Chapter 9
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Chapter 9

               Meridian Manufacturing Plant One

               New St Andrews IV, The Periphery

               Rimward of the Circinus Federation

               2 May 3077       

 

               The cockpit blared with the lock-on alert as Marie raced her ‘Mech through the woods. 

               “Where is he?” she asked breathlessly.  Laser beams stabbed through the trees at her, forcing her to hastily dodge.  The huge ‘Mech leaned into a turn, but she still ended up going straight through one of the brilliant purple energy beams.  Marie winced as the ‘Mech’s wire frame turned yellow, signaling half a ton of armor being slagged off of her arm.  The Phoenix Hawk tilted dangerously, leaving Marie frantically pushing the control sticks to keep her balance.  She pulled back on the throttle to try and regain control, but she didn’t get even a moment’s respite before heavy autocannons spoke in the distance, the slugs sending up rivulets of dirt as they searched for her.

               Marie glanced at the sensor readouts, spotting a ‘Mech reactor at the edge of her range.  Unfortunately she couldn’t get a clear view of anything through the trees that surrounded her.  Grinding her teeth, she thumbed the button to charge her large laser, and hit her jump jets.

               The Phoenix Hawk took to the air as the thrusters on its back came to life.  She lifted up over the trees, arcing towards the enemy ‘Mech’s reactor.  The screens cleared of branches and leaves, giving her a clear view of the enemy Rifleman up on a hill.  Marie lined up her large laser on the ‘Mech, but before she could fire her cockpit rocked with impacts of missiles.  The Phoenix Hawk listed ominously, starting to tumble off the pillars of fire it was riding.  As she started falling sideways Marie tried to swing the ‘Mech’s arms to catch her balance.  At the same time she looked over to see an enemy Griffin on another ridge, its shoulder LRM launcher smoking.  The Extended-Range PPC on the Griffin’s arm flashed, and the screens whited out with the impact of man-made lightning directly on her ‘Mech’s face.  The cockpit shuddered threateningly…then went dark as everything powered down.

               “Goddammit,” she muttered.  An alert sounded and the cockpit door opened up, letting in the bright overhead lighting from outside.

               “That’s another fail,” Thomas’ voice said from the doorway.  “Get out of there, McCloud.”

               Marie cursed again and pulled off her neurohelmet, unplugging it from the cockpit before unstrapping herself from the command chair and climbing out.  As she stepped outside, the hot, sweaty smell of a ‘Mech cockpit was replaced with the scent of oil and steel from the Meridian factory.

               “If this were real, we’d be scraping your ashes out of the hole that used to be a cockpit,” Thomas said to her.  “I don’t even know where to start.  Hit the floor, Pilot.  Time to give your arms another workout.”

               Marie held back a grimace.  When they’d first started simulator training eleven days ago Thomas had tried making her run laps as punishment for failure, until he’d seen her legs couldn’t manage anything faster than a brisk walk.  Now she began what had become their new routine, getting down on the floor and doing push-ups while Thomas reviewed her test performance.

               “Let’s break it down,” the sergeant began.  “You stopped moving when a heavy ‘Mech had you in its sights.  That Rifleman was already taking shots at you, and you made yourself an easier target?  What were you thinking?!”

               “I had to catch my breath!”

               “That ‘Mech doesn’t need to breathe!” Thomas responded sharply.  “And if you can sling excuses you’re not working hard enough!”  Marie ground her teeth and continued doing push-ups while Thomas went on.  “We are a high-mobility unit, McCloud.  The big heavy ‘Mechs have enough armor to just stand in place and think about what to do, but we don’t get that luxury.  When shots are coming at us from all directions, what do Hussars do?”

               “We move, sir,” Marie spat out as her arms started to burn. 

               “We move,” Thomas repeated.  “Staying mobile is our main asset.  But only if you do it smart, which brings me to that jump maneuver.  What were you thinking with that?  You blasted yourself out of cover.  I could’ve put a five-story building under you and it wouldn’t have touched your ‘Mech’s toes!”

               “I…couldn’t…see…anything…sir,” Marie argued breathlessly in between repetitions.

               “’Mechs can see more than you can with your eyes, you should know that!  If the cameras aren’t working, switch to thermal!  Or radar!  All you did by jumping was make yourself a giant target for anyone looking, and that’s why you’re on the floor again.  I don’t want to hear you saying your sensors didn’t spot that Griffin, you should know better.  Always assume there’s something you didn’t see.  And never jump higher than you absolutely need to.  The rule is short, straight jumps, none of that curving path bullshit I just saw.  I’m sure it’s hard for you to remember, but that is a ‘Mech, not an aerospace fighter.”  He shook his head at her.  “Overall you get a score of 10%.  That’s abysmal, Pilot.  If it were up to me, I’d save us both some time and say don’t bother getting back in there.  For now you’re dismissed.  Your next patrol’s in two hours, let’s hope nothing happens on it because right now these people’d be better off sticking a ‘no trespassing’ sign out front than counting on you to stand guard in a ‘Mech.”

               With that he stomped out.  Knowing that stopping before he left the room just meant another dressing-down, Marie continued the push-ups until she heard the door slam, then she collapsed boneless, gasping for breath.  “Asshole,” she muttered into the floor tiles. 

               After a minute of lying prostrate she made her sore arms move, pushing herself up off the floor.  She sat down on the edge of the simulator pod and lit a cigarette, quietly smoking for a few minutes as she tried to mentally pull herself together.  Her hands were cramping from hanging onto the control sticks.  Keep moving, that was what Thomas kept yelling at her.  He always wanted her to go faster, like the only acceptable action was racing through the simulations at top speed.  How do these people not splatter themselves into walls? she thought to herself. 

               She didn’t know what Thomas expected from her.  Walking was too slow, and when she tried running she crashed into things or lost her balance.  When she tried jumping she got shot down.  Now Thomas was expecting her to handle a two-against-one matchup, and he’d obviously tweaked the pilot accuracy.  It was like the Rifleman had known right where to aim even when it couldn’t see her, and there was no way that Griffin could have bullseyed her cockpit mid-jump like that.  Thomas was just being hard on her for no reason.

               She dropped the cigarette and ground it out under her heel before heading out of the simulator room, neurohelmet tucked into the crook of her arm.  As soon as she opened the door the din of the factory filled the air.  Half a dozen Scorpion tanks were being put together on the factory floor, and the beginnings of another Arbiter were being gathered in a hangar.  All the equipment was being tended to by the assembly robot arms and overseen by groups of technicians.  Marie had to hand it to Meridian: despite everything happening, around Plant One it was still business as usual, rushing to meet their backlogged orders. 

               The Broken Blossom stood silently in another hangar near the giant bay doors.  No work was being done on it, but the LAM still got attention from anyone passing by.  Some of it was awe, some was tension – the factory might be running around the clock, but everyone the ‘Mech was there for a reason. 

               She saw she was alone for the moment, which was a relief.  For the first few days here at the Plant holo crews had dogged her almost all day, capturing holo images of her and of the Blossom and ignoring any efforts to wave them off.  Thomas had been no help whatsoever, telling her it wasn’t his problem and what had she expected anyway.  She had groused at that; she knew Meridian had wanted the Blossom here because it got views, but she’d still been hoping to be less on display.  Now at least the holo crews were nowhere to be seen.  Not that there’s really any privacy here, Marie thought to herself, glancing up at one of the security holo cameras affixed to the walls.  Even after almost two weeks on guard duty she still wasn’t used to always being recorded.  She self-consciously combed her hair with her fingers, wishing she’d had a chance to freshen up before coming out into view.  She’d just changed the streak in her hair to orange, and she hadn’t been able to wash her hair yet.

               Her eyes fell on Coghill, who was impatiently tapping on a datapad as he waited at the Blossom’s feet.  Marie felt her spirits darken at the sight of the man.  Bower had been deployed with the rest of the Hussars, but Coghill had been left behind to monitor her.  She knew as soon as he saw her he would start yammering about whatever inane thing he was annoyed about today.  Luckily he hadn’t noticed her yet, so she quietly turned back towards the simulator room.  Before she could take her second step however, she heard someone call out to her. 

               She looked up to see one of the factory technicians approaching her.  The young man looked dirty from work, but he had a wry smile on his face all the same.

               “Evenin’,” the young tech said.  “You look like someone who just got the losin’ end of a fight.”

               “Just a drill sergeant doing his thing,” Marie said tiredly. 

               The tech raised his eyebrows in sympathy.  “Fancy a drink?” he asked.  “Me and a few other guys get off in an hour, we’re headed to the pub.”

               Marie managed a smile in response to that.  New St. Andrews didn’t have much to recommend it, but the lack of any official drinking age was pretty nice.  Still, she shook her head at him.

               “Sorry, I’m going on patrol in a couple of hours and I have to get another sim run in before then.  Did you get the thing, by the way?”

               The young tech nodded and produced a heavy data cartridge from a backpack.  “Finished writing just half an hour ago.  Never would’ve thought to set up a simulator like this.”

               Marie took the cartridge with a grateful nod.  “Spend a few years shipping mercenaries around, and you’d be amazed what they’ll teach you about cutting corners to get by,” she said.  “Thanks.  Drinks tomorrow?”

               “Why tomorrow?  Could still get a few pints in before you head out,” he suggested, raising his eyebrows mischeviously.  “Come on, slack off for a night.  You just got out of the sim training anyway, right?”

               “I got out of ‘Mech training,” Marie corrected.  “Now I’ve got flight training.  Tomorrow, all right?  Don’t have too much fun without me.”

               The man gave her a look that was a mix of disappointment and anticipation as she stepped back from him.  Marie could only look sympathetic for a moment however, as she spotted Coghill coming towards her, apparently having finally caught sight of her.  She bit back a curse and put on a strained smile.

               “Pilot, the team had some notes on your last patrol,” Coghill said.

               What a surprise, she thought to herself.  “Oh really?” she asked innocently.  “I’m totally surprised by this.  What do they have to say about how I pilot?”

               “Spare me the attitude.  Now, when you come around the east side of the Plant, we’re not getting the right angle on your ‘Mech…” he began.

               Marie spent the next five minutes standing there awkwardly, listening to him rattle off notes about how she piloted the Blossom.  After the first minute she found herself wishing she was back in training with Thomas.  That man was difficult, but Coghill and his producers’ notes were mind-numbing.  Turn another five degrees here, pause another ten seconds there.  Get a wider stance when standing in front of the bay doors, change modes at the top of the ridge…before long it all just dissolved into white noise while Marie fought the urge to roll her eyes at him.  She had never seen Thomas having to deal with this; apparently Coghill reserved his notes for the one actually piloting.

               Marie passed the time by nodding periodically at what he was saying.  Eventually Coghill had gone through all of his notes and looked up at her imperiously, his attitude not at all tempered by their height difference.

               “Yup, thanks for all that,” Marie said, continuing to nod.  “I will keep it all in mind, I promise.”  She made a show of checking her chronometer.  “Now excuse me, I’ve got to take care of a few things before going on patrol.”

               She headed back into the simulator room before Coghill could say anything more, and locked the door behind her.  She opened up a panel in the side of the simulator pod and found a nest of wires, which she connected to the data cartridge the technician had brought her.  Then she climbed into the pod, plugged in her neurohelmet, and powered everything up again.

               The simulated cockpit lit up around her, and she felt the chill of her mind interfacing with it.  She also got the now-familiar feeling of the Blossom hanging off of her shoulders.  It was an interesting sensation; for training Thomas set the simulator pod to mimic a traditional Succession Wars-era Phoenix Hawk, which should have been close enough.  But Marie knew it wasn’t the same, so she’d wired the Blossom’s computers into a test panel and had formatted a new simulator data cartridge off of the readouts.  It was something mercenaries often had to do; simulators didn’t have the specifications on the Frankenmech conglomerations they often ended up piloting, so the mercenaries had to make simulator cartridges for their rides from scratch.

               That little trick meant that now Marie was in a real simulation of the Broken Blossom.  She was amazed at how different it felt from a regular Phoenix Hawk.  She felt lighter, like even with its wings folded away the ‘Mech still knew it could fly.  Marie touched the control sticks, watching the simulated ‘Mech hands come up on the viewscreen.  They clenched and unclenched as she concentrated on them.  She no longer needed clunky gauntlet controls, the neurohelmet could control the ‘Mech’s hand actuators directly.  It had taken some getting used to, but controlling the Blossom’s hands wasn’t that different from controlling her own prosthetics.

               Marie keyed in a command on the console, and the viewscreen flickered, leaving her looking down a familiar nosecone. 

               “Aerospace fighter conversion completed,” a tinny digitized voice announced.  Marie shook her head at the pale imitation of the Blossom’s voice.  She tested the controls and lifted off, her pulse accelerating as she soared up into the digital sky.  The simulator couldn’t quite duplicate the real feeling of flying, but after so many days dealing with Thomas, Coghill, and the camera crews, she would take whatever enjoyment she could get.  The freedom of being airborne was a refreshing change from the ground-bound duties she had in the real world.  She hadn’t realized she missed it so much. 

               Still, she wasn’t here just for recreation.  After half an hour of flying, she’d gotten a feel for the simulated aerospace fighter and assured herself it was close enough to the real thing.  She took a few minutes to connect a datapad to the simulator console, then tapped on her wristcomp, starting a call. 

               “Hi mom,” she said as the call connected.  She steeled herself internally, and reminded herself that she had to get to know the Blossom in all her forms if she was going to pilot the LAM effectively.  As annoying as it could be to talk to her mother, Rachel was a certified aerospace fighter instructor.

               “Hi honey, how are you?” Rachel’s voice said over the line.

               “Well…” Marie replied hesitantly.  “I haven’t been fired yet.  And I got the simulator fixed up, too.”  At the pause this drew in response, she groaned internally.  “What is it?”

               “…You sound so burned-out,” Rachel answered quietly.  “Like this is taking the life right out of you.”

               “It’s fine,” Marie replied.  “Just a tough day, it’s fine, really.  So…how are you?”

               “I’m doing great.  The apartment is nice, and there’s plenty of people out here who could use an extra hand.  I’m on a few interviews tomorrow.  It’ll be good to get back out there.  And there’s even a regular dropship schedule.  I hear another one’s landing in a couple of weeks.”

               “Yeah,” Marie agreed.  “Meridian’s really racing to get another order done in time.  Though between you and me, I don’t know what they’re expecting.  I’ve been looking at the equipment they’re making out here, and it isn’t what you’d call ‘top of the line.’  I thought I was protecting a Discount Dan’s a couple of times.”

               Rachel laughed at that.  “They’re still able to sell it, so they must be doing something right.”

               Marie rolled her eyes at that.  Meridian might make sub-par equipment, but their marketing department was aggressive as hell.  She wasn’t surprised they were able to sell their junky hardware.

               “Are you handling the work all right?” Rachel asked.

               “I’m fine, mom.  It’s a new job, but I got it.  It’s just a lot to adjust to.”  She tapped on the datapad she’d wired in, connecting the simulator’s panel to her mother’s datapad back in Kilrymont.  “Look, I don’t have much time before I’ve got to head out.  You want to go up with me?”

               “Sure thing.”

               One good thing about working at Plant One was she had a reliable hardline connection back to the spaceport, where Rachel’s apartment was.  It made it a relatively easy task to call her mother, as well as share the simulator screens with her.  Marie imagined Rachel sitting in the apartment, sipping coffee while watching her fly remotely. 

               Rachel ran her through a few standard testing maneuvers, banking at various angles, managing a slow descent and then a rapid climb.

               “How’s she handling?” Rachel asked her after several minutes.

               “She’s slow,” Marie answered grudgingly.  “The controls aren’t responding right.”

               “That simulator’s probably not made for aerospace fighters,” Rachel commented.  “And don’t forget you’re still adjusting to it.”  There was a pause.  “Do you expect to go up in the air soon?”

               “…no,” Marie admitted.  “The Hussars have other things to worry about without me terrorizing them in the sky.  The next shipment’s already going to be delayed.”

               “Yes, I’d heard something about that over here.  Word around town is there’ve been more attacks lately.”

               Marie made a noise of agreement.  Shortly after arriving at Plant One, the other Hussars had left along with Bower to escort the shipment of Arbiters to the Sirocco.  That had gone smoothly enough, but it had been nothing but speed bumps since then.  Caradin had brought the lance back and had started her scouting sweeps through the area, but the pirate teams were still hitting targets of opportunity everywhere they could, always staying just outside of the Hussars’ range.  They’d hit miners, farmers, and trucks moving equipment or crops, seizing everything they could carry before fading back into the woods.

               “Caradin says the people don’t get it,” Marie said.  “Everyone knows there are pirates out there, but the farmers keep driving out on the roads, saying it could never happen to them.”

               “They’ve got bills to pay, too,” Rachel said.  “And isn’t that exactly what Meridian is doing?  Keeping up business as usual when they know there’s danger out there?”

               Marie grumbled at that.  “Anyway, we’re making the pirates really nervous,” she said, hoping she sounded convincing.  “If you watch the attack patterns, they’ve been moving north.  We’re getting a good handle on their movements.”

               “’We’ are?” Rachel asked.  “I thought you were on guard duty.”

               Marie rolled her eyes and continued through her set of flight maneuvers.  “The Hussars are still my unit, mom.”

               “But they didn’t take you out with them.  I haven’t seen many mercenaries who isolate their new hires like this.  Wouldn’t it make more sense to have you training alongside the rest of the unit, instead of leaving you out there by yourself?”

               Marie sighed.  “I don’t have any formal training.  They want to make sure I can keep up with them, that’s all.  And I must be doing all right, because Caradin is sending me out to escort the next shipment.”

               “She’s sending you alone?”  Rachel asked apprehensively.

               Marie groaned.  “The lance is driving the pirates away from the spaceport and the shipment, mom.  I’m just going so they feel safe.  You know that’s a good thing that she trusts me with the job, right?” she asked.

               “If you say so,” Rachel answered, clearly unconvinced.

               Marie rolled her eyes again.  Another no-win conversation, like dozens of others she’d had with her mother.  Can’t just tell me I’m doing a good job, can you? she thought to herself before taking a breath.  “Let’s try the hybrid mode.”

               “I can’t say I studied that one,” Rachel said with a little laugh.  “But all right, let’s give it a shot.”

               Marie tapped another control, and the display and feel of the simulator changed.  “Airmech conversion completed,” the tinny voice announced.

               She continued flying, now with the Blossom as a half-‘Mech half-aerospace fighter.  The machine responded even more sluggishly now, thanks to the arms and legs dragging along underneath the wings.  Simultaneously it was also unsteady, like the LAM couldn’t decide whether it wanted to fly or not.  After a few frustrating minutes the Blossom made up its mind on that point, as Marie lost control and plowed nose-first into the ground.  The simulator shook and the screens went dark.

               Marie cursed loudly.  “How the hell is anyone supposed to control this thing?” she exclaimed. 

               “You’re years out of practice and flying something no one alive has any experience with.  You’re bound to have a few runs like that,” Rachel said placatingly.  “Anyway, I read the first LAMs were built with double cockpits to hold an aerospace pilot and a MechWarrior, but it was too hard to get them to work in sync.  So now you’re doing the job of two people in there.”

               “Sure feels like I need four arms for this thing,” Marie muttered.  “It wasn’t this hard on Huntington, I don’t know what’s going on.”  She groaned and squared her shoulders before restarting the simulator.  “Let’s go again.”

               “Why don’t we get a better feel for the aerospace fighter mode before we do anything fancy?”

               “I’ve got to learn how to handle the Blossom, and that means all her tricks,” Marie shot back.  “I’m not piloting her with one hand tied behind my back.  So come on, we’re going again.”

               “All right,” Rachel agreed after a pause.  Marie heard her mother make a little amused laugh.  “I just remembered what you were like when you first got your prosthetics.  You remember how long it took you to get used to them?”

               “Yeah, I do,” Marie replied quietly, remembering all the bruises and sprains from falling on her face.  “And you would take me up flying to get me to focus on something else.”

               “Anything with wings, and a few things without,” Rachel said with another laugh.  “I wanted to give you a break and get you out of the house.  You’d go up with me, and every time we landed you’d put your legs back on and try walking again.  You said ‘no, I’m not getting wheeled up to the cockpit, I can walk there myself.’  Once you set your mind, nothing was going to get you to change it.”

               “It’s worked out so far,” Marie said.  “So…here I’ve got something new with wings, and a few other bonus parts.  Let’s figure her out.”  Without waiting for her mother’s response, she started the simulation again, taking the AirMech back up into the virtual sky.

               “Is everything else all right?” Rachel asked after a few more minutes.

               “Yes, no problems,” Marie answered too quickly.  “I’m just glad to get in the air again.  It’s been a tough day.”  At the expectant silence that followed, she went on.  “The training’s been a lot to handle, and the people out here are just obnoxious.  But really, I’m fine.  Everyone knows the rookies get the junk jobs to see if we can handle simple things.  I just have to push through this.”

               “Dedication to a job is good, but…do you like the work?” Rachel asked.  “You sound like you’ve had an awful day.”

               “…It’s training, mom.  It’s supposed to be hard.”

               “Is it supposed to be this hard?”

               Marie seethed quietly for a moment at the doubtful tone in her mother’s voice.  “I can handle it, mom.  This is my big chance, I’m not going to blow it.”  And did you forget my wages are supporting both of us right now? she mentally added on.

               “I just don’t want you doing something you hate just because you feel like you have to,” Rachel replied.  “I’ve been thinking…what if you asked the Hussars to keep you on as a lead technician instead?  You know you’re gifted at that.  Not many people would be able to rewire a ‘Mech simulator to make it fly.”  She went quiet for a few seconds.  “I don’t want to see you waste your potential like Daniel did.”

               Marie groaned.  Flying had been her recreation for years, something that really made her feel alive, even when it was just in a simulator.  Now her mother had brought up one of the few things that could spoil that feeling.

               “He was so talented at piloting ‘Mechs,” Rachel was continuing.  “He could have gotten into any academy he wanted, if he’d just been willing to wait until he was old enough.  I should have looked into the early admissions, I just couldn’t get a message through the HPG…”

               “It’s know, mom,” Marie said quickly.  “By the way, I’m going to try landing.”

               “All right, nose up and come in slow.”

               Marie said nothing to this as she concentrated on getting the Blossom under control as she descended.  With legs instead of wheels under her, landing the AirMech promised to be a tricky affair.

               “I haven’t heard anything new from Daniel yet.  Do you think he’ll be able to find us out here?” Rachel asked. 

               “I don’t know, mom, we’re on the edge of civilization.  I’m sure if he’s got anything to say we’ll get it.”  Not that I expect to hear from him, she thought.

               “I don’t know…” Rachel said.  “It took us so long to get out here.  And if he’s out in the fighting…”

               “We’ll hear from him when he’s ready, all right?” Marie bit out. 

               The Blossom’s feet hit the ground and she stumbled, staggering forward for a few heart-stopping seconds before ultimately losing her balance and crashing to the ground.  The simulator screen winked off again, leaving Marie sitting frustrated in the darkness.

               “Well, landing’s usually the hard part anyway,” Rachel said.

               Marie groaned again and pulled off her neurohelmet.  “I’ve got to get to work.  Same time tomorrow?”

               “Sounds good.  You said you’re escorting the next shipment, right?  Let’s have dinner when you get here.”

               “Sure, mom.”

               Marie terminated the connection and got out of the simulator.  That drink with the techs was sounding really tempting right now, but time was not on her side.  She had to get to the Blossom and start her guard patrol around the Plant if she didn’t want Thomas on her back yet again.  The patrol promised to be agonizing as well: getting back in the ‘Mech meant having a Meridian producer in her ear telling her how to move and what shots he was looking for.  She told herself it was still something worthwhile.  She needed some time with no one yelling at her or bringing up old hurts.  Even if all she did was run circles around the Plant while holo crews filmed her, it was something. 

 

*End of Chapter 9*

 

Thanks for reading!

Battletech and Mechwarrior are the property of Catalyst Game Labs.

Rachel McCloud and the Bristol are creations of James Long, who among other things wrote Main Event and DRT for the Battletech universe.

Discount Dan's is a creation of the Black Pants Legion.

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