"Then why tell me now?" he asked in a rising voice.
"Because now we aren't on the Bristol," she shouted in return. Rose locked her with an intense gaze, trying to look beyond the tears and his own frustration. McCloud held his gaze with equal intensity, and neither one moved as they regarded one another. Rose wasn't sure how long the moment lasted, but with sudden clarity he knew the reason she hadn't called on him. The understanding of that single action spread like a cool wind through him as he realized things about himself and McCloud that he had never been able to comprehend before. He wasn't sure he could put it into words, but in his heart he knew and that was all that mattered.
He took her hand and smiled. "I understand. Your ship, your command, your decision."
McCloud closed her eyes, flushing tears from the corners. "When I'm caught up financially, I'll pay back the money the Black Thorns have invested in the Bristol. You have to agree to that."
Rose smiled and nodded. "Done." It was the easiest thing he'd ever agreed to. "Anything else?"
"Yes," she smiled as the tension in the room evaporated, "you can help me move in. Then we'll really christen our new home."
11
Mercenary Garrison District
Wolcott, Draconis Combine
28 February 3057
Rose called for a car early the next morning and rode to the liaison office in high spirits. If Jamshid, sandwiched between Rose and McCloud in the back seat, noticed, he didn't mention it to his commander. McCloud also chose to keep quiet and spent most of the ride staring out the side window.
The car dropped them in front of the building, where the trio paused briefly to straighten their field uniforms before ascending the broad marble stairs. Despite the early hour, the plaza was crowded with warriors in an array of clashing uniforms. Most were busily pursuing personal interests, but several lounged along the fringes of the plaza, eyeing everyone with equal attention. Rose was inclined to think that they were security, but it was also just as likely they were exactly what they seemed: warriors looking for a home.
Upon entering the lobby, Rose thought it looked more like something out of a corporate headquarters than a military installation. There was even an information booth facing the main doors. Rose announced himself and his destination to a polite woman behind the counter, and waited patiently for her to clear him through. He was surprised when she indicated a set of stairs just visible through a narrow archway to the right. He'd expected tighter security.
McCloud shrugged and Jamshid offered his usual smile, so Rose led the way to the stairs. Three flights later, they came to a single steel door set opposite the top step of the landing. Jamshid opened the door for Rose and McCloud, then followed them in. In the hallway beyond stood a small woman clutching a bundle of papers to her chest.
"Captain Rose," she said with a shy smile, "I am Chu-i Reiza Myoto." She bowed as low as the papers would allow, then nervously stuck out her right hand. The papers threatened to spill all over the floor, but she managed to prevent that by quickly retracting the offered hand. She smiled and shifted the papers to one shoulder, again offering her hand. Rose took it quickly and shook once before letting go. Her hand was warm and slightly sweaty, but the strength of the grip surprised him.
"Chu-i Myoto, may I present Captain McCloud of the DropShip Bristol and MechWarrior Jamshid Al-Kalibi." Myoto bowed to each in turn, then indicated the expanse of hallway beyond with her right hand before the papers once more threatened to spill.
"If you will please follow me, I will escort you to a meeting with Tai-sa Zimmer and his staff." Rose hitched his stride in midstep at the mention of the name Zimmer, but continued on. McCloud looked at him in surprise, but Rose shook the unasked question away. "I have your briefing papers here," continued Myoto. "The binding was not ready, and I thought them too important to wait."
"Thank you, Chu-i. Jamshid, since they are meant for us, would you please help her with them?" Jamshid rushed to take the lion's share of the papers, leaving Myoto only the top dozen sheets. Again she bowed, and Jamshid returned the gesture by reflex.
"Zimmer ..." said Rose. "That wouldn't be Adrian Zimmer, would it?"
"Why, yes," said Myoto, surprised that Rose knew the tai-sa. "He is the head of the mercenary liaison department of the DCMS on Wolcott. He is ultimately the commander of all the mercenaries here." Rose ground his teeth in frustration. "Working with Zimmer," he said almost to himself, "and I swore never again."
"Captain?" asked Myoto.
"Nothing, Chu-i. The tai-sa and I are old acquaintances." Rose worked on loosening the cramp in his jaw as Myoto indicated an open door on the left side of the hallway. The door opened into a room already occupied by two men and a woman.
"Rosie!" The largest of the three came bounding across the room, right hand extended. As Rose reached for it, the man pulled him against his expansive chest in a sudden bear hug. "Rosie, I knew you'd come back to me."
Rose endured the greeting in silence and waited until Zimmer let him loose before responding. "Zimmer," he said coolly, "it's been a long time. How's the eye?"
Zimmer touched the side of his face. "Gods! It's terrible. The damn thing is never in proper focus, and I get some massive headaches. And until the medics can get that problem solved, they can't even cover up the artificial cheekbone with synthetic skin."
"Good!"
"Pardon," said Zimmer with a suddenly intense stare.
"I see you've brought food," said Rose with half-smile. "Will this be a long meeting?"
"No," returned Zimmer, his eyes suddenly narrowed. "Just my little way of welcoming you back. And who do we have here?"
"Tai-sa Zimmer, may I present Captain McCloud, commander of the DropShip Bristol." McCloud stuck out her hand, which Zimmer took and raised to his lips. Just as he bent to kiss it, McCloud pulled her hand away.
"Pleased to meet you, Tai-sa Zimmer."
"Oh, now, that won't do. My friends call me Pauly-o."
"What friends?" asked Rose with a smile.
Zimmer turned on Rose and glared. "Still holding a grudge, Rose? I thought time healed all wounds."
"Wounds, yes," agreed Rose. "Deaths, no. I'm afraid time can never erase those."
"We all lost friends on Tukayyid, Rosie," countered Zimmer. "You've got no right to think you're the only one." The big man took a step toward Rose and seemed ready to fight. Rose kept silent, but McCloud saw him curl his feet inward, a sure sign he too was ready to fight. Zimmer suddenly smiled and relaxed. "You know, Rosie, I've never understood why you don't like me."
"Got an hour?" asked Rose.
Zimmer smiled at the comment, but he was obviously back in control. No matter that this man enjoyed the sleep of the innocent, Rose blamed Zimmer and those like him for the destruction of his command on Tukayyid. Tucked away safely in the rear they sat back and handed down orders while Rose and his men fought and died following those orders. Zimmer was one of a handful of superior officers Rose had prayed never to see again.
A voice that dripped honey interrupted Rose's thoughts. "Perhaps you could introduce us, Tai-sa," said the unnamed woman as she crossed the room. Her voice didn't much affect Rose, but it stopped Zimmer cold.
Watching her, Rose wondered if he'd ever seen such a beautiful woman. Her long black hair was silky and shimmered in the light of the meeting room. She had classic oriental features, with a slightly rounded face and almond-shaped eyes that seemed to promise answers to unasked questions. Her regulation DCMS uniform fit too perfectly not to have received the attention of an excellent tailor.
"Rosie, this is Tai-i Siriwan Toshirov. She is my chief of staff. The man behind her is Tai-i Joseph Patti. He handles all mission assignments and contract negotiations for company contracts and below.
"That's what you're running now, right, Rosie? A company?"
Rose nodded cooly and kept his attention on Zimmer. Toshirov was clearly a distraction, and Rose was determined not to let her presence cloud his thinking.
He silently thanked God he'd undergone his revelation with McCloud last night. It gave him a certain amount of armor against distractions like Toshirov.
"I suggest we get down to business," said Zimmer. He moved toward the table, grabbing a pastry on the way to the head chair. Leaning back in the chair, he downed the pastry in two huge bites, dusting powdered sugar off his fingers as he watched the Black Thorns take their seats.
"As I said, Patti usually takes charge of meetings like this, but since you and I go back so far, Rosie, I thought I'd handle this one personally." Zimmer smiled, and Rose felt a shiver run up his spine. Zimmer was again in control of his destiny. "We're old buddies, Rosie, so we can cut straight to the good stuff. Here's the deal.
"The Combine runs this planet with a lenient hand. They don't really like mercenaries—and that, of course, means you—but they've realized they're a necessary evil." Zimmer paused to make sure Rose heard the word "evil". "That's where I come in. I work for Kurita and you work for me." Rose started to object, but Zimmer waved him away.
"I know, I know. That's not the way it works on paper, but that's how it's done in practice. We've got a unique situation here, one that calls for the ability to handle problems creatively as they arise."
Rose knew just what Zimmer meant. When they'd both been members of the Com Guards, Zimmer had been involved in more operations than any two people. He always had something going on, and always managed to keep a step ahead of his enemies. Creative thinking and complete lack of conscience were Zimmer's specialties.
"What you've got now," continued Zimmer, "is a standard garrison duty contract. You and I both know the pay for that kind of thing will force you to sell one of your precious OmniMechs before the contract is over just to keep the other three running." Zimmer leaned forward onto the table.
"Unless you want to sell one now. I could put you in touch with somebody from Procurement. They'd make you a nice offer, even on the Dasher."
Rose ground his teeth and shook his head. He didn't trust his voice to answer.
"Oh, well, no matter. The fact is, unless you take a contract with us, you'll be forced to sell anyway. Either that or the company store."
The "company store" was a term feared and hated by every mercenary in the Inner Sphere and a potential problem for the Black Thorns. Most employers were willing to let mercenaries purchase goods and supplies on credit backed by their contract, but a merc unit could quickly run up more expenses than they could cover with their contract. A major battle, for example, could put a unit in debt to the employer for years just to cover the cost of repairing 'Mechs damaged in a single battle.
The problem could be compounded by an unscrupulous employer. Since a mercenary unit's assignments came from their employer, they could be sent light years away from the parts they needed. The employer could eventually supply the mercenary, but at a greatly inflated cost. Purchasing equipment, supplies, and technical expertise from the employer all fell under the title "company store," a practice which often turned struggling mercenary units into virtual house units of their employer. Once that happened, the merc unit might retain its own name, but it was at the beck and call of the employer just like any other regular army unit.
"So all that brings us to Wolcott," said Zimmer, "and the unique opportunities which abound here. Patti, what is your most lucrative contract at the moment?"
"Operation White Knight, sir. It's a rescue mission on the fringe of our operation area. It's been open for three months with no takers."
"And why is that, Patti?" asked Zimmer, never taking his eyes off Rose.
"The target is protected by an entire galaxy of Smoke Jaguars, sir. It's suicide unless the Clanners lower their defenses."
"Thank you for that astute comment, Patti. What does it pay?" asked Zimmer.
"Pay grade Alpha-prime, sir," gulped Patti in reply.
"Which means, Rosie, you get to name your price. Name the price and I get to accept or reject. And you know the best part? The part that keeps that particular contract from being filled?" Rose shook his head, even though he suspected the answer. "The best part is I've got a dozen more just like that one.
"We send mercs on missions nearly every week from this planet: raids, recons, even a minor assault or two. Garrison troops just pack up and leave for a couple of months, then come limping back. At least the lucky ones are still able to limp. They spend their contract money on repairs and off they go on another. It's like a goddamn revolving door."
Rose nodded. From the reports he'd seen by Priam, that was exactly what Wolcott offered. Mercenaries ran a string of high-risk, high-pay contracts back-to-back from Wolcott, supplemented by garrison duty.
"You guys operate independendy of the Mercenary Review and Bonding Commission for all non-garrison missions," observed Rose. "How do I know I'll get paid when I get back?"
Zimmer smiled, but it was Toshirov who answered. 'The money is placed in your name in a bank on Outreach. The money is listed as a deposit, which can't be touched for the length of the contract." She smiled, too, taking her cue from Zimmer. "Once the contract is over, the money, reverts solely to you."
"No strings?" asked Rose.
Zimmer laughed. "None needed, Rosie. It's real simple. If you make it back to Wolcott, you've probably earned half the payment. Each contract has a primary and a secondary objective. Provide proof of completion of the primary and you get the whole thing. Finish the secondary and you get two-thirds."
"What if I don't make it back?" asked Rose.
"Well, that's the down side," said Zimmer with a smile, indicating he didn't think it was down side at all. "You don't come back and the Combine keeps the whole thing."
"What about an insurance clause?" asked Rose.
"No such thing on Wolcott, Rosie. Oh, that reminds me ... there's no such thing as an advance, either."
"Sounds too good to be true," commented McCloud.
"It is at first glance," said Toshirov, "but once you examine it, you'll see that the contracts offer us some real advantages. If you make it back at all, the Draconis Combine will benefit even if you don't fulfill either mission objective. If you don't come back, we're out some incidental cost, but that's small change compared to a standard contract."
"What's to keep you from pulling the contract money once we jump into Clan space?" asked Rose.
"Good thinking, Rosie," replied Zimmer. 'The first time we jerk a merc unit around is the last time we get any more of you out here. Wolcott has to rely on its solid reputation. Theodore Kurita himself has issued that directive, and nobody here wants to take the risk of ticking him off.
"So what do you say?" Zimmer smiled. He already knew the answer, but wanted to hear it out loud.
"We're in," said Rose.
"I knew it all along, Rosie. You're a real thrill-seeker.
"Patti, see that Captain Rosie receives a copy of all outstanding contracts and preliminary reports as appropriate."
Patti indicated the forgotten Myoto. "Tai-i Myoto has all the pertinent information, sir," said Patti.
"Myoto, I almost forgot about you. Please excuse me," Zimmer said, then turned back to Rose. "Rosie, I'm sure you remember a small point of the contract which indicated that command of your unit passed through a liaison officer?" Rose closed his eyes, praying that he wasn't about to hear what he feared might be the next words. "Myoto is that very officer. Treat her nice, Rosie, because this is her first assignment." Rose cringed and Zimmer barked in laughter.
"Once you've selected a contract for bidding, contact Patti and he'll set everything up." Zimmer turned to Patti. "Whatever they ask, Patti, give it to them. No questions asked." Zimmer turned to Rose, but continued to address Patti. "After all, we're old friends."
Rose stood, followed immediately by Jamshid and McCloud. Bowing slightly to the Combine officers, he headed for the door with Myoto, McCloud, and Jamshid in tow. Just as he was about to open it, Zimmer called out to him.
"Take your time selecting, Rosie.
Maintenance is getting cheaper by the week." Zimmer was still laughing when Jamshid closed the door.
12
Mercenary Garrison District
Wolcott, Draconis Combine
1 March 3057
While the rest of the company worked around the base and continued their practice sessions, Rose concentrated on the selection of a supplemental mission. If the task was difficult, it was because he had way too much information instead of the usual lack of it. In many cases the reports named the Clan opponents right down to the individual star, which was the standard Clan fighting unit roughly equivalent to an Inner Sphere lance.
Rose had protested vehemently when Myoto appeared the morning after this meeting with Zimmer at the controls of a Kurita Grand Dragon heavy BattleMech. While Myoto waited patiently in her 'Mech, Rose contacted the liaison office to ask why she was at his compound and why she'd insisted on bringing her 'Mech along with her. Ranting and raving did no good and neither did polite requests to have her 'Mech quartered in the Kurita compound. After over an hour of "conversation" with the liaison office, Rose was finally forced to accept Myoto's posting with the Black Thorns.
It wasn't so much personally or professionally that Rose objected to the assignment of Myoto. She was competent enough, even if slightly clumsy, and the reports she had gathered for the Black Thorns were certainly complete.
Rose's objection had to do with having a liasion officer so close to his unit. He had accepted the idea of the liaison, had even looked forward to it in an odd sort of way. After all, the liaison officers he'd known as a member of the Com Guards had always seemed to be a little unusual. Usually they were individuals at the end of their military careers who were only interested in finishing their service with honor. Occasionally, he'd met a young firebrand or a disgraced warrior assigned to a problem mercenary unit, but that was the exception. It took a person of experience and/or talent to stand between an employer and a mercenary unit, unless the employer wanted that mercenary unit dead.
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