2947-11-05 – Tales from the Service: A Mercenary’s Trade

This will be the final section of Jacob Borisov’s account of his activities groundside at Adimari Valis. Taking another contract from the planetary governor even after the last (Tales from the Service: A Mercenary’s Milk-Run) descended into mercenary fratricide, Jacob led the groundside contingent of the Taavi Bancroft mercenaries in a joint operation with Cassandra’s Hoplites, the sister unit which had been worsted in its mistaken attack on Jacob’s convoy previously.

Governor Yamaguchi’s ruse was part of a long-running attempt to convince the outlaw treasure-hunting community on Adimari Valis that his administration was preparing to move the fruits of the Xenarch digs off-planet to keep the valuable artifacts out of Incarnation hands. With all attention focused on the few roads between the main dig-site and the spaceport, the governor’s plan was to clear and hold a remote valley which, though supposedly empty, had apparently yielded up a few genuine finds to the planet’s thriving black market for Xenarch relics.

The site proved better defended than they expected – but the governor’s generous contract had plenty of margin for Jacob to anticipate such surprises.

Jacob could not include what his team found at the site in this message due to a nine-week confidentiality clause in the contract. He promised to send more after that expired. Even without that part of the conclusion, his account is an interesting look into the unglamorous work of ground-assault troopers. He was even able to include the tactical network replay, albeit with identifiable information scrubbed; for those of you with the means and interest to view this datastream, it will be available for retrieval on the Cosmic Background datasphere hub.


“Bancroft actual, we are in position.” The deceptively soft voice of Lori Cassandra startled Jacob out of the intense concentration with which he fixed the target area below his perch. “What’s your situation?”

“In position.” Jacob switched off his magnification meta-lens and called up his helmet’s tactical display. The blue pips marking the position of Cassandra’s Hoplites clustered on the far side of the narrow fissure barely worthy of the word “valley”, while his own somewhat more mobile troopers’ green pips glowed along a wide arc of ridgeline around him.

According to every sensor and visual sweep of the nameless little valley, the valley was empty save for the overgrown tangle of local tree-analogues which covered its floor. Unlike the rocky uplands, valleys and lowlands on Adimari Valis invariably teemed with native wildlife, with the deeper basins the most fertile. Though narrow, the target area was deep enough to host an impressive garden of blue-green and florid pink flora which could swallow an entire battalion of enemy combatants.

Of course, the local outlaw cooperatives which had wrested artifacts from the valley didn’t have a battallion of troops of any caliber, and hopefully Yamaguchi’s ruse had convinced them to move most of their fighting force closer to the city in hopes of easy pickings from a lightly-defended transport crawler. If things went according to plan, they wouldn’t expect the better part of two veteran mercenary companies to descend on their secret treasure digs so far from their logistics base in the spaceport.

A ninety-second timer appeared in Jacob’s helmet, and he knew it had appeared similarly in the visors of all his mercenaries. “Prepare for operation start.” This time, Lori’s voice was broadcast to every mercenary in the area. She was a ground-pounder by preference and experience, and Jacob, given his more generalist skills, had left her in overall command, even though her force was numerically smaller than his. Even after the shameful friendly-fire shootout two weeks prior, he trusted her to sell the lives of his toughs dearly, if she had to sell them at all. “You know the op, and you know your business. Let’s get this done without any mistakes.”

Jacob smiled in the glow of his helmet tactical map. Lori’s curt pre-battle pep talk struck him as a very military formality, far out of step with how he usually handled his force. Doubtless several of his troopers were grumbling into their helmet visors, comm receivers safely switched off.

“Boss, that’s a lot of biomass down there.” Felix’s voice found Jacob’s ears courtesy of a line-of-sight private circuit. “Bastard governor’s done us raw before. What do you think the chances are this is another double-deal?”

Jacob didn’t trust the governor either. The smug, superior Yamaguchi had more in mind than checking on the source of a few crusty Xenarch trinkets hauled in by grubby prospectors. Fortunately, so did the Bancroft mercenaries. “Do it by the numbers, Felix. Let Captain Cassandra worry about the big picture.”

“Got it, boss.”

The timer ticked down toward zero. “Five seconds.” Lori began the countdown, and Jacob tensed in his heavy suit. “Four. Three.” Jacob switched his armored combat suit out of low-power mode, and heard servos whine to life all around him. “Two. One.” Jacob stood from his low-profile crouch and disengaged the command weapons-lock on his troopers’ heavy armaments, then switched off the safety on his own suit’s weaponry. “Bancroft, go.”

Jacob jumped, the suit’s powered joints turning a very normal human motion into a titan’s thirty-meter leap. Halfway up, he switched on the suit’s gravitic thrusters to extend his arc. On the tactical map, he the whole line of green pips arc off the ridgeline almost simultaneously, each hurtling down toward a pre-selected landing point in the valley. This easy near-flight, one of the advantages of fielding comparably light trooper hardware, was something he knew the Hoplites on the opposite ridge would be watching with envy. Their heavier, better-armed suits were slower, and could barely clear treetops even with their gravitics.

Jacob passed through the treetops and landed among the Adimarian foliage with a heavy crash, the suit’s servos and gravitic thrusters turning a ground-shaking impact into a mere sharp jolt in his knees. Visibility in the forested valley was poor, but already he could see signs of human presence – a narrow but arrow-straight path had been carved through the underbrush wide enough for small vehicles to travel in complete concealment from the air. The tactical display updated to include this avenue and several other features identified by the other Bancroft troopers below the trees.

As soon as the map had collected everything it could from his location, Jacob picked a new location just out of sight along the line of the road, and jumped again, smashing up through the flabby growths which passed for leaves on Adimari Valis and arcing over the treetops. Several of his other troopers did the same in their sectors, while others decided to make progress on the ground. The skirmish line swept down the valley diagonally toward the Hoplites, hoping to either find and fix the enemy’s position or chase them right into the sights of Captain Cassandra’s heavy troopers.

“Contact.” Jahoda’s barking into the comm circuit accompanied an update on the map; Jacob noted a new arc of hashed red uncertainty in front of the trooper. “Looks like a patrol. Four, maybe five of them.”

In the distance to his left, Jacob heard the rattling buzz of automatic railgun fire, and the more sporadic bark of hunting rifles as the outlaws returned fire. He knew Jahoda wouldn’t get pinned down there; he would get the patrol fleeing in the right direction, then keep moving.

As Jacob crashed down again into the trees and found himself almost standing on the narrow road, markers appeared and disappeared all along his ragged skirmish line as his troopers encountered small knots of outlaws and sent them flying back down the valley. Perhaps they would concentrate at a strong-point, or perhaps they would keep retreating until they entered the Hoplites’ kill-zone. Things were going according to plan, and that made him suspicious.

Jacob decided to continue on the ground, following the treasure-hunters' road to see where it went. All around him, the alien forest echoed with the sounds of sporadic skirmishes between Bancroft toughs and lightly-armed patrols of scavengers.

In the heart of the valley, the road below Jacob’s feet ran into a heavy armor-alloy gate burrowed into the side of a blocky, tree-covered hummock. The gate was barely big enough for three troopers to walk through abreast, but the moment it came into view, the value of whatever lay beyond was proved by the rattle and clatter of automatic railshot from at least two hidden guns tearing through the foliage and glancing off his suit.

Jacob jumped up and used his gravitics to arc to one side. “I’ve got some sort of bunker.” The burrowed structure had already been highlighted on the map. Whatever its purpose, it was ingeniously concealed; the governor’s survey flights had seen no sign of such elaborate installations.

A bunker and several emplaced railguns wouldn’t be going anywhere, of course. He hurried to dress the skirmish line and proceeded forward, noting the growing number of harried scavengers driven ahead of the toughs. There were more of the enemy than intelligence had suggested, but they were fortunately lightly armed and disorganized. With any luck, they’d caught the enemy with their pants down enough that most of the force was outside their fortified hideout.

“Bancroft actual, be advised, unknown air assets inbound.”

As soon as Lori had finished her alert, Jacob began to hear the distant-thunder rumble of high velocity gravitic drives roaring through the atmosphere. “The governor failed to mention that.” Even one or two close-support attack ships could pin down the troopers with ease. Local outlaws weren’t supposed to have access to anything like that, according to Yamaguchi’s intelligence. So far from the spaceport, the two mercenary companies were at the mercy of whatever air power the treasure-hunting gangs had at their disposal.

Or rather, Jacob knew, they would be at the mercy of the local gangs, if he had stuck to the governor’s plan. The margins on the job were so ridiculously generous that he’d decided to send two of his strike squadron’s fastest interceptors down from orbit. They had been loitering into the shadow of a nearby mountain range since his troopers had started their overland march to the target area. “All Bancroft units, break contact and take cover.” Jacob switched his suit’s comm circuit to the long-range broadcast option afforded by the command operations module on his back, then opened the channel. “Quail, you are go for air sweep.”

“Copy, Bancroft Actual.” Sela “Quail” Huffman replied immediately, a touch of anticipation in her voice. “Sit tight, boss.”

Jacob watched a trio of fast-moving enemy aircraft roar over the valley. One of them plastered the locations of two of his troopers with a heavy autocannon while the other two launched salvos of impressive but less devastating rockets. The valley quaked and bits of trees and undergrowth hurtled through the air, falling back with a sound not much like that of rain. Jacob hugged the ground and grinned into his helmet, knowing that the enemy pilots would not have time for a second pass.

Sure enough, two bright-green streaks lanced across the tactical map seconds later, and the rumble of gravitic drives rose into the banshee-scream of craft pushed beyond their limits as the enemy ships tried to evade the pair of Bancroft interceptors. It was no use, of course; one of them exploded immediately, and the other two, weaving tangled patterns of contrails in the air, prolonged their lives for a few minutes longer against the pair of high-performance strike craft.

“Air assets handled.” Jacob sent on the command circuit, unable to keep the tone of triumph out of his voice.

“Aren’t you full of surprises today, Bancroft Actual.” Lori Cassandra’s grin was equally audible. “Proceed with the operation.”

Jacob stood and sent the all-clear, and his troopers moved forward once again.

2947-10-29 – Tales from the Service: A Mercenary’s Wrath 

Last week in this space, we left Jacob Borisov and his groundside detachment from the mercenary carrier Taavi Bancroft (in system on contract with one of the many private interests in protecting the planet’s xenoarchaeological heritage from the Incarnation) at the end of yet another sharp engagement in what was supposed to be a milk-run contract on Adimari Valis (Tales from the Service: A Mercenary’s Milk-Run). Tasked to protect a heavy-transport crawler as it trundled through the mountain passes between the planet’s remarkable Xenarch ruins site and the spaceport capitol, he likely wished that he had price-gouged the planetary governor more than he actually had. 

In this later part of his account, which was accompanied by microcamera footage, the mercenary commander has already completed the contract – but only after learning that a simple protection contract had become something entirely different. The final attack on the transport crawler was nothing like the opportunist ambush described here last week – it was professionals against professionals. Friends against friends. It was, as it turned out, a mercenary's worst nightmare - fratricide. 


Jacob shoved past the governor’s secretary and lone office guard and all but kicked open the office’s imitation oak door. The guard and secretary, stunned by his arrival, reached for weapons, but the three mercenaries in full battle harness squeezing into the outer chamber behind their commander persuaded them to allow this unscheduled appointment to intrude on Governor Yamaguchi’s calendar. 

Jacob stomped into the spacious governor’s office to find Yamaguchi sitting placidly behind his desk. The little man barely looked up at the intrusion. “Mr. Borisov, welcome back. Have a seat.” 

Jacob approached the desk and tossed a handful of hard-synth wafers in front of the governor. “You knew about this.” He didn’t sit down. Sitting down would be admitting defeat. 

Yamaguchi glanced up only briefly, then picked up one of the wafers, turning it over in his hand. Each was slightly curved, and bore a unit insignia on the convex side. Several were burn-scarred or stained with unmentionable things which even the deepest clean-cycle had failed to expunge. “I’m sorry, I don’t follow.” 

Jacob growled. If he had to embed each of the little insignias in his employer’s head, he would make the man admit what he had contracted the Bancroft outfit to do. “Those are the Hoplites’ patches, dammit.” Cassandra’s Hoplites, a ground-force mercenary outfit which shared several investors with Jacob’s own mercenary company, had been one of the other outfits rotated through the long-term Vinteri defense job. Their commander, Lori Cassandra, was a personal friend. “They’re the damned dig-site security force. Why in all hells would the dig-site security force hit us halfway back to the city on your little escort job?” 

Yamaguchi set down the patch face-up, the shield, twin spears, and Greek omega glyph only too visible. “Perhaps you mean, why would persons equipped with dig-site security company hardware hit you? There have been thefts at the site recently. Perhaps-” 

“Liar. I’ve already spoken with Captain Cassandra.” Jacob placed his hands on the desk and leaned forward. “You know what the penalty for administrative corruption is on my home-world, governor?” 

Yamaguchi looked at the hands on his desk calmlyIt was unlikely he knew about the iron brutality of Schovjsa’s penal code. “We are not on your home-world. Besides, you have already been paid, and the contract was fairly struck. I do not see-” 

“I lost one man and two are clinging to life in geltanks. The Hoplites lost seven, including two who used to be on my crew. Explain yourself immediately.” 

“Or you’ll what?” 

Jacob glanced above the governor’s head to the cityscape visible behind the desk. “Or I throw you through that window and then go have a chat with the other mercenary outfits guarding your worthless little planet, on the ground and in the sky. I think maybe half will stay, if your successor promises them double.” 

The governor stared up silently for several seconds. Both knew the threat was far from idle – Mercenary companies tended to think of themselves as all fighting on the same side, and when a client earned a reputation for pitting one company against another, most outfits would avoid them. As for a vigilante defenestration, Jacob might not be able to carry out the threat alone, but with the help of the three toughs glowering at Yanaguchi’s secretary and guard, he certainly could. 

With a sigh, the governor looked down. “Perhaps you are right. A bit of an... explanation is owed.” 

“Talk.” Jacob straightened and folded his arms. 

“The crawler and its cargo were perhaps less secret than you were led to believe. It was... meant to draw out some of the criminal element who has been causing the digs so much trouble.” 

“The treasure hunters. The first several attacks were that sort of rabble.” 

“And all attacks would have been, except that the Hoplites learned the rumor which I allowed to circulate in the underground. That the crawler was full of Xenarch treasures being smuggled off-world by a corrupt dig official. They asked CAX, but they were not aware of this effort... The Hoplites went into action.” 

“Right into our trigger-happy line of fire.” 

Yamaguchi nodded. “In retrospect, perhaps they should have been notified, but I did not wish them to spoil the ruse.” 

“Eight good merc troopers died for this idiocy, governor.” Jacob leveled a finger at the administrator, still not sure whether he was going to throw the man out the window. “And what did you get for it, thirty fewer treasure-pickers?” 

The governor nodded. “Would you like to learn why such a ruse was executed, Mr. Borisov?” 

Jacob scowled. “It had damned well better be good.” 

Yamaguchi held up a slate, contract terms already visible on its surface. “Good or no, I think you will find it pays well.” 

Jacob snatched the device and skimmed its contents. The number of zeroes on the contract’s full payout would have made his eyes bug out, if he hadn’t been good at hiding his surprise. Of course, that price tag came with an ambitious plan of operations. 

“Let me know by tomorrow if you accept.” Yamaguchi gave a bored, dismissive wave, and returned to his forms. 

Jacob growled under his breath. They both knew he would accept – the payout was simply too high to do otherwise. 

2947-10-17 – Tales from the Service: The View From Headquarters Part 2 

Maribel never looked so good in a viewpanel. After several weeks in Berkant, the surviving ships (and a few shattered hulks pulled through Himura drive transition by fleet tugs) of the Saint-Lô squadron finally limped back to Maribel for repair and refit. 

At the recommendation of Dr. Hirsch of the Maribel Naval Intelligence laboratory, I’ve set up another conversation with him and Col. Durand of Admiral Zahariev’s staff to discuss what we know about the Incarnation so many months into the conflict. As before, the Navy thinks an informed public – especially nonmilitary spacer community – is important to winning the war at minimum cost. 

It’s interesting to note that during the last interview with these persons (Tales from the Service: The View From Headquarters), we did not know that the Incarnation was a long-isolated counterhuman faction. The Benedict Dispatch had not yet been circulated. 

The four persons involved in this interview are as follows. Unlike the prior interview, this one was arranged in haste and conducted remotely via full-capture transmission; neither participant boarded Saint-Lô to speak with us in person. 

D.L.C. - Duncan Chaudhri is a junior editor and wartime head field reporter for Cosmic Background. 

N.T.B. Nojus Brand is a long-time explorer, datasphere personality, and wartime field reporter for Cosmic Background. 

C.S.D. - Colonel Carolina Durand is the Naval Intelligence attaché to Admiral Zahariev 

H.G.H. - Dr. Hartwin Hirsch is a Naval Intelligence technological research analyst at Maribel Naval Laboratory. 

 

[D.L.C.] Thank you for talking with us again, Colonel. I know how busy you have been lately. And Doctor, thank you as well. 

[H.G.H.] Any time, Mr. Chaudhri. Your studio’s coverage has been most interesting to watch. In particular, Sovanna Rostami’s vidcast programming has been a hit among my lab technicians. 

[C.S.D.] I meant to set up another of these a month after the first one, actually, but what with the fallout of the Benedict Dispatch and other matters, it’s been hard to find the time. 

[N.T.B.] I can imagine. 

[D.L.C.] Let’s start there. If you can say, when did the information that became the Benedict Dispatch fall into Naval Intelligence’s hands? It seemed to be pretty comprehensive, not to mention sudden. 

[C.S.D.] We had reports early on – mainly from the squadrons on the Sagittarius Frontier – that captured enemy launch pilots were human in appearance and genetics. These personnel were far from cooperative, and it was suspected that they were captured Confederated Worlds spacers, technologically brainwashed and sent back against us. Given the number of well-trained Naval Survey Auxiliary pilots we’d lost out there early on, that seemed the most obvious conclusion. Later, when three of these prisoners became cooperative, the truth came out. That was happening around the same time we last spoke. 

[H.G.H.] The implants Incarnation personnel are fitted with render them immune to all forms of interrogation, and probably to torture as well, though I’m not aware of anyone actually torturing anyone to prove that. In late June, a clever computer systems officer aboard Arrowhawk figured out how to disable most functions of the implant without appreciably harming the prisoner, and only after that circulated did we start learning anything useful. 

[D.L.C.] ArrowhawkCaptain Bosch’s ship? 

[C.S.D.] Captain Bosch’s squadron twice skirmished with Tyrant cruisers- 

[H.G.H.] Alpha-type. 

[C.S.D.] Alpha-type cruisers – in early July, and though these battles were quite inconclusive, they managed to damage and capture three Coronach strike interceptors in the process. One of the captured pilots, Source Dalila, has gone on to become one of our best information sources, almost as good as Gabriel. Dalila was probably uncertain about the Incarnation’s goals to begin with, but with those implants, proper dissent in their ranks is all but impossible. 

[N.T.B.] Surely the information a strike pilot can offer is limited. Since no Tyrant has been- 

[H.G.H.] Alpha-type. 

[N.T.B.] Since no Tyrant has been disabled in action and boarded, none of your assets are senior officers, are they? 

[C.S.D.] Correct, though they are in a similar situation with us. Most of the missing personnel they might have taken prisoner to my knowledge are strike pilots and crews, and most of those are mercenaries. 

[N.T.B.] Hell, the idea of getting grabbed by a bunch of fanatic counterhumans... What do they do to our spacers? 

[H.G.H.] We don’t know, but we have speculated, and none of the speculation is pleasant. Forcible implantation is probable. 

[D.L.C.] Sadly, I suspect there’s little we can do for them, short of winning. And on that note, you two know about the front-row seats Nojus and I got at Berkant. What did Naval Intelligence learn from that fiasco? 

[C.S.D.] We learned a good deal, though I’m sorry to say the cost was high. Hartwin, why don’t you start with what we learned about their ships. 

[H.G.H.] At Berkant, we saw them use their Alpha-type cruisers in a way that explains most of their odd design features. The odd configuration of their screening projectors, heavy armor, and focus on energy weaponry did not make much sense to us when the Incarnation was just the alien Sagittarians and it all made even less sense when we learned that they were Terran stock. Now we know the purpose of these decisions. 

[N.T.B.] They were designed to hunt in packs. 

[H.G.H.] Precisely. In rigid formations, those projectors result in overlapping coverage for the entire group. The power drain on the screens is distributed, making the formation far more resilient than an equivalent Navy squadron. They also have devised guidance systems capable of evasive action without breaking this formation. 

[C.S.D.] We’re working on a few possible weaknesses of this tactic. Hopefully the next time they group that many ships in one place, we’ll be the ones bringing the surprise. 

[D.L.C.] Captain Liao thinks Berkant was bait. Do you agree? 

[C.S.D.] Absolutely. They wanted to test our capabilities in a proper engagement. They didn’t get away unscathed, and most estimates indicate that they don’t have enough ships to break the Fifth Fleet even if every battle goes that badly, but I doubt they have a very high opinion of Navy forces after Berkant. 

[N.T.B.] What about their connection to the Ladeonists? Has Naval Intelligence figured this out yet? 

[C.S.D.] The Ladeonists and the Incarnation have several points of ideological agreement, to the degree that we suspect the Incarnation is an offshoot of the same late Terran Sphere movement that produced Ladeonism during the period of increased cultural interactions between Terran colonies and the Rattanai Imperium. They’re natural allies, though if I were a Ladeonist I’d be worried; if they integrate with the Incarnation, this war might finally be the end of their movement. 

[H.G.H.] We’re still working on estimating their breakaway date with genetic data, but we’ll need more prisoners before we have anything final. 

[N.T.B.] Do you think the Ladeonist rising on the other peripheries of the Reach is coordinated? Last we talked Dr. Hirsh didn’t think so. 

[C.S.D.] At this point, most analysis suggests the risings are not only related, they might be supported by the Incarnation. For example, the sophistication of the bomb used in Yaxkin City not too long ago is beyond most Ladeonist undergrounds, and Planet at Centauri is among the most Ladeonist-hostile planets in the Reach. 

[D.L.C.] I haven’t heard much about that on the datasphere since the first few days. What was it about? 

[C.S.D.] I can’t say too much more about it than that the bombing seems to have failed; its probable target was not harmed. 

[D.L.C.] There have been incidents on several other Core Worlds and colonies as well. Every time there’s an accident or a catastrophe, someone associates it with the Ladeonist risings. 

[C.S.D.] Most of the time, they’re right. As of this morning, Naval Intelligence has recorded more than five thousand instances of starship or industrial sabotage, two thousand attempted terrorist incidents, of which more than a hundred were at least somewhat successful. Most of it is low-level stuff, but concerningly less than half of that is taking place in systems with notably high Ladeonist sympathies. So far, the war effort isn’t being too badly affected – those numbers are high, but they average to less than eight incidents of any kind per star system. 

[N.T.B.] Is it higher on the Frontier? 

[C.S.D.] The Ladeonists hadn’t made much progress penetrating the Meriwether or Nye Norge regions prior to the conflict. So far, the Frontier is under-represented in those numbers, but the longer this goes on, the more likely that will change. 

[H.G.H.] Your publication has released several stories of counterhuman saboteurs and agents targeting mercenary ships, but we don’t classify those as Ladeonist attacks. Given the techological sophistication obvious in such incidents, the culprits are almost certainly Incarnation agents. 

[D.L.C.] Accounts I've borrowed from Source Gabriel mention things called Immortals and Harmonizers. Do we know what those are? 

[H.G.H.] We have some idea. Elite, accomplished Incarnation personnel seem to occasionally be rewarded with more capable implant hardware; when Gabriel refers to an Immortal, it’s probably a term of respect for those who have earned the highest-quality installations. 

[C.S.D.] As for Harmonizers, we have only speculation. Our analysis suggests these are a sort of secret military police, whose agents are usually Immortals with the best hardware. He doesn’t know much about them, though; they’re widely feared but almost never seen. 

[N.T.B.] Even with all the technological chains on their minds, Nate needs a secret police to watch its military spacers? 

[H.G.H.] It does seem excessively paranoid, given what we know about their implant technology. 

[C.S.D.] I figure it’s simple; if you live all your life with those chips in your brain, you probably figure out ways to work around them in little ways if you really want to. To be fair, I suspect most of them would be true believers in their cause anyway, implants or no implants. 

[N.T.B.] They’re still mostly human, and humanity finds a way. 

[C.S.D.] Exactly that. 

[N.T.B.] What have we learned about their culture outside of military circles? 

[C.S.D.] Not much. All of our captured prisoners were brought up on agrarian colony worlds except for Source Dalila, but there’s no way they’re all farmers. Someone built their ships. I’d guess they have some sort of caste system and some castes are immune to military recruitment, but that’s my personal guess. We really don’t know. 

[H.G.H.] Source Dalila is an interesting case; apparently distantly related to important figures in their ruling class. Unfortunately, she was still aboard Arrowhawk last week when the relay chain across the Gap was cut, and Bosch’s people weren’t getting much out of her on this line of questioning before that. 

[N.T.B.] Is there any hope for the forces on that side? 

[C.S.D.] Sadly, I don’t know what will become of them. We’ll patch the Hypercomm relay chain, of course, but it will take weeks. Admiral Zahariev is continuing to send supplies, but that will stop the moment a resupply hauler fails to return. After that... 

[D.L.C.] They’re on their own. 

[C.S.D.] Exactly so. 

[H.G.H.] Sorry to cut this short, but I’m being called down to Lab 3. They say it’s an emergency. 

[D.L.C.] That’s all right, Dr. Hirsch. Thanks again for talking with us. And you too, Colonel Durand. 

[C.S.D.] Thanks for making space for us on your text feed, Mr. Chaudhri. Hopefully we’ll do this again sooner than three months from now. And Mr. Brand... 

[N.T.B.] Eh? 

[C.S.D.] Thank you for asking the hard questions. Half the other media outlets I talk to tie themselves in knots trying to set up optimistic answers. 

[N.T.B.] Oh, uh... It’s no trouble, Colonel. 

2947-10-08 – Tales from the Service: A Mercenary's Way

With this week’s loss of contact with the fleet’s forward outposts and scouting forces on the Sagittarius Frontier, I fear that Captain Samuel Bosch and his light squadron – deployed to that area several months ago – may be beyond the Navy’s ability to help. Last we heard on this side of the Gap, a string of Tyrant squadron raids on the poorly-defended and partially constructed outpost at Sagittarius Gate had been beaten back with heavy losses, and all the Navy forces in the region were being recalled to that system.

My sources indicate that the lack of contact is not due to the destruction of the Navy’s presence at Sagittarius Gate, but instead a raid on the chain of specially-designed Hypercast relays which connect the far side of the Gap with the rest of the Reach. By the time the Navy repairs the relays, however, I fear Sagittarius Gate – far too distant to be reinforced effectively – will have fallen.

Bosch’s ships are of course only one of the formations deployed to that region to protect the few civilian interests which set themselves up in Sagittarius before hostilities began. Many lives will be lost there – such is war, to be sure, but I do hope this audience keeps the officers and crews of those ships in their prayers in the coming weeks. The Navy’s light patrol and scout squadrons have a reputation for resourcefulness and pluck, but it will take more than that to withstand what is undoubtedly descending on them now.

This week’s entry comes to us from a person who has appeared in this space before – Jacob Borisov, captain of the mercenary carrier Taavi Bancroft. His command has, as with most mercenary companies in good standing with the Confederated Navy, relocated to the Coreward Frontier, chasing the safe paycheck and generous terms of a Navy patrol contract. Like other mercenaries we’ve seen in this space, the Bancroft company has been hit by saboteurs – Ladeonist or Incarnation, he couldn’t say – but has managed to prevent their doing any major damage to ship or crew. Unlike the other companies we've seen here, the Bancroft crew has yet to secure a proper Navy wartime contract.

Jacob sent in this story form the Matusalemme system. In case you don’t know the system by name, its only major inhabited world is Adimari Valis, well known for the extensive Xenarch ruins found deep underground not far from the main spaceport. Since over a dozen university networks from the rest of the Reach have missions on Adimari Valis, the Navy has hired several mercenary crews to keep the system well-patrolled, and several wealthy patrons have funded additional mercenary companies. Though the Navy does not have a permanent garrison of the system, Matusalemme is one of the better-protected systems on the Coreward Frontier.

Our source wishes to brag that he leveraged this situation into a more efficient – and profitable – use of his mercenaries, allowing his company to be paid twice for the same tour of duty. In the process, he provided an interesting look into the disadvantages of the Navy's heavy use of mercenaries in this conflict. To be sure, Captain Borisov does not appear to have done anything wrong, but like most mercenaries he has no motivation to do anything right either, unless he's paid.

My only curiosity (which he specifically left un-satisfied in his message) is what exactly the local government paid him with, other than credits. On a world known for its Xenarch ruins, I have to guess it was some piece of valuable hardware salvaged still-functional from an archaeological site. I'll admit I didn't know if private transfers of Xenarch relics was illegal - Nojus helpfully told me it is legal, but only barely so.


Jacob paced up and down the hallway outside his temporary groundside tenement, hand cupped to his right ear to drown out all sound from that direction that didn’t come from his comm earpiece. Though it felt like two hours, the signal-response delay to Taavi Bancroft was only twenty seconds – twenty seconds of a shooting war where anything, including the total loss of his ship with all hands, might happen.

The pinch-faced little man acting as his local guide stood mutely off to one side, but Jacob knew better than to expect the Adimari local to tune out his guest’s conversation. Fully sixteen mercenary ships prowled the star system, and none of them including Jacob’s own could be bothered to inform the system authority or the planetary government whenever something happened. Mercenaries, though only too happy to swap intelligence with co-belligerent outfits, usually only reported activity to their paymasters, which the locals weren’t. Adimari Valis’s ample archaeological treasures never had translated into actual treasure with which the system could buy its own protection.

Finally, the comm circuit came to life with a reply from Lestat Pain, the newly-promoted Bancroft executive officer. “I confirm previous report, skipper. Two Tyrant cruisers on planetary intercept course.”

“Damn.” Jacob keyed the reply control. “As we discussed at the conference, Lestat. Captain Accorsi on Dervish has theater control. Keep your tac-feed open to my ship.”

Jacob doubted even a swarm of sixteen mercenary ships could pose a threat against two heavy cruisers. Most of the mercs in the system operated strike squadrons out of the converted cargo bays of lumbering hauler-carriers, and while that many carrier elements could give Nate strike squadrons heartburn, they lacked the munitions to do serious damage to the Tyrant cruisers themselves. The two antiquated frigates and one obsolescent destroyer of Accorsi’s formation theoretically could do more, but these fragile vessels would never survive a close-range slugging match with the raiders long enough to do so.

“Mr. Borisov, would you prefer to postpone your meeting? The governor will be waiting.”

Jacob whirled on the guide, fixing him with a glare capable of melting green recruits into quivering sludge, but which the dour local seemed immune to. “Postpone?” The attack had come at the worst possible time, with Jacob and a platoon of muscle ground-side in hopes of negotiating a side-contract with the planetary government. The troopers would be little use in a fleet action, even a haphazard mercenary fleet action, but Jacob hated being sidelined while most of his employees went into battle. “I’m not doing anything else. Let’s go.”

To be sure, Bancroft was probably the least likely ship to suffer serious damage, but Jacob’s squadrons would go into the fray with the rest – squadrons he couldn’t replace, since Bancroft didn’t have a sweetheart contract with the Navy like some of the other crews. On a Navy contract, operational losses would be replaced by newer and more capable tech from the fleet’s ample logistics train; Jacob’s employer was a civilian research consortium which had no such resources.

Following the guide to his small aircar, Jacob listened to the occasional status report from Bancroft on the brief flight to the planet’s modest administrative complex. The city below him, though extensive, was a ragtag and mismatched affair which still reminded him of the dusty colonial outposts on newly-settled worlds. Adimari Valis was a treasure-hunter’s wet dream; a whole poorly-explored planet of unclaimed terrain, on which at least one massive Xenarch ruin had been unearthed. The possibilities lurking below its pebbly soil and beyond thickets of spine-throwing pincushion trees had drawn in many of the Frontier’s most reckless fortune-seekers even before the war, though few had yet made more than a modest fortune prospecting for unclaimed Xenarch artifacts.

After landing on the administrative center’s roof, Jacob allowed the guide to lead him below, into the air-conditioned bustle at whose heart lurked Governor Yamaguchi. The brooding, overworked and under-paid administrator had reached out to Jacob almost as soon as his ship had nosed up to the orbital refueling docks, and it was only too consistent with Jacob’s luck that his careful nursing of this connection over five weeks in-system would be jeopardized by a Nate attack.

The guide stopped in front of a door and ushered Jacob inside, and he stomped in without delay. The governor’s office was smaller than he expected, but clean and well-appointed. Yamaguchi stood and offered a quick bow and handshake, sealed the door, and pointed Jacob to a seat.

“Good to finally meet you, Governor.” Jacob said, turning the gain on his earpiece down as far as he dared while he settled into the offered chair.

Yamaguchi, in no mood to talk around matters, leaned forward in his oversized chair. “Is it true? The foe attacks us now?”

Jacob shrugged. He was in no mood to give away intelligence for free, even as agitated as he was. “I heard some rumors on the way over.”

The governor scowled, resistant to the idea of paying for information a Navy garrison might have given him for free. “If the Incarnation has come to Matusalemma at last, I may need to act quickly to save lives.”

“That’s true.” A corner of Jacob’s mind processed a status report from his executive officer, twenty seconds delayed, and knew that the opposing forces above had not yet clashed. He had plenty of time to spar with this new potential client. “As it turns out, my company has experience with groundside disaster relief and-”

“Mr. Borisov.” Yamaguchi’s interruption, though quiet, was iron-firm. “Even with lives at stake, you play the salesman?”

Jacob did his best to look hurt. He knew how valuable the face-saving game of shaming mercenaries for needing to be paid shortly before negotiating the terms of employment was to the social orders which got themselves into enough trouble to need mercenaries in the first place. “Governor, I sympathize with your plight, but you know I have investors and creditors. We run tight margins, as I’m sure you know. If I took a pro-bono contract and it went bad, Taavi Bancroft would be bankrupt.”

Jacob wished this last was farther from true than it was. For several months his outfit had shambled along on small, dull contracts while he tried to arrange a big score with the Navy like so many other companies, and the bottom line showed it.

“I see.” Yamaguchi nodded slowly. “I can hardly ask you to risk bankruptcy.”

The acid tone in which these words lashed out across the governor’s desk might have demoralized a less experienced mercenary, but Jacob knew he had the governor hooked. The other outfits in orbit didn’t have sizable ground teams aboard their ships, and Jacob, after a little bit of digging, had guessed what Yamaguchi wanted, other than intelligence. He was the only company commander in the system with the ability to solve the governor’s groundside problem. He could nearly name his price, and the local administration would pay it. “My company’s standard operation pricing is easily available on the datasphere. Since this is an emergency, I’m sure your government has an emergency fund capable of absorbing our expenses.”

Yamaguchi nodded vaguely. “Do you consider… non-monetary payment?”

On a one-trick economy world like Adimari Valis, Jacob had expected this tactic, too. “You’ll have to be more specific, but usually no.”

The governor slid a data-slate across his desk. “Is this sufficiently specific?”

Jacob reached for the device, and his eyebrows went up as he read it and zoomed in on the rotating full-capture imagery. He had expected offers of the planet’s only valuable export, but nothing like what was being dangled in front of him. “I think…” It was a risk, to be sure, but as long as he took at least half the fee in hard credits… “I think we can work something out, Governor.”

For the first time, the man smiled. He thought he was in control of the negotiations – and Jacob would let him think that right up until a strategic walk-away would increase his company’s share of the local treasury. “Are you prepared to discuss terms with the… rumored trouble in the sky yet unresolved?”

Negotiating anything with the situation in orbit unresolved was a risk, but he was a mercenary – he always played the risks. “I don’t see why not.” He replied with a disinterested shrug.

At that instant, Jacob heard Pain announce the launch of his company’s entire operational strike wing against the raiders, simultaneous with launches from every other mercenary outfit in the ragged flotilla above.