Randall N. Bills - Highlander Chronicles - Isolation's Weight

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BATTLECORPS

HIGHLANDER CHRONICLES

Isolation’s Weight

By Randall N. Bills

A NOTE TO READERS ABOUT SECURITY

These preview PDF ﬁles are being released with nothing beyond the

basic security; you need not be a subscriber to BattleCorps to enjoy this

ﬁction. Feel free to distribute these PDFs throughout the community to

harken the return of Classic BattleTech ﬁction!

However, please keep in mind that future PDFs will be released with

appropriate security measures to ensure BattleCorps can continue to

provide new ﬁction and art for the BattleTech community every month.

BattleCorps Security Team

BATTLECORPS

Isolation's Weight • Page 2

Jacob’s Mountain

Tortinia, Kiamba

Benjamin Military District, Draconis Combine

15 April 3067

Lieutenant Cameron Baird watched as the

odious-black smoke trail dissipated on the stiff

mountain winds. Burning debris rained down

across several kilometers. It looked as if the sky

was bleeding.

“Can you believe that?” His comm system

pounced to life as James broke the silence.

“Wow. Too much.”

Wow? Watching a Clan Broadsword-class Drop-

Ship falling through a cobalt sky had been sobering, true. Like

a flaming thunderbolt tossed by Zeus’s own hand. But Cameron

read deeper. What the hell was a Ghost Bear force doing raiding

Kiamba? What could be of interest to a lone DropShip on Jacob’s

Mountain? Surely they could care less about elements from

MacLeod’s Regiment of the Northwind Highlanders.

He shivered, though he knew the cockpit didn’t hold a chill and

would soon be anything but cold. He hated it here. Hated the snow

and the isolation from anything living beyond the small force

around him. Hell, he would’ve preferred Hecate’s Swamp to this

eternal cold. But not James. Wherever the action was.

Had Cameron ever been that young? That naïve? He hoped not.

“Yes, James. Wonderful.” Did the boy hear the sarcasm? Probably

not. The starch of his new cooling vest (handed to him, what, six

months ago upon graduation from the NMA?) probably pushed up

against his ears, making it hard for him to hear anything. Beyond

his own voice, of course.

Cameron couldn’t help but let a quirky smile spread his slim lips,

a sparkle flashing in hazel eyes. He knew a certain lieutenant col-

onel who shepherded a younger, stupider Cameron through his

first year after the Academy. Who almost throttled him on at least

ten different occasions. At least.

Cameron reached forward and toggled from the topographical

map that displayed across the secondary screen, to radar, as the

ghost of Geoff McFadden’s words seemed to rise up like holog-

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BATTLECORPSHIGHLANDERCHRONICLESIsolation’sWeightByRandallN.BillsANOTETOREADERSABOUTSECURITYThesepreviewPDFﬁlesarebeingreleasedwithnothingbeyondthebasicsecurity;youneednotbeasubscribertoBattleCorpstoenjoythisﬁction.FeelfreetodistributethesePDFsthroughoutthecommunitytoharkenthereturnofClassicBattleTec...

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