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[CaveHermit]

First .. Feel free to fold, spindle, and mutilate.. I can only blame the muse that stop by for Caf and smokes before he moves on to someone more worthy. It's an old piece.. Oldest date/time stamp is.. 09-11-06 It is prolly much older.. If you see your handle in the story reach out and say Hey to and old battle buddy. So with out further ado in all it's in-glory..

Warning klaxons blared to life. At first the gentle ones, the ones designed to detect a jumpship burrowing in the space out side normal of normal space. Ragnvald Gilbert, know to his friends and allies as the Hermit, looked up from layers of paper designs and schematics of the new agromechs for the frontier worlds. These agros were being designed around the General Motors Super load 240 IC engines.

“Maybe it’s the Enron back from refit.” Ragnvald thought to his self, “But they would be about a week early. The quarterly General Motors out bound shipment was last week. Other than someone official the next scheduled ship was the Enron. Finally his service to General Motors was over, time to move to a quieter planet. One with visitors on the ratio of less than once every two standard years.”

Ragnvald let his thoughts drift back to the discovery of The Enron and his salvation to being a purely alone with his dreams.

The good thing about being mechwarrior profiteer is you sometimes get to make your own rules. One time back when I was younger, stupider, and risking all for little. Serving garrison duty on some backward world out in the periphery. I, Ragnvald “Hermit” Gilbert, had put my Goliaths leg into sub-cavern. After scrambling down into the hole that had neatly trapped “The mule’s” left front leg. I have just discovered a cache of ancient life pods. Days later I managed to get one of them working. After the first the rest were easy. It didn’t contain much. Just the location of 1^st or 2^nd generation jumpship, liftship, and nearly a full cargo of ore. This jumpship predated the even the exodus of Kerensky. And only I knew where it was. It took me almost six years to the right people with the right connections and the will to go along with this wild ship chase. It only cost me the one of the several plans for some of the lost tech I found in the life pods. Needless to say the computer storage of the gifts from the far past were going to make my near future better.

It seems this lost Jumpship’s nuclear reactors had suffered what was termed a fuel rod scram. I had no clue what that meant at the time, but after a bit of research I found out. I learned before the advent of the fusion plants that now power about everything under a sun, there was a device called a fission reactor. This breeder reactor used rod of toxic radioactives to power the ship. Now these “power plants” may have been considered safe in those days but in nowadays... eeeehhh ... no... I rather polish my Goliath by hand. But back to the story.
It seems this breeder reactor had scrammed flooding the ship with deadly doses of radiation. Not enough to kill instantly but enough so that ship was deemed unsalvageable. I suspect that the ship was just so far out that it was not cost effective to salvage and the crew expendable. Nothing more that dollar amounts, what they had before C-Bills, at the bottom of some companies’ ledger books. A write off. It seems the crew had managed to find a planet that they could make it to, but no-one ever made it to them. No-one with a memory of who they were, or where. Till I met them, The Lost Souls. A Mercenary group with access to a jumpship and need of start up capital. And it only cost me eighty percent of the mineral rights to the salvage and the jump space detector. (Side note. The Jump Space Detector, JSD, is able to detect a ship in jumpspace up to eighty megaklicks. It can inversely detect a ship in normal space from jump space to a distance of forty megaklicks. Not very useful for anything but early warning and salvage ops. Which it was designed for.) So after six months in deep space we final found The Enron. After we found it the, Souls thought I was truly mad. A jumpship with no working jump drive, a heavy lifter capable of lifting twelve Assault mechs or two of the mining trawlers, six mining trawlers, and more than enough smelted iron ore to refit the Souls and few extra mechs to spare. After a lengthy tow back to civilized space (someplace with a HPG). I contacted General Motors on Salem back in the Federated Commonwealth. You see several years before that I made the acquaintance of a young mech designer who happened to be stuck redesigning IC engines. Well those life pods contain the plans for few (if you count twenty-four as a few) IC engine “proto mechs”. I gave him one plan for a lumber mech and he managed to turn that one mech design into a rapid rise, to a position where he could help out an old friend... for a price. The price was in my books rather steep considering. Eighteen more of the proto/agro mechs designs and a three year contract to do the mine work for GM. But I would get a clean salvage on all the equipment, jump engine refit, and all the working salvage refitted to modern safety standards.
So here I am on a backwater planet, living in the shadow of the Feds, and not making a dime, but my salvage is mine. So far GM has lived up to it’s end and I to mine... GM has been making a huge planet profit for the last three years, and my friend is now running the local GM branch. And me... I have six mining trawlers, and heavy lifter, and soon a jump capable Cargo tug/Zero-Gee smelter.
The mining trawlers are just glorified mobile ore smelters. Forty meters long, ten meters wide at the top and twenty meters wide on the bottom. Riding on four eight meter wide treads, standing five meters high off the ground. Raw ore and dirt goes in the front through huge ten meter wide doors. And directly into the new fusion powered smelters, where pure ore is formed into ingots and stored in the upper sections. The command deck juts out from the front like the nose on some sort of burrowing rodent. Capable of an atmospheric seal and recycling. Of these six trawlers only two of them worked corrently. The other four salvaged for parts. Trawler 6 is working smelter trawler capable turning out any variety of metal ingots and bars. Trawler 5 can do the same thing as Trawler 6, but contains full working dual mech bay. Trawler 4 is the security wing of the =MBA= Salvage company. Housing everything from a small sixteen person brig to storage and deployment of two assault lances. (If you call deploying a mech in under ninety minutes fast. It’s a weird packing structure). Trawler 3 is just a huge lumbering storage bin, with a really big entrainment center. O.K. It’s a bar, in a warehouse and all are welcome. Trawler 2 is mobile apartment building. Everyone who works for the MBA live here too. Living quarters for 160 extra people. All trawlers have living quarters for their needed operation staff, about twenty per trawler. Trawler 1 is a Mobile Field Base, Communications centers, Field Office, and MASH. All the trawlers are rust brown but have armor strength that show they knew how to make them back then.
The Heavy Lifter is a bright orange precursor to the modern Overlord class dropship. It is designed to do one than and one thing well... Take heavy things under and down under virtually any conditions, whether a sub-zero ice storm, z-gee moon, recently hardened lava field, or a moderate mech attack. Not fast, not pretty but they knew how to design them back then.
Then there is The Enron, a Cargo tug/Zero-Gee Smelter of a Jumpship. Who knows what she’ll look like after the Yare shipyards on Kathil get through with her. But at least she’ll be able to jump from one star system to the other. Maybe not fast but she’ll get there with few problems.
The =MBA= Salvage Company can harbor 160 extra people (total 250 people) comfortably, and 300 extra under stressful conditions. I know... I know... What does a salvage mining company need with all this stuff...? Cause it’s also a mercenary unit. A small insignificant mercenary unit. See Ragnvald’s father had told him. “If you want to make a big difference. Make a small one first.”
You see the MBA guards the home of anyone fighting for anything, as long as it’s not anywhere near the battles. We pull garrison duty on the home worlds of Mercenary units. Everyone has an enemy, so while you’re away doing your duty for what ever cause you have. We’ll make sure no one decides to force you to move. So rest assured that for a small section of your battle salvage, an a few C-bills, and mining rights to that hill over there while you’re gone. We’re a band of nomads, miners, mechwarriors, carving our footnote in history within the footnotes of other histories. And were good at mining and mechs. But we are neutral. Talk, drink, then fight. And we seldom have to fight.

But The Enron was not due in yet which brought my attention to the comm signal from the Davion outpost. I knew almost immediately what the the Office of the Day was going to ask me before I even answered the vidlink.

“Hello and No... It’s not the Enron. Not for another four days. Executive Officer Phlash.”
“It’s not on any schedule planet wide, so that means only one of two things. One The Enron is back early and unannounced, which I doubt or corporate raiders. You know without that JSD gizmo of yours we would not have a warning till they entered our asteroid belt. Then we have to piece together who they are and why they are here in less than ninety minutes. Now we have a leisurely four hours. You’re making us soft Hermit.”
“Let me know if you need any help. The MBA Salvage Company is at your service for some of the salvage. We’re not going make it all the way back to GM HQ before they get here. Were going to circle the wagons at blue canyon mine four. Hermit out...”
Ragnvald reached out and punched vidlink off. Putting away the schematics of the last of the Agro mechs General Motors would get from him ever. Grabbing a well cared full neuro helmets and salvaged clan coolant vest. He punched the general alarm, on the way out the door. A green blinking light lit the corridors.
Within thirty minutes the entire visiting local crowd would be out of the trawlers headed toward whatever domicile they called home. The smelters would enter shut down phase, blast doors sealed, and atmospheric generators brought online. Forty minutes the trawler would be sealed up tighter than a bank vault at closing time before a three day weekend and the giant fusion powered trans motors each powering up one of the single unit of the quad treads. Truly independent all wheel, err tread, drive.
The Hermit rounded the corner pulling on the coolant vest, and stepped on the bridge of the Herdmaster.
“Herdmaster... Make course for blue canyon mine four. Maximum speed. Summon the staff to the planning bridge.” Ragnvald barked as he took the center seat.
Staring out control twenty-five meters over the rough terrain, he felt the transmotors engage with a slow lurch. He watched the scenery slowly lumber at the herd’s top speed on thirty kph over this rough terrain. He slowly flipped thought the bridge feeds from all the other trawlers one by one. The herd moved single file though the rolling hills. Occasionally a flock of bird or a stamped of the local fauna stirred up by the passing of the survey cars searching for easiest and less destructive path. When your twenty meters wide on five meter wide treads and massing over 15,000 metric tones not much stands in your way. Thirty minutes later he got the signal that the planning staff was ready. With a heavy sigh he left the bridge.


Climbing down the twenty-four rungs to the planning bridge. Ragnvald paused and stole a quick glance in a near-by access panel. The rough visage of a middle aged mechwarrior stared back. The once solid black hair now streaked with grays and whites had a perment slept in look. He tried everything except shaving off to fix it. His dirt colored eyes gleamed mischievously and dulled with wisdom randomly. A well groomed mustache acted in strict contrast to tan weathered lined face. Looking at the two day growth of beard he remembered he forgot to shave, again. Turning he walked the 3 remaining meters to the open door of the planning room.
Glancing around the room he was glad to see that his former XO, now partner and Herdmaster, had only invited the senor staff that needed to know. Even though that Mac the bartender was technically not needed in any of his staff meetings he was always there. See he was rumor control. He controlled the information inside the heard. With just the right word in the right ear he could increase mine production 5%, or make fresh local grow veggies wide up in the mess hall and restaurants.
“In about,” glancing at his wrist, “Three hours and ten minutes, we should be seeing first dropship land. Since this nice low end industrial planet now producing plans for the newest frontier agro mechs around. I expect this is going to me a smash and grab. Four maybe five lances. Mostly lights and mediums. They will either be landing at blue canyon mine number 4 or taking off from it, but a small chance that we will be ignored all together.”
“What is the operational status of the mechs?”
“Sir, Only your goliath is fully operational. The Ra (a Cyclops CP-11-C), is currently down being refitted with the new C3 improved. Micro-Zeus (a Thunderbolt TDR-7M) is also down for the same down for the same refit. Taz is still not able to bear its own weight; it seems that we have to wait for the new hip to arrive. That tumble broke it real good.”
“O.K. we can field one assault mech. And lots of nothing else. We do nothing and ride out our contact, which due to our current situation ‘we cannot reasonable expect to engage’...Or do we go for the last minute bonus. So I want all the options and even the dirty little tricks you think might work. After all we do have the natural dirty little trick of blue canyon mine 4.”
As plans and ideas poured fourth, the mesa of blue canyon mine 4 pulled onto the horizon. The canyon was actually a solid volcanic plug that stood 100 meters straight up and 200 meters nearly perfectly around. Except for the artificial ramp threaded up to its solid blue basalt top. But it was a natural optical illusion from any angle in space. It looked exactly like a 10 meter deep round mining canyon. Yes, it can hold a dropship or two, but the road leading up can support civilian ground cars. It’s only a real use was as an ancient fort to a long vanished populace that once lived on this planet. They never made it out of the feudal system before they were whacked by an extinction asteroid. And just about the time the earth got hit by its dinosaur killer. But unless you actually see it or did some good local research it was a pit on every satellite photo.
After two hours they had a plan to slow the invaders down. They couldn’t stop em if they came but they could slow them down for the Knights of Davion to arrive on scene. Heck the Knights were prolly on they’re way to the GM plant to defense. That ought to throw them that there luck was so bad as to catch the knights on some probable route assignment. But the MBA Salvage and Mining Company was determined to get a bonus in this months check. One of the good things about hiring the dreamers that love the work they do is sometimes we get wierd but workable ideas, and some that don’t, but most do. Like finding a use for these ancient miners and associated equipment, into a living breathing mobile mechbay, mercenary unit, salvage company, mining company and town. No-one that why. That’s why it will work, because it’s the no-ones that make it work.
We opened the town like normal. Behind the scenes prepared and jury rigged and waited for the dropship to start its fiery descent. That would tell us what we did next. A few hours later we were rewarded with a single streak of fire junking and juking its path thought the afternoon haze. Worker vehicles set off for the forest a short distance away. It was time to get The Blue Mule moving. It was named the Blue mule after a story my mother told me once before cancer took her from me. It was about Paul Bunyan and his Big Blue Mule, (Later learned it was an Ox, which still earns me lots of ribbing.). My beloved Blue Mule. A Goliath GOL-3M, with highlander feet. Actually it’s the entire lower legs and it’s just pure luck that knee actuators fit like that. It’s nine and half meters. 80 tons of Quad. It’s got the exact same configuration of the new GOL-3S, Heavy Gauss, and LRM 10 with Cased ammo, and 2 nice new extended range medium lasers. The Blue Mule has a few extras that are not in any of the Goliath models. Like triple strength Myomer, and an other additions that make sense on a piece of salvage or mining equipment.

Settling into my I went thought the power-up sequence, checked the status of the chameleon netting and set off in the direction of the GM plant. Twenty minutes later I entered a scrub land, rolling hills, light woods, and a few hidden broken crevasses among the grass fields. I could make out the tracks for the worker vehicles in the tall grass, the hidden surprises they left behind blinking on my HUD. I found a nice set of hummocks and went hull down. Flipping the Mule’s fusion reactor to full standby, I powered up the chameleon netting and became part of the landscape.
I waited and I watched the horizon for anything to other than the scrub deer to appear. I must have fazed out for a bit, cause I missed the beginnings of the refinery fire, but the sound of the explosion some 100 klicks away reverberated in the cockpit. A thick black rolling column of smoke rose silently in the air. I could see a few stray flashes of light just below the horizon, punctuated by the stray blasts of PPC’s streaking skyward. I would soon see if my hunch played out, if not at least it was going to nice sunset.
Extended range sensors send back signals of the incoming mechs. Two lights and medium from the mass counter. Using the precision drilling sensors was a stroke of genius of the part of my drilling foreman, sure they are not as sensitive as the military models, but I just wanted to know how many and size. Using my targeting scope, I peered in the general direction of the field break. Sure enough three mechs lumbered into view, and then two more appeared on the far flanks about 300 meters from the main group. I double-checked the mass counter. It was still reading three targets not five. Either the equipment was glitching, a distinct possibility, or they had an ECM package, more probable. I had a few moments before they were within range.
I got the Blue Mule ready for 5 second power-up. I kept two of the three coolant systems off-line, I was going to need to build up heat and keep it hot for the triple strength Myomer to perform right. If things got two hot I could always turn them back on. Sighting in on the rapidly advancing group, I picked out Uller, Spider, and a Centurion, flanking on the left was a Raven, and on the right was Firestarter. I tried to figure out why they had chosen this particular assortment of mech. Sighting the ground in from of the main group, I hot loaded the Light Crossbow LRM-10, and put the sights of the Defiance Hammerfist Heavy Gauss on Raven. I watched the range counters tick down.
At about 700 meters out I let the Crossbow LRMs fly. They shook the chassis as they left the tubes, and went skimming across the ground like an angry swarm of bees. I hear the cooling mechanism kick in to cool the firing tubes to an operational temperature. I kept the hot load switch on, knowing that I might never get a lock on the fast movers but the good thing about LRMs is they work well with out without a target lock.
The Raven pilot must have spotted the launch as the upper torso scanned in my direction. So I rewarded his vigilance by depressing the firing stub on the Hammerfist Heavy Gauss. I felt the hairs on body stand on end as the magnetic coils quickly hummed to life and sent the heavy iron-ferrite slug down the barrel. Slapping the reactor to battle mode, The Mule rose like an angry beast disturbed from its den. The solid gauss round slammed in center torso of the raven and proceed through the reactor and out the back. Lights, great for recon, fast as hell, can’t take a hit. The raven stumbled as fell at the power to its legs was abruptly removed. Still carrying the forward momentum the mech fell nose first in the scrub and rolled onto it’s back and slid another 20 meters. Panning the Hammerfist Heavy Gauss back to the main ground I fired the Crossbow LRMs again at the main group. The first missile’s were just then throwing great clumps of earth a rocketed skyward as they chewed into the soil 15 meters in from the Spider. As the now flaming Raven edged off my gun sights I saw the telltale flashes of and ejection pod firing. Too bad the mech was upside down, the pilot might have proven useful.
The Spider executed a beautiful mid stride jump. It pirouetted nicely in the air as it cleared the mini-fire balls of the remaining of the second LRM volley. The Uller throttled up and fired. Brilliant blue-green light lanced out under the legs of the floating spider, and passed harmlessly thought the chameleon netting still attached to my undercarriage. The Centurion how ever was now air born and firing also. Triple lances of light flashed across my right torso digging into armor like short lived termites. But unless they got smart or lucky or both, this was a no-win from these corporate raiders. It was just a matter of how long they would last. I hit the release for the netting as LB ammo spanged off my center torso. Another lance of light scorched my front let leg. The Uller, Spider and Centurion were doing some strange but well coordinated leapfrog toward me at a rapid pace. I let loose with another Hammerfist Heavy Gauss round at where I hoped the centurion would be during its next leap, as I did a quick visual scan for the Firestarter. It was face first on the ground struggling with the heavy cables that had gotten entwined in its feet.
“Must have stepped into one of the mech traps.”, I thought ruefully.
It was not going to be a worry for a few minutes. Meanwhile the heavy gauss round I send out a half a second earlier arrived at it target location, but the target I wanted it to hit was safely on the ground. But the Spider had jumped nearly directly into it. It spun like a drunken college kid pretending to know some karate. If this style of martial arts was meant for persons with only on leg. The dismembered leg hung on the hip of the spider with only a few stands of Myomer. If the spider pilot could correct the spin it might be able to land without too much more damage... But I doubted it. The spider was salvageable but definitely out of play for the rest of this game.
More large laser beams and LB-5 rounds danced across my torso and legs, nothing significant yet, but it was adding up. The Uller was closing the distance fast. I ejected the current load out of Crossbow LRM and shut the unit down. I dimly head the ten live LRMs being shunted out the back of the LRM housing and clattering to the ground, as I throttled back to a slow walk The Uller junked left, unleashing a SRM-4 salvo, as it narrowly missed a Heavy gauss round as it skipped off the ground where the Uller had been. The Ullers ER Large Laser and LB 5 chewed on my left torso and legs as it swung past. The Centurion had swung to my right, and was by far the biggest threat left. I pivoted right, slowly pulling the heavy gauss toward the centurion. The Centurion’s ER Large Laser and twin regular large lasers fired at once, you learn to tell the colors apart in battle. Punching a critical hole into my right torso destroying the now empty Crossbow LRM-10 launcher below it. I thanked my forefathers that I had ejected the hot loaded LRMs just moments before. My twin Ramtech 1500Z ER Medium lasers and Hammerfist Heavy gauss fired at once, tearing the centurion’s right arm with its twin Large lasers clean off. The heavy gauss round had scored a phenomenal hit, traveling straight up the stretched out reached arm of the centurion and out the shoulder, and the scarlet light had cauterized the wound at the shoulder.. The Centurion pilot staggered as his gyros fought to keep the mech upright. The Pilot never saw the live LRM round that had somehow rolled under its left foot. I could hear the Centurions gyros scream in agony as the missile’s warhead exploded under the weight. The Centurion fell on its back with enough force, I could see a section of a gyro come flying out the right torso and sail into the evening air.
I knew the Uller was now behind me and charging my rear. I threw the mule into a hard left turn. Turning the slightly stronger left armor attacker. The ER large laser, stung my rear leg, the LB5 pelted my left torso, a small pulse laser danced across my belly. My Hammerfist Heavy gauss swung around, but it was not going to be quick enough, and the Ramtech Medium Lasers were on the wrong side. The Uller skated under my field of fire and slipped under the Mule, and slid to a stop to chew at my under belly. The Uller pilot was smart, and got out of my fire zones, but not smart enough to keep traveling and make another pass. In the split second, I think we both realized his mistake. I hit the Shutdown override and killed all power to the goliath. With no power to the legs the mule sat on the Uller. My rear armor buckled a bit and I had to clench my teeth as the squeal of metal on metal ran though the goliath. I heard the snapping of endo-steel structure, and felt the shock of SRM ammo being ejected to possible save the mech from catastrophic ammo explosion due to crushing. The Cased SRM ammo, not having any where to eject to, exploded under me. The Mule shifted violently upwards, and then another awful metal squeal as eighty tons settled back down on this bug of an Uller, further rendering it a 30 ton ball of scrap metals.
Quickly I power back up and started scanning for the Centurion. My rear and under armor was in tatters but still holding. My heat was in the upper end of yellow, just the amount of heat I’d been looking for. I spotted the centurion still getting to it feet less than 5 meters behind me. The centurion pilot had had a good seat for his friend’s death and if I was him I’d be pissed. I decided I help him get over the Ullers death. I kicked out with my right rear leg. My hoof, o.k. it’s a foot but hoof is more accurate, lashed out with triple strength powered leg catching the Centurion square in the head. The centurion’s head and cockpit, now bearing an impression of the underside a highlander foot, glinted dully as it sailed in a gracefully arc in the now fading sunlight. I quickly scanned about for the last mech.
The Firestarter had gotten up and making flank speed back toward the blazing refinery. Turning on all the coolant systems and putting the reactor to overload status, I slammed the Mule’s throttle to full. Turning on the LRM system I was greeted by a critical failure warning.
“DOH!”, and muttered as I slapped the front of my neuro helm.
I’d forgotten it was rendered inoperable earlier in the fight. I sighted the Firestarter in at extreme range with the Hammerfist Heavy gauss and fired. Knowing I’d have a slim chance of hitting at this distance. I squeezed the fire stud, and suddenly lurched down and right as stepped into one of my own mech traps. The gauss round plowed into the dirt not 100 meters in front of me. I keyed the mike to Herd’s command frequency.
“I need a salvage crew out here, Lay claim to the spider. Also radio the Knights of Davion and tell them there is a Firestarter headed their way. I’m in pursuit but have little chance of catching it.”
I didn’t even wait for a response as I changed over to the Knights general use frequency. I listened for any thing the Knight might be saying, but was greeted with silence. I withdrew my foot from mechtrap and continued in pursuit. My speed was hampered even more seems I had broken an ankle actuator. I saw the flash of PPC and Laser fire just over the rise. There was a glow of the refinery in the distance. Cresting the hill I saw KD Phlash finishing off the Firestarter with a swift overhead hatchet blow. Phlash was a very good pilot, piloting a very old very rare Black Knight. Must have been his family for generations. Phlash’s Black Knight was charred across its left torso and head.
“Good job there Phlash. Glad he ran into you.”
“Good to see you Hermit, Thanks for the help.”
“I’ve claimed one mech as salvage, as the planetary defense force the rest is yours to dispense as required. What happened back at the refinery?”
“Nothing much, we just walked into a really big diversion and trap. They waited till we got into the edge of refinery, knowing full well we’d not fire till they were clear of it. Then they blew it up. While we were fighting one group it seems the group you destroyed took off. The group we were fighting was just fighting a holding action, as soon as they saw they were on the receiving end of a very big stick they took off. I was ordered to stay behind to help put out some of the fires and move some of the larger debris. While working on the east side I noticed a set of tracks headed in your direction and decided to follow them. I heard your call for help assistant and decided to ambush him. On other news the KD Aerospace wing drove off the dropship that could not quite figure out how to land on the blue canyon mesa. It seems there was some sort of circus or carnival happing all over their drop zone. So they packed up and ran smack into the aerospace wing. Drove them beyond any reattempt at landing. Last seen they were venting atmosphere and striving toward the trailing Trojan point. At least that dropship won’t be back.”
“Phlash, I’ll get the herd moving to help with the refinery fire and rebuild. You want your techs, my techs, or the General Motors techs doing the report on the destroyed mechs? I think we’d get more info if yours or mine did the reports. Talk it over with Beowulf and let me know before I set loose my techs on them.”
“Roger that Hermit. That bar of yours got anything from Terra in yet? Something with a dead worm in the bottom of the bottle?”
“Phlash, you know you can’t afford the real stuff, heck I can’t even afford to import it much less sell it. But there was a case of a fine grain wine from Bristol. Should be a good close second to that tequila of yours. Salute Sir Phlash, May your evening be less stressful.” I responded while sticking my right front leg out in the only salute a quad can do.
“You too. And how did you know where to wait for second group, or that there was even going to be a second group, Hermie?”, Phlash intoned as he crossed the hatchet hand across his chest.
“Because it was I would have done if I was the raiders… And Phlash…”
“Yes?”, I heard the smirk in voice.
“Don’t call me Hermie.”, I replied as I cut the link.
Switching back to the herd channel, I keyed the mike and powered down my weapons.
“Herdmaster... Send both mining trawlers and the Mechbay to refinery for help on the repairs. Have the mechbay stop and pick up the salvage, our toys, and the Mule at the battle site. Careful there are hot rounds in the area. And give everyone not on duty a night’s leave for the carnival.”
“Carnival, Sir I have no clue what you’re talking about.”
I could hear the amusement in his voice, like a child hiding a silly secret.
“Then what ever activity is going on, up top of the mesa.”
“Oh, you meant the testing of the new sunspot night operations equipment.”
Then I put it all together in my mind. The Herdmaster had done one optical illusion on another. He main the mine lights look like a local fair going on. The rest of the crew and their families had played along. Though I suspected there was a real party going on about now.
By the time Ragnvald arrived at the battle site the Mobile Mechbay had already loaded up the Spider, defused and cleaned up the live rounds, and still collecting the traps. Ragnvald maneuvered the Blue Mule into transport cradle, and powered down when he felt the locking clamps engage. Cool night air flooded the cockpit as he popped the hatch. The Hermit sat in the palm of the severed centurions hand and watched the transport cradle slowly slide up and into the Mechbay. Not the quickest way to store a mech but it was unique. The Thunderbolt in the next bay over looking like a patient on an operating table. Leaning into the backwards into the mechbay,
“Dad would be proud.”, he thought, “I took information useless to anyone else in the know universe and made it into this. And the universe be damned if he would let anyone own him again.”
The Hermit was proud of his creation and new found family. The Hermit borrowed a ground car from the mechbay and headed home.
“I did good.” Ragnvald silently said into the night breeze.
“They will come one more time. Not tonight. Not tomorrow. But very soon, because it would be what I would do.”, he thought suddenly needing a very stiff drink to wash the acid taste from his mouth.



Ragnvald lurched in his bunk, banging his head sharply against the wall. Rubbing the tender spot he wondered why anyone would put a porthole not in the middle of one’s sleeping area, but at one feet or head. IF it was in the middle of the bunk wall he not bangs his head every time the herd moved out when he was sleeping. . Putting the porthole at the foot end of the bunk never made sense unless you liked the sun on your feet, which in it’s self is not a bad feeling, just nothing like the gentle warming effect of the sun on one head.
The herd was on the move again, and from the looks out the windows they were headed to the General motors factory. GM was prolly going to use the smelters to reform pipes and holding tank sections after yesterday’s raid. At least this move would put the MBA at site when their contract ended. Whish was as soon as The Enron was back from overhaul. The fires from the burning storage tanks were still burning in the field, but they were growing less intense with each one brought under control, or at least that is the way it looked from the ropes of dense smoke that still wafted into the air.
Ragnvald hoped that the Knights of Davion would catch the rest or the raids that landed with the first batch yesterday, but he knew in heart the MBA would have to protect its sponsor at least one more time before the contract expired in 3 days. Ragnvald punched the vid link to the Mechbay. A sweat covered soot streaked face filled the screen; you could just make out welder flashes behind him.
“Morning Boss... Boy, you look rough tough night?”
“Morning, Roy. I’ve had better. Give me a quick status run down.”
Roy looked down and flipped though some papers that were beneath the vid’s camera. Ragnvald heard over the open comm. Some yell “Look out below!” followed by a monstrous clang of something heavy being dropped to the deck plating from what sounded like the full height of the bay. Roy visibly flinched as a two pieces hit, but didn’t react otherwise.
“O.K. the quick version. The Mule is operational, but you have to take it easy on the front ankle. Most of the damage to the ankle was easily repaired but you nearly yanked it off yesterday. Most the fittings are stretched to spec limits. Should work fine unless put it in another hole. It will take 2 days downtime to make it like it was. We did manage to get the C3-slave shoe horned in but you lost a heat sink the process. So Watch that. But other than that The Mule is 100% operational. All battle damage has been repaired. Ra is operating at fully status; the C-3 Master is working well. Ra is ready rock.
Now maybe Highlander will stop bugging me every standard hour for status. I hope he is not using the Cockpit train mode for mode of those video games he managed to dump into Ra’s main system. I just don’t get boss. Why would anyone want to play at being a flying mouse that throws flaming cheese sentient flesh eating mobile toxic mushrooms?
The Tbolt is at operational status. The C-3 Slave is working perfectly too. I got a few Ideas about a pilot for that mech since it still seems to be unassigned. The wolverine has its hip replaced thanks to that find the Knights found in there storehouse. The C-3 Slave is also been working right. That was a good idea, to install the C-3 Slave while we were looking for a replacement hip. Shelly will be grateful that she doesn’t have to sit in command and play tactical officer anymore. She’s not arm-chair general material. That spider you brought in yesterday. At this point in time it just spare parts. Need a full hip and lower spine replacement. That shot you made yesterday obliterated the left hip socket and upper thigh completely, and send fractures to both the right hip and lower spine. If it wasn’t got the myomer connecting them that spider would be in two pieces. In other words... You broke your new toy. So if you have to go to battle in the next few days you can field a full lance.”
“Great news, Roy. When we get to the plant unload the mechs and get the bay ready to put the refinery back together. Nothing fancy... Just patch it up and make sure the tanks hold. We got 3 days to end of contact so no slip ups now. “
“Roger That Boss.”
“Hermit out.” The last thing Ragnvald heard from the vid link switched off was Roy yelling orders to the rest of his MechMonkeys.
Today was looking to be a good day.
Low grasslands rolled steadily by porthole.

The herd stopped two klicks out side the General Motors compound. Mech unloading was already in process when Ragnvald stepped into the mech bay. Hatsu “Highlander” Pahin was overlooking the unloading of RA, looking a bit worried.
“Hatsu! A word if you don’t mind.” Ragnvald yelled across hiss of plasma torches, and whine of hydraulics.
Hatsu turned and started to walk to Ragnvald. Limping slightly to the right as he strolled across the open deck. His Dark emerald green hair running in several sharp spikes of the back of his head. Ragnvald always hoped it was going to be a flash in the pan fad when he first saw it on local young adults. I knew it was colored I suspect his real hair color is white and is a bit older than the nineteen his official papers say. He came looking for the MBA from sources unknown. How he heard about us before we even were even operational I’ll never know. But so far he has kept up his deals with me. He’s on the run from something or someone. I didn’t ask and I don’t want to know till he is ready. After all he did manage to procure this new C-3 system for us, all for a chance to be a mech warrior. That limp of his was a nice enigma too. Hatsu claims the limp is the result of him having to learn to rewalk again after his neuro helmet gave him a massive feedback loop at the tender age of twelve when he captured a Bushwhacker and started a riot back on terra. IT shorted out quite a few of brain cells to the point of being unfit to enlist in any of the Houses Mech corps. Personally I think the captured bushwaker story is a load of jet wash, strong hot gusts of air, but every Pilot has his good story. Personally I think he was just a very talented kid, the got to playing around in a Mechbay or Training site. I never bother to check to see about the wild past exploits of my people. I just want to know if they are basically telling the truth and they were where they said they were. But that’s enough insight into me, back to my main concern Hatsu.
Hatsu squinted as he got closer to me; he was not wearing his glasses or contacts again. That squinting furthered actuated his Asian features. Hatsu laid calling to New Tokyo in Japan of Sol. Personally I think he from one of the Kurtia worlds. Make more since. And I know he’s got some less than legit contacts. I mean those C-3’s he brought to the table for being allowed and chose to Pilot the RA, arriving in crates marked personal portable computers, did raise a few eyebrows.
“Morning Commander”, Hatsu said in clipped English.
“Morning Hatsu. Today might be your first real battle since you talked me into signing you on.”
“I know, I won’t let you down Commander.”
“Stop calling me commander, first off. Second, either put in contacts or wear your glasses. I can’t have my com and sensors specialists not being able to see his control board. I’ve assigned you to the RA for specific reasons. Name you seem to be able to give me the data in the sims when I call for it or give it to me just before I knew I needed it. Comm and sensor traffic you send to have a natural knack for. I just wish I knew why it works only in a battlemech. Take you out of a mech and you seem to have trouble just dialing a phone. We’ll work on you close combat skills as we can but your main function is stay out of trouble and act as our extended eyes and ears. Take the safe shots, and holler for help if you need it.”
“Roger that Sir. And Again I thank you for giving me a shot, you’ll not regret it.”
“Hatsu, you can relax. You not going to get fired or let go. You signed a contract, you held to your conditions and I’ll hold to mine.”
A dark shadow fell across the decking. In the Mech Bay door way stood Shelly “Rain” Stanhouse. Shelly was a big mountain of a woman. Not fat big, but physically big. She could have passed for a Clan Elemental and often was. She had some sort of Indian ancestry, never have known if it was American Indian or East India. Dark piercing eyes raven black hair, and a break like nose looked like they had been cut out of an expensive wood. She was also one of the best Medium range fighters this planet had to offer. When she showed up a month back with her family Wolverine in parts in the bed of heavy transport truck. I was impressed with her tenacity of asking for help and loyalty to sign a five year contact with reduced bonuses for fixing her mech up and being allowed to pilot it. Took almost a month for techs to figure out eh language that wolverine’s main system was using. Turned out to be a type of Hieroglyphs, also turns out that is the only language she can read and write in.
“Shelly. I’m glad you dropped by. Do you have any candidates to pilot the T-Bolt? I’d like to leave with planet with a full lance.”
“What about the Bob? He’s from Solaris V and he did bring the Earth Eater construction mech with him?”
“Yeah, He could do it and I don’t Solaris pilot that didn’t know some thins about combat. I’ll ask him. O.K. Pilot briefing in thirty. I want all the start-up checks complete to the point of just hitting the switch to go.”
“Roger That” Hatsu snapped back.
“Copy.” Chimed Shelly.

Thirty minutes later in the pilots lounge.
“Due to yesterday’s encounter we’re high alert. Bob... Glad you to have you aboard.” Ragnvald saluted the new recruit.
Bob grinned sheepishly from under the brim of tan Solaris V Championship ball cap. He shifted uncomfortably in the bulky worker coolant vest.
“Since this is your first combat mission, you’ll lack a call sign for now. Bob, you’ll be piloting a Thunderbolt, Mech Name is Micro-Zeus. If you do good feel free to rename it. Rain, Highlander your to help with the real heavy stuff at the refinery. Bob you on gate duty with me. Highlander, were going to rely on you to point us in the right direction if anything hits the fan. Both of you. IF we get into one today. First ask for permission to fire. Second follow your training, and your gut. Third follow if you get stuck for what to do ASK. Follow my orders in heavy fight and I will get you out alive. Questions?”
“Who, what and how many?” Shelly quipped.
“Who... Raiders, probably corp mercs. What…Dunno there was nothing in the mechs computers relating to it... How many... Good question... Wish I had and answer.”
“How do you know there are any more?” Hatsu asked in a flat tone.
“We don’t. Not until the Knights of Davion have finished their sweep of the area. Which is another problem in it self. With the KD spread so thin in this area, only a single Heavy lance for 600 square klicks. So we can’t count on them for help either. So it’s basically us between them and what ever they want at the GM plant. Sorry. The good news is we have access to the planetary satellites via RA. Something the KD doesn’t have to my knowledge. Highlander when you fire up monitor the KD General and Lance bands, as well the planetary news network. Prep the infra-red cameras on the sat for our use, but leave it in the hands of whom ever is using till we need it. Any More questions? …No... Then Let get to work and everyone have a safe day.”

Ragnvald watched Rain and Highlander escort Smelter trawlers and Mechbay head toward the smoldering refinery. Hermit and one of the mech monkeys walked beside the rest of the herd to the General Motors factories just a few klicks away from the refinery. It was still a nice day.

With the Tbolt in front of the command trawler looking like some sort of ancient lawn ornament. Ragnvald watched the horizon though the Tbolt's gun cameras and cockpit sensors, as Bob ran though another simulation. The kid was anxious to prove himself but I was limiting him to one combat session every two hours, but the rest of the time was filled with various combat procedures. The comm channels were nothing out of the ordinary. Rain and Highlander had clear most the big stuff and it was rapidly being fend into the smelters, Pipes and plates emerged still cooling from the opposite end. At least the fires were out. With the sun slowly heading away from its zenith and it was still a nice day.

The problem with sentry duty is its boring. It’s nothing but hurry up and wait, but something is wrong. Scan the horizon for trouble, watch some wildlife frolicking, observe regular trucking, watch some of the local MBA women swim in the near by lake. >Zoom is a wonderful thing. < Wait a sec... Regular trucking… on a Sunday… Nice sneak... would have worked too, if the something is wrong feeling, kinda like that hair standing on end on the nape of your neck kinda feeling. He still hoped it was a nice day,
“Cobalt Group, This is Cobalt Leader. We have suspicious activity at the front gate. Highlander, Make your way up here in. Protect the left side. Rain make a wide flank on the right. Bob break off the sims and get ready for action, and get in touch with internal security and tell them to heat it up also.”
I powered up and took up a position at the gate a few short steps away. I was going to challenge the trucks and let them pass. Make them think they had gotten away with getting in. Let internal security play mop-up on the ground forces.
The two hover trucks pulled up at the security gate. I watched the driver present his papers and wait impatiently while they were processed. I decided to play with them a bit. At the two hovers passed thought the first gate and waiting for it to close behind them I took The Blue Mule and put it into kneeling position. Its Heavy Gauss aimed thought the flimsy metal fencing.
“Please present your papers again for level two security screening. Guard please run a level two on security ID’s. Sorry to do this folks but there has been lots of unwanted activity in the area lately.” I boomed over the external speakers.
I don’t know if it was the sight of being let then 4 meters from the barrel of a Heavy gauss, or the fact their papers were going to be closer examined but the driver held a trembling arm out to the guard and handed over the papers for re-examination. I got the thumbs up sign from the guard letting me know that the internal security was in place and ready for our trouble at the gate. The Guard walked back smiling and handed the papers back to the driver. I stood up and switched to my belly camera.
“You may proceed. Thank you for your cooperation. Have a Nice Day.”, the speakers exclaimed at a slightly lower volume.
I watched very carefully was the two trucks rapidly moved under my underbelly heading toward the loading docks. Flipping to Unit battle channel, I put out a general broadcast to all combat units.
“Highlander, Give me a heat reading on a 10 klicks circle from my location. I want to know where anything hotter than two rabbits mating is at.”
“I’m on it.”, Hatsu responded back.
“All Units go C-3 Active.”
“Ra’s C-3 Master has been online, Sir.”
“Wolverine, Online and gathering data.”
“T-Bolt, Online and gathering data.”
“Com’on Highlander... Tell me what I want to hear.”
“Just a few more ticks, Sir.”
“Attention MBA. All intruders have been dealt with. We caught them try to steal the prototypes.” a gruff voice piped in over the GM security channel.
“Roger that GM SecForce. Send one out were going to use it as bait and spring a trap on them.”
“One piece of cheese coming up, SecForce out.”
“Infra-red Satellite on HUD 3. Range 5 klicks down to 500 meters. Delay 1.24 seconds. Looks like we got campers. Count 5 Medium to heavy from the heat. One is just out of your LOS bearing 134. Just past the curve in the road.”
“Copy, “
The Infrared HUD blossomed to life at the lower center area of my field of view.
Five strong heat signatures dotted the map. They had the full front arc covered. From just the heat signatures we were facing at least a mixed star, Lights to heavies.
Ragnvald's eyes glazed. Inside his mind the battlefield came to life. Mech moved fired, lived, died. The MBA both won and lost the engagement. Then a brilliant idea sprang into being. He keyed the mike to the Knights of Davion channel...
“Knights. This MBA Mining & Salvage. We’ve got a situation here. Tell me if you can help with this plan….”
Ragnvald keyed the mike off, and reached out and set a timer.
“MBA Lance. Everything hinges upon the first few steps of this plan. Rain... Here is what I want you to do… Any Questions? Time starts from mark.”
This was turning out to be a very good day.

Ragnvald’s Goliath was moving at a slow walk along the fence line when the warning klaxons went off in the GM plant.
“Call as you spot em!”
Rain’s wolverine burst upwards from the light woods behind on the red heat blips. Weapons tracking quickly to bear in the direction of the target.
“Rifleman... Going to flush it out.” Rain shouted over the com as she stroked the Alpha strike on her Wolverine.
At the apex of it’s upward flight , twin solid lances of ER Large Laser light bracketed by twin pulsating lances of two Medium pulse lasers wreathed in flame from 6 short range missiles stabbed downward at the backside of the rifleman gone from hunter to prey. The lasers carved furrows in the back of the Rifleman, while the SRMs exploded in the ground behind it. Causing the pilot to accelerate forward to avoid medium pulse lasers again stitching its backside.
The wolverine landed firing. The large lasers missing and flying over the rifleman’s shoulders. Rain had not compensated for the slope of the land right. But the part had work out right. She pressed the Rifleman further up the hill slope.
Ragnvald had the rifleman already scoped in and waiting. When the rifleman’s cockpit stepped into the middle of the cross hairs.
The nickel-ferrite slug rocketed down and out the barrel. Even the treetop that blocked its path didn’t even slow it down. The slug impacted the top of the cockpit and ricocheted off into the sky at an oblique angle. The pilot struggled against the gyros as the mech tried to recover from the pilot’s body **** cause by such a near miss. Cause generally when large fast moving objects hit the cockpit they just don’t go away. Bob Let loose with a nice alpha of his own but focused on the hill side not the mech. Earth, rocks, and small trees showered the legs of the rifleman further throwing the mech off balance. The rifleman stumbled and slipped a bit and fell face first into the hillside. Rain, who had just launched her wolverine skyward again, just barely missed an accidental collision with the rogue gauss slug. Spotting the fact the rifleman was now prone and struggling with its “arms” to get back up. She let loose with another barrage and watched the instruments of death nail the helpless rifleman to the ground. With quick last minute adjustments to her flight she landed square in the middle of the mech back. Driving the barrels of the rifleman into the dirt, effective pinning the mech down and out of the rest of the fight. Rain activated her MASC unit and redlined the throttle. Straight line run, her mech throwing up massive divots of dirt and grass. The wolverine jumped the security fence made a quick 180 in the air killing most of her forward momentum; she landed hard and took a stabilizing step back. The Blue Mule fired it’s Heavy Gauss at the light mech that tried to peek around the edge of the hill.
“Panther. Left side of the road.”
Bright lasers lancer outward from both the Tbolt and the Wolverine. Trees burst into flames on the right side hill top.
“Starslayer right side of road up 10 degrees.”, Rain sounded off
“Penetrate Right side of the Road 250 right of Starslayer.” Bob spoke flatly.
“That 4^th mech is a Vindicator, Rain’s sensors gathered enough info to determine the type, and sat views show it was not moving. Looks to be about 300 meters left of the Panther. This has the looks of a stalemate.” Highlander chimed in.
“I concur with you there Highlander. Group all we need to do if keep them pinned down for about 10 minutes. If you get a shot take it, but other than that we wait it out. Highlander move up here and help out, if you pull up here maybe we can keep them from gathering their nerve to rush us.” Ragnvald commanded as he caressed the fire button again, sending a slug into the hillside just in front of the panther.
“Copy that boss”
“KD You may commence your run.”
“Aff Hermit, It’s Hammer time...eta six minutes.”
So the MBA and the raiders traded shots. Each side scoring hits. Extended Range PPC and ER Large Lasers flashed across the field. Each side scoring hits.
Static washed across my HUD as another PPC caught me square in the torso. A timer chimed in my headset.
“MBA Advance and destroy. Give me a straight line.”
Acknowledgements filled the team battle channel.
The Goliath stepped over the fencing advancing onto the field. Rain in her wolverine stepped up to left side with Highlander in the Cyclops on her left, Bob in the Thunderbolt filled in the right. A Leopard Class dropship with drop doors open and Mechs hanging out ready for release dropped out of the clouds behind the raiders.
“MBA This the Knights of Davion Dropship Charger. Drop in five...four...three... two... one!!!”
Flashes of explosive bolts fired and four Battle mechs fell about 10 meters then there drop jets fired and the Knights fell firing upon there unsuspecting prey. PPC and lasers stabbed downward. AC rounds rained hard death upon the unsuspecting raiders.
The panther pilot must have spooked and moved his mech into view from the knoll it was hiding behind. The panther’s armor withered and ran in great rivulets as the MBA Mech Lance poured firepower into the light mech. The panther stumbled and fell to the ground.
“Attention Defenders. We are powering down. Cease fire... I repeat we surrender Cease fire.” a strong voice flooded the multipurpose bands.
“This Planetary Defense Force Knights of Davion. Please move to the center of the field. Power down your mechs, pop your canopies and exit to the ground.”
“We will comply.”

Ragnvald watched as the mechs moved to the center of the field, sagged into “unconsciousness” and slowly made there way down the side of their mechs.

“Knights of Davion, this is Hermit. As per verbal agreement. Salvage is yours.”
“Thank you MBA Salvage & Mining for generous payment. We will wrap up here. If we don’t see each other again before you lift off. It’s been nice having some help planet side. Send me a list of the KD unpaid bar tabs I’ll have the C-bill credited to your account.”
Will do. If I remember right Phlash might not get a paycheck next cycle then. Free bar for the Knights tonight.”
It was a wild party that night, we learned early in the morning and took drunk to care The Enron was back in system The MBA would be off planet by the end of the next day. Combat damage was repaired before the reactors could cool down.
Later we learned that the corporate raiders were nothing more than a group solo pilot hunting for fame. General Motors filed charges with the local governments and the pilots arrested and sentenced to long terms of jail time. We also learned a ship jumped out within 20 minutes of The Enron jumping in.
With all said and done it had been a good day.



The Command trawler pulled up into the giant slot on the port side of the dropship. Trawler two was just in the final lockdown procedure. Being slowly raised into launch position.
“Herdmaster, call Bob to the launch lounge.”, Ragnvald spoke into the intercom while the airlocks cycled.
The doors locked open, and he and proceeded to the launch lounge for final lift. The Launch lounge was more of a multipurpose room with a window. It severed as crew bar/rec center/dinning hall/ gathering place. Several large 2 x 4 meter windows gave a splendid view outside. Ragnvald poured himself a drink from the mini-bar, and checked the nearby galley for something to make a meal of. Opening the door he nearly bowled Hatsu over sending a fired chicken leg flying though the air. Ragnvald’s hand shot out trying to pluck the deep fried fowl part out of the air, but Hatsu was a tad quicker, scooping the tumbling leg, up with a deft flick of his noodle filled chow mien bowl.
“No Offense... Get your own.” Hatsu smiled as he slipped by into the lounge.
In flight dinner would not be for quite a time yet, after all it was ten hours to the jump point for the route they were taking. The support staff had been very generous with the leftovers. The pickings would get slimmer has time went on but for now he had nice selection of cold cuts and finger foods.
Taking a center seat on the observation lounge he set his sandwich and deep fired potato slices, on the seat beside him. Settling into the plush acceleration couch he watched the recent and last news vids from this planet on the wall screen next to the window. During launch or flight these windows showed various camera views from out side.
There was a 30 second clip of the MBA Mining & Salvage Company helping with the refinery fire but nothing on the skirmishes. This was good because the MBA was leaving as quietly as it came. Senior staff and other authorized personal were slowly filling up the lounge area. Several staff stewards were now visible getting refreshments and snacks for everyone. Bob stood in the middle of the room looking lost and out of place in his bright orange work coveralls. I waved Bob over.
“You asked for me?”, Bob inquired under a tan Solaris V Championship ball cap.
“You passed the introduction to the MBA. Pull Dress uniform and combat dress from ship stores. Till the next port I want you and rest of the MBA in the training pods. Get to know and work with your lancemates. I’ll tell your shift boss to take you off the duty roster. You’ll still have to pull regular work shifts, just not as many in your Earth Eater. Any Questions?”
“Nothing that can’t be worked out later.”
“Good, Welcome aboard the MBA Fighting Unit. Feel free to mingle and get to know the rest of the staff, and help yourself to the bar. I’ll get back with you with your call sign soon. ”
The ship shuttered as the command trawler locked into launch position. The Lights brighten as the Mobile power generators came online to provide extra power to the lift engines. Soon the stewards were collecting drinks and securing loose objects. We all strapped in and made ready for launch... The lift went off without a hitch. I’ll never totally loose the sense of awe one gets watching a blue sky fade to blackness of space and I love the free feeling of Zero-gee. I found my self anxious and fidgety near the end of the voyage out to the The Enron.
Out the View port the Enron swam into view. Its snow white paint job reflecting brightly in the glow of the solar jump sail. The warty per-succession wars function over form philosophy of the single zero-gee smelter shone in stark contrast modern to the mulindivual draft lines of the new Jump section. The other four trawlers were parked in their bays, serving at secondary radiators for bleed excess heat from the smelter into space.

“I wonder what my friend Jade Tiger it up to. Have to take time to stop and see him.” Ragnvald thought idly as the Heavy Lifter settled into the nose of the The Enron, “There is a storm coming that we need to be prepared for. If what I have heard about the rumblings of the kakistocracy that Word of Blake was wanting to do was true. There was a storm coming that would approach the level of fourth succession wars. It was time to find a nice planet away from anything and carve out a hidey hole.”