Caspian hummed softly to himself as he walked the corridors of the Björngröng. He was making his way to the hangar to brief Hugo's team for their upcoming mission, and found himself to be in an unusually good mood. Joviality was a precious resource, one that had been scarce ever since the Clans invaded, and so he was determined to savor any amount of it he could find. He was lost in the tune of a ballad, an ancient song about a woman named Lorena. It was a pleasant melody, though like many ancient love songs the lyrics carried a hint of tragedy, and so Caspian had decided to hum the tune rather than sing the words. His quiet walk was interrupted when Timothy came barreling out of his quarters barely a foot away, crashing against the bullhead in his haste. His arms were loaded with tactical vests and a stack of laser pistols which fell across the deck as he impacted the wall. Caspian bent down to help Timothy collect his load.
"That's a lot of gear," he said. "You'll break your spine carrying all this weight."
Timothy grinned sheepishly. "Sorry, Captain. Sergeant Spiegel asked me to grab these. I'd been cleaning the kit, and he wanted them for the mission." His grin widened as he added, "He selected me to come along this time. Even issued me a rifle."
Caspian raised an eyebrow. "He did, huh? Well, I suppose it's a simple enough job for your first op." He helped himself to half of Timothy's load and straightened himself up. "Keep your head down and do whatever Hugo says. You should be fine."
"Yes, sir!" Timothy replied. He walked alongside Caspian as he continued down the corridor, keeping pace. For a few seconds they said nothing, but after a moment of silence Timothy cleared his throat. "Uh, Captain," he said. "Can I ask you something... personal?"
Caspian glanced sideways at him. "Something on your mind?"
"Well..." Timothy hesitated as he searched for the right words. "You've known Lt. Grimmsdottir for a long time, right?"
Caspian smiled as he realized where the conversation was headed. "We've been working together for years," he replied.
"So you know her pretty well, then," Timothy continued. His face turned bright red, and he broke eye contact, staring at the deck as he carried on walking. "Do you know... what she likes?"
"What she likes?" Caspian echoed. "Grimm likes a lot of things. You'll need to be a little more specific."
"Well, I got a little extra pocket money," said Timothy. "And we're going to be spending some time in the city, so... I just thought I might... you know..." He coughed and mumbled, "I thought I might buy her something."
Caspian gently slapped his shoulder. "Relax, Timothy. I know how you feel about the lieutenant. You don't have to be embarrassed."
Timothy winced. "Is it that obvious?"
Caspian nodded. "It always is at your age," he said. "But we've all been there. Now let's see..." He stopped walking for a moment and leaned against the bulkhead, eyes fixed on the ceiling as he thought. "Well... if I recall correctly back when we were still the 2nd Kavallerie she might have mentioned that she enjoys strawberries. Though I don't know where you'd find any on Lothan these days. Maybe one of the wolf places would have some, if you can stomach giving them your money."
Timothy contemplated for a moment, then said, "I normally wouldn't give a Clanner anything, but..." He smiled as his gaze fell to his feet once again. "It wouldn't be the first time I've felt foolish because of her. You think she'd smile if I gave her some?"
"I think she would," Caspian replied.
Timothy nodded decisively. "Then it's worth it."
Caspian resumed walking and Timothy followed after him. "So what's got you all hot under the collar for the lieutenant?" asked Caspian. "Isn't she a little old for you?"
"You mean you don't know?" asked Timothy.
Caspian shrugged. "I've never really thought of her that way," he said.
"Not even a little?" Timothy pressed.
"Let me tell you something," said Caspian. "When you're an officer you wield a lot of power. I give the word and people obey. They do whatever I tell them to, even if I order them to do something that could get them killed. Now, if I have that kind of power and I decide that I find one of my subordinates attractive, what might I be tempted to do?"
Timothy paused. "Umm... Order her to... Uh..."
"Exactly," Caspian replied. "My subordinates trust me with their lives, and that's a sacred trust that's all too easy to abuse. So I trained myself to ignore that little voice in my head, as well as the one under my belt buckle. Amberly is a close friend and one hell of an officer, possibly the best lancemate I've ever had, but I see her as a soldier, not as a woman. You understand?"
"I think so," Timothy replied. "But... you do call her 'Grimm.' I always thought that since you use pet names that you might've... maybe a long time ago..."
"Those are nicknames, not pet names," said Caspian. "Not the same thing."
"Well..." Timothy sighed. "You're probably right about her being too old for me, anyway. I don't have a whole lot to offer at my age, but... I can't help it. She's always been nice to me. She's one of the few people here who doesn't shout at me when I mess something up, which I do a lot. It's just like... when I'm around here I feel happy, confident in myself, y'know? I never feel that way around any of the girls my age. Girls are always laughing at me, saying things behind my back. They make me feel like I need to constantly look over my shoulder."
Caspian nodded in understanding. "When I was your age I felt the same way," he said. "The girls at school always teased me. I was cross-eyed and short for my age, and I couldn't get a date to save my life. But there was one lady I always felt comfortable around. She was the local librarian, fresh out of university, and she helped tutor me when I was struggling with my reading skills. She had long, dark hair, a set of dark brown eyes that would just grab hold of you and wouldn't let you go, magnified by a set of glasses that made her look sophisticated. Her smile would make my heart freeze, and she was always kind to me, even when nobody else would be. There were just two small problems. First, I was sixteen and second, she was married."
"Ouch..." said Timothy. "That must've made things awkward. What did you do?"
"Brought her flowers once a week," Caspian replied. He laughed and rubbed at his forehead. "Ah, it all seems so foolish in retrospect, but at the time I was so hopeful that it would lead to something. It never did, of course, but I tried anyway. One day she sat me down and told me something that I'll never forget. She said that she was flattered, but that I was too young and I needed to move on. She said that some day I'd be a fine man, and that soon all those girls that laughed at me would grow up and mature, just like the boys would. She told me not to give up, even if things looked hopeless. At first I was crushed, but she was right. All those girls did eventually grow up. I even became close with a few of them." He sighed. "If not for the war I might've even married one of them. Anyway, my point is that you shouldn't feel too bad if she isn't interested."
"Yeah..." Timothy replied, sounding unconvinced.
Caspian laid a hand on his shoulder. "You're a good kid, Timothy," he said. "Maybe the girls don't see it yet, but once the pretty boys all walk off with someone new under their arms, they'll start looking for someone they can trust. You just need a little patience."
"So you're saying I should forget the strawberries?" asked Timothy.
"I didn't say that," Caspian replied with a grin. "If nothing else it'll put her in a good mood, and she's a lot easier for me to handle when she's smiling."
-
The nighttime wind of Lothan was always cold, even in the summer. The daytime had been warm and pleasant, but the moment the sun slipped over the horizon the world was plunged into icy darkness. Timothy gritted his teeth as the breeze passed effortlessly through his flak jacket. He had been born and raised on Lothan and was no stranger to the cold, but as he climbed his way up the side of the Lothan Capital Trust building he began to feel it in his fingers. The rope was getting harder to grip. He thought about setting his belt harness and taking a moment to flex them, but he knew that doing so would slow the others climbing behind him. He could hear the soft grunting of Ashley Gorrick beneath him and she seemed to be gaining on him. Timothy set his jaw and climbed doggedly onward, not wanting to be outdone when he felt a hand on his boot. He glanced down to see Ashley staring up at him.
"Slow done, Timothy," she said. "We've left the others behind. Rest a second and let them catch up."
Timothy stretched his back and looked beyond her. The rest of the team was nearly a dozen meters below them, struggling to match their pace. "I thought they were right behind me," said Timothy. "I didn't want to hold them up."
"Hugo sent me to catch you," said Ashley. "Had a hell of a time doing it. Where do you get all that energy?"
Timothy grinned sheepishly. "Breakfast cereal," he replied. "That's my secret."
Ashley chuckled softly and patted his calf. "I know you're eager to prove yourself, kid," she said. "But take it easy, alright? Nobody needs to be a hero tonight."
They waited for a few minutes until the rest of the team reached them, then once Hugo gave them the signal they continued upwards, eventually reaching the roof. Timothy was the first to leave the rope, and he stepped onto the flat surface, unslinging his rifle and scanning for targets. As expected the rooftop was clear, so he stepped to the side, took a knee, and watched the others clamber over the edge one by one.
Ashley was first to join him. In the moonlight her black suit made her look wraithlike, almost ethereal. Her short golden hair was tucked neatly beneath a dark skull cap, and her face had been painted deep gray. She nodded to Timothy as she knelt beside him, and he noticed a shaking in her hands. Ashley was an experienced soldier, despite being less than three years older than Timothy. She had been in combat since her early teens, working as a mercenary for her father's company, a business that had ended when the Clans wiped out their unit. Her shaking didn't come from fear but from permanent nerve damage. A laser had pierced her armored vehicle, setting off a crate of ammunition set beside her. The scars from the explosion still marked her face, most noticeably with a nasty gash that crossed both of her strikingly green eyes. Her hands shook constantly, but she had learned to compensate for the shuddering with years of practice. Despite the handicap she was one of the best marksmen in Mage Squadron.
Hugo came after her, cutting an intimidating figure in his form-fitting body armor. Being the largest man in the squad, he carried the heavy weapon, an oversized laser rifle he had dubbed "Wolfsbane." It was the result of a year's worth of tinkering and dangerous experimentation, a mech-scale laser that they had trimmed down to be man-portable. Hugo had built it specifically for killing Elementals, and he had already claimed four kills with it. He kept the device strapped to his back in a special harness designed to make carrying the incredible weight feasible. Even with the assistance it was still remarkably heavy, and no one other than Hugo could even begin to lift it.
After Hugo came Gordon Jarkov, a quiet dark-skinned man in his mid fifties. Gordon had been in the Kungsarmè Special Forces before the Invasion, and he was the most experienced in this kind of warfare out of the group. He was a man of few words and an icy outward appearance, though only when on an assignment. Off duty he was known as amicable, or even charming. At the moment, however, he was completely focused on the task ahead. He had a job to do, and there was no room for idle chatter.
The last to come off the rope was Lars. Lars was a strange person by any metric. He had a unique gift that was rare in the Inner Sphere; he was a computer expert. He claimed that he was able to make a machine do almost anything he desired, and on many occasions he had done things that seemed impossible. He had been the one who had decrypted Clan Wolf's transmissions before Mage Squadron secured their own set of keys. He had often slipped into battlemechs during the night to plant a small string of code into their onboard computers, causing them to overheat their reactors when activated or to fire all their weapons without any input from the pilot. Lars's skills were impressive, but his behaviors were beyond eccentric. First of all, Lars was almost certainly not his real name. He refused to show his face, keeping it hidden behind a bullet-resistant ceramic mask that completely covered his features. His voice was always filtered through a vocalizer set in the mask, distorting it into a digital, almost robotic tone. Speaking with Lars would often set one's teeth on edge. His appearance combined with his voice made conversations alien and uncomfortable, but he always insisted that his identity needed to remain a secret in order to protect him from being exploited by one of the Great Houses. He would never say which House was after him or why, and he refused to give any details of his personal life. Even his reasons for joining Mage Squadron were vague and mysterious. He hadn't been recruited like the others. He had simply appeared one day, turned off the Björngröng's engines with a snap of his fingers, and asked for a job. Caspian had hired him on the spot, much to Amberly's dismay.
Ashley moved toward a nearby skylight, carefully peering through it. She motioned for the others to join her, then set down her pack and withdrew a small laser cutter and a liquid nitrogen spray can. With four slow, smooth motions she moved the can along the edge of the window pane, coating the edges with the fluid. Ice formed on the window, freezing the glass in place and locking down the pressure sensors that surrounded the window. With the security measure taken care of Ashley stuck a suction cup hand to the glass and cut a wide circle in the center of the pane with the laser, just big enough for Hugo to squeeze through. Timothy took hold of the handle, gently pulling it free as Ashley finished her work.
Gordon dropped through the hole first, falling three meters to the floor below. Hugo went next, then Lars and Timothy. Ashley followed after, bringing the piece of glass with her. Once she was through she climbed on Hugo's shoulders, applied a superadhesive to the disc, and returned it to its original place before the ice melted and reactivated the pressure sensors.
Hugo helped Ashley down to the floor and nodded in satisfaction. "Alright," he whispered. "Masks and suppressors on, everyone. Security's light, but stay quiet and check your corners. Gordon, take point. Timothy, cover the rear. Lars, stay close to Ashley."
Lars chuckled, an odd sound when filtered through his vocalizer. "Don't mind if I do," he said. He nudged Ashley. "That's an order I could get used to."
Ashley scowled at him as she pulled her balaclava over her face. "In your dreams, desk humper." she growled. "Keep your hands to yourself or I'll break your fingers."
The team carried on in silence, passing through the hallway and into the stairwell. They descended several flights until they reached the second floor, where the building's floor plans said the primary data server would be located. The second floor was wide and open with large windows and almost no cover. In the center was a massive tower of computer cases, cables, conduits, and flashing lights. The team moved toward it and was about halfway there when the sound of a door opening made them all freeze. Timothy had been watching their rear, and he saw an office door swing lazily ajar as a man in a security uniform walked through. He was whistling softly to himself as he strolled along the wall, shining a flashlight around as he checked the floor. The beam fell on Timothy and the guard had just enough time to stop whistling and reach for his gun before a bullet pierced his skull, dropping him to the floor in a heap. Timothy's hands began to shake as he realized what had happened.
Ashley patted his back. "Nice shot, kid. Grab his radio. Go."
Timothy shook himself and moved to the corpse. The guard's eyes were still open, staring at the ceiling. A look of surprise covered his face. Timothy felt a pang of nausea wash over him. He had never killed anyone before. He had fired automatically, without even blinking, and now the man was dead. It made him feel dirty, as if he'd just committed a heinous act and got away with it. He tried not to look at the man's face as he pulled his radio free from his belt and returned to the group.
Gordon took the radio from Timothy just as a voice came through its speaker. "Sierra three, report in," it said.
"Sierra three," Gordon replied. "All clear."
Satisfied that they hadn't been detected, Hugo led them to the data server. Lars went to work immediately, pulling a datapad from his pack and a bundle of cables. He connected the device to the server at three seemingly random points and began rapidly inputting a series of complicated commands. His fingers flew across the interface, and he nodded to Hugo.
"Five minutes," he said.
Hugo nodded in reply and turned to the others. "Take a knee, people. We're camping here for a bit."
Timothy knelt on the floor, feeling the soft carpet beneath him. He glanced over at the dead security guard, and absently wondered if the blood stain would ever come out of the floor. He shuddered as the image of the kill played over again and again in his mind. The sickness intensified and he doubled over for a second. A hand fell on his shoulder, and he straightened himself up as Ashley spoke.
"You alright, Tim?"
Timothy nodded. "Yeah, I just... I'm fine."
Ashley followed his gaze, saw what had him spooked, and patted his back. "Don't worry about it, kid. It gets easier the more you practice."
"Yeah," Timothy replied, feeling his gut clench even more at her words.
"Got it," said Lars as he swiftly unplugged his datapad from the server.
"Finished already?" asked Hugo.
Lars packed his equipment away, looking pleased with himself despite his face being covered. "I found the tax records and set up a program to reverse all those transactions and erase the ledgers," he said. "When Lothan wakes up tomorrow, she's going to have the biggest tax refund in Rasalhague history."
"Then let's not hang around," said Hugo. "Timothy, hide that body. That should buy us some time to exfil. Gordon, call it in. We'll meet the VTOL on the roof like we planned. Move out!"
Timothy obeyed, his stomach churning even more as he dragged the corpse into one of the offices and hid it beneath a desk. As he took hold of the wrists, he noticed that the body was still warm and nearly threw up. He emerged from the office and closed the door behind him, his face pale as he followed the others back into the stairwell.
