Sakhara 1.2​

Sakhara 1.2​He had tossed his blazer on the counter, and the coffee machine was going. He needed the caffeine... frankly he needed to not be in the dorms... he needed more space as it was he could hear his downstairs neighbors making a ruckus with some kind of wall riveting synth pop.

His kind of sort of living room was a mess of low coffee tables, throw pillows, a power strip and the electronics that were the norm of the future eighties... including his landline esque home phone. It was charitably a disaster zone that befitted a college bachelor. It was made even worse by a couple of ugly cardboard boxes, and folders of papers, and at the moment a number of large rocks sitting on his coffee table, but it wasn't as if he was expecting company... and what people didn't see where the invisible to all but him floating digital gamer screens.

Germanium was the stuff in jump cores. It was also used in various other industrial processes but mostly it was the JumpCore that it was famous for. It was expensive stuff reaching due to market conditions two thousand c bills an ounce... which was fucking absurd.

... also why the fuck they used ounce escaped him. He was still utterly appalled at how much Germanium cost on the open market... even if it was to his direct benefit. He dropped the crystalline mass on the table in disgust with the other samples.

This was necessary... dig this stuff out of the ground sell some of it... maybe a couple hundred tons a year if they could find buyers otherwise recycle germanium into the essence and build more with the Essence. That was one of the interesting things. Germanium was one of those things that didn't have BV value, but had a stupidly high price per ounce.

He did some quick mental math and grumbled to himself. The small factory units were pricy, and he'd need fifty of them, and the even bigger brothers of those were even more expensive... and he'd need thirty of those...

But there was a way around that! Even the big ones only cost a bit over 1.25 B C-Bills. That wasn't so bad. The Star Lord Jump ship model of 2841 had a cost of 2.391 B C-Bills + but only had a BV of 615. It was completely absurd. He could get all the SFUs he needed from getting rid of just one star lord, and still have money left over

His Isekai Cheat Power really was broken. As for the crews that was easy he didn't have to spawn crews for a vehicle, and he'd also need trained personnel too for when they could actually start really building JumpShips.

He was glad the landhold was on mineral rich Sakhara though. People would believe that he found Germanium, and believe that he'd invest the proceeds into things and that any settlers who showed up were just here to work on the nobles estate... and all that other neo feudal stuff while he the errant young noble did mechwarrior stuff and left things to his commercially minded retainers.

He certainly wasn't going to advertise he was actually responsible for the JumpShips magical appearance... but still those MFUs were going to be expensive. Even with cheat powers. He'd really have to look to see if he couldn't cheese more... perhaps ... yes he'd find something that was cheap that provided about 1700 BV and pay for it using C-Bills.

After some searching well the F 77 Deathstalker seemed to fit the bill. The eighty ton attack fighter had a BV 1714, but only cost 4.84 M C bills... and of course he could probably have cheesed things even more by spawning individual parts. The Clan Tyre Attack Fighter though was only 2.868 Million C Bills and was a whopping ridiculous absurad 1852 BV damned clanner technology was BV chonky but if it wasn't a mech it seemed... it made him want to vomit... but this would do it... he'd invest in his landhold and be a productive member of the Federated Suns...

The math sort of bore out that he might not have really needed to loot the corpses of the second sword of light on Halstead station, but he wasn't going to bring it up and certainly wasn't going to apologize, it was done.

Still they were talking about ... so much money it made his head hurt... and...

There was a chime on the door of his apartment / dorm. It was already well after dark, Sakhara for all its storied name and what not... that was really all high humanity marketing. The entire name conventions of the planet and its moons were attempts by anglo-american colonists of the the 24th​century to sound more impressive than the desert world was... the result was that yes there were wide ranging deserts abundant mineral wealth... and the planetary rulers in the early 24th​ century had consciously modelled architecture and after an idealized Egypt of yore...

... the problem was that they were 24th​ century Terrans so it was a massive kitbash of 19th​ century colonial Egypt in parts... right down to the local tourist traps fashion arrangements with a mishmash of what they thought high tech egyptian esque things should look like, mixed with typical normal late 20th​ century art deco sky scrapers which had been popular at that particular time on Terra... but as was typical with founding colonial populations some things had stuck, and some things had been reinforced by the anglo-normative traditions and stylings of the Federated Suns who had come to rule over the planet by the end of the 25th​ century

In short everyone dressed like they all lived in the British empire or an idealized version there of.

He slid the door open to look at Justin Allard holding his busted nose, bleeding down the front of his school uniform. He sighed, "Yes, yes do come in." He replied, "No, this way." He grabbed the slightly older teenage mechwarriors arm and navigated him to the couch, "No stop leaning your head back, lean forward, yeah like that." He instructed, "Hold there."

Towel, ice from the small refrigerator... and the nagging consideration that as kind of sort of an instructor he ought to be keelhauling the senior cadet for fighting... the latter was something of a moot point because half an hour later, after Justin's nose stopped bleeding the student council president showed up looking irritated and out of breath... or out of breath and exasperated at the two of them.

That was before she noticed the hunks of Germanium and diamonds and other previous rocks on the table that had been dug out of his land hold. He looked at the ores, and geological specimens, and dropped on to the couch nearest the kitchenette. "Eh," He grunted. Wasn't Justin Allard getting into a fight with some other noble mechwarrior the bigger problem here?

--

There were 365 days in a year discounting leap years where February got an extra one. The Terran calendar remained the norm as a away to measure and organize things. Every day he had 25 BV added to his supply. So a year equated to a little over nine thousand... 9125 specifically. In other words that just focusing on such an accruement it would have taken a disgusting three years to accrue the BV for just the Small Factory units... he didn't even want to consider the more expensive medium units.

It was absolutely appalling to have to weight that long so he'd cheese that by recycling purchases, and moving money around. It was really more the matter of telling people he'd be doing big things that was was another.

... thus by sacrificing a Star Lord well he'd have the building block to start the ball rolling on providing a new JumpShip Yard to House Davion... but he wasn't stupid enough to send such a notification to the Duke of Robinson, never mind all the way to New Avalon. Trust ComStar, hah never! He'd never do such a thing.

Actually he had a plan that well... probably not full proof, but one that he hoped would work to defer some if not necessarily all the suspicion away from his actions. He needed to increase his noble standing. He would be able to pass off his mineral wealth from his Sakhara land hold as providing the raw resources for the JumpShips to be built, but maybe he needed somewhere else... find somewhere like Lockdale or Fable... but the former was very close to Terra. If he laid claim to it on the basis of sudden industrial wealth... it would surely create a cluster fuck and all kinds of attention because while people might believe he'd really lucked out finding something on a former hegemony provincial capital they'd probably try and attack.

Fable was more comfortably in Davion Space, but it was also in the Capellan March, ugh... and it was one thing to have a small landhold on Sakhara having nominally a whole planet, and with a shitheel traitor like Hasek nearby... he'd need to have more personnel

... he needed to be a more proper feudal noble... less business less venture capitalist. His grimace deepened as he continued to stare out the window. That again just brought him back to his annual BV accumulation... nine thousand BV meant ... well by itself was a lance of mechs... or could be about a lance. It was as if the whole system was designed to be exploitable... he really was an isekai character with a ridiculous cheat power.

He hastily willed the stat sheet closed as the door opened, and a painfully English looking mustachioed AFFS Colonel came in. The vice chancellor was a staid, boring, all around mostly competent fellow... but not much fun. He wasn't surprised at all that Don Juan, his middle name was actually Juan, had suddenly developed the appearance of a raccoon. Both of his eyes were ringed with deep black bruising, that were frankly painful to behold.

It really would have been different, or so Colonel Coleridge claimed, if it wasn't so bloody obvious that the boys had tussled about... never mind that they'd done it brazenly in public. He repeated that it was a disgrace more than once as well... such that don juan looked pretty suitably chastised about the whole affair... which would have been good if Justin's temper wasn't threatening to get the better of him right here in front of the vice chancellor.

There wasn't much he could really see doing here. If he pushed too hard the vice chancellor might decide he was more student than guest lecturer at the moment, and that he wasn't old enough or mature enough to be objective about these sorts of disciplinary issues.... he nededed to find a solution to this.

His fingers twitched, the scrolling through his gamer screen sped up. "Well I," He'd ended up biting the bullet and blathering off at the mouth about special course work and bringing Sakhara's training battalions back up to par...

... which was a nice way of saying he'd invited the cadets to come see his land hold and be amazed at how fabulously wealthy 'the Rabid Fox' was.

He had long since stopped trying to convince them Rabid Fox was the name of his mech, and not his call sign... people refused to listen and insisted on referring to him as the Rabid Fox because of his 'crazy' last stand that turned out not to be a last stand... or that he'd gotten in close and literally pummeled Yorinaga Kurita's warhammer into scrap killing the Kuritan colonel in the process. So he was 'the Rabid Fox'... even the nickname really annoyed him no one especially not anyone in the 7th​ Crucis Lancers, or an annoying Major in the Robinson Rangers in particular would ever let him live it down.

"And this," he waved his arms after having dismounted his 70 ton Rabid Fox B, which most people just assumed was some weird los tech star league marauder variant given the general hull layout. "Is our Mech refurbishment center." He declared as the warehouse style lighting illuminated the cavernous underground interior.

There were a few semi enthusiastic noises of interest and such, but hardly a wowed crowd... but he wasn't expecting that. The array of mech cubicles were not too different from the academy's. Indeed neither were the vehicle cubicles... he had weighed carefully ideas about Sabre production, or introducing the myrmidon medium tank as well... but not yet.

When Ian had enfeefed him he hadn't immediately just magiked a bunch of JumpShips out of thing heir, but rather had had them trickle in allegedly from the periphery. Total nonsense of course, he'd magiked them out of thin air but he had had to carefully weigh how to use the BV from harvesting the dead souls of the second sword of light who had been recycled on Halstead station... but the Federated Suns preferred to consider the realistic explanation of out of the periphery mechwarrior knight errant.

He was going to gamble that they'd rather take that step, and not look too hard at a cluster of Centurions, and Trebuchet BattleMechs... mostly because they were fucking cheap ish. It actually hurt him more to plan for the expenditure of a union... which had involved yet more 'creative accounting' as he thought of it. With a turn away from the cadets and his seventy ton clan mech he wondered what things would have been like if he had ended up in the Lyran commonwealth... but whatever he was just going to keep digging this hole.

"What I want of you is an evaluation of how you perform against a uniform hostile medium BattleMech force." He declared still not facing them. "This is not a typical engagement. Its not supposed to be. Its to evaluate how you react to atypical scenarios." He could feel the eyes burrowing into his back, curiosity, and some annoyance... it wasn't as if he didn't have a reputation for being an eccentric. He'd play into that reputation. He waved at them to look around, "I'm going to go find Vice Chancellor Coleridge, make yourselves comfortable, the sergeant will show you to the simulators." He left them with the bald man, and headed up the stairs.

There was nothing special about the mechs. Nothing at all. They were completely standard BattleMechs really. It was the pilots who were the real feature. Unlike in table top where BV value increased with better pilots vehicles had the option to at no additional cost to him come crewed, and he wanted to see how they handled facing experienced pilots.

It took a couple of minutes to get to the side area where he was promptly ambushed by a woman in late middle age dressed in civilian attire. He shoved his hands in his pockets, but straightened, "Ah," He squawked in response to her sudden question while the cadets got ready, "Well I really don't have any expectations about how they'll do with regards to this test. Thats rather the point, I want them to go into this with no pre conceived notions about the fight."

Coleridge looked at him but didsn't speak up. He was scare of whoever this was. The woman continued to ask questions, "Do you think Lady Alexandria can win this engagement?"

He wasn't stupid, he noticed how Colonel Coleridge the Academy's vice chancellor was squirming and he hadn't missed how the noblewoman hadn't introduced herself... which... she looked familiar but Ian had introduced him to a bunch of people, at Hanse's wedding, to too many people for him to keep track... "I think both units have the ability to win. The purpose," This wasn't some inane half assed kobayashi maru test of ha you were always meant to fail, "Isn't to be an impossible test... if that was the point well... its not," He trailed off before he said something stupid like sending an entire company of Warhammers to fight them or something otherwise dumb. "I don't expect this to be easy, but I expect them to acquit themselves well."

Field Marshal Yvonne Davion settled into watch... what unfortunately proved to be somewhat embarrassing for the cadets as a company of late Star League Defense Pilots proceeded to demolish them in a simulated battle despite their, the cadets, numerical advantage.

"Whoops." He muttered as sergeant Machado, the very large senior non com with an unfortunately bald egg shaped head, finished tallying the last of the scores. The cadets had only had a slight numerical advantage maybe a pure company of fifty tonners had been a mistake... no putting them against ravens of any stripe would have just been more of a headache... he groaned in exasperation. "This is what I get for trying to be inventive." He told Coleridge, who was currently looking at him like he'd grown a second head, or something, but he ignored the vice chancellor's expression and hit the mike to recall the Battle mech company to where they had dismounted from the ride in.

They took the elevator down, in an uncomfortable silence.

There was already an argument brewing down on the deck amongst the cadets over who's fault the loss was. Heavy mechs blamed lighter mechs. The pilots of faster mechs blamed slower mechs for not being able to keep up. Mechwarriors blamed team leadership, leadership blamed cavalier attitudes, and failure to follow command... a bunch of angry teenagers angrily shouted at one another before realizing they were being observed.

He would have preferred making them all write up what they thought had happened... but the vice Chancellor had been put upon too much over the last two days and veritably exploded on them before the cadets could get a word in edge wise. Something Something Sakhara, something about the Robinson OpFor unit that usually did testing of the entire senior year as a whole, at least when they were available. This had only been one class of seniors not the whole senior year, but at lot of them were the students were in the running to the training unit after graduation, and if they weren't well go on to prestigious postings within the AFFS...

... that was sort of a problem.

A problem to compound the list of problems to be sure. 

--

Notes: we will address some of the above questions in the 1.3 section Wednesday. 

I do wish to go ahead and address two things, I have avoided using the original draft's name 'Henry Clay' at this stage, even though I'm probably going to retain that, and I am considering running a mix of 1st person from the MC's perspectives, and 3rd person for everyone else... 

Also I had to cut a lot of the math and numbers stuff out of this section, otherwise it would have been really large, but the essence and its use... involves a lot of big numbers and shenanigans involving not just currency manipulation but also ATOW character sheets so thats probably going to go up at some point