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Chapter 27 - Winged Praxis (Battletech 3015 CYOA)[]
Registering Day[]
Comstar Compound
City of Jakarta, Fanardir
Fanardir System, Magistracy of Canopus
7th April, 3015
"Peace of Blake be upon you, my children," said a matronly woman in robes covered in embroidered math notation. "I am Precentor Filomena Pereria. I understand that you have business with the Mercenary Review Board?"
I did my best not to shudder at the priestess of Blake's little knock off A Canticle for Liebowitz techno-cult. It wasn't easy. From one of my lives, I knew that she was the face of an organization responsible for the largest share of the Inner Sphere's degradation and ongoing wars. It was at Comstar's behest that Anton's revolt had come to fruition, and all because the FWL's economy was doing too well. From the other of my lives…sure the Blakists were neutral, and did a lot of public works, but they were los ateos, worshipping technology and a dead man without any connection to Adonai. We…didn't cotton to that much at all.
But just because Filomena had risen to Precentor of a Periphery HPG station, that didn't mean she was an ultra-fanatical ROM agent. She probably just agreed that technology was best kept out of the hands of infidels like me and would happy to cooperate with the more driven, active workers of Blake's will. I was forcibly reminded of how little difference there was between a Nazi and a Nazi supporter.
I shook my head, even as Phillipa exchanged pleasantries with the precentor. It was also totally possible that Filomena was the sort of Blakist who viewed her work as preserving what was left and doing what she could to ease the suffering of those who lived in the ruins of the Star League. She might enable the evil of the Terran Hegemony's ghost, but her heart might be in the right place. It was possible.
I shook her hand and took a seat in front of her desk. "Yes, Precentor. I'm afraid this will be a bit complex."
"Oh, many things seem more complicated than they are," she said. "But with the teachings of Blake, I find that it is possible to unravel the most daunting knot."
I suppressed the impulse to roll my eyes and make a pithy comment about Alexander's solution to the Gordian Knot, instead taking the files for TASS and Crossbones Squadron proffered by Phillipa. "Our intention is to fold these two MRB-certified units into a new unit," I said, sliding the hardcopy over to the precentor, who put on a pair of reading glasses that had to be an affection here in the Magistracy and read over the files.
"I see," she said. "Tomlinson Aerospace Security Solutions, incorporated on Holt, and Crossbones Squadron, incorporated on Atreus." She examined the particulars. "Eight fighters altogether?"
"Five," I admitted. "Plus a Leopard CV and a patrol tug. Crossbones got chewed up over Vikindu."
"I'm sorry to hear it." said the Precentor in the sort of automatic way that had everything to do with formality and little to do with sincerity. I managed a grunt in response, which she didn't even seem to acknowledge. "Well, of course I'm happy to help you sir, but I really don't see why you would want to start a new unit. Crossbones Squadron has a fine MRB rating, despite this latest setback…" I was suddenly glad that Vixen wasn't with me. She might have assaulted the precentor for that. "…and merging it and Tomlinson Aerospace Security Solutions under a new mercenary company will bring down the MRB rating far more than if you just brought Tomlinson into Crossbones."
"We're going to be going through some extremely rapid growth," I said. "My father recently passed and left me with resources to start a combined arms unit." Phillipa slid the Precentor a few edited sections of the will, including a simplified version of the financials. The robe's eyes bugged out a bit behind her glasses at the sum. "In the short term, we're going to be setting up a training command on Canopus IV as we evaluate what was left to me and spin up our staffing."
"I imagine that you will have little trouble with that," she said, collecting herself. "Zalman, Zalman, where do I know that name?" she murmured, and I prepared for a desperate act of violence. She snapped her fingers, and I nearly flew over the table at her. "Ah yes! You're the one who invited those Trinary Leaguers out here."
"Trinity Worlders," I corrected by reflex, letting my heartbeat finish its imitation of a hummingbird. "And yes, I did put out a call for interested recruits from home."
"Well, I'll daresay that you will have plenty of selection soon." she said. "There's been quite a lot of message traffic from shipping companies that are trying to meet demand, along with other such disruptions."
"Well, good for me, I suppose," I said.
"Would you like to send out a recruiting call in the Magistracy as well?" she asked. "Or perhaps to Galetea?"
I looked over to Phillipa, who looked as nonplussed as I. "How much would that cost?" I asked.
"Well, Galatea is one of our normal message cycles, so there would be minimal wait time, and only a moderate charge." She typed on a keyboard embedded in her desk, then quoted a reasonable price. "Though of course, you would be better served by having a factor on the planet itself."
I looked over at Phillipa. "Something to discuss for the future, I think. Might as well put out an invitation for ASF drivers and mechwarriors with their own machines though. Maybe techs and dropper crews too. Nothing binding, but it's something to think about."
"This isn't my area of expertise, Colonel Zalman," she said. "I'm afraid I can't offer much in the way of guidance."
I pulled out a blank page and started writing up a form invitation. I didn't figure much would come of it, but there was nothing wrong with trying. "Do you think this would do, Precentor?" I asked after giving it a once-over.
"I don't know how much attention that will get," she admitted, "But the Blessed Order is happy to transmit your message, and I don't imagine anyone could hold you to any promises from that text."
"Probably the important thing at this stage," I said. "What about a recruiting call in the Magistracy?"
The Precentor quoted another price. It was more than the last one, but my eyes narrowed in suspicion.
"Now I know that you're giving me a deal," I said, leaving the fact that Comstar never had to do that unsaid. "What gives?"
"Frankly, Colonel Zalman," she said. "I'm worried. With the war in the Free Worlds League becoming ever more volatile, I find myself turning to Blake's teachings on the duality of weapons of war."
I raised an eyebrow. "Can't say we read many of those on the kibbutz."
"Suffice to say that while the Blessed Blake respected the capability of weapons to destroy, he also knew they had the ability to shield that which is defenseless from those who inflict suffering and steal knowledge from humanity."
I bit back a retort about exactly how much ROM had been exactly what needed to be shielded against across the decades upon decades of war for that damn throne. "I can't say I see how giving me a break on my recruiting prices will play into that."
"I'm hoping that a fresh unit with Magistracy and League ties will discourage cross-border aggression," she said. At my incredulous look, she laughed. "Think of it as an act of faith, Colonel Zalman. The Blessed Blake acted when he was called to it by history. I am just attempting to follow in his footsteps. It may be that I am wrong, but I have my responsibility to humanity. I must do something."
I cocked my head to the side. "Put it that way, guess I can't argue." I racked my brain for what I wanted from Canopus. ASF drivers and mechwarriors with machines of course, medics for sure, armor crews as cadre, con air pilots to turn into proper torch jocks… "This might take a bit for me to come up with the message," I apologized.
"You are doing me a favor as well," said the Precentor. "If it helps, I can provide you with a desk to type things up, and an Acolyte who will send the message out when you're done."
I nodded. "That'd be helpful. Thank you, Precentor Pereria."
She smiled. "The peace of Blake be upon you, Colonel."
Airshow and Tell[]
Buquoy Memorial Spaceport
City of Jakarta, Fanardir
Fanardir System, Magistracy of Canopus
8th April, 3015
I had to admit, Cliffhanger was good at this.
Watching her walk the crowd through the qualities of each of our spaceframes, along with little humanizing moments for our pilots was something I never would have expected from the stern instructor I had known back at LMS. But there it was.
Her banter back and forth with Candy as he flew the Centurion demonstration let her expand on the difference between Combine and Free Worlds fighter philosophy, as well as the differences between regular military and mercenary operations had me captivated just as much as the crowd, making it hard for me to interject with my scripted commentary.
Socks's return to the cockpit in the Corsair was something I had heard before, but the focus she paid on just how good my friend felt after getting the chance to fly again after so long filled me with warmth. I knew just how much Anvit had been missing the cockpit, and delighted in teasing him through the demonstration, even as I argued the qualities of the standard Corsair against the Sand Hawk we flew.
"And now, if you'll direct your eyes to the left, you'll see one of our Colonel's favorite fighters," she said as Terri rolled in out of the cloud deck and started her first low speed pass.
"The spaceframe, or that particular bird, Captain?" I replied into my own mike.
"I suppose that either way would work, wouldn't it?" she asked.
.gif){kind=link}
Stingray Fighters on orbital maneuvers.
"It sure would. I'm sure some people would argue with me, but the F-90 Stingray might just be the finest ASF you can get behind the stick of, particularly in atmosphere. Just look at those distinctive forward swept wings."
"Believe it or not, that's a design cue that dates all the way back to pre-spaceflight Terra."
"I've heard that," I said. "Apparently the challenges with controlling it at high speeds required a fly-by-wire system, one of the earliest ancestors of the optronic fly-by-light system the Stingray uses today."
"It's a tricky wingform, to be sure," said Kumari. "But look at the angle of attack you can get."
Above us Terri was demonstrating, holding the F-90's nose at nearly 70 degrees above her plane of flight.
I nodded. "Oh yes. It's part of why I love flying that bird. You can point your nose damn near anywhere in the sky if you're willing to pull the Gs, and you can do that all without vectored thrust or the RCS. That's pure aerodynamics, ladies and gentlemen. It's why every pilot cadet across the border prays for a Stingray slot."
"There was a time when that wasn't true," said Kumari. "Early on, the Stingray was looked at with a lot of hesitation. People remembered what happened to the Deathstalker program over Solaris, and they figured that this new lighter fighter was going to end up the same way. Like we said, it's a tricky wingform, and the airflow over forward swept wings can lead to some severe stresses."
"Well, we got a good song out of it, and she never blamed the F-77 program for that crash, and Andurien Aerospace was right to keep on working on the concept."
"They were indeed," she said. "They were so right, that the spaceframe would become the basis of the advanced fighter-scale SDS systems the Star League used. But I find it so much more beautiful in its manned configuration. The dogfight is for pilots, not robots."
"Couldn't agree more," I said. "And the Stingray, or Slantback, as some jealous Eagle pilots call it, is lethal in a dogfight. It can reach out and touch you with a Sunspot PPC, a pair of big Hellions, and another pair of smaller Hellion beams. You'll get a mite toasty if you just hold down the TICs for all of those, of course, so part of being a good Stingray driver is knowing what to fire when."
As I had listed off the weapons, Terri had been firing them in training mode.
"It's definitely a concern," said Cliffhanger. "One thing people don't realize about aerospace piloting is just how much heat matters to us. Sure, a mech will slow down as it starts to overheat, but too much heat can cause one of our rides to go wild. You can see that especially with the Chippewas the Lyrans fly. If one of their pilots goes ahead and lights off all of their beams, they're in danger of melting their FLCS."
"That's flight control system for you non-pilots," I said. "Not a good time."
"No," she said. "And if you push it, just like a Battlemech, the torch can go into automatic shutdown. That kind of stuff is bad news in a void fight, but you might be able to recover if your opponent doesn't end up blowing you into splinters."
"But loss of power, or your fighter deciding to nose into that friendly mountain ridge is just a bit more concerning down here in atmosphere," I picked up. "So, we take heat management seriously. The Chip is 90 tons of stupid, unlike the 60 tons of beauty we've got showing off above us."
"Speaking of Steiner stupidity," cut in Terri over the circuit. "They also butcher the Stingrays they have."
"That was Lieutenant Teresa "T-Bone" Tomlinson from the pilot's seat," said Kumari, "and she's absolutely correct. Lyrans got the idea to replace the Sunspot with an autocannon, and they only ended up with a spaceframe with ammo dependency, less punch, and a nose-heavy tendency that they were trying to fix and only made worse."
"Sure," I said, "It's much cooler running, and I know some pilots like autocannons in dogfights, especially the variable-rate ones fighters tend to mount, but I'd take the lightning any day, and thrice on Sundays."
"And the stupidest part," said Terri, "was the nose-heavy tendency they were trying to fix is something you want to recover out of high AOA maneuvers. Only, according to a pilot who got stuck with one of the Steiner models I talked to, it's so nose-heavy now that it's hard to get quite the AOA you can get out of a sparky bird like this."
"T-Bone and our Colonel both pilot this amazing machine on the regular, and both of them have great respect for its capabilities."
"I have great respect for its pilot," I said. "T-bone here was the scion of a mechwarrior house, but she heard the call of the sky and its freedom. Like the majority of our crew at Colectivo Mercenario de Coyote, she served in the Battle of New Olympia, volunteering even before she had finished her training. She scored three kills in that fighting, two of which, an Eagle and a Trangressor, might have blown me out of the sky. I'd fly with her on my wing anytime." I stood up. "But as much as I'd like to talk up my pilots all day long, I'm afraid I have to leave you with the announcing talents of Cliffhanger and the flying talents of T-bone." I muted my mike and pushed it away.
Cliffhanger picked up smoothly. "That's right. After this demonstration ends, there will be a short intermission and then the Colonel will be flying a duo show with one of our most talented pilots. In the meantime, if you're interested in joining us in the mercenary life, we will be setting up a training school on Canopus IV, training pilots, armor crews, and elite jump infantry. Do you have the clever soul, mad courage, and noble heart of the trickster spirit? Do you crave freedom? Find out if you can become a Coyote."
Placing your Bets[]
Buquoy Memorial Spaceport
City of Jakarta, Fanardir
Fanardir System, Magistracy of Canopus
8th April, 3015
"I listened in on the show," said Vixen as we dressed in the locker room. "You and Kumari make a pretty solid announcing team."
"She makes it easy," I said, grunting as I pulled my harness tight. "You know she was the hardass IP back at LMS?"
Diane did a quick checkover of my rigging that I returned for her. "I can believe it. She's still wound a bit tight. You'd think she was still FWLM, the way she talks sometimes."
"Don't tell me you think Socks is right about this whole thing being an Eagle Corps op," I joked.
"If it is, you're in on some pretty deep cover." she said, slapping my ass. "Just think, you could abandon the mission, go native…"
"Tempting," I said. "Why don't we discuss that later tonight?"
"Care to make a little bet on our display?" she said with a lascivious look.
"And here I thought you were going to go easy on me so I look good to the recruits."
"Throw the match?" she said. "What's the point of that? I'm giving you incentive so you do your very best."
I rolled my eyes. "What do you want?"
She smiled. "If I win, you're spelling the alphabet tonight."
I snorted, picking up my helmet and heading for the door. "Hell, you just have to ask. I'll spell the aleph-bet if you want something different."
"Huh?" she asked, following me.
"You know," I said, "Aleph, bet, gimmel, dalet…"
"I forgot you have multiple tongues."
"Just one," I smirked, "But it's versatile."
"I just might take you up on that. What do you want?"
I considered it a moment. "Collar, maybe?"
"Oooh. But that's not much of a forfeit. I like that."
"And I like a win-win," I said, sneaking one of the kisses that were becoming more natural. "Now come on, game face on." I settled the neurohelmet over my head.
Sparring is good foreplay[]
"And now the moment you've all been waiting for," rang out Kumari's voice over the PA. "If you'll direct your attention to the flightline, you'll see a pair of fighters being wheeled out of the hangar. On the left is the F-10 Cheetah, and on the right is a spaceframe that should be familiar to any Canopian, the SB-27 Sabre! Flying this pair of light fighters for us today is Coyote Lead, and Skull Lead. That's Colonel Gideon "Duster" Zalman, and his wife, Captain Diane "Vixen" Zalman!"
Vixen and I walked out onto the snowy tarmac, bundled up in our flightsuits and neurohelmets, wearing bomber jackets over them for the extra warmth. We waved to the crowd as we went, before turning and walking to the 'crew chiefs' we had dolled up for this demonstration.
I returned Kalpit's salute and shook his hand. "How's she doing, Kalpit?"
"Purring like a kitten," he said. "She might have the 216 painted on her, but the number two laser is focusing just fine."
"I suppose I'll have to make do," I said with a smile, caressing the numbers I had insisted on adding to the Sabre.
"The Colonel and Captain will now demonstrate the speed with which such light fighters can be in the air and ready to fight. Remember folks, the scramble siren you are about to hear is simulated, but we've heard it for real before, and in those cases, seconds matter. Had this been an emergency, you would have seen our pilots sprinting out to their craft and vaulting in, ready to get to grips with the enemy."
A klaxon went off and I did just as Cliffhanger had said, flying up the ladder and vaulting into the seat. I slapped the scramble switch, and busied myself clipping and socketing in, assisted by Kalpit, who slapped the top of my neurohelmet twice when he was satisfied, closed the canopy, and hurried the ladder away to outside of minimum safe distance for a VTOL lauch.
<{"Security Check,"}>said Betty. <{"Neural Scan Within Acceptable Parameters. Oil."}>
"Hinay ma tov umah naeem," I recited, "shevet acheem gam yachad."
<{"Code Accepted. Access Granted. Reactor, Online. Sensors, Online. Weapons, Online. All Other Functioning Systems, Nominal."}>
I did a quick confirmation sweep of my instruments to confirm what Betty had said, made double sure my weapons were in training mode, and checked that no ground crew were in the danger zone. Seeing no problems, I kicked in vertical thrust and pogoed up off the ground, before kicking in the main thrust and pulling back on the stick. "Coyote 1-1, climbing," I transmitted as I made sure to keep under Mach.
<<"Skull 1-1, on your wing Coyote,">> replied Vixen, sticking to the script we had worked out.
>>"Copy. Baseplate, Baseplate, Coyote 1-1. Have scrambled with Skull 1-1. Two ship light fighters, Angels 10 and climbing, type Sabre and Cheetah, clean wings, State 10. Request tasking."<< Control Tower radioed
<("I'm Baseplate,")> explained Kumari. <("In this case, I'm the person coordinating where our fighters go and who called the scramble. In a scramble, it's entirely possible that pilots aren't going to know what's going on, and where they're most needed, just that they need to be up there right now. The Colonel has just told me what sort of assets I'm working with, two light fighters, their altitude, exactly what types of light fighters they are, if they're carrying extra ordnance, and what their fuel and armor state is. And like any good fighter pilot, he's just asked for a target.")>
I smiled behind my mask as we continued to ascend.
Kumari cut back into her 'Baseplate' persona. <("Coyote, Baseplate. Split formation. Coyote, snap to heading 180, bogey is light fighter, type unknown. Skull, snap to heading 00, bogey is light fighter, type unknown.")>
We split, me heading south as Vixen headed north. As we did, Cliffhanger talked about how this would be done only in extreme circumstances, and how with teamwork, fighters could punch far above their weight. "A lance is an asset, a single-ship is a liability," I murmured to myself, below the threshold of the microphone. I checked that my weapons were on training mode one more time.
>>"Coyote, Skull, bogeys made it past you!"<< snapped Baseplate. >>"Reverse course now, bogey will be on the nose, five clicks."<<
Vixen and I did so, pulling into a pair of Immelmanns that matched each other. As we rolled out at the top of the half loops, our noses pointed at each other. I selected Vixen's Cheetah as my primary contact of interest, and the DI computer classified it as what I knew it was, along with an extra tag: (TRAIN) HSTL. "Baseplate, Coyote, bandit, type Cheetah, 00 for 5, hot, judy judy."
Kumari translated for the crowd. <("The Colonel has just told me that the contact is hostile, it's a Cheetah, and it's directly north of him by 5 kilometers, heading towards him, and that he's taking over the intercept. Now make sure to look closely folks, you're getting a rare chance to watch a practice dogfight, what we call DACT, or Dissimilar Aerospace Combat Training, between two veteran pilots. As our pilots go to the merge, for safety's sake they won't be firing head-on, as that could lead to a mid-air collision. But in a real fight, anything goes. As soon as the fighters pass each other, the fight will be on.")>
<<"Ready for this, Duster?">> asked Vixen over a private channel. <<"You haven't lost your reflexes flying the F-90 for so long?">>
"Like slipping back into an old comfortable set of jeans," I replied, rocking my wings back and forth. "Let's do this."
<("For those of you betting down here on the ground, Vixen holds a tally of eight kills, all but one at the stick of her Cheetah.")> said Kumari as we sped towards the merge. <("Duster has four victories under his belt, of which he picked up three of them in one hard-fought sortie. The last time they faced each other in training, Vixen came out on top, but not before Duster and his wingman took out five of her squadron. And that was a void fight where Duster was flying our F-90. This is the first time they've gone head-to-head with light fighters down in the atmosphere...")>
.png){kind=link}
Cheetah Light Aerospace Fighter
I tuned her out. Now was time to focus. I rolled my fighter up on its left wing and took her down the left side, signaling my intent to turn into her. "Fight's on!" I called, slapping the stick to the right and yanking back, rolling back to the right and pulling away from her. Snapping my head to the appropriate sector of sky, I saw her turning away from me, just as I'd hoped.
<<"Tricky,">> she grunted, realizing I'd forced her into a two-circle fight. The Cheetah had excellent nose-pointing ability, and for all of its excess thrust, down here in a sub-Mach turning fight, my Sabre could out-rate it, as its semi delta wingform bled energy faster than my Sabre did at high AoA. That tendency of delta wings was the origin of the myth that Cheetahs had poor atmospheric handling.
.png){kind=link}
Sabre Light Aerospace Fighter
The split second for the roll had cost me some angles, so I concentrated on max rating the Sabre and my anti-G strain, feeling my suit contract around my lower body to keep my blood in my brain. I was rewarded as Vixen's black and white Cheetah slid forward in my canopy as I gradually outrated her. "You know," I said as her tail started to enter my HUD, "I do love getting behind you, but don't make this too easy."
<<"Okay then,">> she said, reversing the turn.
Anticipating it, I fired as she flashed across the HUD. Only one of the mediums hit, but I followed the turn, keeping on her tail, playing my stick and pedals to keep with her. "Now that's more like it!" I said, baring my teeth.
<<"You like it when I play hard to get?">> she asked, dumping the nose for a moment before rolling back and turning things into a scissors back and forth. One circle land, just where her Cheetah liked to be.
"Sparring is good foreplay," I said, working to keep from overshooting before reversing back into her. Our altitude rapidly fell away. "Don't forget the hard deck, dear."
<<"We had a hard deck?">> she joked, ignoring the fact that both of our fighters' computers were projecting simulated ground level at two hundred meters.
"Hey, a maneuver kill is a kill," I said as I missed another snapshot. "I won't complain if I drive you down into the ground."
<<"No, you certainly don't.">> She was leading our fight closer to the city, which our computers were projecting a wireframe mountain range around. I figured she intended to do something tricky with terrain masking, which is why I damn near yelped as she finally forced the overshoot she had been working towards. Betty reported my wing taking laser fire, and I snatched myself out of Vixen's laser solution even as she laughed. <<"My turn, honey.">>
"Goose, gander," I said as I rolled and turned back and forth with her. "Enjoying the view of my tuchus?"
<<"I'd love to give it a sla…ack!">> she broke off as I made a turn that would have given her a fine shot, if it hadn't been for the building-mountain I used to mask myself. She pulled up to avoid the projected peak, and I curled in around the false terrain, driving in on her tail and lighting her up with my laser battery.
I didn't have time to register just how much damage I had done as I rolled to avoid her slower-climbing Cheetah, before splitting the throttles and stomping in rudder for a hammerhead reversal, getting an excellent planform shot at her as my nose came around. I tracked her with laser fire as she rolled into level flight. "Tell me that's a kill, or I'm going to suspect Kalpit of swapping your armor model with a Stuka."
Vixen laughed. <<"That's a kill. Probably didn't even need the hammerhead fire. Nice flying.">>
"You as well. Not everyone makes me work for it," I said, forming up with her. "And what is that?" I asked as I heard a jingling noise over the comms.
<<"Oh, just playing with a neckpiece,">> she said in a too innocent voice. Looking over to her canopy, I spotted a black leather collar with metal fittings over her flight suit neck.
<("You do realize,")> said Kumari, sounding aggrieved, <("that you weren't on a private channel for all that?")>
Whoops. I could see Diane shaking with silent laughter in her cockpit. That hadn't been in the script.
"Is this the Magistracy of Canopus or isn't it?" I asked, going for as flip as I could. "Now, I'm going to RTB, then RTB. Coyote Lead out."
- Words from the Author
- And that'll wrap us up on Fanardir with, as promised, a chat with a Precentor, and another airshow. And the unit is named. Duster has started El Colectivo Mercenario de Coyote. I've also started testing the various camos with pauldrons and greaves in red-tan on some minis. I think that's going to end up as the scheme for sure. The dogfight between Duster and Vixen, by the way, was written to an extended version of Showdown from Project Wingman.