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Can you believe that we have now reached 68 pages in MS Word (Georgia 11 font, single-spaced) in a BattleTech story without seeing a single BattleMech! 

MA

May 10, 3056
Scorpion Strike Team
Clayborne Remembered
Circinus, Circinus Federation

The bodies were still twitching when Jason strode into the parlor; he could hear the whine  of the lasers and crash of the flash-bangs both above and below and he frowned as voices rang out in the distance, “CLEAR, CLEAR”, but no reports of their target were made.  “Was out intelligence wrong?” he asked Amanda quietly.

“No, Lambert purchased her—she should be here, this is the only property he owns,” his sibkin replied in a soft voice.  Jason nodded and he began to speak, but then he noticed Lucien staring intently at a painting.

“Lucien?”

“Star Captain—the eyes in that painting moved, I am certain of it,” and Jason saw it as well as whoever was standing in the walls behind the painted pulled back.  The Elemental lowered his shoulder and he charged the portrait and slammed into it—and through it into the hidden passageway beyond.

“Strike Alpha and Beta—hidden passage, level 1!  Follow me!” Jason snapped into his radio as he drew his pistol with one hand and a zulkari in the second and followed Lucien as the former Falcon chased after the person who had been spying upon them, Amanda in his wake.

The passage was narrow—barely wide enough to allow Lucien passage—and dark, but ahead Jason could hear the sounds of combat; he emerged into a room with no doors and no windows, and Lucien was fighting against four men, all of whom were armed.

The once-Falcon, now-Scorpion Bondsman tore into them in a fury, ignoring their blades and stun-sticks as his fists and feet and elbows and knees slammed into them in a whirlwind flurry of blows—one of the men drew back a long knife and began to plunge it into the Elemental’s back, but Jason fired a single round—which arrived just as Lucien spun around and caught the man’s arm in one might fist, snapping the bones in the forearm like twigs.

Past the enraged Bondsman, Jason could their target lying unconscious upon a divan—she was chained and apparently drugged, in a stupor where she could not understand what was happening.  With a meaty thunk, the last of Lucien’s opponents fell, and he stood there, slowing his breathing for a moment before he nodded at Jason.    The Elemental knelt down and pulled a ring of keys from the belt of one of the men, and tossed them to Amanda, who unlocked the woman’s chains.

“Strike Team, package retrieved, begin extraction!” Jason ordered as Amanda found the right key and unlocked the manacles.  Lucien picked up the woman and they made their way quickly through the narrow passage, through the parlor and the entry hall, and into the van.  Evelyn was standing besides the door and she waited until Jason boarded before she stepped inside.  “GO!” she ordered, even before closing the doors, and the van’s tires screamed as it burnt rubber and tore away down the streets.

“Mission time?” asked Jason.

“Two minutes, ten seconds, start to finish.  We have fourteen minutes to detonation . . . mark,” answered Amanda.  “It will take nine to get to the spaceport and loaded, so we are good on the dead-line, Jason.”

The Scorpion nodded and he took a canteen one of the Warriors passed him, taking a long pull of the tepid water within.  The woman—the target—finally began to struggle, but another elemental held an injector to her neck; it hissed and she collapsed unconscious.

“Lucien.”

“Yes, Star Captain?”

Jason grinned.  “Hold out your arm, Lucien,” he commanded as he redrew one of his zulkari.  The hulking Elemental drew in a sharp intake of air as Jason lifted the red bond cord that wrapped around his wrist, and the Scorpion officer nodded.  The other Elementals grinned their own approval.  “Tonight, Bondsman, you showed me that your fighting prowess is more than good enough for a Warrior of Clan Goliath Scorpion.”  The blade of the knife flashed, and the severed cord fell towards the floor of the van, but another Warrior caught it and did not allow it to touch the surface.  “I free you this night of the red cord of bond—your first step in becoming acknowledged as abtakha is now complete.  Among the Scorpions, none will now question your fitness to bear weapons, Bondsman.  Although not yet a Warrior of the Clan, you may even wear Elemental Armor once more, under my command.”

Jason leaned back in the cramped bay and he sheathed the zulkari.  The Warrior who had caught the cord handed it to Lucien, and she grinned.  “We have a tradition in the Scorpions, Bondsman Lucien,” she said.  “A small ceremony in which the cord is burnt and the Bondsman is honored—would you allow us to arrange for such?”

“I would be honored,” Lucien said, but then he shook head.  “After I return from accompanying the Star Captain to Laredo, that is.”

Soft laughter filled the compartment, and Jason grinned.  “Phase II is now underway, Warriors—now we find out if we came all this way for nothing, or for a prize that has so far remained hidden and lost.”  He took another sip of water and then passed the canteen back.  “And as soon as we are out of this nest of dezgra bandits and en route back home, I intend to throw you Warriors a party that will be spoken of in the Remembrance itself,” more laughter rang out.   Jason grinned and he continued.  "And yes, I will open my personal cellar to quench your thirst that night.  Try to leave me some brandy, at the least."

“Well done, Warriors.  Well done,” Jason finished.

We try to please. Really enjoying this story MA!

May 10, 3056
WBS Light of Hope
Deep Space
Waypoint 1027-B, Circinus Federation

“Transmission confirmed—we have our orders,” snapped Demi-Precentor Francis Hyugin.  “Jump coordinates plotted?”

“Aye, sir.  Destination Circinus Proximity Point Three.”

“Start the clock, all hands prepare for jump,” the commander ordered.

The bustle of crew across the bridge looked efficient and ordered to the Adept who sat next to the commander of the ancient Baron-class Destroyer, only recently returned to active duty in the Word’s small—but growing—Fleet. 

“Will we emerge within weapons range?” he asked.

Hyugin frowned.  “Jumps are not that precise, Adept Smyth—we may emerge in weapons range, we may be several thousand kilometers outside of range,” he paused, and smiled grimly, “and we may emerge directly atop of them if they are preparing to jump and destroy both ships.”

“Surely the latter is a remote possibility,” the Adept asked, and the commander shrugged in response.

“It happens, Adept.  And considering that this crew only reported aboard three weeks ago and that we are still evaluating the reactivation of all systems—I would not bet the farm against it.”

“Understand, Demi-Precentor, I want their ship disabled—my ROM troops will secure it and add it to our own forces.”

The commander did not frown—he did not allow any expression to reach his face.  Although he outranked the Adept, ranks did not matter to ROM.  They ensured the loyalty of the Word of Blake and they did so with a fervor that shocked the uninitiated.  Ever since the Schism that had divided ComStar, ROM had become even more frightening, resorting to . . . terrible experimentation into cybernetic augmented warriors such as the one sitting beside him.

“With Blake’s Grace, we shall do so, Adept.”

“See that you do.  You know the price of failure.”

“All systems charged, coordinates plotted, the ship is ready for jump, Demi-Precentor,” the XO reported.

“Jump!” Hyugin barked.

May 10, 3056
Shuttle GS-417
Laredo
Circinus, Circinus Federation

The shuttle dropped precipitously as the wings caught a drown-draft, but the pilot compensated almost immediately.  Heavy droplets of rain and flurries of hail hit the cockpit windows hard, eliminating what little vision the thick clouds would have allowed; the darkness of the interior of the thunderstorm was randomly lit by fierce bolts of lightning—two had already struck the shuttle.

“Warm up the radar,” Tyrell ordered as they passed through five thousand meters.  Jason grimaced, but in this case it was the pilot in charge and not him—he brought the sensors on-line.  A moment passed, and then two, and then the display lit with images of the terrain below and ahead.  “Clear,” Jason reported.  “Ridges to the south-west, two kilometers—looks as though we drifting north-north-east.”

“Aff,” the pilot replied tersely.  “Heavy winds, Star Captain,” but he brought the shuttle back on course for the designated landing zone.  Another bolt of lightning struck the shuttle and the electronics flickered, but then they came back on.  “This is not ideal conditions for a vertical landing,” Tyrell muttered.

“You can land us, right Tyrell?” Jason asked.

“Landing is not the problem—keeping the shuttle in piece while landing, that is problem, Star Captain.  Passing two thousand meters—where the devil is that clearing we picked out?”

Jason compared the coordinates with the map images—Tyrell was right, the clearing that had been picked from orbit was not there . . . and then he groaned.  “It is a fire-scar—old growth forest around it, and what we thought was  a clearing is new growth, a different shade to the vegetation.”

“Well . . . shit,” Tyrell muttered.  “Star Captain, I have got to have a clear space to land this bird—triple canopy jungle is not an option.”

A third voice from further back in the cockpit spoke up.  “We are armed, Pilot Tyrell,” the Technician flight engineer said.  “Can be blast a hole in the canopy?”

“We could, Technician Robin,” answered Jason, but it would give away our position to those after us.”  He stared at the digital imaging of the landscape and then he nodded.  “Tyrell, this river—is that bend wide enough to get the shuttle down?”

“Aff—barely.  But is there room under the canopy overhang—and that close to the river bank, that ground might be awfully soft.”

“One way to find out, Pilot—take her down,” Jason ordered.

“Aff.  Robin, I am putting the wings in full swept—retract the outer panels for docking, that will cut our beam by a full-third.”

“Aff,” the tech answered briskly as the shuttle slowed still more.   â€œVertical lift-fans on-line and in stand-by mode.”

The massive shuttlecraft slowed to a crawl it gradually dropped altitude as it sank down over the raging river, the lift-jets blasting up plumes of water spray from the water below.

On the holographic display, the forward-looking infrared imager showed the thick vegetation and Tyrell nodded.  “I think we have just enough room,” he whispered as he eased the shuttle under the trees.  Jason watched intently, but he kept his hands away from the controls as the Pilot gradually glided the shuttle like a thread into the eye of a needle, and then he let out a breath as Tyrell came to a halt, the bole of a giant hardwood just millimeters from the tip of the nose.

“Deploy landing skids,” the pilot ordered.

“Skids down and locked,” Robin answered.

“Now we see if this is solid ground or mud, Star Captain,” he said as he began to reduce power to the lifters.  The shuttle descended and Jason could feel when the skids hydraulics began to take up the weight of the craft and then the vessel was motionless.  Tyrell waited for several moments and then he nodded.  “Looks like it is solid enough,” he said as he spun down the engines and the roar slowly died away.

“Good news is we are down in one piece, Star Captain.  The bad news is we are thirty-four kilometers away from where you wanted to be.”

“No, Pilot Tyrell, the bad news is we cannot depend on this shuttle not being found by our pursuers—which means I cannot leave you and Technician Roberts here.  So you will be joining us on our march through this jungle and swamp.”

The lightly build pilot grimaced and he nodded.  “On the bright side, you need me and Robin to fly you out—so try and keep the two of us alive, Star Captain.”

“True, Pilot.  And if you will excuse me,” Jason said as he unstrapped from the safety restraints, “I should inform our people that we have a long walk ahead of us.  And a short time to get there.”

May 11, 3056
Scorpion Expeditionary Party
Laredo
Circinus, Circinus Federation

“You enjoying the hike through this jungle, Mathias?” asked Jason quietly as he helped the scientist ascend a steep embankment.

“Technically, it is not a jungle, but a rain-forest.  Circinus does have two rather dense jungles—far more so than this, and with less dry land, higher levels of humidity, an- . . .”

“I do not need a dissertation on the subject, Scientist,” Jason scolded with a chuckle.  “How are your Technicians holding up?”

Mathias looked back down the slope and he nodded as his men kept plodding along, one just now starting up the incline.  “They could use a rest, Star Captain—we all could.  Dawn in two hours, and we have been marching for five.  How much further?”

“About half-way to the coordinates I was given,” Jason answered.  He frowned as he looked at the scientist and then at the loose line of Scorpions moving up the hill.  Then he sighed and keyed his radio.

“Scorpions, form up on me—we are going to take thirty.  Evelyn, I want the perimeter swept and remote sensors deployed, assist her Lucien.  No fires.”

The only answer was clicks in his earpiece as the others signaled their acknowledgement.

“About bloody time, boy,” Walker said as clung to the rope and held out one hand for assistance in getting over the final hump.  Jason reached down and grasped his forearm and pulled him up to the narrow plateau situated on the top of the ridge-line.  “Just our luck, the ridges run perpendicular to our route, eh, Star Captain?” he panted.

“Could be worse, Walker.  Could be a lot worse.”

“Yep, I won’t argue with that, Warrior,” he shook his head and then he patted Jason on the shoulder and found a granite boulder to sit down on, sighing as he slid off the pack he wore.

“Go ahead, Mathias, I will help the rest up,” Jason ordered.  “Get what rest you can.”

“Neg, Star Captain,” he answered with a grin.  “Haven’t had this much fun since I left my sibko.”  And he reached down to extend his arm to Amanda, pulling her to the top, then he slid his pack off of his back and passed it to Jason.  “You can carry this over there for me, though, if you do not mind.”

Jason snorted and he took the heavy pack and walked over to the rock Walker was lying down on; he sat down the scientists ruck and then his own, before squatting down with a sigh, as he took a long pull of water from the drinking tube on his hydration pack.

“What is for breakfast, Warrior?” he asked Walker as the old man pulled out a few ration packs. 

“Does it matter, boy?  It all tastes like crap anyway.”

Jason chuckled softly.  He lifted his arm and checked the codex he wore—it was still two hours until dawn, and the temperature had bottomed out at a stifling 30-degrees centigrade . . . and the humidity was only 89%.  And before the sun set tomorrow, it should be over 40-degrees with the same atmospheric moisture.  He shook he head, sending droplets of sweat flying into the air, and then he pulled off one glove and his bush hat, and briskly rubbed his scalp.

“Walker?” he asked.

“Yes?” the old man answered as he swallowed a spoonful of grey stew.

“Where are all those critters you promised me?”

“They are reptiles for the most part, Star Commander.  Most are underground, right now, but there are some out there—like that snake on the tree behind you . . . easy, he’s not venomous.  Come dawn, when the temperature starts to climb and the mist rises, they will emerge from their dens—hungry,” he took another bite and nodded.  “There are some nocturnal species, of course.  But the dangerous ones are few and far between; unless we get real unlucky and meet up with one of Clayborne’s Frilled Dragons, we shouldn’t have a problem, not until dawn at least.”

“They cannot be dragons, Walker; they do not have wings,” Jason joked as he opened  his own ration pack and spooned through the pasta and marinara sauce. 

“Well, being as they are as big and temperamental as a black rhino from Terra, be glad they don’t have wings.  Nasty critters, their saliva is packed with bacteria that infects the wounds—just like the Komodo Dragons of Terra.  They bite and then they slink off as their prey dies from the infections, then they eat the rotten meat.  Unless they are protecting their nest, in which case, they will just outright kill you.”

Walker ate another bite of the stew and shook his head.  “We are going to have to cross that river today, boy—and that won’t be easy.  Laredo’s lizards, they like the water.  There are things in the rivers that would eat a Nile croc for lunch, and come back for seconds.  Unless there’s white water, they will be there in force.”

“Understood—they are not particular about what they eat are they?”

“Hardly.  Why?”

“And they are drawn to blood?”

“Like flies to shit, boy.”

“Well then.  Perhaps we should arrange a meal for them, downstream of our crossing point when we reach there tomorrow.”

Walker smiled.  “That might work—it might not.  But, it is better than nothing.”

Jason took a bite and he chewed the cold, gummy food slowly, telling his taste buds to silence the protests they were screaming.  He swallowed and dipped his spoon back in the pack, extracting a ball of some form of protein—but processed beyond all recognition.  “How certain are you that you can find this place, Walker?  The truth?”

“Oh, I can find it.  But whether or not I find it before those who chase us catch up—that is a whole ‘nother question,” he put his spoon in the pouch and fished around for a moment, and then he shook his head.  “If your information is right, we might be able to get in at the evacuation tunnel to the west, maybe even before they catch us.  But the SLDF hid those things well—and just know is in a square kilometer doesn’t mean shit until you search that entire square kilometer . . . even then, we might miss it.”

He pulled out the spoon and took another bite, and for several moments neither man spoke as they chewed their food.  At last Walker looked back up.  “And if we do find, they are on top of us, that means they will probably know about it too.”

“How long until they could get it up and running?”

“Took the Dragoon’s better part of a decade to get the factories on Outreach on-line and spitting out ‘Mechs.  I figure the Circinians ain’t going be as qualified.”

“And the Word?”

“Them bastards might well do it sooner.  All depends on what sort of shape the place is in.  Might not be anything there worthwhile, you know.”

“I know, but we have to see to make certain.”

“Aye.  That we do,” and Walker quickly ate the last three bites of his meal, and then handed the empty pack to Jason.  “Bury that for me, along with yours, Star Captain, if’n you don’t mind, that is.  I am going to get some shuteye while I can.”

Jason nodded.  “Evelyn,” he broadcast.  “Perimeter set?”

“Aff, sensors in place.”

“Good, get your point—and Lucien—back here, have some chow, and get some rest before we head back out.  Slave the sensors to my codex—I will keep an eye on them.”

“Aff, Star Captain.”

May 11, 3056
ROM Special Operation Strike Force Smythe
Laredo
Circinus, Circinus Federation

“I thought you claimed to know the location of this hidden facility,” Justin Hawk asked the ROM agent  over the holographic link.

Smythe frowned and he cocked his head to one side.  “Demi-Precentor . . . are you questioning me?” he asked softly.

The Word of Blake official swallowed and he quickly shook his head.  “N-no,” he answered.  “I just do not understand why your men are roaming the jungle instead of waiting for these Clanners at the facility.”

Smythe sighed.  “Demi-Precentor, we know the approximate location of General Kerensky’s old headquarters on Laredo . . . unfortunately, the details of its exact coordinates were never entered into the secure archives, if we even had them to begin with.  That is what my term was tasked with—once you had secured an agreement with McIntyre, then we were to located the exact coordinates and breach the facility.  The Master wishes us to discover if the rumors Kerensky had ‘Mech production lines here are true—and whether or not we can restore them to function in service of the Word.  This . . . incident has made McIntyre side with us, so now I can do my job—once the Clanner infestation of this world has been cleansed.”

Smythe paused and he smiled at the pick-up lens of the field communicator.  “Now, could you explain why the overflights I requested four hours ago have not yet arrived, Demi-Precentor?”

“The shuttles are  en route to your location, Adept,” Hawk replied with as much indignation as he could muster.  “They consume less fuel staying atmospheric, which will give you more time on station.”

“That is acceptable, Demi-Precentor.  I shall contact you again once we have purified the infidels,” and with that, without waiting for a reply, Smythe terminated the communication link.  “Jonas,” he said quietly, “you have word from the search parties?”

“Squad Sigma reports one casualty—but contact was broken.  They are attempting to track those responsible.  I have vectored Tau and Upsilon to assist in the search.”

The acolyte showed Smythe the location on a map and the older ROM agent nodded to himself.  “Right where we thought they would try to cross the river.  Our information on the location of the ruins must be correct—pursue them, but not too close.  If they know the exact coordinate, Jonas, they might well lead us to the facility and cut months off of our mission here.  Afterwards, we can take our time killing them.”

“As Blake wills, Sir,” the junior officer replied.

“And the Master dictates,” Smythe added.


May 11, 3056
Scorpion Expeditionary Party
Laredo
Circinus, Circinus Federation

“The remote sensors we left behind confirm it, Star Captain,” Evelyn whispered.  “They are following us—but slowly.  Right now, they are about a kilometer and a half behind us.”

Jason took a sip of tepid water from his hydration pack as he considered the situation.  “Are they communicating?” he asked.

“Aff.  They are using encrypted burst transmissions.”

“So . . . either they are waiting for additional forces to cut in ahead of us—lay out an ambush, perhaps . . . or,” his voice trailed off.  And then he nodded.  “Or they want the HQ and they are letting us lead them to it.”  He paused again and listened the distant faint roar of a shuttle’s engines at high altitude.  “Point Commander, I believe that is time we discouraged them from following us too closely.  How many directional mines do we have?”

“A dozen, Star Captain.”

“Good.  Let us lay in a surprise for them once we cross the gorge,” he finished.  He gauged the distance again—the two cliff edges narrowed together here, but the separation was still at least ten meters if it was a decimeter.  Unfortunately, the gorge was not likely to narrow any further.

“We will cross here—Lucien, we will require the grapple launcher you are carrying.  Can you put the hook in the fork of that tree trunk on the opposite side?”

Lucien took a long look at the target and then he hefted the grapple launcher and its coils of high-tension line.  “Aff, Star Captain.  But the hook may not hold against my mass—or those of your security team.”

“Understood, Bondsman.  Amanda, you are the lightest Warrior we have—can you cross once Lucien makes the shot and secures the anchor?”

“With ease, Star Captain,” she answered, shedding her pack and all weapons except for a laser pistol and a zulkari.

“Take the shot, Lucien,” Jason ordered quietly.  The elemental raised the grapple launcher and he carefully aimed, raising the barrel as he evaluated the distance and the wind.  There was a sudden POP and a puff of carbon dioxide as the gas cartridge propelled the grapple and line forward—the slender shaft flew through the air in a ballistic, wobbling slightly as the line trailed out behind it, then it flew through the Y-fork in the tree’s trunk and Lucien grunted.  He pressed a button on the grapple launcher and the small motor within began to retract the line and the hook, the prongs of which had automatically deployed once it struck the ground beyond.  Suddenly the motor began to whine, and the line hung taut—Lucien shut down the grapple launcher and extracted the line, wrapping it around his arm four times and he pulled hard with all of his mass . . . and the hook remained seated in the timber.

Jason nodded and his team anchored the line on this side securely around a nearby tree as he walked up to the edge.  Beneath him, the gorge dropped nearly fifty meters to the rock-strewn river below.  He turned back to Amanda, who was pulling on a climber’s rig attached to a a bulky device with a paired set of twin polymer wheels; Evelyn tied three heavier ropes to her belt as well.  Jason approached her and he made a final check of the rig, pulling against the buckles and clasps and then he at last nodded in satisfaction.

Lucien and Evelyn lifted her up and she fixed the upper wheels to the line, then the lower, and locked the device in place, buckling onto the crawler with D-rings set in her harness.  She nodded and both the Elementals stepped away and she hung there suspended on her back, facing up to the line, and she gave Jason a thumbs up.  Jason smiled and he made the hand signal that WarShip crew gave the pilot of an aerospace fighter authorized for launch; she grinned in reply and saluted, and began to pull herself along the line slowly crossing over the gorge.

“Star Captain,” Evelyn said as Amanda pulled her across the chasm centimeter by centimeter.  “The mines will delay them, certainly—but they will be able to follow the tracks these technicians are leaving, if our opponents are even reasonably skilled.”

“You have a suggestion, then, Point Commander, quiaff?”

“Aff.  Once on the far side, I take the security team and the technicians, and we lead our pursuers on a wild goose chase—away from you and your team and away from the facility.  You, Star Commander Djerassi, Pilot Tyrell, your bondsman, Walker Roche, and Scientist Mathias will go to ground until those who hunt us pass, and then you proceed to the facility without having the hounds on your heels.”

Jason frowned.  “You realize that it is extremely unlikely that you and your Warriors will ever leave this planet again, if I accept your suggestion, quiaff?”

“Aff.  Star Captain, this is our job.  The mission has to come first, and our legacy will live on in our genetic heritage.  And the civilians have had no survival training to speak of—except for the Scientist.  I and my point will lead them as far away as we can, until the civilians drop from exhaustion, and then we will show our foes the meaning of the word Warrior.”

The Seeker nodded again and he sighed.  Evelyn was a true Scorpion—she would make certain that none of those under her command survived to be interrogated.  “What of Technician Robin?  She has some survival training, after all.”

“Not enough, Star Captain.  Not for this.  She is much better than the other civilians, but she is still leaving a trail behind that any competent tracker can follow.”

It gnawed at him, leaving civilians to play the role of the sacrificial lamb, but damn it, Evelyn was right.  He nodded.  “Very well, Point Commander—pull the data-storage modules from codexes and we will return them to the Clan, along with your giftake.”

The woman smiled and she nodded.  “We will do the Clan proud, Star Captain.”

“Aff.  And I will see to it that you and your Warriors are honored.”

Jason turned back to the chasm and he noted that Amanda had crossed, unhooked her harness and secured the three parallel ropes upon which the rest of the team would make their own transit.

“Civilians first, then our gear and weapons, followed by Mathias, Walker, and Tyrell—Elementals last,” he ordered as he pulled off his own heavy rucksack began to buckle on his climbing harness.  “Quickly, Scorpions.