FaRtaL Chpt 41

==From a Ristar to a Lady - Chapter 41 -==
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===Enter the Mercenaries for Hire===
Larney Plains, Farnsworth
Kilbourne PDZ, Woodbine Operational Area
Federation Suns
5th October, 3061Local Time: 1400 hours
“What a dump.” Gast griped as they trooped into the abandoned base, after getting down from the jeeps they had used to disembark from their DropShip.
After jumping into Farnsworth, the former clanners and current mercenaries had communicated with the local authorities about their intentions to set up shop and repair their equipment. Farnsworth was the perfect staging point to get into the Trivet. It was within a single jump of Inman, and two jumps of Delacambre and Altoona.
They, the warriors and the support staff, had all agreed that instead of jumping blindly into the Trivet and loudly declaring to look for Finn Rason and challenge him, it was better to gather more information first. Hence a staging post nearby. Besides, they needed an extended break to recover from months of hard travel and fighting.
Rather to their surprise, the local government and nobles of Farnsworth were only too willing to lease a sizeable plot of land, centered around an old base used to house mercenaries or House troops transiting through the world. With the funds they had amassed fighting riff-raff throughout the spinward Periphery, they could easily stay on Farnsworth for years without running out of money.
When they had landed at the tiny drop port, they were greeted by the local planetary ruler, a Count, escorted by only a smattering of guards, with no mechs present. When asked why they had been so trusting, and that they could have been pirates, Count Otis Jepard simply said, “If you’re pirates, we’re dead anyway. We only have two light mechs on Farnsworth for defense.”
That was hardly reassuring. The Count had only been all too happy to accept the sale of two more salvaged light mechs, a Locust and a Hornet, from the Jaguar’s Spleen in exchange for a two year lease for the base and a sum of money.
So at least the Farnsworth garrison would now have four light mechs for defence. They all knew it was pathetic, but appearances had to be maintained.
“Aff. However, it is a dump with a HPG station, and now, it is our dump.” Erlin said as they stood in the empty mech bay, covered in dust and overgrown plants. He suppressed a groan at the sight. “This is going to take a lot of work.”
Farnsworth’s real defense against pirates was actually the local Com Guard garrison, two mixed Level IIs from the 323rd Division, in charge of protecting the local Class B Hyperpulse Generator Station. Farnsworth was also an ideal staging point due to its HPG station, which allowed them access to the faster-than-light communications network operated by Comstar.
Even if Camille still harbored a grudge against them for Tukayyid, she had to admit the need to plug into the network.
Their leased base was only a few kilometres away from the drop port, an ancient facility once used by the Star League, then later the Federated Suns, to station troops on Farnsworth. As the planet declined in importance with the Inner Sphere’s gradual loss of technology, not even pirates found much worth raiding Farnsworth for. Hence the meagre defences, as the AFFS, and then the AFFC, slowly denuded the local forces in favour of strengthening its forces on other worlds.
Comstar set up a HPG station on Farnsworth simply to link up the network, not because of any inherent value to the system itself.
Even the steel mesh fencing surrounding the base was dilapidated, rusting and barely standing, with holes all over. The gates were not even closed, anybody could have walked in. It was a sign of how far Farnsworth had fallen that not even juvenile delinquents bothered with the place.
The base facility itself was solidly built ferrocrete, but obviously needed a lot of cleaning up for both the exterior and the internal spaces. The various bays were devoid of equipment, they would have to move some over from the DropShip for the mechs.
The barracks were next to the bays, along with the various rooms and facilities that every military unit required. Thankfully, the techs had reported that the plumbing still worked, which was a huge relief. Less pleasing was the fact that the base was not connected to the local electrical grid, so they would have to find a generator to provide electricity instead. Thankfully, they did have several small fusion generators on the DropShip that could be transported over and plugged into the base to power it up.
Food was also not a problem. Even before they had landed, Camille had secured several local wholesalers to provide groceries, and there were a few competent cooks amongst the techs who could make satisfactory meals from the supplied ingredients. Everybody was quite sick by now of clan combat rations, even if they still had a lot of it. Fresh rations would restore their flagging morale better than any victory.
They had spent months in the vast expanse of space, fighting pirates and bandits all along the spinward Periphery. The constant action had honed the skills of the warriors to a fine edge, as well as picking up a lot of isorla, more than they could use. Thankfully, most of the parts were compatible with their mechs, since the majority of the non-weapon components in their mechs either used standard parts or of Inner Sphere manufacture. The sole exception was the clan grade ferro-fibrous armor for Gast’s Night Chanter, but they had enough of it that it was not going to be an issue for a while yet.
Furthermore, Camille, through her own contacts, told them that the Diamond Sharks were slowly sending their Jumpships throughout the Inner Sphere to sell their wares. It was increasingly possible that they could purchase more armor supplies from the Diamond Shark merchants, as well as more weapons pods for their OmniMechs.
Their 'mechs were still left behind on the DropShip, no point bringing them to the base when there was no equipment available, guarded by the DropShip crew. Everybody else pitched in to help.
Larris and Gast took two techs with them to establish some sort of basic security system, simple trip sensors and the like, especially around the main building, since the fence was essentially a lost cause. The holes in the fence would have to be fixed another day - they would probably have to hire a local contractor for that.
Camille and their head tech Ratina took on the challenge of setting up a command post, having dragged the gear over from the DropShip. They found a suitable room and put up communicators and display screens, all the minutiae of running a combat unit.
The remaining personnel focused on cleaning up their leasehold and preparing the equipment on the DropShip for transport to the base. The Count had provided them with the contacts for local transport companies who should be able to move their heavy equipment.
Erlin himself supervised the entire operation, walking the grounds and ensuring that everybody had what they needed for their tasks. He had never wanted to take charge, and he often found himself way over his head, and woefully unprepared for it besides. Star Captain Avryl Showers had made it seem all so easy when she was in charge…
He had belatedly realized that the only reason she made it seem so easy was because she spent a lot of her free time on administrative tasks while the other members of the Binary were free from such duties. Out of sight, he had no idea there was so much administrative work!
And that was not counting Red Cavalcade, their Broadsword DropShip, commanded by a solahma aerospace pilot Gerwin, led a crew of four other solahma warriors who served as gunners for the DropShip, and four techs who helped to maintain the other functions of the DropShip. They worked to secure the DropShip, and Erlin knew they might also have to post guards on the DropShip at all times, further stretching their already meager manpower. They could hire local security guards as an option, but Gerwin insisted that one member of the unit must always be present at all times, just in case. That was prudent.
He also could not ignore the crew of the Scout class JumpShip Silence of Night, who had integrated into the unit ever since their escape from the Occupation Zone in the wake of Operation Bulldog. Another twenty crewmembers under the command of Merchant Plytor manned the JumpShip.
Plytor and his crew were still recharging the JumpShip’s drive, after which they would jump to Kilbourne, which had a recharge station at the zenith jump point, where they could get some much needed maintenance on the JumpShip and spend some shore time on the gravdeck.
Once the maintenance was completed, Plytor had planned to take up ad-hoc jobs in the region, which would earn them both money and goodwill from the locals.
It was also one way to insert their own people into the Trivet for fact-finding missions, once they had settled in on Farnsworth.
The work was not even half-complete when they took a dinner break. The two techs on kitchen duty had used the delivery of raw food to whip up a dish of eggs scrambled with ham and bell peppers, along with some chicken soup and fresh bread as carbs.
After subsisting on clan rations for weeks, the food tasted like manna from heaven, or at least that was what Erlin said.
“So what is the plan?” Larris asked, his mouth full of food as he chewed.
Erlin replied, “We will need to send people to the Trivet. Find out where Finn Rason is, the environment he operates in. If possible, his weaknesses too.”
“None of us are trained for this kind of subterfuge,” Camille commented.
“And we need not be,” insisted Erlin. “Just treat it like a fact-finding tour. In fact, whoever is sent can treat it as exactly that, a break from work. While the rest of us labor away here on Farnsworth.” He could already hear the groans from the gathered personnel, and smiled sardonically.
Gast said, “So, the standard five Ws and one H?” Where, when, what, who, why, how.
“We already know the why.” Erlin explained, “We need to find Finn Rason because he probably knows where that traitorous surat Pence Lamongue is. And maybe take a piece out of Finn too while we are at it for all that he cost us during Bulldog.”
Camille added, “We know the where too. The Trivet worlds, Inman, Delacambre, and Altoona. But from everything we have found out so far, he would most probably be on Delacambre, his holding. If not, then on Inman, the capital world.”
“What is left is the who, when, and what,” Larris took a swig of water from his mug.
“By process of elimination, it cannot be any of the non-warriors, because we are better able to assess the local conditions for battle.” said Gast thoughtfully. “It cannot be Gerwin, because we need her to pilot the Red Cavalcade, nor any of her warriors, because they are not so suited to ground assessment. So that leaves the four of us.”
Camille’s eyes brightened, but before she could speak, Erlin cut in. “Camille must stay here in case we need to negotiate anything. And… I also need to be around to coordinate everything that is going on. I never realised how much work the Star Captain put into running the unit.”
That got Gast angry, and he slammed one fist on the table, nearly denting the surface. “Yeah, she worked so hard, and what was her reward? Getting shot in the back by that filthy ]]abtakha]] Burrock! We should never have trusted Pence at all!”
They sat glumly, silently agreeing. It was Star Captain Avryl Showers who looked past their support of the Warden philosophy, and recruited them into the Jaguar’s Mist Binary.
They might be Wardens, but they were not going to pass up the chance to win glory for themselves and their adopted clan. Furthermore, the Clans had always held a special disdain for House Kurita, since the Draconis Combine had been one of the perpetrator Houses that had purposefully raised tensions within the Star League prior to its collapse. So it was an easy choice for them back then.
“Getting back on point,” Erlin sought to focus their attention on the task at hand, “that means we are down to two options.” He pointed to Gast, then to Larris. “Either one of you.”
“We fight for it?” said Larris laconically. “Augmented or unaugmented?”
“Neg,” Erlin cut in before Gast could reply. “Let us look at it logically to determine the best choice. Larris, you were raised wholly in Clan Smoke Jaguar. How much do you know of the civilian castes?”
The usually taciturn freeborn mechwarrior suddenly looked flustered, “Errr… my parents were scientists, so I grew up in a scientific research station before I joined a training sibko at seven.”
Gast asked, “Did you ever spend money in a market?”
Larris lowered his head. They all knew that as the second most important caste, scientists usually had most of their needs catered to by the other castes, and rarely had reason to venture out themselves. And once in a warrior sibko, there was even less reason to do so.
Gast then said smugly, “Well, as bondsman to the Star Captain, I ran a lot of errands for her. Even in the Occupation Zone, I continued to do that.”
“In short, you were her gopher,” Camille pointed out.
“Go… what? What is that?” Gast was puzzled.
She replied, “A gopher is somebody who does menial tasks for others, which was exactly what you were.”
“Ah, yes, so I was her gopher,” said Gast proudly, “And I did it so well that she kept me in that role!”
They all rolled their eyes.
“So you think this experience can help you fit in?” Erlin asked skeptically. “You sure about that?”
“I know enough.” Gast ticked off his fingers. “One and most importantly, keep a low profile. For example… Erlin, even if you are not staying here, you cannot be an option.”
“Why not?” Erlin was a bit miffed.
“Your appearance.” Gast smirked. “You look too much like a Spheroid aristocrat.”
It was painfully obvious to any observer. With his blond hair, Teutonic coloring, and military bearing, Erlin could easily pass off as a Steiner royal, and as such would never go under the radar, so to speak. “Bah, blame it on my Steiner genes,” muttered Erlin. The scions of Bloodhouse Steiner, descendants of Kailen Steiner who left with General Aleksandr Kerensky on the Exodus, mostly bore the same physical appearance as their ancestors.
Gast pointed to himself, “While I, on the other hand, look like just any freebirth off the street. Second, I know how to make small talk, find out things. Maybe not as good as you, Camille, but I know enough. Finally…”
“Finally?” Larris asked.
“I usually have luck on my side.” Gast smiled broadly. “Remember all those close calls I have?”
“Your luck is bound to run out one day.” Camille commented drily. “Let us just hope it does not happen on your trip.”
Larris raised an eyebrow. “But how is Gast going to get there?”
“Tour group,” replied Camille, “There are always Spheroids looking to experience other worlds. We will find locals who might be interested in traveling to Winfield or the Trivet. Plytor can transport them there, and on Winfield, they can hitch another JumpShip to Inman, or Plytor can even transport the tour group there.”
“Why not jump to Inman directly?” Erlin looked puzzled.
“Because it’s too obvious,” explained Camille, “Chances are, a group from Winfield is likely to be larger, since it’s a richer world. Easier for Gast to hide who he is too. If we set up a tour group from here, the locals will be more likely to know who he is, and you will remember we always had problems hiding our origins. But on Winfield, if he joins a group there, he’s just another tourist seeking another hitch.”
“That brings up another problem.” Gast frowned. “I will need documentation though. Passport of some kind.”
Camille waved off the concern. “That is easy enough. Forged documents are everywhere, and nobody ever bothers to check anyway. In fact, I believe we can even just apply for a Federated Commonwealth passport at the local office.”
Larris blinked, “But do they not ask for proof of birth, dates…”
“Just a small bribe is enough to get past these problems,” Camille smiled sharkishly like the namesake of her former clan. “Just a few hours at the local immigration office, and I can assure you Gast will be an upstanding passport holder! We will need to first grease a few palms in the underworld here, find out who in the office is amiable to such… arrangements. It might take a while, but it can be done. I will get it settled.”
Erlin gave her a thumbs up. “And in the meantime, Gast, you need to come up with a plausible cover story, and start going out in Farnsworth to get a better feel of civilian life. Practice talking to them. Would also be good to build our bona fides with the locals.” He turned his head. “Camille, you go with him, at least for a time until you think he can handle himself.”
“And the rest of us?” Larris gestured to himself and the gathered techs who were still eating.
Erlin shrugged. “We still have mechs to fix up in the meantime. Good to have mechs in reserve, in case our primary rides get too damaged.”
In addition to the two light mechs they had sold to Farnsworth, they still had enough salvage, weapons, and parts to put together an Enforcer, a Jenner, and a Spider.
From what he had heard, Erlin knew this actually made them quite rich for a mercenary unit, and with recruitment, they could even build up to almost two Spheroid lances. Erlin added a mental note to find out which of their techs were training washouts who could be persuaded to test up. It might not be acceptable in the clans, but Clan Smoke Jaguar was dead anyway and they had to make their own way in the Inner Sphere.
But right now, their sole objective was to find and kill Pence Lamongue. Whatever happened after that… they would decide after they had achieved their vengeance. If they even lived after the inevitable clash.
His eyes burned. “Once we have the information we need, we will corner Finn Rason and find out where Pence Lamongue is. And then we will finally extract surkairede from that surat. This is our rede, our will.”
His hands gripped the edges of the metal table so tightly that it began to creak. Erlin intoned, “Thus shall it stand, until we all fall.”
The reply from the rest was unanimous and resounding. “Seyla!”
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===Mercenary Unit Profile: Jaguar’s Splee===
Jaguar’s Spleen (not registered with MRBC, no rating)
Mech Lance / Elite / Reliable
CO (acting) / Warrior Erlin, Blackjack-O
Warrior Gast, Night Chanter
Warrior Larris, Strider
Warrior Camille, Owens
Technical support staff (8 pax)
Chief Tech Ratina
Seven technicians
Broadsword Dropship Red Cavalcade (9 pax)
CO: Warrior Pilot Gerwin (aerospace phenotype)
Chief Gunner: Warrior Simon (aerospace phenotype)
Three gunners (aerospace phenotypes)
Four dropship technicians
Scout Jumpship Silence of Night (21 pax)
CO: Merchant Plytor
Twenty JumpShip technicians / laborers
Total Personnel Count: 42 pax
Author's Comments:
Note that the Jaguar’s Spleen don’t quite exactly follow the rules as laid out in Campaign Operations. For starters, by right no clan unit would become a mercenary unit (although we have the canon example of the Raging Horde, an all-infantry mercenary unit). Second… no administrative personnel!
Doctors? Medtechs? Some of the techs doubled up as medtechs, while they don’t have doctors/scientists.
Accountants? Quartermasters? This is a clan unit, quiaff? I guess the merchant Plytor can do some of these. Avryl used to assume this duty, but in her absence… uhhhh… let’s just say somebody’s going to be very irritated when she finds out about missing paperwork and incomplete records.
Human resources? Uhm really?
Lawyers? You’re kidding, right? But don’t worry, the lawyers will come in significantly later.
Notable isorla/projects/salvage
Enforcer 4R, Jenner 7-D, Spider 5D. These mechs are slowly being pieced together. The gang hasn’t decided whether to sell the mechs once they’re done with the repairs, or to keep them for a rainy day.
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Chapter 41