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[Faith McCarron]

(ooc: I've roleplayed Faith in various stages of the timeline, and in various iterations of BattleTech/MechWarrior, and have built a kind of rough timeline for major life events in the character's existence. One the points on that timeline came from a tabletop game session where our unit CO used some of our pilot names in a Jihad era campaign. Well, poor Faith ended up in the clutches of the evil Word of Blake, so I figured I would have some fun rounding out that particular timeline event with some fiction. Will she make it out alive, or is the Jihad the final era of conflict for our favorite foul-mouthed heroine?)

Test of Faith - Chapter One

Jezrael Desert
Pleione
Word of Blake Protectorate
22 March, 3075




"We're about two minutes from getting cut off from the drop zone, guys. I don't know about you, but I don't want to end up left behind in this pile of rocks. Disengage as fast as you can." Faith barked the orders over the company frequency, but there wasn't a company left. The raid hadn't been a total disaster, but things had started to go south quickly. She and her company had spent the last six hours in a fighting retreat across the desert in an attempt to get back to their dropship. Unfortunately, from out of nowhere, the Word of Blake Militia forces had been bolstered by a level II of OmniMechs that she suspected were a Manei Domini formation.

They had whittled her unit down along the way, and now she could only field five mechs in addition to her Grasshopper. "They're on us too tight, there's no way we can turn and flank out of here." She heard the anxious voice of one of her mechwarriors over the comm as she checked the tactical display. The Blakists were indeed to close, and too fast. The fighting withdrawal was slowing the Capellans down, but if they turned and made for the dropship at full speed, the Blakists would tear them apart.

She couldn't shake the sinking feeling in her stomach as she realized what she had to do. Her surviving machines were all fast mediums. They could outpace her even at a full clip. The extraction zone was hot, and they didn't have much time, but if they pushed their machines to the max, they could reach it before the dropship had to lift off with the rest of the raiding force. All except her Grasshopper, which couldn't keep pace, and would only slow them down.

She brought her machine to a halt near a small rock outcropping. "Ok guys, listen up. I want you all to turn tail and run balls to the wall to the extraction point. Understand? I'll speed-bump the robes long enough to give you guys a clear shot."



A chorus of protests came over the comm, but she dismissed them all. "I know what I'm doing. And you know what you have to do. Now move before I turn around and start shooting at you guys!" She knew they didn't like it. She knew they would prefer a final stand. But that wasn't the best option here. There was no need for them to die, not just to save her ass. But they followed orders, and made for the dropship as fast as their mechs could take them.

I guess this is it, the end of the line. I have to admit, I never thought my end would come facing madmen alone on some desert. She knew the Blakists would be on her any second. She would go down fighting. But she would never know how this Jihad would end. Would the Confederation survive? Would her friends and comrades survive? For that matter, would humanity survive this massive conflagration that threatened to tear everything mankind had built to pieces? Would her daughter survive?

A PPC bolt ripped her from her daydream. It slammed into her mech's right shoulder with a crash. As if the PPC shot had been a signal, Word of Blake mechs appeared seemingly out of nowhere. She focused fire on a Preta that stood in front of her, savaging it with an alpha strike that tore gaping holes in its armor, but did not fell the mech. The heat from the alpha strike washed over her, forcing her to blink away the disorientation. More hits rocked her mech, too many to count or differentiate from where they came. Her damage readout paper doll lit up like a Christmas tree of red.

She pulled the trigger for another alpha, heedless of the heat at this point, but only two of her pulse lasers responded. A 70-ton Deva stepped between her and her target and absorbed the blast, moving faster and with more agility than a mech that size should have. It stopped for a second, as if taking her in, then gestured with it's left-arm blade towards her mech.

At that instant, she noticed the tiny forms of battlearmored troops around the Deva's feet. Their mimetic armor had obscured them from her view until now. Several of them raised their weapons and fired at her.

Suddenly, the systems in her mech blinked brightly for an instant, and then suddenly went out. All her displays were blank, the hum of the fusion reactor could be heard shutting down. She smashed the override button, but to no avail. Somehow, her mech was dead.

She could only watch as the six battlearmor troopers scurried towards her striken mech, and began scaling it. She pulled her neurohelmet off and threw it as hard as she could to the cockpit floor. There was nothing she could do. Either the battlearmor troopers were going to crack her cockpit and kill her, or she was going to end up a prisoner to these madmen who were destroying the Inner Sphere. Her hand rested for a second on the handle of her Sternsnacht Python. It would do nothing to the armored battlesuits coming for her, but for a brief moment, she entertained the thought of using it to end everything right then and there, killing herself before being captured. No, that's giving up. That's punching out. If this is the end, then they have to force it.

After a few seconds of the terrible sound of wrenching, screeching metal, the cockpit hatch was suddenly torn away, the desert air entering the cockpit. One trooper pointed his weapon at her, and she thought for an instant that he was going to fire. Instead, he gestured for her to get up out of her command couch. She unbuckled herself and started to stand, but as she did so, the trooper grabbed her arm with the articulated hand of his suit and pulled her free.


For a moment, she thought the trooper was going to fling her to the ground like a ragdoll, but instead, he used the strength of the suit to hold her while he jumped clear of the mech, feathering his jump jets for a smooth landing. When the reached the ground, he forced her to her knees. As the desert wind swept her tangled hair around her face and provided some sense of cool as it passed over the beads of sweat on her skin, she was aware of a sound now that she was free of the confines of her mech. She glanced behind her in the direction of the noise, and she could see an Overlord class dropship burning it's way out from the planet. The rest of the Rangers had escaped.

[Faith McCarron]

Test of Faith - Chapter Two

Jezrael Desert
Pleione
Word of Blake Protectorate
22 March, 3075


"Bring her," a female voice boomed over external speakers. The voice was cold and metallic from the speakers, but the sense of authority carried in the words somehow was not lost in the transmission. With those words, the Deva first, then the other omnis, turned and moved off, leaving Faith and the six-man battlearmor level II alone seemingly in the middle of the desert. She said nothing to them, and they said nothing in return. All they did was disarm her of her Python pistol, and then proceeded to wait.

It seemed like an eternity waiting there alone amid the gently blowing sand. The battlearmor troopers kept an alert watch for any sign of trouble, but other than that, made no moves. The sound of the windswept sand was almost serene, punctuated only occasionally by the soft whirring of some component or other on the armored infantrymen who stood guard over her. She had started to let her mind relax slightly to the soft sounds, when suddenly, the telltale sound of a hovercraft could be heard approaching. A few seconds later, the craft came into view, kicking up clouds of sand as it stopped.

Four infantrymen disembarked from the side hatch that swung open, and they quickly made their way over to where she was still kneeling in the sand. Two of the soldiers grabbed her by the arms and helped her up before leading her over to and then into the hovercraft. With all the unarmored infantry back aboard, the hovercraft sped away to wherever it was going.

Faith didn't look up at any of the four guards in the vehicle. For an instant, her mind thought of escape, but she quickly dismissed the idea. Though this would undoubtedly be her best chance at escape in who knew how long, the odds of her overpowering the four troopers were depressingly small. No, there would be no quick escape. She was going to have to tough this one out, and hope that a chance for escape or rescue would come in it's own good time.

She spent the rest of the trip in silence, and after several minutes, she could feel the vehicle coming to a stop once again. The guards ushered her out, and she found herself in some kind of vehicle loading and offloading bay. There were vehicles of all sorts, most returning, some damaged, and a small army of techs crawling over the place. Her captors led her through a maze of hallways and corridors, twice using a lift car, to the point that she had absolutely no sense of how large the facility was. Judging from the walls, which cosmetically displayed an air of Star League about them, she had to be in Fortress Thunder Rock, a Star League era facility that had survived and was the military hub of the desert world during it's days under Capellan rule, and now clearly also under Blakist rule as well.

There were robed Word of Blake personnel everywhere, seeming to scurry this way and that. Finally, they reached a set of doors, which hissed open to reveal a small room with another set of doors on the opposing wall. Off to the left was a small desk, behind which a robed adept sat, while two guards in gray jumpsuits stood in front of her. The two infantrymen who had escorted her this far let go of her arms, passing her off to the new guards. These new guards, she could tell, weren't combat soldiers, but security personnel. One of the guards grabbed her forarm and led her the few steps to the desk, took her hand and pressed her thumb against a small sensor pad.

Almost instantly, the holodisplay in front of the robed Blakist sitting behind the desk flashed to life with a flurry of files. She could see her picture, her CCAF ID photo from the look of it, and the header MCCARRON, FAITH ALEXANDRA, but couldn't read any more. It was only natural that the Blakists had a file on her, after all, they had been running the HPG networks in the Confederation for over almost two decades before the white-out. The amount of data they must have had on her just from that was probably enough, not even factoring in any work that their ROM agents had done.

Whatever the desk clerk was doing, after a moment, he seemed satisfied and nodded to the guards. "Peace of Blake be with you, and may we reclaim all to the blessed Word." She felt like screaming some obscenities at him, but she knew it would do no good. No, here, she had to be a survivor. The guards led her through the second set of doors, which opened to a small enclosure, an almost airlock-like set up. One of the guards helped her out of her cooling vest, while the other unbuckled and removed her empty gunbelt. They gestured to a small ledge on one side of the small space, just about the right height to serve as a bench. "Take off your boots". She sat down on the ledge and proceeded to unlace her knee-lenth boots, realizing that this was the first time in quite a while that any of the Blakists had addressed her at all. She stood the boots up on the floor, then neatly tucked her socks, which she had removed as well, into them, then raised her gaze towards the guards, who gestured for her to stand up. She was now clad only in her black form-fitting leggings and matching athletic-type bra which were both made of a durable moisture wicking and heat transferring fabric, and her 4TCR tank top.

They led her through the opposing set of doors, which hissed shut with a disturbing degree of finality behind them. The steel floor was cold beneath her now bare feet, almost comfortably so. They led her down a long corridor with more doors on the walls than she could count. It was at this point that she noticed the aesthetics had changed. Gone were the familiar Star League vibes, replaced with a sense of cold darkness.

None of the doors were marked, and she had no idea what differentiated the door they stopped at from any other. The guard on her left hit a button on the panel next to the door, and the door opened with a slight hiss. The room they led her into seemed spacious, probably because there was only a single chair in the entirety of the room. So this is your Word of Blake torture chamber, she thought to herself. The guards led her to the chair and sat her down in it. They quickly fastened restraints at her wrists and ankles which seemed to use some kind of magnetic locking system. Then, without saying a word, they left, and the door hissed shut behind them.

She tried to take stock of her surroundings. The lighting was somewhat dim, but she could make out the four bare walls around her. The way that the light shone down from above her made it hard to see the ceiling, and the ferrocrete floor was barren except for a single drain that she was just able to see beneath her chair. All she could do was sit there and wait. It was annoying. She could feel her tension rising with the passing moments, like waiting in an empty room at a doctor's office for the doctor to come in.

After what seemed like an eternity, she jumped, startled slightly as the door opened. The chair was situated facing away from the door, so she could not get a good look at the person entering at first. She heard the sound of the persons boots on the floor, before a robed figure walked around her and stopped a few meters in front of her. The woman pulled back the hood of her robe, and the lighting in the room seemed to increase a small amount. The woman standing in front of her seemed, at first glance, quite normal. Her Word of Blake styled robes were white, trimmed in a deep red that matched her hair, which was pulled back in a severe ponytail. She was striking, even beautiful, yet something about her was off. Her eyes glowed with an almost unnatural blue hue.

"Faith McCarron", the woman paused almost unnauturally between saying Faith's name aloud. "Tell me, Faith, do you believe in coincidence? Are events guided by the blind hand of chance, or the steady hand of fate?" As she spoke, she blinked slowly, an almost unnatural, cat-like gesture. When her eyes opened, they shone a fiery shade of red.

[Faith McCarron]

Test of Faith - Chapter Three

Fortress Thunder Rock
Pleione
Word of Blake Protectorate
22 March, 3075


Manei Domini Poltergeist Demi-Precentor-Delta Eisheth stood on the command deck above the primary control center of the Thunder Rock facility. Her eyes were closed, but she was listening. She was monitoring all the pertinent situations unfolding, but keeping them in the background. The Capellan raiders were fleeing. The heretics had expected far less resistance than they met, and would be returning with their tails between their legs. All business with the planetary puppet government were running smoothly, which she took note of, as she left the daily interactions with the government and population to the Protectorate Militia Precentor in charge.

A pre-set alert notified her that a file of particular interest had been accessed. She called the file up in her mind, barely even taxing her implanted Triple Core Processor. MCCARRON, FAITH ALEXANDRA had just been registered into the detention wing of the facility. She glanced over the file to refresh her memory. Subject female, 48 years of age, hair color blonde, eye color blue, height 1.67 meters. She had been something of an athlete in her youth before injuries forced her from competition. She had trained as a mechwarrior and risen quickly to prominence, both for her career in the field and her exploits on Solaris VII. Exceptional mechwarrior skills, but a quick temper. Never married. One child, daughter, Acadia, born 3050, also a mechwarrior.

"Precentor Eisheth, you asked to be notified when your reclamation was ready. She is being taken to a cell now" The voice, though inaudible to all the world, nevertheless she heard. Linked directly to the fortress computer network, with her mind she reached out and found the cell number where the guards were taking her newest project. She was certain that this was one of which Apollyon and even The Master himself would be proud when she was done.

Walking silently, passing through the hallways and corridors as if she were a ghost, virtually unnoticed by the dedicated personnel around her, she made her way quickly, but not hurriedly, to the detention wing. While security in the facility was heavy, she was beyond the need to show identification or credentials. Those were inconveniences of the world of the frails. The ascended had no use for such mundane obstacles. They were, just as the Master's vision had sought, virtually one with the technology around them. At times, she felt almost like a god, existing on a plane above all those frail humans around her. No, not a god, she reminded herself, simply a servant. A servant to destiny and the will of the Master.

As she entered the cell, she continued to use unaugmented vision. She listened carefully, and could make out the rapid beat of the woman's heart. She could smell, almost taste the adrenaline and fear of a trapped creature, though as she came to stand in front of the woman and regarded her with normal vision, she could see that Faith was doing all she could to hide and control those things that Eisheth's Manei Domini senses had allowed her to pick up on. To her credit, Faith did not struggle in any futile attempt at a show of strength. Still, Eisheth could see the anger in the woman's eyes, as if she wanted to wrest herself free of the restraints and attack Eisheth on the spot. Good, your spirit is as strong as I imagined it would be. It shall be all the more rewarding to shatter it, tear it down, and refocus it in service to the divine will of Blake and the Master.

She drew back the hood of her robe to afford her subject a look at her. She blinked her vision over to thermal to take in the heat of the anger and fear radiating off of the restrained mechwarrior. "Faith McCarron" She paused between each word, as if sizing up the woman before her. "Tell me, Faith, do you believe in coincidence? Are events guided by the blind hand of chance, or the steady hand of fate?"

Faith kept her gaze locked on Eisheth. "What I know is that if by chance, you released me from this chair, I would kick your little cyborg ass."

Eisheth smiled genuinely, and began to pace out a slow circle around her prisoner. "Your vitriol is unnecessary. I am not your enemy.

Faith scoffed in response. "Am I supposed to sing Kumbaya before you start torturing me or something?"

Eisheth continued her walk. Faith's heart rate remained high, in spite of her bravado. "I am not your jailer, your interrogator, or your torturer. I am here as your guide."

"Well I hope you brought your 'A' game, because you're going to need it if you want anything out of me."

Eisheth stopped her pacing, stepped towards Faith, and put her hand gently on the woman's shoulder. "I'm not asking anything of you. I'm not going to try to pry any precious secrets from you. I am not here for your interrogation, I am here for your reclamation."

Faith looked away for a moment. "Is that some kind of code word for turning me into one of your zombies?"

"Faith....it is a lovely name. And so fitting for our work here. Deep down, you and I want the same thing. We want humanity united in peace across the stars. That is the true vision of Blake's words. What I have is faith in those words, and in the Master's vision for bringing them about." She paused for a moment. "We all come to our faith in different ways. I grew up in what you callously would call the Chaos March. Governments abandoned me, nobles abandoned me, all the false institutions that heretics rely on abandoned me. But when my mother gave me over to the order as a child, she gave me the greatest gift she possibly could have. For when I joined the order, my eyes were opened to the uselessness of all of those things on the outside, the Marches and Commonalities and nobles and House Lords. We can only be lifted up by vision, true vision, and it has been there for us all along, since the sainted Blake laid it out in his Word."

Faith struggled for the first time against her bonds. "Yeah well you have a funny way of showing it, sister. I fight for the Confederation, for my home. I've got nothing in common with you and your band of crazies.

Eisheth continued to smile, "I asked earlier if you believe in chance or in fate. The reason I asked, is that because when your band of raiders touched down, we quickly identified your unit, and from the mechs, the likely roster. I looked it over, and none of the people stood out, none but you. You were the one that struck me as worthy of reclamation, and now, here you sit. I do not believe in coincidence."

Faith shook her head. "You keep using that word, 'reclamation', you're not going to brainwash me."

Eisheth took a deep breath. She still does not understand. "As I said before, we all come to our faith in different ways. I discovered mine of my own volition, through years of study. Yours is buried deep inside you. You know the wisdom of Blake's words, and that they are humanity's greatest hope. But all your life you have been trained to ignore it. You have been coerced by corrupt, impure systems and monarchs. You have built up walls and defenses to keep the truth locked away, so that you can go on pretending and living the farce that petty house lords would have you live. But now you are here, and guided by the wisdom of the Master and the blessed Apollyon, I will be your guide as we tear down those walls, shatter the false belief systems you have been shackled to, and open your eyes. You have many skills and talents, and when we have revealed your inner truth, they will be put to glorious use in serving the will of the Master."

Faith started to laugh. "You are off your rocker, sister. If you expect me to believe any of that garbage, you have another thing coming. I'm not going to serve you or your crackpot master, and I'm not going to break, so you might as well kill me now."

Eisheth caressed Faith's cheek softly. "I have no desire to kill you. And you will only be broken so far as it is necessary for you to be rebuilt and reborn."

Faith pulled her head away at Eisheth's touch. "So I should just sit back, relax, and it's all going to be fine, right?"

In her mind, Eisheth called up a file image of Faith's daughter. "You are going to be reborn, Faith. You are a mother, you know that with any birth there is pain. The same must be true here. But I can promise you that the reward will be far in excess of the burden."

Eisheth reached into her robes and removed a syringe from an inner pocket. She removed the seal cap and gently pushed the needle into Faith's arm. "I must go, for a time. When I return, we shall begin the process of peeling back the barriers to your enlightenment."

With that, she walked away and left the cell. As the door slid shut behind her, she activated the release for the restraints binding Faith to the chair. The drug she had just administered would take 12 hours to run it's full course. In the meantime, she would meditate on the great task of reclamation set before her.

[Faith McCarron]

Test of Faith - Chapter Four


Fortress Thunder Rock
Pleione
Word of Blake Protectorate
23 March, 3075


Faith moved her arms and legs, more just because she could than anything else. After the deranged Word of Blake fanatic had left, the locks on the restraints binding her wrists and ankles to the chair had released. She was confused, frightened, and angry. She had assumed that the fanatical Blakists would interrogate, and probably torture her for information about the unit, Capellan force dispositions and the like, but this was far, far worse.

Ever since the dawn of the Blakist Jihad, there had been rumors of prisoners being brainwashed and sent to fight for the Word. In the most famous incident, Colonel Fritz Donner had nearly wiped out a gathering of anti-Blakist leaders on Arc-Royal, and the rumors were that the Word had programmed him into doing so. But that's all they had been, rumors. Now she found herself here, face to face with a woman who was doubtless insane, who was intent on making her 'reclamation' very much a real thing.

Pull it together, Faith. You just have to outlast them. Keep saying 'no' until it kills you, or you get rescued. After a few moments, she stood up and began walking around the room. There was no way out, of course, but just to explore the surroundings felt good. At least she was doing something. She rubbed her arm absentmindedly. The witch had injected her with something. There was nothing she could do about it except try to battle through whatever it was they had injected her with.

After a few minutes, she started to notice a slight ringing in her ears, a mild sense of disorientation. She made her way to the chair and sat down, closed her eyes, and tried to focus on her breathing. Something was wrong. Her entire sense of equilibrium was wrong. She found herself gripping the arm rests of the chair trying to steady herself, even though she was seated. A moment later, she was so disoriented that she somehow fell out of the chair and onto the cold ferrocrete floor.

A moment later, she felt a painful, wrenching spasm rip through her abdomen. Before long, her stomach and diaphragm were rocked by painful spasms and she vomited uncontrollably. Just as she would begin to relax and orient herself relative to the overhead light, she would be rocked by more spasms and vomiting. In the end, the disorientation overcame her, and she drifted into unconsciousness.

She awoke curled in the fetal position on the floor. She had no idea how much time had passed. The cell had obviously been cleaned while she was unconscious, as the floor was free of any sign of her induced vomiting. She sat up on the floor and tried to get her bearings. She felt as if she had just awakened from a fever, with a kind of hangover effect. Her mouth was terribly dry.

Then suddenly, the door opened and two guards entered, followed by the woman she had seen before. The second guard wheeled some sort of small cart in with him, but before Faith could examine it in any detail, the two guards picked her up off the floor and forced her into a kneeling position. The Blakist walked over to her. Rather than the seemingly formal robes she had worn yesterday, today she wore a rather simple white jumpsuit, adorned only with the downward facing broadsword insignia of the Word of Blake. "Symbolism surrounds us. We cannot escape it. No doubt you are feeling weak from all the purging last night. We purge ourselves to rid ourselves of excesses, and are left with that which is the strongest. Our time together today is short, Faith. But we embark on the first step of your journey of reclamation."

One of the guards had wheeled the cart closer to where they had her kneeling. The Manei Domini looked deep into Faith's eyes, hers burning an artificial bright blue in contrast to the natural blue of Faith's eyes. "Let go of pride, vanity, pretentiousness. Let them fall away and realize your true potential as an instrument of the Word of Blake." The woman picked up an object from the cart. Faith kept her eyes locked on the Blakist's gaze. She heard a soft hum, and felt cold metal against her skin as the Precentor ran some kind of trimmer over her scalp. Her blonde locks fell to the floor, and after several more passes, her head had been shaven clean.

She fought hard to control her breathing and her heart rate, not wanting to give the fanatic any satisfaction. The guards pulled her to her feet, and manacled her hands in front of her with a pair of relatively loose fitting cuffs connected by a solid bar of metal with a hole through the center. They forced her arms above her head and slipped the manacles over a rod protruding from the ceiling that she had not noticed before. A ring locked into place, securing the cuffs to the pole, ensuring that her arms remained over her head, locked at such a height that the soles of her feet still touched the floor.

The Precentor gestured to the guards, and they both left the cell, the door sealing shut behind them. "We must cut away the false trappings that you have been bound by." As she spoke, she produced a rather ceremonial looking knife from her belt. Delicately, she took Faith's 4TCR tank top in one hand and slipped the knife between the fabric and Faith's skin with the blade facing outward and slit it open down the front. A few more quick slices to both straps and it came loose entirely, the Manei Domini casting it to the floor. Using a similar, blade-outward motion, she slid the blade directly down the center of Faith's chest, the razor sharp blade cutting through the moisture-wicking fabric of her sports bra with ease. Two more cuts and it went the way of her tank top. Having stripped Faith to the waist, Eisheth walked around to stand directly behind her. She felt the cold steel of the blade against her skin again, and with a few slices, her captor was soon able to peel away her leggings, leaving her now totally naked and exposed.

"Just as we cut away garments to lay bare the flesh, we will soon slice away the old notions that bind you to an outdated way of thinking and seeing. I will leave you for a time to ponder on that." As she left, the Precentor issued a series of commands with her thoughts.

First, the lighting in the room increased to an almost blinding intensity, as if shining on Faith from every angle. It was a struggle to keep her eyes open against the intense flood of light.

Secondly, the bar to which her manacles were attached retracted slightly, leaving her in somewhat of an awkward position. If she stood on her tip-toes, she could loosen the tension on her arms, chest, and back. If not, she hung suspended with incredible stress on her upper body. At first, she tried to alternate between the two positions, switching when one became too painful or taxing. But after a time, she could not sustain it any further. The temperature in the cell had dropped, tightening her muscles, and when she tried to stand on her toes, her calves burned with an excruciating pain.

After a while, she began losing track of time. She knew she was sleepy, and her upper body was in pain, but she could not sleep. In the intense light, she began to see things, as if someone was appearing and disappearing suddenly as soon as they attracted her gaze. She felt as if hands were softly touching her at various times, and as she would try to wrest herself from the touch, the change in position would send more arcs of pain through her already screaming muscles.

She was left to hang there in a terror world, neither sleep nor waking, tormented by slight figments of her imagination, and completely at the whims of her captors.

[Faith McCarron]

(ooc: Special thanks here to Ace Kaller for participating and for supporting my crazy ideas when I pitched the current Faith plotline to him, and for agreeing to let me weave one of his characters into the Faithscape. Also note that I treat time VERY roughly in my writing, it's not meant to be precise or exact. Things move at the speed of "plot". And thanks for continuing to read. )


Test of Faith - Chapter Five

4TCR Barracks Complex
Outskirts of the Forbidden City
Sian
Capellan Confederation
24 March, 3075


The 4th Tau Ceti Rangers had taken to having a kind of impromptu parlor and lounge immediately inside the entrance to what was supposed to have been their temporary barracks on Sian. That had been five years ago. The temporary barracks had become their home for the last trying years of the Jihad, as they came and went in the struggle to survive the conflagration sweeping the entire Inner Sphere.

Having passed inspection at the outer checkpoint, Acadia McCarron pushed through the swinging doors into the lounge with a burst. She spun around in an energetic and almost flamboyant way, letting her hair swirl around her with it's alternating streaks of her natural raven-black color and the brilliant sapphire blue that she had taken to dying her hair in. "BAM! Count 'em people, FIVE toasters burned on that last raid. In a Phoenix Hawk!"

She hadn't expected a chorus of applause, but usually people at least played along somewhat with her particular style of braggadocio. This time it seemed to fall as flat as a bad joke told to a room full of DCMS warlords. Her eyes darted around the room. Some people forced a smile, others deliberately avoided her gaze. Something was wrong. "Tough crowd," she muttered under her breath as she passed through the room and took the corridor towards the command center.

She didn't bother showing her ID badge to the desk officer, and for the first time she could remember since this particular man had been assigned to the post, he didn't seem particularly flustered by her ignoring of protocol. She passed a bend in the corridor and the entrance to the command center came into view. In addition to the regular guard posted at the door, who she recognized, there was also a Death Commado standing watch, meaning one or more of the Strategios were inside.

She reached the door and moved to enter, but the Death Commando barred her way with his arm. She gave the man an exaggerated eye-roll, and produced her ID badge from her shirt pocket. As he examined it, she turned to the other guard. "What's going on, Pete? Something is off around here."

The sergeant's eyes looked away for a second, and his facial expression did not bode well. "You're gonna have to talk to Ork or your dad about that one. Sorry, little lady." She frowned. The Death Commando handed her badge back to her, and the 4TCR sergeant opened the door for her.

The command area was fully staffed, and most of the senior officers were standing around the center table holomap with one of the Strategios. The map was focused, as it seemingly always was, on the Confederation border with the Word of Blake Protectorate. She approached the small crowd of people and waited for a pause in the speaking.

"So, anyone want to tell me what's going on around here? You all look like a Tetatae ate your cat." At her words, all the eyes in the room darted back and forth between her and Ace. Well, all except for the Strategio Jiang-jun, who gave her a foul look of displeasure, and Ace, who gestured for her to join him in his office. She followed him in and closed the door behind her. She wasted no time getting to the point.

"So.....what the hell is going on?" She could tell from his hesitation that something was seriously wrong now. She waited impatiently with her arms crossed across her chest.

Ace let out a deep breath, then started to speak. "Acadia, your mom didn't make it back from the raid on Pleione."

She cocked her head to the side and blinked, as if confused. "What do you mean she 'didn't make it back'? She's.....she's dead? Is that what you're trying to tell me?" Her mind raced uncontrollably. It couldn't be true.

"We don't know." He was purposely making his statements short, and it was annoying her.

She furrowed her brow, and raised her voice slightly, "What do you mean you don't know? How can you not know? I know the force made it back, I saw the Yong Huo parked on the tarmac as I came in. So how can you not know?" She gestured in the direction of the spaceport as she spoke to emphasize her point.

Ace ran his hand through his hair. "The raid went bad. At least part of a Shadow Division was also on the planet, and they had to break off the attack early. Your mom's company nearly got cut off heading back to the exfil point. They were taking heavy losses and weren't going to make it to the LZ, so she made a choice. She turned and delayed the pursuers, and the rest of the guys made it to the dropship. Last readings were her mech shut down and then went off the grid just as they lifted off."

Acadia took a second to soak it all in. "So then, she's probably still alive. I mean, they would have taken her prisoner, right?"

"With the Blakists......we just don't know. We know they took a few of our people prisoner earlier in the fight, but who the hell can figure these robes out."

"So when are we leaving to go get her back?" Acadia's mech hadn't taken too severe damage in her last fight, they could have it ready in time for her to join the rescue effort. That must be what they were planning outside with the Strategios.

Ace looked down and to the side, and closed his eyes. "We're not."

The two words hit her like the fist of an Atlas. "What?!" She shouted, her composure shattered and anger spewing out. "What the hell do you mean we're not going to get her? We can't just leave her there. This is crazy!"

He held up his hand to stop her tirade, and the angst weighed on his face. "We can't mount a rescue mission. Not for one person."

She stormed closer to him, pointing angrily at him as she continued to yell, heedless of what anyone outside in the command center might hear. "What is wrong with you? We have to. She would go back for you."

"No, she wouldn't. Not in this situation."

She was up in his face now, and she hit him in the chest with her open palm. "That's crap! You know she would. Look, this isn't like she got captured by the DavRats and they're going to ransom her back or something. Do you have any idea what those freaks are probably doing to her right now while you're doing nothing? They're probably frakking torturing her right now and you're going to write her off? Like hell!"

Having faced considerable of her fury, Ace raised his voice in response. "You think I want to? You think I have any choice? Even if right now we break every rule and go back for one person, I can scrape together maybe a battalion worth of mechs and support. They've got three whole damn militia divisions on planet, plus however many of their cyber-freaks they decided to bring. How am I supposed to crack a malfing Star League fortress with those odds? I can't."

"You can't just leave her there, we're talking about my mom!"

"I have no choice!"

She smacked him in the chest one last time, "Stroke off!" and with that she stormed out the door slamming it behind her and running out of the command center.

*****

As Acadia left, Cat entered the command center, just in time to witness the tumultuous sendoff. The officers gathered outside were silent, not knowing what to do or say. And who could blame them. Cat made her way over to the XO's office and knocked on the door gently before entering and quickly closing the door behind her.

"I take it delivering the news did not go well?"

Ace laughed in frustration. "Yeah, you could say that. But," he paused for a moment, "I can't blame her. Hell, I'm angry at myself, how can I blame her for the same."

Cat took off her coat and hung in on the back of the door before taking the seat opposite the XO's desk. "If it is any consolation, you are making the right choice. That is the simple truth."

Ace walked over to the storage cabinet and pulled out a bottle of Scotch. He poured two glasses, handing one to Cat before taking a swig himself. "No, it's the wrong choice, but it's the only one I have."

"She will come around to understand it in time."

Ace scoffed, "I'm not sure I understand it. But I understand that she sure as hell won't"

Cat leaned back in the chair and crossed her legs before taking a long, slow drink of the Scotch, giving it ample time to slightly burn in her mouth. "Look, I know that I am the last person in all of the universe to comment on parental/child relationships. But I do know that girl well, and she will adapt."

Ace took another drink from his glass. "She had a good teacher."

Cat smirked slightly. "I taught her to pilot a mech. You two taught her how to be a good person. There is one hell of a difference."

He appeared to think long and hard on his next words, and Cat was not inclined to rush him. "We both know that she is very much her mother's daughter. And so I've been asking myself, what would Faith have done if she were in this position 25 years ago. And the answer I'm left with, is that she would have gone after her mother."

Cat looked him in the eye. "And so you are convinced that Acadia will also?"

He met her gaze and she could see the resolution in his eyes. "Yes. I'd stake my life on it. And so I'm going to ask something of you, Cat. Probably the hardest thing I've ever asked."

Cat preempted what she assumed he was going to say next. "Ace I can try to talk her out of it, but if she is determined, I am not sure what I can do to stop her that you cannot."

He held up his hand to cut her off. "I'm not going to ask you to stop her. I'm going to ask you to go with her. Hear me out. She's young, she's brash, and she's bold. But she's also smart. She knows that she doesn't have the contacts or the skill set to pull off any kind of rescue mission on her own. But she knows someone who does. You."

Cat was thrown for a loop with the direction the conversation had gone. She had never in a million years imagined that Ace would want her to go along with such a long shot of a plan. She took a moment to think and recover her wits. "I think you overestimate my abilities."

He smiled. "No I don't. Look, I'm not saying it's easy. That's why I said it's the hardest thing I've ever asked of you. Odds are this is a one-way trip. And you should also know, there's a deadline. That planning session out there is a briefing on a new campaign set for July. One of the worlds being hit is Pleione. But it's not an invasion or a raid. It's a strike mission. They're going to go in, hit the Blakists on the ground and in space with everything they have, and jump out. We're talking WMD deployments here. If they've got Faith, they've got her in Thunder Rock. And that fortress is coming down. So.....you in?"

[Bill Bullet]

Edge of my seat here. Loving the visceral terror of it all!

[Faith McCarron]

Test of Faith - Chapter Six


Fortress Castle Rock
Pleione
Word of Blake Protectorate
24 March, 3075


Time was meaningless under the blazing lights of her cell. She could barely differentiate consciousness from unconsciousness, real from unreal. It took Faith a moment to register that she was being manhandled by the two guards. She tried to blink herself to reality, suddenly aware that the lights had dimmed to normal levels. Her eyes darted around the room. Her Manei Domini tormentor was there, looking on dispassionately with coldly mechanical eyes. There was also a female Blakist technician holding some kind of pad.

They had pulled her down and released her hands, and pushed her roughly down on an inclined table. The Precentor walked closer as the guards secured her wrists and ankles to the table, and the technician began attaching a series of electrodes to various points all over Faith's body. The Precentor smiled gently.

"Welcome back, Faith. I trust your time of contemplation was productive. We learn much about ourselves when we are alone with only our thoughts, wouldn't you agree?" As she spoke, the tech inserted two IVs into her arm. "You should begin to feel better shortly. We want you in good condition for the next phase of your reclamation. We will build your fluids back up. The other needle is delivering a drug into your bloodstream to heighten your senses." She ran the tips of her fingers over Faith's bare flesh for effect, and Faith nearly gasped at the effects of the heightened sensations.

"Pain is like a fire that purifies us, burning away the unneeded components until we are left with only our core, our soul. Let it wash over you." As the Precentor spoke, a wave of pain unlike she had ever felt washed over Faith, and she writhed against her bonds. Eisheth manipulated the delivery of pain like an expert, at times plucking the nerves all over Faith's body at once, and at other times focusing it like a surgeon.

She had no idea how long it went on for. At times she screamed. At times she fought at her most resolute to remain silent. Suddenly there was a pause. Faith looked into Eisheth's eyes, and for the first time, she didn't project defiance, but instead virtually begged her to stop. The room was cold and she almost shivered as the air passed over the droplets of sweat beaded all over her body.

Eisheth caressed Faith cheek. "Let go. Let it claim you." As she with drew her hand, the pain returned, more intense than ever, burning all over her body. It felt as though every nerve in her body was going to explode in a fiery conflagration. She let out a bloodcurdling scream, and as she did so, her vision began to fade into darkness. She felt as though she was falling, before she passed out and everything was consumed with darkness.

She rocked against her bonds, arching her back as much as her restraints allowed, and gasped cold air into her lungs. Her eyes flashed to Eisheth, who held a syringe with the needle pressed into Faith's arm. "Take it in, more. Let the pain consume you until there is nothing left but your core".

The pain hit again, even more intense. She screamed as if somehow her cries could release some of the pain that was soaking to the core of her body. She clenched her hands into fists, digging her nails into her palms. She strained as if the pain could give her superhuman strength and tear free of her bonds, but they did not give way.

It felt as if her heart exploded. The breath was torn from her lungs, and she tried to gasp it back in, but nothing came. She blinked quizzically, and darkness crept into the outside of her vision. The tunnel vision centered itself on the dispassionate face of the woman in control of all this pain, and it felt as if she was falling, the darkness consuming her.


*****


Faith found herself standing in a dim corridor. She was dressed in a flowing white dress, and her bare feet felt the cold of the stone beneath her feet. It felt good, it felt as if she were home. She looked around, examining the ornate stonework of the walls around her. She looked her her hands, and noticed a soft, almost warm glow to her skin.

She heard a voice from behind her, and turned to see a woman approaching her. The woman was dressed casually, as if heading out for a quick drink at the corner bar. Her features were strong, framed by her golden blonde locks.

"Hey, sorry I'm underdressed. Didn't get a lot of warning on this one, had to throw on any old thing. But I'm here now."

Faith furrowed her brow. "Who....who are you and what is going on?"

"Yeah....this whole thing..." she gestured around "not my idea. It's just a job, I do what I'm told. But hey, a girl needs a paycheck. Anyway, can't do the specific 'who what when' thing for you, not that easy. Don't blame me, I don't make the rules. But I have good news and bad news. Which do you want first?"

Faith was confused. She had no idea where she was, and who this rather snarky woman was. "I'm confused."

The woman bit her lip for a second, before going on. "Ok, well I'm in a good news kind of mood, so I'll hit you with that first. The good news, that dress you're wearing, my outfit, the walls, you're not going to find a broadsword anywhere around. The toasters aren't big around here, they kinda do their own thing, and that's cool with me, they seem like a bore."

Faith rubbed her eyes, trying to wrap her head around what was going on. "And the bad news?"

The woman gave an almost exaggerated frown. "The bad news is....you're dead, sister."

Faith laughed out loud. "What? I must have passed out or something. This is a hallucination."

"Sorry, but this is the real deal, girl. You checked out. Look, I'm as surprised as you are, I wasn't planning on having to deal with you right now, figured I'd get a pedi or something today. Hence the not-so-together outfit. But I got the call."

Part of her wanted to try to smack some answers out of this woman. Nothing was making sense, and all she had to go on was this woman who was acting like a spoiled college student. The woman walked over and took Faith by the hand and gestured with her head. "Come on, take a look."

She led her through an archway that Faith hadn't noticed before. As they passed through, she found herself standing in the cell back on Pleione, but it was as if time was frozen. The Manei Domini Precentor stood motionless, as did the female Blakist technician. Faith's breath caught in her chest for a moment as she saw her body, strapped to a table with wires and needles attached to her. The blonde woman walked over to the table. "There you go. The girl on the table, that's you, girlfriend. By the way, for being 48, popping a kid out, and kicking ass in a mech for 30 years, you are still rockin' that body. The shaved head thing though, not working for you, stick with the blonde, trust me."

Faith stared down at....herself? It was her, but there was no reasonable explanation for this. She was drawn to the eyes, staring straight ahead, empty, lifeless. "I...I don't understand. I mean, I remember this, the torture, the pain, but....."

The woman stood beside her and wrapped an arm around her shoulder. "Ok, let me fill you in. You got yourself caught by the bad toaster people. Rather than just kill you or throw you into a prison, since you're so badass, they decided they were going to make you a 'reclamation'. Big fancy word, but the short of it is that they break you down, body, mind, and soul, till they're left with one Faith-shaped empty shell. Then they show you some home movies, fill you up with all that 'Third transfer of power' stuff, and voila. They now have one pre-made badass mechwarrior, same as before, only now, you do what they want, go around killing people and speaking in Latin, and you get a little tingly feeling in your girly bits anytime anyone mentions the names Jerome Blake or Conrad Toyama."

It was terrifying, the idea of being turned into one of them. "I won't let them."

The blonde patted her on the back. "Yeah....most people aren't big on that. That's why they made you puke, got you all naked, and tied you to a table and went all Fifty Shades of Blake on you. The idea is to break you so they can fix you up right"

"But wait, if I believe you, and I'm dead, that makes no sense. I can't be a Blake zombie if I'm dead."

"Good....you're starting to catch on. Now see, while these creeps like to think they're perfect, and have clairvoyance from the 'Divine Blake' and all that, they're still just human, and personally, I think the visions just come from passing around the Peace of Blake pipe a little too much, if you catch my drift. Anyhow, they were hitting you with pain, they even injected you with something to increase your body's ability to sense and process sensations. I really don't think that cyber-***** has ever heard of a magic wand, lot of pent up frustration there if you ask me."

Faith glanced over at the frozen, motionless Blakist Precentor. There was a look of almost excitement or glee in her eyes.

"So, at some point along the way, you passed out. The body is smart like that, it figures 'hey, this sucks, Ima go sleep for a bit'. But they wanted to keep going, so they juiced you up with some kind of super-adrenaline kinda stuff. The idea was to push you further than you should go. Only problem with that, is that after a little more, your heart decided to clock out. And so you're here, with me, dead."

"Here? Where is here? Who are you? Am I supposed to believe this is heaven or something? I don't get it."

The woman took her hand once more and led her back into the hallway where they had been before. "Ok, enough of that. The mood in there was a bit of a downer. So, heaven? That's what you come up with? You're not even religious. And besides, do I look like a baby with wings? Ok, so I'm under-dressed, I told you, it was short notice. But just because I don't have armor on, come on, I still look totally badass, don't I?"

Faith shook her head. "So what, you're some kind of Valkyrie or something? Am I supposed to go drink mead in Valhalla? This is rediculous"

The blonde smirked. "Maybe I'm a Valkyrie, maybe I'm just the result of a lack of oxygen to your brain. Doesn't matter. Point is, this is very real. As for Valhalla...the gates are open. Say the word and I can walk you in. I know, technically you didn't fall in battle, hence me being surprised to get the call to come get you, but apparently you're just awesome enough and dying in a Word of Blake torture chamber counts. Don't ask me, I don't make the rules."

Faith glanced down to the end of the hallway, where a set of iron gates loomed. "So that's it? This is what death is like?"

The other woman put her finger on her chin. "Yeah....about that....see, normally this is all cut and dry. Somebody puts a PPC through your cockpit, you're dead, there's no going back, I walk you in there and we get a drink. This....this is a little different. This time you're the one who clocked out. Your ticker is fine, it just decided to stop working. So, you have to choose. We can go get drunk in Space-Rasalhague, or you can get back into the fight. I have to warn you though, you'd be the first person you know in Valhalla, so we'd have to sit at the new kids lunch table."

"This is insane. You're saying I can go back? Just keep on living? But wait, if this is all the way you say it is....why should I go back? They'll just turn me into one of their zombie warriors."

The woman led her over to the wall, and for the first time, Faith noticed that this was not just a hallway, but some kind of crypt. "Maybe, maybe not. You're a badass, girlfriend. I'd fight alongside you. And you only have to keep saying 'no I won't' longer than they can tell you 'yes you will'. And hey, you're here for a reason."

She began looking at the individual tombs set into the wall, and looked at the name. The first marker read "Freyja McCarron 3120-". She moved further down to the next grave. "Temperance McCarron 3085-3136" She continued on, and froze at the next one. It read "Acadia McCarron 3050-3110"

"What the hell is this?"

The woman shrugged in response. "The future is always a blur. You get the choice" She pointed to the next stone. It read "Faith McCarron 3027-"

"Check out, or stay and fight. You get to pick what date gets carved on that one, sister"

It wasn't her time. She couldn't leave everyone behind. She had to keep fighting, had to keep saying no.

"I want to go back."

The woman put her hands on her hips, and smiled. "Ok. I think that's a good call. Just remember, when you need me for real....I'll be here."

*****


Faith sprang back to consciousness with a jolt. The pain had stopped, and she could feel only the residual burning sensation in what felt like every part of her body. Her eyes shot around the room until she spotted Eisheth, with a surprised look on her face. And then at that moment, Faith could not help but laugh, out loud, and uncontrollably.

[Faith McCarron]

Test of Faith - Chapter Seven



Cargo DropShip Big Sally
Pleione System
Word of Blake Protectorate
20 May, 3075



"Feels like they just flipped for final descent." Acadia McCarron laid back on the rickety cot that had served as her bed for the last few weeks of the trip to Pleione. After much wrangling, she and Cat had managed to surreptitiously book passage on a cargo hauler bringing supplies into the system. From the feel of the ride, the spheroid dropship had just flipped it's orientation to begin the final descent to the planet. "I feel naked going in there without a mech."

She glanced over at Cat, who was using one of the pipes that ran through their makeshift quarters to do pull ups. The older woman continued with her set to completion, before dropping down and grabbing a towel to wipe the sweat from her face. "Why do you think I have been working so hard?"

Acadia twirled a lock of her black and sapphire hair through her fingers. "You always work that hard, Aunt Cat."

"Yeah, well I am not as young as some people." While not technically related at all, Acadia had know Cat as Aunt Cat for all of her life. She had befriended her mother way back around the time of the Clan invasion, and while she remained an independent mechwarrior and never part of the unit, she had spent more time around the unit and Acadia's family than away from it in the 25 years since. She had been born a Trueborn Clan warrior, and had somehow ended up in the Inner Sphere since even before the Clan invasion, but Acadia never really found out the whole story of how that came about. She wasn't even sure if her mother knew the whole story. But Cat had been as loyal as anyone to their family, regardless.

"As if. You're in like insane shape, you're what, 50 years old, and you've got a body most girls my age would kill for. I don't think you have to worry about old age any time soon. Being cooked up in a vat did you some good." She laughed playfully.

Cat shot her a wry smile. "We use the term 'decanted' thank you very much. And good genes are only good if you make use of them." Cat walked over and sat down on the edge of the cot beside Acadia. "And you should feel naked without your mech. You have never killed anyone before, have you?"

Acadia frowned. "I've been a mechwarrior since I was 16. I've killed plenty of people," she said it almost defensively.

Cat tilted her head to look at her. "It is nothing to be ashamed of, I might tell you. But that is different. Putting a PPC bolt into someone's cockpit or turning your machine guns on infantry is one thing, but it is another thing entirely to look someone in the eyes and pull the trigger, or plunge a knife into their chest. This is not going to be like any fight you have had before."

Acadia sat up. "I'll do whatever I have to do to save my mom. Whatever I have to."

Cat patted her gently on the thigh. "I know you will. Remember who taught you how to pilot a mech. I have seen you grow up from birth, and I can tell you this will be the greatest challenge of your life. You will need everything life has given you. Your mother's fire, your father's patience, and your own love for your mother."

Nestling herself up close next to Cat, Acadia laid her head on the older woman's shoulder as she sat beside her. "Sounds kind of weird to hear you talk like that."

"I have been in the Inner Sphere for 30 years, Acadia, longer than you have been alive. Times change a person. I am hardly at all like the person I was when I won my trial to become a warrior. I like to think I am a better person for it. Things like friendship and love mean a great deal more to me than they once did. That is why I am here now."

"So....how are we going to get my mom back?" That was the big question. She was fine in the determination department, but less so in the planning department. Something like this was out of her league, and she knew it.

"First, we have to figure out if she is even still alive, and if so, where they are holding her. The best way to figure that out is to try to tap the local resistance cells. If anyone knows if she is alive, they will. But finding them will not be easy. Getting them to tell us will be even harder."

*****

Jezrael City
Pleione
Word of Blake Protectorate
22 June, 3075

If the way to a man's heart was through his stomach, then the way to his secrets was through his bed. Or at least that's what Acadia was telling herself. She and Cat had split up in the capital city to try to increase their odds of making contact with some form of pro-Capellan faction that might have some information on her mother.

It had been harder than she had anticipated. With the planet changing hands from Capellan, to Federated Commonwealth, to Chaos March, to Capellan, and then finally to Word of Blake, all within the last 50 years, there was little loyalty to House Liao left to be found. A sizeable portion of the population it seemed were quite pleased with their new Blakist overlords. The bloody hand of the Word of Blake on their world had meant that most citizens of the planet had thus far been spared the turmoil of the Jihad. And naturally, they wanted to keep it that way.

She had been as discreet as possible in her inquiries, given the time frame they had to work with. She was posing as a University student, which allowed her a great deal of freedom to move across class and geographical boundaries in her search. She had finally gotten some hints about a group of young agitators that was unhappy with Blakist rule, but were remaining out of sight.

And that, in turn, had led her to Paxton Davis. By day, he ran a small shop that distributed textbook files, readers, and other assorted necessities for students of the capital city's main university. By night, there were rumors that he was part of a group that had been collecting surveillance on Blakist facilities, sabotaged Blakist equipment, and otherwise made a nuissance of themselves. Cat had insisted that they not reveal themselves for who they really were, and so Acadia had to use subterfuge to get close to Davis.

It had helped that he was young and deliciously attractive, in the roguish sort of way that tickled her fancy. And that was how she found herself that night, in his apartment, in his bed.

"What is that noise?" There was a soft hum in the background that she had heard before in his apartment, but it never seemed to be coming from anywhere in particular.

"You get that on the higher floors here when the winds are high. Something about the sand of the big desert that gives that resonance. I forgot you're not from around here. When you grow up on Pleione, you learn to kind of tune it out."

She moved slightly to get more comfortable, laying against his chest. "Ugh, I wish I could tune out the hangover that I'm probably going to have in the morning."

He started to move, "I've got some oxy-pills around somewhere if you want to pop a few to try to ward it off.

She pushed him back down onto the bed. "Oh no, mister, you're not going anywhere. I'll risk the hangover."

Suddenly, the door opened and someone hit the light switch. "Hey Pax, sorry if I woke you, there's a storm outside and I figured I'd crash for....." the woman's voice trailed off as she took in the surroundings. Acadia instinctively grabbed a handful of the bedsheets to cover herself as she tried to adjust to the sudden bright light. The woman started again, "Paxton, what is SHE doing in here?"

Paxton jumped out of bed and fumbled quickly to put on a pair of shorts. "Look, this is not what it seems. I mean....it is what it seems, but it's not a big deal...no Rachel don't give me that look." He ran his hands through his hair furiously in frustration, then turned to Acadia. "Just...just give me 2 minutes, I promise." He turned to the other woman, a brunette who looked as if she were about to spit venom at him. "You, out in the kitchen, now." He closed the door behind him, leaving Acadia sitting there quizzically.

She could hear shouting outside the bedroom, but couldn't make out the words. She had no idea what to make of the situation. Had she just been discovered by a wife or girlfriend? If so, that would probably blow any chance of getting any information out of Paxton. She punched the mattress. After a few minutes of listening to the muffled arguing, she rolled out of the bed and slipped her underwear back on, and started pacing.

A few minutes later, the door opened, and Paxton reappeared. "Look, I'm sorry. I...I don't think there could be a worse case of timing, I'm sorry for that. Gimme a chance to explain?"

"Look, if I'm causing a problem, I can just go, it's ok."

"No. Please stay. And it's not what you think. Rachel is just a friend."

Acadia threw him a skeptical glance. "Just friends don't get that mad when they find you in bed with a girl. They laugh it off. Or join in. But they don't get that mad."

Paxton rubbed his hands over his face. "Uh.....I don't know where to start...." He walked over to a large plush chair that stood in the corner of the room and sat down. "Come over here and sit with me?"

She hesitated for a moment, then relented, making her way over to him and sitting beside him. He gently pulled her closer. "What do you think of Word of Blake?" Her heart began to race. This was it, he might be opening up. This was her chance, and she didn't want to blow it. She had never remotely trained for anything like this.

"I think ComStar was a bit crazy. And all the crazies in ComStar left and joined the Word of Blake, and doubled down on the crazy. But they're just the government. Why?"

He paused before answering her. He was clearly nervous, maybe even more nervous than she was. "Not everyone on this planet just blindly accepts the Blakists as our masters. I know it seems like everything is fine and all, but there's a whole huge war going on there. And the Blakists......I just don't think the Inner Sphere would be a very good place if they win."

That was possibly the understatement of the century. The Jihad had already killed billions, and turned the clock back on the Inner Sphere for untold decades. "That's true. But what can anybody do about it?"

"We can stand up to them. I mean, it may not seem like much, but if everyone stood up to them...maybe the Inner Sphere would have a chance. You know? I mean, I'm not saying that life under the Confederation was perfect or anything. But these guys are crazy."

She nodded. "I still don't get what that has to do with that girl going crazy though."

He took a deep breath, "Some of us are standing up to them. It's not much, but we do what we can. We try to do our part. Of course if the robes find out you're working against them, well, it tends not to end well. Rachel just....isn't very trusting. She's worried about the operation being exposed, the more people we have hanging around, the riskier it gets, you know, that kind of thing. She just kind of freaked, that's all."

Acadia did her best to feign ignorance, in spite of the fact that she already knew most of what he was telling her. "Wow. I mean, that's a huge risk, and I can see why anyone would be jumpy."

He nodded and stood up, walking over to the window and peering out for a moment. "We've had setbecks. The Wobbies are good at turning anyone they capture. Sometimes a whole cell disappears in one night. Hell, we even had one case where they captured someone and brainwashed him into becoming a suicide bomber, took out most of his group at the next meeting when he blew himself up. It's nuts. But it's relaxed a little bit lately, the robes are pretty pleased with themselves at the moment."

"Why's that? Things going well for them on the outside?"

He shrugged. "No idea about that, news from the outside is sketchy. All the media channels are carefully watched, so you only get what they want you to hear. But no, there was a CapCon raid a little while back, and the Blakists turned it back pretty hard. We tried to get in touch with the raiding party, but they weren't on planet long enough. Toasters pushed them back quick, even sent in some of their cyborg crazy warriors. Cappies never got close to their objectives. The toasters would have wiped them all out, but one of the Cappie officers made a suicide stand to hold them off while the rest got away"

Acadia's heart was in her throat. She certainly didn't like the sound of "suicide stand." There was no way that after all their efforts, that it was possible that her mother had never even survived the fight. She collected her thoughts quickly. "Wow. He must have been a pretty brave warrior to die for his friends like that."

"She, it was a woman. Cute little blonde. And she survived, they pried her out of her mech. We were watching from a couple of klicks away trying to make contact at the time. Probably wishes she had died though, God only knows what they're doing to her up in the Fortress."

Acadia felt like she had been kicked in the gut. Part of her wanted to jump for joy knowing that indeed, her mom had survived. But the realistic part of her thought about Pax's words. What, indeed, were they doing to her right now, only kilometers away?

"Hey, you ok? You look like you're about to pass out." He was looking intently at her. She scrambled to regain her composure.

"What? Oh, um..yeah. Fine. It's just a shame to think about. I mean, I hope she's ok and all."

Paxton sighed. "Nobody that falls into their hands is ok. Nobody"

[Faith McCarron]

Test of Faith - Chapter Eight

Fortress Thunder Rock
Pleione
Word of Blake Protectorate
22 June, 3075



"Stay tight or they will cut us to pieces.....get me target info!!.....too much ECM they must be mounting Angels, my C3i is just static.....just focus on the Grasshopper, Blake's Blood it's fighting like it's possessed, damned Liaos..."

For a few minutes, Faith was aware of hearing the comm chatter, but it was almost surreal. Finally, she opened her eyes, and she could see she was in the cockpit of a mech. No, not in a cockpit, something was off. The image pixelated for a moment, then resumed, but it was enough for her to get her bearings. She was in her cell, but an image was being projected on the walls all around her. From the look of it, it was battleROM footage.

"I've got it. You're mine now, heretic!"

The mech she was spectating moved around a rock, and a Grasshopper, painted in bronze and gold, came into view. Faith recognized it immediate, it was hers. The pilot lined up a shot, but a Mongoose darted into the line of fire and got off a quick shot at the Grasshopper first. With almost superhuman ease, the Grasshopper pivoted and savaged the Mongoose with a flurry of pulse laser fire, and the smaller machine seemed to almost wither away under the barage.

"Enough of this, heretic, you are mine! This ends here!" the voice faith heard was female, but she didn't recognize it. The mech fired two PPC blasts, one missing, the other hitting her Grasshopper as the Blakist mech charged in, trying to close the distance. It was a foolish mistake, for the closer it got, the more effective Faith's pulse lasers were going to be. Indeed, she watched as her Grasshopper twisted to spread the fire from the charging Blakist machine, then returned fire, once, twice, then as the Word machine got even closer, a third time, this time tearing a leg from the mech whose gun camera footage she was watching.

"Off our soil, heretic!!!! Ugh....Blake's Will......AHHHHHHHH" The enemy mech had raised it's arm, about to get a shot off from it's knees, but before it could, the pilot's screams were cut off as the fist of Faith's Grasshopper smashed into the cockpit. The image died in a wave of static, along with the female mechwarrior's scream.

Then the loop began again. "No, stop, I don't need to see it again" Faith said. But there was nobody in the room with her, just the footage playing out over her cell wall. Over and over again, she watched the short battle unfold. Over and over, she watched her mech's fist crush the Blakist into scrap. Over and over again, she heard the enemy pilot's death scream.

She had no idea how many times she watched the loop play. After a while, one viewing simply blended into the next. It seemed like hours passed, and she could do nothing, arms suspended over her head, but watch the battle over and over again.

Then, almost mercifully, it stopped, the image frozen in place viewing the metal fist of her Grasshopper. She heard the door open behind her, and footfalls approach.

"You are quite the skilled pilot, Faith," Eisheth said softly into her right ear as she stood behind Faith. "Interesting to see your work from the other point of view, isn't it?" The Blakist precentor walked around to stand in front of her, her eyes glowing a soft green. "I noticed something about you. You seem to take great comfort in the righteousness of your cause, don't you? You are the hero, we are the monsters, it makes it all so neat, doesn't it?"

"You are the monsters," Faith replied. "You are the ones who started this. You are the ones killing millions on a blind prayer, not us. Not me."

"I wonder...." Eisheth took a few steps back. She reached out her left arm, as if welcoming someone, and the door opened behind Faith again. Someone walked past her and over to where the Manei Domini stood. It was a young boy, only a young teenager from the look of it.

"Let me introduce you to someone. This is Charles Flannery. He is 13 years old. The gun camera footage you just saw was from the cockpit of the late Adept Elaine Flannery, Charles' mother."

Faith hesitantly looked at the boy, who was looking her up and down, trying to take it all in. Eisheth continued. "Allow me to share a little of Charles' story. He moved here 4 years ago when his mother was stationed here to protect the planet from further attacks such as those it suffered when it was part of the Chaos March. His father died in an accident when he was only three. His mother served our order faithfully for most of her life. That is, until she was killed in battle." She turned to the boy. "Charles, allow me to introduce you. This is Faith McCarron, the Capellan mechwarrior who killed your mother."

Faith could now see the anger and hate in the boy's eyes. And could she really blame him?

"So tell me, who is the monster now, Faith? Who is the one who came to this peaceful planet, that was no threat to the Confederation or your beloved Chancellor, and stole this child's mother from him? Tell me, how would you feel if this were you? Or if it were you're sweet, beloved daughter?"

Faith said nothing, her eyes shifting back and forth between the boy, who's eyes were filled with pain and anger, and Eisheth, who's eyes were seemingly devoid of any emotion at all, cold, mechanical.

"Nothing to say? Well, one of the pillars of Blake's wisdom is justice, so today, we shall attempt to ease this poor boy's pain." She pulled something from inside her robe. It's handle was perhaps a foot long, and several cords of approximately equal length hung from the top of it. At the end of each cord was a small silver ball, perhaps half an inch in diameter. "This is a variation on the neural whip." She handed it to the boy. "When the bulbs touch human flesh, they deliver varying amounts of pain. The harder the force you apply, the greater the pain. There is your mother's killer, Charles, bound and helpless. You can apply as much pain anywhere you wish. I give her to you to release your pain and anger upon."

Faith looked at the boy, and all she could see was anger. He stood there for a moment, before Eisheth patted him on the back. "It's ok, she cannot hurt you. This is your time for justice."

The boy walked closer, looking Faith in the eyes. Then he swung. The whip struck her in the abdomen, and pain rocked through her body. Her brain told her body to writhe in pain, but her muscles by now barely had the strength to move. He struck her several more times, each time the severity increasing. He walked around behind and and began hitting her with even greater force. As he did, the battleROM image began playing again, looping over and over as the young boy vented his pain and anger upon his mother's killer.

He returned to stand in front of her, staring into her eyes, striking her in the chest repeatedly, from the left, then the right, over and over. As the video playing in the background reached the point of his mother's final death screams, he pulled back with all his might and smashed the whip across Faith's face, rocking her head to the side. Her entire face felt like it was going to explode in pain and agony. She tasted blood. The video had reset again but she still heard the woman's screams in her mind.

"Stop!!!! Stop!!!! I'm sorry!!!! I'm sorry. I'm so sorry" She half screamed, half sobbed the words. She couldn't take any more of it.

Eisheth reached out and stayed the boy's hand. "There, that is enough. She has repented, child." She took the whip from the boy, and walked him to the door, before returning to Faith. She reached up and released Faith's bonds, letting her down, and Faith collapsed into a sobbing heap on the floor. The Blakist sat down on the floor and cradled Faith's head in her lap, gently stroking her cheek.

"You are close now, so very close. Enlightenment is on the horizon for you now."

Edited by Faith McCarron, 14 May 2015 - 12:23 AM.

[Faith McCarron]

Test of Faith - Chapter Nine

Jezrael City
Pleione
Word of Blake Protectorate
23 June, 3075



Acadia burst through the door of the rather ramshackle apartment that she and Cat had been operating out of. She smacked the light switch and ran into the room.

"Cat, she's alive! They've got her at Thunder Rock!"

The response was a throw pillow flying in her general direction from the other side of the room. "Stravag! You better have brought me some coffee, girl." Cat poked her head out from under a blanket and stared annoyingly at Acadia.

"Sorry, no coffee. I didn't have time. I came straight here as soon as I woke up. Cat, She's alive! We can get her out now."

The older woman slowly climbed out from under the blanket and stood up. "Calm down. You need to tell me details. We can start planning now, we cannot rush into things. Now, how did you find out?"

Acadia went over to the coffee maker and started to get it ready to brew a pot. "Ok, so this girl burst into Paxton's place last night all pissed off that I was there. Turns out she's a member of the resistance cell he runs, and she was worried I would find out about them. Well anyway, they argued, and he got all cute and apologized to me, and then he started to tell me all about how he's trying to do his part about the Word of Blake and all. Well, in the conversation, it came up that the Blakists have been a little more relaxed lately because they're kinda pleased with themselves. Why, you might ask? Because they captured a CapCon officer in the last raid. It's her, it has to be, the description fits her and all. They pulled her out of her mech and took her to the fortress. I knew she was alive!"

Cat walked up beside her and put a hand on her back. "Alright. But calm down. That was the easy part. Now we have to focus on getting her out. That is the nearly impossible part."

Acadia turned to face Cat. "I know you too well Cat, don't you have a plan?"

Cat sighed. "Yes, I have a plan. I have been thinking about this the whole time. I can only think of one way to get her out, and I am loathe to do it."

Picking up a dish towel, Acadia wiped out two mugs and set them on the counter beside the coffee maker. "Why?"

Cat collected her thoughts for a moment. "We know she is in the Thunder Rock facility. Now, I can most likely infiltrate the place given proper planning. But I will not be able to remain undetected for long. We have no idea where she is in the fortress, and I cannot very well just go around opening up doors looking for her, it would take forever. The only way I know to find out precisely where in the facility she is, is to let the Blakists show us."

Acadia listened eagerly. "Ok, great, and how do we get them to do that?"

The older woman frowned. "We let them capture you. If we get a tracker on you somehow, and let them capture you, it is too good of an opportunity, they would have to bring you two together. Then, I spring the two of you free. It is the only way I can come up with of locating her. And it is too risky for you."

"Bull! I'll do it. When do we start?"

Cat reached out and put her arm on Acadia's shoulder. "It is not that simple. This is a one time shot. No rehearsal, no margin for error. If you go in and I fail in the rescue attempt, you are in their clutches forever."

"It's my mom, Cat. I'd risk my life for her in an instant."

Cat turned and leaned back against the counter. "I know you would. And so would I. But would she want it? And do not be so quick to accept risks you do not understand. They will not simply kill you, they will do to you what they are doing to her. They will try to break you completely. If I fail and end up simply turning you over to them, what will she think then?"

Acadia walked over and wrapped her arms around Cat. "Cat, we are here. They're destroying her. We can save her. This is what we came for, we have to. I can take a chance and risk living with the consequences. I can't live with giving up."

She felt Cat pat her on the head. "Alright. I promise I will do everything in my power to validate your trust. Now, we will have to get some equipment, and we will have to train you. You cannot simply walk up to an HPG station and turn yourself in. This must be believable. They must catch you in a rescue attempt. We have very little time, and you have much to learn. If you thought I was a harsh instructor when I taught you to pilot a mech, that will pale in comparison to this."

[Faith McCarron]

Test of Faith - Chapter Ten

Fortress Thunder Rock
Pleione
Word of Blake Protectorate
23 June, 3075



Faith had no idea how much time passed as she drifted off to sleep and woke from terrifying nightmares in a seemingly endless cycle. When she would wake, she was cold, shivering to the point nearly of convulsions. But she was too weak to move, and she would drift off to sleep again. When she did, she was haunted by nightmares. In some, she was just a child. In some she was trapped.

And in all of them, she constantly heard the screams of Adept Elaine Flannery. She had killed before, more times than she could count. But never had she been haunted by her victim in such a way. It was almost surreal, and she would do anything to make it stop.

She blinked back to the waking world as arms lifted her partially off of the cold ferrocrete floor. She felt a hand take her by the chin, and found herself staring into the cool blue burning eyes of Eisheth. "Good morning, Faith. I trust your time of rest was well used in contemplation. I told you before that you were close, very close. Now, I think you are ready to hear the Master's wisdom. We will make it as easy as possible for you, we will block out the world so that you can hear and feel only the Word of Blake. You are there, you are ready."

She nodded to the guards, who picked her up and carried her out of the cell. Her head hung low and she could only see the passing floor. Only her feet dragged on the ground as they meandered through what seemed like endless corridors. Finally, they passed through a door, and the floor suddenly was metal grating. She felt her hands raised above her head and her hands shackled once again, as the secured her to some kind of hook or pole hanging from the ceiling. She was low enough that she could stand, but her legs were too weak and her knees gave out, leaving her dangling with her feet on the floor.

She tried to make out her surroundings, but all she could see was dim blue light all around her. She heard a hissing sound, and suddenly she was pounded from seemingly all sides by powerful jets of not quite scalding water. It went on for several minutes, and she could not keep her eyes open against the deluge. She imagined feeling a blow here, a sting there, recollections of past pain haunting her almost surreally in the streams of water.

And then it stopped. She could finally open her eyes, and for several minutes she hung there in virtual silence, only hearing the occasional soft drip of a drop of water hitting the grating beneath her feet. The guards returned, and dragged her into another room.

They carried her over to where Eisheth and several technicians stood next to a small pod. It was lit inside, half filled with some kind of liquid. Just above the opening was a thin metal slab, just long enough and wide enough to lay a person on. One guard held under her arms and the other took her by the feet, and they laid her gently onto the slab. The techs quickly attached small sensor pads to her thighs, abdomen, chest, and temples. One of the techs inserted a needle into her right arm, connected by a tube to the top of the pod.

Eisheth leaned over her. "Relax now. Prepare to be reborn. When you have emerged again, with the understanding of Blake's Will and of the importance of the Third Transfer of Power and it's salvation for humanity, then, then you will be ready to be augmented by the wonders of technology, reclaimed into the light of knowledge, and become my sister Manei Domini in service to the Master."

The platform that was holding her above the liquid slowly descended, lowering her into what turned out to be an almost gel-like substance. Soon the support had dipped lower, until she lay floating just barely at the top of the liquid. The lid to the pod closed down on her, and sealed shut with a hiss. And then there was nothing. She was conscious and aware, but she could see nothing, feel nothing, and hear nothing. It was like floating weightless.

Then suddenly, from nowhere and from everywhere, she heard a voice. It was a man's voice, but in it also rang the coldness of a machine.

Blessed be Blake. Blessed be his holy name.
Blessed be Toyama, true man and saint.
Blessed be Terra, cradle of man.
Blessed be technology, works of man.
Blessed be the Hands, protectors of Terra.
Blessed be Apollyon, keeper of the path.
Blessed be the Master, Master of the Sacred Order.

[Faith McCarron]

Test of Faith - Chapter Eleven

Jezrael City
Pleione
Word of Blake Protectorate
27 July, 3075


Acadia pressed her hands down firmly on Paxton's chest and closed her eyes as she let her breathing slow, still straddling him. She could both feel his chest rising with each breath, and feel his still rapid heartbeat in his chest.

"Not that I'm complaining, but what's gotten into you tonight, anyway, Acadia?" he half chuckled as he spoke. She had dropped in unannounced shortly after sundown, and their lovemaking had commenced almost immediately. Pleione's single large moon was now well overhead in the sky outside the apartment.

She slowly slid off of him, then dropped onto her back beside him. She took a moment before speaking. "I'm leaving after tonight, Pax."

He rolled over onto his side and stared at her. "What? What are you talking about?"

She stared straight up at the ceiling, barely lit by the moonlight shining in the window. "Just what I said. You won't see me again after tonight."

"Is this some kind of joke?"

She ran her hands over her face, letting her fingers run through her hair as she let out a long sigh. After a moment, he rolled further over, swinging one leg over her so he sat astride her, as he gently took her hands in his. "Say something?"

She closed her eyes as she let out her next words. "I haven't been honest with you." His grip loosened, but he did not let go. She opened her eyes to see him staring down at her, confused. "I'm not a student studying here, I'm a mechwarrior in the CCAF. My name isn't Acadia McClellan, it's Acadia McCarron. The Capellan officer you saw the Word capture, her name is Faith McCarron, and she's my mother."

Now it was his turn to fall silent. He slowly let go of her hands and rolled over on the bed. She quickly rolled to face him, and put a hand on his cheek. "I'm sorry I couldn't tell you the truth before. I probably shouldn't even be telling you now, but I couldn't just take off and not say something."

He reached up and took her hand. "So tell me, were you just getting close to me to see what I knew, or what?"

She shook her head. "No, I mean....at first.... Pax she's my mother, I had to do everything I could. But we've spent so much time together, and that doesn't make it any less real. I mean, after a while, I realized....I just...am I making any sense at all? Please say yes."

He pulled her close to him. "Yeah, I understand. I just wish you had said something. I mean, I could have helped, I can still help."

She put a finger to his lips to quiet him. "No. We have a plan, and it's my risk to take."

"Wait a minute, you don't mean....you're going to try to break her out of there yourself? That's crazy, that's a suicide mission."

She nestled her head deep into his chest. "I can do it. I have to do it."

He sighed heavily. "Why now? If you wait, we can maybe come up with a plan and help you."

She lifted her head up and looked into his eyes. "No, it has to be now. Listen to me. Last night, a CCAF task force jumped in system. That means they'll be here tomorrow night. I have to have her out by then."

His eyes lit up. "A task force? So they're finally here to kick the Wobbies out?"

Her head sank for a moment. Then she lifted it again and stared at him with a renewed fire in her green eyes. "No, and that's why you have to listen to me, why I couldn't leave without talking to you. You have to get out of the city and away from any possible Blakist presence."

"I don't understand"

She bit her lip. "They're not here to liberate the planet. They're here to bombard the hell out of the Blakists. They're going to hit the fortress and any other Blakist forces they can with god knows what. Orbital bombardment, maybe even nukes, I don't know."

"There has to be something I can do to help you."

She kissed him gently on the forehead. "I have to go in a couple of hours. Just hold me till then."

[Faith McCarron]

Test of Faith - Chapter Twelve

Jezrael Desert
Pleione
Word of Blake Protectorate
28 July, 3075




It was show time. They had no choice but to succeed now. If they failed, they would end up in Blakist hands, or vaporized in a nuclear mushroom cloud. They had practiced and trained for weeks. There was nothing left but to do it. It was mostly silence as Cat drove the vehicle through the desert to the step off point.

"You seem unusually quiet and preoccupied. Is everything alright?" Cat asked Acadia. It was true, normally the young woman was a chatterbox before something big. Now, she seemed to say very little.

"Yeah." she responded, staring out the window into the blackness of the night desert.

"You must not lose your focus. Keep the plan in your mind. This will work." Cat wasn't sure if she was saying it more to reassure her young charge, or to reassure herself.

A few more moments of silence passed. "I told Paxton the truth."

Cat smacked the steering wheel with the palm of her hand. "Stravag, child. You did what?! Why did you do that?"

"I know you said to trust nobody, but he's clean, I know he is. And I didn't want him near the city when the bombardment hits."

Cat virtually growled in frustration. "You told him that as well? About the attack plans? Blake's Blood, child. You need to get a handle on yourself. Just because you are coupling with some boy does not mean that you must pour your heart out to him. At it certainly does not mean you can pour your brain out to him. What if he tells someone? Or what if he is as emotionally reckless as you and tries to do something, and gets captured and THEN tells something."

"He won't. I know he won't. And I'm sorry, but I just did what I had to. And besides, I don't give you hell for your sex life, no matter how weird it is."

Cat smiled and playfully slapped Acadia on the leg. "I do not discuss secret plans with my coupling partners."

"As if. Besides, you probably only bang people with higher clearance than you have anyway." At the very least the mood had lightened, even if Cat was furious inside with Acadia's recklessness. After a few more minutes, they were at the starting point. Fortress Thunder Rock loomed above them.

"We are here." Cat stated the obvious. They each got out of the vehicle. Cat put a hand on each of Acadia's shoulders. "Remember everything we have gone over. Get as far inside as you can, but once they discover you, make sure your face is picked up by as many of their cameras as you can. Swallow the transmitter the instant you make contact with your mother. And then for Kerensky's sake, keep yourself safe for as long as you can. Buy me as much time as you can. Right?"

Acadia nodded. "Thank you aunt Cat. For everything. See you soon." And with that, she turned and sprinted off into the night.

Do not thank me until this is over. If I fail here, you are both lost.

*****

Acadia got through the outer wall with relative ease. Even at night, there were so many vehicles entering and leaving the facility that one small person slipping in went unnoticed. She crept deeper into the facility methodically, working her way through mostly dark and deserted areas. Her first test would not come until she reached the first door that required an ID badge to open the lock.

At a busier time of day, it might have been more difficult, but she was entering through an area used primarily for shipping and receiving. The Blakists had no doubt detected the Capellan task force and were on high alert, but their attention would be far from the food and supply delivery areas. She waited until a robed adept approached the door and swiped his badge, then she slipped quietly in behind him before the door closed.

She worked her way deeper into the compound, staying in shadows, corners, behind equipment. Just as she had practiced. Cat was confident enough that Blakist security would catch Acadia naturally that she had discouraged her from attempting any obvious blunders in order to get caught. Everything had to appear natural.

Though her heart was racing, part of her felt like a child again, sneaking around the 4TCR barracks or Castle McCarron late at night when she was supposed to be sleeping. A few times she had crept into the command center unnoticed, and watched the boring, mundane activities of a functioning military unit. But that all seemed so long ago now.

She started to move from one shadowy corner towards the detention area, but suddenly a pair of robed Adepts turned the corner, carrying some paperwork. She immediately retreated, trying to duck back into the shadowy corner where she had started, but as she did, a door opened and light from inside an office bathed the hallway in light.

"Intruder! Alert security!" She didn't know which Blakist had called out the alarm, and she didn't care. She sprinted towards the two Adepts she had first seen, and barreled through them, knocking them both to the ground. As she ran down the corridor from which they had just come, she noticed the dome of a security camera covering the area, precisely what she wanted.

A second later, a loud alarm klaxon began sounding. It was only a matter of seconds before she encountered resistance, but in that time, she noted at least two more cameras observing her. The idea was that with an intruder in the building and alerts sounded, the head Manei Domini would have to be aware of the breach of security, and it would not take one of the Blakist super-soldiers long to determine Acadia's identity. That's what they were counting on.

She turned yet another corner and stumbled onto two security guards. They raised their weapons hastily, just as she drew her own pistol. They exchanged quick shots, before Acadia darted back behind the corner. She pressed herself against the wall and stopped to catch her breath. Too late, she noticed something out of the corner of her eye, and as she turned, a bolt from a stun gun slammed into her side. She shook violently, and fell to the ground.

Blakist guards were on her in seconds, cuffing her hands behind her back and shouting, both commands at her and questions into their comm units. She screamed at them, "Let me go you toaster worshiping pigs! Let me go! You're all going to die!"

It took a sparse few minutes before the guards lifted her off the ground, hands still cuffed behind her back, and began roughly marching her toward the detention area. The led her down several corridors, and through a few checkpoints without so much as stopping. She had obviously been fast tracked for something.

Finally, they arrived at a door, and as it opened, they shoved her through the opening. She emerged in a small room, with only a metal chair in the middle. The room was empty except for a woman wearing white Word of Blake robes standing on the far side of the room looking at her. The woman's eyes shone a sapphire blue, almost mimicking the color of the accented streaks in Acadia's hair. Acadia stared back at her with as much courage and anger as she could muster.

The woman walked closer to her, looking her up and down as she circled her, coming to a stop in front of her. Then Eisheth laughed. "This is it? This scrawny little runt is the daughter of Faith McCarron? Pathetic."

Acadia spat at her, "Sorry to disappoint. I didn't do my makeup today."

Eisheth took a step closer and stared into her eyes. "My dear little girl, there isn't enough makeup in the world to make you into even a pale imitation of your mother. I have gotten to know you mother intimately over these last months, and I have found she is very strong in spirit, a true warrior. You on the other hand....you can only muster this clumsy attempt?"

"We'll see how clumsy I am when I kill you! Take these cuffs off and I'll show you some spirit." She was mustering up all the bravado she could. Deep down, she was truly terrified of this woman, this monster that stood before her.

"Ha. By all means, I look forward to this." The precentor pulled a knife from her robe and walked behind Acadia, slicing off the plastic zip cuffs before sheathing the knife and returning to stand in front of Acadia. "There, you are unbound. Hit me, little girl."

Acadia was beyond confused now. She hadn't expected that turn of events. After a second to recover, she lashed out with a punch towards the woman's face. The Manei Domini brushed aside the blow with her left hand, and with almost superhuman speed and strength, reached out with her right hand, grabbing Acadia by the throat and lifting her off her feet, slamming her into the wall. She pinned her there and pressed her face close to Acadia's.

"You pathetic, little girl," she laughed. "You are a frail, and an exceptionally frail one at that. You are hardly worth my time. In fact, if not for who your mother is, I would crush your neck right now and dispose of you without wasting another second. The only difficulty I am having is deciding which will bring me the greatest pleasure and reward. Should I simply kill you, slowly, painfully, agonizingly in front of your mother to break the last remnants of her will? Or should I break you and turn you to the Master's will and let her see me have you as a pet? Your mother has survived months of pain, agony, and humiliation and only now is she beginning to break. I could break you, frail thing, and have you worshiping me as a goddess in barely an hour."

The door opened, and Eisheth let Acadia drop to the floor. "Ah, look who has arrived, fresh from the sensory deprivation tank."

Acadia gasped audibly as she saw the guards dragging her mother in. Almost as an afterthought, she popped loose the small transmitter strapped to the roof of her mouth, but down on the casing, and swallowed it. She barely recognized her mother, naked, her head bare, face gaunt. Her body was emaciated and weak. The guards dumped her unceremoniously on the ground, as if she was garbage, and then left. Acadia started to run to her, but Eisheth grabbed her by the back of the neck and forced her to her knees. "You are going nowhere, pet." she hissed. Then calmly, in an almost soft voice, she called out "Faith. Faith, you must wake up. I have a special visitor here for you."

After a short while, Faith started to move, lifting herself up with her arms and blinking as if dazed. Acadia wanted to cry. The fire was gone from her mother's eyes. After a few seconds, Faith's gaze shifted from Eisheth to Acadia. "No. No, this is a trick. This isn't real. This cannot be real." Her voice was weak and strained.

Eisheth smiled. "Oh, my dear Faith, it is quite real. This is, indeed, your lovely daughter. She came here to try to save you. And, I suppose, in a way, she will. Once I turn her to Blake's will, she can help to bring you the last few steps of the way."

As the monster spoke her words, Acadia watched as the life and the fire returned to Faith's eyes. Slowly, clumsily, but steadily, she managed to stand up and stumble a few steps towards them. When she spoke, there was an anger in her voice that Acadia had never in her life heard. "No. No! You cannot have her. So long as I am alive you will not have her!" Faith stumbled closer, as if she was going to attack the Blakist with what feeble strength she had left. When she got within arm's length, Eisheth slapped her across the face, and she slumped to the ground motionless.

"No! You b*tch!!!!" Acadia wrested herself free of the Precentor's grip and began pummeling her with blows, most of which seemed to be innefectual. Eisheth grabbed her by the throat and pinned her to the ground.

"I am growing very tired of you. Perhaps you are more trouble than you are worth."

Though she kicked and struggled, Acadia could not free herself. "Go choke yourself on Toyama's --" She was cut off as Eisheth squeezed harder. Just then, she heard the door open.

"I told you we were not to be dis-" gunshots rang out, echoing harshly in the confined space of the room. Acadia felt the pressure on her throat release as two bullets tore into Eisheth's shoulder. The Blakist cyber-warrior spun away bounded to her feet. Acadia saw Cat's black clad form sprinting across the room, pistols in both hands, trying to get a bead on Eisheth.

With almost insane speed, the red-haired Blakist lunged at Cat, knocking the guns from her hand and allowing her weight to follow through as the two smashed to the ground. As each scrambled to their feet, Eisheth drew her knife in a swift motion and slashed, slicing through the material of Cat's jumpsuit and opening a gash across her left arm. Almost simultaneously, Cat delivered a blow square to Eisheth's jaw with her right fist, sending the Blakist reeling for a second.

It was all Cat needed, as she lunged and engaged Eisheth again. The two grappled in a fight that seemed almost choreographed, each blocking and countering, where one scored a blow the other retaliated in kind. Never in all her years had Acadia seen Cat so fierce as now. Time seemed to freeze as she went toe-to-toe with the augmented Blakist warrior. It was the battle that the two were made for, Cat having been bred for war from the best that the Star League had to offer, and Eisheth, a human blended with technology for the purpose of exterminating the children of Kerensky.

And then, in an instant, it seemed to reach it's end. Cat misjudged a blow, and Eisheth pounced, knocking the older woman's right leg from beneath her and sending her sprawling onto her back. The Blakist poised over her with a death blow, her eyes burning a bright red. Acadia had never seen such hatred and rage in someone's eyes.

And then Acadia squeezed the trigger. The round struck Eisheth just above the right eye. The Manei Domini spun around and backwards, landing face down on the ferrocrete floor. Acadia didn't even remember picking up the gun, which must have been knocked from Cat's hand. She didn't remember lining up the shot. She only remembered the burning hatred in the Blakist's eyes, and squeezing the trigger.

Cat lay on her back, her chest heaving up and down trying to catch her breath. Acadia sat motionless on the floor, the pistol in her hand, her face blank. Only a few seconds passed, but it seemed like lifetimes. Almost in unison, both regained their wits, and scrambled over to where Faith lay slumped on the floor. Cat spun her over and checked for a pulse.

"She is alive. We have to hurry out of here. Get something to cover her with." Acadia ran over to the body of the fallen Blakist monster. She pulled the white, but blood spattered robe off of the lifeless woman's body, pausing for a moment to look into her mechanical eyes. She was dead. Whatever monster inhabited those eyes was gone forever.

She ran back over to Cat, and the two of them wrapped the still unconscious Faith in the Blakist robe. Just then, the ground shook beneath them. It was a subtle rumble, but it could be felt nonetheless. "The bombardment has started. We have to hurry!"

The only upside to the fact that the Capellan flotilla was beginning to pulverize parts of the planet surface was that the Blakists inside now had many other things to deal with. It allowed them to move quickly through the facility, past more Blakist bodies than Acadia could even fathom how Cat had dealt with. Before long, they had reached the perimeter.

The night sky was ablaze with light, a terrible rain of death from the heavens as the Capellan warships blasted Word installations from orbit. "How are we going to reach our extraction point?" She asked Cat.

"Never mind that. How are we going to get far enough away from this place before they hit it?" she replied. At that moment, a figure brandishing an assault rifle popped from cover behind a rock outcropping a few meters away.

"You ladies need a lift? C'mon!" It was Paxton.

[Faith McCarron]

Test of Faith - Epilogue

CCS Ilsa Hyung
Styk System
Capellan Confederation
1 August, 3075



Faith was awake, but did not open her eyes. She had already woken up several times before, and she started to find that waking up to look at the clock only served to make time pass more slowly as she lay in bed in the medical bay of the Capellan Warship Ilsa Hyung. She knew that Acadia was there watching, but she did not move or give any sign that she knew. She just lay back and relaxed. After a few minutes, she heard Acadia turn and begin to leave.

"Not so fast, kiddo," her voice was still somewhat weak, but it had improved. She opened her eyes in time to see her daughter turn and return to her bedside, taking hold of her left hand.

"Hey mom, how are you doing?"

Faith grimaced. "I think somehow every part of my body hurts right now, all at once. But I'll survive. How are you?"

Her daughter smiled. "Fine. We're still about 12 hours from the next jump. At least a couple weeks from Sian."

She squeezed her hand. "It will be good to get back to everyone." Acadia looked down as Faith mentioned returning. "You are mad at your father, arent you?"

The younger woman pursed her lips. "No."

Faith sighed. "Not only are you a lousy liar kiddo, but remember who you're talking to here. I was the queen of being pissed off at your age." She paused for a moment. "You should cut him some slack."

Acadia tensed. "Why? Why the hell shouldn't I be mad at him?! He was going to do nothing, he was just going to leave you to whatever those crazies wanted to do to you. He didn't even give a damn."

At that point, Faith cut her daughter off. "Knock it off. Your father and I have been fighting beside one another longer than you have been alive. Don't tell me he didn't give a damn, because I know him better than that. And you, for someone who did such a selfless thing, risking it all, you are being damned selfish when it comes to your father."

Acadia gave a huff in response. "Selfish? How do you figure that one?"

"Your dad and I are the best of friends. We have been through hell and back together. Don't you think for one second that he didn't want to come after me, that it wasn't tearing him up that he couldn't. But he couldn't. Sometimes it's about more than one person. It's about the unit, and the people in the unit. How was he supposed to go to the husbands and wives and kids of the people who would have died coming after me and tell them, sorry, but your loved one was less important than me getting one person back. Tell me that."

Acadia stood in frustrated silence.

"And then on top of that, he has to deal with his only child being mad at him for making the only choice he could. How do you think it made him feel letting you go off on a suicide mission, knowing that what was probably the last time he would see you that you were hating him? How do you think that felt for him?"

The young woman flailed her arms wildly. "He didn't even know. He wouldn't have let me go, I had to go on my own."

Faith raised her hand. "Bull. You think he didn't know the whole time that you were going to do what you did? Why do you think Cat agreed to come along with you? How do you think you guys found out about the CCAF raid timing? How do you think there was a shuttle with Death Commandos waiting to extract you guys? Just like he couldn't choose to go himself, he knew he couldn't choose to stop you if you were determined. So he let you come after me because he knew you had to for your own sake, and he risked losing you because of it. And you are mad at him after all that? So yeah, you are being selfish."

Acadia stared at the floor for several minutes in stubborn silence. "Look, I'm sorry. This whole thing has just been insane, that's all.

"I understand, kiddo. But you did great. I owe you everything."

Acadia smiled. "Nah. You brought me into the world, the least I could do is keep you around in it for a few more years, right?"

"Well, when you put it that way...Now, go on. Get out of here. Let this old lady get some sleep. I have to get back into ass-kicking shape"