Chapter 2
Dangers of Business.
Jansen's Hold
5th March, 3022
The common room on our Leopard was astir with activity as we waited for Markham to secure out next contract, I sat with boots up as I studied the data pad in hand. The analytics of the engagement against the mercenaries that had been hired to conduct the little raid on our last employer. There had been little damage of consequence, there were plenty of spares for my equipment in the mech bay for a short time at least. But it brought up a problem I hadn't considered.
My energy armaments were too short ranged to be sustainable. Continued engagements at those ranges would become a consistent drain on my armour. If I continued close range engagements my plentiful supplies would dwindle rapidly, and that lead to the main problem. The very real possibility that sustaining those close engagements would degrade the Knight's combat performance, trying to save ammunition would become redundant.
Glitch sat on the opposite side of the table as Behemoth and Dekker had a few hands at cards. "Wassup Warden, you're frowning a lot for someone who kicked the crap out of a couple Lances of Scout mechs?"
"Balancing cheques." I said working out the information. The effectiveness of the Ion Shield was moderate at best, covering a limited field as it did. "I think I need to get a contractor to manufacture ammunition specifically for me, my weapons are specialist jobs."
"You're telling me... seeing that Commando's front end just melt..." Glitch said with a bit of glee, "it was badass, if not as badass as throwing the Spider into a Hunchie." She mimed the expression she imagined the Hunchback's pilot had.
The chirpy if slightly deranged woman's attitude was infectious and I couldn't help but grin. My mood improved, but still tempered by the knowledge that sooner or later i'd have to share some of the Knight's secrets. "Oh I dunno, I think the Spiders pilot was probably more surprised." Taking a draught of the drink before me I grimaced and pushed it forwards. "Never liked alcohol."
The part that worried me most was that news of our engagement hadn't hit the media in any way.
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It had been a week and a half now since the engagement, and affairs were becoming concerned. Markham was growing more restless and had called this meeting. "Things aren't great," he reversed a chair sitting on it, "I can't help but feel like we're being stonewalled, and a couple contacts have noticed some shifty types watching our dropship. Fortunately, the MRB doesn't seem to be effected by whatever the source of stonewalling is and they've offered us one contract that is extremely tempting, with transport included and decent salvage rights."
Behemoth and Glitch shared a glance at one another. A lifeline when things are looking grim is always welcome. But the sense of things being a trap never quite went away.
"The pay is a million C-Bills, security for a Federated Suns team looking for some old SLDF ruins in the periphery," Markham sighed, "the pay is too good to turn down, but..."
"So, the good news is some idiot in a shiny suit is offering a million c-bills to go to the ass-end of nowhere and play security guard. Meaning the bad news is some idiot in a shiny suit is paying well over the going rate for a security job... it's a death trap." I said frowning.
"It's a death trap. My guess is some company is paying well over the odds to check out something they're not supposed to be anywhere near and don't want their competition to interfere." Markham confirmed. "They haven't said what they think requires such a high value contract, but Darius has make some discreet enquiries and it seems that there is some Capellan interests involved which brings us to the flipside of the contract."
He looked worried.
"A condition of the contract is that, if there is another party present at the site when we arrive, we're expected to evict them." Markham said, a note of distaste in his voice. Glitch looked unconcerned, Behemoth frowned at the thought, Dekker and Medusa were doing a good job of maintaining a poker face.
"Evict nicely, or from the mortal coil?" I asked.
"They didn't specify. So I assume that's up to us," Markham looked at the data in his hand, "this job pays well, but stinks to high heavens. If it were the Capellans or Combine offering it, i'd be taking a Jumpship in the other direction, but it's the Federated Suns, so there's a good chance that the job is being offered in good faith."
"Sounds like a good job to me boss." Glitch said.
"Let's at least take this one careful-like." Dekker said with a shrug. Medusa nodded, "Dekker's on the money, if he and I check it out first. It'll leave you, Warden and the ladies to come in, and if necessary rescue us."
Markham looked over at Behemoth. "Wouldn't be the first time I got my hands dirty."
As his expression turned to me I felt the gears turning in my head. Killing science folk just because they beat us there wasn't something I'd signed on for. But that was the life of a Mercenary so maybe I did.. "Don't like the idea of killing non-combatants, but I don't see what choice we've got but to take the job."
Markham nodded. "Don't much care for the thought myself Warden, ok, i'll complete negotiations on the contract this afternoon. Get your shit together people."
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There was a knock at the door to my quarters as I lay back, trying to relax while we were under thrust. "Come in." I said putting down the datapad. Behemoth ducked under the doorframe and took a seat. "Hey Warden." Her presence here surprised me.
"Hey Behemoth, what's up?" I gave her my attention.
She fidgeted for a second before staring at me. "You seemed to have reservations about the job, I came to... I had to be sure that we can count on you." The note of concern was touching but seemed a little out of place. "If things.."
I sat up and swung my legs over the edge of the bed. "Of course you can count on me," I said picking up a second datapad, "Not to murder folk in cold blood if I can avoid it, but when the shit hits the heat sinks I'll be there." I passed her the datapad.
"What's this?" She said examining it, the unfamiliar language of Low Gothic confusing.
"I can't afford to keep getting up close and personal, and something about this job stinks, so I've spoken to Yang and i'm going with a more heavy loadout for this job. The Thermal Cannon and Thunderstrike Gauntlet are coming off, i'm mounting the Avenger Gatling Cannon and Rapid Fire Battle Cannon as well as installing the Icarus Interceptor Array." I said as I adjusted my position. "If anything gets close, the carapace mounted meltagun should discourage them, and if not, a hundred and forty tonne stomp aught to do so."
She studied the diagram with a cocked head.
"And if the order comes to kill a noncombatant?" Behemoth asked.
"That is a bridge i'll cross when we come to it." I said, still uncertain exactly what I would do in that situation. Behemoth passed back the datapad with a nod.
"We're all tested at some point."
"It's not times of plenty that show a mans true character," I said agreeing, "it is when the times are hard, the chips are on the table and the end seems near. It is only then you will see the true character of a person. Do they cower and shy before their fate, cattle to be slaughtered. Do they decry their fate, caste blame upon others and chuck a tantrum demanding things are done or do they stand, grit their teeth and defy it all, warrior until the end."
Behemoth looked at me oddly, cocking her head as if surprised by my statement. "So it is," Getting up she headed for the door, "I do hope you're the latter kind of man Warden, because I can't abide weak people."
I chuckled. "Sooner or later we're all weak Behemoth, that is when we are tested the most, not to those around us, but to ourselves."
Behemoth frowned mulling over the thought before leaving the room.
"What a crew." I mumbled to myself, "A mentally unstable woman, an ex pirate, an couple of generic warriors and a leader destined to die in about three years time