WP3025 Chpt 38

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==Chapter 38 - Winged Praxis (Battletech 3015 CYOA)==
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===Beating an apology out you!===
Landynski Compound
Salonika (Continent), Canopus IV
Magistracy of Canopus
26th June, 3015
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I had expected for there to be a big to-do with plenty of people when I got back. I had expected to have noble arms thrown around me when I got back to the Landynski Compound. I hadn't expected the first ones to be attached to fifty kilos of Contessa.
 
More fool me.
 
Sahar did her best to break the ribs the bullets had failed to, muttering something in what I presumed was Arabic.
 
I traded nonplussed looks with Bill over Sahar's head, then gave her a hug back. "Hey, I'm okay," I said in a soothing tone. "I had the HHA giving me the VIP treatment."
 
Sahar broke the hug and slugged me in the belly, surprisingly hard. "You won't be if you do that again," she snapped. "What were you thinking?"
 
"I wasn't, mostly," I admitted with a grunt. "Sometimes you just react all stupid-like." The girl swung at me again. I caught her fist. "Hey, quit it. Aren't you supposed to have some sort of decorum or something like that?"
 
"Really," she said, looking up at me, "you're going to lecture me on protocol?"
 
I cracked a grin. "Sure, if it keeps you from hitting me again. You got hard little fists, Contessa." At her hurt look, I dropped the grin. "Really, I'm sorry for worrying you Sahar. I'm not going to try and do that again."
 
The girl's face scrunched up as she took the apology, and the unstated fact that as a mercenary I would be in danger again, even if I didn't make myself a target for a hit squad. "Okay, Uncle Gideon," she finally said. "You're forgiven. Just don't do it again."
 
I opened my mouth to reply, only to let out a yelp as I was yanked to the side before Terri mashed my lips against my teeth with a kiss.
 
"Okay," she said, dragging me towards a door. "I was good and let you get first crack, Contessa. My turn."
 
I didn't resist, waving to the guards and attendants who had gathered to attend my reentrance even as the door closed behind me.
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===Feeling less valued===
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"Whew," I said as I leaned back, sweaty and exhausted. "You'd think you'd missed me."
 
Terri, who was tracing designs in my chest hair, gave my nipple a flick of annoyance. "I'd thought you died, Gid."
 
I didn't respond, sensing her need to say more.
 
"I was just balled up screaming, useless, and then you stand up to save me and get fucking shot!" She grimaced, fingernail pressing into my flesh "And then it's all fine, didn't even get through the armor, but you've cracked your head, and we don't know, and I can't get in to be with you because of that bitch!" Her hand curled into a fist, snatching out a few hairs.
 
Then it was as if all the energy flowed out of her, and she lay down against me, palm against my chest, idly rubbing. "I was so angry," she said, slowly.
 
I brought my hands up and started stroking her spine. "I don't blame you. I'd be murderous if the roles were reversed."
 
Terri pressed her face into my chest. What emerged was neither a laugh nor a sob, but some combination of both. "I was." I felt her indrawn breath against me. "I was just going to kill all of them. Those bastards who did the hit, whoever was behind it, the Magestrix for banning me from the HHA…" Another sob/laugh. "I screamed at Sahar because she wouldn't pressure the HHA against the Magestrix for me. Like it would have done anything." She shook her head, hair brushing against me. "And then I find that Coyote war party…"
 
"You did a good job leading them," I said.
 
Another head shake. "I just gave them official permission and was along for the ride."
 
I smiled down at her. "I doubt they'd say the same." Which was true. A few of the volunteers who were forming my close protection detail had used words like 'angel vengadora' when talking about Terri. Loaded language coming from norteños. "Besides, weren't you the one who was getting the command classes? Sometimes just getting out in front is leadership."
 
"They weren't going to take no for an answer," she admitted.
 
"And who was responsible for coordinating with the local friendlies?" I asked.
 
"Natan," she said.
 
I waited.
 
"And me." she grumbled.
 
"You did great." I said gently.
 
She looked up at me. "I don't feel like it. Vixen was watching over you while I was off beating on people."
 
I shook my head. "Hardly your fault that the HHA was excluding you."
 
She bit her lip. "Yeah but…yeah." She looked away. "I just feel like she's doing more for you."
 
"Diane?" I asked.
 
Terri nodded, but still didn't look at me.
 
"Te amo ,Terri.," I said, on reflex. "When I'm with you, it's the world."
 
"I know. But…" She shook her head. "She's just better than me."
 
I shook my head in negation. "Terri…"
 
Terri bowled right over me. "She's an experienced mercenary, a wing commander. She fences with you, actually has a chance to use one of those LAMs…"
 
My lips tightened. I knew that Terri's marginal neurohelmet compatibility was a sore spot, and that she wore her hair the way she did to get every bit of connectivity she could. Had she wanted to be a mechwarrior? Was going to LMS a second choice, like it had been for me?
 
"...I just feel like she's replacing me."
 
My arms tightened about her. "No one could replace you," I said, voice suddenly rough. "No one."
 
"Yes, she could." she said.
 
I squeezed her again. "Impossible." I said. "Stop this meshuggeneh talk. You're you, Terri. No one else can be you."
 
She shook her head. "She's being what I want to be." she said.
 
I didn't know what to say. So I continued to hold her. I held her for a long time.
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===Making Impressional Entrance===
Crimson Contemporary Art Museum
Salonika (Continent), Canopus IV
Magistracy of Canopus
27th June, 3015
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"You know," said my half-brother as he stepped off of the Drac-built hoverbike, shouting to be heard over the sounds of the fans spooling down, "Rebin nearly went purple when your girlfriend dragged you out of the welcome home reception."
 
I snorted, twitching my shoulders to adjust the fall of my new armored coat. It was only a bit heavier than the old one, but it still had that new clothes stiffness. "Guess just how much I care about Rebin's opinion at the moment." I said.
 
"You think he was the one behind the attack on you?" asked Joeseph, pulling off his goggles and running his fingers through his windswept hair.
 
I did, but that wasn't polite to say. I shrugged instead. "No clue. But he's hated me since before he knew me, and I'm not so strapped for friends that I need him as one."
 
"Guess not," he said, nodding back up at the museum. "Not when you've got personal meetings with the Magestrix." He looked back at me. "You sure you don't know what this is about?"
 
I shook my head. "Like I told you, the message just said I should bring the stakeholders for Adelman Prospecting along too."
 
He shivered in a way that had nothing to do with the chill breeze. "The hell," he mumbled to himself. He refocused on me. "Guess Esther's inside already?"
 
I nodded. "We've just been waiting for you." I said, giving a signal to my armored guards before turning to walk up the stairs.
 
He chuckled weakly as he followed. "Fashionably late, you know…"
 
I rolled my eyes.
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===Admiring the sculptures===
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Inside, we joined up with Phillipa, Esther, and Cliffhanger before making our way through the empty galleries to where the Magestrix and Colonel Van Dame stood, appreciating an abstract sculpture of some kind.
 
Kyalla turned at our approach and smiled. "Colonel." she said. "So good to see you in good health."
 
I bowed my head. "Thank you, your Grace. I was afforded excellent care, thank you."
 
She turned back to the sculpture. "Think nothing of it. Canopus takes care of its own." She gestured towards the piece. "What do you think?"
 
I bit back my impulse to talk about the neighborhood I had been shot in and how those people were being taken care of. Kyalla was trying. It wasn't helping as far as I could see, but she was trying. Instead, I focused on the swooping lines of glass and metal, on the negative space they framed. "I can't say it's doing much for me," I said after a few moments of contemplation.
 
"Oh?" she asked with an arched eyebrow. "Are you not a fan of sculptural pieces?"
 
I shook my head. "No, Magestrix," I said. "I like sculpture quite a bit." I gestured to the work in front of us. "I appreciate the craft here, and it's aesthetically pleasing, but it's not evoking anything in me." I shrugged. "Not all art is made for me. Nor should it be."
 
It might have been the distortion of their reflections in the polished metal of the sculpture, but the rest of my party seemed horrified by what I had said to the Magestrix.
 
Kyalla smiled. "What about you?" she asked Esther.
 
Esther swallowed her shock at my answer. "Ah." said the seventeen year old. "It reminds me of the ocean, your Grace." She rallied. "The Diamond Straits, especially."
 
"When the winds blow down from the north." murmured Colonel Van Dame.
 
Kyalla favored Esther with a nod. "And what about you?" she asked Phillipa, her gaze passing right over Joeseph.
 
"Fortunes, your Grace," said Phillipa. "Change of fate."
 
"And do you think the Magistracy's fortunes are on the rise?" asked Kyalla.
 
Phillipa pursed her lips. "I think there are great opportunities, your Grace."
 
"How politic, Ms. Kasparova." Kyalla nodded. "But accurate. We are presented with opportunities." She began walking away from the sculpture, the rest of us following.
 
Joeseph lingered a moment. "Rolling hills," he whispered to himself.
 
I pulled my attention back to Kyalla. "...understand that your unit is ready for deployment, Colonel."
 
I nodded with a grimace. "I'd say we've got an initial operational capability, your Grace. If there's a silver lining to what happened at the convent, it proved CMC's ability to respond to the unexpected." I took a pair of protective booties and slipped them on along with the others as we went into a light and color piece. "I can't say we're ready for intense operations yet, but we've got a battalion of Battlemechs, a battalion of infantry, two mixed battalions of vehicles, three squadrons of aerospace fighters, and starlift for the lot looking for a mission."
 
"You don't want more training time?" asked Van Dame.
 
The room we were in filled with soft green light. "There's always time for more training," I said. "But I think we're getting to a point of diminishing returns, and we have to put things to the test eventually." I looked about the room more closely. When we had entered, it was a white ramp to a drop-off capped by a curved wall. As the light changed, strengthening, I looked back to that curved wall, feeling almost drawn into the color there as if being tugged by a string.
 
"You seem to like this one, Colonel," said Kyalla with an air of amusement.
 
I looked away from the light of the curved wall to see Kyalla's amused look. "This one does more for me," I admitted. "It's overwhelming in the best way. Reminds me of space."
 
She cocked her head to the side. "I don't think I've heard that reaction before." She gestured to the colored light all about us. "Seems a bit bright."
 
I shook my head. "No your Grace, it's the whole field effect. The color is infinite, much like space." I pointed to the sharp drop off. "It reminds me of an open airlock, but instead of the black void, it's color and light."
 
"Hmm," mused Kyalla for a moment. "What do you know about Borgan's Rift?" she asked me.
 
Recognition tickled at my mind, but nothing came to me. "It's a Magistracy world…two jumps from here?" I asked.
 
"Just beyond the range of a single jump," confirmed Van Dame. "It has a piracy problem."
 
"We can probably do something about that," I said. "Do we have intel on the band?"
 
The Colonel shook her head. "You misunderstand. It's not a matter of a band raiding them."
 
"Borgan's Rift is held in fief by House Tompkins," said Kyalla as the light shifted to a cool blue. "They have had a piracy problem for decades now. Ever since the Third Succession War started, honestly."
 
My Canopian-born companions all seemed shocked by what she had said, Esther going so far as to gasp quietly. Van Dame smiled tightly at my lack of comprehension. "House Tompkins is Froness, Colonel Zalman."
 
My eyebrows shot up. "Oh," I said. One of the founders' lines was in the doghouse.
 
"Yes," said Kyalla. "Oh." She crossed her arms. "I'll not beat around the bush. House Tompkins has been failing the Magistracy for some time now."
 
My eyes narrowed. "And they're still in charge there?"
 
The Magestrix's smile looked very pleased for some reason. "They are. House Tompkins are closely allied to my House. To the point where we've got a cadet branch with them."
 
I grunted, processing that. "That sounds like it could get messy."
 
"If left alone, yes," she said. "There has been a movement amongst the Durachi advocating for House Tompkins to be removed from their seat, and the fief to be put up for auction, both for revenue generation, and to advance the power of the Durachi."
 
I nodded. Trust the captains of industry to make their play when they saw an opportunity. "Do they have the pull with the Crimson Council to pull that off?"
 
"Not yet. But if things do not change…" Kyalla rolled one slender hand about. "...I may have to take the reformers' side."
 
Which would weaken the Froness and empower the Durachi, along with potentially angering nobles with at least a minor claim to House Centrella…the lights dimmed about us. "What would you like us to do, Magestrix?"
 
The hue shifted to a red. "Why Colonel, I want you to stabilize the situation. Whatever else did you expect?"
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===Discrete Mission Briefing===
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Having left the light and color room, Colonel Van Dame took over briefing me and Cliffhanger, while the Magestrix led the others about the galleries.
 
"Borgan's Rift," she said, showing me on a rugged, if scuffed noteputer, "Is really a pleasant planet. A bit warm and dry maybe."
 
I looked at the information presented. With a hydrosphere of 51 percent and equatorial temperature of 35 degrees C… "I'd say the opposite, myself. Chilly and wet by me. Gravity's a tad light for my tastes too." I read a bit further. "Tech base isn't great, bit of heavy industry…" I clicked my tongue. "Well, they're pretty self sufficient at least. I assume they bring in offworld tech?" I hummed at the colonel's nod. "Can't say I see why they'd have long term pirate problems. Slaving?"
 
She shook her head. "It happens, but no, that's not the root cause."
 
"Is House Tompkins operating an unofficial pirate haven?" asked Kumari.
 
Colonel Van Dame snorted. "Serena Tompkins would find it a challenge to find her ass with both hands, a mirror, a map, and a guide. MIM doesn't think it's likely. We might have a haven or two on Borgan's Rift, but that's due to incompetence, not malice. No, the USILR is a bit deceiving in Borgan's Rift's case." She took the noteputer back from me, and brought up some maps. "Take a look."
 
I whistled. "That's a lot of cities for 200 million people. Big ones too."
 
She nodded. "Now you're getting it. They mostly don't live in them, either. Borgan's Rift made it through the Invasion and Uprisings pretty unscathed. It was even a base for the SLDF post Civil War. But once Kerensky tucked his tail and ran…"
 
"Things didn't go so well," I said. "Let me guess. The economic collapse destabilized the infrastructure, and suddenly there were a bunch of low-population cities filled with tech that might help keep other places running."
 
"Combined with rumors of SLDF kit?" asked the Canopian. "It was almost inevitable."
 
"Was any ever found?" asked Cliffhanger. "SLDF materiel, I mean."
 
The colonel shook her head. "Not to my knowledge. Which makes things worse, really. Without the big find being claimed, the planet still has its siren call. House Tompkins has turned that to their advantage, of course. Prospecting licenses bring in quite a bit of revenue for them, and there's enough urban sprawl to comb through that even if prospectors don't find lostech, there's still dollars to be made."
 
"And the pirates?" I said. "I suppose they decided they didn't want to pay the fees."
 
"So it would seem. The dead cities also make convenient hides for fugitive groups, and House Tompkins have been unable to curb their operations."
 
"Have they tried?" asked Kumari.
 
"Occasionally," said Van Dame. "It rarely goes well. Some local successes, but nothing that really moves the needle. House Tompkins's former Baronessa made a considerable effort back before the turn of the millennium, but the local bands formed a coalition. It cost her life, and her sister has been skittish ever since. To be fair to her, she does provide safety for her subjects, and while they may not have much in the way of luxuries, they do live well enough. It's mostly the prospectors that the pirates prey upon."
 
"That would be a supply of trained and educated people being fed into the grinder. I assume that's the slaving?" I asked, getting a nod. "Do we have an idea of forces on planet?"
 
Van Dame shook her head. "Definite numbers are difficult. MIM estimates less than a battalion of mech forces, broken up into many irregular bands. Probably double that in light vehicles, and certainly quite a bit of infantry, straight leg and mechanized. House Tompkins has a company of mechs at their disposal, along with quite a bit of vehicle strength, including some conventional air forces, but with the exception of the mechs, that's mostly tied down on security." She brought up the intel reports. "Current estimates are that local forces can outmatch any of the pirates individually, but not without unacceptable losses, and if another sizable coalition were to form, House Tompkins would be unable to match them."
 
"I know the Magestrix said she wanted us to stabilize the situation," I said. "But what do you want us to do?" I gestured at the noteputer. "I have no doubt that we can give some pirates a very bad day, but the problem here isn't one that goes away by shooting at it. Sure, we could garrison and see about making Borgan's Rift a black hole for any new pirates that decide to drop by, but that's a hell of an investment for what you're likely to get out of it."
 
Van Dame favored me with a tight smile. "I understand. And you're right. This isn't likely to fix things on Borgan's Rift. But the Magestrix needs to provide support to House Tompkins. If you can curb the pirate situation, at least in part, all to the good. The Magestrix has defended her nation and helped one of her political allies. If the situation is unrecoverable, the Magestrix made a best effort before coming to the regrettable conclusion that House Tompkins must come to punishment."
 
I nodded in understanding. "And this gives me a chance to test my unit out on some easy targets."
 
"I'd caution you about that," said Van Dame. "Pirates can be an undisciplined rabble, but they can also be professionals. Plenty of them are warriors that decided to strike out for themselves, or mercenaries that decided contracts were a hassle."
 
Kumari nodded. "She's right, Colonel. Pirates tend to lose in fair fights, but they're also very good at not committing to them."
 
"It is popular work, though." said the Canopian. "Come back with captured pirate flags and you'll get cheers."
 
"Very fair," I said. "I stand corrected. Not that I intended to treat them to a fair fight either."
 
"You do your teacher proud." said Kumari.
 
"So," I said, feeling the warmth from the praise. "You'll want us to eliminate at least part of the infestation for best effects."
 
Van Dame smiled. "We would also appreciate it if you could stiffen the spine of the local forces. I've been impressed by the preliminary reports from your training program. It doesn't look much like our military schools, but you seem to be getting results."
 
I laughed. "The only credit I get for that is putting this lady in charge," I said, gesturing to Cliffhanger.
 
"A good commander knows how to do things by knowing who can get it done," she said.
 
"You see what I mean," I said to Van Dame.
 
"I do indeed," she replied. "The other part of your operations has to do with Adelman Prospecting."
 
"I had wondered why you wanted my siblings along," I said.
 
"Adelman Prospecting is well respected in its field," said the Canopian. "The Magestrix thinks that they may be able to find something valuable on Borgan's Rift, given a chance."
 
"They hadn't tried?" asked Cliffhanger.
 
"My understanding is that with rising prices for licenses and the dangers to his employees, Mr. Adelman didn't consider a trip to Borgan's Rift worth it," said Van Dame. "Of course, they will have quite a bit more security on hand this time."
 
"That's one way of putting it," I said. "You do realize most of the old guard left the business, right? We've only been able to get a few of the original staff back. I don't know if they will be able to find anything worthwhile."
 
"Frankly, while the Magestrix would be thrilled if they stumbled across some lostech, or found something else valuable to the Magistracy, their presence is meant to be a bonus to you, both in an economic and political sense."
 
I narrowed my eyes. "What are you getting at?"
 
"Recovered technology is lucrative, and again, popular. You'll be sharing in success with members of your house, which should help to consolidate your position with the Landynskis. I know you've been having difficulties there."
 
"You could say that," I said, feeling phantom twinges in my ribs.
 
"Of course, they also serve as a lure for pirate activity, helping to accomplish the main objective."
 
"Can't say I'm happy about using my people as bait," I said.
 
"Lostech prospecting is a high risk profession." said Van Dame.
 
I looked over to Cliffhanger, who favored me with an unreadable one back. I sighed and turned back to the colonel. "I can't say for Adelman Prospecting just yet, but CMC is interested. Let's get my lawyer in here and we'll figure out the specifics."
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===Contract Complications===
Piper Aerospace Interstellar, Thistledown Spaceport
Salonika (Continent), Canopus IV
Magistracy of Canopus
29th June, 3015
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"What's got you in such a lousy mood?" asked Natan as he joined me outside Piper's shopfront. "I thought we got a sweetheart contract."
 
"Relations," I grunted. "We did get generous terms on the contract, though. Command rights, solid pay, generous support and salvage. No, CMC's in good shape. I just got chewed up one side and down the other by Mrs. Rose."
 
"I thought Thorny liked you," said my friend. "What gives?"
 
"She was displeased that I couldn't talk sense into my half-siblings." I said. Esther and Joeseph had immediately committed to sending Adelman Prospecting along with CMC when Kyalla had mentioned offhandedly that she'd like them searching for whatever computer tech and data they might be able to pull out of Borgan's Rift's cities. And with the two of them holding a controlling interest in CMC, I couldn't do much to dissuade them, especially against the Magestrix's wishes.
 
Stephanie had understood that, but it was still her and her people's collective tuchus that would be dangling in the wind at explicit bait for los lobos. She'd taken my offer to let her in on the defense planning, along with my willingness to give a no mierda brief to the prospectors as steps in the right direction, but I was hardly her favorite person in all creation at the moment.
 
"Can't fix stupid." opined Nat.
 
"Literally the point of school," I grumbled. "But I guess that's a problem around here."
 
"There is no amount of learnin` that'll fix some people," he said. "Sometimes I suspect it does the opposite for others."
 
I shook my head. "Not going to hash this out right now. Got shopping to do." I headed for the door.
 
"Speaking of," said Nat as he fell into step with me. "Why'd you bring me along for this? Wasn't talking to Piper Aerospace No-Fly's baby? And what's with the duffle?"
 
"Do you really think it's a good idea for me to be around him when I'm this grumpy?" I asked, readjusting the full duffle on my shoulder.
 
"Okay, maybe," my friend said. "But for hating the guy you've been pretty fair to him so far."
 
"It's not like I can just shoot him in the face," I said, before turning to the receptionist. "Zalman."
 
"Yes sir," said the fresh-faced young woman. "You're expected. This way please." She stood to lead us deeper into the building.
 
"Gid," said Nat. "You probably could do just that. What with the Contessa's support and the Magestrix taking an interest…" He smiled at the receptionist's giggle as much as my groan. "And it's not like any of our people would care that much about a gringo."
 
"Maybe I don't want to be the sort of person who feels like they can do that with no consequences. Besides, he does his job." I nodded to the receptionist as she showed us to a conference room, taking a seat and kicking the duffle under the table.
 
"Kinda my point," said my friend. "There isn't really anything keeping you treating him decent except you." He smiled at the HHA staffer who Stratios Chambers had sent to represent her, citing a need to get on top of a potential outbreak.
 
I only hoped her outbreak had nothing to do with the samples I had given the HHA. "That shuddersome thought aside, I did have a reason for bringing you along, cabron."
 
The insult rolled off Nat like water off a duck's back. "Did you want me to seduce the rep for a discount?" he joked.
 
I shook my head in exasperation. "Glad to see you've been adapting well," I said. "No, I needed a non-pilot."
 
Natan turned to me to ask what I meant, only to be cut off by the door opening and a well groomed man who's clothes screamed 'senior sales rep' came in.
 
"Colonel Zalman," he said, offering his hand. "I hope you weren't waiting long."
 
"Not at all," I said, shaking his hand. "Mister..?"
 
"Riley," said the rep. "No relation." He offered handshakes to Nat and the HHA employee before finding his own seat and opening a leatherbound folder. "Well, I must say, I'm pleased and honored to have both the HHA and Crimson's very own up and coming mercenary company showing up to talk to us. What can Piper Aerospace do for you?"
 
At the HHA staffer's deferring nod, I powered on my noteputer. "CMC has been expanding our training program, as you may have heard."
 
"There's been some chatter, yes," said the man.
 
"One of my men informed me that you might be able to provide us with trainers."
 
The rep smiled. "Oh, I'm sure we can do that. I think we might even be able to match the configuration of the trainer you went through flight school with."
 
I chuckled. "I think you might find that a challenge."
 
Nat pressed a fist against his mouth, holding back his laughter. The rep's expression fell a bit, but quickly recovered. "Now now, give us a chance. We pride ourself here at Piper on meeting the customer's expectations. What type of Hopper did you train on?"
 
I shook my head. "Didn't."
 
"Oh, then you got the chance to learn on a Topper? Well, I'm happy to report we have some in stock…" he trailed off as I shook my head. "No?"
 
I smiled. "I did prifly in a fusion arcjet, and advanced in a Sabre. Haven't touched a Piper spaceframe."
 
His eyes popped wide. "A Sabre would be a challenge," he agreed.
 
"And prohibitively expensive," I agreed. "And it's been pointed out to me that it's probably too much fighter for most trainees. I'm glad to hear that you've got some Toppers, though. I'll be honest, the Hoppers do look a little sluggish to me."
 
He rallied. "Coming from where you did, I imagine they do. But they have other qualities we like to think make up for that."
 
"The modularity is quite attractive," I agreed, bringing up a technical draft on my noteputer. "CMC and the HHA were thinking about this specification for a joint project." The Hopper's cargo bay was taken up by a modest medical package allowing for a variety of bush medicine from surgery to lab work, along with an infantry bay for first responders, security, or evacuees. The fact that it made for a flying MASH station and personnel carrier was a happy coincidence.
 
The rep looked over the specifics. "No weapons? But you've got extra heavy duty conduit here…"
 
I nodded. "We'll be doing the weapons fitting in house," I said.
 
He looked over to the HHA staffer. "And the HHA? Will you want to do the fitting for the medical bay yourselves?"
 
She pressed her lips into a thin line. "That depends on what Piper can provide, both in terms of price and quality."
 
He nodded. "Well, we'll do our best, but you are the experts in the field. One thing that does stand out to me is that you've got this medical unit hard mounted to where the bay was. With a little work, adding a generator and some sealing, you could probably get this as a deployable module, freeing up the spaceframe for other work after it drops off the doc and tools where they need to be."
 
I cocked my head to the side, doing my best to envision what he was saying. "I could see that being useful," I admitted. "What does the HHA think?"
 
The staffer nodded slowly. "I think it's something we should explore, but I know that the Stratios wants forward movement as fast as practicable."
 
"Something for a second model?" asked the sales rep. "I do think we can get this worked and priced up quickly. How many were you thinking?"
 
"I have authorization for a squadron of six to test the concept," said the HHA lady, "though if the concept has legs, that number is likely to expand considerably."
 
I nodded. "The HHA's taking the lead here. I will say I'm very interested in your deployable cargo unit concept. Even if the HHA ends up sticking with hard mounted spaceframes, I'm willing to explore the modular concept for CMC."
 
Riley smiled. "Well that's all good news on our end. What about the Toppers?"
 
"I was hoping to take a closer look," I said. "Maybe take one out for a spin?"
 
"I took the liberty of having one of the trainers fueled up," said Riley. "Will you need equipment?"
 
I pulled my duffle out from under the table and unzipped it. "He will," I said, nodding to Natan as I pulled out my helmet. "I'm set."
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===Beginning of an interesting training flight===
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Sitting in the back seat of the TP–33R Topper was an odd experience. Not because the controls were odd. The center stick and throttle wasn't my preferred HOTAS layout, but it was familiar. And the switches, buttons, and MFDs that surrounded me were standard enough. No, it was because this was the instructor seat.
 
It was moments like this when I remembered, for all of combat record and flight time, I never had finished my flight school. Moments where I felt like a big old faker.
 
I ran the start-up sequence to distract myself, making sure to keep the instructor panel that gave me the ability to simulate all sorts of in-flight emergencies locked down and tagged out. Soon enough, the trainer was purring along at idle, and my mind was tickled by the neurohelmet feeding me awareness of the craft's sensors.
 
Which was how I spotted Natan coming into the hangar, looking uncomfortable in a powder-blue Piper-branded flight suit. "Looking good, Tarot." I heckled loud enough to be heard over the whine of the torches at idle.
 
My friend shot me the finger. "What the hell am I doing here?" he asked as he came up to the cockpit. "And why are you in back?"
 
"It's a trainer bird," I said. "You're a trainee. And front's the student seat. Helmet up and climb in. Neurohemet dataport is to the right side of the seat."
 
He climbed in, a little awkwardly as he tried to avoid the 'no step' markings, but soon was settling himself into the ejection seat and strapping himself in. "Guess this isn't so different from a mech," he said. "Feels weird to be wearing so much in one, though"
 
"It's for a good reason," I said. "Get your speed jeans socketed into the anti-G system, left side under the throttle, and the mask into the OBOGS, under the com panel." I made sure that he did. "Okay, I'm going to take us out and test this thing's flight characteristics, push the envelope a bit. Then you're going to get a go."
 
"Got it," he said. "Anything else I should know?"
 
"You keep your hands and feet off the controls unless I tell you specifically," I said. "When I tell you the words 'You Have Control', you put your feet on the pedals, and hands on the stick and throttle, then tell me 'I Have Control'. I'll release control then. If I tell you 'I Have Control', you go hands and feet off immediately, and tell me 'You Have Control'. You're not going to be doing any systems work today, this is all about flight control, getting you used to flying."
 
"Got it," he said again.
 
"We aren't going to head to the black today, this is all strictly atmospheric." I said. "Now, if something goes wrong and we need to get the hell out, I will yell 'EJECT EJECT EJECT' three times. Don't wait for me to say it a fourth time, I'll be gone. If and only if I yell that, you will grab the little black and yellow handle between your legs and yank it straight up. Get your neck in the position you want it stuck in for the rest of your life before you do it. I suggest straight up and forward. If that doesn't work, reach up and pull the handles above your head and pull them over your face. Depending on the Gs, that'll be difficult, so plan on the between the legs method as your first choice, okay?"
 
Natan gave a little graveyard chuckle. "There's a small part of me that wants to try it, just to see the difference between a mech yeet seat and an ASF one," he admitted. "Anything else?"
 
I smiled as I clipped my oxygen mask into place and lowered the canopy. "Yes, critically important."
 
"Yeah?" he asked, putting on his mask as well.
 
"You brought your barf bags, right?"
 
His indignant answer was lost in his involuntary yell as I goosed the throttle and the Topper leapt forward.
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*;Notes from the Author : Well, that's another chapter in the can. A bit of character, a bit of culture, a bit of culture, a bit of contracting, a bit of...dammit the alliteration's broken down. A few small notes before I get onto some weightier things. First, while the scuptural piece in the art museum is not based on anything in particular, the light and color room is based on the James Turrell piece Perfectly Clear (Ganzfeld) which is installed in Mass MOCA. To misquote an art critic, Turrell's light pieces are a pain to describe, but can be sublime to experience. Highly reccomended experience if you're ever out there, along with Hind Sight, which is a darkness piece. I have absolutely not done it justice here. Second, the TP-33R Topper is another one of Psyckosama's creation, a purpose made trainer based on the Piper Aerospace Hopper. I've been priveleged to provide some feedback for it, and I'm pleased as punch to be able to finally feature it. Have no fear, Gid and Natan will be putting it through it's paces next chapter. Third, we have our first contract! While CMC hasn't lifted for it yet, this mercenary story will finally have some mercenary action in the near future. Borgan's Rift is a border world with the FWL, and actually appears in some Battletech official short fiction. Those who have been following the patterns in this story will probably not be surprised that Victor Milan wrote that particular story. (Ozymandias, in 25 Years of Art and Fiction, if you're curious.) Though this story occurs a little earlier in the timeline, so things aren't quite the same situation.
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