Cameron Continent
Sinclair
Periphery
28 July 3049
The next day saw the 17th Independent Nova following a rough trail westwards away from the sea. The majority of settlement of Sinclair was
around a shallow gulf that sprawled across the eastern coast of Cameron, but a vast triangluar swathe of the interior more than three thousand kilometers long
had been set aside as a military reservation for training just like this. Dozens of military posts usually used for field testing and the occasional
sibko's training had been cleared for use by the Star Adder touman and for the next four weeks, the moutains, forests and grasslands would see warfare on a
scale all but unheard of for the Clans.
Costigan was moving swiftly, his Assassin easily eating up the road at over a hundred kilometers every hour even with the added burden of
five tons of battle armor riding on the outside of the forty ton battlemech. In front of him Oscar's Point One were in a loose v-formation across the road,
scouting for the formation just as Point Two were playing rear guard behind the other two Assassins.
The new battlemech - new indeed, for it was fresh from one of Sinclair's handful of battlemech factories only two months earlier - was
considerably more comfortable than Costigan had expected. As the technical documents had advised him, the designers had gone back to the original Star League
Defense Force designs brought on the Exodus and determined that many of the 'useless luxuries' dispensed with in more modern OmniMechs were in fact of
considerable benefit on an extended campaign. In theory, Costigan would not need to leave his cockpit for the next week or so, with the stock of rations, water
and the like that had been tucked into corners of the cockpit - although in practise, Oscar had been careful to ensure that they were all well-versed in the
resupply points set up in quiet co-ordination with Galaxy Commander Duke Togo's staff so that the irregulars could restock their food, water and other
consumables every few days if necessary.
It was late in the day that the small force reached the mountain valleys that seperated the coastal lands from the interior plains. For
obvious reasons there were no markers, but Oscar called a halt before they crossed the assumed boundary, the battlemechs and protomechs forming a loose circle
to one side of the trail. Costigan watched in fascination as the chestplates of the Asps unfolded enough for their pilots to emerge from the fetal positions
that they took inside the six metre tall warmachines and scrambled down into the laps of their rides. All looked disorientated and Oscar had to assist one of
them in dosing herself with the drugs to cushion the aftereffects of disconnecting.
"What could have persuaded you do this?" Costigan asked brashly, looking down from his cockpit's hatch.
"Come down here and say that, child," snarled one of the more alert of the proto-jocks, raising his fist menacingly. A former
aerojock, it should have looked foolish on his slight form but the fury in his eyes was impressive as he made for the Assassin.
Oscar swept his hand out to block the warrior from trying to ascend Costigan's Mech. "He is young, Saul. He does not
understand." He shifted his gaze up to Costigan. "The average age of an Asp pilot is forty," he told the Mechwarrior. "For us, it is this
or the ranks of the solahma. We have little to no hope of obtaining bloodnames. Only here, in these Asps, can we take one last chance at having our genes pass
on to the next generation. If the Asps prove worthy then the bloodname houses will want our blood to create new genotypes suited to them. Do not mock our last
chance to win glory."
Costigan looked away, embarassed, and then looked back. "I apologise, Warrior," he told Saul. "I do understand. My sibko was
the last produced using matrilineal seed from the Horstein bloodline before we lost our last bloodright in the House to the Hells Horses. Unless I can win a
Grand Melee where every other warrior is a member of another clan, I have no hope at all of a bloodname. Perhaps one day, I will make the same choice that you
have."
Saul grunted and nodded. "They are fine machines," he promised Costigan. "I can go places you can never take that giant of
yours. The Inner Sphere will learn to fear our bite."
"Yes," Oscar said. "But first we must teach this respect to our brothers and sisters. There will be a transmission tonight
from Duke Togo, giving us our first assignment."
Costigan considered what he recalled of the maps of the area loaded into their navigation computers. "Unless we are lucky enough that
both of the two nearest bases are picked for friendly clusters, we will probably be expected to scout them for him."
Oscar nodded. To simulate the fog of war, the forty-two clusters participating in the exercise had been deployed to bases randomly selected
from the hundred or so facilities scattered across the region. Since communication satellites in geostationary orbit provided secure communications, the only
way to find out if a base was empty or housed hostile warriors was to investigate, a role that the 17th Independent Nova was well suited for.
"The larger base would be a strategic position if we needed to control this valley," Saul observed, "But since the valley
sides are not steep enough to actually stop an attack and it only leads out of the training grounds, it is not very valuable. The smaller base is very
defensible though - only two routes lead to it and both are easily guarded. If we need to root someone out of it then it will be a tough job,
quiaff?"
"Aff," agreed Oscar. "We have both served here for several years," he reminded Costigan. "This is not the first time
that we have visited this ground to fight over it and Saul speaks truly. Kerensky himself would not wish to storm that fortress. It is high on a ridge, built
within a hollow and only one slope is shallow enough for a battlemech to scale. There is a crevasse at the rear large enough for our Asps or battle armor
however."
Costigan frowned. "Are the other slopes so steep that a BattleMech could not find footholds? I know that Assassins were tested here, and
there are few obstructions have no places that a jump of two hundred metres could not scale."
"Perhaps a place or two," Saul said thoughtfully. "But none where you could send many at once and all are easily covered by
the weapons of Battlemechs within the base."
Five hours later, the little column was moving on. It seemed that at the last minute, the seven Galaxy Command Stars had been deployed on
their own rather than with a Cluster. Duke Togo and the four handpicked warriors of Alpha Command had been dropped into the smaller of the two nearer bases.
Until the nearest Cluster arrived - well into the next day it seemed - they would be easy prey to any roving forces, even a unit as small as the
17th.
"Remember," Oscar said as they loped up the trail. "We are not there to take heads. Go crazy in there and I swear by
Kerensky's name that I will have you sent back to the Homeworlds. All we are to do is find out of the base is occupied or not. If anyone is there, then we
already know that they will not be friendly. Right now even one shot - however well placed - could be enough to betray us and by extension Galaxy
Command."
"I think we all picked that up the third time that you reminded us," Saul replied. "Stop scaring the younger generations. If
it was not for their Trials of Position I would think that they had not even been shot at yet."
"I have so!" protested Mackinnison, from the back of the line of Assassins that made up the core of the column.
Costigan sighed. The little band had been bickering for most of the last hour, since Togo's orders had arrived - something that was
probably driving Oscar even more up the wall than it was Costigan, since he hadn't been so repetitive yesterday. With all this radio chatter, it was
amazing that...
"We are idiots," Costigan said out loud.
"What?"
"Everyone switch to relaying our transmissions through the satellite," the young Mechwarrior ordered, "This channel is not
secure."
"What?" Saul said. "Look, youngster, this channel is triple encoded."
"In one of our own clan encryptions," pointed out Costigan. "Which everyone in the area has. On both sides."
"Freebirth..." Oscar whispered. "Do what he says." A moment later he continued on the more secure tightbeam. "And
turn around. If anyone picked that up then they will be heading right for the Galaxy Commander and that means we need to reinforce him right now. Good catch,
Costigan. I wonder how many people thought of that and kept it quiet to exploit now."
"Let us hope that if there is a Cluster at the next base, no one there had thought of it," Costigan said. "Send word to Duke
Togo - he needs to warn everyone of this straight away."
Oscar relayed the message on an open microphone so that everyone in the Nova knew what he was saying. "Good thinking," Duke
confirmed, clearly audible to them all. "Mechwarrior Costigan is the first person in Alpha Galaxy to raise that. Now that he has, I can warn the rest of
the force."
"You already knew about this?" Oscar asked in a stricken voice.
Duke's voice didn't vary from its usual cold tone. "A Galaxy Commander has more important things to do than to think for his
junior officers, Star Commander Oscar. My purpose in this exercise is less to defeat our opponents than it is to weed out the unfit from Alpha Galaxy. Better
to find them now than in true battle."
"That was cold," Costigan said when he was sure that the Galaxy Commander was no longer on the line.
Oscar's voice, in contrast to that of their Commander, sounded defeated. "He is a merciless commander, Costigan. Brilliant, but also
a perfectionist. It is no surprise that his genetic legacy is sought after."
"I doubt his company is."
Saul's voice was wry. "You might be surprised."
D for Drakensis
You're only young once, but immaturity is forever.
Sinclair
Periphery
28 July 3049
The next day saw the 17th Independent Nova following a rough trail westwards away from the sea. The majority of settlement of Sinclair was
around a shallow gulf that sprawled across the eastern coast of Cameron, but a vast triangluar swathe of the interior more than three thousand kilometers long
had been set aside as a military reservation for training just like this. Dozens of military posts usually used for field testing and the occasional
sibko's training had been cleared for use by the Star Adder touman and for the next four weeks, the moutains, forests and grasslands would see warfare on a
scale all but unheard of for the Clans.
Costigan was moving swiftly, his Assassin easily eating up the road at over a hundred kilometers every hour even with the added burden of
five tons of battle armor riding on the outside of the forty ton battlemech. In front of him Oscar's Point One were in a loose v-formation across the road,
scouting for the formation just as Point Two were playing rear guard behind the other two Assassins.
The new battlemech - new indeed, for it was fresh from one of Sinclair's handful of battlemech factories only two months earlier - was
considerably more comfortable than Costigan had expected. As the technical documents had advised him, the designers had gone back to the original Star League
Defense Force designs brought on the Exodus and determined that many of the 'useless luxuries' dispensed with in more modern OmniMechs were in fact of
considerable benefit on an extended campaign. In theory, Costigan would not need to leave his cockpit for the next week or so, with the stock of rations, water
and the like that had been tucked into corners of the cockpit - although in practise, Oscar had been careful to ensure that they were all well-versed in the
resupply points set up in quiet co-ordination with Galaxy Commander Duke Togo's staff so that the irregulars could restock their food, water and other
consumables every few days if necessary.
It was late in the day that the small force reached the mountain valleys that seperated the coastal lands from the interior plains. For
obvious reasons there were no markers, but Oscar called a halt before they crossed the assumed boundary, the battlemechs and protomechs forming a loose circle
to one side of the trail. Costigan watched in fascination as the chestplates of the Asps unfolded enough for their pilots to emerge from the fetal positions
that they took inside the six metre tall warmachines and scrambled down into the laps of their rides. All looked disorientated and Oscar had to assist one of
them in dosing herself with the drugs to cushion the aftereffects of disconnecting.
"What could have persuaded you do this?" Costigan asked brashly, looking down from his cockpit's hatch.
"Come down here and say that, child," snarled one of the more alert of the proto-jocks, raising his fist menacingly. A former
aerojock, it should have looked foolish on his slight form but the fury in his eyes was impressive as he made for the Assassin.
Oscar swept his hand out to block the warrior from trying to ascend Costigan's Mech. "He is young, Saul. He does not
understand." He shifted his gaze up to Costigan. "The average age of an Asp pilot is forty," he told the Mechwarrior. "For us, it is this
or the ranks of the solahma. We have little to no hope of obtaining bloodnames. Only here, in these Asps, can we take one last chance at having our genes pass
on to the next generation. If the Asps prove worthy then the bloodname houses will want our blood to create new genotypes suited to them. Do not mock our last
chance to win glory."
Costigan looked away, embarassed, and then looked back. "I apologise, Warrior," he told Saul. "I do understand. My sibko was
the last produced using matrilineal seed from the Horstein bloodline before we lost our last bloodright in the House to the Hells Horses. Unless I can win a
Grand Melee where every other warrior is a member of another clan, I have no hope at all of a bloodname. Perhaps one day, I will make the same choice that you
have."
Saul grunted and nodded. "They are fine machines," he promised Costigan. "I can go places you can never take that giant of
yours. The Inner Sphere will learn to fear our bite."
"Yes," Oscar said. "But first we must teach this respect to our brothers and sisters. There will be a transmission tonight
from Duke Togo, giving us our first assignment."
Costigan considered what he recalled of the maps of the area loaded into their navigation computers. "Unless we are lucky enough that
both of the two nearest bases are picked for friendly clusters, we will probably be expected to scout them for him."
Oscar nodded. To simulate the fog of war, the forty-two clusters participating in the exercise had been deployed to bases randomly selected
from the hundred or so facilities scattered across the region. Since communication satellites in geostationary orbit provided secure communications, the only
way to find out if a base was empty or housed hostile warriors was to investigate, a role that the 17th Independent Nova was well suited for.
"The larger base would be a strategic position if we needed to control this valley," Saul observed, "But since the valley
sides are not steep enough to actually stop an attack and it only leads out of the training grounds, it is not very valuable. The smaller base is very
defensible though - only two routes lead to it and both are easily guarded. If we need to root someone out of it then it will be a tough job,
quiaff?"
"Aff," agreed Oscar. "We have both served here for several years," he reminded Costigan. "This is not the first time
that we have visited this ground to fight over it and Saul speaks truly. Kerensky himself would not wish to storm that fortress. It is high on a ridge, built
within a hollow and only one slope is shallow enough for a battlemech to scale. There is a crevasse at the rear large enough for our Asps or battle armor
however."
Costigan frowned. "Are the other slopes so steep that a BattleMech could not find footholds? I know that Assassins were tested here, and
there are few obstructions have no places that a jump of two hundred metres could not scale."
"Perhaps a place or two," Saul said thoughtfully. "But none where you could send many at once and all are easily covered by
the weapons of Battlemechs within the base."
Five hours later, the little column was moving on. It seemed that at the last minute, the seven Galaxy Command Stars had been deployed on
their own rather than with a Cluster. Duke Togo and the four handpicked warriors of Alpha Command had been dropped into the smaller of the two nearer bases.
Until the nearest Cluster arrived - well into the next day it seemed - they would be easy prey to any roving forces, even a unit as small as the
17th.
"Remember," Oscar said as they loped up the trail. "We are not there to take heads. Go crazy in there and I swear by
Kerensky's name that I will have you sent back to the Homeworlds. All we are to do is find out of the base is occupied or not. If anyone is there, then we
already know that they will not be friendly. Right now even one shot - however well placed - could be enough to betray us and by extension Galaxy
Command."
"I think we all picked that up the third time that you reminded us," Saul replied. "Stop scaring the younger generations. If
it was not for their Trials of Position I would think that they had not even been shot at yet."
"I have so!" protested Mackinnison, from the back of the line of Assassins that made up the core of the column.
Costigan sighed. The little band had been bickering for most of the last hour, since Togo's orders had arrived - something that was
probably driving Oscar even more up the wall than it was Costigan, since he hadn't been so repetitive yesterday. With all this radio chatter, it was
amazing that...
"We are idiots," Costigan said out loud.
"What?"
"Everyone switch to relaying our transmissions through the satellite," the young Mechwarrior ordered, "This channel is not
secure."
"What?" Saul said. "Look, youngster, this channel is triple encoded."
"In one of our own clan encryptions," pointed out Costigan. "Which everyone in the area has. On both sides."
"Freebirth..." Oscar whispered. "Do what he says." A moment later he continued on the more secure tightbeam. "And
turn around. If anyone picked that up then they will be heading right for the Galaxy Commander and that means we need to reinforce him right now. Good catch,
Costigan. I wonder how many people thought of that and kept it quiet to exploit now."
"Let us hope that if there is a Cluster at the next base, no one there had thought of it," Costigan said. "Send word to Duke
Togo - he needs to warn everyone of this straight away."
Oscar relayed the message on an open microphone so that everyone in the Nova knew what he was saying. "Good thinking," Duke
confirmed, clearly audible to them all. "Mechwarrior Costigan is the first person in Alpha Galaxy to raise that. Now that he has, I can warn the rest of
the force."
"You already knew about this?" Oscar asked in a stricken voice.
Duke's voice didn't vary from its usual cold tone. "A Galaxy Commander has more important things to do than to think for his
junior officers, Star Commander Oscar. My purpose in this exercise is less to defeat our opponents than it is to weed out the unfit from Alpha Galaxy. Better
to find them now than in true battle."
"That was cold," Costigan said when he was sure that the Galaxy Commander was no longer on the line.
Oscar's voice, in contrast to that of their Commander, sounded defeated. "He is a merciless commander, Costigan. Brilliant, but also
a perfectionist. It is no surprise that his genetic legacy is sought after."
"I doubt his company is."
Saul's voice was wry. "You might be surprised."
D for Drakensis
You're only young once, but immaturity is forever.