"It All Began With..." (Part 6)

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• Date: November 8, 3028
• Planet: Tomans, Jump Point Transfer Station
• Location: Merchant-class JumpShip 'Chauceri

Mikell and Reginald were strapped into chairs across the cabin from the two women, who both seemed wary of the two men. Mikell tried his best to look bored, looking at a datapad quietly while the two ladies squirm in their chairs. Reginald took his time glancing between the two before reaching into his jacket to slowly pull out a silver packet and gently massaged the contents. "I have vodka or apple juice." He said slowly. "If you want them, Miss Whiting? Miss Legrande?"

"Um, no." Simone shook her head, and glanced at Casey before speaking. "How did you know where to find us?"

"Well, we didn't." Mikell admitted with a sigh. "We were looking for you, mostly because we have your records from the Tamar War College. Interestingly enough, you two placed in the same percentile range and were about to be assigned to different units." He glanced to Reginald, who rolled his eyes away, shaking his head.

"How do you have that? We don't even have that." Casey blurted out.

"You would be surprised what you can buy with enough money and the right contacts. Your names are on the short list as we think the first two classes of the Tamar War College will inevitably be put to poor use. We don't think you will be remarkably missed, since you chose to desert anyway and run to Galatea."

Casey narrowed her eyes and pointed a finger at Mikell. "How do you know we were headed there? We could be going to Skye or somewhere else?"

He just smiled at her. "Reginald and I are on our way there as well. We have business to attend to." He looks to Reginald, who shrugged. "You're on the short list of people we had been looking into to join a mercenary outfit."

There was a long pause, as Simone struggled against the seat restraint and blurted out a swear word. "Are you kidding me?" She half-shouted.

Reginald let out a slow sigh and shook his head. "Keep your voice down, please. There is no need to be upset."

"I'm not upset, I'm just surprised."

"You sound upset. Have a drink." He gently pushed the silver packet to her through the microgravity. She took it and bit the tube open on the end before sucking at it. She coughed slightly, and glared at him. "Yes. I know. But you can't get good vodka in a squeeze packet for microgravity."

Casey lifted her hands. "Okay, all this aside, why do you want us? I know we didn't place that high in the percentile rankings."

"Casey Whiting." Mikell poked at the datapad with his thumb. "Placed in the seventy-first percentile, apparent skills lacking with heavy equipment and an affinity for mobility. Your final exam was using a GRF-1N Griffin Medium-class BattleMech, and you managed to bring your performance up from a sixty-fifth rating just on your ability in target practice using it. You have talent, which means we can work to improve your skill." He flicked his thumb across the pad surface. "Simone de Legrande, placing in the sixty-eighth percentile, final exam in a STG-3R Stinger which was what cost you a large drop from seventy-fifth."

"It's not my fault, the thing is too fragile and too under-armed." She muttered. "The rehearsal for the mission had a VLK-QA Valkyrie in the pool, but the exam didn't."

"How is that not your fault?"

"I trained in something completely different!"

Mikell sighed, and tapped the pad on his lap. "Sometimes a 'MechWarrior has to make do with what they have, and not what they wish they had. The optimal equipment is not always available, and broad training to use many different BattleMechs is a strength. I take it you enjoy a Valkyrie?"

Simone bit her lip, and sucked on the vodka packet a little more. "It has speed, mobility, and a good punch for its weight at distance. I could have supported the Griffin easily, but instead I had to get too close to properly evade weapons and was shredded."

"The Valkyrie also has an almost exclusive use within the Federated Suns."

She smirked at him, crowing triumphantly as she lifted fingers to waggle at him. "Haven't you heard? It's the Federated Commonwealth now."

"Haven't you heard?" Reginald put in, his tone mild. "The Davions aren't necessarily sharing their toys, just that new skirmisher they came up with holding an axe."

"The Hatchetman?" Casey snorted to herself, shaking her head. "That thing? Man, speaking of wanting to be in close and not being able to take it. I like a little more armor if I have to go toe-to-toe."

"Yeah, I haven't seen one in action myself. I know there was a lot of a big deal about something with an axe. I'd really rather have a couple extra lasers." Mikell waved his hand dismissively. "Maybe it's nicer, maybe not, I'll find out soon as I can get simulation data. Which I don't have. What I do have is this promise." He placed his hands palm-together, and then looked between the two. "Casey, I am going to try to get a Griffin for you." Reginald's head snapped to look at him in bewilderment, and his mouth fell open as Mikell continued. "And I can't promise it but I will try to put out feelers for a Valkyrie for you, Simone." They stared at him, and he held up a finger. "There are some conditions. First, you won't own them. I am not giving you BattleMechs just because you ask nicely."

Casey spoke up, weakly. "We didn't ask."

"I noticed." He said blandly. "Second, if you sign up and if I can find them, our charter has provisions which will allow you to put payments towards owning one of these 'Mechs for yourself."

The long silence continued, as the two looked at each other. Simone shrugged, finally speaking up. "We'll sign up, but we're going to hold you to this."

"It's in the charter. You put the claim and the money down and we'll have no problem. Get it blown up and you lose the claim, though."

"Deal."

"We'll need you to fill these out." He tapped his pad. "Do you have datapads with you? Nevermind, we'll pick some up before we transfer." That was an extra four hundred C-Bills he didn't need to spend, but he needed to appear prepared for these folk if he wanted to actually attract people to hire. "It's just a formality, your identifications and vital data so we can have it on file for the MRB."

A few minutes later, they had left and Reginald shook his head slowly. "You just promised them BattleMechs we don't have."

"We don't have them yet, but we will."

"Mikell, do you think we can just walk onto a planet and buy one off a corner?" Reginald's eyes were intent as he narrowed his eyes. "And we still don't have something for Olivia."

"We have a Warhammer. I just need to pick it up." He took out a packet of his own and sipped from it. "And find it. And figure out how to pay for it."

"Kerensky's balls, man!" Reginald hissed, face going pale. "You told me this was all settled. Everything was ready, we just needed to make a few connections and it was done. You've now made two promises we can't meet yet."

"Yes I told you it will be done, and it will be. I have three more lines we need to chase down. Alphecca is on the way, there is a DropShip and crew there a friend of mine told me about. Hard times, they had to abandon a mission before the outfit who hired them lost all their money paying out the default on their contract." Mikell tapped his datapad and handed it to Reginald, whose expression had regained some color and his expression some composure.

"Even so, hiring them on is not going to be cheap. Leopard-class DropShip, which means four BattleMechs and not much room for anything more. Luckily, we should be able to be okay for now." Reginald glanced at his datapad. "So, without any problems from you, what are we really looking into as valid leads on BattleMech hardware?"

"I picked up four messages when we stopped. Firstly, some friends on Blackjack told me a salvage yard there has responded to our offer and cited budget by offering three BattleMechs they assure me are within budget. They won't say officially what they are but my friend gave me a head's up they don't have anything heavier than a Centurion, usually." A pause, as Mikell brought up the readout data on it. Fifty tons, putting it in the upper end of the Medium weight class, and eight and a half of those tons were armor. A Class Ten Autocannon and ten-shot long-range missile launcher coupled with a pair of Medium Lasers meant it had a fair amount of punch. "That would be a good start, maybe. Fairly versatile-"

"Prone to a lot of problems, and runs with two ammunition-dependent weapons. Which right now between the BattleMaster and Orion, means we're spending a lot to restock." Reginald looked at his own pad. "The only saving grace is how the ammunition types overlap, but we'd be needing more of two types. I also think it's not in keeping with how Simone or Casey fight, since it's not slow but it's not as fast as they prefer. Olivia . . ." He looked up and did some work mentally. "I think she could handle it, but I don't think we'd get our best work out of her."

"I agree."

"So we're making progress on your understanding, good."

"Ha ha. Second message is about technical crew, we have some guys who used to work on salvage recovery and processing who are coming from Sudeten. That's from our friends at Trellshire-"

"Who I am surprised are still our friends. Or were in the first place."

"I asked them to keep an ear out for anyone who was dissatisfied with working for the company and would want to have more excitement in their life." Mikell shrugged. "Third message, not important because it's someone apologizing profusely about being unable to get us anything except Quickscell."

"Not even if it was brand new. Scratch that, especially if it just rolled off the factory line." Reginald glared at the pad. The Quickscell Company had a reputation, deservedly, for putting out low-quality vehicles and goods. The details were more messy, as it was really their quality control which suffered from a need to simply push hardware out into service to meet sales quotas. Any competent technician team could fix most of the problems, even though these problems weren't supposed to exist when something was coming fresh out of the factory. Nevertheless, the hardware was useful enough and their productions largely were restricted to support vehicles over combat vehicles. It was just the failures were so egregious due to any technicians being able to spot the flaws and fix them in a day.

"We may have to handle them someday, but I'll let him know we're not yet in the market for vehicles." A glance down. "Fourth message, we may have some contracts we could pick up within the Federation of Skye. We're nowhere near ready yet, but it's good to know someone can get us something. Fifth message, more support crew." He stopped and read that slower. "We're going to need to figure out whether to make a detour or have them go through the trouble of coming to us."

"What are we talking about, and how far the detour?"

"Devil's Rock."

"That's a name I don't feel good about. Wait." He frowned, thinking. "That's over the border into the Free Worlds League. One of the more active areas too. No, this seems like a bad idea. What's it about?"

"I got a medical research doctor who says she's willing to jump the border and work for us." Mikell tapped the datapad quietly. "And I'll note, she works for the League's provider for medical supplies in most of the coreward territories. The Atlantis Medical Foundation."

"It still sounds like we'd be borrowing trouble. But we need a doctor, and she probably is more than qualified." Reginald let out his breath in a slow hiss between his teeth, thinking. "See if she can meet us on Galatea."

Mikell checked the time, nodding. "I can get that sent to the HPG station before we jump. Things are starting to shape up."

"Give it about six months before we celebrate."