Battletech fox tales the.., p.1
BattleTech: Fox Tales (The Collected Fox Patrol Stories), page 1
BATTLETECH: FOX TALES
THE COLLECTED FOX PATROL STORIES
BRYAN YOUNG
CONTENTS
Foreword
Introduction
1. The Secret Fox
2. The Fox Patrol
3. The Fox and the Bear
4. A Fox On Galatea
5. The Fox Hunt
Acknowledgments
About the Author
Battletech Glossary
BattleTech Eras
The BattleTech Fiction Series
FOREWORD
As the editor of Shrapnel, the Official BattleTech Magazine, I love reading through submissions and finding a little unexpected gem of a story. It’s honestly my favorite part of the job. There is a certain tone, feel, and expectation to most BattleTech stories—par for the course for stories about military sci-fi tales about giant, stompy war robots—but every once in a while, I come across a tale that blows me away for one reason or another, often by subverting one or more of these expectations without denying the essence of what truly makes it fit in the BattleTech universe. Maybe the style or character voice is different. Maybe the writing is breathtaking. And sometimes what grabs me is the central character, someone unlike any BattleTech protagonist we’ve ever seen.
That last instance was the case with “The Secret Fox,” the first story in this collection. Katie Ferraro isn’t your usual BattleTech protagonist by any means. She isn’t a hard-bitten middle-aged mercenary, jaded by decades of warfare. She isn’t an opportunist just looking for a payday. She is young and idealistic, and instead of looking at the bottom line, she takes contracts because she genuinely wants to help people. Katie is the kind of character who remains true to herself and to everyone she loves, because she cannot be anything different.
When “The Secret Fox” crossed my desk in 2020, I was already familiar with Bryan due to working on his novel Honor’s Gauntlet earlier that year, so I suspected I would like this story. But I had no idea what I was in for, and I loved every moment of it. Now, two years later, the trials and travails of the Fox Patrol have become a regular staple of Shrapnel, and readers eagerly await the next installment. My first indication of how well this series had resonated was seeing a photo of a Kit Fox miniature painted in Fox Patrol colors, and it brought a tear to my eye to see this series leap off the page and into real life.
I am humbled to have had even a small part in helping bring this series out, and I hope you enjoy the story gems in this collection as much as I did.
—Philip A. Lee
INTRODUCTION
As much as being a MechWarrior was a dream of Katie’s, getting to create a mercenary unit like The Fox Patrol in the BattleTech universe was a dream of mine. Thankfully, my editors—John Helfers and Philip A. Lee—were delighted to indulge me as I kept turning these novellas in for publication in Shrapnel.
As the story grew, so too did my love for Katie and her ragtag team. They’re a diverse group of folks who have no business being mercenaries in a world as rough-and-tumble as BattleTech, but that’s why I love them. Katie has a heart and cares deeply about all of the MechWarriors in her command. They’re a found family, and those seem to be the most important families in my experience.
This whole enterprise grew from a single idea I had, an image in my head I couldn’t shake. I had this singular image of a young woman swimming in a lake and diving into the middle and finding a ’Mech just beneath the surface. There was something striking about the glint of sun off the water and the freedom of swimming. When I played the MechWarrior games on the SNES, my favorite tactic was to help manage my heat by parking my ass in the nearest lake and firing with abandon from there, so thinking a ’Mech pilot could die there, hiding in the water waiting to ambush some unsuspecting foe, felt very plausible to me. All of it was in service of getting this young woman, dreaming of being a MechWarrior, a ’Mech of her own in a way that made sense.
When I pitched this story to the editors, they immediately nixed the lake and told me to go back to the drawing board. I worked my hardest to find another angle and that's the story that opens this collection. It has threads of excitement that I love in it, and is matched with Hogarth’s enthusiasm for finding his own Iron Giant.
Funnily enough, I never heard back when I sent the pitch back for approval. I was talking to Michael A. Stackpole (of “Stackpoling” fame in BattleTech) and he said, “Just write the story. If it’s good, they’ll print it. Better to ask forgiveness than permission.”
For reasons beyond me, I listened to him. And instead of waiting, I fired off that first story to Phil and he loved it enough to include it in the third installment of Shrapnel. The rest was history. I loved writing Katie so much, I immediately began work on the next story. And the next. And the next. I loved adding Arkee and Evan to the mix, two of my favorite characters to write in BattleTech. And then Nicks and Ramirez followed. And then Frankie. I love them all so much, and have such high hopes for their future.
And the fact that folks seem to like these stories is an utter delight. Even among the editors. The fourth story in this collection, “A Fox on Galatea,” even went into a custody dispute between John and Phil. John had asked me for a novella set on Galatea, and I sent him this Fox Patrol story, and he and Phil fought over who got to print it because Phil felt it belonged in Shrapnel. Phil ultimately won, but it was nice to know the powers at be at Catalyst were excited about these stories, too.
I’m so proud to have this collection of stories in one place, and to have been able to add this fifth story. “The Fox Hunt” offers a new window into what the future holds for the Fox Patrol, and I can’t wait for you all to see what that is. It’s going to be a lot of fun. I promise.
—Bryan Young
This is for the folks on the margins dreaming of a better life. Like Katie, I hope they find their ’Mech in the jungle.
"The cunning of the fox is as murderous as the violence of the wolf."
—Thomas Paine
ONE
THE SECRET FOX
POTSDAM TOWN
JERANGLE
13 MAY 3143
“I had the dream again,” Katie Ferraro said, but she was sure Scarecrow wasn’t listening.
Scarecrow wasn’t his real name, but that’s what everyone in old Potsdam called him. He wasn’t terribly scary, but he did have the sharp beak and black, bushy eyebrows like you might expect a crow to have.
His hand was out, taking the wrench she held up for him. “The MechWarrior dream again?”
“Yes.” She smiled, and her eyes focused in on the lumbering AgroMech they worked on, wishing it were a BattleMech. “I was piloting a Catapult, skipping along toward a battle. I felt like I was the ’Mech. Every move I made, the ’Mech responded. My legs were the ’Mech’s legs. My arms…” She paused, thinking for a second. Catapults didn’t have arms, per se. “Well, my arms were just part of the ’Mech. I didn’t need them. Why would I?”
“Catapult. That’s an old ’Mech. Long time since anyone’s seen one of those ’round these parts,” Scarecrow said, his head disappearing behind the maintenance compartment as he went back to tinker.
“It’s been a long time since anyone’s seen any real ’Mechs around here, Scarecrow.”
“True enough, that is,” he said. “At least since the bombs fell. Don’t expect to see any more, either. Least not ones that aren’t already here. The old battered up ’Mechs that got left behind.”
Those battered up ’Mechs, BattleMechs and WorkMechs alike, were the bread and butter of Scarecrow’s service. Since they were all held together with spit and baling wire, Scarecrow’s shop never wanted for business. And since he made the proverbial house calls, there was almost always something to work on.
Katie frowned. “I just want to be a MechWarrior.”
“No, you don’t. It’s hot, messy work. Lethal, too. MechWarriors from backwaters never last long. You don’t want to waste your life gettin’ shot up as a mercenary for who-knows-what for not enough pay. You’re young. Got your whole life ahead of you.”
“I’m seventeen,” she said, a sing-song trace of defiance in her voice.
“And how many seventeen-year-olds you know got themselves apprenticed to a ’Mech tech?”
She toed the metal scaffolding grate in front of her. Sheepish. Katie knew she should be grateful. Scarecrow wasn’t just her boss; he’d taken her in the year before. After her parents had died in the accident. They’d fostered her dream of being a MechWarrior, and they were the ones who had arranged the apprenticeship. They knew how important her dreams were, and on Jerangle, they knew Scarecrow was the closest she could come to touching them. This was probably the closest she’d ever get to working with ’Mechs in the backwater of a planet that had been written off by the Inner Sphere. They both knew it.
She put her hand on the AgroMech’s construction-yellow arm as though she were consoling a living, breathing person. If she’d been born in another time, then maybe she would have had a chance to live those dreams.
But not right now.
Not in the 3140s.
All the excitement and conflict of the Inner Sphere passed Jerangle by. At least since the borders were more settled, and everyone seemed to have their eyes on something bigger than the smallest holdings in the Lyran Commonwealth. And there didn’t look to be any chance of that changing. Not any time soon.
No. Jerangle was quiet.
“Hand me that spanner,” Scarecrow told her.
She knew which one he meant. Maybe she’d even guessed he’d need it soon, since she’d already pulled it from the toolbox and held it, waiting for his request. Handing it to him, she stepped around to watch him ratchet the bolts back on the assembly for the AgroMech’s shoulder joint.
He must have sensed the unease in her voice. “We’ve got to get this ’Mech back together and out in the field before lunch. Maybe one day you’ll get your dream. But it’s not going to be today.”
Katie hoped he was wrong.
Katie convinced Scarecrow to let her pilot the AgroMech back to its owners and then give her the rest of the day off. There weren’t any ’Mechs left in the bay for repairs, and the next scheduled maintenance on anything wouldn’t be until next week.
He’d been reluctant at first, just like when she’d asked to pilot the AgroMech, but he had a hard time saying no when it mattered.
“Just be careful. And don’t do anything foolish while you’re out there,” he told her over the radio as she settled into the AgroMech’s command couch. “Can’t afford to have anybody thinking ol’ Scarecrow’s lettin’ you out to take risks or nothing. They’ll say I’ve lost my marbles.”
“Maybe you have, Scarecrow,” she said. She couldn’t contain the joy in her voice as she strapped the helmet on and willed the ’Mech forward.
It was a short walk to the outskirts of town where the fields were. They cultivated all sorts of things on Jerangle where the soil was good. Near Potsdam, it was mainly rice. Further into the forests on the other side of town, where the rocky jungle took over, they grew coffee, vanilla, and cacao. The crops all did well in the heat and humidity.
Katie had learned to love the heat herself. She thought growing up in such a place would help prepare her for being a MechWarrior. All the stories she read talked so much about how hot ’Mechs got.
For the AgroMechs she was allowed to pilot, the warmest they got was the ambient temperature of Potsdam.
She was reluctant to deliver the ’Mech. Something inside Katie wished she could just keep driving it. Past the farm, past the outskirts of Potsdam. Past everything. And she’d just find a new life out there, with the AgroMech as her only constant companion. It would be a hard life, but she’d make it work somehow. And once she’d hired her and her trusty ’Mech out for enough work, she’d be able to sell the AgroMech and trade up to a proper BattleMech.
She dreamed of starting her own mercenary company.
One day. She smiled. One day.
Instead of fleeing into the sunset, she parked the AgroMech outside of old man Peabody’s rice farm and let him know it was back.
“Scarecrow did a great job with it, sir,” she told Peabody. “It’s running like new again.”
Peabody was grateful, of course, and told Katie that he’d settle up with Scarecrow the next day, which was fine by her. It didn’t matter to her when Scarecrow got paid as long as he did. She’d get hers soon enough. All she did was save up her money anyway.
That ’Mech wasn’t going to buy itself.
With the rest of the day off and only an empty apartment above Scarecrow’s shop to go home to, she figured she’d go hiking. It would keep her mind off the yearning in her heart. And she wouldn’t die of boredom. She’d read the same books and watched the same shows over and over and over again and they’d lost all their allure.
She began her hike into the jungle from Peabody’s farm. She didn’t know if it was actually a jungle, but it seemed jungle enough to her. Hot and humid, lots of broad leafy trees and a thick canopy. Vines everywhere. It changed a bit as the land got craggier and led up the mountain, but it was all still very dense. As long as she didn’t get into any of the crops beneath the canopy, no one would say boo about her traipsing through the jungle. The kids of Potsdam did it all the time.
Seemed like every year or two, one of them would get lost, and there would be a search party. Katie wouldn’t let that happen to her. She had an innate sense of direction. And, occasionally, she cut small marks in trees as she passed, just to be sure she wouldn’t get lost.
But getting lost was a thought that haunted her.
She’d already been lost by everything she’d ever loved. She didn’t want to get lost from everything else, too.
There were many trails that led to notable places. One led to a waterfall. Another led to a system of caves and an underwater river. Katie tended to avoid that one, though. There had been too many stories of kids swimming into the caves and drowning.
She couldn’t drown.
She wanted to die in a BattleMech.
Well, she didn’t really want to die at all. But if she had to choose her death, she knew she wanted it to be inside a ’Mech.
That was the only thing that made sense to her.
The hike would be good for her, but she wanted to stay away from the beaten paths. She didn’t want to interact with anyone who wasn’t a ’Mech or a MechWarrior. And she wouldn’t be finding anyone like that on Jerangle, at least not near Potsdam.
Pushing on, she found an opening she could forge on her own. Taking a deep right turn into dense foliage, Katie kicked her way through and walked until she came to the steep gash of a ravine. She knew it to be where the Mindel River cut through the jungle as it headed through Potsdam and out to the sea. She’d never seen the ravine from this high up before. Usually, she’d hike down the other way and see the falls from below.
Perhaps there hadn’t been trails up to this spot because people found it dangerous. She let out a series of shallow breaths, doing her best to catch it. After wiping the sweat from her face, Katie pulled her beat-up old canteen from her belt and took a long, cool draught of the water.
Cutting through the jungle without a machete was difficult work. And the bits of her exposed flesh told the tale. She’d been nicked and cut in a dozen places where sharp leaves cut her or branches snagged her. But she had no qualms with the damage. She’d nicked the trees to keep her trail as much as they had nicked her, so it seemed a fair exchange.
She was just grateful to be out. And alive. And alone with her thoughts.
In these quiet times, she daydreamed about BattleMechs as much as she’d dreamed of anything in her nights, and tromping through the jungles reminded her of everything she wanted to do with her life, only from the cockpit of a ’Mech.
Screwing the cap back onto her canteen, she hooked it back onto her belt and took a long look at the ravine before her. The edge stood a few feet from her and she couldn’t see the sparkle of the running water below her at that angle, but she could certainly hear its forceful rush. It added a lovely background to the foreground noise of cawing birds.
She stepped forward, inching closer to the edge until she could see the current far below her. A narrow shaft of hot sunlight cut across the chasm and made the water sparkle below it.
Truly a beautiful sight.
She looked up and down the ravine, hoping she could place where along the path she was, but didn’t recognize the curve. She might have from an aerial map, just not from her memory. She etched the curve into her mind, hoping to look it up later.
That’s when the glint of something silvery caught her eye down below.
Just as the river upstream disappeared, there stood a copse of jungle trees on an embankment on the shore. The trees climbed up to the level where she was, and it would be a hike to get down there. But through those trees, the sun caught metal.
