Planck’s Quantum Hole, Copernicus Caldera,

Einstein, Deep Periphery,

14^th March 3068

 

“Go to hell, you bitch!” A furious Kety drew out his pistol and pointed it at Hamirah Rasouf just as Descartin arrived at the foot of Ian’s Awesome, where many of the other commanders and warriors had gravitated to.

Before he could release his anger, his fellow Dragoons quickly pounced on him, grabbing away the slug thrower away from his fingers before he could fire it. They slammed him down onto the cold hard floor of the corridor, pinning him down as Frank quickly rushed over and knelt down beside Kety.

“Listen, I know you’re mad at her, but let me handle this. All of us got out alive after all, right?” Frank whispered to Kety. The Dragoon calmed down, and stopped his thrashing, but his eyes continued to smolder. The others did not relax, however, and continued to press on him.

Frank got up, and glared at Hamirah. “You happy with yourself now?” He asked softly, but firmly. “We have more than twenty injured, and if Benny hadn’t intervened when he did, we would all be dead. You have any idea what’s at stake here, or are you too blinded by your hate for me?”

Hamirah did not even blink as she stared right back. Frank could feel her eyes boring into his as they pitted their wills against each other.

“You made a foolish decision.” She said. “Why should I risk the lives of my men in an action meant to rescue our enemies, who might later turn on us?”

“Because we might need the extra firepower. Because there are times where enemies can become allies, even for a short while. The Falcons aren’t stupid. They know what they’re up against. These black mechs aren’t choosing sides. They just want all of us dead!”

“So? We can handle them equally well without those parrots.”

Frank shook his head. “You want me to spell it all out for you, huh? Ok, so here we are, relatively safe. But what about our jumpships? Our ticket offworld? How the heck are we going to get out if those bastards are still swarming outside? You want to open the Door now?”

“We can take them on our own…”

Frank was almost shouting now, exasperated at her stubbornness. “Did you miss what was going on out there just now? Some of the best warriors in known space barely survived getting chopped into pieces, and even together we almost got our asses burnt! There’s no way in the whole goddamned Inner Sphere that we’re going to have even a whisker of a chance of getting off this rock alive if we don’t work together!” He paused, and inwardly regretted his loss of control, even for a short while. Getting angry would only exacerbate the situation.

Hamirah did not reply to his tirade, and simply walked off. She only took a few steps before Benny Greaves stepped in her way.

“Captain, you can’t do this. We need to stick together, or we’ll all be dead.”

She looked at him and said softly, “You wanted to help them, right? I can understand what you did. For the duration of this campaign, you have command of the Rangers. I’m washing my hands of this matter. I do not wish to help that butcher over there, but I don’t want to get us all killed either. Therefore, I will not fight, but I will not hold you back anymore either. I still expect you to return the Rangers to me in a satisfactory condition when this is over.”

Benny nodded, and Hamirah went off into one of the dropships. Frank sighed, grateful that one solution had been found to their dilemma, and that Captain Rasouf was willing to let her men fight, though she was not prepared to do so herself.

Frank recalled the cold fear throughout his body during the fight. It got worse as the battle progressed, but he was able to shut off the part of him that wanted to cower in a cave, and more importantly to give orders without sounding afraid. After it was all over, it was all he could not to break down from the stress. And it all came out during his outburst at Captain Rasouf.

As he looked around to try to gather everybody together, including Kety who was busy massaging some blood back into his limbs after being sat on by three of his fellow Dragoons, Frank noticed that his arm was bleeding again. It had been injured when Star Captain Harga had tried to make mincemeat out of them several days back. Red stains could be seen spreading slowly through the tightly wound bandages around the arm. He had really overexerted himself for the last fight.

Frank grimaced. It was not so bad that he had to change the wrapping completely, but the wet cloth felt uncomfortable, even if there was little chance of infection.

An admiring whistle sounded through the corridor. Frank looked up to see one of the most beautiful women he had ever seen walking towards them, clad in a tight-fitting clan mechwarrior cooling vest that left little to the imagination and raised the blood pressure of every male nearby. Her hair, slick with sweat, whipped around her head, giving her face a blond halo around it. If she did not have a certain hostile intensity about her, she would have looked angelic.

I have a fiancée already, I have a fiancée already, Frank repeated the mantra like a prayer, trying to keep his own hormones in check. The others were practically ogling, while the women seemed irritated at the attention the clanswoman was receiving!

The woman, oblivious to the attention she was having, came up to them and said straight out, “I am Star Captain Daniela Mattlov of Clan Jade Falcon. I wish to speak to your Major Ian.”

Frank saw Ian blink once, then quickly shake himself out of his stupor as he answered.

“I am Major Ian. Do you require any assistance? I have already ordered our techs to help you with the repairs. I know supplies are short, but…”

Daniela cut in, “That is not what I wanted to talk to you about.” She took a deep breath before continuing. “Why did you even help us at all? You risked your mechs and lives to help us, knowing that we might later have to fight again. You are all money soldiers. Did you expect payment?”

Ian smiled. “No. We did not really expect any payment. But we aren’t too stupid either. We have no idea how things might have gone if we had to fight off those black mechs ourselves. Frank over there,” Ian gestured, and Frank gave an acknowledgement by nodding his head towards Daniela, “was the one who thought of it first. I’ll be honest with you. We did it not because of our kindly bleeding hearts, but because we hoped to make a deal.”

She frowned. “And what do you want?”

“In return for saving you, you will let us leave this place with our jumpships. That is, assuming we all survive through this mess. To sweeten the deal, we will let you have the rest of the data, as well as anything we might find here.”

Instead of being happy with the bargain, Daniela seemed to get even more angry. “Then what about the dead on both sides? Did you think we will let you go that easily? And your own troops, do they not seek vengeance as well? I know that some of you would sooner stab us in our backs the moment we turn them. How can I trust you?”

“Would you rather take your chances out there? As for the matter of vengeance, well, after my time in the Chaos March, I don’t care any more for such things.”

Frank noticed a faraway look in Ian’s eyes as he continued. “There’re no eternal enemies in the world, nor eternal allies. The dead can’t cry out for revenge, but the living do cry out for their lives.” He shrugged. “I’ve been placed in more uncompromising circumstances than these before. I’m willing to work with you, right now, right here. What the others think is up to them. If they’re smart, they’ll agree with me. What about you?”

She bristled at the implied challenge. “Very well. We shall work with you, for now. When Galaxy Commander Danforth returns, things might change. In addition, I also want you to ensure that my warriors are not harassed in any way. This is all in addition to your promise of the data. Should you fail to deliver on these terms…” She paused, “What is that saying you freebirths use? Ah, yes. All bets are off.”

“Well bargained and done.” Ian stuck out his hand, which Daniela shook firmly. For a moment, Frank could swear something was going on as they looked at each other. A glimmer of mutual admiration, perhaps?

“Well, since that’s settled, we had better get moving.” Frank announced, breaking the reverie that had settled on the group. “Just let me patch up my own wounds first, and then we’re off into the deep dark.” He turned towards a nearby commtech. “Any luck getting transmissions outside?”

The woman answered, “Nope. We can’t receive, and can’t send either. Ditto for the dropships. Something in the walls around us is preventing signals from going through. Guess we might have to either open the doors…” she hastily continued on seeing Frank’s dismayed expression, “or find something in this dump to transmit outside.”

It did not take long for them to prepare for the exploration. The group consisted of several jeeps, enough small arms to wage a small 20^th century war, as well as some mechs and battlearmor. Almost every unit in the corridor sent people, and the clans were no exception.

Frank found himself in the shotgun seat next to Des Winters as the clansman prepared to drive their jeep down the long corridor, leading the rest of the explorers. Deserk and Lorik clambered into the seats behind, normally meant for three people, but could now only seat two due to Lorik’s bulk.

Lorik was startled as he realized that Des was the driver. “Frank, I do not think having Des as the driver is a good… Yeargh!” His last words was swept away when Des floored the pedals.

It did not take long for Frank to realize what Lorik meant, as Des tried to drive like a race car professional, but his control was simply not up to it. The jeep swerved from side to side, and it was worse every time they rounded a bend, with Des overcompensating on the steering. Frank was astounded that the best mechwarrior he had ever seen had such atrocious car-handling skills!

As Frank turned his head to look at the other two passengers, he noticed Lorik and Deserk’s faces were turning a pale shade of green. He had to admit he was not feeling too good himself, the butterflies having run amuck in his stomach. They continued like this for two short kilometers, but that was enough to have Frank fearing for their lives.

As they came up to a wall, the jeep came to a screeching halt. Frank and the others had to brace themselves as Des jammed the brakes, heedless of his passengers’ safety, going from over a hundred kilometers per hour to zero speed in less than two seconds.

Gripping the dashboard tightly as they finally ground to a stop, Frank disembarked shakily from the jeep, feeling weak in the knees.

“Star Captain Winters,” Frank asked, “Have you ever gone for a driving course?”

“Actually, no.” Des uttered as they waited for the rest of the force, who drove more conservatively, to catch up. “I just picked it up during the initial invasion. Hands on, you know, on my own, without any instruction!” He said proudly.

Frank heard Deserk mutter in a low tone, “And wrecked more than three cars in the process.”

Des pointedly ignored the comment.

Frank and Lorik went on to examine the structure before them. The wall, which was about thirty by twenty meters, seemed to be made of the same ultra-hard material as the corridor, which was impossible to cut through, even with a dropship’s fusion torch. Thankfully, there was an opening, large enough even for mechs to pass through. It seemed like a gate of some sort, akin to the gates permitting entry to castles of ancient Terra. There were several consoles and panels near the door, and with alien writings. From the looks of things, someone had already opened it before, but did not close it.

Must have been the earlier exploration party sent during the days of the Star League, Frank thought. But what happened to them? Why was there no reply whatsoever?

He guessed they would soon find out, one way or the other.

The other jeeps and troops arrived in short order. Everybody got down, and it was not long before Ian and Frank had formed them up into several teams to enter in sequence. This was done to avoid having any significant portion of their warriors killed by hidden traps and the like.

Naturally, Frank got himself into the first team to enter, consisting of Descartin Winters, Kily Gonzalez, Patrice, Irina Federov from the Lancers, and Tina, who had insisted on accompanying her Seeker. Save for Tina, all of them were loaded for bear, armed with gyrojet rifles, armor piercing rounds, and various armaments, all geared towards dealing with armored targets like defensive turrets and the Spidercrabs.

As Irina peeked around one corner of the entrance, then moved into the doorway quickly to take up a position beside the brightly lit entrance, the others followed, their weapons in the ready position, their senses alert for any sign of danger.

“We are past the entrance, and are moving further in,” Frank informed the others over a headset he had placed on his head. The area they were in reminded Frank of the reception area they had seen in the abandoned Star League base, but the shiny material and apparent newness of their surroundings made all the difference.

There were many doors and portals along the entire room, all marked with the same flowing alien script. There were also consoles and screens everywhere, along with alien script on the walls, and even a few pictures of strange beasts and familiar landscapes. The technology seemed highly advanced, and Frank was wary of what the devices might do.

Still, the whole place had a sense of calming serenity about it, and Frank was finding it difficult to maintain his alertness. The others were also visibly effected. Their stances slackened a bit, their gun-sights dropped a bit, and they all moved a trifle bit slower.

“Don’t touch anything!” He warned, which also served to jerk them back to awareness. “Look around, and secure the area…”

“I have found something!” Tina cried out suddenly from a room adjoining the area Frank had already come to think of as the reception area. Everybody rushed into the room she was in, only to be confronted by a gruesome sight. Only Descartin had the presence of mind to guard the rear as they entered the room.

There were several skeletons clad in scientist lab coats and Star League Defense Force uniforms in various positions on the ground. Their weapons could be seen gleaming on the floor, just inches away from the hands. One skeleton was propped up against a wall on the left. The rest of the room was occupied by a strange gallery of bizarre shapes, and a whole mess of symbols below the shapes, which Frank was unable to make any sense of.

Even the most amateur soldier could have guessed what had happened to the explorer party. From the positions of the skeletons on the floor and the direction they were facing, Frank guessed that the entire group had been ambushed from the rear. Only the skeleton on the wall and one skeleton lying on its back near the doorway were different from the others.

They inched into the room, careful not to disturb the dead, or the items they had scattered. Frank spotted a datapad in the lap of the skeleton near the wall, and he walked over to it.

As he squatted down to get a closer look at the device, he noticed it looked as if the person had been writing something on it before he died.

Something important perhaps? Frank thought.

He hesitated for a while, before deciding that the gains might outweigh the risks. Besides, what could possibly happen?

Des gave a roar when he saw Frank picking up the datapad and activating it. Mistaking it for a booby trap , he ran forward and clattered painfully into Frank, slapping away the datapad as he did so. The two warriors, already injured and exhausted from their battles, crashed to the ground, the datapad falling in between them to rest on one side, with the screen facing Frank.

“What gives?” Frank yelled out as he tried to get up, using his good arm to lever himself off. Then he noticed something.

There were some words on the liquid crystal display, and they fairly leapt out at Frank as he tried to clear his head.

It showed “Betrayed by Amaris”.

That shook Frank to full awareness immediately, as he scrambled to his feet, with Des right beside him.

“What are you doing? Get away from that thing, it might be dangerous!” Des protested as Frank picked up the datapad again. Des groaned and clutched his side, his wound acting up from the collision.

“Amaris again.” Frank spoke softly in reply. “No, I suspect this is somebody’s last message. A note from the dead.” He pressed several keys on the pad, and began to read aloud to the others from the words on the screen. He was amazed that the datapad could still work after three centuries of disuse.

“This is Captain Julian Reyes. I am, or was, an officer of the Star League Defense Force, currently on detached duty on Area 51. Our mission here was to uncover any alien artifacts and bases on this world. Two hours ago, our scientists were able to unlock the gates sealing this base, and we entered the facility. Almost immediately, our forces outside were attacked by unknown enemies. We managed to shut the doors, but lost our communications with the outside as well.”

“We went deeper into the base, hoping to find something that could help us. Our resident xenolinguist, Dr Andreas Tate, managed to decipher the readings and code signals on the panel near the entrance into the base proper, to let us in. She told us that there won’t be any hostile forces inside the complex. I guess we took her words too liberally, because we really slacked off.”

“After looking through the immediate area, Corporal Phillip Gaves said he had found something interesting, and we all gathered here in this room. We did not suspect a thing as he brought up the rear.”

“The fucker opened fire on us, at our backs. Everyone was hit, and I got shot in both my legs. I played possum, closing my eyes while hearing that bastard Gaves rant on about how pleased his Lord Amaris would be at our find, and how the Star League would pay for its arrogance.”

“Taking advantage of his inattentiveness, I took aim from my prone position on the floor with my needler pistol and shot him in the head. I crawled around, trying to check on the others, but it was too late. Much too late.”

“I’m now the only one left alive, and from the looks of things, I’m about to join the others soon. Instead of waiting uselessly for my death, I will end my life right now, but not before I had this written down.”

“Amaris is clearly a traitor to the Star League. First Lord Richard Cameron was foolish to trust him. I fear that the Star League would not last long after my death. Hopefully, the sacrifice of my people will not be in vain. Signed, Julian Reyes.”

Frank looked up, to see not just his own party, but almost everybody in the exploration expedition, who had entered as he was reading. Daniela Mattlov had a stony look on her face, and all the clanners, and quite a few mercs, were tense with rage. Anger that Frank could feel himself. Anger towards the most hated man for the last 300 years, Stefan Amaris the Usurper. Anger that a new Golden Age for humanity, promised by the recovery of the alien base, was foiled through the treachery of Amaris.

Three hundred years later, and we’re still paying the price. Frank sighed, switched off the datapad, and placed it into a small pouch by his side.

“Well, looks like our worst enemies are still ourselves.” He remarked. “I think we can probably trust their xenolinguist, even if it’s three hundred years later. Right now, let’s split up, and look for anything that looks like a map of the place. Lorik,” he asked the scientist, “you have some knowledge of their language, so you stick with me, and we’ll try to figure this place out. The rest of you just look around. Report once you’ve found anything interesting, but try not to mess around too much. We’ll gather back here in three hours time, and have our dinner in here. That okay?”

It did not take long for the entire group to disperse into their own cliques. Frank found himself in a group with Deserk, Descartin Winters, Ian Dorlacen, Daniela Mattlov, and their fellow warriors. While he was worried about possible conflicts between the various factions, he noticed that everybody were trying to be patient with one another, thus smoothing out a lot of differences. Daniela’s subordinate Jedec was even smiling and talking calmly to Kily as the group moved down amiably to the furthest door away from the entrance they entered. The other mercs were examining the other rooms, but they were all dead ends so far.

Frank’s group stopped at the doorway, and he asked Lorik, who was taking point, “Where exactly are we going?”

“The few signs I have been able to figure out indicates that a command center of some sort is situated in this direction. The words I have for signs pointing this way are ‘network’, ‘center’, and ‘processing’. I cannot be sure, but I have a feeling this is the correct direction to take.”

“Lead on.” Frank bowed to Lorik dramatically, gesturing with one arm for Lorik to lead the way.

They stepped through the portal, only to be confronted by what seemed to be a central hub area, a circular room with three levels of doors, accessible through ramps on the side gradually leading up to each higher floor. The room was about seventy meters in diameter, while the ceiling was an incandescent plane of brilliant light filtering down into the chamber.

“To tell you the truth, I have no idea where to go next. We do not have a map of the place.” Lorik looked stumped at the sheer amount of possible choices they have. Fortunately, somebody had come prepared.

Descartin took out a few glow sticks from his backpack, gave them several hard shakes, and bent them, snapping the glass tubes inside. The sticks instantly gave off a bright glow, the molecules excited by the energy given off by the chemical reaction shedding their excess energy via photon emission.

“Here, each one of you, take one of these.” Des said as he handed out the sticks.

“Uh, we’re not in the dark here. What’s the use?” Frank asked.

Des did not reply. He mutely took out a small knife, and cut a small slit in the plastic cover of the stick. He held it over the floor, with the slit closest to the ground. A drop of bright fluid mixture formed on the slit opening, and succumbed to gravity, forming a bright splotch on the floor as it landed. Everyone went “Ahhh”, as understanding dawned.

“We split up, and use the liquid to mark our steps. It might be even better if we trace out directions with the liquid on the floor to mark the direction back to this chamber, so that we can always come back if we feel lost. The light will last for eight hours, but we should be back here well before then. Don’t look so surprised,” Des grinned smugly, “Goliath Scorpion Seekers use this trick all the time. The benefits of having a varied education, quiaff?”

Deserk cuffed him gently on the head. “Sure your head is not suffering from excessive bruising during the battle? It’s swell enough already.”

“Try not to get any of the liquid on you. Phenol’s a known carcinogen.” Frank warned as they moved out.

 

Warship Blue Aerie, System Transit,

Einstein, Deep Periphery

 

Star Commodore Valten Folkner seethed quietly as he observed through the viewscreen on the bridge the tattered remnants of his aerospace forces limping away from the planet. The two Black-Lion class battlecruisers were almost crippled, and they had lost almost half of their dropships.

The White Aerie had lost all its port side weapons, while the Blue Aerie was scarcely better off, its armor completely gone on both sides. Valten had rolled the ship halfway through the battle to spread out the damage, but it had availed them little as they suffered blow after blow from the enemy ship, while inflicting little damage in return.

Near the end of the battle, some shots were finally seen impacting on the enemy ship’s hull, but it was too little, too late. Their own fighters had ran out of fuel, and were in headlong retreat from the enemy ships, which seemed not to have any fuel problems. Valten guessed that the enemy fighter’s poorer performance capabilities might be due to their larger fuel loads, which was largely neglected by human ship designers, who often supplied their fighters with just enough fuel to stay in a dogfight, which are normally no more than ten minutes long, based on information gleaned from centuries of air combat.

Who would have guessed that combat endurance would be so important? If not for the vastly greater numbers of the enemy, Valten was sure his forces would have been able to defeat them easily in an even odds battle.

No use crying over that now, Valten reminded himself. The loss of the fighters had convinced him that the battle could not be won today. He hated to leave just when they had finally broken through the enemy ship’s shields, but without any idea of how strong its armor was, they could have lost both their Warships in a futile attempt to destroy it utterly.

No, better to disengage, then think about how to tackle the enemy. Valten was now sure he had the proper plan to defeat the enemy forces, but he needed time to repair his ships, his dropships, and his fighters. He needed time to rest his weary pilots, time to tend to the wounded, time to instill fresh morale into his beleaguered troops.

It was a relief that the enemy had not chosen to pursue them as they accelerated away from the planet. Defeat in such a case would have been inevitable.

Valten was also worried about the state of the forces left on the world, both mercenary and Falcon. The loss of contact with Galaxy Commander Lizabet Danforth was the most worrying. It also drove home the fact that they were no longer assured of victory. In fact, he privately thought they would be lucky to survive through this latest twist in their campaign.

He grimaced as his eyes ran over the butcher’s list on his command display. Seventy fighters lost, and more than 30 pilot casualties. Eight dropships destroyed, two of them massive Overlord-Cs. Jump coils on the White Aerie damaged, damaged docking collars on the Blue Aerie. Over two hundred crewmen dead on the dropships and warships. Yes, it had been a brutal battle.

They had been surprised this time, but he swore that the next one would be different. Much different.

 

The machine intelligence would have cursed if it knew how, as victory eluded it with the shutting of the doors. It was certain that the flesh beings would not be able to withstand the onslaught of its forces. Instead it had suffered tremendous losses, with little to show for it.

On the other hand, it had observed a certain solidarity between its enemies. The alliance and cooperation of the two sides had plain surprised it, for it had predicted that the force sent out from the door would attack the machines marked with the bright green avian.

The new force had helped the besieged machines, helping to break free of the drone forces, and even to bring them into the Qlictorio base. This unexpected move had thrown all of the machine intelligence’s calculations into doubt.

Even now, there were groups of flesh beings all over the planet. Armed with aerospace supremacy, the machine intelligence was sending its drones and fighters after each and every one of them, after they had rearmed on the motherships. It predicted that the flesh beings inside the base would try to aid their comrades like most instances in the past. To help them, they would have to use an exit, which the machine intelligence would most assuredly be looking out for. It would try to overwhelm the assisting groups by sheer numbers, then penetrate into the base.

As for its light cruiser, the ship had been heavily damaged by the flesh beings’ own spaceships. Once its shields went down, its light armor could only endure an estimated two salvos from the opposing ships before succumbing. The enemy retreat due to lack of fighter cover had been calculated long in advance by the machine intelligence. This, at least, had proceeded mostly as predicted, though its forces did take severe losses and did not destroy either of the enemy capital ships. The machine intelligence kept the cruiser in orbit, to replenish its energy stores, its shields, and rearm the fighters. It also wanted the cruiser to provide orbital bombardment if such an opportunity presented itself.

The odds heavily favored its victory. It was only a matter of time.

 

Planck’s Quantum Hole, Copernicus Caldera,

Einstein, Deep Periphery,

 

After two hours of trudging through corridor after corridor, Frank was almost ready to give up when they stumbled into a large room full of machinery. Consoles and screens were everywhere, as well as many machines and objects which they were unable to identify. All were shut down, and Frank had put finding a power switch as his first priority.

Nevertheless, like most of the rooms they had seen, there was a certain comprehensibility to the place; a desk here, a seat there. But equally, there was nothing to indicate that this room was anything special.

Frank poked here and there, trying to get something to work, just for once. He had a feeling of being a mouse inside an elaborate maze, where some higher power was observing and cataloging their actions.

He gestured to the others, and just as they were about to leave the room, all the lights on the consoles and displays suddenly lit up.

“What the heck?” Frank asked.