Union of Independent Worlds Faction RP thread

[Cannonshop]

Der Landsgruppe Club, Reclaimed Zone, Oxford-on-Tyne...

"it is as good a time as any, Ezra." Miranda said, "Charlotte is on the visitor's list..." she reached into a satchel, drawing out papers.  

"what are those?" Ezra asked.

"Long-term lease papers on the plantation." she told him, "all these extra people, showing up, having to be brought in-I have no use for it." she said, "We had fun, and certainly you can make good use of the old Hacienda De Ortega lands, but you do not need me for that, si?"  She slid the papers across the table, "It is a twenty-year lease, renewable, and includes the current surveyed borders-as long as Clan Ice Hellion assigns you to Arluna, they have full use of the land and anything they find on it."

He looked at the papers for a moment, then at Miranda.  "But this is your home..?"

She shrugged, "I can make another-somewhere less crowded, I think.  Maybe further to the North and west-I understand that they need surveys and field-guides out by Brighton-on-the-Sea or Caracas.  I can't take you with me, you are...getting old, and you should play with someone closer to your own age...someone like Charlotte, who carries a torch for you as bright as the sun-besides, mi Madre's family had a twenty-thousand-acre logging and ranching hold near Caracas, and I think it will do for my needs-once I have properly removed the vermin."  she laughed, adding, "This domestic life, it is too boring, and I find I rather dislike meeting new people all the time, I want my splendid isolation."

[Cannonshop]

3071, June 14,  Winter System...

" m rhyddha ddynion We "  The crowd cheered, waving signs.

" ewyllysia ARHOSA Rhyddha Ddynion!  A na cyfrgolledig 'n anghyfiaith bendefig ai archon ydy yn cerdded at chymer a chennym - mo 'r Dylwythau chan Kerensky , ai 'r Lyrans chan Rhobert 'r bastard Steiner."   

The crowd's shouting echoed across the buildings, filling the sector of the Llwellyn Arcology.

Liam Collyn waited for the cheering to die down, "awron , ca i maes 'na a bleidleisio."


security point 14...

"Well, they're riled up, are we going to be posting additional guards at the polling stations?"  Lt. Nguyen Van Truon asked.

"No-it's a local matter."  Marine Captain Anh Dao Chien said, "Collyn's a good rabble-rouser, but he's polling weak in the german-ethnic majority, and there aren't enough Welsh and Gaelic to put him over the top in the Primaries in the other Arcologies."

[Cannonshop]

3071, Da Nang, Kowloon...

Joshua Wolf was big for a toddler, but the boy was obedient.  His fraternal twin Amanda was small for three, with large, inquisitive eyes, and more frustrating for her caregivers, fingers that seemed to find every dangerous object in reach.  "Tôi muốn thấy [/ i]." Amanda said, and Mrs. White reached down and lifted her up to watch the parade.

The girl's verbal and cognitive skills, like their mother, were developing well ahead of the average-her brother was, by contrast, almost disappointingly average, though he was the one who walked first.

"I almost recognized that." the Liason officer from the Dragoons commented, "When are you going to teach them english?"

"When the children are ready to learn it." Kelli said over her shoulder, "Amanda's just now developing a vocabulary that will let her get along with her own people, Joshua..."

"Joshua would do better to learn his father's tongue-the boy is half ours." the officer said, "Your own courts say so."

[Cannonshop]

Perth, New Queensland, Australia, 3071...

"...meat prices are down, Jesse, you're going to have to bow to reality-the taxes on your land are going to eat your profits, but..."  Gunderson opened a folio, "The company will pay you a good lease on this land-there's every indication that you've got some prime rare earths, especially here, in the southeast sector."

Jesse Parsons was sixteen now, a man of property, with a beef contract to the Marine base.  He looked at the geoplots.

"You want that damn sinkhole cave?" he asked.

"That sinkhole cave, as you call it, could make you and your wife very, very wealthy, mister Parsons, very wealthy indeed-Tanzanite has a lot of high-end applications in weapons and electronics, and it's fucking rare-you let the lease to MY firm, and you'll never have to worry about beef prices again."  the Surveyor folded his hands.

"I don't get it, why come to me, instead of...I heard stories, you know?" Jesse asked.

"Well, because one, you have an 'in' with the General, which means messing with you or sending in a claim-gang will screw us out of the big contracts.  Going with the local Minister Parlaiment's bully-boys won't cut ice if anyone that deals with us is blackballed by Harry Frisch because he thinks we screwed you."  Gunderson said, "Mind that, minus that angle, I would screw you-Tanzanite's a major compound in the control circuits for Pulse Laser weapons, which is a big profit margin if the geoplots and initial exploration results hold up."
Gunderson leaned back in his chair, "Get a Lawyer to look over those contracts and explain 'em to you-just, remember-I was honest enough with you to admit what I am-the next 'catter shows up will probably lie you up one side an' down the other."

[Cannonshop]

Paradiso, Inarcs, 3071.18.06...

"Samwell Gillaim?"  a voice asked, and Sam looked up from his drink.

Two men in brown jackets with steel 'Stars' stood over the booth.  One of them held up a PADD, and looked at him.

"Yes." Sam said,  "What can I do for members of the Marshall's Service?"

"You're under arrest for suspicion of inter-stellar conspiracy to commit terrorist and treasonable acts-namely, your transporting ninety kilos of J-221 detonators intended to be used against the Irian Yards."  the shorter man said, "Will you come quietly?"

"I don't know what you're talking about, Officer."  Samwell said,  "I demand the right to see the evidence against me."

Inwardly, Samwell's stomach was knotting-hard.  there's a leak in the movement!

"You have that right-but to exercise it, you best come along quietly."  the tall one said, "I'd as soon you didn't, kurva díra."  He drew his coat back, revealing a 10mm Stavlos automatic, "There are families in the habs connected to that yard, your plan would have murdered hundereds of innocents."

His knotted stomach went to ice-the tall one's accent could only be from the world of Millerton-which meant...

The smaller one flipped the PADD closed, "For your own safety, mister Gillaim, I'll have to ask you to surrender your sidearm, ammunition, and any electronic devices."

These were 'rent-a-cop' Marshalls, Samwell looked around the restaurant frantically, praying that they weren't accompanied-

There were Coast Guards.  Inwardly he cursed his cell-leaders for their failure to keep his mission secret.  The Marshalls were there, to represent the aggrieved party-accompanied by actual Law Enforcement meant that the evidence had to be...well, damning indeed.

The Cause would survive one martyr-Samwell nodded, and moved to place his pistol on the counter.

His other hand snapped open a vibroblade, and he lunged at the more dangerous of the two-the tall one, the Chekist security man.

The smaller one was the one that took his knife, and his hand, in a single fluid motion, and Samwell gaped at the stump, and the weapon that caused it.

The smaller one's gloved hand held a knife made from a single piece of ferroglass, wrapped in high-density cord.   "If you are acquitted, you'll be paid a bounty on the hand." the small one said quietly, "not that I think you will be.  You are bound by law, would you like your legal representative to meet with you by electronic connection, or in person?"

[Cannonshop]

Rotations

FWL Contract: Peacekeeping Operations, 3073/01/20
1st Brigade, 1st Marines (171st Volunteers) Transfer from Anembo Refit Complex (UIW) to assume station at Inarcs (Stand-To to relieve  BDE 2, 2nd Marine Division: Mission Peacekeeping, Solaris VII)

June, 3073:

Arrival
3rd BDE 2nd Marine Division (From Camp Puller, Arluna), Mission is Garrison Duty.
1st Battalion Force Recon and Project 8 personnel

Departure: 2nd BDE, 2nd Marine Division (Inarcs Jaegers) to assume station at Camp Puller (Arluna) for debrief and collective training/Cadre Duty to replace 3/2 Marines

November, 3073:
Arrival
1st BDE, 3rd Marine Division from Camp Johnson, Neerabup to [classified] Contract: Garrison Reinforcement and Peacekeeping mission, FWL security Contract zone.

January, 3074:
Arrivals
2nd BDE, 1st Marine Division from Bladen, Howick (UIW) to [Classified] FWL to relieve 1st BDE, 1st Marine Division.

June, 3074:
Departure, 1st BDE, 1st MarDiv (171st Volunteers RCT)

Arrival: 1st BDE, 2nd Marines (Albion) to relieve 3/2 Marines

November, 3074
Departure: 3/2 Marines
Arrival: 3/1 Marines to relieve 1st/3rd Marines...


Rotational Schematic:

Each Brigade contracted by the FWL serves for 12 to 18 months in garrison and cadre duties, with 12 months "On Station" and 6 months transition duty. (Brief in/brief out and relationship establishment with indigenous FWL and FWL sponsored forces).  Force Recon serves exclusively as OpFor to Cadre missions, as live-fire and force-on-force engagment is a portion of the Training/Doctrine of the UIW Marine Corps, and the customer has specifically contracted Marine forces to train local Militias on worlds they garrison.  Project 8 SFG is integral to 1st Marines Force-Recon, and serves an active role in simulating common special-forces based threats to further condition customer forces in carrying out their mission, as well as maintaining proficiency among "Regular" UMC units in dissimilar profile warfare scenarios.

Contract Duration: 10 Years (from 3070 to 3080) with an option of extension up to 20 years in duration.  Payment is in-kind, the FWL provides the UIW with supplementary warship hulls and support equipment on a bi-yearly basis until the end of the contract, at which time the UIW Navy takes full possessional ownership of said vessels and their support equipment.

Deployment Tempo is specifically designed to prevent units from becoming too entrenched in deployment zones outside the Union of Independent Worlds, and to ensure that experienced personnel are able to spread their knowledge to newer personnel as they are rotated home.  First stop for each unit returning to the UIW is a six month tour at Camp Puller to communicate lessons-learned to the next unit deploying to the FWL theatre, followed by a return to their primary or "home" station in the UIW for a minimum of two years before being deployed again.

High Tempo deployment operations are seen by the Department of the Navy as excellent experience-building practice in long-range logistics and war-planning, as well as a good source of experience building for crews that may be slated to exploration missions.  To this end, the supporting Naval Task Groups will rotate along with their designated brigades.

Force Recon Battalions will be deployed for three-years+three months into the FWL zone, supported by Coast Guard assets, due to the much smaller force size of the Force Recon Brigade.  These units will coordinate with FWLM and FWL Intelligence agencies to determine most-likely threats and where possible, mimic those threats for training operations.

[Cannonshop]

Camp Puller, 3072/12/31, 0700 hours...

"fall in." Gunnery Sgt.  Eddie Vanh snapped.  "Leaves are cancelled, when the old man gets out here, he'll tell you all why those leaves are cancelled. In the meantime, I want you ate up motherfuckers to fall in, single file, at the amnesty box, and empty your duffles of any contraband-including the..." he paused, "Trophies, that some of you took when we hit the Martyr base on New Capetown-hurry the fuck up about it."

If Albion were the 'elite' regular units, then the Force Recon Battalion was positioned to be something more...or at least, to have a darker reputation.  Lance Corporal Walker had the worst ones-she had taken ears from her kills.  at least it ain't testicles. Eddie mused, as the assistant fireteam leader for second squad tossed the grisly string into the amnesty chest.  Eddie stopped her as she turned to return to formation. 

"If I ever find out you pulled that kind of stupid assed stunt again, Walker, you won't worry about getting DX for a mental." he growled, "got it?"

"Aye aye." she said, without much enthusiasm.

"I'm serious." Eddie said, "if the Lyrans found out anybody had been cutting up bodies, it could get a lot of the home-folks in deep shit.  We do NOT need that kind of deep shit.  You want keepsakes, take a fucking picture. it'll last longer, and it wont stink up the barracks."

The others dropped less...disturbing items in-grenade fuses, ammunition, a few captured enemy patches, rank pieces and bits of enemy uniform. 

It took ten minutes, and then the platoon was assembled again, and Lt. Chuan finally made an appearance.

"Sir." Eddie saluted the officer, and returned to his traditional position at the rear of the formation.

"Gentlemen, ladies, Marines..." Pao Chu'an was one of the hand-full of actual Academy-trained officers-a former Loki team-leader, in the Force Recon Brigade.  "...The reason leaves are cancelled, is that some of you have demonstrated certain...habits and eccentricities that may indicate you are a danger to the civilians.  You'll have to re-earn the trust of those civilians before you will be allowed to visit off-base rec areas."  The L.T. paused, letting that sink in, "Means you're all going to go through about six weeks of psychological de-tox before you get leave time, I'm sorry, it's straight from Department Level."

Among the men, only the L.T., Eddie, and the squad leaders knew how close 2nd Platoon of Company C, 1st Force Recon had come to confinement, not on base, but in the stockade, and instead of Psych Detox, how close they had collectively come to 'awaiting trial for war-crimes'.

"Gunny Vanh will be handing out your duty detail assignments and training schedule."  Chu'an added, "Those of you with base-side dependents will have to stay in-barracks during the detox period, and no visitation without an escort-sorry kids, but the doctors want to make sure you don't endanger your kin with your post-traumatic-stress..."

[Cannonshop]

Kowloon, New Saigon Port Structure Alpha, 3081/06/11

A little girl in a black wool dress and her brother, in his boarding school blues, stood at the platform.  "Joshua, they're staring." Amanda Ngo, age thirteen, duchess-in-waiting of Kowloon, fidgeted and sweated in the equatorial sun.

"of course they're staring." Joshua mumbled, holding a position of attention.  "We're on stage."

"not that kind of staring." Amanda said, she was now keenly aware of the disapproving looks.

"You should have thought of that before you dyed your hair bright pink." He mumbled back, "what's with the black wool, anyway?"

"mom's." she muttered.  Up on the podium, Admiral Li was still giving the opening speech.  Port Structure Alpha should have dominated everything-a masterwork of engineering, the carbon-nanotube, endosteel, and myomer structure reached from the equatorial mountain above New Saigon outward, to a geosynchronous "anchor'', the tower was designed to allow ships to dock and load, or unload, directly onto the railway network-a true "Sky Train" that was projected to make shipments of bulk commodities-such as grain, profitable.

The Alpha structure was, put lightly, "a big deal".

"should've kept her hairstyle when you decided to wear her clothes, 'manda." Joshua muttered.

"I just thought of that." Amanda said in reply.

[Cannonshop]

3082.09,19  1500 Hours, "Big Damn Hole Mine", Australia...

"...not sure how the geological conditions occurred, an even less sure why nobody bothered to look on this land before us."  The mine-foreman Grollo Escadire escorted Jesse through the works, "your ranch-land is like a damn storehouse, Mister Parsons."

Jesse listened with one ear, and watched the works and activity with his eyes and the other ear.  "The Commonwealth favoured using Australia for...other activities." he observed, "What's the word on the Labor negotiations?"

"Well...those aren't going so well." the Foreman admitted, "they're organizing a union."

"Really?" Jesse stopped, and turned, "Why would they be doing that?" he asked.

"Agitators, we've caught some guys from the Social Dems passing out lit and stuff..." the Foreman said.

"Could it have something to do with..." he reached into his pocket, and pulled out a small, steel coin, "This?"  He flipped the mine-scrip at the manager, "Or the three company stores I saw coming in this morning?"

"Hey, that's a standard practice-" Escadire said, immediately on the defensive and staring at the young, hardened cowboy who held a majority share in the mine.

"You're paying my employees in phoney money, they're not happy about it, I am not happy about it." Jesse said, "I must look like a prize bumpkin to you, with your school rag and your good german diction-but even I am not stupid enough to think if there are cheques in the book, there is money in the account."  He raised a hand, and a slim woman in a gray business suit seemed to just appear.

"The Ngo Credit people called me on the sat-phone, Grollo." Jesse said, "They called me about some...transfers and attachments and other irregularities in the payroll.  Being as I'm no Accountant, I hired one-Mrs. White?"

the woman cleared her throat, "As the primary lienholders on the Parson ranchstead, Ngo Industries Credit Union has an interest in the financial health of the Parsons Estate-including businesses contracted with Mr and Mrs Parsons-a review of shareholder reports, tax-filings with the Australia and UIW governments, and reciepting, shows that someone in the company has been embezzling a significant portion of the payroll, then plowing the rest into an outside contractor franchised to the site-support, including the minting of 'scrip' and the contraction of debts in violation of the Uniform Currency Act of 3070 and the Open Contracts act of 3075..." she paused, and looked at Jesse.

"Means she's here to look at YOUR books, Grollo." Jesse said, "and if you are thinking of calling in your rowdies or dropping us in a hole?"  he pointed at the sky, "SOMEONE is WATCHING-and unlike God, that someone will deliver justice now, instead of in the Afterlife..."

a pair of SB-27's with the wing and fin-flashes of the second Marine Division blazed overhead, as if on cue.  "Hot, smoky, fragmenty, bloody and painful death-expensive death." Jesse added, "I still have friends in the Marine Corps, and Mrs. White here-she's a Reserve Commodore in the Coast Guard's OCB branch-not paying a contracted, legal wage is a federal offense, comes with stiff sentences.  I'm cooperatin', you maybe oughta consider doing the same."

[Cannonshop]

Navy Yard, Boojum Orbit, Kowloon system, 3085.6.9.0934

Rear Admiral Michael Collins looked outward through the promenade at the dockyards.  Outside, five ships...correct that, Warships  floated in maintenance cradles while teams of Spacers applied burnish-coating to their armoured flanks-the coating was a dull, haze gray that was the Navy Board's choice for a distinguishing background, with the bronze-brown highlights that same board chose to represent Union Naval vessels.

After fifteen years of independence, the Union finally was beginning to have enough of a fleet to make up a single task-force.

"You want one?" he asked his new aide, "When you reach Captain's rank, don't you?"  he added, turning to look at her.

Amanda Ngo's spacer's wings were still buff-shiny on her midshipman's blues.  "Aye aye, sir." she said, "The Zechetinu class is just about stock-ideal for exploration missions, picket duty, and-"

He cut her off, "Gator Freighters." he told her, "Against a real warship, it's a soda-tin armed with popguns, but it has jump-range, and unlike a Mako, it can carry droppers...and it's a cheap design, even with the LF battery systems.  I knew your mum, she was a pain in my ass back in '67."

"I'm not her, sir." Amanda noted.

Michael sighed, and gave a little chuckle, "No, you're not...I can tell you to do something with some expectation that it will, in fact, be done...you know why I asked for you as an aide straight out of Academy, Middie?"

"It's traditional for an Admiral to have at minimum an Ensign, but more commonly a Leutenant or Lt. Commander as his aide, sir, I have no idea why you offered me the job-I haven't even graduated." Amanda replied.

"I have my reasons, Middie.  You're going to be a Planet's Ruler when you get out-Kowloon's ruler...and you already had the course-credits to graduate, I want you to get a better taste of what you're taking on-call it...training." he told her, "Teach you the things that the Pols and Bureaucrats wouldn't."

"It's an honor, sir." she said dutifully.

"Horse shit." Collins said, "If Li were available, she'd be the one taking you under a wing-she ain't, and she ain't goin' t'be, unless someone can invent a cure for alzheimers, or time-travel... anyway-so you get the booby-prize, which is me, and maybe I can teach you something you'll be able to use once you've finished your five and gone back to the civilian world."

"I could stay in." Amanda said, "Joshua could take the Duchy..."

"Josh? Nice kid, your brother, dumb as a post and he idolizes your daddy a little too much, he's barely passing his courses at KAITA, and that's him not being able to get into CMA or the Nagelring...or any other major school in five hundered light years-you're the one they want, and the Navy relies on Kowloon, so you're the one WE want-I hope, because your spare is someone we really do NOT want."  here, he paused, "You know what that means, don't you?"

"Never going to get a Warship." Amanda said, "because I'll never get to Flag Rank in the Navy.  I'll never get to flag rank, because the Navy wants me to back them in Congress and grease rollers at home."

"Bingo. You're with me, so now, you're going to learn what a Navy really runs on.  Tactics and firepower are all well and good, but neither one is worth a dirty snowball in a supernova if you can't support, maintain, or supply it."  He squared his shoulders, "You're going to learn how to run Fleets instead of single ships, Middie...speaking of which, you're handling my appointments.  Who's up for ten?"

Amanda consulted a PADD, "Ten in the A.M. Station time...shows a meeting with the Inarcs Rep, followed by a breakfast on the Nguoc Barrow, where you are to give a speech to the Rotary, There is a forty minute break, and then you're going on Telex with the Congressional Subcommittee..."

[Cannonshop]

Coast Guard Corps Headquarters, Ia Drang Kowloon...

Archduchess Debra MacAulliffe sat in the briefing room with a steaming cup of the local coffee, this meeting was essentially an unofficial part of an official inspection.  Coast Guard Commodore Mai Huyn, Governor Charles Vanh, and Evelyn Mosovich sat at the table with her.

The Subject was currently tagging along behind Admiral Collins more two AU away.

"...still don't see any reason to stifle the girl, Commodoah." Debra said, "Chuck an' Ev'lyn pretty much have things under control heah-"

"I can answer that." Vanh interrupted, "I'm getting old, so is Evelyn.  We've been doing our best to prepare the way for Elizabeth's kids, now the kids are getting close to their majority, and I'm getting close to my retirement-a retirement I am looking forward to with no small amount of anticipation."  He said, adding, "A retirement that may end up getting forced on me, if the Pham wins the primary races-she out-polls me by a LOT, no district, no First Minister, no First Minister, and I lose the Governorship by default."

Deb frowned, "Pham..?" she asked, "I didn't realize your popularity was slipping that badly."

Vanh chuckled, "It ain't-but Dao Pham out-polls me, her popularity's growing in the Youth Culture and on the left-she could probably pick up DuFrayne's social democrats along with some of the 'progressive Republic' people,and she's stronger with the Veterans than I am-more of 'em these days, and my term in the service was...some time ago."  He sighed, "Only so long you can ride status as a hero of the revolution, war hero, and wounded vet.  After a while, the voters start thinking maybe you're due to retire...an' I can't blame them for that...plus, more Urban folks, and I'm a Rancher-the Grange isn't as powerful as it was twenty some odd years past-I figure if the National Party fields Dao Pham, I will probably lose my ass with the Townies entirely, and she may pick up some of the fishing areas too."

"Plus, Charles wanted to retire last election, if you remember." Mosovich interjected.

"Where does a Pham governor fall on national security issues?" Deb asked, "any major changes?"

"She's strong on local, but we've butted heads on specific expenditures." Commodore Huyn commented, "She's opposed to continuing missions outside the system, she'd probably sway Bianh and Corliss, which could change the attitude at State and Defense on the National level-she's also a bit..." the Commoodore paused, "Socialist, on domestic spending.  Buys into Keynesian thinking economically, and she sees some of the current programmes as good places to cut to raise funds to support it."

"lovely." Deb said, "She believe in stable currency, at least, or is she a Credit-spender?"

"Credit-with-limits, she's talking about pushing for looser banking regulations and lower reserves."  Charles said.

"So...she's a tax-and-spend moderate hawk?" Deb asked.

"That's her stated positions in a nutshell, yeah."  Charles said, "It pulls more weight with the townies, than with my people-but we've had a hell of a lot of urban expansion in the last fifteen years-there's more townies now in the Golden Lake area than farmers, and some of her policies are attractive to the dumber farmers out in the countryside.  Especially the subsidies."

Deb pursed her lips, "and the Ngo children-they're not ready to take the duchy-either one?"

Mosovich shook her head, "Joshua's going to make some commander a fine, fighting 'mechwarrior, and he's got some talent leading small units, but he's got less common sense than my cat on anything that doesn't involve a neurohelmet and firepower.  The boy has no strategic sense at all above small unit combat training, and if it weren't for his BEING a damned talented 'mechwarrior trainee, he'd be out of the academy yesterday.  Collins and Huyn think the daughter's got some promise in leadership, but that could just be hope talkin',  I pulled some strings and got her chopped to the Admiral's staff as an aide for her last two years in the Academy-I called it 'work study'-it's a dirty thing to do to a bright kid, but even if Chuck holds things together for the coming term and doesn't have to fight Dao Pham in the polls this time, we'll only have a bare handfull of years to get the girl ready to assume her real responsibilities-hopefully she won't pick up any of those crazy ideas or social theories."

[Cannonshop]

[redacted] Star System, FWL sector, Federation of Skye, 3087.06.11...

The UIS Opportunity rippled into being at the heart of task group 1/1.  This was the midpoint of the mission-a "Show the Flag" operation designed to maintain the fragile detente between Robert Steiner's Lyran Alliance, and the Free Worlds League.  The legal cover, of course, was resupply for the Marine Expeditionary Forces currently advising and training the locals.

Oddly enough, while the Expeditionary Forces were being paid for by the Free Worlds, so far the Lyrans had been, if not supportive, at least reluctant to interfere-at least, thus far.

Amanda Ngo's term as Michael Collins' aide was, for the time being, in the past-the Admiral had reluctantly been forced by regulations to permit her one "Sea Tour", and she'd gotten herself assigned to the Opportunity, as the assistant Weapons officer.

"Board is green, sensors show no hostile IFF in the area, just merchies,and us." she reported.

Captain Chie Ku'han Metzelberger nodded, "excellent, Leutenant.  Orders to all vessels in the task-force,  deploy Combat Air Patrols at condition Purple, sweep for non-civilain traffic, we're locking down the system while the trash-haulers recharge.  Marines will conduct boarding and safety inspections of all inbound and outbound vessels, screen wanted posters when you look over the crews-we have a tip that there are some criminal elements using this system as a transit-point between the Leaguers and the Alliance.  Last incident on record pushed Bobby and Tommy to the edge of declared war, we don't have any use for that, Her Grace the Archduchess has directed all forces working in support of the Security Contract to step up activity to dis-encourage the movement of possible insurgents or arms traffickers in the zone."

"Will there be authorized shore-leave, then ma'am?" Lt. Daria Rockwell, the assistant Nav officer, asked.

"Negative.  the local system forces just finished a training exercise with Force Recon, apparently some officials got embarassed and there's a Marine Brigade down there re-teaching their local defenders how to defend-we're not supposed to interfere or confuse the poor bastards."

[Cannonshop]

The Landsgraffe Club, Howick, UIW, 3087.06.11.2100

Exclusive clubs are often sites of dissidence in free societies-particularly when their membership may be old, and may have once had influence, but where it is no longer the case, or where it is waning.

Usually, such opposition is loyal to the concept of the nation, if not its specific regime.  Sometimes, however, they are not.

Baron Corvin Lackweel Hardin, the end of a long line of 'mechwarrior nobility, for instance...


"...and then, that bloody sargeant told me, 'I don't care who you are'." he spat, "This sort of mistreatment of their betters NEVER happened in the days of the Lyran Commonwealth out here, that fucking peasant had the audacity to...to..." he fumed.

"So, that's why your operator's license is suspended then?" chuckled Jakob Mullen, a former Atlas pilot, "Or was it because you really DID bolo on the firing range?"

Corvin glared, "It shouldn't matter, Mullen! I am a 'mechwarrior, from a long line of Nobility, that SHOULD count for something!"

"You could always turn up for a re-shoot."  Mullen noted drily, "Of course you'd have to be sober to pass... but you're right, of course, the prerogatives of the Noble classes WERE better protected by the Lyran Commonwealth's administration, than they are in this dirty and somewhat distorted little republic we're living in."

A throat cleared just to the right of the fuming Corvin.  He looked up, and his face turned to a patrician sneer.  "Who let the raggage in?" he asked.

"Five years' service, Baron."  Levi Maus wasn't a big man, barely average height, and slim, with a hawk-like nose over a small chin and bracketed by narrow-set, green eyes.  The Army Dress-Browns had a black "MP" stencil on each arm.  "Now, Baron, if you might put your cup down, you still have to report to drill."

"Who sent you-Sargeant?" Mullen asked idly.

"That'd be none of the retired captain's business, sir, but it oughta be enough to know that there are...pedigreed...people in the service who don't like the idea of Corvin here washing out and makin' them look bad, sir-I've been sent to collect him, sober him up, and make sure he's in condition to pass the re-shoot."

[Cannonshop]

MacAulliffe Estate, Arluna, 3082.01.03.0700...

"Goin' Somewheah?" Archduchess Debra MacAulliffe asked.   Her Son, Simeon David MacAulliffe almost jumped from his skin before turning to see her in the doorway of his bedroom.  His hands dropped the clothing he was stuffing into a ditty-bag.  

The  son of the Archduchess turned to face his mother.  "Aff." he said, "I want to enlist in the Touman, I want to be like-"

Deb seemed to cross the room in less than the blink of an eye, and suddenly, Adrian was off of his feet.  "Like your father?" she asked.  Her eyes were iced flints, and her grip was an iron, baba-yaga's grip, holding him off the floor.  "What makes you think, boy, that you are ready to even ask to join the Clanners?"

She dropped her son on to his bed, "You might have Brian Pryde as a sperm-donor, but you are MY son.  If he wanted you, he would have taken you already."

Simeon stood up, "I want to go." he told her, "I want to...need to know WHY."

"Why? you mean, why you only see him rarely, or why he can not afford to acknowledge you publicly?" she asked, her tone tight and neutral, "Trueborns are the Nobles of the Clans, Adrian-they can't afford, due to their breeding program, to acknowledge half-caste children from barbarian backgrounds-especially from relationships that are effectively forbidden in that culture." she paused, "Brian can not afford you." she finally said, "Not the way you want him to, and the Clans don't take recruits right off the street-if you want in, there is only one way you can do it-and that's the same way any dirt-farmer's kid does it, you either get your ass beat by them in battle and taken Abtakha, or you win a transfer through the Liason programme-either way, a twelve year old unblooded boy isn't going to just get in, regardless of who sired him, or under what conditions."

[Cannonshop]

Views of the Next Generation, 3088

Amanda Ngo's Quarters, UIS Opportunity

The quarters layout is changed from the ship's origin, and Junior Officers bunk, not in staterooms, but in 3x2x6 meter common rooms, on narrow triple-deck bunks that grant a mere 1/2 cubic meter more space than Enlisted Rates recieve.  The three bunks run along the outboard wall, with a narrow shelf/desk/sink counter opposite, which includes a small refrigerator, hot-plate, coffee pot, and toilet/shower/sink installation.  Six personnel share this space, sleeping in shifts.

Amanda's locker contains a framed holo of her mother, speaking before the Kowloon Assembly in 3056-some years before her own birth.  There are wallet-sized images of her brother Joshua (in his graduation uniform, and one showing him mid-way through his first Marine deployment), two uniforms (Dress and walking blues), two pairs of shoes, and a maintenance kit for her day-to-day shipwear suit.  A small book-like "Awards box" contains her scant service awards-most earned in the last year and a half.  There is a portable computer, bigger than a PADD and capable of a host of functions beyond the omnipresent personal data devices carried by multitudes, and her 'personal goods' allotment-nearly a cubic meter of books ranging from sociology and economics, to advanced physics and KF field theory.  These have twodee photos sitting as bookmarks-pictures of shipmates and friends she has made since entering UIW Naval service, letters and post-cards as well.

Joshua Ngo's Quarters with the 1st BDE, 2nd Marine Division...

A Marine 2nd Lt. in the Battlemech Corps, Joshua's quarters is a three-man room, shared with another 2LT and a 1st Lt from his Company.  Pictures of naked women dominate his roommate's half, and some have migrated to his side as well.  There is a meter-cubed stereo system by Duallin Envirosonics, loaded with a host of different musical and holographic entertainments, and three large lockers.  Each locker contains the field-issue plus three Dress Uniforms-all identical.  Joshua's personal space is carefully crammed into the 1.5x1x.5 Meter "Personal goods" allotment of an active duty Marine officer.  It barely clears the regulation 45 kilos that a deployable and unmarried officer is permitted.
Most of it, is the sort of things one might expect from a nineteen or twenty year old in regular service- Porn, musical and/or electronic entertainments, magazines, pictures and letters from family and friends... an item he keeps as a personal treasure, are the undergarments of a girl he met after finishing MOS training at Camp Puller.  The story behind those undergarments has earned him the callsign "Milfmaster", a callsign emblazoned on his Neurohelmet.


Carlos Ortega's place...
The only son of Miranda Ortega and...someone.  Carlos lives in a rustic cabin in the high-country side of the Everglades Continent, a teen himself, he is home-schooled and barely made it to the Draft Office on-time.  The bed is small, simple, and made of canvass stretched across poles on one side of the ten by eight room.  A writing desk built into the wall, and dominated by an oil-fired lamp, sits with a PADD on it.  a rank of weapons-from flint-lock muzzle loader to shotgun, to a small, military grade laser, have been hung up on the far wall with great care.  These are working weapons, and the laser itself has been wired in with an additional control to allow it's use as a brush-cutter, one-man felling saw, fire-lighter, drill, and slicer.  Carlos has already signed the delayed-enlistment contract that will take him from the rustic home-the only home he has ever known, out into the wider universe.  He has a picture of his mother, and a picture of grandparents he never knew, just over the desk, looking down at him when he studies.

Jessica Parsons , Australia...

The oldest daughter of mining and cattle magnate Jesse Parsons decorates her bedroom with images of popular musicians, celebrities, and the sort of clap-trap that one might associate with the oldest child of parents whom were still children themselves not long ago.  The bookshelf is interesting here-books on chemistry, biology, and basic physical sciences stand next to compilations of tales of dashing and daring explorers, vicious horrors, and the odd, occasional, classical romance.  she has a collection of insects-pinned and named by their taxonomic designations, on her wall.  Interestingly enough, she caught most of them herself.  At just-over sixteen, Jessica is in a year of transitions-she has completed her basic year-twelve work early for school, and has applications to the two (small) universities in the UIW that have accreditation outside the national borders.