Counterattack: BattleCorps Anthology Vol. 5 by BattleTech Counterattack (BattleCorps Anthology Vol. 5)

Author:BattleTech Counterattack (BattleCorps Anthology Vol. 5) [Retail]
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Publisher: Catalyst Game Labs
Published: 2014-07-23T00:00:00+00:00

Orloff Grenadiers Command Post

Sophia, Vanra

Duchy of Orloff, Free Worlds League

9 April 2996

While waiting in the ’Mech hangar for First Battalion’s techs to finish prepping for departure, Cyril sat on the foot of his Trebuchet, Peacemaker, and reviewed his orders with a grimace. He’d met Duke Reinhard Orloff a grand total of once, back when the duke pinned the Distinguished Service Award on his uniform and formally inducted him into the Orloff Grenadiers. In newscasts, Reinhard always struck Cyril as a genial and magnanimous individual truly committed to governing his duchy with fairness, and the moment Reinhard shook his hand at the ceremony, Cyril knew all of this was true. Reinhard’s only claim to infamy was his adamant usage of the title “duke,” even though he could only legally lay claim to the title of earl or banneret within the League’s nobility. Cyril thought Reinhard did that just to poke at Parliament, which made him like the duke even more.

Reinhard Orloff’s son, however—that was a different story altogether. Skylar Orloff was always showing up in some tabloid or other, parading around with more mistresses than SAFE probably even knew about and engaging in other vices Cyril didn’t even want to consider. The ducal heir was a piece of work, no doubts about it. Just looking at the presumptuous smirk in Skylar’s photo made Cyril want to slug the condescension right off his bastard face.

No, no, he reminded himself. Calling him a bastard only insults his father—who is without a doubt the far better man.

He should’ve looked forward to hobnobbing with royalty, even if Skylar was only the firstborn of a lesser noble in the League, but Cyril found no joy in the prospect. If it came down to the choice between drinking expensive wine with Skylar Orloff and Tsinghai’s prime minister or throwing back a cheap beer with his lancemates, he’d choose his lancemates any day of the week.

Cyril looked up from the folder to see a gaggle of snappily dressed men and women wandering through the ’Mech hangar as though it were a shopping boutique. Speak of the devil. The fat slob himself and his retinue were laughing to themselves over some private joke when they reached Cyril’s ’Mech.

“Excuse me—Captain, is it?” Skylar said in a patronizing lilt that set Cyril skin crawling. “I was told someone here might help me with my ’Mech?”

Cyril’s eyebrows rose. Most scions of the Orloff family served at least a tour or two of duty in the duchy’s military. Reinhard had served in the Fifth Grenadiers back when his mother ruled the duchy, but somehow Skylar had found some way to worm himself out of proper military service. In fact, Cyril was surprised Skylar even had a BattleMech.

Cyril bit the inside of his cheek to bury all the potential insults running through his head before he could voice them and be accused of treason. Maintain decorum, Cyril. It’s just for a few months. “Lead Tech Huerta’s over yonder,” he said, pointing in the general direction of the technician’s office.

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