* * *
The sound of work was amplified in the impromptu mech hangar. It wasn't as busy as a normal military facility, but the few techs employed by Alexander were hard at work banging away. He stood below the
Whitworth battlemech his uncle had gifted him and looked up at it, still in awe that it was his. The techs above meticulously worked to remove heavy rust build up from the machines joints. The strange storage it had been left in had taken its toll on the
Whitworth' composite metals.
Red stains streaked down across armor plating and it seemed reminiscent to battle wounds.
Why did you leave them hidden like this Uncle? Ever since landing on Gambilon and procuring the military equipment from various hidden caches that had been willed to him, Alexander couldn't help but be left with questions.
Like the
Panther he had secured the week prior, the
Whitworth was found hidden in a massive liquid storage tank. It seems his Uncle Bishop had owned a significant amount of land and had used it to keep military hardware out of sight from prying eyes.
But why would a mercenary do that? Alexander' train of thought was broken as Martha McKay cleared her throat to get his attention. Looking to his left he found her standing at parade rest. He noted she looked much more comfortable wearing grease stained coveralls as opposed to flirtatious bar attire. “Yes, Lieutenant?” He decided to keep a military bearing despite there only being two of them in his unit thus far.
“I've completed all of my primary diagnostics on the
Panther. She's pretty old and her electronics have seen better days, but operational is a word I feel comfortable using now for her status.” Martha sounded proud. “The Particle Projection Canon is in good shape and it seems your uncle had a sizable store of Short Range Missiles stockpiled here.” The lieutenants eyes glanced up at the makeshift gantry protruding from the inner wall of the massive storage tank. Alexander could tell she questioned the circumstances surrounding the equipment's origin.
As did he. Instead of allowing the conversation to stray to that topic, Alex decided to distract her with the job update he had received that morning. “That's good news Lieutenant. If we stay on our planned schedule we should be ready for a contract I've lined up for us.” He didn't look at her. Instead his eyes remained focused on a large piece of debris that fell away from the
Whitworth' lower arm actuator.
“Good news indeed! Where are we headed Captain?” Martha followed Alexander' eyes to the astech who had finally freed the mechs arm of its obstruction. The leak in the tanks ceiling had done quite some damage.
How much time had passed since you were stored here? “The planetary government of Thraxa has offered up a contract for pirate hunting. It seems they don't wish to utilize their own battalion on planet for this as its below their notice, but perfect for a small mercenary command like ours. Once we have boots on the ground we'd be charged with investigating pirate activity in rural areas and back country.” Alex took the opportunity to size up McKay' reaction. “It's not glamorous but it's a start.”
“What about transit Sir?” Is it included to get us and our gear on world?” Mercenaries often hoped for the luxury of having paid transportation between jobs. Alex approved of Martha' concern for logistics.
“We unfortunately have to pay our own way, but this is an opportunity to get our foot in the door. Thraxa is known for its independant sentiments and often try to do things on their own. Getting there and performing well could potentially lead to more work.” It was a stretch, but a gamble the new leader of Bishop' Privateers was willing to take.
The conversation was suddenly interrupted by Alexander' lead technician shouting down from the Whitworth' cockpit. “Um Captain, can ya' come up here for a moment?” Alex excused himself from Lieutenant McKay and took hold of the chain link ladder hanging down from the battlemechs boxy head. Making the climb in short order he pulled himself up onto the square shoulder of his mech. Technician Cole sat in the cockpits hatchway as he waited for the Captain. The fat tech seemed out of place working in the small confines of the machines head but so far Alex couldn't find fault in his work.
As Alex walked the few paces towards the tech, the older man started to give him the run down on what was wrong. “It seems I've run into a snag with programming her boss. Most of the records she should have had of past service has been wiped, but seems there's still memory being occupied by something.” The obese man wiped sweat away from his balding head. “When I try to get into it or get rid of it I get locked out of her systems. And not just like some systems, Sir. All of em'. The old bucket has some weird security in her.”
Alexander thought for a moment as he saw the frustration and curiosity on the technicians face.
More questions. But Uncle, do I really want to know the answers? “Have you tried ignoring it and just move on with the installation?” Not that Alex overly felt comfortable with the idea, but with a shrinking nest egg there wasn't much time for set backs.
Cole rubbed his chin to mock a thoughtful expression. “Well Captain, I suppose if you want to ride around on a potential disastor that's your call.” Shaking his head the tech got back up on his feet. “I advise against ordering that, but by the look of ya' I assume you want me to go ahead with the software installation eh'?”
After a moments consideration Alex simply nodded. “If there's any other odd problems let me know asap.” He started back down the chain link ladder, but stopped before Cole crawled back inside the cockpit. “There wasn't anything strange about the
Panther' restoration, was there?” The tech called back over his shoulder as he descended into the war machines brain. “No Captain. That one went smooth as a Crappelan' bare arse.”
“Very well. Proceed as intended.” Climbing back down to the metal floor of the storage tank, Alexander was plagued with questions.
What were you hiding Uncle. Or, who were you hiding all of this material from? It just didn't make sense.
“Everything ok Captain Bishop?” Martha had waited at the foot of the
Whitworth.
“Yeah. Just a slight hiccup.” Alex looked across the tanker at the
Panther battlemech berthed in a similar makeshift gantry. “Go run one more diagnostic on your mech' Lieutenant. I want to make sure it's perfectly operational.” He paused and then looked back up at his own
Whitworth.
Rust had cracked on places where it had stained the armor plating. The layers were thick from years of storage, but the restoration process was starting to see results. Alexander Bishop stared long and hard at the work his technicians had achieved. Between the cracks he could now see the the remnants of a unit' insignia that had been removed years ago.