You have travelled to Port Royal to become a member of the Royal Dragoons, a new unit to be trained by Major Sir Richard Mainwaring, former AFFS Battalion Commander, dispossessed several years ago and now serving the Count of Royal as an instructor.  After arrival at Port Royal, you are ushered to a waiting area with other candidates from all the Houses Minor of Royal.  Most are cliquishly staying with their own households – or known allies.  Your name is called, and you are brought into a small, Spartan office.  A man is working busily at the desk, with a single datapad and a large pile of hardcopy folders.  He is wearing a Household uniform adorned with the symbol of the House of Mainwaring, but looks far too young to be the Major himself.  He looks up at you over his wire-rimmed glasses, and you notice the two green bars on either side of his uniform collar.

Orlando Hasek-Chan is a slim young man of average height. He is of Chinese/mixed ancestry, as are many of his kin, but he speaks with no accent beyond the standard Capellan March FedSuns English he was raised with. When he shows up for the interview, he is wearing his standard House militia uniform, immaculate gray and tan camouflage devoid of any insignia beyond his name and the house crest. He wears a vibro-dagger and a service pistol on his belt. Orlando has a pleasant smile, remaining quiet unless asked a question, eyes roaming around the room taking in details.

“I’m not sure what you’re used to, but from here on out when you’re asked to report to a superior, you enter the office and announce yourself from the position of attention.”  His voice is calm, and rather quiet.  As he stands, you see that the left sleeve of his uniform is empty, and pinned to the side of the jacket.  “My name is Captain Basil Harrington, I’m the Major’s adjutant.  It is my job to find out a bit more about you than exists in these… files… the Houses have sent, and determine whether or not you’re Royal Dragoon material.  Sir Richard doesn’t want to waste his time – or yours – if we can determine right now that you’re not going to be able to make the cut.  You will receive no special treatment due to social status or lack thereof.  Each recruit is a recruit first and everything else later.  You will learn what we want to teach you when we want to teach it without question or complaint.  You may have pride in your House Minor but here, you are a member of a single unit.  We will have no inter-House warfare carrying over to this training program.  Still here?  Good.  For the record, I need you to verify what my files here say.”

“The information should be up to date, sir.  I am MechWarrior Orlando Anselm Hasek-Chan, of House Hasek-Chan, in service to His Lordship Baron Raymond Hasek-Chan and His Excellency Count Maglan Von Kalman, sir. I was born 23 October 2893, in Montfort at the estate of my father Sir Walther Hasek-Chan. “

“Thank you.  Mercifully, it seems the dossier here was actually correct.  Now, since bare words on a white page rarely tell the true story of a person…  Tell me about yourself.  I’d be most interested in your educational background, prior martial training or experience, any travel offworld- anything interesting about yourself.”

“You’ll know me well soon enough, sir.  Since you ask, I’ll be happy to elaborate. After primary, I attended the “Warrior’s Hall” Academy on New Syrtis, and graduated in the middle of my class – paid for by our patrons, I went back to the Capellan March for my formal MechWarrior training. After that, I returned home to Royal and have served in the Baronial Defense Force. Due to our ongoing security issues in the upcountry, I have basic training in tactics and small arms, adequate to the task. Like all Hasek-Chan nobles, I did the required time leading a platoon of militia and attached armor. It was nothing really, but the experience was useful.

As a MechWarrior, I have deployed offworld on two occasions, and saw actual combat on one of those. Yes sir, I have seen action… I have an assisted kill against a Panther, actually. Not at all sir, I’m not bragging, sir. You asked me. My brother and I were attached to the New Ivaarson Chasseurs on Marlowe’s Rift, during a retaliation raid into the Combine. I was piloting my Wolverine, my brother was in his Griffin… I agree sir; the details are not really relevant. My point is that I have seen combat… it seems like useful information for Sir Richard.”

“I see, I see.  Now, your House Minor.  I know what your dossier says, but I want to know how you feel about it.  What is your position within the House, and what are the House’s strengths – and dare I ask weaknesses?  Do you have title in your own right; are you an heir, a retainer?”

“I am third in line to inherit my father’s estates, but my cousins are the ones inline of succession for the Barony. I carry the title of MechWarrior, as well as the battlemech to back it up. I represent the interests of House Hasek-Chan at the court of His Excellency Count Maglan Von Kalmen, in Port Royal. I serve as a MechWarrior as part of House Hasek-Chan’s usual rotation and contribution to the Von Kalmen retinue, but I have also been placed in court to look after our interests when Baron Raymond, my uncle, is unable to be at court. Yes sir, I am young for the job… I have a certain aptitude for interpersonal interactions that set me apart from my brothers and cousins. My father and uncle decided I was more useful at court than in a cockpit during peacetime. The ladies? Yes sir, I do adequately well… perhaps you should ask them yourself; a gentleman keeps discretion.

My House is wealthy and prosperous, but we do still face issues related to our comparative newness. We were invested on Royal less than two centuries ago, so some still regard us as interlopers or foreigners. There is some lingering discrimination related to our Chinese ancestry, and our connection to the Capellan March. Sadly, the same people who regard us as interlopers never seem to remember our connection to one of the oldest families in the Federated Suns. Yes sir, it is frustrating – I won’t allow it to interfere, though. “

“And your House…  Do you have any particular allies or enemies amongst the other Houses Minor?  I need to know if there will be problems, so I can make sure to separate the real trouble into the various training companies we will be forming.  Also – do you have any particular opinions of the Great Houses?  I imagine being on the Draconis Combine border you’d have a few opinions about House Kurita at least.”

“House Hasek-Chan works hard to maintain beneficial trade relations with all of the Houses of Royal, including House Davion. We of course have lingering security issues related to House Liraste, due to the circumstances of our investment – but we were not the ones that displaced them, we simply occupied a domainal vacancy at the behest of the Von Kalmans. I will simply avoid the Lirastans, should they arrive. You’ll have no trouble between me and the other trainees – I’ve not been formally introduced to anyone yet, though we actually had to divert when the Dencourts arrived in that thundering deathtrap they seem so proud of.  I’ve heard tales about the Eversole delegation, of course. Yes sir, the same ones you’ve doubtless heard. Good genes in that family. No sir, it is inappropriate, sir. Yes sir. “

“I see.  Now, if I were to ask you what the two greatest strengths were you were bringing to the Royal Dragoons as a trainee, what would they be?”

“I believe I bring two main beneficial traits to the training group. First, I have experience; formal training, piloting a battlemech while being shot at for real, and leading troops in the field. No, not a great deal of experience under my belt, sir… but the difference between `a little’ and `none’ is a vast one. Second, I have a talent; some would call it a gift, for social engineering – personal interactions. I can be of great benefit to you in smoothing things over, making things happen with a minimum of friction. If you can use such skills, then I am your man, sir. “

“Quite.  Now, on the opposite side of the coin.  If I asked you what your two most serious flaws were, what would you say?  Do you have any… quirks… we should be aware of?”

“Despite my experiences, I am not the most martial man among my clan – that would be my brother Lorenzo. I’m not bloodthirsty, and I venture that I probably serve my House better at court than in the field. My military skills are adequate to the task, but I do not consider myself a standout warrior. I’m a fair pilot and gunner, sir. But outside of the cockpit, words are my weapons.

I don’t have any particular quirks… peccadilloes, odd fetishes, or impulse control issues. No sir, nothing like that, I’m level and even.

I, like all of the warriors of House Hasek-Chan, have certain obligations to my House and to our patrons at the Davion court… no sir, I’m not privy to decisions at that level. I know only this; my ancestors incurred a debt to the Haseks of New Syrtis, and when they call we must answer. I’m sorry sir, I’m not at liberty to discuss that with you at this time.“

“Now, that said – what are your personal goals.  Short term, long term…  Why do you want to be a part of Sir Richard’s training program?”

“My personal goal is to become a better MechWarrior, and to make useful connections and friendships among the warriors of my cohort. The MechWarriors of this generation will be the house leaders of tomorrow, and it is to the benefit of all that we establish solid friendships, is it not? Well, since you ask, I don’t see the point in such distinctions… short term, long term; they are connected or even identical if you take the long view of things. Yes sir… I am twenty-one, and I take the long view. I am used to being underestimated that way…. Sir.”

“Excellent.  Now, a little more personal.  What are your interests, hobbies… general likes?”

“Well, I have a personal interest in political science; it’s fundamental to what I do. I do a bit of studying and reading when I get the chance. I dabble in art… painting, sir. I’m not very good. Actually, my tech has a gift for it – he’s teaching me in our free time. I find it relaxing. No sir… those things are both secondary pursuits. I truly enjoy people. They fascinate me. Every person has a story, and something to teach. You have but to listen. Very often, they will tell you all you need to know without even being aware of it.”

“And the opposite.  What are the things you dislike actively?”

“I dislike wastefulness, cruelty, stupidity. I haven’t got much use for braggarts, even ones I am related to. People who don’t know their place in the order of things… well, I haven’t got much use for them either, but some people will never fit into the places that society has for them. There is a role for those people too, I suppose. I dislike House Liraste and their constant interference with the well-being of my house. There are other things I dislike, to be sure, but they are trivial. Those would be the significant ones, sir. “

“Thank you for the information.  Return to the other applicants.  If you hear your name called to board the transport, do so quickly and in an orderly manner.  Dismissed.”

“Thank you for your time, sir. Good day to you, sir.”

“Diablo Leader, this is Diablo Four, I have ojos on clear approach to target. One big, gordo of a DropShip sitting dumb, fat and happy. Permission to engage?” Diablo Four had a heavy underwing load of bombs and rocket pods, and though he was certain that their attack run had gone unreported thus far, was too smart an aviator to wish to be anywhere near the Drop Port once the attack was truly underway. With any luck at all, he would trigger his ordance and run like hell for the Montana Castille border.

“Si, Diablo four. All Diablitos, engage at will, then follow the original bug-out order.” A chorus of acknowledgements came over the radio. Diablo Leader felt exhilarated by the high-speed, low-altitude attack run. He could almost feel treetops and jungle canopy brushing the underside of his Boeing Jump Bomber as it screamed across the Bengaluran countryside.

*****
“Wow. Really?” Pfc. Alex King moaned. The Air Search Radar antenna connected to the Garret D2j targeting system on his Rifleman ground to a halt again. The screen displayed “SENSOR ERROR. CLEAR ROTATION PATH.” On the ground, Corporal Elwood Pierce shook his head and walked over to pass the information on to the unit’s top repair technician. Chief Technical Sergeant Tex Shanahan was listening to Corporal Rio Marquez listing off a short number of final repairs his lance required before the next action when Pierce arrived.

“Chief, we need you to look at King’s ADA antenna again.” Pierce informed the tech once he and Marquez reached a lull in conversation. Shanahan cocked his head, and heard King’s voice faintly audible coming from Pierce’s headphone.

“Know what the difference is ‘twixt that radar mast and Alex King? When the radar mast seizes, *it* stops whining. Tell him I’ll get on it here in a minute.”

Alex King was bored. Waiting for Tex to get around to checking his radar mast wasn’t the most exciting task he’d done all day. He sat up and watched as a massive Marauder II lumbered by, conned by MechWarrior Kuno Shoji, just off the sick list. King thought a moment, and then opened a comm channel to the Marauder II.

“This does not seem wise…” Kuno stated flatly as he aligned the blunt end of his Marauder’s right arm with the end of the radar mast.

“Dude, it’ll be fine. It just needs to be loosened up. Now… push…”

Kuno edged the arm forward, and with a moan and a screech of grinding metal, the radar mast jerked forward – and began to smoothly rotate. Kuno moved his ‘Mech’s arm quickly out of the path of rotation and looked on in surprise as the radar mast spun up to operation. Shanahan and the NCOs, still engaged in conversation about repair priorities, all looked up at the noise, and the marveled at the suddenly operational radar. “I’ll be damned…” Tex drawled.

King was pleased with his handiwork. The error message cleared from his radar display, and almost immediately the system began to lock onto targets to the southeast. That was odd, nothing was out there but ocean or jungle. He slammed his hand into the Garret’s computer housing. Still had the signals. He frowned and toggled his headset over to Bengaluran air defense. “Hey, AD, you guys have any air contacts bearing two-one-five, like, cherubs one?” There was a moment of silence on the opposite end.

“Negative, Easy White One. We have no airborne contacts at this time.”

“Damnit. Thank you, Bengalura ADA. Easy White One out.” King began to fiddle with the radar settings. The contacts were clean, holding a steady course, and moving at a steady speed. They looked far too regular to be sensor ghosts. Something didn’t add up. “Rorke’s Drift, this is King. You guys done with that hull repair yet?”

Aboard the DropShip Rorke’s Drift, Leftenant Hopper tabbed the microphone switch. “That’s a negative, Alex. We’ve still got men aloft. What’s up?”

“I’ve got some radar ghosties, and I wanted to confirm with you guys that there’s nothing out there.”

“Well, we can’t radiate our array until we get the repair crew off the radome. Have you checked with Bengaluran air defense?” Hopper moved over to the sensors station, where Bengaluran air defense’s radar signals were being repeated.

“Roger that. Dudes got nothin’.” The hair on King’s neck was starting to stand up. The Rifleman’s radar was temperamental, but either it worked or it didn’t. It had never had a problem with ghost returns before. “Hey, Drift, you guys mind if I go active for a quick acquisition test?”

“I don’t see why not. Consider yourself approved.” Hopper answered, then turned to the alert status board. His hand hovered over the panel, wondering if the uneasy sound in King’s normally passive and unconcerned voice meant anything. He made his decision, and slammed the heel of his hand down on the alert panel.

*****
“Action Stations! Actions Stations! Set Condition One Throughout the Ship!” boomed out over all of Rorke’s Drift’s 1MC speakers.

“The hell?” First Sergeant Sonya Davenport barked as she screwed her eyes shut against the suddenly bright lights of the bunkroom. She heard a *thump* as Jaqueline DuVivier sat straight up – and into the overhead. The downside of the top bunk, she supposed.

“Drill?” DuVivier asked as she pulled on trousers and looked for her boots.

“Nobody told me.” Davenport groused as she peeled off her previous day’s piloting shirt. The shower would have to wait. She found a clean top and began to pull it on when she became aware of one of the enlisted ratings of the Rorke’s Drift stopped dead in his tracks. “Boy, either you’re trying to real my dogtags really hard or you’re going to get a boot in your ass. Either way you need to move your shit, son, there’s an alert sounding.” The kid shook himself out of his stupor and rambled something like an apology mixed with acknowledgement and headed out the door. “Listen to yourself, Sonya” She thought. “You’re starting to sound like every crusty sergeant that ever graced a war movie. Don’t get lost in the role…”
*****
“What have we, Mister Kano?” Major Ian Mainwaring asked as he dropped off the ladder to the CiC’s deck.

“Unknown, Major. The alert just came down from the bridge, Leftenant Hopper says he thinks something’s coming in.” Leftenant Razan Kano answered.

“Mister Breckenbauer, Mister Mackenzie, get below and get your MechWarriors in their ‘pits. Let’s hope it’s a sensor glitch. Mister Briggs, you, Kano and I are going to figure out what the hell we’ve got going on here.
*****

King saw them first, screaming in over the canopy. “Holy shit!” was all he managed to say as he tightened his fingers on the triggers of the heavy autocannon mounted in his Rifleman’s arms. Confused technicians, still not sure what to make of the DropShip going on alert when everything else seemed calm, scurried away from the Rifleman as milk bottle-sized shell casings began to pour from the ejection ports. In a fireball, Diablo Four exploded into a shower of aluminum and unexpended ordnance.

*****
Diablo Leader saw one of his men, the over-eager one, go down in flames. Ground fire. So much for total surprise. “All Diablo flight, we have been discovered. Fire all ordnance then head for home. Go!”

He pulled the nose of his bomber up past the hanging smoke of Driablo Four, and triggered the general release on his entire bomb load. The weapons, freed of their bonds, fell ground ward still propelled by the forward motion of the aircraft. The first bomb actually slammed into Rorke’s Drift’s number four landing gear before it exploded. The rest slammed into the massive ship and detonated across its hull. The other four planes of Diablo Flight followed suit, concentrating their fire on the largest target – the DropShip itself.

*****
“Specialist, are you all right?”

Smith blinked twice, and tried to open his eyes, only to be assaulted by a stinging smoke, and the smell of ozone and blood. “S-sir?” Was all he could manage. He tried to sit up, and felt a fiery knife of pain in his right leg. He heard the sounds of scraping metal, and cursing. He began to close his eyes again.

“Specialist Smith, focus. You have been injured, the doctor is on her way. You must not allow yourself to lose consciousness again. Do you understand me?”

Somehow Leftenant Kano’s calm, measured voice was a comfort for a change. “Yes, sir. Stay with you, sir.” Smith tried again to sit, and made it into an upright position this time, the pain more dull than it had been a moment ago, but throbbing and persistent. “Are you OK, sir?”

“A few bruises, Specialist, nothing to be concerned about. Can you-“ Kano was answering when Myron Briggs’ strong voice interrupted him.

“Kano, can you get over here? Oh, hell-“ Briggs was trying to move a large console that had come loose from its moorings during the attack. An arm was visible beneath the console. He coughed as he took too deep a breath in the smoky remains of the Rorke’s Drift’s Combat Information Center, trying to release the trapped crewman. Razan Kano crossed the small space in three deft steps, avoiding some wreckage and a dazed Rorke’s Drift communications technician. Briggs was trying to lever the console away from the bulkhead it had fallen against. Kano shouldered in next to him and helped heave, only then becoming aware of the pain in his own shoulder. A moment later the injured Smith had pulled himself up by a ladder and limped over, pushing with his good leg and succeeding in finally moving the console. It came free of the wall and crashed to the floor among other wreckage.

Smith sighed in relief- then his breath caught. “Oh, God… The Major…”

*****

For the thousandth time, Claudia Spencer wished Roger Patel was there. As she continued to move as steadily as she could across the make-shift triage center in the shadow of the stricken DropShip, she knew she was about ten surgeons too few for the job at hand. Some of the combat medics from the infantry unit were pitching in, as was the Rorke’s Drift’s Pharmacist’s Mate- despite a broken ankle. She checked the portable vitals scanner again, and resumed chest compressions on Alfred Opfel. The kindly old cook had helped evacuate the ‘Mech bay, and carried three wounded out himself one at a time- but the smoke and the heat had been too much for him. Where the hell was that damn field medic with the AED? She heard footsteps jogging up behind her, and turned to find the new guy – what was his name? Doyle. That was it- carrying a trauma kit and AED.

“Need some help, Doc?” Doyle dropped the equipment and took over the chest compressions while Spencer checked the defibrillator. Any help was good help…

*****

As the last of the jump bombers plummeted into the jungle, Leftenant Vicious Marion was musing about the rarity of viable salvage in air-to-air operations. He almost felt guilty about downing the aircraft with his Phoenix Hawk LAM, as they had absolutely no air-to-air armaments. The guilt was assuaged upon hearing the chatter on the Royal Dragoon Guards tactical net. Casualties were sounding pretty bad, and they still didn’t know how badly Rorke’s Drift had been hurt. He turned back toward Bengalura City and his comrades when he got a faint signal on a channel he hadn’t expected.

“Watchdog to any station, please acknowledge.” The voice was familiar, a Bengaluran native speaking English.

“Watchdog, this is your friendly neighborhood Dragoon in the sky, go ahead.” Marion answered.

“Situation Gold at Point Able, I say again situation is Gold at Point Able. Do you read?”

Marion swallowed. Situation Gold. Pachugar was being overrun, and their defenders were going to try to slow them down. It was suicide.

“I read you, Watchdog. Keep your heads down, I’m gonna give you a hand.” Marion’s hand leaned over on the control stick and the Phoenix Hawk LAM peeled into a tight turn, streaking for Pachugar. In moments, he was barreling down on what looked to be a company of ‘Mechs and some armor support. The defenders had mined the roads, it appeared, and blown out some of the raised causeways along the rice paddies. Good – it was funneling the attackers through town and onto the main road. That gave Marion a nice, tight group to say hello to. Payback was indeed a bitch.

*****

“For the last time, Commandante Santos, my men and I have not been citizens long enough to learn Spanish well. Please speak English or Capellan.” The statement was not completely true, Captain Hsu thought, but then, the paint wasn’t dry on the Montana Castillian livery on their ‘Mechs, either. Legally, he and his company had resigned their service with the CCAF and immigrated to Montana Castille, and the ‘Mechs in which they were riding were demilitarized war surplus. It was just that someone forgotten to demilitarize them. And forgotten that the Capellan Confederation never had enough ‘Mechs to consider any of them ‘surplus’. But legality was reality, and according to ComStar’s records, he was now a citizen of Montana Castille in the service of His Excellency whilst piloting a Castillian Cataphract purchased used from the Capellan government- and that was all that mattered to the operation if he was captured. But Captain Hsu had no intention of being captured. There wasn’t a MechWarrior in his company that wasn’t a seasoned veteran of the bitter fighting in the Fourth War. Their machines were pristine, and equipped with the latest – ahem – war surplus the Capellans had. A Company of ‘Mechs was a fair price for a planet potentially still rich in Germanium, no?

The operation was taking far too long. Commandante Santos was obsessed with bringing along his ridiculously heavy armor platoon, and the need for solid, clear roads was slowing them down. Even flat-out on the Bengaluran highway system they couldn’t do much better than 50kph, and with Operation Suckerpunch properly executed, every hour was an hour the mercenaries in this country had to recover from the attack and prepare their defense. Hsu couldn’t believe his unit’s talents were being wasted this way – and under the command of a Tanker officer, as well! Were it his to command, his company would be deploying for a series of guerilla raids, not a frontal assault. His Excellency, however, wanted the hammer to fall on the country of Bengalura. He wanted Hsu’s Castillian Flag-flying Cataphract to kick in the door to the palace and personally execute the Maharajah, demonstrating for all to see that Montana Castille could deal with even their strongest adversary with very little trouble.

Direct violence could work, too, he supposed. He’d seen the intelligence briefings on these Royal Dragoon Guards. He knew he faced a single company, probably Company “E”, and that they were uncommonly heavy for a mercenary unit. Maybe he would be thankful of Santo’s damned tanks after all. The firepower would be useful, and it gave these Dragoons more targets to shoot at. He was pulled out of his musings by Commandante Santos’ voice, straining to speak clearly in English. “Capitan Hsu.” He began. Hsu rolled his eyes at the ‘heh-shoe’ pronounciation of his name. “I would thank you to remember that I am in command of this expedition, and you and your men are now members of the Castillian Guard. You had best get used to the Spanish.” Hsu winced. ‘eh-spanish’ was, in fact, the national language of his new country of allegiance, but the middle of a combat operation was not the time to play patriot games. He was about to say so when a cry of alarm sounded over the tactical net. Santos’ painfully green scout tank crew were calling out a very unprofessional contact report complete with some of the only words Hsu did know in Spanish.

Hsu heard an alarm sound in his cockpit as he felt the aftereffects of a heavy laser slicing his Cataphract open from hip to shoulder, the beam carried on behind him, striking a Raven and a Galleon tank. He heard the quad guns of the unit’s only Partisan tank open up, too late.

*****

Marion smiled as the Galleon exploded. He must have hit a fuel tank. Nice. He started as white-hot tracers began to fill the air near his aircraft. He kicked the throttle to full military power and rolled away from the angrily replying anti-air tank. “Too little, too late, asshole…” Maybe that would help take some heat off of the few brave or foolhardy souls down in Pachugar.

*****

Hsu smiled up at the sky. The enemy pilot had taken the less foolhardy path and decided against another pass. Just as well. He would use this attack as argument fodder to convince Commandate Santos to get his ass in gear. The attack must go off quickly, as quickly as they could make the run to Bengalura City. But it wouldn’t go off exactly as Santos had planned. Hsu had his own orders, and they came from a lot higher up than His Excellency the Baron of Montana Castille.

*****

“…several ‘Mechs were hit, none critically, but it did undo a few days of armor patches and repair. Tex lost three of his technicians, and the Drift lost three crew, with six injured. Opa had a cardiac event, but Doctor Spencer pulled him through… we hope. Kano’s got a cracked shoulder. The Major still hasn’t regained consciousness.” Marcas Mackenzie reported in his customary burr.

“Damn. OK, Mack, well, we’ve got some incoming down here, too, so that leaves me unable to just jaunt up there and assume battalion command. You’ve got HQ all ‘round you, what’s left of it, so I’m hereby putting you in charge of the defense of Bengalura City. You’re it until the Major wakes up, or until I can untangle Fox and get our asses up there. Can you handle it?” Carmine Atticus looked almost paternal. He was older than the other officers in the RDG, and concerned at the attack, and how quickly the enemy seemed to be following up their initial action. As if they expected the world-changing news of the previous day, and were ready for it.

“Count on it, sir. Easy Red – all of Easy – will be ready to go.” Mackenzie tossed a hurried salute at the camera, which Atticus returned.

“Good luck, Mack. Fortune favors the bold.” The image of Atticus winked out, leaving Mackenzie staring into a dark screen, in a dimly lit Combat Information Center, that still smelled of smoke and fried electronics.

“Well, sir. You seem to be in charge. Any bright ideas?” The acidic voice came from behind.

“Aye, First Sergeant. General alarm, all stations. Have the Drift’s crew form a burial detail, everyone else – and I mean everyone – is to prepare for defense.”

Sonya Davenport looked Leftenant Mackenzie in the eyes, daring him to blink. The Major was down. Kano was down. They’d have to trust this new Leftenant to get them through. Was he up to it? She hoped so…

============================================

Ave, Centurion Atticus

I had a chance to evaluate the structure of Fox Company, and have some recommendations – you may use or discard these at your pleasure. The current lance structure is less than optimal, considering the staffing/training levels in Fox Company, and you face some difficult challenges within your unit. I hope I can be of some small assistance to you here. I offer a less conventional but more flexible approach of smaller teams. These pair inexperienced mechwarriors with more experienced team leaders to more rapidly train them up to the standards I know you expect.

1) I suggest the creation of a “Reserve Pool Lance”, a TOE slot for the Jenner, Vulcan, Commando, and two Locusts that all lack assigned pilots. New pilots can be assigned to mechs in this pool and then posted to the existing lances. As is, you have a very hollow structure, with a single relatively inexperienced pilot in your pursuit lance. While this fills out an org chart nicely, it serves no useful purpose in the field.

2) As soon as Brevet Leftenant Siofra McAllen is adequately trained, I strongly recommend that she be moved to a mech more useful than the Stinger she currently pilots. Instead, she might benefit from piloting the PXH-1D Phoenix Hawk that is currently assigned to Brevet Sergeant Delacort. It has a roughly similar operating system to the Stinger (a short learning curve at the very least). It also has good commo gear that is useful for a lance leader, if she is to serve in that position.

3) Brevet Sergeant Delacort can be reassigned to the JR7-D Jenner that is currently unpiloted in Pursuit Lance, to be paired with Recruit Mori, in an identical mech. Make him responsible for her training in battlefield survival, and you might get the best performance from both of them. Watch them closely though, as both have somewhat checkered backgrounds. There might well be some HR issues to deal with in such a pairing.

4) Recruit Thomas Jones should be reassigned to the VL-5T Vulcan, a larger and more effective mech than the currently assigned COM-2D Commando, and then assigned to Fire Lance. SGT Sapp and Private Tor will be able to train him properly, since his fundamentals already appear to be solid.

The following provisional TOE should be considered a suggestion only, as a place to start. It is essentially built around my previous suggestions, and you may differ in the particulars. McAllen is paired with you, so she can more effectively learn the command ropes.

Command Lance
* Captain Carmine Atticus (Cory Matt) – ARC-2R Archer
* Brevet Leftenant Siofra McAllen (Jessica Hench) -  PXH-1D Phoenix Hawk

Fire Lance
* Sergeant Luso Sapp (Matt Hill) – TDR-5SS Thunderbolt
* Private Galen Tor (Mark West) – WHM-6D Warhammer
* Recruit Thomas Jones (Vincent Jones) – VL-5T Vulcan

Pursuit Lance
* Brevet Sergeant Carbon Elroy Delacort (Andrew Benton) – JR7-D Jenner
* Recruit Reizu Mori (Christina Clevenger)  -  JR-7 Jenner

Reserve Pool Lance
* Lance Commander: Unassigned COM-2D Commando
* Lance Sergeant: Unassigned COM-1D Commando
* Mechwarrior: Unassigned LCT-1E Locust
* Mechwarrior: Unassigned LCT-1V Locust
* Mechwarrior: Unassigned STG-3G Stinger

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Di Te Incolumem Custodiant,
MYRON BRIGGS
2nd Leftenant
Adjutant
Battalion Headquarters

BRECKENBAUER: Not a problem, Chief.

TEX: Fer the record, sir, what’s your name and where do you hail from?

BRECKENBAUER: Oberleutnant Friedrich Breckenbauer, from the planet Odessa in the District of Donegal, Lyran Commonwealth.

TEX: What was life like growin’ up there?

BRECKENBAUER: Wasn’t as bad as most would think. My family was well-off. I played quite a bit of football, swam in the off-season.

TEX: Where did you pick up your education?

BRECKENBAUER: I attended basic training at the Odessa Military Forces Gymnasium. After graduation, my marks were high enough to earn an offer to attend the Naglering Military Academy, as you know the most prestigious academy in the Inner Sphere.
TEX: Uh-huh. And what about family, you got any, sir?

BRECKENBAUER: My mother – my father passed away some years ago – two sisters, one roughly of age. The other we don’t speak of too often.

TEX: How do you feel about the Lyran Commonwealth?

BRECKENBAUER: Is there any other way to feel but extremely proud?

TEX: And how ’bout the other Houses?

BRECKENBAUER: Well, as many other Lyrans feel, I have a strong distaste for the Free Worlds League and the Kuritans. The Davions are nice enough, but I see no need for us to succumb to their inferior form of government.

TEX: Careful, sir, them’s fightin’ words around here.

BRECKENBAUER: I can hold my own.

TEX: I’ll just bet. What was yer chosen trade, and how did you become a mercenary?

BRECKENBAUER: After graduating at the top of my class at the Naglering, and completing officer candidates training- unlike many Lyran officers I do empathize with my soldiers and look out for their welfare – in OCS I tried to pay as much attention as I could to the true tactics and battlefield skills- rather than how to kiss ass. After graduation I continued on with my studies as a MechWarrior trying to become the best at my chosen field – which I think I’ve accomplished rather well. In my first tour of duty with the LCAF, we came across a small LosTech cache, which explains how I own my ‘Mech. My next tour wasn’t as eventful as I’d like to have hoped, raids across the Kuritan border, that sort of thing. After my two tours I realized that perhaps the LCAF didn’t have room for advancement for someone with more tactical than political aptitude. I decided to cash out my benefits and leave the LCAF to try my luck on Galatea. I did some side jobs, basic footwork and incognito operations.

TEX: So what lead ya to the RDG?

BRECKENBAUER: I’d just gotten off of a contract, walked into a local bar, saw a couple of interesting characters and had a drink with them. We talked about football for a while and they told me they were in an outfit called the Royal Dragoon Guards and that I should look into it. I went to the hiring hall the next day and submitted my resume. Here I am.

TEX: What is your current assignment in the Dragoons?

BRECKENBAUER: Currently I command Easy Green – a Battle Lance. It is my job to get out there and throw punches.

TEX: Any of yer fella Dragoons made an impression on ya? Stick out in yer mind?

BRECKENBAUER: The cocky one who’s never in uniform. Can’t quite remember his name. There’s a cute looking doctor, but I think she’s seeing someone. She seems to be knowledgeable in her field. There are a few Kuritans in the unit, and I cannot help but be uneasy about that…

TEX: Yup. That there are, but they’ve been good people so far. What about you, what do think are your strongest assets?

BRECKENBAUER: Do you mind if I smoke?

TEX: The lamp’s lit, sir.

BRECKENBAUER: Probably my tactical capabilities on the field. And, ah, my physical prowess.

TEX: Do you feel you have any weak points, sir?

BRECKENBAUER: Only this… <>

TEX: Fair enough. Do you have any strong political or religious beliefs?

BRECKENBAUER: I like the Davions and all, but I just don’t think the House of Steiner should be affiliating itself so readily with the Federated Suns. The Lyran Commonwealth would be better off on her own. No real religious beliefs save that there is a God somewhere, and he watches over me on the battlefield.

TEX: So, what are yer goals, sir? Personal, professional?

BRECKENBAUER: My personal goals I like to keep personal. My professional goal is to make a name for myself in this large galaxy of ours.

TEX: Is that why you’re currently serving as a Merc?

BRECKENBAUER: What better way to fame and fortune?

TEX: How d’you think your fella Dragoons would describe your personality?

BRECKENBAUER: Well, having been here for only a few months, I would say they don’t know much about me. I’m not a very outgoing person, I’m here to do my job to the best of my ability. I would, however, be more than glad to join my fellows for a drink, or to watch some football.

TEX: Do ya have any special qualities aside from yer job skills that yer particularly proud of?

BRECKENBAUER: I would have to say I play a mean game of billiards.

TEX: Is there anything you just cannot do, no matter what?

BRECKENBAUER: Yes, I cannot blow bubbles in bubblegum.

TEX: …

TEX: Kay. What things do you hate, just cannot stand?

BRECKENBAUER: Lying, backstabbing Kuritans. Greedy and selfish Mariks. Cocky assholes.

TEX: A’ight. Whaddya enjoy, or love?

BRECKENBAUER: Obviously, football. I once heard that the best things in life are to crush your enemies, see them driven before you, and to hear the lamentations of the women.

TEX: Anything else you want yer fella Dragoons to know about you?

BRECKENBAUER: My door’s always open.

TEX: Thanks, Leftenant. We’ll be seein’ you around Easy.

My name is Myron Briggs, and I was born on Maxwell, in the Free Worlds League. I am 32 years old.

2.      What was life like growing up for you?

I had a good life, frankly. My father is well connected politically, having served on the Free World Parliament a couple of terms as Maxwell’s representative. We traveled around a lot, mostly back and forth between Maxwell and Atreus. I got to see a lot of the Free Worlds League that way… it’s a great way to broaden your horizons, travel. I recommend it for anyone.

3.      How and where did you receive your education?

I did most of my post-primary education on Atreus, at the best schools the League has to offer. Unfortunately, my talents were not technical or financial, so I had to work to find my niche. I seem to have a talent for administration, and that’s always in demand. There was of course additional training offered in the military, so I followed up with that.

4.      Do you have any family or dependents currently?

My parents are both alive and well, back on Maxwell. My father retired a few years back, shortly after the unpleasantness surrounding the end of my own career with Marik. Mother still works in the Maxwell government, and probably will for a while. I have some brothers and sisters as well… I’ll leave it at that.

5.      How do you feel about the Great House you were born under?  The other Houses?

Honestly? <<pauses, strokes scalp>> I don’t feel great about it. I used to, not so much these days. The Free Worlds League was founded on an idea, unlike the other Successor States which are founded on dynasties, or on outlandish codes of behavior. It’s gotten pretty damned far away from the ideal, and now it’s just another dynastic state… House Marik, House Davion, House Kurita, one is pretty much like another when you examine them closely enough.

6.      What was your chosen trade and how did you become a Mercenary?

My chosen trade is military administration. I was pretty well connected and pretty highly placed in the Marik Militia, until a few years back. You may remember the Andurien Crisis of 3030, and the fallout afterwards… yes, Tex. I’m that Captain Dante Briggs. I’m not a Captain any longer, and I don’t go by Dante anymore. It’s Myron now. Just call me Myron, please. After I got out of prison, I figured out rather quickly that my chances of a normal life were nil. But I wasn’t going to simply roll over and die. So, I decided to take my talents to the marketplace, like any good Free Worlder should.

7.      What lead you to the Royal Dragoon Guards?

Well, Force Captain Netto and I go back a ways, and he recommended me for the position. I have something of a reputation within the Marik military, not a good one. That makes it hard to find reputable employers. I won’t work for just anyone, but I can’t afford to be too picky, unfortunately.

8.      What is your current assignment in the Dragoons?

I am the command staff adjutant. Apparently your unit is expanding faster than your command structure is set up for, and Netto doesn’t want the Guards to become victims of their own success. You guys didn’t have one, and you badly need one. Oh, of course… an adjutant is somewhat like a “helper”. I have no command authority, regardless of title, and I don’t hold a numbered staff position. But all of your staff officers have other primary tasks, and they tend to get overwhelmed. My job is to help out wherever I am needed…. that’s something I’m good at. I’m also a mechwarrior in the Battalion command lance, but I doubt you’ll see me in the cockpit very often.

9.      What fellow Dragoons stick out in your mind?

Well, truth be told, at this point I have only spent any time with Major Mainwaring and Captain Netto. I have not been formally introduced to the rest of the regiment, so I have no idea what the reception will be. I understand that the majority of the unit is Davion, with a smattering of Steiner and Kurita thrown into the mix. I hope the first staff meeting goes well, in any case.

10.     What do you consider to be your strongest assets?

I have a gift for organization and problem-solving, process improvement, and so forth. I’m a people person. Given the chance, I will be able to help everyone do their own jobs more effectively, so the whole unit will benefit.

11.     What do you consider to be your greatest weakness?

I have a tendency to bite off more than I can chew. Plus I still have a bit of a reputation left over from the Andurien Crisis. No, I’d rather not get into that right now…. I’m trying to leave that behind me as much as I can, and I’d appreciate it if you let me.

12.     Do you have any strong political or religious beliefs?  Moral or ethical beliefs?

I believe in the ideals that the Free Worlds League theoretically stands for; life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness. The idea that free men and women, in charge of their own destinies, have certain inalienable rights. We’ve gotten pretty far away from these ideas, but we were closer to them than anywhere else in the Inner Sphere. Actually, there are a few polities in the Periphery that are pretty close to achieving it. I have some books if you’d like to… no? Okay then. If you change your mind, I’d love to discuss them with you sometime.

Religion? My family are long term attendees of the Maxwell Synod of the Reform Lutheran Church, but I’m not really very involved. I go to church for holidays, funerals, and weddings.

13.     What are your goals?  Personal, professional?

I want to start over. I want to command again. I want to leave the past behind me.

14.     Why do you now serve as a mercenary?

I serve as a mercenary because I won’t work for another house, and the Mariks decided to imprison me for two years over some political bullshit. You take what life gives you, and right now, I’ve been given a chance with the Royal Dragoon Guards.

15.     How would your fellow Dragoons describe your personality?

None of them really know me, so I doubt they could describe me. They would describe me as a man who won’t get fooled again.

16.     Do you have any special qualities aside from your job skills that you are particularly proud of?

I have a knack for knowing what people need. I have acquired a good sense for trouble inbound. I wish I’d had it in 3030, but I have it now.

17.     Is there anything that you just cannot do, no matter what

There used to be a lot of things I thought I’d never do. Now, after spending time in the Magistracy of Canopus, and spending time in prison, I don’t know. I’ll do what I have to do.

18.     What things do you hate, just cannot stand?

Yeah. There’s one son of a bitch, General Abbie Fordyce. He threw me under the train after I gave the man years of loyal service in dangerous conditions, doing whatever he needed done, regardless of what it meant for me legally. Now I’m an outcast and he’s retired on a pension? How is that right? It’s not. Him, and that dried up old biddy Dame Humphreys. I hate that woman. Her, and her damned Anduriens. To hell with them. Let them go their own way. Let the Capellans take them. We don’t need them.

19.     What things do you enjoy or love?

I love it when a plan comes together.

20.     Is there anything else you want your fellow Dragoons to know about you?

Yeah, don’t believe anything you hear about me, good or bad. Judge me for yourself, not for what you’ve heard. Trust is earned, I know. Let me earn yours.

Tomas Lynn Jones, I was born on a small world now in the Free Worlds League space called Ford.

2. What was life like growing up for you?

I had a good childhood, I mean I did want for a few things but I always had food and a dry place for my head.

3. How and where did you receive your education?

Went to primary school but I always found myself skipping out to help my dad workin’ on ‘Mechs and vehicles for the local militia or whatever mercs were on planet at the time.

4. Do you have any family or dependents currently?

Mom and Dad are on Tharkad. I keep in touch best I can I know they’re proud of me and want to hear about what I’m doing out in the universe.

5. How do you feel about the Great House you were born under? The other Houses?

I was born under House Steiner I remain loyal to the archon. I’m not fond of Marik as those are the guys who chased me from my home. Don’t really have an opinion of the other houses. Guess it’s best not in this line of work.

6. What was your chosen trade and how did you become a Mercenary?

I’ve always liked ‘Mechs pictured myself drivin’ one since I was a young ‘un. My dad wanted me to take over the family business and I kinda headed down that path until the war. Took up driving a ‘Mech and seems like my folks approve of it so I’m out to keep doin’ it as long as I’m able.

7. What led you to the Royal Dragoon Guards?

Seemed they had a need of someone and I had a mech and a need for work.

8. What is your current assignment in the Dragoons?

I’m currently in the pursuit lance of Fox Company.

9. What fellow Dragoons stick out in your mind?

I don’t think I’ve been around long enough to get to know anyone yet. Might ask me again here in a few weeks.

10. What do you consider to be your strongest assets?

I’ve got a good eye, I shoot strait and I follow orders. I also strive to never leave a teammate behind.

11. What do you consider to be your strongest weaknesses?

Impulsiveness. I sometimes don’t think things through all the way.

12. Do you have any strong political or religious beliefs? Moral or ethical beliefs?

None I can think of. I always try to do what my parents taught me was right that might count.

13. What are your goals? Personal, professional?

Currently my goals include being the best ‘Mech driver I can. Other than that doing right by this unit and my folks.

14. Why do you now serve as a mercenary?

With the war being over I went back to Tharkad. Me and dad fixed up this old Commando. When it was back in fighting shape he said it was mine. I felt the need to get out and see more of the universe and I figured this was a better than being back in the regular army.

15. How would your fellow Dragoons describe your personality?

I’d hope they’d describe me as loyal and a good teammate. Outside of that I don’t much care as long they can be civil while we’re in the field.

16. Do you have any special qualities aside from your job skills that you are particularly proud of?

Well, I can fix my own ride when it comes down to it. I guess unless we get stuck out there I won’t need to, but I take pride that I can when it comes down to it.

17. Is there anything that you just cannot do, no matter what?

Nothing that comes to mind at the moment. I suppose “kill someone I care about” is on the top of the list.

18. What things do you hate, just cannot stand?

Traitors, liars, the disloyal, and spiders.

19. What things do you enjoy or love?

Clear days, the wind in my hair, kittens, Piloting, and working on ‘Mechs.

20. Is there anything else you want your fellow Dragoons to know about you?

Nope. Anything they wanna know something they should ask, if I wanna let ‘em know I’ll tell when I see ‘em. ]]> http://texmechs.org/?feed=rss2&p=884 0 http://texmechs.org/?p=856 http://texmechs.org/?p=856#comments Tue, 30 Mar 2010 02:40:58 +0000 Andrew Benton http://texmechs.org/?p=856 1.      What is your name, and where were you born?

My name is Carbon Elroy Delacort – named after my granddad Elroy, and… well, I dunno why the frex I’m named Carbon. Mom hit the chems pretty hard most of my life. She liked carbon I suppose. I was born on Oberon IV, way out in the back past nowhere.

2.      What was life like growing up for you?

Life was pretty hard, but it was simple – you need something, you take it. Hopefully, nobody take it back. If you can’t take, you do without. If it weren’t nailed down, it was mine. If I could pry it up, weren’t nailed down, was it? Know I meanin’?

3.      How and where did you receive your education?

<<laughs>> There ain’t no educating on Oberon IV, Old Man. – I’s lucky I can even read! That right there cuz Mom was a chemist. She hadda read a lot, and I kinda picked it up and do the rest on my own. Mom said I has an active brain, always get into trouble on account I had no sense not to ask pesty queries of upper-ups.

4.      Do you have any family or dependents currently?

No. Mom burned long time past, and I got nobody else. That’s better, I wouldn’t have me, and I ain’t fit for critters.

5.      How do you feel about the Great House you were born under?  The other Houses?

Freg ‘em all. I couldn’t care half a crap about the lot of them. They never did nothing for me, except provide something to snatch on occasion.

6.      What was your chosen trade and how did you become a Mercenary?

‘Chosen trade’? Sounds so proper that way. I shoot what I get paid to shoot, and don’t ask pesty queries of my upper-ups what pay the bills.

7.      What lead you to the Royal Dragoon Guards?

They look like a bunch a proper stepping razors, and a man gotta have his friends, right? I was jumping here and there, nothing fixed and steady. That gets old, and I ain’t 14 no more. Gotta put in some roots, yeah? Royal Dragoons had a good seat for me, cuz I’m a crack trigger puller and I ain’t yet run from a fight unless it was stupid not to.

8.      What is your current assignment in the Dragoons?

I’m Number 2 in Fox Company’s recon lance. I drive a Feenix Hunk 1D… not what I’m used to, but it’s a fine piece of mech. I’m not the tinkering type, so I figure I’ll throw some scary paint on it and be goldy.

9.      What fellow Dragoons stick out in your mind?

The Recon LT is fine as shit, but I think she is probably too fancy lass for me. She don’t know her way around a mech, but she got a silver tiara, so they made her boss. I ain’t beefing about a lady boss – just about her low sticktime. She’s got other skills though, I hear she brings the pain man-to-man. I respect that.

The Major, he seems like a straight walker, kinda fancy though. Captain Atticus, he’s my direct upper-up, but I still don’t really know him. He made me Sarge, nobody trusted me with that job before, so I’m try not to disappoint. I dunno shit about Easy. I don’t talk to them, cuz they ride the Roarke’s Drift, and I’m on the Mule with the bags.

10.     What do you consider to be your strongest assets?

I can fregg some shit up come mech time. You tell me some needs killing, I’ll do it for you. I got a few skills might come in handy for other stuff, but I don’t wanna brag, you know?

11.     What do you consider to be your strongest weaknesses?

I left a mess behind me, and sometimes it catches up to a man. You know what I mean. I got debts to pay, the kind you never get clear of. So sometimes I got extra-curriculars.

12.     Do you have any strong political or religious beliefs?  Moral or ethical beliefs?

Nah. I’m a simple guy, know? I need three hots and a cot, some cash and some cooch. Beyond that, I don’t believe in much. Mom didn’t raise no fool, and Obie IV is no place for pie-in-the-sky imaginary friends like Jesus or Hubbard.

13.     What are your goals?  Personal, professional?

I told you once already, Old Man. I need three hots and a cot, some cash and some cooch.

14.     Why do you now serve as a mercenary?

I’m not exactly “regular army” material, am I?

15.     How would your fellow Dragoons describe your personality?

They’d say “Fregg, what an asshole“. Fregg ‘em right back. I am what I am. I don’t need them to love me. I know I’m not the easiest man to love, Mom told me that enough.

16.     Do you have any special qualities aside from your job skills that you are particularly proud of?

I can take a hit, and I know my way around the rough side of anywhere. I’m a good shot, I’m handy with a blade. I can work some spacey gear, talkies and guns.

17.     Is there anything that you just cannot do, no matter what?

Nah. I haven’t done it yet. There’s shit I’m no good at, but nothing I “just won’t do”.

18.     What things do you hate, just cannot stand?

Whiners and little bitches. Step up or stand down. Life is hard, and the Universe don’t give a shit.

19.     What things do you enjoy or love?

Uh, well, let’s see. I ain’t exactly a hobbies guy. I like drinking, and I like fregging. I don’t know much else. Show me something new, I’ll try it once.

20.     Is there anything else you want your fellow Dragoons to know about you?

Don’t touch my shit. Long as you manage that little thing, I’ll ALWAYS have your back. I ain’t never lied to or turned on one of my crew, except that one time on Obie IV, and anybody in Fox Company is crew.  But still, don’t touch my shit. I don’t have much in the world, and I will stab a bitch that take it.

Initial reports indicate that we captured at least three intact ‘Mechs- well, intact if we put a new cockpit on them.  Easy Company seemed to be in a particularly vengeful mood, and no less than three enemy BattleMechs fell to decapitation or pilot death.  Either Lady Luck was simply not with Metal Fire today, or Company “E” was as outraged and incensed as I about the death of Doctor Patel – and was looking for payback, not combat-by-the-numbers.  In addition to these excellent finds, Tex tells me there is likely to be quite a bit of salvage from the other savaged ‘Mechs we downed.  There were destroyed tanks as well, but those were left in the interest of getting out of Lemuelese territory as quickly as possible with the highest-value salvage.

Easy looks to have escaped with a not inconsiderable amount of armor damage, but nothing Tex feels he can’t have patched within a week – but he warns me we may already be dipping into whatever armor plate we can salvage to get the job done.  We brought ten tons of plate with us from Galatea, and his estimates show we will use that – and more – getting Easy back into full fighting trim.  Part of the damage was done by a quartet of ground support aircraft the locals call “Pookies”, which belonged to the Lemuelese government.  The mercenaries called for support, and the aircraft responded.  While not advanced craft, they packed a large number of dumbfire rockets – the same kind, I suspect, that we see in militias the Sphere over.  Cheap, one-shot weapons designed as a last-ditch all-or-nothing strike.  According to Leftenant Kano’s preliminary report, those craft hurt us – badly – but Pfc. King, our resident bird hunter, removed two of them from the sky as they passed.  I wonder how many more the Lemuelese military has?  Bengaluran intel says one squadron, but then, Bengaluran intel also said no nation save Montana Castille had any mercenary forces at all working for them.  Odd, that.

This afternoon I will accompany Tex and the Lance Commanders on a survey of the salvage, and a more detailed look at Easy Company’s damages.  Once we get some intelligence out of their Company Commander, we will schedule a tribunal for the Stinger pilot who executed the attack on the MASH unit.  If their Captain can confirm or deny that he was under orders to do so, it will make the process a bit more clear.  I had hoped to wipe their company from existence, but fortunately cooler heads prevailed on the field of battle and we failed to allow ourselves to become as brutal as our opponents.  Once beaten soundly, the tank crews and two of their MechWarriors were spared.  They retreated with two platoons of armor and two ‘Mechs.  Enough to make a fresh start somewhere – but also enough to slow us down should Lemuel decide to use them thus.  I hope they had a repair/refit clause in their contract.  As for the rest of our guests, if it is determined that the command itself is responsible for war crimes, we will turn them over to the Bengaluran authorities and keep every scrap of salvage rather than allow the MechWarriors that lived to take what’s left of their machines home with them as we normally would.

As the battle unfolded, I was in CIC with Force Captain Netto and a fuming 1st Sgt. Davenport.  Sonya was absolutely livid to be stuck in CIC rather than aboard her Jenner in the thick of the fight.  Every time I reminded her that her wounds or her duties as S-3 placed her here, I felt a bit of self-loathing.  A case of pot and kettle, if you will.  I don’t know who I was trying to convince – myself or her.  The hardest part of battalion command here in the RDG is knowing that I won’t be out there, with the rest of the unit as a good commander should be.  How can they trust me to lead them when I am forced to do it from some goddamned console in the belly of our DropShip?  Perhaps one of these days the NAIS will have a cure for NFVS, but until then I suppose I am stuck right where I was this morning.  The First Sergeant’s arm will heal – nervous damage doesn’t.

Now I sit back and wait for Atticus.  I hope that Fox Company, for all their MechWarrior’s inexperience, will pull their raid off well.  Whatever the outcome, it served the purpose of distracting the Lemuelese military – all but those “Pookies”…  So I suppose it is a win, as long as they come back reasonably intact.  I shall pour myself an uncharacteristically early drink, and wait for the ever cheerful voice of Specialist Jones to tell me I’ve an incoming message.

Note: As we are now in the field and I will not have reliable access to local comm networks or the system HPG, I’ll be keeping these journal entries for later sending in a bundle.

This is my first journal entry in a very long time, as I am not especially good about keeping up with this. Anyhow, an update…. I passed both of the unit’s initial certifications, and so have been promoted to both Mechwarrior and Private, First Class. Neither is especially prestigious, being entry level positions, but at least they give me a place in the food chain besides “bottom”. Other developments are more promising.

First, I was given a unit citation for being a useful addition to the tech bay. Since we are apparently short on qualified techs, I was able to assist the senior tech with some long-delayed issues in some of the unit mechs, hip-servos and so forth. The unit expressed their gratitude during a ceremony we held upon landing; it was very thoughtful.

Second, the Company First Sergeant is a FedSun Raspie – there were apparently some issues regarding my DCMS background. I was able to corner 1SGT in the mess hall after the meeting, and we were able to come to a tentative understanding. I hope there will be no further communication issues regarding this irrelevant ethnic detail.

The unit is currently based in Bengalura City – we apparently have an office near the palace, but most of our heavy equipment is still here at the airfield, being offloaded. Since I’ve been “volunteered” into the tech pool for the time being, I still haven’t seen these fancy accommodations. I expect I’ll get a chance to see the area once the battalion staff has figured out our deployments. There has apparently already been some trouble to the west, with Liang Hold – no casualties, but some equipment has been damaged by ground fire. Security is still pretty tight, and so far the scenery is “dingy tropical city”… not much to take pictures of. I have heard that the countryside is quite beautiful, though – I’m looking forward to getting a field posting.