Renegades

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Guest chapter by KayEmm

Enemies Abound

By the start of 3152, the situation had completely changed for Dimitri Mandragov. A scant month ago, he had been in near complete control of Alwaid, with no force being able to oppose him. Now he was dealing with three different mercenary units, each of which had ample reasons to want to completely remove him as a threat, and each of which were capable of standing up against his own armies of BattleMechs and tanks. Furthermore, while he had to spread his forces out to maintain control of his conquered territories, they could simply focus their aggression and dismantle his army piecemeal.

Mandragov had no reason to believe that the invading forces would cooperate, but at the same time, he could not risk their choosing to form an alliance. He knew that regardless of their actual goals, all three of them had a common enemy in the form of him and his army, and that alone would give them ample reason to cooperate. Reinforcing that point, his intelligence told him that Farris’ Iron Knights were directly aiming to remove him from power, which would give them reason to want to form an alliance.

The biggest threat was on the western front. At that point, while the Star of Sumer and Iron Knights were not directly working together, they were also operating in the same theatre and as such were the most likely to link up with each other. Eliminating one of them would greatly reduce that risk.

Based on what he knew, Mandragov chose the Star of Sumer as the more vulnerable of the two. While they were a larger force, he also knew that the Iron Knights were being backed by the Esteros assembly, and as such, had more resources that they could immediately call on. Conversely, the Star had only recently dropped onto the world, and had no allies to speak of that they could get aid from. As such, he reasoned that they were more likely to retreat in the face of losses.

While he had a lot of ambition, Mandragov’s plans were also hampered by his logistical realities. As such, his task force was a composite affair, made up of those units that had survived the retreat from Baret and supplemented by what other units he could quickly assemble and dispatch. The resultant unit was headed by a reinforced BattleMech company, augmented by a small collection of modified IndustrialMechs. The bulk of it consisted of a medium tank battalion, supported by conscript infantry and a small artillery detachment. Well aware that his forces were still technologically and qualitatively inferior to their opponents, Mandragov aimed to bridge that gap through sheer weight of numbers. The unit was headed up by Major Gustav Daintz, a Mandragov loyalist, and supported by Captain Johan van der Kriel, a veteran mercenary.

Ironically, the task force would end up having the opposite effect of the one he sought.

-   From Warlords of the 32nd Century, Galatea Free Press

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Guest chapter by KayEmm and Zogster

Crossfire

Outside Abbeville, Alwaid
Esteros

“We’re at Nav Alpha, Captain. Awaiting orders.”

Johan van der Kriel blinked a moment, snapping back to reality. He was in the command cupola of his Patton tank, which was in the middle of an advancing force.

“Captain?” The driver repeated.

“Nav Alpha, yes,” he nodded, quickly bringing up his display and running over the information it presented. “Maintain speed and continue to Nav Bravo.”

He glanced over the display again. All units in his makeshift battalion were accounted for and, despite his own misgivings, the rabble that comprised it were doing a decent job of maintaining formation and coherence. Major Daintz’ BattleMech company had the lead, which meant that should worst come to worst, they would be the first to engage and have the most tactical mobility. Not only that, but they were also shielded by the mass of light vehicles, many of which were actually civilian transports, that were carrying the formation’s infantry forces. Should they make contact with an unexpected enemy force, his unit would be the best protected.

While he had no love for his employer, van der Kriel also fully understood the logic of Mandragov’s plan: isolate one of the enemy units and eliminate it before it could become too great a threat was sound strategy. His target, one of the ones that had come from offworld also made sense, given that they would be further removed from their backers than the unit he had been fighting in Baret, and thus more likely to retreat in the face of losses. And while they didn’t have as much information on this unit as they did on that unit he had previously faced, what they knew suggested that his force could overwhelm it with sheer weight of numbers alone.

And even though he didn’t want to admit it, there was another reason why he would rather be facing this unknown force than the one he had faced in Baret. One part of that battle had weighed on him. He knew that he was lucky to have escaped it alive, and not just because he had been in the thick of the fighting in a heavy tank that would logically draw a lot of fire. Rather, it was one of the enemy BattleMechs in particular that had been on his mind.

As strange as it sounded, it seemed like the Marauder he had faced was coming after him personally. Not because the flow of the battle had given it an opening to come after him. Not because he was in a heavy tank that had been using its artillery cannon to break up the enemy formation. No, it had felt like that ’Mech was out for his blood, like it was targeting him personally.

He’d tried to tell himself that he was overthinking the situation and that he was imagining it. Then he had gone over the battleROMs in order to analyse the situation and gather as much information on the attackers as possible. One part of it had stuck out to him: the opening of the first day of the battle, when Major Fumetti’s ’Mech had been taken out early on, killing him. At first, he had simply put it down to chance, combined with Fumetti’s decision to make himself a target. However, on closer analysis, there was something else that had struck him about what had happened.

The shot that had killed Fumetti had been fired by that same red and black Marauder.

And to his mind, that could not have been just a coincidence.

He flipped open the command channel. “All units, this is van der Kriel,” he announced, his tone clear. “Keep your eyes peeled and open for any signs of trouble. Do not get sloppy; if you see something – anything – then report it immediately.” It felt like he shouldn’t need to remind them of such basic advice, but the fact of the matter was that he did not have much faith in the rabble that passed for Mandragov’s army.

Johan knew that the warlord had leveraged his experience as a guerrilla as a part of this operation. Mandragov had scouts and local assets that were familiar with the terrain keeping eyes on the enemy formation, and ensured that Daintz (and thus he) was kept up to date. They had a good assessment of the enemy’s capabilities, and were confident that weight of numbers and local knowledge would offset their enemy’s technological advantages. And yet, for all that, he couldn’t shake the nagging feeling that there was something that he was missing.

He looked over the tactical display again. His Patton was firmly in the centre of the formation, while Daintz remained in the front. And if that’s where he wants to be, then that’s his choice, he told himself. And better that Marauder goes after him than me.

-----

With the arrival of the newcomers, Kaitlyn Farris had chosen to sit tight for the moment to see what they would do. While her forces were now engaged with Mandragov’s, she was reluctant to commit to any new operations while there was an unknown force in her operational area. While she knew that this unknown force was hostile towards Mandragov’s army, she had no idea how they would react to her own unit. Given the degree that she was outnumbered by the warlord’s army, the last thing she wanted to do was start a fight with another enemy.

They had not yet made any efforts to contact her unit, but there was also the distinct possibility that they were not aware of the Iron Knights’ presence on the world. With the speed that information travel at due to the lack of functional HPGs and the rapidly changing situation, it was entirely likely that the newcomers had an image of Esteros that was six months old.

She’d sat tight for several days as the unknown force had done the same, likely repairing, gathering salvage and consolidating their forces. However, rather than departing, they had apparently gone on the move, suggesting that this was not a raiding party, or that they had designs that went beyond their initial landing site. After some discussion with her fellow officers, she decided to put her unit on the move, marching towards the other force in order to make contact with them and assess if they were a threat. If they were not, then she would have over-planned; but if they were, at the very least she would be ready.

While her units were advancing at a fair speed, she was not being entirely careless in her approach. VTOLs and hovertanks were moving ahead of the rest of the unit, sweeping for any signs of hostile forces, be they be the newcomers, Mandragov’s army or anything else. And they were not the only assets that she had in play.

“Knight Zero-Two here,” Iulia’s voice came over the command channel. Kait would have instantly recognised her friend’s voice, but she also appreciated the professional conduct. “Yamashita has found an unknown force.” Anton Yamashita was one of those assets, riding ahead of the rest of their formation with a dirt bike and only minimal equipment, and reporting only to Iulia. Kaitlyn was not going to question his methods or his approach, given how effective he was. “Grid ref Bravo-Three; heading northwest just south of Abbeville.”

“Understood,” she replied as she looked over her own map display, with the location of her unit highlighted. That’s still south of our last reported location of the newcomers, while heading towards their location. Based on their location, the unknown unit was advancing over relatively open plains, but was headed towards a more rugged, badlands region. “Has he been able to identify them?”

“Not yet,” Iulia admitted.

“Understood.” She updated the map with a new marker for the unidentified force. “Get him to continue to follow them, but be careful.” The last point was more her own concern than anything else. So far, he’d demonstrated an amazing ability to remain unobserved while operating.

She spared the map another glance before continuing. “This is Knight Lead to all units. Change course for heading zero-three-zero and maintain current speed. Recon elements sweep towards grid Bravo-Three.” A chorus of affirmatives followed as the Iron Knights pivoted towards the new heading. By her figuring, she would be approaching from the flank of this unknown force. Too many unknowns, she told herself. And yet I’m marching towards them.

It was the better part of an hour before the next report came in. “Yamashita has them,” Iulia stated. “They are Mandragov’s men; maybe a battalion of tanks, with some ’Mechs as well. They are moving at maybe half our own speed.”

Which means that they’re hostile, Kait assessed. And, based on their position and heading, they’re moving to intercept the newcomers. So if nothing else, we have a common enemy. “This is Knight Lead to all units; prepare to engage.”

-----

Katarina cursed to herself as fire rained down around them.

The Star of Sumer’s advance had been caught in a textbook ambush. She had led their forces into a wide gully, and even as her Warhammer set foot in the shallow river at its base, the enemy had appeared at the treeline on the far side. She had little time to assess the situation before they were under fire. Acting on instinct more than anything, she shifted her massive BattleMech into reverse.

“Eye Command to all units. Break for cover!” Even as she said that, she knew it was futile. The gully was mostly open and clear, save for a scattering of boulders and a few lonely violet trees – all of which were on the enemy’s side of the terrain. She joined up with Peyton’s Gallowglas, leading the Star’s command lance in Lana’s absence, as it drew a bead on the ridge opposite.

“What do we have?” Katarina asked, switching over to a private channel.

“Sensors are going wild,” came the pilot’s calm response. A brief grunt signalled a smattering of missiles raking across the Gallowglas’ torso. Peyton continued unabated. “Too many to make out, all clustered together and coming at us.”

Katarina nodded to herself. She fired her particle cannons up at the ridge line, less at any given target as much to keep the force at bay. A quick glance across her lines showed the situation was dire. Isaías’ tank forces were stuck out in the open, his own heavy lance in the middle of the river. They were sitting ducks for incoming enemy fire.

Another spray of missiles swept down on them. Katarina recoiled from the impacts and fired back once more, hoping for more than expecting a hit. Got to respond better than this, she thought to herself.

“Eye Striker and Pursuit. Advance and protect the tanks. Comet Recon, see if you can get a look at the enemy formation.”

A round of acknowledgements came through her comms. Already she saw her own company’s medium and light ‘Mechs breaking ahead to shield the vulnerable tanks. Isaías’ heavy lance opened fire on the ridge. She watched as return fire mangled a Von Luckner’s treads, leaving it stuck in the middle of the river. At the same time a quartet of BattleMechs jetted into the air, arcing up and ahead to survey the battlefield ahead.

The response was immediate. An overwhelming barrage of flak burst up from over the ridge, darkening the pale blue sky. The quartet of ’Mechs took were rattled with impacts, and rapidly descended below the line of fire. While three landed safely, the Firefly amongst them crashed to the ground, its side smoking.

“Jakub!” Katarina called out in alarm.

“We’re alright,” came the reply.

Katarina allowed herself a brief sigh of relief. “Report.”

“At least a company of BattleMechs, and what looks like a full battalion of vehicles plus emplaced infantry providing fire support.”

“A full…” Katarina trailed off. Estimates of the local warlord’s forces and transportation assets had her expecting to fight equal numbers of inferior, poorly trained forces. Instead, it seemed he pulled out all the stops and mustered a huge portion of his armed forces for one battle. No doubt hoping to take out the Star in a single hit.

Maybe Lana was the lucky one, she thought ruefully.

There were not many options. It was further back now than forward, and a prolonged retreat over open terrain would give the enemy plenty of time to pick them off one at a time. They were shooting wildly, but the sheer volume of incoming fire would wear them down soon enough.

Before she could make the call, the ridge erupted with movement. A dozen BattleMechs crested it and stormed down into the gully, either barrelling down the side or jetting overhead. At the same time, a line of combat vehicles reached the edge, aiming their various cannons and missiles down into the kill box. At their centre she could see a Patton tank, safely ensconced among its escorts, commanding the field.

“Orders?” Peyton asked.

Retreat was no longer an option. In the centre of the BattleMech wave she saw a Hunchback charging at her. As one, she and Peyton swivelled and brought their cannons to bear. Even as it opened up with a blinding array of lasers, they fired back, carving into its legs and torso. Briefly happy that she came off better for the exchange, her Warhammer was rocked with cannon fire. Peyton broke off to deal with the Hunchback, while she fought with the controls to stay upright.

Her gaze fell once more on the Patton tank. Its whole lance had taken an interest in her, and from here there was little she could do. No, there were no options left.

“All points advance! Bring down their BattleMech forces, then take that ridge.” She didn’t need to tell anyone the futility of the order; they likely knew just how bad the situation was.

She surged her Warhammer forwards and opened fire. Her particle cannons slipped just past a wily Blitzkrieg, even as she took more impacts from the tanks above. Katarina knew that only luck would get her out of this.

She also knew that luck had never been on her side.

-----

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“Fire!” Johan ordered, the Patton tank rocking as its Long Tom cannon let loose another round. The shot arced down over the ridge before slamming into an enemy Glory fire support tank, detonating against its armor in a ball of flame and shrapnel. A moment later, a Thunderbolt missile followed through, slamming into its side with another explosion. While damaged by the assault, the enemy tank was also clearly still operational and capable of returning fire. However, it also was limited in its options, with few places to go.

It was a microcosm of the battle as a whole. Daintz’ force had caught the newcomers as they advanced through a canyon, and had taken advantage of the opportunity to attack from the high ground. While their enemies clearly were better equipped, the plan was to simply overwhelm them with sheer weight of numbers from a superior position. And so far, it was working. While the enemy force were holding their ground better than expected, they could not last forever.

A PPC blast smashed into the Manticore next to his tank, flaying armor from its turret. A secondary explosion took out the missile launcher on the side, but regardless, it returned fire. Glancing around, he could see the source of the attack, a Warhammer in the middle of the enemy formation, shielded by other ‘Mechs around it. “That’s got to be their commander,” he considered. “Gunner, line it up.”

Might as well make sure, he told himself as he opened a command channel. “This is van der Kreil to artillery lead. I want a direct strike on my target. All guns.”

He’d only just gotten the affirmative before closing the connection, focusing again on the situation. A core of heavy and assault ’Mechs had formed up, backed by a ring of heavy tanks. It was a sound plan, attempting to neutralise his advantages by focusing fire and forcing any advance to smash hard into their defences. However, Johan was happy to simply batter them down with waves of opponents, using the weight of numbers to his advantage.

Explosions blossomed across the valley as artillery rounds hit home, none of them coming even close to the Warhammer, or even each other. “Bunch of bloody amateurs,” he muttered to himself at the inaccurate fire. His own cannon barked again, the shell finding its mark on its target.

“Don’t let up!” Daintz shouted as his Bandersnatch stepped forwards, its autocannons blazing away, scoring hits on the enemy Warhammer. “We have them!” The Warhammer returned fire, a pair of PPC hits staggering his ’Mech as they blasted armor from its front. The Bandersnatch managed to keep its footing, but slowed its advance.

Serves him right, van der Kriel thought as his crew fired again, sending another shell and Thunderbolt towards the enemy force. Moments later, another barrage of artillery fire rained down, with shots scattering across the valley, including up towards his line. “Watch fire!” He shouted over the command channel. “Do you bloody morons even have any idea what you’re doing?”

“We...” the reply started before degenerating into static.

“Say again?” He demanded.

“-are under at-“ it continued, managing to squeeze some words out between bursts of noise. “-hover-“

He quickly glanced at his tactical display, only to find a new mass of hostile red icons advancing into the rear of his force. Tags began to pop up, labelling them as hovercraft and VTOLs, their icons moving quickly as they ate into his force. “All units, we are under attack form rear flank! Come around!”

“What’s going on?” Daintz demanded.

“We’ve been stabbed in the back!” he yelled back as the Patton’s turret spun around to face the newcomers and assess the situation.

Already a group of hovercraft were tearing along the rear of his formation, spreading missile and laser fire into whatever targets presented themselves. Several VTOLs were supporting them, adding their own missiles to the assault while weaving in among return fire.

An LRM carrier erupted into flames as its ammunition detonated, tearing the vehicle apart from within. Moments later, a Phoenix Hawk leapt past the burning wreck, its PPC stabbing into the side of a Vedette tank. A Spider and Wasp joined it, spreading laser fire to whatever targets presented themselves as they jumped. He knew that the two light ‘Mechs couldn’t do much damage, but their mobility alone would make them hard to pin down.

“Who are they?” Daintz demanded.

“Give me a bloody moment,” he shot back as more contacts appeared on the screen. A row of medium and heavy BattleMechs were advancing from the south, taking advantage of the chaos caused by their vanguard. As he zoomed in, he could see that they were all wearing appropriate camouflage, save for one of them.

A distinctive red and black Marauder.

“Bloody hell...” he whispered, his throat dry.

“Your orders?” His gunner spoke up.

“Wipe them off the face of Esteros,” he managed. “Do it!”

There was a quick affirmative before the Patton rocked under the recoil of its weapons. The Long Tom shell landed near a Pegasus, sending the hovercraft into a spin before it crashed into a rocky outcropping. It was a small victory, but he’d take it. More fire joined his, even if it was scattered and uneven. He could see that many of his men were still engaged with their original targets, and were torn between his orders and their actual objective.

Daintz wheeled his Bandersnatch around, the broad-bodied BattleMech turning its attention towards the new arrivals. His autocannons scattered shot across the Marauder’s body, while a flight of missiles added to the damage. The Marauder seemed to simply shrug it off, before it returned fire.

Johan could almost see what was about to happen.

One of its two PPC bolts went wide. The second speared straight into the Bandersnatch’s head, drilling through the cockpit before the last of its energies spilled out the back.

-----

Kaitlyn Farris didn’t have any advance intelligence on the Mandragov force that the Iron Knights had just engaged, but she already knew that their leader was in the Bandersnatch that Iulia had just decapitated. Her friend and second had an uncanny ability to identify the commander of an enemy force and then eliminate them.

She had no doubt that the enemy force would be reeling from the loss of their commander, and she fully intended to take advantage of the situation. “All units, push hard!” she called out over the command channel. “Do not let up!” Her ’Mech stomped forwards, its heavy footfalls reverberating as it bore down on the enemy lines.

Ahead of her, the opposing force were doing their best to pull themselves together. Her advance force had already taken out their artillery, and had cut into their rear support elements before they could respond. Now they were caught between her force and their original targets, and likely were still trying to figure out their next move. Her job was to not give them that opportunity.

She opened fire with her Warhammer IIC’s twin PPCs, a wave of heat hitting her as the two weapons unleashed their hellish energies. A pair of artificial lighting bolts smashed into the side of an already damaged Manticore, devouring armour before incinerating the structure and vital systems within. On her sensors she could see a sudden spike of heat from its reactor before it shut down, taking the vehicle offline.

That’s one.

Her actions drew the attention of the enemy, with fire coming back in her direction. Autocannon shells and long-range missiles peppered her armor, rocking the Warhammer but not penetrating its thick hide. She shrugged it off, continuing her advance alongside the other ’Mechs of her unit. Behind her, Wotzel’s Catapult unleashed a rain of long-range missiles on the enemy force, while Vallaki’s Thunderbolt contributed its own weapons fire to the assault.

And Iulia’s Marauder simply followed them, contributing its own frighteningly accurate, long-range fire. Unlike all the other ’Mechs in the Iron Knights’ force that were wearing local camouflage, Iulia had kept it in its standard, red and black-striped scheme. She knew that her friend had reasons why she had made that choice, and Kait was not about to question them.

A Zhukov tank was pummelled by their attacks, its crew bailing out as black smoke began to pour from the vehicle. Behind it, a Schildkrote weathered an assault, even as its main gun was clearly knocked out of action. Several enemy BattleMechs, mostly medium models, began to stagger out of the canyon to face her unit, presumably aiming to combine fire and try to slow her force down.

One of them, a Lineholder, focused its fire on her, hoping to take advantage of the damage already done by its colleagues and the numbers she was facing. Missiles scattered damage across the Warhammer’s hull, while lasers further worried the armor. A Vedette and Demon chose to join in, adding their own lasers and autocannon fire to the mix. Kaitlyn was rocked in the cockpit as her ’Mech staggered under the impacts, but she weathered the storm.

She returned fire on the Lineholder, giving back far better than she got, even as she was again battered by the heat from her weapons. The twin PPCs smashed armor off the Lineholder’s dome-like body, while a pair of medium pulse lasers lashed it with brilliant green energy darts. The enemy BattleMech reeled under the assault, having just had nearly three tons of armor smashed away from it in seconds.

Seeing a chance, and ignoring the warnings from her own systems, Kaitlyn fired her jump jets. The Warhammer took to the air, twisting to keep the Lineholder within its sights while putting it between herself and the two tanks. The Demon immediately cut around to follow her, only to be hammered by fire from Iulia’s Marauder. One PPC tore into its side, smashing one of its wheels clean off its body and sending the medium tank into a spin.

Confident that she no longer had that to worry about, Kait opened fire again on the Lineholder. Her PPCs bored deep into its body and tore apart its boxy missile launcher, while the lasers lashed its body. Her missiles capitalised on the damage, tearing through the holes in the armor to strike at the vital systems within. To their credit, the Lineholder’s pilot managed to keep the ‘Mech on its feet through the assault, even if it was clear that it was struggling.

A warning from her BattleMech’s system grabbed Kaitlyn’s attention moments before two flights of missiles smashed into it. Several more alarms went off as the weapons penetrated her depleted armor, shattering several heat sinks. A glance around showed her the source of the attack, a Cobra that had managed to keep itself away from the battle. Seeing an opening, the battered Lineholder opened fire with its remaining weapons, the lasers carving more armor from the Warhammer’s front.

Before the Cobra could fire again, a PPC bolt tore through its back. A moment later, the entire side blew apart as its ammunition detonated, sending its arm flying off while the rest of the ‘Mech staggered. Badly damaged, the Cobra began to back off while behind it, Leon’s Phoenix Hawk gave her a brief nod.

With that threat removed, Kait turned her attention back towards the Lineholder. She opened up again, feeling the sweat beading on her brow as she unleashed her BattleMech’s arsenal on it. The strain was worth it, with the two PPCs smashing into the Lineholder’s chest, eagerly devouring the structure and the sensitive systems within. The BattleMech staggered for a moment before its dome-like head split open, the MechWarrior rocketing away on their ejection seat. Deprived of control, the Lineholder crashed backwards, its reactor shutting down.

Ahead of her, a battered Roughneck was pummelled by a volley of PPC fire that tore into its side, destroying its cannon. Next to it, a shot took the leg off a Burrower MiningMech MOD at the knee, knocking it down. Led by a battered but defiant Warhammer, a group of BattleMechs advanced out of the canyon, opening fire on the remaining Mandragov forces with a vengeful fury.

Now being pressured from both sides, the remaining forces began to break and run. A motley collection of BattleMechs and combat vehicles pulled away, firing less to kill and more to discourage any pursuit. “Give them an opening,” Kait ordered as she continued to fire while being careful not to advance too far. It wasn’t just that she didn’t want to corner the enemy forces or prolong the battle, but also because she still wasn’t sure what the other force was going to do. There was every chance that she had just ended one battle before starting another one.

Here we go, she told herself, taking a deep breath. “I am Major Kaitlyn Farris, commander of the Iron Knights,” she called out over her Warhammer’s speakers. "I have no desire to fight you. I think that we are, in fact, on the same side here.”

-----

In her Warhammer’s steaming hot cockpit, Katarina tried to catch her breath. She took a few seconds as the Clan-designed ’Mech alongside her turned and addressed her own. It was like Enkidu’s big brother; larger and more imposing, but very familiar in design. Was that a good omen? she thought.

“Orders?” Peyton asked, calm as ever.

“Drive them off. Don’t pursue,” she said curtly between pants. She loosened the collar on her flightsuit, glad for the instant relief. Still, she had left their saviours waiting long enough already.

“nu Banda Katarina Morrison, 2IC, Star of Sumer,” she finally said over her ‘Mech’s loudspeakers.

The was the briefest of pauses before the reply came. “nu Banda?”

“Captain,” Katarina said immediately, cursing inwardly. She had already ruined this. She could tell.

“Captain,” the Iron Knights’ commander replied.

Katarina finally calmed her breathing. She took another moment to compose herself, recalling what Kaitlyn had said. “And I believe you’re right. We’re tasked with liberating Alwaid from its warlord.”

“Dimitri Mandragov,” Farris replied. Her own Warhammer nodded in acknowledgement.

She was momentarily interrupted by a report from Peyton. Mandragov’s forces were in full retreat, and they had broken off pursuit as ordered. The clear distraction from the Iron Knights’ commander indicate that she was receiving the same news.

“Looks like the field is won,” Farris said. “Although I don’t think this has to be our last collaboration.”

“Agreed,” Katarina said, finally cracking a smile. “I’ll get you in touch with our commander. There’s a lot to sort out.”

[Deadborder]

Guest chapter by KayEmm and Zogster

Meet and Greet

Well here goes nothing. Kaitlyn Farris climbed out of the cockpit of her Warhammer IIC, clambering down the boarding ladder before reaching the ground. It was dry and parched rock, punctuated by patches of purple scrub, which served to complement the pale blue sky. Reminds me a lot of home, she considered.

She had done her best to look presentable under the circumstances, changing her cooling vest for a functional field jumpsuit. Her signature scarf was now wrapped around her head, helping to protect her against both the heat and the lack of ozone. Leon joined her, similarly attired, with Iulia just behind him. Her friend and second was looking decidedly sulky, dressed in a simple sleeveless shirt and fatigue pants topped with a jacket and a headscarf rather than her signature black leathers. It was a rare concession to practicality.

“You know we’re potentially letting them decapitate us in one go,” Leon commented. “I mean, I’d be fine with that if not for the fact that it leaves Buster next in the chain.”

“We need to do this,” she confidently replied. “They are potential allies. And, if nothing else, we just rescued them and they wanted to talk. That tells me a lot.”

“Besides, they feel honest,” Iulia added.

“Getting a vibe off of them?” Leon asked. “Or did your divination tell you that?”

“The latter,” she simply finished.

The DropShip before them had one of its doors open, the boarding ramp extended. Kaitlyn took the lead, heading up the ramp and inside to the ship’s cavernous ’Mech bay. Already their hosts were in the process of repairing their damaged machines. She slid her scarf back down to its usual spot around her neck as she looked around, her two colleagues doing the same. “Their DropShip looks a lot nicer than ours,” she considered.

“Low bar to clear,” Leon added.

While the signs of age around Ur’s cavernous BattleMech bays were clear to see, so was the care and attention to detail placed in its maintenance. Kaitlyn immediately spotted the battered Warhammer she had met on the field, alongside a BattleMaster that was further along in repairs, most likely from an earlier conflict.

A trio waited to greet them just inside the ’Mech bay. Each wore a crisp white uniform, no doubt intending to make a good first impression, while certainly proving a direct contrast to the Iron Knights’ mismatched, functional jumpsuits. The short-haired woman in the middle stood out however, both for her earnest smile and the heavy cast on her lower left leg. She hobbled forwards, leaning on a crutch and stated, “Welcome aboard.”

“Thank you for being willing to talk,” she simply acknowledged. “I am Major Kaitlyn Farris, commander of Farris’ Iron Knights. This is my second, Princess Iulia Dragan, and my aide, Lieutenant Leon Mackinaw.”

“And thank you for your assistance.” She extended a hand to shake, before gesturing to her companions. “Ugala Lana Kotovski, commander of the Star of Sumer. My second in command, nu Banda Katarina Morrison and aga’ush Jakub Day, recon lance commander.”

“We’ve met,” Katarina said, offering her own hand.

Kaitlyn took her hand and shook it, and then followed through with Katarina, a smile on her face. “I wish it could have been under better circumstances,” she admitted. “No less, thank you for being willing to talk and negotiate.” The ranks sounded odd to her, but Katarina had already explained her own. It didn’t take too much imagination to figure out what the other two titles meant.

“I can see why nu Banda Morrison was in charge of operations there,” Leon added.

“Oh…” Lana glanced down at the cast. “Don’t mind that. Braking thruster failure on a combat drop. It looks worse than it is.”

“We were hired by the Esteros Assembly, the legitimate ruling body of the world,” Kaitlyn explained. “Our mission was to restore order to the world after it descended into chaos following the Jade Falcon’s abandoning it. What we found was a continent full of warlords with their own surprisingly large private armies.”

“While we were loosely aware of your unit’s presence, we had no idea of where exactly you were or what you were doing here,” she continued. “But the fact that we have a common enemy tells us a lot.”

The Star’s commander nodded her understanding. “Accurate intel has been hard to come by with these emerging states. We came across a similar situation.” She gestured towards a nearby elevator. “I’ve set up a briefing in our command center, where I hope we can share our findings. Shall we?”

“Thank you,” Kaitlyn replied with a polite nod. “Lead on.”

With that, Lana turned and led the proceedings. The visitors drew few reactions from the workers as they passed by the towering BattleMaster. Off to one side, Kaitlyn saw the junior officer lean over to Katarina and whisper, “Is she really a princess?”

She also couldn’t help but notice that Iulia smiled for a moment before pausing in her step, looking up at one of the BattleMechs. “Is something wrong?” She asked.

“Maybe,” Iulia replied, staring at the BattleMaster. “I do not know.”

The short walk and elevator ride told Kaitlyn a few things, most of which amounted to confirming that the Ur was in far better shape than their own Union-class ship, the Red Son. And, if it wasn’t a newer ship, then at the very least it had been upgraded and overhauled relatively recently.

While Lana’s designation of her command center may have been overly generous, the converted meeting room they found themselves in was at least functional, and, Kaitlyn considered, again in better shape than its counterpart on her ship. A holotable dominated the room, while a bank of monitors overlooked the proceedings. The six of them assembled around the central table, with the two units’ representatives facing each other.

“Our unit was hired by the Alynia Mercantile League to restore trade from Esteros.” She tapped a few buttons on the holotable, bringing up a starmap of the surrounding systems. “They rely on supplies from this region to continue manufacturing, but everything’s been thrown into chaos in the vacuum created by the Jade Falcon departure. When we learned about the situation, we decided to break the warlords’ hold to prevent future disruptions.” If she caught the look of concern from her second in command, Lana didn’t show it.

Kait connected a datachip to the holotable before changing the display. An image of the continent floated over the table’s surface, its landmass a patchwork of different colors. “This is us here,” she explained as she indicated towards a red segment headed in from the western coast. “These territories are the ones we have reclaimed from the warlords. They’re now being secured by peacekeeping troops sent by the Esteros Assembly from Alkahera.”

Lana stepped in to tap a couple of controls, highlighting the northwestern point of the continent. “Our unit made landing here, which is where we also got an update of the situation.”

Kaitlyn returned to the controls. Another touch of the button covered much of the continent’s center in orange. “This is the territory that we know is controlled by Dimitri Mandragov, the warlord who’s forces we just faced. He has his capitol here in Tirana, right in the middle of it.” She indicated to one of the cities. “He styles himself as a liberator and fighting for the people, but from what we’ve seen, he’s little more than a petty tyrant.”

“From what you said, it’s likely that it was his forces that you faced when you landed,” she continued. A brief nod from Lana confirmed her suspicions. “Which is the big problem. From what we can tell, Mandragov has at least a battalion of BattleMechs, and a regiment of tanks and other armored vehicles. On top of that, he has support forces made up of conventional infantry, IndustrialMechs and other units.”

“The ones we faced at the mine seemed to be more of a reserve force,” Katarina added. “Mostly industrial mods and security ’Mechs. That’s more of what we expected to face than the forces we saw today.”

“Between what we faced in Baret and what was here today, we figure that we’ve destroyed or disabled about a company of ’Mechs,” Leon noted. “But that doesn’t solve our big two problems. Number one is, of course, the numerical disparity. They were probably trying to kill you with the sheer weight of numbers there.”

“Number two is something even more worrying,” he continued. “As you probably figured, there shouldn’t be that many ’Mechs on Esteros at all, and you’d be right. From what we’ve been able to tell through questioning PoWs, including a former warlord who was very willing to give up everything, they have been supplied by an unknown offworld party for reasons that we can only guess at.” He offered a shrug. “Wish I could tell you more, but that’s what I have.”

Lana nodded her understanding. “I wouldn’t be surprised if the forces at the mine were set aside after this influx of new supplies.”

“The upside of it is that Mandragov doesn’t have any aerospace assets, nor any way to move his forces en-masse like DropShips or the like,” Leon noted. “The downside is that between our two units, we’re probably now his top priorities to kill.”

“The rest of the continent is divided up between other, smaller warlords,” Kait added. “Most of them have much smaller armies than Mandragov’s and largely have survived by staying out of his way. On top of that, there’s issues with bandits and the like, as well as a rogue mercenary unit that is still unaccounted for. All that we know is that it’s somewhere in the eastern half of the continent.”

Lana took a long moment to look at the map in silence, before giving a solemn nod. “Thank you for everything you’ve shared. That's filled a lot of holes in the situation. And there’s definitely more going on here than we first thought.”

She looked up, directly at Kaitlyn. “But mostly I want to thank you for coming to our aid. You put your unit on the line for the sake of strangers, and for that I’m in your debt.”

Kaitlyn offered a small smile back. “We had a common enemy, and I was not going to simply hang your people out to dry,” she admitted. “Ironically, your presence had helped us by pulling Mandragov’s forces away from us. So I guess that we were repaying the favor.”

“The question then is how to proceed,” Lana began. “It seems we have a shared objective, and a common enemy in our way. From what you’ve gathered of his forces, Mandragov likely has more under his command than either of us could handle separately. So I propose an alliance. Our two units work together to bring peace to Esteros. The Star of Sumer is ready to stand by your side.”

Iulia leaned in to Kaitlyn. “They speak true,” she quietly whispered into her ear. “Their words are honest, and their hearts match.”

“Good to know,” Kaitlyn gave a small nod back, before returning to the trio. “I agree with you entirely, Ugala Kotovski,” she spoke. “We consolidate our forces and work together towards removing Mandragov as a threat, while sharing intelligence, pooling supplies and the like”

“I’m sure we can work out some deal regarding salvage and the like,” Leon added. “We were getting a lot of our pay in that form. But on the other side, we’ve had a lot more salvage to collect than we’d expected, so there is that.”

Kaitlyn glanced down over the map before pointing out several locations. “Based on what we know, the survivors of that force likely pulled back towards Abbeville here. However, I wouldn’t be surprised if they withdrew further in order to link up with other forces. I think that it should be our first target; maybe we’ll have a fight, maybe we’ll simply be securing it.”

“I have a man who can help us,” Iulia offered. “A scout, of sorts. I can send him ahead to assess the situation. He is, after all, how we found you.”

“Maybe we can move up our own ships,” Leon offered. “Create a mutual forward base and the like.”

Lana nodded to Leon. “Agreed. I feel our mobility will be our greatest asset. I don’t have the same recon forces that you do, but what we have is at your disposal.”

She returned her attention to Kaitlyn. “I think we’ve got a solid foundation to work from. It’ll take us a bit to get back to strength after this scrap, but that’s time we can use to plan ahead and prepare.” Lana straightened up, and extended her hand across the table. “I’m looking forward to working with you, Major Farris.”

[Deadborder]

Kaitlyn stood on a catwalk, overlooking Ur’s massive repair bay. The Star of Sumer’s BattleMechs stood spread out beneath her, all showing signs of their recent conflicts. Her presence here was as much about gathering information as collecting her thoughts and figuring what she and her unit would be doing from here. Allies will help, she told herself. But we are still up against a lot.

Both Leon and Iulia were engaged in their own work, trying to gather information in their own way. She knew that Leon would be more at home with these mercenaries, simply because he had more connection to their pasts and backgrounds that she did; the everyman versus the island. Conversely, she knew that whatever Iulia was doing - and she wasn’t going to think too hard about it - would also be helpful.

A noise behind her drew her attention. The Star’s second in command approached, with a pair of bottles between her fingers and holding two glasses in her other hand. “Major Farris,” she said. “I never got a chance to properly thank you for helping me out on the field. Care for a drink?”

Kaitlyn turned to her and nodded. “nu Banda Morrison,” she managed with a smile. “I’d like that, thank you.”

“Gin from a distillery on Sudeten. Not the easiest to get a hold of, but well worth it.” She indicated further down the catwalks with a nod of her head. “I’ve got a spot, if you’d like.”

“Lana sends her regards. I’m sure she’d join us,” Katarina paused for a moment and raised her voice. “If she wasn’t determined to work herself to death.”

The faint response of “Love you too,” echoed down the corridors. Katarina gave a solitary chuckle. Kaitlyn couldn’t help but smile too.

Her spot turned out to be an out-of-the-way overlook, well above the work and noise but still with a grand view of the ’Mech bay below. Curiously enough, a pair of old armchairs had been maneuvered into position and bolted to the floor. Kaitlyn could only imagine it was easier to accomplish in microgravity as she looked around, noting the differences between the layout of the Ur and her own ship. The two ships may have been both Unions, but both had lived very different lives.

It was a pattern that she was seeing a lot of.

Katarina dropped into position and poured into both glasses. She offered one to Kaitlyn, then raised her own. “To new alliances.”

Kait sat and took the glass. “To the unexpected,” she replied with a similar gesture, before taking a sip.

“I was impressed by your people at the briefing, and in the field.” Katarina said. “That says a lot about their commander.”

Kaitlyn smiled a little in reply. “Your people are equally as capable,” she simply replied. After a thoughtful pause, added. “I have to say, it seems a bit weird that you had a junior officer at your command meeting.”

“Jakub?” Katarina asked. When Kait nodded, she said “That’s… a bit of a story, actually.”

“We’ve got time,” Kaitlyn replied, lifting her drink.

“Alright. So what you’ve got to understand is that this is sort of three different mercenary commands. The Star of Sumer, the Comets and the Evil Eye all worked together in the latter stages of the Jihad and, as happens, all got pretty savaged in the fighting. So by the end of it, they decide to unite under one command.”

“The Star was the largest component and had most of its infrastructure intact - like our old DropShip - but the others still brought their commanders and their own family traditions. So they set up a sort of power sharing thing where the unit’s overall commander would be from one of those three families. The idea was that each company in the unit was run by the heads of those families, and they would all be MechWarriors to someday take over the unit.”

“So you, Jakub and Lana are the current heads of those families?” Kait asked.

Katarina weighed her words for a moment. “Basically. Traditionally, Jakub would have taken company command as soon as he became a MechWarrior.”

“But saner heads prevailed,” Kaitlyn offered.

“Mostly Jakub’s. Lana and I understand he’s going to be the unit’s next commander, but he wants to earn it, you know?” Katarina leaned back and cast her gaze to the DropShip’s ceiling. “I figure most family mercenary commands have their silly traditions, but I kind of hope others don’t have it as bad as us.”

Kait sat back on her seat, considering what to say for a moment before finally opening up. “I know what you mean,” she spoke as she fidgeted with her glass. “Blackstone’s Iron Knights were always led by a member of the Blackstone family. Their second was always a member of the Farris family. From what I know, it’s an arrangement that goes back to their pre-mercenary origins over two centuries ago. Blackstone was the head of a noble house, and Farris was the leader of their personal guard”

“The Iron Knights worked for the Word during the Jihad,” she continued. Katarina’s face was carefully impassive at that news. “Morgan Blackstone, their leader at the time, stayed loyal until the last days of the Protectorate. Then, probably realizing that he had no other way out, he chose to run and took the unit to the Periphery out by the ruins of the old Rim Worlds Republic.”

“They survived for the next...” Kait trailed off as she tried to figure it out in her head, “Well let’s just say it was a long time as low-rent mercs and sometimes pirates. The unit remained under the command of a Blackstone aided by a Farris all along, something that helped maintain stability and stopped it from falling apart altogether.”

“My family were very much aware of their place in the unit and the idea of continuity. I was raised with the intent that I would continue that role and my family line. My parents even arranged a marriage for me that would bring the unit a powerful ally. That, uh, did not quite work out.” Her tone suggested that there was a lot more that she wasn’t saying, but was still trying to be circumspect about it. Katarina nodded her understanding.

Kait offered a weak smile. “And then things fell apart,” she admitted. “There aren’t any Blackstones left and, well, I’m the last Farris. I, uh, had to take control of the unit after things went bad in a really, really messy way. People rallied behind me and saw me as the best chance to keep the unit going, even though I was not at a good place myself. I wound up falling into command because of my family name and past.”

“And, uh, that’s how I ended up here,” she finished. “I mean, I kind of grew into the role, and I like to think that I’m doing a decent job of it. But it’s not like I really had that much of a choice in the matter.” She shrugged. “But I can’t just abandon that responsibility either.”

“And I suppose everyone expects you to continue that family, right?” Katarina asked, understanding clear in her voice.

Kait sighed before continuing. “Unfortunately, I can’t have children of my own for… various reasons,” she explained. “It’s something I long ago accepted and chose to live with. And while Lady Dragan - Iulia - has offered to act as a surrogate for me, she’s also got her own reasons. Trust me, it’s a huge mess.”

“I’m sorry, I..” Katarina trailed off, her face flushed with embarrassment. “I probably shouldn’t have asked.” She avoided Kaitlyn’s gaze for a moment, instead sipping on her drink.  “That can’t be easy, what with all the expectations on you.”

Kaitlyn shrugged it off. “It’s fine. You don’t need to apologize.” She paused a moment. “There’s… things going on that are beyond my control, and I have, uh, considered options. I think that’s the best way to put it.” She took another sip from the gin, enjoying the flavor.

“How about yourself, if you don’t mind my asking?” She asked. “I can imagine that complicated family politics has put a lot of pressure on you there. Although, you mentioned that you and Lana were the heads of your families. I suppose that also has a little more flexibility than being the last of it.” She took another sip from her drink. “This is good, by the way. You have great taste.”

“Thanks,” Katarina said, raising her own glass. “No, it’s…” She chewed on her lip for a moment, trying to find the words. “I feel kinda selfish in saying that I don’t really want to have kids of my own. The kind of expectations around these traditions make family feel more like an obligation than anything, and it really shouldn’t. I practically raised Jakub after he lost his dad, and it almost feels like I’ve done my part for that, you now?”

She spared Kaitlyn a sheepish glance. “Probably not what you wanted to hear. I just… Sometimes I wonder just who we’re following these traditions for. Everyone expects these things from us, and I get that it keeps people happy, but at some point you’ve just got to be a bit selfish and do what’s right for you.” She gave it a moment’s thought and added “So I’m happy letting things stop at me. Uh.. I know that’s not what people want, but well, tough.”

“So what makes you happy?”

Kaitlyn blinked a moment before she spoke again. “So this is going to sound weird, but the truth is that I kind of like, well, learning about the Inner Sphere and its people.” She gave another sigh before continuing. “I grew up on a dying world out in the Periphery. It had a small population and was isolated, with little interstellar traffic or trade. There wasn’t an HPG either, even before the Blackout. And on top of that, I was raised in an isolated community on that world. So you know, a remote part of a remote place.”

“I knew that the Inner Sphere existed, and that it had hundreds of worlds,” she explained. “But at the same time, I really didn’t know much about it. When we arrived on Kandersteg, I was amazed by just how advanced the world was, and how heavily populated it was. And then I got told that its hundred-million population was low by Inner Sphere standards.”

“So that’s what I do,” she finished. “I try to learn what I can so I’m less of an obvious fish out of water.”

Katarina raised her glass with a smirk. “And you might as well get paid to do it.”

“Might as well,” Kaitlyn smiled back.

Katarina took a long pull and settled back into her armchair. She looked over at the woman sitting next to her, and couldn’t help but smile. There was a strength to Kaitlyn Farris, one that Katarina felt would not buckle no matter how much she bore on her shoulders. It would have been too easy to abandon the Star in the field, letting Mandragov’s forces crash against them until both were shattered. Instead the Major had gambled on Katarina’s forces, and it seemed they had both won.

“To allies,” she said in the end, raising her glass once more.

[Deadborder]

Iulia was quietly whispering to herself, repeating a chant over and over again as she worked. Slowly and carefully she was walking around the BattleMaster, doing her best to keep it at a distance from her as she walked backwards in a crouch, tracing a circle around the BattleMech in chalk.

Jakub watched nervously from a distance. For as long as he could remember, rumours had circled around Gilgamesh. Members of the Star had all kinds of ideas about it; that it was cursed, that it wanted vengeance for its capture or that it extracted a toll for its victories. Jakub had never known quite what to believe, but to see this newcomer respond in such a way unsettled him.

Which was when he realised that he was being watched. Without stopping in her movement or her chant, Iulia glanced up at the young MechWarrior. Their eyes locked for a moment before Jakub looked away. Unperturbed, the witch returned her focus to her work.

He cautiously approached as she finished up, closing the circle. Standing, she looked up at the BattleMech, her eyes narrowed. “That will hold you for now,” she simply finished, before glancing towards Jakub.

“Hey…” He said nervously, glancing between Iulia and the circle she had completed. “Jakub Day. We - I was in the meeting.”

“Captain Iulia Dragan,” she simply replied, turning back from the BattleMaster.

“I’ve never seen anyone do something like that before. It’s… Well, can I ask what that was?”

“There is a curse on this BattleMech,” she explained. “I am drawing a protective circle to contain it.”

She carefully watched his reaction, gauging his feelings. Of everything that passed across his face, surprise was not amongst them. He took a moment before he said “That… makes sense.” Iulia gave him a moment to continue. “People have always said there was something about Gilgamesh.”

“Tell me.”

“It’s been with the unit forever, but people always seem to get hurt piloting it. Lana’s been hurt a lot.”

His voice turned quiet for a moment, but he pressed on. “Our last two commanders were killed piloting it as well.”

“Interesting,” she nodded. “And yet, it makes sense. That is what it felt like to me.” She paused, with something else on her mind. She tilted her head for a moment as she looked at Jakub.

“Lots of people with the Star say it’s cursed. But how did you know?”

“I am a witch,” she simply replied.

Jakub blinked in surprise. “Wow, that’s…that’s cool,” he said, with genuine enthusiasm. “Have you seen something like this before?”

“Sort of,” she considered. “Not a BattleMech. I did once travel to a cursed world. That place was… not good at all. I am glad we did not linger there.”

“I don’t think I’ve met a witch before,” Jakub said. “I mean, not that I know.”

“My mother was a witch,” she explained. “As was her mother before her, and her mother before that. She trained me in her arts.”

Jakub nodded. “But Kaitlyn introduced you as ‘Princess.’ So are you a princess as well?”

“My mother is the queen of our world,” Iulia stated, factually.

“A witch queen?” Jakub asked. All manner of images from bad fantasy holos flashed through his head, but he shook them away. “I mean…I don’t want to presume, but wouldn’t you have, um, princess duties? How come you’re out here?”

“I am the favored of my mother’s daughters,” she explained. “Not only was I the first, but I also had the strongest magic.” That last part was said with more than a little satisfaction. Iulia smiled a little. “It is…complicated. But my place is with the Iron Knights.”

“Wow.” He paused, taking in what was before him. Out of nowhere, one of their new allies had stepped forward to help with a long-standing problem within the unit. And while what she was saying was almost unbelievable, he had no reason to doubt her intentions.

“How do I help?” he asked.

She looked thoughtful for a moment. “Much of my magic is helped by knowledge.”

Jakub looked down for a moment. “I admit, I don’t know anything about magic. And I know that this is a dangerous profession. People are going to get hurt and killed.” He looked up once more, meeting Iulia’s gaze. “But if there’s anything I can do to stop that, however small it is, I want to.”

Iulia smiled warmly. “Whatever knowledge you can share helps,” she explained. “Like this BattleMech. It was not on the battlefield, but also neither was your commander due to her injury. I then assume this is her ’Mech.”

Jakub nodded. “It is. It usually goes to the commander. It’s our biggest ’Mech, but it’s also sort of a tradition.”

“Can you tell me more about it? Does it have…” she considered her words. “A history?”

He looked up at the towering war machine, pondering his words for a moment. “I guess you could say that.” He returned his attention to Iulia with a nod. “It’s been with the Star for about as long as the unit’s been around. Way I heard it, our first commander Larissa shot the BattleMaster’s head off and captured it. She called it Gilgamesh. The unit had this theme around Sumerian mythology; it was a big thing of hers.”

“I had noticed,” Iulia nodded.

“It’s passed through a number of hands, but it’s always at the forefront of our battles. And uh…well, there’s a lot of records of pilots getting hurt and killed in it. Lana thinks it’s just statistics, but Katarina’s worried it’s going to kill her some day.” He looked away, uncertain.

“And what do you believe?” Iulia asked, examining the young man closely,

“I don’t really know,” Jakub replied. “I never really thought about magic before… Um, no offense,” he added sheepishly.

“No, it is understandable. Everyone has their own beliefs,” she stated. “And mine are… not common, yes.”

“I want to believe that Lana’s right, that it’s just a target for being our biggest ’Mech. But it feels like it’s something more. Like, right down in my gut.” He shrugged. “Mostly I just…I want to be able to do something. I want to try and help, do whatever I can to keep, uh…” He trailed off, his courage seemingly failing.

“Keep the people you love safe.”

Jakub blinked in surprise. Iulia’s words had cut straight to his heart, saying exactly what he had felt. He nodded wordlessly.

“Come. There may be something you can do.”

-----

It was a crude thing nestled in Jakub’s hands, but one that had been assembled with great care. Iulia had guided him to collect its materials, both throughout Ur and in the surrounding wilderness.

“The bird that had injured Lana was much like an albatross,” Iulia had explained as they gathered parts for their construction. “It was an omen for travelers back on Earth. Though the worlds are different and the forms do change, the nature of things that leads a witch to them remains the same throughout space.”

And so they had collected what they needed. Small twigs from a particular tree, a polished stone from the bottom of stream and a purplish leaf with a curious, serrated edge. But there were more personal things too; a wad of Isaías’ gum, a plastic strand from a medical bracelet and one of Katarina’s hair ties. They had even dug up Archie, the plush toy Archer that Jakub hadn’t seen in years to incorporate a piece of his loose stuffing.

And so he held the results in his hands, a small, roughly assembled figure. With its broad chest and smooth stone for a face, he couldn’t help but think it resembled a BattleMaster.

“What now?”

“You should place it in the cockpit.” Iulia nodded to Gilgamesh’s impassive dome ahead of them. “Somewhere secure, but visible.”

And so he did. It was a simple matter to open up the cockpit and clamber inside. Iulia watched from out on the catwalk, being careful not to step within a particular radius of the ’Mech.

By the time he was done, Major Farris had found her second. Jakub emerged to see the pair of them talking quietly. He straightened up as he approached and shot Kaitlyn a salute.

“Major.”

“aga’ush,” she replied, returning the salute. She turned back to Iulia and said “We should be going.”

Jakub and Iulia both nodded their own responses. Jakub added “Of course. Pleasure to meet you.” He turned to Iulia and said, in a far less formal manner, “And…thanks.”

Kaitlyn watched the young man retreat before turning back to her friend. “What have you been up to?” She asked, her tone more curious than accusing.

“We were making a totem,” she stated, matter-of-factly.

Kaitlyn nodded her understanding. “That doesn’t seem quite like you.”

“No,” the witch pondered for a moment. “But I think giving is his magic.”

[Deadborder]

Guest chapter by KayEmm

From the personal journal of Lewis Guise

I don’t want to sound like I’m congratulating myself, but things have worked out pretty well for us so far. I’ve done a lot to dig us out of the hole that Russel put us in thanks to a little bit of creative planning and adapting to a changing situation.

We set ourselves up in southern Alwaid where there was nobody else operating. Our scouts were able to get a good lay of the land and what was going on, which helped me to plan our operations. A few attacks and some impressive shows of force later, and we had established ourselves as a power to be reckoned with. The towns around Svboda were bought under our protection, in exchange for which they paid us tribute. Simple. We’ve clashed a few times with bandits or other small time groups, but all they have is Industrial MODs or light tanks. Hell, I managed to convince a few to join us to pad out our ranks; I guess they just know good leadership when they see it.

I’d developed a contingency plan against if Mandrogov ever got wind of what we were doing and decided to come after us. It was simple; we load up the dropships and leave. He doesn’t have any aerospace at all (that hag Sigonella’s intel was good for something after all) so it’s not like he can chase after us or the like. Then we just land somewhere else and start over. Simple. And if all else fails, we still have our pre-booked Jumpship coming.

Not that I think Mandragov is interested in coming after us right now. Greene’s been intercepting communications that make it clear that he’s got problems of his own to deal with, in the form of the same mercs that we fought earlier. I’m happy to leave them to it; just means more opportunities for us while everyone is fighting, and if they killed each other then I wouldn’t shed a single tear.

There is something that I am concerned about though. We haven’t had any contact with Olegi’s forces in a week. Normally we kept our distance and let each other be, with the mountains serving as a handy barrier. Now I’m wondering if something hasn’t happened to him. And while that would be good for us by removing a rival, it also could be a threat.

And I’m not ready to give up what I have quite yet.

[Deadborder]

The Byelestok War

While most histories of the Esteros civil war focus on Dimitri Mandragov, he was far from the only warlord involved in the factitious battles for Alwaid. Nor was every battle centred around him, either in his conquests or those efforts aimed at removing him from power. Ruhi Panja and Christoforo Salera were two of the ‘lesser’ warlords of Esteros who fought their own wars and had their own impact on the planet’s history. And while it is tempting to simply dismiss them as a sideshow to the main campaign, both still had their own impacts on the overall situation.

Before the Jade Falcon invasion, Ruhi Panja had been a middle manager overseeing mining operations. Her skill won her a place in the Clans’ resource extraction operations in a supervisor role, effectively conscripted into the Merchant Caste. Despite a decade of loyal and efficient service, she was left behind when the Clan abandoned the world. Fearing that she would become a target for recrimination due to her collaboration, she and a group of fellow administrators banded together for protection. Her combination of charisma and management skill allowed her to soon build a small army and carve out territory around the city of Luknow in northern Alwaid.

Conversely, Christoforo Salera had been a member of the Markov family’s noble guard. Having survived the invasion, he went to ground rather than risk capture and execution. While he claimed that he led a resistance movement during the occupation, no evidence has yet been found to verify this. Following the Clan’s departure from the world, he emerged and attempted to reclaim the Markov family holdings, despite the functional extinction of the line. By playing to nostalgia and old loyalties, he was able to recruit his own followers, and soon controlled territories centred on the city of Borgovia.

Both Panja and Salera’s armies were initially made up of infantry with some converted civilian vehicles and IndustrailMechs for support. However, both would soon receive ‘donations’ from the same source that had been arming Mandragov and the other warlords. Now equipped with combat vehicles and even a few BattleMechs, both became emboldened and began to expand their territories.
Their forces inevitably met outside of the town of Byelestok, with Panja claiming it by the simple expedient of reaching it first. Not content with letting this situation stand, and confident in his own augmented forces, Salera ordered an assault to seize the town. Panja’s forces were unprepared and, after a short battle, chose to abandon the town and withdraw back further into her territory. Emboldened, Salera drove his forces onwards, claiming several smaller towns while driving Panja further back.

Biding her time, Panja did her best to consolidate her own forces before launching a counter-offensive of her own. With Salera’s forces over-extended and spread out, she was able to push back most of his gains with relatively low losses. She then launched her own attack on Byelestok, taking the town despite determined resistance, effectively pushing back Salera’s forces to where they had been to start with. However, she was not content with this outcome. Having seized the initiative, she pushed further into Salera’s holdings.

As Salera was reorganising his forces and trying to plan what amounted to a counter-counter offensive, a new threat emerged. Mandragov chose to take advantage of the situation, and struck at his holdings, capturing the towns of Gurav and Malar. Not only did this move cost Salera a considerable portion of his already depleted forces, but it also opened his capitol at Borgovia to attack. Realising just how exposed he was, Salera negotiated a hasty cease-fire with Panja, one that essentially recognized all her successes and succeeded the captured territory, Beyelestok included, to her.

While doubtless tempted to finish off Salera, Panja no doubt recognised the full extent of the situation. She agreed to the ceasefire, essentially allowing her former enemy to survive as a buffer state between her holdings and Mandragov’s own advance. This move gave her time to consolidate her forces and her conquests, and prepare for what she saw as an inevitable invasion from the more powerful Warlord’s army. Ironically, by essentially using Salera as a shield, she instead ensured his survival.

-   From Esteros Burning, Galatea Free Press

[Deadborder]

Guest chapter by KayEmm and Zogster

Reapers and Demons

DropShip Inferno
Outside Sbvoda, Alwaid
Esteros

One of the many things that annoyed Lewis Guise was the two DropShips that he had at his disposal. The Terror carried their BattleMechs and, as such, was the ship he normally travelled in and operated from. However, as a Trojan-class blockade runner it lacked the sophisticated command facilities of their troop carrier, the Triumph-class Inferno. So while his BattleMech was being serviced on one ship, he had to hold conference on-board the other.

Right now he was in the Inferno’s command centre, itself a feature that only added to his dislike of the ship. Like everything else on the Inferno, it was worn and battered, with the systems running on patches, bypasses and jury-rigging that had lasted well past the point where they should have been replaced. With him were his senior officers, several of which had reached that position by simply surviving the Fulda debacle. “So what did you find?” he asked, his tone wary.

“Olegi’s been removed from the picture,” Lieutenant Greene replied. Lanky to the point of gaunt, the right side of his face was dominated by blotchy, discolored patches of skin and missing hair, the result of a long-ago coolant accident. He’d hastily thrown a jumpsuit on over his MechWarrior shorts before arriving. “With another force taking his place and looting his holdings.”

He pressed several buttons on the holotable. After a moment, images resolved themselves, depicting BattleMechs and armored vehicles in among a coastal city. “I counted a company of ’Mechs, at least two of which were assaults, along with supporting vehicles.” The display cycled between different images of the unknown force.

“Your thoughts?” Guise asked.

“I don’t think these are the same mercenaries we fought in Fulda,” Marko responded. Tall and heavyset, prominent scars decorated his shaved head. Between those lost at Fulda through death, capture or Dispossession, he had effectively become Guise’s second in command. “The composition is different. I do not see the Warhammer or Marauder, for example.”

“Exactly my thoughts,” Guise nodded. “Besides, aren’t they engaged with Mandragov’s forces on the other side of the continent?”

“They could have relocated,” Greene noted. “But it seems unlikely.”

“You’re right there,” Guise nodded. “Could be pirates.”

“If so, they are taking their time with the situation rather than just leaving,” Marko offered. “I think that they are mercenaries, here as a part of a contract. What we are seeing is their consolidating their landing position before continuing their advance.”

“Hm, that does make sense,” Guise nodded as he looked over the map of the continent. What had been Olegi’s territories were presently highlighted, with the Demons’ position being just outside of that area. “Do you think they are aware of us?”

“I don’t think so, sir,” Greene replied. “While I think they were in the process of consolidating, I don’t think they’re planning to move against us. Rather, I’d imagine that their objectives are the mines at Skpo or something else in that region.”

“Which will bring them into conflict with Mandragov,” Guise noted, rubbing his chin in consideration.

“That would be the most likely outcome, yes,” Greene nodded.

“So do you know what I see here?” Guise asked before answering his own question. “An opportunity.”

“How so?” Marko narrowed his thick brows.

Guise circled around the map. “Despite the problems that Mandragov’s having in the west, these newcomers are still going to be outnumbered," he noted. "And they’re going to be advancing into unfamiliar territory.” He looked up and grinned. “So we offer our aid to them. Give them a boost to their forces and local expertise, in exchange for a cut of what they’re getting.”

There was a pause before Marko finally spoke. “An interesting idea. Do you think they will go for it?”

“They’d have to,” Guise nodded. “They’d be fools not to.”

“I agree entirely,” Greene added.

“So here’s the plan,” Guise had announced to his command staff. “We mount up and approach this unknown force to introduce ourselves.”

There had been an awkward silence from his officers before Marko had finally spoken. “Do you not think that is a risk?” He asked. “What if they are ready for us?”

“If they’re smart, they will be willing to listen to us and talk,” He explained. “Picking a fight with us is going to be a battle they don’t want or need, one that will cost them resources that they probably don’t want to spend. They also know that we have a common enemy, and that they’d get nothing from fighting us.” He smiled. “Besides which, Greene said they weren’t aware of us.”

Greene shuffled, realising that he was suddenly in the spotlight. “That’s correct,” he nodded. “Their forces are spread out around Chort, and they aren’t mustering for an attack. If they wanted to attack us, well, then we would see it.”

Guise nodded, glad that he’d shifted the attention to Greene and off of himself. His recon lance commander had done a good job of both defusing the tension and reinforcing Guise’s own position. “I suppose so,” Marko grumbled.

“We have the advantages here,” Guise continued. “We can play our local knowledge and make ourselves invaluable to them. And they’re going to have to play along.” He smiled. “Play our cards right and we could win over a few of them to us, especially if they’ve got an unpopular commander or are stuck in a dud contract.”

He smiled to himself. We have this.

—

Even from the crest of the hill through her binoculars, Violetta could only make out the blurry top of the distant DropShip. The Trojan’s tip poked out from between the far-off ridges, hiding as best as three thousand tons of ship could. Clicking her tongue in frustration, she lowered her binoculars and turned from the vantage point, starting down the hill.

The situation seemed to keep getting worse. First Demos had broadened the scope of their contract, then they had all but blundered across another unit in their way. While Chort had been good to them, pickings were otherwise slim on this backwater continent of a backwater world. And now it seemed like another needless battle was ahead of them.

She picked her way through the lavender scrub back to the road where her unit’s mobile HQ was parked. Maeve stood by the vehicle’s rear entrance, fanning herself. Her company commander was unusually quiet, and Violetta thought she saw a furrow of concern under Maeve’s head wrap. Violetta caught her gaze and held it for a moment. For now at least, they shared their worries.

“Yasir just returned,” Maeve said simply. She gestured to the quad ATV stopped by the front of the MHQ. “He’s inside with Jackson.”

“Much as I hate to break up such good friends,” Violetta started. She smirked as she saw Maeve roll her eyes at her commander. That was more like it. “But we should probably find out what we’re dealing with.”

“After you,” Maeve said, gesturing towards the door with a sweeping bow. Violetta strode up the ramp past her, and opened the hatch for the pair of them to enter. Jackson straightened up as Violetta stepped inside, towering over the young man seated beside him. For his part, Yasir didn’t so much as stand. Violetta couldn’t help but smile at his disrespect.

With an exaggerated gasp of relief, Maeve unwrapped her headdress and ran her hands through her short hair. Violetta followed suit, taking her time to remove the stuffy garment. Another thing she was growing to dislike about this planet.

She spared a glance to Demos, lounging in the background of the MHQ’s command center, feigning disinterest. He’d taken to sitting in on briefings, just to keep himself in the loop. So far, Violetta didn’t mind, as long as he didn’t make himself an obstruction. Instead she turned to the young man who’d once stowed away on the Torquemada. He’d proven himself an adaptable scout, especially since Violetta hadn’t given him much choice in the matter.

“So what have we got?” She asked.

Yasir finally stood and saluted. “As per initial reports, the encampment centers around two DropShips, a Triumph and a Trojan. Units had disembarked. We counted two lances of BattleMechs and two lances of combat vehicles.”

“Disembarked?” Maeve asked.

“They know we’re nearby,” Yasir responded.

“Mandragov doesn’t have DropShips,” Demos said from his back corner. When Violetta shot him a glance, he raised his hands defensively. “Just an observation.”

“He’s right,” Jackson added, to which their commander nodded.

“So who are they?” Maeve asked of Yasir.

The young man looked around nervously. “We… can’t confirm. But we did spot a consistent insignia on their units, a roaring demon.”

“Sounds like more mercenaries. Since Esteros doesn’t have enough of them yet,” Maeve observed dryly.

“Question is, what are they doing here?” Violetta asked of nobody in particular.

“Not a lot,” came Maeve’s response. “We first observed them raiding nearby towns for supplies. Not the kind of thing you bring an armed force to a former Jade Falcon world for.”

“So something’s definitely gone wrong there,” Violetta said. She pondered for a moment, then asked Yasir, “Were you spotted?”

“No, ma’am. It looks like they were preparing equipment but not marshaling for battle.”

“Taking a defensive posture?” Maeve suggested. “Probably expect us to attack them.”

Violetta shook her head. “With their transport assets, they could be long gone before we get there. And even if they wanted a fight, they wouldn’t risk their DropShips. No, this is a fight they don’t need. And even if we outnumber them, it’s a fight we don’t need either.”

“Doesn’t have to be one,” Demos butted in once more. This time all eyes turned to the portly man. He ambled up to the meeting table to join the others. “See, no part of this report says to me ‘we love Mandragov.’ And of course, being the enemy of our enemy…”

“He’s got a point,” Maeve said before Violetta could even respond. “The situation’s a lot bigger than we thought, and we could use the help. Even you’ve got to admit that,” she finished with a smirk.

Violetta took a moment to fix Maeve with a blistering glare, but even that didn’t wipe the smile from her company commander’s face. Instead she addressed the table as a whole. “Alright. It sounds like they’ll be open to discussion. At best, we get new allies with a better feel for the situation, and at worst we get a good idea of just who we’re dealing with. Nice work, kid.”

Violetta reached over and ruffled Yasir’s hair. The young scout immediately lashed out, knocking her hand away. The whole room froze in a tableau, with the two staring each other down. It took Yasir a moment to realise Jackson was ready to pounce. He forced himself to back down, watching the room relax around him.

Violetta addressed the room, keeping her eyes fixed on Yasir. “Alright. If they want to talk, we can talk. Get the troops together. Let’s show them we’re one big happy family.”

-----

[Deadborder]

Major Lewis Guise had quickly mustered the Screaming Demons and put them on the march towards Chort. He’d mobilized their entire force, save for a small security detachment of infantry and a couple of ‘requisitioned’ IndustrialMechs that were still guarding the DropShips. And, should things turn bad, his aerospace fighters were on standby as well, ready to go as soon as he needed them.

Sitting in the cockpit of his Archer, Guise couldn’t help but feel pleased with himself over his plan. The whole Esteros contract had been a disaster from the start, with the late, unlamented Major Russel having gotten them in way over their heads. He’d done a great job of turning it all around, taking advantage of the situation to turn to piracy to line their own coffers.

And it’s not like our reputation could get any worse, he considered. Russel tried to turn us around and get us back on the straight and narrow. His plan didn’t work, but mine has. He smiled to himself. Things are falling nicely into place, all thanks to me.

The unit advanced across the hills in a deliberately arranged formation. After the losses they’d suffered at Fulda, he’d reorganized the Screaming Demons, rationalizing their remaining forces. Now, Greene’s reconstituted recon lance had the lead, scouting the path ahead of their forces. Their surviving vehicle forces were arrayed on the flanks, protecting the middle of the formation. That center was Guise’s command lance, with his Archer at the back, as much for protection as to take advantage of its fire support capabilities. That Marko’s Koschei was in front of him and would likely draw the most fire was just a bonus.

“This is Recon Lead,” Greene called out. “We have contact.”

“Likely a picket or scout,” Guise replied. “Keep watch for-“

“More contacts!” Greene cut him off. “Registering multiple BattleMechs and vehicles ahead.”

Guise glanced down at his display, watching as a string of red icons popped into existence ahead of him. Wait, were they ready for us? As more reports came in, he could see their formation take shape. They were! They knew they were coming. “All units, hold!” He commanded, doing his best to remain calm as he toggled to a command channel. “Hellbat Lance, standby.”

“Your orders?” Marko asked, his tone leaden with suppressed anger.

“I’ve got this,” he replied, before switching to an open frequency. “My name is Major Lewis Guise, commander of the Screaming Demons,” he began, doing a good job of selling his confidence. “We have a common enemy in Warlord Mandragov and his army. My men have been engaged with his forces for the last month, so we know his capabilities, his strengths and his holdings.” Which was not entirely true, but it was a strong selling point.

“We both want the same thing. There’s no reason for us to fight, but we can help each other.” He finished. And there’s the hook. Time to reel them in.

—

Matters had progressed swiftly from there. The Reapers’ MHQ had been dispatched and was now parked between the two lines of BattleMechs. The pilots of the Gunslinger and Longbow had disembarked to meet Lewis and his command staff in the rear of the vehicle. The fierce-looking woman and her towering second were joined by a portly man, waiting for them in the briefing room.

“Good to finally meet you,” Violetta began after putting down her neurohelmet. “We became aware of your activities in the last couple of days.”

“Major Lewis Guise,” he introduced himself, his tone clear and confident. “My aides, Captain Gregor Marko and Lieutenant Ben Greene.”

“Major Violetta Vujic,” his counterpart replied curtly. “My aide, Jackson and our employer, Demos.” While Jackson gave no response, Demos beamed broadly at the trio.

“Representing the Malthus Confederation,” he said with a bow. “The Red Reapers were contracted to secure our assets on Esteros.”

Violetta nodded. “While Chort fell easily, the situation turned out to be more complicated than we first anticipated.”

“Most of the continent is controlled by Dimitri Mandragov,” Lewis explained. “He’s a warlord who emerged after the Falcons abandoned the world, having previously been a resistance leader.” Much of this information had been provided by Baroness Sigonella while they had been working for her, a part of her overall briefing about the world and its situation. He’d presumed that after she won the civil war, she’d have sent the Screaming Demons after Mandragov. Even after they’d deserted her, she was still getting her way. Damn that bitch, he considered before he continued.

“The heart of Mandragov’s power is here in the middle of the continent,” Guise continued. “He has at least a regiment of tanks, and maybe a battalion of BattleMechs. Nobody knows where they’re coming from. He’s effectively got a complete stranglehold over the center of the continent, with there being no other force that’s big enough to stand up to him.” He indicated over the map, pointing out a single dot near the middle of it. “His capitol is here in Tirana, so it’s not like he’s exposed or anything.”

Guise paused a moment before continuing. “While there are some other warlords active around the fringes, most of them are just staying out of his way and occupying their own territories rather than seeking fights with him.”

“Then I anticipate they’ll be little trouble overall,” Violetta added. “No, Mandragov is the main objective. Not only does he control our objectives, but the power he represents is an ongoing threat to operations here.” She glanced at Demos who nodded, and a smirk crossed her face. “On the other hand, that gives us a clear and obvious objective.” Her smile broadened as she leaned over the table to Guise. “Crush him.”

“The good news is that he has had to spread out his forces,” Guise explained. “He has a lot of territory to cover with what he has. Furthermore, his western front has recently come under attack by a group of mercenaries hired by the Esteros government.” That much gave him pause. While it was probably not the most professional thing, the idea of getting a measure of revenge on that unit for the losses he had suffered was appealing. Maybe we can make that happen through this alliance, he considered.

“More mercenaries?” Violetta asked. She cocked an eyebrow and glanced at Demos once more.

Lewis couldn’t help but notice the subtle looks of concern that passed between his opposite numbers. Got them! he exclaimed to himself, being careful not to let his victory show. Once again, he’d turned Russel’s failure into his own success. The fool’s blundering had at least bought him intel that he could use to buy his way into the Reapers’ good graces.

She turned her attention back to Lewis. “This could work to our advantage. With this distraction on his western front, a further diversion could leave his central forces dangerously exposed. I think we could accomplish something along those lines… between us.” She let her last statement hanging, its potential obvious.

“Agreed,” Lewis replied with a curt nod. “We can talk unit strengths and compositions later.”

“This does sound promising.” Violetta glanced at the men on either side of her. “I’ll have to confer with my command staff, and I imagine you’ll want some time to do the same.” She gestured towards the door. “We shall reconvene shortly.”

—

After leaving the MHQ, Guise had led his men back to their own little encampment where their ’Mechs were waiting. It was only once he was there among their own that he spoke up. “I think we have them convinced of our usefulness,” he finally said.

“It does seem like this is working,” Marko noted.

“Oh yes,” Guise nodded, his tone becoming more confident. “Don’t get me wrong, Vujic’s pretty smart for a woman, but she needs us and she knows it.”

“Of course,” he replied, a hint of weariness in his voice.

“She probably inherited control of the unit,” he considered. “Didn’t actually have to work for the position, unlike me.”

“You’re probably right.” He paused. “What about their employer?”

“Demos?” Guise shrugged. “I think he’s pretty smart and that he could be useful to us. If he hired the Reapers, then he’s probably not going to get too picky about who else he hires. A guy like that could help me get us out of the hole Russel dug us into.”

“You think he’d hire us?” Greene asked.

“Absolutely,” he nodded. “We’ve picked ourselves up pretty well so far, but this Esteros thing can only last us so long. We have to plan for the future, and I think he’s going to be a great opportunity for us.” He smiled confidently. “You can tell that he’s not going to ask too many questions or be too picky. After all, he hired Vujic.”

“And Jackson?” Greene continued.

Lewis gave a dismissive shake of the head. “Obvious muscle there to intimidate us. Nothing we need to worry about.”

—

In the MHQ’s briefing room, Violetta looked up to one of the monitors mounted on the wall. “Maeve, what’s our status?”

The screen flickered to life, bringing up an image of her company commander in her BattleMech’s cockpit. “No change out here. They’re just staring us down, waiting for something to happen.”

“It won’t,” Jackson said curtly.

“No, they need this alliance,” Violetta mused. “Thoughts?”

“I like them,” Demos said. This drew a surprised look from Jackson of all people, to which Demos shrugged. “They reek of desperation, and desperate men are predictable. But they’re also going to be looking out for themselves first, which is worth remembering.”

“Honestly, I think Guise’s intel is worth more than he is,” Violetta mused. “But it’s more warm bodies to put between us and Mandragov, and right now we need that.”

“Are we really getting in bed with these people?” Maeve asked from her cockpit.

“No. But we’ll use them for as long as they have value.” Jackson nodded his agreement, while Maeve only frowned. At last she turned to Demos.

“Make the pitch.”

—

Guise’s discussion was interrupted by Demos approach to their makeshift camp. “Gentlemen,” he said as he approached. “Sorry for the brusque nature of affairs.” He reached into his satchel and proffered a selection of small bottles of spirits.

Guise took one of the bottles and smiled as he looked over it. “It’s understandable,” he replied. “And thank you.”

“Perks of the trade, as I’m sure you well understand.” His warm smile faded somewhat. “But to the unpleasant business of business.”

“I’ll be blunt. My current employees have found themselves unequal to the task at hand -- at least alone. Whether they want to admit it or not, they can’t stand up to Mandragov’s forces. At least, not without assistance.”

Lewis nodded as he listened. “I understand. Mandragov’s army is a lot bigger than anyone had expected. Fortunately, while we are also outnumbered, we know a lot about his forces, their deployments, capabilities and the like.” He spoke confidently, as if he was a clear authority on the matter. “So what did you have in mind then?”

“Given the scope of the situation, I can definitely stretch the budget to cover you and your men. Of course, payment will have to be deferred until we’re all off-planet, but that shouldn’t be too much of a problem.”

“Off-planet you say?” Lewis glanced at Marko and Greene. “I assume then that you have a JumpShip chartered or otherwise on standby?” His mind was racing with the possibilities, with Demos suddenly opening up a world of opportunities. A steady employer with transport and few scruples would be ideal.

“Chartered, with a scheduled pick-up,” Demos replied. “Of course that’s still a while away, as we had a timeline for the operation. That’s been a mite… skewed?” His face crinkled up as he pondered the particular verbage, before shrugging it off. “But I think between us, we can get things back on track.”

“I think it would be for the best if our two units worked together, but were still treated as equals,” he continued. “After all, Major Vujic and I hold the same rank.” He wasn’t going to mention that the Reapers outnumbered the Demons almost two to one, nor the fact that his rank was self-appointed following Russel’s death. “Naturally, we’d consider you an impartial arbiter in the advent of any disputes.”

Violetta’s not going to like that one, Demos thought behind his plastered-on smile. “Naturally, and I feel that’s more than fair. You’ll find I’m a nicely hands-off employer. Honestly, I wouldn’t know a cooling vest from a command couch. I’ll leave the details of the operations to my two commanders.

“So,” Demos said, spreading his arms and smiling broadly. “Do we have a deal?”

“We do indeed,” Guise replied with a confident smile.

[Deadborder]

Conquest within walking distance

While the Esteros Warlords fielded considerable armies of BattleMechs and combat vehicles, all apparently provided from an unknown source, there was more to their forces than just that. The bulk of the warlords’ armies were made up of infantry, usually conscripts from their conquered territories. And, like so many other small armies that sprang up after the Blackout, they made use of modified IndustrailMechs to supplement their forces. However, what few sources have touched upon is those elements that were absent from their militaries.

The most obvious capability gaps are their aerospace forces, with their armies having not been supplied with either Aerospace fighters or even conventional craft. Even VTOLs were comparatively rare among their forces. While it is possible that their suppliers did not have access to such craft, that seems unlikely given the breadth of sources they pulled from. For example, they were able to supply BattleMechs sourced form Bowie Industries on Carlisle, but not aerospace craft from the same factory.

The lack of aerospace forces meant that the warlords lacked the ability to project their power. It meant that they were limited in their reach to whatever objectives could be reached through purely ground-based travel, although that also did not preclude them from using ocean-going vessels. That no warlord tried to extend their reach beyond Alwaid is more due to the fact that they were still fighting each other than any lack of motivation; given all that we know about Dimitri Mandragov, it is entirely reasonable to assume that he wanted to conquer the entirety of Esteros.

Furthermore, there were other assets that would have been useful in allowing Mandragov and the other warlords to extend their reach that they simply did not have. Their forces lacked any sort of support vehicles that would have been useful in supporting mobile campaigns; no dedicated ordinance transports, no field repair vehicles, no MASH units and so on. Instead, they were entirely dependent on whatever assets they could requestion and repurpose.

While transporting ammunition and supplies using civilian vehicles was an adequate solution, supporting BattleMech forces without dedicated repair bays or the like proved to be an entirely more complicated problem. Where possible, the warlords used existing IndustrialMech workshops for their repair facilities, but these were, by their nature, still limited in what they could do. In the field, they had to make do with whatever they could improvise, which led to a wide range of creative solutions.

Civilian construction and service vehicles were often pressed into service for these roles to varying degrees of effectiveness. Cranes to lift components, cherry-pickers as makeshift repair platforms and so on. One infamous image of the conflict depicts a pair of tractors being used to lift a Starslayer’s arm into position using winches and cables strung over pulleys suspended from a gantry at a mine. These shortcomings were only further exacerbated by the lack of experienced technical crews among the Warlords’ forces, which slowed turnaround times and led to extended periods of inactivity to repair and refit forces.

The question is, why did these gaps exist? One popular theory is that the warlords’ mysterious backers were seeking to hobble their capabilities in order to prevent them from expanding their reach too far. They kept the warlords fighting among themselves, but stopped any one power from being able to claim complete dominance over the others by hobbling their capabilities. Of course, what purpose this served is another matter.

   - From Esteros Burning, Galatea Free Press

[Deadborder]

Guest chapter by Zogster and KayEmm

Knight Star

DropShip Ur
Outside Abbeville,
Alwaid, Esteros
 
As she stepped into the room, Kaitlyn Farris couldn’t help but feel an odd mix of apprehension and excitement at the situation before her. Present were the leaders of the Star of Sumer, a mercenary unit that she had allied herself with through the combination of happenstance and shared objectives. This was her first time as the commander of the Iron Knights that she was working alongside another mercenary command, her peers. While she was eager to see how this would unfold, she also couldn’t help but feel a little nervous, concerned that her relative inexperience and outsider status would work against her.

It didn’t help that there was a marked contrast between her people and those that she was meeting. The Star’s leadership were in crisp, white uniforms that had been purpose made for the role. On the other side, herself, Iulia and Leon were all wearing mismatching, rugged fatigues that had all seen a lot of wear already.

Alongside Lana and Katarina was a solidly built man with a neatly trimmed dark beard. He stepped forward and extended a hand to Kaitlyn.

“Isaías Molina, nu Banda Comet Company,” he said. “Never got the chance to properly thank you for pulling our fat out of the fire.”

Kailtyn nodded in reply. “Glad to help,” she simply replied. “Major Kaitlyn Farris, and my aides, Captain Iulia Dragan and Lieutenant Leon Mackinaw.” She had considered bringing Captain Buster Snegwort to the meeting, an idea that came back to her with the introduction to Molina. On the other hand, she wondered if he would actually contribute anything to the discussion.

Lana stepped forward to address everyone present. “We have a new target. The Iron Knights’ reconnaissance units have been invaluable in locating the enemy’s forces. We believe we have a chance to deal them a decisive blow.”

Lana ceded the floor to Kaitlyn, returning to Isaías and Katarina’s sides. At the same time, Katarina shot Kaitlyn an encouraging wink.

“Our scout has located an enemy force, identified as belonging to Warlord Mandrogov,” she explained. Once again, Iulia’s agent, Anton Yamashita, had done excellent work in locating the enemy and getting the lay of them, escaping without even tipping them off to his presence. She tapped a button on the console, bringing up a holographic map of the area. As she worked the controls, it again was clear just how better maintained and equipped the Star’s DropShip was, which had been the chief reason they had chosen it for this briefing.

Now you’re getting self-conscious about everything, she told herself. Focus.

“They have taken up station outside a mine complex,” she explained. “Based on what he reported, this seems to be the remnants of the forces we faced at Baret and Abbeville. By his estimate, there’s less than a company of BattleMechs, and no more than two companies of tanks. But they also have a not inconsiderable infantry force, as well as a number of modified IndustrialMechs to support them.”

“However, there is another factor that is working in our favor,” she noted. “From all that we’ve seen and learned, Mandragov lacks any sort of mobile field base or other such vehicles, which is going to make it hard to service his ’Mechs in the field. While it’s likely that they chose the mine as much for its value as they could for using its facility to affect repairs, they are still going to be limited in what they are able to do. According to the report, a lot of the ’Mechs were still damaged.”

“Taking out this force will do a lot for us beyond simply reducing the enemy’s numbers,” she explained. “By eliminating them, we’re opening the way to Mandragov’s heartland.” Kait zoomed out the map, adding indicators that pointed out both their location, as well as the location of the city of Tirana. “While there still is a lot of distance to cover, we’re going to leave his western front virtually defenseless. From what we know, most of what he has left in the region is local infantry and paramilitary forces, which pose little risk to us”

Several more points lit up, indicating towns under Mandragov’s control.
“It’s also going to cut off Mandragov’s authority in these parts,” Isaías observed. “You said you’d already eliminated their force commanders, so control over the region is probably tenuous at best.” He turned to ask Kaitlyn directly, “I assume your employers will be moving in peacekeeping forces or the like in your wake?”

“They are, yes,” Kaitlyn confirmed. “The Esteros Assembly is ferrying forces in to garrison those areas we’ve liberated.” Of course, they were limited by the Assembly’s lack of transport assets, and she knew that they’d have a lot to deal with. She didn’t envy those forces for what they’d need to deal with in the slightest, but she also understood that it was better than the alternative.

Lana leaned over the map of the mine. “It seems inelegant, but we can probably crush them with brute force. We outnumber and outweigh them, plus our forces are in better condition. I imagine their morale is pretty shot as well.” She leaned down over the map, indicating to the flat terrain spread out around the mine itself. “We’ve got a clear approach on three sides. If we can quickly blow through their initial defenders, hopefully the rest will break and abandon their posts.”

“That’s a fair assessment,” Leon agreed. “We have the advantage of numbers and sheer weight. I’ll agree with your assessment of their morale as well; they’ve lost two battles and two leaders-“ Kait could swear that Iulia smiled ever so slightly at that last point. “-and have nothing to show for it. At a guess, I’d say the only reason they haven’t run further is that they’re as afraid of their own leaders as they are of us.”

Everything that she’d learned about Dimitri Mandragov so far seemed to support that last point. “Mandragov still has forces in the east of the continent,” she added as she zoomed out the map. “However, it’s going to take them time to redeploy to face us, given his lack of transport assets. If we move fast, we can close in on his heartlands before they can make it to the front.”

Isaías scratched his chin as he examined the map. “I imagine that Mandragov will know the status of his forces by now. I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s already written off this region. I doubt he thinks the remnants here can hold against our combined units.”

“You think he knows we’ve joined forces?” Katarina asked.

Isaías gave a nonchalant shrug. “It’s pretty much the worst-case scenario for him, so I imagine he’d be planning for it. Probably moving to consolidate forces around his capital.”

“Which will still take him time,” Lana put forward. “If we can put this to bed quickly, then we’ve got a chance to beat him to the punch. Our forces have mobility he lacks.” A smile pulled at the corners of her mouth as she looked around her, taking in the assembled pilots.

“We have them outnumbered and outgunned. They’ll break quickly. We present a wall and move in to crush them.” She straightened up, favoring the room with an eager smile. “We’ve got this one.”

-----

Like everything else the Iron Knights owned, the field canopy as well as the furniture set up under it was battered and patched, but it still did what they needed it to. At present, it was occupied by a pair of figures; Iulia Dragan, her fatigues and headscarf all but covering her pale skin and a man who’s features were almost completely hidden by his rugged clothes and wrap, leaving only his eyes visible. The pair of them exchanged a few words, the man nodding before turning to leave.

Jakub Day waited a moment before stepping forward. Out in the glaring sun, he’d accessorised his white uniform with an off-grey headscarf. As was local fashion he’d customised it somewhat, in this case with a number of different badges. “Sorry,” he said as he aproached Iulia. “I didn’t want to interrupt.”

“That was Anton Yamashita, our scout,” she explained. “He is Oamani de Deal, from my homeworld. They live off of the land in the hills.” She smiled a little. “His life has taught him to be rugged and resourceful.”

Jakub watched him leave for a moment. “He certainly looks capable,” he said, turning to Iulia. “Is he also, um… a practitioner?” he asked, cautiously.

“No. I am the only one to use magic in the Iron Knights,” she replied, her pride evident in the statement.

Iulia had spread out a number of pictures on the table, laid over a map of the region. Some of them looked to have been taken through a camera, while others were screenshots from BattleROMs. As Jakub watched, she began to re-arrange them to some pattern known only to her. He tried to make out details from the pictures, recognising some of the units from their briefing, and others from the prior battle. Precisely what Iulia was looking for eluded him.

“Hm,” she gave another thoughtful look over the pictures, before rearranging them again, putting one at the centre of the others. “This Patton tank.” Her accent rendered it more as Pattern, but the intent was clear from the photo she was looking at. “It was present at both Baret and Abbeville. Yes, there were others at both, but this one stood out.”

Jakub nodded slowly. “It is a distinctive model, but there’s more to it than that.” He looked up at Iulia and asked “Isn’t there?”

“Patterns,” she explained. “At Baret, when I killed the leader of the enemy forces, this tank remained in the middle of their force. It held its ground for as long as it could, as if its commander was trying to anchor the rest of the force to it.” She nodded in recollection. “I fought it there and it managed to escape from me.”

“Then it was there again at Abbeville,” she considered. “The same pattern unfolded; I killed their leader, but this tank remained in the middle of all things, as if it was the pivot around which their forces moved. They did not retreat until it retreated.”

“Third time’s the charm,” Jakub said offhandedly. He blinked under Iulia’s curious gaze. “Sorry, just… You know, things happen in threes and all that.
Iulia smiled a little at the comment. “I think that whoever is commanding that tank is a powerful person,” she assessed. “If they are not the leader of the remnant forces, then they are able to exert control over them. Maybe they think they should be in command, but the soldiers around them follow them no less.”

“Someone who can rise to the occasion,” Jakub said. He seemed to ponder the picture of the tank for a moment. “Working under Isaías has taught me that tank commanders are often overlooked. Maybe he’s been the real threat all along.”
“A good point, yes,” she considered as she slowly walked around the table, eyes on the pictures. “Maybe he is feeling the same. Their last two commanders, they were in BattleMechs. And yet, it was this tank and the man inside it that was most important to them.” She smiled.

Jakub frowned for a moment. “Weirdly enough, the losses they’ve had will have solidified his position. He’ll be the clear leader now.”

“Then we need to eliminate it and its crew,” she finished. “If he does not escape, then his force will crumble without his will to hold it together.”

Jakub nodded. “I know Lana’s plan was to crush them, but if we target the tank we can hopefully get them to surrender without too many casualties.”

“Now we have figured out what we want, we need to make it happen,” Iulia explained. “In my... tradition, I make an offering to a spirit, who in turn helps me. It directs me to my target and guides my hand and eye.” She nodded. “Would you like to aid me with this?”

Jakub nodded. “If I can. I don’t want to get in the way, but…” He chewed his lip for a moment, trying to find the right words. “I’d like to learn more.”

“Well then, let us begin.” Iulia opened up a noteputer and tapped on the keys a few times. “Season... phases of the moons... hm, yes.” She nodded towards Jakub. “See that tool box over there, the old red one? Can you bring it to me?” As he did, she cleared off the table, while setting up a plain, worn old ceramic bowl on it.

Jakub handed her the box, with Iulia opening it up. Inside were several spice jars on a rack, as well as collections of dried leaves in small bags. “Are some of these from here?” He asked. “The purple color and all.”

“Yes,” she nodded. “And other worlds as well.” She took out several leaves, checking each one of them before adding them into the bowl. “We chose the proper elements, ones that tie to both us and that which we seek.” She paused. “What world do you come from?”

“Um…” Jakub seemed to ponder his answer for a moment. “Galatea, sort of?” He met another one of Iulia’s inquisitive looks. “We were returning to Galatea after a contract and dad said I couldn’t wait. So… I was actually born on the Ur. I guess that doesn’t really help.”

“DropShip. Interesting” she pulled out a spice jar. “We will add something until you can find a better connection. But because you helped me with this, no matter what, there will be some of you in it.” That last comment was made with a smile as she added in several different leaves. “Pick something that you think fits you,” she added as she turned the box to him.

After he had done so, she continued to work. At each point, she ensured that Jakub could clearly see what she was doing. “Then we add just a dash of this...” she poured a small amount of liquid over the collection of herbs and dried leaves. “And now we go outside.” She stepped out into the sun, kneeling and placing the bowl on the ground, gesturing to Jakub to join her.

Taking a breath, she kneeled, leaving a place for Jakub next to her. Iulia whispered a few words in a language he didn’t understand before taking a match, striking it, and dropping it in the bowl. The contents quickly ignited, giving off a thick, pungent odor that she breathed in deeply. Jakub followed suit, closing his eyes and inhaling the vapour while trying not to choke or gag on the strong aroma.

The pair sat in silence for a moment, breathing deeply of the concoction. A variety of thoughts swirled through Jakub’s head, battling for his attention. Of all the things he’d expected on this contract, the last was to meet such a unique person, with a worldview he’d never imagined before. And while magic was not something he would have considered before coming here, he didn’t find the thought of it as strange as he would have expected.

Images came to him of the people he fought alongside. Members of the Star of Sumer, and now of the Iron Knights. Another impression emerged, of Angela King. She must have graduated by now, he realised, and a smile crossed his face thinking of how happy she must be. Finally an image came of his father, a heavyset, bearded man. Jakub was following in the old man’s footsteps, but knew that he was making his own path, and doing it his own way.

At length, the feelings faded, leaving him satisfied and confident. His eyes fluttered open, and he glanced aside to Iulia, reading her reaction.
Iulia took a deep breath. “Yes, it is all clear to me now,” she commented, looking off into the distance at nothing in particular. She turned to Jakub and smiled warmly. “Thank you for helping me with this.”

“No, I…thanks. That was really something special.” He pulled himself slowly to his feet. “I feel calmer, I guess. Like, you know that feeling when you’re going into battle and you don’t know if you’ve done enough to prepare and you feel like there’s a thousand more things you could do?”

“No,” Iulia replied simply.

Jakub smiled. “No. I guess not.” He paused a moment to brush off his uniform pants. “I need to get ready, but…thank you for sharing this with me.”

------

[Deadborder]

Standing in the shade of their DropShip, Kaitlyn Farris and Leon Mackinaw had casually watched the whole process unfold. “Is she teaching the kid magic?” Leon finally asked.

“I guess so,” Kait replied, her tone not entirely certain.

“Huh,” he considered. “Wonder why she never offered to teach any of us?”

“Maybe if you stopped quipping at her every time she bought it up you might find out,” Kait replied with a chuckle.

-----

Lana emerged from the locker room, fastening the last of her MechWarrior jumpsuit. As they had done countless times, Katarina quickly fell in step with her. The two women glanced at each other, their look sharing more than their accumulated experience fighting side by side.

“Ready?” Lana asked off-hand.

“More than,” Katarina said. “I’ve seen the Iron Knights in the field. They’re good at what they do.”

Lana nodded her understanding. The two stepped into an open lift, which quickly chugged its way up Ur's catwalks. “You and Kaitlyn seem to be getting along well,” Lana added after a moment.

Katarina frowned, as she was want to do. “I worry about her, honestly. She’s a good leader and a good MechWarrior, just…I don’t know if her heart’s in it.”

“It wouldn’t be you if you didn’t worry,” Lana shot back with an easy smile.
Katarina couldn’t help but ease off on the frown, her commander’s confidence catching up with her. “Speaking of-”

Lana raised a hand to gently stop her. “I know what you’re going to say, but I’m fine. We both know I’ve been through worse in this job.”

“Not helping,” Katarina replied.

However Lana was planning to respond, it had to wait. Jakub jogged up to the pair of them, clearly in a hurry. “Ugala, nu Banda,” he said, cutting a crisp salute.

“aga’ush,” Lana replied, as the pair saluted in kind. Whatever had brought Jakub here had to be serious if he was relying on such formality.

“Captain Dragan believes she has identified the enemy commander,” he reported. “Piloting a Patton tank.”

Katarina nodded her agreement. “I recall there was one at our previous engagement. Good work, aga’ush.”

“Thank you, ma’am,” Jakub replied. He gave another salute and quickly departed, headed for his Shadow Hawk.

“See?” Lana said with an easy smile. “Another step in our favour.” She gave Katarina a gentle pat on the shoulder. “It’s all going to turn out fine.”

-----

As she settled into her BattleMech’s command couch, Lana couldn’t help but feel confident. Between the Star of Sumer and the Iron Knights, they outnumbered and outgunned Mandragov’s forces. Even if they were depleted, they still held highly defensible ground. But more than anything else, she had a good feeling about her newfound allies.

Added to that, her cast was off. Her leg was still a little tender, but with Cecilia’s reluctant approval she was back in the cockpit. She never felt right asking her people to risk their lives without being in the field with them. That and it would be a poor showing if she wasn’t fighting alongside the Iron Knights’ commander.

Working through her pre-launch check, she noticed a new addition to the cockpit. Hanging from a corner in the left-hand side was a crude figurine, apparently made from bundled sticks and reeds. She paused for a moment to examine it. The smooth stone on the figure’s head reminded her of something, but she couldn’t place it for the moment. She gave it an idle tap and watched it swing back and forth for a few seconds. “Where did you come from?” She muttered to herself.

The radio crackled to life as other members of the Star began to check in. Lana turned her attention back where it was needed, the curious charm momentarily forgotten.

-----

The mine was at least half a day from where the Star and Iron Knights had put their DropShips down. A sub-orbital hop for such a short distance was impractical, not to mention a waste of fuel. Instead, the two units had simply marched overland towards their objective. From the cockpit of her Warhammer IIC, Kaitlyn had to admit that the two units on the move were an impressive sight, a larger force than any she had ever been a part of before.

And a good way to show just how backwater I am, she noted.

Despite the short amount of time they’d had to prepare, the Star of Sumer and Iron Knights had come together well. Their formation was relatively simple and straightforward, with their heaviest elements in the center and more mobile ones on the flanks. Recon elements such as hovercraft and VTOLs, as well as more unconventional ones such as Iulia’s scout, were moving ahead of their force, both checking the path and searching for any signs of the enemy; so far, they were yet to encounter any resistance.

For whatever reason, her ’Mech had ended up marching next to Katarina Morrison’s own Warhammer, making for a striking comparison. Iulia’s Marauder was on her side, its red scheme in stark contrast to the practical camouflage the other ’Mechs were wearing. On the other side, Lana Kotovski’s BattleMaster towered over all around it, a commanding presence on the field.

The Star really know what they’re doing, she considered. So far, she’d been impressed with just how tight and professional their allies had been.

“Knight Two here,” Iulia’s voice crackled over the communicator, interrupting her thoughts. “Things are just as Yamashita reported,”

“Understood,” Kaitlyn replied before switching channels. “Tripwire Team, you are go.”

Yamashita’s report had indicated that there were dug-in infantry forces ahead of the mine, a simple way to slow an incoming force and potentially bog them down. While only an inconvenience to most BattleMechs, such preparations could seriously hamper heavy tanks, such as those that the Star employed. Between them, the leaders of the Iron Knights and the Star of Sumer had worked out their own counter, one that would draw on both units and their capabilities.

On Kaitlyn’s orders, hovercraft and VTOLs from both the Knights and the Star were racing ahead of their formation, disgorging loads of battle-armored infantry upon those defenses before breaking off. Those forces would create holes through which their two units could advance unimpeded before linking up with them for the main assault. All the while, the main bodies of the two forces advanced, closing in on the enemy line.

After maybe a minute, Khasyanov’s voice crackled over the communicator. “We have an opening, grid Echo-Three.”

“Roger that,” she replied. “All units, advance. Push through Echo-Three and then let them have it.”

Kaitlyn opened up her throttle, the Warhammer IIC pushing forwards towards the enemy lines. Around her, other BattleMechs responded in kind. Leon’s Phoenix Hawk surged ahead, leading his recon lance, while other more mobile Star BattleMechs followed suit. Already she was getting sensor pings from the enemy force, with red icons winking to life on her tactical display.
She opened fire on the first available target, her PPCs unleashing twin bolts of artificial lighting on a squat Bulldog tank. One of them struck home, smashing armor off its front end, while the other went wide. Lacking the reach to reply and likely aware that they were outmatched, the Bulldog tank backed off, ducking behind a shed.

In its place, a battered Roughneck and one-armed Cobra stepped forwards, both opening fire. A scattering of autocannon shells and long-range missiles peppered her Warhammer’s hull, but did little more than worry its thick armor. Around them, a motley collection of ’Mechs and tanks were beginning to form up, doing their best to reply to the oncoming force.

She dropped her targeting reticule onto the Roughneck and opened fire again, immediately feeling the heat from the PPC barrage. The results made it well worth the price, as the shots smashed into the blocky enemy BattleMech, flaying armor off its chest and side. As it staggered under the assault, another pair of PPC bolts smashed into it, one of them tearing apart its autocannon. Behind it, the Cobra’s MechWarrior was already backpedaling and reconsidering their options.

“Thanks for the assist,” she commented over the communicator.

“Least I can do,” Katarina replied. “But we’re not even yet.”

Kaitlyn nodded to herself as she continued to advance, bearing down on the damaged Roughneck. We have this, she told herself. Just need to keep it all together.

-----
Combined with the BattleMech’s height, the domed cockpit of the BattleMaster gave Lana a commanding view of the battlefield. Weapons fire was already cutting back and forth across the field, as their combined forces advanced on the mine. Panning across the field, her eyes settled on a rise to her right. An excellent spot to survey the battlefield, she thought. Or to command it from.

“Peyton, with me,” she said. The Gallowglas at her side peeled off with her BattleMaster as they advanced towards the rise. Their movement was met with an immediate response, as a particle cannon shot down from amongst the rocks, impacting into the Gallowglas’ side. Peyton’s return fire impacted into the cover, the hypervelocity gauss slug sending up a burst of rock fragments. As the cloud cleared, they could make out the boxy form of a Myrmidon tank already repositioning itself.

Lana angled her weapons towards the tank, but was caught off-guard. A modified mining ’Mech came barrelling down the hill at her, disgorging a volley of short-range missiles. Impacts scattered across her ’Mech, and she grappled with the controls to keep it steady. Even as she brought her ’Mech to bear on the Industrial MOD, it was upon her. It raked a broad-bladed rock cutter across the BattleMaster’s side, scuffing the armour but doing little more substantial than that.

Lana retaliated in force. She lashed out with a one-two punch, pounding the IndustrialMech with her BattleMaster’s massive fists. The second blow ruptured something on the squat industrial’s side, and she could see a thin spray of fluid gushing out at high pressure. In an instant she angled her ’Mech’s torso and fired the short-range missile launcher. Detonations scattered across the IndustrialMech, with two of them striking the impacted side. A gout of flame was followed by a bellow of thick black smoke. Suddenly limp, the mining ’Mech teetered to one side and collapsed.

Freed from her distraction, Lana turned her attention back to the Myrmidon tank, only to find it was already dealt with. Twin searing lasers cut into its turret, melting away armour and exposing the particle cannon within. A precise slug from Peyton’s gauss rifle snapped the cannon off at the base, sending the barrel flying away from the tank before clattering down the slopes behind it. The response was immediate, with the crew rapidly abandoning the tank. The two BattleMechs shared a glance, then continued their advance.

Lana only noticed the Patton tank an instant before it fired. On instinct as much as anything, she pulled Gilgamesh’s throttle to a halt and yanked back on the control stick. Her BattleMaster came to a sudden stop, an instant before impact. She watched as a Thunderbolt missile from the Patton soared just to the left of her cockpit, close enough to read the text on the missile's side. She caught a glimpse of the primitive charm dangling in a corner of the BattleMaster’s cabin before the missile detonated harmlessly behind her.

She snapped her attention back to the target before her. The BattleMaster twisted to track the tank which was already on the move. Lana snap-fired a fusillade of particle cannons which splashed against the mine’s barren ground. The Patton tank was already out of sight, having retreated behind a rock wall.
”Star Actual to all points,” Lana said as she eased the throttle forward. “Enemy commander sighted.”

—--

[Deadborder]

From the command couch of his Patton, Johan van der Kriel was doing his best to keep his force and his own tank together.

They were outnumbered and outclassed, and he knew it. One of the mercenary units on its own would have probably been enough to finish off the dregs that he had been able to pull together on its own. The pair of them were an overpowering force, a sledgehammer against eggshells. He’d hoped that his efforts would have at least slowed them, but instead they seemed to be simply unstoppable.

The roar of the Patton’s cannon cut off his thoughts for a moment as it sent another shell flying over the rock ridge he had retreated behind. Refocusing himself, he took a quick glance at his tactical display, noting the overabundance of red icons and the way they had surrounded his blue ones on three sides. I can’t win this battle, he assessed. But I can do the best to win the next one.

“All units, pull back,” he ordered. “Withdraw towards grid Foxtrot-Nine.” His goal was to keep his men together in an orderly retreat, one that would limit the enemy’s ability to follow while preserving what he could. That way they could hook up with other friendly forces and reinforce the frontline, rather than simply scattering and allow the enemy to pick them off at their leisure.

And if we can hurt them, all the better, he added. “Focus fire on their heaviest units. Destroy what you can.” It made sense that the heaviest ’Mechs in the enemy force were going to be their commanders. Eliminating them would go a long way towards helping their cause.

Especially you. He couldn’t help but remember that one Marauder that had come after him at both Baret and Abbeville. I know you’re out to get me.

The enemy force continued to advance as his own withdrew, trying their best to contain his movement and destroy what they could. A Phoenix Hawk leaped past him, its weapons lashing a Demon tank and slicing through the vehicle’s already depleted armor. A Vulcan stepped forward to face the attacker, only to be caught flat-footed by a Nightsky that was following in its wake. The attacking ’Mech bought its hatchet down on the Vulcan, severing its right arm with a crushing blow.

Ahead of him, a pair of Warhammers were pushing towards the middle of his force, unleashing a storm of PPC fire on whatever got in their way. “Take them out!” he ordered, the turret pivoting towards the pair. The cannon roared again, its shell landing between the pair and showering them in debris. If the impact bothered either MechWarrior, they didn’t let it show.

Where are you? He asked himself as he glanced around. He got his answer a moment later as the Patton was rocked by a pair of heavy impacts, its electronic displays crackling with interference for a moment. “There!” he called out, sighting the source of the attack; an all-too-familiar red Marauder striding towards him. “Rotate to three-one-five,” he called out as he locked it up on his control system. “Hit my target!”

A stream of affirmatives came moments before the Patton rocked under the recoil from its weapons. The main gun struck home, slamming into the Marauder’s side and sending it staggering back. Its Thunderbolt missile and lasers followed through, blasting more armor from the enemy BattleMech’s flank. “Got you, you bastard!” he cried out, a feeling of victory reaching him despite the situation around him. “Again!”

Damaged but not out of the fight by any means, the Marauder returned fire. Its two PPCs unleashed a hail of hellish energies that again struck the tank, shaking it but not penetrating its thick hull. Fragments from its LBX cannon pinged off the hull, doing little more than making noise. “Is that all you have?” he cried out, an eager tone in his voice. “Fire!”

The Patton returned with better than it got, its shots smashing into the enemy ’Mech. One of its blocky lower arms was torn apart by the cannon shell, destroying the weapons contained within and sending the Marauder staggering back. “I’ve got you now,” he grinned as he focused on the enemy ’Mech. “Take that you bloody bastard.”

He was about to order another volley when the Patton was rocked by a series of impacts, punctuated by the sounds of tearing metal. Moments later, the wail of alarms filled his ears. “What the bloody hell is going on?” he demanded.

“Multiple systems failures,” the technician called back from his station. “Fire control is out; engine is damaged… we have a breach in the reactor housing!” His tone turned urgent. “We need to get out now!”

For a moment, Johan hesitated, not wanting to let his enemy get away before sense and experience took over. There was no reason to stay in his tank, itself a helpless target, and die. “Abandon tank!” He called out as he hastily unbuckled his harness before opening the top hatch. “Now!”

As he clambered out of the tank, Johan couldn’t help but notice the BattleMech that had been responsible for its destruction. It wasn’t the Marauder, nor either of the Warhammers or the BattleMaster that he had tagged as their commanders. Rather, it was just a simple Shadow Hawk.

[truetanker]

More peas!!1!

TT

[Deadborder]

Guest Chapter by KayEmm

LIC Surveillance Log 546-239A

Graf Leonhard Kayserling: Baroness Sigonella, thank you for meeting me at such short notice.

Baroness Giana Sigonella: You can dispense with the pleasantries, Graf Kayserling. You are the legitimate ruler of Esteros and you made it abundantly clear that I retained my position and title at your sufferance. What do you want?

Kayserling: Very well then. I thought that I would ask this discreetly, rather than bringing it up in the briefing so as not to make things inconvenient for you.

Sigonella: Whatever this is, I do appreciate the discretion.

Kayserling: This is regarding Major Farris’ last report. I wanted to know if the mercenaries that she has allied herself with were hired by you. After all, you did hire Major Russel’s unit much like I hired Farris’.

Sigonella: They were not, and I admit that troubles me. While I would very much like to reintegrate Esteros into a larger economy, I am wary of some unknown power having designs on our world.

Kayserling: Likewise. Unfortunately, this means that we are dealing with an external factor here, one that is beyond our control.

Sigonella: And while I do appreciate Farris’ decision to ally with them to deal with the Alwaid situation, I have concerns for what will come after that.

Kayserling: We get Esteros back only to lose it.

Sigonella: Exactly. However, I do want to present an option; unofficially, of course.

Kayserling: Of course. Do go on.

Sigonella: I propose that we send a representative to meet these mercenaries and, through them, their employer. They may have their own agents on world, or they may be expecting their mercenaries to report back to them. This way, we can gather intelligence on whoever sent them, and see what threats or opportunities they present to us.

Kayserling: I agree with your idea. I assume that you have somebody in mind.

Sigonella: Indeed. I will forward you the details, but I do suggest we dispatch them as soon as possible. Ideally, I would like to see some form of interstellar trade re-established, but failing that it would be beneficial to know what we are facing.

Kayserling: And what preparations we will need to take for it.

Sigonella: Such as a strengthening of your newly formed Esteros Army, of course.

Kayserling: It is an option we have to consider, of course.

Sigonella: Of course. I will forward you the details on my agent.

Kayserling: Thank you for that.

Sigonella: This is important, and I understand your desire to act outside of the normal mechanisms of the assembly in this case. I would have done the same had things gone differently.

Kayserling: Very well then. If there is nothing else, I will await your information.

Sigonella: Actually, there is one other thing.

Kayserling: Go on.

Sigonella: I have a granddaughter who is of age and currently unmarried. I think that it would be mutually beneficial for me to introduce her to your son.

Kayserling: I understand the idea, but are you sure that is the best plan?

Sigonella: Graf Kayserling, I will be blunt here. We both know you’ve been trying to offload Johan for years. Any idiot could see your intentions with how you had him working alongside Major Farris at every step of the way. And while I appreciate your intent, I feel that this move would be better for both of us in the long run.

Kayserling: I see. Well, I will take it under consideration.

[Deadborder]

Guest chapter by KayEmm and Zogster

She Keeps no Secrets From Me

“Hi Angela! Just got a bit of downtime between operations, and I thought I’d send you an update. Don’t know when this video’s going to reach you, though. I’ll send it out to the JumpShip with our next update. Of course, interstellar communications being what they are, who knows how long it’ll take. Maybe I’ll see you before this does. Heh, maybe we’re watching it together now. In that case, hi me!

We’re on Esteros, out in the old Jade Falcon Occupation Zone. Obviously I can’t fill you in on all the details via video, but I’ll tell you when we meet up. Really looking forward to that.

Anyway, sorry. Esteros is a really beautiful place. Between the star and the atmosphere, there’s a lot of UV light, so we’ve all got to cover up while we’re outside. The locals wear these neat headscarves, and a lot of the unit have adopted them too. It’s sort of fashion around here to decorate them, and some I’ve seen look really cool. I’ve taken to putting some badges on mine. See, there’s the unit badge you gave me. Thanks for that. Other people have been doing that too, coming up with their own designs and features. Andreas actually added some feathers from a local bird to his. It looks really wild. I’m definitely going to have to keep mine afterwards.

The other thing is that it means all the plants and such have got purple foliage, to properly photosynthesise the light. The forests here are really dramatic. C’mon, here. You can see it out past the camp. Of course, that means a lot of the native animals are camouflaged in similar colours.

Oh, wow, that reminds me. There was this great moment just after we got here. We were setting up around our first objective and this… I don’t recall what the local name is, but it was sort of like this big chunky rat thing came out of the scrub. I guess I’d been looking at it for a while, but hadn’t really seen it, you know? It kind of waddled out past me and gave me this look, like it figured I wasn’t a threat and vanished back into the undergrowth. But it was sort of a dark, faded violet along its back, except for these two really bright stripes. You wouldn’t think it normally, but in its own environment, it blends in really well.

The thing is, it reminded me again just how wonderfully diverse the Inner Sphere is. I mean, we keep thinking that it’s all these human worlds spread out everywhere, but they were their own places, evolving in their own ways long before we came along. Mum – er, Katarina was talking to Kaitlyn, and Kaitlyn said that’s what she really loves about being a mercenary. Getting to see all these different new worlds.

Oh! Jeez, how’d I forget! I didn’t even tell you about that. Kaitlyn, who I mentioned, is actually the leader of another mercenary unit who’s working on Esteros. We ran into them when, well more like they ran into us. We got ambushed and it was a whole mess, and suddenly they appeared out of nowhere to save us! Turns out there’s a lot more going on with Esteros than we thought. They said there was another another mercenary unit here too, but they’d broken away when they lost their commander. Hopefully they’re out of the picture so we can concentrate on our objective.

Anyways, the Iron Knights – that’s Kaitlyn’s unit – and us have got the same objective, so we’re teaming up. It’s been really great to work so closely with another unit, just to see how people do things differently. I’m learning a lot from them already.

Oh, and I met a witch! She’s really cool. Kind of a bit strange, but in a good way? She told me that Gilgamesh was cursed, but I didn’t want to mention it to Katarina because she already worries too much. We were um…it’s kind of hard to explain. She showed me how to do some of her magic and it felt…well, I don’t know. I don’t know if it’s like magic magic, or if magic is a real thing, but it felt good to sort of focus on something and work through it before we went into battle. I guess she uses it for relaxation and the like. I feel like…I want to keep trying it. It’s definitely new and different, but that doesn’t mean it’s wrong. It works, because she’s got to be one of the best pilots I’ve ever seen. Don’t tell Wen I said that, though.

And I haven’t even asked about you! How are you doing? I can’t imagine where King’s Tigers are right now. Of course, you’ll probably be in a whole different system by the time you see this. Also, congratulations! You’ll be a full-fledged MechWarrior by now. I can’t wait to hear all about it. Um.. Because of the whole unit families and everything I got made an officer straight away, but I don’t know what Lanie’s going to do. I’ve been trying to figure what ‘Mech you’ll be assigned, but I really don’t know your unit’s equipment that well. I know you kept running rings around me in that trainer Chameleon.

Oh, I can’t wait to see you again. I wish we could talk more, face to face. It’s so weird. I mean, so many people talk about the HPGs and what it was like back then, but I guess this is just what’s normal for us. I keep thinking about what it would be like for us to keep in touch on different planets. Maybe someday?

Anyway, I’m rambling, and this thing’s just getting huge. Say a big hi to your sis for me. I can’t wait to hear about your new ‘Mech and your first missions and everything. Gosh, I’m so excited for you. Can’t wait to catch up. I really miss you.”

-----

Jakub paused for a moment, holding the camera at arms’ length. In the bustle of the shared mercenary units’ encampment, there was a moment of quiet, of stillness. There was one more thing to say, one little thing to mention. But not like this. Probably best to say it when they actually met. With a broad smile, his eyes slightly damp, he added a quick “Bye!” and stopped the recording.

It was then that he noticed Iulia Dragan, patiently watching him, peering out from under her own headwrap that left only her eyes uncovered. “What are you doing?” she asked, her tone more curious than anything else.

“Oh! Jakub beamed. “I’m recording a video for my, uh, friend Angela King.”

Iulia blinked. “King?”

“Um, yes,” he continued. “She’s the daughter of Lanie King, who commands another mercenary unit, King’s Tigers. We’ve known each other for some time; Lanie is friends with Lana and all.”

“King’s... Tigers,” Iulia trailed off, before whispering to herself in her own language. “Nothing is chance. Everything happens for a reason. There is a pattern to all things.”

“Is something wrong?” Jakub asked.

“No, is nothing,” Iulia finished with an unseen smile. “And have fun with your video.”

—--

Kaitlyn Farris had always known that the Red Son was old, poorly maintained and being held together by jury-rigging and prayers as much as anything else. Meeting the Star of Sumer and seeing their DropShips had only reinforced that point. However, as she made her way through the ship right now, that difference was the last thing on her mind.

Iulia Dragan, her friend and second in command had wanted to speak to her, with a tone suggesting that it was important. That she wanted to meet here in the ship’s bunkrooms rather than out in the open made it clear that this was something that needed to be handled discretely and hidden from their newfound allies for whatever reason. That made her all the more wary of what it might be.

Has she discovered something about them that the Star want to hide? That seemed unlikely from her interactions so far. Lana Kotovski had come off as one of the most straitlaced and honest people she had ever met, one who carried herself with a code of conduct that she expected her people to follow. Katarina Morrison was friendly and honest, but again seemed to be willing to put everything out in the open. And it’s not like I’ve been entirely forthcoming either, she admitted to herself.

She stepped into the bunkroom where Iulia was waiting, alone. The first thing that struck her was that her friend had an unusually concerned look on her face. “What’s this about?” Kaitlyn asked, not wanting to waste time.

“it is something that I overheard from one of the Star’s people,” Iulia explained. “He is in contact with a member of another mercenary command; King’s Tigers.”

Kaitlyn blinked in surprise as the words registered. “King’s Tigers,” she repeated. “They still exist.”

“Yes,” Iulia nodded.

“Which means...” Kaitlyn opened up her locker, fishing through it before she pulled out a notebook, and opened to a specific page.

“This King might know something, yes,” Iulia agreed.

Kaitlyn found the page she was looking for; taped to it was a photograph of three people. A heavy-set man with a thick black beard, an almost skeletal woman with short-cropped white hair and a man in a stylish purple suit. Their names were written below the photo.

Morgan Blackstone. Nina Raymond. Jackson King.

She nodded nervously. “This...this was the last thing my father told me before m- before Blackstone abducted him,” she finally spoke up. “He never even got to explain it. Whatever secret these three had, it was enough for Blackstone to go to great lengths to try and keep for himself.”

“We assumed that King and Raymond were dead,” Iulia considered. “And that the secret, whatever it was, died with them.”

“That was always the story my father told me,” she agreed. “We survived the Jihad when they didn’t, by running and hiding. But if King is out there...”

“There is no such thing as a coincidence,” Iulia stated. “Everything happens for a reason.”

Kaitlyn nodded. “We need to find out what we can about them. But at the same time...” she glanced around the room. “The mission comes first. The Star are our allies, and I do not want to risk that over my own family.”
“Of course.”

She managed a weak smile. “And thank you for telling me this. It... it’s not what I expected at all.”

“The universe moves in mysterious ways,” Iulia replied. “But we can move with it.”

[Deadborder]

Guest chapter by KayEmm and Zogster

First Date

Outside Lublin
Alwaid
Esteros

Yasir Malik was conflicted. Lying on his belly on the moist earth, nestled in amongst the lilac-coloured scrub, he was all but invisible. He surveyed the area before him through his binoculars. A crude supply depot sat at the bottom of the rise. It looked like it had been an old factory out in an overgrown field, probably shut down long before Mandragov’s forces came along. Now it was bustling with activity.

He quietly counted out the forces arrayed around. A pair of converted industrial ‘Mechs stood watch, heavy weapons crudely bolted to their frames. Two Winterhawk APCs sat idle by the factory, with a smattering of armed infantry spread out among the grounds. But what concerned him the most was the civilians.

He could see a number of workers moving in and out of the former factory, hauling crates and supplies. They were loading up a collection of smaller trucks, no doubt civilian vehicles pressed into service by the Warlord’s men. Even from here, Yasir could see the nervous looks they gave the armed soldiers surrounding them.

A pang of sympathy tugged at his heart. Yasir had been pressed into service with the Red Reapers, much like these civilians. While his role as a scout had afforded him a great deal of autonomy, he still feared running from the unit. And from what they’d seen of Mandragov’s people, escaping to their mercy would be no improvement. No, for now he would stay at Violetta’s command. But the moment an opportunity presented itself…

Yasir’s radio crackled to life. “Report,” came the voice of his commanding officer over the other end.

Shifting slightly, Yasir reached up and tapped his earpiece. “Located the depot, just as Guise reported.”

“His intel was on the money,” Violetta mused on the other end.

“Surprised?” came Maeve’s voice over the channel. “Or are you going to have to admit he’s useful for something?”

“Clear the channel,” Violetta spat back.

There was silence for an overly long moment before Yasir spoke up once more. “I make two industrial mods, two APCs and approximately two platoons of infantry.”

“Easy pickings.” There was a brief crackle on the radio as another channel was added. “Demon command, this is Reaper command. We have located the supply depot, exactly where you said.”

“Of course,” Lewis Guise’s voice crackled into the channel, more than a hint of confidence in his tone. “My recon forces have extensively mapped the area. There’s nothing we’re not ready for.”

“My raiding force will be there in five. We’ll be ready to move when Mandragov’s forces respond.”

“Understood. The Screaming Demons are also ready and will be with you,” Guise added.

“This is going to be a very profitable partnership,” Violetta finished, before cutting Guise out of the channel. Yasir couldn’t help but notice how much sweeter she sounded when talking to him.

He slowly pulled himself to his feet, and cleared the branches concealing his quad ATV. He needed to be ready to move. Violetta would be sending her ‘miscellaneous detachment,’ an off-the-books lance of BattleMechs set up for raiding and terror operations. The garrison forces Mandragov had here wouldn’t stand a chance. Neither would the civilians.

The minutes dragged by as he waited. Down below, the workers kept loading up their trucks, unaware of what was about to happen. Without warning, a swarm of short-range missiles erupted from the treeline. They spread across the open field before bursting in mid-air, raining burning gel down on the infantry below. Yasir winced as he heard them scream.

The defending forces immediately responded. Both hovercraft kicked into gear, weaving among the burning patches of ground. The IndustrialMechs, a Crosscut and Buster, lumbered into action, turning their backs on the factory. From the treeline emerged a trio of Battlemechs. Yasir saw the distinctive modified Hunchback, accompanied by a Caliope and Koshi.

The battle was joined. The two Winterhawk APCs sped towards the emerging ‘Mechs, concentrating their fire on the Hunchback. Short-range missiles peppered across its legs. It returned fire with a pair of plasma cannons from its bulky shoulder housing, but the hovercraft were too fast for its pilot.

The two industrial ‘Mechs strode forwards, firing downrange. A barrage of autocannon shells impacted on the Calliope’s chest, rocking it back. The ‘Mech returned fire with its plasma cannon. A searing blue lance cut straight through the Crosscut’s upper arm, neatly severing it and dropping the dual chainsaws to the ground.

Yasir panned his binoculars back over to the factory. The infantry had abandoned their positions, and the civilian workers were following suit. They scattered out into the fields beyond, fleeing from the oncoming BattleMechs. A sigh of relief escaped his lips. They would be relatively safe from the carnage.

As the IndustrialMechs closed, the fourth member of the miscellaneous detachment emerged. A Firestarter OmniMech jetted overhead, twisting in mid-air to land behind them. It fired a pair of brilliant blue lasers that punched through the rear of the Buster, staggering the ‘Mech. A quartet of Battle Armour troopers dismounted the Firestarter before launching on their own jump jets towards the factory.

The Hunchback twisted in place, trying to track one of the speeding hovercraft. It raked the BattleMech’s legs with machine gun fire, staying just ahead of its plasma cannons. The Koshi strode forward and fired, disgorging a swarm of short-range missiles directly in the Winterhawk’s path. They burst right in front of it, engulfing the vehicle with incendiary gel. The burning hovercraft spun out of control and slammed violently into a rock outcropping before detonating in a massive explosion.

“Nice,” growled Rickie, the Hunchback pilot. He turned his attention to the Crosscut, just as it opened fire. The autocannon slammed into the Hunchback’s weakened leg. Yasir watched as the bulky ‘Mech staggered and fell to one knee. “You’ll burn for that!” Rickie bellowed over the comm, making Yasir wince. The Hunchback returned fire, its dual plasma cannons joined by a third from the Calliope. Their fire raked over its body, reducing its minimal armour to slag. The Crosscut rapidly overheated under their assault, and shut down.

“Don’t kill them too fast,” Violetta’s voice came over the comm. “We want to stir up the hornet’s nest, not knock it down.”

“Then give me better targets,” Rickied replied. The Hunchback got to its feet and limped forwards. It gave the Crosscut an unceremonious shove, tipping it over.

Seeing movement by the factory, Yasir turned his attention in that direction. The Battle Armour squad was rapidly moving between the remaining infantry forces. Rifle fire deflected harmlessly off their armoured bodies while they cut the soldiers down. Outside, one of the workers clambered into a truck’s cabin.

“Come on… Get out of there,” Yasir hissed under his breath. He watched helplessly as the Battle Armour squad turned their attention to the truck. Just as it started moving, they lit up their flamers. The ammunition loaded on the back ignited in an instant, and the truck vanished in the ensuing fireball.

Yasir cursed under his breath and looked away. Fire washed across the fields, lapping closer to the treeline. The remaining defenders were crumbling under the assault. For all that, the factory and its stores were mostly untouched.

“What’s our status?” Violetta asked over the comm.

“Mission success,” Yasir bitterly replied.

—--

Lewis Guise had assessed Violetta’s plan and found it to be to his liking. At the most basic level, she was sending a small force to raid behind Mandragov’s front lines and cause havoc, which would then distract their frontline forces. Then, the Screaming Demons and Red Reapers would begin their own attack. It wasn’t the most sophisticated plan, but it would definitely suffice given the forces that they were up against. Watching from the situation room on board the Inferno, he was carefully studying the map of the region.

“It seems they actually know what they’re doing,” he considered to himself.

“You sound surprised,” Marko replied with some wariness.

“Not surprised, no,” he responded. “More of reassured. Don’t get me wrong, I saw the opportunity in our alliance, but I admit I had my own concerns about our would-be allies.”

“And what do you mean by that?”

“It’s clear that Major Vujic and Captain Cullen have some… issues,” he explained. “I mean, it makes sense. They’re both women, so they’re going to get all emotional about everything instead of thinking it all through. They both know what they’re doing, however, and I think we can rely on them. Even if I have to nudge them in the right direction,” he smiled to himself.

“Of course,” Marko nodded, his tone carefully neutral.

Anything that he would have added was cut off by an incoming message. “Major Guise here,” Lewis responded with clear confidence.

“This is Lieutenant Greene,” the voice of his recon commander crackled over the system. “I’m picking up comms traffic within Mandragov’s forces. It looks like the raiders got their attention.

“Excellent,” he smiled. “Ready the troops. We’ve got a war to win”

—--

[Deadborder]

Barandov, Alwaid
Esteros

The command centre in Barandov had served a number of purposes in its life. Originally it had housed forces belonging to the house guards of one of Alwaid’s now-extinct noble families. Then, after the invasion, it had been taken over by the Jade Falcons for their garrison and paramilitary forces. Now it was acting as the regional command for Dimitri Mandragov’s forces, cementing their control over the eastern expanse of his empire.

Major Geena da Silva, the regional commander, was doing the same thing she had been doing for the last two days; glaring over the large holotable in the middle of the room that was projecting a map of the area around Barandov. Several angry red marks were scattered across the western side of the map, the sites of attacks by an unidentified raider force. For the last three days they had been bedeviling her forces, hitting whatever targets that they found before slipping away into the wilderness.

You can’t run forever, she considered. She had sent forces to hunt them down and bring an end to their operations, but so far that had turned into a wild goose chase. The raiders, whoever they were, had proven to be remarkably good at evading their pursuers. “Any updates?” She called out, not looking up from the map.

“None as yet,” a technician simply replied.

Damn. “And are we any closer to confirming their identity?”

“The current theory is that they’re the renegade mercenaries who were operating around Svboda,” Somebody else suggested. “Possibly moving up from the south to avoid our frontier.”

“Which means this is a good chunk of their force,” she nodded. “It could almost be worth sending more after them.”

Before anyone else could comment, the communications technician cut in. “Report coming in of a large force on the move,” he stated. “Presently west-south-west of here, but moving towards Barandov.”

“Wait, what?” She snapped as a new icon was placed onto the map, on the opposite side of the city to where the raiders had been operating. “Who are they?”

“Unclear,” the technician commented.

Can’t be Olegi, unless he’s gotten way too cocky. “Any estimate on their forces?”

“Uh...” there was a pause. “Estimated at least twenty BattleMechs, plus supporting units.”

“Twenty?” She spat. She had only a company of BattleMechs, but more in tanks, infantry and other forces. Of course, half of her unit were scattered across the countryside, “Issue recall orders and get everything back here immediately!”

“Understood,” the technician quickly went back to work as she returned to the map, looking at the position of her units relative to the enemy force. Already she was seeing that her people wouldn’t get back to the city before the main body of the enemy force were on her.

Damn them, she snarled to herself as she glowered at the map.

-----

Outside Barandov, Alwaid
Esteros

As the first hostile red indicators appeared on his tactical display, Lewis Guise couldn’t help but feel pleased with himself. The enemy force appeared to be spread out and disorganized, while the terrain around them (largely open with scattered low-level buildings) wouldn’t offer them any real advantages. They fell for our plan, he told himself, a smile creeping onto his features. This is all thanks to me and the information I was able to feed our friends.

“Engaging with enemy forces,” Greene’s voice crackled over the communicator. “Looks like two lances of medium BattleMechs and at least two companies of tanks.”

Again, exactly as planned, Lewis nodded to himself. “Understood. Pin them in place. We are right behind you.” He flipped over to a broad command channel before Greene had any chance to respond. “This is Demon Actual to all units. Fire at will.”

He pushed the throttle on his Archer forward, the heavy ‘Mech accelerating as it moved towards the enemy line. The rest of his lance were arrayed around him in a diamond formation, with him at the back to provide support. On either side, the Screaming Demons’ conventional forces also sped up; tanks maintaining formation with his lance, while faster hovercraft sped ahead. A glance at his display told him that the Red Reapers were following suit.

He opened a private channel. “Everything’s going according to plan, Major Vujic,” he commented. “My plan and your men made for an excellent combination.”

“We mop these forces up, and the rest will have nowhere to go,” his opposite number responded.

Ahead of him, several missiles struck Markov’s Koschei, worrying armor but doing little else. The dome-headed BattleMech merely weathered the barrage and continued to advance as shots went off around it. Lewis quickly located the source of the attack, a Maxim hover transport that was dashing for cover. He quickly centred his sights on the enemy vehicle and, as soon as he got a positive tone, unleashed two flights of long-range missiles from the Archer’s shoulder pods.

Maybe two-thirds of the missiles hit home, smashing into the enemy vehicle. Rocked by the impacts, it span and then skidded to a halt in the middle of a road, its air skirt shredded by his hits. As Lewis cheered to himself, he could see infantry troops bailing out of the crippled vehicle and dashing for cover. Good start.

Markov and the board-shouldered Exhumer next to him opened fire on the enemy line, cannon and laser fire lashing a Patton tank. Lewis joined them, adding another flight of missiles as well as his Large Laser to the assault, the weapons gouging huge chunks from the tank’s armor. Its return fire was scattered, with autocannon rounds hitting the Exhumer while doing little to slow their advance. A Brutus tank moved up to support its damaged colleague, only to be subject to more punishing fire.

An alarm in his cockpit got his attention as moments later a flight of missiles smashed into the Archer’s upper body. Grunting, Lewis was shaken inside the cockpit, but otherwise unharmed. “Who was...” he considered as he quickly checked his display, noting that both the Patton and Brutus were now focusing their fire on his lancemates. Instead another pair of icons caught his attention, with a pair of BattleMechs further back from the front line having focused their attention on him.

Makes sense. I am the biggest threat here.

Undeterred, he pushed the Archer forwards towards the pair of them. A Crusader was using one of the low-lying buildings for what little cover it could get, while a smaller Cobra was lurking nearby. He targeted the medium BattleMech, unleashing another hail of fire onto it. A little over half the missiles struck home, peppering the enemy BattleMech and causing it to stagger, but not fall.

As the Cobra readied for another attack, it was struck by a bolt of laser fire that sliced into one of its weapon arms. Greene’s Chameleon leaped towards it, causing the enemy MechWarrior to spin around and snap off a pair of missile volleys at the newcomer. This time they went well wide as Greene kept moving, cutting around the flank of the enemy ‘Mech.

You make a good distraction, Lewis considered as he focused on the Crusader. Continuing to close down the distance, he opened fire again with his missiles and large laser. Ignoring the heat in the cockpit from his attack, he was more focused on the results. The laser stitched an angry scar across the Crusader’s blocky chest, while the missiles whittled away its armor.

Damaged but not out by any means, the Crusader replied with its own missiles, scattering damage across the Archer’s hull. A quick glance at his damage display as he waited for his weapons to cycle told Lewis that it had done little more than pockmark his armor. Not a problem, he told himself as he opened fire again, while flipping open his command channel. “This is Demon Lead to Reaper Lead. I have eyes on probable enemy commander.”

-----

“Copy, Demon Lead,” Violetta replied from her Gunslinger’s spacious cockpit. The battle was laid out before her exactly as they had planned. The Screaming Demons had engaged the front line of Mandragov’s forces, while her own unit had moved in from the flank. Maeve’s cavalry lance was moving ahead, bounding between the low-lying buildings and mostly keeping out of their fire. Her own electronic warfare suite had managed to keep her command lance off the radar until they had reached their range.

“Cut them down,” she said eagerly. The response was immediate. The Longbow and Bandersnatch at her sides opened up with flights of long-ranged missiles, raining down among Mandragov’s tanks. The missiles slammed into the low-lying buildings as much as the armoured vehicles, collapsing many of them and leaving the enemy forces exposed. She opened up with her Gunslinger’s gauss rifles. The Helios’ fire joined her own smashing into a Behemoth tank. The massive vehicle absorbed their shots, and slowly rotated towards them.

Already the battle was shifting. Caught in a pincer, the enemy’s formation was crumbling, allowing Guise’s forces to advance. At the same time, a large division of heavy tanks emerged from cover, trundling towards her advancing lance.

-----

“Enemy armour is heavier than anticipated,” Maeve reported from the cockpit of her Scourge. She landed in a run, catching shells along her flank from a Demolisher. She paused behind a blocky fire station as it tracked it with its turret, autocannons pounding out a constant barrage of fire. Shells impacted against the brickwork, but the old station held. Maeve’s Scourge poked out of cover to fire off a slug from its Gauss rifle. The shot pinged off the tank’s armoured hide, leaving it largely undamaged. Ballistic reinforced armour, Maeve thought to herself.

-----

[Deadborder]

“Can you advance?” Violetta asked as she zeroed in on Maeve’s position.

“Negative,” came the reply. “Tell Guise he’ll have to deal with the ‘Mechs himself.”

Violetta cursed loudly. The last thing she wanted was to lose face before Lewis Guise. Not that she valued his opinion; rather that she didn’t want to give him more leverage in their partnership.

“Reaper Lead to Demon Lead,” Violetta began through clenched teeth. “Encountering heavy resistance. Will not be able to reinforce.”

—--

“Understood,” Guise replied, with just the slightest hint of smug self-assurance in his voice. The battle was going exactly as he had expected it would, with the Screaming Demons proving to be quite effective against the Warlord’s forces. Looking at his tactical display, he could see how his forces had pushed deeply into their position, while the Reapers were still somewhat further back.
Violetta probably didn’t think this through at all, he told himself. Which means that it’s up to me to pull us through.

Ahead of him, the Crusader let loose another volley of missile fire at Marko’s Koschei. A score of long-range missiles peppered the broad torso of the ‘Mech, but did little to slow it down. In reply, his lieutenant let loose with a burst of autocannon fire that smashed into the Crusader’s upper body, staggering it before a PPC blast speared into its blocky chest.

Seeing an opportunity, Guise added his own fire to the conflagration. Two flights of missiles smashed into the Crusader, rocking the heavy BattleMech as it struggled to stand under the impact. His Large Laser followed through, eagerly devouring the structure of its right arm before severing the limb at the elbow. The Crusader’s pilot managed to keep their footing under the assault by leaning on a warehouse for support, the building crumpling under the weight.

“Greene,” he called out over his command channel. “Take your lance and head to grid Echo-Niner to support our allies. It looks like they could use our help.”

“Roger that,” Greene replied. To his side he could see his Chameleon and the rest of his lance in motion, quickly darting around the edge of the battlefield.

He quickly changed channels again. “Don’t worry, Major Vujic,” Lewis announced, sounding pleased with himself. “Help is on the way.”

—--

Violetta gritted her teeth. The last thing she wanted was to admit failure  in front of the Screaming Demons' commander, but the situation had not turned out as planned. “Confirm,” she briefly replied. “Reinforce cavalry lance.” Her command lance could hold for the moment, but Maeve couldn’t do much while pinned down.

She had to advance. She didn’t doubt Maeve’s capabilities as a pilot or a commander, but knew that she was in a bad situation. And a knot in her gut said that she wanted to be the one to help out her captain, as much to keep her unit’s reputation intact as…

Instead she faced her own adversaries. A Behemoth and Ontos advanced on her position, the Behemoth keeping her pinned down with a constant barrage of autocannon fire. She warily eyed the Ontos, knowing the kind of firepower it could unleash at close range. She needed to break them up.

“Command three, break left and advance. Draw their fire,” she said. There was a moment’s hesitation before the Helios pilot acknowledged. The Batllemech Launched into the air, firing down on the Behemoth tank and peppering its body with short-range missiles. The Behemoth rotated its turret, trying to track the jumping ‘Mech.

With the pressure off, Violetta broke to the right, circling around the tank. A pair of precise shots from her gauss rifles crashed into the side of its turret, shattering one of the sizable autocannons. Wounded, the Behemoth retreated across an old used car park, grinding civilian vehicles under its treads. It took shelter behind an office block. “Too late,” Violetta said to herself. Her Gunslinger’s Beagle Probe had been tracking the vehicle, and showed its location clearly. She put another two slugs straight through the office building, which punched into the Behemoth’s turret, ripping it asunder. The massive tank came to a grinding halt.

A brilliant flare of light to her right caught Violetta’s attention. The Ontos tank had brought its full firepower on her lancemate’s Helios. Eight lasers burned their way up the BattleMech’s flank, cutting their way into its leg and torso. Rivers of molten slag washed off the Helios’ body, exposing delicate components within. As the blinding flare faded, the heavy ‘Mech took a tenuous step forwards, but something gave way in its leg and it came crashing to the pavement.

It was worth it for the distraction, she thought to herself, eyeing the crippled Helios. She gritted her teeth and swung around to fire on the Ontos. A pair of gauss shots went wide as the tank turned to bring its weaponry to bare on her. Before it could fire, two flights of long-range missiles streaked in from behind. They peppered across the tank, tearing into its tracks and stopping it dead. A quick glance revealed their source - Lewis Guise’s Archer had freed itself from its own engagement.

“Their commander’s out of action,” Guise commented over the command channel, his tone making it clear that he was the one responsible for putting them down. “I have this.”

“Jackson!” Violetta yelled out. Her second in command spun the Longbow’s torso and fired. An endless swarm of missiles disgorged from the massive BattleMech, raining down on the tank. The Ontos simply vanished under the sheer volume of detonations. Violetta smirked in her cockpit and said to herself “Mine’s bigger.”

—--

While the situation had changed, Maeve was still bogged down. Reports were coming in of the Screaming Demons' medium lance harrying the rear of the enemy’s armour. Her lance’s Griffin and Lynx had broken cover to join in the assault. But for now, she had her own problems.

The Demolisher’s heavy autocannons were keeping her at bay, and its ballistic armour made her gauss rifle less than effective. While her Scourge’s lasers could cut through it with ease, she hadn’t been able to close to get an accurate shot. Furthermore, the enemy’s dug-in infantry forces had been taking potshots at her. As much as she hated the miscellaneous detachment, she could see their use right about now.

“Cavalry two, come in. Could do with some help,” she called out as she maneuvered between buildings. The Demolisher was nicely entrenched in a train station, giving it cover from its sides. Maeve knew she couldn’t take it out on her own.

“Cavalry two. I have a Musketeer on my tail, close to your position,” came the report from the Verfolger’s pilot.

An idea came to mind. “Cut in, Cavalry two. Let’s change dance partners.”

“Copy that,” was the reply. Maeve could almost see the smile on his face. Quickly turning the Scourge, she cut back the way she came. Soon she could see the Verfolger sprinting down the road towards her with a heavy hovertank trailing close behind her. Her lancemate cut in his jump jets, soaring into the air and giving her a clear shot at the advancing hovertank. Her gauss rifle cut into its front, while the lasers seared along its side, shredding the lift skirt to ribbons. The Musketeer careened out of control, spinning frantically down the road at her. Avancing, she aimed a solid kick at the out of control hovercraft. Her Scourge’s heavy foot crashed into the hovercraft’s side, lifting it up and flipping it onto its back.

At the same time the Verfolger soared into the sky. Briefly confused, the Demolisher raised its autocannons, trying to track the airborne ‘Mech. Rapid-fire shells streaked past the Verfolger as it arced overhead. It fired its lasers and particle cannon down on the ensconced tank. They cut into its ballistic armour as if it wasn’t there, opening up a gaping hole in the tank’s front. The Verfolger landed on the train tracks, straight ahead of the damaged tank. With nowhere to move, it tracked its autocannons back down, raining impacts across the heavy BattleMech’s body. Unphased, the Verfolger fired again, its barrage cutting straight down the line and boring into the damaged tank. The Demolisher’s massive autocannons abruptly cut out, signaling the end of the vehicle.

“Nice work, Cavalry two,” Maeve said, seeing his handiwork.

“Right back at you, boss,” he replied.

Maeve flicked over the comm channels on her dashboard. “Cavalry one to Reaper lead. We’re in the clear.” She smirked from her cockpit and added “Do you need me to hold your hand?”

Violetta scoffed to herself. “Negative. Reinforce the Demons, as planned.”

“Copy,” came Maeve’s reply.

—--

Violetta watched the cavalry lance move out on her tactical display, and smiled despite herself. In a way, Maeve’s acerbic quips were reassuring. It meant the pressure was off, and things were finally going to plan.

-----

[Deadborder]

Lewis Guise could see that the tide of the battle had well and truly turned in their favor. His flanking action had been a success, with Greene taking a lot of pressure off the Reavers’ forces. Already he could see the Mandragov forces collapsing back, doing their best to consolidate what they had left while trying to extract themselves from a losing battle.

And it’s all thanks to me, he told himself with a smile. My intel, my plan, my saving the day.

He let loose a volley of missile fire directed at a retreating Bulldog tank. The warheads smashed into the vehicle, savaging its already depleted armor across the side and turret. The searing blue beam of his large laser added to the assault, slicing through the depleted protection and piercing through into the tank’s interior. A moment later he saw the top hatch open, the crew clambering out as black smoke began to pour from the rents in its hull.

Ahead of him, Marko’s Kosheci continued to pour fire into the enemy lines, punishing those that were unable to get away from him. A quick glance at the display told him that his lieutenant had suffered some damage, but was definitely still in the fight. The Exhumer next to him had lost one of its arms, but that didn’t seem to have bothered the MechWarrior as they continued to press their own assault.

Lewis took a moment to glance at his own tactical display. He’d so far suffered only light armor damage, with his Archer being otherwise unharmed. His biggest concern at this point was running out of missiles.

On the other side, it was clear that Madragov’s forces were in full retreat. They’d already suffered punishing losses, ones that would be made worse by the amount of salvage that they would be leaving behind. Perfect, he told himself as he continued his advance. Everything has worked out just as I had hoped.

-----

After ejecting from her Crusader, Geena de Silva had done little more than run. She’d tried her best to find cover, eventually taking refuge behind a building that had not yet been caught up in the fighting.

In many ways, the experience was humbling for her. In her short time as a MechWarrior, she had become used to seeing the battlefield from up on high, protected by thick armor and with an arsenal of powerful weapons at her disposal. Now that she was trying to flee the battle on foot, she’d come to realize just how terrifying a BattleMech looked from the point of view of someone on the ground, and just how insignificant she was. She may have been the commander of this force, but right now she barely warranted any attention.

Taking a moment to catch her breath, she activated her communicator. “This is actual to all forces. I need a pick-up ASAP.”

There was a pause before a reply came over, crackling with static. “What is your location, actual?”

She wanted to call out a map grid location out of habit, but didn’t even have that at her disposal. Instead, she desperately searched around. “Behind a building, a block back from the wreckage of my Crusader.” It was the only landmark she could think of, even if it pained her to mention it.

“Roger that. On our way,” the voice replied.

She glanced around again, doing her best to take in the situation. While she didn’t have all her command and tactical systems at hand, it was clear that her forces were withering under the assault from these invaders. Whoever they are, Mandragov needs to know, she told herself.

-----

The dust had settled over Barandov. Conflict had scarred the city as far as could be seen. Violetta Vujic drew her Gunslinger up to face Lewis Guise’s Archer, where the late afternoon’s sun cast its long shadow over the fallen Crusader.

“A good clean victory,” she said to her opposite number. “We’ve routed Mandragov’s forces from the region.”

“After the Demons came to your aid,” Lewis replied. Unseen in her cockpit, Violetta scowled at the man. She knew he would hold this over her for as long as he could. For now, she ignored him.

“We’ll be able to move on Tirana unopposed. It’ll be good to finish this off.”

“After we have re-armed,” Lewis interjected. “Naturally, I’ll be claiming this Crusader as salvage.”

“Of course,” Violetta all but spat her reply. Sadly with the outcome of the battle, she wasn’t in a position to argue. Instead, she turned her BattleMech away to form up with her unit. She stood by what she had said; it would be good to be done with this contract once and for all. Especially to be rid of Lewis Guise.

[Deadborder]

LIC Surveillance Log 553-271D

Baroness Giana Sigonella: This is an unexpected pleasure. I had not expected to ever hear from any of you, let alone two of you at once.

Ruhi Panja: I think you for your time, Baroness Sigonella, as well as your willingness to listen to us.

Christoforo Salera: Given the current fluidity of the situation, I appreciate the opportunity.

Sigonella: And by that, you two both mean the soon to be end of Mandragov and his empire. A moment that I suspect you both are entirely in favour of, while at the same time, fearing what comes next.

Salera: That would be a fair assessment, yes.

Sigonella: I can understand your sentiment. So far, the Assembly’s efforts have been entirely focused on his empire. After all, he had the biggest army and held the most territory of all of you. In fact, more than most of the rest of you put together.

Panja: This... is true. We both feel that as soon as Mandragov is put down then the assembly will come after us.

Sigonella: I can see where this is going. Neither of you have any desire to lose what little power you have, or to face justice for what you’ve done.

Panja: I mean, we could both try to dress it up as what was needed in the wake of the power vacuum created by the Falcons’ withdrawal, but you are correct.

Salera: We know that the Assembly would like to see us both hang.

Sigonella: So then you would like me to persuade the Assembly to... what? Not send their mercenaries after you?

Panja: We were thinking a cease-fire. We would effectively renounce all claim on Mandragov’s former holdings and let the Assembly resume control of them. In return, the Assembly will leave us be to continue running our current holdings.

Salera: We would also stop fighting each other as a sign of good faith, to prove that we are a viable alternative.

Sigonella: Interesting. I suppose I could sell this to the Assembly with some effort. I know that there are those that would be willing to listen if it meant they wouldn’t have to hire mercenaries and continue funding this little war.

Panja: Do you think that would work?

Sigonella: Right now, reunification is a popular cause, but there are those who don’t like having to pay for it. And while Major Farris has proven to be a popular figure with the media, we cannot guarantee that the same would happen with anyone else we hire. I can definitely see avenues for making this work. [Pause] I do have one question, however.

Panja: What is it?

Sigonella: Why come to me to arrange a deal rather than going to Graf Kayserling directly?

Salera: To be honest, Baroness Sigonella, we all know that Graf Kayserling has been... ambitious in his pursuit of reunification, and as such, would be less likely to negotiate with us. However, we both felt that you would have more to gain through this.

Panja: And in addition, should this work out, we would both be very grateful to you and willing to aid you in... whatever matters may occur in future.

Sigonella: Very well then. Give me some time and I will see what I can arrange. But I feel that this could be beneficial to all of us.

[Deadborder]

Guest chapter by KayEmm and Zogster

Titanfall

Tirana, Alwaid
Esteros
 
Dimitri Mandragov looked over the map, fully aware of what it represented. A few months ago, he effectively controlled Alwaid. From its heart, he ruled a string of cities that stretched across its length and breadth, their loyalty ensured by his army. The Esteros Assembly, the planet’s legitimate rulers, were divided against themselves, and lacked the ability to enforce their rule over the continent. Those other warlords around him had been cowed by his strength, and had chosen to let him be rather than risk being destroyed.

And then it had all fallen apart. The Assembly had hired mercenaries to restore their vision of order to the continent, which meant bringing down his empire. Two other mercenary groups had joined in the campaign; while he did not know what their objectives were or even who had hired them, it was clear that their goals included the destruction of his empire. In the course of only a few weeks, his Empire had been dismantled and the bulk of his armies destroyed.

He heard the footsteps entering the room. Without even turning, he knew who they were and likely what they had to say. “Report?” he asked, more a formality than anything else.

“Our scouts have confirmed that the mercenaries are holding position in the western hills,” Tansel Sayyid reported.

“As expected,” he grunted. “And the eastern front?”

“For the moment they are still east of the Georges River,” she added.

He glanced at the map, figuring their locations. The eastern front was still several days away at best, and there were still remnant forces between them and Tirana. On the other side, the western front was basically upon him, with nothing left between them and the city. “I see.” He considered. “I suppose there is no sign of our supplier.”

“None,” she admitted.

He nodded. Their mysterious supplier had been the element that had made him, supplying him with BattleMechs and tanks in exchange for minerals and some service to be rendered in the future. However, they had not been seen since the arrival of the mercenaries on the world, making him wonder if the two had not been unconnected. At this point, a shipment of fresh ‘Mechs would have done little more than given him more warm bodies to throw at the enemy, but it would have still been better than nothing.

“And the other warlords?”

“None of them have made any moves,” she replied. “Most likely they are trying to shore up their own holdings.”

“Of course,” he nodded. He had neither sought out or expected any aid from the other Warlords, knowing that they would be more concerned about their own survival than anything else.

There was an awkward pause. “What are your orders, sir?”

He continued to glare at the map, as if he could will a better solution out of it. “We have no choice,” he considered. “Surrender is not an option. The Assembly will want to bring us down as a sign to the other warlords that they are reasserting their power. I expect that they will have us executed to send a message.” He tapped the map.

“Could we go to ground?”

“We spent ten years hiding from the Falcons,” he considered, which Sayyid quietly nodded to. “I do not think either of us want to do that again.” Even at the thought, old memories began to bubble back to the surface, ones that he thought that he had kept well buried.

“No,” she admitted. Sayyid had been one of his first followers and had fought alongside him for years.

“So we fight,” he simply replied. “We either drive them back, or we die trying. Either way, this will be our last battle.”

-----

Outside Tirana, Alwaid
Esteros

From her vantage point in the rocky foothills beyond Tirana, Lana Kotovski surveyed the city. It was spread out across the flat hollow before her, stretching from the base of the foothills to the great lake beyond. Much of it seemed to be industrial plants churning away to bring the warlord Mandragov his wealth, but in the distance she could make out the capitol building, seated on a rise above the rest of the city.

She passed the binoculars to Kaitlyn Farris, pointing out the encampments far into the city. “Looks like Mandragov’s had plenty of time to dig in and reinforce. Layout gives us almost no cover on approach.” She indicated then to the sweeping docks on the far side from their approach. “Harbourside is probably the least defended, but we can’t make much use of it. Anyway you look at it, this is going to be a grind.”

“I have to agree there,” Kaitlyn replied as she looked over the view of the city. It seemed oddly familiar to her, even if she had never seen this particular view before, a reminder of places past. “I’m still worried by how fast his army folded against us. Either there were less of them than we were lead to believe, or he has managed to consolidate a bigger force than we have planned for.”
She paused. “I would like to think that it’s the former rather than the latter. Even then, I’m worried that there might be something else going on that has led to this collapse.”

“Given his efforts to delay us, I’m going to assume the latter,” Lana replied. She paused a moment, placing a hand over her earpiece as she took in reports from her unit. After a moment, she nodded and returned her attention to Kaitlynn.

“We’re probably even on raw numbers. Our combined units have got more BattleMechs, but his armour is going to be entrenched and make us pay for every block.” She indicated to a quartet of tanks on the rise up to the capitol. “Worst part is, he’s got a lance of Partisans up by his headquarters which is going to make air support dicey.”

“Dug in tanks are going to lack mobility,” Kaitlyn considered. “Especially in a city. What if we start with some of our faster elements, like jump-capable BattleMechs, to try and break them up a bit?” Leon Mackinaw’s recon lance was immediately coming to mind, as well as one of the Star’s lances, led by Jakub Day. “That could force them out of cover or distract them before we move heavier elements in.”

Another thought crossed her mind. “I could have Captain Snegwort rush his units in and drop off my Battle Armor teams as well.” In a densely packed urban environment, Battle Armor could use the cover to their advantage and wreak havoc on tanks. “It is risky, but I think that could help us a lot.”

She handed the binoculars back to Lana and then adjusted her scarf. “Maybe have him come down from the hills through the lighter outer suburban area, then drop off the Battle Armor and pull back before engaging with the tanks.”
Lana nodded in earnest. “This sort of environment definitely favours Battle Armour, and we’be got reason to believe the enemy doesn’t have any of their own. Even if they don’t do significant damage to Mandragov’s armour, they can disrupt and confuse them.” She looked out over the city to where Kaitlynn indicated. “I can deploy my Battle Armour forces alongside yours, then spread them out from there.”

“That makes sense to me,” Kait nodded. “I only have a single platoon of my own, but I think this will work.”

“Once we’ve broken up their armour, we should get a clear shot to that Partisan lance. Take them out, and we can bring in our fighters.” While Mandragov’s supplier had bulked out his BattleMech and conventional armour forces, they had seen little sign of air superiority from the warlord. Lana had been itching to make use of their units’ combined aerospace assets, but so far the degree that Mandragov had scattered his forces made that impractical.

“Agreed. I can roll in my own fighters as well and break up whatever Mandragov has in reserve near the capitol. We’re going to need it too, since that’s going to probably have his heaviest hitters.”

By the time Kaitlyn had finished, Lana was grinning from ear to ear. “I like it. Let’s run it by our officers and map it out. Pick out your strike team. I have a good idea of who I’m using.”

—--

It had become their ritual. Jakub was surprised to find himself using the word so easily, but there was no other way to describe it. He sat next to Iulia Dragan, eyes closed in silent contemplation, as the aroma of Iulia’s mixture wafted over the pair of them. He was never sure if it was something in the plants she burned, the time spent in forced relaxation or just the act itself, but at least some part of this ritual calmed his nerves before a battle.

And he knew that today he would need it.

His eyes fluttered open, and he looked over to his friend. Iulia peered at him in her own unique way, understanding without judgment.

“You are nervous,” she stated more than asked.

“Not really,” he found himself saying, quite to his surprise. “I’ve got a big role to play today, but I’m pretty sure my lance can handle it. I’m really eager to work with the Iron Knights’ strike team, though.”

“I am sure you will do well,” she replied as she took a deep breath. “You are a capable MechWarrior. I have seen that already.”

“I’m more concerned about everyone else,” Jakub replied. About you, he added, but not out loud. “The main forces are going to be taking the brunt of the firepower for us to pull this off. It’s… I know there’s going to be casualties.”

“It is always a risk, and a part of what we do,” she nodded. “We have to accept it, but we can also do what we can to prepare ourselves.” She indicated to the burning mixture. “A part of this is an offering to my own spirit, so that it will guide my hand and eye, but also protect me in return.”

“Keep her safe,” Jakub said quietly to himself.

As the pair peeled off, Jakub spotted Iulia’s Marauder in amongst the Iron Knights’ BattleMechs. While both mercenary units had repainted their equipment in camouflage appropriate to the terrain, the Marauder stood out in its distinctive red and black scheme.

“Sorry to pry, but… I’ve heard some of your staff calling your ‘Mech by its own name. Fantoma Rosie?“ He looked at Iulia. “I was wondering why you call it that.”

“Red Ghost,” she replied. “Because that is what my mother called it, and her mother before her.”

“There’s a few ‘Mechs around the unit with their own name. Mine’s called Princess, for some reason.”

“Princess...” Iulia mused, and then smiled a little. “Interesting”

Jakub gave an awkward shrug. “I don’t really know why it’s called that, but is had the name for as long as its been with the unit. Maybe longer.”

“Your ‘Mech bears that name, and yet it is also my title,” she explained. “You and I, we work together on this to prepare ourselves and our friends for this battle. Maybe it was not chance, then that we came together like this. Yes, I think that this was deliberate, an act of fate.” She nodded. “The universe moves in mysterious ways, and everything happens for a reason. Like...” She cut herself off. “But I think that yes, we are meant to work together.”

“You don’t…” Jakub faltered, nervous. Iulia watched him for a moment, silent but somehow encouraging. “It’s just that, well you said Gilgamesh was cursed but… Is there an opposite?”

Iulia nodded. “Definitely,” she replied without a moment’s hesitation.

—--

In a quiet corner of the forward field base, Kaitlyn had just gotten up from her own prayers when she heard the footsteps behind her. Sighing, she turned around to see the figure there that she had expected, her second and friend, Iulia Dragan. However, the look on Iulia’s face immediately told her that something was amiss. “What is it?” she asked, getting straight to the point.

Iulia stepped closer, her voice low. “I did not want to tell Day or any of the others, but there is something you need to know about Mandragov.”

Kaitlyn immediately glanced around, making sure the pair of them were alone. “Go on.”

“I was reading into his past,” she continued. “How he survived for so long against the Falcons, and how that may influence what is to come.”

“And what did you find?” Kait had every reason to trust her friend’s insights, so if she seemed concerned then her reasoning was likely sound.

“I think that he is using death magic.”

Kaitlyn blinked for a moment as she tried to process the assessment. “And I will assume that based on the name alone that is a bad thing.”

“Yes,” she nodded. “Death magic makes its user powerful by drawing on the sacrifices of others. Mandragov has survived for so long because he has had other people to die for him; their deaths sate the spirit he has bargained with, who then gives him the power he needs.”

“I see,” Kait considered. “And this will make him hard to defeat.”

“Yes. Death magic is powerful, but it comes with a terrible price. Mandragov will be a deadly opponent, but ultimately, he will fall.”

“He’ll fight to the death and try to take as many of us down with him as he can.”

“Well that sounds bad.” The pair of them turned to see Leon Mackinaw standing nearby. “Didn’t mean to snoop, Major, but I couldn’t help but overhear the rosy news.”

“Well that should not bother you,” Iulia replied, her eyes narrowing.

“Look, I admit that I have been… less then entirely respectful,” he spoke up. “And I apologize if I offended you. It’s, well, it’s my background and personal experiences speaking here.”

Kaitlyn gave a small nod, remembering when Iulia had first tried to explain how her magic worked. “It is a lot to take in.”

“It is and, well,” he took a deep breath. “The truth is, I actually deeply appreciate your insights, Lady Dragan. I might not be the best at expressing it, but I do mean it.”

“I… understand,” Iulia nodded. “And I can tell you are sincere too.”

“So,” he nodded. “Death magic. How do you fight that?”

-----

“Everyone ready?” Lana called out as she strode between her unit’s BattleMech’s. Asa and Peyton quickly fell into step behind her. Off to one side, she noticed Andreas and Rochelle sharing a quick kiss before the Battle Armour commander peeled off to her own unit. Lana couldn’t help but smile as Andreas rejoined the command lance.

“I think we’re ready,” Katarina said, pulling up alongside her as they headed out. “We’ve got a solid plan, a good estimate of the enemy and reliable allies.”
“Go on,” Lana said with a smirk.

“Go on what?” Katarina asked.

“Admit this has worked out.”

Katarina gave a theatrical sigh. “You sent us running blind into a dangerous situation beyond the scope of our contract that has only worked out because we happened to run into a friendly mercenary unit that shared our goals.”
“But you just said it worked out,” Lana replied.

The pair of them stopped at the foot of Gilgamesh, Lana’s Battlemaster. Katarina gave a quick glance up at the towering assault ‘Mech before looking back to her commander. “Fine, yes. Given all that… It’s worked out.”

Lana’s only response was to smile at her friend, and Katarina shook her head in dismay. “One more battle and we’re done,” Lana finally said.

A thousand possible retorts came to Katarina’s mind. Instead she looked at her commander’s earnest face and simply saluted. Lana returned the same snappy salute, and the pair turned to their own BattleMechs.

—--

[Deadborder]

Leon Mackinaw’s Phoenix Hawk soared over the maze of pipes and industrial buildings below him as shots went off around him. Landing the forty-five ton machine as gracefully as he could, he quickly squeezed off a trio of shots at a Vedette tank that was trying to bring its turret to bear on him. His PPC smashed through its armor, with the two medium lasers adding to the carnage as they sliced into its tracks.

The damaged tank tried its best to wheel around, even as it became clear that its mobility had been compromised. A burst from its autocannon clipped the Phoenix Hawk’s leg, shaking him but doing little to actually hurt him. Before it could fire again, he took off once more, moving around the facility to break line of sight and force the enemy tanks to chase him.

He could see that the rest of his lance were doing the same, vaulting between buildings while making hit and run attacks on the enemy armor. They were massively out-gunned by the tanks they were up against, but the point was not to stand and fight. Rather, they were doing their best to confuse and disrupt their opponents and break up their formation. The ECM suite carried by his Phoenix Hawk was only adding to that effort by jamming the enemy communications, reducing their ability to effectively communicate and coordinate.

Another burst of autocannon fire went past his ‘Mech, grabbing his attention. Leon came down in a courtyard, pivoting towards the source of the attack as he did. A Patton tank lumbered forwards out of cover, bringing its turret around to bear on him again. He didn’t give it the chance, ducking to one side as he opened up on the heavy vehicle with his own weapons.

The PPC and lasers lashed into the turret, smashing through the armor, sending debris flying. Something must have fouled the rotator, as the turret abruptly stopped moving, locking into place. The Patton’s crew clearly were aware of the problem as they tried their best to move the lumbering tank to face him. However, just as abruptly, they stopped.

A glance at his tactical display told him why. “Daggers three and four, look out!” He shouted over the command channel.

Sterling Bogerman’s Spider and Bob Wash’s Wasp both leaped over a building towards the courtyard, and right into the Patton’s line of fire. At the last minute, the Spider twisted in mid-air, jinking out of the line of fire. The Wasp was less fortunate, with a stream of autocannon shells tearing its left leg in half. Deprived of control, the Wasp crashed into the wall of a building before slamming into the concrete.

“Bob!” Sterling called out over the command channel, a note of urgency in his voice.

The Patton turned again to face the downed Wasp, with Leon quickly adjusting to track it. Both he and Sterling opened fire, their weapons slamming into the rear of the tank and hungrily eating through its armor. There was a momentary pause before an explosion tore through the tank, flames pouring out of the rents in its armor.

“I’m okay,” Bob’s voice came over the command channel. “Hurt like hell, but I’m okay.” He had bought his Wasp to a sitting position, propped up on the stump of its leg.

“You sure, buddy?” Sterling asked.

“I’ll be fine,” he managed. “You guys get going. You have a battle to win.”

—--

Andreas didn’t like this part of the plan. It wasn’t that the command lance was serving as a glorified distraction that bothered him. It’s that the plan called for close in urban fighting, which his Crusader was direfully ill-equipped for. For the moment, the Star’s command lance was picking their way along the massive container docks at Tirana’s far edge. Lana had made sure the enemy had spotted her Battlemaster early on, to better draw them away.

For now it seemed to be working. While they had kept ahead of the enemy forces, he also knew that wouldn’t last. Even as the thought crossed his mind, his radar pinged with sudden contacts. A pair of Galleon light tanks sped out from between massive warehouses, bisecting the command lance. The pair split up, one wheeling at Andreas and Asa’s Marauder. Both tried to track the light tank as it scurried between containers, but neither was able to get a solid lock. The Galleon rounded a corner at point-blank range with the Asa’s ‘Mech. Its front blossomed open and it disgorged a swarm of rockets into the Marauder’s underside. Andreas could swear he saw the heavy ‘Mech lift into the air from the countless detonations before it pitched backwards and vanished into the lake.

Andreas swore and opened fire. Lasers and machine guns from his Crusader’s arms traced across the Galleon as it shifted into reverse. Spent, the light lank beat a hasty retreat, only to be replaced by a much bigger threat. A Bulldog tank trundled into view, angling its turret at him. Andreas broke off his pursuit, rapidly backpedaling away. Before he could find cover, the tank opened fire. A crackling burst of blue lightning spat from the turret, rocking his ‘Mech with the impact. It followed up with its missile launchers, peppering impacts all across the Crusader's body.

He struggled to return fire. The Bulldog was just too close for his long-range missiles to be effective, and the streak launchers at his hips refused to find a targeting solution. His lasers and machine guns found their mark, but they barely scored the Bulldog’s dense armour. They exchanged fire as he circled around it, trying to gain range on the tank. The massive cranes around the dock absorbed much of the Bulldog’s missiles, but it’s particle cannon struck home again, staggering Andreas in place.

Suddenly the water behind the Bulldog erupted in a massive spray. The pockmarked form of Asa’s Marauder emerged from the harbour. Still standing waist-deep, it brought its heavy particle cannons to bear on the tank’s rear. Blinding blue lances of energy struck out, cutting deep into the Bulldog’s poorly protected back. At the same time, Andreas finally scored a lock from his streak missiles. He opened fire, sending impacts all across the Bulldog’s front. Two flights of missiles from Asa’s Marauder also tore into its back. A massive detonation blew out of the tank’s shattered rear, and the thing went still.

“You alright?” Andreas asked, looking over the battered Marauder.

“Yeah…” Asa replied, between gasps for breath. “I really hate city fighting.”

“Tell me about it,” came Andreas’ response, before the two turned to rejoin their lance.

—--

Rochelle’s Battle Armour squad jetted from rooftop to rooftop, bounding between the array of pipes, scaffolding and walkways that dominated Tirana’s skyline. All around them, the squad could see the Iron Knights’ various Battle Armours dispersing throughout the city. Rochelle had been working closely with her opposite number from the other mercenary unit. In particular, they’d pored over maps of the city together before the assault, looking for vulnerabilities.

Her squad rapidly approached their target. A Myrmidon tank and a Sheriff IFV had parked themselves at the top on an incline, between two towering industrial blocks giving them a commanding view down the broad approaching road. Rochelle’s squad came to a rest atop one of the plants, effectively hidden amongst the industrial equipment that jutted out of the building. From their vantage point, they could see a pair of Eye company’s BattleMechs, a Griffin and a Dervish moving to advance on their position.

What the ‘Mechs couldn’t see was Mandragov’s armour forces repositioning. A collection of medium and heavy tanks were maneuvering behind the industrial blocks, and would soon be able to bring withering fire down on anyone approaching.

“What’s the play, boss?” her second asked.

Rochelle paused a moment as she checked the situation. A heavy walkway stretched between the upper floors of the two plants. “Arm your satchel charges and set them on the supports,” she ordered her squad. It took a moment for them to fill in the details of the plan, but she was soon met with a round of confirmations.

The squad jetted into action, splitting up either side of the walkway. Rochelle headed for the far end, and clamped onto the support struts underneath it. Below her, the Myrmidon and Sheriff were firing downrange at the approaching BattleMechs. Volleys of long-range missiles roared their way uphill in response. They roared beneath the walkway, impacting the two tanks. Rochelle could feel the force of the explosions from above, and tightened her grip on the supports.

The Sheriff trundled backwards in response to the returning fire. Its change in perspective must have let it spot the squad, as its turret mounted autocannons angled upwards. Rochelle reached for the satchel charge and armed it. The autocannons on the Sheriff barked, spraying munitions across the walkway. She recoiled in pain as shells impacted across her back and the satchel charge slipped from her grasp. Her Battle Armour suit lunged down and barely caught it by a trailing strap.

Her squad responded with a spray of machinegun fire down at the Sheriff. “Dont’ worry about me. Get those charges set!” Rochelle slung the satchel upwards, tangling it in the walkway’s supports. Around her, she saw jet plumes from her squadmates as they launched away from the walkway. Rochelle detached her magnetic clamps and boosted away, keeping ahead of the Sheriff’s fire.

She triggered the charges. A quartet of well-placed explosions removed the walkway’s supports. There was a groan of twisting metal and tearing structure as its own weight did the remaining work. The Myrmidon must have realised what was happening at the last minute, since it began to roll backwards. However it was too late. The walkway tore itself loose and toppled down between the buildings, tearing into their sides. The mangled arc of metal slammed into the road, blocking it off and trapping the Myrmidon beneath it.

Rochelle’s squad landed on the far roof. She could see the results of their handiwork already. The approaching tanks ground to a halt, then began to shuffle among themselves, trying to sort out new paths and approaches. The Dervish and Griffin easily jetted over the obstruction and made short work of the remaining Sheriff. Aside from her own suit, the squad remained undamaged.

“Nice work,” she said. “But we’ve got a lot more ahead of us.”

—--

The Battlemaster was designed for this duty. Data from all over the battle, both from the Star of Sumer and Iron Knights’ units was being fed into its advanced battle computer and presented on a tactical display. Lana Kotovski could see Mandragov’s forces repositioning throughout the city, being slowed and harrassed by the combined mercenary units. Their diversions had worked perfectly.

She double-checked the monitor to confirm. Strikes on their flanks had drawn out much of the heavy armour within the center of Tirana. The way through was now vulnerable.

Lana keyed over her comm system to reach all members of their combined forces. “The enemy forces are broken up. Our plan proceeds.”

—--

“Strike teams, path is clear. Take out those Partisans.” Lana’s voice rang out clearly in Jakub’s cockpit. This was the move they’d been waiting for.

“Comet recon, up the middle!” He ordered. He hit the Shadow Hawk’s jump jets and rocketed above the cluttered industrial buildings around them. He could see the three other ‘Mechs of his lance shooting into the air around him. They arced towards the center of Tirana, where a broad road led up to the capitol district. The four BattleMechs hit the road running, bearing straight through the middle of the city.

Here and there the road was pockmarked with makeshift emplacements, signs of the defenders who had been called away to assault on other parts of the city. Kaitlyn and Lana’s plan had worked, giving them a clean run at the air defenses. Or at least, mostly clean. Missiles arced down from a nearby rooftop where infantry lay in wait. They scored across the side of Jakub’s ‘Mech, staggering him as he ran. He adjusted the controls and kept the Shadow Hawk on its feet, barely missing a step.

Before he could respond, a brilliant laser lanced through the air, searing into the infantry’s emplacement. Leon Mackinaw’s Pheonix Hawk jetted into view, bringing more fire to bear on the rooftop. His own lance followed swiftly behind, adding their own fire to the dug-in defenses. Even though it was clear that they were missing a ‘Mech, the rest of the lance were moving quickly and efficiently, doing what they could to suppress their opponents and clear the way.

Soon the Partisan tanks were in range. The assembled ‘Mechs fired as they ran, sending laser, particle, autocannon and missile fire straight ahead into the stationary tanks. They Partisans returned fire, spraying the advancing BattleMechs with clusters from their powerful autocannons. As they closed, Jakub fired a volley from his Shadow Hawk’s shoulder-mounted missile launcher. The missiles burst in front of the Partisan tanks, filling the air with thick black smoke and obscuring the two lances from view.

As one, his lance jetted into the air. They came down, spread amongst the emplaced heavy tanks. A smattering of fire from infantry on the ground greeted them, but Rowan’s Firestarter quickly silenced them. The ‘Mechs under his command struck out at point-blank range, eating into the vulnerable air-defense tanks. Mackinaw’s lance followed suit, and Jakub saw a dazzling array of laser fire cut through the Partisans. Leon discharged his particle cannon into one of the tanks’ turrets at point-blank range, consuming it in a dazzling discharge of blue-white lightning.

In moments, it was over. The quartet of Partisan tanks were scattered around them, destroyed or disabled. Already Mandragov’s forces were rallying to the square. The Shadow Hawk turned to Mackinaw’s Phoenix Hawk, almost as if it were the two BattleMechs acknowledging each other’s work rather than the pilots. In one motion, the two lances took to the sky, jetting away from the scene. “Skies are clear,” Jakub reported, but smiled when he was proven wrong. Already, he could see their combined air wings soaring in for the kill.

—--

[Deadborder]

When Dimitri Mandragov had received his first shipment of BattleMechs from his mysterious backer, he had handed them out to those that had been with him the longest. Many of those, such as Sayyid, had been resistance fighters during the Clan occupation of the world. He chose them not because they were the most skilled or experienced, but because they were people that he knew he could trust, and who would not let their own ambitions over-ride their loyalty.

As his army had expanded, he had maintained that core group, transforming it into a personal guard unit. Their position was as much a reward as anything else, ensuring that they would have the power and prestige that came with being MechWarriors, while for the most part not risking themselves in actual combat. On those occasions where they had engaged with enemy forces, they had been an overwhelming force that crushed their enemies.

And that was what Mandragov was hoping they would be today.

He sat in the cockpit of his Titan, watching the battle unfold on his tactical display. “Enemy forces have broken through the hills district blockade,” a voice came over the communicator, crackling with static. “We’re trying to regroup.”

A look at the map told him all that he needed to know. The mercenaries would be headed for the central district, aiming to eliminate him and his followers and end his reign, just a he had expected. The forces he had put in their way might have slowed them, but had not stopped them or inflicted enough losses to give them pause.

He glanced to one side at Sayyid’s War Dog for a moment. It was gathered there with the other BattleMechs of his personal unit, some of the heaviest and most powerful that his backers had supplied him with. A smattering of tanks and infantry rounded out their force. And even if we defeat them, there is still the other force coming from the east, he considered. But we do not have any choice.

“All units, this is Mandragov,” he ordered over the command channel. “Move out.”

-----

Lieutenant Washington had given a report of the enemy forces in the center of Tirana as she’d come off her strike. While she could have done more, the damage to her fighter was enough for Kaitlyn to over-ride her and order her to break off the attack. The information that she’d provided had been helpful no less, painting a very clear picture of what Mandragov had left in reserve.

It was just what they had expected; a block of heavy BattleMechs with accompanying tanks, holding the center of the city. Perhaps Mandragov was hoping to defeat the forces thrown against him, buying time before the Esteros Assembly could throw more mercenaries at him. Or perhaps, as Iulia had suggested, he was making a last stand, determined to take as many of his enemies with him as possible as a part of an elaborate death ritual.

Either way, she knew that they had to stop him here.

Having used their lighter elements to open a hole in the enemy perimeter, the next stage of the plan was simple. The Iron Knights and Star of Sumer would simply advance with their heaviest assets and bring the sheer wall of firepower available to them to bear. Mandragov’s remaining forces included his most powerful BattleMechs, but she was confident that they had enough to defeat him through sheer brute force if nothing else.

Her tactical display began lighting up with contacts as she advanced into the city. Ahead she could see the central district, its buildings already scarred with weapons fire, and now crawling with enemy forces. “This is Knight Lead to all units,” she called out over her command channel, her voice crisp and clear. “Pick targets and engage at will.”

As she spoke, she dropped her sights onto an enemy Griffin that had been leading an advance. As soon as her reticle flashed in range, she thumbed the trigger to unleash her dual Extended Range PPCs. The heat from the weapons washed into the cockpit as they unleashed their hellish energies, sending twin bolts of searing blue lighting towards the enemy ‘Mech. The shots slammed into the torso, sending it staggering back, its LRM launcher already reduced to wreckage.

Around her the other Iron Knights did the same, a hail of laser, PPC and autocannon fire reaching out to find their targets, while long-range missiles soared overhead. Their opponents did the same, with the wounded Griffin managing to snap off a shot with its own PPC that hit the Warhammer’s left leg. The shot failed to penetrate the thick armor, and did little more than give her a moment’s pause.

Perhaps realizing just how out-matched it was, the Griffin leaped backwards away from her, seeking its own cover. Even as it did, a Thanatos pushed forwards to take its place, its PPC unleashing a storm of energy. The shot smashed into the side of a building, blasting it apart and sending chunks of concrete flying. As the enemy ‘Mech readjusted for another shot, it was hit by a pair of PPC blasts from Iulia’s Marauder, searing armor from its broad chest.

A quick glance at her display told Kaitlyn that her forces were already enmeshed with the enemy. “Keep going!” She called out as she twisted her torso to track the Thanatos. “And do not let up!”

—--

It had been a long winding path, but Lana had led her command lance into the forefront of the battle. The capitol district lay open to them, and with it came Mandragov’s staunchest defenders. The battle had already been joined by the time she arrived. to her left, she could see Kaitlyn’s own command elements engaging Mandragov’s BattleMechs. Before she could turn to assist, her own unit came under fire.

The quadrupedal form of a Barghest advanced on her lance. Its massive autocannon erupted with fire, targeting the Marauder at her side. Asa’s ‘Mech was slammed by a hail of shells and stumbled, collapsing forward. A moment later she saw the cockpit blow open and her lancemate eject, soaring into the sky just before the Barghest’s particle cannon ate further into her downed ‘Mech.

“Asa, report!” Lana barked out as her lance angled to fire on the Quad ‘Mech. Her own particle cannons joined Peyton’s gauss rifle, but the Barghest was too well ensconced among the capitol’s towers. Andreas’ missiles fared better, raining detonations across its body.

A crackling confirmation came from her ejected pilot, injured but alive and most importantly safe from the batte. Before Lana could respond, the nimble form of a Starslayer jetted in amongst them. It fired its oversized particle cannon as it descended, splashing artificial lightning across the Gallowglas’s chest. As soon as it touched down, it aimed a vicious kick at the Crusader, leaving the heavier ‘Mech staggering backwards.

The command lance seemed to balk at the intruder among them as they turned to bring their weapons to bear. “Stick together, don’t let him-” Lana began, but was interrupted by the Barghest’s fire. She yanked her stick to the side, angling the ‘Mech’s torso to take the brunt of the fire on its left side. The autocannon raked down the Battlemaster’s arm, mangling it but leaving her ‘Mech otherwise intact.

A pair of particle cannons shot out of nowhere to impact into the Barghest’s side. Lana glanced aside to see Katarina’s Warhammer striding purposefully onto the field, trailed by her own lance. The Barghest began to withdraw, but Lana brought her own weapons to bare on it as well.

“Sorry I’m late,” Katarina said.

“I’d say you were right on time,” Lana replied. She triggered a full fusilade of Gilgamesh’s particle cannons. Heat flooded her cockpit but she shook it off, satisfied to see one of the Barghest’s legs buckle under the assault.

To her side, the Starslayer seemed to think better of its interference run. It swiftly launched into the air, bounding above a barrage of retaliatory fire. Andreas’ Crusader locked on to the rapidly departing ‘Mech and fired a volley of streak missiles from its hips. They arced upwards and drove into the retreating BattleMech’s rear. Impacts shook across its body, tossing the Starslayer around in midair. The BattleMech’s graceful arc turned into a face-first plummet, and it crashed out of sight.

As one, the two lances turned to bring their fire onto the limping Barghest. Its cannons barked out one last time, cutting into a Rifleman at Katarina’s side. A torrent of cannon, missile, laser and particle fire all crashed down upon quad ‘Mech, which quickly collapsed under the sheer weight of the assault.

“Alright,” Lana began, panting slightly from the pressing heat in her cockpit. “We link up with Faris’ command element. Cover each other as we advance. We win this thing together.”

—--

On his display, Mandragov could already see how the battle was going to end. His forces were doing the best to hold the center of Tirana, but the attackers were proving to be far more determined and capable than they had hoped for. Persistence, aggression and sheer firepower had done more for them than his forces could resist. One by one, the icons representing his own forces were winking out, while those of the enemy seemed to be endless.

But he was not about to give up the fight that easily.

His Titan pushed forwards, the massive war machine striding through the rubble-choked streets that had once been the center of the city. His city. Other members of his command force were with him, forming a wall of fire that aimed to push back the oncoming tide, if only by sheer force of will. Surrender was not an option; he had no doubt of what the Esteros Assembly had planned for him. They might dress it up as justice or a move aimed at reunifying the planet, but he knew that they needed to make an example of him.

And so they would fight until the end. And, if nothing else, he was going to ensure that he would make them pay for every inch they advanced in blood.

An enemy Griffin bounded forwards, trying to sneak past his force and strike at their flank. Its PPC and missiles lashed out, striking at the Crossbow on his side. The shots caused the heavy ‘Mech to miss a beat before replying with its own laser and missile fire, scoring hits on the Griffin’s flank. While the enemy ‘Mech was damaged, it continued to move, trying its best to make its way around the edge of the formation and continue to press its attack.

Without a word, Madragov pivoted the Titan’s torso to track the enemy BattleMech, keeping it firmly within his sights. He opened up with its twin particle cannons, ignoring for the moment the wave of heat that washed into the cockpit as he did. The shots had a measured effect, smashing into the Griffin’s side, sending chunks of armor and structure flying and leaving the enemy BattleMech reeling. It staggered and began to backpedal; not out of the fight, but it’s MechWarrior clearly reconsidering their plan.

A rain of long-range missiles scattered among his formation, with the Crossbow taking the worst of it. The barrel-armed ‘Mech staggered back, one of its arms knocked askew and a clear crack across its canopy. As it tried to regain its footing, a Thunderbolt pushed forward, taking advantage of the distraction caused by the combination of the missile fire and the Griffin’s attack. Its weapons fire raked the already-damaged Crossbow, tearing through its depleted armor to strike at the systems within. The ‘Mech collapsed under the assault, crashing to the pavement.

Mandragov didn’t spare the fallen a second thought, instead bearing down on the Thunderbolt as it tried to duck back. He didn’t give it a chance, instead opening up with the Titan’s secondary arsenal in a vicious assault of lasers and short-ranged missiles that shrouded the blocky BattleMech in a halo of explosions. With one arm destroyed and much of its flank reduced to smoking wreckage, the Thunderbolt staggered back in an effort to break out of the line of fire and avoid another assault.

More missiles came in, mostly hitting Sayyid’s War Dog. His sensors spotted the source of the attack, a Catapult that was backing up the Thunderbolt. The pair of them replied to it, with his PPC fire joining her Gauss Rifle to strike at the heavy BattleMech. The armless heavy ‘Mech reeled under the attack, but remained standing for the moment, having managed to weather the assault. None the less it pulled back along with its compatriot, clearly not wanting to risk another volley.

“They’re baiting us,” Sayyid commented.

“Agreed,” he replied. “Don’t let them lure you in. Stand your ground, make them come to us,” he ordered, his tone leaden. “They are mercenaries; they will cut and run when this gets too expensive for them.”

Deep down he was wondering about that last part. Even though it was what he would have expected, there was something about these mercenaries that bothered him. The two separate forces had been willing to work together, to share salvage and coordinate to destroy his forces. They seemed to have been driven by a desire to complete a thorough job, not just to simply do what was expedient and would fulfil their contract. It was especially concerning given that according to his sources, one of those units had been hired by an off-world power.

It was something that he would have to look into if he survived today.

Shots from the Griffin hit the side of Sayyid’s ‘Mech, bothering its thick armor but not stopping it by any means. She turned to reply, unleashing her own weapons in reply. While the Gauss rifle went wide, darts of green laser fire danced across the Griffin’s chest and did enough to stop the pilot from becoming too confident in their continued attack. A smattering of missiles and laser fire joined the attack, as the Crossbow’s MechWarrior bought their machine back to its feet.

He snapped off a pair of PPC shots at the Catapult that smashed into the BattleMech’s leg, causing it to stumble under the assault. The wounded Thunderbolt stepped forward to protect its college, opening up with its weapons. More shots scored into Sayyid’s armor, scoring into it, but leaving it still standing. That was enough to make him glance at his own damage display, a quick inspection telling him that he was still nearly pristine despite all the fighting around him.

As the wounded Griffin leaped away, more contacts appeared on his display, all in a glaring red that made it clear that they were hostile. A part of him knew that his plan had worked; he was luring out the enemy to face him and what remained of his force directly. And the other part knew that he was now facing their biggest guns, the ones that could bring the most firepower to bear.

One of them made that much apparent as it stepped forward. A blocky Warhammer IIC opened fire with its twin particle cannons, unleashing a storm of artificial lightning towards his force. The two shots slammed into the damaged Crossbow, drilling through the depleted armor in its chest. The beams tore through its body, excess energies leaking out the back of its ruined structure before the heavy BattleMech simply crashed to the ground. Even though he couldn’t see its damage display, Madragov already knew that this time it would not get up.

Emboldened by the hit, the other enemy BattleMechs pushed forwards, despite the damage they had taken. The Thunderbolt and Catapult contributed their own missile and laser fire, lashing those ‘Mechs around his own. He responded in kind, PPC and laser fire streaking back towards the enemy machines, his determination to end their threat more than enough to allow him to ignore the heat washing into the cockpit. This time his shots made their mark, one of the PPCs burning through the Catapult’s wounded leg and snapping it in half. The enemy ‘Mech crashed backwards into the rubble, the Thunderbolt moving to cover it.

For its efforts, the Thunderbolt received a shot to the chest from Sayyid’s Gauss Rifle that crushed most of the remaining armor. It staggered back, but remained standing over its downed colleague as it returned fire, its depleted arsenal not doing much to stop her. Behind it, a Marauder stepped forward to support the pair of them. Unlike the other ‘Mechs who were wearing a functional camouflage scheme, the newcomer sported a distinctive red and black striped pattern.

The Marauder opened fire with its own twin PPCs, the weapons lashing out. One of them narrowly failed to make its mark. The other went straight into the cockpit of Sayyid’s War Dog, drilling through it and killing its pilot in an instant. Deprived of control, the heavy BattleMech crashed to the ground at his feet.

That gave him pause. Not for the death of his loyal second who’d had his back for a decade. Rather it was the realization that had the shot gone a little higher, it would have gone into his cockpit instead.

More fire from the Warhammer IIC grabbed his attention. One of its PPCs smashed into the arm of his Titan and the other into a leg, smashing into the thick armor but not penetrating it. The impact shook the massive assault ‘Mech, but he barely felt it. Instead, he turned to focus on his attacker. Clan-made assault ‘Mech, he considered, recognising the design as one that had been deployed by the Falcons during the occupation of the world. That has to be one of their leaders. Eliminate them and I weaken their resolve.

He opened up the throttle, the Titan bearing down on the enemy assault ‘Mech. Then, at the last moment, he fired its jump jets. The cockpit shook as a hundred tons of BattleMech took to the air on pillars of flame, leaping over a half-collapsed building to move into the Warhammer’s flank. It was a risky move, but he figured that the enemy wouldn’t expect it, giving him a chance to close down the range and bring his arsenal to bear.

And as he dropped his sights onto the Warhammer and opened fire, it replied in kind. The ‘Mech leaped backwards, his missiles tearing though the space that it had occupied a moment before. At the same time, he became abundantly, painfully aware of the ring of red icons around him on the display.

—--

[Deadborder]

Years of experience had taught Kaitlyn to respect Iulia’s insights; even if they did seem strange at times. But even then she had been surprised by just how her assessment of Mandragov had proved correct. The PPC shot that had felled the War Dog should have, by all rights, gone through the cockpit of his Titan instead.

That was why she had put herself on the line, using herself as bait. She figured that he would see her as being important due to the ‘Mech that she was piloting, and come after her. She had also hoped that he would not know about her own jump jets, and not been ready for what she was going to do next.

As the Warhammer IIC came down from its jump, she opened fire on his Titan. Her particle cannons led the assault, smashing into the monolithic BattleMech’s armor, actually forcing it to take a step backwards. Two pulse lasers followed up, stitching lines across its body. On her display, Kaitlyn could see that the Titan was already burning hot, the result of its prior unsuccessful assault. Hopefully that would limit his response.

Instead he opened up with a barrage of lasers, following through with missiles. Shots scored armor from the Warhammer’s hull, while impacts rocked the eighty-ton machine. As she was shaken in the cockpit, Kaitlyn kept one eye on her damage display, seeing that her own armor had held under the assault. Gritting her teeth, she thumbed the trigger again, opening fire in reply as she tried to ignore the combination of damage and the heat in the cockpit.

One of her PPCs smashed into the already damaged arm, blasting it off at the elbow, while the other hammered into the Titan’s side, failing to penetrate the armor. Her pulse lasers added more damage to the assault, but nothing nearly as dramatic. Despite the assault, the Titan remained standing; even as it was burning hot on her tactical display, it seemed to be continuing to fight on regardless of the damage and heat it was struggling under.

Once again Iulia’s words came to mind. A bargain with death. He’s sacrificed literally everything to it. She glanced at her display as she backed her Warhammer up, trying to use what range she could get. But I have my own allies.

They both fired again. Even struggling against his own heat and damage, Mandragov continued to push his ‘Mech as far as he could. More shots rocked the Warhammer IIC, smashing armor and rocking the BattleMech. Red lights came on across Kaitlyn’s status board as several systems failed under the assault, heat sinks among them. At the same time, she let fly with her own weapons, the PPCs lashing the Titan, while pulse lasers followed through to further savage the armor. A flight of short-range missiles added to the carnage, but yet the Titan remained standing.

Another pair of PPCs smashed into the Titan, one of them burrowing through the side of its chest to incinerate the missile launcher within. A cluster of autocannon pellets added to the damage, further worrying its systems. Glancing to her side, Kaitlyn could see Iulia’s Marauder advancing on her flank, its weapons directed at the Titan.

“Surrender!” She called out over her loudspeakers, her tone blunt. “We don’t need to end it like this!”

His reply was to open up again with what was left of his weaponry, even if the combination of the damage he had suffered and the massive heat burden that his ‘Mech was struggling under hampered its effectiveness. None the less, shots battered Kaitlyn’s Warhammer, eating though the already depleted armor to threaten its systems. Fighting against the controls, she managed to keep the BattleMech standing and pointed towards her opponent. That’s how it's going to be, she admitted to herself. He doesn’t want to surrender, just die. She glanced at the Marauder at her side before turning back to her opponent. You were right again.

Doing her best to manage her own heat, she replied with another volley of fire. This one had a dramatic effect as one of the PPCs ripped into the damaged side of the Titan, apparently setting off some of the remaining ammunition inside it. The flank of the ‘Mech erupted in flames, sending debris flying and staggering the huge war machine, and yet it managed to somehow remain standing through the assault. Iulia added her own fire, her PPCs and autocannon adding to the assault. And yet, it remained standing as if to defy her.

More PPC fire struck the Titan’s hulk, brilliant blue energies lashing the ‘Mech, bathing it in their power. Shots shredded what was left of the armor, then tore into its structure to devour whatever they could find, with weapons, heat sinks and even the remaining arm being destroyed in the barrage. Glancing around, Kaitlyn could see the source of the attacks; Lana’s BattleMaster and Katerina’s Warhammer, both advancing to join her.

In the center of her display stood the Titan, or at least what had once been it. The monolithic BattleMech had been reduced to a burning hulk, its shape barely recognisable, crowned with a mangled stump of a head. For a moment, it stood there, as if somehow defying them. Then it simply surrendered to the inevitable, crashing to the ground with an earth-shaking crash.

Kaitlyn let out a breath she didn’t even know that she was holding. “It’s over,” she managed, weariness coloring her tone. “Thanks.”

[Deadborder]

Guest chapter by Zogster

LIC Surveillance Log 546-267A

Captain Maeve Cullen: What are you doing up here? You should be celebrating.

Major Violetta Vujic: Celebrating what, exactly?

Cullen: How about our unbroken string of victories?

Vujic: Hmph. Yeah, sure.

Cullen: C-Bill for your thoughts.

Vujic: I’m worth more than that.

Cullen: Forget it.

[Silence]

Vujic: Sorry.

Cullen: Wow, she does have feelings.

Vujic: Don't push it.

Cullen: Okay, what’s really eating you? And don’t say it’s the contract, because lately its been a pushover.

Vujic: That’s just the problem, though. Demos sold this whole “Warlord Mandragov” exercise on the salvage. But all we’ve had lately are just minor skirmishes. We’re barely making back the ammo.

Cullen: What about the battle at Barandov?

Vujic: Well that’s the thing, isn’t it? Bloody Guise came out of that looking like the hero, so he jumps on all the salvage. Meanwhile we get bogged down with a bunch of heavy tanks and have nothing to show for it. I’ve barely got enough actuators left to get Jurgen’s Helios back up and running.

Cullen: That was just bad intel.

Vujic: Was it though? Because if you wanted to make the Reapers look bad, you couldn’t have done better.

Cullen: Okay, now you’re being paranoid. Besides, who would benefit from making us look bad in front of the Screaming Demons? Wait, no...

Vujic: Come on, even if it wasn’t intentional, he’s definitely taking advantage of it. You’ve seen how he’s been smooching up to Guise. He’s basically got that sleazebag convinced he’s in charge of the whole operation.

Cullen: Yeah, but that also means that Lewis is walking the Demons straight into enemy forces. At best, he’s going to take the brunt of it when the hammer falls.

Vujic: And at worst, he’s going to get all the glory and salvage.

Cullen: [Sigh] Well then, we’ve just got to show him what we’re really about. I’ve known you a while, but you’ve never been one to let some trumped up little weasel get the better of you.

Vujic: Are you talking about Lewis or Demos?

Cullen: Take your pick. So when we track down Mandragov’s forces, we take the lead and show everybody just what we’re made of.

[Pause]

Vujic: You give me so much s***, Maeve.

Cullen: It’s what I’m good at.

Vujic: But you’re right. We’ve got no reason to play second fiddle to Guise, Demos be damned.

Cullen: That’s the spirit.

Mechwarrior Jackson: Sorry to interrupt, Major –

Cullen: Aaah! Blake’s hairy tits, Jackson, don’t do that!
 
Jackson: - but Demos wants to see you.

Vujic: I’ll be down in a minute.

Cullen: You go. Give him what for.

Vujic: Yeah. Yeah I will. C’mere, you.

[Deadborder]

Guest chapter by KayEmm and Zogster

Fission Mucking Accomplished

Vadani Forest, Alwaid
Esteros

With the path clear to Tirana, the idea had been for the Red Reapers and Screaming Demons to advance overland to the capitol. While the going was slow, the vast Vadani forest provided cover, especially from a force that lacked aerospace support. After their victory in Barandov, they had faced only minor resistance on the road to Tirana. If all went well, they would assault Mandragov’s capitol with the element of surprise.

What they had not expected was to encounter a ragged column of troops fleeing from the capitol. Greene’s scout lance had come across a motley collection of battered tanks and tired soldiers. Rather than engage, Greene had let them blunder into the main column where almost two companies of BattleMechs were waiting for them. The remnant forces had quickly surrendered.

And so it was that Jackson stepped out of the back of the Reapers' mobile headquarters, where the impromptu leader of the warlord’s leftovers was being housed. Violetta Vujic and Lewis Guise both waited to hear what he had discovered. Jackson wiped his hands on a rag which came away red as he approached the pair. He came up short and saluted the pair.

“Mandragov is dead,” he declared bluntly. “Mercenaries hit Tirana and crushed his forces.”

Violetta felt the delight growing in her. She’d gotten tired of this world, tired of this campaign and its ever-growing scope, tired of the weasley man she’d been made to work with. But now it was all over. She felt like cheering, like laughing in someone’s face - maybe Guise, maybe Demos, their employer - but kept it in for now.

“Dispatch Yasir to confirm,” Violetta said. Without another word, Jackson turned and departed. She glanced to her now former partner Lewis. By now, she couldn’t contain her smile. “Quite the turn-up, huh?”

“It is a bit,” Lewis Guise replied, a confident look on his face. “I dare say that whoever these mercenaries are have done our job for us. And, you know, better that they suffer the casualties that come with it then we do,” he added, his confidence only growing. Even then, there was an ever so slight edge to his voice, like there was something else going on that he wasn’t talking about.

“What matters is it’s done,” Violetta said. “We were tasked to take out the warlord, and he’s dead. And if we didn’t have to expend our own men, then all the better.”

“That’s exactly my thought,” he agreed. “Major Vujvic, I have to admit that this has been a most profitable alliance, one that has benefitted both of us. And I think that we would both do well by continuing this alliance afterwards.”

“You mean keep working for the Malthus Confederation?” Violetta shot back, her smile turning into a knowing smirk. She watched Guise’s face for a moment gauging his response. “Oh, don’t be coy. I know you’ve been getting into Demos’ good books. I can respect that,” she finished with a nonchalant shrug, adding internally At least.

“Well, you know how it goes,” Guise replied, his tone clearly stumbling a little as if he had not expected to be called out on his ambitions. “We’re mercenaries, and we need to find paying work. If he’s going to potentially provide that, why shouldn’t I be friendly with him?” He was sounding a little defensive, but more importantly, it felt like he was trying not to reveal just how badly off his unit actually was. “After all, we have worked well together. This partnership has been good for both of us, and I see no reason why it shouldn’t continue.”

“It’s… not been what I expected.” She looked Guise up and down, as if appraising him for the first time. What she found however, she kept to herself. “Still, I won’t argue with the result. Now all we have to do is wait around for the jumpship.”

Viloetta spared him a crooked grin. “This deserves a celebration.”

—--

The news had spread through both units like wildfire, and it did indeed seem like a celebration was in order. An abandoned truck stop had been declared the site of the party, once it had been thoroughly looted for its remaining supplies. By the time night had fallen, a scattering of the two units’ BattleMechs stood in the truck lot, surrounding a bonfire. Some enterprising soldiers had strung up a banner declaring “Mission Accomplished” between the Gunslinger and the Archer.

Morale was higher than Maeve had seen in a long time. The ample supplies of junk food and alcohol they’d liberated certainly didn’t help. More than anything she noticed as she strolled among the revelers was that members of the two units were finally mingling. They’d kept their distance both on and off the field, but now she could see them partying together. She passed the two separate infantry commanders, each trying to outdrink the other; both somehow having somehow lost their shirts. Kavya, her Griffin pilot was carousing loudly with one of the Demons MechWarriors. Even Demos was getting into it, roasting some kind of aromatic concoction over the bonfire.

And then there was Karloff, the Miscellaneous Detachment’s Calliope pilot. Maeve pulled up short when she saw the scruffy man standing rock still, staring into the bonfire. “Someone’s got to be responsible,” she muttered to herself. She took Karloff by the shoulders and gently steered him away.

—--

If there was one person who didn’t seem to be feeling celebratory, it was Marko. He’d spent most of the party simply looming at its edge, slowly nursing a drink while watching everything unfold. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust the Red Reapers (well, maybe not as a whole, but definitely some of their members deserved a second look) but simply that he didn’t like them at all.

“What’s bugging you?” Greene interrupted his train of thought. The scarred recon lance commander was clearly already tipsy as he approached, a bottle in hand. “We won, right?”

“Sure,” Marko grunted out.

“So lighten up man,” he continued. “Enjoy the damn party. This has been a total turn around for us.”

“Yeah,” he took another sip of his drink.

“And I know things didn’t work out with Siggy, but look at how things have gone for us since,” he continued. “We’ve made off like bandits on the salvage already. And that Demos guy clearly likes us.”

“I suppose he does…” He continued, again not exactly committing to the idea.

A pair sauntered up to them. Jackson was immediately recognisable as Vujic’s eternal shadow. And while he stood straight and alert, the fair-haired man with him was all but draped on his side. Against all expectation, Jackson smiled and presented a deck of cards. “Care for a game?”

“Sure,” Greene beamed as he glanced around. Marko could see that there was an old barrel and several stools nearby that would serve as a table, and he’d definitely played cards in worse places.

“Why not?” Marko added as he joined them. Jackson was one of the people he didn’t like, but that was largely because he’d barely engaged with the man. Now he was seeing an opportunity.

“Jurgen,” the blond man said unprompted, leaning in to greet them. The smell of alcohol was clear on his breath. He glanced back to the towering man at his side, and indicated to him. “Jackson,” he added. A thought occurred to him and he said “Jackson and Jurgen,” running a finger between the pair. “Only our mother can tell us apart,” he added, before breaking out into a fit of laughter.

“Figures,” Marko grumbled. “Four-Card Drax?”

“Good choice,” Jackson said, his voice deep and smooth.

It took them a moment to set up around the barrel. Jackson shuffled the cards like a pro, sliding them between his hands with dizzying speed. Soon enough, they were all seated with their initial hands laid out before them. The sounds of celebration faded into the background as they focused on their cards.

“It’s… dunno,” Jurgen said, staring at his hand. “I mean, she gets results, right? The Major?’ Jackson nodded cautiously in response, eyeing Jurgen. “But back in Barandov, she just kind of fed me to that Ontos tank. I’m not saying it was a bad call, I mean it worked out but, y’know…” He grimaced at the thought of what could have happened. “And I’m thinking like, was that for the mission or was it just to save her hide?”

“I know what you mean,” Greene commented as he intently studied his cards. “They get all high and mighty over the fact that they’re in command and all, but what do they actually know, right?”

Marko just gave the slightest grunt of acknowledgement as he looked over his own hand. It wasn’t fantastic, but he suspected he was holding better then either Greene or Jurgen judging by how they were playing. Jackson was another matter.

“Now I don’t know if you know, but Major Guise weren’t our commander when we got here,” Greene continued.

“Seriously?” Jurgen asked, recoiling in surprise. “Honestly, you wouldn’t know it the way he struts around the place.” He waggled his shoulders for emphasis, then cackled at his own performance.

“That was Major Russel. ‘cept he bought it in our first major battle on the planet. So then you know, Guise steps up and is all ‘I’m the boss now because I was his executive before’,” Greene added, pausing only to take another round from his drink. “Now Guise will claim he got that job because he had actual military experience, but you know how he actually did it? He kissed Russel’s ass every step of the way. Didn’t even wait till the man’s corpse was cold before he declared he was the leader either.” He took another card and stared at it awkwardly in a way that made Marko wonder if he was trying to figure what to do with it or just too drunk to read it.

“Real piece of work,” Jurgen replied before taking a long pull from his beer. “Now I’m not going to say the Major doesn’t play favourites…” He trailed off for a moment. While the drunken MechWarrior may not have noticed Jackson’s stern gaze, Marko certainly did. “I dunno. You two seem like the level headed guys around here. How come you’re not running the show?”

“Because Guise was a better ass-kisser,” Greene replied, all while squinting at his cards. “By the time that Russel was killed he’d basically made sure that everyone in the unit was on his side. And when he declared he was the boss, nobody was gonna say no to him.” He took another swig from his drink. “And then he made sure all the people who’d backed him were rewarded.”

Marko was keenly aware that Greene was also one of those people, but he said nothing and simply focused on the game.

“I bet that’s how it goes with you guys too,” Greene continued. “Whoever kisses the major’s ass the most gets the best stuff.”

“Look, you know what it’s like. Some people get special treatment, you know? Or they can get away with stuff, you know?” Jurgen went to pull from his beer bottle before realising it was empty. Instead, he tossed it over his shoulder. “Like take Rickie. Guy gets his own custom ‘Mech, gets his own lance, gets to run off and do whatever he wants.”

Jurgen turned and clapped a hand on Jackson’s shoulder. “Or the big guy here. He’s just a MechWarrior like me, same lance, same rank, but everyone knows he’s the boss’s favourite. Heck, guy’s basically the second in command.” He finally looked up at Jackson’s disapproving gaze, and quickly added “No offence, man.”

“What’s the deal there?” Greene asked, maybe a touch too loudly.

“Her father wasn’t around. I was,” Jackson replied in a tone that brooked no further discussion.

Marko found that last point interesting, but Greene was again letting his mouth run wild. “Like, I get mercenary families and all that, but there is a lot to be said for actual experience.” He was all but waving his cards around as he spoke. “Major Russel was an actual RAF officer before he was a merc. Guy needed to actually work to get where he was, not just be lucky enough to have had his parents be the right people.”

Marko knew that major Russel had also been dishonorably discharged from the RAF and that his rank was largely self-appointed, but he didn’t feel the need to add that point either. Instead he just remained focused on the game and his opponents, Jackson specifically. It was clear that the man was close to Major Vujic, and that meant he was worth keeping and eye on.

Jackson caught his eye. There was a subtle movement, as the taller man glanced at one of his cards, then the top of the deck. Marko narrowed his eyes and looked over at the other two. Both Jurgen and Greene were getting into it with each other, airing petty grievances instead of paying attention to the cards. Marko gave a slight nod of understanding, and the two men returned to their cards.

“Raise,” Marko said, bringing the others back to the game. A shadow of a smile flickered over Jackson’s face as he matched Marko’s bet. Maybe this would turn out after all.

-----

[Deadborder]

If asked, it was doubtful that anyone in either of the mercenary units could say where the couch came from. And yet, there it was, commanding pride of place in front of the bonfire. Naturally, Lewis Guise had claimed it for himself. He’d been having a good time, simply enjoying the party and letting himself relax for a moment after a hard-fought campaign. Somebody else defeating their enemy for them was only making it that much better.

He let his eyes wander over the party and take it in. The Screaming Demons and Red Reapers were freely mingling with each other and clearly enjoying themselves, something he was all for. It kept morale up and it meant that their alliance could only grow stronger. And there were, of course, other benefits that he could exploit as well.

His eyes fell on one of the Reapers MechWarriors who was dancing with one of his own. Not too bad looking, he considered as he looked over her. Maybe I can convince her to join me on some joint maneuvers. He chortled to himself as he looked around, noting Cullen, the Reapers’ second having some sort of altercation with one of their other pilots. Though she’s not bad either, and higher ranking too. Pity she’s such an uppity bitch.

“Major,” came a voice at his side. Violetta Vujic had appeared, looking down on him with a surprisingly friendly smile. In one hand she carried a bottle of brandy; the other held a couple of delicate tumblers.

“Major,” he replied with an appreciative smile. “Good to see you. Looks like things have worked out so very well for all of us.” Of course, she’d be the real prize, he considered. And looking good is her best talent.

She wandered around the front of the couch and dropped down beside him. The major offered Guise one of the tumblers, then poured a measure of the brandy. “Pulled this one out of a private stash in Chort,” she said amiably. “Of course, I imagine you’ve pulled off any number of trophies yourself while you were here.”

“Absolutely,” he beamed. “This little escapade has been good for myself and my men. We have done fantastically off the salvage we pulled from Barandov and even better from this last lot.” Rebuilding his unit had been his top priority, and this had turned into a golden opportunity. Even accounting for the damage his men had suffered at Barandov, they were coming out well ahead.

He’d quietly tasked Marko with vetting the prisoners they’d pulled to see who they could recruit to fill out holes in their ranks. Of course, he was also going to make sure he got the best people first.

“Some people should be concerned with how fast Madragov’s army seems to have collapsed. But you know what I think, major?” He continued. “I think we should take this as a blessing. We’ve gotten what we came for and we didn’t need to work for it nearly as hard as we should have.” He grinned. “Never look a gift Raxx in the mouth.” He spared a glance at Violetta’s own lips as he spoke.

“To opportunists,” she said, offering her glass. They clinked them together before drinking.

“You know, I’ve heard tell from some of the warlord’s people that they fought a witch.” Violetta paused, her face incredulous. “They say there’s a witch with one of the mercenary units. Can you believe it?”

For a moment he froze, caught in a memory. The red Marauder, and the shot through the face of Russel’s Zeus. Then he shook it off. “Yeah, sure she is,” he replied with a snort. “Probably some crazy woman who thinks that she can do magic or the like because she bought some crystals and a self-help book. You know, probably only got the job because she’s the commander’s girlfriend or whatever.” He gave a derisive snort. “Not like the types who actually have to work for a living, am I right major?”

“Exactly,” she replied. “I had to wrest control of this unit from its old commander.” Her gaze turned hard and her smile faded as old memories came to the surface. “He was leading it to ruin, and I turned it around. We’ve been rebuilding ever since.”

There was a momentary pause, before the stern look departed. “I hear you have a similar story. Picked back up after losing your old commander?” She cocked an eyebrow at Lewis, eager to hear his own take on his story.

“Well there’s not much to say,” he bean, his tone swimming in false modesty. “We were put in a bad situation largely due to Major Russel’s ineptitude. He was killed, and I had to step up and keep the unit together. Realizing the situation we were in, I was forced to retreat rather than keep fighting a losing battle.” He gave an exasperated sigh, one that was more for effect than any real emotion.

“Afterwards I stepped forward to take command of the unit. Those around me knew that I was the best choice for the position for a number of reasons.” He gave her a small smile. “I was the major’s second, was a big part of it, of course, but it was also because I had real military experience, and I was clearly the best man for the job.”

“So you and me,” he indicated between himself and Violetta as he leaned closer, one arm draped on the back of the sofa, clearly headed to her shoulder. “We’re smart. We keep our eyes on the proverbial prize. We don’t let silly superstitions or other things get in our way. I mean, you’re-” he paused a moment, as if he was quickly rethinking his words. “-professional, just like me. And we both know that you don’t beat an enemy with magic spells or that sort of thing. Facts and logic, that’s what matters.”

She snorted in amusement. “The life of a mercenary is hard enough without wasting time on stupid superstitions. We have to be hard. Uncompromising.” The shadow from before flickered momentarily across her face. “Do what we must and take what we can.”

“Exactly,” he nodded. “And that’s why I think this alliance is a good opportunity for both of us. We can take what we want and nobody can stop us.” He smirked. “In fact, I think it’d be even better if we pursued a… closer alliance.”

Violetta turned her attention back to Lewis just as his arm brushed her shoulder. She flinched for a moment, glancing down at it before fixing him with her gaze. Her nose wrinkled in disgust, as if she was seeing through him for the first time.

She abruptly stood, looking down on him. “You…” she began, but for once couldn’t find the words. Instead she sneered at the man and snatched the bottle of brandy from the couch. “You’ve had enough,” she spat, before turning on her heel and leaving.

“Bitch,” Guise simply replied to empty air before shrugging it off. “Her loss,” he then added before turning back to watching the rest of the party.

—--

The Scourge’s foot made for a decent perch, half because of its gentle angle and half because it was parked away from the rest of the party. Violetta leaned up against it and took a swig right from the brandy bottle. She stared out into the bonfire, at the people cheering and cavorting around it, and realised just how much she hated them.

Her dark mood was broken by an approaching figure. Maeve strolled towards her, isolated from the rest of the party. She had a pair of skewers in her hand, and was chewing on the meat from one of them. Seeing the scowl on her commander’s face, Maeve offered her the other.

Violetta took it, and stared at it for a moment. “What is it?” she eventually asked.

“Something local,” Maeve replied. “Demos was cooking them up.” She turned and leaned against the Scourge’s foot while Violetta took a bite, and the pair chewed for a moment in companionable silence.

“So, what is it already?” Maeve asked abruptly, annoyance clear in her tone. When Violetta cocked an inquisitive eyebrow at her, she added “How come you’re not out there celebrating?”

“Guise made a pass at me,” Violetta said, her tone carefully neutral. When Maeve didn’t respond, she looked over at her company commander. The woman’’s face was unreadable. Was it concern? Sympathy? Or worst of all, pity? Whatever it was, Violetta hated it. Instead, she broke the tension by asking “Are you jealous?”

Maeve’s raucous laughter turned to spluttering coughs as she all but choked on her meal. Violetta sat by for a moment, letting Maeve sort herself out. Eventually, once she had calmed down, Violetta wordlessly handed her the brandy bottle. Maeve took a long pull and gulped it down, before gasping for breath.

“Sometimes I just want to strangle that guy,” Violetta said as much to herself as to Maeve.

“Just sometimes?” Maeve asked, only half joking. Violetta’s response was just a long sigh. Maeve leaned over and gave her commander a gentle pat on the back. “Well, think of it this way. Soon we’ll be bundled into our own dropships and heading offworld, and you’ll never have to look at his disgusting face again.”

Before Violetta could respond, another figure came into view. Demos slowly strolled over to the pair, a platter in hand. “Major, Captain,” he said to each in turn, nodding to the pair. “Enjoying the party?”

“It’s had its moments,” Violetta replied, glancing momentarily at Maeve.

If Demos noticed the look, he didn’t respond to it. “Glad I could be of service,” he said instead and offered the platter to the pair. They both declined, and instead he balanced it on the Scourge’s foot.

“You must be happy that it’s all sorted,” Maeve said. Demos’ lack of response spoke volumes. Maeve furrowed her brow and asked “It is over, isn’t it?”

“Well…” He said at length, before trailing off.

“Mandragov’s dead,” Violetta said flatly. “That’s what you wanted, right?”

“Well…” Demos said again, and sighed. “Mandragov was an obstacle. Restoring our operations was what I wanted. And unfortunately, a group of mercenaries working for the Esteros Assembly represent exactly the kind of regional stability that prevents that.” He gave an expansive shrug. “So, until they’re dealt with…”

“You bastard,” Violetta growled as she stood.

“It’s the terms of the contract,” Demos replied, surprisingly holding his ground. “Okay, so I’ll admit the scope is a bit bigger than we expected. Again. But, it is what you agreed to.”

“No,” Violetta said flatly. It was clear that was her only response.

Demos gave a theatrical sigh. “That’s a shame. Given all that you’ve done so far will come to nothing. Still,” he perked up, with an entirely inappropriate smile. “I’m sure Major Guise will be happy to comply. Especially if your cut is also on the table.”

Violetta took a step forward, but was stopped by a hand on her arm. She turned to see Maeve at her side. This time the concern was clear in her eyes. “Don’t,” was all she said.

Violetta watched her captain for a moment. There was something more there that reached her, let her compose herself before she returned her attention to Demos. “Alright,” she said. “But you and me are having a long talk after this is over.”

Demos raised his hands in supplication. “Fair enough,” he said. “I’ll go find the other Major and tell him the good news. In the meantime…” He gestured towards the platter he’d left behind.

The pair of them watched him depart, before settling back against the Scourge’s foot. They leaned together in silence for a while, each one lost in their own thoughts. Eventually, Maeve had to admit “He’s right, you know.”

“I hate you,” Violetta replied without commitment.

“Yeah, I know.” Maeve sighed then smiled back at her. Content for now, the pair leaned back and watched the party progress, now uncertain of what lay ahead of them.

[Deadborder]

Guest chapter by Zogster and KayEmm

Spy Versus Spy

Outside Tirana, Alwaid
Esteros

Yasir lay still on his belly, ignoring the cold. He was nestled on top of a small ridge, largely hidden in the broken rise by scattered trees spread along the rock face. Behind him, a much gentler slope was dotted with the same trees, their knife-shaped deep lilac leaves speckling the ground with shade. It was the perfect hiding place. He’d made up a couple of sheets of netting to match the local flora once he’d arrived on Esteros. One was draped over his back, helping him blend into the leaf litter scattered across the forest floor.

But it was the view ahead of him that was his objective. Beyond the broken slopes lay Tirana, capital of the Alwaid continent. And up until recently, the stronghold of Dimitri Mandragov. The Red Reapers and Screaming Demons were gearing up to assault Tirana and depose the warlord. Only it seemed someone had beat them to it.

Yasir scanned the city with a pair of rangefinder binoculars, the most valuable item his commander had trusted him with. To say there was no love lost between them would be an understatement; Yasir had been all but abducted from his homeworld when he threatened to expose the Reaper’s piracy. Since then he’d been pressed into service as a scout, a role he found he’d adapted to well.

He focused on the capitol district. Like Mandragov before him, Tirana’s conquerors seemed to have set up their base there. While he couldn’t make out personnel from this range, the assembled BattleMechs caught his eye.

He thumbed the small recorder that hung from his neck, and spoke in a low voice. Even out here, there was no point in drawing attention to himself.

“Numerous BattleMechs in the upper city. All in appropriate camouflage schemes, but I can see two distinctive patterns being used. ‘Mechs seemed to be separated out…” He trailed off as he scanned the rangefinders across the assembled war machines. “Possibly different units? Hold on.” He focused his attention on one BattleMech with a distinct colour scheme. “There you are. Members of the Demons mentioned a Marauder that killed their commander. Could this be-”

He cut off upon hearing a noise. A quick glance to his left confirmed it was just the native wildlife. A gangly quadruped stood by, fixing him with a cross-eyed stare. It was an odd-looking creature to him, short-statured but with long legs, leading to a thin body. A tiny tuft of a tail flicked with what he could only presume was annoyance. Short lavender fur ran across its body, save for a thick ridge of deep purple up its back that lead to its head. It had a short snout and a pair of comically large ears right by the matte black barrel-

Yasir moved, rolling on instinct more than anything else. Within a split second the ground erupted where he had lain as the peace was interrupted by the crack of a rifle. He flung his netting aside and ran, hoping to confuse his unseen attacker. A second shot tore bark off a tree centimeters in front of his face. Yasir dropped to the forest floor, nestling behind a rocky outcrop that would give him a modicum of cover and a moment to think.

He desperately scanned the forest. The animal had darted away, no doubt escaping at the first shot. He should be so lucky. His ATV was close at hand, hidden under his netting. Yasir cursed that his submachine gun was safely nestled on the vehicle’s back. And finally the shape of his assailant resolved itself. A figure in a simple hat and coat, nestled between a bush and tree trunk and expertly hidden by them. A pair of dark eyes looked out over the barrel of an old-fashioned rifle. Meeting the man’s gaze, Yasir flattened himself against the ground. He had to escape.

—--
 
While everyone had been engaged in the cleanup in Tirana, Anton Yamashita had been given another task. Lady Dragan felt that there were still more threats to be dealt with, a concern that was born out by the information they had recovered from Mandragov’s men. There was a threat growing in the east, one that had bought down much of the warlord’s army and sped up the fall of his empire. While it had made the Iron Knights and Star of Sumer’s efforts that much easier, it also meant that there was still an unknown force that needed to be accounted for.

He had been dispatched to the east of the ruined city, armed with only his hunting rifle and dirt bike to find that force. His features almost entirely hidden behind a cloth facemask, he betrayed no hint of his identity or where he had come from. He carried a pair of binoculars and a simple communicator, and nothing else. It was how he operated, and had done so on so many worlds in past. And even then, most of those accouterments were things he had picked up along the way; luxuries that made his job easier but that he could live without. He had started out with just a rifle, after all.

After hours in the field he had made contact with an unknown enemy; a lone rider that had come from somewhere to the east and had been spying on their forces. As such, he had two objectives; stop this scout from getting back to his forces, and capture them to find who they worked for. The arrival of one of the native creatures had served as a handy distraction, diverting the scout’s attention as he lined up a shot.

And then, at the last possible moment, they moved. His shot tore into the bark of a tree where the scout had been just a second before. He quickly slid the bolt and fired again, this second shot again passing precipitously close to the target.

His opponent was clearly keen-eyed and aware of his surroundings, darting off into the purple bushes in effort to lose him. Sharp eyed and fast, Anton told himself. An excellent scout. He took off after them, barging through the undergrowth as he chased after his opponent. He ducked and weaved around several more trees, keeping his eyes on his target as best he could. As much as he wanted to, his target was doing their best to prevent him from being able to get off a good shot. Cunning.

He got off another shot, this one again passing so very close to his opponent, instead sensing tufts of purple leaves flying. The enemy scout rolled out of the way, disappearing behind a bush. A moment later there was a whine of an electric motor, followed by another explosion of foliage as the enemy scout took off on the back of an ATV. Their plan was obvious; try and escape and get back to their own forces.

However, he wasn’t going to let them. He instantly turned around, darting back to his own bike. It took precious seconds of sucking and weaving his way through the undergrowth to get back to it, time that meant that the enemy scout was doubtless getting away. That was a risk he was going to have to take in order to chase them down regardless; there was no way that he would catch them on foot, but on his bike was another matter.

Anton leaped onto the bike, kickstarting the motor and immediately taking off. The bike darted forwards, easily weaving between the trees at what would be a precipitous speed to anyone else. He vaulted off a rock, coming down with a jarring thud without losing any momentum and immediately continuing to barrel along at high speed. Ahead he could see his target, driving their ATV at high speed to try and get away.

Not that Anton was going to let him.

-----

Yasir didn’t like to count on luck, but it felt like that was the only reason he’d made it this far. It was pure chance that the animal had revealed the enemy scout to him. He could immediately tell that his opponent was experienced and precise. He felt fortunate to have even gotten to his ATV, and was finally putting ground between them. However, he was quite literally not out of the woods yet.

The high-pitched whirring of an engine alerted him. In is rear-view mirror he saw a rugged dirt bike burst from between the trees, bounding down to land in the scrub and continue unabated after him. He kept an eye on the bike as it gained on him, even as he weaved his thick-bodied vehicle through the trees.
Yasir cursed the very luck that had saved him. The other scout’s dirt bike was far better suited to this, able to wind its way between the trunks with ease. And the rider’s skill and confidence let him do so at breakneck speed, rapidly closing the distance between them. On the other hand, Yasir had to gauge his speed carefully, picking a path in the foliage that his ATV could fit through while trying to keep ahead of his pursuer.

He focused on the path ahead of him. Yasir knew the trees would soon thin out, giving way to rocky hills. His own vehicle would have the advantage there, even though the long lines of sight would make it hard to escape. And while it would be better than picking through the thick foliage, first he had to make it there.

Gripping the handlebars with one hand, Yasir reached down to the saddle holster with the other. He drew out his submachinegun, grateful that he had a compact model. Without even bothering to aim, he sprayed fire wildly behind him. Just.. Stay back! he almost yelled out as the gun bucked in his hand.

—--

The bullets flew through the air around Anton as his bike crashed forwards. His opponent was taking a risk, firing over their shoulder as they drove, but it was also a good way to keep him back. Their compact weapon was one they could fire, even if ineffectually while on the move; something that he couldn’t do with his rifle.

He weaved around behind the quad bike, keeping in the deadzone where the rider couldn’t fire at him, at least not without turning all the way around. That of course would mean not paying attention to where they were going, forcing them to chose between trying to stop him and trying to escape. Of course, at the same time, that still meant Anton had no way to actually stop him. But that did not mean that he was going to let his opponent escape by any means. Not only did they have information on their forces, but they also could be a potentially source of information about this new threat.

He kept the pressure up on his target, riding as close to them as possible while remaining in their deadzone as long as he could. Hopefully that would be enough to pressure them into making a mistake or losing their focus while Anton looked around for an opportunity. To their credit, the other driver was skilled, and was doing their best to shake him.

And then he abruptly broke off from his pursuit, swerving off to one side and disappearing into the undergrowth. The bike’s engine roared as he surged up a rise, taking a path parallel to that of his opponent while keeping them in his sight. Finally he came to the end of the rise, pulling up the bike in a cloud of dirt.

He quickly took out his rifle, drawing a bead on the quadbike as it continued to speed along in their efforts to escape. He shifted his aim ever so slightly towards the engine of the bike, before firing.

—--

Things were not going as Yasir had hoped. He had doubted that he’d be able to hit his pursuer, but had at least hoped to earn some distance with his gunfire. Instead, the other scout had slipped in behind him, where Yasir dared not turn to fire. Still, it meant Yasir knew where he was. He shot off another burst of fire, as much to keep him in place as anything, as he headed for the treeline.

Yasir wound around a thick copse of trees, struggling to keep the ATV under control. It took a moment’s concentration away from his pursuer, but when he checked back the dirt bike was gone. He didn’t dare turn around to scan behind him, instead glancing at the mirror. There were too many places to hide in the receding forest, and Yasir had to assume he was still being followed.

He gunned the engine, taking a risk. The trees were already thinning out, letting him pick up the pace. Soon he would be clear of the forest and his pursuer, wherever they’d gotten to, would have a hard time keeping up. He kept one eye on his mirrors, trying to find some sign of the enemy scout. Nothing. Yasir knew better than to think that he’d eluded what was clearly a skilled opponent. Instead, all he could hope was to outrun him.

A loud crack echoed out over the hills. Before he could register what was happening, the ATV lost power beneath him. He struggled to maintain control, but was thrown from the vehicle as it hit a rise and rolled over. Yasir hit the ground hard, gasping as the wind was driven from him. He managed to bring his arms up over his face, battering them but saving him from the worst of the impact. Still, it felt like every part of him was bruised, scraped and battered. To his side, the ATV bounded past, tumbling down the hill out of sight.

Panic set in. He couldn’t be captured, not again. It was enough that he was pressed into service by the Reapers, but to be brought in by a hostile force he’d been spying on… Despite his plethora of aches, he willed himself to move. Yasir dragged himself to his feet and set off, his stumbling quickly turning to a run. He knew the other scout was somewhere at his back, but his only chance was to -

Another shot rang out, followed immediately by the whizzing of a bullet right by his ear. Yasir froze in place. The enemy had disabled his vehicle moving at high speed over uneven terrain with a single shot. There was no way such a marksman could miss a man on foot stumbling over the rocks… Unintentionally.

This was it then. Yasir raised his hands and placed them behind his head. He slowly crouched down, bringing himself to his knees. And he waited. Staring down at the ground before him, dreading what was to come. Soon enough he heard the crunching sound of boots over the scattered stones and leaves growing louder with every step. Then, silence. The footfalls had stopped right behind him, and he didn’t need to turn his head to know the rifle was leveled at it.

Yasir closed his eyes and waited for the inevitable.

—--

Much like the warlord before them, the mercenaries occupying Tirana had turned the city’s central police precinct into a makeshift brig. Not that there was much need for it until now - the casualties on Mandragov’s side had been near complete among his MechWarriors and many of his conventional forces had simply fled. But now Iulia’s scout had brought in an interesting prisoner.

Katarina watched the boy - no, the enemy scout - through the two-way mirror. He sat rock still behind a table in the interrogation room, head bowed and shoulders raised. Patient but tense. He looks so young, was the thought rattling around in her head, wondering just how he’d wound up in this position and who would use him this way.

Off to the side, Anton finished his report to Iulia, the pair of them speaking in low voices in a language she couldn’t understand. Anton departed, while Iulia joined her at the window, looking in on their prisoner. The women stood in silence, each lost in their own thoughts as they studied him.

“Normal questioning will not work,” Iulia said out of nowhere. Despite herself, Katarina nodded in agreement.

“He’s waiting to be hit,” Katarina realised, telling herself as much as her comrade.

This time, Iulia nodded her agreement. “He does not need an interrogator. He needs a friend.”