"The Menagerie at Twycross", Part 1

  • Date: April 13, 3050
  • Planet: Twycross
  • Location: 'The Sand Devil's Storm' Bar
  "Hey, it's time for another round. So you all know the way we do this!" The militia 'MechWarrior was already drunk, thunking his mug down heavily. "Coin check!" There were laughs from the fellows as everyone reached into their pockets. She beat them to it, sauntering over with her own drink and slapping her coin down on the table. Everyone stopped and stared, their expressions flickering between anger at the intrusion and awe at what they saw after her hand lifted.

It was a dull grey coin made from salvaged scrap, originally, but inscribed on the surface was the unit symbol of an old pillar cap in gold over a blue-and-white field. Around the edge of the face there were silver letters reading 'Priam Company'. The militia members tensed or relaxed depending on whether they were veterans or rookies, as the mercenary outfit had been on Twycross for decades by now.

"If we're going to tell stories, kids, I got one worth at least a drink." The speaker was an olive-skinned woman with chin-length dark hair. Hair which was now going grey in small measures, leaving more of an accent than anything. When nobody else spoke, she straightened up. "See, there was this planet nobody cared about on the fringes between FedCom and the Combine. Called White Reach, terrible name for a planet but who am I to say? We hit the ground running, no clue of what was going on, just six of us and six of them. Only on our side the biggest thing we had was an old BattleMaster."

One of the younger militia dorks snorted, leaning back on his barstool. "Yeah? What'd they have, an Atlas?" His friend next to him drove her elbow into his ribs.

"Yeah, actually. And an Awesome." The militia members stopped and stared, as her other hand tapped the bottom of her empty glass in it. "Shoot me a PPC1 and I'll tell the story, kids. You'll love it." Her grin widened as they glanced at each other.

"Look, merc." One of the older veterans pointed, her face scrunched up. "I know you're drinking your paycheck away, but don't think you can drink ours too. We work for our pay, honest work and not blood money." Eyes darted between the two women, and a couple of the more sober militia members backed away from the table.

The mercenary tugged at her jacket, a heavy blue fabric with one arm entirely a dusty white, lacking the usual unit patches. "What's your name, ma'am?" She gave respect casually, standing in a loose stance which was either speaking to how many drinks she'd had or how little she was intimidated.

"Holly."

"Well, Holly, I'm Olivia Garrido. And you soft-bellied militia morons wouldn't know real work if it bit you." The olive-skinned woman flashed a grin, finger tapping at her chest. "I fought the snakes when they pushed this far in the Third War, and I damn well remember the militia being useless back then. If you're an example of what we've got protecting us now?" Her finger stabbed into the table hard enough to be heard. "You better be grateful we're stationed here."

The tension had been rising since Olivia had started speaking, Holly's expression darkening and her muscles tightening as if she was preparing to throw a punch. "That long ago? You're just another fossil living in the glory days." Her eyes were fixed on the other woman's eyes, steel grey resolve against unflinching brown depths.

The mercenary shrugged her shoulders, but her gaze didn't waver. "Glory days are always available, you just need to know where to find them." Her lips curled into a smile, and her palm rested over her coin. "Ain't you heard about the stuff going down out in coreward Periphery space?"

"Pirates. Just pirates with crazy ugly 'Mechs pieced together from scrap. They're nothing to worry about, not with us militia folk keeping watch. And we don't even ask to be paid before we get out of bed." A ripple of nervous laughter ran through the crowd.

Olivia didn't laugh. She'd just gotten the intel reports forwarded from the Lyran Intelligence Corps, detailing encounters on Erewhon and Anywhere. She'd seen the raw data included, with a personalized note telling her to pay close attention to the 'Mech specs. She'd been hearing stories ever since as more and more people were fleeing towards the heart of the Federated Commonwealth. Ever since White Reach, she knew better than to mock an enemy she hadn't met.

And her attention snapped back to realize more militia members had stepped up around the table to take the place of those which had left. All of them were holding drinks, most of those bottles which were mostly empty. "So you want to play big bad wolf and huff and puff, girl, you're in the wrong bar. This is our spot."

"Yeah? I was First Lyran Regulars before I was a 'lowly' merc." Olivia slid the coin off the table into her pocket, not wanting to lose it. They'd never let her live it down if she did. "Better think twice."

A man wearing a leather jacket leaned in behind her, his breath smelling like stale beer as he spoke to her ear. "Key word there? 'Was'. Washed up, washed out, or thrown out?"

She turned her head slowly, now sporting a fake smile. "Wanna find out? Keep talking, big guy. Can tell you're not a 'Mech jock, you're too fat to fit the seat." His eyes narrowed, and Olivia slid her foot back slightly to brace herself. "But what can I expect, you're militia. Bet the only time you see action is when you can't get a date and have to work off the frustration."

"Oh you-" He swung at her, and she ducked aside as her fist came up swiftly into his stomach. She heard him gasp out the air in his lungs, and now her arm came back to drive upwards so the heel of her hand smacked his jaw closed. He hit the floor after those two blows, letting out muffled shrieks as he'd nipped the edge of his tongue in the process.

"Hey!" A cheery shout came from the entrance, and a shorter woman with black hair stood in the doorway. Her jacket was just like Olivia's, only with a patch on the right shoulder showing a winged horse. She clapped her hands together together and grinned broadly. "Commander, you didn't have to get me a present! I was just coming to find you, but I'm bored enough to jump in."

"Don't need it, Kelly, thanks."

Kelly laughed, a high-pitched giggle. "Didn't ask if you needed it, boss." Her voice took on a sing-song quality as she bounced on the balls of her feet. The militia now had frozen in place, watching the shorter woman warily. "Oh hey, you already got Kevin! Damn, his glass jaw's still a thing huh?"

"Glass- oh no." The militia woman who started this suddenly paled. "You're that Kelly? Kelly Sedda?"

"Oh hey, you remember me! That's good!" She was now almost dancing on her toes as she moved through the crowd. Wherever she went, people got out of her way, and Olivia knew why. "You bothering my boss, Pam?"

"No, we were just going to buy her a drink. Weren't we Gus?" She looked to her right, and the man there was fishing in his pocket for some crumpled C-Bills. "No trouble, Kelly."

"Aw." Kelly was standing next to Olivia now, and reached over to pluck the C-Bills out of Gus' hand. "You're going to be boring again. I hate boring." Her grin now was toothy, eyes sizing up those around the table. "Good news is I don't have time to deal with you, I came to fetch the Commander." Her gaze turned upwards to Olvia. "Otto says new recruits start testing tomorrow. Your presence is requested and required. His words, not mine."

"Right, right. I remember." Olivia ran a hand at her face, and sighed. Paperwork, she really hated dealing with the paperwork. "Well, time to sober up. Work calls."

"Oh, before I go-" Kelly leaned across the table and grabbed Pam by the wrist, pulling the taller woman over with that toothy grin on full display. "This is for bothering my boss. And being boring." Her hand twisted, dislocating the wrist with a practiced motion and listening to the scream. "I'll be back to play some other day, Pam. Gotta even up the score, right?"

Olivia turned, and as the bartender looked her direction she tapped Kelly's shoulder over the unit insignia, mouthing 'put it on our tab'. Out in the street, Kelly was already heading down the street and humming to herself. "Did Otto really send you to get me?"

Kelly stopped to hop on alternating feet for a few strides. "Weird question, boss. I wouldn't have come if he didn't."

"Yes, you would have. It's your usual night out, and I'm guessing that's your favorite bar."

The shorter woman tossed her head, a skunk-stripe of white catching the starlight. "Naw. This is my second favorite, my favorite's still closed down from last week's brawl." She giggled, and stretched her arms. "Have to keep in practice, you know, since we don't have a contract right now." She stopped, hands on her hips as she looked up at Olivia. "It's getting boring, boss."

The words made Olivia shudder a bit inside, but she just smiled back. "Working on it. If the rumors are true, trouble's going to find us soon anyway." The odd invaders were not just pirates, and they were continually pushing in from the coreward Periphery across the Rasalhague borders too. Official news was harder to come by, but unofficially there were dozens of systems which had fallen already since March. Whomever these invaders were, they were organized and not simply pirate raiders. Pirate raiders didn’t stick around or move deeper into the Inner Sphere.

Kelly had resumed walking already, hands behind her back and her stride possessing a fluid grace which brought to mind a feline stalking prey. "That's good. Think I'll get another chance to get an Atlas skull?"

"Real sorry there, Kelly, but ‘Cú Sedda’ wouldn't stand a chance in a fight-"

"Well I wouldn't know, because I never got a shot at an Atlas!" This made both chuckle a bit, Kelly's attention back inside her own mind as they kept walking. They were departing the cluster of bars and shops, now moving through squat single-level buildings which were made to withstand the storms on Twycross. Most residents lived underground in the tunnels, but the lower-income families lived on the surface and dealt with the windstorms.

'Lower class people and mercenaries,' Olivia amended to herself, 'because we're not worth the expense of digging it out.' Salmacis Base was only partly underground, due to the expense of tunneling out the loose sandy soil. And yet the previous commander had made it important to at least sink the living quarters one level down. Olivia could almost hear his voice, proclaiming this was to be the legacy of Priam Company - valuing the people over equipment. Treating them like they mattered, instead of replaceable parts. Even if touches of that attitude had crept in towards the end of the White Reach campaign...

Kelly was saying something and Olivia snapped back to the present. "Sorry, Kelly, I had a bit too much to drink. What did you say?"

"I said it's too bad he's not here to see you doing his job." The shorter woman almost looked serious as she glanced up. "You know he'd be tickled to see you handling it well, even if you hate it."

"Why bring that up?"

She shrugged, flipping a knife in her hand and catching the point between her index and middle fingers. How long had she been doing that? Given the slight nick Olivia could spot on the inside of the fingers, probably a while. "You looked like you needed cheering up, and it's a little late to go find another fight."

Olivia forced a smile, and nodded slowly. "Well. Thanks for the thought, Kelly. But we should get back to bed and get started fresh tomorrow. Who knows what trouble's on the horizon."

"Sandstorms and drunks."

"That's behind us now."

Kelly hid a yawn behind her hand, the knife vanishing somewhere into her clothing. Olivia never knew where she was keeping them, and she wasn't sure she wanted to know. "If you walk long enough, what's behind you will be ahead of you again. Just think on that, boss."  
  It was that dream again...

In the dream, she was standing in front of a massive desk of real wood and keeping her eyes down. Behind the desk loomed a presence, a figure whose unblinking eyes were watching. The voice was not quite as she remembered it, but recognizable through the distortion. "You do realize what you're volunteering for? You'll be raising her alone."

Olivia shook her head, hands clasped behind her back. "It's better than the alternative. Besides, I'll find people to help... nobody will let a child go without."

"You mean nobody should."

She couldn't look up to meet those eyes, she knew what she'd be looking at. She didn't want to look. "I meant what I said."

There was a long sigh, and a creak as the figure leaned back in their chair. "... I can see what I can do to help. But you're going to need to be quiet about where she came from. Nobody can find out, or all 'this' starts coming apart at the seams." Indeed, as Olivia glanced around there were cracks in the wood paneling, dust filtering down from parts of the ceiling. Lights flickering in the wall sockets, sometimes changing color to red.

She hated dreaming of this. She hated knowing she was dreaming, even as the scene continued to play out. "Setting terms, are you?" Knowing what she knew now, she winced at the undeserved frustration, at the sharp tone of the words.

A second sigh, much louder than the first. The presence leaned forward again, as the voice grew softer. "I merely want to be clear about this. I'm not your enemy."

"You're not exactly a friend, either."

"... perhaps not. Have you thought of a name?"

Olivia straightened up, and looked at the ceiling where the lights had flickered out and didn’t come back on. "Sofia. I always liked it. It was my grandmother's name."

"Very well." The figure stood, looming over the 'MechWarrior, an indistinct shape which stared down with unreadable eyes. Olivia finally met those eyes, a warm brown color like the soil when she was younger. Memories of home, memories of escaping to find her way in the Inner Sphere at large. Memories of when she told her mother exactly where her daughter was going, and what she could do about it. "Congratulations, Olivia Garrido. You're now a mother."
 
  • Date: April 14, 3050
  • Location: Salmacis Base, Training Hall
  The simulation units in the room were occupied by eight figures, plugged into the systems and running a training program to test their aptitude. Most outfits ran their recruits through patrols, or simulated-fire exercises which relied on powering down the lasers and paint-based munitions. The old commander preferred not to do that, and had cooked up an arrangement of BattleMech control suites attached to controls and tapped into neurohelmets. The end result was not as effective as live experience, but it proved effective in finding out who had lied on their recruitment forms.

Olivia was scowling as she watched the results tallied on the scoreboards, thinking the answer was "all of them", for the first time she could recall. She heard boots approaching and looked over to see a taller woman walking up, wearing the faded blue fatigues and a scowl. "'MechWarrior Garrido." She kept her tone level, despite a pang of worry.

"Commander." The taller woman folded her arms behind her and looked into the training room. "I am guessing they are not going to pass muster."

The commander glanced over briefly, before looking back through the window. "That's my call, not yours." She tried to keep annoyance out of her voice but the sharp inhale said this was a failure. "Are you here about your Lance assignment?"

"I am." There was a long uncomfortable silence, before the 'MechWarrior spoke quieter. "You're shipping me to Minos?"

"That's where the training Lance is headed, now that we had to pull them from Anywhere last year. You'll be fine, Sofia, it's mostly just hunting down pirates and malcontents who are second-generation rebels." Olivia made a throwing gesture with her hand. "And I don't expect my 'MechWarriors to come to me to complain about their assignments like I'll change my mind."

"I'm not complaining about that-"

"It sounded like you were."

Sofia straightened her back again and frowned, eyes narrowing. "Commander, I should be here." She hesitated, and her eyes dropped aside. "With you."

"I'm not having this conversation."

"Comma-"

Olivia turned around and lowered her voice as she looked up at the taller woman. "I'm your commanding officer, not your mother. Not after you signed the recruitment forms and decided to be a part of my outfit." She had reasons for doing this, and it wasn't to keep Sofia safely at the rear lines. It was because she didn't think it was wise to keep as many people here as they were. "Arete Lance will be your best bet to success."

Sofia had a wary expression, before speaking again. "I've looked over the organizational charts. We don't have a Lance called that."

"We did, and we broke it up to run two training Lances a couple years back. That didn't turn out so well. So I'm going to reform it by reorganizing what we have. You're on the list not because I want you out of my sight, but because I expect you to shine." She gently put a hand on Sofia's forearm, and squeezed gently. "And I want you doing it where people don't have me around to compare you to."

"Yeah, right." Sofia snorted, amusement dancing in her brown eyes. "Half the stories are obviously made up. Like them saying you blew the hip off a moving Centurion at long range, in the dark, with a PPC." The smirk faded as Olivia simply tilted her head. "You can't make a shot like that! "

"You don't have to take my word for it." The commander spread her arms out, and took a half-bow. "The battle recordings are all stored here in the system. You want the one titled 'Moonlight Marathon'2."

Sofia was quiet for a long moment, and then shook her head. "Commander, I would rather join Xiphos Lance."

"Xiphos Lance is a heavy battle lance, and I send them into rough patches. Repeatedly. I don't normally assign fresh recruits to the front lines. They don't tend to last long enough to collect a paycheck."

"Mother-"

"Commander." Olivia corrected through her teeth. "If others heard you call me that, they'd cry favoritism." Sofia's eyes narrowed in annoyance, before Olivia held up a hand. "You'll get your wish, but you're going to replace Keith in the Centurion.” The one she’d bagged with that shot, in fact, and hauled back as proof. “It'll be the best fit for you, it's a solid piece of equipment and you know how to use the autocannon."

Sofia brought herself up to an approximation of attention, grinning broadly. "You won't regret this, commander."

'No, I am going to regret this. I just don't know how yet.' Olivia squashed the voice inside, and nodded once towards the exit. "Dismissed. Report to Lance Commander Raster before sundown." She turned around to watch one of the hopefuls fail to notice someone behind them, and wind up face-down in the dirt. "All right, now I know the Kowalski kid can't hack it. Let’s see who else is the biggest loser today." She muttered to herself quietly.
 

Footnotes

1. This refers to a drink 'MechWarriors joke about. It's four shots of grain alcohol, plus two shots of something else to dilute it. The exact alcohol used depends on where in the Inner Sphere you order it, partially for factional credibility and partially because of availability. Almost no real 'Mechwarrior would actually drink these due to the alcohol content, but the idea remains to use on rookies. Or idiots.
2. Despite what Sofia thinks, this did actually happen in a tabletop session. Olivia scored an impressive called shot to the leg of a fleeing Centurion BattleMech and crippled it. (LINK)

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