It’s a Peaceful Life (Battletech AU/SI)

[MarkWarrior]

A few days later, Luke came to a decision about what to do with the bakery.

"So, I'm going to be honest," Luke confided in me as we set things up one morning. "Cheryl and I aren't really all that attached to the bakery. It's something for me to do that keeps me busy, but we're just as comfortable doing anything else. In fact, Cheryl would rather us find something we can do together as we get older. With that in mind, we're going to go forward with finding a buyer for the bakery. But until we have everything sorted out, we're going to keep it open."

There was a part of me that was disappointed. I had hoped that Luke, Cheryl, and their family would be willing to keep the bakery. But at the same time, I also understood why they were deciding to sell it.

"You getting reactivated changed things, didn't it?" I asked, putting a handful of pieces together.

"Aye," Luke nodded, swallowing down the last bite of a donut with some coffee. "Cheryl and I thought we were done dealing with the long distance shit. But if there's a chance that I'm going to have to go back behind enemy lines with this new war then we want to spend as much time together as possible."

We slowly cleaned up and started opening the shop after that. A comfortable silence filled the atmosphere as we moved through all of the routines.

"How long do you think it'll take to find a buyer?" I finally asked.

"Depends on the market, really," Luke shrugged. "I could find someone next week, or it could be six months from now. Either way, we're open until someone makes an offer."

"Fair enough," I replied. "Just give me a fair warning if you get the chance. I'm close to being self-sufficient with regard to the farm. Just need to find a buyer for the meat and eggs we produce."

"I can't help you with that one," the veteran chuckled. "I'm barely competent here in the bakery. Animals and farms aren't exactly my thing," he paused. "Unless you count killing and eating them in the field."

"I mean, most of the processing is similar," I replied. "But it's not the sort of shop-talk to get into when we're about to open."

---

The transition from the small boot-camp experience into a classroom environment was somewhat jarring to Katherine. All of the time she'd spent locked into a room had changed and twisted a part of her.

Gone were the days when she was perfectly fine with spending the entirety of her day in a classroom diving into information and absorbing it. No, something inside drove her outside, she needed to be able to see the sun, to feel the wind on her skin, and experience life.

Thankfully, their curriculum split up the classrooms and field exercises. With the goal of training high quality officers, they spent almost as much time in the field as they did in the classroom. With every session of classroom and book learning supplemented by applying those lessons in the field.

The other thing that separated Boot Camp from the rest of the Officer training was Liberty. Every two weeks the cadets were allowed three days off. With the requirement being that any time spent off-site had to be approved by their CO.

Kat had plans for her three days off. While everyone else seemed hyper-focused on going to local bars, or spending them asleep in the barracks, she wanted to do something that meant more.

The first day, she'd spend with Yvonne and her father in the Mountain. Hopefully Victor had finally sent a letter back or something more to indicate that he was alive since the world he was stationed on was attacked.

The second day, she was going to spend with Mark. It was kinda funny, she'd expected more butterflies or things out of the romance novels she and her friends had read growing up. While those things weren't lacking. They weren't the constant that had been depicted. Instead, there was a constant comfort. The knowledge firm that no matter what, that he would be there waiting. If she needed anything, or if anything were wrong, that he would be there to fix it. To offer an ear or a hand as needed.

Kat shook her head, finishing her woolgathering, and tossing the last of her clothes into her ruck.

"Where are you headed, Davion?" Adam Durand asked.

"Out on leave, Squad leader," Kat replied. "I've got the approval here." She handed him the slip of paper showing that everything had been stamped and filed appropriately.

"Everything looks like it's in order, enjoy," the minor noble replied. "I'll be available through today if you or any of the squad needs anything. I'll be unavailable tomorrow or the day after."

"I'll keep that in mind," Kat smiled. "See you in three days."

She slung the ruck over her shoulder and headed for the door. Every minute mattered, after all.

---

LIC Report: 17655059KH

Subject: Evacuation of VIPs and the 2nd Kell Hounds
Date: August 11, 3050

Reporting Agent: REDACTED

Due to the circumstances involving this letter and the due to the subjects involved including letters to be transmitted, I have decided to be direct in my naming conventions at this time.

The Battle of Tell I has dragged on for months, and most of the 12th Donegal Guards have been crippled or destroyed in the ensuing conflict with the X-Rays, (Now identified as Clan Jade Falcon). The Kell Hounds are better off, but only slightly so, and as such were instructed to evacuate Trell with the wounded and the VIPs in the form of Victor Steiner-Davion and Phelan Kell.

The VIPS did require some heavy convincing, but were able to be persuaded to depart, though somewhat unwillingly.

I will be remaining behind with the 12th Donegal Guards in order to maintain potential communications with their forces left as well as the Federated Commonwealth Armed Forces.

The rest of my reports have been attached to this document as well as letters from both of the VIPs.

Any further reports are unlikely due to enemy aggression.

Agent Redacted.

 

[MarkWarrior]

It was shocking how quickly Luke had an offer for the Bakery. A week after he'd listed it on the open real estate market, I arrived to see Luke showing a couple around the bakery.

"Miss Margaret, Mister Thomas, this is my employee, Mark Smith," Luke introduced me with a smile.

"A pleasure," I shook their hands. "I take it y'all are interested in purchasing the place?"

"Aye," the man agreed.

"We want to change things up a bit, though," Margaret offered, her brown curls bouncing as she grinned. "This place is in the perfect location for serving tea and coffee. Not that your original business idea was bad. But there's so much potential for a return on investment here."

Thomas was obviously excited as well but was more tempered in his approach.

"We've already made our business plan, and we don't have to purchase a ton of extra equipment with what is already here at the location," He glanced at the ovens, mixers, and such. "So we can continue making pastries in-house and selling them with the other refreshments."

I glanced at Luke, and he shrugged. His body language screamed for me to continue listening.

I mentally sighed and then reached into my mind for scattered conversations and business plans my parents had made when I was a teenager.

"So, obviously, coffee and tea will sell well in the mornings," I agreed. "Have you considered what you might want to do in the afternoons or around lunchtime? Do you intend to work only in the mornings? What's the plan here?"

"Well, we have a few ideas," the couple exchanged glances. "But we'd prefer to keep them close to our chest."

"Fine by me," I nodded at Luke. "Boss, do you want me here for the rest of this? Or…" I trailed off.

"I'll contact you later this week," Luke replied.

"See you around," I grabbed my helmet and walked out through the door, shoving any emotion down for the moment as I swung my leg over the bike.

Engaging the kickstart, I put on my helmet and pulled out of the parking lot. I navigated the streets of the early morning until I reached a highway with no speed limit and a stretch that went on for miles.

Opening the throttle, I allowed the sadness, the shock, and any feelings of rage to just be, processing and allowing the emotions to run their course. The wind swirled around me as my wheels ate up the miles. The roar of the engine drowned out everything else.

First, ten minutes passed, then twenty, and before I knew it, I lost track of time. By the time I reached the end of that stretch of the road, I had finally made peace with the fact that part of my life would be changing. Sure, it hadn't been unexpected, but emotions don't tend to follow logic.

Pulling off to the side, I removed my helmet and reached into a saddlebag for the canteen of water I kept there. I swished the spit and taste of sweat, clearing it out with water before spitting it out. Then, I took a long gulp of the refreshing liquid before sealing the canteen again and placing it back into the bag.

Looking around, I chuckled as I realized I'd gone the opposite way from home and ended up on the other side of the city.

So, I threw my helmet back on and cranked the engine again. I was definitely in a better place to enjoy the ride. The only thing that would make it better right now was if I had some company along for it.

---

Kat paused at the bakery's entrance, a frown shaping her face as she looked at the "closed" sign hanging on the door. She glanced at her watch first and then cupped her hands to the glass before trying to peer inside.

They might just be opening late. But the lack of lights on the inside told a different story. Pixie's Pastries was closed. The cartoonish Phoenix Hawk that usually lit up and displayed the "Open" sign was off, and there wasn't any indication the bakery would open at all.

Sighing, Kat turned around and went to leave when the door opened.

"Get on in here," the familiar voice filled her ears.

"Hey, Luke," she grinned, stepping inside behind the old man. "Everything alright? I thought you would be deep in the opening procedures by now."

"I'll be blunt," Luke replied, opening the door to the small office. "I'm selling the bakery. I'm old. It's time for me to finally retire and spend more time with my grandkids."

Kat was stunned. Her hands reached for the seat across from the old MIIO agent, found the back of the chair, and then sat down.

"Is it because you rescued me?" Katherine asked, meeting Luke's eyes.

"In part, yes," Luke shrugged. "But it goes beyond that, Princess."

He sighed and reached for a pack of cigarettes that wasn't in his pocket anymore before standing up and pulling a drawer out, an old, worn-out red label showing the brand of smokes before he stood and gestured for the Steiner-Davion to follow him.

As soon as they stepped out, a lighter found its way into his hands, a well-practiced gesture that opened the brass device and lit the cancer stick in one fluid motion. "I've faced my own mortality many times throughout my life," Luke exhaled a small cloud of smoke. "But as you get older, the more you stare at death, the more it stares back at you. Any op that I went on this late in life would have had the same results. It wasn't rescuing you that brought this on. It was Cheryl and I reflecting on life after I came back."

Luke allowed it to grow quiet as he finished that cigarette and fished out another, offering one to Kat, but she waved him off.

"I don't know how many years I've got left to spend with my kids," he continued. "With my grandkids. My son is jump infantry, and he's been deployed along with that whole task force to deal with the invasion. If the worst happens and we get a letter, I don't want to regret spending more time here working instead of spending as much time as I have with them. Mark will be fine without the bakery. He's got enough going on without having to keep the lights on in this place. Hell," Luke laughed and then coughed a bit. "He was the only reason we could stay in business in the first place. Custom Cakes are serious business. The donuts and other shit kept the lights on, but the cakes were where the profit was."

The old man shook his head and tossed the half-full box of cigarettes into the trash, smushing out the last butte with his foot.

"Even without the op to rescue you, we probably still would've sold the bakery in the next year or so," Luke locked eyes with the young woman. "It took me a few years after getting out. But I think I'm finally back home…"

The old man started heading to his vehicle.

"Mark took off down towards the west," Luke waved in the general direction. "If I was a betting man, I'd say that he went for a ride. Day like this, he's probably going to want to grab something for the evening, some steaks, a cigar, maybe some whiskey. You'll find him at the cigar shop at Westmere Ave and 28th Street intersection in an hour or so, depending on how far he went. I'll see you around."

Luke waved goodbye as he left the small parking lot, smiling as he pulled into the traffic flow.

Meanwhile, Kat mulled over the conversation as she headed back to the front of Pixie's Pastries, where the bodyguard she'd been assigned was still waiting by the car.

"Looks like we're headed to Westmere and 28th," Katherine informed the man.

"Understood, ma'am," The bodyguard nodded, his eyes meeting hers in the rearview mirror. "Scenic route or fast?"

"Scenic," Katherine shrugged. "There's plenty of parts of Avalon City I haven't seen yet. Might as well take in the view."