|
The year is 3032. The Concrete Dragons, a small ex-AFFS unit less than a year into their first tour as mercs, find themselves reluctantly playing a part in a long-simmering civil conflict on the Periphery world of Renfro. A mob supporting the elected Governor is marching against the hereditary Elder Council, and the Renfro Militia has called out the Dragons to help keep the peace.
As the Concrete Dragons marched their Mechs towards Junction's city center, Lieutenant Brian Hasek had to call to his point man. "Red, slow down."
"Sorry, guv." Red Drake, the oversized farm boy from the Outback, wasn't used to his new Enforcer's greater speed yet. It took a conscious effort to not leave the rest of the Dragons in their slower UrbanMechs behind. "So what's the plan?"
"I'm working on that." Brian switched channels. "Colonel Monroe? We are moving to your position. What are our orders?"
The Colonel sounded surprisingly cheerful, given the situation; Brian could visualize the old man in his militia-issue long coat and floppy hat, sitting in his command truck. "Glad y'all decided to come out and help! Right now, looks like we got things in hand; I've got militia units around the crowd, kinda movin' with 'em without puttin' up a fuss. They're marchin' up Central right now, headed fer the Council House; just block their way if you can. I want 'em to think twice about tryin' something stupid."
"Roger that." Brian paused a moment, his jaw set in thought, then asked a key question. "What if they DO try something stupid?"
Colonel Monroe's answer was sober. "Then it's gonna be a LONG night." The old soldier sighed. "If things get violent, let the militia try to handle it first. No need to have your Mechs stompin' people unless they try to burn the Council House or something." That thought made the Colonel pause; he took a few thoughtful puffs on his pipe, and then spoke again, decisively: "Just get between them and the Council House and try to look intimidating. If I need y'all to do more than that, I'll tell y'all personally. You're on MY orders only. Got that?"
Brian hesitated; the tone of the Colonel's last order struck him as unusual, but it wasn't the place or time to question. "Roger that." Then a thought stuck him. "What if the mob tries to swarm us or something?"
The Colonel hesitated this time, then spoke resignedly. "Then y'all do whatcha gotta do. I can't order y'all to not defend yourselves, ya know?"
"Understood." Brian switched back to the Dragons' channel. "Dragons, Dragon Lead. We will form up between the mob and the Council House, and stand fast. The Colonel just wants us to look intimidating. If things get ugly, the militia will handle it. We will not take any action unless specifically ordered by the Colonel. If we have to defend ourselves, it will be on MY orders. All Dragons acknowledge."
One by one, the Concrete Dragons chimed in. When it came his turn, Ian Sandoval, Brian's old NAIS classmate, fellow ex-noble and reformed pirate, spoke up from his Valkyrie. "Brian, I am still new to Renfro. Would you mind telling me what exactly is going on here?"
"Certainly," Brian replied as the Concrete Dragons turned their Mechs up a side street; the shortcut would put them ahead of the mob, in their intended blocking position. "Renfro basically has two governments. The first is the Elder Council, the oligarchy in charge since the fall of the Star League. The recent addition is the popular government led by the elected Governor. Sometimes they cooperate, sometimes they don't. The two sides have been struggling to get along for years, and things finally may be coming to a head here."
"I see." Ian paused, then spoke again. "Where does the militia stand?"
"The militia is on the Governor's side."
Angel Fairchild, the petite half-Capellan hotshot from St. Ives, broke into the conversation in her usual abrupt way. "And what about us?"
"As for us, it's complicated." Brian sighed. "The person whom actually hired us was one of the Elders, but our contract puts us under militia command, and the Governor personally told me to not get us involved unless we had no other choice. My interpretation of all of that is that we follow orders from the militia, but we let Renfro resolve its own affairs as much as possible. Fortunately, that seems to be what the Colonel has in mind, too."
"Oh," Angel said. "So we just stand around and wait for orders, then?"
"Yes."
Angel grinned into her radio. "Merc or AFFS, some things never change, do they?"
Brian smiled to himself at that. "No, they don't."
The hard voice of Sergeant Henry Cromwell, the Concrete Dragons' veteran XO, cut through their laughter. "Cut the chatter, people. We're here. Red take the right, Ian left. Urbies in the middle, fast movers watch our flanks."
The Dragons acknowledged the tactical order, and formed their line in front of the Council House as ordered. In front of them, the long, dark Central Avenue of Junction stretched into the evening darkness. There was movement in the near distance, and Brian gave an order. "Everyone, full lights. Now."
With that, the Concrete Dragons' Mechs lit up, their running lights erasing the dark and revealing the advancing crowd, which collectively paused to shield their eyes. Brian saw that militia infantry and police had the crowd surrounded, but were moving with them as containment instead of offering confrontation. It was a display of urban peacekeeping at its finest, and Brian realized that the militia must have experienced such demonstrations before, though perhaps not on this scale. The crowd easily numbered in the hundreds, if not thousands.
Brian keyed the militia. "Colonel, we are in position, and it looks like the crowd has stopped. What's going on?"
"Wait one," the Colonel replied. After a pause, he continued. "The Governor is here with me right now. We're tryin' to talk the crowd down, but we got another problem. There's another crowd coming up on your right...Council supporters. Watch your flank."
"We got a problem, guv." Red's voice broke in over the Dragons' channel. "There's another mob on our right, and they're armed." The big man pivoted his bigger Mech to face them, and the new crowd stopped as the Enforcer partly raised its gun arms as a menacing gesture.
"Monkey in the middle," Henry muttered through his cigar. "Just bloody wonderful."
(TO BE CONTINUED)
_________________ Be careful what you wish for. I might let you have it. 
|
Login
FAQ
Search
