personal6

10

February 15, 3000

Federated Suns

Crusis March

Cholis

Morten Estate

"Thank you for meeting with me," Mr. Frennis said, nodding before the seated Stephan and Sarah in the otherwise empty conference room. "I hope we can come to some beneficial agreements."

"Likewise," Sarah said neutrally. "Let's start with what you're offering."

The tall and very thin man spread his arms wide. "Many things. I'm essentially a multi-tasking financial broker with contacts in the Federated Suns, Capellan Confederation, and Free Worlds League. The Cross Borders Guild that I'm a part of and representing as a whole here, would like to spread our territory to include yours for all our many services, including currency exchange. I have it from a number of sources in the Periphery that the MP is quickly becoming the standard outside the Taurian Concordat. You have a banking system in place, correct?"

"We do," Sarah answered while Stephan mildly listened.

"But you do not have Comstar relays to facilitate transfers," Frennis pointed out. "We can assist you with this. Some of our dropships are mobile banks that make prescheduled rounds between systems. It allows for both electronic and physical currency to move through systems outside Comstar…which is preferrable to many of our clients who wish something more stable than the ad hoc trading in the black market. And if you'll forgive the intrusion, we have also noticed that you have been withdrawing heavy amounts of currency from a number of Federated Suns banks over the past few months, as well as buying gold and other precious metals. Our sources suggest you are planning an expansion of your own banking system throughout the Periphery where the Federated Suns system cannot reach. Are our sources correct?"

"How are you privy to private banking records?" Stephan interjected.

Frennis shrugged. "We're not, but when large shipments of currency are ordered to a spaceport it gets noticed, as does the dropship that takes them. Savvy investors watch such traffic and can glean certain things without having the banks actually reveal anything. We speculate you've been pulling out several billion in hard currency, and maybe another billion in gold from at least three systems."

"Considerably more than that," Sarah confirmed. "If we're to establish ourselves as a legitimate state, we can't be handcuffed to New Avalon accounts."

"Of course not. Is it also true that you're tying your MP to some sort of physical standard?"

"Gold, silver, and diamonds," Sarah stated boldly. "Enough to cover all the physical currency we've coined to date and will continue to coin in the future."

"Are you utilizing paper money?"

"No, we're not. We prefer something heavy and harder to steal in bulk."

Frennis smiled. "A psychological aspect that is not to be ignored, nor burned in the case of paper currency. As you begin to operate more and more with MPs and less with C-bills and Pounds, we can soak up those other currencies for you and recycle them elsewhere. I don't believe there's a sizeable bank on Cholis that can handle such things."

"There's not," Sarah conceded. "How large is your jumpship fleet?"

"We're a guild, so we don't have a rigid command structure like a military or corporate fleet, but we have upwards of 200 jumpships roaming the three Great Realms and pieces of the Periphery from the Magistry of Canopis to the Outworlds Alliance."

"But not the Draconis Combine or Lyran Commonwealth?" Stephan asked.

"No," Frennis said regretfully. "Neither of those states tolerates our presence, nor does Terra. We're too fringe for their tastes."

"Then I'm surprised the Davions tolerate you."

"They don't sanction us anymore than the other two Great Houses do, but they do look the other way and allow us to interact with some of their regional banking affiliates in their more backward territories. Same banking systems, mind you, but different branches that already deal with less savory clients."

"Are you saying your guild is unsavory?" Sarah asked.

"Not at all, but we pride ourselves on giving a bit of reliability to populations of humanity that live in unsavory areas, and we would highly prefer if our guild could be officially recognized by your fast growing realm."

"That may cause you some problems with your other clients," Stephan warned.

"No more than our ships traveling back and forth across the Federated Suns and Capellan borders. The Capellans especially are tricky to deal with, but if you find the right niche, and the right people, you can make a steady profit trading with them. And others can as well, with plausible deniability as it's our guild that's actually doing the trading and not those in political office that would suffer the consequences of such things."

"Aside from banking services…" Sarah prompted.

"We carry all manner of goods on our ships, but only high value items. We don't have bulk shipping capability for things like food and clothing…unless they're so badly needed it becomes cost effective to carry them. Some designer clothing is inherently, but we focus on small items of great value. Currency being one of them, precious metals in coin form or not. Technology, databases…we even have a small competing communications wing with Comstar, albeit on a much slower basis, but in the Periphery where Comstar has to carry messages by ship as we do, we offer an alternative to their monopoly. In the Inner Sphere, we offer a more clandestine transmission method when needed, as well as personnel transport for high valued customers."

"Slave trade?" Sarah inquired neutrally.

Frennis shook his head in the negative. "That's one cargo we do not carry, nor do we carry hostages or prisoners. Only willing passengers that pay well enough to warrant their weight. Mostly we carry high quality goods that aren't available outside the high population worlds, including mechs and mech parts. Seeing as how you're a supplier of such things, we'd be interested in setting up a standard contract for periodic pickups."

"I'm sure you would," Sarah said with a smile. "Do you know the kind of prices we're getting for them out here?"

"Much higher than you'd get near Terra, I can assure you. It's the people who can't garner the status to buy the factory-produced mechs that pay a hefty some to gain older ones. We have noticed the prices you are charging for the brand new ones, and while it is higher than standard out here, it's not unexpected given the appetite and lack of supply in the Periphery."

"Our waiting list is also a kilometer long. What would justify you bumping ahead on that list?"

"A long term contract and relationship to cover many economic aspects. We also offer clandestine diplomatic courier service using sealed containers that even we cannot breach. You and your intended recipient are given keys that you customize, and inserting a wrong key will destroy the box. We simply carry the boxes and drop them off when we make our rounds, or if the price is high enough, we take a direct route to speed up delivery."

"Do you see a lot of business in that regard?"

"Very much so, though most such transfers avoid the capitols. It's typically Dukes or CEOS that want to converse with each other, or with other groups that shall be left nameless. The type of things that they wouldn't want the Davions or others knowing about should Comstar take a peek at standard HPG communications. We can't match their speed in the Inner Sphere, but we can make sure the messages are not read by anyone, ourselves included."

"Comstar says the same thing," Stephan noted.

"Comstar uses electronic messages. Such things are always visible to one with the computer skills and access necessary to read them. A sealed box with an internal explosive powerful enough to destroy the contents but not anything else cannot be hacked. People have long ago traded privacy for speed, but sometimes privacy is more important. We have a good reputation amongst our clients, but most will not admit they are clients when you speak to them, so we have to prove ourselves to every new customer, as we will have to prove ourselves to you. Doubt is expected."

"Do you have ships running to the Taurians?"

"A few, but their economy is very strange and offers little opportunity for trade. They expect each of their worlds to be self-sufficient and only really offer mutual protection against attack. There is business occurring there, do not get me wrong, but nothing to warrant more than an occasional contact with our ships."

"Do you utilize your diplomatic service with them?"

"Any guild member can run messages without informing the others, so I can't personally answer that question, for my few ships have not traveled there."

"How would you get a message from me to them, then?"

"We'd pass the diplomatic boxes off from ship to ship and it would eventually get to one that does travel there."

"So your ships do cross paths with each other?" Sarah asked.

"We trade amongst each other in order to get a good array of products to offer our clients, otherwise each ship would only have cargos of a large amount of a few select items."

"How do you interact with your client planets? Just land a dropship and advertise your services?"

"Typically no, though that may be the case when visiting some very small worlds. Usually we establish a beachhead of sorts. A person or building where we have an emissary that takes orders and messages, then when one of our ships arrive they make the necessary contacts quietly. If you would do us the honor of officially sanctioning our services we would prefer to establish a permanent emporium on at least one of your worlds."

"Though it's not fully in effect on every world yet, we have a ban on all corpse products, food and otherwise. This would have to be respected," Sarah warned.

"We can adjust to whatever requirements you have."

"If you do want an official relationship with the Morten Protectorate, it will mean you cannot have any unofficial ones on the side."

"Set your terms and we will hold to them so long as they are not economically unreasonable."

"Then let's start with this," Sarah said, leaning forward slightly behind the elevated table as Frennis stood before them resplendent in a merchant's garb that included an over robe that imbued an immediate sense of wealth to anyone whose eyes crossed him. "Your commerce, as far as goods, will be restricted to our House only. Messages and currency exchange you're free to offer to our citizens, as well as personnel transport."

"What of full banking services?"

"Allowed. Do you have any other services to offer?"

"A catalog of contacts for making the right introductions to the right people in the right places for things we do not offer ourselves."

"Contact service you can offer our people. But your goods all go through me, and we'll buy what we want to add to the Morten Emporium," Sarah said, citing the name for the planetary stores they'd established on just about every world they'd claimed that brought in various goods not available locally. "I'll not have you undercutting us."

"We don't seek to hurt your profit margins, rather expand upon them by offering items you may not already have available, or perhaps not enough of said items available. And we'd much prefer to do business with a single bulk buyer than adhoc individual customers anyway."

Sarah turned to look at Stephan. "He's saying all the right things," she said noncommittally.

"Why now?" Stephan asked Frennis.

"We're a cautious lot. A few years ago you didn't have a single planet to your name, now you have more than a dozen. We weren't sure if you were some Davion operation or, frankly, warlords yourselves. Time was taken to analyze the situation, and once we were satisfied you were legitimate businessmen, we began making inquiries. We are glad that you finally responded and agreed to this meeting."

"We had to do some checking too," Stephan mimicked. "You wouldn't believe the number of solicitations we've been receiving."

"Your reputation is growing fast in certain circles, to be sure, and not just because of your possession of a mech factory."

"Well then," Sarah said, tapping a finger on the table. "Let's see your list of available goods…"

Kevin Morten had thought he was done with most of the hard work. He'd rebuilt the Morten Academy from the base curriculum they'd brought with them from Neubenn, added to it in a few ways, and got most of the various disciplines into active programs. He had also got branches of the Academy established on Foniss and Polvice, essentially pasting and copying what he had built in their Embassy Estate and adding some things not needed on Cholis, like police force training.

Those two schools, simply known as the Foniss Branch and Polvice Branch of the Morten Academy, were functioning well now. Land had been allocated for a much larger campus down the road, but current construction had been complete enough to begin several programs badly needed on both worlds. Programs that kept people there rather than having to transport them via jumpship to Cholis and further clog the Estate grounds with more buildings. They were quickly running out of room for everything they needed, and Stephan had agreed that there would come a time to move the Morten Academy main campus off Cholis.

Ideally it would be located on their capitol…but they hadn't chosen a system yet. Stephan had more and more survey ships going out to collect data on what was around them, but that sweet spot that he was looking for hadn't been found. There were many planets that couldbecome their capitol if they wanted to capture them, or a few that could be colonized to that end, but he wasn't satisfied with any of them.

So today Kevin Morten was standing near the Tarmac of the pirate base they'd captured as one of their dropships arrived, having come from Foniss. The location of this system was being kept secret, though for how long that would last he didn't know, but the planet had been named 'Forge' and aptly so, for it was to become the permanent home of the Morten Academy's elite programs, including their mech training operations.

The pirate base was, to put it simply, absolutely fabulous with regards to what they needed to start the Academy. It was all here, including the housing for the staff and students, and Kevin had assigned himself as Chancellor in order to do the yet more hard work of scaling it up into what they needed…but as far as starting points went, this was a damn luxurious one. However bad Captain Sheridan might have treated people, he had a good eye for architecture, and the small street of buildings that curved off to the left out of view behind Kevin definitely caught the eye of the first class of students as they got off the dropship.

They were a mix…some were those that otherwise would have been trained on Cholis and were simply shifting here to free up space…and the rest were outsiders who were paying House Morten to teach them how to be mechwarriors.

Some 13 of the 32 foreign students came from the Northwind Highlanders mercenary unit, while the others were a mix of different types of dreamers. Some hadn't made the cut for other mech schools, some were locals that didn't want to travel into the Inner Sphere due to the many rumors, and true stories, about the depravity there. And some came from other mercenary units, usually the kids of the mechwarriors or their techs who they didn't have the time or skills to train themselves.

The program was brand new, and he was surprised they had attracted this much attention already. Paul apparently knew how to market it, and while the fees weren't extravagant for what was going to be a 6 month introductionary program, they were, as of this moment, making some money.

Still, the cost of setting up here, with some 50 new simulators that came from Morten Arms Consortium, wasn't nothing. In fact, Sarah had got so tired trying to buy and get simulators shipped out from the Inner Sphere to fill all the mech bays on every planet they were taking, that she'd dipped into the warchest and created a division of M.A.C. to build simulators of their own. Doing that was not easy, nor was any of the other new projects assigned to M.A.C. or other startup companies, but the hard work on this one was over, for the Simulated Warfare Division was producing the simulators nonstop and storing the excess in warehouses to be used later.

Now was that later, so he'd been able to get 50 full scale mech simulators moved here a few weeks ago along with the final elements of the expedition team that was converting the pirate base into an Academy…as well as beginning construction on a base camp some 140 kilometers to the northeast that would end up training their own people in techniques that would never be available to foreigners.

That was one of his headache projects for later, but right now the public wing of the Morten Academy was open to basic mechwarrior training, and the crop of recruits from the Northwind Highlanders looked even younger than he'd expected. All were at least 14 years old, on file anyway, but they had definitely sent him a bunch of kids rather than young adults to train.

Which made sense. They were on a long term contract with the Capellan Confederation, and that probably didn't put them in too good of graces when it came to applying at Federated Suns mechwarrior schools. They could train their own people, of course, and most of the larger mercenary units did just that, but what they had wanted…and what Stephan had negotiated…was a program that could take raw recruits with no training or potential whatsoever, and give them the basic skills necessary as a foundation for whatever unit training they'd offer them later.

It was both an insult and a compliment at the same time, suggesting that House Morten could offer good, solid training, but wasn't really suited for the more advanced stuff…like, say, assaulting worlds. That was not going to be part of the public Morten Academy curriculum, but it seemed the Northwind Highlanders were more interested in their basic garrisoning skills. This 6 month program wouldn't include that, and was really just a testbed to see how the Highlanders felt about the results before they started to put together anything more advanced, but the fact that others were interested in this bare bones program had truly surprised him.

Apparently good education, even for the ever popular mechwarrior profession, was at a premium, and there just weren't that many mechwarriors schools available to handle all the interest from the kids that had wealthy enough parents to subsidize their dreams of glory.

The Morten Academy didn't charge its recruits anything…ever. So this was new ground for Kevin, as well as knowing that the students would leave here and go elsewhere rather than into service for House Morten. With that point in mind, he was going to be very conscious about what to teach and what not to teach, and the 24 older individuals coming down the ramp amongst the recruits were already seasoned mechwarriors here to start amping up their training.

The quality level of the Morten Mech Army was low at this point…even Grady conceded that. They'd been getting people up to a minimum level then shoving them into mechs in large numbers in order to hold worlds they were taking, then continuing their training in the field largely with the COF missions. But they needed better training, longer training, and that's something that had to be done over the course of years rather than months. And while Kevin was going to be overseeing the basics with the foreigners, he was going to be hammering these 24 mechwarriors with a wide range of simulated, and later real, mech missions designed to start weeding out the weak from the strong, and to start making the weak into the strong.

It was a work in progress, because never before had House Morten had mechwarriors with as much combat experience as they now had…though back in the day they had some 200 mechwarriors with an average experience level of over two decades. Now, they were taking almost everyone they could that wanted to become a mechwarrior. Soon that was going to have to change, not because of a lack of mechs to fill, but because they needed to require more training and higher skill levels before putting someone into an actual mech. And they needed a world where those hopefuls could go and spend several years training.

The Estate was not the place for that. But eventually Forge would be. He just had a lot of building to do here, with 'Ravine Haven' being the good foundation on which to start living and working out of as he started to build up this otherwise uninhabited moon that had a decent 0.8gs to it, which gave him a good hop in his step as he walked forward with his hands clasped behind his back as he watched the training staff start issuing orders to everyone to form lines and come to attention…with those who didn't understand what that meant being schooled on the spot. When they were finished and he had three rows before him, Kevin finally began to speak.

"Welcome to the first class of the Morten Combat Arts Battlemech School. Right now you're a mix of current mechwarriors and recruits, but you'll be living together and using the same simulators until we get additional facilities built. To the new recruits from outside the Morten Protectorate, I welcome you. My name is Kevin Morten. I am the Lord of Training for House Morten and will be serving as your Chancellor at this academy. You are the first class, so you are smaller than those that will come after you, but the training will be the same. It is based off the training that House Morten mechwarriors have received for generations, and has been well refined to suit any type of person. Whether you're enroute to becoming the next Solaris Champion or just want to be able to pilot a mech for bragging's sake, it doesn't matter. We train you at your own rate, slow learners and fast ones. While this initial course is set at 6 months for simplicity sake, our own recruits take as long as needed to gain the required skills, after which they become mechwarriors in our employ."

"You will not be in our employ, so we will train you as far as we can in 6 months. As long as you bring the work ethic, we'll get you the results. But make no mistake…this is not a social environment. You're not here to have fun or pick up dates. This is about learning skills that could mean the difference between life or death. If you want something safer, wait until we offer an accounting course. Battlemechs go where the danger is the deepest, and I will not tolerate students who do not take the training seriously. There are no distractions on this planet, for there are no other people on this planet besides those in this Academy and our own garrison force defending this moon should any raiders stop by to visit. If you cannot focus here, I doubt you will be able to do so elsewhere. I don't care how many mistakes you make. Mistakes are to be learned from. It's the people who refuse to learn that will be booted out of this program. Never quit learning, and we'll never quit on you. Sergeant?"

"Sir," a man said, stepping forward in a red/gray uniform that looked more like camouflage for the forest than ceremonial dress.

"Take the new recruits on a jog. I'll handle the current mechwarriors."

"Yes, sir," the Sergeant said, then began issuing calm orders that rose in volume when various individuals weren't listening too clearly. Soon the 32 kids ranging from 14 to 19 in age were in split into two lines that were running side by side with some 8 training staff swarming over them as grumbling began to break out about not being dressed for this and having to start right off the dropship after going through the 3gs of deceleration through the atmosphere.

What they didn't realize was, after a few miles of running through forest trails, they would be coming to a river that they'd have to cross in the nude. They'd have to ditch their civilian clothes on one side, putting them and everything else they had on them into canisters…which was also a good way to do a non-invasive strip search to see if they were carrying any contraband…then they'd have to swim across the river to the far side where they'd get a pair of sandals.

After that, they'd have to trek through the forest on a scavenger hunt, picking up additional pieces of clothing along the way, having to earn each of them, before they'd end up at a series of field tents. They wouldn't be spending the night in the luxurious dormitories, nor the next day as they would have to trek through even more forest to claim their final prize…a form-fitted neurohelmet custom built here in a workshop based on the scans taken back on Foniss where the recruits had gathered for this trip.

The helmets were already made, for the sizes had been transmitted as soon as the jumpship arrived in this system. Once they had them, and their academy uniforms, they could begin the training program. Those who balked at getting nude and crossing the river would be camping out on that side of it in tents until they found the courage to disrobe and brave the not so warm water. The trainers knew to be patient, and that this first step was going to be a huge one for some of them…particularly the few girls in this class…but some people took a while to get over that first step, and then the learning would begin. Others would just dive in, then get stuck on something else later.

Everyone learned at their own rate, and Kevin wanted a big psychological hurdle thrown at them up front. They'd know immediately this was not an academic school. Mechs fought outdoors, not indoors, and they were going to get acclimated to the outdoors right off the bat. And since this was the first class in this program, nobody had gone through it before to potential warn them what to expect. For this wasn't how the Mortens had handled new recruits in the past.

And it wouldn't be anywhere else in the Academy Branches. But on Forge, he'd decided, everything was going to be taken to the next level. Including the bare bones basics of learning how to walk and shoot straight in a mech, with this preface being to get them used to being outside the mech in case they ever need to eject and have to survive on foot. Some mechwarriors, he knew, would not eject and would die fighting in their machines. He didn't want that, so these new recruits were getting the 'survive without your mech' lesson first.

Especially when a lot of mechwarriors wore very little clothing in the cockpit anyway to deal with the heat. That needed to change, and would if Rannel had any say in it, creating better and better cooling vests, but Kevin needed to train these people to fight and survive with less than optimal equipment. And when you didn't have a cooling vest, or not a very good one, stripping down in the cockpit as much as you were comfortable with was one way to minimize the excess heat you had to endure.

So starting them off by running through the forest nude would make being naked in the cockpit seem like a luxury…which was also how they'd start off their simulator training. They'd have to earn sandals and other pieces of clothing by completing stages of their training, then choose how much to wear later on based on experience rather than social phobias.

It wouldn't be the lessons they were expecting to learn here, but necessary ones. This was basic training, and there were a lot of very basic things a lot of people overlooked or just skipped. Kevin had designed this program to hit as many of those as possible…and since they were on an uninhabited planet, they couldn't go storming out the front door in a quitting rage.

They'd either embrace the challenge or sit on the near side of the river living in tents for the next 6 months. And if it took 5 months for one or two individuals to finally summon up the courage to disrobe and swim a river, then he considered it time well spent for those people. For if they couldn't overcome such a small thing, they had no business being in the cockpit of a war machine that literally determined the fate of other people.

He knew he'd be accused of being a hard ass…but this was a military program, so the Highlanders couldn't really complain, could they? As for the spoiled brats that wanted to become mech warriors, this would be a good dose of reality, as well as a check to see how badly they wanted it.

Kevin let them get a head start, telling the veterans where they needed to go to get settled in, then he took a short cut to the river crossing, climbing a tower and using a handlebar to slide over the water on a suspended wire to a position on the other side with an identical tower leading the other way. It wasn't near enough to the recruits' crossing for a proper view, but another closer tower had been set up that he got to a few minutes before the column of sweat-soaked kids finally got to the shore and were allowed to rest, with most plopping down on the sand that Kevin had brought there to give them a nice wide clearing.

He climbed a ladder and got up into the observation tower that was poking just above the tree canopies, then used a pair of binoculars already left there to observe what happened. The Sergeant was explaining life to them, and when he gestured to the nearby canisters that would be taking their clothing he saw horrified expressions on many of them, which made him smile.

"You want to kill people in a mech, but you can't handle the horror of being seen naked. Welcome to reality, rookies."

The explaining went on for several minutes, then he saw two of the older boys walk over to the canisters and start getting undressed. They hit the river almost at the same time, with one of the staff grabbing one by an arm and making him wait until the other was halfway across. No point in letting them get within arms reach of one another and maybe making each other drown. Kevin had a rescue team hidden nearby in case anyone got swept down river or needed resuscitated. There wasn't much cause for concern, because the river wasn't swollen and it was rather calm, yet wide at this point. But when you were dealing with water there was always a chance of drowning, and he'd be remiss if he didn't take precautions.

But dealing with risk was part of being a mechwarrior, so if they couldn't handle the very real fear of maybe drowning, then that was one more reason they had no business behind any kind of weapon. Let alone one that could raze cities singlehandedly if the pilot felt like it.

Kevin saw the first boy cross and get his sandals. To his credit he didn't hesitate, slipping them on then heading off on a well-groomed path alone. It would be almost impossible to get lost, but Kevin had a few staff out monitoring the routes anyway. What was common sense for the trained was often inexplicable to the young, and he'd seen full grown adults not understand how to follow a path due to the fact they'd never been on dirt before other than in a city park.

After the second boy got going and the far side of the river was empty, a few more got brave enough to follow…then the cascade of peer pressure kicked in and there was a line of nude kids waiting to swim across one by one…though to be more accurate it was walk across, because the river at this point was barely a meter deep.

But after they made it across and got going, there was a small group actively arguing with the Sergeant…and all 5 of them were girls.

That was one less than Kevin had, so he did a quick look through the group on the far side…some of which were down on their hands and knees shaking from either the cold water or the stress of the situation…and he found the girl grabbing her sandals and charging off into the forest.

"Good for her," Kevin said to himself as the situation became clear when the 5 remaining girls walked to the edge of the clearing and began unpacking tents that they would have to set up if they were not going to cross.

That meant they were balking, and it would probably be at least a day or more before they changed their minds. The Sergeant left two other men behind to see to them, then ran down the shore to get to the zip line and came across, then ran off along another trail that would catch him up to the zigzagging course the recruits were having to travel to claim the bits and pieces of their academy gear.

He'd be at the encampment before the first of them arrived, but Kevin's first tally was in.

27 who chose to embrace the challenge, 5 who were balking.

He was not going to go talk to the 5. At least not for a few weeks. They needed to sit and stare at that river as they worked this through their own minds. If they didn't find the courage within themselves to do it after that, then he'd go do some coaching, but it was better for them to get over this themselves if at all possible.

The basic rule of Forge was this. If you never quit, it would never quit on you. But if you were to succeed, you would have to prove your worth via many tests. And eventually, House Morten's mechwarriors would be held to the same standard. Right now, though, they needed as many as they could get in the cockpits and he was letting Grady handle them after passing them through the Estate training program.

What Kevin was building here was for the future. But whether or not they had a future was up to Stephan, Vander, Grady, and the others. And while there were two Companies of mechs here to guard the moon, he hoped it would remain blissfully undiscovered by everyone else when the shooting started.

And with what he'd personally read in Captain Sheridan's log book, he didn't think this was going to go down any other way.