<div align="center">(http://fc09.deviantart.net/fs71/f/2013/238/9/1/battletech___unseen_moon_by_shimmering_sword-d6jvfsf.jpg)<br/><br/><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 36pt;"><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: impact;">BATTLETECH 3057<br/>The Ol' Bones' Chronicle</span></span></div><br/><hr/><div class="floatright">(http://www.sarna.net/wiki/images/d/d7/Outreach.jpg)</div>The planet of Outreach was a gathering point for mercenaries long before the Mercenary Review and Bonding Commission established its foothold here in 3054. It had been sort of a gathering point even before Jaime Wolf was granted ownership of the planet in 3030, though not in anyway near the same capacity. Nowadays both of the twin continents of the planet house major infrastructure and mega-cities that serve every need of the Mercenary markets of the Inner Sphere. If one listens to the rumors building on Outreach that all the registered mercs outnumber any of the Great Houses military power, one begins to wonder if these accommodations are not far too small still. As always, war remains an attractive business in the Sphere, even after the Clan Invasion was stopped on Tukayyid. The Mercenary is an ever growing asset. They deserve nothing but the best, the MRBC says in their adverts and pamphlets.<br/><br/>Once you've dropped in an 9,700 ton egg from orbit and decelerated from xxx m/s to a comfortable xxx m/s with a thrust of 2,5 G and landed on a specified dropspot in a bustling DropShip port you are probably never going to be normal again. Walter Veijer had a theory that this sort of pressure somehow dislodged a tiny switch-bone at the base of your spine that were keeping all the Merc out of your system until that moment. Once you dropped you never stopped. He had been at it for many years now. Not even close to Alroy and Erich, who should probably have retired a long time ago if they worked in any other industry than the mercenary one. Yet they trudged on. Perhaps their 'Mechs served as their walkers and wheelchairs nowadays. The Ol' Bones were certainly starting to live up to their names. Hopefully the new blood would change that. Commander Walter always shook hands with all those who were leaving the company for other work as soon as everything was landed and secured. Good men all, some more than others, but he had said goodbye and hello to so many over the years. It was those that he never got the chance to say goodbye to that ate a little on him at some nights. People like Kilroy, Hiro, Yamina and...<br/><br/>"Sir, everything is ready for unloading and reloading, uploading and downloading. Want us to begin?" Walter looked back to the Chief of Engineering and gave a nod. That phrase had become the standard now ever since Janos began using it. Though his 'Old man' had been replaced with a more hierarchy-appropriate sir ever since he left.<br/><br/>Walter spent the next five hours while the rest of the company unloaded and reloaded with the MRBC, signing reports and filling out the necessary forms to decommission old employees fom the company roster and commissioning new ones. He had a quick chat with his contacts that he had largely inherited from old Perkins, but he had managed to charm a few new ones from the different houses, not the least those from the St Ives Compact and the Rasalhague Republic. Dealings with the Commission became increasingly easier the more friendly you were to its members. The Ol' Bones had the benefit of not having picked any clear sides since it had been founded. But that made things a little uneasy among the Great Houses. So far they had at least made a minor enemy of the Capellans from their little 'kidnapping' affair on Betelgeuse some six years ago, which meant they had at least some support from the Davions, Steiners and Kuritans. No one liked a snake, or at least so they had all thought. Now the Free Worlds League were getting cozy with the Capellan Confederation. Which meant everyone was on edge.<br/><br/>As for the Dragoons themselves Walter personally couldn't stand them, but he had one of their former members among his officers that made sure relations were smooth. That Ranna still could stand them after the revelation of their true origins Walter could not begin to fathom, but at least she wasn't as pompous a lot as they were. By all accounts Ranna was among the people Walter trusted the most in the whole Inner Sphere. Something he clearly couldn't say about Jaime Wolf himself. Then again he had some strange bedfellows himself. Even though ComStar had shown themselves as a bit of an untrustworthy sort by the end of the Invasion, that was not really any secret to anyone. It was rather the depth of their treachery that had shocked the Inner Sphere. But in Walter's eyes Anastasius Focht had done more than enough to prove their intentions. As such ComStar remained one of their strongest supporters and employers over the years.<br/><br/>After the visit to the MRBC Walter made the last stop of the day at the Coolant Leak Bar. It wasn't really anything special, there were plenty of more extravagant and exotic locales in uptown Harlech where mercenaries could boast with their pretended wealth in luxurious casinos, silk laden bordellos and fancy lounge establishment with true alcoholic delicacies from around the Sphere and as far out as from the Deep Periphery. The Leaking Coolant enjoyed something even better than that, despite its rundown seedy appearance from outside and the dimly lit halls that made up its interior. It was the place of choice of a large number of mercs and corps, including the Ol' Bones. Verilliam Jackson, the stocky former FWL mercenary veteran who owned the place, knew just about everyone that came through the doors by name and knew what poisons they used to forget. So Walter arrived at his ordinary bar stool witha Mead-Bomb already waiting for him, a rather nasty strong brew from the FRR, thick as bread and with a strange taste of honey and rye, with an even nastier shot glass of akvavit dumped into it. Tasted like shit but cleaned out the soul, Trondheimeans usually said. Walter found it rather tasty actually.<br/><br/>"Just you tonight, Mongrel?" Jackson asked with a smile. Walter returned it and gave a sigh. "No such luck, Jack. The rest is coming soon I suspect, new recruits as well. Just wanted a bit of peace before the storm." He paused and took a heavy swig from the large stein in front of him, after which he pulled out his pipe and started stuffing it with tobacco. Only Walter and Erich were allowed to smoke in the bar. And of course... "Know what day it is, Jack?" The man behind the bar pulled a little on his scruffy beard before pouring a glass of brandy. "Yeah..." he said, putting the glass on a coaster by the seat next to Walter. "March 5th. The day Perks was murdered." Walter lit his pipe with a nod, plumes of smoke shooting out of his nose, before he pulled out a cigar, Cuban as they called it, though he knew most of them came from FWL worlds nowadays. Jackson put an ashtray next to the glass of brandy while Walter lit the cigar and placed it in the tray to burn out on its own. "He's living the good life with Kilroy in Valhall right now." They exchanged a laugh as Jackson walked off to bring out more drinks for when the rest of the company arrived. Walter sat silent for a moment before tapping the glass of brandy with his stein and emptying it. The others would arrive soon hopefully and fill the hall with a little more cheer.