TEXT: BATTLECORPS
  BE NOT AFRAID  
  OF GREATNESS
  Phaedra M. Weldon
  
  BATTLECORPS
  Be not Afraid of Greatness • Page 2
  Robinson City, Robinson 
  Draconis March, Federated Suns 
  2 April 3039
  A cool breeze, mingled with the scent of an approaching spring 
  storm, ruffled pink and white cherry-blossoms from a nearby row 
  of trees bordering the farthest corner of the KidsWorld parking lot 
  in Robinson City. Pedals drifted by like oversized snowflakes as 
  Teagen Reeves narrowed the focus of her binoculars. She tracked 
  the approaching groundcar while sitting in the passenger seat of 
  her brother’s taxi.
  “Well now that’s a sweet ride,” her brother Joss said in a soft 
  voice. He was three years older than she was, with the same light 
  lilt in his voice their father had once had. 
  Teagen shook her head slowly as she watched the ground-car 
  park. “Avanti? Too risky.”
  “No, it’s perfect,” Joss said. He was leaning closer to her from 
  his position in the driver’s seat. He didn’t have binoculars, but they 
  weren’t necessary to see the target. Teagen liked her toy because 
  of the things it showed her beyond what the naked eye could see. 
  “Better resell. And the parts are worth a hell of a lot more than the 
  sum.”
  She gave him that. Joss knew his cars, having collected them 
  since their dad left him his vintage Westline Fastback. Which still 
  sat in their chop shop. Without a motor.
  But Teagen knew her specs too—and this thing screamed “go 
  away,” from its low-profile tires to the pings and whistles dis-
  played on the binoculars’ readout. “Joss, I think this one’s military, 
  or he’s into more gadgets than me.”
  “He firing up on the grid?”
  “Sparkling like a celebration day kid’s toy.” Teagen narrowed her 
  eyes as the Avanti driver’s door opened.
  Joss gave a low chuckle. “You can handle it.” 
  Teagen zeroed in on the clothing. Dark green trousers and jacket, 
  signature starburst on vest, golden spokes across his chest as he 
  turned. “Military. Leftenent from rank insignia.” Teagen pulled the 
  binoculars back from her eyes but didn’t lower them. “Looks like 
  dad’s uniform.”
  
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  “What? That spook you?”
  “No,” Teagen said, and she heard and felt him shift beside her. 
  “Seems wrong to take this guy’s car. I mean—he’s going inside a 
  kid’s toy store. And besides, it’s going to rain soon. Look at those 
  clouds over the mountains.” She was stalling, and she knew she 
  was. Only Teagen didn’t know why.
  But Joss’ mind was already made up. He wanted the Avanti. 
  “So? The military will just issue him another one. They can afford 
  it.” Which may or may not be true. 
  Teagen had heard the rumors for years of the impending war 
  between the combined forces of the Federated Suns and Lyran 
  Commonwealth against the Draconis Combine. 
  For ten years the universe had waited, and for ten years, nothing 
  foretold had happened. Many of her friends and most of her fam-
  ily refused to believe it would happen either. 
  Most people Teagen knew often voiced their disappointment 
  with Hanse Davion and his inability to vanquish their ancient foe, 
  the Dragon. 
  What bothered her most, especially after growing up on her fa-
  ther’s stories of the Second and Third Succession Wars, was that 
  no one, or at least no one on Robinson, seemed to care. 
  Unless they were a Sandoval. The Duke was as always ready to 
  strike against his people’s enemy. 
  Teagen was all for it, as long as it didn’t interfere with her 
  business.
  She refocused her attention on the soldier as he moved a brief-
  case to his trunk and locked it. With a glance back, the young 
  Leftenant went hurriedly into the toy store as thunder gave a dis-
  tant accompaniment to the afternoon.
  “Well, I say go.” She tossed the binoculars into the back seat 
  and opened the passenger’s door. She wore black, leather gloves, 
  dark shades, and had tucked her hair up into a black, Robinson 
  Buccaneers baseball cap. “Radio Lee. Tell him to be ready. If this 
  thing’s lojacked it’ll take me a few extra minutes to disarm.”
  “Lee? What about Mick?” Joss arched one eyebrow.  “I know you 
  and Lee got this new thing between you, but you can’t leave Mick 
  out of everything.” 
  
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  She pursed her lips. There wasn’t time to talk about the fact she 
  disliked Mick. Didn’t trust him. With a shrug, she turned away.
  The wind felt chilled against her cheek as she moved hurriedly 
  across the parking lot to the silent Avanti. Teagen secretly hoped 
  the thing wasn’t tracked. Deactivating a track was time-consum-
  ing, and she’d read the man’s body language to mean this was to 
  be a quick stop for him. 
  Perhaps even an impulse buy. He wouldn’t be in the store long.
  Getting inside the Avanti wasn’t difficult—she’d perfected her 
  art years ago. The difficulty came a beat later as her body tensed, 
  listening for the screaming alarm she suspected would come stan-
  dard on the sedan. 
  When no alarm sounded, she took in a quick breath, slid into the 
  driver’s seat, noting the still new aroma of leather, and reached 
  down to the small open area beneath the ignition. 
  Hotwiring a car wasn’t a rare skill, nor was it one her father had 
  taught her. Joss’ friends had been good at stealing cars during 
  their high school days, and being the only female in the group—a 
  default member due to Joss’ popularity—she’d picked up on it. 
  Over time, they’d become quite good, and by the end of gradua-
  tion, had created an adequate night-shift job capable of sustaining 
  their daily utilities. 
  Though questionable in its pursuits, thieving put food on their 
  tables and clothes on their backs. Children of Robinson were 
  expected to enter the Battle Academy, and if not, then some re-
  spectable, nearby college for a less than preferable education. 
  Media and a long history of the defense of the Draconis March 
  convinced the populace that joining the military was the more re-
  spectable choice after High School. 
  All but Teagen, who had never taken the tests, had failed their 
  entrance exams into the Robinson Battle Academy. And maybe 
  their present occupation was little more than a rebellion against a 
  society that touted the greatness of war.
  Being a MechWarrior had never been her dream, though she 
  was sure it had been Joss’. Though she admired her father’s histo-
  ry as a Warrior and defender of the FedSun, she wasn’t interested 
  in actually fighting any war. War was just something any child of 
  Robinson grew up with, living within the Draconis March. 
  
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  War was simply an acknowledged way of life.
  The total time it took to open, wire and start the car was little 
  more than two and a half minutes. With a thumbs up at her broth-
  er waiting in his taxi, Teagen slowly drove the Avanti out of the 
  parking lot and onto the freeway. Joss would stay behind with his 
  light flipped to off-duty so he could watch to see what happened 
  when the owner stepped back outside.
  She didn’t think this particular snatch would go badly. 
  But then again, Teagen had been wrong before. 
  The traffic along Robinson City’s major thoroughfare was light 
  heading south where she and the others had their shop. She did no-
  tice an increase of presence with the Robinson Police Department, 
  all heading in the opposite direction. 
  It was nerves that told her their target was KidsWorld. 
  It was experience that told her to get the damned Avanti off the 
  freeway and away from the notice of the Robinson P.D. as soon as 
  possible. She wasn’t sure they were looking for her, but why take 
  chances? 
  After taking several detours on the secondary roads, into areas 
  where there weren’t enough people to notice an Avanti sedan 
  much less care, Teagen pulled the car over onto a service road 
  and phoned Lee. 
  “Tay,” her brother’s best friend answered. His usually carefree 
  tone seemed less so to her. “Where are you?”
  “Over near the southern loop.” She checked her chronometer. It 
  was half past three in the afternoon. She’d been on the road fif-
  teen minutes—not a good thing to do with a stolen car. Luckily no 
  one could readily see her now. “You heard from Joss?”
  “Just that you were bringing out a sedan. Mick and I are ready—”
  “Lee…” Teagen frowned. Another brisk wind whipped the leave-
  covered branches of a poplar tree in front of her. The sky had 
  turned a monochromatic gray over the mountains near the space-
  port. The spring storm was nearly on the city and the smell of rain 
  
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  came through the Avanti’s open driver’s window. “I’ve got a bad 
  feeling about this snatch. Did Joss tell you it’s a military car?”
  “Yeah. So? We’ve stolen military vehicles before. What’s the 
  problem?”
  The feeling settling in her stomach twisted into a Gordian knot. 
  How could she tell him about a feeling only? Or explain it? Yeah, 
  Lee was right. They’d stolen bigger, more expensive craft from the 
  military before. 
  But this time…this time something felt…
  Well…wrong. 
  Had it been because the guy’d been wearing a uniform so similar 
  to their father’s? That the sight of that very uniform still made her 
  feel warm inside—even if the pension from her father’s death in 
  battle had done little to further her or her brother’s futures?
  No. There wasn’t any one thing. It was only her gut, and the knot 
  now permanently entrenched for the long haul. 
  She gave a short sigh. “Look, do me a favor—just check the vids. 
  Have Mick monitor the local Robinson City P.D. channels.”
  “Tay…what’s up?”
  “Trust me on this one. I’m going to try to get the sedan to the 
  shop. But if I can’t get through, clear out.” With a press of a button 
  she disconnected and slid the small phone into her jacket pocket. 
  Another gust of wind picked up a stray piece of gold paper and 
  flipped it over the sedan. She pulled the sedan back out into traffic 
  and moved along the lesser roads heading south. 
  After twenty minutes of inching through earlier than usual rush 
  our traffic—those just getting off of work mingled with those want-
  ing to get home before the storm hit—Teagen repeatedly rubbed 
  her palms on her jeans as her stomach tightened with every min-
  ute spent out in the open with a stolen car. Nausea kept her on the 
  edge of her seat as she constantly looked in her rear view mirror. 
  She kept the window down—allowing the cold, stormy air to keep 
  her focused.
  She was now three kilometers from the turn that lead to their 
  shop. 
  
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  The building was nestled in a grove of cypress and pine trees 
  behind the house she and Joss had inherited from their grandpar-
  ents. Just three more blocks and she would be at the turnoff. 
  One street away, Teagen encountered a roadblock. She leaned 
  out driver’s window. 
  Flashing pinpoints of red, amber, blue and white formed a line 
  across the entire roadway. Teagen saw men in uniform—both mili-
  tary and police. 
  Her rational voice said it could be anything. Escaped convict, 
  robbery or license check.
  A longer inspection revealed it definitely wasn’t a standard li-
  cense and registration check either. People were being asked to 
  exit their cars.
  The military’s presence here ruled out armed robbery or escaped 
  convict. That really wasn’t their jurisdiction. 
  Stolen military property was. 
  Panic threatened to seize her, make her useless. She sat perfect-
  ly still, her hands clutching the steering wheel until her knuckles 
  turned white. They had to be herebecause of the car. 
  But why? As Lee reminded her, they’d stolen military vehicles 
  before. What made this one so different?
  Now was no time to panic. Dark clouds continued to gather 
  above the city, overcastting the bright spring afternoon, now turn-
  ing to afternoon. The LCD over the radio read nearly four. She was 
  twenty cars back and several men in military uniform with two 
  leashed dogs began walking down the row of cars. 
  The smart thing to do was to abandon the car. Just get out and 
  leave. She’d used gloves and her hair was pulled up in a baseball 
  cap. There shouldn’t be any trace evidence—or at least any easily 
  found.
  But then, her exiting and abandoning the exact make and model 
  of the car stolen would red flag her presence even more. Whatever 
  she decided, she needed to do it soon.
  No one had come up behind her, so Teagen wasn’t boxed into 
  the lane as of yet. She eased the sedan into reverse and backed up 
  slowly, using her rearview mirror as a guide. She glanced at the 
  soldiers. None seemed to notice the car’s movement. 
  
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  To her right was a restaurant. A seafood place she’d never been 
  in. Teagen hated fish of any kind. Still careful—and sweating pro-
  fusely in the afternoon’s cooling breeze—she maneuvered the car 
  into the right lane, and then turned into the parking lot. 
  Just to make sure her odd movements didn’t trigger any patriotic 
  nerves of those still in line—those who might observe her move-
  ments as suspicious—Teagen parked the sedan in a slot near the 
  front door, shut off the engine and got out. 
  A quick glance at the now stalled traffic showed no one was 
  watching her. With another glance at the restaurant, Teagen slid 
  back into the car. 
  Her phone chirped. “Hey.” ID said the caller was Joss. 
  Thank goodness.
  “Teagen,” her brother’s voice was hushed, a hoarse whisper. 
  “Get rid of that car. Now. Just walk away and get home.”
  “Where are you?” She kept a close eye on the uniformed boys 
  and girls near the roadblock. It wouldn’t do for one of them to hike 
  it into the parking lot. “Why? Is this thing lojacked?”
  “No—yea—no… look, the Leftenant forgot to arm it when he went 
  inside.” There was a pause. 
  “You know this how?”
  Another pause. “The police questioned me, searched my taxi. 
  Luckily I’d tossed your binoculars into another car’s open window 
  or those alone would’ve sent me to the station.”
  “What’s up with this car?” She looked around at the dashboard. 
  She opened the glove compartment. Nothing out of the ordinary. 
  Drycleaning ticket. Movie ticket stubs. Teagen looked down at the 
  passenger side floorboard. 
  French fries here and there. She looked on the floor behind her. 
  There were more french fries, a half eaten cookie, and what ap-
  peared to be several fast-food toys. “Is it a prototype of some 
  sort?”
  “No,” Joss answered. “I don’t think it’s the car, Teagen. I think it’s 
  something he left in the car.”
  She sat up straight as she recalled watching the young man put 
  something in the trunk. 
  
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  The briefcase. 
  Shit.
  “Look, Teagen, I’m serious. Leave the car. Wherever you are, just 
  leave it.”
  “Where are you?”
  “I’m at the shop. But I’m not sure they didn’t follow me.” 
  Teagen twisted in the seat as she looked back at the roadblock. 
  No uniforms yet. 
  “Teag.” Mick Wu had the phone. 
  She didn’t like Mick very much—trusted him even less. His par-
  ents were reportedly Cappellan washouts. Ex-patriots who sold 
  out to the FedSuns years ago. Or so Mick liked to think. That was 
  the story he told everyone. 
  Teagen had never really cared. It wasn’t Mick’s heritage that 
  bothered her. It was his personality. 
  Slime.
  “You got this car everyone’s so hot after?”
  A shiver traveled down her spine. “Yeah. You know that.”
  “Duke Sandoval’s just given a special report on the vids.”
  Teagen frowned. What would Duke Aaron Sandoval be doing 
  giving a special report—unless they’d finally gone to war?
  A small part of her hoped that’s what all this was about, some 
  larger, world-shattering event, and not about the theft of one 
  Avanti Sedan. 
  Or a briefcase that now shined in her memory like a light in a 
  dark cavern. 
  She couldn’t stay here. Not parked this close to a roadblock. Joss 
  was right. Abandon the car and run like hell to the shop. 
  But curiosity had her in its cursed clutches. Their desperation to 
  retrieve the car had to be due to the briefcase. It was the only thing 
  she could think of that the owner left inside. 
  Locked in the trunk. 
  
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  “What’s the report about?” she asked. 
  “Apparently the gridlock traffic is due to some communications 
  technical glitch. Looks like the planet’s on a blackout due to it—
  can’t get HPG signals out till they’ve fixed it. They’ve also closed 
  the space ports.”
  Damn.
  “This isn’t a technical glitch, Teagen. You know that.”
  She nodded, knowing he couldn’t see her. “Yeah, I know that.”
  “Joss keeps telling me to tell you to ditch the car and get home. 
  Me? I think we need to take a look at it—see what all the fuss is 
  about.”
  As much as she hated to admit it to herself, Teagen had to agree 
  with him. 
  Teagen cranked the car. Like most restaurants, she was sure there 
  was a back exit. Some small road that bled out onto a secondary 
  one into the neighborhood behind it. “I’ll take a look myself and 
  get back to you.”
  “Alone?” Mick’s voice raised a notch. She wasn’t sure how, but 
  he’d managed to sound even slimier. “We split profits evenly, 
  Reeves. Whatever you find we all have a say.”
  She didn’t answer, and instead ended the communication.
  Teagen eased the sedan around the back and turned right down 
  a roughly paved road. The sun was gone completely behind the 
  clouds. Lightening cracked the sky before her as she crested a hill 
  that overlooked Robinson City. 
  There was a small motel near the city’s borders, yet tucked far 
  back enough to be out of the city’s view. She and Joss used to 
  hide there sometimes, when a particular fence got too risky.
  If Joss thought about it, he’d know that’s where she’d be. And 
  hopefully he’d leave Mick behind. The situation could get out of 
  hand, if it hadn’t already.
  Teagen tossed the phone into the passenger seat. If she was 
  careful, and remembered all the back roads her father had taught 
  her, she could easily avoid any more roadblocks. 
  
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  Once to the motel, she could pop open the trunk and have a look 
  at what was inside. Thunder followed along her path as she thought 
  over what it could be the military was so up in arms about. 
  Something so important that they would close down the space-
  ports and cut off communication off-planet. 
  And something valuable enough to get Mick Wu’s undivided in-
  terest. 
  Phobos Motel was little more than a long, narrow building nes-
  tled away from the main road near a grove of pecan trees. The 
  rain had just started as Teagen checked in using a phony name, 
  though one Joss would recognize, and cash. 
  She had to jimmy the trunk lock in the rain. The cold water pelted 
  at her face, whipped about by the wind. She was glad she still 
  wore the cap over her hair. Two jerks and the trunk popped open.
  The light from the lid illuminated a good-sized silver briefcase 
  slid to the back against the rear seats. Teagen leaned in, grabbed 
  it. The weight surprised her first and as she moved quickly to the 
  door of her room she guessed it contained a personal computer. 
  Two low wattage bulbs inside shade-less lamps bathed the room 
  in an eerie, dim light. Sticky, matted green and brown shag cov-
  ered the floor, and Teagen wasn’t sure the brown was part of the 
  original carpet color. 
  The walls shone oily with faded floral wallpaper, and if she looked 
  at them in the light just the right way, she noticed traces of some-
  thing splattered across the surface. 
  After locking and dead-bolting the door, Teagen set the briefcase 
  on the bed in front of her and pulled out her small, leather case. 
  Inside were six silver, slim tools she’d acquired in trade several 
  months ago from a dealer whose latest acquisition belonged to a 
  police officer. 
  He’d had to unload the car real fast. 
  Unlocking the thing wasn’t as easy as she’d hoped. As the storm 
  rallied on outside, the rain beating against her window, Teagen 
  picked at the lock. It finally gave, but the face of the lock itself was 
  badly damaged. 
  
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  She doubted the thing would ever lock again. 
  Inside was a computer, as she’d expected. There were two fold-
  ers, each with dates on them. On their fronts was the symbol of 
  the Federated Suns, a red sun, yellow burst and sword thrust up-
  ward. 
  A small feeling of pride swelled within her as she thought of her 
  father. 
  There was a small pistol nestled to the right, still in its holster. 
  She checked the clip and found it fully loaded. There was also a 
  military I.D. Leftenant Adrian Robertson. He was handsome with 
  blue eyes and high cheekbones. The information said he was mar-
  ried with a small daughter.
  Which explained his rush inside of KidsWorld. 
  And his mistake. 
  Had it been her birthday? Had he forgotten? And in a rush ne-
  glected to set the car’s alarm? 
  Setting aside the I.D., Teagen glanced through the papers in their 
  folders. 
  Much of the language made little sense. There were numbers, 
  listed regiments, some names she recognized while others she 
  didn’t. Battalions and more numbers. And there was the ever-
  present list of ’Mechs and their Warriors. 
  Her father’s preference had been the Locust, able to cover great 
  distances quickly. He’d piloted several others, but he’d always 
  bragged about his pride and joy. 
  It was the ’Mech he died in during the Fourth War. 
  With a sigh, Teagen set aside the folders and opened up the 
  computer. It was time to start using those hacking skills she’d 
  been working on. 
  She gasped aloud when the screen flared from black to on. No 
  security. Not even a thumbprint security pad. The monitor simply 
  came on displaying several open documents. 
  It was as if he’d simply closed it and allowed it to go to sleep 
  without setting a password before running in the store to get his 
  kid a toy. Teagen was shocked at Leftenant Robertson’s negligence 
  with something that was obviously important. 
  
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  And yet she applauded him on his dedication to his child. She 
  was sure he was sweating his preoccupation at the moment.
  Teagen’s gaze tracked downward. 
  And as she read, her heartbeat increased. 
  Names came to the surface: Wave One, Four Axes, Operation 
  WINTERSCHNEE. Operation STURMHAMMER.
  Years of listening to her father taught her how to read the infor-
  mation before her. Teagen nearly fell off the bed as the realization 
  of what she had in her hands hit her. 
  These were the detailed plans for the Steiner -Davion attack on 
  the Combine. 
  April 16, 3039.
  Today was April 2.
  The first wave was scheduled to hit Vega, An Ting and New 
  Mindham. This was within the first of the Four Axes. Next they 
  would push onward to thirteen more worlds. 
  Including Atlais. 
  Nashira.
  Thestria.
  Operation WINTERSCHNEE, under the command of Nondi 
  Steiner, would hit Alnasi, Alrakis, Altais, Kessel, Konstance and 
  Vega. Operation STURMHAMMER would give way to five more 
  worlds before Wave Two pushed into Al Na’ir, Ashio, Nirasaki, and 
  Murchison. 
  The Third Wave would concentrate on Altair, Deneb Algedi, 
  Dieron and Styx. 
  She paged down continuously, scanning the major points, un-
  able to stop reading, and yet knowing somewhere deep down that 
  the more she knew, the more she entrenched herself in danger.
  It was nearly eleven before Teagen pushed the computer away 
  and stood. She nearly tripped over the second bed and put her 
  hand to her forehead. With an angry sob she turned on the Vid 
  and found the local news. 
  
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  “…tonight though many of those stranded in Robinson City are 
  keeping a positive attitude.” 
  The camera switched to a middle-aged couple dressed in match-
  ing sets of clothing. Teagen recognized the background as Terminal 
  A at the Robinson City spaceport. How often had she said good-
  bye to their dad there?
  “….Well you know, I believe the Duke’s doing what he can,” the 
  male was saying, a crease between his thick, dark eyebrows. “It’s 
  not his fault those Blake wackos can’t keep the HPG units working 
  properly. Seems to me if we’d just stop targeting the Combine and 
  just get rid of ComStar—” 
  The man was abruptly cut off. The scene switched to a young 
  woman. Blond. High cut skirt. “I’m not upset, not really, though 
  I am a bit concerned that he’d shut down the space ports when 
  the only thing being reported is a glitch in communications.” She 
  shrugged straight perfect shoulders. “I think there’s something 
  else going on.”
  The screen switched back to the anchor. Teagen glanced at 
  the open computer, unsure whether to toss it out the window or 
  close it. 
  “It is rumored that vital, military information was stolen this af-
  ternoon, and the Robinson police, in conjunction with the military, 
  are desperate to get it back. We’ve been given reports of road-
  blocks and more intensive security checks being implemented 
  throughout the city. In other news relating to the over-priced tick-
  eting at the space—”
   Teagen switched it off and hung her head. She was in trouble—
  damn big trouble. Yeah, they were missing information all right. 
  And if this information got into the wrong hands—Combine opera-
  tive hands—then things would go to shit really fast.
  And it wouldn’t matter that Teagen Reeves didn’t have anything 
  to do with that, or didn’t intend on stealing the information, just 
  the car. If she were found with this information, then not even her 
  brother would ever find her. 
  Unless they accused her brother as well. 
  Damn.
  She had to get rid of the computer. But how? Where? Teagen 
  grabbed it up and set it back inside the briefcase, along with the 
  papers and I.D. She kept the pistol out, just in case. 
  
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  She had to have some way to defend herself. 
  Maybe it was listening too well to her father, but if there were 
  anyone in the city loyal to the Combine, now would be his or her 
  chance to give aid. If they found her and the briefcase, then they’d 
  just as soon kill her and take it. 
  Tossing it into the dumpster was no good. Neither was wiping 
  the hard drive—if they found it that way then they’d be certain 
  she’d read it. Or sold the information before wiping it. 
  “I am so fucked,” she muttered out loud as she stuck the pistol 
  into the back waistband of her jeans. She had to do something. 
  Teagen grabbed up the briefcase and went outside. After lock-
  ing the room, she set it back in the Avanti’s trunk and drove to the 
  nearest convenience store. 
  With cash she bought several small chains and a pad-lock. 
  Luckily the cashier didn’t pay attention or didn’t care about her 
  purchase. Teagen tossed the items into the trunk with the rest and 
  drove back to the motel. 
  
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  Her tentative plan was to just lock up the briefcase, wipe it down, 
  and leave it and the car in a parking lot. If the police were looking 
  for the Avanti, surely they’d discover it in a parking lot in a public 
  place and find it and the briefcase. 
  And maybe they’d see that everything was there—minus the pis-
  tol—and not pursue her. 
  Or at least, she hoped so. Or her plans for a future would come 
  to a rather abrupt end. 
  Mick and Lee were in her motel room when she got back. Seeing 
  their car parked behind the office and not in front of the room 
  made Teagen suspicious. Why park so far away? The rain had 
  slacked up to a drizzle, and the lot was little more than mud and 
  crunched asphalt. 
  She left the chains, lock and briefcase in the trunk and went up 
  to her door. It opened before she could slide her key in. 
  Mick stood there, his hair plastered to the sides of his face. His 
  shirt and jacket were wet as well. Lee sat on the farthest bed, his 
  expression glassy, and his complexion ghost-like. 
  “Where’s Joss?” she asked as Mick stepped back to allow her 
  into her own room. “And how did you get in here?”
  “Same trick as usual,” Mick said in a sly, ultra-slimy voice. 
  “Cash.”
  Teagen moved to the far side, near the bathroom. She looked at 
  Lee, but he never looked at her. His hands were behind his back. 
  She looked back to Mick. “You didn’t answer my question.”
  “Did you find anything in the car?” Mick asked. 
  She narrowed her eyes. “No. Just kid’s toys. Mick,” she put her 
  hands on her hips, feeling the weight of the pistol at the small of 
  her back. “Where is my brother?”
  “Joss isn’t coming,” Mick said as he reached up and scratched 
  his nose. “He didn’t feel up to it.” 
  Lee made a noise. It was then Teagen saw the rope binding his 
  wrists. She moved toward Lee. “What is with the bondage, Mick? 
  And where the fuck is my brother?”
  
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  “Stay where you are!” Mick moved quickly, producing a needler 
  from inside his jacket. He aimed it directly at Teagen’s chest. She 
  stopped, keeping her back away from Mick. 
  There was nothing she could do to avoid getting hit with a 
  needler, especially at this close range. Teagen held her hands out 
  to her sides. “What is going on, Mick?”
  “Money, Teag. Money. And the promise of a future off this fuck-
  ing rock.” He gave her a slow smile. “I figure with the information 
  I got from Joss, you have the car the military’s look’n for, right? 
  And knowing you—you found whatever it is they’re looking for 
  inside.” 
  She matched his smile with one of her own, though she didn’t 
  feel it. A glance at Lee told her he wasn’t feeling well. He was list-
  ing to one side, and looked ready to faint. Had Mick shot him? “Is 
  that right?”
  “Yeah. And Lee here—when Joss refused to cooperate—he 
  knew about this place. See, he and Joss were really close. And 
  I always knew Lee had a thing for you,” he smiled again. “I got 
  friends coming, Teag. And they’re gonna pay me a small fortune 
  for what you found.”
  “When did you decide to strike out on your own, Mick?” Teagen 
  needed to buy time. If Mick had friends coming, and they wanted 
  what she’d found, she was sure they were somehow connected to 
  the Dracs.
  And if they were allowed in and got hold of that briefcase, none 
  of them would leave this room alive. And the Steiner-Davion as-
  sault would stand in jeopardy.
  “No cut, then?” She gave him a sly look. “After all, it was me that 
  took the car.”
  He held the needler steady. “What did you find? Show me.”
  “Your buyers didn’t tell you?” thinking fast, Teagen reached be-
  hind her and put her hand on the pistol. 
  “No, just that it was something vital to them.”
  She chewed on her lower lip. More than likely whoever these buy-
  ers were, they were guessing at the information the military was 
  tracking down. Which might give her an edge in this situation.
  
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  “Okay,” she smiled. “The only thing I found in the car was a gun.”
  “A gun?” He looked confused before noticing her arm move-
  ments. He strengthened his aim. “Pull it out slowly—with your 
  left hand.”
  “Sure, Mick,” she pulled the pistol out slowly, cradling it awk-
  wardly with her left hand. Mick knew she was right handed and 
  using the gun with her left would be difficult. “See? This is it. I can 
  only guess the gun is worth something?”
  He lowered the needler long enough for her to pop the gun up 
  in the air catch it with her right hand and aimed below Mick’s belt. 
  She fired twice, shattering both knees. He yelled out and fell back, 
  the needler bouncing out of his grip. 
  Quickly she snatched up the needler as Lee came to life. He struggled 
  against the ropes as Teagen moved behind him to unknot them. 
  “Neat trick,” Lee said as he finished loosening the last knot. He 
  pulled hands around front and rubbed his wrists. “Joss is dead.”
  “I know,” and this was the truth. She’d known it the moment 
  she’d seen the car parked away from the door. Joss always parked 
  two spaces to the right of their room—a signal that it was he and 
  all was clear. 
  Teagen just didn’t want to believe it.
  Mick writhed on the floor, tears streaming from his eyes. His 
  moans were going to attract attention if the gunshots hadn’t 
  already.
  “Who did he call?” Teagen asked as she grabbed a towel and 
  started wiping things down. 
  “Some friends of his,” Lee took the needler from her and pulled a 
  small bag of small blue pills from his jacket. She recognized them 
  as a popular upper. He dumped them out on the floor beside Mick. 
  “A little insurance so the police suspect his injury comes from a 
  bad deal.”
  Nice thinking. Teagen shoved the stolen pistol back into her 
  waistband and carefully gathered up the spent bullets, prying one 
  from the doorframe with a pocket knife. She then gathered up the 
  casings and motioned for Lee to follow her out the door. 
  Lee remained standing over the moaning and writhing Mick. It 
  was then Teagen realized she’d nearly severed his left calf at the 
  
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  knee. Mick’s foot was turned backwards where the force of his fall 
  had twisted it.  
  “Lee, we have to go. Someone had to have called in the gun-
  shots.”
  He nodded absently. He clutched the needler tightly in his right 
  hand. “He killed Joss. It’s not right he lives, Teag. He was going 
  to betray us,” he pulled his gaze away from Mick to her. “I don’t 
  know what it is you found, but if he got his hands on it, he was 
  going to betray us all.”
  “Lee…” Mick said in a tight voice. “I can make a deal…I can get 
  us all off planet…we don’ t have to—”
  Teagen jumped when Mick’s blood splattered across her face, 
  each drop a tiny warm pressure against her skin. Lee had fired 
  the needler directly into Mick’s face. Skin, cartilage, and blood ex-
  ploded over Lee, as well as the floor and surrounding furniture.
  Lee shoved the needler into the back of his pants. “Let’s go.”
  Teagen remained where she was. Lee put a hand on her shoul-
  der, then put himself between her and the body. He tucked the 
  index finger of his right hand beneath her chin and lifted her face. 
  She locked eyes with him as she started to shake. “We couldn’t 
  allow him to live. He would’ve ratted us out. But you’re right, we 
  have to go now. We have to get to Joss’ body.” Lee swallowed, the 
  rims of his eyes red. “We have to bury him.”
  Yes. They should go.  Mick killed Joss. He deserved to die. 
  She could almost hear the distant sound of a siren.
  If they could hold out till after April 16, none of it would matter. 
  The war against the Combine would finally begin.
  She would find her brother’s body, and then she would bury him 
  beside the grave of her father.
  Once in the Avanti, they drove several kilometers to an all night 
  diner. She parked the car in the back and the two walked silently 
  into the deserted diner. 
  The floors were dingy white and the bar was chrome and red tile. 
  The stools had lost most of their seat covering, as had the booths. 
  The smell of grease thickened Teagen’s stomach as she slid into 
  the booth and looked out at the dark night. 
  
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  At the traffic along the highway moving, like strings of precious 
  jewels.
  Lee told her what had happened. How Mick had knocked him in 
  the head and tied him up in the back room. Mick had then shot Joss 
  in the thigh and questioned him while he slowly bled to death. 
  Lee knew the code for parking, but he’d lied to Mick. So Teagen 
  was forewarned. 
  Teagen decided then not to tell Lee what she’d learned. She only 
  told him that there was a briefcase in the trunk—one that had im-
  portant information on it that couldn’t get into enemy hands. 
  It had to go back to the military. 
  “And that’s your plan?” Lee asked as he picked at a plate full of 
  fries. “Just drop it off and hope someone finds it?”
  She shrugged. “I don’t know what else to do.” 
  He looked about the place. “I have an idea.” 
  She watched him stand and talk to the waitress. Money changed 
  hands and he disappeared behind the bar. Ten minutes passed 
  before he returned, a single sheet of white paper in his hand. 
  He carefully laid it on the table beside her untouched food. 
  Teagen read the note carefully: 
  I may be a thief, but I am a patriot too. I return this to you, to-
  gether with my assurance that I have not copied or passed on the 
  information it contains.
  She looked up at him over the note. “You think this’ll work?”
  “Just put that pistol back in the briefcase with the computer. 
  We’ve got a clip back at the house that’ll replace the spent bullets. 
  You picked them all up, right?”
  She nodded. The R.C.P.D. may not investigate the death of a 
  drug dealer, but the military would certainly examine the gun, and 
  know it was recently fired. And if they found Joss’ body, things 
  could get even worse 
  Lee continued. “We leave the car somewhere public, like you said, 
  and then we phone it in.” He punctuated his next words with finger 
  taps to the scratched tile tabletop. “We make sure they find it.”
  
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  The waitress set the bill on their table and Teagen reached for 
  her wallet. As always, the flap opened to a picture of her father in-
  stead of her I.D. He was there, dressed in his shorts and boots, his 
  coolant vest over his shoulders. Behind him were the lower legs 
  and feet of his ’Mech, the Locust. 
  She took out the photo and held it up, thinking of her brother. 
  Teagen flipped the picture around and read the back out loud. “To 
  my joy, Teagen Molly. May the flame of the sword of the Federated 
  Suns stand tall.” 
  “Your father was a patriot, wasn’t he?”
  Teagen nodded slowly. Though she’d never wanted to fight, she 
  knew in her heart on this day she had fought a grander war on a 
  smaller scale. 
  She didn’t pilot a ’Mech, nor had she donned a uniform. She did 
  believe in her home, and in her world.
  After replacing her photo, she paid the bill. On the way back into 
  town she turned to Lee. “Ever wanted to just go somewhere? Off 
  of Robinson?”
  “Yeah. You got an idea?”
  “My dad had a place on Mallory’s World. Been thinking about 
  technical school.” A war was coming. There was little time to pre-
  pare. “Been thinking of honing up on my mechanical skills.” 
  “No one can disassemble an engine like you,” he grinned but nev-
  er took his gaze from the road. “Want to hop over there. Just us?”
  “Yeah,” she settled back in the cushy leather chair. “Oh, and I 
  think you should call in the anonymous tip.”
  “Any reason why?”
  “No,” she shook her head. “I just like the idea of being the silent 
  patriot.” 
  Lee laughed. It was a nice sound. “A patriotic thief. Now who’s 
  ever going to remember that?”
  
SOURCE: textdata/thevault/BattleTech [multi]/EXTRA/Novels/Battlecorps Novels/Be Not Afraid of Greatness - Phaedra M. Weldon.pdf