Mission summary: Supply Line Convoy
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Re: The Tarnstead Dilemma
Aftermath
Only Truck #3 limped into Redstone Vale three hours later, carrying a battered FTM infantry platoon and a fraction of the supplies. Four civilians were dead and two lost shipments of medical and communication supplies. The supply line convoy was a disaster.
But scattered across Checkpoint Charlie: one destroyed TCA Locust, one wrecked Flea, and the headless husk of a Wolfhound.
Commander Krine didn't explode. That would have been easier.
He was quiet. Dangerously quiet.
In the debriefing room at Redstone Vale headquarters, he looked at each of them in turn. Behind him, salvage crews were already hauling Torres's Wolfhound back to base—the head was scrap, but the engine, weapons, and most of the structure were intact.
"You won the battle," Krine said finally. "Comprehensively. TCA Patrol Lieutenant Torres is indistinguishable from smashed circuitry of his cockpit, and we just captured more military hardware than we've taken in three months." His voice was level, almost cold. "And you still failed the mission."
Gigratu started to object. "We eliminated the enemy force—"
"You lost four civilians. Four people who were risking their lives to support us. You lost two-thirds of critical supplies the southern communities desperately need." Krine leaned forward. "You chose aggression over caution. You wanted to prove yourselves in combat instead of completing the mission."
He gestured to the salvage reports on his desk. "Yes, we got a Wolfhound. Yes, you destroyed a Locust & a Flea. And now what? The TCA knows we're operating on Route 7. They'll reinforce their patrols. The farmers you lost, Petyr Rostov? His father is one of our most important supporters—and I have to tell him his son died because our new mercenaries thought winning a fight was more important than protecting the convoy."
Krine stood, pacing. "This isn't the Inner Sphere. We don't measure success by kill ratios and salvage tonnage. We measure it by whether the mission succeeds. Those farmers' sons you got killed? Their families needed them. Their communities needed them. The FTM needed them."
He sat back down, studying the three of them. "Here's the calculus: you cost me four civilians and most of the convoy. But you also cost the TCA their best patrol commander, a trio of 'Mechs, and an inflated ego. That salvage? That's worth something. Your performance in combat? Undeniable. Your tactical judgment? Questionable."
Krine tapped the desk. "The contract continues. But understand this: if I wanted killers, I'd have hired pirates. I hired you because I thought you were professionals. Prove me right."
Contract Status: CONTINUED WITH WARNING
The Lesson Learned
That night, the three members of Ashen Lance sat in their repair bay, watching Incubus's techs work on Gigratu's overheated Talon. In the adjacent bay, FTM salvage crews were stripping Torres's Wolfhound down to assess what could be saved.
"We won," Shax said, but there was no triumph in his voice. "Why does it feel like we lost?"
"Because we did lose," Gigratu said quietly. "We won the wrong fight."
"Krine's correct.” Incubus interjected. “We were thinking like House military. Kill the enemy, take the salvage, claim victory. That works when you have logistics chains and replacement everything. The FTM doesn't."
"Four people died," Gigratu continued. "Because I chose aggression. Because I wanted to prove we were worth hiring." He looked at his hands. "Torres knew what he was doing. He baited us. He sacrificed his position and his 'Mech to destroy the mission objective. And it worked."They sat in silence, watching the techs work.
"The 'Mechs," Shax finally said. "That's a hell of a salvage pull. We could repair one, add it to the lance."
Incubus shook his head. "Or we could give them to the FTM. Krine's people need 'Mechs more than we need a fourth unit we can't fully crew yet."
Gigratu considered. "Gesture of good faith. Show we understand the bigger picture."
"Or we keep it and actually expand our capabilities," Shax countered. "That was the whole point of the salvage rights—build up our strength."
It was Incubus who saw the middle path. "We keep the weapons and parts we can use. Engine, structure—sell those to the FTM at cost. They get a 'Mech that can fight, we get components for repairs and upgrades. Everybody wins."
Gigratu nodded slowly. "Ashen Lance rises from what burns. But maybe we need to think about who else rises with us."
