumbered and don’t have the equipment or training for that sort of fighting.”

Looking back out over the fields, David kept going. “Which makes it unfortunate that I have to let you know that Intel says they’ll be making a push right here about a week from now.”

The young man paled. “Does Father know?”

Ten-Bears nodded. “He’s on his way to the capitol to try to shake loose some re-enforcements for you…. But he won’t get any. We just don’t have the bodies or equipment to send right now. New Saars is pushing in several locations along the lines, and the cupboard is bare.” He turned to look at the young man, his face very serious. “If we had them to send, we would, but we don’t.”

The young man drew himself up. “So what do we do? Besides die defending our lands?”

David smiled like a predator. “Well…. there are a couple things…”


Black Stars Compound
Campus Carinthia
Carantania Principality, Novo Franklin
8th September 3079 0800 hours local time

James stood and reached out his hand for the information package Ten Bears had walked in with. Ten Bears handed him the package. James nodded in response. With the package in hand, James turned to face his group, raised his left hand made a twirling motion with his left index finger and then pointed it at the exit. The group, his group, Trouble Inc stood and started filing out of the room.

They had been through a lot over the last few months. There had been the deep strike against the Anjuran air force. All of the recon patrols, and all of the atrocities they had witnessed, more, they even had to record and report on them.

The New Saars military had been fairly inventive on new ways to torture and kill those who had offered any resistance and others just because they were convenient. The usual rapes and beatings were there along with a few shootings. They also included burnings but were apparently not impressed with their victims short endurance. Then they worked on tying their victims between two trucks and ripping them apart. Then they moved to a despicable method of tying people hand to foot end to end, forming a human chain, and then driving over them with a tracked vehicle. Starting at the feet and slowly driving over them. All the while, the other villagers, who had been rounded up, were forced to watch as their fellow villagers were very slowly run over and crushed. The others in the chain could hear the pleadings first then the screams and then the mind wrenching agonizing, almost inhuman screams and could also feel the jerking and pulling on the ropes and the vibrations of the tremulous muscles as the person below them on the chain was crushed. All the while realizing that it was only a matter of time, and then they would be the ones doing the screaming and dying. Their pleadings started earlier and earlier as the tracked vehicle worked its way up the chain.

The screams did not fall on deaf ears, they fell onto ears who relished in hearing the pleadings, relished the screams of the dying. The soldiers were making sure every peasant watched while all the while reminding them that they would treat anyone who dared raise even their voice against them to the same or worse. All the while hearing the bones crunch, and seeing blood pour out from the pressure ruptured wounds.

It was hard on James’ pilots to see that, or even the after effects of it. He knew that these scenes would play hell on their minds. Sleeping would become more difficult. James knew this because as a pilot he had flown some of those missions as well. As the units CO he had had to watch the videos that had been recorded and read his other pilots reports.

Now he had in his hands another mission, one to strike at the enemy, one to reach in and cut a major artery. He didn’t need to look at his people to know they wanted a piece of this mission. They had seen so much and felt helpless to do anything to stop it. Now they were being given a chance to do something about it.

Outside the building, Eugene only asked one question.

"When do you want to start?" Eugene

"Two hours. Coffee and sandwiches will be needed. Get a squad from Conti or Gallagher to be sentries. We will also need a rep from them for their part." James

Eugene nodded and turned off to make things happen.


<Scene break>

Empty Hangar

The security officer gave a nod and then turned to follow the two men with all the electronic gear out of the hangar. His nod indicated that things were good to go. No listening or camera devices had been detected. As the three a new person entered. He walked up to James, saluted and spoke.

"Corporal Hanscom, reporting as requested, sir."

"At ease corporal." James

The man only relaxed slightly.

James inwardly shrugged. Probably a little nervous around all of the officer types in the room.

"Good to have you here Corporal. We will need some of your knowledge in a little while. There will be sandwiches and coffee here in a bit. Feel free to help yourself. Once this meeting starts we don’t stop ‘til we are done. Also help yourself to a chair." James

"Yes sir!" Hanscom

James turned to face the person walking in.

Seeing that he had been dismissed, Hanscom turned to find the head and then a chair.

"Sr. Tech Masterson, what are you doing here?" James

"Well sir, I am here as your technical consultant. Your XO said that you would probably want one." Masterson

James chuckled.

"He’s right, I do think I might need one. Food should be here shortly. Grab a seat and feel free to help yourself when the food arrives." James

Just then, Slim, Pee Wee and Bo Peep walked in. They were all laughing. Slim was talking animatedly briefly and then they were all laughing again. Bo Peep, punched Slim hard on the shoulder. Slim recoiled from the punch and gave one of those what did I say shrugs. They turned and saw James and hushed up and quickly walked by to the folding chairs that had been set up.

James gave Slim a look. Slim caught it and gave a wry grin.

James heard a noise and turned his head to see Billy Ray and Bubba Joe walk in. they were wearing those weird sleeveless multi coloured shirts again and tan coloured soft covers with the Black Stars logo emblazoned on them. They seemed to be in a serious discussion about female figures if Bubba Joe’s hand gestures were any indications.

Bremmerhof was next with Darnel and Constantine just behind him. They just filed in and grabbed a seat. Whitman, Wong and Pagano walked in carrying the trays of food and coffee. James pointed to where they were to go. James walked over to the three as they were setting them down.

"Have these been scanned? James

"Scanned?" Pagano

"For listening devices." James

All three gave each other a quick look.

"No." Whitman

James slowly closed his eyes and opened them.

"Ain’t nobody touched these trays since we picked them up from the mess hall Boss." Pagano

"And we have some civilians working the mess hall now. Get someone over here to scan them, now." James

Whitman turned and left.

Johnson and Rhicter filtered in. They started to head towards the food but Wong waived them off. So they headed toward the rest of the group and grabbed a seat.

James was walking back to the group when he noticed their heads starting to turn. Then he heard a footfall and he knew who it was even before he turned his head. It was Linda Farnsworth AKA "Shakes." It was pretty obvious that the call sign she had been given (most pilots don’t get to choose that, it is chosen for them) wasn’t due to a nervous condition. She had a lot to work with and it showed. James knew there were many holovid porn stars that had paid to have what "Shakes" had been gifted with. This of course made it difficult for her to be taken seriously and was most likely the primary reason as to why she had been available for hire. It was also why she worked and trained so much harder than her fellow pilots, in an attempt to be taken seriously.

James decided to head back to the food station while Shakes grabbed a chair. He perused the food selection from a meter out but did not touch it. He gave up on that at the same time as Alice and Gunther entered. They appeared to be in discussion, on what he couldn’t tell. Gunther was in khakis while Alice was in another of her outfits. A pink skirt with a white fluffy dog with black feet and nose. Her white shirt had another dog on it as well. The pink scarf and … glasses?

They had just taken their seats when the sweep team came back in and started scanning the food table. It only took a few seconds to scan the food area. They paused for a few moments to look over a carafe, and then they proceed to leave. It was only as an afterthought that the team lead nodded the all clear before leaving.

James looked over the carafe that they had paused at and did not see anything except a small circular spot that looked like it had had a sticker freshly peeled off. He put the carafe down as the last two people for this planning session arrived. Hawk and Markus were walking in together. James looked over at his crew and jerked his thumb, giving the all clear to hit the food, and then proceeded over to Markus and Eugene.

"Glad to see you could make it Markus." James

"Sweep is done in here, we will start shortly." James

Eugene shakes his head.

"I saw them leaving, they were sweeping the ground outside." Eugene

"Wonder who lost the Novo coin?" Markus

James squinted in puzzled thought for a moment and then slightly shrugs.

"If something is lost they will find it." James

James smiles at Markus.

"So the Jack O Lanterns want in on this little road trip? I didn’t think it was a big enough deal to get your guys attention. It is just a simple supply raid." James

Markus laughed at James comments.

"A simple supply raid huh? A bit of an understatement isn’t it?" Markus

Markus raised his hands to fend off any comments from James before continuing.

"Basically we just need taxi service. We have our own mission to perform while you’re doing yours. I am not sure if I will be much help to you in your planning session but if I can be I will." Markus

James knew these guys were ex special forces, the tat’s were a big clue. If they had a mission, things might be a little more interesting than he wanted. James just smiled.

"Well I’m going to grab a quick bite before we start then we can get this thing spun up." James

James made a proffering of letting Markus go first.

Markus accepted and just grabbed a cup of coffee.

The rest of Trouble Inc was already busy grabbing some sandwiches and coffee.

While they were busy doing that James cornered Slim and asked about what he had said to Peters earlier.

"I told a joke, Boss."

"What was it?"

Slim paused for a moment and then asked.

"What do bleached blondes and jumbo jets have in common?"

James looked at him.

"They both have a black box."

James took a deep breath through his nose and pursed his lips. Then he briefly arched his eyebrows and then left Slim for the front of the room. As he proceeded there he caught a glimpse of Alice and got a chuckle. Her glasses didn’t have any lenses. He had been concerned when he had seen those glasses. Eye issues could cost a pilot their wings. Alice looked up from her conversation with Gunther and pushed up her glasses with an index finger while smiling at James. She turned back to her conversation with Gunther as James continued to make his way to the front.

James opened his satchel case and removed the contents. The file contained the intel report and some grainy pictures from one of the passes made by the Event Horizon over a month ago. "Not a lot to go on is it?" James said to himself.

James turned to face his group and the few "guests" and cleared his throat.

"Trouble Inc.!" James

His group all shut up and were listening.

"We have as you just heard been tasked with a mission, one that should cause fear and anguish in the hearts of our enemy. Make him rethink his ideas and beliefs. Make him spend resources defending what he thought was safe." James

"I have here our briefing packet. I just got a look inside it." James

James tossed the file on the table, the contents half spilling out of it.

"Simply put, its shit." James

Eugene reach over from the side to grab the file and quickly scanned its contents while James continued to speak.

"The intel report is from Carantania spies. It basically says they have a supply depot there in the village and there is "a lot" of traffic going through there. They don’t even say if the villagers are still there or not. No locations are mentioned in the report either. They do say they "think" there are only 50 to 60 men stationed there." James

"What kind of intel report is that?" Darnel

"Standard quality Carantania intel." Markus

A few heads turned to him at that comment.

Markus just half heartedly shrugged in a what can I say it’s the truth way.

"So what are we gonna do, boss turn this one down?" Pee Wee

There were looks of question and looks of disappointment on the faces James saw. They had seen a lot and they needed to do something about it.

"No, we are going to take the mission. Command thinks it’s a good idea. So do I. We are going to plan to take a depot. If it is not there then we make a grand statement of being there and head back. Remember, this mission has two major purposes. The first is to take out a supply depot. The second is to let them know that they aren’t safe there. Then they have to do some serious thinking. Where else aren’t they safe? Then they will have to deal with their redistribution of military assets to guard supply and repair points. That could easily strip 25% of their available forces from the front. " James

"So, as you can see, we need to do this." James

James noticed several nods from his crew.

"So let’s get to this. We do not have the range to get there and back as Ten Bears says, especially after the loiter time is considered. The idea of a forward refuelling point makes sense.

There are benefits to staging off one of the deserted islands here off shore. Since they are not suppose to have any air assets, putting it out there makes the chance of discovery pretty slim. It is also suppose to be off season for fishing in these waters, which means they should be empty as well." James

"Let’s open the floor to questions and issues for this job." James

"Command wants us to do what when we get there?" Mary

"You mean if we get there, it is a long way over a lot of water." Darnel

"Shut up Darnel! We have a job to plan and that isn’t helping" Mary

"Mary, our job is to capture the depot if possible and raid it of useful supplies then slash and burn the rest." Eugene

Mary nodded.

"The first thing we need to do is determine how far our birds can go before refuelling and how far we have to go." Johnson

"Good start!" James

"Our Ferrets have a range of …." James

"They can get about 400 km straight out which gives them a 200 km operational range." Whitman

"…and our Warriors?" James

"About 350km or 175 km operational range." Bremmerhof

Eugene put these numbers up on an easel.

"How far do we have to travel?" Wong

"Three hundred klicks to the base!" Constantine

"Actually they said it was 300 km from our nearest forward line position. Nobody has said how far it is to the island or from there to the target for that matter." Bremmerhof

"Okay, let’s see if we can get those numbers." James

Shakes got up and walked up to the file and pulled out the map and pulled a pair of dividers out and started measuring off the distance. After a minute she announces.

"I measure 280 km to the island, and about 100 km to the target from there. That is 720 km round trip plus operational time over the target and a safety margin … say 900 km." Shakes

"Damn that’s a haul!" Alice

"You ain’t kidding sister!" Billy Ray

"Okay, we have some ground to cover. Next item slash issues to look at." James

"How much fuel we need to take with us?" Slim

"Good question. How much are we going to need?" James

"Well 280 km will pretty much empty the tanks on a Warrior so every one of them will need to refuel once we get to the island. So that’s about 6 tons of fuel just for them." Mary

"Our Ferrets will be down to about a quarter of a tank as well. So we will need about 3 tons for them as well." Whitman

"Double all of that to cover the refuelling after the raid." Rhicter

"Hey the target is a supply dump, they should have enough fuel to retank from." Pagano

"Hey Pizza, two things, first it is suppose to be a supply dump. What if we come up empty on supplies. Second given the quality of everything around here I wouldn’t trust their shit to be free of water or shit to risk it." Bremmerhof

"Yeah, Bastards got a point there!" Johnson

"Yeah! What he said." Bubba Joe

"Okay, so we are looking at 18 tons of fuel. What else?" James

"Well that is a hell of a distance. What about if something goes wrong? Mechanically I mean." Constantine

"We are gonna be over water for most of the trip, what do you think is gonna happen?" Bremmerhof

"Easy now, Constantine does have a point." James

"That is why we have Sr. Tech Masterson here. To tell us more about what we should be doing to cover things." Eugene

"Thank you. Thank you for inviting me to your planning session. I guess it’s my turn now huh? Well, all the birds should get a maintenance check when they reach the island. The Ferrets should only take about 20 minutes a bird, baring problems. The Warriors will need 40 minutes a bird. They are a more complicated machine. How big a staff you looking to take?" Masterson

"Good question Masterson, who else are we going to need? James

"Well we had figured that we would need some men to watch our backs while we load and some muscle to get them loaded. So 4 squads?" Whitman

"What kind of opposition are you expecting for this?" Corporal Hanscom

"The intel report says they have about 50-60 soldiers stationed there that are being used as freight handlers. Plus whatever might be rolling through." James

"Then 4 squads aren’t enough. You want to double it." Corporal Hanscom

"That is a lot of men, do we really need that many?" Gunther

"Yes, you do. Our guys can’t provide perimeter protection and load shit at the same time. You need to have another group in to do your loading. We can’t hold a box and our gun at the same time." Corporal Hanscom

"That makes some sense." Pee Wee

"Okay, we have 8 squads of men to take with us." James

"Anything else …" James

"Ah! Almost forgot, we are giving the Jack O Lanterns a lift to the target as well. They have a … ah "related" job in the area." James

"Eugene, how are we doing over there?" James

"Let’s see, we have 6 tons for the 8 squads. Markus’s men usually need about 4 tons, so that is 10 tons there alone. We had determined earlier we needed 18 tons of fuel. That takes us up to 28 tons, before Sr. Tech Masterson’s men and gear. I’m also sure we will figure out some more stuff we will need as well. As for your next question, we only have internal storage capacity for 16.5 tons of gear so we are almost double what we can carry internally." Eugene

"Great, sling loading shit chews up fuel pretty fast!" Pagano

"So our Ferrets will most likely be sucking fumes when we reach the island." Johnson

"That will add another ton of to our fuel requirements. Check that, make it two tons, almost forgot the return trip, and I for one don’t intend to skip that one." Wong

"So we still have to cover how big a maintenance crew to come along, and how much gear they need. Anything else we need to look at?" James

"Yeah, I have something." Alice

"Okay Alice, what do you have?" James

"I’m not normally one to worry over this sort of thing but what about navigating? I’m use to navigating on land where I have land marks, you’re talking a lot of water." Alice

James paused for a moment, he hadn’t expected this question.

"I mean, especially where the inertial nav system in my ride was down back on Fujiera. I know that they said they fixed it, but without land marks …." Alice

James realized that all of his birds were used, otherwise he wouldn’t have been able to afford them. It was also true that her inertial nav system had been DOA, when they had uncrated it back on Fujiera.

“Alice, thank you for this question. It is a good one. One I hadn’t anticipated. So I’m not sure where to start on this one. Most of the time between land nav points and the inertial nav we have been set. This time it is imperative that we hit our target zones. There is no real leeway on it. We will be sucking fumes by the time we reach the island, and no real reserve to try and locate an island if we are off by more than 30 klicks. So it is a very good question. Anybody have any ideas?” James

“Sat nav is out, they don’t have any satellites.” Shakes

Okay, no sat nav, and inertial nav is crapped out, and a simple cross wind or a couple degrees off compass heading and we’re screwed. Mmmmm, all my mind can think of is needing at least one good nav point to work with. Not sure how we get that. I have no idea boss” Mary

“I need another sandwich.” Bubba Joe

Bubba Joe gets up and heads for the sandwich tray.

“Bring me back one of those one’s with Bacon and some more coffee.” Billy Ray

“They ain’t got any bacon one’s left!” Bubba Joe

“Sure they do, I can smell them from here and I can see one from way back here too.” Billy Ray

<Snap!> Bremmerhof had just snapped his fingers.

“I think I might have something here.” Bremmerhof

“It ain’t my sandwich.” Billy Ray

We need a nav point and nothing says it has to be official looking. It just has to allow us to get our navigation fix. Bremmerhof

“What have you got in mind?” James

“A nav point is just that a navigational beacon. Anything can be a beacon if it can be referenced. It doesn’t have to be pretty just work“ Bremmerhof.

“I’m not sure what you are talking about, or what you think it has to do with my sandwich.” Billy Ray

The bacon man, it was the bacon. You noticed it from a fair distance away. It wasn’t large or really any different from the rest of the sandwiches.” Bremmerhof

“Speak for yo’self, there’s a real difference between that bacon and what they are calling olive loaf.” Billy Ray


Bubba Joe walks back and hands his brother a sandwich and takes a bite of a bacon sandwich. Billy Ray takes a bite of the sandwich and screws up his face after a few chews and a hard swallow he said.

“Olive loaf.” Billy Ray

“So you want to use a bacon sandwich as a nav beacon?” Bubba Joe

“Not exactly.” Bremmerhof

“Then I don’t understand what you want to do with a bacon sandwich.” Billy Ray

“Me neither.” Bubba Joe

“What does bacon look like?” Bremmerhof

“Dunno, wrinkled up meat strips?” Billy Ray

“What’s a better example? Um… um ah, ribbon candy.” Bremmerhof

“It tastes great!” Alice

Bremmerhof was up and walking around the fingers on one hand were in rapid motion while he was thinking.

“A radio tower?” Shakes

“A radio tower.” Bremmerhof

“What? How is a radio tower gonna help we need a navigation beacon. Those don’t grow on trees.” Billy Ray

“We don’t need a full blown navigational beacon.” Bremmerhof

“He’s right, we don’t. All we really need is the carrier wave frequency and a directional fix on it.” Shakes

“Of course that mother is gonna need some serious juice! You’re talking about punching a signal out to 300 klicks.” Shakes

“…And altitude, don’t forget altitude. Planetary curvature means it is going to have to be high.” Pee Wee

“We still have the little bird we could mount the antenna on it and fly it up real high …” Pagano

“And nuke the pilot with the radiation it will put out. Good idea but a no go Pizza” Pee Wee

“So, we need a way to get a powerful antenna array high enough without killing anybody, and with the equipment we have on hand.” James

<RIIIIIIIIIIIIIIPPPPP!>

Everyone turned to look at Bubba Joe.

“What?! It was just the bacon talking.” Bubba Joe

“Hey man, gassing us is against the AREs conventions man!” Constantine

“Thanks Constantine! Thanks Bubba Joe!” Bremmerhof

“You’re thanking them for …..” Gunther

“…For giving us the solution to the problem!” Bremmerhof

“Solution, he just tried to gas ….. I get it.” Shakes

“The safest way is also easy. We float the antenna up.” Shakes

“Exactly!” Bremmerhof

“The only issue is what do we broadcast that doesn’t tip our hand to the enemy of what we are really up to with it.” Shakes

“Good question.” Bremmerhof

“And the answer is just as easy. We do a Psy Warfare program. We can grab a couple of those “new recruits” give them some scripts and somebody that know how to run one and we have a decoy with a purpose.” Bo Peep

“Okay, maybe you two will spell it out for the rest of us?” Slim

“Simple, we use a balloon to take our antenna up as high as we need and we use some of our new recruits and our best Psy Warfare person to stage a broadcast while we are on our mission.” Bremmerhof

“Who won’t listen to a female voice that can be reading Bodice rippers one minute and then pitching a “give it up message” the next. Bo Peep

“All we really want is the carrier wave frequency from the broadcast so that we have at least one directional fix and relative strength. When we add that on top of our inertial nav and compass readings we should have enough for navigation.” Shakes

“Excellent! Eugene, would you add this to the equipment list?” James

“Already done Boss” Eugene

Markus gave James a quick nod when he had his attention.

“Ah, thank you Markus. I almost forgot. Eugene, our guests will need some additional space on their return flight with us.” James

“How much do they need?” Eugene

“About a thousand kilo’s should cover it.” Markus

“Got it.” Eugene

“Anything else we need to cover?” James

“Special ordinance.” Eugene

“We still need to know how much weight Sr. Tech Masterson needs for crew and parts.” Whitman

“I still don’t like our fuel situation Boss. The margins are a little too close for comfort.” Wong

“Okay, back to fuel, they only way we can swing more fuel is with drop tanks. They will cut back on what we can carry but you are right we could use better reserve margins. Okay drop tanks it is. Eugene …” James

“Got it!” Eugene

“Sr. Tech Masterson, any ideas yet on tech crew and parts requirements?” James

“Well, you can make due with a three person crew one Sr. Tech and two As-Techs should cover it manpower wise. Parts wise what are you looking to do?” Sr. Tech Masterson

“Well I figure we will need a maintenance check when we get to this island. The in and back won’t be able to do much. We will need another maintenance check and any emergency repairs that are needed when we return to the island. We will still have a long haul from there back to the mainland.” James

“Well if you’re not expecting any more action when you get back then we won’t need the reloads or the armour patches. That saves a lot of weight right there. You will need extra fluids, some wiring, some …” Sr. Tech Masterson

His next words were lost as he starting punching up things on his data pad that miraculously popped into his hand. A full minute later.

“Alright then make it about 500 kilos in parts plus the three of us.” Sr. Tech Masterson

“Sr. Tech Masterson, I’m not sure we would be given permission to borrow you. You are ah … how do we say it too valuable a person to take.” James

“Tell me something Flyboy, how much trust do you want to put into moderate skilled hands to patch up your little whirly birds to make a long haul flight over what you would call the “sucks to be you” terrain you need to fly over?” Sr. Tech Masterson

James lowered his head just a little and swallowed hard. When there was a point to be made Sr. Tech Masterson didn’t mince words. He raised his eyes and gave a quick glance to the rest of the flight crew and saw the same answer he came to. It might be a fight but it was one he would have to will. James nodded to Sr. Tech Masterson.

“Okay what do we have left?

“Special ordinance.” Eugene

“Operational plan.” Bremmerhof

“Well those seem to be interrelated” James

Let’s work the Ops plan and see if we need any “Specials.” James

James walked around for a bit to stretch.

Sr. Tech Masterson walked over and grabbed a sandwich and a coffee. Alice also got up and grabbed a sandwich and ate it at the serving table. Afterwards she grabbed 3 cups of coffee and walked them back. She stopped and handed one to Eugene and another to James. The last one she handed to Gunther. She started to turn to go back when Mary handed her a cup and sat down and started to sip from the other cup she had brought for herself. Alice reached into her little purse, also with a dog on it and started to fumble through it. She pulls out a small black automatic and put it in her lap and then reaches in pulls out a stick of red and white twisted candy, unwraps it and put it in her coffee. She returns the automatic to her purse and stirs her coffee with the candy.

“Okay folks let’s get an Ops plan put together.” James

“Well Boss, with next to nothing for a map or anything it will be difficult to plan much.” Mary

James looked at Mary for a moment and knew she was right.

“Okay, when do we want to arrive on site?” James

“Night?” Mary

“Well, we have to find a town, after a long haul over water, at night and then figure out where the base is in relation to the town and size up what is where.” Eugene

“Unless they are under black out it should be easier to find the place at night.” Rhicter

“The report did say stuff was filtering through round the clock.” Eugene

“And that would mean lights at the depot area, which should help us identify the actual target area.” Rhicter

“Boss, I would like to suggest we don’t head straight to the target.” Bremmerhof

“Oh? What are you suggesting?” James

“Well I suggest we make landfall to the west of the town and then turn east and make our run in that way. Only need about 25 clicks to cover it.” Bremmerhof

“This will preserve the idea that we flew from our lines directly to them. Then we can do the same on the way out. Make them look for us where we ain’t.” Bremmerhof

“Hmmmm …. What do you think?” James

“I like it. A little extra travel time but worth it I think. Just in case they have a boat or some airframes we don’t know about.

“How much time will we have over target?” Johnson

“With this revision, we will only have about 50 minutes tops.” Eugene

“We will only be able to judge what to take once we get there.” Whitman

“Reinforcements? What would their response time be?” Slim

“We don’t know of any reinforcements nearby. Whatever convoy might be trans shipping through the area?” James

“Anything else?” James

“Time line.” Shakes

“Okay, time line.” James

“When do we want to hit?” James

“Well we need an hour to hit and raid. We will need the time to travel to and from our IP which we can make the landfall point. So plan it as an hour to be safe. Then back up our fight time from the island, say another 2 hours right there.” Eugene

“Maintenance before you go should be 12 hours.” Sr. Tech Masterson

James looked at Sr. Tech Masterson with a questioning look.

“Well unless you want us to do it on a union schedule, then we will need 21 hours.” Sr. Tech Masterson

“That would be ….” James

“Oh seven thirty hours Boss.” Wong

“Plus our refuelling Boss.” Pagano

“How long?” James

“One hour actual time but slot 3 hours. Hot fuelling can be done but is not advised.” Whitman

“Okay so that brings us back to oh four thirty hours, which means we will be leaving at ten hundred hours the day before.” James

“I don’t think it is advisable to try and make it to the island at night.” James

“Don’t we also have some of those old remote sensors in one of the crates we got the ferrets in?” Whitman

“Yeah, I think we do. Why?” Shakes

“I had an idea that we could use them as nav beacons.” Whitman

“They are too small and weak to be a nav beacon.” Pagano

“Not if you already dropped them on the way out, and use them as guide ons for the way home.” Whitman

Pagano was about to say something and stopped.

“Except for the currents causing them to drift, it is not a bad idea.” Shakes

“There is that. I guess I didn’t think of that part.” Whitman

“That’s okay that is why we do this as a group.” Shakes

“Okay that pretty much covers the mission prep.” James

“Except for two items.” Eugene

“Two?” James

“First is “Specials” the second is a space issue.” Eugene

“I’ve got us with about 38 tons of people and gear before specials and we only have internal capacity for 16 and a half. Granted over half that weight is fuel.” Eugene

“Right now we are looking at having to carry gear under the attack birds. To the island and we are already carrying gear underneath BEFORE we talk about raided supplies. That’s not good.” Eugene

“Your right, that is not good at all. Anybody got ideas on where we can get extra lift capacity?” James

There was a lot of looking around with puzzled looks for a over a minute.

“Um, … I think I might have seen something.” Darnel

“Explain.” James

“Well, we just got back from a recon job about 3 weeks back, we had to put down in one of those small compounds over west of here. Well while we were trouble shooting a warning light I could have sworn I saw the nose of a Karnov sticking out of a stack of hay inside a barn.” Darnel

James and Eugene exchanged looks.

“Do you remember where this compound was located?” James

“Do you remember Mary?” Darnel

“No, I can’t say I do. It would be in my report though. I can go back and look it up.” Mary

<Time break> 3:30pm

"Boss, Estimate that we’ve got about 30 minutes before we should see land."

It didn’t register with a few people up front, but it did with Bo Peep and with James. Even Pee Wee caught that one. It was taking him a moment. He needed to wake up. It was an off shift for him. He started rousing himself awake. He started to reach for a cup of coffee but realized that that had been gone for quite some time now. So he tried moving and flexing as much as he could in the cockpit trying to wake himself up, get his blood flowing and throw off the blanket of sleep. Between that and all the catnaps he had had he was starting to come around. Of course now the sun was starting to lean down more. It was a pretty good glare out there just in front of him and the sun reflecting off all the water. Over the intercom

"That’s great new boss, thirty minutes to land! What do you want to do when we first get down?"

This galvanized the idea that land was only a short time away now. In James mind, he started thinking "There are entire checklists of things that needed to be gone through to make sure we cover everything we need to cover." But just the idea of land was so much more than his checklists at this moment in time. He came up on the company net.

"Red six acknowledge"

That was when he happened to notice down below that the waves weren’t heading directly towards them they were shifting off at a slight angle. This was different than when they had left, they were heading towards them then. After a brief second he realized "O’ Fuck, there’s been a cross wind! Question is, is it only down there, is it up here, and how long has it been going on? Well, those were good questions. With not a real answer in sight, they were going to be left with safety precautions. He pulled up Hawk on the command net and took him to a private channel.

"Hawk, how long have we had the cross wind? "

Hawk wasn’t sure either. When you’re flying at this altitude it is not something you are normally paying attention to. It is less noticeable at this altitude.

"Not sure Boss."

"Okay, got any idea of what speed that might be moving at down there?"

Again there was no real answer on it, because it was really difficult to judge cross winds while you are still air born.

"I guess we had better start activating one of our contingency plans."

A moment later on the company net, James spoke calmly. "Rex six to flight, red six to flight … Looks like we might have picked up a cross wind. We are going to go to our contingency plan here. Need everybody up and alert. Let’s start fanning out. Blue one through six, you have the early vectors. Break off five klicks apart, Big C will take the middle slot, red flight will take all the late vectors."

James had just ordered blue flight to start fanning out now into the direction of the cross wind. It would change it from a cross wind into a head wind after turning to the new heading. Blue flight turned fanning out onto their new headings and most of them adjusted their speed up by 8 kph to account for light to moderate head wind.

The contingency plan was to fan out and to cover from right straight ahead to 45 degrees into the cross wind. Everybody would be going full active with sensors and scanners. They should hopefully be far enough away that nobody from the mainland would be able to pick them up, but they needed to start fanning out now, and spacing themselves out to see if they could actually spot land. In this case the islands they were heading for. Since the primary direction was still forward. That would mean that blue flight would have the longest legs out, and since they had the higher fuel endurance they were the logical choice to start that one. So they would be fanning out now and increasing speed a little to counteract the possible head winds to try and cover as much of their legs as they could. With only 30 minutes left that means that land should only be 20 klicks away.

Red flight would cover straight ahead through the first 15 degrees of flight. The Big C would take somewhere in the middle. It was a risk, of course, with all the sensors going active. Of any surface patrols or maybe a citizen with an actual radio to hear the sensors and reporting back to the mainland. Again it was a risk that had to be taken.

One by one blue flight started peeling off and started fanning out, the Big C taking its turn in veering off in its turn to cover the sector assigned to it. Then James and then the rest of red flight broke off and continuing to angle out with Bastard taking the final straight on approach leg.

Everybody had reserves and that was good.

James was well aware that everybody’s nerves that had been calm before the announcement of the cross wind had gone back up to high gear because they were well aware they were at their most vulnerable at this point. It would be a very sad state of affairs if everybody went in, especially knowing that there was enough fuel being carried here to more than go all the way to the mainland and back several times but unable to put it where it was needed most into a fuel tank.

All the radio sets had been dialled up to 75% on power and in fifteen minutes would be bumping it to a full 100%, just to make sure that any communications between them would be heard. Five minutes went by no responses, ten still nothing, fifteen and twenty passed by with no comments. Twenty five minutes out and land should be being seen out there. They were easily off by over five klicks if nobody responded back yet. Even Bastard from the straight ahead leg, should have spotted something. A full 30 minutes went by, somebody should be over land if they were even relative close on target. Nerves would start to be seriously jingling by now. Thirty-five minutes, forty minutes, still nothing. Forty- five minutes, fifteen minutes after land should have been spotted. That was T plus 15 … still nothing. At T+19 a voice came over the comm line.

"Blue four to flight, blue four to flight I have a visual on something up ahead. Closing in for a better look."

Meanwhile on blue four Whitman put the craft into auto pilot and pulled out his binoculars. He tried focusing in on what it was he thought he saw in front of him. He brought the glasses up training on that area. The sun was off to one side, and not directly in front of him, so that should be a help. But he looked ahead it was still just a black shape. "Damn I wish these had more magnification. He double checked his fuel gauge, reached down and increased power bringing his air speed up to a full seventy kilometres per hour. A couple minutes later the dark shape had flashed in white, and the white seemed to be moving away at an oblique angle to him. That was when he was realizing that the white was a flock of birds. That they could have been sitting on the water floating in a pack so he may not have seen anything. He took the glasses down, rubbed his eyes and brought them up again. But there was still a dark spot where the birds had taken off. So there was at least something up ahead.

Meanwhile the rest of the flight was galvanized to their radios. All radios were up to full power, all squelches were off and all gains turned up. Waiting anxiously for a response from Whitman in blue four. Meanwhile they still had to focus ahead in their own sectors to see if they could spot any land, just in case this was a false report.

T+22 blue four was close enough to determine that the dark spot was nothing but a small coral patch that may or may not be under a foot or so of water. For emergency situations, that may be able to land one maybe two birds there but not enough to save the rest of the flight.

He just started looking around again and THAT was when he noticed it. It was another and then another of these dark spots. Just behind the one he had seen. It was definitely pointing to the fact that he should be getting close.
That was when he looked ahead and actually saw a dark shadow rising from the horizon ahead. It wasn’t much just a hairline above.

"Oh Hell." Whitman cursed.

That was when he reached down again and applied more power to the rotors increasing air speed up to one hundred kilometres per hour. He knew he was sucking fuel fast this way, but he needed to be sure if he was correct. Then all was fine, if not … well it would only be a little less time.

James was starting to get nervous, it had been awhile since Whitman in blue four had reported in. James desperately wanted to key the mike and demand a SITREP from him, but he knew that would only generate more fear and panic through the rest of the flight. As flight leader, and as much as he wanted to he couldn’t, he had to wait, but only for another five minutes. Then he could request a SITREP and find out what he desperately wanted to know right now. Four and half minutes later James was just about to key the mike when a voice came over the net.

"Land HO! This is blue four I repeat, Land HO!" Whitman sang out.

Relief flooded through James in his cockpit. And it was running relieved all the way through the flight. James came up on the net.

"Red six to blue four, red six to blue four, please confirm report."

"Blue four to red six, blue four to red six, confirmed land, WE HAVE LAND! Grid coordinates as follows, Sierra 42 by Victor 27. "

James then keyed the mike "Red six to flight, red six to flight, land has been spotted, repeat land has been spotted. Change vectors to rendezvous with blue four. Grid coordinates, Sierra 42 by Victor 27. Acknowledge over."

One by one the entire flight had checked in.

"Red one acknowledge."

"Red two acknowledge."

"Blue three acknowledge."

"Red five acknowledge."

"Blue two acknowledge."

"Red four acknowledge."

"Blue five acknowledge."

"Red three acknowledge."

"Blue one acknowledge."

"Red six acknowledge."

"Blue four acknowledge."

"Blue six acknowledge."

"Black one acknowledge."

James had repeated this message, to make sure everybody in the flight was able to hear it. He had specifically positioned himself half way to make sure that he could pick up and send communications through the entire line of the search fan that he had going. James had turned and started moving to the grid coordinates blue four had given.

Bastard, turned and started heading back, now he had the longest leg of the journey to make. The rest of the flight would be there well before he was.

Back in blue four, one of the Black Stars squad leaders, a corporal, got up and started worming his way to the cockpit area. He along with everyone else had felt the increases in speed and had started getting nervous not knowing what was going on. Looking out, just as he got close enough to ask the pilot what the hell was going on he happened to notice out of the perspex ahead of them, a large shadow on the horizon, they were even close enough that they could see actual green of the trees now. That was when Whitman noticed him, turned his head and looked at him, and gave him a thumbs up. The Corporal grinned and gave a thumbs up in response and then wormed his way into the back to the rest of the group. When he got there he started clapping people on the shoulder and giving a thumbs up sign.

****************************************

Whitman closes up on the island, as he looks it over he realizes that there is no place to land. Off in the distance he sees a second island and turns towards it maintaining speed. As he over flies this second island he notices that it is not much bigger than the first one and once again only enough room to put down one or two birds but no place to land the whole flight due to the tree cover. As he looks around Whitman spots two more islands ahead of him, one to the left and one to the right. He heads towards the one on the right.

Whitman reaches the island and finds that is bigger than the last two and the first half of the island is still fairly thick with scrub trees. Then from his vantage point, sees that the back half of the island is becoming clearer. He is about to radio that he about to be changing altitudes when he spots a sensor blip, IFF identified it as blue three. They are closing in.

"Blue four to flight, blue four to flight, changing altitude, descending to 600 meters, repeat, descending to 600 meters." Whitman

Whitman starts his descent to 600 meters in efforts to get a better look at the island and look for decent landing spots. "This one will," do he thought. He started scanning for sensor contacts, looking for ‘Mechs or active tanks below. If it was a shut down tank he wouldn’t be able to pick it up on sensors, nor would he be able to locate any infantry unless they were out in the open.

Looking down he sees exactly what he was hoping to see, on the back half of this island, a relatively large open area with very sparsely covered scrub trees. The area was also large enough for the entire flight group.

"Blue three, this is blue four, have found us an LZ, repeat, have found us an LZ. Coordinates are …." Whitman

Whitman rattles off the coordinates from his inertial nav unit. This was more for any follow on craft than it was for Blue three. Blue three would have him on sensors and most likely a visual as well. The sensors were now picking up a second contact. The direction was from farther south, where blue five should be coming from. The IFF was reporting that it was indeed blue five.

"Blue three to flight, blue three to flight, blue four has found us an LZ, we have an LZ. Coordinates are being sent." Pizza

Pizza relayed blue four’s message to the rest of the flight. With the altitude change blue four wouldn’t be able to transmit far enough to reach everyone.

James picks up the message and relay’s it to the flight. He felt even better hearing that an LZ had been located.

Meanwhile back on blue four. "Blue four to flight, am descending to 200 meters." Whitman

Whitman started descending to 200 meters while making another pass at the island. He would be mentally trying to place where everything would need to be. He had just reached altitude and started his run in, when he felt a heavy thump on his seat. He turned his head to look at what it was and saw the As-Tech he had on board standing just behind him. The thump was his hand on the seat as he had steadied himself. The As-Tech looks out of the windscreen for a few moments and points to one side of the island. Whitman looks over at the area and the As-tech’s motioning "over there." The hand motions signalling the dropping of the under slung cargo and setting down a little further over from there. Whitman understands these signals and gives an exaggerated nod of his head, so that it would actually be noticeable with his helmet on. Then Whitman motions for the As-Tech to get back to his seat while he does this. The As-Tech moves off back to his seat strapping in for the final descent. Whitman gives him a full minute before he starts his landing manoeuvres.

Whitman starts making his run in slowly descending. He flips a switch on the cockpit console, and then pulls a lever a moment later to make sure that the grounding wire is properly deployed. Helicopters are very well known for building up static charges on them. It is caused by the large quantities of air, and its friction, that pass over the air frame from the down draft of the rotors. These charges can be quite lethal when discharging on landings. The grounding wire is used to ground the craft before actually landing to safely dissipate these charges. Whitman sizes up the areas again where he is suppose to land his craft and then where he is suppose to set down his cargo. He starts slowing his airspeed for his final approach, and shortly before reaching the spot he presses hard on the rudder pedal swinging the craft around a full one hundred and eighty degrees and starts dropping the nose. The immediate spin around still with forward momentum did mean that the craft was now drifting slowly backwards at a relatively low speed as he starts dropping his nose. The reasoning for this was instead of dragging the grounding wire, which was almost literally under his feet, back under the full length of the helicopter and towards the two tons of aviation gas he had slung there, that it would now be dragging on the ground in front of his craft away from the highly explosive fuel. The last thing he would want at this point in time was is a static discharge setting off all that fuel he had been hauling this whole time. So with the nose now dropped he could now see the small line trace from the dragging grounding wire in the white sand below. Dropping the nose also started creating forward force that checked the reverse speed of the craft bringing the craft to a complete stop. Whitman then levels the craft and starts reducing power. Then he notices an increased pitch in the engines, this was caused by the reduced weight load on the craft which meant that the pallet with fuel was actually on the ground. He quickly compensates for this and then hits the release for the cargo sling latch and the cargo lines dropped free of the craft. Whitman slide his craft horizontally to one side to where the As-Tech had pointed out for him to land. Then turned and set the craft down gently, at least he thought it was going to be gently. It turned into a decent sized thump. But after a long trip and having to quickly adjust between weight differences of the craft and the responsiveness from it, he thought he had done fairly well. Nobody in the cargo compartment was complaining. As soon as he was fully settled he cut power to the engine, letting it and the rotors spool down. He could actually hear the chorus of yells from the men in the cargo compartment as soon as he got his helmet with earphones off his head, even over the noise of the engine and rotors spooling down.

Moments later the infantry onboard the craft were pouring out of the craft, glad this long trip was over with and actually had their feet on good solid ground, well the sand was a little soft under foot, but it WAS land.

The three squad leaders briefly met then all three started giving hand signals. Whitman was sure that there were verbal orders to go with them but he couldn’t hear those yet. The men started breaking off in groups of twos and fours and spreading out. The As-Tech climbed out about the same time Whitman was able to get out of the craft. Whitman was happy to be down he needed the rest break.

The As-Tech, even after the long flight, was also happy to be down but he also knew that this was the time for him to be going to work. Being the first one down, he now had the job of being the landing signal officer for all the follow on craft coming in. A quick check with Whitman confirmed that the follow on birds were coming, and actually a quick glimpse up he could see that blue three and blue five were almost overhead. The As-Tech quickly manoeuvred around to start giving signal directions to the follow on craft as they arrived he started waving them down. Showing them where he wanted the cargo and where he wanted the craft to land. Blue three was the second craft to come down. As soon as it had finally landed three more squads of infantry poured out of that craft, as well as the second As-Tech and followed by Pizza.

A squad of Black Stars split into two sections and started undoing the cargo slings from the fuel supply. A UDF squad started heading inland to finish scanning the rest of the island. It shouldn't take more than 30 minutes to scout the entire island. Again Whitman hadn't spotted anything on his sensors, but they wouldn't have been able to detect any gas powered engines that were not powered up, nor would they have been able to detect any kind of infantry or power armour. That is one great thing that the infantry was good for was being able to go in and find trouble. It was a little more dangerous to live through it for them but they could find it.

Whitman was able to look over and see at least two different squads of two along the coastline walking and watching. They were looking for any signs of recent activity, whether it would be foot prints, raft drag marks or even bow sprits on the island and watching the waters around it to see if they could see any craft that may have not been spotted or had just shown up.

The second Black Stars squad leader had kept his unit in reserve moving off towards the edge of the tree line, making his squad the ready reaction force, for whatever might have been flushed by the two other squads that were out looking.

Blue five set down next, and its squad of troopers disembarked after the cargo had been set down and the craft landed. Sr. Tech Masterson also disembarked from the craft. With both the other As-Techs already down, frantically waving in the various craft, it didn’t seem possible that they could move any faster than what they had but they did. It just went to show all the years of motivational experience that Sr. Tech Masterson brought to the job.

The Big C was next to land. Both As-Techs were acting as the LSO's (Landing Signal Officers) now. Both were directing the Big C in its landing. This one was one of the most critical loads there were. Since this craft was literally carrying over 60% of the fuel they needed for the entire mission.

Sr. Tech Masterson had put in a longer grounding wire on this craft, knowing that it would not be able to do the spin and nose down manoeuvre like the Ferrets had done. He wanted to make sure that the grounding wire was long enough to properly ground the craft before trying to land. Instead the flight crew of black one, the Big C, used a slow, gradual, and sideways manoeuvre to do the same thing, to accomplish a safe grounding.

Inside, the crew was able to put the cargo sling load onto the ground and hit the release switch, which cut loose the half dozen cargo sling lines that was holding it in place. Being a much larger craft it had a much larger carrying capacity, it had also needed multiple anchor points for the large load. But this civilian craft was made for this. After releasing the lines the pilot had overcompensated in his power adjustment towards his landing area and actually overshot the landing area being specified by the LSO's and ended up flying out over the water before he was finally able to get turned around and get back to land. This of course at the consternation of the two As Techs/ LSOs, who were visibly unhappy with this. But the Big C crew were not true Black Stars, they were last minute sign ons at the time these two craft were confiscated by the captain of the Event Horizon, from the drop ship that was bringing them into to the War Master. Normally civilians would not be seen flying the equivalent of a combat mission in an unarmed civilian craft, but these pilots had thought it was much better and much safer doing this than they had with the alternative of being confined aboard the Event Horizon. They felt much better about flying their craft into a combat mission, better because they would actually be able to see and face and react to the possible enemy than they felt they would being confined aboard the Event Horizon and feeling at the mercy of an unseen and very disturbing type force.

Finally they were able to see red flight showing up one by one working their way in. Sr. Tech Masterson had found a nice relatively soft spot in the sand over in one area, and between the LSOs and the radio he had produced from somewhere one by one the warriors carefully came and hovered and cut loose the empty drop tanks there to the soft landing and leaving the ones they had been using to carry fuel in place. It would be easier to refuel them that way.

James started his shut down sequence as soon as he had finally touched down. After exiting his craft he waited outside it. James didn't leave the flight area until he saw Bastard show up and safely land. He noted the time, it was 17:30 an hour later than schedule.

The patrols reported in over the radios that they had negative contacts and had spotted no sign of recent activity if any activity at all. The island was secured.

Meal time, while Trouble, Inc. were eating their rations James held a debriefing at this point. He had them review all the events on the way over. He and Hawk had decided to ask some specific questions on how they thought things went, how they felt at what points and when. The idea being to make sure that James and Hawk got a better idea and understanding of how the other pilots felt and reacted and handled the various stresses. But the real idea was for Hawk and himself to better understand all the pilots that were in his group, to find their key strengths and their weaknesses. Everyone has a weakness, James better than the others understood this. And he knew that his people, whether some of them knew it or not, were already helping him every day to combat his weakness. As the commander it was also his job to help them combat theirs. And also, unlike most military units, the Black Stars were more a family than a regular military unit. Don't get it wrong, the Black Stars were military, mercenary, but military.

Once the island had been deemed secure by Gallagher, he put out five 2 man OP’s which were set up to cover all the most obvious access routes to the island. Especially on the beach side, so that anybody trying to come to the island would be seen, so as to give everybody as much time as possible to prepare for their uninvited guests arrival.

Gallagher specifically made sure that the extra squad they had picked up was well versed in where everything was. Made sure that they had received a complete walk around of the island, and pointed out the best place to set up their one man OP's. Because their sole responsibilities and the reason they were brought for this mission was to be the guards for this forward base. Leaving techs alone here would be stupid and only call down the wrath of the Command staff of the Black Stars. Novo Franklin was so far off the beaten path that getting any kind of replacement techs out here, let alone one as competent in quality as Sr. Tech Masterson would be practically impossible. That was another reason that James and Hawk had decided to add the additional squad of infantry to this trip, just specifically to protect these techs.

Gallagher had detailed one squad to set up as much as they could quick a first aid station. Their field medics would be doing whatever they could in the field, but once back here they would probably need more gear, which wouldn't be as easily carried into the field, so they would stage that here. And as with all infantry, hoping like hell that it would never have to be used, though combat assaults always brought casualties. This field station would also provide a small measure of comfort in knowing that it was here, but also remind them that they were heading into combat and not to screw up.

So all the crew enjoyed the late afternoon sun, cold rations, and the company of their family of pilots and gunners as well as getting all the information that James had wanted.

Sr. Tech Masterson had also made an appearance part way through, and made inquiries of every one about any and all potential problems that they could address between now and the few hours they had before the helo crews had to take off again, for the real mission at 21:30. Everyone was reporting to him that everything was looking great on the gauges. Rhicter was never able to make up his mind about the slight fluctuation in the RPM gauge. It wasn't even a full needle tick, but before Sr. Tech Masterson left, Rhicter did decide to mention it. Of course he also mentioned it hadn't seemed to change the entire trip, but for completeness he figured he had better mention it. He also added the caveat that he wasn't even sure if it was a real problem or just him being paranoid.

Sr. Tech Masterson took that information back with him. He and his crew didn't really have a lot of time to deal with any kind of a problems right now, but when a pilot reported something it was the techs job to check it out to see if it was anything or not and if it was, to do damnedest to fix it within parts and manpower availability restrictions.


<scene break to the flight line>

Sr. Tech Masterson made sure he knew where all the supplies were after he arrived on the island. He already had lists and checklists and he had already reviewed these with the two As-Techs he had brought along. These were the more competent of the As-Techs, of course, and they had actually considered it a privilege to have been chosen for this mission by Sr. Tech Masterson. Due to the nature of the mission, they knew that he would be looking for good people, and to actually be chosen for such a mission was an honour, it was a recognition of their actual abilities versus the day to day griping about their various levels of competency in the tasks that he assigned them.

The fuel loads had been unslung. Sr. Tech Masterson had enlisted just about every free infantry man that Gallagher and the UDF force had. To move around the supplies that needed to be moved as quickly as possible. He even had them working as fuel handlers, refuelling all the craft.

Even Marcus had not been immune to Sr. Tech Masterson's recruitment drive. He had enlisted them to help remove the fuel pallets on the Big C and remove the two fuel cells that were also on board, including attaching one of them to the external mounting point that the old cell had just been jettisoned from before landing. This required some serious muscle to manhandle the 1,000 kg fuel cell into position. It was a perfect job for the Jack -o- Lanterns in their power suits.

Sr. Tech Masterson as part of the gear he had brought, had thought to include three auxiliary fuel pumps and some improvised cables to power them. This allowed them to use the helicopters power supplies to help refuel the tanks so it didn't all have to be hand pumped. This greatly speeded the refuelling process, of course there were a couple of overflows. The As-Techs were right on top of the infantry men for that especially about the biohazard issues and general beratements. Similar but lesser quality than that that Sr. Tech Masterson had been instilling in them for over a year now. They were learning, and maybe one day by sheer accident they might make it to a Sr. Tech themselves. The infantry men, of course, had been use to beratements by Gallagher and their squad leaders. So they were use to this in one sense, though it coming from a different section was something else. But they also understood, down inside, they weren't techs, they were simply pitching in because that was what needed to be done. With the three auxiliary pumps the refuelling was accomplished in record time. Sr. Tech Masterson had them all hopping all around so much in this 4 hour window that they would be getting almost eight hours work done. That was one of the reasons Sr. Tech Masterson had been pushing so much for the infantry men on his ride to get as much sleep as possible on the ride over and so had Gallagher. The Black Stars understood what was going to happen, and though they may have had some normal pre-operation jitters from this, being true military men and trained properly were able to sleep anywhere including on a mission like this. There were even a half dozen military men that needed to be roused awake after they had landed because they had slept through almost the entire ride.

With the craft refuelled the As-Techs were going through as much of the maintenance checks as possible. Normally this would be helped along by the pilots of the helicopters, but they were going to need at least a couple hours sack time in order to prepare themselves for the next leg of their mission. They needed to be fresh for the actual raid. The As-Techs gave every craft at least a cursory going over. If no major problems were reported it got a basic fluids check and a critical points check.

Sr. Tech Masterson went to take a look at Rhicter's machine. After a quick scan of the log files onboard, he had called over one of the As-Techs, they had been busy working on another craft, he showed him the log pointing out one item in particular and then started pointing back to the engine compartment and then walked off to supervise other system and maintenance checks on other craft, twenty minutes later the As-Tech came back and nodded his head and then and went and got the part. Luckily Sr. Tech Masterson had planned ahead for this. The actual RPM gauge fluctuations had indeed been real. It turns out that a vacuum line fitting had been cross threaded and the vacuum ring seal in it had been damaged causing a minute amount of air to be able to get into the line at altitude, causing the fluctuations, if the seal had gotten any worse while they had been at altitude, the immediate loss of vacuum pressure could have brought the whole craft down and all aboard it. Such a cheap tiny part could bring down a critical airframe. The As-Tech had the part replaced and the craft back up within twenty five minutes. Critical time lost for an As-Tech, since there were so few of them for so many craft and for such a minor repair. Minor it might be, but critical it was. As soon as he had repaired the vacuum line he reported back to Sr. Tech Masterson that he had completed his repair, Sr. Tech Masterson had reminded him "Get back to the other crafts, we ain't got the time for lolli-gagging."

Most of the other checks had gone through without too much issue. Sr. Tech Masterson could afford to work his crew as hard as he wanted to because after these aircraft took off from here it would probably be about 5 hours before they would get back. That would give them a good hour and a half to prep for their return as best they could, given the limited quantities of tools and supplies they could bring along with them to repair any combat damage sustained upon their return, and probably give them about three hours worth of sleep.

As far as Sr. Tech Masterson was concerned, the infantry squad that was being left behind as body guards may not know it yet but they had just enlisted in the air corp technicians pool, because he would be using them to help prepare for the return of the heloes, whether they liked it or not.

The clock hands, no matter how slow the individual seconds of time ticks off, seemed to move incredibly fast, and before any one felt ready for it, the departure time was upon them.

James held a quick mission briefing and pep talk. Basically going over everything they had already covered at least a half dozen times before, what the mission was, parameters, basic contingencies plans mostly by names versus actual detail there wasn't enough time to go into the details of all of them. And last, was to fly as safe as possible while still being combat aggressive, the fine edge that all pilots needed to do.

James went to the shore and spent a couple of minutes studying the wind and wave directions for the next leg of the mission. He noticed Shakes was already there doing the same thing. He also noticed all the infantry loading onto their prospective crafts for the ride to the mission site.

At 21:15 hours the pilots and gunners approached their crafts. After doing the requisite external walk around they boarded their craft and started the internal checklists and start up sequences. Marcus and his Jack -O - Lanterns boarded the Big C for the ride to the raid site. They would be able to spend the time riding and recharging. The choice of the Big C for this portion was also based on the fuel cell engine, it should be a quieter ride and give them a slight stealth advantage.

They lifted off and headed into the skies, next stop Blutgarden Village, by way of Nav point alpha. Estimated flight time was 2 hours.

James listened on the company net after he had finished the start up sequence. One by one the entire flight came on announcing they were ready.

Meanwhile back at blue four, Slim had just finished doing the external walk around of his craft and hops into the cockpit. He goes through the prestart checklist and then starts going through his power up sequence and finds that his engine won’t kick over. He flips through more switches and tries again, still getting nothing. So he gives a hand signal outside the slide window. One of the As-Techs came running up. Slim motions that he seems to have a battery issue. With that information out to the As-Tech, the As-Tech turns around and makes a few hand signals. Sr. Tech Masterson sees those and relays a couple of hand signals to the other As-Tech who quickly motions to the squad of infantry that was staying to grab the small but heavy cart next to them and follow him. They literally picked it up and ran with it. They ran with it 10 meters and were not even breathing hard when they set it down. A testament to Nikita’s intensive training. One of the pieces of equipment that Sr. Tech Masterson had brought with him was a battery cart for just such an emergency. They could have most likely gotten it going by linking several cables together, but a battery cart would make it so much easier and quicker. And then once started it should be fine for the whole mission. Most likely his craft will end up needing a new battery boost upon return to the island. From this point forward the engine should never be off.

They quickly got the cart over to the copter. The second As-Tech had arrived just a moment before had stopped at the back end of the craft and had popped the appropriate panel. So as soon the cart had been set down, he grabbed the two cables and reached into the craft through the panel opening and attached them. Moments later he leaned out from the craft and gave a hand signal to the first As-Tech still at the cockpit who turned and gave a wind up motion to Slim, telling him to crank it up now. Slim flipped the buttons and hit the starter, and you could hear the APU powering up. Moments later the main starter kicked in, and the engine started coming to life. After the engine was going, the second As-Tech, in the rear, didn’t even wait for the hand signals from the first and started unhooking the cables to the battery cart handing each one to an infantry man and then closed up the panel. He then leaned out and gave a wave. With that the rest of the troopers and the second As-Tech left for the side lines again with the battery cart. The first As-Tech hung around until he got a good thumbs up from Slim and then retreated from the flight line. Due his position on the flight line, James didn’t notice any of this, only that Slim was a couple minutes late on checking in on the net with his status of green.

So at 21:40 Trouble Inc. took to the air for the second time in the same day. Shakes quickly turned her craft onto the proper heading and started climbing. They were airborne for Butgarten. Well not exactly, their goal was to hit a target reference point about 25 miles east of Blutgarten. This was a part of the overall strategy by doing this it would make it look like they had come straight from their own front lines. This would increase the message that they could go anywhere and do anything while at the same time, building in a level of deceit of where they were originating from. They would need an amount of time to refuel and repair what they could for battle damage. Before doing the long return leg home after the raid, and they didn’t need any company while they were doing it. That was the intention for the plan including this nav point.

From the ground Sr. Tech Masterson, his As-Techs and the squad of infantry watched as the attack group lifted into the air and head off, in the rapidly approaching dark, to their rendezvous with their intended target. As they were fading into the night Sr. Tech Masterson, started yelling orders to the rest of the group.

<meanwhile back in the air>

Unlike last time they didn’t climb to an extreme height, they were flying this one at a mere 250 meters. Once Shakes reached the appropriate flight altitude she levelled off her craft and set speed to cruising speed, which for this leg of the flight would be 80 klicks an hour. From here, she waited for the rest of Trouble Inc to catch up and form up. She expected red flight to take a loose spread formation in front. They did but not the way she expected. They did take a loose spread formation but they did it behind her. Then the rest of blue flight formed up in a diamond formation behind red, with blue five riding 25 meters above them and black one 25 meters below.

They had actually given her the lead of this flight, trusting that she would not let them down and would lead them exactly where they needed to go. It took Shakes a moment to realize why they hadn’t taken the formation, and when she had finally realized what they had done, and why, she started to feel herself choke up just a little bit. She actually allowed herself to feel it for the moment, and then she choked it back and continued on the mission. Happy with the fact that this crew valued her brains they way she has been looking for her whole career.

All units in Trouble Inc. dialled back power on the radios to 25%. They absolutely didn’t want anybody knowing they were there. They wouldn’t be dialling power up again until about 10 klicks out from Blutgarten. At that point in time they would be too close for the base to have any kind of response time at all.

This leg of the journey was only estimated to be about 120 klicks to the mainland and about another 25 klicks over land to the actual target. After such a long base leg flight this one was going very quickly. They had decided to maintain 20 minute navigational fixes as they had on the way to the island. They were just about to go for their fourth nav point fix when Slim picked up something on his sensors. He had a blip. After a quick check he came up on the net.

"Red four to red six, red four to red six, have sensor contact, bearing dead ahead at 5 klicks, surface target, repeat surface target. No sensor sweeps, no active scanners." Slim

James heard the message come in. That would put them right about on top of the next nav point fix. It was still too far out, they couldn’t risk being spotted, whatever this was. They needed to deal with it. They didn’t have any options.

"Red one to red six, I’ll check it out." Bastard

Bastard’s code name was an apt description. When it came to a fight he would do the job, no matter how dirty it got, he’d do it. But unlike his persona, when James had begun to realize this only a couple of months ago Bremmerhof really did care, he was just very good at hiding his feelings.

"Negative red one. Red four your checking it out." James

Red four faced the sudden shock that they had been tasked with the job, but only for the brief moment. Then red four came up on the net.

"Red four acknowledges. Moving to intercept." Slim

Slim realized that at only five klicks away the radios would have no problem reaching them at the current power levels. So he left his at the current setting and continued to move to intercept. He hit the intercom switch.

"Okay Billy Ray, heat things up but keep things in standby." Slim

Billy Ray was already a half step ahead of him, as soon as the order came he only had a couple of switches left to throw. Then he came back, which Slim felt was a little too quickly.

"Ready and in standby." Billy Ray

Again, this was something that the entire crew didn’t want to face. If this was a military vessel this would be so much better, but if it was this would be the first time they would be hearing of one. So the odds were they didn’t have one, and this was going to be a civilian craft they were approaching.

Slim was rapidly approaching the unknown craft. At two kilometres he was still getting nothing more than a sensor contact. It didn’t seem to be emitting any kind of electronic signals what so ever. He hit the intercom button.

"Okay Billy Ray, let’s see if we can get a visual on this." Slim

It was just about this time when they could see some lights up ahead. There were three white lights and a green one. The green was between the two white ones with the third white light a little higher than the green. This gave Billy Ray an easy reference point for the gun camera. Once he had found it he had tightened up the image. It was just as he expected, with the low light vision enhancement, it appeared to be a small fishing vessel. He hit the intercom switch.

"It’s just a fishing vessel man." Billy Ray

"It may be, but it was understood we couldn’t take any chances right now. We gotta do it. We ain’t gotta like it, but we gotta do it." Slim

After the brief pause where Billy Ray didn’t acknowledge Slim’s message, he came back on the intercom.

"Do you understand?" Slim

"Yeah." Billy Ray

"Let’s do it." Slim

The distance was just under a half a kilometre. Billy Ray brought the targeting scanners out of standby and into active mode. They started sweeping briefly before finding the contact immediately in front of them, and instantly the lock tone sounded.

"I’ve got a lock." Billy Ray

"You are weapons free." Slim

"Roger weapons free." Billy Ray

"Got tone, good tone." Billy Ray

Just as red four came into missile range.

"Fox two, fox two." Billy Ray

With that, Billy Ray sent a salvo of missiles towards the poor fishing boat, thinking, "They’ll never even know what hit them, I hope to god they never know what hit ‘em."

The missiles streaked out. Ten bright orange points of light flew out and quickly started to fade as they approached the shape of the fishing boat. Then they both saw through the canopy the ripple of explosions that wracked the centre of the ship. Through the bright lights of the explosions they could see pieces, more just like black shadows flying across the bright orange plumes of the explosions. They literally ripped pieces off this thing.

"What’s the damage assessment?" Slim

Billy Ray took a look. Where the cabin and the wheel house would be there wasn’t anything more. One of the fishing booms had broken off and was only being held to the craft by the ropes that were used to raise and lower it.

It was only minutely perceptible in the two seconds that followed, which was an extreme amount of time and got another prompting by Slim.

"Damage assessment?" Slim

That was when Billy Ray actually saw that the bow and stern had increased in height perceptibly. The angles proving, that they had broken the back of the fishing vessel. There probably wouldn’t be anything left but wreckage when the rest of Trouble Inc. caught up to them.

Unbeknownst to them, and it will show up in the after action damage assessment reports of the gun camera video that in the glow of the explosions and fire, would be seen a glint off a metal antenna that was stuck on to the foremast of the fishing vessel itself. What it was won’t be know, but maybe it wasn’t a fishing vessel after all?

"Main cabin and wheel house are gone, its back is broke. It’s done." Billy Ray

"Roger" Slim

Over the company net.

"Target prosecuted. All clear." Slim

So after about a klick past the target, Slim slowed down his craft letting the rest of Trouble Inc. catch up to him, and just as expected, there were only a few bits of debris floating on the water that went unseen by the rest of Trouble Inc. as it flew over the spot.

Trouble Inc. continued on along on course land should only be 20 minutes away now, approximately 25 klicks. James decided to err on the side of caution. He came up on the net.

“Red six to flight, we’re getting close, time to reduce altitude. Take it down to 100 meters.” James

With that, the flight started descending and blue flight changed their formation as well. They also went into a vee formation. Black one fell back into the middle of blue flights vee. Red flight maintained position, with only Shakes out front.

More time passed, they were down to one nav point left before land. When the time for that fix came, Shakes felt pretty comfortable they were within a half a klick of where they should be. They had been able to maintain a decent heading. There had been no cross winds at the time of lift off. So as long as that had maintained itself they should be fine. Trouble Inc. continued to push forward. According to the sub orbital recon photos that had been taken from the Event Horizon, there should have been a narrow point of land sticking out into the ocean, it was distinctive enough that they were using as a nav point. As the final few minutes to nav point alpha wound down. Hawk was the first one to spot land on his sensors at only 30 seconds beyond the time frame to reach nav point alpha. That could be a simple relative airspeed difference or it could be a very minute head wind. But with the night vision sensors looking on, realized that there was no point to the land here. It was a straight flat coastline. That is when they all realized that they were not on the prescribed course, yet again. Of course this was a little unnerving, but unlike last time, they still had more than ample fuel and they were physically over land so they were feeling better about things. This leg of the trip wasn’t that long so they couldn’t be that far off target anyway. So they proceeded on. The plan called for five more minutes at current course and speed, then they would bank sharply left and again head due west. And then it would just be a matter of time before they should run across either Blutgarten village itself, the river or the major highway. If it was Blutgarten Village then all was extremely good because they would be right where they wanted to be. If it was either the highway or the river then all they would have to do again is bank hard left and follow it to Blutgarten.

At T + 4.5 Shakes gave up the lead position by dropping down 20 meters and cutting back on power briefly to take position back with blue flight. She keyed up the company net. She didn’t say anything, just keyed the mike for 2-3 seconds of silence and released. This was the prearranged signal that they were going to try and maintain radio silence from this point forward. James had been expecting it. When he heard it he responded with two relatively short keys of the mike, still with no voice.

After Shakes changed position, it was time for the unit to bank 90 degrees hard left. This direction put them heading to Blutgarten. Now that they were settled in on this course it should be about fifteen minutes to target, give or take, because they knew they had missed the exact nav point.

Everyone else at this time had been paying attention, so they knew what to expect. It was at this point in time everybody dialled their radio power up to a full 100% and started preparing themselves. Blue flight went to night vision gear and put all sensors into passive mode. Red flight also went to night vision gear, and went to flying in passive mode putting their active sensors into standby. Every gunner in red flight had their guns in manual mode at the moment. With their night vision system up and online they were using their gun cameras to keep an eye on what was going on ahead of them.
It was prearranged that at five minutes to target, as close as they could approximate it, that they would drop their external tanks. Although most of these tanks were less than half empty, it was better to ditch all of these external tanks, these potential bombs, from their craft to protect themselves from any unwanted accidents.

Only three minutes after changing onto the inbound vector course, the horizon got a little brighter off to the left. This of course raised some attention in the flight as the night vision gear enhanced it. It took a moment for James to realize what this was. It was Blutgarten Village. It now appeared that proper vehicle maintenance wasn’t the only thing they were lacking. They also appeared to be lacking proper light discipline. Most likely, they had deemed themselves immune to any kind of offensive operations so therefore they were not even taking even the most basics of precautions in regards to light discipline. The night sky was lit up like a beacon, one that Trouble Inc. was happy to home in on.

A second quick look realized that they were only off by a minute adjustment which each pilot had unconsciously made to bring themselves back on course. This revelation was coupled with the fact that they couldn’t be more than five minutes out right now. Which meant that they were ahead of schedule, apparently there had been another cross wind that pushed them closer to their target than they had actually intended.

So far nothing was showing on the passive sensors. There wasn’t even a search radar scanning the skies. They couldn’t detect any kind of a broadcast yet, military or civilian, but given the state of technology on this planet, the civilians weren’t likely to have that kind of information anyway.

Given that they were so close James figured that now was as good a time as any, and again keyed the mike saying nothing. Two three second long silent keys. Then quietly, one by one, drop tanks, disengaged themselves and fell silently from the night sky landing unseen on the dark landscape below. Black one however, missed hearing James message, the pilot and co-pilot were having a heated discussion over the intercom over what they thought their chances were with hooking up with Shakes at some point in the future. Because both pilots agreed that she was a fighter jocks wet dream. So they continued to fly on with their fuel cell still attached and in truth the fuel cell was more explosive than the drops tanks of aviation gas.

James signal was also suppose to serve as the signal for black one to start their run in. The plan called for them to break formation, increase speed, and do the first immediate fly over of the base. They would be dropping Marcus and his Jack-o-Lanterns on this pass as long as no early warning system had been noticeably tripped. This might reduce a small amount of the element of surprise, for the rest of Trouble Inc, because the first over flight of the target was the safest. But in these circumstances, since the Big C was a civilian craft and had next to no armour and no offensive or defensive armaments, except for the cargo that it was carrying it was deemed the best course of action.

Shakes, realizing that black one was still flying position and hadn’t made a move yet, reached down and for one brief second flicked on and off her nav lights. The bright brief flash in front of the pilot and co-pilot had immediately caught their attention and now they were refocused on the mission. When they saw that they couldn’t be more than four klicks off from the target they broke formation climbing 100 meters and increased power to their full 125 kph airspeed. The two huge five bladed rotors were generating less noise at full power than the Warriors and the Ferrets at cruise speed. These blades were designed to give them the extra lift they needed for the heavy loads they needed to carry. They also had been designed to be much quieter. One of the variants for this air frame was as an executive transport shuttle, and executives like a nice quiet ride. It was cheaper in the long run to design the blades with both lift and quiet, than to have to have two separate blade assemblies. As soon as James had figured that the Big C had reached the edge of Blutgarten village he hit the intercom and said.

“Okay Pee Wee, it’s show time! Light ‘em up!” James

With that Pee Wee brought active sensors back up on line. He also flipped the switch, bringing the targeting scanners back up on line. They were full active. With that, James kicked in more power to the engines. The rest of red flight was only moments behind him.

This sudden change in electronics set off the bettys in the other crafts and moments later they too were running full active.

Blue flight delayed their speed increase, in no hurry to catch up to red flight. Red flight needed to do at least a first pass assessment of where blue flight needed to be. They also would need to shut down any immediate resistance that they found or steer clear of it altogether if indeed had been blown and this was nothing more than an elaborate trap.

The bulk of Blutgarten Village was dark they only place there seemed to be any light was around a makeshift military base. That area was lit with floodlights.


UDF Command Facility
Campus Carinthia
Carantania Principality, Novo Franklin
11 Sep 3079, 0830 Hours Local Time

Captain Zhao Zi Long, former Taurian Concordat citizen, commander of the Black Stars mercenary company, and leader of the Sharp Shooters sub-unit command was in a pensive mood. Most of the Black Stars here on Novo Franklin had already been deployed for action. The VTOLs of Trouble Inc., the Battle Armour suits of the Jack O Lanterns, as well as most of the Black Stars infantry had already deployed on the far ranging raid behind enemy lines. His Executive Officer, David Ten-Bears had also led most of the remaining Black Stars to Firebase Nova to blunt, most probably totally smash a reported New Saars advance.

Insisting that SOMEONE from the Black Stars remained back in UDF Headquarters in case of any further unexpected emergencies, Zi Long had been 'volunteered' for the task. The truth was, Zi Long's Morningstar had yet to fire a single shot. Not a shot even from its trio of Slingshot machine guns against the terrorists rabble on Fujidera, nothing in the first six months on Novo Franklin since most of his tasks had been coordination and planning rather than combat, and not even when the Black Stars were deployed en masse for the first time in the operation to relieve the siege on Cosco Fiefdom. Zi Long so wanted to hit something. ANYTHING. Furthermore, the constant nagging from Trenchard, as well as from assorted members of the UDF and Franklin Trustees Council had drove him up the walls. Added to all that was the inexhaustible string of dizzy headed noble women who had flashed their overly endowed and nearly non-clothed bosoms, as well as their non too subtle winks at him. Even a dead piece of log would have caught their suggestive gestures and overtly aggressive predation. Zi Long was no rotted wood. However, he was also not a goat on heat that would have coupled with just about any moving target.

When reports came in from another sector of the New Saars and UDF borders about confirmed enemy movement, Zi Long had started a little dance at the thought of him finally seeing some REAL action - and away from the Novo Franklin nobles. He had abruptly stopped his little jiggy when he remembered all he had at his immediate disposal was his sixty ton wheeled vehicle - and the location of the enemy sightings were more than a thousand kilometres away.

He was about to howl to the heavens at how Murphy ALWAYS seemed to pick on him when an idea suddenly hit him like a runaway train. He went to his room, and switched on his personal communicator.

The voice on the other side sounded bored – extremely bored. "Yeah, what’s up?"

The unrestrained joy in Zi Long's voice was a complete contrast at the respond. "I have need for you and your good services now bro. NOW."

Approaching Supply Depot
New Saars Territory
Novo Franklin
11 September 3079 2330 Hrs

No-one spoke, there was no need for it. After more than two weeks of planning and drills everyone knew their assigned tasks, the time for talk was over, it was now time for action.

The VTOL was running lights out, so it was dark inside the cabin. The four armour suited troopers of the Jack o’ Lanterns were strapped into their seats, a small cable plugged into their suits to keep the battery packs topped up. While the Nighthawks were the pinnacle of modern body armour, they were no more than dead weight if the battery packs ran out. Even with the extended life support, which included batteries, it was one of their main weaknesses.

At close to twenty thousand feet, Markus was hoping that the VTOL’s passage would go undetected by anyone on the ground. It was a risk, but to get the timing right his group would have to drop in advance of the Trouble Inc assault, so that they were blowing in through the roof of the bar trying to look for officers or nobles or both at the same time that the first explosions started elsewhere. A few seconds here or there wouldn’t matter, if the Jack ‘o Lanterns hit first then the defenders would be distracted from the main assault, and vice versa. That is, so long as no-one noticed the four streaks of flame descending from the sky beforehand. It was a long shot.

“Two minutes to drop zone,” the pilot droned through the closed comms.

Markus didn’t need to see the preparations his counterparts were making, just as he didn’t need light to make his own. He hit the release for the harness that was holding him in place, then removed the charge cable, which snaked away back into the wall of the helo. He systematically checked his weapons, making sure they were functional and strapped tight, followed by all the Nighthawk Suit systems, especially the jump jets, oddly enough. Any failure could jeopardise his own health in a fairly major way, not to mention the mission in general.

“One minute, opening bay door.”

A change in the vibrations coursing through the speeding chopper signalled that the rear door was opening, followed by deafening noise. A low spectrum light painted the inside of infantry bay, lighting it up for the Nighthawk’s night vision sensors to drink in. Markus moved to the back of the bay, followed in order by Lockout, Remedy and Luna.

“Thirty seconds.”

Time stood still as Markus looked down. They were still over the ocean, the inky blackness below unbroken by any lights. The drop was taking place just as the VTOL crossed the coast, leaving the final distance to be covered in the descent. It seemed the lowest risk option. Behind and below them, Markus knew that the rest of Trouble Inc and the infantry were speeding in to take part in their own mission, silently he wished them well. In a way, both missions relied on each other. The Jack o’ Lanterns would disrupt the chain of command, while Trouble Inc would soak up the forces responding to the attack.

“Ten seconds to drop zone… five, four, three, two, one, GO GO GO!”

Without hesitation, Markus launched himself directly out the rear door. He was immediately assaulted by a fierce wind that threatened to send him into a violent spin. Riding out the buffeting wind, he spread his arms and legs out to control the dive before leaning to rotate his body toward the target. The altimeter numbers in the head up display in his helmet rolled downward at a rapid rate, passing ten thousand feet in what seemed like seconds.

At three thousand feet Markus rapidly adjusted his angle of attack so that he was falling feet first. At two thousand feet he fired a controlled burn of his suits jump jets, bleeding off more than half of his speed. This was the danger of a jet descent, there was no disguising the trail of flame that they were descending on. He cut the jets, freefalling again until he was about four hundred feet above the target, and then fired his jets again, his suit fighting against gravity to slow his insane fall and prevent a Markus pancake.

It worked, at twenty feet above the building Markus came to a complete stop. Cutting the jets he dropped to the roof below, going to one knee to soak up the impact. Out of habit he brought his Mauser laser rifle up to the ready position and swept the rooftops for activity, there was nothing.

He avoided looking up, again out of habit, to prevent losing his night vision to the incoming jets of his squad mates, despite the fact that the suit would automatically dim to prevent that occurrence. Old habits die hard.

The rifle went onto the ground next to him, as Markus tore at the tape that was holding a small package into his leg. He slapped it down onto a clear patch of roof as he heard muffled thuds indicating the arrival of his comrades, one, two three. All down, no reports. The drop was successful.

“Clear.”

Stepping away and going into a crouch, Markus counted down under his breath.

“Three, two, one…”

Boom.

Chucks of cement flew, and a small dust cloud could be seen as a beam of light shone up through the newly formed, jagged edged hole that had been blown through into the top floor of the building. At around two metres across it was a tad larger than Markus had been expecting.

A few shouts echoed up from the street below, but those were ignored as Luna and Lockout pulled the pin on grenades and tossed them into the hole. A loud bang and extremely bright flash was accompanied by screams of agony, the debilitating flashbang grenades doing their work.

“No civilian casualties,” he reminded his squad, “Let’s go.”

Stepping forward, Markus led the way, jumping through the hole and into the unknown.


Blutgarten Village
Supply Depot
11th September 3079
23:31hrs

Raid in Progress

Red Flight flew over the over the river and saw the entire deck of the coastal cargo ship and the dock were lit with flood lights. They also saw a crew of about 30 peasants unloading the small ship while under guard of about 2 squads of infantry. Next to them on the left were stacks of crates with tarps thrown over some of them. Further off to the left was the fuel dump. They were using what looked like a water tower and had already constructed two more bulk fuel tanks. There were at least a half dozen trucks refuelling over there. To the right there were two large Quonset huts, one was only partially finished. There was also a Scorpion tank parked between them.

Just in front of the crates were 3 trucks headed for the front gate off to the right. In front of the main gate were parked over a dozen trucks and beside them was a Scorpion tank. On the other side of the trucks was a 3 story tower with an additional two stories for the radio antenna. Behind that was a stone building with sandbag revetments with machine guns around it and on top of it. Beside it was another Scorpion tank in its’ own sandbag revetment. Beside the building were two tents. Beside them were another 9 tents and a couple of sandbagged machine guns. Then over in the far left corner was a lit up tent park. It was surrounded by a fence and guard towers.

With the visual snapshot now complete, red flight pressed their attack home. They swept in over the river, straight over the dock area and the crates. It was at this time that all the people started pouring out of the tents on the far side of the base. Now that they were closer they could actually see a few machine guns near the tents. This made them a priority target.

Red one, red four, and red five cut loose with their TharHes 4 racks at about 210 meters. Those flight teams had chosen to arm their bins with fragmentation missiles. So when they cut loose on the figures emerging from the tents, there was some extreme pain being felt. Brief glimpses showed bodies being sheered in half and a few limbs could be seen flying as well. And this was before red six flew overhead. As soon as James reached the tents he toggled off one of the two pieces of ordinance he was carrying. This piece was a cluster munition. They worked the same way as a high explosive bomb, except just after release the actual casing itself broke apart spewing a large cloud of smaller fragments each the size of a baseball. Each of these fragments was its own separate high explosive round. So instead of having a destructive radius of 30 meters in diameter this one had a radius of 60 meters in diameter. This round landed on target, right in the middle of the tents. The effect was literally devastating. The explosion wasn’t one large bang but a rippled wave of orange blossom explosions erupting in, on and all around the tents. James tried not to think of the agony he had just inflicted on all those infantry troopers who look like they just got roused from a night’s sleep and concentrated on the mission at hand.

Just after they completed their pass, red three and red one broke off peeling left. Red five and red six peeled right and a moment later red two and red four also peeled right, swinging around for their second pass.

Red one and red three after swinging around, were facing the fenced in compound and saw the people starting to emerge from the tents inside the compound.

Over the intercom in Red three.

"Looks like they got POW’s! They got POW’s!" Alice

Gunther manning the guns, was slewing them around and stated.

"Well let’s kick open a door while we are here!" Gunther

Red three took the lead. As Alice came screaming over the top of the compound, Gunther laid the sights on and at about 210 meters he cut loose with the Tanguray 10 followed moments later by the Holly four rack. All missiles were flying hot and true and erupted around the main gate totally shredding it in the process. Where once a heavy main gate stood there was no more.

"That should hopefully give the bastards a fighting chance." Gunther

Red one following behind saw what red three had done. They also watched as machine guns on either side of the main gate and all three guard towers nearby open up on red three as they flew through. Bremmerhof thought the gunners were stupid, at first, that normal machine guns wouldn’t have the range to reach out and even touch red one, except for the ones at the main gate which they almost literally flew over. But as they reached out they actually connected with red one. Bremmerhof and Constantine watched as machine gun rounds connected with the sides of red three. Their red tracers were followed with sparks as they chewed armour off both the left, right, and front sides of the craft. These weren’t standard machine guns they were a lighter version, less damage, but boasted twice the range. As red three flew over where the front gate use to be that was when they realized that there was more trouble a foot. Because, again those weren’t standard machine guns they had guarding the front gate, but heavies! The sheer firepower they put out was easily discernable from the heavy green tracer streams they were throwing up, and even more armour was stripped off red three in the process.

"Constantine, get those guns!" Bremmerhof over the intercom

Constantine immediately set up the fire resolution. The volley out of the Tanguray 10 reached out and connected with the left gate gun, erupting in bright orange blossoms and fiery red explosions. Sandbags went everywhere. Hidden in the sandbags were the bodies of the two man crew running that gun.

A brief moment later the Holly tubes also cut loose sending their load of shrapnel into the sandbag revetment. Two missiles actually landed inside the sandbags when they went off. They would need some extremely good Graves Registration Unit personnel to ID those people.

Red one also got lit up with machine gun fire from one of the towers as they passed. Bremmerhof actually saw the bright spark off the rotor blade as one or more rounds from that burst connected with it.

After the first pass Red two, red four, red five and red six had broken right. During their swing they discovered that there had been a gun carrier behind the two separated tents. They discovered this when the gun crew of the weapons carrier’s two Sarlon Long Lance auto cannons started barking out their meagre defence. The muzzle flashes were brighter than the tracers they spat out. The crew did, however, managed to catch red five in the side with one of their bursts rending armour from the craft. The burst caught Hawk by surprise. Instead of breaking for range as most pilots would, he stayed true to his training and stayed with the flight and turned back to the base for the second pass.

They were all boring in on the stone building with the machine gun nest around and on top of it. At three hundred meters red four, red five and red six loosed their volleys of LRMs at the stone building. It was a strong structure, so it didn’t completely destroy the building but there were now several holes and large gaping section in the west wall. The volley had also managed take out at least one of the rooftop machine guns in the process. That corner of the roof had been blasted away in the volley.

As they closed, red four and red five also loosed their volleys of fragmentation missiles across the roof of the building. Red six also loosed their volley of high explosive missiles at the same time. Together they created such a storm of blasts and shrapnel that they silenced all the guns up there. No one saw any movement on the roof top as the trio, continuing their pass, flew over the building.

Red two had been planning on joining in on the attack on the building but the shots from the gun carrier had caught her attention. She pulled through the turn with the rest of the group but continued the turn while the others straightened for their pass. When she straightened out she was heading straight for the gun carrier.

"Gun Carrier!" Bo Peep said over the intercom

Darnell couldn’t help but notice the bright flashing lights of the gun carrier’s muzzles in front of him. This made it easy for him to zero in on his target. Bo Peep had no sooner straighten out when he cut loose with the volley of missiles from the Tanguray 10. Bo Peep’s gunner in red two was Darnell, call sign "Dead Shot." This call sign was given to him back at the academy. It was more a sarcastic representation of his shooting skills than anything else. He had barely been able to pass his gun quals and able to graduate. Since then his gunnery skill had improved but still it wasn’t much more than marginal. This proved itself when he fired the missiles, for they missed the intended target, of the gun carrier altogether by a good 10 meters. Instead of hitting the gun carrier, they ended up plowing into one of the two tents behind it.

"DARNELL!" came from Bo Peep over the intercom.

Bo Peep didn’t need to say anymore. She had already declared the target and he missed it. He proceeded to line up the short range missiles on the weapons carrier and managed to get a lock. When he had it, he triggered off the volley of short range missiles. Darnell was hoping to destroy the gun carrier. He knew the missiles were flying true and were going to hit. He was expecting the gun carrier to go up in a ball of flames from the missiles since the target carried practically no armour to speak of. But Darnell didn’t get the results that he wanted because he had forgotten that his craft had been one of the three that was carrying fragmentation missiles for its short range launchers. So when they impacted all over the top of the gun carrier there was just a very large shower of sparks. This accounted for 3 of the 4 missile that he had fired. The fourth one, miraculously given his shooting skills, had somehow managed to impact on the floor of the open topped gun carrier. So when it actually exploded it was the equivalent of a very large grenade going off inside a pill box. That frag missile wiped out the 3 man crew. The gunner and both loaders, the victims of the fragments in such an enclosed space had instantly become vaporized. It wasn’t intended as to how that gun run was suppose to go but Dead Shot had managed to silence the gun, for now.

<< Cut Scene>>

Alice and Gunther had received some tremendous damage from flying over the compound gate. Having been the target of 5 machine guns and hit by no less than four of them. Alice had to fight the stick tremendously to keep the craft stable and horizontal. After the barrage she immediately started checking her system panels for damage. This was more difficult than normal considering almost every light in the craft was flashing. Three seconds later she was still paranoid but she knew her craft would live. Surprisingly no major flight control systems had been damaged. Several secondary systems had been though.

As Bo Peep brought red five over the now dead gun carrier, both she and Darnell noticed the Scorpion tank parked in its own sand bag bunker next to the HQ building. Of course it was way too late on this pass to do anything about it, but she definitely marked it down on her mental map of targets to come back and reengage. The good news was that there didn’t seem to be any signs of life or activity in it at this time.

After notating this she altered heading to rejoin the group as they few west back across the compound.

"Red two, weapons carrier twelve o’ clock! The rest of you, with me. Scorpion twelve o’ clock!" James said over the company net.

Just as they passed the tower a light machine gun opened up and attempted to make contact with red flight. The gunner had been trying to decide whether to run or fight. But when the three helicopters decided to fly that close to him he felt he could at least get a shot at them before running. It would look and sound better later when they had found he had left his post. Luckily for today, all circuits were busy and the tracers streamed by harmlessly.

The Scorpion tank at the front gate was a different story altogether. The muzzle flashes from the auto cannon were seen arcing their way toward red flight along with the smaller almost obscured flashes from the coaxial mounted machine gun on the tank. Luckily the gunner in the tank wasn’t used to fighting against aerial targets and had totally miscalculated the speed. Because of this he didn’t lead the target enough and his shots ended up punctuating the sky with red tracers behind red flight as they passed. It’s machine gunner on the other hand, though also not trained for anti aircraft attacks was known for expending more ammo than was necessary. When asked, "he loved seeing the little glowy lights go out." So as soon as he could justify it he clamped down on the trigger in advance of the targets and just kept the trigger pulled. The results were that he made contact with red six. James felt the impacts from the machine gun against the side of his craft and further heard the alarm warnings go off from them. A quick glance at the lights confirmed he had only taken minor damage. "Minor damage? Hell he ripped 40% of the armour off the port side of my craft!" James thought to himself. Luckily nothing penetrated the armour. James resumed lining up his shot at the Scorpion tank he was rapid approaching. All three craft fired at once. Each gunner tracked the missiles toward his target. When the missiles were about half way to target they saw the muzzle of the Scorpion starting to emit steady pulses of light. This exchange wouldn’t be one sided.

This wasn’t the actual tank crew manning the tank, it was the maintenance section. The chief master of arms was actually manning the gun. The results were quickly seen as one of the inbound missiles made solid contact with one of the rising shells. The explosion itself knocked a couple more out of the air. Sending them corkscrewing off in different directions. But the bulk of the missiles landed home onto that Scorpion tank.

The explosions rocked the front of the tank severely. Armour plates buckled and shattered. The Quikscell armour was showing why it was never the choice of anybody who could afford better. James’ sensors were reporting that the front armour was breached and the tank was almost but not quite dead. More missiles had buffeted the turret as well. It was lucky it was still working.

The auto cannon shells coming back also found their mark on the lead craft, red six. The jolts from the impact, made it feel like James was hitting a series of mid air speed bumps slowing his craft down.

The forward momentum James had carried him past and over the Quonset hut the vehicle had been parked in. James also noted in amongst all his warning bells, buzzers and beeps the tell tale high pitched screeching that represented the sharp increase in the electromagnetic distortion that was caused by sudden power ups of fusion containment bottles.

"REACTOR, REACTOR, REACTOR!" James screamed over the company net

The reaction across the rest of Trouble Inc. was the feeling of an instantaneous gut wrenching knife into the belly. That was the last thing anyone wanted to hear around here. All save one was true military, so when they heard reactor they immediately thought mech.

Bo Peep had almost brought red five back into the group when James order came through. Through the ships sensors she could see what was going on outside almost as if it were daylight. What she saw there in front of her, sitting in between the Quonset hut and stack of crates was a gun carrier. She also saw the crew of men in coveralls running for the gun carrier. Though at this distance she couldn’t tell that they were grease and oil stained from a mechanics pool versus a gun crews.

"Gun carrier dead ahead and DON"T YOU FUCKING MISS!" Mary said over the intercom.

Darnell also had heard the target assignment by James and had already started lining up his shot from half way across the compound. He was only fine tuning his shot when Mary’s order came in.

This time Darnell’s shot rang true. The straight on approach with a long setup time helped improved his aim some. At 200 meters Darnell pulled the trigger. The LRMs leaping out of the launch tubes of the Tanguray 10 and streaked towards their target. 200 meters later they impacted against the gun carrier. The missile explosions stopped the mechanics dead in their tracks. They turned and started running back to the Quonset hut and the safety they thought it would provide. Darnell quickly flipped over to the short range missiles, slewed the targeting reticule a little to the left and loosed the volley at the running men. Half the missiles flew long and the other half were a little short. If these missiles had been high explosive these men probably would have lived. But the detonations of the frag missiles spewed enough shrapnel that it caught these men, and Darnell watched them, all fall down mid run. As the men lay there bleeding one of them could actually hear the secondary explosions as the ammo in the gun carrier started cooking off. Without proper containment, as the rounds stored in the ready racks, cooked off they blew off and shattered the haphazardly welded, Quikscell armour plates. As the poor technician lay there bleeding and feeling cold creep through him from the shrapnel wounds he had received, he wondered if one of those rounds would actually end the agony he was in. It was the last thought he had as wound shock and loss of blood caused his heart to stop beating. The reflections of the small fuel spill fires reflecting from his dead and lifeless eyes.

After passing through the gauntlet of machine gun fire and miraculously surviving, or so Alice felt and Gunther wasn’t far behind on that one either, Gunther quickly scanned the area looking for new targets. Given the angle of the pass the best target was the Scorpion at the front gate.

"Best target is the Scorpion at the front gate" Gunther said over the intercom

That seemed to be where the rest of red flight was at the moment too. Alice altered course for the front gate, lining up for a run on the Scorpion. Bastard was close behind her. All four members of this small wing pair saw the tracers lift out of the tower at the Trouble Inc. copters.

Constantine and Gunther didn’t have any distractions whatsoever on lining up their shots against the Scorpion at the front gate. So when they broke 400 meters they launched their long range missiles at the Scorpion at the front gate. If you were to compare the service jackets of the two men, Gunther was the much better shot. So it was surprising when the shot missed, even to Gunther. He watched as his shot went high and wide hitting a section of the fence behind it. Gunther started running some diagnostics to try and find out what was going on.

Constantine watched his missiles slam into the turret and a single missile flew lowered and blew off a piece of the tread.

"At least we will know where to find the damn thing now." Bremmerhof thought to himself.

They continued to close, because a single volley of long range missiles is nowhere near enough to stop a Scorpion tank unless you get really lucky. They had just made it about half way across the field when all hell started breaking loose in red one.

Multiple thunderous thuds reverberated through the craft, tossing both men about in the cockpit. Alarms and buzzers were going off everywhere. Both Constantine and Bremmerhof were looking around trying to find out what had happened. Why the entire right side armour had been peeled off their craft. Then they saw the tracers rounds flying by the cockpit. All the while Bremmerhof was fighting hard to maintain control of the craft. There were serious sparks emitting from one of Constantine’s consoles. So much so that he hit the switch initiating the fire suppressant gasses flooding that whole bank of consoles suppressing any sparks and extinguishing any fires in side it.

"Red one to flight, red one to flight, taking fire! Starboard side! I need help! I need help!" Bremmerhof said over the company net.

He was still struggling with the rudder and cyclic trying to maintain control of his craft while also trying to dodge enemy cannon shells. Constantine was busy at the same time trying to determine how much damage he had happen to his equipment.

Alice immediately pulled hard right when she heard Bremmerhof’s call on the net. She was his wing man. He was her responsibility as she had been taught by James, Eugene and also by Bremmerhof. Her hard turn broke off her engagement of the Scorpion tank. She ended up pulling hard enough to be able to see the stream of tracers and dull flashes of light issuing forth from between a couple of the stacks of crates.

"Found him! Target in the stacks! Target in the stacks! I’m on him!" Alice yelled over the net.

She said this a split second before Gunther came over the intercom

"Targeting system is fucked! Going to manual!"

With the entire front end of her craft mangled by machine gun fire she shouldn’t be engaging targets but she continued on anyway. She dropped her nose and started heading for the river.

Up front Gunther was fighting with the targeting system. It looked like all computer targeting systems were down. Apparently one of the machine guns had hit something in the targeting system. Even the gun camera was shot. So without hesitation he did what he knew he had to do. He reached into his flight bag beside him and pulled out a static sheet transparency, which he started immediately tacking up on the perspex. There were 4 tiny marks on the canopy, he placed them there back when they were doing manual targeting drills. He lined up the marks with the sheet corners and affixing it with stay tack. The static sheet would stick to the canopy like a magnet but he was also tacking it there to make sure it didn’t slide out of place.

Bremmerhof, in red one, by instinct this time, knowing the damage was severe broke left trying to increase the distance between him and his assailant. Alice could see the tracer rounds chasing after Bremmerhof.

"Evasive, evasive! He is still after you!" Alice shouted over the net.

Bremmerhof’s course took him over the burning pyre of tents. He neither had time nor inclination to look. Of course Alice’s warning over the net was a little redundant with all the tracer rounds screaming by his craft searching the night for him.

He pretty much had regained control of his craft at this point and started jinking trying to throw off the aim of the gun crew.

After screaming out his warning, James broke hard right.

"Two with me." James said over the net.

"Three with me!" Hawk said over the net.

Hawk immediately broke left after passing over the Quonset hut.

Hawk and Slim were pulling 2 Gs as they banked hard trying to swing around to engage the tank at the front gate. The tank crew at the gate had locked onto them and was continuing to traverse the turret trying to get a shot on one or both of them. The turret wasn’t turning fast enough to keep up with them so the cannon rounds were punching holes where they had just been. The coaxial machine gun was also spraying empty sky right beside the cannon rounds. As soon as they had pulled around enough to get a sight picture, Bubba Joe and Billy Ray both cut loose with their long range missiles at the Scorpion tank. Unfortunately the range was such that they were well under minimum arming distance for these missiles. They didn’t have enough time to effectively lock onto the target and arm. So the shot was more of a spraying effect, and none of their missiles hit their target at all. The gunners in that Scorpion tank were also extremely scared and immediately thankful for their luck. Hawk and Slim continued overhead and then after getting out far enough banked right trying to get clear.

Meanwhile in red 3, Alice went screaming over the cargo boat in a shallow descent. After clearing the mast she pulled back hard right on the stick and applied full military power to the blades. To all the men on the cargo boat it looked like she was going to be powering in to the water until her last second pull out. Then it looked like she was getting ready for a water touch down. At this point Gunther had gotten 3 corners tacked in place before he had to cram both hands up onto the canopy and push hard to try and keep his face from impacting it with Alice’s hard turn.

But Alice was a pro at piloting rotary wings, all downward movement had been halted at about a meter above the water and she started angling back toward the crates. The stacks of crates had been piled up in rows 4 meters high. There were two sets but they had been offset from each other. A brief two seconds later Alice found what she was looking for. A line of sight down one stack and into the corner of the other one. And there sitting just at the edge of her line of sight was the Scorpion tank. There appeared to be cammo netting thrown over the top of the ends of the crates of those isles creating a shelter so to speak for the tank. Alice could see a guy standing in the turret hatch pointing at the sky and yelling. They hadn’t been noticed yet. They were still concentrating on Bremmerhof.

"Okay Gunth light ‘em up!" Alice said over the intercom.

He was no sooner able to push himself back upright in his seat when Alice’s came over the intercom. He said out loud to himself "Good enough for now."

With all these major systems down, he was literally going to have to eyeball his shot. Even though the distance couldn’t be more than 90 meters.

"Manual targeting is pretty much shot too. Gonna’ have to do this the old old fashioned way. " Gunther said over the intercom.

With that he flipped a switch, grabbed the small joy stick servo on his far left, and jerked it a little bit. It was the emergency piloting joystick for the gunner, in case the pilot had an accident. Alice felt her stick twitch in her hands and released her grip on it.

"You got it!" Alice

"I’ve got it!" said Gunther

With that he twitched his hand a little bit and lined up his hand drawn gun sight on the static sheet with his target. While he was doing that he was flipping switches on the right bank console, and after not getting the tone he wanted in his ear he reached down to the right hand panel below his seat and pulled the two levers located there. These were the manual arming levers for the missiles. He now had them armed in the tubes. Furthermore from now on all missiles loading into the tubes would be hot coming out of the bins. He knew he wouldn’t get any kind of tone on the manual arming procedure. So as soon as he had lined up his shot he triggered the missiles. All missiles in all tubes immediately sprang forth from their racks towards the back of the Scorpion nestled tightly in the isle between the crates.

<<Cut Scene>>

Tank commander Tobin was standing in his tank hatch directing fire at the enemy helicopter. They had been lounging around their tank almost asleep after working on replacing a bogey wheel and a section of lag most of the day and half the evening. They had been roused by Trouble Inc.’s first pass. They had quickly manned their stations and were rewarded moments later by a pair of enemy helicopters crossing their line of fire. They had just gotten a good piece of one of them a moment ago, just before he started breaking off.

"The bastard is trying to get away, but he ain’t out of range yet." Tobin thought to himself.

He was yelling down obscenities to his gunner trying to urge him on to hit his mark better. It shouldn’t be that hard to hit a moving target.

It was then that he got a weird feeling up his back, setting the hairs on the nape of his neck on end. That’s when he looked back over his right shoulder. That was also the split second that Gunther pulled the trigger. The last thing Commander Tobin saw was the attack helicopter, with the entire front end mangled hovering only a mere 5 meters over the river. He then saw a whole bunch of orange halo circles erupting from the wings and underneath the craft. Each halo was a rocket engine plume that hadn’t been blotted out completely by the missile body as they left their launch tubes and streaked towards his Scorpion, him and his crew.

The distance to the target would have been normally well under the minimum lock on range of the long range missiles, but with the missiles already armed in the tubes they automatically entered terminal guidance mode as they cleared the launch tubes and streaked towards the ass end of the tank in front of them. The missiles didn’t get a chance to deviate over the extremely short distance and all of them impacted into the back end of the tank around the engine exhaust vent.

The 4 individual short range missiles being mounted on the wing roots on either side of the cockpit weren’t grouped any where near as tightly. Two of them plowed into the back of the tank adding to the concussive detonation of the LRMs that had been launched. The sheer destructive power of this volley had blown through the rear armour like it was paper and slammed into the tanks engine block, rupturing fuel lines and starting small electrical fires. These effects lead to the secondary effects that immediately followed. The sparks ignited the fuel from the ruptured lines and chased it back to the fuel tank which was only on the other side of a very thin fire wall.

The remaining two short range missiles missed their mark. One impacting into the crates on one side of the turret. The explosion ripping chunks of the wooden crate off and sending the lethal wooden shrapnel back into the isle.

The last missile missed the tank by mere centimetres, but what it didn’t miss was the soft target of Tank Commander Tobin as he was standing in the hatch staring back in shock and awe at the attack helicopter behind him. The missile impacted his body at over 550 mph. The commanders body was not hard enough to set off the contact detonator so the missile just drove itself through his body and out the other side. The stabilization fins of the missile that had snapped into their open positions after leaving the launch tube finished slicing through the remainder of the poor soldier’s body. The missile continued down and bounced off the crate behind him landing on the ground still sputtering smoke from the rocket engine.

A brief two seconds later it didn’t matter anymore as the entire tank erupted in a ball of fire. The flames had made it back to the actual fuel tank and ignited the contents in a rather explosive manner.

Alice watched Gunther’s shot and the resultant fireball.

"That Bastard is dead!" Alice said over the command net.

"I ain’t nowheres near dead yet darlin’" Bremmerhof responded.

"Sorry. Um … Your clear." Alice

"Thank you. Now get your ass moving! Speed is life, so don’t be a sitting duck!" Bremmerhof.

Supply Depot
New Saars Territory
Novo Franklin
11 September 3079
2340 Hrs

Muffled coughs and groans filtered through the dusty air, competing with the thumping of loud music from below, as Markus thudded to the floor of the top story of the building. Immediately bringing his rifle up to his shoulder he dropped a guard that was fumbling for a rifle as he stepped forward to make space for the others.

A thud from behind indicated that Remedy was in, confirmed in Markus’ 360 panorama strip at the top of the Nighthawk helmet’s visor. Immediately after followed Luna and Lockout, the former stepping toward Markus while the latter followed Remedy.

Markus halted while Luna raised a bulky looking pistol which silently spat projectiles at two women that were writhing on the ground clutching their ears. Almost instantly they fell limp and silent, testament to the strength of the drugs in the needles that Luna was carrying.

Moving to the first door, Markus dropped his shoulder and barged straight through the flimsy wood. Immediately behind him, Luna stepped in and put a dart in a portly man that was desperately trying to put on a pair of pants, followed by the screaming, bleeding woman who was tied to the bed. Markus grimaced at the scene but knew better than to glance at Luna, she was a hardened soldier and could handle herself in these situations, though a conversation might follow. Without breaking stride Markus covered the short distance to the bed, pulling his vibro-katana as he went and slashing the woman’s bindings. She had little chance of escaping but it was better than nothing.

Putting a horizontal slash on the door as he exited, Markus ignored the next three doors and took up station at the thick looking door that led to the top of the stairs. The commotion had yet to filter down to the lower level, which thumped with music so loud that it would have probably concealed a carpet bombing exercise outside the building. Upstairs was a different matter, as doors began to open and a mix of people with confused emotions began spilling out: confused, scared, angry. None took more than two steps before they were dropped, either with a dart or with a laser beam if they looked armed and dangerous. The floor was clear in less than three minutes.

“We get anyone important?” Markus asked, still covering the stairwell.

“Hard to tell when they are all naked,” quipped Remedy in return.

“Search the rooms and find out, I’ll hold the stairs.”

There were fifteen rooms on the upstairs floor, and ten had been checked before the music suddenly cut out downstairs and voices were raised shouting directions. Either someone in the street had finally reported the explosion on the roof or James Lockheart’s raid had just begun. Either way, things just got more interesting.

“That’s our cue people, let’s go!”

Charging through the door, and forgoing the stairs, Markus jumped over the rail and dropped directly to the floor below. Five thumps from his underslung mini-grenade launcher were followed by the familiar cracking sound and light of the flash-bang grenades. Any visible guards fell to the laser beam, even as the other members of the team followed behind with further flash-bangs.

Last to the floor, Lockout tossed smoke-emitting canisters into the corners and one into the centre of the room. It reduced visibility, but anyone left standing quickly fell to the ground unconscious as the gas did its work. It was a customised mix prepared by Lockout himself, and Markus had to admit he was impressed. Not that he had the time to express that regard.

“Luna, Remedy, block the doors then search this lot for anyone that looks important. Cuff the men as you go.”

They had had least twenty minutes before any of the occupants woke up, but that didn’t mean that there wouldn’t be a response from elsewhere. Markus checked his watch, they had ten minutes before the pickup was arranged and… there it was right on time. A slight shudder of the ground gave evidence to the beginning to the depot raid as something large exploded. Markus smiled.

“Got one!” Luna called.

“Got two!” Remedy called right back.

Each unceremoniously dumped a limp, well-dressed body at the base of the stairwell.

“Three and four, how many did we have upstairs?” Markus added as he collar dragged two more limp forms after plastic zip-tying the hands and feet of five other candidates first.

“Four likely, and two maybes,” answered Lockout.

“These two are better.”

Markus turned and saw Luna holding up a pair of well dressed and perfectly groomed men that she had picked up from the middle of the dance floor, bringing a wolfish grin to his face. With their picks made quickly they had time for the more psychologically aimed aspect of the mission.
“Good. You three start hauling, and set up the black-light beacon. I’ll finish down here.”

Without a word of argument the three well-built troopers hefted a body onto a shoulder and started up the stairs. Each would have been able to perform the feat without augmentation, but the extra strength of the Nighthawk suits allowed them to do it again and again without fatigue.

Checking his watch again, Markus turned to his new task. Shouldering his rifle on its sling he again took out his much-used vibro-katana. Carefully slipping the blade up the closest man’s leg he sliced off his clothes, head to foot, leaving only the boots in place. The result was a naked, face down enemy soldier tied hand behind back and feet together. It took about fifteen seconds a person, slightly more if they hadn’t yet been bound.

“Jobs done. Three minutes boss, and you should see the flames out there, it’s beautiful,” Remedy said with a whistle as he walked back down the stairs, “We are ready to go, and upstairs is done.”

“Good, help me finish this.”

There were three parts to the plan. The first was to kidnap as many high ranking types as they could get their hands on while minimising civilian casualties, which meant women and children. Second, pending time constraints was added a little psychological pain, to be achieved through the trussing and de-robing of all and sundry. Third was to add some real pain and further humiliation. It was, of course, Remedy’s idea. The man was fiendishly imaginative at times.

Pulling an item off the opposite leg to that which had held the explosives for the roof, Markus flicked a small switch on the implement and listened to the little device begin to hum, followed by a green ready light and a very faint wisp of smoke off the element that hung off the end.

If this doesn’t wind the bastards up, nothing will.

Markus leaned down and pressed the ready element onto the nearest enemy buttock, seeing a satisfying wisp of smoke. He held it there for about five seconds before standing and admiring his handiwork.

There, clear as day and, when the unfortunate woke up extremely painful, was the Star symbol of the Black Stars, about three inches across in size, branded into the man’s butt cheek.

“Try explaining that to your boss bucko!” Markus said with a grin, “Finish ‘em off then let’s get out of here. I think a celebration is in order!”

Markus could only imagine the reaction when this mob were found, defeated and branded like sheep. The War Master would blow his lid, and, Markus thought slyly, Zhao would laugh his arse off all the way back to Terra.

Throne Room
“Dominance Tor”, Gould Clan Fortress
New Saar Capitol, Novo Franklin
18 September 3079, 0900 Hours Local Time

“And just what do you have to say for yourselves?” War Master Gould hissed at the small group of uniformed men before him. “I pay such an exorbitant amount, and STILL my troops are unable to advance…. Worse still, those filthy scum that Posavski hired strike at will whenever they choose and my troops seem to be unable to stop them! I hired you to aid me in my conquest, not stand by and drain my treasury for no return!” The old man ranted at his guests. “WHERE are the rest of your forces?! What do you plan to do about the situation!? I tell you now, if I do not see some results soon, I may have to rethink our relationship.” The last sentence was delivered in a low tone of menace, with a glance to the window, where several writhing bodies could be seen impaled in the courtyard.

After a moment of silence, one of the men stepped forward. Middle aged and weather beaten, the man fit the stereotype of a long-service NCO perfectly. In fact, many casting directors would reject him for such a role as being TOO perfectly fitting it.

The man spoke calmly, clearly not intimidated by the War Master’s threat. “And just what, exactly did you expect for results? You and your forces asked our advice and recommendations, this is true. You then proceeded to ignore over ninety percent of them, in favour of your own plans and traditional methods. How then, could you expect any other results than the same as had come before?”

Gould’s face darkened. “Have a care, Mercenary!” He hissed. “I’ve had men killed for less insolence than that!”

The man nodded. “And that is part of the problem…. Your Officers are fearful to speak hard truths to you, or to deliver unpleasant news for fear of your temper. Shooting the messenger bearing bad news may relieve some stress, but it rarely gets you accurate information.”

The Mercenary Sergeant smiled coldly at the War Master. “OH, you COULD order our deaths…. even achieve them. But it would cost you in ways you do not wish to pay.” He gestured at the rear of the room, where a couple free-lance mercs waited for an audience. “For one, you would find it difficult to continue attracting soldiers for hire, even such as those bandits. The risks would be too high, for what you can afford to pay.”

Turning back to face the War Master, he continued in a calm voice. “And secondly, if you think that our commander will just accept such treatment of us, you are sadly delusional. Were you to make the mistake of ordering us executed because of your own failings…. let’s just say, you wouldn’t care for the results once the rest of the unit arrives.” The man chuckled. “Major Al-Sabayah is a pretty nice guy, most of the time. But he’s also old school Azami. You’d be LUCKY to escape as a blind, one-handed eunuch under those circumstances.”

War Master Gould flushed bright red as his rage soared. “Get out of my sight!” The old man roared. “Insolent dogs! Return to your kennels! I shall send for you when your commander arrives. If I see your faces before then, it will go badly for you, and nothing will prevent it!”

With a shrug, the mercenary sergeant just nodded to his men and withdrew without another word.

<Scene shift: Silver Saber Observer quarters, New Saar Capitol>

“What the hell are we doing here, Mike?” Greg Ferrara spoke softly. “Gould is a mental case! I don’t care how much this contract is worth, you’ve got to be alive to spend it!”

Mike Blanchard, the Senior Sergeant that had so recently had a confrontation with the War Master, sighed and ran his hand through his hair. “I know, Greg, I know…. But a contract is a contract. You know the deal…. Only one who can make those calls is the Major…. Look, if they are on schedule, we just need to hang out for another two weeks and they’ll be here. We’ll turn in our reports and let the boss handle it, okay?’

Greg and the two others nodded. “Okay, but I tell you right now, this job sucks, big time. Idiot locals already got the Lieutenant killed by not listening to good advice.”

Jim Logan, one of the other observers, chimed in. “Hell, the locals we’ve been dealing with seem determined to do everything the exact opposite of what we’ve been telling them, just to “Prove” how superior they are.” He laughed softly. “Then, when they get their ass kicked up around their ears, they blame US!” He laughed again. “I never thought I’d say this, but I almost wish I was with the Black Stars on this job.”

Everyone in the room laughed as he kept going. “Yeah, yeah, I know... The BLACK STARS… the Merc community’s bastard stepchildren…. a joke, right? But who’s winning?” Everyone sobered up at that. “I know the locals aren’t exactly high calibre opponents, but the ‘Stars are saddled with them too. Only difference is, THEIR locals seem to be listening to them… or at least not getting as much in the way as ours are.”

The three other men all started nodding unconsciously as Jim talked. “Look, I know their rep is as losers and last chancers, but… I’m thinking that we need to take them seriously. So far, if they’ve screwed up in a major way, I certainly haven’t heard about it…. Every time they show up, Gould’s boys get slapped down hard. And they aren’t shy of taking risks… anyone here that thought they could pull off that deep strike raid on Blutgarten? No? How about the fact that they simultaneously shattered two ground assaults in person, and units trained by them, turned back another?” Jim shrugged. “Losers and Last Chancers they might be, but I’m thinking that if we don’t take them seriously, we’ll be in the same position that Gould is finding himself. Bleeding from wounds he never saw coming.”

<scene break: Privy Council Chamber, Dominance Tor>

“The mercenaries do not know their place, War Master.” O’ Connor leaned across the table. “They argue with their betters and fail to show proper respect to you and your officers!”

When War Master Gould nodded, O’Conner took that as a signal to continue. “Worse still, their attitude is starting to spread to the others you have so generously taken on! Why, just yesterday, one of the independent mercenaries dared to refuse an order to advance! The coward claimed his contract didn’t require him to commit suicide! If the bastard had just pressed hard, the enemy would have broken! It was just infantry and a couple tanks…. No other ‘Mechs in sight, and none of those damned Black Stars that Posavski hired! Coward kept whining about odds and minefields. It wasn’t as if he had to go alone, we’d assigned a full company of infantry to support him.”

War Master Gould looked over at O’Connor. “I hope you addressed the issue?”

Roger smiled. “I had the man arrested and his Stinger confiscated. He’s downstairs in the dungeon as we speak, awaiting your judgment.”

Gould smiled. “Good… Have him impaled for insubordination and cowardice in the face of the enemy. We must set an example for the others. Disobedience will not be tolerated.”

Roger nodded. “Yes, War Master, it shall be done…. and the insolent sergeant from this afternoon?” Roger kept going, his voice hopeful.

“Not yet.” War Master Gould whispered. “No, not yet…. I believe they require just a little more rope….. We shall see if their commander’s attitude is any better before we take them to task…. At very least, we want them to bring their equipment out where we can get to it if we have to…. discipline the current owners.”


Gable Point   
New Kargill Township
New Saars/UDF Conflict Zone
Novo Franklin
1 Oct 3079, 0600 Hours Local Time

“The site checks have been completed, sir.”

“Good. Get the Partisan set up first. That will give those thrice-be-damned whirlybirds something to think about,” the Lieutenant stated with a grimace. He was anything but happy.

The mercenary advisors had leaned on Lieutenant Fletcher’s boss and made him do the entire transportation leg of this advance at night. He hadn’t had a decent sleep in a week, nor a decent woman for that matter. He was grumpy in the extreme, and his subordinates would have called that an understatement.

Fletcher watched the head grunt scurry away to relay his order. After the attack on the rear supply depot everyone was paranoid about anything in the air larger than a sparrow. It had gotten ridiculous, to the point where there had been a couple of eagles shot out of the sky. It was, he supposed, one of the downsides of keeping the serf population quite as dumb as they were.

Of course, while the paranoia among the serfs was probably exaggerated, amongst the noble officers it was more than well founded. Of the officers that had been present during the depot raid, a good three quarters of them still weren’t sitting comfortably. That is, the one’s that had survived the War Master’s wrath were not sitting comfortably. Close to half of the branded men were now displaying those brands to the world, swinging on a pike as they were.

The Lieutenant shuddered as he recalled the scene and how close he had come to being part of it. He had arrived to the depot that morning, a recent transfer, and was one of the first through the door when they had finally worked up the nerve to enter the bar that also served as the senior officer’s quarters. It wasn’t pretty. Every man in the place was tied up, most were stripped naked and close to three quarters of them had an ugly scar on their behind’s, a branded star. The smell of burned flesh had caused a number of the men inside to retch, and more than one of the newcomers ran outside to do the same.

The shocks continued as a closer observation revealed nasty bruises on the most senior officers.

“They really went to town on you guys didn’t they,” Fletcher had commented to the base commander, who happened to be naked and face down on a gurney getting his “wounds” attended to. His face and sides were a mass of ugly welts and bruises.

“The Black Stars? Christ son, they didn’t do this,” the Captain had replied in a dejected tone, “Those damned whores kicked the living crap out of us before they ran off. They weren’t tied up, noooo, they were left free to get away once they woke up. Vindictive bitches, never should have bought them those damned stilettos!”

That was the last time Fletcher had talked to the man, though it wasn’t the last time he’d seen the unfortunate Captain. The War Master had not gone easy, word had spread with the pictures that the Captain had been kept alive and conscious for three days…

“Lieutenant Fletcher, are you alright sir?” asked a passing artilleryman.

The officer nodded in return, but he still looked pale after the pictures had flashed through his mind. He was starting to wonder if it was all worth it.

“Cheer up Lieutenant. We have good news sir, we’ll have everything set up in just over three hours, then we’ll show ‘em what for!”

“Thank you, carry on.”

Fletcher hated the thought that kept bouncing around inside his brain that something was wrong. The Black Stars had usually outflanked, out thought and out gunned the New Saars forces in every engagement, yet the War Master and his attendant, backstabbing idiot Rogers both thought they had come up with a tactical coup by taking this ridge, giving them the advantage in height and range over the newly formed United Defence Force.

Oblivious to the furious activity around him, Fletcher walked over to the edge of the cliff for a better look at the surrounding area. The sun was just starting to throw a glow over the horizon, so it didn’t yet hide the flashes of enemy artillery fire that randomly peppered the New Saars emplacements. He looked down and noticed something slightly out of place, a piece of rock with some wear marks on it, and a groove worn into another on the edge of the cliff. He frown then edged close, looking downward. The sun chose that moment to peek its nose over distant hills and hit Fletcher in the eyes, as it reflected of something metal further down the slope.

Idiots! he thought to himself. That was as far as it got. The reflected glint got much brighter, and Fletcher’s last thought was heading towards being a happy one that he wouldn’t have to face the same fate as the supply depot Captain.

[Scene Break]

KAAAABBBBOOOMMMMMMMM!!!!!!!

“WOOOOOOOOHHHHHHHHHOOOOOOOOO!!!!”

“Thar she blows boys and girls!”

Markus allowed a small, satisfied smile to creep across his face as the other Jack o’ Lanterns danced a jig around him. He had to admit, it was at times like this that job satisfaction was at its peak. Or, pardon the pun, the lack of a peak.

“Are you sure you aren’t an engineer Markus?” Henry ribbed him again.

“Pff, do I look like a geek?” It was Markus that had spotted the fracture planes that permeated the cliff face, and the reason that Gable point was now just a pile of rubble, with half a dozen artillery pieces mixed in.

“You don’t really want us to answer that do you?” Michelle carried on.

“Don’t you start, I saw you geeking out over those new detonator transmitters I bought.”

“That was merely a professional interest.”

“Now, now children. Don’t we anything better to do?” Vincent didn’t have much of a sense of humour.

Markus rolled his eyes, “Yeah, we have to recon and confirm destruction of target tonight. Get some sleep kids, we might need it.”


New Kargill Township
New Saars/UDF Conflict Zone
Novo Franklin
1 Oct 3079, 0630 Hours Local Time

David looked out across the mist shrouded valley. Were it not for the irregular crashing of the artillery pieces behind him, he could almost forget why they were there and imagine the place as it must be in peacetime. As things were… the morning mists covered the damage that recent warfare had done to the land. All too soon, the rising sun would burn away the fog and reveal the remnants of shattered fruit trees and burned grape arbors. Years of careful work had been swept away in just a few short months of conflict.

He shook his head sadly as he turned away… even if they somehow won the war tomorrow, it would be years yet before this land once again produced the bounty it had been known for. The wines and brandies that had been this area’s main export would not flow freely again for at least half a decade, and even then it would take twice that for the trees and vines to mature enough for the quality to return anywhere near to where it had been.

Shaking off the melancholy mood as he walked, David strode quickly through the morning light to the local command post and entered quietly just as another round was fired from one of the artillery pieces.

“There you are!” The local commander exclaimed. “I sent my aide out looking for you twenty minutes ago!”

David shrugged. “Didn’t see him. He must have gotten lost.”

The man shook his head impatiently. “Never mind that! It’s not important now. I’ve been told you countermanded my order to increase the shelling, and I want to know why.”

David smiled. “Ah, that’s simple…. Look, what’s the point of the shelling?”

The man appeared confused for a moment. “Why, to damage the enemy and destroy his ability to make war.”

David nodded. “True… on a strategic level. But, what’s the point here, on the tactical level?”

Impatiently, the local officer snapped at David. “The same! We shell them, kill their troops, and destroy their equipment until they give up or can’t stop us from taking the township away from them!”

David laughed softly. “Again, strategically correct, but overlooking the tactical…. it’s simple really. Direct fire from those guns is insufficient to achieve our goals. The enemy is too well dug in, and the number of guns and amount of ammo too small to overcome that. We couldn’t do it with three times the guns and four times the ammunition.”

One of the junior officers looked puzzled before speaking up. “Then why shell them at all? Wouldn’t that be a waste of resources, if we can’t get what we want out of it?”

David grinned. “Indeed! That it would… if we couldn’t achieve our goals. What I said was that we couldn’t do it DIRECTLY. That doesn’t mean we still can’t get what we want out of them.”

Turning to face the whole room, his tone took on that of an instructor explaining things to a classroom of students. “Direct fire will achieve only nominal effect, that is correct. HOWEVER, there are also the indirect effects that we must consider… Enemy morale being one of them. There is nothing quite so eroding to morale as fire you cannot effectively respond to. We hold the high ground, our guns outrange anything they can bring to bear. So they must sit and take it. We aren’t doing all that much damage in real terms, that is true… but they don’t know where and when the next shell will fall. By maintaining the fire at a slow and irregular pace, we keep them guessing, unsure as to when the next blast will come. It will keep them jumpy and wear away at their readiness. Sleep will be difficult to come by, and tempers will fray. Sooner or later, they will HAVE to come out and try to do something, or watch as their forces crumble from frustration and poor morale.”

The young aide that had spoken before, did so again, sounding triumphant as if he’d found something his elders had not. “But we don’t hold the high ground! They do! Gable Point is on their side of the lines, that is the highest hill around here.”

David nodded, before speaking again. “Correct! Gable Point IS the highest point around…. can anyone tell me why we are not in the situation I just outlined? No?” He smiled like a hungry wolf. “Well, up until now, the reason is pretty simple. The enemy didn’t have any decent artillery in this area. They had to wait for it to be brought up from the rear and put in place….. Something that they have just accomplished.”

David could not have achieved a greater reaction if he’d declared that the world was ending.

“WHAT!?” The local commander screamed. “Why were we not told?! What are you playing at!? We have to move and dig in… if you’d warned us, we could have been prepared!”

David made a quelling motion with his hands, but it took several minutes for order to be restored.

“The reason you were not informed was two-fold. The first being that we have already taken the appropriate steps to ensure that the guns are dealt with…. and the second being that we didn’t want the enemy to get advance word.” He shrugged. “Your operational security has improved greatly, and I don’t have any proof of active leaks in your local command, but that doesn’t mean there aren’t any. Simply put, you didn’t have the need to know, so you weren’t told.”

Clearly fuming, the local commander snarled at David. “So what are these “Steps” that have been taken without my knowledge?”

David pointed at the map. “The enemy is just arriving at Gable point this morning. They are already at the site and we expect them to be ready to engage by zero nine thirty… Our intel places their numbers at five towed artillery pieces and an old Partisan air-defence unit, so having the VTOLs nip in and take out the site, while having a chance at success would be a marginal play at best, and too expensive long term unless there was no other option. Accordingly, since we anticipated this response by the New Saars forces, the Jack O Lanterns infiltrated the site before our shelling even started and…. prepared the site.” His smile held nothing of warmth. A shark seeing the grin would recognize a fellow predator in the expression. “The New Saars forces searched the site of course, but they forgot to check the cliff face. The charges placed will ensure that Gable Point is no longer the highest location in the area. I have been assured by my people that the entire prominence will come down in one go, taking everything on the peak with it of course.”

“Would you care to do the honours?” David asked as he held out a small transmitter to the Commander.

Drop Port,
“Dominance Tor”, Gould Clan Fortress
New Saar Capitol, Novo Franklin
1st October 3079, 0830 Hours Local Time

Luca squinted his eyes instinctively as the massive cargo bay door of the Mule Class DropShip groaned opened. Outside in the morning sunlight, the freelance mercenary MechWarrior could spot the usual buzz of activities as flatbeds and all manners of vehicles swarmed around the DropShip. While the DropShip was descending upon their destination, Luca had looked out and down towards the landscape. After the urban landscape of Terra, Novo Franklin promised to provide nothing but absolute boredom with its sea of green and brown, with only very small dots of gray that demarcated cities and towns. Still a world with little in the form of technology suited the former Tiger Sharks soldier just fine.

Luca strode his 'Mech out from the massive hold of the eleven thousand ton civilian cargo carrier out onto Novo Franklin. Luca grinned as civilians stopped whatever chores and work they were doing and gawked at his war machine. The mercenary had took efforts to give his 'Mech a fresh coat of paint before lifting off from Terra. However, the understanding completely backfired as his lack of research into the primary terrain and area of operations he would work in made the reddish brown camouflage pattern he did on his 'Mech stood out like a sore thumb. Still, the fact that his ride was a twenty ton Locust of the LCT-1V2 variant did nothing to dampen his ego as he stomped across the tarmac towards the gapping maw of a 'Mech bay in the Gould Clan Fortress. Behind Luca, Gustav followed behind, his WSP-1K Wasp slightly less garish in its jungle green patterns. While both 'Mechs were weigh in at twenty tons, Gustav's machine was slower by nearly twenty five percent, while both sharing similar armour protection. On the other hand, its Rawlings 52 jump jets gave Gustav's Wasp a one hundred and eighty meter jump capability that would present it with a superior ability to traverse broken or urban terrain with ease.

It was in weaponry layout that both 'Mechs greatly differed. An ancient variant of an even more ancient design, Gustav's WSP-1K was lightly armed with a single Diverse Optics Type 2 medium laser, and a single Sperry Browning Machine Gun. Luca's Locust, despite having the honour of being most mass produced 'Mech in existence was actually a relatively new refit of the venerable design. Switching out the original pair of Sperry Browning Machine Guns and ammunition - one of which was currently mounted on Gustav's Wasp, four Death Blossom 10 pack Rocket Launchers were installed instead. These gave Luca the ability to unleash a devastating amount of missile fire, but would leave it with nothing else but its single medium laser with which to fight after its one shot missiles were spent.

Luca scanned the other machines within the 'Mech bay as they came into view. He spotted another one of the derogatory tagged 'bug' 'Mechs, a twenty ton Stinger standing silently beside a slightly heavier Javelin. Luca frowned slightly as he noticed that both were painted in urban gray colours. Would he be asked to fight in some city settings? He had learned from past experience that his Locust's best asset - speed, would be totally negated in such an environment. Further down the pair of light BattleMechs was the squat shape of Blackjack medium 'Mech. Luca would have spat if not for the fact that he was wearing his neuro helmet. While Luca had never piloted one of these forty five ton machines before, they had been rumoured to have a flawed and unstable basic design ever since their introduction during the Star League era. Luca's eyes went immediately to the ’Mech’s narrow footpads. There had been stories that these had often led to falls and reduced its mobility. Furthermore, there had been stories that the StarGuard II armour was brittle and tended to fall off. This was definitely not a 'Mech he'd risk placing his ass in.

Luca moved his 'Mech into an empty bay lot under the direction of one of the ground crew and Gustav settled his own BattleMech next to him. Following behind them, other freelance mercenary 'Mechs also slotted into empty lots and started to power down. All were light and medium machines. However, Luca and Gustav had over heard that this group was not the only ‘Mechjocks contracted by New Saars Militia and War Master Gould. More would be coming along soon. Out of his cockpit and at the foot of his 'Mech, Luca could finally afford to spit. Against the Black Stars, what they have would be more than enough.

No sooner had the thought sprang to his mind, the poorly lit 'Mech bay was suddenly shrouded in darkness as a massive shape blocked off the early morning rays of sunlight into the building. Luca looked up. It was a familiar shape of an unfamiliar looking seventy ton Archer.

------

Roger O' Connor stared at the mixed group of 'Mechs plodding within the Fortress 'Mech and snarled. THIS is the kind of reinforcements we're getting?! Several other free booters had arrived earlier. Like most of the losers that just disembarked from that Mule Class DropShip sitting on the tarmac outside, they were light 'Mechs of poor quality. The trio of 'bug' 'Mechs that had always been associated with pirates and free lancing ‘Mechjocks consisting of the Locust, Stinger and Wasp had dominated the ranks of these hired guns. The largest machine among these mercenaries that have arrived to bolster the New Saars Militia ranks was a forty ton Clint. Rumours and grapevine said that the pilot was a one time pirate serving in Ryan’s Rebels. The former Carantania General had shrugged off that news. Even if the rumours were true, O' Connor failed to see the difference between a pirate serving under Redjack Ryan and the pilot's status now.

The new arrivals failed to better that. Another Locust and Wasp had led the rag tag procession. O' Connor's eyes lighted up as the last 'Mech stepped off from within the darkness of the DropShip's hold down its ramp. It was a slim but deadly looking machine. The right hand man of War Master Gould took a few moments to finally place a name on the design - it was a thirty five ton Venom light 'Mech. For a while, O' Connor scratched his brains of why such an advanced design known to spot Ferro-Fibrous armour, medium pulse lasers, and more importantly, an extra light fusion engine would be doing here. Than the possibility hit him. Not a well sort after 'Mech initially, the first Venom came off the production line in early 3050 and saw deployment mostly to areas near the Periphery, where it protected the border against bandits and held position for potential punitive strikes. Given the design's initial posting to commands near the Periphery border, there had been more than one report of SDR-9Ks inevitably falling into the hands of pirates. Pirates. In O' Connor's mind, no other self respecting MechWarrior would willingly travel all the way to Novo Franklin to seek employment. He would know - he was one of the very few native Novo Franklin citizen who had travelled to the Inner Sphere. If not for the fact that he was of noble standing, and nobles enjoy more than just a little privileges in this Deep Periphery world, he would not have returned.

O' Connor did a quick count. Other than his own Archer and Nawfar's Firestarter, the War Master now has Kolbe in the Blackjack, in addition to the Javelin and Stinger in her short lance. Added to these now were a pair of Locust light 'Mechs of obvious different variants, three twenty ton Stinger 'Mechs in varying states of disrepair, two Wasps, and that Venom. If what the War Master said was true, there would be another lance worth - four more contracted 'Mechjocks arriving on Novo Franklin within a week. O' Connor had not asked his Lord what machines these were. He was certain that his seventy ton of walking death and destruction would remain the largest and meanest machine on the entire world. Even those blasted Black Stars had not been able to take that honour away from him.

Despite his poor view of the mercenary ‘Mechjocks that just arrived, he was still filled with excitement watching their 'Mechs marching down from the DropShip. That could be attributed to the point that with the arrival of these fresh reinforcement, the end of the Franklin Trustee funded UDF and their cursed Black Stars lap dogs would be closer to fruition. Of course, another reason for the feeling of joy was due to the fact that most of these machines would fall eventually into the control of New Saars Militia. Even though his own ride had provided great entertainment, O' Connor wasn't all that indifferent to changing to an even better machine if it came along. Which meant that the final group of reinforcements arriving would be of no use to him at all.

Named the Silver Sabres, it was of battalion strength. O' Connor had gleaned some information on these mercenaries. Two companies worth of infantry bulked out the unit. In O' Connor's eyes, it was the vehicular force that would provide the main punch. An entire company of hover tanks mostly of light weight classification. O' Connor had read of the familiar Saracen, Scimitar and Harasser hover tanks populating the ranks of the company. However, there were other designs there that were not so. O' Connor shrugged again. It was of no matter. What could a company of light vehicles on cushions of air do against the soon to be reinforced 'Mech company of New Saars Militia? O' Connor smiled. And inevitably under MY command.

Alfax County
15km from UDF/ New Saar borders
New Saar Territory, Novo Franklin
9th October 3079 0030 hours local time

George Fynn accepted the glass and swallowed the contents with a single gulp. It was not the Arabian sweet wine that he had gotten used to since joining the Silver Sabres, but it was something that kept him warm in the cool Novo Franklin nights. The woman - actually, more of a girl, next lighted a thick cigar and handed it reverently to the mercenary Lieutenant. Fynn took it without looking at the girl before transferring it to his mouth. Unlike the brandy, the cigar was of excellent quality.

"Will you be coming back soon?" The girl asked with a trembling in her voice.

Fynn looked at her and grinned. He had not asked of her age, but she could not have been more than sixteen. Nowhere near to what one would call a ravishing beauty, she was at least much better looking than many of the women than had been paraded before Fynn in the whorehouse. Lita. A simple name for a simple girl. The former Black Angus Boys infantry commander had seeked out the local night spots upon landing on the planet as was his usual practice. He had seen and experienced much worst of course. Nothing could ever compare to the pleasure circus of the Majesty of Canopus. THAT, was one heck of an experience that Fynn would never forget. Still, a person and mercenary that travelled as much as Fynn did learn to make do with what was available.

He reached out a hand, and the girl obediently walked to him. Fynn grabbed her roughly by the wrist and pulled her onto the bed. She gave a girlish squeak and giggled as she fell onto the none too clean bed. Fynn looked down on her as she laid her head on his bared chest and she started to stroke his exposed thighs. "Yeah, I'll be back sooner than you can imagine, so don't you start having ideas about running off to some farm hand with bulging muscles and an empty head."

The girl looked up at him. Her sparkling blue eyes told of her nativity - something that had drawn Fynn to her in the first place. Like most of the woman folk Fynn had seen on Novo Franklin, her body was reed thin from toiling in the fields or factories. Even though the girl had obviously not seen the insides of a factory or needed to sweat under Novo Franklin's sun for at least a couple of years, life as a prostitute had not been kinder to her. Fynn ran his eyes over her naked skin and rested on several scars and wounds on her legs and arms. They were no doubt inflicted by some local man who was no where as gentle as Fynn himself. Still, despite her lean body, there were still traces of baby fats on her otherwise sharp face. Fynn was certain that given time and lots of care, she would blossom into a head turning beauty in a couple of years with age and maturity.

"We'll be setting off for a major operation against the UDF in three days' time." The Silver Sabres officer looked at the clock on one of the stained walls. "Actually, make that two days' time."

The girl grabbed one of Fynn's arms tightly. Her tawny dark blonde hair, cut to shoulder length swept across his well toned stomach. "But I heard the UDF employed some ferocious mercenaries that had beaten back the War Master's forces... repeatedly!" She whispered the last word while her eyes darted around the room, stopping at the doors as if in fear that some New Saar soldiers would burst through the doors to drag her away for daring to speak ill of the War Master and his Militia.

Fynn laughed. "The Black Stars?! They're nothing but shit to us." He took another puff of his cigar in his right hand as his left proceeded to trace a line from the girl's forehead down to her neck. He stroked her chin for a while before moving his fingers further down, fondling her smallish breasts. The girl closed her eyes in ecstasy as soft moans escaped from her slightly parted lips.

"We'll hit them where they think they're best entrenched - at Firebase Nova." Fynn looked at the ceiling and smiled. He did not care if the girl was no longer listening to him. He was already thinking of the easy victory that would be coming the New Saar Militia's way. "Those 'Mechs hired by the War Master would easily take the high ground in Clementi Forests while we hook around to net any escaping enemies. Once we have Jurong Hill, we're swing behind the enemy positions while the War Master's forces hit them from the front." He smirked. "The UDF and their mercenary dogs would be crushed in a single blow." He had heard of reports of the Black Stars having in their possession Battle Armour suits, advanced tech 'Mechs and combat vehicles. He was sure he would be able to capture something for himself. Heck, if things go well, he might even settle himself here on Novo Franklin. He had heard that nobles led a VERY prestigious life on the back water Periphery world. With the elevated standing he would no doubt earn after squashing the enemy forces, he was sure the War Master would award him a noble's title and the land deeds that came hand in hand with such positions. He looked down at the girl. He might even make her his woman - permanently.

His soft touches suddenly tightened into a painful grip. The girl's eyes snapped open in shock. Fynn leered back at her as he absently laid the cigar onto the bedside table. The mercenary easily lifted the naked girl before pushing her deep into the soft mattress. The shock in her face dissolved into an expectant smile and her own hands reached out to caress his arms and chest. He returned the gestures in kind, running his hands over her lithe body. Lita moaned as she writhed in the bed. "In that case, I would be more than willing to be part of the prize for your victory." She whispered hoarsely.

"Indeed you would be." Fynn laughed. "And I'll be collecting an advance before I head out to the front lines in two days' time."

------

The dark alleys of Alfax County were not where one would willingly thread in the dead of the night. Even the War Master's soldiers had learned to keep to their barracks, or in patrols. Some of the most ferocious thugs and gangs from all over Novo Franklin roamed the streets of the County. One has only to walk into the wrong street, or bump into the wrong shadow to lose their lives.

The dark figure ghosted through the shadows unhindered. Several small groups of man nodded to it in respect to it. The shadow moved through the streets unerringly, never once stopping or turning to look around. Stopping before a small stone building, a thin hand lifted from beneath the cloak and knocked on the door. Once. Twice, than two more times in rapid succession.

A rusty sounding screech sounded across the streets as someone unhitched the door. Dim, orange light escaped from within as the door opened just enough to admit the reed thin shadowy ghost. It did not hesitate and slid through the small opening.

It was nearly as dark in the building as it was outside. The shadow stopped in the middle of the room as the person who opened the door proceeded to lock it again. He was the exact opposite of the shadow. If one did not know, one would have thought him one of the Clan bred elemental soldiers.

"What news." He asked expectantly as he turned around.

A pair of hands emerged from the cloak and lifted to the hood. A shock of dark blonde hair fell from within the cloak as the figure turned towards the large man. The eyes of the girl known as Lita seemed to burn with a fiery light within the dimly lit room. "We need to send out a warning. Our enemies are on the move."


2 km to Clementi Forests
New Saars/UDF Conflict Zone
Novo Franklin
11th Oct 3079, 0530 Hours Local Time

The scrawny legs of the twenty ton Locust pumped hard and dug into the soft ground as it sprinted forward, its O/P 911 sensors working overtime scanning the horizon as the massive New Saars group approached the location where an entire Battle Group were decimated just a month ago - reportedly by a single enemy vehicle and 'Mech. Dumb asses. Luca would have spat in disgust if not for the neuro helmet covering his head. His Locust was of the LCT-1V2 variant. The former Tiger Sharks MechWarrior did not know where the previous owner had gotten the ride, and Luca did not have the chance nor time to ask him. One usually could not gather much information from a guy with a slit throat who was dumped in some dark and god forsaken back alley. Still, it was better than the Stinger he was previously assigned in the Sharks. THAT ride had malfunctioning jump jets, jury rigged pair of machine guns that tended to jam, and a VERY iffy right elbow joint. That meant that it was basically deprived of all its weapons most of the time, while the comparatively slow speed and lack of jump jets meant Luca had to usually hide behind other 'Mechs - if he was not cooking up some sort of excuse not to participate in any fighting.

The LCT-1V2 had fifty percent more speed than the Stinger, even though it lacked the jump capabilities that a fully functional STG. Both twenty ton 'Mechs share the same armament in the form of a medium laser. However, Luca's ride was also equipped with a quartet of rocket launcher 10s. Even though these were one shot weapons, it did give him devastating medium range firepower that had already gotten him out of more than one sticky situation. He grinned as he thought of the Andurien Hermes II writhing on the ground as Luca and half a dozen of his former Tiger Sharks colleagues proceeded to loot the store it and its comrades were guarding after they had mobbed the defending pair FWL 'Mechs and a platoon of foot infantry. Ah... the good old days...

That was back than - more than half the known universe away and three years ago. Right now, Luca and a hodge podge mix of mercenaries were part of a New Saars push towards the Clementi Forests. Without the benefit of more dedicated scout 'Mech units like the Raven and Ostscout, the mercenary's Locust and other light 'Mechs had been assigned recon duties like there were designed for eons again. Luca had not paid much attention to the briefing carried out by War Master Gould and his General... a Roger O' Connor. He caught snatches of punching through the Clementi Forests to over run a high ground called Jurong Hill or something like that. Apparently, the enemy had set up some artillery pieces and observation posts on the Hill and was controlling and dominating the lands around the area. According to the General, it was why the New Saars Militia had not been able to make headway along the UDF/ New Saars battle lines.

Once the enemy was inevitably swept from the Hill and the forests, New Saars own artillery pieces would be set up on top and give them the ability to rain explosion and death on enemy positions for miles around. Furthermore, capturing the Clementi Forests would also apparently allow New Saars Militia and its mercenary army to hook behind UDF's entrenched positions around what had been tagged Firebase “Nova” at some Barony of Redstar... or was it Redstone? This had been the strong hold that had anchored the United Defence Force's lines between the conflict zones. Luca grinned. According to what he had found out, the New Saars Militia had not been able to breach the defenses, and had not tried so after a couple of costly attempts - until the arrival of the mercenary BattleMech forces that included himself and Gustav.

As far as Luca could tell, the New Saars army was much, MUCH stronger than what the UDF would ever put together even if they concentrated all their forces together. The New Saars Militia already consisted of an impressive wave of foot infantry on a bewildering assortment of transports in addition to the regular armoured personnel carriers. They were also supported by a large convoy of vehicles with all sorts of weapons mounted onboard. Added to all those were a reinforced lance of 'Mechs. Most were common and old designs of course. Luca had counted a Firestarter, a Javelin, another one of those Stinger light 'Mechs, as well as the Blackjack piloted by the very delicious looking Jessica Kolbe. Luca smirked and licked his lips as he thought of the Warlord. He pictured his hands running through her luscious long black hair, caressing the curves of her well shaped body... Luca shook his head and grinned a silly smile. Who knows? He might still get his chances with her. And then, there was that blasted Archer piloted by General Roger O' Connor. Even with his years of experience dealing and working with some of the most disreputable people in the known human universe, O' Connor still gave Luca the creeps. If he could just get behind that hand and unleash his entire arsenal on the back of his seventy ton 'Mech...

To the New Saars Militia's course, a full company of BattleMechs had since arrived on Novo Franklin from all over. Drawn from ‘Mechjocks from different background and units, their lack of cohesiveness would be of little issue against foes of much lesser numbers and quality. Furthermore, the Silver Sabres would be spearheading the attack. If the enemy had any tricks up their rotten sleeves, the reed thin Major Hassan Al-Sabayah and his hover tanks, as well as his company of wide eyed, frothing lunatics of infantry would be the first to run into them.

By capturing the Clementi Forests, eliminating the enemy's artillery assets on top of Jurong Hill, the New Saars Militia and its allies would be able to swing around the rear of the main UDF forces at Firebase Nova. The enemies would be trapped in a net via a classic two pronged attack - with the flanking forces as one prong, and another force led by the New Saars own small 'Mech force and the usual accompanying infantry as the other.

The War Master had declared that with the main bulk of their fighting forces trapped and destroyed, together with those thrice cursed Black Stars mercenaries, the Franklin Trustee Council would be insane not to immediately surrender. Luca had already taken the efforts to experience the local flavours. While lacking finesse and... professionalism, he was sure he could get himself some property and stuff it with enough woman to last him until the end of time.

Luca looked out from the cockpit of his 'Mech at the small hill in the distance. Soon. He promised himself. Things were turning out much better than he could have ever hoped so, if he may say so himself. Mama sure ain't give birth ta no fool.


2 km to Clementi Forests
New Saars/UDF Conflict Zone
Novo Franklin
11th Oct 3079, 0535 Hours Local Time

Captain Medhi Zahir cocked his head slightly as the earning morning Novo Franklin wind blew into his face. Like his Azami ancestors, Medhi loved the feel of wind against his skin. His forefathers had ridden against their enemies on their sleek and powerful war horses. Medhi likewise thunder into battle on his own steed. Rather than a graceful and beatific Arabian horse, the Silver Sabre XO instead goes to war in command of a Plainsman medium hover tank. He had always found the name fitting - for was he not a soldier riding across open plains? At the head of his Gold Swords lance, the other Plainsman hover tank was but a scarce fifteen meters to his rear and left. A pair of LRM launcher armed Harasser light hover tanks were further behind, easily keeping pace.

Most of the Sabres's infantry soldiers would be riding in the Blizzard hover transports of another of the Sabres' vehicular lances - the Silver Lances. To the Gold Swords' far right, in loose but mutually supporting formation, were the paired Saracen and Scimitar medium hover tanks of the Bronze Scythes lance. Riding ahead of the entire Silver Sabres hover company, Medhi looked back at the steel steeds of the Azami formation with pride.

The air this morning however, was not one his people would be familiar with. Hailing from desert worlds, Novo Franklin was a system covered with forests and trees. There were of course stretches of deserts to the north of where he was, but little, if any battle had been conducted across the wide open lands. Instead, tactical reasons had dictated that much of the fighting had raged across the forests, hills and towns.

The Silver Sabres and its array of hover tanks had been tasked to scout ahead of the New Saars main forces. On paper, it made total strategic and tactical sense. The hover tanks from the unit whose original members had came from the world of Tukayyid possessed of the fastest speed within the entire New Saars forces. They would be best suited to probe for enemy positions and scout out the land before them.

However, Medhi knew that there were other much more sinister reasons for their deployment in their forward role. War Master Gould and his goons had hoped for the Silver Sabres to trigger any of the anticipated booby traps and ambushes that the United Defence Force, or rather, their Black Stars allies had been laying. BattleMechs, being thought of as the undisputed masters of the battlefield, were too precious to waste. Furthermore, Major Al-Sabayah had not exactly been well received by the War Master, nor the MechWarriors he had hired. The further away the Silver Sabres were from the main New Saars forces, the better it suited their employer. It was one of the very few things that Medhi had agreed with the locals.

Today, bolstered with the full strength of the Silver Sabres as well as his hired ‘Mechjocks, the War Master had finally decided to unleash the full force of his military against the enemy. The was surprisingly simple and logical. While the New Saars Militia had previously possessed of the numbers to carry it out, Medhi knew that with the quality of troops they had, they would have been annihilated in short order.

A large force, anchored by the mercenary BattleMechs would advance towards the Clementi Forests in the south of the continent. Behind them would be the last remaining artillery pieces the War Master could put together. Further supported by the Silver Sabres as well as a force of local infantry and vehicles, they would attempt to take the much fought for Jurong Hill. Victory would allow them to position their artillery assets on the high ground that overlooked the UDF's main positions at Firebase Nova. Hopefully, enough of the UDF and the Black Stars would be drawn to the area to further dilute their strength at the Firebase to the north west of Jurong Hill. As much of the Franklin Trustee backed forces would be destroyed by the New Saars forces before they flanked the Firebase.

Another force would be moving straight towards the entrenched UDF positions, spearheaded by the War Master's own smaller 'Mech forces, but with a much larger infantry and ground vehicular contingent. The two claws of the New Saars attack should trap their enemies, allowing them to bring their superior numbers as well as heavier equipment to bear on their hapless foes, crushing them once and for all.

The Silver Sabres Captain shook his head. THAT, was how the operation was supposed to unfold. The Major had to argue long and hard to convince the War Master that their hover tanks would be ill suited for the attack into Clementi Forests. Did the old dictator not know that hovers would not be able to make use of their speed and manoeuvrability within the close quarters of the wooded area? Medhi scowled. Maybe Gould did indeed know of it, and was simply trying to force the Silver Sabres to their death. After all, the Azami mercenary unit was but a back up in case the New Saars Militia could not get enough ‘Mechjocks to sign up under their banner. The disgusting amount of cash the War Master had waved at all manners of free lancers had insured such would not be the case.

Medhi threw the thoughts out of his head. He had better things to worry about. At least the Major had convinced the War Master and his advisers that the Sabres would best serve as a recon and screening force for their advance. Instead of joining the attack into the forests, they would hook behind the thickly vegetated terrain and catch whatever enemies that try to escape.

As for the feared enemy VTOL forces, the War Master had dismissed it out of hand. He had claimed that they would be of no worry. Four huge crates that were unloaded from the very same DropShip that had brought most of the mercenary MechWarriors would be the bane of the so called Trouble Inc. Medhi could only hope the man was right about things. Total domination of the skies above would give the enemy forces an edge equivalent to an entire company of 'Mechs.

Medhi smelt the air again. It was not a sensation he was familiar with, but fighting on many worlds as he had done told him of one thing - it was going to rain, and rain heavily. It matters not. The Silver Sabres will fight their fight like they always did. If things went according to plans, they would collect their payment and leave the Allah cursed world. The Azami warrior had seen what the War Master and his lapdogs did to civilians, enemies and in several cases even allies alike. Dishonourable dogs! He spat. Medhi wanted nothing more than to be as far away from Gould and his people as possible - even if it meant that the Silver Sabres would need to undertake a mission straight into the heart of the Clan home worlds.


5 Kilometers West of Jurong Hill
New Saars/UDF Conflict Zone
Novo Franklin
11th Oct 3079, 0630 Hours Local Time

David yawned and took another gulp of his coffee. It had long since lost any claim to warmth, but after the last thirty-six hours of frenzied activity, he couldn’t care less about the taste, just the caffeine. “Ah, well.” he thought. “Such is war. Time is the one commodity no-one has in abundance.”

The word arriving through the intelligence network of the impending attack had arrived late, though it was fortunate that they’d received it at all.

“Any word from the scouts?” David asked the radioman.

“Just getting some now, sir. Just a moment…”

David stretched and glanced around the dugout command post. Hastily constructed for this operation, it lacked any of the normal comforts of a longer term outpost. He shrugged, once things got going, he’d be moving to the cockpit of the Hunchback.

Turning to face David, the radioman began to speak, relaying what he was getting from the scout co-ordinator. “Large force of ‘Mechs moving through Clementi Forest, crossing line of engagement at point epsilon gamma nine, supporting infantry advance…. Infantry approximately one regiment… soft transports… minor armour element… six units light armour leading the advance… reinforced company hover tanks moving along northern edge of Clementi forest… four kilometres from line of engagement…. Two lances combat units supporting infantry transports.”

David turned to the map-board, using his finger to trace approximate positions. “Ok, about here… and here…. right.”

He turned to look at the UDF liaison. “Commence plan beta.”

The man looked resentful as he replied. “I repeat my objections! The forest is a valuable resource. To just destroy it… I don’t expect you to understand, Mercenary, but I grew up here! This is MY family’s land.”

David spoke gently. “Believe me, I understand what you are being asked to sacrifice… and if there was another way…. but, the coming rains should limit the damage somewhat, and trees may regrow. Your sons and their children will be able to harvest again, in the future. If Gould wins… what future will they have?”

The man sighed sadly. “I understand… I don’t like it, but I understand. Very well.”

As the local man left to confer with the artillery commander, David turned once again to the radio operator. “Any word from the support battalion?” He asked about the engineering detachment who had been hastily constructing and emplacing defences along probable routes of advance. Not for the first time, he thanked the gods that the ‘Stars had received warning that the New Saars forces now had Hover support.

“Just got word… they have the items in place and are withdrawing to Firebase Nova as planned.”

“Good, Good…. they’ll slow the hovers down quite a bit if they work like they should.”

In the background David could hear the artillery commence firing.


Clementi Forest
New Saars/UDF Conflict Zone
Novo Franklin
11th Oct 3079, 0635 Hours Local Time

Luca cursed bitterly as he realized what was happening. He’d had only seconds of warning before the first artillery shells landed all around the advancing New Saars column.

The UDF forces must be using at least eight or nine guns to generate the amount of incoming fire he saw. “Small guns, and piss-poor for accuracy, they aren’t even close!” He thought to himself. “If that’s all they’ve got, we’re golden!”

The exultant feeling quickly faded into anger and resentment as he saw thick billows of smoke rapidly rise from the impact zones even as the next volley was incoming. “Crap! Incendiaries!” Luca snapped out over the radio. “Incendiaries incoming!”

Even as the ‘Mech pilots began to react and O’Connor began to formulate the orders he planned to give, the column of vehicles began to fracture.

Luca watched as the green drivers panicked and caused the already bumper to bumper traffic to become hopelessly tangled up. Several vehicles collided, locking bumpers and blocking the road. Others attempted to turn around, only to find themselves pinned in place by the following transports that filled in the available spaces, not yet aware of what was happening.

Now Luca could see what the UDF intended. In this terrain, under these conditions, the conventional forces were doomed. Forward lead nowhere but a fiery death for them, and even as he thought of it, the next volley of artillery began to set fires to the rear of the column.

“’Mechs will advance at best speed!” O’Connor’s voice barked out over the radio. “Abandon the column, we will press the attack without them!”

“Ah Sir?” One of the new pilots responded, Luca thought it might be Hernandez, the mincing little bastard in the Valkyrie. “What about the Infantry?

“What about them?” O’Connor snarled back. “They’re just peasants, they breed like rabbits. We can get more. If we stop to get them out this attack FAILS! I will not be the one to tell the War Master that we lost because we stopped to rescue some damned peasants! Now get your ass moving and keep your mouth shut!”

Apparently realizing just how close to the edge he was, Hernandez wisely chose not to respond.

Luca looked at the map. Still almost three kilometres to go before they reached their target. Close to three kilometres through a raging forest fire. “This is gonna SUCK!” Luca swore to himself. “Those damned heat sinks better hold out, or I’m gonna gut that tech that installed them.”

<Time/Scene Break>

Luca and Gustav staggered their ‘Mechs out of the burning forest. All around them the other surviving members of the assault force did likewise. Behind them, forever to remain as part of the forest, lay the remains of two of the ‘Mechs that had started the hellish march. Peterson, in his Stinger had been trapped by a falling tree and probably knocked unconscious by the fall. At least Luca hoped he’d been knocked out. Cold SOB he might be, but he’d wish that death on no man. Also, Garret, the quiet ex-Davion, had been killed when his ancient Trebuchet’s ammo bins had overheated and exploded.

Luca wiped sweat from his brow once more and surveyed the area. Despite his fears, the UDF and Black Stars were no-where to be seen. Only the other members of the attacking company. Scorched, smoke stained, overheated, and exhausted by their ordeal, but mostly intact.

Luca could hear O’Connor beginning to try to organize the force but was shocked when an unfamiliar voice cut in over the New Saars command channel.

“Good Morning Gentlemen. My name is David Ten-Bears of the Black Stars. We will be hosting this little party this fine morning, I do so hope you enjoyed the party favours we’ve served up so far.

Anyway, as your host, I just wanted to make sure your experience was all it could be. As a part of that, I thought I’d just let you know a little bit about a couple of your companions…. Anton Luca and Gustav Heinz… Yes, you two, take a bow you two… No, well, they must be shy.”

Luca stared at his radio in growing horror. Whatever this Ten-Bears had planned, it couldn’t be good.

“My friend forwarded a tape of a little discussion he had with them back on old Earth, while they were a bit deep in their cups. I realize that many of you will not believe in the validity of this recording, or dismiss it as drunken blather, but I leave you with this saying. In Vino Veritas… judge for yourself the character of those you go to war with. We’ll be waiting when you are ready. Recording begins…

"Us warriors were hooked up ta dis War Master, or something like dat. His gonna pay us real good and propa with muny an' salvage."

"As he should since he'd better not pay you with goats and cows."

"His army's not all THAT bad. We heard he's actually got his hands onto a couple of 'Mechs and loads of tanks. And of course, his forces are bursting at the seams with infantry."

"Like all Periph worlds out there."

"Anyhoo, this War Lord..."

"War Master."

"Whatever. This War Master's been on a campaign to claim the entire world under his rule. He seemed to be pretty successful until the opposition hired a bunch of mercs to help them out. You know of the Black Stars?"

"Never heard of 'em."

"Well, these mercs are a bunch of losers and no hopers from all over the known human universe. I even heard that many of 'em Stars are criminals."

"Criminals?! NO way!"

"Yes way. For some reason, these people actually stemmed the War Master's advances since their arrival. With more than sixty percent of the world already under his control, he REALLY didn't want to stop with his dream uncompleted."

"I completely understand."

"While his opponents have at most a lance or so of 'Mechs, our employer himself already has at least half a dozen. To end his conquest quickly, he's hiring a company of 'Mechs to reinforce his own forces…And that's where WE come in."

"Should be cake walk for you and your friends than eh?"

"Bah! Before da end of da operations, meself and Gustav here are gonna make sure a number of those other Mechjocks run into.... accidents."

"Oh?"

"Yeah…Da less of us left, da more the muny to go 'round."

Luca stared at the now silent speakers. “Oh ^%$&!”

Clementi Forest
New Saars/UDF Conflict Zone
Novo Franklin
11th Oct 3079, 0710 Hours Local Time

What the hell am I doing here? Jamis wondered to himself for what seemed like the thousandth time that day, followed by his second most common thought of the morning, The world has gone mad, or I have.

To say that things hadn’t started well was the understatement of the century. As part of the group of ragtag mercs that had taken Jurong Hill, he’d been caught in the forest fire that had wiped out a good number of their supporting infantry. Not all the systems on his aging Panther PNT-9R worked properly, but thank god the life support and heat sinks held tight. The sight and sounds were bad enough, but if he’d had to smell the poor bloody infantry bring burned to a crisp he would have heaved all over the cockpit. He’d never had a strong stomach for that sort of thing, and he often wondered how the hell he ever ended up in this game.

His trusty, yet unnamed Panther was no speed demon, and that was working in his favour today as the other mercs took the brunt of the traps that had been laid out for them. The fire had scared Jamis, more than he would even admit to himself, and he’d had his finger poised over the ammunition ejection button more than once. The one thing stopping him was the thought that the ammo would probably explode behind him and kill him anyway. He’d gotten cynical in his old age, running from the law will do that to a man, even if some of the charges were real…

Jamis had decided that self-preservation was going to be the order of the day, so he had manoeuvred himself to the back of the pack again when they moved off the top of the hill. After watching Luca’s treachery he had more than just traps on his mind, and if the fires started again then when the others cooked off at least he had his heavier frontal armour there to take the blow.

Gustav had become the defacto leader of the group, and he was leading again. If Jamis had been a betting man he would have been putting an each way bet on Luca and Gustav to be the next to fall, though putting a bet on by whose hand they would fall he would never have been able to figure out.

“He *kzeeeeerrt* ‘ell is ha *kzeert* ing?” a voice cut through over comms.

“You are just having a malfunction idiot,” came the reply.

“My gear doesn’t misfunc… oh, I guess it did.”

“Would you lot sh’ *kzeertt* ‘our damn traps?”

“What the hell?”

“ECM! ECM! ECM! They’re jamming us! We are under attack!”

Ahead of Jamis laser beams started cutting up the forest, some coming perilously close to hitting their own units, which in turn sparked return fire.

“HOLD YOUR DAMN FIRE!” Gustav screamed, and testament to the fact that he had been right before, by some miracle the mercs complied.

“Yah great stinking nitwits, if we was being jammed you wouldna’ hear nuthin’ wo *kzeerrtt* ya?”

There was some general grumbling before an agreement was reached. Jamis was still suspicious, but no attack was forthcoming so he held his tongue, and held his position at the back of the pack. His sensors told him that the infantry and vehicles were behind him somewhere, making tough going out of the moderately thick forest. His sensors cut in and out, though they always did that, and he explained it away remembering an old trick he had played on a group of pirates once, hanging strips of metal in the trees that disrupted communications, and their formation long enough for a trap to be sprung.

Yeah, that must be it… wait a minute! Where’s the trap?

A series of small thuds almost unbalanced the Panther, and the sensor panel Jamis was looking out went completely dead, and he felt a knot of fear growing in his belly as he struggled to keep the machine upright. He keyed the mike to yell for help, but he couldn’t transmit. It was a trap alright, and he’d put himself in perfect position to fall right into it.

The feeling of fear changed to one of complete surprise as a masked helmet appeared in his plexi glass view shield, then, oddly, it waved to him. The ‘Mech stopped dead as confusion spread through his brain. Confusion that was quickly replaced by a growing clarity of though as a second figure swung into view, followed by a thwack as a slap pack was attached to the screen. The knot of fear loosened and Jamis smiled resignedly and leaned down to his right.

Self preservation first bucko


<Scene Break – Five minutes earlier>

The ground was shuddering beneath Markus’ feet as the striding avatars of death strolled past his position. He had his back flat against a tree, and was standing behind some deadfall that he’d arranged as a hide. With his suit’s electronic counter-measure suit running, and the Nighthawk’s stealth armour he knew they couldn’t detect his squad, he just hoped none of them had eagle eyes, or a knowledge of how branches really fell in the forest.

“The cat is the last,” breathed a quiet voice over the only non-jammed channel. The ECM’s only worked over a short range, and Markus was banking on the pirates (he refused to call them mercs any longer), laughing it off as a malfunction or some other trick, as they’d be yapping to each other as they moved passing in and out of his area of effect. The risk was worth it.

After fleeing the artillery barrage, Markus had looped back around to the east, placing himself what he thought was about a click or so inside the northern boundary of the forest. The plan was simple, ambush the last ‘Mech through and then get the hell out of the way of the fire fight. Assist where possible but stay out of the way of the big guns. Do what they did best.

The Panther was taking its time, getting ever more distant from the main group. The pilot was wary, and seemed to study the trees occasionally. Markus had wanted to take down the Shadow Hawk, but it was out the front and there was no way he was taking on what was left of a company of ‘Mechs. One would be plenty, all he wanted was a trophy.

The warning had come from Luna, who was stationed further into the forest, it was a risk but an accepted one to split the team. Just as the Panther drew level, Markus took a couple of breaths. He’d done this before, but always in a heavier suit, the Nighthawks weren’t designed for this but he was going to give it a go anyway. It could be fun.

“Now,” he breathed quietly into his comms unit.

The Panther was already a step passed the hide when Markus burst out, firing his jump jets and landing on the ‘Mech’s flat shoulder. The idea of fun traced through his brain again as he shimmied across the top of the ‘Mech’s head and poked his face into the viewport. The man inside jumped, looking scared. Lockout had landed on the ‘Mechs other shoulder and the less humorous man immediately slapped the shape-charge onto the window. What Markus saw next was something he hadn’t been expecting.

The ‘Mech pilot’s expression had changed from fear to a wry grin as he reached towards the right handed side of the command chair. It took Markus an instant to realize what he was doing, an instant too long.

“BAIL!!!!!!!”

Firing his jets, Markus jumped backwards off the Panther’s shoulder just as the machine’s head exploded and the command chair fired up into the overcast morning sky. The pilot had ejected. The blast sent Markus reeling and he slammed into a tree, but controlled his fall and landed gently. Lockout was already on the ground, flat on his back and not moving. He was still standing right next to the machine’s head when the charges went off and had been blown off, fallen uncontrolled to the ground from twelve metres up. It made Markus wince just thinking about it.

“Luna, move up, Lockout is down.”

Remedy, who had been busy placing satchel charges in the Panther’s leg joints, was already at Lockout’s side. The charges remained unexploded, he’d read the situation as clearly as ever.

“Readout says he is unconscious but otherwise uninjured. New plan?”

“The infantry will be through shortly. Is it safe to move him?”

“Yeah, looking at the marks I’d say he smacked his head on a tree and is out, nothing broken.”

“Much as I hate to do this…” Markus keyed an open, emergency channel, “Code XR41, man down, condition stable, request medi-vac team be put on standby, over.”

“XR41, return code FQ80, request confirmed. Location, over?”

“Location to be confirmed. Just be ready.”

Luna and Remedy already had Lockout hoisted between them.

“Right then, let’s get ourselves out of the line of fire shall we.”


Hidden Command Bunker 1.5 Kilometres southwest of Firebase Nova
New Saars/UDF Conflict Zone
Novo Franklin
11th Oct 3079, 0800 Hours Local Time

David looked up as Colonel Grierson stormed into the bunker, snarling his rage.

“You!” The Colonel bellowed. “What’s this I hear about you ordering a withdrawal?! The enemy isn’t even here yet! What sort of cowardice is this?”

David just stared at the man coldly for a long few moments, saying nothing. Then, he shrugged and turned back to the map as he addressed the irate base commander. “Yes, Colonel, I DID order the withdrawal. Exactly as planned under conditional plan Beta three.” David’s voice betrayed nothing of his irritation at the man’s posturing.

Continuing with no pause, David’s voice almost sounded like he was giving a war-college lecture, rather than detailing a current operation. “As you would know already, if you had bothered to read your situation reports, the New Saars forces are advancing on this position in overwhelming strength. If we remain to fight in place, we will be overrun and destroyed, crippling the UDF in the process, and handing overall victory to Gould’s forces.” David shrugged. “Gould’s butt-boys wouldn’t enjoy their victory a whole lot, because we’d cost them dearly before going down, but they’d still be the ones standing once the smoke cleared.”

“So you’re just going to run away?!” The angry Colonel sputtered. “Losing hand or not, at least my boys are brave enough to stand their ground!”

David smiled coldly. “I’d not be throwing such accusations around lightly, Colonel. Unless you’d prefer to say them across a duelling field.”

Colonel Grierson glared at David. “Where’s Zhao? I don’t know why I’m wasting my time with YOU, you aren’t even the Commander of you lot of sorry-ass mercs.”

David looked over his shoulder at Grierson. “Zhao is busy right now. I believe he’s co-ordinating the infantry movement to the rally point. Once they get moving, we’ll start the slower tanks on their way… Last to go are the fast movers.”

Grierson’s shoulders slumped. “So that’s it? We just hand them the base? After all I and my men did to build it? Not even a fight?”

David shook his head. “Did I ever say that we’d just HAND it over? No, Colonel… If they want this base, they’ll have to pay the going rate for it…”

“Incoming aircraft!” The Sensor tech yelled from the far wall. “Four inbound from the North, IFF is negative!”

“Alert the defence net.” David snapped out his orders. “Let the Partisan do its job, and everyone else keep their heads down!”

The feeds from the remote cameras jumped around as nearby explosions shook the ground. David and Grierson watched silently as four previously unknown conventional aircraft. Two Guardian light fighters, and two Medium strike fighters swept in low, firing rockets and missiles as they came.

When they pulled up and away after their pass, two UDF Scorpions were burning in their revetments. They did not make it away unscathed though. One of the Medium strike fighters didn’t follow them back up into the gray skies, having exploded into a cloud of flame and shredded metal when it strayed too close to the UDF’s Partisan and caught the heavy anti-aircraft tank’s full broadside. One of the Guardians was also damaged when the Scorpion it was killing managed to strike back with its parting shot. The small aircraft limped skyward trailing smoke and a plume of leaking fuel vapour.

David sounded almost amused as he spoke softly. “Well, now, it seems we aren’t the only ones that can manage to keep a secret…. interesting.”

“Interesting?!... INTERESTING?!” Grierson looked dumbfounded. “If that’s what you call “Interesting”, I’d hate to see “Bad news”.”

------

Zi Long sighed as the confusion and panicking among the UDF forces continued to simmer among the UDF forces. The Black Stars had trained the Franklin Trustee Council aligned forces as well as they could, but half a year of training could never make a rabble of mostly peasant soldiers into hardened professionals. When the orders came in for the UDF forces to give up their entrenched positions to move towards a rallying point away to the Southwest of the Firebase, frightened protests had flooded in from all corners nearly immediately. The earlier attack by the enemy fighters had further driven the frenzy up several notches. If not for the Partisan and a VERY lucky Scorpion bringing down one, and damaging another of the conventional fighters, Zi Long had thought that the UDF infantry might have actually broke ranks and fled. The CO of the Black Stars had than grinned as he attributed the locals' fear of anything airborne to the exploits of Trouble Inc. It would be so totally cool to be written up as stories to scare children into beds at night.

Surprisingly, one of the first calls Zi Long received was from Trenchard. The Posavski retainer and spokesman for the Franklin Trustees had been buried deep in paper work and the inevitable political manoeuvring among the Franklin Trustees Councils as nobles sort to position themselves so that they could be in seats of power when Novo Franklin eventually came under the leadership of the Council. Zi Long had been greatly amused at how sentiments changed with a few military victories under the UDF belt. Confidence had grown to such an extent that the final outcome where the Franklin Trustees would be the winner of this civil war was all but accepted fact in THIS side of the UDF/ New Saars borders.

There were even talks that the UDF should dispense with the 'Stars' services, given the setbacks the New Saars Militia and their hired mercenaries had suffered. Judging by how much chaos and difficulty the operation to withdraw had generated, Zi Long was sure more than a few such thoughts would have quietly been shelved aside - at least for the moment. Still, he had heard from more than a quarter or two of some nobles already planning to bring in their own mercenaries once the contract of the Black Stars ended. After all, outside military backing had proved to be the main factor in the war. While David had frowned on Zi Long's pet vice, he himself had found brothels and whore houses a most excellent source of information. Zi Long had no doubt that Trenchard, Prince Ljudevit Posavski and the Franklin Trustee Council would soon be faced with another ugly civil war after Gould and his goons were defeated. Civil strive was a vice Novo Franklin seemed VERY reluctant to kick, it would seem.

The panic and uncertainty actually spread down from the top. Officers who had been getting accustomed being on the winning side and having their enemies look like fools were now told to gather their people and equipment, and more importantly OUT of already well prepared defensive positions for a withdrawal out of the Firebase. The Sergeants who passed down the orders could sense and feel their officers' fears, and they in turn transferred their own misgivings to the troops on the ground. These in turn bounced back to the officers, who felt a mutiny and breakdown among their soldiers were inevitable, which drove themselves to even more panic. Zi Long had to explain long and hard to Trenchard on why they were carrying out the withdrawal. It was fortunate that the Posavski retainer was an experienced soldier. He had than helped to explain and convince the UDF officers - fast enough to at least start the initial organization of the movement.

Zi Long was just glad that they had already started moving off hours before in small groups. He could imagine the impossibility of moving the entire UDF forces from the Firebase at one go - it was DEFINITELY not pretty. It was lucky that the UDF forces had supplemented their own fleets of armoured personnel carriers and trucks by the massive number of vehicles captured from the New Saars Militia since the start of the conflict. Low in quality they might be, Zi Long needed their carrying capabilities more. He couldn't care less if a few troopers grew blisters on their behinds from seating on unpadded seats.

"Tha last detachment of 'dem UDF infantry are all ready da go, boy 'o." X shouted from one of the opened side hatch doors of the Black Stars' Morningstar vehicle. "Ya might wanna git' ya arse in here, don't ya noe."

The Black Stars commander grinned at the first piece of good news he had received all morning as he jogged towards the waiting vehicle. Brandon handed him a comms set which he promptly clipped over his head as he pulled on his crash helmet. The electronics, surveillance and communications specialist swiftly closed and locked the hatch quickly before squirming to his seat. Zi Long smiled at the older man. "X, you really ought to call me Sir or Captain from time to time you know. For the sake of appearances."

"Why?" X shrugged. "Ya ain't me daddy none."

"A fact I'll be eternity grateful for." Zi Long laughed as Brandon linked him to the UDF field officer in charge of the last group of remaining soldiers. "Let's move your boys out of here Lieutenant Geremi. I'm pretty sure they wouldn't want to be amongst the Firebase in a while."

The reply on the other end was quick, but still hesitant. Zi Long made sure the convoy of APCs and trucks were on their way before he ordered Louie to move the Morningstar along as well towards the rallying point southwest to Firebase Nova. They would soon be followed by the slower tanks and vehicles, and then lastly by the fastest elements within their ranks. "Don't worry Lieutenant, the rest of us are just an arm's length away."

"That adage has always had me pondering Captain." Frederick's asked from the gunner's position. "I mean, some men's are longer than others."

"I see that the girls at the Double Whammy have been telling you stories about me again eh Frederick?" Zi long replied. The crew of the Morningstar all shared a laugh at that, bleeding away some of the tension.

Zi Long allowed himself a small breath of relief. The withdrawal had not turned into a blind and mad rush akin to a route after all. He suddenly held his breath. Crap. That's a hundred c-bills he now owes David.

<0845 Hours, Local Time>

Combined arms tactical doctrine in most nations commonly calls for BattleMechs to spearhead offensive thrusts, supported by armour units and followed by infantry to consolidate and hold ground. In most armies this would be the accepted doctrine…. most armies.

Most armies do not have commanders like Roger O’Connor.

The New Saars formations that began the assault on Firebase Nova were exactly inverted from normal accepted doctrine. Huge waves of poorly armed conscript infantry led the assault, herded forward by a sawtooth formation of light gun carriers, which in turn were guided by a gun-line of light and medium tanks. Lastly, bringing up the rear, the half-dozen ‘Mechs that New Saars had committed to this thrust spread themselves out and followed.

From within the command bunker, David and Colonel Grierson watched their advance via remote camera viewpoint.

“That doesn’t make any sense!” Grierson burst out. “Half of those infantry don’t even have guns! What do they hope to accomplish? If my boys were still in place, we’d grind them to hamburger!” He turned to face David. “It’s not too late. I can still get a few of my boys back in the lines.” He sounded hopeful.

David shook his head. “No Colonel, they can stay where they are for now… But don’t you worry, they’ll get their fill of fighting before this is done… As for the enemy’s tactics, well those make a sick sort of sense.”

Ten-Bears gestured at the map and the screen. “If you think like Gould and O’Connor…. and don’t give a damn for your troops, this makes perfect sense. The infantry are their easiest to replace resource… They just don’t CARE if they lose them in job-lots. They also have, and can get more converted weapons carriers than tanks, and more tanks than ‘Mechs. So that’s the order they spend them in.”

He stabbed his finger down at a point on the map. “The infantry are there to die… either by clearing mines with their bodies, or by being killed by the active defences. In doing so, they will tell the following units exactly where our defences are, and they can then concentrate fire on them…. The same logic applies to the weapons carriers and tanks. If the infantry miss something, or the defences prove tough enough to last a little while, again, they die, opening the way for the ‘Mechs.”

David shrugged. “I imagine the fact that O’Connor is a cowardly bastard and sadistic SOB, probably helped him rationalize the plan.”

Grierson stared at the display, wincing slightly when he thought about what those poor dumb bastard infantry were about to encounter. He knew every inch of that ground, and helped supervise the construction of the multiple layers of the defences. “So when do WE take action?”

David smiled. “We let them bleed themselves against the defences for a while. They have enough bodies to throw at them to make it through… it’ll cost them, but they do. So, they pay the bill to get past the defence rings, we’ll let them get a few units inside the wire before we show them the REAL bill… the one with the cover charge and six drink minimum.”

Grierson was nodding along with David as he began to understand. “That’s why you had us wire self-destruct charges in all the positions and bunkers.”

“Exactly.” David grinned. “They might be able to take the base, but they gain NOTHING, except a few holes in the ground…. which they’ll need for all the bodies they’ll have created. At that point, we show our hand.”

He leaned over the map and pointed out a few positions. “The UDF Armour forces, augmented by the Black Stars tanks, will advance along this route, line abreast, sweeping any enemy forces encountered along this axis.” He indicated another point. “This will, unfortunately for them, force them into this mined area here… The Infantry will follow the armour forces to consolidate and take custody of any survivors.”

“What about the Black Star’s ‘Mech forces? What will you be doing? And O’Connor’s ‘Mechs?” Grierson looked concerned. “Won’t they be a problem for the armour column? “

David chuckled. “That they would be. Which is why we’ll be giving them something else to think about.” He smiled widely. “We’re going to be doing a little headhunting.”


<Scene/Time break>


David picked up the small hand mike and spoke softly. “Commence firing.”

Several kilometres away, the New Saars infantry had been picking its way through the minefields that formed the outer ring of Firebase Nova’s defences for several minutes and already they had suffered over twenty casualties as the untrained troopers attempted to sweep the explosives from the path of the armour behind them.

Even if the peasant infantry had heard the hollow thumps of the mortars firing, it is doubtful that they would have been able to do anything. Trapped flat footed in a minefield, with “Friends” directly behind them ready to gun them down if they tried to retreat, all the luckless foot sloggers could do was crouch down and keep on trying to clear a path as the shells began to land.

The mortars used by the UDF weren’t big, most of them only sixty millimetre models, and there were only a half-dozen of them available for this location, so they didn’t have the sort of crushing effect that a proper massed artillery barrage would have had. The enemy armour would have been almost completely immune to their shells if they had even a token armour shell across the top and back. As it was, a lucky shot claimed one of the gun carriers early on in the battle.

Most of the light mortar shells burst over the heads of the labouring infantry, showering them with sprays of shrapnel and wounding far more than they killed. One shell though, flew a bit farther than the gunner had intended and fell among the converted gun carriers that trailed the infantry, herding them forward. If it had fallen just 5 yards shorter or farther, the carrier’s crew would have been unharmed. Even three yards to the side would likewise have spared the unfortunate crew. But it was not to be… instead the errant shell detonated squarely above the vehicle, spraying the crew compartment with shards of red hot metal.

The stricken gun carrier lurched and shuddered to a stop as the driver slumped across his controls, killed instantly. Behind him, the other two crew members moaned and writhed as they bled to death from multiple wounds.

Out in the open, the infantry was suffering more from the indirect effects of the barrage, rather than the actual mortar shells. While the shells were causing some casualties, mostly shrapnel wounds, a lot of these were relatively minor. What was really swinging the reaper’s scythe was the effect the blasts had on the trooper’s concentration.

Mine after mine exploded among the New Saars infantry, either through sympathetic detonation with a nearby mortar shell, or when set off by a distracted trooper attempting to clear it.

<Scene Break>

David shifted a few markers on the map board as reports from the observers trickled in. Combined with the remaining video feeds, he thought he had a good grasp of how the battle was progressing.

Turning to Grierson, he grinned and spoke. “All according to projections so far…. The New Saars forces are about three quarters of the way through the mines. Estimated casualties are upwards of a hundred infantry killed or wounded and one gun carrier killed outright, with a couple others pill-boxed with blown tracks.”

Grierson nodded. “Unfortunately, they have the bodies to spend.”

David’s smile faded slightly. “That they do… for now…. we’ll see how long they can keep this up.”

“When do we let the bunkers engage?” Grierson asked impatiently. “Since you’ve taken charge of this mess.”

“Not just yet I think.” David chuckled. “We have a few other gifts for them first.”

<Scene Shift>

“I don’t care how many bloody damned infantry we’ve lost!” Roger O’Connor raged over the comm-channels. “You get those gutless bastards moving forward NOW! Or I’ll have your worthless ass impaled!”

As the battle had progressed, O’Connor had become more and more enraged at the slow progress being made. At least the hill had been taken at last, so that was at least one thing off his mind.

“Any word from the scouts?” He snarled into his mike, addressing Kolbe, his second in command. “Where the hell are the enemy ‘Mechs?!”

“Nothing, Colonel.” The clipped response came back instantly. “No reports of any ‘Mech activity at all.”

“How the hell am I supposed to fight a battle without any information?!” O’Connor raged. “Those lazy scum better hope they’re already dead, because if I get a hold of them…. I’ll teach them about slacking off on scouting!”

The officers that could hear O’Connor’s ranting just kept on with their grim tasks. Long experience had taught them that when the man got in that sort of mood, it was risking your life to draw his attention.

“And someone get on the horn and tell the damned flyboys to hurry up and get back here! Were not paying them to chase nurses back at base!”

“Yes, Sir! On it Sir!” O’Connor’s aide agreed immediately, well aware that informing his boss that the aircraft would have at LEAST a forty minute round trip back to the base to refuel and re-arm before they’d be back would not be good for his continued health. To keep their existence secret, they’d had to accept a less than optimum location for their base, and part of that was the travel times required, which also limited loiter capability over the battlefield.

<Scene Shift>

The lead infantry elements breathed an unconscious sigh of relief as they broke clear of the minefields. At the same time, the incessant mortar barrage that had caused them so much difficulty also came to a stop.

Looking around, they caught their breaths for a moment while the following armour units began to stream through the cleared lanes. Many of the troopers looked at each other in disbelief. This was wrong, even they knew that, with their limited training. SOMETHING was about to happen, they just knew it… just as they knew it wouldn’t be something good.

They didn’t have long to wait.

All across the perimeter, low mounds of sand and dirt were heaped in a regular pattern. The New Saars Captain who saw them first dismissed them as mere physical obstacles, just something to hinder tank movement. It was an understandable mistake, but a mistake nonetheless.

As the infantry and armour began to fan out from the lanes that had been so laboriously carved out of the minefields, they discovered just EXACTLY what those innocuous looking mounds really were.

Under each mound, laying at a forty five degree angle, was a single fifty-five gallon fuel drum. Each one was filled with a jellied gasoline mixture and sat atop a command detonated hand grenade.

As each emplacement was detonated, the grenade’s explosive charge, focused by the mounded earth, caused the gasoline gel to spray out in a flaming fan for almost sixty yards.

In an instant, six gun-carriers, three Scorpion light tanks, and almost two full battalions of infantry were roasted alive.

Great billows of black smoke curled skyward as a wave of heat could be felt almost two hundred meters away. Even O’Connor was rendered speechless for a moment by the event.

Almost as soon as the initial blast had begun to die down, hidden bunkers began to engage the surviving New Saars tanks. Waves of simple, unguided rockets washed out from the breastworks as each fighting position unmasked and engaged.

The New Saars vehicles reacted quickly as three more of their number were blotted from existence, at least here was an enemy they could shoot!

But even here they were destined to frustration. As each position fired, it was abandoned, the single crewman in each location having fired his one shot rocket pod. By the time the vehicles were able to respond, no-one remained to engage. They were out of sight behind the bermed hillside that marked Firebase Nova’s position, and racing away on light motorbikes.

<Scene shift>

David grunted. “That’s it then… I’d better get to my ‘Mech.” He turned to Grierson. “I’ll leave it to you to decide the timing on the final charges. Just remember two things. Allow ten to fifteen seconds for the fuel spray to mix with the air before you send the ignition command, and hang on tight when you do…. it might be a bit of a bang.”

------

Zi Long whistled tunelessly to himself as he strapped himself into the cockpit of the 'Mech. For some reasons, the enemy fighters had not looped around to strike at them again. Granted, the presence of the Partisan might have something to do with it, but it was just ONE anti aircraft gun. Still, he thanked the gods for small favours. If the fighters had even turned back and conducted high altitude recon flights, the pilots would have been blind not to have notice the small groups of UDF pulling out from Firebase Nova.

Around and behind him, the Black Stars were all ready for the return trip to the Firebase - or what would be left of it. Roughly one and a half kilometres from the Firebase, the 'Stars could actually observe the approach of the New Saars forces towards Firebase Nova - both the heavily depleted mercenary led forces staggering out from Clementi Forests and Jurong Hill from the southeast of the former UDF stronghold, and the New Saars Militia forces that had just cleared the minefields north of the Firebase.

The Taurian tapped on his ear piece. "You got O' Connor pinned down yet X?"

"Pffff. Da man's strings of curses coulda' led ya tha him without me help, boy' O." Brandon remarked disparagingly from the comms console of the Morningstar command vehicle. "He ain't liking all 'dis very much, I would imagine. He's even forgettin' his radio discipline."

A stupid enemy is a gift from the heavens. "I'm sure I'll lose sleep over it." Zi Long grinned. "Any news from David?"

"He's handed over tha controls of tha ka-booms to Colonel Grierson an' buggerin' over here eve' as we speak."

"Excellent." Zi Long nodded. Their hastily put up plan was simple in execution. The New Saars Militia will walk into a supposed empty and evacuated Firebase Nova. Once they squeeze as much of themselves into it as possible, Grierson SHOULD give them a hot welcome with the planted explosives. The Black Stars will take that as a cue and sweep from the enemies' sides. With the losses and damage they just suffered, plus the trudge they had endured through the mine fields to the north of the Firebase, the enemy forces within the Firebase would be driven towards their allies and companions coming in from the southeast, where another minefield had been prepared.

The UDF armour and infantry, supported by the Black Stars' own smaller but qualitatively superior combat vehicles and troopers would sweep the New Saars survivors in the base towards the southeast in a massive hooking manoeuvre, while the four Black Stars BattleMechs will punch through whatever conventional opposition they came across and go straight for the viper's head - one General Roger O' Connor.

It was a brutally simple and devastating tactic that was a throwback to the classic Blitzkrieg warfare invented eons ago. And it will be as effective now as it was back then.


North of Clementi Forests
New Saars/UDF Conflict Zone
Novo Franklin
11th Oct 3079, 0815 Hours Local Time

Major Al-Sabayah nodded as the last of his stranded soldiers were loaded onto the sole Silver Sabre Blizzard hover tank that had detached itself from the surviving Azami mercenary unit. The mercenary officer had commandeered one of the last two remaining operational Blizzard hover transport hover craft and undertook the mission to extricate his people himself.

His own officers - those that had survived, or at least not injured, had protested against his decision of course. The Silver Sabres were already heavily savaged in the fight, it might spell the end of the unit if they lost their CO as well. However, Major Al-Sabayah had stubbornly insisted on his selected course of action. These Black Stars had promised him safe passage if he did not take any offensive actions. The other hover tanks of the Silver Sabres were also waiting tensely within sensor range of the Black Stars' tanks - another one of the conditions the XO of the 'Stars had insisted on.

Al-Sabayah had quickly found the infantry and crewmen of the immobilized Blizzard. Lieutenant George Flynn had suffered the worst injury, with at least two broken ribs, while the rest of his troopers suffered nothing more than bruises and bumps. Sadly, both the crew of the Harassers had perished - consumed by the flames of their destroyed tanks. Speed and manoeuvrability were nothing against accurate and deadly enemy firepower, especially when the twenty five ton missile armed hover missile platforms were each protected by a mere one and a half ton of StarSlab armour plates.

Captain Medhi Zahir in his damaged Plainsman had rushed towards the rash Lieutenant Hawas's Saladin before the truce between the two mercenary commands had been agreed. Despite the threat of the thirty five ton assault tank's exploding ammunition and internal combustion engine, as well as the fire from the short range missile hit combat vehicle, Medhi and his crew had braved the inferno and pulled out the unconscious Lieutenant and his crew. It proved to be too late for two of the crew, although Hawas himself was still alive - even if just barely.

With the kind of medical facilities the New Saars had, Al-Sabayah had come to the quick conclusion that there was no way the badly burnt Hawas would survive even if he made it back behind their lines. Medhi, as expected by Al-Sabayah, had volunteered to stay with the young officer as the Silver Sabres called in the Black Stars to provide medical assistance to Hawas.

"You are certain about your decision?" Major Al-Sabayah asked of his XO again as the hatch to the Blizzard closed, the last stretcher finally carried within its six ton capacity compartment.

The veteran soldier nodded as he scanned the horizon for the promised Black Stars medi-vac. "I am."

Al-Sabayah stepped forward and the two long time friends and comrades clasped their arms tightly. "Know that if any harm should befall you, I shall lead the Sabres to avenge you even if it would mean our deaths."

"Somehow, I doubt the 'Stars would display any treachery." Medhi shock his head grimly. "It is the War Master and his pet General O' Connor I am more worried about Al-Sabayah-bhai. Your order to withdraw the Silver Sabres from combat will not sit well with them, and we both know of the fate that many have suffered in their hands for bringing less than joyous news."

"Let me worry about them, Medhi-bhai." Al-Sayabah replied as he started climbing up the waiting Blizzard. "I just hope that all this madness ends quickly without any more unnecessary deaths." He cast his glance in the direction where surviving New Saars employed mercenary BattleMechs and their own infantry, as well as remaining vehicles were advancing before Firebase Nova. "At least not on our side."

"In shah Allah." Medhi nodded in agreement.

The Major looked down from his perched position onto of the hover tank. "In shah Allah."


South of Clementi Forest
New Saars/UDF Conflict Zone
Novo Franklin
11th Oct 3079, 08:30 Hours Local Time

Quin was stationed here just a mere 15 km from the Clementi forest. He was one of three of Blue flights Ferrets who were positioned around the southern perimeter of the Clementi forest ready to respond to evacuation requests to bring in severely wounded troopers. Behind him another 100 km was the field medical hospital for the casualties that had and would still be arriving. The base also included three squads of infantry one of which was Black Star to act as guards for the hospital especially when they were also likely to have enemy soldiers come through as well.

He was sitting huddled in the cargo section of his craft sipping a hot cup of coffee. There was a field medic rolled up in a sleeping bag on a fold down cot. It was one of six done that way to serve as a place for wounded personnel. He was contemplating if he wanted any of the hot soup that was in his gear when the call came in and over the radio.

"Code XR41, man down, condition stable, request medi-vac team be put on standby, over."

"XR41, return code FQ80, request confirmed. Location, over?"

"Location to be confirmed. Just be ready."

His ears perked up. He knew that the battle for Jurong hill was being waged. That was why he was out here on the back side of this small hill in a cold heavy down pour, sitting and waiting. Just up at the top of the hill were a father and son. They were goat farmers and their flock was just on the other side of the hill. They were tending their flock but they were also acting as his eyes keeping an eye out for any enemy forces that might appear. Their warning should provide him with enough time to get away.

He knew the request would be processed back at the hospital and they would assign which of the three craft would be assigned to respond. Moments later the response came in on his radio. He had been chosen. Medical dispatch was ordering him to proceed to a set of grid coordinates and await further instructions. He opened the door just enough to empty the remains of his cup of coffee before heading into the cockpit. He pulled on the helmet with mike and gave a quick wilco to dispatch. He tucked the thermos into his valve pack back and then started up his craft. The engine coughed to life. It didn’t’ like this wet weather any better than he did.

A minute later the rotor blades were already spinning but not quite up to lift off speed yet. The thing about the call that caught his attention, other than the fact it was only one of the few calls he had received today, was the designation was for a Black Stars unit. It wasn’t suppose to matter when medical calls came in, strictly from a military point of view, but everybody knew that Black Stars meant family. Quin had never been very fond of Special Operations people, always thought they were arrogant and better than the others. The fact the infantry would probably say the same thing about the pilots didn’t even cross his mind. The rotors were almost up to speed. The goat herders at the top of the hill heard the motor cough to life and so did the goats. They got a little spooked and started moving further down the reverse slope of the hill, away from the helicopter. The herders moved after them.

Now that the rotors were up to speed Quin lifted off. He really gunned the motor on this one. He wanted to make sure he was really moving when he broke cover from the hill. Just in case the lookouts weren’t as observant as they should have been. He didn’t want to provide anyone with as an easy target such as that. He was already pushing past 35 kph when he cleared the cover of the hill. He then turned hard left and angling at the same time. He hoped this would further throw off an gunners that might be aiming for him while he was changing course. A few moments later Quin is accelerating past 70 kph and on course toward the grid coordinates he had been given. He kept his altitude down to 200 meters although that was still pretty high. Given a lot of the New Saars gunners training procedures didn’t even include target recognition. Hell, they would fire at anything that was flying. Lucky for them they didn’t have any aircraft yet, because if they did they would be as much a threat to them as they would be to him. The rain coming down was mostly occluding any kind of vision through the perspex of his canopy, meaning he was almost strictly on instrumentation. He kept a fine eye open on his sensors for anything that might be a threat. As yet he hadn’t seen anything. Quin he kept the craft moving. As he reached the proper sector he radioed back to the field hospital.

"Medivac three to base, medivac three to base, I am in quadrant. Requesting updated coordinates." Quin

"Band Aid one to medi-vac three, request received standby."

It felt like it was taking an inordinate amount of time, but after a couple of minutes Band Aid came back.

"Band Aid one to medi-vac three, Switch to channel A4. You will be vectored in locally. Be advised OB-1 is enroute to as well, ETA 15 minutes. Over."

Quin wasn’t exactly sure what was going on here, the first part of the message seemed blatantly obvious. He reached up and switched the radio to the preset A4. He came up on the net.

"Medi-vac three on guard, Medi-vac three on guard, requesting updated coordinates. Over." Quin

The response came back almost immediately.

"Medi-vac three, medi-vac three, this is Red Light 4, take new heading 010 check back in in 3 minutes."

"Medi-vac three, to Red Light 4, Roger." Quin

Quin altered course to heading 010 and maintained his speed of 120 kph. Just as 3 minutes came up on his watch, he was about to key the mike again when he picked up a beeping. It was a homing beacon. It was off his port rear quarter. Quin altered his heading again, back hard left 135 degrees. He quietly cursed at that one. At 120 kph, even with the flexibility and speed of his craft that was a hard turn. In the mean time Quin was trying to remember what the hell designation Red Light 4 was. Four minutes later he arrives over the target position, as indicated by the direction finder and all he sees is forest.

He immediately starts dropping speed as he starts circling the area. His speed is now down to 40kph, while he is looking all around. At this speed he actually starts gaining some visibility back through the heavy rain. All he sees is forest, so where the hell are they! THERE! A flash of light there! He swings his craft over that reducing speed further. He is down to just a mere 15kph. And he finally starts seeing the light. There he sees it again. "R… 4, … R… 4" This has got to be the place. Quin looks at it again. If this clearing that magically seemed to appear out of nowhere was larger than 20 meters in diameter he’d eat his shorts.

The light was coming from near the tree line. He measures things up for a landing not once, not twice, but three times shaking his head the whole time.

"This is really screwed up!" Quin

He starts lowering his craft into the hole. Just as he touches down he sees three figures appear from the tree line carrying a fourth. Then things made instant sense to Quin, this was Markus’s group, and shit things must have really hit the fan because these guys arent’ wearing anything but underwear and boots. As they approached the side of the craft the medic opens the side door and helps the unconscious person inside and onto a stretcher.

A moment later Quin hears over the intercom.

"Where the hell is our cases?"

Quin looks baffled for a moment, then realizes what the rest of the message that he didn’t understand earlier. He keyed the intercom.

"I don’t’ have your cases, the cases are enroute, ETA is probably less than five minutes." Quin

"You are suppose to have our cases!"

"I’ve got plasma, blood, and balls, what more do you want! I told you your cases are inbound and will be here in about five. Now if you will excuse me I will take your man and get him the attention he needs." Quin

With that he added just a minute amount of power, not enough to lift off but noticeable enough for the others. Moments later the three men disappear back to the tree line and he felt the side door slide shut. As soon as they reached the tree line he started adding power and started lifting off. He waited until he was a good 15 meters above the tree line before he started applying forward thrust. The betty beside his head started yelling. Sensor contact! From the general direction and speed meant it was either OB-1 or a bat out of hell. Because whoever the son a bitch flying OB-1 was, had the craft cranked out at over 240 kph! His sensors were also showing that the craft was flying at his level. After noticing this he also noticed that the craft had just altered heading and was heading almost directly at him. Out of instinct he started pulling off at a 90 angle to the inbound craft and started applying power like crazy trying to get the hell outta here.

Just moments later his speed indicator was showing he was just passing 50 kpm and the sensors were showing that the craft was just passing the spot he had just vacated. As he was pulling out he notices the craft suddenly drop off speed and started banking. They must have found the beacon, Quin thought.

With that taken care of, he continued on his current heading for another five minutes then changed course for Band Aid and started climbing. He levelled off at 3,000 meters. The cloud ceiling started at 300 meters. Due to the poor visibility, Band Aid had assigned each medi-vac flight its own altitude band to fly in. Nobody else was allowed in that band. This would allow them to fly without fear of any collisions. It was also high enough that he wouldn’t be in any danger from ground based guns. Any deviations from this would have to be coordinated with Band Aid. Quin hit the intercom.

"How is he doing?" Quin

"Unconscious, possible concussion, no other visible trauma. They believe fall damage." Medic

Quin immediately thought "If the guy landed on his head there would be no damage."

"Roger." Quin

Quin added power bringing his airspeed up to about 175 kph. ETA to Band Aid was about 45 minutes.

<Meanwhile back on the ground at Red Light>

They had no sooner seen Quin’s medi-vac flight leave the area when another craft came screaming overhead. Moments later it was back flying much much slower. It appeared brief seconds later over the clearing. It circled once and immediately set down, in the clearing. The landing was feather light. The craft in front of them was the Little Bird.

Markus and his team ran forward. Remedy and Luna ran around to the passenger side of the craft and opened the door. On the floor and the seat were crammed 3 cases. Between the two of them they pulled them out in just a few seconds and were running off for the trees. Markus stopped at the pilots door. What he saw was a familiar face with pony tails and red ribbons. She turned her head from watching them remove the cases and closing the door, she reached up and pulled the red coloured lollipop from her mouth saluted with it and then put it back in her mouth. What could Markus do but grin. He gave a half hearted salute and then took off after his crew. There were dry fatigues and a hot meal in that case.

As soon as he was clear Alice cranked up the RPMs and lifted off. Altered course for Band Aid and headed back travelling at 40 meters and 150 kph.


North of Clementi Forests
New Saars/UDF Conflict Zone
Novo Franklin
11th Oct 3079, 0821 Hours Local Time

Whitman was doing Medi-vac this shift. Now that the action was starting to die down the requests were starting to come in. The call had come in about 15 minutes ago. Immediate medi-vac requested. The coordinates given were outside the forest. He acknowledged the orders and started for the coordinates.

He was surprised when he was joined a few minutes later by a pair of Warriors. They were each armed with 4 rocket pods each. They had been diverted from a hunting mission. They followed him to within 2 klicks of the coordinates and then climbed to 500 meters, and started a racetrack pattern.

Whitman noticed then that his pick up was not a UDF or Black Star trooper. There were two people out in the open. One was laying on the ground, the other standing there watching his arrival. He keyed the comm requesting confirmation on the pickup. Band Aid responded that he was to pick up two people.

Whitman was a little nervous, but he slowed the craft and did a careful landing. The medic opened the side door and rushed out with a med kit in hand. After a brief exchange with the man standing there, he knelt and gave a brief examination of the prone figure. He then administered something from his kit and waved for a hand on loading the figure.

Whitman left the cockpit and grabbed a stretcher and ran over. Whitman’s stomach immediately started to churn. Just looking at the burns were enough, then the stench of burnt flesh hit his nostrils. He had all he could do to keep his stomach in check. The medic carefully manoeuvred the poor man onto the stretcher and waved for Whitman to take one end. Medhi reached over and picked up one end of the stretcher. He helped the medic carry the stretcher to the waiting helicopter. Once the poor soldier was strapped into a bunk. The medic pointed to another bunk across from him and motioned for him to sit down. He then started a saline IV for the burn victim. The medic grabbed the intercom set and told Whitman to haul ass. The burn victim was critical.

Whitman had returned to the cockpit and had been waiting for the medic to give the word. With the message of critical he spun up the rotors and pulled out as soon as he could. He did a gentle turn and then started pouring on the speed.

He keyed the comm.

"Medi-vac two to Band Aid, Medi-vac two to Band Aid, have made pick up. Be advised. One patient, condition critical, notify the burn team. ETA 40 minutes." Whitman

After the message he took the craft up to his altitude flight band and brought the craft up to just under full military power. He went by the two Warriors like they were standing still. After medi-vac two had left the two warriors loitered there for another two minutes before pulling out to resume their mission. The Sabres had had enough for this day and had after the medi-vac helo left, started their own pull out. Medhi watched as the medic used swift but sure hands to remove as much of the clothing without disturbing anything that had been burned into the skin. Medhi was satisfied that the medic was competent and doing what he could, so he wandered to the side door and looked out the window. He could see the smoke rolling off Jurong Hill and worse still he watched the attack on firebase Nova start. From his vantage point he could see the UDF and Black Star forces sitting off a short distance from the base. Being a cavalry officer he could easily see what was about to happen.

"In shah Allah." Medhi spoke softly to himself.

He watched until he lost sight of the action. He then returned to his seat, and patiently waited.

After 20 minutes into the flight the medic hung another bag of saline and did a blood typing of his patient. They would need this back at the hospital.

Camp Mercy
Black Star/UDF Mobile Hospital Unit
New Saars/UDF Conflict Zone
Novo Franklin
11th Oct 3079, 0845 Hours Local Time

“Bring him in here!” Doctor Bowes snapped at the orderlies as they carried the softly moaning Lieutenant Hawas into the Triage bay. “Get him into the burn unit, STAT!”

Captain Zahir was ignored as he trailed along behind the stretcher, following his comrade deeper into the shelter of the hospital. As he walked along, he was struck by the contrast between the relatively modern equipment and ultra-clean facility operated by the so-called “Low-end scum” Black Stars, and the filthy, primitive hospitals that the New Saars forces relied upon to treat its people.

Once the procession arrived at its destination, a room of gleaming stainless steel and polished plastic, Captain Zahir was unceremoniously pushed to the side and told to stay out of the way by a scowling nurse less than half his size.

A glance over at the unsmiling infantry trooper that had attached himself to the group and kept a close eye on him, told Medhi that objecting at this time might not be the best idea.

Settling in to watch, Medhi could see the medical team swing into action, starting with the flight medic rattling off information to the attending doctor.

“Heart rate ninety-two, BP ninety-five over sixty and stable. He was getting a bit shocky, but he’s had two units of lactated ringers and two milligrams of morphine IV, that seems to have stabilized him for the moment…. Initial assessment is burn trauma with secondary impact injuries. Estimated coverage is forty two percent third degree burns, and forty four percent second degree. Secondary injuries noted are: fractured left Radius and Ulna, Fractured Left Clavicle, three fractured ribs on the left side, and extensive bruising.” The flight medic rattled this information off like a machine, hardly stopping for a breath.

Bowes nodded. “Right, good work, we’ll take it from here.” He turned to one of the nurses. “Is the tank ready?”

“Yes, Doctor.”

<Time/Scene Break>

Medhi sipped at his tea and stared through the observation window at the tank of fluid where Lieutenant Hawas floated. “How is he?” He asked Doctor Bowes in a soft voice. “Will he live?”

After a pause, the tired doctor answered. “Maybe… He has a chance… Better of one than he would have anywhere else on this rock, but only a chance.”

Medhi turned to face Bowes. “What should we expect?”

Bowes ran his fingers through his hair. “Patients with burns as extensive as his… probably about forty percent survive with the right care. And if he does, it’ll be a long, hard road. He can expect a slow recovery, with significant scarring, and a lot of rehab. Your man is in for a lot of pain, for a long time…. we’ll do what we can for that of course, but there are limits to what we can administer.”

Medhi nodded. “Then as with all things, it is in Allah’s hands.” He turned back to the window and gestured at the room. “I am not familiar with this treatment for burns… could you explain?”

Bowes nodded, a small smile coming to his face. “Yes, our newest toy…less than a year old, out of the Magistracy… The biggest problems a burn patient face are body temperature regulation and infection… the gel tank helps with both of those. It’s a hyper-oxygenated fluorocarbon gel, which we keep at ninety eight point six Fahrenheit. The gel is bacteriostatic, and helps keep the tissues oxygenated even when the circulation is somewhat compromised. Keeping the patient immersed in it at a regulated temperature allows us to control his core temp, and allows his body to use less to maintain it. It also has the added secondary benefit of not having any pressure points. That one factor alone eases quite a bit of discomfort and prevents some tissue sloughing during the healing process.”

“How long will he be in the tank?”

Bowes shrugged. “If he’s lucky, and as strong as he looks…. we might be able to think about skin grafts in a couple weeks…. assuming we find a decent donor match. If those go well, he could be out of the tank in six weeks or so. Without the grafts…. probably ten weeks or so.”

Medhi nodded, and then shook his head ruefully. “To be confined within such a box for so long… will not be easy for him.”

“No, I imagine not. We’ll do what we can as far as entertainment. There will be a vid-screen brought in, and a couple of our nurse’s aides will read to the patients from time to time. If he has any special requests, we’ll see what we can do about them.” Bowes rubbed his forehead again. “He should be waking up in an hour or so… I’ll have one of the nurses come get you when he does…. You should get something to eat, maybe catch a short nap yourself.”

“I imagine we could both use that, Doctor.” Medhi spoke without turning away from the window.

Bowes chuckled. “That we could, that we could…. alas, no rest for the wicked. The casualties from this morning are just about to arrive from the forward aid stations, so I’m going to have to leave you for a bit. If you need anything, just ask one of the orderlies.”


Firebase Nova
New Saars/UDF Conflict Zone
Novo Franklin
11th Oct 3079, 0900 Hours Local Time

David climbed quickly up the rope ladder to his Hunchback’s cockpit just as the Black Star’s heavy tanks pulled up into line with the other armour units. The big metal beast was already purring along at minimal power, just waiting for David to take control.

As he sat down and pulled his neuro-helmet in position, he glanced at the tactical feed from the command bunker.

“Looking good.” He thought to himself. “They’re just about inside the perimeter… maybe another five minutes….”

<Scene Break>

It was with no small amount of relief that the first wave of surviving infantry troopers reached the outer wall of the Firebase. Even though they knew they would likely face stiff resistance inside, and that a hard fight remained, at least they were out of that damned gauntlet!

Several of them tossed grenades into the bunkers through firing and observation slits, quickly ducking back to avoid any shrapnel.

Further down the line, two platoons of troopers moved aside to allow a Hetzer to trundle up closer and knock several large holes in the concrete and sandbag walls for them to enter through.

In other locations, satchel charges created the access ways. But no matter how the holes were made, the next actions were identical.

Terrified infantry troopers dived for the holes in the walls, leading the way with fixed bayonets and howling screams, shooting at anything they did not recognize as friendly… which in at least three cases included New Saars troopers entering a different access way. Quickly fanning out and spreading deeper into the curiously quiet firebase, the infantry troopers raced to secure any bunkers or other structures they could see.

Gunfire reverberated throughout the base, punctuated by random explosions, as the cautious troopers cleared each room by gunfire and grenade. In some cases they discovered and avoided the booby traps left behind for them and avoided setting them off. Most of the time though, the luckless troopers found them the hard way.

Outside the base, the New Saars armour forces continued to pound the heavy walls of the base, shattering them and creating several ramps from the rubble that would allow them access to the interior of the base.

<Scene Break>

“Finally!” O’Connor exulted. “The Base is ours!... Let’s see them recover from this!” He gloated at his perceived success while he waited for the reports from the lead units to start coming in. He expected resistance of course, but what were serfs for, after all, if not to spend achieving your goals?

“Infantry Command, Report.” He snapped into the microphone. “Armour command, get your asses moving forward! I want that base in my hands twenty minutes ago!”

The New Saars armour units started forward as O’Connor could hear his radio crackle to life.

“Task Force Command, this is Dog Battalion Command… we are inside the base and proceeding with takeover… the base appears to be abandoned! ZERO enemy personnel sighted! Multiple booby traps found, casualties at fifteen percent and climbing, we expect total base control momentarily…”

“Damnit!!” O’Connor howled his rage. “Those bastards got away again!” He slammed his fist against his cockpit wall. “What does it take to get them to fight like real men!?”

As Roger raged and frothed in his cockpit, sputtering threats and insults towards the Black Stars, he failed to notice when something changed.

From five separate points around the base, billowing white clouds of vapour arose in the slightly chilly morning air. Those troopers who happened to be near each location could hear a curious whistling hiss as the clouds expanded rapidly.

One of the infantry officers began to panic, seeing the clouds, until he noticed one of his troopers standing within the vapours unharmed, his fears of poison gas were apparently unfounded.

It would remain forever unknown what the majority of the New Saars troopers thought of the strange sight, as their thoughts, as well as most of their bodies were wiped away in an instant by the detonations that ripped through the base a few seconds later.

The five plumes of cloudy vapour were revealed to be yet another deadly gift for the invaders when they simultaneously ignited and exploded, causing immense blast waves to ripple across the shattered base.

<Scene Break>

“That’s it! Crank ‘em up!” David snapped out the command over the com-link.

All around the rally point, idling ‘Mechs and vehicles throttled up and prepared to move.

Two groups set out at a determined pace… It was time to draw the curtain on this battle.

The larger group took a more direct route, moving at a deliberate pace. This was the group containing the Conventional armour, the infantry, and Jessica in her Commando doing support duty. David thought she’d be more useful in that role, supporting the tanks and herding the enemy with her inferno loaded SRM’s, than she would be trying to engage ‘Mechs that mostly outranged her badly.

The other, smaller group, consisted of only three units. David in his Hunchback, Zhao in the Spector, and Nikita in the Talon. These three ‘Mechs moved faster along a more circuitous route. While the UDF swept the field of the enemy conventional forces, these three would strike at the snake’s head.


Firebase Nova
New Saars/UDF Conflict Zone
Novo Franklin
11th Oct 3079, 0915 Hours Local Time

It was like a scene from an epic war holovid - tanks thundering across charred and burnt open landscape leading a much larger collection of APCs and assorted vehicles towards faraway enemy positions. A romantic, especially if he or she hailed from the New Saars faction might pray for the shift in scene shot to show entrenched New Saars forces priming their weapons and taking aim at the incoming UDF forces.

The main difference in this particular instance was that the New Saars forces, including the shattered remains of a few mercenary 'Mechs had just been devastated by massive chains of explosions. Rather than turning around and facing their enemies, the New Saars units were counting their numbers and milling around in chaos - and in many cases, in pain.

A few less disciplined UDF units surged ahead of the main forces. Fortunately for them, the New Saars forces and mercenary 'Mechs were too preoccupied with other issues in hand. One of the merc machines, a Shadow Hawk did notice the large force of incoming enemy and managed to fire off a shot from its light autocannon and long range missiles. Travelling at break neck speed, one of the UDF all terrain vehicles flipped onto its back even though it was not even hit by any of the enemy mercenary's fire. Instead, the explosion of a near hit by one of the LRMs had easily thrown the light weight vehicle into the air. Another truck however, exploded in a fiery death as the shells from the Shadow Hawk's Armstrong J11 Autocannon stitched a deadly line across its bonnet and cabin.

"Keep in formation!" One of the UDF commanders screamed into the tactical comms. Caught up in the adrenaline in their blood, a few of the vehicles continued to peel away from the UDF/ Black Star pack. "God damnit! KEEP IN FORMATION!!"

Within the hull of the Black Star Morningstar CCV, Brandon Cross grimaced as another blue dot disappeared from his sensors. "Tha' droppin' like flies." He remarked as more and more New Saars units finally turned around and started to actually fire at the approaching UDF.

"They wouldn't be if they stuck to the group." Louie managed through gritted teeth. "Charging out there alone would only make it that much easier for the enemy to pick them apart one at a time."

Frederick shrugged as the Morningstar gunner constantly adjusted the aim of turret mounted Mydron Excel Autocannon. "Still, they ARE distracting the New Saars forces by their recklessness. Too bad recklessness means death in most of the cases."

A green light flashed on X's console. The UDF advance had moved into weapons range. He flashed Frederick a thumbs up. "Go git 'em boy o."

------

Zi Long reigned back his charging metallic steed slightly even though he was dashing through mostly level ground. It was not that the SPR-5F Spector was not capable of greater speed. Far from it, the Black Stars officer was moving it at sixty percent of its maximum ground speed. Beside him, Nikita was similarly keeping pace at a rather leisurely pace in her Talon. The reason for their slower advance was the heaviest 'Mech within the small Black Star force - David Ten-Bears in his fifty ton Hunchback.

Like the very first models that had strode into the Succession War battlefields, the HBK-6D variant of the venerable design had only a top speed of sixty four and a half kilometres per hour, and not capable of jump jets. Unlike its ancient ancestors, this particular model produced by Achernar BattleMechs on New Avalon was armed not with a massive heavy assault autocannon, but rather a Mydron Tornado Rotary Autocannon and a Holly SRM 4. Lending further firepower were a trio of Bright-Bloom extended range medium lasers. The package allowed the 6D to still dish out massive amounts of damage at close range, but more importantly allowed it to engage enemies at long range as well.

Compared with the ER PPC armed Talon and David's Hunchback, the Spector that Zi Long piloted was much shorter ranged, with the right arm mounted Nightwind large laser only able to reach out to a maximum range of four hundred and fifty meters. However, what set the Spector apart was its Norse Guardian Electronics Counter Measure Suite mixed with radar-absorbing armour plate with heat baffles reduces the signature of the thirty five ton Spector light 'Mech far below the norm, but is still a far cry from the original Light Polarization Shield and the more advanced baffles the original vintage machine carry. However, the HildCo Model 11c jump jets that gave the machine a two hundred and ten meter jump capability with even the reduced capabilities meant that Zi Long could still perform the same role that the old Star League had tasked the Spector to carry out, especially against sub par opponents like New Saars - that of a hunter-killer.

Like the forces now facing the bulk of the UDF forces and the vehicular detachment of the Black Stars, the main New Saar Militia were similarly mired in confusion and devastation amongst the booby traps and explosion that just claimed a massive portion of their strength. The trio of Black Stars 'Mechs were banking on the approach of the main UDF forces and the confusion of the recently triggered trap to distract the New Saars forces enough for them to approach their positions and take out the until now relatively untouched New Saars BattleMechs.

"Ignore targets of opportunity." Zi Long reminded the other two Black Stars MechWarrior with him. "Use mobility and cover to overcome their numbers. Concentrate fire on their lighter machines first." David and Nikita responded with short affirmatives immediately. They had gone through a broad plan already, and all three had agreed on the course of action. The first reason for hitting at the lighter enemy units was because these had the most anti-conventional and close range weapons among the New Saars 'Mechs. The second was that they would want to spook the New Saars Militia by taking down several of them quickly to spread panic and fear - and what better way to reduce their numbers than to take out their lightly armoured Firestarter, Javelin and Stinger? The quick removal of these would also leave the New Saars 'Mechs with the Archer and Blackjack, both machines with notorious weakness at close range knife fighting due to having long range missile launchers and light autocannons as their main weapons.

Despite the relatively slow speed of the Hunchback, the trio of Black Stars BattleMechs rapidly flanked around the main UDF forces, skirting along the severely perimeters of the Firebase and soon had their targets in sensor range. Burnt and broken carcasses of enemy soldiers and vehicles sprawled not only within the shattered Firebase, but some over a hundred meters from the former UDF stronghold - a testament to the power of the explosion.

"All weapons hot!" Zi Long snarled into his comms. "Time to hunt!"


Firebase Nova
New Saars/UDF Conflict Zone
Novo Franklin
11th Oct 3079, 0920 Hours Local Time

As the UDF and Black Star forces closed the distance between them, it became very apparent which armour tactics that would be employed by the mercenary forces.

While lighter, faster units like the Silver Sabers favoured the slashing attacks and highly mobile warfare of the Light Cavalry style, the Black Stars were apparently devotees of a different form altogether…. that of the Steel Hammer.

Advancing in a loose star pattern, the ‘Star’s Zhukov led the way, flanked on either side by their two Po heavy tanks. Bringing up the rear, on bodyguard and clean up duty, the unit’s Morningstar and “borrowed” SRM carrier trundled along watching for targets.

As the UDF and ‘Star forces moved to engage, an observer looking down from above would be able to see a pattern emerging very early on in the engagement.

Like a giant door, the line of armoured vehicles swung in a huge arc, with one end almost stationary and the other swinging like the head of a hammer…. or giant reaper’s hook.

Pushing forward, the Black Star tanks ignored the incoming fire which sparked off the front armour plates of the Zhukov and one of the Po’s. The class two and five auto-cannons that the New Saars forces used for their converted weapons carriers were only a minor threat to such heavily armoured beasts.

In return, as they pulled into range, the three heavy tanks that lead the way, responded with accurate fire from cannons at least twice as heavy as anything the New Saars force possessed…. against armour less than a third as thick.

In mere seconds, three enemy vehicles were burning and a huge gap opened along one of the flanks.

Without changing pace, the Black Star force advanced methodically along its planned course, pushing their New Saars opponents before them.

Further down the line of advance, New Saars and UDF vehicles traded fire, with casualties resulting on both sides. On another day, the exchange might have been more even. This day however, it was not to be. The UDF vehicles, while technologically no better than their New Saars counterparts, were being operated by fresh troops in good spirits. The New Saars armour crews on the other hand, were exhausted from their long morning, and their morale shattered by successive losses.

Almost before the battle began, the invader’s vehicles began to backpedal, trying to avoid the advancing UDF. Unfortunately for them, this shoved them up against the remaining defences of the shattered Firebase Nova.

Passing through a minefield unharmed IS possible. To do it though, a force requires luck, knowledge of clear paths, or the ability to deactivate or command-detonate mines so as to clear the way. The New Saars forces had none of these.

The few surviving mercenary ‘Mechs that charged in to assist the New Saars forces quickly found themselves in a very bad position. Confronted by a large force of organized armour, restricted mobility, and “Allies” that were more hindrance than help.

<Scene Break>

David grinned savagely as he finally broke free of the woods and gained visual contact with his targets.

O’Connor’s ‘Mechs were clustered ahead in a clearing, moving forward to engage the UDF and Black Star armour. Between the confusion ahead, and the jamming that Zhao’s Morningstar was putting out, it didn’t appear that they were even aware that they’d been flanked…. that would soon change.

David broke to his left, moving to a good firing position to the right rear of O’Connor’s force of ‘Mechs.

Selecting the enemy Stinger for his initial target, David carefully lined up his shot.

To either side, he could see Zhao and Nikita lining up on the Javelin.

Letting out a long breath, he gently squeezed the trigger.


Firebase Nova
New Saars/UDF Conflict Zone
Novo Franklin
11th Oct 3079, 0923 Hours Local Time

The RAC on David’s Hunchback roared out a volley of explosive shells as he held the trigger all the way down. At the same time, a trio of ER-Medium lasers also reached out to carry a message of pain and destruction.

Downrange, the hapless Stinger that he had selected as his initial target could do nothing but try to endure the damage coming his way so unexpectedly.

A larger, more heavily armoured unit might have been able to withstand the barrage of shot and beam… alas for the Stinger pilot, his ‘Mech was not so blessed with armour or size.

The Rotary auto-cannon fired on maximum rate is a fearsome tool for destroying enemy units, with a justifiable reputation for shredding armour and shattering steel. So it proved once more, as the cannon’s shells struck the Stinger’s right leg and walked their trail of destruction up the limb and onto the torso of the ‘Mech, lingering there for a long moment, before the horrendous recoil of the big weapon caused the remaining rounds to miss and fly high above the target.

Following instantly, the three laser beams that David had also fired finished the job that the cannon had started. One of the beams missed, scorching dirt and grass just in front of the staggering ‘Mech, but the other two struck cleanly, melting through metal and ceramic composites like they were composed of nothing but butter. Following up on the damage that the Cannon had caused, the lasers neatly removed the ‘Mech’s right leg and destroyed the remaining structure in the light war machine’s torso .

As the shattered ‘Mech fell, David could see the enemy Javelin receiving similar treatment from Zhao and Nikita, the unfortunate ‘Mech disappearing in a fireball of exploding ammunition as one or the other of the two Black Stars found their mark.

Now finally aware of the Black Star ‘Mech’s presence, O’Connor’s remaining unit began to wheel around as fast as they could to confront the new threat.

<Scene break>

Glen could see Jessica, the local pilot they’d recruited, move to engage the enemy Wasp as it tried to jump behind the UDF lines.

Further down, he could see the Shadow Hawk stagger as at least eight UDF armoured vehicles all decided at once to deal with him as a primary threat.

The enemy Phoenix Hawk had made the mistake of trying to jump the other end of the line and discovered where the UDF Partisan was operating… the hard way. A system designed to deal with supersonic aerospace fighters had found the mercenary ‘Mech a very simple target indeed. It had come down hard, in a cloud of dust and screeching metal. Glen could no longer see it, so he had no idea if it was finished yet, but it HAD to be hurt bad.

Glen grinned, these locals might never be worth a quarter of a freebirth Clanner, but they COULD be taught a few things.

Keying his lip mike, Glen began to give orders. “Alpha lance, target: Valkyrie… FIRE!”

Once again the heavy cannons of the Black Stars roared their defiance. This time smashing the unlucky mercenary unit to the ground with a pair of hits to the centre torso.

It fell hard and stayed down, huge amounts of waste heat pouring out of massive rents in the outer armour.

In return, an enemy Locust sent a pack of unguided rockets back at the Black Star formation, following it up with a medium laser blast.

The laser fell short, being just out of range for accurate targeting, but just over half of the rockets slammed into the side of the Zhukov, failing to breach the armour, but managing to break one of the heavy tracks that propelled it.

Inside the tank, as it lurched to a halt, Glen cursed and wiped blood from his eyes. The impact of the rockets had thrown him around the turret like dice in a cup, and he’d acquired a shallow cut on his forehead.

“So, the Stravag scum wants my attention? Well, he has it now!... Target: Locust! FIRE!”


Firebase Nova
New Saars/UDF Conflict Zone
Novo Franklin
11th Oct 3079, 0925 Hours Local Time

"There she blows!" Frederick crowed as another of the enemy's lightly armoured vehicle blew up spectacularly from a hit from his Mydron Excel autocannon. With the heavier armoured Zhukov and Pos leading the UDF and Black Stars charge, the Morningstar had so far not been targeted nor hit by any enemy return fire. Fortunately, the amount of return fire that DID hit the Black Stars combat vehicles seemed not to be able to even slow down their headlong attack.

That was until the enemy Locust unleashed a cloud of dumb fire rockets that blasted one of the tracks of the Zhukov. The heavy dual autocannon tank lurched uncontrollably before coming to rest amidst a cloud of dust and smoke. It was immobile, but definitely not out.

"Target: Locust! FIRE!”

Responding to Glen's shout, Frederick realigned the turret and pointed his cannon at the offending light 'Mech. "Eat lead and die!"

------

Luca whopped in insane glee as his rockets smashed into the side of the massive enemy tank, blowing its steel treads and bringing it to a halt. However, that victory, coupled with the earlier fighting on Jurong Hill meant that he was now reduced to only a two shots left out of his quad of rocket launchers, and his old school medium laser. "Bloody hell, if I kin take out a tank, I kin take on anyone!" He screamed as he shifted his machine in an attempt to target another of the enemy vehicles.

The mine which he stepped on not only mangled much of the leg armour of the twenty ton Locust, it also caused the light 'Mech to stumble. Whether by pure dumb luck or unbelievable skill, Luca managed to keep his machine upright. The sudden movement, unintended as it was, probably saved Luca's life as a salvo of autocannon slugs fired from an enemy wheeled Morningstar missed his cockpit by less than three feet.

"Da gods are watchin' over me ass today bitches!" He screeched into the comms. "Ain't no one gonna hurt Luca today!"

------

"God damn piece of shit!" Frederick cursed as his shots flashed just wide of the Locust. He had thought that even though his shot had missed, stepping onto a mine would spell the end of the most manufactured 'Mech in Inner Sphere history.

He did not have the chance to track the mercenary machine again as a pair of support PPC armed enemy truck concentrated their fire on the sixty ton vehicle. While unable to penetrate the armour of the wheeled tank, they did manage to rock the Sharp Shooter combat vehicle. Given time, even drops of water can punch through the hardest rock - and there were MANY of such lightly armed enemy vehicles.

"Take out those trucks!" Louie shouted at her gunner.

Reluctantly, Frederick turned his attention and anger towards the new targets. "You wanna play? Take THIS!"

------

Zi Long ignited the jump jets on his Spector as both the enemy Javelin and Stinger were destroyed. With David and Nikita approaching the New Saars 'Mechs in one direction, Zi Long's Spector threatened to flank them by going in a different direction. The enemies had to now decide whether to concentrate on the Hunchback and Talon, thus leaving their sides and rear open to the Spector's attack, or focus on Zi Long and run the risk of having the heavy hitting HBK and TLN close in even further and smash into them.

The remaining New Saars 'Mech forces decided on neither. The Firestarter and O' Connor's Archer turned towards David and Nikita, while the Blackjack started to back pedal so that it could maintain optimum fire range for its pair of Whirlwind-L light autocannons and four medium lasers. Despite the tricky manoeuvre it was undertaking and Zi Long's haphazard flight, the Blackjack hit with one of its medium lasers as well as one of the autocannons. Sheets of molten steel rained from the right chest and leg of the Spector. However, the thirty five ton light 'Mech was not regarded as one of the premium BattleMechs in the SLDF arsenal for nothing. Other than its sophisticated Guardian ECM suite, radar-absorbing armour plate with heat baffles, above average speed and manoeuvrability, as well as considerable weapons at its disposal, the Spector had been as heavily armoured as possible for its weight class by its designers.

In mid flight, Zi Long triggered the right arm mounted Nightwind large laser followed by the pair of medium lasers mounted on his left arm. One of the medium lasers missed, but the other slashed an ugly scar on the Blackjack's left shoulder. The large laser than proceeded to burn another deep wound into the right arm of the forty five ton machine.

The New Saars pilot stopped its retreat as it tried to stabilize itself. For a while, it looked like losing nearly a full ton of armour to enemy fire while executing a back pedal would overwhelm the gyro of the Blackjack. Zi Long nodded slightly at the skill of the pilot as the medium 'Mech finally righted itself.

However, the seconds that it took for the enemy 'Mech to save itself from a fall allow Zi Long to land unmolested before sprinting at full speed behind the enemy 'Mechs. Zi Long grinned. The heat scale of the Spector had remained a very cool green despite given a workout by its pilot.

As David in his Hunchback and Nikita in her Talon readied themselves for the next round of fire with the enemy, the Black Stars Captain and hooked behind the rear of the Firestarter and the Archer.


Clementi Forest
New Saars/UDF Conflict Zone
Novo Franklin
11th Oct 3079, 0830 Hours Local Time

“Dang it, I tol’ ya not to drive through there!”

“Quit ya gripin’ Frank, and just keep diggin’. This place creeps me out.”

The two grumbling men, armed with shovels, were attacking the mud around a nearly buried wheel at the front of a cobbled together gun carrier. The vehicle looked like a tractor that had had a light autocannon strapped to the top and a few plates of armour hurriedly welded to the front and sides. The machine was on a decided forward angle, as the front wheels were deep in the mud, and the rear wheels had churned up the forest floor as the driver had attempted to extricate the vehicle from the bog.

Seven similarly clad men were variously digging at the other wheels or dragging branches back to stuff under the rear drive tyres of the stuck machine. All were less than enthusiastic about the task at hand, the sound of explosions in the distance reminding them of just what they were supposed to be heading into. Without an officer to push them along, the squad leader was more than happy to dawdle behind the main force, while the vehicle ops knew that they were simply a bigger target. No, they were more than happy to have gotten stuck, despite the whining.

A noise to the front of the machine caused them all to start, and six rifles (all of varying makes) were pointed in that general direction, and held in very nervous hands, as a man approached with his hands in the air and a pronounced limp.

“Hold ya fire, I’m on yer side!”

The squad leader, who would be a sergeant in anybody else’s army, nodded at two of his underlings, who immediately ran over to search the newcomer. He was dressed oddly, in shorts, combat boots and a heavy looking jacket with two short tubes hanging out one side. Under one arm he held a bulky helmet with plugs in the back, while the other hand had held an autopistol until the two soldiers had relieved him of it. The sergeant looked over the pistol before shoving it into his belt.

“Who are you?” the sergeant asked gruffly.

“The names Jamis, I’m a ‘Merc MechWarrior. My Panther got taken out and I’ve been stuck in a tree for the last hour…”

“What the hell was yeh doin’ in a tree?”

Jamis rolled his eyes, “If ye’ll let me finish, I had to bail from mah ‘Mech and the parachute came down in a tree. No one came to help me down so I ‘ad to ‘ventually cut the straps, ‘at’s how I got this limp.”

The sergeant eyed the newcomer suspiciously, “’Ow do I know you ain’t workin’ for them Black Stars?”

“Do ya think I’d j’st walk up to ya if’n I was?” Jamis demanded.

This though caused the sergeant to pause for thought, he wasn’t the sharpest tool in the shed, having been chosen for the position by a combination of luck, not all good, and following orders.

“Not buying it. Frank, Kramer, tie him up and toss him on the back.”

“Hey you can’t!... Ooof” the argument was cut short by a fist to the stomach. This just wasn’t Jamis’ day apparently, as he was trussed up and roughly tossed onto a platform on the back of the gun carrier.

“BACK TO WORK!”

“We’s is done boss.”

“Huh?”

Frank pointed at the machine’s wheels, “I think we got it out.”

“Err, ok… let’s go then.”

“Do we have to boss?” It was meant to be an offhand comment, but all the troops stopped and looked questioningly at the sergeant, who looked to be considering the proposition before shaking his head, apparently to clear it.

“Naw, move out, we gotta war to win.”

“Win for who boss? Not gonna change nuthin’ for us.”

“It might for me if I get a stake up my ass, now move it!”

With the squad lined up behind it to push, the tractor billowed smoke as the engine struggled and the wheels finally managed to find purchase. The vehicle lurched forward clear of the mud hole, though there was no cheering as the soldiers considered what they were about to face. It didn’t really matter in the end, none of them would make it to the main battlefield.

“Good work, for… errkk,” the sergeant clutched at his chest, where a large, black hole had appeared.

The rest of the squad looked on in confusion and shock. It didn’t last long, well that is to say they didn’t last long. A succession of laser fire quickly dropped the remaining eight men, including the driver who slumped over the wheel of his machine, the cobbled together vehicle didn’t even have a bare minimum of cover across the back.

A few seconds after the laser fire started, it was over. A full minute passed before there was any further movement, then three lightly armoured and camouflaged troopers approached, rifles up and ready for further action. Two figures circled the now idling gun carrier while the third climbed up the back to where Jamis lay bound.

“Hello again.”

Jamis looked up at the man standing over him, “Again?”

“Yeah. Nice move by the way, but you only took out one of my guys with that ejection stunt.”

The look of resignation that formed on Jamis’ face was reminiscent of the one he had worn when he pulled the big yellow handle.

“Ya gonna kill me?” Jamis asked.

“Nope, not yet anyway. No point since you are already tied up. Just don’t go anywhere now ya hear.”

The bound man chuckled, feeling marginally safer, “No problem there.”

“Area clear Lantern. What are we going to do with this heap of crap?” a female voice drifted up as a set of knuckles wrapped on armour plate.

Markus stood up and leaned over the side.

“Remedy, do you think you could hit anything with that cannon?”

The mentioned trooper clambered up over the engine bay and settled into the gunner chair.

“Not exactly high tech, might waste a few rounds to get my eye in. You serious about this?”

Markus shrugged, “I’m getting bored.”

“Me too,” Luna chimed in, “Can I drive?”

Both Markus and Henry rolled their eyes at that request, though neither did so where it would be seen.

“Of course, I’ll take point. Remedy, lock and load!”

Stepping forward over the cab, Markus leapt lightly to the ground and quickly advanced. At around five hundred metres he gave the signal for Luna to advance. It didn’t take long to reach the edge of the forest, and despite knowing the plan he was still surprised at the carnage. He could see. The UDF retreat had been completed, and now the counterattack was on. It was time for the Jack o’ Lanterns to add their part to the fun.

“Roll up here Luna. Remedy, fire at will.”

“Roger, wilco! Like shooting fish in a barrel.”

Remedy had already fired his first shot before Luna had even applied the brakes. The shell ploughed up a furrow of dirt low and to the left of the target, a tractor much like the one the Jack o’ Lanterns had commandeered.

“Frak! Stupid sight is way off, how about… this!”

The second shot was true, and the target exploded in a fireball. That was followed by a second and a third. The fourth target survived, courtesy of having turned its frontal armour to the new threat. It didn’t survive a second shot. By the time Remedy was lining up for a sixth shot three more gun carriers had peeled off toward the forest and opened fire, all missing high.

“Aahh, Lantern?”

“I’m getting tired of this. Ok, lets split.”

“What about him?” Luna asked, referring to Jamis as she leaped down from the driver’s seat.

Markus flashed her a toothy, wolfish grin, “Ain’t friendly fire a bitch?”


Firebase Nova
New Saars/UDF Conflict Zone
Novo Franklin
11th Oct 3079, 0926 Hours Local Time

David cursed as he ducked his Hunchback out of the way of the incoming missiles. He managed to avoid being hit by the cloud of explosive projectiles, but in doing so, he also ruined his own shot in return and the short burst he’d sent at the enemy Archer flew over the enemy ‘Mech’s head.

Quickly reversing course, David drove his ‘Mech closer to his larger foe, trying to get in under its minimum range limits.

Once again the two metal war machines traded fire. This time both connected…

Metal and ceramic plates shattered on both ‘Mechs as explosives and energy beams vented their fury.

David fought hard to keep his ‘Mech upright when two dozen missiles blasted into it all across its surface. As his ‘Mech staggered out of the cloud of smoke and shrapnel, he was relieved to see on his displays that his armour had not yet been breached. Thinned, yes… but not ruptured.

In return, David’s Rotary Auto-cannon sent a half-rate burst back at the bigger ‘Mech, followed by a trio of eye searing laser beams. The impact from the shots also caused the enemy Archer to stagger and fight to compensate for the impacts and loss of armour, but it likewise stayed standing.

David pressed his attack forward, tracking his prey with his targeting reticule. As he advanced, his foe back pedalled desperately, trying to avoid close combat. David grinned, if he could only get closer, the advantage would shift dramatically.

Nearby, he noticed Zhao and Nikita finish dissecting their latest target, the Firestarter. The light ‘Mech had not been able to stand up to their combined firepower and was now a burning heap of metal instead of a fearsome tool of war. From the intensity of the flames, David figured that one of their shots had probably ruptured the incendiary ‘Mech’s flamer fuel reserves.

<Scene Shift>

“Run ya bastards!” Luca snarled as he stomped his Locust’s birdlike feet down on a cluster of helpless infantry. He wasn’t really sure which side they were really on at this point, but they’d fired at him, so that was enough. “Can’t hurt Luca, ya punks! I’m hot today!”

Spinning his ‘Mech in place, he sent a blast of laser fire out to roast a tiny ATV that had tried to get around to his rear and spray him with machine gun fire. “None of that now! No-one gets ME in the ass!”

Luca roared his defiance and laughter as he prepared to push on, looking for more weak targets. He was still laughing when a long ranged shot from one of the Black Star Po’s slammed into his ride, shattering the light ‘Mech’s arm actuators and detonating the remaining rockets in the pack on that side.

When he awoke, blood was dripping down off his face and he couldn’t see out of his right eye. Smoke filled the cockpit, and his right arm appeared broken.

From outside the cockpit, he could hear people trying to get the access hatch open.

<Scene Shift>

“Target: Vedette… Fire!” Glen called into his lip mike.

As the Zhukov’s heavy auto-cannons fired once more, sending yet more destruction downrange, several of the UDF’s light vehicles joined in, and together they gutted the unfortunate Vedette that had attempted to close the distance to the UDF lines.

Further down, Glen could see Jessica in her Commando moving fast and dispensing death all the way. Wherever she moved her ‘Mech, flames erupted. Loading her bins with inferno rounds was a risky move, but the incendiaries couldn’t be beaten for destroying the enemy’s will to fight.

UDF and New Saars vehicles traded fire all along the front lines, with the UDF getting slightly better of the exchange. The recent decimations and long training hours of the UDF were paying dividends. Though the New Saars forces were still barely more numerous than the UDF vehicles, the gap was closing fast as whole lances of UDF armoured vehicles were combining fire, magnifying their effectiveness. The New Saars forces, on the other hand, were starting to panic, spraying rounds indiscriminately and largely ineffectively. Some of them even engaged other vehicles on their own side due to the mass confusion on the field.


Firebase Nova
New Saars/UDF Conflict Zone
Novo Franklin
11th Oct 3079, 0928 Hours Local Time

In warfare, as in comedy, timing is everything. For every action there is a proper time. At the right time and place, the smallest action can set things in motion that even the strongest enemy may not stop. But in the wrong place, an action taken out of step may spell defeat or worse. Which is why David was measuring his time with great care.

As Zhao turned away from the wreckage of the Firestarter to help him deal with the Archer, and Nikita moved away, chasing after the Blackjack, David exchanged fire with his foe once more.

Armour shattered on both ‘Mechs as explosive projectiles flew back and forth. David’s Hunchback staggered back as one of his hip actuators locked up.

Alarms blared inside David’s cockpit as red lights flashed on his display, noting breaches in his ‘Mech’s armour.

Across the field of battle, David could see his foe falling back as his auto-cannon’s shells tracked up the bigger ‘Mech’s chest and across the cockpit canopy.

Grinning like a shark, David slapped a certain button on his console, triggering a pre-recorded message.

When Sparky and Zhao’s man Brandon had come to him with the idea, he had had some doubts, but he’d decided to keep it prepped just in case the situation warranted a try.

Broadcast over open channels, the message blasted out full force. David having the jamming key, allowed him to send the message despite the ECM that the unit’s Morningstar was putting out.

“This is O’Connor. Withdraw immediately! All forces pull back to base double time! Now Damnit!” This was followed by a string of obscenities.

David smiled, he had no idea how many old recordings and black box tapes the two electronics wizards had sifted through to splice that tape together, but anyone not in the know would swear blind that the man was giving the orders.

<Scene Shift>

With more time to think, it is likely that some of the New Saars officers would have questioned the orders. Why would they be broadcast in the clear, over an open channel? How did they get past the jamming? These questions would sadly go unanswered.

Reacting as they had been conditioned to do, the units with working radios began immediately to withdraw from the battle as fast as they could. This not only served to shatter any semblance of organization they had managed to put together, it also left several units who had not received the message behind to face the wrath of the UDF and Black Star armour alone.

Surviving New Saars infantry troopers that were able, tried desperately to scramble aboard the departing vehicles rather than be left behind. Unfortunately, since most of the moving vehicles were neither designed for passengers, nor were they slowing to allow the infantrymen to board safely, several men were driven over, and killed by their own armour.

As the UDF and Black Stars began to methodically select targets from the retreating column and destroy them, the ragged retreat rapidly became a rout, with each vehicle crew trying desperately to survive regardless of their comrades.

At least two collisions occurred, and several more hapless infantry were ground under the treads as panicking drivers sought any clear path away from the battle.

Once again, the minefields took their toll, breaking treads and rupturing armour plates. The fortunate were able to continue despite the damage…. the unlucky were not.

As tanks and assault guns were immobilized they were quickly taken under fire by the gleeful UDF armour crews. Stationary targets with guns pointed the other way? JUST the sorts of enemies they liked!

Clementi Forest
New Saars/UDF Conflict Zone
Novo Franklin
11th Oct 3079, 0930 Hours Local Time

Can this day get any worse?

To say that Jamis was in some pain was a bit of an understatement. To be more precise, to say that it was a miracle he was still breathing was even more of an understatement. After having lost his ‘Mech and being taken captive by his own team, only to have his captors taken out leaving him in the hand of the enemy, he had then discovered that the enemy didn’t even want him as a prisoner, which left him tied up in a vehicle and back in the unusual situation of having his own side shoot at him again. If not for the pain he would have thought the whole thing a bad dream, or more accurately in Jamis’ case a bad trip. The users of the cheaper recreational substances still had those, even in the 31st century.

The last thing that Jamis remembered was lying in the back of the makeshift gun carrier as it was pelted with shells from the Firebase Nova battlefield. He should have been dead, of that he was certain. When one of the shells had finally hit something vital on the now stationary and unmanned (except for Jamis) vehicle, the explosion had sent the hapless ‘Mech pilot flying through the air. It was possible the only advantage to having an exposed rear, with nothing to contain the explosion he had made a miraculous escape. Of course, escape was a relative term as he was still tied up and lying at the base of the tree that had interrupted his short flight, breaking multiple bones. The bones were the source of most of the pain, along with a few burns that were milder than they had any right to be given the state of the machine whose immolation had caused them.

“Now what?” Jamis groaned out loud.

The source of the comment was a snapping noise, followed by a shuffling through the underbrush. Jamis attempted to rollover to see in that direction, causing waves of pain and nausea to sweep through him, very nearly passing out again in the process. The noise came closer, and he managed to twist his head far enough to see the source of the commotion.

No, no, no you have got to be kidding me!

Just on the edge of Jamis’ vision could be seen a large, four legged silhouette. The beast sniffed the air and growled softly, revealing large, pearly white teeth, and it was looking directly at the immobile man. Jamis started screaming before the creature had even taken its next step, his day having gotten much, much worse…

<Scene break>

“Now what?”

“Now we wait. It is up to the others to carry the day. Depending on what happens next we stay here, gather intel and look for targets of opportunity, just like we have been.”

The three remaining troopers of the Jack O’ Lanterns squad were taking a break, discussing what their options were. They had moved east through the forest, passing across the old dividing line and square inside New Saars’ territory. Exactly where that dividing line sat at the end of the day was entirely uncertain though, and something that Lantern and his squad would help to determine at the end of the day.

Remedy took a swig from his water bottle then wiped the back of his hand across his mouth, “We should probably get some rest then.”

Lantern nodded. The group had been going at it flat out for three days setting up the ambush traps and charting their own course, and had been in the thick of the action for the last few hours.

“Good idea, we’ll find a hide and set up an obs post.”

“I wonder how Vincent is?” Luna asked, somewhat rhetorically.

“He’ll be fine. He’s probably kicking back and doing a very poor job of chatting up a nurse,” Markus answered.

The three of them had a chuckle at that, even though only Markus had known Vincent before the four of them had teamed up for the Fujidera contract, their first under the Black Stars banner.

“Ok, let’s go see what the score is shall we?”

They some thick undergrowth at the edge of the forest and cautiously crawled under it to a position from where they could see that the old Firebase location. The caution was probably unnecessary, no-one on the battlefield had enough time on their hands even for a cursory glance at the tree line, but old habits die hard. A cursory glance across the area brought a smile to Markus’ lips.

Perhaps we won’t be needed after all.

<Scene break>

The eyes fluttered open, then very quickly squeezed shut again as they were assailed by the bright lights of the outside world. The pain caused by the light added to a deeper throbbing from deep behind the eyes, evidence of some misfortune, even if the brain that the pain registered in couldn’t remember the source.

Once again the eyes opened, albeit just to a squint this time, and they quickly scanned the area for threats. It was a habit borne of years of training and operations. Adjusting to the light, and finding no immediate threats, the eyes opened wide and stared directly at a young woman in a military nurse’s outfit.

“Where am I?”

“Oh, welcome back to the land of the living Mister Smith. You are in the UDF field hospital, you took a bump to the head and a nasty fall apparently. You were unconscious when you came in and have been out for a couple of hours.”

“A couple of hours! I have to get back out to my squad, where is my gear?”

Vincent Smith tried to stand up and failed, the throbbing pain changing to a blinding flash at the movement.

“You are not going anywhere Mr,” the nurse said sternly.

“Oh yes I am!” With an effort of will, Vincent swung his legs off the bed and prepared to stand up. That was as far as he got as the nurse quickly stepped forward and put a needle in his arm.

“Not on my watch. Now lay back down, that’s a good boy. I am very busy, I’ll be back in a few more hours when that wears off. Nighty night Mr Smith.”

The sedative quickly took effect, and Vincent realized with a grimace that if he had let a little nurse get the better of him he’d probably be dead in five minutes in the field. It didn’t stop him from swearing incoherently before he faded out altogether.

The nurse rolled her eyes and rearranged the pillows under Vincent’s head.

“Stupid soldiers.”