Future Shadows: Chapter 15

15
Galatean City
Galatea, Lyran Commonwealth
24 July 3040

One week later the Fighting Fusiliers swapped swimwear for evening wear and dress uniforms. Alexandra had received an invitation for her and her team to attend a party held at the Bellagio Galatea, another of Galatean City’s impressive luxury hotels on the main strip. The party was hosted by Lady Sophia Johansen, the Duchess of Sarpsborg, a wealthy Lyran noblewoman who was vacationing on Galatea. Her world was located in the Tamarind March only two jumps away from Solaris. She was a big fan of the Games and spent a lot of her time there. She enjoyed the company of MechWarriors, finding them terribly exciting. When she discovered that Lady Alexandra and her Fusiliers were on Galatea, she made sure they were invited to her latest gathering.
    Alexandra had done some asking around and learned that the Duchess spent little time on her homeworld, despite being its ruler, instead preferring to “slum” on Solaris and Galatea in the company of warriors. Her Grace was exactly the kind of dilettante that Alexandra had worked so hard not to be. But Duchess Johansen was no MechWarrior wannabe; she simply preferred the company of soldiers, mercenaries and gladiators. The Fusiliers were precisely the type of people she liked to hang around with.
    Protocol dictated that Alexandra couldn’t refuse the invitation, despite being tempted to. The last two years of her life had matured her a great deal. She now realised how empty-headed, frivolous and useless so many of the nobility were, and was deeply thankful that she’d become a much better person. On the other hand, there were likely to be other mercenaries in attendance, along with nobles and political leaders. And that might mean some important leads or contacts. Sort of like the Hiring Hall in miniature. It was an opportunity she simply couldn’t pass up.
    Wanting to be seen as a soldier rather than a Baroness, Alexandra wore the Fusiliers dress uniform. Hers was cut and shaped for a woman’s figure of course, but otherwise was no different from the man’s version. This included a white handmade shirt and a dark green jacket with three rows of pewter buttons and black elements. It had a high collar and about her neck was a black kerchief. On the left breast was her Innsbruck Service Medal and Battle of Inn Valley ribbons. The former was a band of dark red in the middle with a band of blue and then purple on either side; the latter was white with three dark green bands in the middle. Her close-fitting trousers were the same dark green as the jacket, and she had a wide black sash around her waist. There was a black shako hat with crossed rifles in pewter on the front, and polished black leather boots. The style was early nineteenth century, not mid thirty-first. Archaic, yet classy.
    Cera also wore her dress uniform, as did Laura; but Marie, Isabelle and Elizabeth wore cocktail dresses; they were on leave after all. Sayuki had chosen a beautiful kimono. The lads wore their dress uniforms – although it took a lot of wheedling on Cera’s part to get Garadun to wear his. He said he always felt a right berk wearing it. The only good thing about it was that, as a military uniform, protocol allowed him to openly carry a sidearm. He tucked his needler into his sash, ready for a cross-draw.
    “Don’t shoot anybody if they annoy you,” Cera told him. “It’s bad form.”
    “You’re no fun.”

                                                                          *****

The Bellagio Galatea was just as luxurious as the Mandarin Capellan, and like all the major hotels on Galatean City’s main strip it had several grand chambers and ballrooms that were home to all sorts of parties, conferences and conventions. One such ballroom had been acquired for Duchess Sophia’s soirée. It was absolutely huge, with an elevated stage that featured a live band to entertain the guests. The event was fully catered of course, and there was an open bar. The Duchess had spared no expense.
    Alexandra and Elizabeth had been raised in Lyran “society” and knew all the social conventions. So did Ian as a (now former) member of Davion royalty. Laura had spent time at court on Tharkad and could also handle herself quite well. Sayuki kept to her husband’s side and impressed people with her beauty and charm. Marie, as a former supermodel, was used to glamorous parties and knew how to mingle. The others relied on basic good manners and tried to have a nice time. Isabelle, however, was utterly out of her element. She’d grown up very poor on Oberon VI, the capitol world of the Oberon Confederation – a Bandit Kingdom in the Periphery. She stuck like glue to Erik or Marie and Cera and didn’t say much.
    Garadun stayed by his friends and tried not to shoot anyone. He loathed these kinds of events. He hadn’t been invited to many while on Solaris, but at least there he knew how the game was played. Those parties he understood – they were all about making money off the Games. Networking, that’s what it was all about. But here? He seemed to be here with the other mercenaries and gladiators as entertainment for the assorted nobles, holovid celebrities and corporate movers and shakers. Bollocks.
    He snapped out his mental drifting when he realised Alexandra was talking to him. That wasn’t good. If she’d been an enemy she could have easily put a knife in him. Some might call him paranoid, but he knew people were out to get him. It wasn’t the bloody Tooth Fairy who’d put a bomb in his BattleMech and nearly killed him.
    “Your Grace, Kommandant von Rauch, may I introduce MechWarrior Garadun Morr, commander of my Battle Lance,” said Alexandra with a charming smile. “Garadun, may I introduce our generous hostess, Her Grace Sophia Johansen, Duchess of Sarpsborg. And this is Kommandant Alfred von Rauch of the LCAF, Retired.”
    “A pleasure, your Grace,” said Garadun, giving her a slight bow before taking her hand and lightly kissing it. He gave the Kommandant a salute. “Sir.”
    Kommandant von Rauch returned the salute, then smiled and shook Garadun’s hand. “Always honoured to meet a winner of the Commonwealth Star.”
    “Thank you, sir.”
    “He won a medal?” said Duchess Sophia excitedly.
    Kommandant von Rauch pointed to a deep red ribbon on Garadun’s left breast that had a small band of platinum in the middle. “That ribbon, your Grace, shows he was awarded the Commonwealth Star for extreme valour. These other two ribbons like Lady Alexandra wears are campaign medals; although I don’t recognise them.”
    “The Innsbruck Service Medal ribbon and the Battle of Inn Valley ribbon,” Alexandra explained. “We received them for fighting pirates on Kolovraty.”
    “Oh, well done, Lady Alexandra! You must be very proud.”
    “I am, your Grace. My Fusiliers earned them.”
    “How did you win the Commonwealth Star, Mr Morr?” the Duchess asked.
    “Fighting pirates,” he said with a slight shrug. “It was my job.”
    “Spoken with the modesty of a genuine hero and a proper soldier,” Kommandant von Rauch remarked with approval.
    Garadun replied instinctively. “I’m not a solider, sir. Or a hero.”
    “Of course you are, Mr Morr,” said Duchess Sophia, chuckling.
    “I’m a ‘Mech jock, not a soldier,” he countered, trying to keep his temper in check. “I was a Solaris gladiator long before becoming a mercenary. I was never in any standing army. I’m not a soldier. And I’m not a hero. I just did my job.”
    “He’s very outspoken, isn’t he?” said the Duchess to Alexandra, lowering her voice almost as if he couldn’t hear her. “Solaris fighters are like that you know.”
    “That’s been my experience, yes,” said Alexandra politely.
    “Did you win many matches on Solaris?”
    “I’m alive, that’s what counts,” Garadun replied. “A lot of Solaris MechWarriors can’t say the same, so I think I did all right.”
    “So you killed your opponents?” Duchess Sophia asked excitedly.
    “No, that’s not what I said.” His fuse was running out. “I said I’m alive and others aren’t. I didn’t say I killed them. Look, I never tried to kill my opponents, although it happened now and then. Risks of the arenas.”
    “But if your opponent is trying to kill you in the arena, then surely–”
    “In the arenas I was a gladiator, not an assassin. If you’ll excuse me, your Grace,” he said and abruptly walked away into the crowd.
    “My word! He’s from Solaris all right. I’ve met his kind many times before, let me tell you. Rough and brash. But they make the Games very entertaining.”
    “Yes, I suppose they do,” Alexandra murmured.
    “So tell us about your encounters with pirates, Lady Alexandra,” Kommandant von Rauch requested. “Must be some good stories there.”
    “Oh yes, please do, Lady Alexandra,” Duchess Sophia added.
    “As you wish, your Grace. Well, our first encounter was what’s now called the Battle of Innsbruck, which was actually comprised of two separate battles…”

                                                                          *****

An hour later Alexandra was still talking to Duchess Sophia. She had tried to get away more than once but the woman kept bringing in new people to meet her and hear about her adventures “way out there in the godforsaken Periphery.” If the Duchess hadn’t been her hostess, she would have made a more sudden exit as Garadun had done.
    Then she was saved by her little sister.
    “Alexandra! Alexandra!” said Elizabeth frantically, coming up to her half in tears.
    “Elizabeth, what’s wrong?” Alexandra asked in concern.
    “It’s my…well,” she said, upset and now conscious of the group of people around them who were part of Duchess Sophia’s current entourage.
    “Don’t be distressed, my dear, it’s all right,” the Duchess told her.
    “What is it, Elizabeth? Has someone been improper with you?”
    “No, nothing like that.” Elizabeth whispered frantically in her ear. Alexandra’s eyes widened for a moment and then she regained her composure. She in turn quietly whispered in Duchess Sophia’s ear and the woman gave a gasp.
    “Yes, yes, you hurry along, my dear,” she said in a loud, sympathetic whisper to Elizabeth. “Lady Alexandra, by all means go with her. She needs you.”
    “Thank you, your Grace. Please excuse us everyone,” said Alexandra and they hurried away. Once out of sight, Elizabeth wiped her eyes and was instantly herself again. She hooked her arm through her sister’s, a grin on her face.
    “Cera told me you needed rescuing.”
    Alexandra laughed. “And was the story about you suddenly having your period her idea as well?”
    “Yes, although Sayuki told me to add the tears.”
    “Now that’s tactics,” said Alexandra, laughing again.
    “Besides, there’s someone you need to meet,” Elizabeth told her. “Not one of these phonies, but like, someone important. She’s looking to hire mercenaries.”
    “You’re right, that is important.”
    Elizabeth guided Alexandra across the ballroom to a relatively quiet corner where Cera, Ian and Sayuki were talking to a tall, very striking woman. Stunningly beautiful in fact. She had long, dark brown hair falling in waves around her shoulders, smouldering blue eyes and a beautiful face. Her body was equally gorgeous; wrapped in a tight, strapless white gown that fell to her ankles, yet still showed off her curves.
    “Ah, here she is,” said Cera happily. “I see my plan worked.”
    Elizabeth giggled. “Did it ever!”
    “Cera, you deserve a medal for that idea,” Alexandra told her. “Thank you.”
    “Fusiliers look after each other.”
    “Speaking of, where’s Marie?”
    “Trying to take care of another Fusilier,” Cera replied with a wink. “But allow me: Baroness Alexandra Grosvenor, may I introduce Countess Adele Jansen of Gambilon. Lady Adele, this is Lady Alexandra, our beloved commander.”
    “A pleasure,” said Lady Adele, her accented voice husky and sensual.
    Alexandra smiled, shaking her hand. “The pleasure is mine, Lady Adele.”
    “Lady Adele hails from the Magistracy of Canopus,” Ian supplied.
    “That’s correct,” she said, giving him a smile. “My homeworld, Gambilon, is right on the border of our realm.” She looked at Alexandra. “I hope you can help me.”
    “In what way, Lady Adele?” Alexandra inquired curiously.
    “The Magistracy recently underwent a change in government this past May. We have a new Magestrix. She’s getting things in order of course, but in the meantime, well, I’m sure you understand how bureaucracies can be, Lady Alexandra.”
    “Only too well I’m afraid, Lady Adele.”
    “Which is why I’ve come all the way to Galatea,” said Adele, glancing around at her hosts. “Gambilon is exposed and undefended. The threat of the Marian Hegemony never goes away, and pirates have always been a problem for the Magistracy. Since my arrival tonight I’ve heard nothing but good things about your Fighting Fusiliers. That you know how to deal with pirates. That you sympathise with Periphery worlds.”
    “We do indeed, Lady Adele,” said Alexandra. “Piracy is a blight on everyone.”
    “I’ve been told the Hiring Hall is where such business is done, but since I have you here and now, I’ll make my proposition. I need mercenaries to defend my world, and your gallant forces seem to be exactly what I’m looking for. Are you available to take on an assignment? I’m sure we could come to an equitable arrangement.”
    “Excuse me, Countess,” said Cera curiously. “I have no wish to be rude, but are you saying you are the ruler of Gambilon?”
    “Yes, Miss Kuroda, that’s correct.”
    “And you came all the way here yourself to hire mercenaries?”
    Adele nodded. “Our situation is perilous. We have no troops, none at all. I felt that if I came in person instead of an agent, it would underscore Gambilon’s need.”
    “Now that’s leadership,” said Ian, impressed.
    “Hai. If only all rulers were so dedicated,” Sayuki added.
    “I couldn’t agree more,” said Alexandra, her smile warm. “Lady Adele, know that we Fusiliers fight for more than money. We believe in honourable causes, hard as they may be to find in this day and age. Defending the helpless against raiders and pirate scum is for us about the noblest cause there is.”
    “No politics,” said Cera. “No boundaries. Just Good Guys versus Bad Guys.”
    “Hai!” Sayuki agreed.
    “Are you saying that you’ll help me?” Adele asked, hopefully.
    “Assuming we can agree on satisfactory contract terms, and I don’t see any reason why we can’t…then yes, we’ll help you,” Alexandra replied.
    “Thank you, Lady Alexandra. Thank you so very much.” Adele embraced her without reserve, kissing her on each cheek.
    “By the way, how did you get to Galatea?” Cera inquired.
    “Through a long series of DropShips and JumpShips,” Adele replied wearily. “It took me some six months to get here from Gambilon. I left before the change in government, but that change simply makes the situation more urgent. Things at Court will be a mess for who knows how long, and Gambilon requires protection now.”
    Cera grinned. “We’ll get you home a lot quicker than six months.”
    “And in luxury and comfort,” Alexandra added proudly. “I have my own JumpShip, Countess, so there’s no schedule to answer to, no transport companies or travel agencies to deal with. You’ll come with us aboard Distant Memory.”
    “Then I’m already twice in your debt, Lady Alexandra,” she said gratefully.
    A moment later Marie and Garadun arrived on the scene, she looking frustrated and he looking vaguely smug. However, he stopped short upon seeing Lady Adele. He looked as if he’d been kicked by an Atlas. Cera saw his reaction to the gorgeous Canopian noblewoman and smiled in delight. But he recovered quickly.
    “Garadun Morr, Marie Coriveau: may I introduce Lady Adele Jansen, Countess of Gambilon of the Magistracy of Canopus,” said Cera congenially.
    Garadun bowed. “Deeply honoured, my Lady.”
    “Oui, I am greatly honoured, my Lady,” said Marie, curtsying.
    “The Countess is also our new employer,” Alexandra told them. “Informally at any rate. I’ve made a preliminary agreement for us to garrison her planet.”
    “I don’t foresee any problems with negotiations,” Adele remarked.
    Garadun held out his hand to Marie. “Right, where’s my twenty?”
    Marie irritably grumbled something in French and began fishing around in her little hand purse. She brought out a few crumpled C-bills and gave him a twenty. He shoved it in his pocket with a smirk.
    “What’s all this about?” Alexandra inquired.
    “We made a bet. I won.”
    Cera’s face fell. “Oh no. Are you serious? But Marie was so sure.”
    “What’s going on?” Elizabeth asked curiously.
    Marie sighed. “As chance would have it, one of the models I used to work with, a friend of mine, also happens to be here tonight. Cera said months ago that I should try setting Garadun up with one of my supermodel girlfriends when we got back home. Erin was actually here, so I told Cera and she agreed we had to go for it. I introduced Erin to Garadun, hoping they would hit it off.”
    “Wait, wait, wait,” said Elizabeth. “Do you mean Erin Weathers?”
    “Yes, that’s right. Erin.”
    “Wow! She’s really, really pretty! She models for the big designers!”
    “No joy, brother?” said Ian sympathetically.
    “Well, I made a twenty off it,” Garadun replied, shrugging. “I’ve tried telling these two I don’t know how many times it wouldn’t work. Supermodels are not interested in guys like me. They want guys like you or Erik, or holovid stars or whatever.”
    “Am I to understand you’ve been unlucky in love, Mr Morr?” Adele asked.
    “That’s one way of putting it, my Lady,” he said wryly.
    “When we get to Gambilon we’ll change that.” She smiled, assessing him openly. “We Canopians are famous for our romantic natures.”
    “So I’ve heard,” said Alexandra, blushing slightly.
    “With all due respect, my Lady, good luck,” he said with his usual cynicism.
    Adele looked at him, intrigued. “A challenge, then?”
    “No, a word of caution. Don’t get your hopes up. Marie did, and she flamed out.”
    “Would you care to wager on it?” Adele put out her hand.
    “All right, my Lady, you’re on,” he said and took it. “Stakes?”
    “Is a thousand C-bills too much for you?”
    “No problem, my Lady,” he said and they shook. She had a good handshake.
    Marie was stunned. “I can’t believe you just bet a thousand on this.”
    “I used to bet a hellavalot more on Solaris. That’s how I made a lot of my living: betting on myself to win in the Games. A thousand is nothing.”
    “So you were a Solaris gladiator?” said Adele, even more intrigued.
    “Me and Cera both. We were partners in team matches, which is mostly what we did. Not as much coverage or fame or money as the race for the Championship, but there was always the next match to fight. It kept the money coming in.”
    “We went mercenary because it’s safer,” Cera explained.
    “Lady Adele, would you be interested in going somewhere quieter and more private to discuss things?” Alexandra asked her, gesturing. “To be perfectly honest, I find this party rather tiresome.”
    “I think that’s an excellent idea,” said Adele. “To be totally honest as well, the only reason I attended this gathering was to meet you so that I could ask for the help of your Fighting Fusiliers. That goal is accomplished.”
    “Perhaps my Suite, then?” Alexandra suggested. “It has plenty of room.”
    “That sounds wonderful. Thank you, Lady Alexandra. I accept.”
    “All right, Fusiliers, we’re going,” Alexandra announced. “Round up the others and get your coats. We’ll gather at my Suite at the Mandarin.”
    “Thank you, my Lady,” said Garadun in deep gratitude and pulled off his neckerchief and unbuttoned his jacket with a sigh of relief. “Let’s get outta here.”

                                                                          *****

The main living room of Alexandra and Elizabeth’s Sian Suite was simply enormous, and had more than enough space to comfortably house all the Fusiliers and their new would-be employer. Alexandra and Adele sat together at the room’s bar with their drinks and a blank mercenary contract, pleasantly working out the details.
    To say that Countess Adele Jansen was impressive was an understatement. Visually, she was incredibly beautiful and had an inherently sensual and alluring air about her. Aiding her physical presence was her height – she stood 178 centimeters in her stocking feet. Her personality matched her looks: she was outgoing, intelligent, very charming, cultured, well-spoken, witty, sexy and completely sure of herself. And like Alexandra she was approachable and friendly, not snobbish or aloof.
    The Fusiliers lounged casually about the Suite, enjoying what had become an après party of sorts. Shoes and boots had been left by the door, jackets and furs hung in the closet, neckerchiefs and sashes draped over the backs of chairs. Jazz was being softly played on the Suite’s audio system, accompanied now and then by the tinkle of ice in glasses filled with assorted drinks. Jimmy, Sun-Lao and Isabelle were playing cards; the others were enjoying good conversation. Elizabeth in particular was having a fabulous time because she was getting to stay up really late and have alcohol. The latter perk was thanks to Cera and Garadun, who’d told Alexandra bluntly:
    “If she’s old enough to clime into the cockpit of a BattleMech and maybe get herself killed, then she’s old enough to drink.”
    The only person feeling uncomfortable was Garadun, and that was because he was having a hard time not staring at Lady Adele. She was one of the most beautiful women he’d ever seen in his entire life. And that was saying something considering the company he kept, which included a supermodel. He considered telling everyone he was tired and retreating to his room, but that would be chickening out. All right, fine. So he wanted her more than any other woman he’d ever known. So what? There were countless gorgeous women he wanted (every single one in the room for example) and would never have, so what was one more? Man up and let it go.
    He strolled over and went behind the bar. “Need a refill?”
    “Thank you, Garadun, that’s very kind of you,” said Alexandra, smiling.
    “And you, Countess?” he asked as he topped off Alexandra’s wine glass.
    “Yes, thank you, Mr Morr.”
    “What’re you drinking? And it’s just Garadun or Gar.”
    “Combine scotch, please,” she said and he nodded and refilled her glass. “And since we’re being informal, you may call me Adele.”
    “Thanks, I will.”
    Alexandra chuckled. “Now he’ll never use your title.”
    “Not one for formality, are you, Garadun?” Adele observed shrewdly.
    “Nope, not unless I have to. No offence, but I don’t see anything special about the nobility other than they’re usually rich – and lots of people have money.”
    “Would you say that about Lady Alexandra?” she asked, raising an eyebrow.
    “Alexandra has true nobility where it counts: in the heart. That she happens to be a Baroness is just a nice coincidence. She’s what royalty is supposed to be, and I’d follow her anywhere because she’s earned my loyalty by being a great person, not because of her name and title. She’s got sand and kicks butt.”
    Alexandra blushed with pleasure. “Thank you, Garadun.”
    “Call ‘em like I see ‘em,” he said, mixing a drink for himself.
    Lady Adele put her elbow on the bar, resting her chin on her hand. “And what do you think of me?” she asked, gazing at him steadily.
    Garadun met her gaze and did everything in his power not to be overwhelmed. “First impression? You’re unbelievably beautiful of course, which happens to fit the stereotype most people have of Canopian women. You’re smart, you strike me as someone who won’t put up with any bullshit – excuse my French – and you genuinely give a damn about your people. You proved that by coming here yourself. You have what we on Solaris call sand. I like you, you’re good people.”
    Adele looked at Alexandra with an open smile. “Doesn’t hold back, does he?”
    “You have no idea,” Cera commented from where she’d joined the card game.
    “And you have trouble with women?” Adele asked Garadun.
    “Friends is no problem,” he replied, sipping his rum and cola. “Women like me well enough as a friend. But more than that? No. I’m not handsome and charming, I’m not rich and famous, and I’m not heir to land and title. I’m just this guy.”
    “Brother, you are more than just some guy,” said Ian from the main sofa. “You’re a good man and my friend. Hell, you were Best Man at my wedding.”
    “Hai!” Sayuki agreed emphatically.
    “And you’re a Fusilier,” Jimmy added. “Nothing tops that.”
    “Damn straight,” said Sun-Lao.
    “None of which affects how women see me,” he countered, shrugging. “Tonight was a perfect example. Erin was polite enough, but so not interested.”
    “I think you would do very well in the Magistracy,” Adele told him with a self-assured expression. “You’re honest and passionate. Canopian women like that.”
    “Yeah-huh, right.”
    “I’m Canopian, I should know.”
    “Okay, fine,” he said and Cera turned to watch. She knew that tone of voice. He put his hands on the bar. “Straight up, right now, totally honest with no excuses: do you find me desirable? Like, take-me-to-bed-tonight kind of desirable?”
    Even Adele, experienced as she was, was caught off-guard.
    “Yes or no. It’s a simple question. Be honest.”
    Everyone in the room was watching now, with no-one saying a word.
    Adele hesitated, then sighed. “No, I don’t.”
    “Thank you. Point made.”
    “I’m sorry.”
    “Don’t be. I know what I am, and what I’m not.” Seeing how the general mood had been dampened, he felt bad. “Sorry, guys. I guess I’ll call it a night.”
    No-one knew what to say, so they said nothing as he collected his things and left the room to return to his quarters. Eventually Alexandra spoke up.
    “Lady Adele, I apologise for his behaviour.”
    “No need to apologise, Lady Alexandra. He simply spoke his mind, a trait I happen to appreciate.” She glanced around the room. “He is a good man, I can see that.”
    “But never good enough it seems,” Cera muttered and got up and made for the door. “I’ll be back in a little while.”
    “She’s going to talk to him,” Marie explained after Cera left. “She’s his best friend, his partner, and his second in the Battle Lance.”
    “Gar’ll be okay,” said Jimmy, shuffling the cards. “He’s tough.”
    “Shall we discuss salvage rights?” Alexandra asked Adele in a desperate attempt to change the subject and hopefully improve the general mood as well.
    “Yes, of course,” said Adele, seeing her cue. “More wine?”
    “Thank you, that’d be lovely.”