D. R. T.

by James D. Long

  "O'Shea is right. The Bristol will not be part of this mission. After all my bitching about not wanting to be in the military, I finally decide I'll do it and the Snakes say they don't want me." She hung her head in shame for a moment, then looked back at the group.

  "It seems I've stepped on a few toes during our brief stay here on Wolcott. Because of that, I've been denied clearance for flying combat missions." Rose could hear the strain in her voice, but hoped that was only because he knew McCloud so well. Her statements to her crew and the Thorns were costing her dearly, but she continued to speak.

  "I wish there was some other way to do this, but you'll be using another DropShip for this contract. The Bristol will be making runs back into Combine space while you're gone." McCloud sat down abruptly. Rose had heard her voice start to break as she spoke the last few words.

  He picked up where she'd left off. "The Bristol is not leaving us, at least not on a permanent basis. We've all got bills to pay, and spacers are no different in that regard. The Bristol and her crew will still be based here on Wolcott, but they'll be living their own schedule for a while."

  Sudden silence filled the room as Rose quit speaking. Even though the captain and crew of the Bristol weren't really going anywhere, the veteran Thorns felt like they'd just lost a close friend. McCloud had never officially signed up with the Thorns, but every warrior in the unit considered her and her crew a part of their family.

  Rose allowed his people to collect their thoughts for a moment, then went on. "At any rate, we'll be assigned a new DropShip and crew in a few weeks. Then we'll have a couple of months to train, both on the ground and with the ship. I shouldn't have to tell you that isn't much time, but I'll do it anyway—it isn't much time." Rose let his voice rise, capturing the full attention of every warrior in the room.

  "Starting tomorrow we'll devote ourselves to training for this particular mission. It just so happens I've got the lance roster constructed, so we'll be fighting and moving by lances from now on. I know we've been rather informal about leadership up to this point, but that changes effective immediately." Rose looked around the room and was happy to see everyone was giving him their full attention. "All warriors report to your lance commander immediately following this meeting.

  "Recon lance under the command of Lieutenant Ajax. Yuri, you'll take command of the Dasher. Treat her right.

  Leeza, you've got your own Mercury so the recon lance shouldn't be much of a surprise to you. Good luck. Kitten, you and your Panther round out the lance. Ajax, you've got nothing but unmolded clay to work with."

  "I shall be an artist," Ajax responded without a trace of a smile.

  Rose continued. "The recon lance is designed for speed, but they're not short on firepower. The Panther and the Dasher make sure of that. Keep in mind, however, that the primary job of these 'Mechs is to locate the enemy and tell the other two lances where to find them.

  "That leads me to the battle lance under the command of Esmeralda. Hawg and O'Shea, you'll keep your original postings with the Battlemaster and the Warhammer. Let's remember why we're out there, all right?" Rose looked at all three members of the battle lance, but made sure O'Shea understood the seriousness of his position. He was happy to see the man nodding solemnly. "Joining you will be Greta in the Charger."

  Rose turned to Greta. "That used to be my ride, so treat her nice."

  "I'll treat her as my very own," said Greta. "I'd rather you treat her like she belonged to your commanding officer," Rose rebutted with a smile and a wink. The look on her face showed she didn't know it was a joke until Hawg lightly elbowed her.

  "That leaves the command lance for everybody else. I still get to be the leader and Antioch Bell still gets to make sure I stay alive long enough to enjoy the position. Riannon will handle the communication work, and that leaves Jamshid as our newest member. He'll be piloting the second Mad Cat." Jamshid looked as though he would burst with pride at the new posting. Rose couldn't help but return the sentiment. "Any questions?" he asked, glancing around the room. "Just one," said Esmeralda. "If it isn't breaking security, which of the Clans are we going against?"

  Rose considered the question for a moment. "Well, I don't think I'm letting anything slip if I tell you we'll be up against the Nova Cats."

  "Ha!" barked Yuri from across the room, turning suddenly sheepish under Rose's stare. "Oops. Sorry, sir."

  "Did you win money, son?" asked Rose.

  Yuri smiled and shook his head. "No, sir, something better. Now I've got somebody to make my bed for the next week." Rose looked on in surprise as everybody turned toward Esmeralda, who just shrugged and held up her hands.

  "I even got odds. One month versus one week. Should have known better." Esmeralda looked totally forlorn, but the veterans knew better than to buy the act. They knew Yuri would receive a payback, probably before the end of the week. Rose could only stand there shaking his head.

  "That's all. Everybody out of the room. I can't stand to hear any more. Gambling in a mercenary unit. I'll be a laughing stock." Rose waved the other Thorns away in mock remorse, amused to see Yuri receiving a considerable amount of good-natured attention. Within seconds only Rose and McCloud remained.

  "I think that went well," he said, crossing the room to sit down next to her. She nodded, but didn't speak for several moments.

  "I've been thinking about it, and I believe I now know what I have to do." McCloud was very solemn, a stark contrast to the cheerful group that had just left the room.

  "And that is?" prodded Rose. .

  "I have to find a contract to transport a company back to Luthien or someplace. Something I'm cleared to do." The very words dripped contempt.

  "You could wait a couple of weeks. That way we'd have some ground time together."

  McCloud smiled. "Not likely. Now that you've got a mission, you'll throw yourself into it. Up early, back to bed late, and too tired to do anything but sleep."

  Rose sat straighter. "Never. I'm never that tired."

  McCloud smiled and leaned into him, forcing Rose to put his arm around her shoulder to keep his balance. "WelL I guess we'll have to see about that, but I know I can't afford to wait much longer for a contract run. Without the money for transporting the Thorns, I'm going to be short on the next payment if I don't turn up something quick." Rose wanted to say something clever or something that would make it all better, but McCloud had stated the problem very clearly. She needed the work and she needed it right away.

  "All right," he said, accepting the idea of McCloud's imminent departure. "I understand you have obligations that don't include me, but give me some time. I was just getting used to having you around, and I don't think I'm ready to have you gone." Rose felt his chest tighten. If Rachel was going to make a trip to Luthien, she would have to run the Smoke Jaguar blockade. Patti had already told him that was not a simple—or safe—thing to do.

  "Don't worry," she said, as if reading his mind. "I'm not through with you." She laid a hand on his arm. "I'll be back before you leave on this Green Dagger thing."

  "I'll count on it," he said. Rose was still wrestling with the new idea of McCloud being in danger and him unable to help. He'd already had to contemplate the prospect of losing her several times in the past and had found it almost unbearable. The idea of McCloud actually dying scared the hell out of him.

  "Let go to bed," she said standing slowly. "Can they live without you for the rest of the night?"

  Rose nodded and also stood up. "The lance commanders will handle everybody but Jamshid, and Antioch will take him." He smiled. "Looks like I'm free for the evening."

  "Then let's not waste it." She turned and headed back to their room, leaving Rose with only one option: follow her and make sure the night was put to good use.

  14

  Mercenary Garrison District

  Wolcott, Draconis Combine

  15 March 3057

  The next two weeks passed in little more than a blur of training for all the Black T
horns, but especially for Rose. Every day the company, which now included Myoto, marched into the swamp for a full day of training. When they arrived back at the compound, the poor performers for the day were detailed to hose down all the BattleMechs before reporting for duty. While the rest of the company was engaged with their duties, Rose would plan the next day's activities and work with Riannon on the unit's supply requirements.

  Ria was great with the actual numbers, but didn't have the experience to predict what types of supplies would be necessary beyond the basics. Now that Rose knew the mission they'd be undertaking, he began looking for specific pieces of gear and ordnance. Once he'd determined what he wanted, Ria would make all the necessary arrangements for items to arrive in a timely manner.

  After the dinner hour Rose usually spent time with specific members of the company, depending on the day's activities. He particularly enjoyed the company of Bell and Hawg, but also made a point of socializing with the other members of the company during his leisure hours to make sure he got to know everyone. The evenings Rose always spent with McCloud. Occasionally they'd invite Esmeralda or one or more of the recruits, but mostly they spent their time alone, which was just the way Rose wanted it.

  McCloud passed her days looking for a contract, and Rose wasn't surprised when she announced to him one night that she'd accepted a job to transport a BattleMech company returning to Pesht. Rose lay awake the entire night staring at the darkened ceiling and listening to McCloud sleeping softly beside him. Although she hadn't said it, Rose knew the acceptance of a contract meant that from now on she would live on the Bristol until it was time to lift-off.

  He considered asking her to remain with him, but he knew what the answer would be and didn't want to hear it out loud. He also considered telling her how he felt and his hopes for their relationship, but the words failed him once again. In the end he settled for helping her pack up her gear and then seeing her off to the spaceport. They'd see each other again before lift-off, but by then she'd be firmly in her captain persona, giving him little opportunity to talk about the things that really mattered.

  Later that morning Rose got a call from the spaceport. At first he'd thought it was McCloud, but the message was from their new DropShip captain, Sinclair Danes. Rose was invited to meet with the captain to discuss the specifics of training and their upcoming mission. Rose wasn't sure whether to be offended by Danes' request that he come to the spaceport instead of Danes coming to the compound, but in the end he decided it didn't matter. He dropped out of the daily practice session and went to the spaceport alone.

  Rose was so lost in his thoughts on the way over that the driver had to jolt his daydreaming passenger back to the present before he realized the ride was over. As the car pulled away, Rose studied the DropShip in which he and the Black Thorns would travel to and from their mission. He wasn't sure whether to laugh or cry.

  The DropShip was the same class as the Bristol, but all similarities ended there. The nameless ship sat on its four legs, but leaned severely to the north. Rose could see that the struts on the northern leg were buckled badly. Most of the components to the leg doors had been removed—or shot away, Rose thought—and three technicians were performing repairs on the damage. He could also see that several of the giant armor plates had been recently replaced, but the leg still need several more new ones.

  As Rose walked toward the main cargo door, he continued inspecting the DropShip, now able to see the scars from small-arms fire around the frame of the cargo door. The bottom set of hinges were slightly askew, and the entire ramp was marred by blistered paint and burnt couplings. It could have been a fuel fire, thought Rose, but more likely the damage was the result of a homemade grenade. He smiled to himself. It looked like Danes had had his share of warm departures.

  Climbing up the ramp, Rose continued to see the aftereffects of small-arms fire and the indication of repair work. It was impossible to tell just how recent some of the repairs were, but it looked as though every visible part of the ship had been worked on at least once. When he actually got into the cargo bay, he saw that the damage was almost as heavy on the inside as the outside.

  The bay was empty except for two men standing amid a pile of junk. Rose couldn't hear a word, but from their faces and gestures, the conversation was obviously heated. As he got closer, the smaller of the two threw up his hands in disgust and stalked off toward the cargo door. He brushed past Rose without so much as a glance.

  The other man had his back to Rose, but turned around just as the mercenary was about to speak. In a flash Rose knew that this was the captain of the DropShip that would him and his men to Courcheval.

  The man was Rose's height, but much thinner in the hips and waist. He had broad shoulders, but not Rose's broadness of chest. Rather than the standard coveralls Rose associated with all DropShip crews, the man wore black work pants and a red shirt open to the waist. He studied Rose for a moment, pulling gendy on his thin mustache. Then he smiled and began to pick his way down through the unstable debris. With a jump to cover the last meter, the man arrived alongside Rose. He ran one hand through his curly brown hair and, with another smile, extended the other to Rose.

  "Sinclair Danes. You must be Jeremiah Rose." His grasp was firm, but not at all the kind of petty test of strength Rose might have expected. After a simple shake, he withdrew his hand. "I'm so very pleased to meet you." Rose was surprised; the greeting seemed sincere.

  "I hope that wasn't trouble," said Rose, indicating the man disappearing down the ramp.

  Danes laughed. "Nothing of the sort. That was my first mate. He just quit on me." Rose's heart sank, but Danes only smiled the wider. "Just as well, I suppose. The man had no class."

  Danes wrapped an arm around Rose's shoulders and gently turned him toward the interior door to the ship. "Why don't we take a look around?" Rose just nodded. "You're new to Wolcott, aren't you? No need to worry, I've been here since the start of this whole bloody business." Danes clapped Rose's shoulder good-naturedly. "I can't remember the number of times I've made the run past the Jaguars.

  "Say, mind if I smoke? Nasty habit, but I'm afraid it's a weakness." Danes nudged Rose in the side. "One of many, I'm afraid. He pulled a long brown cigarette from a shoulder pocket that looked like it had been designed to hold just such an item. Flicking an old-fashioned lighter, Danes lit up in a cloud of blue smoke.

  "Nothing like it, I'm afraid. Care for one?" Rose shook his head. "They say it'll kill me, but who wants to live forever?"

  Rose decided to keep his opinion to himself and concentrated on enduring the tour of Danes' ship. It was every bit as bad as he'd feared. Danes introduced him to several crew members, whose names Rose promptly forgot. Several spaceport technicians scuttled around lending their help to the variety of repairs that seemed to be happening everywhere on the ship. Danes talked on and on about the ship, the Clans, the Kuritas, and anything else that came to his mind. Rose decided he wasn't supposed to interrupt the monologue, so he kept quiet. All he could think of was that the minute he got out of here, he must contact Patti immediately about getting a new captain, of that there was no doubt.

  Rose was just about to make a break for the cargo doors, which had to be nearby, when Danes grabbed him by the elbow and gently pushed him through a doorway. At first Rose thought it was another serviceway, but after a short hallway they came to another door. Following Danes through the door, he realized this one led to a stateroom. Danes closed the door behind them, then flicked on a red light as he approached the bar.

  "Gods, but I'm dry." Danes poured two tumblers of amber liquid and passed one to Rose. "Too early?" he asked. Rose considered, but decided it was close enough to lunch to accept. He took the glass, but paused when Danes raised his slightly.

  "To comrades in arms," the other man said solemnly. At first Rose thought the toast was meant for him, but looking at Danes, he realized it was meant for someone far away and probably long since gone. Rose repeated the toast and sipped the l
iquid. Scotch. Maybe Danes wasn't so bad after all.

  "You could have helped me out, you know," said Danes between sips. Rose could only look confused. "I mean, I had to carry the entire conversation. Not that I couldn't, you understand, but it is hard on the throat." Danes took another sip.

  "Excuse me?" said Rose. "I thought you were very happy talking to yourself."

  "Pah," said Danes, waving the comment away. "That was for the ground crew. Most of them either work for the ISF or report to the liaison office. It's hard to tell who to trust, so I don't trust any of them."

  "But you trust me," said Rose.

  Danes considered the statement. "I have to, at least a little. You certainly proved you're a patient man and I like that in a person. Patience is such a rewarding attribute, don't you think?" Rose nodded and sipped again. The scotch was quite good and totally out of place in this room.

  "So, where are we?" asked Rose with a wave of his glass.

  He pointed to the red light. "Connected to some type of white noise generator?"

  Danes nodded. "You're good," he smiled. "I like to think of this as the conference room. It's actually listed as a storage room, but what's in a name? It's one of several places on the ship where we can talk in private when on the ground. After working with Tai-sa Zimmer, I've found secrecy has its advantages."

  "I concur," Rose said with a grimace. "So why the meeting? We could have talked at the Black Thorn compound and saved all this charade."

  Danes shook his head and set down his half-full glass. "I wanted to see how you operate away from your element. Get a measure of the leader I'll be working with." Rose nodded.

  "Of course, it's still too early to tell," Danes added quickly, "but I'd say you've got promise."

  "Thanks for the vote of confidence."

  "That vote is still pending. First let's see how you handle a little old-fashioned honesty," said Danes.

  "Is this the part where you tell me I'm not standing in a beat-up old DropShip on its last leg?" Rose allowed himself to feel slightly relieved. Maybe things were looking up.