own summary of noted trends in the physical combat portions."
Borg nodded, pointing a finger at the disk for a short second. He began to speak, but paused to
reconsider his choice of words. At last he spoke.
"Will he do it?"
Luther nodded. "I believe he will." Luther looked squarely at the disk and pointed himself.
"He has done it in every situation regardless of his opponent's affiliation. If it comes to it, he will
do it." Luther stopped short of any further explanation to let Borg reply.
"And the SSIC? What do they know of our 'Clan-only' investigation on the matter?" Borg
couldn't risk his own organization losing face if they were proven to be spying in such a way that
would affect the duel.
Luther looked at Borg. He was seemingly shocked by the question.
"No traces. We did it right. We also caught Commander Jesus getting some advice."
Commander Jesus had been Mike Strider's nickname within the SSIC since its founding. A
simple comment from one of the SSIC's earliest profile pictures of Mike had stuck.
Borg nodded. He'd suspected Strider would play out any and all connections with the Assassin
Mech. He had also been quite annoyed that the Inner Sphere and Clan members on both sides
had selected a Mech that was currently piloted by one of Strider's closest allies. Too late now
anyways, he thought.
"Borg," Luther spat out in a low key. "We picked up something important just minutes ago."
The man suddenly looked nervous, and it was obvious that something the SSIC had uncovered
was critical to the entire unit.
"Well, out with it. I have no use for any further delay in something important."
Luther was an ace analyst, but he worried too much about sharing disappointment with Borg.
Perhaps he secretly feared his superior, a possible side effect from witnessing countless
interrogation sessions.
Luther's face grew pale, its color flushed with a sudden show of his emotions.
When he spoke, his voice was surprisingly crisp and clear.
"The Vampire's Fangs have vanished."
Borg's jaw clenched down instinctively. It was a habit he'd tried hard to break since his
childhood. Too revealing was such an outward display of feelings, especially when one
considered his unique position. He'd tried to learn how to hide it to no avail.
The Fangs. The Blakist mercenary unit known as the Vampire's Fangs had plagued the Strikers
on three separate occasions. The unit was known to be backed, possibly even created, by the
Word of Blake. The leader of the group was Von Drakuhl. Borg had studied the commander
since the earlier years, just after the two mercenary groups had initially clashed on the planet of
Wasat.
Von Drakuhl was one to be feared. He was an agent of destruction, and he seldom showed any
mercy in his actions. The most Borg had seen was that displayed during the Strikers' first
encounter with the Fangs. Devon Carns and Mike Strider had both been captured, but not
killed. Borg was willing to bet that Drakuhl had greatly regretted that decision.
But Borg himself was also one to be feared, pitting him and his unit's powerful enemy at odds.
Borg was thought to be wanted by both Word of Blake intelligence and the Free Worlds
League's SAFE organization. Even more, he had heard rumors more than once concerning his
own refusal to join the Clan Watch intelligence. He had passed up the opportunity immediately.
In retrospect he had realized that the decision stemmed from his strong connection with his Clan
and his Clan only.
Borg quieted his thoughts, consciously focusing again on his closest aide. Luther had been
waiting for his response, but not much had come in the seconds that had no doubt flashed by.
"I want formal requests to both Devon and Mike concerning increased patrols in the Southeast
Stricken Desert. We must find the Fangs before they strike something big."
Luther gave a quick nod, one of his most common responses. He began to turn, but paused. As
if he were in a movie being played backward, he pivoted back to his original stance.
"And our Star Colonel?" he asked.
Borg shook his face ever so slightly, barely moving. When he found his own voice, it was barely
a whisper.
"I will personally tell him our analysis." he said.
Devon placed the heavy neurohelmet over his head. It was an unfamiliar design, bulkier and
heavier than that of his regular Clan-tech neurohelmet assembly. The cool metal slid snugly over
his skull, and despite its weight it felt remarkably comforting to him. Devon was never quite sure
why he liked this part of suiting up for battle so much, but he chalked it up to being born a Clan
warrior. He knew that some people excelled in certain circumstances. Preparing for war indeed
seemed like readying himself for his own chance to excel.
Looking up, he realized this would be the very first time he'd piloted an Assassin Mech. Despite
being comparatively light with his usual ride, Devon spotted several admirable qualities about the
small Mech. He had never undervalued lighter Mechs, but his rank had provided him with the
more heavily armed BattleMechs.
"Its probably not much for you to look at, quiaff?" Tana Rishar asked him. She stood next to
him on the small lift that carried Mechwarriors and technicians to the higher levels of the
BattleMech Repair Facility. Thought Tana rarely talked with Devon, he knew she was very
curious about the man. She was old school Inner Sphere, and no matter how long he stayed
with the Strikers, he would always be a Clanner to her.
"Aff, but that does not mean I do not respect its abilities. This Mech could run circles around my
Direwolf. Given the right pilot, it might destroy enough back armor to take even an assault Mech
out of a fight." Devon turned to Tana and smiled. That ought to keep her baffled. He loved
playing the differences of his Clan culture for effect, especially with such an attractive woman
who'd caught his eye years before when they had first met.
Tana was slow to return the smile, but perhaps it was because she had been taken off-guard by
his response and body language. When she did finally smile, Devon watched closely. Living by
his Clan culture, he might have asked this woman to be a coupling partner. However he knew
the suggestion would be insulting to Tana as well as to his own regular coupling partner, Dana.
Borg nodded, pointing a finger at the disk for a short second. He began to speak, but paused to
reconsider his choice of words. At last he spoke.
"Will he do it?"
Luther nodded. "I believe he will." Luther looked squarely at the disk and pointed himself.
"He has done it in every situation regardless of his opponent's affiliation. If it comes to it, he will
do it." Luther stopped short of any further explanation to let Borg reply.
"And the SSIC? What do they know of our 'Clan-only' investigation on the matter?" Borg
couldn't risk his own organization losing face if they were proven to be spying in such a way that
would affect the duel.
Luther looked at Borg. He was seemingly shocked by the question.
"No traces. We did it right. We also caught Commander Jesus getting some advice."
Commander Jesus had been Mike Strider's nickname within the SSIC since its founding. A
simple comment from one of the SSIC's earliest profile pictures of Mike had stuck.
Borg nodded. He'd suspected Strider would play out any and all connections with the Assassin
Mech. He had also been quite annoyed that the Inner Sphere and Clan members on both sides
had selected a Mech that was currently piloted by one of Strider's closest allies. Too late now
anyways, he thought.
"Borg," Luther spat out in a low key. "We picked up something important just minutes ago."
The man suddenly looked nervous, and it was obvious that something the SSIC had uncovered
was critical to the entire unit.
"Well, out with it. I have no use for any further delay in something important."
Luther was an ace analyst, but he worried too much about sharing disappointment with Borg.
Perhaps he secretly feared his superior, a possible side effect from witnessing countless
interrogation sessions.
Luther's face grew pale, its color flushed with a sudden show of his emotions.
When he spoke, his voice was surprisingly crisp and clear.
"The Vampire's Fangs have vanished."
Borg's jaw clenched down instinctively. It was a habit he'd tried hard to break since his
childhood. Too revealing was such an outward display of feelings, especially when one
considered his unique position. He'd tried to learn how to hide it to no avail.
The Fangs. The Blakist mercenary unit known as the Vampire's Fangs had plagued the Strikers
on three separate occasions. The unit was known to be backed, possibly even created, by the
Word of Blake. The leader of the group was Von Drakuhl. Borg had studied the commander
since the earlier years, just after the two mercenary groups had initially clashed on the planet of
Wasat.
Von Drakuhl was one to be feared. He was an agent of destruction, and he seldom showed any
mercy in his actions. The most Borg had seen was that displayed during the Strikers' first
encounter with the Fangs. Devon Carns and Mike Strider had both been captured, but not
killed. Borg was willing to bet that Drakuhl had greatly regretted that decision.
But Borg himself was also one to be feared, pitting him and his unit's powerful enemy at odds.
Borg was thought to be wanted by both Word of Blake intelligence and the Free Worlds
League's SAFE organization. Even more, he had heard rumors more than once concerning his
own refusal to join the Clan Watch intelligence. He had passed up the opportunity immediately.
In retrospect he had realized that the decision stemmed from his strong connection with his Clan
and his Clan only.
Borg quieted his thoughts, consciously focusing again on his closest aide. Luther had been
waiting for his response, but not much had come in the seconds that had no doubt flashed by.
"I want formal requests to both Devon and Mike concerning increased patrols in the Southeast
Stricken Desert. We must find the Fangs before they strike something big."
Luther gave a quick nod, one of his most common responses. He began to turn, but paused. As
if he were in a movie being played backward, he pivoted back to his original stance.
"And our Star Colonel?" he asked.
Borg shook his face ever so slightly, barely moving. When he found his own voice, it was barely
a whisper.
"I will personally tell him our analysis." he said.
Devon placed the heavy neurohelmet over his head. It was an unfamiliar design, bulkier and
heavier than that of his regular Clan-tech neurohelmet assembly. The cool metal slid snugly over
his skull, and despite its weight it felt remarkably comforting to him. Devon was never quite sure
why he liked this part of suiting up for battle so much, but he chalked it up to being born a Clan
warrior. He knew that some people excelled in certain circumstances. Preparing for war indeed
seemed like readying himself for his own chance to excel.
Looking up, he realized this would be the very first time he'd piloted an Assassin Mech. Despite
being comparatively light with his usual ride, Devon spotted several admirable qualities about the
small Mech. He had never undervalued lighter Mechs, but his rank had provided him with the
more heavily armed BattleMechs.
"Its probably not much for you to look at, quiaff?" Tana Rishar asked him. She stood next to
him on the small lift that carried Mechwarriors and technicians to the higher levels of the
BattleMech Repair Facility. Thought Tana rarely talked with Devon, he knew she was very
curious about the man. She was old school Inner Sphere, and no matter how long he stayed
with the Strikers, he would always be a Clanner to her.
"Aff, but that does not mean I do not respect its abilities. This Mech could run circles around my
Direwolf. Given the right pilot, it might destroy enough back armor to take even an assault Mech
out of a fight." Devon turned to Tana and smiled. That ought to keep her baffled. He loved
playing the differences of his Clan culture for effect, especially with such an attractive woman
who'd caught his eye years before when they had first met.
Tana was slow to return the smile, but perhaps it was because she had been taken off-guard by
his response and body language. When she did finally smile, Devon watched closely. Living by
his Clan culture, he might have asked this woman to be a coupling partner. However he knew
the suggestion would be insulting to Tana as well as to his own regular coupling partner, Dana.
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