WP3025 Chpt 18

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==Chapter 18 - Winged Praxis (Battletech 3015 CYOA)==
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===Assessing damage and strategizing===
Dropship Siduri, Zenith Point 
Nullarbor Independent System
Free Worlds League
23rd February, 3015
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Captain Sofiya Merlune floated into the conference room, reading off a clipboard even as she caught a stanchion with her toe, redirecting her to the nominal head of the table. "Right, let's get this started."
 
The rest of the room turned its attention to her. It wasn't possible to stand up in zero gravity. On the other hand, we'd never have all fit in comfortably with chairs. The room was packed with the majority of Siduri's department heads, representatives from both mercenary units, Lien, wearing her doctor hat, and Marc Thorklein, master of the Wiglaf.
 
Marc probably counted for two or three occupants all by himself, a massive bear of a man who wore his long chestnut hair and beard in elaborate braids. I would have said he looked like a Viking, but we were on the wrong side of the Sphere, and the epicanthic folds around his eyes kept tripping my old-world sensibilities up. Right now, he was looking grim.
 
Captain Merlune turned to him. "I hear we have a report on Hrothgar?"
 
He nodded, sending waves through his braids. Reaching up, he gathered together his beard and held it in place. "We do. It looks like she can be salvaged. The damage to the engines isn't severe, just frightening looking."
"A bit more than that," cut in Siduri's chief engineer, a buzz-cut woman covered in grease stains who looked like she'd rather be working on the problems rather than talking about it. "The plant will run, but there's no fixing that shielding without a proper stop at a yard. Engineering's going to be hot, thermal and rads, and I wouldn't call the lower cargo bay safe either. She's going to have to be flown from the bridge on automatics, and I wouldn't care to do that. And that doesn't even get into if the repairs will hold on reentry."
 
Marc sighed. "She's right, but that's not the worst part. We have a final survivor count." He paused to collect himself. "Four of my people made it. All gunners. Between depress, rads, and injuries during the attack, we're sure that the other sixteen didn't survive."
 
The room sucked in a breath. Hrothgar hadn't looked that bad, and had made it to the Jumpship well enough. "What's the breakdown?" asked Cliffhanger as she floated at my side.
 
"We've got twelve bodies," he said. "Rads got three, battle wounds four. Dell," by which he meant Hrothgar's captain, "bled out following docking. The others sucked vacuum."
 
The room shared a collective shudder. We all knew the dangers of space, though no one liked to think of it.
 
"That leaves four." said the entertainment director.
 
"Six," corrected Marc. "We ran a bit heavy. But we went over every centimeter of that ship. They got spaced." Left unsaid was that even wearing a pressure suit, on the other side of a jump their chances were almost as poor as if they had gone Dutchman naked. It would be cruel to hope.
 
"There were some spaces we couldn't check," pointed out the engineer. "But if they were there, the rads cooked them."
 
Marc gave a curt nod. "Or that," he said tightly.
 
Captain Merlune looked at her clipboard. "Dalton's not too far from here. If you make for there, you might be able to get a proper repair job. They may not make the Mule, but Nimakachi does build dropships, and it's an orbital yard. No need to make a reentry."
 
"Yeah," he said, "I was planning to send her there. Gonna need to split off some of Wiglaf's crew to do it, and reseal the cabins, but that was the plan. Gods willing, they won't run into any more trouble on the way."
 
"You're not following with them?" I asked.
 
"Naw, I'm still under contract," he said. "Wiglaf's still capable of making the run, so I still got obligation to the Landynski Syndicate. Speaking of," he turned to Candy, who was filling in for Vixen as she lay sedated in a med bed. "I'm guessing you're gonna tell me Crossbones can't continue on."
 
Candy looked uncomfortable, nearly squirming in midair. "We've suffered fifty percent fighter losses, and Queen Anne has been roughed up…" he started.
 
Marc barked a painful laugh. "By Tyr, did you think I was criticizing? No, you held up your end and then some, and you quote me on that to the MRB. If your losses are too high, you're released with full pay, just like it says in black and white."
 
Candy nodded, looking uncomfortable. "They're bad," he said, shortly. "I apologize, Mister Thorklein."
 
Captain Merlune tapped her clipboard. "What about the force you ran into?"
 
Candy pointed to the bandage around his head. "I'm afraid I don't remember it so well. Took a knock during the fight. Part of why I'm still here."
 
"We took a look over what battleROMs were recovered," I said. "It appeared to be a pair of air lances of Slayers and Lightnings. Comms records have them claiming to be there to secure and defend Vikindu for the League." I paused for a moment. "Their markings weren't anything that I recognize, and they were claiming that the dropships were removing vital military resources from the system."
 
Marc scoffed. "I know you soldiers love your coffee, but that's as ridiculous as calling me small."
 
"Es verdad." I said with a nod. "Gut feeling, I think either an ambitious noble or a nearby planet is making a play for Vikindu while everything is a big bowl of chaos with Anton's revolt. Lots of C-bills in controlling one of the biggest sources of coffee in the Sphere." I turned to Cliffhanger. "Concur?"
 
She nodded. "While I don't know that I share the Colonel's level of confidence, it would make sense. We simply lack data to make an accurate prediction." She looked down at her noteputer. "Assuming that it is an operation to secure Vikindu, that would actually be good news for us, as they would be unlikely to follow the jump. If they are a pirate group, they're also unlikely to go out-system. Vikindu is likely to have much more profitable commerce for them to raid.
 
The room seemed to relax.
 
"On the other hand," said Cliffhanger, "if we're looking at a more ambitious expansion, they could indeed come out this way. And if one person had this idea, it's likely more will as well. We should maintain an alert until we leave the League at the least."
 
That got quite the rustle of discomfort around the room. The Captain looked at me. "Colonel Zalman, do you think your company can defend us from this sort of threat?"
 
"Can?" I asked. "Yes. But I can't guarantee it. If we're talking a air lance of Lightnings and a air lance of Slayers, it'd be tricky. They've got the same thrust curves as we do, but the Slayers have longer legs, and the Lightnings are brutal up close. We'd also be tied down to Siduri, so our range advantage with the Stingray would be less useful. And two to one odds is never what you want to be taking. On the other hand, our guns can punch that armor pretty hard." I spread my hands. "My pilots are good, and we've got good spaceframes. I think we can absolutely make opportunists think twice, and we'll savage anyone who pushes it, but at the end of the day, we're a lance. If someone has the spaceframes and the determination, they'll push past whoever you care to name." I let a grim smile cross my face. "On the other hand, Siduri's real worth would come from ransoming the passengers, and there's no way someone on board wouldn't hire some mercenaries for vengeance against their former captors."
 
"Bankhead Lines would," said the Siduri's purser. "It's standard operating procedure."
 
"There you go then," I said. "We're a risky target before and after, and difficult to get the profit out of. That puts us way down on the list for smart pirates."
 
The captain frowned but moved on. "What about the casualties?"
 
Lien checked her pad. "I believe that all patients are stable, though I must note that I cannot guarantee that they will remain that way without the high quality of care Siduri can provide." She made a self-deprecating gesture. "I was judged the doctor most superfluous to care, hence my presence, as opposed to your ship's surgeon."
 
The Canopians nodded as if it was expected. The purser turned to her captain. "That doesn't bode well for our schedule if we need to stay for longer to keep the patients under our care."
 
"So we're getting quite a few complaints from the passengers." said the entertainment director. "The novelty of zero-G has well and truly worn off for them, and we're getting cases of dropsickness. I've reduced rates for zero-G services, but that's not going to keep them happy for long."
 
"Bottom line?" asked the Captain.
 
"We can stay a day, maybe two, before the line is going to start asking serious questions about our commitment to customer service and profitability. And we probably want to fire up the torch as soon as we can, even if we're flying back and forth," said the purser, getting nods from the entertainment director, the head chef, and various support staff.
 
The captain turned to Lien. "Will that be…" she trailed off as Lien shook her head. "I see. Thank you, Dr. Du. Ladies, we'll be taking a recess. I want you all to think about how we can best meet this challenge. Medical, hospitality, security, profitability. We'll reconvene in a few hours."
 
We all nodded. I turned to Cliffhanger as people started to float out. "Go get Phillipa for me. I think we might need her." She nodded and arrowed her way through the scrum at the door with the grace of a swan. I turned to the still concussed Candy. "Hey Candy, I want to run something by you…"
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===Chit Chat in the Fighter Bay===
Dropship Queen Anne, Zenith Point
Cirebon Independent System, Free Worlds League
24th February, 3015
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The Queen Anne's fighter bay was a sight. I could tell that Vixen's techs had done a top-notch job in the past, and of course there was some of the grunge that inevitably accumulated in machine shops. It had been as good a flight deck as you could expect in the FWLM.
 
But nothing dealt with being subjected to heavy autocannon fire and ended up looking its best. Despite the patches, I could see entrance holes of at least two different calibers. The larger ones were at least twenty centimeters wide, while the more numerous ones looked to be perhaps four centimeters. I didn't have nearly the necessary knowledge of ballistics to judge the mess blast, frag, and sprawling had made of the inside of the ship.
The bays in the best shape, up by the nose, held Vixen's Cheetah and Candy's Sabre. The only other fighter Crossbones had left was a shrapnel peppered Centurion. I looked away from the astech who was just now getting to the grim task of sponging out the cockpit. Apparently, the pilot had been caught by surprise and was cut down by one of the Lightning's strikes that punched through Queen Anne's armor.
 
"Behold the glory, Duster." said Vixen, who was swathed in bandages, and rather annoyed that the medtechs had sedated her the day before. She wore her hat pinned to her hair, but was missing her pistol and sword belt. She had a worn, drawn look on her face. "Three fighters, two pilots, and a pounded dropper."
 
I brought myself to a stop with a grab loop. "I hear the engine damage is better than it looked. Mostly telltales tripping rather than destroyed equipment."
 
She nodded. "Thank God, yeah. That was one piece of good news. Of course." she gestured to the ruin of her squadron's home. "In context, I'm not sure how much it means."
 
"That bad?"
 
"Lost my accountant in all this," she said with a grimace, "So I'm not sure exactly how much it's going to be, but it's going to be expensive. And I've got no idea what loans are looking like these days. Still got the dream, but Crossbones might be," the words caught in her throat. "Crossbones might be dead."
 
"That's what I wanted to talk to you about," I said. "Remember when you asked me why I was giving away information on a cadre job in Canopus space?"
 
"Yeah, back at Aitutaki. What of it?"
 
I tapped my chest. "I wasn't worried about you stealing the contract from us because I'm the employer."
 
"What?"
 
"Long story short, I recently came into an obscene amount of money and military materiel. I'm going down to Canopus to stand up the unit, and I want a solid air wing. That means getting experienced pilots on board, and it means setting up a training track to get con air pilots or similar up to the standards of torch jockeys. I was planning to offer you the job there if and when you did show up, once I looked like more than a guy who had a air lance to his name." I shrugged. "As it is, I'd rather you not get screwed by a bank, or a criminal syndicate masquerading as a bank."
 
"You want to hire," she gestured to the state of her unit again, "this mess?"
 
"Hire, buy out, subcontract, something," I said. "Yes. We'll need to talk to my lawyer to see what works best for maintaining best reputation with the MRB and for our current contract, along with what you'll accept." I shrugged. "At the end of the day, I'd like to fold you in to the main unit, and while that would mean losing independent command, I can guarantee a squadron command slot for you. You can keep your traditions alive, and you can keep up the mercenary life. You can keep flying and leading."
 
A rictus of pain contorted her face. "I can't help but think this is too good to be true. Like I'm thanking a vulture for giving me company as I lay dying of thirst."
 
"Hey," I said, joking, "I've got a full head of hair. And this is too good to be true. I'm benefiting quite a bit from this, and you'll have to be under a twenty-year old colonel who wasn't being groomed for command, is entirely too impressed with himself, and worst of all, isn't even an ace yet."
 
She let out a chuckle. "Okay, that's fair. Let me talk with what's left of my people. Can't speak for them, you understand."
 
I smiled. "Surely do. I'll clear our so you can discuss in peace." I turned to leave.
 
"One more thing." she said.
 
"What is it?"
 
"What's the name of this unit you're putting together?"
 
"You know," I said, "I really don't know yet. Gideon's Giants, Zalman's Zerkers?" I shrugged. "Duster's Destroyers? Haven't come across something that feels right yet. Taking suggestions, though." I kicked off a structural brace and floated away.
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===Relics of a lost Age===
Dropship Queen Anne, Nadir Point
Mercantile Facilitators of Yanchep, Free Worlds League
26th February, 3015
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"Crossbones Lance, launch!" I called out as soon as the effects of the jump cleared.
 
I felt the deck shudder beneath me as the Cheetah and Centurion leapt out into the void, piloted by Vixen and Socks. I studied the sensor plot as they set up a BARCAP. Everything looked clear.
 
It had taken some finagling to make everything work out, but I had set up a similar deal with Crossbones Squadron as I had with TASS, with Crossbones subcontracting under TASS on the Siduri security contract. We'd also picked up the security contract for Wiglaf, which had been headed to Canopus anyway. That did pick up the expense of having to pay for two more priority docking collars on each jump, but Marc had figured out a way to subsidize that.
As the prime coffee on Hrothgar was considered lost by contract, along with the other exotic foodstuffs it was carrying from Vikindu, as much of the first-grade material as possible was loaded onto Siduri and Queen Anne both for Siduri's passengers' use and to offset the cost of grabbing the drop collars. The rest would hopefully pay for repairs when they made it to Dalton. It also meant that the wounded of Queen Anne and Hrothgar could continue to benefit from Canopian medicine.
 
Overall, it meant that we were now a small convoy, and my command had increased by three fighters, two pilots, and one worked-over dropship and crew. I couldn't really complain, even if the increasing demands left me even less time to enjoy Siduri's amenities.
 
<<"Looks clear, Duster.">> said Vixen through the comm, confirming my observation. <<"Setting up low thrust patrol.">>
 
"Copy, proceed." I replied, moving my attention from the sensor plot to the view out the bridge windows.
 
Yanchep was an odd system. It had an extremely young star, and no planets as of yet, consisting of the star and the protoplanetary disk. Normally, the stellar jets associated with a forming star system would make the jump points a hell of high energy ionized particles, but Yanchep, completely contrary to all models, had only one jet present. While the zenith point was assured death to any ship foolish enough to jump there, the nadir point was as safe as any inhabited system.
It made for a hell of a view, even if you couldn't take in the whole thing at once. I swept my gaze out from the star into the central zone of planet formation, past the soot and frost lines, and out towards the edges of the vast gas cloud.
 
"Makes you feel small, Huh?" asked Candy from the helm station.
 
"Space is good at that," I agreed. "But from a different perspective. We're the universe's way of knowing itself."
 
He grunted. "Guess that makes it our duty to see sights like this."
 
"You could say that, sure," I said. "Kind of makes this a pity."
 
Back during the height of the Star League, Yanchep's odd astronomical property made it the focus of one of the Star League's megaprojects. They had built a Belter style habitat in this system with no planets, a paired set of O'Neill Cylinders, and left them there to study the fascinating system. It was a massive expenditure of resources, the likes of which boggled the mind, and it had been done in the name of scientific advancement. Facts like that were a reminder why part of me saw the Star League as a golden age.
Unfortunately, as with all things, the Succession Wars had taken their toll. One of the cylinders had an environmental collapse, with its carefully planned ecology degenerating into a lifeless desert. Now only used as a source of spare parts for the live cylinder, it was patrolled by system security for scavengers trying to make off with lostech scraps. After all, if someone stole a part the live cylinder needed, it was probable that a spare could never be found.
 
It had happened before, and a whole docking section had to be abandoned.
 
The loss of knowledge had killed the scientific mission as well. While there was a museum of astronomy on the station, no new science was being done. Oh, the occasional astronomer made their way out here, intent on restarting observations, but to date, none of them had understood or been able to access more than a fraction of the systems built into the habitat. And so, the centuries old automatics kept looking and recording for an audience that could not comprehend what they were shown.
 
Instead, the station had found a new purpose, turning to a new life as a hub for space tourism, an exotic marketplace, and a useful recharge spot for a number of trade routes. They clung onto life in this pre-born system, dependent on technology they didn't understand, and hoped nothing would go wrong that couldn't be fixed by raiding the corpse of their twin, leaving them stranded in a dying world. From scientific and engineering marvel to pit stop with a gorgeous view.
 
"It's like the Sphere in miniature." I murmured to myself as we detached from the jumpship and started burning towards the station. I wondered if the station would be saved by the knowledge in the Gray Death core.
 
Then I wondered if the Helm core would ever be found, or if it would be found by Precentor Rachan instead. Had that damn message doomed the Inner Sphere's technological renaissance?
 
A dark mood stole over me as we flew towards the massive finned cylinder.
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*;Notes from the Author : And another one in the can! The unit keeps on growing in its patchwork way.As for the systems introduced in this chapter, Vikindu is, according to canon, the source of half the coffee within 250 light years of Terra, which says to me that it has productive tropics with active vulcanism. Apparently it's a pretty exploitative sort of set-up as well. This also probably means that other tropical fruit and plants can be harvested there as well. I wouldn't be terribly surprised if we found ourselves visiting the planet in this story. Yanchep, on the other hand, is a stub that I've decided to expand on, working off the fact that being on the map means only that there is a inhabited planet OR habitat. The Yanchep Protosystem Observatory, and the giant habitat built to support it are very much the sort of thing that the optimism and resources of the Star League made possible, and certainly not the sort of thing that will forever outlive its builders. For the reader who is perhaps not familiar with an O'Neill cylinder, think the space colonies of the original Gundam as perhaps their most famous visual representation in fiction. The Yanchep cylinders are not so big, but they do provide spin gravity, as well as a managed biosphere.Other notes...Captain Sofiya Merlune is an original character, but she is intended to be related to a certain famous family of spice entrepreneurs. Captain Marc Thorklein is also an original character, and his name is a result of me playing with a reference to classic literature and a classic RPG system that no one has mentioned yetFinally, as you may have picked up, I'm currently brainstorming names for the new unit, and would be happy to hear ideas. There won't be a vote on this one, and we're a ways from the unit being named, but if you've got ideas, I'd love to hear them.
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