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My eyes flickered open, then closed to a squint against the light shining into them. On reflex I took a
deep breath-
I regretted that decision immediately.
A spike of pain shot through my chest and I winced and hissed slightly. It wasn’t overwhelming or agonising or anything, but it was sharp enough to make it be known that my ribs were lodging an official protest over everything I had done to them.
On the plus side, the burst of information through my nervous system as I flinched worked to rather immediately wake me fully up and clear the fogginess from my head as I squinted and blinked away the light. Letting my eyes adjust as I tried to recall my last memories…
Ah. Right.
Falling like a rock from a street light to the ground and slamming my head against said ground
after being twirled into the side of a building.
Mental note - invent small cockpits so I could bloody well wear power suits inside a Battlemech in the future and eject ‘living legends’ style out of them...Clearly time had passed since then because I was on a bed and not a battlefield and as I stared at the ceiling overhead, I also noted the absence of any Stig-like figures holding up signs as they taunted Yorinaga Kurita … or signing battleships hovering excitedly over the battlefield.
So I was
pretty sure I was awake now.
Probably.
Man, whatever the hell they had had me on, I needed less of it … or more. Not sure which yet - oh hey, this ceiling is familiar...Pushing aside the Shinji-Ikrai’isms, I started to try and move, feeling oddly unbalanced in the bed before a voice cut my thoughts-
“Oh good, you’re waking up on schedule” a far-too cheerful voice called out to the side and I tilted my head in that direction, then blinked rapidly several times as a familiar face came into view from the side … walking at a weird angle…
“Please tell me that
wasn’t all a dream?” I got out in a raspy voice that was nonetheless
dripping with exasperation.
So help ROB if I’m in a Gods Damned bullshit looper scenario-“I could see how you might think that” Janice said with a twitch in her smile that suggested she found the idea amusing, “but assuming the last thing you remember was making a not-quite perfect ejection? Then the last few years were
not a dream” she replied and I sighed as my muscles relaxed and I flopped back onto the bed, taking a more careful deep breath and finally understood why I was feeling like I was at an odd angle ...because I was.
This bed had gone full Minbari style and was sloping at an angle up from the ground.
I’m sure there was a
reason for that, buggered if I knew what it was - and I winced again as I tried to shift a little to get more comfortable.
“Careful, you had broken two of your ribs” she warned as she stepped closer and started to fiddle with a control on the side of what I realized was a hospital bed and with a hum the back behind me started to rise more steeply and the ‘bottom’ near my feat came up a bit and reformed into a more conventional bed with its back raised. “You also had some light spinal strain from the ejection, a rather well sprained right ankle
and mild electrical burns on your shoulder. The last of the sedatives are being flushed out of your system and a stimulant replacing it - hence your waking up - but if the pain gets too much, let me know.”
“It’s not too bad” I replied as my back became propped up, bringing the room into much better focus and I started to tense and test my limbs and muscles, pushing past the occasional spikes of pain and twinges of stiffness to find my hands, feet, fingers and toes were all seemingly functional. So the ‘spinal strain’ didn’t seem to have done any major damage. I could tell my shoulder was bandaged
and it seemed there was an IV hooked into my upper arm somewhere. And I could feel medical sensors all over me, much the same as were used in Battlemechs.
In all honestly … it could have been worse.
A
lot worse.
Pushing past that I directed my attention at the person standing next to me as she handed me a cup of water with a straw I eagerly consumed, clearing my throat a few times carefully as I considered her presence. Dr Janice Besson was the psychiatrist who had been tasked with damage control after I had unceremoniously woken up one day in a different universe to the one I had gone to sleep in. Dealing with my -
understandable I think - denial over the events in question and working to get me back to being a functional member of society after I had come to accept it (being treated to a bunch of Mechs walking down the street in front of you followed by a fleet of Dropships taking off tended to do the trick).
She had even done it without me giving away the fact that I had found myself inside a fictional universe and what
that had done for my sanity levels. Although the drugs she had put me on for those first couple of weeks had probably helped a great deal with that...
I had completely lost touch with her shortly after being ‘let loose’ into the real world, when I had admitted everything to Hanse Davion and fallen into a MIIO black hole. After returning to New Avalon from my adventures on Helm, Tharkad and Sakhara and spending a few days each week at the NAIS, I
had thought a few times about trying to get in touch with her. Even just dropping her a line to say ‘hi’ or ‘lets catch up for coffee’ or
something … but every time I had considered it, it had brought back some rather unpleasant memories of those early months in this universe...
In short, I had pussied out.
Well, she was here now … and why was that?
“So uh, it's good to see you Janice, but I have to admit I’m a
bit surprised you’re here waiting for me to wake up.” I tried to move my neck then - only to find resistance and I realized belatedly I was in some kind of light neck brace or restraint stopping my head moving much. Annoying. But probably there for a reason. I glanced around as best I could and saw I was in a hospital room- and from the style I was indeed sure this was NAIS. A
far smaller room than the one I had been in last time which had been a set of apartments generally used by visiting nobility, but then even
having a private room given the aftermath of the battle when I’m sure space was at a premium was a sign that someone was pulling strings.
Probably Quintus Allard, wanting to make sure if I talked in my sleep, no-one would be listening.
“Prince Davion made it
very clear he wanted someone to keep an eye on you when you woke up to answer the questions you were likely to have” she explained as she finished bringing me to a full sitting position took my empty cup before she went out of line of sight for a second, the brace preventing me from following but she returned moments later dragging a stool and carrying a folder to sit down next to the bed. “And given our previous interactions, Quintus Allard volunteered me.”
Yeah, this was
definitely about the ‘no talking in sleep’ thing.
“My condolences” I replied in a deadpan tone as I realized that Hanse was clearly still around to give orders and felt a bit of relief that my efforts
hadn’t been wasted - something that would have been greatly exasperating really. “I seem to have found myself
volunteering for a great many things since we last talked” I admitted, oddly feeling
tired despite just waking up. “Things that have led to … well ...”
“Do you regret volunteering?” she asked after I trailed off before pausing and shaking her head off my
look and holding up a hand. “Sorry, force of habit there. Actually John, I put my hand up to see how you were doing. You fell off the grid - and all the MIIO liaison here would tell me was that you were fine and working with them now. Then you show back up in the First Prince’s
command company of all places as a full blown Mechwarrior? I have to admit that was … a little unexpected. Still, I’m very happy to see that you’ve more than landed on your feet - ejections aside.”
“It’s … been an interesting road” I reflected with as much understatement as I could put into my voice, thinking about my crazy path to this bed. Janice was of course cleared on
how I had arrived in this universe ... but as far as she and almost everyone who knew
how I had come here understood, I was ‘just’ a temporal fish out of water from a slightly different 21st century. A fascinating
curiosity, but nothing more than that.
Only - at last count- fourteen people in the Inner Sphere knew the
complete truth about me and included two House Lords with the rest almost entirely made up of direct reports
to said House Lords and incredibly trusted associates.
Well and a gaggle of mad scientists in Team Banzai. Some of whom might even still be alive...
“But I take it from your statement Hanse Davion is still alive?” I refocused myself, shifting slightly to try and get comfortable.
“Very much alive” Janice nodded. “As is Morgan Hasek-Davion and Jackson Davion and-
“Pappa Company?” I asked, trying to keep my voice steady - although I was rather sure my urgency and angst shone through at that question.
Then I realized she probably didn’t have a clue who the hell I was talking about.
“Uh, they were the unit-”
“The powers that be expected that you would be asking after them” she said as she passed over a couple of sheets of paper I hadn’t seen her holding and I forced myself not to snatch it from her as I accepted it and quickly started skimming through the brief report therein...
Hanse (or more specifically whichever staff officer he or Yvonne Davion had tapped for this) had written a neatly condensed status report on each of the people in the company, clearly for my eyes and I distantly made a mental note to thank them for the gesture. Two of the kids were flagged as WIA. A little banged up, but thankfully nothing more serious than my own injuries with broken bones and the like. The remaining four were already back at CMS enjoying what amounted to ‘leave where you couldn’t
actually leave’ until things got back to normal. Three of their Mechs were trashed but salvageable while three were dispossessed with total constructive losses.
Still, I rather suspected they would be on the priority list for either an upgrade to one of the bigger DCMS Mechs that was going to be salvaged, or, a fresh build from one of the factories on New Avalon after, you know, helping to save the First Prince.
I on the other hand…
Well, Royal Command Battlemechs didn’t
exactly grow on trees and Helms' other three sister-Mechs to mine had long been shipped out to Operational Test and Evaluation pilots. And as I (ROB willing) wouldn’t be anywhere near the front line in the near future, I wasn’t on any kind of priority list for a new Mech
anyway.
Making me, dun dun dun;
Dispossessed!!I honestly couldn’t care less. But I had a sinking feeling that I’d get yet more of that ‘Oh no, you’re Dispossessed? You poor bastard!’ attitude that had driven me
nuts at the academy. With people thinking they had to walk on eggshells around me lest I have a mental breakdown at the overwhelming shame and stigma of no longer ‘really’ being a Mechwarrior…
Still. In the end, I could live with it if it meant Hanse lived too. And if my first ‘command’ had
not resulted in me getting a bunch of cadets I had manipulated into the battle getting killed under my orders-
“You’re thinking about how you manipulated the cadets into joining the fight” Janice observed almost idly and I blinked, then shot her a look as I handed the paper back, huffing slightly.
“I don’t think I ever told you how bloody
annoying your ability to read people's minds was, did I?”
“No, but if I could read minds you wouldn’t need to, would you?” she pointed out sweetly as she put the papers back into the folder and slotted it into her folio.
I gave her my best level stare.
She returned it and I sighed, irritated at her utterly unassailable logic.
“Okay, you win that one” I admitted. “Janice, I manipulated those kids-”
“
Cadets” she interrupted me, with somewhat atypical bluntness, her eyes narrowing slightly. “They were not
kids. They were
soldiers so don’t denigrate them like that. You were not born here so I don’t think you appreciate just what that means to-”
“I know
exactly what it means to them” I cut her off in turn with a not-quite glare to mask my guilt. “The status, the ‘honor’, the expectations upon them to be one and I pressed
every one of those buttons to drag them back into the fight” I didn’t
quite snap at her.
“No John” she corrected me calmly after a few seconds. “You simply did your job - and they did theirs. None of them were conscripts, nor were they children.
Every single one of them was an adult who had sworn their service to the AFFS and knew they were joining to face and kill the enemy in battle - which was going to happen inevitably. If not today, then tomorrow.
Every. Single. One. Of. Them” she punctuated the words for emphasis, “stepped forward to do their duty. It
was a very nice speech you gave them - and I’d be curious to know what 20th or 21st century movie it was actually from by the way - but if you think that it was enough to convince a bunch of scared ‘children’ with war machines to do something they really
didn’t want to do?”
She paused and shook her head at me once.
“If anything, from what Cadet Stengovich told me, she was convinced
she had failed as a Mechwarrior in her first exposure to combat and had made a mockery of her family's legacy. And that it was
you who redeemed her of her failings by giving her a second chance-”
“Failings? That's crazy!” I cut in with no small amount of exasperation. “She and the rest of the cadets got rumbled by a tactical genius leading a hoard of Elite Mechwarriors! That they were able to even stay alive as long as they did is …. oh
very well done” I rolled my eyes and sat back into my bed-chair thing, not quite sulking. Annoyed at myself for falling so neatly into her trap.
If I admitted their skill in staying alive against the impossible odds, then I could hardly think of them as helpless children or deny that they
were trained soldiers of the AFFS, could I?
“
I thought it was too” she agreed lightly as she held my gaze, drilling straight through my self-indulgent moping. “All of you undeniably went above and beyond the call of duty, even by
Davion standards, but it
was your - and their- duty nonetheless. A great number of people with
vastly more experience on the battlefield have judged your performance and seem to very much be in agreement with that sentiment. And
they wanted me to drill that into your head before you got caught up in some kind of guilt loop, given events.”
“...were you always this direct?” I muttered at her, then narrowed my gaze in consideration and looked back up as her words caught up to me. “Hold on, what
exactly did you mean by ‘given events’?”
“Ah. Remember when I said you were the hero of New Avalon?” she asked and I nodded (as best I could anyway). And she opened her folder again and this time, she handed over ... a folded up newspaper?
