<strong>Somewhere along the archipelago.</strong><br/><hr/>The electronic suites of the light 'Mechs lit up as the DropShip plunged through the atmosphere. The strange looking 'Mech of the lance leader looked to the sky, seeing the new arrival blasting its retro-thrusters to bring the large hunk of spheroid metal to a soft landing among the hab-blocks surrounding the HPG-facility. After a moment of silence it turned, the lance of exotic 'Mechs breaking off into a stride towards the inward of the small islet they had perched on. Communications was coming to life, the tactical maps updating with new data from the lances and bringing the full picture together. Three drones shot up towards the sky like miniature meteors, soon blending in with the night sky as their thrusters settled in.<br/><br/>"Goyim's bringing in a mixed unit." a call came over the comm from the lance leader of the other recon lance "It's like a travelling museum or something."<br/><br/>Dayan himself wrinkled a brow in his saucer shaped command 'Mech standing among the mediums of the main lance. The data gathered from the drones didn't seem to match up with Bones' company. It was such a hodgepodge of patterns, nothing like the very strict and structured company he was running. Bones had fielded a variety, but not like this. There was not one common 'Mech between them all. 10, split up in three lances of 4, 3, 3. He recognized the two walking towards the HPG building. The image was unclear and from far away, but there was no tricking Dayans old eagle eyes. Perkins and that young warrior Walter Veijer. Which meant the old man himself was probably out of the picture.<br/><br/>"So what do we do? That Perkins has contacts within ComStar, right?" It was Hailm Dayan from the ambush lance, son of the Colonel and the inheritor of the company. "They can cause a whole lot of troubles for our mission."<br/><br/>"No worries, my children..." Colonel Dayan smirked and watched as the duo disappeared into the facility, shifting his focus to the 'Mechs making it out of the DropShip. "This might prove a blessing in disguise to us."<br/><br/><hr/><br/>Walter was surprised by the recreational facility. The name itself didn't sound like much fun. More like some sort of Maskirovka torture chamber. But he found himself surrounded by pool-tables, archaic arcade machines and smiling people in oil stained jumpsuits rather than the stone faced acolytes in robes. For a moment he wondered if they might not have entered one of the hab-blocks instead, but Perkins just smiled at his bewildered expression.<br/><br/>"ComStar have taking some steps towards a more open structure the last couple of years. This outpost in particular has become a rather... radical pioneer when it comes to the traditions, moving away from the heavily ritualistic fashions of the main body. It's a ballsy move to be sure, not all of ComStar are as progressive mind you."<br/><br/>"No kidding..." Walter had always held the mystic order in awe and high regard. It was somehow jarring to see their adepts and acolytes behaving like normal human beings. He sat down on a comfy sofa, his head spinning at this sudden revelation of the inner workings of the secretive ComStar. If it affected him like this he could only imagine what those less progressive elements of the order thought of it. "But all the rituals around the generators... doesn't this affect the performance?"<br/><br/>Perkins laughed as he sat down next to Walter. "Not as much as you would think. Rest assured that we can still call up anyone within the Sphere when we need to."