SmoMir Chpt 17

==Mirrorsmoke Company - Chapter 17 -==
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===Compounding Implementations of Actions Taken===
The Vault, Nordmarka
New Oslo​, Draconis Combine
October, 3018[12:34] LOCAL TIME 
We had our in, or at least, we thought we had it. My overeager attack at the RECYCLE facility had been met with mixed results, with the Combine putting Albany City under martial law as a response. To Logan, that was proof enough that double agents were in the Resistance supplying them with trapped or outright false information; lures as a honey pot for bigger threats. In his words, we were lucky this time.
 
He rolled with the punches, using the opportunity to make contact with the journalist that had given us the location of that facility, striking a deal that would have benefited both parties.
 
It had been over two weeks since our prison break, disseminating the former inmates across multiple cities, some even moving up here in Nordmarka.
 
That should have been our in.
 
"The situation is rapidly becoming untenable. I must delay our end of the bargain." We've learned the Resistance was divided by cells, heavily fragmented and each cell had their own autonomy. No one knew the full picture, and if you took one cell out, you were nowhere near close enough to taking the whole organization apart. Some cells dealt in criminal operations, supplying the cause with ill gotten gains from smuggling or shady ventures. Some were spies themselves, supplying everyone with whatever information they could scrounge through bugs and well placed ears.
 
We had the misfortune to be talking to the latter.
 
"Now I realize it was my mistake for saying yes to a gentleman's agreement," Logan said, angrily. "But you do know this is technically a breach of said agreement, right?"
 
"We have not lied to you. As has been agreed, we have allowed you to parley with us. You are not just talking to any cell member. You are talking to one of its leaders, need I remind you, Watcher." The voice on the other end of the COMP/CON was a complete dick. Logan and I had been listening to him for the better part of the hour, parsing through rhetoric and fancy words.
 
"And we've cracked open a prison for you, gave you arms, tech. Took steps to flush out moles for you. Hell, we even have a lance on their way to you now," he countered. "So why in the hell is the Resistance stonewalling us, Heron? All we need are locations, nothing more."
 
Heron was the name this particular cell leader gave to himself. He was arrogant, overly dramatic with his speech, and we had the distinct impression the man was a noble given the way he talked to us.
 
"Your men's… propensity for hyper lethal tactics aside," he explained. "New Oslo is becoming a powder keg. You are a lit fuse. Shrike, Eagle and I are in agreement, any form of action or escalation against the local government now will run the risk of the Sword of Light coming down on our heads! We cannot fight against that."
 
"Albany is just a single city–"
 
"Do you realize what it looks like to the rest of the Rasalhague District when they see the capital city of one of its planets is put on martial law?" Heron warned. "My new friend, that's blood in the water!"
 
"So you accelerate the process!" Logan growled. "We both know you're communicating with each other, let the other planets chum up the waters! Sedition in the district is only one casual mass killing away, anyways."
 
"Or realize you're the only bleeding fish in that same water," he countered. "I cannot, in good conscience, give you what you want. Not now."
 
"...What more do we have to give you before we start going through you?"
"Time, my friend," Heron answered easily, completely deflecting the threat. The worst part was, he was right. "I must caution temperance. Restraint, for all our sakes. You may have brought with you enough metal to buy us all out, but it will be all worthless if you won't allow us to digest what you've given us. We have no proper MechWarriors with which to pilot the lance, we have no men experienced enough with soldiering to use your equipment–and don't even think about using those men you've rescued. They have no choice but to recover, if they even want to join in the first place.
 
"The information we need is time sensitive."
 
We could practically hear him waving a hand in the air dismissively. "These orphans forced to fight, while heinous, is not a pressing matter. Academies in Luthien have been treating children for far worse and for far longer than any of us have been alive. They can stand to wait for a little longer while the heat dies down."
Logan laughed, dumbfounded by the situation. "You can't just sideline us like we're fucking children refusing to go to bed."
 
"Oh, I know we can't," Heron said, laughing as well. "But the people will. You may have given the cause victories, but we are losing in the hearts and minds. News broadcasts have branded us as terrorists–"
 
"What else is new?"
 
"–and have done their utmost to blame your recent actions against the Combine as our doing. Someone high up in the chain has been spooked, and Albany City is reeling from something happening behind the scenes…"
 
Heron paused, ending the sentence as if he was musing on something. I recognized it as him fishing, maybe even expecting Logan to interject or outright confess the raid on Verja, which had most likely been why Albany City had a gun to its head now. Whatever the case, our silence was enough.
 
"...Which is not ideal," he eventually said. "For now, allow us to do our part to shift all this resentment right over to our enemy instead. Which, as you well know, requires time."
"Politics," Logan spat snidely instead. "You're benching us because of politics."
 
"My friend, I will not deny the scalpel sharp efficacy of your group," Heron said, trying to commiserate. To his credit, he at least sounded genuine. "But your cooperation is what we require. Our position is at its strongest now, thanks to your valued work. We simply need time to consolidate. Rearm and reload, as some of you in the barracks might say. The people you've rescued need time to recover. No fighting, not just yet. That is all we ask."
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===A name that expresses what we are===
"Well, you can't say I didn't try, Dav," Logan said, in between chewing.
 
The mess hall was loud, benches filled with kids exhausted and starving from the day's wargames and drills. Logan and I were sitting by ourselves as we ate. We were enjoying today's lunch, which were sandwiches of soft brown bread with generous slices of cheese and cured meats, along with a heaping bowl of leafy greens and tomatoes. Apparently, crushed printer loaf had been incorporated into the dough. I wasn't at all surprised, but I couldn't even taste the difference.
 
"Still, isn't there something we can do?" I asked, chewing my own food.
"This is a test to see how much we're willing to dance to their tune, so not a whole lot," Logan said, "Not without pissing everybody off, or putting everyone on the planet in front of a firing squad. Albany City was a warning, Dav. One wrong move, and we're all dead."
 
I sighed. "So now what? We can't exactly believe them at their word now that they've shown they can just back out of the deal, right?"
 
Logan swallowed the last piece of his food. "It's only a few months, Dav. And besides, Heron's legit. As far as spies go, at least."
 
I stopped eating, scowling at him. "It pisses me off that you're so relaxed about this. What if they're leading us on?"
 
He just rolled his eyes. "Believe me, they are," he began. "Trust doesn't equate in this little agreement we have. They're not stupid and they'd be speculating, but they won't be upfront about it. They'll take whatever help they can get. As far they think they know, we're house backed and our goals align for now. We just need to keep our mouths shut, and they'll make up the answers on our behalf. That gives us a few excuses."
 
"And if they investigate those RECYCLE facilities themselves?" I asked. It was my last worry. "Steal them right from under us now that they know what we're looking for?"
 
Logan gave me a rictus grin. "Then we'll thank them for doing our job for us before we go and steal them right back."
 
In other words, we'd pry those kids out of their dead hands, if it ever had to come to that.
"Fine," I said, finally mollified. "So we're taking a break…"
 
We soon discussed the goings-on in the base, a much more welcome levity to my day. Being told to lie low was not an excuse to be complacent. With a whole new batch of members to join Logan's fireteams, everyone who had been out in the field were assigned their own little squad of kids to train and hone as they saw fit. I was no exception.
 
Of the fifty-seven kids we had rescued, forty-five of them had decided to fight, thanks to Jon. Me and him got along fine, and while he wasn't as much of a mother hen as I was with my kids, he knew how to push his the right way, knew how to lead them and where their limits were. He was a natural drill sergeant.
So when Logan told him how nine whole fireteams were more than enough for now, and that we needed someone like him in base instead, we got a bit nervous he'd say no.
 
"He admits he hates me for it," he said, "but he agreed, on the condition that he still got to pilot a 'Mech."
 
"What was your response?" I asked.
 
Logan looked at me like I'd just grown a new head. "Why would I deny a man his giant robots?"
 
I just laughed. "Point, Logan," I said, "What did he even choose? You must have shown him the line-up in sim-space."
 
"Genghis," he answered, smiling grimly. "The big one."
I whistled softly. "Not a subtle 'Mech. It was probably a good idea to bench him then."
 
He just snorted. "Please, do you realize what Emil's team has for 'subtle'? What the twins have? Trident's practically all riding assault 'Mechs."
 
"We'll need the big guns someday, Logan. When we finally get to go all out."
 
"Yeah well, heaven help the poor bastards who have to siege whatever hole Trident decides to dig themselves into."
 
"Heaven help them all when all the fireteams get properly formed and into the field."
 
Logan groaned. "Don't remind me. I still need to come up with names for all the new fireteams."
 
"What is Batch-2's name, anyways?" I asked. Batch-1 was named after anything that had to do with piercing. We were the first ever combat ready force that Logan had formed. The tip of the spear. "Have you decided?"
 
"Swords," he answered. "Fireteams Katana, Gladius, Saber, Montante, and Estoc. I haven't named the third batch. Maybe daggers."
"Or shields," I added. "We could always use a Big Sal on the field."
"Hah! You'd have been a good fit riding a Saladin. You always were a worrywart when it came to the kids, Dav."
 
"I still am, Logan. Now I'm just a little less scared," I said. I admit it, when I first agreed to be a soldier for him, I had my doubts. But this place we'd built for ourselves, our home. No longer did we have to fear for that chain around our necks. We had grown, all of us, in these couple of months since we had freed ourselves. I wonder what was a couple more months training and keeping ourselves sharpened going to do?
 
"But speaking of names, Logan," I continued. "We're becoming more and more like a proper military unit. Those people out there are going to be looking for one. Might as well name ourselves now while we still can. Hell, I've heard plenty of people already asking who we are, and I've had to keep my mouth shut."
 
"I know," he said, his eyes looking up at the ceiling. "I've always envisioned us to be something more than just a merc outfit with some neat toys. We were invisible all our lives, Dav. And now we have people who think we're a bunch of scary spec ops hiding in the shadows. They think there's something big in the dark, when in actuality it's just a bunch of kids going right up at them with a shiv in their hands."
 
He looked at me then, a smile on his face once more. "Let's keep at it with the cloak and daggers. That's where we're good at."
"You have a name finally?" I asked.
"Mirrorsmoke."
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*; Note from the Author : HE SAID IT. HE SAID THE THING. It just occurred to me as I posted the previous chapter. It was posted on the day I posted the prologue last year (2023), and I couldn't help but be proud of myself for writing as much as I can for a whole year. Thanks to all you readers finding some enjoyment out of what I made. You've made it all worth it.With arc 2 done comes a time skip, and a new set of problems where the kids will be out of their element, and out of the shadows.
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Chapter 17