"White Reach: Landfall" (Part 1)
- Date: June 13, 3031
- Planet: White Reach, Pelea Continent
- Location: Planetary Senate Building, High Senate Chamber
She wanted more than anything else to give them reason to think otherwise, to look on her with proper deference. Like the security guards outside the senate chambers, watching her with thinly veiled contempt. These people were not, and could never be, her equals. One of them listened to his earpiece, and nodded at her. "Lady Wallings, the gallery will open now. Session begins in two minutes. The rules are-"
They never addressed her as 'Baroness', but that was to be expected when generations had been raised without respect for proper noble titles. It was outworlders who would use the proper terms, not knowing how much it twisted the knife. "No electronic devices, no interjections from the gallery, no unauthorized guests, and no messages to those on the floor." She recited swiftly, before standing and brushing her hands at the pleats of her dress. "I am well aware."
Inside, she was one of only a dozen come to witness bureaucracy at work; she smirked to herself at the realization it probably meant the populace had the same contempt for the High Senate as she did. Most there had notebooks open, writing in them in quick batches of strokes, probably journalists who had to be here rather than people honestly interested. Given what recent events had started, this place should be packed with people wanting to watch and see what was being decided about the mercenaries and pirates landing on the planet. Pirates, so close to the core worlds, was an unthinkable thing! But they were here, and two weeks ago raided Castellan Corporation's Lucent processing facility and made off with twenty tons of reclaimed metal.
The concerned citizens should be here, but instead they were at the Common Senate two blocks away, where there was a lot fewer rules and the gallery attendants were allowed to speak. Madness, madness to allow them to intervene in the operation of the world's government. Below the nine High Senators were taking their desks, checking their notes. Elizabeth knew of them, and knew where this was going to go even before the meeting would begin.
In ten minutes she was proven correct, as she watched the esteemed Senator McMillar demanding to know why "the so-called Federated Commonwealth" was doing nothing to prevent this in the wake of the Fourth Succession War. Since, of course, nobody was present to offer a reason for this and none was being offered, he wanted to send a strongly-worded message to the Duke of Skye about this. Except, now entered Senator Pavil trying to redirect this by noting ComStar had closed off the Hyperpulse Generator from any access and was no longer accepting messages to be transmitted; he wanted to censure ComStar officially, noting they were not given the land under a lease-exchange to deny services for official business. Everyone immediately tried to resist this, and now the Facilitator was trying to restore order while Senator Green tried to bring up the militia hadn't yet been mobilized to even protect the capital.
After another ten minutes of watching this, including Senator Trelane challenging Senator Winters to a duel for his impertinence and refusing to yield the floor until it was answered, Elizabeth stood up and excused herself. "Ah, democracy." She muttered to herself as she stood and walked to the door. "Come along, Jerome." The shouting from the chamber was getting louder before the door shut, noise seals cutting off the volume. She began walking, and Jerome was only a few steps behind. If there was ever any indication the republic in power on White Reach was past its expiration date, it was this meeting. The Militia were incapable of defending the planet from invaders, Senate was incapable of handling this state of emergency, and so far it seemed like the Lyran Commonwealth wouldn't be responding to the situation here. There was nobody who could do anything about it.
Elizabeth smiled on the way down the steps outside the building and looked up at the sky. Jerome lifted the umbrella he had with him. Of course, there was something, but it would take having power to remove this rotting government and replace it with something stronger. And since this planet was her birthright more than anyone else on the world, it fell to her to be sure it would happen.
"Jerome, I want you to start investigating who these mercenaries are. I want to know who leads them, where they come from, and what they have. I want to know what their operating costs are, and whether they can weather an extended campaign on White Reach."
"Ma'am." He paused, but it was his place to offer advice in the face of a decision which was not suitably considered. "With ComStar having sealed off access to the station-"
"ComStar is not the only source of information on the planet. I am not surprised those fools inside didn't think outside the box for getting around that silly closure." She waved a hand and then held up a finger. "Someone on this planet knows the information we want, and furthermore can be bargained with. I want you to find these people, and get the information."
"By your request, ma'am." He nodded, and took out his datapad to begin making notes before starting to drive back to the hotel she was staying in.
Lady Elizabeth Wallings closed her eyes, and smiled to herself. If not this year, then in the next one she would have everything in place to truly ascend to the position her ancestors had been given long ago by the Archon. She would finally rule as was her destiny.
- Date: July 17, 3031
- Planet: Ganshoren, Nadir Jump Point
- Location: Black-Eagle Class DropShip 'Aquila', Briefing Room
He pulled up the images and files prepared over the last two months by the officers. A sphere showed on the image. "White Reach is a bit of an anomaly, in that it's fairly like Terra in most regards. Climate is a little cooler, overall, but it has a fairly strong presence of vegetation and is roughly 64% water."
Otto coughed. "Roughly 64%? Why not say 65%?"
"Because that's not what's in the guidebook." Olivia said as she sipped at her coffee. "The number was something like 64.1632%." Otto looked at her. "What?"
"How do you even remember it to four places?"
"Because it's odd."
"Actually, it's even." Vandal spoke up from the other side of the table. Olivia glared at him. "Well it is, it ends in an even number so-"
"So back to the briefing." Mikell cut in. "There's also a fairly active business handling metal recycling and reclamation from scraps purchased from other systems. There's mineral wealth on the planet, but from surveys it's not enough to support heavy industrialization to pull it out of the ground. So instead a large portion of one continent is farmland, almost enough to feed the population - which is, conveniently enough, centered in two cities." Small lights shone on the globe. "Vernier City and White Reach. Yes, that's the name of the city too." He pointed. "There's a spaceport there, a few other smaller ones on the planet but this one will be able to handle our DropShips. So right now, we're planning on landing in the city after we get clearance."
"What if we don't get clearance to land there?" Simone spoke up. "Do we land anyway?"
"Yes, just not in the city. We'll have to take one of the other two designated locations, but that'll put us outside of the major areas and unlikely to be able to do much." He folded his hands and used the controls to move the globe out of focus. "What we have so far are reports there are already other mercenaries on the planet for, ah, currently it'd be six months. They arrived in early January and began putting down a semi-permanent base on one of the three major continents. I'm not sure where, exactly, but they apparently have comparable size to us so I'm not keen on getting involved in a battle."
"Do we know who they are?"
"Since April Fifteenth, the HPG Station has been on lockdown and hasn't been transmitting anything other than internal ComStar reports to let it be known the station is still in the hands of ComStar. Most of this data is probably outdated, except for what the Lyran Intelligence Corps can verify independently. There are other mercenaries, and they were working on chasing down the files on them when we got the data packet. We haven't gotten an update yet, and with the HPG down for White Reach we won't be getting one. What they do know is there are currently three other groups on the planet, one of those being opportunistic 'pirates'. Their word, not mine."
"Pirates again." Vandal groaned. "Really?"
"Better equipped than the Rimward groups, because these are not exactly pirates so much as opportunistic vultures." Aubrey put in, and pulled up a file himself to read. "Apollon Suns, The Midnight Riders, Hounds of Dawn, and one called 'Green Eyed Wonders'."
"I- what?" Casey blinked twice. "Who, what? Seriously, what?" She kept sputtering while Simone put her hand over the other woman's mouth and rolled her eyes.
"Back to the point." Mikell clapped his hands, and looked around the table. "What we're supposed to do according to the contract is assert order as per the usual standards and mop up as many of the pirate groups as we can. Any mercenaries who don't fall in line are to be treated similarly, but we are to liaison with the Planetary Senate so they can save face pretending they hired us and not the LIC."
"Sir, the LIC doesn't hire peacekeepers." Vandal interjected slowly. "The LCAF does, or whatever they will be called when they finally integrate." Despite the union of the Commonwealth and Federated Suns, the Lyran Commonwealth Armed Forces was still separate from the Armed Forces of the Federated Suns. While there had been some efforts trying to create mixed units, the integration was still proceeding slowly. "So why is Mister Templar sending us on a pirate-hunting mission and now a peacekeeping show of force?"
"That's a good question, Vandal." Mikell nodded, and looked to Reginald. "He asks good questions, and I told you he'd be the one to ask your question." Reginald sighed and held out a C-Bill note which Mikell tucked into his pocket slowly. "The answer, of course, is he's not going to tell us straight up what he wants. I assume it's because one of these mercenary groups operated in Kuritan space during the Fourth Succession War." He pulled up a brief file, and pointed at it with a sigh. "Auburn's Lancers. Incorporated towards the end of the Fourth Succession War, November 3029, and with a lot of former Combine 'MechWarriors on the payroll. Why they're coming here, I don't know, but it could be a play for the planet."
"They'll be in a position to try to put pressure on some of the extended territory the Commonwealth picked up." Reginald pointed out, Aubrey nodding along. "So there's that to consider. But really I present the opinion we really don't need to be trying to question why we're here and what we're intended to be doing and just focus on what we're told to be doing."
"Which is?"
"Propping up the planetary rule by kicking out the people destabilizing the area?" Simone raised her hand. "I mean, that's it right?"
"But why Green Eyed Wonders?!" Casey blurted out, and Simone looked over and cuffed her on the back of the head. Others in the room stifled a chuckle at the expression on Casey's face.
"Well, that's what I'm planning on. So our mission so far is looking like this." Mikell swept aside the file images and leaned forward. "First phase is going to be to negotiate landing, and then getting the senate to authorize us for action on the planet independent of the Margrave. Who we have authorization from but I'd really not like to pull that out unless I need a trump card."
"Phase one, diplomacy. Got it." Kelly chirped from her corner; everyone glanced over as they'd actually forgotten she was there. "When do we start killing things?"
"Phase two is picking out targets and starting to sweep them out of the areas." Mikell nodded her way. "Sagittarius Lance, you are comprised of Aubrey, Reginald, Olivia, and Casey in the BattleMaster, Orion, Warhammer, and Valkyrie respectively. Pegasus Lance, you are Simone, Vandal, Otto, and Kelly. You have the Griffin, Raven, Locust, and Wolfhound." He pointed at each in turn as he spoke, and then spread his arms. "The plan is for Pegasus to scout the way, and Sagittarius will knock them down. I anticipate we'll mostly be facing smaller forces than ours."
"Unless things have gone completely wrong and our intel is too far out of date to help us." Olivia muttered into her cup. Reginald's head snapped to stare at her, and it was his turn to slap her on the back of the head. "Ow! Hey I could have chipped a tooth."
"Sir, permission to beat some sense into Olivia so she knows not to taunt Murphy next time?"
"Granted. No blood, though." He looked back at the table. "Hopefully this mission will go like the one on Anywhere and it'll be a slow, decent paycheck for us."
Reginald sighed through his hands as they came to his face immediately. "Sir, permission to beat some sense into you for tempting Murphy?"
"Denied. I've got some simulations Louis and Jade programmed, which Aubrey and Reginald cooked up which should cover our expected weight class of what we're going to be facing. Until we hit White Reach, you are to take one turn training in the simulator pods each day and report back to your Lance Commanders. Dismissed."
- Date: July 19, 3031
- Planet: White Reach, Lucent Continent
- Location: Vernier City, 'Adare Trading' Building
"Ma'am?" A young man in a suit leaned into her door. "You wanted me to tell you when Captain Pryde arrived?"
"Of course, send him in." She folded her hands and paused the newsfeed with a flick of her little finger. A thin man strode in, wearing an eye-searingly yellow-and-blue uniform of some sort. She twitched an eyebrow but forced herself to look over it and notice there were insignia and patches from various corners of the Inner Sphere on the left sleeve as sort of a tally board of where the mercenary had been. "Captain Neil Pryde. I must confess, I was not expecting to hear the shout from your outfit." She glanced along his uniform, disappointed how his expression let it be clear he had missed the double meaning. "You were settling near Pierson Lake on the Orenn Continent, right?"
The man's eyes sized her up, very obviously trying to determine exactly what she was doing here or how she got the information. He sank into a seat, with a sigh. "Right, right. Miss Kreiss, I understand right now you are the only person capable of getting things. Why is that? Surely-"
Her index finger lifted and cut him off with a motion; at least he understood his place within the office. "For a business proposition, you are approaching this very casually."
"Well, I have never really met smugglers like you who cared about formalities."
"We are a legitimate business."
He snorted, shrugging a shoulder. "Sure."
Elisanne stood up slowly and placed her palms on the table. "Mister Pryde, you would do well to remember your manners, and where you are. This is my office. Furthermore, smugglers who sneak things onto a planet in the dark of the night hoping to not get caught? They don't care about the formalities, but they also get caught far more often." She smirked and straightened. "We, on the other hand, are getting various things to the surface and the Planetary Senate has no clue what's going on. For instance." She reached into the inner breast pocket of her suit jacket and placed an object on the table; it was a gold pin with a symbol on it, an unsheathed sword upright through a sunburst. "They don't know we received this item for you, along with specific instructions you were to follow."
"Taurian stool." He took the pin and looked at it. "ComStar-"
"Holds a monopoly on the Hyperpulse Generator traffic, not on all communications. It's slower, but this arrived for you within a diplomatic pouch; someone knows how to circumvent various methods of inspection." Of course, she had copies of the documents she now fished out of a drawer on the desk and placed under her hand face-down. That was rather the whole point of this exercise, wasn't it? "There is a lot of money involved in this contract you were given, isn't there?"
"You read them?"
"They were addressed to me. Not to you." Her expression shifted to amused. "I can see why, you're hardly the sharpest spoon in the drawer." He opened his mouth, and shut it as his eyes narrowed. "Twelve thousand."
"Pardon?"
"You came to me to get a message off-planet? Ten thousand for the service, and two thousand more because you insulted me to my face, in my office." She drummed her fingers on the documents, drawing his attention to them. "And five for the orders, because you need to learn when to shut your mouth."
"I don't have to take-" He started to stand.
"Captain Pryde." She used a tone of voice which she rarely used to her customers, one she reserved for her subordinates, one which Pryde immediately recognized as one of authority. Reflex had him stiffen slightly before realizing she wasn't his superior officer, a reflex which told her all the more about the man. "Take some time to think on it further, if you like. I'll keep the orders safely in my desk and avoid the temptation to offer them to the highest bidder." She narrowed her eyes. "We are professionals, Captain."
"Professional what?" He muttered.
She sighed and drummed her fingers again. "More professional than you." She let a note of wistfulness slide into her voice. "I miss home, Captain, but I was posted here for a specific purpose and your posturing is jeopardizing it. I have spent two years building this company to appear respectable, be respectable, and now it is paying off. If you choose to mouth off to me again, sweet mercenary, I will have a good amount of fun dealing with your second in command instead." Her eyes flashed. "Do you understand?"
He reached into a pocket and held out a semi-transparent plastic card with a chip in it. She took it, sliding it into a reader on her desk. "Fifteen thousand."
"Whatever gave you the impression I'm negotiating with you?" She arched an eyebrow. "You're incurring another thousand penalty, Captain."
Captain Pryde swallowed, and glared at her. "Who taught you to be so obstinate?" He muttered, making a hand gesture to get on with it. She typed in the amount to deduct from the accounts linked on the card and slid him the orders. "Your people are part of the Federated Suns now, you should show some respect-"
"It's no longer amusing how wrong you are." She slid his chip card back to him and leaned back in her chair. "I would advise you forget we exist, Captain Pryde. If you return here, it would be wise to make sure your chain of command is clearly understood in your organization."
"Or what, your rent-a-guards will shoot me?" He snorted, and stood up. "This is the message, since I paid so much. A professional like you should still send it even if you want to refuse business after." He dropped the folded piece of paper on the desk and walked out.
Elisanne slid a pair of gloves onto her fingers, picked up the paper, and unfolded it carefully. As she was reading, the young man who served as her receptionist entered the room and shut the door. "Thank you, Private." She said absently. "Be sure to let the front desk know if he returns, they are to see him directed down a corridor on the third floor to be disposed of."
"Captain." He nodded. "Permission to speak freely?" She nodded at him, folding the paper again and looking up from her desk. "Why did we bother at all?"
"Because, if he's any kind of cautious leader he'll take the paper and run the fingerprints I left on the back of the orders. Of course, he can't do that until ComStar reopens for business, but that's not important. What's important is, should he think to do that he will realize his error." She let out a sigh. "Of course, my estimation of him will put him at trying to test our patience and resolve. Then I will test to see if that atrocious uniform he wears is bulletproof."
"Why bother with it?"
She smiled thinly and held her hand out palm-up. "Because, Private, we're professionals. It is important for us to maintain our alliances, our covers, and our reputation. If we choose to leave any of those unsatisfied, we hardly deserve to keep all of those."
"Captain, if he does run those fingerprints, won't our cover be blown?"
"Only to him. And a blustering idiot like that will quickly realize what it means, I think. And he will keep it to himself unless he wants to look over his shoulder any time he passes a Canopian parlor." She chuckled. "Find me the reports about the 'Golden Swan' shipment, if you please, Private."
A few minutes later, Captain Elissanne Kreiss took a note down about the delivery and destination before unpausing the news feed and returning to her work. "-shots were fired, but no casualties were reported as a result. The 'Hounds of Dawn' continue to terrorize the farmers of Sprawl Valley and it seems even the mercenaries on the planet have no desire to intervene."
"That's because they have orders." She muttered to herself. She'd read them, and the amusement had worn thin as she reflected on it. Those orders were not to quell the chaos, but keep stirring it up and waiting to see how long before official Lyran forces intervened. Some sort of elaborate war game, perhaps, or maybe it was more games the Successor States were willing to play. At least she wasn't a part of it, just a free agent. After taking down the notes on the illicit landing, she quietly used a button on her comm console to signal she wished her assistant's attention. A small data unit was then connected to the console so she could transfer files onto it.
As the private arrived, she held up a data unit. "Put that on the 'Golden Swan', tell the captain it needs to reach Andurien with the latest shipment. Twenty thousand, half now and half on arrival."
Let them play war games. So long as they were only games, it meant ample opportunities for a patriot like her to go unnoticed and help her homeland out while abroad. Materiel, information, anything she could pass on to help. And if the rumors about a Star League cache here were true . . . sending that information along would be worth a promotion. If she could use the strings she'd laid down thus far to snag even a portion of the cache to send it?
She'd finally get to go home.
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