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Author Topic: Contract 3A - More rumblings from the Deep Periphery (KoN Sup Contract)  (Read 16347 times)

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Vampire

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March 28th, 3080
1610 hours, Local time
SLDF Depot
Oasis V
Bjarred
Draconis Combine

“What the hell is it?” Markus asked, looking at the stubby winged contraption in front of him.

“It’s the last of the salvage we picked up from the Novo Franklin contract. I told you about it remember?” Patrick Fitzgerald replied.

Patrick was the Jack o’ Lanterns one and only tech. He’d been following Markus around for a few years now, escaping the Lyran Alliance at the same time as Markus, just for different reasons. Being the Jack o’ Lanterns only tech was fine when the only gear they had was the Nighthawk Squad and the Protech Intruders, but somehow Markus had managed to obtain another three squads of battle armour plus a couple of vehicles. Thing was, it didn’t really matter that Markus hadn’t hired any more techs, because he hadn’t hired any more personnel to drive the new gear anyway. He was more picky about his crew than some of the other Black Stars sub unit commanders he had noticed.

“The wings are too small, how the hell can it fly?”

Patrick sighed, they’d been over this before, “It doesn’t, it’s a wing in ground effect craft, or “Wiggie”, it is a bit like a hovercraft, just without some of the drawbacks.”

Markus was still sceptical, until Patrick pointed out the fact that it carried two squads of battle armour and could supply said squads for up to a month before needing to resupply. It was almost the ultimate behind the lines craft.

“Ok, I’m convinced, but who are we going to get to fly it?”

Now Patrick was grinning, “You remember those flyboys from the Ice Princess Project?”

“Yannick and co? Yes, I remember them. Wait, don’t tell me…”

“Yep, they’re here and looking for work. I ran into them this morning. They were sent out here to do something for the SLDF and got shafted for one thing or another. They’re due to jump out tomorrow, but it won’t take much to convince them to head our way.” Patrick was looking very pleased with himself. Markus just rolled his eyes.

“Fine, get them over here, but I want a demonstration that they won’t crash this thing with them and us in it first.”

“Sure thing boss.”

Aboard the Drop Ship Event Horizon
Office of the CO of Trouble Inc.
Bjarred System
28th March 3080

James sat there staring at the simulator reports in front of them. He and Eugene had agreed that they would run the new recruits through them. First a basic set, just to prove they have the talent they said they did. All but one squad passed with flying colours. The last two unit's reports showed they could fight. They just weren't great in the manoeuvring section, preferring a stand up and slug it out style of fighting. Based on these sim reports James would have to swap two of the squads . Initial unit assignments around.

Then James closed the folder and opened the second. These showed the sim reports to the new air deployed style that James wanted to use. The first set showed standard deployment from a hovering air deployed standpoint, and they didn't seem to have any trouble with those. The second set of sims in this folder, showed results of a deployment from a full speed Warrior. The results were not very good to say the least. To say they were deplorable was probably a lot better description of the results he was looking at. The best results were showing three suits with crippled legs and a fourth suit destroyed as the best result. The worst result was showing the complete squad lawn darting near the target zone. Not one even getting within the target zone. There was a lot of serious concern about this style that came in the comments from the debriefing after the sim.

Now James and Eugene had to sit down and figure out is it the people that we’re using? Is it the new proposed style they were planning on trying out? Or further still was it the actual simulation itself? Or was it a combination of all of the above? The ship's simulator programs didn't have an exact program to do what they had wanted. So he and Eugene had sat down and tried to cobble one together with the help of sim techs to do what they had wanted. Now that they had run the units through this experimental simulation. So here is where all the feedback they were getting was important. To try to understand what they were saying and what they were really meaning. The fresh military grads were very vocal in describing things, which is all well and good, but with no combat experience to back it up... All they had to base it on was the actual training they had simulated back in war college. The Merc units reports were a little more sparse in details and full of expletives, but after studying them for a couple of hours. James gleamed a few crumbs of light from them. He quickly typed those up and inputted those along with what he thought were the relevant comments from the squads that had run the sims and forwarded it on to Eugene for his comments. He would await the results from that.

In the meantime he needed to get up and get out again, because the paperwork was driving him nuts. He was feeling agitated... antsy. He couldn't place his finger on it, but he knew it wasn't a good feeling. He went down. He was going to leave through one of the cargo bay doors. He stopped on one of the gantries when he noticed a few people working hard trying to pull a large crate inside. He looked again and saw Billy Ray and Bubba Joe, along with Gunther, and even Bremmerhof. He wasn't sure what was up. From his vantage point the crate itself had no markings, well, any markings on the crate, where they should have been seen to be conveniently painted over or ground off. He wasn't really sure if he wanted to know what was in the crate, but at the same time if they were going to be any repercussions he was sure to be called on it and it may not be good not knowing. He started down the stairs into the hold and started crossing to the door. He looked over at the crew and the crate. They had managed to get it up the ramp and halfway across the floor to the back corner where there looked to be a space for it. He raised one eyebrow. He just got his smile from Billy Ray. A little sheepish one. James started down the ramp. Just as Wong and Whitman came up. They spotted the others trying to move the crate. He heard Whitman pipe up "Hey, what you have there?"

"It's a birthday present for Alice." Gunther responded

"I didn't know it was her birthday." Whitman.

"We're not exactly sure when it was but this was one present we couldn't pass up. So we got it now." Billy Ray.

That answer James question without him having to ask. For that he was happy. He continued down the ramp and headed towards one of the bars, surrounding the spaceport.

March 29th, 3080
0023 hours, Local time
Spaceport
Oasis V
Bjarred
Draconis Combine

James had been in the Exhaust Plume Bar for the last three hours. When he first went in, he had ordered a PPC, just to take the edge off. After that he'd just been nursing beers. Apparently a good part of the evening for him was not seeing another face that he'd recognized yet. Either his unit's people hadn't gotten down this far or had found more lively places to visit. James wasn't sure if the name Exhaust Plume aptly described the place. It reeked that's for sure. Of what he just wasn't sure of.

So after about three hours, he decided he'd had enough and needed to go back to his bunk. As he got up to leave a fight started to break out on him. It appeared to be the first one of the evening. So he just started working himself around the edge of it. Keeping himself out of it. It's never a smart idea to get into a bar fight when you don't have to any backup. He was almost out the door when it burst open and a couple more people came in. He stood to one side and let them through then slipped out the door onto the street.

He wasn't exactly sure what time it was. He figured sometime after 11pm and before sunrise. He started working his way back down the street towards the DropShip at the spaceport. He saw plenty of people out there tonight having a great time working their way around. There had been at least a couple of groups that were bar hopping and weren't done yet. A small shadow caught his eye. He turned his head to get a better look. He saw a person getting mugged in the alley way, across from him by two people. He could see the unit patch of the guy getting mugged. It wasn't a Black Star nor was it Black Stars doing the mugging so he wasn't concerned and continued on his way.

A little bit further down the street and James found his path was blocked. The L.E.O.'s had blocked one street around a bar. There was a paramedic crew and ambulance there as well. Somebody there wasn't having a good night, morning or whatever it was. James thought he would just work his way around it. So he cut through a side alley. He made it through the alley without any trouble and had just turned onto the street . When somebody rushed by him into the alley and disgorged whatever had been in his stomach. James still had several blocks to go before he'd be able to reach the spaceport and then the DropShip.

He had only managed to walk another block when he had to stop short as a half dozen people burst out of the door of one of the bars there into the street. James got a glimpse of four bouncer types that seemed to have been the driving force behind the people being expelled the out of the building. The people that had been expelled had gotten up and instead of brushing themselves off and moving on they started slugging it out amongst themselves. Apparently they had had an argument inside and had just decided to continue to carry it on outside in the street. The only difference was, it was a four on two and the two didn't look like they were going to do very well against those four. This time though James had to stop and take a pause, because those two were Black Stars. They were definitely infantry types by the way they were dressed. The look on one or two of the faces said it was more likely the continuation of a fight that had started inside. Now it was starting to get real heated.

Unlike James first opinion, those two Black Stars were acquitting themselves pretty well against the four giving back in equal measure what they were taking. That was until someone whipped out that chain. The chain was swung for the head and not the body or limb. Luckily that swing missed. That chain was what prompted James to action. James stepped up to one of the four. The man had just been thrown down to the ground and was just starting to get back up when James laid a solid kick from his left leg, placing a shin right up against the side of the guys jaw. The guy flipped over and laid on his back unmoving. James didn't consider himself a great fighter in any way shape or form. Anyone watching that kick might have thought differently by the way that man flipped over in laid still. Of course, what the witness wouldn't have seen was that from the knee down James leg wasn't flesh and bone. It was at that point that James noticed that the one of the remaining three had pulled a knife.

James wasn't in any mood to deal with either a knife, a chain, or even the flight. So he escalated matters. He reached into his coat and pulled out his gun. He quickly discharged one of the rounds from the extremely short sawed-off double-barrelled shotgun into the air and then turned and levelled the other one at the two of them that had stopped at the sudden boom of the discharge. Luckily, one of them held the chain. James tried to put as much steel into his voice as he could when he told them. "Don't move! Don't even twitch!" The combination of his voice and the menacingly large barrels of the 12 gauge convinced them that they had better not want to move. At 8 feet, he wouldn't miss... either of them. The Magnum load of 4 mm shot through the less than 3 inches of remaining barrel meant that every square inch of both their bodies would get hit. All the parts with armour, and more importantly, all the parts that were not armoured. With this offhand, he pointed at the two Black Stars troopers. "You two.. Over here.. Now." James thought the two were going to argue with him until they saw the unit patch on the shoulder of his black duster and then they immediately complied.

"You two, drop those weapons!" James.

James saw the chain and the knife hit the ground like they had become too hot to hold. At least the men were not too drunk to see reason. James was happy for that.

"I believe you guys were leaving. That way." James said of indicating down the street from where he just come.

"Don't forget your friend." James said as he started to walk away without their fourth member.

James motion with his off hand for the to the two infantry types to start moving away in the direction toward the spaceport. James watched the three men carrying the fourth start moving off. After about 5 metres he started backing up. After three steps he turned around tucking the shotgun back under his coat and following the two infantry types back to the starport. After they got through the gates at the starport he motioned them on. He then stopped and turned and went back to the gates to check on the duty logs to see how many of his unit were still out in the town. After that, return to the ship, and then to his bunk.

DMM Live Fire Range
Oasis V
Bjarred
Draconis Combine
March 29th, 3080
1130 hours, Local time

While most eyes in the firing range were locked onto the ever increasing antics of a certain cursed tank, the Jack o’ Lanterns had gathered off to the side of the main event to see if Patrick was kidding himself or not about the usefulness of the Hiryo craft that the team had acquired.

“Look, here it comes.”

True to form, the new craft shot in from the far side of the field, sitting a scant few metres off the ground and cruising along at in excess of one hundred kilometres per hour.

“Doesn’t it go any faster?” Henry voiced the opinion that was forming in the rest of the group.

“No, but it can do this…” Patrick replied before murmuring into a comm unit.

The Hiryo wheeled around at maximum speed, lining up the front end with a distant target. Two narrow streaks of lightning flashed out, both hitting the target dead centre at near maximum range.

“So what? Light PPC’s are really only effective as deterrents, Patrick. I’m still not impressed,” Markus was starting to lose his temper with the smaller tech.

“Ok, how about this then? Oh, the crew don’t know about this one by the way,” and again Patrick murmured into his com unit.

In front of their eyes a series of turrets popped up out of the ground and started pounding the WiGE craft. The wings waggled as the pilots struggled to maintain control after the simulated damage of multiple autocannon and gauss rifle hits. Although it must have been badly battered, the craft somehow stayed aloft and fled the area.

“That gentlemen, and Michelle of course, is heavy ferro fibrous armour in action, and lots of it. So long as nothing critical is hit, that there machine will just keep flying. Not to mention that in rolling countryside it will outpace any hover vees of the same speed class as hills don’t bother it. So, what do you think?” Patrick had a stupidly large grin on his face.

“Fine,” Markus told him, “Just make sure you buy enough parts to keep the damn thing going.”

“Will do, hang on a sec…” Patrick held his finger to his ear, listening to a report coming in, “Oh man, you are NOT going to believe this.”

Markus raised an eyebrow, he had a feeling he knew what the call was about, “Well?” he asked.

“The Sanitarium just blasted the course record!” Patrick said excitedly.

Henry started grumbling under his breath before reaching into his pocket to hand over some cash to the grinning Vincent, “That Zi Long has more lives than a damned cat.”

“Hang on… the crew is safe but there was a shrapnel incident… the new tank commander is toast…”

Vincent waggled his finger at Henry, “Uh uh, you don’t get your money back, the bet was on the crew remember.”

“But he is part of the crew!”

“Enough. I told you not to bet on that damn machine, it’s bad for morale. Vincent, give him his money back, I call it even. Let’s get back, we’re leaving soon,” Markus barked the order.

Between the Event Horizon and that blasted Manteuffel, Zhi Long was amassing an arsenal of haunted and cursed equipment, and soldiers were all a superstitious lot at heart. It was a recipe for trouble, and Markus didn’t want a part of it.

Nibo national prison
Nibo city
11- August- 3080
11:00

"Hey Danny boy is your old man going to get us sprung or what?" Mickey

"I don't know Mickey. I honestly don't know if he can let alone wants to." Danny.

"Ahh, come on now, Danny boy, your dad's got political connections he hasn't even begun to flex his muscles on yet. Not to mention all the very bad publicity that he will get in the papers if this sentence gets carried out. That's something he'll want to avoid. He'll get you out Danny boy. He'll get you out." Mickey.

Time to break

13:30 same place, same day Scene visitors room

Daniel Von Mueller and Shepherd Book

"What are you doing here Shepherd?" Daniel.

"Well, my son, it is always in great times when one must believe in faith. That the great caretaker will look after his flock. And if he can't at least take care of the body, he can at least take care of the Spirit.

" Well my spirit is pretty low considering the situation I’m in. " Danny
"That is why you have to have faith Danny that is why you have to have faith. You have got to believe that the Great Caretaker has plans for your life and your soul. " Shepard Book

"Why don't you answer me a question their Shepard. Have you heard anything from my father? I haven't seen him since, well before any of this happened. Could it be that he doesn't want anything to do with me?" Danny

"Danny, there is a difference between want and need. I know he wants to be here. I know he wants to help. But showing up here will only draw an unwanted form of attention to your case and situation. And you don't want the wrong kind of attention drawn to your case do you?" Shepherd Book

"No, I guess not." Danny.

"Have you been praying Danny?" Shepherd Book

"I've been praying to get the hell out of here." Danny.

"You know those type of prayers are never answered. You should be praying for guidance and spiritual enlightenment. Those are the kind the Great Caretaker likes." Shepherd Book

"That's very difficult to do Shepherd." Danny.

"Nobody ever said that matters of faith were easy, just simple. Either you want to believe or you don't. If you want to believe then you believe, then all of the difficulties roll off. You must remember your teachings. The Great Caretaker's book says "the Great Caretaker looks over and watches his flock. The Shepherd is guided by the Great Caretaker to carry out his wishes and the flock itself must be ever vigilant for the paths that lead to trouble." Shepherd Book

"Now Danny you looked tired. You should go back and rest, and don't be afraid to seek guidance and spiritual enlightenment." Shepherd Book

"Yes, Shepherd." Danny.

"Now go get some rest. Tomorrow is another day." Shepherd Book

"That's if they don't decide to carry out my sentence today." Danny.

"Have faith, Danny, have faith." Shepherd Book

With that Shepherd Book got up and left.

Moments later, the guard appeared to escort Danny back to his cell. Danny had a long time to think. Danny was quiet and lost in thought on the way back to his cell. The guard was happy for the peace and quiet. You wouldn't believe how many people were claiming they were innocent and begging for help on how to get out of their situation. The prison population had gone through a marked decrease over the last couple of months from all of the pirates that had been convicted and had been publicly executed. So, again,the guard was happy for the quiet back to the cell. Happy that Danny was quiet, resigned to his fate. That would make the guard's life a lot easier until they carried out the sentence. But what Danny was really thinking was, how did Shepherd Book screw up that scripture he quoted me? Danny had received his religious training from this man for his whole life. On top of that this was one of the Shepherd's most favorite passages. He knew this one forwards, backwards, sideways and in five different languages. So how did he screw it up? It couldn't have been an accident could it?

Danny got back to his cell, and after the door had slammed closed and the lock had clicked clicked shut. The guard walked off. It was only a moment later, when Danny was hearing from the next cell over.

"Hey Danny boy, who come visit ya?" Mickey.

"Hey Mickey." Danny

"A Shepherd." Danny

"A Shepherd?" Mickey.

"Who come visit ya? What do they want?" Mickey.

"It was a Shepherd, inquiring about the well being of my soul." Danny.

"Did you tell him it wasn't the well-being of your soul that you are most worried about at the moment? It is the well-being of your body." Nikki

"Yeah, but he didn't seem too concerned about that, just my soul." Danny

"Ah Well. Any news on your father?" Mickey.

"Hrmmph, doesn't want to bring attention to me by coming and visiting." Danny.

"Don't worry Danny boy, your father will come through. He won't let his son go." Mickey.

"I'm glad you're so sure. Because I know I'm not." Danny.

You got to have faith, Danny boy." Mickey

"Funny that's what the Shepherd said." Danny.

With that, Danny walked over to his bunk and fell upon it. He still wasn't in a great mood. He had already almost given up hope that his father would ever do anything to help him out of this jam. Not that he would blame him.

LeeAnn has been a great looking woman and had a great gift for talk. Not that he really believed in everything she was saying, but she could be real charming. He was smitten with her. It also seemed that she had been smitten with him as well. He hadn't realized how deep he had gotten into things, until that day. Skipping out at night and going to see her and the silly meetings that she wanted to go to. It all came to a head when she said she was in trouble, and she needed his help, a lot of help. He still wasn't exactly sure how she had gotten into enough trouble that she needed him to take out one of the Mechs from the College over there and get her out of it. Of course, when he showed up. There were a lot of other Mechs there. A lot of them were sporting pirate and mercenary band unit patches. And then there came all of the Nibo troops and equipment. Then his mech was down, and he was running on foot. Of course, they caught him a short time later hiding in the basement of the building. He never did see LeeAnn again. So he still had no idea what happened to her.

Suddenly a thought occurred to him. He got up and walked to the edge of his cell. Mickey was in the one next to him. He went up to the bars and got Mickey's attention.

"Psst! Hey Mickey! Mickey! Hey!" Danny said in a loud whisper.

"Yeah, what is a Danny boy?" Mickey

"I've got a question." Danny.

"Yeah, what is a Danny boy?"

"Do you think they bug the visitation room?" Danny.

"Danny boy. Of course, they bug the visitation room. They even bug, the conjugal visits room. They like watching that. Especially over the last few months." Mickey.

"You mean all the time?" Danny.

"Of course, Danny boy. The only time they don't is when you have your lawyer there. And they don't even like that. They don't like that at all." Mickey.

"I see." Danny.

"Why do you ask Danny boy?" Mickey.

"I was just curious. Just curious." Danny.

Danny went back and laid on his bunk. Playing things over in his head. The Shepherd screwed up, one of his most favorite passages. It actually should have said... Could it be as simple as that? A message coded in a piece of scripture that unless you are familiar with the you wouldn't know. Yeah that makes sense. He covered that in communications class. Find a common ground that you expect your target audience to know and your enemy not too readily knowledgeable of. Yeah it made sense. If that's the case, what did it mean?

Of course, the last thing he said was to get some rest, and he looked real tired. And that tomorrow is another day. Danny ponder it some more. He decided to take the Shepherd's advice. Because if he was interpreting this correctly, the Shepherd was saying something might happen soon. Maybe tonight. If that was the case, then he would need his rest. Of course it's all supposition, so why bother Mickey right now.

Mickey had been with him ever since he had been arrested. He had seen him at a few of the rallies that LeeAnn had drag him to. But ever since he had been here. Mickey had latched onto him and had been sticking with him. It was good to have a friend in a place like this. Danny tried clinging to the glimmer of hope that he thought he had heard a little while earlier. He tried to get some sleep. Either way, it was going to be a long night. The nights here were always long. Because Danny didn't know which morning they were going to come and get him and execute him.

<Scene break> <Time break>

12 August 3080
00:35


Danny was there, staring out the small window of his cell. From this vantage point, he could see the large grassy field just outside the perimeter fences. The moon was occluded by a cloud at the moment, but when it came out he would be able to see all the small white markers in the field. A lot of them were still gleaming with their newness. There were some other markers up on that hill closer to the top. They were exactly 3 feet in diameter, each covering a new hole that had been freshly dug. Each one dropping down 4 m. Those were the new grave sites. The ones that hadn't been filled yet. One of those would be for him. The strange part was, even after you were executed you still weren't leaving prison not for at least five years. At that point in time, if it was petition for, and the body could be released for burial in the family plot or where ever. It was an extra step to make sure that there were no tricks. Nobody escaped the death man around here. They had instituted that policy after a few people have somehow faked their deaths at or around execution, either in their cells or before the execution. Their bodies supposedly being carried away to be buried in family plots or wherever. People had escaped a few of them had later been found out. It was after that that the policy had been instituted.

It was then that he heard the boots of the guards coming down the hall. It wasn't the single set of the normal guard on rounds. When they stopped outside his cell he turned to look. That is when he heard the cell door unlocking. With the small amount like that came through the cell window, you could see the two cell guards motioning for him to come. They grabbed him, put him in cuffs and started walking him out into the hall.

Danny stopped and said, "where are we going?"

"Come on, you should know. Let's go." Guard.

That's when Danny heard the rustle in the cell beside his, it was coming from Mickey's cell. He knew Mickey was up and was listening. That's when Danny decided to play a trump card.

"Yeah, but the deal was two of us, meaning this guy right here and I don't see him out here." Danny.

Then he jerked his head toward Mickey cell as, he said that to guards.

"We were sent to pick you up. They will send other guards for him." Guard.

"There aren't any other set of guards. And you and I both know that this was supposed to be for two people. He's got a come to." Danny.

"I've only got orders to bring you ..." Guard

"I'm telling you the deal was for two. And you and I both know you can't afford any complications either. So get him out and let's go." Danny.

The guard paused, a moment and looked at the other guard. The other guard shrugged his shoulders. Then the first guard went over and unlocked Mickey's cell. What the hell. If the deal wasn't for two they could haul him back to the cell without too much trouble. Calling it a paperwork snafu, or something. They put Mickey in cuffs to and started dragging him along. Mickey had heard through the cell door enough to keep his mouth shut "deal... two... come on... go ... right now."

This was it. This was what Mickey had been hoping for. Yeah, Mickey had seen Danny around the rallies. He even found out who he was even a Danny was using a fake name at the time. LeeAnn could always find the good ones. The ones that came from money, political connections. She was one of QuickSells best recruiters. So what Mickey spotted Danny inside here, he knew. The only he was getting out of here was if he could attach his ass to Danny, and it looks like it was off. Get out of here and get to freedom. Now all he had to do was to figure out what kind in the hell kind of deal that Danny had struck and how he could play it.

The guards let the two of them through what felt like a maze of corridors and check points. Nobody stopped and questioned them at all. Until they stopped at this door. It was a high-security door with twin locks and twin retinal scanners. The two guards had the men, kneel, facing the wall, while they opened the door. Then they grabbed the two and lead them through the door. They were now actually outside the main prison facility. There was a small group of men there. Four of them looked like they were dressed as Nibo military police. There was also man and a long black trench coat. There was still another man who looked like a driver. And then there was one other person there. It was Shepherd Book.

James was taken a back. The deal was for one and the guards had brought two. Was this a setup? James had seen a picture in the file. The younger man was definitely the one in the picture.

James looked at the man and said, "who's your friend?"

"His name is Mickey. He is with me." Danny.

"I don't know any Mickey." James.

"Danny boy and I are friends see. Where he goes, I go." Mickey said.

"Mister, I wasn't told anything about you. Escort for one was all it said." James.

"Then your boss didn't give you the full story. There's two. Danny and me." Mickey.

James was feeling a little nervous. This could easily be a setup. If he accepted the second person... It could be an agent. Then he, Eugene and the four Black Stars in their "borrowed" uniforms could be looking at having cells right beside these guys. James looked over at them. Then he looked over at Shepherd Book, there was nothing.

James pulled Danny over to one side by the arm and said, "look, I don't know this guy."

"Don't worry about it. He's with me. We got arrested at the same time." Danny.

"Yeah. I'm not sure if you know who I am or what I do. The only reason I'm here to meet you is because you are supposed to be a great Mech warrior pilot." James.

Danny looked a little fearful.

"I would've been a Mech warrior, in two more months. I was almost to graduation. Graduation was in two more months." Danny.

That was one of the answers James wanted to hear.

"And your friend?" James.

Danny thought back, he wasn't 100% sure if Mickey was or not. But he did know that Mickey like to always be called Shafter. One of the Mech IDs, back when things blew up was Shafter. So Danny put one and one together. It had to be the same person, it just had to be.

So he went to James and said, "yeah, he's a Mech warrior pilot."

James didn't like the momentary pause. Both men knew that James was asking Daniel vouch for this man. Daniel did, but James would remember the pause.

James voice dropped and became menacing "Another question for you Mister. I'm not sure if anyone told you what I do, but I'm a merc.
Your deal was that you were going to work for me going where I say to go and doing what I say. Are you going to have any problems at all doing that?

Daniel paused for a moment staring James right in the eyes. Staring at James eye to eye. After a brief moment of trying to size the man up.

Daniel said. "No sir."

That's when James turned to Mickey and asked him the same question.

Mickey didn't even bat an eye "you better believe I will."

With that James stepped off to one side and waved them towards the vehicle.
Logged

Vampire

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Re: Contract 3A - More rumblings from the Deep Periphery (KoN Sup Contract)
« Reply #1 on: September 26, 2011, 06:12:02 AM »

Nibo City, Kingdom of Nibo
Nibo IV
12th August 3080
1000 hours local time

The founding fathers of Kingdom of Nibo had high ideals when the discovered the deep periphery world more than forty light years away from the Draconis-Lyran borders just before the First Succession War. Escaping from the ravages of war after the departure of General Kerensky and the Star League Armed Forces, the refugees from the Draconis Combine had tried to follow the trails of the Exodus Fleet, but had lost itself in the uncharted deep space. They had nearly given up hope, and nearly surrendered itself to mutiny led by the increasing frustrations of more than a few of its members against the leader of the wandering group when the JumpShip Captain declared with joy that they had chanced upon a water rich world in an otherwise uninhabited system.

After a rather protracted saga which could be filmed into a movie, if not a trilogy itself, the system was named Nibo, with the solitary sustainable planet settled.

The Kingdom was to be a place where political terrorism and strict state police monitoring were none existent. It was to be a world where economy would be self sufficient, and reliance on outside commerce cut to a minimum. Nibo would be a place where the memory of the decline of technology so widespread among the Inner Sphere would be arrested, and reversed. In short, the Kingdom was Nibo was to be a paradise.

It was all crap.

Over the next few years, assorted bands of rag tag refugees much like the pioneer refugees themselves and other miscellaneous groups of pirates chanced upon the Nibo system and the newly minted King’s small but well trained army. The former provided much hungered after news from the Inner Sphere, while the latter offered the chance for the Nibo Armed Forces to sharpen their skills and obtain hard to come by salvage, not to mention willing recruits from the defeated pirate forces. (The NAF had grown noticeably slack after the first year passed with them not needed to do anything much except stand intimidating around to cower the civilians…)

With a wide cross section of civilians among them, the Kingdom of Nibo actually managed to engaged successfully in agriculture, fishery, animal husbandry and even light manufacturing of civilian products.

While the 2nd, 3rd and 4th Succession Wars tore the heart out of the Inner Sphere and many other Periphery kingdoms, the Kingdom of Nibo was relatively untouched. Succeeding lines of Kings achieved their leadership by ensuring loyalty of the standing military force, they managed to persuade the civilians to throw in their lots behind him.

While the population of the Kingdom of Nibo never soared, it climbed steadily over the years to reach an impressive number of half a billion. Even though the Kings of Nibo could never claim to be excellent rulers, they all did wisely follow in the footsteps of first King in encouraging research and investments in all aspect of life so that Nibo could be self sustaining.

The Kingdom even managed to reverse engineer some of the hardware that trickled into the Kingdom. While many of these were pathetic and crude machines, mostly manufactured by the less than reliable Quikscell Company, they did mean that the military of the Kingdom could churn out military vehicles cheaply and rapidly in obscene quantities. Further supplemented by a semi-company of BattleMechs (the youngest of which was a 25 ton Commando captured sometime during the 3rd Succession War), the vast fleet of vehicles would pose considerable danger to many an unwary raider. More than an invading force of pirates had found the price of poor (actually, none existent) intelligence gathering as they fell quickly to concentrated and overwhelming firepower from hundreds of tanks crewed by hastily conscripted civilians.

The Kingdom of Nibo narrowly escaped invasion by the Clans as their system laid just (and by just here, it meant a single jump) beyond the invasion corridor of the returning Army of Kerensky. However, routed military units fleeing the Clan invasion DID stumble onto the Kingdom. Seeking to take over the seemingly defenceless world for their own, more than a few of such units tried to drop onto the world in a show of military might. Very few could display the subsequent required show of flight.

In recent years, the Kingdom slowly but steadily rejected Quikscell military equipment. Its subsidiary in the Kingdom - Nibo QS Ltd, hatched an insidious plan. They would covertly hire and arm bandits and assorted mercenary bands with war machines and encourage them to raid and attack the Kingdom. They surmised that with the relative lack of experience and what they felt was Periphery produced pooh-dunk equipment, the NAF would not be able to withstand these attacks. Nibo QS Ltd would than step in, offer their superior combat equipment to the NAF, and then pay their hired guns to scale down and eventually cease their attacks, thereby swinging things back in their favour.

Quikscell would also supply other machines that were commonly available throughout the Inner Sphere so as not to draw suspicions of their involvement with the attacks. (Unofficially, even Quikscell knew that their own machines would be no match for the generally superior machines produced by Nibo Heavy Industries. Not only would combat machines produced by more reputable companies like Aldis Industries and Scarborough Ltd hide Quikscell's involvement, they would also provide the raiders with hopefully higher quality and efficiency).

However, Quikscell’s plans backfired as the numerous raids only prompted the Kingdom to expand their units by buying MORE of their own products. Faced with a mounting payroll without positive input, Nibo QS Ltd ordered the pirates to come together into a massive horde and invaded the Deep Periphery nation.

While the Kingdom would eventually succeed in repelling the attacks, their victory would cost them dear. However, rather than force the Deep Periphery world to increase its reliance on its neighbours, the invasion reinforced their view that they should strive for independence.

Zhao turned the small piece of weapon in his hands, his eyes going over the details while feeling the weight, or rather, the lack of it. And THIS, is just one of the many results of that view. If Nibo had a greater population base, and stronger economy…

Ira smiled at the Black Star officer. “What do you think Captain?”

The Chinese man returned the smile. “I like it.”


Basic "Clean" Layout


With attached scope, extended magazine, silencer and other accessories.

The Nibo pilot took the weapon back from Zhao’s hands. “The Nibo Kinetics (NK) 88 Personal Defence Weapon. Smaller than a conventional submachine gun, the 4.6 mm NK88 is a compact and lightweight Personal Defence Weapon that can be carried like a handgun yet is capable of rifle-like effectiveness.”

Zhao nodded. From what Ira had already explained, a subsidiary of Nibo Heavy Industries - Nibo Kinetics-developed 4.6 mm x 30 ammunition provided the penetration approaching that of an assault rifle round and would be able to defeat the types of body armour frequently found in the hands of terrorists and criminal gangs, as well as other non-Battle Armour troops. In response to the proliferation of body armour for non-BA soldiers, NK developed a Personal Defense Weapon system that will penetrate some of the most common body vest, usually with 1.6 mm titanium plates and 20 layers of Kevlar, out to 200 meters and beyond.

Adopted and fielded by the Kingdom of Nibo's vehicular crew as well as pilots and even some MechWarriors, the NK88 could be fired from the closed bolt position, using a rotary locking bolt system similar to that of the some of the more common assault rifles to contain the powerful 4.6 mm cartridge.

The NK88 handled like a pistol yet allowed targets to be engaged like a rifle. With its 7 inch barrel, the NK88 was capable of firing ten shot semiautomatic groups at 45 meters of less than 2 inches. Unlike other similar designs, the conventional and fully ambidextrous design of the NK88 ensured immediate acceptance by all users.

The NK88 was manufactured predominantly of carbon fibre reinforced polymer with embedded metal components where needed. In the hands of a nominally trained user, the weapon could be field stripped in seconds without tools and required little cleaning due to its unique gas system.

The lethal 4.6 mm x 30 cartridge generated minimal felt recoil (50% of 9mm rounds) to assure that multiple hits would be easily obtainable in all modes of fire — incapacitating the target through penetration and permanent tissue destruction.

The NK88 was fitted with a removable full length rail on the top of the receiver for mounting a variety of optional targeting devices. Optional forearm rails were also available. Standard folding mechanical peep sights could be fitted to the top rail or an optional 24-hour reflex sight attached in seconds without tools. The reflex sight provided a single red aiming dot for 24-hour use when the weapon was fired from the shoulder or at arms length like a handgun.

Special carrying devices were further made available for overt and discreet carry of the NK88. Due to its lightweight, small size and minimal width the NK88 had proved itself suitable for VIP protection details, pilots, drivers, guards, and support personnel who required hands-free carry of their defensive weapon while performing other tasks.



“It weighs only 1.9kg?” Zhao asked.

“Indeed. 590 mm with stock extended and 380 mm with stock collapsed. Barrel length of 180 mm, and capable of a rate of fire of 950 + 200 rounds per minute.” Ira informed. “ It has an effective range of 200 meters, and comes in feed systems of 20 or 40 round box magazine.”

Zhao nodded. “I’ll order some for my vehicle crew.” He turned towards David, who had kept quiet while the Nibo pilot had given the specifications of the NK 88. “I know you prefer your guns… bigger, but we might want to check it some of the others want it for their sub-unit as well?”

David just glanced at the weapon and dismissed it. "Ask them if you want, but I'd bet they will want something with a little bit better ammunition availability. We aren't staying on Nibo forever, you know."

"You would not need to worry about that Lieutenant." Ira smiled. "The NK88 has already had some success in the export market, notably in the Draconis Combine. The ammunition itself isn't all that difficult to obtain as well."

The trio had been returned to Nibo after their scouting and exploration expedition just the day before. Even as their DropShip had burned towards the planet itself, their findings and reports had been transmitted to the King and his advisors. In a surprisingly fast turnaround, the Black Stars had been informed that the King had requested for a meeting for the mission debrief the next day.

The huge double doors on one end of the hall way that led to the King’s court opened silently on well oiled hinges, with a young Nibo officer approaching the three men.

“The King would like to request for your kind presence please.”

Zhao winked at David. “Let’s not keep his Majesty waiting than.”

In the room, the Black Star reports had been spread over a large table, with holovids of aerial and orbital photos of the pirate bases projected over the table. Around the table, King Marcus Collins, Rear Admiral Vincent Alfax and Major Emma Katz were pouring over the details, joined by two other officers, both spotting the ranks of Colonel.

“Captain Zhao! Lieutenant Ten-Bears! Welcome back to the Kingdom!” The King beamed brightly as the pair approached the table. The others turned towards the approaching mercenaries. “I believe you have already met Rear Admiral Alfax and Major Katz previously. This gentleman is Senior Colonel Andrew Smith, commander of our 1st Heavy Guards Regiment.”

The more elderly of the unfamiliar officers extended his hands to shake both of those of Zhao and Ten-Bears. Despite his obvious age, his grip was strong, but not overly so.

“And this is Colonel Richard Carls, commander of the 5th Nibo Armoured Regiment.”

“Gentlemen.” The younger Carls smiled easily at the pair of Black Stars. “We understand that we owe the safe return of the Professor and his crew, as well as the discovery of those blasted bandits who had been plaguing Nibo. Thank you.”

“Its our job.” Zhao dismissed the complements with a slight tilt of his head. “I would be worried if we didn’t find anything.”

“Indeed.” The young King added. “For without a proper enemy, we wouldn’t be here.”

Zhao raised an eyebrow. “Oh?”

“As you well know, the Kingdom’s still rebuilding from the devastation of the QS backed invasion last year. While the Colonels had wanted the honour of crashing the possible remnants of those mercenary turned pirates, a quick number crunching concluded what I have feared – that we are in no shape to undertake such an operation.”

David shrugged. "Not exactly a surprise... if you'd had available forces for outside operations, we wouldn't have been hired for escort duty in the first place."

“In light of that predicament, the Kingdom would like to extend a supplement contract to the Black Stars for the neutralization of these pirates.” The King continued. “Payment would be double what we offered for the earlier escort duty of course, with full salvage rights.”

“Any supporting forces?” Zhao asked.

“The Next Stop will continue to provide you with the means to travel to, and back from that system where the pirates are holding up. Its… what was it called again?” The King looked around.

“DD-456-M-2” Ira reminded his King politely.

“Silly name to give a planet if you ask me.” The King rolled his eyes. “But anyway, Lieutenant Kepford will also continue to provide some aerospace support with his pair of Sword OmniFighters.”

“Unfortunately, that will be all the military support we can provide you with.” Colonel Richard Carls concluded.

"If these are indeed the remnants of the pirates and mercs who participated in the attack against us the previous year, I can tell you now that they're armed with more than just rust buckets and tanks held together by spit, bale and prayers."Senior Colonel Andrew Smith rubbed his jaws, brows knotted. "While you won't spot the latest top of the line machines in their ranks, they have been known to have some upgraded hardware as well."

"We'll work with that in mind." Zi Long replied. "And thank you for letting the Swords accompany us for this supplement contract."

David sighed. "It's more than most of our employers are able to contribute." David turned to face the King. "And if you don't care for the current name, your Majesty, you could always give it a new one. The planet WAS found by forces under your banner, and you ARE the local sovereign. Who better to give it a more fitting name?"

The young leader of the Deep Periphery world grinned at Ten-Bears. "We'll see about that after the successful conclusion of your mission. There's more than enough time."

Zi Long nodded. "If that's the case, we'll see to the necessary preparations for our departure as soon as possible."

"Of course." Marcus agreed. "Good luck, and good hunting."

As the pair of Black Stars left the room, Zi Long turned towards David. "Get our people ready. Check out supplies and equipment. We'll conduct a mission briefing on the Event itself at twenty hundred hours today."

August 12th, 3080
1102 hours, Local time
Seeker-Class Dropship Event Horizon
Nibo Spaceport
Nibo City, Nibo IV
Kingdom of Nibo


Aina sometimes had to wonder if having a commanding position is worth it.

Being a former trueborn clan warrior, she was born and raised to be a fighter, to battle in the fields of honour, to kill or to be killed.

She never expected the amount of paperwork that comes with the responsibility of having her own command. If anything, she wondered how many clan warriors would strive to rise up in the ranks had they known of the less glamorous side of command, the one she had to cope with daily these days.

But cope with it she must. This is one annoyance that unfortunately did not go away if you shoot at it with a large-calibre autocannon. From the moment the unit approaches Nibo IV she had been looking over the “budget” of her unit, from her earnings over the past few months (a rather surprisingly large amount considering the relatively sweatless work over the time), to the supplies that she would need to purchase – she had to repress a instinctive shudder at the thought of doing things usually relegated to those in the merchant caste – for her growing unit, for she judged that she had enough of the money used by these inner sphere people to purchase a Mech of her own, and possibly much more after the current mission is over. The big purchases would have to wait until the unit as a whole returned to the inner sphere proper however, for the risks of delivering goods all the way out to the deep periphery where they are right now are not to her tastes. For now she would have to work with what she had in hand.

First she would need to secure a healthy supply of underwing-mount Air-to-air and air-to-ground Arrow IV and Thunderbolt missiles – military supply that fortunately enough, could be purchased even in the relatively isolated Kingdom of Nibo. The ideas of her two aerospace pilots seem to have merit in her mind, and combined with the extremely unorthodox (even by inner sphere standards) tactics used by the Black Stars as a whole, she decided to add a collection of different types of bombs to that, ranging from regular high-explosive ones to mine-laying ones to ones loaded with inferno gel and timed to explode in mid-air, literally showering those underneath it in a rain of burning inferno gel.

As for Mechs… She knew that she would need to purchase one on her own soon – and she intends to do so as well once they reached a planet with a MHB depot on it. A quick browse of the catalogue provided by the place made it clear to her that more likely than not, she would not be able to afford any machine that are considered top-of-the-line, since their prices would probably turn a Diamond Shark merchant purple with a single glance. Having resigned herself to the cheaper Mechs on the market, she then matched them to the profile she had in mind for the unit she plans to build out of her current small one.

She knows that she wanted to build it along the lines of organization most familiar to her, that used by the clan. A trinary… with a star each of Mechs, vehicles, and aerospace fighters… The vehicle force should be heavies and assaults, slow, yet well-armoured and bristling with long-range guns, while she plans her Mech forces to be lighter and faster, mostly mediums with a heavy or two at most. The aerospace fighters… she felt that part might be better left at the hands of the aerospace pilots themselves, since she had to admit that she knows very little about actual aerospace combat, being a MechWarrior.

First things first however. In order to expand her unit, she would need more people as well as hardware. The hardware she planned to get soon, but the people… she planned to do that part earlier, so that she could weed out the useless ones and further train the ones she consider usable for her unit. Of course, the hard part would be actually finding MechWarriors here in Nibo. Thinking about that, she stood up from behind the Spartan desk, and donned her Black Star long coat, heading out of the DropShip and into the city proper with the intent of finding some usable candidates in mind.

~ Later that night ~

Having just returned to her bunk room aboard the Event horizon after a fruitless search throughout the day, followed by a strategy briefing which she attended, mostly content with Zhao’s plan, since she did not think she could think out the kind of plans he and other members of the unit seem to literally pull out of nowhere, Aina felt somewhat annoyed about failing to find even a single MechWarrior who was free to join the mercenaries. She frequented mostly bars and the likes, places where she knew from experience warriors usually gather in, but to her bad luck, not a single one of those she talked with were free or willing to join the Black Stars.

When she entered her bunk room, she found the two aerospace pilots inside, together with Diana, apparently helping the little girl pass the time. She nodded at them both, which they returned with salutes (Theresa did. Erica was occupied with the little girl as well as her own pet cat).

“Good evening Ma’am. Didn’t see you around the ship all day.”

“Good evening. It baffles me how difficult it was to find a free MechWarrior on this planet…” Aina muttered out of frustration.

“Checked the bars?” Chimed Erica out of a sudden.

“Naturally. Not a single freelance warrior among those I visited.”

Erica seemed to ponder her thoughts for a moment, before she turned back to face the other two women again. “Mind a suggestion, ma’am?”

“If you know where to find some warriors, certainly.”

“Know any gambling dens around here?”

Less than one hour later, Aina found herself inside a somewhat dimly lit room, one reeking of tobacco smoke, strong drinks, and god only knows what else. Despite the run-down entrance of the place, the insides were by local standards, relatively luxurious, with the carpeting thick and the chairs plush, covered with the local equivalent of velvet. The room was rather crowded, with the crowd ranging from burly types that are likely engaged in military profession to rather well-dressed people who mostly populated the tables on the second floor. Several rather scantily clad women (and men as well) were walking amongst the throng with trays of refreshments that they offered to any who asked for one. On the various tables were various card games, dice games, and other games of chance, and piles of C-bills traded hands every moment in the place. Off in one corner there was even a couple of large holovid screens, one constantly running matches straight off Solaris VII, while the other was linked to the pair of simulator pods set in that corner of the room.

“Now Ma’am, if you don’t mind, wait for us here.” Said Erica with a smug grin on her face. Aina was noticeably out of her element in such places. “We’ll bring over those we think might work your way.”

“You did not come here just to help look for warriors, quiaff?” Asked Aina in return, noticing the glitter in Erica’s eyes.

“No point of visiting these places if you ain’t going to rip some people off.” Replied Erica in a low voice, the grin widening on her face.

Aina has to hand it to the Lyran fighter pilots that they know what they were doing. In less than forty-five minutes they already sent four people her way for a little “interview”, two of them gruff-looking unshaved men whose resemblance would probably mean some family relations between them. Another was an older woman, around her fifties, who wore a rather haunted look on her face. The fourth “applicant” amused her somewhat, for the girl was young, at most around Erica’s age, and was actually one of the scantily-dressed serving maids that was passing refreshments. From a short interview with each of them, Aina managed to gather a little bit of information on them, although she would not trust most of what has been told by these people.

The two gruff men identified themselves Charles and Robert Haines, former mercenaries, although most of the units they claimed to be formerly part of were ones that Aina did not recognize, and a questioning glance at Theresa only earned a shrug. The Lyran pilot apparently never having heard of those units as well. The two boasted a lot, but personally, she doubted they could do much of what they boasted. But they were eager, dispossessed, and more importantly, without work at the moment.

The older woman, Leanne Ferguson, claimed much more quietly as once having been a part of Redjack Ryan’s pirate band, who since made her living working for small-time mercenary units. Aina suspected that the main reason she was on Nibo at the moment might have been related to the pirate/ mercenary attack to the kingdom a while ago, which might also contribute to her dispossessed state, although the woman looks like she could make a living out of gambling alone.

The last one, the scantily clad young woman who passed her time there as a waiter, told a much more believable story. Hazel Burns was her name, and she said she was a drop out of the Nibo military academy due to financial reasons, and had been working in places like this one to try get money to pursue her dream as being a MechWarrior. Aina considered her as most likely the least experienced one of the bunch, but eager, and chances are her background is rather probably the real one, whereas she would not be surprised if the others had invented some parts of their backgrounds.

Aina decided on which one to hire rather simply. She booked the simulator pods for the next hour, and simply shoved the four applicants one after another into the simulator pods, with herself acting as their opponent, cycling them one after the another to judge for herself how good they are. It did not take her long to decide that neither of the Haines brothers would do for her. Both men picked heavy or assault Mechs for their rides in every occasion, while Aina picked a STV-4L Sturmvogel medium Mech, the one inner sphere Mech that reminds her the most of her usual Stormcrow B. Despite the weight discrepancy, she won every bout against those two easily, and usually, within less than three minutes.

The other two proved to harder to pick from, and she found both the women to be better pilots by far compared to the Haines Brothers, with the older Leanne noticeable having more experience, but the younger Hazel making up for it with reaction speed, and from Aina’s point of view, more potential to grow. Leanne tended to fall back into routines in combat, a fault that Aina would exploit mercilessly with guns blazing. Hazel’s inexperience in turn leads her to make mistakes, but that is more understandable, and Aina figured that it would be easier to train a young rookie to overcome those flaws than to retrain an old pilot.

After one hour that left the four applicants thoroughly humbled (each one having been beaten in the simulators three times in a row), neither the Haines Brothers nor Leanne offered any protest when Aina politely (if very frankly) told them that they are not what she was looking for one after the other. Now a sullen-looking Hazel Burns stood in front of her, the younger girl definitely thinking that she had lost her chance for employment with the mercenaries.

“Now, Miss Burns, are you still interested in working as a mercenary?” Asked Aina.

Hazel’s eyes it up at the question. “You mean… You would accept me, ma’am!?”

“I will put it bluntly. You are inexperienced, you make mistakes only made by nestlings, and you definitely would need to learn.”

Hazel’s looks were cast down once again with the slight dressing-down.

“But you at least are young enough to be trained to work over those flaws, and better than those so-called MechWarriors are.“ Said Aina, throwing a glance at the retreating form of the Haines Brothers. “I am willing to give you a chance, but you will not pilot a Mech until I deem you ready for the task. Your pay will depend on your performance, with only food and board during this trial period.”

“Ordinarily I would not be recruiting people without combat experience, but as you spheroids say, the pickings are rather slim on this planet of yours. Do you accept?”

“Yes, Ma’am! And thank you!” Answered the young girl eagerly.

“Get something more passable to wear. We are leaving soon.”

Hazel looked somewhat troubled at that. The truth is, she did not carry much more than a long coat to cover her scant “uniform”. Fortunately for her, Erica solved the issue by kindly tossing a MechWarrior’s jumpsuit her way. Hazel nodded her thanks, and put on the jumpsuit, which although a couple sizes too large, would do for the time being. Aina raised an eyebrow questioningly at Erica, as if querying just where she found that jumpsuit, to which the diminutive Lyran pointed with her right thumb over her shoulder at a man who was dejectedly leaving the establishment – in nothing but briefs and undershirt.

Aina can’t help but shake her head at the sight. It would indeed be a long while for her to accustom herself with living among these people of the Inner Sphere.
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Vampire

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Re: Contract 3A - More rumblings from the Deep Periphery (KoN Sup Contract)
« Reply #2 on: September 26, 2011, 06:13:05 AM »

Seeker Class Dropship: “Event Horizon”
Nibo Royal Spaceport
Nibo City, Kingdom of Nibo
Nibo IV
12th August 3080
1800 hours local time


David frowned as he stared at the orbital photos once more. Three separate encampments, with three separate sets of defenders, all of which needed to be taken down. Unfortunately, hit one, and the others would be alerted, letting them prepare defences and making the costs to remove them that much higher.

Added to that, the thin atmosphere on the mining colony planet meant that Lockheart’s VTOL’s, Lantern’s Hiryo and Hephaestus, and Lochnivar’s Maxim would be next to useless. All of those vehicles required a thicker atmosphere to operate effectively.

David leaned back in his chair and ran his hand through his hair. The only thing to be done was to hit all three locations simultaneously, or as close to it as they could manage.

He idly tapped the table with a finger as he thought about the best distribution of resources.

Three camps… An old mine, a crude spaceport… though truth be told it was more a flat spot with a couple atmosphere bubbles than a port… and a larger encampment.

The mine site was interesting, if only because for some reason, the pirates appeared to be constructing an old style castle on one of the hills overlooking the place. David supposed that they were using slave labour. He wasn’t sure WHY they wanted a castle, but it didn’t really matter. Whim, ego, or just to keep the slaves busy, it really wasn’t that important right now.

David nodded to himself. Combat vehicles or Mechs would be of limited use in those confines… Lantern’s battle-armour on the other hand… David smiled.

David set unit designator tokens on top of the appropriate file. The Jack-O’ Lanterns, Loch’s Lancers, and… Dragon would do for heavy support. David smiled coldly as he thought about the sort of mayhem Lantern’s crew could cause in that sort of terrain.

Pushing that file aside, he turned to the so-called spaceport. Three small support domes and an open area. When they’d photographed it, it had held a Mule and a Leopard class DropShip. If possible, David would like to get those ships intact, but if they had to settle for blowing them to hell, that would be acceptable.

Moving a few more tokens, David assigned sub-units to the task. Lockheart’s crew would provide the majority of the ground forces. His Mechs and near battalion of Battle-Armour should be able to take the ships fairly quickly… David paused as he thought of something, then added Aina’s unit to that assignment. Having both Lockheart’s Corax and Aina’s two fighters flying CAP should go a long way to convincing the DropShips to stay on the ground. And if the Leopard should have a fighter or two loaded? Well, an air-to-air Arrow IV should take the starch out of them fairly quickly. And they could always be called to support one of the other units fairly quickly if that was needed.

The last location was the largest, and in David’s mind the only one that could really be considered a real camp or settlement. Over a dozen environmental domes of varying sizes clustered around the remains of what looked to have once been a massive hydroponics dome. David figured it had once helped keep the miners fed as well as generating much needed oxygen. Every little bit they could do on-site meant one less thing they didn’t need to ship in. Not to mention that fresh food was always a morale booster. These days, however, the big dome was just a collapsed shell, surrounded by a hodgepodge of mismatched pressure domes and crude buildings.

David shrugged and put two more tokens down. He and Zhao would be taking this site. Once they’d cleared any Mechs and vees, Gallagher and Conti could take the infantry in to clear the domes by hand.

Seeker Class Dropship: “Event Horizon”
Nibo Royal Spaceport
Nibo City, Kingdom of Nibo
Nibo IV
12th August 3080
1940 hours local time

Zi Long went through the plan put forward by David again, repeatedly cross referencing with reports of pirate equipment and hardware reports courtesy of the various battle reports by Nibo forces that had went up against them. There were other incidents of what could be the very same pirates hitting other worlds within a three jump radius to the system itself. Better to overestimate the bandits than to think lesser of them.

With three identified locations where the bandits had set up base, the Stars would need to hit them simultaneously - that both David and him had agreed on. If they hit them one at a time, the others would be alerted. Compounding the problem was that they were all close enough to one another that the other two parties would quickly reinforce the one that was attacked, and the latter would only need to hold on long enough for assistance to arrive. Surprise and local numeric superiority was the key to a quick victory here.

While all reports indicate that the pirates would have a large contingent of support combat vehicles, the thin atmosphere would mean that VTOLs, hover crafts, and indeed any internal combustion engine powered machines would be next to useless. If the pirates had positioned them in entrenchments, they might serve as pillboxes. Otherwise, these would be removed from the equation.

That left their enemies with BattleMechs, small numbers of Battle Armour, reported sightings and orbital scans of Manticore tanks, and the usual swarm of infantry.

However, the downside of it was that the Black Stars' own substantial vehicular force would be compromised as well. The Zhukov and pair of Po tanks under David's Los Lupos Negros would not be deployed, nor could Lantern's newly acquired Hiryu WiGE and his Hephaestus hover tank. Loch's Maxim heavy hover transport would also be not usable, meaning that the Battle Armour forces would be handicapped in terms of rapid deployment. The problem was made worst with the inability of the Black Stars' force multiplier - the fleet of Trouble Inc.'s VTOLs, to operate in the thin atmosphere. Even his own spanking new fusion engine Pegasus scout hover tank would not be able to see action on the planet.

There would also be a need to ensure their people go in with environmental protective suits, sealed hulls and other preventive measures due to the fact that prolonged exposure to the elements would be less than healthy. It would not make too much of a difference to the Battle Armour troops of course, but it might affect the combat effectiveness of the infantry and vehicle crew somewhat. Still, breach of their suits or their rides would not result in instant death. Any Mechjock or vee crew who needed to exit their ride in a hurry could always pull on their helmets and masks after they get out of their machines. Zi Long hoped that none of them would need to do that.

When they were previously over the system, they had sighted a Mule and Leopard. The Event by itself could take on the pair of them in the air or space. With the trio of aerospace fighters the Stars had acquired however, he was sure they would not come to that. Still, he was counting on securing, or even neutralizing them on the ground if possible, especially if the pirates had some fighters on their own that their scans had failed to spot. On the other hand, unless they had a massive hidden air force, the Black Stars' Corax, Samurai and Sai reinforced with the Nibo Sword OmniFighters should be able to make short work of any enemy aerial forces.

Given the terrain and enemy force, Zi Long could only agree with the plan that David had drawn out. Lantern's Battle Armour and Loch's infantry would work well in the close and rugged terrain where the pirates were seemingly construction a fortress from where the mines were reportedly located. The expected narrow corridors and alley ways would make movement and combat constrictive even for Lockheart's heavier Battle Armour. While being one of the smallest jump jet equipped BattleMechs, Dragon in her loaned Spector would provide impressive heavy firepower support.

With DropShips to capture, and being the only logical location where hidden aerospace fighters could be hidden, the aerospace fighters from Trouble Inc. and the Fallen Falcons were naturally selected to deal with the Drop Port. Lockheart's considerable Battle Armour forces would be ideal to storm the Port as well as the hopefully grounded DropShips. Zi Long NEARLY felt a pang of pity for any pirate DropShip crew who might come up against the heavy military exoskeletons, especially the image of the heavy battle claw armed Kanazuchi slashing and dicing through hordes of screaming enemy infantry.

That would leave his own tanks as wells those of David's and his BattleMechs against the largest concentration of enemy forces at their largest base. Consolidated, the pirates definitely outnumber the Stars. Divided...

Zi Long grinned. Time to plan for ambushes methinks...


2030 hours local time

Zi Long swept his hair as discussions broke out among the various sub-unit commanders again. The meeting had been typically Black Stars - information was presented, mauled over, and ideas presented and discarded quickly if they proved unfeasibly. Some were accepted, but with suggestions on how to improve them thrown in. The mercenaries hungrily poured over the aerial and orbital photos, as well as any intel they had obtained.

None of the Stars were happy with the thought of splitting their forces, but they all accepted that it was unavoidable. James had asked about the gravitational conditions on the planet, as well as What about local weather conditions. "What about the geology scans? If they were mining they should have built these facilities over the deposits. Depending on what was being mined that could screw up magnetic detectors."

"The gravity's slightly heavier than that of standard, but not overbearingly so." Zi Long replied. "Fortunately, other than the thin atmosphere, there had been no reports of wind, dust, rain or lightning storms of any type." He rubbed his chin. "You're right though. From old reports, the facilities were set up during the Star League era to mine for Palladium - a major raw material used in the fabrication of jump sails. Expect electromagnetic sensors to be screwed."

Seeker Class Dropship: “Event Horizon”
Nibo Royal Spaceport
Nibo City, Kingdom of Nibo
Nibo IV
12th August 3080
2030 hours local time

As they listened to the briefing, especially the bit about a certain lack of atmosphere, Henry Vargas took a moment to reach across and slap Patrick across the back of the head.

“Fat lot of good your Hiryo’s gonna do us now ya twat.”

“Quiet,” Markus growled, cutting off Patrick’s retort. It honestly seemed like he was leading a bunch of children sometimes. Special Forces… pff. Henry grinned and Patrick looked sulky. Markus didn’t much care at that point.

He was busy thinking about what he would do once they reached the ground. He had plenty of equipment to choose from, just no pilots. Thoughts swirled in his head. Would it be an assault or a stealth attack? Something else was bothering him too.

“How are we going to deploy? It seems like the only reliable transport we have is the Event Horizon itself. Makes it hard to co-ordinate three simultaneous attacks that way.”

"Pending a second round of orbital scans and on the ground recon, what I'm thinking of is to land our three groups secretly." Zi Long scanned the rest of the Stars in the room. "Based on the fact that we've been able to carry out our aerial fly bys unmolested and undetected means that either the pirates have no advanced warning and detection systems, no aerial assets other than the two grounded DropShips... or they simply don't care." He grinned. "A stupid AND careless enemy is Godsend any time of the day."

"We'll set ourselves up for a simultaneous assault." The mercenary officer explained. "We hit them at a coordinated timing to give them minimal time to react or to reinforce each other."

"From the intel we received from Nibo, as well as our own limited scans when we were last there, the pirates have a few light 'Mechs in the mountains where they're building that ridiculous castle. Given the terrain, they'd definitely have infantry forces as well. And these." The holo projection in the middle of the room zoomed in towards the mentioned pirate lair as Zi Long punched the commands. At the entrance of the lair, where construction works were being carried out, stood a Panther BattleMech. Next to its thin legs, a squad of what looked like Inner Sphere Standard Battle Armour troopers could be spotted. "Be prepared for anything in there though, we haven't had the chance to check it out yet, though space constrains should mean nothing heavier or larger than mediums 'Mechs in there, and not more than a lance in total."

The Taurian than keyed in another series of commands, bringing up a close up of the pirate Drop Port. "As for the airbase, there are less buildings that could hide anything else other than human beings. When we left the system, the Mule and Leopard were still there. Our scans also revealed the presence of a couple of Vedette as well as Manticore tanks. The former, running on internal combustion engines, would be nothing more than pillboxes - if their crew get to them in time during our attacks. The latter, however, would be a threat. Again, only if we allowed their crew to get to their rides." The image shifted to a cluster of the largest buildings. "We did not see any 'Mechs during our scans, but these buildings here are definitely large enough to hold a couple."

"The last and biggest of the three bases, based on what we've seen of their hardware, would most probably be housing the largest of the pirate bands." The image shifted again even as Zi Long continued his briefing. "There were no signs of any conventional vehicles, though we managed to spot the usual swarm of foot troops. What we DID spot were these." The image finally settled to reveal a massive Stalker assault 'Mech as well as a fifty ton Centurion. "Given the extensive number of buildings located here, we can be certain that they'd have more of these around."

"Once in system, the Event as well as all our available aerospace assets, including the Nibo Swords will carry out orbital scans and high altitude fly bys again to see if there's been any changes on the ground." Zi Long continued as the holo images reverted back once again to covering most of the planet. "Once we got as much as we can from these, we'll deploy the Jack O Lanterns for group recon so that we can fill in the blanks from whatever we got from bird's eye view. If absolutely necessary, we might even send in some of Trouble Inc.'s BA troopers even though they're not meant for scouting purposes, maybe the recon 'Mechs, or even infantry." Zi Long frowned. "I hate to send in our people when they're not exactly equipped to do it, but I hate going into a fight half blind even more."

Markus wasn’t entirely impressed with answer.

The briefing broke down into groups as sub-units discussed their separate objectives. Markus spoke to the Jack o’ Lanterns first.

“Well, there is no point in carrying the ECM gear or probes if the sensors are gonna be all screwed up anyway. Same goes for stealth armour, not a lot of point to that either. If we are going to be in close confines I want a bit more protection that the Nighthawks are gonna give us too. If we can sneak in though, that’s gonna give us one hell of an advantage.”

Michelle knew where he was headed, “What about mobility? I don’t know about the other guys but I prefer jets to get me the hell out of there when needed.”

Vincent shook his head, “Jets aren’t going to help us much when if we are underground, plus the ground speed will be nice if we get caught in the open.”

Henry grinned maliciously, “The plasma rifles will be a bitch against unarmoured infantry, not to mention the paired battle claws in close confines. Even if they do have some battle armour of their own they’ll have to see us first.”

Markus nodded, then led the conversation further along where he wanted it to go “Only thing we won’t be able to do is get up to our normal antics of setting traps and the like.”

Michelle rolled her eyes at him, she was getting used to Markus tricks, “So we go in with the Nighthawks first, I’m sure we can get a couple of hours free before the big push.”

“Are we decided then? Nighthawks to scout and do our thing then the Ying Longs if it comes to an assault?”

It was unanimous, although the new Hiryo crew looked crestfallen at being left out.

“Don’t worry you three, you can go in with Loch’s Lancers as foot troops if you like,” said Markus with a wolfish grin that matched Henry’s, “and speaking of, I need to go see Mr Lochnivar and see what his thoughts are, if he hasn’t been distracted by his crew again.”

“Hey, wait a minute, don’t count us out so quickly,” Yannick interjected before Markus had taken a step.

“Make it quick Yannick, what can you add to this?”

“We might not be able to fly, but the Hiryo can make a good base of operations. Park it, we’ll throw a camo enviro tent over the top and voila, you have your temporary repair and refit base,” Yannick looked very pleased with himself at the idea.

“Not bad. You three may prove useful yet. I’ll think it over and run it past Zi Long, but I think it will work. Patrick, you’ll need to train them in how to get the suits on and off of us quickly, you may need the help. Anything else? Good, now go play nice with the locals, who knows when we’ll get another chance at R&R, but stay off the damn Nibo Stars alright?”

August 13th, 3080
0210 hours, Local time
Collins Avenue, No. 23 Flat C
Slums
Nibo City, Nibo IV
Kingdom of Nibo

13-08-3080; 0210

Dear Diary.

I can’t believe my luck.

Just around this time last year they dropped me off the military academy (And it ain’t my fault either! How would I ever know that mom would chose just that time to elope with that no-good scoundrel of a ************? Right when it was time to pay the annual fees too…), and it’s been a whole year of living with ugly, smelly, drunk, and groping customers night after night at Steve’s place just to try make a living, but now it’s over. Over! Thank whichever god is up there. If you were to come down here I’d kiss you just for the heck of it!

Who would have thought that those mercs they were talking about would be looking for recruits right at Steve’s place? And right at my shift to boot! Four of us, some of the usual jimmies (didn’t think those two are MechWarrior… just looked that way), that old crone who always tipped generously (Bless her heart, and no offense, but I’m glad you’re not the one getting the job), and little old me. Didn’t think I’d get it either, the way that lady merc trashed me (and the rest of us, really… that lady’s good) over and over in the sims, but whaddya know? Sometimes the wheels of fortune do turn your way. Sometimes.

Can’t write much tonight. She said I should report over at the spaceport first thing tomorrow morning. Got to pack my stuff… cancel the rent, take a shower, a nap… So much to do, so little time… *sigh*

Oh well, at least there’s no more need to work at Steve’s place anymore.

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

13-08-3080; 0915

Wow.

Wow wow wow.

So much for all the rumours saying that this outfit’s nothing but a bunch of rejects and misfits! Couldn’t believe my eyes. These folks keep their DropShip cleaner than the academy cafeteria! And the gear…. Boy oh boy… You’d think that mercs would be running on gear about the level of our own armed forces, if not worse… not these folks… not much in terms of Mech, but if all their stuff are of that calibre, can’t see the need for having much either. Saw a freaking brand-new new-tech Marauder on my way to the cabin, one of those new buggers with the extra-light and rotaries and pulsers… never thought I’d live to see one in my whole life… *sniff*

Turns out I’d be working straight off with the same lady that did the recruiting last night. She seemed rather nice… although speaks kinda funny, and rather tense, but people who give you free time till the evening on your first day can’t be that bad. What you wouldn’t guess: She got her kid with her on board. Gotta be no more than four or so, lovable little angel that one. Come to think of it, these mercs do seem rather tight-knit, not like your usual rampaging bunch of wierdos… not saying we ain’t got wierdos here, but it’s kinda like… kinda like being in a big family, you know?

Speaking of which, they told me that they don’t do things the usual way here… said each group is a “sub-unit” or something like that, each with their own bosses, folks, and gear. Turns out the one I’m in is one of the newest one, not much in any of those, but guess that just ups my chances of getting a ride soon, eh? Not that much competition if there’s just four of us, and two aren’t even Mech jocks. Of course, I probably won’t be piloting anything till the boss buys another Mech, seeing how there’s only that Talon to pilot (and I hear even that is only in the unit on a loan or something like that), but I can wait.

The other girls in the unit are nice ones, if a bit odd, but you get all sorts of people in a merc unit, I’d think. That Erica girl was the one that called me over for the recruiting yesterday night, she seemed different today though… yesterday I’d swear that I’m looking as a pro card-shark, the way she was cleaning up those fat sack of blubbers on the poker table, but today… I dunno… she looked like… like there’s nobody home in there, you know?

Her pal “Sasha” (Though I learned later that her full name was Theresa), was the one who took me around and did most of the briefing, and to be frank, she’s probably the most normal out of the bunch in this sub-unit I got myself into. Of course, that is until she invited me to “join in” their little morning pre-breakfast sim regimen… I wasn’t in the sim pods, and was glad for it, because I might have pissed myself had I been in there while they were doing the flying… Which maniacs call a mach-3 flight through an underground tunnel an “appetizer for breakfast”!?

The scary thing is that they pulled through that sim without crashing too… and I didn’t think they ever slowed down one bit… *shudders*

Oh well, at least I know I won’t be subjected to that. Long live being a ground-pounder!

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

13-08-3080; 2215

Ouch.

Aina (That’s my boss, by the way) started my training regimen starting from the evening. Got to say one thing about her: she makes all those drill sergeants over at the military academy look like harmless little piglets cowering before the big bad wolf (or should I say falcon? She is from the Jade Falcons after all). I don’t think any of the instructors over at the academy ever managed to curse that much and drive someone so hard in a simulator session (not that I did that well… she fragged me in every single sim she took the reins on, though I did rather well against the simmed foes).

She said that there’ll be more training on the morrow, in particular, the physical part. I wonder what she meant by that. Oh well, one way or another I’ll find out tomorrow. Got to take a nap first…

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

14-08-3080; 2215

Life… of being a merc… turns out to be rather harder than how they always portray it in those vids…

Not saying that Aina’s a bad commander… far from it. I don’t think there’s many Mech instructors here in Nibo that could do better than her… but her way of “teaching” someone… it hurts…

First there was the sim sessions… those are the least painful part of the training… although it does hurt your feelings and eardrums the most. I couldn’t believe just how vast a vocabulary these people can get when it comes to cursing at trainees. And I thought drill sergeants have vast vocabularies… it’s like comparing the pocket dictionary with the Encyclopedia Nibonica, I tell you. Some of them I didn’t even understand one bit what they’re supposed to mean. Aina didn’t like how I couldn’t shoot too well if someone gets rather close to me… what can I say? Always been better at picking them off at range in the sims. She also keeps saying that I need to get used to moving fast, and by fast she wants me to hit the target with every shot while running a freaking Mongoose II at 129.6 kilometres an hour. I’m not bad at shooting… but that’s inhuman.

Or at least I thought it was… until she took over for one session and did just what she told me to do. She said I won’t be piloting for her until I can do the same… oh well… high standards are nice, though sometimes you wish they’d relax things a bit…

The “physical” training… at first it was pretty nice, just some time down at the shooting range. Aina even got some NK 88 PDWs for me (must have bought them recently. These ones are still factory-fresh), makes the training easy enough. Got used to those in the academy. It surprised me for sure that she also had her kid, little Diana, join in the training though, and more surprisingly, that little girl knows how to shoot… and probably shoots better than some of my classmates back in the academy.

The boss also seems to have an infatuation with firearms, considering just how much she carried on her when she goes out… I mean, carrying one or two is about normal, but two sub-machine guns, three handguns, and a dozen throwing knives is… well… overkill much? Wouldn’t want to be the mugger that tried to mug her in any dark alley to be sure.

She also insisted on hand-to-hand combat exercises though… and that’s about why I’m feeling like I’ve just been trampled by some half-dozen elephants drunk on Nibo Stars right now… Nobody in her unit gets to skip that, and frankly, as much as I hate to admit it, all of them knows how to beat someone up better than I do, even Erica (I got around six inches and at least twenty pounds on her… doesn’t seem to matter much though…).

The bright side to all this? She did not kick me out of the unit. Oh well. At least that’s one good side…

And to be frank… I’d rather be beaten up like this every night rather than work one more night at Steve’s place… (although returning there one day would be a good idea… I always wanted to give that one guy that keeps trying to grope at my butt a knuckle sandwich…)

Seeker Class Dropship: "Event Horizon"
Nibo Royal Spaceport
Nibo City, Kingdom of Nibo
Nibo IV
13th August 3080
0730 hours local time


"Just reviewing the notes from last night’s briefing, it looks like according to the scans were going to be taking on the equivalent of their spaceport. It looks like they have a Mule class DropShip and a Leopard. The Intel reports say they have reasonably good equipment to. That means we're going to have to contend with some firepower. They probably also have some Mechs, and some battle armour kicking around there somewhere. I know our battle armour has some serious firepower to it but, we might need some extra firepower. I'm thinking we might need to use the BattleMechs we have below in storage." James.

"Yeah, but we ain't got any pilots." Eugene.

"Yeah. That's the same problem I came up with. The answer is we need to find some pilots. Another thing to consider is if they have a Mule and a Leopard. They might have some aerospace assets that we will have to contend with." James.

"Oh Great." Eugene.

"What about air cover?" Eugene.

"It looks like Zhao is going to be allocating all the aerospace assets to cover our asses." James.

"You mean those two nut jobs for pilots that Aina has?" Eugene.

"Well, they might be, but would you qualify them as anything other than Black Star material?" James.

"I don't know boss they're out there even for Black Stars." Eugene.

"Yeah, but they're working for a Black Star, which means they are working for us, the family." James.

"That's true boss." Eugene.

"Probably wouldn't hurt to see if we can scrounge up an aerospace pilot." James.

"We are way the hell out here on the Periphery Boss. How much time we got to do all this?" Eugene.

"Zhao said he wanted to pull out within 72 hours." James.

"Shit! We're going to have trouble finding that kind of quality around here anywhere. Let alone trying to do it on 72 hours or less." Eugene.

"Guess we will won't be able to be too choosy then will we?" James.

"Probably not." Eugene

"Besides, worst-case scenario is, all we need them for is for one contract. If it works out for better than that, that's fine. If not, well... All we need to do is get through this one job." James.

"That's true, but that one job could mean a lot of problems." Eugene.

"That's understood to." James.

"Now, where about on this rock you think we can find Mech jocks?" James.

"Looks like to me we're going after do some pub crawling amongst other things. I don't think the locals will be too ah... happy if we try recruiting some of their talent away from them." Eugene

"It might not be too bad if we could get them on a lend-lease program." James.

"Maybe not, but I'm not sure we're going to be able to get that either." James.

"True. True. And if you want a pilot for that aerospace fighter of yours, that's going to be even more trouble. These guys pride themselves on keeping top-notch, top-quality talent around. And with the recent dustups they've had, you can see why they don't want to have anyone or any thing take any of 'em away from them now. And if those two that were assigned to us last time... " Eugene

"Oh, they're coming back. They're going with us this time to." James.

"If they are any sign of the quality of their talent. You're not going to find much better this site of Outworlds Alliance." Eugene.

"Ya, that's the impression I got to." James

"Then what do you suggest Boss?" Eugene.

"Well, somewheres around here there has to be at least one loose aerospace pilot we can lay our hands on." James.

"Where do you expect will find them?" Eugene.

"Well why don't we take a look where we always take a look, the drunk tank." James.

"All right, we'll start there" Eugene.

"I'm not sure what else we will be able to do but we will get her done." James.

"Well, let's start with some basics, we need three Mech pilots and an aerospace fighter pilot. Did you have a priority on that?" Eugene.

"Tell you what ... no we'll both keep an eye open for them. Worst-case scenario is we come up with an extra or two. That may not be too bad either." James

"You got a point there to." Eugene.

"Alright, let's get this thing done." James.
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Vampire

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Re: Contract 3A - More rumblings from the Deep Periphery (KoN Sup Contract)
« Reply #3 on: September 26, 2011, 06:13:45 AM »

Seeker Class Dropship: “Event Horizon”
Nibo Royal Spaceport
Nibo City, Kingdom of Nibo
Nibo IV
13th August 3080
0900 hours local time


David took another sip of his coffee and stared at the map again, comparing distances and terrain. Occasionally, he would enlarge a section of the map for a closer look.

Looking up, he glanced at Zhao. “I don’t think we want to just charge right in. My Marauder is built for tight terrain, but thinning out the enemy first might be a better move.”

"I've been thinking about it too. Remember Novo Franklin? While these pirates would most probably exhibit more tactical capabilities, I do think that if we make things desperate enough for them... I do not doubt the capabilities of our people, but I've had heard some of our people muttering that we're insane to split our forces in the face of numerically superior enemies." Zi Long sighed as he scanned the map again. "You've did a detailed study of the terrain and routes, any chance of us dealing with them piecemeal rather than going heads on? I'd REALLY like to fight on our terms instead of theirs."

Putting a finger down on the airstrip, David grinned. “When the others start the show off, I’d expect the Mine and the DropShips to scream bloody murder. But if the pirates have ANY brains at all, they’ll get whatever they have available moving for the airstrip ASAP. The mine, they can always retake, but if we get their Dropships… they’re stuck and they know it. So they’ll move to reinforce the ships with whatever they can.”

He moved his finger along a path between the airfield and the pirate’s main camp. “The least time path between the two camps runs along this way… right through this cut in the ridge. If this is correct, it has walls at least ninety meters high, and too steep to climb unaided.”

David moved his body so Zhao could see. “If we were to wire either end of the cut to collapse, we could potentially trap a portion of their force for an extended period of time, allowing us to deal with them at our leisure. Of course, when we did it, we’d want to be concealed nearby, to deal with any jumpers that thought to escape the trap.”

Zi Long nodded with a grin on his face. "With you and me both having heavier equipment, coupled with the fact that any jumpers these pirates have would most probably be lights, mediums at best, we should be able to slap down whoever tried to escape." He rubbed his chin with a frown. "You think they might be open to the idea of surrender?"

David shrugged. “Once we deal with the others, we come back to “discuss” things with them. If we have to, I think the threat of strafing runs the length of the gully would incline them to at least listen to our proposals.”

"Speaking of that, remind Lockheart and Aina that air-strikes against our friends should be avoided, or at least limited on an only if absolutely if necessary basis. We're being given full salvage rights here. I wanna be able to haul as much of their hardware away at the end of this - even if their low grade crap." The Chinese man snorted. "Heck, we might just have to make a visit to Nibo's scrap yard. I don't think even THEIR military would want some of the machines we've seen."

"Back to the issue." Zi Long looked at the map again. "The pirates could be trapped en masse, and yet think that their still considerable firepower, both against ground and air targets means that they would be able to hold their own." He laughed. "Heck, I don't discount the possibility of them using their 'Mechs and whatever combat vehicles to punch themselves out of their rocky trap."

David chuckled. “I suppose they could try that. I wouldn’t want to, but they might. Of course, shifting that many tons of rock to make a hole would take quite a bit of time, and using weapons fire has its own risks. Might just bring the whole wall down on your head.”

"Desperate times call for desperate measures. Though some people buckle under pressure into stupidity. If they really do bury themselves in the process, it'll save ourselves some ammo." Zi Long rolled his eyes as he thought back on some of the silliness he had seen during their lop sided win on Novo Franklin. "So... we get the others to start the fight at that ridiculous castle and air base, and set ourselves up to ambush their main base forces..." He looked at David. "Simple and effective. Shall we brief the others?"


Nibo City, Kingdom of Nibo
Nibo IV
City Intersection
13th August 3080
1100 hours local time

"Hey Hawk! We've been through every bar on this section of town, and we can't find a Mech Jockey anywhere. All the ones we found were attached and busy and not a loose one in sight." Constantine.

"Yeah and none of them were even too tight to be loose." Pee Wee

"Appreciate the help boys. It don't look like he doesn't have much to do on this next mission anyway, but we appreciate the help." Hawk.

"It helps the boss and the boss helps us, it's all family." Pee Wee.

"Don't know much, what else to tell you." Hawk.

"We will start looking over in this grid over here." Bo Peep.

"Okay. Sounds good." Hawk.

"And if you see, Wong or Whitman over there, they are supposed to be somewheres over near there, you can update them on what we've found so far." Hawk.

"You mean nothing?" Constantine.

"Yep. Nothing." Hawk.

<Time Break at another intersection>

"Hey Boss." Bremmerhof.

"Hey how's it going guys." James.

"We just finished our section. We didn't find anybody." Shakes.

"Yes. I just checked the two jails of the here and I didn't find anybody either. The best I could find is somebody that runs street sweeper. And I don't think they're going to need any sidewalks cleaned over where we're headed." James.

"Ha ha ha... Probably not boss." Shakes.

"But, given our normal mission parameters they will definitely need a cleaning crew to clean up after us." Shakes.

"Ha ha ha... there's some truth in that statement too." James

"Well, you guys can move on to the next group, I have a few more jails to check out." James.

Nibo City, Kingdom of Nibo
Nibo IV
5th Precinct Jail
13th August 3080
1230 hours local time



James was at a police station talking to the man in charge of the desk.

"Good afternoon sir, I was wondering if you might be able to help me." James.

"What do you need, Mister...?" Desk Sergeant.

"I was looking for a Mech jock. You wouldn't happen to have one of them in your guest quarters back there with you?" James.

A guy got a brief chuckle out of that.

"I thought you guys would be looking for Mech jock's through a recruitment hall. Or is this one of yours that got loose. " Desk Sergeant.

"That's one recruiting hall." James.

"On more than one occasion, these have been another. I know I have people checking the other ones. So I thought it, might be, worth it to check this one too." James.

"Well, we might have somebody in here that fits that description." Desk Sgt.

"That would be nice. Would it be possible to talk to them." James.

"We might be able to arrange something, but...." Desk Sgt.

"Not even for a relative?" James.

While James is saying this, he slid a small handful of credits across the counter.

"Well, you know, relatives are relatives. One should take care of family. Let's see what we can arrange." Desk Sgt.

The credits quickly disappeared underneath a clipboard.

A few moments later, James got escorted back to the detention cells. Most looked to be common citizens. The guard pointed to one cell. The guy in there was a semi-reclined on the bed leaning up against the wall. He looked at James a little bit when he saw him peeking in.

"I hear you're a Mech warrior." James.

The guy inside the cell looked at him a little bit more and then spoke up.

"You are looking for somebody else, I think." Guy .

James paused.

"How so?" James.

The man sat up and put his feet on the floor and then looked at James.

"I do not know how to pilot a Mech Signor. " Guy.

"Oh?" James.

"I was told that you were a pilot." James.

"Si signor, I am a pilot. But only aerospace fighters not Mechs." Guy.

James paused with that.

"I see." James.

"Just curious. Where did you pilot aerospace fighters?" James.

"A little here, a little there." Guy.

"Any units I might have heard of?" James.

"Not so much, I think." Guy.

"Just curious, what brings you to here?" James.

"Well signor, I came this way looking for work. Unfortunately, I not find work yet. But if what you're asking what brings me into here. It is fate, I think." Guy.

"Fate?" James.

"I like to drink, especially when I have no job. But without a job. It is difficult to pay for the drink. So I think it is fate that bring me here." Guy.

"Seems a long way to come out to here to find a job as an aerospace pilot. There would be a lot more jobs on the planets back towards the core worlds." James.

"Si signor, but I heard there were some excellent work out this way. And I was not that far away. So I thought I would stop and take a look." Guy.

"So where do you think you're going after here?" James.

"I am not sure signor, if I can find work. I will work. If not, I will drink. Fate will find me work or drink. It all depends on how it feels." Guy.

"I see. You got a name?" James.

"Si signor. My name is Carlos. Carlos Piña." Guy/ Carlos Piña.

"I see. Nice to meet you Carlos." James.

"Have a nice day Signor." Carlos Piña.

"And you as well, Carlos" James.

With that James turned and walked out. The guard fell into step with him and escorted him back out to the front. James stopped and stood beside the desk when he got there.

"What's he in for?" James.

"He has a bar bill." Desk Sgt.

"How bad were the damages to the bar?" James

"Huh? No damage. He just doesn't have the money to pay the bar bill." Just Sgt.

"I see." James.

"So are you interested in the Mech pilot?" Desk Sgt.

"Possibly. How much is the bill?" James.

The Desk Sgt. paused looked at the computer screen for a moment like he was reading something from it.

"The cost is about 500." Desk Sgt.

"Mmmm . I take it, somebody will be around soon to bail him out?" James.

"Probably not. He didn't seem to have any friends at the bar, and he has already been here a week. So I doubt it. There are also the daily fees for him being here. Those are another 250." Desk Sgt..

"Thank you sir, I think we might actually be in touch later." James.

"I'll be here." Desk Sgt.

With that, James strolled out the door back onto the street. How good he was James wasn't sure. But an unattached aerospace fighter pilot with debts was usually a good starting point. They could quickly find out whether or not he had any talent. As for the 500 for the bar bill, at any kind of decent recruitment hall the fees would've been much higher. So James left. He still had places to go. He was still in need of three Mech Warriors and as of now, he still didn't have a lead to find any of them. So James kept looking. James hit the streets. He still had a couple more places to check out. He decided to try a couple of the churches near the spaceport. Given the line of work they were in, it wasn't difficult to believe that a Mech warrior would be trying to seek some religion to help them through a fight. There was an ancient adage that there are no atheists in fox holes, ringing in the back of his mind. Yeah, he tried couple of churches in spaceport. Maybe the priests there might have a lead.

<Scene break> Alice, Gunther, Wong

Time 14:05

Scene open a bar named The Fuzzy Optics



"Man, my dogs are tired. I've never done so much walking in my life." Wong .

"I remember a few times when my helicopter was broke down, I had a few pretty long walks to get back to get parts for it." Alice.

Gunther's comment was more to the point "I don't remember having to walk this far before either, but what I know is I'm thirsty!"

When the waitress came around, Gunther ordered a pitcher of beer.

When Wong looked at him.

"Hey, only to quench the thirst. This will just cool off the feet then we will be able to get back and look some more." Gunther.

When the waitress came back Gunther eyed her up and down. She was probably in her late 40s, stringy blond hair, and a look that said she'd been on the serious end of way too many years. Having seen more than her fair share of a lot of lifetimes.

Gunther reached out and grabbed the glasses that came with the pitcher and poured each of them a glass.

"Here, drink up guys." Gunther.

They stopped, and each grabbed a glass and started sipping. Gunther drained about half of his with the first swallow, and then slowed down and started sipping. A little something to help take the edge off. For probably the next hour they sat there sipping a beer and enjoying the cool dark atmosphere in the bar. There wasn't a lot of people in here yet. It was still early in the day, about 3 PM. When they had pretty much finished their beer. The waitress was coming over again. She asked if they if they were all set and whether or not, there was anything else she could bring them.

Gunther put on a smile and said "you must know all the people that come through here."

She looked him up and down and said "Maybe, why?"

"We were looking for some Mech warrior pilots. You haven't seen any through here recently, perchance?" Gunther.

"And what would you want with them?" Waitress.

Gunther held up his hands in a sign of surrender and said "My boss actually have some work for one if any were around."

"Work huh?" Waitress.

Wong spoke up. "Yeah, employment."

She gave Wong a quick sizing up and then looked over at Alice. The immediate thought that flashed through her mind was. She was way too young to even be in here probably even too young to be drinking, but the other two she was with weren't. And never cross a paying customer when they want a drink. Especially when the law wasn't anywhere near as strict about that around here. And she had company. They all seem to wear the same unit patch. The other thing was that she didn't see anything wrong in Alice's face that would lead her to believe that there was anything in the story that wasn't true. The older guy could be a difficult read. The other guy. She couldn't be too sure of. But this young girl's face was still pretty much an open book. If there was any trouble. So either she was very good or it was legit.

She looked back at Gunther "don't know of any."


"If any happen to wander through that are actually looking for some work, you wouldn't be adversed to dropping our name would you?" Gunther.

"Maybe not." Waitress.

Gunther stared her straight in the eye.

"We are in port for about another 48 hours before we have to ship out. So if any happen to stop in between now and then, appreciate you making the mention." Gunther.

With that Gunther put about 100 Nibo credits on the table and stood up. He knew the pitcher would be more than 20. She saw the money on the table and looked at him.

Gunther turned and said "if any want to head over our way. Just tell them to ask for the Black Stars, and Lt. Lockheart."
Logged

Vampire

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Re: Contract 3A - More rumblings from the Deep Periphery (KoN Sup Contract)
« Reply #4 on: September 26, 2011, 06:15:19 AM »

Outside, Military Supply and Logistics Office
Nibo City, Kingdom of Nibo
Nibo IV
13th August 3079
1300 hours local time

“It was a good idea, you can’t fault Yannick for that.”

Markus glared at Michelle, all the more peeved for the fact that she was right. They had just spent the last couple of hours getting shuffled around from one paper pusher to the next, each one progressively less and less helpful.

“One damned enviro tent, it can’t be that hard could it? We’d pay for the damn thing,” Markus grumbled.

Michelle smiled slyly, it was funny how the voice of reason changed its host within their little group.

“One damned BIG enviro tent you mean. Look, they are still rebuilding after the last set of mercs attacked them. What did you expect? A cup of tea and a hug? The plan will still work, we just can’t use the Hiryo in the process,” Michelle told him.

“I know that, but it increases the turnaround time between getting out of the Nighthawks and into the Ying Longs, which cuts down our playtime in the Nighthawks, which I think we will need. It’s just us and some infantry, Michelle, we aren’t used to being the heavy firepower,” Markus was in a pensive mood, and hadn’t quite pinned down why.

“Yeah, that’s bothering me too, but we’ll have Dragon for support…”

A sharp, barked laugh from Markus cut Michelle off.

“Dragon? That washed up excuse for a Death Commando? Bah, I’ll just be happy if she doesn’t shoot us!” Markus shook his head.

“Easy, Markus. Remember the rules, Zi Long hired her, so she’s his responsibility, and she seems to have done alright so far,” Michelle said, almost as if trying to convince herself. Both the Lyrans had issues trusting the ex-Capellan agent.

“Fine, but… oh this is just great.” Markus was looking over Michelle’s shoulder at five large figures that had just exited the supply office and were heading toward the pair with purposeful strides and flat expressions.

“Sergeant Jackson?” the lead figure asked, who also happened to be the eldest by a fair margin.

No-one with the Black Stars addressed Markus by rank, so hearing it out in the open like that took him by surprise. He considered the man for a second before answering.

“Depends who is asking.”

“Captain Nathaniel Haberfast, Nibo Defence Force,” the elder man stated, and took the edge off the situation by extending his hand for a handshake, rather than salute.

Markus took the proffered hand and shook it briefly, noting the Captain’s firm, honest grip, and decided for no good reason that he liked him, perhaps because of the lack of friendliness they had encountered that morning.

“Please, call me Markus.”

“Thank you, Markus,” the Captain replied, “May I take a few minutes of your time?”

The courtesy shown to him now, after the lack shown previously, put Markus a little on his guard despite the good feeling he got about Captain Haberfast. He got the immediate impression that he wanted something, which, of course, was quite correct.

“We were just heading back to the Spaceport, you are more than welcome to walk with us.”

The Captain nodded, and the group set off. The other four newcomers, quite obviously infantry from the uniform and the way they held themselves, dropped back about fifteen metres then advanced in formation to follow their Captain. Michelle took up a position on the Captain’s opposite shoulder, which he appeared slightly uncomfortable with, but continued to speak anyway.

“While we don’t completely understand the Black Stars’ chain of command, we do know that you are made up of a series of units operating under the Black Star umbrella. We have also discovered that you run a small group of Battle Armour, and we would like to ask a favour…

Holding up a hand, Markus interrupted the Captain’s speech, “Excuse me Captain, but the official channels for this sort of thing are through Zi Long and Ten-Bears. You should talk to them.”

“That is true, but would you hear me out before you send me on my way.?”

“Of course Captain, please continue.”

Haberfast looked pointedly at Markus, “You know the history, we are still rebuilding from our disastrous war, and being a progressive military we are looking at ways to improve as we do it. As part of that we have acquired a number of squads of Battle Armour, mainly Inner Sphere Standard suits, but we are only just learning how to deploy them. The men behind you are some of our best troopers, and each has been selected to lead a squad. Problem is, there is only so much you can learn from simulators.”

Markus rolled his eyes, “Let me get this straight. You want me to take a squad of your Battle Armour and give them some combat experience against the pirates.”

The Captain smiled, “Almost, Markus, almost. Only thing is, I could only get authorisation to send the troopers with you, not their equipment.”

At this Markus cracked a smile, and then chuckled quietly. Captain Haberfast also smiled, and shrugged his shoulders. Michelle simply looked thoughtful, and cast a glance back at the four dour looking men behind them.

Haberfast continued, “I know it is a big ask, but extra bodies are never a bad thing. You can put them through their paces in the sims yourself and if they don’t stack up to your evaluation you can leave them in reserve. Your choice. I have to admit though, we are also interested in evaluating some new equipment. Battle Armour is expensive and it is not easy justifying them to the brass.”

“Trouble Inc. has more general purpose gear than I do, why not go to them?” Michelle cut in.

“I understand that, Corporal Edwards, but they are also fully manned up. Plus, a smaller group would allow for more intensive training. There would also be some compensation forthcoming,” Haberfast added the last with a sly grin.

At this Markus shook his head and chuckled again, “Let me guess, one large enviro tent. Ok, let me think about it. Michelle, take those four and put them through their paces. You have two hours so make it snappy. Captain, if one of those four so much as talk back to Edwards here the deal is off, understood?”

The Captain nodded.

“Ok, you’ll hear from me before the end of the day. I expect the enviro tent to be delivered before then.”

“The tent is being loaded onto the Event Horizon as we speak.”

“Very organised. Pleasure doing business with you Captain.”

The two men shook hands again and parted ways. Michelle lingered for a moment, knowing further instructions were forthcoming.

“Give ‘em hell, Michelle. I mean really get stuck into them, swear, yell, run them hard for an hour so they are knackered when they get in the sim, then grind ‘em for another hour. If they complain, talk back or falter they’re staying here, understood?”

Michelle nodded, “I get it, I know what I am doing, remember?”

“Good, now go have some fun.”


<Scene break: A few hours later back at the Event Horizon>

Markus was sitting outside the Event Horizon, leaning against a landing strut and enjoying the last of the sunshine when a jeep approached and Michelle jumped out. The jeep remained stationary as she approached the DropShip.

“Well?” Markus asked.

“They are fit, I have to give them that. They don’t complain either. Pretty good foot soldiers all up,” Michelle reported, then hesitated.

“But?”

“But they don’t have much time in the suits. I’d say first, maybe second year academy level at best.”

Glancing at the jeep that still hadn’t moved, Markus pondered this for a moment.

“Are they good enough to not shoot themselves or us?” he asked.

Michelle nodded, “I think so, they were very careful of their shots. They know they aren’t that good.”

“I guess we can stick them in the Void’s then. The Magshot is easy enough to use on the arm mount, and the battle claw is dead simple. They can lead the charge with Loch’s infantry after we sneak in and create some mayhem behind the lines. Thoughts?”

“What about the jump booster?” Michelle countered, “That can be hard to handle.”

“More sim time will take care of that,” Markus stated simply.

Standing, Markus waved toward the jeep, then nodded his head. Almost immediately another vehicle sped out from a nearby hangar. Captain Haberfast was both organised and optimistic it seemed.

“Take a break, I’ll get them stowed and tell them the rules.”

“Gladly. I hope you know what you are doing. Patience and training were never your strong points,” Michelle told him.

“I know, lucky I have you then isn’t it. Now get out of here. The recruits and I are going to spend a little bonding time together.”

An evil grin accompanied the last statement, and this time it was Michelle’s turn to roll her eyes. As she walked away she started wondering if the four Nibo troopers would survive to make it off planet, let along though combat against the pirates…

Nibo City
Nibo IV
13 August 3080
13:48 Local Time

James had just left the third chapel. I guess you would call it near the spaceport. The priest had been nice and friendly as such, but he didn't have any useful information. Now if you are looking for a worker for a drop ship or a jump ship, the guy mentioned at least a half dozen names. Freight handlers, at least a dozen more. But nothing in the way of Mech Warriors. That and Nibo didn't care too much for mercenaries that were ... unattached. But according to the public access terminal that he found, there were still a few more religious institutions that he had yet to visit.

James continued on. This next one didn't look much from the outside. An old fieldstone building which is a little surprising given the more urban architecture around it which would lend to age, but overall, this one wasn't highly impressive looking. Just a couple of small stained-glass windows, nothing ornate, nothing really fancy and a small simple stone sculpture in the front yard. It was made out of field stone and nothing more exotic, which was the type of stone, he had seen with a lot of the others. But as a mercenary, James was hoping he would see things the same I guess others would was a small solid stone structure. One that brought to mind the word safe, and Fortress. Given though it was neither of these. James proceeded up the front walk to the front door. Is made of wood with black beaten metal bands. The would have a high gloss finish on it as though it had been cared for - for a long time.

James opened the door and entered the dimly lit facility. It took a moment for his eyes adjust, while he stood just inside the doorway. When he could see well enough, he proceeded down the front central aisle of the church. As he looked around, he didn't see anybody in the facility. The one thing he learned from the other places he had visited so far was that these guys like to wait in the wings. Watching people, sizing them up before approaching them. When he got to the front he stood there and waited. After a minute or so he detected some movement out of the corner as eye, approaching from off on his left. When the man was halfway to James. He altered course from cutting across through the pews to around front. It would have been hard to mistake Jame's appearance and mannerisms as anything other than military. So maybe this guy understood that it wasn't safe to approach from such an oblique angle. If that was the case, James surmised, things may be looking up. As soon as the man reached the front of the church and before he got to James. James was starting to size him up. And older gentleman, white hair, receding hairline, a little shy of 2 m and about 75 kg. The hair was done nice. The face radiated calm and peace. His outfit was a basic black. A black tunic over black khakis, a black robe and some sort of chain necklace.

The man stopped about a pace that half away from James and asked "May we be of assistance?"

"We?" James said raising an eyebrow

The man smiled a warm and open smile and casually raised his arms out to his side just a little bit.

When he said "why our Caretaker and his poor humble instrument, myself."

With that, his arms fell back to his side.

James smiled a little smile. One that barely touched his cheeks. Then James began again. He had almost got this down given the number of religious institutions he had visited in the last few hours.

"Well sir, my name is James Lockhart, and I'm a mercenary with the Black Stars." James.

James watched the other guy still calm, still passive and a smile on his face. He was listening quite attentively. James wondered if it was too attentive.

"Well sir, how can we be of assistance." Man.

"I can understand the mercenary life being rough and many a troubled mind within its groups." Man.

James smiled again, a little more this time, but still not touching his cheeks.

"Well sir, you may think I'm strange, coming to a place of peace..." James.

"No sir, I do not think that it is strange." Man.

"You might consider it that way tell you I came looking for warriors. Looking to hire Mech warriors to be more specific." James.

The priest was a little bit taken aback, but not overly so. The priest looked at him calmly and responded.

"That is a bit different." Man.

"It's like you said, mercenary life can create all kinds of issues. The seeking of calm…I thought that mercenary warriors, having seen what they've seen, that some might actually seek what you have to offer. And that actually seeking warriors in a place of peace might actually be a place to find them." James

"Your argument has an interesting reverse sense of logic." Man.

"I've been to a few other places today as well and they thought so too." James.

"I am not sure I can help you child. This is ...definitely goes against the basic principles of our order. We are a group of peace." Man.

"I can understand that sir." James.

James had noticed the man, noticing the unit patch on the sleeve of his black leather duster. He thought he saw recognition in the man's eyes before he had said that.

"I know, I had also heard from the other places that I have been today, that the Nibo Intelligence Services have been busy searching and scouring the planet. I'll also be honest, I can respect and accept the criticism and suspicions you may have of me and my request." James.

"But I am who I say I am. I do work for the Black Stars. And we are currently under contract with the government of Nibo. We do have an off world assignment for which we will have to depart for very shortly. You can check on those if you would like. I find myself in need of some Mech warrior pilots. If you happen to know of any that are looking for work, I would be appreciative if you could mention my name and the unit name. They will be able to find us at the spaceport, with no trouble at all." James.

James had conveniently left out the name of their DropShip the Event Horizon on purpose. That ship’s reputation had preceded itself throughout most of the inner sphere and was even reaching out ahead of itself, here in the periphery as well. So no need to create any more fear or panic, if it wasn't necessary.

James reached into his pocket and pulled out 200 Nibo credits and handed it to the gentleman. The man looked at it.

"A donation for causes that you find worthy." James.

The man casually reached up and quite deftly emptied the hand of the 200 credits, and with a smile on his face.

"Thank you, my child. May the caretaker provide for you in your times of need." Man

James nodded and as he started to turn he realized he didn't have an address for the next place on his list. He asked.

"Excuse me sir, would you happen to know where I can find the First Druidic Temple Reformed? I don't seem to have an address for them." James.

"Certainly my child." Man.

Then he proceeded to give James a simplistic set of instructions that would lead him to about a quarter of the way across town. James thanked the man and walked out. He paused just outside the door to let his eyes grow accustomed to the light again before proceeding. Once his eyes had acclimated. He turned and started making his way along the way given by the directions. Hopefully along the way he would either find a bus or a cab so that he might be able catch a ride because he was sure he didn't want to walk as far as the directions he had been given indicated it was going to be.

Back inside the church, after the curious man in a black long coat had left. Shepherd Book decided that this was strange enough that he should report it. He walked back out of the main sanctuary into one of the back rooms. He opened the comm line to a small office on the other side of town. This was where all of this church's bookkeeping was done. Once a comm line on the other end had opened up. He spoke to a small, older and frail looking man. He was the head of the order on this planet. The old man calmly listened while Shepard Book relayed his conversation with a interesting man named James Lockhart. The old man sat back in his chair and steepled his hands while he listened to the story being relayed to him. After Shepherd Book was done, the old man looked at him with an eye of scrutiny.

"Do you believe him?" Old Man

And the Shepherd looked at him. "I think so."

The old guy nodded slowly and briefly "hmmm very curious. Thank you for reporting this. Don't go running off too far."

With that the old man closed the comm channel.

After that, the old man reached over and opened another comm channel.

The face and a voice on the other end of the comm channel said. "Your Holiness, how can we be of assistance."

"I need to speak to your boss." His Holiness.

"Right away sir. I'll let him know immediately sir. If you will hold for a moment." Obvious Assistant.

A moment later, an older man in his mid-50s, appeared on the view screen. He had strong chiselled features. A very rugged looking jaw with a cleft chin. His black hair was combed straight back in a slightly wavy form and silver was starting at both temples.

"Your Holiness, and what do I own the honour of this call?" Distinguished Gentleman

"My son. I need you to check on something for me. Depending on the results, I may have an idea of how the Great Caretaker might be able to assist you." His Holiness

"All you have to do is, but ask." Distinguished Gentleman .

"I need to know about a man named James Lockhart. He is supposed to be part of a mercenary group called the Black Stars. He says, they have a contract with the Nibo government, off world and will be leaving shortly. I need to know about the man, the group and the validity of his statements." His Holiness

The man on the other end of the comm line had a stolid face until he had heard the request. Then he said. "Right away sir. I'll get right on that."

With that he cut the comm line. An hour later, the comm line in a small office beeped. His Holiness, casually reached out to take it.

"Your Holiness. I had to call in some sizable favours, but I made the inquiries as you requested. There is indeed a mercenary group called the Black Stars on planet. They are indeed under contract to the Nibo government. My source tells me that they are about to leave for deep space. My source commented that the matter of their contract was ...highly classified." Distinguished Gentleman

"Indeed." His Holiness

"But I did manage to get an answer out of him. He did let slip that they had just returned from a deep space mission running as escorts for an expeditionary group which included archaeology and survey teams." Distinguished Gentleman

"So they have finished their contract." His Holiness.

"Yes, your Holiness, that one. But apparently they were quickly re-signed to do another job. The expeditionary force is being left behind this time. And given the nature of things. I am being led to believe that this one is a combat operation. I suspect they are going pirate hunting." Distinguished Gentleman

"Hmmm, very interesting. And this man?" His Holiness.

"According to my source, this man, James Lockhart is a part of the mercenary unit. He is a lieutenant. Apparently the Black Stars are more based as a business collective group than as a full military structure. He runs a small subgroup within the military command called Trouble Inc. And the reports are that he has a helicopter fleet, a sizable battle armour force and three BattleMechs." Distinguished Gentleman

"Hmmm, also curious." His Holiness.

"My understanding is they are considered the black sheep of the mercenary industry. They are legitimate, but they are not very discriminating on who they take." His Holiness

"Yes your Holiness, but how do you think this will..." Distinguished Gentleman.

"The interesting thing about some military groups, and specifically these Black Stars, is that a few of them actually offer new identities to their members as long as they serve loyally." His Holiness

There was a pregnant pause on the other end of the comm line, before the man started to speak.

"I see. Oh! I see." Distinguished Gentleman

"Of course it would take quite a deal of political wrangling, and maybe, just maybe this is part of the Great Caretaker's plan." His Holiness.

"I do indeed hope so, your Holiness." Distinguished Gentleman

"Of course this may take more than just religious good reasons to influence this matter." His Holiness.

"I understand your Holiness, and you have my wholehearted support on this." Distinguished Gentleman

"Thank you child, and may the Great Caretaker watch over you. I will see what I can do." His Holiness.

With that, his Holiness closed the comm channel. He then opened another one back to Shepherd Book.

"Yes, your Holiness." Shepherd Book

"Ah, Shepherd Book, do you think that you might be able to locate this. Mr. Lockhart?" His Holiness.

"He did ask directions for another church. I'm sure it was to continue his search for Mech warrior pilots." Shepherd Book

"Yes. Would you be able to get him back to your church?" His Holiness.

"I can leave a message at church he is supposed to be heading for. He might still be there. He might not yet have arrived. It was a fair distance from here." Shepherd Book

"Good. As soon as you get him there, let me know. I would like to have a chat with Mr. Lockhart." His Holiness.

"Yes your Holiness. I'll take care of that once." Shepherd Book

With that, his Holiness cut the comm line, sat back in his chair and steepled his fingers. He had some thinking to do.
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Re: Contract 3A - More rumblings from the Deep Periphery (KoN Sup Contract)
« Reply #5 on: September 26, 2011, 06:15:43 AM »

Nibo City
Nibo IV
13 August 3080
15:04 Local Time

James calmly waited for Shepherd Book to appear. After about five minutes. James started to get just a little bit... restless. Of course James had been around, the military long enough to know, everything moves at its own pace, slow. Until things were in the fire, and then things moved really fast. Since James hadn't seen anybody on the way in, he was curious as to what would be slowing them down. He proceeded to wait and sip some more of the water. Of course, what he really wanted was a cold beer. Fat chance of getting that here. That and for his left leg to stop bothering him for a little while. He wasn't used to this much walking and it was taking its toll.

In a few more minutes, Shepherd Book showed up. He greeted James with a warm smile and said "glad to see you could get back so quickly, I apologize for the delay. There was some business that I needed to attend to." He then proceeded to make small talk with James for the next few minutes. Of course, James was just hoping for some names and or a location. But the shepherd had some other ideas of how he wanted things to go. Since the man potentially had what James wanted, he didn't feel he could really push matters.

After a few more minutes. There was a light knock at the door. Then the door was open. James watched this very old and frail looking man enter. All he had left were wisps of hair on the sides and back of his head. He wore the same black shirt and black pants that the shepherd wore. His black smock coat, though, was adorned with yellow trim around the lapels and collar. The old man moved with slow, tiny, plodding steps. James was wondering what this old guy had wanted that he would interrupt the meeting. That was until James saw his eyes. They were very clear, very bright and very sharp and shrewd looking. James saw the man looking at him I eyeing him, sizing him up. Upon seeing the old man enter, Shepherd Book almost immediately jumped up from his seat and moved around to greet the old man. He even called him, his Holiness.

Well, that would answer a few questions. James thought to himself. This is Shepherd Book's boss. It took a few more minutes to get his latest into a comfortable chair where he sat facing James.

"Good afternoon Mr. Lockhart. So nice of you to be able to come back and join us today." His Holiness.

"Good afternoon sir." James responded.

"Shepherd Book contacted us with your interesting request. You have to admit, it is an unique request." His Holiness.

"Well, I am appreciative of the Shepherd Book's interest in helping me out." James

"Shepard Book didn't know any immediate candidates, but I on the other hand might know where we might find a couple of them. But, these matters are a little delicate shall we say." His Holiness.

James was a little nervous with the way his Holiness had phrased his responses.

"How so?" James.

"First, I hope you don't mind if I ask you a few questions?" His Holiness.

"No. Go right ahead." James.

"I've heard that the Black Stars are usually willing to accept people who have had troubles in their past through no fault of their own." His Holiness.

"Actually, sir. I think you'll find that that practice is common in most mercenary units. Though a lot of them won't advertise it." James responded.

"I see." His Holiness.

"How does this... work." His Holiness.

James was getting real sure he wasn't liking the direction this was starting.

"Look sir, I'm not entirely sure where your questions are going. What I have is a legitimate job for some legitimate Mech warriors ." James.

"Look Mr. Lockhart, I happen to know where a pilot might actually be available. The problem is... that... he had some trouble due to a girl. You can understand how those sort of things can happen." His Holiness

Trouble and girl are keywords that James had heard before.

"So the girl’s family is connected." James.

"Mmmmmm. Not exactly." His Holiness said.

"Then how exactly would you phrase this?" James.

"Actually, his family are good parishioners." His Holiness

James immediately translated "good parishioners" as being healthy contributors. i.e., wealthy people. And this old man knows it and knows that the healthy contributions might change if things weren't aided.

"Then tell me. Is this guy a decent quality Mech pilot?" James.

"Well , Mr. Lockhart, he had a commission waiting for him." His Holiness.

"Sir, I'm not sure I'm going to be able to help you. You seem to be very reluctant with your information. The Black Stars don't hunt trouble." James.

"Alright Mr. Lockhart, I see don't like quibbling over such things. Let's look at it this way. A boy, a good lad, meets a girl she is somewhat questionable past, leads the poor boy astray, and now he has some legal troubles that go with it. I was hoping we might be able to help each other. I was looking for a way to get the poor boy a second chance." His Holiness.

"Can I meet, your boy? There are a few questions I would like to ask him." James.

"Well see that's part of the problem. The trouble was serious enough that he has sort of gone into protective custody." His Holiness.

"Mister, I'm going to need some straight answers before I can tell you if I can help you or not." James.

"You can understand my need for discretion." His Holiness.

"I can understand your position, sir. But you have to understand mine. Undue baggage can be detrimental. So unless I know what I'm getting into. I don't know if I want to take the risk. So, if you don't want to share, then I am afraid I can't help." James.

With that James got up and started to leave.

"Please, Mr. Lockhart, sit down." His Holiness.

James sat back down. Though his eyes hardened a little bit, when he looked at the man sitting in the chair across from him.

"Alright Mr. Lockhart" he said with a small sigh "I am going to entrust you with this piece of information. Also, with the understanding that you will respect the delicate nature of the material." His Holiness

"The boy met up with a girl. The girl had a questionable past..." his Holiness.

"What kind of a questionable past?" James.

"You have heard of the recent trouble we have had." His Holiness.

"I don't remember hearing anything about any kind of religious problems." James.

"I'm not talking about religious problems." His Holiness.

With that James was taken aback a little bit. The only other problems that Nibo had had recently was with the armaments manufacturing company Quickcell. Quickcell, and their alleged fronting of pirate bands to attack Nibo. Then James started getting an inkling of what's going on.

"The only other problems I've heard of recently are with pirates." James

"Yes, Mr. Lockhart, we have had problems with pirates lately. If my sources are correct. You are about to go back and deal with some." His Holiness.

James was a little shocked. The mission was classified. How did a priest hear about that... well, a high ranking priest. James had hoped he had hidden his surprise at that revelation.

"Well sir, you know, I cannot comment on what our contract might or might not be for." James.

"Yes, yes, classified and all that." His Holiness.

"But I'm not exactly sure how this relates to information you're giving me." James.

"Well, Mr. Lockhart. It seems the girl was a special consultant for Quickcell. She managed to use, well, whatever means she used on this poor boy who seems to have been on the wrong side of a recent scuffle." His Holiness.

"And this protective custody?" James.

"He is in prison Mr. Lockhart." His Holiness.

"Well, a man with your connections sir should be able to get that changed." James.

"Given the level of incidents in recent days. There were a lot of summary judgments rendered, and unfortunately, that one was beyond my ability to influence." His Holiness.

James had heard enough stories on the last trip out and back that pirates caught are being executed left and right. No mercy for their crimes.

"Are you saying this man is still in prison?" James.

"Due to the delicate nature of his connections. The government has deemed it fit not to make his trial public knowledge, or his sentence. They have been biding their time waiting for things to blow over before carrying out his sentence." His Holiness.

"So how exactly do you expect me to be able to help you?" James

"The government is also in a predicament. If pushed right now, it could cause some severe political repercussions for them. Now, expecting that I might be able to mediate a solution that all parties involved would be happy with. But that will all come back to you Mr. Lockhart." His Holiness

"How do you mean?" James.

"In truth, the government finds this so embarrassing they would like this whole thing to go away, but are being held to the legal and moral codes of our society." His Holiness

"I don't claim to understand, world politics here on Nibo." James.

But James was beginning to see. Besides, the parishioners being healthy supporters, they were also politically connected. Funny how wealth and politics seem to play together. The family found out that their son screwed up and bought himself a death sentence. This made it a political nightmare for them. Also, most likely a political nightmare of the government if they had to bring this families son up for an execution all of which are being publicly displayed, from what he had gathered.

If this old guy was connected well enough, then James was beginning to see where this was going. The old man was trying to broker a deal. The boy quietly disappears with a new identity, making the political government happy. The boy mysteriously turned up with a new identity and the family would be happy their son escaped a death sentence. This old guy would be happy with the reputation this deal would add to him, and he would get quite a sizable amount of contributions out of it. All James would get out of it is a Mech pilot. So, what he was getting was not in line with what the others were going to get out of this. Especially not for the potential risk. So far he was the only one, but the old priest had mentioned a potential second.

"Please Mr. Lockhart. By all reports you are an intelligent man. Surely you can see what I'm driving at." His Holiness

"I'm still going to have to be able to ask this guy a few questions." James.

The old man casually reached into his smock coat and pulled out a small chip.

"Here is his entire documented file. If you have any further questions after that I might be able to get them answered. I need to know Mr. Lockhart is this something that you might be able to assist us with?" His Holiness

James was hard up. He had a sizable investment riding on this next job. So far, this is the only Mech warrior he has been able to find. One with a questionable loyalty. And is going to be forced to go back up against a unit or units that he may have actually worked with in the past.

"We might be able to reach an accord." James.

With that James stood up took the data chip and left. Eugene wouldn't be happy. Zhao wouldn't be happy either, especially if something went wrong.

------

James noticed the man looking at him with a critical eye. James also knew he didn’t recognize this man. The outfit didn’t have any identifying patches, name tags, or anything. James sat up and tried to clear some of the bleariness from his eyes.

“Good morning, did we have an appointment?” James

“You’re Lt. Lockheart right?” Nameless Guy

“Who’s asking?” James

“I am.” Nameless Guy

“And who are you?” James

“The name is Richard Maranstein.” Maranstein

“So what can I do for you?” James

“I was applying for work. I was a command and control officer in the third regiment headquarters section.” Maranstein

“I see. How did you hear about this vacancy?” James

“I hadn’t. I had heard there was a mercenary outfit on planet who had just come back from doing undisclosed work for us. So I took a chance and decided to come over. When I got to the ship the security guards pointed me to you. They said there were only two units within your group that were looking for people and they thought the other one was now full. So they pointed me to you.” Maranstein

“I see. What rank did you obtain in your former position?” James

“Major.” Maranstein.

“Major Maranstein.” James

“Yes sir.” Maranstein

“You said you were formerly attached.” James

“Yes sir.” James

“May I inquire as to the reason for your separation?” James

“I’d rather keep that personal sir. I can tell you that I did resign my commission so that I am in good standing with ….” Maranstein

James cut him off “Look mister, I have had a very long night.”

James watched the man in front of him glance over to one of the cabinets against the wall. James followed the eyes and saw the empty whiskey bottle and winced. The fact that it had been sitting there for a couple of days and hadn’t yet been tossed out didn’t matter. The man wouldn’t know that. So as far as that man was concerned James had most likely been drinking all night.

“You will have to excuse me for being short, but I just literally” He glanced at his chronograph again “came off a 48 hour active cycle about 2 hours ago. So you can give me a summary of what is going on or not. Because in short order we are blasting off this rock and things won’t matter.” James

“All right. I resigned to save my boss’s career.” Maranstein

That caused James to sit up a little straighter. That was one answer he hadn’t heard before.

“During the last round of fighting with the pirates, my commander was tasked with guarding a specific sector. Included in that sector was an estate that belonged to one of the rich politico’s. Also in the same sector was a slum district that had an orphanage and a church school. The pirates made a push in our sector. It came down to a split second decision as to which way do we do we route the fight. My commander chose the estate grounds as the battle site versus the high population centre area. After the fight was over and his mansion had stopped smoking the politico didn’t like that explanation. My superior is a good man and they need those good men. So I stepped up took responsibility for the decision. Basically saying, there was a lot of open ground over there and failed to mention the politico's estate.

James understood that answer. He knew better than to ask the name of the guy’s superior. If this guy was an ex-major, the brass would be high enough. But James would've loved to meet the man, because of this guy's story was true that would literally mean that he was one hell of a man. For others to be willing to do that for him, volunteering to give up a military career like this, especially in wartime where promotion happened very quickly.

James mentally smoothed a few of his ruffled feathers at being interrupted from his sleep. He tried to sound a little bit more calm when he resumed talking to the man in front of him.

"I have a few questions and a few statements." James.

"First I want to inquire, what kind of knowledge to have concerning battlemechs, commanding, piloting, maintenance, resupply, whatever?" James.

"Well Lieutenant, thanks to the trade and military agreements Nibo had managed to negotiate, I was able to get my training at a Draconis Combine military academy in BattleMechs, followed by a six-month rotation in the field immediately afterwards. After that I was back here, and thanks to the military training I had just received, I was fast tracked onto the command circuit. I haven't had a lot of experience with them since. But being part of the command-and-control group. I have had working exposure with tactics, logistics and communications. It is not like officers get to spend a lot of time in BattleMechs and it is not like Nibo can afford a lot of BattleMechs, especially not right now." Maranstein

James thought about what the man had just said.

"How long has it been since you were last in the cockpit of a Mech?" James.

"Ever since my six months rotation was up in the Combine." Maranstein

"How long ago was that? ... in round figures." James.

"A little over 10 years." Maranstein

Of course, the first thought that went through James mind was "HOLY ..."

James thought about it a little bit more and then continued.

"Okay time for a few statements. First, I don't have a position in command-and-control, available right now. The only position I have open right now is as a Mech driver. Second, you used to be a Major, which takes no small effort to get to. Also, as you so calmly put it a moment ago, I'm only a Lieutenant. So now you see my situation. I need a Mech driver, but if I offer you that position, you would have to be willing to take orders from me. By virtue of titled rank, you would outrank me. If I offered you the position, you have to take orders from me a mere Lieutenant. So how would you feel about that? On top of that, I am not a Mech pilot. My training is as a combat helicopter pilot." James

“Do you think you can take orders from me?” James

James knew that the man in front of them would have a lot to digest with that. Many military people considered helicopter and tank crews to be of lower stature to Mech pilots.

What James was really asking was a lot of a man to be accepting decisions from somebody from what, in the military caste system, would be considered a lower caste and a lower rank. James also suspected that the man in front of him also had him by a few years. So he was also being asked to take orders from a junior in age as well.

The man paused for not quite 5 seconds. When the man spoke he was staring James right in the eyes.

“As you said, Lieutenants are lower in rank then Majors. But then again they rank an awful lot higher that Private F*@king Citizen, and right now that is the only active rank I have.

Second is, leadership is more a natural ability than an actual learnable skill. You got to have the ability. In leadership courses, all they teach you is how to better use whatever natural ability you have.

I’m figuring you have some of that natural ability if what little bit of rumour I’ve heard since I’ve been at the space port is true.” Maranstein

“So the question really devolves down to this. Does everything you have seen and heard from me change your mind of your initial assessment of whether or not I can do the job that you want?” Maranstein

“If so then make me an offer so I can accept. Otherwise you can tell me to get the hell out of here.” Maranstein

James was a little taken aback by that answer, but he tried not to show it. James also had to admire the man. He had balls. He also had tact, enough to show audacity as well as respect. Of course James also knew that man was correct that he had made a judgement call.

Almost every commanding officer he knew of had usually made such a call. Most people usually make a quick snap decision about whether they like a person or not. While they try to say they are being objective about their answers they are measuring against what they think they see. James liked this man, though he half expected that this man might grate on his nerves a little bit. Of course there was a question that was unasked. That was whether or not James could actually give orders to somebody that use to hold a higher rank than he did. Of course so far this hadn’t been a problem. Everybody that he’d hired had held ranks lower than him. How comfortable would James feel about giving orders to somebody who by virtue of rank and experience most likely had a better set of “tools” to make decisions? How much second guessing would James be doing over the next few months, wondering what the guy thought about every order that James would give him.

He paused for a moment when he realized what his last thought was “over the next few months.” That thought brought a light smile to James face. The realization that James had already made the subconscious decision that this man was going to be working for him. It was at that point that James spoke up.

“All I can offer you is a standard Mech warrior contract.” James

The man stared back at him.

“Fine. That will do just fine.” Maranstein

James keyed the ships intercom system to the crew section where the rest of Trouble Inc would be hanging out.

“Hey is Pee Wee down there?” James

He noticed that the comm. Line had stayed open and he could hear the same person yell away from the panel “Hey Pee Wee! Boss wants ya!” Unknown Trouble Inc person

A couple of minutes later Pee Wee was at his door.

“Pee Wee.” James

Pee Wee eyed the new guy up and down.

“Yes Boss.” Pee Wee

“Pee Wee, this is Richard Maranstein, he will be our new Mech Jock. Run him over the to the Doc, get him a bunk and reserve a time slot in the training sims for later this afternoon.” James

“Sure Boss. You got his paperwork?” Pee Wee

“No, I don’t have his paperwork done yet.” James

“That’s ok I can get Hawk …” Pee Wee

“No. I’ll handle it later today.” James

“If you will follow me?” Pee Wee said to the new guy

Then they both left James office.

James stood up, walked around his desk and started to walk back to his rack. He stopped long enough to grab the empty bottle off the filing cabinet and drop it in the trash, should have done that a couple of days ago, he thought. He then left his office for his rack. He needed some serious rack time. He knew he wouldn’t get it. There was too much to do. The Doc would be bitching about not having Maranstein’s paperwork.

Pee Wee started escorting the man up to the infirmary for the standard physical.

During the walk, the new guy was quiet with his thoughts. Internally

He said to himself “Well Maranstein, you did it. You didn’t get a command and control slot like you wanted, but you did it. You’re out of here.”
Logged

Vampire

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Re: Contract 3A - More rumblings from the Deep Periphery (KoN Sup Contract)
« Reply #6 on: September 26, 2011, 06:17:00 AM »

Quikscell, Inc. Headquarters
Port Royal, Kalidasa
Free Worlds League
15th August
2200 hours local time


"Are they already on their way?" The woman asked of the pair of well dressed men before her. The room was dimly lit, but ornately furnished. Various scale models of armoured combat vehicles were on display - trademark vehicles manufactured by the Inner Sphere spanning Quikscell Inc.

"They are." The smaller built of the pair replied in a low monotone. What little lighting in the room reflected off his clean shaven scalp. "As instructed, they have been issued some of the better quality equipment we have."

The woman nodded. "And the BattleMechs?"

"As per your orders, we have allowed them to trade in their old machines with Orion, Hercules, Trebuchet, Hunchback and Wasp 'Mechs which we managed to obtained from our... friends from Kali Yama." The bald man reported. "Their commander even asked for a couple of Perseus
OmniMechs."

The woman's head raised slightly at that. "Which you declined?"

"Of course." The man replied.

"My Lady." The bigger man interrupted hesitantly. "Are we certain we want to spend so much of our resources on them? It seemed that the resources we are pouring into this vendetta of your late father has far outweighed the benefits it was supposed to reap. After all, they seemed to be slowly rotting to nothingness since the invasion."

"They had shown surprising resilience despite our best efforts." The woman waved his comments away, though a slight rise in her voice hinted that the man might had struck a chord. "And that is something I cannot allow." She glared at the bigger man. "In fact, from what I hear, they've actually shown signs of recovery in the last six months."

"But they are so far away!" The man nearly wailed in despair. "And is diverting our higher quality equipment which are reserved and slated for domestic use wise? These have traditionally been reserved for the FWLM and used to keep the Federal Government mollified and avoid unpleasant investigations into some of our more... dubious operations." Beads of sweat had started to trickle down his face. "And the 'Mechs from Kali Yama - wouldn't these allow people to trace things back to us?"

Never renowned as a quality manufacturer, the rush to exploit the export sales market led Quikscell to cut even more corners in an effort to maximize profits. The company’s infamous cost-over-quality dogma, even when cutting costs means using sub-standard materials, has given Quikscell its well-deserved “cheap and nasty” reputation. Less well known is the company’s practice of dual-sourcing many key components, reserving higher-quality versions in products slated for domestic use within the League. This practise had kept the FWLM and the Federal Government mollified and helped avoid unwanted investigations into the company's practise. The end result was that export buyers usually ended up paying the price of noticeably poorer maintenance and field performance. Despite its quality issues, a solid market continued to exist for Quikscell’s products, particularly among planetary militias and other groups that had to work with harsh budget constraints.

"Don't be ridiculous Marcus." The woman snorted. "Those 'Mechs are some of the most widely exported machines all over the Inner Sphere. They can be found in virtually any Successor State and uncountable number of merc units, not to mention some Periphery states."

"And those bureaucratic pigs in the Federal Government are currently too busy occupied with cleaning up the mess of the Civil War than to notice a slight drop in the quality of a couple of dozens of vehicles." The smaller man added.

The woman turned away from the pair. "I trust that things would be more... conclusive this time round." It was not a question.

"The mercenaries we hired this time round had a better reputation and proven track record than the hodgepodge of low lives we hired the last time round. Given the difference in equipment and capabilities, I have no doubt of the outcome."

"Marcus is right though, this has been dragging on for far too long. I want this ended once and for all Julian." The woman stated as she stared at the ceiling. "One way or another."

Red Dawn - Merchant Class JumpShip
Nadir jump point - Nibo System
16th August 3080
23:30 hours


Natasha had always loved travelling between the stars when she was growing up, with exciting new worlds, experiences and things to learn, nothing seemed beyond her reach. However that was a romantic childhood memory that Natasha's life as a Mech-warrior and Black Warrior had crushed without mercy. A sigh escapes from her lips without notice. Reminiscing on her past was not something she indulged in often, considering it a waste of valuable time. Despite this, in the last three months she had noticed it happening more often. Finally shaking herself free of lingering thoughts she focuses on the present.

Natasha was currently utilising an auxiliary computer terminal to access the local system net, from a merchant class JumpShip called the 'Red Dawn'. The JumpShip had recently arrived in system and was currently deploying the solar sails that would recharge the K-F Drive that allowed JumpShips to travel up to 30 light years in a few seconds. Literally jumping across the void of space in the time of a single breath. Unfortunately the power requirements to achieve this incredible feat were huge and required up to a week of recharging the K-F drive with solar energy collected by extremely large solar sails. A loud clang resounds though the JumpShip as the first DropShip disengages from it’s docking port and would begin a steady burn towards the planet Nibo. Natasha had contemplated travelling to planet for the feel of a natural environment again, fresh food and even air that did not contain some strange smell from decades of constant recycling and sustaining human occupation on this JumpShip. She suspected that the air scrubbers had not been serviced in at least a decade and her brief tour of the JumpShip only confirmed that this ship had properly missed several routine maintenance checks. Not a comforting thought when you were entrusting your life to the success of those jumps. A second clang resonates though the JumpShip and this time a sharp jolt accompanies it. That was the second DropShip disengaging and it had not been a clean disconnect, most likely an inexperienced pilot or a sticky docking port, neither helping to settle her unease.

Natasha felt like a wild animal that had been confined to long and could no longer rest comfortably or even focus clearly. “The late hour does not help” Natasha mumbled to herself. Natasha had waited until the crew in this section had gone to sleep to make use of the computer terminal, suspecting that requesting access would have most likely been denied. She subscribed to the notion that it was better to ask for forgiveness then ask for permission. With both DropShips now gone and with only 22 crew left aboard most of which were dull, boring, uneducated or just plain busy; Natasha would need to occupy her time over the coming week learning whatever this planet had in the way of military history, hand to hand combat training, Solaris match broadcasts, reading the local and Inner Sphere news. Natasha configured the search parameters and the download application settings to start collecting the required material. However the captain had assured her that the return trip would take them back to the Inner Sphere and possible employment, departing as soon as the K-F drive was charged and two new DropShips had docked. The hour was even later now and Natasha would need to wake early to retrieve the downloaded material for the central core before the crew started their shift. Shutting down the terminal to the state she had found it, Natasha started the walk back to her assigned quarters, 158 steps along the most direct route. Even with new reading material Natasha felt that this week would drag on far longer than 7 days should.

“God I miss combat simulators” Natasha stated to the empty corridor and even though sleep would find her quickly it, it would not bring rest.


<Scene Break>
18th August 3080
07:13 hours

Natasha was in the ships gym located on the grav deck and was just finishing her 2 hour morning workout, which on this day was targeting reflexes and endurance specificity. She felt tired, but good despite the fact she was soaked to the skin with perspiration. She had awoken at 4:30am and had retrieved the requested information and vids, avoiding any unnecessary queries about her activities. Natasha was heading back to the shower in her room when Jason Roberts the JumpShip communications officer dash pasted the T intersection at the end of the corridor, heading towards the guess quarters. As the only guess still left on board at the moment, Mr Roberts must be looking for her, but his familiarly with near zero g movement lent him a quick fluid motion that quickly carried him out of sight. Natasha by comparison lacked any grace and had a basic amount of experience in a zero g environment, so she continued the slow and steady crawl back to her room utilising the wall rails. It was her intention to practice zero g movement over the course of the next week, while the JumpShip was recharging.

Finally reaching the corridor her room was located in she was not surprised to find Mr Roberts had already gone. What did surprise her was absence of a message or note. “Maybe he was looking for someone else” Natasha thought to herself.

“Ms Black” calls out Jason Roberts, “I'm glad I finally found you”

Recovering quickly from her lapse in concentration that allowed someone to close within 15 metres of her without noticing them, she turned to face him. He had gotten behind her and was exiting from same corridor she had just exited from. He must completed a complete circle around the guest quarters in the same time it had taken her move a third that distance “Yes learning to manoeuvre smoothly in a zero g environment was now a priority” flashed though Natasha's mind.

“Mr Robert's what can I do for you.” asked Natasha, maintaining a defensive stance and watching him cover the last 10 metres in one fluid motion. “This time it was not an enemy but that would not always be the case” she thought to herself.

“There has been a response to your enquiries for a Mech-warrior position within a mercenary unit.” stated Jason with a sly grin on his face. Natasha had arranged with the comm officers on the last two JumpShips to send out enquiries and feelers at each system, in the hopes of making use of their expertise.

Still she was surprised to have received a response in a remote system like this one. Natasha thought quickly. “With the DropShips already gone it would be impossible to catch them in the shuttle. If another JumpShips arrives I could transfer to one of the DropShips but how likely would be?”

“First I guess I find out how serious their interest is and a little more information about the unit. Who are they anyway?” asked Natasha.

Jason Roberts was now openly smiling and replied “Their called the Black Stars and they have a contract with the Nibo government. Well that's the buzz around the communications circuit at the moment.” He hands over a copy of the communique and he turns, quickly disappearing down the corridor, followed not long after by the sound of laughter.

If Jason Roberts could have seen the tight smile and feral look on Natasha's face he would not have laughed, a great unease would have filled him.

Natasha thought it was ironic that Jason Roberts and those like him believed the Black Stars were little better then pirates, but she believed they could be her future and salvation. The Black Stars had been recommended by other units when she had enquired about a position in their unit with similar jokes about joining a band of near pirates. Natasha had investigated the unit and found nothing wrong with them. “They protected their own” she whispered.

“The Black Stars could work out fine, yes, fine instead” she thought. She now saw an exciting opportunity to make a call and find a new home.

August 17th, 3080
1412 hours, Local time
Seeker-Class Dropship Event Horizon
Nibo Spaceport
Nibo City, Nibo IV
Kingdom of Nibo

“Greetings, Aina. How fares that new nestling of yours?”

As Aina turned around, her eyes met those of Glenn, the former Snow Raven, and the only other fellow clansmen in the Black Stars (There is Reed of the Fire Mandrills, but he is presently on Terra with Harding, doing part of their paperwork for them). Despite having lived in the Inner Sphere for over six years by now, Aina still found it easier to socialize with other former clansmen like Glenn compared to the others, whose habits she often found to be rather on the baffling side, even those currently working for her.

“Better than some of my sibkin. She has the drive to want to become a warrior, and some talent. She would work with some more polishing.” Came the curt reply.

The subject of their conversation was naturally no other than the young Nibonese trainee, Hazel Burns, who at the moment was isolated from the conversation by her simulator pod despite sitting no further than two meters from the two former clansmen. The screen on top of the monitor allowed Aina to monitor her progress as Hazel rushed her way through the simulated combat. Hazel was practicing in a simulated Mongoose II, which the Jack-o-Lanterns sub-unit of the Black Stars possess, and which Aina managed to loan for the duration of the combat they are about to engage in, believing that there might be a need to bring all their guns to bear.

From the screen, Hazel seems to be doing rather well. The young girl seems to still have some issues in keeping her Mech steady when running at maximum speed – she had mentioned to Aina that she was used to slower, jump-capable designs – but she did her best, and did not stumble anymore nowadays even when she engaged her MASC and pushed the Mech to an absurd speed of 172.8 kilometres an hour. On top of that, over the past few days she proved to be a good marksman, and Aina’s threat that Hazel would not pilot a Mech until she can repeat Aina’s feat of not missing a shot while going at full speed seems to have spurned the young girl to do her best.

Results were satisfactory. Her marksmanship, while certainly still below the standards Aina is used to, is rather good as long as she is willing to tolerate the lower rate of fire, since Hazel seems to take an extra moment to line up her shot better. She proved to make that extra moment pay off though, and Aina noted in the back of her mind to look for a better suited Mech with a long-range weapon for the young girl once they reach a planet where they can get new Mechs. She was capable of hitting her targets regularly at long ranges, although she did take her time to line up those shots, doing that feat while moving at over one-hundred kilometres an hour is a rather good achievement.

All in all, the girl did rather well, considering that when Aina first met her, she was a scantily-clad waitress in one of the less reputable gambling dens on the planet – it took Theresa quite a while to explain to Aina what a gambling den was using terms she could understand easier. Some of the habits of the Inner Sphere still puzzled her. Here was a girl who has potential to be a warrior, and according to her story – she has since confirmed it to be true – she was dropped out of the Spheroid’s warrior training program because she lacked money to pay the fees. What rubbish! If they dropped her out for being unfit to be a warrior, she can understand… oh well, loss for the spheroids, gain for her.

Then again, she still has much to learn about life in the Inner Sphere.

The simulation ended about then, and Hazel stepped out of her sim pod, lathered in sweat and wearing only shorts, a plain shirt, and her neurohelmet. Her body still shows some bruises that she got from the nightly hand-to-hand combat exercise with the other members of the sub-unit, and whichever other Black Star happened to be practicing at that hour – Aina made it a point that any person working for her will be ready for combat, be in augmented or unaugmented. The young girl – Hazel was barely out of her teenage years – was shorter than Aina a by a few inches, and lighter by maybe twenty pounds, but she kept her figure trim, not neglecting bodily workout in the year during which she was dropped out it would seem.

“How did I do, Ma’am?” She asked, although without the slightest hint of smugness in her face. Hazel learned very early that Aina is not only a strict trainer, but she can also spot flaws that the trainees themselves never realize they possess at times. Not forgetting that Aina’s fluency in tongue-lashing is only second to her actual prowess inside a Mech or on the sparring mat.

“Your handling at higher speeds still need improvement.” Hazel breathed a sigh of relief at the curt comment. That meant that Aina deemed her performance satisfactory enough that she would not take the trouble of schooling her all over again.

“You have not met him before. This is Glenn, formerly of the Snow Ravens.” Said Aina, introducing her fellow former clansmen. Glenn had been out of the ship for the last couple of days, and as such, this was the first time Hazel met him.

It was also the first time she ever saw an elemental.

Glenn was small for an elemental, a result of his bloodline’s mixing of elemental and aerospace pilot genes, but to the young Hazel, the man’s size is rather overwhelming, since he literally towered well over her head, a literal mountain of cord-like muscles. She was stunned at the sight for a moment before she extended her hand for a shake and uttered a meek “Nice to meet you.” To the elemental-turned-tanker. His grip almost crushed her hand, and she figured he was actually gripping rather lightly there…

And then Aina said the words she’d dreaded since she saw that the Elemental was definitely acquainted with Aina.

“Glenn, would you mind coming over and giving this nestling some pointers in hand-to-hand combat later tonight? The usual place.”

“My pleasure.” Replied the elemental with a grin on his face.

It was times like these that sometimes made Hazel wish that she had aspired to be a bloody hairdresser instead of a MechWarrior at times…
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Vampire

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Re: Contract 3A - More rumblings from the Deep Periphery (KoN Sup Contract)
« Reply #7 on: September 26, 2011, 06:17:26 AM »

Aboard the Drop Ship Event Horizon
Planet Nibo
17-August-3080
21:30
Office of James Lockheart

James reviewed the simulator notes again both his and Eugene's. He then watched a couple of the actual sims play out in front of him. James stopped one and backed it up. He just finished replaying that piece again. When a voice behind him came out of his concentration.

"Yep that's what I spotted too" said Eugene from behind.

James turned his head and caught the look in Eugene’s eyes nodded and turned back to the screen again.

"Okay. So how do we fix it?" James.

"Well, I've got a couple of ideas." Eugene.

"So let's sit down and see what we can't figure out." James

A couple hours later, James and Eugene finished saving a data file.

James looked at Eugene and said "that should fix it."

"We'll find out soon enough. I'll run them through this revised Sim this afternoon." Eugene.

"Good. I'll look forward to seeing the results." James.

And with that, Eugene walked out of the office.

These simulations would be the ones that would really tell the truth of what was going to happen and how James thought.

Now James turned his attention back to the other files in front of him. The first was the latest gunnery scores.

James opened the file and sat back and reviewed the new gunnery scores for the unit. They were all looking good, except for one notable exception. As a matter of fact, his scores were down a couple of points. James had already put out the ultimatum. It was just going to be a matter of time. The decision was going to be made by Darnell. James rationalized that just after giving him the ultimatum that he might be a little rattled from that and that would cause his scores to slip. A slightly closer examination showed that the number of rounds he had consumed during a training exercise had increased so that to him, confirmed it. He was trying to make up for quality with quantity. Which might be all right with the standard H7, but not the H7C model. The auto cannon from the H7 had a much higher ammo capacity than the missile bins on the H7C. James sat vacantly staring at the report for a moment.

The second file was concerning a new gunner. James knew that replacing Darnell was a distinct possibility. He had prepared for it about three weeks back. He had sat down one morning and typed up to the job posting, listing the job for a gunner. The only thing missing from the posting was the date, and his electronic signature. He let out a deep sigh, and then typed in the date and added his electronic signature. He forwarded the posting to be communications station so that it would be sent out first thing in the morning. He also forwarded a copy to the Executive Officer David Ten Bears for his files.

He then closed it and got up from the desk.

He needed to get ready, he had a long night ahead of him.

------

“Watch it … watch it … watch it …. OK! That’s good. Right there.” Aero Tech

They had just finished pulling the Corax fighter out of the cargo storage racks and lowered it to the floor. The technician just looked at the craft that had been pulled from the rack. This thing had been sitting here for almost a year now. The fact that there was a good-sized layer of dust on it only validated that point. Of course there wasn't a lot of time to get this thing prepped, but prep it he would. It was the task he had been assigned. Now that it was free from the racks, the overhead conveyor system would move it to the main floor, which is where he would be working on this thing. That was unless the Fallen Falcons commandeered the space first.

The aerospace technician noticed this fighter’s pilot, standing over to the side monitoring his progress. He was just casually leaning against the wall looking only half interested. From what he understood this was only the second time he had visited the aerospace fighter since he had been on board. The first was the day after he was hired on. This was the actual day they lifted off from Nibo. Lieutenant Lockhart had brought him around to view the craft. After that, he hadn't seen the man down here in the cargo bay. He also hadn’t heard anyone mention the fact that he'd been down in the cargo bay. Though the man might have been able to make it down about being noticed, it would've been highly unlikely.

He picked up his communicator and issued his orders. The overhead conveyance system operator started moving his 30 tons of aerospace fighter on its pallet towards the main floor. There was a lot of work that needed to be done in very short order. He hadn't remembered this one. It had already been in storage when he got here. Of course, after his inquiries he found out that this had been shipped here from a private sale from another mercenary unit. It had come loaded on a pallet and a gone directly into storage on the same pallet. No one had bothered to look at anything in between. He followed its progress through the holds and met it out on the main floor after it had been set down. Freight handlers came over and unhooked the pallet from the overhead system. The lines snaked back up, and then the hoist box moved on. He wasn't sure what to expect as he popped the panels to get a first look at the inside of this thing. He was more than ready to be rattling off multiple pages of parts and maintenance gear.

According to the technical manual he had here with him, this was known as a Corax Omni-fighter, B model. It was thirty tons of dog fighting aerospace fighter. The Corax was designed and manufactured by Outworld's Alliance with technical aid lent by the Clan Snow Raven. It was considered an excellent lightweight Inner Sphere fighter. This was the B Model designed specifically for dog fighting. This model carried six medium class lasers. Two of them were of the pulse variant.

This model could chew through the armour of even the heaviest aerospace fighters with just a few bursts. Of course the drawback for this model was you had to get in range to use the weapons it had. The designers had known this when they created this fighter so they had put in one hell of a power plant, which allowed it to be propelled to speeds to match or exceed any other light fighter out there. Against anything heavier, and they would have to constantly watch their backsides for this one.

Popping open the panels, he started running down the checklists that were included in the tech manual. Whoever had had this machine before had done an excellent job with it. The further he got into the checklist and more items he had on his requisition form, he noted that they had really taken care of this craft. Hell, he had even found copies of the maintenance logs inside the craft. Everything had been done on time, if not a little sooner for routine maintenance. Damage was repaired back up to full specs. Everything on this list so far was attributable specifically to what would be needed to put it back up and operation from mothball. Coolant fluids would have to be replaced, fuel would have to be added to the fuel tank and pump seals would have to be replaced. The tech manual was lax on a couple of areas on how some of the things needed to be done. Almost like the manual he had was from an earlier model and he didn't have the most current revisions. Anything that was missing in the tech manual had been more than made up for in the maintenance logs and accompanying notes. This included specs for a couple of custom-made tools, and modifications to some existing tools to better perform the job.

After four long hours, the technician had gone through the craft, pretty much from end to end. Although there were a few systems he hadn't gotten into yet, there was plenty to keep him going for the next couple days. Those systems he hadn't gotten into yet were the more detailed and complicated ones. He wanted the chance to read through the technical manual, and the maintenance logs to get a better understanding of what would be involved when he got in there. He then went to the ship's stores and started requisitioning the various parts.

All of the fluids, they already had. As the supply officer was filling his requisition lists. He noticed that the supplies that they had taken on at Nibo are matching up nicely with everything they needed. He knew it was going to take a while for the supply officer to get all the supplies together that were on his lists. So he had started with the very basics. First up was the cleaning the craft. There was over a year's worth of grime that should come off first. It would also give him a chance to detail inspect all the armour looking for any kind of loose or ill-fitting plates and to see if there were any kind of irregular lines that might indicate prior damage. Because sometimes repairs to an airframe after battle damage weren't done 100% back to spec, creating slight curves in the frame.

<Scene Cut> flashback sequence day of lift off.

Two of the last people aboard the drop ship before they sealed her up, and it had initiated its burn for orbit had been Eugene and Carlos Piña. James had sent Eugene back to pay the "bail" for Carlos. When Eugene had told him he was bailing him out under condition of accepting the job as a fighter pilot, he hadn't seemed shocked. He was laying there on the bunk, just staring at Eugene and blinked. He slowly got up and walked over to the door of the cell and waited for the guard to unlock it.

After getting outside the police station, Eugene hailed down a cab and rode it back to the spaceport. Then at the main gate, the cab turned around and headed back. Eugene and Carlos started making their way through the spaceport to the drop ship. Eugene watched Carlos for a reaction when they had finally cleared one of the large port buildings and could actually see the drop ship.

The Event Horizon was a seeker class drop ship and technically was considered an obsolete version. And though she'd been kept up in good repair, it was obvious she was older in design. Since they had stopped making these over hundred years ago, some people would have cause for concern when being told that this was going to be their ride. So when they had gotten clear of the building, and it was obvious which of the drop ships they were headed for, Carlos's only reaction was "it is this one, yes?"

Eugene just nodded. It was just a casual question. There didn't seem to be any shock or concern on the guys face at all.

Eugene watched again a minute later, when they started getting close enough to where, the registration numbers and name were starting to be readable. Carlos stopped, looked up and squinted a little bit. He then looked at the ground and continued walking. There had been only a brief break in the man's stride. Of course, to say Eugene was also surprised by the lack of response to this was an understatement.

According to spaceport officials, a few other candidates who had managed to work their way over to the spaceport in response to the word going out, about his boss looking for candidates. That some, when the guards had mentioned which drop ship they had needed to head to, had asked for confirmation of the name that they had quoted and upon hearing it said "there ain't no way in hell I'm riding in that!" They had turned around and walked off.

Not officially hearing the name of the DropShip just the pad number where it was located. A few others had managed to make it within sight and was able to read the name before they turned and went back.

This guy did little more than bat an eye. When they were almost to the ramp, Carlos paused, and stared up at the huge drop ship towering over him. He lowered his head and shook his head once slowly and said "fate, she can be very cruel bitch." With that he walked up the ramp with Eugene following behind him. Eugene had seen that reaction. Of course he'd been expecting a much stronger kind of a reaction. By officially agreeing to let Eugene pay Carlos's bail, Carlos had officially entered in to a contract and Eugene was more than ready to make sure the man followed through, at least to the point of boarding the drop ship. After hearing Carlos's comment Eugene flashed a half hearted smile at nobody and commented to himself "Ain't that the truth."

They passed the two lightly armed sentries at the top of the ramp and walked into the bay. Once inside the bay, they passed the remaining five that were heavily armed and wearing armour. Eugene could tell they were very hot in those outfits, but when David Ten Bears wants security, he wants security.

Eugene thought to himself that it was a little much for so heavily armed a group to be standing guard over the door, but then again, considering the recent hires that James had just made and the possible consequences that Eugene was thinking could occur, having the extra security at the ramp made him feel more comfortable. The last thing he wanted to see was the inside of a Nibo prison.

Later on, after Eugene finished processing the man's paperwork and running him past the doctor for his okay, James led him down to the cargo hold and pointed out the aerospace fighter on the rack.

"There it is, on that rack up there. Do you think you can fly it?" James.

Carlos looked up at the space up on the storage rack that James had pointed out. He was expecting to see an old Sparrowhawk maybe even a well used Seydlitz. Instead, he was staring at a magnificent piece of hardware. He wasn't sure what it was upon first glance, but it was a sleek delta winged designed fighter. He could see the twin barrels gleaming off the port wing. He also saw the second pair protruding from the nose. The wing mounted ones look like standard lasers. The ones in the nose, though they weren't standard medium class lasers. He shifted his position a little bit to get a slightly better look. One of the gleams off of one of the barrels shed light into what he was looking at. Those were pulse lasers. Of course there were also a few markings on parts of the airframe that even any halfway competent pilot would have recognized as markings that were put on Omni-fighters. "So this was one hell of a nice looking Omni-fighter" he thought to himself.

"Yes signor, I think I can pilot this." Carlos

James had started to move off a little bit figuring that Carlos would want to get a good look at the craft he would be flying. Maybe even take one of the small turbo lifts up to get a closer look at. But when James shifted away, Carlos turned to follow him. James had also insisted that Carlos run through a simulator session which Carlos immediately recognized as one of the standard universal basic skills evaluator simulations. Carlos sat and went through the whole simulation. Unlike most pilots who jockey around to get a good feel of the craft, Carlos didn't bother. He didn't seem to waste any shots, but he also didn't go out of his way to perform highly either. In the end he had done enough to meet the minimum qualification scores that were needed, just barely. James wasn't overly impressed with the scores, but the guy hadn't crashed the machine either. As far as the simulation went James kind of got the feeling that Carlos had done it so many times that he knew exactly what was going to happen and when. Of course, that couldn't be because after the first three stages it was all random.

After Carlos had been shown to his bunk, he was left on his own. He started wandering about the ship after he had changed into a standard unit jumpsuit with a patch on her shoulder, which now claims him to be a member of the Black Stars and a member of Trouble Inc. Of course, the unit patch showed helicopter pilot designation, not aerospace fighter pilot designation. That did not seem to bother Carlos.

He had wandered about the ship just looking around. He managed to get back to the simulators area in time to watch the Fallen Falcons go through one of their training simulations. When they were most of their way through and before Aina could get over and talk to him, he left. He had seen enough. He knew that they were good. One was very good. He would need to make sure to steer clear of them for the rest of the voyage. A short while later, the short one had challenged him to a simulated fight. Carlos really wasn’t interested. He feigned being tired. He had seen enough of her skills in the simulation to know that dog fighting with her wouldn’t be a smart move. Not if he wanted to keep his job.

Carlos had made his living skating on the borderline of competent pilot. Going against them or those two Nibo pilots that they had on board wasn’t in his best interests.

While he had been running around on the ship the last couple of weeks Carlos had found out just how much equipment that James owned. With almost a full lance of Battle Mechs, almost a full company of Battle Armour, plus a full Level II of combat heloes and another of light cargo helicopters plus all the assorted pilots and crew for them all.

The great news for him was that James had an extreme amount of work on his plate.
Carlos was able to capitalize on it. He found out what reports he needed to file and tried to make sure they were filed relatively timely. A few were on time several more were late. Of course, they always got bounced back for errors and omissions. Whenever James asked how things were going, Carlos would respond “Everything fine Boss, everything fine.”
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Re: Contract 3A - More rumblings from the Deep Periphery (KoN Sup Contract)
« Reply #8 on: September 26, 2011, 06:18:39 AM »

The Event Horizon
Nibo Space Port
17-August 3080
22:00 Local Time

The group came staggering up the ramp laughing, joking and carry-on. The group had just been out drinking and was feeling no pain. That was very obvious. Even Mary Shepherd was having a great time. Billy Ray in Bubba Joe were in the group as well as Whitman and Pagano. They had been at a bar called The Fuzzy Optics. They left the ship, over four hours ago. When they had first arrived in the bar they had agreed on doing shooters, just to get things started. Slim was already there and acted surprised to see them. He quickly spoke up.

"Bartender, a round of shooters for my friends here." Slim.

As he told the bartender this he slapped his hand unto Darnell's shoulder, emphasizing the word friends. The bartender nodded briefly and said "a round of shooters coming right up." The man quickly lined up seven shots glasses. He then reached for a bottle of tequila and started pouring into the glasses. Everybody grabbed a shot glass.

"To good times!" Slim.

And with that everybody drained their glass. Pagano let out a wild whoop and shook his head with effects of the strong drink.

"Bartender another round!" Pagano.

The bartender set them up again.

"Trouble Inc.!" Pagano.

Everybody shouted back Trouble, Inc. and with that they drained their shot glasses again.

Billy Ray ordered the next round. He told the bartender to make them doubles. He then said to the group "let's get a table." But that they wanted over and grabbed an open table and pulled chairs from nearby tables until they had enough to go around. As they finished eating, the bartender brought around the next batch of drinks. Going around the table and handing them out.

"To us!" Billy Ray shouted.

“To us!” Everyone else in the group shouted. They all tipped back their glasses and drain them.

The next several hours, they continue to drink laughing and joking having a great time. Pagano noticed that Mary seemed to be in really great spirits today. He had noticed that she hadn't been in a great mood for the last several months. Nobody had seemed to know why. Whenever anybody had asked her, she had just blew off the question. Tonight though, she was in rare form. She had a constant smile on her face and very quick to laugh. Pagano was just happy that she was in a good mood.

Billy Ray and Bubba Joe had taken seats on either side of Darnell. They had been very encouraging to him, making sure his drink glass was always full. The group had three more rounds of doubles over the course of the next two hours along with a full pitcher of beer. The whole time they were drinking and taking turns telling stories of things they had seen and done. Slim even added a couple of stories of his own. It was a great evening and everyone was having a great time.

Over in the corner of the bar was a sign over a door. It just said tattoos. Whose idea it was Darnell never knew. The next thing he knew he was sitting in the chair getting a tattoo. He was even too drunk to remember what he asked for or where. Hell, he didn't even remember them doing it. The next thing he knew he was back at the table having another round of drinks.

Darnell got up and tried making his way to the men's room. He eventually made it there bumping into more things than the silver ball in a pinball machine along the way. Things didn't look quite right to him but he found a stall open and started to urinate. He had to brace himself against a steel stall divider wall to remain upright. That was the last thing he remembered except for excruciating pain. Just about the time he entered the restroom. Mary got up from the table excusing herself. She followed Darnell into the ladies room. Apparently he was too drunk to be able to differentiate the signs. She walked up behind him with a bit of a swagger in her step. She casually reached inside her short leather jacket and pulled out a small black box. She had a very smug grin on her face as she pushed the box into the small of his back and depressed the button. Darnell stiffened up and jerked around like a man having an epileptic seizure. He had lost all control over his basic body functions and started spraying all over the walls, floor and toilet of the stall before collapsing onto the floor. He had even hit his jaw on the toilet bowl as he fell. Mary heard the crunch and realized that he had most likely broken his jaw in the fall. She casually replaced the stun gun she had borrowed from Alice back into the inside pocket of her jacket. She then turned and left the ladies room.

She swung by the table and said to the rest of the group . "Let's get out of here."

As one the rest of the group stood up and followed her out the door. Slim caught the bartender's attention briefly as he left. The bartender just nodded back. The group that just made it to the street when a very loud woman's scream to be heard coming from within the bar. The group just kept walking back to the ship. Laughing and talking the whole away.

Billy Ray in Bubba Joe were more than happy to help Mary tonight. The fight around the poker table on the jump ship a few months back. The one where they had gotten beaten up, had started because of Darnell. He couldn't shuffle a deck of cards worth a damn and the jump ship crew had thought that he'd been trying to bottom deal to them especially when he come up with four kings two hands in a row. Pagano had come tonight just because Mary had asked. Whitman had been with Pagano when Mary had asked him so he just tagged along. Slim had just never liked Darnell, and had thought of him as a piece of dreck. So when Mary said that she wanted to give Darnell, a special send off he was more than happy to help. He'd gone on ahead of the group and talk to the bartender. Arranging to make sure that Darnell's drink strengths were much stronger than normal after the first couple of rounds. So when they had started drinking doubles, their's had been watered down to singles, while Darnell's had been half tequila and half 151.

The tattoos had been Mary's idea. After they had gotten him into the small tattoo room he passed out in the chair. Mary had ordered the 2 of them for him. The first of been a hand in a thumbs up gesture. She had the artist put that one on the left side of his face. In a lot of places, this would mean A Okay. Here on Nibo , this gesture meant something entirely different. Something vulgar and prohibited by law about someone's mother. The second one, which she had talked over with Slim was a corporate logo for quick sell. After the artist to put that on the back of his right hand, Mary had asked the artist if he would add Darnell's call sign. underneath that. He said it was no problem and asked what was. She told him "Slugger." The other members of the group gave her a look as the artist started adding the name. She had just given them a sadistic looking smile, and briefly flicked her eyebrows up. The quick sell logo should bring Nibo Military Intelligence into the matter and subject him to a painful interrogation. The name Mary had chosen to have added was one she'd seen on a news file recently. Apparently a Mech warrior pilot with that call sign was wanted for purposefully launching a salvo of missiles into a home for unwed mothers in the last fight with the Nibo Defence Forces.

When they arrived back at the ship. She passed Eugene in the hallway. The smile on her face told him that it was done. She had volunteered to help when Eugene had told her that James was terminating Darnell's contract. Eugene still had a lot of things to do that night and figured she could probably tell him the easiest that he no longer had a job with Trouble Inc. He nodded in understanding of the unsaid message. He continued along the hallway and to James office. He opened the door and entered. James was studying a simulation on the computer screen.

"Yep that's what I spotted too" said Eugene from behind.

August 18th, 3080
2014 hours, Local time
Seeker-Class Dropship Event Horizon
Nibo Spaceport
Nibo City, Nibo IV
Kingdom of Nibo


“Ooomph!”

The first thing that flashed past Hazel Burns’ mind as she rolled along the matted floor of the DropShip’s gym was that she really ought to have asked for a refund from that hand-to-hand combat instructor back in the military academy. Apparently all he taught her was useless things, at least compared to the “instructions” she was receiving daily nowadays. Her left arm hurt, especially around the region she used to block Glenn’s kick earlier, and she wouldn’t be surprised if she wakes up to find a big, blue bruise there tomorrow. These folks play for keeps even during their sparring sessions.

“Get up, nestling! Do better than that!” Came the expected words from Aina.

Aina’s sub-unit was only composed of four people at the time, and all four of them were present in the gym, Aina sticking nearly religiously to daily workouts for her and her unit, a little routine that had young Hazel groan pitifully during her first few days. Aina herself stood straight and tall by the side as she watches the new recruit to her unit try to regain her footing and face the towering Glenn, looking every inch the clansmen she was. Hazel could not miss the obvious physical difference between herself and the former Jade Falcon, for where Hazel barely show any sign of muscle on her figure, Aina was built like an athlete, her muscular frame somewhat diminishing her female figure, but that is something Hazel doubted the clanswoman care about.

Erica and Theresa, the two Lyran aerospace pilots, also show definite musculature, although in their case, it was more from training to cope with multiple Gees worth of acceleration, the kind that they are often subjected to inside the cockpit of their aerospace fighters. Even Erica, being so small and wiry, is probably more fit than Hazel is presently, judging from the way she nonchalantly executed pull-ups on one of the many such bars installed for that purpose, then on her fiftieth repetition, pulled herself up using only her arms and perched herself on top of the narrow bar, sitting there as if she was sitting on a chair or something, and not a narrow pull-up bar two meters away from the ground.

Groaning, Hazel approached the towering former Snow Raven elemental that has been her sparring partner for the past two days – with obvious results, for she doubted anyone has ever given her this sound a trashing before in her life – and swung her fist into a straight punch aimed at Glenn’s solar plexus – Hazel being too short to try swinging at Glenn’s chin. She realized too late that she was using her injured arm to throw the punch, and that the pain was causing her punch to be a slow one, but it was too late by then, for Glenn just caught her fist in one of his meaty hands with ease.

Hazel knew what was coming, and let herself fall along when Glenn twisted her arm – not hard enough to sprain muscles, but hard enough to make it hurt –, slamming into the deck for the umpteenth time that evening. Hazel just groaned at her prone position, knowing that she did not make much progress at all for the past couple of days in this field, and also knowing that Aina would just push her harder until she made progress.

“*sigh* Thank you, Glenn. I think this nestling needs something easier for the time being.”

“My pleasure.” Replied the elemental turned tanker. “You will contact me should you need another training session for that one, quiaff?”

“Aff.” Replied Aina curtly, tossing a towel to the elemental. “Erica! Would you care to show our little nestling here how to use those limbs of hers properly?”

”Jawohl.” Erica snapped out of her reverie at Aina’s call, and she leaped down from her perch, landing easily on both feet before making her way to the sparring mat, where Hazel was still gathering herself. Aina noticed that the diminutive Lyran was chewing some bubble gum as is her habit, and all together, her demeanour was entirely too relaxed for Aina’s preference, but Erica’s performance – both in the simulators and on the sparring mat – has never given her any reason to chastise that girl so far. Hazel had regained her feet by the time Erica reached her post across the mat from her, and readied herself for some sparring.

While Blumenort, the planet where Erica and Theresa came from is by any standard definitely a civilized planet, being the smallest kid in the block makes one prone to bullying, and Erica was the smallest kid in her block. Some children would succumb meekly to such practice, while some others fight back one way or another. Erica happened to fall into the latter category, and never say that fights between children or teenagers have little educational value: She also learned almost every trick in the book, and many more not in the book, from those days.

When Erica fights with her hands and feet, she fights dirty.

Hazel promptly received a reminder of that fact a short moment after they started sparring, when she tried to punch at the smaller girl, only to have Erica snake her way to her side, grab an armful of Hazel’s rather long hair with her right hand, yanked down hard, and then kicked her behind both knees, all in one smooth motion. End result, Hazel ended up sprawled on the ground again, all in less than ten seconds from when they started sparring.

Off to the side, Aina just shook her head at the display. The nestling will need many, many more sessions in this matter. Maybe she should order some extra training regimens for her? The girl was notably less fit compared to the rest of the sub-unit, perhaps that year of living as a waitress have softened her up and whatnot. Well, for warriors having gone soft, Aina only know two alternatives: Either they get themselves back into fighting trim, or they cease being warriors. She plans to salvage this one if she can, although the girl might not like the way things are going to be…

Nadir Jump Point
Seeker Class Dropship “Event Horizon”
Attached to Nibo Merchant Class JumpShip "Next Stop"
Kingdom of Nibo, Nibo IV
19th August 3080
1030 hours local time


Despite the various moanings and groanings among some of the Black Stars about the shortage of time for preparation, the Black Stars had to move on back to the yet un-named planet. One reason was that they did not want to give the bands of pirates, bandits and mercenaries time to move around, leave, or carry out other activities that might screw up the Black Stars pre-planning too much. They would not, for example want to return to the planet to find the Mule and Leopard DropShips reinforced by something like a Union DropShip, or even a wing of aerospace fighters.

Next, was the fact that the Kingdom itself, by virtue of it being a trading and commerce based world, had people coming in and out of it all the time. While the Stars and those from the Kingdom itself that knew of their mission had tried to minimize communication of any sort to just about anyone, they could not risk any potential security leak - not if they want to have the customary edge of surprise and localized numeric advantage on their side.

It would take two jumps to once again be at the zenith jump point of the planet that used to be an SLDF mining colony. It would take another two days for the Event Horizon to move within a day's distance to atmospheric entry of the planet, and at most another day to conduct orbital scans and fly by recon.

After that... the Black Stars would be set for a reaping of enemy scalps.


Nadir Jump Point
Seeker Class Dropship “Event Horizon”
Attached to Nibo Merchant Class JumpShip "Next Stop"
Kingdom of Nibo, Nibo IV
19th August 3080
1500 hours local time


Zi Long barely raised his head at the knock at his bunk door. "Come."

The youngish DropShip crew stepped into the room of the Black Stars CO, glancing around the room and sniffing the air which carried with it an aroma that he was completely unfamiliar with. With the many strange going ons on the Event, most of the crew as well as the mercenary outfit had became rather jumpy at anything unusual.

The Chinese man looked up at grinned at the young man. "Don't worry. It’s not some demonic aura."

"But..."

Zi Long's grin widened. "Its coffee. Something the Nibo people export in very small quantity because of the fact that very little is yielded every season, and that fact that the big wigs buy up most of the available stock."

The man still looked worried. "Begging your pardon Sir, but it sure ain't not like any coffee that I've ever smelt before."

"They spliced it with the Nibo Star... the fruit they have. It’s not as addictive, nor does it scramble your brain... or so I've been told." Zi Long shrugged. "I'm hoping the very small intake I'm allowing myself won't drive me beyond the mental cliff that many say I'm tittering at anyways."

"You're a brave man." The man nodded.

Zi Long smiled. "So, what do you have for me?"

"We've gotten a reply from the Red Dawn." The man simply replied.

Zi Long waited for a while more before he sighed. "And...."

"Oh, they sent out a message saying that they have a Mechjock onboard that's looking for work - and since we've put out recruitment ads all over Nibo, and news was that we didn't have much luck..."

"We're gonna jump soon." Zi Long scratched his chin in thought. "And I don't want to delay our return to do our pirate hunting..." He looked up at the man. "We do still have loads of extra beds yes?"

"Of course Sir."

"Right, bring him onboard. If he proves himself worthy, we'll stick him in one of our spare machines." Zi Long scribbled something down on a piece of paper. "If he’s crap - which I strongly suspect, it’s just another mouth to feed until we can dump him."

"Or we can just save ourselves the trouble and shove him into THE room..." The DropShip crew suggested.

Zi Long beamed. "Good man. I'll remember that idea." He handed the paper to the man. "Do me a favour and pass this to Ten-Bears. He can have the honour of checking out our potential new recruit."

The young man nodded. "Oh, by the way, it’s a she."

Zi Long frowned. "Sorry?"

"It’s a she Sir." The man repeated. "The Mechjock's a female."

"Hmmm... we seemed to be overflowing with the fairer sex among our Mech pilots don't we." Zi Long mumbled to himself.

"As long as they're any good..."

"Indeed. Now shoo, I've got work to do."

The young man threw a rough salute and left the room, leaving Zi Long to retrieve his long unused coffee machine to stare at the small trickle of black liquid dripping into the coffee pot.
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Vampire

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Re: Contract 3A - More rumblings from the Deep Periphery (KoN Sup Contract)
« Reply #9 on: September 26, 2011, 06:19:08 AM »


Nadir Jump Point
Seeker Class Dropship “Event Horizon”
Attached to Nibo Merchant Class JumpShip "Next Stop"
Kingdom of Nibo, Nibo IV
19th August 3080
1900 hours local time


David yawned and rubbed the bridge of his nose as he waited for the transfer to be completed. As soon as the new hire was aboard and everything secured in place, the jump sequence could begin. Right now it looked like they'd be able to make the 0700 target time for the jump, assuming nothing else went wrong.

As the airlock hatch swung open, he brought his full attention to bear on the first person to cross the threshold and board the "Event Horizon".

Natasha is of average build, 169 cm tall and has an athletic physique, close cropped raven black hair, Lilly white complexion that gives the illusion of a glow under the ship's lights and intense ice blue eyes that swept the area searching everywhere and noting every detail. She is wearing a matt black set of form fitting combat fatigues, with a black long coat over the top and practical combat boots. No patches, decorations or ribbons are visible on her fatigues or even a darker patch that may indicate there had been some in the past. She slides along the air lock wall leaving her right hand side free. Her left hand is pulling along a large metallic foot locker with a large black duffel bag secured to the top. Actually at second glance it is most likely a secure weapons locker and without the assistance of the near zero g environment, it would next to impossible for her move. As she and the locker settle to the deck with what little gravity the JumpShip thrusters provide, a large pistol holster is strapped to her right thigh and on her left side a sheath about 40cm long, is attached to a utility belt. Neither the holster or the sheath contain any weapon, which is not unusual since commercial JumpShips and DropShips restrict passengers carrying them while they are on board.

“My name is Natasha Black and I believe I am expected.” and she slowly reaches into her coat pocket, removing a folded bundle of papers. “I took the opportunity to fill out the required forms provided by DMM and a duplicate copy of each.” stated Natasha.

David grunted and shrugged. "We'll test your skills and see about sub-unit assignment in a little bit. We're jumping out in the A.M., and will have a week's layover in a dead system for recharge before we reach our destination."

A slight smile briefly crosses Natasha face and she responds “Sure which test would you like to start with? I'm sure we will have all these tests completed before the JumpShip is ready to jump. I am sure that any ever sub unit you choose will be fine, just tell what you require or want of me and I'll get it done.” There is no pride or boasting in her voice only self assurance.

David nodded. "Follow me... I'll show you your cabin, and then we can find a place to sit and talk."

He led Natasha deep within the old ship, through a winding maze of corridors until they arrived at a small hatchway. "Here will do... nothing fancy, but it's clean and everything works."

Natasha appears lost in her own thoughts with a odd expression on her face. Focusing on the man before her, she unconsciously places her bare hand on the corridor wall and with a calm facial expression replies “Yes, here will do fine” and smoothly flows though hatchway, with an ease she had not displayed before. For some reason Natasha could not quite put her finger on, since boarding this DropShip she had felt something familiar and an affinity she had not felt before. She was surprised to feel at ease for the first time in a very long time.

<Scene Shift: Rec Room>

David sighed and sat back in his chair as he sipped at his newly opened beer. "Look, I'll lay it out for you... Simple, no bull. We're short staffed for Mech pilots, and we're on the way to a job. We don't have time to be fussy or waste time testing you. Either you can do the job, or you can't. One of our previous pilots just became...unavailable... so I'm going to take a chance and put you in her slot. You'll be driving a Spector in support of some infantry and Battle Armour while other elements of the unit take care of other tasks."

David rubbed his forehead and took another sip of beer. "If you can pilot and shoot as well as your brag-sheet says, we won't have a problem. If not.... best you fess up now, because if you turn out to be a fraud and the pirates don't get you, I will. And if it costs us any men, it'll be slow, got it?"

Natasha was not surprised by the man's speech as every drill sergeant and mercenary officer she had ever known had given all new recruits THE speech. When your life and those of your men are in the hands of a stranger especially this close to combat, it is always an extremely high risk. A commander had to make the hard decision if no help at all was better than incompetent help. Without realising it he had indicated that the Black Stars were in trouble and had to take this dangerous risk. She thought to herself “As usual Natasha you have missed the frying pan and landed in the middle of an inferno.”

Looking him in the eyes Natasha stated “I think I can hold my own and achieve what you require of me. I have combined arms experience and have no problem providing support for infantry, aircraft and armour, but I have no experience with battle armour, except in eliminating them. I have a useful range of other skills besides piloting and gunnery but if that's what you need now, I can deliver. But talk is cheap and time is wasting, let me at your tests and I will settle those doubts at least.” She hoped that beer was not an indication of another problem. “There are some problems that Natasha reluctantly admitted to herself that she could not solve or fix.” the thought at odds with her desire to achieve whatever she set her mind too.

David smiled slightly, took one last small sip of his beer, and then tossed the rest into the recycler. "Welcome to the Black Stars. Abandon any hope you might have had of fame or glory, we work hard, doing the things that the more glamorous units can't or won't do, and damned little appreciation do we get for it." Standing quickly, David motioned for Natasha to follow him.

Leading the way across the rec-deck, David quickly had them facing a set of sim-pods. "First test... you may have your choice of Mech, except assaults, OR you may have choice of terrain." He chuckled. "I'll let you know what you are facing AFTER you make your selection."

A few minutes of thoughtful expression passed across Natasha face and then she asks “So to qualify the situation if I choose the Mech which can be anything but assault class, the terrain and opposing Mech which may be assault class are then selected. Then the terrain of course can be chosen to counter any advantage the Mech I selected may have and the opposing Mech selected to benefit from that terrain. If I chose the terrain the assigned Mech I receive could be anything, most likely something inappropriate for the selected terrain and of course my opponent’s Mech could be best selected for that terrain. If I select the terrain and conditions does it have to be revealed before the Mech selection?” Excited at the prospect of a challenge, but not seeing any way to win with most of the cards stacked against her. Of course this would not stop her trying to win, but options were slim. Strangely enough Natasha had never really given much thought to which Mech she preferred, usually just making use of what was assigned or available. Not that it mattered at the moment as she had no opportunity to obtain a Mech of her own at this time.

David shrugged. "Each selection has a number of scenarios attached to it. For example, if you were to select an urban battle, there are a number of historical recreations and training sims to choose from, each with their own conditions and restrictions. Input your choice, and the simulator will randomly select your opposition and the situation. You might get lucky... or not. But that's the nature of warfare, is it not? The capricious nature of lady luck."

He smiled a shark's grin. "The point is not victory. Anyone may be beaten, if the odds are stacked thoroughly enough, the REAL question is what you do with what you have. How do you react to unknowns under pressure? Winning the sim is nice, but I've known pilots who beat their tests that we wouldn't touch, and others who lost five straight that we couldn't hire fast enough."

Chuckling, David continued. "The selection itself tells me something about you.... do you choose a specialized Mech, hoping for a lucky scenario draw? A more general purpose design, ready to adapt to many situations? Or do you choose the terrain, believing that you may turn that to an advantage with whatever Mech you are given?"

Natasha listened and finally understood what he required of her and also realised where the confusion had started. Her indoctrination like all new Black Warrior candidates were subjected to the severe hazing that included no win training scenarios, where recruits had a choice of terrain or mech. No matter what the choice the scenario was geared against them and in favour of the opponent, which was always a existing member of the Black Warriors. It was supposed to teach them that everything has a weakness and can be used against you, in attempt to break new and older Mech-warriors recruits reliance on Mechs not suited to the pirate raiding style. It also highlighted the weaknesses of being caught in the wrong terrain and the best ways on how to take out some of the more popular Mechs. Of course the lessons could sometimes get lost when you involve sadistic socio-path's.

Drawing on her training and experience that was beaten into her, sometimes quite literally and reasoning though the options had always worked previously and should work here as well. Natasha was not a believer of luck or someone who relied on it, so that knocked out the terrain and specialised Mech options.

Having decided she replies “Lady luck and I have an estranged relationship, I make my own luck and she is jealous. I'll select the ‘Mech.” Thinking quickly now she had to reduce the list of Mechs to a single choice. Too light a Mech and heavier classes would cripple it with a lucky shot or outright destroy it. Too heavier a Mech and a lighter class could out manoeuvre it. This left the medium Mech class and it still needed to survive several hits meaning a good amount of armour. It needs to be fast and manoeuvre over obstacles, as well as make it hard for the opponent to strike regularly. Unfortunately Mechs that could deliver on these requirements tended to be light on weapon loads, so every shot really did count. This really did narrow the selection to one Mech that Natasha could think of, off the top her head, the Wraith TR1. She had not piloted one before, but there's time like the present.

Smiling serenely, “If you could load a Wraith TR1 for me that would be great.” Time to play.

David shrugged again and punched in a few commands. Waiting for the sim-pod computer to catch up, he read the screen. "Right, you'll be playing in the Chaos march for this one... a mixed terrain fight, some urban, but some lightly wooded terrain as well. Op-For is a company of Conventional armour, all late succession wars designs. Your mission is to get past the armour, hit a command van hard enough to crack it, and get out again. Any questions?"

“None at the moment.” she responded and Natasha quickly ran the scenario though her mind when dealing with a enemy that had numerical advantage. The best solution is of course is to slice off chucks you can deal with until the enemy is finished. Also limiting your exposure to the enemy’s fire power though the use of manoeuvring and the support of terrain, to negate some of the enemies numerical advantage. As she thought it though she started stripping off her long coat, combat boots and fatigues, leaving only her briefs and halter top. Natasha's stark white skin clearly visible now and sporting only two visible scars. The older wound was a small stab wound in her right side that appeared to be several years old and was just a faint pink line now. A more recent addition is a large calibre bullet wound in the left shoulder that is still healing, with a clear surgical patch over the top to hold it closed and as she turns a corresponding wound on the reverse side shows the bullet had passed straight though. She appears to notice him again after dropping her clothes on the top of the duffel bag. “It will not impede by performance” as she climbs into the sim-pod and starts the simulation.

With the neuro helmet set firmly in place the view screen flickers to life and sensors start displaying readings from the surrounding environment. The readings show an open plain with scatterings of light forests and in the distance what looks like a small town. The targeting system identifies a target at 870 metres and tags it as a Harasser Missile Platform. Natasha kicks the Wraith up to its top speed of 119 km/h and moves to intercept the Harasser before it's support arrives. Almost mirroring her action the Harasser closes in and at 120 metres fires both SRM 6 launchers. Only 4 missiles connecting with the Wraith, but the Harasser's incredible speed makes it difficult to track and only a single medium pulse laser finds it mark. This is more than enough to vaporize the front armour and transforms the vehicle into a rolling wreck.

If the Harasser crew had not reported a enemy contact, the smoking debris would alert someone to her presence. As if on queue the sensors picked up two more Harasser's closing fast, one closing at 9 o'clock (H2) and the other straight ahead (H3). Edging right intending put a small patch of light forest between her and H2, to concentrate all her fire power on H3. This time both SRM 6 launchers miss from H3, but one of the medium pulse lasers destroys the vehicle. The woods now blocking any further attacks. Expecting the harasser to swing away from the woods and head towards the town again, Natasha rounds the top of the forest, the Harasser now 300 meters away, just outside its own weapons range but the Wraith's large pulse could just reach it. Unfortunately the shot does go wide and the Harasser escapes out of weapons range and joins another (H4) just outside town. Both begin advancing on the Wraith at full speed. Reversing her Mech behind the forest enough to block line of sight again, she counted down the seconds waiting until the Harasser's reaches the edge of the forest. Reaching zero she runs the Wraith straight though the forest circling around behind them and splits her fire between them. All 3 pulse lasers find their targets and the both Harasser's become twisted wrecks, but 6 missiles do find the Wraith for the trouble it's causing.

Natasha thought to herself “4 down, 8 to go, but at this rate the Wraith would be chewed to pieces long before then. It is dying the death of a thousand cuts. I need something creative to even the odds. ” The problem with simulations is they are limited to what the programmers incorporated and allowed.

The town was best prospect for Natasha to launch surprise strikes, rear attacks, as well as, hit and fade attacks. Natasha accelerates the Wraith to a full run and hopes she could reach the town before the opposition can, if they had not already. At 119 km/h she reaches the town within a few minutes and enters via a blind side with no direct road access, by jumping over several blocks of 2 storey buildings. The sensors picking up two Condor Heavy Hover Tanks just entering the other end of town supported by two Striker light tanks about 600 metres out of town. The Condor's were not moving fast though town, so a sudden strike from a side street could catch them on the weaker side or rear armour. Heading up town she finds a cross street to circle around behind the tanks seconds after they have passed it. Moving at a full run and despite the difficultly of maintaining traction on the road, Natasha still maintains the Mech's balance at these high speeds. Finally coming up behind the second Condor she fires all weapons and hits 3 times in the rear, destroying the tank before can it react. The last Condor and two Striker's cannot fire on the Wraith, as the buildings block their line of site. Jumping down town and trying to intercept the fleeing Condor, it fails to negotiate a corner correctly and ploughs into the side of a building. LRM's from the Striker's rains down hitting nearby buildings, but completely missing the Wraith. Natasha quickly closes with Condor as it tries to flee again. Firing all weapons with only the large and one medium pulse connecting with rear of the Condor Tank, collapsing the back of it. These buildings are scattering the active sensor signals and as a consequence Natasha has lost track of the Striker Tanks. Time for a quick tour of the town to get a bird’s eye view of the streets.

A full burst of the jump jets carries her back to North end of town, to land on a parking structure and almost adjacent to the striker tanks. Purely on instinct Natasha fires everything at the closest Striker. Incredibly all 3 hit, the large pulse laser scorching the turret and both medium pulse lasers turning the right side armour to molten metal flowing freely on to the street. However the tank was still operational and revenge is swift, but ineffective as LRM and SRM missiles hit everything but the Wraith. Both Striker's attempt to flee and using the Wraith's superior manoeuvrability, she closes on the right side of the second Striker. Splitting her fire, she targets the led Striker with the large pulse laser and finally penetrating the right side of the vehicle, finishing it. The two medium pulse lasers are aimed at the second Striker and cut deep lines in right side of the vehicle. Both tanks fire a flight of the SRM's at the Wraith and 8 missiles find it this time. As retaliation Natasha kicks in the right side of the remaining Striker sending it careening into the side of a building, the flames already appearing from the combination of leaking fuel and sparks. “Very satisfying.” Natasha thinks to herself, with a tight smile on her face. Natasha takes a few seconds to assess the situation; the temperature having risen with that last battle, hindering the Mech’s movement slightly, but it was already falling. The Wraith's armour has fallen to around half what it was initially, but the damage at least had been fairly evenly spread out over the mech.

Evaluating the situation Natasha realizes that the Mech can probably handle one more battle. As long as the remaining vehicles are all light and there some cover terrain to make use of, she should be able to get this mission done. If the remaining vehicles are heavier than previous opposition, it may need to be a lighting fast strike on the Command Van and then flee with all possible haste. Checking the temperature has fallen back to normal, she pushes the Wraith to full speed and heads north, quickly leaving the town behind. Within minutes the sensors have identified a Partisan Heavy Tank, Command Van and two Hunter Light Support Tanks after topping a small rise. Not what she had hoped for, so time for plan B. She keeps the Wraith running full speed towards the Command Van, but cannot close fast enough and must target the closest Hunter Light Support Tank with the large pulse laser. The laser does find the front armour and scars it, but not sufficiently to render it inoperable. LRM 20 missiles and AC/5 rounds fly all around the Wraith, some finding it and shaking it badly. Natasha manages to maintain the momentum and continues on, finally closing to point blank with the Command Van and unleashes all 3 lasers into its left side. The Command vehicle all but destroyed, Natasha attempts to jump free of combat as LRM missiles strike multiple locations and reduce the rear armour to a memory. It's the two AC/5 rounds that penetrate the centre torso that shred the gyro, sending the Wraith crashing to the ground. The screens suddenly go blank and Natasha thinks “Time to face the music.”

David was waiting as Natasha peeled herself out of the now hot and humid interior of the sim-pod. "Almost made it... if that Partisan wasn't such a good anti-aircraft unit, you might have been able to get clear with your jump jets. Instead.... well, it looked more like a skeet shoot. You'll want to remember that if you ever find yourself in a similar situation."

“Yes, should I find myself in the same situation again, I'll will avoid failing again.” Natasha states.

David smiled. "I never said you failed. As a matter of fact, you beat the average score for that particular sim by about 25%. Most of the wannabes just try to bull their way through, but as I'm sure you are aware, Mechs are tough, but not THAT tough."

Tossing her an ice-cold bottle of water, David chuckled. "And if you hurry, you'll still have time to get a shower before we secure for jump."

“Thanks, just point me in the right direction and I'll find my quarters and take a quick shower” Natasha suddenly smiles and asks “Does that mean that there will no inspection of the airlock and a quick space without the space suit. Well not today anyway.”

David chuckled. "Unless you did something REALLY stupid, like drawing down on one of us without provocation, the worst that would have happened to you would have been a boring few weeks spent with us until we got back to Nibo. Oh, and next time you are in one of these sims, you might listen a LITTLE harder to the mission specs. The job was to get the Command van, not slug it out with the light Vees. Evading that first Harasser instead of engaging would have gotten you a lot closer before the first shots. Until you engaged, the op-for didn't know where exactly you were. It was only after you started marking your approach with burning hovers that they pulled in the bodyguard units for the Command Van."

He shrugged. "Score wasn't based on number of kills, but on how much of the mission you completed, with subtractions for how much damage you took in the process. In the battle this sim was based on, the Mech used was an old Wasp-L packing inferno SRM's.... he got in, torched the Van and got out with just a small amount of armour damage."

As he walked back across the rec-hall towards his office, he shook his head. "Take Corridor "B" to the end and go up one level, you are on the left in Cabin twelve."

“Lieutenant, is there any induction manual, standard operational procedures or briefing information I need to acquaint myself with? Also to when, where and whom do I report to next? Is there a schedule or any access requirements I need to be conscious of.” She asks. Not relishing the idea of explaining her half-naked state of dress to any one she may meet on the way to her new quarters, she dresses back into her fatigues.

He disappears into his office with further comment. "Well maybe tomorrow then, there still other things I need to get done today."
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Vampire

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Re: Contract 3A - More rumblings from the Deep Periphery (KoN Sup Contract)
« Reply #10 on: September 26, 2011, 06:19:59 AM »

Old SLDF Mining Colony: DD-456-M-2
Valley of Devil's Embrace
Main Pirate Base
21st August 3080
0830 hours local time

To call the terrain around him the Valley of Devil's Embrace was not REALLY all that wrong. However, most that first laid eyes on the landscape would consider the term "badland" as a compliment to it. Massive alien looking jagged rock out cropping that clawed at the red skies reached to heights as tall as over twenty meters, and had been known to have diameters of up to over ten meters. Some had postulated that the reason for such growth was due to the slightly lower gravity on the planet, while some attributed it to the mix of minerals in the soil.

Whatever the reason, they made for an imposing sight indeed.

The rather thin atmosphere and half toxic air also resulted in little in the form of natural vegetation. A few lean willowy trees dotted the landscape, with dirty brown stalks of needle like leaves that were the only type of flora that could draw whatever little amount of sustenance from the atmosphere.

The very first settlers to the planet must have thought that locating their base within the valley would offer them protection against the violent sandstorms that constantly swept the land, as well as any possible aggressors. And they would be right. What then, caused their death? Nelson had constantly asked himself this question whenever they returned to the base after a raid.

His SCP-10 Scorpion perched at top a slightly raised platform just outside the entrance to the main pirate base, the MechWarrior also often wondered why the fuck he was rotting on this nameless piece of rock.

He had been considered an average soldier in the less than average Bullard’s Armoured Cavalry. When the Cavalry erupted into civil war on Carver V in 3058, Nelson had thought that his own stock would be considerably better if he stayed with the main unit while Captain Gary Larsen took one of the four Union DropShips that the unit had and left. With less than half a battalion of operational ’Mechs after their internal war, the remaining troops were unceremoniously discharged from their service to House Liao on a technicality. Those who remained made their way to Outreach, where they were forced to live in the shanties of Harlech’s TempTown. The CO, Major Bullard was just about to disband the mercenary command when Colonel Wayne Waco, the informal head of TempTown, contacted him and introduced Bullard to representatives of the Circinus Federation. Bullard soon negotiated a new contract under which the Cavalry received new ’Mechs to replace its losses.

Serving a half competent commander under one of the Successor Lords, and a former First Lord of the reformed SLDF was one thing. Striking out a leaving in the Circinus was another. Nelson decided he had enough of the Armoured Cavalry and left. The fact that his ride was an ill regarded Scorpion no doubt persuaded Bullard not to make a meal of his departure.

After nearly half a year without employment, Nelson was regretting his decision when a notice was put up in the hiring halls for mercenaries with their own rides for a corporate sponsored military undertaking somewhere in the Periphery. Nelson thought that even in his SCP-10, he would be more than capable of taking care of himself against farmers and dung collectors in the Periphery. When he was told that they would be invading a single planet Deep Periphery world called the Kingdom of Nibo, he had laughed. He had not even heard about it, and he was more than certain that a single planet back water group of savages would be no match for the forces he had signed up with.

He could not have been more wrong. After initial success, the entire invasion force had been reduced to holding on to defensive positions against constant attacks and raids by the defenders. When the mercenaries finally withdrew, they had lost over seventy percent of their hardware, and nearly sixty percent of their personnel.

Fleeing from the victorious Nibo forces hell bend on blood, the remaining mercenaries had been forced to jump deeper into the Periphery. Their two remaining JumpShips had found this planet that seemed to be uncharted on their star maps. The remaining officers among the mercenaries had decided to send the one of the JumpShips, a Scout back to their employers seeking for additional assistance, while they set up temporary base on the planet.

The JumpShip did not return for nearly a year. The remaining JumpShip, a Merchant had been used to transport the mercenaries, who increasingly turned bandit, to raid nearby worlds before retreating to the relative safe haven of the world.

Than had come news that their employers would be sending them their requested reinforcements for another push on the Kingdom. The Merchant had been sent back to collect manpower and equipment.

That was two months ago.

Nelson hoped that they employers would send them some serious hardware. Quikscell was never known for the quality of their products. Still... it wouldn't hurt even if reinforcements came in the form of a battalion of Scorpion tanks...

Onboard the Event Horizon
22nd August 3080
A few hours before lift off from Nibo

A short while later the appropriated car pulls up in front of the Event Horizon. All but two of the occupants get out of the vehicle and enter the drop ship. The last two, one dressed as a driver the other as a Nibo military police officer stayed in the car. They needed to dump it. After the rest of the party had exited the vehicle, the car pulled away heading back towards the main gate. The rest went up the ramps into the drop ship.

Once inside James and Eugene escorted their two new guests up to James’s office. The rest of the men disappeared they still had to change back into their regular uniforms and report back to Gallagher. Once in James’s office, he ushered them to seats. Eugene disappeared for a little bit. They needed another whole set of paperwork. Eugene needed to get the ball rolling on getting some. Until they took the fingerprints, retinal scans, and stuff, they were still considered convicts and more importantly at the moment escaped convicts. They would remain that way until all of the paperwork was completed and processed. The Nibo government would still be looking for them (descriptions but no names or photos would be released) but would not challenge them once they had new names.

"Well Daniel, we have some paperwork to fill out. This first one is your formal application to join the Black Stars mercenary outfit, and more specifically my unit Trouble Inc. Mickey got a chuckle out of that.

"Interesting unit name you got there." Mickey said.

"Well, Mr. … I’m not sure I got your name." James

"The name is Mickey, Mickey Doane." Mickey

"Well Mr. Doane, my unit knows what trouble looks like, and they are not afraid of it. On occasion it finds us, and other times we go to it. When others find it, they call us. It all just makes sense." James

James turned his attention back to Daniel. Who handed back the first form. James took the next form out of the stack in the folder on his desk.

"This next one is your official offer letter. It says you are accepting our offer of a job and that you accept our terms and conditions it is pretty much standard. You just need to sign it. " James

"Yes sir I was curious about that." Daniel

"Standard terms, you get a Mech warriors pay for a Mech warriors job. I disinclined your rent to own program, at least for now. There is an option so we can grant that later.

"What program… sir?" Daniel

"Some outfits offer you a chance to purchase a ride from the unit, instalment wise, since you are coming without a mech. A lot of contracts include that option, right now I am disinclining that option. I might be willing to reinstate that later after say a… trial period. "James

"How long is this trial period?" Mickey

"Mr. Doane I'll be getting to you in due course. In the meantime, would you mind sitting there, and remaining silent." James.

James turned back to Daniel and continued to speak.

"Well Daniel, if there's any part of the terms and conditions you don't like tell me right now and I can make sure you get dropped back off outside your current living quarters." James

Daniel's face noticeably paled at James last comment.

Daniel signed the form and handed it back. James pulled out the next form and handed over. The top of the form said Employee Status Update.

"What this form sir? The application form looked like it had all of my correct information." Daniel

"A rare once in a while, an employee would sometimes like to file for status change more specifically a change of name. Since changing one's identity is not exactly standard practice and policy we use this form here." James

"Sir, I guess that brings up the question of what exactly just happened. I mean..." Daniel

"Well Daniel, I don't know all of the intricacies involved, but the official Black Star company line is we just hired a couple of mercenaries. I don't claim to know Nibo politics, nor do I really care much about them. From what little bit I know, I was told that executing you would do nothing for the current local political environment. Matter of fact they would like the whole issue to go away. Their compromise was this. That you would disappear. You would leave this planet, and you are never allowed to come back no matter what name or status you have. I repeat, you are never going to be allowed back on this planet. If you show up under your real name or if you show up under any alias name, the Nibo government will arrest you and will executed you. If you show up in a casket, they will perform an execution on your dead body. That was what I was told your current political situation was.

As for your immediate position, by signing these forms. You are joining the Black Stars mercenary outfit, specifically my unit Trouble Inc. You're going to give me four years worth of service. At the end of that time, you're free to go and do whatever you want. If you want to stay, we can discuss that when the time comes. While you were with me, you will get pay commensurate with your assigned responsibilities.

Now as I was saying before, on rare occasion, somebody will come into this outfit, seeking shelter from the storms that are raging outside. Sounds like you were in a real shit storm. On one of these rare occasions, you can file a request for a status change. Since this is considered nonstandard procedure and given the nature surrounding these types requests, we can't just fill out a standard form saying hey I want a new identity. But, in all due fairness for paperwork, this is what we need to have. This is a Status Change Request Form. " James

"Mother’s maiden name, name of your spouse?" Daniel.

"It is still tradition across many worlds that when a lady gets married she takes on the husband's name. Basic form. Down there on reason for change, you check the marital status box and you request name update and sign down at the bottom. We fill in the new name for you.

You are issued a temporary ID immediately. After you have served satisfactorily with us for at least six months, the name change is considered permanent. The new identity is considered yours from that point on, and at the end of the service contract, it goes with you." James

"So ... I'll get a new name?" Daniel.

"A new name, new history, most consider it a second chance." James

"If you'd like to request a status change you will need to fill out this form and sign it. Otherwise, you will keep your current identity, and all your official records will reflect your real name. I should also point out that there will be a few Nibo military personnel accompanying us and we are catching a ride on a Nibo jump ship. I was under the impression that your name might draw attention. I will warn you son, it doesn't matter how far you get away from this planet, somebody will always somewhere run across the name and say hey I remember this person. Again, I'm not forcing you to, but my advice is to do this." James.

Daniel filled out the form. James took the form back and grabbed the next one off the stack.

"This next form is the standard notification form in the event of your demise, who would you like to have notified of such, if anybody?" James

"There is an extra check box down here?" Daniel

"Yes, if you are or have requested a new identity. You do not want your notification sent through normal channels back to who ever you are designating. By checking that box, notification will be done through anonymous channels to protect everybody involved. Usually that means retaining a lawyer and having them deliver the message. That way, whomever you have designated will be notified and no mention will be made of the Black Stars or what your new identity name was." James.

"I want to stress that we don't make a habit of doing this. It is also the reason why your term of service is as long as it is and why the rent to own program is being declined initially." James.

"Lastly son, I want to make sure you fully understand what I'm saying. I'll recap what we just covered. By accepting this position, you are agreeing to work for us, and specifically for me, for a period of four years. In consideration for that, You're getting a new identity, and getting paid for your work. I am a mercenary and you are now a mercenary. This means we go where the work is, we do the work, we get paid and we move on. No matter what the job is, no matter who it is against, you are bound by your duty to do the job as given to you. You are to follow my orders. If you have any problems, any hesitancy about this at all. Tell me now and we can call this whole thing off." James.

"... And I go back, right?" Daniel.

"Yes." James.

"Well sir, I don't have any problems with doing my job. I appreciate the chance you are giving me." James.

"Daniel, Black Stars code says we are all family. If you do anything to cause harm to the family by action or inaction, then you've got problems. I don't expect you to get along nice with everybody, but it is family." James.

With that James shakes Daniel's hand and says "welcome to the Black Stars."

Mickey's in processing went pretty smoothly and quickly. The only thing that James noted was the fact that Mickey agreed just a little too easily and quickly to the position, terms and overall acceptance.

Event Horizon Black Stars Seeker Class DropShip
Attached to Next Stop Nibo Merchant Class JumpShip
23rd August 3080
1030 hours

“Vincent!” Markus called down the hallway.

The tall trooper turned and took a few steps toward Markus to close the distance between them, not that anyone was very far away on a drop ship.

“What’s up Markus?”

“Have you seen Henry? I’ve been looking for him for a couple of hours, we need to go over some of the material we covered yesterday in the meeting that he missed,” Markus wasn’t pleased.

“Err, umm, nope. Have you tried the ship comms?”

“Yes, and you would know that because you would have heard it five minutes ago. What do you know Vincent? What is Henry up to?”

Vincent started looking decidedly uncomfortable, “Err, what do you mean? I don’t know what he is up to…”

“Quit it, Vincent. There is a reason you are spec ops and not an undercover agent; you can’t lie to save your life. Now, where is he?” The look that Markus gave Vincent at this point was almost enough to turn the unfortunate man to stone, and he seemed to shrink despite his taller stature.

“Bay 4,” Vincent said, finally caving in, “But please don’t tell him I told you.”

Markus rolled his eyes, he seemed to be doing that a lot lately, “Don’t worry, your secret is safe with me, but Bay 4 is where the aerospace fighters are stored, what the hell is he doing down there?”

“I don’t know, Markus, I swear. He’s been tinkering with something but I don’t know what it is.”

“Ok Vincent. Michelle needs some help with the Nibo recruits, have you got time to slap a couple of them around?” Markus asked, changing the subject.

The visibly relieved Vincent nodded his head, “Yeah, I can help her out.”

As they parted ways, Markus took a couple of moments to consider his somewhat odd little crew. Michelle he trusted without question. Vincent was a good trooper, but he would never be a leader the way Markus or Michelle were. He was reliable though, and that was what Markus needed at this point. Henry Vargas on the other hand, well, that man was a rogue. Vargas was an exceptional trooper, both as part of a squad or working solo, but he had a vindictive streak a mile wide. Couple that with a short attention span and he wasn’t the easiest of characters to get along with on a long jump ship ride across the known universe. Henry and Patrick, the unit’s tech, had almost come to blows on a number of occasions, and that would have worked out very badly for all concerned.

Something had changed since the last stop on Nibo though. Ever since the briefing where the new contract had been discussed Henry had been distracted by something. He had seemed particularly interested in the point about the lack of atmosphere on the target rock, and the lack of available transport to deploy the various forces. The atmosphere wasn’t a problem for the Jack o’ Lanterns as the Protech Intruder bikes ran on fuel cells; they didn’t require an external atmosphere to work, but the terrain ruled out that idea; mountains, canyons, ravines and the odd sinkhole aren’t exactly conducive to motorcycle passage. So they would have to hoof it in from some distance away, not ideal but the only way to avoid detection of the DropShip, which was currently the only means of ingress.

So then, Markus thought to himself, what the hell is Henry up to?

Bay 4 wasn’t a long hike from where Markus had conversed with Vincent, as he had thought to himself previously, nothing is very far away on a DropShip, and no-one is very far away either which was always an issue for competing personalities. As Markus entered the Bay, he heard voices. Shrugging off the covert operative training that had him wanting to sidle into the shadows and eavesdrop, he walked directly toward the conversation.

The voices that he had heard belonged to Henry Vargas and Theresa Weissenberger, one of the Lyran aerospace pilots from the Fallen Falcons sub unit. A glance sideways confirmed the presence of the other pilot, Erika Hartmann, who was amusing herself and ignoring the ensuing conversation, a trait Markus had noticed more than once.

Each to their own.

The conversation ceased, with Theresa looking quizzically at Markus while Henry just looked annoyed.

“Hello Miss Weissenberger,“ Markus addressed Theresa before turning to Henry without waiting for a reply, “I’ve been looking for you Henry, what the hell have you been doing down here?”

The scathing retort formed without though on Henry’s lips, and it easily visible to see the fact that he had to bite it back. Henry and Markus had an uneasy relationship, but Markus was still the commanding officer, and the chain of command is beaten into every soldier from the day they join the military. Theresa looked uneasily at one man, then the other, noting the contest of wills.

“Saving us a few days of humping our crap around on that godforsaken pirate planet we are heading toward, that’s what I am doing,” Henry snapped.

“Sounds like a good cause, but why the secrecy?” Markus asked.

“Because he wanted to make sure it would work first, no-one likes looking like an idiot,” Theresa interjected before Henry could answer.

“Make sure what works?”

Henry and Theresa shared a conspiratorial look, then Henry answered the question, “Well, I was going ta come and see you today anyway so you may as well check it over now,” and he led the trio around the back of a parked Aerospace fighter to a corner in which a long, narrow object was covered by a sheet.

As Henry pulled the sheet back, underneath was revealed what appeared to be an external fuel cell for an aerospace fighter. It was around nine feet long, though it was unusually wide, at least two and a half or three feet in diameter, and bulged to be wider than it was deep for the front third or so of its length. It was upside down, so that the connecting struts for attachment to a fighter’s hard points were underneath, and this revealed two long doors that split the entire underside of the cell. Markus had to admit it, he didn’t have a clue what the thing was.

“Care to explain Henry? My patience is getting awfully worn,” Markus stated, though the latter was only partly true, he wouldn’t admit it but his interest was piqued.

Henry grinned, and with a flourish worthy of a professional showman he exclaimed, “Ladies and gentleman, let me present to you the universe’s first aerospace fighter delivery system for Nighthawk Power Armour!”

One of the conspirators, Markus couldn’t tell which, had pressed a remote control button that set the bottom doors opening outwards on the contraption, revealing a padded inside with a harness and connections for power and life support.

Markus was stunned, briefly speechless, as Henry looked on with a grin reaching Cheshire Cat proportions.

“You must be mad,” Markus blurted.

“Aww hell Markus, you already knew that. Whaddya think?”

“I still think you are mad. Ahh, holy crap. Madness. Err, Miss Weissenberger, I take it from the fact that you are also smiling that you think this thing will work?”

Theresa nodded her head, “From a purely mechanical point of view, yes. I’ve already tested the attachment points, remote operation of the deployment doors and harness releases etcetera. The life support and power connections are self contained within the unit, so there are no issues there either…”

“I hear a but coming, don’t I?” Markus interjected when he detected a pause.

“Yeah Markus, there is a but,” Henry finished off, “I haven’t tested it live yet.”

“Just great. Where did you get all the gear anyway?”

Henry perked up again, “Well, you gave me that cash to get some supplies while you were gallivanting around looking for that stupid tent. Turns out, if you ask the wrong people you get nowt, but ask the right people and you can get just about anything, they had more aerospace spares than ground stuff, so it wasn’t too hard to get.”

“Hang on a minute, you couldn’t put this together on your own… Patrick! Get out here!” Markus yelled.

Looking sheepish, Patrick crawled out from his hiding place. Somehow he had managed to stay out of Markus’ vision as he had entered the Bay. Clever.

“So you two have been working together on this. Wonders never cease. Ok, bottom line, will it work?”

Three enquiring looks passed between the little inventing crew, though none of them seemed to want to be the first to speak. Finally Theresa took the lead.

“Yes, I think it will. I’ll just have to limit the g’s on any turns since I am told you only train to a maximum of three or four g’s. Delivery won’t be easy, but I think if we crank the angle of attack right up, and reduce velocity to almost zero you’ll be able to drop out into a controllable fall with your jump jets,” she turned thoughtful for a second, “Thinking on that, it might be best to only carry two drop pods per fighter to avoid entanglements during deployment.”

“Surprise is key, do you think you can do that from low altitude, as in below the mountaintops in a valley?” Markus asked.

“That shouldn’t be a problem. Erika and I are capable pilots, it just depends on whether or not you trust us.”

At that, Markus finally cracked a smile, “Oh, I trust you, it’s these two knobbers I have issues with,” he said, pointing at Henry and Patrick.

“So, what’s next?” Henry asked eagerly.

“Next? Next you get to test out this contraption, since you invented it you get first ride, and look so smug Patrick, you get to go with him!”

“But..!” Patrick tried to interject.

“No buts! Miss Weissenberger I expect you to get permission from Aina before you attempt this little adventure, and organize with the DropShip Captain to arrange a time for the test flight. We only have a couple of days before we need to be ready, so get with it!”

A couple of smiles broke out, and Markus left it at that. He still thought that they were all mad, but had a sneaking suspicion that Henry was right. It would make for an interesting bar tale if nothing else.
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Vampire

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Re: Contract 3A - More rumblings from the Deep Periphery (KoN Sup Contract)
« Reply #11 on: September 26, 2011, 06:21:17 AM »


Event Horizon Black Stars Seeker Class DropShip
Attached to Next Stop Nibo Merchant Class JumpShip
23rd August 3080
1830 hours


"They want to what!?"

Theresa half-expected the surprised exclamation from her sub-unit commander when she asked permission to perform a test drop for those BA delivery systems Henry had worked on with her. Calmly, she explained again the system, and Aina's expression slowly changed from incredulous to a thoughtful one. Erica was no help in these kind of things, she's still off in her own world, so to speak, and would probably stay that way until she climbed into the cockpit of her fighter.

"They have courage. I will give them that." Said Aina after Theresa finished her explanation. "They are willing to take their chances on this one you said? So be it. You have my permission."

"Vielen dank, Ma'am."

"Make sure you let them know that I will not have you two held responsible if they mess up their own landings."

"Will do, ma'am."

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

As requested, Erica flew her S-7 Sai slowly, although her definition of "slow" still subjects the plane to three and a half gees of acceleration at times, probably a new experience for the battle armour troopers of the Jack O' Lanterns cocooned inside their drop-pods under her fighter's wings, but a mere everyday thing for her. For what it's worth, were the BA troopers not under her wing, she'd gladly fly her fighter through bone-crunching turns at six gees without any qualms. That being how she prefers to fly her plane anyway.

For anyone spectating, the sight of a 40-ton aerospace fighter zooming over the rugged landscape at over mach 1 would be a frightening sight, especially seeing how Erica and Theresa, who followed behind her partner in her 50-ton SL-25 Samurai were flying Nap of the Earth, a method of flying usually not practiced using aerospace fighters. They followed the terrain's curves, flowing along with the hills and keeping a distance of less than fifteen meters from the planet's surface. That kind of flying was about one of the most dangerous kinds around, where a split-second of distraction can spell a fiery end for both pilot and plane. Of course, in this case the "terrain" in question is merely computer-generated simulation, and not real ground, the fighters actually flying in deep space, with the "drop zone" being the surface of their own DropShip.

Neither Lyran pilot seem bothered by the rigors of the flight though, and as they approached the drop zone, both of them swooped in low - at the lowest point flying less than five meters above the ground. Raising their noses suddenly without gaining altitude, almost slowing to a complete stop, the pods opened without a hitch, and the troopers leapt forward from their now, near vertical position, firing their own jets to take them forward and down, away from the fighters. Their cargo delivered and pods once again closed, the fighters hit their afterburners and quickly distanced themselves from the drop zone.

<A different perspective of that few minutes>

At heart, Markus decided at that moment that he was either getting soft or stupid, perhaps even both. Far from following through on his threat to send out Patrick on the test and training run for the delivery pods, he had somehow decided to get involved himself.

Dumbarse.

Multiple g’s of force were pressing Markus in every direction as the Fighter pilots simulated an attack run. He was in his Nighthawk suit, and the suit with him in it was securely strapped into the delivery pod. It felt like a coffin, being cooped up inside the pod, he could only move a bare a minimum amount in any direction, safety precaution against the harsh motion of the fighter. Markus likened it to the sensory deprivation chamber to which he had been subjected as part of his training. He hated it then, he hated it now.

Warning lights blinked on, and a countdown timer announced their approach to the drop point. Markus really hoped that the pilots knew what they were doing, if they had the trajectory wrong he could go flying off into space, a retrievable but uncomfortable situation. Worse would be if their velocity was too high, which could slam he and Henry into the side of the DropShip faster than their own jets could compensate for. That would be most painful.

Suddenly the doors in front of Markus flew open, while the harnesses holding him in place released. He floated forward just fractionally before he reached behind and gave a mighty shove that sent him forward, out and down away from the aerospace fighter that had delivered him. Just as suddenly the fighter was gone, eerily silent in the void of space. A glance to his left showed that Henry had also deployed safely, and the slowly approaching DropShip was all the evidence he needed that the pilots had done their jobs well enough.

“Remedy, report.”

“Near on barfed in my suit there Lantern, but other than that all fine and dandy,” Henry replied.

“Hate to admit it, but me too. Let’s get back inside, alright?”

“No complaints here.”

The Nighthawk wasn’t specifically designed for use in space, not like the Clan Aerie suit, so it took some careful acrobatics to get the suit’s jets aligned in the right direction for landing. Both troopers had experience in zero-g ops, but neither was an expert. Henry seemed to get it right, heading directly for the centre of the spheroid DropShip. Markus wasn’t so lucky.

Damn

Sliding slightly toward the right, from his perspective, of the massive DropShip, Markus twisted himself around and fired his jets to correct course. He managed to pull himself out of spin mere metres from the surface of the ship, and hit the side harder than he had planned. Being around the curve somewhat from his trajectory he slid across the surface, scrabbling to find purchase with his hand to correct the spin before he disappeared over the crest and fell toward the JumpShip that dwarfed the Event Horizon, he wasn’t authorized to be walking around on the JumpShip’s hull, and wasn’t sure how the Nibo people would feel about it.

A piece of hastily patched section of armour eventually gave Markus the hand hold he needed, and using a combination of grips, acrobatics and jump jets he scuttled back to the centre of the landing zone where Henry was waiting for him.

“That was entertaining. Wish I could have seen your face as you went slidin’ over there,” Henry quipped at Markus over the comms when they came in sight of each other.

“Yeah yeah, I’m out of practice. You seemed to do all right though.”

“Lucky or good, one or t’ other. Don’t matter to me which I get,” Remedy was in a good mood it seemed.

“Whatever, here’s the airlock, let’s go.”

The two troopers pulled themselves in through the open hatch, sealing it behind themselves and watching as the control panel lights came on, indicating pressure equalization with the inside of the craft. The airlock led directly into the bay where the Jack o’ Lantern’s equipment was stored. Patrick, Vincent and Michelle were waiting and immediately began helping Markus and Henry strip out of their gear.

“Well?” Michelle asked as soon as she had Markus’ helmet off.

“I hope neither of you two get motion sickness.”

Henry laughed, “Damn straight, its like a roller coaster ‘cept you can’t see nothin’.”

Patrick looked worried, “If any of you vomit in your suits you are cleaning it up your damn selves.”

“Not likely, since you helped build the damn drop pods you can take some of the responsibility for the aftermath,” Markus ordered.

“What now?” Michelle asked.

“Now I go find Aina, Zi Long and Ten-Bears and give them the happy news. With this we should have at least an extra five or six hours play-time before the main assault. Those pirates aren’t going to know what hit them.”

Empty vehicle bay
Event Horizon Black Stars Seeker Class DropShip
Attached to Next Stop Nibo Merchant Class JumpShip
24th August 3080
0915 hours

A muffled thud sounded, evidence of movement somewhere in the cavernous hold. The enclosed space echoed the sound so that it was impossible to tell the direction from which it had come. The lights had been dimmed down, but were still enough for the naked eye to see by, barely.

Four tall figures stood in the middle of the bay. They were dressed in combat fatigues and held rifles in the ready position at their shoulders. Despite the cool temperature created by the ship’s environmental control system, all four were sweating profusely. They were nervous, though a casual glance showed that the bay they were in was empty save for themselves and a crates stacked against the walls.

A series of the dull thuds broke the silence, causing the four jumpy troopers to turn and aim in the direction they thought the sound was coming from. Immediately similar thuds echoed from behind them, and one of the troopers turned and sprayed low power laser fire in that direction, creating black flash-burn marks along the walls.

“Hold your fire,” grunted the senior trooper, the tremor in his voice giving away the fact that he was also far from calm.

This continued for a few minutes, and despite the instructions, further black pock marks appeared on the bay walls as the troopers grew even more jumpy.

“What the…” one of the troopers grunted, leaning forward to peer at something that didn’t appear quite right. The air shimmered in front of him and before he could react that trooper’s arms were pinned to his sides and we was lifted two feet into the air.

“Remedy, careful with that,” a voice announced, very close behind the now entranced Nibo troopers, “Jack o’ Lanterns, stand down.”

Right before the bulging eyes of the Nibo troopers, four large humanoids forms appeared as if by magic, one holding the unfortunate soldier by his upper arms. Releasing its hold the soldier dropped to the ground, stumbling.

“What do you think, Lieutenant?” a disembodied voice floated out from one of the recently revealed battle armour suits.

Taking a deep breath, the senior Nibo trooper took a moment to respond, “Those suits give me the heeby jeebies, and I knew you weren’t going to shoot at me. If it was brighter then maybe we could have seen the shimmer as you moved, but in the low light no way. You’d be in trouble if we could have used our IR goggles though.”

“Try it out,” the voice ordered.

The suit where the voice was apparently coming from shimmered momentarily and then faded from view altogether. Another Nibo trooper approached the position carefully, a hand outstretched, and jumped when his hand encountered a solid object not confirmed by his eyes. At the same time the Lieutenant had donned a set of infrared spectrum goggles and was looking toward the same location. His subordinate trooper showed up as a hot spot of light, but the location that he knew the battle armour suit to be in still remained a blank, though he thought he could spot an outline, an area maybe half a degree or less off the ambient temperature, invisible if he hadn’t been staring straight at it, with his trooper giving him a reference point.

“God damn,” the Lieutenant muttered as he dropped his goggles to his side.

“Indeed,” came the voice again as the battle armour reappeared, “Take a break while we get out of these suits, then we continue with your training.”

“Affirmative.”

The four hulking figures were eerily quiet as they moved to the far corner of the vehicle bay. Their elongated arms and fierce looking battle claws gave them a fearsome appearance, though the shoulder mounted plasma canon gave them a lopsided look. Patrick Smith and the Hiryo crew entered the bay from a side personnel door and helped the Jack o’ Lantern operatives doff the bulky suits. Patrick was by far the most skilful at this, having only recently trained the others. Still, it went quicker than if Patrick had been alone.

Markus appeared from the lead Ying Long battle armour suit, “Are the Voids ready, Patrick?”

“Yeah, but if they break something I’m not going to have a lot of time to repair them,” the smaller man replied.

“I know, but they seem to be careful. Ok, let’s get prepped up for the next exercise,” Markus said, waving over the Nibo squad.

“Ok, we haven’t got a lot of prep time. Have you four studied the extra data I gave you on the Voids?” Markus asked. All four nodded their heads before he continued.

“Good. Now then, you know that the stealth armour on the Void suits will be next to useless with all the electromagnetic interference planet side. This is ok, since you will be attacking with the main body of infantry anyway, not sneaking in. The magshots are going to give you better range than just about anything the enemy will have, not to mention better penetration, but just remember that your ammunition is limited so no will-nilly shooting. The targeting system is pretty much the same as the Standard suits you’ve trained with so no surprises there. It isn’t very good out at the maximum range of the magshot so again, pick your shots. Now, are any of you squeamish, because if you are you’d better speak up now.”

Markus paused again, watching the reactions of the Nibo troopers. They looked slightly confused at the question, and the Lieutenant answered for the four of them.

“Markus, we are all combat veterans and yes we all have multiple confirmed kills. What is your point?”

“My point?” Markus said with a smirk closer to a snarl than a smile, “My point is this. You may have shot enemy soldiers, but have you ever torn one limb from limb? Ever been sprayed with blood as you use a blade, or anything else to hand to decide who lives, you or the enemy? There is a big difference between shooting someone and doing it up close and personal, Lieutenant, so I repeat the question, are any of you squeamish?”

None of the troopers answered, though at least a couple of pairs of eyes narrowed as they looked at him. Markus was also interested to note similar expressions from Michelle and Vincent, though Henry was just grinning in his usual disturbing way. No-one answered.

“Ok then, I guess I can continue the lesson. Now, once you get indoors, whether inside that ridiculous castle or inside the mines it doesn’t matter, you are most likely going to be engaging in hand to hand combat. Oddly enough, you will have a big advantage over the infantry, and even over just about any battle armour the enemy may have. The reason for this is that big, nasty looking vibro-claw. When that thing passes through infantry you won’t even notice any resistance, it’ll slice through like a knife through butter. What you will notice is screaming, though not for very long, and great streaks of blood and other unmentionables flying through the air.

“This is why I asked if you were squeamish, some people don’t take kindly to this kind of warfare, but when you are in close confines you don’t have any choice. Something to remember though, that vibro-blade will slice through just about anything, including concrete and solid rock. Only thing is, once you embed the thing in a wall or rock, it take some effort to get it back out again. A delay like that against other Battle Armour could be fatal, so I want you to remember this very important rule, when swinging the vibro claw in close confines try to make your attack as vertical as possible.

“On the down swing, aim to hit infantry on the shoulder close to the neck and pass through to the opposite hip, reverse and repeat in the other direction to take on the next enemy, if there is one. The claw takes away most of the need for finesse, so don’t get fancy. I don’t want to see big horizontal swings, as this will both unbalance you and lead to getting the blade stuck in the walls. Both will go a long way toward shortening your life span, you can trust me on that.”

Markus stopped talking as the youngest of the Nibo recruits raised his hand to ask a question. Markus berated himself for not having bothered to get their names yet. Michelle knew them, but he still needed to as well. He nodded for the recruit to ask his question.

“You said to use that tactic against infantry, but what about against other Battle Armour?”

“Good question,” Markus gave rare praise, “Henry, you have the most close combat experience, do you want answer that one?”

“My pleasure,” Henry answered, somewhat surprised.

“Well kids, when you are slicing up infantry it doesn’t much matter where you hit ‘em, bits are gonna fall off and most of ‘em will end up dead or at worst disabled. I disagree with one point of Markus’ though, if you have the time reset your arm for another downswing rather than a reverse upswing. Slicing upward through a man send the spray of blood in that direction, which can coat your suit in all manner of nastiness. Not only is that unpleasant to clean, it can also clog up your viewport. A blind soldier is a dead soldier, even when still clad in Battle Armour. If you don’t have time to reset your swing just roll with it, and hope the viewport clears itself right quick.

“Battle Armour, well now, that’s a whole new kettle o’ fish. You see, Battle Armour don’t just fall to bits when you hit it, meaning you have to hit it with a whole lot more force and in more specific locations to do real damage. There is absolutely no point hitting a suit in where the armour is thickest, where even if you do penetrate you aren’t going to hit the trooper inside, for he or she is your real target. It is much easier to rip through the armour in one location and tear off an important piece of the operator than it is to disable the whole suit, plus we’ll be wanting to salvage those suits for both us and Nibo. Remember the mercenary creed, ‘Kill the meat, save the metal’.

“So, gentlemen, any ideas about the easiest place to smack a suited trooper and have the that bastard drop instead of you?”

“In the head?” spoke the young trooper again.

“That is one option. Armouring one’s head is always difficult, and it work against a lot of Inner Sphere armour, but it ain’t going ta work ‘gainst an Elemental. The heads on those suckers are as hard as the rest of their bodies. Plus, most troopers will protect their heads by instinct, so getting a clear shot ain’t so easy. Any more ideas?”

Silence.

“Fine. Best spot short of the head is joints. Moving bits are softer than fixed bits. Go after a man’s head and he raises his arm to protect it, which opens up a weak spot that has been a favourite since the original armoured idiots from the dark ages on Terra, the arm pit. You drive a spike in there and you’ll puncture a man’s lung, which is a quick ticket to the morgue if you get it right. So, feint at the guy’s head with your weapon arm, then drive that vibro claw into the breach when he raises his arm to defend.

“Unfortunately for you punks, any trooper worth his salt will know that trick and will likely let you clonk ‘em on the head with yon weapon arm, knowing it will do next to naff all. So, the third and final top destination for sticking a man in armour is the groin or hip joint. Not as easy to get at, but a blade to the groin will sever the femoral artery, which will bleed a man out in right quick fashion. If you miss the artery but still manage to slide one into the hip joint, well, you can imagine how painful that would be. It will distract your enemy and slow him down enough for you to finish it, rip his head off if you want to, but if it is safe make it flashy and gory. Nothing like seeing one of their own torn to bits to getting’ the enemy runnin’.”

“Ok that’s enough Henry,” Markus interjected before Henry got any more vivid in his details.

“Just one more thing Markus, if en you don’t mind. Just remember kids, that enemy you are trying to eviscerate is doing his darndest to do it to you first.”

“We’ll get to that in a minute. Time to suit up and you can show me if you’ve soaked up anything you have just been taught. You fail here and now you are staying on the ship, despite how nice it would be to have the extra firepower on the ground. Understood?”

“Sir, yes sir!” The Nibo troopers responded.

“Good. Ok Patrick, suit ‘em up, we’ve got work to do.”
Logged

Vampire

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Re: Contract 3A - More rumblings from the Deep Periphery (KoN Sup Contract)
« Reply #12 on: September 26, 2011, 06:21:43 AM »


August 24th, 3080
1000 hours, Local time
Seeker-Class Dropship Event Horizon
Orbit of Old SLDF Mining Colony: DD-456-M-2
DD-456-M-2
Deep Periphery


“Can you explain to me once again how you plan to launch your fighters out of those cargo bays? I am afraid I do not hear you quit correctly that last time you explained it.” Queried Aina with a rather incredulous look on her face, something that came rather often when she has to hear what kind of ideas her aerospace pilots have in mind. While Aina would admit without any issue that she is practically green when it comes to aerospace operations – never having any experience in that field herself – some of the ideas her pilots proposes – especially Erica’s ideas – comes off as preposterous even to her at times. This happened to be just another such case.

“Eigentlich ist es ganz Einfach.“ Although Erica had slipped back to her mother language, Aina had learned enough basics on German after her months of association with the two Lyrans to catch that Erica was saying that things are in her own words, “rather simple”. Of course, those months of association with the lyran pilots also taught Aina that although she considered many people in the Inner Sphere to be odd and unusual, her own subordinates could easily top the list of the most unusual people she has met so far.

“Think of a slingshot.” Erica went on. Aina was somewhat familiar with what she meant by that, she just couldn’t exactly believe that anyone would be reckless – or crazy – enough to want to actually propose something like that and then do it themselves. “Just in this case we replace the rubber band with a bundle of myomer, and the stone with a fighter. Wouldn’t need more than some minor manoeuvres to get out of the cargo bay that way, since big boot ain’t wanting his cargo bay set on fire and all that…” That was in reference to her earlier “idea” to have the fighters simple take off from the cargo bays, which of course was shot down since that method would also simultaneously set fire to any flammable thing stored in that cargo bay.

“The bay doors are still a very tight fit for an aerospace fighter. Less than a meter of clearance total to the sides, if I recall from when we loaded the fighters in.” Objected Aina. To be frank, she was less concerned with the fighters at that moment, but more afraid of something happening to the DropShip. She knows that her subordinates though somewhat – in the inner sphere way of saying things – loose in the head, knows perfectly well what things to do to survive, and as such she did not worry too much about them.

“Auch ganz Einfach. We’ll just fly out of the door diagonally. More than enough room to fit the wings that way.”

Aina shook her head in exasperation. “Have it your way. Just keep in mind that you will be paying for any damages to the DropShip should anything go wrong.” She did not see the need to warn Erica to be careful in regards to her aerospace fighter, since Erica did own that S-7 Sai of hers after all, so any damage that happened to it during things like these would automatically be her responsibility – and the C-bills needed to pay for the repairs also from her own pocket, not Aina’s.

Aina realized just how odd it was for her to have even given a thought about money – and expenditure – of all things a moment later, when the two Lyran pilots had left the room to prep things up for departure.

By Kerensky… I was thinking like a spheroid… Being around them so often do have a corrupting influence to the mind after all…

~Two Hours later~

“Alles in Ordnung?” Asked Erica “Schwarzteufel” Hartmann from the sealed cockpit of her S-7 Sai Aerospace Fighter. The 40-ton fighter was at that moment suspended a meter or so above the floor of the cargo bay – something easily done in the weightless conditions of space – and its rear end was resting on a flat sheet of metal – spare armour plating for a Mech that Erica has “borrowed” for this purpose. Two strands of myomer affixed the armour plate to the side walls of the bays. They were relaxed, but stretched nearly taut at the moment, while the area directly ahead of Erica’s fighter was cleared of any obstacles. The bay had been decompressed a few minutes ago, and the door in front of her gives her a view to the limitless outer space beyond the walls of the cargo bay.

“Siehst so aus. Bist du sicher? Sure you want to go through with this?” Answered Theresa from her own Aerospace fighter’s cockpit, set up the same way in the other cargo hold of the DropShip.

“Komm schon, Sasha. What can go wrong?”

“Plenty.”

“None beyond our control. The ‘pult worked in the tests. It’ll toss us right at the bay doors, and only way we can mess this up is if we do not clear it on our own. I don’t think that one is an issue, now is it?”

“True, but still… Can we not just have a couple techs in exoskeletons ease the fighters out of the bays instead?”

“Takes too long. If we have to get out in combat, there’ll be no time to do things that way. This way we could be out much faster, and at speed.”

“I know, but still… Ah, whatever. You’ve set your mind, have you not?”

“Du kennst mich, Sasha. Sollen wir?“

“Wie du Willst.“

A moment later, on a sign from Erica, a suited-up technician flipped a switch that turned on the jury-rigged electrical connection to the myomer bundles, causing the artificial muscle fibres to tighten spontaneously. The resulting force of the suddenly contracting myomers literally tossed Erica’s fighter a high speed right at the bay door, and she skilfully used only minimal applications of her manoeuvring thrusters to set her craft slanting diagonally in relation to the door, clearing the opening with plenty of room to spare – although that is a relative term, and anyone watching would have called that a close call instead, for there was less than a few meters of leeway between the door’s sides and the tip of the fighter’s wings. The same scene repeated itself on the other bay with Theresa’s fighter a few moments later.

Once she has been thrown free from the DropShip, Erica fired up her man thrusters, and immediately gained speed, heading straight for the planet she can see in the distance. Theresa’s fighter came next to her after a short while, and off they went for the aerial recon their boss wanted – although Theresa has no doubt that if any enemy aerospace fighter bothered showing up her partner would more likely than not enjoy the diversion from their reconnaissance mission to forcefully reduce enemy resistance to their landing if given half the chance.

Old SLDF Mining Colony: DD-456-M-2
Nadir Jump Point
Event Horizon Black Stars Seeker Class DropShip
Attached to Next Stop Nibo Merchant Class JumpShip
25th August 3080
0900 hours local time


The return of the Black Stars to the still unnamed DD-456-M-2 systems energized Zhao Zi Long. The unit had been out of combat for way too long for his liking. Replenishing supplies, equipment and manpower were of course vital to any military unit, but it had been nearly nine months since any of the Stars fired a shot in anger. Not that they needed to make sure of their weapons to fulfil a mission, contract or even win a fight. The Stars had proved that all manners of booby traps and the threat of destruction was the best way to win a war. Still, Zi Long was glad that they would have something to aim at in the upcoming months. He was tired of sparring against make believe computer generated opponents, as well as friendly units in simulators.

Many had commented that the real reason for his pensiveness was his unhealthy fetish of slivering into a particular Manteuffel OmniTank. Some even declared darkly that the Sanitarium had claimed that Zi Long, as well as Todd Lee, Lou Crescent, Tara Young and Pierre Jaquay - collectively more infamously known as the last crew of an equally notorious Demolisher, the Hildegarde less their now dead former commander Durk Gunston, had all had their souls sold to the Sanitarium. Zi Long had brushed such superstitions aside. After all, what's wrong with loving a tank that's been proved a monster on the battlefield?

"The Nibo pilots are asking for permission to launch Captain." The voice of Captain Harris cackling over his personal comms brought Zi Long out of his musings.

"Belay that Captain." Zi Long replied. "We don't know if the pirates brought in, or had their aerospace assets returned from some raids since we left. I want our own aerospace fighters prepped and launched before they go scour the planet surface."

"Sounds reasonable." Harris commented rather dryly.

"I just want to cover our asses Captain." Zi Long replied, all the while pulling on his Black Stars coat. "All it takes is for them to have a pair of ASFs that we didn't pick up the last time to spot us without any aerial protection. If we're lucky, we'll just loose the initiative and element of surprise. If we're not, we'd be sucking vacuum."

"Hey, the Event can take care of a pair of fighters on her own." Harris puffed defensively.

"Of course you can." Zi Long replied with a smirk. "If they're light fighters piloted by a couple of retards. What if they have something like an air lance of Slayers? Maybe Centurions? Stukas even?" The mercenary officer finished dressing up and slotted on his newly acquired NK88 PWD. It wasn't very heavy, and it did not impede his movement in the very least. He smiled at the comfort of the weapon that was snugly strapped to his body before making it out of his bunk. "I'm not doubting the skill and courage of you and your crew Harris. Hell, I'd give you medals just for sticking with the Event as long as you guys did. I just don't want to leave anything to chance, especially this early in the mission ok?"

"Whatever you say Captain." The DropShip Captain replied. "I'll be waiting for you on the bridge."

"Roger that." Zi Long widened his strides. "Inform our own pilots to prepare themselves as well. We've got ourselves some pirates to peek at."


Old SLDF Mining Colony: DD-456-M-2
Valley of Devil's Embrace
Main Pirate Base
25th August 3080
0905 hours local time


The self styled Major Akula Brakes fumed silently as around him, a couple of his soldiers helped themselves to the one commodity that they had in abundance - Red Lotus Sake that they had looted from a Kuritan merchant ship just a couple of months ago. That was before their JumpShips had gone to collect promised "reinforcements" from their Quikscell employers.

The wait had been far too long for his liking. He was itching to get back at the Kingdom of Nibo, or at least launch raids at some other systems. Based on this god forsaken planet had its advantages - no one had been able to trace their hideout, making their operations usually simple smash and grab undertakings. In fact, given their relative safety, about the only system they had not hit was the ComStar controlled outpost on Columbus. That, and the cursed Kingdom of Nibo that they had not had the strength to return to since their costly defeat. Since then, the Major had seen his forces swelled by picking up other wandering free lance mercs and smaller pirate and bandit groups. There were even some whom he suspects could be former Clanners, Dark Caste or some iron womb spawned rejects.

On the other hand, their growth in numbers and strength had been offset by their own internal breakup. While they still carried out operations as a whole, the bandits had effectively splintered into three groups based at the Valley, the sole Drop Port and on the old mining camp. A couple of months ago, the group on the old mining camp had started construction of a crude castle. Brakes did not know the reason why. He figured it was most likely due to their over inflated ego rather than the need for extra defence or protection.

While his own forces possessed the most number of BattleMechs and tanks, they were virtually useless against those who had taken over the ancient remains of the mining facilities. Heck, even Battle Armour would have trouble operating in those close confines. Any fighting in there would fall down to infantry and the lightest of BA - something that he was severely lacking in, and what that particular band of "fellow soldiers" had in annoyingly large abundance.

One way or another, he couldn't care less.

What he really wanted to do, was to pay back Nibo for all the trouble and hardship they had caused him. And pay they shall.

Onboard the Event Horizon
25th August 3080
0930 hours local time


With the last of the work done, the technician signed off on the work orders, clearing the craft for flight. Next would come the fun part, how to get this thing out of the drop ship seeing as how the Event Horizon didn't have aerospace fighter launching bays. Without those, launching any aerospace craft in space would be near impossible. He knew that James would want to launch his fighter as soon as they got there. Everyone always did. Nobody ever wanted any surprises at the jump zone, nor on the way to the target.

How to do this was creating an interesting problem. Aerospace bays would have catapult systems to launch the craft. Their recovery systems would include nets and arrestor's. The Event Horizon didn't have any such bays or items. Hell, if they were on the ground. They would just lower the ramp, wheel the craft outside the drop ship and let it take off. Out here in space, what are you going to do? It's not like you can tow it outside and launch. Gravity or the lack there of was also an issue,. Hell, even the cargo deck, where the aerospace fighters were being stored didn't have gravity.

The aerospace technician was riding his Segway IV, with electromag wheels, through the various cargo holds. Trying to think things out, while he was searching for a ship's maintenance tech. The ventilation unit in his quarters was acting up again. He had filed the reports, but the standard response was, they would get to it in its turn. With the temperature of his quarters approaching near sauna levels, he just wasn't satisfied with that answer. He was going to find the maintenance tech and get a more definitive answer of when he was going to fix it. If not, he figured wouldn't take too much effort to pull the whole unit and replace it with a one from the maintenance tech’s quarters. It would be interesting to see how quickly the priorities changed when it was his comfort that was being affected, and his unit and not somebody else's, that was acting up.

When he went by one of the cargo bays, he came upon an interesting site. It wasn't strange to see units practicing, where ever they could find the room. The last thing he expected to see here in the cargo bay, which adjoined the battle armour bay was to find squads of battle armour climbing up and down the walls and cargo storage racks. That piqued his interest a little bit. He stopped his Segway IV to watch them for a moment. He saw them moving around on the walls, but this deck was zero gravity. Well technically, it was 0.005 but that was close enough to zero to count. He realized after a moment that these were some of the Trouble Inc.'s new Fa Shih battle armour. The ones with the magnetic clamps. It would allow them to go across floors, walls, or anything metal. This would include crawling over tanks and Mechs with the power of magnets to help make sure they could stay on.

That's when the thought hit him. He forgot all about the maintenance technician he was looking for. He spun his Segway IV around and headed back to his office. He had to look up something. He was thinking over to himself "well, if we can solve that... then this would really work."

He then proceeded to his work room, over to his desk, snapped on the lights and started pulling up maintenance files. He even requested copies of technical manuals for the Segway IV. A few hours later, he had a plan. Now all he needed was to be able to create the parts he needed. What he would really like and what they had on board ship were two different things. This could really work. He would need to run it by one of the other aerospace technicians that were working on Aina's craft, but if so, this could solve their problems. Of course staging the craft would be interesting, but once staged the launch was no problem.

<Scene Break>

A few hours later, he is slaving away in the workshop over his project. The sound of drills, power saws, grinders and curses reverberated out through the small machine shop on board long into the night shift.

<Scene Break>

The aerospace technician is working on the landing gear of James's Corax fighter. One of the other aerospace technicians from Aina's group was over there assisting. Together they were working on the left side rear landing gear of the craft. They appeared to be replacing it with something different. Instead of actual wheels. It looked more like a small track. They kept at it. The front nose gear wheel had already been replaced with this. Basically it just looked like a wheel replacement except that there were a few extra cable lines running to it.

Onboard the Event Horizon
25th August 3080
1000 hours local time


The two aerospace technicians were working with the overhead crane operator trying to position the Corax fighter where they needed it. If it wasn't for the size of the bay, they would have requested depressurization and done it in a more simple format. As for right now, they were busy jockeying the fighter into position. The fighter itself was attached to the overhead crane by six load straps. As the fighter approached the cargo bay ramp door they simultaneously lowered the back two straps and raise the front two straps, lowering the tail and raising the nose of the craft. This caused the fighter to be in an almost 65° position. The angle of the fighter was a near match for the incline of the ramp door. The load operator then started inching it forward. At one point, one of the aerospace technicians signalled the crane operator to stop. The craft had started a slight back and forth rocking motion, and they didn't want to take any chances of an accidental collision with the ramp door. There probably wouldn’t have been any real damage to the ramp door, but they weren't going to take a chance of damaging the craft either. Once the rocking had ceased he continued inching it forward. Then all the sudden it stopped. The aerospace technicians stopped and looked up to where the crane operators booth was.

The voice of the crane operator came over the hand communicator of one of the two aerospace technicians and said "That's the end of my reach. I'm against the stops."

The two aerospace technicians looked at each other. They had planned for this, but hoped they would've been closer than they were. They still had over 2 meters to go. Since the aerospace technicians had expected something like this. They had already formulated a plan. Hopefully it would work. They told the crane operator to lock things down for the moment. That's when the aerospace technicians, along with crane operator started getting busy. With the permission of the drop ship's load chief they had welded a couple of anchor points to the wall on either side of the cargo bay door. Now, they started gathering their load straps and pulleys. One end of the load straps they hooked to the fighter at the midpoint, where the two middle load straps from the crane were already attached. They then ran these cables from the fighter to the pulleys, and then with some considerable effort back to the overhead crane platform. Here these two straps were hooked up the last two load strap winches on the overhead crane platform.

Once they had managed to do all that and returned back to the cargo bay floor, they were ready to start phase 2. Here was where they would find out how good the overhead crane operator really was. He started by lowering the entire fighter. Another three quarters of a meter towards the floor. His next up was to take all the slack out of the last two straps that they had just put in place. He then proceeded slowly to take up the load on those last 2 winches. As he reeled in those two cables, the fighter slowly started swinging upward. Pivoting in relation to the overhead platform. He stopped after a short bit and pulled up on the two load straps of the nose while he also simultaneously lowered the bottom two straps. This further increased the angle of the fighter. He then proceeded to reel in more on the two load straps that ran through the pulleys on either side of the door. Then slowly, slowly it pivoted up more. He stopped a couple more times making more adjustments to the angle of the fighter before finally reeling in the last of the last two load straps. Then the fighter gently made contact with the ramp door. At this point over and crane operator locked everything down.

It was just after the contact thuds were heard, that one of the aerospace technicians pressed the button on the small remote box that he had. Safety rules prohibited anybody from riding in equipment that was being moved by winch. So they had rigged a remote control for the new electromagnetic tracks of the landing gear. They move forward up to the door and looked around to make sure that all three points of the landing gear were in contact with the door. All three lights on the remote control box confirmed that the landing gear magnets were working. They also visually confirmed, against the last point of reference, that the electromagnetic tracks of the landing gear were actually on. This last reference point were the three small independent flashing strobe lights they had added, one for each of the three tracks of the landing gear. Confirming that each of these three lights were flashing i.e., the magnets were on, the aerospace technician with their hand held communicator then signalled the crane operator to slowly start easing off to see if the new landing gear would hold the aerospace fighter in its near vertical position to the ramp door. A few moments later they were happy to see that the electro-magnetic tracks were indeed holding. The craft remain fixed to the door.

The work that technicians were doing hadn't gone unnoticed. Others had stopped to watch the progress as they had manoeuvred the fighter into position. And just when they'd finished and were appraising their work when they noticed James standing there.

James stood there staring at his fighter stuck to the closed ramp door, which put the fighter on a 65° pitch. He walked over to the two technicians, while still staring at the aerospace fighter stuck to the wall so to speak. The two technicians kept an eye on James while continuing to reviewing their handiwork. When James got their attention and casually pointed at his fighter. It was sort of a questioning type of point.

The lead technician of the two looked at him and said "you are going to have to launch out of here."

James did realize that, he just wasn't sure what to make of this.

"Well, the quickest way for us to get you out of here when the time comes is to have you ready to go when the door is opened." Lead Technician "In order to get there, that would mean you'd have to be in position first. So after looking things over this appeared to be the quickest way."

James still looked a little puzzled.

"When you get ready to launch this thing, this whole bay will have to be depressurized. The bay door will have to be opened then you are going to have to try to manoeuvre your fighter out of here. This way, the bulk of the work is already done. So when the time comes, all your man is going to have to do is literally flip a switch, give a short burst of manoeuvring thrusters and he is clear. With the bay depressurized and the ramp down, he is technically already outside the ship. He flips a switch those electromagnetic treads release themselves from the ramp, and his floating clear." Lead Technician

Now James realized what the guys had done. It was quite ingenious. How they had managed to get his fighter stuck to the door at that angle inside the hold was beyond him but they had done it. He could ask them that later. Right now the only question he had and asked at this point was "so how do I get my pilot up there?"

The two technicians grinned at each other. One of them pointed off to the side. It was a small electric cherry picker with extendable boom. The two maintenance technicians who are already on it looked to be working at a small junction box and were in some sort conversation. Probably over how some kind of repairs needed to be made.

James just grinned and nodded his head. With that he turned and left. Another problem solved in one he didn't have to solve himself. Those were the best ones. The ones that work themselves out. James had already received the report that his craft was ready to go at a moment’s notice.

Now, he had to go back and talk to Zhao and figure out what exactly the next part of the assignment was. Was he on guard duty for the DropShip, or was he going down to the planet.

Event Horizon Black Stars Seeker Class DropShip
Burn in to Old SLDF Mining Colony: DD-456-M-2
25th August 3080
1030 hours


It was almost an odd sensation, having normal gravity aboard the DropShip. Being attached to the JumpShip, the only place where there was any gravity at all was on the JumpShip’s gravdeck. Now that they were heading toward planet side though, the acceleration of the DropShip created the illusion of downward force. At the halfway point, Markus knew, the DropShip would flip end for end and decelerate at the same 1G at which they had previously been accelerating, and though the occupants wouldn’t realise it, they would then be pointing their feet at the target planet instead of looking up towards it.

It’s enough to do your head in.

Stray thoughts on the physics of space travel were distracting Markus from what he really needed to be thinking about, being the mission ahead. Lying back in his bunk with his eyes closed, a casual observer may have thought him asleep, though he was far from it.

He knew that the Jack o’ Lanterns would have some free time to recon and plant traps ahead of the assault on the stupid looking castle complex, but exactly how much time he didn’t yet know. At least the aerospace fighters would be able to deploy them reasonably close to the objective, which would give them more time, but for that same reason the amount of gear they could take with them would be limited.

The intrinsic electromagnetic interference planet side would make communications difficult. That didn’t bother Markus as much as did the fact that it would also make remote triggering and detonation of traps nigh on impossible. Everything would have to be done by time, and time was ever the limiting factor.

“Mortars and explosives. What more do we need?” a voice that Markus had been expecting floated across the room. Michelle had been standing there silent, watching, for five minutes before she had spoken. She knew Markus was not asleep, just as she knew that he was aware that she had arrived.

“I don’t know. It just doesn’t seem very imaginative,” Markus replied.

“It isn’t to us, since we used them on the last campaign, but it will come as a hell of a surprise to the pirates.”

“True. Did Vincent get his speed loader working?”

Michelle snorted derisively, “’Speed’ is probably being a bit optimistic, but yes. It’ll drop six mortars in about two minutes, so long as you want them all to land in more or less the same place.”

“That is fine, it’ll keep their heads down long enough for the Nibo squad and Lochnivar’s troops to move into place. Can they be set on a timer?”

Michelle nodded.

“Good. Ok then, we carry in one mortar each with six rounds. Doesn’t leave much room for anything else. A few claymores, some plastics, that’ll be about it.”

“That should be enough to get through that sandstone wall. Or at the very least drop part of it into the cliff.”

“Gable Point style.”

“Yep. Having part of their fortress fall into the ravine should divert their attention for a while,” Michelle said.

She looked at Markus for few seconds, eyes narrowing shrewdly.

“That isn’t what is bothering you though is it.” This was a statement, not a question.

“No. You do realise what is being asked of us here don’t you? We are going to assault a fortified position that has an as yet undetermined number of defending units with two squads of battle armour, a platoon of infantry and a washed up Death Commando piloting one light mech. Does this seem a little farfetched to you?”

Michelle hesitated for a moment before answering, “Well… we don’t actually need to take the objectives do we?”

“No, but please continue.”

“The main objective is the spaceport. Without transport they are more or less screwed, we all know that. What we really want is maximum chaos, which won’t be too hard to achieve now will it? Not after we start blowing bits off their pretty fortress.”

“Point taken. What about the mine itself?” Markus was enjoying listening to his partner in crime bounce ideas around.

“Now as to that… I’ve got no idea. By your smile I think you have though. Cough it up.”

“Nope. It’s only a half formed though at the moment. I’ll get back to you when I’m done. Next problem, they have a couple of ‘Mechs on location. What are we going to do about them?”

“What do the flyovers say? Are they manned twenty four seven?” Michelle asked.

“I don’t think so. You think we could try to sabotage them?” Markus asked, though with a trace of doubt is his voice.

“No. I think that even if they aren’t manned they will certainly be guarded. Maybe we should make the ‘Mechs our initial target? We station ourselves near the ‘Mechs, then when all hell breaks loose we and the Nibo squad tear them up while Loch’s group storm the castle.”

Markus shook his head, “Two battle armour squads versus two ‘Mechs is risky at best, plus the newbies aren’t trained up for that sort of assault. I would rather have them adding muscle to the castle attack. No, I think that is how we should use Dragon. She can break cover as the mortars start falling and draw the ‘Mechs off…”

“No way!” Michelle interrupted, “Both confirmed ‘Mechs at the site are jump capable, she’ll be a sitting duck!”

“You think I don’t know that?” Markus demanded. “Stop interrupting. She will only have to take on one of the ‘Mechs. I agree, we should take out the other one. It shouldn’t be too hard to catch us another Panther now should it?”

“Oh, no it shouldn’t.”

“Right,” Markus continued, “Dragon will have to deal with the Vulcan herself, there is just no way around it. If she can spare the odd laser beam for the castle then all the better. Once the Panther is done then we can sneak in to the castle, with all the noise and dust from the mortars, ‘Mechs and infantry fire it shouldn’t be too hard to slip in with the mimetic on.”

“Good in theory, but you know what they say about plans.”

“I know, but we’ll worry about that when we get to it. Anything else?”

Michelle shook her head.

“Good. Go get some rest, I think we are all going to need it.”

And with that, Michelle walked out, leaving Markus to roll over on his bunk and promptly take his own advice. If there was one thing trained soldiers knew how to do, it was sleep whenever the opportunity presented, who knew when they’d get the chance again.
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Vampire

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Re: Contract 3A - More rumblings from the Deep Periphery (KoN Sup Contract)
« Reply #13 on: September 26, 2011, 06:22:51 AM »

Onboard the Event Horizon
25th August 3080
1200 hours local time

James stood standing behind his desk. He had one report in his hand, two more on the desk and another on the computer. With the impending action, there was always a ton of last-minute stuff to do. It also seemed to have grown exponentially since his last purchase. What was several hours of boring tedious work, was now seeming to occupy most of his time.

Then, every now and then you get one of these requests they had in his hands. He had to stop and stare at it until he realized what was. His immediate reaction was to kick it back for not being filled out properly. That was until he actually noticed what the requisition form was actually for. Someone in his group was pulling a practical joke that partially filled out a request form requesting the Holy Order of the Perpetual Railgun be attached to them as their spiritual advisers for the upcoming combat. Their motto was he who has the biggest gun in the end wins. There was even a rumour that they had membership. Even inside clan space, and that the Clan Mech the Solitaire was one of their designs. That was why James still had that in his hand. He was still doing a double take when Zhao had walked in. James just chuckled in front of Zhao. That gained him and a raised eyebrow from Zhao. James knew enough that Zhao had a good sense of humour. So he handed the file over to Zhao. It brought a smirk, to his face.

James smile disappeared when he looked at Zhao. Zhao wouldn't come down here and bother him, unless he had something to really talk about.

"What can we do for you today, Sir." James.

"I was curious on how your preparations were coming for the impending assault." Zhao.

"I think I have things assembled as much as I possibly can for now." James.

"Just trying to get through a few of the last-minute requests before combat time." James.

Zhao nodded. He knew more than anybody else about all the paperwork that he had to do. Hell, James’s unit reported to him. So, even with all the paperwork James was sending up, it was only a fraction of what Zhao was getting.

"But you know all about those. You had something else, in mind didn't you sir?" James.

Zhao just grinned at him.

"There were a couple of things I wanted to talking about." Zhao.

"The first being where you plan to be during the operations, since your gunship crews are grounded." Zhao.

James had pondered that a little bit already during the grumblings about the lack of atmosphere that was going to keep them out of the fight. He knew they were feeling the stress of not being able to take part in the upcoming mission as well. He would be surprised if there was much if any unbruised skin on the brothers from fighting.

The only thing James had been able to come up with was extra simulator time, since nobody else would be on them. This would allow them to get in there and really practice. His aircrews had been shorted on their allotted simulation time over the last few months. Ten Bears had specifically said it was because they weren't going to be able to take part in the upcoming mission. That he was allotting their time to the other units that were going to be participating in the fight. He also said that he would make it up on the other end. The only other thing James had on the roster for them was to recertify all their CPR training. He knew that wasn't going to take much more than eight hours, but I have been one of those persistent nagging projects on his huge never ending list of things to do.

So, responding back to Zhao's question. "I have been booked for CPR recertification. And every last available minute of simulation time available." James.

Though gave a slight nod, and then said. "How would they like to get a piece of the action?"

James eyed Zhao after that comment. The non-immediate response provoked the next line from Zhao.

"The Doc could use an extra pair of hands, actually several pairs of hands." Zhao.

"Oh?" James.

"Your crew did an excellent job back on Novo Franklin working medivac." Zhao.

"Could use your help again." Zhao.

"What specifically did you need?" James.

"The truth, Doc wants litter bearers and of course it wouldn't hurt if you people had some first aid skills to go along with everything." Zhao.

James gave brief thought. He felt pretty sure that most of his crew had some basic first aid knowledge. How current it was however was a different matter.

"We have a pretty good size combat force but what we are short on is medical help. Especially with the recent influx of all the new personnel." Zhao.

Zhao's eyes lit up a little bit, and James felt that small pit in his stomach. He knew Zhao was specifically referencing all of the personnel he just picked up. When you pick up almost a full company of battle armour, it doesn't go unnoticed by the boss.

James nodded. He understood the request. He also understood full well the implications of not having enough medical personnel in the combat. The thin atmosphere wasn't going to help matters which made having adequate medical staffing even more important. Since there stood a decent chance that a number of the casualties they could be facing might be his own troops that point was driven home even more. The fact that he would have all the flight trained people out running around on the ground in a middle of the fight wasn't something he was happy with but it was going to have to be done.

James nodded.

"Good, you can liaise with the Doc as to when your people get their training done. You might even be able to get the CPR staff in. Look on the bright side, you're updating their qualifications, which will clear another piece of that paperwork off your desk." Zhao.

James gave a small wry grin at that.

"Now back to my other question. Where are you going to be." Zhao.

"I don't know, where am I going to be?" James.

Zhao responded "Well, you see, it appears to be that you are the only sub unit commander is not going to be in the field this time."

James subconsciously winced at that. It was something he was upset with as well. Apparently the fact he wasn't going to be in the field hadn't gone unnoticed.

"In truth, I hadn't gotten that far." James.

"Well, I have." Said Zhao.

James just looked at him.

"This operation is big enough and we're having to split our forces as it is. That is something I'm not entirely comfortable with. Too many ways and things can go wrong." Zhao.

James nodded. Just about everyone had voiced concerns over splitting forces, except Kai. She hadn't said anything yet, but then again it was just her. Get a couple of more missions under her belt, a bigger bankroll, some more equipment, and then the personnel that goes with it. Then she might have an opinion.

Zhao continued. "All the bigger of its would have a command and control group monitoring, watching and helping coordinate things. We don't have that big a staff. So how about it? Can I get you to step up and help keep an eye on things?

"Where would I..." James.

"The only place we have big enough to do this sort of thing is right here. Right from the bridge." Zhao.

"I'd feel a little more comfortable if I had an extra set of eyes, overseeing everything." Zhao.

Neither wanted mention the fact that James would probably be glued to an open comm channel listening in and stressing every step of the way. This way here he was in essence giving him a piece of the action is also giving him free access to all the comms and video link's.

James nodded, what could he do?

Zhao nodded back with a smile on his face. He thought to himself, good. He didn't think James would decline. Zhao knew that James would find a way to listening to every last piece of comm traffic he could. Most likely even up to the point of being a pest to the DropShip captain. This was one way to keep James in the loop as to what was going on for one. The second was that this would take it off the Captain’s plate. He already had enough things to do. The third advantage was that James was a combat arms person and would have a better appreciation for what was happening out on the battlefield. Including the significance of different manoeuvres. Also, considering that James had one of the largest groups, made him a logical choice for this slot. Yet so far managed to juggle everything. How, Zhao wasn't exactly sure, but it was getting done. So that was saying something. Lockhart might be a fly boy but he was combat arms, and on top of that it may actually work better this time. James was used to looking down at things watching a battlefield develop from an overhead type perspective. When it came to a command and control role, that is pretty much the viewpoint you have to look at things from. Lockhart should be able to fill this role reasonably well.

<Time break> rolling it up a couple hours

Conference room, while a troubling this field crews were present and accounted for except for Darnell, which meant everyone.

Everyone looked at James expectedly when he walked into the room.

"Alright everybody. I've got some good news for you. I've managed to get everyone here a piece of the action in the upcoming fight." James.

A few people sat up and took notice. A few others had stunned looks on their faces. I think poor Alice thought somebody was going and her rifle and say go that way with it.

Billy Ray piped up "Aww Boss. I was looking forward to the sim time. I bet Bubba Joe here on the outcome of a shootin' contest."

James just smiled a little bit. Another contest between those two. By James couldn't argue with the results. Those two were arguably the best gunners in the outfit.

"With the impending fight and all the combat personnel involved. It has been determined that with the quantity of personnel involved in the hostile environment in which it's going to take place, that our medical team is a little shorthanded. And due to that fact trouble Inc.'s rotary wing is being subordinated to Doc.

"What does that mean to us?" Pagano

James responded "that means you might want a back brace. Doc is looking for litter bearers."

"What does that mean to us? We're not doctors." Pagano

"What it also means is everyone here is going to need to refresh their first aid skills, and yes that is on top of the CPR training." James

There were a few small groans around the room.

"Hey listen up guys. When it comes to sheer number of personnel in this fight Trouble Inc. is practically leading the way. Trouble Inc. is immediate family. Black Stars are all of the cousins. This training, may help save a life. The person on that litter may actually be a member of Trouble, Inc. Wouldn't you want to know that the person hauling that stretcher when you need it was more than willing to do it for family." James.

Other than the air ventilation unit, you could have heard a pin drop in that room. James let the silence go on for about 5 seconds.

"Slim, get with the Doc and get a training schedule. There will be a lot to learn and not much time. And as usual crew we are going to need quantity and quality of knowledge on this." James

Every face was solemn and picked up a kind of dedication. Every Ferret pilot remembered the look that was on the faces of everybody that came rushing up to the helicopters when they did the medevac flights back on Novo Franklin. The looks of desperation on their faces as they ran up mixed with tears of joy in amongst the pain knowing that these guys were coming right up to the front lines risking enemy gunfire. Just to haul their asses out of there. That these pilots and their bravery were, for more than a few, the only thing that was separating them between life and death. The medics were there, yes, but the surgeons and the advanced equipment that was needed to keep them alive were all back behind the front lines and these guys were the key. Knowing that they knew they had to do this James adjourned the meeting.

“Event Horizon”
Seeker Class DropShip
Attached to “Next Stop”, Nibo Merchant Class JumpShip
25th August, 3080
1200 Hours, Local Time


David stretched slowly, then winced as he put his shirt back on. “Not a word to anyone, Doc.”

Bowles frowned. “But Zhao at least needs to know.” He objected softly.

“Not yet he doesn’t.” David turned his head to stare at the Black Star’s medical officer. “Not until it starts to affect my work.”

“You’re staying on?” Bowles seemed puzzled. “But if you went back to Terra, they could buy you some time. Maybe as much as an extra three or four years.”

David chuckled coldly. “As what? A dying ex-merc? One with no blood family and no purpose? Why don’t you tell me, Doc, what am I getting out of those years?” He started to laugh but was cut off by a dry cough.

When he was done, David rinsed his mouth and spat blood tinged water into the sink. “You said it yourself… my days are running out. Even if I went back to Terra, it’s inoperable and likely already spread to other locations. So I get a little more time… doing what? Hooked up to machines, dying by inches? At least with the ‘Stars I get to serve some purpose, with the closest thing I have to a family.”

He shrugged and grinned. “Besides, I should have a year or two if things keep going at this rate. In a year, who knows? I could die of something else, the cancer might go away, or the damned horse might learn how to sing.”

Doctor Bowles just shook his head. “Damned stubborn Mech-jocks… well, at least let me treat you with what I can? I may not be able to cure you, but maybe I can at least help you stay on your feet and be a little more comfortable.”

David nodded. “Now THAT’s the sort of thing I’ll take you up on. Just so you don’t let on what you’re treating me for.”

Bowles sighed. “Without your OK, I couldn’t even tell your wife, if you had one. I might not be the best Doc out there, but I do believe in the ethics of my profession. Can you at least tell me WHY you don’t want anyone to know?”

David stared off into space for a few moments before replying. “If I’m going to die, I want it on my terms. Doing what I know, until I can’t anymore. And I REALLY don’t need, or want, anyone’s pity. If the others knew, they’d treat me different… I don’t need to be coddled, or given sympathetic looks when they think I’m not looking.”

Bowles shrugged, unconvinced. “So be it, you’re the one that’s going to be dealing with the pain. I can help you with that some, but there’s a limit to what I can give you and still keep you vertical.”

David smiled ruefully. “Pain and I have a long acquaintance. I guess we’ll just get to know each other just that much better.”

***Scene Break***

12:45 Hours, Local Time
Mess Hall Compartment, “Event Horizon”

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

The mess hall looked rather deserted today. Well, "deserted" is a relative word, as there were at least two squads of infantrymen from the Lupos Negros enjoying their lunch in the place at the time, as well as some other members from other sub-units, but it was deserted for what Hazel has in mind. None of the people in her own sub-unit was in the place, Aina still being busy with Diana, probably teaching her more things kids that young should have been shielded from, whereas both Erica and Theresa were "having fun" in the simulator pods. Erica seems to have tampered around with the sim-scenario maker lately, and they were both occupied in testing out what Erica called a little "test" for their piloting skills. Hazel doubts that anyone would call a trip through a tunnel with randomized obstacles along the way would be a "little" test for anyone's piloting skills, especially when the sim was meant for aerospace fighters, which fly at many times the speed of sound... But by now she has come to accept that most of the members here in the Black Stars are what most people would regularly term as "less than sane". When she last saw those two they were definitely having a good laugh about how Theresa crashed near the very end of the course due to a shutter door that suddenly closed in front of her...

Looking around her, Hazel noted one of the few people she had made up her mind to talk to should she get the chance, David Ten-Bears, sub-unit commander of the Lupos Negros and the XO of the mercenary unit. To tell the truth, Hazel was a little embarrassed to ask about this issue, but she figured that she would just end up worse unless she asks some outside opinion on this matter.

David would probably laugh at her if she asked him for pointers in hand-to-hand when her sub-unit (often with a helping hand from Glenn) had been drilling her in that particular field every night, but it can't be helped. If there's something she learned from Aina or Glenn it's about how to get accustomed to pain better, given that those two seem to believe in the Spartan method of training: keep throwing the pupil into the sea until they learns to swim... or until they drown. Erica and Theresa are not that much help either. Theresa did coach her on basics, but Theresa herself seems to share the same teacher as her diminutive friend does: the street. Both of them fights particularly dirty, and are far from above pulling any dirty trick in the book or not even written in the book yet. Not exactly the kind of thing you could study too quickly, and more of something you have to grow up with.

Hence her looking for second opinions on the field. Having made up her mind, she filled up her tray, and headed to David's desk, where he was eating his lunch alone.

"Pardon me, Boss. Mind if I sit here?" She asked him somewhat meekly, still somewhat uncertain with how to go about the issue with the much older and more experienced MechWarrior.

"Nah, pull up a chair."

"Thanks, boss."

A few moments of awkward silence passed between them as both the grizzled veteran and the young rookie consumed the food they had on their trays. The food on the mess hall wasn't bad at all, quite a bit better than what Hazel lived on for the past three years in fact - which means it was better than both the food on the academy mess and her own cooking, which was edible... but edible and palatable are two rather different things. She finally summoned up the courage to ask David what she came to ask around halfway through her meal.

"Say... mind if I ask you something?

"Go ahead... I might not have the answer you are looking for, but you can always ask."

"Umm... This is a bit embarrassing for me to ask... but could you show me a thing or two on hand-to-hand fighting?"

David chuckled. "Not getting pounded enough by Aina and Glen?"

"That's the issue, mostly. Nothing against them, but I feel like... I didn't learn that much other than how to take a beating better, you know?"

David nodded. "That's what you get, learning from Clanners. Good fighters, but not so good at teaching."

"They seem to teach each other rather successfully in that way... though I guess I'm no Clanner. Might be why I don't seem to get much benefit from it."

He leaned back and studied the young woman. "Clan teaching generally forces the student into the teacher's mould... all well and good, IF the student fits into the pattern, but not so good for those who don't."

"Any idea who I should turn to for some instructions then?"

David shrugged. "You have to remember, the ones we see as Clan warriors are the ones that fit the mould, or could be made to fit. For every one that did it, there are three or more that washed out."

"What did they do with the washouts?"

He smiled coldly. "Those that lived mostly become their technicians."

Hazel obtained a rather gloomy expression on her face. "Those that lived through it, huh...?"

David took another sip of his drink. "I think you'd do better not to try to force yourself into the Clan mould. Try fitting the style to you, not you to the style."

"What kind of style would you suggest, boss? They don't really teach much more other than some basic hand-to-hand back in the academy... at least not much advanced stuff on the year I was at."

He motioned to her slight stature and build. "You're small and slim. You'll never have the kind of power and ability to absorb punishment that someone like Aina will. On the other hand, with a little training, I'd bet you could bend in ways that she could only dream of, and your speed is probably quite good."

"Ain't that bad, but I'm nothing like that Erica though... That girl could probably pursue a career being a rubber-girl in a show if she gets bored with merc life."

David stretched a little and paused a moment. "Most of your opponents will be larger and stronger than you will." He smiled. "So I think you should consider a style where that's an advantage." "Ever think about Aikido?"

"Heard little tidbits of it... don't think they teach it on the academy though."

David shrugged. "Not sexy or flashy enough to keep the academy types interested. Damned effective though... IF you are interested, you could try Doctor Bowles, I understand he's quite good."

"The doc? I thought they have some kind of hippopotamus or something oath about not harming another person?"

"Well, self-defence is allowed, and old school aikido is a purely defensive art. But if you wanted something a little more aggressive...Snake Style Kung-Fu might be something to look into."

"That one I never heard of. Kung-fu, yes, some of my friends are into those, but never heard that style."

"Softer style than most, very fluid. Concentrates on evasion and deception, with strikes to nerve clusters."

"Don't tell we got someone good on that here on board the ship as well..."

David shrugged. "Well, I can't claim to be a Master, but I know a little bit. Iron Hammer Kung Fu is more my style though."

Hazel just cocked her eyebrow questioningly at that. "Not something I'm familiar with, I think."

"As I'm sure you noticed, the harder styles are more popular."

"Yeah. They do teach mostly some mix between boxing and kick-boxing back at the academy..."

"Iron Hammer is a newer variant." He held up his artificial arm. "Designed by, and for, those of us carrying artificial limbs."

"Ouch. Don't think that's a style I can subscribe to then." Said Hazel with a wince.

David chuckled. "Oh you can learn it, but without the augments, you couldn't get the full benefit."

"Would it do much good for me though? I don't think I have that much power to swing around... unlike Glenn or Aina."

David nodded. "Indeed...you should avoid matching power with most of your opponents."

"And go for their weaknesses, correct?"

"Correct." He thought for a moment. "If you would learn what I can teach of the Way of Snake, I would be willing to teach."

"I don't know how to thank you, boss." Said Hazel, nearly tying her tongue in her surprise. Even the academy instructors were usually much less willing to aid her when she needed it...

"Wait until after the lessons before you thank me. I may not subscribe to the "pound the beginners" theory of teaching like Aina, but you'll certainly sweat."

"I don't think I'd mind sweating it out, boss. I think Aina's already pounded the easily-getting-winded part out of me the hard way..."

David chuckled. "You'll see.... Now, for your first assignment..... Go see Doc Bowles and get him to run you off a chip copy of the latest "Gray's anatomy."

"Gray's Anatomy?"

David nodded. "If you're going to learn how to take a body apart, the first step is knowing how it's put together."

"Oh. Gotcha. Be right back." With that, Hazel shovelled the last bits of her meal into her mouth. With her mouth still chewing, she went up from her seat and out of the room. Less than ten minutes later, she was back at the mess hall, slightly panting from exertion and carrying a copy of "Gray's Anatomy" in her hand.

David smiled at her eagerness. "You'll be studying that for a while I think. With emphasis on joints, ligaments, and nerve pathways. Once you have those down, we'll move on to Chi pathways, but that's a LEAST a few months away."

Hazel nodded eagerly. "Roger wilco, boss. I'll sleep with it under my pillow tonight."

"Try reading it, I've always gotten better results that way. On the physical side... ever study any gymnastics or dance?"

She looked embarrassed for a bit. "Of course. I meant to do that whenever I get the chance. Just figured I might as well try whatever I can, no? And afraid not, boss. Never been much into those unfortunately." Hazel grinned rather innocently as she said that.

David just looked amused. "Meet me in the gym tonight at 2000 hours, we'll get you started on balance drills and start toughening up your hands."

"Will do, boss! And thanks again!"

David held up a finger. "One thing though. This all depends on Aina agreeing to let you go as a student. She's your direct employer, and your current instructor. It's just good manners to ask permission before I take over your lessons."

"Understood, boss. I'll go ask her. Be right back." And with that, Hazel took off from the mess hall again, the book still clutched under her arm like a kid might clutch a prized possession.
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Vampire

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Re: Contract 3A - More rumblings from the Deep Periphery (KoN Sup Contract)
« Reply #14 on: September 26, 2011, 06:23:25 AM »


“Event Horizon”
Seeker Class DropShip
Attached to “Next Stop”, Nibo Merchant Class JumpShip
25th August, 3080
1310 Hours, Local Time


"An interesting proposal." Said Aina.

It would be an understatement to say that Hazel was relieved when Aina took her request to train under David positively. At first she was afraid the former clanswomen would take offense at that, which would more likely than not end up with something unpleasant for her, although Hazel has not seen Aina actually lose her temper so far in their short acquaintance. She was in no mood to try find out what Aina would be like when she blew off her top though, and would rather prefer to be far away should that kind of thing happen.

"You can go. Do tell David that we will see him tonight for the practice."

"Sure will, ma'am!" Hazel replied enthusiastically, only to realize a moment later that Aina did not mention "you", and used "we" instead. "Err... you we'd we'll be seeing him tonight, ma'am?"

"But of course. It is the same time as the unit's scheduled practice. David would not mind a spectator or two to add to that audience, I presume?"

"Uh..."

"Besides, we could trade some... tricks of the trade too that way. Off, girl. I will see you later in the simulators."

"Uh... Yes, ma'am!" Replied Hazel, snapping a hasty salute and getting out of the room, probably fearing that Aina might change her mind.

Aina just smiled slightly at the departing young girl. At least she has initiative, and enthusiasm, that is a good thing. That Hazel asked David to teach her did not offend her in the slightest, having expected the girl to look for help elsewhere, since she realized that the one method of teaching she knew of - the one she grew up around - might not fit exactly everyone, since even among other clansmen many were found lacking after bouts of their Spartan training. That it was David the girl turned to, and that he was willing to help, pleased her, thinking that Hazel had picked well, remembering how David fought in that little... tournament was it? back in the Draconis Combine.

Oh yes, tonight should be rather interesting.

~A few minutes later, in the mess hall~

"*puff* *pant* Boss, she's okay with it..." Said Hazel while trying to catch her breath. Aina's room was located a good bit away from the mess hall, all the way across the ship and a couple decks apart, and running from one end of the ship to the other is still something that would cause her to need to catch her breath, especially since she has been low on workouts over the past year.

David shook his head. "Slow down there... catch your breath. No one is dying right now, so it can wait until you can speak properly. Now, Who is OK with what? I can think of at least three things it could be, and unless you are a bit more precise, I have no idea which it might be."

He cocked his head to the side and watched as she tried to catch her breath and slow her breathing. "Now, since I have to guess, I'd say that it was most likely getting permission for your kung-fu lessons."

Hazel just nodded, still in the process of trying to catch her breath.

He smiled slightly and nodded. "Very good. You will find, in your career, that it’s the little courtesies that make or break professional and personal relationships. No need to step on toes you don't have to."

He shrugged. "She didn't have any questions? I'm surprised, I'd have thought she'd want a few more details."

"Oh... *pant* She said she'll be there too tonight... with the rest of the folks."

"Ah." David nodded and smiled. "That will save me the trouble of acquiring sparring partners for you."

"Huh?" She replied, somewhat puzzled. She had thought David said he would train her tonight.

"Yes, well, while I'll probably be doing some sparring with you, I will also need to be able to study your form without the distractions of trying not to be hit."

** 1902 Hours, Ship's time. Recreation/ Exercise deck **

David's face never changed expression as he waited for Aina and her crew to file into the small gym. Hazel was already present, stretching out and warming up.

"You are late."

"Aff. By two minutes." Replied Aina, looking at her watch.

"Two minutes is still late. If you wish to observe the lessons, please do me the courtesy of showing up on time."

"I understand, and do beg pardon. We had to track down this one -" She said, glancing Erica's way. "-before we could get here."

David nodded. "Apology accepted. Shall we begin?"

"Certainly. I am interested in what you have to teach that nestling." She replied with a spreading smile.

David shrugged. "I suppose we could arrange a small demonstration of what she'll be learning... did you have an opponent in mind for me? And the ground rules?"

"I would not mind volunteering, ma'am." Came the answer from Theresa.

"Aff, you would do. And no rules, other than not trying to actually kill each other. Too many rules inhibit them in actual fights, in my opinion." Replied Aina, reminiscing back to her training days in the Clans... back then not even that rule she mentioned was used, and quite a few of the cadets discarded off the training program met their end on the sparring mat, be it from accident or not.

As Theresa stepped forward and began to remove her shoes prior to stepping onto the training mats, David stopped her. "No, leave them on."

Theresa looked puzzled for a moment, but David continued. "We learn and spar as we normally dress. Shoes and clothing, especially heavier or restrictive types limit your options or slow your movements. It would be counter-productive to train you in moves that you will be unable to do unless dressed for training. Additionally, certain moves, while possible in heavier gear, are less effective due to movement restrictions."

Theresa nodded and stepped onto the mats, slightly crouching and bringing up her hands to a middle guard position.

David crouched down, his legs spread widely. As he began to move closer to Theresa, his whole body and arms began to sway sinuously, weaving back and forth. Even his artificial arm moved in ways that made it appear almost boneless.

Aina was rather surprised with the fighting stance David adopted, the one she thinks he plans to teach to Hazel, mostly because of its striking differences to the style she saw David fight with back in the Combine. Back then, he used a lot more force, using the power provided by his artificial arm to the fullest, whereas this... Watching him weave that way reminded Aina of a serpent of all things, and she was rather surprised that someone like David - with the artificial arm and all that - could make himself so flexible.

Theresa had waited until David comes closer, focusing on his shoulders, since from experience she knows that anyone throwing a punch would telegraph the move by moving his or her shoulders first more often than not. After a few moments of circling each other without either one of them throwing an attack, she watched for lulls in David's rhythm instead, looking for chances to throw in an attack of her own... She saw what appeared to be her chance a moment later.

She feinted slightly to her left then threw a straight overhand punch with her right hand, trying to go over David's defences and tag him on the chin.

Unfortunately, her punch, while powerful and well done, didn't land. Instead, David's right arm came up and almost gently tapped the underside of Theresa's forearm with the back of his hand, guiding it slightly off target. At the same time, he leaned slightly to one side and allowed the punch to slide by his head, missing by mere millimetres.

Rather than pull her arm back, Theresa rotated around her extended shoulder and attempted a looping back fist, using the momentum from her first attack to aid in the spin... Once again, her strike struck nothing but air.

As Theresa began her spin, David leaned his body forward, following her momentum and closing the distance. As he did so, he dropped his centre of gravity even further down and slid his torso over to the side, allowing Theresa's attack to pass well overhead.

Weaving back to a more upright body position, David went on the offensive. As his torso shifted, his hands flashed out, two fingers extended stiffly from each one.

Theresa staggered back as his strikes found their homes. Precisely placed point strikes sent a muscle in her right thigh into spasm, and caused her to have trouble catching her breath when her abdomen began to object.

Hazel caught her breath as she watched the scene before her. For a man his size and age, David moved with far more speed and grace that Hazel had credited him with, and the effects of his seemingly small blows were evident when Theresa collapsed to the sparring mat, and evidently having some difficulty in trying to get back on her feet, the leg that David struck definitely not cooperating with her attempts. David on the other hand, had slid out of reach, waiting for Theresa to come back up, still keeping that odd stance - Hazel figured probably the one he planned to teach her.

Aina on the other hand nodded at the result of the strike, suitably impressed. While she does not know the style or have any familiarity at all with Kung-Fu, she was familiar enough with fighting to notice exactly what David did. Striking at pressure points certainly have its merits for those precise enough to be able to deliver their blows to the exact spot. When she thought about it, it would work better for Hazel more likely than not, since she lacked the physical strength Aina usually relied on, provided she can make it through David's training sessions well enough.

Erica just watched on, her features relatively expressionless as usual.

Once Theresa had staggered back to her feet, wincing and taking shallow breaths, they resumed the match. This time David made no attempt to close the distance between them. Instead, he stayed just barely out of her strike range, teasing and inviting her to attack. As he did so, he kept circling to her right, forcing her to pivot on that leg, making her use the muscles that were so painful and not allowing her time to ease the cramping.

A few times, Theresa jabbed at David, but he kept weaving, just barely out of her range. Clearly she would have to commit completely to any attack if she wanted any hope to connect. This would leave her open, but if she didn't sooner or later her leg would give out, or the inability to draw a deep breath would wear her down to the point that she would be easy meat. She couldn't even effectively kick to keep him back away, as her right leg wouldn't fully support her, and would be too slow should she try to use it offensively.

Finally, with a hiss of pain as she forced her aching leg muscles to move, she threw a jab with her left hand, and as David weaved aside, she committed fully and put everything she had behind a right cross that would make any boxing instructor very proud.

Unfortunately for her hopes, Theresa's attempt had been anticipated, and once again, David tapped her forearm and weaved in place, causing her to miss by the barest of margins.

His right arm slid up and around Theresa's like a boa constrictor around a branch, trapping it in place, fully extended, for just a moment. As he did so, David's left hand again struck a relatively light blow with two extended fingers, this time in her armpit.

Even as he struck, David stepped back and away, using the trapped arm and his hip to toss Theresa to the mats, moaning in pain as her arm ceased to function and shooting pains made every motion agony.

"Ich... gebe auf..." Moaned Theresa from the mat, signalling acknowledgment of her defeat. As it was, she definitely did not feel like doing any more sparring. She could barely feel her right leg through the pain, and her arm was barely any better. She took quite a while to collect herself before she could get back up slowly and limp away from the sparring mat to sit down off by the side, trying to ease out her cramped muscles. Schwarz, Erica's little cat-like creature, jumped off its perch in Diana's arms - Aina had brought the little girl to watch their sparring sessions at least three times a week - and walked over to Theresa, nuzzling its feline head against her aching leg.

Hazel's eyes nearly popped wide from the spectacle. When David had offered her to teach kung-fu, she certainly did not expect something you would probably see more often in a Johny Tchang holovid flick rather than in the academies and whatnot, but from the way he dispatched Theresa so easily - Theresa was easily the worst hand-to-hand fighter of the unit, after Hazel herself that is, but she was still quite a bit more than what Hazel could take on - Hazel felt rather happy with herself that she had taken the chance to ask David to teach her. At least that style of his makes it unnecessary for her to try matching power with the likes of Aina, or worse, Glenn.

"Still need a volunteer?" came a sudden query from Erica.

David smiled and shook his head slightly. "Not at this time, we're here for lessons, not for a tournament. Though I'll take you up on the offer later. Hazel will need sparring partners once she's had time to learn a few of the basics."

Turning to face Aina, he nodded to her. "Sufficient to your curiosity?"

"Interesting." She said. "And efficient as well, as long as you are certain she can learn to use that technique." She added after a moment's deliberation. "You better learn well from David, nestling."

Turning away from the observers, David motioned for Hazel to approach. "Right... as you just witnessed, Snake requires flexibility, precision and timing. We'll be working to improve all three."

He smiled slightly. "If you've studied dance or yoga, the flexibility part shouldn't be that much of a problem. If not, the stretching drills might be a little.... uncomfortable... until you become accustomed."


~After the training, Hazel's room~

Finally getting to stretch out in her bunk after a shower she badly needed, Hazel pondered what David had taught her just earlier. He was not kidding when he said the stretching drills might be uncomfortable, for right now, she felt as if her body had just been stepped on by a BattleMech, kneaded into a ball, and smeared onto a rough surface, and all that without even getting beaten up unlike the usual sessions with Aina. She wondered again why she always defied her grandmother's wish for her to be a nice, normal housewife and pursued a military career instead before the tiredness got the best of her and she descended into a dreamless slumber...

Old SLDF Mining Colony: DD-456-M-2
Nadir Jump Point
"Event Horizon"
Seeker Class DropShip
Attached to “Next Stop”, Nibo Merchant Class JumpShip
26th August, 3080
0700 Hours, Local Time


Zi Long scanned through the latest orbital scans and aerial photos that the Event and aerospace fighters had brought back. The pair of old DropShips had not moved an inch... literally. Trajectory calculations done had shown that they were sitting exactly where they were when the Stars last spotted them.

More of the pirates' ground had however, been revealed. Other than the few 'Mechs, Battle Armour suits and vehicles last identified, more of the enemy hardware had been spotted. At the space port, an Archer and a partial view of a Rifleman near to one of the hanger bays had been photographed. The Black Stars Captain nodded slightly to himself. The presence of the pair of them did not surprise him. Both were renowned for their anti air capabilities, and stationing them at the only Drop port made logical sense.

Over at the still under construction fort on the sand storm blasted hills, the Stars could now add a Vulcan light medium 'Mech to the enemy's TO&E in addition to the Panther they had scanned earlier. The sketchy intel reports provided by Nibo that the mines could only hold light BattleMechs had taken a blow. However, given that the forty five ton 'Mech barely qualified as a medium class BattleMech dampened his doubts a little. If it was the heaviest machine Lantern and Loch's people would come up against, he would be satisfied.

It was the main pirate base that had brought a slight smile to Zi Long's face. A quad Scorpion 'Mech had been stationed at the only entrance of the valley where the base had been built in addition to the Stalker and Centurion. None of the 'Mechs spotted there so far were jump capable, giving the ambush plan that David and himself had worked out a much higher chance of success. The appearance of a very rare Grasshopper did surprise Zi Long though. Not only was it a heavy machine, but it was the only machine they had spotted at the main lair that had jumping capabilities. On the other hand, if it was the only machine that could escape their planned trap, it would be easy enough to take care of.

Zi Long turned towards David, who was peering at the photos as well. "What do you think?"

David smiled coldly. "I think that someone down there thinks he's clever, but isn't nearly so smart as he thinks. If he got any more predictable he'd be a Davion."

He pointed to the map. "The Archer and the Rifleman at the airstrip make sense, exactly where you SHOULD put them for air defence according to accepted doctrine... but where are their bodyguards? Mechs like that, heavily long range oriented, with main batteries that are poor at short range NEED somebody to guard them in case someone gets close, or even worse, Battle Armour swarms them."

Zi Long nodded in agreement. "That doesn't mean that they don't have bodyguard units though. The pirates might have hidden them, or we might simply have missed them by chance."

David sighed. "So that tells us one of two things.... either the bodyguards are out of sight and well hidden, or they aren't there. Neither one says good things about the command structure. If you are keeping the short range units under cover, why not the long range? It doesn't make sense unless they don't have bodyguard units..... and that's even dumber."

"Hey, you and I both know what they say about dumb enemies being gifts from the Gods." Zi Long grinned.

Moving his hand over to the mine site, he tapped the castle photos with his fingertip. "And over here... I understand keeping the slaves too busy and tired to revolt, even building a strong point makes some sense if they plan to stay. The design is even a classic one, going back to Star League times." He chuckled. "Too bad they are wasting their time... it's a good design, battle tested. The problem is two-fold. First, they go to all the trouble to build a replica of a Star League type 4 defence fort, with overlapping gun positions, and interlocking fields of fire, but cripple the defence by building in a location that has dead zones and blind spots all around. Any halfway decent attacker could get almost to the walls before they could even see him, much less fire at him."

Zi Long stabbed a finger at a close up on one of the gun positions. "Plus the fact that they seemed to have been able to occupy only a small number of the positions. With infantry support weapons rather than BattleMech grade weapons."

Raking his hand back over his forehead, David coughed slightly, and then continued. "And second, the walls, while thick, seem to be constructed from the local sandstone! Lockheart's Battle Armour could shatter those walls without slowing down, much less what WE could do to them!" He shook his head, disgusted at the stupidity. "Hell, in just a few years, the local sandstorms will have the walls down."

"I think our people will have little trouble overcoming the objectives we laid out for them - as long as the pirates don't have any unpleasant surprises for us." Zi Long straightened himself, but his eyes were still on the photos. He looked up at David and winked. "Let's get our people together and give them the low down."
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