I took the tickets and letter and put them back in the envelope for the moment, turning and looking at the digital clock. It read at a quarter past eight, so I had time to get myself sorted with some food before I had to head over. I could also plan out what I wanted to do with the tickets, not that they were going to be leaving me ever. The letter had mentioned that unless I physically and with intent gave someone the tickets, they would always reappear on my person, would not be usable and would basically be ignored by all and sundry. Which I thanked baby Jesus for, cause I did not need folks picking these up and suddenly being able to fly, or shoot lasers from their eyes or some other absolutely mad things.
Two hours later found myself in a taxi cab, fed and with a to-go coffee in hand, with a hit of whiskey, cause hair of the dog and caffeine is my hangover fix, and still seems to work, even though I had to provide three separate IDs to the wait staff and manager of the cafe to get it. Seriously, being this small was a dream come true, but also immensely annoying if I was going to be treated like a child all the time.
I had gone over what I knew could be potentially coming; I had even gone over a bunch of other things that could potentially help me with what was to come, knowledge-wise, not that I planned to even hint at some of that stuff anywhere that had any chance of signal interception. Now, did I have all the knowledge of all the little hidden gems? Not even close. Did I have enough to utterly flip the board and through numerous flapping wings into the future as hurricanes of disruption, oh yes indeed. That was the thing, however, did I even want to? Did I want to throw a metric shit ton of info at people and leave it to Murphy whether it was made into something or backfired spectacularly? Honestly, still not sure, but what I do know is that I definitely wanted to use the few tickets I had, and I even had plans for how to split them all. That should hopefully help me out and give me the needed kickstart to things, but I still had to wait and see what exactly I was working with.
The cab took me an hour and forty minutes to get to the Lawyers' offices, which, when I walked in, matched the tone of voice used to speak to me. Old money, understated wealth, efficient displays that only showed off if you knew their value. Now I was always going to stand out, but in this case, it was like a sore thumb, between the melting snow that fell from my thick winterised Duster, to the way my boots tracked wet prints and squeaked on the marble floor. I was out of place and definitely looked too young and badly dressed to be here, as was evidenced by the hulking security guard who was beelining my way with a frown on their face.
"That is far enough, little miss. This is not a place for lost children. Please head back outside and down the street to the police precinct." He says not unkindly but definitely with a no-nonsense tone of voice. Sighing, I lifted my left hand with my index finger raised, and slowly slipped my right under my duster jacket, pulling out my comms unit before redialing the number I had saved for Gunther Schobert. He picked up on the third ring just as the security guard made it next to me, his voice pulling the man up short briefly as it came through the unit's speakers. "Schobert here, who is this?" he asks, clearly not having the number for my personal communicator saved or even remembered.
"This is Ms Wylde, Mr Schobert. I am currently in the lobby and would like to get down to business. Please be so kind as to inform your security to escort me up." I respond, my deadpan tone of voice and blank face unchanging with the situation surrounding me. The security guard had apparently gotten close enough to me for a better look, and the curse of Menace that I was under had kicked in as his hand firmly rested on the sidearm he was carrying.
"Ah, yes, I will have them escort you up. I am glad that you were so prompt to arrive," he responds, his tone still smarmy and dripping with the same old money arrogance I had heard earlier. I was hoping that this would be Schobert Junior and that his father or grandfather were of better moral fibre, but I was not holding my breath.
"Not to worry, Mr Schobert, one of them is close enough to me that he can hear you just fine. I should be with you shortly." I reply before cutting the call and turning to the Guard, "Well?" I ask with a raised eyebrow and slight tilt of my head. He is obviously torn between taking this whole thing at face value, escorting me up and waiting for orders. Thankfully, his earpiece chirps and not five seconds later, he nods and indicates for me to follow him. I fall in behind him, noticing that he remains tense and his hand has still not left his sidearm, but that bothers me little at the moment. Given the fact that three of my curses resulted in social impediments, I have to assume that ROB thought it would be a laugh for me to always be on the back foot in social situations.
I follow along and, after a brief and blessedly silent elevator trip, arrive at the door to the offices of Gunther Schobert. Nodding my thanks to the Security Guard, I wrap my knuckles once on the door and wait. Thankfully it does not take more than a few seconds before the man inside calls me in. Stepping into the office, I am immediately sure that this is one of the Junior Schoberts; the room is awash in gaudy displays of wealth and tasteless extravagance. Where the rest of the offices and the building itself were understated and clean, this is an assault on the eyes.
My curse thankfully keeps my face and body from showing my disdain and revulsion at the display, and as such, I walk over and settle myself into one of the ridiculously gaudy couches around a coffee table. Folding my hands in my lap after crossing my legs, I lean back and wait for the young man, and looking at him, he can't be more than five years my senior, to join me.
Gunther Schobert stands from whatever he was doing on his terminal, gathering files before looking up from the desk and seeing me for the first time, and is stuck like a deer in headlights. The deadpan look on my face and the relaxed posture I have taken, matched with what clearly looks like the clothes of a ruffian or merc, have immediately set him on edge, especially with the added bit of Menace from my curse. I can tell he is also double-talking as I look for all the world like a young girl and not the twenty-year-old my file probably says.
He shuffles over warily and takes the opposite couch, putting a stack of papers down on the coffee table between us before settling nervously in his seat. He nervously looks to me again before quickly glancing down at the stack of papers, "Ahem, yes, well, thank you for coming on such short notice, Ms Wylde." The throat clear and slightly higher pitch to his voice has changed the tone from Hoity toity holier than thou to Shit fuck get me out of the room, this is way beyond my wheelhouse.
"You specified noon, and as such I made myself available, now I would like to know what the man who apparently abandoned me and my mother had to say about me in his will so that I can go back about my day, there is work that I need to get back to Mr Schobert, and you claimed this would take some significant amount of time so let us be on with it," I reply, my voice still a stoic, unflappable deadpan.
"Yes, quite, I feel that we can probably get this done in short order then." He says, pushing half the stack of papers across the table to me and grabbing his own stack. "In summary, the late Lord Mortimer of has left you in bequeathment, a sum of $400,000,000 C-Bills, and the sole ownership and control over the Black Cats PMC." As he reads that out, he realises that this is not some small wave the poor off out the door after telling them that they have inherited their deadbeat father's debts, or become the scapegoat for something. Instead, he was now dealing with an individual of extensive wealth and means.
"The breakdown which you will find on pages fifty through seventy-five, will list out details for the individual assets, in summary, you will find that you now have total ownership and control of two Tramp-class jumpships," That causes his eyes to widen and his eyebrows to disappear, " Four dropships, a battalion of mechs, two mixed battalions of Combat vehicles, an ASF wing, and a Logistics battalion." By the end of his summary, Gunthar Schobert is looking decidedly green around the gills while also being white as a sheet.
I was not all that surprised. I was expecting something of around this size from the way the day had started, either this or a small team that was part of a Salvage and Prospecting company, with the addition of maybe a verigraphed set of notes leading to some juicy find that I did not already know about. What does surprise me, however, as I read through the detailed briefs on each item of the company, is the fact that I have a very decent amount of firepower, some very expensive and rare mechs and two dropships that most of the Inner Spheres' Great houses would love to requisition from me indefinitely. I am also not surprised at his reactions, as the listing of my assets has just placed me comfortably in the multibillionaire position without including the 400,000,000 C-bills in liquid capital.
"The caveat to receiving the inheritance, however, is that you must successfully run the Black Cats for a period of no less than five years. You are, however, being given a year before that to gather and train ground and ASF crews, as you currently do not have anywhere near enough to do more than support a barebones company of mechs and some supporting elements," he continues in a far more subservient tone with the flattery kicking in and the snark from our phone calls absent.
"Well, let's get the paperwork squared away, and then I can look into meeting the senior crews and seeing what's what. Give me a half hour to read through everything, and then I can sign and get out of your hair." I reply, flipping back to the start of the will and also the rest of the legal packet and beginning to read it all through. I would love to just find another law firm to handle this and ensure I am not getting legally shafted, but I am actually down to my last thousand Kroner right now and would massively prefer not to spend it all before that cool 400,000,000 C-bills clears.
Forty-five minutes later, I am escorted to the door by Gunthor Schobert, as well as his Father and Grandfather. Apparently, while I was reading things through, Mr Schobert, the youngest, had slipped out to contact them and let them know about the massive amount of stuff and things, and they had both inserted themselves immediately afterwards, I assume to ensure that I thought about using them in the future for legal needs. I shake hands with each of them, firm but not overbearing and wish them a pleasant rest of their day with promises that if I require any further legal aid, I will think of them first. I even would, as the two elder Schoberts seemed to be the right sorts, even if only in a professional sense.
Checking the time and noticing it was close to one, I hailed a cab and headed for the spaceport, and a known grill that served amazing steaks, and even had some craft alcohols on sale, including mead, my poison of choice. While the cab travelled, I put in a call from my communicator and organised a meeting with the senior members of my father's old crew. I asked them to bring through whichever captains were on the ground from the Drop and Jump ships, as well as the head of my Mektechs, the leader for the armed forces, and whichever of the mechjocks was in charge.
The drive was pleasant enough, and honestly, not having to hoof it from station platform to station platform, as well as stand out in the freezing cold, was a true godsend. The cab stopped outside of the restaurant that I had chosen, a small hole-in-the-wall pub that served spacers good food and drink for a fair price, which in Lyran space is hilarious as an idea, especially in the capital. I hit the bar first and grab myself a Stein of Mead, and then head for a large reserved booth table in the less busy area in the back.
I wanted to get through these meetings fast, but also in a setting that would let me get a read on my new employees. Everyone currently employed is older than me by a minimum of a decade. All of them have training and skills, and experience in the Merc game. While I can run a business just fine, and my previous life's memories let me know the bare bones of what is going to be happening, I still will have to do this successfully for five years, which, considering when I am, is not going to be all that difficult, hopefully.
I have managed to start on the finger food board that I ordered and polish a third of my drink by the time I see the group of people from the dossier packet I received walk in. I had not yet dug into my tickets, as I felt that greeting everyone and getting a feel for them first would be better for me. See, I want to see what they do and how they act when they think that they are about to be taken over by a rookie. Someone without training or skin in the game. See, I did not yet have any of the needed training, but I knew for a fact that it was possible to end up with it from the gacha. All I needed to do was get things on the road, and hopefully everything would go right.
They all approached the bar and gave the bartender the reservation name. As I watched, he nodded over my way, and as they turned to look, I just held up the stein with my drink in it. That seemed to signal to all of them to grab drinks as they spent another five minutes all getting their chosen poison before heading my way. I finished the sip I was taking before standing to greet them all.
"Good to meet you all, Samantha Wylde, apparently the new owner and proprietor of the Black Cats," I say, holding my hands out to the woman I had identified as the captain of the Lee-class dropship, Cats Meow, Captain Janine Taylor. She stood far taller than my diminutive 5ft, easily hitting 6'4" if not taller. Built lithe and trim, she cut a dashing figure in a pantsuit, with a close-cropped cut for her Violet hair. Yup, Violet, apparently, there were no uniform regs for that sort of thing in the company, as I noticed that there were a few more unnatural and outlandish colours among the group, as well as the distinct presence of both animal ears and a tail in one case.
The double take on their faces when they finally saw me and heard me, cause even when I try to be chipper and enthusiastic, my face and voice may as well be blank. That, and also for hardened Mercs, they had all been in the biz for at least a decade, if not two or three in some cases. They were all registering threats from me, even though I was just standing there with my hand out. I hate having social debuffs; they massively increase difficulties with this sort of crap.
"Janine Taylor, Captain of one of the Dropships, with me are my fellow Captains, Marcy Bals, Velma DeLouche and Lady Rachel Montgomery." She says, introducing three of the four women with her. One of whom, Lady Montgomery, just so happened to be a Black Cat Girl, in the full Anthro sense, while Velma Delouche had the ears and tail of what seemed to be a snow leopard. I step forward and shake hands with them all before turning to the ground pounder and tek side of my new company.
The man who makes the introductions is definitely older than the rest, probably in his late forties to early fifties in appearance. I know he is 49 from his dossier, but you would be hard-pressed to call that right, "James Bond, I lead the PBI contingent in the company. With me are Mark Templeton, our lead for the Mech Warriors that we have, as well as Maine Rogers, our lead head and finally the lovely Victoria Ferrous, the person that keeps all our shit from falling apart and making sure we can take the fight wherever we need to go." As he goes through the list, I shake hands and get everyone's measure. Honestly, Vikki Ferrous had me hard pausing and rereading things when I first saw the name, cause I sure as heck did not want to be in a Seras universe. Vikki is way too much of a gremlin chaos magnet to handle. Thankfully, in this case, I seemed to have lucked out and just landed with someone with the same name.
Once introductions were done, I waved for everyone to take a seat and flagged down a server to get another five finger-food platters. Then turned back to everyone as I noticed them all watching me carefully and with just a little bit on edge. I could feel the uncertainty that they were suddenly feeling. It was almost like my curses made me increasingly aware of how bad and on edge I made people just to make things more difficult. I sigh before taking a sip from my mead and snagging another chicken wing from the platter in front of me.
Done with all the stalling, I can look back at the group of people who still have yet to touch their drinks and who are still apparently weighing me and judging what exactly is going on here. "So I called you all here to discuss what exactly we would be doing going forward. Now I know that the two Captains of the Jumpships would probably like to be here, but I would honestly like to be off planet and away from here right quick, considering the amount of metal currently sitting around on those pads." I start causing them all to start slightly and start paying more attention to what I am saying and less to what I am doing.
"First stop is Solaris, then we move on to Galatea, and from there onto whatever world gives us a contract. The contract will preferably be a defensive garrison, and I will be putting in that contract that we will not be going on any raids, defensive actions on the planet only, with militia cross-training added in. I do not mind if our training is as large as we can get it to be. But everyone should be cross-trained from PBI to Tanker to Mech Warrior to artillery. I do not expect folks to be able to fly ASFs; that is a whole other ball game and is entirely up to the individuals you want to learn, speak to whoever ends up running that section of our company." I lay out, causing raised eyebrows from everyone. The dropship captains are frowning, Mark is as well, though I can see some respect there, and James and Maine both look like they expect to have a good time of things.
"You expect everyone to do this? I don't think the techs or my crews are going to be happy, let alone the ASF and Mech Pilots? Why would you make everyone cross-train? What's the point?" Asks Captain Janine.
"First up, yes. Everyone, myself included, will be doing at the very least boot with the PBI and one other team among us. If that means mechs and they have the capabilities, then on mechs they will train. If that means with the Mech Techs, then down in the grease pits. But I expect a minimum of infantry training for everyone. Mechs and Tankers will cross-train where applicable, and also in the use and calling of Artillery. ASF pilots will do the same, this is because if you know how to do all the jobs, even just basically, then you can work together better. I should not need to tell you that if every part of the whole knows what every other part is doing, and can trust them to do it right, we can do more." I reply, looking over all the people at the table. Victoria is now scowling. I can imagine having to train folks in what to do and not to do as a Tech is going to annoy the hell out of her. But I need folks to understand how to do as much as possible. It will also hammer home exactly what needs to happen and show me where all the holes in our training are.
"That is going to cost us time and money to start with, until we figure out what works and what doesn't," James says, stroking his chin as he leans back in his seat and takes the first sip of a drink among the crew.
"I have the liquid capital for us to run through for ten years. After that, we need to make money, but if we can get training garrisons and defensive garrisons to start with, I will take them and be happy. The Tramps will take jump jobs within 60 light-years or 120 light-years at maximum. Meaning that we will always have lift within four weeks," I notice the slight shift among the group as I list that number and pause for a moment, looking them over before continuing. I have theories, but they can be confirmed when off planet.
"We are probably going to be burning through a good, cool five to ten million in the first two to three years just in training costs. Not including normal maintenance and upkeep. So I expect that yes, everyone will participate. I would rather take on board a few veteran crews, preferably ex-military, that can form a training cadre centred on the old hands that have stayed on, with a whole bunch of fresh meat that we can train up to satisfaction. But I figure that we will probably get a mix of various levels of skill and teamwork that will need bad habits broken and a bunch worked on." At the mention of how much I was looking to spend on just the training, I got raised eyebrows. The fact that I am going to try and work on having a solid training cadre and only take garrison contracts to start with obviously has them all feeling slightly better disposed towards me. I am not going to be throwing them into a meat grinder to start and hope things work.
"You really plan to spend that much for so long just to get us to full strength? What about keeping some in reserve to ensure we can pay if something goes wrong?" Asks Lady Montgomery.
"I figure I can run almost ten years at that pace before I dip into the nest egg that I will be setting aside to continue building more funds for us, independent of the work the company itself does. I also did some of my own digging and have some things I want us to look into eventually, but that can be discussed later. For now, I need to know exactly what we need to get back to full strength and also to square us away and start looking into contracts." I reply, looking around the table as they all start to relax a little and mull over what I am asking for.
The conversation lasts for a few hours as I get to know my senior staff and their thoughts about the needs of the company. The Ship captains all want to get their hands on better rations, the military arm wants more people desperately and like the idea of training, though they are leery of cross-training. Vikki, don't call me Victoria, says we need more and better techs and also to look into a bunch more stock of ammo, armour, parts and such. They also really don't want to have to train jarheads on fixing stuff, and I should not expect to get them back in one piece if I send them to her. That gets me smiling on the inside with a promise that people will only be sent her way as needed.
Eventually, we wrap everything up and go our separate ways. I head back to the short-stay rental that I am in currently. I will be packing up and moving out to one of the Dropships tomorrow, but first, I have several tickets to tear and see what the Chaos Gacha has for me. When I get home, I take a seat on the cheap, lumpy couch and pull the envelope from my inner jacket pocket.
Taking the roll of tickets out, I am surprised to see that I have additional tickets present, one silver skills ticket, one gold familiar ticket, one platinum Item ticket, and finally one bronze trait ticket.
Deciding to just say screw it, I take all of the new tickets and tear them at the same time. The result is both over and underwhelming. The skill ticket makes me an adept markswoman; any ranged weapon is now a near-surgical tool in my hands. The trait makes me a natural-born hacker, giving me a natural idea of how to get into and around networks. Neither of these blows me away, and honestly, I expected more from the gacha.
The next two, however, do make up for it; the familiar ticket gives me a five-pack of KX Executor Droids from Star Wars. These guys are perfect as shock troops and guards for my ships; the numbers should also increase as I get more gacha rolls, if I am reading things right. The Item ticket, which I had the most hopes for being a platinum ticket, unfortunately rolled low, not that I will complain about having a highly advanced AutoDoc that just needs to be plugged into power to be able to do almost any form of medical procedure.
Both the item and the familiar are currently in a subspace waiting for me to summon them out and get them installed wherever I need. I will probably have to wait on that for a little while, maybe fake out finding them when I go and grab the Argo, yes, I am grabbing the super large drop ship. The thing is exceedingly useful as a mobile base and central repair point. And having the AutoDoc and KX on board when we find it should make things much easier to justify.
Next up, I have the starting tickets. That is eight pulls of choice with three having an advantage. Meaning I technically get eleven pulls and eight choices, so knowing what I want to get, I set four of them aside for skills and tear three of them for abilities. The results are impressive and also not.
[Tinker - Vehicles()]
|Elite Ability|
Allows you to build technological constructs or contraptions related to vehicles or methods of transportation, like giant cars with laser canons and cloaking technology, a ship that goes at the speed of sound and does not get affected by waves. If it involves vehicles, you can build it.
[Tinker - Construction]
|Rare Ability|
Allows you to build technological constructs or contraptions related to construction, such as super cement, reinforced steel structures, and incredibly efficient building schematics.
[Tinker - Games]
|Uncommon Ability|
Allows you to build technological constructs or contraptions related to games or entertainment programs. You are over 100 times more efficient than the average experienced full development team when it comes to making games and entertainment programs.
Three tinker abilities, which make sense; this is not a universe that runs on magic bullshit as much as it seems to creep into the lore on occasion. That said, having the knowledge and abilities of three separate tinker specialities downloaded into my brain knocks me back into the couch to just veg for a minute. It feels like I just had someone download the schematics and knowledge to create the schematics for three entirely divergent disciplines directly into my head. Think getting a complete PhD in every related field, all simultaneously experienced in an instant. Not pleasant in the least and definitely uncomfortable.
Eventually, I make it past the pain and disorientation, checking the time and noticing that it is just before seven in the evening local time. Stumbling up and off the couch, I make my way to the kitchen and grab a soda from my little fridge. I also put a bunch of coffee on, as I am going to need it, I feel, for the coming tickets. Cold soda drank, some pills from the small medicine cabinet taken and coffee in hand, I returned to the couch and the remaining five tickets. The next ticket I want to try and get something from is the traits section. I am assuming that it is the place that might give me things that make me inherently more capable, so, grabbing the ticket, I tear it while thinking about traits that should help out in this universe.
The result is that the ticket dissolves into nothing, and a simple purple ticket takes its place.
[Biodroid]
|Epic Trait|
Race Change - You are the seamless merging of technology and flesh, making you an incredibly effective Bio Android. Granting you increased physical abilities and increased energy reserves, as well as a natural healing factor. You have an increased affinity with Tinker abilities and machines, as well as being able to converse and interface with machines.
Well, that is one I will have to sleep on. As I am weighing the benefits against the costs, I pull the remaining tickets towards me. These are going to be used on skills, one straight gold skill pull, and three advantage pulls. I start with the straight pull as it is the one that is going to be the most direct and require the least thought. I tear the ticket and am once again kicked into the back of the couch by the influx of new knowledge. I know Kung Fu, well, more of a complete overview of martial arts in general. I am now an expert in the art of hand-to-hand fighting, and should learn any martial art related to using the body very rapidly. This makes the Biodroid race change seem better, as the enhanced strength will make up for my small stature.
I veg out for a moment before finally sitting up and looking at the final three tickets. Deciding that I may as well do them all at once, and figuring that it may well knock me the hell out, I run through my evening routine and get everything except a change of clothes for the next day packed up and put away in the bags that I travel with. Thankfully, none of the furniture is mine, and I have never been big on things. My life fits in two duffels and a footlocker. Sad, I know. Finally, I lie down in bed and tear the last three tickets, thinking of skills and hoping that I get good pulls. I am greeted by a mental table of six skills.
[Adept Management]
|Rare Skill|
You are skilled at management tasks, you know how to distribute tasks, handle them efficiently, handle employees or minions, multitask efficiently and deal with financial problems efficiently. You could easily run your own company or be an excellent financial advisor.
[King of All Trades]
|Epic Skill|
You have Adept-level expertise in all basic trades (Adept Blacksmithing, Medicine, Mechanics, Cooking, Interfacing) with competence comparable to an actual veteran of the trade and are greatly talented in those fields.
[Adept Blunt Weapon Mastery]
|Rare Skill|
You are very talented at wielding blunt weapons such as hammers and clubs. When you are holding any blunt weapon, you can exert almost supernatural levels of strength with it.
[Master Driving]
|Epic Skill|
You are a true master at driving any kind of vehicle; if it has steering, you can ride any vehicle or mount as if they were extensions of your body. Ranging from rollerblades to star-sized spacecraft.
[Expert Stealth]
|Elite Skill|
You are an expert in the way of stealth, you know how to move like a ghost, silently, blend into your surroundings and swim with the shadows. You could sneak into a military base, and no soul would know you were there. You could stalk an owl through a forest while wearing a high-visibility jacket. You are up there with the greatest assassins.
[Krav Maga]
|Uncommon Skill|
You are an apprentice of Krav Maga, a brutally efficient martial art made for military use. It emphasises instinctive movements, rapid strikes, and efficient takedowns to neutralise threats as quickly as possible. Krav Maga incorporates techniques from boxing, wrestling, judo, and street fighting. With sufficient mastery, you can enhance your strikes with your internal energy.
Now reading through that list, I immediately ignored management and the two martial arts. I was never going to be fighting with blunt weapons, and my Expert Hand-to-Hand combat already meant that I could learn Krav Maga to a higher level than the skill gave, in little time. That and the other three skills were just too enticing not to grab.
King of all trades was just straight up broken, granting me Adept status in five separate skills is just a no-brainer pick. I yoinked that right away. Same with the Master Driving, see the Gacha does not separate the different types of controlling vehicles, if it is controllable as a means of transport, it falls under this skill, and what is a Battlemech except a means of transport. Same with ASF, Dropships, Jumpships and basically everything else that I might need for travel in the future. Water, land, sky and space, this skill covers it all and makes me one of the best there is.
With the Martial arts removed from the choices, it also means that I default to Expert Stealth, and honestly, I like being sneaky; one of my favourite game mechanics is being the sneaky rogue. I loved the original Thief games, and the stealth archer was a meme build that never truly went away for a reason. So that was a non-starter. When my choices were locked in, I was thankful that I was already lying down and that I had planned to pass out right away, as that was exactly the result of my choice to do three tickets at once.
As the darkness claimed me, I could almost hear laughter on the edges of my consciousness. Apparently, ROB was getting a kick out of my pain or just my weird broken start. I never did manage to tell, as I lost consciousness soon after.
Chapter 2:
Waking the next morning was a pain in the arse, and I was now suffering the mother of all hangovers for the second morning in a row. Deciding that I would rather this whole situation go away, I stumbled into my little bathroom, dry swallowed a double dose of painkillers and then got under a scorching shower. Letting the drumming of the water pressure ease my body back to some semblance of normality. I remained there for a good forty-five minutes, as this was the last day I would remain in the little rental property.
Calling for a cab with enough trunk space for my luggage, I humped my stuff down to the building lobby, handed in my keys and paid the remainder of my bills. Paid up and just in time for my cab to arrive, I load up and head out. Now I have the breakdown of everything that was part of my inheritance, and honestly, I am still waiting to receive a call from one of the captains saying that the LCAF or LIC had come around about requisitioning my stuff, and while they had yet to do that, I was not waiting around to see if it would happen. See, those four Dropships I had inherited along with the Tramps had been loaded with a bunch of factory-new hardware, and all of it had been Royal-grade stuff. That is not mentioning that the four dropships were Lee variants.
Now, most folks don't know what that means, but to simplify it, think of the difference between a cargo ship and an Aircraft carrier. Most dropships nowadays are retrofitted cargo ships, never truly intended for military use. Low armour, few weapons and low capacity. The Lee's on the other hand, were purpose-built warmachines. Enough lift capacity for a battalion, enough weapons to be a fixed emplacement defensive structure, and the armour to match. These badboys could happily drop into hot zones with minimal accompaniment thanks to their extensive weapons loadouts, making approaching them a risky proposition for most ASF.
Now I know what my breakdown of units is, and I am heavy on treads, with a smaller equal number of Mechs and ASF. Most of my ground forces are actually Artillery and air defence forces. Though saying that, it would probably be more honest to say it is Light recon with one third Artillery, with another third and the remaining third split between medium and heavy attack forces. My Mechs are basically collector's items and would sell for small fortunes to anyone rich enough. Not that I would, I plan to take advantage of my new abilities to look over everything and see if we can't make life even better.
I remember a bunch of different ideas I had read about, and now with my new tinker abilities and the chance to get an up-close look at some of the tech, I might just be able to implement them. Ultra-light engines that take up less space, triple or quadruple grade heat sinks that fit a single slot, and weapons that are better range, lower heat, and hit harder. Hell, I even have access to a bunch of Chameleon and Null Sig systems that I can look over and see about doing better with, maybe streamlining and making maintenance easier.
Anyway, first I have to get off this planet and get us all settled somewhere, and honestly, I might even have the perfect Idea for that in the long run. I just need to get my crews trained up and then grab the Argo. Once I get that, I can move on to other things and plans, like maybe yoinking Camelot Command, or hell, maybe I just go find that plant on Kwangjong-ji or ni? Anyway, that plant and give it to Katrina once she becomes Archon, that should happily net me a nice little planet somewhere that I can happily build up. Or at least a landhold that should allow me to get started on a manufacturing centre for stuff I want. Like better Tanks, Better ASF and definitely better Jumpships. My brain immediately starts ticking away with ways I could make better Jumpships, and Jumpdrives, and just all around making FTL faster, safer and more affordable. So many Ideas, and I cannot work on any of them right this second, as I have to run a Merc company for five years successfully first, thankfully by the time I finish out the inheritance requirements, Katrina should be Archon, and I should be able to get myself setup with them on station as defenses for my Landhold or planet, whichever comes first.
Also, the AutoDoc should be able to save both Katrina and her Husband. Which should save me a bunch of time, honestly and even potentially help out with the future. We shall see. I do not know whether I wish to interfere there just yet.
My Musing is interrupted by us pulling into the enclosed drop zone for the Spaceport. I thank the driver, pay the fare and haul my stuff out of the cab. Heading inside, I go through customs and then head to the pickup zone for the dropships out on longstay pads. There I find James and Maine waiting with a Heavy Wheeled APC, think Stryker or LAV, and you get the idea, though heavier armour and slightly larger for more transport capacity.
I toss my stuff in the troop compartment and climb in, thanking the stars that these pickup and dropoff zones are inside climate-controlled areas and that this machine was built to ensure folks inside can survive cold climates. We are headed for one of the Combat vehicle Lees that contains what I think of as the Headquarters battalion. This is the battalion made up of our engineering and recovery vehicles, the Mobile HQ, MASH truck and artillery park. It also contains my VTOLs for recon purposes, which makes sense to me as you would want all the base-specific materials in one place for easy unloading once your landing zone is secured by the rest of the regiment. Also makes sense to stick me in with the HQ battalion, as they have no idea if I am Neurohelmet compatible or not yet.
On that note, I once again look towards the new toggle in my mind, this one is a one-and-done for race change to a Biodroid, and honestly, I am looking like I very well might toggle it while we burn off planet and towards the jumpships. I would prefer to get my compatibility shown now, and the increase in base physicality would be awesome. There is also the fact that it should, according to the ticket, make me even better at tinkering, which is a plus I cannot ignore.
From what I could tell, this would not really do more than make me a bio-modded cyborg, which, honestly, is something I would have worked towards doing anyway once I managed to unlock an augment tree of tinkering or skills. In fact, between my medical knowledge and mechanical knowledge, I could already see ways of making numerous prostheses, mixed with my knowledge of AR and FIVR systems, and I can even see how to make adaptive neural interface implants similar to Cyberpunk. Granted, there is no chance in hell of making them with the current industrial manufacturing abilities of the IS or even the Clans, mainly due to the total divergence in computer chip technology.
Figuring that I will flip it when I have the time during our twelve-hour primary burn from off planet and out to L2 before we continue out to the Nadir over the course of the next seven days to acclimatise myself to the changes and also get a look over everything. My thoughts are interrupted as we pull into one of the loading bays of the Old Tomcat, the Lee that holds the HQ battalion. Hopping out the back once we have come to a stop, I am met by two ship's crew who hop into the APC and grab my luggage before heading off to drop it wherever my new room is. Deciding that it is best to leave the crews to their work, I pass on to Maine and James that we are wheels up as soon as we can get clearance, and we should be heading straight to the Jump point.
Deciding to take a little time and make myself familiar with the ship, I walk around for a bit until the ten-minute warning is sounded, at which stage I grab the nearest crewman and have them point me towards my rooms. There, I get myself strapped into the G-Seat and prepare for the launch by hitting the race change toggle in my mind. I am instantly out like a light, no short, smooth transition, just conscious one second and the instant the toggle flicks over, my consciousness is gone.
I awake to a slight weight on my chest as the ship is currently under a full two G acceleration for the first half of our primary burn, but it seems manageable with my new capabilities. As I stand and move around my room, doing some basic callisthenics and stretches, my mind is reaching out beyond me and interfacing with the ship. I can feel through the connection where there are slight issues for maintenance, seal wear, loose connectors, and an over-tightened bolt that is likely to shear if we have to move to a flank speed burn for any length of time.
I am also connected to the sensor systems and communications, allowing me to get a real-time picture of the space around us, as well as hear everything that is currently going on within range of our comms. I am also suddenly aware that there are several devices attached to systems that should not be. Nothing overly malicious, but two of the three are data taps into the comms gear while the last is an innocuous device that would be entirely harmless by itself, until someone sent particular codes along that specific datatrunk, which would result in catastrophic engine failures at whatever inopportune time the individuals controlling it desired.
Sighing, I step out of my room and immediately head for the ship's workshop. I am going to need a few tools, and this means that I will probably need to head over to the other vessels and do similar checks. Thirty minutes later, find me half buried between several pipes, digging into a maintenance hatch, pulling the last device out of the ship. I get it out, and the panel is replaced just in time for the shipwide announcement that we are about to transition to zero-gee. Quickly securing all my borrowed tools and the three devices in pockets, I grab one of the handholds in the corridor and wait for the engine burn to cut out.
Zero-gee is fun, I find, especially with the new body, and I am soon zooming down the corridors and up to the Bridge. When I make it to the doors, the Security stationed there does a double-take, which is fair, I still look like someone's kid, before asking the captain what to do about me. That gets me on the bridge right quick, where I am greeted by a sight I was definitely not expecting.
Kenomimi Lots of them, and not just cats. I count practically the entire bridge crew being either full Anthros or Partial Animal. Felidae, all different types, all different spots and stripes. Looking over the bridge, I have to wonder how many are Canopian Intelligence, and how many my father must have had relations with. Or how he managed to get so many together.
My entrance draws momentary attention, but everyone seems professional enough to focus back on their work almost immediately afterwards. Lady Montgomery, however, waves me over to the Captain's station on the Bridge. "Ms Wylde, we should be starting the second phase burns out to the Nadir point in just over an hour. Is there anything else I can do for you?" She says, looking over from some readouts she had been examining.
"No, that is fine, just inform the other captains that once we have docked with the jumpships, I will need an all-hands meeting of the senior staff, as well as ten hours before jump. We have some additions that have been made aboard, and I wish to ensure the other ships are not similarly infected," I say, showing her the three devices that I had pulled out of the ship.
Her eyes narrow at the three objects that I show her, going wide at the last one, which would have caused the engine troubles. Obviously, she is knowledgeable about these types of devices. I wonder why. "You found these active and aboard the Old Tom? How and where? I was sure we had gotten everything when we helped retrieve these ships with your father." She responds. Picking up each device in turn and apparently comparing them to what she knows of similar devices that were on the ships before they got them.
"Yes, I just spent the last half hour or so collecting them, as for how, that is going to remain a trade secret till I can get all the Senior staff in a room for some very frank discussions," I reply before continuing. "You say that the ships were all booby trapped when you found them? Anything else I should know about before I start assuming spies among the crew?" I ask.
"No, no spies that I or the other captains could tell. And yes, the ships were part of a salvage recovery op that your Father had put together and found. He got extremely unlucky and was on the Monolith that exploded, destroying the two nearby Starlords and their attached Dropships as well. Had the entire find been recovered, the total amount of metal would be almost five times the amount present. But we were all too eager, all too excited. We all forgot the cardinal rule of Prospecting lostech finds: always check for traps." Her eyes have gone slightly haunted at the end, and I can see that she will need time.
"Very well. Thank you for telling me, and I will leave you to things unless you need me. Also, I made note of some maintenance items that you should have people check when they can, while I was looking around for these devices. I will forward it to you when I finally get back to my rooms and get settled. Good day to you, Captain and let's hope we have good luck." I say, giving her a nod before heading for the door. My ease in Zero-gee caused many of the bridge crew to wonder all the more who I was. I figure they had suspensions, and at least one of them was prepared to draw down if I was up to no good. Which was nice to see at least. A proactive, suspicious bridge crew might just save us.
Our Journey over the next seven days is quiet, though I do get a report on the third day that the other dropships and the jumpships had done two more sweeps and also found more suspicious devices hidden away. I thank everyone for the proactive approach and let them know that I appreciate it, signing off on a one-off bonus for initiative, giving all the members a grand extra at month's end.
Finally, we arrive at the Nadir point and dock with our jump ships, the Cats Meow and Old Tomcat dock with the Alley Cats, while the Tabby Cat and Nine Lives dock with the Cat box. I make my way onto the Jumpship and am escorted to a meeting room where I wait for the other senior members to join me. While I do, I use my newfound senses to give the ship a once-over just in case and am shocked at what I find. I will have to approach the Senior staff about it, but from what I can tell, they only know half the story. The ships are all clean of bugs and sabotage devices, which is good.
I am eventually joined by the senior staff, and the door is closed and locked. "Right, so first off, good work on taking the initiative, clearing out all the ships. I have signed off a thousand C-Bill bonus to all the crews and an additional thousand for those who found the devices." I start getting grins from everyone and also some nods.
"Just doing what we should, Ma'am. As far as we knew, we were clean, but apparently we did not do as good a job as we thought." Vikki responds, frowning at her noteputer. "I was sure we had also already checked all those locations at least twice. So I have no idea how these devices were missed." Her statement brings a frown to everyone else in the group, as my still stoic demeanour hides my frustration.
"Well, I can think of at least three groups that might have tapped us, and one that would have definitely set the sabotage devices. On the note of loyalties, however, which of you is MIM and which of you is LIC or TMI?" My question immediately silences the room, causing pin-drop silence to occur; everyone is looking at me like I am crazy, but I am too busy looking between the ship captains and Vikki.
"What are you talking about, Ma'am? There is no way anyone here is a spook." James says as he looks at the tight lips and blank faces that now circle the room.
"I honestly don't care if you are, you get to remain, you get to report, but fuck the company over and I will personally put a bullet between your eyes and glass the Capital of whatever nation state you belong to, is that understood?" I say, looking everyone in the eyes individually as I do. "The only time it is a problem is if you answer to ComStar, then I will straight out throw you from an airlock right now, and go pay Hilton Head and the First Circuit a visit. Fuck the toaster fuckers, and if Rho/Rho wants to play fuck fuck games, I am more than happy to show them why that is a bad idea." That last line causes more than a few eyes to twitch, which tells me who is Intelligence and who is not. Funnily enough, my Spooks are James, Maine and Janine. That is three of the four Dropships that have agents on board.
Now I just have to figure out who they work for. My declaration of what will happen to the spies if they fuck their company does, however, garner a reaction that I was not expecting from Captains Montgomery and Delouche. Both of them sit up straighter, and they both start looking over the others, their ears and noses twitching slightly. Interesting, apparently, they got enhanced senses to go along with the body mods. Good to know.
"Don't you think that is a little overboard, Ma'am? Surely ransoming them back if you catch them would be better for us?" Janine asks, looking at me with far more caution now, though she does hide it well.
"Captain Taylor, if I find out a spy has put the lives of those under me in danger, they are immediately declaring themselves and the nation they serve as enemies to me and mine. That is a very bad place to be, and when I made that statement, it was not a threat; it was a declaration of intent. I know exactly where I need to go to get more than enough ready-made nuclear ordnance to level every Capital City of every nation-state and still have enough to hit the other top five cities of each nation. Now, once we are done here, I expect the individuals with divided loyalties to come visit me in my cabin, and we can discuss exactly what is going to happen going forward." I reply, looking her dead in the eye and leaning into my curses hard for just that extra bit of unsettling terror generation. Her throat bobs slightly as she swallows, and I notice that Lady Montgomery and Captain DeLouche are looking at James and Maine.
"Now that my stance on spies and saboteurs is understood, the plan for the immediate future is to head for Solaris first, where we can recruit a bunch of green and recruit-level pilots there for the empty mechs we have. I also hope to pick up some simulators that I can use as a base for virtual training. While there, we shall also see about having some training bouts and checking everyone's capabilities. From there, we move to Galatea, where I hope to fill out the remaining slots. Which, as it stands, is 28 more mech pilots, 38 more ASF pilots, 63 more crews for combat vehicles and 34 artillery crews, as well as 8 VTOL crews. Then we need to fill out the PBI and Marines, meaning that we need at least another 450 troops for those roles. Preferably, the PBI will be those willing to undergo training as SpecOps, Jump Troops and specialists; they should also all be cross-trained to serve in either a marine or a groundpounder role. Which means that we are going to need to find some Taurian Space Marines that still want the job, that have gone merc, as well as some Blackhearts SOG types." I lay out and they all sit up straighter as I lay out our numbers.
They all had them already, but hearing it laid out like this makes things hit home harder, as there is a plan and a direction. "I also want at minimum three techs per vehicle, though I know that is impossible, so Vikki, your job is to seduce, bribe, and Shanghai any and all competent techs into your service while doing the same with everyone you find that knows what they are doing. I do not care if they are a Mech Warrior, ASF pilot or PBI. Unless we are in the middle of combat, they are doing work with you." I say, pointing to her as I say that. She looks at me slightly like a deer caught in head-lights, apparently she was assuming this work would be done for her.
"Now with that out of the way, the first contract we should be looking for is definitely going to be garrison work. And I honestly do not care where it comes from, so long as it is not the Mad fuckers or the Weebs. So if you have contacts on Solaris or Galatea, then make sure you organise things with them when we arrive. Now, there are some things you all did not mention in the paperwork for these Jumpships, and I bet I figured out some things that even you lot were unaware of. So impress me," I say, sitting back in my seat and smirking, which goes further into unsettling them all than I thought it would. Apparently, my smirk on the otherwise deadpan face is freaky, who knew?
John Morgenson sits forward and observes me as he starts, "Well, Ma'am, we did not put it on record because several of our members and even your father, before he passed, figured it would be a good idea to keep the knowledge that both Jumpships are equipped with LF batteries a secret. I don't know how you figured it out, but I know for a fact that after that last deep search for bugs and such that there is not a single other place on this vessel that we have yet to check, so surprise me, tell me there is something else on my ship." His tone is somewhat challenging at the end, but I nod along.
"I figured the battery, but the secret has to do with how I found the bugs in the first place. A nifty bit of tech that I have lets me connect to any bit of tech with a wireless signal and interface to figure stuff out about it. Think diagnostic tool, but near universal and with access codes that get me in basically anywhere. The one thing you all missed, and honestly, I am unsurprised you did, is the fact that these two ships were part of the SLIC, and as such, they needed ways to send reports home without going into occupied systems." I respond, steepling my hands before my face and staring him in the eye.
I watch as my words sink in and all around the table, breaths hiss in, and eyes widen. Morgensons' mouth was just opening to retort and snap shut with a clicking sound as everyone in the room held their breath. "Yes, it is what you are thinking, no, you cannot tell a soul anywhere in any way, or we all die and these ships vanish into a hole owned by the toaster Fuckers." I say, looking them over. "I mean that emphatically, there is not a single item or message you can send that they cannot read and understand and intercept. Which being embedded spies they do to every one of your communications, hence the devices to cause engine failures and misjumps, I am assuming." I say, looking to both Jumpship captains. They both nod, though you can see that they are looking at me differently now.
"Not saying you are lying or wrong, Ma'am, but we have been over every square inch of the vessels and have not found even the smallest hint of what you are talking about." Lucy, Rembarch, captain of the Alley Cats, says quietly.
"And you won't unless I show you exactly where the access is and then bypass SLIC security access, which I do not plan to do. The only reason to do so would be to allow our ships to stay in contact and to intercept planetary broadcasts, which we do not have the means to crack, and could not transmit to without ComStar finding out and getting their knickers in a twist. So even though you have that knowledge, you can forget about it for the moment," I reply, causing them all to sit straighter as they all know what messing with SLIC security could potentially result in.
"Now, onto other matters, I know that all our ships have crew. What are their ratings, and where do we stand on supplies and maintenance cycles?" I ask, pulling the meeting back on track and getting into the meat of running a Mercenary outfit.
Three days later, in the middle of recharging for our second jump, as we are keeping the LF batteries on the downlow. I get a chime from my office door. Hitting the opener, I watch it open and see who it is. There in the doorway are my three spooks, all looking at each other nervously and all apparently coming to the same conclusion I have. I wave them in, and they all move to float before my desk.
"So you three decided to step forward sooner rather than later. Good, Janine, tell MIM that if they only want information, I am more than happy to have you remain here and feed them information about the IS. Just don't fuck the pooch, yeah?" I look towards her, and she cringes as I get that one right.
"Understood, Ma'am." She replies, remaining where she is as I move to address the other two.
"James, next time, don't use the name of the super spy from classic novels and films. That is dumber than fuck and screams overconfident newbie, which is not you. Judging from your experience and the way your eyes lit up when I said Marines, you are definitely TMI, and I am honestly not surprised. I guess this find came out of the periphery somewhere between the two nations, maybe further rimward of the budding Aurigan federation?" I say, looking at the large man. His sheepish grin and nod tell me all I need to know.
"Yes, Ma'am, and it was not my choice, Ma'am. Some new hotshot took over and decided we older folks needed to go on long-term missions to 'retire gracefully'. I figure, seeing as I am busted, I can stop that all and focus on building up that Marine Corps you were talking about." He replies, rubbing the back of his neck, the rolled sleeves for the first time showing off his Space Marine tattoo.
"Will do, look into the training of the old SAS and Delta Force, and incorporate that into whatever you each teach the troops when you get them. Also, stay behind when we are done, we need to go over troop loadouts. Now you, Maine Rogers, are the one I am having the hardest time pinning down." I say, turning to my senior Tank pilot.
As he goes to start speaking, I hold up a hand, "No, don't worry about it, I think I figured it out in the end." I say, looking directly into his eyes and watching all of his micro expressions, being a Biodroid is such bullshit cheating. "At first, I pegged you as LIC, attached to the company because he had a daughter floating around in your nation, but I threw that one out the window pretty quickly when the LCAF did not try to happily claim my inheritance. Then I figured you must be MIIO or DMI from the Suns, but honestly, they did not even know I existed and would have had no eyes on my father unless he travelled up that way and left other bastards in his wake, which, according to his will, he did not." I say laying out my reasoning so far, I notice slight twitches as I say he can't be LIC and more when I eliminate the Suns, but nothing that would tell me who he works for.
"I then immediately removed Liao and Kurita, as you have yet to try and kill me for the insults I laid at each's feet by calling the Mad Fuckers and Snakes. That leaves only other places you could be from, and considering you did not immediately try to kill me for revealing the existence of Rho/Rho and mobile HPGs, you're not the Toaster Fuckers and their dumb Holyshroud. Which means, for once, SAFE managed to have someone in the right place to feed them information. And would have done an amazing job of everything if I were not a paranoid bitch and already expecting at least four times your number of spooks." I finish, watching as he sags as my logic comes to the final conclusion.
"Was it seriously that easy to figure us all out? How could you possibly have beaten trained intelligence agents without training?" He asks, looking at me and trying to figure out where he went wrong.
"That one is simple, I knew as soon as I saw actual Cat Girls in the company that MIM was here. That was a no-brainer and basically was always going to be the case, especially when this much metal is being given away to a non-national female descendant." I say, nodding towards Janine.
"TMI is going to be here as they want to ensure that the old rivalry they have with the Magistracy is not going to go hot with the injection of a regiment of metal. And honestly, he was a dead giveaway as soon as I heard his name, like I said." Looking over to a grinning James.
"Finally, for you, I just hacked your devices last night after you went to bed and found your orders. As well as your check-in message. And then ran that through some serious decryption programs to ensure you were not a double or triple agent. The result was a competent SAFE agent getting caught by better tech. Simple as that." finish looking at him now and watching the incredulity climb his face as he realises that he had already been made, it was just me getting proof before he tried to confirm who he worked for.
"So that entire logic chain was a faint? You already knew and just wanted to throw me off?" he asks, clearly a little upset but maintaining professionalism.
"Nope, the logic chain was first, the evidence was after to confirm and slap you in the face with if you tried to lie," I quipped back while handing him some of the documents from my desk. He takes them, and his face pales as he reads, realising that I really did get into his stuff without letting him know until this moment.
"Now, as you're all here, your job going forward is to stop any and all other spies, that means no more from your homes and definitely no more from anyone else," I say, looking them over and causing them to stiffen as if to attention. "I expect you three to work together to ensure that once we are done hiring everyone on and are moving to our garrison contract that there is not a single other person in the company with divided loyalties. If they are here already, let me know, but if they end up on our hiring list, then I expect you to nix them immediately." I say as I catch each of their eyes.
They all float straighter and give me nods of assent. "Understood, Ma'am. What should we keep out of reports aside from the comms equipment?" James asks, clearly the one who understands that I am very serious about my threat of nuking the Capitals if they fuck up.
"When we talk about any classified information going forward, I will inform you. As to any information that might assist folks that we may find or stumble across, or even anything else that happens to come out of our little enterprise here, I will personally ensure that copies are forwarded if they will actively assist your nations without destroying the balance of power throughout the IS. On that note, do send a message home whenever you next get the chance, listing any and all comms through the toaster fuckers as entirely compromised and being read by their enemies and allies. You are honestly better off picking a few central post planets and moving information via jump ships if you can afford to, hell, grab a bunch of old school Aquillas or Conestogas and daisy chain them through multiple systems that they can reach to spread the news. Or make it priority cargo. Anything is honestly better than relying on them." I say, looking the spooks over. They are all giving me sceptical eyebrow raises and looks of disbelief. I just have to sigh and shake my head.
"Look, just send home that they need to look into what the post service of the original Roman Empire, not the Holy Roman Empire, was actually for and just as a hint, they were the intelligence service of the time. Your bosses will understand and draw the parallels. Honestly, it is like everyone stopped looking at history before World War 2." I finish, which gets some nods, but otherwise they all stay silent.
"Right, so Janine, Maine, you're both dismissed, head back to doing what you need to keep your sections running. James, you and I have loadouts and gear to talk." I finish dismissing the other two and waving James over to a seat by a drinks cabinet.