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Fan Fiction / Re: From a Ristar to a Lady
« Last post by The Wobbly Guy on Today at 08:40:19 »Abbeville,
Kilbourne PDZ, Woodbine Operational Area,
14th September, 3061
0300 hours
Laser blasts hammered the pirate Stinger into a smoking heap. Finn smoothly slid his crosshairs over to the next target, an old Demolisher tank that was trying to get into range, backpedalling his Templar to open up the distance to avoid the reach of its massive autocannons.
The tank rumbled forward, desperately trying to get into range. Finn never gave it that chance, waiting for the steady tone of a confirmed lock from his targeting computer before unleashing the full power of his rotary autocannons on the enemy vehicle. The explosive shells ripped through its turret, a fiery gout of flame erupting from the tank as its ammunition stores ignited.
He hyperextended his jaw for an instant, opening the lance channel. “Sitrep?”
Uzochi replied, “My sector’s locked down. Just some jeeps with conventionals that stopped once I asked nicely.” Well, even if his mech was just a Wasp, it had more than enough firepower to wreck that force.
Raella called in next. “Got three Vedettes here. Smoked ‘em. Need some conventionals to pick up the survivors though.” Thankfully, his scout had given him ample information to position his forces appropriately. Her Dervish was best equipped to hit the Vedettes, while his own Templar could deal with the Stinger, Panther, and Demolisher force.
Finally, Josh called from his Javelin, “All clear, boss.” As their electronics warfare platform, Finn made sure to keep the Javelin and its expensive equipment away from harm.
“All right, the local garrison is moving in. We’ll let them secure the area, then move to the final target. Uzo, make sure the locals don’t rough up these pirates too much, we still need any intel they can give us. They know it too, but tempers might be a bit short around these parts given what’s happened.”
“Copy that boss.”
The whole affair had turned out to be an orchestrated event. A pirate force had leaked the information they had on a bigger rival band to draw Clifton’s Rangers off Abbeville, so that they could jump in and take advantage of the weakened defences.
Fortunately, the CO of the Rangers, Major Marc Clifton, and his XO Captain Jack Burton, were wary of the intel and had called in some support from the neighbouring worlds. Finn’s forces were actually the first to arrive, just in time to catch the pirates in the act of looting.
The local ruling noble launched an investigation which bore immediate results, and it had fallen to Finn, as the leader of the strongest military force present, to enact their brand of ‘frontier justice’.
An hour later, under darkening skies of the setting sun, Finn waited at the foot of his Templar while the local militia stormed the compound nearby, a small fort belonging to a local Baron, Lawrence Giles.
He did not have to wait long. The infantry soon dragged out Baron Giles, his hands cuffed behind his back.
The man fell to his hands before Finn, his hands clasped tightly together. “Sir, please have mercy!” he begged.
“Mercy?” Finn scoffed. “Like the mercy you showed the people of Abbeville when you betrayed them to the pirates? Did you really think we wouldn’t find out what you did?” The troops of the local militia stood around them, their faces hard and unyielding. The Baron’s wife and daughter huddled under armed guard, tears streaming down their faces. “The pirates did what they did because they were pirates. You, however, committed treason against Abbeville and the Federated Commonwealth. Which crime do you think was worse?”
“My lord, I know I was wrong! Please, give me a chance! I’d do anything! Whatever I have, I can give it to you…” The man continued to beg, not knowing that each word simply hardened Finn’s resolve further.
“As nobility, our role is to ward our fiefs and ensure the defence of our people and their livelihoods. That’s why your subjects pay their taxes.” Finn drew his sidearm, a simple revolver. “Similarly, we soldiers exist in order to protect our nation and its people. We maintain our weapons in order to fulfil our duties.”
Finn glared at the Baron. “So, Baron Giles, do you know the penalty for treason on Abbeville?”
Baron Giles stammered, “Th… that’s…”
“This is one of the few mercies I can grant you. Or would you rather take your chances with the mob? It’s not difficult, I heard the people are all ready for a good old fashioned lynching.” Finn’s tone was ice-cold as he opened the bullet chamber of his revolver, checking that the bullets were all loaded. With a twist of his wrist, he snapped the chamber into place, and spun the chamber with practised ease with his other hand. “In accordance with the laws of Abbeville, I hereby sentence you to death.” He aimed the revolver at the Baron’s head.
“Please, spare my family!” The Baron knew that he could not avoid death, but he still pleaded desperately.
Finn replied, “Neither Count Dewey nor I can revoke your title, since that privilege belongs solely to the Archon Princess. That said, we will still need to investigate what your wife knew, and if necessary, she will share your fate. Only your daughter is exempt, and she will, at least, inherit your title.”
The Baron bowed his head in quiet relief, knowing at least his daughter would be safe. “Thank you, thank…”
Finn squeezed the trigger. He barely felt the recoil.
Blood splattered across the ground. The Baron’s wife screamed, while clutching her young child against her chest, her hands shielding the child’s eyes from the gruesome sight.
“For the next month, put up his body for all to see.” Finn turned to the Baron’s wife. “Count Dewey’s men will interrogate you and check your house accounts and records. If you had any knowledge of your husband’s treason, you will be executed as well. Your daughter will be warded at Count Dewey’s, and he will appoint a Steward for her until she is of age. This is the only justice I can offer.”
She continued to wail, “You’re a monster! You didn’t even offer a fair trial!”
“You forget where we are, my lady.” The wife was clearly not from the Outback and did not seem to have fully understood the rough and ready frontier life, sheltered by the privileges of wealth and position. “This is the Outback near the Periphery. Trials as you know them have no place here.” At least not on Abbeville, which was an extremely rough place governed by frontier justice. The Trivet was more civilised, but only because of the efforts of the ruling Counts over the centuries.
He turned to the troopers standing around. “Take her away.”
Finn looked back at his Templar. I have killed many people. Some were guilty, some were innocent. His mind went back to the immediate aftermath of Operation Bulldog, when the liberated worlds were in chaos and the DCMS had to call in the rest of the allied units to help restore order. The respect I now have… was earned through the blood I spilled and the curses people spewed at me.
He recalled the quote from Machiavelli’s The Prince - that it was always better to be feared than loved, to maintain order and control. He wondered how Anastasia would react if she saw what he did just now. Would she be appalled? Would she hate him? Or fear him?
I’d not ask her to understand, because this is the path I’ve chosen, and the way of life of a military aristocrat in the Outback. She might say he could be reformed through compassion and affection, but he also knew that such naivete belonged in fairy tales, not in the brutal reality of the Inner Sphere.
I feel weary… I wonder if it’s raining where you are, Anastasia. And if you’re thinking of me… Dusk had fallen, and long shadows covered the gritty ground before him. A gust of wind blew dust devils across the land.
Hauptmann Finn Rason, callsign ‘Warhog’, quiaff? I am not impressed at all. It does not matter how skilled you are… An apparition seemed to float before his eyes. Because I am sure my skills outmatch yours. The apparition’s face seemed to solidify, revealing tanned skin, dirty brown hair, and light brown eyes verging on yellow. But the thought of my retreat from Bicester at the hands of a freebirth who has no drive, no purpose…
He muttered, “Are you…”
Yellowish eyes seemed to shade into blue, while brown hair darkened into black. Avryl Shower’s voice overlaid with Anastasia Kalinska’s.
…makes me want to kill you.
“...Ana?”
The apparition faded away as the sun finally set.
Kalinski Estate, Inman,
Milligan PDZ, Woodbine Operational Area,
16th September, 3061
2300 hours (0700 hrs on local 28 hr cycle)
“Almost there!” urged Hawise as Anastasia pushed the handles of the chest fly machine together, her arms trembling with effort. “Alright! Twenty reps!”
Anastasia finally stopped with a groan, arms shaking with exhaustion. She took several moments to regain her energy, and stumbled out of the leather seat.
“Good job,” Hawise commented, taking her own turn on the machine. Anastasia watched with envy as the older woman easily did twenty reps at a heavier resistance, her motions smooth and practised.
“Really? Not good enough.” Anastasia griped as she wiped sweat off her brow with a handy towel. Intense cardio followed by strength training always took a lot out of her, which was why she could only do the physical training every other day.
“Any more and you will lose more than you gain. Better to take it slow and steady. I would not want the maids coming after me for not looking out for you if you get injured!” Hawise shuddered with exaggerated fear. “It is one thing for me to push those fat security guards. Quite another to push the ‘esteemed lady of House Kalinska’.” The last few words dripped with sarcasm.
Anastasia rolled her eyes. “It’s not like I wanted it that way, quineg?”
“Neg.” Hawise shook her head. “But you had best be careful. Wouldn’t want the servants thinking you’re weird with all the clan speech you’re throwing around.”
“Only us in here, and no men. I’m not worried.” Anastasia shrugged complacently. They were the only ones in the gym, in the time specifically scheduled and reserved for her exclusive use. It was also the perfect time to discuss certain issues with Hawise in relative privacy. “So how are matters coming along?”
“The most immediate concern has been addressed. The estate’s guards are now adequate for security operations, but no more than that. We are not paying for actual combat infantry, after all, and besides, we do not have the equipment nor the permits necessary.”
“Permits?”
“Aff. Count Haynes is quite careful with the distribution of military force on Inman. Even autorifles are regulated. That said,'' Hawise grinned, “I managed to get the TO&E of the local militia and the Haynes’ household guards.”
“Oh?” Anastasia knew that this piece of intel was critical. “I tried asking before, but nobody could answer me.”
“That’s due to your position. As a proper wellbred lady, you are not expected to care about this. I, on the other hand, am an uncouth barbaric clanner who somehow got hired as your Weapons Master thanks to my being in your good graces after that hoverbike incident, so my position affords me some justification to find out stuff so I can do my job. Before they left, I straight up went to Viscount Rason’s coregn… I mean aide, to get the info.”
“His aide…” Anastasia tried to recall the name, one finger tapping her chin thoughtfully, “Eric?”
“Aff, that’s the freeborn. Eric made arrangements with the other military aides to give me all the necessary intel so I could figure out how best to shape our forces into complementing the rest of the militia, either on Altoona or the Trivet. I only just got all the data.”
“And?”
“The standing Inman militia, not counting Viscount Rason’s quick reaction force, which is away anyway, consists of a lance of mechs, a company of vehicles, and another company of infantry. I have the exact breakdown in my noteputer, I’ll send it to you. In the event you go after Pence Lamongue,” Anastasia had already told Hawise about his true identity, “they probably could be persuaded to stand down. The real issue is the Haynes’ household guards.”
“There is Pence Lamongue’s Banshee. It’s the most powerful mech in the whole Trivet. Including the Banshee, they have two full lances. Then they have a lance of vehicles and two companies of infantry, one motorised and one foot. That’s a hefty defence force for Haynes.”
“What about the rest of the nobles?”
“Another two lances amongst the various nobles, military families with a mech. Various scattered infantry and vehicle lances and platoons. I have not time to determine their loyalties yet.”
“Interesting,” Anastasia thought hard about it. “The balance of power seems carefully maintained such that no one side has an overwhelming advantage over the other two.” Was it intentional, in order not to alarm the nobles? Or to save money? She had heard enough stories from Venice about Count Haynes’ greed to readily believe the latter.
Hawise warned, “If you still wish to take down Pence Lamongue, you will need a much stronger force than what you can muster now, or for the situation to change drastically.”
Anastasia thought about Raymond Haynes’ offer. It was tempting, but she refused to manipulate Finn for it.
“Oh right,” she remembered suddenly, “how about the other thing I asked you to look into?”
Hawise smirked, “On how to form a mercenary unit? It’s easy enough, just register as a private company providing military services, and get an employer.”
Anastasia arched an eyebrow. “The details?”
“That is the real problem. Even if, for example, you form a new unit around your Valkyrie and the modified Harvester, add a platoon of infantry and some combat vehicles, you’ll still need to find an employer locally, or else find transportation off-world. That’s the most difficult part, finding a dropship to move your merc unit. I guess you can always go to the HPG station and hire a jumpship and dropship to move you, but that defeats your purpose of trying to escape with Lady Codina, since that would be easily discovered, quineg?”
“Neg.” Anastasia sighed. “It was just a thought. I find myself unable to abandon my thirst for vengeance. Not even for Venice. But I guess if it really comes down to it, I can always hide her in my estate and try to smuggle her offworld. Or,” her eyes brightened up, “find some excuse to get her to Altoona, and then smuggle her offworld there!”
Hawise looked impressed, “Good idea. Except the Count would not be happy, and you will have a lot of people angry at you. What do you think your chances of getting your revenge would be then?”
“I cannot just sit around and do nothing!” Anastasia punched her fist onto one of the nearby leather cushions in anger.
“Then think of a political solution that will get her out of the marriage then.” Hawise made it sound so simple.
“That is the problem!” Anastasia grumbled. “I cannot think of any! I am absolutely useless at politics.” She cast a baleful glare at Hawise, “Do you have any bright ideas?”
Hawise shrugged, “Hey, I was just a clan warrior, and a low ranking one at that. I had no idea how to play politics back in the clans, much less here in the Inner Sphere.”
They looked at each other, then sighed in mutual resignation.
Hawise then said, “On to some good news. I’ve managed to find an old mech simulator pod, several of them, actually. They can only run old Succession Wars era mechs, so they are quite limited. But that was also why they were available for cheap on the discount heap, since the local militia got rid of them after they changed up to newer models that could accommodate a lot more modern designs.”
Anastasia nodded. Finally, she could get in some practice! “But did anybody not ask questions?”
Hawise shrugged, “The merchants were only too happy to get rid of the machines, since they were taking up space! And I hinted very strongly they were for my own use, so no worries about being linked to them.”
“When will they be ready?”
“Probably sometime in the first week of October. I cleared out a room next to the gym, I can install them there. We can use them during or after our gym periods, I will restrict access to it with a key only you and I will have. Some we will transport to Altoona and install there.”
“Excellent!” Anastasia grinned. Getting Hawise onboard was fortuitous and the presence of a mechwarrior meant she could slide many of her own activities under the radar.
“There is only one last thing,” Hawise said, “I have put out feelers through the HPG to purchase second or third hand tracked APCs. We will need to wait for sellers, and also start sourcing for crews.”
“Any idea how to get the vehicle crews?” asked Anastasia. “Put out a notice similar to the APCs purchase?”
“Crews are trickier than hardware. We need to ensure their loyalty is reliable, that is why we cannot just hire openly. It would be easy to plant spies and agents.”
“What do you suggest?”
Hawise grinned mirthlessly. “Ask Viscount Rason. He was from the Davion Guards, he probably has contacts we can use. Not to say they might not be working for the Davions, but at least that is a more predictable problem.”
Anastasia narrowed her eyes. “And how does a Nova Cat mechwarrior seem to know so much about espionage and subterfuge?”
Hawise shrugged. “After I tested down, my Clan’s Watch approached me. I just fit their profile as a loyal member of the clan. The training as a Watch agent was barebones simple, just reading a whole lot of manuals, but it was enough to give me some idea. And after I became part of the Smoke Jaguars as isorla… well, it did not matter anymore, quiaff?”
“Aff.” Anastasia did not like all this, but she supposed she had no choice. “So how long do you think we can get the crews?”
“We have to wait for the Viscount to return, and then you,” she pointed at Anastasia, “will talk to the Viscount first. Get some contacts from him, pass them to me, and I will settle the rest. It will take time though, and I think the earliest we might get the APCs and the crews ready would be the end of the first quarter of 3062. Probably later, depending on when he returns, and how long it will take for the APCs and the crews to get transportation here.”
“You can settle the paperwork, quiaff?”
“Aff, but you will still need to check. I will go over the cost estimates with you sometime later today.” Hawise smirked. “Why do I get the feeling that you hired me just so you can foist the admin work on somebody else?”
“Well,” countered Anastasia mildly, “I was a Star Captain, I have seen worse.”
“But you still hate it.”
“Which warrior would not?” Anastasia asked rhetorically, then pointed out, “We all hate it, but it is necessary.”
“Maybe some of these ‘Social Generals’ I keep hearing about in the Inner Sphere.” Hawise stood up from the bench she was sitting on and started walking towards the gym exit. “At least be glad that Viscount Rason is a real warrior instead of one of those dilettantes.” She winked at Anastasia.
Anastasia threw her towel at Hawise in exasperation, but the older woman quickly ducked out before it hit her. With that last shot, Hawise left the gym, leaving Anastasia alone. She scoffed, knowing that Finn probably foisted his paperwork on his aide.
And there was still no message from Finn after so many weeks! The nerve of that man! He’s making me worried! Why am I even worried about him at all? Argh!
---------------
Took a bit of liberal license with how they deal with traitors in the Outback. As suggested in the various Housebooks, not every world conforms to the federal standards of justice. As stated in Handbook: House Davion, pg 152,
From this, I doubt the federal judiciary would want to waste time castigating Abbeville and Finn for what they did.
Kilbourne PDZ, Woodbine Operational Area,
14th September, 3061
0300 hours
Laser blasts hammered the pirate Stinger into a smoking heap. Finn smoothly slid his crosshairs over to the next target, an old Demolisher tank that was trying to get into range, backpedalling his Templar to open up the distance to avoid the reach of its massive autocannons.
The tank rumbled forward, desperately trying to get into range. Finn never gave it that chance, waiting for the steady tone of a confirmed lock from his targeting computer before unleashing the full power of his rotary autocannons on the enemy vehicle. The explosive shells ripped through its turret, a fiery gout of flame erupting from the tank as its ammunition stores ignited.
He hyperextended his jaw for an instant, opening the lance channel. “Sitrep?”
Uzochi replied, “My sector’s locked down. Just some jeeps with conventionals that stopped once I asked nicely.” Well, even if his mech was just a Wasp, it had more than enough firepower to wreck that force.
Raella called in next. “Got three Vedettes here. Smoked ‘em. Need some conventionals to pick up the survivors though.” Thankfully, his scout had given him ample information to position his forces appropriately. Her Dervish was best equipped to hit the Vedettes, while his own Templar could deal with the Stinger, Panther, and Demolisher force.
Finally, Josh called from his Javelin, “All clear, boss.” As their electronics warfare platform, Finn made sure to keep the Javelin and its expensive equipment away from harm.
“All right, the local garrison is moving in. We’ll let them secure the area, then move to the final target. Uzo, make sure the locals don’t rough up these pirates too much, we still need any intel they can give us. They know it too, but tempers might be a bit short around these parts given what’s happened.”
“Copy that boss.”
The whole affair had turned out to be an orchestrated event. A pirate force had leaked the information they had on a bigger rival band to draw Clifton’s Rangers off Abbeville, so that they could jump in and take advantage of the weakened defences.
Fortunately, the CO of the Rangers, Major Marc Clifton, and his XO Captain Jack Burton, were wary of the intel and had called in some support from the neighbouring worlds. Finn’s forces were actually the first to arrive, just in time to catch the pirates in the act of looting.
The local ruling noble launched an investigation which bore immediate results, and it had fallen to Finn, as the leader of the strongest military force present, to enact their brand of ‘frontier justice’.
An hour later, under darkening skies of the setting sun, Finn waited at the foot of his Templar while the local militia stormed the compound nearby, a small fort belonging to a local Baron, Lawrence Giles.
He did not have to wait long. The infantry soon dragged out Baron Giles, his hands cuffed behind his back.
The man fell to his hands before Finn, his hands clasped tightly together. “Sir, please have mercy!” he begged.
“Mercy?” Finn scoffed. “Like the mercy you showed the people of Abbeville when you betrayed them to the pirates? Did you really think we wouldn’t find out what you did?” The troops of the local militia stood around them, their faces hard and unyielding. The Baron’s wife and daughter huddled under armed guard, tears streaming down their faces. “The pirates did what they did because they were pirates. You, however, committed treason against Abbeville and the Federated Commonwealth. Which crime do you think was worse?”
“My lord, I know I was wrong! Please, give me a chance! I’d do anything! Whatever I have, I can give it to you…” The man continued to beg, not knowing that each word simply hardened Finn’s resolve further.
“As nobility, our role is to ward our fiefs and ensure the defence of our people and their livelihoods. That’s why your subjects pay their taxes.” Finn drew his sidearm, a simple revolver. “Similarly, we soldiers exist in order to protect our nation and its people. We maintain our weapons in order to fulfil our duties.”
Finn glared at the Baron. “So, Baron Giles, do you know the penalty for treason on Abbeville?”
Baron Giles stammered, “Th… that’s…”
“This is one of the few mercies I can grant you. Or would you rather take your chances with the mob? It’s not difficult, I heard the people are all ready for a good old fashioned lynching.” Finn’s tone was ice-cold as he opened the bullet chamber of his revolver, checking that the bullets were all loaded. With a twist of his wrist, he snapped the chamber into place, and spun the chamber with practised ease with his other hand. “In accordance with the laws of Abbeville, I hereby sentence you to death.” He aimed the revolver at the Baron’s head.
“Please, spare my family!” The Baron knew that he could not avoid death, but he still pleaded desperately.
Finn replied, “Neither Count Dewey nor I can revoke your title, since that privilege belongs solely to the Archon Princess. That said, we will still need to investigate what your wife knew, and if necessary, she will share your fate. Only your daughter is exempt, and she will, at least, inherit your title.”
The Baron bowed his head in quiet relief, knowing at least his daughter would be safe. “Thank you, thank…”
Finn squeezed the trigger. He barely felt the recoil.
Blood splattered across the ground. The Baron’s wife screamed, while clutching her young child against her chest, her hands shielding the child’s eyes from the gruesome sight.
“For the next month, put up his body for all to see.” Finn turned to the Baron’s wife. “Count Dewey’s men will interrogate you and check your house accounts and records. If you had any knowledge of your husband’s treason, you will be executed as well. Your daughter will be warded at Count Dewey’s, and he will appoint a Steward for her until she is of age. This is the only justice I can offer.”
She continued to wail, “You’re a monster! You didn’t even offer a fair trial!”
“You forget where we are, my lady.” The wife was clearly not from the Outback and did not seem to have fully understood the rough and ready frontier life, sheltered by the privileges of wealth and position. “This is the Outback near the Periphery. Trials as you know them have no place here.” At least not on Abbeville, which was an extremely rough place governed by frontier justice. The Trivet was more civilised, but only because of the efforts of the ruling Counts over the centuries.
He turned to the troopers standing around. “Take her away.”
Finn looked back at his Templar. I have killed many people. Some were guilty, some were innocent. His mind went back to the immediate aftermath of Operation Bulldog, when the liberated worlds were in chaos and the DCMS had to call in the rest of the allied units to help restore order. The respect I now have… was earned through the blood I spilled and the curses people spewed at me.
He recalled the quote from Machiavelli’s The Prince - that it was always better to be feared than loved, to maintain order and control. He wondered how Anastasia would react if she saw what he did just now. Would she be appalled? Would she hate him? Or fear him?
I’d not ask her to understand, because this is the path I’ve chosen, and the way of life of a military aristocrat in the Outback. She might say he could be reformed through compassion and affection, but he also knew that such naivete belonged in fairy tales, not in the brutal reality of the Inner Sphere.
I feel weary… I wonder if it’s raining where you are, Anastasia. And if you’re thinking of me… Dusk had fallen, and long shadows covered the gritty ground before him. A gust of wind blew dust devils across the land.
Hauptmann Finn Rason, callsign ‘Warhog’, quiaff? I am not impressed at all. It does not matter how skilled you are… An apparition seemed to float before his eyes. Because I am sure my skills outmatch yours. The apparition’s face seemed to solidify, revealing tanned skin, dirty brown hair, and light brown eyes verging on yellow. But the thought of my retreat from Bicester at the hands of a freebirth who has no drive, no purpose…
He muttered, “Are you…”
Yellowish eyes seemed to shade into blue, while brown hair darkened into black. Avryl Shower’s voice overlaid with Anastasia Kalinska’s.
…makes me want to kill you.
“...Ana?”
The apparition faded away as the sun finally set.
Kalinski Estate, Inman,
Milligan PDZ, Woodbine Operational Area,
16th September, 3061
2300 hours (0700 hrs on local 28 hr cycle)
“Almost there!” urged Hawise as Anastasia pushed the handles of the chest fly machine together, her arms trembling with effort. “Alright! Twenty reps!”
Anastasia finally stopped with a groan, arms shaking with exhaustion. She took several moments to regain her energy, and stumbled out of the leather seat.
“Good job,” Hawise commented, taking her own turn on the machine. Anastasia watched with envy as the older woman easily did twenty reps at a heavier resistance, her motions smooth and practised.
“Really? Not good enough.” Anastasia griped as she wiped sweat off her brow with a handy towel. Intense cardio followed by strength training always took a lot out of her, which was why she could only do the physical training every other day.
“Any more and you will lose more than you gain. Better to take it slow and steady. I would not want the maids coming after me for not looking out for you if you get injured!” Hawise shuddered with exaggerated fear. “It is one thing for me to push those fat security guards. Quite another to push the ‘esteemed lady of House Kalinska’.” The last few words dripped with sarcasm.
Anastasia rolled her eyes. “It’s not like I wanted it that way, quineg?”
“Neg.” Hawise shook her head. “But you had best be careful. Wouldn’t want the servants thinking you’re weird with all the clan speech you’re throwing around.”
“Only us in here, and no men. I’m not worried.” Anastasia shrugged complacently. They were the only ones in the gym, in the time specifically scheduled and reserved for her exclusive use. It was also the perfect time to discuss certain issues with Hawise in relative privacy. “So how are matters coming along?”
“The most immediate concern has been addressed. The estate’s guards are now adequate for security operations, but no more than that. We are not paying for actual combat infantry, after all, and besides, we do not have the equipment nor the permits necessary.”
“Permits?”
“Aff. Count Haynes is quite careful with the distribution of military force on Inman. Even autorifles are regulated. That said,'' Hawise grinned, “I managed to get the TO&E of the local militia and the Haynes’ household guards.”
“Oh?” Anastasia knew that this piece of intel was critical. “I tried asking before, but nobody could answer me.”
“That’s due to your position. As a proper wellbred lady, you are not expected to care about this. I, on the other hand, am an uncouth barbaric clanner who somehow got hired as your Weapons Master thanks to my being in your good graces after that hoverbike incident, so my position affords me some justification to find out stuff so I can do my job. Before they left, I straight up went to Viscount Rason’s coregn… I mean aide, to get the info.”
“His aide…” Anastasia tried to recall the name, one finger tapping her chin thoughtfully, “Eric?”
“Aff, that’s the freeborn. Eric made arrangements with the other military aides to give me all the necessary intel so I could figure out how best to shape our forces into complementing the rest of the militia, either on Altoona or the Trivet. I only just got all the data.”
“And?”
“The standing Inman militia, not counting Viscount Rason’s quick reaction force, which is away anyway, consists of a lance of mechs, a company of vehicles, and another company of infantry. I have the exact breakdown in my noteputer, I’ll send it to you. In the event you go after Pence Lamongue,” Anastasia had already told Hawise about his true identity, “they probably could be persuaded to stand down. The real issue is the Haynes’ household guards.”
“There is Pence Lamongue’s Banshee. It’s the most powerful mech in the whole Trivet. Including the Banshee, they have two full lances. Then they have a lance of vehicles and two companies of infantry, one motorised and one foot. That’s a hefty defence force for Haynes.”
“What about the rest of the nobles?”
“Another two lances amongst the various nobles, military families with a mech. Various scattered infantry and vehicle lances and platoons. I have not time to determine their loyalties yet.”
“Interesting,” Anastasia thought hard about it. “The balance of power seems carefully maintained such that no one side has an overwhelming advantage over the other two.” Was it intentional, in order not to alarm the nobles? Or to save money? She had heard enough stories from Venice about Count Haynes’ greed to readily believe the latter.
Hawise warned, “If you still wish to take down Pence Lamongue, you will need a much stronger force than what you can muster now, or for the situation to change drastically.”
Anastasia thought about Raymond Haynes’ offer. It was tempting, but she refused to manipulate Finn for it.
“Oh right,” she remembered suddenly, “how about the other thing I asked you to look into?”
Hawise smirked, “On how to form a mercenary unit? It’s easy enough, just register as a private company providing military services, and get an employer.”
Anastasia arched an eyebrow. “The details?”
“That is the real problem. Even if, for example, you form a new unit around your Valkyrie and the modified Harvester, add a platoon of infantry and some combat vehicles, you’ll still need to find an employer locally, or else find transportation off-world. That’s the most difficult part, finding a dropship to move your merc unit. I guess you can always go to the HPG station and hire a jumpship and dropship to move you, but that defeats your purpose of trying to escape with Lady Codina, since that would be easily discovered, quineg?”
“Neg.” Anastasia sighed. “It was just a thought. I find myself unable to abandon my thirst for vengeance. Not even for Venice. But I guess if it really comes down to it, I can always hide her in my estate and try to smuggle her offworld. Or,” her eyes brightened up, “find some excuse to get her to Altoona, and then smuggle her offworld there!”
Hawise looked impressed, “Good idea. Except the Count would not be happy, and you will have a lot of people angry at you. What do you think your chances of getting your revenge would be then?”
“I cannot just sit around and do nothing!” Anastasia punched her fist onto one of the nearby leather cushions in anger.
“Then think of a political solution that will get her out of the marriage then.” Hawise made it sound so simple.
“That is the problem!” Anastasia grumbled. “I cannot think of any! I am absolutely useless at politics.” She cast a baleful glare at Hawise, “Do you have any bright ideas?”
Hawise shrugged, “Hey, I was just a clan warrior, and a low ranking one at that. I had no idea how to play politics back in the clans, much less here in the Inner Sphere.”
They looked at each other, then sighed in mutual resignation.
Hawise then said, “On to some good news. I’ve managed to find an old mech simulator pod, several of them, actually. They can only run old Succession Wars era mechs, so they are quite limited. But that was also why they were available for cheap on the discount heap, since the local militia got rid of them after they changed up to newer models that could accommodate a lot more modern designs.”
Anastasia nodded. Finally, she could get in some practice! “But did anybody not ask questions?”
Hawise shrugged, “The merchants were only too happy to get rid of the machines, since they were taking up space! And I hinted very strongly they were for my own use, so no worries about being linked to them.”
“When will they be ready?”
“Probably sometime in the first week of October. I cleared out a room next to the gym, I can install them there. We can use them during or after our gym periods, I will restrict access to it with a key only you and I will have. Some we will transport to Altoona and install there.”
“Excellent!” Anastasia grinned. Getting Hawise onboard was fortuitous and the presence of a mechwarrior meant she could slide many of her own activities under the radar.
“There is only one last thing,” Hawise said, “I have put out feelers through the HPG to purchase second or third hand tracked APCs. We will need to wait for sellers, and also start sourcing for crews.”
“Any idea how to get the vehicle crews?” asked Anastasia. “Put out a notice similar to the APCs purchase?”
“Crews are trickier than hardware. We need to ensure their loyalty is reliable, that is why we cannot just hire openly. It would be easy to plant spies and agents.”
“What do you suggest?”
Hawise grinned mirthlessly. “Ask Viscount Rason. He was from the Davion Guards, he probably has contacts we can use. Not to say they might not be working for the Davions, but at least that is a more predictable problem.”
Anastasia narrowed her eyes. “And how does a Nova Cat mechwarrior seem to know so much about espionage and subterfuge?”
Hawise shrugged. “After I tested down, my Clan’s Watch approached me. I just fit their profile as a loyal member of the clan. The training as a Watch agent was barebones simple, just reading a whole lot of manuals, but it was enough to give me some idea. And after I became part of the Smoke Jaguars as isorla… well, it did not matter anymore, quiaff?”
“Aff.” Anastasia did not like all this, but she supposed she had no choice. “So how long do you think we can get the crews?”
“We have to wait for the Viscount to return, and then you,” she pointed at Anastasia, “will talk to the Viscount first. Get some contacts from him, pass them to me, and I will settle the rest. It will take time though, and I think the earliest we might get the APCs and the crews ready would be the end of the first quarter of 3062. Probably later, depending on when he returns, and how long it will take for the APCs and the crews to get transportation here.”
“You can settle the paperwork, quiaff?”
“Aff, but you will still need to check. I will go over the cost estimates with you sometime later today.” Hawise smirked. “Why do I get the feeling that you hired me just so you can foist the admin work on somebody else?”
“Well,” countered Anastasia mildly, “I was a Star Captain, I have seen worse.”
“But you still hate it.”
“Which warrior would not?” Anastasia asked rhetorically, then pointed out, “We all hate it, but it is necessary.”
“Maybe some of these ‘Social Generals’ I keep hearing about in the Inner Sphere.” Hawise stood up from the bench she was sitting on and started walking towards the gym exit. “At least be glad that Viscount Rason is a real warrior instead of one of those dilettantes.” She winked at Anastasia.
Anastasia threw her towel at Hawise in exasperation, but the older woman quickly ducked out before it hit her. With that last shot, Hawise left the gym, leaving Anastasia alone. She scoffed, knowing that Finn probably foisted his paperwork on his aide.
And there was still no message from Finn after so many weeks! The nerve of that man! He’s making me worried! Why am I even worried about him at all? Argh!
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Took a bit of liberal license with how they deal with traitors in the Outback. As suggested in the various Housebooks, not every world conforms to the federal standards of justice. As stated in Handbook: House Davion, pg 152,
Quote
Local governments retain almost complete jurisdiction over crimes committed on their soil against their citizens, though the federal government has broad leeway to prosecute “crimes against the people or government of the Federated Suns, including its officials, branches and its citizens in general.”
From this, I doubt the federal judiciary would want to waste time castigating Abbeville and Finn for what they did.
