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Down far below on the surface of the planet at the edges of the Ingersoll Industrial Complex, Richochet Lance finishes its sweep of the area. In the lead, MechWarrior Mitchell Green, a.k.a. "Panther" brings his Raven BattleMech to a halt and scans the area. His lancemates move in behind him. "Commander," Panther replies, "It's real quiet down here. I think we can call it clear." He sees nothing, feels no sign of the enemy. He is confident they are alone. He is wrong. Harrison starts at Panther's words. Too many people are listening for Panther to be so imprecise. "You think?" Harrison barks. "Don't think, MechWarrior. Find out." He shakes his head slightly. "Finish your sweep." As he does he hears from behind him the clear chirp of the Colonel's private intra-ship comm channel. He knows his time has just about run out. Lieutenant Hensley, Reese's aid, listens for a moment to the incoming message and then turns to her, speaking softly but deliberately not quiet enough so that Harrison won't hear. "Colonel." He says. "Flight deck needs final confirmation."
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