NORTH OF TIBSHELF

BLUE MOUNTAINS

GILLINGHAM

FEDERATED SUNS

09:06, 02 JUNE 3044

Something was definitely wrong, or so Anne thought.

Other than the obvious of course, but that was beside the point.

The camp had begun to break over an hour ago now, the slow process of getting half a hundred people and their stuff organised, packed away, and properly stored in any sort of logical fashion was taking time to do. Even with Jamie’s analytical mind, and the delegation of duties to competent people, this was quite the undertaking.

She tried to imagine scaling this up to something like the size of a fully-equipped military company and stopped before she gave herself a headache. Only being in charge of packing away the medical supplies — Nasir was looking after the non-walking wounded, who would go in the medical Sherpa last — was bad enough for her. She had wondered how Elise had managed to do it, back in the old days, then realised the AFFS probably employed specific people to manage that kind of thing.

Like a professional army ought to.

Gloved hands on her hips, scarf pulled up over her nose to protect from the biting wind, Anne watched Sara like a hawk as the pirate – former or otherwise – loaded boxes with unnerving enthusiasm, ignoring the occasional hostile looks she was getting from the other assistants in the process. Anne chose to let this slide unless it turned into violence, herself too distracted by glancing at Jamie, who had been staring towards the entrance of their valley for a while now, a concerned expression clear on their face.

One of the Powermen stomped past, deliberately placing heavy footfalls close together in an effort to pack down the deep snow as much as possible. Getting their vehicles out was going to be a chore, no matter how rugged they were.

Another glance at Jamie and she sighed, gestured to Lynne to keep an eye on Sara, then began to trudge her way over to their young captain. It was much easier to move about now that the IndustrialMech had been through, but it was still a miserable experience.

At least we’re getting out of here, she thought. Soon we’ll have some goddamn central heating… And, oh god, some actual food! Oh, oh, and I’ll have a toilet that’s not just a hole in the ground!

As she reached the young Captain, she could see they were agitated, their body language stiff, fingers clasping and unclasping a buckle over and over again.

“What’s wrong?” she asked bluntly.

Their frown deepened, jaw worked a second, and Anne was ready to receive a “Nothing” and equally ready to give back an earful in return.

Instead, Jamie replied, “Bloody hell, what isn’t.”

Anne snorted. “Anything specific?” 

Now they looked at her, their brown eyes worried, burdened, and oh so very tired.

“It’s the infantry I sent on recon,” they confided. “They should have been back by now with the final report.”

“Ah,” Anne nodded. “Maybe they ran into trouble and just got delayed?”

“Crossed my mind,” Jamie replied tightly. “And that presents an entirely different set of problems; like what if they lead the enemy back here?”

“Right…” Anne grimaced. “What are you going to do?”

Jamie ran a hand across their face sighed.

“Can’t wait for them much longer,” they said. “I’ll send Ronnie out to have a look around while we’re packing up; if there’s no word by then they’ll get left behind.”

Anne was about to protest but held her tongue. This was a military matter at work. This was one of the hard decisions, the so-called greater sodding good, the cutting away of a limb to save the body.

As much as she hated it, she understood it.

“Bowman!” Jamie yelled, getting the attention of Ronnie where she loitered in conversation with Monty. “Mount up and head out! Rapid sweep along our intended route! Remember comms silence!”

The young MechWarrior let out a small squeal of delight, just about remembered to salute, then headed off at a sprint towards her ‘Mech, the upper surfaces of which were still being cleared by Abe Sandoval’s ‘Techs. Monty watched her go for a moment before ambling over to where Anne and Jamie were stood.

Dispossessed of his Thunderbolt, no-one seemed to know what to do with the old man, least of all Monty himself. He wasn’t officially part of the chain of command so had taken to chipping in where he could, talking to the others in his rambling way and generally trying to be useful. People seemed to appreciate his presence, though in confidence he had admitted a worry that he was just getting in the way.

“There a problem?” He asked curiously.

Jamie gave him a Look, and it was the most unprofessional she had seen the young captain.

Monty chuckled apologetically and said, “I see… Anything I can help with?”

“Just… keep helping get stuff squared away, lend a hand where you can, things like that,” Jamie replied. “Speaking of…” They turned towards Anne. “Is Elise up and about?”

The nurse grimaced and shook her head.

“Better get her, then,” Jamie instructed. “Does she know what’s happening?”

Another shake.

“You really should do that too.”

“I… fine, alright,” Anne replied uncertainly.

The three of them watched as Ronnie, showing remarkable restraint, manoeuvred her Locust slowly and carefully through the busy campsite, giving every air of an eager hound on a short leash, until she was free of the mess of people and tents. She quickly opened the throttle to full, the ‘Mech kicking up clouds of powdery snow as it leapt into action and quickly disappeared around the curve of the valley.

Anne watched her go and sighed, waving vaguely to the others as she headed off towards her tent, one of the very few left in place. Within, Elise was right where she had left her, the same place she had been for days and days without any sign of improvement. Shuffling along on her knees to avoid taking off her boots she shook Elise by the shoulder. Or at least she thought it was, the bundled cocoon of her sleeping bag made it difficult to tell which end was which.

“Elise, love, it’s time to get up,” she tried gently.

Not a sign of the other woman having heard her.

She tried again a bit harder.

“Come on, camp’s breaking,” she urged.

A rustle, a movement, and a pale, freckled face emerged from the end closest to her.

“What, why?” Elise asked blearily.

“We’re moving out,” Anne replied.

“Where? New position?” Elise was starting to look more animated now, the wheels of her military training pushing her into motion, not so much alieving what she was going through as forcing a temporary compartmentalisation. 

“Uh… Yeah, yeah, a new position,” Anne told her, wincing when the lie just slipped out.

“Oh, makes sense,” Elise was out of the bag now  for the first time in a while — voluntarily at least — and got dressed before busying herself with the motions of packing. “It’s been a few days since we last moved.”

Anne stared at her.

After a second, Elise caught the look. “What?”

“Love…” Anne said gently. “It’s been over a fortnight.”

Elise stopped, her face dropping as the reality of what had happened set in.

“Oh…” It was such a small voice, as out of place on a woman of this calibre as wings on a fish. She paused in her packing to stare into the middle distance, fingers twisting through the crumpled shirt she had been in the process of stuffing into a bag, face as unreadable as a rock.

“Elise…” Anne began, shuffling closer. She tentatively touched her on the shoulder, then when there was no resistance, drew her fully into an awkward sideways hug. “You went through a lot and pushed yourself so far… You needed the time to recover.”

Elise placed a hand on Anne’s arm and, just when she thought she was going to pull it away, leaned into the hug. A strange mix of feelings coursed through Anne but she pushed them back and focussed on the person in need.

“Not exactly injured…” Elise grumbled lamely.

“Not physically,” Anne pointed out. “Not counting the leg anyway, but you know what I mean; you’re no less of a casualty than anyone on Nasir’s stretchers.”

Elise made a noise that suggested she didn’t quite believe it, even if she apparently wasn’t going to argue the point. They remained like that for a time longer, until Anne’s legs began to hurt from the strange position, not that she minded.

“Okay, you can let go now,” Elise told her, patting her arm and doing her best to put on a wry voice. “I won’t fall down.”

“Oh, right,” Anne replied bashfully, pulling away quickly. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be,” Elise managed a small smile, like a glimpse of the sun on a cloudy day and just as fleeting, returning to packing.

“Alright,” Anne nodded, smiling too, helping gather stuff up.

“I’ve been thinking…” Elise began.

“Oh?” Anne replied, managing to avoid the obvious joke about straining herself.

“If… when we get through this,” Elise continued, correcting herself with obvious force. “I want to take you out somewhere, like a meal or something, as a thank you.”

“Oh! No you don—.”

“But I want to,” Elise interjected. “I don’t care if it’s your job or whatever, I just want us to have some kind of interaction for once that doesn’t have… all of this weighing over us, okay? You’re not just my nurse, you’re my friend too and I want to do something nice for you when we get the chance.”

Friend. It had been such an easy thing to forget. It had been such an easy thing to lie to her.

“Okay,” was all Anne could say around the knot of guilt in her stomach.

They quickly got Elise packed up — Anne had sorted her things a while ago — and began taking down the tent with brisk efficiency. With something to do, a measurable and defined task rather than idling in camp, Elise seemed better at keeping herself together.

They were stuffing it back into its case with more speed than care when the sound of rapid, heavy footsteps caused them to look towards the valley entrance, just in time for Ronnie to hurtle around a bend, almost topple as she slid on snow and ice, right herself, then thunder into camp at reckless speeds, just about remembering to slow down in time enough not to plough into one of the Powermen.

Jamie was already hurrying over, comm unit raised to their lips.

“Ronnie was on patrol?” Elise queried, her brow furrowed.

“Yeah, some of the infantry failed to check in…” Anne explained, getting that creeping feeling of wrongness again. “She went to check out our route but… she shouldn’t be back yet.”

The two women looked at each other, dropped what they were doing, and rushed over the recently-packed snow to where Ronnie’s ‘Mech was stood, her agitation showing through the bearing of the giant machine as it shifted from foot to foot.

“What’s going on?” Elise asked as she approached. 

Jamie looked up, no sign of surprise on their face, no “How are you?”, just straight to business in their usual efficient manner. It was exactly what Elise needed.

“Armoured column heading this way, no time to evacuate, lance of ‘Mechs, lance of tanks, ETA five minutes,” Jamie explained grimly. “We need to get our non-combatants further down the valley and mount a defence at the chokepoint.” 

“What’s their composition?” Elise asked.

Jamie just handed her the comms unit.

“Talk to me Ronnie, what are we looking at?” she spoke into the receiver.

“Elise! Hi! Oh, uh, how—,” the younger woman replied with much less tact with the captain.

“Give me some designations, Bowman,” Elise cut her off sternly. She was reverting into “Soldier Elise” again, probably as a defence mechanism.

“Right, yes, uh, IFFs appear to be disabled, uhh… counted four Goblins of standard variant, a…” there was a pause like she was reading from a screen. “CPLT-C1, a HBK-4G, a GHR-5H, and a… COM-2D taking the lead.”

“Thank you,” Elise replied, handing the comms back to Jamie. They shared a look, some unspoken understanding of the situation passing between them.

Jamie nodded.

“Put the Manticore on the inside corner there, use the rocks for cover, alpha the first one then get them scurrying back around the bend,” Elise suggested. “I’ll get up on the valley wall in ambush position, maybe use the jets to get behind them, and Bowman can do what she does best and get among them, cause chaos; infantry can break out the tubes from ambush positions. If we can block the entrance with a wreck then we can bottle them.”

Another nod and Jamie hurried away towards their tank, beginning to give orders to that effect. The organised chaos of the camp breaking down turned more disorganised as people gathered up equipment and rushed to their assigned positions.

“How’s it looking?” Anne asked, already sure of the answer.

Elise let out a small, bitter laugh then took her hands.

“I don’t think we’re going to get that meal,” she said, again using a wry smile to try and cover her true feelings. “Get your truck up the valley and stay safe, okay?”

Before Anne could argue, Elise pulled her into a close, tight embrace, tight enough that she could feel it through both their heavy outer clothes, and let go of her, running towards the snow-shrouded form of her Clint. Anne took a deep breath and watched her go, unable to shake the feeling that they wouldn’t make it to Arrow Town after all.

 

09:21

“...All systems nominal.”

The ‘Mech finished its startup sequence, climate control already beginning to heat the cockpit to a point that would ease the goosebumps on Elise’s bare skin. 

She had been sorely neglecting the old girl, even if Abe and his ‘Techs had done their best to keep things operational since the last fight — and repaired what damage they could. It was still a far cry from even the ill-maintained machine that she had “borrowed” from the militia garrison in Tibshelf all those weeks ago.

It was just another thing for her to add to the litany of failures that echoed through her mind, gathering in a dark cloud behind her eyes and pushing at the fragile barrier that was only just preventing it from crashing over her psyche and sweeping it all away.

“At least it won’t be a problem for much longer…” she muttered.

There was going to be no getting out of this one. They had less than a lance of units that barely worked and the pirates were coming at them with two fresh ones, including a bunch of heavy hitters like the Catapult, Grasshopper, and Hunchback. It seems like there had been ‘Mechs on that Buccaneer after all.

It’s a shame, really, she had just been getting used to the idea of that meal. Just goes to show what happens when she dares to imagine being happy again.

Forcing back her feelings, she tuned into the comms, immediately hearing Walters' voice against a background of mechanical noise that suggested they were already in their Manticore. They were confirming unit positions and reinforcing orders, every inch the calm commander that people needed at a moment like this.

“Nibs reporting in, all systems green,” she informed them. 

“Acknowledged; get in position,” came the reply. 

“Affirmative,” Elise replied.

She placed her hands on the controls and pushed her Clint into motion, feeling the thrill of being in control of a ‘Mech again, that power and stature as she towered over the people scurrying about her feet.

Flicking to her external speakers, she ordered, “Clear for jump!”

Immediately, anyone still incautiously close scattered out of the way. She glanced across her cameras, making sure no-one was left in the blast zone, then slammed down on the pedals. Her fusion engine whined, chassis rattling and jets rumbling, filling her cockpit with heat as she pushed forty tonnes of war machine into the air, expertly angling the trajectory towards the steep mountainside.

Bracing for the landing, she used her arms for extra grip, nevertheless feeling the jarring impact, sliding somewhat down the slope on landing and dislodging a couple dozen square metres of fresh snow in the process. Her feet caught on the outcroppings she had been aiming for, stopping her descent.

An exhaled breath, cautiously moving her torso to free her gun arm, angling it towards the valley entrance. A few precise shots was all she would have the chance for, using all of her skill — and the Clint’s targeting systems — to crack some cockpits and rattle some nerves. Then would come the brawl.

She was going to take as many with her as she could.

Below her she could see the Manticore lying in wait, blocky and dangerous, Ronnie’s Locust pacing nervously up and down behind it. The infantry were lost from sight in their cover, ready to do their best with what meagre weapons they had. All of them were braver than they believed. All them would die.

“Contact contact!” One of the infantry spotters squawked urgently into comms.

This was it. She readied her AC/5, finger on the trigger, ready for—

Proximity alarms bleated as something came rocketing over the other side of her mountain. It was the Grasshopper, barely light enough to even fit in the “heavy” bracket yet still able to jump like its namesake. Seventy tonnes of white-painted terror landed barely thirty metres away with a grace that spoke of a skilled pilot, using its paired hand actuators to great advantage when stabilising its position on the mountain. It must have been hopping across the sides, looking to circle around them.

Elise froze, staring in paralysed horror at the thing close enough to spit at. She had seen it and it had seen her, there was no way of getting out of this one.

She had almost regained her faculties, about to trigger her jumpers and fire her weapons, when she realised something: if the Grasshopper was going to fire at it her had already been given ample opportunity.

Then she noticed something else: on the left side of the ‘Mech’s chest, surrounded by barely enough blue to make it stand out, was the emblem of a rearing white horse.

“This is Nibs to all units!” she hastily spoke into the Militia general channel. “Hold fire! I repeat, hold fire!”

“Say again?” Walters replied tensely.

Instead of her, a different voice came over the same channel, male and with a definite Gillingham accent. “This is Lieutenant Hornbuckle of the Gillingham Militia, Harlow’s Landing garrison,” he said, voice carrying an amused tone. “I’d very much appreciate if you didn’t shoot us.”

All at once, Elise’s HUD lit up with a plethora of different pings as the newcomers activated their IFF transponders all at once, each and every one of them displaying the signature of the friendly units.