OBERON

[Guardsman]

MAKE READY

PALACE OF VERSAILLES, KENNEDY BEACH
OBERON VI, OBERON CONFEDERATION
10 February 3010

     The doors slid open and two men walked through.
     â€œThe man is a lecherous old fool! He has all day to satisfy his needs, but what of the needs of his people? We don’t need to – ah. What’s the use” said the first man in a booming voice that echoed through the hallway.
     â€œIs it wise to give voice to such passion” quietly replied his companion in a soft tone.
     â€œHe wouldn’t dare!”
     The soft spoken man stopped in his walk, and dropped his voice to a whisper, “are you so certain that your position is secure?”
     â€œYes, for now. But,” he paused after having put some distance between them, “your point is well taken, Ben.”
     The pair began walking again, turning a corner, and heading into an elevator.
     â€œI do not mean to trouble an already troubled mind, but these are precarious times. And,” shooting a quick look towards the doors they had passed through, “his temper knows no bounds.”
     â€œYou’re right, of course. And we do have a mission to prepare for. Although, sometimes, I think it would be nice if I did live up to my family’s reputation.”
     â€œIs is because you do not live up to your family’s reputation that we would follow you into fire and –“ but he was cut off by a raised hand.
     â€œWe will speak no more on this issue. We have our assignment and we will complete it, no matter how much we may disagree with it.”
     Stepping out of the elevator, the pair walked through the foyer, crossing a giant circular disc bearing a single reptilian eye, and then through glass doors held open by uniformed men. A black hover vehicle waited for them outside, the soft hum of its engine a constant noise in the background.
     Once inside, their conversation continued. “Have you given any thought towards our target, sir?”
     â€œI am not too concerned about our target or objective. We’ll get the goods. That’ll be easy enough. The problem is ensuring that there are no reprisals.”
      “Well, if we strike deep enough into the rift, we could always paint our ‘Mechs black, and pretend we’re the Black Warriors?”
     â€œAnd if the Black Warriors get wind of our deception?”
     â€œSir, we’re contemplating an incursion into the Lyran Commonwealth and you’re concerned about some pirates getting uppity over us borrowing their colours?”
     â€œEven so, why risk making us a common enemy?” There is a pause in the conversation as the cliché goes unspoken, but not forgotten.
     â€œClearly, pulling off this assignment is going to take more than the usual preparation. But we’ll manage it, somehow.”
     â€œDon’t we always?”
     â€œOf course we do, sir. Of course we do.”

[Guardsman]

RIVER SPRINGS COMMUNITY CENTRE, KENNEDY BEACH
OBERON VI, OBERON CONFEDERATION
10 February 3010

     One arm emerged from the water, curving up in an arc, and then returning to its watery depths. Then the other arm came up, following along the same trajectory. The woman raised her head above the water, to take in a deep breath. As she approached the edge of the pool, she began to turn inside the water, pushing off against the wall, and heading back towards the other side. Stalking parallel to the pool, along its edge, a pair of military boots trudged along, their wearer admiring the young woman’s form.
     Upon completing her laps, the woman grabbed onto the edge of the pool, and found her hand had reached for the boot. She instantly recoiled, and began treading water as she lifted the goggles up and onto her head. Looking up, she exclaimed in recognition “Ash! What are you doing here?” Her tone was accusatory.
     Slow and methodical in speech, with each word chosen carefully, “Admiring the view I am presently blessed with.”
     She spun about rapidly in the water, debating how to get out without going past him. “Don’t you have somewhere to be?”
     Holding a hand in his defence, as he continued to block the most obvious exit from her current predicament, “Oh no, the General has seen fit to release me from my duties for the day.”
     â€œLucky me” she said sarcastically.
     â€œOn the contrary Vanessa, it is I who is lucky the lucky one, to behold your beauty.” And mercifully, he stepped aside, allowing her to climb out of the pool. As she climbed however, he leered at her.
     She immediately went for a towel, deftly wrapping it around her body. “Look, I get that you like me Ashley, and I’m flattered, but the feeling is not mutual, and even if it were, I’m involved.”
     Placing a hand to his heart, in mock injury, and taking a step back, “Oh, you wound me. I will retire to recover from my wounds, and reconsider my strategy.”
     She thought about saying something more, but since he began to depart, she left it at that, feeling a violet shudder run its course through her being.

[Guardsman]

DURANT BATTLEMECH FORCE BASE, KENNEDY BEACH
OBERON VI, OBERON CONFEDERATION
12 February 3010

     The panel squeaked and squealed as it lifted up and open, revealing the circuitry that lay dormant beneath. A short greasy man with curly hair and equally impressive mutton chops slid a simple rod, coated in plastic, to keep the panel open. He shone a handheld flashlight into the depths of the panel.
     â€œMmm, hmm. Here’s the problem” said the greasy technician upon spotting a small section of cable that had stretched and torn on both sides, but was still taut.
     Rising above his shoulder, a thin black man added, “That’s the primary power cable for the ‘Mechs hydraulic stabilisers.”
     The greasy technician raised a single eyebrow, and turned his head to the side.
     â€œI read the manual” continued the taller man.
     The shorter man shut off his flashlight, and turned from the gantry, and knelt down, opening a large, square plastic case. He rummaged around for a few minutes, and as he did, his sleeve inadvertently wiped some of the grease stains on his technician overalls to reveal the word “Woolly”, which was stitched across his left breast.
     Staring down at Woolly, the taller man declared, “Whatever you’re up to, it won’t work.”
     Finding a piece of cable, which didn’t look to be the right gauge, or, after he cut it open, even the right colour inside, he smiled, “Thanks fer the words o’ encouragement.”
     The taller man, whose patch revealed his name as Collins, pointed at the open panel, “That is a proprietary carbon-mesh.” When he brought his finger accusingly around to point to what Woolly held in his hand, he added, “And that’s just a chopped up piece of extension cord!”
     Woolly put a screwdriver between his teeth, and he worked to attach a black and grey square shaped object to the cord. He mumbled, “Have ye a little faith, lad,” although to hear it, he might have given a recipe for tomato soup.
     Removing the screwdriver from his mouth, Woolly held it out to Collins, who reluctantly took it with his thumb and middle finger. Woolly then placed the flashlight in his mouth and leaned over the open panel. He had to push off against the gantry, working to get the leverage he needed. Without pulling back, he asked, “Would ye mind powering ‘er up. I tink I may have it.”
     Collins mumbled, “It won’t work!” but he began climbing further up the gantry, heading into the cockpit. A few minutes later, the whole thing shook and rumbled as the BattleMaster’s systems came on line. Collins tried to raise the left leg, but nothing happened.
     Swearing, or at least that’s what Collins interpreted the gestures as, he watched in awe as the old technician hit the panel with a spanner. He was still trying to raise the leg, and when it finally did, the ‘Mechs knee came up, and banged into the undercarriage of the gantry.
     Looking out of the cockpit, Collins could see Woolly hanging onto the railing with one hand, and he didn’t need any help interpreting the gesture he gave with his free hand.

[Guardsman]

HODGSON BATTLEMECH FORCE BASE, HUNTINGTON
CRELLACOR, OBERON CONFEDERATION
13 February 3010

     Arms held aloft, fingers linked, cradling his head, chair leaned back, and feet on the console, Redjack could not look more relaxed. Although he wore the uniform of an Oberon Guardsman, he could have easily fallen asleep in his current state.
     Towards his left, a female guardsman stood at another console, eyes fixed on the information it was feeding her.
     The young woman spoke first, breaking through the silence, “The Commonwealth must have a weakness.”
     Eyes closed, the man responded, “You worry too much Maria. We’ll find a way, we always do.”
     She frowned, looking over at him, “We’d better.”
     But he just continued on, “But then again, maybe we won’t. In which case the Commonwealth will overrun the Confederation, slaughter every man woman and child, and set up colonies, and sell coffee, and computers, and whatever else they want to sell.”
      “Funny, real funny there Redjack.” He finally clamoured to his feet, nearly falling out of the chair, but managing to right himself with a deft right hand, which he used to push off against the floor, and flip himself back up to his feet.
     Moving around her, he said, “That being the case, I think it’s our duty to make sure that the Confederation survives, right? So why don’t we take a small ship, head out into the Deep Periphery, find a nice, habitable planet, a real Garden of Eden place, and repopulate the Confederation?”
      “I think I’d rather marry a Lyran!” she nearly spat out.
     Reaching into his belt, he picked up a ration pack, “All right, next time I see one, I’ll tell him to send over chocolates and flowers. Oh well, so much for being Adam and Eve. It’s your loss . . .” He opened the pack, and was about to pour it down his gullet.
      “Adam and Eve,” the monitor he had been ignoring came to life, an image of Hendrik Grimm III appeared on screen.
      “Ah, General Grimm, I was just –“ but he was cut off again by the General.
      “Very amusing, I think you would have been well suited to the Garden of Eden Redjack. There was nothing to do but eat, sleep, and it was filled with snakes.”
      “Hey! Maria, did you know that channel was open?”
      “Mmm, hmm” and she offered a soft chuckle.
      “Now listen up, I need both of you to report back to Homeworld. Your Battalion XOs can cover for you there, but I dare not say more in front of the staries.”
     â€œWell, at least we’ll have plenty of time on the trip there to discuss apples, snakes, and the meaning of the universe.”

[Guardsman]

CONFEDERATION INTELLIGENCE HEADQUARTERS, BLACK CANYON
OBERON VI, OBERON CONFEDERATION
14 February 3010

     A man of average height, but built like a tank, with rippling muscles shining through the white collared shirt he wore, stood up from his position at the head of the table, “So, what’s it going to be, gents?” After a moment’s a pause, he added “and lady?”
     A dark skinned man with short curly hair leaned back, “I could do with some Capellan food.”
     But a young woman, the only one in the room, interjected, “We had that on Monday.”
     An older, balding fellow set his pen down on the table, “Well, we can’t order pizza. We’ll be at this until dinner trying to decide toppings.”
     The room was oddly lit, with bright lights in the centre, illuminating the table and the faces of those present, but they were angled in such a way to keep the walls in shadow. The contrast only added to the effect.
      “How about a cheeseburger? Simple, easy, no one could object to that, right?” came a man who had gone prematurely grey.
      “Oh no,” came the dark skinned man, “they don’t deliver.”
      “So, what’s wrong with that? We can send someone out” offered the balding fellow.
      “Because I’m the one who always gets sent on these assignments, and the last time I got stuck with the cheque” shot back the dark skinned man.
      “What? I paid my share” offered the young woman.
      “Yeah, you did, but that cheap skate over there still owes me” and he pointed his finger accusingly at a handsome man with a large flowing mane of blonde hair.
      “You were compensated. If you cannot manage your finances, then that is certainly no fault of mine” replied the handsome man in a soft, even tone.
      “Look,” interjected Aiden Keane, the man standing at the head of the table, “we’re not trying to reconstitute the Star League; we’re just trying to order a bloody meal.”
      “Right Chief,” added the dark skinned man.
     The young woman offered, “What about that new Lyran restaurant?”
      “Sauerkraut and bratwurst, god no, I’m not spending that much time with the lot of you after eating that kind of food” shot back the balding fellow.
      “Alright, alright, alright, so, Lyran is out, Capellan is out, pizza is out, and burgers are out. What does that leave? Tamar, chicken, Skye, Draconis”
      “Hmm, Tamar, I could use a curry” offered the balding man” came from the handsome man.
      “Sushi, I hadn’t even thought of that” chipped in the young woman.
      “Mmm, chicken, chips, a bit of gravy, that’d be nice right about now” offered the dark skinned man.
     Chief Keane put a hand to his forehead, thumb and middle finger massaging his temples. Finally, he sighed, and pressed a button on the desk. A woman’s voice spoke, “Yes, Chief Keane?”
      “Please place a delivery order for fish and chips, six ways.”

[Guardsman]

DURANT BATTLEMECH FORCE BASE, KENNEDY BEACH
OBERON VI, OBERON CONFEDERATION
16 February 3010

     The jackboots echoed through the hallway as the Major’s footsteps fell upon the polished stone flooring. He held a data pad in one hand, and a stylus in the other, which he continued to rotate in a circular manner, slipping it between and over his fingers.
     Slipping the stylus into his left breast pocket, he raised his now free hand to his face, brushing against his stubble. It felt right, but he would have liked confirmation, and so he stopped, and scanned the hallway.
     Spotting a sculpture on a table, he knelt down, and looked at himself, trying to get the correct angle that he could just whether or not he was suitable.
     Invariably, that was the point that two passing soldiers would walk past, looking down at the man, “May we help you, sir?”
     Smiling sheepishly, he looked up, taking a mental note of the names of the soldiers, and replied, “No, I am quite all right”
     With a shrug, they set off again, whispering something among themselves, which produced laughter. Major Tarnaby stood up again, and committed the names of the soldiers to his data pad, before continuing on his own path. As he neared the General’s office, he withdrew a small black box from his pocket.
     â€œGood morning Madelyne,” he offered the secretary, and set the box on her desk, without stopping his movements. Coming around behind her, close enough that he could whisper in her ear, he said, “Last month’s winnings, as well as a personal gift.” He also made a point of taking a long glance at what was on her monitor.
     Returning to the front of her desk, having circled the young woman, he returned his tone to a normal speaking voice, “The General has seen fit to summon me.”
     Turning her attention to the computer terminal, she confirmed that he did have an appointment, and then pressed a button on the intercom, “Excuse me sir, but Major Tarnaby is here.”
     â€œSend him right in, Maddy.”
     The Major straightened his collar, and passed through the door, closing it after him.
     â€œAh, come in Major.”
     Widening his arms, head bowing down, and taking a slight step backwards, “Whatever you require, Ashley will provide.”