[color=Olive]"That's enough, both of you,"[/color] Colonel Wayne interrupted as he approached the group of Mechwarriors. [color=Olive]"Mechwarrior Daschke, since you seem to want to get physical, I'll be happy to provide you with a workout. Two hundred push-ups, and I want them done before briefing."[/color]

Before the snickering could begin, Gaius turned his attention to Alleycat. [color=Olive]"Mechwarrior Ziska, I want two hundred from you too, for instigating. Next person who causes friction in the ranks gets a Level 1 Disciplinary Action. We may not have a brig at the moment, but trust me, I'll find the time and the equipment to make one. Briefing is in fifteen; both of you get to it. The rest of you are dismissed."[/color]

Ziska was a born troublemaker, and usually Gaius let her attitude slide; playful banter and a little mischief here and there was harmless, and usually good for morale. Right now, though, tensions were high and nerves were on edge; the Green Knights needed to be reminded that they were professionals, and client or no client, there was work to be done.

What exactly that work was, however, was still formulating in the Colonel's head. He needed a few details before the actual plan could be finalized.

Making his way to the large open cavern in the mine that had become their makeshift motor pool, Gaius's nostrils stung with the smell of petrochem as fuel lines snaked across the stone floor between the handful of fuel tanks the Green Knights had managed to escape with, and a trio of mostly-intact APCs. He caught the occasional whiff of ozone and made sure to avert his eyes from the blindingly bright flashes as arc-welders fixed new (or new-ish) plates of armor onto one of the tracked vehicles.

Standing on top of a crate and calling out orders, a wiry dark-skinned man with a prosthetic arm and leg directed the flow of activity. Gaius looked at Chief Aadil's artificial arm, and subconsciously rubbed at his own, a brief jolt of phantom pain causing the fingers of his cybernetic left hand to flex open and closed.

Deep down, Gaius felt a pang of envy as he watched the Deck Chief work. Solomon Aadil was a brilliant technician before being maimed by enemy fire, and his injuries didn't hinder his ability to do his job in the slightest. Colonel Wayne, though was a born Mechwarrior, and his own injury meant that he would never again be able to do the thing he was born to do.

Chief Aadil turned to the Colonel and stepped down from his perch. [color=YellowGreen]"Colonel Wayne,"[/color] he said with a casual salute, [color=YellowGreen]"work is on schedule, we [i]should[/i] be ready to deploy on time."[/color]

[color=Olive]"'Should be?'"[/color] The Colonel asked with a raised eyebrow. [color=Olive]"Something slowing you down, Sol?"[/color]

The Chief shrugged. [color=YellowGreen]"No one major thing, just a thousand small ones. One of the APCs had to be assembled together out of the wreckage of two other ones, and there's no end of minor hiccups that come with that. But more than the technical issues, there's the issue of morale, sir. The techs and astechs are tired, and angry, and everyone's got their blood up. I can't push them too much harder without something or someone breaking."[/color]

The Colonel glanced around, and saw the fatigue on the men's faces as plain as day. Most had sunken cheeks and baggy eyes, from lack of sleep and barely rationed food. Many had been wearing the same clothes for nearly a week. Everyone was covered in a sheen of sweat and grime. They needed to keep pushing forward in order to survive, but days of living in squalor with no release was wearing them down.

Gaius nodded slowly, considering his options, then made up his mind.

[color=Olive]"I want that area cordoned off this evening,"[/color] he pointed to a relatively empty corner of the cavern. [color=Olive]"A couple of barricades to keep people from spilling over it. I'll make sure Master Sergeant Dalton has an accidental lapse in the security watch and that the patrols don't come through the vehicle bay for a good two hours tonight."[/color]

Chief Aadil perked up. [color=YellowGreen]"You're letting me open up the Scrap Yard, sir?"[/color]

[color=Olive]"I'm saying I plan on having a nice, quiet evening to myself before we deploy, Sol,"[/color] he said, not making eye contact, [color=Olive]"And that I'm not going to be bothered by reports of the crew getting rowdy."[/color]

Sol nodded, an understanding smile nearly splitting his face in two.

The Scrap Yard was, by design, the worst-kept secret among the Green Knights' ranks. It was an unsanctioned, 'underground' fighting ring meant to settle grudges and let off steam. Everyone from the lowest astech to the lance-commanding Mechwarrior could challenge- or be challenged by- anyone else in the Scrap Yard. Fighters were encouraged to hold nothing back, fights only stopped by knockout or tap-out. And it was an understanding among the Knights that any issues, no matter how personal, that were brought to the Yard were considered dropped when the fight was over.

This sort of behavior was considered wildly unprofessional, so officially, Colonel Wayne and Captain Roth didn't know about it. Unofficially, they always made sure the quartermaster requisitioned a few extra empty storage crates, barricades, rolls of athletic tape, and bandages.

[color=Olive]"While I'm at it, Sol,"[/color] he mentioned in a low tone, [color=Olive]"I couldn't help but notice that Pops hasn't set up one of his ethanol stills. I want you impress on him that he is [i]absolutely not allowed[/i] to siphon off ethanol fuel from the decommissioned vehicles and start making moonshine."[/color]

The Chief glanced over his shoulder at the leathery old man who slouched against a cavern wall, mirrored shades covering his eyes and a hat pulled down so that no one could tell if he was even awake, and laughed.

Pops was a cantankerous old tech who had joined up along with Wrathchild; nobody knew what his real name was, and every time someone asked about where he came from, he had a different story. While he looked after Lena's younger sister Sunny as if she were his own, he had taken Lena's death hard, and was prone to sulking. Getting him up to his old antics-- or rather, telling him he [i]couldn't[/i] get up to his old antics and then conveniently moving out of the way-- would hopefully go a long way.

[color=YellowGreen]"I'll make sure the boys are all operating at peak efficiency, sir,"[/color] Sol saluted.

[color=Olive]"See to it, Chief,"[/color] the Colonel said, before continuing his walk across the vehicle bay, toward the thick tangle of cables and wires that led from various points in and outside of the abandoned mine, and all converged on the Mobile Headquarters.

[color=SkyBlue]"...just like the time you said you saw a 'Highlander Burial' in person,"[/color] Gaius heard Lieutenant Stephanie Lyons arguing as he stepped through the hatch of the Mobile HQ.

[color=FireBrick]"I totally did!"[/color] Cadet Zack Windham protested, shifting his notable heft in his chair as he turned from his station to bicker. [color=FireBrick]"Okay, it wasn't [i]in person[/i], but the holo was--"[/color]

[color=Khaki]"A fake, man,"[/color] Cadet Marcus Higgins, leaning back and smirking. [color=Khaki]"You can't believe everything you see in the [i]Immortal Warrior[/i] vids."[/color]

Cadet Windham deflated. [color=FireBrick]"It wasn't [i]Immortal Warrior,[/i]"[/color] he pouted. [color=FireBrick]"It was [i]Tales of the Bounty Hunter.[/i]"[/color]

Lyons just scoffed in disgust, while Higgins did his best to not burst out laughing.

[color=Olive]"Lieutenant, Cadets,"[/color] the Colonel announced his presence, causing the communications team to nearly leap out of their seats in surprise. [color=Olive]"I trust you've got the report on enemy comms and movements."[/color]

[color=SkyBlue]"Sir, yes sir!"[/color] Lt. Lyons snapped to attention, while Higgins rolled his eyes at her formality. [color=SkyBlue]"There's been a lot of chatter from the south, especially towards the city of Yuzhny Portveyn. We haven't been able to pinpoint the exact location of the Crimson Fists, because, well, modern comms don't allow for that without--"[/color]

[color=Olive]"I'm aware, Lieutenant,"[/color] the Colonel put a hand up to stop her from going into a technical lecture.

Modern battlefield communications equipment required sophisticated and robust computer systems on the ends of both the sender and receiver. Any message sent through comms, be it a Mechwarrior or an enlisted infantry grunt, would be thoroughly scrambled and encrypted before it was transmitted, and only other comms units with the same decryption key could unscramble the message. An enemy who intercepted a transmission would only get indecipherable noise, unless they either also had the decryption keys, or an expert codebreaker with hardware that hadn't been available for common use for centuries.

[color=SkyBlue]"Right, sir, sorry, sir,"[/color] Lyons sputtered. [color=SkyBlue]"Given the density of comms traffic, we're able to tell where [i]most[/i] of the Espian Guard forces are, at least their general location. More importantly, we've picked up plenty of second-line and auxiliary communications from the area, and lucky for us, they're just using old-fashioned radios. Which means we have an exact fix on the target locations. Cadet Windham?"[/color]

[color=FireBrick]"Hm? Oh! Right,"[/color] Windham answered, fumbling over the mess of empty chava cups, candy bar wrappers, and Battlemech action-figures as he searched. While the Lieutenant's station was always kept clean as if she were expecting a surprise inspection at any minute, Windham's station looked every bit like the 'man-cave' of a perpetually-single man-child, complete with a badly-edited deep-fake poster of a nearly-nude Natasha Kerensky striking a suggestive pose with the barrel of an autocannon.

The Colonel smirked when he saw the poster. He'd heard once that the [i]real[/i] Natasha Kerensky had tracked down whoever was selling those fakes, and stomped him flat in her [i]Warhammer.[/i] Though he'd also heard a different story that she'd only threatened to stomp him unless she got a cut of the profits.

[color=FireBrick]"I've, ah, I've got it right here, sir,"[/color] Windham said as he produced a rolled-up paper map, and rolled it out across the table in the center of the room. Once upon a time, that table contained an advanced holographic battle-map that could update in real-time to show information across an entire continent. Now it was little more than a heavy piece of furniture.

Colonel Wayne studied the map intently. [color=Olive]"You're sure this information is accurate?"[/color]

Lt. Lyons nodded. [color=SkyBlue]"As of this morning, it's up-to-date, sir."[/color]

The Colonel returned the nod absently, and stared at the map for a few more minutes, the pieces starting to click together in his mind.

[color=Khaki]"Ummm, sir?"[/color] Cadet Higgins piped up. [color=Khaki]"Mission briefing is in less than a minute. All due respect, sir....do we have a plan?"[/color]

Gaius Wayne closed his eyes, nodded to himself, and rolled up the map.

[color=Olive]"We do now."[/color]