"It All Began With..." (Part 7)

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• Date: November 13, 3028
• Planet: Alphecca
• Location: Jump Point Transfer Facility, Leopard-class DropShip 'Vagrant's Pride'

The transfer station at Alphecca was simpler and smaller than the one at La Grave, lacking a temporary residence area for people staying over. Reginald, Casey, and Simone took their belongings from the DropShip and waited at one of the junctions in the transfer station as Mikell waited for the answer from the DropShip he was trying to reach. After two minutes of waiting, he heard a click of the connection opening and a soft groan. "What is it?"

"I'm sorry if I caught you sleeping-"

"No you're not." The voice on the other end grumbled out, and he noticed the video link was cut. "You need a ship? I'm waiting on fuel before we take off, so no passengers yet."

Mikell consulted the small note on his datapad. "You are Eva Cressena, owner of the Vagrant's Pride?"

There was a long silence and the voice on the other side sounded more alert and awake. "Are you a debt collector from Hesperus? I thought I paid the last of you off." There was a low muttering, then a sigh. "Or are you just looking to hire someone? Have to tell you, I'm only running cargo these days."

Mikell nodded. "Well we're not making any combat drops so, that's off the table for now. What we're looking for is transit to Galatea-"

"No merc jobs. I don't do combat and I'm not sticking my neck out again."

"All right, can we discuss terms? We still need a lift and you're probably the closest to leaving for us."

There was a long minute of silence, then a long and aggravated sigh. "I'll get my crew ready. I'm at position four, Docking Ring Six. And if you show up with anyone other than yourself I will lock this Leopard up so tight-" She cut herself off. "Just come alone." The channel closed, and Mikell let out a breath of his own.

"So, civilian pilot." Casey said softly from nearby. "What do you think, you going to tempt her with fortune and glory?"

"No, I'm going to tempt her with something safer than making combat drops, and making as many promises as I have to to get her on board with us." He stretched his arms behind him, and shook his head. "This could be tricky."

"You aren't going to keep the promises, are you?"

He gave her a long look, and shook his head, sighing. "Oh I intend to keep every one of them. What good would a promise be if I just broke them?" He pointed. "Reginald, stay with them until I get back and wish me luck."

"You don't need luck for this, you need wits. Can't wish you wits."

The path to the docking ring in question brought Mikell through the microgravity connectors, and past a few workers who were towing bulky things behind them up the way. He thought to himself what he'd say once he got there, and only had half of it before he found himself at the docking port. The centrifugal forces luckily were enough to keep him on the right spot as he touched the docking console as a signal he was there and waited to be admitted.

The door slid open and a dark-haired woman stared at him, frowning. She wore an ash-grey jumpsuit and open to the waist with a white shirt underneath it. She glanced down and zipped it up with a sigh. "Eyes up here."

"They were."

"Uh huh." She shook her head and motioned him in. "Who are you representing, and why should I be listening?"

"I represent myself currently, and we're on our way to Galatea to register our outfit which we would invite you to be a part of." He ducked inside, and she muttered something. "I wanted to be honest about this, before I got further. I can pay you for the trip and pay the transit fees as well, what is it you're asking?"

"I asked not to be part of combat operations." She slowly put herself down in a seat before a fold-out table and studied him for a long moment. "You are a merc outfit so it seems like you're already talking your way back out of the ship."

"I wouldn't ask you to do combat operations unless you were comfortable with it. You would, with all the intent I have to follow this, only land outside the combat area by a good distance and I absolutely would not use this Leopard for anything other than transportation, repairs in the 'Mech Bays, and perhaps a command point if I didn't have anything set up." He spread his hands.

The woman frowned, and looked at him steadily. "The instant you tell me to fire my weapons in an aggressive action, I exercise the right to kick you off and resign."

"I might need to-" He paused as she started to stand up. "Only to defend the ship, not to attack anyone. I don't see a reason to risk a DropShip for combat, as much as other outfits might want to employ the weapons on this thing. But to be honest two PPCs and three missile launchers doesn't seem like something I'd be able to really engage properly with short of punching my way out of a blockade or something. If it comes to that point, I doubt we'd even be able to make it out of the system safely."

"Keep talking. I love this talk about not being safe."

Mikell folded his hands and shook his head. "I would take every precaution to keep you out of combat directly, and I would only ask you to get into combat if there was no other option." He hesitated, then held out his hands. "I need a DropShip, and you were brought to my attention by an acquaintance as being sensible and cautious. And, yes, in need of work. I can solve the latter, I prize the former, and I promise you if you want to walk I'll just ask you let me disembark all the company property before you take off. And I won't follow you, I won't hold a grudge."

She frowned for a bit, then sighed. "One year. You have one year of a contract right now, and if I'm not satisfied I have the right to refuse to renew."

"Two years."

"One."

"Eighteen months?"

"One. Year."

Mikell sighed, and made a face. "What's your price?" She pulled a small card out of her pocket and slid it to him. He peeked at the number on it and nodded. "I can do this, but if we renew I'd like to renew to this. What I'd like to know for now is if you need any work done on the ship to get it to a point we can use it to haul BattleMechs around in the 'Mech Bays."

"I was using them for cargo space, so, yes they need a bit of work. Are you offering to pay for the work?"

"With you in my outfit I'd be paying for the work anyway, but I plan on getting it done at Galatea. Assuming they can do the work there, which I think is a fair assumption." He shook his head slowly. "But I would do all the work on the ship with my money, yes. I'd ask for sixty percent of this rate for one year, and I pay the transit fees and repair costs to bring the Pride back up to full operational status."

"Sold."

"One other condition." He lifted a finger. "Change the name?"

She snorted as she stood up. "I was planning on it anyway. New boss, new registry. I'll introduce you to my crew when we get your people on board, but just so you know there's only two. I don't have a tech on staff for repairs, because the last one jumped for a berth on the JumpShip which just left. Left me a note."

"We'll deal with it, for now let's just get ready to get fueled and underway." He hmmed. "Do you have a console linked to the system for the station? I would like to get my fellow mercs here soon so they're not conspicuous in the hall." She made a hand motion of a vague wave as she walked off. "Is that a yes?"

"Talk to Elly." She called over a shoulder. Then she raised her voice, sticking her head down to another deck below. "Elly! Our new partner wants to make a call, see about it? And tell Carl we need some more food prepped tonight."

A few minutes later a short woman with short blonde hair in a bob-cut walked up with the same ash-grey jumpsuit on. And carrying a box under her arm. "You're the partner? I'm Elly Cordova, communications. I'm just trying to find spare parts to finish the work I was doing on the video link, you mind coming along and holding a light while I get it nailed down?"

Mikell blinked, and stood up slowly. "Okay." He started following. "Who's Carl?"

"The cook. If you can call it that, he mostly just finds tin cans of food which go together and reheats them in the pot. Last night it was chili and macaroni, tonight I have a bet with Eva it'll be beans and processed meat of some kind."

"So you're Elly, she's Eva. That's going to get troublesome when we start missions." He mutters half to himself.

"Nope." She chirped and began climbing to the control deck. "Because we won't be in combat, so you'll just need to talk to me. And if I remember right, I'll go by Cordova or Control. Depending on how formal you want to do it, right?"

"Service record?"

"I had a friend in the First Regulars." She pointed at a spot and handed him a flashlight. "Keep that pointed here." She climbed up onto the counter, reaching up into an access panel. "So, yeah, I never went into the military myself but I helped work on his reflexes when we met on leave. He kept using his first name, or wouldn't use the proper protocol."

"How do you mean?" She paused and peered over her shoulder at him. "I'm making conversation, nothing more."

"Hard to know, if you're a mercenary there's a good chance you're some rich kid thinking it's all fortune and glory. We had one of those last year, and that's why Eva doesn't like taking military jobs anymore. He expected us to do covering fire as we landed, and we had to explain what we could do was really not enough." She fished a multitool out of her jacket pocket and sighed. "Stupid connectors, I left these finger-loose earlier. Anyway, my friend. When you answer a call from the field on a command channel, what would you reply with?"

Mikell paused. "Scimitar Five-Two, Command. Go ahead."

"Nice." She looked down, and started speaking as she was working. "Command, Scimitar Five-Two. Request air support urgently."

He paused, then coughed. "Over?"

"Not strictly necessary, the gear actually sends a code to the comm systems. Assuming you're doing it off your vehicle and not personal comms." She chuckled. "So you'd reply with?"

"Scimitar Five-Two, report location for air support."

"Command, Scimitar Five-Two. Grid Nine-Beta-Seven."

"Scimitar Five-Two, confirm location Grid Nine-Beta-Seven."

"Command, Scimitar Five-Two. Confirm." She looked down. "You got a bit of it, but I guess if you were just a reservist-"

"Tamar March Militia. We just had action." He shook his head. "I wasn't on the comm, just a driver. But I tried to study up. So you have no problem doing this for us once we get moving?" She shrugged a shoulder. "Is that a yes? Why does everyone have so much problems saying yes or no here?"

"Habit. Yeah, I can do it for you if you train your people properly." She shut the access panel and climbed down. "Okay, you can shut that off now."

He laughed, and shook his head as he handed her the light. "You train them, and you tell me if they're not doing it right so I can give them remedial work. In fact, it'll give us something to do on the way to Galatea."

---

• Date: November 17, 3028
• Planet: Galatea
• Location: 'Pygmalion's Masterpiece' Hiring Hall

Galatea, the Mercenary's Star, the center of the Inner Sphere when it came to mercenary work. Here is where the highest concentration of mercenary support organizations were focused, and you could find a great many hiring halls to get work. Mikell privately thought it was ludicrous how many different ones there were, but as it turned out each of them had a different affiliation. Even so, there were several different ones which overlapped, and Mikell had simply found the one which seemed easiest to get involved with and set himself down with his bag and Reginald. "Now we get to work."

Reginald chuckled and sighed. "Paperwork. Pass me one of those, I'll get to work on the equipment list."

As they worked, Mikell paused now and then to consult another datapad, before finally rolling his eyes and pulling out a recycled paper notebook. "I really hate using these."

Reginald noticed and pointed his stylus at it. "Why do you even have one of those?"

"Sometimes it's easier." He began scribbling notes down into it, scowling some. "But they're kind of hard to get your hands on."

Reginald nodded and returned to his datapad. "So, you ever going to explain how you came into all this money you're using to get us up and running? Inheritance?" Mikell laughed and shook his head, not even looking up. "Won a lottery?" A quieter chuckle, Reginald pausing and looking over. "Stole it?"

The writing stopped, Mikell putting down the pencil and leaning back. "What do you need to know for?"

"Frankly, if you stole it then I want to know who's coming for us."

A long silence, and finally a sigh. "They won't be coming for us. To do that, it would need to be admitted the accounts I emptied existed at all. Are you sure you want to know all this?"

"Just enough. If I'm going to be your top officer-"

Mikell put up his hands. "Okay. First, you know I wasn't always a tanker, and I've let on I went to the Blackjack School of Conflict. I didn't just learn how to handle tanks there, I learned how to work a BattleMech. I just never wanted to go that route, because I didn't own one. I paid for my entry and tuition with the stolen money, which was from when I left . . ." He frowned, and leaned his head back. "Some people who really had a high opinion of themselves, and a low opinion of everyone else. I didn't like their philosophy, and I didn't like their methods, so I spent a month tracking down a lot of false identities and changing access codes for getting to the funding hidden there. They didn't notice until I left, as far as I know they never noticed as they were too busy making sure I didn't take anything else with me."

"You were going to say who you worked for?"

"No. I wasn't." Mikell picked up his pencil and leaned back over the notebook. "And I would like it if you didn't ask again. This is a case where it's best if you never found out exactly how much you don't know." A few moments later he began speaking again. "And I stuck solely to stealing accounts because if I touched anything else, I wouldn't have made it to Blackjack. I wouldn't have made it out of the Federation of Skye. I quite likely would never have made it off-planet." He looked around. "But I wanted to be useful, wanted to protect people on an active level so I signed up with the Tamar March Militia as crew. I didn't expect to immediately get pushed into combat but there I was."

Reginald nodded, and resumed reading his datapad and entering data. "So. Which planet?"

"Nowhere."

"I keep forgetting that's an actual system. But that's Combine territory, so you need to lie better."

"Or you need to stop asking questions you know I won't answer. It's not important now, so let's focus on the future." Mikell glanced up. "Agreed?"

"Agreed. Besides, if I thought I couldn't trust someone who was being less than sincere about their life history I wouldn't have ever sought being part of the LCAF." He shrugged. "How much funding did you actually steal?"

"Enough to get us going, that's all we really need to keep in mind. It's not bottomless, it's a finite amount, and I can't get more once I tap it. I'm trying to be very careful about how often I do. It's why I was already keeping an ear out for potential jobs before we really got even a lance operational." He shook his head. "And I have a meeting later on with our medical officer if everything goes well."

"Everything's gone smoothly so far, why not for the future?"

Mikell sighed, shaking his head. "Don't jinx it, Reginald. Can you call up the file for what we promised Eva and Elly we'd pay them? Let's get that settled."

---

• Date: November 18, 3028
• Planet: Galatea
• Location: Lord Gray Art Gallery

It was perhaps not surprising to find there was a small art gallery in town, but it was surprising it had as many pieces in it as it did. Mikell wandered through, before stopping at a picture of some nobleman who was captured in oil paints on canvas, wearing one of the old styles of coolant suits and looking severe as he stepped down a BattleMech gantry. The small plaque next to it read: "Triumph of Carnwath. Sorvetz Reisel descends from his BattleMaster to inspect his victorious forces following the Battle of Loup-Masque, c. 2982." Mikell checked his datapad, typing out notes to look up details later when he was properly bored.

"It really was something special, you know." The voice was a soft contralto, belonging to a blonde woman who topped Mikell by at least ten centimeters, probably fifteen. She was wearing a simple light green jacket and skirt, a pair of tinted glasses on her face, looking at the painting as she spoke. "I heard about it, even years later, the idea a corporation went to war against itself."

"Excuse me?"

"The Battle of Loup-Masque on Carnwath." She flicked an eye to him, and he was struck by the clear blue of those eyes. "It was notable, for several reasons." She had cotton gloves on her hand as she lifted them and counted on her fingers, starting with the index finger. "It happened when the Third Succession War was still burning on but it had nothing to do with the Successors." This time her thumb. "There were BattleMechs in use, and not small ones. Both sides fielded some impressive equipment." Her lips quirked slightly, as she added her middle finger. "And it was a battle fought almost entirely between two sides of a company over an internal power struggle." A third finger, and she now turned her head to look at Mikell. "On a planet where they didn't even have a presence, no less."

"Fascinating. Why do you know so much about it, or think I need to know?"

"I don't think you need to know. I am making conversation with a topic I know we could have as a bridge to speak between us." She turned to face him fully, folding her hands in front of her slowly. "Mercenary work, and company politics."

"Irene Dreissen?"

"Yes. And you are Mikell Sethan, commander of Priam Company. Which, I understand, just received certification today. Congratulations are in order." She looked around. "Shall we walk?"

He nodded, motioning for her to lead the way and fell in behind her. "You contacted my acquaintance and said you were looking to enter the private sector from a pharmaceutical company. It's not Rysel is it?"

"Good instinct." She shook her head slowly. "Competitors across the border. But I know your acquaintance told you because I told him. I didn't want to hide where I was coming from, but I do have conditions."

"Everyone seems to." He said lightly, and waved a hand. "Go on."

"First, we don't take work from either the Atlantis Medical Foundation or Rysel Pharmaceutical Industries. I have too many acquaintances for me to feel comfortable about it."

"I can promise to avoid taking those as jobs when possible, but if they're the only ones interested then I can't turn them down or I won't be paying you."

"If that's a concern, then I'll work for half the rate I was given before I left the Foundation."

"You really want out that badly?"

"Commander, I would like to speak of my second condition before we talk too much more." She turned to face him abruptly, standing in front of him with her hands on her hips and lips pressed into a thin line. "You don't ever ask why I left. You will never, ever, make that request of me. I won't talk about it, I'll just walk away."

"Was it really that bad?" He asked, trying to reach for a lighthearted tone. Almost immediately she pressed the glasses back up the bridge of her nose and turned to leave. "All right, I get your message. I understand and agree to your second term. The first I can promise only to avoid willingly working for them without letting you know. Fair?"

"Fair." She hesitated before turning back around. "I pick my team, and you hire them. I train my team. You have absolutely no authority to instruct them to do so much as wrap gauze."

Mikell nodded to himself and put his fingers to his lips for a moment before replying. "I don't know anything about medicine so that's fair. But I will need full reporting on the status of personnel, including whether or not it is safe to send them into the field. That decision remains mine, not yours."

Her eyes narrowed slightly, the voice cooling a shade. "You would send injured or sick people to fight?"

"If you tell me they can, if they are willing to fight, and if their charts are honest." He noticed her stiffen at that, and held his hand palm-out towards her. "You will do what's best for your patient, and if you think I would send them in injured, or if being injured would spare them getting sent in then you might be inclined to protect them with a minor piece of fiction. Am I wrong?"

She fumed for a moment, then looked away. "I wouldn't falsify records." She said flatly, tense still. "If I said someone was fit to fight, they would be fit to fight. If they weren't ready, I'd tell you they weren't ready and why."

"Good. I can work with you." He turned away, and fished for his datapad in his pocket. "Then the rest of the details we can work out and get to a point we both agree on the finer things. Including your pay rate."

"One thousand C-Bills a month." She looked him in the eyes. "And the other clauses and stipulations we'll iron out. But I'll take that as my pay, with no hazard pay clause - because I won't go into combat. I took an oath, and I mean it."

"Well no problem there, because first I'd need to fight you to get you to the fight and that's kind of against the point." He said lightly, and held out his hand for her to shake. "Welcome aboard."

She looked at the hand, and let out a soft snort, shaking her head. "Wait until after we settle the full details. Let's not get ahead of ourselves yet."

---

• Date: November 19, 3028
• Location: 'Red Fox Run' Bar & Grill

Mikell stepped down the stairway off the street and through a beaded curtain, fighting down a sense of deja vu. The smoky atmosphere disturbed him for a moment but a sniff told him it was just incense meant to make the air easier to breathe. A pity, then, they chose sandalwood; it made his nose itch slightly as he looked from one side to the other and took stock of the room. Several small tables were trivid displays replaying the Solaris VII match highlights for the week, and around them were sitting men and women with drinks in hand and commenting to the people there about what was being shown. There were booths along the walls which had small groups of people in them, some of those tables likewise equipped but they were all full with people laughing and watching different replays. The tables with no displays tended to be taken up by one or two people in them, discussing things with furtive glances. Mikell tried to ignore them; some outfits took jobs outside Hiring Halls, after all. Or maybe they were here for the same reason Mikell was, hiring people who didn't necessarily want to be found so easily.

The thin blond woman sitting in the booth looked up from her datapad as Mikell sat down across from them. "So you got my message?" She sipped from a tall glass, something which was a tropical fruit color, but Mikell knew there was probably enough alcohol in there to be expensive. "It's good to see you again."

"You too." He said honestly. "Didn't expect to, you were deeper into learning about technology and how to fix it when someone broke it."

"Bad job. I got a better one trying to keep records for the hiring halls." A sip again, and she looked across the table. "I know why you're here."

"Jade-"

"I've heard things about the new outfit which is trying to get their paperwork approved. You need me to help move it along, that's not going to be something I can do." She sighed. "There's really just a lot of problems going on in the bureaucracy, they're tightening up some of the control-"

"I came here to ask you to join up. Not to make the paperwork go smoother." He stopped and motioned to the bartender, pointing to himself and the drink in front of Jade.

There was a long moment before Jade took a long drink from her glass and let out a sigh. "Mercenary work." Mikell nodded slowly, Jade tapping a finger on the table. "You know I'm not cut out for it. I don't like guns. I don't like fighting people, I barely like having to argue about why they can't have the console do things it can't actually do."

"I know. I'm not asking you to get in a tank or anything, I'm asking you to do the same stuff you're already doing. Only for this idiot here instead of someone other idiot you don't know."

She sighed slowly. "I don't know."

"I read your messages. I know what you left behind before this wasn't any fun, and I know this isn't where you want to be. Things are in flux here, right now, and who knows if they'll need you next year." Mikell paused as a drink was put in front of him, taking a sip of it. "Wow that's sweet. So what is it you want me to say to you? What assurances do you want out of me? Because you know where we stand, and you know what I'd tell you already. I'm asking you because I trust you, and because I trust in your talent."

There was a long silence, before Jade sighed and ran a hand over the side of her face. "All right. I'll do it." She frowned suddenly, eyebrows drawing down and together. "But you already knew I was going to say that, right?"

"No. I was hoping. But I didn't know anything." He raised his glass, tilting his head. "Thanks, Jade."

"I mean it. I'm not fighting, even if you hand me a pistol. A knife. A twig with a sharp point. I'm not fighting for you."

"Won't ever ask. You're the friend who kept me sane when I was fighting through Blackjack and trying to tell myself I was doing the right thing."

Jade nodded, fishing in her pocket for some bills and throwing them on the table before finishing their drink. "For what it's worth, I still think you are. I'm just not sure if it's the right thing for me or not. But I've got your back, like before." She walked out, and Mikell looked into the glass before quietly turning the empty glass upside down on the table.

The bartender came over, sweeping it up before it could make a ring on the table and wiping the spot with a bar rag. "Look, none of my business but-"

"We're old friends."

"I don't want to know. I do not want to know." He held out his hands palm-out. "But what I need to know is if you're covering her tab." He fished a folded piece of paper out of his pocket. "I know she left enough on the table for this glass but if she's headed off with ya I want her tab paid off."

Mikell took the slip, and signed as he looked at the number on it. "Yeah, sure. It's the least I could do for her." He reached in his pocket and peeled off a small stack of C-Bill notes to leave. "Can you get me the recipe for the drink?"