WP3025 Chpt 5

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==Chapter 5 - Winged Praxis (Battletech 3015 CYOA)==
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===Message from a Deadman===
Hotel Serena
Darienbad, New Olympia
Marik Commonwealth, Free Worlds League
6th January, 3015
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"Ohhhhhhh, that was more than one drink," I moaned. Checking around the room, I was first disappointed that I was still on New Olympia, and not waking up from a particularly vivid dream at home. But hey, that was a familiar annoyance at this point, and one I was going to eventually get over. I hoped, anyway. God, I missed Cerillos…
 
Well, that was either disturbing or hopeful, and I didn't feel up to sorting it out until I had gotten a grip on my hangover at least. Which didn't feel fair, either, come to think of it. Weren't twenty-year-olds supposed to be less affected by these? I swallowed a couple of pills I had staged for this purpose and followed it with some water.
 
In better news, I was alone in my room. I was distinctly uncomfortable with the concept of anyone I didn't trust implicitly having access to my briefcase full of mysterious information. A drunken pickup could be a real danger. That was probably being paranoid, but ROM was out there, and Ephraim Adelman's instructions implied that some of the information was sensitive. Practically screamed it, in my opinion, but what did I know about tradecraft?
 
Maybe I could quiz the SAFE agent who was almost certain to make a check-in on me as a potential disgruntled military academy wash-out who had beef with a Marik loyalist noble house. They were considered almost memetically bad at their job in the fan community I had come from. But that wasn't fair. For internal security, they had a much better track record, and that was the sort of case I'd fall under, more's the pity.
 
I glanced at the suite's RHE player. I had privacy, sure, but I doubted the security of a hotel's equipment. A SAFE plant could insert a tap that dubbed off a copy easily enough, or just a microphone to capture the audio played. There was a part of me that wanted to actually feel like I was in the room with my father I had never known. But it wasn't safe. I resolved to myself that I would get my own portable set-up if at all possible. It'd probably be expensive, but meh. That was my old calibration talking.
 
I popped the briefcase and pulled out the videopad, stripping away the seals for the first time. As I had expected, there was already a card loaded. I powered the videopad on and nearly pressed play, before remembering the danger of microphones, and retrieving a beat-up pair of headphones. Now set, I hit the button.
 
He didn't look anything like my dad. That was the first thought that crossed my mind. I wasn't conflicted on it. My local self could not believe that this frail shell of a man had donated half of his genes. My other self couldn't see any of the warm man who had always been there for me, through good times and bad, providing an example and guidance, and what I all too often felt was an impossible bar to live up to.
 
Neither of my reactions was fair. Whatever sort of man he had been, the frail, burnt, and decaying shell that lay on the sickbay bed was not how he had appeared, or even how he probably would have wished to appear. Radiation sickness was a hell of a thing.
 
I found myself staring at just how milky and bloodshot his eyes were. Had they been blue before? I thought so, but couldn't tell. Again, I looked over at the RHE system, wanting to be able to examine just what sort of man he was at the end. See what clues I could find about who he was before ionizing radiation had corroded him. His hair looked brittle, and had fallen out in patches, and bruising purpled splotches of his skin. Other areas peeled like an awful case of sunburn, and his flesh pooled in the hollows of his skeleton. My eyes tried to skirt away from the ulcerations.
 
Suddenly, I realized that he was talking, and I hadn't taken in a word of what he said. Taking a deep breath to center myself, I rewound the card. Doing my best to focus on his expression, I hit play again.
 
<<"My son. If you are hearing this, then I am already dead.">> said the soon-to-be cadaver that held my father in it. He managed a laugh. <<"But of course, you already know that. I know you will have inherited your mother's quick mind, and she won't let you get off without a proper education. And this is to be delivered as part of my will…">> he trailed off, then came back to focus on the camera. 
 
<<"I feel selfish, calling you that. My son. I've never been there for you. Never been a part of your life. I've missed every ritual, every triumph, every pitfall. My input on your life was only at the start. Setting the ball rolling.">> A coughing fit interrupted him. <<"Even now, I wonder if I should have been braver, ran away with Ariel and you. Ignored the politics and focused on the life I had helped to create. I probably wouldn't have ended up here, anyway.">> There was a long pause.
 
When he started speaking again, he wasn't looking at the camera. <<"I hope you'll forgive me. I don't have the right to ask for that, but I hope you will anyway. Not for my sake, but for your own. One of the lessons I didn't get to pass on is how much you can gain from forgiving someone. Not carrying that weight, the hate, the hurt…">> He looked back to the camera. <<"It's better for you. And it can open new paths and opportunities…">> He shook his head. <<"I'm rambling, and it's awfully late to try being the wise dad now. I'll trust in what Ariel taught you.">>
 
<<"I'm sure she told you about why I was never there. I'm not sure even she knew just how angry I was when it happened. I had been ready to marry for love, to embark on the next great adventure…and some high and mighty woman had decided that I was the thing that would gain her power. And suddenly, nothing I had planned mattered. Fighting back could have caused a diplomatic incident, and while it has its flaws, I do love my homeland. Even so, I considered killing Najwa.">> His eyes lowered, and he worked his hands together, wincing. <<"I considered it a great many times.">>
 
<<"I didn't, of course, but I was so angry then that I was determined that her family would get nothing from me. So, I set up your inheritance. I must say, I never expected it to be quite so big.">> The flesh at the corner of his mouth split as he smiled. <<"I had some success before, but the Landynski Syndicate's resources allowed me to do so much more. I gloated about that, once, you know. To Najwa. That her family's resources were building your fortune.">>
 
<<"I'll never forget what she said. 'Of course. He's your son.' I think that's when I started viewing her differently. She's never apologized for forcing me to marry her, but she's never tried to make me stop loving you. Or at least the idea of you.">> He paused again. <<"Sorry. I think that may have been the moment where I realized that I might be able to come to love her. I don't know if that's something you want to hear. It may disgust you. But I think I needed to say it, and I'm already being selfish in this message.">> Again, he broke off into a coughing fit.
<<"Time keeps slipping,">> he mused. <<"I was able to cross reference some data I came across with some rumors I had run down while I was still a MIM analyst. It was enough to take a look, so I went out on the Sagan for a little prospecting. Najwa came with. She's never come along on a successful run before, almost my own personal bad luck charm. And Zara as well.">> He sighed. "I regret you'll never have the chance to meet them.">>
 
<<"Zara is Najwa's firstborn. I was surprised by how well we ended up getting on. How interested she was in lostech hunting. We never made anything formally of it, but she was my apprentice for all that. And we had hit the motherlode this time. A jumpship with four military spheroids hanging off it! Najwa was already ribbing me about how I was going to have start calling her a good-luck charm after this. We were elated.">> He stilled. I wondered for a moment if I had accidentally paused the playback.
<<"And we got stupid. Najwa, Zara, and I all suited up for the initial exploration. We found bodies, of course. No uniforms I recognized. We started looking over the damage the jumper had taken, brought over an engineering team to see about fixing it up, got the reactor online…">>
 
<<"The next thing he said was so quiet that I played and replayed it again and again, bumping up the volume each time. Eventually between that and watching his lips, I got it. Killed ourselves.">>
I hurriedly ran the volume down as he went on, tears running down his face. <<"I'm pretty sure it was a deliberate trap. The whole crew on board took a minimum of seven grays. We shut it back down, but you'll need to do some decontamination before you take possession. Once we realized that we were dead, we took the time to check for other traps. I think we got them all, but make sure to triple-check.">> He closed his eyes. <<"Please triple-check.">>
Opening his eyes again, he drew in a shuddering breath. <<"I'm sorry, I wasn't a military analyst. I don't know the specifics of what is in the DropShips, or the cargo containers attached to the other docking collars. All I know is that there were mechs, tanks, fighters, you name it." He looked to the side. "I had no idea what we would do with it. We could have sold the droppers and their contents to the MAF, kept the jumper for the syndicate. Najwa pointed out that since it had been found under the auspices of Adelman Prospecting, technically, that made it yours. She hoped that you would find comfort and help in your family that you never knew if they did not fight over it. Zara agreed. You were the only person who stood to inherit with any military training, after all…" again, he trailed off, recognition spreading over his face. "You know, that may have been the apology I wished for all these years.">> Blood wept from his smile.
<<"But I'm glad for another reason.">> he said, face growing hard. <<"Those rumors I talked about, you'll find in my files. There's a great injustice going on all too close to the Magistracy, and I think that it's related to the source of this jumpship. One of the things that I loved…still love, about your mother is her sense of justice. I pray it lives on in you. I hope you'll use this to put things right. To make things better. Remember, we were all…">>
<<"…slaves of Pharoh in Egypt.">> I echoed him, words catching in my throat.
<<"All of us,">> he said. <<"Not just Jews. You'll make me proud. I know you will. I already am. I hope this gives you the tools to do more. My files have all the leads I was never able to run down, political briefs, astrography, my diaries, etc. The money is power coupons, and you have a lot now. And the metal…well, you know that better than I do.">> He sighed. <<"It still seems like so little. I wish I had been able to hold you in my arms just once. To see the man you've become with my own eyes. I would trade anything for that chance. But that path is forever gone. Please know that I love you with all my heart. And if you ever feel that you are not doing enough, remember what saving one life means. I love you. I'm proud of you. I'm so sorry.">>
And the video screen went to black.
I sat there for a long while. 
Then I played it again.
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===Shopping and Deciding===
Periphas Mall
Darienbad, New Olympia
Marik Commonwealth, Free Worlds League
6th January, 3015
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Retail therapy, I decided, was overrated. It was a distraction at best, and there was a part of me that wanted to sneer at the people who chattered around me without a care in the world, while last October they had declared themselves neutral and hung us out to dry.
But that wasn't fair. They weren't soldiers, and they sure as hell weren't the gutless Prince d'Andre. Besides, I did need to get some clothes and other sundries. And it was an excuse to see Terri.
 
"So, you're leaving tomorrow?" she asked with a frown, putting down her fork.
 
I nodded, picking at my gyro. "The Siduri lifts tomorrow. It's the fastest way to get to Canopus and the ships."
 
She raised an eyebrow at that. "Oh? Did you learn more about them?"
 
 "A little," I admitted. "I watched one of my father's messages this morning. He didn't know enough to classify them, but there were four spheroids, and some extra cargo containers attached to other docking collars."
 
Terri's mouth formed an 'o'. "Gid, that's got to be…"
 
"I know," I said. "I mostly didn't fall out of bed realizing that because I was so wrapped up in dealing with his message." I shuddered. "I don't know what I expected. Not this, anyway."
 
"Was it bad?" she asked, knowing full well it must have been.
 
"Acute radiation syndrome. Booby trap. Even Canopian doctors can only do so much with that. He said at least seven grays. I think it was higher for him. He looked like something out of a horror vid." Except that wasn't true. Horror vids had that subconscious awareness that what you were seeing was an artifice, a heightened version of reality. My father's condition had been real.
 
"I'm sorry for your loss." she said, placing her hand on mine.
 
I shivered. "Anyway, he mentioned tanks, mechs, and fighters. It's more than a Leopard, that's for sure."
 
"It pretty much had to be," she said. "I think you knew that."
 
I looked to the side. "I suspected."
 
"So, what are you going to do for personnel?" she asked. 
 
"I sent off some HPG messages back home. Informed the normal message centers that a Southwestern CO is starting up a combined arms mercenary unit. Hired soldiers and support staff will have reasonable travel expenses paid." I shrugged. "Mercenaries and soldiers have always been a Trinity export. It'll give me a loyal cadre, if nothing else."
 
"Are you sure about that?" she asked.
 
"Sure as shooting. This is just one of those Southwestern things. Norteños, Indios, Cowboys, Jews, Sierra, Galisteo, Cerillos, we'll bicker and argue, sometimes fight at the drop of a hat. But you see, you've got your Trinity, and you've got your whole rest of creation. When the hammer comes down, there's no distinction `tween us, gringa."
 
She frowned a bit. "I guess. So, that'll get you…"
 
"Mech jocks, techs, scouts, infantry. Maybe vehicle crews, depending. Everyone's going to want a mech, but once they're out there, they'll want to be part of it."
 
Terri wrapped her fingers around my hand. "I didn't hear anything about pilots."
 
"No," I said. "Trinity doesn't breed as many of those. There might be some atmospheric or VTOL drivers that I can knock into shape, but ASF pilots are thin on the ground back home."
 
"Are you going to ask me?" Her voice was quiet, but I could feel the tension in her fingers.
 
I squeezed back. "I can't," I said, voice nearly breaking. "You've done so much for me. I don't have the right to be so selfish."
 
"Gid…"
 
"No, Terri, listen. You've got a bright future ahead of you. I want my wingthing there with me. You've been with me pretty much every step of this craziness, and I'd bet that I'd be doing even worse if that wasn't the case. I've got no real idea what I'm going to be stepping into once I get there, and yeah, having someone I trust would be invaluable." I shook my head. "But I can't ask you to give up all of what you have going for you because I'm selfish. I'll never say no, but ask? Ay dios, no."
 
She sucked in a breath and held it. "So, it's my choice." she said.
 
"Has to be." I murmured
 
"Okay." She squeezed my hand again, gently. "I know what I'm going to do."
 
When she didn't say anything more, I offered up a smile. "Feel like telling me?"
 
She shook her head. "Nope. Consider it punishment for not asking for help when you need it."
 
"Ouch," I said, miming a hit to the chest. "Mi corazon."
 
"You know I'll help you," she said. "You just don't get to know how. Now let's get going. You still need a proper wardrobe and accessories." She stood.
 
I abandoned the picked over gyro. "And a gun. Every mercenary worth their salt has a side arm."
 
"Silly man, what did you think I meant by accessories?" she laughed with a twinkle in her eye. "Now go. I'll catch up. I've got some calls to make." She pulled out her communicator as I ambled off to find a gun store.
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*;Notes from the Author : Well, this will probably be our last chapter on New Olympia. I suppose it's about time. I'll admit, I had some moments writing this chapter where the characters started to make me aware that they had opinions about the goings-on. I've normally considered that a good sign. Hopefully it comes through for you, dear reader
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