From a Ristar to a Lady

[The Wobbly Guy]

Rwabdogo’s Valley, Hoard
Kerensky Cluster, Clan Space
17th January, 3053
1500 hours

Star Commander Avryl cursed as her light autocannons’ shells raked ineffectively over the thick hide of the Phoenix Hawk IIC, followed by a flight of LRMs that narrowly missed the assault mech. It would take forever for her weapons to shave enough armour off, even while the enemy Star of mostly heavy and assault mechs was eagerly beating down the other half of the Binary she belonged to.

Her light mechs were still trudging desperately through the pools, streams, and muddy ground that had formed in the wake of the flash flood the Nova Cats had unleashed upon the floor of the formerly dry valley. Avryl had no idea how the Nova Cats did it, except that they did, and changing the conditions within the Circle of Equals was not exactly prohibited by the laws of the Clans.

The Smoke Jaguars could only blame themselves for not foreseeing this possibility. Heads from the Watch were going to roll for this.

The batchall had been straightforward. Star Captain Tikern would lead a second-line Smoke Jaguar Binary of medium and light mechs against the Nova Cats in a Trial of Possession to contest several warehouses containing supplies, supplies that their clan desperately needed to rebuild after the horrendous losses on Luthien and Tukayyid.

For this Trial, the Nova Cat officer, a Star Commander named Hawise, underbid with her makeshift Nova of five mechs and a star of elementals, apparently all she had available. To even call it a Nova was laughable, since her second-line battlemechs could not transport battlearmor, unlike omnimechs. Furthermore, Avryl read from her codex that this Star Commander Hawise had failed in her two previous bids for a Bloodname, and was also a participant in the lost battles of Luthien and Tukayyid.

In other words, Hawise was simply a loser, a defective product of the clan eugenic breeding system and on her way to irrelevance.

Avryl only realised she had been overly dismissive of Hawise after the Nova Cats sprang surprise after surprise on the Smoke Jaguars. They had lured her light Star to check out readings that she thought were the elementals, only to find mere elemental-shaped lumps of metal with the bare minimum of circuitry to fool their sensors. Meanwhile, the real elementals entered the field via some crazy glider-like things that enabled them to drop right on top of Tikern’s Command Star, while Hawise’s star of mechs smashed in at the same time, throwing zellbrigen out of the airlock.

Then to slow down Avryl’s light but fast mechs, the Nova Cats flooded the valley with water from somewhere, neatly taking advantage of the fact that none of her mechs had jump jets and relied on pure ground speed, which was partly why their Binary was assigned to this target in the first place! Enabling the Nova Cats to defeat the Smoke Jaguars in detail.

Tikern’s Hunchback IIC exploded spectacularly, both torsos blowing up as its ammunition stores were hit by the seemingly endless barrages from the Nova Cats. Vret’s Clint IIC was pummelled into a twisted wreck by two heavy mechs. Karia’s Glass Spider fell to the ground, missing a head after the elementals decapitated it.

All the while, Avryl fired at the Nova Cats, trying to draw their attention while advancing slowly across the flooded terrain, peppering their flanks with autocannon and LRM fire from her Great Wyrm, but they resolutely ignored her. Her light Star was finally getting into range, but it was too little, too late.

Huyten’s Howler was the only other mech with any long range weapons, and it was also launching LRMs ineffectively at their opponents. Her Commando IIC, Snow Fox, and Locust IIC were just stuck trying to get into range, wading through the water and muddy ground.

Olina’s Corvis went down next, followed soon after by Buono’s Thresher. Both mechwarriors ejected, so they should survive, but it was small comfort to Avryl, who realised she now faced an entire heavy star of Nova Cats, of which any three mechs outweighed her entire Star. The Nova Cats might be damaged, but more than capable of fending her off.

The Trial, for all intents and purposes, was lost. Avryl gritted her teeth, and prepared for a final charge to the death, when her comms suddenly beeped, indicating a message from Star Commander Hawise. She punched a button, and Star Commander Hawise appeared on her HUD.

“Star Commander Avryl, this Trial is over. I offer you hegira.” There was no smugness or gloating in Hawise’s tone, just a statement of facts. “Any further battle would be simply a waste of resources, resources both our clans will need in the dark days ahead.”

Avryl tried to summon up some bravado, glaring at the image of the Nova Cat. “Are you afraid we will defeat you? Are the Nova Cats so afraid of the Jaguars that they would offer hegira than suffer more damage?”

“Neg. Should you really wish to die, we can certainly oblige you, quiaff?” replied Hawise with some sarcasm.

Avryl stayed silent.

“Seems like you do not wish to die after all.” Hawise barked harsh laughter over the channel. “You are young, you will get more chances at glory. But only if you are alive, quiaff?”

“Aff.” Avryl nodded reluctantly. “I accept your offer of hegira.” It was galling, but Hawise was right.

“Bargained well and done.” The enemy Warhammer IIC raised its tube-like arms in a salute. “You may recover your mechs and your dead,” Avryl raised an eyebrow, that was beyond generous. “I was instructed to do so by my superiors, no need to credit me for it.”

The Nova Cat mechs began withdrawing from the field of battle, while Avryl called down her dropship for pickup and to recover the fallen mechs and warriors. Still feeling stung by the defeat, Avryl could not help but declare to Hawise, “I shall meet you again one day, and I will avenge this defeat.”

“Who knows, under what circumstances?” replied Hawise cryptically. “Until we meet again, Star Commander.”

 
Kalinski Estate, Inman,
Milligan PDZ, Woodbine Operational Area,
24th July, 3061
0700 hours (1100 hrs on local 28 hr cycle)

“These rich Spheroid nobles are really something,” whistled Hawise in envy as her family was escorted through the corridors of the Kalinski mansion. “Crechies, follow the nice lady and do not run about.”

The maid, who introduced herself as Luisa, turned around and beamed at the two children. “Your kids are so cute!”

A few days ago, a letter arrived at the hostel where the clan expatriates were camped out, inviting Hawise and her family to Lady Kalinska’s estate for a small celebratory meal as thanks for her assistance in the incident at the hoverbike race.

It was truly extravagant. A hoverlimo came to pick them up from the hostel, and her children were excitedly jumping all over the interior furnishings until Hawise strapped them in to force them to sit relatively still.

The maid Luisa greeted them when they reached the mansion, and her entire family was struck dumb by the sheer opulence of the entire place.

They were dressed in their finest clothes, but those were the only slightly more upscale civilian attire that they owned. Hawise could not help but still feel out of place. Even during the initial clan invasion, Operation Revival, she did not have a chance to visit any of the holdings owned by Inner Sphere nobles.

The unit she had been assigned to, the 274th Battle Cluster, was included in the final bid for Luthien, but was so heavily damaged by the end of the battle that its survivors were cannibalised by other units to bring them up to strength for Tukayyid. Hawise had been one of those survivors of Luthien, and then transferred to Beta Galaxy for that climatic battle. She often quipped, to anybody who asked, that she was one of those few clan warriors who lost but survived every battle in the Inner Sphere.

When they reached the dining hall, Lady Anastasia Kalinska greeted them with a graceful curtsy that Hawise did not think she could achieve even with years of practice.

Anastasia smiled gently, “My esteemed guests, welcome to the Kalinski mansion. I am so glad to meet you all. I am Anastasia Kalinska, heir to the Kalinski barony.”

“Uh, greetings, I am Hawise, chief tech.” She pointed to Winston. “My husband Winston, he is a scientist. And these two kits are Ava and Paul, my children.”

Somewhat to her surprise, the lady shook Winston’s hand, and actually crouched down to greet her children, treating them like adults. Ava looked absolutely enchanted, and returned the lady’s curtsey with a clumsy one of her own, while little Paul simply looked awestruck while she shook his tiny hand.

“I humbly apologise for the buffet spread,” explained Lady Kalinska. “This was arranged on rather short notice, so we were not able to procure some of Inman’s signature dishes. But I trust there is enough variety to satisfy you, since I was not sure what your preferred dishes were?”

There is need for an apology? Hawise stared at the food on the table in front of them, laden with labelled delicacies and dishes that, frankly speaking, she could not have eaten even when she was a fully fledged warrior of the clans. Since arriving on Delacambre, they had access to a bit more variety, of course, but nowhere on this level. The nobles really lived differently from the rest.

“There are both cold and hot desserts available from the kitchen when you wish for them. Just ask the servants,” Lady Kalinska informed them. “I recommend the chocolate sorbet ice cream. It’s one of my guilty pleasures.”

Hawise grinned, “Thank you for the tip. We will keep it in mind.” She picked up a plate and started taking food from the table, Winston following suit. The maid Luisa followed her kids around, asking them what they liked and piling their choices onto two cute-looking plastic plates on her tray.

After taking her own food, Lady Kalinska sat down next to her and said, “Chief Tech Hawise, I’d like to thank you again for your assistance the other day. If you hadn’t been riding behind me, Lady Seydoux could have been hurt really badly.”

Hawise shrugged. She had heard rumours about the politics of the incident, that the runaway hoverbike was originally meant for Lady Kalinska and to humiliate her. “I am just glad we were in a position to help.” She stared at Lady Kalinska. “I do not know why, but have we met before?”

Lady Kalinska actually flinched a bit. “Maybe I remind you of somebody. I’ve never even left the Trivet in my whole life. Have you come to Inman previously?”

Hawise chewed on a piece of rare steak speculatively, thinking hard even while enjoying the morsel as it almost melted in her mouth. “Neg, never even set foot on Inman until a few weeks ago, And I think I would have remembered meeting a noble.” And now you’re talking like a Spheroid, when during that rescue, you sounded like a proper warrior of the clans. You even mentioned the Ice Hellions! And why do I get the feeling you will deny it if I asked? What are you hiding, young lady?

Hawise had done a bit of research on Anastasia Kalinska, and some of the information she found was shocking. A love affair with the Count’s heir, rumored suicide attempt, almost kidnapped during a bandit raid on Altoona. Scandals seemed to follow her around, painting the picture of a wanton, spoiled noblewoman who had little regard for anything.

But Hawise had seen for herself that Anastasia was a brave and decisive woman, well-mannered and kind. Completely at odds with what the rumours said. So who was the real Anastasia Kalinska?

Lady Kalinska asked, “How did you come to Delacambre? I mean, I know Viscount Rason invited you, but not the details.”

“Oh, that.” Hawise paused. She bit off a piece of fried scallop, savouring the crispiness before swallowing it. She idly wondered what a scallop was, since that was the name of the dish printed on a label next to it.

Then she returned to the topic of the conversation and explained, “After the Smoke Jaguars were driven out of the occupation zone, us civilian castes were left behind. The vengeful Kuritans would probably have put us into concentration camps, so Anastasius Focht and Victor Steiner-Davion called for members of the liberating forces who were also nobles to offer us places in their landholdings. We were grouped together mostly by our enclaves, but where each enclave went was determined by a lottery.”

She grinned. “Just so happened that Viscount Rason got us from Schuyler.”

“If I may ask, how was life in the clans? How did you become a chief tech?”

“Oh, I did not start out as a chief tech.” She observed Lady Kalinska carefully. “I was actually a mechwarrior.”

“Oh, how unexpected!” Anastasia gasped, but her gasp of surprise was so immediate and fake that Hawise could pick up on it. Hmmm… she already knew I was a mechwarrior. And she wanted me to think otherwise. She could have asked the other clanners, it is not exactly a secret. So why pretend at all?

It just did not make sense to Hawise. She continued to talk. “Aff, I was a mechwarrior of the Nova Cats. I tested down from the warrior caste, and was reassigned to be an engine technician, specialising in fuel cell and ICE engines. I supposed I was good at it, which was how I became a chief tech.”

To add to her suspicions, while other Spheroids would have asked about what ‘tested down’ meant, Lady Kalinska did not. “The Nova Cats? Then how did you end up with the Smoke Jaguars?”

“My family and some others were taken as isorla from a Smoke Jaguar raid in the Occupation Zone. The Nova Cats were already shifting significant numbers of their civilians to the Inner Sphere, and I was a part of that.” That elicited a small gasp from Anastasia. Well, that was not commonly known outside the Nova Cats.

Anastasia asked, “Do you ever think of becoming a mechwarrior again?”

Hawise replied wistfully, “To have a mech under my controls again? That would be nice.” She smiled ruefully. “After the Smoke Jaguars took us, I was actually interviewed by one of their officers to assess my suitability to test back in.”

“So why not?”

Hawise held up three fingers and ticked them off, “First, by clan standards I am already solahma.” One finger came down. “Next, I am a Warden. Still am, in fact.” The second finger. “And finally, I was pregnant with Paul.” The last finger came down, and she beamed at the sight of her youngest devouring the pasta on his plate.

“Oh.” Lady Kalinska actually looked somewhat ill when the word ‘pregnant’ was used, which was another interesting data point. It was the usual reaction of most canister-born trueborns, but Lady Kalinska herself was a freeborn of the Inner Sphere, and a woman on top of it. Few other Spheroid women she had encountered so far had ever expressed such obvious revulsion at the idea of pregnancy, Lady Kalinska was one of the few.

“That said,” Hawise decided to probe a bit, “How is it you understood all the clan terms I was using? Test down, isorla, solahma, warden… these are not things generally known in the Inner Sphere.”

Lady Kalinska’s poker face was terrible. She paled, then quickly stammered, “Uhm… there… there were, I mean, we… we have some books on the Clans, and I tried to prepare for this meeting by reading them, which was why I had some knowledge of the terms you used.” She smiled, obviously hoping the explanation would satisfy Hawise.

It did not, not in the least. Hawise felt even more suspicious now. After this meal, I will talk to her privately. For some reason, the pack of tarot cards in her card holder felt heavier than usual. Hawise thought about her dreams the previous night, and her morning card reading.

Her vision was of a smoke jaguar trapped within a sapphire gem, snarling fiercely. When her family arrived at the mansion, she saw the adorning banners showing a hand holding a sapphire in its palm. Luisa had told her it was the heraldry of House Kalinski.

There was a connection, Hawise was sure of it. And her cards… the card shown that morning was Justice, reversed.

A higher power was at work, beyond the laws of nature and rationality.

 

“I’m so full,” declared little Ava as she hugged Anastasia. “And the food was so yummy! Thank you, pretty lady!”

“Ava, behave yourself!” chided Hawise.

Despite herself, Anastasia could not help but laugh a bit. “It’s all right. I’m glad you enjoyed the food.” She noted the kids seemed a bit drowsy. “The children may be getting tired.”

“Uh-oh, food coma is kicking in.” Winston observed. “They are going to need a nap soon.”

“No problem,” Anastasia gestured to Luisa. “As my guests, we have prepared rooms for you to rest. Maybe the kids can watch some shows, play some toys, and then nap?” She turned to Hawise. “I would like to talk to the Chief Tech privately.”

“Sure,” Hawise agreed. “Go ahead with the crechies, Winston. I have some things I want to discuss with Lady Kalinska myself.”

With Luisa’s aid, Winston trooped off with the children. Anastasia was glad she had consulted Luisa and the other maids on what she could do for a guest family, and hence they were well-prepared. There were even some toys the maids had dug out of the storage rooms, in case the children wanted to play a bit while she talked with Hawise.

Anastasia still was not sure herself why she had wanted so much to talk to the former Nova Cat. Was it nostalgia? A yearning for a simpler time when she was just a mechwarrior in the clans? To be reminded of the mechwarrior she once had been, and maybe could be once more?

They sat down in the tea room, while a maid prepared blue mellow in the teapot, along with a small pot of lime juice to add to the tea for taste and the colour change. As she stirred her own tea, Anastasia felt a bit lost, wondering how she should start the conversation.

After the maid left, Hawise spoke first. “Lady Kalinska, thanks so much for hosting my family today. I’ve never felt so pampered.”

“It’s the least I could do.” Anastasia smiled sincerely.

“But there is something else, right?” asked Hawise. “How much do you know about the Nova Cats?”

That they are a bunch of superstitious mystics so dependent on their visions that they lose sight of reality? Anastasia bit back the automatic insult the Smoke Jaguars had against the Nova Cats, and said instead, “Oh, I don’t know much, the books I read only talked about the general features of the clans.”

“The Nova Cats believed in using visions to guide our decisions. As for myself, I never had much luck with visions for many years, so I used this instead.” Hawise placed a weathered but elaborately patterned leather card holder on the table. She unbuttoned the flap, pulling it off the velcro to reveal a set of laminated cards with strange drawings. “Tarot cards.”

“Tarot cards?” echoed Anastasia.

“It is an ancient tradition. A bit of a fraud in the beginning, admittedly.” Hawise started to shuffle the cards, her hands moving with practised ease. “But belief, even false belief, can evolve. When people start believing in something, they can make it real.”

At Anastasia’s sceptical frown, she added, “Think about the Star League, both versions. It existed only because people believed it existed. There is power in belief. Even the Goliath Scorpions and their necrosia, the Coyotes and their rituals, the Cloud Cobras and their Ways.”

“A bunch of Warden nonsense,” blurted Anastasia, then she realised her mistake.

Hawise smirked, “And I thought you knew nothing of each of the clans?”

Anastasia stayed silent.

Hawise held out the stack of cards. “Cut it. If you do not mind.”

She did so, taking roughly half the deck while Hawise turned her own deck the other way, then riffled the two halves together.

“I will now continue to shuffle until you tell me to stop.”

Anastasia waited for two beats, then said, “Stop.”

Hawise stopped shuffling, and dealt the top three cards in order in front of Anastasia.

“The cards are usually used as a tool for reflection, but on occasion they can predict the past, present, and or the future. Turn them over.”

Anastasia opened the cards as instructed. She read the titles. The Fool, Death, and Judgement.

“All upright, major cards,” Hawise murmured. Her eyes shot up to meet Anastasia’s, a knowing look on her face. Her eyes gleamed, as though she had discovered a great truth.

“I think these cards tell a story. Do you wish to hear it?”

Anastasia stiffened, then forced herself to relax and act unconcerned, just curious. She could not possibly know, could she? “Sure, why not?”

Hawise tapped the Fool card with a finger. “Once, there was this person. Naive, ignorant, but with the potential to grow, to be greater.”

Her finger moved to the next card. “Death. A great change occurred. Could be death for real, who knows?” Her eyes stayed on Anastasia.

Tap. Judgement. “Reincarnation. A new life. The person lives a new life, but is also changed. New perspectives are gained. What happens next?” She smiled at Anastasia. “That is up to you, quiaff?”

“Why does it have to concern me?”

“I get it, it is hard to believe.” Hawise was clearly probing, testing her, “You do not believe this, quineg?”

“No, I don’t.” It took every bit of her willpower not to say ‘neg’.

“Well, I can tell you there was one time when the cards came in handy… it was my last battle on Hoard, defending a cache of parts from some Smoke Jaguars.” Anastasia stiffened, but Hawise went on.

“They told me a fool led the Jaguars, so I had confidence in bidding quite a bit under, while relying on my traps to even the odds.” She grinned. “And his subordinate was just as much of a fool for not realising mech sensors could be tricked.”

Anastasia tried to suppress her anger, and forced out a slight laugh. “I’m sorry, I have no idea what you’re talking about?”

“No? Star Commander Avryl of the Smoke Jaguars was too eager for glory in her very first battle, so she led her Star to abandon the rest of her Binary in an attempt to win glory by killing my elementals first. Too bad the readings were just decoys. And the flooding of the valley, glider deployment of my elemental Star…”

Anastasia finally snapped, scowling as she slammed one fist on the table, rattling the tea cups. “The Watch intel was poor, how were we supposed to know the valley could be flooded! Any warrior would have done the same!” The loss still rankled even after so long.

Anastasia’s eyes grew wide as she realised what she just said. She closed her eyes for an instant, before opening them to glare at Hawise in defiance, daring her to state the truth outright.

“Your eyes may be new, but the glare is not.” Hawise smirked. “There are more things in Heaven and Earth, Horatio, than are dreamt of in your philosophy.”

“I know that quote,” grumbled Anastasia, “Hamlet, Shakespeare. I was forced to read it as part of being a lady.”

Hawise laughed. “All right, all right! I will stop teasing you.”

“So what are you going to do about this?” asked Anastasia, her tone suspicious.

“Absolutely nothing.” Hawise shrugged. “You think anybody would believe me? They would lock me up in a mental institution.”

Anastasia breathed in relief. “You are the first to discover my secret. How you figured it out…” she stared at the cards, “I cannot quite believe it myself.”

“That’s because these cards appeared to me before. The Fool card on the day of the battle on Hoard, the Death card on the same day as Avryl Shower’s death on Garstedt, and the Judgement card on the same day you, Anastasia Kalinska, woke up from your coma. I very rarely have major cards turn up, so I had been pondering the significance of these cards since then.” Hawise paused, then added, “And, I had a vision which helped to lead me to this conclusion.”

Anastasia said acidly, “Forgive me if I still cannot bring myself to have any belief in your visions and your cards.”

“Are they any less believable than you waking up in a new body?” asked Hawise rhetorically.

Anastasia had no answer to that.

“What happened to the original Anastasia Kalinska then?” asked Hawise.

“I still get these… echoes… for lack of a better word,” replied Anastasia. “I can sense her feelings when they are very strong, for example when confronting Richelle Aubert.”

“That surat who sabotaged the hoverbike?”

“Aff. Anastasia hated and feared her. On a few occasions, she would also take over our body for short spurts. So I do not think she is dead, just dormant.”

“Very interesting…” Hawise mused. “The Cloud Cobras would have a field day debating philosophy of the soul if they knew of your… condition. Any idea how this happened?”

“None at all. Why I have been given this second reprieve at life, I have no idea.”

“The Powers do as they will.” Hawise murmured. “We are but pawns in their grand design.”

Anastasia grimaced. “I refuse to believe that. Our fates are ours to shape, not at their whims.”

“Maybe, maybe.” Hawise conceded. “But this really makes you think about what possibilities are out there, quiaff?”

They sat in companionable silence for a while.

Anastasia broke the silence, her decision made. “I have a proposition for you.”

“Hmmm?” Hawise looked intrigued.

“The barony on Altoona I am going to inherit… the household infantry garrison is in bad shape. They’re slightly better now in terms of their morale, discipline, and equipment, but they still lack the proper training. I intend to train them up for combined arms operations, and that is where I need your help.”

“My help? What can I help with?”

“You were stationed with a garrison cluster for a time, right? And I remember vaguely from your records that you worked with battle armour, conventional infantry, and combat vehicles in garrison. You’re probably one of the few people in the entire Trivet who knows how to meld different combat arms into a coherent whole.” Of course, Finn knew it too, but she could not ask him.

“That is high praise, but if what you’re saying is true, then all you have is infantry. I do not see the ‘combined’ part of it.”

“I have two light mechs. Well, one real battlemech, a Valkyrie, and one modified industrial mech somewhat close to being a battlemech.” Anastasia clenched her fists. “I know they’re not much, but you’ll be a mechwarrior again. A mech is better than none, quiaff?”

“Aff, that is true.” Hawise conceded. “Then what?”

Anastasia explained, “You will be my household’s Weapons Master, in charge of the military defences and training, and the position is currently empty. On paper you answer to me, of course, but in reality we’ll probably work together on decisions. In addition to the company of motorised infantry and my two mechs, my father the Baron has released sufficient funds for me to purchase two heavy tracked APCs, second hand, to extend the range of the infantry. Altogether, they should be a potent force to deter any potential attack.”

Hawise raised an eyebrow, interested now. “Your offer is tempting. But I am still solahma…”

Anastasia scoffed. “Right here, right now, nobody cares about that. For any number of reasons, you’re my best choice. Your family will come along, of course, and your children will be raised within the household.”

“Will that be a problem? I mean…”

Anastasia smiled, “The household at Altoona actually has a fair number of children belonging to the staff with a dedicated childcare centre… I mean creche. There are tutors provided for them, though from what I see, the standard seems quite rudimentary. In fact,” she mused, “I might bring in better tutors from outside the Trivet. Like what Finn did with the Smoke Jaguar civilians, just on a smaller scale.”

“I admit, I am very tempted, but I need to discuss it with Winston.” Hawise answered. “We are an equal partnership.”

Anastasia sighed. “How did you do… all this? Just stepping down from being a mechwarrior so easily? Having a family?”

“It actually was not difficult,” Hawise shrugged her shoulders, “Truthfully, my Star Colonel wanted me to stay on after the Trial on Hoard sufficed to requalify me. But I had been a mechwarrior for almost fifteen years, with not much to show for it except scars, broken bones, and the memories of too many fallen comrades and lost battles. There is more to life than being a mechwarrior, and I wanted to see it, experience it, for myself.” She smiled wistfully. “Now, I would not give up my family for anything.”

Anastasia frowned, “Not for anything? Not even a Bloodname?”

“Not for even the Rosse Bloodname.” Hawise asserted resolutely. “We crippled ourselves, Av… Lady Kalinska. Lost a vital part of our humanity. Most of us thought the lesser of ourselves every step of the way when we failed to match up to what our culture demanded of us. Not good enough, not strong enough. Blah blah blah.” She stared at Anastasia. “And where did it bring the clans? The ilKhan’s death at Radstadt was only the beginning. It led to Luthien, then Tukayyid. All the way to the Great Refusal. So many could not let go, to change.”

Hawise tapped her deck of tarot cards. “Say what you want about my cards, or the visions of the Nova Cats. They are a reminder that change is inevitable, that we must adapt to it.” Her eyes met Anastasia’s squarely. “If we do not change, then that would be the true tragedy.”

Anastasia admitted. “I will be honest with you. I do not intend to just stay like… well, this for the rest of my life.”

“Then you also recognise the need for change. Even if there are many worse fates than being a spoiled aristocrat,” Hawise commented. “But it is hard to overcome our upbringing.”

“It is not just that. The traitor who killed Avryl Showers on Garstedt… he is still alive, and here on Inman.” Anastasia revealed, her gaze cold and hard. “Pence Lamongue was abtakha from the Burrocks, and I have reason to believe he was one of those working with the Dark Caste. He changed his name, so now he’s Spencer Larouche, a transplanted noble working for the ruling family here.”

“You want revenge.”

“Aff. The two light mechs I have are no match for his upgraded Banshee. I am trying to gain allies and opportunities, to work towards my vengeance.”

Hawise looked puzzled, “Why not tell Viscount Rason?”

Anastasia shook her head slowly. “Neg, why would he believe me? More importantly, there is no honour in manipulating my fiance for that, when honour dictates I get my revenge myself.”

“A Trial of Grievance. Or something close to it.” Hawise surmised correctly.

“Aff. I’ll need a heavy mech at least to match his Banshee. And the right conditions that would allow me to fight him… I am still not sure how to achieve all that, but having you on board could only help.”

Hawise stayed silent for a while, before speaking. “I will keep what was revealed here confidential, of course. As for my decision… Give me about a week to consider. We are not leaving Inman any time soon anyway.”

Anastasia shook hands with Hawise. “Bargained well and done.”
---------------------------
Ana finally gets an ally in the know.

[Wrangler]

That's a twist. I do find it amazing someone could accept that someone was reborn in someone else body, and maybe co-inhabiting it!

[The Wobbly Guy]

De Gaulle Opera Theater, Innerman City, Inman
Milligan PDZ, Woodbine Operational Area,
30th July, 3061
1200 hours (2000 hrs on local 28 hr cycle)

“Seriously, what is this nonsense?” Anastasia almost shouted in annoyance.

“Ana!” Venice chided. “Shhh, quiet!”

“Come on, this is ridiculous.” Anastasia slouched into her seat, fuming. “This guy should be confessing his love right now!”

On Venice’s other side, Selina Seydoux was largely succeeding in holding in her laughter at Anastasia’s scathing live commentary. Since the Day of Honour, she had quickly recovered from the fright of that day, helped along by the mental resilience of youth and the support of her friends. She had also thawed towards Anastasia, and now hung out quite frequently with the other two ladies, and they were often joined by the other ladies who were at the tea party, members of what Anastasia internally had categorised as ‘Venice’s Clique’.

Anastasia continued to rant, “Why doesn’t he summon up the courage to say how he feels? He’s just hiding and watching her! What is wrong with him?”

“Ana, pipe down!”

The performers on stage were moving around, the female lead singing while the male lead peaked out from behind a curtain, but in a manner obvious to the audience.

“When is he going to stop hiding how he really feels about her? And why is he peeping at her from behind? So creepy!”

“Pffft!” Selina could not hold it in anymore, and burst into audible giggles.

“Lady Seydoux, not you too!” Venice lamented. She quickly turned to Anastasia. “Ana, this is a performance of one of the most famous and popular operas ever.”

“Urrgh, I seriously can’t stand it. Even shopping for jewellery would be less painful than this.”

“You really hate it that much,” Venice coaxed her gently. “At least try to focus on the plot, the story is reaching its climax soon.”

“Urgh…” Anastasia groaned, trying to clamp down her irritation. She should have thought twice before joining Venice for the opera. But she had never been to one, so no harm trying it, quiaff?

It was some inane love story about an unfortunate man who fell in love with a female noble, set against the Davion Civil War, before even the Star League was formed. Judging by the packed house and that many in the audience had already seen it before, according to Venice, it was very popular.

Anastasia just could not understand exactly why it was popular. If this was the sort of pap served up to Spheroids, it was a miracle they were not more addle-headed than they already are!

Both leads were on stage now, singing their hearts out, the female main character still oblivious to the male character’s feelings, while the male character bemoaned his fate, to fall in love with the woman he had grown up with, who just viewed him as a sibling instead of a romantic partner.

The man tried to embrace his love, but she soon pulled away because she did not understand his feelings. As she turned away, he drew his gun to shoot her in the back, crying that he wished their embrace had lasted forever.

Incensed, Anastasia could not stand it anymore, “You dirty st…”

“Ana!” The rest of her clan epithet was thankfully cut off by Venice’s desperately stretched hand grabbing her mouth.

After the show was over, Anastasia was still fuming, pacing the hallway as the ladies stood around chatting with one another.

Venice sighed. “Was it really so bad you had to start cursing in the midst of the performance?”

“It was absolutely trash,” Anastasia griped, “If this is how operas are, I’m never watching one ever again.”

“But Ana!”

“Oh no no no!” A man’s voice called out to them. “Not all operas are like this one!”

That voice… The ladies turned to see Raymond Haynes strut up to them.

“There’re operas about lots of different stuff. There are the traditional Italian ones, of course. Then the more contemporary ones after humanity’s exodus from Terra, like the one you just watched. Their plots can be very diverse!”

Venice, polite as ever, curtseyed to him, quickly followed by the other ladies as they took her lead. “What brings you here, my lord?”

“Ahh, I snuck out of the palace in secret to watch the opera, of course! Unfortunately, I wasn’t able to focus on it since listening to Lady Kalinska’s running commentary was too entertaining!”

That annoyed Anastasia, and she glared at him in response.

“You seem to be in a bad mood. Perhaps because the ending was so tragic?” Raymond smirked, “I can empathise. I also tend to feel a bit out of sorts after seeing a tragedy. But there’s nothing wrong with occasionally using sadness as a form of entertainment, don’t you think?”

He continued, “Couldn’t such a heartrending love-hate relationship also be seen as a beautiful tragedy?”

Anastasia clenched her fists, trying to clamp down on her anger. “I don’t know… can tragedy ever be considered beautiful?” These Spheroids were so addled by their weird notions that they could not even think properly!

“Pardon?” Raymond blinked.

“It’s the story of a pathetic man who chose to murder a woman who’s too good for him because he felt inadequate in comparison to his romantic rival.” She ground out. “It’s not a tragedy caused by one’s family or by duty to one’s country, but rather a tragedy of his own making.”

A chill ran through the gathered nobles at Anastasia’s assertion.

“Well, you’re not wrong,” conceded Raymond. “But my lady, don’t you think that man also had his reasons? One often tends to become a coward with things they hold dear.”

“What?” Anastasia was getting really annoyed with these Spheroids and their twisted logic. She recognised her own upbringing in the Clans as being very different, since people of the Clans tended to be direct in their affections, and the very idea of being cowards with things they treasure was alien to their culture. That said… “So you think he was justified in killing someone that dear to him?”

“Death…” Raymond tried to explain, “...is the most powerful expression of resentment. Both in fiction and real life.”

“Meanwhile,” Anastasia countered firmly, “that poor woman was deprived of her life and her future simply because he wanted to express his resentment. How does that even make sense?”

“Oh…” Raymond blinked. “When you look at it that way, he did create the tragedy himself. I’ve never thought of it like that before. Interesting… this was a very enlightening conversation.”

“Goodness, I’ve never considered it from that angle either,” said Venice, deep in thought. “Come to think of it, Luskin Redford spoke about something similar in one of his poems.”

Raymond’s eyes lit up. “Are you referring to his new book? The one you purchased at the bookstore the other day?”

“Yes, that’s right.”

The conversation thankfully veered away from the opera to discussion of literature Raymond and Venice both enjoyed.

Anastasia still could not let go of the torrid emotions flooding her though. It was just an opera, but the story of a man who loved a woman yet was not able to confess his love, and then he had the temerity to resent and then kill her for his own failings? That was all kinds of messed up.

And of course, the reason why it resonated with her was the manner of the woman’s death - shot in the back. Just like the last moments of Avryl Showers.

Sigh… I am exhausted from all this thinking and reminiscing. All I want to do is go home and rest. She could feel a throbbing headache coming on.

“Ana!” Somebody called out.

She turned and was surprised to see Finn walking up to her. For once, he was not dressed in the dress uniform of the military, but rather a nondescript jacket.

“There you are,” he smiled at her.

“What’s this?” She felt a twinge of suspicion. “Have you been stalking me?”

“Woah!” He held up both hands, “Didn’t you message me a few days ago that you would be attending the opera with Lady Codina?”

“Oh…” Aff, she did. But then again, how did he know which opera she would be watching? There were a number of other shows at the same time… She failed to notice the looks of amusement on Raymond and Venice’s faces.

“Ahem,” Finn harumphed to get her attention. “If you don’t mind, my lady, would you like to stroll for a bit with me?” He extended a hand to her.

“Huh?” Anastasia did not quite understand what he was implying.

“Oh goodness me!” Raymond exclaimed. “It seems I’ve been interrupting this lovely couple’s precious time together.” Finn flinched a bit. “Lady Codina, I think it’d be best for us to make ourselves scarce.”

“Oh my,” Venice replied, almost in sync with Raymond, “You’re quite right. I feel terrible about nearly disrupting Viscount Rason’s plans!”

“Rest assured, my lady,” Raymond grinned, “Viscount Rason is not so narrow minded as that.”

Venice smiled back, almost as sincerely. “Indeed, his actions are simply a sign of the sheer depth of his affections. I know that all too well.”

Raymond offered Venice his hand, “Given the late hour, please allow me to walk you to your vehicle.”

Anastasia was puzzled at their behaviour. What is with these two? She did not notice Finn’s frown at how they were subtly making fun of him.

 

Venice and Raymond walked down the hallway leading to the vehicle pickup point.

Venice thought, I thought he’d engage me in conversation about all kinds of things along the way, but he’s being surprisingly quiet…

“Lady Kalinska has sure changed a lot, hasn’t she?” Raymond finally broke the silence, offering her a smile.

“Pardon?” She looked up at him.

“I was wondering if anything significant might have happened to cause such a drastic change in her.”

Venice replied, “Well, consider just how much she has suffered. Even her life had been threatened on more than one occasion. After all that, is it so surprising that she should change so much?”

She offered him a sly grin, “And as I’m sure you know, the rumours, her position, and everything else about Lady Kalinska is now changing.”

“Ahhh, I see. In that case, of course she’s bound to change, isn’t that so?” The lens of Raymond’s spectacles glinted sinister with moonlight. “By the way, I’m curious as to why a person who’s stayed on the sidelines up to this point is now trying to get close to Lady Kalinska. Perhaps you’re trying to win the favour of the future Viscountess Rason?”

Venice paused, gathering her thoughts before replying. “Speaking of which… I’m also rather curious. Why are you so interested in Lady Kalinska, Sir Haynes?” She turned to him with a bright smile, “Oh! Is it possible that you…”

Raymond startled, “My lady, please don’t misunderstand! I’d rather give up on love entirely than go after Vscount Rason’s fiancee. As you know, he’s very possessive and scary!”

“Of course.” Venice beamed. “Please forgive me, my lord. It seems I’ve read too many novels recently and let my imagination get the better of me.”

He smiled at her. “Oh dear. It sounds like a thinly veiled criticism of me for having an overactive imagination.”

“My word! I would never dream of criticising you, my lord!” She maintained her smile. It was clear to her that Raymond Haynes and herself were cut from the same cloth, keeping their true intentions veiled under various guises. In her case, it was the noble lady’s mask, while for him, it was the awkward bookworm. And he has realised it as well. All the supposedly coincidental encounters were actually intentional. Does he actually have feelings for Anastasia?

“We’ve reached the vehicles, my lord.” Venice said. The waiting vehicles with their chauffeurs moved up to the pickup point, while the waiting valets smoothly opened the doors for the nobles to enter.

“That’s a shame,” Raymond remarked as he led her to her waiting vehicle. “I wish I could’ve had a chance to spend some more time with you, my lady.”

“Oh! I had no idea my lord regarded me so favourably.”

He smirked at her in response, stepping back as the valets closed the door. House Codina, a Viscount holding, was a powerful and politically neutral family that had not publicly supported Renard yet… A lady I would like to make my own.

Raymond stared at Venice’s vehicle as it drove off, plans slowly coming into shape in his mind.

 

There was a park near the opera theatre, softly illuminated by fluorescent lamps. Finn slowly led Anastasia through the park.

He asked, “You looked rather upset earlier. Did something happen?”

“Huh?” A thought occurred to Anastasia. Come to think of it, I started feeling better ever since Finn showed up… I wonder why?

She explained, “I was just upset about the plot of the show.”

He nodded. “”Agreed. The story is so idiotic. I found it a struggle to stay seated and watch it all the way through.”

She looked at him in surprise.

“My father forced me to watch it just before I went off to Kilbourne. If I recall correctly, it was the story of a pathetic man who never gathered up his courage to confess to the woman he loves and instead ends up killing her.” He looked at her. “Is it different from how I remember it?”

She shook her head. “No! You’re completely correct. Those were exactly my thoughts. It’s just… I find it detestable.”

“Is that right?”

“To me, it is merely a sordid tale of a pathetic man who, too cowardly to confront his romantic rival directly, torments the female lead instead. Did you think so too?”

“I did!” He grinned. “And I couldn’t understand how the woman could ever love a pitiful man like him. Did you think the same?”

She pointed a finger at him in affirmation. “Exactly!”

He continued, “It isn’t a tragedy, but a retelling of the pitiful life of a spineless fool. You probably considered it a grievous waste of time.” He barked a burst of laughter.

“That’s right!” She laughed along in response.

Finn suddenly had an epiphany, and sobered up from his mirth, looking at her seriously. “Still, now that I think about it, I suppose I can understand to some extent why the man couldn’t say anything to her.”

“Huh? What do you mean?”

“Not only does confessing your love reveal what’s in your heart. But by doing so, you may also unwittingly impose your feelings on the object of your affections.” His tone was solemn. “And that can be a heavy burden for them to bear.”

She stared at him in surprise.

“Do you understand what I am saying?”

“Uh… I think you’re overthinking things, “ she frowned at him, “if you like someone, either admit your feelings to them or give up on them. And if they reject you, just try to persuade them with your charisma until they do end up returning your affections.” At least, that was how it was in the clans. “And if that doesn’t work, you’ll simply have to find somebody else.”

Her reply seemed to stun Finn, who stared wordlessly at her.

“Hmph…” Anastasia turned away from him. “I don’t understand how anyone would constantly hang around the person they care about without ever saying a word about how they feel.”

Finn looked at her wordlessly for a while, then said, “I thought you had been in love before, with Renard Haynes. So why does it seem as though you are even more inept than me when it comes to matters of the heart?”

How can he make such a rude comment with complete nonchalance? The audacity of this idiot… Flustered, Anastasia replied, “Hmmm… I’m not sure. But like you said, I understand that it’s impossible to shed your feelings so easily.” She faced him squarely. “But not confessing to the object of your affections, simply because you have a lot to lose, ultimately means you’re just afraid of the responsibility you may have to bear as a result of your words.” In the clans, if they felt somebody was attractive, they would just go straight up and ask to couple, with none of this dancing around that the Spheroids seem to be so fond of, especially with their emphasis on romance and love.

She continued, “If you’re unwilling to shoulder that responsibility, you shouldn’t linger around the person in question. Rather, better to let them go. Wouldn’t you agree?”

“Then…” Finn tensed up a bit, “what would you do if somebody you didn’t love confessed to you?”

“Huh?” She looked puzzled. “I would just tell them I didn’t feel the same way. What’s the problem?”

He pressed further. “But what if they continued to stay close to you afterwards?”

She shrugged. “Then I’d just cut them out of my life. It’d be irritating to have to keep dealing with them.”

He gulped. “You mean, as you did with Renard Haynes?”

She raised an eyebrow at him. “Yeah, I guess so. Why?”

He did not reply, deep in thought. It’s not unexpected, but she truly is the uncompromising sort. Whether it’s an engagement or a marriage, if it is something she does not desire, she clearly won’t hesitate to break it off.

“Finn?”

Should I be content with having her as my fiancee? He sighed, then said, “Ana, there’s something important I need to tell you.”

“What is it?” She looked concerned.

He gritted his teeth. “Well… you said you’d leave the investigation of the hoverbike incident to me, but… I’m sorry.”

“Nothing came out of it, right?” She said knowingly.

He clenched his fists. “Yes. Nobody was brought to account or to take responsibility for the incident.”

Anastasia let out a puff of air, “Oh, is that all you were trying to say? There’s no need to worry about that anymore.”

“Huh?”

“That was according to my father’s wishes, right?” She moved her hands up in a ‘what can you do’ gesture. “That’s probably what my father wanted. Like I said, I’m well aware that my father is a member of the faction that supports Renard, same as the Auberts. Besides, Lady Aubert has already paid the price… in a way. That’s good enough for me.”

He looked at her glumly, trying to control his distress. How much did she endure to become like this? Why would someone who pretended to be fine, even in a situation like this, attempt to take her own life?

Dammit! Finn cursed inwardly. “Lady Kalinska, if this is all too much for you to handle, we could rush our…”

Before he could complete his sentence, she cut him off. “By the way, what happened to the hoverbikes?”

He blinked, thrown off by her question. “The hoverbikes?” He quickly regained his equilibrium. “The sabotaged hoverbike has been fixed. As for the one you actually used, I got the engine replaced after you almost wrecked the old one by overboosting it. If you liked it so much, I can gift you the hoverbike…”

“Really?” her eyes sparkled with delight. “After that incident with the hoverbike showed off my skill, my father has finally agreed to let me ride on my own!”

Finn flinched from her sheer happiness, and as he stared at her lips, he was suddenly reminded of the cheesy lines from Raymond’s romance novels, describing a passionate kiss. Have I finally gone off the deep end? Get hold of yourself, Finn Rason! Confessing your feelings now is NOT an option!

Before he could react, he felt her cool hand on his forehead, bringing him back to the present.

“I’ve been calling you for a while now, but you seem out of it. Are you feeling unwell?” Her hand was on his forehead, and she had stepped up right in front of him, standing so close.

“Oh, uhm,” he quickly thought up an excuse, “I had to stay up all night yesterday because of work.”

She nodded, as though understanding what he was talking about. “Staying up all night with no sleep? Being a Viscount and commanding the Trivet’s defences is a lot of administrative work.” She withdrew her hand slowly.

He decided to take advantage of the situation. “Yeah, I’m so tired it’s hard to even stand.” He leaned down against her, resting his chin on one of her shoulders, eliciting a puzzled “Huh?” from her.

“Please excuse me for a moment.” His arms wrapped around her thin waist, and squeezed lightly. He relished the sensation, the feeling of closeness with her.

“You’re pretty weak for a mechwarrior,” she commented, drawing another flinch out of him. “I don’t think you have a fever though.”

“Uh huh.”

“All right, fine. Even warriors can get sick from time to time,” she patted him on his back, while he breathed in her scent, a mix of floral spiciness that she seemed to have made her own.

They stood there for long moments, the wind rustling through the garden, bathed in the soft glow of the lamps.

Finn finally raised his head, then tilted it to look at Anastasia.

“What is it?” she asked.

“It’s nothing.” His arms reluctantly slid away from her.

“Finn, you’re acting so strange today,” she chided him gently.

Didn’t she feel anything from the close physical contact? Does she feel anything for me at all? He wondered. I keep wanting more and more with her.

He had realised one thing. That to care for someone and give their heart to that person, but knowing those feelings were not reciprocated would make them feel lonely. If Anastasia Kalinska would love another person other than him… would he still be able to end things with her and divorce her like they had originally planned?

His heart fluttered when he looked at her. He now attached meaning to every little thing she did, and he felt incredibly jealous of everybody else she interacted with. If anybody had asked him if it was possible for him to let go of her now… he would not be able to do it.

Many people had been driven to the brink by jealousy, and there were many who made foolish and terrible mistakes, committing selfish and violent acts, in the name of love. He hoped he wouldn’t go the same way.

“Are you sure you’re fine?” She asked tentatively.

He managed a smirk. “Are you worried about me?”

She nodded, “Well, yes.”

That brought him some clarity. Not only am I fearing things that haven’t happened yet, but I’m making Ana worry. And she does worry about me!

That realisation made him chuckle slightly. “I’d like to keep strolling for a little while longer, if that’s alright with you?” He extended a hand to her.

“Do you need me or something?” She smirked. “You’re not going to collapse, are you?”

“If that should happen, I would be honoured if you’d lend me the use of your shoulder once again.”

She laughed. “Okay! But it’ll cost you. Hoverbikes might not be enough! I might ask for a mech instead!”

“Definitely not an assault, but maybe a light instead?” He joked back as she took his hand in her own. Nothing has happened yet. For now, at least.

 

Anastasia felt strangely disappointed on the way back home, though she could not exactly pinpoint why she felt that way. It started the moment she separated from Finn, and she found it really inexplicable.

It was pretty late, almost 2600 hrs on the local cycle, when most people were already at home getting ready to sleep.

She stared out the windows of the hoverlimo as it sped down the highway back to the Kalinski estate.

Her mobile phone rang, and she picked it up. Who could be calling so late?

“Hello, this is Anastasia Kalinska. Who is this?”

“Hawise here. We are all in.”

Anastasia smiled.

----------------------------
Naughty Finn! Naughty, naughty Finn! The chinese have a colloquialism for this - eating tofu (吃豆腐).

And of course, as a former officer herself, Anastasia knows all about the burdens of paperwork.

Most of this chapter was copied from the original webtoon, with slight modifications. These chapters are generally the easiest to write, adapt a bit here and there.

[The Wobbly Guy]

Codina Estate, Inman,
Milligan PDZ, Woodbine Operational Area,
2nd August, 3061
2000 hours (1600 hrs on local 28 hr cycle)

“Ah choo!” Venice sneezed daintily, the sound muffled by the handkerchief she hurriedly raised to her face. “I get like this when there are too many flowers around,” she sighed to Anastasia.

She even sounds congested, Anastasia thought as she looked over her friend in concern. Meanwhile, the Codina estate’s servants bustled around, getting everything in place for the celebratory banquet.

“But I can’t bring myself to get rid of all the flowers. It’s really quite the dilemma.” Venice patted her nose, trying to maintain the decorum of a lady.

Anastasia smiled gently at her friend, understanding the predicament somewhat. Allergies… I know the feeling. It used to be a frequent concern for me whenever I had to go outfield to places with lots of pollen, and I had to take those fexofenadine tablets to get it under control. Sigh, one of the few problems the scientists could not remove from the Showers bloodline. One of the good things about this new body is that pollen no longer affects me.

From what she found out, Inman had a very limited pharmaceutical industry, only producing the most common drugs for consumption. The more specialised drugs were produced on Delacambre, but even then fexofenadine was too low on the priority list for production.

“More importantly,” she said to Venice, “if you’re not careful, you’ll wipe your makeup off with all that sneezing.”

“Pardon?”

“Oh, because whenever you sneeze, you keep having to cover your face with a handkerchief.” Venice was staring at her intently, so Anastasia did not know what to make of her expression.

“No,” Venice finally beamed, “I understand exactly what you mean. I’m simply impressed you said something very ladylike just now.”

“Oh, really?” Anastasia laughed weakly, chagrined and wondering if she should be flattered or insulted by that remark. “By the way,” she gestured to the lavishly decorated ballroom and the busy servants in an attempt to change the subject, “you said this was all for your eldest brother’s birthday celebration? I didn’t realise there were so many things that went into organising a birthday party.”

Venice brandished a noteputer showing a long and detailed checklist scrolling across the screen, “Indeed, I invited you over here so you could see the preparations firsthand.”

“So what you’re saying is… that I need to be able to prepare something like this too?”

“Of course,” Venice chuckled, “and let’s not forget, your own birthday is coming up soon. You need to start on the preparations yourself, since you don’t have a sibling to do it for you.”

Anastasia sighed. Ughhh… Even thinking about it gives me a headache. And I thought the logistics for organising a deep raid into the Draconis Combine was bad. This is worse!

“Ana, what’s the matter?” asked Venice.

“It’s just… I feel like all I’ve been doing is playing at being a lady.” Anastasia shuffled her feet, feeling uncertain. It was times like this that drove home the point that she was simply playing a role she had been thrust into, and it still felt so unnatural to her.

“What? I don’t think that’s true at all,” countered Venice. “Think about it. You’ve been trying your best to live as a lady all this time. You went out every day to look at dresses and jewellery in order to develop your own personal style. You frequently attend tea parties and socialise with others. And not too long ago, you started expanding your cultural knowledge by reading literature and attending performances.” She grinned and added, “Even if you complain as to how you can’t stand them.”

“Oh, that.” Anastasia glimpsed a reflection of herself in a nearby glass panel, “I suppose you’re right, but…” She fingered one of the jewels on the necklace around her neck. When will I finally be able to reach Pence? She sighed.

Venice asked, “That sigh… is that because of the goals we talked about before? You said you wanted to really live as a lady of the aristocracy, but you didn’t explain why. I figured you would tell me eventually.”

“Huh? Well, I’m sorry I can’t tell you yet…” Anastasia felt very apologetic, but it was also for Venice’s own safety. Besides, if she revealed her need to seek vengeance on Pence, then it would open up the can of worms of why she had to do so.

Venice simply nodded. “I understand there must be some things you find it hard to reveal. If you ever need to, you know you can rely on me, and maybe even the other ladies too.”

They stood in comfortable silence for a while. Anastasia then asked, “Hey Venice, what does a woman need to do to have power over a man?”

“Hmmm…” pondered Venice. “Generally, she should marry a man with a higher social status than her target. A woman’s power is generally determined by the family to which she belongs. There are exceptions though, like the women who will inherit their titles. Like Richelle Aubert, or even yourself. But Richelle will be a Viscountess, while you’re only a Barony.”

Anastasia already figured as much, but it was frustrating to have it confirmed by Venice. “So no matter how talented a woman is, there’s nothing she can do to accomplish anything on her own?” Are we back to the Medieval Ages?

“Actually… how many people do you think are able to accomplish anything solely by their own power?” Venice smiled weakly. “And ultimately, that power is just power delegated to us by the consent and will of the people, based on the Six Liberties.”

Anastasia blinked. The Six Liberties were something unique to the Federated Suns, and even today, the basis for the Federated Commonwealth: the rights to personal liberty, to own property, to own weapons, to expect fair treatment, to privacy, and to participate in planetary government.

“But of course, with enough force, it’s possible to wield power over others by the most primitive method of all… violence. I’ve heard it said that the battlemech is the modern expression of that ancient latin phrase - ultima ratio regum - the last argument of kings.” She sighed. “But that avenue is closed to us.”

Anastasia thought there were some holes in Venice’s logic, since she was a qualified mechwarrior herself, even if nobody else other than Hawise knew it.

“Oh!” Venice’s eyes lit up in intrigued interest, “Could it be that you’re trying to seek revenge on Renard Haynes?”

“What?” Anastasia flinched. “No! I don’t want to have anything to do with him anymore!”

“Do you truly have no feelings left for Baron Haynes?” Venice grinned.

“I told you,” grimaced Anastasia in disgust, “I feel absolutely nothing for him at all.”

“Then I’m curious… exactly who is it that you wish to wield power over?” Venice gasped. “Don’t tell me… Viscount Rason?”

“What are you talking about?” Anastasia startled again. “It’s not like that!” This is not some engagement revenge drama or anything like that! Absolutely not!

“Then,” Venice said slowly, “isn’t Viscount Rason exactly the kind of person you need?”

“What do you mean?”

“What I mean is…” Venice explained carefully, “Ana, just how many other nobles in the Trivet do you think are comparable to Viscount Rason?”

“Oh.” Anastasia nodded in understanding. She is right, but… to accept my fate as a mere lady, to accept that the only thing I can do is to study and be a good wife for Finn… I knew all this already, but still… how disheartening. It was sheer anathema to her own upbringing as a clan mechwarrior, but her choices felt so limited.

“So if I marry Finn, will he do what I ask of him?”

Venice smiled, “Of course he would! It’s what his wife wants.”

His… wife? For some reason, that title really struck Anastasia for the first time. She knew Finn was not a bad person, as honourable as Spheroids go. He would listen to her and try to honour her wishes. If she asked him to kill Pence, he would probably try to do so, even if she could not explain her reasons for why she wanted Pence dead

But true honour demanded that she obtain her vengeance by her own hands, not through a proxy.

If I told him that I was Avryl… would he believe me? What kind of expression would I see on his face? How would he react? And if he found out I had deceived him all this time, will we face off again on the battlefield, like we used to? For some reason, that last thought was so distressing she did not want to think about it anymore.

“Come to think of it,” Venice’s voice interrupted her thoughts, “you said Viscount Rason would also be attending today’s event, didn’t you?”

“Yes…?” Anastasia had sent a message to check with him the day before, and he had confirmed his attendance then.

“Oh dear,” Venice winced, looking worried. “This is bad.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, Sir Spencer Larouche is also expected to attend.”

Anastasia frowned despite herself. Pence is coming here?

“Things between the two of you must be a bit awkward after what happened at that tea party. I’ll set up a private lounge you can escape to after you’ve said your greetings. I’ll get Viscount Rason to do the same when he arrives.”

“I’m sorry,” Anastasia sighed, “You expressly invited me so that I could observe how to properly host an event like this, but now…”

Venice smiled, “There’s nothing to be sorry about. Rather, I want you to take notice of how your social standing has changed since what happened on the Day of Honour.” Her smile widened. “That’s more than enough for me.”

“Huh?” Anastasia blinked in confusion.

 

“Lady Kalinska, how lovely to see you.”

“Oh my! Those jewels you’re wearing suit you so well.”

“You’re an absolute vision today.”

“I’m so glad about having the opportunity to talk more with you. I’ve regretted the fact that we hadn’t really been able to before.”

“Indeed, I must confess, we did find it a bit difficult at first to approach you, Lady Kalinska.”

Why are all these ladies suddenly acting so friendly? Unexpectedly the centre of attention, Anastasia tried to respond as graciously as she could remember to each lady who greeted her, engaging in inane small talk, returning their compliments by praising their clothes, their hairstyles, their perfumes, her mind scrambling to recall all the little details that Venice had told her before about each lady. This is exhausting! Is this what Venice meant? I do not hate it exactly, but… this is really tough!

Engaging so many ladies in small talk, one after the other, Anastasia could literally feel her old self wilting away, in a situation Avryl was never suited for. It is difficult to keep giving the correct responses with so many eyes on me!

“Lady Kalinska,” Selina interjected gently, “while it’s good to socialise, let’s say hello to Sir Codina first? At this rate, you won’t even get to see the man of the hour before the party’s over.”

“Oh, you’re right. Please excuse me, ladies.” Grateful for the reprieve, Anastasia allowed Selina to pull her away from the thing of ladies. She whispered, “Thank you for saving me, Lady Seydoux.”

Selina whispered back, “Greetings may be basic etiquette, but it’s also important to know how to extract yourself from a conversation gracefully. Didn’t you know that?”

“Hehe,” Anastasia giggled weakly, “I’ll keep that in mind. Thank you.” She was glad Selina Seydoux was now firmly in her corner. Many good things had come out of Richelle’s botched sabotage attempt.

“It looks like the Viscount is almost finished giving his greetings. Come on, Lady Kalinska!” urged Selina.

Anastasia looked up to see Viscount Drake greeting Sir Virgil Codina, Venice’s eldest brother. The Viscount said, “I have no doubt that House Codina will blossom into a magnificent flower garden of the Federated Commonwealth. May God’s glory and honour always be with you and your family.”

His greetings given, the Viscount started to turn away for the next person in line. “If you’ll excuse me…” And then he simply walked past her as though she was invisible.

Hmm… even though I am his niece, he did not bother taking the time to greet me, since my father is not with me. It was as though she did not exist in his eyes at all.

An unpleasant sensation swept through her, similar to how the original Anastasia had felt about Richelle. A warning of sorts?

She walked towards Virgil Codina, but in her mind she was trying to communicate with Anastasia. You know, Anastasia, since you would not answer me, all I can do is make my best guesses based on your feelings. But as long as I am in your body, if I have to keep going through things like this…

She curtseyed gracefully to Sir Virgil. I will no longer be simply swept away by your feelings.

Then Anastasia smiled brightly, “Happy birthday, Sir Virgil Codina.”

“Thank you.” Sir Virgil was pleasant enough in his looks, blond like the rest of his siblings, and looked significantly more mature than his younger brother Vince. From what Venice told her, Virgil was a senior official in the local department of home affairs, and influential within the government. Anastasia could sense the slightest tinge of danger rolling off him. This man could be dangerous, but he has no reason to be hostile. Let us not give him one.

He continued smoothly, “This is the first time I’ve ever had the pleasure of receiving birthday greetings from you, Lady Kalinska.”

Anastasia replied just as smoothly, “Oh my, I will be sure to deliver them every year from now on.”

“Really?” He grinned. “I’m already looking forward to it. It seems you are all everybody’s talking about these days.”

“Is that so?” She tried to look innocent and demure.

“Of course. I’ve also heard about what happened at the Day of Honour. I’m just sorry I wasn’t there to see your daring rescue.”

Anastasia laughed weakly in response. So a woman in danger is just entertainment to you? I have no idea what anybody at this party is thinking. Do they have screws loose or something?

All this was far more tiring than mech combat. She really felt mentally drained. She curtseyed to him again, “Then, I shall take my leave and go find your sister.”

He smiled, “Certainly. I suppose I should attend to my other guests. Thank you for your birthday wishes.”

Anastasia felt a bit better, since she had successfully navigated the party and given her greetings to the birthday celebrant. She thought she should head to the private lounge reserved for her before she ran into Pence.

Exchanging soft greetings and small talk with ladies she encountered on the way, she spotted Venice, who was standing near a corner. There was a figure next to Venice, mostly hidden behind the wall. Wait… I recognise that unsettling silhouette! Raymond Haynes again? What is he doing here? I feel like I see him more often than Finn these days…

But if Raymond Haynes was here, then presumably… She turned around, hoping to catch a glimpse of Finn’s red hair. The two men often appeared together. Despite Finn’s protests and constant griping about Raymond, she was sure they were friends despite it all.

So why is Finn not here yet? He usually tends to show up on time, or he would even be early if he felt it necessary. He is always around when I needed him… Wait a minute, why am I… still standing around, waiting for him? When did I get so used to having him around? The realisation was disconcerting.

She heard approaching footsteps behind her, and she spun around with a smile, “Finn, what took you so long…”

Her voice trailed off when she saw a glaring Pence Lamongue.

“My lady,” he sneered, “So pleasant to see you again.”

She stepped back from him. “How can I help you, Sir Larouche?”

He glowered at her for a moment, before he schooled his features into a neutral expression. “There’s something I would like to speak to you about. The last time we met, we had quite the disagreement. I thought you might feel uncomfortable seeing me again, so I wanted to put your mind to ease.”

She raised an eyebrow, surprised. “Are you sure? Even though I insulted you in such a manner?”

“Yes, I am certain. I have nothing to gain with this misunderstanding, and your…” he paused for a while, as though searching for the correct word, “...newfound popularity may yet affect me. So I simply wish to make this issue go away.”

Anastasia understood. Venice and Madame Iris had drummed into her the cardinal of high society - never make any enemies, not to display one’s true emotions, but hide them deep down, and always arm oneself with a smile.

“How kind and forgiving of you, my lord,” she replied with a smile. But we both know this is a load of surat shit. But appearances have to be maintained, so I will play along for now.

“Kind? Not at all.” He returned her smile. “It is simply because you weren’t entirely wrong. So, shall we put that unpleasantness behind us?”

“Yes, of course.” She tried not to tense up too much. Pence, easy for you to say all this. She needed to leave. “I think I’d be going then. My friend is waiting for me.”

Pence stepped towards her. “But I’d like it very much if we could talk a bit longer.” He took another step. “You see, I’d like us to become a lot closer.” He leaned forward into her personal space.

Anastasia stepped back, trying not to glare at him.

“Are you sure you’re not still avoiding me?” He taunted her.

She felt trapped. Why is he so pushy? How do I extract myself from this situation? Stravag, this must be his way of taking revenge on me!

“Long time no see, Lady Kalinska!” Raymond suddenly called out as he walked up to them. “Oh, Sir Larouche is here too!”

“Greetings, my lord,” said Pence to Raymond.

Raymond winked surreptitiously at Anastasia. She tried not to snort. What’s with that wink? Did he come here on purpose? Although his arrival did help her extricate herself from Pence’s looming presence.

Raymond remarked, “In the past, you don’t usually come to events like this. But now you seem to be attending quite a few these days.”

“I could say the same for you, my lord.” Pence smiled, though the smile did not reach his eyes. “There are many rumours abound…it is rather fortunate for you that Baron Haynes has been confined to the manor, is it not?”

“I simply wish to see in real life the scenes depicted in the books I’ve read.” Raymond shrugged. “And today, I’m here because I received an invitation from Lady Codina, of course.” Venice seemed to appear out of nowhere to stand next to him.

Raymond’s spectacles seemed to gleam with sinister intent. “Come to think of it, we were all gathered together in this estate not too long ago.” He smirked. “If only Viscount Rason was here as well…”

“I apologise for interrupting this pleasant conversation,” said Venice, “but Ana, didn’t you say you were feeling quite tired? Why don’t you go rest in the lounge?”

Raymond nodded. “That sounds good. Since Viscount Rason isn’t here, let me escort you there in his stead.”

“Huh?” Anastasia smiled blankly for a moment, before she understood their intent. “Oh, sure!”

In the private lounge, Anastasia could finally relax a smidgen, since it was so quiet that she could not even hear the music from the party. Thanks to Venice, I was able to escape from Pence… but what is Raymond still doing here?

She had thought he would have returned to the party immediately after escorting her, but he stood by the door, as though waiting for something.

Anastasia decided to take the initiative. “Is there something you would like to say to me, my lord? Because it certainly seems that way.”

He smiled. “Lady Kalinska… I never made a move without having solid evidence.” He stepped away from the door towards her. “I want you to know that. But even in the absence of hard evidence, there are times at which one becomes quite certain of something.” He sat down on a nearby chair. “Like right now.”

She looked at him warily. His demeanour had changed, just like before. Instead of the vapid bookworm he usually portrayed to the world, this was definitely closer to his true self, the scheming planner who hid his own martial skills.

“It can sometimes pay off to go with your instincts.” He stared at her.

“Your instincts?”

“Honestly, I still don’t have a solid lead on this. But it’s hard to get over the feeling that you don’t belong here.”

She stiffened a bit. Does he suspect the truth? It was already a shock to have Hawise guessing her real identity, but Hawise had supernatural aid, plus she had actually met Avryl before. For Raymond to guess… it should have been impossible.

“I’ve watched you ever since you started dating my brother. However, the Lady Kalinska I knew then was completely different from who you are today.” His stare narrowed in focus. “That’s when I first became suspicious.”

He continued, “Also, you suddenly began showing hostility to Spencer Larouche, even though, according to my investigations, there hadn’t been any prior contact between the two of you. Plus…” He smiled, “You recently hired a former clan warrior to be your household Weapons Master. Furthermore, there was that book about the clans in the bookstore.”

“So what is it you’re trying to say, my lord?”

“The clans. All this is somehow related to the clans and Spencer Larouche.”

She tried to stay relaxed. There was no way Raymond could have found out. Besides, if he had, he would be more specific. The hoverbike event, or the fact that she discovered he was a mechwarrior. There was simply nothing to really tie her to the clans, and even her animosity to Pence could be explained by his almost kidnapping of her on Altoona.

“You better not lie to me.” Raymond stared at her intently. “You admire the clan way of life and seek to incorporate them into your own holdings, isn’t it?”

What? She tried to keep her surprise off her face. “Uhm…” Well, he was somewhat on the right track, but his conclusion was wrong. Stop nodding like that, all self-satisfied, because you’re wrong! Oh well, if you really want to think that, I am not going to say otherwise!

“By the way, my investigation showed that your father has been diverting large amounts of money to Kilbourne. Any idea why?”

She shook her head.

“That made me wonder what he was planning. And to be honest, I’m not sure how he even got his hands on that kind of money.”

She stared at Raymond, feeling wholly out of her depth. All these were why she hated politics  and preferred to focus on battle. But like it or not, she was mired in it now.

“And…” he smiled craftily, “you admired Avryl Showers greatly, didn’t you? That’s why you were so interested in the clans. And also because she was your fiance’s rival, and could-have-been love interest. A pair of star-crossed lovers, how romantic.”

Whaaaat?!? Screamed Anastasia internally. Finn was actually interested in Avryl? Seriously? Or was it just Raymond’s way of fishing for additional information?

“So that’s why you learned things like piloting a mech and identifying mechwarriors, because you wanted to be like her.” He concluded with a smirk.

She replied, her face expressionless, “My lord, I really have no idea what you’re talking about. It would make more sense for you to ask my father about what those funds are being used for, not me.”

Raymond chuckled. “Just as I expected.”

“Pardon me?”

“If I’m asking you to come clean, I guess it’s only fair that I do the same.”

Anastasia tensed in anticipation. Could this be it?

“To put it very simply, I want to claim the Countship for myself.” He clenched his right fist in front of her, finally revealing outright his ambitions. “The Trivet will not prosper under Renard. You should know that.”

He continued, “I heard that after you nearly died, you lost your memories for a while before regaining them. You must have had a lot of regrets about how you had lived your life, and about your relationship with my brother, which was why you’ve gone through such a drastic change in personality.”

He looked so smug and self-satisfied that Anastasia felt like shoving her fist through his face and correcting all his misconceptions. Stop looking so pleased with yourself. It is almost comical how wrong you are about all of this. I will also need to crack down on any potential leaks in information once I get home. Hawise should be able to help me there.

Apparently, her newly appointed Weapons Master had decided that the security around the Kalinski estate was lacking, and was putting the security force through a brutal training regimen to toughen them up. Anastasia saw them in the morning doing a ‘Fun Run’ right after breakfast, and some of the guards were looking quite green around the gills.

“Why are you telling me all of this, my lord?”

“I trust, Lady Kalinska, that you won’t repeat this to anybody. And because,” his smirk disappeared and his tone became deadly serious, “in order to claim the Countship, I’ll need your help.”

Anastasia was perplexed. “My help? What can I…”

He cut in, “If you can do that for me, I will grant you whatever you ask as long as it is within my power to do so.”

A Trial of Grievance in a Circle of Equals against Pence, in equally matched mechs! That thought appeared in her mind, but another part advised caution.

She was pensive as she asked, “How can I help?

He answered, “My mother’s House is relatively powerless compared to the Drakes or Auberts who support Renard. I only have the support of minor nobles and some of the businesses in the Trivet.”

“I see.” She understood the strategic situation. “So you’re at a disadvantage.”

He smirked, “Don’t underestimate the power of words though. Katrina Steiner-Davion proved that, didn’t she?” He then conceded, “However, there is some truth in what you’ve said. I’m indeed at a disadvantage. Which is why I need the support of the next most powerful noble family in the Trivet.”

Criteria flitted through Anastasia’s mind as Raymond listed them. “A family with an outstanding reputation, wealthy, strong military power.”

She knew exactly which family he was referring to.

“I need the support of House Rason.” He placed his hands on the table and leaned forward. “I’d like you to persuade Finn. That’s how you can help me. Because Finn values you dearer than anybody else.”

She tried not to dwell on the implications of his words. “But why House Rason?”

“The late Viscount Rason supported me. Because he unofficially backed my claim, I was able and willing to take part in this political battle.” He sighed. “I’m sure you know this already, but Finn and I are friends. We grew up together as mechwarrior apprentices, learning the art of war from his father.”

Anastasia felt even more confused. “Then why not just ask him yourself for his support?”

“I know him very well. That’s why I also know how much he detests all this political manoeuvring. This is the one thing I would not be able to persuade him on.”

She countered, “Do you truly think I am capable of achieving something that even you cannot, my lord?”

“You’ll have to,” he nodded, “after all, you’re his fiancee. Make it so that his heart completely belongs to you…” he extended a hand, “...then bring him into this fight.” He closed his hand into a fist.

“And what if I decided I don’t want to help you?”

Raymond chuckled, “It’s not difficult to conduct a detailed audit of House Kalinski’s finances. All those irregularities would need to be justified to my father, Renard, and Viscounts Drake and Aubert. How do you think those greedy nobles will react?”

He waved a hand dismissively. “I’m well aware that such threats do not work on individuals such as yourself. You’re the type of person who has to make these kinds of decisions on your own. From this moment on, I won’t do a thing. Feel free to speak to your father about this if you wish. Of course, if Baron Kalinski were to take any action against me, I would retaliate.”

He is essentially saying I can’t tell my father about this… such a cunning freebirth. She glared at his smug visage.

Raymond was serious again. “You know well as I do, that Renard is in no way fit to inherit the Countship. I simply ask that you observe how I proceed. Judge for yourself, and make your decision. You can give me your answer then.”

I hold the key that will determine the winner of this fight. The realisation was chilling to Anastasia. And it had nothing to do with her skill in a mech, or her abilities in war. It was simply because of her position as Finn’s fiancee. In my current position, all I can do is sit here quietly and talk. That was completely at odds with her own upbringing as a clan mechwarrior.

She tried to protest, “But the struggle for the Countship has yet to begin. What exactly are you asking me to see?”

“No,” he refuted her firmly. “The struggle has already begun. Because of you, in fact.”

She looked at him in surprise.

“After my brother was confined and temporarily relieved of his duties, Viscounts Drake and Aubert began to be a lot more conscious of my father and his decisions. Can you believe that all of this happened as a result of your actions?”

“It’s not because of anything that I did, but because he tried to attack me.” She grimaced. “Anyway, I will give this matter some thought.”

“I recommend you not take too long to come to a decision. Time is finite, after all.”

“But I don’t have to give you an answer today, so I won’t.” She sighed. “I need some time to quietly organise my thoughts. Excuse me, my lord, but I think I’d like to be alone now.”

He smiled amicably. “I look forward to a favourable answer from you.”

[The Wobbly Guy]

After Raymond left, Anastasia looked out the window at the darkening skies. Does it really have to be this way? No matter what happens, there is no way for me to distance myself from Finn while in the body of a lady. Everybody keeps telling me to use Finn.

She felt sad. The reason why Finn always seemed guarded must be because this is the environment he grew up in. Because of his status and power, everybody was constantly trying to take advantage of him. The way he acts…it is all from experience. In contrast, the Finn she saw on the frontlines of Operation Bulldog seemed more carefree, less burdened.

Being a powerful noble was not always a good thing, she surmised. She slumped forward, putting her face into her hands. Things were becoming too complicated for her to deal with.

Yes, she still had her skills as a mechwarrior. But she needed a better mech and the right conditions to force Pence into battle. If only she had those, then she would have been able to exact her revenge on Pence without worrying about anything else.

This is unbearable… nothing seems clear to me anymore. What is it I really want to do? The more I think about it, the more confused I become… She tried to focus. But one thing still remains the same… my revenge against Pence, everything I do must be directed towards achieving that.

There were several knocks against the door of the private lounge. She thought it could be Venice, but if so, she would have just entered the room without dithering.

“Come in,” said Anastasia.

“I’m sorry for being late,” said Finn as he opened the door and entered the lounge.

Despite herself, she felt a bit cross with him. “Why are you so late?”

“What, were you waiting for me?”

She replied sullenly, “Yeah, a little bit.”

“Really?” He chuckled, then he took a closer look at her. “Hmmm… did something happen? You seem a bit out of sorts.”

She flinched. How could he tell? “Oh, no, it’s nothing.”

He looked dubious. “Are you sure?”

Her heartbeat sounded very loud in her chest. I was that obvious? She patted the seat next to her, trying to change the subject of the conversation. “By the way, are you going to keep standing there like that?”

Finn frowned. “I just came by to see you. I need to leave again shortly.”

“You’re leaving so quickly? What’s going on?”

“Clifton’s Rangers on Abbeville got solid intel on some pirate locations in the Periphery, but they need somebody to cover for them while they go pirate-hunting, so AFFC command is scraping up whatever is within the region. I have to take our QRF and get there as soon as I can.”

“Pirates?” Anastasia was startled. “That’s serious business! Then you should have headed straight there instead of coming here first! Why did you even come here?”

“To see you, of course.” He leaned forward, one hand brushing across the top of one of her forearms. If I said I’d come but then never showed up, you would’ve been left waiting for me.” He gently squeezed her hand.

She protested, “I wasn’t particularly waiting for…”

“Plus, I don’t think I’ll be able to see you for a while. And I’ll miss your birthday.”

“Oh.” If he is going to the near Periphery, it’ll take some time, about two months, maybe more. And depending on how fast the pirates can be cleared out, he could be away for even longer. And when is Anastasia’s birthday exactly? It seems like everybody knows except me!

Finn looked sad as Raymond’s words echoed in her head. I’d like you to persuade Finn. Make it so that his heart completely belongs to you… then bring him into this fight.

Even though he’s in a hurry, he came all the way here to tell me this in case I was waiting for him. And I am supposed to manipulate him to get my revenge? One fist clenched in anger. That would be a complete betrayal of his trust.

Yes, Finn could have just sent a text message, but she had since learned that these messages often did not convey sufficient sincerity. And she thought Finn had another reason to see her in person… her mind refused to let her finish that line of thought.

“Ana, are you sure there’s nothing the matter?”

She gritted her teeth. “Finn, there’s something I need to tell you.”

After explaining what she could of Raymond’s offer to her, Finn said, “So what you’re saying is, Raymond said I’d side with him in the fight for the Countship, if you asked me to?”

She nodded. “Yes.”

“All right, but why are you telling me all this?”

“Because I don’t want to betray your trust.” She declared adamantly. “If you found out I was asked to do something like this behind your back, then I…” she suddenly realised she could not finish her sentence. What am I even trying to say right now?

“You thought I’d be disappointed in you?” He smiled, as though he knew he was right on target.

She frantically replied, one hand springing up as if to refute him. “No, I just didn’t want you to misunderstand!”

“Misunderstand? How?”

Her hand faltered. “Uhm… If I’d chosen to keep quiet about it, you wouldn’t ever be able to trust me again, even if I treated you with sincerity.” She knew she was rambling, but she could not help it. “The idea that the person closest to you might be using you… it’s horrid!”

“Anyway…” she shouted, “I really detest that kind of dishonourable behaviour!”

He just grinned in response. “Yes, I understand what you mean.”

She mentally cringed. Argh! What am I even saying right now?

He continued, “I understand you’re saying all this because you’re being considerate of me.”

“Yes, exactly! Because I’m your fiancee!”

“Of course,” he nodded, “I know you’re not the type of person to make rash decisions. But I have no intention of being involved in any political struggle, whether it’s for the Countship of the Trivet or the Federated Commonwealth… regardless of who asks or how they ask.”

She shrugged. “I know.”

“You know? Is that it?”

“What do you mean?”

“Didn’t what I just said bother you at all? I’m effectively saying that I would refuse even if you asked.”

She tilted her head in confusion. “I’d be asking you to risk your House and your life for me. Why would I be upset about you rejecting such a preposterous request?” Besides, the Way of the Clans, the Honour Road, practically mandated that she should also put her own life on the line in such matters, and to be honest in her dealings. Asking Finn to fight on her behalf was simply wrong.

His eyes were fond as he said, “Well, I always knew you were made of sterner stuff. So what did Raymond offer in exchange for your cooperation?”

She started. “Huh?”

He clarified. “The offer he made you? Raymond wouldn’t make an ask like that without offering something in return.”

“Oh…” My revenge on Pence… But how can I tell him that?

“Is it something I can grant?”

“If I tell you what it is, will you make it happen?”

“If it is within my power, of course.”

She smiled, “That makes me happy.”

“So, what is it?”

“Huh?” She tried to act dumb.

He pressed. “I need to know what it is if I’m to help you. So?”

She glanced right, then left, then at him again, smiling all the while.

He grinned. “Smiling in lieu of answering a question… did Lady Codina teach you that?”

She spun away from him. “Well, sort of. Why? Is it strange?”

“Well, no…”

“Besides, you did the exact same thing. You showed up late and simply flashed a smile by way of apology.”

His eyes widened. “What?”

Anastasia seized on her momentary advantage. “Hmmph! You’re also taking advantage of your good looks and flashing a smile to get yourself out of trouble. Also, what is that face you’re making?”

Finn smirked. “Okay, okay! I won’t pry any further into Raymond’s offer or your wish. Still, I should actually say thank you for ensuring that I keep my faith in you, instead of just flashing a smile.” He reached out with a hand to lightly caress her head.

Before Anastasia knew it, he had drawn her into his arms in an embrace.

“Thank you for telling me. I’m sorry you had to go through that.” Finn’s voice was low and calm. “I can always tell that bastard to stop pestering you, but if I did, he might make your life even more difficult, so I won’t do anything about it now.” He squeezed her gently.

“I know, I can take care of myself.” She could not move, and for some reason, her own body did not seem like it wanted to move either.

“Even so, tell me if he threatens you again. I’ll do what I can to end it.” He sighed. “I can’t believe I have to leave after all this… my feet don’t seem to want to move.”

Anastasia blinked in confusion. What is going on? We are not in a romantic relationship or anything, and since nobody else is here, there is no need for him to play the part of the doting fiance. So why is he making such a big deal about this? Is he hugging me to reassure himself just before a combat deployment?

“Take care of yourself and come back safely.” Her hands patted his back while he was still hugging her. “Don’t die pathetically at the hands of pirates, you hear me?” Yes, Finn was an idiot, but he was still more than a match for ramshackle pirates from the Periphery, right?

“It was definitely worth coming here to see you.” He chuckled and released her. “I’ll try to send HPG messages to you, so that you’re not waiting all by your lonesome. And since I won’t be around then, happy birthday in advance.” He leaned down and kissed her lightly on her forehead.

Anastasia found herself blushing from head to toe.

Leopard Dropship Jurano
3rd August, 3061
0400 hours

They were outbound from Inman to the zenith jump point at a strained 1.5 Gees, to make up for the time lost when Viscount Rason delayed their departure so that he could visit his fiance.

Eric groaned as he stretched his body behind the desk he was using to do paperwork, while his boss was still energetically checking over the logistics for their jaunt to Abbeville.

As he cleared his own administrative tasks, Finn thought about his conversation with his fiancee.

It wasn’t that he didn’t expect Raymond to approach him. He knew just how much Raymond desired the Countship, but Raymond was more persistent than even he had anticipated. Nobles were often only spurred into action when they stood to gain or lose something. Friends, lovers, even their own family…

Since using and taking advantage of one another was always a given, even love and affection between nobles was never without shrewd calculation, and often resembled transactional exchanges instead of genuine love.

I suspected a day like this would come, but I am happy to see that I chose the right person. To think that Anastasia would come clean and tell me everything, especially since I doubt Raymond would lie to her, and he would have undoubtedly made her a tempting offer. And yet, Anastasia still chose to stand with Finn and House Rason. Of course, if it was all part of her plan to seduce Finn, that would be incredibly crafty of her.

Even if Lady Kalinska had approached him with ulterior motives, he would have been happy to do whatever she asked of him, with two exceptions - getting involved in the struggle for the Countship of the Trivet or the dynastic struggle for rule of the Federated Commonwealth. Those were the two exceptions…

Finn knew that desperately wanting something was one of the biggest weaknesses a person could ever have. Just as Raymond’s desperation for the Countship had rendered himself his own weakness, Anastasia was Finn’s biggest weakness.

He smiled grimly as he continued ploughing through his paperwork, while Eric wondered why his boss seemed so happy even as they laboured under the strain of 1.5 Gees acceleration.


Haynes Palatial Manor
4th August, 3061
2000 hours (0800 hrs on local 28 hr cycle)

Renard stood before his father in the Count’s office, wondering what had happened.

Strange. He glanced at his father. For the longest time, my father wouldn’t even grant me an audience. What could he possibly want with me all of a sudden?

“My lord…?”

Count Haynes looked at his son. He had not accomplished much during his rule of the Trivet, spending most of his time enjoying the power and wealth his position brought him. Yet even his time was coming to an end. His health was ailing, the doctors recommended that he step down soon and retire from the Countship in order to reduce the stress on himself.

“Have you reflected on your actions?” he asked Renard, his tone grim.

“Yes, my lord!” Renard grinned, realising this was his chance to regain his position and power. “I am sorry for what I did! While confined to the manor, I had the opportunity to reflect on all my past shortcomings. I now have a clear understanding of what you’d criticised about me, my lord.”

“Oh?” Count Haynes arched an eyebrow. “And what might that be?”

Renard tried to look contrite. “I failed to realise that I need to be perfect. A ruler must be perfect.” He looked at his father with conviction. “He must eliminate all who may one day stand in his way.”

“I see.” The Count nodded. “If that is the answer you’ve found, then I suppose that too may be the correct answer. Renard, as of today, the confinement order placed on you is lifted. You are now free to resume your work.”

Renard beamed with joy. “Thank you, my lord!”

“And one more thing.” Count Haynes’ eyes turned shrewd. “What do you think of your brother?”

Renard froze. “What do you mean, what do I think of my brother?”

“It is exactly as I said. I never had a chance to hear your thoughts on Raymond.”

“He’s a disgrace.” Renard just barely stopped himself from sneering. “He whiles his days away reading books. He’s a coward who can’t even look me in the eye.”

“Is that so? Hmm…”

“Why do you ask, my lord?”

Count Haynes explained, “You said but a moment ago that you must eliminate all who may one day stand in your way. In that case, wouldn’t you need to eliminate Raymond as well?”

Renard flinched a bit. “He’s not even worth killing. Even if I keep him alive, he won’t be able to do anything to me. As he poses no threat to me, alive or dead, there is no need for me to go to the trouble of killing him.” Renard gulped. Is this the answer Father wants to hear? Everybody knew that Father framed and murdered his own brother in order to ascend to the Countship… but killing his own son is an entirely different matter.

“Still, you are far too cold and unfeeling towards your one and only brother.” Count Haynes stated. “I am deeply concerned about your lack of affection for your own blood relations.”

Those words jolted Renard into attention. Dammit! Is he trying to trick me or something? What exactly does this old man want from me? And isn’t he being hypocritical? Cold and uncaring? Lack of affection? Hell, he practically destroyed his own brother to become Count!

“I… I don’t really mean that, Father. My brother and I have grown up together since childhood! How could I ever raise a weapon at him? Earlier, I was simply being rational and describing how he would need to be dealt with as a member of House Haynes. I do love him like a brother.” He raised his hands, as if imploring the Count to believe him.

“I see…”

Did he buy that? Renard tried to keep his breathing calm.

“One more thing, Renard,” said the Count, “You have received a proposal of marriage.” He pushed an envelope across his desk to Renard.

“What?” Renard blinked in surprise. Marriage? Which House could have sent the proposal? If it’s from a small insignificant family, I’ll refuse. But if it’s with a daughter of a powerful noble House, I’ll take her as my wife and keep a few mistresses on the side! He took the envelope and opened it, then read the letter inside. His eyes widened in surprise.

Renard looked up at the Count. “This marriage proposal… is this real?”

“Yes, it is. You are, of course, free to refuse it.”

Renard immediately replied, “How could I possibly refuse? An offer from this family is more than I deserve!”

The Count nodded. “As it has not yet been officially announced, you are to stay silent on the subject for the time being.”

Renard grinned. “Yes, my lord. As you command!”

--------------------------

Next few chapters are mostly political stuff, following the same trajectory as the original webcomic it was based on.

Since this is a long chapter, I might also take a break next week, whew. It's been a tough few weeks so far.

[The Wobbly Guy]

Kalinski Estate, Inman,
Milligan PDZ, Woodbine Operational Area,
28th August, 3061
0900 hours (1300 hrs on local 28 hr cycle)

“Stretch your arm out, my lady!” Lusia instructed.

“Like this?” Anastasia did as she was told.

“Yes, this is perfect!” Lusia held up different fabrics and ornaments, holding them up against Anastasia’s arm.

“Just as I thought!” the maid chirped, full of enthusiasm, “Rather than adding lace to the sleeves, we should keep the design simple and pair the dress with a ruby bracelet instead!”

“If you say so.” Anastasia suppressed a sigh. No matter how many times she had gone through fitting sessions, she still could not get completely used to it.

Seeming to sense her mistress’s mood, Luisa said, “Let’s take a break, my lady. I’ll prepare some tea for you while you rest.”

“Alright then.” Anastasia agreed. Before leaving the dressing room, she did take a good look at the unfinished dress she was going to wear on Kentares Day on the 4th of October.

Anastasia’s 21st birthday on the 13th of August had come and gone. She had opted for a small and intimate party involving just her immediate household and her closest friends, especially those from Venice’s clique. She found herself inexplicably missing Finn, but he had apparently made arrangements because a beautiful bouquet of roses with inlaid chocolates was delivered to her, much to the envy of the other ladies.

Surprisingly, Raymond Haynes did not turn up, which relieved her greatly.

She had been a bit worried about the optics of keeping the party small, but thankfully Venice had come to her rescue by spreading rumours that she had not been feeling too well due to her sudden forced separation from Viscount Rason, which prompted a flurry of sympathetic well-wishes from the rest of the ladies. Anastasia did not really like this solution or what it implied, but since it got her off the hook, she guessed she could not complain too much about it.

She made up for the small scale by organising games for the ladies she did invite, instead of just the usual tea and chatter. They played cards and charades. There was also a video gamebox that Hawise had brought from Delacambre for her children, but Anastasia borrowed it for the ladies’ entertainment.

It even included a mechwarrior simulator that could be played on several screens at once, and Anastasia had to intentionally hold back on her skills while Hawise grinned knowingly from the sidelines. The ladies squealed and cheered with glee as they struggled with the control keypads while playing the once verboten games, safe in the Kalinski estate where there would not be anybody to snitch on them for their unladylike activities, since Anastasia and Hawise had impressed upon the staff the need to safeguard the privacy of the ladies.

The event had gone off so well that the ladies were eager to visit her estate again for such activities. This indicated to Anastasia that despite all the efforts to tamp down on the ambitions of the women of the Trivet, there was still a yearning to break free from the confines of the social strata imposed upon them.

Then there was the Assumption Day festivities on 15th August, which started with a service Mass, then followed by processions, street fairs, dances, capped off by a grand feast to end the day. Anastasia initially felt sad that Finn was not able to attend, and then angry at herself for even feeling sad in the first place.

A few days ago, they also received the invitation to visit the Haynes palatial manor for the observance ceremony for Kentares Day, which included unveiling some of the new additions to the military might of the Trivet. Anastasia wondered what these additions were. Virtually every aristocrat on Inman would be attending. Her father had declined to attend, citing his exhaustion and need to rest, so she had decided to bring Hawise along in his place, since two pairs of eyes would be far better than just her one.

Hence her servants’ insistence on a new gown, despite her own protests that she did not need a new one. But while she could command them in almost everything else, Luisa and the other maids were adamant that she had to be dressed as fashionably and lavishly as possible. Anything less would reflect poorly on the household and on them. Anastasia had finally given in reluctantly.

Come to think of it, I have not heard from Finn yet, thought Anastasia, seated at her table while Luisa poured tea for her. He said he would send messages, I should have received at least one by now? She found herself fuming for seemingly no reason.

No, maybe she was just being selfish. He could be in a situation that made it difficult to send any messages out. Besides, there were not a lot of HPG stations near the Periphery, so perhaps there was no way for him to send any messages at all.

A thought occurred to her, causing her to freeze with her teacup on the saucer. What if something terrible has happened to him?

“You’re thinking about Viscount Rason now, aren’t you?” Luisa blurted brightly, causing Anastasia to start a bit, tea spilling out of her cup onto the saucer.

“N… no I wasn’t!” Anastasia denied vehemently.

“Oh, come on,” teased Luisa, “did you really think you could hide it from me?” The maid went on reassuringly, “It’s only been three weeks since he left. I’m sure he’ll write to you as soon as things have settled down where he is.”

“I told you I’m not thinking about him!” Anastasia lied unconvincingly.

Luisa chuckled knowingly, “I’m sure Viscount Rason misses you terribly too. Why don’t you think of things you can do together once he gets back?”

“Luisa,” Anastasia decided to distract her maid, “shouldn’t you be checking on the dresses?”

“Oops! My lady, I’ll be back in just a moment!” Luisa dashed off, leaving Anastasia to sigh in relief at the reprieve from her maid’s teasing.

She stared out of the window at the reddish sky. This is an unfamiliar feeling… waiting for someone… and spending the whole day thinking about them. So strange… I have never felt this before with any of the other warriors of the clan.

She cursed softly under her breath. It was all Finn’s fault for not being able to send a message to her!

Trying to shift her thoughts away from him, she realised that Venice was also late. Her friend should have arrived by then, it was well past their agreed upon time. There were no messages on her handphone either.

It is not like Venice to be late. What is going on? How unusual of her. Anastasia took another sip of her tea.

Codina Estate

“It’s not true, is it?” Venice asked desperately. “Please, tell me it isn’t true, father.” Her voice was almost breaking. “You say I’m to be married, but that doesn’t make any sense.”

Viscount Codina’s reply was cold. “What about that doesn’t make sense to you? You are of marriageable age, and we cannot postpone your marriage any longer.”

“But you’ve never said a word about it to me before today.” She tried to reason with him. “And now, you’re simply notifying me about it? Don’t I get a say in the matter?”

He sighed, “Why are you making such a fuss over this? It’s all for the good of our family.” He pinched his forehead with his fingers. “This is a great honour for the Codina family, and you should consider it as such.”

Venice cried, “What about what I want?”

“Venice! You’re a woman who’s to be married. It won’t do for you to raise your voice like this. It appears you require further education.”

Venice turned to her mother. “Mother, please say something. I do not wish to marry Renard Haynes!”

Her mother sighed identically to her father. “Venice, my child, haven’t I always told you that you need to learn to be patient… in case you end up marrying a man who’s quick to anger?”

Venice flinched. Her hands squeezed her dress. “Don’t tell me…” her voice quavered, “This has been your plan for me all along? So…” she followed the chain of logic, “so that’s why you never stopped Vince from doing what he’s done to me since I was a child?”

She spun to an inscrutable Vince Codina, standing quietly in a corner. “Because Father allowed you to…” then she turned to Virgil, who was seated at a corner of the table, “and Father ordered you to stay out of it, and you would never go against Father’s orders!”

Virgil Codina was silent for a moment, before he sighed, “Stop acting like a child, Venice. Father only has your best interests at heart.”

“My best interests at heart? I’ve seen for myself what an odious man he is! How could you expect me to marry someone like him?” Her voice choked with frustration. “Virgil, put yourself in my shoes. Could you bring yourself to marry a man like him? Besides, he was to be…”

Virgil cut her off, “We are all duty-bound to act in our House’s best interest. If you wanted to do whatever you wanted with your life, you should have refused the protections provided by the confines of our family.” His voice was as cold as her father’s. “You know very well how all this works. It’s only thanks to our family that we only enjoy these privileges. None of us can live the way we want. Neither me, who isn’t the head of our House, nor you, my father’s only daughter.”

Virgil sighed again, but his sigh this time was filled with disappointment. “Venice, I thought you were different from Vince, but it seems you’re exactly the same.” His eyes were cold and judging. “But until the day of the wedding, you’re free to do whatever you please. That’s the best we can offer you.” He walked away with a chilling finality. Her parents and Vince followed after, leaving her alone in the cold, dark discussion room.

Venice mumbled under her breath, “The best… you can offer…” She was utterly dejected.

She didn’t know how long she stayed alone in the room, but the door creaked open. The clacking of heels on the marble floor echoed through the empty room.

 

“Venice, it’s me, I’m coming in.” Anastasia called out. “You never showed up, so I decided to come over and see for myself. I couldn’t just sit around and wait… I was worried that your brother might have hurt you like he did last time.”

“And look!” Anastasia held up a box proudly. “I bought a cake from that dessert place we’ve been wanting to visit.” She looked around. “Anyway, what’s with the gloomy atmosphere? Even your butler seemed a bit down when he showed me in…”

Venice did not turn around throughout Anastasia’s entire monologue, so Anastasia gently tapped her friend on the shoulder, trying to get some response out of her.

Venice turned around slowly, revealing a face streaked with tears, her eyes swollen. “An… Ana!”

Anastasia was shocked. “What happened? What’s going on? Who made you cry?”

Venice reached out with a trembling hand, sniffling with fear. “Ana…” Anastasia clasped her hands with her own, trying to calm her down. “You have to know that I didn’t mean for any of this to happen.”

“What? What are you talking about? Calm down and tell me what happened,” said Anastasia calmly. She was tempted to raise her own voice in alarm, but she knew that trying to stay calm herself was the better choice at the moment.

Venice continued to sniffle as she said, “It’s… what you’ve wanted for so long, Ana.” Sob. “And I’ve gone and stolen it from you.”

“Huh?” Anastasia felt confused. “Venice, calm down, I’m not angry with you, nor will I be. Tell me what happened.”

“I’m to be married to Renard Haynes!” cried Venice. “Ana, I don’t want to marry him.” The chair slid out behind her, and she collapsed into Anastasia’s arms. “I truly don’t, Anastasia.”

She continued to explain between sniffles and sobs. “My father, my brothers, even my mother… they said I should be happy about becoming the most esteemed, powerful woman in the Trivet… but what’s there to be happy about?”

She squeezed Anastasia’s hands. “I’m not happy at all!” Tears trickled down her cheeks. “Besides, you and Baron Haynes were…”

Anastasia thought that aff, it was true that it was the marriage that the real Anastasia wanted. So much so that she was even willing to sacrifice her own life to get it.

But she was not that Anastasia.

“Venice, first of all, calm down.” She handed her friend a handkerchief. “How many times do I have to tell you? I lost my memories.” There was the usual slight pang of guilt behind that lie, but she pressed on. “Even if I got my memories back, I wouldn’t care. I’m not hurt, so please stop crying.”

Venice continued to weep, so she tried to cajole her a bit. “Come on, Venice, it’s okay.”

“Ana, I don’t want to marry him.” Venice sobbed. “You see… well…”

Anastasia understood all too well. “I know. You don’t actually want to marry that… ****** either, do you?” She remembered in time to use the correct Spheroid insult, sighing internally in relief at using the correct term.

Venice started a bit, then replied, “You’re right. I… have no desire to be the wife of the future Count.” Sniffle. “I thought I could stay like this for just a little longer.” Sob. “I thought my father would at least try to arrange a marriage that would make me happy.” Sniffle. “But I know better than he does just exactly what a foul man Renard really is.”

“He did such a terrible thing to you… and was laughing in your face!” Venice bowed her head in despair. “He’s the type of person who takes pleasure in hurting and bullying those who are weaker than him!” Venice blurted out, “I don’t want to be like Janet Solway!”

It took Anastasia a moment to recall the name from her lessons on Davion history - the wife of one of the earliest Davions, a political match who was abused by her husband. It was a dirty not-so-secret known to all the nobles in the realm, but never fully divulged to outsiders. In the Trivet, she was used as a warning of sorts for wives who were unable to bear and raise children for their husbands.

“And I still can’t believe my own parents are the ones pushing me into this marriage.” Sob. “I don’t know what to do…”

Anastasia looked at Venice in understanding. It was a marriage, not just an engagement, which meant Count Haynes had already approved of it. It was also kind of expected since Venice was considered the foremost lady of her generation in the Trivet, with the right looks, family background, and bearing. Anastasia cursed the social order which expected most ladies to nurture their physical beauty and cultural refinement in order to be sold to the highest bidder, so that she might land the best possible husband and essentially become a broodmare for him.

I too was arranged to be married to Finn, she thought. Of course, when we met, I made it clear that we would eventually be divorced. But do I even have the right to refuse if Finn had insisted on us staying married? What rights do I actually have as a noble lady? Even Venice, who was brave enough to stand up to Richelle Aubert at the Day of Honour, was completely helpless in this situation.

Her friend continued to sob, “There’s no one who can help me now…” Hiccup. “No one!”

Anastasia looked on sadly. “Venice, no. You don’t have to do this if you don’t want to.” She gave her friend’s hands a gentle squeeze.

“Huh? What do you mean?”

“The best person who can help you… is you.” Venice flinched. “Venice, you are one of the smartest and most capable people I have ever met.”

“But that won’t be of any use…”

Anastasia continued, “Since it’s to be a grand affair, I’m sure there is still quite a bit of time left until the actual wedding date, right?” She kept her tone calm and determined. “Until that day comes, let’s work together to find a way to get you out of this.”

Venice stared at her, tears still streaming down her cheeks. Her eyes were still full of disbelief and fear.

Anastasis pressed on. “I know we can do it, I’ll help you anyway I can.”

“But…” Venice said weakly, “we can’t stop the wedding from happening… it would bring great shame to my family and my House.”

“Your father, your family is forcing you into this marriage. So don’t worry about their reputation. If you continue to put their interests first, you’ll never be able to come up with a way out of this!”

“But!”

Anastasia squeezed her hands again, trying to give her friend strength. “Your family chose to throw you to the wolves,” she made a mental apology to Clan Wolf. They might be cunning fleabags, but at least they still had some smidgen of honour. “You don’t owe them a thing.”

“Ana…” The tears were still trickling down, but they were starting to subside just a bit.

“If you can’t see another way out, just say you’ve fallen ill. It might hurt your family’s reputation, sure, but who cares about that? It’s still better than marrying Renard!” Anastasia stated adamantly. “You are more important than your family’s honour! Don’t ever forget that.”

It was strange to say that, when the Honour Road of the clans ingrained in her emphasised the importance of honour at each level - foremost the honour of the clan, followed by honour of the caste, unit, or Bloodhouse, then finally that of the individual. However, at least in the clans, there were always avenues available to seek recourse, Trials of Refusal or Grievance. Here in the Inner Sphere, Venice had no such recourse.

She added, “Or you could always run away!”

Venice shook her head vehemently. “Ana, that’s a dangerous suggestion!

“I’ll take care of you! You could live quietly with me on Altoona!” I could also hire a dropship and make off with my mechs and volunteers from the household guards to form a new merc unit, Venice can come along. Bringing the Valkyrie here to squash Renard would also be satisfying if I knew I had a chance.

Venice chuckled through her tears. “Ana, that almost sounds like you’re proposing to me.”

Anastasia frowned slightly and released Venice’s hands. If I were the old Avryl, I would have thought her a pathetic whiner who was not putting any real effort into extricating herself from her admittedly unfortunate circumstances. Back in the clans, I was also a woman, but I had the skill and the means to effect some change, and the clans had always been egalitarian regarding the genders anyway. I would have accused her of simply being unwilling to give up the privileges she was entitled to as a noble lady.

But she could understand what Venice was going through now. These ladies were raised almost solely with the sole intent to benefit their Houses, indoctrinated their whole lives to believe that their worth laid in securing alliances and legacies for their Houses. How could they ever be able to escape that mindset?

Just as she was trained as a mechwarrior and believed that her purpose was to restore the Star League with her clan, the purpose for these ladies of noble birth was to protect and raise the honour and prestige of their families.

“Venice, I don’t think there’s anything more I can say that will comfort you right now. But there’s no need to push yourself like that.” Anastasia knelt down in front of her friend, “I’ll be by your side, no matter what choice you make. So don’t blame yourself for any of this.” You are an incredibly confident, delicate woman, and a thoughtful, intelligent friend. You shattered my preconceived notions of what it meant to be a lady. You are so dear to me, and there is still so much I could learn from you.

The cries had subsided, and Venice had calmed down noticeably. She forced a smile through her swollen face, “All right, I promise I won’t give up. Even if nothing else works and I have to resort to feigning illness.”

“Great!” Anastasia agreed brightly. And I had better get started on the paperwork, just in case!
----------------------------------------------
Notes:
Politically, it makes more sense for Renard’s supporters to get House Codina on their side rather than have him marry somebody like Richelle, since it gets them another House on their side. But in this case, it was Viscounts Drake and Aubert doing the pressure play on House Codina, and Viscount Codina was already inclined towards putting his chips (ie Venice) on what was deemed the winning side.

Let’s see what Raymond has to say about this though. Venice, of course, will also realise she still has options.

Janet Solway was the estranged wife of James Davion (2457 - 2467), 10th in the ruling line after Simon Davion. I embellished the history a bit, but here’s what is written down in ‘House Davion’ sourcebook, which, of course, is also debatable since it was written from the perspective of a Comstar researcher, who might not be privy to all the facts, and probably had a word count to worry about as well.

Though James Davion won the High Council’s approval to inherit the Crucis March Principality, he was not what he appeared to be. James had always been unhappy in his marriage to Janet Solway, daughter of the Marquess of Glenmora, which Simon had arranged to suit his political needs. Though the match had produced a son, the child died in infancy. After that, the last tenuous thread holding the marriage together snapped. James and Janet were never divorced, but James became a husband in name only-and then only when the two were in the public eye. He began a series of secret extramarital liaisons, which he flaunted more and more openly, after his accession believing himself above the laws of either planet or federation.

It’s not too difficult to surmise that James Davion probably wasn’t the most loving of husbands.

Again, this chapter was cribbed from the original work, so the structure’s largely the same.

[The Wobbly Guy]

Abbeville,
Kilbourne PDZ, Woodbine Operational Area,
14th September, 3061
0300 hours

Laser blasts hammered the pirate Stinger into a smoking heap. Finn smoothly slid his crosshairs over to the next target, an old Demolisher tank that was trying to get into range, backpedalling his Templar to open up the distance to avoid the reach of its massive autocannons.

The tank rumbled forward, desperately trying to get into range. Finn never gave it that chance, waiting for the steady tone of a confirmed lock from his targeting computer before unleashing the full power of his rotary autocannons on the enemy vehicle. The explosive shells ripped through its turret, a fiery gout of flame erupting from the tank as its ammunition stores ignited.

He hyperextended his jaw for an instant, opening the lance channel. “Sitrep?”

Uzochi replied, “My sector’s locked down. Just some jeeps with conventionals that stopped once I asked nicely.” Well, even if his mech was just a Wasp, it had more than enough firepower to wreck that force.

Raella called in next. “Got three Vedettes here. Smoked ‘em. Need some conventionals to pick up the survivors though.” Thankfully, his scout had given him ample information to position his forces appropriately. Her Dervish was best equipped to hit the Vedettes, while his own Templar could deal with the Stinger, Panther, and Demolisher force.

Finally, Josh called from his Javelin, “All clear, boss.” As their electronics warfare platform, Finn made sure to keep the Javelin and its expensive equipment away from harm.

“All right, the local garrison is moving in. We’ll let them secure the area, then move to the final target. Uzo, make sure the locals don’t rough up these pirates too much, we still need any intel they can give us. They know it too, but tempers might be a bit short around these parts given what’s happened.”

“Copy that boss.”

The whole affair had turned out to be an orchestrated event. A pirate force had leaked the information they had on a bigger rival band to draw Clifton’s Rangers off Abbeville, so that they could jump in and take advantage of the weakened defences.

Fortunately, the CO of the Rangers, Major Marc Clifton, and his XO Captain Jack Burton, were wary of the intel and had called in some support from the neighbouring worlds. Finn’s forces were actually the first to arrive, just in time to catch the pirates in the act of looting.

The local ruling noble launched an investigation which bore immediate results, and it had fallen to Finn, as the leader of the strongest military force present, to enact their brand of ‘frontier justice’.

An hour later, under darkening skies of the setting sun, Finn waited at the foot of his Templar while the local militia stormed the compound nearby, a small fort belonging to a local Baron, Lawrence Giles.

He did not have to wait long. The infantry soon dragged out Baron Giles, his hands cuffed behind his back.

The man fell to his hands before Finn, his hands clasped tightly together. “Sir, please have mercy!” he begged.

“Mercy?” Finn scoffed. “Like the mercy you showed the people of Abbeville when you betrayed them to the pirates? Did you really think we wouldn’t find out what you did?” The troops of the local militia stood around them, their faces hard and unyielding. The Baron’s wife and daughter huddled under armed guard, tears streaming down their faces. “The pirates did what they did because they were pirates. You, however, committed treason against Abbeville and the Federated Commonwealth. Which crime do you think was worse?”

“My lord, I know I was wrong! Please, give me a chance! I’d do anything! Whatever I have, I can give it to you…” The man continued to beg, not knowing that each word simply hardened Finn’s resolve further.

“As nobility, our role is to ward our fiefs and ensure the defence of our people and their livelihoods. That’s why your subjects pay their taxes.” Finn drew his sidearm, a simple revolver. “Similarly, we soldiers exist in order to protect our nation and its people. We maintain our weapons in order to fulfil our duties.”

Finn glared at  the Baron. “So, Baron Giles, do you know the penalty for treason on Abbeville?”

Baron Giles stammered, “Th… that’s…”

“This is one of the few mercies I can grant you. Or would you rather take your chances with the mob? It’s not difficult, I heard the people are all ready for a good old fashioned lynching.” Finn’s tone was ice-cold as he opened the bullet chamber of his revolver, checking that the bullets were all loaded. With a twist of his wrist, he snapped the chamber into place, and spun the chamber with practised ease with his other hand. “In accordance with the laws of Abbeville, I hereby sentence you to death.” He aimed the revolver at the Baron’s head.

“Please, spare my family!” The Baron knew that he could not avoid death, but he still pleaded desperately.

Finn replied, “Neither Count Dewey nor I can revoke your title, since that privilege belongs solely to the Archon Princess. That said, we will still need to investigate what your wife knew, and if necessary, she will share your fate. Only your daughter is exempt, and she will, at least, inherit your title.”

The Baron bowed his head in quiet relief, knowing at least his daughter would be safe. “Thank you, thank…”

Finn squeezed the trigger. He barely felt the recoil.

Blood splattered across the ground. The Baron’s wife screamed, while clutching her young child against her chest, her hands shielding the child’s eyes from the gruesome sight.

“For the next month, put up his body for all to see.” Finn turned to the Baron’s wife. “Count Dewey’s men will interrogate you and check your house accounts and records. If you had any knowledge of your husband’s treason, you will be executed as well. Your daughter will be warded at Count Dewey’s, and he will appoint a Steward for her until she is of age. This is the only justice I can offer.”

She continued to wail, “You’re a monster! You didn’t even offer a fair trial!”

“You forget where we are, my lady.” The wife was clearly not from the Outback and did not seem to have fully understood the rough and ready frontier life, sheltered by the privileges of wealth and position. “This is the Outback near the Periphery. Trials as you know them have no place here.” At least not on Abbeville, which was an extremely rough place governed by frontier justice. The Trivet was more civilised, but only because of the efforts of the ruling Counts over the centuries.

He turned to the troopers standing around. “Take her away.”

Finn looked back at his Templar. I have killed many people. Some were guilty, some were innocent. His mind went back to the immediate aftermath of Operation Bulldog, when the liberated worlds were in chaos and the DCMS had to call in the rest of the allied units to help restore order. The respect I now have… was earned through the blood I spilled and the curses people spewed at me.

He recalled the quote from Machiavelli’s The Prince - that it was always better to be feared than loved, to maintain order and control. He wondered how Anastasia would react if she saw what he did just now. Would she be appalled? Would she hate him? Or fear him?

I’d not ask her to understand, because this is the path I’ve chosen, and the way of life of a military aristocrat in the Outback. She might say he could be reformed through compassion and affection, but he also knew that such naivete belonged in fairy tales, not in the brutal reality of the Inner Sphere.

I feel weary… I wonder if it’s raining where you are, Anastasia. And if you’re thinking of me… Dusk had fallen, and long shadows covered the gritty ground before him. A gust of wind blew dust devils across the land.

Hauptmann Finn Rason, callsign ‘Warhog’, quiaff? I am not impressed at all. It does not matter how skilled you are… An apparition seemed to float before his eyes. Because I am sure my skills outmatch yours. The apparition’s face seemed to solidify, revealing tanned skin, dirty brown hair, and light brown eyes verging on yellow. But the thought of my retreat from Bicester at the hands of a freebirth who has no drive, no purpose…

He muttered, “Are you…”

Yellowish eyes seemed to shade into blue, while brown hair darkened into black. Avryl Shower’s voice overlaid with Anastasia Kalinska’s.

…makes me want to kill you.

“...Ana?”

The apparition faded away as the sun finally set.

 

Kalinski Estate, Inman,
Milligan PDZ, Woodbine Operational Area,
16th September, 3061
2300 hours (0700 hrs on local 28 hr cycle)

“Almost there!” urged Hawise as Anastasia pushed the handles of the chest fly machine together, her arms trembling with effort. “Alright! Twenty reps!”

Anastasia finally stopped with a groan, arms shaking with exhaustion. She took several moments to regain her energy, and stumbled out of the leather seat.

“Good job,” Hawise commented, taking her own turn on the machine. Anastasia watched with envy as the older woman easily did twenty reps at a heavier resistance, her motions smooth and practised.

“Really? Not good enough.” Anastasia griped as she wiped sweat off her brow with a handy towel. Intense cardio followed by strength training always took a lot out of her, which was why she could only do the physical training every other day.

“Any more and you will lose more than you gain. Better to take it slow and steady. I would not want the maids coming after me for not looking out for you if you get injured!” Hawise shuddered with exaggerated fear. “It is one thing for me to push those fat security guards. Quite another to push the ‘esteemed lady of House Kalinska’.” The last few words dripped with sarcasm.

Anastasia rolled her eyes. “It’s not like I wanted it that way, quineg?”

“Neg.” Hawise shook her head. “But you had best be careful. Wouldn’t want the servants thinking you’re weird with all the clan speech you’re throwing around.”

“Only us in here, and no men. I’m not worried.” Anastasia shrugged complacently. They were the only ones in the gym, in the time specifically scheduled and reserved for her exclusive use. It was also the perfect time to discuss certain issues with Hawise in relative privacy. “So how are matters coming along?”

“The most immediate concern has been addressed. The estate’s guards are now adequate for security operations, but no more than that. We are not paying for actual combat infantry, after all, and besides, we do not have the equipment nor the permits necessary.”

“Permits?”

“Aff. Count Haynes is quite careful with the distribution of military force on Inman. Even autorifles are regulated. That said,'' Hawise grinned, “I managed to get the TO&E of the local militia and the Haynes’ household guards.”

“Oh?” Anastasia knew that this piece of intel was critical. “I tried asking before, but nobody could answer me.”

“That’s due to your position. As a proper wellbred lady, you are not expected to care about this. I, on the other hand, am an uncouth barbaric clanner who somehow got hired as your Weapons Master thanks to my being in your good graces after that hoverbike incident, so my position affords me some justification to find out stuff so I can do my job. Before they left, I straight up went to Viscount Rason’s coregn… I mean aide, to get the info.”

“His aide…” Anastasia tried to recall the name, one finger tapping her chin thoughtfully, “Eric?”

“Aff, that’s the freeborn. Eric made arrangements with the other military aides to give me all the necessary intel so I could figure out how best to shape our forces into complementing the rest of the militia, either on Altoona or the Trivet. I only just got all the data.”

“And?”

“The standing Inman militia, not counting Viscount Rason’s quick reaction force, which is away anyway, consists of a lance of mechs, a company of vehicles, and another company of infantry. I have the exact breakdown in my noteputer, I’ll send it to you. In the event you go after Pence Lamongue,” Anastasia had already told Hawise about his true identity, “they probably could be persuaded to stand down. The real issue is the Haynes’ household guards.”

“There is Pence Lamongue’s Banshee. It’s the most powerful mech in the whole Trivet. Including the Banshee, they have two full lances. Then they have a lance of vehicles and two companies of infantry, one motorised and one foot. That’s a hefty defence force for Haynes.”

“What about the rest of the nobles?”

“Another two lances amongst the various nobles, military families with a mech. Various scattered infantry and vehicle lances and platoons. I have not time to determine their loyalties yet.”

“Interesting,” Anastasia thought hard about it. “The balance of power seems carefully maintained such that no one side has an overwhelming advantage over the other two.” Was it intentional, in order not to alarm the nobles? Or to save money? She had heard enough stories from Venice about Count Haynes’ greed to readily believe the latter.

Hawise warned, “If you still wish to take down Pence Lamongue, you will need a much stronger force than what you can muster now, or for the situation to change drastically.”

Anastasia thought about Raymond Haynes’ offer. It was tempting, but she refused to manipulate Finn for it.

“Oh right,” she remembered suddenly, “how about the other thing I asked you to look into?”

Hawise smirked, “On how to form a mercenary unit? It’s easy enough, just register as a private company providing military services, and get an employer.”

Anastasia arched an eyebrow. “The details?”

“That is the real problem. Even if, for example, you form a new unit around your Valkyrie and the modified Harvester, add a platoon of infantry and some combat vehicles, you’ll still need to find an employer locally, or else find transportation off-world. That’s the most difficult part, finding a dropship to move your merc unit. I guess you can always go to the HPG station and hire a jumpship and dropship to move you, but that defeats your purpose of trying to escape with Lady Codina, since that would be easily discovered, quineg?”

“Neg.” Anastasia sighed. “It was just a thought. I find myself unable to abandon my thirst for vengeance. Not even for Venice. But I guess if it really comes down to it, I can always hide her in my estate and try to smuggle her offworld. Or,” her eyes brightened up, “find some excuse to get her to Altoona, and then smuggle her offworld there!”

Hawise looked impressed, “Good idea. Except the Count would not be happy, and you will have a lot of people angry at you. What do you think your chances of getting your revenge would be then?”

“I cannot just sit around and do nothing!” Anastasia punched her fist onto one of the nearby leather cushions in anger.

“Then think of a political solution that will get her out of the marriage then.” Hawise made it sound so simple.

“That is the problem!” Anastasia grumbled. “I cannot think of any! I am absolutely useless at politics.” She cast a baleful glare at Hawise, “Do you have any bright ideas?”

Hawise shrugged, “Hey, I was just a clan warrior, and a low ranking one at that. I had no idea how to play politics back in the clans, much less here in the Inner Sphere.”

They looked at each other, then sighed in mutual resignation.

Hawise then said, “On to some good news. I’ve managed to find an old mech simulator pod, several of them, actually. They can only run old Succession Wars era mechs, so they are quite limited. But that was also why they were available for cheap on the discount heap, since the local militia got rid of them after they changed up to newer models that could accommodate a lot more modern designs.”

Anastasia nodded. Finally, she could get in some practice! “But did anybody not ask questions?”

Hawise shrugged, “The merchants were only too happy to get rid of the machines, since they were taking up space! And I hinted very strongly they were for my own use, so no worries about being linked to them.”

“When will they be ready?”

“Probably sometime in the first week of October. I cleared out a room next to the gym, I can install them there. We can use them during or after our gym periods, I will restrict access to it with a key only you and I will have. Some we will transport to Altoona and install there.”

“Excellent!” Anastasia grinned. Getting Hawise onboard was fortuitous and the presence of a mechwarrior meant she could slide many of her own activities under the radar.

“There is only one last thing,” Hawise said, “I have put out feelers through the HPG to purchase second or third hand tracked APCs. We will need to wait for sellers, and also start sourcing for crews.”

“Any idea how to get the vehicle crews?” asked Anastasia. “Put out a notice similar to the APCs purchase?”

“Crews are trickier than hardware. We need to ensure their loyalty is reliable, that is why we cannot just hire openly. It would be easy to plant spies and agents.”

“What do you suggest?”

Hawise grinned mirthlessly. “Ask Viscount Rason. He was from the Davion Guards, he probably has contacts we can use. Not to say they might not be working for the Davions, but at least that is a more predictable problem.”

Anastasia narrowed her eyes. “And how does a Nova Cat mechwarrior seem to know so much about espionage and subterfuge?”

Hawise shrugged. “After I tested down, my Clan’s Watch approached me. I just fit their profile as a loyal member of the clan. The training as a Watch agent was barebones simple, just reading a whole lot of manuals, but it was enough to give me some idea. And after I became part of the Smoke Jaguars as isorla… well, it did not matter anymore, quiaff?”

“Aff.” Anastasia did not like all this, but she supposed she had no choice. “So how long do you think we can get the crews?”

“We have to wait for the Viscount to return, and then you,” she pointed at Anastasia, “will talk to the Viscount first. Get some contacts from him, pass them to me, and I will settle the rest. It will take time though, and I think the earliest we might get the APCs and the crews ready would be the end of the first quarter of 3062. Probably later, depending on when he returns, and how long it will take for the APCs and the crews to get transportation here.”

“You can settle the paperwork, quiaff?”

“Aff, but you will still need to check. I will go over the cost estimates with you sometime later today.” Hawise smirked. “Why do I get the feeling that you hired me just so you can foist the admin work on somebody else?”

“Well,” countered Anastasia mildly, “I was a Star Captain, I have seen worse.”

“But you still hate it.”

“Which warrior would not?” Anastasia asked rhetorically, then pointed out, “We all hate it, but it is necessary.”

“Maybe some of these ‘Social Generals’ I keep hearing about in the Inner Sphere.” Hawise stood up from the bench she was sitting on and started walking towards the gym exit. “At least be glad that Viscount Rason is a real warrior instead of one of those dilettantes.” She winked at Anastasia.

Anastasia threw her towel at Hawise in exasperation, but the older woman quickly ducked out before it hit her. With that last shot, Hawise left the gym, leaving Anastasia alone. She scoffed, knowing that Finn probably foisted his paperwork on his aide.

And there was still no message from Finn after so many weeks! The nerve of that man! He’s making me worried! Why am I even worried about him at all? Argh!
---------------
Took a bit of liberal license with how they deal with traitors in the Outback. As suggested in the various Housebooks, not every world conforms to the federal standards of justice. As stated in Handbook: House Davion, pg 152,

Local governments retain almost complete jurisdiction over crimes committed on their soil against their citizens, though the federal government has broad leeway to prosecute “crimes against the people or government of the Federated Suns, including its officials, branches and its citizens in general.”

From this, I doubt the federal judiciary would want to waste time castigating Abbeville and Finn for what they did.

[Wrangler]

Nice entry, Ana seems to be running out time.

[The Wobbly Guy]

Haynes Palatial Manor, Inman,
Milligan PDZ, Woodbine Operational Area,
29th September, 3061
0100 hours (1700 hrs on local 28 hr cycle)

“My lady, it’s such a shame I couldn’t attend the Day of Honour celebrations. I would have liked to see you,” said Renard Haynes smoothly. “Feel free to make yourself at home.”

“Thank you for your kindness, my lord.” Venice sat nervously in the meeting lounge, her hands gripping the fabric of her dress.

“Haha! My lady, there’s no need to feel so nervous. Why don’t we drop the formalities for today?” Renard grinned, sitting languidly in his chair opposite the long table from Venice. “I would like to be closer to you.”

If I run away, my family will have to deal with the consequences. And if I feign illness and my lie is discovered, I’ll be charged with contempt against the Haynes. Venice tried hard to keep her facial expressions impassive and calm despite her inner turmoil. My parents even had the maids take extra care of my appearance today, since I was summoned to meet with Baron Haynes.

“Nothing but silence and a smile?” Renard’s words jolted her out of her thoughts. He stood up. “You wound me, my lady. Why are you being so standoffish? I’m going to be your husband.” He walked up to her.

Why was I left alone with Renard Haynes? Venice thought anxiously. Father, please hurry back! Her hands clenched the fabric of her dress.

“You know…” Renard plopped himself next to Venice on the cushioned sofa. “I’ve always wanted to engage in a more intimate conversation with you.”

“Oh… I am honoured, my lord.” She could not think of anything else to say.

“Have we ever even had a proper talk before?” asked Renard. “Whenever we ran into each other, you’d offer a polite greeting and quickly find somewhere else to be.” One hand touched her shoulder, sending goosebumps through Venice. “I’ve always regretted not being able to get to know you better.”

She lowered her head, trying to control her fear. “I did not dare presume you wished to speak with me, my lord!”

“Of course I did. You’re special, my lady. Not only are you from a powerful House…” she decided to risk a glance at him, “you’re also very beautiful.” She was shocked to see him moving his face almost next to hers. One hand reached behind her neck for her other shoulder, brushing past her long hair.

He’s sitting way too close to me, what is he playing at? Her panic grew. “My lord, wait!”

“One of my favourite activities, my lady…” He suddenly turned his body weight and strength on her, pushing her down prone onto the sofa, his hands immobilising her arms above her head. “...is catching a bird that’s trying to escape from my clutches and tearing off its wings.”

His grin was evil, and he had a maniacal gleam in his eyes. “I can plainly see that you’re wracking your brain for a way to escape the situation you’re in.” He held her down easily.

She cried, “S…stop! My lord, please stop!”

“Why should I stop? Your father already gave me his permission.”

“What?” She paused her struggle in shock. “What do you mean… ack!”

He brushed one hand along her hair, making her shudder in fear. “Who cares what you think? We’ll be married soon anyway. I’ve gone without the pleasures of the flesh for far too long. Now, do right by your family and try your best to satisfy me.”

She resumed her struggles, trying vainly to free herself from his grasp, but to no avail.

“Think!” He chuckled. “You’re a clever girl. For what other reason would your father leave the two of us alone like this? Do you understand now? There’s no use struggling.”

Ah… He’s right. I understand now. Father deliberately set up this meeting with Renard. Her eyes rimmed with tears, and her whole body trembled. He was afraid I’d do something foolish. She closed her eyes, tears being squeezed out and trickling down her cheeks. He wanted to make sure that I wouldn’t be able to run away… that I would quietly accept my fate!

“Let me g… urk!” Her words were cut off as Renard pushed his body weight onto her, driving some  breath out of her lungs.

“Stay still! That’s an order!” He grunted as her efforts to escape intensified. “Stop struggling!” He pushed her hands down again above her head.

I could die here… Venice realised as they struggled. But what of it? Even if I died, who in this place would speak up on my behalf? Even my father chose to turn a blind eye, knowing full well what Renard would do to me. I was never going to find a way out of this.

Her hands finally flopped to the side, devoid of strength as she realised the inevitable.

“Much better.” Renard grinned fiercely. “I prefer my girls meek and pliable. I’ve always had a soft spot for you, my lady. If you behave, I’ll treat you more gently.” He leaned down, his lips approaching hers, one hand tilting her chin up. “Now, lean back and think of the Trivet.”

Ana, you’re wrong. There never was a way out of this… More tears streamed down her face.

Venice, the best person who can help you… is you. You are more important than your family’s honour! Don’t ever forget that. Anastasia’s words from the other day came back to her.

You’re right, Ana. Is this the despicable act I must endure? For the sake of a family who won’t even attempt to protect me? Resolve coalesced in her heart. I am not your puppet!

She forced herself to remain calm, and reached a hand up to Renard’s face. I was so passive back then… it was always Ana who took action. Her hand brushed past Renard’s face, and then clasped onto his shoulder. Her other hand slid along his torso to his back. Renard grinned widely, thinking that she had given in.

Venice forced a smile onto her face. But this time…

“Well, well….” Renard snickered. “It seems like you’ve finally realised your place.” He angled himself for a more comfortable angle, guided by her light tugging. He leaned in.

Yes, this is the right position… her knee slammed into his crotch with all the strength she could muster. For me to strike!

“Gaaaahhh!” Renard fell off her and collapsed onto the floor. Venice sat up and reached down to grab her shoes, which had fallen off. She started to dash off.

“You stupid bitch!” Renard roared in anger, holding his crotch in agony. “******! Not again! I’ve been hit in the exact same spot as last time! Wretched girl, you’ll pay for this!”

Venice didn’t hear any of that, having already left the room, her mind quickly assessing her options as she ran. She thought about procuring some poison. She could leave a letter explaining what Renard did to her and leave Inman after feigning her death by poison. That was the only way to keep herself and her family safe.

Although… she did not really care anymore about her family nor its honour. Even if they disowned her, she was confident that Anastasia would take her in.

She gasped, coming to a stop.

“Lady Codina?”

“Oh.” She found Raymond Haynes standing in front of her.

“My lady, what brings you here to the manor?” he asked gently. “And where are you going in such a hurry?”

His eyes scanned her appraisingly, and she saw them widen as they took in her state of disarray, and a coldness settled in behind his spectacles when they fell onto the bruises on her throat and face.

“My lady, how can I help? Shall I pretend that I didn’t see you? Or perhaps you’d like some assistance sneaking out of the manor safely?”

Help me? What could he possibly do to help me? Venice thought, her mind racing. Then the thoughts suddenly gelled together, and it made perfect sense. She jolted in an epiphany.

“My lord, please let me rest in your room for a while.” She pleaded. Only a member of the Haynes family is capable of stopping another member of the same family. This way, I won’t have to drink any poison. And if my guess about his ambitions are correct…

He stared at her, obviously assessing the situation and her motives as well.

And while my high-handed family may suffer some consequences, they won’t fall completely to ruin! She stared back at him, her eyes imploring for his help. Please understand the meaning behind my request!

“Pardon me.” Raymond took her shoe from her hands.

Yes, even I know what an absurd idea this is, but there is no way out of the predicament I’m in. Raymond crouched down and gently slid the shoe back into her foot. The chances are slim, but I must take control of my own destiny!

Moments later, they were in his room. It was, as she suspected, filled with books, but surprisingly well-organised and neat.

“You may rest for as long as you need in here. If you need anything, just ring on the intercom and the servants will attend to you.” He nodded respectfully to her. “I shall take my leave then.”

She clenched her hands, mustering her courage for what she knew she had to do next. If I do this… how would Count Haynes react? But more importantly, would Raymond go along with my plan? No, there’s no point agonising over it now. I’ve passed the point of no return.

She took several quick steps towards Raymond,, just as he opened the doors to leave. I have no choice but to see this through to the end!

Her arms wrapped around him in a tight embrace just as he was about to step out the door, her hands clasping together to hold him in place.

“My lady… what is the meaning of this?” He asked in surprise.

“My lord… it’s been decided that Baron Haynes and I are to be married. I’ve just come out of a meeting with him.” She kept her face down, her voice sad. She knew that he would understand the unsaid implications of her words.

Raymond had a hard look on his face.

She continued, “My father wants a scion of House Codina to become the next Countess of the Trivet,” her hands squeezed tight against each other, “which means that House Codina will throw their support behind whoever I am with so that they may become the next Count.”

“My lady…” He turned around to face her squarely.

She finally looked up at him. “I’m sure you know full well what I’m trying to say.”

“Why would you offer me this?”

His tone has changed completely. “Well, because I don’t want to marry Renard.”

He smirked. “Simply because you do not wish to marry my brother? What a childish reason.”

She knew he was trying to test her commitment to her course of action. “Let me rephrase that then. Because my life matters far too much for me to tie myself to Renard.”

His hands around her wrists, he gently pried her arms off his torso. “And if I reject your offer?”

“It makes no difference. Either way, I’m going to tell everybody that you and I became intimate here today.” Her tone was adamant. “And I intend to make it a reality.”

“The Church won’t be happy.” He pointed out. “Premarital sex is officially frowned upon.”

“They never cared when Renard was going to take me. Why should they care now?” Yes, this is a gamble. If Raymond and I became lovers, I might be able to turn things around. She lifted his glasses off his face. “My lord… I trust you will not refuse me.”

“What if I’m merely an ignorant fool who let himself be seduced by you?” Raymond’s face was stern, utterly serious now. Bereft of his glasses, she saw the cautious strategist who always hid his talents and charisma under the guise of a nerdy bookworm.

He finally reveals himself. She smiled. “If that’s the case, then the fault is mine, for it would make me a terrible judge of character.”

He sighed. “You’re getting more and more reckless. Must be your friend’s influence.”

“Huh?” She blinked in puzzlement while he carefully laid a hand on her shoulder, drawing her close while the other hand slowly brushed through her long hair.

“You’re the one who asked for this, my lady.”

As he leaned in for a kiss, she let his glasses fall to the floor.
---------------------------------
Not much I needed to change from the original story. Maybe a touch of modernity here and there (using the intercom instead of a bell to summon servants). Otherwise, this is a very old trope - a woman seeking out a man for protection against another man.

[The Wobbly Guy]

Haynes Palatial Manor, Inman,
Milligan PDZ, Woodbine Operational Area,
4th October, 3061
2200 hours (1800 hrs on local 28 hr cycle)

Kentares. A world that shall live in infamy forever. During the First Succession War, a sniper attached to the Seventh Crucis Lancers killed Coordinator Minoru Kurita while the DCMS was advancing rapidly towards New Avalon. In response, his successor, the psychotic Jinjiro Kurita, ordered the deaths of all the people on the planet. The DCMS soldiers did their best to carry out his orders, but the sheer magnitude of the massacre left even them shaken and questioning their own honour. Many of the DCMS troopers committed suicide, unable to accept the brutality of their actions.

Ninety percent of the planetary population, over fifty-two million people, were killed. The enraged AFFS counterattacked frantically, finally managing to push the Draconis Combine back to the prewar border.

Even two centuries later, the word Kentares still evoked anger in the Draconis March, and shame in the Draconis Combine. The Federated Suns designated the first Friday of every October as Kentares Day, a national day of mourning to honour citizens killed by foreign invaders.

Anastasia could understand some of it. If civilians were complicit in attacks on military personnel, then they were no longer exempt from violence, and they and those around them were all fair game. In fact, the Smoke Jaguar SOP for such incidents in the Occupation Zone was usually to raze the population centre closest to or responsible for such attacks, no questions asked, based on the simple logic of ‘no man, no problem’. From that perspective, the DCMS was justified in putting down resistance from the civilians.

But a uniformed military sniper in a single location? And then to extrapolate it to the entire planet, including the innocent civilians?

Ever since she learned about Kentares in greater detail, Anastasia could not help the niggling doubt in her mind from growing - was the Smoke Jaguar SOP correct at all? Killing innocent civilians just to get at the one or two instigators… was it right?

It should have been very simple. If the defending military lost, the civilians should just fall in line and cease further resistance. If they did not, they deserved whatever they got. But she had since realised that the Inner Sphere did not adhere to clan customs, and matters were never so simple.

Before Kentares Day, she had discussed the matter with Hawise. As a Warden, Hawise was able to provide the other side of the debate.

As inheritors of the Star League, the Clans were supposed to adhere to its highest ideals. And part of it was the humane treatment of civilians and the accurate targeting of guerilla assets instead of indiscriminate slaughter, which in the long run always proved counterproductive.

Hawise went on to talk about other atrocities in history, from ancient Terra to Amos Furlough’s campaigns against the Periphery. The Nova Cats quickly realised a lighter touch was advisable when governing the occupied worlds in the Inner Sphere, and acted accordingly. The mysticism practised by the Nova Cats also enabled them to find common ground with the religious traditions in the Draconis Combine, further providing avenues for cooperation and rapprochement.

The Smoke Jaguars, bred only for war, could not even conceive of alternatives to what they were already doing. In the end, the atrocities they had committed doomed them when the reconstituted Star League singled them out for Annihilation.

These thoughts plagued Anastasia throughout the day, from the memorial mass in the morning, to the solemn gathering at the Kalinski estate for its staff and their families. At each gathering, the names of individuals that can be traced back to that community who perished due to foreign invasion were displayed.

In the late afternoon, Count Haynes had also invited the aristocracy to his palatial manor for another gathering, along with some announcements on the renovation of the manor’s defences. Anastasia found herself slowly making her way through the ballroom, meeting and greeting other nobles as Venice had taught her. It still felt unnatural to her, but she felt somewhat more prepared compared to the birthday party for Virgil Codina.

Her father, Baron Kalinski, said he was not feeling well, so Anastasia had to be present to represent their House.

Anastasia glanced around the ballroom. By the way, where is Venice? I hope nothing bad has happened to her. She had not heard from Venice since Venice had told her she was going to meet Renard. I told her to contact me if she was struggling or if she needed any help.

The aristocrats of the Trivet milled about, many purposefully dropping by a booth to drop donations. There was a fire outbreak in the northern part of Innerman City just a few days ago, and it was quickly decided that the event would also serve as a fundraiser to gather aid for the victims. With so many nobles, each of them donating even a small amount should raise quite a substantial sum.

“Oh my. It seems you were also invited to this event.” Richelle Aubert greeted her with a nasty smirk. “You seem to be in good health, Lady Kalinska.”

Anastasia looked over Richelle, wondering if she should engage, then decided, why not? She allowed the other woman to approach her.

“Seeing as how you’re all by yourself, I guess Lady Codina is not in attendance this evening. What a shame.” Richelle shrugged a shoulder. “Well, perhaps that’s for the best, since things between you and her must be rather awkward now.”

Anastasia narrowed her eyes. This must mean that she knows that Venice is to marry Renard. Does she really think this will break our friendship once they are married? Neg, our friendship won’t be affected by something so trivial. Besides, Venice doesn’t even want to marry that piece of dezgra dung!

“Really? I didn’t expect to see you here at the memorial gathering at all, Lady Aubert.”

“Of course I had to make an appearance. This is an important event on the calendar.” Now that was a subtle dig at Anastasia’s father, who did not turn up.

Anastasia replied, “I’m not surprised that you were invited, but that you decided to show up.” That did give pause to Richelle. “How long has it been since you stopped attending social events after what took place at the Day of Honour? I guess more than two months, hasn’t it?” Anastasia beamed, all smiles and fake sincerity. “I heard the Count himself told you to take some time for self-reflection and keep your head down for a while. Has enough time elapsed for that? Maybe you should take more time for yourself.”

Richelle was obviously flustered, smiling though her eyes were fuming. “It’s been more than two months, long enough. Besides, Baron Haynes himself granted me permission to attend today’s event. And if he’s allowing it, by extension Count Haynes has allowed it too. Finally, it’s to commemorate Kentares Day. It would be remiss of us as nobles to ignore it, right?”

Wow, she’s begun to openly leverage Renard’s authority to act however she wishes. She even cornered me on purpose to pick a fight with me. “Hmmm… I’m not talking about permission… Never mind, let’s just drop it.” Anastasia adopted a dismissive tone, as though the matter was beneath her concern in the first place.

Richelle did not let it just slide though. “Did you know that Baron Haynes was supposed to be here?”

Anastasia flinched slightly, but she knew Richelle had seen her reaction. She tried to maintain her composure. That piece of filth is making an appearance? Is he no longer in confinement? She supposed she should not be surprised, almost all the nobles of the Trivet would be attending, and since it was held at the palatial manor, it would be easy enough for him to just pop in, barely skirting the constraints of the confinement even if it was in effect.

A voice cut in. “Unfortunately, my ladies, my brother will not be attending today’s event.” They looked up to see Raymond Haynes approach them.

“Greetings, my lord,” they chorused. Anastasia marvelled at how she was now able to anticipate the timing such that she was able to greet him in sync with Richelle even if they were at odds with each other.

Raymond appeared a bit different today, his buffoonish air somewhat in abeyance. He looked more serious than usual.

“How disappointing,” remarked Richelle. “So Baron Haynes won’t be here tonight? Did something happen?”

Raymond nodded. “Well, you see… my father is quite vexed with him.”

“The Count is?”

He looked at Anastasia, who shot back a look of sheer disgust, as though conveying to him the thought -  How come you’re here then? He realised what her expression was trying to say to him.

“Lady Kalinska, I have something to ask you.”

“Huh? What for?”

He turned to Richelle, “Would you excuse us for a moment?”

Richelle flushed, while Anastasia tried to mask her surprise. What is going on? Has he finally decided to stop masking that rotten personality of his?

Richelle’s flush soon gave way to a glare of barely suppressed anger. She turned away without a word, flouncing off into the ballroom.

Whoa… Raymond may only be a second son. But still, she should not be so openly hostile to him. And it was also obvious that Richelle had quite the temper too.

“Anyway…” Raymond started to speak, but seemed hesitant.

“My lord, what is it?” She tried to maintain an even tone, not letting her personal dislike of him colour their interaction. I do not need him as an enemy. “What is it you wish to ask me?”

Maybe Raymond wanted her answer concerning what they discussed last time. Knowing his personality, the fact that he was hesitating like this must mean-

“Is Lady Codina not attending today’s memorial event?”

Anastasia blinked in surprise. “Huh?” What is going on? Why is he looking for Venice?

“The last I knew, she said she would be attending. But I haven’t seen her arrive yet, I’ve been waiting for her,” answered Anastasia. “Is there a reason you’re looking for her?”

“I see.” Raymond seemed to accept her answer. “Then let us talk later.”

“Sorry?” For Raymond Haynes to be so perfunctory was unusual, to say the least. “Is that all?”

Then she noticed from the corner of her eye somebody approaching them. She turned to see Pence Lamongue walk up.

“I was told you had arrived, so this is where you were,” he said smoothly to Raymond with a smile. “Greetings, my lord.”

“Sir Spencer Larouche!” replied Raymond. “It’s been a while since we’ve gotten together.”

Anastasia blinked. She had not even noticed Pence Lamongue there. But anyway, it was a moot point. She was in no position to challenge him at the moment. Better to focus on building up her network of allies so that she could be in a position to do something if an opportunity arose.

“Yes, indeed.” Pence turned to Anastasia. “How are you feeling, Lady Kalinska? I was saddened to hear that Viscount Rason’s departure has caused you some distress.”

“I’m fine,” she just managed to keep her tone even and civil. “and Viscount Rason will be back soon.”

“I also noticed you hired that clanner to be your Weapons Master.” Pence said. “Isn’t she too old and over the hill?”

“Oh, Hawise is more than competent enough.” Anastasia smiled back, choosing to ignore his insult. “Would you like to meet her? She’s here today.”

“Oh, that would not be necessary,” Pence deflected smoothly. “I’m sure she has other matters to attend to. Oh, I have to greet the people over there! Pardon me, my lord, my lady.” With that, he slid away, obviously trying to avoid any possible entanglement with a clanner who might know him, no matter how tiny the possibility was.

A few minutes later, Anastasia found herself wandering along the buffet tables, sipping from a glass of wine.

“Lady Kalinska, here you are!” Selina Seydoux greeted her brightly. Then her friend frowned slightly. “Are you alright?”

“Lady Seydoux!” Anastasia smiled. “You made it. Glad to see you here.”

Selina looked worried. “You look a little flushed. You’re not getting sick, are you?”

“Oh, no. It’s just from the wine.” She held up the almost empty glass. “I’m sure my head will clear soon.” I hope so!

“I’m glad to hear that. The Count is about to begin the ceremony and his presentation. It’d be a shame if you ended up missing it because you were feeling tipsy.”

“Hahaha…” Anastasia laughed weakly. It seems Anastasia is a lightweight with alcohol. I’ve always been drinking tea or juices while in this body… this is the first time I am trying wine. To think I would be this weak to alcohol… it was only about four sips of wine!

A small murmur rose in the ballroom as Count Haynes appeared, his wife and Raymond standing beside him. Renard was conspicuously absent.

The Count announced, “My warmest welcome to you all. Thank you for attending this memorial gathering for us to remember and honour those who have suffered from the advances of our enemies.”

He paused, letting the gathered nobles to quieten down and collect their thoughts. “Today, we gather to commemorate a pivotal moment in the history of our great nation - the Kentares Massacre. This tragic event serves as a stark reminder of the importance of defence and military strength in safeguarding our realm from unchecked power and the predations of foreign invaders.”

“The Kentares Massacre stands as a testament to the unwavering resolve of our armed forces and the sacrifices they make to protect our way of life. It underscores the vital role that a strong military plays in ensuring the security and stability of our domains in the face of adversity. As ruler of the Trivet, I stand before you today to honour the memory of the innocent souls slain on Kentares IV, who committed no crime except for existing on the same planet where Coordinator Minoru Kurita died.”

“Let us strive to ensure that our garrisons are well-equipped and prepared to face any threat that may arise, so that we may continue to protect and defend our worlds with honour and integrity. May the memory of the fallen of Kentares IV inspire us to stand united in our commitment to a strong and vigilant defence. Together, we shall forge a future where our military might serves as a shield against tyranny and oppression, ensuring a brighter tomorrow for all who dwell in the Trivet.”

The nobles all applauded. The Count then said, “To affirm House Haynes commitment to a stronger defence for the Trivet, I have authorised some major renovations to the manor and its defences. If you would follow me.” The Count walked off, his servants and other staff quickly guiding the nobles to follow him.

Anastasia let herself go with the flow of the crowd, pulled along on one hand by the eager and enthusiastic Selina. “C’mon, Lady Kalinska! Let’s try to move closer to the front, so we can get a better look! You shouldn’t be a wallflower the whole evening.”

“Oh alright.” Anastasia went along, somewhat bolstered by her friend’s energy.

They were led along the manor’s corridors to the massive doors leading to the cavernous mech bays.

Count Haynes stopped in front of the doors and turned to speak. “In light of the clan invasion and troubles on the horizon,” probably referring to the unrest under Katrina Steiner-Davion, “I authorised the renovation of the manor’s hangers and vehicle bays. Because of some new developments over the past few years, I also spent some money to support one of our most important acquisitions.”

The doors to the mech bay opened, and the nobles stepped through to gawk in awe at the fearsome array of war machines lined up along both sides of the bay.

Most of the nobles already knew which mechs the Count had, but they quickly noticed the changes.

“That’s a new addition! I’ve never seen it before.”

“That’s… is that what I think it is?”

“No wonder he had to refurbish the mech bay, if he had to support and maintain this monster.”

Anastasia stared at the mech they were talking about, her head spinning.

Honestly, the mech did not look like much. It was distinctly humanoid, and looked quite a bit like plates of armour had been strapped onto a human body. The head assembly was a unique ‘bucket’ shape. Weapons ports sprouted all over the torso, and several barrels were mounted on the arms. The left hand held a wicked looking blade.

My Spirit Walker! Anastasia wanted to cry out, but she bit her lip. It was not hers anymore. She vaguely recalled that tea party, where Pence said that her Spirit Walker was gifted to Count Haynes. But to actually see it here, painted in the colours of House Haynes…

“A Comstar Black Knight!” A noble gasped.

“Yes, indeed!” The Count nodded. “Sir Spencer brought it here on behalf of the Archon-Princess and gifted the mech to us, in recognition of our unstinting loyalty and dedication to the Federated Commonwealth. It will serve my son Renard well as his personal mech.”

Anastasia scowled. To think her Spirit Walker would be reduced to this! But one thing struck her as odd… why did the Count tell the nobles it was a Comstar Black Knight, the BL-9-KNT variant first seen on Tukayyid? He must have known it was not the 9 variant, which mounted a hatchet, Pence or the technicians would have told him.

In any case, she was not sure if it was the wine or the shock of seeing her former mech, but she was becoming dizzy. I do not wish to see any further. This… this hurts.

She held a hand to her head. Selina looked at her with concern. “Lady Kalinska!”

“I just need a moment,” she said to Selina. She then turned to a nearby attendant. “Excuse me, could you please show me to the garden, where I might rest with some fresh air?”

“Right away my lady. Allow me to escort you out.”

“Have you grown bored of the presentation already?” Pence Lamongue smirked from the side. “Where are you going? The Count’s talk of war too sensitive for you?” He sneered, one hand reaching out for her in fake concern. “Oh my, your face is all flushed.”

She slapped his hand aside. “Nothing’s wrong. More importantly, shouldn’t you be focusing on your duties as the Count’s lapdog instead of me?”

“I already know what he’s going to say. And I also know everything about that mech.” Pence sneered again. “Go on then, Lady Kalinska. Go get your fresh air.” He gave her one last smirk before turning back to join the crowd.

Anastasia let herself be led away from the mech bay. She was soon seated on one of the benches in the manor’s gardens. Anastasia took a deep breath of the cold, refreshing air, and it did help clear her mind a bit.

Anastasia’s body is really weak to alcohol. She sighed. No more fusionaire drinking binges for me. Not that I know where to even get a fusionaire in the first place. She tried to control her breathing, get her racing heartbeat down. To think my mech would be reduced to this… a mere trophy belonging to an unworthy mechwarrior, displayed to the masses. I wonder what Finn would say if he was here.

She chastised herself. Why was she thinking of him again? She really wanted to stop being so dependent on him, yet he was still the first person who came to mind when things like this happened. She felt so confused. Even now, she was waiting to hear a message, any message, from the mechwarrior who was once her enemy.

And, I am worried about him. She raised a hand to her forehead. Is it simply because he is a reliable fiance? Is that really all there is to it? Why are my feelings for him growing stronger?

Maybe because she had resolved to live as Anastasia Kalinska, and Finn was somebody who constantly affirmed her identity as Anastasia, not Avryl. And he always appeared whenever she felt shaken and he would support her to ensure that she could remain strong and not collapse.

She closed her eyes in memory.
-----------------------------
The Count's speech was written by Chatgpt, and I modified it. I really cannot stand writing political speeches.

[The Wobbly Guy]

Lootera, Huntress
Clan Homeworlds
8th July, 3055

“My Khan,” greeted Star Captain Avryl Showers as she entered the saKhan’s office, trying hard not to show a limp.

Despite having a week to recover, she was still a bit stiff from the brutal final round of the Trial of Bloodright. Fighting an elemental unaugmented was always the sternest test of a warrior’s courage and physical combat skills, especially when they were not elementals themselves.

Avryl still could not quite believe she had actually prevailed over an elemental in unarmed combat, no matter how much she had stacked the odds by having them fight on an unstable floating platform with tiny beads below their feet. An early takedown and a fortuitous omoplata dislocated her opponent’s shoulder, after which the rest of the fight became a mere formality. Even then, just blocking the blows from his other limbs had hurt.

“Have a seat, Star Captain.” saKhan Brandon Howell gestured to the seat in front of his desk. He was not as physically imposing as Lincoln Osis, but he still carried an undeniable air of command. “Congratulations on winning your Bloodname. You have recovered from the Trial of Bloodright, quiaff?”

Avryl sat down, ignoring the slight pain throughout her body. “Aff, my Khan. I am ready for orders.” It would not do to show weakness in front of her superiors.

“Good. I will try to be direct. Your codex shows a mental and tactical flexibility that I do not often see in the clan’s warriors. Your victories on Londerholm against the Coyotes were impressive, as were your decisions in the Trial of Bloodright.”

She stared at him, wondering where he was going with this. “I am honoured.”

“You might know that right now, only the Truce of Tukayyid holds us from attacking the Inner Sphere with our full might. What you may not know, however, is that our touman is still recovering from the losses at Luthien and Tukayyid.”

Avryl started in surprise. “But it has been three years…”

“Three years of incessant raiding from the Draconis Combine, from the Nova Cats. We raid back, of course,” he smiled humourlessly, “but hardly enough to make up for our losses. Reinforcements from the homeworlds has been a trickle, since Khan Osis has certain plans in place.”

“I did wonder about that.” She had heard through the grapevine of the best newly graduated warriors being shunted off to a special unit on Huntress.

“Not my concern.” It was clear the saKhan did not want to dwell on this. “What does concern me is how to maintain or increase our in-theatre strength, while weakening our enemies, with the resources we do have. So far, we have relied on ad-hoc raiding units from the clusters stationed in the occupation zone, but I think this saps the strength from these clusters and interferes with their organisational integrity.”

“So…” she thought hard. “Dedicated raiding units?”

The Khan nodded, his eyes gleaming fiercely. “Aff. Binary strength raiders, slashing and biting deep like a Smoke Jaguar into our enemies. They will be geared towards tactics not usually used by the clan, with below-par equipment to confuse our enemies, staffed by expendable warriors, but commanded by reliable officers.” He tilted his head at her. “Such as yourself.”

“With all due respect, my Khan, this seems like a demotion.” Having just won a promotion and a Bloodname, she had expected a posting to a frontline cluster in the Inner Sphere, so this was a bit of a slap in the face.

“Aff, I knew you would say that.” He smiled. “But there are advantages. Constant action, which means more opportunities to gain glory. Independent command - you will answer only to me. Next, this type of command will train you well for higher rank and to consider the larger strategic picture. And finally,” his tone turned intense. “It brings us closer to our goal of reaching Terra and forming a new Star League, with our clan leading the way.”

Avryl had to admit, his points were well thought out and extremely persuasive. “I would like clarification on what you mean by the equipment and expendable warriors.”

He explained, his fingers steepled in a thinking posture, “We have, through the course of the constant raids on both sides, amassed a significant amount of isorla of Inner Sphere equipment. By equipping a raiding binary with these mechs, it could cost their opponents a moment of hesitation, buying time for our warriors to bite deep. And the warriors for such units would be dezgra, abtakha, or freebirths, who would not be missed in general.” Then he fixed his gaze on her. “But their commanding officers need to be absolutely reliable in their loyalty to the clan and the Crusader cause, which is why I need you.”

“I am flattered,” she really was, “but surely there are other officers more experienced than myself, who could serve better in this role.”

“Neg.” The saKhan leaned back in his seat. “Older, more experienced officers, especially those already in-theatre, are too set in their ways. I literally need fresh blood and fresh minds for this to work. You will be the first, of course, and I intend to have at least four of these raiding units up in two years time. What do you say?”

Her mind raced with the implications. Independent command was virtually unheard of for Star Captains. It was an unprecedented opportunity. “Will I have any decision making power in choosing the warriors and equipment for my binary?”

“Your call, though I will hold final approval.”

She nodded. She already had her own Spirit Walker, taken as isorla from the Coyotes, and she had been using it ever since, even in her Trial of Bloodright where the older design’s endurance had proven to be a nasty shock to her opponents during augmented combat. Then there was her former bondsman Gast, who piloted a Night Chanter, essentially an omnified Crab, from the same cache. He had only recently tested out again as a warrior. He would make a natural addition to the new unit, she was sure of it.

Her Spirit Walker and his Night Chanter were all too easily mistaken for their progenitor designs, the Black Knight and Crab respectively. Perfect for the role saKhan Howell was proposing.

“Aff, I accept.”

Brandon Howell reached out a hand for her to shake firmly. “Bargained well and done.”

Haynes Palatial Manor, Inman,
Milligan PDZ, Woodbine Operational Area,
4th October, 3061
2330 hours (1930 hrs on local 28 hr cycle)

Anastasia opened her eyes, feeling the hard wood of the bench below her. I must have dozed off… why did I dream of that meeting?

The answer came to her almost immediately. Because it set me on the path I walked as Avryl in the Inner Sphere.

“Here you are.”

Anastasia looked up to see Hawise standing in front of her, and her usual alertness was back. The upside was that her short nap seemed to have worked off the worst of the wine’s effects.

“Lucky for me I managed to ask Selina where you went. Or else I would have a hard time finding you.” The older mechwarrior plopped herself down on the bench unceremoniously beside Anastasia, her legs spread wide, not caring one whit about protocol or manners.

Since her father was not able to attend, Anastasia had asked Hawise along instead. And since the Count was making an announcement about the manor’s defences, it made sense for Hawise to attend as their House’s Weapons Master. Hawise carefully made her way around the military personnel present, learning what she could. Clad in a dress uniform instead of a gown, it helped that her status as a former clan warrior seemed to intrigue and not repel the Trivet nobility. Her notoriety in helping Anastasia on the Day of Honour further enhanced her standing, and of course, Selina Seydoux was more than accommodating towards Hawise.

“So… what happened back there?” asked Hawise. “You had a weird look on your face when they talked about the Black Knight. I was standing a bit further away, but it was plain to see.”

“It’s not a Black Knight!” Anastasia blurted out.

Hawise looked at her sceptically. “Kit, I tangled with it on Tukayyid. It is a Black Knight Nine, the Comstar one with the hatchet.”

Anastasia shook her head. “Aff, that one carried a hatchet on the left arm, but hatchets are typically shorter, thicker and heavier. The mech you saw in the mech bay… the blade was significantly thinner and longer. It’s a sword, not a hatchet.”

“Hmmm…” Hawise looked thoughtful, then started in realisation. “You are right! How did you know that?”

“That mech was MINE!” Anastasia gritted her teeth. “It’s actually not really a Black Knight, but an omnified version the Coyotes cooked up during the Golden Century, a Spirit Walker. It was supposed to be extinct, but I managed to win one in an old cache from the Coyotes and have been using it ever since.”

“And…?” Hawise prompted.

“To confuse the Inner Sphere forces when we raided into the Draconis Combine, I designed my Binary to emulate the appearance of a Spheroid force. My Spirit Walker was configured to mimic the Comstar Black Knight Nine, and you can see how well that ruse worked.” Anastasia laughed bitterly. “When we first started raiding, we came across a small R&D depot containing mech swords of various sizes. That’s how I managed to get one mounted on my Spirit Walker.”

“Then why did the Count say otherwise?” Hawise mused. “Maybe he wanted to downplay the strength of the mech. The Nine is actually quite good, but if your Spirit Walker is outfitted with clan spec weaponry…”

“It is. Other than the sword on the left arm and the clan spec PPC on the right, the rest of the guns are mostly clan spec ER meds, pod mounted. You should be able to tell based on the laser aperture size, eight centimetre lasers. All tied into a targeting computer, also clan spec. Plenty of heat sinks to support sustained firing. And if necessary, it can be reconfigured. It is an omnimech after all.”

“Then it still beats the Nine hands down.” Hawise concluded. “It could be outmatched by something with speed, or ranged headhunters, like a Falconer or a Gunslinger, but we probably would not see these newer designs in these parts of the Outback. The Count probably wants to assert his strength, but not so much to frighten the nobles or disrupt the perceived balance of power.”

Anastasia scoffed. “That’s not the real problem. The real problem is who gets to wield that power. Count Haynes seems decent enough, it’s his two sons that concern me.”

“They’re a problem?” asked Hawise. “I know you talked about how Renard is a stravag piece of shit. But isn’t Raymond Haynes just a bookish buffoon?”

“Don’t be fooled by his act. He’s actually a conniving schemer. I have a feeling the succession issue isn’t going to be easily settled.”

“They should just declare a Trial of Possession for it,” muttered Hawise. “Cleaner and less problems.”

“They should, but they do not. Besides,” Anastasia thought about it, “Renard has never shown any martial inclinations. He is just a cowardly bully. I would be surprised if he has even gotten into the Spirit Walker’s cockpit before.”

“So how does this affect your plans, Star Captain Avryl Showers?”

Her headache seemed to dissipate, her anger fueling her resolve. “My ultimate goal has not changed. I seek my vengeance on Spencer Larouche, once known as Pence Lamongue amongst the clans. He shot me in the back on Garstedt, I intend to return the favour.” Her eyes blazed with fury. “And there’s a good chance my Spirit Walker is going to be a part of my plans.”

Hawise raised an eyebrow. “A mech hijack? Really? How can you get past the startup sequence security?”

“I will have my ways, don’t worry.” Anastasia grinned fiercely, ideas budding in her mind. “At least, I now know where to get a mech that can challenge his Banshee. The rest of the problems remain, how to engineer events so I can get a shot at getting my Spirit Walker back, and then going after Pence.”

“Security at the manor is pretty tight,” Hawise commented. “And even if you can get to your mech, there are still several other mechs on site. No way you can beat those odds even with clan tech.”

“I know.” Anastasia slumped back down. “Everybody keeps telling me to use Finn, but that’s just… dishonourable in so many ways.”

Hawise stood up, and extended a hand to Anastasia. “Well then, no point moping about it, quiaff? There are still a lot of things to prepare, and you’re making good progress amongst the ladies. Who knows, maybe something will happen to get you a shot at Pence. In the meantime,” her eyes glinted with glee, “I managed to finally set the mech simulators up while you were busy getting ready for this shindig.”

“Oh? Really?” Anastasia felt a tinge of excitement as she grasped Hawise’s hand, allowing the other woman to pull her off the bench. While not as good as piloting a real mech, it was better than nothing. And she really needed to brush up on her skills. The last time she had piloted a mech was the modified Harvester, and it had been more than six months ago!

Hawise nodded, “We will start training on them tomorrow.”

They walked off, unaware that their conversation had been overheard.

 

What in the world did I just hear? Raymond stepped onto the gravelled pathway linking various parts of the garden, careful not to make a sound. What exactly is going on? I came here in search of Lady Kalinska to ask after Lady Codina, since she was nowhere to be found…

‘He shot me in the back on Garstedt, I intend to return the favour.’

What did that mean? He was entirely focused now, peering behind the shrub to see the backs of the departing women. Thankfully, they did not notice his presence while he had eavesdropped quietly. “It appears I just heard something incredible.”

He recalled his conversations with Finn when his friend talked about Operation Bulldog and his regret when he saw a slain Avryl Showers in a Smoke Jaguar base. The way Finn described it, it was clear that she died. There was no other possible outcome for her.

So how was it possible that a dead person could return to life? Not for the first time, Raymond tried to put the clues together. It was obvious Anastasia Kalinska hated Spencer Larouche, even before he tried to kidnap her on Altoona. Then there was her dramatic change in personality. Her sudden proficiency in mech piloting and tactics. Her decisiveness and courage in dangerous situations. Her strange level of familiarity with the clans, to the extent of getting a clanner to work for her.

And now, her knowledge of the Spirit Walker that only a few select people knew. The exact loadout was a closely held secret, as was the fact that it was actually an clan omnimech, not a Black Knight as most people assumed. It was just too bad they did not have the trained personnel or the logistics network to fully utilise the advantages of the omnitechnology.

On the other hand, anything that reduced Renard’s power could only be a good thing.

Furthermore, she knew the melee weapon was a sword, not a hatchet, something that fooled even veteran mechwarriors. She even knew about the clan targeting computer that was the ultimate trump card to use with the powerful particle cannon and array of clan-spec extended range medium lasers. In the hands of an elite mechwarrior, the Spirit Walker could slice and dice up most Inner Sphere opponents, with ample endurance and shielding to hang in the fight until it can close with the sword to deliver the coup de grace.

Anastasia Kalinska. Avryl Showers. Something that nobody would ever suspect. It all fitted together nicely, but there were some outrageous concepts involved. Probably only somebody like him, who loved reading fiction and had some familiarity with the supposedly fictitious phenomenon of soul transmigration, could even entertain the idea. Besides, the isekai genre was still a very popular one, especially amongst the ladies for its escapist premises…

It was preposterous. Absolutely preposterous, but… did Finn know about this?

No, that did not make any sense. There was no way Lady Kalinska would have told him, and Raymond doubted Finn would have been able to figure it out by himself, as blindly besotted as he currently was.

Make it so that his heart completely belongs to you, then bring him into this fight.

To think he had told her this and asked her, of all people, for help.

His hands clenched around a nearby railing. If a clan trueborn warrior with unquestioning loyalty to their clan was to somehow be revived as a noblewoman of an enemy nation, her first move would be to kill Finn in order to avenge the death of her clan, wouldn’t it? Or alternatively, kill his father Count Haynes first? She certainly had opportunities to do so.

Raymond then mused over the rest of their conversation. Some of it he suspected already, such as her opinion of him. He actually felt flattered that she thought that way about him. And her intentions to steal the Spirit Walker… well, if she could pull it off, it would only hurt Renard, so he had no reason to object, as long as she didn’t turn it on him or the Trivet. Not exactly a reassuring thought.

Then there were her thoughts on Finn. Again, he suspected some of it already, but her reluctance to use and manipulate her fiance was either a sign that she intended to stick to the infamous clan ‘Honour Road’ even though her identity was now completely different, or perhaps a sign of her growing affection for her former foe. Perhaps even both factors were at play.

One of the most stunning revelations was that Spencer Larouche was actually somebody else, but again, the facts fit. It neatly explained Finn’s disdain for the man, Spencer’s own tendency to wind Finn up, and Anastasia’s hatred. Raymond recalled the tea party at Lady Codina’s place, where Anastasia and Finn had verbally attacked Spencer so vehemently. Spencer was actually a former clansman, and if he recalled all that had been said before, was even Avryl Showers’ subordinate.

Things just got even more interesting.

Then finally, the fact that Anastasia Kalinska clearly had her own plans and her own agenda, and that she was being assisted by somebody else in the know. He had asked Glenn to check out Hawise, but information on her was scarce since they had no access to her records, which were probably stored on Delacambre in the clan expatriate community.

He could guess that Hawise was probably a veteran Smoke Jaguar mechwarrior who had fought in the clan invasion, and given what he had heard, on even Tukayyid itself. And somehow, she had developed a strong working rapport with Anastasia. Probably a dangerous opponent inside and outside a mech.

Speaking of which, Raymond wondered just how good Anastasia was as a mechwarrior. From what he had heard, taking down a real battlemech like a Thorn in a modified Harvester was an impressive feat, one that a lot of the male nobles of the Trivet just handwaved away or dismissed outright as beginner’s luck. Given what he had just learned, he was inclined to think otherwise. Being able to fight clear against overwhelming numbers time and again during Bulldog attested to her skill.

And if that skill was put behind a decent mech, and turned against the right opponent…

Truly, there’s still a lot I can’t quite believe. Raymond stared out at the garden, the trees and flora casting long shadows along the ground as Inman’s primary set over the horizon. No matter what, all of the evidence pointed to a single conclusion. Two different people, one a White Lotus, one a Black Lotus…

Anastasia Kalinska IS Avryl Showers!

[The Wobbly Guy]

And that’s it for Act II! I'll be taking a hiatus of a few weeks (months?). Already 8 chapters into Act III, but will be deviating significantly from the original work, so I'll need more time to line things up in terms of the plot details.

Lessee, the hunting competition trope (but with mechs!), another tea party, journey to Delacambre... then the long awaited reunion. Then maybe a bit more here and there, before the FCCW finally kicks off.

For the fight between Avryl and her opponent in the final round of the Trial of Bloodright, watch the submission hold during the final fight in the 2011 movie Warrior and try (try!) to transpose it into this scenario, with absolutely no hesitation by Avryl to hyperextend and pop her opponent’s shoulder joint unlike the movie.

https://youtu.be/9xDO7yhPdG8?t=34

Not sure whether it’s possible for a mechwarrior to even get an elemental into an omoplata with such a massive height/weight difference, but hey, it’s fiction.

Ah, gawdammit, my eyes are leaking again after finishing that scene.

According to the lore, Brandon Howell was a student of maskirovka (the concept, not the Cappie intel agency), and tried to employ misdirection and deception rather than pure brute force. Hence, it’s easy to have him come up with the idea of dedicated raiding units using cast-off equipment and warriors.

Anybody spotted the reference to the ill-fated Smoke Jaguar Tau Galaxy?

And finally, the featured mech of this show, Avryl's Saber Knight!

The name ‘Saber Knight’ is itself a pun, since ‘saber’ sounds a lot like ‘sable’ which is, of course, another word for ‘black’.

Avryl/Anastasia’s Gunnery/Piloting stats: 2/3
Avryl/Anastasia’s Special Pilot Abilities: Natural Grace, Swordsman

Yeah, very unusual for a clanner, but that’s exactly why she was chosen to lead the Jaguar’s Mists Binary, a clan unit specialising in unorthodox tactics. Her melee weapon specialty was fencing (saber), so when she came across the Draconis Combine sword, it was only natural for her to take it a step further and reconfigure her Spirit Walker to emulate the loadout of the Com Guards Black Knight Nine which fought on Tukayyid.

[Wrangler]

So surprise where this going with impossible possibility revealed.

[EPG]

Just wanted to note that I have been following this from the beginning and really have enjoyed it.  Even the parts I thought I didn’t like I have wound up enjoying thanks to your skill as a writer. 📑

[Wrangler]

I hope we get new entry soon.

[The Wobbly Guy]

Larney Plains, Farnsworth,
Kilbourne PDZ, Woodbine Operational Area,
5th October, 3061
1400 hours

“What a dump.” Gast griped as they trooped into the abandoned base, after getting down from the jeeps they had used to disembark from their dropship.

After jumping into Farnsworth, the former clanners and current mercenaries had communicated with the local authorities about their intentions to set up shop and repair their equipment. Farnsworth was the perfect staging point to get into the Trivet. It was within a single jump of Inman, and two jumps of Delacambre and Altoona.

They, the warriors and the support staff, had all agreed that instead of jumping blindly into the Trivet and loudly declaring to look for Finn Rason and challenge him, it was better to gather more information first. Hence a staging post nearby. Besides, they needed an extended break to recover from months of hard travel and fighting.

Rather to their surprise, the local government and nobles of Farnsworth were only too willing to lease a sizeable plot of land, centred around an old base used to house mercenaries or House troops transiting through the world. With the funds they had amassed fighting riff-raff throughout the spinward Periphery, they could easily stay on Farnsworth for years without running out of money.

When they had landed at the tiny drop port, they were greeted by the local planetary ruler, a Count, escorted by only a smattering of guards, with no mechs present. When asked why they had been so trusting, and that they could have been pirates, Count Otis Jepard simply said, “If you’re pirates, we’re dead anyway. We only have two light mechs on Farnsworth for defence.”

That was hardly reassuring. The Count had only been all too happy to accept the sale of two more salvaged light mechs, a Locust and a Hornet, from the Jaguar’s Spleen in exchange for a two year lease for the base and a sum of money.

So at least the Farnsworth garrison would now have four light mechs for defence. They all knew it was pathetic, but appearances had to be maintained.

“Aff. However, it is a dump with a HPG station, and now, it is our dump.” Erlin said as they stood in the empty mech bay, covered in dust and overgrown plants. He suppressed a groan at the sight. “This is going to take a lot of work.”

Farnsworth’s real defence against pirates was actually the local Com Guard garrison, two mixed Level IIs from the 323rd Division, in charge of protecting the local Class B Hyperpulse Generator Station. Farnsworth was also an ideal staging point due to its HPG station, which allowed them access to the faster-than-light communications network operated by Comstar.

Even if Camille still harboured a grudge against them for Tukayyid, she had to admit the need to plug into the network.

Their leased base was only a few kilometres away from the drop port, an ancient facility once used by the Star League, then later the Federated Suns, to station troops on Farnsworth. As the planet declined in importance with the Inner Sphere’s gradual loss of technology, not even pirates found much worth raiding Farnsworth for. Hence the meagre defences, as the AFFS, and then the AFFC, slowly denuded the local forces in favour of strengthening its forces on other worlds.

Comstar set up a HPG station on Farnsworth simply to link up the network, not because of any inherent value to the system itself.

Even the steel mesh fencing surrounding the base was dilapidated, rusting and barely standing, with holes all over. The gates were not even closed, anybody could have walked in. It was a sign of how far Farnsworth had fallen that not even juvenile delinquents bothered with the place.

The base facility itself was solidly built ferrocrete, but obviously needed a lot of cleaning up for both the exterior and the internal spaces. The various bays were devoid of equipment, they would have to move some over from the dropship for the mechs.

The barracks were next to the bays, along with the various rooms and facilities that every military unit required. Thankfully, the techs had reported that the plumbing still worked, which was a huge relief. Less pleasing was the fact that the base was not connected to the local electrical grid, so they would have to find a generator to provide electricity instead. Thankfully, they did have several small fusion generators on the dropship that could be transported over and plugged into the base to power it up.

Food was also not a problem. Even before they had landed, Camille had secured several local wholesalers to provide groceries, and there were a few competent cooks amongst the techs who could make satisfactory meals from the supplied ingredients. Everybody was quite sick by now of clan combat rations, even if they still had a lot of it. Fresh rations would restore their flagging morale better than any victory.

They had spent months in the vast expanse of space, fighting pirates and bandits all along the spinward Periphery. The constant action had honed the skills of the warriors to a fine edge, as well as picking up a lot of isorla, more than they could use. Thankfully, most of the parts were compatible with their mechs, since the majority of the non-weapon components in their mechs either used standard parts or of Inner Sphere manufacture. The sole exception was the clan grade ferro-fibrous armour for Gast’s Night Chanter, but they had enough of it that it was not going to be an issue for a while yet.

Furthermore, Camille, through her own contacts, told them that the Diamond Sharks were slowly sending their jumpships throughout the Inner Sphere to sell their wares. It was increasingly possible that they could purchase more armour supplies from the Diamond Shark merchants, as well as more weapons pods for their omnimechs.

Their mechs were still left behind on the dropship, no point bringing them to the base when there was no equipment available, guarded by the dropship crew. Everybody else pitched in to help.

Larris and Gast took two techs with them to establish some sort of basic security system, simple trip sensors and the like, especially around the main building, since the fence was essentially a lost cause. The holes in the fence would have to be fixed another day - they would probably have to hire a local contractor for that.

Camille and their head tech Ratina took on the challenge of setting up a command post, having dragged the gear over from the dropship. They found a suitable room and put up communicators and display screens, all the minutiae of running a combat unit.

The remaining personnel focused on cleaning up their leasehold and preparing the equipment on the dropship for transport to the base. The Count had provided them with the contacts for local transport companies who should be able to move their heavy equipment.

Erlin himself supervised the entire operation, walking the grounds and ensuring that everybody had what they needed for their tasks. He had never wanted to take charge, and he often found himself way over his head, and woefully unprepared for it besides. Star Captain Avryl Showers had made it seem all so easy when she was in charge…

He had belatedly realised that the only reason she made it seem so easy was because she spent a lot of her free time on administrative tasks while the other members of the Binary were free from such duties. Out of sight, he had no idea there was so much administrative work!

And that was not counting Red Cavalcade, their Broadsword dropship, commanded by a solahma aerospace pilot Gerwin, led a crew of four other solahma warriors who served as gunners for the dropship, and four techs who helped to maintain the other functions of the dropship. They worked to secure the dropship, and Erlin knew they might also have to post guards on the dropship at all times, further stretching their already meagre manpower. They could hire local security guards as an option, but Gerwin insisted that one member of the unit must always be present at all times, just in case. That was prudent.

He also could not ignore the crew of the Scout class jumpship Silence of Night, who had integrated into the unit ever since their escape from the Occupation Zone in the wake of Operation Bulldog. Another twenty crewmembers under the command of Merchant Plytor manned the jumpship.

Plytor and his crew were still recharging the jumpship’s drive, after which they would jump to Kilbourne, which had a recharge station at the zenith jump point, where they could get some much needed maintenance on the jumpship and spend some shore time on the gravdeck.

Once the maintenance was completed, Plytor had planned to take up ad-hoc jobs in the region, which would earn them both money and goodwill from the locals.

It was also one way to insert their own people into the Trivet for fact-finding missions, once they had settled in on Farnsworth.

The work was not even half-complete when they took a dinner break. The two techs on kitchen duty had used the delivery of raw food to whip up a dish of eggs scrambled with ham and bell peppers, along with some chicken soup and fresh bread as carbs.

After subsisting on clan rations for weeks, the food tasted like manna from heaven, or at least that was what Erlin said.

“So what is the plan?” Larris asked, his mouth full of food as he chewed.

Erlin replied, “We will need to send people to the Trivet. Find out where Finn Rason is, the environment he operates in. If possible, his weaknesses too.”

“None of us are trained for this kind of subterfuge,” Camille commented.

“And we need not be,” insisted Erlin. “Just treat it like a fact-finding tour. In fact, whoever is sent can treat it as exactly that, a break from work. While the rest of us labour away here on Farnsworth.” He could already hear the groans from the gathered personnel, and smiled sardonically.

Gast said, “So, the standard five Ws and one H?” Where, when, what, who, why, how.

“We already know the why.” Erlin explained, “We need to find Finn Rason because he probably knows where that traitorous surat Pence Lamongue is. And maybe take a piece out of Finn too while we are at it for all that he cost us during Bulldog.”

Camille added, “We know the where too. The Trivet worlds, Inman, Delacambre, and Altoona. But from everything we have found out so far, he would most probably be on Delacambre, his holding. If not, then on Inman, the capital world.”

“What is left is the who, when, and what,” Larris took a swig of water from his mug.

“By process of elimination, it cannot be any of the non-warriors, because we are better able to assess the local conditions for battle.” said Gast thoughtfully. “It cannot be Gerwin, because we need her to pilot the Red Cavalcade, nor any of her warriors, because they are not so suited to ground assessment. So that leaves the four of us.”

Camille’s eyes brightened, but before she could speak, Erlin cut in. “Camille must stay here in case we need to negotiate anything. And… I also need to be around to coordinate everything that is going on. I never realised how much work the Star Captain put into running the unit.”

That got Gast angry, and he slammed one fist on the table, nearly denting the surface. “Yeah, she worked so hard, and what was her reward? Getting shot in the back by that filthy abtakha Burrock! We should never have trusted Pence at all!”

They sat glumly, silently agreeing. It was Star Captain Avryl Showers who looked past their support of the Warden philosophy, and recruited them into the Jaguar’s Mist Binary.

They might be Wardens, but they were not going to pass up the chance to win glory for themselves and their adopted clan. Furthermore, the Clans had always held a special disdain for House Kurita, since the Draconis Combine had been one of the perpetrator Houses that had purposefully raised tensions within the Star League prior to its collapse. So it was an easy choice for them back then.

“Getting back on point,” Erlin sought to focus their attention on the task at hand, “that means we are down to two options.” He pointed to Gast, then to Larris. “Either one of you.”

“We fight for it?” said Larris laconically. “Augmented or unaugmented?”

“Neg,” Erlin cut in before Gast could reply. “Let us look at it logically to determine the best choice. Larris, you were raised wholly in Clan Smoke Jaguar. How much do you know of the civilian castes?”

The usually taciturn freeborn mechwarrior suddenly looked flustered, “Errr… my parents were scientists, so I grew up in a scientific research station before I joined a training sibko at seven.”

Gast asked, “Did you ever spend money in a market?”

Larris lowered his head. They all knew that as the second most important caste, scientists usually had most of their needs catered to by the other castes, and rarely had reason to venture out themselves. And once in a warrior sibko, there was even less reason to do so.

Gast then said smugly, “Well, as bondsman to the Star Captain, I ran a lot of errands for her. Even in the Occupation Zone, I continued to do that.”

“In short, you were her gopher,” Camille pointed out.

“Go… what? What is that?” Gast was puzzled.

She replied, “A gopher is somebody who does menial tasks for others, which was exactly what you were.”

“Ah, yes, so I was her gopher,” said Gast proudly, “And I did it so well that she kept me in that role!”

They all rolled their eyes.

“So you think this experience can help you fit in?” Erlin asked sceptically. “You sure about that?”

“I know enough.” Gast ticked off his fingers. “One and most importantly, keep a low profile. For example… Erlin, even if you are not staying here, you cannot be an option.”

“Why not?” Erlin was a bit miffed.

“Your appearance.” Gast smirked. “You look too much like a Spheroid aristocrat.”

It was painfully obvious to any observer. With his blond hair, Teutonic colouring, and military bearing, Erlin could easily pass off as a Steiner royal, and as such would never go under the radar, so to speak. “Bah, blame it on my Steiner genes,” muttered Erlin. The scions of Bloodhouse Steiner, descendents of Kailen Steiner who left with General Aleksandr Kerensky on the Exodus, mostly bore the same physical appearance as their ancestors.

Gast pointed to himself, “While I, on the other hand, look like just any freebirth off the street. Second, I know how to make small talk, find out things. Maybe not as good as you, Camille, but I know enough. Finally…”

“Finally?” Larris asked.

“I usually have luck on my side.” Gast smiled broadly. “Remember all those close calls I have?”

“Your luck is bound to run out one day.” Camille commented drily. “Let us just hope it does not happen on your trip.”

Larris raised an eyebrow. “But how is Gast going to get there?”

“Tour group,” replied Camille, “There are always Spheroids looking to experience other worlds. We will find locals who might be interested in travelling to Winfield or the Trivet. Plytor can transport them there, and on Winfield, they can hitch another jumpship to Inman, or Plytor can even transport the tour group there.”

“Why not jump to Inman directly?” Erlin looked puzzled.

“Because it’s too obvious,” explained Camille, “Chances are, a group from Winfield is likely to be larger, since it’s a richer world. Easier for Gast to hide who he is too. If we set up a tour group from here, the locals will be more likely to know who he is, and you will remember we always had problems hiding our origins. But on Winfield, if he joins a group there, he’s just another tourist seeking another hitch.”

“That brings up another problem.” Gast frowned. “I will need documentation though. Passport of some kind.”

Camille waved off the concern. “That is easy enough. Forged documents are everywhere, and nobody ever bothers to check anyway. In fact, I believe we can even just apply for a Federated Commonwealth passport at the local office.”

Larris blinked, “But do they not ask for proof of birth, dates…”

“Just a small bribe is enough to get past these problems,” Camille smiled sharkishly like the namesake of her former clan. “Just a few hours at the local immigration office, and I can assure you Gast will be an upstanding passport holder! We will need to first grease a few palms in the underworld here, find out who in the office is amiable to such… arrangements. It might take a while, but it can be done. I will get it settled.”

Erlin gave her a thumbs up. “And in the meantime, Gast, you need to come up with a plausible cover story, and start going out in Farnsworth to get a better feel of civilian life. Practice talking to them. Would also be good to build our bona fides with the locals.” He turned his head. “Camille, you go with him, at least for a time until you think he can handle himself.”

“And the rest of us?” Larris gestured to himself and the gathered techs who were still eating.

Erlin shrugged. “We still have mechs to fix up in the meantime. Good to have mechs in reserve, in case our primary rides get too damaged.”

In addition to the two light mechs they had sold to Farnsworth, they still had enough salvage, weapons, and parts to put together an Enforcer, a Jenner, and a Spider.

From what he had heard, Erlin knew this actually made them quite rich for a mercenary unit, and with recruitment, they could even build up to almost two Spheroid lances. Erlin added a mental note to find out which of their techs were training washouts who could be persuaded to test up. It might not be acceptable in the clans, but Clan Smoke Jaguar was dead anyway and they had to make their own way in the Inner Sphere.

But right now, their sole objective was to find and kill Pence Lamongue. Whatever happened after that… they would decide after they had achieved their vengeance. If they even lived after the inevitable clash.

His eyes burned. “Once we have the information we need, we will corner Finn Rason and find out where Pence Lamongue is. And then we will finally extract surkairede from that surat. This is our rede, our will.”

His hands gripped the edges of the metal table so tightly that it began to creak. Erlin intoned, “Thus shall it stand, until we all fall.”

The reply from the rest was unanimous and resounding. “Seyla!”
----------------------
Jaguar’s Spleen (not registered with MRBC, no rating)
Mech Lance / Elite / Reliable
CO (acting) / Warrior Erlin, Blackjack-O
Warrior Gast, Night Chanter
Warrior Larris, Strider
Warrior Camille, Owens

Technical support staff (8 pax)
Chief Tech Ratina
Seven technicians

Broadsword Dropship Red Cavalcade (9 pax)
CO: Warrior Pilot Gerwin (aerospace phenotype)
Chief Gunner: Warrior Simon (aerospace phenotype)
Three gunners (aerospace phenotypes)
Four dropship technicians

Scout Jumpship Silence of Night (21 pax)
CO: Merchant Plytor
Twenty jumpship technicians / laborers

Total Personnel Count: 42 pax

Comments:
Note that the Jaguar’s Spleen don’t quite exactly follow the rules as laid out in Campaign Operations. For starters, by right no clan unit would become a mercenary unit (although we have the canon example of the Raging Horde, an all-infantry mercenary unit). Second… no administrative personnel!

Doctors? Medtechs? Some of the techs doubled up as medtechs, while they don’t have doctors/scientists.

Accountants? Quartermasters? This is a clan unit, quiaff? I guess the merchant Plytor can do some of these. Avryl used to assume this duty, but in her absence… uhhhh… let’s just say somebody’s going to be very irritated when she finds out about missing paperwork and incomplete records.

Human resources? Uhm really?

Lawyers? You’re kidding, right? But don’t worry, the lawyers will come in significantly later.

Notable isorla/projects/salvage

Enforcer 4R, Jenner 7-D, Spider 5D. These mechs are slowly being pieced together. The gang hasn’t decided whether to sell the mechs once they’re done with the repairs, or to keep them for a rainy day.

The specific pilot profiles will come... later.

[lowrolling]

First off, welcome back and I am glad to see this continue.

Very nice update, thanks for posting. Glad to see that Pence now will have a few more people looking for a few pounds of his flesh, traitors should always be properly rewarded. It would seem that the former Clan warriors are looking past a source of soon to be needed revenue in training the Farnsworth garrison to help their skill level increase. I wish them good hunting on Pence and hope that they collect a couple more scalps as well. And yes, Avryl is going to be both happy and pissed when she finally meets them.

[Wrangler]

Yay!  Been waiting for it come back!

[The Wobbly Guy]

Codina Estate, Inman,
Milligan PDZ, Woodbine Operational Area,
6th October, 3061
2100 hours (0900 hrs on local 28 hr cycle)

In the end, I was not even able to attend the gathering at the palatial manor to commemorate Kentares Day. I hope Ana will be all right. On her bed, Venice tucked her knees in resigned contemplation, hugging them. She had been confined to the manor for more than a week now, and wondering if she would even be let out for the All Saints’ Day holiday.

When she revealed that Raymond Haynes and her were lovers, her parents’ expressions were truly a sight to behold. Her brothers’ ones too… Their silent accusatory glares, as though she had utterly crushed their plans and hopes for the future.

She rested her head on her knees. Even though I’m forbidden from sending or receiving any correspondence, they had even taken away her mobile phone, if Sir Raymond truly wished, he could have found a way to get a message to me.

Will he really come to my aid? wondered Venice.

She sighed for the umpteenth time. Stuck in her room with nothing to do, she was only left with her own thoughts to accompany, chasing one another to irrelevance.

Her ears picked up the sound of stomping footsteps, and she raised her head to see Vince fling open the doors of her room, a thunderous look on his face.

“Venice! Get over here at once!”

She was shocked. She had not seen Vince for a few days, and he suddenly shouts at her?

“You…” he glared at her. “What have you done?”

“Vince…” she could barely speak, and squeaked in fear as he grabbed her by one arm and pulled her off the bed.

“You useless wench!” He roared. “How dare you! How dare you get in the way of my future!”

Venice trembled on her knees before him, panting from fright. She managed to ask, “What cause have you… to be so upset… Vince?”

“Stop acting dumb!” He pointed a finger accusingly. “You know that I wanted to secure a position in the Haynes Household Guards! And instead of strengthening your relations with Renard, you chose to behave like a wanton and ruined my plans!”

She gritted her teeth, and replied, “Vince, I could say the same for you. Exactly how many women have you dallied with over the years?” She stared back at him coldly. “Then is it not fair to say that you have been as much of a wanton as I have, if not more?”

His response came in the form of a slap across her face. “You should be reflecting on your actions, not mouthing off to me! Your insolence is infuriating!”

Venice collapsed back to the floor, but her fists were clenched in anger. “Even if I did behave like a wanton…” she trembled while tears flowed down her cheeks. “...it is still far less despicable than the way you raise a hand to others at the slightest provocation.”

“What!” Vince was even more incensed now. “You bitch! How dare you glare at me!”

“Enough with the excuses.” Her voice was cold and mocking. “Take a good look at yourself, brother!”

“What?”

“Even at this very moment, you fail to realise just how shameful it is for a warrior to raise his weapons in anger against those weaker than him!” She looked pointedly at his hand, which laid on top of his pistol holster.

“Why you little… shut your mouth this instant!”

“How can someone so ill-qualified to be a warrior be allowed to join any Household Guard, much less for House Haynes?”

“Venice, I told you to shut your mouth!” He whipped out his pistol, ready to bring it down to inflict more pain. She cringed in fear, her hands coming up to shield her head from the impending blow, her eyes closed in anticipation.

Nothing happened.

Why is it so quiet all of a sudden? A moment, then several more, passed. What now? Could it be…

“Ana?” She opened her eyes, expecting the slight form of her brave friend, but instead of Anastasia, she saw Raymond’s back, where he had positioned himself firmly between her and Vince. One of his hands gripped Vince’s right forearm, preventing it from moving. Vince stared at his arm, baffled at why it could not move.

Huh? She was confused now, but somewhat glad for the reprieve.

“I did not think you would be so willing to draw your weapon against Lady Codina over a petty, personal grievance.” His left hand clenched around Vince’s arm.

“My lord!” stammered Vince, “I… I can explain!”

Am I dreaming? Her hopes had not been in vain. Raymond did come for her after all.

“Are you all right, my lady?” Raymond released his grip, and Vince groaned a bit in pain as he massaged his forearm. “I became worried when I was unable to contact you.”

“Oh…”

“Please excuse my tardiness. I should have rushed over here sooner.” He stepped over to her, sliding a blanket over her shoulders. His expression was fond and gentle. “I missed you dearly, my lady.”

 

Thirty minutes later, they were seated in the greenhouse garden, a simple but elegant tea set arrayed on the table between them.

“It was not necessary to dismiss your maids,” commented Raymond. “Anyway, I must say the Codina garden is as lovely as always.”

“I beg your pardon?” Venice was still trying to get her bearings. Her sudden rescue and subsequent release from her enforced confinement had thoroughly disorientated her. “I thought you wished to discuss the matter of our arrangement. Was that not the case?”

“Hmmm?” He smiled at her, “Ah, of course.”

Venice felt puzzled at his distracted look. What in the name of God could he have been thinking about?

 

Raymond recalled the events of the day earlier.

“Renard, enough of your antics. Leave us at once,” ordered Count Haynes sternly.

“But Father!” Renard huffed in anger. “This bastard, he…”

Raymond ran a hand appraisingly across his cheek, where Renard had struck him viciously. His glasses laid on the ground a few metres away. He unflinchingly stared back at Renard from the corner of his eye.

Their father said, “Do not make me repeat myself. You may now take your leave.”

Renard shot Raymond one last venomous glare, before leaving the office.

Once he had left, the Count sighed. “Young Lady Codina is a cautious sort, and not one to behave so recklessly.” One hand tapped thoughtfully on his office table. “I know this. Yet I heard you spent the night with her on the very same day she met with Renard.”

He looked at Raymond. “Given Renard’s temperament, it’s understandable that he would be hopping mad.”

Raymond knelt in front of the desk. “Father, I’m sorry for all the trouble I’ve caused.” He looked back squarely at the Count, his eyes determined, even while his glasses were still on the floor. “But I couldn’t bear to lose her to him.”

“Lose her, you say?” asked the Count. Then he continued, “Raymond, Lady Codina’s engagement to Renard was a secret arrangement her family and myself agreed upon when she was but a child of ten.” He sighed. “Of course, it seems Renard still has an unfortunate habit of treating women callously.”

“But what you’ve done is more than steal his betrothed away. You have effectively challenged his position as the heir as well.” The Count’s gaze sharpened. “Were you aware of this?”

“Yes, Father,” Raymond nodded. “I was aware. I too, am your son, born of your blood. I will no longer hide, nor will I relinquish what is mine.” His voice strengthened with conviction. “I shall struggle and win. I am daring to dream, just as you did all those years ago.”

“Why are you stepping forward now? Is it merely to claim the daughter of House Codina for yourself?”

“Father…” Raymond replied, “In doing so, it is not only Lady Codina I would gain, but the entirety of House Codina. Most importantly, there is none more suited to be the consort of the Count than she.”

Count Haynes started laughing. “Gain House Codina? Thinking that far ahead, are we? Raymond, I see you are finally making your move, even if it took a woman to push you to do so.” The Count laughed for a few more moments, before he returned his gaze to Raymond. “Fine, I shall call off her engagement to Renard. However, you will need to ask Viscount Codina for his daughter’s hand yourself.”

“I will not repeat Hanse Davion’s mistake of simply appointing his eldest to be heir,” concluded the Count. “Both you and Renard would need to prove yourselves. To me, to the aristocracy, and to the people of the Trivet. May the better man prevail.”

 

Raymond chuckled as he recalled the meeting in his father’s office, before speaking. “Viscount Codina is quite a formidable man.”

“Ah yes,” Venice agreed. “As I was getting dressed, I heard you met with my father. What happened?”

“He asked me to show him my capabilities. I believe he wants to see if I am worthy of challenging Renard’s claim to the Countship.” He tilted his head at Venice, taking a sip of his tea. “It seems he loves you more than you think.”

Venice countered, “I do not think I can agree with that statement. Was attempting to force me into marrying Renard against my will, his way of showing love?”

Raymond winced. “Forgive me. I speak not of fatherly love, but of a nobleman’s love for his children. I apologise if I have offended you.” He placed his teacup gently on the saucer.

“So… are we still moving forward with our contract?”

“Ah yes…” He paused in thought. “It will be a little tricky to prove in such a short amount of time, but I will think of something.”

Venice stared at him appraisingly. “Are the conditions my father set really that difficult to achieve? Your serious expression doesn’t bode well.”

“Oh, it’s not that… I was thinking of something else.”

Something else? What could possibly be more important than what we have been discussing? Venice stared at her reflection in the tea, one hand rising to touch her cheek.

“Ah, is your cheek all right?” Raymond asked.

“Pardon?” Venice startled.

Raymond said, “I know most nobles prefer not to have a witness to such moments, and so I hesitated, but it only resulted in you getting hurt. I am sorry for not arriving sooner.”

“It’s quite all right. I understand.”

He frowned slightly. “But it seems as though Lady Kalinska didn’t hesitate the way I did.”

Venice blinked in surprise. “How did you know about that?”

“Hmmm? I heard you call out Lady Kalinska’s name earlier.”

“Oh, that’s…”

She noticed Raymond had a thoughtful look on his face, muttering to himself, “Was that out of a sense of honour? Hmmm…”

“What did you say?” asked Venice.

“Oh, it’s nothing…” His casual tone failed to convince her though. “More importantly, do you recall when you first noticed a change in Lady Kalinska’s personality?”

“What?” Venice was so surprised by the sudden turn in the conversation that she just barely managed to formulate an answer. “It must have been after she fell into the lake.” Whew, I only just managed to keep Ana’s secret. What would he think if he knew she had lost her memory?

“Indeed, I agree.”

Is that what he’s been so distracted about? He was thinking about Ana? Shouldn’t we be discussing our future together? She gave herself a mental shake. No, of course not. We are only together out of necessity, after all. She squeezed her hands in consternation. I suppose this is to be expected. But still…

 

Innerman City
12th October, 3061
2000 hours (1200 hrs on local 28 hr cycle)

Finn looked around him, observing the damage done by the fire to the northern part of the city. He asked, “Is this where the fire first broke out? The report I received said everything had burned to ashes.” He rode his hoverbike slowly through the wide thoroughfare, watching both the environment and the people closely.

This part of the city had been added on after the fall of the Star League, and its construction used lower quality materials, including even wood, which was why the fire had spread so rapidly.

Even now, Finn could see traces of the damage, but what was the real surprise was the rate at which the damage had been rebuilt. Construction gangs were hard at work throughout the area, while massive mover trucks transported prefab structures, to be fitted together like toy blocks. It seemed like the new construction would be several grades better than the previous one.

It did not seem like the aftermath of a fire disaster, but more like the construction of a new town.

Eric replied, “That’s right. It’s only been three weeks, but at this rate, the place will be fully restored in no time.”

“A fairly showy way for that bastard to take his first step towards the Countship.” Finn nodded. “Come to think of it, Raymond donated a huge sum to restoring this place, and he also directed the companies he owned to lead in the restoration efforts. I heard it’s thanks to him that their recovery has been so successful.”

“Yes, I heard it was thanks to Sir Haynes as well. And I can see the faces of the people here are bright and hopeful.” There were people on the street, but rather than mired in despair and helplessness, they all moved with purpose, eager to complete the task of rebuilding their homes and their lives.

“But since when has he that kind of money?” wondered Finn. “With such capital, it wouldn’t be difficult for him to claim the Countship for himself.”

He continued to grouse, “Why ask for help when he’s perfectly capable of helping himself?”

Eric concurred. “Yes, my lord. Very curious indeed.”

Finn thought hard. Raymond was shrewd and cunning. Finn knew Raymond had invested money into various businesses, both in the Trivet and outside of it. Could it be that these investments had yielded these returns? And the businesses involved, like the company now leading most of the construction, Steelman Enterprises… Raymond already owned a part of the company, but perhaps he had managed to buy it outright?

His eyes widened as they came across a temporary refuge, a massive tent erected in a large space. Civilians milled about, getting their chores done for the day. But something was happening.

“It’s Sir Haynes!”

“Lord Raymond is here!”

“He’s come to visit us!”

The civilians cheered as Raymond drove up on his own hoverbike, leading a convoy of trucks laden with food and supplies. He stepped off his hoverbike and walked to just outside the tent.

Finn stopped his hoverbike, and watched from a distance.

Raymond started to speak. “You all have endured much. I have brought you food and supplies for your daily needs.” One of his men pushed up a cart laden with a barrel of rich stew and bowls to dispense it in.

The excited civilians started shoving one another in a rush to get to the food. Finn had seen too many of these scenes back in the aftermath of Operation Bulldog, when the liberating Star League forces had to contend with the atrocious living conditions of the civilians who survived the Smoke Jaguar Occupation.

Finn could see a young girl get pushed, almost falling down as the adults around her paid no heed to their surroundings, all too eager to get to the stew.

“Wait! If they all rush over like that…” exclaimed Eric, “It’s dangerous!”

Before the child could fall down, Raymond managed to push forward into the throng of people and shielded her with his body, protecting her from harm. His aide quickly crouched down next to the girl to ensure that she was not hurt.

“There is plenty of food for everybody,” announced Raymond. “Please form a line to receive your food.” His voice turned stern, though he remained smiling, “If you do not get in line, you will not get your share.”

The people had stopped shoving one another, and instead quietly formed up into the lines he wanted. Raymond beamed as they obeyed his instructions.

What has gotten into him? That eccentric man is actually winning the people of the city to his side! Finn watched in amazement. Blue collar workers, domestic workers, even small merchants.

Finn watched as Raymond drew up his sleeves and helped with the distribution of the food, handing out bowls of stew, while every civilian who received food from him thanked him sincerely.

That, above all, is a strength that cannot be ignored. He has not forgotten the lessons from my father about leadership at the front. For a moment, their eyes met, then Raymond turned away to continue serving the food.

Hmmm… our eyes met, yet it doesn’t seem as though he wants to talk to me. Rather unusual for that chatterbox. “Let us head back to my estate. There doesn’t seem to be any problems here.” Finn revved his hoverbike.

“Are you going to visit Lady Kalinska?” asked Eric.

“After a shower and making myself more presentable,” answered Finn. He started riding off. It’s been two months since I left. Will you smile upon seeing me? Or will you grumble at me and complain that I took too long? Finn smiled. Ana…

 

With the items distributed, Raymond sighed slightly.

“My lord?” Glenn commented. “You’ve been sighing quite often lately.”

Raymond shrugged. “It’s just that… I don’t know what to say to Finn when I see him next.”

Glenn looked surprised. “I thought you were friends? Did you have some quarrel with him?”

Instead of answering the question, Raymond said, “The Viscount turned his bike around just now. He’s probably going to see Lady Kalinska.”

Glenn nodded, “Yeah, I think I saw his group.”

“Will Lady Kalinska become my ally or the cause of my downfall?” mused Raymond openly.

“Pardon me?” Glenn was confused. “I’m sorry, my lord, but you’ve lost me.”

“Never mind, it’s nothing.”

They carried the empty boxes to the transport truck. Raymond remained deep in thought. If Anastasia Kalinska is truly Avryl Showers, then it is undeniable that she was a skilled mechwarrior and officer. And she surely hates the Inner Sphere… Is it really all right to leave someone like that be?

He got into the truck’s shotgun seat, while Glenn climbed into the driver’s seat. Should I keep her apart from Finn? He blanched mentally. No, no. That would be impossible at the moment. Moreover, she’s not a mechwarrior any more, but a lady. It would be very difficult for her to seize power, and she poses no threat at the moment. He decided he had to consider the issue more carefully and plot out a course of action with contingency plans before making his move.

“Glenn, take us back to the manor.”

[The Wobbly Guy]

Kalinska Estate

Anastasia angled her Hatchetman at a run towards the enemy Crusader, the crosshairs of her autocannon wavering with each massive stride taken by the medium battlemech. Her right hand rested on the right arm joystick controls, ready at a notice to deploy the deadly hatchet that was the mech’s namesake.

The Crusader erupted with blooms of white smoke, missiles arcing towards her, and her missile alarm system wailed of danger. The Crusader backtracked as best as it could, trying to keep its distance while whittling down her armour, which, to be honest, was not all that much.

Anastasia rode out the missile impacts, maintaining her speed. Parts of the mech’s outline on the HUD now showed yellow, indicating substantial loss of armour. The Crusader moved into a clump of trees behind some hills, but that would only play into her hands.

She allowed the Crusader to withdraw, but used the break in the line of sight to get even closer. She also decided to add in a taunt.

“Breaking zellbrigen?”

“Neg,” the reply was almost immediate. “Trying to slow you down.”

Anastasia knew what Hawise was trying to do. The last few times they did this particular matchup, Hawise had stood off to maintain distance until the Crusader’s long range missiles were depleted, but Anastasia was able to close in every time and dismember the Crusader piece by piece. So Hawise was trying something else today.

But Anastasia was not going to let it work. She knew Hawise was probably already turning the Crusader around and moving it as fast as she could to open up the distance again, hopefully enabling her to get a few more salvos of LRMs off.

Close enough. Anastasia stomped on the foot pedals, igniting the jump jets. The Hatchetman lifted off on plasma jets, propelling itself through the air and over the hill. As it reached the apex of its jump, Anastasia could see the Crusader already in a full run towards another stand of trees for cover.

A wave of heat from the hot air blowers, meant to simulate actual combat conditions, washed over Anastasia, and she could feel sweat starting to break out all over her skin. It would only get worse once she started firing her weapons.

Which she did as the Hatchetman descended, her autocannon slamming high-explosive shells into the rear flank of the Crusader, forcing Hawise to spin it around before the rounds could punch through the weaker rear armour. More heat washed into the cockpit, and Anastasia could feel herself starting to gasp for breath even as she held on tightly when the mech ended its jump, the cockpit shaking with the simulated landing.

Not for the first time, Anastasia cursed the antiquated heat exchanger systems used by the Hatchetman, even if Hawise’s simulated Crusader was likewise dealing with the same issues. The training simulators, built in 3028, could only handle designs prevalent at that time, which also meant no advanced technology, technology that Avryl Showers had taken for granted in the clans.

The Crusader’s arms came up, and they sent emerald spears at the Hatchetman, followed by missiles from the racks installed on the Crusader’s legs. Anastasia ignored the hits, focused on closing the distance even as parts of her mech’s outline started flashing red, warning of impending breaches.

Then they were suddenly at point blank range, and Anastasia put the hatchet to work. The first cleave scored deep into the Crusader’s arm. Hawise tried a kick, but Anastasia neatly pirouetted the Hatchetman, lifting up one leg just above the kick, while swinging the deadly hatchet up, around and down for another savage blow that drove the Crusader to its knees.

Which left the Crusader’s cockpit at the perfect angle for her autocannon to aim at.

Anastasia squeezed the trigger instinctively, the shells hammering at the vulnerable head until one of them broke through, finally ending the simulation.

 

“Freebirth!” Hawise cursed as she stepped out of the simulator pod, her hands lifting the heavy neurohelmet off her head. “You got me again.”

Anastasia looked slightly apologetic. “The Crusader is a poor matchup for the Hatchetman. Even though it outmasses the Hatchetman by twenty tons.” She arched an eyebrow. “Seriously, still using ‘freebirth’ as an epithet?”

Hawise scoffed. “I married one and pushed two of them out of my ass, so I think I have every right to use the word as I see fit.” She tapped her chin with one hand, thinking. “How about we switch mechs? You take the Crud, and I take the Hatchetman.”

“Neg,” answered Anastasia. “I’m sticking to the Hatchetman.”

“Kit, you have been using the Hatchetman almost exclusively since we started, and despite it beating the Crud, most times I clobbered you in a heavier mech, or a more mobile one with range, like a Griffin or a Phoenix Hawk. Is there something you want to tell me?”

Anastasia shrugged. “It’s no big secret. Of all the mechs in the simulator database, the Hatchetman is the only one with a melee weapon. And its weapons loadout isn’t that far different from my Spirit Walker.” She took a swig from her water bottle, which contained an electrolytic drink.

It did make a certain amount of sense, although the autocannon was a poor substitute for the arm mounted ER PPC, and the two medium lasers were laughable compared to the Spirit Walker’s array. But it was the closest facsimile Anastasia had, so she forced herself to use it.

She was growing attached to the Hatchetman’s jump jets though, and wondered if it was worth the hassle to reconfigure her Spirit Walker to carry jump jets for the mobility boost. Assuming she could get it back, of course.

Hawise sighed. “All right then. How about I take a Rifleman? I think we have yet to try that matchup.” She glanced at the clock at the corner of the simulator room. “We should have time for one more run before washup, lunch, and siesta. And then you have your lady stuff after siesta.”

Anastasia winced. “It’s not as if I have a choice, quiaff? Lady Seydoux invited me out for another musical with the usual gang, I have to fit in and all, and I’ve come too far to go back to being an outcast.”

“Aff,” Hawise grinned. “Just admit it, you’re starting to enjoy all these too.” She waggled a finger at Anastasia. “You were checking out some of the books in the manor library last week, trying to read for the plot of the shows you watched right? And you were even humming ‘Let it Go’ yesterday.”

Anastasia flushed and decided a tactical retreat was in order. “We should just start this run!” She escaped into her simulator pod, and Hawise laughed.

 

It was desert canyons this time, the terrain riven by valleys and ravines. Hot sand blew across the surface, reducing visibility and making it more difficult to aim direct fire weapons, such as the Hatchetman’s autocannon. One saving grace for Anastasia was that it would probably handicap the Rifleman too, since it carried paired medium autocannons with large lasers. The winds would most affect ballistic weapons.

She marched the Hatchetman in the valley below, watching her sensors intently for signs of Hawise’s Rifleman.

Contact! A blip appeared to the southeast. Anastasia changed the Hatchetman’s course to an intercept heading, but she decided to stay below in the valleys, in order to stay out of sight until she could get into an advantageous position.

Hawise knew it too, and staked out a position above the valleys where the Rifleman would have relatively clear fields of fire for at least four hundred metres for most of the possible approaches Anastasia could use.

Anastasia gritted her teeth. I have no choice. The Hatchetman was a close combat brawler, not a sniper nor a skirmisher, terrible at pop-and-shoot tactics. In contrast, the Rifleman was designed to be an anti-air platform, but with the ravages of the Succession Wars, was pressed into front-line combat, where it usually served as a stand-and-deliver sniper. Its array of direct fire weapons would likely be superior to the spread damage inflicted by the Crusader’s long range missiles, and hence was a deadlier threat to the Hatchetman.

For a battle between a brawler and a sniper, terrain was everything. Whoever got the drop on the other would hold the advantage.

Anastasia checked the terrain map again. While the Rifleman could cover most of the approaches, it did not cover all of them - there were still spots of cover. She would have to dash from cover to cover and hope the weather conditions would help her close in before her mech took too much damage.

She advanced the mech down the valley she was in, keeping a close eye on the radar tracking the relative positions of Hawise’s Rifleman, her own Hatchetman, and the intervening terrain.

There! She peeked the Hatchetman out, and glimpsed the Rifleman perched on the cliff. She ducked the Hatchetman back behind cover, even as lightning streaked past, narrowly missing her. Wait! Lightning?

The standard Rifleman RFL-3N mounted paired autocannons, large lasers on each arm, the heavy armament designed towards downing enemy air support, not PPCs. She punched up the Warbook, quickly checking the Rifleman’s variants.

It was the 4D variant, which replaced the autocannons with far more effective PPCs, but at the cost of an even higher heat deficit. It could not sustain firing all its weapons for even twenty seconds, and would shut down in moments. On the other hand, its all-energy offence would not be affected by the winds swirling around the canyon.

Anastasia bit back a curse. Hawise did say Rifleman, but did not specify which one. She had been too careless in her bid, and the older warrior likely took advantage. Again. The loss on Hoard should have clued her into realising Hawise did not survive this long on luck alone. From their conversations, she picked up hints that Hawise only managed to survive Luthien and Tukayyid with unorthodox tactics, adopted in desperation at the last moment to stave off death.

No matter. Knowing that the Rifleman’s PPCs were still recharging, Anastasia pushed her throttle forward, and ran her Hatchetman out into the open, just four hundred metres away from the Rifleman. Hawise could chance shots with her large lasers, but it would only threaten to shut the Rifleman down from overheating.

Anastasia had already staked out the next piece of cover, the Hatchetman running desperately for it. She bounced in her seat as it simulated the rocking motion of the mech in full stride, her stock mouthguard protecting her teeth and tongue from damage, and she wondered if she should get a custom job that would fit her better.

She counted down mentally the recharging time of the PPCs, knowing that it would be close.

The Hatchetman slid behind a rock pillar, just as she counted the full recharging of the PPCs. Anastasia sighed in relief. Three hundred more metres to go.

She knew there was no avoiding what came next. She would have to let the Hatchetman take the hits and hope that it was still battle-worthy when it reached the Rifleman. She spun the Hatchetman out from behind the pillar and started running on a slight tangent relative to the Rifleman’s position, her feet ready on the pedals.

Hawise held off from firing right away this time, probably trying for a deflection shot. Anastasia could see the Rifleman’s barrels tracking her mech’s movement, and even at a distance, they seemed to loom in the computer enhanced magnification on her HUD.

The particle beams slammed into the Hatchetman, eagerly devouring armour over the torso and arms. Anastasia saw the sections of the armour outline turn to blinking yellow almost immediately. Another hit from any of the Rifleman’s weapons would breach the armour in those sections.

The Hatchetman staggered with the loss of so much armour, but Anastasia’s superior sense of balance conveyed through her neurohelmet easily kept it upright and moving. She twisted the control sticks, turning the mech’s torso to put her crosshairs over the Rifleman. Let’s give you something to think about.

She sent a long burst of autocannon fire at the Rifleman, scouring armour off one leg. The heavy mech barely staggered, and instead continued to track her movement, its long barrel arms following her ominously.

The next few moments saw the Rifleman fire only one PPC at her, which missed high, and it was obviously cautious of overheating. Anastasia knew it was now or never.

She stomped on her foot pedals, the Hatchetman rocketing upwards onto the cliff while the Rifleman started backing away. She landed her mech lightly on its feet, ready to dole out some punishment with the hatchet, but the Rifleman had already turned away, putting valuable distance between the two mechs.

And even then, the Rifleman had flipped its arms behind it, and one arm still trained its guns directly on her. Sand swirled around their mechs.

She stared down the barrels of both the PPC and the large laser, suddenly frozen by a memory surging into her mind.

Then they fired right into the Hatchetman.

Her seat shook with the impact as the shots punched right into the centre of the Hatchetman, lighting off the ammunition for its autocannon. Her HUD filled up with light, almost blinding her. The glare faded away, and Anastasia found herself sitting in the darkened simulator pod, the instrumentation panel shut down, with only a single dim light in the cockpit.

 

Afterwards, they were in the tiny locker room, stowing away their neurohelmet and cooling vests in the secured compartments. For security reasons, Hawise had restricted access to the simulator room to only the two of them, and nobody else in the estate had access. Hopefully, this way nobody would also know that Anastasia was a mechwarrior.

“Not like you to freeze up like that,” commented Hawise. “You could have dodged the shot, you knew it was coming.”

“Just something that spooked me,” replied Anastasia. “On Caripare, during Bulldog.” She stood before her locker, staring at her bulky neurohelmet already sitting inside. Why did I suddenly think of it?

“Uh huh.” Hawise did not say anything else. She could be startlingly observant. “Well, that’s it for today. I really stink, could use a good shower.” She stowed the neurohelmet into her own locker, and walked off. “I’m going off to mind my kids. See you at lunch!”

Anastasia clenched her fists, her head bowed. Staring down the barrels of a Rifleman… it had been Finn’s Rifleman-5D, back on Caripare…
-----------------------------------
Not many changes from the original story here, at least in the first part. The second part is Anastasia starting to emote over her past, and finally some mech combat, even if it was simulated.

[lowrolling]

No wonder she still hates Finn. Hope she can let it go to get his alliance.

[Wrangler]

The agony of defeat haunts her.

[The Wobbly Guy]

Yokoshiya Hills, Caripare
Smoke Jaguar Occupation Zone
6th July, 3059

“Left flank is going to collapse in five minutes!” Star Captain Jolen Hoyt roared over the shared command channel while his Binary was probably collapsing around him, pressed against the full might of a Com Guards division.

“Neg! We are barely holding on the right ourselves!” Star Captain Avryl Showers shouted back. “Try to drag back further, but stay alive!”

Caripare’s official garrison was actually the 2nd Jaguar Guards, supplemented by a smattering of provisional garrison units. But after the shock of the initial SLDF attack, in-theatre commander Mikhail Ward, Galaxy Commander of Beta Galaxy, had ordered all the raiding binaries to assist in the defence of their sector of Caripare, superseding the orders of saKhan Brandon Howell, who was still in the Homeworlds. Knowing that the strategic situation was dire, they had agreed to follow those orders.

Maybe we should not have listened, Avryl cursed as she fired her ER PPC, the bolt blasting away the arm of an approaching Venom, halting the momentum of the light lance trying to overrun her position. We are ill-prepared for a standup fight, and going up against overwhelming numbers like this is suicide.

The Spheroid numbers were staggering. The 2nd An Ting Legion, Com Guards’ 79th Division, 1st Fusiliers of Oriente, the 1st St. Ives Lancers, and even the Nova Cat units on Caripare who had seemingly defected to the Inner Sphere. The stream of enemy units seemed never ending.

We should have pulled back, used a mobile defence to try to get local superiority and capitalise on it, instead of trying to hold ourselves in place. Like this, we are just nails waiting for heavy hammers to smash us flat! “Mists, fall back to sector bravo-twelve. We need to give them something to think about.” Several PPC and laser blasts missed her Spirit Walker narrowly, and she hunched her mech over a bit to present a tighter targeting profile.

Her binary responded immediately to her orders, the mechs of her unit sliding away to one side, leaving the way clear for the 1st Fusiliers of Oriente to punch through to the rear of the 2nd Jaguar Guards, which were already heavily engaged against the 2nd An Ting and the 1st St. Ives Lancers.

As expected, the Inner Sphere units jumped at the opportunity, rushing forward to take advantage of what they perceived as the Jaguars breaking lines under the tremendous pressure. A company of the Free Worlds League unit charged through the gap, while the rest of the enemy battalion continued to pressure the Wild Whiskers, the other raiding binary next to hers.

The leading Hermes pranced through the hills, then explosions started wreathing its legs in dusty blooms. The light mech staggered, then collapsed to the ground. Another mech, a Tempest, suffered the same fate, crashing down as its leg actuators suffered crippling damage.

It was a trap. Avryl had ordered Larris to use his Strider’s LRM racks to lay down a Thunder minefield before the battle started in preparation for this eventuality, and it paid off handsomely. The shock of having several of their mechs suddenly encounter crippling leg damage stunned the Spheroids for a moment.

That was all the opening Avryl needed. “On them, Mists! Before the rest of their battalion can rally!” At this juncture, she would take all the cheap kills she could, and zellbrigen can be tossed out the airlock when they were fighting merely to survive.

Her Binary was battered but still numbering a full ten mechs, and it was a powerful force even if not quite up to the technological standards of a front-line omnimech binary. She fired her entire array of medium lasers at a Trebuchet, grunting in satisfaction as one seeking laser beam found an ammunition bin, an explosion bursting out of the torso, the majority of the mech saved only by the Cellular Ammunition Storage Equipment that vented the explosion out the back of the mech. The sight of the medium mech falling to the ground, one side burning, was extremely gratifying.

Pence’s Banshee blasted an enemy Orion to shreds, its gauss rifle and ER PPCs punching through to the innards of the heavy mech before SRMs ripped into the vulnerable components, hitting the vulnerable XL engine and putting it down. Smoke billowed out of the holes, while Pence hunted for more targets.

Despite her mech’s lack of heavy weaponry, Camille teamed up with Gast to take on a Scorpion, her Owens’ smaller calibre weapons exploiting holes made by Gast’s Night Chanter, the quad mech finally fell, unable to stand with its gyro destroyed. Gast’s Night Chanter then shoved it into a depression in the ground, so that it could not rear up and fire its weapons except up into the sky.

Within a minute of furious combat, her Binary had torn the damaged Inner Sphere company apart.

“Mist Actual, this is Whisker Actual. More mechs inbound! We can’t hold here!” Star Captain Khistri Weaver announced. “I’m pulling back to bravo-fourteen. See if you can take a piece out of them!” The remnants of the Wild Whiskers fell back at an angle while maintaining unit cohesion, a testament to their training and discipline under overwhelming fire.

It was a variation of the classic leapfrog retreat, withdrawing and enticing an enemy into a direct pursuit, exposing their vulnerable flanks. However, it required highly skilled and disciplined troops to execute.

Thankfully, the Jaguar’s Mists amply fulfilled those requirements.

The Spheroids knew Avryl’s Binary was there to threaten their flank, yet they came on anyway, a reinforced company chasing the remaining Whiskers in an attempt to inflict crippling damage to their rear while the odds were good.

That did not mean all of them ignored the Mists. A whole lance of heavy mechs split off to stop gap her Binary. Avryl did not know whether to feel insulted or glad at the opportunity.

“Crush them all!” She put Saber Knight into a run at the enemy mechs, and placed her targeting crosshairs over the lead mech, a sturdy Goliath that was advancing bravely. She fired her particle cannon, followed by some of her lasers. The burst of burning energy shaved off armour from its right leg, while only one of her lasers hit, burning away some armour from its tough left torso.

It replied with its substantial array of weapons, a gauss slug smashing into her centerline, the armour there more memory than actual protection, while its missiles flew over her mech only to be swatted away by the last of the flechettes from Erlin’s Blackjack’s anti-missile system. Meanwhile, Erlin planted his feet squarely on the ground and fired back with his full arsenal, his gauss rifle and extended-range lasers stabbing deep into the Goliath’s massive body, making the mech shudder with critical hits on its engine and gyro.

“They really want our attention.” She barked harsh laughter over the comms channel. “Give it to them!”

The Goliath stopped its charge, and stood its ground while its lancemates twisted when her unit threw its entire weight of fire at them. One Ostsol fell to the ground, its torso carved away, while an Archer stood off, launching off salvos of missiles at Pence’s Banshee, barely hurting the assault mech even as the Banshee pummelled it into scrap.

Her Saber Knight closed in on the Goliath, her mouth open in a snarl as her left hand moved the left joystick in ‘detached’ mode, thrusting the sword forward viciously straight at the cockpit of the quad walker. Sparks screamed along metal armour as the blade slammed home, and the enemy mech seemed to suddenly lose power. Avryl worked the foot pedals, shifting her mech so that she could withdraw the blade from the fallen Goliath. It fell over just as the blade tip cleared the ruined cockpit. She imagined red blood on the blade of the sword.

The rapid destruction of the heavy lance rocked the Fusiliers back on their heels, the company pursuing the Whiskers quickly reversing course to avoid getting caught between two enemy forces. In fact, the entire Fusilier force stopped their advance to reorganise from their losses before pushing forward again.

That bought us some time, but the left flank might be gone already. “Move to sector delta twelve,” Avryl ordered, and despite their exhaustion and damage, her binary swung into action. “If any Slash Slicers or Burr Furners are still alive, we get them out. If they are all dead, we buy time, quiaff?”

“Aff!”

She checked her mech’s status. There was no internal damage yet, but the armour was already in tatters on most locations. The rest of her Binary told the same tale - most of their armour was non-existent, and some had internal damage, but nothing critical was hit… yet. Combat Loss Groupings was going to take its inevitable toll soon.

In return, her binary alone had destroyed or crippled almost two companies of enemy mechs. But it was not enough.

It was never going to be enough.

Avryl switched channels to the 2nd Jaguar Guards command channel, contacting the de facto overall commander of the on-planet Smoke Jaguar forces.

“Jaguar Actual, this is Mist Actual. We have inflicted heavy casualties on the right flank, but their next push will break through.” Please let us withdraw. We can yet serve the clan in retreat.

Star Colonel Kevon Wimmer’s reply was almost immediate. “Aff, I understand.” He sounded breathless, as though trying hard to suck air into his lungs. “Try to get as many warriors and mechs out.” Pause. “Withdraw through the Trevorton Mountains behind the Yokoshiya Hills. I have a surprise for these Spheroid surats.” Another pause, followed by several loud thumping sounds. “Sending coordinates to you, follow the nav points.”

Her eyes lit up. “Aff, complying!” She sent the coordinates to Khristi, knowing that her fellow officer would understand the plan. In the meantime, her binary was nearing the left flank.

The other two raiding binaries were supposed to be holding the line against the onslaught of the Com Guards. Despite the earlier report, they seemed to be faring well, even with the artillery raining down and peppering their positions while Com Guard mechs and tanks sniped at a distance. The Smoke Jaguars held their positions stolidly, but it was clear from the movement of their mechs that they wanted out.

The only good thing about this cautious approach, for the Smoke Jaguars, was that it would take a long time for the Spheroids to flush them out. But seeing as the Spheroid forces had the sheer weight of numbers on their side, time was probably not something they were concerned with.

“I thought the flank was about to go?” Avryl stopped her binary at a safe enough distance from where the artillery shells were falling.

“Well, they decided to pull back and let their artillery cut us down one chunk of armour at a time,” Star Captain Drigin Corbett replied drily from his battered Marauder IIC. “Probably wanted to reduce their own losses. Otherwise they would have stomped us flat already, and damn their own losses. They are Spheroids, what did you expect?”

He managed to sound indignant, admiring, and annoyed at the same time. “All they really did since then was to deafen my eardrums.” Indeed, much of the artillery was falling around the Jaguar mechs, with few shells inflicting substantive damage, but the two binaries were already battered and could not last much longer.

“Star Colonel Wimmer wants us to withdraw, so we need not waste ourselves any more on this lost battle.” She informed them quickly. “Good thing they stood off, we have a better chance of escaping with fewer losses.”

Avryl realised she spoke too soon, when Camille shouted, “Star Captain, enemy company approaching from charlie-ten!” A pause. “Freebirth, they are 1st Davion Guards, War Pigs!”

Hauptmann Finn and his War Pigs again! She cursed vehemently. This was the third time her binary faced off against Finn’s War Pigs. First on Bicester, where they gave the Spheroids a bloody nose, then on Tanh Linh, where the War Pigs chased them off, and now again on Caripare.

The Jaguar’s Mists would not be able to hold against such elite opposition, not as battered as they are. Furthermore, a quick glance at the overall status of her unit indicated that they were almost out of ammunition as well, greatly reducing their combat effectiveness.

“Fighting withdrawal, stagger by star,” ordered Avryl. “Pence, your Star goes first.”

“Aff, Star Captain,” he replied tersely.

She switched channels to the other two Star Captains. “Drigin, Jolen, pull your binaries out behind me. Sending you the nav points.” They did not reply, but their movements showed that they were complying with her orders.

“Star Captain, they are almost on top of us.” Camille warned. “Company specs identical to Tanh Linh… I hope you still have some tricks up your sleeves!”

“Neg, I am plain out of tricks,” Avryl admitted. She noted with dismay that some of the Slash Slicers were moving more slowly than expected. Jolen’s Avatar was clearly hobbled, dragging one leg behind it laboriously. At this rate, the War Pigs would engage them before her binary could cover their retreat.

She had to gamble again. She opened up the open comms channel, even as she moved her battered Spirit Walker forward, her Command Star following.

“Hauptmann Finn, been a while since Tanh Linh. Missed me? You should have brought flowers.” Avryl almost gagged as she spoke, but she just needed to rile him up. She briefly thought about mentioning their little adventure, but decided it was not worth the resulting questions from others.

“Sorry, Star Captain. No flowers. I prefer dark chocolate.” Finn Rason replied almost immediately, his tone sardonic and mocking. “You can find out what they taste like after this. I’ll be sure to send you some.”

“In your dreams, freebirth!” She snarled, firing her particle cannon at its extreme range at the nearest target, a Stealth that was leading a light lance on a wide flanking movement. The particle beam missed, and the Stealth continued charging at an angle. Well, it was worth a shot, especially after Bicester when she took down a Victor at such extreme ranges.

Jolen and some of his stragglers joined in, their weapons lashing out to try to keep the Spheroids at bay, but the damage they had already taken greatly reduced their combat effectiveness.

The light lance led by the Stealth easily encircled Jolen’s stragglers on one flank, placing themselves in a deadly enfilade position. Meanwhile, the other two lances of the War Pigs utilised concentrated fire on the targets within their reach, autocannons and particle beams blasting apart one Jaguar mech at a time. One of the trailing mechs, a crippled Grand Dragon, went down, both legs shot off.

Avryl marched her Spirit Walker closer, trying to buy time for Jolen and his remaining units. Erlin’s Blackjack-O and Gast’s Night Chanter stood to each side of her Spirit Walker, their weapons blazing away. They had to make the enemy recoil! Meanwhile, Camille tried to draw the light lance out of position with baiting runs from her Owens, but to no avail, the War Pigs were too disciplined. Larris’ Strider was already out of LRM ammunition, and withdrawing from the battle.

One of her particle beams caught Finn’s Rifleman on the torso, flaying off much of the armour there. The heavy mech paused, as if affronted by the act. Then all four of the gun barrels on its arms shifted in her direction.

At that moment, the entirety of the War Pigs seemed to focus on her. Lasers, autocannons, and missiles pounded her mech mercilessly, she was thrown around violently in her cockpit, and the armour display on her HUD seemed to turn completely red in an instant. Warning klaxons blared, Betty bitched about damaged components, and heat surged into her cockpit with the loss of reactor shielding.

Through it all, she somehow managed to keep her Saber Knight upright, but only just. It cost her several precious moments, and then she looked up, right into the Rifleman’s guns, which aimed straight at her, at her cockpit.

She swore she could see the glow from within the gun barrels, and was prepared to die when Jolen suddenly interposed his wrecked Avatar in front of her, his mech shaking as he absorbed the shots meant for her.

“Star Captain Showers, retreat. I and my warriors will hold them off. We cannot run far anyway.” Two more of his Slicers formed up beside him, looking just as battered. They would not last long, but they did not have to.

She did not argue, and turned the Spirit Walker into a stumbling run. Her Command Star trailed her, all of them twisting back occasionally to fire off a shot in support. But it was far too little to make any difference.

Saber Knight crested a hill, and before descending it, Avryl took one last look behind her. Finn’s Rifleman had already advanced up to Jolen’s Avatar, now a shambling wreck on the ground, but still moving. In most circumstances, the mech on the ground would have powered down and signalled surrender, but Jolen kept shifting about, trying to angle his mech to fire off a few more shots.

He would not get that chance. The Rifleman marched right up beside the struggling Avatar. It raised a foot and then stomped it down viciously on Jolen’s Avatar, crushing the cockpit. Dust and sand billowed up from the impact, and the Avatar finally laid still.

Jolen was certainly dead.

Avryl gave the Rifleman a final glare, even though she knew that Jolen had not given Finn a choice. This was war at its rawest, all blood and fury, no quarter given nor asked for. She had done the same herself before. War to the knife, and knife to the hilt. And she expected Finn to do no less either.

It was their duty as mechwarriors.

With that thought in mind, she followed the rest of her battered binary into the temporary refuge of the Trevorton Mountains.

 
Kalinska Estate, Inman,
Milligan PDZ, Woodbine Operational Area,
12th October, 3061
2200 hours (1400 hrs on local 28 hr cycle)

“What is eating you?” asked Hawise as she lounged in Anastasia’s room. “You have this weird look ever since our last round in the simulator.”

Anastasia paused in the midst of absent-mindedly rearranging the cosmetics on her vanity. “Is it that obvious?”

All throughout the past ten months, the fact that she and Finn had tried to kill each other, almost did so, and had killed the other’s comrades, had never really struck home - she had been too caught up in her own unique circumstances to think about the matter. But now it had finally been driven home, and she was confused.

Hawise rolled her eyes. “Kit, it really is that obvious.”

Anastaisa sighed. “When you pointed the Rifleman’s weapons at me in the simulator fight, I recalled Finn doing the same thing back on Caripare. If not for the intervention of another warrior, he could have killed me back then. Yet here I am, his fiancee, with my memories of those brutal days of war. Many of the clan’s warriors died at his hands. And I, too, have killed many.”

Memories of the slaughter on Tanh Linh reappeared in her mind, when her binary blasted through the conventional regiments arrayed against them in a desperate attempt to hit the supply depots. She lowered her head. “Was what I did wrong? These memories resurface to haunt me.”

“All of us, we were soldiers.” Hawise pointed out. “We all knew what the risks were, what could happen to us. He did not engage in any dishonourable behaviour, quineg?”

“Neg.” Anastasia shook her head. “Well, other than not adhering to zellbrigen during battle, but that is something we all succumbed to, in the end.”

Hawise chuckled. “I did not adhere to zellbrigen myself on Hoard, yet you do not seem to hold it against me.”

“That is… different.”

“How is it different?” asked Hawise. “Simply because I am of the clans and he is not? I killed your comrades too, on Hoard.”

“Tikern and his cohorts were stravag bullies,” Anastasia stated flatly. “They were my comrades, but not my friends. Honestly speaking, I was more upset about failing the mission back then.”

“Oh…” Hawise was silent for a moment, then said, “I think I know what the problem is. Your head knows that Finn did nothing wrong, he was a warrior doing his duty, and that is something we all understand on an intellectual level. But,” she laid a hand gently on Anastasia’s hand, “your heart says different. Unlike me, he killed people you knew and maybe cared about. You have yet to come to terms with that loss.”

“Will that feeling ever go away?” Anastasia asked quietly.

“No easy answers to your question, unfortunately.” Hawise patted her hand. “You just have to take it one day at a time. Give your heart time to heal. Everything I have seen so far tells me Finn Rason is pretty decent for a Spheroid. And,” her eyes twinkled mischievously, “he is rich and handsome, so that counts in his favour, quiaff?”

Anastasia grunted disapprovingly at the flippant comment. Before she could reply, however, Luisa peeked through the door. “My lady! Viscount Rason is back! His dropship just landed about two hours ago.”

Hawise grinned. “And he is bound to be here soon. I had better make myself scarce.” She walked over to the door, where Luisa had pushed it open for her to exit. “Just one last thing. You… him, me… we were all doing our duty, caught up in something greater than ourselves, beyond our control. I don’t think anybody was really wrong, at least at our level. It was just the way things turned out.” She walked off, leaving behind an extremely confused Luisa.

“What did Lady Hawise mean?” asked the maid. “What duty?”

“Oh Luisa, it’s nothing.” Anastasia reassured her. “I need to change into something a bit more presentable, especially if Viscount Rason is coming here. Help me out?”

“My pleasure!”

Anastasia had just finished changing when another maid informed them that Finn had indeed arrived at the estate, as expected.

“The drawing room, please,” Anastasia instructed even as she headed for it. The maid scurried off.

She was already seated with the tea set neatly arrayed on the table when Finn walked in, clad in his usual uniform. Up til that point, Anastasia was still struggling to reconcile her emotions with her thoughts. She rose to greet him with a curtsey, and despite her troubled feelings, her eyes drank in the sight of him. He has lost weight… was the fighting that intense? Judging from the intensity of his gaze, he was doing the same to her.

“You’ve gotten thin,” they said simultaneously. Then they realised what just happened, and they both blushed.

Finn was the first to respond. “Uhm, how are you, my lady? I’m sorry I didn’t contact you the moment I landed, but don’t you think it was a bit cruel not to reply to any of the messages I’ve sent you? I sent one a month ago, and another two weeks ago.”

She stared at him. “I didn’t? I didn’t even receive any messages.” She sighed. “But there was news of the local HPG core undergoing repairs after a Word of Blake software worm got through their firewalls.”

He sighed as well, “So much for Comstar’s reliability. And at a bad time too. Did you know how much I looked forward to hearing from you?”

Anastasia felt flustered. “I’m sorry, I could have sent a message on one of the jumpships to Winfield.”

“Nothing for you to be sorry about.” He raised a hand to her face. “I hurried back to you as fast as I could. I’ve kept you waiting for me for far too long.”

At that moment, all that Anastasia could remember was staring down the barrels of his Rifleman, and the sight of his Rifleman stomping on Jolen’s Avatar. Without thinking, she flinched away from him.

He lowered his hand. “Did something happen while I was away?”

Unable to meet his gaze, she said, “No… nothing.”

“Is that so?” He looked at Anastasia. Her face was pale and withdrawn. “The expression on your face suggests otherwise. You look rather weary.” He hastened to add, “My lady, if there is anything I can do to…”

“Was the pirate problem settled?” She cut in hurriedly, trying hard not to let him go down that line of conversation.

Finn stared at her for a moment. He knew what she was trying to do, changing the subject, and she knew it too. He finally said, “Yes, the whole thing was a bit of a setup, but we managed to resolve it satisfactorily.”

“What exactly happened?”

“The intel Clifton’s Rangers got was accurate, but it was actually leaked by a rival pirate group. A local noble on Abbeville was in cahoots with them. They launched a raid, and we reached in time to stop them.”

“What did you do to the noble?” asked Anastasia, though she already suspected the answer.

“I executed him and those in his household who were complicit in the crime. No trial there, I’m afraid.”

It took her a moment to remember that the ‘trial’ he referred to was the long drawn out legal processes used on more developed worlds in the Inner Sphere, instead of the clan version which usually involved a contest of some sort.

“I see. And then…”

Finn replied quickly, as though knowing she would ask, “His family would be under house arrest, and his heir warded under their liege-lord’s stewardship until she reaches her majority.” In other words, the child was a hostage of sorts.

She nodded slowly. Given the circumstances, this was actually a very appropriate level of punishment. In the Smoke Jaguars, they would be much more punitive. Hard labour followed by execution was normal for non-warrior castes who broke the laws of the clans. And in the Occupation Zone, she had heard of far worse fates levied on those who refused to accept the Smoke Jaguars as their rulers. If the crimes were serious enough, not even their families were spared.

If she was in Finn’s position, she would have done the same. Or perhaps even worse. So who was she to judge him?

Finn sighed. “You don’t seem at all happy to see me.”

“Huh?” She was shaken out of her thoughts.

His voice was grim. “Are you afraid of me too? Of what I did, executing people? Is that why you’re looking at me like that?”

She stared back up at him, her mind suddenly blank as she struggled to think through the morass of conflicting emotions. “No, no, it’s nothing like that. But…” she admitted quietly, “I’m not entirely sure myself. It’s just…”

She squeezed her eyes shut. “Would you mind leaving me be for today? I don’t really feel like talking to anyone at the moment.”

Finn looked down at her, his face impassive, and she hated pushing him away like this, but she really felt trapped, unable to speak.

He sighed quietly, deflated and defeated. “As you wish.” He stepped away, headed towards the door.

“I’m glad to see you’ve returned safely,” said Anastasia as he reached the door, and she realised belatedly that she truly meant it, yet she still did not know what to do with her mixed-up feelings.

She could hear the creak of the door as he opened it and walked through, leaving her alone in the drawing room with her thoughts and emotions.
---------------------------------------
Notes:
Anybody spotted the callback to an earlier chapter? Avryl/Anastasia didn’t forget, and actually knew what Finn liked. But of course, she still couldn’t be sure if he was just taunting her back then.

The part about the Jaguars withdrawing through the Trevorton Mountains was canon. From TRO 3058 Upgrade, the writeup for the Salamander Battle Armour:

“Rear guard action fell to a mixed Nova which included a Star of new Salamanders. Star Commander Tomas positioned her Star across the enemy’s path in the heavily forested piedmont of the Trevorton Mountains. Setting forest fires which both concealed the movements of the escaping Jaguars and funneled the Inner Sphere pursuers into a narrow valley, the Salamanders hid themselves in the walls of flame. Using their Inferno rounds and flamers to good effect, Tomas and her Star destroyed three light scout Mechs before heavier BattleMechs flushed them from cover. Though only two Salamanders survived to rejoin their Nova, the Inner Sphere forces delayed over four hours making sure there were no more waiting in ambush before following. This delay allowed nearly a Trinary of the Second Jaguars to escape.”

[lowrolling]

Very nice write up and thanks for tying in some things from previous posts. Hopefully Anastasia can work through her feeling of and for Finn to at least have him as an ally to get even with Pence. The odds seem to be getting better for her with each passing day.

Great ride as always and thanks for the continuation.

[Wrangler]

Great action pack chapter, I am little confused.  Perhaps going back and forth in time maybe it.

One point there is a battle on Caripare, the she remembering her fight with Flinn on Tanh Linh.  The jumps seem either the wrong world was noted in the retreat or this was two split events.

[The Wobbly Guy]

Great action pack chapter, I am little confused.  Perhaps going back and forth in time maybe it.

One point there is a battle on Caripare, the she remembering her fight with Flinn on Tanh Linh.  The jumps seem either the wrong world was noted in the retreat or this was two split events.

Yeah, I get that it's a bit confusing, because the sequence of events does jump around.

There were several encounters before and during Bulldog:

In chronological order:
1. First encounter on Bicester
2. Adventure in uncharted (sort of) system near Baruun Urt
3. Battle on Tanh Linh during Bulldog Wave 1
4. Battle on Caripare during Bulldog Wave 2
5. Battle on Yamarovka during SJ counterattack

[The Wobbly Guy]

Haynes Palatial Manor, Inman,
Milligan PDZ, Woodbine Operational Area,
19th October, 3061
0100 hours (1300 hrs on local 28 hr cycle)

“Two brothers fighting over a lady’s hand!”

“What could the Count’s silence signify?”

“A serious new suitor emerges… the possibilities are endless!”

The news media were in a tizzy recently, eagerly speculating on local and domestic issues.

“You’ve thrown your hat into the ring for the Countship in truly spectacular fashion,” remarked Glenn.

Raymond smirked. “Are you speaking of my scandalous affair with Lady Codina? So they’ve written another article about it today.”

“It’s all over the news outlets. They’ll be scrutinising your every move from now on.”

“Hmmm…” Raymond considered his current position. He had already secured support from a significant portion of the merchants and blue-collar workers, and many in the middle class had a favourable view of him.

This recent political development had led the local aristocracy, which had been focused on the succession issue of the Federated Commonwealth, to open up yet another issue of contention. Due to Renard’s outspoken support of Katrina Steiner, the split occurred more or less along those lines - those who supported Renard also supported Katrina, while those who supported Katrina also supported Renard, forming a fairly strong and united bloc.

On the other hand, not all those who supported Victor, or at least opposed to Katrina as Archon-Princess, were ready to back Raymond either, and vice versa. Which was perfectly understandable, since he himself had not taken up any position on that issue. Until he declared for Victor, it was difficult for him to count on support from many of them, and he was loathe to do so because the former Prince himself seemed to have given up and was hiding away on Luthien!

He could declare against Katrina without declaring for Victor though, and that was a position he was strongly considering. Even if it was not an outright endorsement for Victor’s return, it should be sufficient to gain him the support of those who opposed Katrina. Furthermore, there were still three more Steiner-Davions who could be eligible - Peter, whose whereabouts were unknown, Yvonne, who could yet fulfil the military service requirements, and Arthur, who was currently a promising cadet at the Robinson Battle Academy.

But regardless, he had to forge forward with what he had now, and work harder to gather more support. For himself, Venice, and the people of the Trivet.

“My lord, how about ditching your glasses?”

“Hmmm?”

“They don’t really fit well when you’re wearing your neurohelmet.”

Raymond chuckled as he slid the glasses off. “I supposed it’s finally time to bid adieu to my bookworm facade.”

Glenn scowled. “It’s high time you did so.”

“You have to understand, I’ve worn these glasses for so long, they’ve become something of a security blanket. I feel naked without them.” He paused, staring at the glasses in his hand, then added, “And I could be more carefree with these on, as no one ever expected anything from me.”

Glenn shrugged unsympathetically. “At this year’s hunt though, you’ll need to excel and show them what you are capable of.”

Every few years, when the peak of the wet season aligned with Landing Day on the 23rd of October, the nobles would hold a dangerous hunt to commemorate the landing of the very first wave of settlers in their dropshuttles on Inman. It would take place in the várzea forests in the northern region of the central continent where Innerman City was located, populated by massive creatures. Nobles participating in the hunt would use specially modified industrial mechs to traverse the terrain and water to hunt the local fauna. The participants were then judged on the number and size of the creatures they managed to capture or kill.

And this would be the very first time Raymond participated. A good showing would display his abilities as a mechwarrior, which would greatly enhance his claim to the Countship, as the feudal structure of the Inner Sphere conferred much legitimacy to mechwarriors. For example, part of the opposition to Katrina Steiner-Davion, was that she was not a mechwarrior, nor a warrior of any type at all. There would always be a significant part of the aristocracy and military which would not countenance a ruler without any martial skills.

Personally, Raymond had always found it silly. What relation did the ability to fight have to do with the ability to govern? In fact, the entire bloody history of the Succession Wars could be blamed on the rulers of the Great Houses being warriors by nature and training, who could not conceive of alternatives other than war. Then there were the Clans, the ultimate example of a society ruled by warriors, and they were certainly a clear warning of everything that was wrong with such a system!

However, he also knew that all these were outcomes caused by the basic human need for safety, and who better to provide that safety in a feudal society than a mechwarrior noble? Honestly, a warship would be even better, but it was off in space, and not visible, while a mech could be seen. Hence, all the political struggles, war, and whatnot, all stemming from very basic human demands and urges.

If Katrina Steiner-Davion had been more honest in her political handling of matters, he would not have minded her as a ruler. But her succession of the Lyran Alliance, letting the Sarna March fall, then coming back to the Federated Commonwealth just as matters seemed to be deteriorating? It all smacked of political opportunism, not helped by the reports he had obtained of how she handled domestic opposition to her rule.

Glenn added emphatically, “It’s time for the nobles of the Trivet to find out just how sharp your fangs are.”

“Poetic words to hear from you Glenn,” Raymond grinned, “It seems you’ve been in my company for far too long.”

“Ahem!” Glenn coughed in mild embarrassment. “Speaking of, Viscount Rason made a sudden announcement of his intention to participate in the activities.”

Raymond arched an eyebrow. “Did he now? What peculiar behaviour from a man who rarely engages in these sorts of activities. Perhaps he simply needs to let off some steam.” Raymond thought about it, then said, “Come to think of it, isn’t Lady Kalinska attending as well?”

“Yes, my lord. She is attending. That both are attending this year’s competition is also the talk of the town right now.”

Raymond thought hard. Avryl Showers, who is inhabiting Anastasia Kalinska’s body, and Finn… I had better keep an eye on the two of them.

He looked at Glenn. “Let’s get ready.”

[The Wobbly Guy]

Galicia Hills,
23rd October, 3061
0230 hours (0630 hrs on local 28 hr cycle)

The Galicia Hills were located right on the edge of the massive várzea forests, and thus the traditional starting point for the competitive hunt. Years ago during the heyday of the Star League, House Haynes had established a small town specifically to support the event, and nobles, media, and commoners with ample financial means would flock to the town every time the competition was held.

Located far to the north of Innerman City, it was a drive of about three days over relatively well-maintained roads to reach the town. There also used to be a small airstrip, but it had fallen into disuse. Nevertheless, the technological and economic renaissance percolating through the Inner Sphere gave hope that it might be possible for Inman to one day be able to become a first rate world instead of a mere backwater, and rich enough to reopen the airstrip for general use.

With Inman’s short orbital period, it was not always easy for Landing Day to coincide with the peak of the short, sharp wet season where the várzea forests would be fully flooded with water from the whitewater and clearwater rivers that run across the entire area. The last time the competition was held was five years ago, and the general rule of thumb was that the competition could be held every four to five years.

It was still dark, but dawn was breaking. The actual competition would start soon after. Most of the nobles were already gathered, waiting for the competition to officially begin. The blocky modified mechs to be used were already lined up at various spots around the town, while crews were also preparing the cargo boats that would help the hunters transport their hunting prizes and reload their harpoon cannons. Finally, members of the media roamed around, looking out for events of interest and people to interview.

To most of the public, Landing Day was just another public holiday, but to the nobles, it was an opportunity to show off their skills, wealth, or both. The initial landings had been smooth, until the colonists came across the várzea forests, and realised that taming the area would devour resources and manpower they could not afford.

Nevertheless, after several years, some people, possessed of more guts than sense, tried their luck at hunting the dangerous megafauna prey in the flooded várzea forests, which eventually developed into the ritualistic hunt format, complete with ancient modified mechs which were carefully maintained and dated back to the Star League.

Two noble ladies gossiped in a corner.

“Oh, there’s the Count!” The ruler of the Trivet sat on a chair and sipped quietly from his glass of juice, attended to by a servant. “I heard he hasn’t participated for many years now, and this is the first time he’s even turned up in ages!”

“Oh really? Why is he here this time then?”

“Perhaps he wishes to observe the performance of his two sons? Even the Countess is present, and she almost never attends outdoor activities like this one. She didn’t turn up at the hoverbike race.”

“Yeah, Raymond Haynes is starting to distinguish himself as a potential successor to the Countship.”

“I find myself quite looking forward to this hunt.”

“Of course! We all know this competition is really a fight between Renard and Raymond for Lady Codina’s hand.”

“Between the two of them, who do you think is…” The lady cut herself off with a gasp as she saw something in her peripheral vision.

“I too am looking forward to today’s hunt,” said Venice sweetly as she smiled at the two ladies.

“Lady Codina!”

“The breeze from the mountain is quite strong today, wouldn’t you agree?” asked Venice rhetorically. “You’d best be careful not to let your voices be carried by the wind.”

They gulped in unison and nodded quickly, understanding the meaning behind her words. One lady said, “It’s been so long since we’ve last seen you, Lady Codina. You look as lovely as always.” The usual pleasantries were always the safest topics.

The other lady quickly added, “Oh, by the way, congratulations on your recent engagement, Lady Codina.”

“Thank you,” replied Venice sincerely. Ana should have arrived yesterday and be done with her preparations by now. I wonder where she is? There’s so much I wish to tell her…

A murmur swept through the gathered nobles.

“Oh! Is that Sir Raymond Haynes?”

Venice turned to see Raymond striding confidently towards her. He wore a mechwarrior’s combat vest and shorts, with only a jacket thrown over to retain some semblance of modesty. A bulky neurohelmet was cradled in one arm. Without his usual glasses, he looked every inch a mechwarrior, his lean and muscled physique confusing people who were used to seeing him as a bookish nerd.

“Look!”

“My goodness, who knew Raymond Haynes looked like that?”

“I thought he just spent all his days poring over books?”

“I can’t believe he looks like a real mechwarrior now.”

One of the ladies turned to Venice. “Lady Codina! You knew, didn’t you?”

Venice smiled demurely in response, but did not say anything. Now that he’s declared his intentions to fight for the Countship, it’s only natural that he discloses his true self. But I have to admit that I feel a bit sad that others will now get to see a side of him only I knew.

“Venice!” Raymond called out to her.

“My lord!” I also know that his current image was calculated down to the smallest detail. Still, she knew the part she had to play, and she would not let him down. He extended his right hand to her, which she took in her own right hand. They drew near to each other, eyes locked together.

Any onlooker would see a couple passionately in love, exactly what they needed to portray to the world. But all Venice could feel deep inside her was a quiet dread of an actress when approaching the end of a well-orchestrated play, the pang of guilt for the lies she was spreading, and the storms in her heart. Is this truly what I want?

Raymond took a step, taking him closer, then his hands came up to attach a brooch to her dress. He then knelt down in front of her.

“I wish you the very best of luck, my lord,” Venice pressed the handkerchief she had personally embroidered into his hand.

“Should I win, know that I do so in your honour, my lady.” He bowed his head as though in supplication.

Another murmur ran through the crowd.

“Who knew the two of them looked so perfect together?”

A lady squealed, “They seem so happy!”

As Raymond stood up, everybody could see clearly the fine stitching on the handkerchief he carried.

Somebody pointed out, “Oh, that embroidery on her token symbolises both Sir Haynes and House Codina.”

“Oh my!”

 

The ceremony of exchanging tokens before the hunt… Anastasia stood to one side under a tree, watching the scene play out before her. So he means to give it his best shot. Venice also looked a lot happier than before too.

Did Finn prepare a brooch as well? She sighed quietly. Or rather… would he even accept my token? She dared not even look at the handkerchief in her hands. Despite her best efforts, she could barely embroider anything onto the handkerchief. Madame Iris, as blunt as ever, said her attempts at embroidery were hideous and it would be better for her to keep it as simple as possible. She wrung the handkerchief with a plain design in her hands, not knowing how to react if Finn approached her.

As Avryl, she had lived her entire life in the Clans far removed from such ladylike pursuits, and she could not even understand why she suddenly felt so ashamed over something like this. Exchange of tokens? Such things were unknown in the clans. What need was there for such tokens before a Trial of Position, of Bloodright, of Possession, of Refusal, or Grievance? Far better to ensure that their equipment was in optimal condition and ready for battle, than to waste time and energy on such frivolous matters.

So why did she feel so disappointed in herself?

She had not received any word from Finn since they parted that day, and she only first knew of his participation in the hunt from Luisa, who seemed firmly plugged in the gossip network that involved all the servants in the various noble households in the Trivet.

Anastasia looked up, and jolted in surprise to see Finn standing just across her. He was also clad in a mechwarrior vest, shorts and boots, one hand holding his neurohelmet and another hand in the pocket of the jacket he wore.

When did he get there? What should she say? What if he was disappointed in her token? Anastasia was still confused with both her feelings, and also her failure at making a decent token for him. She stood paralysed as he walked up to her, an impassive expression on his face.

Here, I am not a mechwarrior. I can only convey my convictions to him as a lady. It was awkward, but she steeled her resolve by taking a deep breath to muster her courage. Let me first give him my token.

“I wish you the very best of luck on today’s hunt.” She said firmly to him, holding out the handkerchief with the simple design.

He nodded solemnly, then his hand pulled a sapphire brooch out from the jacket pocket, and perfunctorily placed it on her hand while taking the handkerchief from it. He took hold of her other hand and leaned over to place a kiss on it.

She could not help but flinch a bit when he said, “I shall win in your honour.”

Then he just dropped her hand and turned to walk away, leaving a flabbergasted Anastasia floundering at the suddenness of the exchange. “Oh, what? Wait…” Her stammered words trailed off hesitantly as he walked away.

Their short exchange did not go unnoticed.

“Did you see that?”

“What happened?”

“Their ceremony of exchanging tokens was rather… abrupt, don’t you think?”

“They didn’t even exchange proper greetings.”

“Indeed…”

Is that it? You’re not the only one who was feeling awkward here! But still… She stared down at the sapphire brooch in her hand. What was she doing? She did not even need to attend this event in the first place, she could have made up some kind of excuse to avoid it. Receiving such an item, not as a trueborn clan mechwarrior, but as a noble lady of the Inner Sphere… Avryl would have thrown it away without a second thought.

“Aren’t you going to put it on?” asked Venice as she walked up to Anastasia. She took a closer look. “Ana, are you unwell? You appear rather dazed and upset.”

“Oh… it’s nothing.” Anastasia tried to deflect the observation.

“Did you two have a fight?”

“Not exactly.”

“I see.” Venice did not seem convinced, but her friend also knew better than to press her. And even if she did, Anastasia did not even know what her answers would be!

She decided to change the subject. “It seems a lot has happened since last we spoke. How is Sir Raymond?”

“...” Venice was silent for a while, then she said, “I suppose he is the perfect suitor.”

This time, it was Anastasia’s turn to not press the matter. Venice sounds grumpy… how unlike her. She took a while to respond. And her expression is completely different from just now too.

Before either of them could speak, a voice cut in.

“Lady Kalinska.”

They turned to see a dapper looking Spencer Larouche approach them, wearing a sardonic smile. Like Raymond and Finn, he was also clad in mechwarrior attire. Anastasia could see the hints of scars peeking out from below the cooling vest, souvenirs of past battles in the clans.

Anastasia was put on guard immediately. Why is he talking to us?

Venice reacted first, offering him a curtsy. “Greetings, Sir Spencer Larouche. It’s been far too long since we last met.”

Pence just smiled widely. “Ah yes, I agree. It’s nice to finally meet up again, isn’t it?” He looked pointedly at Anastasia. “I had wanted to speak longer to your friend during the Kentares Day activities, but it seemed she had a bit of a problem holding her alcohol.”

“What are you doing here?” asked Anastasia, not caring one whit about propriety.

He smiled nastily. “I noticed you received a token from Viscount Rason. Although you have yet to don it, I see.”

“What of it?” she challenged.

“Please do me the honour of wearing my brooch as your token.” He extended his arm, a ruby brooch in his hand.

She stared at him in shock.

Pence continued, a sinister smirk on his face. “It would give me great pleasure if you would do so.”

Oh sure, he would. It was nothing less than harassment!

She could hear the muttering of the onlookers.

“Oh my, did you just hear that?”

“Sir Spencer Larouche and Lady Anastasia Kalinska…”

“He must be perfectly aware that giving a lady his token is a declaration of love…”

“Maybe that’s why Viscount Rason and Lady Kalinska were so awkward with each other just now!”

Steadfastly ignoring the muttering around her, Anastasia levelled a glare at Pence. “I respectfully decline your offer.”

The smile on his face did not abate. “Then accept it at the very least.”

“I refuse.”

“Ana,” Venice leaned over and whispered into her ear, “In this situation, accepting his token would be the polite thing to do.” Anastasia recognised the subtext of what Venice was trying to tell her too. Everybody is watching me right now.

Venice continued to whisper, “People are bound to gossip for ages about your lack of character over the callous way you treated Sir Larouche.”

Then let them judge my character to their hearts’ content. Anastasia remained unmoved. She said sternly to Pence, “Let me be perfectly clear. Your having prepared something for me does not obligate me to accept it.”

“Furthermore, I am already betrothed to Viscount Rason.” She finally smirked at him. “I’m sure there are plenty of ladies eager to receive your token, so why are you so insistent on approaching me and depriving them of your delightful company?” You are just out to make a scene? I will not hold back either.

That set off another round of murmurs from the crowd. Indeed, it was no secret that Spencer Larouche was looking for a wife, but to approach an already betrothed lady? No matter how estranged Anastasia seemed to be from Finn, until they cancelled the engagement, it was still unacceptable for Larouche to pursue her.

He finally sighed. “To refuse the brooch I’ve prepared for you… how heartbreaking. Well, that renders this token useless.” He knelt down and placed the token on the ground in front of Anastasia.

Wait, what? She was so shocked she could not react for a moment.

“To you I shall give all my glory, even if you choose to refuse it.” His tone was perfectly sincere, with only the barest trace of mockery.

She stared down at him for long moments, wondering why he was still kneeling in front of her and not standing up. His persistence for the dramatic had already drawn an inordinate amount of attention, and she hated for the scene to become more of a spectacle than it already was.

“Ah, here you are, Sir Larouche!” Raymond Haynes called out, walking towards them. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you.”

Pence finally stood up in response. “Greetings, my lord. How may I be of service?”

“I wish to discuss some of the finer points of mech piloting with you… as a veteran of the Clan Invasion, you must have some pointers for me to glean. I realise this request was quite abrupt, but I hope you’ll indulge me.”

Just then, they all heard the sound of trumpets, signalling the imminent start of the hunt. Already, Anastasia could see the mechs starting to march off, each accompanied by a boat crewed by their retinue.

Raymond exclaimed, “Oh, there’s the sound of the trumpets… let us hurry!”

As the two men started walking off, Raymond glanced in Anastasia’s direction, and he remarked with a smile, “Lady Kalinska, you are a lady of infinite charms.”

She barely suppressed a harsh retort, and when Pence also looked back at her with a malicious smirk, she glared back at him. What are you looking at, surat?

Raymond muttered to Pence, “Now, we need to get to our mechs.” The other man nodded in agreement as they finally walked briskly away.

Anastasia stared after them, trying to reign in her anger at Pence. What is that genescum thinking? What is his purpose for putting up this facade of pursuing me? I really cannot figure it out.

“Why aren’t you picking up his token?” Anastasia heard a woman ask her.

She turned to see Lady Jesslyn Xiomara, the daughter of a barony on Inman, walk toward them, anger and jealousy warring on her pretty face, even though the bottom half of her face was hidden behind a fan. Anastasia thought, is this what he’s after? To get jealous ladies to go after me? Well, it is not going to work as he thinks.

She asked back, “And why should I, Lady Xiomara?”

The lady flinched, obviously unprepared for Anastasia’s blunt response. Then she quickly rallied. “He offered the brooch for your sake, didn’t he? It is impolite for you to dismiss the consideration he showed.”

“For my sake?” scoffed Anastasia. “Even if that is true, why should I have to accept his token?”

“Because he was thinking of you!” She snapped the fan closed.

“So?” Anastasia’s reply was blunt.

“So… well…” Again, Lady Xiomara was left scrambling for a response.

Anastasia pressed further. “Am I required to accept any gift offered by someone who was thinking of me? I’m really curious to know.”

“Urgh!” Lady Xiomara trembled with anger, obviously realising that there was no logical counterargument. She still burst out, “Think about it! You should be grateful someone is thinking of you at all!” Sbe levelled the fan in her hand at Anastasia. “There was no need to be so cruel!”

“You’re right. That is something to be grateful for,” conceded Anastasia. Then she added sternly, “That being said, should I be forced to accept something I do not wish to simply because it is something to be grateful for?”

She continued, “If that is the case, then Sir Spencer Larouche wasn’t actually being considerate of me, for he would be coercing me into accepting something I did not want.”

“Co… coerced you? How could you say such a thing?” Lady Xiomara looked so angry Anastasia thought she would start foaming at the mouth any time soon.

Anastasia spoke slowly, as though explaining to a child, “Being forced to accept something one does not want, if that isn’t coercion, what would you call it?”

Lady Xiomara still did not seem to want to concede anything. “Why would you refuse so staunchly to accept something given with sincerity? Don’t you possess even the slightest modicum of kindness?” She huffed angrily. “It is apparent you lack a key virtue all ladies should possess… kindness!”

Anastasia chuckled. “Kindness is being considerate, is it not? Why should I be expected to show consideration here? I am certainly not obligated to do so. Moreover…” She glared at Lady Xiomara. “I have yet to comprehend why you are so insistent about this.” The implication hung in the air for a moment, obvious for all the onlookers.

Without waiting for a reply, Anastasia plunged on. “Let’s say I did accept the brooch. Wouldn’t it just lead to Sir Larouche misunderstanding my intentions?” She frowned. “And rumours would start circulating that I am an dishonourable woman for giving Sir Larouche the wrong impression. If I did as you suggested, Lady Xiomara, I would sully my honour, also an important virtue for a lady.”

Her stare could bore holes in steel. “It is better to be direct and forthright. I believe that’s what it truly means to be considerate.”

Lady Xiomara could find no reply, and instead flushed with embarrassment.

Anastasia concluded firmly, “Offering me a brooch without taking my perspective into account isn't being considerate.”

Lady Xiomara seemed to have found a seam of attack. “Then why aren’t you wearing the brooch Viscount Rason gave you? That’s…”

“I’m afraid that’s none of your business.” Anastasia cut her off.

“What did you just say?” Lady Xiomara replied indignantly.

“As you said, I fear I do not possess the virtue of kindness.” Anastasia smirked. “So let us leave the matter at that.”

Knowing that there was no way for her to salvage the situation, Lady Xiomara huffed away angrily. With the victor of the argument clearly decided, the crowd finally dispersed in search of other entertainment.

Anastasia kept up her poise until she was sure everybody else had dispersed, before dropping her shoulders with a groan.

Venice spoke, “Ana, what you just did…”

She sighed, “I know, what I did was unwise. I broke one of the key rules of high society for ladies, which is to never make enemies.”

Venice shook her head. “No, you did well.”

“Really?” Anastasia blinked in surprise.

“If I had been in your shoes, I would’ve accepted the brooch and simply demonstrated my true feelings by not wearing it. Rejecting it outright, however, wasn’t wrong either.” She fingered her own brooch on her dress, given to her by Raymond. “Putting on a display in front of others about one’s feelings and demanding that the other person respond to them… is also an act of coercion.”

“And that isn’t really being considerate, is it? The other noble ladies must have thought similarly, which is why none of them offered to back Lady Xiomara up.” She smiled brightly at Anastasia. “Ana, the way I do things isn’t always right.”

“Huh?”

“You stayed true to yourself back there. I just wanted to tell you how much I admire you for it.”

Anastasia blushed with the praise. By the Founder, the ease with which she speaks such embarrassing words will never cease to startle me. Unable to reply, she just pretended to have difficulty clearing her throat.

Anastasia stared into the distance. The last few straggling mechs were moving off from their berths, carefully wading into the water. These were industrial mechs, locally called Waterbugs, specially modified for hunting in the flooded várzea forests, equipped with fuel cell engines that could operate without air and environmentally sealed for underwater operations. Each mech was also equipped with banks of bulky propellers on their rear torsos, enabling them to move through the water slowly instead of just trudging on the bottom.

She recalled that just before Operation Bulldog, reports had trickled out of the homeworlds about the Goliath Scorpions achieving some kind of engineering feat regarding underwater maneuvering units that allowed battlearmor to traverse underwater much more effectively. She idly wondered if it was possible to upscale the technology and apply it to mechs. Several times during her raids into the Draconis Combine, such propulsion systems certainly would have been useful in setting up ambushes near water bodies, or to provide unexpected attack angles on fortified targets. Even more so if they could be pod-mounted and hence omnimech compatible.

As it was, the current propellers installed on these mechs were simply too inefficient, only able to move the mechs underwater at ten kilometres per hour despite taking up so much mass, far too slow for any military operation.

The Waterbugs themselves were equipped with a claw and an explosive harpoon cannon that required a manual reload after every shot. This setup enabled them to subdue, trap, or even kill the beasts that roamed the flooded forests. Nevertheless, it was still a dangerous undertaking. Some of the animals that swam through the forests were local analogues of sharks, orcas, and even some unique monsters, heavy yet fast in water, easily capable of damaging mechs if the pilots were not careful. The harpoon itself was single use, and the mechs would need to reload from the boats.

Anastasia was quite amazed the Waterbugs had even managed to last this long, but then again, they used a lower technology base that even the Trivet was able to produce the spare parts required to maintain them. Furthermore, these outdated mechs would not last for five seconds on a modern battlefield, which was why they had survived so long - nobody would even think of deploying them for actual combat.

Staying true to herself. Anastasia’s fists clenched. Even if she spoke up as Avryl in Anastasia’s body, in the end, all she could do was to stand back, watch, and pray for her fiance’s safety. As an experienced mechwarrior, Finn should not have any difficulty, but she could not help but worry.

Her eyes glanced over to the two Waterbugs left in their berths, extra reserve machines prepared in case one of the allocated ones broke down. Her fingers twitched, and she could somehow feel the weight of the small microchip containing her neural patterns nestled in her pocket.

She stood in silence with Venice for long moments, staring out into the scenic forest. The flooded várzea forests were really very beautiful.

They finally decided to retreat to one of the tents where refreshments were served. They sat down on one of the tables, slowly sipping at their tea.

“By the way,” Venice said, “speaking of Sir Haynes, he was trying to help you just now, wasn’t he?”

Anastasia turned to Venice and nodded. “You thought so too?”

“Raymond seems to have developed quite an interest in you.”

“Of course, I’m Finn’s fiancee.” Anastasia felt puzzled. “Why, is something the matter?”

After a while, Venice shook her head slowly. “No, it’s nothing.”

Anastasia was about to inquire further when she saw a man run out from the communications tent to the emergency personnel waiting to be activated. By the markings on his jacket, he belonged to the Rason household. A sense of unease flowed through her, and she tightened her grip on her teacup.

She was just close enough to hear the man say clearly to one of the senior emergency personnel officers, “I serve Viscount Rason. This is an emergency, we’ve lost communications with his hunting group!”

---------------------------

That escalated quickly.😛

Made a slight change in the public holidays - Landing Day for Inman was changed to 23rd October from the original date of 30 Nov to better fit the fic’s timeline (yeah, a bit compressed in 3061, but that’s on me).

Várzea forests are essentially forests in the Amazon rainforest which could be flooded, up to depths of fifteen metres. For the purposes of this story, I made it even more extreme - twenty five metres depth in certain areas, allowing for some truly fearsome beasts to challenge the mech pilots.

Next, the mechs used are modified and equipped with primitive underwater maneuvering units - nothing as high tech as the actual UMUs that actually debuted in 3059 by the Goliath Scorpions, just banks of propellor fans attached to the back of the mechs so they can sort of move about underwater off the forest floor when it is flooded and add a bit of extra speed on the forest floor.

Stats for the Waterbug can be found here.

I changed up the usual trope of a hunting competition, but with mechs instead! Sheesh, I must have butchered virtually every cliched set piece event in the otome isekai genre for this fic (horse riding event, hunting event etc). Inspiration for using the flooded várzea forests came from the educational cartoons my kids watched, because I wanted something exotic and challenging.

It’s obvious what Anastasia’s going to do next!

[lowrolling]

Nice post and thanks for sharing. Why did Ana's staff trust her to go out there without any sort of preparation? And Spencer's time is getting shorter by a week for every day he interacts with either Ana or Finn.

[The Wobbly Guy]

Galicia Hills,
23rd October, 3061
0530 hours (0930 hrs on local 28 hr cycle)

The Rason man sounded panicked. “Baron Moore was engaging a hammerhorn, then a pack of them suddenly ambushed him. He requested for help and Viscount Rason moved to assist. That was the last transmission we got. We can’t raise their support boats either.”

“The hammerhorns are coordinating in packs now?” The officer paled. “We knew they were capable of communication with one another and sometimes used group tactics, but to adapt such new methods now…”

Finn’s man said insistently, “From last report, they are about thirty klicks away, about an hour and a half by boat. Deploy one of the emergency boats out to provide assistance…”

The senior officer retorted, “If the hammerhorns are using new tactics, I will not allow my men to take such risks going in without adequate protection! It’s simply too dangero…”

“Then take one of the reserve mechs out to accompany them!” Anastasia burst into their conversation. Her heart beat furiously like a drum. Finn was likely in danger!

Hammerhorns were the local analogues of orcas and narwhals, but larger and meaner, with a blunt solid round horn at their head which they used to inflict ramming attacks on prey, stunning them and leaving them vulnerable to follow up attacks with their jaws. With the ability to grow to a size of fifteen tons, they could damage even mechs with blunt impacts.

The senior officer shook his head, “We have nobody left who can operate the mechs. We’ll need to call back one of the nobles and hope somebody responds, then dispatch the emergency rescue boat with him.”

Anastasia seethed. It would take too long!

“I’ll pilot a Waterbug myself.” She started walking off towards the mechs.

“My lady!” The men ran after her. “It’s too dangerous!”

She stopped in her tracks and turned around, glaring at them. “Lives are at stake. If you expect me to sit here and wait, you’ll need to rethink your priorities!”

She saw the officer and Finn’s man exchange glances at each other. She could guess they were thinking - could this likely spoiled noblewoman even pilot a mech?

Furious at the delay and their scepticism, Anastasia turned back on her way to the mechs, and her determined approach startled the techs lounging around playing cards, eating, or just relaxing, thinking that the hardest part of the day, prepping the mechs, was over. After the event, they would need to repair any damage and maintain the mechs, of course, but they would have plenty of time to do it.

“My lady!” They scrambled to their feet in alarm when they saw her approach.

She pointed to the nearest Waterbug. “Is this mech ready for deployment?”

One of the techs gaped at her. “My lady, you cannot be serious. You’re not trained…”

She glowered at the tech who had spoken. “I know very well what I can or cannot do! We are wasting time and I will bear the responsibility for whatever happens! Just tell me and get the mech prepped, or get out of my way so I can do it myself!”

The techs looked at one another for a moment, shrugged collectively at the foibles of foolish aristocrats and then sprung into action. A group did a last minute check on the propellers, while another tech, a senior one from the looks of it, gestured for her to climb up the ladder to the cockpit, holding a spare neurohelmet in his hands.

Halfway up the ladder, Anastasia called out to the officer. “I’ll lead the way and escort your emergency team on the boat. We’ll move out in about five minutes.”

Even in a dress, she easily clambered up the ladder and into the cockpit, and the tech with the neurohelmet followed her up. He handed her the neurohelmet, and observed silently, as though looking out for something, while she quickly fitted it over her head and sat down. When she settled it and checked the fit over her head and her shoulders, then plugged the NCCI cable hooked on the seat into the neurohelmet, he finally nodded, as though convinced of something.

“My lady, we’ll need to tune the mech to your neural patterns…”

“No need, I’ll settle it myself. Just to confirm, this is the neural chip port, right?” She pointed to one of the myriad ports on the console in front of her. “And how can I get through the security system?”

“Err… yes, you are correct.” The tech gave her another long look, then said, “The security system’s an easy one. Just punch the numbers one to five on the keypad here,” he waved a hand over the console, “and the mech will be operational for you.”

“Got it.” Without even waiting for him, she flicked the switches and the buttons that would start up the Waterbug. It was an industrial cockpit design, but there were enough common features between them and that of battlemechs for her to figure it out easily. Besides, the training for their raids into the Draconis Combine had covered contingency plans, such as hijacking industrial mechs too.

The tech narrowed his eyes, taking in what she was doing. “Looks like you do know your stuff after all…” he paused, then finally said, “Good hunting, my lady.”

Unable to nod with the neurohelmet affixed on her head and shoulders, she did shift her eyes to him in acknowledgement. She pressed a button, and the cockpit canopy started to close while the tech slid back down the ladder.

Anastasia sped through the startup process and the security check, then took out the microchip from her pocket and plugged it into the port. She punched a few commands into the console, and experienced only the slightest vertigo as the systems downloaded her neural patterns, even while the engine came on and power started to percolate through the mech, the console indicators and screens glowing as they reported the activation of the various subsystems of the mech.

Their checks done, the techs scattered from the mech. One tech stood about thirty metres in front of her mech, waving large handheld signs to signal that the way was clear for her to proceed.

Then she heard the words she had been waiting for.

Engine online.

Sensors online.

Weapons online.

All systems nominal.

Her left hand shifted the throttle up, and the Waterbug started forward. Anastasia punched up the magnification to see the emergency personnel were almost all ready to move out in their flat utility boat.

Her neurohelmet crackled.

“My lady, this is Sergeant Baynes. I’m leading the emergency team. We also have the reloads for your harpoon gun. We’ll be in your care.”

“Affirmative. Stay about fifty metres with me, close enough for mutual support. You have anything for defence?”

“Some small depth charges and beamers, but they don’t work so well against hammerhorns or larger prey.”

“Understood, leave those to me, but let’s hope it doesn’t come to that.” Anastasia checked the status of her armaments, which essentially was just a claw and a harpoon cannon which could fire a single explosive harpoon before requiring a reload from the boat. She sighed. Just for the sake of bravado, these silly nobles want to fight these monsters in their native habitat with this antiquated weaponry?

She reconsidered her thoughts. Given that she was essentially joining them, she was not all that smart either, regardless of her motivations.

Her neurohelmet beeped, signalling an incoming transmission from the communications centre. “My lady, we’re uploading the nav points to your systems. Good luck!”

She toggled the display screen though its various modes, until she reached the biologicals detection screen. The coast seemed clear, no large creatures within a kilometre at least according to the sensors, which she knew was not entirely foolproof. She marched the mech to the waterline, and scanned the area visually one last time.

She saw Venice standing at the side, anxiety writ large on her face. Anastasia engaged the left hand, and focused to make it show a thumbs up. That brought a smile to her friend’s face.

Here goes. Anastasia started wading the mech into the water, part of her attention on maintaining the mech’s balance in water, another on the status of the propellers. She would use them to help move the Waterbug when fully submerged.

The cockpit descended to the water surface as the mech went deeper, then finally went under the surface. Despite her training, Anastasia could not help but take a deep breath as the cockpit submerged. If the environmental seals failed at any point, holding her breath might not make much of a difference for her survival, especially given the bulky neurohelmet.

Thankfully, the seals held. The water was also relatively clear, visibility was not too bad. The powerful searchlights mounted on the mech cut through the water, and she could manually control the direction of the beams using a specialised joystick. The water depth was relatively shallow, only about ten metres in the immediate area. She scanned the floor carefully, marking out areas with what looked like soft, muddy soil and made a mental note to avoid getting bogged down. She started up the torso propellers, providing a slight boost to the mech’s speed underwater, and gave her an option to just ‘swim’ over the muddy areas instead of walking around them.

She checked the compression view of the neurohelmet, making sure the emergency rescue boat was behind her and the harpoon cannon was pointed forward at the ready. For the time being, these people were going to be her responsibility, but she was keen to move as fast as she could to find Finn.

“All right, let’s go!”

 

“My lady, be careful!” Sergeant Baynes cautioned as she barreled through a narrow gap in the trees, her Waterbug moving faster than anybody they had ever seen before, with a natural grace that belied the bulk of the mech. “You’re going too fast! It’s dangerous to move so quickly underwater with such limited visibility and muddy floor!” They used an aquascope to track her mech visually, and it was shocking to see her mech move so fast.

When going over muddy ground, she simply pushed off the ground with the mech’s legs simultaneously like a high jumper, then using the propellers to further enhance the momentum gained from the jump, enabling her to gain a bit more speed and distance than usual. They had never seen anything like it.

Hell, even they had trouble trying to keep up in the supposedly faster boat, especially when she was able to thread through gaps in the tree clumps that they had to detour around. Still she ensured that there were no possible threats nearby, and they were always within fifty metres of her mech.

Inside the cockpit, Anastasia was completely focused on the task at hand, her hands gripping the control sticks, her feet dancing on the foot pedals as she maneuvered the mech underwater. Thankfully, time in the simulators had toughened her hands somewhat sufficiently that she would not bleed this time, unlike what happened on Altoona, especially now that she wore gloves to further protect her skin.

For the umpteenth time, she tried the communications channel, trying to contact Finn. Only static greeted her.

If I had known this would happen, I would have told him to be careful before he left. She regretted quietly. But I could not even meet his gaze… My chest hurts. It aches so much. I feel like my heart is about to explode…

Then she suddenly realised - Wait… Why am I getting this agitated over the fact that he could be hurt or injured? What I feel for him is… what is it anyway?

They should be in the area soon, judging from the nav points uploaded into her mech. Any time now…

Her sensors picked up nearby mechs, two of them. They must be Finn and Baron Moore. One Waterbug was not moving, while the other seemed to be fine. She felt a dropping sensation in her stomach. What if Finn was inside the immobile mech? What if he was hurt?

Anastasia switched the communications sending format to tight beam, and she called out again as soon as she cleared the last clump of trees which were in the way. “Viscount Rason, do you read me? What’s your status?”

“Ana?” The reply was immediate, and his visage appeared in a corner of the HUD on her neurohelmet. “Lady Kalinska, what are you doing here?”

His Waterbug floated into view. It looked a bit battered, with dents here and there. She sighed in relief. “Your communications got cut off, so a rescue team was dispatched to provide help.”

“Oh…” He sounded and looked chagrined. “Good timing too. We got hit hard by a pack of hammerhorns. They took out all of our comms, and even the longer ranged ones on the mechs. Sheer bad luck. Most of us are okay, but Baron Moore is in trouble.” His mech gestured with one arm to the other mech.

Anastasia gasped when she directed her searchlights over it. Not only was Baron Moore’s mech vastly more battered than Finn’s, it was missing its left arm, and trapped under several massive tree trunks. It struggled to move, but was pinned too well.

“You still haven’t answered my question,” said Finn. “What in Blake’s blood are you doing here? Tell me…” His voice suddenly turned icy as he asked over the open comms. “Exactly who was it that brought Lady Kalinska to such a dangerous place?”

She could imagine the consternation on the faces of Sergeant Baynes and his men, and hurriedly cut in, “Viscount Rason, I volunteered to accompany them in a Waterbug because the emergency rescue team was afraid to deploy in light of the new tactics used by the hammerhorns and needed a mech escort. There was simply nobody left. Please do not blame them, I acted on my own accord.”

Finn was silent for a while, then he said, “You volunteered to escort them? Because you were worried about me?”

“That’s right.”  Seriously? What kind of question is that? What other reason would I have to risk revealing my proficiency in mech piloting and coming here to this forsaken flooded land? Does this idiot really not realise that?

It did, however, clear up the clutter in her mind. The moment she heard about the danger to him, she had taken action without a second thought. She had always been less of a thinker and more of a doer. All this overanalysing… really does not suit me. My actions are driven by my earnest wishes and desires. And those wishes and desires… are all caught up in you.

Anastasia closed her eyes, thinking. The two of us drifting apart… hating you… being hated by you… simply because of our past? I do not want any of that. I do not want you to despise me any more.

I shall be free of our wretched history, the bloodsoaked battlefields of the Occupation Zone. She opened her eyes. Yes, to you, I wholly…

“Lady Kalinska?” Finn’s words cut off her line of thought. “Are you still with us?”

“Oh, sure, I’m listening.”

Finn sounded thoughtful. “I was angry at first that you had to come all this way just because you’re worried, but I now think you’re a godsend.”

“Huh?”

Finn explained quickly. Baron Moore had been chasing a hammerhorn in the area when he got ambushed by its packmates. Finn was close by so he could assist, but Baron Moore’s Waterbug was already badly damaged when he arrived, and Baron Moore had also suffered injuries himself, and needed medical assistance soon. Finn managed to fight the hammerhorns off, but the ensuing frenzy of attacks and subsequent regrouping capsized the boats, costing them their communications in the process. The boats were now uprighted, but the damage was done. Although there were no fatalities, some of the men were injured and required medical attention, which could not be provided while the hammerhorns lurked nearby.

Even worse, Baron Moore’s Waterbug was pushed into some trees that snapped, their heavy trunks toppling down and pinning his mech. Finn was wary that the pack of hammerhorns could still be circling around, waiting for an opportunity to attack.

Finn took a deep breath, and concluded. “These trunks are heavier than water, and are too heavy for my single Waterbug to lift, but together with your mech, we can probably do it. But at the same time, we might be vulnerable to the hammerhorns.”

Anastasia blinked. “Are they that smart?”

“Best not to underestimate them.”

She thought out loud, “The boats have depth charges and powerful searchlights. Maybe they can cover us and keep the hammerhorns away while we do the lifting.”

“Good plan. A bit risky for them though.” He then sighed. “Risky for you too. I’m sorry you had to place yourself in danger.”

“No, I’m glad I’m here, actually. It was getting boring back at the town.”

He chuckled gently in response.

They quickly communicated their plan to the boats, and the boats quickly assumed positions. Hopefully, the deployment of the depth charges would be sufficient, and even then Anastasia knew they had to act fast while the window of opportunity was open.

Finn’s Waterbug swivelled its searchlights over Baron Moore’s mech. “We’re going to get you out now, so just sit tight.”

“Thank you so much, Viscount Rason, Lady Kalinska.” The Baron simpered weakly. “I will be forever in your debt.”

“Okay, here goes!” Finn and Anastasia had both positioned their mechs to either side of the trunks.

Anastasia placed her left hand into the control glove, while her right hand remained on the control stick. The Waterbug only had a hand actuator on the left, while the right was equipped with a claw that was not meant for delicate operations, but still more than enough to grab hold of bulky objects.

She concentrated her thoughts on maintaining the mech’s balance, making sure it had a firm footing on the floor, while the mech’s hand and claw latched onto the topmost tree trunk. Opposite her, she could see Finn’s mech do the same.

“On the count of three!” Finn ordered, “One, two, three!”

Anastasia mirrored his movements, their Waterbugs acting in tandem to lift one trunk up, then used their combined strength to rip it away from the rest of the tree.

“One down, four more to go,” Finn declared grimly.

They repeated the process two more times, before receiving bad news from the boats.

Sergeant Baynes warned, “That pack of hammerhorns are on their way back! Approaching fast!”

Finn remained calm and collected. “Set off the depth charges as planned. Buy us time to free Baron Moore.”

“Roger that!”

Anastasia nodded mentally. Finn might be an idiot, but he was a born leader and a good mechwarrior. While another person might have made a different tactical decision of letting the hammerhorns come to them instead and fend them off before resuming the rescue, there was no guarantee the beasts would ignore the wounded mech already trapped by the trunks.

Meanwhile, she could already hear through the shielded cockpit armour the explosions of the depth charges, dull booms that reverberated through the neurohelmet.

About twenty seconds later, there was only one more trunk left to go. Already Baron Moore’s Waterbug was trying to dislodge itself, but still lacked sufficient leverage to break free.

“That’s it sir! We’re out of depth charges, and the beamers aren’t working! They’re coming on fast!”

Anastasia and Finn had already picked up the last trunk, allowing Baron Moore’s mech to finally wriggle free. Her display screen showed the pack of hammerhorns rapidly approaching them.

As one, their Waterbugs flung the last trunk in the direction of the hammerhorns with all the power their myomer muscles could deliver, forcing them to veer off on either side of the improvised projectile.

Anastasia was in full combat mode now, her eyes eagerly tracking the targets.

One, two, three… There were six hammerhorns in total, and they split up. Three headed for Finn, three for her. By the Founder, it was just like a Trial of Position!

Her tracking system was already bracketing the nearest hammerhorn, but without first hand knowledge of the harpoon’s projectile speed, she dared not waste her one harpoon on a high difficulty deflection shot. A head-on shot would be her best chance.

Taking the water resistance into account, she held her fire and waited for her chance, while the hammerhorns seemed to know she was targeting them, trying to distract her by feinting ramming runs before breaking off hard. It almost felt like those simulator runs facing fighters providing air-to-ground fire support.

An additional complication was that she realised these hammerhorns were smart. One of them veered off his track toward her, but she saw it dive towards Finn instead. “Finn, five o’clock high!”

“Got it!” His Waterbug sidestepped adroitly, letting it swim past. He had not fired his harpoon yet, but he did so as the hammerhorn passed him, the sharp tip of the harpoon punching through its rib cage in a solid hit, blood spraying out of the wound, red mist permeating the water. Almost immediately, he started reeling it in.

The sight of one of their pack hurt sent the other hammerhorns into a frenzy, and they finally seemed to lose patience, charging en masse at Finn and Anastasia.

Anastasia remained calm, trusting the Waterbug’s armour to do its job in case they did ram successfully. She angled the harpoon cannon and fired it at a charging hammerhorn. The hammerhorn tried to evade, but only ended up with the harpoon spearing it through its throat, killing it instantly. Almost immediately, the harpoon mechanism started reeling in the dead hammerhorn.

Another hammerhorn tried to blindside her, but a shouted, “Ana, four o’clock!” from Finn alerted her, and while the compressed view on the neurohelmet HUD made it challenging, long hours of practice firing at moving targets in the simulator allowed her to hone in on the charging hammerhorn.

Her right hand on the control stick, she timed the hammerhorn’s approach carefully.

Now! She swung the Waterbug’s right claw up savagely, just catching the hammerhorn before it could crash into her mech. The sort-of uppercut sent the hammerhorn flying up in the water, foamy spittle spraying out of its mouth through the churning waters.

Almost instinctively, she placed her mech back to back with Finn’s, covering each other. One more hammerhorn came barreling in, but she simply used the claw to grab the hammerhorn stuck on her harpoon and used it to block the ramming attack. The shock of the impact still managed to travel all the way into her cockpit, and reminded her of just how dangerous these creatures could be.

She snapped the left hand forward in a punch at the hammerhorn whose ramming attack was thwarted by her improvised meatshield, and it snapped back in pain at the blow.

They had enough. The surviving hammerhorns swam away, retreating into the murky depths of the flooded forests.
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When reading this chapter, once Ana gets into the water, play and loop ‘Underwater Run’ from Ghost Bear’s Legacy soundtrack.

In real life, orcas are able to learn new tactics from each other.

So I modelled the hammerhorns after that. I also need to update the geophysical information for the most advanced species on Inman to be mammals instead of birds, though I personally think it’s arguable which clade is more advanced, since mammals evolved earlier than birds, and birds can FLY.