***
Well, wrote a piece for shrapnel, was rejected, worked hard on it, might as well share it. Many things I'd have done differently now, but in the end, the reasons for the rejection make me doubt it would have passed one way or another. Looks like I won't be getting my bloodname. Sorry if things feel clogged but I'm just not going to spend time making it suitable for conversion on the BT forum.
***
CHAPTER 1
MATAWIN
LAVERENDRYE, SECOND TRY
SARNA MARCH, FEDERATED COMMONWEALTH
2 JUNE 3040
Winter was thawing on the temperate regions of Second Try. The locals were doffing their signature snowshoes and donning their lead-laden boots. Lawrence Kornilov inhaled the spring air, vivifying with the smell of the waking evergreen flora. The six months of wintry purgatory were over at last and this lifted his spirit. Walking along, he chuckled at the sight of a little girl trying to keep up with her father. For the little ones, the re-appearance of the sidewalks was synonymous with changing their motive habits. The low gravity of the planet, coupled with the design of their snowshoes, enabled them to hop instead of walk during the long winter.
As he made his way to his meeting, he passed by the centrifuge. Even this early in the morning, it was already filled with people doing gymnastics, gardening, or merely relaxing in the strengthening gravity of the device. Second Try being a small planet, the gravity was about two thirds lower than that for which humans were designed, hence the development of the centrifuges which had quickly become the centers of communal life. Over the century's, most of them had been adapted so as to resemble revolving green houses filled with life. They were considered quite the site by foreigners.
Lawrence had been convened by the head of maskirovka field operations on the Laverendrye continent. To his delight, it was set in a small dinner where the pepper-gravy poutine was particularly good. Although such a meal made his belly churn just thinking about it this early in the morning, it was a local fast-food delicacy he never managed to steer from when the occasion presented itself. Sure enough, when the bell rang as he was opening the door, Chau Anh Hyunh immediately leapt from her seat.
“At last, my love!” She jumped in his arms, kissing him passionately yet with a certain respectful restraint. “These long winter months felt like they would never end as I yearned to be at your side!”
Eyes locked with his, hand in hand, a delighted smile gracing her full lips, she guided him to her small table. As their sights parted ways and Laurence seated, he could not help but wonder how many a recently transferred operative had been stunned by the act of this lovely mid-aged woman. They held up the exuberant act until the restaurant's patrons shifted their focus from what they took for a young couple, smiling at such touching sentiments. Holding Lawrence's hand, leaning over the table with a charmed disposition, citizen Hyunh didn't take further time to exchange pleasantries.
“Outer world authorities have decided it was time for serious agitation.”
“Forced to agree that the conjuncture is ripe. The Federated Commonwealth's economy had barely recovered from the fourth succession war that the recent unsuccessful war with the Combine has given them another blow.”
“Which means the Sarna region is still in a economically weakened state, ensuring a large deal of our fellow citizens ache to return within the fold, under the guidance of the celestial wisdom.”
“Add to this the mounting oppression of members of the Sarna People's Front plus the fact that old members of the Home Guard whom have reintegrated civil life aren't getting younger.”
“And it becomes clear that we must act now or lose was little resources we have left.” Laurence slightly corrected his seating, being careful not to break the act. Despite himself he cracked a grin, he had always appreciated how these preambles with Chau sounded like a monologue from a single entity. “I assume we are but a part of a wider operation?”
“Quite so, our opportunitys aren't exactly of the nature we'd wish them to, but a symbolic victory is within our reach. The Sarna March Militia detachment occupying Second Try has just received two new heavy 'Mechs with a fair number of spare parts for their maintenance.”
“Cataphracts?”
”A tempting looking target is it not?”
“As tempting as we can aim for I suppose.”
“I've been busy rounding up the Home Guard veterans in Kenogami and in the mining villages further up north. I'm confident a sufficient diversionary force can be assembled. There might even be a few combat vehicles in working condition waiting patiently for a last chance at glory. While I'm aware the support which can be mustered in Matawin is of a lesser nature, I trust you can still...” The arrival of the waitress cut short on their conversation. “And how I yearned to kiss those lips of yours my love!”
She brushed her fine black hair behind her ear and faked a blush as the waitress came to take their order. Against the advice of his digestive system, Lawrence ordered the poutine, Chau a piece of Laverendryan cipaille. Everything was settled quickly and the meeting resumed.
“As I was saying, I assume you can muster some loyal sons and daughters of the confederation to help in our endeavor? “
“I have a few leads.”
“What kind of leads?”
“A few veterans from the Home Guard encountering issues with the satisfaction of their basic needs.”
“At least a full platoon I hope?”
“Not quite, but there is also a certain amount of, shall we say, political malcontents. A student club in the old Payette School has caught my attention.”
“Liaoists I presume?”
“In part. Quite the radical group if eclectic in composition actually. They classify themselves as a youth cell of the Sarna People's Front. Too small to attract any unwanted attention yet. Wouldn't count on them for anything too serious, but they would do as far as diversions are concerned.”
“Any potential prospects for the long game? After all, short term will see us lose what strength we had managed to save in the region even if we do not act, but who knows what the situation will be in ten years?”
“I have yet to study the possibility.”
“Well, you will be spending more time with these true capellans. Ample time to assess their individual potentials.”
“I shall look into it in parallel with the main course.”
CHAPTER 2
PAYETTE SCHOOL OF HIGHER LEARNING, MATAWIN
LAVERENDRYE, SECOND TRY
SARNA MARCH, FEDERATED COMMONWEALTH
9 JUNE 3040
The Payette School of Higher Learning was funded by the Payette family, of longstanding barduc nobility, as a mean to produce a local qualified work force for the northern mining grounds. The engineering, metallurgy and other programs, while not producing full-fledged engineers, nonetheless kept a steady flow of technicians available. Ample enough numbers to keep the Laverendrye continent's mines and attendant services fully staffed.
While a noble school, the PSoHL's vocation was quite like that of that of a poor man's philotechnique institutes. Hence, when political education courses were added in the curriculum of said institutes, the Payette family felt the need to follow suit. The aftermath of the fourth succession war ensured that the school was hit hard. The MIIO quickly cleaned house, getting rid of most of the liaoist teachers, leaving only a few surviving candacists. The funding of the PSoHL was also curtailed by the loss of wealth inherent to the change of government for the noble patrons.
The Payette family remained a major player in the affairs of Second Try, retaining ownership of a fair part of the Laverendrye continent mines and industry, but many of their possessions had been re-distributed or sold at a loss to the new Federated Suns investors and nobles for a number of reasons. The PSoHL was, much like its planet, in an economic state of decay.
The Laverendrye continent itself was crossed from north to south by the Matawin river which, in tandem with the railway that ran along its bank, was the artery of the whole continent. It connected Kenogami city, the continent's major city and harbor, to the various small villages of the northern mining grounds on the outskirts of the Arctic wastes. The city of Matawin sat halfway on said artery, housing raw material transformation industrys and providing services to the transportation assets as well as the northernmost populace.
Pierre-Esprit Laurendeau was in his second year as a industrialmech technician. On his first day, his liao-green beret and Sarna People's Front patch had caught the eye of some members of the school's SPF youth cell whom had invited him to their weekly meeting. He had sat through the meeting in a quiet state of observation. This being his first contact with a political meeting, he had been content to listen to the debates, refraining from an attempt at making an impression, notably on the points concerning the group's funding and use of said funds.
The lack of monetary resources combined with the recent motion of a Kenogami student union for the construction of a McKenna class battleship ensured that these debates were mostly humorous in nature. The serious part had revolved around the tactics to convince the nascent student's union to cede them funds to replace their computer which had given up the ghost. The cell also needed such things as staples, paper and pencils, basic supplies which they were loathe to buy with the meager war chest they had accumulated through the organization of concerts.
From what Pierre-Esprit had gathered, the Matawin SPF youth cell was a coalition of many distinctive political currents. Of the dozen of students present to this weekly meeting, some full-fledged members and others mere sympathizers, three currents of liaoism were represented as well as sarna march independentists, anarcho-syndicalists with loose ties to the nascent student unions and the National Liberal Party and even a member of the radical wing of the Abacus Party. As the meeting reached the miscellany point, Pierre-Esprit rose from his seat and cleared his throat.
At once, every face turned towards him, beaming smiles for the most part, all delighted to have a new attendee. He blushed and nearly sat back as Henriette Membertou's stare, a defiant, strangely good intentioned glare that managed to combine fiery intensity with an assumed aloofness, crossed his. He knew her name as he had noticed her in one of his class, her slim build, liao-green mohawk and cauliflower ears, combined with that stare of hers, having caught his imagination as soon as he had set his eyes upon her.
Clearing his throat a second time, with a certain thoroughness, giving himself precious seconds to regain his composure, he asked the question burning in his mind.
“So, I've heard rumors that the SPF has been under a lot of pressure, to say the least, from the MIIO. Where does that leave you guys?”
The liaoists, whom sat together, exchanged a concerned expression. The man sitting in the middle, who's interventions clearly marked him as a maximillianist, passed a hand on his shaved head and answered first, staring at the ground.
“Well, as far as we're concerned, we haven't been troubled. Matawin is a small and remote city and we're basically just a student club. There's been no serious control since the teacher culling. But we know elsewhere on Second Try the situation isn't as rosy. Liaoists within the SPF are all being tried for treason, then sent to prison or worse.”
A splendid looking pudgy woman sitting at the previous talkers right gave him a playful elbow hit before picking up. “Except for us candacists. Most of us who were trialed managed to get the accusations cleared.”
Henriette, who's hair color was more a fashion statement then a political one, locked her eyes into Pierre-Esprit's, visibly relishing the effect she had on the young man, and spoke her mind.
“And so the fedrats purging of the liaoists elements within the People's Front is paving the way for a takeover of the movement by the independentist wing, while we of the “lesser movements” hang around for the sake of diversity.”
Satisfied by the general chuckling after her few words, she leaned back in her chair, folding her arms, with her eyes still locked in Pierre-Esprit's as someone else uttered in an exaggeratedly solemn tone.
“Time will tell how this all plays out.”
CHAPTER 3
MATAWIN
LAVERENDRYE, SECOND TRY
SARNA MARCH, FEDERATED COMMONWEALTH
6 OCTOBER 3040
Lawrence Kornilov was making his way home after another night shift at the buckwheat mill, carrying a sack of flour. Aside from the cultural significance of buckwheat for the inhabitants of Second Try, the fact that this plant matured within a span of three months made it one of the few edible plants which could be harvested on the largely frozen planet. Buckwheat porridge with a sugary condiment for breakfast, buckwheat ployes for lunch and rolled buckwheat pancakes stuffed with whatever you had on hand for dinner, such was the diet for most of the inhabitants of the Laverendrye continent. During the great reorganization which had accompanied the Federated Sun's conquest of the planet, buckwheat had claimed most of the credit for evading planet wide starvation.
As Lawrence reached the main door of his tenement and searched for his keys, he sensed a presence in the dark.
“Why hello there tall, dark and handsome.” The voice sounded weary, tired, but somehow fulfilled.
“Citizen Hyunh, how nice of you to visit at such an hour.”
“I need a drink and a power nap dear. I trust you can accommodate this for an old friend?”
He looked at her and even in the dark he could notice how drained she looked. Without a word he opened the door and led her to his small apartment. As soon as they walked into his home, she went for the small couch, collapsing on it, stretching and cracking as she made herself as comfortable as possible. Kornilov hummed to himself as he poured a glass of gin and the accompanying glass of water, having but two steps to make between the small kitchen and what served as a living room and a bedroom. He passed the glasses to her and waited for the rapid consumption before talking.
“Would you care for some buckwheat pancakes? I've got some leftover head cheese to go along with that.”
“Always such the gentleman. But no dear. My stomach's knotted up, too much stress. A few seconds passed as she took an arm out of one of her sleeves and rested the cloth on her eyes.” Sighing, she continued. “I crossed an MIIO agent. I have to get out of the area. They know something's brewing. All the agitation fomenting through the Sarna People's Front is getting their attention.”
“What's our timetable?”
“A month. We have a month to get this operation rolling. Impossible to know the exact date of arrival but the window is between four to five weeks.”
“A full week of uncertainty?”
“A full week.”
“Like firing a blind shot with your last bullet at an incoming menace.”
A smile crept on her dry lips. “Quite. But then, this was never about a carefully planned uprising.”
“Using up the resources you have left before they're spoiled.”
“That, and making preparations for the future. Would you be so kind as to give a refill to an exhausted woman?”He got up from his chair and went back to the kitchen. “Always such a dear. How I will miss you my good Lawrence. You do know that you're going to be in charge of operations north of Kenogami, right?”
“I was hoping you'd tell me you had a replacement on the way.”
“No such luck. That responsibility falls on your shoulders. Not that you'll have much to do in the coming years except keep low while keeping the links alive. If they keep you clustered on this frozen rock that is.”
“There goes my retirement plans.”
“Ah, but there can be no retirement for those who serve the state, save for pushing daisys, and this planet is far too cold to allow for such floral pursuits.”
They both chuckled as their glasses clinked and the alcohol warmed their innards, followed by the cold kiss of fresh water washing it further down. She softly grasped for his hand before asking in a hopeful tone. “And your prospects?"
“A few young liaoists eager to bask in the celestial wisdom. Pawns. But I have come upon a blue chip prospect. She somewhat reminds me of you Chau.”
“Brilliant, gorgeous and as good a shot as the immortal warrior?”
“Close. I meant a wild electron with capacities to serve in a way above the common operative.”
“You think she can be tempered?”
“A few dead friends, the rest scattered like scarred rabbits, she'll have her spirit broken. From there on, if I can exert a form of teacher like influence on her, she'll fold into the flock.”
“Splendid news I suppose. I assume she's not the one through which your communicating?”
“Nay. The young liaoists have proven very helpful in this aspect. One of them has family members within the surviving home guards whom will help us in our endeavor. It eased the whole process quite marvelously.”
“Music to my ears.” She let go of his hand. “Now let me sleep dear, three hours and I'll be on my way. It has been an honor to serve in your company citizen.”
“Sleep well citizen Chau Anh Hyunh.”
CHAPTER 4
MATAWIN
LAVERENDRYE, SECOND TRY
SARNA MARCH, FEDERATED COMMONWEALTH
9 NOVEMBER 3040
A week of protests had given way to a day of rioting in the major citys of Second Try. Most of the constabulary forces had strived to keep a low profile through it all, happy to funnel the crowd and keep the damage minimal. As the second day of rioting began, the higher authorities called for the militia. On the third day, the news reached the populace that CCAF dropships were approaching fast. At dusk, the insurgents drew out their weapons and seized the few key locations they could manage to hold.
The reliable elements of the planetary militia, small detachments scattered across the planet and led by units of the Sarna March Militia proper, deployed to crush the insurgency before the arrival of what looked like a major raiding party for the likes of such a small planet. Pierre-Esprit Laurendeau's group had managed to take the Matawin town hall without a shot fired. Located downtown, it offered the best chances for a hasty and stealthy retreat.
The neighborhood's centrifuge was the master piece of the exit plan. Sacred ground. Having a combat machine within a certain radius of it would only feed the fire of popular discontentment, something the militia was loathe to do.
He was sharing a bottle of spruce beer with Henriette when they felt it. The ground shaking at regular intervals. A titan's footsteps, getting closer. Then the rumbling sound of treaded vehicles. An old home guard slowly, noiselessly, cautiously, went for the window, then muttered.
“Tabarnak.”
Lawrence Kornilov crept besides the other man to take a quick glance. He couldn't help but whisper as he understood the other man's curse. “A Stinger.”
The AFVs stopped at a respectable distance from the building. The Battlemech marched forward, like a vengeful avatar of war confident in its superiority. As the stinger was getting within range of its machine guns, the tanks, a design produced on a nearby planet reminiscent of the benchmark scorpion, opened fire on the town hall. The impacting shells shattered windows and blew away walls.
Dazed by the explosions, Pierre-Esprit got up slowly, coughing. He caught a glimpse of the running home guards, suppressed nausea as his hazy stare passed upon the butchered corpses of his fellows, and just had the time to see Lawrence raising Henriette to her feet by the neck of her shirt before a 12,5mm caliber bullet tore off the left side of his cranium.
CHAPTER 5
127 KM NORTH OF MATAWIN
LAVERENDRYE, SECOND TRY
SARNA MARCH, FEDERATED COMMONWEALTH
9 NOVEMBER 3040
Commander Keane was resting in the chair of his victor, enjoying the view.
The whole lance ready to dance within an hour of the drawing of the curtains. I never get bored of the majesty of a seeker dropship set against the dusk's sky as the salvage team and its protective arms deploy.
“Commander Keane, aerospace recon reports are in.”
“Howl your precious news onto me my hound.”
“The quarry is heading our way, about 2 hours to contact.”
“Marvelous! We shall give chase at once.”
“About two lances of hovertanks should be able to link-up with our target before they are within range.”
“The more the merrier.”
“There was about a lance worth of fighting vehicles initiating the pacification of the town 120 km south 15 minutes ago. Chances are they can get within reach of our salvage operations within two hours themselves.”
“Fear not my tempestuous companions, avenge these glorious warriors of light we shall!” The commander drew in a deep breath, making sure the microphone picked the inhaling sound. He knew how much his team appreciated his colorful pep talks before getting to the business at hand. “Righty-o! Captain Gabashvili, if you would please to unleash your dogs of war so as to assist us harvesting your symbols of righteous havoc, I would be much obliged. It goes without a say that the southern meddlers are yours to deal with as we are engaged in a life and death struggle with this most dangerous game. Onward Huntsmen! Tonight shall be a search for our lost follys and our vain glorys!”
“Carry-on commander Keane. The mobile company shall catch up to you as soon as we've mopped up this supply depot and I shall send a salvage team your way once things are settled here.”
Keane's Victor executed a bow towards the dropship then accelerated to a north-bound run, followed by the rest of his lance. Keane's Huntsmen were a mercenary lance, one of the myriads plying their trade across the inner sphere. But a successful one. From three friends in their family medium and light Battlemechs, the unit had evolved into a full lance of mobile heavy and assault 'Mechs. All owned by Keane. The current crop of Mechwarriors were all of a dispossessed background. All blindly loyal to Keane. A chance contract with house Liao many years ago had netted them a good start-up capital and a reputation. Business was good for the lucky and the efficient.
The lance was traveling along the railway at its best safe speed until the AFV company caught up with it. The general battle-plan was to engage the enemy 'Mech lance in a wooded area about 75 km from the supply depot, which would enable the heavier Huntsmen to pummel their quarry at close range. This would maximize the possibility of head hits and leg damage so as to salvage the most out of the two targeted Cataphracts.
But to intercept the opposing force in the wanted area, speed was of the essence. Second Try's low gravity was the factor that would make it possible. As the hovertanks adopted an echelon right formation a few hundred meters ahead of the Battlemech lance, commander Keane pushed his engine to the limit, sending his Victor running at over 90 kph. A half hour later, the awaited signal was thrown.
“Contact!”
“Forty-fifth armored cavalry, pin them down. Huntsmen, break east and begin flanking maneuver. We'll flank them or draw them into the woods, either way, our goal shall be within reach. Tally-ho!”
The Confederation Reserves hovertanks were lighter, but more numerous and better skilled then their counterparts. Adopting boom and zoom tactics, they proceeded to check the opposing conventional vehicles while applying pressure on the enemy 'Mechs so as to incite them to take cover in the woods. The scheme worked. The Quickdraw, Ostsol, Ostroc and Victor of Keane's Huntsmen took to the air, using the lower gravity to their advantage, risking stress damage to their mech's internal structures so as to close in with the sarnese militia Battlemechs quickly.
Aside from the two Cataphracts, the other elements of the AFFS lance were a Valkyrie and a Locust, the latter being blasted at close range by Keane's pontiac autocannon among the opening volleys of the clash. The Quickdraw jumped right into the middle of the ennemy formation, unnerving the federate Mechwarriors, visibly of green material. Temperature helping, it let loose with its full complement of weapons before jumping out of harms way to cool down as the two ost 'Mechs aimed for one of the Cataphracts.
Unleashing a withering fire as they closed with their prey, vaporizing tons of armor, they managed to fire high and fire low, softening up the legs of the 70 tons metal war stallion which gave under the strain after a few kicks. While it returned fire in a most effective way, the fury of the attack had been overwhelming and both ost 'Mechs were still battle-ready as they turned to the other Cataphract, busy squaring off against Keane's Victor.
The remaining Cataphract Mechwarrior tried his best to keep his distance so as to get the most out of it's PPC, but as it was loathe to enter clear ground and face the risk of a ramming attack by the dwindling number of hovercrafts, the Victor kept its mobility advantage thanks to its jump jets. It was inevitably pushed into position for the ost 'Mechs to attempt a charge. Like two rugby players tackling a ball carrying adversary, they rammed the Cataphract at best speed at a few seconds interval, the second charge sending the target crashing down. The two mercenary 'Mechs then laboriously pinned down their target, enabling commander Keane to line up a head shot with his large bore autocannon.
“Another prey cleanly put to death. “
The pontiac exhaled annihilation at point blank, obliterating the Cataphract's head, by which time the Quickdraw had eliminated the militia Valkyrie. Realizing their 'Mech support was gone, the remaining nilitia hovercrafts disengaged and were allowed to retreat unharmed. Commander Mike Keane signaled for his superior.
“Captain Gabashvili, I report an overwhelming victory. The area is secured and we await your salvage crew.”
“Well done commander. My team should be there within 30 minutes. Hold the area, we'll get ready to evacuate off-planet as soon as the cargo is secured.”
CHAPTER 6
NORTHERN MINING GROUNDS
LAVERENDRYE, SECOND TRY
SARNA MARCH, FEDERATED COMMONWEALTH
24 NOVEMBER 3040
Lawrence Kornilov dusted the snow off his greatcoat, doffed his snowshoes and opened the door to the small hunting cabin. Henriette looked up at him, startled. His sudden entry in her small world of guilt pulling her out of this other dimension. Hunched over due to the low ceiling, he made his way to the small bunk, then sat besides her. He waited a few heartbeats then locked his eyes in hers, still defiant through the oppressing emotions.
“That boy, Laurendeau, was special to you I gathered.”
“I guess.” Her voice chocked. “I guess he meant more to me then I cared to admit.”
“Alas, people come and people go. But know that we succeeded. The Capellan people are aware of our action. The Capellan Broadcast Service itself has spread the news. A great victory for the CCAF on the world of Second Try. A whole lance of Cataphracts, they said, re-appropriated by the glorious warriors of the 2nd Confederation Reserves and its support. A daring action made possible by the valiant efforts of the loyal sons and daughters of the Confederation. Freedom fighters they called us. Warriors of light.”
Her eyes briefly flashed of pride, a feeling soon obscured by the receding guilt. Faking the Laverendryan accent and giving her a light and playful shove, Lawrence added a layer. “The friggin' CBS my dear!” She briefly smiled. “Now then, I have brought you some paper and a pencil. Write a little something for your family, make it cryptic. I have been reassigned to New Home to help organize an ongoing project and you'll be coming with me.”
He marked a pause, taking a solicitude filled tone. “A young woman like you has no future on this planet. Clandestinity is only agreeable when something can come out of it. With your set of skills, I'm confident you'll have opportunitys to shine elsewhere. After all, who knows what the conjuncture will be in the Sarna region 15 years from now? “ He scratched his graying beard and flashed a predatory grin. “Warriors of light. A war of light. Zhanzheng De Guang has a nice ring to it does it not?”
