"It All Began With..." (Part 3) in White Reach | World Anvil

"It All Began With..." (Part 3)


  • Date: October 23, 3028; 15:22 Local Time
  • Planet: Twycross
  • Location: Twycross HPG Station

Mikell rode the lift to the surface access, and paused to make sure he had his jacket on and no part of any uniform on. Even though it looked calm outside one could never tell on this planet whether a dust storm would kick up. And ComStar insisted the station had to be on the surface without an enclosed approach, lest it interfere with the functioning of the station itself. Mikell was relatively certain the reasoning was simply to prevent casual use, but he was needing to check on this. He closed his jacket up and tugged a hood over his head before hurrying out along the path.

The doors opened, and the Acolyte at the front desk looked up. "Welcome to the HPG installation, sir, on this fine day." He watched Mikell open the jacket and sighed out. "Can I help you, sir?"

"I certainly hope so, I would like to speak to someone about mercenary work. Is there someone available at this time?"

"Ahh, you will want to speak to Adept Lin. This man here can escort you." A younger man approached, looking Mikell over before motioning him to follow. "I hope we can help you, sir!"

Along the way, Mikell glanced around and was glad everything seemed in place here. The halls were actually broad, but the ceilings were lot to fit in with the few surface buildings on Twycross he had been inside so far. Even so, he recognized many oddities hanging along the way which looked like light fixtures but didn't emit any light. The Acolyte stopped at a door and knocked, waiting before opening it and stepping inside. Mikell waited patiently outside for several minutes before the Acolyte walked back out. "Thank you for waiting, Adept Lin will see you now."

The room was quite small, having a desk and two chairs in it, along with another door at the far side. Sitting at the desk was an older woman dressed in very simple and neatly pressed white robes, her hands flat on the surface of the desk. Mikell glanced down, noticing the surface of the desk was actually a display for a data console controlled by touch. She smiled, pleasantly, but he could tell the smile visibly was more protocol than meant when her eyes met his. "Good afternoon, I am Adept Lin. Do you need to record a contract to be offered or do you wish to accept a contract?"

He frowned, and shook his head slowly. "Actually, I must admit to being fairly new to this." She opened her hand, indicating the chair across from her. He sat down slowly, thinking on how to phrase this and not come across as having both too much information and not enough of it at the same time. "I'm looking to form an outfit, but I need to know if it is necessary to travel to the Mercenary's Star to do so."

"Ah." Her eyes glanced him over, hands relaxing to the surface of the desk. "You plan to charter a new outfit? That will be difficult to do far from Galatea, or as you called it 'the Mercenary's Star'. You see, the stars would need to be right for such a task, and the currents of stellar winds would have to be favorable." She pursed her lips, and tapped several buttons. "If you have your datapad set to receive files, I can send you the basic package so you can have that ready for when you arrive there."

Mikell nodded, and reached into his pockets, frowning. "I seem to have left without it. Perhaps a small data storage unit so I can keep this from being a waste of your time?" He'd left the datapad in his bunk, specifically so they wouldn't be able to use it this way. He knew it was just as easy for them to peek at what data was on the pad as it was for them to transmit the files they wanted to put there. Along with the potential to hide something in that transmission which would let them access it later.

"Of course. I can have one prepared for you, but we do not have many to spare. I would have to insist on a price of fifty ComStar bills for the service." She held up her hands. "Naturally, you would be purchasing the unit so you would be free to use it on its own."

"I can do that. What else would I be needing before I arrive on Galatea?"

"You will need to have an outfit charter to file, along with the identities of members who are intended to be active. Any equipment you have will also have to be registered, so bring serial numbers of any BattleMechs or combat vehicles you will have in your outfit." She paused. "Should you not have those, or your technicians cannot find those, we at ComStar can research the information for you and provide the numbers to you."

"For a modest fee."

"Naturally, you would be expected to pay for the time spent recovering this data." She smiled slightly as she continued. "Once we have a charter to file, the registration of your BattleMechs and other hardware, the identities of your outfit members, we would be able to move forward with a verification process to ensure everything is legal and ready to proceed." She nodded once, and held a hand out palm-up. "Then we would require a regular fee for keeping you listed on the rolls of the Mercenary Review Board, depending on the size of your outfit and your standing with the Board. This fee would then allow you to claim to be legitimate and respectable mercenaries so long as the Board is willing to list your outfit and you have continued to conduct yourselves according to regulations." She paused. "I will be sure to include the regulations - unabridged - with the rest of the basic package with no upcharge for this service."

"That is generous of you, thank you Adept."

"Please, think nothing of it. ComStar and the Mercenary Review Board are dedicated to making certain everything is as pleasant as it can be for all involved in the trade. Employers, mercenaries, and the public."

"What about ComStar itself?"

Her lips tightened slightly. "ComStar as an organization does not recognize mercenaries as any official part of their organization, save for times when extreme measures are called for. I'm sure you've heard of such events, Mister Sethan, where mercenaries have been contracted for punitive reprisals against those who have done harm to ComStar personnel or facilities?"

"Yes, of course. And you tend to hire very highly-skilled outfits for this as well." It was well-known to everyone in the Inner Sphere you do not mess with ComStar for two specific reasons. Firstly, they were the keepers of the cheapest and timeliest version of interstellar communication you could readily find. The hyperpulse generator stations sent messages up to sixty light-years away, at a near-instantaneous rate when the stations were actively transmitting. Since it cost an enormous amount of power to turn a generator on, this was usually done on a daily basis and the stations had integrated power plants specifically for this purpose. Even so, a message could travel quite a significant distance quickly if you were willing to pay for priority transmission rates. Taking a swipe at ComStar caused them to either raise your costs for transmission as a punitive measure, or simply to deny you service at any and all facilities in a practice called "interdiction". If you needed messages sent, you had to do so through courier vessels either specially set aside for the duty or JumpShips who would be willing to take the message for a fee. A fee largely determined by how much the captain thought you could afford to pay, since it would be obvious you either would not or could not use ComStar services. The only way out of interdiction was to make any restitution ComStar demanded, immediately, or find the demands would get progressively less pleasant for you. If it was an outfit or force being interdicted, sometimes leaving that group wouldn't get you entirely off the hook; this was to prevent people from making this serious error of judgement and trying to get away from the consequences by jumping to another company.

The second reason nobody messed with ComStar was their unwritten policy of reprisal. The practice of interdiction could be levied against a planet fairly simply. It was sometimes even done so because a planetary ruling body or person lost their sanity momentarily and tried to play games with ComStar, just to hammer home the point. But for those who couldn't necessarily be nailed down to a place which could be interdicted, ComStar had another practical solution in mind. Earlier on, they would pay mercenaries quite well to find targets. To be more specific, the mercenaries were contracted to find, apprehend, and publicly make an example of individuals or organizations who felt they were beyond reprisals such as interdiction.

This all meant people went out of their way not to antagonize ComStar employees, from the Precentors in charge of individual stations on down to the lowest Acolytes who would be stuck running errands off-site. And nobody, not a single sane individual, dared to involve one of the HPG stations in a conflict in an attempt to cash in on this neutrality. It was a quick way to become famous in (almost) the worst of ways.

Mikell thought it over for a long time, then nodded. "If you would not mind, and if you have it, I would like two data storage devices. One of which containing the 'basic package' we discussed, and if you can manage it I could use a second device to hold all relevant electronic documentation for the hall on Galatea."

"We can manage that, for an additional charge."

"Shall we say a hundred and twenty C-Bills?"

Her eyebrows went up, briefly. "Mister Sethan, that is quite generous to add a donation to the value of two devices. Might I ask why?"

"I don't want to give you the wrong impression, Adept." He folded his hands before him and bowed his head. "If you think I'm angling for preferential treatment, I'm not expecting it. I merely want to slide through the many layers of bureaucratic nonsense and be at work on my new outfit's documentation as soon as possible."

Her eyes narrowed a bit, but he was able to tell the sentiment amused her to no end. "I cannot, in good conscience, make any promises of the sort. But if you will wait here then I will return with a final word on what we can do to help you, Mister Sethan. One minute, please." She stood up, and walked to the door at the far end of the room, stepping through. He heard the tell-tale hiss of a seal, which was undoubtedly combined with a field to prevent him from hearing anything on the other side. ComStar did enjoy being secretive, when they could be.

It was only a little over two minutes' time before she returned with her smile back to the normally practiced one she had earlier. "I regret to inform you, you will indeed need to book transportation to go to Galatea personally. However, I have let them know to place your name on a file of interested parties to try to facilitate the process when you arrive there. Whenever it may happen, as we at ComStar are well aware of difficulties in securing prompt transportation on the JumpShips as of late."

"Understood, Adept."

"As well, if you would wait at the front counter we will deliver your data storage modules to you shortly. An Acolyte is already performing all necessary tasks to ensure the documentation encoded in them is free of errors, up to date, and in order. As well as making sure both storage modules have been properly cleansed of any unfortunate data daemons." Mikell's eyebrow twitched at the term, knowing how much ComStar valued their mystique - almost as much as their privacy. "Will there be anything else?"

"No, many thank you for your cooperation and prompt service, Adept." He stood up, and bowed his head before leaving the room. The Acolyte which escorted him here was still waiting outside, and straightened up as the door hissed open. "Back to the front lobby, please?"

"I am aware."

"No sense of humor?"

He shook his head, and bowed his head slightly to one side. "Apologies, sir, we are expected to be courteous to our guests and customers. As such we are supposed to overlook such things, in favor of a more direct manner of discourse than sarcasm or jokes."

Mikell was quiet, through the rest of the visit, save for the words of gratitude as they delivered a plastic box containing the data units. Once back in the shelter of the surface access lift, he sighed, looking over a shoulder. "And that, friend, is why I didn't want to work for ComStar before." Mikell muttered under his breath, shaking his head slowly. He used the time the lift was descending to check the data storage units over, then he quietly checked the lining and construction of the box. No surprises, not this time, he was pleased to note. Still, he should be careful with how he used these data storage units.

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