Commander Mason]
[Enroute to New Avalon]
[New Avalon, New Avalon System; Federated Suns]
[October 28th, 3027]
ComStar News
Date: October 27th, 3027
Time: 1327 hours, Terran Time
"Periphery Protection Initiative": Federated Suns Launches Bold Defense Strategy
"In a monumental move, First Prince Hanse Davion, in conjunction with the Armed Forces of the Federated Suns (AFFS), has announced the launch of the "Periphery Protection Initiative." This strategic initiative is poised to address longstanding challenges faced by planets in the often-neglected "Outback" and "Periphery" regions of the Inner Sphere, providing a robust defense against the persistent threats of piracy and banditry.
In a candid acknowledgment of past shortcomings, First Prince Hanse Davion offered a sincere apology for the historical neglect of the administration in meeting the needs of citizens in less populous regions. The unveiling of the Periphery Protection Initiative signifies a commitment to rectify these oversights and ensure a more secure future for these remote territories.
The genesis of this initiative can be traced back to intensive deliberations between the First Prince and various Periphery Advocacy Groups. Armed with invaluable insights garnered from these interactions, the First Prince approached the AFFS' Military Procurement Board to spearhead a new military spending program. The objective was clear: to address the vulnerabilities inherent in the current National Defense Strategy and tailor solutions that specifically cater to the unique challenges faced by the Outback and Periphery regions.
The "First Phase" of the program introduces stringent requirements for the construction of two 40-ton Battlemechs. These Battlemechs are expected to embody characteristics of ruggedness, reliability, and simplicity in maintenance, drawing inspiration from existing Battlemech designs. The ambitious timeline mandates that these mechs be ready for initial trials within 12 months, showcasing a minimum of 35% parts compatibility with their original designs.
Participation in the competition is restricted to manufacturers that are wholly Federated Suns owned or aligned. Upon conclusion of the competition, the winning designs will be licensed out to three distinct Federated Suns-owned or aligned companies for mass production. The selected manufacturing companies must be strategically located in hard-to-raid areas, boasting a sufficiently large population to efficiently staff the production facilities.
While details regarding subsequent phases of the competition remain undisclosed, rumors circulating within the Inner Sphere suggest a potential "Second Phase" that might involve Combat Support Vehicles tailored for the Outback and Periphery Militias. This could include Tanks, Armored Personnel Carriers, and Missile Support Vehicles. There are also speculations about a prospective "Third Phase," possibly featuring a competition for aerial assets such as VTOLs and Conventional Aircraft.
As the premier news organization in the Inner Sphere, ComStar is dedicated to providing the public with comprehensive and up-to-date information on the Periphery Protection Initiative. Subscribers can stay informed through periodic updates offered as part of ComStar's "Quarterly Financial Series," available for a nominal fee of $25 C-Bills per month. Stay tuned as we unfold the intricacies of this groundbreaking initiative that promises to reshape the defense landscape of the Federated Suns."
"We're a few weeks behind schedule, but given the difficulties of traveling across the Inner Sphere, I don't think that Mister Corean will hold it against us," Ryana's light accent caressed Jacob Mason's ears as the man sipped at a steaming cup of instant coffee.
"I think that we'll be fine as well," The Commander sat the noteputer down on the table in the Leopard's small break room, "But honestly? I just want to set my feet onto some solid ground and experience real gravity- with a real night and day cycle that wasn't controlled by the light fixtures."
The woman let out a soft chuckle as she interlaced her fingers and raised her arms above her head to stretch out her shoulders, "I don't think you'll find any disagreements from the crew, Commander. We're all just a wee bit tired of the traveling lifestyle right now as well. Since we're a small unit we don't usually get long-term garrison contracts like these, and I think we'll all be happy with the change of pace."
"Besides, until Spears comes through with another target for us to hit we'd just be tooling around looking for work anyway," Jake rubbed his palm along the stubble coating his jaw, "Might as well make the most of it. Besides, it could be fun; I don't think I've ever had the pleasure of being the teacher before. Usually, it was mom or dad running me through drills in the sims."
The former Major snorted, a wry smirk on her lips as she lowered her arms and crossed them underneath her breasts, "I'm glad that aren't considering the hellish torture sessions you put our pilots through as 'training'."
"Hey, if they want to be among the best they got to train like the best," James shrugged as he leaned to the side a tossed an arm over the back of his chair, "It's no different than the training my father put me through. Galtor II, the Rickshaw Scorpion's Nest, the battle of Galitin."
"Jacob," Ryana replied warningly, "Those scenarios are meant to show the Mechwarrior that no matter how good of a pilot you are there will always be some battles that you cannot win on skill alone. That you managed to bestthem only shows that you're a freak of nature, and trying to hold everyone up to your standards will only lead to disappointment. If you hammer Arthur Corean's Security Forces into the ground then I am not certain if he'll be pleased; we're supposed to be trainingthem, not setting them up to fail."
A small bolt of confusion lanced up Jake's spine as he arched an eyebrow, "Why would that be 'setting them up for failure'? They're all Mechwarriors, aren't they?"
He watched Ryana's face go through a variety of expressions before she interlaced her fingers and placed them on top of the table, "Jacob. You are, without a doubt, one of the most exceptional pilots I have ever seen; even your father was surprised with how far you've come in such a short amount of time. I know I most certainly am... pleasantly surprised, mind you. However, in order to be diplomatic about this, the Mechwarriors you see in most Security Forces fall into three categories: Those who're a wee bitlong in the tooth and aren't as good as they once were, those who were never standouts at all in the units they served with and could never make the next grade, and those who were never in the service in the first place but were good enough to pass through a Mechwarrior academy."
She sucked at her teeth as she winced, "To be frank, Lieutenant Dawkins is one of the worst pilots we have, but even he was a stand-out Mechwarrior in his unit; if he didn't have such a problem with authority and 'stupid orders' as he so called it- and didn't punch his CO in the face- then he would have easily made Major in less than ten years. While he isn't nearly at your level, I'd place him in the Top 20th percentile of Mechwarriors in the Free Worlds League Militia, no easy feat, that."
"But Dawkins is..." James held his tongue at Ryana's long-suffering look, and he swallowed his words.
He was about this far from cutting Dawkins loose.
While James didn't have a problem with the guy's attitude problem, as he could handle it with no sweat, the guy was just not performing up to Mason's high standards: When he told his Lance to focus fire on a specific target, he expected the whole Lance to focusing fucking fire on a specific target.
No questions asked.
Bitch and complain after the fight was over about not getting the kill or salvage after the fighting was over.
Ryana held up a hand to the side of her head and scratched at her temple, "Besides Dawkin's inability to follow orders in stressful situations, the man is an exemplar of what the Inner Sphere considers a 'great' Mechwarrior; his performance speaks for itself. Mostly. However, you aren't going to be dealing with hardened, seasoned Mechwarriors, Mason. You're going to be dealing with the greenest of the green; those who either saw little combat or no combat at all. In the case of the older Mechwarriors, the combat they did see was at least decades ago."
Jake sighed and held his hands up, "Fine. Alright, Ryana. You win. I'll try to keep my expectations low. Though Mason's Marauders hasn't failed a mission yet, and after twelve years of kicking ass and taking names we're not gonna start now."
His XO smiled as she nodded, "Good. I think that Mister Corean will be pleased as long as there is a marked improvement in their performance; as long as they can competently defend their installation from most threats I think he'll be a very happy man. Now, there are a lot of things that we'll need to take care of once we make planetfall. Mister Corean has already set aside a hangar for us to park the Leopard at the Corean Manufacturing Complex, but we'll still need to land at the primary New Avalon Spaceport for an inspection-"
Jake sipped at his coffee as he let her words wash over him, the man just enjoying the simple pleasures in life, like having someone competent like Ryana handling all of the particulars while he handles the action.
Truly, Commander Jacob Mason wouldn't know what he'd do without Ryana Campbell by his side.
[Senior Engineer Harley Goodall]
[Corean Enterprises Complex, SCMF #2]
[New Avalon, New Avalon System; Federated Suns]
[October 28th, 3027]
The second of 36 Self-Contained Manufacturing Facilities was up and running, which was a huge step forward in the future of industrialization, but despite the thudding of anticipation in her heart Harley Goodall couldn't help but feel her teeth set on edge. She had been an engineer with Corean Enterprises for fifteen years now, having started under the tenure of Arthur Corean's father, and now with the son at the helm of the company, she knew that Corean was going to be at the very center of a revitalization of industry within the Inner Sphere.
It might not be for many decades, but she was certain that the Federated Suns would one day sit even higher than it had before the First Succession War kicked off and figuratively blasted them all back to the Stone Age.
Harley had a keen mind with an exceptionally meticulous work ethic to go along with it, and she was proud of herself because it caught the attention of Arthur Corean himself. He brought her and seventy-five other Corean employees into his Inner Circle and showed them everything he'd managed to glean about the Valkyrie's Star League-era Automated Manufacturing Line. It was a treasure trove of knowledge and insight, one that she and her fellow engineers, coders, technicians, and scientists on the team were more than happy to consume.
It was during the last thirteen months of hard work, sleepless nights, and frustration that she had finally gotten to meet the man in person, or at least on a more personal level. She could see why people found him intimidating, with his piercing ice-blue eyes, blank expression, and cutting critiques, but having spent some time around him she could see that it wasn't out of distance or malice... it was because while everyone else was moving at a leisurely walk his mind was always sprinting toward the horizon.
His mind firing on all cylinders to crunch problems that would have most of their kind reaching for the nearest bottle.
More than a few times she'd found herself staring at schematics on her sketch board, the woman puzzling over how to solve the latest issue that came across her desk, and the man would casually lean over her shoulder- he really didn't have any concept of personal space- and make a few off-hand comments and suggestions before moving on to the next person in their section who looked like they were about to suck-start their Needle pistol.
The thing that galled her the most as an engineer was that, usually, his solutions were rather simple and easy to enact, and for the problems more complex he was able to create workarounds seemingly on the fly that either circumvented the problem entirely... or at least broke the problem into smaller, easier bits to digest. Some of them were so utterly banal that only a lackwit would think of it, but for an engineer who liked to create complex solutions for simple problems?
'If the support columns for the building are getting in the way of the waldos... instead of making multi-jointed waldos to work around the columns, why not just... shift this section of the line forward ten meters? It isn't like we don't have 500 meters worth of space within each floor of the SCMF. No need to try and make everything as compact as possible.'
As part of the Automation Team, it was their job to take all of the knowledge and instruction Arthur Corean provided and make it simple, replicable, and economical.
This was their first true test: automate the Corean Agristar Agricultural Robot line before Christmas.
However given that everyone was already well trained by their corporate environment, that meant that they needed to have it fully automated by the end of the month so that they could use November to stress test, and the weeks leading up to Christmas for refining.
Considering their boss had come up with the designs for the new robot, wrote the computer code for them, redesigned the sensors, created the implements for the robot's modular tool system, and did all of that within eight months of getting his hands on boneyard of broken down Agri-Robots with only a few working examples to examine? The pressure was incredibly high for the Automation Team.
'Oh, yeah, let's not forget that he did all of that while setting up the foundation for his new duchy and without all of the tools and computers he usually had at his disposal within Corean,' Harley thought to herself as she rolled her eyes, the woman using her thumb to brush her dark bangs out of her face; the hard hat and reflective vest she wore were not really flattering, but they were a necessity when working around any sort of machinery.
Idly she turned her attention to one of the four 200-ton lifts, her eyes laser-focused on the Andosteel chassis that was being carried to the start of the automated manufacturing line on a motorized dolly; bins filled with parts and components trailing along behind it. Given that this was the first test run, everything would be hand-delivered to the machinery at each station, though in the final product rows of conveyors would move the Agri-robot's constituent pieces to their proper stations without the need for any human input. Someone had proposed running the conveyors along the ceiling, but thankfully the Project Lead, Uhler Masterson, shot that down; not only did it add needless complexity, something the CEO did not want, but if the conveyors weren't at ground level where the oversight teams could easily see then that only introduced failure points.
K.I.S.S was an old, old acronym that Arthur Corean had dug up from some crypt somewhere, but as dusty and crusty as it was, the words 'Keep It Simple Stupid' were the words that the Automation Team strived to live by. Even if there was an inherent, high level of complexity due to the nature of their task, that didn't mean that everything needed to be complex. Sometimes simple cable winches with bulletproof electric motors were all that was needed to make a particular section of the assembly line run; the complexity would be in the sensors, cameras, and the heavily black-boxed automation computer stacks that would run the programs.
"Oh, God," She hissed out unwittingly as she watched the first pair of waldos reach out toward the Andosteel frame of the glorified tractor, "We're doing it."
Visible lasers, infrared lasers, low-impulse lidar, and a bevy of optical cameras guided the grasping claws down to take hold of the foamed metal frame and- her mind stuttered as she heard the sound of rubber grindingover ice.
"STOP! STOP! STOP!" A voice roared out and someone slapped the big red button.
"Who calibrated 'de pressure sensors for dis!? Who!? Which son of a whore didn't calibrate 'de waldos for 'de line!?" With his white lab coat billowing behind him, the coal-black face of Uhler Masterson was twisted in fury as he strode toward the waldos and frame, his thick Jamaican accent filling the air, "Dis' supposed to be a 'lift and carry', not a grip! LIFT. AND. CARRY! 'Dere be no 'Grip' at all! Fuck!"
The entire group had gathered around the waldos once they had returned to their starting positions and were powered down; other than some crunching of the outer layers of the foamed metal there didn't appear to be any damage. It shouldn't be damaged, not with the strength of it, but Uhler was correct; there was nothing on this line that needed to have anything be gripped or held in place. The frame goes onto the line and everything is added to it with little holding action needed; the 2.5 tons frame was more than enough to keep it steady during component installation.
Out of the corner of her eye, she could see one of the more junior of their number- John Paul (but call me J.P.)- hiding his face behind his noteputer, a string of curses flowing from his lips that were barely audible over the ranting and cursing of the Project Lead.
"How is 'de Bossman supposed to trust us to automate 'Mech lines if we cannot even get 'de Agri-Robot line correct!?"
In the meanwhile, the team that had helped Arthur Corean design, code, and build the Agristar robot- some low-level engineers and graduate students from New Avalon U- were looking rather bummed that they might not see their hard work take the first few metaphorical steps into reality.
That was when the Bossman came riding up on a little golf kart with noteputer in hand, "Uhler, no need to get stressed about it, we can fix this. Let's just get me connected and I'll enter the proper parameters-"
Arthur Corean's piercing eyes lanced right out at John Paul, "-and J.P. can copy these over into the rest of the line. I rescheduled my afternoon to be here for this, and I'm not leaving until I see a bare frame and components go in one end and a complete Agristar Robot come out of the other."
At this point Harley wasn't certain who looked like they wanted to crawl up into a hole and die more- J.P. or Uhler Masterson.
Well, better them than her; she handled the sensors and made sure they were properly set up the first time. If there were to be any more slow-downs or hiccups it wouldn't be from her area of responsibility.
[???]
[New Aragon]
[3015]
It was utter chaos.
As Battlemechs fought across the facility, buildings crumbling and burning down around them, a Capellan Death Commando held a lone Federated Suns Mechwarrior at gunpoint; the flickering flames highlighted the black armor the woman wore which contrasted the soot-stained Davion green dress uniform he wore. At his feet was another Death Commando, and it had been readily obvious that there was a physical struggle between the two, but Commando's cause of death hadn't been the Federated Sun's Officer.
No.
The corpse had a neat hole at the base of his neck where the armor didn't quite cover the vitals of his large frame, and the bullet that killed him came from the barrel of the rifle that the female Death Commando currently had trained on him.
"Hey," She spoke slowly, her voice distorted by the vocalizer on her helmet, "You someone important?"
The young man swept a hand over the sweat-soaked dark hair of his face, "Why do you wish to know, Capellan?"
His caution was warranted, but with his Needle pistol underneath the corpse and no cover, there wasn't any feasible way he would survive this encounter with one of Maximilian Liao's hardened killers. Not without some highly improbable intervention from a friendly AFFS soldier.
"I want to know because I don't like Confederation. Or Death Commandos,"The woman lowered the rifle just a touch, "If you important then I tell you the strategy and goal. We thwart this raid. But I want help living in Federated Suns."
Off in the distance, he could hear a six-pack of SRMs firing off, along with the screams of the men and women who were unfortunate enough to be caught just outside of its lethal radius.
In that moment, the AFFS Officer made a decision that would change two lives for forever, "Well then, in that case, allow me to welcome you to the AFFS..."
"Ming," The woman spoke, a hand coming up to remove the helmet from her head to reveal beautiful Capellan features, her raven hair short and almost shaved down her to scalp, "Lingling Ming. Former... Leftenant of 1st Company, Death Commandos."
Spoiler: Lingling Ming
"Leftenant Ardan Sortek," The young AFFS Officer gave her a strained smile, "A pleasure. Now if I may?"
He gestured to the Commando's weapon discarded a few paces away, and she nodded, "Okay. Quickly. We must hurry. Objective for raid is Allen Humbold; he betray Chancellor Liao, defect to Federated Suns. Chancellor wishes him dead."
"Best to leave the helmet off, Leftenant Ming," the Officer cautioned, "Even if you're with me I highly doubt they won't shoot at us on sight, but at least with your helmet off it should give them some pause."
Death Commandos were faceless instruments of the Chancellor's will, after all; what use did they have for things like identity?
She simply smiled as she followed after him, the woman unflinching as they ran out of the collapsed building they were in and toward the nearest command post where the good AFFS Lieutenant could relay their goals, "Okay. You help me find nice husband, Lieutenant Ardan Sortek?"
"Yes, yes," He said distractedly as he pressed himself against the nearest wall and peered around the corner, "It's a promise."
He was too focused to see her smile brightly.
It was a promise she soon wouldn't let him forget.
[3016]
"Ardan, have you found me nice husband?"
[3018]
"Ardan. That man we just met, is he available?"
[3019]
"Congratulations on your Excalibur Medal, Ardan. Maybe if you show it off more you can scare me up a nice husband?"
[3020]
"Ardan! How am I supposed to find nice husband if you keep dragging me on all of these dangerous adventures!?"
"Will you just shoot the damn Catapult, Lingling!?"
[3021]
"Ardan-"
[3022]
"Ardannnnn~"
[3023]
"What was wrong with Captain Stohfeld?"
"He thought I was Capellan female stereotype."
"You aren't?"
"Oh I am, but he wasn't looking for a Mistress or a wife. He just want fun. I have goals, Ardan. Priorities. I can't find a nice husband if I have a reputation for being a loose woman."
"God above, woman. I'll... ask around. There has to be someone who can take you off of my hands..."
[3025]
"Ardan... uuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuu..." Lingling Ming sniffed as she drunkenly snuffled into the crook of his neck, the poor man doing his best to comfort a woman that he had once thought impervious to any form of damage- be it a setback in her search for love or enemy Autocannon fire.
He gently patted her back as he did his best to ignore the tears and snot soaking into the collar of his dress uniform, "It was the Death Commandobit, wasn't it?"
"Uh-huh," She shuddered in his arms, "It was the Death Commandos that killed his uncle on Lee. When I told him that I was once a Commando he looked like he wanted to poop his pants and strangle me. It was scary. I thought Philip was a good one."
It was terrible. Heartwrenching, really, to see his long-time friend and companion so broken up by this, but the mental image of Stone-Faced Philip looking like he wanted to soil his trousers was too much for him to bear.
When he started to snicker she pinched his sides, "Why didn't you warn me about his Uncle, Ardan!?"
"Ha-how am I supposed to know about that!?"
[December 12th, 3026]
"Aaaaarrrrrddddaaaaaaannnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnn~," The woman's beautiful, sing-songy voice would have normally been carried on a frigid wind- like the dark foreboding of ill portents, but not this time.
Ardan Sortek looked up from his computer terminal as the Capellan Major slunk into his office, but before she could continue he stole the march, "I've found someone I think you would be perfect for, Lingling."
The woman eyed him suspiciously as she settled herself into the chair in front of his desk, "I don't believe you, Ardan."
He winced, "Well, it's true. It's just that the Prince has orders for us, so it might be some time before you two actually get to meet..."
Her narrow eyes and tight expression melted away as she smiled beatifically, "Okay! Tell me all about him, Ardan~! Inquiring Linglings wish to know more!"
Leftenant Colonel Ardan Sortek let out a gusting breath as he felt, for the first time in a long time, some semblance of hope. Not just for himself, but for Lingling Ming as well.
The woman had sacrificed much for the Federated Suns, her dark past notwithstanding, and he felt that she deserved a small slice of happiness for it.
Maybe she and Arthur Corean can be the match made in Hell that they were meant to be.
"Well, he's smart. An insufferably smart prat."
"Ooooohhh, I like smart men," She rested her cheek against her fist, "Go on. Is a nice man? Would he be good to me?"
"For a given measure of the word 'nice'. He isn't mean-spirited or cruel if that's what you're asking. He's just a ponce. To me specifically."
"Oh, so we have that in common then," Her grin became Chesire in nature, "He wealthy?"
"Obscenely."
"Oooohhhhh Arrrddaaaannnn~, Lingling takes back all of the nasty mean things she said about you in the mess hall with the boys~!"
Ardan flinched.
Yes, the sooner he could shove her into Arthur Corean's arms the better
Powerful men and women in the Inner Sphere have Mistresses and Misters. The Magistrix of Canopus has her harem of boy toys, much to the dismay of her husband. But most see showing off their Mistress or Mister in poor taste. Arthur wouldn't care, mainly because even in a social setting he's crunching numbers while his wife and mistress handle all of the non-business related social stuff for him. Or Samantha does. Lingling is internally giggling about how she is a kept woman of a powerful, smart, wealthy man who is good to her.
In Battletech there exists a 'Female Capellan Stereotype', one that exists because it is very real. In Capellan society you can see that upward mobility is virtually impossible for even citizens (of which the vast majority are Servitor Slaves), and men have only service to the military and industry to advance while women have an alternative method to reaching higher than their station. Finding a good and powerful husband is a cultural standby that every good 'Caretaker of the State's Property' (thats what 'mothers' and 'fathers' are in the eyes of the State), and as every good Caretaker of State Property, they want what is best for their offspring, even after they prove their loyalty to the Chancellor and dedicate their lives in service to the state. One of these methods being to stand out and catch the eye of someone higher up in the social ladder than them.
Lingling Ming sqwaked all of the right sqwaks to get her citizenship, and she tested high enough to join the Mechwarrior academy, where she faced nonstop discrimination from the Warrior Houses for daring to step into their domain as a mere common citizen. From there she managed to perform well as an Urbanmech pilot on the FWL front, having seven Mech kills with her A/C-20 to her name, which led her to catching the Colonel of her unit's eye, and he offered her a most auspicious opportunity to become his Mistress. The problem was that he had seven other Mistresses, and she didn't want to be number eight. She would be fine being second or maybe third mistress, but number eight?
So when she refused, politely and most humbly, the Colonel didn't take it without slight, so he 'promoted' her (read: banished her) to and sent her off to join the Chancellor's Death Commandos where she would either survive the training and bring him face or she would die and be thusly punished for her disgrace. She survived, through sheer spite, and bided her time before she could find a good chance to defect. So when she found Ardan she saw the one chance she had at freedom and took it.
The freedom was the true prize, but seeing the sort of man Ardan is she also couldn't pass up the opportunity to harass him endlessly about the promise he made distractedly many years ago to help her find a nice Federated Suns gentleman of sufficient wealth and standing to marry. Because she's had to live a life where a sense of humor is most useful when it is empty (unless you were of sufficient rank to be issued one by the Chancellor) she enjoys being able to be a troll and not have to worry about being pushed up against a wall for the disrespect. A bit of harmless fun and bonding between two unlikely friends who met in the middle of a Capellan Death Commando raid to kill a traitor to the Confederation.