Shadow on the Edge
Chapter 2

Copyright© 2003 by Aeralyndal

It was about ten days after the run in with Jackson when I got to thinking. We had moved forward to a more central location and from here were running supplies on a regular basis. Not a panic like before but on a planned schedule. We were setting up some forward supply points.

Casey and I were again checking over #14. I had just wiped off our kill flags, now a half of a Mech and two hover tanks when I asked Casey, "How much do you know about Mechs? You know, repairing them and such."

He gave me a funny look and replied, "More than the average person, why do you ask?"

"Sean, you have your gun so now you are happy. I want a Mech. I can't tell you why but I got to have one. I figured maybe we could get one the same way you got your gun."

"Leofa, you have lost your feeble mind. Nobody steals a Mech. Where would you hid it?"

"Sean, Sean I don't want to steal one. I want to build one. A piece at the time until we have a complete Mech. So how much do you know?"

"Not that much. Where you going to find one? One that isn't shot to ribbons, recovered or stripped to a bare frame?' he asked a little more settled than before.

"I've found not one but two. I think we could take parts from one and repair the other. I've been checking on them from time to time and they're still there and I don't think anyone even remembers them."

"What are they, where are they. How come I haven't seen them?" Questions coming in rapid fire order.

"I found them a week ago. The day you had the appointment over at Head Quarters. I went back and marked the trail so I could tell if something large had gone in. Like a BattleMech or maybe a Mech retriever. They're still there. We drive past them a couple of times a day and they're there," I answered smugly.

"That small arroyo off the east side of the canyon three klicks from here. So that's what's up there. I've noticed all the attention you've been giving it, kid. I just didn't know why," he said with a laugh. "So what do you have stashed up there?"

"Two Jenners."

"Jenners? Those are lights. I thought you would at least go for a medium. Not bad Mechs though. Fast, not bad on armor for a light and well armed. But I don't know enough for that. You need a well equipped Mech bay for what you're wanting, depending on how badly they are shot up."

"Sean, how hard is it to learn? Damn it, I got to have one."

Looking at the quiet, sandy haired young man Casey replied, "Son, if it's really that important then we can do something. Come on."

Sean was a good bit older than me but he had never called me 'Son' before. Made me start to wonder.

We walked away from the vehicle section and nearly across the base until we entered a large hanger that was being used to repair Mechs. Cranes, derricks and gantries of all kinds were in use and the noise was deafening. Sean handed me a strange headset with forward pointing horns. As soon as I put it on the noise disappeared. Touching my arm to get my attention he said in a normal voice, "The only problem with these is you have to look at the person you're talking to. The audio pick-ups in the 'horns' are directional. They also have a very narrow band. You shout and it won't be picked up. Just speak normally."

He looked around then asked someone for directions. We headed towards the offices which over looked the repair bays. We entered and he approached an older man that looked like he might be in charge. As he did he removed the headset so I followed and removed mine as well.

"Peachy, wake up! You goofing off like normal?" he asked.

"Casey, you sorry old bastard, what are you doing over here with working men?" he came back, extending his hand.

"The kid thinks he wants to get dirty," he said pointing to me. "You seem to know a nut from a bolt so I thought you might teach him a little. He's trainable, not as dumb as he looks and will give you something to do besides pick your nose."

"Who is he Sean?" Peachy asked seriously.

"Tate, he's my driver. We been together about three months and he'll do. You know about our transporter? Well he helped me do the modification. When they came down on us for it he held his mud. Stood up to Billy Jackson and told him 'No, we aren't taking that stuff off'. He wants to learn so I brought him to you," Casey answered in the same tone.

"OK, get out of here and don't steal nothing as you leave. I don't think a PPC will fit on your little bitsy transporter."

"Kid," Casey said, "this is Warrant Officer Tate Campbell. Listen to him and you'll learn what you want to know." With a wave to Campbell he replaced the headset and left.

"Boy," Campbell said to me, "I don't know what you did but that man likes you. And any person Sean Casey likes is worth a little extra trouble." With that he put me to work.

What I was interested in was mainly the electrical/electronics systems. How to run down leads to make sure they were connected to the correct points and that kind of stuff. W.O. Campbell put me with one of his leading workers. Not the sergeant who supervised and oversaw the work but a man who did the work.

Each morning I would report in to Sgt. Mackey. We were in the midst of a lull so if there was nothing for me I would go to the repair hanger. Sgt. Mackey was aware of where I was in case the balloon went up and I was needed.

A little over a month after I started training Mackey showed up in the repair bay where I was working.

He asked, "Thompson, is he learning anything? Is he worth the time and effort he's costing you?"

Before he could answer I cut in, "Maybe not but I'm the best tool-passer he ever had."

Thompson laughed, "He's not slow. He's picking this up real well. Surprising, you'd think he had done some of this before."

Looking at Mackey I replied, "No, Sergeant, I've never worked on Mechs before."

"Well as long as things are quiet and Thompson will put up with you keep it up. We can always use someone who knows a little about repairing these monsters." With that he turned away and left. Thompson had already turned back to the repair we were working on and didn't hear him.

Casey and a load handler had been making a couple of runs a week during this time. They were simply stockpiling a few tons of ordinance in a couple of locations in case another push came. We were expecting something but as yet the Snakes were content to lick their wounds and hold what they had. Right now we were content to do the same. There was a good bit of fighting north of us so we were holding and waiting.

Two weeks after Mackey had showed up Casey and I took #14 for a test drive. We headed for my arroyo. Casey had never seen the two Mechs that I had stumbled across so they came as a surprise.

"Kid, you can't be thinking of fixing these two up?" he asked.

"Case, they are not as bad as they look at first glance," I replied.

They weren't. One had it's chest blown away. While the fusion engine was a wreck the pilot had been able to throw on all the safeties and damp the pile. It had not blown up. One leg was trashed and there was a lot of armor scrubbed off but the head was all right. The other was minus its head and a ton or two of armor, but as far as I had been able to tell from looking no internals had been suffered. Replace the head and armor and it would be good as new. After I pointed out a few basics Casey saw what I had seen. A real treasure trove. There was enough to make one complete Mech with extra parts.

We removed a few of the shattered armor plates from the headless Jenner. We worked on removing the remains of the head. With the plates out of the way I could get to the control connectors. There wasn't much above the connectors but it all had to be removed so the new controls could be put in place.

We worked steady for several hours. We didn't do anything major but we had the neck area of the one nearly ready to receive the head from the other. We had the head nearly ready to shift. One more day to shift the head, a day to attach it in place and then a day to see if I could remember what I had learned. Three days and we would then be able to see what else was in need of repair.

It took a nearly a week! It took longer to remove and shift the other shattered armor plates than I thought. Still using the derrick on #14 we shifted the head. We had removed several of the armor plates so the weight was less than normal. Lifting shell canisters and placing them into ammo hoppers had given me a fine touch with the derrick. Casey gave me the directions and I inched the head in place. We placed some temporary retaining bolts in place and buttoned up for the evening.

Next day we secured the head and I made a few major connections. By evening of the fifth day I climbed aboard, turned the action board to maintenance and started to activate the Mech. Power was in the green, nothing wrong with the engine. We did have several red indicator lights and a few that fluttered green and yellow. Either the connector had been improperly made or a system was malfunctioning.

I fastened the restraint straps, placed my feet on the pedals and gripped the controls. Using the derrick to retain balance I slowly regained my feet from the sitting position it had been in since I found her. Yes HER! She was already alive and responding to my commands. I walked her around, bent, leaned and twisted. No other lights came on. I called up targets, calibrated them, magnified them and did everything but fire them. In the maintenance mode I couldn't do that.

After about twenty minutes of moving her about I returned her near the old location and 'parked' her out of sight between two large boulders. When I shut her down and opened the hatch I don't know who was wearing the biggest grin, me or Casey. We had done it! Well nearly done it.

"Casey," I said after I rejoined him on the ground. "We need some place closer to base to hide her while we make the final repairs. Do you have any ideas?"

"Of course. What do you think I've been doing while you were learning how to be an assistant tech? I have a place all picked out, a route into it where we shouldn't be seen and some tools to work with. There are even some lights rigged up," he stated smugly.

"Day or night approach?"

"Day. You slip around at night and someone will know you are up to something. We go in broad daylight brazen as hell, like we own the place and no one will think anything about it. With the fighting still going on up north they will think that the wounded Mech has simply been shifted here for repairs as we aren't as busy as they are up there." The smug expression still present.

The seventh day just about lunch time we moved her to Casey's hide out. By the time I got there I had started to figure out the lights. Jenners have a SRM-4 pack aboard. Ours wasn't working. When this Mech lost its head either the blast kept going or some of the armor from the head had been blown into the SRM launcher. Something was wrong with the jump jets and two of the heat sinks on the right leg were not working properly. With so much armor removed the damage lights were glowing to let us know we were 'injured' in these areas.

Entering the base the way Casey had informed me I walked the Jenner right to the old barn. It was off to one side between the repair hanger and the runway. Why no one had knocked it down I don't know but it was just what we needed.

We rigged up a block and tackle and that evening removed the Thunderstroke missile launcher, automatic feeders and about two thirds of a ton of missiles. These we had to be very careful with. We loaded them aboard #14 and lashed them down securely. Casey then returned them to an ordinance bunker.

I don't like missiles. Not since... well I just don't like them. Without the missiles and the launcher I now had three tons to play around with. I could put on more armor, say a ton. What to do with the other available tonnage? More guns? More heat sinks? More speed? What? I thought about this as I worked to remove a jump jet. We couldn't repair it here, it would need replacing as would one other jet.

When Casey returned we removed the second jump jet and an inoperative heat sink. Finally we stopped for the night with plans for the next day.

It was three days before we got back to the Jenner. The Snakes landed more troops, supplies and Mechs. Some of the forces came against us and we were humping ordinance as fast as we could move. With pilots firing the smaller auto cannons like heavy machine guns they went through the stock pile of ammo in no time. We were kept busy keeping them supplied so they could stomp Snakes. One thing about a Kurita commander, when he gets an idea in his head and that's it. Talk about stubborn, he could give lessons to a mule! He was going to attack this wing, crumple it and turn the flank. He will keep this idea until he has no more forces left to carry out his plan or until he is killed - which ever comes first.

In this case on the third morning he was killed and we spent the rest of the day rebuilding the stock pile while they withdrew. We paid a price for stopping them but no where near the price they paid for trying. Our Mech retrievers were taking Mechs back to be repaired and also picking up several of their Mechs that could be used by our forces when they had been repaired and/or reconditioned or as spare parts if they couldn't be repaired.

Casey and I took a leg off of a Mech and dropped it off enroute to an ammo bunker. We could remove the heat sinks and jump jets and use them as replacements.

Our forces also moved forward several klicks as they had run off the Snakes. We would drop down into the battle zone and take a part or two during each return trip. We soon had a couple of legs (heat sinks and jump jets as well as armor), a couple of arms (armor, relays and weapons), several pieces of armor, three different types of neuro-helmets, targeting computers and other odds and ends. Looked like we wanted to build a second Mech.

I took the helmets and targeting computers to Thompson to go through and check out. He had much more experience with them than I did plus he had a test bench which I didn't. I led him to believe we were going to improve the sights in #14.

While he was doing that I was really getting dirty. One at the time we removed the heat sinks. With all of them out and lined up we were going to clean them. When you cook coolant it turns to gunk! High pressure steaming is about the only way to get the stuff out. I took over a cleaning bay and Casey fed them to me one at the time. When I finished one and was waiting for another someone else would back in a sink to be steamed. To clean our fourteen and not look conspicuous I cleaned twenty-three heat sinks. It is a hot, dirty, smelly job to clean one - but twenty-three! It was worth it. When they were replaced, filled with clean coolant and pressurized more red lights would turn green.

We ran leads down the interior frame for our modifications. We replaced armor (green lights), installed the new jump jets (green lights) and replaced the damaged heat sinks (more green lights). Using the targeting computers and sights from a Rifleman we were ready. No more red lights. The only thing I needed was a neuro-helmet and to change the activation code to my own after inputting a new brain scan modulation match.

When Thompson finished the helmets I picked one popular in Liao and told him to keep the other two. Hanging the helmet from the suspension straps inside the Mech I slowly started making the connections between the Mech and the helmet. The helmet feeds as well as receives information directly into/from the brain. When I had first started working in the repair shed I had cut my hair as short as most pilots wear theirs. The reasoning I gave then was that it wouldn't get in my way and the reception would be better as we tested some of our repairs. Now everyone was used to seeing me with very short hair and the helmet sensors should fit close as they were supposed to. When the last helmet feed was in place I sat down in the saddle, strapped myself in and started her up. Pulling the neuro-helmet down I threw the final switch. I turned her off 'maintenance' to 'activate'. I was instantly dizzy as the helmet tried to match my brain waves to those being fed through it. I slowly changed the modulation until the brain scans matched. I replaced the old code with a new activation code and moved her around. I did everything except fire her weapons. I heated them up. I aimed, moved, ran in place. Nothing fell off, she responded as she was designed and no red lights came on.

I shut her down and wearily climbed down. My head was splitting and I was tired. I had achieved my goal. I had a Mech. Now would she and I be accepted and would I be allowed to keep her?

Instead of lunch I took a shower and had a nap. That evening I took her out to the firing range set up behind the repair hanger. You have to have a test area for repairs on weapons systems. I fired the guns for the first time. I walked and fired. I ran and fired and I jumped and fired. They worked. I even hit the targets more times than I missed.

I was walking on a cloud as Casey and I walked over to the mess hall after shutting her down and securing the area. After chow we walked over to the club to celebrate a bit. We each had two beers, I bought.

After the beers we returned to the barn. There was one final step that needed to be done. Taking armor plates where we could find them she was truly a Mech of many colors. She needed to be sandblasted to remove all the old paint and rust and then given a single coat of paint. While I was thinking about this a booming voice came at me from the darkened doorway.

"You just don't learn do you, boy?" Sergeant Major Jackson and Master Sergeant Mackey stepped into the light. "What did I tell you the last time. You come to me and Mackey with your crazy schemes. Let's see this abortion of yours."

Knowing we had been caught in violation of every rule in the Mercenary Creed we stood speechless.

Walking nearer the two sergeants started a close up inspection of the Mech made from scrounged parts.

"Well... what do ya think Travis?" asked Jackson.

"Doesn't look quite right. It looks a bit bulkier than it should... and... the missile pack. They haven't put on the missile pack, Billy."

"Well boy, what's wrong? Couldn't find a Short Range Missile pack? There are three in the Armory supply right now. Why didn't you steal one of them like ya stole everything else?"

"I didn't want a missile pack on her." I said, slowly regaining my composure.

"Her? Did ya hear that? It's a 'Her' already. You didn't want a missile pack? Why not? That's a third of your fire power," demanded the Sgt. Major.

"I couldn't afford the weight," I answered simply.

"Weight? That Mech was designed with that armament. What do you mean, boy?"

"Billy, look here." called Mackey, "here's why. He's added another jump jet to each leg and I'd say at least another ton of armor. What other changes did you make, Leofa?"

"Limited jump, not any more. Lightly armored, not any more. Over heated, well I added another heat sink. She can jump, She can fight and She can keep fighting longer. She's good, Sarge. We even up graded the target acquisition system. She hits what She fires at. She's a Scout Killer now Sarge, not just another light mech. The JR7-D was originally designed as a Raider, a Guerrilla fighter. Now She's better at that. No missiles that need to be reloaded. Heavier armor so She can fight longer and more jets so She can jump higher or further. This company could use another good Mech. She's good Sarge, just give us a chance to prove it."

"Prove it? Prove it? Who would go into combat with that thing? If it would move it probably couldn't keep up with the others. If the weapons would fire the safest place to be is right in front of them and when it took the first hit it would instantly turn back into a collection of spare parts. Boy, I've seen some crazy schemes, even took part in some but this one tops them all. Some wet behind the ears, snot nosed driver of an ammo wagon and a two bit broken down gunner think they can build a Mech out of stolen parts. Not only that, they think someone is actually going to take it into combat," raged the Top Kick.

"Sergeant Major, with all due respect to your rank, fuck you, you malfing son-of-a-bitch! Don't you ever talk like that to me again. I told you we scrounged the parts. They were all overhauled and brought up to as new condition as we could make them. Any parts that we might have used from the Stores supply I more than repaid with reconditioned parts that I returned. I didn't want the missile packs, I told you that, but we overhauled them first before we turned them in to Stores. You have three packs in Stores because we overhauled and turned in two. I kept a careful log of what I used from Stores and what I turned back. Not counting time and labor you owe me not the other way around. I didn't steal your damn parts."

"As for Mechs I've been around them, working on them, training on them and fighting them all my life. You name the Mech and I'll tell you not only the strong points but its weak points. Where to hit it to cause the most damage and then the quickest way to fix it. I didn't have hands-on experience with repairs but I knew how to do them."

"And another thing, don't you ever call me BOY again. I'll match my knowledge about Mechs, tactics and combat against yours any day and beat you hands down. Just like me, Casey is more than he appears. Every week you sent me someone new to be the Load Checker. Sent them down to us as punishment. You never had to send a gunner or a driver either. For a year now Casey has been my gunner and we always made our deliveries. The others might not go on to complete their mission but Casey and I did. And the only time you said 'thank you', 'kiss my ass' or anything is when Casey kept a whole supply convey from getting blown to hell when a couple of hover tanks had us cut off. We saved the convey, which in turn saved the company with our supplies and you give us a ration of shit because the weapon we used wasn't regulation."

The more I talked, the more worked up I became. I had been slowly advancing on the older man until we stood nose to nose. The volume of my speech had raised also. No longer the quiet, soft spoken recruit, my voice had a cutting edge to it. A tone that said listen, heed or else!

"As far as finding someone to fight her, I'll fight her. Why do you think I built her? It sure wasn't to let someone else take her into combat, some jerk water pilot who doesn't appreciate Her. I'll do it and I'll prove you wrong at the same time. It's safest to stand in front when she fires, you say? Go stand there and let's test your theory. Either put up or shut up, Sergeant!"

Again the expected explosion did not appear. What did appear was a smile, not a sneer or a grimace but a smile.

"More balls than a circus full of elephants. Feel better now, son? You got it out of your system, ya ready to talk now?"

Looking towards the shadows he continued, "Heard enough Captain? I told you this bo... young man had a plan. He was not stealing or running black market parts."

Into the light walked Captain 'Honcho' Sawyer, commanding officer of the Mercenary company 'Sawyer's Wildcats'.

"Yes, Jackson I've heard enough."

Looking at the two guilty culprits now standing at rigid attention he asked, "Where'd you train in and fight Mechs, Leofa?"

"At home, sir, with my father and two and a half years at St. Ives Academy."

"What happened? Couldn't make the grade?"

"No Sir! Top of my class, sir. It's personal, sir," I answered in rapid fire order. I felt like a Cadet again.

"Jackson, you and Mackey take Casey over to the mess hall. Feed him cake and coffee or something. I think this is going to take a while."

"Aye sir, come on Casey, Travis. It's chow time."

Looking around as the three men left Captain Sawyer spotted what he wanted. Motioning for me to follow him, he went over and sat on one of several packing crates scattered about the barn.

"Ok son, they're gone. Sit down and tell me what brought on this idea of your." Seeing signs of resistance he added, "That's an order, Private."

"Sir, do you know what it's like to be Dispossessed? I'm part of the fourth generation of my family to train and go into combat as the pilot of a Mech. Our family had a Valkyrie, 'Odin's Maiden'. My great grandfather was the first to train in her after his father captured it. He shot the pilot when he was refilling several water bottles. A raid was going on from the Federated Suns and his father was in the militia. He shot the pilot and walked the Mech home. He had experience with harvester mechs so he could move it but he didn't know enough about a BattleMech to fight in it. His son, my Great Grandfather learned to fight her. It's been in our family ever since."

"Two years ago my older brother Denny was caught up in a Kurita raid. They had mediums and heavies out and Denny was caught in a cross fire. The Maiden took a PPC hit in the right torso which blew the ammo bay for her LRMs. Denny ejected and lived through it but he's not a whole person any more. Lost both legs, one above and one below the knee. What was left of the Maiden became spare parts for someone."

"I was in the Academy when I got word. I was allowed to resign. That's kind of unusual, however my father is very well thought of by the Duchess of St. Ives, Candace Liao and her advisors. He's a retired Colonel and I remember how impressed the family was at the ceremony. You see my father was Knighted and several impressive bits of flash were hung on him. He retired when Denny finished the Academy and went into active duty."

"Being Dispossessed caused a lot of problems. Not just due to the lack of credits coming in. My younger brother couldn't enter the Academy. People look down on you like you're diseased or something."

"Your father would be Colonel Ian Leofa and the 'impressive bits of flash' you spoke of would be the Liao Cluster of Conspicuous Heroism and the Baton of Illustrious Service. Only the two highest medals the Capellan Confederation gives out. That still doesn't explain your scheme," said Sawyer.

Mouth agape, I could only nod my head at first. "Yes Sir, he is. Do you know my father, sir?"

"Yes I do Leofa. I know of him would probably be a better way of putting it. I know he was the commander of the 1st St. Ives Lancers. That he assumed command in '14 when most of the Command level staff had been killed defending St. Ives against the Avalon Hussars. Now the Scheme?" this time more insistent.

"Well sir," I continued finally, "I have a younger brother, Sean, like I said. He's due to start the Academy next year but only if we have a Mech in the family. Captain, this is the only way I could think of to gain a Mech in such a short time. Rebuilding one from scraps. I had to have a BattleMech. With a Mech he can go to the Academy. When he graduates he'll get a good assignment and a Mech. Not his own but a Mech, with the possibility of earning his own."

"So I joined a fighting Company, not one training or on garrison duty or what ever. Sean has to have his chance, sir."

For a while no one spoke. The quiet became very loud. Finally the Captain rose to his feet and began to inspect the reclaimed Mech. It was obvious from the different paint designs that this was a salvaged Mech. But the work was all first rate. When he climbed inside he was surprised. The insides were spotless. There was less clutter and mess than he had expected. Toggling a few switches the fusion engine started to come to life. A slight hum could be heard and a very faint vibration could be felt. Making sure the setting was indication 'Maintenance' he pulled down the neuro-helmet and became one with the machine. Soon the entire panel was alive and all the lights were green. At his urging the large machine moved. It moved and walked, turned and bent as he requested. Backing it into the cradle he turned off all the circuits he had opened.

Climbing down he returned to stand over me. "Ok, two things. One - your pay will be that of a green pilot for one year. No raises as you gain experience, no bonuses, no nothing. That's to pay for the 'scrounge rights' you've exercised for the last year."

My eyes were glued to the Captain. My wish had been granted or had it? "And the second, sir?"

With a grin on his face and laughter in his eyes the Captain replied. "Get this thing painted. That's the god-awfulest looking pile of parts I've ever seen."

ICol. Sir Ian Leofa

Caledonia Manor, Klandis Region

St. Ives, Liao

Dear Dad,

Yes, I'm still alive. My plan worked. We again have a Mech in the family. Tell Sean to make preparations to attend the Academy. You will be receiving a confirmation letter shortly that will attest to the fact that I'm not just blowing smoke. I am now the newest Mech pilot in Sawyer's Wildcats. I thought becoming a Merc with a fighting unit would be the fastest way to regain one of those incredible fighting machines. I did not gain my new mech by 'daring deeds of durance vile' but I did gain a Mech.

The 'Wee Darling' is a modified JR7-D Jenner. She's faster than the Maiden, heavier than she was, a little lighter armored and safer. After what happened to Denny I didn't want anything to do with missiles. I pulled them off and used the weight allowance for other things. Dad, you can preach missiles until whenever but they're a two edged sword. They can turn around and bite you as well.

When I got her one laser wasn't working properly. We had a complete set of Diplan M-3 mediums off a Grasshopper in Stores. We pulled the old Argra 3Ls off and replaced them with the M-3s. Our reasoning was that Diplan designed and made the Jenner as well as the lasers so they should match up. They have. I keep saying 'We', my gunner on #14, Sean Casey helped me every step of the way. Without him I couldn't have done it.

We repainted her as well. Her paint job was a bit unusual. She now wears a Savannah camo design, different shades of browns.

The Wildcats only got into one skirmish before this contract ended and I was very disappointed. I was one of those held in reserve and the reserves were never called forward.

Captain Sawyer's agent had another contract waiting for us when this one expired. We're going into garrison on some mining world in the Taurian Concordat called Roebuck. We'll be guarding the planet against Invasion/Raids/Pirates while at the same time we help them set up defenses and train up a Militia. We'll not be the only unit there. There'll be a Mechanized Infantry unit as well as another Mech unit, a light Battalion called Martine's Marauders.

Will tell you more when I see you. You know how letters can give unintended information. Must close. Give my best to both Sean and Denny. Will write more as it happens.

your loving son

Mick.

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