"When It Rains", Part 3
- Date: September 3, 3031
- Planet: White Reach, Jedora Continent
- Location: [Redacted]
Through this organized chaos, the shepherd of the flock walked. She wove through the bustle of the facility in a white robe, a small stack of datapads under an arm and trailed by two people. One of them wore a sleeveless jacket, looming two meters tall and having a fairly muscular build. On each hip was a long knife, and her eyes scanned almost every direction rapidly as technicians were in motion. The other figure was a hair taller, and dressed in a tan one-piece suit with two patches on it. She walked with an imperious air, seeming to pay no mind to anyone else in the facility beyond the woman in the lead. Any technician who caught her attention wound up hurrying in the other direction.
"Was this truly necessary?" Her voice was deep, resonant, and the white-robed figure made a dismissive gesture in reply. "So why bring it back online?"
A raspy voice replied, slow and almost tortured. "It never hurts to have a Plan B."
"I don't understand."
The head turned, one eye fixing the lady in the tan suit. "This is to be expected, Your Grace." The conversation stopped until they entered an office, and the robed figure moved to a console to type commands into it. "I am not certain this facility will remain hidden for too much longer. This, coupled with the abysmal ineptitude of Captain Tybalt means we need to move up the timeline."
"I don't expect the hounds are ready."
"My Lady, this is a problem entirely within your purview." She hesitated and sighed. "We have at most six months. The war changed plans, and the incident on Port Moseby was the last straw. We have to relocate before Sorvetz finds us." She frowned, looking at messages scrolling by. "I need to get to the HPG Relay Station, soon. With them shut down, they probably don't have updated instructions."
The bodyguard glanced around the room before speaking. "Are we sure it's wise to trust them?"
The older woman laughed, setting off a short coughing spasm before she spoke up. "I don't trust anyone. That is why this project has been going for longer than you've been alive, Shera."
Silence fell, as the woman in the jumpsuit walked to a chair and slowly sat down, looking thoughtful. "We can get equipment from New Stevens readily enough. We lack, however, qualified and properly indoctrinated users. You have a plan for providing these?"
The robed woman paused, and a flicker of annoyance crossed her face before she looked over and drawled one word in a slow hiss. "Patience."
Shera scowled, an expression other than neutral disinterest at last. "Do not speak to Lady Xemira that way."
There was a longer pause as the woman turned from the console to regard Xemira with a thoughtful expression. "My apologies, I didn't mean to be rude. But we won't stop the signal search, and with the HPG in shutdown I have limited immediate options." She turned back to the console, typing. "All my information is four months out of date, and I won't act on a plan until I know for certain the pieces are in their proper places."
"And am I in my proper place?" Xemira drawled slowly, fingers toying with a lock of hair near her neck.
"Not remotely. This is why I'm working so hard to achieve it, Your Grace." She plucked a storage unit from the console. "This is why I counsel patience. Stay hidden for now, and I will return soon enough with support."
Xemira slowly stood back up, and her gaze focused on the robed woman with a sudden steel behind it. "For the Revival." She bowed softly, hand over her heart. The bow and words were echoed by Shera, before Xemira continued. "Get the support, and I'll lead the way."
"Your Grace." The woman in white bowed back, and left, giving Shera a brief glance before continuing on back into the facility. She pulled a technician aside on the way, and murmured softly to him. "I need two ampoules of the product, a sample to test its capability. And for Blake's sake, use Class Four containment this time."
"Of course, ma'am."
As she waited for them, she folded her arms and looked down at the production floor below. It was infuriating to think it had taken them ten years to get back to the position where this was even possible, and Sorvetz had ferreted out their existence by pure luck. Rysel would have to be dealt with, later, once more of the plan had slid into place. There were too many moving pieces right now to consider, it was up to the mercenaries to try to narrow down the possibilities one way or the other.
- Date: September 19, 3031
- Location: Calderon Firebase, Command Center
"Finally." C muttered. "We've run tests, and the planetwide communications network is recovering. Patching in is slow, since we only have clearance for a few-"
"All good then. This means we can start getting supplies from off-planet." Adamant nodded slowly. "I'm planning a list out, can you think of anything we need for support?"
C stared at him for a moment, then sat down in a chair to think. "Well, medical supplies are running low. Repair parts are almost out, and we're running low on missiles. But sure, let's talk about support." He sighed as Adamant stared back. "Something with long-range teeth, cheap and functional. I'd say missile carriers, best value for the funds. As the trade goes, they lack any real armor. For protecting them, I'd say a good heavy tank could do the job."
"I have some ideas there. I was also thinking of complimenting the Awesome with a Schrek."
A long pause as C digested the statement, eyebrows going up. A Schrek was a heavy tank which was equipped with three PPCs in the turret and enough armor to protect itself unlike the missile carriers mentioned before. "Do you think we can find one?" They were also notoriously rare, and hard to acquire if you weren't the Successor State militaries. "It would be great if we could get one."
Adamant nodded and sat down, looking around, voice quieter. "We've had a couple weeks to clean up and analyze anything left behind. Anything interesting?" He noticed C glancing around at the techs working, and made a brief finger motion. The two got up and walked to the nearby hall, C shutting the door behind him. "I suppose that's a yes."
C sighed, breathing into his hands for a moment before slowly speaking. "Pryde's Crucible was under contract to a contact within the Armed Forces of the Federated Suns. Most of the data which was left behind is redacted, but apparently the text of the contract reads they were to be here following reports of mercenaries starting some sort of firefight on Port Moseby which harmed civilians."
"That sort of thing never reflects well on the rest of us."
A sharp glance over Adamant. "We've also-"
An annoyed grunt cut that off as Adamant folded his arms. "I know. Sometimes it can't be helped. Go on."
"Commander Pryde was more interested in the few instances of coded orders and replies we managed to recover from deleted drives. There was concern there was a Star League cache on the planet which hadn't been emptied out." C held his hands up, palms-out. "I don't think there is one, I mean that would be insane for it to be within a half-dozen jumps of Terra. It would have been found, stripped, and used by now. Even so, the rumor can't be ignored by either side here. Commonwealth or Combine."
Adamant folded his arms, and drew in a deep breath before letting it out. "Or mercenary commands who could profit from it." He paused. "The larger ones wouldn't bother, they wouldn't need it and the effort to find it might be wasted. The smaller ones couldn't have the means to exploit it. It's really only useful to a certain range of commands, or the Successor States."
"If it exists."
"If it exists." He echoed, and turned around, pacing down the hall a few strides before coming back. "Aliandros knows something, or we wouldn't be here. The way he talked, there's something here even if it's not Star League. Sandoval is supposed to acquire something here. He knows too, then."
"Or it's something Aliandros Starscapes misplaced here which they don't want being fair game?" C offered up, eyes unfocused as he thought.
"Starscapes doesn't move anything that valuable, though."
"They don't move military hardware." C corrected, suddenly snapping into focus. "What about information? What about equipment which could be useful." He pointed at Adamant. "What if it's not something, but someone?" The pair stared at each other, then looked away. C spoke up first, an annoyed tone creeping into his voice. "Too much we don't know. Too much we're being kept in the dark about."
"Yeah. We'll wait for an update. They'll have to give us an update soon, right? November is almost here and they said six to eight months."
"What if being kept in the dark leads to us being screwed over?"
Adamant let out a snarl, lip curling. "Well, we're in better shape than we were in April, so I'll consider it a win." He raised a fist and pointed one finger slowly. "I won't let Cylene hang over me for any more time, damn it. We were screwed over, but I plan on avoiding it the next time. I'll be clear, C." He pointed vaguely outside the building. "If Aliandros and Sandoval look like they're going to screw us over, I am not going to lay down and take it." He smiled, a humorless smile, before turning to walk off, speaking over a shoulder. "I'll take them down instead."
- Date: September 21, 3031
- Location: Antan Exports, Storage Area 4
Except for the two new groups.
On the elevator, she allowed her annoyance to show finally. They had disrupted much of the situation, even with the network coming back on line slowly in the last few days. In a few more weeks, she expected ComStar to announce the station would reopen; quite possibly only for priority and emergency contacts at first, then allowing more normal use of their services. She knew the change in situation had to involve one of these two new mercenary commands, and she still had no information on them. Yet.
Leaving the elevator into the above-ground storage, she saw someone waiting for her. "Captain." She looked them over, noticing it was one of her plainclothes aides, holding his gaze for a moment. "Sorry. Director."
"Better. We need to be more careful now, there's a greater chance people can get information on us." She started walking. "What do you have to report?"
"Commander Pryde is dead." Her stride faltered and he almost walked into her. "We have confirmation Calderon Firebase was attacked and seized by a mercenary outfit known as the Harbingers. One of our people just returned this morning after posing as one of the local tech crew-"
"Dead." She sighed. "That investment didn't pay off. A pity." Inwardly she seethed, even as she forced her expression to remain neutral. That idiot had probably taken too many risks, or these Harbingers were a greater threat than anticipated. Most probably a mixture of both, as she made a mental note to look into the mercenary command at some point after ComStar reopened their services. "Go on."
"There's not much else to tell. His second-in-command reported to the Mercenary Review Board, cashed out for a good faith payment, and they've departed the planet." His expression twitched. "Also, the White Reach spaceport is being held by another outfit calling themselves Priam Company."
The neutral expression finally cracked, and she glared at the aide. "Do we have any actual good news?" She snapped out, the question a whip which made him flinch.
He held out his hand. "I dispatched a team to secure one of the abandoned aerospace sites in the north. If we have any luck remaining, nobody else has beat us to it. We can use that to receive supplies once we can clear its use with Orbital Control."
"How hard will that be?"
"I'd say a six-figure bribe to the right people will cover it."
Kreiss paused, and quickly ran her expense reports in her head. They would not like what she was about to say, back home, but they weren't in the middle of this mess. "Make it eight. We don't need it failing on us." She hesitated, and consulted the datapad in her hand with a small smirk. "Storage Three should have something we acquired from Claybrooke last year, try to talk to Senator Green about a generous donation."
"What about the other commands?"
Elisanne "If they are willing to pay what prices we set, then I intend to take their money and give them what they wish. In the time I do, I will learn all I can of them, and that is more valuable to our goals here." She nodded. "Carry on." He saluted, and walked off; Elisanne watched him leave and then departed to her own office. There was still work to do.
- Date: September 24, 3031
- Location: Calderon Firebase, Commander's Office
Deadeye rolled his eyes, and twirled a finger idly. "You probably just aren't used to it. Driving the Atlas too much, everything feels small."
"No, that's not it. And quiet you." He pointed at Sassy before looking over, standing and sitting back down.
"I did not make any crack about you gaining weight, sir."
"You just did."
She looked at Deadeye, who shrugged. "I didn't hear anything, I just show up for the free lunch." He looked back to the datapad, and tapped it on the desk. "It appears we're in business again. Most of the damage from the battle is repaired. Both concerning the 'Mechs and what the Crucible left behind for us to clean up."
Adamant shook his head. "The Atlas is still down for another month until we can get replacement parts for the damage done to the rear."
"But the Awesome is back running fine, which is all that really matters for us right?"
Sassy spoke up, pitching her tone in an exasperated way, smirking to her right at the other 'MechWarrior. "It sometimes amazes me how easily you forget you aren't the center of the outfit." As he took on a mock-wounded expression, she turned her attention to the commander. "Have we received any update from our employer?"
A sigh, as Adamant pulled up the console commands, searching for the file. "Oh, there was something waiting for us in the ComStar queue." He tapped on the file, bringing up floating text which he then rotated to show them. "Text, no audio, which meant it was well able to sneak into an earlier download batch." Each of the two read through it in their own pace, but then got a confused look and glanced through it at the commander. "Exactly."
Sassy shook her head. "We're intended to keep trying to cut down on the competition until Sandoval gets here to take charge? Sir, I really have a bad feeling about those orders."
"Agreed." Deadeye murmured. "Especially the rest of the reminders to clauses in the contract about partial payment and not to involve anyone other than Sandoval in the official side of things."
"I think it's because they don't want to pull the Lyrans into it. And I honestly wouldn't want to either, those people are crazy." Adamant folded his arms and let out a breath. "But they're going to be coming, they're going to be sending a unit to take care of this mess and sweep it up. The question is, how big and how skilled a unit? I doubt we'll get Lyran Guards, but we'll see." He looked at the pair, and cleared his throat. "I have decided to look for combat vehicles on the second-hand market. I've got a small list, anything you would want us to have?"
Deadeye frowned. "Well, sky's the limit?" Adamant made a vague wave as if to dismiss the idea of a limit. "I'd say a Von Luckner. That's a mean heavy tank, but finding one here may be less difficult. The Commonwealth was making it, right?"
"That's a question for someone who studied that in school. I was busy learning to not die in a 'Mech cockpit."
Sassy leaned back in her chair, venting out a sigh slowly. "We'll figure it out. Or maybe we won't. C is on this task, right, so give it to him. We can worry about the rest of it. Let's get back to basics, and start planning out the routine patrol and training exercises to keep sharp. At least until things heat up again, because we all know they're going to."
Silence fell on the room, and Deadeye stood up. "Always a blast, these meetings. I'll go make sure everything's all green with the Awesome. See you later, yeah?" Walking out, giving Sassy a clap on the shoulder along the way.
"Yeah." She curled her lip at the contact, but shook her head. "Right, and I'm going to go scrawl anti-Capellan graffiti over the side of the Cataphract's thigh. I can't wait to get into something better."
"You paid for it in blood."
"And same when it comes to the next one." She smirked and stood up. "You're the only one here who paid with someone else's blood-" She bit her lip, and cast her eyes down. "I didn't mean anything by it."
"Yeah, yeah, it's not the first, and it's not the last time I'll hear it." He leaned back in the chair. "And you spilled someone else's blood too for yours. We all have dirty hands here, Nicole."
Her eyes looked upwards, and she muttered half to herself now. "Blood washes blood." Then louder, firmer, directing it at the commander. "We'll never be clean, but we will be honest about ourselves. We're mercs, this is how we do things." She mimed raising a cup, and smiled. "When we can get some beer, we'll toast to being the ones still standing instead of on the ground. For now?" Turning around and walking to the door, she made a tossing motion away from her. "I'm going to get busy with some useless crap. You know how to reach me if you need me."
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