WP3025 Chpt 37

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==Chapter 37 - Winged Praxis (Battletech 3015 CYOA)==
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===Catching up what was missed, again...===
Human Health Administration, Astarte
Salonika (Continent), Canopus IV
Magistracy of Canopus
24th June, 3015
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I woke up to find myself lying in a hospital bed, serenaded by the beeps of monitors and the sound of snoring. Looking over to my right, I saw Diane slumped in a chair, mouth open and drool dripping from one corner of her mouth, the obvious source of the snoring. Her clothes were rumpled, but didn’t appear to have any bloodstains or marble dust on them. Which said to me that I had been out for a while.
 
“Hey, boss.” said an older voice, roughened by smoking over the decades. I turned my gaze the other way to see an older man, wearing a tactical vest over a white lab coat. “How ya feeling?”
 
I took stock of my condition. “Pretty good for catching some bullets,” I said. “How are the others, Doc?”
 
Amos Avery “Doc” Wesson shifted the full-sized laser rifle he was cradling to a comfortable place on his lap, muzzle facing the room’s door. “Shoulda known.” He sighed. “Your girlies are fine. Blondie caught a graze, and both of them got the kinda scrapes, bumps, and bruises you get in a tussle like that, but they’re fine. And before you ask me about any other casualties, again, yeah, there were some. By some pure miracle, that girl on the stairs is alive, but some people got kacked.”
 
I grunted. “Any of us?” I asked on reflex, then something occurred to me. “Wait, again? Have we had this conversation before?”
 
“Oh yeah,” he said. “You got your bell rung pretty good, son. Ain’t exactly uncommon to have some trouble with your memory while you’re recovering. Still, the drugs the birds here have you on are supposed to get you straight…they just have side effects that act the same. We’ve had this chat maybe four, five times? Anyway, assuming it’s finally all out of your system you’ll be able to start keeping your memories long-term like. They figured on it being clear about two hours ago, but they didn’t count on Southwestern cussedness when it comes to hanging onto a high.”
 
I smiled. “So why don’t you skip my questions and give me the answers?”
 
“Can do, boss.” The old man, who along with having no-fooling medical training piloted an Awesome by the name of Raygun Gothic leaned back. “So, the Coyotes made it out of that fight clean. You were the only one of us that needed any real attention. The other side got it much worse. Most of them ended up dead, outside of the two that got the boots put to them. Mighta been worse for them to survive. Abbey lost a nun.”
 
“I thought the novitiate survived.” I cut in.
 
“She did. No, the deader was watching the fight from a window.” Doc tapped one of his bushy silver eyebrows. “Shhhp! Instant lights out. Rumor goes that she had a client at the time. Talk about not getting what you paid for.” He shuddered. “Anyway some other civvies got caught in the crossfire. Some hurt, some dead.”
 
“Who were they?” I asked.
 
“Getting to that, hold your horses.” grumbled the old Mechwarrior. “According to the interrogation of the punching bags, they were part of an anti-Marik group.”
 
“Fuck Marik,” I said on reflex.
 
“Right?” asked Doc with a chuckle. “Not that it makes no difference down here. Leaguer’s a Leaguer to them. And before you ask, they say they did it on their own. Their leader’s idea.”
 
“Who is conveniently dead, I assume?” I asked, pinching the bridge of my nose.
 
“Your doing,” said the mechwarrior. “Lady you tagged in the park with the side shot through the lungs.”
 
“Huh.” I had just thought of them as a loader for the machine gun at the time.
 
“Anywho,” said the man. “We tossed them over to the Canopians once we got an idea about who the rest of them were, and some of the folks went hunting.”
 
“Whose idea was that?” he asked
 
“Would it help if I said it was yours?”, Doc asked
 
“No, it would not. I was concussed.”
 
“Well, it was mostly just folks doing what we do. Sierra Foxtrot, you know the score.”
 
I did. “How bad is it?”
 
“No one’s dead. Barely anyone needed patching up. We even made some friends along the way.”
 
I sighed. Doc obviously wasn’t going to be any more forthcoming. “So where am I?”
 
“HHA facility in Astarte.” said Doc.
 
I looked back and forth between him and Diane. “How are the two of you here then? They said no Leaguers last time I was here.”
 
“Big lady pulled some strings, is my understanding,” said Doc. “Got your wife on a cleared list, especially since you’re a patient here. As for me, I’m officially attending a series of lectures on some stuff they consider basics. They’re playing nice with your medical staff after all, and I’m the doctor who’s handiest with an iron. Makes a decent excuse for bodyguarding.”
 
I nodded slowly. “So what aren’t I feeling through the drugs?”
 
He chuckled. “I ain’t your attending, son. I’ll give her a call.”
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Meeting the attending physician 
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I was surprised to see Lien come through the door a few minutes later. “Hello Gideon.” she said, having given a nod to Doc as he covered the door despite having been the one who called her. “Hopefully, this time you’ll get to remember our chat.”
 
“It’s disconcerting,” I said. “What’s the damage?”
 
“Nothing we couldn’t fix,” she said. “Honestly, if you hadn’t knocked your head so hard when you got shot, you’d be an outpatient case.” She gave me an arch look. “Not bright by the way, standing up like that. Cover is your friend in a firefight.”
 
Which was true but… “What, were you watching?”
 
Lien pointed her chin towards Diane, who was still asleep in the chair. “Your wife told me what happened. My teacher and I were on the response team to the incident.”
 
I grunted. “Well, I defer to your expertise in ground fighting, bouncy,” I said with a bit of a grin. “So, what did happen?”
 
She sighed and shook her head. “One of the assaulters caught you with a burst after you called in the airstrike on the MG. Fortunately they were carrying a subgun, so the ballistic cloth in your long coat caught it. Smashed a vidnovel in a pocket, but you didn’t even crack any ribs. Of course, then you fell and bashed your head against a statue base.”
 
“Any fracture?” I asked.
 
She smirked. “You know full well your head is harder than that.” Her expression cleared. “No, thankfully, though you did concuss yourself.”
 
“Must have been pretty bad if I’ve been out for days,” I said.
 
“I don’t like to call any concussion not so bad, especially when you lose consciousness from it, but it could have been a lot worse. You’ve not been out all this time, you just can’t remember it all, and that’s mostly the drugs. Between the Contessa Landynski and apparently the Magestrix putting pressure on us, they decided on a full-scale treatment plan. You’ll be just fine.”
 
“Just shuddersome to be missing that time,” I said. “I know memory’s a fragile thing, but there’s a big difference between knowing it and feeling it.”
 
She gave me a sympathetic smile. “I can appreciate that. One thing that you’ll be glad to know is that we tested your neurohelmet compatibility. You had a little drop when you got in, but following a round of TMS, you were back up to your baseline, which are frankly ridiculous numbers.”
 
Doc chuckled. “Southwesterners, little lady. We’re built different.”
 
“Well, you’d have to be to get a read through such thick skulls.” she shot back. “Anyway Gideon, we’ll want to run some last rounds of tests to make sure that eye drugs have done their job and make sure you remember all this the next time you wake up.”
 
Something occurred to me and my breath froze in my chest as Lien started to go over readouts. Doc had said he’d had the same conversation with me something like five times before. With no continuity of memory, it was like those Gideons had died when they went to sleep. Was I going to be the next Gideon snuffed out? It was a darkly fitting punishment for what I did to the local version of me when I woke up on New Olympia.
 
Lien placed a comforting hand on my shoulder. “You’ll be fine.” she whispered to me. “The drugs are out of your system, and your EEG is firmly in the normal range.”
 
I looked up into her grey-blue eyes. “How many times have you told me that?” I whispered back.
 
She shook her head fractionally. “None. I don’t lie to patients. I thought you’d likely remember last time, but it was marginal, and I told you so.” She nodded over to Diane’s sleeping form. “It’ll help if you wait until you can talk with your wife before you fall asleep.” She smiled. “I like her. She’s good for you, even if I was expecting someone else when they told me your wife was coming.”
 
I cleared my throat, my fear missing, but feeling incredibly embarrassed. “Yeah…well…yeah…”
 
She giggled a bit. “I know what happened, Gideon. I’m sorry you have to deal with it. I hope you’ll get to a point where you don’t.”
 
“Me too.” Not that things could go back to how they were. Things kept on twisting on me. “Lord knows when that’ll be.”
 
“We live in times of change,” said Lien. “Who knows? It could be tomorrow.”
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===Bedside brainstorming===
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“Hey you,” said Diane with a sleepy smile as she came awake, combing back her fiery locks with her fingers. “How are you doing?”
 
I had put down the noteputer I’d been reading reports on as soon as I heard her breathing shift from the steady snores to incipient wakefulness, grateful that Doc had shifted out into the hallway. “Mmmmmm.” I said noncommittally.
 
“They’re alive in here,” she said, putting a finger to her temple. “You might not remember them, but I do.”
 
I tried to smile and failed. “Can’t say I’m worried about them right now.”
 
My wife kissed my shoulder. “I’ll remember you too, if you don’t. Gid, you’re still here, and thank God for it.”
 
I sucked in a breath. “Thank you, Di. Really. I…I just feel like I’m waiting to see if I’m executed.”
 
“Scootch,” said Vixen, climbing into the hospital bed with me, wrapping her arms around me. “It’s going to sleep, love.” she murmured as she stroked my back. “You’ve done it before, you’ll do it again, and you’ll be here when you wake up, same as I’m still here.”
 
“I suppose if I don’t, I’ll never know it.” I said.
 
“You’ll be here,” she said, voice full of certainty. “And I’ll be with you.”
 
This time I did smile. “Lien is right, you are good to me.”
 
Diane rolled her eyes. “Well yeah, duh.” She smiled to take the sting out of it. “I like her. I can see why you took up with her. She’s cute.”
 
I thought back to my first days on the Siduri. “I think you might be overly fair to me.”
 
She poked me in the chest. “Stop it. There’s no point beating yourself up over the past. Besides,” she said. “This is more of you wishing for something that just can’t happen.”
 
“What?” I asked, face scrunching up. “What do you mean?”
 
“Gid,” she said patiently. “We both know there’s a big part of you that wishes you weren’t at the center of a political mess, and that Terri wasn’t a noble.”
 
I didn’t say anything. It was true of course, but it didn’t feel right to say that to my wife’s face.
 
Not that she needed me to. “Nothing I didn’t know at the beginning, Gid,” she said. “And you’re better to me than you give yourself credit for.”
 
“But…”
 
She pinched mine, shutting me up. “But nothing. I know you want things to be fair. I know you care. And I know that you’re doing the best you can.”
 
“It’s never enough,” I said.
 
“To change the world to the utopia you think it should be?” she asked. “No. But you’re wrong. It is enough. It’s all anyone can ask.”
 
My lips twisted. “The hell of it is, I know the world isn’t fair. It’s a major fallacy and highly correlated to psychological disorders. I still want it to be, though.”
 
“That’s what I’m talking about, Gid. You haven’t given up on it. You just need to forgive yourself for things not being there yet.”
 
“Lo aleicha,” I recited, “hammelachah ligmor, velo attah ven chorin libbatel mimmennah.” I smiled at her. “A regular Rebbe Tarfon, you are.”
 
She gave me a shrug and a smile. “Glad I could help. What does it mean?”
 
“You are not obligated to complete the work, but neither are you free to desist from it.” I translated.
 
“Well there you go. You knew the lesson already.”
 
“Doesn’t mean I can’t lose sight of it,” I said. “Thank you, Di.”
 
“It’s why I’m here,” she said. “Or at least one of the reasons. Don’t suppose you feel like going to sleep? I’ll watch over you.”
 
I shook my head, but it wasn’t the creeping dread that drove it. “No. Still going over reports.”
 
Vixen shifted herself so that she was sat up in bed next to me. “Want to bounce ideas off me?”
 
“If you like.” I said, doubtfully.
 
She smiled. “Gid, the fact that you trust me enough to share your thoughts with me means a lot.”
 
I spread my hands in acknowledgement, nodded, and grabbed the noteputer from where it had been shoved against the bed’s rail by our bodies. “Well, I’m pleasantly surprised by how little blood our people spilled when they went on their hunting trips.”
 
“That was a shock,” Di said. “Terri said they were baying for blood when you first came here.”
 
I shook my head. “I’m not surprised. An attack on a southwesterner by a bunch of gringos is one thing, but to do it on a church’s grounds, even a Magdalene one? That was always going to send the norteños on the warpath, and the Cowboys wouldn’t be far behind.”
 
“I think it did a lot of good for Terri’s standing with your people, jumping out in front of that mob and leading them in what they wanted.”
 
“Probably,” I said. “I’m just wondering how that’s going to shake out with the population at large.” The so-called ‘patriotic organization’ who the hit squad had come from weren’t alone in their distaste for us ‘foreign mercenaries’, which had led to the odd situation of Magestrix Kyalla being officially displeased with anti-League action and the groups that called for it, normally one of her major sources of support.
 
That had led to the expected backlash from people who saw Kyalla reversing on her very sincere distaste for anything related to the League. The political reporters were going crazy with speculation…as were the gossip columnists, some of which were speculating that I had ‘gonads of germanium’ and had turned Kyalla’s mind in a night and day of unbridled passion.
 
It was a mess, to say the least, not helped by the fact that the officer who took charge of our response was a no-fooling FWL noble with family ties to the ruling government. Or that so much of our kit was Star League issue. Canopians, for all that they weren’t culturally warped like the Taurians, still remembered the Camerons’ boot on their necks. Chauvinistic Leaguers with SAS guns and vics weren’t a great look.
 
Which was why I was pleased to see that the citizens calling for a detente with the League, as well as some of the male rights activist groups…and that wording still threw me for a loop…had turned out to be such a strong force in the motivated population of Red Rivers. We had our in to the people of the borough, and even for those who weren’t on our side specifically, going to discuss charitable aid with the Magdelenes had warmed people to us.
 
“Seems to be going pretty well for us,” she said.
 
“I guess I’m just expecting a backswing,” I said. “Something our enemies can take advantage of.”
 
“You mean Rebin.” she said.
 
“He’s my leading suspect for the hit’s sponsor,” I said. “But I really can’t prove anything, and there’s too many others that could benefit from it. Hell, for all we know, it was Colonel Van Dame.”
 
Diane sniffed a laugh. “I think she’d choose a more competent bunch.” 
 
“Yeah,” I said. “We were lucky, but we only got the chance because they were incompetent.”
 
“You need to think about bodyguards,” she said. “And what sort of appearances you can make.”
 
I frowned as something in me rebelled at the idea. “You’re right,” I said, dragging the words out reluctantly. “But there’s only so much I can go into isolation.”
 
“Is that pride talking or actual necessity?” she asked, archly.
 
I took a second to consider it. “Both,” I admitted. “Pride’s part of it, but I have to put on the face for the troops, and there’s things where the personal touch is needed.”
 
“How much body armor can I get you to wear?” she asked.
 
“I’m already wearing a ballistic cloth duster,” I said. “Speaking of which, gonna need a new one. And a spare. Maybe see about adding trauma plates to them too.”
 
“I’d be happier if you’d put on one of those armor suits.” she admitted.
 
“If I’m wearing one, you’re wearing one too,” I said. “You’re a target too, you know.” I paused as she grimaced and nodded. “But I get the feeling that those might attract more attention than they’re worth.”
 
“We’re not going to be able to hide from the robes forever,” she said.
 
I shook my head. “We’re not hiding as it is, just trying not to provoke them. It’s not like that precentor didn’t give us special treatment on Fanardir. But it could draw the Bounty Hunter too. Pendejo’s apparently pretty jealous of his image.”
 
“Talk about trouble we don’t need,” she said. “Even if I doubt he’d make his way out here.”
 
“We can hope,” I said. “Anyway, I’ll look at a torso protector, alright? Something low-profile but tough.” I grimaced. “I certainly wouldn’t mind some more spine support if I have to dodge another shotgun blast on some stairs.”
 
“I’m getting you a sword too,” she said. “If only for the fuck-off factor.”
 
I didn’t argue. Truthfully, I liked the idea of carrying a sword, even if it wasn’t a practical weapon. “I’m thinking about a stock and proper energy pack for my pistol too,” I said. “I got bit by the reload in that fight.”
 
Diane nodded. “I’m thinking about upgrading, myself. A magnum just isn’t enough against that sort of firepower.”
 
“Lasers are nice.” I said.
 
“A good way to lose eyesight if you can’t get your shades on,” she said. “Though I guess the Canopians have something for that.”
 
“Lucky me,” I said. “Anyway, back to the band of hooligans, I’m actually feeling somewhat optimistic at our chances of pulling off a low-intensity contract, given the reports Cliffhanger’s given me.”
 
“Are you thinking a partial deployment, or the whole unit?” asked Vixen.
 
I clucked my tongue a few times. “Well, we don’t have the spacelift to take the whole unit, so that kinda says it all.”
 
“You know what I mean.”
 
I nodded. “Probably going to depend on what sort of contract we can find. But at the very least, we’re going to have to do some shuffling of the companies and maybe even some lances.” I brought up the force structure on the noteputer. “For example, Ariahai. I think I might be able to fill out Adir lance, if I’m lucky.”
 
“You found some people who fit the profile?”
 
“Couple of Jewish Cowboys stepped up. Hikaru Goldblatt and Maxine Zheni. Both have the compatibility and reflexes for it. Cliffhanger said they both made it through prifly, and they know how to make a mech move.”
 
“That’s three of four, including you,” she said.
 
I nodded. “I’m hoping to get Natan to convert.”
 
“Not me?”
 
I shook my head. “I think I need you in charge of the fighters,” I said. “At least when I’m riding herd on the Mechs.”
 
“Terri’s not going to like that,” warned Diane.
 
“At the end of the day, you’ve got more command experience,” I said. “Though she’ll be in charge of a squadron.”
 
“I’ll give her Crossbones.” said Diane.
 
I blinked. “Are you sure?”
 
“That Terri needs to know I trust her?” asked Vixen. “Absolutely. I can run Skull as a five-man when you aren’t with us.”
 
“In one of the Samurai,” I said.
 
Diane winced but nodded. “I was afraid you were going to say that. But yeah, I get it. I’m thinking Skull gets the Spads with our Samurai, the Crossbones gets the Stingray, Corsair, and four of the Null Sig Sabres, and Cutlass gets a pair of Samurai and the scattering Sabres to fill it out. The rest will be reserve, or with Training Command.”
 
I nodded. “Sounds workable.” Her organization leveraged the effects we could get from the Samurai’s ECM systems and spread with our sensor scattering birds to best effect. I had been thinking a mix that put one Samurai and a pair of sensor scattering birds into each squadron, but that started to mix more thrust curves that was really tactically wise.
 
“No comments?”
 
“Either you’re in command or you’re not.” I said. “And you’re in command.”
 
She gave me a kiss. Apparently I had said something right. “So, if you’re only going to be able to get four LAMs crewed at a push, what’s your plan for Ariahai?”
 
“Well, the Stingers go into storage on the Benjy,” I said. “Way too tempting of a target for a snatch otherwise. Then I’m going to grab third Diablo and first Express and slot them in as Barak and Kfir lances.” I chuckled.
 
“What’s so funny?”
 
I shook my head. “Nothing. Just thinking that putting two Awesomes and a Thunderbolt in Barak lance is a bit on the nose.”
 
“I assume this is funnier if you speak Hebrew?”
 
“A Barak brings an ack twenty and four medium lasers to the dogfight.” I said.
 
Vixen thought about it a moment, and laughed. “Yeah, that is pretty on the nose.” she said.
 
“Anyway, assuming we bring three companies to the party, Bronco and Cochise are ready for playtime as well. As for Diablo and Express, the two of them together ought to be more than sufficient for Training Command’s needs and holding down the fort if someone gets frisky.”
 
My wife nodded. “You might want to keep a couple of the LAMs with Cliffhanger, just in case some new candidates show up.”
 
I rolled the idea around in my mind. “Maybe,” I said. It would represent a loss of training time…though we could do the screening just fine, and we had Battlemechs and ASFs we could put them in… “Maybe,” I repeated.
 
“What about vehicles?” asked Diane, leaving the subject for the moment.
 
“Still working that through.” I said. “I’m trying to balance air defense, artillery support, infantry mobility, and having a hammer to smash anything stupid enough to take us head on, and then fit that into the Fortress bays.” I blew out a breath. “Pain in the ass.”
 
“Speaking of air defense, what are you doing with Zelko? He’s in Diablo second, isn’t he?”
 
“He’s doing a good job at Training Command,” I said. Vixen gave me an unamused look. “What? He is!” She didn’t relent. I looked away. “I’ll see about shuffling him into Ariahai.”
 
I got another kiss. “I know you don’t like him, Gid. You might be able to bring him along without his 'mech, or ship it as cargo, but you don’t want to waste his talents.”
 
“Like to waste him.” I grumbled idly, even as I knew she was right. A yawn escaped me.
 
The fear rose, but I concentrated on the feeling of my wife’s arms around me, her breath caressing my cheek, her lips soothing my tension. Under her watch, I drifted off to sleep.
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*;Notes from the Author : Dammit Gideon, this is Battletech, not SOMA. Stop thinking about identity death and its consequences. You've got enough mental baggage as it is.Anyway, a somewhat slower, and arguably lighter chapter to follow up our ballistic return, along with the debut of a character I mentioned formulating a long time back. Welcome 'Doc' in all your referential glory. Given the talking about reshuffling of the CMC TO&E, I'll be posting an updated one in the near future. Upcoming we get to see how Terri's been dealing with this latest situation, contract negotiations, and perhaps even some flying.
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