Book 1 - Chapter Eighteen

I should have stayed in bed with the IVs I kept telling myself with a sigh as I hacked my way through the After Action Report one painful paragraph at a time while chewing down the 'food' I had been given.

The food didn't taste anything like as bad as it looked. But its texture …

Mush was definitely the word of the day. So much so I was rather torn on if sneaking out of the hospital and trying to grab something else (at the risk of throwing up all over the place) was a risk worth taking...but after realising my odds of making it past the nurses station was rather low, I sighed and turned my attention back to the cursor blinking on the screen that was refusing to move forward.

The AAR had come with comments by some staff officer directing me what I needed to do, which was both a blessing and a curse. It did lay out exactly what I needed to write up in common sense language, but it also increased what I needed to write up by a factor of about ten over what I should have been forced to write.

It seemed my 'borrowing' of six Battlemechs from the cadet battalion without the slightest command authorisation or authority to do so meant I had to write up a whole fuckload of data about how it happened. As well as Why it happened. And finally who the hell I thought I was to do such a thing without the aforementioned approval.

It also seemed that as I had made myself a de-facto Company Commander, I damn well had to do a Company Commanders writeup for Pappa Company, including a report on each of the Mechwarriors I had shanghaied. Which was actually important because it would become part of their official records.

I would have complained and bitched about the workload ... but the only people I could realistically bitch to were Davions.

And I knew exactly where my complaining would get me with those bloody workaholics.

So there was nothing for it but to keep slogging on. Hour after fucking hour. Keystroke after fucking keystroke...

My memories of the battle were still a little disjointed. I did make a point to stress my admiration for Davud Kudo and his leadership skills. Man had kept his head screwed on straight and shown genuine leadership and personal courage - it took quite significant chutzpah to go hand-to-hand with a Battlemech that outmassed you by twenty tons. The other cadets I tried to highlight the positives as best I could, although I honestly didn't know how Pappa Six and Seven had been disabled and said as much but I did know from the paper that the unit had collectively been credited with taking down Akira's battlemech and Stengovich had gotten another kill shortly after when she had nailed the chest of a beaten up Clint that had failed to see her on the ground or dismissed her as inactive-

"Hiding in the corner isn't going to work forever" a dry voice cut into my concentration and I glanced up with an annoyed sigh from my corner in the mostly empty commissary, planning to tell whoever it was to get lost. Or if they outranked me, to get lost Sir-

"Ben?!" I said instead - and in no small amount of surprise, my annoyance vanishing as if a switch had been thrown. I started to come to my feet but Dr Ben 'Buckaroo' Banzai gestured at me to sit as he limped over. His right lower leg was in a cast (hence the limp) and he was walking with the aid of a metal cane in his right arm. And as he was also dressed with his NAIS lab coat on and still had that damn beard he had been growing over the last few weeks for some reason that had been driving Penny insane …

You know, from this angle, he looked almost bizarrely like Hugh Laurie playing 'Doctor House' from my old Earth days. He even fit the character profile too, come to think of it.

The genius part, not the insufferable lazy asshole part I mean.

"I read the summary of the battle in the paper a few hours back" I said as he didn't quite collapse into his chair with a sigh, feeling myself fidgeting. "Ben … I'm so-"

"I'm a mercenary John" he cut me off firmly. "So are all my people. We chose this life and knew the score going in. And beyond the pay, this time we were fighting for our home. Frankly, that we only lost six people from the Cavaliers is a minor miracle" he said, pausing for a second to shake his head once, his expression turning almost to one of grudging acknowledgement. "You know, Kurita fought this about as clean as you could in an urban slugfest. If we had been facing your typical Sword of Light unit who knew there was no way out, they would have made it a point to put a shot or two into every cockpit of every Mech they took down to make sure we didn't ever get back up. The sheer number of TCLs that didn't result in pilot losses is pretty incredible for fighting the Combine."

I shivered at that thought I tried to meet his gaze, feelingly slightly taken aback by how … casual he seemed to be about the losses, but he in turn sharpened his gaze and I felt anything I had been about to say vanish into nothing as he clearly knew what I was thinking. He held that gaze for a time, before finally speaking up in a lower voice.

"It's always the hardest the first time you lose friends in a battle" he said, simply. "It never gets any easier either … but you do learn that moping around in a corner won't help much either" he added with a gentle yet firm look.

Oh come on I silently protested at his sustained look that made me flinch away and glance down at the computer's screen and the clock on it. I've only been awake less than a day! It's not like I'm going full Kai Allard-Liao … am I?

I paused to consider that. Then shook my head.

No, my emo levels weren't anywhere near that … yet.

So perhaps you should quit while you were ahead John?

"Have … the funerals happened yet?" I asked after swallowing past the unpleasant taste the question brought up as I confronted things head on. Or was that just mush reflux?

"No, they're this Friday" he shook his head once. "There is going to be a service at Notre Dame for all the dead - on our side anyway. ComStar are working with us on the Kuritans and shipping either their bodies or their ashes back to their families."

"Good to see the toaster worshippers are good for something" I scoffed and barely held back a dark comment about being sure ROM had been cheering on House Kurita as they stormed into the NAIS.

There were things, after all, even inside the NAIS, that you simply did not talk about in 'public'.

"Anyway. Not to change the subject completely" Banzai said in using words and a done that made it very clear he was changing the subject completely away from things we probably shouldn't talk about or didn't want to talk about, "but how is this going?" he said, reaching out to lightly tap the noteputer.

I snorted.

"Slowly" was about all I could say to that. BB huffed in amusement.

"I'll bet. Come on let's go to my office, I'll help you finish it off."

"Sounds like a plan" I agreed, not quite vindictively snapping the noteputer closed and converting it into its traveling configuration like a little secure briefcase before a sudden idea popped into my head as I firmly pushed the remains of the food away from me. "I don't suppose you could 'break' me out to the local Tripple F?" I asked in some hope … which was dashed with a chiding look from the Doc.

"The only thing that would be more likely to make you throw up then that would be taking you for a spin in my new hover-racer prototype down at the test track" he shook his head as I followed him out the door. "The drugs they used to keep you out - and those that woke you up for that matter- need the rest of the day to be fully flushed out of your system or you'll throw back up what you eat outside of medicated food in about sixty seconds. Not that most people can keep that fast food crap down for even that long" he added under his breath and I simply rolled my eyes. As incredibly cool as it was to have a friend like BB who looked simultaneously like a Mad Scientist, Cyborg Cop and Section-31 Admiral ... the man was a hell of a food snob.

More so than bluebloods in the Davion Palace!

"Well, put someone to work on fixing that" I muttered, earning an amused huff as we made our way to the lift, both of us walking a little slower than usual, that horrible mush annoyingly seeming to stay down very well indeed when I really wanted to throw it back up.

I mean, why the hell would you spend all that R&D money making horrible food stay down so well ... rather than fixing drugs that made you want to throw up real food??

It crystalized a long held belief of mind that hospital food was as bad as it was entirely to make you want to get better and get the hell out of the hair of the hospital staff.

I stepped into the lift as it arrived and we descended, all the way to the sub basement. There, BB led me through first several secure doors, then manned security checkpoints where our IDs were checked carefully and logged before we were allowed into the rat warren of tunnels under the NAIS. Waiting at this particular gate was one of the golf-cart like vehicles that was the choice of transport around the hundred klicks of tunnels sized for vehicles and we got underway quickly, BB filling me in on what was going up upstairs as we drove.

Apparently the College of Engineering was going to need to be rebuilt from the ground up and the setbacks, especially for a lot of civilian projects, were going to be painful and take years to even begin to rectify. The College of Mining and Metallurgy was going to need half of its buildings reworked but was less impacted, although an out of control fire had gutted most of the College of Chemistry (I'm sure there was a joke there somewhere) which was another major blow. No personnel had been lost outside of the members of Team Banzai and the CMS instructors who had fought with the cadets, but student classes would be delayed by a month until NAIS satellite facilities across the planet (that were being hastily expanded from their original purposes) were ready for classes.

All up, it would be at least a year or two before the physical damage at NAIS was really made good and the second and third order disruptions would last for a year or two beyond that. Which was actually interesting as the paper I had read had been very determined to suggest the disruptions would last for at least five years or even ten. A fact that BB confirmed was the story MIIO was going with. Partially to lay the ground for the next phase of the shadow war with ComStar and partially so Hanse and Katrina could flush a lot more money into the 'rebuilding' program that would be laundered into new black compartments elsewhere. Because you might as well use the opportunity.

But there was no doubting in my mind this was a major setback where every God's damned year we wasted trying to push technology back to the Star League or beyond was another one lost on the doomsday countdown to the Clan invasion.

'You may ask me for anything, but not time' was still just as valid a saying today as it had been in Napoleon's era.

Fucking Snakes.

We talked about the cleanup operations - the actual cleanup would start next week, once the salvage and EOD teams had finished their sweeps, BB looking like he was a little bit glum from what would be needed going forward. Trying to cheer him up, after a moment I eagerly suggested that he should make sure going forward that time-lapse cameras were set to record the cleanup and then new construction. When he asked why, I pointed out that it would be awesome if in a few years from now, when we had the footage, if he and the Hong Kong Cavaliers would release a music video of 'We built this city on rock and roll!' by Starship using it to showcase the NAIS rising from the ashes. Suggesting it needed to include at least one Atlas with an enormous construction hard-hat on its head and painted in black and yellow construction paint cheerfully bobbing along as it ripped down walls and loaded rubble onto dump trucks. Interposed with time skips of the time lapse videos showing the buildings soaring back into the sky and bopping construction Mechs-

At that point BB told me he'd consider it, looking at me like he was wondering if the drugs I had been on were having unexpected side effects.

Pft. Last time I try to cheer him up! And it would have been awesome. 'We built this city on rock and roooooollllll'...

Shortly after that conversation petered out we arrived in BBs office and I got back to work. He was a big help getting me through the report, so much so that at first I didn't notice that he was using this opportunity to walk me through the engagement, offering his straight forward observations of my decision making and actions through the battle. He often found ways to put them into a new context I hadn't quite considered, especially where the cadets were concerned. Critiquing some of my decisions constructively while letting me work through them, praising others and querying me on my insights until I finally realized he was as much debriefing me as helping me write my debriefing.

When it finally clicked and I asked him when Melissa had asked him to step in and check on me he hadn't even shown the slightest hint of being phased by the question. Noting that as Hanse and Melissa were away (with the former to my amusement apparently spending the last four days all but crawling on his belly as he groveled to earn his wife's forgiveness for 'some perhaps rash' decisions in the battle) and Yvonne Davion was busy holding down the fort, Morgan and Ardan were offworld … well, there was a bit of a shortage of qualified people to do the job.

So, yes, she had called him and asked if he would be so kind to check up on me and debrief me to make sure I was okay.

And his final conclusion on the battle?

Simply that if I ever got tired of working for Hanse directly, he would be more than happy to offer me command of a Lance in his unit, with an eye to moving me up to a Company slot as soon as I got up to speed.

Coming from Ben Banzai, who would never offer such a thing lightly or to simply make me 'feel better' … well, it made me feel that maybe, just maybe, I had managed to at least do 'good-enough' by the cadets I had led. Who had fought like true Mechwarriors.

And I finally said as much, falling right into the trap.

Because then he said that it was quite good that I had finally realized that, opening a box at his feet to pull out a small wooden box with a familiar crest of a red Fox inlaid on the lid, as well as a shrink wrapped package of clothes. Giving me a sudden sinking feeling...

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The NAIS had plenty of auditoriums across its campus - which was hardly unsurprising for a place that was, at its heart, a giant university. This one was in the NAIS Base Hospital - one of the four major hospitals on-campus, dedicated to treating AFFS wounded. And while normally the large room would be used for lectures on the latest recovered lostech procedures and technology in treatingwounded soldiers, this time it was actually filled with wounded soldiers.

Specifically; the entire 4th year Mechwarrior Cadet class from the CMS and Albion. Just under two hundred cadets strong in total.

The cadets in the front rows - those who had actually fought- were often sporting bandages and casts of various types. At least two had lost limbs and BB had told me earlier that two more were still in induced comas and so not here.

Plus the four dead members - who had seats deliberately left unfilled, each with a Federated Suns flag draped over it in somber memory. But most of them were here and listening in rapt attention.

Behind those who had fought, the rest of the 4th year cadets sat. Those who had not made the 'cut' to participate in the battle - be it because they didn't own a family Battlemech or, bluntly, because they were not good enough to be allowed to face off against Combine elites yet.

I had feared that the battle would drive a schism right through the cadets. Between those who had fought through the battle and those who had been evacuated to New Scotland, but I was clearly very wrong about that. Marshal Grentha DeBurton, the head of AFFS Education who was the keynote, even spoke to it. She had first warmly congratulated the cadets who had fought in the battle, but then she had addressed the cadets who hadn't fought. Noting that they had passed an arguably more brutal test of character; being ordered to wait on the sidelines while their friends fought for their lives. To follow their orders as their commanders spent the lives of their friends to win the battle, an order they may well have to give sooner than they thought.

But today was clearly primarily about those who had fought.

I had spent a lot of the evening and night lying awake in my bed after heading back to my room, trying to work on what the hell I was going to say to all these people after dismissing the idea of being petulant and telling Hanse to give his own damn speeches. In the end, it was what Janice had said to me that got me writing. Her not-quite mocking me as she pointed out that mere words couldn't have gotten a bunch of terrified 'kids' to charge after me into the fire.

Even now, I was making subtle adjustments on the paper as the event rolled on, fretting a little as I realized this was really, for all intents and purposes, my real introduction to public life and wondering if I was going too far...

A round of applause broke out and I glanced out as I noticed that the Marshal had finished her speech. Her NCO aide, Master Sergeant Dirk Kentrick, moved to the lectern and once the crowd settled, he started to call up the cadets one by one. A couple of them needed a touch of help to get up the stairs but every single one in turn marched up to the Marshal, came to attention, saluted and shook her offered hand before she talked briefly with each of them (without the microphones on, keeping it personal). Then she was handed their spurs by her NCO and presented them to the cadet in question with a handshake and smile.

Some of them (okay, many of them) looked like they were on the verge of crying as they received the coveted item before they turned and saluted all the other officers on the stage, shook the hand and exchanged some more words with their company commander from the battle before having their official picture taken with said Marshal and Commander to the applause of the crowd.

And with that done, the cadet left the stage as the next was called up, the cycle starting all over again.

This unsurprisingly took some time.

The cadets were also being called up in order of their battle call signs. Which meant that everyone noticed when Sergeant Kentrick went from Rumble-13 to Rumble-17, skipping over three members of Rumble Battalion in the audience. Cadet Stengovich whom I had found after searching from my place hidden in the darkness had actually started to stand when the Marshal called out what she thought was her callsign, quickly sitting back down, exchanging glances with the two cadets next to her who had been also skipped over … and the three more further down the line as they were also skipped in turn.

Their combined 'oh crap' looks were actually somewhat amusing as it was obvious they were being skipped to be singled out for 'special attention'.

Two words no Cadet ever ever wanted to hear from an Officer. Let alone a Flag Officer.

I took a moment to check my reflection one last time in a convenient mirror as Rumble-31 hobbled off stage and couldn't help but frown slightly as I adjusted my collar. The jacket was pressing down a little bit uncomfortably over the bandages on my shoulder, even if the painkillers were taking care of what would have otherwise probably been a distracting throbbing. The dress uniform itself was utterly plain; with nothing except the red shoulder boards that identified me as a Lieutenant and a Mechwarrior - well the color and the spurs on my boots for that matter - on it. But that was it.

It was in fact the absolute minimum you could wear and still be in compliance with AFFS regulations.

I had a strong feeling that most people who looked at me would just assume I was hiding my real identity rather than genuinely being a complete noob who hadn't even earned a single decoration in my life. It was a common move by DMI officers to deny the enemy information after all. Even more so because my sunburst vest and trousers weren't the blue/grey colour of the standard AFFS dress uniform ... but a brilliant white.

That was a privilege exclusive to one Brigade alone - and only when their regiment was home onNew Avalon.

The Davion Brigade of Guards.

And you didn't get into the Brigade without either being the hottest damn Mechwarrior in your graduating class, or, being a combat veteran with a lot of experience.

Of course, no-one had actually bothered to tell me I was a member of said brigade until BB had handed over the uniform. I was, in fact, about ninety nine percent sure I hadn't been a member of the 1st Davion - or any AFFS line unit for that matter. But it seemed someone had tweaked my service jacket while I was unconscious to show I had been part of the 1st Davion all along.

Now, if that was to make Hanse look a little less stupid by technically being able to claim that a member of the 1st Davion Guards had heroically saved him and thus they hadn't 'outsourced' in their primary duty (above and beyond even the rest of the Brigade) of keeping the First Prince alive?

Or perhaps the Davion Guards simply wanted the glory of my suicidal charge appended to them?

Well, who the hell knew.

…

Okay, Hanse knew I suppose, but he wasn't talking. And would probably do that annoying 'just as planned' smirk if I had bothered to bulldoze my way through MILNET to ask him, before hanging up on me. Although it was rather vexing to me that I hadn't been told this until after I had finished my report; I could have saved a lot of typing if I could have written 'First Princes Company in 1st Davion Guards, deal with it' as my justification for doing whatever it took to save Hanse Davion. They -we- could get away with that a lot more than other units.

In any event I now marched out onto the stage once the Marshal looked over at me and nodded, the footsteps of my polished boots almost deafening in the silence. My head held high. I couldn't see anything looking straight ahead as I was, but I did hear a reaction. Sort of a massed intake of breath?

Or perhaps that was just the air conditioning and I was overthinking things and letting my ego get away from me.

In any event, I came to a halt before the Marshal and snapped a salute to her and by extension the other officers behind her. It was returned both immediately -and with frankly far too much respect in the length they held it for given our respective ranks - before they released it. That done, the Marshal gestured me wordlessly towards the podium and I moved there, handing the polished box I was carrying off to the Sergeant who accepted it, letting me reach up and click the button on the small microphone clipped to my collar, turning it on as I finally let my gaze sweep the crowd before me, slightly taken aback when I saw them all staring at me.

Okay, I think I had their attention. Now to see if I could keep it with this frankenstein's monster of a speech I've pieced together.

"Alone" I dropped the word without warning, letting it ring through the room.

I mean it wasn't anywhere near as awesome as whoever Zeratul's voice actor had been in 'Legacy of the Void' mind you, but I think it worked well as an opening to grab attention.

"It is said that Mechwarriors stand alone on the battlefield" I continued "and there is some truth in that. To equal a single light Mech, it takes by conventional reckoning at least a platoon of conventional infantry, with the right weapons. Standing side by side and working together to become something much greater and far more deadly than the mere sum of their parts. Covering each other, fighting for each other, spilling their blood in the mud as titans brawl around them for only together can they hope to project a similar level of power."

I let that sink in for about two seconds, reminding everyone hopefully of just what it took to be a PBI in the 31st century before continuing.

"The same is true for a tank," I carried on smoothly. "Armor might very well match the destructive force of a Battlemech with its own tactical advantages and disadvantages, but a tank can only be fought by a crew. Artillery? Still the King of the Battlefield after thousands of years, doubt that and you will die very quickly. Yet it is reliant on an entire Kingdom of people all the way from the front lines to the logistics depot to bring its terrible power to bear effectively and accurately."

Still had the attention of the entire cadet corps, so I sharpened my gaze slightly accordingly as I focused it in on all the newly minted Mechwarriors directly in front of me.

"A Mechwarrior is not unique because of some greater level of courage or heightened nobility or superior skill" I said, now letting my tone drop. "And anyone who thinks any of those things needs to stand up, hand back their spurs and walk out of this room, right now" I said rather more harshly, daring anyone to do so with my gaze.

Okay. I might have been crossing a line here. I knew full well there were those -even in the AFFS- who did think that Mechwarriors were just plain better people than other soliders ... but you know, fuck em. 

The better ones utterly disdained such stupidity and the Prince's rather vague instructions had been 'tell them what they need to know'.

So I would. And if Hanse didn't like it?

Well, Hanse Davion of all people should know better than to give me open-ended orders like that!

Unsurprisingly, none of the cadets stood to approach me, so it seemed none of them were keen on giving their spurs back.

Amusingly I thought I even saw a couple of cadets sort of clutch them closer at my ultimatum.

"So then" I continued with a tilt of my head. "What makes Mechwarriors unique in the annals of ground warfare? I'll give it to you in one word. Trust."

Okay, now I think I could see a couple of the officers in the audience nodding. Good sign!

"Cadets, understand clearly that it is the sheer trust that is extended to us that sets us apart from the rest of our peers in the Armed Forces. We are given command of the most uniquely flexible and lethal killing machine ever devised, in the history of war - and we are given the authority to use it on and in trust. Because once we're sealed up, alone inside that cockpit … it's all on us" I said, punctuating those three words with raps of my knuckles on the lectern that thudded like a drum around the room. "There are no checks on our actions, bar those we bring with us once the neurohelmet is on. These spurs you have been given are not simply decorations out of some quaint nod to the ancient cavalry; they are the symbol of your promise to the people of the Federation. Of a pact that you have now made. Not simply that you will use this weapon in their defense, but that you will think and you will adapt and you will leadwhile doing so because there is no-one else in that cockpit to hold your hand and do it for you."

It was of course to a large degree pure ego, but it was also more true than some people liked to admit. The very existence of Pirates in Battlemechs preying on the fringes of civilization was proof of that. A single Battlemech in even half decent repair could give a single person otherwise unprecedented ability to cause misery, death and destruction in the 31st century on a lot of planets.

Or conversely, a single BattleMech could give a single person the chance to make a bigger difference than at any time before in military history. And when they did...

"All of this, of course, brings me to the reason I am here today with you" I continued after an appropriate pause, getting my tone back to business-like. "Among you there are six cadets who have vindicated that trust in a quite spectacular fashion. Six cadets, who showed resourcefulness, devotion, leadership, and sheer toughness more in line with what might be expected from veterans in the Davion Guards. Cadets whose actions directly helped save the First Prince himself and allowed us to carry the day for the Federated Suns. Cadets who it was my privilege and honor to lead back into the fight and they are cadets Stengovich, Taylor, Bixby, Kudo, Hall and Raji. Cadets; front and centre please" I ordered and with that the cadets in question stood and made their way, as quickly as they could, an immediate spontaneous round of applause and cheers from their peers chasing them up onto the stage. A curt gesture from the Master Sergeant had them forming a line facing my podium and I studied them all carefully.

They seemed to be trying to be as calm and serious as a cadet should be in such a situation with this many officers in close proximity ... but were betraying their simultaneous excitement and terror in a dozen different ways as they looked back at me. And I had to ruthlessly shove aside my first impulse of again decrying them as kids, given how young they looked.

Instead as the crowd quietened, I turned to face them, hefting the official bits of paper and unfolding them, calling Attention to Orders and - what the...

I had not anticipated the officers on the stage to my left snapping to attention like that … or the entire crowd of cadets and staff in the audience getting to their feet quick-smart too. Along with the six cadets of course.

Huh. Looks like I really needed to review my AFFS regulations, That … wasn't actually what I thought that meant …

But for now, I just rolled with it.

Hell, it certainly looked more impressive anyway.

"Pursuant to AFFS Field Directive Three Zero Two Nine dash Six Six One Two dash Echo Four" I read, holding the very high quality paper up clearly. "It is the decision of The Marshal of the Armed Forces of the Federated Suns that Cadets Michelle Stengovich, Justin Taylor, James Bixby, Davud Kudo, Alexia Hall and Miguel Raji are to be granted the active status of fully qualified Mechwarriors of the Armed Forces of the Federated Suns."

It sounded like - and was - standard AFFS text really …

Except for the words 'The Marshal of the Armed Forces of the Federated Suns'.

There was exactly one person who went by the title of 'The Marshal of the Armed Forces of the Federated Suns' as opposed perhaps to being a Marshal of the AFFS. And from the way all six Cadets seemed to somehow grow a few centimeters in height in realtime, each of them had realized it as well. And with the almost a whisper of hushed awe through the room as much felt as heard … well their comrades got it too.

"I have in my career with the AFFS been privileged to witness many examples of heroism in the field" I continued to read Hanse Davions letter - thankfully printed and not handwritten, the man had frigen horrific handwriting! "However, I must note I have never witnessed a half dozen cadets charging out of a treeline, with all guns blazing, to throw themselves without hesitation or equivocation at the most elite of the DCMS. Yet as impressive as such courage was to watch, I must state for the record that I found significantly greater reason to justify awarding the coveted title of Mechwarrior upon you all in the actions you as a group took when confronted with Lieutenant John Smith earlier in the evening."

I had to pause here to fight the twitch trying to fight its way onto my face at the next lines, but managed to keep it to a dry sort of smirk.

"No Cadet Stengovich" I continued, glancing at her briefly, "I do not mean your attempt to shoot him when you saw he was heading right at you - although I confess that there has been many a day those of us in High Command have been tempted to do exactly that" I read and paused to allow the entire room to loudly snicker and laugh (at me I hoped, giving the poor cadet a wry shrug that I hoped told her I wasn't holding any kind of grudge over that whole thing) before moving on.

"Specifically, I refer to the moment each of you chose to disregard your last orders and instead followed Lieutenant Smith back into the fire. The truth is that neither I nor the AFFS want Casper Drones. We want soldiers - soldiers who think. To be a Mechwarrior on the battlefield makes you the ultimate arbiter of your own choices - and far too many of our peers through history have failed to stand up and be counted when it counted. That all six of you could do so before even graduating? That gives me the greatest of hopes of the kind of character both you and the rest of your years classmates will be bringing to the AFFS in the years ahead.

Accordingly, I salute all six of you, Mechwarriors all and will be watching your careers with great interest going forward. For now, I leave it to Lieutenant Smith to present the symbols of your status to you along with some small tokens of my personal thanks for your actions in the battle. Signed" I finished, glancing up and folding the paper closed, "Hanse Davion. Duke of New Avalon, Marshal of the Armed Forces of the Federated Suns, First Prince of the Federated Suns".

I flat out refused to use his 'First Lord of the Star League' title - and given that he had not put it on said paper, I think he knew that too. But even without it, the cadets were looking like each of them had just reached down and picked up Mjolnir off the ground or something, the looks on their faces…

I stepped up first to Cadet Stengovich as I told the room to stand easy, the cadet snapping a perfect salute that she held until I returned it. I turned and found Sergeant Kentrick already at my side like the hyper-competent NCO I knew he was, with the box open to show its contents and so I - very carefully- picked out her spurs. No different from the same spurs the other cadets had been awarded … except for the fact that they were hers.

"Cadet Stengovich" I greeted her with a slight nod. "By the order of the First Prince, you are hereby authorized to assume you place on the roster of qualified and active duty MechWarriors of the Armed Forces of the Federated Suns, effective immediately" I said, presenting her the spurs. She reached out to take the spurs, her hands ever so slightly shaking as she grasped them.

She didn't even try to reach up and wipe away the couple of tears rolling down her face as she stared at the spurs, then closed her hands around them like I had just given her the Davion Crown Jewels.

"Tha...thank you Sir" she replied in a voice thick with emotion.

"Congratulations" I smiled before letting my tone shift slightly as I held out a hand (without breaking eye contact) to my left, the highly competent NCO standing there immediately placing the appropriate envelope into it said hand. "Now, I know your Battlemech was crippled in the fighting" I observed and like I had just flung a bucket of ice water at her face, her expression shifted into something far more serious.

"Yes Sir" she agreed, clearly bracing herself, but determined to face what she thought would be the dreaded D-Word head on. And I admired her poise. This would be fun.

"Accordingly, Prince Davion has authorized a full factory refit and repair of your Blackjack -at his expense- to a new advanced-technology upgraded variant" I said, handing over the sealed envelope and her jaw finally dropped in shock, the young woman staring at me numbly for a few seconds before something in her head rebooted and she managed to take the envelope from me. "It'll probably be at least four to six months before the work is done mind you but the simulation module should be uploaded to your profile within a day or two so you can at least take a virtual tour of your new 'Mech."

The look of stunned surprise mixing with incredibly powerful relief was confronting. I suspected that since that battle she had been wondering if she was going to be that person on the family tree who lost the Family Mech due to her decision to follow me instead of RTBing like she had been told.

Turned out, rewarding leal service was very much a thing in a neo-feudal society - and when you managed to help save the First Prince? Well...

Luckily the Marshal a few steps away covered for Stengovich's near catatonic state by starting to applaud and the entire room joined in at once, significant cheering and whooping coming from the cadets and buying her enough time to try and get some of her composure back.

"Sir … I … " she paused and showed considerable poise to take a breath and take her time before continuing. "Sir, all I can say is that I can only hope to prove worthy of the First Prince's incredible generosity" she said, unable to hide the tremor of raw emotion in her voice.

"You already have, Mechwarrior" I assured her with a smile - dammit, that just shut her down again - so I decided that was more than enough and took a step back, ordering her to stand at ease (and I couldn't notice the difference in her stance) as I stepped up to the next cadet.

I mildly chided Cadet Justin Taylor over his jump jet skills - even though ramming his Javelin into the side of the building the way he did wasn't really his fault. But we -and the room- all got a good laugh out of it anyway and he was a good sport about it. And his jaw dropped when I told him he was, compliments of the Archon Katrina Steiner, getting a mech without Jump Jets - or ammo that might explode like had happened to him- in a brand new Wolfhound. A revelation that got quite an impressed 'ohhhh!' mixed with approving whistles from the audience.

The Wolfhounds had generated an even better reputation in this timeline if that was at all possible, mostly thanks to Katrina shoving twenty eight of the thirty extended-range large lasers that had been 'loose' in the Helm cache into her first production run, along with every Freezer she had been able to scrape up. The DCMS had apparently named these advanced-technology units (mostly concentrated in the 2nd and 3rd Royal Guards) 'Oni' after ancient Japanese Demons, their reputation blown all out of proportion as they confronted the DCMS light Mechs and tore them to pieces. Andrew Redburn had personally trained these lightning companies, attached to the 1st, 2nd and 3rd Royal Guards and they were proving themselves more than worthy of the faith placed in them and doing a great deal to obliterate the meme that Lyrans and Light Mechs simply didn't mix.

And in fact starting a whole new meme about 'Oh shit, the Lyrans learned to use Light Mechs, it's the 3rd sign of the Apocalypse!' according to BB.

Of course Katrina hadn't actually sent Taylor a Mech; his was one of the very first shipment of twelve Wolfhounds the AFFS had ordered from TharHes that had finally arrived on New Avalon. Nominally slated for delivery to the Swift Foxes (and some Light Guards pilot was probably going to be crying himself to sleep when only 11 arrived) but the Archon had been more than happy to send a message 'gifting' the Battlemech, with her compliments, 'to the man who had helped keep her son-in-law alive'. Surely something that would be framed and kept for centuries by his family.

Cadet Kudo was next in line and I was very happy to see him. He had managed to wrestle Akira Brahe to the ground and held him there with his Shadow Hawk for a short time. Said short time turned out to be long enough for one of the reinforcement Victors from Team Banzai to arrive and put a foot on the Orions toso just as he managed to throw Kudos mech off, the Merc placing the gaping maw of the Pontiac 100 autocannon against the Samurais cockpit in an unspoken message that either he powered down now, or, came down with a terminal case of heavy metal poisoning.

I was actually mildly surprised Akira had chosen to surrender - but I didn't think he'd be joining the Kell Hounds in this reality.

Honestly I didn't know what Hanse planned to do with the Kuritan POWs.

In any event, as Davud Kudo hadn't lost his Battlemech he didn't get a new one … but he did get a full blown upgrade package to a new variant that looked, on paper at least, to be a considerable improvement over the stock model Shadow Hawk. Even that might have seemed a bit of a weak reward for someone who had probably saved Hanse Davions life by preventing Akira from charging over and avenging his father, but that was the second surprise when I casually noted that also in the envelope were also the papers confirming the Prince had brought out the considerable loans his family were working their buts off to repay - and promptly waived them.

Meaning the Mech was now truly his.

From what BB had told me, the man's family had paid a pretty penny for the Shadow Hawk, his family being a Mechwarrior House that had truly seen better days. Through sheer bad luck on the battlefield, they had lost several family members and their Mechs from the previous generation, leaving them putting most of their holdings on the line as collateral for the loans to buy a Battlemech for Davud, rather than risk having their titles stripped from them by not being able to provide a Mech to their Baron and, by extension, the AFFS as was required by their ancient pacts.

The silent tears the man let come down his face without the slightest shame openly suggested to me that House Kudo of Cerulean would be fanatic in its loyalty to House Davion for a very long time.

Cadet Bixby was next - and while he had lost his Firestarter in the battle, he didn't seem terribly put out about it given that in return I informed him he was being granted a salvaged Combine Hunchback Four Pappa (which I thought was highly appropriate!); the most infamous of all 'Swaback' Battlemechs.

And a personal favourite of mine to boot.

What he didn't know (but his papers would tell him) was that this one was going to be further modified and rebuilt with both extra weapons and enough Freezers to use them to the point that it looked like NAIS had tried to rip off a Clan Nova.

Seriously, they had even added Jump Jets to the design.

I mean, it might not have the raw damage output of the Clan Mech, but it was actually more useful insomuch that pushing the Alpha Strike button wouldn't immediately risk the Battlemech lighting its artificial muscles on fire or knocking the pilot unconscious through heat stroke. And the almost gleeful look on the man's face (every Firestarter pilot was a pyromaniac at heart after all) suggested that he was gleefully pleased with the idea of the heat he could lay downrange with the thing.

Next came Cadet Raji who was also getting a new Battlemech from the DCMS Salvage - which was a bit of an irony given that his previous Mech was also DCMS Salvage his grandfather had managed to -somehow- claim as a PBI. He was being mated with an ex-DCMS Phoenix Hawk. A much slower Mech than his Jenner, but also much more heavily armed and armored. Like everyone else he was getting an upgrade and besides the ubiquitous Freezers, his large laser was being replaced with an extended-range PPC like the ones in my mech.

Actually, to be very specific, exactly like the ones in my Mech - because it was the PPC from my right arm that hadn't been torn to pieces in my Battlemechs detonation. One of the only two guns to have landed a hit on Yoringa Kurita himself that day in fact!

The shocked cadet had actually tried to refuse the 'gift', clearly thinking it was far too much for him to take the Lostech weapon from me (yeah like I could frigen put it in my back pocket - what the hell did I need an ERPPC for?!) until I pointedly told him that the correct words were 'Thank you Sir' and he instantly got the message. Promising with almost disturbing intensity to use it well, in my name.

Smiling as best as I could to not feel awkward at the mans almost fanatic enthusiasm, I moved onto the final cadet; Alexia Hall, whose Valkyrie had been flayed open like a tin can after an insane insane DCMS Archer pilot had partially pulled off a DFA by dropping off a building right on top of her and detonating his magazines. It would have been child's play for Hanse to get her a Valkyrie from the factory on New Avalon of course, but instead he had ordered Achernar BattleMechs to turn over one of the three DV-6Md Dervish Battlemechs from Helm that had been in their test labs. The Mech had been secretly used as a proof of concept for refitting the new production Freezers the Lyrans were making for the Federated Suns into an XL engine and while there had been some trouble, they had figured it out eventually and NAIS had asked for the machine back.

And now it belonged to Alexia.

I hoped she would use it well. It was certainly quite a step up from her Valkyrie, with a third again the missile throw weight and several times the close in firepower to boot!

With that all finished I told the room to take a seat and Marshal DeBurton stepped forward to take her pictures with me and each cadet, only for a rather shy Cadet Stengovich to ask if she could have her 'Mechwarrior' picture be all of us - and the Marshal - together. A suggestion immediately seconded by the other cadets who looked very excited at the idea.

Slightly nonplused, I followed standard procedures I had been taught and immediately referred all decision making to the Flag Officer - who it turned out had no problem with that idea at all. So it was that the Marshal and I stood in the centre, with three cadets flanking us to each side holding their spurs with great pride as the picture was taken before we all shook hands.

Then should have come ushering them off stage, except-

"Sir - permission to ask a question?" Cadet Stengovich finally blurted out at me after a round of the Cadets all making 'You ask' - 'No, you ask!' eyes at each other.

I raised an eyebrow, mildly amused - and impressed - by their impudence.

"You certainly may ask me, Cadet. I can't guarantee I can or will answer though" I hedged and she nodded, her eyes intent.

"Sir - speaking for all of us" she gushed and with a glance back every other cadet, all of whom nodded enthusiastically, "we … would like to request to serve under your command once we've graduated. Sir!"

I blinked. And blinked again at the sheer eagerness in their eyes. Um....

"Uh - I am honored Cadets, but I don't actually have a combat billet at this time. For that matter" I laughed suddenly as the thought occurred, "I don't even have a Battlemech anymore."

"But … surely Prince Davion will replace your-" Cadet Bixby started to protest in a tone of mild outrage, only for a loud clearing of a throat from the Marshal next to me to shut the man up like she had fired a warning shot in the air.

Bixby's face flushed red, clearly understanding he had just walked right up to a line he did not want to cross.

One did not question the First Prince as a Cadet at formal ceremonies like this.

"Apologies sir, I was out of line" he said and I took pity on him as I smiled slightly.

"Cadet" I explained, "if I truly need a Battlemech to do my job, I'm sure Prince Davion will organize one for me. But if I do not need a Battlemech, I also see no point in keeping one out of the hands of a soldier on the front lines simply so I can brag about having one" I flatly declared, feeling a sudden surge of disbelief and confusion throughout the room at my completely casual indifference to the HORRORS OF DISPOSSESSION and seeing it in the uncomprehending eyes of the cadets.

So I sighed and decided to confront it head on.

"And to all of you who both earned their spurs this day or will do so shortly" I said, raising my gaze to sweep the cadets and stare down any looking at me in disbelief and making them flinch away. "If you have learned nothing else from me today, then I would ask you to learn this. A Battlemech, be it owned by your family or simply assigned to you by the AFFS, is an incredible thing for any Mechwarrior to be responsible for. But if you are not enough without one … I can promise you that you will never, ever be enough with one."

I think it missed something coming from me and not John Candy. But the point was made.

I turned back back to the six cadets and I offered them each a final firm nod. "Pappa Company, it was an honor and a privilege to lead you into battle. Very, very nice work Mechwarriors" I smiled at them - and without so much as a sideways glance, all six of them snapped to attention and in perfect unison, saluted me.

I returned the salute before now turning to face the Marshal and saluting her.

She returned my salute crisply - and gave me the smallest of nods and smiles suggesting that she wasn't going to give me a failing grade to Hanse (and coming from the head Principal of the entire AFFS, that was a big deal!) and with that, I spun on a heel and marched offstage. Literally - and I hoped figuratively as well - out of the spotlight again.

Exiting the amphitheater and carefully avoiding the luncheon being set up in the hall outside, I knew I was supposed to head back upstairs to wait for the hospital people to formally discharge me. At which point, some DMI people would be around to pick me up and take me to the Fox's Den where apparently more meetings awaited me.

Many many more meetings.

All to be frank … I was over this shit. And despite having a week of sleep behind me, I needed a frigen break.

So instead, I headed into a room where I had stashed my kitbag and rapidly changed out of my dress uniform and into some civilian clothes I had swiped from another soldier's room upstairs. They fit pretty well actually (I'd organize to have them replaced later) and then taking only my various IDs with me, I strolled out of the building into the morning sun. An hour later I was getting off the rather full shuttle bus service running between NAIS and the city with the underground train lines still shut down.

Smiling as I felt more free then I had in a while, I vanished into the surprisingly bustling urban jungle, entirely determined to find the nearest dive bar to vanish into for a while.