Author Topic: Davion & Davion (Deceased)  (Read 85397 times)

drakensis

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Re: Davion & Davion (Deceased)
« Reply #420 on: 20 April 2018, 06:17:03 »
Imperial City, Luthien
Pesht District, Draconis Combine
20 October 2779

The Black Room no longer held novelty for Zabu. It was a rare day he didn’t find himself there and some nights he would wake suddenly besides a pillow woman and realise he’d been haunting the command centre in his dreams, wrestling with the burdens.

“Without more supplies we cannot take the war back to the Davions,” Fujiwara insisted. “Rasalhague and Pesht districts have reserves that we must be given access to.” The Warlord of Benjamin was hollow-eyed, the disease that was eating away at his liver draining him more and more.

“There are no such reserves,” Manati insisted. “All that remained after previous shipments was used to combat the rebel SLDF.”

Zabu closed his eyes in meditation. This feuding was useful to him personally, for it kept the pair from uniting against him, but it was beginning to weaken the DCMS as their districts took cues from their leaders. How to respond, what would father have done? No, what would grandfather have done? Ah, yes. That could work.

“I hear the chirping of a bird,” he said, just loud enough to be audible. All eyes turned to him. “Warlord Fujiwara, since you believe we have untapped reserves of supplies in Pesht, you are to replace Warlord Manati in command of his district. Warlord Manati has proven his fitness to command in defeating General Nakazono and shall replace Warlord Fujiwara in command of Benjamin District.”

Both men stared at him, then at each other. They scowled and subsided into their seats.

“Lord Kurita.” Warlord Sorenson of Rasalhague was a distant cousin to House Kurita but was wise enough not to presume upon the connection. “Such a rearrangement could further delay a renewed offensive.”

“The Dragon has clawed twice at the Suns and found their strikes blunted. It behoves the high command to give great consideration to how a third attack may succeed.” In other words, ‘like hell am I attacking again as things stand’.

“And as our stockpiles have been depleted we’ll need time to rebuild them,” agreed Manati. “More factories must be established to provide the material of war for the DCMS.”

“Efforts are under way,” General Takara assured them. She was one of the very few women to reach a senior rank in the DCMS, a fussy woman with spectacles she looked over more than through. But she was just as precise with a katana as with her words and had killed fourteen men in kenjutsu duels through her career. “Such measures will take time, however.”

“And in the short term, what does the Department of Procurement suggest?” sneered Fujiwara.

Zabu held up his hand to silence the warlord. Once he had their attention he turned the back of his hand towards them and slowly closed his fingers until he was showing them a clenched fist. “It seems to me that there are indeed stockpiles of war material that have yet to be tapped,” he observed. “It is merely that they are not within Pesht or Rasalhague District. You should investigate such sources, Warlord Sorenson.”

Sorenson’s eyes flicked from Zabu’s hand to the Coordinator’s eyes. He bowed deeply. “Indeed, our lord sees deeply,” he murmured. “May I enquire, the harmony of the Star League is…”

“There has been little harmony within the Star League of late. Let us not be seen to disturb it further.”

“Of course, lord.”

Zabu turned to the ISF liaison officer. “I understand there to be fresh reports with regard to the Capellans’ efforts against the Federated Suns?”

“Yes lord.” The man touched a control. “Lord Baltazar Liao, the Capellan heir, led a naval squadron against the shipyards at Kathil. Our sources confirm that the yards were significantly damaged but not destroyed and only one warship, CCS Solstice returned – so badly damaged that without access to a major shipyard it will be years before it is battle-ready.”

“Their carriers failed then?” asked Tai-sho Murata of the Draconis Combine Admiralty.

“They were destroyed but their fighters inflicted significant losses on the Federated Suns. Our understanding is that the experiment has been considered a success and further Carrack-class ships are to be converted.”

Zabu nodded. “It is to be expected that in copying our own measures that they would find some form of victory. Continue to train more pilots, Murata. It is clear that this form of naval warfare has its own costs and I shall require both pilots and MechWarriors in the future.”

The MechWarriors present brindled and he feigned amusement. “Consider a daisho, the twin swords both long and short. And do the samurai not master both sword and bow? Does the one weapon diminish the other?”

Manati nodded. “Of course, Lord Kurita. Your wisdom is ever before us as a guide.”

“We have also received confirmation,” the ISF officer added, “that the Capellan heir survived the destruction of his flagship. Unfortunately, the Solstice was unable to recover him and he is in Davion hands.”

“Damn!” Sorenson exclaimed. “If he is used as a hostage…”

“Davion would not dare,” disagreed Fujiwara. “To act like Amaris would stain his reputation and the Prince preens it too much to risk it.”

Zabu considered the two men and then looked back to the spy. “And your superior’s analysis?”

“Lord, we do not believe Lord Davion would overtly threaten Lord Liao. It seems more likely that he will permit the Chancellor’s fears to moderate her actions and perhaps use this to open some form of negotiations.”

“A subtle strategy,” the Coordinator agreed. “So, we cannot expect the Capellans to strike boldly or with great effect.” He smiled slightly. “No change then, I suppose?”

Manati laughed out loud. “Indeed, lord.”

Even Fujiwara managed a slight smile, but it faded swiftly. “Davion’s flanks will be… subdued then. He will be able to focus his full attention on Lucas and the SLDF.”

“Do you not believe in them?” asked Takara curiously.

The newly appointed Warlord of Pesht shook his shaven head sharply. “They are lesser men, with lesser leadership. They toppled Amaris, but he was not of Davion’s calibre.”

“You thought little of him a moment ago.”

“He is proud, too proud to stoop to threats against the helpless,” Fujiwara gave a baleful look at a map upon the wall. “And yet, his victories make it clear that his pride is not without foundation.”

“It is said that man is measured by the greatness of his enemies,” Zabu noted. “It seems that House Kurita is blessed with a powerful enemy.”

.o0O0o.

Avalon City, New Avalon
Crucis March, Federated Suns
9 November 2779

John nodded to Owen as he entered the outer office. “Good morning. Is there anything unexpected today?”

His secretary pushed back his chair and rose to his feet. “Nothing new but Minister Reznick thinks you’ll want to hear her news at the first opportunity so she’ll be here in a couple of minutes and I pushed the meeting with Minister Parks back to before lunch.”

“Hmm. I wonder what she’s turned up,” John mused and then smiled wryly. “I guess I don’t have to be patient for very long.”

He hadn’t seen Hanse so far this morning. The ghost was familiar with his schedule and hadn’t seemed particularly interested in sitting through a finance meeting first thing, so he probably wouldn’t turn up for a few hours. His loss.

Freshly made coffee was steaming on the First Prince’s desk as Francesca Reznick was ushered into the room right on the dot of 09:00. The Minister of Intelligence was neatly dressed and her hair was slightly damp but the lines around her eyes suggested she’d been up all night.

“Hello Francesca. Coffee?”

“Thank you, sire. That smells wonderful.”

John already knew how she took her coffee so he used the tongs to drop a single sugar cube into the black coffee and carried it over to the coffee table for her, setting his own mug down opposite her. “I assume there’s some new development?”

“Yes sir. News from the Magistracy via one of our Taurian connections.”

He settled down into the armchair. “Bad news?”

“For those involved, at least,” Reznick agreed and sipped the coffee. “The Free Worlds League has broken the ceasefire with the Periphery, they’ve attacked Canopus.”

“My god! An invasion?”

She shook her head. “No, although the Captain-General may have been testing the waters. A small squadron of warships – four brand new League-class destroyers – struck at their orbitals. They had several transports with them so the analysts think the idea was to strip supplies and tooling from the shipyard there to go towards restoring the SelaSys yards after MI6’s raid earlier this year.”

John frowned and lifted his own mug. “Did they act openly or was this a deniable operation?” he asked before drinking.

“Fully overt, sir. Normally that sort of squadron would merit a commodore but the commanding officer was Captain Thaddeus Marik, Kenyon Marik’s younger son. He seems to have something of a direct approach to obstacles and he doesn’t like being thwarted.”

“That sounds ominous.”

Reznick made a face and gulped down a mouthful of coffee before expanding. “The Canopians don’t have any warships left but they have armed dropships and aerospace fighters and the Magestrix made it clear that they weren’t going to just hand over what Marik wanted. When he didn’t bear off, they went for him with everything they could scrape together.”

The First Prince winced at the thought. League-class destroyers were tough customers – smaller and slower than a Davion-class but their railguns gave them a lot of firepower and they’d outrange most weapons a dropship could carry.

“Everything, in this case, included six Buccaneer freighters refitted with a pair of capital missile tubes each,” the Minister continued. “None of the freighters survived, of course, but they took out two of the destroyers and severely damaged Marik’s flagship – fortunately for him the Ospina only took a single glancing hit. Fifty kiloton warheads are no respecters of rank.”

“Indeed not.”

Reznick nodded sharply. “Once it was clear they couldn’t stop the Ospina and the one undamaged ship, FWLS Otavalo, the Canopians demolished the yard. If they couldn’t have it, they wouldn’t let the Mariks profit by it.”

“I can’t say I’m surprised. You said Thaddeus Marik didn’t like to be thwarted?”

“No sire.” She drew herself up. “His words – from an unencrypted broadcast – were that if the Canopians wanted to see their industries burn then he was happy to oblige. The Ospina and the Otavalo spent forty minutes bombarding the industrial centres around Crimson, the Canopian capital, before breaking orbit.”

John closed his eyes in prayer. After Robinson he’d hoped the worst was over. How naïve of him. “How bad was it?”

“The good news is that the factories weren’t buried under residential areas the way modern cities are laid out – most of the factories had been thrown up quickly to meet the need for goods that can’t be imported now. But there were firestorms and from the reports it seems like a third of the city is gone. Casualties will be in the tens of thousands.” She paused. “And Janina Centrella was in Crimson. We don’t have confirmation yet but our sources said no one had heard from her since the bombardment. Her daughter Rwannah is overseeing a provisional administration from the old capital of Delphi but there’s a good chance that the Magestrix is dead.”

“Dammit. No official statement I assume?”

“No. Thus far the Magestrix is simply ‘unavailable to comment’ but even a recorded statement would settle a lot rumours. Our best guess is that Rwannah wants to defer the usual squabbling with the Electors until she has her feet under her.”

“That might make sense. Acting ‘on her mother’s behalf’ might let her get more done right now than if she confirms the office is vacant and has to settle for just being one candidate.” John finished his coffee. “What do the Taurians have to say?”

“Protector Calderon has formally announced that the ceasefire with the Star League has been broken and that their remaining warships stand ready to defend them. They seem more worried about the Capellans than us though.”

“I think Barbara Liao has other concerns right now. On the other hand, that’s one wasp’s nest I don’t want to throw the AFFS into.”

“Back into, sir. The AFFS was there in ’65 and ’66,” Reznick reminded him. “The Suns isn’t really much more popular than the Capellans are, they just grasp that we’ve no real option but to leave them alone while we’ve got the SLDF occupying Cartago PDZ and half of the Marlette region.”

“Mmm.” John rubbed his face. “I suppose we’ll have to see about regularising our relationship. The trade’s been gradually on the upswing and it’s one of the brighter spots of the economy right now.”

“A little outside my field,” Reznick noted. “It’s interesting they’re claiming they have warships though. We knew they had one left, the Parin, but the phrasing suggests there’s at least one more.”

“That’s true. And finding out is your field, Minister,” he told her with a slight smile that faded as he considered the Taurian border. A single carrier group was at the Capellan end of the border but otherwise the nearest ships came to the region were the output of the Tortuga yards passing through on their way to the Capellan or Crucis Marches. Not much more than one ship a year wasn’t much of a protection. If relationships soured he’d need to move at least some patrols out to the region as well. “At least we have three fresh ‘Mech regiments in the area,” John said out loud. Some of the Federated Suns Lancers were lukewarm about facing the SLDF but they’d have no hesitation about defending his worlds against Taurian raids if it came to that.

.o0O0o.

The Triad, Tharkad
Protectorate of Donegal, Lyran Commonwealth
14 November 2779

The medical wing of the Triad had all the equipment of a major hospital and the personnel to match, even if they were normally under-utilised. Justification for that lavish provision lay in a bed, surrounded by life support machinery.

“What happened?” Jennifer Steiner asked, not taking her eyes off the rail-thin form of her elder brother. More than two decades separated them and Robert had been more of a favourite uncle than a sibling to the twins born unexpectedly late in his parent’s marriage.

Her twin shrugged helplessly. “Some sort of a stroke, if I understand the doctors. He’s been under a lot of strain.” Paul looked more and more like their father as he grew older but he wore fewer decorations on his uniform.

“More bad news from Tamar?” Bandit activity had risen sharply over the last three months, specifically targeting LCAF depots. Credibly it could be SLDF units turning renegade after their attempted coup inside the Combine had failed, either going pirate or crossing Lyran space to seek refuge with General Kerensky inside the Rim Worlds Protectorate.

Three warships and a dozen dropships configured as tankers had hit Tamar itself, destroying the cruiser Gallery and causing damage to the Bolson-Tamar shipyards. That had been more or less incidental to their capture of the orbital warehouses that supplied the yards. Three-quarters of a million tons of naval ordnance had been emptied into their holds and they’d even topped off their hydrogen tanks.

Jennifer knew that Robert took the fuelling as support for the SLDF theory but she was also aware that the Lyran Intelligence Corps had picked up reports of increased activity in Rasalhague district and cautiously suggested that this might be the Draconis Combine going back to the sort of deniable strikes that they’d carried out in the 2750s. There was some question whether they would have the ability after their recent casualties though.

Paul hesitated and then shook his head. “What have you heard about Finmark?”

“One of the Rim’s provincial capitals?” She shook her head. “Nothing lately. Should I have?”

“Given the security, probably not. On the other hand, you are the heir…”

Jennifer slammed the flat of her hand against the glass separating them from their brother’s hospital room. “Until he wakes up I’m effectively his regent. What should I know?”

Her twin took a deep breath. “Robert was convinced that Kerensky was behind the attacks so he ordered a retaliatory attack on Finmark.”

“Jesus!” she exclaimed. The SLDF – active and former – revered Kerensky. So did most of the proles in every Inner Sphere state. The fact he’d personally killed Amaris’ commanding general in single combat had cemented his role as a living legend. The last thing anyone in power needed was for him to return from the semi-exile that his post in the Rim Worlds amounted to.

“Half the Fourteenth Division was assigned to occupy Finmark long enough for the stores there to be emptied.” Her brother made a face. “They have been conflicting reports on their readiness but we’ve been focused more on getting the troops along the League and Hegemony borders into shape. I didn’t expect that part of the border to turn into a hotspot.”

“I take it then that the attack did not go well?”

“Hauptmann-General Brewer escaped with around two infantry battalions worth of actual troops – mostly because they’d never disembarked from their dropships.”

Jennifer blinked. “We lost more than seven regiments?” Lyran regiments were to all practical purposes what the SLDF would call a brigade battlegroup, combining infantry, armoured and BattleMech troops along with supporting arms.

“That was the initial report.” Paul glanced aside and with long practise his twin sister identified the reason as guilt. “It was closer to four regiments. Brewer had got to the inspector general’s office in that area.”

“It’s a long time since my time with the LCAF. What are you saying?”

“On paper the two brigades were at full strength and drawing supplies and pay accordingly. In practise, Brewer had been padding his reports and claiming numbers based on local militias and noble retinues that actually never participated in operations. I’ve asked LIC to help unravel it but I think one of the regiments he claimed didn’t even exist – I’ve not found one outside source of seeing the Seventh Arcturan Guards since they were reportedly formed in ‘72.”

Words failed Jennifer for a moment. Her fists were clenched so tightly she could feel her fingernails digging into her hands. “You sent paper soldiers to fight Kerensky’s hand-picked loyalists?”

Paul swallowed nervously. “So it would seem.”

She leant forwards and rested her forehead on the cold glass. “I take it Brewer was banking the pay and disposing of the supplies for his own benefit?”

“I assume so. We’ll need to build a case.”

Various obscenities begged to be voiced but that wouldn’t help.

“Alright. We can work with this,” Jennifer said at last. “Firstly, Brewer was not ordered to attack Finmark.”

“But…”

“Bury the trail, Paul. This was an unauthorised attack by an officer we’re going to find out was corrupt up to his eyebrows. I’ll issue a formal apology to Kerensky and throw Brewer and his associates – no one can pull this sort of thing alone – to the wolves. The one good thing about the Protector’s popularity is that no one in the Estates-General will kick off about slamming Brewer for attacking him.”

“The Brewers have a lot of stock in Defiance Industries. They could make life difficult for you.”

“We have a garrison practically inside their factories – we do have a garrison on Hesperus II, don’t we? That one’s not just on paper is it?”

“I checked Hesperus II personally,” her brother confirmed. “It’s too important a world not to make sure of.”

“Then if the Brewers kick off then we’ll detain them, freeze their accounts and turn the accountants loose on them. I’d rather not make scapegoats of the entire House but if that’s what I need to do to get the Commonwealth out of this hole then it’s a small price to pay.”

Paul nodded. “I’ll take care of it.”

“No, I’ll take care of it. You go through our forces with a toothcomb and find out what we really have in troop strength. Clean house for me Paul. Falsifying data like this is treason and however weak we might be I think we have the rope for a gallows.”

“That’ll hurt morale,” he warned.

“Only among the deadwood of our officer corps,” Jennifer retorted. “If anyone protests then they’re welcome to resign. This sort of rot cannot be allowed.”

He paused and nodded. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry, Paul. Fix this. Fix this before someone kicks this whole rotten mess out from under us.”

.o0O0o.

Avalon City, New Avalon
Crucis March, Federated Suns
20 December 2779

“I think Joshua was right about David Avellar,” John noted as he reviewed the latest reports from the Outworlds Alliance.

Hanse looked away from the screen where one of his favoured operas was being replayed – this time a performance by New Avalon Opera House, John had sponsored a series of performances. One of his unofficial responsibilities as First Prince was to be a patron of the arts and requesting a schedule of millennia-old operas was pretty patronising. “How so?”

“Unlike his mother he has a pretty good idea what’s going on. After both Kenyon Marik and Robert Steiner took stabs at their periphery neighbours he’s moved proactively in case Zabu Kurita does the same.” John held up the noteputer so that his companion could see it. “Stripped of the legalese, his new arrangement with the Pentagon League gives them access to most of the capacity of the Quatre Belle shipyards but in exchange they have to station a good portion of their warship strength there, securing it against raids.”

The redhead nodded in appreciation. “However unhappy he might be with the DeCheviliers he’s not hesitant to make use of them.”

Cynthia DeChevilier’s Pentagon League had settled for less than total independence of the Outworlds Alliance in the end. Instead they’d become a self-governing province stretching from Wynn’s Roost to Onverwacht, granted wide discretion in their industrialisation and militarisation. Or demilitarisation, since less than forty systems (some of them only sparsely populated) had difficulty supporting Aaron DeChevilier’s military forces.

In exchange, they would pay a small proportion of their taxes to the Outworlds Alliance treasury – not so small in absolute terms as industrialisation increased the wealth of the worlds – and the votes they were theoretically entitled to on the Executive Parliament were ceded to the President, giving David Avellar a lock on a quarter of the votes cast.

The reorganisation of the worlds surrounding the Pentagon League had enlarged Cerberus, Baliggora and Blommestein Provinces but it had also let Avellar move his supporters into positions within the provincial government. It was a long long way from giving him the power of most of his peers, but he was already wielding more authority than any President in the history of the Outworlds Alliance.

“If he doesn’t overplay his hand, this could transform the Alliance,” John noted thoughtfully. “Not into the equal of ourselves or the Combine but perhaps to the point of being the tipping point for influence in the region.”

“He doesn’t have any other neighbours to worry about I suppose,” agreed Hanse. “But it would be very easy for him to upset the Parliament and they still have the power to topple him. They aren’t fond of over-mighty leaders over there. After all, they mostly fled there to get away from tyrannical warmongers like House Davion.”

John threw back his head and laughed. “I hope we can shed that reputation.”

“Saints don’t get much done, John. Sometimes in politics you have to get your hands dirty. In this case, I hope he does well. Anything constraining Zabu Kurita helps us.”

“I think the Draconis Combine won’t be an issue for a good few years now. We’ve got some hard numbers on their losses and they had over a hundred and forty of their divisions – call it seventy divisions by our standards – at their high point, which was after First Robinson. Right now, our figures say they’re operating on one hundred and twenty-five divisions and half of them are seriously understrength, effective strength is something like seventy percent of that.”

“As exciting as that news is, the other side of that equation is our strength. Care to remind me of our losses?” asked Hanse with a raised eyebrow.

John fell quiet. “Sixteen divisions have been lost or disbanded,” he admitted. “A fifth of our strength gone in three years. If it wasn’t for the continued flow of defectors from the SLDF we’d be on the point of collapse.” Then his voice picked up. “But with them we’re stronger than ever. Almost as strong as the DCMS and CCAF combined.”

“Now if that was only all that we had to deal with.”

The First Prince nodded and reached for his handset, thumbing the volume of the opera up a little. He didn’t want to be overheard now of all times. “Francesca’s best estimate is that Lucas will be ready to resume his push on Markesan in the spring and he’ll have forty SLDF divisions and eighty warships to do it with. In theory we outnumber him but I can’t strip the Capellan or Draconis Marches so… really it’ll be forty or so of our divisions and thirty-three warships.”

Hanse leant back in his chair. “And that’s assuming that Barbara remains tractable.”

“I think I have to assume that. Right now, however badly the Capellan March will be hammered if she pushes it pales to what Lucas can do if he makes it another sixty light years.” Only about a hundred light years separated the SLDF spearheads from where John and Hanse sat. “I have to stop him now.”

“I told you not to hang everything on the capital,” the ghost warned. “But yes. Even if we preserve command integrity, it’d be a sign of weakness we can’t afford.”

“We’d fight on, we might even win in the end if it was just a matter of military power, but the High Council is finely balanced right now. It wouldn’t take many votes to shift for them to remove me.”

Hanse’s blue eyes snapped. “Damn politicians. In my day they’d never dare question the First Prince on military matters.”

“In your day every last member of the High Council had grown up with constant war. As had their parents, grand-parents… at least six generations of them. That’s not the case now and you’re blind to that, Hanse.” John gave him a steady look. “I know these people. I feel the same way.”

“And if Barbara pushes, despite us having her son?”

“Oddly less of an issue – most of the representatives along the Capellan border are already on the side of the Star League. What could bring me down is serious defectors from the Crucis March region. If I can’t protect the core of my power base then they have reason to doubt my fitness.”

Hanse nodded. “One last roll of the dice then.”

“Please stop using gambling metaphors. I get enough of that from Joel.”

“He’s got good sense,” John’s theoretical descendant observed. “Although he’d say it’s more you’re betting high on a pair of fours.”

“Please. I have a joker in my hand.” He frowned and then thumbed the opera off.

“Hey!”

“If I’m using gambling terms then it’s definitely too late in the evening.” John put the handset down and gathered up his papers. An early night sounded very tempting. “I’ll pick things up in the morning.”
"It's national writing month, not national writing week and a half you jerk" - Consequences, 9th November 2018

Red Pins

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Re: Davion & Davion (Deceased)
« Reply #421 on: 20 April 2018, 20:01:39 »
I have to wonder what Snow Fire is doing - if Zabu is waking most mornings with a 'pillow woman', there might be an opportunity for the Lyrans short of war.
...Visit the Legacy Cluster...
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Daryk

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Re: Davion & Davion (Deceased)
« Reply #422 on: 20 April 2018, 20:08:10 »
Interesting point!  It seems all kinds of things are now on the table,..  >:D

Red Pins

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Re: Davion & Davion (Deceased)
« Reply #423 on: 20 April 2018, 22:56:09 »
It sounds like we’ll see the Jacks soon, too, maybe against the SLDF.  What an irony.

I’d still really like to see Drak’s Drone DS with the Piranha missile launcher - I really like the idea, it’s something I may steal for my own project.
...Visit the Legacy Cluster...
The New Clans:Volume One
Clan Devil Wasp * Clan Carnoraptor * Clan Frost Ape * Clan Surf Dragon * Clan Tundra Leopard
Work-in-progress; The Blake Threat File
Now with MORE GROGNARD!  ...I think I'm done.  I've played long enough to earn a pension, fer cryin' out loud!  IlClan and out in <REDACTED>!
TRO: 3176 Hegemony Refits - the 30-day wonder

drakensis

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Re: Davion & Davion (Deceased)
« Reply #424 on: 20 April 2018, 23:35:38 »
I have to wonder what Snow Fire is doing - if Zabu is waking most mornings with a 'pillow woman', there might be an opportunity for the Lyrans short of war.
Given she assassinated his son in 2850 the odds are significant that she's not been born yet. Unless Yoguchi had a thing for women at least a decade older than him, in which case we should not judge him.
"It's national writing month, not national writing week and a half you jerk" - Consequences, 9th November 2018

SCC

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Re: Davion & Davion (Deceased)
« Reply #425 on: 21 April 2018, 04:22:31 »
From Sarna: "Born in the Lyran Commonwealth in 2825, she joined the Lyran Intelligence Corps and was assigned to the Bodians" Also for her to be a spy in 2770's she would have to be over 100 in 2850

drakensis

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Re: Davion & Davion (Deceased)
« Reply #426 on: 21 April 2018, 06:59:15 »
Boeing Megaplex, Galax
Crucis March, Federated Suns
9 January 2780

The Tancredi was only half-manned as she lay docked in the huge orbital yards. Minor repairs and upgrades would keep the fleet carrier in place for three weeks, providing an opportunity for the crew to spend time on a planetary surface. Granted the surface of Galax was no prize – it was only in the last few decades that the atmosphere had been deemed breathable – but given the lengthy deployments of war, anything was better than nothing.

Admiral Kenneth Jones was along those still aboard the ship. Technically there was no need for the admiral or his staff to participate in the dock-side staffing since they weren’t responsible for any of the Tancredi’s systems but Jones had coordinated with Commodore Mason, promoted to replace Mary Kaga, to have the staff cover various slots in one or the other of the two half-crews assigned to maintain some capabilities while their colleagues were away. It would be bad for morale for the flag staff to have more leave time than the ship’s own crew and it would let them keep their hands in on ordinary warship actions.

In keeping with this principle, Jones was on the navigational bridge covering the command slots while Mason – whose family actually lived on Galax – visited them. “Strange to see them with FSN markings,” he noted, looking at the next dock over, which was visible from the broad armoured windows of the compartment.

Commodore Edward Brookes, his exec from back on the Markesan, leant over and followed his gaze to where a pair of Samarkand-class carriers were being repainted. While the real work – refitting the electronics to FSN standards – was being taken care of inside the ships, the new paintwork would be a last resort for reminding aerospace pilots that the Combine-built carriers were now in the service of the Suns. “To be honest I doubt you’ll see them again in the near future,” he observed. “They’re destined for patrol routes in the outworlds sectors – keeping the peace in the rear areas.”

“I’d rather have them doing that than serving the Combine, at least.” Jones was about to comment on the sections of the hulls opened up to remove the obsolete point-defence miniguns and replace them with the same kind of anti-missile systems used by the Tancredi and her sister-ships but he was interrupted when the communications officer almost fell out of her chair.

“Sir!” the young woman exclaimed. “Signal from Megaplex Defense Command. LaGrange Alpha has unscheduled transits. Alert status two.” Which meant an attack was believed to be imminent.

“Confirmed,” the admiral said, forcing himself to remain calm for the sake of the crew. He crossed the bridge to the command console. “Alert status two, have all flight crews report to their stations and get our fighters ready to launch.”

The Megaplex orbited Galax in one of the five LaGrange points where the gravitational effects of the planet and its moon, Malabar, more or less cancelled out. Only one of them, LaGrange Alpha (located between the planet and moon) was suitable for use as a jump point, but once there it wouldn’t take long at all for a warship squadron to be able to threaten either the planet or the orbital infrastructure around it.

“Sorry to cut my visit short,” Brookes noted and with no further apology he headed for the door.

Jones nodded absently. After a tour commanding the Markesan, his old friend was now in command of part of the defences around Galax. He needed to get back to his own command post aboard the orbital stations that shared the LaGrange point with the Megaplex.

Reports filtered in both from other parts of the planetary system and from the Tancredi’s own departments. Fortunately, a half-crew included enough pilots to man all nine of the aerospace fighter wings. The deck crews were undermanned though and it took precious time to fuel and arm the fighters.

Meanwhile the alert was proven as accurate. A single Soyal-class heavy cruiser jumped in first at LaGrange Alpha and proceeded to clear the weapon platforms around it before they could inflict serious damage. The small space stations simply didn’t have the firepower to damage a warship of that size without using nuclear weapons and the stations had been too far down the priority list to receive any. Satisfied with its work the Soyal moved clear and the follow-on wave arrived.

By this point Brookes had reached his post and signalled Jones again. “Eight escort-sized warships – we make it four Vincent-class and four Carracks.”

“Didn’t the Capellans use Carracks as carriers at Kathil?” the admiral asked. “It’s a long way from where I’ve been operating but I try to keep up to date.”

“They did. Assuming the same arrangements we could be looking at close to six hundred fighters from before them.”

“It’s not a great time for us to be immobile.” The Tancredi and her escorts were no more able to leave dock than the Samarkands. It would take at least a day at this point in the repairs to close the hull up and get them under thrust.

Brookes nodded on the screen. “Between your fighters, our own defence squadrons and two wings that are due for assignment to the Trondheim we can field almost four hundred fighters. We have a course for them coming around Maladar. We need you to escort our Piranhas in.”

Jones raised an eyebrow at that. “The new assault dropships?”

“We have nine squadrons of them – hopefully that’ll serve as an equaliser,” Brookes confirmed.

“Very well.” Jones nodded to his flight ops crew. “We’re commencing launch now.”

As fighters were hurled from the Tancredi into space – she was docked with her launch catapults aiming out into space for this very reason – the Piranhas launched from their parent stations. Jones studied them from the bridge. Small ships, less than a thousand tons he estimated. A hit from a warship’s heavy batteries would probably shatter any of them, but Vincent and Carrack-class ships weren’t heavily armed. And there were fifty-four of them, forming into squadrons of six as if they were larger aerospace fighters.

Soon the fighters formed up on them and drives opened up, accelerating the defensive force around Malabar towards the oncoming storm. “We’ll need a second line,” he told Brookes.

The other officer nodded. “I’ve convinced the dock yard authorities that you’re cleared to fire your anti-fighter weapons. Please don’t use capital weapons though – if you fire from where you are we might as well just let the Capellans nuke us.”

“And your own weapon platforms?”

“They’re all reporting ready.” Brooks shrugged helplessly. “Armed shuttles are launching but they’re not exactly gunships.”

Jones nodded. Centuries ago, before the aerospace fighter, cumbersome armed shuttles had been the only weapon for contesting space around starships. Once aerospace fighters became available they’d shrunk to niche roles, unable to compete against the deadlier high-performance combatants.

Tens of thousands of kilometres away the Capellans fighters were launching to defend themselves from the incoming strike. They’d held back to spare their fuel but it was clear that the Carracks were indeed carriers and the Vincents were moving to screen them.

Six fighters screamed into the Capellan formation, brave men in older Centurions making a fast pass to gather data. Two fell prey to Capellan interceptors, then they were within sight of the warships… and then three were blotted out of space as the Vincents lit up the sky. Only one fighter made it past, angling for a long and slow deceleration towards Galax – the pilot didn’t have the fuel to make it back into the battle but he’d gathered the vital information: the Vincents had been fitted with improved anti-fighter turrets.

“Outnumbered and now they’ve built decent escorts,” Jones noted. “This is entirely too much like a fair fight.”

Brookes rubbed his chin. “Then it’s time to up our game. I’m putting the Piranhas on point.”

The little dropships had been making only 24.5m/s2 of acceleration, none of the Federated Suns force was pushing too hard while they waited for the first intelligence report. Now they went to maximum power and pushed past forty. Heavier aerospace fighters couldn’t keep up and wings of them began to form a reserve line, preparing to engage any fighters that got past the faster squadrons.

It didn’t seem that the Capellans knew what to make of the attack. Their fighters shifted patterns as if to intercept and then again, reforming with heavy aerospace fighters taking point.

“They must think they’re anti-fighter platforms,” Brookes concluded. “They don’t want to engage with lighter fighters in case they’re being sucked into a trap.”

“Are they?”

“No.”

An entire wing of Centurions fired off their Alamos into the heavy fighters. Only four hit – vaporising the Transgressors they hit – but in evading the missiles and then the explosions of the missiles’ warheads - which detonated whether they struck home or not - the Capellans had opened a hole and more FSN fighters opened fire, holding it open.

It wasn’t enough to keep the Piranhas alive, not all of them. Thirty-nine broke past the fighters and into weapons range of the Vincents’ naval autocannon. Four more died in the first salvo.

“What are the crew on them?” asked Jones softly. A third of the dropships were dead already.

Brookes smiled coldly. “They don’t have crews,” he answered.

The battlespace on the tactical display was lit up with blazes of fire as the thirty-five surviving Piranhas retaliated. They were outside of the range of fighter-launched missiles but their internal tubes were clearly firing much more substantial weapons – three of the Vincents blew apart as warheads penetrated their hulls and went off. The fourth spun helplessly, manoeuvring controls clearly lost, as the Piranhas closed on the Carracks and every Capellan fighter turned to try to eliminate the unexpectedly deadly dropships before the carriers could be destroyed.

Seeing the opportunity, the outnumbered Federated Suns fighters lunged in and the Capellans, caught in the fork of two undesirable outcomes were forced to split their efforts and do little to avert either.

Numbers of fighters dropped rapidly as the dogfight spread out, sapping the numbers available to go after the Piranhas. They still killed them – thirty-five became twenty-seven before the next missiles were launched and eighteen before the next salvo – but not in time and those missiles could engage fighters as easily as they could warships.

The Carracks died in an orgy of nuclear fire and fighters burned with them.

“You built drones and armed them with nukes?” Jones’ voice sounded far steadier to him than he expected. “That seems… risky.”

Brookes shrugged. “They’re under tighter control than those you faced, sir.” He looked aside. “And honestly, not as capable. We just lost the last of them.”

On the display the morass of fighters was dwindling before their eyes. Jones looked over to the communications officer. “Put me on general broadcast.” He looked back at his former exec. “If you don’t mind, I’d rather try to save my fighter pilots more losses.”

“Go right ahead.”

Jones adjusted the microphone. “All Capellan pilots, this is Admiral Kenneth Jones of the Federated Suns Navy. We’ve destroyed your carriers and most of you have expended too much fuel to make it back to the jump point except on slow unpowered courses that would leave you easy prey. You’ve fought bravely, but you’ve lost the battle. I offer you fair treatment according to the Ares Conventions to any pilot who surrenders themselves.”

There was a long pause with fighter squadrons pulling away from each other and regrouping, Jones guessing that his offer had sparked one of those natural lulls that can form, and then the communications officer adjusted a control and a voice came from the loudspeakers. “This is Major Tom Lomas. We still have the numerical advantage and why should we trust the Butcher of Royal?”

“Numbers aren’t everything, Major. Our pilots can return here to refuel and rearm – where do you expect to get new missiles from? And as for my own reputation, when I say there will be no quarter I mean exactly that – and when I offer it my word is just as true. It’s up to you: do your pilots live or do they die.”

There was a long pause and then Lomas spoke again. “All pilots, safe your weapons. He’s not wrong… and as Lord Baltazar is a prisoner there’s no shame in us sharing his status.”

.o0O0o.

Avalon City, New Avalon
Crucis March, Federated Suns
12 January 2780

“So much for another squadron of Capellan warships,” John told his son.

Joshua nodded absently, mind evidently elsewhere.

The First Prince shook his head, amusement warring with sympathy. He didn’t really have to brief Joshua on the Battle of Galax, but he’d hoped that it would be an effective distraction. The captain of the last Capellan warship, CCS Korvix, had been more willing to take on suicidal odds than Major Lomas but the arrival of FSS Hotspur and FSS Europa had pitted the heavy cruiser against two smaller but more agile warships that could work avoid the dangerous forward firing arcs and pick him apart. The Korvix wouldn’t have reached the Megaplex anyway, but the arrival of FSS Joan Brandt right behind her escorts had sealed the deal.

“I don’t think I was this bad when my children were born,” Hanse said clinically. “On the other hand, I was five hundred light years away when Victor was born so I didn’t actually hear about him until after the fact. Perhaps that makes it easier.”
 
“Joshua, are you listening?” John asked gently.

“Sure.”

“I just told you the ghost of your great-great-great-great-grandson was going to watch over Mary and would let us know if something went wrong,” he lied. “Normally I’d expect to be called on telling you something like that.”

Hanse took the hint and left the room.

His son’s brow furrowed. “You did?” He looked at John and then shook his head. “No, you didn’t.”

“Well I’m glad some of your faculties haven’t fled.”

“Are you surprised I’m distracted?” Joshua jerked his head in the direction of the palace medical wing. “I should be in there.”

“I’m not surprised and I’m sure you want to be, but what Mary needs is your quiet support,” his father told him. “I pulled you out because you were babbling questions at the doctors to the point you were getting in the way.”

Joshua flushed. “It didn’t seem like it was going properly.”

“Are you a doctor now? Contrary to what the media show, it’s not a quick process. It’s dramatically convenient to show a few contractions and then a baby but in reality it takes hours.”

“Was it like this for you?”

“I fully intended to be in the delivery room but your mother and mine thought I’d probably cause a scene so they conspired with Uncle Richard and he sent me to Argyle with Joseph. Of course, then you decided to be a bit stubborn and I was on my way back before she went into labour. I made it here about thirty minutes after you were born.”

His son shook his head. “The things one learns about one’s parents. Was that why I’m an only child?”

“Not so much. We’d considered having more children but with two wars over rival royal claims still in recent memory, we were conscious of how dangerous fratricidal power struggles can be within a royal house. After Joseph died and I became heir we decided it was better not to provide you with siblings.”

“Seems stupid to me, what about securing the succession? Uncle Joseph’s accident shows what can happen?”

John nodded. “Perhaps, but we have cousins far enough away not to feel entitled and at the time it seemed hopeful that we were past the worst stretch – Jonathon Cameron’s death put the Star League back in sane hands. If Simon Cameron had lived longer…” He made a tipping gesture with his hands. “It was a damned shame.”

“Do you think it was Amaris assassinating him?”

“In hindsight? Probably, but it’s unlikely we’ll ever know for sure. He might well have been planning that far ahead.”

The door to the waiting room opened to admit Edwina. “Have you got your wits together, Joshua?” she asked.

He flushed. “Sorry, mother.”

“If you think you can hold it together I believe Mary would appreciate your support,” Edwina told him. “Just remember your job is to hold her hand and be soothing, not to bother the doctors.”

Joshua bolted to the door and his parents waited until he was out of the room before looking each other in the eyes and breaking out laughing.

“Oh dear.” Edwina mopped at her eyes. “I shouldn’t laugh, but those poor doctors.”

John nodded. “Thinking back, it’s quite possible I wouldn’t have been any better. I take it all is well.”

“As hard as it might be for Joshua to believe, yes.”

Hanse stuck his head through the closed door. “Joshua’s back at Mary’s side and seems to have calmed down,” he reported cheerfully and withdrew.

Edwina glanced around the room and saw a tray with two empty glasses on the sideboard. “You gave him a drink?”

“We split a bottle of beer,” John told her. “Just enough to take the edge off his panic.”

She considered that and then took a seat. “That doesn’t sound like a bad idea. Is there another?”

“Not here but I’m sure the staff will be their usually efficient selves.”

Unsurprisingly, the answer was yes and they were quickly supplied with fresh glasses and two bottles of beer. “So that’s a bottle and a half of this for you?” Edwina asked John mildly as he took his first sip.

“It’s not particularly strong beer,” he observed and checked his watch. “Unless anything drastic happens in the next hour I was thinking we could have someone fetch sandwiches then and one of us should spell Joshua while he has something to eat.”

“Ah, thinking ahead.”

“I consulted with experts,” John told her. “I’m assured that as a grandparent my most important role right now is keeping the father in check.”

“Good advice.” Edwina lifted her own glass and sipped. When she set it down she gave him a serious look. “John, I asked you twenty years ago if you could keep Joshua out of the war with the Capellans.”

He nodded. “I remember. I couldn’t do that in the end.”

“No. So I’m not going to ask you for the same promise for this child. But what sort of life can our grandchild expect if this war goes on and on?”

“I won’t make you a promise I can’t keep, but I think it’s pretty close to the end now. Either the SLDF will break through and reach New Avalon this year or they’ll fail… and if they fail they don’t have any reserves left to try again.”

“It’s terrifying to think that. They seemed so strong, but now…” Edwina shook her head. “Some of those men and women have worked with you, haven’t they?”

“Some of them.” John leant back. “Seventh Army is the last of the ones that fought under my command. The rest are scattered around what’s left of the SLDF now or have taken service elsewhere.”

Hanse returned. “I think Joshua’s got it together,” he said. “They’re talking baby names to give Mary something to focus on. How do you feel about having a grand-daughter called Victoria?”
"It's national writing month, not national writing week and a half you jerk" - Consequences, 9th November 2018

drakensis

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Re: Davion & Davion (Deceased)
« Reply #427 on: 21 April 2018, 06:59:33 »
The Triad, Tharkad
Protectorate of Donegal, Lyran Commonwealth
2 February 2780

Jennifer Steiner checked herself in the mirror before entering the room. Satisfied that her clothes and make-up were immaculate, she opened the door and went to the seat that awaited her. It would be her first time representing the Lyran Commonwealth on the Star League Council, even if the meeting was a remote one.

Right on schedule three holograms sprang up in an arc in front of her desk. A fourth lagged only by a few seconds with Zabu Kurita joining the assembly. “Lady Steiner,” the young Coordinator greeted her mildly while his seniors were still looking her over.

She inclined her head slightly. “Lord Kurita.” He was very young, Jennifer thought. Intelligence reports hadn’t quite prepared her for that. It could mean that he wasn’t directly involved in the raids into Tamar and Skye, someone this young might have trouble imposing his will on his Warlords. On the other hand, perhaps his youth led him to authorise such operations without grasping the possible consequences.

“Is there any update on Robert’s health?” asked the Chancellor of the Capellan Confederation.

“He’s recovering well,” Jennifer informed them. “The doctors recommend a few months of rest before he resumes his duties, which he’s rather grudgingly agreed to.” Behind the jest was a troubling fact: her brother might grump about the enforced vacation but he was quick to tire now and had trouble focusing for more than an hour or two at a time. Unless that passed, her regency might have to last quite a bit longer.

Kenyon Marik shook his head. “Enough trivialities,” he said. “We should get on with business.”

“If you could indulge me on one question first, Captain-General.” Jennifer looked around the room to make it clear she wasn’t just asking Marik. “Why is it that we’re only meeting now and via HPG? I recall that before the Coup the Council met in person and that between our meetings representatives would be in almost permanent session, laying the groundwork for our debates. But none of that seems to have been reinstated since the Usurper was brought down.”

“We all have pressing affairs on our homeworlds,” Liao explained. “And the damage to Unity City had to be made good.”

“It’s been more than four years, Chancellor. And the city wasn’t fought for so the damage surely can’t have been that severe. Is it still in need of more repairs, Director-General?”

McEvedy shook his head. “Not that I’m aware. With the Bureau of Star League Affairs in disarray, the population is far less than it was but the SLDF and Ministry of Communication offices are operating. At most you might need to re-staff your residences there.”

“Alright, so we could go back there if we need to. Where are you going with this, Lady Steiner?” asked Kenyon testily. “We’ve managed to run the Star League with the current arrangement, why should we spend weeks in dropships just to say the same things face to face?”

“Respectfully, Lord Marik, I’m not convinced that the Star League is running well enough. As Lord McEvedy points out, the Bureau of Star League Affairs has been leaderless for years. Combined with the upswing in border raids and the economic problems we’re all facing, very little of the Star League appears to be operating at all, much less ‘well enough’.”

“And you think that getting us all in one room will improve matters?” asked Zabu mildly. “I don’t disagree on the issues we’re faced with, not at all, but your solution seems… less than convincing.”

“I would imagine that you’re well-versed in the matter of perceptions, Lord Kurita. One of the major factors in the economic issues is the lack of confidence in the Star League – after all, we’ve failed to restore many of the basic functions of the League over the last few years. I appreciate that the ongoing war hasn’t helped but we could do more and I feel that we should.”

“As you point out, there is a war going on,” Barbara Liao said, her face troubled. “It would be problematic for me to leave Sian while fighting is taking place on my border. Still, you are correct that our own presence isn’t necessarily the crux of the issue. Council advisors played an important role in shaping our decision-making but many of them died or fled when Amaris seized power.”

McEvedy leant forwards. “There would be no issue in my attending such a meeting, of course,” he offered. “And I believe that Lady Steiner makes a good point. Even if our own meetings continue to be by HPG, ongoing discussion of the various issues could be delegated to representatives in session between our meetings.”

“And such meetings would be on Terra?” Marik said with an air of disdain.

“That is the entire purpose of Unity City, Captain-General.” The Director-General spread his hands. “We all know that General Lucas will resume his advance on New Avalon soon. Once John Davion’s capital is in our hands we’ll have further issues to deal with in re-integrating it into the Star League. It seems a good time to lay the groundwork for that.”

Liao shook her head, the little decorations in her head-dress chiming like tiny bells. “I’m not convinced of the practical benefits.”

“I suppose it might help with morale,” the Coordinator mused. He leant forwards and rested his elbows on the table. “General Lucas’ soldiers would benefit… but I cannot attend such a gathering, not at this time with my realm invaded and my reign so new. Perhaps… I could send a representative, one of my family.”

Jennifer nodded. “That’s fair enough. I can attend personally, of course. Formally re-open Unity City as the centre of the Star League’s government.”

“And then?”

She turned to Kenyon Marik. “And then perhaps we can make a start on the economic problems we’re facing. We both know the sort of slump we’re facing. Even with Terran markets and factories becoming available once more the dollar continues to depreciate. Your problems are no better than mine – I don’t need spies to know the publicly available financial information of your realm.”

“And what do you suggest? That having our advisors talking to each other will magically solve everything? Perhaps you can bring the Camerons back as well?”

“Only a fool would say that it would be easy,” McEvedy observed. “And you are no fool, Lord Marik. But if we do not begin somewhere then nothing will ever be done. Even if only small progress is made then it would still be better than what we are all facing.”

“Hmm.” The Captain-General looked around the room grudgingly. “Very well. I will attend, although I warn you: my expectations are not high.”

The Chancellor nodded. “Like Lord Kurita I will send a representative, a member of House Liao. The war is coming towards a climax, after all. Perhaps we should make one further concession to public opinion.”

“What do you suggest?” asked McEvedy.

“Invite Lord Kerensky to attend,” she proposed. “After all this is merely a ceremonial occasion.”

“Why would we want him to attend?” spat Marik. “He’s an old man, let him rot in his backwater exile.”

“He is the last remaining symbol of the old days of the Star League,” Liao reminded him. “Such talismans have power. And if, as you say, nothing will come of this attempt, then let him carry the weight of it.”

“Steiner?”

Jennifer shrugged as Marik turned towards her. “My brother’s issues with the Protector are personal, Captain-General. I do not object to his presence on Terra. In fact, it may well be beneficial – in his absence many of the SLDF still look to DeChevilier and Davion as his successors. Let us make it clear that they have betrayed his legacy and it may weaken such sentiments.”

.o0O0o.

Nadir Jump Point, Non Diz
Sian Commonality, Capellan Confederation
7 March 2780

Right on the border between the Federated Suns and Capellan Confederation – and closer than was comfortable to the Taurian Concordat – Non Diz had been settled after the Reunification War. Due to its location, the Terran Hegemony had overseen a joint government between the two member-states whose space it hung between. Such governments were no longer feasible, of course, but it had been settled peacefully enough here – with so much of the SLDF in the area no one wanted to be provoke a reaction and John Davion had been content thirteen years ago to withdraw his own influence in exchange for reciprocal concessions over another shared world.

With access to what passed for public media within the Capellan Confederation, Weiss Plains thought the aftermath of that probably hadn’t been peaceful. She could read between the lines and the Capellan nationalism was a little too strident.

It wasn’t her problem though. If all went well, she’d be leaving soon.

“Admiral Plains?” A Capellan spacer entered the small mess-deck. There were guards at the entrance but this was the first Capellan to enter since Plains got here. This compartment and the sleeping compartments on this deck were Federated Suns territory, her behaviour and that of the other occupants regulated by parole rather than direct supervision. That hadn’t been the case before, but over the last few months kid gloves had become the order of the day for their captors.

Weiss stood up. “I’m Admiral Plains.”

The man saluted. “Ma’am, your transport will arrive soon. The captain requests that you and your people prepare to disembark.”

“Please inform the captain that we shall prepare to do so.” She waited until he had left and then turned to the other prisoners. “You heard the man. Go make sure you have your bags packed because if you leave anything behind then I, for one, am not coming back to fetch anything.”

There was a ripple of laughter and the soldiers and spacers headed for the doors to their sleeping compartments, forming an orderly queue as they filed out. Weiss followed them but rather than heading for her own compartment she briskly toured the deck, checking that those occupying each room were aware of the instruction.

In two cases where no one had been in the mess compartment and hadn’t had the news conveyed she informed them of the update and sent the prisoners bouncing around their quarters packing meagre possessions.

In the vast majority of cases, they had been captured with little more to their names than what they were wearing but the Capellans had provided fresh clothes in the form of garishly red-dyed jumpsuits and lightweight shoes. And as men and women will, smaller implements and keepsakes had accumulated. Weiss would be surprised if anyone needed more than a small backpack though – which was fortunate since that was all they had – one pack per prisoner, provided when they were informed they were being relocated from the detainment centres.

When she reached her own compartment, she found Commodore Baracus had everyone prepared. Since Weiss had been living out of her pack since embarking on the dropship it only took her a moment to make sure she wasn’t missing anything.

“Do you think this is it?” the large officer asked her, keeping his voice neutral.

“More than likely. Whatever has them on their best behaviour, they don’t seem to be playing games,” she assured him.

Only a few moments later the same spacer as before arrived at the door of her compartment. “Respects of the captain, Admiral. Please march your personnel to the main docking airlock.”

Weiss nodded. “Understood.” She looked around the room at those who’d shared it with her, mostly the senior officers among the prisoners. “Alright, we talked about this so go get your platoons ready. And remember, whatever happens we’re the Armed Forces of the Federated Suns, so maintain discipline and...”

“...never give them the satisfaction,” the officers chimed in, amusement on some faces.

They exited the room in a file, a mix of navy and army personnel representing units that had fought and bled along the Capellan border for the last three years. As Weiss followed them out and around the circular deck she saw they’d paired off as planned, one officer remaining at the door of each of the eleven other compartments while the other entered to chivvy along any prisoners not ready to go.

At the hatchway, the two guards snapped to attention and saluted as Weiss approached. She eyed them for a moment, having to raise a chin a touch given their height, and then returned their salutes. She got another salute a moment later as the dropship’s commander arrived and returned it just as crisply.

“We’ve cleared the passageways across the station,” the young man informed her. “You can lead your personnel directly across to the next dropping bay where the exchange will be processed. There are guards at all the exits from that route so if the signs aren’t clear on directions, you only need ask.”

Weiss nodded. “It’s an Olympus-class station I gather.”

“Ah, yes.” The question of ‘how she knew that’ was visible on his face but he didn’t ask.

“I’m familiar with the layout then.”

The commander made a concessionary gesture. “Please follow me to the airlock then.”

Baracus broke off at the door with three other officers to act as a rear-guard for the entire group and the first compartment emptied into the long single file of personnel who’d be following Weiss out of captivity. There were more than seven hundred of them aboard the dropship and Weiss knew that many other exchanges like this one must be taking place.

No one interfered as she led the file out to the dropship hatch, where the commander stopped, and then into the space station they were docked in. Like the dropship they were in zero gravity but there were plenty of hand-holds for them to use and she made quick progress up the docking arm and then along the eerily deserted transit route to the next arm, following the signs that had been placed.

There were more armed guards at the docking hatch to this dropship and they wore the familiar uniforms of Federated Suns Marines. Weiss felt moisture begin to form at the corner of her eyes as she saw them and blinked it away. They came to attention as she arrived. “Rear Admiral Plains and a detachment of seven hundred forty-six personnel,” she reported and saluted them. “I request permission to board.”

A major emerged from the hatch. “Permission granted, Admiral,” she responded warmly. “We’ll start disembarking our own passengers now, to make room for you.”

Another single file of men and women began to emerge from the hatch, wearing the plain grey sweaters and pants used by the AFFS military prison system. The man in the lead looked particularly out of place in the clothes and it took Weiss a moment to realise why: she’d seen his face dozens of times before in the media.

Lord Baltazar Liao, heir to the Chancellor of the Capellan Confederation, saluted Weiss briskly as he led his own column of prisoners back into Capellan territory.

I suppose I see why they’ve been so considerate of us, Weiss thought as she returned the salute and stepped through the airlock in the other direction, mind racing. How did we wind up with him in custody? I’ve got a lot to catch up on.
"It's national writing month, not national writing week and a half you jerk" - Consequences, 9th November 2018

mikecj

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Re: Davion & Davion (Deceased)
« Reply #428 on: 21 April 2018, 07:53:11 »
That's a good way to ensure good treatment for your POWs... grab the Heir.
There are no fish in my pond.
"First, one brief announcement. I just want to mention, for those who have asked, that absolutely nothing what so ever happened today in sector 83x9x12. I repeat, nothing happened. Please remain calm." Susan Ivanova
"Solve a man's problems with violence, help him for a day. Teach a man to solve his problems with violence, help him for a lifetime." - Belkar Bitterleaf
Romo Lampkin could have gotten Stefan Amaris off with a warning.

Daryk

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Re: Davion & Davion (Deceased)
« Reply #429 on: 21 April 2018, 09:03:55 »
Moisture in her eyes indeed!  :thumbsup:

SCC

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Re: Davion & Davion (Deceased)
« Reply #430 on: 21 April 2018, 15:42:30 »
I'm surprised about that prisoner exchange, with Baltazar in FS captivity the lines of succession for both the CC and DC aren't exactly clear, so a couple of major raids could finish off both nations.

alkemita

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Re: Davion & Davion (Deceased)
« Reply #431 on: 21 April 2018, 16:57:21 »
I'm surprised about that prisoner exchange, with Baltazar in FS captivity the lines of succession for both the CC and DC aren't exactly clear, so a couple of major raids could finish off both nations.

Those would be quite the "major" raids. You're talking about decapitation strikes that have to:

A) travel undetected to the heart of two interstellar empires

B) bring sufficient Naval and Aerospace power to fight their way through what would undoubtedly be the strongest air and space defences both states could put up, then, assuming you can do that;

C) land a force powerful enough to defeat the praetorian guards of said states as well as;

D) have unimpeachable evidence that your target is actually present, and somehow ferret out all their escape plans.

With the SLDF less than 4 jumps from New Avalon, I don't think the AFFS could put together a force to carry out even one of those operations

Daryk

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Re: Davion & Davion (Deceased)
« Reply #432 on: 21 April 2018, 17:24:24 »
As I recall, the original outline had the council finally making peace with the FS sometime after Jennifer Steiner came to power...

idea weenie

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Re: Davion & Davion (Deceased)
« Reply #433 on: 21 April 2018, 17:53:38 »
I'm glad Marik didn't try to use SAFE and kill Baltazar Liao, framing the FedSuns for the murder

Edit:
The other idea would be Davion sending a back channel message to the Taurians, asking if they could provide aid to the Magistracy in their time of troubles.  Davion can claim that he is currently at war, and is diverting forces from the Taurian front because he needs them.  Since the Davion forces aren't on the Taurian border, the Taurians are free to divert some of their forces to aid the Magistracy.

For Davion, this is a win-win-win.  If the Taurians send forces to help the Magistracy, Davion has forces that can be used to slow down the SLDF (if they were former SLDF, they will free up forces that weren't), and could actually withdraw more since he knows the Taurian forces are not present.  If the Taurians decide to attack the FedSuns instead, Davion can send a copy of that message to the Magistracy and let them know that the Taurians were not only refusing to help them in their time of trouble, but are also acting as rabid animals.  If the Taurians do nothing, Davion has blackmail material that he can use later.
« Last Edit: 21 April 2018, 22:06:23 by idea weenie »

qc mech3

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Re: Davion & Davion (Deceased)
« Reply #434 on: 21 April 2018, 19:00:42 »
With the DC stuck in a civil war and unable to continue their advance, the FS is (relatively) free on one front. The only way to put a brake on the attacking SLDF was to get a cease-fire from the CC front to regroup the defense.

I could see the FS break the SLDF and regain the lost province for a somewhat stable frontier with the TH, give back Tikonov and the other annexed systems to hammer the antebellum frontier with the CC in a peace treaty but keep Chesterton and the other systems that Liao wine about all the time :p.


snakespinner

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Re: Davion & Davion (Deceased)
« Reply #435 on: 21 April 2018, 19:29:23 »
Did the CCS Korvix surrender.
I don't think the FS will willingly give up Tikonov, too great a prize.
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qc mech3

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Re: Davion & Davion (Deceased)
« Reply #436 on: 21 April 2018, 21:09:17 »
It's also difficult to keep against the full CCAF. Just loot tooling and blueprints before lift-off. You get some years of respite from it and keep your supplies for more important stuff.

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Re: Davion & Davion (Deceased)
« Reply #437 on: 21 April 2018, 22:57:14 »
Ah, finally!  I like this idea; the Piranhas aren't incredible weapons, just barely adequate and used to save the lives of pilots that might otherwise be sacrificed.  Something that was overlooked in the Jihad.
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Daryk

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Re: Davion & Davion (Deceased)
« Reply #438 on: 21 April 2018, 23:02:41 »
Piranha is a good name for them... I just hope they're not too expensive, given the loss rate in the battle of Galax...

Zureal

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Re: Davion & Davion (Deceased)
« Reply #439 on: 22 April 2018, 00:00:13 »
Piranha is a good name for them... I just hope they're not too expensive, given the loss rate in the battle of Galax...

they really need to make drone fighters  to, they would be a godsend for defensive operations and free up tons of pilots. I am sure it is a bit harder to get the AI right for it but i am sure it is fesable for the fedsuns to do so.

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Re: Davion & Davion (Deceased)
« Reply #440 on: 22 April 2018, 02:16:57 »
Ah, finally!  I like this idea; the Piranhas aren't incredible weapons, just barely adequate and used to save the lives of pilots that might otherwise be sacrificed.  Something that was overlooked in the Jihad.


Piranha is a good name for them... I just hope they're not too expensive, given the loss rate in the battle of Galax...


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drakensis

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Re: Davion & Davion (Deceased)
« Reply #441 on: 22 April 2018, 06:51:22 »
Unity City, Terra
Alliance Core, Terran Hegemony
29 March 2780

“Duke Mattlov!”

Daniel Mattlov made a face as he heard the unwelcome voice. He’d hoped his presence here could remain discreet – a quiet chat with his counterparts in the Capellan and Draconian delegations to compare notes on their efforts to duplicate Federated Suns carrier doctrine. No such luck.

Turning he saw the Captain-General of the Free Worlds League bearing down on him and bowed slightly. “Lord Marik.”

Kenyon Marik came to a halt facing him. “What is this I hear about you stopping my dropships?”

“Have we?” he asked, thinking back. “I understood your ship landed under diplomatic credentials, I hadn’t heard you had difficulties.”

“Not my ship, you…r grace.” Marik had plainly bitten back something offensive. “The staff and supplies for my residence.”

“Weren’t they aboard your dropship?”

The Captain-General shook his head angrily. “Don’t be obtuse. Four dropships of servants and furnishings are being held for inspection in high orbit by your navy.”

“Ah, of course. Your credentials cover a single dropship.” Mattlov shrugged. “Well we do have to carry out security inspections of inbound traffic, particularly for anything that’s going to be landing on this part of the globe. I’m sure your ships will be cleared for landing quickly.”

“I want them cleared immediately! How dare you suggest that my personal effects be inspected in this way?”

Why the Captain-General thought four – five including his own - dropships constituted personal effects escaped Mattlov. “I’ll see if there’s a hold up but only the dropship you were on was covered for priority to bypass inspection. Every other dropship gets examined.” He glanced over Marik’s shoulder in the direction of the Council Chambers. “Don’t you have somewhere else to be?”

“The Council Lords won’t gather for some time,” Marik said dismissively. “And lesser attendants all know who I am. Why would I stand in a reception line?”

And it probably has nothing to do with avoiding Lord Kerensky, thought Mattlov. I might have been busted down a rank twice but at least I was never cashiered. “It must be -”

He was cut off by the shrill of an alarm siren.

“What the devil?” Marik exclaimed. “What now? This is turning into a circ-”

He was cut off by Mattlov grabbing him by the shoulder. “That was the chemical alert!” he snarled. “This way.” The fine architecture of Unity City hid some very functional equipment and they were less than a hundred yards from a shelter. The two men barrelled through the thin crowd of late arrivals and through the door before panic had time to take hold on those around them.

Marik slammed and sealed the door behind him. “Chemicals?” he spat. “So much for your security.”

The duke ignored him, powering up the shelter’s communications panel. “Central security, this is Crasher-One. The chemical alarm went off in the Court complex. I’m in Shelter Fourteen with Hawk-One.”

The voice that replied was tense. “Confirmed, Crasher-One. Chemical sensors are picking up atmospheric toxins in four sectors. This is a Class III incident. Do you know how to check your air?”

Class III indicated potentially lethal agents had been released, Mattlov thought. He saw Marik pale at the designation. “It’s been a while but I recall the drill.” Turning he used his watch’s inbuilt magnetic coding to spring the door of the safety cabinet. A portable sensor wand was clipped to the inside of the door and he swept it up and down himself, then did the same for the suddenly silent Captain-General. Studying the results, the naval minister walked back to the door and swept around the edges, checking the seal.

“It looks as if we’re going to live,” he reported after considering the results.

Marik exhaled sharply. “That fool Steiner,” he hissed.

“The Archon-Regent?”

“It was her damned idea to get us all in a room together. We just gave Davion’s damn assassins a perfect target. He has all those SLDF chemical weapons his people stole on Helm.”

“It’s a little early to say definitively who’s behind this.” Mattlov went back to the communications panel.

Marik laughed bitterly. “Who else could it be?”

“I’m sure the conspiracy theorists will point at the two of us,” he grunted, “Media will jump on the fact neither of us was in the main hall as soon as that comes out.”

“That’s outrageous!”

”True though. I doubt we’ll get a confession from whoever it is and you know how the gutter press are.” Opening the microphone, he reported their status. “Can you tell us how bad it is?”

“We’re still moving people in with protective gear, sir.” The woman’s voice had steadied a little. “The main hall has been hit hard.”

Daniel Mattlov paled. “The Director-General?”

“Sir I cannot comment on -”

“Check your authorisations,” he snapped. “Crasher-One. I’m ****** Naval Minister now tell me if the boss is in this?”

A new voice spoke up. “I’ve got this. Minister Mattlov, the Director-General’s security got him to a shelter but he’s confirmed as exposed.”

Mattlov’s fist hit the wall. “Damn, damn, damn!”

“Sir?”

“Right, my fault for asking the question.” He shook his head. “Who else made it out?”

“Lord Liao is also in a shelter sir, but his status is not confirmed. The Kerensky, Steiner and Kurita delegations appear to have taken the initial brunt.”

Marik pushed closer. “How bad?”

“Sir?”

“This is Council Lord Kenyon Marik. How bad is this toxin?”

Mattlov gave the other man a grim look. “Class III means that if they’re still in that room there’s a better than average chance that half the Council are dead, Marik. Now shut up and let these people work.”

“Of course, of course.” Marik backed away, face conflicted. “I was merely… concerned.”

“I assume we’re going to be staying here until decontamination is done?” he asked the security centre.

“Yes sir. That will be a few hours. We have to prioritise getting into the hall and coping with those exposed.”

“I understand.” Mattlov glanced back at where Marik had unfolded one of the room’s bunks and was sat on it, face blank. Well if he keeps his mouth shut then maybe there won’t be a murder before we get out of here.

Dammit, James. Don’t be dead. I don’t want to have to tell your daughter that you’re not coming home to her.

.o0O0o.

Fort Bourgogne, Marlette
Crucis March, Federated Suns
31 March 2780

Since the fortress had been in AFFS hands for years, it was no surprise to the SLDF that complete schematics were in the hands of their opponents, but there had been no time or resources to significantly change the defences. Nor did they have any particular reason to improve the defences of passages too small for anything but dismounted infantry – emplaced lasers and machineguns were surely sufficient.

And the truth was that even the vaunted Nighthawks would have probably had trouble, Alexandra Davion thought. Four of her men had taken enough beating that they’d had to stop advancing and let the rest of the battalion bypass them, their Jacks battered to the point of impaired mobility and in two cases they’d need to be medevac’d when the opportunity arose.

But in exchange her battalion was deep inside Fort Bourgogne and they’d managed it in minutes, the garrison hopefully distracted by the more obvious force landing around the main entrances.

Up ahead another reinforced door blew open under shaped charges and this was the big one, the one that mattered. Alexandra rose to her feet, seeing tracer fire emerge from the opening. “On the bounce!” she shouted and she was the third one through.

The hole the engineers had made was large enough for two men to use abreast, or a single Jack. The first man through – Blescoe, she thought, wife and two kids back on Kestrel – crashed through and then to the floor. Whether it was the lasers or the grenades that dropped him didn’t matter but he bought Allard, the next in line, time to get out and bring his machinegun to bear. The young corporal, also from Kestrel, made it two steps past the breach before he fell with a scream but the defensive fire was split now as Alexandra entered behind him and Allard’s brief burst had forced the enemy to go to ground behind what little cover there was.

Had the next man in line been unarmoured, firing her jump jets would have maimed him but in Jacks that simply wasn’t a concern – Alexandra clenched as she rocketed across the open space and into a squad of infantry trying to get their Mausers back in line with the breach. When almost a ton of metal and Davion hit the squad leader at high speed he went tumbling, lucky not to have been caught between her at the wall.

Flickers of amber on her systems display showed Alexandra where she was taking damage from the lasers but with SLDF troops around her no one was using grenades. She used the barrel of her machinegun to batter down another soldier and then opened fire into the exposed flank of the next squad.

Machinegun fire ripped into the men around her, several rounds hitting her own armour without effect, as more of the battalion broke through to join her. By the time there were six of them out and fighting the platoon that was holding the position had effectively been over-run.

Alexandra looked around, ignoring the sobs and screams of the wounded soldiers for a moment. One of the primary access tunnels – excellent. “Conway, how’s Allard?”

“Leg hit, he’ll live but he’s not mobile.”

“Could be worse then,” she said. “No hope for Blescoe.”

“Sorry, sir.”

“There’s no such thing as a bloodless war, more’s the pity. Allard, get back inside the passage and hold it until relieved.”

“R-roger, sir,” the corporal gasped as two of his comrades helped him up. He wouldn’t be able to obey that order yet, there was a full battalion to get through the breach and more than two hundred Jacks took time to filter through one at a time.

The tunnel floor didn’t shake but her sensors picked up a vibration and translated it into data. Shit. “Incoming ‘Mechs!” Alexandra snapped, her voice lost in a dozen others coming to the same conclusion. “Able Company with me,” she ordered. They’d taken point and all the losses so far but they were also almost entirely through into the tunnel by now.

With a flare of jump jets she started to bound in the direction of the approaching BattleMechs. If they could concentrate their firepower then ‘Mechs could shred anyone coming through the doorway fast enough to jam the entire operation up. Able Company were right on Alexandra’s heels, a few squads pushing themselves to overtake her.

The ‘Mechs burst into view, stubby rounded shapes with vestigial arms made up entirely of weapons – UrbanMechs, Alexandra identified. Most MechWarriors considered them a laughable threat – too small and too slow for use on a modern battlefield, but they were excellent for fighting in cramped quarters like this.

There was nothing wrong with their pilots’ reflexes either. It was doubtful that any of the MechWarriors realised what they were facing but three of them opened up with their autocannon and two Jacks were torn apart by large calibre shells. The rest scattered, bouncing on their jump jets to make themselves difficult targets as they closed in.

Alexandra was uncomfortably aware that the ‘Mechs had what might be called a target-rich environment – seventy-odd Jacks in a tunnel only sixty metres wide. But that also meant that they had two hundred machineguns firing back as soon as they closed the range.

Eight more Jacks were hit, their occupants shredded, before they reached the point of returning fire but then the battle descended into a wild melee with the UrbanMechs trying to form a tight ring, covering their backs against the vengeful infantry.

It wasn’t enough, the Jacks were too small and too agile. At point blank ranges, machineguns ripped into armour plating with abandon. Two of the UrbanMechs fell as the Jacks swarmed over them, armoured gloves finding weak points around the knees and damaging the actuators that controlled the ‘Mech’s lower limbs.

“Go for the back of the right shoulder!” Sam shouted. The trooper had clamped herself to the autocannon of one UrbanMech and was firing her machinegun over the weapon into the domed upper hull of the UrbanMech.

Alexandra joined Sam’s squad in firing at the designated panels. The result was a brutal explosion that tore the autocannon and Sam away from the rest of the ‘Mech. The reactor scrammed and panels atop the ‘Mech burst away as automatic systems ejected the MechWarrior upwards – but in the low-ceilinged tunnel the ejection seat smashed its occupant against metal and stone.

In the whirlwind of combat, Alexandra saw a Jack go flying as another UrbanMech lashed out with a clumsy kick that connected. Firing her jump jets, Alexandra vaulted up onto the ‘Mech’s forward hull where the weapons couldn’t bear. Bracing herself against the cockpit glass she fired up the cutting torch in her left vambrace and began to carve away at the armour glass.

She could see the MechWarrior inside, eyes wide behind the mask of her neurohelmet. With sudden resolve, the woman pushed her controls and the UrbanMech rushed forwards. The compressed 360-degree display inside Alexandra’s helmet showed her the wall of the tunnel rushing towards her.

At the last moment she loosened her grip and dropped down to roll between the UrbanMech’s legs. Thirty tons of BattleMech hit the wall, doing no great amount of damage to either, but it seemed to stun the MechWarrior and then most of a platoon descended on the UrbanMech, tearing into its joints.

Scrambling back to her feet, Alexandra looked around. Several Jacks were on the floor, some struggling to rise while others evidently never would. Able’s losses were at least two men for every ‘Mech they’d taken down but they’d taken out the entire company of ‘Mechs in moments.

“Bravo, Charlie,” she ordered on the battalion command channel. “I need you on point for the next step on the operation.”

At least they had more room to work with now, she thought as the two company commanders confirmed they were on their way – Bravo was entirely through the breach now and Charlie was only a few moments behind them.

“It’s only a matter of time until more of the defenders are cut loose to come after us,” she reminded them. “The command centre’s less than a kilometre away from our current location.”

“Do you think we might catch General Lucas himself?” asked Sam as she regrouped her squad.

Alexandra couldn’t shrug inside her armour. “If he’s dumb enough to try to fort up, maybe. But no one promised he’d be dumb.”

.o0O0o.

Imperial City, Luthien
Pesht District, Draconis Combine
1 April 2780

The messenger knelt before Zabu’s throne. “My lord, the reports from Terra have been confirmed. It grieves me to report that your cousin Thomas lies dead after the cowardly attack upon the Court of the Star League.”

The young Coordinator lowered his head slightly. “First Drago and now Thomas. Terra seems unhealthy for the Dragon’s kin,” he mused.

At his side, Warlord Fujiwara clenched his fists. “McEvedy must have lowered his guard. This is unforgiveable.” There was less energy to his words than there might have been.

“Our initial reports indicated that McEvedy himself has fallen to the attack,” Zabu noted. “If so then he has paid in full for his security’s failure.”

“Of course, Lord Kurita.”

“At the time our source reported, my lord, McEvedy lived,” the messenger advised cautiously. “It is understood that his life hangs in the balance. Leadership of the Hegemony has fallen to the Duke of Caph during the Director-General’s incapacity.”

Zabu steepled his fingers. “Tell me then, who else among the great lords has fallen?”

“Besides your cousin, both Protector Kerensky and Archon-Regent Steiner are confirmed as dead. Barnabas Liao, representing his mother, took a lighter dose but sources suggest he will recover with some impairment.”

“Ah.” The young lord grunted in acknowledgement and then made a dismissive gesture. “I will read the fuller report later.”

“Hai!” The messenger rose smoothly and bowed sharply before backing out of the room.

“Kerensky dead.” Zabu rubbed his chin. “That is interesting.”

“I regret that I do not follow your thoughts, lord.”

The younger man rose to his feet and turned his back on the hall, instead studying the intricately bejewelled map of the Combine that rose up behind his throne. “Davion’s agents rarely use gas. According to the ISF it is considered to be too indiscriminate. It offends their pride to consider themselves less than precise.”

“An understandable conceit. And yet, if Lord Thomas was a target…?”

“Quite,” Zabu agreed. “In revenge for Robinson they might stray from that pattern. But to do so where Aleksandr Kerensky was a target? That seems unlikely. If Davion himself ordered this then he may have profound regrets now.”

“And if he did not?” the warlord frowned. “Who else might be responsible? The periphery states would have motivation.”

“I can construe motivation for almost any faction,” murmured Zabu. “Robert Steiner and Kenyon Marik would benefit most and since the Steiner delegation was nearest to the centre of the attack it may be that this was masterminded by Loki.”

The shaven-headed MechWarrior frowned. “Neither was fond of Kerensky,” he conceded. “And Lord Marik had somehow found an excuse to be elsewhere… Steiner’s Lyran Intelligence Corps I would have thought to target him were they involved.”

“Possibly yes. But for Robert Steiner this removes his sister, who occupied his seat and might have been reluctant to step down for him, and also one of House Kurita’s leaders alongside Kerensky. Kenyon Marik has no particular cause to include my cousin in his targets, in fact a strong House Kurita threatens his own foes.”

“I see the direction of your thoughts.” Fujiwara dipped his head. “Should we seek to avenge this then?”

Zabu shook his head. “Not directly. It is preferable for us that Davion take the blame and restoring a weak Robert Steiner to control of the Commonwealth serves us well. My cousin’s death will be repaid later. Perhaps lady Jennifer’s twin can be sent to console her in the next life, depriving Robert of his most trusted general.”

The Warlord bowed deeply. “The Coordinator’s will be done.”

Returning to his throne, the head of House Kurita considered the unfolding politics of the Inner Sphere. “I will announce four days of grieving. In that time, the HPG stations are to fall silent in tribute to my cousin’s fate. By the time they resume transmission, you are to ensure that they are fully under our control.”

Fujiwara hesitated. “Then the time has come then?”

“Davion was right after all, the Star League is dead.” His lips curled. “And we are not eta to tie ourselves to a rotten corpse. Whether Lucas triumphs or not, the SLDF and the AFFS will weaken each other in the next few weeks to the point that no one will seriously challenge us.”

The older man dropped to his knees. “Truly, you have the wisdom of your ancestors.” He stood again, not with the crispness of youth, and obediently made his exit.

Zabu waited for a few moments and then murmured. “My congratulations.”

An unassuming man emerged from the shadows of drapes that flanked the dais. “It is our pleasure to serve, Lord Kurita.”

“I trust that the agent responsible has been suitably rewarded?”

“A suitable reason has been prepared to grant honours to his family for his selfless duty,” the spymaster assured him.

He received a nod. “To reward service is the duty of a lord. I regret we cannot openly acknowledge his deed.” Zabu leant back in his chair. “The four days of grieving will mean more work for you.”

“Ah?”

“Consider it a window to purge the spy networks that you have identified without word going from world to world to alert them that our patience with them has been exceeded. So far as is possible, I would blind the eyes of others within the Combine.”

The man folded his hands before him. “I crave permission to remind the lord Kurita that once this is done it is likely that our own sources of information will suffer.”

“I accept that price. A ship that sinks often drags its crew down into the deeps with it. I would not have the Dragon brought down as the Star League sinks.”

“As you will, lord Kurita.” He hesitated and touched an ear piece. “Your pardon…”

Zabu arched an eyebrow and waited patiently.

The man straightened. “Lord, we have a new report from the Federated Suns. The SLDF has come under attack at Manteno, Bristol and Marlette – two of the primary staging grounds for their operations and General Lucas’ headquarters.”

“Davion has moved first then.” The Coordinator considered that fact and then shrugged. “Who would have thought, five years ago,” he asked rhetorically, a wry smile creasing his face, “That he of all men would be the doom of the Star League?”
"It's national writing month, not national writing week and a half you jerk" - Consequences, 9th November 2018

drakensis

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Re: Davion & Davion (Deceased)
« Reply #442 on: 22 April 2018, 06:52:01 »
Fort Bourgogne, Marlette
Crucis March, Federated Suns
1 April 2780

If he’d had the time then Jack Lucas would have much preferred to be in a BattleMech right now. Unfortunately, the sudden penetration of the fortress by infantry in powered armour – and when had Davion managed to obtain that? – had barely left time for his staff to scramble into four Maultier APCs and evacuate.

The hovercraft were far too fast for the infantry to catch up, but as they roared at over a hundred kilometres an hour through the winding tunnels dug into Marlette’s crust, the general was isolated from events. Although they’d been slipping out of his control anyway, he acknowledged bitterly.

“Sir.” Major Mundy passed him a commset. “It’s Colonel Hazen.”

Lucas pressed one headset to his ear, not bothering to secure it properly. “Colonel, I’m glad you managed to get away.” Hazen had been on her way back to the command centre from the air defence station’s own separate command network when the attack developed.

“I’m not unused to having to move quietly,” she replied grimly. “Sir, the Delta and Golf entrances are compromised, we have to assume the fort will fall.”

“More of that powered armour?”

“Yes sir. They’re a formidable force multiplier in this sort of operation.”

Lucas nodded and then rested his head against the side of the troop compartment. “We could have used them in… more battles than I care to think about. What’s your situation, Colonel?”

“I’ve scraped up a scratch lance of ‘Mechs – used my codes to unlock the security on some of the replacements hangered in Sector Seven. If the lift-shaft is working then we can get to Beta entrance and the drop port there.”

The day before a reinforced infantry division had been defending Fort Bourgogne, the Twenty-Eighth Infantry. Just writing off the two entrances reported as compromised would cut that sharply that and most likely Echo and Foxtrot would be gone as well. That would mean half the garrison cut off… then again, the bulk of the troop transports were with forward units so evacuating the entire garrison wasn’t feasible anyway.

“Understood. We’ll consolidate towards Beta and evacuate what we can. God bless, Liz.” What a disaster.

Handing the commset back to Mundy, Lucas tried to remember the exact layout of the base. “Major, can you reach General Leary?”

She checked her set and then shook her head. “I’d have to make a hard connection, sir. Colonel Hazen is in the same sector but past that I can’t give you a reliable link.”

Lucas nodded and leant forwards, rapping his fist against the frame of the hatch into the driver’s compartment. “Get us to a communications node, sergeant. I need to give some orders.”

”Sir, I don’t know where -”

“Take the next ramp on your left,” Mundy interrupted. “Then go right at the top. There’s a redundant relay station four hundred metres from the ramp.”

The driver obediently turned at the ramp, the other three Maultiers leaving them behind as they plunged on towards Beta entrance.

The relay station wasn’t much more than a room carved out from the rock with cabling converging from three directions. Mundy jumped out almost before the APC had stopped moving and started plugging a hand-held terminal into the computers at the junction. Two minutes later she offered Lucas the commset again as he stood over her.

“General Leary?”

He heard coughing and then: “Yes?” the familiar voice of the base commander replied. “This is Leary.”

“General, we’re going to have to evacuate whoever we can. My understanding is that Beta entrance is still secure.”

“Yes sir. We’re holding at Delta but Golf is out of contact. I’ve ordered all but token forces from Hotel and Foxtrot to pull back and try to secure internal choke points. That won’t do more than buy time though.”

“It’ll have to do. Can you withdraw?”

“Not really,” the major general replied cheerfully. “I’ve got less than twenty ‘Mechs and maybe two hundred men left, but we’re stalling at least a brigade. I’ll have the troops at Echo fall back and try to hold choke points. If you can get the troops from the other four entrances out then that’ll leave something to rebuild the Division with.”

Assuming there’s anyone left to rebuild, Lucas thought bitterly. He’d pulled everything that really remained in for the attack that was supposed to be launched in four days by Seventh and Eighth Armies. Twelfth Army was stretched to garrison occupied Federated Suns Worlds and Thirteenth Army was cobweb holding together bases in the Lyran Commonwealth and Terran Hegemony. And it was unlikely Marlette was the only world being hit.

That was all that was left. Sixty divisions, only half of them fit for more than garrison work.

And now General Kerensky was dead. He’d been trying to work out how he could break that to the troops when the attack came in.

It couldn’t have been John Davion, could it? The timing was suspicious, but gas? Really?

“Sir?” asked Leary.

Realising he’d been lost in thought, Lucas touched the microphone. “We’ll have to try,” he said. “Don’t try some heroic sacrifice, General. If you can buy us twenty minutes then bug out or surrender. We can get you out of a detention camp, but not from the grave.”

“Surrender, sir?”

“We’re not fighting Rimjobs, General. Once there’s no further point to resistance, lay down your weapons.”

“I’m not actually familiar with that manoeuvre,” Leary told him briskly. “But I’m told I’m good at improvisation.”

Lucas was about to offer some mild reassurance – it was hardly the time for a reprimand – when another hovercraft screamed up the ramp and missed the turn towards the communications node. The little vehicle bounced off the wall and he saw what looked like half its flank fall off.

Then a second hovercraft made a better job of the turn and the general realised these weren’t SLDF vehicles – they weren’t much more than a cockpit and a turbofan. What he’d thought was flank armour were men clinging to the sides, troopers wearing what must be the new Davion powered armour.

Only a moment later he realised that the hovercraft in the lead was still coming, and the driver wasn’t going to manage to avoid the Maultier either. Grabbing Major Mundy’s sleeve, Lucas hurled her to the floor and threw himself on top of her.

Several tons of metal smashed together as the AFFS hover tank hit the rear of the Maultier, crushing part of the engine. The back of the smaller hovercraft reared up, flinging the two remaining soldiers off it and into the air. One came down on top of the Maultier.

And the second crashed down on the two dismounted SLDF officers, crushing them both beneath almost a ton of metal-clad infantryman. In a moment of mercy, Mundy and Lucas’s skulls bore the brunt and they died immediately.

Unaware that they’d just – entirely by accident – decapitated the SLDF, the rest of the Battle Armour squad dismounted from the second and better driven Savannah Master and opened fire on the Maultier as the passengers and crew bailed out.

Within seconds the fight was over and the remaining troopers remounted, leaving Jack Lucas’ body and the others where they lay.

.o0O0o.

FSS Tancredi, Nadir Point Batavia
Crucis March, Federated Suns
4 April 2780

Normally jumping a warship into a point known to be cluttered with an entire fleet of transports awaiting their dropships would be a ticket for relief with cause and a court martial. In Kenneth Jones’ view, the risks of this operation were already so high that such minor matters as the possibility of one of his squadron interpenetrating one of the jumpships was a mere trifle.

As it happened, the demon Murphy decided to withhold his wrath, no doubt intending to inflict some other disaster in the future, and the three warships jumped into the designated locations without accident.

Not without incident, of course. Their inbound jump signatures had been detected and the SLDF were hardly as insane as to leave over a hundred jumpships undefended here on the frontlines. Around the perimeter of the fleet dropships and warships must have gone to battle stations and alert fighters were vectoring in towards the intruders.

Shaking off the jump-shock with the practise of hardened veterans, the crews of FSS Tancredi and her escorts, FSS Katherine Davion and FSS Arthur Davion, began launching their own fighters and weapons lit up as ready to fire.

“All guns, engage targets of opportunity.” There had been no chance of drawing up a detailed fire plan so he had no choice but to rely on the initiative of the crews. “Launch screens!”

Around the squadron chaos ruled. The jumpships were military crewed but their commanders knew that their thin-skinned and fragile vessels – little more than jump drives with docking collars and small habitation spaces – had no business being in this sort of fight. Most cut their jump sails and brought up their K-F drives, knowing that their only hope was escape.

It would take time though and they had precious little of it. Jones saw a Star Lord hit by long-range missiles from one of the Tancredi’s anti-fighter turrets. The jumpship massed more than a quarter of a million tons and half a ton of missiles was far from enough to destroy it, but they tore open gaping holes in the hull and that hull was to a large extent the outer shell of the drive itself. In a brilliant blaze of light, the Star Lord jumped out… or half of it did. The distorted shape of the aft sections remained adrift, which said bad things about the likely fate of the other half.

Around them the armed escorts tried to target the Federated Suns warships. A reinforced squadron of twenty-four warships had been stationed in Batavia to escort XIX Corps for the attack on Markesan, but three of the four divisions of that squadron were escorting the corps’ dropships from Batavia out to the jump-point. They were deep inside the star’s gravity well and more than two days away under in-system drive. The remaining division was the heaviest in the squadron though – four McKenna-class battleships and a mismatched pair of heavy cruisers, supported by Pentagon-class dropships.

Normally that would have been enough to obliterate Jones’ command, but the orderly ranks of jumpships were now broken up by discarded jump sails and the debris. To this were added the screens – ten-ton capsules launched from the Tancredi in every direction. Each capsule launched electronic decoys, chaff and other obscurants that made it hard to pin down the exact location of the squadron’s ships. Wary of hitting their own ships, the battleships had to fire cautiously, if at all.

Unconstrained by this, the Tancredi turned slightly to present a less desirable target and picked out an Avatar-class cruiser. Electronic signatures matched the war book as SLS Kyoshi, a veteran of the fighting over Keid. The carrier’s starboard bow missile tube launched a single missile but as the ship continued to turn the port tube came into line and a second missile fired.

A Pentagon-class ship dived down to try to intercept the missiles. Weapons blazed away, in one case punching through the habitation decks of a luckless Invader-class jumpship, but missed the missiles. With self-sacrificial courage, the dropship managed to intercept the second missile with its own hull. The fifty-kiloton warhead almost vaporised the Pentagon and her crew.

Behind her the Kyoshi tried to evade, bow rising above the missile’s trajectory. But it was too late. The missile slipped beneath the cruiser’s blunt hose and then caught the vessel mid-ships, at the flight deck. Guts blown out, the heavy cruiser’s turn became a spin, debris scattering across the battlespace as lifeboats and escape pods began to evacuate the surviving crew.

Somewhere out in the mayhem, Jones knew that his fighters were fighting and, in some cases, dying. But he had no way to control them – radar and magnetics were entirely confused. The debris was beginning to impair jumps – it was hazardous to jump with unaccounted for mass inside the sphere of a K-F drive’s area of effect. The bubbles of energy that had formed around some of the departing jumpships were shaky and distorted, nerve-wracking to an experienced spacer.

The nearest battleship – he couldn’t even guess at its identity – lurched as autocannon from the two destroyers smashed into the marginally thinner forward hull plating. At this angle only a few of the massive ship’s weapons could fire back – although they did and the Katherine Davion leaked air where naval-grade lasers punched into her side. Two missiles launched from the wounded McKenna-class ship, trying to repay the death of the Kyoshi.

Unfortunately for that hope, the anti-missile turrets fitted to the two ships picked off both of the anti-shipping missiles before they could reach their targets.

A moment later the massed autocannon salvos penetrated the armour, explosive payloads ripping into control compartments and weapon systems. One of the forward autocannon batteries of the McKenna blew off, the great ship clearly out of control.

Not all of the news was so good and it was the Arthur Davion’s turn to stagger as one of the other battleships unmasked its broadside and opened up on the destroyer with twenty-four heavy particle beams – the captain had clearly decided collateral damage was no longer a concern. The much smaller warship wasn’t hit by everything but the shots that did hit carved away the armoured protection of her hull and wrecked three of her autocannon turrets.

The painfully bright detonations of nuclear weapons told of fighters reaching their targets. Whether the Centurions were engaging Pentagons or the other capital ships was hard to tell, but it wasn’t an immediate concern.

Turning to face the Kyoshi had left the Tancredi more or less nose on towards the McKenna that had just battered the Arthur Davion. The carrier added her autocannon and particle beams to the two destroyers’ fire, the Arthur rolling to direct fresh weapons at the enemy.

Their shots eradicated the distinctive cooling fins that gave the McKenna-class such a distinctive profile. The cooling systems located in them were vital in order to handle the massive heat of the battleship’s main battery.

Limping closer, the McKenna’s autocannon took up the slack – short-ranged but brutal weapons that broke the Arthur Davion in two, breaking the destroyer’s spine just forward of the engines.

Fire from the Katherine Davion and Tancredi poured onto the larger ship – the largest battleships ever built, a McKenna-class out massed both of them combined – but by keeping damaged hull sections forward, the battleship commander was cannily forcing them to hammer away only at the wreckage of systems that were already useless to him.

The guns spoke again and this time the Tancredi shook. One of her flight decks tore open, a rent in her hull a hundred metres long at least visible from the flag deck.

And then three little specks swung in behind the oncoming battleship.

Like drum beats, five kiloton detonations marched forward along the McKenna’s hull. The first obliterated her engines, the second shaved off half of her broadside particle beams and the third ripped through the grav decks and broke the mighty vessel in two.

“That was cutting it a little fine,” Jones noted grimly.

His aerospace control officer looked up. “We have confirmed kills on all six warships and twenty-one dropships, sir.”

Jones nodded grimly. “Finish off the rest of the jumpships – disabling ships if possible - and pick up our survivors. We’re on a schedule.”

Without lithium-fusion batteries that the SLDF used for newer ships to allow a second jump in succession, the two warships would have to survive in the system for a week before they could make good their escape, and eighteen vengeful warships would be in hot pursuit, led by none other than the SLS Richard Cameron, as soon as they’d escorted the fleet of dropships back to the safety of Batavia.

Jones didn’t know if Janos Grec had returned to take service again aboard his flagship from the Battle of Titan, but it was a formidable ship anyway. No, they had two days to build up a lead and then to lose themselves in the outer system for another five.

One thing was sure – until another fleet of jumpships could be assembled, XIX Corps was effectively blockaded on Batavia, unable to support the other Corps of Eighth Army as the AFFS attacked them.

It was, he hoped, worth the loss of a destroyer and most of the two hundred spacers aboard her.
"It's national writing month, not national writing week and a half you jerk" - Consequences, 9th November 2018

Daryk

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Re: Davion & Davion (Deceased)
« Reply #443 on: 22 April 2018, 07:28:49 »
It's a shame Mundy (and Lucas) had to go like that... Murphy is unforgiving sometimes.

Jones is still my favorite... I hope he lives to see a retirement of the non-medical variety...

Excellent as always!

marauder648

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Re: Davion & Davion (Deceased)
« Reply #444 on: 22 April 2018, 07:57:56 »
oh damn...Kerensky dead...that don't bode well and it seems that the Kuritans are going to pin this on the Steiners to get the Protectorate take revenge.  Excellent updates, but a sad end for the General.
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DOC_Agren

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Re: Davion & Davion (Deceased)
« Reply #445 on: 22 April 2018, 12:17:48 »
RIP Kerensky,
I really had it pinned on Marik not Kurita as a way to takeover the remaining SL assets "Temporary" Of course due to the crisis.
"For the Angel of Death spread his wings on the blast, And breathed in the face of the foe as he passed:And the eyes of the sleepers waxed deadly and chill, And their hearts but once heaved, and for ever grew still!"

Red Pins

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Re: Davion & Davion (Deceased)
« Reply #446 on: 22 April 2018, 14:57:58 »
You have to wonder just how the chemical attack happened and why the Dracs think they won't get fingered - I'd expect Unity City to be crazy with CCTV cameras, security guards, etc. 
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Zureal

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Re: Davion & Davion (Deceased)
« Reply #447 on: 22 April 2018, 23:39:33 »
at this point the SLDF has to be so demoralized. Though to be honest I would start to think that the SLDF soldiers remaining are starting to think about jumping ship and siding with who they know. They all know that Davion is honest and the best of what is left now that Kerensky is gone.

Red Pins

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Re: Davion & Davion (Deceased)
« Reply #448 on: 23 April 2018, 00:41:19 »
Yeah, but how many are going to be forced to decide otherwise?  The Steiner garrison would probably cross the border to the Rim, and the FS group probably split between the Hegemony and the FS or Pentagon worlds.  I don't think the DC is much of an option at this point.
...Visit the Legacy Cluster...
The New Clans:Volume One
Clan Devil Wasp * Clan Carnoraptor * Clan Frost Ape * Clan Surf Dragon * Clan Tundra Leopard
Work-in-progress; The Blake Threat File
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SCC

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Re: Davion & Davion (Deceased)
« Reply #449 on: 23 April 2018, 01:44:21 »
I don't think there's any SLDF left in the DC. There is, I think some in the CC but, and maybe the FWL.