"Operations" (Part 4)

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• Date: July 30, 3029, 11:12 Local Time
• Location: [Classified], Director Templar's Office

The office was kept well-lit with a couple floor lamps, and appointed with an actual wooden desk with console functions built into the surface. It lacked the usual extravagant carvings usual to most people who paid for such desks, instead focusing on being aesthetically pleasing to the eye and functional wherever it may be. The occupant of the office was standing, facing away from both the desk and the person standing in front of that. He wore a white suit, hands clasped behind his back, and he had his head bowed thought. For the previous two minutes, as the agent who was standing at the desk was nervously fidgeting at the silence. "Director-"

The man in the suit turned his head and one eye fixed him steadily before a deep, resonant voice spoke up. "I gave you specific instructions with regards to Carnwath." He turned around, his voice still soft despite carrying across the room. "Do you recall them?"

"Yes, Director, but-"

The voice cut in again, not raising in volume, but still stopping the agent cold. "I know it has been some time, but I think you should repeat them back to me. To make sure you understood them as I said them. I could have miscommunicated them to you, after all."

"You left instructions before your meeting last year. Instructions to investigate reports of forces setting up a base of operations on Carnwath, and if there was a threat I was to remove it by any means at my disposal." The agent folded his hands in front of him, and fidgeted a bit. There were stories about Director Templar which floated around, a man who had a very different standard of conduct for those working under him. "As such-" He stopped as Director Templar held up his hand, and swallowed.

"You did not get those instructions correct. I told you to investigate reports, rumors some would call them, of armed forces on Carnwath. If they were a threat to the Lyran Commonwealth, you were to see to it they were no longer a threat, and you were told to use any reasonable means at your disposal." Director Templar walked to the desk and sat down. "You misunderstood, it seems, and that is definitely a problem I shall have to deal with. I did not want you to authorize a mercenary action."

"Sir, those mercenaries took unauthorized actions, it is entirely their fault anything happened there to disrupt matters." The agent leaned forward a bit, and then sat down at the Director's nod. "All I really wanted them to do was to get a good look at some rumored new technology being used on the planet. I had suspicions it originated with the Federated Suns, but no idea the forces belonged to the Sandoval family."

Director Templar placed his hands together before him, palms flat to each other, and nodded. "They did not follow your explicit instructions, then?"

"Sir, the contract is on the report for your pleasure."

"I do not find pleasure in reading it. Your contract was specifically vague." He tapped two controls on the desk surface and a projected screen came to life showing the text of the contract. "Normally, contracts such as these would spell out rules under which to engage. This one did not. Normally, contracts such as these would specify at least what would constitute a goal. This one did not. In fact, this contract was specifically written to be as useless as possible in determining what conduct a mercenary company should use when approaching a sensitive mission. It does not even suggest this is a sensitive mission, though I am sure you made it clear in the initial meeting."

"I needed to be sure the contract would not be able to be understood by anyone else, so it could not be traced back to us. Only the mercenaries."

"You wanted to give us deniability?" At the agent's nod, Director Templar sighed and tapped the control again, bringing up another document to look at. "I have here a report from the police and militia units stationed on Carnwath. Do you know what they say?"

"Sir?"

A steady gaze shifted to the agent. "Did you review these?" At the silence, there was another sigh. "The reports say there was an incident on July the fifteenth. Do you know what that incident was?"

"A firefight on planet between BattleMechs?"

Director Templar shook his head. "A wildfire which seemed in the process of consuming an unauthorized military installation near the old Loup-Masque battle site. There were no persons present to suggest what had happened there, but signs suggested there were indeed BattleMechs and combat-rated vehicles in the area. Traffic control reported there were at least two DropShips of undetermined origin which had been in the area, as their transponders had been turned off and they departed in two shifts. One departed with no warning around two in the morning, one departed six hours later, and two hours prior to the alarms about a wildfire in the area." He closed the document, and resumed staring at the agent. "It would seem the Sandoval forces were quite intent on nobody knowing they were there, and once your hired mercenaries arrived? It was clear they had to leave, and leave no trace they were there. Do you know why?"

"I am sure you will tell me, Director."

His hand slammed down onto the desk surface with a loud crack, and for the first time he raised his voice. "I cannot, because they are now gone and any attempt to find them is fruitless since they had allies smuggle them onto Carnwath in the first place! I do not even know why they were there, which I might have if you had acted with a measured and reasonable reaction. You did not need to assign mercenaries, and you did not need to involve weapons of war on the magnitude you did." The voice slowly descended into a harsh whispering murmur. "You used a sword when you should have used a scalpel. I can think of four agents in this division you could have called on to take care of this, without any bloodshed or risk of spectacle. You chose to find mercenaries who could be treated as a disposable resource, and from reading your report? My guess is you intended to dispose of them and it backfired. Am I wrong?"

"You may be mistaken, Director."

Director Templar sighed, standing up and walking away again. He paced a few times, seeming to be gathering his thoughts. "As I was not sufficiently clear with my directions to you, it seems I bear the onus of what you did in the name of the corps, agent." He walked back to the desk and opened a document, beginning to use a stylus to write on the hologram. "As such, I will assume responsibility for what you set in motion, and it will be my duty to fix it."

The agent let out a breath, relief clear on his face. "Thank you, sir. That is very reasonable, Director."

"I am not finished." He looked over briefly. "Since, likewise, your instructions were unclear to these mercenaries and they undertook a mission under your authorization from a misunderstanding of your instructions? The responsibility for what they did is yours." He stopped writing on the holographic document and focused his gaze on the agent. "As such? I will submit a report to Duke Sandoval, a very gracious man serving our ally the First Prince. I am certain whatever punishment for your crime against his people will be a rational and proportional response." As the agent started to stand, he motioned and spun the document image around, offering the stylus. "Now sign there."

"Sir-"

"If you do not sign, then I will take it as offering your resignation and accept." The agent stared into the Director's eyes, trying not to retort at all. Then he took the stylus and signed slowly. "Do not worry, agent. You have made a mistake and you will learn from it. As I have made a mistake, and learned from it."

"So the mercenaries, they get away with it?"

Director Templar stood up, and leaned forward to bring his face close to that of the agent. "That matter is none of your concern now. It is my concern, since I accepted responsibility for your actions. I will deal with them, and you will deal with your own choices in this matter." He slowly straightened up and then sat down. "We all have to accept some responsibility for our parts to play, agent. I trust you will understand when you have my position. Good day."

After the door shut being the agent, Janus Templar pulled up the report and folded his hands before him again. "Priam Company." He murmured to himself. "What shall I do with you?"

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• Date: July 31, 3029
• Planet: Ryde
• Location: Leopard-Class DropShip "Shadowfox", Briefing Room

All seven 'MechWarriors sat around the table, looking at each other for a moment as Mikell entered the briefing room. "New contract." Mikell clapped his hands together, and Olivia rolled her eyes briefly. "While we're waiting on our new Wolfhound to arrive, we had a small bid which should help us keep busy. Someone wants to do mineral surveys on Dalkeith." He stopped to sit down and bring up the data he had. "So they want an escort, strangely enough, and we're it. Since it's rather close, I figured we could do this and be back in two weeks."

"Oh no." Vandal muttered. "Dalkeith." As everyone glanced at him he sighed. "Look, it's not a bad place. If you like radioactive traces in the air, and needing to wear filter masks outside. As a planet, it's really inhospitable, but people gotta live there to run the mines and processing plants. Lots of heavy metals and radioactive material which the Commonwealth is able to use."

"So we're doing a survey for a world people already know is rich in metals?" Otto asked, raising his hand.

"It's a living." Olivia said idly. "Can I sit this one out though? Don't feel like putting on a mask or having to risk radioactivity."

Mikell looked at her. "Someone else is going to drive your Warhammer, then."

"Reginald can do that." She motioned to the man on her right, who just smirked at her. "Reggie?" As he started chuckling, she rolled her eyes. "Oh, come on!"

"I did tell you not to call me that." He waggled a finger at her, then looked around. "I'll drop since we need it."

"You aren't letting Otto in my ride are you?"

"What's wrong with that?!" Otto scowled at her.

"No, I am not letting Otto in there. I should let Kelly in it, but I want her here for when the Wolfhound arrives." Kelly beamed around the table, and Mikell continued. "I will also be leaving the Warhammer. Turns out the deal on that Locust followed me here, and I got a message about the price being dropped. So we have a Locust."

"The 1S is kind of crap though." Otto muttered to himself. "Lower armor and it uses missiles instead of Machine Guns." He looked around the table. "It also isn't as armored. I mean, really, it needed less armor?"

"1S? This is a 1V standard model." Mikell glanced at the table, and pulled it up. "Good deal. Normally one and a half, I got it for half a million." He lifted a finger. "Louis is going over it, though. Says it may need new ammunition feeds for the guns but otherwise it was checking out."

"I thought we weren't allowed to buy it?" Olivia asked, leaning forward. "You said-"

"And the deal was so good I changed my mind. But it's okay, Otto is the one in the seat." Everyone groaned, as Otto hung his head. "Tough luck Otto, but I heard you complained about not seeing action last time." Otto lifted his head and glared at Simone, who looked innocently at the ceiling. "So let's recap." He tapped controls on the table and the images of the four BattleMechs he planned to be taking showed up. "Aubrey, you're in the BattleMaster. Reginald has the Orion, Casey has the Valkyrie, and Otto has the Locust."

"Why me? Sir." Aubrey looked down as Mikell glanced his way.

"Do you want me to discuss it in private? Or here?" He asked lightly. Aubrey looked up with a puzzled look, and Mikell removed a slip of paper from his pocket. "On this piece of paper, ladies and gentlemen, is a list of people investigated who were coming to Ryde with ulterior motives. It turns out five people in our lovely outfit work for various intelligence agencies." He glanced over the list. "One was for the Draconis ISF, and we bounced them as soon as we could confirm it while leaving a note with the Lyran Intelligence about her alias with us. Another was Department of Military Intelligence for the Federated Suns, and we kindly asked her to report home and don't return."

Olivia raised her hand. "Kindly asked, sir? Was gunpoint involved? Cause it should have been."

"Olivia, we don't want to be starting problems with them for no reason. I catch spies in my outfit and I either bounce them or give them a chance to make good." He looked down. "Which was what happened to two others who were LIC, one of whom was Loki." Everyone shifted at the table; while spies were a thing and the Lyran Intelligence Corps wasn't exactly working with clean hands, Loki agents were something else. They tended to be the very dirty hands, questionable methods more often than not, and they didn't hesitate if it came to collateral damage. Tended to be, some would say, but even so they were unpredictable as much as their namesake was.

"Sir?" Aubrey spoke up. "A Loki agent?"

"Oh, yes, and believe me. We had a tough time figuring that out. Once his story didn't check out, and we tried to talk to him about it? He had to have re-entry the hard way from orbit." Mikell sighed, and shook his head as Simone winced. "So, number five jumped ship when we got back. I didn't track down who they were working for, but they were in one of the technician teams." He stood up. "So, if you want to know why you, Aubrey? I want time to chase leads here. I'm putting Reginald in operational command for this contract. If there are no more questions, go ahead and see to your assigned 'Mechs. If you weren't on the list you can either go along and be confined to the ship for health reasons. Or we'll have a rented hangar space here and some local arrangements."

As everyone filtered out, Mikell grabbed Aubrey's arm and shook his head. Once they were alone, he locked the door behind him. "So, I said there were five names on the list. I lied." He threw the list onto the table, and pointed. "Six names. I didn't want to make a deal in front of everyone, because I figured Olivia might just shoot you."

"Sorry. Sir."

"So, I want to know what your plan is. Were you here just to make sure we didn't skip out on the contract? Report if we actually found anything and were covering it up?" Mikell pointed. "Have a seat, Aubrey. That's your name, right?"

"I'm not in deep cover. That is my name." He sat down, sighing out. "I'm just assigned to your outfit to keep an eye on them, because there was a meeting last year where someone noted there were a lot of mercenary outfits taking charters in Lyran space. Someone brighter than me decided it would be a good idea to keep an eye on them from inside, and then someone higher up the food chain assigned me here."

"I see. So what have you told them?"

"Not that much. You can be trusted, you don't cause excess collateral damages, and you aren't willing to use excessive force for doing the job. Oh, and you probably twigged to me already and hadn't shot me."

"Olivia would."

Aubrey lifted his hands. "I'd totally understand that."

"I don't like killing people who aren't a danger to me, or my people." Mikell looked away, then back down. "And you're not a danger, you're just an observer. I'm okay with that." He lifted a finger. "But the instant I feel this changes, and I do need to worry about you?"

"Olivia will find out."

"Oh hell no." Mikell laughed, and stood up straight. "I'll tell Kelly to take care of it." Looking at the expression on Aubrey's face, he stretched his arms a bit, and wriggled his hands. "See, Olivia doesn't like killing. She doesn't mind it, because it's part of her job. Kelly on the other hand, is different. It's not fair to use her like that, but . . ." He sighed and caught Aubrey's eyes. "But if it spares someone else feeling guilt over doing it, I'll make use of it." He said quietly. "So if you have to do something which you know I won't like and you're under orders? I won't ask you to disobey orders. I just want you on the next ship out of there after you do it." He turned and walked to the door, unlocking it. "I'm giving you a lot of trust, Aubrey. You strike me as a good person, and that's why I am giving you this chance."

"Thank you, sir."

"Don't thank me. I just don't have a stomach for murder, yet. Given this path I'll probably work up to it sooner or later, though."

---

• Date: August 9, 3029
• Planet: Ryde
• Location: Ryde Spaceport, Landing Field Four

"So. Run this by me again." Mikell slouched in the chair and bowed his head as the public communication console showed a robed figure in white watching him. "I was expecting a message from a client and you're telling me it hasn't yet arrived? I was assured it would arrive today, at the latest, when I inquired four days ago."

The Adept shook his head. "No, and we are all deeply sorry for your inconvenience. Truly, however, there is not much we can do about it at this time. Since your fees were delivered late-"

"So shall my message be?"

There was a brief look of shock, and then an offended sniff was heard from the Adept. "We would never presume to let that get in the way of our blessed duties! It is merely a case of other people who have paid for priority processing, who have also not received all their messages. There has been a disruption of service due to some solar currents which were unexpected-" At the mutter from Mikell, the Adept simply waved his hand. "Do not worry. We will contact you, Commander Sethan, when the message arrives. Please trust in our ability to handle it."

The connection closed, and Mikell grumbled to himself as he left the cubicle. Olivia was standing there, checking her own datapad. "I am guessing that noise means we still didn't hear anything?" At his glower, she shrugged. "Back to the hotel rooms, then, until tomorrow?"

"I hate ComStar."

"They are the only ones who handle interstellar messages with any speed, though." She pointed out. "Unless you want to wait for courier ships, like the embassies." She looked around. "What do you say you relax and find something to do not related to mercenary work?"

He stuck his hands in his jacket pockets as he walked, trying to calm down as he focused on the walk and not the thought of the 'Shadowfox' and most of the BattleMechs in his outfit many light-years away on a different planet. Well, he corrected himself, not on the planet yet. Six days to the jump point in this system, then seven days to Dalkeith V's orbit, which meant at least twenty-six days until they heard back. Louis was currently training another crew, claiming this one could at least tell the difference between a leg actuator and an arm actuator. Vandal and Simone were quietly entertaining themselves trying to vet people for possible recruiting, and finding absolutely nobody who actually knew five names of BattleMech models, let alone how to pilot one of them. Kelly, on the other hand, was the least worrisome person staying on Ryde. She was spending her time quietly in her room, or helping pack away supplies at the rented hangar space. Whatever Irene had her on, it was working.

The comm in Mikell's ear beeped twice. "Commander, it's Janice. I've got a few more hopefuls to bring over, if you have the time to interview them."

"Acknowledged, make it early afternoon."

Olivia glanced over at him. "Interviews again?"

"Yeah, turns out there's a few people on the planet who Janice thinks we can use. Aside from techs who are able to work tools."

"What's going on with that? I still don't think I met her officially. Someone you're trying to keep hidden?"

"No."

"She's not your ex is she?"

"No." Mikell glanced back at her, frowning.

"Casey's ex?"

"Not that I know of." He hesitated. "Do you think-"

"It's not my concern, but you know how Elly handles comms for the unit right? And that means she can actually hear what's going on when you forget to turn them off?" She grinned over at him. "And I know how to get to the recordings, sometimes before she dumps the files?"

"Olivia, are you planning on blackmailing anyone in the unit?"

"No. Embarrassing them, perhaps."

"You are hereby warned you do not want to do that to Casey, because there is a good chance you will not be able to run fast enough." He glanced to his wrist. "Almost time for lunch, I'll pick up an order and meet you back at the hotel. Any requests?"

"Please no Capellan food. It doesn't agree with my digestion. And not in the funny fashion, in the 'please kill me now' fashion." She split off, and he kept walking, noticing the ground tremble slightly under his feet. That was one of the few things he'd learned about Ryde, the tectonic problems on the planet. Four tremors in a week, on average, anywhere from merely a shudder to the sort which had residents moving hurriedly for the stabilized shelters. Everything here was built for earthquakes as a common occurrence and thus buildings rarely had more than one story to them when out in the city. Here on the starport grounds, it was better and the stabilizers under the foundations kept it mostly safe.

The second thing he found out was what effects this had on the groundwater on the planet, namely that it tended to pick up all sorts of heavy metal traces and sulfurous scents. Such it was there was a necessity for very heavily-filtered water which was provided via the Water Pure Industries outlets in the city. For a modest fee, one could register for an account for daily water usage, but mercenaries got pushed into another bracket in the fees. This, of course, was a minor nuisance to the operating budget but he'd get over it.

Then there was the last thing. He stopped his walk from the starport and looked to the governmental building in the distance. Most of the local residents knew the earthquakes meant building skyscrapers was a difficult endeavor; the Lyran Commonwealth government seemed to take it instead as a challenge, having designed a tower forty meters tall and reinforced in ways which screamed 'over-designed'. The fact it hadn't yet fallen over and had been built two centuries ago, however, suggested the over-designed look might actually be necessary. In the building were offices for a lot of agencies, and one of those was the Lyran Intelligence Corps. Another was the Lyran Commonwealth Armed Forces oversight group for this region, Mikell knowing they'd moved it here during the Third Succession War in attempts to dissuade the Combine from making attacks on the Water Pure facilities here. It hadn't worked, as those facilities had been rebuilt twice during the war. Most of the local material made a big deal about there not being an attempt for a third time, but Mikell knew the Combine had been in the process of abandoning that push anyway.

The LCAF behaved differently, this much closer to Terra and the border with the Combine. Here there was a consistent presence of the Fourth Skye Rangers, having a couple bases out among the processing facilities and one at the Water Pure production facility. The Hauptmann-Kommandant in charge was said to be very sharp, and the skill very good. Mikell considered briefly the benefit of studying them here, but he shook his head after a moment. If he drew attention to himself or his outfit, someone was going to try to do something about them. Mikell kept walking, turning his mind back to more recent and imminent issues. Such as what to get for lunch. He'd stop at the next place he saw, he decided. After all, he wasn't going to waste more time debating on food.