TSD: 3049-10-06 — Local: 02:37
Galatea, Galatea System — North Ridge Spur (Old Quarry Road / Grid NR-09)
The quarry road was older than most lies.
Cracked asphalt patched with gravel. Shallow ruts where heavy equipment had chewed through years ago. A cut of black stone on one side and a drop-off into a dead excavation pit on the other—wide enough to hide vehicles, narrow enough to make turning around a choice you regretted.
Cold air flowed down the ridge like water. It found seams in clothing, slipped under collars, and made breath visible in pale puffs.
Kel didn't bring the Zeus onto the road.
He brought it near the road—down in the shallow lip of the old pit, where broken rock and machinery scrap made a messy silhouette that sensors didn't love. The Zeus crouched in stillness, reactor low, heat disciplined, like a predator that understood patience.
Tessa was with him in the cockpit access space, not seated—standing behind the pilot cradle with a field diagnostic unit strapped to her forearm. Tonight she'd layered up: coveralls fully zipped, a thermal liner under them, and a dark knit cap shoved under her comm headset. Her hair was tucked away completely—no loose strands, no braid—because cold made hair a liability.
Her voice came through Kel's private channel, quiet and tight. "Hip temp is stable. But if you have to pivot hard in this rubble, we pay for it later."
Kel's reply was calm. "We won't pivot hard."
Mara was in Hess's command van up on the road, running the recovered node and transmitter as bait—hands steady, posture straight. She'd dressed for cold and fieldwork: fitted jacket, gloves, hair pinned into a tight coil that wouldn't snag on cables. Her voice on comms was crisp, controlled, and very careful not to sound like she was holding her breath.
"Elin is staged behind the service truck," Mara reported. "Security is in concealment. Sienna has overwatch."
Sienna's Valkyrie sat higher on the ridge, hull down behind rock, jump jets ready but cool. Her voice was clipped, focused—no teasing tonight. "Eyes on the approach. Two kilometers. No movement yet."
Hess came in, low and irritated. "You sure he'll show?"
Kel answered without heat. "He already did. This is just the part where he wants to be seen."
Mara murmured, "Node handshake ready."
Kel's voice stayed steady. "Send it."
A faint chirp over comms—data passing like a whisper.
Mara: "Confirmation sent. Phrase: 'Window closed.'"
They waited.
The quarry road held silence like it was paid to.
Then Sienna spoke again, quiet and precise. "Headlights. Single vehicle. No convoy. Coming in slow."
Kel didn't move. "Describe."
Sienna: "Executive transport. Same heat signature as before. One escort pickup behind it—lights off, running dark."
Kel's tone remained calm. "Let them come."
The vehicles rolled into the narrow stretch and stopped exactly where a man who understood sight lines would stop—within the van's field of view, within Sienna's overwatch, and just outside the easiest engagement angles.
The transport's door opened.
Mr. Coda stepped out.
Dark coat. Clean boots. No visible weapon. Hair neat. Face ordinary enough to be forgettable—except for his eyes, which looked like they belonged to someone who made decisions that ruined lives and slept fine afterward.
He didn't scan the area nervously.
He looked directly at the command van.
Like he expected Kel to be watching from somewhere inside the dark.
A second man stepped out behind him—bigger, wearing work clothes that were too clean and a vest that sat wrong at the shoulders like it was hiding armor underneath.
Coda raised one hand—an almost friendly gesture.
Mara's voice tightened. "He's close enough for a clean trace if he transmits."
Kel: "Hold."
Coda spoke toward the van's windshield, voice carried by the cold air. "Kellan Harrow."
Hess muttered, "How does he—"
Kel cut him off gently. "He's been reading us."
Coda continued, tone polite. "You've been expensive."
No anger in the words. No fear. Just accounting.
"Convoy losses. Hardware exposure. Witness protection filings." He smiled faintly. "You're learning quickly."
Kel keyed external speakers from the Zeus—kept the volume low, controlled. No theatrics.
"Say what you want," Kel said.
Coda's eyes flicked toward the pit for half a heartbeat.
He didn't see the Zeus.
But he saw something.
He recovered smoothly. "You received my message. Good. That means you understand the shape of the problem."
Kel didn't bite. "Talk."
Coda nodded as if approving the lack of emotion. "You are not the asset," he said. "You are the lock."
Kel's voice stayed calm. "Then where's the key."
Coda's smile widened by a millimeter. "In your possession."
Tessa's breathing tightened in Kel's headset.
Mara's voice went low. "Kel—"
Kel didn't move. "Be specific."
Coda held up a gloved hand, palm open. "Your father carried something he should not have carried. He died because he refused to surrender it."
Kel felt the old anger rise—felt it press against his ribs.
He didn't let it touch his voice.
"Be specific," Kel repeated.
Coda's eyes stayed on the van. "The neurohelmet. The legacy bag. The memory core."
Tessa went still behind Kel.
Mara's voice tightened. "The helmet bag—Kel—"
Kel's tone didn't change. "You think my father hid something inside his helmet."
Coda's smile was calm. "I don't think. I know."
Hess's voice cracked in, too loud. "What the hell is in it?"
Coda's gaze flicked toward the sound, then back—dismissive without being rude. "A cipher. A fragment. A gate."
He looked back toward the van. "Give it to me, Harrow, and your problems end. Your lien evaporates. Your arbitration becomes a formality. Your bay rent becomes someone else's concern."
Kel didn't answer immediately.
He let Coda hang in the cold for a moment, speaking to darkness like a man used to being obeyed.
Then Kel asked, calmly, "Who do you work for."
Coda's smile held. "For outcomes."
Kel: "Name."
Coda: "That's not how this works."
Kel's reply was quiet certainty. "Then this doesn't work."
A pause—Coda's first real pause.
Then he exhaled, almost amused. "You're disciplined," he said. "I see why the machine listens to you."
Kel didn't react.
Mara whispered, "Kel—he's transmitting."
Kel: "Trace."
Mara's fingers flew. Her voice snapped back sharp and professional. "Got it—direction locked. It's bouncing through the escort pickup. Pickup is the relay."
Kel's tone remained steady. "Mark it."
Sienna's voice came in at the same time, tight. "Pickup driver just shifted. Door cracked. They're prepping to move."
Kel waited one heartbeat longer—long enough for them to commit to the moment.
Then he said, calmly, "Now."
Hess's security moved first—two vehicles sliding into place with lights still off, blocking the executive transport's rear and forcing the relay pickup to choose: ram, reverse, or run the shoulder into rock.
The pickup tried to run.
Sienna's Valkyrie jumped—jets flaring once, clean and controlled—dropping from ridge to road behind the pickup like a hunting cat. It didn't fire. It didn't stomp.
It simply landed in the lane with thirty tons of "no."
The pickup slammed brakes and slewed sideways.
Coda didn't panic.
He took one step back toward his transport, coat moving like he'd planned the retreat.
Kel brought the Zeus up out of the pit.
Not charging. Not roaring.
Just rising into view like a truth the quarry couldn't hide.
The ground trembled when the Zeus's foot hit the road's edge.
Coda froze—finally—because even disciplined men respected eighty tons of metal when it appeared in the wrong place.
Kel's external speaker stayed low. "Hands visible."
Coda raised his hands slowly, still calm. "You can't afford a firefight here, Harrow. Not with that actuator."
Kel's voice was ice-calm. "Then don't make one."
The escort pickup's door burst open—its passenger tried to run with a small hard case.
Kel didn't fire. He didn't need to.
Sienna's Valkyrie pivoted and fired a short laser burst into the ground in front of the runner—rock flashed, fragments stung, and the runner hit the dirt hard and stopped moving forward.
Hess's men swarmed him, weapons up, clean takedown.
The hard case skidded across the road.
Mara's voice was sharp. "Kel—case is the relay storage. That's our proof."
Kel watched Coda.
Coda watched Kel.
For two seconds, the quarry belonged to stillness.
Then Coda spoke, very softly. "You've taken the wrong prize."
Kel didn't blink. "Maybe."
Coda's eyes flicked past the Zeus—toward the pit, the shadows, the unseen routes out.
He'd been planning exits the entire time.
Kel had planned them too.
Coda smiled again—faint. "I'll make this simple. You can take my men and my hardware. You can file your records. You can feel righteous."
He lowered his voice further. "But you're standing at the edge of something much larger than a merc's inheritance dispute."
Kel's tone didn't change. "Then stop talking and start naming."
Coda's smile faded.
And for the first time, his calm looked less like confidence and more like decision.
He moved fast—too fast for a man who was "just a contractor."
A small flash in his hand—smoke canister—thrown low.
White smoke erupted, dense and chemical-clean, flooding the lane.
Hess swore. "Gas—!"
Kel didn't cough; he was sealed. But his people weren't.
"Elin, masks," Kel snapped.
Elin's voice cut in instantly, already moving. "On it."
Sienna's sensors saw through smoke better than eyes. "He's running—west shoulder—behind the transport!"
Kel didn't chase blindly into smoke.
He did the disciplined thing instead: he held the lane, kept the Zeus as the wall, and forced Coda to choose a route.
"Block west shoulder!" Kel ordered.
Hess's men moved—fast—but smoke made humans slow.
By the time the haze thinned, Coda was gone.
The executive transport sat empty, doors open, cabin clean—too clean. No personal items. No paperwork. A shell.
But the relay case was real.
Hess's men dragged the captured runner upright—young, scared, and bleeding from scraped hands.
Mara had the hard case open in seconds, gloved fingers extracting a data stack and a compact burst transmitter.
Her voice was tight with focus. "Kel… this is it. This is the link."
Kel didn't celebrate.
He simply said, calm and absolute, "Copy it."
Mara nodded. "Already."
Sienna's voice came in, frustrated. "He slipped out before I could tag him."
Kel's reply was steady. "You did what you were supposed to."
A pause—then Sienna, quieter: "Copy."
Kel looked at the relay data and felt the story finally shift off the grave and onto the horizon.
Because the first thing Mara pulled from the relay stack wasn't about Kel's father.
It was a route table.
Not Route 7.
Not Galatea.
A list of Periphery corridor stops, coded in merchant shorthand—and a recurring reference tag that made Hess's jaw tighten when he recognized the format.
HPG BLACKOUT WINDOWS
"DISCIPLINED UNKNOWN FORCES" INCIDENT LOGS
COMSTAR TRAFFIC SHAPING FLAGS
Mara's voice lowered, controlled tension. "Kel… these aren't theft ops. This is intelligence movement."
Hess looked pale. "That's… interdiction-style routing."
Kel's voice stayed calm. "Which means someone is preparing the Inner Sphere to be blind in specific places."
He stared at the coded corridor list, then made the decision that kept the story moving forward.
"We're done chasing Coda's shadow on Galatea," Kel said. "We take this to the MRB. We leverage it into a better contract. We move where the corridor points."
Mara nodded once, relief and fear mixed together. "Toward the Periphery."
Kel: "Yes."
And somewhere out there—far beyond Galatea's dusty roads—rumors were turning into patterns.
Patterns turned into invasions.
Kel didn't know the name yet.
But the map in Mara's hands was pointing directly at the edge of history.
---
Unit Ledger — Iron Inheritance (Running C-Bill Log)
(Maintained by Mara Saito; updated at end of TSD 3049-10-06)
Starting liquid (Kel personal/hand-carry): 2,300 C-bills
Mission 1 — Vantrell Logistics (Convoy Escort / 72 hrs)
Gross contract value: +180,000
Advance paid at signing (included in gross): +45,000
Completion disbursement (net, after MRB handling below): +114,600
MRB / administrative impacts
MRB administration fee (3% of gross): −5,400
Arbitration reserve hold (restricted, not spendable yet): −15,000
Net cash actually received from contract: +159,600
Expenses paid from unit funds
Bay deposit shortfall (kept Zeus in-bay): −4,800
Zeus parts/consumables (actuator bleed, fittings, feed guide shim): −3,200
Medical expendables (clotting agents, wraps, shock meds): −6,500
Ammo restock (partial AC/5 + LRM): −24,000
Vehicle fuel/consumables (support + security misc.): −2,400
Bay rent (2 days): −5,000
Current balances
Current liquid on hand: 116,000 C-bills
Restricted/held (MRB reserve): 15,000 C-bills (not accessible)
Outstanding: lien/arbitration case pending (amount unknown until MRB review)