In reply to Echo Snow (msg # 266):

When questions were called for Jake raised his hand.  With a lop sided grin he asks, "What kind of snacks should we bring?"

Echo sighs, "Weather forecast is 'cold'.  Sleet and snow is on the forecast for the next three days.  I would suggest something warm.  Perhaps a nice soup or stew.  While a coolant vest is obviously necessary for the operations of the mech, i would suggest something warm to use for between expected battles since it's likely that the cockpits will be cold."

Pax just shakes his head no.

After the beating his unit took with out so much as a whiff of success he was glad his unit was to be delegated to a task beat up mechs could still accomplish.

He sat and listened to the briefing with a scowl on his face.

David listens to the briefing impassively.  They had the garrison on the run and the news was good, true, but that still meant the garrison had fewer places to defend and they could focus their strength there.  He arched an eyebrow at the technology used in the briefing and wondered if they could get their hands on any.

The defenders looked to be organized and well dug-in.  That meant no foolish chances like last time.  He had gotten away with it then but he had no illusions about the odds of the same bravado working twice in his favour.  This would certainly be no easy task but he had no doubt they could pull it off.

During one of the pauses he idly he wondered how repairs were going on his Jenner.

Hina raises a hand, then quickly sets to waving it back and forth until she is acknowledged.

"Sounds like it's more important that we keep that stuff out of their hands, that getting it ourselves is secondary. Do we have plans to derail the train if they get it moving before we can secure it?"

The battle at the train depot was bitter and brief, lasting only a little over a minute.  Pandora special forces were quick to take over the Yuma Express under the Merc's distractive actions.  When Spartacus went down, it was all over.  The Praetorian guards were broken, and the rest of the Concordant forces were falling back to ensure his safety.

The train was taken with minimal casualties.  The Train slowed only briefly to allow the pilot to board the train before it was off, pacing the withdrawing mechs to the Ross Airbase.

Once they arrive at the ross airfield, they find that everything was in good order.  The lance of mercs assigned to take the field had run into light resistance, and dealt with a minor incursion that was beaten off.  A mule class dropship was on the field.  In a hurry to be off the planet, the entire train is lifted off the rails and loaded on the Mule.  It isnt long before they dust off and boost for the stars.

The mercenary mechs are strapped down in the mules hold, and sleeping bags are handed out for the mercs to camp out on.  The Mule class dropship was capable of hauling an immense amount of cargo, but was not known for luxury.

(* Feel Free to roleplay a bit, will update this thread a little each day till we get to the next Contract, which i estimate, the first mission to start at the end of this month/start of June. *)

Hina trudged slowly up the ramp of the dropship, keeping close to the edge to allow for the much faster BattleMechs to pass her without having to watch out for her. Every once in a while, she looked up from her task to stare at the distant horizon. A quick mental calculation, based on the planet's diameter and the height of the ramp, gave her an estimate that the horizon was about twenty-one kilometers away.

She could just barely make out the plume of smoke she had been mentally tracking the entire trip. Turning away from it, she returned her attention to the task at hand, and resumed her slow progress up the ramp.

As she reached the loading bay, a technician in dark blue overalls jogs over, his arms laden with a sleeping bag and a ration kit. She gave the tech a long stare, visibly comparing his clean, pressed suit to her own ragged, battered one. As the tech backed away hesitantly, she reached out to grab the food-pack from him. Not the bedroll, though. The tech turned to find someone more amenable, and it took a physical effort for her to not try to kick him in the rear.

Tossing the ration-pack into an unoccupied alcove, she turned back to give her task one final effort. With a loud grunt, she heaved her BattleMech's pilot seat over the last bit of ramp, shoving it into the alcove. The seat was taller than her, and looked like it had been in a firefight. The propulsion jets were spent, nothing more than fire-blackened cylinders. The parachute was missing, only some severed cords revealing its original location.

The padded interior, however, was absolutely pristine. Not a mark on the faux-leather, not a stitch out of place. Every safety restraint was perfectly secure, every buckle shining like new.

Hina gave the chair a push, then a kick, making sure it was secure in its spot and wasn't going to fall over. Satisfied that it wasn't going anywhere, she turned around and flopped into the seat. She ripped open the ration pack and picked out the obligatory candy bar, then bit into it with a vengeance.

Ana approached the dropship on foot, just getitng the last  of her luggage from their temporary hq during the cmapaign, she had a lot to think about.

She'd let the girls down, and Hina had lost her mech for it, Lina's ride wasn't in a good shape either, but at least she hadn't lost it, sure the insurance policy  on the contract  covered a good chunk of what Hina lost, but it didn't cover it all, so it was with a buter taste in her mouth she walked up the ramp of the dropship.

She grabbed her supplies from one of the men walking around hadning them out, and noticed Hina sitting in the leftovers of her ride, she grimaced and began to walk over there.

when she finally arrived she nodded at the floor in front of Hina, and spoke softly.
"Mind if I sit?"
she looked at Hina's face, inwardly sighing at her own failure, leading to this predicament.

The trip through space is long quiet... and boring.

Really after the rush of closely space engagements and the rush to move about on the raid with the TC nipping on your heels, some of you are finding the quiet ever eternal night of space a little hard to get use to.

Many of you are still in need of a bath.  You're actually aloted a water basin and a few liters of water to clean off.  The cost of the water considered a good investment to reduce the possibility of wounds getting infected with the added benefit of improving morale and air quality.

The hold of the Mule is large enough.  All around you for the trip are the slumbering war machines that were the means for staying alive and dealing out the hurt to the planetary garrison.  Someone was going to get in trouble, not only had you gotten away with the cargo, you've managed to steal the whole train...

It makes for an amusing place to settle and pass time.  Its well lit with some nice touches, like a small kitchen, and a few bunk beds for over night stays on the rails.  One of the cars of the Yuma Express it seemed was used for a listening post.  Gathering information and providing EW support in the field.  Another was purely cargo.  The Engine itself, was too heavy to pull off the rails and not considered valuable bother and was left behind.

The Pandora actives appear here and there, but mostly keep to themselves, and seem pretty busy sifting through the electronic data available in the train to gather intel on what the Concordat was up to.  The rest of the unit was left to their own devices for a few days they pass time cleaning up, killing time, and in some cases mending old injuries and new.  The more productive pilots spend time working on their mechs repairing damage and reloading ammo bins.  While it was nice to hope for the best, a hot landing was something you wanted to be prepared for if it happened.  The paranoid lifestyle of a merc.

There was a scout jumpship anchored in space on what the time keepers said was the third day, waiting and drawing energy from it's solar sails while the mercs were spending days dirt side, the jump ship was gathering energy to bring you all home.

Even before the Mule starts docking operations, the solar sails start to close and fold.  It doesnt take too much longer for the Engines to warm up and for the K-Drives to take the jumpship across space jumping across the vastness of space.

There would be two more jumps.  Each one spaced out by long idle days spent recharging the jumpships batteries which would be used to make the next jump.  At the end of it all, was Omni's home system.  To most of the mercs, it was just another blue planet in another single star system.  To the Valkyries and Pandora operatives, it was a long awaited moment.  After months away, planetfall was only hours away, they were home.

The long Ferro-Concrete pads were depressed into the ground, allowing spheroid dropships to seat better for cargo handling.  The descent down was smooth and clean and ended at Omni's starport.

As ports go, it was small and seemed little used.  A trio of circular pads were along side the long strip supporting the enormous dropships that shipped commerce to and away from the planet.  A pair of Mules currently occupied the other two pads hinted at a healthy trade economy.

Hangers lined the space beside the strip hinted at a notable Aero Space presence. The mule would be seated on the pad till the mechs were offloaded and new cargo could be loaded and then... it would be gone.  It seemed the Mercs were here to stay for the near future.

The environment felt welcoming the frosty cold weather of Burton was very far away at the moment.  It was humid and warm, though in the shade of the dropship not to the point of uncomfortable.  Among the Pandora operatives are the first to offload, and vanish off to some room to be debriefed.

That suited the mercs fine.  They were all busy seeing to their mechs being unloaded, evidently to be parked in a hanger large enough to shelter a dropship.  For the moment, they were left alone to their own thoughts and curiosities.
This message was last edited by the GM at 03:49, Wed 21 May 2014.

As the mechwarriors disembark from the dropship, a young woman wearing the blue jumpsuit of a Hope military academy mechwarrior cadet is already there to meet them.
Scanning over the small group, she quickly zeroes in on Anastasia and steps forward.

"Lance Commander Karkoff, Cadet Helia Quinn reporting for duty!" Helia salutes sharply as she introduces herself in clipped tones. "I have been assigned to your unit. I have the orders here if you would like to review them."

All around the hanger were young women going about their business in some sort of uniform.  Most were in White, Black or Green.  There were a few in Blue and Red though they were in the minority.

One of the blue ones were beside Helia.

"I am Officer Candidate, Cadet Margaret.  I have been assigned to be the Liason Officer for the Freelancers while they staying here on Omni.  I'm sure you're all tired after such a long flight, i will escort you to your quarters.  Our Tech pool will get to work on getting your equipment fit for operations."

If asked or any of the characters seem reluctant, she assures them that the tech staff is top notch and will take care of the machines and that you will not be within walking distance should any of you care to over watch the repair process.

It's a ten minute walk to where you will be staying.  It seems to be a hotel of some sort, and while the room are 'economy' and two to a room, except for officers (rank 2 or higher) who are granted their own rooms.  You're given a cell phone, and a wristband, that youre told is used as currency (like a credit card).  Margaret indicates that her number are on the phones and to contact her immediately if there is a problem.

You're then left to clean up and go about your business for the next day or two.  During this time, if you check up on the repairs of your mech, there seems to be a LOT more bodies around than really required for battle damage repairs.
This message was last edited by the GM at 23:49, Wed 21 May 2014.

It was the third day of stay that the mercs were on planet that a Blond haired woman arrived to collect the unit commanders for debriefing.  She wore the same blue jumpsuit that was seen here and there but seemed to hold herself with a sense of authority.

The Ana would recognize her Commander insignia, gave her a rank on par with a Captain.  She was brief and to the point, and not particularly inclined to small talk, a change of pace from the chatty personnel that seemed to populate Omni.  In the brief time they were here, the mercs found that most of the locals were chatty, friendly, and a few degrees too perky for their liking.  While it was obvious from their uniform that they were suppose to be a militant group of some sort, they certainly didnt act like one.

Their trip terminated at an office building.  One of the larger ones in Eden.  It's glassy mirrored surface spanned dozens of floors above ground floor.  Most of the mercs couldnt help but wonder what sort of mess it would have made should it come under attack.

That pretty much summed everything up that they saw.  Everything on the planet was pretty, but not suited to the business of war.  The ride up the elevator bought them very close to the top floors of the building where they met with a woman with dark hair and an intelligent look of competence about her.

"Good Afternoon gentlemen...", she nods to Anastasia, "Lance Commander."

She waves at several comfortable chair in front of her glass surface... much too neat table.

"I trust that your stay on Omni has so far been to your liking?"

In reply to Kitten (msg # 273):

Kurt maneuvered his battered Commando through the Dropship bay doors and secured it on the assigned pallet, secures master safety, and runs through shutdown procedures and checks.  He can't help but see Hina dragging her command couch in behind her.  Her head was up, that was a good sign, but he could see the strain.  He wondered if he would have that courage.

Dispossession was all but a foreign concept in the Lyran Guard.  If a 'Mech got destroyed, another was ordered from the Quartermaster.  Sure, it meant that a militia unit most likely got passed over, but that was the way it was.  There were some armchair generals who thought it was good for the militiamen to "know their place."  This was different though.  There wouldn't be a shiny new 'Mech waiting when then touched down.  Hell, even with the insurance and passing-the-hat they would be lucky to find her a Stinger or Wasp that wasn't half broken down.

Kurt's dark thoughts continued as he un-strapped and climbed down from his 'Mech and received his handouts.  He found a spot he figured was out of the way, and set up.  His unit worked well again, and they help the others achieve their objectives for the most part, though not without significant loss of their own resources.  Overall, this one would most likely go down as a success, but Kurt couldn't feel it in his heart when he looked over at the young woman.
This message was last edited by the player at 03:14, Thu 22 May 2014.

In reply to Kitten (msg # 276):
Kurt awoke suddenly.  He didn't even remember going to sleep.  It must have been the crash from living on pure adrenaline for the past few days.  Or, was it weeks?  It was hard to remember now.  The quiet thrum of the Dropship; the regimented ballet of the techs moving about and over the 'Mechs.  All of it was a strange comfort in what seemed like the least likely of places.

He got up, stretched sore aching muscles, and lined up with his field kit for a basin wash, and fast shave.  A precious sliver of deodorant remained and he was grateful for small comforts.  He then checked in with the techs working on his 'Mech.  He was informed that the internals, armour, and reloads would not be an issue, but that they didn't have a compatible Medium Laser to replace the second Defiance B3M that he had destroyed in as many days.  Not good news.  His launchers were good, but that Medium would be missed if he was pressed into combat before a replacement could be found.

Kurt makes it a point to check in with the other two members of his lance.  He was starting to grow found of them, and hoped that if the units were forced to re-shuffle, that he would be able to pull a few strings and hold on to them.

Inevitably, a game of cards broke out on one of the train cars.  Cards were dealt, lies were told, and time passed on.  The jumps were the only break in the long drawn out pauses.  Kurt was grateful when they finally arrived at Omni.

In reply to Kitten (msg # 280):

Kurt greeted Cadet Margaret warmly, extending his hand to her.  He makes no protest about letting Omni's techs work on his 'Mech, they are his employer, and if they want to look, he is not about to say no.  He does question Cadet Margaret on their walk "Officer Candidate, Cadet Margaret" he says with only the slightest hint of jest in his voice.  " What does the colour of uniform denote?"  He waits for an answer before quickly shifting mental gears on her, trying to throw her off.  "What's the main purpose of this spaceport?  We can all see that it is set up to ship large volume of cargo, but Omni is not known for its aggressive marketing of its products.  What are the main imports and exports going on here?"

Kurt gets to his private room, and muses that rank maybe does have its privileges.  Seeing as how they have some downtime, Kurt tries to round up the rest of his lance to see if they're up for a little exploring of the local scene.  A lesser man might note that this place seems to be a "target rich environment" for a male of the species, but Kurt was above that.  A little bonding with his men would be good for morale.

After an insightful three days, Kurt follows the blonde woman to the mission debriefing.  He can tell from her tone and body language that she was obviously use to command, and he could feel his own posture shift in response.  He held himself a little straighter, almost at attention, as if he were back at the Nagalring.

Kurt noticed the slight difference in exchanges between the woman and her "sister" in the Valkyries.  This was business, and he was here to talk business.  Kurt begins by cutting right down to the heart of the matter.  "This place is shiny and modern; the beds are soft and comfy, but downtime is lost time.  When do we re-deploy?  I am assuming there is another contract to be discussed?"

"Well, that went about as well as I could have expected." Helia mused to herself. It was hard to get a read on the returning veterans. Even a fool would know that there was a difference between test runs and training drills, no matter how rigorous, but her brief encounter with the mercenaries gave her no clues as to how she might prepare herself. Regardless, it was clear that being away from Eden had left it's mark.

Over the next few days, Helia makes an effort to spend more time in the Hangar and about the base, looking for opportunities to learn more about the offworlders and her new Lancemates.

Akarian, exited the ancient mongoose and climbed down its red exterior. Supposedly it had seen onwards to three hundred years of use, having been passed down the generations, until finally arriving in his own hands. It surely didn't look that old, or at least not on the outside. In truth so much of the mech had been replaced through out the years by its various owners that in many ways it wasn't. Or at least on the outside, the inside was quite a different story.

As he was escorted away to quarters, he hoped this next contract would see him being much more active. After all Phoenix was a mech that lived in combat, and had been reborn several times as the stories went. Simple patrol duties and such tasks while paying the bills, wasn't going to meet the expectations of his house.

Margaret seems pleased that some of the mercs seemed inclined to conversation.  Maybe they werent all knuckle dragging primates like some of the others joked at.  Margaret takes Kurt's teasing in good stride and doesnt seem defensive about it.  She was rather pleased to be an officer candidate, and actually requested the position to liason with the mercs while they were here to observe how they worked.  It seemed fair to exchange information so she freely answered his questions.

"Oh... the uniforms... they're actually just clothes.  Uniforms issued from the academy.  It's a quick way to tell at a glance a cadets specialty.  White is technical... Red is Aero... Green is conventional infantry... and Blue ...", she tugsg at the sleeve of her uniform, "Is Mechwarriors.  The ones in black... are the freshmen class and havent picked an area of specialty yet and are following the core curriculum of the school till they settle on a their major."

Margaret continues to discuss things in a conversational manner asking him how operations went on Burton.  The logistical details... the tactical ones... and how the results of the mission went.  She quickly starts to feel like a kid sister to Kurt.  Bright and Intelligent, but she's missing the killer instinct that you find in most Mechwarriors.  You can see why they hire mercs to do their dirty work, if this was par for the military talent dirt side.

"We're primary into imports and exports.  We import raw material and goods from around the periphery and refine it into finished goods to export out.  Manufacture and production is our primary industry.  We maintain a fairly high standard of living her on Omni.

We also tend to draw a lot of tourist.  It's a temperate climate most of the year, and a budding entertainment industry has started developing to cater to the potential income from tourism."

(more soon)

Ana Saluted Evan's when the captain greeted them.
"Ma'am.

My report will be on your desk tomorrow.
When should I expect The technical department to come by for an interview regarding the X-3c?"

----

Helia hadn't seen much of Ana during their ride... She'd been busy drafting reports for various people back at Eden, and reviewing the various misisons.

Still she'd seen her around once in a while, managing a mercenary unit certainly seemed to be hard work.

finally after they'd Landed and Ana had delivered the various reports, she took her time to look the new pilot and her shiny new mech over.

"Welcome to the Valkyries Helia, I must apologize for my lack of time during our flgiht ehre, but i had to work on reports while i still had the raid fresh in mind."

she looked a datapad over, then back at Helia.
"I understand you'll be piloting a 3-X power loader, a good solid mech.</red >
She nodded at the girl, then smiled.
<red>"I also noticed you've got pods for multiple setups, which would be your primory loadout?"
This message was last edited by the player at 14:43, Thu 22 May 2014.

Echo had a day to decompress the events of the last few weeks before the expected knock came to her door.

Dr Ward came to visit Echo's first night back on Omni.  Arrangements were made to debrief over a casual late dinner.

"We have a lot of ground to cover tonight, but i have to admit, i have serious serious concerns over your run in with mother.", Dr. Ward commented as she poured them both a drink to break the ice.

"It was an interesting moment.  I'm glad i got to experience the... adrenaline... of combat, but in retrospect, i wouldnt want to live in the moment the way some of the mercs do.", Echo answers honestly.  It was an educational experience but she wasnt cut like the mercs... she wasnt even close to the mentality Lina had, "I would be doomed to a life of mediocre if i did.", she comments with a bit of color on her cheeks.

"Agreed.  I've spoken to Pandora about it, she think it would be a waste of your talent if you ended up a smear somewhere on the end of a bar of depleted uranium."

"It in my self interest to agree with that.", Echo comments having a brief flash back of Mother looming over her, "... but... what other options are there?"

Echo was leery.  This conversation was going somewhere... she just wasnt sure where.

Pandora was the CEO of Omni Tech, and guided the technical innovations produced by the company.  She was careful about how and where such technical wonders as what was produced on Omni were directed.

Omni had prospered and it's influence in the periphery had expanded through peaceful trade.  They were on the verge of making break through in roads on the Federated Suns and Combine's markets.  There was only one problem.  The Taurian Concordat had taken notice of their influence... as well as their woeful state to engage in prolonged conflict.  They were expanding their borders, and gobbling up periphery planets at an alarming rate.

Their latest efforts on Detroit were barely contained and exposed.  Team Banzai did not take kindly to having their reputation smeared with war crimes and were doing an admirable job of cleaning up the mess on Detroit.  The Concordat would be foolish to risk open war with the Federated Suns while they were involved and so... that problem was contained.

The raid on Burton had been messy but... not without rewards.  There were reams of intel being gathered from the command center that Danielle had helped take.  A freight car full of priority research would help Dr. Ward understand exactly what the Concordat was up to and where they were getting their research from.  That was a messy problem that was going to have to be dealt with the EMP technology was left on the draftboard, because the design and use has terrible collateral damage potential.  The use off one in the wrong place at the wrong time could shut down key technical resources at crucial moments.  It was something judged too unpleasant for any one to have... and yet the Taurians had them.

The meeting with the merc commanders went as planned.  Discussions of the work done, and compensations for that work done were balanced with the expenses incurred on their behalf.  They were men of war... not finances... her particular forte.  It would have been easy to cut them down and whittle them into financial ruin, but that would have been barbaric, as well as short sighted.  They needed each other, and it was more productive to engage in a partnership of trust.

So as the beans were counted and tallied, Pandora made the offer to help fit the mercenary units with Advance equipment and weapons at 'cost'.  She would also discuss with Dr. Ward, the possibility of supplying them with more comprehensive technical support in the field.

The meeting with Pandora concluded with the brief discussion that a situation was being monitored 'in system' that might require the merc's attention.  That she would monitor the situation and contact them should the decision be made that their services would be required.

Till then the mercs were on their well deserved leave.

<hr.

From the mercs perspective, they left the meeting feeling as if they had been engaged in some sort of boardroom hostile engagement.  The nuances of business and finance was not something any of them specialized in, but they ran their companies and understood the concept of the bottom line.

Things were looking bleak at the meeting as the cost of transport from planet to planet were considered, the operation cost of materials to keep them fit in fighting... the cost of payoffs to gather and implement intel... dozens of expenses they had never really considered were bought up and justified an expense against the bottom line that could leave them in the red and in their debt indefinitely.

It was a humbling experience that left some egos wounded and pride hurt.  It was the sort of contract shenanigans that you expected for the Capellans or Combine that just had a way of turning your stomach.  Do a good job and get punished for it.  It was the sort of treatment that made you really really really angry.

Then at the end of the meeting... when they should have been putting up the flag of victory over them, Pandora swept the expenses off the table and offers her thanks for a job well done.  Reasonable compensation was offered for a job well done, as well as an offer to help equip them with Eden's Technically superior weapons.  The promise of technical support was a welcome surprise to cap the meeting to an end.

It left most of the merc commanders wondering what just happened.  Except... maybe Anastasia who seemed unconcerned through out the meeting and unmoved with the results by the end.  Pandora was a brilliant business woman, who had expanded Omni's influence through the periphery.  It was no surprise to her that they were at her whim in the financial arena.  It was also no surprise to her that she had settled the accounts fairly... even generously in light of the situation.  Her mind was already off the situation and moving on to what exactly might be happening ... on Omni no less... that would require their attention.  Was there really a military threat this close to home?
This message was last updated by the GM at 12:52, Thu 22 May 2014.

Lina had been quiet most of the ride, a most uncharacteristic attitude for her.  When they had landed on Omni she had helped move her X-3a off the Mule with mixed feelings and a lot of thoughts on her mind.  Her power loader had done well but had been beaten down pretty badly in mission after mission.  While she had been able to put out some dangerous firepower it had been at a pretty hefty cost.

She knew she needed to talk to her sister Megan but didn't know if she was off-planet on assignment or not.  Regardless she needed to do a whole lot of paperwork to not only see about her repairs but she had caught rumor about some of the gear they hauled off planet.  If she had some luck, and the help of her sister putting in a good word, she might be able to become half the mechwarrior she wanted.

Lina's sister Meg was actually around to discuss with stuff.

The 101st Air wing were doing fly by information gathering sorties in system, gathering information on mining the asteroid field for ores and possible rare materials.  Why jump the stuff in system, if something more local could be found?

They had the warm sisterly hug and pleasantries before settling down to business.

Meg was flamboyant... go lucky... and had the carefree nature that most Aero pilots had that flitted with death, everytime they flew sorties against Omni's enemies.

"I saw you did good work on Detroit.  Sorry i couldnt fly cover for you on Burton.  That was a pure smash and grab operation and the 101st had some other problems that needed attending to.", Meg made a face at an unpleasant memory before flitting back to he buoyant nature.

"I see you made it back from Detroit... but... you're not happy?", Meg tilts her head slightly giving the closest thing she had to a biological sister a questioning look of concern.

While his duties were light and unexciting on Burton, Akarian found them to be barely profitable as well.  The Freelancers were staying over on some periphery mudball, called Omni.  While they were little heard of in the Inner Sphere they seemed to be well known with growing influence out on the Periphery.

There was a small army of Techs and Astechs waiting for the mercs to land.  A small sea of black jumpsuits, and the occasion white ones directing them here and there.

There were a few in green jumpsuits, carrying significant light arms providing security for the whole affair.  No small concern since there seemed to be small fortune in equipment lying about.  Most every tool a tech might need was around... dozens of them about actually.  The store house of parts seemed mind boggling as well.  It felt large enough to act as a Quatermaster's station for a Brigade or Small regiment.  It was suffice to say that their mechs were probably going to be well tended to.

A few minutes later he was led off to a cushy room where the first hot shower and soft bed awaited him in weeks.