21 June 3023
The vaults of Independence Weaponry were swarming with Dragoon Techs, most of whom were tagging crates and individual pieces of equipment to be moved by conscripted locals. Dragoon ground troopers watched the conscripts carefully as they loaded the loot into trucks or hoppers rigged for BattleMechs to carry. The work was proceeding briskly.
A few Techs manned the computer stations. Their job was more than merc identification of physical booty. They were trying to crack the security codes for access to encrypted computer data. Long ago, the industrial firms of the Inner Sphere had learned to keep their important data as nonportable as possible. Their factories were that much safer when an outsider who wanted the data knew that blowing his way in would cost him what he sought.
Senior Tech Bynfield was in charge of the scavenger teams. When Minobu and Yukinov entered, she called to the Major. Bynfield was excited and soon had Yukinov engrossed in what was on her console. Minobu paid them little attention, preferring to take his own survey of the operation.
Into the midst of this organized chaos walked Sho-saHawken. Like a lord moving among the serfs of his domain, he strolled to where Yukinov and Bynfield stood. Ignoring the Senior Tech, he announced to Yukinov, “This is all Combine property, Major.”
“What?” Bynfield sputtered angrily. Her face reddened, drawing a satisfied smile from Hawken.
“At ease, Bynfield,” Yukinov ordered. To Hawken, he said, “I think you may be a little confused, Major. Our contract specifies a split on all spoils and salvage, apportioned by risk and costs of operations borne.”
“Your contract?” Hawken snorted. “A scrap of paper. You mercenaries are, I am sure, concerned with scraping up the debris that warriors leave behind, and so salvage is of great interest to you. Soldiers are concerned with military information and supplies.” With a wave of his hand, he took in the building and the activity around them. “Such as this. It is all strictly military, and hence, property of the Draconis Combine.”
“Military ...”
“Bynfield!”
“You really should teach your underlings better manners, Major Yukinov.”
“You slimy—”
“ Bynfield!”
Bynfield heard the warning in Yukinov's raised voice. She blanked the computer screen and stamped off to another terminal.
Yukinov didn't bother to watch her go, but kept his eyes on Hawken. Controlling his temper, he said, “I think you'll find the contact specifies that ...”
“You,” Hawken interrupted, “will find that the Combine has classified all materials here as military supplies and information. Which makes all this the property of House Kurita.”
“You won't get away with this. We'll take it before the ComStar Board if you insist.” Hawken merely laughed and walked away, Yukinov looked around, located Minobu, and headed for him. The anger he had held in check while talking to the Sworder overflowed into his voice. “All right. You're supposed to be the Professional Soldiery Liaison. What's going on?”
“Calm yourself, Major,” Minobu cautioned. “Your defense of your contract was adequate and accurate. However, Major Hawken is correct with regard to the disposition of properties here. That is, if they are declared as military priority.”
While they spoke, some Sword of Light troopers came in and began to direct the changing of destination tags. Outside, a Kurita BattleMech arrived to guard the guardians of the conscript labor.
“What am I supposed to do now?” Yukinov demanded.
“For now, Major, I suggest you go along.”
“All right. In the interest of amicable relations, I will. But I'm expecting a different tune when the Colonel gets here.”
Go along they did, but with no joy. Minobu doubted that Hawken could see the difference, but he noticed a distinct drop in the efficiency of the Dragoons tagging and moving property. The air grew tense as the Sworders became more brusque with their orders. A fistfight between a Dragoon and a Sworder ‘Mech Warrior started, but was quickly broken up. Shortly after that, a second Kurita 'Mech joined the first outside the building.
So things stood when Lord Kurita and Jaime Wolf arrived, talking easily to one another as though they were fellow officers. Without a word, each took in the tension at the factory complex.
“What's the problem here?” Wolf inquired of Yukinov. The Major's explanation was brief and to the point, omitting nothing relevant.
“If it is military data, we are obliged to turn it over to the Combine,” Wolf concluded. He turned to Takashi Kurita. “Is it so classified, Lord Kurita?”
The two men searched one another's eyes, cold blue meeting steel gray. Minobu could almost see their kistrengths thrust and parry in the space between them. This had become a test of wills and of loyalties. A long time later—a mere heartbeat—Takashi Kurita replied, “It is.”
“So be it, Major Yukinov. See that House Kurita receives all the property due them.”
“Well said, Colonel,” remarked Lord Kurita with a smile.
“I am sure your underlings were merely being over-zealous. I myself often have to deal with such enthusiastic supporters.” He placed his hand on Wolf's shoulder, turning him toward the door. As the Coordinator walked the mercenary Colonel from the vault, he lowered the pitch of his voice and spoke more loudly. Minobu had no doubt that Lord Kurita wished all present to hear his words.
“There is no problem, friend Colonel. I take no notice of anything out of the ordinary. It will be as though nothing had happened.”
At the vault's great double doors, a courier met the pair of leaders. He handed a message to Lord Kurita, who read it quickly and stuffed the flimsy into a pocket in his uniform.
“I am afraid I must leave, Colonel. Duties of state call me back to Luthien.” It was not long before the Coordinator had gathered together his officers and left to prepare for his journey. Work in the factory continued as before, while Bynfield approached the group of Dragoon officers.
“Malfing samurai,” she said, spitting onto the concrete.
“Military data, my left cheek. This stuff is pure Tech stuff. Unity! Half of it is just theoretical. At least they didn't get all of it.”
Wolf rounded on her, his carriage stiff. “What do you mean?”
She held up a tape cartridge.
“This. It's good stuff, too. Axial flux patterns in fusion containment bottles, myomer stress reaction patterning.” She went on, becoming more and more intricate in detail. Lost in her technical world, the Tech didn't notice that Wolf just stood there watching her, his face hard.
“Bynfield, you're confined to quarters until further notice.”
“What!” She was shocked. It was clearly not what she had expected.
“You have jeopardized our position by disobeying orders. We agreed to pass that data over. All by yourself, you've broken our contract.”
Bynfield's mouth worked, but no wound came out.
“Can't we just turn it over now?” somebody else asked.
Wolf turned on him. “You haven't been studying your briefings. We're stuck. If anybody finds out about that tape, we're in trouble. I lose face for not having control over my troops.” His glance clearly indicated the “troops” in question. “Kurita loses face because he was generous in overlooking our little scene. Nobody wins.
“Kurita might decide we can't be trusted with anything. Then where are we? We sit out a five-year contract on garrison in the hinterlands. No combat bonuses. No loot shares. You all know that we can't afford that because the short contract with Steiner left us strapped.
“Besides, we have our reputation to consider. We're supposed to be the best, most reliable mercs in the Sphere. We break contract now and we start the slide down.”
Into the silence that greeted Wolf's words, Minobu heard someone suggest, “We could pack up and head for home.”
Wolf addressed his answer to all the Dragoons. “That's not an option right now.”