BattleTech: Riptides (The Mercenary Tales, #1)
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About this ebook
A NEW ERA IS DAWNING…
The Illician Lancers: a mercenary outfit with centuries of honorable tradition, yet somehow always missing the limelight. Especially recently, after their mission failure during the liberation of New Syrtis in 3147 tarnished their once-sterling reputation and left them languishing on the Capellan border. Can Colonel Luciana Araya Morales overcome the shame of those events and restore the Lancers to their former glory?
Meanwhile, as Clan Wolf prepares for its invasion of the cradle of humanity, Ya'el Labov, saKhan of the Sea Fox Khanate, hunts for new opportunities in the currents wafting from Terra. Rumors that the Clan Wolf Khan is using mercenaries as part of his attack plan set the wily saKhan's mind to spinning. How can he take advantage of this, and make Clan Sea Fox's star rise even further?
Two people with very different goals are about to embark on a shared mission that, if successful, will change much in the Inner Sphere. And if they are not, their alliance may be doomed to failure before it can even begin…
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BattleTech - Randall N. Bills
BATTLETECH: RIPTIDES
✷ ✷ ✷
THE MERCENARY TALES, #1
RANDALL N. BILLS
Catalyst Game LabsCONTENTS
Riptides
Randall N. Bills
About the Author
Battletech Glossary
BattleTech Eras
The BattleTech Fiction Series
Copyright
Notable BattleMechs
RIPTIDES
RANDALL N. BILLS
MERCHANT DROPPORT COMPLEX
HEAN
CLAN SEA FOX ENCLAVE
17 OCTOBER 3150
Perched high on a balcony atop the DropPort’s primary warehouse, Ya’el Labov, saKhan of Fox Khanate, leaned back in his chair, letting the hubbub of the massive facility wash over him. The wind ruffled his light-blond hair, and he squinted blue eyes against the warm orange-ish light of Hean’s K1V primary sun as it neared the horizon.
An impressive sight, no?
his companion asked, voice always harsh, regardless of emotion.
Ya’el glanced to his right, taking in the slick, light-blue one-suit with the Sea Fox logo riding collar. Above it, the clean-shaven, square-jawed face of a man who’d taken to growing out his hair and plaiting it into short braids ending in various colored ribbons.
On anyone else, a buffoon. But on you? You do nothing without reason. What group or culture are you emulating in hopes of opening new markets? Ya’el snapped his teeth together in mild frustration at the amount of resources spent trying to uncover the details of saKhan Andreas Sutherland’s machinations and the overarching plans of his Tiburon Khanate.
He pulled his sunglasses off the table and slid them on as the slanting light grew harsh, then took a long drink of the cold water in his cup to buy a few moments to respond. His gaze slid across the large tarmac stretching into the distance, the dozen DropShips downside, cavernous bellies in their weakest open position, waiting to be filled with hundreds of thousands of tons of supplies before lifting to orbit. And then three jumps, and then Fortress. And then…the fight for the greatest prize in the history of the Clans. In the history of humankind.
He took another sip, eyes still meandering. Aye. Fifteen square kilometers?
he spoke softly, forcing the other saKhan to lean slightly in his direction.
No, nearly eighteen,
Andreas said. And this is just stage two. Stage three will push it to twenty-five. And if all goes well, in less than five years, stage four will push it to nearly forty square kilometers. The largest Sea Fox Merchant House and DropPort enclave in the Inner Sphere.
Ya’el caught the prideful smile on the other saKhan’s face from the corner of his eye. As if you built this all yourself, regardless of how my Khanate supplied nearly half the resources. And yet, Andreas had been the one to secure three worlds within the Federated Suns.
Ya’el suddenly wished for a stiffer drink.
I am sure Prince Julian Davion is grateful you have accomplished this undertaking in such a short time.
Andreas quirked an eyebrow as Ya’el looked at him more directly, taking another sip of cool water before placing it on the glass table between the two of them with nary a sound of glass on glass. You know there is an insult in there, but cannot decide if you want to sink after it. That almost pulled Ya’el’s own lips into a threatening grin.
Oh, I am sure the Prince is very glad we are making such good use of his former world. After all, he has not been so good at making use of his own worlds of late.
Despite the barb at the Prince of the Federated Suns, Ya’el agreed. "Neg, he has not."
In fact, have you heard the latest? They are so desperate for troops they have begun selling their worlds piecemeal to any command that will hire with them. The Lexington Combat Group is the first. And they will not be the last.
Ya’el had not, and cocked his head, pondering the ramifications. It is a bold plan. But there is a Gordian Knot there to be sliced. And, if not carefully managed, that entire situation could set many a worlds ablaze.
"Aff, saKhan. I agree. Andreas shrugged, as though it was simply a morsel of information he passed along, free of charge.
It is a good thing we began this program, he continued.
Fast-tracking the building of this interstellar transport hub."
Nice of you to include a ‘we’ in there. Ya’el adjusted slightly in the chair, feeling the metal web through his own one-suit, waiting to