New Albuquerque Air & Space Port, New Albuquerque, Nuncavoy
Nuncavoy Free Confederation, Rimward Periphery
May 10th, 2997
There had been no warning. No satellite network monitored the Nuncavoy system like the worlds of New Avalon or Taurus. No military patrolled the skies. So at 1:44 in the afternoon local time, Officer Grant Miller of the Confederation Civil Aviation Administration was shocked to alertness when his air traffic control radar alerted to the presence of a Leopard class DropShip on quick descent on a path straight to New Albuquerque. Stunned and shocked, Miller just stared stupidly at the ancient monitor on the dusty desk in the tiny tower facing what was at best, an airfield consisting of a single concrete runway and a heck of a lot of scrap that vaguely looked like buildings.
He quickly toggled the radio, “Unidentified Leopard.” He began, as calmly as he could, “You are outside of regulated approaches for New Albuquerque Airspace, please adjust heading by 246-mark-210 and reduce speed by one half, over.” His system activated the countdown clock, the red numbers quickly falling as the Leopard continued it’s approach. He repeated his message. After two minutes, Officer Miller accepted his worst fear - that this was a raid.
“Who would raid us?” he thought to himself, shocked by what was happening. The worst emergency he had ever dealt with was one of the local Planetlifters, converted for civilian use, having one of the drives fail and needing a much longer landing. He wasn’t even sure he knew what to do.
He regained his senses and picked up his phone, dialing rapidly to get the police headquarters. “NAPD, this is Gloria, what’s your problem?” a bored voice drolled over the line.
“This is Officer Miller, you have a Leopard class dropship on hot approach to the city. You need to get the alarm out.”
“What?” The voice on the other line sputtered, “No one raids up here! We ain’t got nothing!”
“Well they are! Get the alarm out now!” Miller shouted, before slamming down the phone over Gloria’s stuttering protests, then dialing again to get the militia alerted. He watched the computer clock quickly counting down till the unidentified Leopard touched down. “Come on, come on!” He muttered as the dull double tone of the phone indicated that it was ringing on the other end.
“Confederation Militia, this is San-ban-bing Liu.” The voice sounded chipper and happy.
“San-ban-bing, this is Officer Miller, CCAA, New Albuquerque Air Traffic Control. We have an unidentified Leopard DropShip on fast approach with touchdown in” he glanced quickly at his watch, “three minutes. They have ignored radio communications. We’re being raided by pirates.” He was surprised at how calm his own voice sounded.”
“Thank you Officer Miller, I’ll alert the duty officer. We will dispatch forces, we advise that you get all civilians into designated shelter spots.” He sounded bored.
Miller was again shocked for the second time this day, and shook his head, “San-ban-bing Liu, request ETA on support?”
He could almost hear the shrug in the young mans voice. “Sir, with all due respect, we’re 3,400 kilometers away from you. Even with a suborbital transition, we are hours away. We’ll do what we can.” The militia was headquartered and based out of the much warmer and nicer southern continent, out of Bola Bay, the only real city on Nuncavoy and the capital for the Confederation. The President, his advisors, and militia leadership all were there. New Albuquerque was the most prosperous of the northern towns, but the arid, dusty environment was not ideal for most people. This was the frontier of the frontier. Known only for the locally produced guanaco wool and other textiles produced by the Slater family.
The countdown hit zero and the pirates arrived. Miller switched his radio to the civil response channels and began helping to coordinate the response. He prayed that the Sin-ban-bing Liu was wrong. But he knew that he wasn’t.
Pleasant Horizons Apartments, Samantha City, Taurus
Taurian Concordat
May 15th, 2997
Riley Slater was awake, but she was carefully trying to not disturb her boyfriend Section Leader Edward Rodriquez. He was part of the Constabulary, and was exhausted after working back to back shifts to cover the current flu outbreak. Sneaking out of bed, she walked through their apartment to the refrigerator and looked at her options for a drink, settling on a native juice that was very tasty. She was generally in a very good mood, in just two weeks she’d be graduating with a Masters of Science in Agricultural Engineering from one of the most prominent Universities in the rimward Periphery. She had been here for six years - but she felt it was worth it. She and Edward had not spoken about what would happen after she graduated, and it was the only regret she currently had.
She had to go home. After graduating from her local education program, an ancient curriculum still based on Terran Hegemony standards reflecting the original colonists origins, she had worked directly for her father, tasked with becoming proficient in every part of their operations. She had chased down livestock on horseback, sheared sheep, avoided spitting llamas, provided veterinary care, repaired fences and outbuildings, worked the looms, and even loaded and crewed one of their Danais dropships, the NS Gila Vista - which they affectionately called the Gilly. After all of this, she had gone to University to learn how to best manage their extensive agricultural operations and learn what would be needed to not only take over Slater Textiles & Garments, but maybe have a chance to rebuild it to their former glory.
She twirled her glass in her hand, looking at the soft kitchen light reflecting off of the red liquid in her glass. She imagined the Gilly lifting off from New Albuquerque and joining a never ending stream of DropShips latching onto five JumpShips to go to markets ranging from Canopus to Taurus, and everything in between.
That wasn’t to say that the Route 66 wasn’t a fine ship, it was. The Invader class was well regarded throughout the Inner Sphere and Periphery, and the Route 66 even still had working hydroponic gardens. But at their height, her family had operated five JumpShips and a fleet of DropShips working from Nuncavoy all the way to Terra. Now, they had one aging JumpShip and three Danais DropShips, one of which was being used as a parts repository to keep the other two operational.
Her father had money, that’s why she could afford to be here. However, the costs of such a fleet would be astronomical, and while the Star League had supported trade - the same trade that had made the Slater’s wealthy - the civil war and Succession Wars had destroyed many of the worlds they had traded with, and taken much of their fleet as Successor Lords impounded them for military purposes.
Riley sighed, she wanted to turn her family’s fortunes around, but was it even possible?
There was a sharp knock at the door that startled her. Who would come knocking at 0300? She stood and walked over, looking at the security camera footage and seeing a ComStar Acolyte standing in the hallway. Startled, she opened the door, “Riley Slater?” Asked the Acolyte.
“Yes, that’s me.” She stood there in a shirt and shorts, her hair a mess.
The Acolyte nodded, then frowned, “Ma’am, it is with our deepest sympathies we regret to inform you that we have been notified that your father, Richard Slater, has passed after receiving injuries during a pirate raid.” Riley gasped in shock, as Edward emerged from the bedroom.
“Pirates? At New Albuquerque?” Edward asked, his brain waking up after being startled by the knock earlier. He was aware of Riley’s homeworld and also that pirates would normally not bother with such a resource-poor region. There was barely food to capture, and the population wouldn’t support slaving. His training was kicking in as if this was a Taurian world. He moved to support Riley, putting his arm around her.
The Acolyte nodded, “Again, you have our Order’s deepest sympathy. We bring these messages in person so that we might offer the Peace of Blake for you. I have brought a print out of the message that was sent for you to read.” He paused, “I also need to inform you that ComStar now recognizes you as the owner and chief executive officer of Slater’s Textiles. Accounts with ComStar have been transferred to your name, and we stand ready to help you in any way we can. Please don’t hesitate to come to us.” He reached out his robed arms and handed Riley an envelope. His eyes were sympathetic and as she took it he patted her gently on the arm.
Edward nodded, “Thank you.” he whispered. The Acolyte nodded back, and turned to leave.
Riley took the envelope and went to the table. She read it quickly. “Dear Reeree,” She paused, shaking her head at that stupid nickname. Her father’s housekeeper, Agatha, had called her that because when she was two, a few months after her mother had passed, Riley couldn’t pronounce her own name, instead saying reeree. It stuck, and became her nickname throughout school and while working for her father. “I am writing to deliver horrible news. Pirates raided our little town. It was sudden and unexpected, we’re still recovering and reeling from the attack. Your father had been in town to look at new tractors with Maurice.” Riley paused, and looked at Edward, “Maurice owns a small machinery in town, and builds and repairs farm equipment for most of the region.” Edward nodded, Riley took a deep breath and continued. “He joined the police to coordinate rescue and help get people to shelter, but they had BattleMechs. He was helping get a group of kids from the ice cream parlor and into the basement of the Church when he got caught on the street by some of their raiders. They dragged him away, and well, he didn’t survive. They blew up the bank. They fired into the crowds Reeree. They didn’t even take anything, just killed and destroyed, and left.” She paused, reading that in shock too. Pirate raids were brutal, but they were usually looking to capture people and equipment. Firing into crowds and blowing up a bank - usually a top spot to loot - was uncommon. Not looting? That was unheard of.
She continued, even as tears fell down her face, “I spoke with Aaron, he’s trying to keep everything running right now. We are going to send 66 out for you, but it will be a few weeks. We will wait for you.”
Riley put the paper down and felt the grief begin to take her. As sobs shook her body, Edward came around and held her. Her tears soaked his shirt but he just gently rocked her and stroked her hair.
Samantha Spaceport, Samantha City, Taurus
Taurian Concordat
June 26th, 2997
Riley stood in the lounge, leaning against the railing that kept people from pushing against the glass panes that allowed you to see the entire landing field full of DropShips. TDF ships would be much further away in their own section, but a number of civilian craft were present and the hustle and bustle was a good distraction. A hand touched her elbow and she turned to see Edward, she smiled up at him.
After a month of grief, counseling, graduating, and back and forth communication, Riley would have fallen flat on her face except for the constant rock at her back that was Edward. He was a continual source of support and help for her. When he told her that he had been granted six months leave from his commanding officer, and would join her on her way home, she was beyond happy. She had met many of his coworkers at the local Constabulary station, mostly for family events such as picnics and dances. They were all very kind, and even bought her a bouquet of flowers to express their sympathy and support. But this approval of Edward’s leave was amazing. She was so grateful.
Though it was odd to see him out of uniform, “There you are! What did you get?”
“Your favorite, fish and chips.” he held out a cardboard box and she sniffed it excitedly, “And myself a falafel wrap.”
She grabbed the box and turned to a nearby table in the lounge to enjoy her meal. “You can’t anything this good back home.” She forced out between bites. “Most of the native fish are edible, but disgusting. You either love lamb or you love the rockbite chicken, and you love it with hatch peppers wrapped in a tortilla.” She closed her eyes to savor the flaky deep fried fish. Edward grinned and shook his head.
“I’m glad you’re eating.” He smiled, as she hadn’t for a while. She nodded, “But I’m sticking with my falafel and veggies.” He chewed on his wrap, enjoying the food. In a few minutes a shuttle would be lifting that would take them out to the 66. It was going to be a hard journey and this was going to be their last really good meal. Riley planned on enjoying it and was thrilled when Edward volunteered to go get something as a treat.
“Thank you!” She said as she finished up. She looked down as the pager provided by the desk attendant started to buzz. “Perfect timing! That’s us!” Edward wolfed down the last few bites and both grabbed their carry ons and headed to the shuttle to board.
Riley sat near a port, and as the shuttle went through launch procedures and lifted off, she looked at what was now a closed chapter in her life. As the shuttle lifted off, she looked out at Samantha, and as it dwindled away she knew with it was the part of her life that was carefree and innocent. She was the last Slater, and inside of her a plan was forming. She needed to learn more, but something had happened. She wanted to dig.
She wanted to make sure whoever did this would regret it for whatever seconds of their life they had left.
TDF Headquarters, Basement Level 6, Samantha City, Taurus
Taurian Concordat
June 26th, 2997
Brigadier Alicia Rodriquez read the report from her field agent. The Slater girl was on her way home, and had been doing intensive research into what had happened to her father. A prominent trading family in the region, they had been negatively impacted by the alliance calling itself the Aurigan Coalition, and the Taurians saw this as an opportunity to expand their own influence to counteract the Magistracy in the region. Having a powerful and wealthy family work with the Taurians would be beneficial, and successful negotiations with the girl’s father had been progressing very well when the pirate raid occurred.
Alicia tapped her fingers against the oak of her desk. A pirate raid in which the pirates took nothing. A raid in which pirate infantry grabbed anyone fitting his description and dragged them off to shoot him. A pirate raid in which after killing their target, they blew up a few buildings and left. All relayed by their source on planet.
Alicia was furious. The Slater family had resources, resources that could move Taurian agents throughout the region, and business connections that would help them verify Aurigan accounts and financial data. All of that was at risk.
Thankfully, her backup plan was in place. Edward had filed his report before lift off, that he was on route and that she was incredibly thankful to his CO - the very supportive Subaltern Jeffries - and the Taurians in general. Now he just had to keep her alive.
Alicia considered what could have gone wrong to upset her plans. She had an excellent agent in place, but the girl was an anomaly - and years of planning and careful ground work could be at risk.