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Friendly Fire
Family and politics do not always mix well.
by Jeffrey Smith |
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Thomas Knight's hands shook as he painstakingly measured the ingredients - too little wouldn't satisfy his yearning, while too much could make the remainder of his day a living nightmare. His vision blurred under the pounding headache indicative of his withdrawal symptoms. He whimpered softly as the machinery, with agonizing slowness, processed the ground seed pods. Drip by drip, the magical elixir his body craved fell from the stained spigot until, finally, the chipped cup was full.
"Ahhh...", Knight sighed as he leaned back, enjoying the first cup of coffee of the morning. Stretching his neck to make the obscene crackling noises that always made his comrades wonder if he had finally paralyzed himself, Knight flipped through the contract the unit would be discussing today. The location caught his eye once again, and he winced internally at the thought of operating on such a backwater. *Oh well, at least we won't have to deal with much in the way of opposition if we need to kick some ass*.
The door to the galley opened, admitting Colonel Harris and their employer. Glancing at the cup in Knight's hand, Harris snorted.
"I knew you'd be in here getting your caffeine fix. Let's get going, it's time for the briefing."
Knight moaned. "Dammit Scott, I just got up half an hour ago, why the hell did you schedule this meeting at 11:00 on a day when I had the night watch."
"Because I enjoy watching you suffer."
"Oh, if it's just *that*..." Knight mused. The 'MechWarrior winked at their poker faced employer. "Don't worry Mr. Park, we're just playing with each other. I can go with a lot less sleep than the other officers, so I always get the third shift on important days like today."
"Ah." Park replied. Although his expression remained unchanged, Knight noted the release of tension in them.
"That's one of the things I wanted to mention before we reached the assembly hall." Harris motioned to the door with his XO in tow. "Although we aren't the Kell Hounds, we're a damn good unit, but most of my people are a little....odd. It doesn't affect us in the field at all, but take whatever you see or hear with a grain of salt - it's just our way of laughing at the universe.
"You find the universe... amusing, Colonel Harris?" Park inquired.
"It's either laugh or cry, Mr. Park." Knight stated, which Harris confirmed with a wry nod. "If you spend too much time thinking about how screwed up humanity is, you snap - so we just muddle through our lives doing the best we can for ourselves and others, and hoping that the galaxy will be a better place when we kick the bucket."
"That seems an odd philosophy to hold for a man who is paid to kill others, Captain Knight." Park's statement could have been insulting, but the curiosity in the man's eyes contrasted with the power face he continued to wear.
"You've doubtlessly reviewed our file in the Hiring Hall, Mr. Park. You've noted the longer than average delay between missions at certain points?" Harris asked, continuing with Park's nod. "The reason for that is that we refuse to take missions that conflict with our personal code of honor. We don't go hog wild about it like the Dracs or the Clans, but we generally defend the innocent from the aggressive. Innocent is relative, of course - we took a pirate hunting contract with House Marik during the Chaos March invasion, but we refused a more lucrative offer to participate in attacks on worlds that were fairly happy under their current leadership."
"And in my case, Colonel?"
Harris turned at the ice in his employer's voice. "In your case it's a toss up - in theory the artifacts we seek to recover belong to the Confederation, but you were seriously wronged by House Liao. Since in our eyes the claims on the items are fairly equal, we look at whom we'll be helping, and most of us are unhappy with the way Chancellor Liao abused his power as First Lord. Hurting him is going to make us his enemies, but we really don't care that much - there aren't a hell of a lot of House Lords we respect. Does that answer your question, Mr. Park?"
"Yes it does Colonel. The reports I've assembled on your unit appear to be accurate." Park's face finally cracked with a small smile.
"Excellent." Another thirty meters brought them to the hatchway for the briefing room. "Let's get started."
******
"I never would have taken this damn assignment if I knew where it was going to lead," Jared Harris growled as he strode angrily down the corridor. "Now I have to figure a way to ambush my own brother."
"Get real Jared, you would've taken the job no matter what." His glare was enough to set many junior officers quivering, but Margaret Lynch took it without flinching. "You know how important this mission is - blowing it could mean the end of the League. You're going to have to put your feelings aside and deal with this, or you could indirectly be responsible for a war bloodier than the Fourth."
Harris nodded unhappily, but she wasn't finished. "Although the Captain-General's emphasis on chivalry will reign in every unit under his direct control, you know those maniacs on Rigel will start tossing nukes around if it looks like they're going to lose their homeworlds. I'm sure they aren't the only ones who'll choose to drag as many invaders with them into death as possible, and to hell with the rest of the League - they'll figure they've got nothing to lose, and once they start, any planet that doesn't toss in the towel will be burnt to a cinder."
"Dammit, I *know* that. I hope to God you're wrong about how fanatical some of the planets will resist, but I can't say you're totally off base. But he's my goddamn *brother*, and I have to kill him to get a friggin *cup*."
"I can tell you exactly what General Garabaldi would say to you if you try to get out of this."
Harris nodded. " 'Shut up and Soldier' ".
"Bingo."
Harris sighed as he entered the briefing room, his XO peeling off to grab a seat in the front row. Looking out at the men and women facing him, he wondered how many would be returning with him to the Free Worlds League. "All right ladies and gentlemen, let's get started."
*****
Kwang Huizinga's mood flipped between confidence and fear so rapidly the Maskrovia agent felt he was losing his grasp on reality. He now commanded a staggering number of resources, all dedicated to the success of his mission. Success would validate their use, failure would likely end in his death. Internally part of him was glad he had been unable to generate any leads until recently. Recovery of items tied so closely to the history of the Capellan Confederation would have brought him glory at any point, but even more so with the Xin Sheng movement inaugurated by Chancellor Liao. *I might even get a Mandarinship out of this*.
Exerting iron control, he faced the thirty agents that had secretly assembled in the warehouse. "All right, let's get started."
Activating the holo projector, he pointed at the image with his pointer. "This is the face of your enemy."
*****
"This is the only person in the galaxy who knows the location of Target Alpha. Our original plan, you doubtlessly recall, was to seek employment as his mercenary bodyguards, but unfortunately he found someone else before we arrived on planet." Jared Harris bit his lip, activating another holograph. "This is Scott Harris, and we may have to kill him and all his men."
***
"After we make planetfall, we'll need to contact Richard Bullis, and.... persuade him to spill his guts."
"Torture?" one of the mercenaries asked with distaste.
"No," Park said, flashing a thick wad of C-Bills. "Bribery." Park smiled slightly until the laughter passed, then became more serious. "However, realize that, besides the seven security guards slain during the break in, the thieves set half a block of apartments on fire with an inferno spread as a distraction - not to mention the late lamented Mr. Thorne slaughtered his team once he was in orbit. Our contact wasn't directly responsible for either act - but he isn't exactly a saint either, or Thorne wouldn't have trusted him enough to hide the stuff. On the other hand, he's apparently fairly gutless, or he would've taken off with the artifacts by now. If currency will not get us the information, I'm sure intimidation will."
Harris regained control of the briefing. "Jenny!"
"Yo!"
Pulling a holodisk from behind his back, the mercenary commander sent it wizzing through the air with a flick of his wrist. A hand darted up to snag the passing disk, immediately placing it in the player seated in the owner's lap. "Those are the twenty most common civvy groundcars in the target area. Reskin two of the Speedbumps before we jump."
"No problem."
"We won't be able to make any further plans until we learn what Bullis has to say, but we're pretty sure the artifacts are being cached somewhere outside the city."
"How do we know that?" a unit member asked.
Park replied. "Context. Before I was able to turn the tables on Bullis, he gloated that once he killed me he was going to pick up Thorne, take a trip "to the mountains", and relocate somewhere else. There aren't any mountains within 100 kilometers of Flat, and those are liberally covered by mines, so the odds are the cache is either somewhere else on planet or on a nearby world."
Nodding his thanks to his employer, Harris regained control of the briefing. "That's basically it, we're going to have to wait and see what happens when we hit the planet. Are there any questions?"
One of the technicians stood. His towering height almost brushed the ceiling, and his bulk would give an Elemental pause. Locking eyes with his CO as all conversation stilled, he said, in a pitiful, whining voice, "I want my mommy."
"That's a statement, not a question," Harris pointed out, "and your bizarre personal life is your own concern. Anyone else?"
"Is there a God?"
"Maybe. Next?"
A Mechwarrior held up a bottle. "Is Timbiqui Dark truly the finest brew in the Inner Sphere?"
"No, but they have the biggest advertising budget. Anyone else?"
Another Mechwarrior pulled something out of her pocket. As soon as the red dot from the laser pointer appeared on the deck, a gray and cream blur darted from beneath a chair and streaked to the stage. The Mechwarrior shut the beam off as the blur resolved itself into a cat, which frantically swiveled it's head, searching for the dot. "Why does Connie chase after my pointer like that?"
Harris picked up the kitten, which ceased searching for the missing spot and began to purr as he stroked it. "Because she has a brain the size of a walnut. What else?"
"How many Wobblies does it take to screw in a lightbulb?" someone else asked.
"Four - one to screw it in and three to pray to the spirit of the copper wire. Next?"
A member of the DropShip's crew stood, clutching his head. "How do I stop the VOICES?!"
"Try Thorazine. Anyone else?
"How many licks does it take to get to the center of a Tootsie Roll Pop? "
Harris looked nonplussed. "What the hell is a Tootsie Roll Pop?"
The Aerospace pilot pumped her fist in the air "*Yes*, I win the pool!" Her grumbling colleagues began handing over wads of C-Bills.
"Ok people, do we have any *serious* questions?" Harris asked.
"What kind of opposition are we talking about on planet?"
"Like most Chaos March worlds there isn't a planetary government in firm control to worry about, but there are at least five separate groups claiming sovereignty. Laio troops technically control the area around the planetary capital, but we shouldn't have to engage them - our LZ is a few hundred kilometers away. If we're attacked, we should be able to flatten them - they have less than a battalion on-planet, and only two lances of 'Mechs. However, if we lollygag the Cappellans might scrape together a force big enough to wax us - Chancellor Liao wants this stuff pretty damn bad." Harris hesitated for an instant. "In addition, it looks like the Free World League sent out a unit to recover the items - God only knows why - but they'll probably try to nail us at some point. Luckily, neither House knows where we're going, so we should be able to get in and out before they can drop the hammer on us."
"When do we leave?"
"No later than 24 hours from now. We've finalized a deal with the *Troedel*, which jumped in-system three days ago. It'll take another three days to get from here to the Zenith point, which should give them plenty of time to charge up. They'll need two weeks to recharge, and they've agreed to stick around for an additional five days, which gives us a day to get in and out - three days if we burn at 1.5 Gs on the way back."
"What's to keep the JumpShip's captain from selling our destination to the Cappies?"
"We haven't told them where we're going, just that we need them to stay in the system for at least 19 days if they want the contract for our return trip. We won't tell them our destination until we dock. We're confident that we'll maintain secrecy."
***
"Acamar."
"Acamar? Are you sure? How do you know?"
The Acolyte smiled. "We are confident in the accuracy of our information, Force Commander. However, the keepers of Blake's wisdom must keep some knowledge to ourselves during these trying times."
Harris' skin crawled. He'd never been fond of the pre-Schism ComStar, despite the fact that they'd saved the Captain-General's life, but his feelings for the Word of Blake made his previous misgivings seem minor, even laughable.
Distasteful or not, the Word of Blake was allied with the Free Worlds League, and their contact had saved the mission from almost certain failure. "When do they jump?"
"In approximately twelve hours. Assuming you leave within the hour and boost at 1.5 G's they'll only have a two day lead on you, which a pirate jump will more than make up."
"Good enough," Harris said, forcing everything but the mission from his mind. "Thank you, acolyte. I don't want to be rude, but I need to get my unit ready, so..."
"Of course, Force Commander. Blake's Will must be done."
***
Spacetime rippled and tore. Vacuum and the odd hydrogen ion vanished and were replaced almost instantaneously with a hunk of hollow metal filled with gas and organics. In a fit of pique, the bruised universe announced the arrival of the *Trodel* with a burst of electromagnetic energy spreading in a steadily expanding globe from the JumpShip's entry point. This wave front was swiftly followed by the weaker but more focused radiation emanating from the JumpShip's radar emitter. Every object larger than a basketball within 100,000 kilometers reflected this assault with enough vigor to allow the *Trodel* to accurately map it's immediate neighborhood. Noting no threats, a pair of DropShips separated from the motionless JumpShip. Utilizing only their reaction thrusters, the two spherical spacecraft maneuvered until they were certain their larger cousin would not be threatened by their exhaust, then triggered their mighty fusion drives.
Nine hundred thousand kilometers away, sensitive instruments pried at their targets. The modified *Fury*-class DropShip had maintained station for the last four months, cataloging all traffic to and from the star's zenith jump point. The electromagnetic pulse had awakened the craft's computer and skeleton crew, and the radar impulses had been detected almost immediately. The *Chae*, too, had reflected the radar energy, but by the time the radiation had returned to the JumpShip it had degraded beyond a detectable level.
The radar from the two DropShips had also been noted, but it was a whisper compared to the torrent of energy pouring from the fusion engines pushing the craft. Powerful computers instantly classified the two ships as *Union* class, and the distinctive signature of their drives was matched with equally distinctive frequencies of their radar emitters. Watching just long enough to verify the ships were heading for Acamar, the *Chae* aligned the signaling laser that had replaced it's nose mounted weaponry on the northern pole of the distant planet. A orbiting telescope awaited such signals, as a similar satellite over the south pole watched for signals from the ship covering the nadir point. Both installations relayed to a safe house maintained by the Capellan Confederation.
Twenty minutes after the signal was received, a Hyperpulse signal was on it's way to Outreach. |
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