drakes demons

8/6/2019 Drakes Demons

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11 March 3, 3020

Canal, Coventry Province Lyran Commonwealth

Silas Drake cursed and tried to shake the sweat from his eyes. The heat wasincredible. There was a spurt of dizziness as his mammoth war machine reeled underanother assault of hellish energies.

Drake triggered his remaining PPC and croaked a shout of joy as the Crusader infront of him staggered. The joy was short-lived, as he stabbed the manual override toavoid an overheating-avoidance shutdown.

Fighting to stay conscious, he glanced groggily at his status boards: right-armPPC completely blown away, right knee actuator was fused solid, and the armor on hisWarhammers right side was almost completely gone. His right hip actuator wasdamaged, and strands of artificial myomer muscles dragged behind his battlmech's legslike entrails. He had expended his SRM ammo long ago, but his diagnostics weredetecting a failure to feed missiles.

The Crusaders medium laser scored another hit, staggering the Warhammer , asheat washed through Drakes cockpit. This time, the heat was too much. As his worldturned black, Drakes last thought was to hope that Addy Gunderson, his second incommand and long-time friend, could pull the Demons out of this mess.

*~*~*~*

Andrew Addy Gunderson did not utter a word as he wheeled his battlemecharound the ruins of a gas station; because he rarely spoke over the comm in action othermechwarriors had tagged him with the moniker of Iceman. His normally handsomeface, however, was twisted in a cruel snarl.

As the battered Griffin mechs Fusigon PPC scrawled man-made lighting towardhim, Gunderson whirled his modified SHD-2K Shadow Hawk to his right with all thegrace of a ballet dancer executing a pirouette. As it faced the Griffin again, the Shadow

Hawk's right arm came up, bringing its medium laser to bear. Thirty meters in a mechfight was pointblank range the laser fired once, and was followed by its mates in themechs chest. Armor plates, internal skeletal frames and myomer bundles flew like chaff in the wind as high-pressure fluid bottles in the Griffon's right leg ruptured.

Gunderson shifted his mech to reverse, dropping his back-mounted Donal PPCdown over his mechs left shoulder and firing, the man-made lightning ravaging theGriffon still further as it fell. Inside the Shadow Hawk's cockpit, Gunderson's heatsensors momentarily spiked into the red, but quickly fell back through yellow, to green.

Gunderson was quietly very proud of his mech, named the Ice Hawk . He hadwon it in a game of Four Card Drax (no, really!) on Galatea, the so-called Mercenarys


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Star , and killed its previous owner an apparently sore loser in the fight that followed.Scrounging enough money to get the PPC and medium laser working, then acquiring aslot in a moderately good sable on Solaris VII the Game World, famous for its televisedmech duels Gunderson won enough money in three years to almost completely rebuildhis mech.

Gundersons mech had begun its life as a standard -2K, where the SHDs originalClass 5 Armstrong Autocannon was replaced with a Donal Particle Projection Cannonand five heat sinks, giving it seventeen of the all-important heat management devices.With his Solaris money, Gunderson had modified it further, dropping both the long- andshort-range missile systems, and replacing them with two more medium lasers and fourmore heat sinks. The Shadow Hawk now ran so cool, that it showed up as an ice-bluecolor on heat sensors, giving the mech its name. Gunderson had also installed StarLeague-grade scanners, recovered from a lostech cache by a professional lostechhunter.

It was on these scanners, while he waited momentarily for the heat to dissipate,that Gunderson saw a strange crest painted on the pirate Griffins cockpit face. Curious,

he focused the scanners to a closer resolution. When he could finally make out the crest,he gasped.

In the blast furnace heat of his cockpit, Pers Stromsky screamed in insane, futilerage, pounding his control console with his living hand. The intense heat and staticelectric discharges had overloaded the circuits in his bionic legs and arm, leaving himtrapped. His mech, the Victory, was totaled. The thought of being Dispossessed madehim wish for death. He started, as his remaining radio crackled to life.

Griffin pilot , a cold, emotionless voice said, its over. Either climb out or eject. If you can do neither, Ill help you out...

Stromsky stabbed the transmit button. Sod off, bugger! Better to be dead thanDispossessed, he spat back.

Maybe not, said the voice. You fought well. The Captain might offer you a position.

It could happen , thought Stromsky. Out on the Rim, most people were nearlyoutlaws themselves, anyway. Alright, he said, but I need help.

Fine, was all the flat, toneless voice said in reply.

The hatch to his left cracked open. Stromsky freed himself from the pilotingharness with his good right hand and connected an auxiliary power supply to his legs.They moved enough to let him swing around to face the hatch.

The mechwarrior who stood in the hatchway wore a fairly advanced-lookingcooling vest and neural helmet. Two small, book-like boxes rested on the hips of the vest,marked Coolant/AMN. The neurohelmet, unlike the tub Stromsky wore, looked morelike a crash helmet. The mech-driver carried a Sternsnacht Heavy pistol in his right hand,a mini vid recorder in his left.

Pers Stromsky? the man asked casually.Yeah? Stromsky replied, starting to feel uneasy.


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Three years ago, on Altair IV, you kicked in the cockpit of an almost-destroyedWasp , killing the pilot. My name is Andrew Gunderson, and that pilot was my sister,Julia. You murdered her after she had surrendered. This, he said, indicating the recorder,is for the record.

Pers Stromsky never had a chance to scream as the massive pistol recoiled.

*~*~*~*

Tammy McDougals Crusader , Vixen , careened around a small hillock at topspeed, just in time to see the pirate Crusader savage Drakes Warhammer with itsmedium lasers. Screaming with rage, she loosed a double flight from her Luxorautocannon. Most of the cannon shells hit, staggering the Crusader momentarily. Then, itbegan to stalk her.

Iceman, this is Vixen, she radioed. Silas is in deep shit! Where are you?!

After thirty seconds that seemed like days, Tammys radio crackled. Vixen, Iceman. Give me fifteen seconds... The Crusader fired and missed. She fired her medium lasers and scored a minor

hit. Then, the Ice Hawk came down on its jump jets a cant sixty meters away from theCrusader , flexing its knees to land, then stood erect.

The pirate mech spun to face the new threat, then began backing out of the trap. Itnever made it. Ice Hawks PPC and three medium lasers fired together, and the piratemechs left leg flew off. As it fell, the head exploded, and the pilots ejection seat sailedout and up. A parachute blossomed, and the chair floated back to the ground.

"Crusader pilot," Ice Hawk's external speakers thundered, "hold your position. Any attempt to escape will be dealt with harshly."

The grounded mechwarrior raised his hands symbolically and then sat dejectedlyon the grass.

Tammy shook her head as she looked at the Ice Hawk on her scanners. With allAddys jumping and fighting, he should have shut down long ago.

Reefer, this is Iceman, her radio crackled. Come in.Refrigerator here.Paul, get the trucks over here now, and fast. If Silas isnt dead, he will be soon.

And have Trisha come out with a med team and some of her MPs.Rog - On the way.Tammy didnt giggle far from it. Drakes Demons had no infantry formations

yet. But all of their Techs had at least been basically trained with infantry weapons.Trisha Peters, the Demons top cop, may have been Icemans bedmate, but she

had been a detective Lieutenant on Skye, and a seasoned infantry sergeant before that.Heavy Junk, this is Iceman, over?Rog, Ice. You call, we haul.Eric, bring your transporters over here. Theres mechs and parts all over the

place.Ah, salvage music to my ears! Tammy chuckled the Demons Senior Tech

would be irreverent at a natural disaster.


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Tammy, came Iceman's metallic, impersonal voice, scout around for SHIT! Tammy's MAD (Magnetic Anomaly Detector) had started ringing like mad. She andIceman turned as one. Three Stinger light mechs were charging them from the forest totheir rear.

As she and Gunderson watched, horrified, one of the mech burst into flame as a

stream of liquid fire splashed across its entire length. A big, low-slung coolant truck rumbled around the hill to their right, liquid Hell still dribbling from its twin nozzles.The remaining four mechs stood, stunned and mute. Alright, boys, came Paul

Devers voice over the general pirate frequency, unless you want to learn the truemeaning of hotfoot, power down and dismount your mechs. The surviving Stinger pilots hurried to comply, more terrified of the trucks flamers than of the two, muchheavier mechs before them. A demon MP hover truck raced over to them.

Service with a smile, Devers said over the Demons frequency in a cheerfulvoice. Inside the coolers cab, he flipped a series of switches, shifting the nozzles fromflamer to coolant sprayer, and began to carefully hose down Silas Warhammer withcoolant as the med teams hover ambulance arrived.


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22 March 5, 3020

City of Diggers Rest Canal, Coventry Province

Lyran Commonwealth

The starport, tiny by Commonwealth standards, bustled with activity. Canal was aremote world, with a tiny population, but it had rich deposits of titanium, vital to theCommonwealth's military and interstellar industries.

When Redjack Ryans pirates had descended on the planet, the local garrison (notmuch more than glorified police) had done the only logical thing with only one four-mech lance against a battalion of raiders, they had closed up the port and bankrupted thelocal exchequer to send a first priority message through Comstar, the interstellarcommunications network, calling frantically for help. Two weeks later, Drakes Demons striking from their base on Moriguchi spearheaded the assault of the 32nd LyranGuards, the Red Arrows.

A battered Rotunda scout car, left over from the days of the vaunted Star Leaguetwo hundred years before, rumbled up to the Red Arrows field headquarters. The onlything that distinguished it from normal military vehicles was the image of a howling,blue-faced demon with blood-tinged horns painted on the doors and hood.

As the beaten-up old vehicle came to a stop, the passenger door opened, and AddyGunderson climbed out. At forty-two, he looked like a cigar and cognac model; hisfastidiousness in appearance had served him well on Solaris VII, where he was still thedarling of newsvids, but to him, it was only one more tool to use. He was dressed in theDemon's green and black leopard-skin pattern field combat uniform; at his heels was hisone sacrifice to vanity in the field: he wore small, decorative gold spurs on his boots,following the practice of most mechwarriors from the Federated Suns, where he hadattended the Albion Military Academy.

The guards at the door to the headquarters came to attention. Addy smiled as hesaluted them in the Federated Suns manner; this would have been Hannahs doing. As heapproached, the door opened, and a tall, statuesque figure emerged. Leutnant -ColonelHannah Steiner-Burke, a distant cousin of the Archon, was forty-three, and stunninglyattractive. She was in field command of the 32nd, as Colonel von Kulic was ...currentlyon Tharkad, briefing the Archon... meaning that he was being promoted sideways,to get him out of the way so that more competent officers could advance.

Addy thought it a strange system for a polity under almost continual attack.Hannah and Addy embraced in a most unmilitary manner, like the old friends they

were rumors at the Court on Tharkad to the contrary, it had never been more than that.Addy, she smiled fondly, how are you? I'm glad the Demon's did so well,

here.Gunderson winced in mock-agony. My Archon , you wound me! Please ! You'll

destroy my reputation! His manner would have surprised almost the entire Demoncompany his Iceman reputation came as much from his attitude outside his mech asin it.


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Hannah took his arm in hers as they began to walk. How is Silas? she askedwith concern. Within the Commonwealth, that was another oddity the regular militaryrarely deigned to show any concern for mere mercenaries.

Still a bit groggy, Addy replied. Hannah he doesn't know yet.Then I'll let you tell him. She looked carefully at Gundersons features. Addy -

let it go. Stromsky is dead. Youve avenged your sister, Silas wife. It's over don't let itconsume you.If only it were that simple, he said heavily. I just cant get used to the idea. I

feel like there is something more to do ...Hannah decided to take the plunge. Addy quit. You and Silas. Hell, your entire

company. I'll talk to the Archon, not that it would take much. You'd both get a Barony, atleast.

Addy sighed. Now, Hannah...Don't now Hannah me! I know how bad life as a merc can get I've seen it!

The two of you could have anything you want, rank, money, position possessions. Youcould write your own tickets in the Commonwealth!

Hannah. Weve been over this before. You know I couldnt leave, even if Iwanted too which I dont. Silas? He built this unit. Besides he grinned, Trish wouldkill me.

Hannah gasped in exaggerated shock. A romance ?! Is it possible ? she said, hereyes dancing gleefully.

Gunderson laughed. You should know you steered her into the Demons......I know, I know... Hannah gasped between laughs.After a moment, Addy said, Okay, now come on you know this visit wasn't

purely pleasure...Hannah laughed in return, tossing her golden hair, her Steiner Gray eyes

twinkling. Alright, you thief what do you want?Gunderson's business face returned. Youre aware of the details in our contract

concerning salvage?Hannah nodded, face serious.While we were out bashing heads the other day, some of our mechs took a

beating, too we're down to nine operational mechs at the moment. Form his rightbreast pocket, he took out a memory chip, and handed it to her. This is a list of the partswe need.

Pulling a ROM-Reader from under her uniform tunic, Hannah quickly scannedthe list, her eyebrows rising slightly. This is quite a bit, she said, looking at Gundersonexpectantly.

Ill give you the Thunderbolt , the Griffin and one well-roasted Stinger ...Hannahs eyebrows rose to full arch. That much? Come on what else?Iceman smiled in a way that Hannah found decidedly unsettling. Well, there is

that Rifleman yall captured, and don't have much use for... he said, pointedly adding hisnative dialect.

Hannah took on a disapproving look, and began to tap her right boot. Gundersonheld up his hands and smiled pleasantly. Its just for a heavy fire lance I swear !


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Well, I suppose I could, she said, but youll have to find a replacement for itsD2J radar that thing was a junker before we slagged it, and I don't have any spares tofree up.

Not a problem, Gunderson said. Im sure well find one on Galatea.Hannahs face fell. Then you'll not renew your contract?

Addy shook his head. We cant. The Mercenary Troops Liaison Office isinsisting on changing our salvage clause, which would practically company store us.Some Successor States tried to co-opt unwary mercenary units with the ancientCompany Store practice: they would make sure that the expenses charged to the unitexceeded their payments under contract, then would be all too ready to loan the unitmoney to pay off their debts effectively buying a multi-billion C-Bill unit for peanuts.The Commonwealth almost never engaged in such practices, as it depended too heavilyon mercenaries, but sometimes the effect could be the same with the Third SuccessionWar winding to a close, many states were doing their best to cut costs, to encouragecommerce.

Presently, Hannah said, So where will you go now?

Don't know, really. Weve had some feelers, but nothing definite.Well, wherever you go, you have to stay in touch. Ill give you what you need.Then you can get back to Moriguchi.

Gunderson embraced her warmly. Thanks, Hannah really. What about you?Where does the 32nd go now?

Back to Strandfontain, where else? she laughed.Gunderson nodded. Well, I have to go see Silas, yet. Just remember, Hannah: go

with God, and if you ever decide to quit, youll always have a place in the Demons...

*~*~*~*

Iceman walked into the recovery ward of the Diggers Rest hospital. It was filledwith civilian and military wounded; not all the civilians had escaped into the hinterlands.At the end of the ward, two guards of he 32nd flanked a set of fire doors beyond wasthe prisoner ward, where the 32nds intelligence officers and MPs were keeping capturedpirates. Spying Silas, Addy marched over purposely. Silas looked up from a book reader,and smiled weakly he was still recovering from the effects of heat exhaustion.

Silas, we need to talk.Shoot, he said, putting down the reader. He sounded better than he looked.We're going to make a lot of cash out of this, Gunderson said. I want to send

Trevor to Galatea as soon as we get back to Moriguchi to recruit an infantry company ortwo maybe a battalions worth. Itll give us a better contract edge.

I agree completely, said Drake. I was thinking the same thing myself. Nothingelse should happen before our contract expires, so we should have plenty of time torebuild before Galatea. How's Mjolnir?

Gunderson looked pained. Eric says three months, minimum.Ugh.Yeah, I Gunderson stopped as the comm-panel next to Drakes bed began to

bleat furiously. The two looked at each other for a second, before Drake pushed theAnswer button.


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Leutnant Connor Thomas, Hannahs aide-de-camp, appeared on the screen.Gunderson! Thank God I found you there! An unidentified Jumpship just appeared at apirate point near Canal and detached a Union -class that is now burning hard for dirtside.All units are ordered to scramble.

Gunderson harrumphed A company? Against a reinforced regiment? Oh well

the Demons are on the way. Connor was nodding vigorously as Gunderson killed theconnection.The Leutnant could be...excitable...at times.As he turned, he saw Drake getting out of his bed. And just where do you think

youre going?To Hannah's headquarters, Drake said. Im not about to miss this.Silas, wait, the Iceman said. Drake stopped in his tracks at the change in tone.

Pers Stromsky is dead, Silas. He died at my hands. He handed Drake the recordingchip.

Drake stared at the plastic-covered wafer, unsure if it was a holy relic, or a flesh-eating scarab from Astrokazy. Then, he hugged the Iceman. Well speak of this later,

he said, tears in his eyes. Then, they turned, and walked out together.*~*~*~*

At the 32nds mobile headquarters, Hannah Steiner-Burke peered at her map of Canal, focusing on the area around Diggers Rest. As the unknown was a Union -class, itcouldnt be carrying more than twelve battlemechs, so she was not overly worried. Twoof the maxims of war, however, were expect the unexpected , and never underestimatethe enemy . One did not get even temporary command of a battlemech regiment by beingstupid.

Or shouldnt , she thought acidly.A technician spoke up. Colonel, the dropship is signaling. They are requesting to

speak to the Commanding Officer of Drakes Demons, he said, with a perplexed look.Hannah was still looking at the tech oddly when Silas walked in. Silas ! What are

you doing out of bed? she scolded. Becoming serious, she said, Sit here, indicting aswivel chair next to her command seat. The unknown wants to talk to you.

Me? Drake asked, thoroughly surprised. What for?Hannah shook her head as the vidscreen came to life. The face that appeared was

encased in a battered old neurohelmet that bore ancient traces of Capellan Confederationunit markings. The face was quite familiar to both Hannah and Silas.

It elicited completely differing reactions, however.David! Silas almost shouted with obvious pleasure. How are you?!Hannah went livid. Captain David Wilson was the commander of Wilsons

Hussars , a once-respected mercenary unit that had gone rogue and turned pirate, joiningRedjack Ryan's bandits on his base of Butte Hold in the barbarous Periphery. Wilson andhis Hussars had recently raided several Commonwealth worlds. And now, here was herdear friend, Silas, talking to him like a brother.

Hello, Silas, Wilson was saying. How are you?Getting older, but not so much as you. I hope, for your sake, this isnt a social

call.


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Well, Silas, it is, in a way. You see, Im here to surrender.What?! both Hannah and Silas said in unison.All true, Wilson said. But, there are conditions: under the Laws of War and

the Ares Conventions, I will surrender to no one but you, Silas. Personally. The so-called Laws of War were codified in the Ares Conventions nearly six centuries before.

They regulated how units fought and surrendered. Most units, if not their states, paid atleast lip service to the Convention.What game are playing at, Wilson? Hannah demanded angrily. Im in

command of all Commonwealth forces on Canal. Youll surrender to me, pirate, if at all.Im afraid not, Hannah, Silas said calmly. Hannah stared at him, shocked. If

there were no mercenary forces on Canal, you would be correct. Since there are, we fallnot only under the Laws of War, but also under the principles of the Mercenary Code,which the Commonwealth adheres to. Specifically, in surrendering his unit intact, withoutfiring a shot, the Hussars mechs, ships, personnel, vehicles, etcetera, become theproperty of the Demons, to dispose of as we see fit. Turning to the screen, David, justwhat are you surrendering?

The Hussars in toto, along with the Jumpship Raven and the dropships Bustamontes, which I am now aboard and the Excalibur-class Hummingbird, along withtheir crews.

I cant believe what Im hearing, Hannah said. To Silas, You cant seriouslyexpect me too

Oh, yes I can , Herr Leutnant-Colonel, Silas said quietly, deadly serious. Youhave my word as an officer that your intel people will be allowed full access to CaptainWilson and his crew for debriefing before we depart Canal. If there is a problem withthat, it can be taken up with the Mercenary Review Board on Galatea.

In the tense silence that followed, part of Hannahs mind howled, baying at herfor Silas blood. The rational part of her mind reminded her that she was on the directgenetic line to Claudius Steiner, the Commonwealths mad dictator from a hundred andfifty years before. That rational part worked its way through what was happening.

Silas was on shaky legal grounds, at best. It was one thing to accept the surrenderof a raiding merc unit in the employ of a House, but it was quite another to do so with aknown pirate. Yet, Silas was supremely confident. Why? Then, with a start, Hannahrealized the answer: she, herself might have been distantly related to the Archon, but in3010, Silas had been recalled to Tharkad on a command circuit of Jumpships all theway from Poulsbo on the Lyran Rim, to act a pallbearer for Duke Arthur Luvon, theArchons husband, who had died of cancer. She vividly recalled the image of the Archonwalking behind her husbands body down Tharkads snowy streets and Silas washelping to carry the coffin, next to the famous Morgan Kell, the commander of the KellHounds Mercenary Regiment. And, also like Kell, Silas was one of the godparents tolittle Melissa Steiner, the Archons only child and heir.

For a moment, she considered simply arresting Silas on the spot, and bringing theUnion under fire if it tried to flee, and making up an excuse to the Archon thenimmediately dropped the idea. Wilson was clearly transmitting from his mechs cockpit,which meant his company was likely rigged for combat drop if things went badly.

Plus, she only had one company of mechs in Diggers Rest the rest of the RedArrows were out in the bundu , chasing down pirates who had escaped the counterattack.


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That, and there were the Demons to consider. Bile rose in her throat infuriatingher even more at the thought of the frighteningly competent Andrew Gunderson takingcommand of the very competent Demon's and leading them against her mechs.Gunderson as well as the leader of the Demons Recon Lance, Lars Botkin were bothmore than capable of fighting any one of her four-mech lances to a standstill single-

handed...And she knew that Gunderson (and likely Botkin) was monitoring thisconversation live, because she had given a subordinate unit commander monitoringaccess to the Mobile HQ's communications net which meant that Gunderson wasalready formulating a plan if she lost her senses.

If it came down to that, Silas could truthfully say that he was simply trying toaccept the surrender of a minor pirate band, and that Hannah had gone berserk, resultingin Gunderson and the rest of the Demons doing major damage to the Red Arrows in anattempt to rescue him.

Hannah knew that she would be lucky if she only faced a firing squad after that.Stiffly, she looked at Silas. With false politeness: Had anyone else said that, I

would have ordered my units to open fire, Silas. As it is, I will have to be content with a

very extensive debrief of the good captain and his...people. Captain Wilson, you willinstruct your ship to approach Canal-Down on approach vector thirty-six. Any deviationwill result in your being fired upon. Is that understood?

Loud and clear, maam, Wilson answered.

*~*~*~*

As the Bustamontes grounded, two hover trucks one from the Demons, the otherfrom the Red Arrows started across the landing field, aiming for a vehicle hatch thatwas starting to open.

As the truck grounded, Gunderson touched Trisha Peters hand, sharing a look and a wink as she turned, and ordered her MPs out.

As they stepped to the ground, Gunderson and Peters nodded to their oppositenumbers, Hauptmann Raul Cisneros and Leutnant Alan Berg. Their troops formed behindthem, both sides keeping up a deceptively casual attitude. Regulars and mercs rarely gotalong in the best of times, and situations like this could be...difficult.

Walking down the ramp of the Union were four people. Gunderson was shockedat Wilson's appearance he looked like he was in his fifties, but Addy knew him to beyounger than himself. To Wilsons right was an older man, with neatly trimmed whitehair and beard, and the loose gait of someone accustomed to long periods inmicrogravity. Next him was a large man, seemingly in his fifties. He was quite large,actually, and very picturesque he was swarthy, strove hard to effect the pirate lookand actually wore a gold hoop earring in his left ear.

The woman to Wilsons left had long, auburn hair that hung halfway down herback. Her most striking feature, however, apart from some scars near her left ear, werethe tattoo's around her eyes, marking her as being from the Free Worlds League...maybe.Out on the Rim, you could never be sure.

Wilson looked at Hauptmann Cisneros for a moment, then turned to Gundersonand gave the fist-to-breast salute of the Capellan Confederations House Liao. Wilsons


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Hussars, with the Jumpship Raven , and the dropships Bustamontes and Hummingbird ,presenting ourselves for surrender to Drakes Demons, Wilson said.

Cisneros looked ready to spit. Speaking for Major Drake, Gunderson said,snapping a Davion-style salute in reply, I accept your surrender. Grinning, he extendedhis hand. How are you, Dave?

A lot better now, Addy, Wilson said smiling as he returned Addys firm gripstrongly. Where's Silas?Recovering from heat exhaustion. Hes alright, though.Great! Let me introduce Captain Vincent Edwards, of the Raven , he said,

indicating the white-bearded man, And Captains Sharon Buenaventura, of the Bustamontes , and Captain Hiram Jakes earring-man of the Hummingbird .

As they shook hands, Gunderson said, And this is Lieutenant Trisha Peters, ourhead of security. And these are Hauptmann Cisneros and Leutnant Berg, of the 32ndLyran Guards, he said, indicating the two Commonwealth officers.

Wilson extended his hand to Cisneros who, red-faced, turned on his heel, andstomped back to his vehicle. Leutnant Berg kept his face forcefully blank, until Cisneros

had passed him. He then cocked an eyebrow, shrugged apologetically, and followed hiscommander back to their hovertruck.Ah, well, Gunderson sighed. The life of a mercenary.


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33 March 8, 3020

Aboard Dropship AllianceOutbound to Zenith Jump Point

Canal, Coventry Province Lyran Commonwealth

Talk at the Captains Table was subdued as Alliance rumbled towards Canalszenith jump point, heading for a rendezvous with the Jumpship Golden Hind ,commanded by Silas brother, Johannes.

Silas knew that his insistence in standing on the Mercenary Code and theimplied threat behind it had strained, possibly past the breaking point, his relationshipwith Hannah, but the opportunity to obtain twelve mechs, two dropships, a covetedJumpship and gods -only knew what else, was too good an opportunity to pass on. AddyGunderson had taken his Fire Lance and Trishas MPs on the Bon Homme Richard todock with the Raven , while Bustamontes trailed the Alliance to dock with the Hind .

Just to keep everyone honest.So anyway, Wilson was saying, we just got tired of all the whacko stuff with

Ryan. The guy is a real nut case. Did you know that he wrecked the atmosphereprocessors of Lysidas, in the League, because he got drunk and blasted the fusion plant?

What was that? Two years ago? asked Sheila MacVickar, Captain of the Alliance .

No, more like three, Silas said. You weren't with him, then, were you Dave? No , thank God! He had Vince, Sharon and me setting up camp on Butte Hold.

He figured hed need a small planet as a bolthole its an old Rim Worlds planet, prettydry, resettled by refugees. We met him at a rendezvous on his way back from Lysidas.After that, things really started to go downhill...

Dave, I didnt press the issue dirtside, but I have to know: why do you haveeighteen mechs, but only eleven mech-drivers? The truth , Dave, not what you told theGuards. Silas left hand was almost casually hidden under the table.

Almost.Wilson didnt seem to notice. He was looking at his plate, a pained look on his

face. He finally sighed heavily. I dont like to bad-mouth my people, Silas, he said,looking up. I took them in; they were my responsibility. The Porath brothers weregiven to me because no one wanted them they were flat-out, bed bug crazy, the bothof them. The Walker kid was actually selling off pieces of his Hunchback to buy Kray-Z, a popular (and highly addictive) hallucinogenic drug, and Chin? Well, Chin was anokay mech-jock, but he wasnt all that skilled. He was so mad that I gave the ReconLance to Stinson, that he started deliberately screwing up under fire to try and makeher look bad. I was sure that he would kill Paula, Sharon, myself or all of us. MacDowell,Vincent and Hayes? They actually wanted to stay with Ryan.

He paused for a moment, his eyes closed. So, I had Milo my Chief Tech spike their drinks two nights before we boosted. I couldnt bring myself to kill them,Silas, so I just left them there.


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Silas' heart went out to his friend. They had met eight years ago, when he wasforming the Demons with Addy, on Galatea, and Wilson had been scrounging for acontract.

They hadnt worked together since, but Silas couldnt imagine what Wilsonscompany had degenerated into. He vowed to never let that happen to the Demon's.

Anyway, Silas what now?The plan Addy and I worked out while you were in debrief works like this. Oncewe arrive at Moriguchi, Trevor Sevon goes with Raven to Galatea to set up billets andstart recruiting infantry, maybe some armor and aerospace assets, if we can afford them.With the Crusader , the Rifleman , the two Stingers and our spare Locusts , we have half of a company. We recruit six stringers with their own mechs, and seven Dispossessed, sixfor ours and one for your salvageable machine, and bingo , he said, snapping his fingers,we have a full battalion. I take my original company as Alpha , yours becomes 'Beta' ,and Addy takes the new company as Gamma . Steve Christopher gets Addys old lance,and we do some shifting to balance things out. Trisha commands the infantry, we train upfor a while, then head out.

To where? asked MacVickar.That is the sixty-four thousand C-Bill question, Silas said, with moreconfidence than he felt.

*~*~*~*

The Alliance nudged into the Goldies Number Two docking ring, bumpingslightly with the contact. Johannes Drakes craggy features filled a vidscreen to Silas'right.

Well, Silas! Back in on piece, I see...For once, Joh, and we hardly even got singed. We ready to go?Ready when you are.Let's do it.Jump in ten. Ill warn you at the one-minute mark.Sheila MacVickar hit the general intercom. All stations, Jump in ten. All stations

secure for Jump.All over the Alliance , men and women checked equipment, hatches, restraining

bolts, wires and straps. Silas Drake checked his own straps, and tried to steady hisbreathing. Interstellar flight was the only aspect of modern life that he didnt care for.How his brother could stand it so regularly was beyond him.

Over the vidlink, now dark, came a low, baritone sound.MacVickar hit the general intercom again. Jump in one minute. Jump in one. It was all Silas could do to stay in his chair. He closed his eyes, and waited.

Around him, the lights dimmed; the universe exploded before his eyes The entity thatwas Silas Drake turned inside out, then stretched almost to breaking, like a latex sheetbeing pulled taut. Then, he snapped back to reality.

He looked around groggily. The bridge was coming back to life, crewmenchecking sensor readings. The vidscreen bleeped, then Johannes face appeared.


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Welcome to beautiful Moriguchi, he said. Everything looks clear. Were deployingthe sail. Raven is off our stern quarter, and has signaled. Youre invited to dinner at eighteen hundred standard. Time on deck is eleven-forty five hours. Then the vidlink went dead.

Chatty as always, Silas thought. It must be the Jumps...Had to be...

*~*~*~*

Conversation at dinner was limited to confirming plans to expand the Demons toa combined-arms regiment. So, well be carrying Mr. Sevon and his assistants as super-cargo? Vincent Edwards was asking.

And a squad of MPs, under Staff Sergeant Cordell, Trisha replied.At fourteen weeks, thats seven hundred thousands C-Bills, assuming we can get

two dropships per Jump, Edwards calculated quickly.

Johannes Drake laughed. With all the traffic in Skye, you could likely count onthree dropships each trip. The Hind will be lucky to make that in the next six months. No one called Johannes Drake's ship Goldie to his face. Not more than once.

Id like to send one of the Mark VIIs with Raven, Silas said. That shouldgive you a little extra punch if needed.

Edwards smiled. A working Mark VII? Happy day!At least the downtime will let us overhaul our engines, said Paula Stevens,

Captain of the Bon Homme Richard . The Ritchie needs work badly.I think we could all use some overhaul, said Sharon Buenaventura, to general

laughter.Trevor Sevon cleared his throat. Born on the Lyran world of Donegal, Sevon had

graduated Donegals prestigious Florentine Lyceum of Business , and had been a verysuccessful stock trader for fifteen years. Then one day, he showed up on Galatea at theDemons billet in a warehouse near the port, and told Silas and Gunderson that what theyneeded was a business manager, and that that was him. He had succeeded admirably inhis six years with the Demons. Sevon was short, pudgy and balding, but was unfailinglypolite in social situations. He had the mind of a computer, and the business morals of aHammerhead shark.

A hungry one.Yes, Trevor? Silas said.Exactly how much infantry and armor would you like me to recruit?A battalion of each if you can, but no more than that at the moment. We cant

expand too quickly. Sevon nodded. He stared intently at the bulkhead. I may have alead on that," he said. I'll need to send a priority transmission, though.

No problem just don't bankrupt us, Silas said, laughing.Sevon smiled politely, wondering not for the first time, what the Drake brothers

reactions would be if they found out just how much money he had made for the unit now his home by scamming the local merchants in the regions the Demons foundthemselves in. With the mineral wholesalers office on Canal a gutted, burnt out ruin (itwas funny how the fire had started only after the fighting went by...shoddy construction,


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tsk, tsk ), no one would miss the ten tons of processed titanium now safely in the hold of the Raven ; then again, there was no need to let anyone know just how solvent theDemons really were.

What about aerospace fighters? Sevon asked.At least two. Preferably six, if they're available and we can afford it.

We can.Well, if no one has anything else... Silas began.Trisha shook her head. Paula has already transferred her people to the Raven ,

and all their gear was already aboard the Ritchie . Demon personnel generally lived verySpartan, having little to hold them down. We'll pack up the rest of the gear, and bring itwith us.

No one else having anything else, the meeting began breaking up. Johannescaught Sharon Buenaventuras arm. If its alright with you, Id like to send my first shoreleave rotation down with the Bustamontes .

Buenaventura was surprised and touched by the request. To be shown this level of trust this early in her association with the Demon's made her feel, for the first time in a

very long time, that she now had a home.Certainly, she said, with an honest, albeit devastating, smile. She then turnedand, with a new spring in her step, headed for the grav-decks hatch to the zero-g shaft.

Had she been telepathic, she would have had her hopes crushed. Johannes Drakedidn't trust her, her Captain Edwards and certainly not that Jakes person any furtherthan he could throw his hundred and fifty thousand ton ship. The seven men he wasputting aboard her ship were all experts in zero gravity combat, and all had survived atleast two boarding actions in the past. If she tried anything, they would seize the ship inan instant.

*~*~*~*

Personnel transfers complete, small craft swaps over, the Demons four dropshipsbegan burning towards Moriguchi Port. The Raven would continue charging her drivecore, a massive spine made of titanium and germanium suspended in liquid helium, andnearly a kilometer long, for two more days.

Once charged, Raven would begin its fourteen-week trip to Galatea, carrying itsfirst paying passengers: two Mule -class merchantmen, and a Condor -class infantrytransport, ferrying a Lyran infantry unit in transit.

The Golden Hind would do the same, but would always remain within a single30-light year Jump radius of Moriguchi for the remaining six months of the Demonscontract with the Commonwealth, ready to move the unit to a trouble spot quickly, if necessary.

Or evacuate them.


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44 September 9, 3020

Euschelus Downport Euschelus, Taurian Concordat

The Perhiphery

Victoria Norman silenced the transmit function of her comm unit, then savagelypunched her control console in frustration.

Too late. Again . The Tortuga pirates Mule -class dropships were going to escape,and there not one damned thing she could do about it.

The pirate dropships were burning hard for their Jumpship, sitting at a so-calledpirate point ( how appropriate , she thought acidly) just off the systems elliptical plane.Because of the relative lack of gravitational shear, every legitimate (and sane) Jumpshippilot entered a system at its zenith or nadir points (the relative top or bottom of asystem, opposite its sun). Emerging on a systems ecliptic plane, where the systemsplanets and asteroids could cause wild shifts in the ripples of gravity, was flat-out crazy.

Which was why the pirates did it.Because it was physically impossible to monitor every cubic kilometer of space,

Euschelus Home Guard battalions barely had time to mobilize before the pirates were onthe ground, burning and killing.

The pirates had had help. That , Colonel Norman knew with absolute certainty.The raiders had known exactly where to go. Commando teams had quickly seized thewarehouses nearest the ports merchant gates, the ones loaded with ores waiting only forthe dropships of their buyers to land for pickup. Other commando teams had droppeddirectly onto a pair of nearby hotels, whose underground shelters had been packed withterrified vacationers. The vast majority of those poor souls were now, undoubtedly,headed either for the mine-pits or pirate brothels of Tortuga, or the hell of the Port Krinslave markets.

It had been sheer coincidence that Vicky Normans First Battalion of the TaurianLancers Regiment had been recharging the drive of their Jumpship, the Gay Dravidian atCamadierre, one Jump out from Euschelus, when the Merchant -class Jumpship Kovacs

Revenge appeared off the Dravidians stern quarter, beaming a frantic All Ships! distress call.

When the Lancers had appeared at their own pirate point over Euschelus, theyhad dropped in a textbook rapid interface orbital combat assault, burning into theplanet's atmospheric envelope at almost two full Gs. The pirates, as soon as they pickedup her incoming Unions , had flamed the local university to obscure the port's landingzones, then waited until the Lancers were committed to approach vectors before lifting. Ithad been a tight squeeze, but they had slipped past the Lancers aerospace fighter supportand escaped.

Dear God, she thought, tears welling in her eyes. Nearly two thousand peoplegone, carted off like cattle. And we couldnt I couldnt stop them, or even slow themdown. Dear God!


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Weve GOT to change our strategy , she railed silently. Weve got to take thebattle to the enemy . But that wasnt likely to happen, she knew. Thomas Calderon,Protector of the Taurian Concordat, was obsessed by the thought of an invasion fromHanse Davions Federated Suns. So, the bulk of the Concordats mobile strike forcesremained tied down to garrisons along the politys borders with the Suns and with the

Capellan Confederation.Tiredly, she continued marching her old HBK-4G Hunchback toward thespaceport, signaling her command lance to keep an eye out for pirate commandos whostill lurked in the wreckage of the port, abandoned by their comrades but fighting to thedeath, since they knew that neither the Lancers nor the Home Guard would give themquarter. Distantly, she heard the sound of explosions and gunfire in the city beyond,where Home Guard units were wiping out the last pockets of pirate resistance there.

Damn it all to Hell and gone , she thought bitterly. We need a new plan.


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55 September 27, 3020

Office of the Protector Samanthaburg, Taurus

Taurian Concordat

Marshal Morton Grenadine, Commander of the Taurian Guard Corps, sighedheavily. Protector, I must agree with Marshal Derry. We must take the fight to thepirates. We simply cannot allow these attacks to continue.

Thomas Calderon, Protector of the Taurian Concordat, the most civilized of thestates in the Periphery, glared at his Marshal with his living eye. The faux-ruby sensorenhancer that had replaced the other, set in gold and silver, remained fixed, implacable unwavering. The other five men in the room al found it very disquieting.

"I am well aware of the correct strategy for dealing with these barbarians,gentlemen," the Protector said quietly; it was easy to see him seething. "And if there wereno other considerations, I most certainly would have already ordered the entire Guard toeradicate this vermin, and not to return until it was done, he said, voice low. But I willsay again, and for the last time, that the greatest current threat to the Concordat is theFederated Suns!

His voice began rising in volume: Diverting the units necessary to crush theTortugans permanently will leave us wide open to a Davion offensive. Auditor Jerrodspeople he said, indicating the only other man in the room dressed in civilian clothes,have detected clear signs CLEAR signs! his right index finger stabbed the air of highly abnormal units shifts in both the Kearney and Islamabad Combat Regions, as wellas the Warren PDZ.

Oolahn Jerrod, leader of the Red Phrygians, the Concordats highly efficientintelligence service, nodded imperceptibly, as if in agreement with the Protector;inwardly, he seethed. This fool only hears what he wants to hear , he thought . I told himthose shifts were towards the Capellan front!

Something had gotten Hanse Davion boiling after old Max Liaos blood, thoughtJerrod as Thomas droned on. Something to do with that strange business two years ago,when the Davion seemed hell-bent on making enemies out of the Lyrans. Now, he wasmarshaling his very considerable forces on a long arc, that would shift the bulk of hiscombat power against the Capellan state...Likely something deeper than his signingKatrina Steiners ceasefire agreement earlier in the year, on Terra, as Comstar watched.He snorted silently; then suddenly, a thought occurred to him he made a mental note tohave the New Avalon Division check up on the First Princes current romanticlife...Katrinas daughter might have been only ten, but Hanse wasnt old by any means,and betrothals-of-state at that age were not unheard of. Thomas voice was reaching itsheight; he was becoming dangerously paranoid as the years went by.

Not for the first time, the man known as Oolahn Jerrod wondered if he shouldretire the Protector.

The First and Second Corps are still dangerously under-strength, ThomasCalderon continued. The assembled Marshals knew this mood: it was lecture hour,


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what with the departure of the Blackguards and the Huscarles; likewise, ColonelBannockburns battalions are exhausted and need to rest and refit.

No thanks to you, Derry thought bitterly mercenary units lived either by richcontracts or by salvage and loot, and the Protector had insisted on keeping Blackie's

Blackguards and the Senlac Huscarles in garrison in quiet areas, leaving them no choice

but to look for greener pastures...And now, the relative outbreak of peace in the InnerSphere meant that the Blackguards had disbanded, since no one could afford to hiremulti-regiment mercenary units just now.

Im sorry gentlemen, Thomas said with finality but there is only room in thebudget to hire two replacement mercenary regiments, and they must go to strengthen theFirst and Second corps and no, Morton, I will not entertain forward-deploying theGuard.

Francis Derry looked pleadingly at Jerrod, hoping that he would say something,anything , to sway the Protector; Jerrod simply looked at Derry impassively Derryseemed to deflate in his chair. The exchange went unnoticed only by the Protector, asCalderon had risen from his chair, and begun to pace, favoring the leg injured in the

childhood hunting accident that had also cost him his eye. Lecture hour was once againa recitation of Federated Suns attacks on the Concordat throughout their two statestroubled history, and why that history forced the Protector to keep the military-industrial complex stoked to dangerous levels at the expense of the rest of theConcordat's economy.

Eventually, the meeting began to break up.

*~*~*~*

Francis Derry trudged gloomily towards the offices of the Third Corps, wonderingbitterly how he was going to look the civilians facing almost monthly pirate raids in theeye and tell them that no help was in sight . How in the hell am I supposed to protect our

frontier , he asked no one . I need another corps, and he won't give me a company!You know, Francis, said a voice at his elbow, startling him, sometimes, it

seems like we're building a causeway in the sea to ride our horses on, doesn't it? Derrytried to cover his startled reaction by studying Jerrods impassive face. What game wasthe spy playing? Im told, Jerrod continued airily, that Taurus Majoris has hit majorstrikes of nickel and chromium on Celentaro. I understand that they are trying to hire amerc regiment as guards. Oolahn Jerrods face remained impassive as he spoke, his eyescalmly staring straight ahead. Like Camadierre and Euschalus, Celentaro was in ThirdCorps area of operations.

No, Francis said slowly, I hadn't heard that at all. In fact, Taurus MajorisMining's Chief of Field Operations had told him just a week ago that they were planningto close their facilities on Celentaro, as they hadnt found anything on the desolate world.Suddenly, Derry's eyes widened as he registered Jerrod's left-handed jab at the Protector.Surely you don't think it's come to that? he asked, truly shocked.

Jerrod regarded Derry for a moment. He knew that among other things, Derryheld a doctorate in Ancient/Pre-Spaceflight Terran History from the Vandenburg


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Conservatory, which was why Jerrod had used that specific reference. Poor Francis , hethought, not unkindly, you should have been a schoolmaster.

I can assure you, Marshal, he said quietly, that Thomas Calderon may be manythings, but he will never be called Little Boots. Then, just as abruptly as he hadappeared, Derry found himself looking at Jerrod's back. He shuddered visibly, resolving

that whatever else he may do in this life, he would never make an enemy out of OolahnJerrod. In three otherwise totally innocuous sentences, Jerrod had thrown the people of Third Corps region a badly-needed even critical lifeline, pointedly making an end-run around the wishes of the Protector, and had not only compared the Protector to afabulously-deranged Roman Emperor, but had hinted at his possibly-violent removalfrom office.

The sheer, utterly cold ruthlessness in the mind that put that statement togetherwas terrifying .

As he resumed his journey to the Comstar Compound, Oolahn Jerrod focused a

portion of his mind on Francis Derry. Another pawn to the Cause , he gloated silently.And the painfully beautiful symmetry of the thing was that Derry didnt even know thathe was a pawn. Jerrod savored the irony: the thought that the Star Leagues most bitteropponent in the Periphery was going to be the instrument of its revival was epic, on analmost Homeric scale.

As long as no more accidents like the leak about the Celeano finds got out,the final success of the Orders plan for Humanity should only take another generation tocomplete.

Two, at most.


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66

September 2, 3020Galaport, Galatea

Isle of Skye Lyran Commonwealth

Trevor Sevon was frustrated. This in itself was unique. An ordinary person wouldhave looked at his situation and told him that he was in no trouble at all...Which was whyninety-nine percent of people never survived very long in business for themselves. Infact, Sevon was as close to sheer, blind panic as he had ever been.

On the surface, things indeed looked rosy. His troops recruitment efforts weresucceeding admirably, as he knew they would there was far too much talent on thebeach on Galatea for his efforts to have failed. As the Third Succession War finallysputtered to a close, mercenary contracts had begun to dry up temporarily, as the variouswarring states focused on repairing their infrastructures just enough to gird for the nextround of battle. Because of this many small, even medium-sized, mercenary units andany unit lacking a sound financial base had been forced to break up and hire out asindividuals, just to survive a dicey prospect on hot, dry Galatea.

As a result, finding six Dispossessed mechwarriors who met Silas rigid andunyielding standards was even easier than he had thought.

Warning Sign Number One .Finding six mech-drivers with their own vehicles had been more difficult he

was interviewing two candidates tonight, in fact, which would fill his bill but it had stillbeen easier than he had expected it would be.

Warning Sign Number Two .Warning Number Three that the Demons may have jumped the gun in not

renewing with the Commonwealth came when he closed a deal signing the remains of aKuritan armored battalion. Abandoned by Takashi Kuritas Draconis Combine after afailed raid on the Federated Suns world of Ozawa, the battalion's officers had committedseppuku ritual suicide to prove their loyalty to Coordinator Kurita. Their troops,being rather less fanatical, had stormed aboard a huge Triumph -class tank-transportingdropship and an Excalibur -class general military transport (grounded when theirJumpships left them there; their officers had also demonstrated their loyalty to theCoordinator) and their quick-witted sergeants and flight crews had bribed their way ontoa civilian Merchant -class Jumpship from the Outworlds Alliance using loot captured onOzawa, to carry them to Galatea, where they had arrived on July fifth.

Sevon had heard about the unit on his way in, but had assumed that they wouldhave been picked up by the time the Demon's advance party had landed. That they hadn'thad been was ominous.

Trevor had waited until August fifteenth to make his offer. The Combine NCOshad been almost pathetically grateful. According to Staff Sergeant Cordell, the NCOsactually seemed to care about what happened to their men, and had been terrified that


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they would be forced to break up to survive, as none of them had ever been off of Dieronin their lives, and didnt know what to do.

After hiring them, Sevon learned that offers had been made to buy their vehiclesand ship, but the Combine NCOs had been too smart to do that, although the crew of theirTriumph couldnt resist shipping for the Free Worlds League. The NCOs had ended up

selling off fifteen of their most-damaged vehicles, which allowed them to feed theirtroops meagerly and pay rent on a dilapidated warehouse.The icing on the cake was when he and Paula Cordell were having dinner in a

riverfront restaurant two days after hiring the Kuritans. Sitting next to their table were agroup of people who turned out to be four aerospace pilots and the captain and first mateof an Excalibur -class dropship. They were discussing their current unemployment woes the dropship captain was glumly of the mind that the Durendel could probably make endsmeet hauling cargoes, although that was a shame to do to a fine warship.

No gods in the universe, Sevon knew, were this kind. With this much talent andresources on the beach, finding a contract for the Demon's looked increasingly hard.

But Trevor soldiered on he only hoped that Silas had a plan.

Never having hired infantry before, Trevor was initially inclined to hire completeplatoons and companies, on the strength that those units would have a high level oninternal pride and esprit de corps. Staff Sergeant Cordell who Trevor was pleased tosee taking a more active roll in the process, as his complete lack of real militaryexperience was painfully apparent, at least to himself immediately vetoed the idea. As aformer grunt in the Marik Militia, Cordell turned out to know a great deal more aboutinfantry than Trevor had suspected existed.

To Paula, any unit larger than a twelve-man squad wouldnt be worth their bootsas a unit had they been, they would have been snapped up long ago by someone aHouse, another merc unit, even a corporation needing heavy security. That such a unithad not been meant that they had some bad juju , as she put it, which jinxed their collective . Far better, she advised, to recruit infantry as individuals, run them throughstandardized tests to check for ability, then train them hard, but together, to allow them tobuild their own traditions.

Since that was a better explanation than any he had, Trevor placed her in chargeof hiring the infantry and armor crews, while he negotiated billeting and weaponscontracts. They had soon recruited about three hundred troops, in addition to theKuritans. It was at this point that Ranjit Singh Bahadur entered the picture.

Awaiting Trevor at the Demons poste restante box at the MercenaryRegulatory Commission were a number of messages from Silas Drake and AndrewGunderson. Trevor had expected this, but it was one message in particular from CaptainGunderson that peaked his interest. The captain's message stated that a certain officer bythe name of Ranjit Singh Bahadur could likely be located in he Amritsar section of Galaport, likely working in a computer repair shop. Trevor was to hire him at the rank of Major and was empowered to offer him a leftenant-colonelcy if he asked for it.

Nothing else no qualifications, no resume...simply Hire this man for whatever he asks.

The next day, Trevor had made his way into one of the civilian districts of Galaport. Peopled by immigrants descended from Terra's Indian Subcontinent, they were


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very friendly and helpful, and he quickly tracked down Mr. Bahadur , as he thought of him.

While in college, Trevor had taken a unit in comparative religions, so he was notcompletely blindsided when Mr. Bahadur turned out to be a tall, swarthy man, clearly amember of the Sikh faith, who appeared to be in his late forties with a ferocious-looking

demeanor and a chest-length beard; from the style of dress he wore, Trevor guessed thathe had taken the oath of the Khalsa Trevor could not remember the names of all theidentifying items, but he knew that they were referred to collectively as the Five Ks.

Ranjit Singh Bahadur, despite his fierce appearance, was actually quite kind andgentle and a most gracious host. He insisted on serving Trevor handmade chai tea whilethey talked, albeit briefly. Trevor, for once unsure of how to proceed, decided to play itstraight and simply told Ranjit that he had received a message from Andrew Gunderson,who had told him to offer him a commission in the Demon's at the rank of Major,although Trevor could negotiate higher. Ranjit had nodded, and simply said Andrew ismost gracious.

Taking that as acceptance, Trevor had asked if Ranjit had any paperwork that

Trevor could use in building a file-template for the Demons soon-to-be AdministrativeDivision. Ranjit had smiled, as if getting some private joke, but rose and returned with aComstar-notarized copy of his AFFS 'service record book. Thanking him for the tea,Trevor told him to please report to the riverfront warehouse where the Demons werecurrently housed on-planet at his convenience.

The next morning, as Trevor was returning from breakfast at a wildly popularmom-n-pop across the street from the warehouse billet, he heard a tremendous racketcoming from within. Upon entering, he found Ranjit Singh Bahadur dressed in the fielduniform of an AFFS officer, sans rank insignia standing in the center of the warehouseroaring orders in a voice that seemed to make the world itself tremble. The Kuritantankers, as well as he newly-hired infantry, were all rushing about in wild patterns,cleaning, straightening things, laying out some gear while packing more...Trevor wasnon-pulsed: he had never seen anything like it.

When he finally found Staff Sergeant Cordell in the anteroom to his office, shewas grinning so widely, he thought she would need surgery to correct the grin. She hadthen kissed Trevor full on the lips, surprising him even more. That man is the nearest thing to God on this city block, Trevor, she had said with a smile.

When Trevor finally sat down in his office and started to read Ranjit Singh's file( Bahadur was a common honorific in Hindi/Punjabi, it meant, roughly, NoteworthyPerson ) after putting it off the day before, in a most uncommon for him manner, hehad gagged on his coffee.

At age fifty-five, Ranjit Singh had been a Colonel in the Capellan March Militia,and had been in battalion or regimental command slots for over twenty years all of them in armored units. He had been decorated with nearly every military award theArmed Forces of the Federated Suns (the AFFS) could give, many of them more thanonce. While posted to the New Syrtis CMM on the world of Oltepasi three years ago,however, he had apparently made an enemy out of Michael Hasek-Davion, Duke of NewSyrtis and Minister of the Capellan March. Duke Michael had forced Ranjit Singhsretirement, and made certain that his legal team found enough reason to deny a pension tohim; his appeal to New Avalon was still pending.


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Knowing that Captain Gunderson was from the Federated Suns as well, Trevorassumed that he still had friends, and had found out about Colonel Singh. Obviously,then, Gunderson had plans for a real armored force...so Trevor Sevon would get him one.

Using Ranjits contacts on-planet, Trevor had located Martin Shearer, anindependent arms merchant who had chosen precisely the wrong time to try and make

some sales to mercenary units: he was in Business Hell , sitting on a regiments worth of combat vehicles with no customers and not enough cash to get off-planet.Trevor had taken Ranjit Singh to see Shearer, who was actually living in one of

his armored personnel carriers to avoid hotel bills and still pay for some rent-a-copsecurity. Trevor had told Ranjit that he, Trevor, was along as the wallet Ranjit neededto make the decision on any vehicles purchased. Ranjit was more than happy to oblige.

By the time they left the yard, the Demons had acquired twenty Quiksell Hetzer Assault Guns , twelve Saladin and twenty-four Scimitar hover tanks, both made byScarborough Industries, as well as several dozen Stirling Rover light trucks and anassortment of support vehicles, and all at a discount that still left Shearer with a profit,which was far better than he had hoped for. He had promised and kept his word to get

them discounts on ammunition stocks.Rather satisfied with their success, Trevor had a moment of panic the nextmorning as he researched the vehicles they had just purchased. While the Hunters ,Saladins and Scimitars all had very good to ecstatic reviews, the Hetzer was one of the most-panned vehicles in the military-industrial press: poor construction, shoddyworkmanship and no secondary weapons. The only good point was its primary weapon,the Crusher Super-Heavy Cannon , which could wreck a medium battlemech in one burst all of the reviews stated that the weapon would be better deployed on a differentchassis.

When Ranjit Singh had returned with the vehicles, Trevor had met with himprivately, showed him the reviews on the Hetzer , and voiced his concerns. Singh hadpatiently explained that, while he was fully aware of the Hetzers poor reputation infact, he was counting on that poor reputation he told Trevor that the reviews were allwritten by pundits who had never actually fought from the vehicle. With the right trainingattitude and support, he said, a four-vehicle Hetzer platoon virtually negated anybattlemech then in operation.

At the same meeting, Ranjit had told him that there was a severe overcrowdingissue in the warehouses, especially with the four mechwarriors with their own machinesand the Dispossessed pilots, as well as the vehicles...something had to be done. Ranjitthen suggested that he should "have a chat" with the Galatea Merchant Association'sVisiting Military Units Relations Board about "more suitable quarters"...

It was after this meeting that Trevor, his confidence somewhat renewed, returnedto his hotel room to meet with his last two mechwarrior candidates who had their ownmachines.

*~*~*~*


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When the knock sounded at his door, Sevon called out Come!The door opened to admit two men, both carrying briefcases. Both stood just

under two meters in height, although one was a centimeter or two taller than the other.The taller of the two seemed familiar. The tall one quickly stuck out his hand and smiled.Clayton Michaels he said.

Ah, that's it, thought Trevor. Yes, I remember you, he said, returning the shake.I saw some of your fights on Solaris. You fought in an Enforcer , correct?Yep, Michaels said cheerfully, the Lindi carried me all the way through.Nodding, Trevor turned to the other man. And you are? he said, offering his

hand.Jason Carnarvon, the man replied, perfunctorily returning the shake. I drive a

Fire Javelin .They all sat at the table in Sevon's room. Im sorry, Sevon said, but Ive never

heard of a Fire Javelin .Its a Javelin where the SRMs are replaced with a pair of medium lasers. Not

very talkative, Sevon thought.

Well, Mr. Michaels, Sevon said, formally beginning the interview. I am well-versed in your piloting and gunnery skills. May I se a resume?In answer, Michaels drew from his briefcase two folders. Within, Trevor was

impressed to see a pair of verigraphs tamper-proof documents, specially sealed at thetime of creation so that any attempt at tampering would ruin the documents within. Onewas a brief on Michaels background in the AFFS, the other a certified record of hisperformance on Solaris VII; both carried the Comstar Notary Seal of Authenticity .

I am impressed, Mr. Michaels, he said, but I must ask for the reason youresigned your commission seven years ago.

Michaels got a distant look on his face. Let's say, he said after a moment, that Iwas deemed politically unreliable... Trevor's eyebrows went up. Michaels shrugged. Iwas found to be more loyal to Hanse Davion than Michael Hasek.

Sevon carefully noted the insult against the Duke of New Syrtis by dropping theDavion from his name, Michaels was boldly stating that the Duke was no Davion.

And you, Mr. Carnarvon, he said, turning to the other man, who had producedhis own resume. It says here that you were a lance commander in the Marik Militia until3014. May I ask why you resigned?

Carnarvon shrugged. I fought for the wrong Marik, he said simply.Ah, Trevor thought. He and Paula would get along well. She too, had fought for

Anton Marik in his failed rebellion against his brother, Captain-General Janos Marik. Alot of mercenaries had come out of that war.

Well, gentlemen, Trevor said, Let me copy these, and I think that we can callyou Demons, he said with a smile. Michaels returned it; Carnarvon at least attempted tolook impressed. Handing them back their documents, Sevon said Please report toLieutenant Cordell at our warehouse billet in the morning. She will get you squaredaway. Both men nodded, and left. Where had that come from? Trevor wondered. Hehad never used what he thought of as casual military jargon in all his time in theDemons...Must be Major Singh, he thought with a grin.

It was only then that he realized that he had just commissioned Staff SergeantCordell. After a moments thought, he doubted that Silas Drake would mind.


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77 December 8, 3021, 0835 hours

Gamma Company HeadquartersCamp Margarita

Camp Pendleton Basing FacilityGalatea, Isle of Skye

Lyran Commonwealth

Andrew Gunderson stood silently, sipping his favorite coffee (an Arabica-Pecanblend from his homeworld, Abbeville, on the Federated Suns' Rim) watching from hisoffice window as Paula Cordell worked the new troops though yet another round of close-order drill. Many civilians thought the archaic practice a pointless exercise inmachismo, but it served many purposes simultaneously: it got the troops accustomed totaking orders from specific leaders, got them used to working together as a team, andbuilt a sense of pride when everything came together, as forty pairs of combat bootsslammed down on the parade deck with one voice.

More prosaically, he thought wryly, it gave potential employers an easy yardstick to judge the abilities of a unit. It was completely insensible, but, as Machiavelli had saidin The Prince so many centuries ago, ...all men have eyes and can therefore see. Yet, notall men have the ability to reason. Therefore, appearance is everything...

Bugger all , he thought with annoyance, I guess I cant put this off any longer .Turning to his desk, he sat down and quickly scanned the file before him. Most of DavidWilsons mech-drivers were reasonably competent, once they dried out and lost theirhunted look. He had left most of his problem children on Butte Hold. This kid,however, was the only real one remaining, and Silas, Wilson and he had decided thatputting him into a new environment might help. Addy had taken the kid on to help outWilson, but he had an ulterior motive.

Kid . Richard Garvey was in his thirties, but he was what some sociologists wouldhave called a man-child Garvey was more boy than man, and it showed in his file.

Gunderson put on his "command face" and pressed his intercom. Come, was allhe said.

His office door opened, and he heard the muffled voice of Jason Carnarvon say,Report to the Colonel. Richard Garvey entered the room, and attempted to march to aplace ten paces in front of Gunderson's desk; Carnarvon stepped in silently and stoodwith his back to the door. Garvey stopped, and came to what he likely thought was asemblance of the position of attention. R-Richard Garvey, Report-ting as ordered. Sir !

Uneven , thought Gunderson, but Garvey was trying. He sighed visibly. Mister Garvey, he began. Captain Wilson and Leftenant Stilson he

emphasized Stilson's Federated Suns rank have been very diligent in getting theHussar's records into Demon format. Since you have been assigned to Gamma, you arenow my responsibility. Gunderson watched Garvey's face carefully good: the kid wasstarting to sweat. He likely thought that he knew what was about to happen.

He was wrong.


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Gunderson shifted slightly in his chair. Your piloting scores are average, hesaid, as are your gunnery skills. On the other hand, he turned a page in Garvey's file,while not taking his eyes from him, you were booted from Hanson's Roughriders fordereliction of duty. Then , you were booted from Smithsons Chinese Bandits forinsubordination. And, while your scores are... passing is the most polite term...there are

plenty of potential pilots on the beach with better scores. Garvey was trying to bear up,but was starting to fail he looked like he was certain Gunderson was going to kick himto the curb. Gunderson continued relentlessly.

Cap excuse me, MAJOR Wilson, likes you, though, in spite of your issues. Asdoes Leftenant Stilson, who argued quite strongly in your favor. I respect Major Wilsonhighly, and I am gaining in respect for Leftenant Stilson.

Neither are the reasons for what I am about to do to you. He paused, spearingGarvey with a ferocious glare that made the young mechwarrior quail visibly. You see,

Mister Garvey, your brother and I are acquaintances, from his days in the Heavy Guards.I have a great deal of respect for your brother so much, in fact, that I am going to cutyou some slack.

Unless you walk out that gate on your own, I will give you exactly fourteen daysto prove to Captain Carnarvon that you have what it takes to not be a complete screw-up.You will do whatever is asked of you, as soon as it is asked of you. Screw up, or fail toimpress Captain Carnarvon, and you will be dropped off with your gear at the door of theSuns consulate in Galaport. Period. You are the fourth son of a planetary noble theConsulate will cover a ticket home.

However, whether you walk out of here on your own or because you failed, youwill do so without your Wasp .

Garvey looked like hed been punched. Good , Addy thought, wake-up time . S-sir? Garvey stammered.

Gunderson nodded. I am from Abbeville, way out in the Kilbourne PDZ. I haveclose, personal experience with the reasons for planetary militias to maintain mechforces, Mister Garvey, and I will not see your home deprived of even a light mech chassisto feed your thrill-rides. At the Demons expense, I am having your Wasp repaired tolike-new condition...Then, also at the Demon's expense, I am sending it back to yourbrother, along with a note that you wanted to try for a fresh start that should cover youif you drop the ball. You will be assigned one of the Stingers we captured on Canal;Captain Carnarvon is an IP Instructor Pilot and is infinitely better qualified to trainyou than pretty much every other instructor you have ever had, including your brother.

As I said, you can walk out those gates at any time without your mech.Galaport is only thirty kilometers from here, and there is a train station in Carlsbad. TheConsulate is four blocks up from the Galaport station, on the right-hand side of the street.However walk out those gates, and you will end your career as a mechwarrior at thatinstant, as no one else will touch you with a ten-meter cattle prod...although your brothermay take pity on you, and allow you to pilot the Wasp again.

Garvey stood very still; for a moment just a moment Addy thought Garveywould freak out and try to attack him. Instead, Garvey straightened into a reasonablefacsimile of attention. S-Sir Yes Sir! he tried to bark it, but it squeaked. There wasa little of the Garvey brains in there, after all , Addy thought.


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88 January 30, 3021, 0835 hours

Drakes Demons HeadquartersCamp Margarita

Camp Pendleton Basing FacilityGalatea, Isle of Skye

Lyran Commonwealth

The Camp Pendleton Basing Facility had begun as temporary housing fortransient Star League Marines training in the Hruskan Badlands to the north of Galaport.(Confusingly, the now-Federated Suns planet Quentin had had an identically named basefor the SLMC.) Based on the design of an ancient military complex on Terra, the facilitywas divided into several smaller sub-camps. Each sub-camp was capable of housing acombined-arms regiment: there were parking slots for up to forty battlemechs in theirown repair shed, up to four hundred vehicles, several six hundred person-capacitybarracks and some limited officer housing. There was a small exchange, a dispensary,several armories and warehouses, in addition to several vehicle garages, and a mess hallcapable of feeding up to a thousand people at a time.

Camp Margarita was one such sub-camp. In addition to the normal facilities,Margarita was considered a prime base area because of its proximity to additionaltraining facilities. Two kilometers to the northwest, there was a known-distance infantryrifle range with one hundred-fifty targets; just to the east of that, facing 90 away from it,was what appeared to be a battle-scarred town. In fact, it was a purpose-built combattown, used for limited urban-warfare training. Four kilometers to the south layHenderson Field, where mercenary air wings based their craft while aboard CampPendleton. A little to the south of Henderson Field, across Krulak Way, lay the ChappoFlats Maintenance, Warehouse and Transshipment Area ; a maglev rail line passedthrough this area, allowing units to receive shipments of vehicles and mechs fromGalaport.

Ten kilometers to the east of Chappo Flats lay Mainside , the Basing Facilitysadministrative area. In addition to Base Offices, there were mess halls, unit-scale laundryfacilities, theaters, restaurants and a small shopping mall. Mainside also housed the John

Basilone Battle Training Facility a complex of former warehouses converted to housebattlemech and aerospace fighter simulators. The complex could train, in coordination, upto five hundred pilots at once. In an era where battlemechs and aerospace fighters werehusbanded carefully until needed, training on simulators was the most economicalmethod for getting entire units to work in concert, which was an important considerationfor mercenary units that had no massive state continuously funding them.

After the Star League collapsed, the old worlds of the Terran Hegemony theStar Leagues heart were some of the most fought-over in human history. Galatea wasno different; the world had long ago been stripped of useful League-grade equipment.The buildings, however, mostly remained.

One hundred and fifty years before, at the height of the Second Succession War,the planetary government of Galatea declared itself independent of the Lyran


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Commonwealth, and a world open for commerce. Claudius Steiner, theCommonwealths mad dictator of the day, was said to have laughed hysterically at thedeclaration, then ignored it, assuming that the government would simply collapse. Thelocal government had other ideas.

The Galatea Merchant Administration (the GMA) opened their world to the

burgeoning mercenary market, and in short order, had a larger garrison force than everycapitol world in the Inner Sphere, combined. Both the Lyran Commonwealth and theother Successor Houses allowed Galatea to exist by default, as it had proven to be anecessary release valve in the increasingly vital interstellar mercenary market.

One of the main features that made the market so profitable was the GMA'slimited rebuilding of old League facilities, like Camp Pendleton. For a comparativelyreasonable fee, mercenary units could have a reasonably well equipped and safe barracksarea to rest and refit in. This put idle facilities to profitable use, improved safety inGalateas inhabited zones by keeping most mercs from living on the streets between jobs,and gave the mercs a measure of security.

Silas Drake had begun, just prior to the Canal fight, to get an idea of just how

much money the Demons had in reserve when he looked over Trevor Sevons books onMoriguchi. Silas had doubled as the Adjutant for the 19th Lyran Guards for a time, sincehe had a BA in Accounting from Tharkad University.

When the newly enlarged Demon's arrived at Galatea, Silas had found thatAddys choice of Ranjit Singh Bahadur had been inspired, to say the least. Singhs familywas descended from the original colonists of Galatea almost a thousand years before.Those not serving in mercenary units or House armies worked in the military electronicsand computer industry, repairing and hand-building systems for units from acrossinhabited space.

Singh had pointedly gotten Trevor moving on snapping up the Margarita space. Intruth, Silas loved this place it was actually superior to any training or basing facility hehad seen outside of the Naglering or the Guards kaserne on Tharkad.

What he truly liked about the place, though, was the secure conference facilities.The main regimental conference rooms were windowless, and buried under heavyferrocrete and steel. With flags and crest purchased from a local supplier, it almost lookedas if the Demons were a permanent garrison, here. They were perfect for holdingconfidential meetings, like the one Silas and Addy were about to have.

Martin Dresher was the representative for the Taurus Majoris Mining Companyfrom the Taurian Concordat state in the Periphery. Beggars cant be choosers, Silasthought there were simply no major House contracts out there, right now, and asreasonable as the rent on Camp Margarita was, the Demons couldnt afford it forever.Silas wouldnt even have entertained Martin Dresher five years before, for the damagebeing reduced to Periphery work would do to the Demons then-fragile reputation.

Dresher was a non-descript-looking fellow, the epitome of the graybusinessman. He had been met at the gate by Trevor Sevon and Paula Cordell, and beenconducted into the conference room. Silas and Addy were waiting for him, dressed in theDemon's new dress uniforms. After the obligatory handshakes and pleasantries, Dresherhelped himself to a chair.

Time to get down to business. Well, Mr. Dresher, what can the Demons do foryou, today? Silas asked.


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Well, Colonel, Dresher began, in a surprisingly deep voice for his spare frame,TMM as been operating a mining operation on Celentaro for several years, with littlesuccess. Recently...well, weve hit a major strike. Were concerned over the fact thatthere have been frequent and violent pirate raids on the Concordat for several years.TMM would like to hire the Demon's to...resolve the issue...

Gunderson arched an eyebrow. Forgive me, Mr. Dresher, but the Concordat hasa highly capable military that is more than capable of handling pirate raiders. Even if there were more pressing concerns, well, I apologize, but it needs to be asked for theDemons sake why is TMM hiring us, and not the Concordat?

Dresher had a tight look in his eyes. The Protector has determined that theFederated Suns are more of a threat to the Concordat at the moment than the depredationsof Paula Trevaline, he said, referring to the Bandit Queen of the Tortuga Dominions. Itwas clear that Dresher considered the Protectors lack of action to be completely beneathcontempt.

Silas waited, letting Addy take the lead. The Concordat was nowhere near theCommonwealth, and he had only an academic knowledge of them.

Gunderson, however, was actually not in a much better position. Although theConcordat and the Suns had a long and troubled history, his primary focus had alwaysbeen on the Suns Draconis Front. Still, he had written an unpublished paper on the

Malagrotta Affair , from the early days of the Star League, so he felt that he could wing it.May I ask, then, what exactly it is that TMM requesting of us?

We are willing to pay you triple the normal rate to kill Paula Trevaline, anddestroy her merry band, Dresher rumbled. TMM makes no claim to any salvagewhatsoever whatever you find is yours, as far as we are concerned. We dont want theirstolen loot. We dont want their mechs. We dont want their ships. We dont want theirworlds.

We want them dead .


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99

February 10, 3021Office of Blessed ExaminationComstar Compound, Galaport

Galatea, Isle of Skye, Lyran Commonwealth

In her minds eye, Demi-Precentor Omicron Theta VI Janesheia Ward sat downon a rocky outcrop, overlooking a pristine valley, untouched by Human hands. In hermind, she assumed a full-lotus position, and then steadied her inner self.

In the real, physical world of her office, the ROM agent leaned back in her chairand steepled her fingers, regarding the spray of papers before her.

Curious .Officially listed as transient personnel, having arrived three months earlier, she

was not required to present her credentials to the planetary government of Galatea...Which was good, considering that her function here was that of a spy. As atrained cryptanalyst, as well as a general analyst, Janesheia alternated duties with hercounterparts to avoid burnout; additionally the Gnomes, as her team was called withinROM, never stayed at a station for very long, to avoid becoming attached to stationpersonnel, since the Gnomes other duty was to call in the Office of RighteousDeterminations if their agents found heresy at a station.

The message before Janesheia was taxing her abilities, hence her meditations.Normally, message traffic came across her desk only when the normal decryption

programs failed. Ninety-nine times out of a hundred, it was someone who thought thatthey were a professional code-maker. Cracking those codes made for an interestingdiversion. This message, however, was one of the very few that posed a problem.

Comstars ability to fully promulgate the Vision of the Blessed Blake lived andbreathed on the ability to interpret high-level communications. As a consequence of thenature of Galatea, the Comstar facility here used decryption algorithms equaled only bythe stations on the capitol worlds of the various Successor States, and those in the ROMcomputers buried beneath Kinshasa-Stanleyville on Terras African continent, not farfrom her birthplace in the city of Kampala.

Messages being sent that Comstar could not decode were of great importance.Janesheia mentally reviewed what she knew. The message had been sent as a First

Priority, and paid for in cash by an officer of a mercenary unit called Drakes Demons,for sending to New Avalon, capitol world of the Federated Suns, to a contact known to bea Suns Ministry of Intelligence and Information Operations (the highly competent anddreaded MIIO) courier. It took up a single sheet of paper on printout. Five columns of number groups, six digits to a group, all numbers, no letters or nomenclators. Janesheiahad casually tried some truly simple cipher guesses, to no effect; if quantum cryptanalysisdidnt crack the cipher, she likely couldnt.

That told her that it was likely composed of multiple layers of encipherment, andequally likely, employed both a form of book code and a form of one-time pad,which would make it functionally uncrackable, without the exact copy of the book used


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(it was incredibly hard virtually impossible, in fact to distribute codebooks acrossinterstellar distances, but using one-time ciphers based on lines from unmodified classicalworks made life infinitely easier for intelligence agents).

A thought began to form in the back of her mind...Janesheia could almost see themessage author at work: he likely used a modified polyalphabetic Vigenre square with a

copy of...oh, say, Huckleberry Finn. He would encipher his plaintext using a line fromTwains novel as the keyword which would be as long as the message itself thenshove that through an ADFGX-like cipher, then through a numerical version of theADFGX, resulting in a series of five-number groups. He would then insert an extranumber into each group at a specific place a so-called null character. For addedsecurity, he could make entire rows or columns be nulls, and might change the languagein his plaintext in mid-sentence.

The beauty in the system lay in that he never need enclose a key to decrypt hismessages: the sender was an officer of a well-known and -regarded mercenary unit, andcould be expected to send messages in code. The recipient would simply know to look upthe sender's name in his agency's protected files section to obtain the algorithm and the

specific books being used......Janesheia opened her eyes, and reached for the Demons file folder. Janesheiawas annoyed that no one in the stations ROM section had apparently slated the file forreview; it had taken the stations archivists an unacceptably long time to assemble thedata. A unit that had expanded this quickly should have been prioritized much higher.

Drakes Demons : Started as a simple mech company, albeit one ideally suited forraiding and fast reaction, since it had its own Jumpship and dropships, in early 3012;owned and operated b

drakes demons

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