Golden Fox
January 3153
Alborg
Forcefully exhaling a cloud of breath as Galmand pressed forward with his Hestr, the plow tore out a patch of cold ground. He had been working on it for at least a few minutes, pushing the plow with all his might to aid Joarr in the work. Galmand was slender yet capable due to his personal desire to not live the cushy lift the Skjolden Clan had secured so far from the Inner Sphere.
Sure, since the departure from the Inner Sphere his family was one of the two most prosperous families on Alborg, however, he could witness many of his cousins bloating from a life of ease. They seemed to think their specialty pistol of the most precious metals would be all they needed in life outside of their status. He scoffed at willingly disengaging from any challenge physically, it made them too soft, especially considering the historic ties they held to conquerors.
As they continued to move, tearing out roots and stone, the feeling of accomplishment swelled within him. He had just completed his last row for the field. These fields would be thriving with vegetables to feed the population his family ruled over in the coming months. He took a second to breathe, placing his dirt covered arm, streaked from sweat onto the plow as Joarr stood still awaiting his master’s next command. Galmand suspected Joarr was relieved from completing the field preparation as well.
Looking around, Galmand could see other workers around him, some planting the crops, some handling other farmstead duties. A couple workers looked over at him, he waved and they did in return before returning to work. While he knew these people respected him for even being out there with them; he also knew they were terrified that something could be wrong if he stopped and if he was injured his father would be… quick to anger.
After a couple minutes of taking a breather, he led Joarr forward. It didn’t even look like the plow provided any resistance and silently laughed to himself, curious if any pushing he did provided any help at all. Once out of the field, Galmand got the plow disconnected from the cables. Joarr reared up whinnying and dropped back down, causing the ground to shake, cracking the cold ground below him.
There was time to rinse off the dirt before supper. While his father entertained the idea of him helping out and being a “man of the people”, he expected his son to present himself well at family dinner in the evenings. Scaling up Joarr, he steered the hestr toward the family’s estate. He typically planned to help with the farthest fields because this early evening ride back was a cherished time. The sunset was brilliant as it broke through the cloudy skies. Much of the estate was encircled by a wall of trees, in a cutout of a huge forest and the light would radiate through the treetops.
Galloping along he would pass by workers who would nod their heads at him or shout the clan’s motto, “Landet, himlen, folket, vi er Skjolden!”. It originated when the first settlers arrived on the world and the Clans went off on their own. A glorious time of conquering the land and building a future, while staying united. ‘The land, the sky, the people, we are Skjolden’.
His residence was near the main estate home and when he arrived, he stabled up Joarr and proceeded to get cleaned. Turning on the vidscreen once inside, he kept the volume low just for background noise as he jumped into the shower without waiting for it to warm up, the cold felt amazing after the hard day’s labor, then warmed into a cozy temperature. Reaching for the soap, he knocked over a bottle he wasn’t used to just yet. His kæreste, his new love, she was starting to leave her stuff around his place when she visited. Grinning, he rolled his eyes as he went “great!” out loud then picked up the bottle of hair product.
Content with the cleanup and rinsing out his black hair he proceeded to dry and get dressed for dinner. The family preference was attire that had a classical look to it. While much of the estate was updated with modern amenities and technology, there was still an olde-time feel to it. Much of the inside of his residence had exposed wooden beams and wooden accents. The lighting had the look of lamps and darker hues of paint around the interiors. Combined with the view out the main windows to include the forest and a river running through the estate, it looked like a cabin sitting in the forest.
While putting on his slacks and suspenders he could overhear the news report on the screen behind him, “…a dropship has been moving toward Alborg, initial reports show they are a diplomatic vessel interested in establishing trade with their new nation, the nine families appear to be meeting with them tomorrow. Now, on to the forecast…”
“Ah, I wonder if that is going to be the topic of this evening’s discussion…” Galmand said aloud. He finished getting his jacket and hat on, then exited his residence.
Passing a few workers who had closed up their shops for the evening, they nodded to each other, then he was joined by a young woman. Sharing his black hair, her long locks were silky and extended down to her mid back. With blue eyes that matched her blue dress, she was always one for looking her best. Annimari, his younger sister often jabbed at him for his work out in the fields. She was sweet and humble, unlike their older sister and brothers.
“Well you look handsome this evening, brother.” She said with a smirk as she approached him, reaching out for him as he extended his arm to escort her to dinner.
“I can’t let you be the only one dressing up all fancy-like.” He said in return, nudging her with his elbow.
It was a nice walk up to the Skjolden Manor, the last of the sunlight had set and the lights along the walkway illuminated their path. Their mother always loved to decorate and had the estate staff constantly at work. Trees had small lights wrapped around them and the branches with lights hanging between the larger walkway lights. It had a feel of being magical, like a fantasy story from when they were children.
Approaching the entry to the Manor two of the staff opened the doors, welcoming Annimari and Galmand inside. Soon enough, they were with the rest of the family and they all began some small talk as the staff was completing final dinner preparations. After about fifteen minutes or so, the chiming of a knife on a wine glass quieted the room down. It was Galmand’s father, the head of the Skjolden Clan, Reidor.
Everyone turned to look at him as he ascended a trio of steps to a landing that held a couple of instruments for events like parties. A couple of his grandchildren were playing on the steps and stopped to watch. “Welcome home everyone. It is great to have the kids, grandkids, and everyone here. However, the reason for this gathering is to share some information. Some of you may have caught the basics from the news that a dropship is inbound to Alborg. It is true, they have said they are here for diplomatic purposes. However, the ship’s insignia is worrisome. It is a sword.”
Looking at Galmand, he continued, “Galmand, enjoy your dinner tonight but afterwards, I want you to the cellar; we may need the Fox.” Galmand nodded in return. “As for everyone else, the Manor’s wings have been set up for everyone to stay here. I want all of you to be here, should anything go awry tomorrow.”
A few “Yes, father” responses from his own children came back in return. While he was not a severe father, he had both earned and was worthy of their respect. With that, he motioned toward the table and supper was served. All in all, it was a fun evening, the grandchildren were excited to stay at ‘Grandpa’s house’ and Galmand’s mother was excited for getting to tuck the little ones into bed.
As the goodbyes commenced and everyone departed into their wings, Galmand moved towards the stairs to the cellar. His dress shoes slipped slightly on the tile floor from what felt like sand. As he reached the ninety-degree turn in the stairs, he found a pile of sandbags. Reaching the lower level, he found Kriger teams preparing defensive positions.
Even though there was no standing army, there were still clusters of warriors capable of offensive and defensive action. Clearly, his father was preparing the cellar to be used as the bunker it was designed to be. Two Kriger dipped their heads as he passed them. He activated the bullet proof doors and they slid apart to show a hallway that was further fortified.
After passing through a corridor and past a number of doorways that were offices, bedrooms, and some recreational rooms, he entered the main hangar. Standing before him was the Skjolden Wolfhound, the Golden Fox. Techs were climbing on it, verifying all was in order. He turned to enter the MechWarrior’s quarters and stripped down, putting on his cooling vest. Even in a light mech, it would still run hot enough to cook someone alive. His compression short briefs were modified to holster his side arm and carry a small holoscreen. His combat boots were all that he wore otherwise.
Returning to the main hangar, he went over to the training pod and powered it up. As he waited for the machine to complete the process, he continued to gaze over the Wolfhound. It was truly an awe-inspiring family heirloom. Some pilots never actually fielded it; they were so accustomed to peace on the Jarnfolk worlds. However, the training pod certainly got its use. He was pilot number One and should he be unable, pilot number Two was Annimari.
Finally, the pod signaled it was fully operational and the hatch opened on it. Galmand turned to step in but, first he caught a glance at the catwalk across the hangar, it was his father and Annimari talking. He also caught a glimpse of Kleo, his girlfriend, next to Annimari. They waved to each other, then he entered his pod. While she could not arrive in time for dinner, that his father invited her to the estate showed the respect Reidor had for Galmand. Hooking up his vest and placing his neurohelmet, it was time to focus on what could be life and death….
Galmand had spent the evening in the pod, preparing for anything. He had altered handicaps on his own simulated mech and ran through various difficulties and terrains. While he normally trained at least once a day to avoid getting rusty, he was not normally having to train with the very real possibility something could go bad. His adrenaline was pumping and sleep did not come easily for him, even with Kleo’s warmth.
Everyone was up early the next morning and the family was in the upper level of the cellar, enjoying some recreational activities. Galmand’s father departed even earlier to meet with the other families at the Christiana Spaceport and prepare the welcome party and honor guard.
The Jarnfolk gave off the appearance of not having Battlemechs. Of course, the secret of the Golden Fox had never escaped the nation because any aggressors that landed did not leave. Violence outside of family blood feuds was unacceptable and while it was a rare occasion some pirates or mercenaries were allowed to assimilate through hard labor though most chose death through choice or their stubbornness.
It seemed that today, someone wanted to test the Jarnfolk resolve….
Reaching the top speed of 111 KPH, Galmand was flying down the road toward Christiana, it would take less than thirty minutes from the estate to the city. As he merged onto the highway, he could see cars moving away from the city, at least trying to in the gridlock. His side of the roadway was empty.
With only plumes of smoke in sight to navigate towards he had time to see the people on the roads, the ones who were moving on foot, abandoning their cars. Some looked on in shock, others in terror, and others were cheering. Golden Fox’s armor was painted in a design very similar to the decorative designs on the Clan’s weapons that circulated in the general population, and their crest was adorned across the shoulder armor.
He needed to keep going at maximum velocity, there was no telling if his father was still alive or not. These “diplomats” that disembarked the dropship looked like religious fanatics, dressed in robes and holding tomes. From what he and the others could see, things looked to be going fine. Then three Battlemechs emerged from the cargo bay and began laying waste to the spaceport. Then the robes came off and what looked like cyborgs began lunging at the honor guard. Only for a second before the camera was hit, he could tell there were battle armor troopers deploying as well.
Reaching the end of the highway, he had to pick a street and keep moving. Only a few blocks were between him and the spaceport. People were in the streets, slowing him down as they scattered to get out of the way. He stepped on and over cars. He reached the first intersection, checking left and right but, didn’t see any weapons fire. Continuing forward, he reached the next intersection, when he turned left, he could see a Battlemech walking away from him about 200 meters out. It was just razing the buildings around it and murdering civilians without hesitation.
In fact, he could see small arms fire beyond the mech, which seemed to be the mech’s target. His Angel ECM must have been doing a great job because it was clear the mech did not see him. However, what did make him nervous was the fact that it was a medium Battlemech, a Preta Prime, according to his HUD. After a couple seconds to cool off from some weapons fire, the Preta opened up again, and that is when Galmand pushed the Golden Fox toward the invader.
Accelerating quickly, he would soon have his ER Small Lasers in range of the rear armor. Lining up the shot on the nearly still mech, he fired. First to hit was his Large Re-Engineered Laser, it pierced right through the left rear torso. Two ER Small Lasers hit the rear center but, the third lined up on the rear left torso as well. It was the lucky shot as an explosion ripped through the back of the section.
Chunks of armor launched into the air and the building to the mech’s left. Cooking off the anti-missile system ammo bin was his hope. Rocking hard to its right, the Preta fell into the building on that side, its arm going through the glass panes. Trying to correct from the fall, the mech’s left leg extended laterally to get a wider stance. By now though, the Golden Fox was upon the Preta, adding a swift kick to that left leg that wasn’t braced yet.
In a painful looking display, the left leg continued out laterally, causing the Preta to fall in a split, snapping hip actuators in the process. It toppled forward after landing on the ground. Before Galmand could continue attacking, police and civilians alike swarmed the mech, hosing down the cockpit ferroglass with their small arms. Jarnfolk didn’t have big guns but they sure did pack a punch. In seconds, the ferroglass caved in and the people began cheering as the mech stopped moving.
Going to his external speakers Galmand began to take charge, “Jarnfolk! They have violated our people, rally and follow me to the spaceport!” His Wolfhound stood above the now dead Preta, his people chanting his mech’s name as it was painted onto a torso panel. Beginning to warcry he could see them jumping off the Preta, motioning people forward. They began pouring into the street parallel to the one he was turning to travel down, as well as following his mech. An old quote he recalled, “When one man takes a stand, the spines of others are often stiffened.”
With that thought he turned right, towards the direction of the spaceport once more, checking each corner as he came to each intersection. With about two more intersections to go, he turned at the one he was at and found his newly formed militia down the street to his left swarming a couple battle armor troopers who were trying to retreat. One trooper was taken down just in sheer volume of bodies jumping on him. The other lost balance from volume of small arms fire. However, the street contained a number of still bodies and red pools of Jarnfolk blood.
Galmand continued forward, seeing his countrymen rallying against this cowardly enemy that hid in sheep’s clothing. A last glance showed that multiple streets parallel to his mech’s movement were starting to have groups of armed citizens moving forward on line with him. He faced forward as the Wolfhound continued walking, his sights set on getting to his father and the Clan leaders.
Accelerating to stay ahead of his people and potentially take any initial attention, his Wolfhound ran up to the street that ran along the spaceport wall. The much taller buildings on the other side of the wall helped to keep him concealed from anything on the tarmac, however, he could just make out the nose of the dropship over the buildings.
While trying to stay quiet was of little use in a Battlemech, he placed the mech’s left hand on the wall and one by one, threw the mech’s legs over. After touching down on the spaceport side of the wall, he could see citizens scaling the wall and funneling toward entry points. Turning his Wolfhound around, he began to check around the nearest building. Taking a peek around the left side of the building, there was the canopy that had been established for the meeting. Holes were riddled through it with burn marks, along with multiple bodies. However, there was a group being led away to the far side of the tarmac, toward the flight control tower.
Activating his HUD’s zoom, he could see the group contained multiple family leaders who had their hands restrained behind their backs. At the tower, two Battle Armor troopers were posted at the doors, which Galmand could only assume meant that they had cleared the building. He shifted his mech to peek around the right side of the building he was behind to see the dropship a little bit better. There were no exposed weapon emplacements, nothing that looked like missile tubes, “That must have been how they pulled off the ploy by not looking aggressive…” he said to himself aloud.
Turning back, he again looked around the left side of the building, the delegation was still walking toward the tower, he only had another minute or so until they reached the building. A flash caught his eye off to his left though. There was a full-on battle raging at the gates between the Jarnfolk and enemy Battle Armor and the invader’s own conventional infantry. It looked like a blockade of overturned cars had been set up by the enemies in a hasty defense.
‘Now is the time to act’, he thought, as he raised his Wolfhound’s right arm and hit one of the vehicles with his Large Re-Laser, causing it to explode, blowing a hole right through the defensive line. For a moment he took all of the attention of the enemies using the cars as cover from the Jarnfolk. This was followed by his countrymen surging through the lull in the shooting. It turned into a violent close combat encounter.
With that, he looked to check on the group walking again to see them turning toward the chaos at the front gate, some even looking in his direction. A hooded figure started pointing erratically toward the gate and the two Battle Armor troopers at the tower started running in that direction. With that, Galmand surged forward, hoping his analysis of the dropship was correct as he had zero experience with military vessels. He just knew that he had to keep the Jarnfolk’s momentum going.
Breaking into a full run, he was going to reach the group in seconds. Avoiding tunnel vision as his father had always warned, he kept looking around, and he spotted a Jenner Battlemech moving back from the city toward the front gate. What he recalled from the video feed, that was one of the two remaining mechs, but the third was much larger and he had not seen it yet.
The Jenner turned though, obviously having spotted him, lifting into the air on plumes of flame, launching over the wall directly toward him. A quartet of Medium Lasers fired, only one striking his Wolfhound’s left arm. In return he aimed his Large Re-Laser and fired, slicing into the enemy Jenner’s left leg, causing sparks to erupt from whatever he hit. The mech came down from the jump hard, landing on both feet but, collapsing and skidding toward him. He adjusted his run and ran up to the Jenner as it was trying to stand, firing all four of his lasers into it.
Hitting the Center and Left Torso mostly, the left arm fell away from the Jenner and slammed into the tarmac, the jump jets also began bleeding plasma from the leg damage. Standing up, the Jenner again unleashed the two remaining lasers it had, this time paired with an SRM4. One of the warheads slammed into Galmand’s ferroglass canopy, cracking it as the two Medium Lasers ate away at his left torso in return. Of the remaining three SRMs, one hit his Center Torso and the other two corkscrewed off behind him.
Quickly, while he had the initiative, he swung his mech’s leg out and kicked the Jenner, ripping off the already damaged left leg. Falling again, twisting too hard to the right in an attempt to counterbalance, the Jenner hit hard on the Center Torso’s underbelly. It was nearly unable to move as it sprawled around on the ground, luckily facing away from the group of Clan leaders.
Turning his attention back to the group, who was now scuffling as the leaders resisted the captors more aggressively, he fired his Large Re-Laser at the tower doors, melting the doorframe and collapsing the entryway. This caused the group to stop. At this point the captors were holding guns to the heads of the Clan leaders, his external audio could pick up yelling and screaming at him as his Wolfhound stood above them, slowly approaching.
Other sounds he could hear was the general yelling of an angry mob. Dozens of Jarnfolk had breached the front gate, the enemy troopers had been overwhelmed. Taking a second to use his 360 degree viewscreen, he could see back and to his left that like they had done to the Preta, the citizens had swarmed the Jenner. He could even make out some of the classic insults his people were known for as they pulled the dead pilot from the cockpit.
Using his external audio system while aggressively pointing his damaged left arm at them, “Aggressors, stand down now and release the Clan leaders. The Jarnfolk do not tolerate this unwarranted aggression. Stand down!” Galmand yelled, his voice finding more strength as he talked.
One by one, the guns of the invaders began to lower as they began to bicker among themselves. Then the Wolfhound lurched from a massive impact on its torso. Shards of metal plating flew in all directions. A couple flashes from the direction of the dropship severed his left arm he had been pointing at the group of leaders with. His Wolfhound twisted to his left, falling onto the ground.
“You whelp, how dare you think a mob of angry citizens will reject Blake’s Light. We have brought a gift to this backwater nation and you will accept it!” shouted an angry voice over the open channels.
Galmand scrambled to get the Golden Fox to its feet. He could see a number of citizens were now using the downed Jenner as cover. He took off to take cover behind the tower, taking a barrage of lasers to his right torso and leg as he moved. Just as he reached concealment a huge chunk of the tower blew off right behind him from another Heavy Gauss slug.
A Caesar was far larger and far more powerful than the Wolfhound he was running and it had taken him by surprise, emerging from the dropship on the end of the tarmac. He could feel additional heat now too, as his fusion engine was showing damage on his HUD. Looking out toward the citizens, he could see pulse lasers being fired into the crowd, some people being vaporized immediately, a number of them had taken cover where he was.
He looked his Wolfhound down towards the citizens hiding near him, a couple of them were really hunkered down, in absolute fear. “Listen up everyone!” he said to them over his audio system. “We are the Jarnfolk! This is our chance to repel them!”
“Lord Skjolden!” returned a man’s voice, “That mech is far larger than your own, we don’t have the firepower to take it down without mechs!”
“You are right brother! But we must try!” Galmand looked over his HUD, he was as ready as he could be to fight enemies of his people but to actually take charge and lead them in the absence of the Clan leaders? He had to think of something…
His people did not use mechs, so what could bring down a mech? Obviously, his Large Re-Laser was very dangerous but he could not go toe to toe or even take another full volley from that Caesar. “Is anyone here Kriger?!” he yelled.
“I was a decade ago”, an older man raised his arm up.
“You know about the armory here on the spaceport right? For the security teams on the fleets?” Galmand asked.
“Yes, I’ve been there a lot, we don’t have mech grade weapons in there, son.” He responded.
“We don’t need a mech grade weapon”, now speaking to the entire group, “listen up all of you! I am going to open a hole in this wall so you can get under the tower to the armory, get the Stor Riffel and get up to the tower.” Galmand popped his mech’s hatch and threw his personal armory card down to the man. Yelling down, “Make it fast, we won’t have long and the Golden Fox doesn’t have much fight left in it.”
Resealing his cockpit, he aimed his small lasers at the wall, cutting a hole through it for the citizens to enter. The group disappeared inside.
Returning his focus back to the carnage out in front of the tower, the citizens had suffered severe casualties, those that were left hid behind the Jenner and other nearby small buildings. Gouges in the tarmac showed where the Heavy Gauss Rifle had torn out the ground and burn marks streaked all over from the laser fire from the Caesar.
He brought the Wolfhound’s right arm around the corner and fired at the Caesar, carving up the left torso before quickly taking cover once more. This time the Caesar responded fast enough as multiple lasers carved off right torso and right arm armor. Most of Galmand’s Wolfhound was red or orange on his HUD damage indicator.
What was worse and gave him the feel of hopelessness was seeing where the Clan leaders were, they were being dragged forcibly towards the dropship. If they were able to lift off with the leaders that would be a massive blow to the Jarnfolk. He looked up at the tower and saw an external door on the catwalk open up. Watching intently, he saw a body fall out of the doorway – one of the invaders.
Continuing to watch he could see one of the citizens crawl over the body and wave down to him, giving the ‘thumbs up’. He could only have faith that the old Kriger was ready. This was their last chance to make this work, he opened up on the external audio so that any citizens still in the area could hear him, “Landet, himlen, folket, vi er Skjolden!” was what he shouted as he burst out of cover at full speed, running straight for the Caesar. A roar of warcries from the Jarnfolk around the tarmac filled the air.
Galmand’s target was focused on tearing up a building off to its left where some citizens were hiding but, it quickly spun to meet the Wolfhound. Slamming into the Caesar, the Wolfhound did little damage and hurt itself even more. Managing to get off a single shot from the Large Re-Laser into the left torso of the Caesar, it was all the Golden Fox had left in it. The impact caused the exposed fusion engine’s shielding to crack, venting waves of heat, then powered down.
The Light mech stood before the much larger Caesar, absolutely torn to shreds. Looking down on it, the Caesar pilot taunted the citizens on his own external audio, “This is all you lot can muster? Fancy guns mean nothing against a Battlemech!” he laughed hysterically, standing still, looming over the Wolfhound.
Galmand stared up through his cracked ferroglass shield, snarling with his teeth defiantly as the Caesar shifted slightly, the massive Heavy Gauss barrel just a couple meters from the Wolfhound’s cockpit.
“Any last words, whelp?” he asked mockingly.
“Landet, himlen, folket, vi er Skjolden!” Galmand yelled back in defiance, followed by a loud crack, echoing across the tarmac.
Reidor Skjolden jerked back on the invader yanking him towards the dropship hearing the loud sound. He squinted and held back as firmly as he could against his captor. The half man half machine was incredibly strong, much more than a regular man. Looking back, he could see parts of his son’s Wolfhound around the silhouette of the Caesar with some scattered on the tarmac around the mech’s feet. He was unsure what the sound was and could feel tears forming at his eyes.
Seconds ticked by as he resisted his captors, trying to see what was happening as they dragged him and the others toward their dropship. His heart sunk though, seeing the Wolfhound lose balance and fall backwards, away from the Caesar, crashing down. Reidor could not see if there was any chance Galmand was alive.
All he could focus on was the mech toppling over, jerking as hard as he could to pull away from the captor. He found himself in the same tunnel vision he had always warned Galmand not to find himself in. The mechs seemed to be moving closer and closer to him, almost like a dream. Then he realized he was moving, he had to breathe, he gasped for breath. Blinking rapidly, he continued running towards his son, now recognizing images blur past him on his sides. It was like a crowd was passing him with people all around. Flashes of light from some.
By the time he reached the Golden Fox a group of citizens had surrounded the head of the machine. His hands still bound, he ran around, pushing through the crowd, the people making way for him when they realized who he was. Someone caught him for a second and was able to slice the restraints. He came around the left shoulder panel, melted from prior laser fire…
And the mech’s head was still there. He called out, “Galmand!”
Of a couple men standing on the mech’s chest and around the cockpit, the closest ones turned. There in the middle, being held up was Galmand. Reidor scaled the mech up and embraced his son. Finally, his own tunnel vision had subsided, hearing the cheering and talking in all around him.
From the fall, Galmand hit hard and was knocked out for a few minutes, he had some blood running down his right cheek with a hasty headwrap around his head. Looking up to see what had happened, the Caesar was standing there, still looming over them. A hole in the cockpit disrupted the clean reflection of the sky. Reidor’s face looked shocked.
“Father, the tower.” Galmand said grinning, both looking up. There was the Kriger with the Stor Riffel. He was waving down to the crowd that was cheering.
“What of our attackers?” Reidor asked.
“Father, the people, our countrymen have won the day.” Both turned to look between the massive legs of the stationary Caesar. There was a mass of citizens that had swarmed the dropship and the hangar who were the blurs that passed by as Reidor ran toward his son’s mech. Once inside, there was no stopping them, their specialized personal arms would be enough to blast through doors and disable the ship, even if they couldn’t reach the bridge.
“You did it son, you are the Golden Fox.” Reidor said with pride, looking his son in the eyes while his hands rested on his son’s shoulders. “Landet, himlen, folket, vi er Skjolden!” They both said in unison, rising to a shout with the crowd’s cheering.
“Ni Råd, Clan leaders, the Council of Nine has officially begun its first meeting”, announced Reidor Skjolden. While only eight separate Clans remained of the original nine, they wanted to honor their heritage.
“Here, here!” the Clan leaders called out in unison from their positions around a large, circular table.
Two of the Clan leaders from the meeting on the tarmac had been murdered in the chaos so now their spouses took their places. The first order of business was the defense of their nation. It was a monumental feat that Galmand, a well-trained yet, green MechWarrior, was able to lead the retaliation against the aggressors however, if there is a next time, the Jarnfolk may not be so lucky.
Unanimously the Clans decided to merge their governing and finances. Over time, each Clan had built up significant wealth from their specialty exports and private sales. It was time to build a standing army and purchase Battlemechs for the defense of their worlds. Galmand was chosen to lead an expedition to the Inner Sphere with the Skjolden Jàrnskib fleet to secure Battlemechs and mercenaries. It was a classic idea – bring in mercenaries to protect your worlds while you trained up your own warriors.
In the meantime, given that the Stor Riffel was capable of stopping even a mech of the size of a Caesar, they ramped up production at exponentially higher rates with numerous Kriger personnel getting them and being trained. These warriors and weapons were at every Estate Manor, every spaceport, and every critical infrastructure location. These weapons were not sold to outsiders of the Jarnfolk historically and would not be in the future either, even in private sales by the Clan leaders.
While Galmand would be traveling, the Golden Fox would be repaired at the Skjolden Manor and the repaired Caesar would be piloted by his sister Annimari, should the need arise for a defender before his return to Jarnfolk space. Given the history of Free Rasalhague Republic and the Draconis Combine, he set his course for the Outworlds Alliance systems. It was rumored in Jarnfolk space that a Clan from Kerensky’s Exodus had set up shop there. Perhaps he could return with Clan and Inner Sphere Battlemechs…