Drop Zone Alpha,

Einstein, Deep Periphery,

2^nd March 3068

 

The Nile landed safely, and the various mercs on board had disembarked from the dropship through its immense bay doors. The Wolf Dragoons company were the first out, moving their mechs out quickly and establishing a perimeter around the dropship for security. The Raiders company were the next to move out.

The landing zone was 4 kilometers from their designated neutrino trace site. Edged on three sides by dense forest, the location conveyed a sense of safety. Sensors were placed in the forest, while sentries were deployed on the one side not bounded by forest. The possible Star League base location was also in that direction.

In barely an hour’s time, the mercenaries have set up a small camp around the thirty-story tall dropship. Many of them were extremely pleased to be on solid ground again, and just as many were glad to be free of the draining 1.5 G they had to endure on the trip in system.

Frank Meronac was one of the latter, and he was collecting soil and air samples for analysis to check for local bacteria and viruses on his own initiative, in his role as the dropship doctor. With him was Kily Gonzalez, the reckless young mercenary and Deserk, who had just finished his initial patrol sweep in his Black Hawk. The two had managed to come to a truce over the past few days, mostly due to Frank’s efforts and his fervent wish not to patch up Kily again.

Unfortunately for Frank, Kily was trying to drag him away from his work, and it was getting on his nerves. "Hey Frank, lighten up! The air smells great, they say there’s a freshwater stream a klick south from here with fish in it, and even the weather’s great! Nobody said you have to do this analysis bullshit. Just relax and enjoy this world. This feels like a vacation!"

Deserk, as ever, was quick to rebut Kily. "Only you can treat this like a vacation when everybody else is preparing to strike out for the nearest base site. And besides, what Frank is doing is extremely important. When the Great Father led our people to the Pentagon worlds, many died during the initial landings on one world because they were not prepared for the native diseases. On an unknown world without any people, there is no telling what kinds of diseases are present. There are some threats you can never see, and some of them are more dangerous than any mech. Who knows, what he’s doing could save your worthless freebirth life one of these days." Deserk grinned darkly at Kily as he said this.

"I wonder why the Captain hasn’t got us moving towards the site yet. Setting up a camp seems to be a waste of time. We could just use the dropship as a base while we’re on this rock." Frank wanted to sigh as he heard Kily trying to hide his ignorance by changing the topic.

Frank, who had been silent throughout the exchange, as he dug up samples from the soil and sealed the soil in plastic bags, spoke, "The camp is for any quick deployment of our combat units. How long did it take for all of us to get off the dropship?"

Kily thought about it a moment, then replied, "About thirty minutes."

"That’s right, thirty minutes moving out from the dropship bay doors, with only a few possible exits. Any units moving out would be heavily outnumbered in the case of an attack against our position. We will be picked off piecemeal by any attackers if we had stayed in the Nile. By establishing a camp, we improve our response times to any attack and can concentrate our force more easily."

Deserk was impressed on hearing Frank’s explanation. The man may only be a doctor and a rookie mechwarrior, but he had a keen mind that could dissect bodies and situations equally well. He was amazed that Frank had trained to be a doctor instead of being a soldier, which he was obviously well-suited for.

Kily rolled his eyes and flung up his hands. "Attack? What attack? There ain’t anybody on this rock to make an attack. This place is deserted, remember?"

"Well then, what about the other mercs, or even pirate bands that may be hiding out here somewhere? You can never be too sure, and its safer to be prepared for the worst." Frank continued, "Kily, aren’t you supposed to help set up the camp? So go and do some real work and stop bothering me. I don’t know why, but I have a bad feeling about this whole thing."

Deserk laughed, "Nobody wants this fool around. He will only end up thrashing whatever they were trying to set up. I suspect Captain Vansen feels sorry he ever tried to hire this boy as a mechwarrior."

"Oh yeah? I’ll have you know I am currently twenty years old. I am no longer a boy. And Captain Vansen hired me because I’m one of the best Commando pilots around. What about you? You’re over thirty now, and still only a lowly mechwarrior. Don’t put on any airs. You’re just as lousy as they come." An indignant Kily retorted.

"I have fought more battles than you have dreamed of, boy. Throughout the invasion, Luthien, the Dragoon civil war, Coventry, I have survived terrible battles, with no quarter asked or given. How many real battles have you been in?”

Kily snorted. “And look where all that has gotten you. You’re just a lowly trooper.”

Deserk nodded. “Once I might have aspired to rise to high rank, to gain a bloodname and bring glory and honor to my clan and bloodline, but no longer. I have realized that my destiny does not lie in that direction. Instead, I have found my own family, and a way to pass on my genes to the next generation. What need have I of the trappings of fame and rank any more?"

Frank was surprised. "The Dragoons have accepted your genes into their breeding system? I thought they did that only for those with bloodnames or honornames."

"No, the Dragoons have not taken my seed into the gene pool. I have opted for a more, uhm, traditional means of reproduction." An acutely embarrassed Deserk admitted.

It took Frank and Kily only moments before they figured out what Deserk was talking about, and they laughed heartily at his revelation. Kily was laughing so hard he seemed to have difficulty breathing.

"I can’t believe it! A clanner actually got to do the birds and the bees! We must be corrupting you more than we thought." A wheezing Kily exclaimed.

"So, who’s the lucky girl?" a grinning Frank asked, "Do your lancemates know about this?"

"She is a mechwarrior in Alpha regiment, and yes, my lancemates know and have been hassling me ever since." Deserk confessed, "I had never thought I would have ended up starting a normal, well, freeborn family when I was captured by the Dragoons on Luthien. Amazing what the vagaries of life can do to you. She was on pregnancy leave when last I saw her, four months ago when we left Outreach. She should be about to give birth at the Harlech hospital any time soon. Damn! I did not want to come on this trip, but duty is always more important than even blood."

"Don’t worry about the birth. Medical technology nowadays is capable of miracles. A simple pregnancy isn’t a problem for the doctors at Harlech." Frank assured his friend, giving him a friendly pat on the shoulder, "I should know, I worked there for a short while before I got hired by Captain Vansen. Trust me, your child and the mother will be fine."

"You telling us," Kily inquired, surprised, "that you delivered babies before?"

"I’m a doctor, and trained in surgery. I have done deliveries before. A great experience, bringing a new life into the world. Deserk, it’s a real shame you can’t be present for the birthing of your child, but you can always make up for it when we get back to Outreach."

"If we make it back." Deserk seemed dubious at that prospect, remembering the visions from his dreams. "I have some doubts, you see, about how to bring up a child. I am a trueborn warrior, born from an iron womb and raised in a sibko where the only objective was to become a warrior and bring glory to the clan. The goal was certain, the intent was clear. In the Inner Sphere, however, children are brought up without any specific goals in life, save those they set for themselves. Having been in the Inner Sphere for over ten years, I have come to understand the need for the other castes, but I am still confused about how people decide on their castes as they come of age. What is the role of parents, and family? How did you, Frank, and you, Kily, decide on your current paths in life, and how did your parents and family play a part?"

"I wanted to be a mechwarrior since I was a kid," Kily answered easily. "My family was loaded with money, as my father’s company controlled the hovercar industry in the Duchy of Oriente. I grew up wanting to be a warrior, but my parents wanted me to be a businessman instead. When I was eighteen, I couldn’t stand their demands anymore, so I stole some money from my family fortune, and made my way to Solaris where I learnt to jockey a mech. After l learnt enough, I went to Outreach, where I bought a mech with my remaining money and signed on with Captain Vansen. My family, my parents, did not have anything to do with my decision to be a mechwarrior, except to show me exactly why I didn’t want to be one of those stuffy, boring corporate types. And now, I am finally living my dream of being a mechwarrior, travelling to strange lands in search of danger and fortune. What about you, Frank? You know, I find it funny that you were a doc before you became a mechwarrior. How exactly was your family?"

When Frank did not answer immediately, Deserk pressed the question further. "Frank, we have been on the ship for a long time, and I think I have come to know you as a friend. But all we ever talked about thus far was my experiences as a mechwarrior and life among the clans. You seem reluctant to tell others about your own past. Is it due to shame, or is it because you think it is nothing to talk about? There is no shame in having a less than glorious past, or for being a doctor turned mechwarrior."

Consolidating the soil samples into a bundle of plastic, Frank started walking back to the dropship. The other two warriors followed, waiting for his answer, as he was trying to organize his thoughts. Frank replied only when he had reached the Nile. His tone was hesitant, his answer unsure. His eyes lost their focus as he recalled his past.

"No, I did not tell anyone not because my past was shameful, but because I thought it did not matter, and because it’s a long tale. I was an orphan, given over to the care of a family in a poor farming community on a Skid Row world when I was an infant. I never knew my real parents. Life was tough, and everybody sought a better life. Some managed to amass enough money that they were able to gain passage to another, more comfortable world. I too, wanted a better life, so I worked hard at school and helped out at the farm. The only piece of advanced machinery the entire town had was an agromech five centuries old. Because I had good hand-eye coordination, I was one of those chosen to help pilot the machine. It ran hot, you see, and no one could withstand the heat inside the cockpit for more than half an hour because the cooling fans were spoilt. Once a person got heat exhaustion in the mech, we would drag out him out and another of us would get into the mech to continue the work. We would have scrapped the mech if we could, but it was too useful for tilling, planting and harvesting. Without it, we couldn’t have gotten enough food to feed ourselves, let alone sell what surplus we had for repairs to the town, for hiring teachers to get ourselves some education. The experience of piloting that piece of junk was more than enough to discourage any thoughts I had of being a mechwarrior. It was not fun, it was so hot and stifling. The fact that some folks died of heat stroke when they were in the agromech also destroyed any dreams of glory anyone had of piloting a mech. To us, there was none of the mystique surrounding battlemechs and their pilots. To us, they were only a tool, a tool of killing, a tool of war.”

“I concentrated on my studies and did well at school, and managed to get noticed by the planetary duke. That was when I was twelve. He sent me to the only high school on Lackland, where I excelled. I got interested in helping people there, and eventually I decided that I wanted to be a doctor. I was the top student there, and then I was awarded a scholarship from the government to study medicine at the NAIS. It was an opportunity of a lifetime, one I could not pass up."

As Frank was talking, he had reached the sickbay and was setting up the apparatus for analyzing the soil samples. Deserk and Kily, meanwhile, found themselves chairs in the sickbay where they sat down to hear Frank’s story.

"I was sixteen when I left my homeworld for New Avalon. I remembered being thrilled at the thought of travelling between the stars. I spent the next few years studying medicine at the NAIS, and I blazed through the eight year medicine course in six years. It wasn’t all study and no play, however. Due to a physical requirement for graduation, I had to take up a sports module. Somehow, I managed to get into the fencing course, where I proved to be a natural at the sport. Due to the instructor’s insistence, I even represented the NAIS at the fencing meets, and humiliated more than one military cadet from the CMS and Albion." Frank smiled as he remembered first the taunts, and then later the respect from his opponents as he proved his skill with a rapier.

"The military academy instructors were impressed, and wanted me to join them, to train as a mechwarrior. I said no, however, the pain of piloting the agromech back home still fresh in my mind. Looking back in hindsight, I guess I should have taken them up on their offer."

"I completed my studies in the midst of the brewing Fed-Com civil war, and got shipped out along with a group of graduates to Bromhead, where I would serve part of my bond with the military, in this case the 2^nd Davion Guards. It was on Bromhead where we were when the civil war broke out. And then I fought on Sirdar…”

Deserk and Kily both raised their eyebrows. Evidently, they were surprised by Frank’s revelation.

"When the civil war finally erupted, the Guards were not alone on Bromhead. There were also the 22^nd Avalon Hussars and Hansen’s Roughriders, who both supported Katherine Steiner-Davion. Although the Guards supported Prince Victor, war didn’t break out on Bromhead. We went on to Sirdar, where we fought for the first time in the war, against the Sirdar Capellan March Militia, 4^th Donegal Guards, and the 2^nd Chisholm Raiders. I was a doctor, and I wasn’t supposed to take sides. But when the Pro-Katherine units started herding pro-Davion supporters into prisoner camps on the Ice-Bitch’s orders, it was clearly against everything the Federated Suns had stood for. I still tried to save lives regardless of their loyalties, but I was slowly coming to the opinion that Katherine supporters could go rot in hell for all I care. My Hippocratic oath still bound me, though, so I did my job as best as I could."

"The Guards were slowly losing ground, even with the Illician Lancers as support, as the combined force of the Donegal Guards and the Raiders gave them a distinct mech advantage. It was during one particularly stormy night that I was finally forced into a battlemech cockpit. It seemed fate wanted nothing else for me..."