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Castrum Keep, Priori
Kerensky Cluster, Clan Homeworlds
12 June 3046
The bite of cold air stung against Chris’ exposed face as he left the cabin, closing the door softly so as not to wake his mother or Dane. Not that the bottles that had accumulated on the table suggested that either was likely to wake, but it was important to calculate risks and only take those necessary.
When the latch caught, the young man trotted down the porch steps and onto the muddy path that served as a road for Castrum Keep. His breath froze every time he exhaled and he tucked the scarf around his throat more securely. If the books and lessons available to him were correct, summers were supposed to be warm and presumably were in the other hemisphere of Priori. Not that he was ever likely to find out.
The sky was full of gray clouds, dimming the morning light as he crossed the broader road that separated the residential district from the sturdier buildings that lurked behind thick, v-shaped berms. If anyone attacked Castrum, the idea was that the berms would channel attacks into killing zones between them. Chris’ mother didn’t think much of the notion - it was arguing over that which had driven off her previous astech. Dane was less argumentative, which might have endeared him to Chris more if the man wasn’t clearly the third best technician in their little household.
Then again, that didn’t endear Chris to him either, and Dane still had a head of height and several kilos of weight over him. It hadn’t come to a fight so far, but Chris had the suspicion that if they did fight then winning might cost him more than it was worth.
Glenda Castrum was a pragmatic sort, but she also knew that letting her followers kill each other could tear her little kingdom apart.
Fishing through his coat pocket, Chris found the key he needed for the padlock and fumbled it into place with gloved hands. Once through the door, he hung up the padlock from the hook inside and unzipped his coat. The hangar was a little warmer than outside, not to mention shielded from the wind. Two bays, essentially ripped out of a dropship and reassembled, held the entirety of the keep’s battlemech strength.
The young man gave his own ride a rueful look.
Gimpy would never walk again, at least not unless another right leg could be found for it. And for that matter, Glenda would have words if its reactor wasn’t kept powering what passed for the settlement’s power grid. Assigning it to Chris was partly a joke, but it gave him at least the status of apprentice mechwarrior.
Beside it, quieter and colder since its own reactor wasn’t active, Gimpy’s brother sat waiting for Chris. The second Griffin clutched a Star League era PPC in its right hand - taken from Chris ‘mech after its own was destroyed in a raid several years ago. Chris kept his gloves on as he scaled the gantry ladder - the metal would still be cold at this time in the morning.
He couldn’t help but glance left as he climbed, seeing where Dane had opened up the plating around Gimpy’s LRM launcher.
Today’s job would be to detach the missile launcher for transplanting over to the other Griffin. It had its own missile launcher - a much newer one, but it was driving his mother to distraction with problems so Dane had recommended stripping it for Gimpy’s, which would match the original.
Chris remembered angry words the night before. The bigger man confident in his decision, derisive of the notion that he’d be taking the only working weapon off Gimpy. What, he’d asked, had it mattered? Gimpy was going nowhere and would never fight again.
It didn’t matter to Dane that a weaponless ‘mech was barely a ‘mech at all. The only reason it hadn’t been done before was that Sophia was so sure that the new launcher would be a great upgrade over that damaged six months ago. Built in a proper factory, to the specifications of modern warmachines, it had twice as many tubes and could handle similarly current production missiles.
The problem, Chris thought as he opened up the hatch, was that it was also much bulkier. Even letting it rise up higher out of the shoulder as far as it could while still being structurally secure hadn’t allowed for enough space and that had left the three of them spending weeks rearranging the ammunition bin to scrape up the room. There was barely room for half as many missiles, which meant only a quarter the original endurance in theory.
In practice, the loading mechanism was still jamming, which meant that his mother would be going into battle with one salvo pre-loaded and then what reached the launcher for the second before it jammed. Not ideal at all.
Climbing inside, Chris took off his coat and rolled it up to fit behind the seat. Dane’s solution would work, he admitted. It’d mean all their work since obtaining the new launcher was for nothing - not to mention the effort to obtain missiles for it, or disarming Gimpy completely. But he was also sure that there was another way, one that Dane was ignoring simply because it extended beyond his limited grasp of the systems.
And between her son and the astech who shared her bed, his mother had made her decision.
The only way Chris would keep the thin grace of mechwarrior status would be if he solved the problem himself, before they arrived to start disarming Gimpy. Fortunately, the amount they’d had to drink meant several hours to himself.
He had the technician codes to boot up the reactor, but for this he’d need full access to the weapon systems. Chris pulled out a decoder he’d cobbled together using the electronics bench before Dane asserted sole right to the technician’s workshop and plugged it into the access ports. The battle computer spun up and started the security procedure before dropping into a loop as it found nothing to check against. The mechwarrior apprentice pulled the neurohelmet down from its shelf and secured it on his head, tightening the chinstrap.
As if relieved to have something to work with, the security locked in and opened the new user prompt. Chris mumbled something that would pass for a security phrase - it wasn’t as if he could leave the user ID active once he’d done this, his mother would kill him - and with a blink the screens lit up. A recorded message reported the reactor going online, something he could feel as the vibrations reached him even through the padded seat. And more importantly, the weapons went live.
Chris set the individual safeties - he didn’t want to fire them! - before digging into the coding of the missile reload process. He’d noticed that it was always the nineteenth or twentieth missile in a salvo that jammed and that suggested a solution that would give his mother almost the full benefits of her new weapon, without the handicap of the current problem.
It took him over an hour, working from the manual, to find the loader’s control options. His mother had already amended them once, telling it to double the original missile load per salvo. The original code was backed up and Chris was able to compare the two. To be honest, he wasn’t sure why it wouldn’t work. But it didn’t matter: the fact was that it didn’t.
Opening the editor, Chris altered the salvo load. His mother’s amendment was for two sets of ten missiles to load. Rather than remove that, Chris changed it so that each set would be nine missiles. Doing so twice would only load eighteen missiles out of the potential twenty, but if it worked it was still much better than the original ten.
He doublechecked the code before saving his work and strapping himself into the seat. It was vanishingly unlikely it’d be necessary even if something went wrong, but his mother always told him that it was better to take a precaution and not need it than the reverse. At one time when running checks like this, he remembered his mother telling Dane that among the Clans technicians would have dummy missiles to work with for this - no propellant or warhead that could be set off if something went wrong. It would be nice to have something like that, but there were higher priorities in a raid, or when dealing with other groups. Still, live missiles were supposed to be safe until they were armed.
Checking the ammunition bin wasn’t full, Chris initiated a test cycle - drawing loaded missiles from the launcher back into the bins. He could hear the mechanism trying to work, before an error message reported there was nothing to be cycled back. Good, he’d thought it was empty but better to be sure.
Next he set it to cycle in a full load without arming the missiles, turning his head to listen for the sound of anything jamming as missiles were fed up from the storage into the launcher next to his mother’s cockpit. With the Griffin not moving it was quiet enough to hear each missile clunking into place. One, two, three… there was a brief pause after the ninth missile, just long enough to worry him but then they kept loading and reached eighteen.
Chris exhaled in relief. Now if they did the same when arming, this might be enough to convince his mother. He ordered the launcher cleared again and listened as the load cycled back into the magazine. “Right, here we go.” His thumb hit the key that ordered standard combat load, arming each missile as it entered the launcher.
One, two, three…
An explosion broke his count and for a second he thought he’d wrecked the launcher and perhaps the entire ‘Mech. The youth gripped the arms of the seat, bracing in case the Griffin fell as a result - the ejection system was safed because if it went off now he’d have been plastered against the hangar ceiling.
Nothing. Nothing but the scream of sirens outside.
The explosion had been from outside the hangar. There was a clunk of the LRM launcher accepting the load and Chris saw that it was showing as ready to fire.
Mouth dry, he reached for the comm, but before he could speak the tactical band went live. “All troops, this is Castrum,” Glenda grated. “We are under attack. Clanners. We fight or we die. Non-combatants, get to shelter.”
Chris had drilled this a thousand times in Gimpy’s cockpit, simulated only. But by reflex he slapped the switch to detach his mother’s Griffin from the gantries and then a second that would - hopefully - open the hangar’s massive doors.
He wasn’t wearing a cooling vest, he realized. That wouldn’t help, but there was no time to get one on. The Griffin rocked slightly as he took the first step, but the second was crisp and clean, the way his mother taught him.
She was going to beat his ass for this, but there might not be time to wait.
The main door was sliding open, everything working the way it should be. Chris turned the fifty-five ‘mech sharply and marched through them.
The first thing he saw was fires descending, even as smoke columns began to rise from burning buildings. The tactical display pegged ‘mechs dropping from the sky, jump-jets or disposable packs flaring as they slowed them to survivable rates. There weren’t many… but it didn’t take many, not when they were dropping directly into the heart of the keep.
Planets were large and settlements small. Secrecy had been Castrum Keep’s main defense, but that had clearly failed and now one of the two Clans that currently shared control of Priori had decided to swat what they probably dismissed as bandits… or dark caste, as if the inhabitants were part of their culture.
For a moment, Chris wasn’t sure what was causing the existing fires but then an alarm warned him of both the answer and an immediate threat: a ton of metal and flesh had seized hold of one of the Griffin’s legs and was clambering up to where it could do more damage - an Elemental, one of the Clans’ elite battle armor infantry!
Training kicked in and Chris flicked the leg against the hangar door, catching the infantryman between the mass of the limb and the heavy panel. The elemental dropped to the ground, but looking down he could see that the warrior was already recovering.
With a cry that was as much terror as anger, Chris stamped the foot of the ‘mech down on the soldier, crushing the man (or woman) flat.
Not even an elemental would survive that.
Chris felt his breath rasp in his throat. He’d just killed someone. As easily as stepping on a fly. His mother had told him that piloting a battlemech was a responsibility, one that had been shared by that elite fraternity back to before General Kerensky’s great war against Amaris, back even before the Star League. A responsibility to use the power of their war machines wisely.
Had he been wise? He wasn’t sure… but as warnings blazed out, he realized that one of the falling ‘mechs was descending almost directly upon him.
There was a crash as dozens of tons of metal struck the hangar roof and Chris pushed the Griffin away from the building as it collapsed around the new arrival.
The ‘mech that had brought it down was round-bodied, with two blocky shoulders that seemed disproportionate to the rest of it. About the size of his mother’s Griffin.
The mechwarrior inside it had keen reflexes - they’d landed with their back to Chris but the ‘Mech was turning towards him even before the legs had fully straightened from the landing.
If they’d completed the turn then they would have probably had a chance to tear into the Griffin before Chris even understood what was happening. But instead the ‘mech - a Hunchback, he realised suddenly - stopped and both the massive autocannon fired their full, massive might.
The Clan’s version of the Hunchback mounted not one but two of the most powerful autocannon mounted on a battlemech, weapons with limited range but awe-inspiring effectiveness. Point blank and against an immobile target, the streams of shells tore through the front of Gimpy with terrifying ease.
Chris’ empty, crippled mech slammed back against the rear of its bay, tearing through what was left of the wall behind it. Destroyed in an instant.
Enraged, he threw his mother’s Griffin forwards, slamming shoulder first into the Hunchback.
Caught off guard, perhaps having expected only one Griffin, the clan mechwarrior didn’t respond in time and the slightly smaller ‘mech crashed face first into the divider between the two mech bays.
Given a clear shot at the weak rear armor, Chris didn’t hesitate again. He triggered everything the Griffin had: the Extended Range PPC and the eighteen LRMs loaded into the launcher. At this range, the older LRMs would have been barely effective but the newer missiles didn’t have that problem.
With so much of its mass devoted to the heavy autocannon, the Hunchback’s armor was thin and what it had favored the front. Practically everything fired punched through the plating on the ‘mechs back and shells still in the ammo bins ignited. The explosions tore the sides of the Clan ‘mech apart, sending both arms spinning away, and there was a brief thermal spike before the reactor shut itself down.
That was a kill, Chris thought as sweat trickled down him. A second kill.
It didn’t bother him as much as the first.
And it had been fast. Nothing like the deliberate duels he’d fought in simulation. It had been over in seconds.
Turning, Chris brought the Griffin out of the hangar. There were other Clanners here, other… he glanced back at the wrecked Hunchback and saw a shark painted on one leg. Diamond Sharks. Other Diamond Sharks to fight.
He saw one as he scanned the settlement - another battlemech, this one smaller. The warbook called it a Piranha - the shape somewhat like an upright shark. It was fleet, fast, lethal… and as he watched an SRM explode against its chest, able to largely ignore infantry-carried weapons unless they were deployed en masse.
Two men with launchers on the back of a hover-truck hardly counted as a threat - but they did count as defiance and the Clans generally had little patience with that. The Piranha turned on one heel and the miniguns scattered across its chest sprayed fire back at the pair.
Small compared to the shells of the Hunchback, they were more than enough to tear through unarmoured people. Through thin plating and through wooden walls.
Through the cabin that Chris had called home for almost two decades.
The Diamond Shark hadn’t even been aiming at it particularly, a part of him thought. The hovertruck had just been moving past it when the Piranha fired.
But whatever the intent, there was even less left of the cabin than there was of the now burning hovertruck and its passengers. And thus the other side of Chris howled in fury and he hurled the Griffin forwards, barely remembering not to fire the PPC until he’d cooled further. The LRMs fired though, scattering fire across the Piranha and drawing its attention away from the fleeing crowd.
Kathmandu Castle Brian
Asia, Terra
12 June 3046
The door opened while Wei Rong’s head was pressed between her knees, which made it hard to see who had come inside.
“That looks painful,” a man’s voice observed, the bemusement suggesting that he’d not been watching her on cameras as she exercised. Wei assumed that there were cameras, anyway. She might be in protective custody, but it was still confinement.
She straightened out deliberately, arching her back gradually to work out any kinks remaining. “It takes practice.” Once she was past the halfway-point she saw a powerfully built ComGuards officer in the doorway, long white hair giving the impression of a uniform kepi despite his being bareheaded. The eyepatch suggested his identity, but it was hard to tell while inverted and looking up from the floor. Wei brought her feet up against her buttocks and then rolled forwards until she was crouched on them before standing.
Only when she turned around was she sure she was facing Precentor Martial Anastasius Focht, commander of all of the ComGuards. Wei had never met the man, but he did appear occasionally in official news items. “Precentor Focht?” She tried not to look worried, but she was in military detention so this probably wasn’t good. Compared to his dress uniform, she felt underdressed in the ComGuards issue exercise gear she’d been provided while her own clothes were being laundered. She’d been working out as best she could in the lounge for a while and built up a bit of sweat.
Focht dipped his head slightly. “Precentor Rong. I trust you’ve been kept comfortable.”
“I can’t complain.” She probably could have.
He nodded heavily and gestured towards the seats. “I assume you’ve watched the news.”
Acting as if it wasn’t trivial for the staff here to check what she’d watched on the holo-set. Wei hid derision as she took a seat on the couch, leaving the soft armchair facing her for him. “It’s not been very informative. It seemed censored.”
“It was.” Focht sat stiffly. “The Primus…”
“Whatever she said, they had adult IDs,” Wei blurted and then cursed herself for a blabbermouth.
The way the Precentor Martial’s eyebrows rose suggested this wasn’t what he’d expected. “Yes, I heard you were found in the Bangkok redlight district.” This was in fact true. “You may wish to refrain from that in the future.”
“You know I run the Canopus HPG station, right?” Or she had. Damn, had Waterly finally got around to reassigning her?
“I’m afraid you have other responsibilities now. Primus Waterly is dead.”
“...really?”
Focht frowned. “This isn’t a joke, Precentor.”
“We weren’t close.” To understate it. The bitch had accused Wei of doctoring her own medical records to hide having had work done. As if, Wei was 100% natural. “How did she die?”
“A sniper.”
“...oh.” That must sting. Most of the security around the Primus and other senior ComStar staff came from the ComGuards, albeit sharing the responsibility with ROM. An assassination reflected poorly on the ComGuards and by extension on Focht. “So… Mori is in charge?” Sharilar Mori, Precentor Dieron, had been Primus Myndo Waterly’s right-hand woman and was obviously being groomed as the successor. It was possible someone else would be voted in, but Wei wouldn’t have bet on it. Two-thirds of the First Circuit had been appointed by Waterly, leaving her faction in control.
But Focht shook his head. “A car-bomb, six hours before the Primus’ death.”
A chill went through Wei. Both the Primus and her successor? That suggested an outright coup, and the one in the best place to carry that out was sitting across from her. She leant forwards, absently noting that his eyes did not shift the way most men’s did when she moved her chest. “Could you start from the beginning.”
“That might be best,” he agreed. “Seventy four hours ago -” Twelve or so hours before Wei had been politely detained by a ComGuards patrol who’d seemed quite unprepared for where she’d been found. “- three Precentors were admitted to hospital in Brasilia for severe food poisoning. Precentors Weinberg and Laumer were declared dead on arrival.”
“What the hell did they eat?”
“Forensics suggest that some of the Caph Mussels served had been mis-identified for a similar breed that is toxic. Precentor Behl, the one survivor, appeared to believe that the matter was a case of poisoning by political rivals.”
Wei winced. She’d met Behl once. He was Precentor at New Earth, the first world ever colonized outside the solar system, a post that in theory put him on the First Circuit. Unfortunately for Behl, it had been fifty years since anyone but a Precentor-Advocate mattered in that regard. Grame Behl had made no secret that he resented that, and with the paranoia invoked by Primus Waterly summoning a full conclave of every Precentor of a Class-A station… “What did he do?”
“Do you know how many Precentors have subverted members of ComStar, including elements of ROM, to act as their personal agents?”
Other than ‘more than zero’, Wei did not. There were reasons she enjoyed her posting to HPG stations hundreds of light years from Terra. She shook her head. “So, who’s the Primus now?”
Focht gave her a tired look. “You are.” He refrained from ‘Blake help us’.
“Are you absolutely sure,” Wei said slowly, “That this is not an elaborate practical joke?”
The Precentor Martial slapped his hands down on the arms of his chair. “Precentor, three days ago there were over two hundred Precentors on Terra. We are now down to single digits.”
“You can’t be serious!” Wei came to her feet. “How…”
“Behl targeted fourteen senior Precentors, five of them survived and acted on the basis that this was a coup attempt. While she wasn’t a target herself, Primus Waterly drew the same conclusion from Precentor Mori’s death and ordered a counter-coup purge, which led to those uninvolved but now under threat lashing out.” Focht was easily twice Wei’s age and he sounded furious. “Two hundred Precentors are dead, and close to a hundred times that many civilians and junior personnel who were either executing the attacks or collateral damage.”
Wei considered the fact that she’d been unescorted in the notoriously wicked city of Bangkok while all this had started. She sat down again, heavily. “Then I…”
“Of the surviving Precentors called for the conclave, you are the only one I am sure had no part in this bloodbath. And we must have a clear chain of command before this is made public. We cannot afford for this to spread beyond Terra.”
Wei’s mind raced. Being Primus would essentially trap her here on Terra. Even if she retired, she’d know too much by then to be allowed to leave. “Why me? Why don’t you take the lead? You’re a Precentor and you have seniority over me.” She could see the rank pins he wore marked him as a Precentor with twelve years’ seniority, twice her own six years.
But Focht shook his head. “I have no aptitude for political leadership, whereas you did well for three years at Scarborough.” Wei’s posting before Canopus IV had only been a Class-B station, but it was one of the border systems where it had become necessary early in the Third Succession Wars to establish a wide perimeter around it. Refugees had settled inside that perimeter for security and by the time Wei took over, there was a thriving city administered by ComStar and secured by the fact that neither the CCAF, FWLM or any reputable mercenary would take their forces within a hundred kilometers of the HPG. “And besides that, if I become Primus, this will have the appearance of a military coup.”
She opened her mouth to disagree and then closed it again as she realized he was right.
“The five Precentors who have been involved in this cannot be trusted with the authority of Primus.” Now the white-haired soldier leant forwards, his one eye seizing Wei’s attention. “You are the only viable candidate. And you took an oath when you joined the Order.”
Wei rubbed her eyes. “Have you even buried Waterly yet?”
“Not yet.” In a moment of levity she hadn’t expected, Focht continued: “Given her personal appraisal of you, I imagine we’ll need her to stop spinning before we put her in her grave. She used the word apostate three times.”
“There is nothing irreconcilable between the word of Jerome Blake and the New Hedonist philosophy,” she protested reflexively.
“That would be an ecumenical matter I don’t consider myself qualified to comment upon,” the Precentor Martial observed drily. “In any event, we have your new robes of office being prepared and I have a small provisional staff ready to help you prepare your first public statement.” He raised one hand. “And I only mean help. I am even less qualified to govern from behind the scenes than I would be to serve as Primus myself.”
“And if I say no?”
“Then my honest appraisal is that ComStar will be torn apart and I will be left defending Terra and over two thousand enclaves from the Successor Lords,” Anastasius Focht told her bluntly. “If you’re the woman I think you are, that isn’t a choice.”
Wei Rong, Precentor-VI and holder of two doctorates, one of them on the history of the Second Succession War, searched deep within herself before concluding that - with the alternative of dying in a second and far more overt power struggle within ComStar - that Focht was right.
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Castrum Keep, Priori
Kerensky Cluster, Clan Homeworlds
12 June 3046
By the time the Piranha stopped fighting back, Chris was panting in the cockpit. It was blisteringly hot and sweat was soaking his clothes, making them stick to him in uncomfortable ways.
The mangled Clan Diamond Shark battlemech was lying across the wreckage of another cabin. Scorched wreckage - the fusion reactor’s containment had failed, probably killing the pilot since Chris hadn’t seen an ejection. The fireball caused by air entering the incandescent core of the reactor and expanding violently hadn’t wrecked the light ‘mech beyond repair - combat vehicles were designed to be repairable from such events - but it was in no shape to resume fighting.
If Glenda’s forces won, there would be a new ‘mech for them to use. But as he looked around, Chris didn’t think that was going to happen.
The keep didn’t have the sort of integrated sensor network that the Griffin’s battle computer could connect to, but he could hear over the radio that Hover APCs were coming up the slope from the river, and the voices reporting that didn’t sound confident in their ability to repel the new attack.
Looking at his status display, Chris could barely see a part of his mother’s mech that didn’t need armor repairs. Even the rear armor was status yellow as a result of his falling flat on his back - he’d been successful in avoiding shots from the Piranha’s lasers, which had worked but at a cost. His front was a mess of orange and red - hit by so much machine gun fire that solid hits from heavier weapons would probably penetrate. He was lucky nothing had yet.
The Hover APCs would only have machine guns, so if he went to face them he could probably take them down, but there were more ‘mechs as well. And that was another matter.
Defeating two ‘mechs - one much smaller, the other caught totally off guard - had left the Griffin in need of dozens of man-hours of repairs. And reloading - he’d fired off almost every LRM in the magazine. Chris saw that the current ammunition load was down to single-digits and the launcher hadn’t reloaded yet. When he cycled what was left in, there were only five missiles left.
“This is Bullhead,” he reported on the comm-lines, using his mother’s callsign. “I’ve taken out a Hunchback and a Piranha, but I have maybe one fight left at best.”
There was a pause and then Glenda’s familiar grating voice came through. “Junior, what happened to our actual mechwarrior?”
“She did not make it out of the cabin.”
“******.” That was all the grief Chris’ mother got from the leader of the settlement after more than twenty years. “You heard they have APCs coming up the hill at us?”
“Yes.”
Glenda sounded confident as she said: “We can handle them as long as you can keep the Shark ‘Mechs busy. Can you do that?”
Chris clenched his teeth, a chill in his guts. If he fought one more ‘mech he’d probably be destroyed. More than one? “What are we dealing with?” he asked, trying to keep his voice steady. He hoped her confidence was real, not a pose to keep everyone else on the comms from panicking.
“Two of them. About your size - we think one of them’s a Thunderbolt or similar. Not sure about the other,” Glenda admitted. “Before we lost the sensor tower, we were getting magscans suggesting a pair of fifty to seventy tons each.”
“Don’t the Clans usually run in fives?”
“There is a Piranha up the hill, our tanks have it handled.” Chris wasn’t so sure of that - tanks conjured up the idea of tracked and turret behemoths, but the Castrum tank force was three Thumper self-propelled guns, their artillery pieces replaced with autocannon after the ammunition stocks for the field guns ran out. They didn’t have the armor for extended arrangements and the Piranha would run rings around them.
On the other hand, if he tried to run then the Piranha was fast enough to keep tags on him, the teenager thought. It wouldn’t need to kill him - although it might manage anyway - as long as it could keep him from evading the other two.
“I’m on my way.” He began to march the Griffin towards the slope that led down to the river.
A Thunderbolt wouldn’t be good news - heavier and far better armed than his mother’s Griffin, not to mention being legendarily tough. But the old SLDF design was mostly distinctive for the off-set cockpit and Chris was fairly sure that there was an Omnimech that had the same feature - even heavier than a Thunderbolt, and capable of matching his own ‘mech’s mobility.
And unlike the second-rate machines he’d fought before, such an Omnimech would be in the hands of a frontline warrior, someone bred in a laboratory to have the potential to be a supreme combatant - then trained their whole life for that purpose. The way his mother had been.
She had failed the training, but now Chris would probably be facing someone who had not only passed it, but likely excelled enough to hold a command position. The clamminess of his sweat-soaked clothes against his skin was an uncomfortable reminder of how unprepared he was.
But there was no time to stop and remove some layers, every second could count and -
An alarm blared!
- Chris twisted the Griffin and ducked instinctively.
Suddenly lowering his profile saw more than half the SRMs aimed at him fly harmlessly overhead. A pair went astray, crashing into the wall of a warehouse inside the bastion Chris was moving to support. The wall was breached almost immediately, while the handful that hit the Griffin blew divots into the shield-like shoulder-plate of the ‘mech’s left arm.
If it wasn’t for that plating, some of them might have struck his cockpit.
Turning full circle Chris saw the heat signatures of more Elementals, like the one he’d kicked earlier. But this wasn’t a single warrior - it was a full point of five trying to get back into cover after their ambush failed.
Acting on instinct, he clenched his triggers.
The PPC shot missed wildly - he’d not compensated correctly for such a small target - but the LRMs managed to lock and his five remaining missiles spiraled into the little squad, knocking two of them to the ground.
It wasn’t a kill though. Battle armor was too tough and they were both getting up, trying to follow their companions - none of whom stopped to try to save them. It was a ruthless decision but it meant three of them were back behind cover and able to keep fighting.
Both the stragglers fired their jump-jets, trying to catch up with their squad. One barely lifted off the ground before the jets spluttered and failed, probably damaged by the missile hit.
Chris coldly swung the PPC up and calculated the shot carefully. Better to go for the kill he could be sure of.
The stream of charged particles tore through the backplate and then the chest plate of the Elemental, cutting the warrior in twain. His companion reached the safety of another building, escaping the ability of the Griffin’s ancient sensors to track him.
One more kill.
That made it four he’d defeated, Chris thought bitterly. Out of how many? Dozens. Scores. Probably hundreds, if the APCs were packed with unarmored infantry to finish securing Castrum Keep for Clan Diamond Shark. They’d need that many to keep the ‘dreadful dark caste’ under control until they could be properly brought into submission. Or killed. Sometimes that happened, if the stories were right. Entire Clans had been erased by Kerensky’s fanatics for ‘breaking the unity’. They wouldn’t worry much about the lives of those who had never embraced their Way from the beginning.
Rather than making himself an immediate target by jumping over the bastion’s berm, Chris moved up to the gap separating it from the next fortification and ‘peeked’ with the Griffin’s head and sensors, hoping to get a better idea of what he was dealing with than the defenders on the wall could with little more than their Mk I eyeballs.
The slope wasn’t bare of cover - like Castrum itself it was dotted with trees to obscure the settlement from satellites. It wasn’t perfect of course, anyone who spotted the keep would be able to quickly work out what it was. The idea was to look innocuous enough that no one gave the site a second look.
Obviously that had failed, and the current situation was the result.
At first he didn’t see anything, but fifty plus tons of warm metal wasn’t all that easy to hide. Infra-red, magscans, seismics… there were a lot of tools to use, and Chris’ mech had the advantage of being tucked behind cover and not moving.
After less than a minute, a red marker highlighted something on Chris’ HUD. Zooming in, he saw what one of the infantry on the berm must have spotted: a blocky torso with an off-set cockpit and a rounded missile launcher. It could be a Thunderbolt, he thought. But the warbook was less sure, and it could be a Summoner - the omnimech he feared.
Then as it moved, a second missile launcher appeared. Both mechwarrior and warbook agreed in an instant: that was a Thresher - one of the Diamond Shark’s favored garrison battlemechs. Larger than his Griffin but not by much - no jumpjets, but more firepower. Very much not ideal in the condition of Chris’ mech but not as bad as he’d feared.
He was about to move out but then a second marker popped up and all Chris’ confidence drained away.
The ancient computers of the Griffin had probably never seen a Clan OmniMech before, the warbook’s data had had to be programmed into it by Chris’ mother and her predecessors. But some shapes were clear enough to recognise it.
The bird-like legs, angled missile launchers and skeletal arms of a Clan Mad Dog came into view. The same size as the Thresher, but superior in almost every way.
The warbook gave up on working out the configuration - it didn’t know enough about the ‘mech to make that determination. Chris didn’t care much - he wasn’t worried about the weapons. He was outgunned whatever the answer. What worried him was the man or woman inside it.
“Dammit, kid. Get out there and fight them!” Glenda’s voice crackled over the radio. “They are almost on us.”
“I am looking before I leap,” Chris replied, trying to sound calm. One on one… he honestly did not like his chances but it might work. If both fought him at once…
Then again, the Clans’ custom was to avoid that against honorable foes. Of course, in their eyes he would be nothing but a bandit.
Perhaps he could snipe one of them… no, he wasn’t confident of the PPC’s accuracy at this range. And ambushing them like that would just cement that he was beneath them. So perhaps the reverse…
He had no better ideas.
Raising the Griffin to its full height, Chris moved it out into view. “Warriors of Clan Diamond Shark!” he signaled on the general channel - one his mother had told him was commonly used between rival Clans for communication. “I challenge you!”
The Thresher surged forwards and his sensors picked up targeting systems. Chris side-stepped and was about to chalk the idea up as a failure when the Mad Dog stepped forwards, the arm-mounted weapons held out to the sides, non-threateningly.
“You challenge us? You get above yourself, quiaff?” an amused voice asked. A man, confident and feeling unthreatened. The enemy… the Diamond Shark commander.
Chris leant forwards against his restraints. “I have measured myself against four of your warriors and none have been my equal,” he boasted, not letting little details get in the way of the image he wanted to present. “Perhaps you, their leader are superior… quineg?”
The implication that he was expected to admit inferiority must have stung, because the other man snapped the arms of his Mad Dog up, almost but not quite aiming them. “I would wish to see evidence of this before counting you as skilled!” he snapped. “But I will recognise your courage. My orders though, do not allow me to spare this settlement.”
“I am not challenging you for the freedom of this settlement.”
“Neg? Then what do you find so great a prize as to challenge me?”
Chris swallowed. Looked at the two pristine mechs, clearly not needing to be maintained on a shoestring. At their proud livery, at their confidence. “I want to be a Diamond Shark!”
He had a feeling Glenda was screaming imprecations at him over the radio and he was glad he wasn’t on her channel. But the two Clan mechwarriors also seemed startled.
After a moment, the leader laughed. “My name is Blake Hawker, bandit. Very well, impress me in battle and I will make you my bondsman.”
“You misunderstand me.” Chris started circling to the right, screening his PPC from them with the bulk of his ‘Mech. “A bondsman is the property of the bondholder, I believe? Not truly one of the Clan until the cord is cut?”
“Aff…”
“I hear that warriors join their caste through a Trial of Position - a trial of battle. Let us fight one: here and now.”
Blake Hawker growled deep in his throat. “You overrate yourself.”
“How old are you?” a second voice asked. Someone older, Chris thought. The other mechwarrior?
He considered lying and decided against it. What did it matter? “Nineteen. Why?”
“Our warriors take their Trial of Position for the first time when they are twenty,” the other Diamond Shark explained. “You are too young… but perhaps we can strike bargain…”
“Neg!” snapped Blake. “I will fight him, not you Julian.” The Mad Dog marched forwards. “If you can defeat me, I will send you to one of our warrior sibkos and give you the same chance as any of them to become a warrior. But it will rest on your skills - assuming that you survive to try.”
On my skills. I can live with that, Chris thought. Or die… “I accept. Bargained well and done.”
“Seyla,” Julian murmured, but then broke off and the Thresher moved back and away, while the Mad Dog wheeled and opened fire with both arms!
Chris had not expected such a sudden attack, but he’d been maneuvering for position already and ducked the Griffin away from both shots, then fired his jumpjets to leap back and away from the Mad Dog - landing side on with his right arm pointing towards the oncoming omnimech.
An autocannon of some kind and a PPC, he thought. And those missiles… was he holding them back to spare heat or didn’t they have the reach? He knew he’d been within LRM range but he wasn’t close enough to count the missile tubes or guess at their size. SRMs had a larger diameter than LRMs, but it was hard to tell unless you were close - or could compare one to the other.
His PPC fired in the same instant as Blake Hawkers’, the two particle beams almost completely parallel and barely a meter separating them as they passed each other.
Perhaps Chris’ eye deceived him, but the two beams seemed to converge to their nearest point as they passed each other and then diverge. It was too quick to be sure. If so, it was fortunate, because Hawker’s PPC crackled past Chris’ cockpit so close that his instruments flickered under the electromagnetic charge of the shot, before tearing what remained of the left shoulder guard off.
Chris’ own shot slammed into the Mad Dog’s right shoulder, burning into the joint but as the ‘Mech kept advancing, it was clearly unimpaired - no penetration!
He still isn’t using his missiles, the young mechwarrior thought as he raced the Griffin away through the trees, trying to keep the distance open. He had only one eye on his path, the other on the charge meter for the PPC’s capacitors that seemed to crawl as his only weapon readied itself to fire again. Perhaps because I’m not using mine?
Why didn’t matter - but the autocannon fired, shells ripping into the Griffin, as well as the trees around him.
Some sort of shotgun blast, mother mentioned autocannon like that, he thought. And then the PPC glowed as ready to fire on his weapons display and Chris closed his finger on the trigger.
Hawker’s PPC wasn’t firing yet - perhaps it had a slower charge time? Or he was trying to save himself the heat of firing it quickly? As the Mad Dog hopped forwards quickly with its bird-like gait, Chris had tried to predict the movements of the arms and he aimed for the same shoulder joint as before.
The shot was just a hair lower than he had intended, biting into the upper arm below the shoulder. At first, he thought that it had failed… but then the muzzle of the PPC dropped. Lower and lower, until both the weapon and arm hung nearly vertical.
“Stravag!” Blake Hawker cursed and his autocannon fired again.
One of the submunitions slammed into Chris’ cockpit, rattling him in his chair despite the restraints. His head slammed against the headrest and he was glad that it was padded - even with the neurohelmet’s mass that could have hurt.
Throwing off the carelessness of his small victory, he kept the Griffin running, unable to get away from the Mad Dog but keeping it from closing in on him either.
The cockpit was swelteringly hot and Chris refrained from firing his PPC as soon as it charged, instead waiting for good shots. That might have been a mistake for the next shot he took missed and Hawker was firing his autocannon as fast as it would cycle.
However, no shot that hit did serious damage. It ground away armor further, breaching it in a few places but nothing that was affecting the core systems within. Whatever the nature of the autocannon, the way it scattered small explosive shells around was working against Blake Hawker, who could have shredded the remaining protection of the Griffin if he’d been firing a more concentrated weapon.
With the temperature down to only the yellow warnings, Chris tucked in behind a tree to avoid another autocannon salvo and fired his PPC once more.
The Diamond Shark twisted his ‘mech at the last minute, taking the shot on the right-side of the omnimech. The beam lashed past the damaged arm and bit into the side torso, not far above the waist ring.
It didn’t stop Blake Hawker advancing, though he must have decided that there was more than enough risk for he left a trail of unfired missiles behind him for the next hundred meters of the chase, ejecting unfired munitions from the Mad Dog.
They must have been SRMs, Chris thought, sniping again before turning to cut across a low ridge that would screen the Griffin’s legs from inbound fire. He can’t get close enough so he’s getting rid of them before they explode if I can get a penetrating shot. He fired his jumpjets as he went up the rise - not enough to lift himself off the ground, but just to squeeze a little more acceleration out of the machine. For a reward, the maneuver meant that Blake Hawker’s next shots missed.
They exchanged fire twice more before the Mad Dog crossed the ridge and as it did so, Chris managed to land a shot on the right hip.
The impact sent the heavier ‘mech staggering as Hawker came down the slope - he didn’t fall but the myomers of the leg must have seized momentarily as the charged particles washed over the armor. The leg dragged a short trench in the soil before the clansman had his balance back, and left a trail of armor plating.
“Do you hear your comrades?” Blake Hawker asked over the channel.
Chris frowned. What’s he up to?
“My warriors are defeating them,” the Diamond Shark told him, matter of factly. “A few earth berms and man portable weapons would not have been enough to stop the garrison troopers from storming your squalid little settlement. Sending my Nova to reinforce them was only necessary to deal with your tanks and ‘mechs. Or Mech, rather.”
“It’s cost you two ‘mechs and two elementals!” Chris shot back - and then shot more literally, the beam catching the right leg just above the ankle joint. He’d hoped for another hit to the hip, enough to disable it. But the Mad Dog kept coming.
“Speak properly.” Blake Hawker seemed more offended by the contraction than by the casualties. “You are the only one left. Once I bring you down, this will be over.”
“You have to beat me first!”
The Mad Dog plowed directly through one small tree. “Your armor is barely paper-thin. You will not be able to run forever.”
Chris saw a rocky slope ahead of him, something sure to slow him. A chance for Hawker to get close? He might still have some missiles for the launchers, it was hard to say if he’d emptied his full magazines. “I do not have to lead you on forever, just for long enough.”
“Long enough for what?”
As the PPC charged, Chris spun the Griffin and fired his jumpjets, soaring up into the air to look down on the Mad Dog. He landed facing fully towards the omnimech for the first time since they had begun this duel.
And as the Mad Dog’s clawed right foot began to lift for its next stride, Chris fired the PPC directly into the ankle joint connecting it to the rest of the leg.
With the sound of shearing metal, the foot was left behind and the Mad Dog almost fell as Hawker no longer had the full length of one leg to work with.
“That’s going to slow you down,” Chris informed, forcing the scorching air through his throat. “I can keep firing as long as my reactor’s good, firing from ranges where I don’t have much chance to hit. But you only have so much ammunition - if you waste it at those ranges… what do you have left to fight with?”
For a long moment he thought Blake Hawker wasn’t going to reply but then he saw the range between himself and the Mad Dog was growing faster. When he looked back, the predatory ‘mech had come to a halt, gun still tracking him.
“A clever plan,” the Diamond Shark leader admitted bitterly. “Very well. I will not waste my ‘mech and life on a matter already decided.”
“You are giving up?” The Mad Dog’s temperature was dropping and Chris realized the reactor had shut down, the traditional token of a warrior surrendering.
“Aff.” It seemed from the tone that Blake Hawker found the admission painful. “You may have value to the Clan… and battles should be decided by skill, not luck.”
“I… won…” He had not really expected this.
“Do not gloat! I am still a Star Captain of Clan Diamond Shark, while you are barely a cadet! And we shall not deal with your comrades any more kindly than we would otherwise. They will work for us as bondsmen or face the consequences…”
Blake Hawker kept talking, but Chris was barely listening. Sitting in his dead mother’s barely functional ‘mech, clothes clinging to him with sweat, at the end of his resources… and now he was looking down on a Clan Star Captain?
It was hard to believe, but… looking at the clock he realized that it had taken him less than thirty minutes to kill an Elemental, the Hunchback and Piranha warriors, another elemental and then to defeat Blake Hawker. Five victories in less time than might be needed for a meal.
What was it that he’d read about five victories… oh yes: “I’m an ace,” he mumbled to himself.
“What was that?” demanded Blake Hawker, apparently having finished his diatribe.
“Ace.”
“...very well, Ace. My word is good. You shall have your chance to join one of our sibkos. You will find it harder than you imagine… but if you triumph, you will be a warrior of Clan Diamond Shark.”
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Ooooooh... this looks very promising already. I look forward to seeing more.
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Very interesting, on both line of thought.
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Interesting.
BTW, by Sarna, the Piranha only appeared by 3051, not 3046. Is it another POD, or an error?
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I have a feeling that most "appears by" Mech dates are rounded to the nearest book release.
Yay, more Drakensis.
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I love how you get in power because you survived only because at the time you are in an whorehouse during the purges/coup.
Is refreshingly new and ironic at the same time. Bravo for that.
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I have a feeling that most "appears by" Mech dates are rounded to the nearest book release.
Yay, more Drakensis.
3051 might just be the year the Sharks become short enough in equipment to use the Piranha for something other than solahma formations. Or the year they realize that fighting the Inner Sphere requires fighting lots of unarmored infantry, so the Piranha is actually going to be very useful all of a sudden.
Remember, the Piranha is a second line design; second line units defend against attacks by front line units, meaning that, except against Hell´s Horses and maybe Blood Spirit, 99+% of enemy ground forces it faces will be ´mechs and elementals. The Piranha isn´t meant to fight on that sort of battlefield.
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I love how you get in power because you survived only because at the time you are in an whorehouse during the purges/coup.
Is refreshingly new and ironic at the same time. Bravo for that.
You don't need to goto the whorehouses in Thailand. There are not enough whore houses to hold all the girls/ladybois that would accept a little money for companionship in Thailand.
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Interesting.
BTW, by Sarna, the Piranha only appeared by 3051, not 3046. Is it another POD, or an error?
I wasn't aware it was being listed as being quite that new, although it must have been under development for a while before then.
However, I'm going to play fast and loose with some 'canon facts' that I disagree with, so I'm not going to sweat getting some details wrong.
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Interesting new set of perspectives! Thanks for sharing :thumbsup:
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TAGged for great glory!
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more please, yes much more
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One ping only.
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Off to a great start! Let's see how Operation Revival will play out this time around...
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The part with Chris and the Sharks is certainly interesting but I find myself far more interested in comstar's upper ranks violently imploding because of their inability to not be paranoid asshats. Wei might honestly be a geyser of fresh air for the organization and with Focht backing could make many crucial changes given so many bad actors and their pawns are dead or disgraced and the organization probably utterly horrified by the senseless bloodletting. Of course now she also has to rebuild the upper ranks from a very decimated mid ranks and deal with the houses sniffing for advantage.
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20,000 dead ComStar personell and civilians may take quite a bit to get over. On the upside, a lot of people are getting promotions :D
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i think this just ended the Jihad before it could even begin
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i think this just ended the Jihad before it could even begin
Or at least greatly curtailed and delayed it. Not all of the crazies/Wob's are dead. Some will have survived off world but the thing is their power base is broken and scattered and they are now going to be on the out because I rather doubt the new Primus was part of that sub cult and will not elevate those like the old guard.
But the WoB rose to power through treachery and fanaticism and as long as there a greater organization of Blakists to hide in they will fester or rise spontaneously with time. ROM in particular is utterly infest with them and will be a major problem.
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Bookmarking for reading pleasure.
I wasn't aware it was being listed as being quite that new, although it must have been under development for a while before then.
However, I'm going to play fast and loose with some 'canon facts' that I disagree with, so I'm not going to sweat getting some details wrong.
You may be right it could been in development for bit. Officially the Master Unit List (http://masterunitlist.info/Unit/Details/2535/piranha), it original standard model of the Piranha officially commissioned active service in 3051. Sarna uses MUL to verify canonity of dates.
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Tag
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Or at least greatly curtailed and delayed it. Not all of the crazies/Wob's are dead. Some will have survived off world but the thing is their power base is broken and scattered and they are now going to be on the out because I rather doubt the new Primus was part of that sub cult and will not elevate those like the old guard.
But the WoB rose to power through treachery and fanaticism and as long as there a greater organization of Blakists to hide in they will fester or rise spontaneously with time. ROM in particular is utterly infest with them and will be a major problem.
... And do NOT forget the Five Hidden Worlds and the Teeth of Gabriel which by this time in canon and after drakensis' bloodletting in this tale would only be known to a few remaining WOBbies.
(edit: forgot the word "NOT" ^-^)
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... And do forget the Five Hidden Worlds and the Teeth of Gabriel which by this time in canon and after drakensis' bloodletting in this tale would only be known to a few remaining WOBbies.
That would be covered under ROM as well I am afraid. Such places are going to be the bastions of that sickness letting it survive and slowly reinfect instead of being strangled out as the new wave of saner Blakists take charge and realize a number of old guard still around are pretty ****** crazy. But with the bloodletting and Focht having to ****** things perhaps he finds evidence of the existence of at least some of those places? The dead can hardly tell him no when he and his go through their private records as they try to unravel the messes they left behind.
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That would be covered under ROM as well I am afraid. Such places are going to be the bastions of that sickness letting it survive and slowly reinfect instead of being strangled out as the new wave of saner Blakists take charge and realize a number of old guard still around are pretty ****** crazy. But with the bloodletting and Focht having to ****** things perhaps he finds evidence of the existence of at least some of those places? The dead can hardly tell him no when he and his go through their private records as they try to unravel the messes they left behind.
Who'd unravel the records: ROM?
Which is supposed to be full WOBbies?
At this time the WOB in canon is seen as just another theological group by the rest of ComSTAR, which itself consists of several such groups as WOB at this time is acting highly conspirational already.
WOB's official split-off from ComSTAR has not yet occured (as said above already) but canonically only WOB had at this time in canon the knowledge about the Hidden Five and the Teeth of Gabriel (IIRC the knowledge about the Hidden Five was lost sometime towards the end of Primes Rusensteins' reign).
But pls feel free to correct me as I am writing this off the top off my head .. :)
@Blade4: made mistake with my original comment forgetting an important word - pls re-read.
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But Word of Blake themselves aren’t a single group, even at this time, and I’m not sure if Thomas Marik is the Master yet, who seems to be running the show in terms of the Hidden Five.
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Word or not, I want to see how the Teachings of Blake get syncretised with New Hedonism. That might solve the Order's recruiting problems for years to come.
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It’d certainly put a different spin on that rave pic from the old ComStar book.
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Who'd unravel the records: ROM?
Which is supposed to be full WOBbies?
And given the people doing the assassinations included ROM agents? Yeah Focht is probably only trusting people he can vouch for or those he trust can vouch. Honestly he and the new Primus might use this to do some serious cleaning with enthusiastic grass root support because this should never have happened. Comstar is supposed to be safeguarding Humanities future and trying to uplift it not be so ****** paranoid and insidious that one tragic accident sets of a cascade of murder and counter murder till the organization literally decapitates itself. Focht I assume is only still alive because he was considered a political non entity bitch that could be dictated to by the winners. That and being far more deadly than expected.
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that or old freddie is just that damn dangerous in a damn firefight
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Focht right now has enough trouble looking for any remaining subverted elements within ComGuards and bracing for the coming storm. No matter how tight the information control is, the news of Comstar free for all assassination bonanza will come out and there are sharks aplenty in the water. Worse, every dead precenator had cultivated a network of loyal subordinates on their way up, so there is a lot crucial middle rank personnel that are ripe for schism/defection/subversion so the Whorehouse Blues Primus will have a one hell of an uphill struggle after being a veritable Mount Pelee survivor, the tons of nicknames she will get being the least of it.
It's interesting to see a fight against a clan mech where keeping the distance is a winning option.
That would be an ecumenical matter
Father Precenator Jack approves.
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I'm here for two reasons:
1) I'm a fan of Drakensis' writing... he's one of the best we have!
2) Primus "Way Wrong" is just TOO funny! :toofunny:
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Opalescent Reflections
Dealer’s Choice
Chapter 1
Dedicated to
Peter Maurice Hayman
1941-2023
Hilton Head, North America
Terra, Sol System
8 July 3046
The Primus’ offices felt like even more of a prison than the Kathmandu Castle Brian. If Wei Rong was very well behaved then she might be allowed out to enjoy the beaches of Hilton Head for a couple of hours. Technically, she could have overruled that, but there were so many polite and well-reasoned arguments made by the staff…
At least she’d managed to win the argument that the white robes of the Primus could be kept for formal occasions, so she was able to wear something lighter for most of her office hours. The robes still hung in a sideroom though. Waiting. Knowing she’d have to give up and wear them sometimes.
She should probably have worn them for this meeting, since it might become somewhat formal. On the other hand she hadn’t done so for the previous meeting of this nature and the reactions had told her useful things about those she was meeting.
“Your 10am guests are here, Primus,” one of the small horde of polite young men running the office let her know. She’d have suspected Myndo of ulterior motives in having them, but none of them flirted back even a little. She was probably going to replace them as well, just so she didn’t feel like an outsider in her own office.
“Send them in,” Wei said and left the desk to go to the seats at the other side of the room. Two semi-circles of couches, surrounded on three sides by views of the sunny South Carolina couch outside. Piped in from cameras - the office was surrounded on all sides by layers of protection.
The door opened and her guests entered - both wearing Adept’s robes with the hoods thrown back. One robe was too crisp to have been worn much - carefully stored or bought for the occasion, Wei Rong thought. Having seen their profile pictures, she recognised Andrew Norris. The Sandhurst teacher was taller than the second man, whose robes suggested he wore them regularly.
“Primus,” Norris greeted her, bowing his head politely. Joe Murphy followed suite, glancing at her and then the vacant desk.
“Please, be seated.” She gestured towards the couch facing her.
The two men didn’t exchange looks, but there was some definite hesitation before Murphy took a seat, sinking into the cushions. Norris sat more towards the edge.
“You’re not in trouble,” she told them. “If this was disciplinary, we’d be elsewhere.” Omicron and Psi divisions were still leaderless and she’d been cherrypicking transfers to keep them that way. Internal security might matter, but some of the files she’d had to review when she took over at Canopus IV were stomach-churning, and Psi’s spiritual purity advisors had been little more than Waterly’s inquisitors. “This is in the nature of a job interview.”
“Both of us at once?” Murphy asked in bemusement.
“I’m very busy and we have a lot of positions to fill.” Wei said ruefully. She’d be less busy when some of the jobs were settled - she was having to at least oversee the people handling the responsibilities of the Precentors who’d died the previous month until she had appointed formal replacements. Ideally she’d have just been able to approve the people stepping up, but approval wasn’t her sentiment in many cases. And then there had to be justification to do something other than advance them…
It would have cut into her sleep, but in the interests of sanity, Wei had kept a rigid nightly schedule.
“I didn’t think there was a vacancy for tech-support here.” Murphy glanced at the desk with its holographic displays sitting idle. It was a logical guess - he was one of the senior tech-admin staff in Kappa’s Pacific North-West offices, keeping the medical division’s systems going.
Wei shook her head. “We’ll get to that. Now, unless I’ve got your files mixed up, you both started in the ComGuards didn’t you?”
“Yes, Primus,” confirmed Norris. “Twenty years in HPG security before I got tapped for teaching at Sandhurst seven years ago.”
“Part of Precentor-Martial Focht’s expansion efforts, and better use of your military history degree,” she confirmed. “Serving mostly at HPG stations in the Draconis Combine?”
“Exclusively,” he admitted. “We go where we’re sent, but it’s nice to be back on Terra.”
Too bad for him, Wei thought. “So you have a basis for comparison of the ComGuards before Primus Waterly appointed the Precentor Martial. How do you feel about the changes he made?”
“I’m very pleased, Primus. The new acolytes we’re sending out are better prepared for their duties now than they were before he was brought in. That’s not a small feat, given we’re training at least ten times as many of them as we used to.”
It wasn’t quite fanatical, she thought… but if she took the words at face value then he was one of Focht’s loyalists. Perhaps he was just trying too hard though. And given how many staff she’d met from Combine stations that toed Waterly’s hardline positions… well, that might be why he’d been happy to go to Sandhurst. “And you?” Wei asked Murphy.
“Uh, ten years of Ix - uh, Iota-Xi.”
“I’m familiar with the term,” she allowed. ComStar’s jumpship and dropship security teams. What were traditionally called marines in most military forces. “A lot of travelling the stars?”
The shaven-headed man shrugged. “I saw more of them than of planets for a while. Then back here for a course to transition to Zeta -” Meaning a ComGuards technician. “But there was an opening for techs here and at the time we were under ROM so transferring wasn’t as big a jump as I think it is now.”
“A relief to have steady gravity?” she asked, thinking back to the long transit back from Canopus IV for the ill-fated conclave.
“It’s hard on my knees.”
“You’re both being considered for positions off Terra,” Wei told them. “Filling vacant postings means moving a lot of people around. Will that conflict with your family situations.”
Murphy just shook his head. Norris looked like he’d bitten a lemon. “I’m already in a long-distance relationship,” he allowed. “Adding more distance wouldn’t be ideal, but we go where we’re sent.”
If it was the woman mentioned in his file, then he might find this preferable. Although he still wouldn’t be in the same star system as the doctor he’d been in steady, if infrequent, contact with. “Your sacrifice is noted,” Wei said and then winced as the man’s face tightened at what could have been sarcasm. “I mean that sincerely,” she clarified.
“Could I ask where you’re planning to send me?” Murphy asked her politely, obviously trying to take the pressure off the man next to him. Was that institutional loyalty? She didn’t think that they’d met before now.
“In your case, Tharkad. Even colder than your current posting.”
“Oh. Tech-admin for the new Precentor there?” The technician smiled. “I heard Atreus and New Avalon had been appointed, I guess the other First Circuit seats are decided.”
“Very nearly. So what does the rumor mill say about the first appointees?”
The two men both backed up visibly at that question. “I’ve never crossed paths with either of them,” Murphy said.
“Precentor Tiger Lily is said to be very attached to her conservation work here on Terra,” added Norris cautiously. “It’s surprised some people that she’d be be willing to leave.”
“A new world and new opportunities,” Wei told them. “Terra has had centuries to recover from the scars left by Amaris. Other worlds have seen far more recent warfare. From Atreus she’ll have the chance to oversee conservation efforts across the Free Worlds League.”
Murphy frowned. “I did… gather that Precentor Buckley had been serving in the Free Worlds League, I’m not clear why he was sent to New Avalon not to Atreus.”
Wei forced a smile, despite less than fond recollections of the man in question. “The size of the Federated Suns means we lost rather a lot of Precentors stationed there in the recent unpleasantness. I wanted someone with his seniority there.”
Joseph Buckley was one of Myndo Waterly’s not-so-little club - Dieron-Toyamists, as Wei mentally labeled them. He might have spent the last decade and change in the Free Worlds League, but he’d started out under Waterly’s leadership when she was Precentor Dieron, then been sent to the Free Worlds League after Thomas Marik quit the order to become the acting Captain-General. Putting the man on the same planet as the New Avalon Institute of Science - one of Waterly’s chief fixations - felt like a bad idea, but with a bit of luck he’d be too busy fighting with the appointees of his predecessor to cause many problems.
Tiger Lily - her homeworld didn’t use family names, for some reason Wei didn’t care about - was more moderate and might be able to rein in the local fanatics a bit. Marik was the most favorable House Lord to ComStar and he’d had to put up with enough trouble from Demona Aziz already. Someone steadier on Atreus would probably be welcome.
Neither of the men facing Wei disagreed with her openly. She was sure they’d get past that.
“My predecessor had an acrimonious relationship with the Great Houses,” Wei admitted. “That was unavoidable with the movement towards a more active ComStar presence - it’s hard to make reforms and friends at the same time. Now that she’s established our Order’s new position, I hope to soothe those tensions without losing the gains made - let the people of the Inner Sphere see that ComStar is providing services and support to them, in ways that the Great Houses can’t while they’re focused on fighting each other.”
“And if they stop fighting?” asked Norris. “Unlikely as that seems,” he added wryly.
“Then we can hopefully help them transition from war to peace without a rupture on the scale of the Reunification War,” answered Wei. The formation of the Star League and end - for a few generations - of conflict between the Great Houses had simply turned the bloodshed out into the Periphery, marks of which she’d seen on Canopus IV even centuries after the Star League had vanished. “Jerome Blake hoped that ComStar would one day oversee a restoration of peace, and while I don’t see the prospects of a restored Star League as likely, that is our long term goal.”
“And if the Federated Commonwealth conquers everyone?” asked Murphy.
She made a face. “Back when I first joined ComStar, that seemed like a real possibility. The problems Hanse Davion and Melissa Steiner-Davion have faced make it clear that ruling even the worlds they do is a challenge. If they do succeed, then we’ll need to carve out a role in administering the Inner Sphere - a role that House Steiner-Davion can’t easily displace us from.”
Norris shook his head. “I can’t see Hanse Davion tolerating our independence.”
“Then perhaps his heir can be persuaded to take a more understanding view.” Wei considered that the heir of the Federated Commonwealth was reportedly heading for New Avalon to spend a year at the Institute of Science there, as part of his ongoing education. Hopefully he wouldn’t run into Joseph Buckley while he was on his father’s homeworld. Victor Steiner-Davion supposedly had more interest in the military than in court politics.
She considered the two men facing her. Also military in their origins within the Order. Hopefully their promotions would persuade Focht that she was sympathetic to the ComGuards. And neither seemed prone to extremism - the Blessed Order didn’t need more of the paranoia that had caused so much bloodshed.
And utterly pointlessly, as far as she could tell. Waterly’s purpose in calling hadn’t been been for any sort of purge - although she and a few other Precentors would have been shuffled out to Class B stations. The goal had been more for Waterly to have a grand display of the support of ComStar’s precentors for her position, with formal ceremonies to cement her position on Terra.
Instead, it had killed the Primus and tens of thousands of others. Although given the teeming billions of Terra, the blip in death statistics had been no worse than a bad traffic day.
“I hope you’ll keep those ideas in mind in your new stations, Precentors,” she said out loud.
Norris’ eyes widened slightly. Murphy blinked. “I’m an adept, Primus,” he said, indicating his robes.
“Not any more, Precentor Tharkad.”
“Is this a joke?”
“I said much the same when Precentor Focht told me that I’d become Primus,” Wei told him.
“I’ve never run an HPG station!”
“You run a department that has more staff than our entire presence on Tharkad,” the Primus pointed out. “The administration shouldn’t be a problem for you.”
“I’m not a diplomat!”
Wei nodded. “That should make you stand out. The Lyran court is full of smooth-talking politicians and businessmen. A precentor who’s there to keep things running and not get dragged into that is exactly what I want. And the Archon may learn to appreciate a more direct approach. Ideally, you can convince her - or her son - that we don’t have to be enemies.”
“I’d say rather you than me,” Norris muttered, looking at the man next to him, “But I have a horrible idea about what my own posting is.”
“I’m sending you to Luthien,” she told him. “Traditionally, our Precentor-Advocate to the Draconis Combine has been stationed on Dieron rather than their capital but I don’t think the reasons for that hold up any more.” It also let her shift the focus of administering the HPG stations across the Combine out of Waterly and Mori’s stronghold.
The teacher groaned. “May I ask ‘why me?’”
“You’re a poet and a swordsman,” she told him. “Takashi Kurita respects both those things, and his son would rather deal with soldiers. Waterly had a lot of dealings with Theodore Kurita but they seem to have clashed personally even if their political goals aligned.”
Including shipments of arms that made a joke of ComStar’s neutrality (the idea Hanse Davion couldn’t guess where over a thousand Star League-era battlemechs had come from was laughable), and had emptied stockpiles that the ComGuards could have made good use of with their expansion.
“As I understand it, you don’t plan to prop them up against the Davions if there’s another war,” asked the new Precentor Luthien.
“Not in the same way, no. But let’s be honest, Kappa does more medical work for civilians in the Combine than they do in all the other Successor States combined. Things like that are freeing up their resources for military affairs, whether we intend it or not.”
The historian frowned. “And that’s how you want us to be elsewhere.”
“We’re not just the heirs of the Ministry of Communications,” Wei told him. “We’re also what’s left of the Star League Defense Forces and the Bureau of Star League Affairs. Overthrowing their governments isn’t my intention, but if the Successor Lords are so negligent that we wind up replacing them by default then that’s their problem.”
Imperial City, Luthien
Pesht District, Draconis Combine
2 August 3046
“I hope,” Minoru’s father said, “That you can tell me more about ComStar’s new Primus than the ISF could.”
Fortunately for the fifteen year old, he wasn’t the one being asked that. His father had quasi-invited him (an order in all but name) to sit in on the meeting. It was a learning experience for him, necessary for the third in line to the Dragon throne - even if he could think of many other things he’d rather be doing before his departure for Sun Zhang Military Academy, on distant New Samarkand.
The only thing Minoru Kurita could have told his father about Primus Wei Rong, other than her name and office, was that even the robes of the Primus didn’t disguise a figure that belonged in adult entertainment. And he was fairly sure that Theodore Kurita, the Gunji-no-Kanrei of the Draconis Combine (deputy for military affairs, an innocuous term for the supreme military commander of the nation) had noticed those. That.
Constance Kurita - a cousin of sorts who had been ‘Auntie’ when Minoru was younger - smiled and lifted her tea cup. “Unfortunately, the recent upheaval in ComStar has reduced our access to information within the Order.”
“Was that the goal?” Theodore asked sharply.
The Keeper of House Honor shook her head slightly. “I think it is unlikely. ROM lacks the subtlety of the ISF - whereas Subhash’s people would trim and cultivate an enemy spy network to report only what he desired, ComStar’s policy is always root them out thoroughly.” Constance sipped from her cup. “Our presence is reduced, but not eliminated - and the pattern of losses does not suggest that they missed connections linking our agents. It appears to be an unfortunate happenstance.”
Minoru’s father nodded. “That’s something.”
“And we do have some information. I imagine the ISF did mention that she isn’t from Terra.”
“New Canton.”
Minoru needed a moment to place the world. It had been on the Capellan border with the Free Worlds League for decades, only to fall unexpectedly to the Federated Suns invasion in 3028. Or 3029… he wasn’t sure which year exactly. It wasn’t that important a world strategically. What else did he know…? “Wasn’t there a massacre there during the invasion.”
His father frowned for a moment. “Yes. Davion mercenaries murdered several defeated Liao soldiers before AFFS regulars stopped them. It damaged the Screaming Eagles’ reputation severely - there’s some thought Davion staged it to win the world’s populace over. Casting his soldiers as their protectors…” He made a dismissive gesture. “It’s not beyond him, but I doubt the mercenaries would have willingly seen themselves disgraced.”
“While it may or may not have endeared the Fox to the people of New Canton, the event does not seem to have convinced young Rong Wei that her future lay with the Federated Commonwealth,” Constance mused. “She joined ComStar three years later, when she was just sixteen.”
“That would make her younger than Waterly was when she took office,” mused Theodore, lifting his own teacup. “Ambitious? Driven? The ISF said as much but had nothing to back it up.” he paused. “Rong Wei, not Wei Rong?”
“For ComStar purposes, she uses wider usage of placing her family name last but New Canton’s custom is the more traditional order of placing family first.”
Even we don’t do that, nor do the Liaos, thought Minoru. House Kurita and House Liao both traced their ancestry to Asia, where that tradition had been most common.
“In answer to your question,” Constance continued, “We think not. She earned two doctorates in rapid succession - psychology and history - which marked her out for advancement. By the age of twenty-three she was a Precentor, which is certainly a rapid rise, but our sources suggest that she wasn’t being considered for further advancement.”
“Why not?” asked Minoru curiously. That was a spectacular rise, by his understanding of ComStar’s hierarchy.
“Personal clashes and political differences with Waterly,” his cousin told him. “Waterly apparently had high hopes for her, but their first meeting went very poorly. The late Primus represented the religious side of ComStar, and their traditional rivals have always held the view that ComStar should concern themselves more with the commercial side of their business. Rong was not in sympathy with that view, but it seems she also disagreed with Waterly. It appears her view of ComStar is more of a socialist one - pragmatic socialism, but socialism nonetheless. She’s also a New Hedonist.”
Minoru had no idea what that meant and it must have shown.
“Drink, ****** and be happy, tomorrow we may die,” his father clarified. “A very popular view in the Magistracy of Canopus - is that why she was sent there?”
“Precisely. The position had fallen vacant unexpectedly, and Precentor Mori suggested assigning Rong there - a round peg for a round hole, not to mention putting her as far as was practical from Terra. Waterly wasn’t willing to embarrass herself by dismissing Rong without any cause and investigation hadn’t turned anything up…”
“So she’s either kept her hands clean or she’s very good…” mused Theodore. “You don’t believe that she orchestrated the entire coup.”
“She’d have had to be playing a very deep game and there’s no signs that she has a cadre of prepared people to support her,” Constance concluded. “It’ll be fascinating to see how long she lasts as Primus - I wouldn’t be at all surprised if she stood down after the politics have stabilized. There’s no clear successor as things stand though.”
“ComStar in disarray doesn’t really help us,” the Gunji-no-Kanrei muttered. “Waterly held her nose when she helped us but it was better than no support at all.”
Minoru also frowned in thought. “How long can she last if she has no supporters within ComStar?”
“She isn’t entirely isolated. Focht backs her, so she has a preponderance of military might. While Focht could probably have swayed some of the ComGuards against their commander, right now he has nearly exclusive backing from them. And he’d not wish to lose another Primus under his watch.”
Theodore nodded. “Agreed.”
“Certain of my analysts have suggested that she may be a figurehead for the Precentor-Martial,” Constance added. “I am… unconvinced, but it would be difficult for him to step directly in as Primus. There is no tradition of electing someone who hasn’t headed an HPG station, and usually from within the First Circuit. Rong is already an outlier in the latter regard.”
Minoru glanced at his father but saw that Theodore was amused. “Those analysts cannot know Focht then. Such a strategy would not fit his character.”
“You know him?”
Both the elders looked at Minoru in a way that made it clear that this was not something to explore further, then his father relaxed. “I recommended him to Waterly - knowing he would never be an ally to me but might serve our interests well in propping up her ambitions for a more powerful ComGuards. He is very much what your grandfather thought of me when he appointed me as Gunji-no-Kanrei: a military mind without political aptitudes. Focht is an object lesson that I try not to emulate.”
“And yet, you have made your office political,” he pointed out. “Is it possible that Focht has learned the same lesson.”
Theodore sat back and examined Minoru. “Unlikely,” he said at last, but glanced over at Constance. “But all things are possible to some degree. My son makes a good point.”
“And her choices for the First Circuit do reflect greater status for the ComGuards - two of them have experience there.” She looked thoughtful. “It is possible they are being groomed as replacements if she is intractable. I don’t believe it’s likely, but we will look into it.”
“In the meantime, I have instructed the ISF to see what Justin Xiang Allard uncovers about the new Primus,” Theodore observed. “Hanse Davion must be even more curious about her, so we will let his spymaster do the work of digging up data for us. Let any consequences of such investigation fall on our enemies, not on us.”
-
Callandra, Babylon
Pentagon Worlds, Clan Homeworlds
21 December 3046
“Neg.” The young woman gave him a measuring look and then shook her head. “I do not trust you, Ace.”
Chris had never expected the misunderstanding over his name to last but Blake Hawker had put it on his official report, and Chris hadn’t the least idea how or if that could be changed. So now he was Ace. It took some getting used to.
“Have I given you cause to think I would betray you, Val?”
She shrugged. “There are members of our sibko who I am quite sure would turn on me if I accepted the offer to turn our Trial of Position into a melee, but you are not one of them.”
“Then…”
“But you are also not one of those I sure would not see me as an easy target to get one kill. You have only been training with us for half a year.” Val shrugged. “And your performance has not been impressive. Even if you did not turn on me, you might prove to be a liability. I see no point in taking the risk.”
Ace crossed his arms across his chest. “I have killed warriors before.”
She gave him another look. “Your past as a bandit does not speak for your integrity.”
“None of us choose our birth!”
“Enough,” Val snapped. “I have declined your bid. Be glad I even heard you out.”
He clamped his jaw. “Very well. I hope you regret it.”
“I am sure you do,” she retorted at his back as Ace walked away and continued doing his stretches. They were the last pair from their sibko to take their Trial, waiting in a small building as the remains of the previous duo were removed.
Physically removed. Apparently, both Clyde and Falko had died in their ‘mechs. Falko was the only one who had managed to score a kill, before his second opponent hit the cockpit. Clyde hadn’t even done that well.
At least, Ace thought, those two had managed to get to their ‘mechs. That was the final stage of the trial, but just to get to it the Diamond Sharks required cadets to swim across a river. Antonia, a girl he’d hoped to be paired with hadn’t reached the other side - word had been sent beforehand to settlements downstream to watch out for cadets who were washed away, in case they survived.
Ace couldn’t help but think that having even two Elementals in the water would have ensured the survival of Antonia and those like her. She was a smart girl - she’d even given him some pointers on where to find the books he needed to fill gaps in his understanding of what was being talked about in class, in exchange for his help in the workshop classes - Antonia had sometimes had difficulty translating her theoretical understanding of subjects into reality. He didn’t think she’d make a good technician even if she survived. She certainly wasn’t going to get warrior status now.
Inhaling slowly, he held the breath in and let it pass out. Felt his heartbeat steady.
This was not the time to be thinking about others. This was his Trial of Position. The chance he’d bet everything on, to be a warrior in Clan Diamond Shark.
To be a warrior at all - because this was the only chance he could see since they attacked that would let him hold onto that.
Get across the river. Win against one of the three opponents waiting… and he’d be a warrior.
Two victories would be better - he’d be able to rank as a Star Commander. Not a common accomplishment for those not bred in the iron wombs.
And if he made a clean sweep of them… Star Captain. Almost as high as it was plausible to rise - and to do so on your first Trial was an exceptional accomplishment.
Truthfully, he hungered for that. To leap up and show the Diamond Sharks that he wasn’t just a bandit who had lucked into their ranks. To have their respect… or at least their fear.
But one thing at a time. Each step from here to there was a simple one and had little impact on the next. Oh, he’d want to avoid damage if he could to be better able to beat the next opponent, but taking damage you could avoid was never wise anyway.
The river. Get past that first. If he was swept away… well, too bad. If not, then he could worry about fighting.
There was a slam as the door to the room was opened. “It is time,” Instructor Baracus declared flatly. “Step outside.”
Vale was at the door first. Ace didn’t contest her for the ‘honor’ of exiting first, squaring his shoulders and then following her outside.
It was cold - they were in the north of Babylon and the local season matched very closely with the Terran standard season - based, for reasons Ace hadn’t been able to find out, on the northern hemisphere. There were no trees near the river, the local vegetation was little different from that at the training camp further to the south - mostly moss and low shrubs that could resist the heavy winds. Ace’s jumpsuit kept him fairly warm, but his cheeks and hands already stung a little in the wind.
Baracus studied them for a moment. “You have been briefed on what to do,” he reminded them. “But not why. Diamond Sharks are not merely killers - we must also think and calculate. To understand the data in our possession. Tell me, Val. Why do we require freeborn cadets to swim like this, when trueborn warriors do not?”
“Because we are not trueborn. By taking a place in the touman, we deny a trueborn the chance to prove their worth for the next generation. We must prove ourselves better.”
The old warrior gave no indication whether he agreed or disagreed. He just turned to Ace. “You have had less time to prepare. Are you afraid?”
“Yes,” he said honestly.
Val spat on the ground but Baracus shrugged. “Most freeborn are. But what are you afraid of?”
Ace gave him a challenging look. “Failure.”
“Not death.” The instructor concluded. “This is a poor test for you. The cold of the river is to give cadets a taste of death, before they face that in the trial by combat. But you have felt death already, as most of our trueborn cadets do. We tell them less of what they will face in the trial, to make them face the unknown - as freeborn cadets have already done by entering the warrior caste.”
“Is that a problem?”
“Neg.” Baracus smiled for the first time, white teeth against his black skin. “Clan law dictates only the trial between warriors. The rest is custom. All Clans have their own ways.” He raised his hand and waved towards the river. “You may begin.”
Ace blinked, but Val darted for the water.
“Are you giving up?” Baracus asked him calmly.
Ace broke into a run, chasing after Val and swearing inside his head. Why were there always mind-games?
By the time he reached the water, the other cadet was already knee deep and splashing out to the point that she would be able to swim. The first step into the river had water soak into Ace’s boot, chilling him already. He slowed from a run to a deliberate walk. He hadn’t watched the others’ tests, just heard the results, but just looking at the river he could tell it would have a shallower shore on this side and get deep further on. Falling here would probably mean a painful impact with the stoney riverbed.
Val dove forwards and began swimming, a fast crawl over the width of the river. Ace kept wading, keeping upright as long as he could, hoping the better traction against the riverbed - as well as having his upper body out of the cold water - would pay off.
Unfortunately this didn’t seem to be the case and the gap widened and widened until, the water almost up to his own arm-pits, Val caught hold of a shrub on the far bank and started pulling herself up and out of the river. She’d been swept fifty or so yards down the river, but she’d made it.
I’ve lost the race, Ace thought coldly, almost as cold as the water around him. Alright. Don’t make a fuss, accept it and move on. I don’t have to win to pass, I just need to get across. We’re not being timed.
He looked across the river at the two omnimechs that were waiting. Low-slung Novas - turned back on so that he couldn’t see their armament from here. Older omnimechs, but nonetheless omnimechs. The Diamond Sharks did not stint in giving cadets the chance to prove themselves with frontline equipment, even if freeborn warriors might never get another chance at using them.
Then Ace dug his toes in, pushed himself forward and rolled over onto his back. The river had already been tugging him downstream, now he had no traction to block that - only the pressure against his left side so that he knew roughly what direction he was going on.
Not being able to see anything but the sky was disorientating, but his limited swimming experience had taught him that this was the best way to keep his mouth above the water, leaving him able to gulp down air. Drinking the cold river water if he got his timing wrong while swimming face forwards would be disastrous.
The entire process was disorientating, and he felt himself going numb as he kicked his legs and sculled with his arms, trying to angle himself against the current. He had no idea how long it took before his hands hit mud and came away with a handful of soft, wet soil.
Ace rolled again, settled down on his knees and then almost rolled again as the river kept pushing at him. He threw his arms out, grabbed for something - anything - on the bank and dug his hands into the mud. Eventually, with what seemed like herculean effort, he dragged himself up and out of the water.
Lying on the grassy bank, he panted for air. No rush, was there?
Or was there? Presumably they wouldn’t wait forever. He’d get up in a moment.
Just a moment.
He’d catch his breath and…
With a groan he threw his legs to one side and rode that moment up to get onto his front. Arms down, push himself upright and Ace was moving again.
One of the Novas was already in motion. Val had got even further ahead of him. He could see the ‘mech’s arms now - each ended in an articulated hand, surrounded by half-a-dozen muzzles. A Nova Prime - the most common payload. Twelve medium lasers - enough firepower to tear through the frontal armor of almost anything on the battlefield, if you could concentrate the firepower. Much like the Hunchback IIC he’d fought, it prioritized firepower - but using all twelve lasers at once would overwhelm the cooling system, almost surely shutting down the reactor. That meant a choice between using only a few lasers at a time or making sure that your barrage was truly decisive.
He scrambled up the slope towards the other Nova. It would have to be another variant, there would be no point presenting a choice if there wasn’t a difference. Not that he had a choice in whether or not he took it.
No hands, he realized as he reached the ‘mech. Each arm ended in a single muzzle - and they were both relatively short and stubby - so it was the next most common configuration, the Nova A with an Extended Range PPC in each arm. The torso would have a pulse laser for back-up, but more importantly it had a pair of anti-missile system.
“Thanks, Val,” he gasped out, leaning against the leg. The prime configuration was the ideal for a Clan warrior, with effectively three times the firepower… but if he’d had the choice then he’d rather have the A-configuration. The extra range would be useful, and the anti-missile systems would be useful for survivability. Important if he managed to fight through more than one opponent.
Still dripping mud, Ace pulled himself up the handholds built into the leg, careful not to slip, and hauled himself up to the cockpit hatch. Fortunately it had been left open for him. Or for Val, if she’d chosen this.
He almost tumbled into the seat, landing with his feet up on the inactive consoles. Drawing them back, Ace straightened himself and started plugging the coolant cables and medical sensors in. It wouldn’t be a good idea to mix them up - firing two Extended Range PPCs would be brutal in terms of heat, so having coolant fluid cycling through his mechwarriors jumpsuit’s tiny capillaries was vital.
Of course, until he had some heat going, the sensation of cold liquid, thicker than it would be when warm, pressed against him was alarmingly like the swim. Ace thumbed the reactor switch and pulled on the neurohelmet, much lighter than the one he’d used in his mother’s Griffin. Tightening the chin-strap, he could see systems lighting up one after the other on the diagnostics.
“Reactor, online,” the computer reported. “Sensors, online.” A tactical map popped up, icons marking in red the opposition prepared for he and Val. Five in red… where was the sixth? Then he realised that there was no blue marker for the other cadet. Had she been defeated already? In that case, she must have managed one kill - if she was alive then she had her desire: she was a warrior. “Weapons online,” the automated voice reported. And then: “All systems, nominal.”
The controls were live in Ace’s hands and he kicked the Nova into motion, feeling the heat of the reactor beneath and behind him, the chill of the coolant fading as it reached something closer to his body-temperature.
Two of the five enemy ‘mechs were withdrawing - presumably Val’s opponents. In the absence of a general melee, they would play no further role. That left him facing a Thresher, a Stormcrow and a Wyvern. Two battlemechs and an Omnimech. The Wyvern was the lightest, slower than the Nova, almost as well armored and with a mixed armament useful at almost every range. It was also moving forwards, clearly nominating itself as his first adversary.
That was customary, but Ace guessed that the Stormcrow would be the most dangerous of the three. If he was going to fight any of them with his full armor, then the fast, deadly omnimech would be the one. And right now, holding back it wasn’t really taking him seriously. After all, the Wyvern was the one he had to fight first.
But until shots were exchanged, that wasn’t established. Under zellbrigen, the traditional code of conduct for Clan warriors, there was still a chance for Ace to impose his own order on the battlefield. Opening the throttle, he pushed the Nova forwards suddenly, disrupting the Wyvern’s attempt to get a weapons lock on him. The Stormcrow didn’t react immediately, perhaps feeling that it didn’t have to - he was still outside what was normally considered effective range for their weapons.
But effective range and actual reach were two different things - particularly against someone who wasn’t taking evasive action. Ace dialed up the magnification of his visual display and moved the crosshairs over the bird-like Omnimech’s cockpit - conveniently near its centre of mass.
He fired each of the ER PPCs as it crossed the mark, two beams of blazing charged particles crossing the distance to the enemy OmniMech in a fraction of a second.
One of the beams missed, sizzling past the Stormcrow with less than a meter to spare.
But the other hit right on the frontal canopy. At this range it had dispersed and the energy transfer was only sixty or seventy percent of its full power…
But that was more than enough to sear through the armor glass and incinerate the mechwarrior inside.
“One down,” Ace muttered to himself as the Stormcrow toppled gracefully over. The air inside the cockpit was warm, but it was nothing compared to what the Griffin he was accustomed to had subjected him to.
“Inbound missiles,” the computer reported dispassionately, and he heard the anti-missile systems chatter, hurling flechettes up and at the inbound warheads. Explosions wreathed the Nova briefly as the Wyvern engaged him, but most of them were missiles detonating short of him. Of more concern was the Wyvern’s large laser, which carved a trench across one shoulder. The armor diagram went from the green of undamaged to orange in an instant - one more hit there of that magnitude would likely cause serious damage.
Ace slammed his feet down on the jumpjets, hurling the Nova skywards on a column of fire. To spare himself some heat, he only fired the right-most PPC, firing down at an angle at the Wyvern, which was swinging sideways to try to evade return fire from the ground.
The shot didn’t connect with the head-mounted cockpit, sparing the mechwarrior the death his comprade had suffered. But it did smash into the Wyvern’s right shoulder, shattering armor plating from the joint right down to the elbow. The arm jerked spasmodically, myomers contracting and extending wildly as the electrical charges bled through it.
More missiles arched upwards towards Ace as he landed the Nova, expending some the last plasma built up for them to half-turn him. He landed off balance, the Nova staggering before its large, flat feet were properly under it. But that didn’t stop clouds of flechettes from being hurled upwards from the anti-missile systems, cutting more than half the missiles away before they could hit him.
Ace backed away, keeping half an eye on the charge indicator for his jumpjets. The temperature inside the Nova was dropping down from the yellow range but he decided not to push his luck and fired again, this time with the PPC in his right arm.
The Wyvern mechwarrior threw up the damaged right arm to block the shot, sacrificing the limb in order to protect the core of his ‘mech.
It worked, after a fashion, but it also cost the Diamond Shark warrior one of only two long-range weapons he had. And the other was a single LRM launcher - something that the anti-missile systems could reduce to almost total uselessness.
Ace fired his jumpjets again, throwing the Nova backwards and away from the Wyvern. From here it would be a matter of playing keep away, punching away at the Wyvern from beyond its effective ability to retaliate - an echo of how he had similarly dealt with Blake Hawker.
“Enough.”
For a moment, he thought he was imagining the Diamond Shark Star Captain’s voice.
But then: “He has you - this is how he fights, quiaff?”
“Star Captain…” Ace didn’t know the woman’s voice, but he could recognise that she was reluctant to commit either way.
“Aff, Star Commander. Do not be ashamed.” Ace’s tactical computer pinpointed the source: the Thresher that was closing in behind the Wyvern. “He has defeated me in a similar way. That is how he earned his place here.”
Ace kept bounded backwards again, but the Wyvern slowed its advance, lagging back to leave it outside of easy reach. Although unlike the Stormcrow pilot, she was still moving evasively in case he tried for an opportunistic extreme range shot again.
“Are you ordering me to concede, Star Captain?”
“Neg. Fight if you believe you can win. But if continuing to fight is simply wasting the Clan’s resources…”
Ace let the Nova finishing cooling, moving only evasively.
“Cadet,” the woman announced. “I recognise my defeat. I have bid poorly and will not prolong this.”
He eyed the two battlemechs and then activated his own transmitter. “Star Commander, I offer hegira. You are an honorable adversary. Perhaps in the future we will fight together against our Clan’s rivals.”
“I doubt that,” she replied. “Being forced to accept hegira by a freeborn cadet will mar my codex forever.”
The Wyvern turned sharply and began stalking away, its gait not so smooth as it had been earlier. Still, at least she was returning to the repair bays under her own power.
“It has been some time, cadet.” Blake Hawker moved his Thresher closer, but kept his weapons not quite aimed at Ace’s Nova. “Neg… I err. It has been some time, Star Commander.”
Ace felt a warm feeling at the recognition. “Thank you, Star Captain. I would not have had this opportunity without you.”
“Aff. You would not. And that reflects on my own codex. Do not think that I sent Tomori away to spare you. Only because you are my problem and I must contain the damage you are causing.”
“Damage? I… do not understand.” Ace’s mind raced. He hadn’t considered for a second that Blake was here for anything beyond fighting him as the one of the opponents for the trial. And no doubt the Star Captain would fight as hard as he could - indeed, perhaps desiring a rematch against Ace. But this spoke of something more.
The bloodnamed Star Captain laughed bitterly. “I have been educated since our first meeting. My defeat against you is only a shame to me. One that I can perhaps live down in the future if I secure further victories. But by admitting you to Clan Diamond Shark, by giving an upstart bandit the chance to fight as one of us? That disgraces my Clan, my bloodhouse… and my Khan.”
The Thresher began to walk forwards. “Thus I am relegated to this obsolete battlemech. Thus, I am ordered to ensure that your career ends here. If you had had the good grace to fail, you could have lived on in obscurity. But now I must end you.”
Ace gritted his teeth. “So that is how it really is. So much for the honor of Clan Diamond Shark.”
“There is no deception here,” Blake Hawker told him. “Battle, as always, will be the final argument. Kill me, and no one will question the outcome. But if you cannot kill me then rest assured, I will not give you a second chance.”
“Until someone else is assigned to get rid of me.”
“Defeat me and you will be a Star Captain. And you will have bested more than three times the tonnage of your own ‘mech. That has its own distinction, which you should have been taught.”
“Deathstrike!” Ace exclaimed. The Deathstrike Award, a medal granted only to Diamond Shark warrior who had - as Blake said - defeated such steep odds in a single battle.
“Aff. A trueborn who has won that would almost certainly be posted to the Khan’s own galaxy. But even a freeborn warrior who has it will be too visible for anyone to take obvious action against you.”
“Win or die.”
Hawker chuckled darkly. “That is the way of the Clans. Only the mediocre believe otherwise.”
And then his targeting systems went live and the sixty-ton Thresher hurled itself towards Ace’s lighter ‘mech, weapons firing furiously as they came into range.
Ace was hardly caught off guard, but the Thresher was currently too fast to use his previous targets and thus he had little choice but to switch his approach.
The Thresher’s autocannon raged, tracer fire marking the path of shells tearing through the air towards Ace. He couldn’t quite dance aside, although he did avoid some of the fire. Craters formed across the Nova’s torso and one leg as he fired the PPCs one after the other, staggering the shots slightly.
Rather than trying anything complicated, he aimed for the broad front of the Thresher, the simplest center of mass shots. Both struck - one dead center of the chest, the second off to the left - under the autocannon mount.
Ace twisted the Nova, trying to avoid the Thresher’s lasers, not bothering to try to bring his own torso mounted laser to bear. He managed to evade one of the three, but Hawker’s mech had pulse lasers in each arm - accurate weapons that had a much more flexible range of fire due to their mounting.
Pulses of coherent light ripped away armor from the Nova’s right arm and he was lucky not to lose the capacitors for the PPC there entirely - as it was, the weapon would be charging more slowly after the shot that was already being charged up. More pulses burned into armor plating just below Ace’s cockpit, the energy transfer rattling the medium ‘mech and throwing him against his padded restraints.
The anti-missile systems did their usual work, swatting almost all the SRMs from the Thresher aside, and then Hawker was arching to one side, keeping the Nova in his optimum range while he prepared for a second barrage.
Perhaps he thought that Ace would try to open up the range, pitting his two ER PPCs against the single autocannon. If so, he was right to think that the Thresher’s accelerated myomers would be more than enough on this open ground to overcome any such efforts and Ace didn’t have the slightest intention of trying that.
Instead, the young mechwarrior dug the Nova’s feet into the ground and came to an abrupt halt, turning and folding the Nova’s legs beneath him. The bird-like limbs let him drop the ‘mech’s torso almost to the ground… and with a very stable firing platform he unleashed both ER PPCs at point blank range, aiming at one of the marks left by his earlier shots.
The Thresher’s full firepower crashed over and past the Nova without hitting, while the two particle beams both hammered right into the damage left beneath its autocannon, then through the armour and into the ammunition feeds.
With a roar of internal detonations, the heavier ‘mech was torn in two. The right arm went flying, the rest of the ‘Mech fell to one knee, missing half the chest and with the reactor shielding visibly compromised - even if the infrared signature soaring hadn’t been enough of a clue.
The cockpit, mounted near the left shoulder, had survived intact though. As had Blake Hawker, and as Ace waited for the PPCs to charge, one notably slower than the other, the Thresher pushed itself upright.
There were no last words. Hawker fired the two lasers left to him - the extended range laser in the chest carved across the armorglass of Ace’s cockpit, sending cracks across the transparent material while the pulse laser severed the right arm when Ace threw it up protectively.
And then Ace fired the PPC in his left arm and ripped through what was left of the Thresher’s reactor.
Star Captain Blake Hawker burned as the air around his ‘mech ignited.
Star Captain Ace added two more objectives to his little list of things to do. Survive. And take revenge.
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I can only wonder how these two threads will cross eventually... 8)
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Ver nice story update! I like how the new Primus Wei Rong is getting new people into positions of power that are not so Pro-Waterly. I liked how Star Captain Ace won his Trial of Position and I am looking forward to see which Dimond Shark unit he gets assigned too. I wonder if he will be able to take revenge on the person that ordered Blake Hawker to his death.
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Man, there is no universe in which Joe Buckley catches a break.
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The IFS bit about Justin Allard implies that they have a mole in MIIO, or just let the FC do the job while they concentrate their work on the FedComs?
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Ouch. Thats one talented ex-Bandit.
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I have to ask who Peter Maurice Hayman is?
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I have to ask who Peter Maurice Hayman is?
My uncle passed away on Thursday night.
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My uncle passed away on Thursday night.
My condolences.
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Nice continuation of this story, drakensis.
Also my condolences for your uncle's death as well.
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My uncle passed away on Thursday night.
My condolences.
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Condolences indeed. This is a fine tribute!
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Drakensis
Sorry for your loss, and thank you for the stories.
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Ace will have to work hard to survive though, his origins will ensure that he will have plenty of challenges from within the Clan and the outside. Also, his mother was trashborn, so in theory he has a right to a Bloodname, if the Clan she was originally from learns about this, they try their best to kill him. His upcoming learning curve will thus be even steeper than in the sibko, but he is a fast learner.
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Ace will have to work hard to survive though, his origins will ensure that he will have plenty of challenges from within the Clan and the outside. Also, his mother was trashborn, so in theory he has a right to a Bloodname, if the Clan she was originally from learns about this, they try their best to kill him. His upcoming learning curve will thus be even steeper than in the sibko, but he is a fast learner.
There´s a MechWarrior Ace in Phelan´s star of the 13th Wolf Guards during the Battle of Tukayyid. I wonder if this Ace is supposed to be that one; the Wolves in general and Natasha Kerensky in particular would certainly be more amenable to Ace being a warrior among them than his current clan.
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Drakensis, sorry to hear of your loss.
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My condolences on your uncle.
It's a good start; you have a good mix of small stakes action and high stakes politics that characterizes BattleTech.
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Sorry for your loss.
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My condolences on your family's and your loss.
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My condolences to you and your family.
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Sorry to hear of your loss, drakensis. My condolences to you and your family.
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I'm so sorry for your loss.
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Tag
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Sorry for you loss first.
Ace is going to be a ristar whether they like it or not and of course they make him hate his new clan rather than make him a asset. Those trueborn codex will not be marred save by fools as Ace proves himself again and again unless sabotaged. And the poor new Primus? I wonder how long before it slips out just what happened and what she is doing is trying to be true to Blakes original goals and also break up crazy power blocks and reform before poison concentrates again. She is functionally a God sent reformer that might actually save the organization.
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Opalescent Reflections
Dealer’s Choice
Chapter 2
Eagle Crater, New Kent
Kerensky Cluster, Clan Homeworlds
19 May 3047
Blue-white ‘mechs and gray-green ‘mechs were dancing, each having picked a partner to duel with as the Trial of Possession began.
Ace had expected this, it was exactly what his training on Babylon had described, but he couldn’t help but feel it bore little resemblance to the tactics described in the SLDF manuals he’d reach back at the Castrum. That wasn’t an observation that he should probably share with his fellow officers though, quiaff?
Aff, he thought and speared another Elemental with a shot from one of his PPCs.
He’d bid thirteen of the ‘mechs in Echo Trinary to protect the mineral shipment, along with four points of elementals. The Steel Vipers trying to take it off them had only brought twelve omnimechs, but they had a full six points of Elementals with them and the armored infantry were swarming past the defenders - no one could seriously expect infantry to take on ‘mechs in single combat and the outnumbered Diamond Shark elementals couldn’t contain the threat.
In response, Ace had let his other Mechwarriors take on the duels - led by Star Commander Tomori. Having a warrior he’d bested in his Trial of Position come under his command had been… an interesting challenge. From her point of view, being sent to Lambda Spina Galaxy’s Fifteenth Cruiser Cluster was a step down but from Ace’s it was better than being sent to one of the garrison Clusters like Val and other freeborn graduates.
Tomori had experience he was eager to draw on. She’d fought and won the right to use one of the trinary’s Mad Dog omnimechs and was currently handling a Steel Viper Mad Dog very well. Ace picked off two of the Elementals trying to harass her with his PPCs. That was what seemed needed to deal with the infantry assault - his anti-missile systems meant that he could largely ignore their SRMs and as long as he kept mobile they couldn’t swarm over him at close range.
A Wyvern exploded and Ace spun his Nova - he’d kept what worked for him in the Trial of Position - as a Steel Viper Battle Cobra moved through to take advantage of winning its duel and take the pressure off the Elementals. Two particle beams lashed out at Ace, marking which configuration the smaller Omnimech was in. One of them raked along the side of the Nova’s torso and his displays flickered as the electromagnetic pulses of the beam disrupted his electronics briefly.
The other shot missed clean and Ace brought his own ER PPCs to bear, aiming slightly below the center mass, at where the paint of the Steel Viper’s Alpha Galaxy had already been scoured away by battle damage. The Battle Cobra was moving sluggishly - he suspected the cooling system simply wasn’t as much as was needed to deal with a pair of PPCs, unlike his own - and both shots bit into the waist ring that supported the more or less triangular torso.
The Battle Cobra’s left leg parted ways with the rest of the ‘mech and the Steel Viper warrior plowed facefirst into the snowy slopes.
Ace considered leaving it at that, but the Steel Viper was part of the Fourth Viper Guards, one of the most elite units in the Clan’s touman. New Kent was the Steel Viper touman and they periodically took offense at the fact that other Clans had enclaves on the world. Deploying elements of Lambda Galaxy here had been intended to deter another round of that - if the Vipers got no traction when they probed the Shark enclave, they were unlikely to double down.
Seeing the Battle Cobra trying to prop itself up with one arm, to engage with the PPC in the other arm, Ace took advantage of its relative immobility and fired both PPCs again, severing the arm being used for support. The forty ton omnimech slammed into the snow again, which was already melting under the heat being radiated, and this time the mechwarrior took the hint and shut their reactor down, the traditional sign of surrender.
Other ‘mechs were beginning to fall. Ace blew an Elemental apart as they tried to breach the cockpit of Mechwarrior Alexander’s Griffin - a far more advanced ‘mech than those that Ace and his mother had once possessed. No longer distracted, Alexander was able to salvo his LRMs into one of the Steel Vipers’ Viper Omnimech - a fast moving but lightly armed and armored design that had ferried in some of the Elementals. The Viper’s torso was ripped open and it pulled back out of range.
“Alexander, handle the Elementals on the right flank,” Ace ordered as he saw the Griffin turn to try to engage a Mad Dog. He turned his own Nova and fired both ER PPCs into a point trying again to swarm over Tomori. Only one of the beams struck, but the other four Elementals broke off their attack, well aware that Ace would tear them apart given the chance.
“Acknowledged,” Alexander responded in an offended tone, but he obeyed and the Griffin swung out, lasers and LRMs tearing into a fight that was now just beginning to turn in the favor of the Diamond Sharks. Adding a ‘mech to that flank sent the Steel Viper Elementals into retreat - none of Alexander’s arsenal could tear through an Elemental suit with one shot the way Ace’s PPCs could, but most of the Elementals had taken enough damage that they had to honor the threat.
The Steel Viper Mad Dog didn’t take well to being ignored and tried to follow Alexander but Tomori’s opponent slumped to the ground, both torso mounted missile launchers pounded to wreckage by the Gauss Rifles she’d equipped on her own Mad Dog. Without prompting, the Star Commander turned to cover Alexander - exactly as Ace had been about to order.
A good subordinate was invaluable, he concluded.
Seven Steel Viper ‘mechs were still fighting, against nine Diamond Sharks - and the elementals on his right flank were winning now that they had Alexander’s Griffin backing them up.
Alexander turned his attention to the left flank and walked PPC fire along the Elemental forces trying to break past his own Elementals. One - two - three - four. Only one of the shots missed and an already depleted Point was reduced to one survivor, opening up the chance for Point Commander Olaf to rush forward with two survivors of his own force to outflank the survivors.
“Star Captain, the enemy commander is breaking bid,” came a warning on the command channel.
Ace fired his jumpjets to avoid any incoming fire and opened up his tactical display. There were Steel Viper ‘mechs - the rest of the Fourth Viper Guards - up on the ridge overlooking the battle. In the other direction, the rest of the Fifteenth Cruiser Cluster were doing the same.
Nothing on the ridge seemed to be moving. “Star Colonel, I do not see anything.”
“We have their codes,” Star Colonel Ulna Oshika informed him. She sounded amused. “Now they are arguing over the decision.”
Ace rolled his eyes. “Can you inform me what they will commit if their Star Colonel approves, quiaff?”
“Aff. It is the Star Colonel you are facing,” Ulna told him, all but laughing. “Congratulations, Star Captain. You are exceeding expectations. An additional eight ‘mechs will be committed.”
In the same situation, Ace would only have the other two ‘mechs of his trinary but also nine more points of elementals - his original bid of one trinary of each. This wasn’t good. It would take a while for the elementals to arrive, much longer than it would take the Steel Viper ‘mechs.
“Star Colonel,” he requested as the Nova landed and he turned towards the fight. “Please move Beta Trinary forward twenty meters.”
“You did not bid Beta Trinary,” the Star Colonel reminded him.
“I know. I just want them… out of the path of my reinforcements. You will approve my breaking my own bid if the Steel Vipers do, quiaff?”
There was a pause and then Ulna did laugh. “Aff, Star Captain. If they do.”
“Star Captain, I am unable to keep fighting.” Mechwarrior Fritz was back-pedaling his Rifleman away from a Steel Viper Hellbringer. Both the arms of the blue-and-white Rifleman were missing.
Ace didn’t see anyone else who could step in and moved forwards himself. “Shut down, Fritz. I have this.” With reinforcements impending from both sides, they couldn’t afford to let someone breakthrough.
The Hellbringer’s armour had been slashed up by the Rifleman’s pulse lasers, but it opened fire on Ace with its Gauss Rifle and autocannon as he moved to intercept it. The hypersonic metal slug of the gauss rifle slammed into the Nova’s hip, throwing him off his pace, but slowing him enough that the shells from the autocannon missed.
In return Ace fired first his right ER PPC and then followed up with a shot from the left. The first shot smashed into the Hellbringer’s chest, tearing open some of the structural beams holding the ‘mech together, but the second caught the gauss rifle’s capacitors, which exploded under the charged particles. Lightning crackled up and around the right side of the sixty-five ton Omnimech.
That only left the Hellbringer with its autocannon and the SRM launchers on the right shoulder. The missiles weren’t in range yet, but there were enough of them that they might overwhelm Ace’s anti-missile system. He ducked back, staying out of SRM range and aiming for the Hellbringer’s remaining shoulder with the PPC in his right arm.
The Steel Viper dodged and the particle beam went high, obliterating a searchlight mounted above the shoulder. Its return fire obliterated the silver diamonds marking Ace’s kills so far, but didn’t do much more than shred paint.
Ace fired his jumpjets and then, from the apogee of his jump, he dropped the crosshairs over the center of the Hellbringer and fired both PPCs. The thermal signature of the Nova surged and he saw amber lights marking that the myomers were at the point that he wouldn’t have full mobility.
It was a moot point when it came to the Hellbringer. Both beams hit the chest and ripped through the reactor and gyro assembly. Reeling drunkenly, the heavier ‘mech finally tumbled backwards and cooled down as the reactor shut down.
From his landing spot, Ace ducked the Nova down and looked for the Steel Viper reinforcements. Nothing seemed to be moving in.
“Warriors of Clan Diamond Shark,” a man declared over the open channel. “I recognise your victory and we withdraw our claim upon the mineral shipment.”
It wasn’t the same Steel Viper officer who had commanded the original force - Star Colonel Grimaldi, presumably - so who was this?
“Warriors of Clan Steel Viper,” Ace replied on the same channel. “You may withdraw from the field with honor if you are able, and if not you will find a place as bondsmen of Clan Diamond Shark.”
“Andrews, you traitor!” Grimaldi shouted.
“Strong words from a Diamond Shark bondsman,” the first man declared. “You have been defeated, Soren Grimaldi - and I see no reason to grant your request for reinforcements.”
So this is why they aren’t moving, Ace realized. Andrews is ridding himself of his commander, declining him support. I might find myself on the receiving end of this someday - better watch my back.
“If you cannot defeat a second-line unit, Grimaldi, you are unfit to lead us,” Andrews continued. “No doubt their commander will be highly honored for defeating the Fourth Viper Guards, while your legacy will be disgraced.”
Ace watched the Steel Vipers pulling back. So this was victory - it felt rather empty when it was as much due to enemy infighting as his own efforts. He looked down at the man climbing out of the cockpit of the Hellbringer. “Who was that backstabbing surat?” he asked on his speakers, focusing his external audio sensors on the man.
The Star Colonel slumped against what was left of his ‘mech. “Star Captain Brett Andrews. And who is it who has taken me as their bondsman.”
“Star Captain Ace, of Clan Diamond Shark.”
The man looked startled. “You are unblooded? What bloodhouse claims you?”
That was an interesting question. His mother was trueborn, so as a maternal descendent Ace would presumably be able to claim membership of one of the Burrock bloodhouses. He should probably find out which one. “I have no idea.”
“...freebirth…” the Star Colonel swore. He reached up to his helmet and tapped something. “Andrews,” he sneered, voice going out on the channel. “I may never see you again, but at least you have shown your qualities. You feared to engage an unblooded freebirth commander. When the Sharks boast of this, you will be a laughingstock.”
“....impossible!” Andrews voice replied. “No freebirth could best our finest warriors!”
Grimaldi laughed. And then Ace saw that the man had drawn his sidearm. “I will face my shame, I hope you bear yours for years!”
Before Ace could even try to do anything about it (not that he could have done much while inside his cockpit), the Steel Viper officer jammed the muzzle of his sidearm into his mouth and pulled the trigger.
“Star Captain Andrews,” Ace said slowly, looking away from the dead man. “Star Colonel Grimaldi has chosen bondsref over service to Clan Diamond Shark.”
“...was what he said true? You are not freeborn, quineg?”
“Aff. I am freeborn.”
“I knew the Diamond Sharks were degenerates who allowed freebirth among their warriors. But to put one in command… it is unthinkable!”
Ace looked at the Steel Vipers, still withdrawing. “Failure to think is why you are in retreat, Star Captain… from a freeborn commander.”
Sandhurst Castle Brian, Europe
Terra, Sol System
12 February 3048
Anastasius Focht’s office was a refuge from the flood of displays and earnest staff of the main command center. Wei Rong took a moment to stretch and rub her eyes before looking around. She saw the Precentor-Martial stood to the side, politely indicating for her to go past him and take the seat behind the desk.
“Please don’t be ridiculous,” she told him lightly. “This is your office, not mine.”
“You remain my superior,” he said seriously.
Wei could imagine that Myndo Waterly would have disliked sitting in front of someone else’s desk, feeling she should not be subordinate to anyone. She gestured towards the three armchairs off to the side. “A compromise then?”
The Precentor Martial bowed his head slightly, and then insisted in pulling one of the chairs into position for her. They were of the (centuries old) modern style - stainless steel and padded faux-leather - but certainly a cut above the merely institutional. Wei doubted that the ComGuards budgeted had been strained by providing some comfort and she let Focht have his way in this.
“I hope you found the presentation informative,” he said seriously once he was sitting facing her.
“I understood perhaps half of it,” Wei admitted. “Maybe less. At some point it sounded as the ComGuards are the fourth largest armed forces in the Inner Sphere. I assume I’m misunderstanding - we can’t possibly be able to afford that.”
Focht studied her seriously. “On a few narrow indices, yes, the ComGuards are between the Capellans and the Free Worlds League in military strength. But in others very much not.”
“I had a feeling that this would be complicated.” She gripped the arms of the chair. “This is something that I think I need to understand better.”
“The one way in which we might be said to be the largest military is the scope of our activities.” The Precentor Martial used his hands to describe a circle. “There are detachments of the ComGuards operating across the entire Inner Sphere and much of the near Periphery. Even excluding the support for the Explorer Corps’ missions into the deeper Periphery, that’s a larger scale of operations than anyone has attempted since the Star League Defense Force.”
Wei nodded. “Which isn’t a new thing, as I understand it. Our stations and enclaves have always needed protection against piracy.”
“Indeed. Pirates aren’t usually concerned about the prospect of being interdicted,” Focht confirmed. “Most HPG stations have had a Level II of mechanized infantry - four infantry Level I and two light tanks - since the early Second Succession War. Sometimes less for the more secure HPGs such as those on national capitals, but we need some security against local terrorists, protestors or simply difficult customers. That on its own is a huge commitment - there are over two thousand HPG stations, and including support personnel, it ties up almost half a million ComGuards personnel, which was the historical baseline of our manpower up until the 3030s.”
“Almost up until you took over,” Wei noted.
“The expansion began a few years before I joined the order. However, that deployment alone constituted the First and Second Level VI units.”
“Calling them levels must get confusing,” she said suspiciously. “Is that really what the troops call them?”
“On the paperwork.” Focht nodded. “In practise, we are quite tolerant of those calling a Level II unit a demi-company, and so on up through battalion, brigade, division and then army.”
“Which would be a Level VI - the units you mentioned earlier?”
“Correct. Each level increases the size of the unit by six. So six divisions, thirty-six brigades, two hundred and sixteen battalions… is a single Army.”
“And these days there are how many of these armies?”
“Four out of a projected five armies, if Primus Waterly’s plans are completed,” Focht admitted. “She projected the idea of four armies, each combining local security forces and a mobile striking force across a quarter of the Inner Sphere, with a fifth army stationed on Terra and the surrounding worlds to provide security and an operational reserve.”
“The numbers are daunting,” Wei admitted and then frowned. “How does that really compare to the forces of the Successor States though?”
“The usual comparison of strength between the States is the number of BattleMech regiments,” he told her. “Since the ComGuards don’t field regiments in the same way, it’s hard to provide an exact comparison but we have fifty brigades that are primarily built around Battlemechs and supporting forces, which would be about comparable to a regiment from most of the Great Houses.”
“Fifty. Compared to the Federated Commonwealth’s… two hundred? Two hundred and fifty?” Wei shook her head. “That’s insane. We can’t possibly afford that. They have a thousand worlds or so, we have Terra, Mars, Venus and a few hundred city-sized enclaves.”
Focht smiled. “The equipment costs would have been crippling to build up,” he admitted. “However, the vast majority of the heavy military equipment is from SLDF stockpiles. Limited military production was established under Jerome Blake and Conrad Toyama’s leadership to supplement that, and that supported the ComGuards for centuries.”
“And how deep are the SLDF stockpiles?” she asked.
“Largely expended,” he admitted. “That’s one of the primary concerns the ComGuards face at this time. Production of the Ost-series designs is continuing, but if the ComGuards were called on to fight a campaign, we we would struggle to replace battlefield losses. We can fight a campaign, and I believe that it would go very well, but we cannot absorb reverses and our technological level isn’t high enough for me to assure you that there would be no reverses.”
“In essence, all the capital is used up.” Wei shook her head. “And she wanted half again as much expansion? Where was the money coming from?”
“I’m afraid that would be a question you’d have to discuss with Phi Division’s accountants,” Focht told her. “Production has risen since I took over - for example, Leopard Armor has been shipping us new Merkava Mk VIs - heavy tanks,” he added when she gave him a blank look, “since we lost access to the Brutus.”
“Where were you getting heavy tanks before?” The Brutus sounded vaguely familiar, but her knowledge of military equipment didn’t really touch on anything newer than the 29th century.
“The Brutus was rejected by the Capellans for purchase in 2998, for no reason I’m aware of,” Focht told her. “We bought most of the production for thirty years, replacing worn out SLDF equipment for the relatively few heavy armor units we had until then. And then Epsilon Eridani fell to the Federated Suns, who adore the design and buy every unit they can.”
“I see. So we lack… sustainability for the ComGuards at the moment?”
“Routine consumables are under control,” he confirmed. “But even without adding a fifth army, some new sources of equipment would be needed. It would let us build up a stock of replacements, and honestly some of the SLDF equipment we inherited could do with refits to use parts that are more available. The Thugs are all using Tiegart PPCs that are entirely out of production… that’s just an example, but refitting them to use Donals would save us money and technician time in the long run.”
She leant back in her chair. The Thug was at least something she was familiar with. “So our options are…?”
He ticked them off on his fingers. “We can maintain the ComGuards at the current level, but there is a degree to which we’d be brittle if anything goes badly wrong. We can continue the expansion, which will essentially require competing with the Great Houses for their own military production -”
Wei could imagine exactly how well that would go. Waterly’s term of office had done nothing for relations with the Federated Commonwealth, and almost every other state in the Inner Sphere was doing everything they could to defend against any future attacks by the super-states. There was nowhere nearer than Taurus that might have a surplus - and there she’d be up against mercenary buyers facing the same challenge.
“- or building up a substantial military production within our limited territory, which would no doubt be expensive. Finally, we can largely maintain our current strength and take more limited steps to rationalize the ComGuards and make them more sustainable from ComStar’s resources.”
“I take it you prefer the latter option?” She wasn’t blind to how he’d kept the option that at least sounded as if it had the least downsides until last.”
“Most of our troops are relatively inexperienced,” Focht admitted. “Training can only do so much. Taking the time to rotate battalions for anti-pirate duties along the Periphery and work out the logistical issue of the last ten year’s expansion would give us a much better foundation. Unless we’re actively courting hostilities against a major power, that would be my recommendation.”
Wei sniffed. “I’d prefer we could be assured of no hostilities ever, but that’s not realistically. I’m not sure if Waterly thought she could somehow compete with the Armed Force of the Federated Commonwealth, but unless you’re telling me that securing our existing enclaves isn’t feasible I’m entirely happy to move towards sustaining the ComGuards.”
He tilted his head, examining her with his one eye. “Are you considering downscaling the ComGuards?”
Striking directly at his powerbase when he was one of the major reasons she was alive? Um, no she hadn’t developed a suicidal tendency. “There’s an argument to be made that we need some coherent striking force available in case of another situation such as the Sarna HPG attack in 3029.” And she didn’t need to mention that some of the files she’d found suggested that it had not actually been the AFFS that obliterated the HPG station. That was political dynamite.
“My first concern is that we have sufficient force to protect the enclaves we’re responsible for. After that, the humanitarian work and pirate hunting is doing a great deal to improve ComStar’s image,” she said. “I realize that’s probably not something the ComGuards really want to think about fighting for, but on some level we’re basically a corporate monopoly and no one really likes paying for services. Making sure we’re not seen as exploitative matters for our security.”
“It would be possible to do more,” Focht offered. “We currently hold our enclaves if a world is under attack and launch punitive attacks on pirate bases if they’re located. It would be possible to extend cooperation to help planetary militias against outside attacks that aren’t affecting our own enclaves.”
“It would be important to make sure it’s only against pirates, but I’m willing to explore that,” she agreed. “What do you feel is necessary to… you said to rationalize the supply chains?”
“There are a number of options, but at the moment I’d say that the highest priority would be a jump-capable medium ‘mech - something that can keep up with the Ostsols and Ostrocs we’re already building and has limited munitions demands. Ideally something that shares parts with an in production design so we can support them from local spare parts. Even with the ComStar merchant fleet, sometimes Terra is inconveniently far away.”
“That’s a very specific set of ideas, do you have a design in mind?”
Focht smiled slightly. “The Griffin is one of the most common medium ‘mechs around and some of our technical staff have dug up the chassis variant used by the SLDF Royal Command. If what they say is true, judicious use of Star League technology could turn that into something that meets the ComGuard’s needs. I don’t insist on that though.
Wei shook her head in amusement. “Well, if your staff can put together a list of the highest priorities - starting with that - and I’ll see what we can get out of the budget. But I can tell you for now that unless the First Circuit is massively in favor of doing so, I don’t think scaling the ComGuards up or down much is going to happen in the short term. If we can’t protect our enclaves with the forces you have already then the proper solution seems to be qualitative not quantitative.”
“I’m glad that we agree.” Focht saluted her gravely. “The ComGuards have always been a shield for ComStar and I only hope to make them more effective in that role - not a sword for someone’s ambitions.”
“You needn’t look to me for those,” Wei told him drily. “Unless we get a sudden collapse of central political authority in one of the Successor States, or some sort of crisis along the periphery, we already have all the enclaves we can manage.”
“A scenario such as that you describe in your doctoral thesis?” he enquired.
“You read it?”
The white-haired man nodded. “I found it an interesting perspective of the subject, but perhaps too broad an overview without specifics. Admittedly, covering events across the entire Inner Sphere might have been too much without turning it into a book.”
“That was my plan, but running a full enclave and then the diplomatic duties on Canopus IV took up all my time,” Wei admitted. “I still have my notes but it was hard to get the research materials from the archives when I was that far away from Terra.”
“Well, you’re back on Terra now,” he pointed out.
“I don’t have the free time to get laid, never mind write a book,” she complained and then realized that was too far. “Perhaps I’ll retire and get back to research - we’ve got through the last year and a half without the galaxy collapsing.”
“Do you see someone as having sufficient support to displace you?”
Wei fell silent for a moment. “Not anyone I’m entirely comfortable with,” she admitted. “In theory it would require an unanimous vote of the First Circuit to remove me, but in practical terms a sufficient majority would make it impossible for me to function as Primus. If Buckley manages to reconstruct Myndo’s support base, you might be dealing with a call for further expansion.”
Focht nodded. “I can’t advise you on political strategy, but that would certainly come with costs that Phi Division would object to.”
“The Precentor of Phi Division has no vote on the First Circuit,” she sighed. “Unfortunately.”
-
Novy Terra, Strana Mechty
Kerensky Cluster, Clan Homeworlds
21 June 3048
The doorway leading into the Council Chamber had narrow mirrors mounted on the walls to either side of it. Ace used the one on the left to check his uniform as he waited to be called. He hadn’t worn this since his graduation - there had been no particular need. It was blue and green with black trim, with the half-cape - surprisingly comfortable. The founders had clearly seen no reason to make it cumbersome, since it was very possible that someone might be called on to fight in it.
Ace had seen some warriors wearing the full ceremonial uniform earlier, and that looked much less practical. Presumably they’d been on their way here, to the center of the Clan’s government. He wasn’t sure what to think about the idea of wearing that himself one day.
The face he saw in the mirror asked him if he was sure about this, but it was too late to step back. Putting the petition in had been the point of no return. Even if someone acted to remove it from the agenda, doing this was a challenge to his superiors.
And as Blake Hawker told him, now he would have to win or die. Failure wouldn’t kill him immediately, but it would follow, without any doubt.
The double doors opened and an elemental in the full ceremonial garb towered over Ace. “Star Captain Ace of the Fifteenth Cruiser Cluster, quiaff?”
“Aff.”
“You are called before the Clan Council.” The man swept one arm commandingly and Ace walked past him and into the chamber beyond.
Tiered seating rose in a half-circle to his right, and ahead of him on a stage were throne-like seats for the Khans and the Loremaster. All three were occupied. And nearer to him was the small podium from which petitioners could speak, backed by a vast flatscreen covering almost the entire wall. Normally used for presentations, now it simply displayed the banner of Clan Diamond Shark.
“Our final petition,” Semi Kalasa announced from the loremaster’s throne. He’d never met her but she didn’t seem sympathetic or even interested. “Star Captain Ace, requesting leave of absence to attend a Trial of Bloodright hosted by Clan Burrock.”
Wait, that wasn’t right. Ace reached the podium and barely glanced at the ranked bloodnamed warriors of the Clan - seating for a thousand was about two-thirds full he thought. Many of the seats were occupied by holograms rather than living warriors though. Attending via telepresence because actually gathering so many senior officers in one place would bring parts of the Clan to a halt.
“A correction, Loremaster. To participate, not merely attend.”
“Know your place,” Kalasa snapped, holding up her datapad. “I know what I read.”
“And I know what I submitted,” Ace declared flatly. Something told him that showing hesitation here would be fatal. He had a datapad under his arm and dropped it on the podium.
Khan Ian Hawker gestured with one arm. “Enough, if someone mis-transcribed the petition it can be dealt with later. Let us settle this and be on with our duties.”
“Why,” a Star Colonel asked, standing up from where he sat near a group of Diamond Sharks who were wearing the formal dress of Merchant Factors. “Does one of our warriors need to come to the Clan Council to request this? He can hardly be in active combat, or Star Colonel Ochika would not be here, quineg?”
This is combat, in its way, thought Ace. “I made the first request to Star Colonel Ochika, which was declined.”
“Enough, Angus.” Ulni Ochika did not rise, in fact Ace could barely see her in the back ranks of the seating. “He does not qualify.”
The other Star Colonel looked amused. “He clearly disagrees.”
“The requirements to enter a Trial of Bloodright are not complicated,” declared a grim-faced woman. “You are an active warrior, quiaff?” she asked Ace.
“Aff.”
“Your matrilineal descent traces to the founder of your bloodhouse, quiaff?”
“Aff,” he said again.
But there was a “Neg,” from Ulni.
“Do we need a scientist to confirm this?” asked the Star Colonel - Angus, probably Angus Labov of Alpha Galaxy’s 21st Assault Cluster, thought Ace - sarcastically. “It should not be complicated and I cannot think of any reason I would refuse one of my warriors the chance at a Bloodname.”
Semi Kalasa tossed her datapad down onto the table beside her throne. “The Star Captain is freeborn. Thus he is not eligible to compete. Or does anyone wish to prove themselves by challenging centuries of precedent.”
“The only precedents are in my favor, loremaster,” Ace challenged her. “Freeborn warriors have held bloodnames before. And there is no record in the Clan’s archives of any petition to compete being refused the chance due to this.”
“Challenge me again, Star Captain, and we will settle our grievance with a trial,” Kalasa retorted, rising to her feet. “No petition has been denied because no freebirth has been so impudent as to try to claim a bloodname before. Your claim is an insult to everyone in this room!”
Ace met her glare and then set his own datapad. “The bloodright being trialed for next month was the first competed for by any descendant of Vladimir Enders. It was won by Susan Enders in 2824, and Susan Enders was the freeborn child of Vladimir Enders, defeating four trueborn children created from his DNA for the right. It is rare for a freeborn warrior to win a bloodname, but there is no law against it.”
“Custom is…”
“Custom,” the stern-faced woman from earlier cut off the loremaster. “Is not law, loremaster.”
Very notably, Semi Kalasa did not challenge the woman. Ian Hawker looked over. “You support this petition, Evangeline Clarke? Did I mistake your words?”
“No, my Khan.” The woman stepped out onto the floor. “I dare anyone to say they care more about the purity of our bloodnames than I. I dare you!” she roared suddenly, looking at the room.
No one spoke up for a moment, before Angus Labov - who had sat down earlier - chuckled. “None of us doubt you on that, Blood Angel. If you say that the law is on this warrior’s side… then it is.”
“No freeborn warrior has won a bloodright in thirty generations,” Clarke said confidently. “Our breeding programme produces superior warriors. But the laws have never changed: if this freebirth has the lineage of Vladimir Enders then he has the right to try.”
“To die trying,” Kaija Horn observed.
“Yes. As any of us would have, if we had failed on our roads to our bloodnames.” The woman looked at Ace coldly. “You have no chance, Star Captain. But you may try. And if this Council votes otherwise then I will challenge any odds to uphold that.”
“Just trying would make a joke of our Clan,” the saKhan. “You are a mighty warrior, Evangeline Clarke, but the Clans’ needs come first.”
Angus Labov spoke up again. “A joke? A warrior’s measure is his record.” He lifted a datapad of his own. “Star Captain Ace’s record is readily accessible. Three kills in his Trial of Position is not unprecedented, but it is rare. And a Deathstrike award? We do not usually pit that much tonnage against any of our cadets during their first Trial of Position - but he faced it and triumphed. I would have welcomed such an officer to my Cluster immediately if there was an opening.”
“Not while I command Alpha Galaxy,” Khan Hawker growled.
“Has this Star Captain disappointed during his service, Ulni Ochika,” enquired Labov. “I have his record here.”
Ochika left her seat and walked down the aisle towards the front. “He has not,” he admitted. “He commanded the forces bid against the Fourth Viper Guards on New Kent. A victory that any of our frontline forces would be proud of. One that humiliated Clan Steel Viper.”
“And then he was deployed more recently against the Nova Cats. Bringing down two omnimechs larger than his own.” Labov tapped his datapad. “Maybe you would have won without that, but it could be calculated that his bringing them down turned the tide. An important trial, because if we - if you, Ulni - had been defeated there then we would have lost the rights to produce our newest Omnimech. All the resources invested into developing the Huntsman… lost. I doubt, Khan Horn, that a warrior who has proven himself three times in less than two years is going to embarrass the Clan. He may die, but so will many others.”
There was a grumble of debate from around the room as warriors argued the matter with their neighbors.
Ace couldn’t read the room, but looking at the three on the thrones he thought that they could. Semi Kalasa’s lips tightened. “I call a recess,” she declared. “We will reconvene in fifteen minutes. Anyone else wishing to speak on this matter may approach me during that time. If no one does, we will vote immediately.”
The elemental guard approached Ace and gestured for him to follow him out of the hall.
Had he won? Lost? Was it in the balance?
“A word of advice,” the elemental offered once the door closed behind them. “Evangeline Clarke may call for a Trial of Refusal if the vote goes against you. Do not try to participate yourself. She will only fight against or alongside the bloodnamed.”
“...is that why Star Colonel Labov called her Blood Angel.”
The elemental nodded and walked off.
Ace went to the bench against the wall and sat down, resting his head against the deliberately rough stone work of the wall. So now it was out of his hands. How frustrating.
He was surprised that the door opened again. There were other exits on the floor above for members of the Council, this entrance was apparently only for petitioners.
Looking up, he saw a mechwarrior about his own age, wearing much the same dress uniform. Blonde hair clipped close to his skull. A Star Commander’s rank pins suggested a reason for the man’s flat expression. “Star Captain,” the warrior said flatly.
“Star Commander.”
“I will be brief. The Khan does not want further division within the Clan Council on this point. His concern is that your participation in the Enders Trial of Bloodright will affect a Watch investigation.”
Ace blinked. “An investigation into what?”
“That is not your concern.”
“I do not even know who you are. You speak for Khan Hawker.”
The other mechwarrior’s hands curled into fists. “My name is Steven Hawker. I hold the bloodright once held by Blake Hawker, who you may remember - the Khan sponsored me for it himself. Is that sufficient or would you like to read my entire codex, quineg?”
Ace pushed himself to his feet, noticing he was still slightly shorter than Steven. “Neg. That will suffice. So what does the Khan want?”
“The records of your heritage have been altered to indicate your mother was a technician within our Clan, acquired from Clan Burrock in a trial some years ago. More than one enclave on Priori has changed hands in that time. It will not be suspicious.”
That… this was about his mother? What was so important about her that Khan Ian Hawker was taking a direct concern? Ace considered the issue. Was sending Blake Hawker after him for his Trial of Position about this as well?
In the end, it didn’t really change the current question. “I think the Burrocks will be offended enough without telling them I was raised by the dark caste,” he told Steven Hawker. “You may assure the Khan that so long as my blood heritage is not altered, I will not mention the exact circumstances of how I joined the Clan.”
Steven Hawker nodded sharply. “Bargained well and done.” He turned back to the door. “And Star Captain? Try to die with some degree of dignity.”
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A/N: Thank you for the condolences that have been offered.
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I suspect Ace Enders return to the clan will cause a bit of a stir... ::)
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Nice to see Brett Andrews is still a jerk...
So does that make the Trial- "Ender Game"
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Ace makes for a excellent butterfly. Probably got a future viper khan killed or at least greatly derailed. Saved the Huntsman from falling into nova cat hands which might be huge given its supposed importance. They expect him to die but frankly I worry more about sabotage than anything. The clans are not above ****** over those they hate and pretending otherwise. But if he can make it will have major repercussions. Ace is already smashing through glass ceilings but a bloodname could freak out a lot of traditionalists because he throws into question many things they hold sacred. Phelan got away with it because he was not only good but had major backing in the wolves but Ace? He stands mostly alone and the fact the Burrocks are already being investigated a good decade early is also suspicious. Did the raid that acquire Ace give evidence that is being chased down in the background?
As for Wei? She keeps being best Primus far more concerned with her job and the good of the organization and its stated goals than religious fanaticism. The surviving proto blakists are probably losing their minds over this but with time her efforts will probable greatly improve things and entrench her and her growing faction.
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Another nice story update. Nice to see Ace proving himself as a warrior and Star Captain for the Dimond Sharks. Also he is seeing the clan politics and the bias against freeborns. Hopefully he can succeed and build up a support base for himself in his home clan.
As for the story for the Primus Wei Rong and her meeting with the Precentor Martial. I like how she is not willing to cut the budget for everything else that Comstar does to just expand the ComGuards. It will be interesting to see how she gets new material flowing to the ComGuards. Will she also be meeting with each successor lord?
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"Enders Game" is a nice call back... 8)
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They expect him to die but frankly I worry more about sabotage than anything. The clans are not above ****** over those they hate and pretending otherwise.
Another Clanner asks a Diamond Shark, "Why do you tolerate that Freebirth?"
And the Shark replies, "Because he keeps winning, especially against other Clans."
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Once again, when the fin is in the water, don't go swimming.
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Pinged.
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After his casual little backstabbing, the career of would be Bloody Ilkhan is bound to take-off like a man who set of an anti-tank mine.
And Hawkers still don't get it, Ace did not join to clan to die, he joined to win.
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One way to build up ComStar's military material production without killing the bank would be to make the investments to 'service the mercenary arms market' through the MSRB. Sell a fraction of production to mercenary outfits, at least enough to support the production of ComGuards' requirements, and in a true emergency, you can grab the mercenary sales and restrict them to re-direct production internally. Tying this to mercenary ratings would also give the MSRB another arm of control over mercs, if you are the Kell Hounds or GDL's major supplier of Star League grade equipment. Top rated units get first-refusal on production, with lower rated units getting equipment that is passed over or too dear for the top tranche's taste. Meanwhile, ComStar takes the profits and uses them to run the factories more, lowering unit-costs, increasing per-sale profit, and making the weapons they need to arm the ComGuards. It's potentially a virtuous cycle.
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And they can get a fair amount of income by taking advantage of rolling out new equipment. The Griffin will be replacing mechs already deployed so as they are replaced, it's easy enough to sell those older mechs that would be harder to maintain to other buyers. Since the FedCom is loving the Brutus tank, sell them the ones the ComGuard has while replacing with Merkavas. Since they were buying them for 30 years, there should be quite a few to sell. Same for older medium mechs or other classes of equipment as Focht simplifies the logistics structure.
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Another Clanner asks a Diamond Shark, "Why do you tolerate that Freebirth?"
And the Shark replies, "Because he keeps winning, especially against other Clans."
That will be his saving grace and if the Khan has any sense when he comes back with a bloodname he will snap him up as a protege or at least as a enforcer. Victory is everything in the clans and as long as he is producing and useful...
Tying this to mercenary ratings would also give the MSRB another arm of control over mercs, if you are the Kell Hounds or GDL's major supplier of Star League grade equipment. Top rated units get first-refusal on production, with lower rated units getting equipment that is passed over or too dear for the top tranche's taste. Meanwhile, ComStar takes the profits and uses them to run the factories more, lowering unit-costs, increasing per-sale profit, and making the weapons they need to arm the ComGuards. It's potentially a virtuous cycle.
They can also add in defenses and aid clauses that those that buy from them. Buy comstar and you can get parts and maintenance from the local enclave but if they call for help you better have very good reason to not rally to their aid. Keep with good pr and honestly trying to help people and comstar can keep the merc market locked up as a friendly sorta army on call. Soft power only called on when needed and look damn good in news feeds.
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One way to build up ComStar's military material production without killing the bank would be to make the investments to 'service the mercenary arms market' through the MSRB. Sell a fraction of production to mercenary outfits, at least enough to support the production of ComGuards' requirements, and in a true emergency, you can grab the mercenary sales and restrict them to re-direct production internally.
also could boost things by selling more stuff to the non fedcommers, so you make money, boost your groups that you want to boost, and make the fedcom worry some
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Opalescent Reflections
Dealer’s Choice
Chapter 3
Hilton Head, North America
Terra, Sol System
3 July 3048
The sun was streaming into the First Circuit’s chamber through stained-glass windows that bore ComStar’s emblem, warming the room to the point that the heavy robes worn by those within were uncomfortable. That was Wei Rong’s feeling anyway - she could hear the air conditioning working hard to try to address the problem but it wasn’t quite sufficient.
For a moment she considered throwing an upgrade to the air conditioning onto the agenda, but if no one else was bothered by it then she’d be wasting time and credibility. Perhaps if she was on better terms with the First Circuit but despite being the one who’d appointed them, she wouldn’t call any of them friends. They didn’t spend enough time on the same planet to change that - it wasn’t like the original First Circuit, before the Precentor-Advocates were appointed. The twelve original positions were all based within direct HPG range of Terra, close enough for an (admittedly expensive) real-time conversation. Perhaps that was why Dieron was the most powerful of the five Precentor-Advocates before she moved that position to Luthien - it had easier access to Terra.
“Does anyone have any concerns about the proposed contracts for Krupp and Wangker?” she asked, instead of mentioning the air conditioning.
Gwyn Thorne frowned but then shook her head. “None I haven’t already voiced.” Precentor Rasalhague had been a good choice, Wei thought. She was towards the pacifist end of ComStar’s political spectrum and had a background in the financial side of the Order. She’d be delighted if the ComGuards shrank back to their previous side, balancing out the more militant voices.
Wei looked around the room. “Shall we approve the contracts for the upgraded Griffin and Corsair production by acclamation, or does anyone wish to call for a vote?”
“A vote would be a formality,” Joe Murphy declared. “Let’s just approve this and move on.”
No one spoke up in opposition after a moment and Wei tapped the approval button on her podium, dispatching the proposals back into the bureaucracy. She’d managed to keep the list of Focht’s requests to herself, and only requesting the two top items - a medium battlemech and a medium aerospace fighter - would keep enough money spare in the budget for other projects. And if there was money next year, she could look at the next few items. In her experience, a trickle of benefits for someone tended to win more support than a single bout of largesse.
“We have completed the scheduled agenda,” she declared. “Does anyone want to raise any new issues?” On her podium she brought up her own plan. Not the air conditioning, or at least Hilton Head’s air conditioning. Repairing the solar shade for Venus, after a quarter of a millennium of neglect, could be considered to be very large scale air conditioning.
Joe Buckley leaned forwards. “Yes, Primus. I do have a concern related to our last item of business.”
Wei gestured for him to continue - she’d invited input, she could hardly shut him up now. What was Buckley after now? Last time he’d asked for anything it was additional Psi and Nu presence in the HPG stations through the outer edges of the Crucis March, hoping to bring back the days when the Davion Outback had been a major recruitment area for ComStar. Wei had been delighted to send him all the Psi division staff he could have asked for - it got them away from Terra and it would give Federated Commonwealth intelligence something to focus on other than actually important ROM activity.
“I’m pleased that we’re taking the defense of our enclaves seriously,” the New Avalon Precentor declared pompously. “The most important, of course, being here on Terra. However there is an area that I believe is being neglected: our warship fleet is in a state of sad neglect.”
“We have the only warships left in the Inner Sphere,” Precentor Norris pointed out, slightly scornfully. “Just the fact we have three of them active means that Terra is completely secure, not to mention the dozens of mothballed hulls.”
“Ah, but we may not have the only warships for much longer.”
Wei turned sharply towards Buckley and restrained a sharp question only because Tiger Lily got there first with a: “What are you talking about?”
Buckley nodded seriously. “Hanse Davion’s secret warship programme is moving towards the construction of a class of warships - Project RX-78.”
Tapping at her podium, Wei searched for data that and found nothing. “If this is so,” she asked, “then why has ROM not reported it already.”
“I’m sure that the matter is working its way through their structure, Primus.” Buckley lowered his head obsequiously, which didn’t hide a smug smile. “It was only recently discovered and I brought the data directly to Terra with me.” He tapped at his own podium and files became available for Wei to read. Rather than do so on the podium, she activated the holoprojector built into the floor.
The diagrams that came up were clearly incomplete and it took Wei a few seconds to find the best overview of what it was - a thimble-shaped ship that looked more like an oversized dropship than a full-sized warship.
“It’s only a corvette,” Murphy observed. “And not much of one. We have three Dante frigates active, any of which would make mincemeat of this.”
“And this is only a design,” Wei observed. “Has construction begun on this?” If it had then she could take a figurative ax to ROM’s reporting processes. That should have crossed her desk before now.
Buckley shook his head. “Federated-Boeing of Galax is currently in the process of preparing construction slips, but the design has not been finalized and we do have a few years of leeway - but any response will also take years to be put into place. The Federated Commonwealth clearly proposes that this ship will be built in numbers - multiple vessels to be built at Galax and possibly at Alarion as well.”
Norris leant forwards. “That is concerning. Even if it isn’t directed at us, that would give the Federated Commonwealth a substantial advantage over the navies of its neighbors. I’m confident Theodore Kurita would order the use of nuclear weapons if he had to face FedCom warships, even vessels as limited as this.”
“...it could take us back to the Second Succession War,” Wei realized, speaking out loud.
“And if a flotilla of these could overwhelm our frigates,” added Tiger Lily. “Primus, the security of Terra requires that we bring more warships online.”
“We have the time to bring our fleet up to its full strength, more than sixty warships, in the time it will take Davion’s scientists and engineers to complete the first batch of these ships,” Buckley advised the other Precentors. “And thanks to the Primus’ fiscal care, we have something of a surplus of funds - enough to put this into practice.”
“I’ve been earmarking those funds for the solar shade over Venus,” Wei told him. “ComStar has been promising to deal with that for over a century, it’s time we kept our word.”
“Respectfully, Primus, keeping a few thousand Venusians happy is much less important than the defense of Terra.” Tiger Lily spoke hotly. “I don’t object to that project in principle, but we must prioritize.”
Wei glanced around the room and saw that the fear of the ship projected in the air among them had captured the imaginations of most of those present. “I understand your concerns, Precentor Atreus.”
“I’m sure the Precentor Martial has contingencies for reactivating the fleets,” Murphy declared. “I propose that an updated plan, based on the available funding, be prepared for us to consider before the end of the month. We have time… but we cannot waste it.”
“I second Precentor Tharkad’s motion,” said Joe Buckley. “Shall we vote?”
“All who say aye?” asked Wei. She knew how this would go thought - the four most powerful Precentor-Advocates were in agreement, even if Precentor Sian added his vote to her and Gwyn Thorne, the result was clearly going to be in favor of rebuilding the fleet.
Touching her podium, she dismissed the proposed solar shade. Sinking a fortune into warships that hadn’t been needed since Jerome Blake’s day instead of keeping faith with the people that ComStar has a duty for…
No, she thought. This isn’t over. I won’t let Buckley’s fear-mongering dominate ComStar. I have a month to find a solution.
Katyusha, Strana Mechty
Kerensky Cluster, Clan Homeworlds
16 July 3048
The Bloodchapels of the Clans occupied a great park, called Svoboda Zemlya, that surrounded the Hall of Khans. More than eight hundred chapels stood, surrounded with trees and shrubs that in some cases had been planted by the first generations of the Clans.
Some that Ace drove past were blasted ruins, torn apart by the weapons of BattleMechs to mark the annihilation of the bloodlines that had once been under the custodianship of those working in the Bloodchapels. The Not-Named Clan and a few other examples since had suffered that fate.
Others were quiet and near-abandoned, either because the Bloodhouse that they had once represented had dwindled over the centuries or because the Clan that they sprang from no longer centered their affairs on Strana Mechty. A Clan’s most prized lineages would be fought for on their own capital, not here - reducing the bloodchapels to mere back-ups that functioned mostly as automated back-ups for the main repositories.
Guided by an automated navigation system, Ace guided his groundcar towards one of the many bloodchapels that still functioned as it had been designed to - a building that was a hive of activity today. Scientists out in force, as were warriors from four different Clans, awaiting the beginning of the Trial of Bloodright. Clan Burrock had long since relocated its capital to the world of Albion, but for Bloodhouses that it no longer held complete control of, it was still best for a Trial of Bloodright to take place here on neutral ground. Not law, but practicality.
Pulling the groundcar up alongside a rank of others, Ace climbed out and then removed the sunglasses he was wearing in deference to the bright light of Strana Mechty’s star. As he looked around, he saw that he’d caught the attention of many of those outside - worth one look as a potential rival and then a second as they realized that a fifth Clan had joined the mix.
No doubt there would be some jostling for position, warriors trying to psyche themselves up and discourage other contenders. Ace felt a degree of amusement at the idea, he’d had to face his entire Clan Council to be here. A little hazing was nothing.
One of the scientists manning a desk set up outside the chapel looked up at Ace’s arrival. “Are you sure you are at the correct place, warrior? This is the Enders bloodchapel. If you need directions…”
“This is where I should be.” He rolled up one sleeve of his jumpsuit, as he saw many of the warriors had. “I am here to register for the Trial of Bloodright.”
The man - shorter than Ace and already old enough to be balding - flinched. “My apologies. I was not aware that any of the bloodline served Clan Diamond Shark. If you would hold out your arm?”
Ace complied and the man tapped his codex bracelet against a scanner, downloading his official profile, then drew a blood sample with a second tool - a means of identifying fraud. Ace had never heard of someone trying to cheat their way into a Trial of Bloodright, but anyone who tried would almost certainly not be given long to regret the decision.
“Star Captain Ace… bloodline…” The man frowned. “Excuse me, could you confirm your sibko? There seems to be a mistake.”
The conversation around the table died down, silence spreading to those further away as they turned to see what had drawn attention.
“I was trained in freeborn sibko,” Ace declared, conscious that everyone here would hear the words. “My mother was born into Sibko Enders-Polcyzk-2997.”
“Your… mother…” the scientist said slowly. “Let me check…”
Ace slowly rolled down his sleeve, watching the scientist.
“You are definitely in the wrong place, freeborn,” a woman said quietly.
He looked at over her for a moment. A Burrock, no rank pins. “To earn a bloodline requires the correct matrilineal DNA… and to win. Being born in a test-tube does seem to help but it isn’t technically a requirement. Otherwise Natalya Enders couldn’t have held the bloodright we are all here for.”
The mechwarrior seemed about to say more but someone caught her shoulder, then had to yank his hand back before she seized it for a throw. “Relax, Annika. No Diamond Shark holds our bloodname so he has no sponsor. He is fodder for the Grand Melee.”
“Technician Sophia,” the scientist observed quietly. “Washed out of Enders-Polcyzk-2997 prior to her Trial of Position… This is irregular.”
“Does his Matrilineal DNA match?” a gray-haired woman asked.
“Aff.”
She shook her head. “Then it is not our problem.” Turning, she looked Ace in the eye. “The bloodhouse leader is inside, warrior. Your credentials are verified, you can go inside to complete your application to participate.”
“Thank you.” He tilted his head slightly in respect and then turned sharply - as if on a parade ground - marching towards the handful of steps leading up to the entrance. No one tried to stop him, but he heard a snatch of words from a cluster of Fire Mandrills and Goliath Scorpions. “Felipe… chew him up… wager… blood…”
Then he was out of the blazing sunlight and in the shadowy interior hall of the chapel, closing the heavy door behind him.
Below the floor would be the catacombs, level after layer of genetic reference material, offices and other working areas for the scientist caste. But here there was archaic wooden benches set on a marble floor. Once Ace was past the antechamber he found himself in a chamber of gothic paneling as high as his shoulders. Above that, the walls were marked with clips and niches to hold hundreds of trophies - donations by bloodnamed warriors wanting to leave a mark here for their successor. Each had a story… but he suspected that few knew what those stories were. Reverence for a predecessor made little sense when one was aiming to surpass them.
Four long benches with crimson cushions lined the upper half of the chapel’s main floor, a throne-like seat in the same black wood and crimson velvet for the bloodhouse’s leader facing towards the door. There was room for six people on each bench, though Ace knew from his research that twelve bloodrights had been retired over the years - mostly for mediocrity. The Enders bloodhouse had produced few warriors of great note. It must rankle with those who came here.
Even of the twelve living men and women who held the bloodname of Enders, half were absent. A stocky, dark-haired man in Burrock ceremonial garb sat on the throne, flanked on his left by three more Burrocks. Facing them was a redheaded woman in the colors of Clan Hells’ Horses and a lean, distracted seeming man whose cap bore the Goliath Scorpion’s badge.
“What is this?” The house leader had been examining a datapad - presumably linked to the tests done outside. “Does Khan Ian Hawker think Bloodhouse Enders is a joke?!”
“I do not speak for my Khan,” Ace replied quietly.
The Goliath Scorpion stretched slightly and then seemed to awaken - had he been napping? The man looked over at Ace with lazy curiosity. “I like the look of this one.”
“No one cares, Ellison.” The house leader set his datapad aside. “A technician’s sp-”
“I care,” Ellison replied mildly. “Ah, you were speaking Felipe?”
So this was indeed Felipe Enders, the current bloodhouse leader. Ace hadn’t been entirely sure - it was possible he might have not attended, requiring another to oversee the Trial of Bloodright. The man took a deep breath, clearly struggling with his temper. “Aff, I am speaking.”
“Please continue,” interrupted Ellison, smirking slightly.
“If you would bring your customary silence to the conversation - in fact, if you were to go back to sleep - then that would be much easier.” Then Felipe turned his glare on Ace. “And you can get the hell out of here, freebirth. A technician’s bloodline has no claim here on the Enders name.”
“Vladimir Enders was a technician before he followed Nicholas Kerensky in the Second Exodus,” the redheaded warrior said drily. “As you ought to remember.”
“That was a very long time ago. As much as I honor the founder’s legacy, if any of the founders of the Clans were among us today they would no longer be our equals,” Felipe asserted. “And whatever this one’s maternal lineage, I see no record here of whatever lineage was mixed with it to produce him. He has no place in a Trial of Bloodright.”
“Unless you can muster a vote of the Grand Council to amend the General Regulations… I meet the requirements,” Ace challenged. “You have no grounds to block me. Are you really so afraid that whoever you are sponsoring are unfit to face me?”
“I am the leader of this Bloodhouse and I have the right and obligation to deny participation of anyone whose credentials are suspect.” Felipe smirked suddenly. “Alas, without any of your Clan here, it may take quite some time to validate your identity.”
The redhead hissed slowly. “That is a dangerous position to take, Felipe. One that could get you reaved - or worse - if the Diamond Sharks go to the Grand Council.”
Ace did his best not to let on that Ian Hawker would probably be ecstatic about Felipe’s position.
Felipe slowly and deliberately sat down on his throne and tapped his knuckles on one carved arm. “Are you challenging me, Helena.”
For a moment the question hung in the air and then Ellison chuckled. “A vote,” he proposed. “If the Loremaster of even one of our Clans saw this the wrong way, it could lead to the entire Bloodhouse being censured. Not even the leader of a Bloodhouse has the right to drag us all into that against our will.”
Felipe looked at the so far silent Burrocks to his left and got a nod from the one nearest him. “Fine then. I vote that this Diamond Shark be detained while we refer the legitimacy of his candidacy to the loremaster of my Clan - on Albion. Who is with me?”
Two of the Burrocks raised their hands immediately, then jabbed the man between them below the ribs when he hesitated, stroking his beard. “Very well,” he sighed. “I agree.”
“Four votes to your two,” Felipe told Ellison and Helena. “So…”
“Five votes,” Ellison told him brightly.
Felipe blinked. “Are you so drunk that you cannot count, Ellison Enders?”
“Neg,” the Scorpion said brightly, “But I kind of had a suspicion that you might decide to put your finger on the scales in favor of your Clan, so I sent word to Jared, Allaria and LeBrun. Oddly, they all agreed to give me their proxies to vote for them if anything came up in their absence.” He pulled a datadisk out of his pocket and handed it to the Hells’ Horse-woman beside him and smirked at Felipe.
She picked up a datapad, slotted the disk in and checked the contents, then looked up. “It is true. Ellison holds four votes… and I believe I will side with him.”
With smooth suddenness that was entirely at odds with his earlier laxness, Ellison leant forwards into Felipe’s face. “I have the votes to remove you as House Leader, at least until you can get proxies from the Burrocks who are absent. You do not want that, quineg?”
The Burrock growled something that could be considered a neg. “You have your vote, Ellison…” And then jabbed a finger into the Goliath Scorpion’s face. “And I call for a Trial of Refusal. The freebirth is not a true warrior and I am offended that you treat him as such.”
Ellison blinked and then laughed in Felipe’s face. “Ha! I did not think you had it in you. Alright, take your shot at him. Who has a coin? Wait, I should have one.”
Ace could see the others were baffled, but it was the bearded Burrock who saw it first. “Ah, since this is a trial based on your fitness, Star Captain Ace, you must champion your cause.”
“At four to five votes,” Helena muttered.
“That is close enough to even,” declared Ellison. He produced a golden coin from one pocket. Heads or tails, Diamond Shark. Winner chooses the means of combat, the loser chooses the circle of equals.”
Ace blinked at the idea, but it wasn’t as if he’d come this far to back down. “Heads.”
The coin spun in the air and then Ellison snatched it back and slapped it onto the back of his hand. “Lucky as well as brave,” he said cheerfully. “Heads it is.”
“Wait - since I am the loser, I declare that our battlefield will be in here,” Felipe snapped, before Ace could declare they would fight in ‘mechs.
Helena made a face. “Legal…” she conceded.
Ace grit his teeth. Augmented combat would play to his strengths, but it was clearly impossible to bring even one ‘mech into the Bloodchapel, never mind two. And even trying would destroy the building - something that would disgrace Ace. Bloodchapels, like any other genetic repository, were sacrosanct.
The trouble was, unlike most Clan warriors, Ace hadn’t been practicing unarmed combat since he was born. He was adequate… but he wasn’t an expert. And Felipe had probably guessed that.
He needed a way out. A loophole…
“Well?” Felipe asked. “How will we fight?”
Something among the trophies caught Ace’s eye and inspiration struck. “Augmented,” he declared and before anyone could object, he ran at one of the empty benches, using it as a jumping off point to snatch two rapiers from where they hung on the wall. He had no idea who had left them up there, but they had the weight to not be merely ornamental.
Ace landed on the far end of the bench, behind the three Burrocks and jabbed one of the swords point-first into the wooden bench. “With these,” he clarified, backing down the bench until he could hop off it and onto the floor.
Ellison laughed. “Also legal. Well, Felipe? Go kill him if he offends you so much.”
Felipe reached over and grasped the hilt of the rapier, yanking it out of the wood with no great effort. “It will be my pleasure,” he declared, stepping between the benches.
Ace lunged forwards, driving the sword right at Felipe’s face. The Burrock threw up his sword to parry and sparks flew as the two blades ground against each other. Then he pushed and Ace let him break the bind, not convinced he had the muscle to win that contest.
Taking the withdrawal as weakness, the Bloodhouse leader advanced - hacking wildly with the sword. The other bloodnamed warriors scrambled back and away while Ace kept his parries short and kept backing away. His hands stung when the swords clashed - Felipe was strong and he was angry, putting a lot of force into the blows.
“I will send your body back to the Sharks in pieces,” the older man promised as Ace kept giving ground towards the door.
“Promises, promises. You have yet to even draw blood,” Ace reminded him.
Felipe snarled and attempted his own lunge. Ace sidestepped, pushing the other rapier just far enough out of line to miss and then punched with the basket-hilt of the rapier.
The Burrock’s head snapped back as half a kilogram of metal smashed his nose flat. He didn’t fall though and he had the wit to twist his blade around Ace’s, freeing him to attack again before the younger man could try to exploit the opening.
Ace backed up until his heel was against the door, taking a fencing stance - one hand holding the rapier out towards Felipe and the other behind his back for balance.
“Nowhere else to run,” the older man warned him, staring at him over their swords. “If you leave then you’ve exited the circle of equals.”
“And if talk won Trials then Clan Mongoose wouldn’t have been absorbed,” Ace shot back, deliberately stressing the contraction.
Felipe’s pupils shrank visible and he darted forwards, sword thrusting for Ace’s throat.
And Ace swung himself to the side, fingers on the hand behind him latched onto the door handle.
The door opened smoothly and the Bloodname leader found himself staring directly into the glare of the sun, with eyes adjusted to the shadowy light inside of the chapel.
He didn’t stumble, but his efforts to keep his sword aimed towards Ace went wildly wrong.
The Diamond Shark had no such problems and he’d yanked his sword hand well back to have maximum potential to extend. Folding one knee, he angled himself to thrust up and the rapier’s point stabbed upwards into the soft flesh below Felipe’s chin… and then up through the mouth and brain.
“Well,” Ellison murmured, perching on one end of a bench. “It looks like we have two open bloodrights now. And need to elect a new leader, quiaff?”
-
Paris, Europe
Terra, Sol System
25 July 3048
Le Masque d'Argent wasn’t the most exclusive restaurant in Paris but it was the most prestigious. Polished stainless steel and glass formed gigantic greenhouses for tropical plants, and something like a thousand tables set on balconies looking down on dance floors or stages. It was very much the place to be seen if you were one of the Terran financial elite, a group that didn’t overlap very well with the more academic ethos of ComStar.
For that reason, as well as more electronic security measures than some Class-B HPG, Wei had selected the Le Masque as a good place to meet with Tiger Lily. Also their dessert menu, brought in daily from Vienna, was to die for.
Both women wore formal gowns and the elaborate masquerade masks that were required by the dress-code.
“I’m glad you’re paying for this,” Tiger Lily observed, once the main course had been served. “I don’t mind expensive, but anywhere that doesn’t even mention the prices is beyond that level.”
“If you have to ask, you shouldn’t be here,” Wei agreed, lifting her wine glass. “Thankfully, this is coming out of my entertainment budget, not my salary. Even I don’t get paid that well.” Senior ComStar Precentors weren’t paid badly, but the real benefit lay in the influence, not in more tangible rewards.
Precentor Atreus raised her own glass and sipped. Her eyes widened slightly, barely visible through the eye-holes of the feathered mask she wore. “It’s a formidable bribe, but I won’t compromise on the security of Terra,” she warned.
“On the security, no. But perhaps on how it’s achieved.” Wei put her glass down and began cutting her lamb. She’d not tried it on her previous visit here, but she’d seen it being served at another table. In most matters, Tiger Lily was strongly opposed to the extremist rhetoric of Joe Buckley - dangerously so in some ways. Completely secularizing ComStar would be almost as bad as indulging fantasies based on reading between the lines of Blake’s journals. But it raised the possibility of peeling her away from the temporary coalition pushing for bringing every warship in reach back into service as fast as possible.
The older woman swirled the wine in her glass for a moment and then set it down, taking up her fork. “It costs me nothing to listen.”
“The vessels Buckley uncovered aren’t designed in the same way as the SLDF vessels we have in mothballs,” she pointed out. “If you look at them, they’re carrying dropships and substantial secondary weapons. I’ve spoken to a pair of our more experienced naval officers - Beresick and Zwick - and they believe the difference is because the SLN saw warships as one part of a larger force, whereas the Steiner-Davion’s have to see them as units that might have to operate alone or only in support of transport elements with limited military capability in space.”
“I don’t claim to be a military expert myself,” Tiger Lily conceded, “But if you’re comfortable sharing their report then I’ll take it at face value.” There was an unspoken ‘for now’.
Wei nodded slightly and ate some of the lamb. It was exquisite. “If we simply rush our warships into production, they’ll be at a disadvantage because they aren’t equipped the same way. And we don’t have the ability to surround each of them with escorting dropships and the like - unless you’re willing to start making severe changes to other budgets. We might need to cut entire HPG stations if we go down that road, and hitting our core functions seems… ill-advised.”
That got a considering nod.
“And as Precentor Buckley has - to his credit - given us plenty of warning, what I’m suggesting is that we refit the available Essex and Lola III destroyers to carry more onboard secondary weapons and fighter bays. The design work would take a little while, but we wouldn’t be starting from scratch - it’s much the same sort of work that was done when designing the Dante-class frigates.”
“Are a few destroyers going to be enough?” asked Tiger Lily thoughtfully.
“I’m talking about more than twenty vessels,” Wei answered drily. “Each of which should be more than capable of matching one of these RX-78 corvettes.”
The Precentor blinked. “I didn’t think we had so many ships in those classes - unless I’m mis-remembering the numbers that Buckley quoted.”
Wei sat back. “Since we’re looking at refitting the ships, I’m factoring in derelict hulls we haven’t previously recovered… and a cache that I’m not convinced even Myndo Waterly knew about.”
“...excuse me?”
“The deaths of so many Precentors two years ago didn’t just open room at the top, it seems to have cut away quite a number of people who had sole - or almost sole - knowledge of various projects. ROM hasn’t just been hiding ComStar’s secrets from outsiders, they’ve also enabled various groups to hide them from each other.”
“A cache of warships though? That seems implausible… although I suppose they’d not need much maintenance.”
“Someone - I think the late Precentor Talitha was in the loop - had hidden away an entire repair facility, comparable to Lutyen or Ross.” Wei reached for her glass again, watching Tiger Lily for any sign that the woman had known. “It appears that the Star League yardship that our own Faslane-class repair ships are based on wasn’t scrapped, it was restored to function and mothballed there.”
“Blake’s voice.” Tiger Lily reached for her own glass and emptied it. “If it wouldn’t ruin the meal I’d ask for something stronger,” she observed, taking the wine bottle and refilling the crystal glass. “I take it that you want that ship handling the recovery of derelicts.”
“The cost savings of standardizing the ComGuard fleet on only a few warship classes would be significant. The same rationale as the Precentor Martial’s request for focusing our production of smaller equipment on only a few types.” Wei sipped from her own glass and then cut a parsnip up into three bite-sizes. “And yes, the yardship does open up some options.”
“How many secrets like that are there?”
“That’s a good question.” Wei paused. “I’m working on finding out but we may never know.”
They fell silent for a few moments, focusing on food as Wei allowed the older woman to consider the ideas that had been presented. They finished the main course and once the waitress had collected their plates, Tiger Lily looked out over the stage where a 26th century strings quintet was playing live music. “My concern is that destroyers may not be enough. Do the Dante class already meet the specifications that these Precentors - Zwick and Beresick - ask for?”
“Close, but not quite. They have some recommendations.”
“Doesn’t everyone when the prospect of a budget for their pet project rears its head? Like your solar shade…”
Wei raised her glass in acknowledgement of the hit.
“Why does that matter to you so much?” Tiger Lily asked curiously. “Venus has managed without for a very long time.”
“Symbols can be powerful things,” the Primus said quietly. “Right now, it’s a very visible symbol of a promise Jerome Blake made that we’ve never followed through on. And if we don’t keep promises to our own people then how can outsiders take our assurances seriously?”
“What outsiders do you have in mind?”
Wei looked at Tiger Lily and then shrugged. “How many small provinces are there in the Free Worlds League that are wary of Thomas Marik’s centralization of military power. Do you think they really believe we’ll stand with them against pirates, and against raiders who might or might not be their thinly disguised friends and neighbors?”
“I see.” Precentor Atreus tapped the table. “And if Thomas Marik can’t maintain a strong FWLM then certain members of House Steiner may have convincing voices when they talk about doing to the Free Worlds League what was done to the Capellans twenty years ago.”
“Victor Steiner-Davion is young and his father is old. The Free Worlds League is the only other Successor State that the FedCom hasn’t launched a major offensive at. And if not them, somewhere else,” Wei confirmed. “Another major war could bring back the horrors of the First or Second Succession War. If that happens, we need the credibility to pick up the pieces… and if it doesn’t, then we need legitimacy in order to keep operating. Primus Waterly’s obsession with bringing down the Federated Commonwealth has left us facing a cold war that could destroy the Order.”
“There are those,” Tiger Lily said quietly, “Who say that the Federated Commonwealth is the next Star League and that we should be supporting them. They say those things very quietly, and usually looking over their shoulders.”
“There are a lot of possibilities, and we need to prepare for all of them. A willingness to discuss the unpalatable was one of the first casualties of my predecessor’s reign.”
The Precentor shrugged and then turned back as the desserts were brought out. The waitress unloaded them from a small trolley and then rolled it away with a little sway of her hips that Wei appreciated.
“I’ll contact Zwick and Beresick,” the older woman said, after a nibble on her pastry. “If what they say makes sense then I would be satisfied - at least for now - with restoring the destroyers you mentioned, refitting our Dantes and constructing additional frigates to the new specification.”
Wei nodded. “That’s reasonable.”
“However, if the situation changes then we need to be open to revising that decision,” Tiger Lily warned. “Warship construction by the Federated Commonwealth is something that could accelerate into an arms race among the Great Houses. It’s happened again.”
“A naval committee will be established to oversee the reconstruction work,” Wei offered. “Representatives of Titan Yards, the ComGuards Naval service and the First Circuit. You could have a seat on it.”
“Better me than Buckley?”
“Joseph Murphy may have more relevant experience,” Wei pointed out.
Tiger Lily frowned at the mention of Precentor Tharkad. “He lacks a certain political awareness… alright, what do you want? The solar shade? You know we can’t afford it even you cut the warship costs in half.”
“I’ll have a revised plan that spreads the cost over the next decade,” replied Wei.
“So you have your cake and eat it too. Very clever. I hope it tastes as well as these pastries. Very well.”
The women finished their desserts and Tiger Lily gave Wei a look when the Primus didn’t rise to leave. “Aren’t you returning to Hilton Head?”
“Later.” Wei gave her a salacious smile. “There’s a burlesque performance I don’t want to miss - I should get the Order’s money’s worth out of reserving this table.”
The precentor snorted. “Do try to be discreet. No Primus has caused a sex scandal in our entire history, it’s a record I’d like you to maintain.”
Wei tapped her mask. “Why do you think I chose a venue that insists on masks?”
She watched the Precentor leave while the waitress from before approached with two cups of coffee. In the blink of an eye, the waitress pulled a mask from her pocket and whipped a silky shawl out of her pockets. By the time she’d sat down the new arrival had transformed herself from a waitress to a guest wearing business dress.
“That,” Wei said quietly, “Is showing off.” Then she smiled warmly. “I approve.”
Adept Dahlia Erin smiled back, as enigmatically as the Mona Lisa.
“Do you know she believes anything?”
Now the spy shook her head. “She is an expert politician. Feigning surprise is usually the first thing they learn after hiding it. All available evidence suggests that she is genuinely concerned at Precentor New Avalon’s faction and welcomes an option to satisfy her concerns about the warship threat without accepting his solution. However, if allying with him advances her policies in other areas…”
“As you said, she is a politician.”
Erin smiled again. “Precisely.”
Wei lifted the coffee and found it was prepared perfectly to her tastes. “Anastasius Focht spoke highly of you.”
“I hope not to disappoint.”
Their eyes met and then Wei finished her coffee. “As of midnight, you are Precentor Rho. Officially, you report directly to Precentor ROM. Unofficially, your primary concern is to investigate the members of Mu who are controlling what does and doesn’t reach me. I can’t review everything discovered, but far too much is being lost for it to be an accident. That has to end.”
“You’re asking me to lie to my immediate superior, because you think other people are lying to their superiors.”
“I tried trusting people for almost three weeks after I got this job. It’s all been downhill from there,” Wei Rong admitted and turned her attention to the stage.
When she looked up a few minutes later, the ROM agent was gone as if she’d never existed in the first place.
-
I'm enjoying the slow buildup here, and the butterflies flapping their wings. Not sure yet how Ace is going to change things Clan-side, but the changes that Wei is implementing withing ComStar are fascinating to see.
That and I want to see what kind of upgrades you can do on an Essex II and Lola III without getting too crazy.
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I think Ace earned himself enough respect that he'll get one of the spots, if not directly sponsored than part of the new remainder the new head of the Bloodhouse picks.
I do wonder how many will be eager to pick up a Bloodname that just lost to a Freebirth however...
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Ace at least, I'm sure... ^-^
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The sad thing is comstar does need to get their fleet out of mothballs. But a plan that rationalizes their warships into something actually affordable is itself something they really need. They are not the league and cant really afford to bring out all and sundry back into service no matter how much they want to. A solid base to start from could allow for further expansion later. Good for Wei realizing comstar is full of shit and she needs to do some raking.
Ace? He just keeps being a badass and hilarious. He might get some good will just because he removed what seems to be a hated leader but I doubt he will get a sponsor so still a melee. But he is a very strong contender that will not be under estimated save by fools.
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“Well,” Ellison murmured, perching on one end of a bench. “It looks like we have two open bloodrights now. And need to elect a new leader, quiaff?”
(https://media.tenor.com/KIbHPkFeCk4AAAAC/oh-dear-how-sad-never-mind.gif)
This changes matters considerably, bloodright of the bloodhouse leader is usually the most prestigious of them all, so while those who were nominated to participate in the current trial will take part, but I reckon most of those who wanted to go into grand melee will pull out to fight for Felipe's bloodright.
SH: This update on the Ace situation.
IH: He finally had the good grace to die, quiaff?
SH: No... You see.. ehm...
IH: OUT WITH IT the way you speak is unbecoming to a bloodnamed warrior.
SH: He won the trial.
IH: How was that freborn surat even able to survive the melee!? Any true warrior would snap at chance to end his mockery of the ways of the Founder.
SH: He was the only warrior in the melee.
IH: How is that even possible? I know Enders is not the most prestigious bloodname, but still, are it's members so lethargic they would not fight for the honour unless invited?
SH: Just before the trial a more prestigious bloodright became open, that of bloodhouse leader, so those who came for the Grand Melee switched to it.
IH: Bloodhouse leader died just before the trial? Did his body shut off at the concept of freebirth surat competing for on of his precious bloodrights? He should have killed him in the circle of equals instead of dying!
SH: He called the Trial of Refusal and was killed by the freebirth.
IH: Damn Burrocks, can't do a single thing right, even more useless than Fire Mandrills. And now we have to deal with their mess.
What are the chances of Ian Hawker dying of aneurysm in the next few years?
Rational expansion of ComGuards navy is logical, at least until the Clans arrive with their battleships, but radicals will always want more, so Red Light Primus will have to be increasingly confrontational with them. Buckley at least seems to be a shitty strategist, he showed one of his trump cards for a short term upset with W.Rong now knowing that she needs to do a through cleaning of ROM.
BTW would the Comstar upheavals have any butterfly effects on Outbound Light mission?
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Hell, everyone who came to the bloodright trial has only sponsored one candidate, but now there are two bloodrights to be fought over. One of the people who voted in Ace´s favor, the ones from other clans, might be troll enough to sponsor him for the other bloodright, just to piss off the Burrocks.
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Hell, everyone who came to the bloodright trial has only sponsored one candidate, but now there are two bloodrights to be fought over. One of the people who voted in Ace´s favor, the ones from other clans, might be troll enough to sponsor him for the other bloodright, just to piss off the Burrocks.
That would be a risky move, I assume. If Ace were to lose after receiving sponsorship, it will tarnish their own reputation, perhaps eliminating any chance of becoming bloodhouse leader, for example. Even if Ace wins the bloodname, it may alienate warriors in their home clan. Voting to allow him to participate is one thing, after all common sense dictates that he will lose to his superiors, so there's little risk in having him in the melee. But actively tying your career to his bid? That's a large price just to annoy some Burrocks.
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That would be a risky move, I assume. If Ace were to lose after receiving sponsorship, it will tarnish their own reputation, perhaps eliminating any chance of becoming bloodhouse leader, for example. Even if Ace wins the bloodname, it may alienate warriors in their home clan. Voting to allow him to participate is one thing, after all common sense dictates that he will lose to his superiors, so there's little risk in having him in the melee. But actively tying your career to his bid? That's a large price just to annoy some Burrocks.
As I understand it, the two who voted in favor of Ace in person are a Goliath Scorpion and a Hell´s Horse. Given the typical inter-clan rivalry, I doubt their clans would object to them humiliating the Burrocks by forcing them to let a freebirth compete for a bloodname, or for giving the freebirth the opportunity to kill a Burrock blood house leader.
For that reason, I think their clans would find it amusing and/or satisfying if they managed to further humiliate the Burrocks by helping that same freebirth defeat the best and brightest of a Burrock blood house and gain a Burrock bloodname - at least amusing and/or satisfying enough for them to not suffer any negative consequences in their own clan for sponsoring Ace.
The Burrocks, of course, will be beyond pissed, but I´m sure that´s a price other clans are willing to pay.
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It could go either way, I guess. Pissing off the Burrocks may gain you some pats on the back before the whole affair is forgotten. Or it could provide a hurdle for further advancing your career, if it offends some hardliners in your own clan. As Enders is a minor blood name, none of the warriors here are likely in the run for Galaxy Commander or Lore Warden, so it's probably a wash.
Either way, terrifc story, drakensis! I'm looking forward to the collision between altered ComStar and Ace's Diamond Sharks.
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It could go either way, I guess. Pissing off the Burrocks may gain you some pats on the back before the whole affair is forgotten. Or it could provide a hurdle for further advancing your career, if it offends some hardliners in your own clan. As Enders is a minor blood name, none of the warriors here are likely in the run for Galaxy Commander or Lore Warden, so it's probably a wash.
Well, I can hope.
Either way, terrifc story, drakensis! I'm looking forward to the collision between altered ComStar and Ace's Diamond Sharks.
I can also hope that the Diamond Sharks get the canonical Jade Falcon invasion corridor, so we will see Ace face off against Kai Allard-Liao.
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On an entirely different note... I wouldn´t be surprised if, on the matter ComGuard warship reactivation, a compromise would be found eventually.
Reactivating a mothballed warship is fasted than building one from scratch. So as long as ComStar is aware when the keel is laid for a new AFFC warship, they can reactivate more of their own before that AFFC warship is finished.
They also know that each of their own warships is more than a match for what the AFFC is building in a 1-on-1 fight, possibly even a 1-on-2 fight, especially with the modifications being planned at the moment.
So it should be more than sufficient to reactivate one of their own warships for everyone the AFFC is building, or perhaps 4 per 3, or 3 per 2, to be on the safe side. That is a far more manageable and affordable increase to the naval budget, with enough left over to go to the ground forces, than what Buckley is demanding.
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I can also hope that the Diamond Sharks get the canonical Jade Falcon invasion corridor, so we will see Ace face off against Kai Allard-Liao.
Oh, that would be dope! I think it's a safe bet that the Sharks will feature more prominently in the invasion.
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It could go either way, I guess. Pissing off the Burrocks may gain you some pats on the back before the whole affair is forgotten. Or it could provide a hurdle for further advancing your career, if it offends some hardliners in your own clan. As Enders is a minor blood name, none of the warriors here are likely in the run for Galaxy Commander or Lore Warden, so it's probably a wash.
Well the thing is he is the freebirth surat spawn of a failure who went bandit. The fact he even was allowed to try to be a warrior is amazing. Everything about him is a dick slap in the face and he is surviving on sheer balls, skill/luck, and the fact everyone assumes he is just going to get himself killed in some hilarious manner anyway. Him coming back with a bloodname is going to be huge but it just means he will be clutching the tigers tail harder.
At the same time he is building up a lot of butterflies and by the point the invasion starts he could get the diamond sharks a slot or at least closer to one. At this point he will also be at least commanding a cluster. Which will also probably be as far as he is allowed to go unless very drastic things happen. If he reaches Khan its because the clan is very desperate and he is the one bright spot in the cluster ******.
On an entirely different note... I wouldn´t be surprised if, on the matter ComGuard warship reactivation, a compromise would be found eventually.
Reactivating a mothballed warship is fasted than building one from scratch. So as long as ComStar is aware when the keel is laid for a new AFFC warship, they can reactivate more of their own before that AFFC warship is finished.
At the same time no one really builds warships anymore and even comstar just has a head start from a tiny cadre of spacers and shipwrights and not having to relearn the tech from scratch but to actually get a useful navy they will need to build back up to it. Refits are a start but they need to be looking to build ships that fit their actual needs not rely on relic ships that in many cases even they have to custom build parts for.
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It's unlikely Sharks will be among invasion Clans. Ace is a trinary commander and the best he can hope is becoming a cluster commander by the time the invasion trials happen and you can be sure that Shark Khan will not include his cluster in the invasion trials, so Shark role would be as in OTL. Thus his influence on clan matters will likely be over longer time.
However, in spite of khan's hatred, his cluster might end up replacing Third Shark Regulars at the proxy battle (it's not necessary to be Tukayyid). Will he backstab Hawker? Will he return to Clanspace a hero? Or will he get captured and join ComGuards, possibly 472nd division.
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At the same time no one really builds warships anymore and even comstar just has a head start from a tiny cadre of spacers and shipwrights and not having to relearn the tech from scratch but to actually get a useful navy they will need to build back up to it. Refits are a start but they need to be looking to build ships that fit their actual needs not rely on relic ships that in many cases even they have to custom build parts for.
True. But reactivating mothballed ships are a rate of one or two per ship in the Inner Sphere gives them a lot of time to get good at building ships before they run out of mothballled ships to match Inner Sphere naval strength with - and the spare budget for it, too. As opposed to reactivating them all ASAP, which gives them a fleet that can curbstomp the AFFC navy twenty times over, which is about eighteen times more than they could possibly need to.
It's unlikely Sharks will be among invasion Clans. Ace is a trinary commander and the best he can hope is becoming a cluster commander by the time the invasion trials happen and you can be sure that Shark Khan will not include his cluster in the invasion trials, so Shark role would be as in OTL. Thus his influence on clan matters will likely be over longer time.
However, in spite of khan's hatred, his cluster might end up replacing Third Shark Regulars at the proxy battle (it's not necessary to be Tukayyid). Will he backstab Hawker? Will he return to Clanspace a hero? Or will he get captured and join ComGuards, possibly 472nd division.
I think he might rise to command a cluster in a way similar to how Aidan Pryde got to command the Falcon Guards - an honorless officer handpickedd to command a dishonored unit filled of dishonored warriors, who are expected to die in the process of perhaps restoring some honor to that unit.
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It's unlikely Sharks will be among invasion Clans. Ace is a trinary commander and the best he can hope is becoming a cluster commander by the time the invasion trials happen and you can be sure that Shark Khan will not include his cluster in the invasion trials, so Shark role would be as in OTL. Thus his influence on clan matters will likely be over longer time.
It depends on a number of factors. With a bloodname and solid record they cant really deny him a chance at a cluster and the current khan is a crusader ****** who has pissed off the clan with bullshit. Apparently among other things like curtailing civilian right he banned all freebirths from front line duty? He only survives by claiming infighting would greatly weaken the clan but given Aces antics the khan might find himself facing a trial of refusal...
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True. But reactivating mothballed ships are a rate of one or two per ship in the Inner Sphere gives them a lot of time to get good at building ships before they run out of mothballled ships to match Inner Sphere naval strength with - and the spare budget for it, too. As opposed to reactivating them all ASAP, which gives them a fleet that can curbstomp the AFFC navy twenty times over, which is about eighteen times more than they could possibly need to.
They cant really afford to activate them all right now anyway. They dont have near the crew or officers to man them even if they have the cash. A few at a time like i said lets them build up.
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Being constantly underestimated is a superpower in a society built on might makes right... ^-^
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Opalescent Reflections
Dealer’s Choice
Chapter 4
McKenna, Strana Mechty
Kerensky Cluster, Clan Homeworlds
2 August 3048
Ace was glad of his sunglasses as he waited for the one technician he’d been allowed to requisition to finish prepping the Nova. Granted, only the anti-missile systems needed ammunition but there were a thousand ways for something as complicated as an omnimech to go wrong and some of them might even be intentional.
The simple fact was that it would only take a bad batch of coolant to leave him in deadly danger, and Ace wouldn’t have wagered a single glass of water that the thought hadn’t crossed the mind of someone in Clan Burrock.
The Grand Melee would take place in a more or less circular set of trenches carved by miners so long ago that there was almost nothing left of their work except the flat-bottomed canyons, with occasional slopes in and out. Field supply and repair vehicles had been driven out to provide bare minimum facilities for those competing, laid out a few hundred meters apart from each other in a depression that should keep them safe from any weapons fire inside the old open pit mine.
“Is everything good?” Ace asked as Gideon closed up the last panel that he’d been checking.
“If there is a fault then I cannot find one.” The tech was easily twice Ace’s age and his left eye had been replaced by a cybernetic at some point. “If you fail out there, it will be your fault.”
“As it should be.” Ace offered his hand and the old man looked surprised before shaking it. (Privately, Ace thought that if anyone was likely to sabotage him it would be the tech, but he’d chosen Gideon himself so that would also be his fault.) “There are fewer people than I expected.”
Close to sixty warriors had been at the bloodchapel to submit their names while Ace was present and only thirty-one would have been nominated to enter the trial directly. That should have left at least twenty ‘mechs here for the melee, all competing for the one remaining slot, but instead there were only fourteen including Ace.
Gideon shook his head. “Also your own fault, quiaff?”
Ace removed his sunglasses and gave the tech a quizzical look. “How so?”
“You killed Felipe Enders. With another bloodright open, some of those who might have been here think they are better waiting and see who survives this trial. Some candidates will die, no doubt, leaving sponsors looking for new people to nominate.”
Under the strict interpretation of the rules of a trial of bloodright, each bloodnamed member of House Enders could nominate only one warrior for the trial, with the remainder chosen by the house leader. However, like many bloodhouses whose numbers had dwindled, there was an informal understanding that the House leader would endorse a second nomination from each of the bloodnamed.
“I suppose that makes sense,” Ace admitted. He looked around. “So those who are still here are the ones who do not expect to be picked even as a back-up.”
Gideon nodded sagely. “The desperate. The dangerous. Warriors like you.”
He nodded. “Well, this was never going to be easy.”
“Try not to get too wrecked for me to put your ‘mech back together,” the technician advised. “That cost me my one shot at a bloodname.”
Ace jerked his head around. He’d known that Gideon had been a warrior once, but it was unexpected to hear it from the man himself.
Gideon nodded. “I won a grand melee for the Eriksen bloodname - but in the rush to repair the damage to my Mad Dog’s legs we all missed a damaged coolant line. It burst the first time I fired after that, then the reactor scrammed with my second salvo.” He reached down and tapped his leg. “Back then I was young enough to have a replacement cloned, but it ended any chances of getting nominated - and I knew the grand melee was a loser’s game.”
“And yet here I am,” Ace pointed out.
“You will probably lose,” the technician admitted. “But I would not have listened when I was your age. And who knows. Maybe you will prove me wrong.” He sounded wistful and then shook his head sharply. “But only if you get going. There’s only an hour left and you need to be in position before then.”
Ace didn’t think there was that much of a hurry, but he suspected the technician was changing the subject because he didn’t want to discuss his past further. And it would be as comfortable inside the cockpit as it was out here - perhaps more so.
Climbing up the side of the Nova, he took his time making sure that everything was connected properly, then ran a complete diagnostic. It wasn’t at all likely that he would find anything Gideon had missed (or carried out, his paranoia reminded him) but there was no harm in checking.
Once everything came up green, Ace marched the Nova up to where a Rifleman wearing Goliath Scorpion markings was looking down into the canyons, its radar dish rotating lazily - something that reminded Ace of the warrior inside. Ellison Enders also seemed lazy, at first glance, but as he’d displayed in the bloodchapel, when he acted it was with deadly effect. No doubt he was similarly decisive in the Rifleman.
“Eager to get started, quiaff?” the older warrior asked. “Very well.” There was a rattle over the radio. “Very well, you get the five position to start. There’s a flag out near the south end of the grounds - make sure your ‘mech is standing within twenty meters of it.”
“Aff, loremaster.” As acting head of the Bloodhouse, Ellison would serve in that role for the purposes of the Trial.
“Keep your ‘mech powered up and your weapons offline until I tell you to,” the Goliath Scorpion added. “If anyone fires before the Trial begins, I will hunt them down. And I will be very annoyed at having to make an effort when everyone involved in this should know better.”
Ace chuckled.
“Do you think I am joking?”
“Neg, loremaster. I have enough enemies without risking your sting.”
Ellison also laughed. “Yes, you do. Carry on.”
Ace marched down the stone ramp and turned sharply to the south. At least the chances were good that no one would try to get an early shot at him before the Trial. If the loremaster had to step in then the entire grand melee might have to be restarted and no one sane would want to have to go through this twice.
He noticed a flag not far south of the ramp up on one of the many mesas that had been left as miners followed seams of minerals. It was clearly marked with a number four, so he kept going until he found a second flag. This one had a five on it - and at least from the height of a ‘mech cockpit, the location was in line of sight of the previous flag. Ace suspected that the next flag along would mark a position he could see as well - although neither of those mechs would be able to see each other due to various obstructions. Looking across the mine he wondered how many of the other thirteen contenders he’d be able to see when this began.
As the clock counted down, Ace found out that the answer was four. Both his immediate neighbors were Burrocks - a Ice Ferret to his left and an Adder to his right. Neither ‘mech was as large as his Nova, which made some sense. Clan Burrock weren’t as obsessed with small, fast battlemechs as Clan Ice Hellion, but they did mostly deploy light and medium battlemechs. Most of the heavier opposition would probably come from the other three Clans. He knew that there were some heavier omnimechs but with them having been inside their field bases when he entered, he’d not identified which Clans they were from. Two Mad Dogs, which were very common, a Summoner that might be the most formidable ‘mech in the melee, and a Phoenix Hawk that was technically an assault mech by tonnage. One of the Mad Dogs and a Shadow Hawk were distantly visible on the far side of the arena, outside of even the most optimistic weapon’s range..
Ace stretched lightly within the cockpit, waiting for the clock to tick down to the starting time. Two minutes remained when Ellison’s voice cut across the radio channel being used for announcements. “All participants may render their weapons live. If you have a technical problem you may announce your withdrawal any time up to the starting time… after that, it is your own misfortune.”
Flipping the safety, Ace saw the capacitors for all three of his weapons charge. The anti-missile systems flicked their muzzles left and right in a quick test as they loaded their first loads of flechettes. And he saw the warning light as both of the ‘mechs flanking him focused their sensors on him.
The nearest cover would be to move forwards and drop into one of the wider canyons that cut across the old mine, Ace thought. But they will expect that…
Both ‘mechs were carrying missiles - twin LRM packs on the lighter Adder, while the Ice Ferret was packing SRMs to back up its large laser. But there was another launcher on the Adder and Ace had a solid idea what was in that.
A buzzer marked the start of the battle and the Adder swung its arms to bear on Ace’s axis of advance, loping forwards at a respectable pace to get its weapons in line. The Ice Ferret was even faster, sprinting off the edge of the mesa and sliding down into the cover of the canyon.
Ace wheeled to face the Adder and disabled one of his anti-missile systems in sudden calculation. His ER PPCs slashed through the space between them, cutting under the mass of LRMs being fired at him. One shot tore through the hooded torso section above the Adder’s torso, the other caught the light ‘mech’s left shoulder and reduced the joint to a wreck, taking the missile launcher in the left arm out of commission.
The single anti-missile system chattered viciously, but thirty LRMs was far too many for it to handle alone and explosions smashed against the Nova as missiles got through. Nothing breached though, and as the defensive system cycled a fresh clip into it ready magazine, Ace brought the other back online.
A single missile sped from the small launcher tucked into the right chest of the Adder, and the anti-missile system he’d held back carved it out of the air without the slightest difficulty.
Slamming both his feet down on his jump jets, Ace bounded his Nova back and into the canyon along the edge of the arena. Without the NARC beacon that the Adder had tried to catch him with, once he was out of sight it would be hard to locate one ‘mech in the metal-rich rocks of the arena.
…but counterversely, if he had been caught then the beacon would have likely told every Burrock in the melee exactly where he could be found.
Just before he dropped out of sight, Ace fired on the Adder again, not caring that the double-salvos coupled with the use of his jump jets would be enough to impair him. The Adder got off its own missiles before one of the particle beams caught the damaged section of the hood and ripped through it to gut the reactor and gyro assembly. The missiles that didn’t lose track and waste themselves on the canyon edge were almost all swept from the sky by his anti-missile system.
Ace faded back into the canyons, swinging through the southern end of the arena, past the Ice Ferret’s starting location. There was no use getting into fights he didn’t need to right now. He’d take an easy kill if one presented itself, but the grand melee didn’t go to the warrior with the most kills - just the one who was last standing. He’d already taken light damage - better to let the other contenders wear themselves down.
The strategy served him long enough for the Nova’s temperature to drop back to nominal levels and work his way around towards the western end of the arena when he ran into a Conjurer that had pristine Fire Mandrill markings: clearly someone with the same idea but who had avoided an initial clash.
They’d run into each other around a corner, finding themselves basically face to face - Ace used the barrel of his left ER PPC to bat away the large pulse laser mounted in the Conjurer’s right arm before it could bear.
The Fire Mandrill tried to use his left arm to deflect Ace’s other arm but the young Diamond Shark had drawn the arm back and tucked it against the side of his ‘mech. At a range of less than three meters the particle beam ripped into the front of the Conjurer but somehow failed to penetrate.
He fired the pulse laser beside the cockpit but despite the trail of damage it caused, the Conjurer still seemed undamaged.
The same could not be said of the Conjurer’s lasers - both of the medium lasers dug into the left side of the Nova’s forward-thrust torso and then the missiles fired at far too close a range for his anti-missile systems to do anything. One missile caught the rent in his armor and the medium pulse laser suddenly went black on the weapons display.
Swinging the left arm of the Nova up, Ace leveled the only weapon he still had ready to fire directly at the cockpit. He could vaguely see the face of the Fire Mandrill mechwarrior through the armorglass, then his own cockpit opaqued itself to shield his eyes from the glare of the ER PPC.
Despite that he was left blinking, but the Conjurer’s mechwarrior was no longer visible. Nor was most of the other medium ‘mech’s cockpit.
The next minute, a stream of autocannon shells blasted into the rockface, the only warning Ace had that another ‘mech was coming. And since they couldn’t have been aiming at him, probably more than one.
Ace leant the Nova forward against the Conjurer, covering his cockpit and hit the reactor reset. He couldn’t shutdown fully but the power plant did cycle fully down and Ace set it to only bring power up to minimum levels. Hopefully…
The Summoner, armor plating all down one thigh ripped to shreds and hanging on only because it hadn’t been fully severed above the knee, ran around the corner with the torso twisted so it could fire its autocannon back at the pursuer…
…whoever it was wouldn’t notice that he wasn’t shut down.
The Phoenix Hawk raced after the Summoner, both autocannon raking it with cluster ammunition as soon as it got around the corner. This did a lot of fairly superficial damage, and also completed tearing away the thigh armor from that leg. The myomers underneath were shredded by the explosives, which could have left the seventy-ton Omnimech falling flat on its face if the mechwarrior inside hadn’t done a truly magnificent job of keeping himself upright.
The Summoner unleashed a full alpha strike into the Phoenix Hawk, the most obvious effect of which was the ER PPC tearing away the jump jet intakes above the left shoulder, and putting half a dozen modest craters into the paintwork.
That was when the third in this little battle arrived, jumping directly over Ace and landing right next to the Phoenix Hawk. The Vapor Eagle had the Goliath Scorpion’s badge painted on its shoulders and landed delicately next to the much larger Hells’ Horses Phoenix Hawk, using its pulse lasers to tear what was left of the Summoner’s leg off.
The fall of the Burrock Omnimech just gave the Hells’ Horse mechwarrior a new adversary and it barely hesitated before turning its autocannon on the new arrival. Flaring its jump jets, the smaller ‘mech dodged away, turning to spray the Phoenix Hawk with its machineguns.
Probably trying to cool off, Ace decided. He adjusted his controls, trickling what power the fusion reactor was providing into the capacitors of his PPCs.
The Phoenix Hawk and Vapor Eagle danced around each other, exchanging three successive salvos. The Hells’ Horse ‘mech was less able to avoid the hits but more able to weather them - the Goliath Scorpion didn’t get away unscathed but cluster rounds couldn’t really knock it out without more hits than were landing.
The duel ended when the Scorpion jetted themselves in front of the fallen Summoner, which took the opportunity to re-enter the fight - firing both arm-mounted weapons while flat on its back. The PPC lit up the Vapor Eagle from behind and then the Burrock’s cluster rounds ripped through the ruptured armor and gutted the interior.
For a moment the Vapor Eagle stood, smoking and helpless, between the two much larger ‘mechs. And then both of the Phoenix Hawk’s guns spoke again - the impacts blasting the wreck of the medium ‘mech to crash down upon the Summoner, pinning its weapon arms beneath fifty-five tons of weight.
Well, that had been dramatic, Ace thought. Both PPCs were charged and who knew how long it would take for someone else to arrive?
Dialing up the reactor, he started the Nova moving as soon as there was enough power to get the myomers flexing - however sluggishly. He only had to shift sideways a little and raise the arms, after all.
The Phoenix Hawk’s pilot didn’t seem to notice anything until both PPCs scored hits at the base of what would have been its spine for a human, the particle beams wiping away one of the jump jets and then digging into the gyro.
The Hells Horses mech tried to turn around only to pivot so far to one side that it fell flat. His reactor now at full power, Ace moved around outside of its arc of fire and deliberately blasted one of the Phoenix Hawk’s arms to scrap before moving over to wreck the Summoner’s remaining leg. He didn’t want either of them getting up.
“Diamond Shark,” Ellison challenged him. “You have been accused of re-engaging after conceding.”
“I dialed my reactor down to minimum,” he answered. “It was never off.”
“...I will want to see your BattleROMs,” the loremaster decided after a second’s thought. “You may continue the melee, but if the records do not prove your case then I will kill you myself, quiaff?”
“Aff, loremaster.” Ace worked his way into the maze, this time heading for the center of the arena.
There were at least five ‘mechs down so far, probably more. That didn’t mean caution wasn’t needed, but it also meant that survivors were either going to have been fighting in the center and therefore damaged, or lurking in the edges. Better to pick off the damaged while he might have an edge in armor.
Move to a corner, jump out ready to fire. Repeat at the next corner. Then again, all the time keeping half an eye on the back.
Near the middle of the mines, a broad slope led down to what was the lowest section of the diggings. A Griffin lay at the top, missing its cockpit, while a Viper was sprawled at the bottom - missing the left leg and left arm. Ace paused and looked at the Viper. It looked as if the Fire Mandrill had been shot at from around the corner to the right of the slope. Which suggested someone had launched an ambush.
Turning aside, Ace moved the Nova carefully along the ridge above the slope until he could look down over the corner.
There stood a familiar looking Ice Ferret, leaning against the wall. One leg below the knee was a blackened cinder, but it was still aiming all the weapons it had at the corner - at least until its sensors must have picked up on him.
Both arms came up, but not in time to beat a pair of particle beams. The left arm was torn entirely off the Ice Ferret by Ace’s fire, then the second beam struck the leg that wasn’t half destroyed and made it a matching pair.
The SRMs fired upwards as the Ice Ferret fell on its back mostly got swatted out of the air, Ace twisting to shield the damaged left side of his Nova from those that came through. Then he fired his right PPC again, smashing through the right arm, destroying the missile launcher.
Pulling back behind the screen of the cliff edge, Ace let his temperature settle.
“This is Ellison Enders,” the Goliath Scorpion declared. “All combatants are to stand down. The grand melee is over. Star Captain Ace is the last warrior standing and unless he is so stupid as to have cheated in a way that his BattleROMs would make clear, he has won the last slot in the Trial’s tournament stage.”
Hilton Head, North America
Terra, Sol System
2 August 3048
“So before we discuss the proposals to discuss the ComGuards warship fleet, there is another development we should consider,” Wei Rong told the First Circuit. This piece of news had taken a while to reach her but that wasn’t ROM’s fault. It took time for news from the Periphery to reach Terra at the best of times.
“If this is about the Solar Shade,” Andrew Norris observed, “Please remember that Primus Marteen suffered as a result of focusing too much on Terran affairs and not enough on the larger picture.”
Wei gave her fellow historian a sour look. “I am extremely aware that political violence can affect us.” Andrea Marteen’s death might have been an accident but both her successor and his political rivals had blamed each other for the explosion, leading to some of the darkest days of ComStar’s history. “However, this is not about the Solar Shade. We’ve just had news that Marius O’Reilly has passed away.”
There was a quiet “Who?” from Joe Murphy
“House O’Reilly rule over the Marian Hegemony,” Precentor Atreus reminded her colleague. “Dare we hope that this will lead to a downswing in piracy along the League border.”
“Hope is pleasant but may be premature. Marius’ successor Sean has apparently adopted the title of Caesar rather than the customary Imperator. The two men weren’t close, there was a scandal two years ago when Sean was found to be siphoning funds earmarked for colonization efforts into his personal finances.” Wei smiled slightly. “Held in Terran banks.”
“How did the late Imperator pass away?” asked Gwyn Thorne.
“A climbing accident on one of their more recent colonies.” Wei shrugged. “ROM are investigating, as are other interested parties but we have fairly limited resources - the Stella Maris HPG station is only a Class B facility.”
“I thought the Marian capital was on Alphard?”
“There’s already a planet called Alphard in the Free Worlds League,” Tiger Lily lectured her colleague from Rasalhague. To avoid confusion, the HPG station in the Marian capital city is named for the nearby sea.”
“Why not use the city name?” enquired Norris.
“Because that’s called Nova Roma, which is also a planet in the Free Worlds League. House O’Reilly is not very imaginative when it comes to names.”
“Their naming sense aside,” Wei redirected the conversation, “the newest O’Reilly’s change of his official title suggests that he sees a new role for himself and his nation. Marius failed in an attempt to take control of Astrokraszy ten years ago, so this may mean the new Caesar will be more diplomatic - or more probably, he’ll try to exceed his father’s ambition.”
“Does he have the forces for that?” Tiger Lily asked. “The Marian Hegemony isn’t all that impressive.”
“Three battlemech battalions aren’t enough to pose a strategic threat, but if he wanted more then it’s possible the Caesar might be able to obtain them. He’s well placed to draw forces from the FWLM away from their border with the Federated Commonwealth.”
“And Hanse Davion would find such support cheap - after all, he’d only need to approve the sale of equipment rather than subsidize it,” Buckley guessed. “That could have a disproportionate effect on the politics of the region.”
Murphy nodded. “More probably older equipment intended for militia could be redirected - it would be harder to trace back to the Federated Commonwealth, and with a solid conventional force to help him defend and control his own worlds, O’Reilly would be freer to raid his neighbors.”
Wei nodded. “I trust that the two of you will look out for signs that the Federated Commonwealth is making efforts to reach out to Periphery realms. However,” she tapped her podium. “I have to stress that no pre-emptive actions are to take place. A number of previous Precentors have decided to pursue private agendas without consulting the First Circuit. We’re still picking up the pieces for activities that weren’t reported. We can’t afford to add to that.”
Both Precentors representing Federated Commonwealth capitals nodded. One of the Joes seemed more annoyed at the reminder than the other, but that didn’t surprise Wei. While Buckley sulked, Murphy asked: “And the other end of that connection… should we reach out ourselves?”
“I think we should,” Thorne said. “If we can steer them from piracy to formal trade then the Hegemony could be a stabilizing influence rather than a problem.”
“Expanding our presence there would be expensive,” Tiger Lily said slowly, “But it could pay off. The Hegemony has added three colonies to its size in the last twenty years. Additional HPGs would help them to control their growing empire.”
Wei brought up a map of the rimwards periphery in the middle of the chamber, stars glittering in the colors of their nations and with intensity marking the capability of the HPG stations. “A short chain of HPG stations could connect Thraxa in the Magistracy to Alphard. I believe the Magistrix would approve, if only to make it easier for her to watch her neighbor.”
“Can we afford that?” asked Norris.
Wei frowned. More budgetary problems. “Explorer Corps activity in that region could support the shipping of the HPGs and support equipment. Land and local construction materials would be the question. I don’t believe we can predict that, but it’s worth opening discussions with Sean O’Reilly. He might be willing to grant the land required in exchange for the benefits to infrastructure of having an HPG station’s facilities to support a fledgling colony.”
“And ComGuards garrisons,” added Murphy. “If he’s half-pirate then he won’t respect our presence unless we can show a stick as well as the carrot.”
“Quite so.” Wei tapped her chin. “Very well, on the one hand we’ll arrange a diplomatic approach to discuss expanding the HPG service but on the other I’ll discuss having Precentor-Martial Focht redirect some of our anti-piracy operations from elsewhere in the periphery to increase our presence. That would be a good idea in any case - if the Caesar wishes to expand his empire by force then having an extra division in the Magistracy, the Lothian League and the rim provinces of the Free Worlds League will give us options.”
Thorne grimaced. “Let us hope that there’s no need for them.”
“If we can extend the peace of Blake via diplomacy that would be vastly preferable,” Wei agreed. “But however much we hope for the best, we should also prepare for the worst. Sean O’Reilly is hardly a shining paragon - and we’re dealing with an organized state that endorses slavery. We may have to tolerate that custom in the Confederation or the Combine, but that doesn’t make it a mark of civilization.”
“I wouldn’t raise your hopes too high for social change,” muttered Precentor Sian. Rachel Orchard spoke rarely, but she had a good record of predicting the paranoid leaps of judgment made by Chancellor Romano Liao which was perhaps more valuable than being outspoken while in council.
“Are there any other suggestions with regard to the developing situation around the Marian Hegemony?” When no one spoke up, Wei banished the map. “I’ll keep the First Circuit updated on the outcome of our diplomatic approaches. Please do likewise if O’Reilly reaches out to other governments.”
There were nods from the other precentors.
“And now can we discuss our warship fleet?” Buckley suggested. “I can’t say that I agree with sending ships into extensive rebuilding as a solution to our current vulnerability.”
“There is no current vulnerability!” exclaimed Murphy. “You’re talking about a design that only exists on paper.”
“As far as we know,” stressed the Toyamist. “For all we know, this could be only a tiny part of building programme that’s well advanced. We’ve already discovered that we managed to lose an entire repair yard of our own - that’s how easily this can be hidden.”
“Now you’re being ridiculous.” Norris shook his head. “The yard that was lost was mothballed. The financial costs of building a warship fleet couldn’t possibly be missed. I’ve no doubt Hanse Davion intends to built a number of warships, but he can’t have laid them down yet. The construction slips at Galax are no doubt exactly what they seem: the first steps towards building these corvettes.”
“Let’s begin with the basics,” Wei asserted before the quarrel could escalate. “We all agree that some additional active warships are required, given the long-term concerns of the RX-78 vessels being planned.”
Thorne looked uncomfortable but didn’t speak up.
“In addition, both our own warship specialists and the Federated Commonwealth’ planners believe that the SLDF warship doctrine isn’t suitable for a modern battlespace.” The Primus wasn’t sure she was using the last word correctly but only Joe Murphy was likely to know and he had agreed with her assessments earlier. “And the Dante class is closer to what is required.” She looked around. “So it’s important we use this window of opportunity ensure that our warships are refitted to reflect that requirement.”
“Yes, you’ve persuaded me of that,” agreed Tiger Lily.
“We cannot afford - either financially or in terms of our available shipyard slips - to carry out the rebuilding of every warship we have, at least in a reasonable timescale. If we were just reactivating them that might be feasible, but we’d then have to maintain them which slows down the refit process even more.” Wei ticked the issues off on her fingers. “The alternative of refitting two ship classes - with the cost savings of standardizing - means we can deploy ten times our current active strength, in upgraded ships, before the RX-78 becomes a reality. Tell me seriously, Precentor Buckley, do you actually feel that isn’t an adequate response to the current threat?”
“And if he’s salvaged capital vessels?”
Wei felt her eyes narrow. “Do you have any evidence of that? Any facts?”
“Not yet,” he grated.
“Once we have completed the current fleet process, then we can look at larger vessels,” she allowed. “Even if there’s no immediate threat, bringing the cruisers and battleships we have mothballed up to a higher level of capability before putting them back in storage would be a wise precaution. I’m not closing the book on any further expansion of our active fleet, but right now this is an affordable and practical solution.”
“I vote in favor of the Primus’ solution,” Norris told the First Circuit. “And I call for a vote now. If we have a majority then further debate is unneeded, if we don’t then that’s the time to look at alternatives.”
“Seconded,” agreed Tiger Lily. “And I also vote in favor.”
Murphy and Orchard also indicated their approval and Wei added her vote for a solid five votes in favor, leaving Thorne and Buckley opposing the plan for diametrically opposed reasons.
“I suppose now you want to wedge your precious Solar Shade back into the budget,” Buckley grumbled.
Wei smiled sweetly and brought up a projection of it up in the middle of the chamber. “Feel free to boast about it in New Avalon,” she suggested. “If Hanse Davion can be convinced to spend billions on terraforming abandoned worlds in the Federated Suns then it would be a much safer use of his funds than building warships.”
-
McKenna, Strana Mechty
Kerensky Cluster, Clan Homeworlds
5 August 3048
The thirty-two contenders for the (now first of two) vacant bloodright had been gathered together in a briefing room inside a Clan Burrock fortification not far from the mine used for the grand melee. Ace was amused to see that the warriors had very clearly divided into two camps.
Twenty-one Burrock mechwarriors were occupying seats on the window side of the room, while Ace was made welcome (well, relatively) along with the four Goliath Scorpions, four Fire Mandrills and pair of Hells Horses. Apparently, even the fact he’d been accused of cheating to defeat their comrade’s Phoenix Hawk didn’t offend the two Horsemen.
“I will be watching out for that ploy,” the older of the two said, offering his hand to shake once Ace sat down near them. “If Tathia had looked closely enough she would have seen that you were not fully shut down.”
Ace felt the hand close crushingly around his for a while and returned the force as best he could. “It would not work in the sort of duels we will face from now.”
“Yes. But our Clans will no doubt clash in the future,” the Horseman pointed out matter-of-factly.
Further conversation was cut off as the door opened again, admitting Ellison Enders and an unfamiliar Burrock, one wearing the rank pins of a Star Colonel. From the way the Burrocks in the room stiffened, they knew who she was.
“For those that are curious, I am no longer acting-house leader or loremaster for the Trial of Bloodright,” Ellison announced. “Abigail Enders has arrived with enough proxy votes to win that coveted honor.”
The Star Colonel looked almost as irritated with Ellison as Felipe had been, but she didn’t act on it directly. “I have reviewed the preliminaries and we will continue. The brackets for the Trial have been decided.”
From here the Trial of Bloodright was fairly simple: a single elimination tournament that would cut the participants in half (possibly literally) until after five rounds only one remained. Ace wasn’t surprised that everyone was on the edge as they saw who they would be fighting and started to plan.
The holo display at the front of the room lit up, displaying a simple inverted tree, thirty-two names at the bottom with lines leading upwards. Clan banners marked out each name, which made finding his own name easy enough. The only Diamond Shark swam at one edge of the display, with fifteen Burrocks filling out that half of the contest.
“Founder damn it!” a Burrock shouted, stabbing one finger towards Ace. “I will not be able to kill you unless you survive to the semi-finals.” It was the woman who had challenged his presence at the Bloodchapel. Annie… Annette… no Annika.
Ace forced himself to look confident. “We could get to that today if you are in a hurry.”
“No! I will kill you!” snarled a man who looked enough like Annika that they were probably from the same genestock. “Felipe was my gene-mother as well. You have done nothing but disgrace House Enders with your presence.”
“Be silent, all of you. This is a sacred trial of Bloodright, not a brawl,” Abigail Enders snapped. “Any fighting outside of a sanctioned round will be removed from contention.”
The Hell’s Horseman Ace had shaken hands with earlier leaned back slightly. “You cannot fight four rounds of the Trial in a single day.”
“You can if we do it Musketeer style,” he replied before the Star Colonel could call for silence again.
“Ah, a student of Dumas,” Ellison said brightly, speaking over Abigail Ender’s command. Ace hadn’t expected anyone to get the reference, but it didn’t seem likely that Ellison would take issue. “I haven’t seen anyone manage that though.”
“What are you talking about?” Annika asked. “If it lets me kill that freebirth, I am in favor!”
“Ellison, if this is some twisted game I will wring your neck,” Abigail declared flatly.
“Ace there brought it up. I will let him explain,” the Goliath Scorpion said with a smirk. His eyes were dancing mischievously.
“It is simple,” Ace explained. “In each round, we would normally determine randomly that one of us chooses the mode of combat and the other chooses the venue. Hunter and hunted. However, if everyone - or everyone within a certain bracket - agrees to the same mode and the same venue then we can stage them sequentially. There must be enough space on this base for several circles of equals - we all proceed to our ‘mechs and fight the rounds - then the winners move on immediately to face each other once each has been decided. Over and over until the Trial is over or someone decides not to agree to the same terms. No breaks to repair or reload.”
“That is insane,” the Hells Horseman said quietly.
Ace shrugged. “Challenging,” he admitted. “But if Annika really wants to try to kill me today, that would work. Of course, it requires everyone to agree. If anyone prefers not then she will simply have to wait.”
“I accept!” the young Burrock warrior declared. “We all accept.”
“The participants do not get to change the terms of the trial,” Abigail Enders protested.
“It sounds legitimate to me,” Ellison said mildly. “There is room in the regulations for field expedients and this keeps the spirit of the Trial complete.”
“Felipe will be avenged!” shouted Annika.
“You will not avenge the House Leader like this,” the Star Colonel declared angrily.
Another Burrock stood up. “Annika will not if I kill the freeborn first!”
“You would have to get past me first,” a mechwarrior up against the windows pointed out.
One of the Fire Mandrills shook their head, her braids flying around wildly. “I am not joining in this,” she declared.
“Raise your hand if you wish to participate in these Musketeer style trials,” Ellison said slyly.
Hands went into the air, Ace raising one of his. He hadn’t been able to get a replacement medium pulse laser for his Nova yet, since the Burrocks were mysteriously unwilling to accept a replacement in the future from Diamond Shark stocks. It appeared that he had made himself unpopular, and bringing in hardware from the nearest Diamond Shark depot would take a few days. Instead, Gideon had installed the two spare heatsinks that he had brought along and patched up the armor. Repeated repairs for multiple bouts would be a problem since that had exhausted their on-hand resources.
Fighting one extended conflict now though… that would work.
More than half the Burrock warriors agreed with the idea that Ace had just come up with, as did one of the Fire Mandrills - although that wouldn’t matter since no one else in his bracket seemed inclined to go along with it.
Not knowing the names involved, Ace wasn’t sure at first if he’d pulled it off, but peer pressure in the form of glares got two more hands up in the air and Ellison manipulated the display, highlighting everyone that agreed.
“Well, it seems that half of our trials will be done before the day is out,” the Goliath Scorpion said brightly. “Abigail, would you like to let the base commander know that we are commandeering eight of the training grounds.”
“I should forbid this.”
“Aff… but you will not,” Ellison said with a smile that put all his teeth on display. “Because the sooner this is over, the sooner you can crawl back to your office in the Burrock Watch and ignore all of us.”
Well that explained why Abigail was not house leader despite the fact she outranked Felipe, thought Ace. Most Clan warriors looked down on their brethren who took places in their Clans’ intelligence arms.
“Who even came up with such an idiotic form of trial?”
“Warriors D'Artagnan, Athos, Porthos and Aramais,” lied Ace.
“They all died, aff?”
“Neg… well, they are dead now of course. This was a long time ago. But they became great comrades.”
Abigail Enders closed her eyes for a moment. “Every cretin willing to go along with this should ready their Battlemechs,” she said at last. “I will blame all of this on you, Ellison.”
The majority of the Burrocks stampeded through the door, presumably heading for their hangar - which was conveniently well away from that being used by the visiting mechwarriors.
Ace paused and gave Ellison a questioning look.
“You want to know why I supported you?” the older warrior asked in a lower voice.
“Aff.” Although if he’d really supported Ace, not letting him get stuck with a bracket that was stacked with enemies would have been more helpful.
Ellison patted him on the shoulder. “I am a very simple man,” he whispered. “After five years of dealing with Felipe Enders and his ilk, I have learned to truly hate Burrocks. Whether you win or die, this will kill a lot of them.” Then he laughed and slapped Ace’s shoulder. “Go, I look forward to seeing a fine performance.”
Ace left the briefing room and headed for his own hangar. Fortunately it was fairly close to the briefing room since this was usually used for pre-Trial briefings.
“Are you starting already?” Gideon asked as Ace arrived. “I was hoping we would have time for spare parts to arrive.”
“Well, if I survive until sundown then we should have all the time we need?”
The former warrior blinked. “Is the second round going to be delayed for several days?”
“No, I am fighting the first four rounds back-to-back,” Ace explained, stripping off his jumpsuit and grabbing the piloting suit from the case where he’d left it.
“They cannot force you to do that!” protested Gideon.
“It was my idea.” Ace pushed one leg into the suit, then the other. “Look at it this way: once this is over we have days for all the repairs needed.”
“Assuming you survive.”
“Aff, assuming that. But if I do not, then it is not my problem.”
Gideon groaned. “This has to be the craziest Trial of Bloodright there has ever been. It is not supposed to work like this.”
“If it is the craziest then we might get a line or two in the Remembrance.”
“That is not always a good thing. I would wish you luck, but…”
Ace finished putting his arms through the piloting suit and zipped it up. “I have your help, which is worth more than all the luck in the universe. I could not do this without you.”
“I saw you trying to connect those coolant lines, you really could not.” But Gideon saluted Ace crisply as he said it.
Climbing up into the Nova, Ace powered it up. The flexibility of the omnimech was paying off - fitting two heatsinks in place of the laser would have taken days on a mere battlemech. He took a little more care with the power up just in case, but everything went smoothly and the Nova loped out of the hangar. “Traffic control, this is Star Captain Ace. There should be a training ground assigned to me, quiaff?”
The Burrock technician did not appear to be infected with the desire to kill Ace. “Aff, we have just received orders,” he replied professionally. “Proceed westwards towards route marker Gamma Seven, then turn north. All weapons are to be kept safed until the trial is initiated.”
Ace checked that this was the case and marched across the base. OmniMechs were flowing out of the hangar, hopefully their own weapons similarly inactive, as the Burrocks came out to fight him. With a bit of luck, they would not realize that the result of this would mostly be them fighting each other - or if they did realize, then their pride might keep them from backing down. There were no mere BattleMechs visible - unlike those risking the grand melee, it appeared that the Burrocks with sponsorship were able to arrange OmniMechs for the trial.
As he moved north, he came to a section of the base carved into square sections by heavy lines of banked earth, berms taller than his ‘mech. He thought for a moment they were defensive structures but then realized they were each a regular three kilometers square - dedicated dueling grounds. This was perfect.
Well, perfect would be for him to be able to kill them all by ambush. But this would be good enough.
“Your training ground is number eleven,” the technician instructed him.
“Thanks.” Ace saw the turning and found that another Nova was already waiting for him - in Prime configuration, like the one Val had used in their Trial of Position. For a moment, he wondered where the young woman was. She had been assigned to Omega Galaxy, a garrison force, and not crossed paths with him since then. What would she make of this? Would she be annoyed that he was causing waves by trying for a bloodname, or would she accept him as a Diamond Shark now?
Then Ace banished the thought. All that mattered now was defeating the other Nova, preferably before it chewed him to pieces. He was tempted to eject his anti-missile system’s ammunition - it would do nothing against this opponent and if it exploded it could leave him crippled. But if he then needed it later, there would be no time to get it reloaded.
“Warriors,” Abigail Enders declared over the radio. “You have been chosen for your merits and you have put yourselves forwards, as the Great Founder decreed, to risk your blood in battle for the honor of bearing the name of one of the first generation of the Clans. In the name of Nicholas Kerensky and of Vladimir Enders, you are to fight with honor. I will sound two bells. On the first you may activate your weapons, however you may only fire after the second bell. Each of you will have technicians monitoring your trials - when they declare the winner, they speak with my voice and you will obey them as if they were myself.” Then she paused. “For over two centuries, we have chosen our best to lead through the Trial of Bloodright. Prove yourselves to be the best.”
Then the first bell sounded. Ace powered up the ER PPCs, letting the capacitors charge. He watched the Nova in front of him - it was very still, both arms lifted and transparently aimed right at him. They were just on the edge of the range for the laser, well inside PPC range.
Would the Burrock try to end this in a single salvo? Probably - otherwise they’d have to worry about him getting out of reach and picking them apart.
The second bell rang and Ace hammered down his jump jets, sending the Nova hurtling upwards as fast as he could. Lines of fire lanced through the air just below him, carving away one toe from his left foot and sending the Nova slightly off balance as it rose.
Ace adjusted the jump jets to counter that and hovered his crosshairs over the other Nova that was frozen in place - having overheated entirely on that all or nothing gambit. One of PPCs blew through the air and hit the ground, Ace having fired just before he’d fully stabilized.
Then he fired the second and it intersected with the Nova’s cockpit.
A moment later, Ace landed, more heavily than he would have liked. He’d used too much propellant earlier, but that might have saved him more damage from the lasers. Losing one toe wasn’t that bad.
“Victory to Star Captain Ace,” a woman said quietly, sounding slightly shocked. “Please wait while we determine your opponent.”
Taking a deep breath, Ace watched the temperature gauge drop down towards normal, while the jump-jets and Extended Range PPCs charged.
Two minutes later by his clock, a recovery team arrived to check the Nova. A medic diligently checked the cockpit although the result was more or less pre-determined.
“Star Captain Ace, your next trial will take place in training area seventeen,” the same woman informed him while the medic was shaking his head. “Turn left when exiting training area twelve and follow the road for twenty kilometers.”
Ace obeyed, backing the Nova out onto the road and then sprinting along the highway. It took a quarter hour to reach the destination and he cracked the canopy to let the wind cool out the inside of his cockpit. Halfway through his journey, another medium Omnimech chased after him, arms pumping. It was a Shadow Cat, slightly smaller than his Nova, but considerably faster. Even without activating its myomer accelerator signature circuitry (which the occupant would be a fool to do outside a battle since the technology still wasn’t 100% reliable), the Shadow Cat could run faster and jump further than Ace’s omnimech. It also boasted a fractionally larger payload, but the cost was slightly lighter armor protection - particularly on the back. The theory was that the Shadow Cat would use its agility to deny the enemy shots at the rear armor - which might be true in a duel.
Shifting sideways, Ace let the Burrock Shadow Cat run past him and tracked it on his sensors. The mechwarrior had equipped it with a large laser in each arm and a Streak SRM launcher, the Diamond Shark noted. He wasn’t surprised to see that it turned into training area seventeen.
“Mechwarriors may activate their weapons,” Ellison’s voice advised as Ace entered the square combat zone. He hadn’t been told his weapons should be turned off, so that wasn’t a requirement. “This is the second round of your Trial of Bloodright. Each of you has defeated one of your peers to be here, but only one may proceed further. On my command, you are clear to decide in battle who it will be.”
Ace watched the Shadow Cat shift, its legs braced - it was either going to hold ground or the mechwarrior was going to rely on his jump jets not the ‘mechs legs for his first move. He adjusted his own jumpjets.
“Begin!” shouted Ellison.
Instantly the Shadow Cat arced up into the air on columns of fire. Ace hammered his own jumpjets - all facing directly backwards and ran the Nova forwards. The two ‘mechs converged on the tactical map, looking as if they were near collision, although in fact the Shadow Cat was simply above the Nova as Ace spun on the spot.
He saw no sign of the lasers firing - most likely they simply missed, but the missile warning alarm went off as the two anti-missile systems chattered.
Missile contrails cut turns as the guided SRMs fought to overcome their initial heading and arc in on Ace. Superb engineering paid off as all of them rounded upon the Nova, but only half made it through the gauntlet of his missiles and Ace was firing his PPCs directly upwards.
The Burrock warrior landed his Shadow Cat less than fifty meters from Ace, already turned around. Both the legs were blackened by PPC damage, though neither failed to absorb the terrific impact of forty-five tons hitting the ground.
Both lasers fired, blue lines briefly linking the two ‘mechs - the battle computer highlighted armor panels all across the front of the Nova as compromised as relative motion dragged the Burrock’s aiming point across Ace’s ‘mech.
Then the ER PPCs finished charging and Ace fired, aiming low.
The particle beams caught the digitigrade lower limbs of the Shadow Cat and violated them. One knee snapped outright and the other leg flailed wildly as the myomer controls overloaded, sending the Shadow Cat through a wild dance that was clearly under no one’s control and inevitably ended in the beak-like cockpit burying itself in the soft soil of the training ground.
The Burrock inside didn’t seem willing to take that as an outcome, driving one arm’s laser muzzle into the ground so that he could try to bring the other to bear.
Ace circled to stay ahead of the limb, dropping his crosshairs onto the cockpit. “You are a skilled warrior,” he observed on the general channel. “And there is another bloodright to claim. I do not think you will lack for a sponsor.”
The Shadow Cat kept trying to track him until Ace was beyond the maximum possible transversal of the laser mount… then the weapon lowered and the reactor signature faded out. Ace watched to be sure that it was off, not feigning surrender.
“Victory to Star Captain Ace,” Ellison announced, the same moment that Ace came to the conclusion that he could lower his guard. “They should have cleared your previous victim out of training ground twelve by now. Return there and wait for your next opponent.”
This time, as Ace left the training ground, he saw other ‘mechs moving - many of them damaged. He powered down his weapons, not wanting to be accused of threatening other contenders - but despite this, he kept a close eye out for anyone who might attempt an ‘accidental’ weapons discharge into his damaged armor. They might find disqualification for this Trial of Bloodright to be acceptable when they could apply to join the next one, while Ace might not be in a position to contend for anything ever again!
Perhaps the same thought had crossed their minds, because the ‘mechs gave each other wide berths as they passed each other, careful not move arm-mounted weapons in a way that could be considered hostile. Two heavy transports crawled down the road as well, carrying the downed Nova from Ace’s first round and a much more heavily damaged Stormcrow: someone else who had been taken out of the contest, no doubt.
No one was waiting at him at the training ground - the ground was still marked where the Burrock Nova had been disabled. Ace marched himself over to one of the back corners and parked his Nova, powering up the weapons in case someone tried to catch him off guard. Both of his fights had been over in rapid succession, possibly his next opponent was still fighting their second round.
Opening a storage space, he pulled out a bottled sports drink and unsealed it. One thing that he did miss from the Griffins back at the Castrum was that they were more spacious than those of Clan ‘mechs. If he needed to live out of the Nova for a few days it would be challenging.
Ace drained the bottle, replenishing his fluids and minerals. He’d been waiting fifteen minutes and no one had arrived yet. He was putting the bottle back in the storage space - there was no dedicated waste disposal - when the radio lit up. It was a private channel, not an open broadcast.
Slamming the cabinet closed, Ace activated the radio. “This is Star Captain Ace.”
“Star Captain, there will be a delay before your next bout,” Abigail Enders told him flatly. “Neither of the contenders to face you in the third round is able to continue.”
Ace bit his lip. If they’d damaged their ‘mechs to the point they didn’t feel up to another round then all they needed to do was opt out of the agreement to fight immediately and Ace would have no grounds to complain. It was a purely voluntary idea.
“As such, you have been granted a bye. Congratulations on reaching the semi-final round of the Trial of Bloodright.”
He exhaled slightly in relief. So they’d been injured. Worse for them, but better for him. “Unfortunate for both of them. They are expected to recover, quaiff?”
“Aff. It will take some months,” the Star Colonel confirmed. “So they will miss both this trial and the next one. Not that I would have nominated the same one I sponsored. Agreeing to this nonsense does not give me confidence in his judgment.”
“If I win the next two rounds then I will need to make nominations. Since there are no other Diamond Sharks I know of who are eligible, I imagine I will have to consider candidates from other Clans.”
Abigail sighed audibly and cut the channel.
Ace laughed lightly and put his feet up to rest until the matter resolved itself.
That resolution arrived when the sun was visibly lowering, a battered OmniMech limping into the training ground. It took Ace a moment to recognise that it was a Timber Wolf - much larger than his own Nova. The paint was almost unrecognizable, but it had to be a Burrock by the simple logic of the brackets. The right arm was missing as high as the shoulder - perhaps severed by whatever had destroyed the missile launcher above the joint - and the other missile launcher was also in no state to be used - something had smashed through the face-plate and destroyed the tubes.
Hitting the ejection controls, Ace dumped almost a ton of anti-missile system ammunition. It seemed that he’d only have to concern himself with the PPC in the Timber Wolf’s left arm and the pulse lasers below the cockpit.
“I told you,” Annika told him through her ‘mech’s external speakers, “That I would be the one to kill you.”
“You did say that,” he admitted. “And now you get your chance to try.”
Before that riveting conversation could continue, Abigail Enders addressed them both over the radio. “You have both reached the semi-finals of the Trial of Bloodright. Three rounds stand behind you, with the warriors you have defeated to be here. Only one can continue. Annika, do you wish to continue in your current condition?”
“I will avenge my sponsor,” the mechwarrior declared. “No matter what.”
“Ace, are you also prepared?”
“Aff, I stand ready.”
“I see that both ‘mechs’ weapons are live. At the sound of the bell, you may begin.”
The tones a moment later sent Ace springing away from his starting point. He wasn’t quite fast enough though and the beam of energy from Annika’s ER PPC smashed into the Nova’s side, setting his electronics flickering.
He replied with a slightly staggered salvo from his own ER PPCs - she side-stepped enough that one stream of charged particles crossed under the Timber Wolf’s remaining arm, then the second vented its power against the already ruined missile launcher.
Pulses of laser fire chased Ace as he dodged and weaved, trying to stay ahead of the larger omnimech as his ER PPCs charged. Her own would be ready first, he thought, and he didn’t have the armor to take many hits. Depending on what was left under the charring, he wasn’t sure he could say the same about the Timber Wolf.
As he thought Annika was about to be ready to fire, Ace feinted a leap with his jump jets, only to cut them off before the Nova’s feet had fully left the ground. He let the legs collapse and ducked as low as he could. Just barely enough, as it turned out.
The PPC shot shaved armor across the dorsal surface of the Nova, leaving both shoulders twitching for a moment as the electrical charge was grounded.
Having wasted her shot, Annika took advantage of his moment of immobility and lunged in, the pulse lasers ripping through armor plating across the Nova’s chest. Already battered by the Shadow Cat, Ace could see that there were multiple breaches, and coolant levels began to fall as sections were severed and bled out despite self-sealing pipes trying to contain the damage.
He pulled both triggers and the PPCs discharged into the left side of the Timber Wolf.
One shot finished off the shoulder joint and rendered the heavier ‘mech symmetrical with both arms missing. The second tore into the plating behind the laser mounts. Whatever was behind the armor must have been part of those systems, because the battle computer rated all three pulse lasers as ineffective.
Annika screamed something incoherent. Ace was sweating as his damaged cooling system struggled to deal with the impact of the salvo. The Timber Wolf kept coming, firing with the only weapon it had left - a tertiary laser that would barely threaten an Elemental.
Firing his jump jets, Ace threw the Nova up and over the Timber Wolf. He’d left it just a little late though and he didn’t quite clear the taller ‘mech - both the large feet crashed against the smooth top of the Timber Wolf and he had to fight to get over it and land, unsteadily.
With a crash, the Burrock omnimech fell flat on its back, laser aimed at nothing but the sky.
Without arms, Ace realized, it would be challenging to get the Timber Wolf upright again. Not impossible, but rather difficult. His ER PPCs had charged now, but he really wasn’t sure he had enough coolant left for both of them. Turning, he walked through a quarter-circle as Annika tried to get the necessary traction to get one leg up and under the torso of her ‘mech.
A particle beam through one hip put a permanent halt to that ambition. Ace had considered a cockpit shot, but it felt a little too much like murder.
“This round is over,” Abigail Enders declared without emotion. “Congratulations, Star Captain Ace, on your victory. The final round will not be for several days.”
As Ace walked the Nova slowly towards the exit of the training grounds, Annika activated her speakers again.
“We will fight again, freebirth.”
“Perhaps,” he replied the same way. “But your predictions have been unreliable so far.”
-
Wow, that was some intense fighting for Ace. Also ... 3 mission kills in a day for him once again, wonder if that'll be one of his hallmarks in the future. ;-)
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Arguably it already is, thats how he got in a freeborn sibko, thats how he defeated the second mech in his TOP, and now his trial of bloodright. boy has a pair i'll give him that
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Ace really has a knack for manipulating his enemies into disastrous mistakes. Second Deathstrike for him.
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Quite the Friday treat to read! :thumbsup:
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Made it to the last round. Just getting this far is inconceivable to most clanners. They have to admit at this point he has a real chance at winning. Now things get very interesting.
If he does win and can make nominations wonder who? Or would he trade nominations as favors with is new blood kin? A lot of them are going to be utterly pissed at him. More so when he starts out pacing all of them as a ristar.
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The Scorps are going to try to grab him for sure. Bondsman, then Warrior about 30 seconds later.
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If he does win and can make nominations wonder who? Or would he trade nominations as favors with is new blood kin? A lot of them are going to be utterly pissed at him. More so when he starts out pacing all of them as a ristar.
He's a Diamond Shark. Of course those nominations are for sale. Likely for favors.
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Honestly feel a bit bad for Wei. She is trying to build peace and even most leaders in this period are willing. Both Hanse and Theodore are not interested in fighting anymore unless provoked and then comes the clans ruining everything.
He's a Diamond Shark. Of course those nominations are for sale. Likely for favors.
Might be his in and what makes him useful to the house. A lot of the house is going to hate his guts a good while if not forever. A freebirth getting a bloodname then consistently out performing the trueborn? Its going to shame them.
The Scorps are going to try to grab him for sure. Bondsman, then Warrior about 30 seconds later.
Good luck. He wont be easy to take and I doubt the Sharks will give him up easy. Even if a freebirth he does give them access to a new bloodname. If a mediocre one. If his kids are like him they might be able to steadily steal the house from the other clans.
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Oh man, rereading the part where Ace herds Burrocks to their doom is funnier each time.
Abigail Enders is like
(https://64.media.tumblr.com/5041e1f725530c4179421540f1512938/tumblr_mnost7xDVo1s3xxiwo1_400.jpg)
while Ellison Enders is like
(https://i.imgur.com/SywSfwU.jpg)
So Star Captain Ace Enders returns to clan Diamond Shark council after participating in some House Enders business and asks innocently about, you know, starting an Enders sibko in the Clan, since they have rights to it.
IH: Over my dead body!
AE: Well bargained and done.
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Might be his in and what makes him useful to the house. A lot of the house is going to hate his guts a good while if not forever. A freebirth getting a bloodname then consistently out performing the trueborn? Its going to shame them.Good luck. He wont be easy to take and I doubt the Sharks will give him up easy. Even if a freebirth he does give them access to a new bloodname. If a mediocre one. If his kids are like him they might be able to steadily steal the house from the other clans.
Only the Burrock Enders hate him. The ones from other Clans have some sort of solidarity thing going on. A good chunk at least have likely broken out the popcorn.
But yes, for the next couple of Trials of Bloodright, he may end up trading his nomination for favors to Enders from other Clans. Also, given that he was taken abtakha on Priori where there are noted to be several clashes between Diamond Sharks and Burrocks, it's possible they have abtakha who may eventually qualify. Alternatively, he could trade it to the Blood Spirits, who may have some abtakha looking to gain a blood name. Thus improving relations with them further.
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That's the most sinister otter I've ever seen! :D
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Don’t be fooled by otters. One article once described sea otters as “necrophiliac, serial-killing fur monsters of the sea”, which is an utterly accurate description, and river otters are just as bad. Also, that description downplays how evil the little monsters can be. Lastly, do not approach otters. Their attack strategy against larger critters like humans is literally “go for the eyes, Boo!”
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No argument there... they just don't usually LOOK that sinister... >:D
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No argument there... they just don't usually LOOK that sinister... >:D
It is all part of there plan to get you to let your guard down.
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No argument there... they just don't usually LOOK that sinister... >:D
That´s the idea of being a monster serial killer. You look all harmless and trustworthy, until it is too late.
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Oh man, rereading the part where Ace herds Burrocks to their doom is funnier each time.
Abigail Enders is like:
Something subtle, Ace didn’t just suggest Musketeer style dueling. He also inserted the idea it would be in their battlemechs. So he shaped the conversation to play to where he was stronger, augmented vs unaugmented combat.
Probably helped by the Burrocks wanting a chance to kill Ace. And that would be easier to arrange and excuse in a mech duel.
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Something subtle, Ace didn’t just suggest Musketeer style dueling. He also inserted the idea it would be in their battlemechs. So he shaped the conversation to play to where he was stronger, augmented vs unaugmented combat.
Probably helped by the Burrocks wanting a chance to kill Ace. And that would be easier to arrange and excuse in a mech duel.
“If your opponent is of choleric temper, seek to irritate him. Pretend to be weak, that he may grow arrogant.”
― Sun Tzu, The Art of War
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I didn't think he was that subtle about it. And the Burrock Watch officer saw right through it, even if she couldn't do anything about it... ^-^
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I didn't think he was that subtle about it. And the Burrock Watch officer saw right through it, even if she couldn't do anything about it... ^-^
It kinda was. Ace jumped right from proposing speed running half the bracket to with “everyone agreeing to the same mode and same venue.” And then like the late Felipe? Preempted any debate on both by inserting the assumption it would be augmented trials and thus use the ones on base for them. And the Burrocks were so caught up in things they didn’t stop to question Ace’s “assumptions”.
As for the new Loremaster?
“Anyone that didn’t see that, or agreed to let their opponent shape the match even more before bidding isn’t worth a Bloodname.”
Though TBF if this was a more contested or prestigious Bloodname? I doubt Ace could get away with this scheme. But with the lower prestige comes lower scrutiny, I doubt you could pull the same stuff with a Kerensky Bloodright.
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Only the Burrock Enders hate him. The ones from other Clans have some sort of solidarity thing going on. A good chunk at least have likely broken out the popcorn.
But yes, for the next couple of Trials of Bloodright, he may end up trading his nomination for favors to Enders from other Clans. Also, given that he was taken abtakha on Priori where there are noted to be several clashes between Diamond Sharks and Burrocks, it's possible they have abtakha who may eventually qualify. Alternatively, he could trade it to the Blood Spirits, who may have some abtakha looking to gain a blood name. Thus improving relations with them further.
Aye but there are a lot of Burrocks and the rest are unified mostly to stand against that block presumably. He is a useful cats paw and killer weeding out the stupid, and more burrocks, for them but as a freebirth and a diamond shark that does not mean he will be welcomed with open arms. His personal presence offends most all of them and his clan represent yet another competitor for a very limited market share. So yeah he needs to be useful or he will find himself frozen out at best actively attacked at worst.
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Opalescent Reflections
Dealer’s Choice
Chapter 5
Novy Terra, Strana Mechty
Kerensky Cluster, Clan Homeworlds
15 October 3048
Steven Hawker had somehow managed to restrain his disappointment at Ace’s return to the Diamond Shark enclave. He’d even offered stilted congratulations on winning the Enders bloodname.
After the duel with Annika, the finals of the Trial of Bloodright had been anti-climatic. The Fire Mandrill mechwarrior who reached finals via the other bracket had chosen to equip his Stormcrow with the B configuration - a heavy autocannon and six extended-range medium lasers. If he’d been able to get close then that could have been decisive, but an early leg hit had doomed the plan and Ace had simply kept ahead of him and out of range for the entire duel.
On the top floor of the Diamond Shark Clan Hall, the Khan’s office looked out over a courtyard built around a statue of their totem… fish? Was a shark a fish? Ace really wasn’t sure.
Ian Hawker had his back to the door, looking down at the statue, when Steven ushered Ace into the room.
For a moment after the door closed, there was silence in the room. It was the Khan who broke that. “You have returned victorious. I am compelled to congratulate you, Ace Enders.”
“Thank you, my Khan.” If Hawker found some justification for a Trial of Grievance, then Ace wouldn’t have much choice but to fight him and whatever else he might think of the Khan, there was no doubt that his combat record was impressive.
“Your parentage was questioned, quiaff?”
“Aff, in terms of my bloodline. No one enquired about my mother’s circumstances. Once my line of descent was recognised, there were no other questions on that point.”
“Good.” Hawker sighed. “Do you know why I required you to lie if asked?”
Ace would be lying if he said he wasn’t curious, but he hadn’t been asked that. “I have no idea.”
“Your new status as a member of the Clan Council does not entitle you to an answer.” Ian Hawker turned around. “Until or unless I tell you otherwise, anyone enquiring about your mother is to be reported to my office. Mark the messages as related to the Musketeer trial that you managed to talk Clan Burrock into approving, I have had enough complaints about that to make such a message innocuous.”
“Should I expect someone to question me?” Ace had a nasty feeling that he was on the fringes of something political.
“I would be very happy if you never need to communicate with me, on this or any other matter.” The Khan scowled and moved to his desk. “Before you departed, I told Star Colonel Labov that while I led Alpha Galaxy there would be no freeborn warriors in their ranks. He has elected to challenge me on this.”
Ace wasn’t sure what to say.
Giving Ace a searching look, Ian Hawker relaxed slightly. “While you were fighting for your bloodname, Alpha Galaxy deployed to Vinton and we have secured possession of several Smoke Jaguar enclaves on that world. Valuable industrial enclaves.”
“The glory of that victory has been widely reported,” Ace admitted. The Smoke Jaguars were one of the most formidable Clans, at least on the battlefield. They weren’t considered contenders in economic terms, so losing some of their industrial capacity would hit them harder than a similar loss to the Diamond Sharks.
He hadn’t just been fighting for his own bloodname, of course. There had been the Trial of Bloodright for the vacated Bloodname of Felipe Enders. It wasn’t possible to just extend the preparations made for the trial that Ace had won - notifications had to be sent out and allowances made for travel time. More time to heal and repair…
And of course, meetings with warriors eager to obtain sponsorship from Ace. Abigail Enders had confirmed that she would accept two nominations from every bloodnamed warrior. In the end he had settled on Tathis, the Fire Mandrill mechwarrior whose Phoenix Hawk he’d destroyed during the melee and a Goliath Scorpion named Angus. Neither had reached the finals, although Tathis had at least fought well enough that Ace had told her he’d keep her in mind next time a bloodright was open.
Angus wouldn’t get that. He’d met Annika in the third round and she’d made a point of seeing that Ace’s nominee died in their duel. It didn’t make Ace feel any better about Annika winning the bloodname in the end. Maybe she was right and they would fight again.
He’d better be ready to win.
“We also took losses in the process,” the Khan continued. “Several officers lost their lives or ended their careers for other reasons, and there is a traditional requirement that Alpha Galaxy officers must have the Deathstrike Award.”
Self-consciously, Ace reached up to touch the badge on his uniform.
“Yes, and we have a vacancy for a Star Captain that will otherwise be difficult to fill without promoting a Star Commander, who would then need to be replaced in turn.” Hawker shook his head. “I have significant reservations, but Alpha Galaxy must be ready for action so I will give you this chance.”
“Thank you, my Khan.” Ace tried to sound humble, not excited. An Alpha Galaxy posting would be very prestigious - and it sounded as if there was a high likelihood of action. Perhaps against the Smoke Jaguars? They would no doubt want to reclaim their territory on Vinton.
“Thank Star Colonel Labov when you report to the Twenty-First Assault Cluster. He will no doubt be embarrassed if you show his judgment was flawed.”
And if I succeed, then you look like a fool for objecting to freeborn warriors, Ace thought. So I’ll be walking a sword’s blade - nothing has changed.
Taking the monitor of his desk, Hawker turned it to face Ace. “The Twenty-First is an Assault Cluster, your Nova would be unsuited to service in it and Star Colonel Labov has requested that you be assigned something heavier. Let no one say that our Clan spares effort when it comes to equipping our most renowned Clusters. This is a complete list of all ‘mechs available for assessment on Strana Mechty, you may pick whichever you like and configure it to your liking.”
Ace blinked at the sudden generosity. Although… he was accustomed now to the Nova. More often than not it’s agility had saved him. Was this an attempt to hinder him by placing him in a heaver ‘mech that he would find harder to operate?
“Would it be possible to take my current technician with me?” he asked, studying the list.
“Do you think Alpha Galaxy lacks for skilled technicians?!”
“No, my Khan. But we have a smooth working relationship. If I am already taking over an unfamiliar trinary of warriors, a support staff I am familiar with would be helpful.”
Hawker scowled. “Very well, but I will not be patient if you prove inept. Your new posting is very visible. What ‘mech do you want?”
Ace reached out and tapped the screen. “I see several Stormcrows.”
Hawker paused. “A Stormcrow?”
“Yes, my Khan. It is a larger and more capable omnimech than my Nova.”
Five tons heavier than the Nova, Stormcrows were newer - but the design was still over a century old. To Ace’s mind, that made them reliable. He could have taken something like the brand new Huntsman, but that design was untested. A Stormcrow’s foibles had long since been dealt with or were at least understood.
And while it wasn’t usually fitted with jump jets, Ace suspected that the OmniMech could be fitted with them and still have the tonnage to carry the same basic payload as his Nova. He’d still need to learn how to handle it with the same precision, but greater speed, agility and protection could pay off.
And most importantly, Ace thought as he locked eyes with Ian Hawker, the Khan will see it as a mistake on my part.
“Bargained well and done,” Hawker congratulated himself, though trying to make it sound as if he was speaking of Ace. “I will have a Stormcrow delivered to the Twenty-First Assault Cluster, and orders will be cut to assign your current technician as well.”
“To Vinton?” he asked.
“No. Your first mission will be here on Strana Mechty.”
Ace stared at the Khan in confusion. While trials took place on the Clans’ homeworld, by law all enclaves here were guaranteed to keep the shares equal. What was going to be fought over here that would require Clan Diamond Shark’s finest warriors?
Ian Hawker smiled, much the way a shark might. “The Grand Council is about to vote on the invasion of the Inner Sphere. And this time, we will win.” He stared at Ace, as if looking for something.
“I have no objection to the idea.” It was one debate that Ace had been happy to stay out of, when warriors took up the cause of the Wardens or the Crusaders. What did it matter to him if he was fighting another Clan or one of the Successor Lords that had torn down the Star League? “But why would this time be different from the previous occasions?”
“This time,” Hawker told him, “the Inner Sphere has discovered us. And the choice between waiting here for them to act or taking the opportunity to rebuild the Star League ourselves is no choice at all, quaiff.”
Ace thought for a moment. “Aff, that would do it. Never allow the enemy to hold the initiative,” he quoted from a tactical manual.
“Exactly. And soon we will bid for the right to join the invasion,” Ian Hawker declared proudly, eyes distant as he no doubt imagined the glories to come. “We must stop at nothing to win a place in the return to the Inner Sphere.”
Hilton Head, North America
Terra, Sol System
12 November 3048
“I’m sure there’s some reason we’re meeting here,” Andrew Norris observed as the First Circuit gathered on a beach on the east side of Hilton Head. They weren’t really dressed for it, in their formal robes.
Wei Rong opened a fridge that lurked in a small cabana, pulling out a miniature bottle of bourbon. “Anyone want a drink? Take one anyway, you may want it by the time we’re done.”
“What,” Joe Buckley asked while Norris bemusedly checked the fridge and came out with a bottle of white wine. “Is wrong with meeting in our normal chamber?”
“Fourteen listening devices as of the last count,” Wei told him, tapping the discreet earpiece she was wearing. “A ComGuards electronic warfare team are still sweeping it.” She uncapped the bottle and sipped from it. “Oh yes, that hits the spot. Bottoms up.”
“Primus, is this the time to be getting drunk? Who got bugs onto Hilton Head?” demanded Tiger Lily. “MIIO? LIC?” She was naming the intelligence services of the two halves of the Federated Suns.
“All signs point to it being ROM.”
“ROM are our intelligence service,” objected Gwyn Thorne.
Wei snorted. “Someone has to tell Precentor ROM that. Precentors ROM, that is, because it isn’t just Callow - although he seems to be involved. And as Primus, I appear to be the one who has to deliver this message.”
Joe Murphy opened a bottle of something from Glengarry’s distilleries. “Why would ROM be spying on the First Circuit?”
“Two reasons suggest themselves,” Wei told him. “Firstly, one of my predecessors likely wanted to be able to keep track of any meetings taking place when they weren’t here. Times like my recent tour of the First Circuit HPGs.” The original twelve First Circuit worlds, forming a circle around Terra, not the various national capitals. Although she might need to make such a tour some day. “Secondly, because Omicron, Psi and their assorted subdivisions felt that their mission to police the Order for dissent included keeping an eye on us.”
“How long has this been going on?” demanded Buckley, who was still avoiding the fridge. His loss.
Wei shrugged and sipped from her bottle again. “That’s something I intend to find out. My working theory is that it’s been going on along at least as long as people have hiding data that ought to be inside our archives. Including, but not limited to ROM’s operations.”
“You mentioned gaps in our information,” Tiger Lily observed, pulling over a deckchair to sit down. “You might want to sit,” she added, looking around. “This doesn’t seem as it it will be a short meeting.”
There was a short break as the Precentors fetched their own chairs - no staff were in earshot to assist them. No one else was on the beach at all. Unless someone was buried in the sand, they were entirely alone. (Well, except for the ComGuards security team under the water, but Wei thought that only she and a handful of people in their chain of command knew that the divers were out there.)
“You never mentioned problems with our archives to me,” complained Buckley.
The fact you had some information before it got to me should explain why I didn’t, Wei thought. “Conversations of opportunity,” she brushed it off. “But I’m telling you all now. There are entire planets that we have removed from official record - they appeared on Star League charts but the navigation data we provide for shipping doesn’t mention them and the data to jump into those systems seems to have been lost by most national military records. I can’t so far prove that ROM is behind that, but the result is that no one seems to know how to reach them - short of a fully astronomical survey or recovering the data. And that was the tip of the iceberg.”
Norris ran one hand through his dark hair. “Did this start in ‘46… no, you said previous Precentors of ROM were involved.”
“It could be as old as ROM, but for now the bulk of the data loss can be traced to three time periods - the reign of Dwight Kurstin and the end of office for Primus York and Primus Takami,” Wei told them. Dahlia Erin had come through by arranging the infiltration of Mu division and getting taps into the ROM servers that they maintained, so that teams from Tau could access and study them.
Buckley rubbed his face. “All periods of turmoil in our history. A conspiracy going that far back would be deeply entrenched.”
Wei laughed. “We’re not that lucky. One conspiracy could be wound up relatively quickly. It’s what Omicron is designed to do - we might need to clean a few people out of their ranks before turning them loose. But we’re dealing with multiple conspiracies that have been fighting for control of the Blessed Order for generations. It’s an entire culture that doesn’t trust the direction of ComStar to the official leadership - the same way that Delta division is supposedly our intelligence service while actually only a diversion from ROM.”
“Does anyone even believe that these days?” Tiger Lily mused. “I think SAFE saw through that years ago.” The Free Worlds League’s intelligence service was widely considered to be the least capable of the ‘big five’.
“Not a chance,” Norris retorted. “Even the Taurians know better.”
“Something there’s no further point to,” Wei told the First Circuit. “But more importantly, we have a challenge to face. ROM’s current thinking makes them a direct threat to ComStar.”
“Primus,” warned the quiet Precentor Sian. “There have been attempts to rein in ROM before. You mentioned Hollings York earlier…”
“And he was almost certainly killed because he tried to disband ROM,” agreed Murphy.
“That is merely the Primus. Who knows how many Precentors they’ve removed - politically or otherwise,” warned Tiger Lily. “ROM has, by necessity, tremendous reach and influence.”
Wei looked around the circle of Precentors, perched incongruously in deckchairs on the beach. “I chose every single one of you to lead ComStar,” she reminded them. “Not just to administer or advise. If I’ve made a mistake in that, them you are free to request reassignment to a position with less responsibility. But I have no intention of letting ComStar become nothing but a shadowy conspiracy trying to subvert what remains of the Star League.”
“That isn’t what any of us are saying,” Thorne protested. “But we should proceed cautiously. You said yourself that this isn’t a single conspiracy - if we can identify them, then we may be able to turn them against each other with promises of support and let them erase each…”
“You miss the point,” Wei snapped.
“The conspiracies are a symptom,” Precentor Luthien agreed. “The challenge is the culture. If we do as you say, Gwyn, then there will simply be new conspiracies - or worse, a single winner that will be free to reduce us to nothing more than figureheads. A direct confrontation is the one thing that ROM is not prepared for.”
“I agree,” Joe Buckley said firmly. It shouldn’t have surprised Wei to have his support. The Toyamist was an adversary within the First Circuit because of his ambitions - and being the puppet of ROM wasn’t part of those ambitions. Still, she hadn’t counted on it.
The Primus turned to the other Joe and saw him nodding. “They wouldn’t need to directly control us, only the information that we receive, steering our decisions by making sure that we only saw the options that they present. That isn’t the Order I swore oaths to. We’re supposed to be a shining light for the Inner Sphere. I vote to clean house.”
Tiger Lily shook her head slightly. “The sentiment is correct, but how do you plan to do this? ROM is the tool we’d usually lean upon for this. Even if we try to mobilize, they’re embedded at every level of ComStar. We can’t move without them knowing about it.”
“And how do we know that one of us isn’t involved in one of those conspiracies?” asked Gwyn Thorne, bringing all eyes to her. “What if one of us warns their own allies on ROM, isn’t this what led to such a bloodbath two years ago?”
Wei stepped into the silence that followed. “Jerome Blake didn’t know that seizing Terra would succeed either. But he knew that not trying would be far worse. We should follow his example: if we try then we may fail, but if we don’t then we can never succeed.”
Slowly, one at a time, the six Precentors each nodded.
“I already voted,” Murphy declared. “Are we unanimous? ROM needs to be brought to heel.”
“Reorganized, not abolished,” agreed Tiger Lily.
Orchard raised her own hand. “Do it.”
Buckley and Norris also agreed, leaving Gwyn Thorne sitting on the edge of her deckchair. “Alright,” Precentor Rasalhague decided after long hesitation. “We’re doing this whatever I vote, so I should do everything I can to make it happen. You have my support, Primus. Do what must be done. How soon can you begin?”
Wei smiled, feeling the warmth of the sun at last. “It started an hour ago. Routine dropship flights carrying a full brigade of the ComGuards diverted under Precentor Martial Focht’s personal command and they’re occupying ROM headquarters as we speak.”
“What…” Buckley almost exploded out of his chair. “Then why did you…”
“As the Primus, this was always my decision. I needed to know where you stood though.”
“And you weren’t sure if Gwyn’s concerns about us are justified,” added Norris. “Well played, Primus. If we had said no…”
“Then I’d know who wasn’t equal to the demands of their position,” she told him. Reaching into the pocket of her robe, Wei produced a small comm unit and activated.
“Primus,” Precentor Focht’s crisp voice joined them on the beach, the same voice Wei had been listening to through her earpiece as the meeting unfolded. “I am at your command.”
“Thank you, Precentor Martial. The First Circuit is ready for your report.”
“ROM Headquarters is occupied. Several units equipped with Nighthawk armor put up defense around the armory, but they were unable to leave that section to repel troops securing other parts of the complex. Rooting them out has caused more casualties than expected.”
“Martyrs for the Order’s salvation,” Buckley declared.
“As you say,” the Precentor Martial said in a neutral voice. “Precentor Callow is in custody and Precentor Erin of Rho Division has given orders to all ROM personnel to stand down - orders that have for the most part been accepted.”
“What about Precentor Mu and Precentor Omicron?” asked Norris, referring to the other two principle division heads in ROM.
“Precentor Amorat of Mu has been detained at his home,” Focht advised. “Precentor Kernoff of Omicron attempted suicide to avoid capture and is currently in the intensive care unit of ROM’s in-house hospital, being treated by our own medics. I regret that Precentor St Jamais of Psi division, who was meeting with Kernoff, was more successful in ending his life.”
“Purity and Loyalty have always operated hand-in-hand,” Wei said flatly. “I assume you have activated the contingencies for other divisions found to be involved?”
“Yes, Precentor. ComGuards units have mobilized and will arrive to secure Psi’s headquarters within the next ten minutes. I regret that security concerns did not allow me to pre-position the units.”
“For my part, I regret the blood of our soldiers, undoubtedly more will be suffered in securing Psi - but had they been warned then losses could be significantly heavier.” Wei shook her head. “The ComGuards have done well and at some point I will wish to convey that to them in person. In the meantime, what about their computers?”
“As expected,” Focht continued, “There are a number of air-gapped servers. Our technical teams are currently checking them to make sure that downloading the contents won’t trigger a purge or some other contingency.”
“I will leave the continuation of this to you, Precentor Focht. Blake’s Peace be on you,” she told him and then deactivated the comm unit. Once she’d pocketed it, she also removed the ear piece. It had been a distraction earlier - if a necessary one should one of the First Circuit proven to be involved.
Buckley rose to his feet, went to the fridge, and produced a miniature bottle of Timbiqui dark. He opened the bottle and swigged heavily from it. “The ComGuards are most efficient.”
“It helps that until a few years ago they were under the command of Precentor ROM. Both the Precentor-Martial and some of his staff are familiar with the headquarters buildings,” pointed out Norris. “I assume that you already have plans to reform ROM, Primus?”
“I try to be prepared,” she answered. “As we’ve already discussed, Delta is of no further value as a distraction from our intelligence activities. And Omicron was supposed to prevent the sort of situation we’re faced by. I find it hard to say that either division should remain in their current form.”
“And what about Rho and Mu? The divisions and their Precentors?” asked Tiger Lily.
“Like any of the personnel, we’ll need to review them - I would hope that we don’t wind up replacing the top level of ROM entirely for the second time since I took over.” St Jamais and Kernoff had both come highly recommended, something that put the nominating precentors in a bad light now.
“What I propose,” Wei took a stick she’d left in the cabana and drew six lines in the sand, carving out a square made of four smaller squares. The first received a triangle, the greek letter delta “Is that we divide intelligence activities into four distinct sections. Delta will be rebuilt to handle electronic information gathering.” She marked the appropriate symbol in the next box. “Rho will continue to be tasked with human intelligence - field operations.” Another box, “Upsilon will be created to replace Omicron and charged with our internal security - it’s a real need, as we’ve just established. And finally -” she filled the last box. “Mu continues to be the analysis arm, and subdivisions will deal with overlapping concerns - Rho-Omicron for internal investigators, for example.”
“DRUM,” Murphy translated the symbols into a new acronym. “And who will take charge of it?”
“I don’t see the need for a single Precentor ROM. Instead, the four division heads will form an intelligence committee, overseen by two Precentors from the original First Circuit worlds. With the current First Circuit spread across national capitals, it isn’t possible for us to provide close oversight the way we need to. If this works out then similar committees can attend to other routine functions.”
“And the… commando units?” Buckley referred to the black ops teams that carried out deniable operations for ComStar.
Wei grimaced. “Their training will be shared with the ComGuards, which will allow easier recruitment from their ranks. Operationally though, they’ll be subject to the intelligence committee.”
Today showed that the ComGuards had no serious military challenge from ROM’s commando units, but in an asymmetric role that wouldn’t necessarily be the case. And she didn’t really want Focht - or his successors - to have a complete monopoly on ComStar’s military capabilities. The build up of the warships might justify a separate naval organization… but that was a matter for another day.
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Mars Field Proving Ground, Strana Mechty
Kerensky Cluster, Clan Homeworlds
12 December 3048
This was not how Ace had expected his first combat deployment with the Twenty-First Assault Cluster to go.
He wasn’t in command of his trinary - although he could hardly complain because the same person who’d usurped command from him had done the same to the entire Cluster. SaKhan Kaija Horn might have been convinced to leave the glory of the Revival Trials to an Alpha Galaxy cluster rather than her own Beta Galaxy, but the price of that was a compromise that let her join the Twenty-First for the campaign.
And if Star Colonel Labov didn’t feel confident to challenge the Clan’s second ranking officer when she interpreted join as ‘take command’ then Ace wasn’t going to do the same. She’d surely choose unaugmented combat by any means she could and Kaija Horn was easily twice Ace’s weight and a full head taller than him.
“Get us closer,” the saKhan ordered tersely, from where she was clinging to the side of Ace’s Stormcrow.
The fifty-five ton Omnimech was carrying five elementals, half the number committed to the first round Trial for a place in the Invasion force. Ace bounded the ‘mech through the towering trees that covered the hillside that had become the battleground.
Ahead of the Diamond Shark force - a wedge of seven Summoners and Gargoyles were following Ace as fast as they could - were the thirteen ‘mechs fielded by Clan Star Adder. The initial clash between the Clans had taken place in the sky above the Proving Grounds - a mere four Star Adder aerospace fighters being quickly driven off by the ten Diamond Shark fighters. In response, the Star Adders had taken their ‘mechs under the heavy tree cover, protecting them from strafing runs that might otherwise have savaged them.
Outnumbered more than three to two, Ace would have preferred not to commit his ‘mechs so recklessly. While the rules of zellbrigen should keep the Adders from ganging up on them, he also knew from the pilot’s responses that the Star Adders’ Fifth Assault Cluster had committed a force mostly made up of Executioners and Kingfishers - that had a tonnage advantage of ten to fifteen tons compared to the heaviest ‘mechs in his own trinary.
His own Stormcrow was a full forty tons lighter than an Executioner. While Ace felt confident he would be able to leverage his advantages against the powerful assault ‘mech, thick forest wasn’t the ideal terrain.
With the suicidal overconfidence of someone who had spent their life taking on battlemechs at least twenty times the size of her battle armor, Kaija Horn had renounced all caution.
“You pilot this Stormcrow like an arthritic UrbanMech,” she criticized him.
“Engaging thirteen Star Adders at once would be unfair,” Ace replied, regretting it the moment he opened his voice. But as he’d started, he might as well finish. “We should at least share the glory with Star Commander Julian and the other elementals.”
To his surprise, Ace had found that he did know one of the Star Commanders in his trinary. Julian had earned a Deathstrike Award of his own since serving Blake Hawker during the attack on Castrum Keep. As a result, the mechwarrior had won a place in Alpha Galaxy and been promoted to command of a Star after the fighting on Vinton.
Kaija Horn snorted. “The sooner we are in reach of the Star Adders, the sooner we can direct the fighters to bring their numbers down.”
“We will score no additional points in the Trial for defeating the Star Adders faster than the other Clans resolve their Trials,” he pointed out, since he’d survived disagreeing with the saKhan once.
After eliminating three Clans who felt they lacked the forces necessary to carry out the Invasion and Clan Wolf (who had been assured of a slot due their possession of the Great Founder’s genetic legacy) there were thirteen left vying for the three remaining invasion corridors that the plan called for - or failing that, the one reserve slot.
To decide which Clans would have the honor, the Grand Council had organized a multi-round tournament of trials. The first three rounds would thin the numbers with only Clans who managed two victories proceeding for the finals to decide who won which role, based on a complex points scoring system. Since the numbers were uneven, Clan Star Adder had volunteered one of their Clusters to participate in the Trials, even though they had withdrawn from the bidding over participation, claiming that they had no faith in ilKhan Leo Showers’ strategy.
Having drawn the Star Adders as their first opponent was an interesting strategic challenge, since they had no real need to win. All they were doing was trying to knock other Clans out of consideration. It likely wouldn’t win them any friends.
The little force entered the shadow of the forest, the trees dwarfing even the towering Gargoyles and Summoners. Far older than mankinds’ colonization of Strana Mechty, some of the massive tree trunks might be heavier than entire dropships. Ace could see scarred bark in places, marking the results of weapon fire from earlier trials in the area.
Checking his position against the reported sightings of the Star Adders, Ace turned north slightly.
“All mechwarriors, pick your targets and do not break zell,” Kaija ordered, her impatience fading with the prospect of imminent action. “The Star Adders’ firepower will overwhelm you if they can concentrate it on individuals. That means not engaging the ‘mechs under Elemental attack. Try to draw them apart and out of the trees if you can. If they scatter, our fighters can pick off the unengaged ‘mechs.”
It sounded optimistic to Ace, but since not engaging here wasn’t an option, those orders made some sense. “Julian, prioritize Executioners when allocating targets - they have less armor and their extra-light reactors may make them easier kills.”
“Aff, Star Captain.” The Star Commander didn’t mention what they both knew: the lighter armor was entirely relative - even the most armored ‘mech in their trinary couldn’t compete with the armor of an Executioner.
Thermal signatures bloomed and the Stormcrow’s battle computer began to identify and tag targets.
“Target Kilo is their commander,” Kaija Horn snapped. “Deliver my point, Star Captain.”
“Aff,” he confirmed and zigzagged through the trees towards the Kingfisher that had been identified. “Charles, engage India. Dani, you are on Juliet.”
The two warriors peeled off, evading the first fire from the Star Adders as they opened fire in return, picking off two of the three Executioners escorting the Kingfisher.
“Norman, swing right and intercept anyone coming in at us from their last Star,” Ace concluded, racing the Stormcrow behind a tree just ahead of a gauss rifle slug from the third Executioner. Just as he was operating a Star of four ‘mechs and five elementals, the Star Adder bid had reduced two ‘mech Stars to four ‘mechs each in order to include their aerospace fighters within the fifteen point limit for each round of the Trial.
Ace fired his jump jets as he left the cover of the tree, hopping up and over a salvo of fire from the Kingfisher. Pulse lasers from both arms flayed through the trees and grass behind Ace.
Swinging one arm around, careful not to dislodge the elementals, Ace fired one of his ER PPCs and the particle beam carved into the flat chest of the last Executioner, marking it as his own target but doing nothing more than depleting slightly the towering assault ‘mech’s massive protection.
Crashing down into the forest floor, Ace slewed around to one side and a pair of Extended Range Large Laser shots flew past the Stormcrow. One missed entirely, the other was close enough to strike one of the Elementals, blasting the warrior away and sending the ton-weight battle armor flying.
The man within screamed as one of his arms was ripped away, but then bit the sound off as the suit fed drugs into his system and the shoulder joint was sealed off with harjel. Amazingly, he might still be able to fight.
“Prepare to attack!” Ace shouted to those that remained and raced close to the Kingfisher, which must have guessed the intent for it tried to step aside and opened fire with its Streak SRMs, presumably hoping that it would hit the Elementals rather than breaking the zellbrigen code by shooting at another warrior’s target.
Up above the cockpit, both anti-missile systems opened up and all six missiles blew up short of their targets.
“Go!” howled Kaija Horn and she led the four Elementals in a leap from the Stormcrow onto the Kingfisher.
The loss of weight left Ace slightly off-balance and in his inexperience with the Stormcrow he didn’t completely manage avoid the Executioner’s fire as it unleashed everything. Fortunately, the Gauss Rifle missed again but both lasers bit into his rear armor as Ace opened up the range again.
Two thirds of the protection from that aspect was carved away by the powerful lasers, and warning lights went red as some of the structural members supporting the core systems were compromised. It could have been worse, but any shot from behind Ace’s back could be catastrophic now.
Half-turning on the ground, Ace kicked off with his jump jets to complete the turn and fired both ER PPCs - accepting the heat burden of the shots to take advantage of the Executioner’s leading leg being extended as it tried to chase after him.
Both particle beams converged on the limb and panels of ferro-fibrous protection exploded away… but the shots failed to penetrate and the massive ‘mech barely wobbled despite taking so much damage that some ‘mechs would have been crippled out right.
Even worse, it surged forwards even faster - activating myomer acceleration system circuitry to cut Ace’s advantage in speed to a razer thin margin. And to exploit that, he’d have to turn his back and reveal the damaged armor.
The instant his jump jets had recharged, Ace bounded away again, only using a single ER PPC for his next salvo. The Executioner’s Gauss Rifle and twin Extended Range Lasers crashed out again and this time the Gauss Rifle was the one that scored, slamming into the side of the torso and coming terrifyingly close to penetrating. Ace’s own shot hit next to the burn left by his first - and it was similarly ineffective.
Maybe I should have chosen something heavier, Ace thought. But that wasn’t useful thinking right now.
He focused on bouncing from cover to cover, not even bothering to shoot back until the Executioner had to slow, deactivating the MASC before it could overload and cripple its legs.
Obviously expecting Ace to take advantage, the Executioner turned the change of pace into an evasive move - one that successfully left Ace’s first ER PPC shot hitting nothing but a tree that posed no threat to him. However, Ace had held back the second and now when he fired, he finally achieved a penetration - the shot blasted through the left torso’s armor at last.
He wasn’t sure if he’d hit anything of importance but then melon-sized iron slugs began to spill from the hole, like ball-bearings poured out of a cupped hand. The shot must have taken out the bottom of the gauss rifle’s ammunition supply, Ace thought as he faded back behind a tree again.
“The Khan!” someone howled on the tactical frequency. “No!”
“Report!” Ace snapped, ducking out and firing a second salvo from behind the tree-trunk. For an instant he thought he’d hit the cockpit with the higher of the two bolts but then he saw that the Executioner had thrown up the left arm with its gauss rifle, taking the hit on that. On the plus side, the other shot had finally torn away the armor on the Executioner’s left leg.
“The Star Adder just stamped on Khan Horn!” a second voice declared. “She’s dead!”
Ace cursed internally. He was barely known to the warriors and with Horn dead, they had lost the leader that they had some trust in. “Elementals, finish your targets or break off and shadow them. Let the fighters know where the Star Adders are!”
“Aff, Star Captain,” a handful of voices declared.
What to do… Ace had to back away as the Executioner fired at him again, just with its lasers. It had positioned itself against a tree, using the thick wood to shield its damaged left side. One laser bit into his right arm’s armor.
Right, any plan was better than no plan.
“All fighters, change of plan,” he ordered and set a pair of waypoints near the edge of the forest. “Strafe everything between the Point Beta and Point Gamma. If we cannot find an opening to hit the Star Adders, we will make one. Mechwarriors, fall back towards…” One more waypoint, between the section he’d indicated to the fighters and the edge of the forest. “Point Alpha. And watch out for our own fighters!”
“Orders understood, Star Captain!” Julian responded.
Charles and Norman both added their own confirmations, but there was nothing from Dani. Ace knew what that meant - she must have been defeated already.
He had his own concerns to deal with though and pushed the Stormcrow to its full speed, racing away from the Executioner - turning his torso to the right, trying to shield the damaged armor as much as he could and fire parting shots with his right arm’s ER PPC.
The Star Adder seemed to be caught off guard, but - faced with a retreating foe - the mechwarrior responded aggressively, charging after Ace at a speed that made it clear that the MASC had been activated again.
Laser fire chased after Ace, while he fired the ER PPC back as fast as it would cycle. Neither of them was landing shots, between cover and their speed, but it was wearing on the nerves - the first one to make a mistake would not only damage their ‘mech in a fall or collision, they’d also make themselves an easy target for the other.
In the end, it wasn’t an error that decided the duel. Or rather, it was overconfidence in technology. Pushing his Executioner to the limits of its performance, the Star Adder ran the MASC too long and both legs spasmed as overstressed myomers snapped. In a desperate effort to avoid a fall, the mechwarrior fired his jump jets to stabilize himself.
Faced with an target now actively trying not to move erratically, Ace aimed carefully and put one more particle beam into the left leg of the Executioner before it landed. Overstressed, the mighty metal structural members that served the same role as leg bones crumpled under the weight of the assault ‘mech.
The ninety-five ton Omnimech tumbled sideways into the forest floored, crippled and out of action. Ace left it behind, moving on to regroup with his warriors.
It wasn’t hard to find the waypoints he’d marked. Even without the navigation computer, the destruction being unleashed by ten aerospace fighters raking the forest repeatedly with their energy weapons was unmistakable. The sound of one of the mammoth trees falling over was awe-inspiring and Ace saw every other tree around it sway as over a thousand tons of hardwood crashed to the ground.
Small fires had sprung up in the swathe of destruction but that didn’t concern Ace. Forests burned sometimes - it was just something that happened. Most of the times the trees didn’t even take serious damage, contrary to beliefs of some of those in larger enclaves for whom thick forest was a strange and unknowable territory. Surely, they thought, wood was flammable so the trees would be entirely consumed.
“Aerospace, good work,” he told them, seeing that the fallen tree trunk lay along the inner edge of the patch of woods now cut off from the rest. “Blast us breaks between the end of the fallen tree and the edge of the forest, then pull back and cool off. The Star Adders will be coming.” Then he paused. “You are clear to engage them without regard to zellbrigen.”
“Star Captain, that is against the orders of the saKhan,” the Star Commander of the fighter force observed cautiously.
“Khan Horn died following that strategy. I plan to win. Any further questions, quineg?”
“Neg, Star Captain. We will comply.”
Only four more ‘mechs had reached the rendezvous point. Charles’ and Julian’s Summoners were about as torn up as Ace’s Stormcrow. In contrast, Norman’s Gargoyle was almost unmarked.
“You did not find the Star Adders?” Ace asked the older warrior.
“I did, but there were five of them so I led them in a little bit of a chase for a while,” Norman replied. “Then they found something else to do and you told me to come here.”
Ace couldn’t help but laugh slightly at the impudence of the answer. “Good work.” Then he looked at the other Gargoyle to return. “As for you, Mechwarrior Helva… I am genuinely impressed.”
If the eighty ton ‘mech had any armor that hadn’t been savaged, Ace couldn’t see it. The left arm with its heavy autocannon was missing entirely.
“You should see the Star Adder,” Helva replied confidently. “I can still fight.” She raised the left arm with its cluster of lasers in illustration that limb and weapons were still operational.
“Good work.” Ace calculated. “If everyone except Norman managed a kill…” No one disagreed. “Four kills to their three.”
“Five,” Julian told him. “I dropped the elementals with me on a Warhawk that the aerospace fighters didn’t report. They got into the cockpit, but I am unsure how many survived.”
“Eight of them left then,” Ace mused. “And five of us. Perhaps they will surrender.”
They all laughed at that idea. The five ‘mechs that had been chasing Norman were probably unscathed so far - unless the aerospace fighters had managed to inflict some damage on them as they tried to get into the woods.
“Dig your ‘Mechs in behind cover along the fallen tree,” Ace ordered. “We are ignoring Zellbrigen - concentrate your fire on the more damaged ‘mechs, we need to even the numbers quickly. But if something is immobilized, leave it to the fighters.”
“How do you know the Star Adders will come after us?” asked Charles. “They know the aerospace fighters will be on them.”
“They will come because we ran,” Ace told him. “Would we not do the same? And they will gamble that they can cross the gap before they take too much damage. Defeat the five of us and they can wait for our fighters to run out of fuel and be forced away.”
Julian cleared his throat. “There will be complaints about discarding zellbrigen.”
“Before the Trials began,” Ace told them. “Khan Hawker told me he would do anything required for us to win a place in the Invasion.”
That seemed sufficient to the other warriors and they dispersed to find places to prepare.
They did not have long to wait. Less than five minutes later, the first Star Adder ‘scout’ spotted them and the thermal signatures of seven more assault ‘mechs converged upon the little fortress. Ace wondered if anyone else had ever used a ninety-five ton ‘mech as a recon force.
There was no new challenge, or offer to let them withdraw honorably. The Star Adders presumably understood that this would not be forthcoming.
Instead, five of the assault ‘mechs - all of them durable Kingfisters - burst from the treeline. Ace saw that one had the same markings Kaija Horn had told him meant that it was the commander’s - the same one he’d delivered her to attack.
Dropping his crosshairs on ‘Target Kilo’, Ace fired both ER PPCs over the tree trunk and into the ninety-ton machine and saw Helva doing the same with her one working arm. Their shots, at only middling range and fired without themselves moving, all hit home and the brutish omnimech staggered. Return fire, spread evenly across the Diamond Shark force, mostly struck the tree but Julian swore as his Summoner’s left arm flopped uselessly.
“Dezgra Sharks!” someone shouted and then the aerospace fighters managed to reach firing range.
Streams of missiles, autocannon shells and energy weapons blazed down on the five Star Adders, catching them in a deadly crossfire as Ace and his force poured fire. Perhaps not expecting the disregard for custom, the StarAdders made the fatal error of hesitating - though they did not cease fire.
Charles’ Summoner went limp as autocannon fire ripped through the exposed cockpit.
A Kingfisher exploded as ammunition bins on both sides of the torso detonated.
Helva cursed as missiles and lasers tore the one working arm she had left apart.
The three remaining Star Adders raced to join their comrades, weapons raised to fire up at the sky.
A Turk aerospace fighter, flying suicidally low, rammed directly into one of the Kingfishers - deliberately or otherwise, Ace wouldn’t know.
‘Target Kilo’ fell to its knees and then face-first onto the ravaged ground, light visible through the torso, so heavily had it been riddled.
Two of the initial rush, not engaged, reached the end of the tree and rounded it to face Norman’s Gargoyle.
Ace pulled back from the tree, avoiding a furious salvo from beyond it, and turned his PPCs on the inbound Kingfishers as Norman unloaded the array of PPCs and lasers he’d mounted into one of the Kingfishers.
Without taking the time to cool off, it was becoming hard for Ace to breathe but it was nothing to what Norman was risking. His ‘mech was practically glowing after his first salvo but the old warrior triggered a second full alpha strike into the Kingfisher he’d chosen as a target. At point blank range - muzzles almost touching the larger ‘mech - he couldn’t miss and the Kingfisher was almost torn in two by the salvo.
The Gargoyle froze as its reactor shut down, which didn’t stop the remaining Kingfisher from driving the muzzle of the autocannon that made up one of its arms into the face of the Diamond Shark ‘mech.
Norman’s ‘mech fell to the ground, cockpit frame distorted but at least not obviously ruptured. Ace fired one PPC as he staggered the Stormcrow forwards, not quite hitting the cockpit of the Kingfisher.
At least he’d managed to draw its attention.
The autocannon fired furiously, streams of tracer hammering into the Stormcrow, smashing through one side of the torso, Ace fighting to keep the smaller ‘mech active as the gyro struggled. The left arm was locked in place as the shoulder joint froze. Then lasers blew apart the ER PPC in his right arm.
Twisting the entire Stormcrow to bring his remaining ER PPC to bear, Ace got the crosshairs over the cockpit and pulled the trigger.
A particle beam lashed out and vaporized the Kingfisher’s cockpit and the mechwarrior within.
Gasping, Ace dropped the Stormcrow to its haunches and twisted around, looking for further threats. Nothing was moving.
Nothing was moving.
Nothing was…
“Star Captain, all Star Adder ‘mechs are down,” the aerospace Star Captain reported.
“That is confirmed,” Angus Labov cut in, voice terse. “All units are to stand down. Rescue and medical teams are moving in. Power down your weapons.”
Ace reached over and tapped the controls to save his PPC and saw the icon fail to change. Well. Apparently there was so much damage that he couldn’t even stop the PPC from recharging its capacitors unless he closed down his reactor. Hopefully they’d stop charging once they were loaded or they’re probably melt.
“Star Captain,” Labov continued
“Orders acknowledged,” Ace responded. “I am having some problems safing my weapons.
“I will pass that on to the rescue team. I am curious, though. I did not think you were so determined a Crusader that you would wreck your entire force -” (Labov’s forces, an implied reprimand). “- in pursuit of winning.”
“The way the rounds are scored, Star Colonel,” Ace looked for words. He must be more tired than he had realized. “Seven clans will get five points by winning the first round, then half of them get another five points by winning against each other in the winner’s bracket of the second round. Every other clan will have only seven or eight at best, because the loser’s bracket and third round are worth less.”
“I am aware of how the scoring works.”
Ace scowled. “If we lost this round, we would have to win every other round or be knocked out of consideration. With this round won, we can probably get at least the reserve slot even if we only manage two more victories. Whether either of us cares about that, Khan Hawker cares. Do you want to tell him no?”
Labov paused and then: “Neg. I am glad someone else is thinking about this.”
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I do believe Ace just got Labov on side... ^-^
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Well... that was as phyrric a victory as they go ...
That he got Labov on his side is the only upside to this cluster-eff...
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Well... This is going to be huge. Comstar is purging its mad elements now instead of letting them fester. Just the ones taken out already will greatly change the board. And Mr. Enders just might get them a slot. Or at the least greatly improve his rep even more. He just salvaged a win from what would have been a defeat because the saKhan was over eager. And a fool. Though yeah he might want to reconsider his ride if he is going to be getting into heavier fights or perhaps he just needs more time with the Stormcrow?
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Since Ace likes welding dual PPC's so much and he really should rethink about getting something with some heavier armor. Maybe he should look at either the Timberwolf or the Warhawk. Especially since it looks like he will have a good chance at participating in the Invasion force. Could be that the Sharks will displace the Falcons or the Wolves from their Invasion lanes since they have poked the Smoked Kitties in the eye recently, thy probably do not want to share a lane with the Kitties or an adjacent lane.
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I think Ace salvaged what was salvageable from what the sakhan led them into.
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Do remember he saved the sharks from losing the Huntsman so he could give it a try as well. Though he might be better served trying to get a gladiator. He likes speed and jump jets and it should easily be able to fit his preferred weapon load just by modifying a alt B config a bit. The wolves will still get their slot though. That was politics of being the clan with Kerensky's blood and the slot the single densest to slow them down. Still to early to say how things change.
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If Showers is still IlKhan at the time of the invasion, the Wolves will be assigned one of the two center Lanes as both were seen as the least volatile and challenging of Attack Vectors.
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just a note, still following and enjoying. :)
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"Least volatile and challenging"... ::)
Or, if you can do math, the most likely to penetrate closest to Terra before the rest of the IS catches on... 8)
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I do believe Ace just got Labov on side... ^-^
He already had Labov on his side. Labov actually challenged the Khan to get him into Alpha Galaxy.
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He did, but now Ace knows he's on side for the reasons Ace is arguing for... ^-^
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"Ace wondered if anyone else had ever used a ninety-five ton ‘mech as a recon force."
-House Steiner? :D
Great chapters, thanks!
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And I do believe Steiner had that rep before the Amaris coup.... ^-^
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I was a bit surprised Ace didn't pick a Summoner for his new ride. It has the same speed and maneuverability as the Nova, after all.
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Probably because standard variant of the Summoner only carries 1 ER PPC. Although, the LBX and the 15 LRM rack improve the versatility...
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Probably because standard variant of the Summoner only carries 1 ER PPC. Although, the LBX and the 15 LRM rack improve the versatility...
The standard variant of the Stormcrow, his current ride, has neither twin PPCs nor jump jets, and he configured it with both anyway. Standard loadouts would not be an obstacle for building the Summoner that suits him best.
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Yep! Omnis, by fluff, are not limited to just the variants with record sheets.
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For that matter, he should be able to equip a Timber Wolf or a Gargoyle with his favorite configuration - twin ER PPC, twin AMS and two tons of AMS ammo is 15 tons, plus 5 jump jets it´s 20 tons. That leaves plenty of weight in either design for extra heat sinks, secondary weapons or a targeting computer.
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A TarComp would put Ace WAY over the top... 8)
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A TarComp would put Ace WAY over the top... 8)
A couple pulses and a tarcomp for the last fight would be great
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You think he would be allowed to pull some of the warriors from his old trinary to replace the fallen in the current battle?
I agree that Summoner would be a best choice for Ace, stat wise, but I reckon a similar profile would also played a role in his choice, as going low with Nova is a move he used several times, can't do that with Summoner or Mad Cat.
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You got a good point there, in-universe the Storm Crow probably handles a lot more like a Nova than any Summoner could ever hope for. As for bringing in his old warriors - if they have the Deathstrike, that's an option. Although there's probably some politics involved in who gets to choose new members for Alpha Galaxy.
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I was a bit surprised Ace didn't pick a Summoner for his new ride. It has the same speed and maneuverability as the Nova, after all.
Let's compare to the Stormcrow.
The Summoner and Stormcrow both have 182 points of armor.
The Summoner is 5/8/5 with fixed jump jets. The Stormcrow is 6/9/0 with the option of fitting jump-jets.
The Stormcrow has 23 tons of payload, although this will drop to 20 if six jump jets are fitted. The Summoner has 22.5 tons of payload.
Taking the Summoner would mean an extra 2.5 tons of payload, at a cost of 1 movement point in all three modes of motion (walk/run/jump).
Both are an improvement over the Nova, but for Ace the added mobility tipped the balance.
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The Summoner also has 14 double heat sinks fixed, versus 10 on the Stormcrow, which does shift the equation a bit. The Stormcrow is unquestionably a bit faster and jumps a bit farther, but I think you can pack a bit more firepower into the Summoner.
That said…if Ace is holding out for a bigger OmniMech, he’d be better off with a Timberwolf.
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Taking the Summoner would mean an extra 2.5 tons of payload, at a cost of 1 movement point in all three modes of motion (walk/run/jump).
It would mean 9.5 tons of extra payload, actually. Or 9 tons, depending on the details.
The Summoner already has 5 jump jets, whereas Ace had to sink either 2.5 tons or 3 tons of payload into jump jets, depending on if he got 5 or 6 of them.
The Summoner also has, as was pointed out, 14 fixed double heat sinks compared to the Stormcrow´s 10; that´s another 4 tons of payload saved.
By my calculations, Ace´s favorite loadout would take 17 tons of payload on the Stormcrow - twin ER PPC, twin AMS, 1 ton of AMS ammo, 6 jump jets. That leaves him enough payload to increase the heat sinks to 16 - enough to run and use both ER PPCs, but jumping or the AMS going off will heat him up.
Whereas in the Summoner, that same payload (with 5 jump jets instead of 6) costs him only 14 tons because the jump jets are already there. He thus has 8.5 tons left over for whatever else he can think of - targeting computer, more heat sinks, a third AMS, secondary weaponry... or call it 6.5 tons left over once he increases the heat sinks to 16. Say two more heat sinks, a targeting computer, a third AMS and a second ton of AMS ammo. Plus, while the Summoner has the same armor as the Stormcrow, its internal structure is a good bit sturdier, that makes another bit of difference.
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A interesting question is what will be some repercussions of how they won. Ace will take a rep lose for that but he can also say it was the only real way to salvage the fight after the saKhans insane blundering. A statement most would have to admit has some truth. The saKhan usurped control of a unit she had no business leading and chased personal glory over the good of the clan and it's goals. And it got her killed. Along with other warriors the sharks did not need to lose and almost cost them the victory thet had to have to have real chance at a invasion slot or reserve status. Her bloodname might not face a reaving challenge but her legacy is tainted.
And that should have political issues with a already embattled Khan who might find himself forced to rely on the freebirth Ace as a hatchet man who gets shit done. If Ace does not turn on him as he keeps climbing the ranks. He keeps performing like this he will get a cluster command the second a slot open up.
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The Summoner also has 14 double heat sinks fixed, versus 10 on the Stormcrow, which does shift the equation a bit. The Stormcrow is unquestionably a bit faster and jumps a bit farther, but I think you can pack a bit more firepower into the Summoner.
That said…if Ace is holding out for a bigger OmniMech, he’d be better off with a Timberwolf.
Agreed on the Timber Wolf. I think Ace would love the Descartin Winters variant from "Across A Sea of Stars" from a long time ago.
Another interesting, non-optimized idea would be a modified Gargoyle A variant. We know that Ace loves using ER-PPCs and values speed and jumping, as well as having AMS systems on his mech to protect vs missiles. Take a Gargoyle A, remove the Large Pulse Laser and the ER Medium Laser, add five jump jets, and you have two tons left over for two AMS systems and one ton of ammo.
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Good point about the heatsinks.
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Opalescent Reflections
Dealer’s Choice
Chapter 6
Katyusha, Strana Mechty
Kerensky Cluster, Clan Homeworlds
17 December 3048
Dozens of screens displayed views of the Clans fighting their own worst enemies - each other.
Khan Ulric Kerensky of Clan Wolf wasn’t delighted about the cause they were fighting for, or that his Clan had been strong-armed into joining the invasion. On the other hand, Leo Showers’ idea of how to pick the other participants was going to do absolutely nothing for unity.
For a dedicated Warden, this was a good thing. It was unlikely, from the dated intelligence he had on the Inner Sphere, that there would be much unity among those resisting the invasion.
That wasn’t a sentiment he was going to share with everyone who had joined him to discuss what happened next. Most of them were friends, but not all of them were in sympathy with his views. And Garth Radick, his saKhan, was neither… but Ulric did respect the man. However thunderingly inconvenient his politics were.
“The results of the second round are in?” Radick asked, looking at the screens. “Were there any surprises?”
“The Hells Horses were knocked out by Clan Nova Cat.” As a fellow leader among the Wolf’s Crusader faction, Erik Kerensky felt comfortable to speak informally with Radick. Ulric’s sibkin was on a couch, studying a report. “And the Diamond Sharks are coming out surprisingly strong.”
The saKhan tilted his head in consideration. “Ian Hawker must be delighted - they have a bye for the third round and go directly into the finals.”
“I doubt Ian Hawker has much to do with it.” The white-haired woman who spoke was the oldest of the group. “He has never struck me as a capable leader. And his saKhan was worse. I hope the Diamond Sharks find someone more capable to replace Horn.”
“It might be better if they do not, Cyrilla,” Ulric observed. He looked up at a screen that was replaying the Diamond Shark’s performance in the first round. “The four clans that have entered the finals have ten points each. The odds are that they will be the ones to participate in the invasion alongside us.”
“We failed in the Trial of Refusal, Ulric,” Radick chided him. “However you like it, we must perform at our best.”
“I agree completely,” he told his saKhan. “But that does not mean I want the other Clans to do well. Since we have been dragged into this I will make Showers regret it. He wishes to lead the invasion from our flagship? Very well, let him see us outstrip his Smoke Jaguars in every respect.”
“So who are we looking at fighting alongside?”
“The most probable are the Diamond Sharks, Jade Falcons, Ghost Bears and the Smoke Jaguars, my Khan.” Jenna Carns commanded the Fourth Wolf Guards, part of Ulric’s Alpha Galaxy. “It is hard to pick between them, based merely off this trial - all of them have two victories so they are neck and neck. If I had to name one as most likely to fall into the reserve, the Diamond Sharks took very heavy losses in the first round.”
“Aff, that was brutal. Did the Sharks and Adders develop a grudge while I was not paying attention?” asked Cyrilla.
“Losing a Khan is hard to forgive,” Athen Kederk observed. Another of Ulric’s Star Colonels, he was isorla from the Ghost Bears - taking him as bondsman had been one of the Khan’s best decisions. Not only had he earned a bloodname, he had also worked his way up to turn the 328th Assault Cluster’s fortune around. “My former Clan have never forgiven the Hells Horses for killing Kilbourne Jorgensson and that was a hundred and fifty years ago.”
“Kaija Horn was no Kilbourne Jorgensson,” Cyrilla snorted. “I cannot see them fighting to the last ‘mech for her - the Diamond Sharks have always been willing to cut their losses. Something else is going on. What do we know about the officer who took over? He was not bid for the second round.”
“The scandal of the Burrocks,” Erik said lightly.
All eyes turned to him. “What is this?” Ulric asked, curiously.
“You have been too engaged in Leo Showers’ aspirations,” his sibkin chided. “Clan Burrock recently hosted two Trials of Bloodright for House Enders.”
“A mechwarrior house,” Ulric said, after a moment’s thought. “They share it with the Goliath Scorpions?”
“And two other Clans - now three. Ace Enders is a freeborn.”
Cyrilla straightened. “That has not happened in almost two hundred years. I am surprised he was allowed to try.”
Erik nodded. “The debate among Clan Diamond Shark was furious. And then he slew the leader of the bloodhouse in a Trial of Refusal - thus needing to host a second Trial of Bloodright in short order.”
“That is a scandal,” Ulric admitted. “It is fortunate for this Ace Enders that he was not faced with the Burrocks in the current Trials. And now that they have been knocked out of contention, he need not fear it.”
“Wait, I have heard of this.” Garth Radick drummed his fingers. “Is this the madman who challenged the Burrocks to complete every round of the Trial in a single afternoon?”
That got a laugh from Erik. “The tale must have grown in the telling. It was not the entire Trial, the Goliath Scorpions, Hells’ Horses and even the Fire Mandrills had too much sense to agree to that. But four rounds of one bracket were fought and won - and this after he had won his place through the Grand Melee.”
“Interesting,” Jera raked her hair back. “So Ian Hawker has an attack dog - or should I say, an attack shark? I thought he hated freeborn warriors but someone with that record - he would want them under his control.”
“I suppose he is not entirely a fool. Just mostly.” Cyrilla shook her head. “Daring and stubborn. It reminds me of Tasha…”
Ulric shook his head. “One Diamond Shark ristar is unlikely to change their fortunes. I will be more concerned there once we know who is elected to lead alongside Ian Hawker.”
Garth leaned back in his seat. “Four Clans in the finals, and both the Burrocks and Hells Horses are out. As I recall, at least one other Clan must have lost their second match and be removed from consideration.”
“The Ice Hellions,” Jera told him.
“For some reason I am not surprised. So that leaves us six more clans fighting for three places in the final rounds. Do we know the pairings yet?”
Ulric frowned. “The drawing of lots for that should be taking place now - Showers wants to move forwards quickly.” He crossed to the console and checked his message traffic. “No, not yet. The Blood Spirits, Coyotes and the Goliath Scorpions all won their first round matches so they would have seven points if they reached the finals, putting them slightly better off than the other three.”
“Hmm. The Coyotes and Goliath Scorpions have been our allies for years,” Garth noted. “Although I have no great expectations of the latter. At least they will not be facing each other in the third round. As I understand it, the rules will pair each with a Clan that lost their first match.”
Ulric nodded. His peer had remembered the rules correctly. “If either of them reach the finals, they will face an uphill struggle. Any defeat will end their hopes - unless most of the Clans that have reached the finals already face disastrous defeats.”
“That is hardly likely. As much as I would like to see the Smoke Jaguars crushed, they are committing fine troops. And even if they lose the first round of the finals, the current finalists would be allowed to compete in the second round.” Radick shook his head. “No, I do not see that as likely. I will admit it paints a dismal picture of the invasion’s leadership. Karl Bourjon is the only one of them who is likely to respond intelligently. Khan Osis and Khan Crichell are very much part of the ilKhan’s inner circle, while Hawker wants nothing more than to join them.”
Jera Carns’ comm pinged and she pulled it from her pocket. “A message from the Hall of Khans,” she advised the group. “The final round’s match-ups have been drawn. Clan Coyote will face the Steel Vipers.”
“That’s not ideal,” Erik muttered. “The Steel Vipers are no pushover. How about the Scorpions?”
“Clan Goliath Scorpion will be facing Clan Fire Mandrill,” she told him solemnly. “I would say that makes it sure that the Scorpions will be in the finals but the Mandrills managed not to get knocked out last round so they must have something going for them.”
Ulric nodded. “Still, it is a good thing. And by elimination, that means the Blood Spirits will be fighting the Nova Cats. It really does not matter to us which of those win.”
Tyr Lowlands Proving Grounds, Strana Mechty
Kerensky Cluster, Clan Homeworlds
2 January 3049
A storm was rolling in over the proving ground. Thick, heavy clouds were propelled by fierce winds and rain was already hammering down on Ace’s cockpit.
Angus Labov was also cursing up a storm as his Warhawk marched at the lead of the little force, although only Ace could hear him. It was a level of vitriol he had never heard from the Star Colonel before.
“If the Steel Vipers could hear you, they might be frightened enough to surrender,” he cut in when his superior paused for breath.
The pause drew out and then Labov grunted. “My temper is a flaw,” he admitted. “I need someone to vent to or it may rule me in battle.”
“Please carry on. I am learning all sorts of new vocabulary. What does defenestrating even mean?”
“Throwing someone out of the window.”
Ace squinted out through the remain. “I understand the impulse. Then the meteorologists would share our suffering.”
The storm system had been predicted to pass far to the south and disperse as it encountered the mountains there. Unfortunately, the wind had shifted north and there was no sign of them fading. Much the reverse, which meant that the Diamond Sharks and the Steel Vipers would face the first round of the finals - under hurricane conditions.
“And the Steel Vipers will not surrender. Khan Breen’s injury may keep her out of the finals but she will demand her subordinates win on her behalf.” Labov continued. “They were defeated once already - another loss will knock them out of Operation Revival entirely. They only have six points - losing here guarantees that they cannot even become the reserve Clan.”
“And winning would bring them level with us,” Ace agreed. “We could dig in and wait the storm out?”
The Warhawk twisted back and forth. “Neg. The proving ground is not large enough to avoid notice, even if we had the supplies to wait for days. And Star Colonel Andrews knows that the weather gives him a solid advantage if he presses on now.”
As previously, the Diamond Shark bid for the contest had been a balanced one - eight battlemechs, two points of Elementals and a full star of ten aerospace fighters. Given the lack of heavy forests within this training ground, there was no real risk of the Steel Vipers repeating the strategy used by the Star Adders previously. Unfortunately, the weather now made it suicidal for the aerospace forces to be deployed - while the fusion-powered fliers were less vulnerable to weather conditions than helicopters and the jets of yesteryear, but there were limits and the hurricane sweeping up on them was quickly exceeding them.
The Steel Vipers had split their forces between omnimechs and elementals, configuring the former to defend themselves against attacks from the air. But there had been just enough warning for them for both sides to refit for the closer range battle that would result of fighting under the limited visibility forced by the storm.
“The elementals will love this weather,” Ace admitted. “The numbers are against us. Should we concede? We can continue to the next round and the two points from winning that round would still give us a good chance.”
“It tempts me,” Labov admitted. “But Khan Hawker will not have it. If the Bears, Falcons and Jaguars win their matches then we will be left scrabbling for just the reserve slot. He insists that we try, even if it may kill us all.”
“I notice that he is not here among us,” Ace noted. For all her failures, Kaija Horn had led from the front, sharing the risks of the other warriors. In contrast, Ian Hawker was too busy trying to impress the ilKhan with his loyalty.
“Say no more about that unless you are willing to challenge him,” the Star Colonel warned. “You are useful to him, but he has many ways to deal with you other than direct confrontation.”
“Which still leaves us with a problem.” Ace frowned as they marched down a slope towards a river. Once water levels rose, it would be difficult to get across that. If they could force the Vipers to fight across it, then it might help offset the numbers advantage. “You said Andrews… Star Colonel Brett Andrews?”
“Aff.”
Ace thought back to New Kent. “I have faced the Fourth Viper Guards before.”
“I know,” Labov confirmed. “Though not Brett Andrews himself.”
“We spoke, though. It is possible he may act rashly,” Ace mused. “If challenged properly.”
“I did not include you in my bid because of your charming personality. You have a talent for provoking warriors into foolish decisions. Just continue to direct it towards our enemies.”
The feet of the Diamond Shark dug into the slippery mud, making their descent of the slope more dangerous than normal. The Elementals were clinging to Omnimechs, Ace not among those burdened this time. He tried to keep the nose of his Stormcrow pointed into the wind, reducing the battering it was taking, in case wind pressure pushed him off balance. The heavier ‘mechs of the rest of what was functionally a binary had less to worry about in that regard.
The rain made thermals and seismics almost useless, so it was magscan that picked up the first signs that they were too late. “Star Colonel, I am picking up heavy metal on this side of the river.”
“It appears that everything conspires against us.” Labov growled. “Very well, Star Captain. I will rely on you to draw as many of them off as you can. Take up position on the right flank - I will provide support if I can, but this will be a brutal brawl.”
“Aff, Star Colonel.” Ace dug the feet of his Stormcrow into the mud and shifted towards the flank, opening up his radio on the general channel. Scanning the Steel Viper force, he saw that the lightest ‘mech was a Mad Dog. Otherwise there were a trio of Crossbows, one Summoner, two Gargoyles, two Warhawks and a single mighty Dire Wolf - the largest omnimech in service. Elementals were riding aboard fully half the force.
“Salutations, Brett Andrews. We meet again.”
“I found it hard to believe that the Diamond Sharks could sink lower in my estimation,” Andrews spat back. “But to bring a freeborn into a battle as important as this? After you all managed to get your own Khan and almost all of your command killed facing the Star Adders, I would have expected them to realize their mistake.”
“At least I led my forces to victory.,” Ace riposted. “You may be unfamiliar with the concept - it’s when you accomplish your mission and those facing you do not. Unexplored territory for you, I know.”
“I am a bloodnamed warrior of Clan Steel Vipers. My career is built on victory, unlike a bloodless fish like you!” shouted Andrews, one of the Crossbows stepping forwards. That would have given his ‘mech away even if Ace wasn’t getting automated warnings that if was trying to get a weapons lock on him.
Ace laughed pointedly. “Oh, did you not hear? I have also won a bloodname.”
“You lie!”
“Not at all. I am now Star Captain Ace Enders.” He paused and then: “Now that we have carried out the required introductions, you can run away with your tail between your legs. Just. Like. Last time.”
“Alpha Star! Kill that freebirth!” roared Andrews.
Ace threw his Stormcrow into reverse, backing up the slope as the five Omnimechs not carrying elementals charged up the slope, disregarding the threat posed by the other Diamond Sharks.
They were fairly safe in this decision as Labov issued a stream of orders, swinging the rest of his command out to the left before splashing down the hill and into a point blank brawl with the five remaining Steel Viper ‘mechs and their elemental support.
Ace had no time to pay attention to any of that. The Steel Viper Mad Dog fired a particle beam that only narrowly missed his ‘mech and the cluster shells from its autocannon pelted him with equal amounts of explosives and mud. For now, the other ‘mechs in the pursuit kept from firing, perhaps not in range yet or not quite willing to give up the code of zellbrigen.
Bounding backwards on his jump jets, Ace blasted at the Mad Dog with both ER PPCs. It was not unlike his battle with Blake Hawker, he thought. The difference was that once Hawker was beaten, the duel had ended but this time he would face four more opponents.
The particle beams blasted armor across either side of the narrow torso of the Mad Dog, missing the thin central section and threatening both of the missile launchers. The battle computer claimed that the armor across them was now only paper thin.
Another bolt of man-made lightning crackled through the storm and Ace twisted the Stormcrow through the air, having to land leant up against a large boulder to avoid the shot. The autocannon added thunder, this time blasting a series of craters into the Stormcrow’s right arm, using conventional ammunition.
Though the rain was helping to cool his ‘mech, Ace regretted firing both ER PPCs again the moment he’d done so, feeling the Stormcrow slow as the myomers sagged under the heat.
The Steel Viper regretted it even more though - both particle beams caught the missile launcher on the left side and they ripped through the launchers and their ammunition stores. Advanced safety systems vented the bulk of the secondary explosions out of the back of the ‘Mech while the beams continued, savaging structural members and control relays.
The Mad Dog fell to one side, landing on one side and then rolled onto its back, sliding down the slope before the mechwarrior inside managed to jab the legs down and catch himself.
The other Steel Vipers moved smoothly around their fallen companion and the other bird-like ‘mech within the pursuit opened up on Ace from the back of the pack. Autocannon, missiles, a pair of large lasers. This wasn’t another Mad Dog, not even a Timber Wolf. It was a Warhawk, the same basic chassis as that Angus Labov was piloting.
The anti-missile systems did their familiar work, thinning out the LRMs until they and the cluster rounds failed to inflict serious damage, but one of the lasers bit into the leg of the Stormcrow.
Ace ducked behind the boulder, letting the Stormcrow cool off. He’d have to draw this out, which meant running… but if he broke contact entirely then Andrews would likely take his ‘mechs back to fight Labov. So a balancing act.
Breaking into a run, Ace broke off along the slope, running up river, keeping the Stormcrow a little below its maximum speed - close enough to that of the Crossbows and Gargoyle that they would be able to keep up, but faster than the Warhawk. Forcing it to spring just to keep up, trying to get back into range of its weapons.
Twisting he fired his ER PPC back, aiming for one of the Crossbows. The particle beam scoured the Steel Vipers emblem from its chest. “What are you doing, Andrews?” he accused. “Getting in the way of a shot aimed for one of your men. Very heroic, but it breaks zellbrigen.”
“You were not aiming for Michel! You are dishonorable scum!”
Well, he wasn’t wrong, Ace admitted. That shot hadn’t been aimed near the Warhawk. “You heard that, Michel? He is trying to steal your glory, quaiff?”
There was no retort from the Warhawk but all four omnimechs continued to chase after Ace. He had seen a side valley on the maps. It should be possible to escape from that over the sides if he had to, using his jump jets. So far as he could tell, none of the Steel Vipers had jump jets at all. A way for him to disengage once he had to.
-
As he turned into the valley, Ace was surprised to see that the valley contained a city. Not a town or enclave, a city’s core - buildings that towered above his Stormcrow, with few of the smaller structures he’d expect. For a moment, Ace hesitated but then the Warhawk’s lasers bit into him. The range was extreme enough that he didn’t take full damage, but the two furrows were deep enough to warn him.
There was no choice to go on. Was this an inhabited city? Some dark caste settlement hidden away in the proving ground? How would that be possible?
As he advanced, Ace found that there was no sign of life. The towers were the same sort of prefabricated buildings he’d seen elsewhere… but they were barren. No living men or women, not even a dog or cat. There were no signs that anyone had lived here - no plants on windowsills, no garbage cans… no road signs.
On the edge, Ace turned back and fired again, both ER PPCs - blasting fragments of armor from the chest of the Gargoyle and one leg of the Crossbow that had escaped him. Blatantly disregarding zellbrigen. Angering them.
Then he slipped away, between the buildings. They followed.
There was battle damage, now that he was amid the towers. Broken walls, shattered roadways. Wires between the buildings that had been snapped by ‘mechs racing between them. And as he looked into the interior of the buildings, Ace found them hollow shells.
It was the effigy of a city. Intended to give the image of one, without the substance. Who would build such a thing? And why?
The magscan was confused now. The buildings still had structural beams supporting them - and concrete reinforced with even more metal. The wind howling between and even through them gave rise to eerie shrieks and the rain made the roads slick and dangerous. Thermals were still muted.
Ace didn’t retreat far. He wanted to keep their interest. Two streets deep, he turned left along a road and followed it to the hollow shell of a residential block - one that he found had been broken open at some point, and several floors ripped away. Squinting through the windows of the other side he could see the movement of one of the Steel Vipers, threading its way into the tangle of buildings. Ace extended his arms to rest the ER PPCs against one window each. It made the shots awkward, but the narrow approach made the ‘mechs route predictable. He fired once it walked into his crosshairs.
The flash of the ER PPCs made it clear that he was firing at the Gargoyle. Backing away out of the shell of the building, Ace fled again - firing his jump jets to hop up onto the top of a comparatively low building, ducking so that the Stormcrow was mostly behind the cover of a taller structure.
Holding still, he waited and sure enough, the Gargoyle raced around onto the street, trying to catch up before he could get away.
Focused on the street level, the assault ‘mech ran directly past Ace without the shape of the Stormcrow - distorted by the cover of the buildings and the darkness - registering. Swivelling, Ace could feel the building shaking beneath his ‘mech but there was no time for worrying about that. At close range he fired both PPCs into the back of the taller ‘mech.
Each shot carved deeply through the armor and into the shielding of the Gargoyle’s mighty reactor. Both air and rainwater exploded into incandescent steam as they encountered the heat of the fusion reaction inside. The fireball ripped through the Gargoyle’s interior, melting the delicate internal systems and no doubt burdening some poor technicians with weeks of work to restore it to functionality.
Ace didn’t stay to watch the result - he flared his jump jets to hop backwards before his perch could collapse, landing on the street behind and running away.
He could only assume, thinking about it, that this was intended to train warriors in how to fight in an urban environment. But who would take a fight into a settlement - the damage done by ‘mechs would wreck the very prize being fought for. Against a Clan, it would always be easier to fight for possession somewhere else. Perhaps to practice for attacks on dark caste settlements? But he’d never heard of one built on this scale?
Distracted slightly by thinking about this - and further hindered by the darkness and uselessness of most of his sensors - Ace didn’t notice the Crossbow coming around the corner until they had almost collided.
Both mechwarriors raised their weapons and fired reflexively, opening up.
Flechettes from the anti-missile systems were almost entirely useless with so little distance to work with, although they did their best. The large barrel-shaped forearms of the Crossbow could each fire a dozen Streak SRMs and almost a quarter-ton of explosives and propellant erupted into the face of the Stormcrow. Ace’s ears rang as more than one of the missiles went off within a meter of him. His canopy glass cracked - one side-panel spiderwebbed so badly that he couldn’t see out of it.
His PPCs had fired into the rounded left side of the Crossbow’s chest and the arm on that side - not enough to breach either. He didn’t have time to get out of range of the deadly SRM barrages (was there anywhere on his ‘mech that had complete armor coverage any more?) so he stepped closer, thrusting the Stormcrow’s arms forwards to push the Crossbow’s own arms away and out of line with him.
Neither ‘mech could fire their weapons at the other. They wrestled awkwardly. The Crossbow’s foot crashed against the left shin of Ace’s ‘mech, doing more damage. With a roar, Ace raised the Stormcrow’s arms high and then smashed them down on the helmet-like head of the heavier ‘mech.
With a crunch, the entire head-section seemed to squash down into the shoulders of the Crossbow. It would have been comical were it not for the way the armorglass of its cockpit had shattered and the visible evidence that the warrior inside had been crushed by the impact.
Ace gasped for breath. That had been close. Too close.
There was a flash of blue-white light and for a moment he thought a PPC was firing. Then he realized that it was just lightning.
The Crossbow still had the proud Steel Viper insignia on its chest. This wasn’t Brett Andrews then. But it was likely that the mechwarrior had managed to report Ace’s location.
Ace started to stalk away into the night, but the first step was more of a waddle. Compensating, Ace found that left leg wasn’t responding properly. The kick must have caused damage. He could still limp along, about as fast as the remaining Crossbow could.
This might be a problem. At least he still had both PPCs. Then he glanced at them. Yes, both still showed as operational. Good news, because they weren’t really intended to be used to batter at another ‘mech at point-blank ranges. The old SLDF manuals he’d read spoke of training for that but he’d never come across anything about it while in a sibko and the lessons on zellbrigen treated close contact between ‘mechs as ‘collisions’ and treated them as a mark of inept piloting. It had certainly been a costly encounter for Ace, if more so for the Steel Viper. If he could then he would try to avoid such confrontations.
Moving deeper into the city, Ace jumped the Stormcrow up onto a taller building, and then onto the roof of a towering industrial building that fortunately proved as sturdy as it looked. Hunched over on the roof, Ace searched for signs of movement. He expected that he would see the other two Steel Vipers making for the site of his recent clash.
After long enough for him to get worried, another flash of lightning provided just enough light to see the Warhawk’s flat-topped shape moving through the city. But he could not see the shape of the Crossbow. Had Brett Andrews given up? Leaving the Warhawk to keep hunting?
It made no sense to Ace, but it was just as likely that the mess of the city’s streets and the storm was simply hiding the Crossbow.
Scanning the buildings, Ace focused his ER PPCs on the next gap in the buildings, waiting for the Warhawk to emerge between them.
Once the Assault ‘mech was in view he fired them both, the man-made lightning crashing out across the city while a more natural bolt struck the top of one of the buildings, perhaps connecting to a lightning rod built into it.
Though struck, the Warhawk wheeled sharply and reacted with laser shots that bit into the roof of the industrial building. Cracks began to form, snaking across the ancient concrete towards the Stormcrow.
Sensing collapse was imminent, Ace feathered his jump jets. Perhaps that was the last straw because the roof collapsed, heavy panels crashing down into the interior. The young Diamond Shark allowed gravity to drag him down after it, using just enough jump jet thrust to keep the fall controllable.
The ground floor of the cavernous industrial space survived the debris with no problem and Ace landed smoothly before limping over towards the wall facing the Warhawk. With a bit of luck it would come to investigate and he’d be able to get a couple more shots off before withdrawing. The walls were mostly solid, but there was a closed metal panel most likely intended to simulate a loading door. The panel had rusted away in several places, allowing Ace to look through.
As expected, he saw the lumbering Warhawk moving through the city towards him, though it was following a road that wasn’t aimed right towards the opening and before he could get a shot off, it vanished behind another tower.
Ace positioned himself to snipe at the Warhawk as soon as it came into view and checked the compressed 360 degree display above his normal eye line, searching for the best route to escape from the building. He had just settled on a second metal panel, on the other side of the building, when another ‘mech - Brett Andrews’ Crossbow - used that panel as an entrance.
It took one critical second for Brett Andrews to realize what had happened and Ace took the opportunity to throw himself to one side, trying to take cover behind one of the four vertical pillars that supported what was left of the roof.
Like the other Crossbow, Brett Andrews’ mech was loaded with Streak SRMs. The sophisticated targeting systems were smart enough to steer them on wide arcs around the pillar to zero in on Ace’s Stormcrow. It took them a little longer reach him, giving the anti-missile systems more time to work, but it wasn’t enough to stop them all. Explosions wreathed around the medium ‘mech, shaving away even more armor. Sections of the status display flipped from armor damage to reveal that they were bare of protection.
Ace didn’t manage to keep the Stormcrow upright and it fell on its back, skidding out of the pillar’s cover. Desperately, conscious that it was only a matter of time until the Warhawk arrived, he raised the arms and fired both PPCs. Not at the Crossbow - at the top of the nearest pillar to Andrews’ mech.
The particle beams obliterated the top of the pillar, separating it from the roof panels it was supporting. The ceiling began to sag and crack.
“Freebirth! You cannot even shoot straight!” the Star Colonel gloated and then fired all his missiles - a deadly salvo that could finish Ace’s Stormcrow off…
Except that the collapsing roof finally disintegrated and the two dozen missiles were swallowed by a deluge of falling concrete and metals. Some of it hit the Crossbow, though the Battlemech was far too sturdy to be taken off. The premature detonations of the SRMs when they had barely left their tubes caused more damage, but nonetheless, Andrews staggered out of the cloud of dust with his Crossbow basically operational.
“Just - !”
“Die,” Ace said as he fired both ER PPCs again.
The particle beams hit so closely that they seemed to blend into a single bolt of energy that smashed into the damaged chest, exactly where Ace had already shot him. Structural members melted and tore. The Crossbow tore in two, the spine of the mech broken and the weight of the reactor - more than a third of the ‘mech’s total mass - dragged the shoulders, arms and cockpit one way while the legs and hips went the other.
The moment of triumph was cut away as the other door panel was ripped away. Crashing through the opening, the Warhawk entered the industrial building, a deadly stalker. Its armor was broken in places, but it it was nowhere pierced by the shots that Ace had fired.
Without stopping, the warrior, Michel, twisted the waist to bring its every weapon to bear upon Ace.
At the last moment, Ace fired every jump jet left to him. Not all of them fired and one of them even exploded as the plasma discharged from it encountered an obstruction within the vent. But they lifted the Stormcrow off the ground and flung it across the open space.
Everything that the Warhawk had fired crashed through the support pillar which Ace had intended to be cover for him only a moment ago. Missiles, lasers and explosive shells ripped the structural beam apart.
There was a ominous creak, so loud that Ace could not help but to look up. Out of the corner of his eye he saw the Warhawk trying to slow its pace and retreat, but eighty-five tons of metal moving at over sixty kilometers an hour could not be overcome in an instant.
And then in a thunderous moment that drowned out even the stone, the entire building collapsed. Ancient walls, left unmaintained for uncounted years, collapsed inwards, smashing down on all three battlemechs. Ace threw his left arm across his cockpit and wondered if this was the end of his life.
He lost consciousness for a moment and woke with blood in his mouth.
The cockpit was dark, but he could still feel the vibrations of his reactor. After a moment, displays began to reboot one after another. Not all of them - his Heads-up Display remained dark and the status display reported - he assumed wrongly - that absolutely nothing on the ‘mech was active. Not even itself. The compressed display showed as being live, but showed only darkness.
Gripping the controls, Ace worked each in turn. He could hear and feel the limbs move - the legs moved, as did the right arm. The left barely did, remaining locked in place across the front of his cockpit.
Wrestling with the mobility he had, working blind except for the feedback of the gyro, Ace brushed the debris away until he could see traces of light on the one external display he had. The rain against the sensors. A flash of lightning in the sky.
Finally, painfully, he managed to apply enough leverage with his one arm to get the feet under him. From there the Stormcrow lurched upright and he had a view in all directions.
The city was visible, over piles of wreckage that had once been the fake factory. It was hard for him to find reference points, but then he saw what was left of Andrew’s Crossbow. The reactor must have been breached because the head and shoulders were melted.
Movement caught Ace’s eyes and he turned to see Warhawk, still mostly buried but shaking as the warrior inside tried to get it free.
Soon, inevitably, the Steel Viper would succeed. And then…
Ace moved the Stormcrow closer, what had once been a limp now little more than a hop with the one leg that could move a little as the other was barely flexing at all. Tapping his speakers, Ace ordered: “Shut down your ‘mech. And get out.”
His voice, distorted but understandable, was audible from his speakers.
The Warhawk kept struggling.
Ace brought his arm around, trying to guess from the limited display where he would need to aim it to point the muzzle at the cockpit. “Last chance,” he warned, wondering if the weapon would even fire.
For a moment he thought he would have to find out. Then the Warhawk stopped moving and he saw the cockpit hatch open. A slender mechwarrior crawled out and wrenched off his helmet. Rain washed down through his hair, soaking it through, and washing blood off his face.
Relieved, Ace stepped back. “Good enough. You are isorla… or would you rather take bondsref?”
The mechwarrior seemed to speak, but he couldn’t hear a word. Apparently his audio sensors were broken. But the man wasn’t trying to shoot himself.
Then a particle beam smashed into the Stormcrow, blasting away the right arm and Ace’s last weapon. Charged particles grounded through the ‘mech and Ace screamed as he caught the barest fraction of it through the controls, jerking his hands off the joysticks.
Turning, he saw the sinister shape of a Mad Dog limping towards him. The last of Brett Andrews’ Alpha Star… or perhaps the first - the one he had blasted earlier.
It must have been following after them the whole time.
Ace could not fight. He could not flee. Kerensky’s name… he probably couldn’t even surrender.
“Fine then,” he growled, not hearing the speakers from outside. And then he turned the Stormcrow, lurching it towards the damaged Mad Dog.
The ‘mech raised its ER PPC. At his current speed it would have more than enough time to fire repeatedly.
And then pulses of laser fire caught the bird-like ‘mech from behind. A fusillade that would have been brutal against an intact omnimech. In its half-dead state, the Mad Dog stood no chance at all. It fell… and behind it stood the shape of another Warhawk.
Lightning flickered, revealing what was left of blue and green paint.
“Somehow,” Angus Labov told him, “I did not think you would please Ian Hawker by dying here.” He paused. “Nothing to say?”
Ace shut down his reactor and unstrapped himself. The main hatch was warped, but after a few minute’s work, he was able to kick loose the armor glass panel that had been almost shattered earlier and wriggle free. He found the Warhawk had moved closer.
Labov extended one arm up so that Ace could climb across and reach his superior’s cockpit. The Star Colonel cracked the canopy and let the younger mechwarrior scramble in behind him. “Just to reassure you, we won,” he told Ace.
“That is a relief. I thought you were here to tell me to knock it off and accept hegira.”
“Neg.” Labov growled and looked back at him. “Are any of them still active out there?”
“Neg, you got the last of them.” He pointed at Michel, who was sheltering from the rain under the half-buried Warhawk. “I took that one as bondsman.”
“He impressed you?”
“He did not kill himself when I told him.”
Labov closed his eyes. “It is a start. We will need warriors. Besides a few elementals, the two of us are the last of our warriors. Whatever we face next round, I hope they do not have a counter for our aerospace fighters - we will be doing well to field a binary of ‘mechs and elementals.”
Ace flinched. Another meatgrinder. “We have thirteen points. If that does not get us a place in the invasion, I would accept the reserve,” he admitted.
“You and I are reasonable men. Our khan…” Labov broke off. “I brought half my Cluster, the better half, for this Trial. At this rate there will be nothing to bring back,” he said bitterly.
Hilton Head, North America
Terra, Sol System
2 January 3049
The New Year’s celebrations meant that Wei had social obligations - two days of racing around the globe to attend parties leading up to and then following from the changing of the date - all scheduled for local time and therefore strung out across thirty-six hours. In that time she’d made five different sub-orbital hops.
The last time she’d spent that long partying had been before her departure from Canopus IV - an occasion that had involved fun and games with a pair of redheaded fraternal twins that she was pretty sure had been Taurian agents. The man who gave her video recordings of that party had certainly been Taurian and stiffly shocked when she thanked him for his kindness and asked if he’d mind her sharing the recordings with her friends in ComStar’s morality police… er, Psi division. (She didn’t have any, but he didn’t know that).
It was like people thought her hedonism was a guilty secret at times. She literally wrote New Hedonist on her tax forms, what did they expect?
Bangkok could have been another blow-out of that scale, if it wasn’t for being dragged away by the ComGuards for her own safety. And for once the killjoys had had a point.
Both of those occasions had been much more fun than making small talk about business, drinking in moderation and snacking on buffets prepared more for appearance than taste. As the limousine carrying her back to Hilton Head from the shuttle port rolled smoothly onto the bridge connecting the island to the North American mainland, Primus Wei was half-asleep and wondering if she should just ask Thomas Calderon to send the redheads to Terra. Worst case he said no, and those two had known how to have fun!
Wei was in no sense prepared for the sudden freefall as an entire span of the bridge was suddenly severed from the rest of the highway by explosions at both ends. She was only saved from slamming head-first into the roof of the limousine by the fact that she was lying along the width of the car, head on a pillow. The pain of her right arm breaking woke her up sharply.
An instant later, the car hit the water and she slammed back into the seat. It was padded, at least, sparing her more broken bones.
The Primus’ first reaction was to scream and grip her arm, trying to stop the snapped bones from grinding against each other. She wasn’t sure what was going on, but something was seriously wrong. Setting aside the fall, the heavy limousine shouldn’t be bobbing like that, as if it was…
A water line rose above the lower edge of the window and a chill went through Wei. She’d been on a few ocean cruises and safety briefings ran through her mind. The car was sinking - probably kept afloat this long only because the interior was hermetically sealed. And with water pressing against the doors, she’d never get them open.
With a terrified yelp, Wei flailed for the window switch, praying that there was still enough power for it to operate. Fortunately, the armored limousine was built to military specifications and the armor-glass panel obediently retracted, letting cold water pour into the interior.
The limousine began to roll the left side - where Wei’s head was - dipping under the weight of the water entering the card. Wei clung to the seat belts and dragged herself upright, keeping her head above the water line until the top of the window was underwater and there was another moment of stability - the pocket of air still inside the rear compartment conferring a tiny degree of buoyancy.
Wei bit back another scream as she turned over and her arm bones reminded her that yes, they were still broken, and would she please get some damned painkillers! Or failing that, stop moving.
Neither was an option. She could feel the limousine sinking and while the channel between Hilton Head and the mainland wasn’t all that deep, it was still deep enough.
Wriggling around, she pushed her head through the open window. That worked, but getting the rest of her through did not.
Scraping back and forth made it clear that her bust and shoulders were just a bit too large to get through the window. Years of contorting herself for exercise and leisure made the solution obvious, but it would mean letting go of her broken arm.
Better more damage to the arm than drowning, the woman thought. Wei pulled her head back inside, took a deep breath from the air still there and then thrust her left arm out of the window.
With that shoulder through the window, her head followed and then the rest of her - Wei having to bite back howls of pain every time her right arm encountered any obstruction.
After a moment of panic when her hips jammed against the edges, she managed to work herself free and coiled her legs to get them clear of the vehicle, which sank away into the cold water.
Holding her arm in place with one arm, Wei kicked frantically towards the surface, lungs burning. The relief she felt when her head broke up through the water and she could breathe again was the best she’d felt in years. Sometimes the simple pleasures are best, she thought. Who writes a poem to breathing… but go without? Never!
A wave smacked her in the face and she shivered. Stay in the water too long and she’d freeze. It was mid-winter and evening was setting in. Although if she got out, the air could be colder.
The dilemma was replaced by another as the sound of an outboard motor alerted her to an orange inflatable zipping along the bridge. A rescue team - or someone trying to finish the job? This couldn’t be an accident.
****** it, she decided. Being shot was faster than freezing.
“Over -” Another wave and she coughed, “Over here! Help!”
The boat turned towards her, then powerful hands reached down and hauled her up and out of the water. Wei howled as one of them grabbed her by the broken arm.
“Sorry,” the man holding her said, “Broken arm,” he added to his companion.
The other man nodded. “Get the thermal blanket,” he ordered, turning the tiller of the little boat. “We’ll get you to medical attention, ma’am.”
The first of the pair - now that she had a moment, Wei could tell he had a ComGuards badge on his rescue gear - ripped open a sealed plastic bag and unfolded a dry blanket - although water spray was going to correct that soon. He wrapped it around her and started rubbing her down with it.
Wei dragged the blanket around her, feeling it soak up the water on her skin. It was warm - she realized it must have a heating element in it. “Blake’s beard.” Her breath rasped in and out of her lungs. She’d almost died.
“You’ll be alright, we have the best medics,” he told her.
“Bluffton coast guard station?” she asked. The rescue facilities were on the mainland, where they were heading. Security around the HPG station would have kicked and screamed if some random boater was brought onto the island because of an accident, so the emergency procedure was to take anyone recovered from the water to the mainland.
There was a nod. “Are you alone?”
Only then did the thought of the driver cross Wei’s mind. Ashamed, she looked out at the waves. “There was another man in the car.”
The face she could see paled. “I don’t see anyone, ma’am. And you’ll freeze if we don’t get you inside. I’ll let the other boats know.”
They knew their business. Wei bit back any impulse to override them. “Please do.”
“What’s your name?” the man at the back of the boat asked.
He’s trying to keep me talking, she realized. Probably worried about concussion… or shock. “Wei Rong,” she replied. She saw the moment recognition sank in. “Yeah, that Wei Rong. Thanks.”
“It’s what we do,” the driver said modestly. “Jake, let Hilton Head know the Primus is being taken to the coast guard station.”
“Don’t tell them I’m okay,” Wei ordered sharply.
“Ma’am?” Jake asked, hand gripping his comm-unit.
Wei indicated the bridge, the clean break between two of the supports visible. “That was no accident. Right now it’s best whoever did it thinks that they might have succeeded.”
“Screwing with medical reports is an offense,” Jake told her and then shrugged. “Can you write a note for our boss.”
“I’m fairly sure I can put in a good word with the Precentor-Martial,” she told him sharply. Then shook her head. “Multiple broken bones is true. Throw in that I’m fighting for my life and you’re not sure how long I have.”
“****** politics,” the coast guard muttered, but he repeated her instructions on the radio. “They’re going to drop everything to deal with a medical crisis that doesn’t exist. I hope no one else needs those resources.”
“It’s not that far off from truth - no one knows exactly when they’ll die,” Wei pointed out. “And trust me: I am fighting for my life right now.”
She felt a wave of fatigue now that the adrenaline was wearing off. But however tempting it was to close her eyes, the two were right to be worried about shock. “So,” she forced herself to ask. “Are either of you married?”
-
The other Steel Vipers moved smoothly around their fallen companion and the other bird-like ‘mech within the pursuit opened up on Ace from the back of the pack. Autocannon, missiles, a pair of large lasers. This wasn’t another Mad Dog, not even a Timber Wolf. It was a Warhawk, the same basic chassis as that Angus Labov was piloting.[/size]The anti-missile systems did their familiar work, thinning out the LRMs until they and the cluster rounds failed to inflict serious damage, but one of the lasers bit into the leg of the Nova[/b].Ace ducked behind the boulder, letting the Stormcrow cool off. He’d have to draw this out, which meant running… but if he broke contact entirely then Andrews would likely take his ‘mechs back to fight Labov. So a balancing act.
I think you meant Stormcrow here.[/font]
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I suspect Ian Hawker will be facing a regime change soon. Meanwhile, glad to see Wei Rong has survived the attempted one in ComStar so far.
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Ace is turning out to be one of those most-dangerous-sorts of clanners. "Reasonably intelligent'.
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I suspect Ian Hawker will be facing a regime change soon. Meanwhile, glad to see Wei Rong has survived the attempted one in ComStar so far.
That was probably the start of the Comstar civil war. Have to see how many of the first circle survived but the conspiracies realized it was act now or be purged so they swung big and hoped they could pick up the pieces later. Or perhaps they assumed they could decapitate the "heretics" then take control themselves and the rest of the order would fall in line? Hard to say.
And Ian is indeed in for a bad time if he is not careful. He is more crusader than Shark. Which is a very bad idea when you are supposed to lead the Sharks. Not that he is the only one guilty of that. Even Ulric Kerensky ultimately let himself become more Warden than Wolf to the clans great suffering. But yeah Ian is a hard core crusader in a clan that is eh to warden leaning about that issue at this point i think and pisses on many of their cultural points. And he has serious potential issues if he pisses off Labov and Ace enough that they revolt saying he is unfit to lead since he has not taken the field once yet and is more interested in licking Jaguar boot than being the free wheeling merchant Khan he is supposed to be.
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Ace is turning out to be one of those most-dangerous-sorts of clanners. "Reasonably intelligent'.
Five years later
Diamond Shark cluster inbound to Kowloon
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Five years later
Diamond Shark cluster inbound to Kowloon
And they are escorting a trade convoy that is under guest rights because the Sharks have shaken off the stupid and gone back to their trader roots cutting deals with everyone and Kowloon is a damn useful partner and pays bills on time.
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Y'now, this also makes the exact details of the Wars of Reaving questionable. Brett Andrew's was a driving force behind them, and the concept of "tainted legacies".
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Y'now, this also makes the exact details of the Wars of Reaving questionable. Brett Andrew's was a driving force behind them, and the concept of "tainted legacies".
The WoR are exactly what happens when you teach your military governors Lysenkoism instead of science. In a society that actually understands the concept of inherited traits, his dogmas would have been greeted by everyone around him as proof of mental illness and possible stupidity early on.
Especially any society with an actual grasp of genetic inheritance to the point they can alter physical traits to create Elementals, or mitigate the impact of inbreeding to prevent negative traits from becoming dominant (such as albinism, or that disease that plagued the Austro-hungarian ruling family).
However, he WAS taken seriously, which suggests the 'science' education the collective warrior caste got, was based on Lysenko's disproven theories, and not on actual...y'know, science and stuff.
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It could also have been the clans were scared and angry and looking for excuses on top of their normal culture of excel or die. Things just hit a logical extreme as the systems that controlled the violence broke down.
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Hemophilia is what you're looking for, Cannonshop... ^-^
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I think you meant Stormcrow here.
I did. Thank you.
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That was former Wolverine settlement, that Ace fought in, wasn't it?
I reckon Lebov is fairly good role model of high ranking officer for Ace to follow, he can learn for him for when he will have to move up eventually. Also, he can't have revenge on Ian Hawker by acting alone.
That was probably the start of the Comstar civil war.
I wouldn't call a full civil war, more a Comstar hidden war. I reckon Focht has good enough grasp on Comguards for open fighting not to break, but there will be assassinations and sabotage by hostile elements of ROM, until they are ferreted out and there might be raids by forces assembled on hidden worlds. Crucially, there is no reformation, thus no real schism, so the wast majority of Comstar sees this as nothing more than power struggle, with most probably being on the side of Primus who in their opinion is trying to clear the house of unsavory elements and is opposed by rogue elements of ROM who went out of control under the reign of Waterly and are surely to be blamed for 3046 assassination olympics.
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That was former Wolverine settlement, that Ace fought in, wasn't it?
I reckon Lebov is fairly good role model of high ranking officer for Ace to follow, he can learn for him for when he will have to move up eventually. Also, he can't have revenge on Ian Hawker by acting alone.
Labov will have a great deal of clout after winning a slot in Revival for his clan - probably enough to ride towards being elected saKhan, and then possibly challenging Hawker´s position as senior khan.
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That was former Wolverine settlement, that Ace fought in, wasn't it?
I honestly don't think so, really.
Take a look at Ace's description of it:
There was battle damage, now that he was amid the towers. Broken walls, shattered roadways. Wires between the buildings that had been snapped by ‘mechs racing between them. And as he looked into the interior of the buildings, Ace found them hollow shells.
It was the effigy of a city. Intended to give the image of one, without the substance. Who would build such a thing? And why?
It's not a real city, it's a duelling venue or training ground mocked up to look like one.
Doesn't mean it's not Wolverines. Just that it was probably never actually inhabited.
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I wouldn't call a full civil war, more a Comstar hidden war. I reckon Focht has good enough grasp on Comguards for open fighting not to break, but there will be assassinations and sabotage by hostile elements of ROM, until they are ferreted out and there might be raids by forces assembled on hidden worlds. Crucially, there is no reformation, thus no real schism, so the wast majority of Comstar sees this as nothing more than power struggle, with most probably being on the side of Primus who in their opinion is trying to clear the house of unsavory elements and is opposed by rogue elements of ROM who went out of control under the reign of Waterly and are surely to be blamed for 3046 assassination olympics.
Not so hidden frankly. They just dropped a bridge and killed God only knows how many to try to murder the Primus and that was probably just part of a first strike. This is probably desperation fueled by religious madness so yeah the vast majority will turn against the Blakists and things are going to be very very ugly in the short term but hopefully the organization as a whole while get, mostly, purified. They wont get all of them. Cant really given the nature of the heresy but they should push it down to the point it hidden ambitions and nuttery that is caught before it can go anywhere by the reformed internal police and fellows who dont want the bad times to come back.
Comstar is there to help people not rule and when that idea gains prominence suffering is the only result. That is the Blakist legacy here and frankly every universe.
Labov will have a great deal of clout after winning a slot in Revival for his clan - probably enough to ride towards being elected saKhan, and then possibly challenging Hawker´s position as senior khan.
I am increasingly certain this will end with Ace a khan. 3 time at least death strike recipient who was instrumental in at least two victories in trials for a invasion slot plus earlier victories? Even as a freebirth he is to useful to shut out and to dangerous to. There is a very good chance Labov will be the next khan when he unseats the unworthy Ian then selects Ace as his sakhan hatchet man.
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Not so hidden frankly. They just dropped a bridge and killed God only knows how many to try to murder the Primus and that was probably just part of a first strike. This is probably desperation fueled by religious madness so yeah the vast majority will turn against the Blakists and things are going to be very very ugly in the short term but hopefully the organization as a whole while get, mostly, purified. They wont get all of them. Cant really given the nature of the heresy but they should push it down to the point it hidden ambitions and nuttery that is caught before it can go anywhere by the reformed internal police and fellows who dont want the bad times to come back.
Comstar is there to help people not rule and when that idea gains prominence suffering is the only result. That is the Blakist legacy here and frankly every universe.
I am increasingly certain this will end with Ace a khan. 3 time at least death strike recipient who was instrumental in at least two victories in trials for a invasion slot plus earlier victories? Even as a freebirth he is to useful to shut out and to dangerous to. There is a very good chance Labov will be the next khan when he unseats the unworthy Ian then selects Ace as his sakhan hatchet man.
I think Ace will make splendid hatchet-man. He doesn't crave POWER, he seeks Excellence.
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The WoR are exactly what happens when you teach your military governors Lysenkoism instead of science. In a society that actually understands the concept of inherited traits, his dogmas would have been greeted by everyone around him as proof of mental illness and possible stupidity early on.
Especially any society with an actual grasp of genetic inheritance to the point they can alter physical traits to create Elementals, or mitigate the impact of inbreeding to prevent negative traits from becoming dominant (such as albinism, or that disease that plagued the Austro-hungarian ruling family).
However, he WAS taken seriously, which suggests the 'science' education the collective warrior caste got, was based on Lysenko's disproven theories, and not on actual...y'know, science and stuff.
Or, the political forces and incentives to find some way to cut the homeworlds off from the Inner Sphere clans were so powerful that Andrews' followers were willing to not think too hard about the actual science of it all. Motivated reasoning is an extremely powerful force in humanity, and the Clans were never a society which exactly encouraged humility, introspection, self-doubt, reflection, or caution.
Labov will have a great deal of clout after winning a slot in Revival for his clan - probably enough to ride towards being elected saKhan, and then possibly challenging Hawker´s position as senior khan.
And his history in OTL shows that he's quite good in the role; if Angus does win the Khanship, I expect the Sharks will be extremely well-placed to excel in the invasion. Even if the Sharks are a reserve clan, I think they'd do a much better job than, e.g., the Vipers of developing and keeping control of any bits of Lyran industry they can get their hands on.
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Not so hidden frankly. They just dropped a bridge and killed God only knows how many to try to murder the Primus and that was probably just part of a first strike
Wei was coming back on New Year's eve to Hilton Head, the Comstar HQ on Terra. One, few people will be on the road, even if Two, it wasn't closed to other traffic like a Presidental motorcade often is.
Basically a combination of the holiday, time, normally restricted access, and possibly sole access to her car and any security vehicles with it would limit the damage. As well as make clear to the person setting off the charges the target was on the bridge.
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Or it could have been one of the places the Scorpions trained the Dragoons.
I honestly don't think so, really.
Take a look at Ace's description of it:
It's not a real city, it's a duelling venue or training ground mocked up to look like one.
Doesn't mean it's not Wolverines. Just that it was probably never actually inhabited.
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Opalescent Reflections
Dealer’s Choice
Chapter 7
Katyusha, Strana Mechty
Kerensky Cluster, Clan Homeworlds
3 January 3049
Lincoln Osis had been knocked unconscious and half-buried when the side of canyon collapsed on the Sixth Jaguar Dragoons. After he’d been dug out, the medical staff had advised him to avoid stress for at least forty-eight hours.
SaKhan Sarah Weaver could only assume the medic in question had never met the Khan before. The hulking Elemental had just slammed his fist against the wall so hard that the plaster had broken to reveal the brick-work behind it. She could see blood on his knuckles, but she doubted be cared.
“What do you mean, they are getting away with it? We cannot let them think that they can use such dezgra tactics to win victories they do not deserve!”
The anger radiating off her immediate superior suggested that one wrong move would turn the conversation into a Trial of Grievance and Sarah started considering how to handle that. If she set him off and he got his hands on her then it wouldn’t end well - she’d have to cripple him quickly.
Of course, several tons of sandstone landing on Osis had not been enough to stop him, so that was easier said than done.
IlKhan Leo Showers either had no fear or was completely confident he could disable his successor as the leader of Clan Smoke Jaguar. “We will not complain about their tactics,” he replied stoically, “Because that would be the loser -” He dismissed Osis’ glare with an arched eyebrow. “Whining about being beaten. We will thank the Goliath Scorpions for delivering a textbook example of the filthy, dezgra tactics that the soldiers of the Scavenger Lords may use against us.”
Sarah frowned. “You think that that is likely? I have fought bandits who showed more honor than the Goliath Scorpions’ First Cateran Cluster did.”
The strategic implications of the loss were concerning, but she wasn’t as upset about it as Lincoln Osis. She hadn’t been part of the force so she had no reason to be embarrassed at the way they had been handled.
The canyon side collapsing due to charges left by Scorpion elementals had only been the first in a series of traps and ambushes that had bled the trinary out over the course of several hours. Two ‘mechs had dropped into pitfalls lined with explosives and were probably unsalvageable. Four mechwarriors were dead after Scorpions baited them into alpha strikes and then opened fire with inferno SRMs - something Sarah had had to look up. Filling a warhead with napalm rather than explosives, who thought of things like that?
It had been death by a thousand poisonous cuts and the only solution Sarah had thought of so far was to decline to be drawn into the traps. But that meant yielding the initiative, something that rarely went well.
The ilKhan looked at her. “Which invasion corridor are we fighting for?” he asked simply.
Sarah felt the scar across one side of her scalp tighten. “The Alpha Corridor is the most honorable,” she answered. “Facing the Federated Commonwealth. Although… ah.”
“We cannot win that corridor unless both the Jade Falcons and the Diamond Sharks cede it to us,” Lincoln admitted, looking a bit sick. Possibly due to a concussion.
“Correct. Both of them have thirteen points now, and only two points are won by the victors in the last round of the Placement Trials,” Leo Showers reminded them. “Since we and the Ghost Bears both lost our rounds, the two of them are unassailable in terms of winning a place in the invasion. Whichever of them wins their upcoming trial will take Alpha corridor and the other will take Delta, facing the Draconis Combine. Since the Wolves were assigned Beta corridor as the bearers of the Founder’s legacy, that leaves only Gamma corridor to be claimed.”
“How does that relate to the dezgra tactics used by the Goliath Scorpions?” Sarah asked him.
Showers shook his head. “This is why you were never able to displace me, or even to take my seat once I was elected ilKhan,” he told her condescendingly.
Sarah’s fists clenched. “Enlighten me,” she requested.
“The data from the Outbound Light tells us that a realm named the Free Rasalhague Republic has been formed within the region we will be invading,” Showers told them both. “They broke away from the Lyran Commonwealth and Draconis Combine by means of a terrorist organization named Tyr. Since that same organization contributed heavily to the Rasalhague touman, we cannot expect their warriors to fight honorably. You may very well find yourselves facing similar tactics. So we will thank the Scorpions for the lesson.” He paused. “I will stress that now that the lesson has been delivered, that no repeat is required. And later, once more important matters are resolved, then the Jaguars’ fury will be unleashed.”
“So their next opponents, the Star Adders, do not face the same cowardly tactics and they benefit -”
“Lincoln, think!” Leo Showers rose sharply to his face, his anger focused like a knife. Even though she wasn’t the target, Sarah recoiled from the aura of menace. “We want the Scorpions to lose. We need them to lose. They have as many points as ourselves and the Ghost Bears. That makes this a three-way race for Gamma Corridor, and the runner up will only be the reserve Clan.”
“We will face the Ghost Bears in the next round,” Sarah observed. “The two points from that… even if we win. Which we must,” she added hastily.
“Aff,” Showers agreed. “If the Bears and the Scorpions both win then our Clan will not even be a reserve for the invasion. If that happens, I will be humiliated in front of the Grand Council and I assure you that the Clan Council will remove both of you.”
The peril of rising to Khanship in a Clan was that there were always those eager to bring you down. Clan Smoke Jaguar were leaders among the Crusader faction, their Khan had successfully driven through the vote to invade and won himself the ilKhanship. If the Jaguars faltered now then the wrath would be ferocious. It would likely go beyond a loss of office, Sarah thought. It was entirely possible her bloodright would be reaved and the sibkos created with her genetics eradicated, to remind all future khans of the consequences of failure.
“Whether the Scorpions win or not is out of our hands,” she said out loud. “But if we and they both win…”
“Then we will fight a tiebreaker,” Lincoln Osis hissed. “And I will crush them.” He clenched his fists, as if already imagining the rematch.”
“Neg. If there is a draw in points and the two clans have already fought during the Trial, then the winner of that match is judged the better. Do you understand the magnitude of your failure, Lincoln Osis?” The ilKhan turned his back on the two of them and marched to the window looking out over the city of Katyusha, the city established by Nicholas Kerensky. The Founder might have looked down on his capital from this very office once. The ilKhan’s office had most likely never been moved from this room in all the history of the Clans.
“A trial of refusal could be fought,” Sarah said slowly, “But the odds would be based on the vote to adopt the Trial structure in the first place. And most Khans accepted them. Only a few Khans, mostly those not participating, opposed it. Six to one at least.”
“Aff,” Leo shook his head. “I would let you try, Lincoln Osis. But most likely you would fail. That is why it is just as important that Star Adders must defeat the Goliath Scorpions as it is that you bring the Bears down.”
“That we can do,” Sarah allowed. “Lincoln, I can lead the Sixth Jaguar Dragoons if you are not recovered, quiaff.”
“Neg! I will be fit. I am fit now, whatever the medic says.” The hulking Khan folded his arms defiantly.
Sarah shrugged. “You are Khan.” I made the offer, she thought. If you lose then I will heap all the blame on you and resign. That might save my bloodname and my legacy. Let all the rage burn out on you and I can rebuild my reputation before retaking my Khanship.
“Yes,” Osis agreed, not privy to her thoughts. “Remember that.”
“The Ghost Bears defeated the Goliath Scorpions in the preliminaries,” Shower continued as if the conversation had not happened. “When both Clans fail - when, not if - the Ghost Bears will become reserves unless the Goliath Scorpions can win their own Trial of Refusal. Defeat the Bears, Lincoln, and you can bid for the right to take revenge on them then.”
“And if you do not win the bid, we can launch Trials of Possession for supplies,” Sarah pointed out. “We will need considerable supplies for the invasion. I see no reason that we cannot acquire them from the Goliath Scorpions, to remind them of their place.”
Shower turned around and returned to his desk. “I will not deny you revenge, whichever of those paths is taken. Or take both. But first things first. Clan Smoke Jaguar must win the Gamma Corridor. Everything comes second to that.”
“Seyla,” the two Khans agreed.
“And once you have secured that, both of you read the data from the jumpship we captured. It is not just a spur to convince the Wardens to stop blocking our return to the Inner Sphere. It is also the most accurate information we have received on the situation in the Inner Sphere since the Wolf Dragoons stopped sending reports.” Showers shook his head. “There will be bidding for the right to conquer the worlds and if you do not set an example of knowing what resistance is likely, how can you expect your subordinates to do so?”
Hilton Head, North America
Terra, Sol System
5 January 3049
The cast on Wei Rong’s arm would have blended nicely with the white robes of the Primus, and the sleeves were probably wide enough for her to work her arm through them. Unfortunately, right at the first point that the heavy robes would have suited her, they were too obvious an indicator of who she was.
And so, Wei was smuggling herself back onto Hilton head wearing most of a ComGuards infantry kit, including a rain poncho that covered up the cast nicely. So long as no one noticed she was a little on the short-side for the requirements, she thought she’d get away with it.
“As long as Norris and Murphy don’t spot you, it should be fine,” Precentor Martial Focht told her as they walked through the entrance to the underground storehouses. “Most Precentors treat the ComGuards security like decorations.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.”
He gave her a slight smile. “It works out well in the end. The best security is often that which is overlooked.” Then the smile dropped off his face. “I regret that our security failed you. Whoever planted the bombs on the bridge got past all the measures we’ve taken against such threats.”
“Against that,” Wei told him, “I have to balance the superb reaction time of the rescue team. They had me out of the water and into safety as fast as was humanly possible. And it was already too late for poor Jose.”
The limousine had been found by divers and efforts were underway to recover it from the strait. Unfortunately, her driver hadn’t made it out of the vehicle - after the initial drop into the water, the modest fusion reactor had been breached. While it wasn’t running as hot as a military grade equivalent, it was hot enough and the influx of salt water had sent scalding steam through every crevice - including cracks that the impact had created between the engine compartment and the driver’s. Only the fact that the rear seat and the front were completely separated had saved Wei from being scalded to death in the same way.
“Nonetheless,” Focht told her. “After what happened in 3046, I wanted to assure that there would be no repeat. If, once this is over, you would like my resignation -”
“You’re not getting out of this so easily.” Wei shook her head. “If I’m trapped in this madhouse then you don’t get to escape either.”
Elswick Cameron (who had plausible evidence that he wasn’t related to the former ruling dynasty of the Terran Hegemony) and Dahlia Erin were waiting for the two of them in van filled with a quite implausible amount of electronics. Precentor Cameron, the head of Mu Division, looked quite at home in the van but his colleague looked eager to leave.
There was just enough room for two more people in the van, which left Wei pressed up against the powerfully built soldier.
“Primus.” Cameron bowed his head. “For someone reportedly on death’s door, you seem to be in quite good health.”
“With a bit of luck, the conspirators will be similarly surprised,” she told him. “Dahlia, stop fidgeting and report please.”
“I don’t know who planted the explosives,” the woman admitted. “But there was an attempt to replace the forensic samples taken to identify the bombs. We carried our own substitution just barely in time, so as far as they know we should be following a rabbit hole that leads back to Solaris VII and then to a Lyran C-34 shipment that ‘went missing’ six months ago.”
“And actually?” Focht asked, leaning forwards.
“It’s C-34 alright, but it came from Dieron,” Dahlia said flatly. “The shipment is one we bought legitimately because Terran manufacture doesn’t quite keep up with the ComGuards’ needs.”
Wei rubbed her face. “An inside job?”
“It seems likely. The shipment is in a warehouse on Dieron as far as the paperwork goes, and I suspect most of it is. Just that enough was removed and brought on to Terra for this purpose.” She looked over at Cameron.
“Precentor Dieron is on Terra,” he confirmed. “And he brought enough baggage to have smuggled it here. Once I started digging, he’s part of Waterly’s group by way of Sharilar Mori.”
Wei made a ‘carry on’ gesture. Tim Satou had been quite happy to accept Dieron station without the usual appointment to serve as Precentor-Advocate. She’d rather liked him during her brief visit to Dieron.
“I think we’re dealing with a mole,” he said unhappily. “Or rather a ring of them. I’ve never been with Omicron myself, but I think someone high up on that side of the Dieron station was compromised and had been…” he looked for a word… “Carefully influencing the assessments of recruits out of the Combine. Not often, but enough to slip some ringers through the security checks. Some of the reports being sent don’t quite match and Omicron’s own reports don’t quite match those on the rest of our databases.”
“How long has it been going on?” asked Focht seriously.
“Hard to say until we’ve done a wider check, but Tim Satou joined the Order in 3027, so at least twenty years.” Cameron frowned. “Once I have a list of suspects, I can cross-reference for personnel who were there and in a position to influence things.”
Wei’s eyes narrowed. “Sharilar Mori was Omicron-Nu at Dieron before Waterly tapped her as her assistant. That isn’t a smoking gun yet, but it suggests there was a security breach right at the heart of the Dieron-Toyamist faction.”
“You think she was ISF?” asked Cameron.
“Or Order of Five Pillars,” Focht offered. “They lean more towards Theodore Kurita and as Mori was an intermediary for negotiations between he and Waterly…”
“What’s the Order of Five Pillars?” Wei asked, confused.
“A religious order focused on the philosophies that underlie the Draconis Combine,” Dahlia advised. “They aren’t a fully fledged intelligence service, but they do have some agents. Not a major player, but since they have to play against the ISF, they’re very good.”
“Interesting,” she admitted. “But either way, our response is the same. This is Upsilon division’s first real test. We need the entire Dieron station locked down for investigation, without alerting anyone outside of the Order. Ideally, with as little information getting out to the rest of ComStar as can be arranged - at least until Cameron’s people can identify them. Precentor Upsilon, are your people ready for this.”
Erin, who had been transferred over polite protest to head the new division, dipped her head. “Without knowing how far security is compromised, alerting security staff on Dieron isn’t viable. That means sending a new core staff to take over operations, and getting them in before Precentor Satou realizes what’s happening.”
“The ComGuard presence on Dieron isn’t high,” Focht added. “A single Level-II of mechanized infantry for the HPG itself. Secondary facilities like the warehouses use local hires. Rotating one of the infantry Level-Is out for active service shouldn’t draw attention, but even if we jumped someone in system right now, it would take them nine days to arrive. Using a pirate point would be too suspicious.”
“You have ten days,” Wei decided. “The First Circuit are already on their way to Terra to deal with my reported incapacity, but there was no time to set up command circuits. Cameron, I need as much evidence as you can gather before then. There’s been enough time for them to have second thoughts about DRUM - and about Upsilon in particular. I want to hit them with Omicron’s failure and Upsilon’s success.”
-
Ironhold City, Ironhold
Kerensky Cluster, Clan Homeworlds
6 January 3049
The tavern was crowded tonight. It shouldn’t have been a surprise - they had the best holotank of any tavern in the district and tonight’s footage was hotly anticipated.
Still, there weren’t many seats open for Aidan Pryde and Horse as they arrived.
“I told you we should have gotten here sooner, quaiff?” the freeborn warrior reminded his superior.
“Aff,” Aidan agreed. “And we would have been here sooner, if someone hadn’t taken a shortcut that took us longer than the usual route.”
“I knew there were roadworks, that was why I wanted to leave sooner. I just did not know that that particular road was cut off,” Horse replied with an air of offended dignity. “So, who gets the drinks and who finds us seats?”
“I will get the table.” Aidan raised one fist. “Or do you challenge that?”
His companion matched him. “I like my chance against your batchall more than I like the scrum at the bar.”
All around them, warriors scrambled back, getting their drinks clear of the impending brawl.
“Three, two, one,” the two Jade Falcons chanted, pumping their hands back and forth. On the third repetition, Aidan’s open hand was facing Horse’s fist.
“I was sure you’d go elemental this time,” Horse bitched.
Aidan smirked. “That is why I bid aero. Get us drinks.”
The tension of the room as those around them realized no actual fists were going to be thrown. Some looked disappointed, others just confused at the bizarre trial.
There were the occasional spare seats up on the ground floor, but no pairs and Aidan wasn’t in the mood to fight for one. Instead he went up the stairs to check the prospects and saw one table, at the edge of the balcony, was occupied by a lone woman with a Star Captain’s rank tags on the collar. She looked familiar, but that wasn’t unusual. Certain genotypes were common with each clan and she could have been any of a dozen different women he had met, when looked at from behind.
Two free seats with a good view, though? It was too good to pass up. Aidan approached the table and then tapped the two open chairs. “I claim these seats for the… Nega… Garrison Cluster.”
“Oh not you!” his old Falconer snarled. “Frag off.”
Aidan glanced around. No wonder the chairs were free. He didn’t know anyone who liked Joanna. But he was not spoiled for choice. “No,” he said and dropped into one of the seats.
“I could fight you.”
“And get thrown out before the Trial begins?” Aidan asked her. “You want to miss the last match of the placement finals?”
Joanna visibly weighed both options. “Fine. I will put up with you and the freebirth you keep dragging around, but only until the Trial is over.”
“Aidan, you found chairs!” Horse exclaimed, walking over with two glasses. Then he saw who was already at the table. “And trouble. Chairs and trouble.”
“I know it is hard for you, but shut your mouth.” Joanna punctuated the order by slapping the table with the flat of her hand.
Horse gave Aidan a look that clearly expressed ‘could you not have found another table? Any other table?’ but he still handed over one of the beer glasses.
“I thought you would get yourselves thrown out a moment ago,” Joanna continued. “Do I want to know what you were doing?”
“It is a simple contest,” Aidan explained. “Each gesture represents elementals, battlemechs or aerospace. Each wins out over one of the others. A simple trial we use.”
“Two Star Captains playing a child’s game,” the older warrior snorted.
Horse chuckled.
“What?!”
“Aidan, show her your rank pins.”
Obediently, he adjusted his jacket and watched his former teacher’s reaction as she realized that he now outranked her. Once her initial horror had faded, Joanna picked up her glass and drained it. “Clearly, the Clan has reached the nadir of its fortunes. What cluster?”
“Nega Garrison,” Aidan told her. “Who are you with these days?”
“The Falcon Guards,” she told him.
“Ah, so you will be traveling to the Inner Sphere. It’s a long voyage.”
Joanne nodded. “And I feel much better about the ideas since you will be a thousand light years away from me. We did not bid any Garrison Clusters.”
“We will see how long that lasts. There are thousands of worlds there, worlds we know almost nothing about,” Horse pointed out. “How many garrison units do we need to rule just our current enclaves.”
For a moment, Aidan thought he saw some doubt in Joanna’s eyes, but perhaps he was mistaken. “That is the Khan’s concern,” she replied dismissively. But she didn’t tell Horse to shut up.
Aidan leant back and tasted his beer. Well, he was here for the holotank, not the beer. It was… adequate. “So, are you hoping to fight the Lyrans or the Draconians?” He gestured to where the holotank displayed a trinary of the Gyrfalcon Guards moving out to enter the trial area. “That is what this will decide.”
“I do not care,” the old warrior said. “Who do we fight if we beat the Diamond Sharks?”
“It is up to the Khan, but most likely the Lyrans.”
“Them then. I hate losing.” She studied the empty glass in her hand. “And there is a Diamond Shark who ought to die.”
Aidan leant back in his chair. “What did they do to you?”
“Nothing. I have never met him.” Joanna slammed the glass down on the table. “He reminds me of you.”
“There are two of him?” Horse asked, leaning forwards.
“Worse,” she told him. “He is freeborn.”
The freeborn warrior nodded. “Shameful,” he said ironically.
“You are.” She shook her head. “And he won a bloodname.”
Horse blinked. “Is that allowed?”
“That is what I mean. The stravag does not care what is right. He killed his own bloodhouse leader. Made a mockery of the entire bloodname trial.” The old warrior gestured with her glass. “When I saw the Steel Vipers hunting him, I wished them to win. Steel Vipers! It is not right.”
“You hate Steel Vipers?”
“I hate everyone who is not a Jade Falcon,” Joanna reminded them. “And some of them.”
Aidan rubbed his chin. “Well, perhaps you will get lucky and one of Mar Helmer’s warriors will kill him.”
“Eh, Gyrfalcon Guards.”
“Ah.” There was no clear best galaxy among the forces of Clan Jade Falcon. Gamma Galaxy, sometimes known as the Jade Falcon Galaxy, claimed that right and their premier cluster was Joanna’s Falcon Guards. But Delta, the Gyrfalcon Galaxy, was also a claimant to be predominant and the Gyrfalcon Guards cluster were their own banner bearers. It was a rivalry believed to bring out the best in each of the two.
The holotank cut to the Diamond Shark forces marching out onto the battlefield. The two force were near mirrors of each other, Aidan noted. A single star of Omnimechs, carrying a star of Elementals, and a star of aerospace fighters flying above them. The only difference was a sixth ‘mech in the Sharks’ ranks - and a few less Elementals.
“That is him,” Joanna told them, pointing.
It was by far the smallest of the Diamond Shark ‘mechs, a Stormcrow. And it was visibly battered, paint not concealing armor that had been recently patched. It had been days since their last battle, and it had been repaired, but that was not the standard that Aidan would expect from the techs of a Clan as wealthy as the Diamond Sharks.
“Are they not repairing their ‘mechs?” he asked.
Joanna made disgusted noise. “I am amazed he even has a ‘mech. Nomad said he thought it was fit for scrap.” Nomad was the Star Captain’s technician - he had been Aidan’s superior once, during his brief period as a washout and a comrade of sorts when Aidan fought on Glory Station. His opinion was not to be disregarded.
“The rules say that ‘mechs cannot be replaced,” Horse recalled. “Perhaps they needed it to make up the numbers. I heard that the Diamond Sharks lost much of the forces bid against the Star Adders and the Steel Vipers.”
“Yes. But never him,” Joanna grumbled.
The countdown that had been quietly running in the corner of the display reached zero and a silence fell across the tavern as the Trial began. This was the conclusion of the Placement Trials, the grand finale.
Of course, Aidan thought, it probably mattered less than any of the others. Clan Jade Falcon had guaranteed their place in the invasion, the right to have one of the two most challenging corridors, the places of greatest honor. The other two trials in this final round would decide the third invading clan, and the reserve, with another Clan likely eliminated. But those trials did not include Clan Jade Falcon, and thus this one was the one that mattered.
Aidan smiled to himself. Then again, I feel the same way. So perhaps it is not so strange.
And then, though they were clearly nowhere near the Jade Falcons, the Diamond Sharks opened up with a full fusillade.
“What are they doing?” Horse exclaimed.
Aidan frowned. “I do not know.”
“It is probably his fault,” Joanna said resignedly.
As abruptly as they had begun, the Diamond Sharks ceased fire and led by a Warhawk at one end of the line, the ‘mechs turned sharply around and marched backwards and out of the proving ground, the aerospace fighters above them still providing cover.
The holodisplay switched to a head and shoulders view of Edmund Hoyt, the Smoke Jaguar Loremaster. Aidan recalled that he had been appointed arbiter of this particular Trial. He was not doing a good job of hiding bemusement. “I have received a transmission,” he declared, “From Star Colonel Angus Labov, the leader of the Diamond Shark force. He declares that his Clan is satisfied with second place and cedes the first choice of invasion corridor to the honorable Clan Jade Falcon. I am therefore awarding the victory, and the two points, to the Jade Falcons.”
Voices immediately raised within the tavern, both those excited at the victory and those outraged at winning the first place in such a way. Had the Diamond Sharks been fairly defeated… or had they sold victory to the Jade Falcons. At what price?
“Riot?” Horse asked Aidan.
He nodded. “Time to go.”
Joanna raised her glass to throw it over the balcony at one loudmouth who was declaring admiration for Mar Helmer’s bargaining. Aidan caught her hand. “If you throw the first blow, you may lose your place in the Falcon Guards,” he reminded her. “Let’s get out of here.”
“I hate you even more when you are right,” she told him. But she did join the two men - and they made it to the stairs before the first fist was thrown.
Hilton Head, North America
Terra, Sol System
15 January 3049
“There is a clear precedent,” Andrew Norris observed, a warning in his voice. “After Julian Tiepolo’s stroke, the First Circuit agreed that he would not be replaced due to what might be temporary incapacity.”
“Maybe so, but Buckley’s right - we need a leader.” Joe Murphy’s counterpoint as the First Circuit bickered was as good an opening as Wei Rong expected to get.
“Fortunately, you have one,” she announced, pushing the side-door she’d been sitting behind open. However tight the electronic security around the meeting chamber was (now that the various surveillance devices had been removed), an open door was still an effective way to eavesdrop. “I apologize for being delayed.”
“Primus!” Tiger Lily exclaimed. “We heard that you were unable to communicate. Precentor Kappa even said that you could not receive visitors.”
“I came close to death,” Wei admitted, moving up to the podium. Her arm was still in a cast, although a slightly less restrictive one than she had worn a week ago. “And until there was some assurance that there would be no follow-up attempts, it was too dangerous to approach the other senior leadership directly.”
“I noticed tighter security around Hilton Head,” Murphy agreed. “Seems like closing the barn door after the horse has bolted.”
“If it were not for the guards we had, I might not have survived,” she told him. “Which does not assuage the Precentor-Martial’s concerns.”
“I saw the bridge that was destroyed,” Buckley observed tersely. The New Avalon Precentor folded his arms. “For him to let outsiders penetrate our security to the point they could do that, the Precentor-Martial is right to be concerned, for his position as well as our safety.”
“Interesting that you say outsiders,” Wei observed. Although Buckley had served at Dieron, she was assured by Cameron that his records had none of the adjustments that had been identified in others. Sometimes a fervent Toyamist was exactly what he seemed to be and nothing more. “Unfortunately, we are dealing with something more insidious than commandos from one of the Successor States.”
The information gathered on Dieron did not suggest that the attack had been ordered by Theodore Kurita, or his father. For now, that would save the Draconis Combine a punitive Interdiction. Given that doing so would likely destroy the delicate balance of power, triggering opportunistic attacks on the state, Wei hoped that no new developments would point the finger at House Kurita.
“The bombs that dropped the bridge while I was crossing it were a response to our reforms and the restructuring of our intelligence service,” she advised them. “Not led by those directly affected by the changes - although it was former members of Omicron division who did the dirty work - but those who realized that the reorganization would reveal their own subversion of elements of ROM.”
“I was afraid that our actions might spark this,” warned Gwyn Thorne.
“Yes, you did tell us so,” Wei agreed. “But I doubt that you, or any of us, realized how far Primus Waterly and Precentor Seneca had allowed ROM to rot. We have always been challenged to ensure that those who join our Order set aside loyalty to their birth nation. And it only took one patriot,” she emphasized the world, “In the right place, to compromise our security.”
Norris shook his head. “If this is an House’s agent, then how can you say that this isn’t the work of an outsider?”
“Because it was not the ISF, the Maskirova, the MIIO, LIC or any other intelligence agency.” She was stretching the truth as far as she could right now, and it would likely not be applauded if it came out. “One of acolytes managed to hide the fact that she felt that ComStar should support her home nation - either for the nation’s sake out of sincere belief that this was the best way to serve Blake’s will. Perhaps both. This acolyte became an adept, within Omicron-Tau, and she was able to arrange that those who shared her views were admitted without the stringent re-education or barriers that should have been applied to them.” Wei paused. “And then that adept, under the sponsorship of those who should have seen the truth, elevated her further. Implicitly accepting and endorsing her views.”
“Who is this traitor?” Buckley demanded. “Is she in custody and if not, why not?”
“Your former superior, Precentor Sharilar Mori,” Wei replied quietly. “And it is hard to detain a corpse.”
“Wh-what? Preposterous! Impossible!” The Precentor’s face paled. “Mori was handpicked by Waterly, she was her most faithful follower!”
“Yes. During a period that ComStar was indeed providing considerable support to the Draconis Combine. I doubt very much that Primus Waterly realized that she was validating Mori’s beliefs, letting her serve both our Order and the nation of their birth. A belief that violates our neutrality, and one that outlived Mori in the form of her own proteges.”
“I have never seen any sign of this,” Buckley exploded.
“And yet you did serve in Dieron, under both Mori and Waterly,” Tiger Lily pointed out.
Wei raised her one good arm for silence. “There is no evidence Precentor Buckley is or was ever within the group. Mu division, working in conjunction with Upsilon division, have been able to identify the records altered by Mori and her supporters. While that list is longer than any of us should like, Joe Buckley’s record is not among them. No one in this room is under the slightest suspicion.” She paused. “Alas, that cannot be said for all of the First Circuit. Some hours ago, Precentor Timothy Satou and the other senior staff of Dieron HPG station were detained and replacements have taken the helm. Coded orders have gone out to detain other personnel - including four other Precentors within the Draconis Combine, but the core of what may be called a conspiracy were on Dieron.”
“If they had not struck at you, Primus, how long would it have taken to uncover this?” Precentor Atreus asked.
“The review that uncovered the alterations was already underway,” Wei answered. “It was only a matter of time - thus their sudden action to remove me, presumably hoping to hide the evidence or even abort the review in the confusion. Instead it only drew attention to them sooner that it might have.”
“All of this within your area of responsibility, Andrew,” Gwyn challenged. “How did you miss this?”
“How did Waterly? Or Buckley, who must have worked alongside them,” the former teacher pointed out.
“Enough.” Wei kept her voice from rising, but she spoke sharply enough that the word cut across the chamber. She gripped the podium with one hand. “It was missed because the administration of ComStar has become too concentrated. Sharilar Mori could not have hidden her actions if not for the fact that one Precentor was trying to oversee actions across an entire Successor State and doing so with insufficient oversight. The decision to bring the five Precentor-Advocates - as were,” she added with a nod to Thorne. “Was wise, but the subsequent shift of administrative authority to them has backfired. Combined with your diplomatic responsibilities, I doubt any of you can truly keep up - relying on a staff of trusted aides and staffers. And as with Waterly and Mori, if one of those adepts does not fully support you, it has the potential for catastrophe.”
“What are you suggesting, Primus?” Tiger Lily asked suspiciously.
Producing a data-disk from her pocket, Wei inserted it into her podium. A holographic map of the Inner Sphere popped up into the air between the First Circuit. Each state was outlined in its national colors. “The first measure I propose is to bring the original twelve seats back. Precentor Satou excluded, there have been no security concerns with them and his replacement has been seated. In addition, I intend to add four other Precentor-Advocates to the First Circuit: St Ives, Alpheratz, Taurus and Canopus.”
Each of the four named systems lit up.
“The latter will remove some regions from the administrative demands currently imposed on you, while the former will provide a pool of senior Precentors who can support ComStar’s central administration, meaning that Precentor-Advocates are under less pressure to split their time between their own HPG stations and Terra. A larger First Circuit also allows more granular representation of different views within the Order.”
“Some of those realms are trivial in size compared to the Successor States,” complained Buckley.
Wei tilted her head. “We do not discount the votes of Sian or Rasalhague, which are also the capitals of states very much smaller than the Federated Suns.” Then she gestured at the spacious hall. “And I believe there is more than enough room here for additional members of the First Circuit.”
“I support these measures,” Gwyn Thorne asserted. “I propose an immediate vote.”
“Immediate?” Wei asked. “That’s…” Why was she being so sudden?
“They are self-evidently well founded,” Precentor Rasalhague told her. “Only a selfish desire to concentrate power in our hands - which in some cases is clearly more control than we can effectively wield - would say otherwise.”
Tiger Lily nodded. “I agree. And while you are alive, Primus, it’s plain that you have been injured seriously. Prolonging the meeting beyond what is required seems unwise.”
“Very well,” Wei said cautiously. “As two members have asked for a vote, let us proceed. As they are my own proposals, naturally they have my support.”
Both Tiger Lily and Gwyn Thorne raised their hands.
Andrew Norris shrugged. “I don’t see that it helps much, but I don’t see any reason not to do this.”
“As long as this isn’t going to lead to the addition of Precentors from Circinus or Oberon,” Murphy grumbled. “We don’t need those pirates represented.”
“Enemies of all mankind,” Wei assured him, “Are not welcome.” And let’s not mention that ComStar had spent a small fortune propping up pirates back around the turn of the century. If she had the least say in it, ComStar would devote its excessive military resources to crush piracy in the future. “Perhaps if they show that they have reformed, but I would need to be convinced. I’m certainly not going to be adding representation of the Marian’s HPGs in the foreseeable future.”
Precentor Orchard, of Sian, raised her hand quietly and all eyes turned to Buckley.
The man huffed. “In the interests of unity,” he said pompously, “Let us make the decision unanimous.”
“Then the motion passes,” Wei confirmed. “Very well. The second part of my proposal…”
There was a ripple of concern. “The second part?” asked Norris.
“Yes, thus my surprise when I was asked for an immediate vote. I suppose that now we will need the expanded membership,” she concluded.
Buckley shook his head. “What exactly are you suggesting?”
Wei tapped a control and lines carved across the Inner Sphere. “Based on the original twelve sector model, I propose dividing the HPG network into seventy-two distinct regions, each centered upon a significant HPG station - those of the First Circuit members being included - which will take over logistics and training roles from the current state-wide administration. This would free the Precentor Advocates to focus more upon the political and social -”
The looks on the faces of the six Precentor-Advocates made it clear that this was a much less welcome idea. It was Buckley who interrupted her though. “Excuse me, Primus.” The Toyamist Precentor didn’t seem at all apologetic. “Before considering such a measure, which as you say would require our full membership, I have another matter that I think requires a vote.”
“Go on?” Wei invited.
“While we all understand there were unavoidable circumstances when you took office as Primus,” he declared, “That emergency has now passed. I am therefore calling for a proper election of a new Primus.”
-
whoo...Oh Dear me.
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When it rains it pours.
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Well, when it pours then it rains cats and dogs ... :o
Interesting choice for the Diamond Sharks though... Probably with the intent of letting the green birds smash their heads in on the Lyran half of the FedCom and insert themselves as a more ... "moderate" alternative - especially willing to trade with new customers? ::) 8)
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Based off the Wolf Dragoon reports, I thought they had reported the DCMS as the "Most honorable" and strongest to fight against, where as the Lyrans were "Money Merchants" and a roll over. The Fed Com did not exist when the last Report from the Dragoons was made, so the Taurans and the Davions which the Dragoons may have reported as the strongest to possible fight against would not have been located in the Invasion Lanes.
So based on the Dragoon reports, wouldn't the Clans see the DCMS as the most preferred attack Lane?
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Well, when it pours then it rains cats and dogs ... :o
Interesting choice for the Diamond Sharks though... Probably with the intent of letting the green birds smash their heads in on the Lyran half of the FedCom and insert themselves as a more ... "moderate" alternative - especially willing to trade with new customers? ::) 8)
That one salvo then withdrawing reminds me of something from the Age of Sail. I think they called it "for the honor of the flag". Basically an overmatched ship would fire one salvo before running away if it could, or surrendering if they could not. Generally fired from the broadside facing away from the enemy.
Then they could say they didn't retreat or surrender 'without a fight'.
Now to see who gets the final invasion slot. If it is the Jaguars? Sandwiched between the Wolves and Sharks might find the FRR acting like Germany late in WWII. Fighting the Russians ferociously so more of the country could surrender to American and British soldiers.
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Yeah, but Showers was also using data from the Outbound Light and her crew, which is far more up to date.
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Surprises on BOTH fronts! :o
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Based off the Wolf Dragoon reports, I thought they had reported the DCMS as the "Most honorable" and strongest to fight against, where as the Lyrans were "Money Merchants" and a roll over. The Fed Com did not exist when the last Report from the Dragoons was made, so the Taurans and the Davions which the Dragoons may have reported as the strongest to possible fight against would not have been located in the Invasion Lanes.
So based on the Dragoon reports, wouldn't the Clans see the DCMS as the most preferred attack Lane?
Yes, if the Clans were just working off of the Dragoons' reports. But they're not. The Clans also get some information from Deep Periphery traders, and they got a lot from the information on the Outbound Light's databases as well as from the chemical interrogations of the crew. That, at a minimum, would tell them about the FedCom Accords, marriage of Melissa Steiner and Hanse Davion, and outcome of the 4SW.
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We don't know what information Showers shared with other clans, sources only mention that it was carefully moderated. Creation of the FedCom was surely part of it, as he tried to portray the arrival of Outbound light as clear and present danger, other than that - he sure tried to have his clan every possible advantage.
With the final trial, makes you wonder if the conceding was done with Hawker's approval or without it. His performance in the most important trials in decade earned Labov a lot of political capital, while it is unlikely he will become saKhan, due to being only a cluster commander, a galaxy command is almost a certainty.
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I would wait and see how the politics plays out first. Ian is not in a good place and knifes might come out. They are invading the sphere and most of his clan hates him. Will be interesting to see how Wei deals with this clumsy coup attempt as well. She is proving to be a effective and dynamic leader and if they were going to replace her they should have tried something already. By waiting this long she is the defacto seated Primus.
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That one salvo then withdrawing reminds me of something from the Age of Sail. I think they called it "for the honor of the flag". Basically an overmatched ship would fire one salvo before running away if it could, or surrendering if they could not. Generally fired from the broadside facing away from the enemy.
Then they could say they didn't retreat or surrender 'without a fight'.
Now to see who gets the final invasion slot. If it is the Jaguars? Sandwiched between the Wolves and Sharks might find the FRR acting like Germany late in WWII. Fighting the Russians ferociously so more of the country could surrender to American and British soldiers.
I think what the Sharks are doing is part of an even older tradition called "not paying more than you have to". They are merchants in addition to warriors, after all. They got what they wanted, one of the two prime slots of the invasion, and gutted half of their best frontline cluster for it. Why throw away the rest of that half of the cluster, including the two best officers of their touman, just for the right to pick which of the two prime spots they get? They are going to need every warrior they have for the invasion, especially every one as good as those in Labov´s cluster.
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Especially since they will need to increase their touman to be able to both sustain the invasion and protect their clanspace holdings. They will need a lot of PGCs, which would mean a lot more freebirths in their ranks, something I see Ian Hawker being rather inflexible about.
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Especially since they will need to increase their touman to be able to both sustain the invasion and protect their clanspace holdings. They will need a lot of PGCs, which would mean a lot more freebirths in their ranks, something I see Ian Hawker being rather inflexible about.
If Ian Hawker is stupid in a good way, he will challenge Angus Labov and/or Ace Enders to a Trial of Grievance over conceding the placement trial, get utterly trounced and hopefully killed in the process, thus making way for a more capable leader (i.e. Angus Labov) for his clan.
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Nice guest appearance from the Jade Phoenix!
I enjoyed the books both years ago, and more recently. It is good to have him appear in fan fiction.
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So either the Ghost Bears or the Smoke Jaguars are out compared to the original version of the invasion. I can see the Diamond Sharks doing better perhaps than the original invasion corridors due to them being more likely to bring more supplies and support. I can also see the Smoke Jaguars doing much worse than the original due to cutting their margins even more to scrap in as the 4th slot or begin a civil war among the home clans as they rage amok due to not earning a slot and trying to take it out on invading clan holdings, Goliath Scorpions, and others.
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Drakensis posted the final trial results over on Spacebattles. The Smokied Kitties squeeked out the final spot, getting the Gamma corridor that went to the Ghost Bears in canon. The Sharks as stated got the Jaguar's canon invasion corridor. The Goliath Scropians and Ghost Bears tied at 10 points, with the Bears getting the tie breaker for winning the trial where the two went head to head.
So the Bears are the sole Reserve Clan. No sign, yet, if any of the remaining three Clans in this final round will stage something like the canon Trial of Refusal for first dibs if more reserves are needed.
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So either they go in with just one reserve or they have a whole extra round taking up more time and wasting more resources to get a second reserve lined up. Ghost Bears did well in the original invasion though the Jaguars in the same corridor might be interesting. The Sharks versus the Kuritans should be interesting. I can see them building up to defend the worlds they take, then smashing the reckless counterattacks by the DCMS before then moving on against the weakened enemy.
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Hmm... canonically, there were two reserve clans, with Ian Hawker winning a Trial of Refusal to make the Diamond Sharks the third.
I wonder why there´s only one reserve clan here.
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Hmm... canonically, there were two reserve clans, with Ian Hawker winning a Trial of Refusal to make the Diamond Sharks the third.
I wonder why there´s only one reserve clan here.
The Sarna.net writeup says there was only one Reserve Clan in the initial plan, and the Steel Vipers won that spot. Both the Nova Cats and the Diamond Sharks had to fight Trials of Refusal to get the right to be called up next if more reserves were needed.
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So the Bears are the sole Reserve Clan. No sign, yet, if any of the remaining three Clans in this final round will stage something like the canon Trial of Refusal for first dibs if more reserves are needed.
Logically reserve status should be in order of points and who lost to who but thats logic which is always in short supply with clanners. A more interesting question is how badly is the invasion going to go once the jaguars start running into their supply issues and start trying to trial of the sharks who are probably pushing far ahead.
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[speculation hat]
The Sharks are going to have a hard time in the Combine. The reason isn't the same reason that the Jags did (unrealistic expectations and a stupid level of aggression), it's going to be because of the Draconis Combine.
y'see, the Jags are perfectly okay with mass murder as a tactic, and tend to adore anyone who sticks around past the point of sanity fighting. It gets them excited in the same way a kid gets excited finding mom's lingerie catalogue while the parents are away.
The Sharks are deal-makers. They're not psychotic enough to get off on brutally crushing resistance, and with a culture LIKE the Combine, that's who you have to be to get anywhere against them.
in the canon, there wasn't a better, more perfect match than Smoke Jaguar versus Draconis Combine. the two were practically MADE for each other like a divinely inspired pairing if the divinity in question likes brutal, long-and-drawn-out murderfests of hatred and slaughter.
The sharks though? that's putting a reasonable man up against someone psychotic...only it's the Clanner being the reasonable one, and the Combine being the psychotic.
Hawker might be the only saving grace their campaign gets. (well, that, and our hero, but heroes are individual events, wars tend to be collective.)
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At the same time what made things so bad for the jaguars was they played to the gajin honorless monster stereotype. You cant make a deal with a jaguar its kill or be killed. You can do nothing wrong and they will shoot you because one of them is annoyed or some ****** a block over pissed them off and now they are leveling everything as a example. The Sharks are all about deals and will want to uplift and improve their new holdings. A lot of common people lives might actually be notably improved. By and large when the jaguars were pushed out the people celebrated and collaborators where killed but the Combine might have a far harder time retaking worlds if the locals actually prefer the Sharks and dont want to lose what they have gained going back under the dragon.
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I think Blade4 is on to something here. The combination of Draconis Combine rulership and Diamond Shark merchant caste acumen may be the only possible way for an Inner Sphere planet's economy and standard of living to improve after Clan conquest.
Hey, does anyone else smell burning catgirl?
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The Sharks are deal-makers. They're not psychotic enough to get off on brutally crushing resistance, and with a culture LIKE the Combine, that's who you have to be to get anywhere against them.
I'm not sure that's quite right (though ultimately it depends on how Drakensis wants to portray the Shark way of war). In FM:WC this is how Shark tactical doctrine is summarized:
Once battle is joined, the Diamond Sharks attempt to locate any weakness and exploit it to the fullest. Terrifying and relentless, they fight like their namesake. They consider zellbrigen a guideline for combat, not an absolute, unless an enemy officer invokes the right to challenge and singles out his Diamond Shark opposite. The Sharks do not consider such tactics as sending out Elementals to assault an enemy supply cache or calling in aerospace assets on a bombing run against a hardened position to be violations of the Clan Way. The former situation promotes victory with less material waste by reducing the enemy's ability to inflict damage. The latter reflects the Diamond Shark attitude that any tactical or strategic asset is a viable target. If enemy machines take advantage of a fortified position, they have essentially bid those defenses into the order of battle, and so an aerospace assault is merely the Diamond Shark counterbid.
Sure seems like the Sharks are unafraid to be absolutely vicious if the need calls for it.
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They will be substantially less likely to fall for the Wolcott trick than the Smoking Jaguars were.
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In short: the Sharks are FAR more likely to turn some locals to their cause... 8)
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I wonder how the Smoke Jaguars barely scrapping into the Invasion, and having to accept the final interior spot to do so, damages Leo Shower's power as IlKhan? I suspect he will not be able to make as many high handed moves as canon.
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It could be quite interesting to see how many of the Yakuza bosses see the type of deals they can make with the Sharks, especially if they see the DCMS taking heavy losses while the Sharks are improving the everyday life of the average civilian .... They start getting information, supplies, and all sorts of support from the yakuza and it gets interesting, with perhaps some free birth units recruiting from them a la Kuritan Ghost Regiments.
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I'm content to wait for Drakensis to play that out for us... ^-^
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Well if the Sharks are going to play Merchant, the Innersphere needs a Merchant Queen nay Goddess to handle them.
Melissa knowing what she will know with Hanse should be of the opinion as a character by the name of Crap Game said about a gold heist in a late 20th century movie 'a deals a deal, business is business'. She will know what they want, how to package it, sell it, make them feel like they got value added and then play these want to be merchants like a fiddle! Thank you.
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I wonder how the Smoke Jaguars barely scrapping into the Invasion, and having to accept the final interior spot to do so, damages Leo Shower's power as IlKhan? I suspect he will not be able to make as many high handed moves as canon.
As long as he and his jaguars can throw weight around he has power but he will probably get some snickering. Though it reflects worse on the Jaguar khans and the cluster that fought they did so poorly. How well or badly they do in the actual invasion well say a lot to and seeing how they are invading Rasalhague the land of the insurgents things are probably going to get very ugly very quickly. Jaguars might get censured or worse as they get bogged down and their tantrums just harden resolve.
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The Diamond Sharks could easily bring in their entire civilian population and employ them in logistics, garrison, and cardra for PGC's and roll over the majority of the DC and lay down factories to employ many of the DC citizens taken. If the Sharks take Latherin, then they will capture Omi, who can then be the guiding light for the captured DC citizens.
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It could be quite interesting to see how many of the Yakuza bosses see the type of deals they can make with the Sharks, especially if they see the DCMS taking heavy losses while the Sharks are improving the everyday life of the average civilian .... They start getting information, supplies, and all sorts of support from the yakuza and it gets interesting, with perhaps some free birth units recruiting from them a la Kuritan Ghost Regiments.
I always wanted to write something along those lines, but using the Burrocks and their more open attitude towards non-traditional business ventures. The Sharks... I don't see dealing with Dark Caste favorably.
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Sure seems like the Sharks are unafraid to be absolutely vicious if the need calls for it.
And, unlike the Jaguars, they are also unafraid to not be vicious if the need calls for that. In other words, they´ll offer the carrot and the stick, where the Jaguars offer the stick and the bigger stick.
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The Diamond Sharks could easily bring in their entire civilian population
Not... easily... no.
That's rather a lot of people.
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Not... easily... no.
That's rather a lot of people.
Besides, one thing the Inner Sphere has no shortage of is civilian population.
And once Ian Hawker gets the boot (or the bullet), the Diamond Sharks will go back to treating their lower castes (including newly conquered IS populations) a lot better than other clans, potentially also better than the Draconis Combine.
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Not... easily... no.
That's rather a lot of people.
It may be a lot of people if you're trying to transport them but compared to the Successor States it's just a drop in the bucket.
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It may be a lot of people if you're trying to transport them but compared to the Successor States it's just a drop in the bucket.
But transporting them is the only thing here that´s relevant.
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But transporting them is the only thing here that´s relevant.
But once they get to the IS do they spread them out to try & supervise their conquests which leaves them vastly outnumbered or just keep them concentrated on a few of the more valuable ones?
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But once they get to the IS do they spread them out to try & supervise their conquests which leaves them vastly outnumbered or just keep them concentrated on a few of the more valuable ones?
Still irrelevant to the question.
They CANNOT easily do this. Look at how the evacuation of Clan Nova Cat, or Clan Diamond Shark, went in canon - or even what a laborious process it was for the Ghost Bears to slowly, bit by bit, relocate their civilian population to the Inner Sphere.
"Easily" is not going to happen.
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I think Drakensis put a stake in that one... I'm pretty sure it's not on the cards.
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I think Drakensis put a stake in that one... I'm pretty sure it's not on the cards.
Sure, and given the Shark monopoly on Harjel production back in the Kerensky Cluster (which has got to be *terrifyingly* lucrative), barring other finds in the IS it's not even clear that the Sharks would *want* to totally relocate to the IS.
What the Sharks clearly do have the lift and transport capacity to do, however, is relocate key portions of their military production to IS worlds (or the tooling and equipment necessary to set up such clantech military production from scratch). Given their attention to logistics and material prosperity, they're also more likely than the average clan to see the benefits of doing so. That means either (1) a much stronger and more resilient Shark touman in the OZ than their peer clans, or (b) a big bonanza of ClanTech to the Draconis Combine when they reconquer the invasion corridor.
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Opalescent Reflections
Dealer’s Choice
Chapter 8
Hilton Head, North America
Terra, Sol System
15 January 3049
“While we all understand there were unavoidable circumstances when you took office as Primus,” he declared, “That emergency has now passed. I am therefore calling for a proper election of a new Primus.”
Could your ambition be more naked? Wei wondered.
Before she could reply, another voice spoke up. “I will second that motion.”
Wei turned her head sharply, seeing that it was Tiger Lily who had spoken. You too? Are you backing Buckley… no, you have your own eye on the position of Primus.
“Of course,” Precentor Atreus continued, with an easy smile that reminded the Primus of the feline predator that the other woman was named for. “Primus Rong continuing in the role should be one of the options presented for consideration.”
Perhaps I should just step aside, Wei thought. It wasn’t as if I ever wanted to be Primus. Isn’t this a way out?
But as she looked at the circling wolves, she suspected that retirement wouldn’t be an easy out. Buckley might well see her the same way Waterly had. And Tiger Lily’s paranoia about attacks on Terra…
I’m no worse off if I lose, she realized.
“Under ComStar regulation, the removal of a Primus requires a unanimous vote of the First Circuit,” she reminded them. “Does anyone object to the proposed measure?”
Joe Murphy and Andrew Norris gave her questioning looks but neither spoke up. The other Precentors all nodded. Gwyn Thorne even went as far as saying: “I assent.”
“Very well.” Wei tapped her podium. “Inform the Precentors on list Beta that their presence is required for a meeting of the First Circuit, beginning in thirty minutes.”
“Thirty minutes!” exclaimed Tiger Lily.
“Of course.” Wei gave the older woman a slight nod. “Why wait? Leaving the Order without a clear leader would be a risk, particularly as we’re dealing with a conspiracy to subvert us to serve the interests of the Draconis Combine. Better to choose a leader now so that if I’m not affirmed as the Primus I can begin an orderly handover of authority.”
“You’re talking about people on the far edges of the Inner Sphere.”
“We are ComStar,” Wei answered Buckley. “Communications is our business. Do you imagine that I proposed that they join the First Circuit without considering the possible complications? A live HPG chat connecting Terra with the capitals of the territorial states was within the reach of the Star League. It is not beyond us now.”
And then she smiled at them. “So, while we wait. I’ve been nominated already, would any of you like to put yourselves forward as candidates?”
Buckley spent most of the thirty minutes justifying putting himself forwards as the ‘natural successor’ to Myndo Waterly’s legacy. As he spoke, more men and women in the robes of Precentors appeared like ghosts around the chamber, their holographic images transmitting them from worlds as near as New Earth and as far as Alpheratz - the latter more than five hundred years distant.
Myndo Waterly would likely have greeted them with distant and stately salutations, but Wei would have looked ridiculous trying to be so dignified so she instead offered them warm and welcoming smiles. She brought her sleeves together, letting her reach up her sleeve to scratch at the cast - as if that would help the flesh beneath it.
“Thank you, Precentor,” she told the man once all sixteen additional Precentors had arrived. “Your candidacy has been logged. Does anyone else wish to put their name forward?”
“I will be brief,” Tiger Lily spoke up.
(There was a quiet “Thank Blake” from the direction of Precentor Tharkad).
“I am the most experienced Precentor currently on the First Circuit, including those who have just joined our number,” she continued. “Wei Rong has done well by the Blessed Order, but she came to power in turmoil - not of her making - and her reign so far has not brought stability, but more turmoil. She has my thanks, but I believe she is not the best choice to lead us in the future.”
Not the worst argument - and brevity would win her points. “Your candidacy has been logged,” Wei repeated.
To her surprise, there was one more.
“I nominate myself,” Gwyn Thorne said quietly. “I disapprove of the direction that Myndo Waterly has led ComStar. We are a neutral order, committed to peace - the expanded ComGuards and hostile relations with governments of the Inner Sphere are not policies I approve of. I recognise that our current Primus has chosen not to continue those policies, but more must be done to bring us back onto the correct path.”
Was that genuine sincerity or the seeds of ambitions? Wei was unsure. Nonetheless, she logged the fourth candidate. “Does anyone else wish to step forwards?”
After a moment of silence, she nodded. “Very well. As there are multiple candidates, we will operate by an exhaustive ballot. If no one secures at least fifty percent of the vote, that is to say twelve or more votes, then the candidate with the lowest votes will be eliminated and we vote again.”
“I’m not entirely familiar with the process,” Murphy admitted. “What if there’s a tie for last place?”
“Then both are eliminated,” Wei said briskly. “If anyone else has questions, please ask now or wait until after we’ve completed a round of voting.”
“What, right away?” exclaimed Buckley. “Most of them didn’t hear my nomination speech!”
“I think we heard enough,” murmured Precentor St Ives. The tiny duchy of St Ives was currently administered by ComStar under the oversight of Precentor New Avalon so she knew Buckley fairly well. “Let’s continue.”
“Should we really have one of the candidates counting the votes?” he complained.
“It will be a show of hands,” Tiger Lily said irritably. “Surely everyone here can count to twenty-three? Without taking their shoes off, I mean.”
“Let’s not begin this with insults.” Wei warned. “Votes will be public, but we can easily make them electronic.” She manipulated the podium with two years of practice. “There we go. Please cast your votes.”
“Can we abstain?” someone asked.
“Which part of ask now or wait until after the votes are cast didn’t you understand?” asked Andrew Norris. “Vote or be known as a ditherer.”
All twenty-three votes were cast. Perhaps whoever had asked the question didn’t want to be identified. Wei set her podium to provide her a simple count of votes at first. She was surprised, and gratified, to see that she received a number of votes - all four candidates received a fairly similar number of votes at first but the last few votes cast were all for her… and with so few voters, that was enough to lift her well above the other three.
I must have been doing something right, she thought. “Nine votes for Wei Rong, five each for Joe Buckley and Tiger Lily. Which leaves four for you, Gwyn.” She had already been considering who to recommend her supporters shift their backing to, but if she was doing this well… Why not see how far this went?
Precentor Rasalhague nodded with no sign of surprise. Perhaps she had only been making a political statement. Four votes did suggest that her pacifist beliefs had a notable following on the First Circuit, and presumably in the Order as a whole. Wei noted the names of Thorne’s supporters and wondered who they would throw their support to.
“No majority for anyone,” Joe Buckley said tersely. He’d perhaps expected more support. Myndo Waterly had been unchallenged for a decade and a half, which should suggest a strong backing for her religious position. It seemed that the bloc wasn’t as solid as he’d believed… perhaps as a result of the revelation about Sharilar Mori’s duplicity.
“Indeed,” Wei agreed and adjusted the voting options. “We go again.”
“Immediately?”
“Do you have any idea how expensive this conference is?” She set up another command and a number began scrolling upwards in the corner of her screen. “That number should give you an idea: it’s the cost. I’d like to have this done before it hits nine figures.”
“You are the one who insisted on holding this vote right away,” protested Buckley.
“Waiting months for shipping would cost us much more,” Wei told him. “Last chance for questions.”
This time no one spoke up and Wei cast her vote first - for herself, of course. Precentor after Precentor selected their choice for Primus. She saw Gwyn’s supporters vote, not for her but Tiger Lily. That wouldn’t give her the needed fifty percent but it was a shift of…
Wait… That wasn’t what she’d expected. Two of Tiger Lily’s previous supporters had shifted their support to Buckley. Had they cut some hasty deal? Private side-channels were possible.
Another name she hadn’t expected appeared in Wei’s own column, someone she had expected to vote for Buckley but had instead voted for Tiger Lily in the first round. But now they’d shifted to her instead.
“Once again, there is no clear majority,” she said slowly. “I have eleven votes, compared to seven for Precentor Buckley. You would appear to have five votes, Tiger Lily.” And only two had been voting for her last time. That strongly indicated that her power bloc was collapsing, with those who’d shifted to back her from Gwyn Thorne perhaps regretting that decision now.
The abandoned candidate closed her eyes for a moment in resignation. “Yes. Thank you for your consideration.”
And then there were two. Wei met Joe Buckley’s eyes and felt her expression tighten. If Tiger Lily or Gwyn Thorne had survived this far she might have stepped back… but not against Buckley or his ilk.
“One more vote,” she said quietly. “Cast them, please.” She tapped her controls, not taking her eyes off her adversary.
The wait for the subtle ping that told her all votes were in seemed to go on forever. But it came in the end.
Both she and Buckley looked down at the results at the same time. Wei would have to check the recording of the meeting later to see his face as he realized he had only six votes. Not only had every one of Tiger Lily’s supporters sided with her, one of Buckley’s existing votes had deserted to her as well.
“I suppose…” he said slowly, “I must congratulate you. Primus.” The last word sounded almost physically painful for him to utter.
“Now then,” she added sweetly. “About those administrative reforms…”
Novy Terra, Strana Mechty
Kerensky Cluster, Clan Homeworlds
28 February 3049
Ace didn’t particularly consider the office used by the commander of the Twenty-First Assault Cluster to be his territory, but it was definitely disconcerting to enter and find someone already behind the desk.
“Ace Enders, quiaff?”
“Aff…” he concurred. And then, realizing where he had seen her before, he added: “My khan.”
Barbara Sennet, the newly elected replacement to Kaija Horn, steepled her fingers. “You know why I am here, quiaff?”
“Neg,” he admitted. And then, before she could rip him up (verbally), he added: “There are several possibilities.”
“List them,” she commanded, looking intrigued.
Ace hid a sigh. “My recent Trial of Position for command of the Twenty-First. The medical condition of Star Colonel Steven Hawker. The readiness of the Twenty-First to participate in Operation Revival. Some of these matters.” He paused. “Or all of them.”
“Most of them,” she clarified and then gestured for him to sit. “Angus Labov is an old friend and comrade… but I must work with Ian Hawker.”
He took the guest seat, one he’d used more often than the one behind the desk.
“Nothing to say?”
“You did not ask a question, Khan Sennet. I admire Angus Labov, but I must serve Ian Hawker.”
The dark-skinned Khan laughed sharply. “You have a unique view of serving him. His orders were for your transfer to Beta Galaxy, now that Angus has retired and can no longer insist on your place here. Oh, and that Steven Hawker was to command the Twenty-First Assault Cluster. And yet… here we are.”
“Aff.”
“Khan Hawker commands Alpha Galaxy. He is within his right to give these orders, quiaff?”
“Aff,” Ace agreed. “However, trial by combat is the way of the Clans, quiaff?”
Sennet nodded. “Whatever Ian Hawker wants, his protege will not be serving in Operation Revival. It will be a full year before he can walk again, much less fight. Steven Hawker is lucky to still have a career. And you…” She shrugged.
“I fought for the position of Star Colonel of the Twenty-First Assault Cluster,” he reminded her. “And I won.”
Sennet nodded. “The Diamond Shark must not stop moving, or it will die,” she quoted. “But where it moves is always the question. Khan Hawker wants us to move in a certain direction and there are those on the Clan Council who think differently. Angus Labov was one of them. His decision not to contend with the Jade Falcons for the first choice of invasion corridor was controversial. It he had not retired, it could have unseated the Khan… or smashed the faction opposed to him. Either way, a costly outcome.”
“I understand.”
“Do you?” the saKhan asked. “By assigning me to handle this, a matter in his Galaxy not in mine, Hawker is telling me to pick a side.”
Ace smiled slightly. “For you to become saKhan, I think you must have already chosen a side.”
“Aff,” she conceded. “I am on the side of Clan Diamond Shark. I will choose whatever serves my Clan best. If that means breaking you, I will do that. And I am not so easily goaded as the previous Star Colonel to use this office. Here is your chance to show me that you are more of an asset than a liability.”
He leaned forwards. “You said yourself that Steven Hawker was easily goaded. More than a few of my victories have begun with convincing my opponents to follow me into favorable terrain.”
“Is that how you defeated him?” she asked with clinical curiosity.
“Aff.” He saw that she wanted more details and added. “I stood here and told him he was unfit to lead a Cluster, because all he knew was how to say ‘Yes, my Khan’ whenever Ian Hawker farted. Then I told him I would take the Cluster from him.”
“And he just let you?”
“In a manner of speaking. The Star Colonel accepted my challenge and informed me that we would fight unaugmented. That was when I invited him to step into the ‘mech hangar.”
“And threw him off a gantry.” Her lips quirked.
Ace shook his head. “If I had tried that, the chances are good that I would have been the one taking a fall. I kicked him into a rail that I knew was unsafe.”
“And you knew this because…?”
“I am sure your investigation has already determined that the last thing I did before entering this office to issue my challenge was to order all the techs off the gantry until a safety check was done. It is on the route I took to reach here.” The administrative offices weren’t in the same building as the mech hangar, but a modest bridge linked the two structures, allowing the officers working here to get to and from the upper gantry inside the hangar with ease.
And like any ‘mech hangar, there was a nine meter drop from the gantry to the concrete floor below.
“Yes,” she agreed. “But how exactly did you know that the rail was not securely pinned in place? Few warriors I know of pay close attention to such details.”
“That would be their error,” Ace pointed out. “It was certainly Steven Hawker’s.”
Sennet shook her head in dismissal. “You removed the pins yourself,” she accused. “We both know it.”
“I did,” he agreed and waited to see if she was going to accuse him of attempted murder.
“Steven Hawker being a fool, fighting you on ground that you had prepared does not make you worthy,” she pointed out. “Why should I consider you better? Ian Hawker claims that your transfer to Beta Galaxy was to give you the chance to learn better than tactics that cost us the bulk of the forces bid on both occasions you took the field during the Revival trials. A cost we can hardly afford when we are fighting a war six months away from the homeworlds. And your preferred ‘mech is hardly ideal for an Assault Cluster.”
“If my piloting a Stormcrow is so ill-fitted then why did I manage to walk away from both of those Trials?” he asked. “In both cases, our bidding put us at a disadvantage. The Star Adders had at least out-thought us - just as their bidding was probably the most intelligent of any of the Clans. The Steel Vipers were simply lucky with the weather, and that was almost enough to defeat us.”
“It is no secret that you are a skilled mechwarrior,” the saKhan told him dismissively. “The secret is that it takes more than that to rise within a Clan.”
Alright, if that was how she wanted to play it. “Khan Sennet, have you considered that to conquer the Inner Sphere - even just the hundred or so worlds in the invasion corridor, the Clan will require prominent freeborn warriors?”
For the first time, she hesitated. “Interesting, why do you believe that?”
“For the first part, from what we know of the Inner Sphere, their warriors make up a social elite. The details vary from the Clans, but when the Founder put the warrior caste at the head of the Clans he was formalizing what was already the power structure. Now, what happened to the warriors who were defeated by the Clans during the return to the Pentagon worlds?”
“They were taken as bondsmen,” she answered immediately. “Filling out the lower castes of the Clans or… ah, I believe I see where you are going. After time as bondsmen, many joined the toumans, building them up beyond the original eight hundred warriors and fighting alongside the first generation of trueborn warriors.”
Ace nodded. “Exactly. They joined the Clans, because the Way of the Clans provided them a vision of a better way of life and one that welcomed them. Those who accepted the Clans were made welcome and allowed - encouraged - to aspire to advance within the Clans. If they could surpass those who had been on Strana Mechty they could join any caste, even the highest.”
“But they could not win bloodnames, as you did.”
“Even though the Wolf Dragoons provided no reports of their service to the Draconis Combine,” he pointed out, “What they did report matches the other Successor States. The nobility are a tiny fraction of their warriors. For the overwhelming majority of the people on the worlds we need to conquer, becoming a warrior is as high as they could realistically hope for. And if we tell those with martial aspirations that they cannot hope for that under our rule, the way that the Smoke Jaguars or Steel Vipers will? Do you think that they will accept that, or will they look for other routes to pursue their ambitions.”
Sennet shook her head. “You are talking about uprisings and rebellions. We have ways of dealing with those.”
“That’s half of the problem, and it will probably be harder than most us assume. The tactics we employ here are based on being able to rapidly move a relatively small military force around a compact region. Nowhere in the Kerensky Cluster is more than a few jumps away from Strana Mechty. But the Inner Sphere has an average radius of five hundred light years, seventeen jumps at best. If our frontline forces are fighting towards Terra and there is a rebellion on Albiero, it will take months to respond. Omega Galaxy will provide a reserve, but that is only four Clusters. How many uprisings can they respond to - and how many counterattacks? We will have a very very long open flank. The Draconis Combine will not simply accept a corridor being carved through their space.”
“You do remind me of Angus,” she said after a moment’s thought. “Not in your points, but in how you make them. Is that the other half of the problem? The Draconis Combine.”
“Yes, and the solution I see is held within the first half. We need more warriors - more infantry, more armored forces, more police-warriors. We need enough of them to secure scores of worlds against uprisings and to fight back against counterattacks until reserves can be deployed. And we have a source - but only if we show that they have a future in Clan Diamond Shark that they want to grasp hold of.”
“The way you did.” Sennet nodded. “You argue then that whatever your competence, that we need you as a visible freeborn officer to enable recruitment from worlds we liberate from the Draconis Combine.”
Ace shook his head. “No, if I am incompetent then you should remove me. But we both know my combat record is as good as that of any warrior my age. And you’re at my desk, with my workstation unlocked. Judge for yourself whether I am providing poor leadership.”
Sennet leaned back and looked at him. “You are confident in yourself, quiaff?”
“I take calculated risks. And I am very good at math. Not perfect, but very very good.”
“So am I,” she told him. “And I will take a risk here. Tell me, Star Colonel, where do you stand on the Invasion? Are you a Warden or a Crusader?”
“Does it matter? The decision is made and the Wardens lost,” Ace pointed out. “We are returning to the Inner Sphere and doing so as conquerors. There remain divides among the Clans and they will doubtless continue, but the core issue that those rivalries hinge upon will shift to something new. Perhaps between those participating in Operation Revival and those who do not - or those who succeed and those who fail.”
“The division between Warden and Crusader is more complicated than one issue,” the Khan told him.
“I’m not saying that there are no other issues, but - for one example: from what I can tell, the Steel Vipers and Smoke Jaguars agree on more issues than they disagree on. Without the invasion question to put them in opposing voting blocs, I would not be surprised to see them as allies, however uneasy, on a number of matters.”
He could almost see the wheels turning behind Barbara Sennet’s eyes. “You took a Steel Viper as a bondsman,” she said at last. “I will be interested to see how he turns out with you teaching him to be a Diamond Shark.”
“I am learning some things from Michel as well.”
“In my experience, becoming an instructor does that. Clan Steel Viper and Clan Nova Cat have both won trials of refusal to be granted additional reserve status, so we may have to work with the Vipers in the future. If that happens, there are likely to be problems. Brett Andrews was popular within their ranks. Consider how to deal with that.”
Ace nodded. “I will. How are the Goliath Scorpions taking the two Clans surpassed joining the invasion when they cannot.”
“Through clenched teeth,” Sennet admitted. “Their display against the Smoke Jaguars won them the match but cost them a great deal of goodwill. I doubt there will be any rapprochement between those two Clans in the future. They came very close to knocking the Smoke Jaguars out of participation entirely and that is not a slight that will be forgiven.” Then she shrugged. “I am sure our Khan would prefer no reserves be required at all, but if we do require one it would be better for us to recognise that and call on the Ghost Bears or the Nova Cats. And not just because of you.”
The Khan stood up, giving him back his desk. “Finish getting your Cluster back in shape, Star Colonel. We depart for the Inner Sphere in less than four months.”
-
Hilton Head, North America
Terra, Sol System
15 September 3049
“Alright,” Wei declared as she took the seat at the head of the intelligence committee’s meeting room. Today the four Precentors representing DRUM sat along the table on her left. To the right, the Precentors from New Earth and Talitha sat at the bottom of the table, with Precentor Martial Anastasius Focht separating them from Wei. “I don’t think any of us have the complete picture on this one, but between us I hope we can put it together into a coherent picture… and a plan. Sharon, please start us off.”
“Ah.” Sharon Four-Acre was a recent appointee to replace the previous head of her division - a technical specialist who had a superb record of understanding what Delta division could do. And more importantly, she knew what they could not do and was willing to admit it. That directness would have been a terrible liability as a Precentor-Advocate but with Delta’s new role she was a perfect fit. “The source of our information is a BattleROM, relayed back to Arc-Royal by the Kell Hounds mercenary unit from the Verthandi HPG station.”
“The Kell Hounds are close to House Steiner,” pointed out Precentor Talitha. “Could it be deliberate misinformation?”
“That’s extremely unlikely,” Dahlia Erin said. “The BattleROM was that of Phelan Kell, the son and heir of Morgan Kell’s titles if not necessarily of the Kell Hounds. He is very much not seen as expendable for such a ploy.”
“Justin Allard was similarly placed,” the other Precentor objected.
“We can come back to that,” Wei told them. “Please continue, Sharon.”
The young woman nodded in acceptance. “The data was transmitted from a WLF-1 Wolfhound, containing full battle data on the clash in which it was destroyed. It’s not clear if the mechwarrior was killed - he definitely ejected but the battle took place on The Rock, which is a middlingly hostile environment. BattleROM data is intentionally hard to fake, but not impossible. So far as we can tell, this hasn’t been tampered with but it’s possible one of the Federated Commonwealth’s data specialists has something new we haven’t encountered before.”
Wei looked further down the table at Elswick Cameron. “Do you concur?”
“Yes, Primus. It’s possible this is faked, but unlikely. If it were not for the contents I would be satisfied to discount that as a possibility.”
“I haven’t seen that yet,” admitted Precentor New Earth, apologetically.
“That’s fine, as I said - none of us have the full picture here,” she told him. “Let’s review it now - the key part only though, we don’t have all day.”
The cockpit data replayed on a holo display at the head of the table. While not a mechwarrior herself, Wei had watched some in the course of her historical studies. The timestamp was over a month ago - about right for the travel time between The Rock and Verthandi.
She watched as pirate ‘mechs fled directly into the teeth of the advancing Kell Hounds, so badly damaged that they were destroyed almost immediately. Wei would not weep for Redjack Ryan or Maria Morgraine, but it was clear that their forces stood no chance at all and would not have, even if the Kell Hounds hadn’t been there.
The real threat were the flat-grey ‘mechs pursuing the pirates, ‘mechs of types that Wei couldn’t identify. They clearly were Battlemechs, their fundamental technology was recognizable even to her, but even the experienced mechwarriors whose chatter was recorded knew what they were facing.
And then that chatter was cut by fear. "Blake's Blood! Did you see that, Phelan?" one of the warriors exclaimed as one bird-like ‘mech blew the legs out from under what Wei thought was a Panther.
Wei glanced at Precentor Focht, whose lips were pursed. His one eye was intent. Whatever had disturbed the mechwarriors was clearly evident to him.
Rather than ask right away, she waited and watched as a pirate Rifleman fell… and the intruders moved smoothly to firing on the Kell Hounds. A Blackjack tried to escape on its jump jets but flights of missiles tore into it, sending it spinning through the low gravity with both legs reduced to stumped. The face-first crash into the surface of the planet was clearly not survivable for the mechwarior within. And then the entire wreck exploded.
The mech whose viewpoint they shared cut to the side, avoiding lasers fired from the bird-like ‘mech. The mechwarrior adjusted his controls. “Trey, Kat, anybody. I hope like hell this makes it out. Get clear. This data is more important than getting killed to avenge either one of us."
Another feint, another miss by the enemy ‘mech. The Wolfhound had closed the range by half and it wove erratically, tricking the enemy into firing wide - one shot missing to the left and the other to the right.
With a wild laugh, the young mercenary opened up with his lasers, and unlike his enemy he hit home. Armor peeled away from the larger ‘mech… but only armor and the laugh ended. Clearly this was not his expectation.
And then the bird-like ‘mech fired again, both lasers impaling the Wolfhound through the chest. Warning lights went from green to crimson in an instant. The computer verbalized what was evidently being reported: “Reactor detonation inescapable. Eject, eject.”
The replay froze on the final instant, the predatory gray ‘mech standing like an executioner over the mercenary Wolfhound it had just dealt a mortal wound to.
“Precentor Martial,” Wei asked into the quiet of the room. “Have you ever seen a ‘mech like that.”
He shook his head slowly. “No. And while I am not conversant with all the advances made by the Star League, or even those that we retain within the ComGuards, I used to count myself a fair technician. If we were to reequip our ‘mechs in a similar fashion - that ‘mech has qualities in common with both a Catapult and a Marauder, so using them as a base…” He shook his head. “No, unless I am completely mistaken then we would have to compromise massively on speed, cooling systems or armor. Perhaps all three.”
“It’s an impossibility then?”
“If that evidence is not faked - and I see no reason Morgan Kell would sacrifice his own son for such a forgery - then we are seeing something real - but something beyond our own technological reach.” The white-haired solider shook his head again. “Those lasers struck at ranges beyond even that of a Star League extended range laser. And they were shooting with considerable precision - excellent mechwarriors.”
“That one needed four hits to strike the source of the recording,” pointed out Dahlia. She sounded more curious than questioning.
Focht looked across the table at the Precentor and then folded his hands. “That speaks better of young Kell than it does poorly of his opponent. The Federated Commonwealth did themselves a disservice in expelling him from the Nagelring. The last time I saw a light ‘mech handled so well, it was… well, none of you move in those circles. Trust me, he is excellent. If his ‘mech was comparable to his foe then he might well have won.”
Wei leant back. “And you have no idea as to their source?”
“None.” There was no hesitation in Focht’s voice. “It is derived from the same technological base we use, perhaps a development from SLDF technology. But someone has been building war machines very substantially more advanced than anything I have seen or even studied. More formidable than the ComGuards’ equipment. If it exists in any number then it constitutes a strategic threat - I imagine that every power in the Inner Sphere will want to obtain it for themselves. With some caution - none of them would want to be deceived as Maximilian Liao was in 3029. But if it is real then it would be a fantastic advantage once in mass production.”
Elswick Cameron leant forwards. “I believe I can shed some light on that.”
All eyes turned to Precentor Mu. “You have the floor,” Wei told him.
The dark-skinned head of DRUM’s analysis divisions took control of the display and switched it to the side of the bird-like battlemech, revealing an insignia on the flank of the rounded torso section. “We’ve been studying the data for a few days,” he explained. “One we cleaned this up…”
The image shimmered and was replaced at a better angle by the head of a snarling wolf, red and black, against a gold bar marked with five-pointed stars.
Wei stared at it for a moment and then shook her head. “Should that mean anything to me, Elswick?”
“Probably not,” he admitted. “In fact, if anyone did know about it then they should be getting some attention from Dahlia, because we only found one hit on that design in our entire archives.”
Wei started to nod and then paused. “Only one?” ComStar’s archives were the most extensive collection of data in the entire Inner Sphere, probably. It was remotely possible that the combined libraries that lay behind House Davion’s New Avalon Institute of Science were rivals in technical terms but that alone wouldn’t be enough to match the resources of an organization that recorded and decoded (eventually) every single message sent via their HPG messages, which accounted for more than 99% of all interstellar communications.
The majority of what was in those archives should be sorted, cross-referenced and therefore appearing multiple times.
“Only one,” he agreed. “And we are fortunate to have found it. The reference was flagged Primus Eyes Only, so if you hadn’t provided us with access for such searches, we wouldn’t have found it.”
“It can’t be in my own files.”
Cameron nodded. “I doubt any Primus has seen it for over a hundred years. The server the file was on had been sequestered by ROM during the reign of Primus Kurstin. The record was sealed by Primus Toyama in 2827. The context is… interesting. Perhaps even sphere-shaking.”
“Well spit it out, man,” Precentor New Earth demanded.
“This badge belongs to one of the factions to form out of Aleksandr Kerensky’s Exodus,” Cameron said, and then waited for that to sink in.
As half the room opened their mouths to explode, Wei raised her hand for silence. For a wonder, she got it. “As one troll to another, well played. Now… are you seriously telling me that Conrad Toyama knew where Kerensky went and didn’t tell anyone?!”
“Not where, precisely. Although I imagine the Explorer Corps would have appreciated some more guidance.”
Wei sighed. “Well, we all knew Toyama wasn’t an academic. He’d have been tarred and feathered for hiding data like that. Rather than speculate about why, what information do we have?”
Cameron drummed his fingers against the table. “It’s probably simplest to start with the source of the information. In 2826, ComStar made contact with a refugee convoy. Not especially unusual with conflicts picking up to what would become the Second Succession War. But this convoy was escorted by a badly damaged SLDF battleship - incidentally, that answers one question we’ve been asked by the ComGuards, Precentor Martial. I’m not sure it should be disclosed more widely, but it’s the same McKenna-class ship currently on the mothball rolls as CSS Blake’s Sword.”
“Why were they asking?” Focht looked perplexed.
“Trying to trace how we came by it, I believe. You did hand the ComGuards to a pair of naval historians, perhaps they have another book in mind to write.” Precentor Mu shrugged the matter aside. “In any case, the group claimed to be survivors of colonies founded by the Exodus Fleet, and to be fleeing a war that had engulfed the colonies. This Clan Wolf was one group that they sincerely feared would follow them all the way back to the Inner Sphere… or to the edge of the galaxy, if they had to. Of course, as we haven’t come across them in more than two centuries, that seems rather overstated.”
“Except now that we are seeing them.”
Wei nodded at Four-Acre’s point. “Quite so. What - according to these refugees - happened to the Exodus Fleet?”
Cameron looked over at her. “Much the same that happened to the rest of the Star League. At first, they were united in a common purpose, but as Kerensky led them deeper and deeper into the Periphery, cracks began to form. They were stamped down on, but even military discipline had its limits. Whether it was his original plan or because he knew his followers, Kerensky declared a halt when they found five star systems in close proximity that all had more or less habitable planets - marginal but within their ability to colonize.”
“A star cluster, like the Hyades?”
“No, but the systems were all within one jump of each other. Convenient for commerce and mutual support. A great deal of which was needed. Many of the settlers weren’t ideal as colonists - they were soldiers and scientists, relatively few of them familiar with farming or the other problems of establishing colonies even on benign worlds - and the Pentagon worlds, as they were called, were… less than ideal choices.”
The Precentor sighed and then continued. “The initial euphoria wore off, and then ships surveying a little more widely discovered several systems just a little further in the direction they’d been going that were considerably more promising. But by this point they’d already committed their limited resources to the Pentagon. Starting over again on these worlds - except with small outposts - wasn’t feasible. And even though it was to some extent at their demands that Kerensky had halted where he did, as the leader he bore the brunt of the dissatisfaction.”
Wei felt a moment of empathy for the embattled general turned colonist. “He would have been close to ninety years old?”
“He… soldiered on, if you’ll accept the pun, for another ten years,” Cameron continued. “And unfortunate he proved not entirely equal to the challenges posed. Resources were limited and neighboring settlements began to quarrel over them. Other settlements fell prey to sectarian violence between soldiers whose origins lay in rival states - states that they knew perfectly well were at war back here, even if the details were uncertain. Most had military training, and military equipment had been stockpiled in hundreds of places, many of them well known and accessible. Kerensky, after all, trusted the men and women who had followed him into the darkness. Too much, it seemed.”
“In 2800, rebellion broke out. A not insignificant number of the colonies established on a world called Eden rejected the authority of Kerensky’s government. A portion of those soldiers remaining under armed were deployed and suppressed the rebellion brutally, but they didn’t have it all their own way. Against veterans of the Amaris Civil War, it hardly could have been. Among the casualties was General Aaron DeChevilier. Kerensky’s deputy and natural successor.” Cameron spread his hands. “And probably his closest friend. Shortly thereafter, we don’t know the exact timescale but certainly before any other successor had been declared, Aleksandr Kerensky died suddenly. Natural causes, which seems entirely plausible. He had lived a hard life, and was no longer a young man.”
“I take it that rival successors sprang up like grass on a fertile field?” asked Wei.
“Exactly. Within weeks, rival claimants to his… I would say throne, but it seems highly unlikely he had anything so egotistical. Claimants to his office had opened up caches to arm their supporters. Warfare exploded across five worlds, with an intensity unmatched by even the Successor States.”
“I find that hard to believe,” Precentor Talitha challenged. “The Succession Wars have gone on for centuries, and were waged across more than a hundred times as many planets.”
“Yes, that is why I said intensity, not scale,” Cameron replied simply. “Obviously we have few details…”
“Blake’s mercy,” Wei whispered. “At least eighty percent of their adult population would have had military training, and the SLDF stockpiles would have been enough to arm every mother’s son. Not even the Draconis Combine could send so many of their people to war. The economy would never let them amass such a preponderance of arms.”
“Indeed,” Focht agreed. “But this war would not be waged with what they could build, they would have the supplies and equipment of… what was it, something like a third of the pre-Coup SLDF. More ‘mech regiments alone than the entire Inner Sphere can boast today, and with so many factions there could have been few safe refuges. It would have been apocalyptic - and shattered what infrastructure had been built up.”
Cameron looked at them with a certain degree of respect. “That is more or less the conclusion my own analysts came to. It took them a little longer though.”
“No one in this room was chosen at random,” Wei reminded him.
Focht cleared his throat and looked at her.
“There was nothing random about my choice not to get involved in that case of terminal political infighting.”
“And what would you have done if I hadn’t taken you into custody,” he asked, almost… playfully? Well, that was interesting.
“Stolen enough money for a really good plastic surgeon and a ticket to Kooken’s Pleasure Pit.” She looked around. “Not so very different in some ways from the refugees that you mentioned, Elswick. But I take it we’re some distance from the end of the tale since neither they nor this Clan Wolf have appeared so far.”
“Hmm. Yes,” the Precentor admitted. “Skipping over twenty years of warfare that really isn’t relevant, the war didn’t just affect the five principal colonies. There were, as I mentioned, several outposts located on more promising worlds and there were more resources available after over a decade of colonization work. They were hardscrabble worlds, but from the beginning of the fighting they were the goal of people wanting to get clear of the fighting. People who wanted a fresh start, away from the rivalries.”
“The refugees?” asked Focht.
“The Clans,” Cameron corrected. “A group like that is fertile soil for a demagogue, and they had one. He called himself Nicholas Kerensky and claimed to be the General’s natural-born son. It might even be true, although there’s no record of him that I can found outside this tale. He preached the idea of a new society, creating a new nation - or rather nations. Clans, that would operate as confederation - led in the broad strokes by a council and an appointed supreme leader, but for the most part governing themselves… not entirely unlike the Star League in some regards, although he appears to have mined ancient history for names. It would be a military oligarchy with a strict caste system to manage limited resources… which certainly fitted their situation. The exact details aren’t clear - the refugees were for the most part not well connected, but after twenty years of relative isolation, he had united the outlying colonies under his rule, controlled the closest thing to a functioning economy… and had a coherent and well-equipped army.” He gestured in a ‘you get the idea’.
“And then he turned back to the original five colonies,” Focht concluded. “Divided and exhausted, I assume he made short work of them.”
“Quite. Several Clans attacked each world and for the most part they made short work of opposition. Many factions simply surrendered. By that point, General Kerensky’s name was one to conjure with - the memory of a time of peace and comparative plenty. This Kerensky was offering what sounded like a route back to that.”
“I assume that the refugees weren’t enamored of his vision?” asked Wei.
“Perhaps not in the manner you’re thinking. The Clans absorbed the settlements they conquered - incorporating the people into their ranks. There was a certain amount of dissent, questions about whether the harsh measures taken on the colonies were necessary now that they had triumphed, now that they had substantially more manpower. Whether their ilKhan should still exercise such dictatorial power.” Cameron shook his head. “Kerensky did as such men often did: he made an example of the Clan that seemed most in opposition to him. Clan Wolf were his chosen, his favorites. Clan Wolverine, the center of what they claim was still broadly loyal opposition, was all but eradicated. As far as they knew, that little convoy of five thousand or so refugees was all that was left of the Clan.”
“That is unfortunately easy to believe,” Dahlia Erin agreed. “In some ways, after all, worse was happening here in the Inner Sphere.”
Precentor New Earth frowned. “What happened to them? The refugees? And if they made their way back here, why did you say Toyama didn’t know where Kerensky had gone?”
“In reverse order,” Cameron told him, “The refugees were afraid that if anyone in the Inner Sphere found the Clans then it would reveal that someone had escaped to report their existence. To prevent that, they wiped their navigational data before handing over their ships. As for what happened to them, for the most part it was the same as the other any other group refugees that ComStar chose to assist. Some joined our ranks, other filtered into refugee camps and resettlements under our protection. Toyama agreed to keep their secret and…”
“And Conrad Toyama was exceptionally good at keeping secrets,” Erin observed respectfully.
“I suppose some of them may have made records, or simply passed down an oral tradition to their children,” Cameron continued. “I would assume though that the Primus took steps to discourage both. As the secret has held, with considerable success.”
“So secret that we’re only finding this out now!” Wei grumbled. “Although… I wonder.”
Everyone waited, looking at her.
“Forty or so years ago, a group using wolf iconography did arrive from the periphery,” Wei said quietly. “And ComStar’s leadership reacted with almost immediate suspicion. Quite ridiculous effort was made to destroy or cripple the Wolf Dragoons. Some of those efforts more subtle than the others. If someone in ComStar was watching and waiting for a long delayed pursuit from this Clan Wolf… well, believing that the Dragoons were exactly that would be no more ridiculous than some of the other theories put about.”
“It would certainly fit with the theories that they’re some remnant of the SLDF,” admitted Cameron. “I can’t say that it’s true, but it could be,.”
Wei frowned. “It might be worth asking.”
“I’m fairly sure that they were asked, Primus. You know what a media darling Natasha Kerensky has been over the years,” Precentor New Earth pointed out.
“Yes, but were they being asked the right questions? I will review the full data, please,” she asked Cameron. “And I suggest you all do the same.”
“I’ll try to find time for that,” Focht told her. “But I believe my first priority should be to prepare in case this attack on The Rock wasn’t an isolated incident. Whether this group is the same Clan Wolf or not - we are building a great deal off one image - we certainly have no agreements with them to protect the security of our enclaves. I’d like to reinforce our security in the region, and bring our readiness to a higher state. If we cannot match this group’s technology, we can at least be forewarned of it.”
Wei nodded. “Of course. We will attempt diplomacy. Even if it fails, we may learn more of them. But if we are attacked.”
“Thank you, Primus.” Focht rose. “With your permission, I will take personal command of operations in the area.”
Wei blinked. Well, he was the military expert. If he thought he could best handle this from there then she didn’t think she was well placed to second-guess. “Alright, but no sneaky excursions to Kooken’s Pleasure Pit. If I can’t go there, nor can you.”
-
Butterflies, butterflies ...
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I really love how Wei is approaching the whole problem... 8)
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So much more organized and logical this time.
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Be interesting if it's Comstar that hold the equivalent of the Wolf Dragoons' conference to explain the Clan invasion
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Especially whether they'll do that way earlier than the ... bumbling 'goons did in OTL... ::)
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So Labov still left the warrior caste, but I guess that with the demands of the invasion he will get to play significant role sooner than OTL. He probably asked Ace to stay with 21st to look over those who remained after the trials and he himself surely wants to stay close to the one he swore vengeance against.
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I hope I'm not too late this time. Excellent fic, so far I'd say probably the best I've read of you.
Just this little quibble again...
“Forty or so years ago, a group using wolf iconography did arrive from the periphery,” Wei said quietly. “And ComStar’s leadership reacted with almost immediate suspicion. Quite ridiculous effort was made to destroy or cripple the Wolf Dragoons. Some of those efforts more subtle than the others. If someone in ComStar was watching and waiting for a long delayed pursuit from this Clan Wolf… well, believing that the Dragoons were exactly that would be no more ridiculous than some of the other theories put about.”
This should probably still be "Wolf's Dragoons" as it's ComStar. But fret not, you can have the "Oh My God, it's actually 'the Wolf Dragoons'" revelation on-screen this time.
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I hope I'm not too late this time. Excellent fic, so far I'd say probably the best I've read of you.
Just this little quibble again...
“Forty or so years ago, a group using wolf iconography did arrive from the periphery,” Wei said quietly. “And ComStar’s leadership reacted with almost immediate suspicion. Quite ridiculous effort was made to destroy or cripple the Wolf Dragoons. Some of those efforts more subtle than the others. If someone in ComStar was watching and waiting for a long delayed pursuit from this Clan Wolf… well, believing that the Dragoons were exactly that would be no more ridiculous than some of the other theories put about.”
This should probably still be "Wolf's Dragoons" as it's ComStar. But fret not, you can have the "Oh My God, it's actually 'the Wolf Dragoons'" revelation on-screen this time.
There´s a missed opportunity here, though. Wei could have innocently misspoken saying "Wolf Dragoons", leading someone else, perhaps Focht, to that revelation. "Blessed Blake... what if they really aren´t Wolf´s Dragoons, they´re the Wolf Dragoons? What if they were part of the Clans all along?"
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Opalescent Reflections
Dealer’s Choice
Chapter 9
CDS Terror of the Deep
Deep Periphery
29 September 3049
Dozens or hundreds of warriors and their support staff essentially trapped within their dropship for months were not a good combination. The crews of the dropships were somewhat used to the confinement, the jumpship and warship crews found it more or less normal - but even they were getting worn down by friction with the warriors who weren’t.
Ace, like most of the officers gathered on Ian Hawker’s flagship today, had spent months doing everything he could to distract the warriors under his command in order to keep grievances from reaching the point that half the forces they needed for the invasion were hospitalized or dead. Simulator duels were safer than unaugmented brawling… but that was less of an option for elementals.
Diamond Sharks being Diamond Sharks, there was a trade network exchanging favors for games, games for entertainment vids that might not have been watched a hundred times already, and if it were not for the contraceptive implants half the female warriors would be pregnant by now.
Ace had dug out the available reports from the Wolf Dragoons and since those were thinner than he’d like, he’d added the official reports and recordings from Operation Klondike - the eleven month campaign that had brought the Pentagon worlds under the rule of the Clans. Clan Diamond Shark - or rather Clan Sea Fox, since this was long before the change of name and totem - had fought for Babylon and accounts from the founders were still on file. Studying them would hopefully be profitable for his officers in ways other than trading the simulations they’d created from the reports had proven.
The war council was packed into a small wardroom: a dozen Star Colonels joining the Khans and Galaxy Commander Bikendi Vewas. The latter spoke rarely - Omega Galaxy had been included in the final bid only in an effort to bring the Diamond Sharks’ bid in below those of other Clans in quality without sacrificing quantity. With the door closed it was possible to imagine that they were only a few meters from the warriors of Alpha Galaxy, half of whom were on the battleship’s troop decks and attached dropships.
“The idea of establishing a command circuit between the Homeworlds and Pentagon would have many strategic benefits,” Khan Sennet allowed after a proposal from one of her Star Colonels was heard out. “Unfortunately, it would also have several costs. Our merchant fleet has contracted obligations in between the homeworlds.”
“Counting credits is hardly as important as supporting the invasion,” cut in Ian Hawker.
“Aff,” agreed Barbara Sennet. “But the fleet’s contracts are supporting the invasion already - they are providing our Clan’s factories with raw materials to construct the equipment we need to carry out Operation Revival and the credits they earn are being spent to purchase what we cannot provide from our own enclaves.”
“A single chain of jumpships would also not be enough,” Ace pointed out boldly. The comment drew eyes from around the room. “We would need two, because otherwise a single jumpship failure could cripple the command circuit and leave ships and cargo stranded far from any support. Convoys have less risk in that regard. Can we afford to reassign the number of jumpships required for a double command circuit, quineg?”
Hawker frowned and checked the numbers. “Neg,” he admitted.
“If we had a forward supply base, periphery worlds we had secured in the way of the other Clans, then a shorter circuit might be feasible using jumpships from the Inner Sphere but unfortunately…” Ace spread his hands. Invasion corridors Alpha, Beta and Gamma ran through small periphery nations that clung to the edge of the Inner Sphere. Scouting units from Clan Jade Falcon, Clan Wolf and Clan Smoke Jaguar had torn through their defenses without too much difficulty - a single mercenary unit on The Rock and an especially cunning pirate on Santander V had been the only resistance worth mentioning. But no such settled worlds appeared to exist in Corridor Delta and when Ian Hawker had bid for the right to claim Porthos, the nearest such world in Corridor Gamma, the Smoke Jaguars had bid dangerously low only to find the world was protected by only a single mechwarrior.
He had died bravely, everyone agreed, under the guns of the Smoke Jaguar’s saKhan Sarah Weaver.
“Aff,” the Khan agreed. “We will have supply convoys explore other systems lying between ourselves and the homeworlds by varying the routes - the navigational data will be valuable and if we find a suitable world we can reconsider.”
Sennet pursed her lips. “That could be advantageous,” she agreed. “If we could relocate factories closer to the Inner Sphere it would make it significantly easier to resupply. Particularly if the world in question was unknown to the Successor States.”
Hawker frowned. “The invasion will conclude long before factories could enter production on such a world.”
“We may have reached Terra by then,” observed Vewas quietly. “I doubt we will be without trials - either against the other Clans or against the Successor States. All four invasion corridors combined are perhaps one-eighth of the Inner Sphere by volume.”
“We will hold Terra.”
“I believe,” Sennet told the senior Khan, “That Terra is currently held by an organization called ComStar. They do not appear to control the Inner Sphere so it is entirely possible that taking Terra will not lead to the submission of the Successor States.”
Ian Hawker glared at her. “You may plan for this contingency. Now,” he consulted his datapad. “Star Colonel Enders has a proposal to make.”
Everyone looked at Ace, some of them with concern.
“I have been running some simulations,” he began, loading a data disc into the holo projector. A map sprang up in the middle of the room, displaying the outline of Corridor Delta, overlaid on the latest data of the Inner Sphere’s borders.
“I have heard about your Cluster’s export of sims,” Hawker told him. “Are you feeling an urge to be a merchant? Or a scientist?”
“If I live long enough to be surpassed,” Ace replied. “I modeled our part of Operation Revival using SLDF strategic planning software and my officers and I have been exploring options for how the Combine could respond.” Or to put it another way, they’d been playing strategy games against each other, but it was as realistic as he could manage given the available constraints.
Barbara Sennet leant forwards as Ace updated the map with unit markers. “What are your sources on the troop numbers?”
“Estimates based on the reports from the Wolf Dragoons. Five elite regiments - their Sword of Light brigade. Forty-five Regular regiments, mostly concentrated in Dieron, Benjamin and Galedon Districts…” The three military districts that faced the Federated Commonwealth. The invasion would have to fight through Benjamin and Dieron districts to reach Terra, but they would first encounter the less protected Alshain and Pesht districts. “A further fifteen regiments of second-line units and mercenaries. This may be optimistic.”
“You expect mercenaries to be a challenge for us?” barked Hawker.
Yes, Ace thought. The Dragoons’ reports made it clear that there had been other regiments of mercenaries that were as good - or better - than those of the Great Houses. “They may be used as a first wave to force our warriors to expend munitions and take armor damage before House units engage,” he said diplomatically. “One point that emerged during the simulation was these worlds.”
The map updated again, highlighting eight worlds within the Combine - all near but not inside the invasion corridor.
“What is their significance?” asked Bikwendi. “Luthien, I have heard of - the Combine’s capital.”
“Pesht, Benjamin and Dieron are all district capitals,” Sennet informed them all. “I assume that the other four worlds are similarly important, Star Colonel.”
Ace nodded in confirmation. “Kagoshima, Algedi, Ashio and Al Na’ir are all industrial worlds and prefectural capitals. As such they are ideal staging areas for counter-attacks into the invasion corridors.”
“We would crush them,” declared Star Colonel Lionel Arlond heartily.
“Yes, but Clusters that are fighting against such counter-attacks are not advancing towards Terra.” Ace indicated the twelve clusters of warriors committed to the invasion. “Luthien alone is within a single jump of three worlds within the corridor and Pesht the same. To secure each of those worlds against a multi-regiment attack would require a cluster each - and if we limit ourselves to tripwire forces while nodal units respond, those tripwires will be crushed by sheer weight of numbers. Losses we cannot easily replace.”
Vewas stroked his chin. “And if we hold Omega Galaxy back entirely to respond to such attacks?”
“If we have no forces on these worlds then do we really control the corridor?” Ace asked. “The worlds in reach of Luthien are going to be key for our supply lines unless we rely on uninhabited systems - Luthien is on one of the few routes crossing between the Rasalhague rift and the Draconis rift.” He highlighted the jump routes through the Draconis Combine, indicating the gulfs where no single jump routes existed across large swathes of space. Certainly jumpships could use abandoned systems or even deep space, but if anything went wrong the jumpship would be left stranded. That was one of the major problems already being faced just in reaching the Inner Sphere and why no Diamond Shark jumpships were traveling alone.
“I take it that you have an alternative?” Hawker asked irritably.
Ace nodded. “The key point is that these worlds are close to our planned route through the Combine. I propose that we should shift our axis of advance to include the capture of these worlds. There are three advantages of this: firstly, it deprives the Draconis Combine of convenient staging areas. I doubt it would prevent them from attempting attacks on our exposed flank, but it would make it much harder for them.”
Vewas frowned. “It also adds those worlds to those that we must secure against counter-attacks. And the Combine will be highly motivated to regain them.”
“Making them relatively predictable,” Star Colonel Arlond pointed out.
“It is no guarantee that other worlds will be spared, but it is likely that recovering these worlds will be a high priority,” Ace agreed. “And this leads to the second benefit of striking at them. The Combine would lose that industrial output and we would possess it.”
Khan Sennet shook her head. “The production facilities will be unable to manufacture the equipment required by our ‘mechs,” she told Ace in a testing tone.
“But they can be used to restore the ‘mechs and combat vehicles that we salvage on the battlefields,” he pointed out. “And by moving garrison warriors forwards as soon as we are allowed, without the bulk of their equipment, we can quickly build up additional garrison units to provide security to the full corridor against both trials and against insurgencies. The latter is extremely likely, the records of the Pentagon campaign shows that not everyone will recognise the superiority of the Clan way. In fact, since many of these worlds have vastly larger populations than the Pentagon did, it may be months or years before some of the inhabitants see even an administrator from the Clan, much less a warrior. It will be important to have inexpensive and easily maintained forces available on every world to quell such activity without having to commit the touman’s more limited number of frontline - and even secondline - warriors.”
The saKhan sat back, looking satisfied. “Well argued.”
“And the third benefit you mentioned?” enquired Arlond.
Ace adjusted the controls and a new set of worlds were highlighted. “These are the national, district and prefectural capitals of the Draconis Combine. All the military and political control of House Kurita goes through these worlds. Between the existing corridors and the proposed expansion, only nine of them would remain under Kuritan control. Two-thirds of their command and control would be stripped away. They would not only have lost staging areas, they would have lost the facilities to control much of the regions being fought over. Without a national capital and four of their five district capitals… they would have to completely rearrange their chains of command.”
“Imagine if our Clan lost the offices and records of two out of every three leadership figures within the castes,” Sennet said drily, as officers frowned. “Including the Clan Council. It would be chaos, we would need weeks to make contact with everyone and try to identify what our resources and obligations were. And that is across less than a dozen worlds. House Kurita has hundreds of worlds.”
“Aff,” agreed Khan Hawker. “This interests me, Star Colonel. However, it does mean breaking with the plans established by the ilKhan. And your information is not current. Would your current plan call for changes to the initial waves? I see that the first of these worlds is Pesht, near our fourth and fifth wave targets.”
“Neg, Khan Hawker,” Ace confirmed. “The first two waves would be unaffected. Only on the third wave would we need to amend the deployments of frontline forces so that they are positioned to attack Pesht as part of the fourth wave.”
The Khan nodded. “In that case, review and update your proposed strategy once we have firsthand data on the Draconis Combine and their Mustered Soldiery.” He pronounced the unfamiliar words carefully. “I will discuss this with the ilKhan and determine how much flexibility we can show. Leaving unconquered worlds between ourselves and the Smoke Jaguars would be almost as dangerous as the staging areas you have pointed out.”
“As you command, my Khan.” Ace shut down the projector and retrieved the data disk. That had gone well. Would Leo Showers approve the Diamond Sharks taking an independent route? He didn’t know - he’d never met the ilKhan. But even if Showers refused, the ilKhan’s power over a Clan’s specific military operations was limited. If enough of the Diamond Sharks’ officers approved - and Ace thought that he had won support here - then both Showers and Hawker might find themselves forced to accept the plan.
Hilton Head, North America
Terra, Sol System
9 October 3049
It wasn’t the first negotiation that Wei had carried out, far from it. But for the most part she had negotiated with businessmen or politicians. She had been fortunate that in the few years of her Primacy, she had not had to deal with any of the Successor Lords.
Granted, the man she was about to bargain with was no Successor Lord - but he was a soldier and except for Precentor Martial Focht and his subordinates she had little experience of them. She suspected he would respect forthrightness, so it was unfortunate that she was going to have to bluff and lie.
There was a short countdown before the screen that took up all of one wall of the small room lit up, revealing another room. The man facing her wore a black jacket and pants, the latter with a red stripe down the outside seams. The jacket had an embroidered wolf head and pelt on the left shoulder, left revealed by a cape that was cinched across his chest with a silver chain. Each side of his collar bore a wolf’s head, and each sleeve bore three silver stars.
“Colonel Wolf,” she greeted him, not caring for status games of seeing who would be first to give up and speak.
“Primus Rong,” Jaime Wolf greeted her flatly. He was not good at hiding suspicions, it seemed.
Wei gestured to the seat behind her. “Shall we sit? This may not be a quick conversation.”
“If you are trying to hire my regiments, it probably will be short,” he told her. “I can think of no other business that we might have.”
“Then I assume that you haven’t heard from Colonel Morgan Kell recently,” she told him.
“We both know he hasn’t been to Outreach in years,” the mercenary told her. “And I am sure you would know if he had sent me a personal message.”
“So you know nothing of this?” Wei asked, and tapped a control that replaced the image of her that he would be seeing with the final images received from Phelan Kell’s BattleROMs.
Whatever Jaime Wolf had expected, it was not to be face to cockpit with the gray-painted ‘mech that ComGuards analysts had nicknamed the ‘Mad Cat’. He took a half-step back and Wei could read his face well enough to know that he recognised it.
A heartbeat later, she removed the image. “That was the last data received from Morgan Kell’s son,” she said soberly. “Clan Wolf has reached the edges of the Inner Sphere and it does not appear that they have come in peace. That concerns me, and I believe it concerns you.”
“That… I have no idea who this Clan Wolf is,” Wolf declared, recovering his poise. “Do you imagine a connection simply because my family name happens to be Wolf?”
Wei looked him squarely in the eye. “Please don’t insult my intelligence, Colonel. You may not be directly tied to Clan Wolf - after all, the Dragoons haven’t visited the Periphery in almost thirty years - but there are too many coincidences. And when I showed you that ‘mech, you knew exactly what you were looking at. I do not know if your unit came to the Inner Sphere to avoid them or as their agents, but you have encountered Nicholas Kerensky’s Clans before. And the one thing they are not is unimportant.”
The two glared at each other for a moment.
“If you prefer,” Wei observed, “I can discuss this with Archon Melissa Steiner-Davion. I believe she would be curious about a potential threat to her realm, particularly one who may have killed or captured her young cousin Phelan. That is ultimately a conversation that I will have to have, would you rather I have to report that you have been intransigent on the subject?”
Jaime Wolf scowled at her and then shook his head. “Very well, Primus. You are at least as manipulative as your predecessors.”
Ouch. “In that case, let us hope that we are on the same side in this,” Wei told him seriously. “Now can we please both sit down? I’m not good at standing still for a long time. I get pins and needles. You’re not that much taller than me, but I’d get a crick in my neck if I sat and you didn’t.”
As she had hoped, the personal confidence softened Wolf’s demeanor. “In the interests of mortal frailties then.” Both sat down in the chairs provided for that purpose. “I take it that your Order’s knowledge of the Clans is why ComStar’s neutrality has always been somewhat slanted against the Dragoons?”
Wei shook her head. “I’m fairly sure Julian Tiepolo had never heard of the Clans. What information we had been mostly forgotten until Phelan Kell’s last message gave us the hook that led to it. The Primus when you arrived in the Inner Sphere simply detested mercenaries and those who thought that you might be a lead to SLDF were happy to use that. A number of your people and ours suffered for that.”
“So ComStar knew what happened to the Exodus… and lost the information?” Wolf asked, incredulously.
She sighed. “In simple terms, yes. It was over two centuries ago and the Primus at the time felt it was best not made public, at least right away. He sealed the records and… well, I’m sure you know how putting off a decision can become habit. I don’t know if he informed his successor, but somewhere along the way knowledge that the files even existed was lost.”
Wolf’s face tightened for a moment. “And why did he not want to tell anyone about us?”
“So, you do originate with the Clans,” Wei said brightly and smiled brightly as he scowled. “Let’s trade information, Colonel. Answers for answers. You’ve just given me some information, so I’ll answer your question next, then it’s your turn. Does that sound fair?”
“I make no promises to answer every question,” he said slowly, “But in principle, yes.”
“Likewise.” Wei tapped her fingers. “Obviously I can’t ask Primus Toyama his thinking, but his recorded concerns seem plausible to the era he lived in. He learned of the Clans in the mid-2820s, a time when living memory of the Star League was fading. In place of the reality, popular culture replaced it with the image of an unalloyed golden age. Reverence of House Cameron, the SLDF and in particular Aleksandr Kerensky had risen markedly, particularly in contrast to the horrors of the First Succession War and the impending Second Succession War. At its extremes, that view led to the formations of cults - arguably the transition of the Ministry of Communications into ComStar was one of them.”
Wolf uttered a barking laugh.
“I’ll deny saying that if you repeat it,” Wei warned him wryly. “Anyway, Toyama’s fear was that the revelation that the SLDF wasn’t waiting somewhere to return and put right everything that had gone wrong since… well, pick your date. The knowledge that the SLDF had done to themselves what the Inner Sphere was already doing would have been a tremendous shock to many people. It might not have been a realistic hope, but for some people it was the only hope they saw left. The Primus felt there was a risk of mass hysteria, perhaps even a wave of suicides as that prop was kicked away. To be honest, I’m sure there would have been some. Perhaps not as many as he feared, but I can understand not wanting to find out.”
“It’s so like ComStar to think that only they can deal with truth,” Wolf snorted.
“There were at least four suicides within the ranks of those who did learn the truth,” Wei admitted. “Perhaps they were anomalies… but it’s hard to be sure. Similarly, while the Successor Lords were probably not actually restrained by any expectation Kerensky would return, the reverence towards what remained of the Star League was one of ComStar’s tools. Toyama had already found it necessary to interdict Tharkad briefly in order to defend the Order. While he didn’t record any such concerns, I suspect that my predecessor felt that if the SLDF’s memory was tainted then it might encourage one of the Successor Lords to think that they could seize Terra.” She shrugged. “Speculation on my part, but I think it’s plausible. So… why did you never tell the Successor Lords about the Clans? You’ve certainly had the opportunity.”
Wolf frowned in thought. “You don’t have any more recent information, do you?”
Wei narrowed her eyes and feigned annoyance. If he was so stupid that he couldn’t make that connection, she doubted he’d be alive after forty years as a mercenary.
The mercenary nodded, confident in his deduction. “To give you some background, almost fifty years ago, a significant faction within the Clans argued that they should return to the Inner Sphere and reunite it in the same way that our ancestors had the Pentagon worlds. It was a controversial view, but it gained a great deal of traction. The matter was to be put to a vote within our senior leadership and it might have passed. Those who opposed the idea decided that directly confronting it would likely fail, so instead they argued that it would be reckless. Before returning to the Pentagon worlds, the Founder and his advisors had gathered extensive information, but we knew almost nothing about current circumstances within the Inner Sphere.”
That made considerable sense to Wei, but she said nothing. Letting Wolf fill the silence.
“The Dragoons were a compromise. A group of volunteers who would enter the Inner Sphere and gather information. Those who sent us knew it would be decades before the mission ended and hoped that the wait would cool interest in the topic.” He spread his hands. “We faced quite enough suspicion without declaring ourselves spies from a potentially hostile nation.”
Wei nodded. “I see. I’m tempted from what you’ve just said to ask you what changed, but you didn’t know the Clans had arrived until I told you. Are you still in contact with them?”
Wolf gave her a sour look. “As amusing as it would be to tell you that we have the means of communicating across many times the range of an HPG, no. We rendezvoused with messengers in the Periphery twice - firstly towards the end of our first contract and then again… Wait. It’s my turn to ask a question.”
“Didn’t you just learn that our data is rather dated?” she asked slyly.
“Well, to answer your question, no. Our own last contact was almost thirty years ago.”
The Dragoons’ last supply run then, in 3019. A generation ago, but much more recent than Wei’s data. A great deal could have changed over those two hundred years.
Wolf studied her. “How did you - your predecessor - learn of the Clans.”
“When the Pentagon worlds were invaded by your ancestors, some of the survivors saw that they couldn’t defeat the Clans but also didn’t want to join them. I couldn’t say how many managed to get away, but one small convoy reached the Inner Sphere. ComStar happened to make first contact with them and once their origins became clear, Primus Toyama was informed as quickly as possible. Our founder, Jerome Blake, had always regretted not knowing what happened to General Kerensky so the standing order was that any news should be sent to the Primus as soon as possible.”
“Alright, your turn then,” he accepted.
Wei saw no sign that he suspected her of dissembling. For the best, really. Finding out how Wolf would react to learning some of Clan Wolf’s ancient enemies had reached Inner Sphere was not on today’s agenda. “The question I’m sure that almost everyone will ask once this comes out: where your loyalties lie now. After a lifetime in the Inner Sphere?”
“My last orders from Khan Kerlin Ward were to break off communication and prepare the Inner Sphere for the possibility that the Crusaders might rise again and this time have their way. If Clan Wolf have reached the edges of the Inner Sphere then I have to assume that that time has come.” Wolf looked into the middle distance. “I cannot honestly say that I’ve made much progress, but the Wolf Dragoons will support anyone who needs our help against the Clans.” His lips quirked. “At discounted rates. We are mercenaries, after all. And yourself? What will ComStar do?”
“Our purpose is to provide neutral communications,” she told him. “We will attempt peaceful communication, and fight only if we must. However, part of that communication is to share news that is of public interest. I believe that a great many people will be interested in the Clans. If you are willing to share your knowledge of the Clans with not only ComStar but also the Great Houses then I would be willing to put our influence behind that message… and against any attempt to target you for past associations.”
Wolf looked at her suspiciously. “That’s surprisingly generous.”
Wei leant forwards and let all humor fall away. “I said we would fight only if we must. I do have a bottom line, Colonel Wolf. If the Clans cross that line then ComStar will fight with every tool we have. Even if I have to drag the First Circuit kicking and screaming into that decision.”
-
Twelfth Donegal Guards Headquarters, Trellwan
Tamar March, Federated Commonwealth
19 October 3049
The waiting room outside Colonel Hawksworth’s office was quiet, the secretary clearly focused on her own work. The only other officer present was a tall, blond Hauptmann who’d given Victor Steiner-Davion a second look after hearing his name before returning to the six month old copy of Lyran Arms and Armor that he was reading.
After the crowded conditions on the dropship, Victor was content to enjoy the moment of peace. From what his father and cousin Morgan had told him, he’d probably be buried in work once he finished reporting in. He’d be the most junior leutnant in the Twelfth Donegal Guards, which from various stories probably meant that every unpleasant duty that required a commissioned officer would be passed down to him. It was a rite of passage, in its way. Between that and leading his own lance, Victor suspected it’d be almost as bad as hell week at the Nagelring.
“Leutnant,” the secretary called. “Colonel Hawksworth will see you now.”
Victor blinked in surprise. He’d expected the Hauptmann would be called for first - he’d obviously been waiting a while if he was bored enough to be reading a magazine that old. Giving the other officer an apologetic look, Victor thanked the secretary and went through the indicated door.
Colonel Jeremy Hawksworth looked exactly like his profile picture, a trim competent officer. He was standing next to the national colors rather than sitting behind his desk and returned Victor’s salute crisply.
“Leutnant Steiner-Davion, reporting for duty, sir.”
The colonel studied him for a moment and then nodded. “Welcome to the Twelfth Donegal Guards, leutnant. No problems on your way here?”
“No sir.” It was the most time Victor had spent on a dropship - even the voyages between Tharkad and New Avalon had been expedited along shipping lines - but that wasn’t what he’d call a problem.
“Good.” Hawksworth gestured to the seat facing his desk and sat himself behind the cluttered workstation. “I just told you a lie, do you know what it was?”
A lie? “No sir,” he said again.
“No one wanted you here, Leutnant. Or at least, no one who doesn’t think they can ride your coat-tails to a better assignment. I hope that number is small, but people being people there will be some. More common are the ones who think you’ll expect to be waited on hand and foot -”
Victor saw red. “I don’t expect special treatment. Sir.”
“You’re royalty. You will get special treatment, most likely in ways you don’t want. You were born with it and it would be easier for you to grow another thirty centimeters than change that fact.” The Colonel gave him a dour look. “For example, any failure on your part will reflect upon the entire chain of command from your company commander up to whoever has to tell your great-aunt about it. The more intelligent of my officers are quietly terrified you will do something stupid that will sink their careers.”
“That won’t…”
“I am aware that your immediate family will not hold it against us,” Hawksworth cut him off. “But having ‘let the heir to the Federated Commonwealth get his head shot off’ will still be read by every superior and promotion board any of us had. I am not blaming you for any of this - it is completely outside of your control. However, you need to understand that the immediate response from the other officers when we learned you were assigned to us was ‘What did we do wrong to deserve this?’”
Victor gripped the arms of his chair. Was this what he’d been headed for? Being judged before anyone even met him.
“I’ve read your Nagelring transcripts,” the colonel continued. “And those from New Avalon. Based on those, I believe that you can overcome that impression - everything on them suggests that you have the potential to be an excellent officer. But I would never send one of my officers into battle without providing them with all relevant intelligence, and you need to know what you’re getting into.”
“Thank you, sir.” At least Hawksworth was going to give him a chance.
“The easiest way to deal with you would be to simply never put you in a position where you can fail, but that would do you - and potentially the entire Federated Commonwealth - a tremendous disservice. You cannot learn the lessons of being a junior officer if you’re wrapped in tissue paper.”
Victor felt a wave of relief. That was what he’d dreaded more than almost anything.
“At the same time, we don’t give new graduates complete freedom of action. If we do pull you back, consider that your commanders have to do this with all leutnants. Allowing you to make a mistake that would cost lives when we can prevent it would be inexcusable. Most, if not all, the restraints you are under will be the same we would apply to any new officer.”
“I’ll do my best sir.”
“Of that I have no doubt.” Hawksworth tapped his desktop terminal and consulted a file. “I’ll introduce you to your company commander. In addition to the duties he provides you, I’ll send you a list of social events coming up this month. By tomorrow I want a list of eight that you’ll be participating in - four AFFC events and four civil events. This will be the normal expectation while you’re with the Twelfth.”
Victor was on his feet before he realized it, “Sir, I’m here to be a soldier, not to socialize!”
The colonel tilted his head to one side, studying Victor as if he was some poisonous object. “Respect for officers above you in the chain of command is expected to go somewhat further than calling them ‘sir’, leutnant.”
He took a deep breath. “My apologies, sir. It won’t happen again.”
“Good.” Hawksworth watched him sit down. “Before you make any further protest, this is the same expectation I have placed on every new officer joining the unit. The old LCAF regulations that required all officers to attend a certain number of social events may have been retired but there was always a sound reason behind them, even if it became abused. Socializing amongst each other is one of the ways that soldiers build esprit d’corps. Regimental dinners, sporting competitions and the like are opportunities for you to meet and get to know your peers, subordinates and superiors. Ways to make a good impression.”
Victor flushed. A better impression than he had just made. “And civilian events, sir?”
“The Guards will see action perhaps two or three times a year at most. Possibly much less. It is wise to keep the civilian authorities - both the formal government and those who informally influence them - favorably inclined. If all they see is reports of young soldiers getting drunk and misbehaving, or of accidental property damage when we drill and exercise then that becomes harder. Reminding everyone on Trellwan that we are professionals here to protect them is another part of our preparations to deliver that protection. Not more important than training, maintenance and other such activities, but not so very much less.”
Hawksworth paused before adding. “I expect you to do your part in all such matters, leutnant. Your presence is likely to draw the wealthy and well connected from worlds within reach of Trellwan. This is not a bad thing for you or for the Twelth Guards, this is an opportunity to do better. And I would be negligent to ignore any advantage you may provide to my command. Are we clear.”
“As glass, sir.”
“Good. At this point I would usually remind a young leutnant of the perils of early parenthood, but I imagine that you are at least aware of how many people will be stalking you in hopes of obtaining an engagement ring. May I assume that you are sufficiently prepared for that battlefield.”
“Yes sir.”
“Very good,” the colonel said approvingly. “I hope not to hear that anything has gone wrong in that regard, but if it does then it is much better for me to learn directly from you than from a third party. And infinitely better than my learning about it via a tirade from the General of Armies.”
Victor winced. His great-aunt’s temper was legendary.
“Now that you are sufficiently tenderized, I’ll introduce you to Hauptmann Cox.” Hawksworth tapped his intercom. “Kathy, please send Cox in to face his karmic justice.”
What did that mean?
The door opened to admit the Hauptmann that Victor had seen waiting outside. He saluted, with somewhat less than academy precision. “Sir.”
Hawksworth rested his hands on the desktop. “Hauptmann Cox, it is the unanimous opinion of your superiors within the Guards that you have displayed energy, ability and initiative since - and indeed before - taking command of C Company. How do you plead?”
Cox didn’t seem phased by this bizarre statement. “I plead guilty and throw myself upon the Colonel’s mercy.”
“I sentence you to take charge of our newest leutnant, who may prove as irredeemable as yourself, and may God have mercy upon your soul.” With that Hawkworth gestured dismissal with a jerk of his chin.
“Yes sir, thank you sir,” Cox replied with a smile. “Come along, leutnant.”
Victor rose to his feet obediently and followed the taller officer, wondering what new surprise he should expect now. Then again, the nature of being surprised was that he wouldn’t expect it.
Cox led Victor out of the building and down to a jeep. “Is that your Victor?” he asked, indicating a heavy transport rolling past.
Victor blinked and realized that he was right. “Yes, that’s it.”
“Hmm. I can work with that.” Cox hopped into the jeep and revved it up. “We’ll follow it to the hangar. Each battalion bases some distance away from the others so it’s a bit of a drive.” He pulled away before Victor had finished putting on his safety belt, pulling in behind the transport - close enough that Victor was glad of the windshield to deflect the worst of the dust kicked up.
“My office isn’t soundproofed the way the Colonel’s is,” Cox told him. “So this is a way for me to have a chat that no one can overhear.”
“Such as…?”
“I assume Hawkworth goaded you a bit? It’s how he’s handled every new leutnant I’ve come across so far.”
Victor nodded. “I’m glad I’m not the only one.”
“He says it’s so he knows what your temper is. I didn’t much like it myself, but it seems to work for him. Most new leutnants who get assigned out here are frustrated that they don’t get assigned somewhere more exciting - the border with the Combine, League or at least the Confederation. A backwater where the main threat is pirates or a very bold Rasalhague raider.”
Remembering his complaints to his family about the posting until his father explained the political signaling going on between House Steiner-Davion and House Kurita. Posting heirs with excellent academy scores to the border would suggest that they were ready to pick up where they’d left off fighting in 3040. It had been something of a surprise for Victor that his father hadn’t any intentions of finishing off the Draconis Combine, so it wasn’t difficult to imagine that the Draconis Combine would be even more suspicious.
“There is a reason green leutnants generally don’t get those postings,” Galen continued. “It’s bad enough dealing with a mechwarrior who’s never been under fire before, the last thing any sane officer wants is a lance or - Blake forbid - a company commander going through their trial by fire when they’re supposed to be issuing orders. However accurate simulations are, nothing prepares you for being shot at.”
“So we’re sent out here to deal with that where the stakes are lower?”
“I wouldn’t suggest saying that to the Trellwanese, but yes. Although if you think I’m putting the lives of three mechwarriors on the line just on the off chance that you won’t freeze up, think again. The Davions used to have a six months probation for new officers and that’s more or less what we do, even if it’s no longer an official process.”
Victor opened his mouth to speak angrily, then thought back to Hawksworth’s office and reined the impulse in. “So what will I be doing?” he asked in what he hoped was a calm voice.
Cox glanced towards him, the jeep veering slightly out of lane before he corrected it. “For now you’ll be my lance second - you shouldn’t have any trouble keeping up with my Crusader. That autocannon on your Victor should discourage anyone trying to get up close with my lance - we’re heavy on LRMs. Once I’m sure you’ll be able to keep your head - either because you have, or you’ve had a few months experience so we can get used to you, then we’ll look at giving you lead on a lance. Probably with an experienced NCO to back you up. Any questions?”
“I don’t have an autocannon on my Victor, it’s a VTR-9D model,” Victor corrected him. “That’s a gauss rifle.”
The Hauptmann glanced ahead and then pulled the jeep out of lane again, racing the engine to catch up with the transport and look up at the Victor’s right arm. “Hmm. So it is. That should be a nasty surprise for someone. Are there any other changes from a 9B?”
“A little more armor, pulse lasers and better ammunition stowage - I shouldn’t lose the reactor even if the ammunition takes a hit.”
“Very nice. Although…” Seeing oncoming traffic, Cox slowed the jeep and tucked back in behind the transport. “I assume gauss rifle ammo doesn’t explode so it’s less vulnerable to that anyway.”
Victor winced. “Let’s just say I don’t want to take a hit to the gauss rifle’s capacitors. It’s not as bad as the old autocannon’s magazine but it’s not great either.”
“I guess that’s a privilege of being the heir to the Federated Commonwealth. Who do I have to kill to get a Crusader with all those toys?” Cox asked him.
“Probably someone with more of a bounty than Redjack Ryan,” the prince told him. “We’re building them on Tharkad but the price tag is a bit steep. About twice what my Victor costs.”
Cox whistled. “That’s a little rich for my budget.”
“Do you think I will see action?” Victor asked. “You said this is a backwater.”
“I can tell you barely ever left court,” the Hauptmann said tolerantly. “On the major borders everyone is very careful not to cause a flare up. Even a probing raid is weighed and considered before it’s tried. It does happen, maybe every year or so there might be something somewhere on the borders. Ambergrist, a few years ago. Ryde, more recently. I was there for that one,” he added. “Right before we got sent out this way.”
“And here?”
“Funny thing is, it’s both less tense and harder to say who’s behind a particular raid. Nothing’s definite, but I haven’t heard about any raids out of the Greater Valkryate for six months or so. We’re probably due for something, but whether you get involved will be a matter of luck.” Then the tall man tapped the steering wheel with the heel of one hand. “Touch wood, Morgaine doesn’t decide to try taking you hostage or something. We’d beat them, but they have three battalions of ‘mechs and fair fights are for Solaris, not the battlefield.”
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Wow, speaking of butterflies, Uchi Tikidomo is dead. That's kind of sad, actually, if not surprising.
Gotta say, it's fascinating to see where this is going.
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Interesting. So, Victor is an LT this time? Any particular reason?
If I remember my books, it is a Hauptman in the novels when the clan's attacks.
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Interesting. So, Victor is an LT this time? Any particular reason?
If I remember my books, it is a Hauptman in the novels when the clan's attacks.
Kommandant, in fact.
My view of canon for the purposes of this story is: 'if I think it's stupid, I'm changing it'.
Victor being a kommandant right out of the academy was never really necessary to begin with, and clashes with his "I don't want special treatment" claims. He doesn't exercise any visible command authority until he raids Teniente anyway. So I'm starting him at a sensible rank.
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Can I get a "hallelujah!" ? :D
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I was able to do that once with my new LT. He worked for the maintenance tech for a week, ops warrant for a week, and supply for a week.
Then Top, the PSGs & I decided which platoon he got. Worked spectacularly better than here's your platoon. We put him with the platoon & PSG his temperament and skills worked best with.
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And THAT is what NCOs should get to do ALL the time! 8)
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Kommandant, in fact.
My view of canon for the purposes of this story is: 'if I think it's stupid, I'm changing it'.
Victor being a kommandant right out of the academy was never really necessary to begin with, and clashes with his "I don't want special treatment" claims. He doesn't exercise any visible command authority until he raids Teniente anyway. So I'm starting him at a sensible rank.
Plus I believe most Davions (if not all) start at Lieutenant,, him being placed as a Kommandt would be more in line with the Steiner 'social General' concept which his Grandma and Mother have spent most of their lives combating and his Dad being a very very vigorous ally in that fight. So, of course in the interest of 'balance' lets make the least likely of their children be a 'social general'. Though I am sure FASA at the time would shrug and state 'we are only making the equal of their rival 'Hohiro' and it's for 'the plot'".
My view point is all officers should have to make it to a mid-range NCO before becoming a Commissioned officer. You go to NAMA, Albion, ect, Great you graduate as a senior enlisted person (not an NCO), you have more points for the NCO promotion then the recruit off the street and more connections, but you still have to be in the trenches with the farmer from the Outback. You have the better education and chance at being an officer, but you are not one out of the gate, you have to earn it! The MoC is more honest with their officer grades as you can buy it with hard currency instead of soft (family, wealth, social standing), still doesn't make you a good officer let alone a good soldier. You should first be a good soldier, then a good leader, then a good commander, when you 'boost' someone to commissioned grade your missing half the good leader and all of the good soldier! Just my thoughts, sorry for the tangent, great chapter, thank you.
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Everyone looked at Ace, some of them with concern.
His reputation precedes him. I reckon Showers would only approve the attacks on additional targets if there was a danger of Sharks outracing the Jaguars.
W.Rong obfuscated the source of her knowledge of clans well, refugees from the operation Klondike is perfectly plausible.
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And THAT is what NCOs should get to do ALL the time! 8)
I agree completely. I can recall a few ensigns and 2nd lieutenants that made me wonder who changed their diapers and made sure they got their shoes on the right feet. I once told one that if he would simply hang himself on a hook until I needed him to sign something things would be so much better for everyone.
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Plus I believe most Davions (if not all) start at Lieutenant,, him being placed as a Kommandt would be more in line with the Steiner 'social General' concept which his Grandma and Mother have spent most of their lives combating and his Dad being a very very vigorous ally in that fight. So, of course in the interest of 'balance' lets make the least likely of their children be a 'social general'. Though I am sure FASA at the time would shrug and state 'we are only making the equal of their rival 'Hohiro' and it's for 'the plot'".
My view point is all officers should have to make it to a mid-range NCO before becoming a Commissioned officer. You go to NAMA, Albion, ect, Great you graduate as a senior enlisted person (not an NCO), you have more points for the NCO promotion then the recruit off the street and more connections, but you still have to be in the trenches with the farmer from the Outback. You have the better education and chance at being an officer, but you are not one out of the gate, you have to earn it! The MoC is more honest with their officer grades as you can buy it with hard currency instead of soft (family, wealth, social standing), still doesn't make you a good officer let alone a good soldier. You should first be a good soldier, then a good leader, then a good commander, when you 'boost' someone to commissioned grade your missing half the good leader and all of the good soldier! Just my thoughts, sorry for the tangent, great chapter, thank you.
You're suggesting a 5-8 year pre-game for a second LT. And the notion that to do one job you must first perform well at all the 'previous' jobs is just...well, it's misguided. What if you don't, in fact, want a good soldier to be a good commander, because those are different requirements? As different as a construction worker and a realtor. Why are you 'missing half the good leader'? The instinct that 'Oh, the Best Officers are Mustangs, therefore Every Officer Should Be A Mustang' is a peculiar and odd form of brainbug that I am afraid I do not grasp.
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Plus I believe most Davions (if not all) start at Lieutenant,, him being placed as a Kommandt would be more in line with the Steiner 'social General' concept which his Grandma and Mother have spent most of their lives combating and his Dad being a very very vigorous ally in that fight. So, of course in the interest of 'balance' lets make the least likely of their children be a 'social general'. Though I am sure FASA at the time would shrug and state 'we are only making the equal of their rival 'Hohiro' and it's for 'the plot'".
My view point is all officers should have to make it to a mid-range NCO before becoming a Commissioned officer. You go to NAMA, Albion, ect, Great you graduate as a senior enlisted person (not an NCO), you have more points for the NCO promotion then the recruit off the street and more connections, but you still have to be in the trenches with the farmer from the Outback. You have the better education and chance at being an officer, but you are not one out of the gate, you have to earn it! The MoC is more honest with their officer grades as you can buy it with hard currency instead of soft (family, wealth, social standing), still doesn't make you a good officer let alone a good soldier. You should first be a good soldier, then a good leader, then a good commander, when you 'boost' someone to commissioned grade your missing half the good leader and all of the good soldier! Just my thoughts, sorry for the tangent, great chapter, thank you.
In your opinion, does that make every fresh officer to come out of West Point or Annapolis as unbefitting of their position because they didn't "earn it" as enlisted or NCOs beforehand?
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Where does this idea that you can lead without first learning the job youre expecting to oversee, come from? I deal with it in Telecom all the time and it's ignorant as well as reeks of Elitism.
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Where does this idea that you can lead without first learning the job youre expecting to oversee, come from? I deal with it in Telecom all the time and it's ignorant as well as reeks of Elitism.
It's the standard argument between academic study versus practical experience. There ARE times when practical experience can blind a leader to what would become, later, obvious solutions, because "We've always done it this way". Then again, an Academic or Theoretical only grounding can result in doing something that the theory says SHOULD work, only to have it explode in your face, because the other guy ALSO knows that theory.
Remember, unlike technical fields, the biggest variable in military operations comes down to 'the other guy is also trying to win', and even very good intelligence doesn't mean your side knows what the other side is after-except not dying.
everyone is after not-dying.
well, most of the time. There are, like a lot things in military operations, exceptions to even THAT rule.
Point being, combat/military ops/military strategy is an adversarial process, and a major factor in success or failure, is the ability to be both planned, and spontaneous. When you look at the successful militaries in the modern era, you find a mix of officer leaders who rose through the ranks ("Mustangs" in American parlance) and Academy/formal-academic officers with NO enlisted time. The proportions vary by nation, or service, but it's a stronger mix than either "Rose from Private to General" armies or "Only Academy Graduates" armies.
The reason being that it gives a broader toolbox than either approach alone can provide, especially when you consider that the 'problems' you're solving often involve the contrary will of an opponent who's just as smart and determined as you are.
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THIS! A mix of perspectives gives you much better chances. It's not that "the best officers are x", it's that some of the best are x, some are y, and yet others are z. One of the Admirals I work for right now just had an article written about how he rose from being a direct commission officer to Flag. The other one I work for is the first Flag officer to have been commissioned as a Mustang (Limited Duty Officer; she's had MANY articles written about her by now).
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There are two more advantages of Ace´s plan that weren´t mentioned.
The first is that, short of Terra, Luthien far and away the more prestigious conquest anywhere near the invasion corridors. Probably the fourth most prestigious in all the Inner Sphere, after Terra, New Avalon and Tharkad. That prestige will go a long way towards making up for any delay the conquest causes to the advance down the invasion corridor, and it may also inspire the Jade Falcons and Smoke Jaguars (the Wolves not so much, probably) to do something foolish and reckless to match the glory that the Diamond Sharks have gained with that conquest.
The second is Luthien is going to be defended by some of the best units of the DCMS; destroying them in the conquest of Luthien will remove them as a threat to the invasion corridor´s exposed flank.
A big disadvantage, on the other hand, is that between the delays caused by capturing Luthien and Pesht, and the losses suffered especially on Luthien, it´ll give the ilKhan the pretext to activate the first reserve Clan and force the Diamond Sharks to share their corridor with them.
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Now Urlic assigned the reserve clans in a way that guaranteed maximum friction, Showers would likely do the same, but Sharks being more pragmatic in general could tentatively turn it to their advantage, giving the reinforcing clan (Steel Vipers) the worlds on the flank, so the counterattacks and raids would be mostly their problems, while Luthien would probably require resources of two clans to pull off even if the Wolf's Dragoons and Kell Hounds don't arrive in time, with LAW being the prime industrial prize onworld, followed by the shipyard.
I was thinking about the role that Angus Labov will play in the invasion, while he retired to the merchant caste like in OTL, the fact that he led the forces in crucial victories that provided the Clan with the place in invasion gives him much greater prestige than he had originally and even before he becomes the merchant leader, his word will carry great weight and not just in merchant caste, so in connection with saKhan Sennet, he will be able to carry out a lot of preparatory logistical work for invasion that IH would neglect, laying foundation for creation and deployment of PGCs and giving Sharks deeper material replacement pool than other Clans, so in theory Sharks should be able to maintain higher operational tempo than Jaguars and Falcons, excluding Hawker's mistakes along with difficult battles for Pesht and Luthien.
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When probing attacks by the DCMS gets to be of too much a problem for the Sharks, a reserve Clan could be requested to for a small attack lane out side of the stated locations in Cannon specifically to draw forces away from the Diamond Sharks.
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I find it odd that nobody is pointing to the tentative alliance of ComStar and Wolf's Dragoons against the clans as the single greatest butterfly of this chapter, far exceeding a rank bump downwards of a princeling. If the Wolves can call on Terran specialists, they might be able to scale or build up their clantech production faster. With the information from the wolves, Terran arms manufacture can begin to scale up before others. It currently might be only information exchanges and the Com-Star data-seals of approval on Jaimie's testimony, but that's for now.
As for the plans to attack Luthien, I would be warry of escalating a trial to such a target. Nuclear weapons don't come out of their silos unless red lines are crossed, but attempting to destroy 5/6 administrative capitals of the Combine would be a red-line. Then again, maybe ComStar and Mercenaries can come to the rescue there too and keep things from going 1SS.
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I have served under officers in both the US Navy and US Army that came from both routes to a commission. Some were good and some were bad regardless of how they got their rank. The simple fact is that an incompetent idiot will we such regardless of what their job is and what training and education they have.
Some of the best senior enlisted I served with would make lousy officers and many of the officers I served with would never have made it as an enlisted member. But that is more because of personality that any other reason.
But for reference the ones with the biggest heads and the most contempt for enlisted people that I servced under all came from the US Naval Acadamy and West Point.
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Opalescent Reflections
Dealer’s Choice
Chapter 10
CWS Dire Wolf
Near Periphery
15 January 3050
Having reviewed the parts of the Wolf Dragoons report dealing with ComStar, Ulric Kerensky wasn’t surprised to find their emissary wore a heavy, hooded robe. He was surprised when the man threw the hood back. The report suggested someone like a merchant or a scientist, skilled in their ways but certainly not someone with the edge of a warrior.
But this man’s eyepatch covered what was certainly a battle wound, and there were other scars, less severe. The man was older than Ulric, perhaps as old as the Nova Cat Khans, but he was clearly still vigorous and when they clasped hands in greeting, the calluses were those of an active mechwarrior.
“I am Ulric Kerensky, Khan of Clan Wolf.” He introduced himself. “And you would be…?”
“I am the Precentor Martial of ComStar. My name is Anastasius Focht, my Primus has sent me to establish contact with you.”
“You appear to have succeeded.” Ulric gestured to seats facing each other, next to one of the small windows that looked out on the stars. There was no reason to be inhospitable. They might come to blows later, but first they would bargain.
Focht sat down, watching Ulric quietly, waiting for the Khan to speak.
“So now that we are in contact,” he asked. “What does ComStar want with us?”
“Several things,” Focht rumbled, rather than said. His voice deepened, sounding mildly threatening. “To begin with, we would like you to stop attacking our jumpships. Our fleet is considerable but letting people make off with them is a poor precedent.”
“I do not recall that we have encountered any of your jumpships before,” Ulric mused out loud, wondering if Focht knew that it was a ComStar jumpship that had been captured over Huntress. He had not thought to ask Leo Showers about the specifics of the interrogations of the crew, that may have been an oversight. “However, we have apprehended several pirate jumpships in this area, it is possible that some of the other Clans may have mistaken your vessels. One jumpship does look very much like another.”
“Attacking jumpships at all is problematic,” the Precentor Martial warned. “All of the Successor States have agreed treaties limiting certain forms of warfare, in order avert a complete collapse of civilization. I will not claim that no jumpship has been attacked since, but a willingness to do so usually opens one to retaliation in kind, or using weapons and strategies that would normally cause outrage. I would prefer not to encourage the Great Houses to believe that they have no option but to use weapons of mass destruction.”
That, Ulric thought, escalated rather quickly. “We find that depriving bandits and their ilk of jumpships limits the problem they pose considerably. However, there is a distinction between doing that to pirates and to a peer. If your jumpships have been seized by other Clans, I will request their release. It might help me to arrange this if I knew more of your… organization?”
“We are an Order,” Focht corrected him, voice more mild. “Established by Jerome Blake, a close companion of Aleksandr Kerensky, after your ancestors followed the General upon his Exodus.”
Ulric’s eyes narrowed. This ComStar was far too knowledgeable about the Clans. Had the Wolf Dragoons been compromised?
“We play many roles within the Inner Sphere, working to maintain an interstellar civilization against the tide of destruction unleashed when the Star League fell,” the ComStar representative continued. “We preserve, we maintain and sometimes we rebuild. Where our strength allows, we defend - the ComGuards are far from equal in numbers to the armies of the Successor Lords but we can at least deal with threats like pirates at times.”
“Laudable,” the Khan offered. “You say that your founder was known to the Great Father - Aleksandr Kerensky, quiaff?”
“Blake was the leader of efforts to maintain the HPG network during the Amaris Civil War,” Focht explained. “After Amaris was defeated, he worked closely with Kerensky in relief efforts to rebuild the damage done during the war. His journals speak of Kerensky as a friend, regretting that the Exodus separated them. The first ComGuards were SLDF soldiers reluctant to leave the Exodus, charged instead to assist Blake in defending Terra and the Terran Hegemony. Unfortunately, it proved too late to do more than hold onto Terra.”
“I see,” Ulric observed. “And what do you do now? We have heard somewhat of ComStar but only in the sense of operating HPGs.”
Focht smiled. “That is what we’re best known for and it remains the core of our activities. Almost every world in or near the Inner Sphere has one of our HPGs. It provides for a secure means of communication since our stations are neutral ground.”
He frowned at this point, “Yes, this did concern me. How do you prevent the Successor Lords from seizing your HPGs so they can monopolize communications within their realms? I would not think that they appreciate your Order having that degree of influence.”
“They did try,” replied the old man. “However it became problematic when it came to communicating with each other and the HPGs on border worlds - or even deep within their territory - became strategic targets. HPGs under the control of the Great Houses were destroyed in considerable numbers, so when Jerome Blake began mediating the treaties that would end the First Succession War, he proposed that all the HPGs be restored to ComStar, to operate as a neutral organization. It was over a century before we could make good all the losses, even Conrad Toyama - Blake’s student and successor - didn’t live to see that work complete and we are still extending and improving our efforts.”
Ulric nodded slowly. “We operate our own HPGs, as you may have guessed.”
“We assumed that you retained the technology. If you wish to use ours, then that is open to you so long as you recognise their neutrality. We charge, which I suppose would need to be worked out, but in principle the option is there.”
“And if we choose not to?”
Focht smiled slightly. “Then do as the Successor Lords do with the few they hid away rather than hand back to us. They are kept a very close secret and guarded carefully, because if one is located it is only a matter of time before someone tries to eliminate them. We interdict - decline the use of our HPGs - to those who attack ComStar but other people’s HPGs are not under that protection.”
“Terms for using your HPGs may be useful,” Ulric said slowly. “A matter for negotiation. So your HPGs are defended only by the threat of being banned from them?”
“That would be rather impractical,” the white-haired man corrected him. “We must concern ourselves with pirates - who are no respecters of our neutrality - and there are always the irrational. Security varies with the expected hazards. Many of the HPG stations along the periphery border are well fortified. In fact, on many worlds there are enclaves that have simply grown up around the HPG stations, relying on us for protection as well as other services.”
“And the Successor Lords allow that as well? They must fight over the worlds, quiaff? I believe there is an entire realm in our vicinity that did not exist twenty years ago.”
“So long as those conflicts do not enter into the territory we claim, we simply observe. And when they have finished, we usually find there has been an influx of new residents whose existing homes have been lost. The population of our enclaves may be tiny in comparison to an entire Successor State,” Focht explained, “But many billions live in safety under our protection. That is no mean feat in the midst of the Succession Wars.”
“Neg, I find it remarkable.” Ulric stroked his beard. “You seem to be well informed regarding the Clans.”
“We have little current information,” the Precentor admitted openly. “Most of what we know comes from those who fled Nicholas Kerensky’s invasion of the Pentagon Worlds, over two hundred years.” He stopped. “If it would not cause offense, we are curious - was he really Aleksandr Kerensky’s son? We have no record of him having children before the Exodus, and he was rather old to father children by that time?”
Ulric stiffened. “He was indeed the son of Aleksandr Kerensky. I am his direct descendent. General Kerensky had hidden his family from his enemies, which proved foresightful when Amaris seized power. The Founder and his brother served their father during the first Exodus, and they led the Second Exodus away from the Pentagon worlds after his death.”
“It is often difficult for the children of a great man or woman to live up to such a legacy,” Focht observed. “But those who do rise are the more remarkable. Like Alexander the Great and Philip of Macedon.”
What planet is Macedon? wondered the Khan. “So, to return to our earlier topic of conversation, besides communications what does ComStar do?”
“We fill many of the same roles as the old Bureau of Star League Affairs, I suppose. Since most interstellar news and financial transactions pass through our HPGs, we took to providing our own news as a neutral point of view… well, depending on the Primus there.” Focht shook his head slightly. “I cannot say that some of our leaders haven’t stretched the definition of neutrality in the service to our overall mission. Similarly, ComStar operates its own bank as well as giving access to Terran banks that are independent of us but benefit from being based on a world under our protection.”
He shrugged. “Besides this, we operate a sizable jumpship fleet that carry cargos all across the Inner Sphere, particularly in border areas where commercial shipping has to concern themselves with being drafted for military purposes.”
“And were the jumpships that you’ve lost in this area involved in that sort of trade?” He wondered what the Diamond Sharks would make of that. And, for that matter, what was the Bureau of Star League Affairs?
“No,” admitted Focht. “We were looking for you. After all, if you’ve decided to make contact with the Inner Sphere after all this time, we may find ourselves asked to send messages to you. Or if your intentions are to wage war then we have something of an interest in establishing whether you are going to respect our neutrality.”
“And if we were not to?”
“Obviously,” the white-haired man said, “If you are going to try to seize our enclaves and other stations then we will defend ourselves. There is a reason that I have described the ComGuards only in broad terms. We do not go looking for fights, but there is a distinction between being peaceful and being helpless.”
“Enlighten me,” the Khan requested. “How would you define the difference?”
“The peaceful have the means to defend themselves: they are at peace when others dare not attack them, and because they do not themselves attack. The helpless have no such means and can only know peace when others give it to them.”
Ulric Kerensky considered that. Considered it very carefully. “As the heirs to the SLDF, our goal is to re-establish the Star League,” he said at last.
“Speaking as one of the last remnants of the Star League, we are not opposed to that,” Focht declared. “Of course, every Successor Lord has claimed to be doing so, as they name themselves First Lord. You will forgive us if we do not assume you will be more successful than they have been.”
“Among my people, I am considered a Warden. That means that I believe our purpose is to protect the Inner Sphere. To wage war on an organization that, as you describe it, has extended protection and aid to the people of the Inner Sphere, would go against my most sincere beliefs. I am not our overall leader, but I have some say. I will recommend that the Clans respect your neutrality, and I will have my own Clan do so.”
Now Focht bowed his head. “Thank you, Khan Kerensky. I hope that this is just the first of many contacts between our two peoples - long separated, but each keeping the flame of the Star League alive in our own ways.”
“Well said,” Ulric answered. Very well said. A flame could bring warmth and comfort, but it could also bring dreadful destruction. Which the Clans would prove remained to be decided… and the same might be said of ComStar. He had seen too much to believe that they were as benevolent as this warrior suggested.
Harlech, Outreach
Sarna, Federated Commonwealth
31 January 3050
Wei Rong’s ground-car was escorted to the conference by six of the new Hippogriff battlemechs, most of those completed so far. It was a statement of power: after decades of work the Successor States were just beginning to produce advanced versions of the Griffin from their own factories, but ComStar had been able to match this in a fraction of the time.
Where both the 3M and 1DS models of the Griffin increased the size of the shoulder-mounted missile launcher, Focht’s request had been for all-energy armament, copying the arrangement of the lasers used by the older 1RG variant but fitting them to the left arm rather than replacing the PPC. Before he left, the Precentor-Martial seemed very happy with the results provided by Skobel and hopefully it would seem impressive to those attending the conference. Wei’s own satisfaction came more from the fact that the Hippogriff was considerably less expensive than its cousins, meaning that it was on track to keep the budget under control.
She had stayed at the ‘Harlech HPG’, which despite the name had no actual HPGs. The actual ComStar enclave on Outreach was an island north of the continent, but the branch office in the planetary capital was the ‘face’ of the Order here, housing one of the largest offices of the Mercenary Review Board and plenty of quarters for visitors. The Dragoons had brought an economic resurgence to Outreach and when business was booming - particularly trade in military materials - communications were generally in demand.
Colonel Wolf was waiting for her at the door to the conference hall. “So we meet for the first time,” he greeted her and then looked up at the ‘Mechs. “Those are new?”
“Freshly built,” she confirmed. “Don’t ask me how they fit into the ComGuards’ doctrine, that’s not my field.”
“I would be more concerned with how they stand up to the Clans,” Wolf pointed out.
Wei shrugged. “We didn’t have that in mind when the design was commissioned. Our engineers are good, but it takes more than a few months for us to go from a design request to a new BattleMech ready to be deployed.”
They stepped inside and out of Outreach’s warmth. Though cooler than Terra overall, the worlds’ two continents were equatorial and thus it had a temperate climate year round, warmer than Wei was used to at Hilton Head. As the co-hosts of the conference, they had to arrive first but careful scheduling didn’t leave them waiting long.
James Teng was the first arrival, representing the Capellan Confederation, followed by Theodore Kauk. While Romano Liao had sent one of her senior military aides, Kauk was simply the Colonel of a nearby Marik Militia regiment. It suggested that the Free Worlds League wasn’t taking this conference very seriously. On the other hand, Overste Maggie Gundersen was simply the Free Rasalhague Republic’s representative at the mercenary hiring hall in Harlech - at least Thomas Marik had sent someone specifically for the conference.
The three colonels had just started speaking to each other quietly as they occupied one end of the table when the Federated Commonwealth delegate arrived. Marshal Alan Cline commanded the defenses of dozens of worlds, including Outreach. He was certainly the highest ranking attendee, even if he wasn’t as highly placed as the Capellan representative. Teng bristled at the sight of a woman in the uniform of St Ives among Cline’s aides.
“The media will be covering this event,” Wei mentioned before the Senior Colonel could protest about the inclusion of someone from the Capellan’s break-away commonality. “Let us avoid doing or saying anything that might affect the dignity of our nations.”
Arriving last was Tai-sa Ysabeau Johnson. The commander of the Ryuken-ni regiment bowed solemnly to Jaime Wolf when she entered the chamber. “Colonel Wolf. The Gunji-no-Kanrei has dispatched me here in the hope that this meeting will result in no misery.”
The phrasing was awkward, Wei thought, but it conveyed the meaning: when the Wolf Dragoons left (some would say were driven) from the service of House Kurita in 3028 the Ryuken regiments had been assigned to destroy them. Fought on the world of Misery, the result had been the near destruction of the Ryuken and heavy losses for the mercenaries. The commander of the Ryuken, fighting at the head of Johnson’s own Ryuken-ni regiment, had been one of Jaime Wolf’s closest friends. The tragedy had led to many repercussions and just being here risked the Coordinator’s displeasure with Johnson, even if it was at his son’s command.
Wolf returned the bow and replied in japanese. Wei claimed no particular fluency but the tone was complimentary and the DCMS officer seemed pleased.
The representatives and their staffs - where they had brought them - settled into their seats. Careful thought had gone into making sure that they weren’t close enough for quarreling, which left some difficult spacings.
Wei took the podium. “Ladies and gentlemen,” she began, “I regret that Colonel Wolf and I have had to be somewhat vague in the purpose of this conference.” Not least because she was the only head of state actually attending. She didn’t like to think she was getting too attached to her dignity, but it would have been convenient to speak to decision-makers. Well, there would probably be a next time. “As not all of our facts had been confirmed, we didn’t want to mislead anyone.”
“So why have you called us here?” Marshal Cline folded his arms across his chest.
“After an absence of two hundred and sixty-five years, the descendants of Aleksandr Kerensky’s Exodus Fleet are returning to the Inner Sphere,” Wei told him. “Their stated mission is to re-establish the Star League. This seems to be of some interest to everyone in the Inner Sphere.”
“Is this some sort of joke?” asked Colonel Kauk quietly.
Jaime Wolf stood. “No, Colonel. The Primus is entirely serious. Both her Order and my Dragoons have past history with the descendants of the SLDF. There is an army preparing to invade the Inner Sphere with the express intention of removing your governments from power. You are, to all practical purposes, facing the existence of a new Successor State and our latest information suggests that they may attack within a matter of weeks.”
Teng grunted in disdain. “How do you know this?”
“In the case of ComStar,” Wei told him, “We have sent missions to contact the Clans - as they call themselves - after they conquered the Oberon Confederacy, the Elysian Fields and the Greater Valkyriate last year. One of them finally made successful contact shortly before the new year. We had been broadly aware that Kerensky had founded colonies hundreds of light years away from the Inner Sphere for some time, but their arrival and the cultural changes were quite a surprise.” She looked at Wolf.
“The Wolf Dragoons,” he declared, “Were sent to the Inner Sphere by some of the Clans fifty years ago to investigate whether we should re-establish contact. Based on our reports, the decision was no. Frankly, they didn’t think you were a threat.” Wolf smiled, somewhat wolfishly. “For our part, the Dragoons were happier here in the Inner Sphere. We’d been in the Inner Sphere for fifteen years at that point, and most of us were much happier here. I don’t think we’d really have been all that welcome if we returned anyway.”
Cline sat up sharply. “You were spying on us?”
Wei sighed. “The Dragoons are mercenaries, Marshal. One of their regiments is currently under contract with the Free Worlds League, and they’ve previously worked for - and against - every Great House. Does learning they had a previous employer really come as a surprise?”
“That’s different from them taking a contract with us, while actually acting on someone else’s behalf!”
“We never fought for anyone other than our current employer,” Wolf declared flatly. “Even when the Draconis Combine turned upon us, we waited for the contract to expire before taking anything but defensive actions. If sharing information we gathered mostly from public sources and our own operations constitutes betrayal, it will come as a surprise to hundreds of mercenary units that go in and out of employment every year.”
“I discussed this with the Mercenary Review Board,” Wei added. “Their lawyers have checked the Dragoons’ contracts and records. There’s nothing there to indicate that the Wolf Dragoons were doing anything that their contracts prohibited - and Ian Davion wasn’t such a fool as to hire on five regiments of total unknowns without putting some fairly restrictive clauses into their first contract.”
Tai-sa Johnson leant forwards. “I believe that Lord Kurita will take a dim view of Colonel Wolf’s ties to the Clans.” She paused just long enough to let everyone make the mental leap (more of a hop) that Takashi Kurita took a dim view of anything Jaime Wolf did, including breathing. Particularly that. “However, that is a matter for our political leaders. You said that the Clans are about to attack and stated that they currently control the bandit kingdoms corewards of the Free Rasalhague Republic and Lyran Commonwealth. That is some distance from the departure point of the Exodus Fleet. Where will the attack fall?” The two points were neatly to either side of the Draconis Combine, something that evidently concerned her.
Jaime Wolf frowned. “Unfortunately we were not entrusted with the exact locations of the Clan homeworlds, although they are corewards of the Inner Sphere. Their current location strongly suggests that the Free Rasalhague Republic will take the brunt of the attack, along with the Tamar March of the Federated Commonwealth and Alshain District in the Draconis Combine.”
Overste Gundersen leant forwards angrily. “Because you reported us as a weak target?”
“No, Overste. Our last report was from before the Republic existed. If they were working from our reports, they would know your region of space as a heavily fortified and garrisoned border region.” Wolf shook his head. “And we do not know the Clan’s strategy. It is possible they will specifically strike at one state first, or that they will try to bypass worlds they see as insignificant to target more important targets.”
“How much of a threat do they pose?” asked Cline, refocusing on this idea. “Kerensky took hundreds of regiments with him on the Exodus.”
“We have some footage, courtesy of the Kell Hounds, that should give you all some insight into the Clans’ capabilities,” Wei told him. She’d anticipated this question.
The lights dimmed and everyone present - those at the table and the media in the gallery - was granted a view of Phelan Kell’s doomed struggle against Clan Wolf. How informed the various reporters might be was something Wei could only guess at, but each delegation was headed by a mechwarrior who knew exactly how much Kell had been out-classed.
“For something that looks as if a Catapult mated with a Marauder, that is an impressive warmachine,” Colonel Teng admitted cautiously, looking up at the final image. “If this is accurate.”
“It is,” Jaime Wolf confirmed. “The Dragoons were equipped from stockpiles of equipment considered obsolete by the Clans - and we still had some of the finest battlemechs in the Inner Sphere when we arrived. If we hadn’t made rapid modifications, we would have been immediate targets for using as much lostech as the ComGuards do.” He smiled slyly at Wei.
“Not being a soldier myself, I could not comment,” she parried.
He nodded. “What you’re looking at is an omnimech known as the Timber Wolf,” he told the meeting. “It was designed by Clan Wolf just over a hundred years ago and it’s the backbone of their heavy ‘mech forces, in much the same way that the Dragon and more recently Grand Dragon are represented in the DCMS.” Wolf took up a control wand and overlaid additional data onto the image.
“The Timber Wolf has a ground speed comparable to a Griffin or Dragon, though not quite as fast as the current production of the Grand Dragon. Its armor is comparable to that of a Battlemaster assault ‘mech. The cooling system is on par with that of an Awesome, allowing it to use its firepower to full effect.”
“Yes, and that’s a remarkable amount of firepower,” agreed Kauk. “That looks like forty LRM tubes across both launchers, then a large laser and medium laser in each arm?”
“And the lasers were hitting at much more range than I expected,” Gundersen agreed, a worried look on her face. “Kell got close, but before that the initial targets were being hit from beyond what I would normally consider effective range. Significantly beyond.”
Wolf nodded respectfully. “Clan weapons technology has advanced beyond that of the Star League. Their weapons are lighter, more compact, hit harder and do so at greater range. In many ways, this is where we - they - have advanced furthest. And before you ask, I cannot share that technology. Just as we were not entrusted with the navigational data for our homeworlds, we brought with us only the knowledge to maintain the older equipment we came with. If we had the ability to build omnimechs like the Timber Wolf - or the Hellbringers that you saw in the background earlier - then I could have rebuilt my Dragoons into a force that could seize any world in the Inner Sphere.” He paused. “But even five regiments of Dragoons can only be spread so thin. The Clans have a qualitative advantage, but they are far from their homeworlds so the number of units they can bring to bear will be relatively small.”
“You used the word Omnimech earlier, twice in fact,” noted Kauk. “I don’t understand its significance.”
The mercenary switched to another overlay, highlighting the weapons that the Marik officer had identified. “Omnitechnology is the centerpiece of Clan logistics. These weapons are mounted in detachable pods. In the event of damage - or if the current weapons payload isn’t suited to tactical needs - a technical crew can switch out the pods almost as quickly as armor can be repaired. So long as replacement weapon pods are available and no major structural damage has been suffered, an omnimech can be repaired and reloaded far faster than a conventional battlemech.”
“Oh wonderful. That must give them a much higher operational tempo,” Cline grumbled. “I suppose next you’ll tell me that it’s a Land-Air ‘Mech as well.”
“No,” Wolf assured him. “Although jump-jets, electronic warfare equipment and similar specialist hardware can be fitted in place of weapons. And if the available pods do not fit the needs then preparing new ones is just as cumbersome as you would expect.”
“Wonderful.” Colonel Teng leant back in his seat and smiled a little smugly at Cline. “And how many of these amazing machines are likely to be deployed against the Federated Commonwealth, Rasalhague and Draconis Combine?”
“Our information suggests that only four of the Clans are involved in the invasion. It’s possible others haven’t arrived yet though,” Wolf answered.
“How many Clans are there in total?”
“There were seventeen when I last made contact,” the mercenary told Tai-sa Johnson. “I have no reason to believe that it has changed.”
“It is unlikely,” Wei confirmed. “My representative met with their Grand Council - their equivalent of the Free Worlds League’s parliament, with two seats for each of the Clans. There were thirty-five khans, which would translate to seventeen Clans plus one for their ilKhan. The equivalent of their Captain-General, if you will.”
“Khans? Do they think they’re the mongol hordes?” asked Kauk derisively. “They don’t sound like the SLDF at all.”
“The original SLDF was torn apart by national affiliations,” Wei explained. “The founder of the Clans imposed a new social order and adopted ranks and titles that were used by none of them.”
“We are getting away from the point,” Gundersen snapped. “How many of those -” she jabbed a finger at the display of the Timber Wolf, “- are bearing down upon Rasalhague?”
“The standard tactical unit of the Clans is the Cluster,” Wolf told her. “The Black Widow battalion’s unique organization of five-strong lances mirrors that - typically forty-five or fifty battlemechs, supported by aerospace and infantry assets. Given the technological disparity, each Cluster is equivalent to a full regiment of the Inner Sphere - perhaps more. I would say that most Clans have between forty and sixty clusters and the four Clans participating are all relatively powerful. Assuming they send half their forces, which would be a considerable logistical challenge, the Clans we know of could deploy potentially a hundred and twenty Clusters for the invasion.”
Teng whistled slowly. “I believe the only thing I can say is ‘I’m glad I’m not you’,” he told Gundersen. The entire Capellan Confederation’s Armed Forces could barely field thirty regiments fit for frontline service, even including their contracted mercenaries.”
“That isn’t helpful,” she spat. The Kungsarme of Rasalhague was barely half the size of the CCAF, at least in terms of regular battlemech regiments. And like every army in the Inner Sphere, their equipment fell far below the standards of the SLDF, much less what the Clans were demonstrating.
“I wasn’t trying to be,” Teng replied. “If the Clans get as far as the Confederation, I can only hope they’ve spent every bit of their supplies butchering the rest of you, because otherwise they’ll roll right over us. Unless…” He looked at Wei. “Will ComStar be committing to this? Your brigades are the largest concentration of lostech equipment in the Inner Sphere. I assume that you’re also manufacturing it, from those shiny new Battlemechs outside.”
“For now I believe we’re of more value to the Inner Sphere as a neutral body,” Wei told him. The First Circuit was, unsurprisingly, unwilling to abandon the traditional stance of ComStar. If nothing else, millions of people lived in the Orders enclaves on worlds that the Clans would almost certainly take.
“Typical,” Cline spat.
“However, one of the reasons I came here was to oversee negotiations to license our new Hippogriff to Earthwerk Incorporated, and to Kallon Industries. As the primary manufacturers of the Griffin, they were very interested in refitting their factories to provide us with spare parts and entire ‘mechs should we suddenly need an influx of replacement battlemechs or supplies. While ComStar does reserve a right of first purchase under the terms of the licensing, I don’t believe we’ll be needing those ‘mechs right away - it’s more of a contingency for if the current factory provides insufficient.” Wei smiled sweetly. “I imagine they… and any other manufacturers who purchase a license, might sell to… anyone else willing to pay.”
Between them, Earthwerks and Kallon operated factories across most of the Inner Sphere. The Griffin alone was built at five different factories under their ownership. Wei saw calculations going on behind the eyes of both Cline and Kauk - the primary beneficiaries of this would be the Free Worlds League and Federated Commonwealth.
“Neutrality, in the style of ComStar,” Teng muttered.
“You don’t have to buy them if you don’t want to,” Kauk snapped.
“And the Wolf Dragoons will share our information on SLDF hardware,” Wolf offered. “As well as recognition guides and what we can remember about the Clan’s equipment.”
“That will also help.” Johnson inclined her head respectfully.
-
Wei tapped a control, removing the Timber Wolf from the display. “I do have one other piece of footage that I’d like to share today. Not technical data, but it may give you an insight into the thinking of the Clans’ leadership.”
Jaime Wolf frowned slightly. “What is this?”
“Precentor Focht recorded his meeting with the Clans’ grand council,” she told him.
His eyes widened and then he stepped back slightly. “Go ahead.”
The display lit up again, showing a compact compartment that was crammed with seating for more than thirty individuals, clad in a wild melange of animal themed uniforms. A throne and a desk were positioned facing them, both occupied.
“The man on the throne is ilKhan Leo Showers,” Wei told the meeting. “The warleader of the Clans. Behind the desk is Edmund Hoyt, their loremaster - essentially the chief judicial officer. The seats hold the Khans of each Clan. Note - even though we only know four Clans have come to the Inner Sphere, the leaders of every other Clan has traveled with them.”
The display closed in, evidently recorded by a discreet camera on the person of someone in the room.
“Precentor Focht,” a bearded man wearing a wolfshead helmet invited. “Please make your case.”
A deep voice spoke from near the camera. “I am told that the heirs of Kerensky appreciate directness, so I shall speak bluntly. “The khans of Clan Jade Falcon have confirmed capturing three jumpships and their associated dropships belonging to ComStar. What must I do to have those ships and their crews returned to us?”
“Why should we return our isorla to you at all?” a man clad in green sneered. “Why should we listen to some mystic who squats in our path? You and your organization are even less relevant than the Scavenger Lords.”
The camera shifted slightly. “From what I have learned of your people, ComStar would represent something more akin to the Free Guilds who help to hold the Clans in unity without being pledged to any one Clan. We, like you, are what has grown from one of the pillars that once supported the Star League. If you do not respect that legacy, then what do you respect?”
“Enough!” barked Showers, cutting off any rejoinder from the Khan. “We have voted on this, Malthus. ComStar is recognised as a separate body - just as each of our Clans is free to chart its own path within our laws. If someone won the enclave your Clan hold on Huntress, would that give them claim on the rest of the world? Expecting ComStar to surrender their enclaves because you beat a garrison that holds the rest of the planet was never reasonable. If you want them, you must bid specifically for those enclaves.”
“But nor is it reasonable for them to be given back what we took in Trials of Possession,” Malthus pointed out. “We bid and claimed those ships through our strength of arms.”
The ilKhan nodded. “And on that we agree. But there will be no insults upon the Star League and its memory.”
Focht spoke again. “My understanding is that I may challenge Clan Jade Falcon for the possession of the ships and crews, is that correct?”
“You would challenge me?” laughed Malthus. “You are an old man. Far past your prime.”
“War is a young man’s game,” the Precentor agreed. “Perhaps you should respect those who survive it to become old men.”
Malthus strode forwards. “I accept your challenge. I will crush you here.” There was a flutter of approval from the other Khans.
Focht turned to the occupant of the throne. “With your permission, ilKhan?”
Showers gestured scornfully. “By all means.”
“Very well. As Khan Malthus has chosen the venue, I believe I may choose the means of battle?”
The room went still. The sitting Khan in green visibly grimaced, while the man who had welcomed Focht brightened. “That is correct,” he asserted.
“It is normal that the challenger arrives at the prize,” the loremaster said thoughtfully, “Thus defining the venue, and leaving the defender the right to set the forces for the Trial.”
“Exactly,” agreed Malthus.
“However,” Hoyt added, “You are the one who insisted on the venue. And there is recent precedent that a defender may preemptively choose the venue, giving the challenger the choice of means.”
Wei wasn’t sure what was going on with that but it seemed to turn a lot of accusing eyes towards four Khans in particular.
“The Precentor has the right of it,” Hoyt concluded. “You bid poorly, Malthus. Now it is his turn.”
“I choose go,” Focht declared. “Your ship’s recreational system should be able to provide the means, Khan Kerensky.”
“Of course,” the man in gray agreed quickly and Wei shut the recording down.
“I won’t make you sit through the game,” she told the meeting. “We got our ships back.”
“They accepted a trial by… board game?” Marshal Cline exclaimed.
“Trial by combat is the final legal resort to any dispute among the Clans,” Jaime Wolf told them. “Although non-warriors usually choose other means to compare their skill. If Focht had let Malthus define the terms, he would probably have been beaten to death… but the Precentor outsmarted him. That is your chance.”
Wei nodded. “And one other point to take away. That meeting was aboard a ship.”
“Yes?” asked Gundersen. “I assumed as much from the fixtures.”
“I didn’t say it was a dropship,” Wei told her. “They were aboard a Sovetskii Soyuz-class heavy cruiser… a Star League era warship. The Clans have a warfleet and I don’t think any of you do.”
Silver Lake, Susequehanna
Rasalhague Province, Free Rasalhague Republic
12 March 3050
Sarah Weaver cursed as she chased after the faster ‘mechs from the ComGuards.
It would have been vastly easier if the light ‘mechs had engaged their weight peers, but for some reason the Mist Lynx and Arctic Cheetahs of her trinary had been engaged almost immediately by the heavy armor battalion from the planetary militia, leaving them tied down engaging the tanks.
There was no doubt that the Star she’d detached for that was going to win, but that left her chasing after ‘mechs much faster than hers that were shooting only at long range, before falling further back to break contact until they could engage again.
Three of them had fallen so far, but it was looking very much as if the rest would slip away into the heavy cover of the woods ahead. Terrain where their shorter-range weapons would be less of a problem and where her heavier Timber Wolf might be more hampered.
“The cowards are escaping us, my Khan.”
“I noticed that,” she snarled. “Bring them down!”
The ComGuard’s Hussars, Hermes and Mongoose battlemechs were no different from the sort of trash that would be deployed by poorer Clans in their garrison units. Even a single hit from her large lasers would cripple them, but they were also fast enough to be difficult targets.
One of the mechwarriors made the mistake of staying in view long enough for Sarah to lock on with her LRMs. She fired a full salvo the moment the crosshairs went gold and her both Timber Wolf’s missile launchers spat twenty missiles up into the air.
The Hermes dodged wildly, trying to get away. If she was inclined to give a spheroid credit, Sarah might have conceded some skill on their part as one volley of missiles lost lock and went wild.
But the other did not and more than half the missiles smashed into the thin armor of a ‘mech that relied on speed not durability for survival. The ‘mech lit up on thermal sensors as its reactor vented, the shielding destroyed. No longer able to evade, it fell prey to a further wave of missiles from Sarah’s mech.
Another kill. Not that she was planning to count. Spheroid ‘mechs died too easily for it to be worthwhile.
The Smoke Jaguar saKhan might have felt more satisfaction if she wanted to fight the ComGuards. Not that she was favorably inclined towards the warriors or the civilians that they perversely chose to serve. They were just another blight on the Inner Sphere, and would need to be erased eventually.
But the key word was eventually. One of the most basic precepts of strategy was to divide enemies and engage them a few at a time. So long as ComStar was content to meekly provide their services to the Clans and keep their inexperienced warriors divided into penny-packets, they could be swept up at leisure. There was no need to confront them until the Successor Lords were smashed and Terra lay at the feet of the ilKhan.
Lincoln Osis thought otherwise, stating that ComStar was weak enough to be picked up at the same time as the defenders of each world, and that their weakness made them unworthy to be trusted with the communications of Clan Smoke Jaguar. It would hardly be unlike the Diamond Sharks and other Clans prone to underhanded behavior to pry data out ComStar’s hands… and then there were the Scavenger Lords.
It was hard to argue against that point, and to a point Sarah agreed with him. ComStar’s day would come. But in the meantime, the number of Hyperpulse Generators in the possession of Clan Smoke Jaguars was limited and much of their reserve was committed to maintaining connections back to the homeworlds. All four of the invading Clans were competing to acquire additional units from the Clans with the facilities to build them - even Clan Diamond Shark, who were one of the major manufacturers.
If I had been back there, Sarah thought. I could have won the trials for possessing the units we need to do without ComStar.
But the fact was, she was not. Clan Smoke Jaguar had committed all their best warriors to the Invasion, where Clan Diamond Shark had retained one frontline galaxy there and it had let them beat off almost every Trial of Possession the Smoke Jaguar garrison units attempted. ComStar’s HPGs were needed… and the senior Khan of Clan Smoke Jaguar did not trust them, at least not while ComStar was operating them.
And so here she was, fighting a pack of cowardly ComGuards who had abandoned the heavy tanks of the militia to die and…
“Khan Weaver!”
The shout came on the trinary command channel, not from anyone in her own Star. Sarah twisted the control that moved her own transmission to that channel. “Report.”
“This is Baker-Three. The enemy tank force is crippled, but the ComGuards aerospace fighters have returned and we have no cover!”
“Do not panic!” she ordered, thinking rapidly. Her own aerospace fighters were outnumbered, she only had two compared to four in the ComGuards bid, but surely Clan pilots should at least be able to keep that many busy! Unfortunately, most of her lighter ‘mechs had insufficient long-range firepower to effectively deter air attacks. “Take cover and coordinate with our own pilots.”
“Khan, our aerospace support is not responding. I must assume they are no longer combat effective. And there is no cover here!”
She had accepted the choice of battlefield because there was little cover for ambushes and other underhanded tactics. Aside from the forests, there was little enough… Wait, the lake. “Take cover in the water,” she directed them. “You will need to wait until we can regroup. Orders understood, quiaff?”
“Aff, my Khan,” the junior warrior reported.
And for that matter… “Why is Baker-One not communicating this?”
“Baker-One has fallen.”
“Stravag!” she screamed. Losing a warrior to militia and a token aerospace element, while she was chasing after a few cowards…
Forcing calm on herself, she switched back to her own Star. “They think the forest will cover them, but the Smoke Jaguar is a predator born for such terrain.”
The Smoke Jaguars extended their line as they reached trees, ensuring they would each have sufficient room to maneuver through the heavy forest. Smashing aside the trees would be plausible, but it would also eventually ablate away some of the foamed metal armor used on their ‘mechs and make their positions obvious. Not ideal for a hunting party.
Sarah felt her lips draw back from her lips as she waited for the remaining ComGuards to emerge. They had nowhere to go, unless they exited the forest from the farside, something that would be counted as a concession.
If that happened, a full binary of Elementals would drop from a dropship orbiting above the HPG station, taking the surrender or taking the Hyperpulse Generator, whichever was easiest. The city that had grown up around the complex might delay getting reinforcements to them but Sarah was sure she would be able to get there in time. The city around it - marked on the maps as Star City - was large, but it sprawled inefficiently and lacked defensive walls like the other settlements on this world. In fact, other than the HPG station and the associated ComGuards garrison fort, there were no defenses at all.
Star City wasn’t quite the largest city Sarah had ever come across, but it came close. Katyusha was larger (and certainly far better organized), but nowhere on Huntress was close. This was a rich world, a great addition to the Smoke Jaguar’s domain. Star City - suitably renamed and reorganized - might even have been worthy to be their capital here, if it were not for Terra.
Were there even greater worlds and cities deeper into the Inner Sphere? This was merely one of their first conquests, after all. It was the edge of the Inner Sphere. Terra must surely be even grander. Unity City - the heart of the entire Star League - that ancient capital must be even grander than Katyusha!
Thinking of future glories was not enough to distract the Khan from one of her ‘mechs suddenly dropping off the tactical map. A few instants later, she heard a detonation. “Charlie-One!” she snapped. “Report!”
“Able One, this is Charlie-One,” the Star Commander reported. “Charlie-Two’s transponder is gone, the explosion was from her location. I am investigating.”
“Move cautiously, this could be an ambush!” She turned her Timber Wolf aside, shifting to advance further towards Charlie Star only to pause as something caught her eye. “Able, Charlie Stars - take defensive positions. Elementals! Dismount and establish a perimeter.” She focused one of her video sensors on the wire she had spotted. “The enemy has seeded the forest with traps for us.”
So it was not cowardice, she thought. The ComGuards sacrificed their allies, but they have done so to draw my most powerful units into the same sort of pre-prepared terrain that handed Lincoln Osis his only defeat during the Revival Trials. I should thank the Goliath Scorpions - perhaps Trial for the genetic legacy of their Cateran Cluster’s commander, so that his bloodline lives on within the future ilClan.
There was a second explosion, closer but lesser in magnitude than the last. None of her ‘mechs reported damage or vanished from the display, but one of the Elementals had apparently found one of those traps the hard way.
“Able-One, Charlie-Two’s Warhawk fell into a pit lined with vibromines. It may be salvageable, but Charlie-Two is confirmed as dead.”
The loss of a bloodnamed warrior in such a way set Sarah’s teeth on edge. “Mark the location, then pull back to the edge of the forest.” She consulted the weather and bared her teeth as she found the wind-direction was acceptable - if not quite ideal. “And set as many fires as you can on the way.”
While she had no flamers mounted on her Timber Wolf, Sarah’s lasers and missiles were quite sufficient to set trees alight - and several Elementals were carrying flamers in place of their lasers. The result was that by the time she backed out of the trees, there were blazing trees across a stretch of forest at least a kilometer across.
“All units clear of the forest,” the Star Commander reported.
“Good. If the defenders flee, we will march on the HPG. If they fight, we kill them.” An alarm let her know that the surviving ComGuards aerospace fighters were moving on them now that Baker Star was - she assumed - under the cover of the lake’s water. “And destroy those fighters if they come into range.”
Sarah tilted her Timber Wolf’s torso back and swung her weapons up to aim in the direction of the inbound aerospace fighters. Unlike the light ‘mechs that were being bullied earlier by the fighters, she had four weapon systems with the reach to pose a threat if they came low enough to strafe her position - two extended range large lasers and a pair of missile launchers.
Rather than closing in, the fighters circled out of range. “What are they doing?” Sarah wondered out loud.
“My khan,” Able-Four suggested. “It is possible they are reporting our positions to the enemy ground forces so they can escape from the forest without us detecting them.”
She grimaced. That was possible. If she spread out enough to cover the entire edge of the forest then it was possible the ComGuards could overcome some of her force in detail. It hadn’t occurred to her that they would try to exit the forest without engaging her ‘mechs. But it was possible they might have prepared other locations to fight from.
“I have no choice then.” Switching to the command frequency, Sarah addressed Star Colonel Perez of the 267th Battle Cluster - the officer she’d bid against to win the right to carry out this attack. “Diane, the enemy have proven wily. I must request terms to bring in forces up to my previous bid in order to avoid wasteful losses.” She hated doing this.
“You have already lost Baker Star, my khan. I would say that you have already incurred wasteful losses.” Diane Perez sounded unreasonably smug. “In order to serve our Clan’s interests I will cede you the right to bring in the stated reinforcements in return for your assurance to withhold your command trinary from bids to participate in the second wave.”
Sarah slammed her fist against the console. Forcing her to sit out of the next attacks? That was savage! Then her mind caught up, what did she mean Baker Star had been lost?
When she checked her display, she had lost contact with all four of the remaining ‘mechs in Baker Star. How had that happened? Focusing on the immediate threat must have kept her from noticing. “Bargained well and done, Star Colonel.” She switched channels and ordered in the other eight fighters of the star she’d drawn on for her previous air support. “Star Commander, you are cleared to engage,” she told them. “I want aerial dominance and reconnaissance.”
“Aff, my Khan. We will be overhead in five minutes.”
As tempting as it was to demand they be faster, Sarah restrained herself. Trying to micromanage pilots had never worked out for her.
Instead she grouped her own Star up and marched westwards, sending Charlie Star east. With each star concentrated they should be more than able to withstand any counterattack, and by moving further from the woods they would not be caught off guard.
The fighters circled above, but still didn’t dare try to engage against either Star. Sarah could see the moment that they saw the eight vengeful fighters of Clan Smoke Jaguar bearing down upon them, for the pair of Ironsides turned and boosted upwards to meet them.
No, whatever else she could say of them, it would not be accurate to call the ComGuards cowards - and to have managed equal kills in the air, their pilots were clearly more capable than their mechwarriors.
“Khan Weaver,” Charlie-One called her. “The enemy are trying to break out to the east. We are moving to intercept.”
Of course they would attack the weaker of my Stars, Sarah thought. But there was nothing else for it. Wheeling her Timber Wolf, she pushed it to maximum speed to reinforce the four Omnimechs and their supporting elementals.
As her little command raced into battle, her tactical map lit up. There were more ‘mechs than she had expected, and dozens of combat vehicles with them. Reflexively she dodged to the side a moment before a Demon heavy tank lined up its main gun and the gauss rifle slug blurred past her ‘mech. Returning fire, Sarah ripped open its side with her lasers, before her missiles ripped through what remained of the armor and gutted the sixty-ton vehicle.
Fortunately, most of the heavier vehicles were far less capable than the elderly tank. Her warbook threw names at her that she didn’t recognise, a tank with four autocannon in the turret hurling streamers of tracer towards her. One struck home but Sarah declined to engage it as a point of Elementals were already swarming over the ‘Partisan’. Instead she drew a bead upon a Chevalier light tank and blew it apart with another full salvo, sending her heat spiking.
A Sentinel turned away from Charlie-Four’s Mad Dog, which it had been blasting at without regard for honorable combat, since two other ComGuard ‘mechs were also firing at the heavy omnimech.
Sarah snarled as shells from the ultra autocannon ripped into the left arm of her Timber Wolf and closed in faster. Spheroids seemed to think that this made them safer from her missiles for some reason and the Sentinel pilot made the same mistake, angling to try to avoid fire from the lasers in her right arm.
Sparing her heat, Sarah used only the left arm lasers and both LRM racks to fire into the smaller ‘mech. She’d faced Sentinels before and knew they were inferior machines. The SLDF had only used them in secondary roles and the barrage of missiles at point blank range smothered this one in explosions, shredding armor across its front in many places. Her laser struck one of these breaches with clinical precision and ripped apart the right side of the rounded torso, dropping the right arm and its autocannon into the long grass as the structural supports for the shoulder were severed.
The Sentinel pilot lowered his left shoulder and raced closer with suicidal resolve. Not sure what his purpose was, Sarah tried to cut away, planning to turn and rake his rear. However, the ComGuard moved into her turn and rammed his forty-ton machine into her own.
The impact was tooth-jarring and Sarah had to fight to keep her ‘mech upright. The Sentinel was also staggered, having struck something much larger than it. But the pilot drew back the one arm that their ‘mech had left and then tried to punch Sarah’s cockpit.
Who did that?!
Skipping the heavy omnimech back, Sarah brought up the weapon pods of her arms and centered her crosshairs over the Sentinel’s cockpit. She was so unaccustomed to fighting at this sort of range that even though she could almost see the ComGuards mechwarrior through the glass, her left arm lasers missed low - ripping into the interior of the Sentinel’s chest.
The right arm did not miss and the two lasers clawed through the comparatively thin protection, ripping through the cockpit’s electronics as well as the mechwarrior inside.
The Sentinel collapsed and Sarah had no time to worry about it - Charlie-Four’s Mad Dog was on the ground with both legs savaged. One of its opponents was also on the floor, but the Lancelot was trying to pick off elementals with its PPC and lasers.
Sarah dropped her crosshairs over the angular ‘mech and cycled through the lasers deliberately, firing one after the other, carving slash after slash across the center mass. Once she saw the inner workings of the Lancelot - and it had turned its weapons against her, carving away armor from the Timber Wolf’s chest, right leg and right arm - she triggered her missiles.
The bulk of the missiles wasted themselves against the heavy ‘mech’s armor or missed, but several found the gaps she’d carved and the Lancelot stumbled, tumbled and crashed to the ground as the gyro proved to be in no state to keep it upright.
Sarah looked for another target, and saw that there were no remaining ComGuards ‘mechs upright and few of their vehicles were still moving. Around a few armored personnel carriers, infantry were firing at a vastly smaller number of elementals, but the missiles and lasers of the elementals were wreaking havoc on the ComGuards. As she watched, one Elemental got close enough to use his flamer and three of the infantry were turned into screaming torches for the brief moment until someone (ComGuards or Smoke Jaguar, she was unsure) mercifully put them out of their misery.
Looking up, she saw no sign of the hostile aerospace fighters. “Star Commander Holland, what is your status?” she demanded.
“Both hostiles downed, one of my own returning to base for repairs,” the pilot replied. “We see a binary of enemy ‘mechs near the lake, I am moving to engage.”
Near the lake? No doubt that explained what had happened to Baker Star, Sarah thought. Were they waiting under the water? This entire battle was a trap!
She fired into a vehicle that her warbook claimed was a Vedette tank. It blew up almost immediately, but there was no satisfaction to it.
“ComGuards,” she called on the general channel. “This is saKhan Sarah Weaver of Clan Smoke Jaguar. I offer you the chance to surrender.”
After a moment, during which she wondered if there would be a reply at all, a raspy voice spoke up. “This is Adept-Maniple Collins. Are you offering us retreat… hegira, I mean?”
“Neg.” Sarah idly traced the signal back to a battered Wyvern that was trying to bring itself upright, despite one leg being gone at the hip, while the other ended just below its knee. She waved off Charlie-Five when the mechwarrior seemed about to gun the crippled ‘mech down. “We will take you as bondsman. But I will not let you go to fight again.”
“You haven’t beaten us all,” the man offered in half-hearted defiance. “The Regal Death are still on the field.”
“If you mean the ‘mechs by the lake, our aerospace fighters are already on them. They will not last much longer.”
“You bloody bitch,” Collins said bitterly. “Your bid was just two fighters.”
Sarah snorted. “Rejoice. You forced a Khan of Clan Smoke Jaguar to break her bid. I will bear that humiliation for the rest of my life. But it does not change anything. Clan Smoke Jaguar will take this world, and your enclave, and the HPG - and there is nothing you can do to stop us. The only question is how many of you we kill before that is done.”
Collins chuckled darkly. “Well, two out of three isn’t bad.”
Sarah snapped her lasers into line with the Wyvern. “I am trying to be reasonable, but if I have to kill everyone here to let the next spheroid to fight me know that I’m serious…”
“Oh, you have our surrender.” Collins’ Wyvern ceased moving and she saw the reactor begin to cool. “But you don’t have the HPG.”
“Stop speaking in riddles.”
“When you brought in more forces than agreed,” the Adept-Maniple told her, “So did we. Specifically, Precentor Rochefort and a quarter ton of demolition charges.”
Sarah stared at him. “What did you demolish?”
“Like I said. Two out of three. You may have Susquehanna and our enclave, but the HPG is so much smoking wreckage.”
For an instant Sarah hovered on the very edge of killing Collins. Then she forced herself to release the triggers. “I will kill your Precentor for this treachery.”
“Too late. Precentors take far more stringent oaths than we do,” he replied. “Rochefort would have been right next to the charges. If you wanted the HPG, you should have stuck to your bid.”
“That is not how trials work!” she shouted in frustration.
A light lit up on her console. An inbound message with high priority. “Charlie-One, take charge,” she ordered. “Star Captain Ott, secure the HPG station.” Then she hit the controls to accept the inbound message. “This is Khan Weaver.”
“You disappoint me, Sarah.” The familiar voice of Leo Showers filled her cockpit.
“IlKhan, the spheroid’s treachery is…”
“That is not under your control,” he cut her off. “And ComStar has more resolve than we expected. That they destroyed the HPG on the first excuse they found is something we will have to consider, but that is no fault of yours. What disappoints me is that you bid so poorly. Their first view of Clan Smoke Jaguar is of weakness, and that is where you bear the blame.”
“Aff, my ilKhan,” she whispered.
“We will save face for the Clan,” he instructed her. “Secure the bondsmen and they will be interrogated until we know everything they do of ComStar. For now, we have no choice but to tolerate them.”
“Khan Osis will not accept that.”
“Lincoln Osis will obey me or I will replace him,” Showers told her flatly. “The Smoke Jaguars are mine. And until you redeem yourself, do not think that I will see you elevated to senior Khanship.” He paused. “You will have until the third wave to think of a way to show that you are better than this, Sarah. I suggest that you find one. I will not see your weakness deny us our rightful place as the ilClan.”
The channel went dead and Sarah Weaver made sure her microphone was turned off before unleashing a scream of frustrated rage at her superiors, her enemies and her own failure.
-
maybe a company like Skobel can sell DHS on the "open market". They might be on Terra but they are not part of comstar. if the invading clans can claim parts, mech, and even jumpships from other clans. than this should be legal....or legalish. oh and DHS are not weapons. Comstar could use those funds for other things...ie more and better mechs.
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The defeats in placement trials seem to have spurred the Jaguars to err on the side of aggression even more than usual, so even with an easier corridor, they will still find a way to get themselves behind the Wolves.
It was really mindscrewing seeing a Primus of Comstar defending Wolf.
What planet is Macedon? wondered the Khan.
Well, I reckon most people know very little of pre-spaceflight history of humanity
And, for that matter, what was the Bureau of Star League Affairs?
Actually scratch that, Ulric is amongst the more knowledgeable clan warriors, this just shows how mono-manic their upbringing is, not to mention their lives as adults. They venerate the Star League yet their knowledge of it is but Kerensky + SLDF = Good, Amaris = Bad.
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Or that they didn’t realize that Kerensky worked with Blake and that it was agreed several SLDF regiments stayed behind.
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... And the Smoke Jaguars found a new and exciting way to shoot themselves in the foot, just as we expected them to.
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Well, I reckon most people know very little of pre-spaceflight history of humanity
Remember the bit where Jamie Wolf and Grayson Carlyle replay the Battle of Gettysburg with mechs? And mention in passing how people still debate if the Visitor's Center of the Park was there when the battle took place? Yeah. Very much "Diana, Warrior Princess".
Actually scratch that, Ulric is amongst the more knowledgeable clan warriors, this just shows how mono-manic their upbringing is, not to mention their lives as adults. They venerate the Star League yet their knowledge of it is but Kerensky + SLDF = Good, Amaris = Bad.
It's not so much that they venerate The Star League as they do The SLDF. The general belief among Clanners seems to be that the League existed for the sake of the SLDF (read, the warrior caste), rather than the truth (that it existed for the sake of the supremacy of the Terran Hegemony and House Cameron). Its civilian functions are "that's other-castes business".
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Opalescent Reflections
Dealer’s Choice
Chapter 11
Edo, Turtle Bay
Pesht District, Draconis Combine
9 May 3050
Ace watched the captured mechwarriors of the Fourteenth Legion of Vega as they were marched into the courtyard outside the headquarters building.
That building, along with the planet of Turtle Bay, was now the property of Clan Diamond Shark. The same could be said of the soldiers who had survived the Legion’s defeat. Barely seventy mechwarriors out of more than a hundred had survived, but that was a higher ratio of survival than the infantry who’d attacked the rear of the 21st Assault Cluster as they engaged the Legion’s mechs and tanks. Ace had retained his Elementals aboard the dropships above the landing zone and once the infantry revealed their position, a hundred and fifty Elementals had rained down on the trenches and improvised bunkers.
Now a portion of the elementals were overseeing the prisoners, while most of the battlemechs worked to clear the bulk of the salvaged equipment to where it could be secured. The last thing whoever was appointed to govern Turtle Bay needed was for a resistance group to arm themselves from the wrecks.
Ace’s Stormcrow loomed over the mechwarriors as they were marched in and brought to kneel facing him. Not having hands fitted to the omnimech was a decent excuse for not joining in the effort - although he would have rather done the labor than what he was faced with.
“I am told that the mechwarriors of the Draconis Combine are called samurai,” he enquired of the prisoners. The officers were towards the front - those who survived. Their losses had been disproportionate. “The word I believe could be translated into Star League English as ‘warriors who serve’.”
Ace paused and saw signs of derision in some of their eyes. “Have I erred in my translation?”
One of the mechwarriors in the second row raised his head, back stiff. “Some call us samurai, more call us Takashi’s Rats.”
This one had spirit. Good. He might be useful. “In my experience, insults like that are usually offered out of fear. I take them as a sign of respect. Back-handed, but respect.”
“How much experience is that?” the mechwarrior challenged him. “Are you some lordling of your people?”
One of the Elementals stepped forwards but Ace gestured for him to hold. The mechwarrior had no rank badges but he was old and most likely he was the sort of warriors the Clans pushed to retire. To clear the way for younger and… well, younger warriors. But Ace remembered the way that Castrum Keep’s fighters had been organized and he wasn’t entirely convinced that the Sharks were right to do that.
“I earned my rank, the same way you rats earned your respect. I fought and clawed for it,” he told them. “I was not raised up, I climbed. And I climbed fast, because there were always those reaching for my ankles to drag me down.” Ace dusted himself down. “Warriors who serve. Takashi’s Rats… and rats are very adaptable creatures. They followed us all the way to our homeworlds… somehow. I think it is a rare world humanity has settled that they didn’t reach, eventually.”
There were a few unaccounted for warriors from this regiment. Those rats might be dangerous.
“This world now belongs to Clan Diamond Shark. We will hold it until someone takes it from us. You,” he indicated. “Also belong to Clan Diamond Shark. You used to serve House Kurita. Given the disadvantages you faced fighting us, you served well. Learn our ways, adapt… and you can rise as I did. Fail and… well, that has the same consequence anywhere.”
“Do you think a speech will turn our loyalty from Theodore Kurita?” asked the oldest of the bondsmen. He was in the front ranks, one of only two living survivors who were ranked higher than company commander.
Ace shook his head. “No. But a few months or years working as laborers may encourage some of you to aspire to better things.”
“Sign me up right away,” one of the mechwarriors called. “Put me in that ‘mech and I’ll show you what I’m made of.”
Ace chuckled. “We are not morons. You will have to earn your way up. And before that there will be extensive debriefing. Sharing what you know of the Combine so that we can plan for our future operations will be your first labor and it is not optional.” Then he looked at the other senior officer. The commander of their third battalion. The smile fell off Ace’s face. “You. Stand up.”
The man also frowned, but he obeyed. He was a few years older than Ace, and he didn’t fit with the others. It was little things. The same sort of little details that Ace had worked to smooth out of his own expressions to fit in with Clan Diamond Shark. He had no doubt that the officer was competent, even deadly. But he hadn’t clawed his way up to his current position either. This was someone who was more of the samurai that Ace had expected.
“You commanded the third battalion,” Ace observed. It wasn’t a question. “Quite a number of these mechwarriors are here because of you.”
That got a frown and a slight shake of his head. “We are here because we fought you, and you won.”
“Yes, but you weren’t part of the bid.” Ace stepped forwards. “Your commander bid two battalions of ‘mechs and their support. Your battalion was left behind.”
“Did you expect us to stand aside as you slaughtered our comrades?” the officer asked. “You don’t know the DCMS very well.”
He sighed. “You miss my point: thank you.”
The expression of the recipient of those thanks looked back at him with offended hauteur that was definitely not a rat’s. “What?”
“Your battalion was not bid. If you had marched onto your dropships and left… I would be honor bound to let you leave.” Ace shrugged. “Inconvenient, since we would have to fight you on another world. Perhaps with a better idea of how we fight, and more ‘mechs like yours.” He glanced at Julian. “What was it called?”
“A Grand Dragon,” the Star Commander reminded him.
“Yes, that was it.” Ace turned back to the bondsman. “Not as good as our own ‘mechs, but better than the wrecks most of the Legion had. Instead, you fed your battalion to us. Or was that your commander’s orders?” He looked aside at the old commander for a moment. “A trap baited with two of his battalions so as to feed you a victory when we were worn down?”
“Ije!”
Ace blinked at that explosive syllable.
“No,” the officer translated.
I am going to have to learn their language, Ace thought. If this battle is any example, that might actually be harder than fighting them.
“It was my decision,” the man said quietly. “Mine alone.”
“I thought so. The line between insubordination and initiative is a fine one,” Ace allowed. “You have…”
“I would atone,” the young battalion commander interrupted. He didn’t seem at all happy about this. “If you are indeed an honorable warrior, I ask that you return my swords.”
Why would I do that? Ace wondered. So you can try to kill me?
“Sho-sa,” the old commander said, while Ace was still looking at the battalion commander as if he was an idiot. “That is…”
“Tai-sa Niiro, I have failed abjectly. To make apology to my ancestors is the duty that is left to me.” He paused. “I would rather die than serve these invaders.”
Oh. “You are intend on bondsref?” Ace’s mind went back to New Kent and another man who had made that choice. Hopefully it was not going to be a recurring pattern.
“Bonds-ref? My intention is seppuku.”
They definitely were not speaking the same language, even if most of the words were recognisably Star League English. “It means to end your life rather than become a bondsman.”
“When a samurai has failed severely, it is our custom to end our lives ourselves.” The man turned looked at his commander. “If he is willing, please act as my second. I will not be a prisoner.”
“Neg.” Ace shook his head. “If you are determined to die,” he paused and looked at the others. “If any of you want to die, we can take care of this now. My warriors hold your bonds, I will take care of it. Why do you need swords though?”
Tai-sa Niiro outlined the process to Ace in halting sentences, clearly reluctant.
“That seems…” Needlessly dramatic… “Feasible.” He looked at Julian. “Sho-sa Hiro of House Yamada’s swords can be found, quiaff?” He’d practiced and didn’t even stumble over the use of a non-bloodname second name.
“Are you really going to do this?” Julian asked. “It seems wasteful.”
“A little paper, a little alcohol and a little time. It’s cheaper than a bullet for each of them,” Ace said. “They fought as warriors. If they refuse to adapt, better they die now rather than wasting time.” He leaned closer. “Or letting them take some of us with them,” he whispered.
“I had not considered that,” Julian admitted. “I will find the swords.”
There were two other takers for the ritual and they were brought forwards, sitting in what remained of their field uniforms - apparently mechwarrior suits were not readily available so the men were wearing little more than shorts and boots, a few in jackets that they’d been allowed to retain against the weather. The trio faced the other Legion mechwarriors, whose expressions varied between dull acceptance, dismay or anger.
Three pairs of swords were brought, two mechwarriors recognising theirs. The third shook his head and pointedly rejected them. “You wanted swords,” the elemental who had brought them complained. “These are swords.”
“Take him and fetch the exact swords he wants,” Ace ordered quietly.
“Sir, is this necessary?”
“These are warriors,” the young Star Colonel told him. “Some of those may be warriors of Clan Diamond Shark one day. Let them see that we value them.”
It was hard to tell want the Elemental was thinking behind his visor, but he took the swords and gestured for the mechwarrior to come with him.
“Aren’t you afraid he’ll try to run away?” enquired Yamada.
“The man resigned himself to death. He has a choice between what you say is an honorable death, or fleeing from it and being torn apart. Which would you choose?”
Yamada shrugged.
Ace leant forwards and examined the two swords in front of the Sho-sa. He was no expert, but they certainly seemed well designed, the decoration elegant and designed not to detract in the least from their functionality. The other warrior’s swords were of a similar pattern but less elaborate. There was no doubt that this Yamada was a noble of some kind.
It was almost a shame not to interrogate him, but they had seventy or so other warriors. And it would send a message that might help win over the people of this world.
The other warrior returned holding a pair of swords at about the same time that the other implements were provided and laid before the trio. Each took up their brushes and began drawing upon the paper before them. Ace had expected writing, but the markings were not letters. Was this supposed to be poetry or painting?
Still, it seemed to satisfy all of them.
One at a time, the warriors accepted the cups of sake. The first sipped twice, paused, then finished the contents of the cup with two more sips. Ace thought he could have emptied it with a single swallow. He accepted the warrior’s long sword and stepped up.
With barely a flinch, the Legion mechwarrior drove his shorter blade into his chest, below the ribs and angled to penetrate the organs. Then the man wrenched the blade to the side.
Ace swung the blade with both hands. He missed his mark, the sword glanced slightly off one of the vertebrae and didn’t fully finish cutting through the neck. Still, it should have been almost instantly fatal. He forced the blade the rest of the way through the soft tissue and stepped back from the bloody, decapitated corpse.
I think I’ve made a mistake, he thought. But it was too late now. This was being recorded.
He released the sword next to its owner, went to the next man and watched him drink. Again, two sips followed by two more. This was a ritual Ace did not understand, he had a feeling that the consequences would not be those he had hoped for. He would have to live with that, while this would not.
Again, the brutal self-inflicted wound on the belly. This time the mechwarrior hunched over slightly, pushing the hilt down to force the blade higher within his chest. Ace hesitated part-way through the stroke, corrected his aim and then completed the cut. This time the head fell free without further effort.
Yamada did not seem disturbed by this. He seemed… serene. “It would be customary for you to deliver the swords to our families,” he said. “But I hope you never get near them.”
What do you say to that? Ace chose nothing, picking up the katana.
The Sho-sa drank his sake slowly, deliberately. Almost as if he was drawing this out because he knew it was wearing on Ace.
Then he took the short, barely curved blade and drove it into himself.
Ace was in motion almost before the blade was fully inserted. Hiro Yamada had barely begun to turn the penetration into a cut before his head fell from his shoulders.
Still standing over him, the Star Colonel studied the sword in his hands. Then he bent down, removed the shorter sword from Hiro’s hands.
“What are you doing with them?” asked the tai-sa, voice level and not accusing.
“I will clean them… and then I think I will keep them.”
“As trophies?”
“Neg,” Ace corrected him. “As a reminder.” These people do not think the way the Clans do. Not even the way the dark caste do. It’s deeper than language. And that gap will be harder to conquer than their planets. How do we sway their souls?
Thunder Rift, Trellwan
Tamar March, Federated Commonwealth
10 May 3050
Victor’s Victor was buried in the snow, which was something that really wasn’t recommended. His reactor was at minimal power, barely enough to keep the instruments working, but that was still warm enough that snow around the chest was melting slowly away, then refreezing as ice around the colder hips and legs. Sooner or later, the ‘mech would either be uncovered by the melting or the ice would be thick enough he’d need help to remove it.
Hopefully both sooner and later would be after the target of this ambush arrived.
Victor sneezed. While the reactor’s ambient heat was enough to keep his cockpit above freezing, it wasn’t much above that and he was only wearing shorts and an inactive cooling vest. Needing to be ready to move on short notice made pulling on his parka impractical so he was using it as a blanket. This would be a hell of a way for a good Tharkad boy to die, he thought to himself. Whose stupid idea was this… oh wait, it was mine… If half of C Company come down with pneumonia, Galen Cox will kick my ass.
He couldn’t even blame the Hauptmann for his being the one out here on ambush. Victor had volunteered his lance for this, since one lance was needed to bury the other one.
And he had his lance at least - even if it was dead men’s shoes.
The invaders - Clan Jade Falcon - had wrecked the Twelfth Donegal Guards in the course of an afternoon. While Victor could proudly say that he hadn’t frozen up or otherwise embarrassed himself, that was only a very personal consolation. The enemy’s armored infantry had dropped right on the command vans, taking out most of the staff, while a thrust of battlemechs had driven right through the second battalion to relieve the infantry before they could be overrun in turn.
With everyone above the rank of regimental commander out of contact, Colonel Hawksworth had been faced with something that reminded Victor far too much of the dreaded La Mancha scenario, except worse. Victor had know that staff at the Department of Military Education were working to overhaul that exam after Kai Allard-Liao’s draw and his own unprecedented victory, and this looked like being excellent material for them to use to make it even harder.
Despite that, Colonel Hawksworth’s orders had shown the difference between a seasoned officer and academy cadets. Faster than Victor could have imagined, the Guards had reformed with their armor and infantry into a pincer movement on the Jade Falcon advance, while support elements scrambled to relocate out of the path of the fighting.
It had almost worked. It could have worked, except the Jade Falcons fought like nothing Victor had even heard of. It wasn’t just their ‘mechs, although he’d have killed for something that could perform like the Summoner he’d battled briefly. His Victor was one of the most advanced ‘mechs built since the First Succession War but it was outmatched in every way by a ‘mech that gave up ten tons to the assault ‘mech.
It was faster, it jumped further, it sported not only a Gauss Rifle and SRMs but also a large pulse laser in place of the two medium lasers on the prince’s Victor. And it could take a pounding too - only the addition of Galen’s LRMs and Jon Fedorov’s Rifleman had been enough to push the Summoner back far enough that they could disengage. Or rather, Galen and Victor had disengaged. Jon’s Rifleman’s cockpit had been breached by a parting shot from the Summoner.
Fighting like furies, the Jade Falcons had torn apart Hawksworth’s spearhead. A chill went through Victor even now (not something he wanted under these circumstances) as he remembered the colonel’s last command: “Fall back. Nikolai, get them into the mountains! It’s up to you now!”
A moment later, his Thunderbolt swarmed by more battle armor, the colonel had yanked the safeties on his own reactor. The ‘mech and infantry had disappeared in a flash of silvery fire that shook the entire battlefield.
What was left of the proud Twelfth Donegal Guards had obeyed, limping into the cave-riddled mountains around Thunder Rift. There were supply caches there, and Hawksworth’s prescient orders had the techs and other support staff already on the move and able to join the retreat. For now, they were a refuge.
It wasn’t going to turn this around though. Now, three days later, there were Jade Falcon patrols combing the passes, covered by copious aerospace support. Just hitting back had the risk of revealing the Guards’ hiding places, but their supplies wouldn’t last forever.
While he wasn’t senior enough for the command conferences to decide what to do about this, Victor had at least been given his shot at lance command. Leutnant Gordon and Oberleutnant Feintuch hadn’t made it into the mountains, so Galen had consolidated C Company into two lances and given Victor his own first taste of command.
A flicker on his passive sensors woke Victor from his reverie. Something was coming their way, and it could only be what he was waiting for. He pushed the parka off him and pumped his arms back and forth, trying to get the blood flowing. Meanwhile the computers did their best to couple data from thermal, seismic and magscan sensors, painting a picture of what he was dealing with.
Battlemechs - or rather these Omnimechs that the Clans were using. It was hard to say if they had battlearmor clinging to them, so he’d have to assume that they did and that they’d be fighting the ‘toads’, as troopers had started calling them.
Setting aside that variable, it looked like two light ‘mechs probing ahead, a medium staying in close overwatch and a pair of heavies at the back. That wasn’t ideal but it was what they’d planned for. It had been working for the Jade Falcons so far, and they didn’t seem to vary their approach without a clear reason to. Which, as Victor’s instructors had gone to pains to point out to him, led to predictability. It was always better to have some options baked into your doctrine rather than doing the same thing every time.
In 3028, it had led to the DCMS across the entire Lyran front getting caught with an influx of fresh and inexperienced soldiers right when they were hit by the biggest offensive attempted in over a century. Here, hopefully, it would give the Jade Falcons a small taste of their own medicine.
Victor watched the icons crawl closer and closer to those of his lance, finger hovering over the button that would bring his reactor up to full operational level. This was the risky moment. His own sensors wouldn’t pick up a mech in this state unless he was right on top of them or he knew exactly what to look for, but there were better sensors. If the Clans had something like the Capellan’s latest generation Raven - and they might! - then he would be picked up before they could spring the ambush. That would be bad.
He didn’t think that they did though - or if they did, they weren’t showing signs of it. The omnimechs observed carrying out these patrols were the same configurations that had been seen in action, and to fit the sizable electronic packages for active probes would probably require stripping away some of the armament if the ‘mechs worked the way the briefings from the Wolf Dragoons suggested.
The blips moved closer and closer. They showed no sign of alarm, confident that they could deal with anything out here. Victor didn’t like to admit it, but they weren’t wrong. A straight fight between the five Jade Falcons and all eight ‘mechs of C Company wouldn’t favor the Donegal Guards, even if Elementals weren’t being considered.
The light ‘mechs parted ways to comb through the pass and the nearest was getting so close to Sonny Semiramis’ Wolverine that he was almost sure to be detected. Victor hit the button for his reactor and tightened his grip on the controls. Before the weapons were even online, he had the Victor standing, ice cracking around its legs.
As the snow cleared and his active sensors went live, Victor saw the nearest light ‘mech was already turning its guns on Semiramis. Lasers, missiles and even an autocannon were doing a frantically alarming amount of damage to the Wolverine’s armor, but the Kit Fox wasn’t managing to concentrate the hits enough to take the larger ‘mech out as it shifted to stand.
The weapons came online and Victor hit the trigger for his SRMs while the rest of his armament was waiting for capacitors to charge. The quartet of missiles burst from the launcher on his ‘mech’s chest and spiraled across the snowscape towards the Kit Fox. Only one hit, but that was enough to alert the mechwarrior that Semiramis wasn’t the only threat.
The Kit Fox sidestepped to try to keep the Wolverine between itself and Victor’s firepower. He could see a second Kit Fox sprinting in as reinforcements - and no doubt the medium would arrive as soon as it could.
“Toads!” Semirami yelled in warning and dropped his ‘mech flat, trying to crush the armored infantry beneath him. The move also left the Kit Fox exposed as its cover was suddenly lost.
Victor twitched the crosshairs delicately across the front of the low-slung ‘mech and fired the rest of his arsenal, joined by the Thunderbolt and Griffin that made up the rest of the lance. Missiles, lasers and the brilliant flare of the Griffin’s PPC slashed through the air, some of it wasted on the snow around or behind it. But Victor’s gauss rifle proved the decisive strike - the Kit Fox’s cockpit was smashed inwards as over a hundred kilograms of tungsten steel smashed into it at several times the speed of sound, exiting the other side of the cockpit an instant later, accompanied by a spray of what had once been the mechwarrior inside.
“Good shot, LT!” shouted Suzume from her Thunderbolt.
“Lucky,” he snapped. “Get rid of the toads. Hauptmann, we’re at Second Base. Go!” Victor strode his Victor forwards, firing both lasers a second time to punch both shots into one of the Elementals. The beams slashed deep into the suit’s armor but didn’t manage to finish it off. The warrior inside ejected his missile pack and raced fearlessly towards the Victor.
A burst of machinegun fire from Suzume’s Thunderbolt ended that - at least some of the bullets must have found a hole made by the lasers and bounced around inside the battle armor, to the fatal detriment of the occupant. With her other arm, the mechwarrior fired her large laser into a second elemental. It severed one leg but the man inside still fired both his SRMs up at the Thunderbolt standing over him.
Suzume ignored the minor damage and stamped one massive foot down, putting a stop to that. Another elemental was flung to the floor by Semiramis in his Wolverine and he too stamped on the Clan warrior.
“Incoming,” warned Jerry Hogan. He fired off LRMs towards the other Kit Fox. He couldn’t use the Griffin’s PPC again, he’d detached it from the right fist in order to seize one arm of the fallen omnimech.
Victor did the same with one of the bird-like legs. “Leave them to the command lance.”
Sure enough, missiles from Galen Cox’s Crusader and rest of the Hauptmann’s lance started raining down on the Kit Fox, forcing the mechwarrior to break off and evade. Between the Archer, the 6-A JagerMech variant and Cox’s Crusader, fully a hundred LRMs were converting on the bird-like light ‘mech and the mechwarrior had the sense to know he couldn’t avoid heavy damage if more than a few of them hit home.
“Nova coming into view,” Cox advised. “Hustle hustle, people.”
Victor’s lance were doing their best, between them dragging thirty tons of mostly intact omnimech with them. Moving in concert like this wasn’t something focused on much in the academy, and for some mysterious reason none of the other mechwarriors had been willing to risk damage to their own ‘mechs in a practise run.
The entrance to the cave they’d arrived through loomed before them. “Third base,” Victor reported as soon as they were inside and moving through the shadows. A transport truck was waiting for them, but they’d need to get through two kilometers of cavern floor first.
“Blake’s blood, it’s like fighting a damn disco ball!” shouted Stanowski.
“Back off!” shouted Cox.
There was an explosion that rocked the cave. Stones fell from the ceiling, pelting Victor’s canopy. Clearly one of C Company had not been lucky.
Out of the corner of his eyes, he saw Cox’s Crusader march into the cave, followed by Elbing’s Archer. The seventy ton warmachine fired its aft lasers, something must be right behind them.
As tempting as it was to try to rush, Victor knew he’d just make it harder for the rest of his lance. All he could do was keep the same steady march that would let them stick together. This was the part of the mission that had been given to Cox’s lance.
Undaunted by a mere pair of medium lasers, the crab-like shape of a Clan Nova entered the cave and Elbing barely turned in time to take the barrage of lasers from the medium ‘mech against its side rather than its weaker rear armor. As it was, the salvo left the Archer’s arm and flank visibly glowing as gouged armor panels tried to radiate the heat transferred by the impact.
Olaf Piederson’s Hunchback stepped in to shield its larger counterpart. Victor could imagine the face of the Nova’s pilot - first alarm at seeing one of the most formidable infighters ever design facing it at point-blank range, followed by relief that the massive autocannon was clearly out of action.
And then the cavern mouth was full of fire as scores of crude rockets - not much more than LRMs stripped of much of their guidance package - crashed out of the improvised rack that took the place of the autocannon and the Hunchback’s right arm.
Close to a full ton of explosives hammered the Nova physically backwards, green armor blackened or replaced by craters.
Lasers and SRMs from the Crusader and Archer added to the fusillade.
“Home-run!” shouted Cox. “I say again, home -”
And then the roof did fall in.
Not all of it, just the sections above the entrance. Explosive charges carefully placed by the handful of demo specialists available triggered and dropped several tons of stone onto the Nova. Only the largest and most powerful of Battlemechs could have survived that, and despite the Clan’s advances in many fields, the Nova wasn’t built to withstand that. The deadly warmachine was left half-buried, one shoulder visibly smashed by the impacts.
“Keep going,” Cox ordered, turning his Crusader to follow Victor’s lance. “We haven’t dealt with the heavies… or that Kit Fox.”
-
For all the Hauptmann’s reasonable concerns, there was no sign of pursuit as the little column walked through the towering caves towards the transport.
“Stanowski?” asked Suzume, quietly.
“Not a chance, sergeant,” Cox told her gently. “They got him right in the ammo bins and there wasn’t a chute.
She sighed. “At least it would have been quick.”
On that somber note, they reached the truck and with no less than seven ‘mechs to handle it, they were able to lift the salvaged Kit Fox up and onto the back of it. A technical crew hastily secured it with heavy chains. “Any sign of pursuit, Hauptmann?” asked one of them, using the comm built into his arm bracer.
Cox gestured dismissively with one arm of his Crusader. “Not yet. But they’ll dig out the entrance and then they’ll start combing through these caves.”
Fortunately they weren’t anywhere near the current base of the Twelfth. The tangle of caves stretched for hundreds of miles, the result of long-ago ocean currents and reinforced by the occasional torrent from the glaciers that were all that remained of those waters.
That left them a long march, careful to avoid leaving a trail that could be followed. But that just made the caverns actually in use feel so much more secure once they finally arrived, late in the day.
A few cheers went up at the sight of the Clan ‘mech on the flatbed, but Victor thought he saw some long faces too. It would hardly be a secret that eight ‘mechs had gone out and only seven of the Guards had come back.
C Company parked in two neat lines near the tent being used to house the headquarters. It looked strange, but the canvas kept off dust from the roof and kept heat in. Important because the mountains were as cold as the rest of Trellwan, colder than most. The Grey Death Legion had famously fought a guerilla war out of these caves against the Kuritan occupation a quarter of a century ago, Victor hoped that the Twelfth’s resistance would serve as well.
Victor donned the parka and heavy trousers before climbing down from his ‘mech. Fortunately he’d taken no damage - it would be days before Semiramis’ Wolverine was fit again. And making those repairs would take up stocks of armor. It was fortunate that the damage was no deeper… The mech would fight again, unlike poor Stanowski and his JagerMech.
Hauptmann-Kommandant Nikolai VanLees emerged from the tent to welcome them back. “Good work, Cox. All of you,” the officer corrected himself, glancing at the warriors. “Stanowski?”
Cox shook his head.
The commander of Red Brigade - the Guard’s third battalion, named for its usual role as an opfor in training exercises against other units stationed near Trellwan - sighed. He had inherited command of what remained of the RCT since he was senior among the battalion commanders. No colonel or leutnant-colonel had made it to the Thunder Rift. “One more to remember. But you brought back what we needed.” He looked up at the damaged ‘mech. “And remarkably undamaged.”
“Leutnant Steiner-Davion took the cockpit out,” Victor’s commander reported. “It was neatly done.”
“Well done, Leutnant. Well done. With a sample of the Clan’s technology, hopefully NAIS can start working out how to replicate it.”
“How are you going to get it back there, sir?” asked Suzume.
VanLees shook his head. “Need to know, sergeant. Try not to think about it.” He indicated the two officers of C Company. “Come with me.”
Victor and Cox followed the Hauptmann-Kommandant into the tent. It was quiet inside, the sides insulating the interior against noise as well as cold. A few techs were working at setting up electronic equipment, but most of it wasn’t active. Powering them up might cause enough heat or electromagnetic side-scatter to be picked up by the Falcons, so most systems were used only when needed.
Tearing a strip of paper from one printer, VanLees studied it and then placed it on the table, dropping a magnetic paperweight that would pin it to the metal surface. “The answer to your mechwarrior’s question is that one of our dropships will need to take it to a jump point. We’re still in limited communication with the Federated Commonwealth and a Scout-class has jumped in at a pirate point in the outer system. As far as we can tell, they haven’t been picked up by the Jade Falcons yet. It’s a chance.”
The box must be one of the K-class transmitters, Victor thought. Not as fast as an HPG but it was a technology that even ComStar was believed to be ignorant of. One of the Federated Commonwealth’s greatest secrets, one that the Jade Falcons might not guess at. Saving that from the lost headquarters complex might be worth more than a company of battlemechs.
“One dropship,” Galen observed. “I know a few people were hoping we could evacuate.”
Victor made a noise that was the start of a protest, but bit it back.
“We’re not going to win here, leutnant. Trellwan is the Falcons’ and it’ll be a long time before we can change that.” VanLees sank into a chair and exhaled slightly. “If we could evacuate remains of the Twelfth to refit to fight for worlds that might be saved then that would be the right thing to do, but the one jumpship available can only carry a single dropship so all I can do is commit to pinning down as much of the invasion force here as a garrison as I can.”
“Can one dropship make the run out to the pirate point?” Victor asked. “The Falcons’ have a sizeable aerospace force.”
“Two of our Leopards are being stripped of everything they don’t need,” VanLees told him. “They’ll launch towards a more obvious pirate point, drawing off pursuit. Then the Condor carrying your prize and our wounded will take off and hopefully avoid notice or at least be too far ahead of the Falcons. They may assume an infantry transport isn’t important enough to follow.”
“It’s still a gamble,” Cox observed. “But I can’t think of anything else that would stack the odds better in our favor.”
“Your approval fills me with warmth, Hauptmann.” VanLees paused and then grimaced. “That wasn’t a reprimand. You’ve done well. I’ll be leaning on you… but you are also down to half a company. I’m going to roll C Company into what’s left of E Company, it makes more sense than operating as a demi-company.”
“Seven mechs isn’t half, quite,” pointed out Victor.
Cox looked at him, then the Hauptmann-Kommandant. “He’s not stupid, but he does tend to… over-focus.”
“Well, that can be trained out of him. You’re going on the dropship,” VanLees said, pointing at Victor.
“What?!”
“You are too valuable to the Federated Commonwealth to stay here running a resistance movement. You also know too much. Your capture would be a disaster on a number of levels.” The veteran shook his head. “While we had no way out, I was willing to deploy you but now I have an alternative.”
“Sir, that dropship is for the wounded. I’m fit to fight!” Victor protested. “My mech’s fine, and you need every soldier you can.”
VanLees sighed heavily. “I respect your courage, your highness.”
“I’m here as a leutnant, not a prince!”
The Hauptmann-Kommandant’s shoulders slumped. “Hauptmann?”
Cox rested one hand on Victor’s shoulder. “He’s a good lance commander. Kept his head, focused on his mission. He has the vices of those virtues, but I think he has the makings of a valuable officer.”
That was the highest compliment that Victor had heard from his commander. He brightened…
And then his arm was wrenched up and backwards. There was a moment of blinding pain as his arm popped out of the shoulder joint. Victor screamed.
“And now he’s wounded,” Cox continued. “Nothing permanent, but you won’t be fit to pilot for a little while.”
Victor said something he immediately regretted about Cox’s mother. Partly because it was undeserved, partly because the two senior officers looked at him as if he was twelve.
“Take him to the dropship, Hauptmann.” VanLees offered his hand to Cox. “And take your kit as well. Someone needs to keep him in line. Maybe work on the accepting legitimate orders part. The Nagelring seems to have trouble with that.”
Cox shrugged. “To be entirely fair, I’m told I took a while to learn that myself. Maybe it’s an issue with the standard academy curriculum…”
Edo, Turtle Bay
Pesht District, Draconis Combine
13 May 3050
The building’s windows were broken, glass scattered across the street. Ace could smell smoke but there was no sign of anything still burning. As he disembarked from the armored personnel carrier, he saw crowds watching quietly, held back by temporary barricades and a line of soldiers holding automatic shotguns or riot shields and tonfa. No, not soldiers. They had pink and white stripes on their protective gear. That marked them as the Civilian Guidance Corps - law enforcers.
“Is the fire out?” he asked the man who seemed to be senior amongst them.
“Who are you?” the man asked, looking irritated. Then his eyes widened in recognition. “Ah. Yes, sir.” He bowed stiffly after a moment’s hesitation. “The surviving staff extinguished the fire and the local fire service have sent a car to assure that they did so successfully.”
Ace returned the bow, doing his best to match the degree of it. “Good. Is there any sign of additional explosives?”
“No sir. Initial reports are that a man threw a device into the bar and fled on foot. The explosion was almost immediate, so this is likely a hit and run not a placed explosive.” The CGC officer seemed hesitant to say as much.
“I will trust your judgment,” Ace told him. “We are both warriors and this is your field of expertise, quiaff?”
The man frowned. “I am not a soldier. We are… we were subject to the Ministry of the Judiciary. Not part of the DCMS.”
With a shake of his head, the young Star Colonel gestured to the buildings around them and to the crowds. “Your job is to protect these people?”
“From criminal threats, yes.”
Ace tilted his head slightly. “We have a caste system and those who protect the Clan and its people are our warriors. Whether it is on the battlefield or these streets. You and your corps will have to learn to function as part of the warrior caste.” And he should give orders to have proper uniforms prepared and issued. It would be a good use of the local currency - who knew how long it would take to replace that with Kerensky credits? In the meantime, seeing the CGC in Diamond Shark uniforms would make it appear that law and order was on the side of the Clan.
The APC’s engine shut down and Ace was joined by Julius and Michel, the Star Commander and the bondsman both wearing field gear and carrying rifles.
“How many casualties?” Ace asked.
“Three of your people.”
“Two wounded, one dead,” Michel said harshly. “There must be a reckoning.”
Ace nodded. Given bidding, having to wait for one replacement to arrive and two warriors to recover wasn’t crippling. But what if it became ten and twenty. Or a hundred and two hundred. This couldn’t be allowed to continue. “Do you have a suggestion?” he asked idly.
Michel nodded. “Deploy one of our ‘mechs here and crush a building every few minutes until the culprit is surrendered,” he said matter of factly. “I doubt that a coward like this will surrender himself, but the community will give him up rather than lose their homes. And the sight of leveled buildings will remind them not to challenge us again.”
Ace was very conscious of the expressions around him. “That could work,” he conceded thoughtfully, ignoring the horrified faces of the crowd in easy earshot and the forced lack of expression by the CGC officer. “Julian, explain to Michel.”
“That would work as long as we have ‘mechs here,” the Star Commander pointed out. “In this city, I mean. But we will be moving on and the planet’s garrison won’t necessarily keep that level of presence here.” Then he reached over and gripped Michel’s shoulder forcefully. “And these are our people, now.”
The former Steel Viper tried to hide the way his shoulder being crushed by Julian’s hand must be paining him. “Including the one who threw the bomb?”
“Yes. And we do punish our own,” Ace confirmed. “Tell me, officer. What do we know about him?”
“Nothing definite,” the man replied. “One of my men thinks the face may be known as one of the Ryugawa-gumi.”
“That what?” asked Julian, releasing Michel. (The bondsman tried to be discreet about rubbing his shoulder).
“A… chivalrous organization.”
Ace considered that. “Rivers and lakes?” he asked, remembering a reference he’d heard in his youth to those who moved among the Clans’ civilian castes while remaining as independent as those of the castrum. Dark caste, but a different flavor from that he’d grown up with.
There was relief on the officer’s face. “Yes, exactly.”
“I do not understand,” admitted Michel. “Is this a Diamond Shark custom?”
He shook his head. “No, all societies have them in one form or another. No system of rules can accommodate all possibilities, not even the laws of the Founder - or in this case, of the Draconis Combine. Someone needs to remain… fluid. Like oil in machinery, to smooth the edges and deal with the points of friction. But because they don’t operate by the rules of society, governments usually remain at one remove from them.”
Michel shook his head. “Clan Steel Viper has no such people.”
“You probably never came across them. Warriors rarely do, in my experience,” Ace told him. “We are better at clear cut matters, while they deal with… gray areas.”
“But if they are fighting against us… That makes them an enemy!”
“If,” Ace clarified. “They remain people. It could be one reckless member, which is forgivable so long as it is corrected for. On the other hand, if they have decided that they will fight against Clan Diamond Shark rather than adapting and fitting in with us… well, we need someone for that role but it need not be this… Ryugawa-gumi.”
“So what will you order?” Julian asked.
“For now?” Ace shrugged. “How many civilians were hurt, officer?”
“Four. And three are dead.”
He exhaled. “This man, whoever he is, did more damage to natives of Turtle Bay than to warriors. I will have our doctors consult with those already here. It may be that we can help them in ways that you cannot. Unfortunately, that is not the case for the dead.”
“No, I would suppose not,” the officer said. “But access to military doctors will be welcome. There are never enough trained doctors outside of the DCMS.”
Julian frowned. “That’s an odd shortage. Why are more not trained if there is a need?”
“Ah… the previous Lord Kurita believed that medical resources were best focused entirely on the military.”
“He what?” Michel spoke, for once, for all three of the Clansmen. “You are joking, quiaff?”
“It’s no joke, sir. Lord Takashi is more generous, but the hospitals remain understaffed.”
Ace shook his head. “That will take time to correct. I will not mark myself as a liar by saying medical access is equally accessible to everyone in our Clan, but all the Castes are allocated resources to their needs as best we can. I will report that, so we can at least begin planning.” He glanced at Julian. “The scientist caste will be… infuriated, quiaff?”
“Aff. I believe medical records are something they were eager to examine.” The older warrior shuddered slightly. “I do not volunteer to tell them.”
“Noted.” Ace turned back to the officer. “Very well. As for these… Ryugawa-gumi? I assume word can be sent to them?”
“Yes sir.”
“Send me information on them and try to establish whether this is indeed one of theirs. The only way they can prove he is not is by finding him for us, which would be helpful.”
Michel folded his arms. “What if he is?”
“Then they will have the choice between surrendering him to us, or going to war against Clan Diamond Shark,” Ace told him. “In which case you will be smashing the buildings associated with them, while I will be announcing their determination to fight us to the last drop of other’s blood. Let us see how much sympathy they garner when it is clear they are shedding more blood of the people of this world than of our Clan.”
-
I wonder what the fallout is going to be when Ace finds out Hiro was Hohiro Kurita.
Though it seems with Hohiro dead and Ace taking a more focused view on dealing with resistance acts we are not going to see a Clan bombardment of Edo...
So where in the FRR is Clan Smoke Jaguar going to flip their shit?
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So Hohiro is dead, which is a major butterfly. Shark Khans will be really pissed when the realize who the prisoner was.
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Good for the FedCom that Victor has some sensible senior officers. If only Hohiro had had similar guidance. So who's going to be heir-designate now? Omiko? Or will the sexist Combine go with Minoru? Both are by 3050 adults. Also, I guess Omiko's and Victor's love story might be killed by butterflies.
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I'm actually surprised. In canon, Hohiro hadn't obfuscated his name. I was surprised to find it here, and for him to commit seppeku.
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I'm looking forward to seeing how the different clans are progressing in comparison to each other both in worlds captured as well as losses taking them. If the Smoke Jaguars as seen as lagging behind and doing poorly, then if Leo Showers is killed as in the regular timeline I could see one or more reserve clans being forced on the Jaguars to humiliate them further.
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Victor is a good 'kid' but definitely still a 'kid' plus he seems to have a bit too much "Ian" in him (as per OTL). Galen as per the OTL is still his best bet for surviving until the innate stupidity of youth is brunt off.
As Omi and Vic, Not so sure the Butterflies are going to kill that match off. Victor may take the 10th Lyran Guards to Luthien with the Dragoons and Hounds to save the 'Royal' family and a certain Omiko Kurita (or may "dragoon" himself into the Dragoons/Hounds to do so :-) ).
Great chapter, thank you!
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The reason why Dragoons and Hounds were sent to Luthien was due to them being mercenaries and not house troops, sending house troops to Combine capital was still couple of bridges too far at that point, as was sending the heir to FC.
More likely option is that due to first Comstar/Dragoons summit being rather low rank, there is another C/D summit with much higher ranking participation, much sooner than in canon, so they can meet there. Whether the spark is struck is another issue.
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The question is if the DC would even attend such a summit, given that the heir to the heir of the throne committed seppuku when the Clanners took Edo.
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Why wouldn't they? They need any information that can help them fight the invaders.
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Good for the FedCom that Victor has some sensible senior officers. If only Hohiro had had similar guidance. So who's going to be heir-designate now? Omiko? Or will the sexist Combine go with Minoru? Both are by 3050 adults. Also, I guess Omiko's and Victor's love story might be killed by butterflies.
I don't think it will be Omi but not for any sexist reasons. The Heir to the Dragon has to be a warrior, and Omi is not.
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I don't think it will be Omi but not for any sexist reasons. The Heir to the Dragon has to be a warrior, and Omi is not.
I brought this up over on Spacebattles where the story is also being posted. Potential butterfly, with Hohiro dead? Will Hanse and Melissa decide that Katherine as the backup needs to be ready in case something happens to Victor?
IOW, rather than letting her skate on military service with a political/civil service job? Insist she needs to do her five in the military as well. Looking up the dates she'd be a few months short of eighteen. A bit late to normally apply for an academy position, but OTOH not out of the realm of a bit of political favor trading and "for the good of the realm" to get her into one. Since Victor went to the Nagelring? Maybe enroll her in the New Avalon Military Academy?
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I don't think it will be Omi but not for any sexist reasons. The Heir to the Dragon has to be a warrior, and Omi is not.
Do they? Well, in that case the Combine better get either one of Theodore's children through basic training ASAP. Because Minorou is a this point ~18 years old and not a MechWarrior, as far as we now.
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I don't think it will be Omi but not for any sexist reasons. The Heir to the Dragon has to be a warrior, and Omi is not.
How much would her brother's death at the invader's hands change her however?
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Another aspect to consider is this: He didn´t die in battle. He comitted sepukku to atone for his actions - leading his unit into battle against orders, resulting in that unit getting destroyed. He is not a martyr against the invaders; he disgraced himself through disobedience and failure, and atoned for that through death.
Also, the Diamond Sharks not only let him commit sepukku, they actively assisted him in doing so, despite not being part of that kind of tradition themselves. That has got to color the Kuritas´ perception of the Diamond Sharks, especially Takashi´s as he´s the most traditionalist.
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IOW, rather than letting her skate on military service with a political/civil service job? Insist she needs to do her five in the military as well. Looking up the dates she'd be a few months short of eighteen. A bit late to normally apply for an academy position, but OTOH not out of the realm of a bit of political favor trading and "for the good of the realm" to get her into one. Since Victor went to the Nagelring? Maybe enroll her in the New Avalon Military Academy?
Possible. In canon she went to New Avalon Institute of Science, which is what they're calling the New Avalon Military Academy nowadays.
How much would her brother's death at the invader's hands change her however?
That's a lot of catch up she has to do. Her brothers have been training for it all their lives. Best prospect she had was to be in line for Keeper of the House Honor.
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Opalescent Reflections
Dealer’s Choice
Chapter 12
Unity City Recovery Zone, North America
Terra, Sol System
7 June 3050
The logistics of bringing together delegations from half a dozen worlds on Terra had gone more smoothly than Wei Rong had expected. Perhaps she shouldn’t have been surprised since in most cases there had been similar arrangements to bring Precentor-Advocates to the homeworld for meetings of the First Circuit. This was much the same, even if it had to be done more than once so that advance teams could set up secure lodgings for their lords and ladies. Mysteriously none of them trusted ComStar for that.
While ComStar’s own merchant fleet had provided much of the transport, the Captain-General, Gunji-no-Kanrei, Archon and First Prince had all used jumpships from their own navies to make the final jump into Terra. No doubt all were making intensive efforts to gather all the information they could about the state of Terra’s defenses. Wei hoped they were close enough to see the frantic efforts being made at Terra to make operational no less than four SLDF-vintage destroyers. If they believed that was the extent of ComStar’s fleet then that would be all the better.
As the air-car came into view of their destination, Wei was finishing reading a report from Delta. It seemed that having leaned on ComStar to ship officers back from the front for this meeting, House Steiner had then transferred a sealed container to the Federated Suns jumpship that had brought Hanse Davion here. Most likely samples of Clan technology being shipped to NAIS. Mu’s commentary suggested the transfer was being done under everyone’s eyes to show off that NAIS would be taking the lead in such research.
Wei closed down the datapad and slipped it into the secure storage built into the front of the passenger compartment. Once she was delivered, the driver would courier it back to ComStar’s local offices.
As the aircar reached the gates to the estate, guards came to attention and the not-entirely-ornamental barriers retracted so that it could enter without influence. A small army of gardeners were waging war against centuries of neglect but the driveway was clear, looping past additional guard posts until finally reaching the ‘small and rustic’ palace that House Liao had erected on Terra in the late 26th century.
So small and rustic was it that it was another two minutes after entering the complex before the air-car came to rest outside the courtyard that was their destination. There was a light drizzle and for once, Wei was glad of the heavy robes of office.
The arch leading into the courtyard had no gate, it was instead blocked by a pair of black-clad soldiers. Wei produced the folded letter with the heavy seal of green wax, offering it to one of them. “I have been invited.”
The man tapped the side of his helmet. “Please wait. Chancellor Liao will summon you shortly.”
Oh, a power play. “No rush,” Wei assured him. Surely Romano Liao wasn’t crazy enough to attempt anything on Terra. Then she tapped her own earpiece and started dancing slowly and smoothly to the music.
The helmet visors hid the eyes of the two men. Death Commandos or simply aping their style? Not that it mattered. Their body language betrayed that dancing was not a usual response from someone being kept waiting at the pleasure of Romano Liao. A few servants (some of them lower nobility, but still servants) went past and were less reserved in their reactions to seeing the Primus of ComStar dancing outside the gate of the Chancellor’s quarters.
Wei kept smiling and dancing as the time clocked away.
“My goodness, I didn’t realize you were so limber,” a melodic voice declared in only slightly accented Cantonese. “It reminds me of my own youth.”
Completing her turn, Wei identified the speaker and went fluidly from the dance into a polite bow - respectful but not deferential. She answered in the same language, her native tongue. “The peace of Blake be upon you, Chancellor Liao. My thanks for providing some time to exercise. I’m sure your weighty responsibilities, like my own duties, sometimes make it difficult to find time for the simple pleasures.”
“That is indeed true.” Romano Liao was of an age with Wei’s mother, although she hid it well. A few artistic touches of gray in her hair provided gravitas. The Chancellor gestured and an aircar that could have been the twin of Wei’s own save for the small flags of the Capellan Confederation on the corners slid smoothly into place. “The palace, I fear, remains barely habitable, so we will take the scenic route to the conference and talk on the way.”
“I regret that our offer to do preliminary clean-up work before you arrived was unacceptable,” Wei agreed calmly. “But I see that your own people are making good progress.”
“Had we only been allowed to retain access to Terra, proper maintenance could have been arranged. But then, ComStar has been rather neglectful of this part of the world they hold in trust,” the Chancellor said as she entered the back of the aircar.
Wei followed her and was amused to be waved towards one of the folding seats facing backwards rather than the more comfortable L-shape of seats along the back and to one side. She sat and strapped herself in. After the bridge incident, she’d been much more careful about strapping in. “It’s a complex legal matter. Unity City itself is the property of the Star League, these estates belong to the Great Houses… and of course, both Amaris’ Coup and the later liberation did considerable damage and left the area almost unpopulated.”
Romano’s eyes narrowed. “One would have thought that you would have it ready for the next First Lord, as the custodians.”
“Well, if Hanse Davion thinks he can use this meeting to get a vote to appoint him then I will be delighted to give him the bill for the repair and maintenance that we have done. Over two centuries of it does add up…” Wei mused, quite sure that the First Prince had no such delusions of grandeur.
That got a laugh from the older woman as the aircar pulled away from her personal quarters. “I suppose I should be glad that he did not try to have the Liao estate here granted to my sister. I am sure that would have pleased Davion and his wife.”
“That would have been unthinkable. This estate is the seat of the Council Lord of the Capellan Confederation.”
There were nine such estates, describing a rough arc around the bay that Unity City had been built upon, separated from each other by transport corridors and other facilities that had once served the capital of the Star League. Not quite as close as the wreck of Fort Cameron, they’d still been the site of fighting and collateral damage that marked the start and end of Stefan Amaris’ rule of Terra. Clean-up had begun in the hope of a return to normalcy only to end after Kerensky’s exodus.
This, like the restoration of Venus’ solar shade, was something that Wei considered to be unfinished business ComStar should take care of. The excuse of hosting the majority of the Successor Lords had been enough to get funding for at least some measures.
“I am pleased to have your recognition of that,” Romano said magnanimously. “And the more so not to be crammed into Hilton Head, as we were on my previous visit.”
“Yes, I read the security reports on that visit,” Wei answered and saw the Chancellor’s eyes narrow. Romano had circumvented the security arrangements at the Steiner-Davion wedding, and she hadn’t been the only one. “Hilton Head is an HPG station and an administrative center, but not really suited for diplomacy. I try to learn from the mistakes of my predecessors. It is less painful than learning from my own.”
“A lesson that Theodore Kurita has not learned from his father. I doubt Takashi Kurita has fond memories of Terra.”
Wei nodded. “Neither he nor your father found great pleasure in that wedding, and I cannot imagine that their earlier visit was a fond one. It does not surprise me that the Coordinator delegated this visit to his son.” Prior to the wedding where Hanse Davion had so memorably started the Fourth Succession War, each of the two alliances that fought that war had formalized their treaties in person on Terra. Not at the same time, obviously. The meeting between Janos Marik, Maximilian Liao and Takashi Kurita had been by far the less cordial of the two, and now their children would be meeting again, in the company of their enemies.”
Romano glanced away and out at the estate they were passing. “No work being done to clean this one up?”
“Thomas Calderon declined to attend or appoint an ambassador, so it’s not a priority,” Wei explained. “We do intend to clear it up eventually but it isn’t a priority.”
“And yet your ComGuards are manning guard posts around it?”
The Chancellor was neither stupid nor unobservant, Wei thought. “Yes, we thought it best to leave something of a buffer between your security and that of the Federated Commonwealth.” Also, it was a convenient place to hide away the center of Delta’s data gathering efforts. The Lords had been careful to make sure that ComStar couldn’t bug their residences, but that didn’t mean they weren’t trying to gather data themselves about ComStar’s grip on Terra and military preparations. The great game of espionage was still ongoing and Wei could only hope to drain some of the venom from it.
“So they are there and not on the Steiner lands,” mused Romano. “I would have thought that you would want him as far from the rest of us as possible.”
Wei shrugged. “It is their choice. They could have used either or both.” The Steiner estate, the furthest north of the nine, was currently being borrowed by the St Ives delegation but she wasn’t going to mention Romano’s sister unless she had to.
The chancellor leant forwards sharply. “These Clans, you think that I should care about them?”
The change of subject caught Wei slightly offguard, but it wasn’t a topic that surprised her as such. “They view their ancestor’s exile as one they were driven to by the Star League Council.”
“No one forced Kerensky to leave.”
“I know that and you know that, Chancellor. But it is easier for them to see themselves as the victims. And while House Marik and House Kurita were the most hostile towards Aleksandr Kerensky, the vote to strip the man they call the ‘Great Father’ of his command of the SLDF was unanimous. If the Clans do conquer the Federated Commonwealth and the Draconis Combine, I do not think they will stop there.”
“If they manage that,” Romano mused, relaxing slowly. “And Terra. I know they have seized one of your precious enclaves.”
Susquehanna, Wei thought, with some anger. Bad news always finds an ear.
“Do you think they will spare Terra?” the Chancellor asked with a degree of glee.
“Opinion within the First Circuit is divided,” she replied. “For myself, I am seeing our defenses improved.”
“You cannot guard all your enclaves as you do Terra.”
Wei nodded. “That is true. However, after Susquehanna, the Clan’s current leader reported it as ‘testing our resolve’ and that he had concluded we were due some respect for our soldiers’ performance.” And as a remnant of the Star League that had stood up to the Great Houses for centuries, but mentioning that might be inflammatory. “So far there have been no further attacks on our enclaves or shipping. We have some time.”
Romano nodded in understanding. “Let the DCMS and AFFC bleed fighting the Clans, while you look to your own interests. And yet you host this meeting?”
“Our role in sharing information and facilitating diplomacy has not changed,” Wei pointed out.
“Does that include telling the Clans about whatever is agreed here?”
“They have access to the ComStar News Network,” Wei conceded. “It’s surprising how few of them seem to be paying attention to it though.”
The Chancellor sniffed disparagingly. “So you are not on anyone’s side.”
“It’s more a matter of no one being on our side.”
Romano gave a little sigh of disappointment. The aircar was moving towards the hotel complex that ComStar’s technicians had prepared for the conference. “I had expected more from the so-called ‘Most Important Woman in the Sphere’.”
“The… pardon?” Wei asked, baffled.
“Granted,” Romano told her with a wave of her hand. The smile on her face was predatory. “You didn’t know?”
She tilted her head. “I confess to having no idea what you’re referring to.”
“The Federated News Service publishes an annual list of who they consider to be the most important women in the Inner Sphere,” the Chancellor observed. “For the last ten years, Melissa Steiner-Davion has headed the list - unsurprisingly that they fawn over her.” The FNS was one of the Federated Suns’ most influential news outlets, although Wei didn’t recall them for being particularly subservient to the federal government or House Davion. “But apparently this year, you head their list.”
Wei considered this for a moment. She suspected that some of the vitriol was due to Romano not being at the head of this list. “Important to whom?”
The question got a laugh from the older woman as they pulled up outside the hotel. Romano leant forwards. “You’re the biggest target,” she said, as if confiding a great secret.
Then she disembarked, leaving Wei sat in the back of the air car.
After a moment, Wei also climbed out of the vehicle. Rather than joining Romano in entering through the front - fortunately the media were not camped outside to immortalize the fact that the two were arriving in one vehicle - she moved up to one of the heavily but discreetly armed vans supporting the ComGuards security personnel.
Back in the care of her own security, Wei was able to use a mobile terminal to catch up on more of her comm messages as the other lords and ambassadors made their arrivals.
“It’s time to begin,” one of the aides warned her after close to an hour.
Wei thanked the young man and checked her hair and robes. Satisfied, she exited the van and doors were opened that let her go from the side of the hotel to the main meeting room with the minimum of fuss.
The chamber was carpeted in a neutral beige, the walls a light blue where the banners of the states didn’t cover them. A circle of desks provided for the main representatives, with seating behind them for advisors and aides - as well as family members in some cases. Wei recognised Theodore Kurita’s younger children behind him, although they were dressed to fit in with the other advisors. There had been no official statement yet from the Combine to advise that the elder son was dead, most likely it was waiting on Theodore’s return.
On the other side of the circle, Victor Steiner-Davion was seated right behind his parents with no such discretion. He was among those who’d been rushed back from the frontlines, and still looked to be recovering from the repeated jumps. Wei wondered how the Kuritas would take the prince’s survival, when their own had not returned home to them.
Jaime Wolf concluded his opening remarks. “I will now hand over to our hostess. Primus Rong, if you please.”
“Thank you, Colonel.” Wei went to the podium. “Thank you for accepting my invitation, my lords and ladies.”
“I’m surprised you invited us at all,” Hanse Davion said bluntly. Though his hair was now white at the temples, he still showed much the same vigor he had during Wei’s childhood when it seemed that he was all but unstoppable. “Is ComStar taking a stand against the Clans?”
“Not yet,” she said candidly. “But diplomacy has always been one of our roles.”
“And will the Clans see it that way?” asked Theodore searchingly.
Wei gripped the podium. “I have been specifically asked to convey a message to all the House Lords, so it would be strange for them to object to my addressing you.
“A message?” Thomas Marik frowned. “What message?”
“The leader of the Clans has sent the following message,” Wei answered. She brought up the exact text on the podium, to avoid misspeaking. “‘I, Leo Showers, ilKhan of the Clans and head of the Grand Council, address these words to the Successor Lords: We have returned and we will reestablish the Star League. We will tear down all that is corrupt, all that is shameful. The age of the Great Houses is over and the Way of the Clans will enlighten all. I offer you this one opportunity to lay down your arms and surrender. Do so and you shall have a place in this great future. Decline, and the long history of your Houses will end in the fires of war.’” She paused and shrugged slightly. “If you have a reply, we will dispatch it at our own expense.”
The First Prince snorted. “He does not lack hubris.” He glanced at his wife who nodded slightly. “Tell him: ‘Nuts’.”
“Nuts?” Wei asked. Most of the room seemed similarly baffled.
“That one word, exactly.”
Thomas Marik frowned, clearly deep in thought. “Ah,” he said at last. “Yes. That is… fitting.”
The Gunji-no-Kanrei was one of the few who seemed to understand Davion’s meaning. “Yes. The First Prince does not speak for the Draconis Combine, but I feel this conveys our position well. I endorse his reply to the Clans’ ultimatum.”
“I suppose that it won’t be expensive for me to send as a reply then,” Wei conceded. Maybe one of Focht’s officers could tell her what the hell that was about? Nuts? What sort of diplomatic message was that?
-
Unity City Recovery Zone, North America
Terra, Sol System
9 June 3050
The wind blowing in off the Pacific and over the Olympic Pennisula was chilly and Minoru Kuirita was glad of the insulative material used in his jacket as he used a pair of binoculars to observe the remains of the city that still reared out of Puget Sound.
The Stellar Court and the formal embassies still stood, a testament to the advanced materials used for them, but at maximum magnification Minoru could see that their windows had been covered by metal plates. Less prestigious buildings hadn’t been treated as carefully and their windows opened into shadowy voids, glass long since lost.
Beyond the center of the city, the scars that had once been the eastern suburbs were still visible. The legendary last stand of the Black Watch, ended by a pair of nuclear warheads that vaporized the ‘mechs, set the eastern half of Unity City ablaze, and triggered mud-slides that filled the streets with an irradiated soup of soil soaked in winter floodwaters.
Minoru lowered the binoculars, wondering what was keeping Omi. She’d said she was just fetching them both coffee from a nearby van. No doubt the food vendors parked along the broad avenue that looked eastwards over Unity City had been imported by ComStar, perhaps even with acolytes and adepts staffing them, but it did give a feel of being able to get out and see Terra without actually leaving the vicinity of the ruined city.
Turning from the rail, he almost bumped into a taller man - blond and wearing an AFFC-issue overcoat. Clearly someone else had packed for the weather - it might be summer in this part of Terra but the Pacific Northwest wasn’t known for being hot and dry.
“My apologies,” Minoru said with a small bow. Everyone in the delegation had been reminded firmly that anyone they met from another state could be significantly more important than they appeared. While they should not allow themselves to be trampled, Minoru’s parents would hold them all to a high standard of manners.
“I wasn’t paying as much attention as I should have,” the officer said apologetically. “You’re with the Combine delegation.”
“Hai - not that I am very important,” he lied. “Merely a junior officer. Colonel Wolf offered to give an example of Clan military training, so I was brought along to provide a comparison against that of Sun Zhang academy.”
“Ah, I was thinking you might be a veteran back from the front.”
“No, Kommandant.” Minoru adjusted his glasses. “Is that your role here?” Where had Omi gone?
He got a nod. “I was on the last dropship off Trellwan. Kind of figured I’d be sent to Tamar or Tharkad for a debriefing, not here…”
Minoru wondered how he could politely get away. “I was going to get some coffee.”
“Yeah, I’m just waiting for mine,” the man said, looking back over his shoulder, “I’m not sure what… oh for crying out loud.”
The young Kurita prince wasn’t sure what the reason was for the remark but when he side-stepped to look past the AFFC soldier, he saw his sister holding two cups of coffee… and engaged in conversation with a second AFFC soldier, also holding two cups. The two seemed quite engrossed in their discussion. “Your companion?” Minoru asked, looking at the man.
“Yeah, and… I saw her with your delegation, is she… uh…”
“My sister.”
The soldier sighed. “Okay, that could be worse. Look…”
“I am not so bold as to tell my elder sister who she may talk to,” Minoru admitted. “Although…” At that moment, his sister’s conversational partner turned his head slightly and the young prince felt his blood chill as he recognised him. “Although,” he repeated, “I imagine that there are those who would say that I should.”
The other man rubbed his brow. “I’m guessing you know who he is?”
“His face is quite well known,” replied Minoru. “And my sister is hardly so foolish as to not recognise the heir to the Federated Commonwealth’s throne.”
“Okay. I know you may not take this as convincing from me, but he’s not a bad guy.”
Minoru nodded. “I assumed when you mentioned Trellwan that you must know him. I am not concerned about my sister’s ability to protect herself from what actually happens, only about what others may presume happened.” He reminded himself of his father’s advice. Only a fool tries to fight a war on two fronts. Keeping the Federated Commonwealth from taking advantage of their distraction was an important consideration - though they were under attack themselves, there were enough AFFC regiments to seize many of the more exposed industrial worlds and the temptation to do so in order to fuel their own war effort must be part of the First Prince’s thinking. “So long as they are in public, I have no cause for concern.”
“Right.” The older man offered his hand. “I’m Galen.”
“Minoru.” He accepted and shook. “I think we might not get our coffee soon.”
“You may be right.” Galen looked around and indicated a second van, slightly up the hill. “Shall we get our own and then play chaperone from a safe distance?”
That sounded like a plan, so Minoru accompanied his new partner in… conspiracy? Equipped with disposable cups of coffee they made their way back to the railing that separated the boulevard from the steep slope - somewhere they could look along at Omi and Victor.
“Trellwan was invaded by the Jade Falcons,” he observed quietly. “If I may ask… what was it like to fight them?”
Galen considered the question. “Terrifying,” he admitted. “They moved fast and hit harder. They take risks that I wouldn’t - almost to the point that I thought they weren’t worried about their own survival. Not quite, but they’re committed.”
“Aggressive fighters,” Minoru agreed. “That would agree with what I have heard about the Smoke Jaguars and the Diamond Sharks.”
The other officer nodded. “We usually use the DCMS as a benchmark for aggressive tactics, but they smashed right through our center, then wheeled and took out one of our flanks without hesitating. I’d have expected some sparring, feeling us out and then a charge if your commanders found what looked like a weakness. They didn’t do that, they just came at us. Not in disorder, they all picked their targets and brought them down, but they went right in from the beginning.”
Minoru paused. “Yes. The Diamond Sharks…” It was alright to talk about this, he reminded himself. “Because I was coming here, I was allowed access to what information we have about my brother’s battle with them.”
Galen gave him a searching look. “I take it that condolences are in order?”
“My brother died bravely and with honor, but… thank you.” He hesitated. “Please accept my own condolences for your comrades lost on Trellwan.”
They exchanged a nod of mutual understanding.
“The Diamond Sharks also engaged quickly,” Minoru continued. “Their long range firepower was higher than expected. My brother was in reserve. When the main force fell back towards denser terrain, he tried to act as an anchor to reorganize, but the Sharks shifted immediately from long-range engagement into a pursuit that prevented the regiment from ever being able to effectively fight back.”
“That sounds about right. They know what they’re about,” Galen admitted. “Still… I’d be interested in what you find out training with the Dragoons. When we clashed with the Jade Falcons after that first battle, we found them to be… a little too predictable. They have a very good doctrine, but they don’t seem to vary from it. There’s a certain rigidity to their thinking. We exploited that once and it’s how we manage to capture one of their ‘mechs mostly intact.”
“Congratulations.” He saw his sister’s head turn and then saw the moment that she spotted him. Her expression grew chagrined. “Ah, I believe we have been remembered.”
“Looks like it,” Galen agreed and finished his cup of coffee. Then he raised his voice: “Victor, don’t take up waiting as a profession! Coffee is served hot!”
The Archon-Prince-designate flushed as the pair walked over. “My apologies, kommandant. I lost track of time.”
“Yes, I bet you did. Don’t worry about it. I’m a big boy, I can buy my own coffee if I don’t have a hauptmann to send.” Galen gestured to Minoru. “We’re just talking shop, you two can go back to your conversation if you want.”
Omi gave Minoru a cup of lukewarm coffee and a look that said ‘mention this and you will pay’. He accepted the cup and gave her a gracious nod of acceptance of the terms. “Your highness,” he greeted Victor.
“There’s no need to call me that,” the Steiner-Davion prince said with a wince. “We’re fellow officers from… well, our realms may be allies soon. I’m sure that feels as strange to you as it does to me… Chu-i?”
Minoru nodded in confirmation of his rank. “For an ally to have value they must be capable,” he said politely. “And only a fool doubts the Federated Commonwealth’s capability.”
Victor grinned. “Nicely said. And the same for the DCMS.” He looked over at Galen. “No taking advantage of him, sir. I know how you are with impressionable young officers.”
“Don’t worry, hauptmann. I’m sure you can embarrass yourself in front of your new friend without my help.”
“He dislocated my arm,” Victor warned Minoru in a low voice.
Omi looked surprised. “Why?”
“He wouldn’t get on the dropship,” Galen explained.
The two siblings exchanged looks. “Thank you,” Omi concluded. “If you hadn’t, I might not have met Victor.”
That seemed to surprise the prince, but before he could protest, Minoru added: “If someone had done the same with our brother, he might not have been captured.”
Galen frowned. “I thought you said he was dead?”
“Our brother knew entirely too much about the inner workings of the imperial court,” Omi said quietly. “And as a prisoner he would be a propaganda boon. So he arranged to commit seppuku.”
Minoru nodded. “For the sake of your family, I’m glad you weren’t faced with that choice. You are fortunate to have such a good friend.”
“You’re Minoru, this is your sister Omi… Who was your brother?” asked Galen, with an expression that suggested he’d already guessed.
“Hohiro served under a false name, so that he could gain experience without his family status getting in the way,” Minoru said quietly. “He died as Sho-sa Hiro Yamada, Third Battalion, Fourteenth Legion of Vega.”
Unity City Recovery Zone, North America
Terra, Sol System
14 June 3050
Where the Liao estate was styled to look as if it belonged in ancient china, the Marik counterpart had been modern for the time it was built, with a tall angled semi-circle rising up from the hillside, angled to catch such sunlight as reached the Puget Sound. Only the lower levels extended out of that geometric shape.
The Captain-General’s suite was fairly low, opening out onto the roof of one of the lower levels, providing a large patio dotted with planters that obscured views into the rooms - a necessity for security. “I see your people have done a good job of restoring the building,” Wei observed as she was ushered in.
Thomas Marik smiled ruefully. “I wouldn’t want to accommodate guests on the upper floors without more time to restore them, but the lower floors are in good shape. A testament to Star League engineering.” He gestured to some antique wood and leather couches, looking slightly out of place in the stylishly simple lounge.
Wei accepted the indicated seat, finding it as comfortable as any in her own office. She looked at the scarred man sitting opposite her, the man who had come back from a bomb attack to save the Free Worlds League from his cousin’s incompetence, crush the long-standing secession of Andurien and finally rebuild the League from the scarring of two civil wars in his own lifetime. “It seems at times that everything we do is just an effort to reclaim things that have been lost in the past. Even centuries after the end of the Star League, we don’t dare hope that we might exceed that.”
The Captain-General smiled. “There’s a bit of a generation gap, I suppose. You were what - eleven when the Helm Data Core was discovered by Grayson Carlyle - not even born when the Halstead Collection was fought over by Davion and Kurita. For those of us who grew up before that, even to recreate whatever was lost seemed too much to hope for. You grew up with that as a goal everyone thought would be within reach.”
“Perhaps you’re right. If so then I hope that the next generation can have even higher expectations.” She crossed her legs. “The Clans have advanced military technology beyond that of the Star League, but from what Wolf says they haven’t been so innovative in many other fields.”
Marik paused. “Excepting medical technology.”
“That is another example,” she agreed. “Unfortunately, that’s a technology that isn’t easily taken from a battlefield and repurposed.”
“Would you like anything to drink?”
Wei shook her head. “No thank you. Feel free if you want.”
“It would feel rude to drink when you weren’t,” he demurred.
“Because I’m a lady, because I’m a guest or because I’m the Primus.”
“Perhaps a little bit of all them,” Marik admitted. “I may no longer be formally a part of the Order, but as a Blakist I still hold your office in respect.”
Wei smiled. “I hope you aren’t too disappointed in how I’ve used that office.”
“Surprised at times, but perhaps a steadier hand was needed after your predecessor. Myndo Waterly was brilliant, but sometimes… aggressive,” the scarred man allowed.
“That’s one way to put it.”
The Captain-General leant back in his own seat. “I doubt she would have been so hands-off in terms of this conference. As the host, I would have expected you to play more of a role.”
Wei raised one hand to cup her cheek. “If I was leading efforts to fight against the Clans, how could I claim to be neutral?”
“You’re giving the Federated Commonwealth a tremendous boost in terms of access to several key military technologies that they’ve been working to recreate - not just in how to build them but how to build them in the sort of quantities that they need. That doesn’t sound like neutrality to me.”
“I am also sharing that with your own people,” Wei pointed out. “On the other hand, your current stance towards the fighting could be considered neutral.”
That startled the Captain-General. He frowned and leant forwards. “I’m aware that if the Clans break through the Lyran half of the Federated Commonwealth then the Free Worlds League is next.”
She drummed her fingers against her cheekbone. “And yet, I’m seeing more co-operation between House Kurita and House Davion than I am between yourself and any of the realms being attacked. I’m aware that House Steiner and House Marik don’t get along but you’ve even declined to engage with Rasalhague and the Draconis Combine.”
“You’re not talking to Romano Liao about her own attitude?”
Wei gave him a level look.
“Alright, I don’t think anything could convince her to be anything more than…” He considered that for a moment. “Not a disruptive element.”
“I have low expectations there,” agreed Wei. “You, on the other hand…”
“As a Blakist, you feel I should follow your lead?” Marik asked, his smile twisting the scar on his face.
“No.” Wei lowered her hand. “I think you should make intelligent, long term decisions. We’re clearly not on the same page on what those are… so I was hoping to clear that up.”
“I see. I believe that you think I should agree to provide material and even direct military aid to the other three states?”
“I’m aware that military support is a hard sell,” she told him. “Certainly on any large scale. However, selling armaments to them - not giving, I don’t expect miracles - is beneficial to you. You find out what works and what doesn’t. You gain their intelligence data. You increase the chances of not having to fight the Clans on your own worlds.” Spreading her hands. “Alright, that’s my own thinking. What’s yours?”
“The problem is that I’m not a dictator. The other lords are theoretically restrained by other parts of their government, but I have actual constraints in the terms of Parliament. Maybe if it was just selling material, but it’s selling on credit. I understand that they can’t afford to pay up front for the quantities that they’re asking for, but I can’t just snap my fingers and convince Parliament to commit a huge amount of our budget in ways that won’t be repaid for generations? Assuming they even survive to pay it back.”
“Rasalhague?”
“Rasalhague,” he said with a nod.
Wei sighed. She really wished he was wrong there. The Free Republic’s capital of Rasalhague was directly in the path of the Clans. It wasn’t a question of if it would be attacked, it was a matter of when. Months, not years from now.
“You have considerable political capital,” she told him quietly. “I understand not wanting to spend that on a cause that looks lost. That may be lost. But if you don’t spend it now, it may have no value in the future.”
“There is a lot of uncertainty. I would need something concrete. I am trying to find something that they can give that would let me sell this to Parliament.”
“Without having to pay the cost of emptying more than a decade of favors?”
“Yes. If I expend all my resources, I may not remain in power long enough to make sure the deal endures,” Marik explained. “I’m sure you deal with the same issues in your expanded First Circuit. Which was a great idea, by the way. I can see even from the outside how much it’s reducing friction within the Order.”
“Thank you.” Wei leaned forwards. “There’s something you need to consider, Thomas.”
“And what that might be?”
“I lied to Wolf.”
“...pardon?”
“I lied to him,” Wei repeated. “I told him we learned about the Clans from refugees who fled from the Clans’ conquest of the Pentagon worlds. That’s not how it happened.”
Marik shook his head. “I don’t see where you’re going with this.”
“After Nicholas Kerensky unified the Pentagon, one of the Clans broke ranks. To retain control, Kerensky destroyed them and demonized them in the records. I asked Wolf about it in a roundabout way and he really buys into that. They’re ‘something we don’t talk about’. They were ‘destroyed for the good of everyone’. Their word for it is annihilated and according to the Clan law, it means genocide. No one who was part of that Clan can be allowed to exist.”
“And you… learned of this from them?”
“A tiny fraction who escaped.” Wei looked at the scarred face. “We hid them. Filtered them into refugee groups. And their descendants live on. If the Clans learn of this, they will drop everything else to finish the job. Whatever the cost. This was, I must stress, the one time that the Clans decided nuclear weapons were the tool. Right now they want the entire Inner Sphere. But if they learn of the Not-Named… Then those become the priority.”
“And they’re here, on Terra?” he asked.
“Some. And Atreus.”
“What?”
“Most of them don’t know about it. We didn’t know about it, but once I did, tracing them was a matter of crunching the records,” she pointed out. “And we’re really really good at that. Congratulations, Thomas. They will come for you. For your son.”
The Captain-General sat back in his chair. Looked at her. Then laughed. Dry, cold, amused laughter.
Wei arched an eyebrow.
“I wondered for a while if you knew,” he said, once he was done. Once the energy had drained out of him. “And when you came here today, I really thought you did. But apparently you do not. Oh well.” Marik shook his head. “A secret for a secret, Wei Rong. I am…”
“Not the real Thomas Marik,” she said with a nod.
“...”
Wei stood up, looming over him. “I am not going to blackmail you. You’re a good Captain-General, a good Blakist. To be honest, I think you’re a better Blakist and a better Marik than the man you replaced. But I am being completely honest with you. A DNA comparison of your son Joshua and the real Thomas’ daughter Isis would very quickly prove that you’re an imposter. You and Joshua are the functional Judas Iscariot of the Clans’ beliefs. So. Do you really think this is a time to hoard your favors and options? Or is it time to cash them in to win more of them in the future… to have a future that you and he can live on?”
She walked away from him, towards the door. When her hand was on the door handle, he spoke.
“Primus, my son has leukemia.”
Wei nodded, not looking back. “I will request a combined medical effort through Kappa. NAIS has been making strides. I can call in a favor from Emma Centrella and Hanse Davion has everything to gain if this gets him the tools. I’ll even try talking the Clans into sharing something… And who knows, maybe we’ll have something new, something that even the Star League didn’t.”
“Alright.” His voice was little more than a whisper. “You pull your strings and I’ll cut your deal.”
She turned and bowed. “Thank you, Captain-General. I appreciate your willingness to bend on this matter.”
“Perhaps I was wrong. There’s more of Myndo Waterly in you than I thought.”
Wei felt defeated. “Thank you for the lesson in politics, Lord Marik. Let’s see if we can avoid a conversation like this in the future.”
-
Very nicely crafted! I didn't see the Wolverine connection coming. Considering "Tom" was treated on Jardine after the bomb, its logical, even possible in the main reality.
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now that is a twist..... wolverine.
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For what it's worth, given the death of the Royal Black Watch on the Gorst Flats, I've taken Unity City as taking up the Kitsap Peninsula. Bremerton, Silverdale, Bangor and Poulsbo, being the capital city of the Inner Sphere!
Really, it's quite a scenic area, but it can get unpleasantly dreary.
And making Fake Thomas Marik a Wolverine descendent is a major twist.
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Well played all around! :thumbsup:
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For what it's worth, given the death of the Royal Black Watch on the Gorst Flats, I've taken Unity City as taking up the Kitsap Peninsula. Bremerton, Silverdale, Bangor and Poulsbo, being the capital city of the Inner Sphere!
Really, it's quite a scenic area, but it can get unpleasantly dreary.
And making Fake Thomas Marik a Wolverine descendent is a major twist.
A twist which is logically sound.
-
Leo Showers: Is that positive or negative reply?
Comstar adept: Nuts is a very negative reply.
Leo Showers (to himself): But I don't have allergy.
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Meanwhile the Goliath Scorpion Khans snicker in the corner as they get the reference.
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I see that Hanse has an appreciation for the classics. ;D
This might even be better than a more overt reply. Leo Shower will know he was insulted, but will not know how.
To quote Sun-Tzu from the canon timeline: "If this message costs you even one sleepless night, I will consider it well worth the price."
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Given Davion's alleged French heritage (the national anthem is allegedly set to "La Marseillaise") I'm surprised he didn't respond with "Le mot de Cambronne."
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Given Davion's alleged French heritage (the national anthem is allegedly set to "La Marseillaise") I'm surprised he didn't respond with "Le mot de Cambronne."
"Nuts" was used by the winning side. Le Mot was not.
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Getting blasted to pieces in a battle that ends your empire is not exactly an example they are aiming for.
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Getting blasted to pieces in a battle that ends your empire is not exactly an example they are aiming for.
Fair, but "the guard dies, it does not surrender" is still a bad-ass quote.
-
Opalescent Reflections
Dealer’s Choice
Chapter 13
Terra Prime, Apollo
Clan Jade Falcon Occupation Zone
15 June 3050
Joanna had been wrong, which was always something that gave Aidan Pryde a little glow in his heart.
Just occupying the periphery worlds in their path had been enough to convince saKhan Vandervahn Chistu that securing the worlds liberated from the Successor Lords would be a drain on the resources of the galaxies fighting to continue the drive towards Terra. From Chistu the concern had gone to Elias Crichell, who had spoken to Leo Showers.
So, about a month after the main invasion force had set off, additional flotillas had set out carrying garrison units. Not to participate in the invasion, of course. No, that would break the bids that had been made. No, just to secure and pacify worlds that were now under Clan rule.
Granted, Aidan’s cluster was spread across four worlds and he was functioning as a glorified Star Captain right now. But he was in the Inner Sphere.
This wasn’t what he’d expected though, Aidan thought as he ran his Summoner along the side of a highway, trying to keep in sight of the Armored Personnel Carriers that had been recovered from the defeated planetary militia. The wheeled vehicles were quite a bit faster on a road than a Summoner, even if they couldn’t traverse the same variant of terrain that the battlemech would cope easily with.
Right now, in a straight-line run on a road, the sophisticated and powerful battlemech was losing the race. Despite Aidan pushing the Summoner at the sort of speed that would make him an easy and predictable target if anyone fired him. It wasn’t as if he was seriously concerned about being shot at right now, but it was frustrating.
“Star Colonel, the ComGuards are deploying ahead of us,” warned Star Commander Brinton from where he was clinging to the top of one of the APCs. He was the only elemental in his star wearing his armor, the rest were riding inside the APCs and using standard field gear.
Aidan grimaced. “Stop the enemy from crossing the boundary if you can. Do not fire on or near the ComGuards unless fired upon and do not cross the border even if they do.” The Smoke Jaguars had been forced to accept the presence of the spheroid group’s enclaves in order to use their HPGs, but they weren’t exactly getting a lot of cooperation otherwise. From what he had heard, many ComStar personnel were being maliciously compliant when it came to requests from the Clans. So far the other Clans were getting much more consideration and Aidan did not want to be the one to ruin that for the Jade Falcons. Let someone else incur the Khan’s anger.
He could just barely see the APCs open up with their machine guns, short bursts of fire reaching ahead.
Traffic had already pulled off the highway and Aidan had to steer wider to avoid a cluster of groundcars. By the time he reached the border, the gunfire had ended and he saw the APCs had pulled up short of a barrier across the highway.
Or rather, what was left of the barrier. The van that was being chased had flipped onto one side and skidded across the line, smashing through one of the small buildings that separated lanes of traffic. On the far side, a pair of APC in ComGuards white were sealed up with their turreted machineguns aimed across the border at the three technically identical APCs that had been repainted with the Jade Falcon emblem.
“Sir,” Brinton reported, his armor standing next to one of the APCs. The elemental had his machinegun lowered non threateningly. Not that he likely felt threatened: the two APCs with their attached troops would likely have difficulty stopping him alone. More than twenty of his peers would tip the balance entirely in his favor, which was not to mention Aidan and the other two ‘mechs he’d brought with him. “We could capture them.” he indicated where three ComGuards troopers were dragging an equal number of people out of the van.
“I have no doubt,” Aidan told him. “However, our orders are different.”
He dropped his Summoner to a kneel behind APCs and activated his speakers. “Is anyone injured?”
Another voice came from one of the white APCs. “Aside from the people your lot were shooting at? No - the guy in the booth got out of the way.”
“Good.” Aidan focused his cameras closer in on the van. The occupants were what he’d expected - two men and a woman, dressed sturdily for cold weather. All three had sidearms, although the ComGuards were promptly removing them.
“Those are ComStar’s warriors?” the youngest of his three warriors asked as her Nova came to rest next to Horse’s Summoner. She was freeborn and had only joined the Cluster right before they departed - Horse had taken the woman under his wing to an extent.
Horse chuckled. “Police warriors, young Diana.”
They weren’t wrong, Aidan thought. All three ComGuards he could see were carrying more weight around their waist than he would have tolerated among members of his Cluster, even the support staff. But they were armed and at least seemed to know what to do with the weapons - keeping them out of the reach of the trio that the Falcons had been chasing.
“I req-”
Aidan’s words were cut off as flames erupted from the back of the van. The ComGuards scrambled backwards in alarm, the oldest literally falling over backwards. They dragged their captives with them as the fire began to consume the vehicle..
“Stravag,” Horse cursed. “They wired it to be destroyed.”
“Aff,” Aidan agreed. “I offer the assistance of my personnel and their fire extinguishers.”
“That won’t be necessary,” the woman who’d spoke from the APC earlier. A moment later the back of each ComGuards APC opened and pairs of troops moved out, each carrying small fire-fighting kits emerged and began to spray the van down. A handful more headed for a building set back from the border, obviously to gather additional equipment.
Aidan nodded. “Brinton, pull your Star back and give us a perimeter. Inform the traffic they can get back on the road but this crossing may be out of use for the rest of the day - they can wait if they want or try another route.”
“And those three?” The elemental gestured towards the trio across the other side of the pine marked on the road.
“We were just a little too late,” the Star Colonel informed him. “I will take it from here.”
He shut down his ‘mech and unstrapped. “Horse, give me cover if anyone does anything stupid. Diana, you are with me.”
“What if you are the one doing something stupid?” his old friend asked.
Aidan cracked his canopy and sniffed as the smell of smoke entered. “Even if it is me.” Then he removed his helmet and started climbing down.
By the time he was dismounted and reached the border line, the ComGuards had run a hose back from their discreet guard post and were spraying down the blackened remains of the van. Seeing him, a woman in battledress walked over. He recognised the rank badge as that of an Acolyte XV before she saluted. “Section Leader Burzoe Sohma.”
“Star Colonel Aidan Pryde,” he said as he returned her salute. “The occupants of the van are insurgents against our government. I regret the damage they caused to your border post and request their return.”
Burzoe - it felt wrong to use her family name, she was clearly not bloodnamed - shook her head. “They have requested asylum, Star Colonel. I must take that seriously.”
He frowned. “You have your orders, of course. But is ComStar going to give sanctuary to those striking at our garrison. I understand that your Order claims neutrality.”
“No, Star Colonel. However, we have strict rules.”
“Assume I am unfamiliar with them and you will not be wrong,” Aidan told her.
“They are criminals,” mechwarrior Diana accused as she joined them.
“One woman’s freedom fighter is another’s criminal,” pointed out Burzoe. She gave Aidan a questioning look.
“My… aide, Diana,” he explained. “I am the garrison commander. Please explain your rules. Perhaps there is some middle ground we can agree upon.” He doubted it, but a better understanding of ComStar’s rules of engagement would be helpful to him and perhaps also to Diana.
Burzoe exhaled and adjusted the hang of the rifle over her shoulder. “Someone who claims asylum can take sanctuary within ComStar’s enclaves and we do not allow others to recover them. We will provide you with their names, faces and other identifying marks for your own records. If they go back across the border, they’re on their own - we won’t let them back into the enclave and if they manage then we’ll hand them back. Claiming asylum means that they’re out of the war.”
“They just walk away without consequence?” protested Diana.
“If you can provide evidence of crimes, we may be willing to extradite,” the section leader allowed. “That’s above my head - you’d have to take it up with the Precentor. It’s pretty rare, you’d have to prove that they were committing crimes that aren’t justifiable as political or military action. What did they do?”
“They attacked and stole from one of the government buildings,” Aidan explained.
Burzoe shook her helmeted head. “That’s pretty legitimate for warfare. I can give you their weapons back - they shouldn’t need them.”
“And the van?” enquired Aidan, indicating the wreck.
“Sure. Saves me removing it,” she agreed immediately. “Your mech has hands?” the ComGuards officer asked Diana.
“Aff.”
“I’ll let you cross the line just far enough to pick it up and carry it back. If you try any further…”
The young mechwarrior smirked. “What would you do?”
Aidan reached over and smacked the mechwarrior lightly across the back of her head. “The section leader has a radio, mechwarrior. And we use their HPG. The khans will not value you more than that service. Go get in your ‘mech and recover the van.”
He watched the young freeborn head back towards the Nova and then turned back to Burzoe, shrugging apologetically. “She’s young.”
“Daughter? Cousin?”
Aidan frowned. “I do not understand.”
“You’re related, right? It’s kind of obvious.”
“I do not believe so. My genetic offspring are not old enough to join the invasion.” His DNA had only been used in two sibkos, both times by minor bloodhouses in a patrilineal fashion so none would have any chance to claim the Pryde bloodname. His bloodname assured him of inclusion, but not of being used matrilineally by his own Bloodhouse.
Aidan frowned. Now that he thought of it, Diana did remind him slightly of his sibkin Marthe. But many Jade Falcons looked somewhat alike, as a result of the breeding programme. Probably some warrior washout was in Diana’s recent ancestry. Or even a non-washout, although he would have thought he would have heard gossip about any trueborns fathering children. It was a Wolf trueborn that had fathered the notorious Jaime Wolf and Joshua Wolf, which did nothing to encourage the practice among Jade Falcons. “It is possible we are distantly related.”
“If you say so.” The ComGuards woman didn’t seem convinced, but it was even less her business than it would be Aidan’s. “What did they steal?”
The two of them backed away as Diana’s Nova began to move. Burzoe issued a warning to her troops, who backed away from the no-longer burning van.
Aidan took the time to consider whether to answer the question. But it would have to be discussed with the Precentor anyway unless there was a lot of unburned…
The back of the van broke open as Diana lifted it, spilling burned C-bill notes out onto the road. Evidently someone had ripped open the stacks so that they’d burn in the fire.
Most hadn’t been completely burned but as the wind scattered, Aidan didn’t see any that weren’t damaged to some extent. “I don’t suppose that ComStar would accept these still?” he asked, catching one of them out of the air.
“Ah… no,” Bursoe said drily. “Damaged letters of credit are invalidated.”
“I thought not.” Aidan crumpled what was left of it in his hand. “I think I will need to make an appointment with your Precentor to discuss how we pay for the use of Apollo’s HPG in the future.” To be fair, the planetary government’s C-bill reserves were never going to last forever but until now that had been a problem for the future. Now it had become more pressing and Aidan had a suspicion that whatever he he agreed would turn into a precedent for the Jade Falcons or even for all the Clans going forwards.
Unexplored territory, he thought to himself. Like one of the explorers he’d read of in the ancient books he and Horse had uncovered.
Hilton Head, North America
Terra, Sol System
23 June 3050
Lionel Singh was the third person to hold the position of Precentor Rho since Wei Rong took over as Primus. She hoped he would last longer than the others. He’d ticked the box of field operations, having lost one leg in the shadow war against MIIO and LIC that had raged for half of Wei’s life.
Oddly, that didn’t seem to have turned him against the Federated Commonwealth. The Regulan-born field operator had told Wei when she interviewed him that it was ‘just business’ and that the team of operators he’d been up against had paid the price for taking the matter more personally than he did.
Wei wasn’t sure what it said about her that she hadn’t investigated further, even though she certainly had the access to read the reports of that incident if she chose. Perhaps that she was, as Marik said, becoming more like Myndo Waterly.
In any case, while she didn’t particularly like Singh, she respected his intelligence and his restraint. Dismantling the old Rho-Omicron strike teams was a delicate matter - these were some of the most dedicated and capable people ComStar had ever trained. Making them feel betrayed could - and in two cases she knew of had - turn into events better left for DBC spy-thrillers.
“How can I help you, Primus?” he asked, rising from his seat and bowing courteously as she entered his office.
Wei glanced appreciatively at the tapestry that decorated the wall of the office before answering. It was one of Singh’s few luxuries, something he’d reportedly had to save up for years even on a relatively generous salary to have made for him. Wool and linen threads, with the occasional silk and metal displayed the history of the Order through subtle imagery that would seem innocuous to an outsider but spoke far more pointedly to those in the know.
“I have a mission for your division,” she told him at last, sitting down facing the Precentor.
He returned to his own chair. “We serve, Primus. It is, if I may say, unusual for you to come here.”
“Besides missing the chance to see your tapestry again, I’m not officially back on this side of the continent,” she explained. “I’m not really needed at the conference right now - mostly it’s talking details, or more technical matters that I’m not able to contribute to.” Wei gave a slight smile. “I’m sure the Precentor Martial would have a great deal to say about the assault ‘mech that Davion and Kurita’s engineers are designing together, but I’m better leaving our own participation to the more technically minded of our adepts and Skobel’s people.”
“Who will, I am sure, be able to contribute to our own production of the… I believe it’s being called a Gunslinger?” asked Singh wryly. “I have a few people there to make sure.”
“I didn’t doubt it,” Wei assured him. “As host it’s best if I’m believed to be on hand, but there are a few things I felt should be dealt with face-to-face. This is one of them.”
Singh spread his hands, inviting her to continue.
“The Clans are preparing for a third wave of attacks,” she set the scene. “And none of the lords or military advisors have much hope of stopping that. It’ll still be months before the DCMS and AFFC are in position to mount a serious counter-offensive, assuming that they even plan one at this point. It means more worlds will come under the rule of the Clans and reports indicate that that’s a very mixed experience.”
“For both occupied and occupiers,” Singh observed. “Precentor Cameron and I have had some interesting conversations and it doesn’t appear that the Clans have had any significant outside contact in some time. Which is surprising given their economic situation. I would have expected them to have looked for other outlying colonies that they could pick off. The Explorer Corps has found enough lost colonies that there should have been some in their vicinity.”
Wei gripped the arms of her chair. “My limited understanding of information gathering is that setting up infiltration of the new government arrangements will be easiest during this period of transition?”
“Yes and no,” the former saboteur told her. “There are more openings to insert agents to be recruited into the new hierarchy, but with arrangements still fluid there is a greater risk of our choices being sidelined as the positions they occupy may be less important than we initially conclude. And of course, the uppermost levels of their leadership are reserved to the closed circle of imports from their homeworlds.”
“As much as I present ComStar as being neutral towards the Clans, I don’t believe that will last,” she said quietly. “I want to be as favorably placed as possible when that break comes, but it will almost certainly mean that I’ll need to form common cause with the Successor States.”
Singh nodded. “It appears that you are wrestling with whatever you are going to ask of my division, Precentor.”
“I suppose that I had the naive idea that I could lead ComStar without resorting to the more morally dubious… no, the more abhorrent options that are available to me as Primus.”
“Speaking as someone who has carried out those options,” he replied, “I am glad that you are not taking the decision lightly in either direction. My people operate far better knowing that there is a moral consideration behind their orders. We know, as those on Terra often do not, how ugly our missions are. We take a certain pride that we can carry them out, but only the very worst take pride in doing so.”
Wei thought that that was a fairly fine distinction but if it worked for those involved then who was she to criticize? “In order to slow the Clans down, I wish to encourage resistance movements,” she said. “My understanding is that we currently have something of a surplus of personnel with the sort of skills needed to cause problems for the Clans?”
That got a thin smile from Singh. “We’ve discussed that surplus more than once, Primus. Although even if I send everyone we haven’t reassigned, barring the joint training cadre… I assume that you don’t want to gut our future capabilities in that way?”
That was rather a strong assumption when using the word ‘want’, but Wei had to admit that since she was here and asking to use that capability, she would be foolish to actually follow through with the impulse. “Just the personnel available for long-term assignment without crippling other activities.”
“That is a large number of people as such matters go, but the Clans have taken several dozen worlds and, as you say, they are likely to take more. They’ll be spread thin,” pointed out Singh. “What I would suggest is sending them prepared to recruit and train native insurgents. That would require them to operate relatively more openly, but it also means less exposure to direct action that could get them captured.”
“Given that the Clans finding out who is behind them, reducing our risks there is a concern,” Wei agreed. “How practical would it be to hide their allegiance from those that they recruit though.”
“Not too difficult,” he said. “False flagging operations is fairly routine as these things go. It’s virtually certain that the LIC have action teams being sent into Tamar for exactly this sort of thing, and the same in the Combine and the Republic, so our people would fit right into what the locals would find plausible.”
“Doesn’t that raise the risk of running into genuine operatives?”
Singh gave Wei a look of polite toleration. “That is also normal. On an interstellar scale, knowing what the fingers on one hand are doing is good coordination. The other hand, much less the feet, are usually a mystery to those on the ground. Sometimes due to poor organization, sometimes due to competing factions and sometimes simply because redundant cells not aware of each other is good tradecraft. In the Combine worlds, for example, the actual ISF might be mildly annoyed at a ‘rogue cell’ having been sent by one of the more conservative elements in their society, but they will not be surprised or actively hostile.”
“I will be more than happy to take your word for it,” Wei told him.
“Thank you.” Singh glanced over at the tapestry. “The fact that you’ve given us broad directions and latitude to do our jobs has been welcome to most of my immediate subordinates. We’re used to a more hands-on approach from the First Circuit level and there was concern that not having a single Precentor ROM would increase it.”
She shrugged. “If I could do your job better than you could, I’d have probably made a poor choice in assigning you - and since senior personnel decisions all cross my desk that would likely mean I wasn’t very good at my own job.”
The man chuckled. “That’s a very practical approach. The other advantage, at least as I see it, is that if we’re sending teams that are intended to recruit and direct native resistance then we can tap into pools other than direct operators. That means we’ll actually be sending more people than we would otherwise… by which I mean, the people who we’ve been trying to steer out of mischief.”
Wei arched her eyebrows. “By directing their mischief at others.”
“I believe it is said that the Christian Devil makes work for idle hands,” he observed. “More seriously, even the operators who realize that not being sent into the field just means that things are going well can get a little twitchy when they’ve not got something to do. They’ll be very happy to be sent out and feel useful again.”
“If you think it’ll work,” she told him. “I’d prefer if we can bring them all back after a few years, although I can’t guarantee that.”
Singh raised his eyebrows. “Even if they’re problem-children?”
“I’m doing well if only forty-nine percent of the Order are unhappy with the direction I’m taking the order,” Wei pointed out. “And I don’t intend to be one of the Primus’ who try to crush alternative viewpoints. It’s not as if I’m always wrong. My concern with the former Omicron personnel isn’t that they’re disloyal to ComStar, just that they might try to destabilize the Order in misguided attempts to ‘save’ it from me.”
He snorted. “Well, I may put a few teams together that are like-minded and hint that you had to be talked into authorizing this sort of operation. It’ll make them feel better to know you can be persuaded.”
“That strikes me as proper personnel management,” she told him. “Obviously if any of them are caught and it comes out that they’re from ComStar…”
“Suicide methods are standard,” Singh assured her without batting an eyebrow. “And if it comes to it, they know you’ll disclaim them as renegades.”
Wei shook her head. “It’s a peculiar sort of loyalty that doesn’t expect the same from me in return.”
“It’s the nature of black operations,” Precentor Rho told her quietly. “Think of it as them receiving that loyalty in advance - the training, trust and equipment we give them is a downpayment for them to repay in the field. As long as you keep them in mind - in aggregate, if not individuals - then you’ll be doing as much or more than most of the Successor Lords.”
The Primus kept her shoulders from slumping. “Yes. Speaking of whom, I have a flight due to take me back to supervising the lot of them.”
“I hope your supply of long spoons holds out.”
She looked at Singh in a questioning way.
“‘When you sup with the devil…’” he quoted.
“Ah.” Wei shook her head. “I believe that the problem here is that we all have very long spoons. Too long to feed ourselves… but if I can keep them on point then perhaps we can all feed each other.”
-
CWS Dire Wolf, New Oslo
Clan Wolf Occupation Zone
4 July 3050
The command bridge of the Dire Wolf was a tense place.
It never helped the mood of the technicians and warriors crewing the cruiser, the pride of Clan Wolf’s fleet, to have the ilKhan stalking around the room as if looking for something to find fault with. Intended at one time for an admiral commanding a squadron, the command bridge’s holotank had quite a lot of space for stalking around, unlike much of the rest of the Dire Wolf. Like any warship, the vessel was intended to be more functional than comfortable - at least outside of the crew quarters. Ulric Kerensky suspected his old rival liked to stake out the bridge for that reason rather than to needle at the crew, since they weren’t important enough for Showers to worry about. But he wasn’t entirely sure.
Today the situation was exacerbated because there were more Smoke Jaguars aboard. Most of the bridge crew were absent to make room, leaving only those operating the holotank itself. The other crew, along with dozens of other warriors from both Clans had found their way to the observation level above.
The door onto the command bridge opened and Ulric let the standard-bearer through. All the formalities were being observed, so Mechwarrior Poul was wearing dress uniform, with a wolf-skin cape as he carried the flag of Clan Wolf into the bridge.
Through the door, Ulric could see a second warrior mirroring Poul’s entry, this one carrying the Smoke Jaguar flag and similarly clad in the furs of the other Clan’s totem. It was a solemn moment, suitable to the seriousness of what they were here to do. Both flags were carried towards the ilKhan, who stood equidistant between the doors at the side of the holo-tank. At the same moment, the two standard-bearers reached Showers, saluted, and then turned to stand flanking him.
Ulric took a deep breath, squared his shoulders and made his own entrance.
Across the bridge, he saw Lincoln Osis entering. The door hatches were sized for elementals to enter in armor if they had to, but between his personality and his bulk, the Khan of Clan Smoke Jaguar seemed to fill the doorway completely. It was a reassurance that the formality of the occasion would preclude any direct violence, because Ulric had no delusions that he could best the younger Khan in an unaugmented Trial of Grievance.
Fortunately, this was another sort of challenge - one where wits and experience would count for more than brute strength. Not, he thought, that Osis was without some intelligence. Even in the Smoke Jaguars, one could not become Khan merely on strength.
The two Khans walked out into the holotank and stopped facing each other. Osis glared. Ulric smiled a touch tolerantly. This was his home ground, not the Smoke Jaguar’s. Both turned as one to salute the ilKhan.
Showers returned the salute sharply. “Welcome trothkin,” he declared - speaking more to the gallery than to those sharing the room with him. “We are here in prelude to the invasion of one of the greatest targets we face in our invasion so far, the world of Rasalhague. Since before the days of the Star League, this world has been a jewel of the Inner Sphere. Today it stands as a national capital, a center of industry and wealth. The inhabitants of this one world alone exceed in numbers all the people of the Kerensky cluster. Bringing the Way of the Clans to them is a great work, a noble deed.”
He paused and the holotank lit up, displaying the globe of the planet ahead of them. “Rasalhague does not stand undefended. While it is not seat to one of the great houses, they still must be counted one of the chief scavengers upon the remains of the noble Star League. Our intelligence reports have measured the defenders as two full regiments of the Kungsarme’s battlemechs, along with an additional frontline battalion, as many as four battalions of militia battlemechs and more than twenty regiments of infantry and armor. ComStar’s Precentor-Martial has stated his inability to confirm the degree of aerospace forces present beyond an estimate that they are formidable in number, including at least one elite formation - the Flying Drakons.”
Ulric thought that unfair to Focht - he had given more information than that, citing that the numbers were at least a hundred. Showers knew that, but it did not please the ilKhan to show more respect to ComStar than he had to. The costly battle of Susquehanna had not been the ‘test’ that Osis and Weaver claimed, and neither Smoke Jaguar would have bid for control of a ComStar enclave without clearing the decision with the ilKhan.
“My staff has determined the cut-down for the invasion at five Clusters,” Showers declared. Icons sprang up to indicate both the defenders as well as the forces that Showers was suggesting would be needed. “In addition, additional aerospace fighters and warships to provide cover for the landings. The defender’s numbers, added to the extent of settlement, suggests that a lengthy campaign will be required. Forces may need to be committed for as many as six months, making them unavailable for three waves of the invasion.”
Ulric saw movement out of the corner of his eyes. Up in the gallery, young Phelan had reached the front and was looking down at them. The Khan of Clan Wolf was betting on the bondsman’s analysis against that of the ilKhan’s entire staff… which would probably offend the Jade Falcons and Smoke Jaguars who made up most of that body.
“Rasalhague’s location is within Gamma corridor,” the ilKhan noted. “However, Clan Wolf has bid successfully on other worlds along the border between Beta and Gamma corridor, including the world we currently orbit.” Showers almost didn’t sound angry about that. Almost. New Oslo was actually closer to Terra than Rasalhague, so Clan Wolf was not only encroaching on the Smoke Jaguars’ corridor, they were also ahead. “Khan Kerensky, is it still your desire to bid for the right to invade Rasalhague.”
“My ilKhan, I confirm my willingness to claim this honor.”
Leo Showers bared his teeth. “Khan Osis, do you yield?” he asked in a cursory fashion.”
“Neg,” the Elemental spat. “Clan Smoke Jaguar will yield no more of our corridor to Khan Kerensky’s greed.”
“Very well.” The ilKhan folded his arms. “Then I confirm the two of you as the parties bidding. Khan Osis, as this is your corridor, you are the Bidder Prime and may begin.”
Osis took up one of the control wands and a new array of icons appeared beside Rasalhague. Cluster after Cluster of the Smoke Jaguars - all of Delta and Epsilon Galaxy, backed by two of the Clan’s destroyers and their escorting aerospace forces. A conservative bid - and it would be hard for the Smoke Jaguars to take the rest of their targets with only Beta Galaxy to carry the rest of the Third Wave.
“I have no intention of waging a slow campaign,” the Smoke Jaguar Khan declared. “We will crush Rasalhague before the Third Wave ends - and…” he adjusted the wand, adding one additional daggerstar of forces. “I invite the ilKhan to see the Smoke Jaguars take Rasalhague in person.”
Showers inclined his head slightly in acceptance.
Bidding the ilKhan himself? That was more bold than Ulric had expected. Leo Showers was determined to take the world for his clan, regardless of the fact that an ilKhan was supposed to remain neutral. Not that any had ever been, as far as Ulric was aware.
He ignored the Smoke Jaguar bid, considering the globe that spun before him. The southern continent, with its own formidable defenses, was in view. From what Phelan said, those forces would be unavailable at this time of year. A seasonal disease would render them irrelevant - they could not fight back effectively for the next month. It was why Ulric had paced his Clan’s advance so that he could strike at the northern continent now.
The forces to the north, around the capital of Reykjavik, were precisely as Ulric expected. The strongest point on Rasalhague… but if it was taken, the key to collapsing the other defenders.
“I agree with Khan Osis,” he said quietly. “I too feel that Rasalhague can be taken in weeks, not months. My bid.”
The added icons of his bid appeared in the holotank, facing Osis’ like two rival armies - which was exactly what they represented.
Alpha Galaxy, backed by just the Dire Wolf and no additional aerospace forces at all. Half the Smoke Jaguar bid, and precisely upon the cutdown - the recommended minimum forces.
Leo Showers’ eyes narrowed in calculation, but Lincoln Osis glowered in humiliation at having his initial bid undercut so far. With a snap of his wand, Epsilon Galaxy vanished from the display, as did the ilKhan’s own bodyguard unit. The Smoke Jaguar galaxy was smaller than Clan Wolf’s making this a narrowly lower bid than that which Ulric had made. But it was also clearly a selection of some existing units from the bid - not a prepared drop to a calculated force. And still heavier on aerospace - clearly Osis was taking the Rasalhague fighter strength more seriously than Showers had. “My new bid,” the elemental growled.
Ulric nodded in understanding, then replaced Alpha Galaxy’s numbers with a truncated force of just four Clusters. He could imagine the muttering up above in the gallery as he so cavalierly went below the cutdown.
“Khan Kerensky, beware of overconfidence,” warned Leo Showers, his tone warning Ulric that the Smoke Jaguars would not cede Rasalhague lightly - not even to this.
“Overconfidence?” he asked and adjusted his bid further, removing the Dire Wolf. “I am certainly confident in this bid, ilKhan. Although perhaps the Inner Sphere would say I was ‘nuts’, quiaff?”
The reply of the Successor Lords had been conveyed by the Precentor Martial, who had been quite courteous in explaining its brevity, referring to a - perhaps apocryphal - conflict of Terra’s ancient past. The Goliath Scorpion khans had been fascinated and had left the meeting as soon as they could, apparently eager to see if they could find reference to Bastogne in their archives. Most of the other Khans had been more infuriated by the implied insult.
“The arrogance of the Successor Lords will be their undoing. Do not make that mistake yourself.”
“Arrogance is indeed the undoing of many leaders,” Ulric agreed with the ilKhan. “So far we have taken fewer than seventy worlds over two waves and we have advanced only a few jumps into the Inner Sphere. My Clan has taken fewer worlds than the Jade Falcons or Diamond Sharks -” Only one less than Ian Hawker had boasted of though, and more than the Smoke Jaguars - thanks to careful bidding along the boundary of the corridors. “- so perhaps they do not take us seriously. I intend to show them that they are wrong.”
Or, he thought, provoke you into a bid you cannot win with. If Rasalhague repels you, the Crusader cause will be undermined. How superior will we look if the weakest of the Successor States can defeat the mighty Smoke Jaguars?
Lincoln Osis made a slashing gesture, shaving away one of his own warships, then an entire Cluster - and stripping away the ‘mechs from another. It left him four clusters on paper, plus the aerospace support detached from their parent warships. One of those clusters would be light on hitting power, with only elementals and aerospace power, but for fighting in the cities of Rasalhague, elementals might be more important than ‘Mechs.
Ulric looked at the map again, eyeing Reykjavik. If Phelan had predicted the reactions of the Republic’s Elected Prince correctly then leaving the capital uncovered would lead him to relocate his government. It might even be a better move than fighting, taking the long view that a world could be retaken. But that would leave the garrison force there as irrelevant.
Of course, if Phelan was wrong, then Reykjavik might require a brutal and costly siege. The Khan imagined what he knew of Haakon Magnusson. The man was reportedly already on his way back from meeting the other leaders of the Successor States. He knew his capital was on the frontlines… and he must realize he was heading into the fire.
Would a man doing that withdraw?
It seemed counter-intuitive, but Ulric thought that his bondsman was correct. The Free Rasalhague Republic was very much the work of Magnusson, he had been its only ruler so far. He was returning because he felt only he could take the lead. Given an out though, he would justify departing again to himself.
“Khan Kerensky, do you wish to bid again?” asked Leo Showers impatiently.
“Oh?” Ulric looked up. “Yes, I was merely considering the campaign to be fought.” He reached out and used the wand to bring out his final bid.
Three clusters, unsupported, hung in mid-air. Enough to sweep the northern continent, save for Reykjavik. To take that city if it was evacuated. And enough to move south later, when the local disease had run its course.
Lincoln Osis stepped forwards, almost overlapping the icons of his own last bid. “I bid this!”
The last of the Smoke Jaguars warships was gone from the bid, and then one of the intact clusters.
Leo Showers’ face twisted into a scowl. Barely half the recommended ground forces and no warships to anchor the landing. He clearly thought his successor as khan was being far too reckless.
Ulric thought for a moment. “That is indeed a very confident bid.” He was careful to visibly consider his own last bid, comparing it to that of the Smoke Jaguar.
“So?” demanded Osis.
It might be enough. If Osis knew everything Ulric did, if he had a strategy at least as effective… and if he was willing to take heavy losses. Which… well, that last might be.
“I believe,” the Khan of the Wolves said thoughtfully, “That I might be able to take Rasalhague with the forces you have bid… but not with even one point less. Let the bidding end here: Clan Wolf recognises that Rasalhague has been won as an objective by Clan Smoke Jaguar.”
Up in the gallery, Smoke Jaguar warriors howled in triumph.
Ulric wondered how many of them would live to see victory on Rasalhague; assuming, of course, that Osis proved capable of taking hold of the world at all.
A/N: there are 2 chapters to go of Dealer's Choice, the first book of this story. While I've managed chapters on a roughly 48 hour schedule so far, this may slip a little as I've not got a lot of buffer left. So if anyone is frantically hitting the refresh button on the 27th or 29th, in the immortal words of Douglas Adams "Don't Panic".
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The Jaguars are in for a quagmire. I don't expect the Wolves to share their intel, so they won't be landing in the right places. There could be accusations of bad-faith bidding, but it's not the fault of Ulric that they decided to go lower.
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Jags really shot themselves in the foot here, all the irritations they suffered coalescing into this moment of terrible strategic miscalculation. If he breaks the bid he only gets additional cluster and a warship, so we can probably expect ortillery bonanza once Osis gets too frustrated.
It’s not as if I’m always wrong.
But she is always W.Rong.
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The way Primus Rong's agenda and world view come in conflict with the realities and secrets of the Order is very well thought out. To have her reforms fall right into the Clan Invasion is brilliant, it gives the necessary urgency to come to compromises within the Order and without. It also provides the Sphere-wide political shake-up that necessitates others to put more faith into Rong's ComStar faster than they otherwise might have reason to do.
Overall, an immensely enjoyable story. Thank you, drakensis, for yet another great read.
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The way Primus Rong's agenda and world view come in conflict with the realities and secrets of the Order is very well thought out. To have her reforms fall right into the Clan Invasion is brilliant, it gives the necessary urgency to come to compromises within the Order and without. It also provides the Sphere-wide political shake-up that necessitates others to put more faith into Rong's ComStar faster than they otherwise might have reason to do.
Overall, an immensely enjoyable story. Thank you, drakensis, for yet another great read.
To be fair, Rong´s ComStar also gives others far more reason to put more faith in them than canonical ComStar did under Mori. She´s openly helping the Successor Lords organise the defense against the Clans, and unlike Mori´s quiet assistance to the Clans, Rong is pretty straightforward about ComStar´s relationship with the Clans.
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I do wonder if the Primus's knowledge of the fake Thomas Marik will lead her to question what happened to the real one.
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I do wonder if the Primus's knowledge of the fake Thomas Marik will lead her to question what happened to the real one.
I wouldn´t be surprised if she only ever uncovered an "unofficial official" version of events in which the real Thomas Marik died of his injuries.
FWIW I also don´t understand why nobody ever took steps to remove Isis Marik, given that a simple blood test would reveal she´s not related to the fake Thomas, while it was previously proven that she is indeed related to the real one. I mean, it´s not like she is important enough in the greater scheme of things not simply arrange an "accident" for her to tie up loose ends.
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No worries on pacing Drakensis! We'll be here whenever you post something new! :)
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Drakensis is really spoiling us rotten with the quality and speed of his writing, but I think most of us are mature enough not to mind some changes to his writing schedule.
24 hours later
[Sam Kinison voice] ''Write faster, damn you, write faster!!!''
FWIW I also don´t understand why nobody ever took steps to remove Isis Marik, given that a simple blood test would reveal she´s not related to the fake Thomas, while it was previously proven that she is indeed related to the real one. I mean, it´s not like she is important enough in the greater scheme of things not simply arrange an "accident" for her to tie up loose ends.
From what I recall, when he returned, they ran a number of tests to confirm he is really Thomas Marik and after those tests turned positive, it would be poor form to demand repeated testing. Removing Isis would also do nothing but arouse suspicion, as there are plenty other Mariks that he could be tested against.
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From what I recall, when he returned, they ran a number of tests to confirm he is really Thomas Marik and after those tests turned positive, it would be poor form to demand repeated testing. Removing Isis would also do nothing but arouse suspicion, as there are plenty other Mariks that he could be tested against.
Yeah IIRC they´d secretly replaced the DNA samples he was tested against. But a test between Isis and Joshua ended up giving it away in the end.
And I´m not sure removing Isis would arouse suspicion - precisely because there were so many other Mariks to test against. If anything, it would have looked like attempt to remove the bastard offspring that could be used as a pawn by those who wanted to keep Joshua from inheriting.
Or, for that matter, someone could have planted evidence that showed the tests which confirmed Isis as Thomas´ daughter to be clever forgeries.
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“Khan Kerensky, do you wish to bid again?” asked Leo Showers impatiently.
“Oh?” Ulric looked up. “Yes, I was merely considering the campaign to be fought.” He reached out and used the wand to bring out his final bid.
Three clusters, unsupported, hung in mid-air. Enough to sweep the northern continent, save for Reykjavik. To take that city if it was evacuated. And enough to move south later, when the local disease had run its course.
Lincoln Osis stepped forwards, almost overlapping the icons of his own last bid. “I bid this!”
The last of the Smoke Jaguars warships was gone from the bid, and then one of the intact clusters.
Leo Showers’ face twisted into a scowl. Barely half the recommended ground forces and no warships to anchor the landing. He clearly thought his successor as khan was being far too reckless.
Ulric thought for a moment. “That is indeed a very confident bid.” He was careful to visibly consider his own last bid, comparing it to that of the Smoke Jaguar.
So that's... two full strength clusters, a cluster of just Elementals + ASFs, and nominal ASF coverage during the orbital phase vs:
"...two full regiments of the Kungsarme’s battlemechs, along with an additional frontline battalion, as many as four battalions of militia battlemechs and more than twenty regiments of infantry and armor. ComStar’s Precentor-Martial has stated his inability to confirm the degree of aerospace forces present beyond an estimate that they are formidable in number, including at least one elite formation - the Flying Drakons.”
Call it three mech regiments along with 20+ supporting armor and infantry regiments, plus over 100 IS ASFs. In pure number terms, you're talking about the equivalent of three full RCTs. And this won't be the kind of open-field war where the Jaguars can take full advantage of their mobility and range - a lot of fighting at close quarters here, where booby traps, ambushes, and close-in fights will happen.
The Jaguars are going to get mauled. They will break their bid. They will still get mauled. And they will then resort to orbital bombardment to make up for it.
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The Jaguars are going to get mauled. They will break their bid. They will still get mauled. And they will then resort to orbital bombardment to make up for it.
Well, the Jags just had to orbomb SOMEONE during the invasion. Looks like the FRR lost that crapshoot.
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So that's... two full strength clusters, a cluster of just Elementals + ASFs, and nominal ASF coverage during the orbital phase vs:
"...two full regiments of the Kungsarme’s battlemechs, along with an additional frontline battalion, as many as four battalions of militia battlemechs and more than twenty regiments of infantry and armor. ComStar’s Precentor-Martial has stated his inability to confirm the degree of aerospace forces present beyond an estimate that they are formidable in number, including at least one elite formation - the Flying Drakons.”
Call it three mech regiments along with 20+ supporting armor and infantry regiments, plus over 100 IS ASFs. In pure number terms, you're talking about the equivalent of three full RCTs. And this won't be the kind of open-field war where the Jaguars can take full advantage of their mobility and range - a lot of fighting at close quarters here, where booby traps, ambushes, and close-in fights will happen.
The Jaguars are going to get mauled. They will break their bid. They will still get mauled. And they will then resort to orbital bombardment to make up for it.
If each cluster has a trinary of ASF, that´s 90 total, plus whatever extra coverage exists during the landing; that should be enough to overcome the defending ASF, though at least for a while the ground forces would be on their own. One trinary of elementals per cluster is 225, which will go a long way towards neutralizing the infantry, especially if they´re only engaged a regiment or two at a time.
But, yeah... that´s probably still 400-ish mechs (7 frontline and 4 militia battalions at 36-40 each) and 1200-ish conventional vehicles, assuming the conventional regiments are split half-and-half between infantry and armor. And that´s against anywhere from 90 to 120 Clan mechs - 3-4 mechs and 10-12 tanks per Clan mech. Yikes. Even if up to half of them are out of action for now due to that disease on the southern continent.
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If each cluster has a trinary of ASF, that´s 90 total, plus whatever extra coverage exists during the landing; that should be enough to overcome the defending ASF, though at least for a while the ground forces would be on their own. One trinary of elementals per cluster is 225, which will go a long way towards neutralizing the infantry, especially if they´re only engaged a regiment or two at a time.
But, yeah... that´s probably still 400-ish mechs (7 frontline and 4 militia battalions at 36-40 each) and 1200-ish conventional vehicles, assuming the conventional regiments are split half-and-half between infantry and armor. And that´s against anywhere from 90 to 120 Clan mechs - 3-4 mechs and 10-12 tanks per Clan mech. Yikes. Even if up to half of them are out of action for now due to that disease on the southern continent.
True. Still a massive disparity in infantry though. 225 Elementals vs 11 regiments of infantry. It means each Elemental Star will be facing off against more than a full Infantry Regiment - and if some of those regiments are mechanized infantry, you can add in APCs, light tanks like the Scorpion or Bulldong, and other designs too along with a metric ton of crew served weapons, SRM launchers, and all the explosives and traps they can set.
The Jags, true to form, got way too cocky and underbid by a near-fatal amount. Had they even just brought in four full strength clusters, I think they'd have enough to pretty much smash the FRR mechs and armor piecemeal and then grind through urban zones via firepower and sheer brutality. But right now they have less than a zero margin of error and will be forced to break their bid, possibly multiple times, just to pacify the area.
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and who wants to place bets on Tyra Miraborg doing her very impressive impersonation of a guided missile here as well
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If the Miraburg Miracle happens again ... with the Jaguars losing their ilKhan, Khan, AND Sa-Khan all in one swoop while also being seen as the weakest of the four invading clans ... they might fall VERY hard and far before the Inner Sphere even gets around to tearing into them. All the reserve clans will be clamoring to replace them or take over large portions of their invasion corridor as soon as a new ilKhan is elected. This should be quite interesting to watch.
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Noticed that Phelan is still a bondsman at this point ...
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True. Still a massive disparity in infantry though. 225 Elementals vs 11 regiments of infantry. It means each Elemental Star will be facing off against more than a full Infantry Regiment - and if some of those regiments are mechanized infantry, you can add in APCs, light tanks like the Scorpion or Bulldong, and other designs too along with a metric ton of crew served weapons, SRM launchers, and all the explosives and traps they can set.
The Jags, true to form, got way too cocky and underbid by a near-fatal amount. Had they even just brought in four full strength clusters, I think they'd have enough to pretty much smash the FRR mechs and armor piecemeal and then grind through urban zones via firepower and sheer brutality. But right now they have less than a zero margin of error and will be forced to break their bid, possibly multiple times, just to pacify the area.
Let´s say that one of the front line regiments, half the militia mech battalions and half the conventional regiments are out of action on the southern continent. That leaves four front line mech battalions, two militia mech battalions and at least ten conventional regiments ready to fight - lets say 6 regiments each of armor and infantry. Let´s say 10 infantry platoons per battalion, that´s 180 platoons for 6 regiments. A single elemental suit against a conventional infantry platoon is a fair even fight if the elemental suit has a flamer or machine gun.
I am making two assumptions (which are probably assumptions in favor of the Jags): Firstly that their ASF will eventually defeat the defenders, but will not play a role in the ground fighting at first. Secondly that the elementals and the conventional infantry would more or less neutralize each other for the most part.
That still leaves the Jags outnumbered by a factor of 2 to 2.5 in mechs; given than a third of the defenders are militia, that would be tough but doable under ideal conditions, which they won´t get - but they´ll also be outnumbered 6-8 to 1 in tanks, which even without defending mechs would be extremely difficult for them.
So, yeah, Lincoln Osis will suffer the large-scale fiasco to complement Sarah Weaver´s small-scale fiasco. Leo Showers will not be happy.
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Noticed that Phelan is still a bondsman at this point ...
I have the feeling he’s not going to be able to form Wolf In Exile
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Noticed that Phelan is still a bondsman at this point ...
Exactly as he was in canon.
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The current point in the storyline is a little before the point in canon that Phelan knocked out Vlad and Evantha for the sake of an old man who had been rendered homeless in the fighting for Reykjavík, being rewarded with a wristwatch from Ulric (sometimes it's the small things) and getting Ranna hot and bothered.
Alas for Phelan's lovelife, he won't be getting that chance to impress Ranna this time.
Regarding the Smoke Jaguar odds, it's worth remembering that they won't be fighting all the defenders at once. The Kungsarme have to defend targets all over the planet, whereas the Smoke Jaguars have the initiative in where they attack - not to mention their 'mechs generally being faster so they can usually engage under favorable terms and disengage if a particular engagement is going against them.
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Regarding the Smoke Jaguar odds, it's worth remembering that they won't be fighting all the defenders at once. The Kungsarme have to defend targets all over the planet, whereas the Smoke Jaguars have the initiative in where they attack - not to mention their 'mechs generally being faster so they can usually engage under favorable terms and disengage if a particular engagement is going against them.
Yeah that sounds about right. It is the same reasoning for how Clan Clusters were able to regularly roll over RCTs in the initial waves of the invasion - hit the defenders piecemeal and use your speed, range, gunnery and tech to individually overrun isolated battalions or even combat teams.
When IS forces are able to actually concentrate and force the Clan to come at them with defenses in depth or when the Clan has to face those actual Cluster vs RCT fights, they have been roughed up. Luthien is a prime example, where 13 mech regiments (granted, at least 10 of them were Elite-rated between the Dragoons, the Hounds, the Otomo/Dragon's Claws, and the Genyosha) plus a ton of armor and infantry were able to beat back a combined Smoke Jaguar/Nova Cat attack involving five full Galaxies/25 Clusters.
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Opalescent Reflections
Dealer’s Choice
Chapter 14
CSJS FireCrest, Last Frontier
Rasalhague Province, Free Rasalhague Republic
11 July 3050
Sarah Weaver was wearing her full regalia as a Khan of Clan Smoke Jaguar when she joined Edmund Hoyt in the FireCrest’s communication suite. “This is not really the time for an emergency,” she warned the Loremaster. “Khan Hawker will be aboard any moment and both of us will be needed.”
“I have instructed he is to be invited to inspect Beta Galaxy’s warriors,” Hoyt told her. “The preening fool will think he is being honored, not distracted.”
That was probably an accurate assessment of the Diamond Shark’s senior Khan, Sarah thought. And he wasn’t even the worst of the Grand Council. At least he could fight - as he had proven on Vinton. The Nova Cats’ Khans were both positively decrepit and the Fire Mandrills hadn’t elected a Khan worthy of the title in her own lifetime.
“Aff, but I want the fool off the ship as soon as possible,” she pointed out. “What is this about?”
“Rasalhague,” the Loremaster told her directly.
Sarah snorted. “That is Lincoln Osis’ problem. He bid for the world and has ignored all advice.” She had recommended keeping his forces concentrated and striking at each continent in turn - it would be slower, but it would also moderate the losses that Ulric Kerensky was no doubt wishing upon them.
Hoyt shook his head. “He may be Khan, but he is not above the commands of the Clan Council. One of the bloodnamed warriors deployed with Delta Galaxy sent me a… concerning message. I think it was not the only one sent, merely the only one to reach me.”
“A communications problem?” she asked and then realized what he was implying. “Or something has gone wrong and he is trying to hide it?”
“I intend to find out. Between the two of us we can command enough votes to threaten his position. What he would not necessarily tell either of us alone…”
“He may be forced to if it is from both of us.” It was no secret Hoyt was looking for an elevation from Loremaster to Khan in the future. If he would have settled for saKhan then Sarah might have been willing to back that, but both wanted the senior seat for themselves. On this though… “Very well.”
Hoyt snapped his fingers at one of the technicians waiting and, through a miracle of technology that was so everyday that Sarah rarely thought about it, the FireCrest’s hyperpulse generator opened a connection to a world light years away. A chain of such contacts reached Rasalhague’s orbit and then a second ran back. Within moments, they were looking at the communications center of the destroyer Saber Cat.
“Khan Weaver, Loremaster Hoyt.” The officer on that ship saluted.
“Put us in contact with Khan Osis,” Sarah ordered.
“Ah, my Khan, he is…”
“Unless he is in battle personally, he has no valid reason to refuse communications,” Hoyt declared firmly. “Now contact him.”
Since there was no one aboard the Saber Cat who had the rank to argue with the two of them, someone made it happen and while Lincoln Osis was stubborn, he grasped almost immediately that leaving the officer trapped between himself and his own two most senior lieutenants wasn’t going to do anything but waste all of their time. And waste was not something the Clans approved of.
“This had better be important,” he began. The Khan was wearing his Elemental armor, opened up to reveal his head and his massive shoulders. “I am handling active operations.”
“Yes, operations that have half of the Nineteenth Striker Cluster on the casualty list,” Hoyt shot back. “At this rate you will have lost half of Delta Galaxy within a week.”
Osis’ head jerked. For a moment Sarah thought that he’d demand to know how they knew that. Not that she had. Half an entire Cluster lost? That was unprecedented for the invasion so far.
“You are correct. Thalia Showers did well to extract her force without losing warriors,” the Khan confirmed instead. “I am taking counter-measures.”
“You said she has not lost warriors, how can she take fifty-percent in casualties without a single fatality?” asked Sarah. She had seen Osis’ strategy and the Nineteenth were assigned to the southern continent (the name of which she didn’t recall). Her recommendation that Osis focus on one continent or the other first had been given the regard that she had expected - none.
Osis scowled. “The answer is simple: a biological weapon!”
Sarah froze in horror. “They would not dare!” Weapons of mass destruction were supposed to have fallen entirely out of use, according to the Dragoons. It was the one sign of civilized behavior that she was willing to credit the Scavenger Lords with.
“Star Colonel Showers has a third of her Cluster entirely unable to fight and a quarter of the remains are only able to carry out limited operations,” her superior reported with grim certainty. “They savaged the conventional regiments they faced so the Rasalhaguers must have concluded that they had no other means of fighting back and unleashed this tool of horror. There is no certainty that the rest of the cluster will not fall prey to this. Nor can we be assured that those afflicted will survive - the weapon may not have run its course.”
“Have the scientists identified the weapon?” asked Hoyt.
“A work in progress,” Osis answered dismissively. “For now the Nineteenth is quarantined outside their dropships - we cannot allow them back aboard until we know this threat is contained.”
“That destroys the southern half of your operations,” pointed out Sarah. “You continue the trial of possession, quineg?”
“Aff. Not with my existing forces, but I will not allow them to win with such dishonorable tools!”
“What is your plan?”
Osis snarled at her. “Deal with your own duties, saKhan. Should you not be bidding for Polcenigo? Or have you failed there?”
“Bidding has not yet begun. Rest assured, I will win that bid - and do so without dipping to such limited force levels,” she shot back.
“Do not concern yourself, Khan Osis. Without Polcenigo, the Sharks cannot realistically contest our side of the Rasalhague Rift,” Hoyt assured the distant Elemental.
“I will believe that once I have seen it,” he snapped back. “Rasalhague is mine to deal with and I do not require your interference. I lead the Smoke Jaguars, not you.”
“You lead us as long as the Clan Council supports you,” retorted Hoyt sharply. “Both of us have questions. Do you want me to ask Kincaid Furey and Brandon Howell if they are content to ignore this matter as well?”
Sarah wanted to spit at the idea of bringing those two in - they were ambitious, but Furey was as much of a fool as Ian Hawker and Brandon Howell was soft in the head. But they did have a following on the Council and together the four of them could force a vote to replace Lincoln Osis at odds that would give him little chance of winning a Trial of Refusal. “You say you have it under control, Khan Osis. All I ask is what measures you have in mind.”
“I will break my bid,” the towering Khan ground out. “Does that satisfy you? Let the Wolves whine, I will break Rasalhague as well.”
For a moment, she considered the likely costs. Ulric Kerensky would demand concessions in exchange for permitting this, and there would be humiliation for the Clan… but that was Osis’ problem. “I recommend slowing your pace until the Scientist Caste have made their assessment,” she counseled. “I broke my own bid on Sus-”
Osis slammed his fist down on something outside the reach of the camera. There was an audible crash. “Your failure to deal with ComStar is for you to bear, Weaver,” he snapped. “I have made my decision. Do not question me again!”
The signal went dead and the image was replaced a moment later by the Saber Cat’s comm officer. “I have lost contact with Khan Osis,” he reported. “Should I re-establish -”
“Neg,” Sarah cut him short. “The Khan has taken full responsibility. We will trust that he knows what he is doing.”
Hoyt gave her a sidelong look and then shrugged. “That will suffice,” he told the other officer and the HPG circuit was cut off. “Are you sure, Khan Weaver?” the loremaster asked.
“Khan Osis is sure,” she told him, removing her jaguar-helmet and rubbing the scar that ran across the shaven side of her head. It tended to itch under the helmet. “We cannot force him to be cautious when we are light years from him, Edmund. If he fails then we can bring this to the Clan Council, but until he does we must assume that he has the ilKhan’s favor and that will make it hard to rein him in.”
Osis is right in a way, she thought. I shall focus on my own bidding. A win here, and securing worlds like Courcheval and Sovernene to secure our flank against the Diamond Sharks will burnish my name. The Wolves, unhampered by needing to throw a full Galaxy or more at Rasalhague, are aiming for ten worlds in this wave - which will place them closer to Terra than any other Clan.
If Leo Showers wants us to spring ahead once more, then let him see that his first choice to lead the Clan is a fool who has bled us out for his own pride. Then you will have to back a new Khan, and neither Howell, Hoyt nor Furey will have my record of victories.
Reykjavik, Rasalhague
Rasalhague Province, Free Rasalhague Republic
11 July 3050
“Valkyrie squadron!” The air traffic controller’s voice exploded across the channel, the usual calm absent. “Turn west and head for low orbit!”
Tyra banked her Shilone almost without thought, checking her radar for any sign of more inbound fighters. It had been two days since the Smoke Jaguars had landed. The news had been mixed but that was better than it had been on other worlds.
Yes, the Smoke Jaguars were pushing closer and closer to Reykjavik, but so far the Flying Drakons had brought down twenty of the enemy’s fighters, if at a cost of a quarter of their number.
Yes, the defenders of Ystad had taken terrible losses, but the Smoke Jaguars had broken off from their attack on Tyr and were falling back to their dropships.
Yes, the invader’s warships were maintaining a loose blockade in the high orbits that would make reinforcements almost impossible, but the Free Worlds League had agreed to ship weapons and even entire battlemechs to other worlds in the Jaguar’s path.
All they had to do was hold on.
Hold on and wait for the Clans to bleed out, Haakon Magnusson pleaded. We withstood the Combine for generations. We drove off the ronin and the mercenaries of the Kelswas.
“What are we dealing with, flight control?” Annika asked as her own Shilone clung to the wing of Tyra’s fighter as if it was glued there. The four Sparrowhawks that made up the rest of Valkyrie squadron fanned out before the two flying wing designs, as if they were scouts. “Another raid.”
“Negative, Valkyrie Two. You are on escort duty. Highest priority.”
Tyra frowned. What was going on? Was it an evacuation flight? The warships would make that dangerous… unless there was some reason to think that the Clans’ honor code would restrain them.
From the briefings they’d been sent, that might be possible. But it might not. It was a risk.
“Understood, control,” she replied. “Who are we looking to link up with?”
“Everyone,” the man replied. “Every fighter we have - a full court press.”
“All the Drakons?” The Flying Drakons had fielded a hundred and eight aerospace fighters a few days ago. They still had almost eighty.
“The Drakons, the planetary guard. Everything that can fly.”
Tyra glanced out at Annika, seeing the other pilot through her canopy. Her friend was looking back at her, barely visible.
“Valkyrie One.” Major Bernadette cut across the channel. “We don’t have time for a full briefing. Just know that your one and only concern is to see Baldr squadron through. At any cost whatsoever.”
“Yes sir,” she answered. Any cost. What the hell?
The radar highlighted more fighters taking off from runways below as Tyra tilted the Shilone’s nose upwards and kicked the fusion turbine into overthrust. Her fuel gauge blinked, telling her she was burning away the ability to keep the turbine fed faster and faster. She felt a moment of envy for the Sparrowhawk interceptors, which had enough of a power to weight ratio to reach orbit without needing to do what she had to.
The four light fighters reared up ahead of Tyra and Annika. “Kapten, there’s something inbound!”
“Dropships?” Tyra asked. Was that the problem? An attempt at a direct landing on Reykjavik? The Smoke Jaguars might be daring enough for that, but they had to know that only a massive force could punch past the Flying Drakons.
“Maybe. There’s a lot of fighters and they’re covering… Blake’s Blood!”
“What?” Tyra demanded. And then the Sparrowhawk’s tactical computer synced enough to feed it’s sensor data back to the Shilone. For a moment, she didn’t know what she was seeing. Two dropships, yes. Those she recognised even if she’s not come across a Titan-class dropship before. They were legendary though - the SLDF’s preferred fighter carrier. The pair of them could have carried most of what remained of the Flying Drakons but they were pretty clearly the source of the swarm of sixty aerospace fighters descending ahead of the dropships.
There was another icon though, one that Tyra didn’t recognise from her training.
No one had trained for this in centuries.
“It’s one of their warships,” she gasped.
“That is huge!” Annika exclaimed.
“Control, this is Valkyrie-One.” She couldn’t help but to check her six, praying that the rest of the Flying Drakons would catch soon. “We’re picking up sixty - six-zero - enemy fighters. Two dropships. And what my warbook says is an Essex-class destroyer.” Additional data was displaying against that. “It’s decelerating - coming at us tail first. Looks like it’s heading for a geostationary orbit…”
“Right above Reykjavik,” Flight Control confirmed bleakly. “Our best guess is that it’s coming in for bombardment. We’re…”
Static roared across the channel, cutting Tyra off from the ground.
When it faded, another voice spoke. “People of Rasalhague. I am the Khan of Clan Smoke Jaguar. I have offered honorable battle for the fate of your world. Your leaders,” a deep, rasping voice declared. “Have offered atrocity. They have employed biological warfare against my warriors. A coward’s weapon.”
Tyra mouthed a denial. That was insane, no one would do that. Everyone knew that the use of a WMD invited the same… and this was their capital, their home.
And then she realized that this was a justification.
“I demand the immediate surrender of your world, of all the leaders responsible for this warcrime… and the scientists who prepared this,” the man continued. “You have thirty minutes. At that point, one of our warships will be orbiting directly above your capital city. If your leaders have not accepted the responsibility for their crimes, their lives will be taken. Along with many others. I am told that this is the oldest law of war: atrocity provokes atrocity. I am feeling very provoked. You leaders believe I lack the spine to stand up to them. They are very wrong.”
The voice went silent. For a moment there was no voice at all on the radio.
“Tyra,” Annika said quietly, fearfully. “The prince wouldn’t have ordered this…”
“No. Nor would General Mansdottir,” she confirmed. “That wasn’t an ultimatum… that was a justification. We cannot provide the people who ordered whatever he’s talking about, because no one did. My father told me about this sort of thing - the way Kuritas would justify their oppression of our people. It was always our fault that they were brutalizing us. Never theirs.”
Her friend inhaled slowly. “Can we stop it?”
“We’d better.” A thought struck Tyra. “Baldr… god of the sun.”
“Right. I guess… we’re real Valkyries today. Choosers of the Slain.”
“Pull back your throttle,” Tyra ordered quietly. “We need the rest of the regiment with us.”
As the other squadrons caught up, heavier strike aircraft burning fuel wildly to keep up with lighter aircraft, Tyra tried to pick out the nature of the opposition. The lighter fighters matched up to some of the warbooks provided by the Wolf Dragoons. Sulla medium fighters, Vandal interceptors. Some of the heavy fighters were another class, something her own sensors thought might be an old SLDF Hammerhead.
That mistake had brought down almost a full squadron of the Flying Drakons during the first day of the invasion. As much as Tyra understood how many of her fellow pilots blamed the Dragoons for not warning them of the Smoke Jaguars’ heavy aerospace design, the protests were as irrational as the hatred her father and his sycophants had directed at the Kell Hounds when they were delayed at Gunzberg back… back before. The simple fact was that the Dragoons had left the Clans almost fifty years ago. It wasn’t unreasonable for them to be unaware of changes over that time.
Baldr Squadron was among the last to form up, four Chippewas and a pair of Slayers. They were practically waddling with an external load that must make them obvious. If we had more time, it would have been better to use other fighters, Tyra thought. Something faster.
But there was no more time. More than half the time they had before the Smoke Jaguar’s deadline was gone.
“All Drakons,” Major Bernadette told them. “None of you are fools. All of you must see what is ahead of us. We are all that stands between Reykjavik and orbital bombardment. We must not fail.”
“They can’t be serious,” a young voice asked. “No one’s done that in almost two hundred years.”
“No one has had warships in almost two hundred years,” Annika told the other pilot.
In 2853, the last Lyran capital ship had misjumped after destroying the handful of smaller warships that House Kurita had committed to capture Hesperus. On that day, the Inner Sphere had lost their last ability to contest a threat like this with commensurate force. So far as Tyra knew, no one had built a new warship since then. They were too expensive and required too much and too fragile an infrastructure to support them.
“Enough chatter,” the major told her. “We have numbers… barely. I’m marking targets - one of their aerolances for one of our own. That should leave us enough of an opening to get our strike force and escorts through.”
Tyra saw one of the inbound pairs of Clan fighters light up, marking the targets for her and Annika. They’d been given a couple of the heavy fighters - codenamed Octaves, for their 8-like outline - which was a compliment as such things go. Major Bernadette thought that they could handle the fighters despite the difference in weight and firepower.
Both sides were slowing - neither wanted to overfly the other. It would do the Drakons no good to have Baldr zoom past the warship too fast to get a lock for their payloads. And the Smoke Jaguars would not wish to let the Drakons get around and gain the advantage of being further from the gravity well. From their point of view, it wouldn’t matter if the missiles were used before or after Reykjavik burned.
That only mattered to the people of Rasalhague. Not to Clan Smoke Jaguar, she presumed.
The gap between them shrank. “We’ll take the lead,” she ordered Annika. They’d try to take the first Octave out fast together, she’d heard that the Clans disliked working as a team but she wasn’t sure how accurate it was. The Smoke Jaguars seemed to work as flight pairs in the air and their elementals operated in squads. Perhaps it was just a mechwarrior thing.
The formations broke up, the enemy apparently welcoming the opportunity to engage in two on two duels.
Tyra’s crosshairs glowed as the enemy fighters closed into range. She fired her missiles the same instant Annika did, two salvos of missiles converging on the first Octave.
Her Shilone bucked wildly, she saw only in aftermath the particle beam that had flayed along the fighter’s broad wing. There was a shriek from Annika and Tyra jerked her head to one side, glimpsing her friend’s fighter shedding a trail of metal. One wing - no small part of the Shilone’s entire mass - had been torn to shreds. “Annika -” she shouted, unable to break out of the high-g turn she needed to come around on their target.
“I’m fine! Finish him!”
She had to trust her wingman. Tyra’s large laser scored a hit on the Octave but then it twisted away before she could fire her missiles again. And the medium lasers weren’t in reach yet.
The other Octave, spun and threatened to fall in on Tyra’s tail, but a shower of missiles from Annika forced the Smoke Jaguar to focus on her.
Tyra’s target tried to climb in and pincer Annika, doing to them what they had planned to do to it. But re-engaging was it’s mistake, and Tyra burned a massive chunk of her onboard fuel, vision shrinking under the g-forces as her Shilone came about and rested behind the Smoke Jaguar.
A laser spat back at her from tailguns, shaving away her armor, but it was nothing in comparison to the fury of Tyra’s arsenal. She fired everything, holding the triggers down so each weapons fired again as quickly as it would cycle, headless of the struggle of her machine to dissipate the heat being generated.
The Octave’s frantic efforts to get her off his tail ended in fire. One of her shots burned through the onboard fuel stores and tons of hydrogen stored under high pressure was suddenly released to mix with the oxygen in the life support system. The explosion tore the aerospace fighter apart. Tyra yanked on her yoke, breaking away from the explosion lest she take further damage from fragments or ram directly into the wreckage.
Her eyes scanned the battlespace for Annika and found her in a twisted reflection of the duel Tyra had just won. Her best friend and wingwoman wasn’t maneuvering well, and the other Octave was closing in fast. It had her tail but it was waiting, almost sadistically, to close in further before it fired.
“I’m on my way!” Tyra called, using her main thrusters to bleed off the momentum that was carrying her away from the pair.
“It’s too late.” Annika’s voice was calm. “Good luck.”
And then she spun the battered Shilone like a top, bringing her frontal weapons to bear in and making herself a predictable target in exchange for getting off one more salvo.
The Octave seemed to brush aside the Drakon’s lasers and missiles before opening up with its own payload. Not one, not two, but three trails of autocannon fire traced their way through orbital space and connected with the Shilone.
Tyra was just close enough to say that one of those lines of fire intersected the cockpit. Not that it mattered. Valkyrie-Two’s existence ended in fire - LRM stores and hydrogen tanks disintegrating all that was left of the fighter in two explosions so close together that Tyra couldn’t tell which went up first.
“No,” she whispered. “****** you, no.”
Under her hands, the Shilone’s controls responded superbly, flinging her after Annika’s killer. It was the right move, to engage the fighter that had been freed to find another target. But that wasn’t why Tyra Miraborg chased them.
She had known since she was young of her father’s wrath. Even though he never directed it at her.
Now she knew it lived in her own heart as well.
First Phelan. Now Annika. Who would the Clans take next?
The pair streaked through the raging dogfight, an aerial melee on a scale she’d never seen before. The Flying Drakons were rarely all in the sky at one time. Fighters died in fiery stars or spun wildly towards the atmosphere, desperately trying to reach an angle of approach that would survive the inferno of re-entry.
Ahead she saw Baldr squadron and their escorts breaking through, but Clan fighters were giving chase, each marking one of her comrades killed to open the way for them… just as each Drakon trying to claw at the back of those Clanners had bought their way with one of the Smoke Jaguar’s fighters.
The Sullas were faster than most of the Drakons’ fighters, but the Octave’s performance wasn’t far different from that of Tyra’s smaller Shilone. It couldn’t get away from her… but she was only catching up slowly, each twist and turn around the debris and other dueling fighters just a hair tighter than the Clan warrior was managing.
The close escort broke off from the six fighters of Baldr squadron to engage the Sullas, forcing them to break off. But that opened the way for the Octave.
Tyra opened up with her missiles, explosive warheads ripping into the rear of the fighter, but they weren’t enough alone. Not in the time that she had.
She needed her lasers. And the range wasn’t closing fast enough.
They flashed through Baldr squadron one after the other, her large laser burning deep into the interior of the enemy fighter just as it fired its autocannon. She had a glimpse of a Chippewa torn in half by its guns and then the Smoke Jaguar spun away wildly, the fusion thruster cutting in and out, melting its own verniers.
Tyra was going too fast. She cut her thrust, turning the Shilone to get her nose pointed back towards the fight, something that gave her a perfect view of the two Titan dropships opening up with their own arsenals.
The firepower that carriers could bring to bear was shattering. One after the other, Baldr squadron died. In front of her.
While she could do nothing.
There were three, there were two, there were… none…
And then two missile thrusters kicked to life. Fired in the last moments of the fighters that carried them.
One of the missiles detonated in front of a Titan. Perhaps it had lost its lock… or perhaps the pilot had panicked and fired at its executioner not at the real target.
The Shilone’s canopy darked automatically, shielding Tyra from the blinding light. Then it cleared in time to see the wreck of the Titan beginning a tumble, the entire forward half blasted open as the nuclear warhead exploded within its guts. Beyond this, she could see the second missile streaking past the other Titan, towards the oncoming mass of the warship, the great thrusters at the rear of the destroyer angling down as it stabilized itself against the planet’s gravity.
Her cockpit darkened again.
“Yes!” Tyra screamed in joy. They’d done it! Annika hadn’t died for nothing.
The armor glass cleared… and her exultation died.
Out of the dying light of the nuclear explosion, the warship came on, like an unstoppable juggernaut. A deep scar, breached and burning compartments, had replaced the snarling Jaguar emblem upon its flank. But it was clearly still under control and still intent on lashing back.
“No! No!” she gasped in despair.
“Valkyrie-One,” Bernadette called. “What happened.”
“We failed. We… failed…”
The aft turrets of the destroyer opened up. Ton after ton of ordnance crashed down into the atmosphere.
Tyra could not see the details, but ancient manuals let her envisage it. Let her imagine the shells breaking apart after re-entry, releasing not explosives or nuclear warheads. No, they would just release rods of tungsten.
Rods that were driving down toward Reykjavik faster than any missile. In the final irony, the gravity of Rasalhague itself would provide the final boost to the doom of the world’s capital.
Tyra could not see the shells, nor the rods. But she could see the flares of light beneath her… as Reykjavik burned.
“Flying Drakons,” a familiar voice ordered, strangled with pain and forcing meaning past it. “This is Christian Mansdottir. Break off and make for Asgard City. We… we need you to cover an evacuation.”
Evacuation? Tyra thought. We can’t… wait, no. One of the jump points is unguarded now.
“This battle is lost,” the general said bleakly. And then his voice rose. “But the war is not. We will avenge Reykjavik. This I promise. But not today.”
-
Hilton Head, North America
Terra, Sol System
13 July 3050
The sun streaming through the windows of the First Circuit’s chamber did nothing to lift Wei’s mood. It painted the tiles orange, like the flames of war that had erased an entire city.
“Primus,” an adept informed her. “We are ready.”
Wei nodded. “Thank you.” She didn’t go to her podium, instead stepping into the exact center of the room, upon the ComStar sigil upon the floor.
“Three, two,” the adept said, chopping down to mark each number. The young woman dropped her arm once more in a silent one…
And then holograms sprang to life around the chamber. Close to forty men and women around Wei, angry in most cases. Some sitting, others already on their feet. They were crammed together in a compartment much smaller than the chamber she was within. She knew that quite a number of them were not even in the room that she saw, them too being projected via HPG to attend as holograms.
“Children of Kerensky,” she said slowly, deliberately. Ominously, she hoped. “I am the Primus of ComStar.”
“I understand you have a grievance,” the enthroned ilKhan declared. “You may…”
Wei cut him off. “Grievance is your way, Leo Showers. And my Order has respected your ways… until now. I am here in judgment.”
“You do not judge us,” hissed a blonde woman, clad all in red. Not one of the invading Khans, Wei thought.
“Today, the entire Inner Sphere judges you,” she answered. “From the highest Successor Lord to the smallest child, you are being measured. For ten generations we have wondered if Kerensky’s heirs would return. Wondered if you might be the saviors that some have prayed for, or the doom others have feared. And now we know. Kerensky’s lost children have returned to the Inner Sphere… and you are no different than those your ancestors left behind.”
She would probably have got less of a reaction if she’d walked up and slapped the ilKhan.
“How dare - !” one of the Wolf Khans began hotly.
“SILENCE!” Wei rarely raised her voice. It always seemed to surprise people when she did. It served the same today. “ComStar has watched countless atrocities since Blake and Kerensky parted ways. We have watched the Succession Wars unfold while you and yours stood aside in the depths of space. And we are the voice of the voiceless. You will heed us.”
The other, the elder, Khan of Clan Wolf pulled his colleague back into his chair. “Clan Wolf will hear ComStar’s words,” Ulric Kerensky assured her, glancing around the room. “But you are not one of us and you do not command us.”
“I do not,” she agreed. “Nor I do seek to. But the Clans do not command ComStar. We are both legacies of the Star League - sibkin, you might call us, separated long ago. And when we met again the question was asked: would we reunite? Was this the time for us to find common cause in building something new, learning from each other? Or were the Clans - little understood - simply more warlords in the stamp of Charles Marik, Claudius the Cruel, Jinjiro Kurita…” Her voice dropped, “Or worse, were there those among the Clans who might be more akin to the Usurper?”
“And now we know,” she told them quietly. “You are no better and no worse than those Jerome Blake and Conrad Toyama watched destroy the Star League in the first Succession Wars. Welcome to the human race.”
Edmund Hoyt stood from where the loremaster had been watching. “Primus, you did not request this meeting to insult us.”
“I had more than one reason for this,” she told him levelly. “One of them was to insult you. Because for those of you stung by my words, know that it is because you admit to yourselves that my words are true. That you can be better, that you could be better… and that you have failed to uphold a higher standard. We cannot change what has happened, but we can strive not to repeat our mistakes.”
“Mistakes have been made,” the loremaster said, looking over towards his own glowering Khan. Lincoln Osis, perhaps chastened or perhaps simply knowing how weak his position was, remained silence.
“Apparently those mistakes include basic literacy.” Wei observed. “I have read the information we provided on Rasalhague to both Clan Wolf and Clan Smoke Jaguar. Normal travel advisory information, a courtesy. Precentor-Martial Focht,” (who was safely away from this debacle, currently on his way to the surface of Rasalhague to coordinate relief efforts), “Assures me that it was passed on in full. We warned you that the jungles of Ystad gave rise to seasonal fevers and this was the worst time of year for them.”
“I can confirm,” Ulric Kerensky agreed, “That we received that warning.”
“As did we,” agreed the junior Smoke Jaguar Khan. “I confess, I did not read them myself until it was too late - I had no part in the bidding for Rasalhague. But if I could read them then Lincoln Osis could have.”
“And yet he accused the Free Rasalhague Republic of war crimes… and committed one ten thousand times worse,” Wei agreed. “Which is either hypocrisy of the highest order, or negligence… also of the highest order.” She shook her head. “How this council or Clan Smoke Jaguar’s own Council deals with Lincoln Osis as an individual is for them to decide. But as the Khan of Clan Smoke Jaguar, his actions must be borne by his Clan.”
“And what do you want?” demanded Leo Showers.
“What I would like is the city of Reykjavik restored from the ashes. The lives of near a million inhabitants raised from the dead, including the lives of almost the entire governing body of the Free Rasalhague and every one of the ComStar staff at the HPG station there, not least Precentor Gwyn Thorne of the First Circuit. What I want, ilKhan has little to do with what I will get,” she said, letting the savage snap of her words hang in the air. “I am telling you now that Clan Smoke Jaguar is under Interdict. From this day until they have made restitution to ComStar and to those they have murdered, ComStar enclaves are closed to them. Their communications will not be transmitted. There will be no further advisories. There will be no trade, support or aid in any way from ComStar until the Clan proves that they accept the responsibility for what was done to Reykjavik.”
“Then we will take those HPGs from you!” Osis snarled, coming to his feet.
Wei faced him with the serene confidence of being four hundred light years away from his fists. “Try.”
“Neg,” Ulric Kerensky objected. “The Primus’ words are not unjust. She - and all the people of Rasalhague - have the right to seek surkai from Clan Smoke Jaguar. The ilKhan himself has said many times that we have come to the Inner Sphere to save its people from the Successor Lords. To show them a better way, the way of the Clans. What Lincoln Osis ordered was a betrayal of that purpose. He has humiliated us, painting us as no different from those the Primus named. We claim to be better than those who came before, now we must live up to that.”
Showers frowned. “What you say is true, but the Smoke Jaguars’ occupation zone is theirs to rule. That is the way.”
“Neg, my ilKhan,” Kerensky said silkily. “She is ‘the Wei’. That is her name.”
There was a snort of laughter.
The Wolf Khan rose to his feet and looked around. “How we discipline Osis… and how his Clan chooses to, these are matters to decide and debate. But I move that ComStar and its enclaves be placed under the same protections as our Free Guilds - answerable to no one Clan. Only the Grand Council and the ilKhan may decide matters pertaining to them. And no Clan may lay claim to their assets.”
“I concur,” the dark-skinned Barbara Sennet spoke up from where she sat next to a tight-mouthed Ian Hawker. “ComStar was once part of the Star League, like us. If they are not trothkin now, they have bargained honorably with us. It is not ComStar who we came here to dethrone.”
Leo Showers gripped the arms of his throne. “Vote,” he said tersely. “Those who affirm Khan Kerensky’s motion, vote aff. Those opposed, vote nay.”
Each Khan tapped an electronic device and columns tabulating the results were visible to Wei. Ulric’s motion had vast support - thirty-one Khans had voted in favor of it.
Leo Showers nodded in affirmation, acting as if he was satisfied. Only his eyes betrayed frustration. “Does anyone wish to Refuse?” He was pointedly staring at Lincoln Osis. “The odds would be ten to one.” There was a long silence and then he shook his head, seeming almost disappointed. “Very well, Primus. Your interdict is… noted. Once we have discussed what measures are to be taken, I will inform your Precentor-Martial.”
She inclined her head. “And then we will consider if that is suitable… surkai. Or if they remain unrepentant.”
The ilKhan rose from his throne and stalked towards her, looming over Wei. “One day,” he said quietly, looking down at her. “I will stand in that chamber. Will you still be so proud then?”
“That would depend,” she replied evenly. “On whether you are there as a conqueror, or as a bondsman.” And then Wei tapped a control hidden in her voluminous sleeve and cut the communication, banishing the Khans of the Clans from the First Circuit chamber and from Hilton Head.
Looking around, Wei saw the adepts manning the equipment were all staring at her. She dipped her head towards them. “Thank you.”
“No, Primus,” one adept said, standing up from behind the console where he’d been monitoring the signal. He clapped his hands together. “Thank you.”
The others began to clap and Wei’s eyes stung as she blinked back tears. Did they not realize that with - that piece of hypocritical drama in front of the Clans - she was leading them into what might be an abyss?
A/N: The 'Octave' is the Sabutai, which was developed after the Wolf Dragoons last had contact with the Clans, thus Jaime Wolf couldn't tell the FRR about it.
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.. wow, what a climax to end the first book with. Well done Drakensis! :clap: :clap: :clap:
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.. wow, what a climax to end the first book with. Well done Drakensis! :clap: :clap: :clap:
Agreed. That was nicely done.
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Superb writing! Love it.
A/N: The 'Octave' is the Sabutai, which was developed after the Wolf Dragoons last had contact with the Clans, thus Jaime Wolf couldn't tell the FRR about it.
I actually guessed as much once I read the line on the triple autocannon streams-only one Clan Omnifighter mounts three big boomers and of course, it would be the Jags who are crazy enough to put two UAC-20s and a LB-20X on a single airframe in the Sabutai-A.
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Well Phelan's girl Tyra did not Buy-the-Farm this time nor take out the il-Khan. So maybe he will still have a chance with her.
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That was a very nice story update! Glad to show how Comstar is actually trying to be Neutral. I especially enjoyed the part on the play on the Primus' name. Also the end of how the comstar personnel showed their support to the Primus.
I wonder if the broadcast was shown Comstar wide throughout known space or was it rebroadcast?
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She is the Wei indeed! ;D
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But is she the right way or the Rong Wei?
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Very well done.
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Well Phelan's girl Tyra did not Buy-the-Farm this time nor take out the il-Khan. So maybe he will still have a chance with her.
That happened later in the original time line.
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Lincoln Osis murdering entire city because ''he is there to lead, not to read'' is having considerable ramification within clan internal politics. Weaver and Hoyt are sharpening knives to replace Osis, Showers lost a lot of prestige amongst the clans and is also letting his rage guide his words and actions. Hawker, having hitched his wagon to Showers and Jags, is also on thin ice amongst his clan with Barbara Sennet probably having the most say within the clan now.
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Lincoln Osis murdering entire city because ''he is there to lead, not to read'' is having considerable ramification within clan internal politics. Weaver and Hoyt are sharpening knives to replace Osis, Showers lost a lot of prestige amongst the clans and is also letting his rage guide his words and actions. Hawker, having hitched his wagon to Showers and Jags, is also on thin ice amongst his clan with Barbara Sennet probably having the most say within the clan now.
If Weaver and Hoyt are smart, they´ll agree to fight a - non-fatal - circle of equals over which of them gets to be senior Khan, then unite to unseat Osis in favor of that person.
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With the Clans as a whole actually showing more intelligence than in canon, I'm going to second the removal of Osis, though probably not by non-lethal means. He Humiliated his Clan, and committed an atrocity, but it's the whole "going apeshit because you didn't read the intel brief" that's going to do it. He blew up a city full of resources, because he didn't bother to check the conditions, or read the materials in front of him, and it costs the Clan Casualties that he then tried to blame on someone else and failed.
that's like hanging a big red "I am Incompetent and unworthy to lead" sign over your head-because he didn't check the conditions, warriors were lost on the ground in the southern continent to mother nature, he then blamed natural conditions on civilians and lit up a city. This isn't Londerholm, this wasn't a chain of decisions that could be passed off as ruthless-but-rational, even among the Jags.
He screwed the pooch, in all the holes, and got caught in a lie that issued from his mouth because he didn't do the basic job he was actually there to do (Lead and make decisions that lead to victory and gain for hte Clan).
If nothing else, I'd see his immediate Subordinates from the cluster sent to the southern continent fragging him over his refusal to do his job properly, never mind the saKhans. He tried to get away with some Bandit-caste shit right there.
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Another way of looking at the loss of units and resources. His overreaction to the sickness of the Southern attack arm could be excused if he had won. But the Khan of another Clan knew that what he was doing was an overreaction to the knowledge he did not heed from the provided information. This overreaction cost the SJ Clan a Destroyer, probably close to a hundred aerospace fighters, and the destroyed people, resources, and city on the Planet.
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Another way of looking at the loss of units and resources. His overreaction to the sickness of the Southern attack arm could be excused if he had won. But the Khan of another Clan knew that what he was doing was an overreaction to the knowledge he did not heed from the provided information. This overreaction cost the SJ Clan a Destroyer, probably close to a hundred aerospace fighters, and the destroyed people, resources, and city on the Planet.
The destroyer was only damaged. They lost a carrier dropship. Plus, of course, their reputation and whatever respect the other clans still had for them.
That vote passed 31 to 3. I´m fairly sure Sarah Weaver voted yes, so who else besides Lincoln Osis voted no? Ian Hawker, maybe?
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Exactly. Osis messed up massively, and embarrassed the Clans. The knives are out, and I doubt he has the support to stay as Khan.
Better than beheaded by the Archon Prince.
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Opalescent Reflections
Dealer’s Choice
Chapter 15
CWS Dire Wolf, Unzmarkt
Clan Wolf Occupation Zone
13 July 3050
Ulric Kerensky watched the hologram of the Primus of ComStar wink out. Phelan had not known much about the woman, but Focht spoke of her with respect that was more than that of merely a loyal soldier. Given the verbal slapping she had just delivered to the Grand Council, the Khan of the Wolves admitted that he had underestimated her.
From the look on the ilKhan’s face, he had made the same mistake. Well, if Leo Showers had been a fool he would not be a worthy foe.
Striking while the metal was hot, Ulric remained standing. “Khan Osis, there are many things that may be said of your conduct on Rasalhague. Some are matters for this Council, some for your own Clan Council. But there is one thing that is between you and I. You asked my consent to break your bid, quineg?”
The room fell silent. The use of orbital bombardment was detestable, and the consequences would be profound, but it was technically within the authority of a commander to use it. Breaking your bid without consent though? That was a matter of Clan law.
“Neg,” Lincoln Osis admitted.
There was a long sigh from the Khans. That word alone ended Osis as a political player on the Grand Council. Ulric could ask for his execution now and probably get a favorable vote - although there might be a dangerous Trial of Refusal. However, a dead and disgraced commander would allow Clan Smoke Jaguar to escape much of the responsibility for his actions. A living one was another thing.
“Very well,” Ulric conceded. “I understand that there were tactical considerations that would have made contacting me difficult. I will therefore simply assume this: that you were pre-emptively accepting any demand I made for you to resort to your second bid.”
Using both the Saber Cat and two trinaries of aerospace fighters, heavily weighted with the Smoke Jaguars’ new and prized Sabutai omnifighter, meant that Osis had not just resorted to the previous bid he’d made. He’d gone back to the bid before that, a choice that allowed Ulric to ask even more of him.
“As loremaster of the bidding for Rasalhague,” Edmund Hoyt declared, “I claim the right to refute any truly excessive claim on this point. However… I recognise that Khan Kerensky is within his rights to demand significant compensation from Khan Osis.”
For a moment, the Wolf considered demanding production rights to the Sabutai, but the Wolves were already well-equipped with heavy fighters. No, he would stick with his original plan to leave Lincoln Osis as a politically crippled reminder to the Smoke Jaguars.
“My price is this,” Ulric informed the towering Smoke Jaguar Khan. “Your future. I claim your genetic legacy for Clan Wolf.”
“Neg!” Osis exclaimed, eyes going wide.
Hoyt’s gavel struck the desk he sat at. “You are out of order, Khan Osis. You have yielded all say on this matter.”
The Khan gave his loremaster a betrayed look.
“One moment while I verify the extent of what you are claiming, Khan Kerensky.” Hoyt continued. He tapped the console built into the desk, no doubt reminding himself of what Clan Smoke Jaguar’s scientists had done with the genetic legacy of their Khan.
If the Khan was of Franklin Osis’ legacy, then Ulric thought that this would be denied. The first Khan of Clan Smoke Jaguar’s descendants were the exclusive domain of his Clan and they would yield that up only over the dead bodies of much of their touman. It was about as likely as Clan Wolf giving up Ulric’s own legacy and opening claims by an outside claim to the Kerensky bloodname. But Osis was one of the handful of bloodnames that was doubled - more than one of the founding warriors of the Clans had carried it. Lincoln Osis was a descendant of Franklin’s cousin Terissa - and while no one outside Clan Smoke Jaguar had ever successfully claimed a bloodright in that house, the right to try had escaped their grasp generations ago.
The pause was long enough for the Khans to begin murmuring amongst themselves, hasty bargaining as they discussed what to do in the wider scale.
At last, the loremaster sat back. “No other bloodhouse has thus far been allowed to create offspring of Khan Osis. As this affects only the Khan and his bloodhouse, I judge the concession to be fair.”
It wasn’t possible for Lincoln Osis to truly pale, but he had an unhealthy pallor as he slumped into his seat.
“The scientist caste will be instructed to transfer his giftake to Clan Wolf. What are your wishes regarding the sibkos created from his genetic material?” Hoyt continued. “Destruction?”
As tempting as it was to order them destroyed, Ulric knew that Phelan was watching. And not only would purging children destroy the trust he was beginning to get from that interesting bondsman, it would also get back to Focht and the Primus. “Neg. Have them sent to us as well. We aim for our offspring to surpass us - if Lincoln Osis’ children can prove themselves wiser than he, then they may yet serve the Clans well.”
“It that satisfies your personal business, Khan Kerensky, we may proceed to discuss the Grand Council’s judgment, quiaff?” enquired the ilKhan sourly.
He bowed slightly and took his place. “Of course, ilKhan.”
Showers stared at Osis for a long moment. “Lincoln,” he said with forced calm. “Why did you not read the advisory?”
“How could I trust data provided by those spheroids?” Osis spat. “They have no understanding of honor - look at how they destroyed their HPG when it seemed Khan Weaver would take it.”
Ulric shook his head. “Always listen to your enemies, Khan Osis. More carefully than you heed your allies.”
Osis glared at him. “Do not provoke me, Kerensky. I have little left to lose by challenging you.”
Showers raised his hand. “And then there is the decision to break your bid without obtaining consent.”
“I could hardly wait! My warriors were dying! Kerensky would have spun it out indefinitely!”
Elias Crichell snorted. “So in short, none of this was your fault? How did you even become Khan?”
There was an uneasy silence and then Sarah Weaver spread her hands. “He defeated me in battle.”
“There is more than that to leadership,” Crichell told her.
“I am aware,” the junior Khan said heavily. “The majority of the Clan Council wanted a fighter to lead us in the invasion.”
“I propose that we censure the khan,” offered Jocelyn Siddiq. The Burrock remained seated. “We have no right to remove him as Khan, there is ample precedent on that point. But we need not allow someone so incompetent to sit amongst us.”
Edmund Hoyt tried very hard not to look interested, as well he might. For his part, Leo Showers nodded. “You are correct that Lincoln Osis has not technically exceeded the martial code… however much of a disappointment he has proven to be. Does anyone wish to speak against this motion?”
“Only to add a recommendation,” Garth Radick spoke up. “The Smoke Jaguar Clan Council may wish to consider who ought to have restrained their Khan. The fact that he gave the orders does not excuse those who obeyed, or those who stood aside and allowed this to happen.”
There were times Ulric was glad Radick was his saKhan, and this was one of them. While ostensibly directed at Weaver and Hoyt, it was also an oblique criticism of the ilKhan.
To his credit, Leo Showers nodded. “That is correct. And the conduct of Operation Revival is ultimately my responsibility. Khan Kerensky, your hospitality aboard the Dire Wolf has been exemplary. However, I shall move my staff aboard the Streaking Mist to provide the Smoke Jaguars with closer supervision.”
“It has been our honor to serve as your command post,” Ulric lied smoothly. Garth Radick smiled with similarly insincere regrets. Showers might be a fellow Crusader, but he was still a Smoke Jaguar and no Wolf clansman had enjoyed his presence on the Dire Wolf.
“Hearing no objections, I call the vote,” the ilKhan declared.
Unsurprisingly, the vote went entirely against Osis and with a grimace, the man cut the feed from his location. A moment later and Edmund Hoyt’s image (and part of the desk he was sat at) blinked across the chamber to occupy the space that Osis had occupied. By custom, if a khan was under censure, their place was taken by the loremaster.
“I recommend that Daskin Ward serve as interim Loremaster to the Grand Council,” Ulric offered. There was no real chance that the still-Crusader-heavy Grand Council would accept the Wolf loremaster in the long run - most likely the Jade Falcons or the surprisingly effective Diamond Sharks would push for their loremaster to take up the position - but it would keep things going for now. And if Elias Crichell and Ian Hawker got into an extended contest to sit their own preferred loremaster then so much the better.
“Is that necessary?” asked Ian Hawker.
“I wish to propose a further measure,” Karl Bourjon offered from where he had been sitting quietly.
Showers nodded. “Approved. Call him now.”
It only took a moment for Ward to arrive and take his place.
“What is your proposal, Khan Bourjon?”
“I recommend a complete ban on orbital bombardment,” the mechwarrior declared. “The Inner Sphere has no warships of their own, so our own serve no purpose but transport anyway. This level of barbarity should not be enabled.”
“That is a sweeping statement,” Showers observed. “Certainly it was not merited in this case.”
Barbara Sennet rose to her feet. “I do not see any valid cause for the use of bombardment against cities and industrial centers. However, there may be exceptional cases where fortifications and military facilities could otherwise cost us significant losses. I oppose a blanket ban, just as I would if the idea was to ban the use of our ‘mechs, our elementals or our aerospace assets.”
“For circumstances like that, we have aerospace fighters,” Bourjon pointed out. “And a ban would speak to the Inner Sphere of our sincerity.”
“Words count for little, Karl,” his saKhan pointed out. Theresa DelVillar was an elemental but one known for being much more reasonable than Lincoln Osis. “Actions are what matter.”
Showers folded his arms. “Both sides have merit. Shall we vote?”
Ulric voted for the ban. The less chance of bringing the Inner Sphere to the point of using weapons of mass destruction, the better. If things became that indiscriminate, he doubted Clan Wolf would be spared as a target. Unfortunately, most of the Khans seemed to feel that Barbara Sennet had made a better point.
“My understanding is that the Saber Cat was seriously damaged during the bombardment of Reykjavik,” DelVillar observed once the vote was called. “However, it remains part of the forces committed by Clan Smoke Jaguar. I propose that it should remain counted as such even if it needs to return to the homeworlds for repair.”
Sarah Weaver glared angrily at the Ghost Bear. “The Saber Cat will need months simply to reach a yard, and it would be as long before a replacement arrived.”
“And you’ll have to fight for yardtime at Lum,” Lynne McKenna warned her. The diminutive Snow Raven Khan did not appear intimidated at all. “I suspect other shipyards will be similarly reluctant to work on a dezgra vessel.”
“One warship more or less will matter little as the Inner Sphere has none,” the ilKhan said. “And the Saber Cat would likely be a target for further attacks. I approve of this interpretation of the forces committed.”
Ian Hawker leant forwards. “On that topic… Khan Bourjon, Khan DelVillar, your touman remains in the homeworlds, quaiff?”
The two Ghost Bears exchanged looks and then nodded. “Aff, Khan Hawker,” agreed Bourjon.
“I am formally requesting that as the primary reserve you deploy the three galaxies you bid to the Inner Sphere,” the Diamond Shark told them. “If we have need of you, we may be in a situation where waiting months is not practical.”
“Where do you propose that they stage to?” asked Timur Malthus derisively. “You will host them in your invasion corridor, quineg?”
“Aff,” Sennet corrected him. For once the two Diamond Shark Khans seemed to be of one mind. “We offer basing rights on Richmond, a world we claimed in the first wave, for the duration of Operation Revival.”
“We accept,” DelVillar answered without waiting for her superior.
He nodded though. “The orders will be issued, Khan Hawker, Khan Sennet. Clan Ghost Bear thanks you for your hospitality.”
“Do you anticipate the need for the reserve?” enquired Leo Showers.
Hawker looked reluctant, but then nodded. “Our losses have thus far been light but we are not currently fighting the best that the Inner Sphere has. That will change, and I refuse to underestimate them. In fact, I would be… interested in hearing what concessions would be sought by the assembled Khans to allow my Clan to bring their forces up to the second round bid for Operation Revival.”
Ulric Kerensky could think of no word in his lexicon that would describe his fury at Ian Hawker in that moment, but inside his head he borrowed one particularly pungent spheroid term from his bondsman. Hawker, you ******!
Black Pearl Base, Sudeten
Tamar March, Federated Commonwealth
21 July 3050
Sudeten’s main spaceport was a hive of activity and two officers arriving without ‘mechs were almost beneath notice. Victor Steiner-Davion was beginning to hope that he’d be able to avoid any formalities, when he was directed into the military annex and found a small number of officers waiting for him - three different formal uniforms representing the AFFC and two famous mercenary units.
“Victor.” The first man to greet him had more gray in his beard than he had when they last met. “It’s good to see you.” Morgan Kell clasped the prince by the shoulders. “When I heard about Trellwan, I feared that your mother would have to go through what Salome and I have.”
“I… at the time I hadn’t really considered that,” Victor admitted. “Has there been any news about Phelan? We know now that the Clans do take prisoners.”
Morgan exhaled. “Officially, no. But unofficially, Primus Wei Rong sent Salome a private message. She said that the Clans have specifically prohibited anyone they consider a bondsman from sending messages home, and denied ComStar’s request to inform families of the bondsmen that their loved ones are alive.”
“That barbaric,” Galen murmured. “I’m sorry, Colonel.”
“No, Galen…” Victor explained, pleased for once to be the one quicker on the uptake. “The Primus would have no reason to send that message if she didn’t have some information about Phelan being in their hands.”
The old mercenary nodded. “Indeed. She’s bending neutrality further than she should, but I cannot bring myself to complain.”
Victor indicated his companion. “I’m sorry, I should make introductions. This is Kommandant Galen Cox, the man who got me off Trellwan.”
“Kicking and screaming, as I understand it.” The man who stepped forwards was also Victor’s kinsman, though on the other side. Morgan Hasek-Davion towered above the rest of those present, his long red hair hanging over the epaulets that marked him as Marshal of the Armies - the most senior officer short of the First Prince and Archon in the AFFC.
“Screaming, yes,” he allowed, embarrassed. “A dislocated arm will do that. I don’t recall any kicking though.”
“That sounds accurate,” Galen agreed and saluted the Marshal crisply. “Sir.”
“At ease, Kommandant.” Victor’s cousin returned the salute casually. “I’m glad to have some officers who’ve faced the Clans here. That experience may be badly needed.”
Victor made a face. “Staff positions?” He supposed it made sense - both of them had left their ‘mechs on Trellwan, and it would make them available for consultation - although honestly, it would make more sense to have hired some of the Wolf Dragoons. Their knowledge of the Clans might be out-of-date but it was far more in-depth than the few days of fighting that he’d had.
“If you’d like to spend time passing canapes and managing my calendar, I’m sure your parents would be happier,” Hasek-Davion said teasingly. “I could give the company I had in mind for you to Kai instead.”
“Kai!” Victor twisted to look around Morgan and recognised the other AFFC officer, who’d been self-effacingly hanging back. “It’s good to see you again,” the prince called and then looked at Morgan. “I’m not going to turn down a company, Morgan, but you know what a kicking we took on Trellwan.”
“It’s easier to learn from mistakes than from success,” a gray-uniformed officer said sagely. “And no offense, Prince Victor, learning from your past mistakes will be cheaper for my troops than my own.”
“Colonel Carlyle,” the young prince offered him a salute. “It’s an honor.” Then he turned to the final officer, a brown-haired AFFC kommandant. There was something familiar about his face though. “I don’t think we’ve met.”
“Adam Steiner,” the kommandant identified himself and then shook his head slightly when Victor looked at him with an implicit question. “It’s a distant connection, I went to the Nagelring as an instructor right after you graduated.”
“And now you’re here?” Victor asked, wondering if this was his new battalion commander.
The other Steiner glanced away. “I’m from Somerset. I requested a frontline assignment.”
Somerset, Victor recalled, had fallen to Clan Jade Falcon even before Trellwan. It was on the fringes of the Commonwealth - known mostly for its small military academy and that the mentally ill Archon Simon Borge-Steiner had retired there after his abdication. Presumably, Adam’s ancestor. “I’m sorry.”
“Yes.” His newly met cousin coughed, embarrassedly. “We’re here to do more than be sorry. Since you made it out, maybe there’s hope for my brother.”
Morgan Kell nodded. “Indeed. We’re here to hit back.”
The other Morgan nodded. “Let me fill you in, Victor. I want both of you in the field, but in the meantime we’ll be picking your brains. And yes, Kommandant Cox, there’s a battalion waiting for you.”
“Well, that’s not something I’ll turn down,” Galen said. He sounded surprised though, which wasn’t unreasonable. Most regiments preferred to promote up - shipping wasn’t up to routinely moving officers between regiments. If a kommandant’s slot was open for him, that would usually mean a hauptmann in that regiment was being passed over. Several hauptmanns in fact. “I’ve no ‘mech though.”
“Not any more,” the Marshal told him. “The Archon is not ungrateful for your help, so there’s a factory-fresh Hatchetman waiting for you. And unlike the one you were assigned before, this one is yours - not a loaner from the AFFC.”
“Congratulations, Galen!” Owning their own mech was a big step for a mechwarrior. Almost enough to keep Victor from wondering what might be waiting for him. Almost.
Morgan Kell saw through him, of course. “You, on the other hand, lost a brand new Victor.” He shook his head disapprovingly. “There’s a clapped-out Warhammer in the hangar for you - but your mother says she wants it back. It’s a family heirloom after all.”
It only took a moment for Victor to grasp what that meant. “You mean… grandmother’s mech?”
“Yeah,” he said, eyes clouding over. “I think Katrina would want you to use it. Clovis Holstein came along and he’s been refitting the cooling system while we were traveling. I’m almost sure he put it back together properly. There weren’t too many components left over and we slapped some armor patches over the cracks. You can hardly tell the difference.”
“You’ll have to rush to get used to it,” Adam warned. “We’re leaving soon.”
Victor looked over at him. “You said we’re hitting back - Somerset?”
“Maybe next time,” Hasek-Davion told them. “Our objective is Twycross. All the reports are that the Clans focus most of their forces in the advance, leaving fairly limited garrisons behind them. It’ll be months before we have enough regiments in place to stop their advance - but the idea is to hit one of the worlds that just fell once their leading elements have moved on.”
Victor considered the idea. “I see the logic… but are you planning to hold it?”
“Pulling the Jade Falcons back to fight for Twycross again might take some of the pressure off their advance,” Kai offered, with his characteristic caution. “But the main goal is to gather information, maybe some salvage… and to evacuate tooling from the factories.”
“That makes more sense. You’ve been in on the planning, Kai?”
“A little,” the other young heir admitted in his usual self-deprecating manner. It was hard at times to remember that Kai was son of the First Prince’s left-hand man and heir to the St Ives Compact. The last might have been the smallest state in the Inner Sphere, but it was still a sovereignty in its own right.
“Our main concern is that the Jade Falcons may resort to using one of the warships,” Colonel Carlyle warned. “Even all our forces combined don’t have as many aerospace fighters as there were at Rasalhague.”
Victor hunched his shoulders slightly. If there was anyone in the Inner Sphere who hadn’t heard of the bombardment of Reykjavik, it was because they were avoiding the news. ComStar had spread the word - along with imagery of the aftermath, and the last data they had received from the destroyed HPG station. Although he’d left Terra before the news arrived, it had overtaken he and Galen on their way to Sudeten.
“Our orders there are clear,” the Marshal told them. “If any Clan warship is encountered, we’ll open communications and deliver an ultimatum directly to them: if any warship approaches bombardment range of a planet, we’ll consider ourselves free to engage with nuclear weapon. And we won’t be sending up a single squadron carrying them. Our task force will be taking enough to give a missile to each and every aerospace fighter we take, if that’s what it takes. Whether they’re a House Regular or a mercenary.”
Victor bit back a whistle. Deploying nuclear weapons as a precaution wasn’t unheard of, but they were very rarely placed in the hands of mercenaries. Then again, there weren’t many mercenaries as trusted as the Kell Hounds or Colonel Carlyle’s Gray Death Legion.
“Trellwan’s not far from Twycross,” he said instead. “I know it’s asking a lot, but if any of the Twelfth Donegal Guards are holding out…”
It was Adam Steiner who replied. “Our last report is that they have barely any ‘mechs left, but they haven’t given up yet. If all goes well on Twycross, which is a big if, then I’ll take a jumpship and a small force to try to extract as many of them as we can.”
“If you’re…” Victor paused and looked at Galen, who was giving him a forbidding look. “Alright, don’t break my arm this time.”
“Don’t tempt me.” The kommandant shook his head. “I feel sorry for whoever winds up in charge of you this time.”
“Self-pity does not become you,” Morgan Hasek-Davion told Cox. “I’m not breaking up a winning team.”
Victor made a face. “Well, I wouldn’t want to have to break in a new kommandant.”
Galen shook his head sadly. “I should have known the Hatchetman was a bribe.”
“You see what you’re getting,” the Marshal told Kai wryly. “This is your new chain of command.”
“Tenth Lyran Guards?” Victor asked. “I heard you requested them over the Davion Heavy Guards, Kai.”
“I’m in Echo Company,” Kai confirmed. “We’re short several officers. There was… well…”
“Quite a considerable quantity of the supplies and equipment that should have been in service with the Tenth turns out to be mysteriously absent,” Morgan Kell said bluntly. “And a number of the officers and enlisted were found to have significant amounts of money in ComStar bank accounts. Much more than their reported income would support. If Frederick Steiner was still alive he’d probably have torn them limb from limb, but as it is the Judge Advocate General’s office has taken charge of them.”
The younger Morgan nodded. “Normally I wouldn’t send a unit in that state out again, but we can’t wait for another RCT to arrive. I’ve rolled what’s left of the Seventeenth Skye Rangers into them. They’re… not exactly happy that Francis Bissell refused to send jumpships to get them off Barcelona. I can see his point, but it’s playing badly in Skye. Fortunately one of Transport Command’s officers took his ship in against orders, but it’s going to be challenging for you.”
Victor nodded. The Boys of Summer were about as good a unit as any the AFFC had, but they were also tied very heavily to Free Skye. “If it gave me another shot at the Clans, I’d take a company in the Marik Militia right now - although maybe not the Red Lancers.” Although he might be safer in the lead unit of the Capellan Confederation than a unit filled out by Skye Rangers with a chip on their shoulders.
“Consider it a mark of my faith in you,” his cousin told him. “At least on Twycross there will be an outside enemy for them to focus on.”
-
CDSS Terror of the Deep, Hanover
Clan Diamond Shark Occupation Zone
1 August 3050
The meeting chamber on Terror from the Deep wasn’t as crowded now. Ace and the other Alpha Galaxy star commanders were present, but Gamma Galaxy and Omega Galaxy were represented only by Barbara Sennet and Bikendi Vewas respectively.
Ian Hawker entered the room last and glowered around. “The Grand Council have delivered their verdict,” the Khan told Ace. “In exchange for releasing the additional three clusters of our previous bid, they wanted me to cede all of our enclaves on Tathis and New Kent.”
Ace ran his hand through his hair, thinking. He’d never been to Tathis but it wasn’t a particularly large colony. New Kent, on the other hand, had the valuable mines at Eagle Crater that he’d defended from Clan Steel Viper early in his career.
“We should accept,” Barbara Sennet informed them without hesitation.
Still settling into his seat, Hawker sat up straight. “There are millions of our Clan’s workers in those enclaves.”
“Just under three million,” she confirmed. “What of it? We are orbiting a world with a population of half a billion. If even one in a hundred embraces the Way of the Clans then it leaves our Clan stronger than all the civilian castes on both those worlds.” She paused to let that sink in. “Naturally we should remove the most valued workers from the enclaves first - anyone directly supporting the touman, or who might be useful in administering our new domain in the Inner Sphere.”
“Tathis’ main value to us is as a shipping hub,” noted Vewas. The galaxy commander was very familiar with garrison roles across the homeworlds. “But if we’re also giving up New Kent then we have less need to ship in and out of that part of the Kerensky cluster and our shipping lines are strained supporting our operations here. Consolidating would let the merchants focus on other routes.”
Hawker turned and glared at Ace. “I suppose you also support this idea.”
“I an powless to challenge saKhan Sennet or Galaxy Commander Vewas on their arguments,” Ace admitted. “The economics of our Clan are something I am still learning of.”
Hawker snorted and sat down. “The Clan Council will have to decide,” he told them rather petulantly.
That would likely lead to a vote in favor of the trade, Ace thought. Hundreds of warriors had been brought to the Inner Sphere in the guise of Provisional Galaxy Clusters but they and ‘reserve’ warriors who had retired to the civilian castes also provided a pool of replacements. Given the chance to join the invasion fully, there would be an immediate bloc within the bloodnamed warriors in support of the idea.
He supposed it would seem odd to some Clans that the Warden Sennet favored a shift of focus to the Inner Sphere while the Crusader Hawker was opposed, but that just proved his own belief that those terms were becoming obsolete - if they had ever been anything but a gross oversimplification in the first place.
“This opens the opportunity for other Clans to do the same,” Vewas pointed out. “The Smoke Jaguars’ second round bid wasn’t much lower than ours but everyone else was more conservative. The Jade Falcons could bring in two additional galaxies - I have to wonder what would be demanded of them for that.”
“It would be more interesting if the Ghost Bears did that, although I find it hard to imagine our cousins giving up sizable territory.” Sennet pursed her lips. “They would be able to commit double their final bid, making them the largest part of the invasion.”
“And meanwhile Clan Wolf, who did not have to bid at all…?” asked Ace thoughtfully. “Their third wave is pushing well ahead of any of the Clans.”
Sennet smiled thinly. “Given the irregular spacing of worlds, simple range decides nothing. I have confidence in your plan, Star Colonel. We cannot control what other Clans do, only our own actions.”
Hawker nodded and then speared Ace with another look. “You have updated your plan, quaiff? Where do we begin?”
“You intend to adopt it?” Vewas sounded surprised.
“Aff,” the Khan said flatly. “Without Polcenigo as a stepping stone it would be inconvenient to try to claim worlds along the anti-spinward side of the Rasalhague Rift. Let the Smoke Jaguars take those worlds and we will use the rift as a natural boundary between us. Once we are past that obstacle, if a gap remains then we can request the deployment of Clan Ghost Bear to fill it. I spoke of the possibility with Theresa DelVillar when settling the details of their basing rights and they would be very interested.” He gave Sennet a slightly smug smile. “I am not incapable of playing at politics, Barbara.”
“Excellent. With both of our support, the Clan Council will be favorably inclined,” she said.
Ace took control of the display. The notional line marking where the Diamond Sharks had expected to be at this stage of the invasion was somewhat behind reality - three worlds below it had been taken in the third wave. Ace focused in on the irregular oblong formed by the theoretical goals for the fourth and fifth waves. Pesht hung just outside this area, almost touching the line delineating the flank of the Clans’ invasion and parallel to the fifth
“Gamma Galaxy continues the advance up to the expected targets for Wave Four,” he said, indicating the next three worlds - Byesville, Wolcott and Marshdale. “The shipping and supplies that we could use to keep pushing up towards the Wave Five line will instead be shifted Spinwards.”
“McAlister, Hyner and Maldonado,” Vewas observed. “Perhaps Herndon as well - staging areas for an assault on Pesht.”
Ace shook his head. “Neg, Galaxy Commander. Our intelligence says that four DCMS regiments are concentrating on Pesht, fresh troops joining units that managed to withdraw ahead of us. These are District Regulars, above average in their quality and equipment. Pesht may already be better defended than Rasalhague. So we strike now.”
“I like it!” Hawker exclaimed, sounding surprised by that fact.
“The details?” enquired Sennet.
“We will bypass McAlister and Maldonado,” Ace explained. “You are correct that Herndon is desirable,” he added to Vewas, “Taking that world and then Unity would solidify our flank, but we will have no forces to spare. One of the Omega clusters will take Hyner while Alpha Galaxy - using the same supply route - moves on directly to Pesht and we commit all four clusters.” He borrowed Sennet’s trick of a small pause. “We are not bidding against another Clan so rushing below cutdown is not necessary, quiaff?”
“You may consider this our bid from Alpha Galaxy,” Hawker told the other two galaxy commanders. “If you believe you can take Pesht with less, say so.”
Neither spoke up. The losses on Rasalhague had been sobering. Even without the sickness that had disabled the Nineteenth Striker Cluster, the Smoke Jaguar forces had taken combat losses that would leave all three Clusters out of action until the fifth wave.
Hawker nodded. “So, we take Pesht. And then?”
Ace indicated the map, shifting slightly rimwards. “For the fifth wave we sweep onwards and seize the eight worlds indicated here. I would like to add Meinacos and Unity, but that ambition would exceed our resources. Two targets for each galaxy, if we gain approval to activate another galaxy.”
“Kappa Spina?” asked Hawker, studying the unit designations.
Ace shrugged. “A provisional designation. Three clusters is the normal size for a Spina Galaxy. If you prefer those clusters added to the existing galaxies then it makes no real difference to the plan.”
Vewas nodded. “A Spina Galaxy would be useful.” Traditionally straddling the line between a frontline and garrison force, the Diamond Sharks’ Spina Galaxies were rapid reaction forces. “And Kappa is as good a designation as any.”
“I take it this is to blood the new Galaxy?” asked Sennet. “Forming new units requires more than simply bringing troops and equipment to one place, quiaff?”
“Aff.” Ace indicated jump routes from Pesht. “Our primary goal for Wave Five is Cyrenaica. Alpha Galaxy will reach that star system via Irece.”
“Are you pandering to my ego?” asked Hawker sarcastically.
“Alpha Galaxy is both the best placed and the best Galaxy, quiaff?” asked Ace rhetorically. And then he indicated one single system that lay beyond Cyrenaica. “And for the sixth wave we strike here.”
Hawker frowned. “One world? Our entire sixth wave is committed to one world.”
“It is their Strana Mechty,” Ace told him simply. “House Kurita will defend it with everything that they have and it will take our full strength to break them. We may even need to commit warships for tactical bombardment, which runs a high risk of nuclear weapons being used against them. But if we break the Combine’s strength here we have shown that we can break them anywhere.” Just not everywhere, he added privately.
Vewas hissed. “You saw how bombardment turned out on Rasalhague,” he warned.
Sennet nodded. “You are not discussing striking at cities or factories, quineg? Those are goals to be acquired for the Clan.”
“I would prefer not to risk a warship at all,” Ace clarified. “The only justifiable reason would be to break through fortifications that would otherwise cost unsustainable losses to take. Firing on civilian targets would be wasteful.”
The three galaxy commanders exchanged looks and then the saKhan nodded. “The use of warships will be kept under tight control,” she proposed. “Precise targeting will be required and since we can hardly confer with the entire Clan Council during a battle, only the agreement of all three… no, there will be four Galaxy Commanders. All four Galaxy Commanders must approve their use. Not even a Khan should have the freedom to employ them without restraint.”
Hawker sat back in his chair. “We are in agreement. I will be very satisfied if we never need that contingency. I will not be a second Lincoln Osis.” He indicated the world in the map. “Very well. I approve this plan, what do you call it?” He studied the display and found the file identifier. “Operation Black Pearl?”
“It’s our target’s nickname,” Ace admitted. “The black pearl of the Draconis Combine: Luthien.”
This concludes Book 1: Dealer’s Choice
Opalescent Reflections will continue in
House of Cards
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Mic drop ...
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Ace certainly doesn't aim low! :o
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And Irece will give them a Mech/LAM factory. The DS should be setting up weapons factories and armor factories in the IS.
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Fingers crossed the Sharks aren't as anti-LAM as the rest... :D
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Fingers crossed the Sharks aren't as anti-LAM as the rest... :D
the funny thing is that LAMs could be good at recon and countering light insurgent forces the clan will be facing. All it would cost them would be some time and a few parts to get the old SLDF factories back up to full production.
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the funny thing is that LAMs could be good at recon and countering light insurgent forces the clan will be facing. All it would cost them would be some time and a few parts to get the old SLDF factories back up to full production.
Conventional Air or VTOLs would be way, way cheaper than LAMs, with no real loss of capability either.
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Conventional Air or VTOLs would be way, way cheaper than LAMs, with no real loss of capability either.
yes but for fuel, how fast they move, how high they fly, and far they can fly without need a base... and we are talking about clans who don't like VTOLs or Conventional aircraft that much.
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Sub-orbital flight is a capability neither VTOLs nor Conventional aircraft can match.
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Conventional Air or VTOLs would be way, way cheaper than LAMs, with no real loss of capability either.
That's highly dependent on what your support infrastructure is geared for though. iirc the Diamond Sharks aren't heavy into the use of vehicles, but they DO heavily employ both 'mechs, and ASF, meaning that the tech-tree's a bit richer for them.
you can think of it this way: Horses are cheaper than motorcycles, but if you don't have troops trained on horses, you end up bringing motorcycles instead.
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A Stinger LAM with DHS and three clanner ER Mediums would be a very scary thing.
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A Stinger LAM with DHS and three clanner ER Mediums would be a very scary thing.
You could refit a STG-A1 to carry a single Clan ERLL. It's already got DHS.
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:o :o
Lofty goals to aim for. And nice to see that censure of Osis.
Jeez, I wonder how the Gunji-no-Kanrei Theodore Kurita will react to this push by the Sharks...
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As good as it was to watch the murderous idiot getting pounded upon by the council and Ulric in particular, with Jaguars getting a fair dose of heat for putting him in that place at all, Sharks outmaneuvering everyone was really a lightning out of the blue, Ulric was surely planning to manipulate Showers into saddling them with Vipers. While I reckon this was Sennet's idea, with Hawker being coached into presenting it as the senior khan of the clan, although he did show increased self-awareness during the planning session, so he is not a complete fool who just happens to fight well. Still, the planning shows that even though the Sharks have good relations between the castes, even for Wardens among warriors the lower castes are nothing but resources to be traded or fought over, they feel no allegiance to them, which ties well into the first meeting between Ace and Barbara Sennet, where he pointed out how little difference there is between Wardens and Crusaders.
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The discussion among the DS showed how little they cared for the lower castes trading away those who have been loyal for generations for a military advantage. Then expecting to gain loyal followers out of the IS population who again they can trade away if it's to their advantage
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It's almost like Ace is trying to kick over the whole rotten structure from within... ::)
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The reason the Clans disdained LAMs is that they required two skill-sets -- the pilot has to be trained as both a 'mechwarrior and an ASF pilot. This goes counter to their caste rules. They tried using a dual cockpit with one of each but it proved unsatisfactory. In the end they converted the Irece LAM factory to produce conventional 'mechs.
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As I said, I hope the sharks are more enlightened... ^-^
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then again they could also sell them. it might be after the treaty, but they did sell mechs to the rest of the IS.
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But in OTL they did not have an occupation zone of their own, while in TTL they have, so they would be selling mechs that would be used against them.
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Realize that this maybe as obvious as it gets (hey that's a nose on your face there buddy... :D) but the Smoke Jaguar occupied zone is going to be an inferno for that clan. Rasalhague after a 'brief mourning' period is going to tie up Galaxies worth of PGCs! Likely 1/4 to 1/3 of all that the SJs have and more then likely a couple to few of front line clusters. Being as rabidly Crusader and Warrior caste supremacists that is not going to go very well for the FRR partisans. Heck I think pre-world war one Balkans would be a nicer more stable environment (Bulgaria Ottoman border/Serbia Austria-Hungary) then the calmest part of Rasalhague. The DC worlds may even be worse with thousands of years of 'magic Bushido hands' indoctrination and rule (look at the eastern front during world war two authoritian states slaughtering each other as mercilessly as possible), that's not going to mesh well with SJ's warrior caste. Rasalhague is the just 'first' of the atrocities, it may not be the worst! If you cross a line you try to NOT do so again, but with insurgencies tying up SJs forces, brutally killing SJs warriors(you 'nuke' our capital from orbit...). The SJs may take it once, they may take it twice, but anything more and there will be a 'FIGHT'. It would be ironic as the Green Turkeys, err Jade Falcons have just enough sense(may literally be an iota) NOT to Play that game with the FC and the FC wants their worlds in 'functional' status, so the JF OZ though warm, even a blaze from time to time is not a 'thermonuclear fire' that the SJs OZ is(at times literally).
It doesn't help that the FRR has been 'resisting' every power in the area (mostly the ruthless DC, but I am sure they played 'nicer' games with the LC for the same goal) and to go 1st Succession War on their capital world, well the 'Viking' isn't gong back to the 'Swede' for some time. So, buckle up SJ warriors, your ride already rough might end up with a trail of annihilation from the Clans and the Vikings of the FRR are going to do so just for Rasalhague! Though the Wolves, Falcons (especially), Sharks and Bears (oh my! ;D) are going to get blow back regardless of what measure they take to mitigate and distance themselves from the SJs. The Crusader's party (as much as it was a 'party') is over Lincoln Osis messed everything thing up! Thank you.
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Not to mention that OTL Black Omen shenanigans should be going on right now, driving Jaguar rage meter a further notch up.
[Jaguar warrior]: ''Ours goes to eleven.''
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Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls!
Welcome to today's show, and we have a real special for you tonight, oh yes we do.
In the red corner, weighing in with nine regiments of 'mechs (with a sneaky twenty-nine battalions between them) we have the best of the best of the DCMS, fighting on their home ground.
But that's not all!
No sir, in addition to that, there has been a surprise development with seven further crack battalions of mercenaries arriving at the last moment - hot to drop!
It's quite a line-up, ladies and gents, quite the line-up! Theodore Kurita has assembled a crack team - three regiments of the infamous Sword of Light, the remains of the legendary Genyosha and many more. Old Takashi himself is there in person, but in another twist he's raised his own regiment rather than fighting alongside the Otomo or the Sword of Light - a bold strategy, we'll see how it works out for them!
And facing them in the blue corner, we have a new challenger! A new face that has been rising like a star in recent months and is now hitting the big time! None other than Clan Diamond Shark is pitching their hat into the ring for one of the grandest, most famous title matches of all times. We all expected the Federated Commonwealth, ladies and gentlemen. There were even bets that it would have happened by now! But no! It's the mysterious new merchants of death, the dorsal fins of disaster, the most glorious gems in the crown of Kerensky that have come here tonight!
And let me tell you, they are loaded for dragon! Oh yes they are!
Not one, not two, not even three galaxies... there are four galaxies, count them, four galaxies descending on Luthien for your pleasure! Alpha, Gamma, Omega and (after a special ruling by the judges of the Grand Council) the newest and most unexpected of participants in our bout tonight, Kappa Spina. This is their debut, ladies and gentlemen, so let's give them a big hand!
Fif-teen, I say again, fifteen clusters! They have OmniMechs, they have Elementals, they have Aerospace Fighters and - up their in the big black they have, I am assured, Warships!
Oh yes. It's back! The crushing force of warships could be decisive today. But before any of you worry that this will be one of the legendary yawnfests that sapped all the tension out of the old Star League series, rest assured that both sides have shaken hands on the principle that such fireworks are only to be used for the big finale.
Now that might not count for much when tempers get hot, folks. But it's the spirit that counts.
So all of fifteen clusters of Diamond Sharks against twelve regiments of the DCMS and some of the best mercenaries around. Takashi's blood pressure must be sky high, and so are anticipations.
This is bigger than Rasalhague!
It's bigger than Tikonov!
It's even bigger than Galtor!
Folks, it's a privilege to invite you all to the biggest battle any of us are likely to see!
And with no further ado - well, perhaps a word from our sponsors? Only kidding, folks. I wouldn't do that to you.
Let's
Get
Ready
to
RUUUUUUMMMMMMMMBLE!
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You simply know how to build the hype ;D
I've got my popcorn and my opera glasses, I'm ready as can be.
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Can we get the names of the seven battalions of mercenaries?
Because OTL is 7 Regiments - and everybody knows who they are.
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Very well done hype! :D
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Can we get the names of the seven battalions of mercenaries?
Because OTL is 7 Regiments - and everybody knows who they are.
All in good time.
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Won't stop us from guessing wildly.
Since there is no year of peace it is unlikely Kell Hounds could be sent in time, so they are out. The logistics of getting mercenaries to get mercenaries to Luthien in time will be much more hurried affair than OTL, so it's possible that this is battalions of Wolf's Dragoons, that could be crammed into dropships that could be taken on a fast circuit to Luthien.
If it's independent battalions then it could be Spider and Zeta battalions of WD, Barber's Marauders...
Or it could be two regiments and one battalion...
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Ignore me, I'm just here to tag this as it flew completely under my radar and I binged it today.
Great as always, drakensis!
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For SLDF versus "real SLDF" it could be the the Eridani Light Horse 😁
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Oh damn. 15 clusters vs 29 battalions is... well, may the spirits help the Dracs.
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May the Shark Slay the Dragon
May the Suns Liberate Galedon, Benjamin and Dieron!
May the Swords Skewer the Diamond Sharks and the Fist hammer the Pigeons!
No way it will go that 'well' but one can as the Suns rise hope for the best!
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Oh damn. 15 clusters vs 29 battalions is... well, may the spirits help the Dracs.
That's mech battalions, there are also numerous armor and infantry battalions.
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7 Battalions isn't a lot of force...unless they're kitted out in full Star League tech, with early Clanbuster configurations. Assuming that 60% of the Stars are Omnimecsh and battlemechs, that's about 540 mechs vs 1044. 20% elementals, and 10% ASFs, that's 1000 elementals and 200 ASFS. The rest can be support vehicles and regular infantry to pad formations out against ninjas sneaking past the front lines.
Pyrrhic victory seems like the most likely outcome for the diamond Sharks. Heavy losses, but not total. Maybe a Khan replacement or two will be needed.
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I'm sure Ace will pull something out of the mess.
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Opalescent Reflections
House of Cards
Chapter 1
[/b]
Motor City, Pesht
Pesht Military District, Draconis Combine
6 September 3050
Motor City sprawled across a vast area. Factory after factory that, according to ComStar's information, churned out ground vehicles for almost every civilian purpose imaginable ranging from tiny motorcycles up to vast mobile industrial machinery.
The fortifications around them were far less impressive, improvised berms backed by infantry, tanks and a single battalion of battlemechs.
"What sort of combat vehicles do they build here?" Michel asked as his Warhawk strode through the gates of another complex.
Ace Enders was covering the back of the star's advance. They hadn't seen any of the 'mechs so far - Gamma Trinary had smashed through them outside the city, reporting nothing heavier than a Phoenix Hawk - one of the comparatively tiny Inner Sphere models, little more than half the tonnage of the superior Clan models. The trinary was still pursuing the survivors, more to keep them out of the fight for Motor City than in any expectation of catching them. "Nothing I am aware of."
"What a waste!"
"If they put a machine gun and armor on every truck built here, they could transport an army of Solahma, quiaff," pointed out Norman gruffly. "Even if none posed a great threat individually it would take forever to root them out."
"Aff," Ace agreed. "And the timetable for Operation Revival is necessarily unforgiving." As the size of the Inner Sphere became less a matter of numbers on a datapad and more a visible reality he couldn't help but realize that the plans drawn up on Strana Mechty were flawed… but they did get one thing right. If the Clans didn't reach Terra within the projected two years, they might never achieve that goal.
(What the Clans would do after reaching the homeworld of humanity was a topic he chose not to dwell on while marching his Stormcrow through a hostile city. It bothered him at nights though.)
"No sign of resistance here," reported Michel, backing his massive assault 'mech out of the factory yard he was checking. There were scars on his armor to mark occasions where that had not been the case. None of the ambushes had been severe, but they added up.
"Why were we assigned this mission?" Quinn was the most junior mechwarrior in the Star, younger than Ace - promoted out of a brief stay in Rho Spina Galaxy right before the departure from the homeworlds. "A Strike Cluster could sweep through the city faster than we can, and the Khan might need our firepower to seize Canube."
Ace noted the thought with approval. Quinn was showing some tactical promise. "Khan Hawker believes the Diamond Skate is sufficient to keep the defenders focused on Canube, while the other Clusters pick off outlying targets and their defenders. Then we close in on the warlord and his capital together."
"Aff, but an Assault Cluster would serve better for that role."
"Ian Hawker disagrees, and he commands Alpha Galaxy," Norman told the young warrior flatly. Since his wounds in the trials for a place in the invasion, the mechwarrior had been slow to praise anything the Khan ordered. He was not going as far as openly criticizing the leader of the Clan, but he seemed reluctant to acknowledge any merit either.
They switched formation, with Norman's Gargoyle taking the lead through the city towards the next waypoint.
"The Diamond Skate could have run down the defending 'mechs," Quinn mumbled, less than satisfied by the reply. "They broke almost as soon as they saw us, and we lacked the speed to catch them."
Ace shook his head inside his own cockpit. To be fair, at least a third of the 'mechs of the Third Pesht Regulars battalion posted here had been Panthers that could not escape Gamma Trinary and not one had managed it. Such 'mechs would have been better served fighting in the confines of the city streets but their commander had apparently decided instead to withdraw. "They cannot outrun our aerospace fighters," he said out loud.
"Cowards, like the other defenders here," Michel spat.
"Perhaps. Or their commander may have decided to preserve his 'mech forces to fight for the capital," Ace observed. "If so he left it too late - or should have left his slower forces to fight with the -"
The conversation cut off as a pair of Tokugawa tanks skidded around a corner ahead of the star, road-wheels leaving black streaks on the hard-wearing concrete surface. Both the heavy tanks had their turrets already turned to point at the Star and the heavy autocannon barked viciously, followed by flights of short-ranged missiles.
Ace shifted left by reflex, firing one of his PPCs past Norman's Gargoyle. The shot ripped a rent across the low domed forward hull.
A moment later, the tank had managed to escape around another corner. The second Tokugawa was less fortunate as Norman's autocannon and SRMs blew through each roadwheel along one side of the sixty ton vehicle. It spun in a half-circle, the turret not quite managing to turn to offset the movement, as the remaining wheels kept spinning.
"Stravag!" Quinn shouted and fired his own autocannon. Like Normal he had cluster rounds loaded and the turret locked in place as some of the explosive submunitions found the turret ring and ripped into it.
"Hold fire," Ace ordered, seeing that the tank could no longer even bring its weapons to bear. "Norman, your damage?"
"Armor only," the oldest member of the Star reported. "It's getting thin though."
"Noted." Ace picked his way carefully between the Gargoyle and the building to its left, flipping on his external speakers. "Your tank is crippled and unable to fight," he declared. "It, and you, are isorla to Clan Diamond Shark - prisoners worthy to be considered to join our ranks. Dismount and surrender yourselves - we will provide medical treatment as needed and permit seppuku if you find the bond unbearable."
After a moment, hatches opened and the crew of the tank slowly climbed out of it.
A sense of deja vu settled over Ace as he saw the frustration and anger on their faces. They'd risked their lives just to cause some harm to the invaders of their home enclave, it must have seemed to have been futile now that they had failed to do more than batter the armor of one omnimech.
It wasn't until they were all out that Ace was able to pin down what he was being reminded of.
Castrum Keep. He'd been ordered not to discuss his origins, and to fit in among the Diamond Sharks he had tried not to discuss the dark caste settlement he had been born in even before that. Truthfully, the press of duties as a Star Captain and Star Colonel had left him little time to reminisce.
But now the expressions he saw reminded him of those defending the fortified town from the Clan Diamond Shark. The scale was larger, but the mismatch in fighting power was much the same - and so was the fighting spirit.
A chill went down Ace's back. If I am the Blake Hawker here, might there be an Ace waiting among those here? I should keep my guard up!
As if to cement the wisdom of that idea, the missile alert sprang up on his cockpit and he heard the anti-missile systems spin up and chatter as they automatically hurled flechettes into the path of incoming missiles.
The five Omnimechs all whirled, looking for the sources of the attacks. Ace saw missiles explode short of his Stormcrow and was distantly conscious that the firebursts were dripping burning fluids onto the street - inferno SRMs that would have bathed his 'mech in napalm and raised its heat sharply, limiting his ability to use the two PPCs.
The contrails left by the missiles led back to a towering apartment block. Ace focused in on the enclosed balconies being used as firing platforms. A second salvo of missiles lashed out, but they were no more successful than the last.
Then the entire row of balconies disappeared in smoke and dust as Norman raked them with his autocannons - obliterating the missile launchers, their crews and the apartments behind them. Ace hoped that the inhabitants had not also been with them.
A shot from Michel's Warhawk drew Ace's attention and he saw that the tank crew had been cut in half - in that two of the four captives had been pulverized as they tried to flee under the cover of the attack. The explosive rounds from the autocannon were far in excess of what was required but Michel was not equipped for anti-infantry work. Overkill was what he had.
"I see no further hostiles," Quinn reported. "But I did not see those missile teams until they fired."
"Aff." Ace agreed. "We should be on our guard. And we will need more machine guns and small pulse lasers fitted to our omnimechs for this sort of situation."
Without his own anti-missile systems, Norman's 'mech had taken more damage from the attack than Ace. Fire dripped down the front of the eighty-ton Gargoyle as he moved back into position.
"Norman, stay here and guard the tank and crew until a pick-up team arrives," Ace instructed. "Then get your 'mech repaired. We do not want to lose it or you through needless risks, quiaff?"
"Aff. I will ask the techs about exchanging one of my missile launchers for anti-infantry work," the older warrior agreed.
"What use will that wreck of a tank be?" asked Michel.
"The factories here may not build combat vehicles," Ace told him, "But they will be able to repair them, I am sure. And if we capture enough of them then they can be used by whatever garrison we leave here. We cannot peel off a binary of 'mechs for every planet." The touman was already spread thin and a binary was barely enough to keep local police and militia honest. It would be far from enough if the DCMS mounted a serious counterattack.
We have little margin for error, Ace noted to himself. The worlds we are taking are held as much by fear of us as by force of arms. If we suffer serious setbacks, that fear will fade. "And Norman, see that the bondsmen are cared for. We will need them and those like them as much - neg, more than - we need the tank."
He had heard that the Khan of the Wolves used a spheroid bondsman as an advisor when it came to dealing with conquered worlds. It was a good idea, and one did not need to fight a trial of possession for ideas. The Diamond Sharks would need an army of such intermediaries to govern their growing slice of the Inner Sphere.
Ace thought again of Blake Hawker, the warrior who had brought him into the Diamond Sharks. He had barely met the man - fought him twice in fact. But he had respected his integrity and regretted the man's death. Ian Hawker hated the idea of bringing me into the Clan, to the point he drove Blake to his death. How will he manage bringing hundreds or thousands of spheroid bondsman back to warrior status, even if it is only for garrison work?
The young Star Colonel suspected he knew the answer already.
Great Gash, Twycross
Clan Jade Falcon Occupation Zone
12 September 3050
Dawn came late that day on Twycross, the second day of the counterattack. It found Victor in the cockpit of his grandmother's Warhammer, breakfasting on a field ration that had been developed with more of a focus on being able to keep it stored for a long time in the confines of a 'mech cockpit than taste. While the sausage patty sealed away wasn't past its expiry date, the beast that died to provide the meat must have done so before Victor's birth. The less said about the rehydrated egg the better, not even the sauce provided for taste could cover the texture - or rather, the lack of any.
Victor had slept in the cockpit - other than using the open hatch for some pull-ups to get his blood flowing, he hadn't left it since they landed the previous day. The landing had gone well - the only challenge had been a number of aerospace fighters attempting an interception as the dropships entered the atmosphere. With close to a hundred AFFC and mercenary aerospace fighters screening them, only one dropship had even taken a hit and that had been nothing of any note.
The young Hauptmann was just considering where he might be able to get his company some fresh food when his comm bleeped to indicate someone was contacting him. He swallowed his current mouthful and tapped the accept key. "Hauptmann Steiner-Davion."
"Leutnant Pederson," a woman's voice identified the caller. "I'm watch officer on the Blockade -" The Union-class dropship that had carried Victor's company to Twycross. "- and we have a standing instruction to let you know once Task Force Striker has departed."
"And I take it that they have?" Victor asked, a little playfully. That was good news though. Adam's one jumpship and two dropships were on their way to Trellwan, hoping to recover surviving elements of the Twelfth Donegal Guards that were - at last report - still holding out against Clan Jade Falcon's garrison.
He hadn't exactly promised to bring back a relief force when he was tossed aboard a dropship to get him out of harm's way, but the matter had been on Victor's mind ever since the counterattack began planning. His cousin, Morgan Hasek-Davion, had warned him that the rescue mission would only be launched if things went well on Twycross, but so far it could hardly have gone more smoothly. At this very moment, the 1st Kathil Uhlans brigade and the 2nd Kell Hounds regiment were chasing down what remained of the Jade Falcon's garrison.
Pederson sounded amused. "Yes sir. The Kwaidan jumped out twenty minutes ago."
"Thank you Leutnant. I'd appreciate it if you can pass on any other updates we receive about the mission."
"That's also in our standing orders, your highness."
The use of his social rank rather than his military one was like a slap on the face, even though Victor was certain that the junior (if likely older) officer didn't mean in that way. Any other Hauptmann would have very limited access to such information, certainly not get standing orders put through to keep them updated. "Thank you," he said quietly. "Steiner-Davion out."
As tempting as it was to dispose of the rest of his breakfast, Victor chewed through it methodically. He might need the calories later in the day, however unlikely it was. After being in reserve the previous day, the RCT was currently assigned to oversee the dismantling of the Trellshire Heavy Industries factory, securing the engineers and heavy trucks doing the work - as well as the task force's dropships. The Gray Death Legion were doing much the same, a short distance away, as intelligence teams went through the Jade Falcon's garrison base with a fine-toothed comb.
With the last of his meal inside of him, Victor washed it down with his coffee and packed the debris of breakfast away. "Lance sound off," he ordered on the appropriate channel.
"Red two, active." Rudi replied from the Thunderbolt to Victor's right.
"Same, Red Three." Matti's Thunderbolt was back-to-back with Victor's Warhammer.
"Ah, Red Four… just warming up,"
Victor glanced sideways, not quite able to see Juniper's Rifleman to his left. The oldest of the lance, she was also the only holdover from the old Tenth Lyran Guards. Both Rudi and Matti were survivors of the Seventeenth Skye Rangers. He'd rarely seen them away from each other, and suspected they had a quiet relationship going on. Since neither was in the other's chain of command, Victor had left it alone for now - but if Rudi got a lance (and he thought the sergeant was a good prospect for promotion) then it'd be a factor. "Forty-five minutes before we head out to relieve the picket lance," he reminded them. "If you need anything here - or want to get out of your 'mech for a few minutes, get it done."
"Yes sir." The crisp reply from Matti was followed by a quieter acknowledgement from Juniper.
Rudi would no doubt have added his own confirmation but he was cut off as Victor's comms were overridden by a unit wide alert. "Stand to! I repeat, stand to! Hostile forces spotted!"
Slamming one hand on the reactor activation controls, Victor buckled up and quickly started applying the medical sensors he'd peeled off before he went to sleep. "You heard the man, up and at 'em. Red Nine, status report?"
"Powering up and ready to go in two minutes." Leutnant Bear Havel sounded as calm as ever. His scout lance had been in the same ready status as Victor's command group.
"Good man." Victor pulled on his neurohelmet as weapons and sensors came online. "Red Five, do you read me?"
The final lance of his company - Kai Allard-Liao's - had drawn the short straw and were standing watch inside the mouth of the Great Gash at the moment. The network of canyons were one of the few routes through the mountains, which made them an excellent defensive position for the factory and by extension for the dropships. As a result, the bulk of the Lyran Guards were posted on the far side of the defensive perimeter covering more accessible routes for any attack to take.
"I read you, Red Leader." Kai's voice was calmer than Victor had expected - almost the calmest he'd ever heard his tightly-wound friend. "We're moving to blocking positions."
"Block… Kai, are you saying the enemy is in the Gash?!"
"Red Leader," Kommandant Galen Cox's voice cut in. "Jade Falcons are reported as moving into your sector."
"Yes sir." Kai confirmed. "Observation Posts report at least company strength of 'mechs. We'll try and buy you some time."
Victor reflexively made sure both his subordinate and commander could hear him. "Confirmed Red Five, at least company strength of hostiles inside the Great Gash. I'll get everything available to the mouth. Don't try to be a hero."
"Understood sir."
"No heroics from you either, Red Leader." Cox was all business, far from his usual good humor. "Hold the exit if you can but do not get sucked into the Gash. I'm bringing the reserves over, but if you get drawn into that maze it'll be hell to link up."
Did Galen think Victor was some first year cadet? "Orders understood sir. We're the cork, not the corkscrew."
"Glad we're on the same page," the Kommandant said a little more warmly.
Victor opened the throttle, the desert camouflaged Warhammer swinging smoothly into action. "Red company, form on me. Vortex Leader, Clockwork Leader, I don't know if you've been informed but we have hostiles in the Gash. Move up to secure the mouth. We're not going in until reinforcements reach us but we need it bottled up."
Engrossed in crossing the relatively short distance, as well as coordinating with the tanks and infantry forces available, Victor barely noticed the moments ticking by. He'd just ordered Rudi and Matti to help create fighting positions for the infantry (sixty-five ton Battlemechs could move or break up boulders in ways impossible for footsoldiers) when Kai pinged him.
"I read you, Red Five." He looked at the jagged mouth of the canyon.
"Red Leader, we have a full cluster coming at us." Kai's words were clipped, quick and clear. "The observation posts are dropping out of contact. At least forty omnimechs and I assume they have elementals with them."
Victor glanced up at the sky. Clouds were forming up above, making it unlikely that air cover would be a factor for either side. Honestly, the tight and twisty canyons of the Great Gash would make air to ground chancy anyway. "Kai, get your force out of there."
The other young officer didn't pause. "We're too slow. Their leading elements would catch us before we reach your position. My lance will scatter, try to draw some of them off chasing us. It might buy you some time."
Opening his mouth to deny it, Victor paused and then shook his head. "I said no heroics, dammit." Kai's Centurion was no faster than his own Warhammer. Only the one Wolverine in Kai's lance would be able to keep pace with most Clan heavy 'mechs, and even that wouldn't be able to stay ahead of their faster medium and light 'mechs. "Hide if you can. As long as you're still there, they have to watch their backs."
There was a stark honesty to the reply he got. "I'll do what I can."
Galen replied immediately when Victor pinged him. "Situation report?"
"We're forting up," he replied. "Numbers are worse than we thought - it looks like an entire Cluster."
"Our fighters should be overhead any minute, but it looks like they'll have opposition," the Kommandant informed him. "I'll be with you in fifteen minutes and you have immediate priority for artillery."
"Not trying to drag me out of this?" Victor asked wryly.
Galen snorted. "Maybe if I was right with you. Just try not to die until reinforcements arrive. God willing, that'll be before the Falcons do."
An explosion echoed through the Gash. Victor looked up and saw smoke begin to billow up from between some of the steep mountainsides. It wasn't all that near, which said nasty things about how large the explosion was. Dust was rising, which suggested some of the less stable side canyons had taken the blast and responded poorly.
"What was that?" Galen exclaimed, having apparently picked up on the sound through Victor's microphone.
"One of Red Five's lance, I think. I need to talk to artillery."
The mouth of the canyon opened out into a slope - the long ago river that had carved its way through the mountains had drained out of here into some lake or sea long lost to the vagaries of geology. It meant that anyone coming out would have the high ground.
On the other hand, many boulders had been bowled down the slope all those millenia ago, many of them still in evidence for cover. Victor positioned himself to the side of one that would leave him at middling range from the mouth, Juniper parking herself on the other side of it. Tanks and personnel carriers dug themselves in as best they could.
Seismics picked up massive movement. Contrails marked the sky where fighters dueled, more often than not lost in the clouds above, themselves thickened by dust from the earlier explosion.
When Jade Falcons emerged, it was almost a relief. Though not as much as the arrival of Galen would have been.
The first shots fired were from Rommel and Patton tanks of Vortex Company, but Victor added his PPCs to the fusillade that streaked up at the first Hellbringer to emerge. The heavy omnimech blew up almost immediately as dozens of shots tore into it, but the next shapes to emerge were not alone - three more omnimechs and they dropped elementals before they came under fire in turn.
Victor was stagger firing his PPCs, watching his heat gauge almost as much as he was his targeting reticle. It was climbing, but much more slowly than he had anticipated. His first shot struck a Kit Fox that had been in the second group of arrivals. His second missed and then the third bolt of charged particles bit deeply into the light 'mech.
More Jade Falcons were emerging, Victor saw manpack LRMs being fired from fox holes into the Kit Fox and shifted slightly, bringing the PPCs to bear on the spindly shape of a Mad Dog. He fired one and then the other, scoring with both.
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the Kit Fox rushing forwards towards the infantry positions but he was more focused on the Mad Dog, turning side on against the boulder of his cover as both the omnimech's large missile launchers vomited LRMs down the hill towards him.
The impacts shook the seventy-ton Warhammer but he stayed upright. The searchlight on the shoulder shattered and armor status flared through yellow and orange, but a lot of the missiles must have wasted themselves against the stone.
Then the Kit Fox's charge faltered as explosions tore through its feet and ankles. The little 'mech stumbled and fell, caught in the artillery-deployed minefield Victor had ordered delivered as soon as he was given the option. It was thinner than he'd like - they didn't have many Thunder munitions and he'd used all of them - but it was one more thing for the Jade Falcons to worry about.
A Summoner was bounding down the slope on its jump jets. Victor left the Kit Fox to a Rommel that opened up with its heavy autocannon before the thirty-ton 'mech could stand again, and fired both PPCs he had into the Jade Falcon heavy 'mech.
Apparently undaunted, the enemy 'mech returned fire, its own PPC catching the Warhammer squarely in the chest. Then it followed the hit up with cluster munitions from the autocannon that rattled Victor and sent him staggering back. If it wasn't for the boulder then he might have fallen.
Victor triggered everything that could reach the Summoner, adding medium lasers and SRMs to the PPCs as the enemy 'mech came into range of them. LRMs slammed into him, throwing Victor against his restraints.
Then the Summoner was rocked by more fire - Matti and Rudi's Thunderbolts opening up from the flank. They looked rather similar to the Clan design, though lacking the terrifying firepower. Still, there were two of them and Victor was firing as well.
Finally, painfully, the Summoner fell. Rudi's large laser severed the myomers above the right knee, dropping it to the ground right before Matti's LRMs broke open the cockpit canopy.
"Punching out!" Juniper cried out and Victor could feel the impact as her Rifleman disintegrated on the other side of the boulder.
Victor ducked fully behind the stone bulwark, looking for what had taken out Red Four as he let the Warhammer cool. It wasn't dangerous yet, but it was about to edge into the orange part of the heat scale, impacting his systems.
What he found was a tiny OmniMech and four Elementals - presumably one of the Point hadn't managed to get this far. The Elementals all leapt upon him as the next obvious target, while the Fire Moth darted away - twisting around to bring its lasers to bear.
Backstepping, Victor fired all his secondary armament and enough of the weapons bit into one of the Elementals that the armored infantryman was torn apart. That still left three of them to get hold of his Warhammer and start tearing into the armor with their battle claws, finding weaknesses.
Small arms fire from two nearby squads of infantry bounced off his armor and that of the Clan warriors almost equally ineffectually, as did machine gun fire from Matti's Thunderbolt as the former Skye Ranger made the correct decision that the chances of damaging Victor's Warhammer with the weapons was less important than getting rid of the Elementals.
Rudi attended to the Fire Moth, who had apparently not realized that there were two Thunderbolts and ran almost directly into him. The Lyran closed one of the Thunderbolt's battle fists around one of the light Omnimech's arms and brought it to an almost dead halt. Victor saw lasers flay open the Fire Moth's chest as it returned the favor with its own more powerful lasers.
Then Rudi slammed his other battlefist into the Fire Moth's chest, something that it seemed to have no reply to.
In the meantime, Victor had flailed away at the Elementals with the long-barrelled Donal PPCs in the arms of his Warhammer. One of them got knocked away, but the limbs of his 'mech weren't designed for this sort of action. "Use your lasers!" he ordered.
"I might burn through your armor," Matti warned, but she fired the battery of three medium lasers in the Thunderbolt's chest, cutting one of the remaining Elementals in two. Then she found the one Victor had knocked away climbing up the back of her 'mech. "Shit, Rudi! Help!"
Victor flung his Warhammer flat, trying to crush the Elemental below him. Unfortunately, the Jade Falcon flared his jump jets, skidding out from under the belly flop. Almost immediately, the Elemental rushed back, this time going for the cockpit.
It didn't make it. A salvo of autocannon fire tore the tiny menace apart. A few seconds later, the Elemental climbing onto Matti's Thunderbolt was smashed aside as Galen Cox's Hatchetman arrived.
Behind him, Blue Company and Gold Company tore into the surviving Jade Falcons. The number of 'mechs was about even - twenty or so on both sides, but the Lyrans were fresh and behind them came a mixed array of hovertanks racing up the slope with all guns blazing.
It was suicidally dangerous - the Jade Falcons still had the firepower to wreck a hover tank with a single hit. But for every one that died, another seemed to take its place. And 'mechs were dropping on both sides.
Victor brought his Warhammer upright and brought the twin PPCs back to bear. The one in the right arm wasn't charging as fast as it should - perhaps the result of damage, but that was just making it easier for his cooling.
For a moment, the battle seemed to hang in the balance, but then - perhaps at some signal from their commander - the Jade Falcons that remained began to back up into the Gash.
"Hold position," Victor ordered. "Don't follow them in yet - we need to sweep the area for the mines we laid. And there could be Elementals waiting."
"We'll need to pursue," Galen agreed. "But not just yet. There could be ambushes or even a suicide rearguard in the Gash." He fired his autocannon up into a towering Warhawk that seemed to ignore the cluster munitions as it retreated, pouring shot after shot from its PPCs into a Rommel that couldn't take the pounding and was reduced to a pyre by the fire. "All we need to do to win now is hold this ground."
A hammer blow smashed into the missile launcher on the shoulder of the Warhammer. The impact sent Victor staggering as the gyro fought to keep him upright.
"Rotate your company to the back," ordered Galen. "You need to take stock of your condition."
"I'm down a full lance already," Victor said bleakly. Plus Juniper's Rifleman and however many of Havel's light 'mechs hadn't made it out.
"Maybe not. We have survival beacons from three of the lance that was up there," Galen offered. "I told them to sit tight and stay hidden until we can sweep the Great Gash and give them an all clear. And before you ask, Leutnant Allard-Liao's one of the ones with a beacon." The Hatchetman stepped forwards, firing its autocannon again. "And I think we may have enough salvage here to replace his 'mech."
-
Canube, Pesht
Clan Diamond Shark Occupation Zone
24 September 3050
Canube also brought back memories for Ace. Not of Castrum Keep, but of something else. Something less familiar but that had made an impression on him. “Michel, what does this remind you of?”
His bondsman, now a warrior again among the Diamond Sharks, hesitated. “The place you captured me. The ruined enclave… I do not know its name.”
Ace glanced at another damaged building as he led the Twenty-First Assault Cluster past it, down one of the long wide avenues that curved across the city. “Aff. Though it was never an enclave.” He had looked it up afterwards. “It was an urban training site, somewhere warriors went to hone the skills of fighting within towns and cities. Before the Clans returned to the Pentagon, our ancestors used it to prepare.”
“It was a terrible battlefield.” The Warhawk behind him swayed slightly as it marched. Damage from the long march from Motor City, legacy of shots striking the assault ‘mechs hips. The technicians had done their best but it would take time and resources to repair. “I do not say your victory was undeserved, but fighting under those circumstances leans as much on luck as a warrior’s skill.”
Julian snorted from his own cockpit, further back in the column. “Not to say the Star Colonel’s victory was undeserved, you say.”
“One on one, I might mistake it for that,” Michel answered, voice irritated. “Four victories in succession, and what might have been five if it were not for accumulated damage? That is not luck.”
Ace saw what was left of a DCMS battlemech - a Dragon locked in place, everything above the waist blackened, penetrated or both. Curiously, the legs were almost unscathed. From intelligence reports, he could even identify its markings as those of the Fifth Galedon Regulars - the regiment that had escaped Jeronimo and retreated here to make their stand. It hadn’t been salvaged yet. It would take time before the city could be fully policed for all the remaining equipment.
“My point,” he advised his officers, “Is that the Founder trained his warriors for this battlefield before Operation Klondike. But we did not undertake such training before Operation Revival.”
“Khan Hawker appears to have managed with out it,” Julian noted. “After all, he won.”
The announcement that Canube had fallen and that Ian Hawker had personally killed Warlord Teyasu Ashora reached them the day before. It was no surprise that the Khan had pushed the pace rather than wait for the other three Clusters of Alpha Galaxy to converge, but to take it that far?
There were four regiments of DCMS battlemechs on Pesht - perhaps three and a half given the condition of the Fifth Galedon Regulars - and at least three times that in combat vehicles. As for infantry, five to ten times as many depending on where you drew the line between combat-worthy troops and militia whose state was an embarrassment. Until the Clans arrived, Pesht had been many jumps away from any threat and the defenses had stagnated.
There would be no difficulty finding officers who had achieved a Deathstrike Award in the near future. Clash after clash had given the Twenty-First Assault Cluster every chance to smash through three or four times their own number of secondline forces.
Perhaps half of the DCMS ‘mechs had been fought outside of Canube, but that was still over two hundred of them defeated here and the Alpha Galaxy Command Cluster - the Diamond Skate - had only sixty. On average, every single mechwarrior in their ranks would have defeated three times their number, although the tonnage measure would be harder to judge.
At last they reached the core of the city. A broad plaza large enough for entire regiments to parade stood before a curiously primitive structure. A fortress in an ancient style, presumably the Japanese mode that House Kurita was so fond of.
Three supernovas were waiting for them - ‘mechs and elementals on parade. Ace had brought the same number with him - fifteen omnimechs and seventy-five elementals. The rest of the Cluster was waiting outside the city, which was presumably the same for the Thirty-Ninth Strike Cluster and Nineteenth Heavy Cluster.
Ace corrected himself as he closed in. It was nineteen omnimechs in one group, and they were in poor repair. The Elementals were more than eighty strong, and this was Ian Hawker’s forces - the representatives of the Diamondskate cluster… weren’t they?
Piloting with one hand, Ace brought up the Diamondskate’s full strength. It wasn’t his imagination - the ‘mechs standing there were not complete Stars. Not even depleted Stars - more a random assortment of omnimechs from all across the unit. Was this a DCMS trap, something to draw them in?
No, that made no sense. The other Star Colonels knew Ian Hawker and his key officers. They wouldn’t mistake someone else for them. Perhaps these were warriors to be honored?
The state of the Diamondskate Omnimechs and the Elementals was a sorry one. Unrepaired damage, scarred armor and missing weapons - even limbs. Clearly even less time had been available for them to make good their damage… perhaps the most easily repaired equipment was already being worked on?
Ace dismounted, strapping his swords on, and the warriors from the Twenty-First Assault Cluster walked towards the gatehouse where Ian Hawker stood below the banner of Clan Diamond Shark, flying where once the dragon of House Kurita had marked Pesht’s masters. A handful of aerospace fighter pilots - distinctively shorter than even mechwarriors - stood behind the Khan.
The other warriors were already there - those of the Twenty-Seventh and the Thirty-Ninth Clusters stood together, the Diamondskate somewhat apart. Ace scanned the groups and saw that he was not the only one uneasy. Few among the Khan’s unit met his gaze and those who did seemed defiant, as if they saw his look as one of judgment.
“Pesht is ours,” Ian Hawker declared. “The first of the key worlds of the Draconis Combine has fallen. All according to your plan, Star Colonel.”
“Not entirely,” Ace noted drily. “No plan survives contact with the enemy, of course.”
Hawker smiled thinly. “A shark must never hesitate to seize victory when it presents itself.”
“A shark must keep swimming or it will starve.” Ace wasn’t entirely sure that was true, but it was something of an aphorism among the Clan. A reminder that none of the Clan should rest on their laurels, they should always be looking to advance themselves and their Clan. If you weren’t moving forwards, you were failing. “It’s wise to have an eye on the next target as well as the one before us.”
The Khan gave him a slightly sour look but then laughed. “Never satisfied. You are a true Diamond Shark. I doubted you once, but no more.”
Ace froze.
“Come.” Apparently not noticing, Hawker waved towards the gathered warriors. “We shall gather where once the generals of House Kurita did and we will compose verses to be submitted for addition to the Remembrance. This is a deed that deserves mention in our great history.”
“Surely every warrior who participated in your victory should give their account,” Ace offered, hoping that the Khan would dispel the suspicion that had been creeping up on him.
“We’re all here,” a Star Commander behind Ian Hawker grated.
There was an intake of breath from the warriors in the other group. Clearly Ace wasn’t the only one who had suspected that, just the first to voice it.
“You could have waited a day,” he said quietly. “Colonel Clarke and Colonel Arlond’s Clusters would have been here. Two days and my own Cluster as well. We have the Terror of the Deep in orbit, they couldn’t escape. They were going nowhere.” Ace’s voice was rising as he spoke faster and faster, the anger breaking loose. “The Remembrance will say that Ian Hawker gutted a quarter of Alpha Galaxy because he was impatient!”
There was a distinct lack of disagreement from Jay Arlond, Rachel Clarke or anyone behind them. For that matter, the surviving Diamondskate were not exactly jumping to their commander’s defense.
“Are you,” Ian Hawker said deliberately, “Challenging my leadership?”
Ace met his eyes. “Aff.”
The older Diamond Shark took a deep breath. Let it out. “I accept. Given the state of my Dire Wolf, we will fight with the weapons we have.” He patted the sidearm strapped to his belt.
So I’m in a gunfight, while I have swords. Better than barehanded I suppose. Ace glanced around and then indicated an expanse of archaic, single-story buildings to the side of the castle. A complex mix of gardens and courtyards didn’t quite separate them, walkways linking the verandas. A low wall surrounded them, and someone had clearly marched a BattleMech through them at some point in the fight, judging by the damage. “Then let that serve as our Circle of Equals.”
Hawker nodded sharply. “So be it.”
Ace indicated the formal gate. “I will enter through that. You use the breach in the wall on the far side.”
“That is acceptable,” Jay Arlond declared. “I will serve as the oathmaster. Does anyone challenge this rede?”
No one spoke against the Star Colonel of the Nineteenth Heavy Cluster putting himself forwards and warriors formed up around the two combatants, carefully keeping them apart. Under Arlond’s supervision, each was checked for other weapons. They handed over their formal jackets, leaving each them to fight in shirt, boots and pants.
Hawker pulled the magazine from his sidearm and pointedly counted the rounds. “I have thirteen rounds,” he declared. “No spare magazine.”
In turn, Ace drew both swords and let the Star Colonel examine them, then accepted them back, sheathing them and adjusting the fit of the straps that held them across his back.
More warriors had spread out to watch the wall around what seemed to be some kind of palace now that Ace looked at it more closely. “If either of you crosses the wall before the trial is done, you will be judged defeated. I would hope the consequence is obvious.”
If Ace lost he would surely lose his command and probably his life. As for Ian Hawker… defeat here was a disgrace that perhaps his pride would not allow him to live with.
So neither would walk away. Most likely one of them would kill the other. After years of letting his old anger at Ian Hawker fade, blurred by working together on Operation Revival, Ace found the fury blazing up inside him
“Ear buds.” Arlond produced a pair. “I’ll give instructions through these and they will let the winner tell us when the trial is over.” It would also let them talk to each other.
Ace saluted solemnly before walking to the gate, putting the earbud in place.
“Do you think you can take him?” Julian asked from among his escort.
All he could offer in response was a shrug. “You never know until you try.”
Michel glanced back. “If you can draw him into expending his bullets, his advantage will be gone. Thirteen rounds is not that many.”
“For that reason he will be cautious,” warned Howard. “Hawker is a fine shot. He has won trials under these circumstances before.”
“I will have to play it by ear,” Ace decided. “At least I’m not facing him with a gun, I passed sidearm training in the sibko but that is about it.”
It seemed that almost no time at all passed before Star Colonel Arlond’s voice came through the ear bud. “Challenger and challenged are to enter the circle now. Let battle decide this matter. Seyla.”
“Seyla,” they all chorused and Ace stepped through the gateway, boots crunching on the gravel of the entrance yard until he reached the steps up onto the elevated walkways that surrounded each building. Trying the door, he found that it was a sliding panel and lighter than he expected. It took him two tries to grasp how to best shift it but once he did so, it slid smoothly aside with barely a whisper.
The inside was a single room, folding screens dividing it in two. Ace crossed the room and found another sliding door on the other side. Opening it revealed another walkway, circling a grassy lawn. He shook his head. If it was all this open, he might have more problems than he had expected. Narrow interior corridors might give him a chance to get close without being spotted but this would be different.
Stepping out, he reached up to try to grab the edge of the roof and pull himself up - perhaps Hawker wouldn’t expect him to come at him from above? The tile came away noisily in his hands.
So much for that idea.
Ace drew the longer of his swords, holding it in one hand as he walked around the edge of the grass. Even the walls of the buildings were light panels framing the spaces between wooden pillars. When he rested one hand on a panel it actually bent slightly under the pressure. Plastic? No… some sort of thick paper, supported by a light framework that he thought might be wood.
He shook his head. What a strange choice of building material. It might be a tradition, but if so what was the original idea behind it. It must have made sense at one time.
Still, he wasn’t here to study the architecture. Ace trotted deeper into the complex, noting that his booted feet were drumming against the polished wood of the floor. Stopping in the next room he unlaced his boots and pulled them off.
“Where are you, freebirth?” Ian Hawker’s voice came through the ear bud. “Did you challenge me just to hide like a Burrock?”
Ace frowned. He was only hearing the Khan through the ear bud, they couldn’t be that close to each other. “As long as you are in here with me, you are not wasting our strength to pander to your ego. There is a kitchen - we could be stalking each other until the food runs out.”
He was guessing about a kitchen, but it made sense. And if Hawker thought that was where he’d been then it might mislead the Khan.
“I will not need that much time to kill you,” the older man growled. “It is too bad. You were proving useful.”
“Did you ever regret sending Blake Hawker to kill me?”
“Is that what this was about?”
Ace slid another door open a crack, peeked out, and once he thought it was clear he crossed into another room. This one seemed to have an interior door but when he slid that one open it proved only to be a closet. This building was split in two by a central wall made up of them with no obvious way through. “It seemed a bit personal.”
“Everyone is expendable for the good of the Clan. I knew you would be a disruptive element.” Hawker’s voice was smooth as he gave his justification.
“A shark must keep swimming,” Ace said again, crossing to the other wall. “Is that not the way?”
“Freebirths are inferior as warriors. Few can reach the standards we need,” the Khan told him. “It is better the idea is consigned to the records and our ranks are filled entirely with trueborn warriors.”
“If I am so inferior, then how did I rise so far and so fast?” He opened the door carefully, checked the gravel quadrant behind and stepped out onto the walkway.
Hawker laughed shortly. “Your trueborn heritage gave you a shot and I admit, you are a good shot with PPCs. But with missiles. Or a gun?”
There was a click ahead and Ace froze, pressing himself against the wall. He pulled the ear bud out.
“I know what your sibko scores were like,” the Khan continued. “Sooner or later someone was always going to get you into an unaugmented trial and then this was going to happen.”
Ace could hear Hawker’s voice even without the ear bud. The man was close.
Backing into the room he’d just left, Ace put the ear bud back in as he crossed the room and carefully slid open the door onto the walkway on the other side of the building.
“Did that strike a nerve?” Hawker asked loudly. Ace could hear the man’s boots now, he was in the other half of this building. “Your clever mouth is rarely this silent.”
Barely touching the door panel, keeping himself mostly behind the shelter of one of the supporting pillars, Ace opened the door a crack and peeked through, just in time to see Ian exit the other side of the building. He turned left, moving towards where Ace had been before.
Ace slid the door open the rest of the way and crossed the room, walking on the balls of his feet. Ahead of him, he could see the silhouette of Ian Hawker sidling down the walkway, gun raised ahead of him in both hands.
His heart beating so hard, he thought that Hawker might hear it, Ace raised his sword in both hands. Was it sharp enough? He’d tried sharpening it a couple of times but wasn’t quite sure he was doing it right. He really should have just asked someone.
No, there was no time for doubts.
“The best thing you can do for the Clan is die before you give others the ideas of imita-”
Ace brought the sword down with both hands, the blade slicing through the paper wall panel, including the thin wooden framework, and slashing down on Ian Hawker’s wrists. The Khan’s pontificating was cut off with a scream and the gun fell from his hands.
Blood spurted from one half-severed wrist, staining the paper wall as Hawker turned to face the wall.
“Your excuses are like this wall,” Ace spat, dragging the sword back through it.
“I will - !”
Then Ace thrust. The curved blade punched into Ian Hawker’s chest, just to the left of his breastbone.
“Paper-thin,” Ace finished as the Khan of Clan Diamond Shark stared down at the rippling steel piercing his heart.
-
Bada-boom!
-
The names of Victor's lancemates seem familiar, lol. Would there be a Norman or Sandra appearing?
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The names of Victor's lancemates seem familiar, lol. Would there be a Norman or Sandra appearing?
Probably with the Jade Falcons.
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Well! Ace certainly DID pull something out of the mess! 8)
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The names of Victor's lancemates seem familiar, lol. Would there be a Norman or Sandra appearing?
Matti's parents are retired on Summer. Norman is known for occasional mutterings about the good old days when Aldo Lestrade was around, Sandra is an influential patron of artists. ;)
More seriously, if I need a quick name I usually just look at my bookshelves for one. There isn't necessarily any deeper meaning.
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Nicely done, Ace.
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Great chapter. Loved the architecture of the battlefield.
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Opalescent Reflections
House of Cards
Chapter 2
CWS Dire Wolf, Tamar
Clan Wolf Occupation Zone
5 October 3050
Fighting was ongoing on the world below, Clan Wolf’s warriors spurred on to complete the conquest of one of the Lyran Commonwealth’s founding worlds by Clan Diamond Shark’s victory on Pesht.
Ulric Kerensky, Khan of those same Wolves, had no doubts of the outcome - only of the cost it would come with. Garth Radick and Conal Ward had been allowed to win the bidding for the the Crusader-heavy Delta Galaxy to take those losses, but they were unlikely to be as severe as those that had led to Ian Hawker’s downfall.
Clan Wolf’s flagship was far enough away from Tamar to make it clear that there was no intention of repeating Lincoln Osis’ murderous bombardment of the Rasalhague capital. Radick had returned from blooding himself against the AFFC to join Ulric in attending the next Grand Council meeting and they sat next to each other in one of the officer’s lounges.
Projectors overlaid the small lounge with the image of a larger and grander chamber, a recreation of the Council Chamber back on Strana Mechty. In ones and twos, other Khans appeared behind the stepped desks normal for their Clans. The loremaster’s position was taken by a Jade Falcon Star Colonel bearing the marks of many cybernetic replacements for battlefield injuries.
“Kael Pershaw,” muttered Radick. “I thought he’d retired to Solahma status.”
“At least he is no longer commanding one of their Galaxies. The man was sharp,” Ulric allowed in a similarly low tone. “Or worse, he would have made a formidable Khan.”
“Never happen.” The junior khan shook his head. “You know how stuffy the Falcons are, and he was involved in that Pryde bloodname scandal a decade or so back.”
Ulric nodded and looked over at the other two Jade Falcons present. Timur Malthus looked subdued, as well he might, and Elias Crichell was more interested in studying a datapad than his fellow Khans. Not exactly typical of either. “Speaking of scandals.”
Radick grinned briefly. “We almost got our shot at the Gyrfalcon Guards when you insisted on a Trial of Refusal over the invasion. Bidding went against them unexpectedly, or we’d have fought them rather than the Third Falcon Regulars. But having them torn to shreds by spheroids is almost as good.”
“There is no immutable law that says that our own occupation zone might not see similar attacks,” Ulric warned. Then he allowed himself a slight smile right as Timur Malthus was looking in his direction. “But the proud Falcons are always due some humbling.”
Malthus might or might not have heard Ulric, but he surely understood the sentiment and turned away to talk to the Smoke Jaguars in place on the far side of his desk from the Wolves. Kincaid Furey, the new Smoke Jaguar Khan, had been a surprising choice over Edmund Hoyt or the (as usual) ill-tempered looking Sarah Weaver. The man was popular, but easily led. Which might be a selling point, Ulric mused, if his rise had been engineered by…
The ilKhan appeared on his throne and Pershaw tapped a control, triggering the gong that announced the beginning of the session.
“Trothkin, we have made great progress in bringing the Inner Sphere under the guidance of the Clans,” announced Leo Showers. He nodded towards Ulric. “Clan Wolf has almost completed securing Tamar and Clan Diamond Shark may justly boast of their victory on Pesht.”
Eyes went to the Diamond Shark Khans. Elevation to senior position within her Clan did not appear to have changed Barbara Sennet, a good sign as she was far more favorable towards Warden thinking that Hawker had been. The election of Bikwendi Vewas had been as much of a surprise as Kincaid Furey since he was only the commander of a garrison galaxy. On the other hand, Hawker’s death did make him the second-most senior officer available in the Inner Sphere.
Showers allowed a moment for the praise to sink in, before leaning forwards. “But there have also been reverses. And even the smallest victory for our enemies may lead them repeating those strategies. As we advance towards Terra, the exposed flanks of Alpha and Delta corridor will become longer and longer.”
This, of course, should have been obvious to anyone with the barest grasp of geometry, Ulric thought. But Kincaid Furey was looking at Leo Showers with such admiration that he seemed to think this was a revelation from a strategic genius.
Fortunately, the ilKhan continued before Furey could offer verbal praise, sparing Ulric the need to hide his contempt. “The plans for Operation Revival allow for this circumstance, so I am ordering the activation of two reserve Clans to reinforce these corridors.”
And ignoring the fact that your plans allowed for only one reserve Clan, Ulric thought. “How soon can they arrive?” he asked out loud.
Karl Bourjon, the senior Ghost Bear Khan rose to his feet. “It will be several months before our warships and jumpships can complete the trip to the Inner Sphere,” he admitted. “Even with Lithium-Fusion batteries, hot-charging the drives of jumpships that lack such batteries and the use of Diamond Shark charging stations can only do so much. Dropships ferried ahead by Diamond Shark jumpships have reached the staging areas offered by Khan Hawker.”
Barbara Sennet nodded. “It will strain our jumpship support, but we can bring those Galaxies forward in time to participate in the next wave. After that…”
Ulric hissed. That was an outstanding feat of logistics. The Diamond Sharks were talking about supporting seven galaxies in the field until the Ghost Bears caught up. Granted, some of the Ghost Bear dropships would be carrying their own supplies, but moving them alone would be an effort.
“That may be premature,” he pointed out. “It is Clan Jade Falcon who have been struck by counterattacks so far. Perhaps it is they who should receive the aid of Clan Ghost Bears while the Nova Cats come to your support.” The Ghost Bears got along far too well with the Diamond Sharks for his liking, while the merchants of Clan Nova Cat jostled regularly with the Sharks.
Sennet shrugged with apparent indifference. “It is beyond our resources to convey the Ghost Bear touman across three other Invasion Corridors.”
Sevren Leroux cleared his throat. “My own Clan’s ships departed at the same time as Clan Ghost Bears, anticipating that we might be called upon. Without a similar degree of support from jumpship fleets already on the supply lines, at this time it will be months before our warriors first reach the battlefield.”
The ilKhan shook his head. “The late Ian Hawker was first to call for the reserve Clans to be activated and the Ghost Bears have the right to be the first called on. Given the advanced stage of their movement to the Inner Sphere, I see no merit to disrupting those arrangements. They are to continue into Delta Corridor to support Clan Diamond Shark. I will be happy to oversee any bidding for targets between the two Clans, starting in Wave Six.”
“We thank the ilKhan.” Therese DelVillar did not rise to speak. “We have come to a satisfactory arrangement already.”
Showers frowned. “How so?”
“Part of Delta Corridor has been ceded to Clan Ghost Bear, providing them with their own route to Terra adjacent to Gamma Corridor,” Khan Vewas announced. “Our own advance will continue along the outer edge of the corridor.”
“Do you fear to bid for targets?” challenged Kincaid Furey.
Bourjon glared at his Smoke Jaguar counterpart. “Bidding and trials are means by which we settle disagreements. They have no use in and of themselves. Khan Hawker and Khan Sennet provided generously for our participation and there is nothing but honor in fighting alongside them.”
“Enough, enough,” called out Showers, “If the two Clans have come to an agreement then they are free to do as they please.” He looked at Crichell. “Since Clan Nova Cat will require assistance to arrive in a timely fashion, we will need to lean upon your supply lines and Clan Wolf’s.”
“Our own jumpships are fully involved in maintaining our advance,” Ulric said sharply. “If they would have the use of our ships and supply bases, the Nova Cats may of course bid for them.” And waste time and effort fighting for the use of them.
Showers glowered.
“Our Clan has flotillas that were contracted to support Clan Jade Falcon against expected Inner Sphere warships,” Khan McKenna offered. “Since they appear to have none, there is capacity for us to support moving dropships forwards.”
Crichell nodded. “There are also Free Guild jumpships supporting the construction of HPG relays between the Inner Sphere and the Homeworlds. I will have my staff discuss redeploying them to shuttle Clan Nova Cat’s leading elements into the Occupation zone.”
“Shame on you,” Karianna Schmitt hissed from where the Blood Spirits sat at the back of the meeting hall. “Shame on you, Ulric Kerensky, for failing to support your trothkin in their time of need.”
Ulric laughed at her. “Khan Schmitt, surely you must know from your own Clan’s history that when a Clan falters it cannot expect the others to support them. Such weakness is more often cause for calls to absorb them.”
“Are you still sour over losing your Trial of Refusal against the invasion?” asked Furey.
The Wolf Khan shrugged. “I accept the outcome. We will march upon Terra and, by the decree of this council, the first Clan to arrive will have the title of ilClan. What makes you think that Clan Wolf should aid others in achieving that when we can claim it for ourselves. We have taken the lead in the invasion, and suddenly you find some hypocritical reason to claim we should hobble ourselves for your sake?”
“You go too far, Ulric,” warned Sarah Weaver.
“Too far?” Radick snorted. “We are cleaning up resistance on Tamar, a world closer to Terra than any world that has fallen to the Jade Falcons, the Diamond Sharks or the Smoke Jaguars - and this is not even the leading edge of our advance. We have almost hit the targets for Wave Five already.”
More Khans rose to their feet, but it was Sevren Leroux whose voice dominated, and he surprisingly spoke up for Ulric. “As I recall, the Wolves did not ask for their place in the Invasion. Their corridor was pushed on them by certain Khans in this Council. This is a problem of their making, not the Wolves.”
Eyes went to the ilKhan and to Elias Crichell.
“With that said,” Leroux continued: “I intend that my Clan will reach Terra first, Ulric Kerensky.”
“As you should,” he replied. “May the superior Clan win.” Which was Clan Wolf, obviously. But there was no cost to being polite about it.
Hilton Head, North America
Terra, Sol System
11 October 3050
The holo display on Wei’s desk lit up with head and shoulder images of two men. “Colonel. Gunji-no-Kanrei.”
Jaime Wolf saluted her formally. “Primus.” Then he looked off to the side, presumably at the image of Theodore Kurita and nodded courteously.
Theodore returned the nod before looking at Wei. “Primus Wei. I take it you’ve contacted me to be neutral.”
“Scrupulously,” she confirmed with a slight smile. “I have been asked to convey a declaration of war.”
The Kurita arched an eyebrow. “Another war? Who with this time?”
“Clan Ghost Bear,” Jaime informed him. “It appears the Clans have called in reinforcements.”
“Apparently rather formal reinforcements,” Theodore mused. “I know the ilKhan sent a demand for surrender but I don’t recall any other clan sending a specific declaration of war to us.” The leader of the Draconis Combine’s armed forces glanced at a display outside of his field of vision. “I believe you said that Clan Ghost Bear tended to be quite deliberate.”
“It can take a while for them to commit to something, but once they do they’re quite determined,” Jaime agreed.
“I’m sending the full text of the declaration of war,” Wei added. “I assume you don’t plan to ask your father to surrender the Combine and accept their rulership?”
That got a smile from Theodore. “I don’t think that conversation would go well. Still, there’s no harm in sending a polite refusal. Is that all that they ask for? I mean, if they just want free passage to the Federated Commonwealth - or to Terra, then we might have something to negotiate over.”
Wei hid a wince. She wasn’t entirely sure that Theodore was joking about offering free transit of the Combine. It would cause any number of problems for her and be quite a blow to his reputation, but if it preserved the Draconis Combine then she wasn’t entirely sure that he wouldn’t try it. “There is a secondary offer they’ve made. I imagine you’ll want to look it over in detail, but in principle it is quite interesting.”
Theodore arched an eyebrow and fell silent as he checked the document. “A specific treaty spelling out the rules of engagement - banning weapons of mass destruction except in reprisal, avoiding combat in cities… did they lift this out of Ares Conventions.”
“Word for word in some cases,” Wei confirmed. “It seems they’re rather conscious about what happened on Rasalhague.”
“Interesting. Nothing about prisoner exchanges, I see.”
Wolf spoke up again. “They wouldn’t - that’s not how the Clans see taking bondsmen.”
“Yes… they see it as an honor?”
“Barring cases such as granting hegira, most clans would see being given back to their Clan as an insult - it says that they have no worth. There are Clans with differing views - don’t even bother taking bondsmen from Clan Fire Mandrill, for example. It’s never worth it,” the mercenary said, shaking his head. “But the Ghost Bears will see any prisoners as future members of their Clan. Almost like children in their care - and that being the case, they’d not give them up.”
“Interesting.” Kurita considered that. “And how do the Diamond Sharks treat their bondsmen?”
“For the most part, valued assets. Wolfnet says they’re being quite assiduous in trying to convince captured DCMS warriors to willingly serve them.”
Wei nodded. “We have enough presence to see the same thing. They’re not always doing a good job, but they seem to be quite open to the idea of bringing captured soldiers into their service.”
“I have to wonder…” Theodore broke off and shook his head. “It’s not ideal, but the rules of engagement might be something to work with. I take it that agreeing to such terms and then breaking them would not be a good idea.”
Jaime snorted. “Have you ever poked an angry polar bear in the nose?”
“I’ve never run into a polar bear,” the Gunji-no-Kanrei said thoughtfully, “But I doubt it would be a clever idea. So now we have another Clan joining the fray. If they plan on widening the invasion then Luthien will certainly be in their path once they catch up with the other Clans.”
Wei shook her head. “They don’t appear to be doing that. Part of their declaration of war is a challenge for specific worlds they will target first.”
“You know, if I’d told Hanse Davion where I was going to attack, I think I would have lost rather than getting a stalemate,” Theodore observed. “But even if I rush reinforcements to those worlds, it might not be enough to hold them.” He was still reading off to the side and Wei could tell when he found the battle challenges by the way his eyes widened.
Mualang, Yamarovka, Asgard, Tarazed and Port Arthur lay along the rimwards edge of the Rasalhague Rift, several jumps ahead of Clan Diamond Shark or Clan Smoke Jaguar. Their location put them in the path that Clan Diamond Shark was projected to be taking and the latter three were only two jumps away from Luthien.
“It’s possible that the Diamond Sharks are exhausted and that the Ghost Bears are taking up the advance in their place,” Wolf said cautiously. “But I don’t believe the Sharks have taken enough damage to make that likely.”
“You seem very well informed about their progress,” Theodore noted a little sharply. “But you’re right. Taking Pesht wasn’t cheap for them, but they did take it and the losses weren’t at a level that would have halted me. So the most likely explanation is that they’re shifting their advance spinwards, leaving an avenue of approach for the Ghost Bears between themselves and the Smoke Jaguars?”
“That’s my own conclusion,” the mercenary agreed. “Which means that Luthien is a very likely target.”
The younger man rubbed his chin. “No one has successfully attacked Luthien since the First Succession War. Although one of the Primus’ predecessors came very close to doing so over a century ago.”
Wolf shrugged. “That doesn’t confer any security.”
“No, it doesn’t.” The coordinator’s son turned his gaze towards the older man and considered him carefully. “I am aware that you and my father are on… poor terms.”
The mercenary nodded grimly.
“You have also spoken of your commitment to help the Inner Sphere. So far that has been in the form of sharing information and acting as a training opfor, I believe.”
Wolf nodded. “I have regiments working with the AFFC, the FWLM and even the ComGuards right now.”
“I see. And unless the Diamond Sharks attack the Luthien HPG station, I imagine that the ComGuards will not assist in defending Luthien.”
Wei stiffened. “That is our position.” She tried to hide her feelings about that. On the one hand, the Clans were unprovoked invaders and they’d certainly shown only hesitant respect towards ComStar’s neutrality. She couldn’t imagine taking their side. But standing against them… perhaps it was cowardice but the cost of that was something she wasn’t eager to pay. Much the reverse.
Theodore nodded. “If it were only the Federated Commonwealth being attacked, I’d probably be similarly standing aside,” he conceded. “But that is not the case. I believe Hanse Davion sees as clearly as I do that we can’t afford to threaten each other while the Clans are here. We may not be friends but we have a common enemy.”
“Now convince your father of that,” Wolf snorted.
“That’s your job,” the younger man said. “I’m inviting you to join me on Luthien. The… contempt between yourself and my father is well known. If the two of you are willing to stand together, then it will be hard for even the most conservative members of the court to complain about my hiring mercenaries or thinning our border with the FedCom.”
Wolf frowned. “You want me to stick my head right into the mouth of the dragon?”
“You can bring a suitable escort, of course. I’m sure ComStar can at least agree to hire out some of their jumpships to assist in bringing them to Luthien for diplomatic purposes.”
Wei hesitated and looked at Wolf. “I’ll see what we can do.”
“I can see why this helps you,” Wolf said slowly. “But we both know that your father is unlikely to cooperate.”
“I can manage my father,” Theodore said with surprising confidence. “And whatever information you’ve given us, the fact is that nothing will do more to overcome the distrust of having spied on us for decades, than shedding your blood on the frontlines. Hanse Davion isn’t willing to give you that chance, and nor is what’s left of the Free Rasalhague Republic. ComStar might, but right now they’re not a combatant… so this is your chance to show that you have skin in the game, as the saying goes.”
Wolf frowned. “I cannot bring all of the Dragoons. Even if they weren’t committed, at the current rate the Diamond Sharks will reach Luthien before Christmas. It’ll take a command circuit to reach Luthien before they do and even ComStar can’t move that many dropships so far.”
Wei had sent a request to the head of Theta division to see what shipping would be available. “I’ll let you know what we can do.”
“Even a single battalion would count for something. I’ll be bringing everything I can together,” Theodore said quietly. Then he frowned. “Primus, would you be able to arrange a realtime conversation for me with someone else? Assuming that he’s willing, I should probably also invite my cousin to settle his own disputes with my father. It might be their last chance.”
Terra Prime, Apollo
Clan Jade Falcon Occupation Zone
17 October 3050
The arrival of a Galaxy Commander was unexpected this far from the frontlines. Aidan Pryde tried to put on a good show for Vandervahn Chistu but with his forces scattered across several worlds, all he could do was pull one Binary together for a quick parade and assemble civilian caste leaders.
Chistu seemed more interested in the former than the latter, which didn’t surprise Aidan very much. Most of his troops felt the same way. After all his time fighting his way up the ranks, his reward was to spend much of his working day handling paperwork and talking to civilians. One of the books he and Horse had found all those years ago had a phrase that summed it up perfectly: “Be careful what you wish for.”
Once the last of the local leaders had withdrawn from the meeting room, their pledges of support for the new government still echoing in Aidan’s ears, Chistu rested one elbow on the table and looked sideways at Aidan. “How many of them would say the same to the Lyrans if House Steiner retook this world?”
“All of them,” Aidan answered without hesitation.
The Galaxy Commander straightened. “And you have not removed them?”
“I have removed the ones actively trying to oppose us,” he clarified. “The ones you just met want to keep their own little parts of Apollo going and do not truly care who rules them. As long as the Clan leaves them to it, Apollo will be productive for us and in time we can raise up their replacements to be loyal. It is slower than it would be in a Clan enclave but the principle is the same - we cannot expect any significant number of the populace to prefer us to the Clan that they grew up with, but as long as we suppress those who actively want to rejoin their old Clan, those who just care for the enclave will keep things going. After a while, we become what they are used to.”
“You seem well versed in this.”
Aidan shrugged. “A garrison cluster often deals with such matters after frontline forces have moved on. I have to wait for battles to come to me, while more storied units are allowed to take the initiative, quiaff?”
“Aff,” Chistu conceded. He looked at Aidan for a moment. “Kael Pershaw tells me that you have plenty of initiative.”
He felt his lips begin to form a smirk and forced them straight again. “My reputation precedes me. I would have preferred a more straightforward path but that is not how it turned out.”
The Galaxy Commander nodded in agreement. “Some would say your codex is tainted by the… irregularities in it. And many officers you served under would have preferred that as well. Fortunately, I am not here to take you under my command.”
That was a slight disappointment. Aidan hadn’t thought it was likely Chistu was here to call him to battle, but the chance had been there. Frontline losses were not high but they were adding up overtime and pulling garrison forces forward in their place was a possibility.
Chistu drummed his fingers on the table. “Which of your Star Captains is best suited to take over the Cluster?”
What? “With forces on several worlds, most are carrying that level of responsibility. Ho- Star Captain Tyle is the best of them.”
That got a snort. “The best who is not a freeborn. I am not spending favors to defend promoting a freeborn to Star Colonel, however qualified.”
Well, it had been worth a try. “Mercedes Isha then. She has plenty of experience.” The older mechwarrior disliked him, but she had never let it get in the way of her duties. “If I am being removed from command, I would like to know why.” He wasn’t old enough to be sent off as solahma, but he might be pushed into a staff position that would keep him out of combat, much like Kael Pershaw. That would be a demotion in fact, even if he kept his rank.
“Vau Galaxy has an opening for a Star Colonel. Timur Malthus asked me to recommend someone.”
“Khan Malthus asked the commander of Gamma Galaxy to choose a Star Colonel for Vau?” That made no sense - the galaxies were rivals. Vau’s commander would be free to promote any Star Captain in the Galaxy to the post. “This position… it is no prize, quineg?”
Chistu’s lips parted in a smile. “Neg. It is no prize - but it is an opportunity for frontline action.”
“As a sacrificial unit? Solahma in all but name?”
“Neg.” The galaxy commander continued to smile. “I can assign you to that if you prefer it to Vau.”
“I am not that desperate.” Aidan sat back in his chair. “What posting are you sending me to?”
Chistu sobered, leaning forwards. “The Gyrfalcon Guards were shattered on Twycross. The only defeat we have faced so far. A shame so great that the ilKhan no longer believes we can control our own Occupation Zone without help. The entire unit has been deemed dezgra - half the officers who survived killed the other half in Trials of Grievance, blaming each other for the debacle.”
He frowned. “I see why none of them are being promoted… but officers could be transferred in.”
“You know what it is like to have your codex called into question. Does it surprise you that no officer of suitable experience wants that taint on their own?”
“But since my codex is already tainted…”
“Exactly.” Chistu raised three fingers in turn. “I get to insult Vau by sending them a tainted commander for a tainted unit. If you fail, the Clan loses very little… and yet,” he paused with one finger in the end. “You have a way of exceeding expectations, Star Colonel. If you can turn the unit around, make it useful, then you may also salvage your career. And we need effective units. We may need them very badly.”
Aidan considered the progress of the invasion. “Our invasion corridor is narrowing, and we will have the Nova Cats who will no doubt win the bidding for some worlds. Your concern is more attacks like those on Twycross?”
That earned him a nod. “Losing a Cluster every time the spheroids launch an attack would wear us down very quickly. ComStar relays their own news broadcasts as well as those of the Inner Sphere’s civilians. No one has told them how many regiments the Federated Commonwealth is moving to face us, but based on shipping disruptions and the difficulty in hiding the movement of ‘mechs into drop-ports, estimates are as high as twenty regiments - over two thousand battlemechs - converging on staging areas near the edges of our invasion corridor.”
Aidan winced. He didn’t know exactly how many OmniMechs Clan Jade Falcon had deployed to the Inner Sphere, but it was certainly less than a thousand. Granted that the Nova Cat clusters were already arriving, but that was at a cost of dozens of shipments being delayed.
“One of the Galaxies will need to be held back to smash such attempts one at a time,” Chistu continued. “Vau Galaxy was being considered - rebuilding the Gyrfalcon Guards rather than replacing it is the price they will pay for Delta taking the role instead. You will not be popular - but you are needed. And:” He spread his hands. “Frontline duty after a decade of rotting away in garrison. I am your benefactor, quiaff?”
“Aff.” Aidan narrowed his eyes. “Rebuilding the Gyrfalcons will require equipment and personnel.”
“You will have them. Several of your fellow garrison commanders will no doubt be complaining about receiving Inner Sphere refits rather than Omnimechs, but your need is greater than theirs. As for personnel. Well, you will not be receiving volunteers, but there are always warriors who a commander is willing to be without.”
“I have a few in mind. My current aide, Mechwarrior Diana.”
“Granted,” Chistu said dismissively.
“And Horse - Tyle, officially.”
That got a pause. “You want me to assign a freebirth to a frontline unit?”
“Both of them are freeborn,” Aidan corrected him. “And I will take others if their commanders will release them.”
Chistu scowled at him. “And I should grant you this because…?”
Now it was Aidan’s turn to raise his fingers - just two of them. “Because you want me to take this post rather than retain this one. Do not threaten me with a solahma posting, we both know I would fight a Trial of Refusal over it.”
The galaxy commander shook his head. “You are just as Kael Pershaw said you were.”
“And secondly,” Aidan told him with a conspiratorial smile, “Because Vau Galaxy will be the one who have freeborn warriors. If we fail then you lose little. But when we succeed…” That would be even more embarrassing for Vau and their haughty trueborn, frontline warriors.
“Ha!” Chistu slapped his thigh, though Aidan thought the gesture theatrical rather than sincere. “Bargained well and done!”
I will not find many friends in Vau Galaxy, the new commander of the Gyrfalcon Guards thought to himself. So I will be glad to have Horse there to cover my back.
Then another thought struck him. If I encounter Joanna again, I will be lucky to survive. I hope Star Colonel Malthus is not so mad as to dismiss her from the Falcon Guards and send her to join their old rival in Vau Galaxy.
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Hmm, the Nova Cats on LC/FedCom axis of the Invasion? Looks like no vassalised Clan for the Combine to inevitably screw over. The question is, which direction will the Cats visions lead them now? I wonder...... ;)
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Wheels within wheels, I see... ^-^
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Could the Cats follow the 'web' of another story? "Along came the Nova Cat... >:D"
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Opalescent Reflections
House of Cards
Chapter 3
Republic City, Satalice
Skandia Province, Free Rasalhague Republic
28 October 3050
Tyra Miraborg slumped back, helmet pressing against the headrest of her ejection seat, as the fusion turbine of her Shilone began to spool down. Ignoring the crew outside who were chocking the wheels of the landing gear and carrying out other post-flight tasks, the young pilot tried to mentally review the training flight and the performance of her squadron.
Valkyrie Squadron wasn’t what it had been before Rasalhague, but nor were the Flying Drakons. Even after folding in the survivors of every Kungsarme squadron they came across, little more than thirteen squadrons were on the roster, compared to the original eighteen. And they were far less picky about performance.
On the other hand, there was a burning edge to their fighting now that Tyra had never known before. A drive that her previous peacetime experience had lacked. Every pilot drove their fighters as hard as they could, knowing that the enemy they were flying against would have faster and more heavily armed airframes to work with. Twelve months ago, a training regime like this would have had pilots protesting and beancounters bitching. Now they just went to it.
And during her waking hours, Tyra could believe that it made a difference.
Ferleiten. Engadin. Stanzach and that horrendous furball over Memmingen. She’d thought she might see Gunzburg again after that, but instead the Flying Drakons had gone to Thannhausen to cover for the evacuation of troops there…
More than a hundred and thirty light years of retreat had brought them this far, only to be held back from fighting as a fifth wave of attacks rolled over the Free Rasalhague Republic. Clan Smoke Jaguar were bearing down on Radstadt, and Tyra yearned to be there and avenge Reykjavik. Clan Wolf were even closer, and while that would have been less personal…
A knock on the cockpit broke her out of thoughts that had, she realized, never really touched on her pilots. Looking up, Tyra saw the crew chief looking at her in concern. She undogged the canopy and checked that external power was active before hitting the switch that opened the cockpit up. “Sorry, chief. I was lost in thought.”
Edgars nodded. “The General wants to see you at the command post, kapten. Any gripes we need to worry about?”
“No.” Tyra levered herself upright and accepted his help in getting up and onto the folding ladder he’d used to reach her. “You’ve worked wonders. That stickiness on the left wing’s outer flap is gone.”
“Ah, glad we ironed that out.” Edgars backed down the ladder ahead of her. “We’ll take care of the post flight. Can’t keep the General waiting.”
He’s been keeping us waiting, Tyra thought. But she didn’t say it outloud, just unbuckling her helmet and setting it down on the steps. “Thanks, chief.”
She hitched a ride on one of the technicians’ wagons over to the airbase’s headquarters buildings and stretched her legs jogging the rest of the way. Wearing flight gear in the admin section was a minor no-no, under the same regulations that kept mechwarriors from flashing their bare biceps and thighs at innocent staff personnel, but when a general wanted your attention then you didn’t waste time getting changed. And this wasn’t a general. Edgars had said it was the General, which meant only one person.
Immediately Tyra identified herself at the reception desk, a grizzled sergeant escorted her to an elevator and then to one of the offices. The fact that he made no mention of her flight suit confirmed that this was one of those situations where regulations can go hang.
The sergeant knocked on one door. “Kapten Miraborg for you, general.”
“Send her in.”
The door was opened for Tyra and then the sergeant closed it behind her. She saluted crisply, they way you do when faced by the head of your state. Even if they’re one of your father’s closest friends. Especially when they’re one of your father’s closest friends.
General Christian Mansdottir looked as if he’d aged ten years since they left Rasalhague. He rose from behind a desk piled high with work and returned her salute before gesturing towards the seat facing him. “Tyra… how is your squadron doing?”
“We’re working up, sir. When the Wolves get here -” The paths of advance were clear by now and it would be a shock if anyone but Clan Wolf arrived. “- we’ll be ready. If you want to send us forward again then we’ll be ready for that too.”
“I don’t doubt that. And…” He paused, shrugged off his jacket. “Speaking as your uncle Christian, how are you doing?”
“I’m…” She almost said fit for duty, but that wasn’t what he’d asked. “I’m coping. Don’t worry about me.”
“From your father’s last letter, he does. And given what you’ve been through, I think someone should.”
Tyra shook her head. “There are a lot of people in a worse position. I’m…” Then she frowned. “Father is writing to you about me?”
“Since a long time before you left Gunzburg.” And stopped replying to his messages, the general didn’t add. “His last message to me said that if you were still there, he would have tried sending you away. And you’d have argued and he’d have lost.”
Tyra looked away. She’d departed over his treatment of Phelan Kell. The way the ‘Iron Jarl’ and his followers vented their hatred on a mercenary who had nothing to do with those who had abandoned her father on the battlefield during the Ronin War had cemented the changes in her father.
Mansdottir sighed, more in sorrow than in disappointment. “You’re not wrong in what you saw in him and I’m not going to try to justify it. Whatever you said to him before you left didn’t get brushed off. He has been thinking about what you said. It won’t get him out of his wheelchair, but it might have given him a good hard look at what was being done in his name.”
She raised her chin. “So he asked you to speak to me?”
“No.” Her uncle in all but blood shook his head slightly. “You’re as stubborn as he is. We both know that wouldn’t do anything. And I know that this wouldn’t be tearing the two of you up so much if you didn’t love each other so fiercely. It’s how you Miraborgs are, why it’s such a privilege to know you.” Then he rested his hands on the table. “And it’s why I wanted you to hear this from me.”
Tyra’s guts churned. “The Wolves hit Gunzburg, didn’t they?”
“In a manner of speaking, yes.”
“What do you mean? Either they're invading or they’re not.” She paused. “At least it’s not the… not Smoke Jaguars.” Uncle or not, cursing in front of the general was not done.
“A Clan Wolf jumpship reached Gunzburg three days ago,” Mansdottir told her quietly. “They requested safe passage to land a shuttle and send an emissary to address your father personally.”
That didn’t sound like the Clans. A demand to know what was going to resist them was normal. “And?”
“Reports conflict on what happened next. Even ComStar doesn’t claim to know exactly, but an understanding seems to have been reached.”
“That’s impossible!” She shook her head. “Father wouldn’t do that! He would rather die than surrender Gunzburg!”
The general shrugged. “I would have said the same. But I doubt any single emissary could have overpowered and coerced him in his own headquarters, much less in public. He's been making all his scheduled public appearances... just with a man in a Wolf mask at his side. Reportedly they are ‘in talks about Gunzburg's future’.”
Tyra envisaged her homeworld - her hometown - her family home. All under the banner of Clan Wolf. “This can’t be happening. What about the Gunzburg Eagles? What are they doing?”
“Maintaining readiness,” Mansdottir told her. “They haven't stood down or surrendered... but they're not fighting back either. There’s nothing to fight against. And the longer this goes on, the more your father will be associated with accepting Clan Wolf’s presence… and with that, their authority. But I thought it best to tell you now, before anyone else did. Because, as you can imagine, the rumor mill will take every scrap of information and embroider it with imagination. Some of those rumors are likely to be ugly.”
“You mean they’ll call my father a traitor.”
“Almost certainly.” Mansdottir’s eyes were sympathetic. “I don’t believe that for a minute, Tyra. But not everyone knows Tor Miraborg the way you or I do.”
“And I’m his daughter.” Her eyes were prickling with unshed tears. She sniffed back a sob. “I don’t suppose you’re also going to send the Drakons to find out the truth. To send that Wolf emissary away and defend Gunzburg properly?”
“I wish I could. But we both know how that would go. I have enough regiments that I could try something like Twycross - but if I tried that and we lost all of them, I’d be gutting everything that’s left of the Kungsarme.”
“How many more worlds are we going to write off?!” Tyra demanded, the words escaping before she could stop them. “I’m sorry,” she added. “But…”
“You’re not the first to ask,” he waved it off. “Shipments are on their way - refit kits that should close the gap between our equipment and theirs. The hope is that it reaches Satalice and other worlds in the current defensive line before the Clans do, soon enough that we can put up a real fight - and do so with units that aren’t just scraped together from survivors but have had a chance to learn to work together. The Federated Commonwealth is planning something similar, and unlike us they have reserves to throw in.”
She looked at the flag in the corner. “Then we’d better stop them here, because there’s not much of the Republic behind us.” She intended it as a joke, but it didn’t come out that way.
“If we cannot hold them here, then we will fall back, prepare again and fight them again,” he promised. “Rasalhague has been ruled by outsiders before. We won our liberation before and we can do so again. It may take some patience.”
“Some patience and some outside support,” Tyra amended that. “Father told me that we couldn’t have won the Ronin War if Katrina Steiner and Theodore Kurita weren’t each arming us against the other. If we’ve no worlds left, do you think they’ll support us?”
“I led Tyr as essentially a mercenary regiment during the Fourth Succession War,” Mansdottir said stoutly. “As long as we can field troops, I think they’ll see the logic in financing us. And ComStar has been very accommodating in letting me funnel government funds away. We’ll have a paychest, if it comes to that.”
“I’d feel more confident in ComStar’s support if they’d appointed another Precentor Advocate for us,” the pilot replied. “Since Gwyn Thorne died, they haven’t appointed someone to represent them to the Republic. I get the impression they’re not sure there’s going to be a need.”
Mansdottir looked down at his desk, then back up at her. “I’ve been talking with Primus Wei about contingencies if we have to operate as a government-in-exile - I’ll raise that to her. You’re right, there is a morale issue. I don’t imagine it would cost her much to appoint someone provisionally.”
“It’s got to be cheaper than taking a stand. If the ComGuards garrisons were fighting, we’d have twice the forces facing the Clans. And they have lostech.”
“We were neutral between House Kurita and House Steiner-Davion for fifteen years, because it was the only way to survive,” the general pointed out. “ComStar has survived the same way for almost three centuries. Frankly, I’m glad of the help we’ve gotten out of them already. Wei Rong didn’t have to give us advance warning of the Clans - and any time I get more from ComStar than I paid for, I count myself lucky.”
Imperial City, Luthien
Pesht District, Draconis Combine
10 November 3050
There were six place settings at the hexagonal table. The five people dining all took a moment to look at the empty place while the servants set out the food between them.
“You can go,” Minoru’s grandfather dismissed the servants as they moved back to stand at the ready to assist those kneeling around the table. Without batting an eyelid the entourage filed out of the dining room.
The youngest Kurita’s mother looked away from the empty seat and began serving out the rice to everyone - one of the most trusted officers of the DCMS acting like any other housewife. The rest of the family began serving themselves from the platters in the middle of the table, Theodore filling his wife’s plate, leaning on long familiarity with her tastes.
“A long trip to New Samarkand, grandson.” Takashi Kurita mused as Minoru poured tea for the Coordinator. “It seems only yesterday you were sent there as a cadet and now you will be an instructor.”
Minoru hid a sigh. They all knew that it was an excuse to get the second-in-line to the throne off Luthien before it came under attack - there had been dozens of officers on Terra, taking notes from the Wolf Dragoons about the Clans. A Chu-i who had never seen action wasn’t a good fit for teaching cadets only a year or two his junior. But complaining would change nothing. “Yes. I am sure I will need to explain once a week that someone’s brilliant idea to slow the Clans by headhunting their bloodnamed nobility will not work.”
“It would be terribly convenient if they really did halt operations to engage in tournaments over the succession,” Theodore agreed. “Alas, even the death of a Khan has not slowed the Diamond Sharks down significantly and the Smoke Jaguars were the same.”
“I didn’t think the Smoke Jaguar Khan was killed,” Omi observed precisely. Minoru’s sister was the last served with rice and she bowed her head slightly to their mother.
“Deposed or dead, either way they needed to choose a successor and it seems to have been a relatively painless process for them,” their father said.
“Seems,” Takashi mused. “But they would not advertise their internal politics. It may have been more problematic than we are aware. In any case,” he continued, “We cannot boast of killing either of them. Both brought down by their own people for failures. The one I would have sent to the garden, but the second… Pesht is a severe loss to us.”
Theodore said nothing, but his gaze drifted to the empty side of the table. After a moment, Tomoe reached over and touched her husband’s hand. He looked up. “We know something more of that now.”
“Oh?”
“The Diamond Shark who killed their Khan was the same who served as Hohiro’s second.”
“Ace Enders,” someone said, almost a hiss. A chill went down Minoru’s spine as he realized it was his sister.
Takashi’s eyes were distant. “Not their new Khan. Was he removed for his temerity?”
Theodore shook his head. “He appears to have support of their new leader. He elevated her, after all.”
“Then he will be coming here,” Tomoe observed in a resigned tone. “I suppose he will be easy to recognise.”
Takashi nodded. “Yes. The hubris of commanding a heavy-assault unit from a lighter ‘mech. I would call him a fool but he appears to be successful.”
“Not the first time you’ve said that about a young leader,” Theodore observed.
Everyone other than the two most powerful men in the Draconis Combine fell silent as they exchanged weighted looks.
“I appointed you command of my soldiers,” Takashi Kurita reminded his son. “I had doubts, but for the most part you have shown them to be misplaced.”
Minoru’s father nodded. “I appreciate that you have refrained from criticizing my decisions in public.”
“Open disagreement would only serve our enemies,” the Coordinator replied acidly. “I would prefer that you brought the Sword of Light together, since the heart of the Combine is at risk, but I can find no fault with the units that are here or on their way.”
“The Fifth would be worthless,” Theodore told his father. “Federated Commonwealth raiders - and the Northwind Highlanders, who don’t even appear to have been paid for striking at them - have kept them at no more than a battalion since 3040. If we were not at war I might have brought them here to rebuild, but right now a shipment of refit kits is better use of the dropship collars.”
“And are you similarly scathing of the Eighth?” asked Takashi stiffly.
That got a shake of Theodore’s head. “A good unit. Perhap not the best, but trustworthy. I am holding them back, because if the worst happens, if we face a complete disaster here on Luthien then they will be able to keep the Sword of Light alive. Able to serve as the seeds for rebuilding the brigade.” Then he spread his hands. “And to be honest, your Dragon Claws are a fine regiment. If they had a fourth battalion I would call them the equal of the Eighth.”
Minoru had personally been very surprised to learn that his grandfather had been directing equipment and training funds to the Luthien planetary militia, staffing them with some of his old comrades from the Third Succession War. The ‘Dragons Claws’ regiment concentrated about half the battlemechs of the militia into a single force which had an average age not far short of sixty for its mechwarriors, but they performed as well as soldiers half their age.
Whether it had been a surprise for Minoru’s father was a question he pondered occasionally. It was almost certain that the Coordinator had been organizing them as a counter to any coup being launched against him by his own son. But at the same time, there was no question that Takashi Kurita was entirely within his rights to contribute to the militia. Setting aside the fact that he was the Coordinator, he was also Duke of Luthien and it could reasonably be argued that seeing to the planetary militia was his duty. That being the case, letting Takashi believe that he was sneaking it past Theodore would have been a valid strategy.
Theodore’s public reaction to the Dragons Claws parading through the Imperial City was delight that the capital’s militia was so ready to fulfill their duty to defend Luthien, which could have meant anything. It wasn’t as if he’d complain about their strength under the circumstances.
“Have you considered further on the matter of special weapons?” the Coordinator enquired after they had eaten more, falling into a more communal silence.
Minoru’s father nodded. “I have no intention of using our chemical and biological stockpiles. There is good reason we don’t even store them here.”
“We are of one mind there. If the worst happens then denying assets such as the factories to the enemy is one thing,” Takashi agreed. “Weapons that could render Luthien barren forever are another.”
“There is no honor in using such weapons,” Minoru’s mother said quietly.
Takashi glanced at her. “I would not say there is no circumstance when they might not be called for,” he said judiciously, perhaps thinking back to instances where they had been used. Not so very long ago really, even if they were exceptions and not the rule. “But never as a first resort, and here not even at the last. Poisoning the heart of our own realm would be reckless.”
“If Luthien falls to the Diamond Sharks then it can be retaken,” Theodore observed. “But if we turn on our own people… it would take relatively little use of such weapons to reduce food production below that which is needed to support the population. Luthien was not chosen as our capital because of its robust ecosystem.”
Minoru’s grandfather grunted. “Quite. But the use of nuclear weapons may be an option.”
“We have few other counters to the enemy’s warships,” Theodore agreed. “Your thoughts, Minoru?”
Put on the spot, the young man swallowed the rice in his mouth. “Clan Ghost Bear’s offer of a treaty barring each other’s use of special weapons, including orbital bombardment suggests that they consider the threat real. From what I have learned of the Clans, most feel similarly. The threat of their use many be more valuable as leverage than their actual tactical effect.”
Both older men nodded sagely. “The Rasalhaguans failed to destroy the Smoke Jaguar’s warship even with nuclear weapons,” Theodore added. “Granted, we would know to use a larger number, but since the Clans seem willing to negotiate the circumstances of battle and actually hold to such agreements, it is worthwhile to consider what concessions might be wrung from them.”
Takashi set down his chopsticks. “If it seems likely that Luthien would fall, I would be tempted to order the use of bombardment. The Diamond Sharks must be gathering much of their forces here, a decisive strike could leave them without the strength to continue the invasion.”
“Possibly,” Theodore conceded. “Unfortunately, there are other Clans who might step in. And before you say that they should be treated the same way, there would also be the use of their warships to bombard us. If they simply eradicate every sign of the DCMS from orbit without landing, they wouldn’t have conquered us, but they would leave us open to anyone else who desired to.”
“And the Fox has always desired our worlds,” Takashi agreed soberly. “So long as we can keep the Clans from reaching his own worlds, he can focus on defending his wife’s domain. But if we cannot do that then he would have no further use for our current truce.” The Coordinator shook his head grimly and then looked at Omi. “You should go with your brother.”
She picked up a pear from the bowl of fruit and did not meet her grandfather’s gaze. “I am training to be Keeper of the House’s Honor. My departure would advertise uncertainty, which we cannot afford.”
The white-haired man shook his head and looked at Theodore. “When I wished that you would have children who could match your disobedience, I did not know what grief I was wishing on myself.”
-
CWS Dire Wolf, Nadir Jump Point
Thun, Clan Wolf Occupation Zone
15 November 3050
Ulric was drafting orders to send more munitions from the homeworlds when his comm pinged, alerting him to the return of his bondsman. Clan Wolf’s situation when it came to supplies wasn’t as bad as in some other Clans but it still wasn’t good. Food and other basic materials could be obtained locally, with some care - even armor plating for some ‘mechs but the more advanced materials that were used on most Omnimechs were another matter.
At some point in their history, the Clans had switched their preferred autocannon rounds to a type no longer in use in the Inner Sphere, perhaps one that had never been used. And then there were the different missile sensor and tracking heads… It would be impossible to obtain them locally, something that would have to be dealt with eventually. Ulric envied the Diamond Sharks who had apparently concluded that they could spare enough jumpships to maintain something close to a command circuit between the Pentagon worlds and their forward supply base - a barely habitable world within a couple of jumps of the Inner Sphere.
Since Clan Wolf’s jumpship fleet couldn’t spare that many hulls, Ulric was forced to look ahead six months and try to order shipments of what was likely to be needed in that future. It was a constantly frustrating exercise and he was glad to put it aside with a quick note to himself to issue orders to limit munitions expenditure.
The door of the compartment opened and Phelan walked in, wearing a gray jumpsuit badged with the Clan emblem on both sleeves, and an enclosing wolfshead helmet. The youth was moving a little stiffly, until he peeled off the helmet Ulric was beginning to wonder if this was really his bondsman.
“Founder!” the khan exclaimed as he saw bruising around Phelan’s right eye. “What happened to you?”
Phelan reached up and touched the bruise, flinching his finger found it. “I got punched in the face, the mask isn’t really all that protective.”
Ulric grimaced. It looked as if the impact had driven the framework back into Phelan’s face. “I trust that you dealt more damage than you received.”
That got a grin. “Your trust would be well placed, my Khan,” the former-mercenary boasted. “In this and…” He hesitated, bravado slipping away. “And in my mission.” He produced an envelope and placed it on the desk.
“Is your injury related?”
Phelan shrugged. “The Iron Jarl’s aide objected to my presence. I remember him from my previous visit and this time he did not have five confederates to soften me up for him.”
“I think he might have needed more than five this time,” mused Ulric, a little praise never going to waste. “And Miraborg’s reaction to this incident.”
“I believe it was the deciding moment for him,” Phelan said slowly. “He knew the situation could not continue - Gunzburg is increasingly isolated, and any injury to an emissary would justify an invasion that he could not defeat. And perhaps by sparing Kuusik, I showed him that Clan Wolf would similarly spare his people. He is a patriot, after all.”
The Khan nodded. A trial, in effect. Or at least, he could sell it to the Clan Council as such - a trial of possession between unaugmented warriors. “And the terms?” He took up the envelope.
“Not unconditional,” admitted Phelan. “Clan Wolf will recognise him as the head of the civilians of Gunzberg and leave all their matters to his government.”
“Acceptable.” It would spare an administrative staff to govern another world.
“Soldiers who don’t wish to remain on Gunzburg will be free to depart to rejoin the Republic… if they want to fight then they do so on other worlds.”
Ulric frowned. “How will they travel?”
“The Jarl suggests bonded cargo on ComStar merchantmen,” Phelan explained. “They would take their equipment and probably some supplies, but ComStar would see they don’t use it until they’re handed off to the FRR.”
“Hmm.” That wasn’t as good. Ulric stroked his beard. “How many do you think would go?”
“What’s left of the Third Drakons, I would think. Perhaps as much as half of the Gunzburg Eagles… although I doubt it. Some of the other militia forces, but most won’t want to leave their homes.”
“I see. So the Kungsarme will lose perhaps half a regiment of battlemechs, besides the militia units.” The Khan nodded. “And those who do not leave?”
Phelan swallowed. “For the security of Gunzburg, until a garrison cluster can be provided, the armed forces will remain under arms, but under the command of an officer of Clan Wolf.”
Ulric raised an eyebrow, hiding his thoughts about where he would scrape up an entire garrison cluster. Those brought with the initial invasion force were already spread out, rarely more than a binary to a world. More were coming, but never enough. Perhaps that was the point - Miraborg wanting to tie down troops in garrison, in ways he couldn’t have by resisting conventionally.
“Once there’s a garrison, the soldiers will disarm or be given the chance to earn warrior status in Clan Wolf,” Phelan continued tentatively, obviously uncertain. “I didn’t really pin down what that would take…”
“So they are bondsmen, without the cord.” After a moment’s thought, the Khan shrugged. “Very well. We will no doubt need more warriors for the touman in the future. It will not be easy for them, but it is worth the try.” The Diamond Sharks were reportedly grooming a large number of bondsmen for eventual warrior status, so it was a path worth exploring. “What else?”
“Other than that, the same terms you told me to offer. All offworld trade and shipping will be under our control. No further support to worlds fighting Clan Wolf. All taxes that would have been sent to the Free Rasalhague Republic will instead be turned over to the Clan to purchase supplies from Gunzburg.”
Ulric scanned the documents, quickly confirming that they were as Phelan described. “Very good. The concessions you made are acceptable.” With the fifth wave underway, nine other worlds were under attack, and the defenders were no longer caught off guard. It was better to compromise now to bring in Gunzburg at no real cost - Tor Miraborg would not live forever, after which the civilian population could be brought over to the way of the Clans.
Phelan looked relieved. Hopefully he didn’t realize how stretched the Clan’s forces were - the image of strength was one of the reasons that he was choosing to side with Clan Wolf. When it appeared that their victory was inevitable, the young man could tell himself that moderating their policies was the best choice rather than trying to oppose them. And it was time for the next step in that.
“Phelan, it is very rare for one of our warriors to be solely responsible for bringing an entire world under Clan Wolf’s protection. For it to be done by a bondsman is unique.”
The youth looked uncomfortable. “I was just…”
“Please, many of my duties are onerous,” Ulric told him. “Rewarding the deserving is one of the pleasures.”
Phelan ducked his head, embarrassed.
“You will be twenty years old next year. That is the customary age when cadets take their Trial of Position to join the warrior caste. I am sure that Ranna and most of her sibkin will be happy to help you prepare. You will be cleared for the use of our simulators - and we will see what can be done to give you practice time in omnimechs - as operational needs allow, of course.”
“Y-you mean it?” he stammered.
“Of course,” Ulric confirmed. “Before the next wave of the invasion, I will arrange the ceremonies to welcome you into Clan Wolf formally, not just as a bondsman but as one of us. You have the heart of the Wolf, I should acknowledge it.” He offered his hand. “Welcome home, Phelan.”
The youth was evidently still conflicted, but he accepted the hand. And Ranna would likely do all she could to encourage Phelan to accept his destiny, without any prompting from Ulric. Perhaps ask Cyrilla Ward to contact Phelan, Ulric thought… He did claim descent from one of the founders’ close kin. A case could be made that Phelan was part of the Ward bloodhouse…
Hilton Head, North America
Terra, Sol System
20 November 3050
Wei Rong had used a stick to draw a circle in the beach sand, then lines to mark out the current borders of the Successor States. Even in this crude approximation, the region occupied by the Clans was larger than the Capellan Confederation. The fifth wave of worlds being hit had brought Clan Wolf almost up to the ‘second circuit line’ - two hundred and fifty light years from where she stood.
“It’s been less than a year and they’re halfway to Terra,” she noted to Anastasius Focht.
The one-eyed Precentor Martial nodded solemnly. “My analysts and those in Mu division predict that the leading elements could reach the Terran corridor by the end of next year, if not sooner.”
Wei rubbed her eyes. “Most of them seemed to be slowing down. But these reinforcements…”
“The Smoke Jaguars, Diamond Sharks and Ghost Bears are all seizing a relatively sparsely settled region,” he reminded her. “They’re gaining volume of space but not so many worlds. The Bears and Jaguars are about to reach one of the most densely packed regions of the Draconis Combine - unless they bypass worlds, they’ll be stretched to take them quickly.”
“But they will take them.”
Focht moved over and took the pointer, tapping the parts of her crude map that he meant. “Almost certainly. And after that there’s the Buckminster Rift… that will let them move forward and keep pace while Clan Wolf enters the Isle of Skye.” He shook his head. “This would be easier to show you with a proper map. Is there some reason we’re not having this meeting in my command center or your office?”
“I needed to get outside for a while. It was turning into an echo chamber in there.” Wei waved one hand back towards the HPG complex behind them. “Out here I can get some fresh air and a fresh perspective.”
The old man shook his head slightly. “If you say so, Primus. In any case, exact estimates vary between ten and fifteen months before at least one Clan holds a world within thirty light years of Terra. At that point we believe the current agreement to grant us the immunity of their Free Guilds would break down.”
Wei studied the horizon. “Terra is such a prize for them?”
“According to Phelan Kell, the Clans have a belief or perhaps an agreement that the Clan which secures Terra will have the status of ilClan.”
“In the same sense as ilKhan?” she asked.
Focht nodded. “Whichever Clan it is, they would claim predominant status and their Khan would become ilKhan - which could mean dethroning Leo Showers. We both know how men and women can be driven by ambition. Even Ulric Kerensky, who claims to see the Clans as protectors of the Inner Sphere, desires the role so that he can impose his will upon the Clans.”
Wei nodded bleakly and folded her arms behind her back, arching her shoulders back and throwing her chest out a little. “And the chances of the Inner Sphere stopping them, as things stand?”
“There is a degree of tapering to the invasion corridors, intended to offset losses as they advance. Even without reverses such as Twycross or the losses on Pesht, attrition was slowing the Clans,” the Precentor Martial observed dispassionately. “However, the addition of two other Clans has revitalized their advance - and they have at least one additional Clan in reserve.” A stab of the pointer into the sand: “The Free Rasalhague Republic will fall, barring a miracle. The most we can hope for is that they bleed the Wolves and the Smoke Jaguars.”
That was much what Wei had expected. The Kungsarme simply lacked the numbers to defend their worlds, and each world that fell hurt them far more than larger realms whose core regions were outside the path of the advance. Or had been. “And the Combine?”
Focht took a deep breath. “The Diamond Sharks are gambling on Luthien. If they fail, I believe their losses will take them essentially out of the advance for the near future. But if they succeed, the loss of the Combine’s best units and the morale impact will severely hinder opposition. And in either case, Ghost Bear’s new advance will be unaffected. I don’t have a good feel for them yet, and the Diamond Sharks’ new Khan is hard to read.”
“So you believe that Hawker’s death hasn’t deterred them for following his plan to strike for Luthien?” Wei enquired. “It didn’t seem likely, but I’d be interested in why.”
“According to my sources, it wasn’t his plan in the first place - he adopted it, but the driving force was a rising officer in their ranks. An iconoclast within the Clan’s ranks - Star Colonel Ace Enders. He has been appointed to lead Alpha Galaxy’s advance, which suggests that the strategy is still in effect.” Focht grimaced. “I have no direct information on Enders, but he appears to be a divisive figure, young and ambitious.”
“He wants it all and he wants it now.”
“Perhaps. Luthien may be the test of whether the Diamond Sharks have the ability to take it. It isn’t just the capital of the Combine, it’s the largest source of Battlemechs and other heavy military equipment House Kurita can call on. The logistical impact of its loss would be tremendous.”
Wei turned back to the map and looked at the largest state there. Even losses to the Clans hadn’t substantially reduced the vast hourglass shape of the Federated Commonwealth. Not yet. But if the narrow corridor of worlds around Terra was lost to House Steiner-Davion… “And the Federated Commonwealth?”
“There are no similar worlds that they must stand and fight for,” allowed Focht. “They have more flexibility - and of course, the AFFC is huge. The fighting for Sudeten is fierce, but Hasek-Davion has ordered the other reserves to assemble on Arc-Royal instead - outside the Clans’ projected advance so it seems he does not intend to hold on more than he must there.”
“How many regiments are there?” she asked. “I know the Grey Death Legion’s landhold was there.”
“The Legion was barely back from Twycross, and the First Kathil Uhlans had returned with them,” he answered. “The Kell Hounds and the Tenth Lyran Guards,” - he paused fractionally on saying that name, catching Wei’s attention, but then continued - “travelled anti-spinwards so they were unavailable. It’s believed they’re escorting Jade Falcon prisoners, tooling from Trellshire Heavy Industries and the remains of the Twelfth Donegal Guards from Trellwan. The Second New Ivaarsen Chasseurs and elements of the Tenth Donegal Guards RCT had arrived since.”
Wei frowned. “Two regiments and two Regimental Combat Teams are not expected to hold off the Jade Falcons?”
“They are facing a full Galaxy,” Focht pointed out. “A broadly similar balance of forces to that we saw on Pesht. The Jade Falcons are fighting aggressively, but not to the point of being as reckless as Ian Hawker was there. It’s likely they will take losses, but the priority for Marshal Hasek-Davion appears to be buying time to evacuate personnel and to keep the Jade Falcons committed to the fighting until the remaining reserves reach Arc-Royal.”
“Would it be possible to discreetly assist with that?” she asked. “If not directly then by providing jumpships for other cargo in order to free them up for military shipments?”
The man frowned and then drew a circle around the entire map. “We have capacity,” he allowed, “But then that cuts into our other activities. I’m not the one to speak to about the financial impact on our commercial shipping, but we have a number of jumpships and dropships committed to bringing the ComGuards back from outlying posts. The aid you’ve provided to Theodore Kurita has already had a knock-on effect.”
Wei pursed her lips. “I suppose that’s more important.” While it wasn’t practical to pull the entire ComGuards together, most HPGs now had only detachments of mechanized infantry backed by a handful of light tanks. Many of the enclaves along the rimwards periphery were more exposed to pirates than they had been in a hundred years. “What’s the current estimated time of arrival for the field armies?”
“We have fifty brigades assembled in the Terran system and enclaves on the other First Circuit worlds,” he told her. “Most of the remaining units were stationed along the periphery. I expect another twelve brigades to arrive within a month with the rest trickling in over the next two months.”
“And if we deploy them to strike at the Clans before then?”
Focht raised the pointer and indicated the map. “That would depend on where you want to deploy them. The number of dropship collars required to move even one field army is considerable, and we’re talking about two of them.”
Wei studied the map. “Unfortunately, that depends on what opportunities arise.”
“The sooner we know, the sooner we can start moving,” he advised. “And Primus, one thing I always advise my officers is that it is fatal to commit to a battle without a clear idea of what you want to gain out of it.”
She looked at him for a long moment and then nodded. “Give me a few minutes.”
“Primus, I am literally at your command,” he said drily and retreated to a deckchair on the beach, looking distinctly regal in his ComGuards uniform despite the sand and the floral pattern of the seat.
For her part, Wei kicked off her sandals and walked out until the sand was wet beneath her feet. After a moment, cold Atlantic water washed up and covered her toes briefly, making her shiver.
He was right. She needed to focus on a goal, not just react. So what did she want to achieve?
Starting from first principles, a nice peaceful retirement, where she could indulge in her vices sounded good. Not on Terra, if possible - someone would insist on bothering her about ongoing ComStar business. Not so far away that Upsilon division started fretting she would start sharing ComStar’s dirty little secrets though.
For most of her adult life, the Inner Sphere had been at something resembling peace. It was probably the longest period without a war since the fall of the Star League… that it was less than a decade long seemed sad to Wei. Certainly though, these years had been better than the childhood memories of war. The Clans had shattered that fragile hope… and as long as they were fighting, the peace she’d need in order to get out of being Primus and live a life of quiet debauchery wouldn’t be a possibility.
“What if they won?” she wondered and then shook her head. As the leader of ComStar, if the Clans won she’d be too useful to them - as a trophy if nothing else. She was fairly sure bondsmen didn’t get to retire, so that was out.
The Clans weren’t going to go away though. And even if they did, the Inner Sphere would look for their homeworlds. Even without the coordinates, Jaime Wolf had given enough information to narrow down the possibilities. Space was large but it wasn’t infinite. Sooner or later, someone would find the Clans. So one way or another they’d have to be convinced to co-exist with the Successor States.
Could she do that without making ComStar their enemy? Halt their advance short of Terra - Focht was right. Proximity would likely be too great a temptation and it would only take one Khan yielding to that.
She walked back through the sand towards Focht, feeling it cling to her wet feet. “I believe the Clans need to be stopped before they reach striking distance of Terra,” she told him. “Partly for selfish reasons, but also because severing the Terran Corridor might push the Federated Commonwealth to take drastic measures to reconnect. From what you said earlier, the Successor States are unlikely to be able to stop all of the Clans.”
The Precentor Martial nodded. “Agreed.”
“I would prefer some means of forcing them to engage with the rest of the Inner Sphere peacefully,” Wei added. “But I may be asking too much there.”
“That would be a matter of striking the right bargain,” Focht told her. “And since every decision the Clans make is subject to trial by combat, we will have to fight to make the terms binding.”
The wind tugged at Wei’s hair, tangling it. She raked her hands through it. “Meaning we will become their enemies, endangering all of our enclaves in their territory.”
He shook his head, his own long hair also caught in the wind except where the tie for his eyepatch secured it. “If we defeat them in a trial over their advance then we would at least have their acknowledgement - under their own rules, any claim they have to make would be a matter of a formal trial for possession. Given we destroyed the Susquehanna HPG rather than surrender it, I believe they would want their own HPGs in place first.”
“Yes.” Wei smirked. “Generations of Primus are rolling in their graves at the fact that we no longer have a monopoly. I wonder if any of the Clans will consider selling their HPGs to Successor States.”
Focht considered that solemnly. “You may not wish to give the First Circuit that idea. They may not react… rationally,” he said at last.
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Very interesting portrayal of the Kurita's right now.
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Very interesting portrayal of the Kurita's right now.
Agreed. That dinner discussion was written very well, showing great insight into a House whose future is up against the wall.
Also, can you imagine when poor Tyra finds out Phelan is alive? That's a scene we never got in canon.
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The Kurita scene was interesting, but not nearly as interesting as the ComStar discussion... THAT can really swing things... 8)
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The battle for Sudeten sounds much fiercer than it was OTL.
“Your excuses are like this wall,” Ace spat, dragging the sword back through it.
“I will - !”
Then Ace thrust. The curved blade punched into Ian Hawker’s chest, just to the left of his breastbone.
“Paper-thin,”
What a guy, many wanted this to happen, but he made it a reality. I wonder what reaction of Kuritan family would be if they learned that the Diamond Shark Khan was slain wit Hohiro's sword.
Given that Diamond Skate cluster had much larger percentage of bloodnamed warriors than other clusters, Ian Hawker must have gotten quite a few killed, what were the rules for the Trial of Bloodright for the invading clans during operation Revival?
Then another thought struck him. If I encounter Joanna again, I will be lucky to survive. I hope Star Colonel Malthus is not so mad as to dismiss her from the Falcon Guards and send her to join their old rival in Vau Galaxy.
Given Joannas talent for making people hate her, I reckon Adler Malthaus will by now be quite eager to get rid of her and opportunity like this...
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Well done! I'm enjoying this whole thing.
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Given that Diamond Skate cluster had much larger percentage of bloodnamed warriors than other clusters, Ian Hawker must have gotten quite a few killed, what were the rules for the Trial of Bloodright for the invading clans during operation Revival?
The Trials will be carried out 'as operations allow'. Which Barbara Sennet has quietly advised will be after she considers there to be enough slack in the supply lines to support this, and get all the candidates together.
The bloodrights are not reaved or even suspended. The Bloodhouses are just... waiting for the right time to choose successors.
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Wise of her.
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With all of the invading galaxies on Luthien, provided they win, and probably in need of re-building, which will take time, that may be a suitable opportunity for any of the Bloodright Trials to take place.
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If they are smart about it, the Sharks only allow non-lethal (or less-lethal) blood right trials during a potential rebuilt phase. They don't exactly have warriors to spare right now.
Great chapter. I especially enjoyed reading Wei's decision making process. Starting from pure self-interest and arriving at Tukayyid ;D
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Maybe I missed it in an earlier post, but is Natasha still with the Dragoons or has she rejoined the Wolves as in canon?
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Opalescent Reflections
House of Cards
Chapter 4
CDS Terror of the Deep, Cyrenaica
Clan Diamond Shark Occupation Zone
28 November 3050
Alpha Galaxy was carrying out its first invasion under Ace’s leadership, but he wasn’t taking a direct hand. Cut down to deal with the defenders was two Clusters, and he’d allowed Lionel Arlond and Rachel Clarke to bid between themselves for who would lead the effort. Clarke had won, so the invasion force was built around her 39th Strike Cluster, backed by elements of the 19th and 21st Clusters.
While Clarke was engaged with a pair of Ghost Regiments who seemed to have taken their name to heart and proving fairly elusive, Ace remained aboard the flagship as it waited to intercept any attempts to escape. The paperwork of trying to pull together some form of replacement for the shattered Diamondskate command cluster was as grueling as planning the invasion had been, the scale was smaller but the details were far more important.
Since he didn’t have a six month voyage to work on it, Ace rather resented being pulled away from it but there was no way around it: he might be a Galaxy Commander now, but he was still subject to the Khans.
Barbara Sennet seemed fresh and rested despite the fact that her Gamma Galaxy was engaged in multiple invasions of their own. Ace saluted her as she boarded the battleship and she returned it solemnly. “Galaxy Commander,” she greeted him. “We have a lot to deal with, let us be about it.”
For all of that, Sennet made a point of stopping to speak to every officer they passed on the way to the flag quarters. Four brief conversations later, none of which seemed to be of substance, they were behind a closed door. “I thought you were in a hurry.”
“I am,” she told him bluntly, resting her forearms on the top of the seat facing his desk. They were under zero gravity, so sitting was possible but not a requirement. “Making myself known to the Clan is one of the things I am here for. My predecessor preferred that I not be too interested in his command.” Then she frowned at Ace. “You should do the same. Your reputation precedes you, not always in a helpful way.”
Ace gestured to his desk. “Busy. Most of Hawker’s staff are unavailable now and half my own are absent.”
“Even so. Building up replacements from the available officers will help them get to know you.” Sennet met his gaze with her own. “I am trusting you with Alpha Galaxy, at least until after Luthien, because I believe it is better not to disrupt the command structure before a critical Trial. If you let me down, you will not retain the rank.”
He heard the implicit offer that if he performed well that he would be given another Galaxy. “I would not have been surprised if you sent me to replace Jeremy Hawker.”
Sennet smiled thinly. “You both supported me as Khan. He has already done all of this,” she indicated the desk, “for Kappa Spina and knows them well. Giving you the results of his work would be poor repayment. It is possible he will receive Gamma in the future.”
“Thank you for the advice.”
“Counseling officers is part of a Khan’s duties. If your meteoric rise continues then you may need to provide it in the future,” the dark-skinned woman said unemotionally. She produced a data chip and handed it to Ace. “The Watch’s latest data on DCMS troop movements. I would be interested in what you expect us to face on Luthien.”
Inserting it into the appropriate slot on his desk, Ace brought up the files on the display so they could both see the worlds around Luthien, dotted with unit markers and indicators of how reliable the information was considered. Lines linked multiple sightings of a unit, providing a guide to their movements. Adjusting the controls, Ace ran a program that compared the data to the slightly older files already in his possession, highlighting the updates.
One line stood out to him, passing through the very same star system they were in. “We have not engaged the Genyosha so far as I am aware… they were on Wolcott?”
Sennet nodded. “The DCMS falsified their response to my batchall and claimed they were fielding two inexperienced regiments designated as Yuutsu - whatever that means.” Her demeanor cracked slightly, showing irritation. “Once we uncovered the deception, I deployed reinforcements and we drove them off world. Fortunately I had elected not to engage them on their chosen battlefield. If I had taken losses comparable to those on Pesht, we might have had to ask the Ghost Bears for aid on Luthien.”
“It is an option,” Ace said absently as he brought up more detailed information and saw that the jumpships and dropships that had carried the Genyosha’s remaining strength - estimated as half of the original two regiments - away from Wolcott had been seen at Cyrenaica’s jump point, departing before anyone could attempt an interception. “It seems likely that the Genyosha continued to Luthien, but I will need to alert Star Colonel Clarke in case that is not the case.”
She waited while he typed up a quick message.
“I should have known without you telling me,” Ace admitted once he had sent the warning.
“In this case I cannot blame you or your incomplete staff. The Watch officer gathering the information assumed that I would be taking command directly and forwarded the data to me instead.” Sennet pursed her lips. “We cannot afford such mistakes over Luthien, quineg?”
“Neg,” Ace admitted. “Allowing for the Genyosha, I expect that we will face a minimum of six regiment-equivalents of ‘battlemechs and five times that in infantry and armor. Most likely significantly more than that.”
“Half again the forces on Pesht would not require more than two Galaxies,” the Khan calculated. “The uncertainty justifies bringing our full forces. The question I have is whether contracting additional Ghost Bear clusters is required.”
“The forces I’m sure we will face are two reinforced regiments of the Sword of Light and the Coordinator’s bodyguard unit, the Otomo.” He indicated the markers on the display. “Combine media has reported a ‘mech unit called the Dragon Claws that we have no prior data on, and there must be some battlemechs among their planetary militia, one battalion is the lowest likely figure but it could be three times as much. Adding the Genyosha means eighteen battalions of ‘mechs.” He paused. “It’s likely that other bloodied units have retreated to Luthien to refit - the industrial base supports it.”
“Fortunately none escaped Pesht,” Sennet noted. “You believe we should contract for support, quiaff?”
“Neg,” Ace told her.
She tilted her head slightly. “I do not believe you are basing this on a refusal to share the glory.”
“There will be enough glory on Luthien for three Clans,” Ace replied. “But even with the threat to their capital, the DCMS are trying to slow us down with deployments to the worlds we are currently fighting for. There are two regiments here on Cyrenaica that could have been sent to Luthien instead. The Ghost Bears are also engaging in battles with significant forces. This tells me that the Combine’s strategists are not willing to sacrifice the rest of their worlds to hold Luthien - they will fight for it but they are balancing their concern against losing other worlds. With the Ghost Bears advancing on Xinyang, a prefectural capital, they will tie up regiments that could otherwise be sent to Luthien.”
“Normally,” Sennet said slowly, “I would expect a single Cluster to be a match for a Battlemech regiment and support. Given we are striking with fifteen Clusters, Luthien is not a normal world though. Your projections suggest that we should expect a twenty-five percent incremental advantage to the defenders compared to other worlds.”
Ace nodded. “Their logistical support will be excellent, we must assume greater than normal militia, and whatever Star League era equipment they have would logically be available. If we face fifty regiments, twelve of them equipped with battlemechs, then I would consider the matter evenly matched. Even victory would be costly at that point.”
“But worthwhile.”
“There is an ancient axiom of warfare: the moral is to the physical as three is to one,” Ace informed the Khan. “Taking Luthien would be a moral victory that would shake the Combine. They have lost worlds to outside enemies before, but they endured and they fought back - the Fourth Succession War, followed by the War of 3039 for example. But no one has ever taken Luthien.”
Sennet nodded. “And if the Combine’s forces exceed those numbers?”
He shrugged. “Then we withdraw, blockade the world with our warships and leave a tenth of the Combine’s striking power trapped and irrelevant as we take the rest of their industrial heartlands. It is not ideal, but House Kurita must fight for Luthien, whereas we have a choice.”
“Speaking of House Kurita,” she observed, “The Watch have also picked up recent Combine propaganda. It appears that the genetic offspring of their… I will not try to pronounce it, their saKhan equivalent?”
“It translates to Deputy for Military Affairs.”
Sennet pursed her lips. “Easier on the tongue. They show footage of this offspring carrying out bondsref with your assistance.”
Ace blinked. “I do not recall ever encountering a Kurita. I gave bondsref to an officer of the Legion of Vega on Turtle Bay. It is a matter of record, quiaff?”
“Aff,” the Khan told him. “We have compared their recording to ours and it is clear that the Combine footage has been doctored to show him identifying himself as Hohiro Kurita. The Watch analysts do not believe they would accept the loss of face in reporting a member of House Kurita as dead unless it was so. Under their succession rules, this was the second-in-line to the Coordinator.”
A groan of frustration escaped Ace. “So it is most likely true.”
“Aff.” Sennet agreed. “He would have been valuable as a source of intelligence. You could not have known that they would be deceptive in identifying themselves, but in future do not grant bondsref before checking for other value.”
“I will not.”
“For most of the Clan, the fact that you defeated one of the Successor Houses’ offspring will be to your credit,” she continued. “Clan Jade Falcon has failed twice to kill or capture the heir to the Federated Commonwealth. However, it is likely you will be a priority target for the DCMS during the Luthien battle. Their warriors would gain great honor by avenging this Hohiro Kurita. You intend to deploy with the Twenty-First Assault Cluster, quiaff?”
“Aff.” Ace shrugged. “As you said, changing the command structure too much is disruptive.”
“You may wish to choose another ‘mech. A lone Stormcrow surrounded by heavy and assault designs is recognisable and losing another Galaxy Commander would be disruptive.”
“Piloting an unfamiliar ‘mech might be just as debilitating,” he said. “Besides, we are already short on equipment. Claiming a new omnimech for myself when I am drawing on stocks of garrison equipment to bring Alpha up to strength would not endear me to the warriors.”
“Perhaps not,” Sennet allowed. “This Twenty-Seventh Cruiser Cluster you are forming is barely a proper Cluster as it is, and that is before the warriors are considered.”
Ace made a face. “I am in no position to complain about the origins of a warrior. It would smack of hypocrisy.”
The Khan snorted. “Now that the Ghost Bears’ clusters have arrived, a dropship carrying newly graduated warriors is being sent. The supply chains should have them reach the near Periphery by the end of the year, but they will not arrive before Luthien fought.”
“We will need more warriors,” Ace said simply.
“Aff. I have ordered the scientists to double the number of trueborn sibkos being created, but since we cannot wait twenty years,” Sennet noted with what might have been a hint of humor, “I have ordered testing of civilian youths to join freeborn sibkos. Even their training will take at least four years, and warriors serving as training officers are not available to fight now. It is unfortunate that Ian Hawker did not begin this when the Invasion was decided, but even if he had they would not yet be fit for battle.”
Ace considered the personnel who were filling out the Twenty-Seventh Cruiser Cluster. Besides a cadre of Diamondskate survivors and transfers from the other three Clusters would be a mix of retired warriors pulled out of the invasion’s civilian support staff and -“
“Your use of bondsmen is another risk,” the Khan told him. “A matter already being talked about. Normally we would expect the bondcord to be cut before they were allowed to serve as warriors. The Clan Council has not yet debated the matter only because we have not held a full meeting since the elections. If you do not trust them enough to cut the cords, how can you trust them when fighting their former comrades.”
“It is a calculated risk,” he admitted. “I have placed only one per point and their commanders have been told to cut the cords and make them very welcome once we enter the Luthien system. My hope is that this will lead them to believe that they have come too far among the Clans to back down, while not giving them the time for second thoughts.”
Sennet looked doubtful. “You are correct that we need every warrior that we can find, which is the only reason that I will allow it. You will be held to account if this backfires.”
“Of course.”
“I am not referring just to your current rank being at stake.”
Ace smiled ruefully. “The Clan Council will have their chance at my head only if I survive Luthien. And if the bondsmen cause problems there is some chance I will not live to face the Council.”
The Khan conceded the point. “I hope you are correct. It might have been better to blood them against the DCMS here, but the decision is yours.” She paused. “My next concern is that we have received a message from House Kurita.”
“What sort of message?”
Sennet pushed off from the chair, drifting towards the end of the desk. “It seems that the Ghost Bears made them an offer: rules of engagement that would preclude the use of orbital fire and other weapons of mass destruction by either side. It appears that Takashi Kurita has accepted their terms and now offers us the same. It would require all warships to remain far enough from planets that there is not even the appearance of threatening to use orbital fire.”
“After the debacle on Rasalhague,” Ace mused, “Any use of orbital fire support would be looked on poorly. The Clan already agreed that it would be used only by agreement of all Galaxy Commanders. It would seem that this requires us to give up very little.”
“It does. Of course, if the Combine then breaks this agreement - which in desperation, they might, then our ability to launch retaliation strikes would be limited.”
Ace shook his head. “Neg. The expectation of bringing warships close for orbital strikes is based on using energy weapons or needing to be close enough to deploy them with tactical awareness. If the need is only deterrent then firing bombardment shells and missiles from further away is simply a targeting solution against a predictable location - a minor mathematical challenge. House Kurita can hardly move the planet - or more to the point, move the industrial facilities. If they keep to their terms, well and good. If not, we can at least deny them the ‘mechs, tanks and dropships being built on Luthien. It would take them longer to replace those than it will take us to rebuild from combat losses.”
Yamashiro, New Samarkand
Galedon Military District, Draconis Combine
5 December 3050
The Old Palace in Yamashiro was the not the same building that Shiro Kurita, the founder of the Draconis Combine, had ruled from. Minoru Kurita knew that many school children were taught that it was, but the original palace complex had become home to the Von Rohrs dynasty, who ruled the Combine for almost ninety years.
When the Von Rohrs were brought down by Martin McAllister, descended of the original House Kurita, the new Coordinator had feared that the adherents of his paranoid and treacherous cousins might use hidden passages through it to overthrow him in turn. Thus he’d ordered the first palace torn apart, brick by brick and the entire site dug out until every secret was uncovered.
Only then had he (and his brilliant daughter Siriwan) constructed the current palace on the same site. With their own hidden passages and other secrets, naturally.
Still, the Old Palace was over five centuries old. Its construction was closer to the first interstellar flight than it was to the modern day. Minoru found it curiously dreamlike at times - or rather, as if the Imperial City or even Luthien had never been anything but a dream and that now House Kurita had awoken to the reality of the old capital. It was an impression furthered by the bureaucrats who bustled around, busy establishing themselves to take over the governance of the Combine if it proved necessary. Well, those who were not simply trying to look busy.
Instructing at Sun Zhang wasn’t taking much of his time. The academy staff understood that he wasn’t really there for that - although, oddly Minoru did find it quite pleasant. If he had the time he’d been tempted to resume training with the kendo team.
But instead he was in a tower of the palace, perhaps sitting right where Siriwan Kurita once had, listening to advisors as if he was his grandfather, albeit without the actual authority of being the Coordinator.
It had occurred to him more than once that he might have that authority soon, and he wasn’t sure how he would handle that. Or how the courtiers would handle it. Hopefully he wouldn’t have to find out.
“Tono,” one of the military officers said politely. “There are new updates on the troop deployments along the Draconis March.”
“Show me,” he ordered and gestured to indicate the main display in the middle of the table.
The holo-projector whirred to life and lit up with the familiar red and gold map of the border between the Draconis Combine and the Federated Commonwealth. While the officer had only mentioned the Draconis March, the Skye March and portions of the adjoining marches was also displayed and unit markers began to pop up.
There was a hiss from one of the officers, pointing at the display. “What are the Wolf Dragoons doing?”
Minoru looked at Outreach. Previously all but one of the mercenary regiments had been based on Outreach, but now the markers for Alpha Regiment, Zeta Battalion and the Black Widow Battalion had moved off with sightings reported on Bryant and Caph. Worlds significantly closer to the borders of the Combine.
“What is the nature of the reports,” Minoru asked thoughtfully.
The representative of the ISF checked the file. “Communications intercepts, sir. Dropships carrying them were passing through those systems, they didn’t land.”
“It’s a stab in the back,” one of the lords declared. (Not that being a lord was very distinctive. Everyone in the court, down to the cleaners, had a title of some kind). Minoru thought this one was a functionary in the treasury. He hadn’t said anything intelligent enough to catch attention yet, but he might have just said something foolish. “Wolf has shown his true colors and is resuming his feud with House Kurita now that our guard is down!”
Emil Kane, who represented the education ministry, stroked his beard. “Wolf is a Clanner,” he said judiciously. “Is it possible he seeks to rejoin his comrades?”
Before any panic could begin, Minoru removed his spectacles and began to polish them absently. “Are any of the other Dragoon regiments moving?”
“No, tono.”
“Hmm. So you think Jaime Wolf has decided to launch an attack on us with - let us call it a quarter of his forces? Interesting theory.” He replaced his glasses and looked around the room. “There is enough force there to affect a world or two, but not the entire Combine. I do not see the logic in such a move.”
Brigadier Fuhito Tetsuhara cleared his throat. “If Wolf is carrying out such an attack without the support of Hanse Davion, he would not succeed for long. Indeed, it is possible that it would be seen as rebellion against the First Prince. I doubt Davion desires to have to fight the Clans on two fronts so it suits his purposes for now that the Combine can afford to reduce the regiments facing him.”
“You make a good point,” allowed Kane thoughtfully. “But what if Davion is indeed backing this?” Or if the Draconis March is working independently?
“Do we have evidence to support either of these?” Minoru enquired mildly.
Eyes went back to the display of data. Along the border there remained regiment after regiment of the AFFC. Old enemies, facing what had long been one of the most fiercely fought over borders in the entire Succession Wars. And yet… readiness figures were down. Supply estimates lower than normal, training exercises canceled. Five regimental combat teams were marked as moving towards the Terran Corridor, but all were well back from the border and their routes and schedules had been shared openly with the Combine, merely being confirmed by ISF sources: they were part of the ongoing transfers of units towards the Clan front.
“Either we have been penetrated on a breathtaking level,” the ISF analyst concluded, “Or there is no evidence of hostile activity.”
“So, the Dragoons are not moving in their full force, and if they are intent on attacking they will do so without the support of Steiner or Davion,” Minoru concluded. “How puzzling.”
He knew from his father’s advice that this was expected, but that was not something he could say. After all, the reason was not - as far as he knew - shared with his grandfather yet. And anyone here might feel obliged to report it.
“We are over four hundred light years away,” Fuhito observed. “Whatever it is, this is no threat to us here. And if Wolf can somehow deliver himself to the Clan front in less than two months, I would be interested in knowing how.”
“Pre-positioned jumpships to ferry himself to Luthien and turn the tide against us!” predicted the treasury official. “The small number of jumpship collars for the transit is why only part of his force is moving - the rest will follow.
“Calm yourself, Okuda-san,” the general counseled.
Minoru chuckled quietly. Okuda, he thought. Best to remember that he is not too informed of military affairs. “If Wolf were rejoining the Clans, he would be seeking out Clan Wolf, not Clan Diamond Shark,” he observed. “In this matter we will show patience and allow the matter to unfold. The Warlords of Dieron and Benjamin will be as aware of this matter as we are. It is their duty to handle the immediate responses.”
He indicated the map. “Since the strategic situation here is unchanged, let us return to the educational matters being debated. Lord Kane, you had thoughts on revisiting how General Kerensky’s exodus is taught to our young people.”
Kane bowed. “Indeed, tono. The decision to depart from the Inner Sphere is something we have historically presented as virtuous - the general of the SLDF choosing to retire from the fray once his war against Amaris had been completed. However, we now know that he was laying the groundwork for this new invasion. It is important that the people understand that this is not a glorious return of a hero’s heirs, but instead a betrayal of the ancient oaths of the SLDF.”
“I think you underestimate the people’s wits,” Fuhito murmured. “Surely it would be simpler to say that beyond the reach of the Dragon’s guidance, the generations that came after the Great General Kerensky have fallen into error?”
“Given the number of worlds that have fallen to the Clans without effective resistance by the populace, I disagree.” Kane stroked his beard again. “Too many are co-operating with these invaders - we must prepare the children so that they grow up knowing the devils that they are dealing with!”
The young Kurita sighed inwardly. Emotionally, he preferred Fuhito’s position, but Kane made a good point. Taking a leaf from his grandfather’s book, he refrained from commenting as the debate went on. Let them talk the matter out - good ideas might present themselves… and in any case, the real decision would be made on Luthien.
It would be made on Luthien.
Minoru very much hoped it would be made on Luthien, because from the taste of rulership he was getting right now, it was a bitter draught. That alas, was a decision that most definitely would be made on Luthien, and not by him.
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Tairakana Plains, Luthien
Pesht, Military District, Draconis Combine
5 December 3050
Ace’s first sight of Luthien was a brilliant blue sky seen through the hatch of a dropship as he marched his Stormcrow out. They’d landed in one of the equatorial regions of Hokkaido, the largest continent on the planet, which was pleasantly warm. Luthien was a relatively cool planet and the vast majority of the desirable territory was between the tropics. Naturally, this was where House Kurita had sited their Imperial City and thus it was where the Diamond Sharks had landed.
As the Stormcrow strode out, Ace saw the perimeter guard around the landing zone - a mix of older battlemechs belonging to Omega Galaxy. Some were lightly scorched or had minor damage - but it was not from weapons fire. He knew that unlike the other three Galaxies, Omega had carried out a combat drop from orbit to secure the landing zone.
“Alpha Galaxy,” he ordered into his microphone. “All units are to offer salute to Omega Galaxy as we pass by them.”
A moment later, a private channel opened from Michel. “I accept the order, but why would a frontline unit salute a garrison force?”
Ace thought that it was at least a step forward that Michel hadn’t openly said he objected to saluting freeborn warriors. “Omega Galaxy took all the risks so far. If Khan Vewas had run into overwhelming resistance, he would have ordered the landing to break off and his Galaxy would have had to fight alone unless we could link up from a secondary site. Most likely they’d have died, without anywhere to repair or resupply it would have just been a matter of time and how many of the Combine’s forces they took with them.”
“Thank you for instructing me, Galaxy Commander.” Michel’s Warhawk raised one arm in salute to the nearest Omega Galaxy star. Ace saw the Guillotine that was probably the star’s commander return the salute hesitantly.
Without any real pause, the four Clusters formed up - Ace led the Twenty-First as the spearhead, following the flank of Kappa Spina Galaxy head. It had been agreed that Jeremy Hawker’s newly formed galaxy would lead the advance for the first day. The logic was the same as dropping Omega Galaxy - the nature of the defense was not yet known and it was best for any surprises to fall on Kappa Spina first.
With that said, Ace had the Twenty-Seventh Cruiser Cluster tucked in close behind his own Cluster. If Jeremy Hawker needed support then half of Alpha Galaxy would be able to move up quickly to provide it - and off to the north, Gamma Galaxy would be doing the same. Heavy casualties to Kappa Spina would be manageable but were not to be desired at all.
The rest of Alpha Galaxy brought up the rear, the Thirty-Ninth Striker Cluster providing a screening force against the desert to the south while the Nineteenth Heavy Cluster covered the rear and provided escort for the convoy of support vehicles - medical vans, recovery vehicles, ammo trucks and dozens of other functions that would normally be centered on the dropships.
It would be a long march, over a thousand kilometers separated the landing site from the Imperial City. The city itself, as well as the industrial cities east of the Urizen Mountains, had formidable air defenses that made landing nearby far too hazardous. Heavy missile batteries there were already lobbing cruise missiles over the mountains - Ace could see contrails in the air - that had to be intercepted by Clan aerospace fighters. If one of them got through, it might cripple a dropship. Risking that happening during the landing would have been unacceptable.
In theory, the majority of the combat units could have crossed the Tairahana plain to reach the northern end of the Urizen mountains and transverse the Kado-Guchi valley that divided the range from the more northerly Kiyomari mountains in a single day - but that was traveling as the Snow Raven flew, without regard for difficult terrain, roads that were less than direct or fighting through opposition. Besides that, not even all of the combat units could maintain that pace, much less the support vehicles.
Ace thought it might take four days, and had his troops cram their cockpits with supplies. It was telling that the ‘mechs best suited for this were the handful of salvaged and upgraded DCMS battlemechs. The Panthers and Grand Dragons had larger cockpits, with better facilities than most of the Omnimechs. It was a design point Ace had drawn attention to but it wasn’t going to make any difference in the near term.
While he was asking for improvements, he’d asked if the Panthers could be rebuilt with better reactors - they were no faster than Warhawks that were fifty tons heavier. The response to that one had been quick - the only suitable reactors available would be those used in the Adder omnimech, which the Diamond Sharks would have to trade for and then ship to the Inner Sphere - and even then the gyro would need to be replaced, along with other changes. Ace got the impression this wasn’t the first time that the question or a similar one had been asked so he let that idea drop and hoped that the lack of a similar answer about cockpit capacity was a better sign.
More contrails marked the air as aerospace fighters fought their own engagements well out of reach of either side. The DCA pilots were trying to disrupt the aerospace coverage of the landing site so that more missiles could penetrate, while the Diamond Sharks were determinedly winnowing down the potential threats to the orbitals.
After an hour, Ace rotated the lead elements of the Cluster and moved to the back of the formation. Kappa Spina had bowled through an outer layer of militia defenders without any need for help, and the necessary attention to possible threats was wearing.
From his new position he could see the dark-blue ‘mechs of the Twenty-Seventh Cruiser Cluster, marked with yellow birds beneath the shark emblem of Alpha Galaxy. His communications system lit up, indicating that one of the ‘mechs was trying to establish a private comm-channel.
He accepted the call. Why not? “Ace Enders.”
“Sir.” It was a woman’s voice, slightly familiar to him. “This is…” She broke off awkwardly.
“Yes?”
“I did not get a chance to say this before we landed. Thank you for approving my transfer to Alpha Galaxy. I guess I made the wrong call about you.”
Ace was puzzled for a moment and checked the source. A Star Commander named… oh. It was Val, a freeborn from the sibko he’d joined briefly. “Honestly, Val, I did not request you for the Twenty-Seventh. We had little choice but to take whoever was available.”
“Ah.”
“I would not have refused your transfer,” he added. “It may seem odd for me to say this, but I know that promotions do not come easily for freeborn warriors. Earning the command of your Star cannot have been easy.”
“Compared to what you have accomplished?” Val sounded amused. “It would be wrong to thank you for killing the Khan, however he treated freeborn warriors. Some thought that he kept you around just to pretend that he was not prejudiced.”
Ace chuckled. “He never pretended that in my hearing. He tolerated me because I was useful, nothing more. And that isn’t why we fought.”
“I know. But you giving us chances like this… that counts for a lot.”
“There will be many more freeborn warriors in the future,” he told. “The Clan needs them. And we will recruit from the worlds we are occupying. There is little choice.” Then he made a face. “If they see that freeborn warriors are not being given a fair chance then how can they expect to have opportunities to rise.”
Val paused in thought. “I see your thinking. Well, you gave me a chance when I did not. So… I will give them a chance.”
“I bear you no grievance, Val.” He paused. “Perhaps after the battle, we can exchange stories.”
“I would be glad to… you were, quite angry at the time, quiaff.”
Ace chuckled. “Aff. I was worried about Antonia.”
The other freeborn warrior sounded amused. “And not by the trial of position, quineg?”
“Neg. Remember, I had been blooded before. I knew, well I thought I knew what I was getting into there.” He shook his head in the cockpit. “Losing a friend was a little more concerning.”
“You heard that they found her?”
“I had,” he said shortly. Forty miles down river, quite dead. What a waste.
The other warrior hesitated. “We grew up in the same enclave. I had hoped to be partnered with her for the trial.”
“So did I. She was a good friend.”
“Is that what they called it where you came from?” Val asked. “You certainly coupled enough.”
“We did not!” he exclaimed indignantly.
“...you spent half your time off alone with her.”
“We were studying,” Ace told her. “My education was a bit uneven. I needed the help.”
“Well now I feel like even more of a fool,” Val admitted.
Another ping on his comm told Ace it was time to pay more attention to his duties. “I am being called. Later, Val.”
He cut the comm abruptly and accepted the invite into the Galaxy Commanders’ channel. “Enders here.”
“There has been an update from orbit,” Bikendi Vewas informed him tersely. The saKhan was still back at the dropsite although his Clusters would be called forwards as needed to support the advance. “Four Combine jumpships have arrived at the proximity point created by one of the moons.” Luthien had four moons, meaning that such points were unstable but frequent. “Nine dropships are heading for the far side of the Urizen mountains. It appears that the enemy are being reinforced.”
“What types?” Jeremy Hawker asked crisply.
“Seven Overlord-class dropships, two Union-class. Assuming they are configured for battlemechs, we can expect at least two additional regiments.”
Ace bit back a curse. They already knew that one of the Legion of Vega regiments was on planet, further reinforcing the garrison. Two more ‘mech regiments was bringing the level of opposition close to an effective parity.
“We can assume nothing.” Barbara Sennet was as cool as ever. “This could be real or a bluff. What are the chances of interception?”
“Limited. They have forty aerospace fighters of their own and as many more have been launched to escort them in,” the saKhan reported. “The good news is that fighter presence contesting our own is reduced by that obligation.”
Sennet paused a moment. “Have our own fighters press the advantage and push as far out from our positions as possible. Kills would be welcome, but intelligence on the enemy disposition will be more so. We must know what we are facing.”
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I'd say the fur is gonna fly now, but neither sharks nor dragons really have fur, so...the scales are gonna fly now?
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Bloody for sure! :o
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Minoru is good at this. If Luthien falls, the Combine could do a lot worse than having him in charge (assuming he can retain power in face of the warlords).
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The Warlords that survive? My money is on Minoru... 8)
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Ace will surely be target of headhunting missions, as will be Khan Sennet, we haven't heard of DEST doing any strikes on high ranking officers so far (as they did OTL) so they will probably try it now. It looks like Sharks are not splitting off forces for secondary targets, which along with no bidding and less time for defenders to prepare helps the Sharks immensely. Still, it will be very tough fight, especially once the defenders are pushed into urban areas.
dark-blue ‘mechs of the Twenty-Seventh Cruiser Cluster, marked with yellow birds beneath the shark emblem of Alpha Galaxy.
I'm sure that little detail will go swimmingly with Dracs.
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The Warlords that survive? My money is on Minoru... 8)
Speaking of surviving... I wouldn´t put it past either Takashi or Theodore to have given the Nekekami orders to kill certain troublesome individuals in case they both die on Luthien.
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The clan warship should have covered the near jump points for the world and intercepted any arriving dropships.
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You can't cover proximity points unless you park your warships almost within the orbit. After Jaguar ortillery temper tantrum, such manoeuvring would cause immediate nuclear response
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Opalescent Reflections
Interludes from the Black Pearl
Tairahana Plains and Kado-Guchi Valley, Luthien
Pesht District, Draconis Combine
5 December 3050
As he watched the command center bustle, Takashi Kurita tried to remember when he’d last commanded from a room like that. Not ten years ago, no. Nor in the Ronin War. There had been no threat to Luthien in either of those wars. He had received reports in the Black Room, buried deep beneath the palace, never needing the facilities to directly commend the garrison.
It might have been since the last months of the Fourth Succession War, he thought. Unless you counted exercises intended to show off the garrison and keep some sharpness beneath the capital’s polish, which he did not.
No, Takashi thought. I have not gone to war since I took charge of the frontlines in 3029. And now war has come looking for me.
The thought pleased the octogenarian. Close to five decades on the throne, but beneath it he was still the soldier of his youth. And it had come before he was unable to pilot a battlemech, which was a mercy.
The Coordinator of the Draconis Combine was drawn out of his reverie as one of the uniformed technicians - soldiers in their own way, he admitted - stood. “Sir. New arrivals at Point Ko.”
The man was not looking at Takashi, all eyes went to his son. Theodore was either finally learning to hide surprise from his father or… the old man frowned. No, the boy expected this. (Man, he corrected himself. Theodore was not the eager child or rebellious youth any more). Good. Very good. Theodore was in his element, a superb general. If he fell short in other ways, there was always that.
The Gunji-no-Kanrei returned the technician’s look. “Are they identified?”
“...yes.”
“Then show us,” Theodore said crisply. “Show us all.”
The technician went to the controls and a moment later, the holo display brought up unit markers at the jump point. The room went dead quiet and now all eyes went to Takashi, who felt the blood thunder in his ears.
Them? Them now? The only thing that snapped him back from a red rage was the whiter fury that chilled his soul. Theodore had known! Theodore had known!
The old man did not take his eyes off the red and black markers, the colors of the Combine but used for very different heraldry. The Wolf Dragoons - Alpha Regiment, Zeta Battalion, the - damn her - Black Widow. And beside them, the Kell Hounds. On the rare occasions he had nothing else to do, Takashi sometimes debated which he hated more - the one who had humiliated him in front of the entire Inner Sphere, or the one who had destroyed his cousin.
When he was sure that nothing but steel would show on his face and voice, he asked: “You calculated for this.”
He saw Theodore consider further explanation, but the boy - the man, damn him! - finally settled on a simple, “I did.”
“Why don’t you just shoot me?”
A pin could have dropped in the room and everyone would have heard it. That was not something that could be joked about. Unless, of course, you were him.
A rule Theodore broke, as he had so often. “Well, it seems rude to deny a mechwarrior of your caliber a chance to fight the Sharks.”
Takashi drew back his lips from his teeth. “Your manners are shocking.” And then, because there was nothing else he could do - save for a sin his wife would never forgive him for when they were reunited - he gestured towards the Kanrei’s office. “Very well. You have had your fun. Now you will explain this to me properly. Without interruption or exception.”
He turned and led his son to the side-room. No one could make him this angry. Not Kell. Not Wolf. Only his son. Only Jasmine’s boy.
As tempting as it was to round on Theodore once the door closed, he instead simply laid claim to the seat behind the desk. “What do you intend with them?”
Lips quirked and then his son told him: “I will bleed them out fighting our enemies, praise them to the skies and use their service to justify hiring the mercenaries we desperately need.”
That was… He shook his head. “You know why I gave orders on that matter.”
“And perhaps at the time it was the correct choice,” Theodore observed without any particular conviction. “But now? I have hidden none of our losses from you. And, win or lose, the price we pay here will add to that. Our numbers - particularly for battlemechs - are limited. Without mercenaries, the Combine may not survive. Against that, what does your pride matter?”
Takashi watched him levelly for a long moment and then nodded. “Perhaps you are ready to be Coordinator. I have my doubts, but I have trusted you thus far and you have not disappointed me recently. I make you no promises if I meet them though. Keep them away and know that none of the praises you would pay will be from me.”
His boy smiled slightly “I know. The first real defensive line will be attacked soon, but it should hold long enough to move them forward to join the second. Meanwhile, your Dragon’s Claws are our final reserve. Avoid them as they pass through to the battle and…” He shrugged. “Well, Jaime Wolf and Morgan Kell are fine mechwarriors, but neither is immortal.”
“Wolf no.” Takashi frowned. “Kell I am less certain of.” Then a cheery thought struck him: of Clan warriors in their superior war machines trying to land shots on the phantom that was Morgan Kell. “Very well, boy. Carry on. I am an old man. I will take my rest until the two of them have gone west to join the battle. Tomorrow can wait until the next dawn.”
6 December 3050
Khan Barbara Sennet watched the medical teams working, removing wounded warriors from their equipment so that technicians could begin work on recovering the battered equipment. A supernova trinary - fifteen omnimechs and seventy-five elementals - of the Sixth Strike Cluster had been reduced to a battered six Omnimechs and eight Elementals, all of them in need of repairs to their equipment.
“Your report,” she asked calmly.
“My Khan, it would be easier to show you,” the Star Colonel admitted, offering her a data chip. “The Star Captain’s BattleROM, extracted from what is left of her cockpit.”
Barbara gave him a look and decided that it was not an excuse. She accepted the chip and inserted it into hand comp, raising the device so she had a good look at the screen. The files had been annotated with a timestamp code, about two hours previous. Activating it, she saw what the Star Captain had from the cockpit of her Ice Ferret.
Ahead there were a mass of Inner Sphere battlemechs, more than thirty of them - reactors hot but holding position. Weapons fire began to lash out from either side, the range dropping rapidly as the Diamond Sharks rushed in, a text-book assault. The Combine mechwarriors held their ground - most ‘mechs even trying to evade. Barbara’s eyes narrowed in suspicion. Even if she was not aware that this had been a trap, that should have been a warning.
What followed was a text-book close assault from a supernova trinary, the fast light and medium omnimechs closing in to deliver their Elemental comrades before they swept out to outflank the slower and more numerous enemies.
Unfortunately, someone appeared to have read the same text-book. The Elementals leapt into the thick of the enemy formation, taking advantage of the ‘mechs that were immobile, and then, as the Ice Ferret turned away, torso twisting so that at least one arm’s weapons could bear and the rear armor wasn’t fully exposed, there were explosions and reports of leg damage.
A minefield covering the rear and flanks, Barbara noted. The defenders had held their position specifically to lure her warriors into it.
The Ice Ferret stumbled but the mechwarrior managed to keep it upright, limping clear with less agility than it should have had - ankle damage, most likely. Most of them were similarly damaged, one Fire Moth had fallen and didn’t follow.
And then the DCMS ‘mechs began to explode. Elementals were flung in all directions, sometimes missing limbs.
A handful of the heavier battlemechs continued to fight, armor damaged but still combat capable. The Star Captain was screaming orders, the fourteen remaining omnimechs no longer outnumbered but for the most part they had lost their speed advantage.
It was not a slaughter for either side… and on relatively even terms, the Diamond Sharks were winning before a battered UrbanMech in the red and grey of the Second Legion of Vega managed to score a hit on the Ice Ferret’s cockpit with its autocannon and the recording came to an end.
Barbara took a moment to consider what she had seen. “The false ‘mechs?” she enquired.
“As far as we can tell, agromech chassis with armor plating to give them the appearance of battlemechs,” the Star Colonel explained. “Between the armor and the chassis they packed explosives… You saw the result.”
“Aff. And the aftermath?”
“A battalion of Combine tanks tried to close in to support the actual battlemechs - fortunately, an aerospace star was close enough to pin them at choke points until reinforcements could arrive.” The officer regained a little of his swagger. “They were torn apart of course.”
The Khan considered that and then turned to the senior medic. “What are the losses?”
“We were fortunate, there are only seventeen fatalities among the elementals and three among the mechwarriors.”
She shook her head. “And how many will be fit for battle in the next forty-eight hours?” Barbara doubted any would be fit without at least some rest - and that assumed that their wargear would be repaired by then.
The medic checked her notes. “That soon? Eight mechwarriors, including those still active and thirteen elementals. The others will mostly be fit to return to battle in weeks, not days.” She shook her head. “It is likely some will never return to combat status.”
The supernova trinary, a sixth of the entire Cluster, was effectively out of the battle for Luthien. It had cost the DCMS some time and effort, a company of ‘mechs and a battalion of tanks. That was an unsupportable exchange, Barbara concluded.
“Circulate instructions to the touman to be wary of such traps,” she instructed her aide. “It is unlikely that the same will be tried again, it is too obvious once we know what to look for. But it is the mindset we must be wary of,”
Victory in battle, she had been taught, was much like victory in commerce. One must comprehend the mind that one faced across the battlefield. Barbara admitted that such empathy did not come easily to her, it was a skill she had to hone - but the rewards when she managed it had proved that the lesson was true.
Now she thought she had some understanding of the mind across the battlefield.
And she disliked what she saw, as much as she admired the ruthlessness of it.
“How are your munition expenditures?” she asked the Star Colonel. “Proportionate to projections.”
“Uh,” the man hesitated - in thought, not obfuscation. “I do not have an exact number without checking. Higher by twenty or thirty percent depending on type, as of this morning.”
“I suspected as much.” Barbara nodded crisply. This was a battle of attrition. A missile fired that hit a worthless target, a ‘mech or warrior disabled just long enough that they could not contribute further to this battle. Diversion after barrier after ambush - the Diamond Shark path was predictable and the enemy desired to slow them down, to cost them just enough that it was unacceptable to continue.
She turned sharply and walked away, gesturing to her aide. “Instructions to all technicians in the force,” she told him abruptly.
“My Khan.” The young warrior had a noteputer ready.
“All omnimechs returned for repair are to be switched to loadouts favoring energy weapons wherever the available pods allow. This is my order, overriding the preferences of individual warriors. I will allow exceptions for Streak launchers and Gauss Rifles.” The former rarely wasted shots, and the latter’s ammunition was ludicrously easy to replace. “This battle will be won through endurance, and the touman’s - neg. The clan’s success will rest upon the efforts of our technicians as much it does on the warrior. The enemy believes that their technicians can keep their warriors in the field longer than we can do the same - I know that like our merchants and our warriors, our technicians are second to none. I have faith that they will carry the Diamond Sharks to victory, as they have before.” She paused. “Repeat that for me.”
The aide complied and Barbara considered her own words. Not really an inspiring speech worthy of a great Khan… but it conveyed her message. “Send it,” she instructed and headed back to her ‘mech. Reports indicated that elements of the Wolf Dragoons had begun skirmishing with the advance and with Gamma Galaxy in the lead today, she wanted to be available to coordinate the push past Basin Lake.
7 December 3050
Morgan Kell was feeling his age as he moved his Archer carefully through the marked paths through the forward resupply base. He’d spent the night here, with technicians working through the night repair damage taken the previous day, returned partway through the day to reload and now he was back for the same purpose.
As the rest of Second Battalion, First Kell Hounds filed into the camp, the old mechwarrior was the only one who followed the paddle signals from men and women on the ground to go directly to ammunition stores. Everyone else was directed towards the repair bays - little more than scaffolding where the technicians drafted from Luthien Armor Works could cut away damaged armor plates and weld new ones into place - or to the monorail station that anchored the entire facility, where the worst damaged ‘mechs would be moved back towards the city.
There were fewer trucks and loader mechs than he remembered from earlier. He saw one of the latter bustling towards the monorail carrying a pallet of repair tools and realized that the most valuable equipment was being removed before the site was abandoned.
At the current pace of fighting, the Diamond Sharks would be into the Kadoguchi Valley by morning.
“No damage again, Tai-sa Kell?” one of the technicians enquired respectfully through a loudhailer.
Morgan thumbed his own speakers. “None.” He wasn’t completely sure that the man even knew that the Kell Hounds were mercenaries and not simply some obscure DCMS command. The Combine tended to tell their people only what they needed to know, and the tale of he and Yorinaga Kurita’s duels was not one that reflected well on House Kurita.
“Fantastic! I am sure you have defeated many of the invaders!” the young man called brightly. “Bay three please. We shall have a full missile load waiting for you.”
Morgan checked the cheatsheet he’d taped to one of his consoles and then moved towards the light framework marked with the japanese glyph for three. Far more fragile than that used in the repair bays, it served only to support a canvas cover that sheltered the ‘mech from the sun (and aerial surveillance) as they were worked on.
Opening the loading ports for his missile launchers, Morgan took his hands off the controls and leant back in the chair.
It was a curious experience leading the Kell Hounds into battle again. Particularly with Christian leading First Battalion - his nephew reminded him so much of Patrick that sometimes Morgan felt as if it was the 3010s again, with his brother alongside him.
Of course, back then they had never even met Akira Brahe, the current regimental commander. And they had been facing very different foes. But still… it was comforting in a way. A touchstone as he walked through the battlefields, firing into the Diamond Sharks while barely ever having to worry about being shot at. He suspected most of them thought he was some sort of decoy, given how few fired at him.
And none had struck home.
His comrades, his officers, his friends. Those who followed him paid the price, but never him.
Perhaps it was out of guilt that he had refrained from taking any kills, instead using his LRMs and lasers to soften up enemy ‘mechs that were already engaged, softening them up so that his Kell Hounds could finish them.
Objectively he knew that the Kell Hounds were doing well, but the data on his command monitor was a reminder that out of the more than seventy mechwarriors in First and Second Battalions, more than a fifth would never return to Arc-Royal. As many more were wounded to the point they’d been evacuated.
And he was doing all this for a Kurita. The same one who had treated Yorinaga so abominably for over a decade and then hurled him like a guided missile at the Kell Hounds.
At two removes, Morgan reminded himself. It was Akira who had requested permission to take the Kell Hounds to answer the request from his cousin - and it was Takashi’s son who’d made the request, not the Coordinator himself. And besides the request coming from a friend of twenty years, there had been the less worthy reason: a desire to strike back at the Clans who had taken away Phelan and so many other Kell Hounds almost a year ago. There was hope that some of them were still alive, but God only knew their condition.
The graying mercenary exhaled slowly and was about to reach into one of the lockers for an MRE when he spotted an ammo truck crawling up behind the Archer. The little tracked vehicle was little more than a flatbed with an engine and a small cab, most of its volume taken up by several tons of LRMs stacked neatly on the bed.
“Tai-sa, we will begin loading now,” the leader of the work crew announced. “This humble servant requests that you refrain from moving your great battlemech while we serve you.”
“...understood.” He would comply, but damned if he would ever truly understand the Combine, Morgan thought. The Kell Hounds technicians never spoke to him so subserviently and he’d have words with any mechwarrior that expected them to. They were in the repair bays though, supporting the LAW teams who were - for all their skills - a little unfamiliar with battlefield triage.
The workers behind his ‘mech knew their business though and case after case of LRMs was lifted by a cherry picker to dump its contents into the deep bins that fuelled the primary weapons of the Archer. The familiar thunk-thunk-thunk sound was followed by the ammunition counter jumping up by three missiles every time. Over a hundred and fifty such cases would be would be needed, but they were small enough to be manhandled in the field without the more powerful cranes and equipment of a proper ‘mech bay.
The munitions were half-loaded and Morgan was close to dozing off when a shrill alert cut through the temptation to close his eyes. “Incoming!” Christian Kell screamed on the tactical channel - something only done in the direst emergencies while in a repair base.
Morgan jerked forwards, automatically bringing up his sensors. For a moment there was nothing and then the radar usually used for picking up inbound missiles painted the source of the alarm. “Take cover!” Morgan shouted to the workers outside.
A second later, artillery shells reached the line of loading facilities and detonated five metres above the ground. A mix of incendiary and high explosive shells spread devastation through canvas and scaffolding. One of them was near enough to make Morgan’s ears ring.
Then the ammunition truck behind him went up, dozens of missiles struck by redhot shrapnel or white-hot phosphorus.
More than two tons of missiles blew up in a cascade that lasted less than a second. The work crew were obliterated.
And at least one some of the debris found the open loading port on the back of Morgan’s Archer. One moment he was in his cockpit and the next the ejection seat was hurling him away from the fireball that had been seventy tons of battlemech.
The canvas cover above his ‘mech was ripped from the scaffolding by the ejection seat, but with it wrapped around him, the parachute failed to deploy.
Morgan Kell, commander of the Kell Hounds, had just enough time to commend his soul to the almighty, before he hit the ground head-first at terminal velocity.
-
8 December 3050
The flight to meet the Diamond Sharks had been circuitous and was fraught with risks. Both sides had issued writs of safe passage, but both had also been plain that there were a large number of armed combatants who would be more likely to fire at an unfamiliar helicopter before thinking to ask about any such authorization.
As such, it took Andrew Norris most of a day to reach the encampment serving as the Diamond Sharks forward command base - a mix of tents, vans and prefab structures that would probably disintegrate into disaster if one of the DCMS’ remaining artillery batteries managed to get into range. The Precentor for Luthien’s HPG station had seen such encampments during his time in the ComGuards and suspected the Combine wouldn’t hesitate to do so regardless of his august presence, and hoped that didn’t happen until he was gone.
As he was escorted to the Khan’s command post, Andrew saw a dispersed circle of ten self-propelled guns, still wearing DCMS livery other than a Diamond Shark and a yellow bird painted where the dragon of House Kurita had once marked them. “I was not aware that the Clans employed artillery,” he observed to the leader of his escort, who had not shared his name.
The elemental, out of armor and with bandages visible under his field uniform grunted noncommittally before admitting. “It usually gets bid away. It is not a prized assignment.”
Andrew scanned the unit again, picking out that most of the crew wore the badges of Diamond Shark technicians not warriors. His ears pricked up as he heard one swearing in japanese while he worked at clearing debris from the tracks. The Clans to his understanding, had abolished all languages save for their allegedly pure dialect of Star League era English. That man must be a Combine native. That was… worrying.
“Why the yellow birds?” he asked instead.
“Unit marking.” The hulking warrior didn’t even look over. “Twenty-Seventh Cruiser Cluster, newly formed. Does it matter?”
“The yellow bird has a certain significance to Draconian culture,” Andrew explained blandly. “It is said to be the one creature that a Dragon cannot defeat.”
The elemental appeared skeptical. “A little yellow bird?”
“Oh yes. You must have bondsmen you can ask.”
That got a grunt. “Spheroids are strange. A green falcon, maybe, but the badge looks like a canary. How does that defeat a dragon?”
Andrew smiled slightly. “Because it does not fight on the dragon’s terms.” That might be a lesson the Clans were learning already. They were superb at set-piece battles, by all accounts, but it was a rare world they occupied that did not have some level of insurgency. And with essentially every major combat unit committed to Luthien, garrison units had to deal with that unsupported.
They left the artillery battery behind and reached a field kitchen that was serving hot food - it looked as if most of it had been scavenged from the various small settlements on the Tairahana plain rather than brought along. “I seek the Khan,” the elemental boomed.
A lean young man looked up from where he was spooning food up from a bowl. It was only when he turned that Andrew saw the blue diamond on his collar had four stars, marking him as a senior officer. It seemed implausible that that could be right - Andrew had junior acolytes who looked older - but then he spotted the two swords resting at the man’s side.
“Round the back,” Ace Enders informed the elemental. He nodded to Andrew and then went back to his food.
Blake help us, Andrew thought. That is the one who killed their Khan. Who killed the Coordinator’s grandson, Theodore Kurita’s son. If they knew he was here they’d pop a missile or two at the camp just on the chance of getting lucky!
The elemental must have noticed the look he was giving Enders. It seemed to amuse the giant. “You are more afraid of him than you are of me?”
“If that is who I think it is, then he has quite the reputation.”
“Bah.” The elemental gestured to the back of the kitchens. “This way. He would not offend your superiors by killing you.”
“And you would?”
“I might turn around too quickly and crush you.” Then the wounded infantryman started to laugh at his own joke.
At the rear of the kitchen, the same heaters that were preparing food were heating water for showers and the elemental cut through a line of only partly-clad soldiers towards a woman who was emerging from one of the cubicles, carrying a small bag of toiletries but otherwise as naked as the moment of her birth. “Khan Sennet.”
The woman - it was impossible for Andrew not to see that she was in fine shape, although she must be at least her own age - turned. “Point Commander.”
“You have a guest.”
Sennet glanced past the man and saw Andrew. Utterly unembarrassed by her state of dress, she nodded. “Precentor. You made better time than expected.” Walking over to a nearby table she picked up a mechwarrior cooling suit, visibly sweat stained from what must have been days of use and started pulling it on. “Have you seen what you wanted of our camp?”
“...I am here to discuss the security of our HPG station during the fighting,” Andrew told her.
“That could have been done by radio,” she pointed out reasonably. “ComStar deals in information. You came here to gather it.”
“To an extent. But it is also true that a personal meeting can convey more information than a radio conversation.”
Sennet stepped into the suit’s legs, leaning on the table as she did so. “And I allowed you to come here. Sometimes sharing information yields dividends.”
She knows how the game is played, Andrew thought. “I hope that we are both satisfied by that. However it remains true that our facilities in and near the Imperial City are not as distinct as enclaves on other worlds and I would prefer we both know where the lines are - so that our neutrality is respected.”
“Then I hope you brought a map,” Sennet told him “For some strange reason, the Combine seems not to have left any street maps of their capital where we can find them…”
9 December 3050
For the first time since they landed, the Diamond Sharks had paused their relentless advance on the Imperial City, less than sixty kilometers from the final defensive line. Some of the more optimistic thought that it might mean that they had reached the end of their resources… but wiser minds knew better.
Scout reports had confirmed it: the Sharks had a strong screening force out but otherwise they were resting and feeding their troops, bringing forward repaired battlemechs and warriors who had recovered from earlier injuries. When dawn came, they would launch their final attack.
And Theodore Kurita could see the sun’s light in the east.
“What are the latest estimates of their operational strength,” he asked quietly, turning his back on the sun.
Oleg Hrolfsen, the grizzled Rasalhaguan who had left his homeworld to remain in service to the ISF, shook his head. “Including their screening forces? We make it eight Clusters - somewhat understrength, but basically intact fighting groups. We expect six of them to move up today.”
“Could be better,” Theodore allowed without letting his voice betray that his plan had failed. Ideally, the attrition of day after day of fighting should have worn down the Diamond Sharks to the point that they didn’t have cohesive units. All data suggested that the Clans almost never fought engagements that lasted more than a few hours.
But ignoring the facts would be fatal. Even if those six clusters were somewhat depleted, he would need that many brigades of troops to have a good chance. Eight or nine would be better.
“Our own forces?” he asked, hoping that something had changed since the last update.
Kiyomori Minamoto - one of his father’s traditionalists but capable enough as a mechwarrior to have survived where other commanders had not - squared his shoulders. “I have twelve companies of the Sword of Light moving out as we speak.” The remains of three times as many, but that could be worse. Some of the mechwarriors were equipped with ‘mechs fresh from the assembly that hadn’t quite been ready by the time the Diamond Sharks landed. Hopefully they wouldn’t be too far short of being fit for use.
“Good,” Theodore approved. “I will join you, with the Otomo.” All three of the surviving mechwarriors. There had been a breakthrough by Alpha Galaxy forty-eight hours ago that threatened to cross into the Kado-Guchi Valley before the defense lines there had fully reorganized with the troops that had pulled back. The Otomo had held the entirety of Alpha Galaxy back for three critical hours… but the cost had been their annihilation.
He turned to Benji Itemji, his other remaining Tai-sa. “Your own forces?”
“Ten companies,” the commander of the Eighteenth Dieron Regulars answered. “I had to mix and match Hussars and Legionaires with my men, but there is enough trust between them now. We have bled enough.” He didn’t mention them moving out - except for Itemji himself, they had been the picket force overnight, sleeping in shifts. “With your permission.”
“Go join them,” Theodore noted. He turned to the last of the three men who made up his senior leadership. Jaime Wolf was listening to an ear bud and raised his hand for silence before the Gunji-no-Kanrei could ask.
“I understand,” the mercenary said after a moment. He turned to Theodore. “Colonel Jamison reports an assault formation moving up on the line. He is taking Zeta Battalion to meet them,”
Itemji yanked the door open and ran for his ‘mech. Before the door slammed shut behind him, the boom of artillery could be heard.
Theodore bowed slightly towards Jaime Wolf. “It is an honor to fight alongside you.”
“I have four companies, more or less,” the older man told him. “No contact with Natasha or her command since yesterday - but with landlines wrecked and all the jamming, that doesn’t mean much.” Air strikes had been hitting key communication nodes all of yesterday - the Black Widows weren’t the only unit out of contact.
Knowing that his composure was all that held the defenders together, Theodore turned to the other officers present. “All infantry are to stand to, all tank battalions are clear to engage at their own discretion. Does anyone have a feed.” He started unbuttoning his uniform tunic to replace it with a cooling vest.
By the time he had the vest on, the holodisplay had a visual. Theodore had never seen the ‘mechs approaching before but it was clear from the way they shook off the bombardment from his remaining artillery that they were assault weights.
“Wakazashi,” Wolf murmured.
“Pardon?” Theodore asked, touching the hilt of the shorter sword at his belt.
“A ‘mech - obsolete among the Clans. A Storm Giant behind it, I think. And is that a Thunder Stallion? I think it is - where did the Sharks dig that up?”
“I thought it might be the Twenty-First Assault Cluster,” Theodore observed.
“No,” the mercenary said. “This is that scratch galaxy - Kappa - their assault formation. Those are garrison ‘mechs.”
“Assault mechs in a garrison unit?” asked a tank officer.
Wolf shrugged. “They aren’t Omnimechs. Most of them are a couple of hundred years old.”
Theodore’s first actual battlemech had been an Orion built in the twenty-eighth century. “No less dangerous though.”
The perspective swung wildly and more assault ‘mechs began to pour onto the battlefield - these ones bearing the wolfshead badge of the Wolf Dragoons. The designs were more familiar to Theodore, though he knew they had been heavily upgraded with Star League technology. Stalkers, Awesomes, Victors, a few of the more unusual ‘mechs fielded only by the Dragoons and that he now knew were very early Clan designs, before they had reached their level of technology.
Tens of thousands of tons of Battlemechs smashed into each other with all the subtlety of sledgehammers being swung at each other. The Diamond Shark ‘mechs were scarred and battered from the attack, but Zeta Battalion were scarcely better - either their repairs had not been completed or the Sharks’ own artillery battery had found their range already.
For a long moment, Theodore watched in fascination as the giants tore at each other - and everything in their paths - and then the first flare of a fusion reactor melting everything around it brought him back to his senses.
“Send instructions to LAW, Buda Weapons and BBP to complete the prepping to demolish their facilities,” he ordered. “I am formally authorizing to commence demolition on local authority if the Imperial City falls.”
There was an intake of breath.
Theodore looked around. “Purge our databases here and evacuate the facility. We’re in range for them to attempt a headhunter strike.” He paused. “And inform my father that my intention is to pin the Diamond Sharks In place along the line. I want him to bring his Dragon Claws in en masse to try to smash them with local superiority.” His father would never let him live this down, but it was the only card he had left to play.
Minamoto opened the door again and Theodore followed him out. Jaime Wolf was right behind them and without another word the mercenary headed for his Archer.
A mass of red-painted battlemechs of the Sword of Light were already moving from their muster points towards the sound of the guns. Theodore went to his own Hatamoto-chi, still in the gray-and-red of the Legion of Vega, with the black Otomo ‘mechs stood guarding it. Slinging his swords over his shoulder, Theodore began scaling his ‘mech.
Clever strategy had failed, so all that remained was to gamble everything on valor. The cost of failure would be everything - or nearly so.
His ‘mech had long been refitted with a rear seat for an operator to help him control a battle as well as his ‘mech. Theodore was pleased to see that the seat was occupied already as he reached the cockpit. He was less pleased when he saw who occupied it.
Tomoe gave him a challenging look and her husband decided he had enough foes already today. “Together then,” he said and began strapping himself in.
-
Thus the final desperate throw of the dice.
I reckon it was Ace's influence that led to artillery being included and preparations be made to be used effectively, as well as using artillery and air strikes to hit enemy logistics, command and communications, instead of just hitting where the most glory (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3FGuHKMdzzs) can be find. While battle is joined all along the line, there are still two Clusters held back and Sharks seem to be exercising solid battlefield control, so assault by Takashi is likely to be parried effectively.
A green falcon, maybe, but the badge looks like a canary. How does that defeat a dragon?”
Apparently Clanners never heard of Tweety Bird, even Bugs Bunny would be wise to to steer clear away from her.
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Wow. I mean...wow.
The knockdown effects of Luthien here are going to be far-reaching. Morgan Kell dying on the battlefield due to a failed ejection after his parked 'Mech is taken down by artillery fire. Theodore Kurita and Takashi Kurita are both likely to die on the battlefield. There's a distinct possibility that the Dragoons on-planet are either going to do the same, or potentially be taken as bondsmen by the Sharks which...well, that should make for interesting conversations.
If Luthien falls, I don't see much that would prevent large portions of the Benjamin and Dieron districts from doing the same. It will essentially turn the Combine into an oversized Periphery state, cut off from the Terran Corridor entirely. Moreover, it gives the Clans a direct path to attack the Terran Corridor and Terra herself, not to mention the Federated Suns and Capellan Confederation.
This is going to be a thing.
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I expect Natasha to turn up in the effort get Jaime and whatever's left of the Dragoons and Hounds off planet...
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Wei and Focht will need to act fast to contain the Clan advance now, probably offering a proxy battle similar to Tukayid, the problem is though that ComGuards did not have a year to prepare for this fight. Under threat of other clans leaving his Jaguars in the dust, I reckon Leo Showers will be all for doing it, but given the leadership of Jaguars, we can presume their part will be a dismal failiure.
The fall of Luthien will hit Hohiro hard, he already lost his older brother, now he will also lose his parents and grandfather, with Omiko probably going into hiding as central figure of resistance on Luthien, unless they have a DEST team cox her off world.
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What would be interesting is Ace looking at the AARs where Clan warriors in salvaged kuritan mechs faced elite DC warriors in equivalent mechs in roughly equal numbers. The results may not show the expected Clan superiority & may aid his efforts to see more recruitment of Freeborns.
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Wow. I mean...wow.
The knockdown effects of Luthien here are going to be far-reaching. Morgan Kell dying on the battlefield due to a failed ejection after his parked 'Mech is taken down by artillery fire. Theodore Kurita and Takashi Kurita are both likely to die on the battlefield. There's a distinct possibility that the Dragoons on-planet are either going to do the same, or potentially be taken as bondsmen by the Sharks which...well, that should make for interesting conversations.
I also find it hilarious yet practically brutal that indirect + Area of Effect attacks that target terrain bypasses / ignores Phantom 'Mech evasion.
Then again, it was neither an artillery hit nor splash damage effects from artillery shells that destroyed Morgan Kell's 'Mech, but the final consequence of a chain reaction of ammunition explosions.
If there was a kill message display for "spectators" (Like in '90s Deathmatch games), these are a few messages on the chatlog that I am imagining:
"Diamond Sharks artillery piece attacked DCMS ammunition stockpiles and DCMS techs got in the way."
"Diamond Sharks artillery piece hijacked Morgan Kell's LRM ammunition and turned it on his 'Mech all at once."
"Diamond Sharks artillery piece used the ultimate detonator on the DCMS ammunition resupply dump."
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It's a fair ending for Morgan, I guess. If he can't be killed by direct fire, nature must find another way to get to him.
And while it's still possible for the DCMS to get a phyrric victory here, it's getting less likely by the update. With plot armor stripped across the board, I fear you are right and there will be a new coordinator in place very soon.
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I´m getting the distinct impression here that Ace is going to be the one to kill an important character.
Does anyone want to make a bet on who it´s going to be? Theodore, Takashi or Jaime? Or possibly Natasha?
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My money's on Takashi.
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It would be cruel for Theodore to die but Takashi to survive, leaving him and Minoru to keep the Combine from collapsing
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I would find it interesting to see the results of Jaime being killed but Natasha being taken as a bondsman by the Diamond Sharks. She'd quickly move up the ranks but a combination of Ace's pragmatism with Natasha's ruthlessness would make a very very intriguing combination.
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With Morgan dead and both Christian Kell and Akira Brahe possibly stuck on Luthien to be killed on captured, I reckon it would fall to Daniel Allard to rebuild the devastated Hounds, a difficult task. Also, if Mad Kat does her thing, there will be no such focal figure in her opposition as Morgan was.
With most of defenders mech strength destroyed outside the city along with much of conventional forces, I wonder whether the remnants will contest the city or disperse for guerrilla warfare. The urban guerrilla within capital will be bad enough, adding countryside fighting would make it even worse.
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I really hope that even if the Sharks win it is a phryic victory and they can no longer continue just hold what they have.
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I really hope that even if the Sharks win it is a phryic victory and they can no longer continue just hold what they have.
I think that the most likely outcome is a Sharks win that is followed up by a wave of quick easy planet grabs to even out the lines while the Combine gathers for a new defensive line. However I believe losses and the extrapolation of future losses will have the Sharks become more pragmatic about their chances to actually reach Earth and will lead them to focus more on securing systems that have the resources and industrial capability to build up their forces to the levels they need to fend off the inevitable counterattacks. I can see for sure several DCMS units going rogue to attempt to purge their honor by throwing themselves suicidally at Luthien and being destroyed for minimal return while worsening the Combine's position.
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Luthien and Pesht are good prizes to build on, which the Sharks should be very able to do. Even with the great cost, it secures a strong position in the IS. ComStar appears to come to the conclusion that a great proxy trial for the invasion is their best shot, so if they win, the Sharks are in a good place to rebuild. That may compensate for having to shoulder the burden of Luthien on their own. At least they got a buffer to the Jaguars.
-
Opalescent Reflections
House of Cards
Chapter 5
Imperial City, Luthien
Pesht Military District, Draconis Combine
9 December 3050
Jeremy Hawker’s command cluster had done their job and battered through the defender’s immediate reaction forces. Behind them, three more clusters raced to exploit the penetration - Barbara Sennet led the Emerald Skate north, rolling up as many of the bunkers and combat vehicles as they could before the ‘mechs were able to respond. Bikendi Vewas’ was with the Thirty-Fifth Cruiser Cluster as they swung south to punch into the oncoming Wolf Dragoons companies.
That left the center, the road to the support facilities outside the Imperial City itself. The Twenty-First Assault Cluster crashed through a company of Tokugawa, Bulldog and Manticore tanks, expending hoarded SRM and cluster munitions.
Ace hopped his Stormcrow sideways to avoid a ramming attempt by a Bulldog and fired both PPCs down into the upper hull. The charged particles ate through the armor plating and into the tanks’ engine, bringing it to a complete halt.
A moment later, Ace’s ‘mech was rocked by another PPC, fired by a Manticore that was missing its tracks. Barely able to move on its road-wheels, the tank was still dangerous and Ace saw red lights appear on the display of the Stormcrow’s left armor. The shot had ripped though hastily repaired armor plating on the limb. The electromagnetic charge overloaded circuitry in the arm and the PPC was out of action.
A Kappa Galaxy Stone Rhino, still limping forwards despite the frontal slope of its armor pummeled almost out of recognition by artillery, opened fire on the Manticore with a total disregard for zellbrigen. The one-armed assault mech’s pulse laser burned and pitted the armor above one of the wrecked tracks and then both Gauss Rifles slammed their slugs through the damaged hull and into the interior.
“Push on,” Ace ordered. If they took out the support facilities then the DCMS would have little choice but to pull back into the city or even beyond it once their ammunition or armor was no longer fit for battle. He matched action to word, the agile Stormcrow leading the charge - leaving the remaining tanks to the survivors of Hawker’s charge.
The morning sun glittered off something ahead, bright metal.
“‘Mechs ahead,” reported Julius. “More than a hundred.”
“Are they gold?” Michel asked, incredulously.
“Aff,” Ace agreed, remembering the previous briefings. The Dragon’s Claws, the one regiment they had never even seen the entire battle. “Their final reserve.”
A militia force, but the Combine’s commander had never hesitated to expend militia against them before. If he had held this unit back, kept them pristine… they were either utter trash or a trump card held back for the most critical moment of the battle. He could not assume the former.
“Zeta-One,” Ace snapped, “Can you get us air support.”
“Neg, Alpha Prime.” The Star Captain commanding the Twenty-First’s aerospace trinary - and functionally every fighter left in Alpha Galaxy - sounded strained. “The enemy is firing cruise missiles in clusters, we believe they are emptying their reserves. We are fully committed.”
If there was ever a moment for the Combine to break their own agreement against using nuclear weapons, this was it. “Fly well, warriors,” Ace murmured and then switched to the Cluster-wide channel. “All mechwarriors, we are outnumbered two to one and these may be the Combine’s elite. Remember, zellbrigen is not in force. We have no time to draw this out and there is no Cluster in the touman better suited to this battle. Concentrate your fire by Stars and drop them as fast as you can - we must level the numbers as quickly as possible. If you have a chance to finish a cripple, take it.”
There was some mumbled Affs on the channel.
Ace understood where they were coming from. This wasn’t what they, or he, had been trained for. “We serve the Clan,” he reminded them. “How many warriors have you met in other Clans, who believe that the other Castes simply exist to support the warriors. And they are half-right: every caste has the responsibility to support the other four. That is our duty and this is our glory. If any of us find ourselves dueling today, it had better be an enemy deserving of that attention!”
The golden ‘mechs were coming into clear view now, a loose line two kilometers wide. If there was something special about them besides the color, Ace didn’t see it. But that meant nothing. For all he knew they might be suicidal, planning to ram into his ‘mechs and blow up.
Actually, that was a real possibility, he thought sharply.
Before he could think how to voice that, someone else cut in, transmitting on the open channel that - by ancient tradition - all forces monitored for the chance to communicate offers of surrender.
This was no surrender though: “I am Takashi, son of Hohiro, son of Hugai, son of Shinjiro, son of Taragi, son of Yoguchi, son of Zabu, son of Minoru Kurita. I am the Thirtieth Coordinator of the Draconis Combine, the First Lord of the Star League and I am the Dragon. You have come here to die and I will give you that gift.”
Ace let his systems pick out the source, hands tightening on his controls. “I am Galaxy Commander Ace Enders,” he began and tried to remember his full lineage back to Wladimir Enders. Then he gave up. “I’m a bastard son of a bitch.”
There was a ripple of laughter from his warriors.
His heads up display highlighted a Grand Dragon as the origin and before the Coordinator could respond, he added, conversationally. “I was just telling my warriors that there was no one here worth challenging.” Then, switching to tactical command, he continued: “Winnower formation.”
At maximum range, the Clan warriors opened fire. Their shots slammed into the Combine formation a moment before the Dragon Claws could open up with their LRMs and lighter autocannon. Ace had - for a calculated insult - aimed for a Phoenix Hawk beside the Grand Dragon. The PPC shot severed the ‘mech’s right arm at the elbow, depriving it of more than half of its armament.
Then he was dodging wildly as the Combine’s return fire lashed back at them. His anti-missile system swept most of the LRMs fired at him by the Grand Dragon out of the sky, only two struck home but the PPC shot came close enough to blister the dark-blue paint on his damaged arm.
A part of Ace noted that it must be at least a Star League era model to be able maintain beam cohesion at this range, but a far larger part was noting that the other mechwarrior was skilled - at least three Diamond Sharks had decided to try to win the glory of taking out the Coordinator themselves but he had danced the sixty-ton machine through the fire without taking a single hit. And he was laser-focused on Ace’s Stormcrow.
Flaring his jump-jets the young Galaxy Commander skidded his ‘mech to one side, avoiding the next shots from Takashi by a narrow margin. He spotted a Jenner jumping skyward, trying to avoid being hit until its short-range armaments were of use. Swinging his one working PPC aside, Ace sent a bolt of energy into the light ‘mech’s leg and the limb crumpled as it landed.
He was impressed to see that the ‘mechwarrior managed to throw it over to put the bulk of its weight on the remaining leg and the Jenner crouched slightly to keep jumping forwards. Then Michel skewered it with two large pulse lasers from his Warhawk, one of the pulses finding the little ‘mech’s ammunition stores.
Splitting his attention cost Ace, for the next shots from the Grand Dragon were slightly better. His anti-missile system kept the missiles off him, but the PPC shot bit into the left side of the torso, and savaged the armor playing. A second hit there would probably burn through the protection.
There was no longer time to play around. Ace left Michel to focus on his own next opponent - the Steel Viper had requested custom pods when the order went out to switch to C configuration on Warhawks, trading off two PPCs for six medium pulse lasers that now tore through the frontal plating of a Hunchback. It didn’t stop the medium ‘mech from firing its autocannon, but a combination of recoil and the massive armor damage knocked it over.
Ace’s own shot at Takashi’s golden Grand Dragon only hit the ground as the old mechwarrior stutter-stepped and dodged the shot.
They were close enough for the slightly larger ‘mech to fire its one forward-firing laser and Ace raised his left arm to cover his cockpit, something that left most of the limb’s protection gone. Not that there was anything left in it to fight with, but it would be more work for the techs.
The PPC shot missed Ace as he ducked the Stormcrow down, and he swiveled sharply, slamming a shot into the Grand Dragon’s right leg. The PPC burned almost through all the armor on the leg.
The two ‘mechs were of a similar size and speed, not to mention protection. Ace’s jump jets gave him an edge in mobility but he’d already taken damage and the loss of the PPC meant that Takashi actually had a firepower advantage as they fought, the Combine warrior managing to keep in the sweet spot where his full armament was able to come to bear.
The antimissile system chattered away but a few more missiles bit away at Ace’s armor and he suspected he’d run out of flechettes for them before Takashi ran out of LRMs.
A sudden sharp twist of the Grand Dragon’s torso reduced the damage taken from Ace’s next shot to a glancing hit to its shoulder, while the PPC slammed dead center into Ace’s mech, the damage control computer painting the armor around the gyro and the reactor orange.
Ace jumped closer but the Grand Dragon reversed course smoothly, backpedaling to keep range and avoid Ace’s shot as it fired again - the laser in its left arm carving a gouge out of the Stormcrow’s calf.
At least the PPC missed, Ace thought. If anyone ever complained about the older warriors returning to active service in the Diamond Shark touman, I should warn them of this one - he is in his eighties!
He was also conscious that after warning his warriors about getting drawn into duels, he was setting a bad example. In the spirit of compliance with his own orders, he feigned lining up a shot on the Grand Dragon and when the Coordinator dodged, Ace let the crosshairs drift to the side to let him nail a Quickdraw in the back.
The PPC blew through the thin armor just to the side of the spine and must have struck a missile bin. The explosion only gutted that side of the ‘mech - suggesting that it had been almost empty of missiles, or had been refitted with cellular storage.
“Your battle is with me!” Takashi Kurita snarled over his loudspeakers and darted forwards to cover the Quickdraw with his Grand Dragon.
That brought him back into Ace’s sights and he triggered his PPC a second time, a hair after the Coordinator fired.
The anti-missile system spat more flechettes, cutting down the LRMs before they even had time to arm - the two leakers did nothing at all to the Stormcrow. The same could not be said for the PPC and laser, which reduced the upflung left arm of the omnimech to a stub.
In return, Ace’s own PPC struck the angled left flank of Takashi’s ‘mech and left a brutal, blackened scar in the gold painted armor. His battle computer reported that the armor that remained was badly compromised - and from his own knowledge of the refits being carried out to restore captured units to service, Ace knew that the primary ammunition storage was located on that side of the chest.
Takashi must have been similarly aware and unused missiles cascaded out of the back of his ‘mech as he ejected the munitions rather than have them go off and cripple him.
Taking the opportunity, Ace tried to pull away from the duel but Takashi followed him and their speeds were well matched. One advantage of his ‘mech having lost a PPC was that Ace’s cooling system had been able to almost entirely dissipate the heat of firing the other as fast as it would cycle. Takashi’s Grand Dragon had its own formidable heatsinks though, and he was similarly able to keep fighting almost indefinitely. The two traded shots ineffectually as they raced through the battle, almost ignoring the ‘mechs around them.
Golden Dragon’s Claw ‘mechs were falling, but dark blue Alpha Galaxy omnimechs had joined them. Some elementals were clawing over fallen ‘mechs as they tried to stand. Weight of numbers against weight of machines - Ace admitted to himself that there was little between the two forces in skill.
And then suddenly the pair of them were alone, the sprawling melee behind them as Ace saw a low wall ahead of him and beyond it ornamental tiled walls. The Imperial City - he had bypassed the targeted facilities entirely in the chaos and stood closer to the center of Kurita power than any other Clan warrior.
The impact of Takashi’s PPC shot into the right side of his Stormcrow’s chest forced him to address the more pressing concern. Now neither side of his chest could sustain another hit from the weapon unless he wanted to risk internal damage.
Ace spun and weaved, feathering his jump jets as he snapped a shot into the golden Grand Dragon. He was aiming for the damaged left side of the chest but the old Mecharrior twisted and managed to take it on the largely intact frontal armor plating.
The two began to circle, Takashi moving to block Ace from the city. That was fine with Ace, the city would be a deathtrap to advance into alone.
Another exchange of shots that missed.
Twisting, turning - Ace slammed another PPC bolt into the dead center of the Grand Dragon’s chest. Through blackened and scorched armor he could see what he thought were structural members and the reactor shielding of the ‘mech.
The other mechwarrior raised his PPC and as Ace stutter-stepped to avoid it, he brought up the left arm and fired the medium laser into Ace’s evasive move, shaving away much of the armor over the Stormcrow’s right side.
Reversing course, Ace and Takashi fired almost as one, the two bolts crackling past each other.
Myomers tore away as Ace’s shot shattered the remaining protection on the Grand Dragon’s right leg, but in the same instant Takashi’s shot crashed directly into the armor glass over Ace’s cockpit.
Sparks flew and fuses blew around Ace. For a moment he thought the safety systems would force an ejection, but no. The glass cracked and broke under the hammerblow, but they did so as they were designed to and the bulk of the energy vented itself into the framework.
Ace exhaled and the next breath he took tasted of smoke and the fresh morning air. His cockpit was halfway open to the elements and only the reassuring purr of the reactor assured him that the Stormcrow still lived.
He saw the Grand Dragon turn, aware that it had come close to killing him and aiming to deliver a coup de grace.
“Not this time,” he hissed and twisted the Stormcrow away, bringing up his own PPC.
The shots from Takashi set fire to the grass where Ace’s mech had been standing, but there was no reply from his own weapon.
Unbelieving, Ace pulled the trigger again before a glance at the damage control panel told him the cause - the fire control computer itself was damaged - somewhere between his controls and the weapon, the message to discharge the PPC was failing.
The computer was rebooting automatically, which might solve the problem or might not… but he had no time!
It could not have been more obvious to Takashi that the Stormcrow was deprived of any functioning weapon and he limped his Grand Dragon closer, aiming to fire a decisive salvo from so close that it could not possibly miss.
Jamming his feet down on the pedals, Ace fired his jump jets desperately.
He had never tried this before, it wasn’t something anyone trained for - but he’d see Inner Sphere pilots attempt it twice.
Takashi recognised his intention and the Grand Dragon tried to jerk aside. Perhaps it was the damage to one leg that slowed him, or perhaps he had calculated that the idea would not occur to a Clan mechwarrior.
Ace would never know the answer - but the blazing jump jets poured fire over the Grand Dragon’s cockpit for a fraction of a second before one clawed foot found purchase and the Stormcrow came down with its full weight upon the self-proclaimed First Lord of the Star League.
CSJS Streaking Mist, Kaesong
Clan Smoke Jaguar Occupation Zone
9 December 3050
When Leo Showers entered the small lounge, the occupants stood respectfully. It was increasingly evident that failing to show respect could have weighty consequences.
Ask Lincoln Osis, who had been assigned command of a solahma cluster… on Rasalhague. Given the utter loathing that the population felt towards the former Khan, that was a death sentence. It was only a question of how many people died in the process of killing him. He wouldn’t die easily… but they only had to succeed once, while Osis would have to survive an essentially unlimited number of attempts on his life.
Sarah Weaver hid her anger at the ilKhan and folded her arms silently.
“We have barely begun our sixth wave of attacks,” Showers said quietly. “No other clan is so laggardly.”
“The Diamond Sharks are only attacking a single world,” pointed out Kincaid Furey. The new Khan, elected to stand above Sarah Weaver, would hopefully fall as rapidly as his predecessor. His claims that she and Hoyt had failed to restrain Osis were empty of any evidence that he would allow them to restrain him, but they’d split the vote enough for him to emerge as a compromise candidate.
If the ilKhan hadn’t warned her he would look poorly on a trial of position for the slot… She seethed quietly.
Furey sat back in his seat. “Our logistics are complicated by slow communications,” he continued. “Too many messages have to be sent by jumpship rather than HPG.”
That it was an excuse didn’t make it false, but the ilKhan shook his head. “Do not whine to me of problems, Furey. I came here to hear solutions.”
“We need more HPGs,” the Khan said simply.
Edmund Hoyt scowled. “You know the timescale for being able to provide those ourselves. I discussed it with you last week. The Diamond Sharks’ defensive bidding is very high - they know how valuable they are to everyone right now. And the other Clans that can build the key components are following their lead.”
Furey nodded. “Then we must have access to the ComStar HPGs.”
“Taking them will not work,” Sarah said flatly. “We tried.”
“You mean you tried,” Showers corrected her bluntly. “Do you have a plan, Furey?”
“It is unpalatable,” the man admitted, looking disgusted, “But Kerensky’s measure granting ComStar the status of a Free Guild means that we will have to… appease them.”
“I never thought I would hear a Khan of Smoke Jaguar say that,” Hoyt snarled.
Sarah unfolded her arms and shook her head at the loremaster. “I hate it as much as everyone in this room, but we are trapped. Our first priority must be getting out of the trap. We can take revenge after that.”
The ilKhan nodded approvingly. “The other Clans are leaping ahead. Even the Diamond Sharks - focusing on one world is acceptable when it is such a valuable world.”
“We hold a national capital too,” Furey almost whined.
Showers scowled. “I am well aware, Furey. And of what it cost us. Luthien is an even grander prize and I doubt Barbara Sennet will humiliate her clan the way your predecessor did.” His eyes narrowed. “Alshain had better fall smoothly - it is almost nothing compared to Luthien but it would at least rival the Wolves’ victory on Tamar.”
“It is not as if we can make use of most of Rasalhague’s facilities,” Sarah noted.
The loremaster spoke up as peacemaker. “The world that matters is Terra and getting there is what we are here to discuss. I take it there will be no problem with attacking ComStar there when the time comes, ilKhan?”
That got him a nod. “While it is a distant prize and we need their HPGs, a vote would be… questionable. But once it’s right in front of our noses? Then I can be sure of an overwhelming majority vote in favor of allowing an attack by any Clan within reach.”
“And in the meantime,” Sarah mused, “There is our more immediate concern with ComStar. What do you have in mind… Kincaid?” She would be damned before she called him her Khan.
Furey brought out a datapad. “I have a list of cities on worlds we have occupied where ComStar has an HPG station or some significant building. Discounting the ones that are already inside their enclaves, almost half of them are problem areas for our occupation forces. I propose to offer them to ComStar as enclaves - the cities and everything for perhaps ten kilometers around them.” He wiggled his hand slightly. “Details to be negotiated for the specific cities, of course.”
“Giving up territory that our warriors have fought for?” protested Hoyt.
“If it gets us the HPG use again, then it will be worth it,” the khan told him. “Simplifying our garrisons will be worth it and we will control the vast majority of the worlds. What is a few hundred square kilometers compared to the vast wealth we have won?”
“It is a foot in the door,” Sarah warned. Then she shook her head. “But the idea… it has merit,” she admitted reluctantly. “It depends on the Primus or whoever negotiates being as venal as one of the Scavenger Lords, but that is not unlikely.”
“Less likely than you may think,” Showers told her. “I refuse to underestimate Wei Rong - ridiculous name. I will not underestimate her again. Remember Furey: she told us we must compensate Rasalhague’s people as well as her Order.”
“If she does accept then it would drive a wedge between ComStar and the remaining worlds of Rasalhague,” Hoyt noted. “She would be accepting territory they say is theirs, as if the trials we fought did not count for anything. Likely she would not want that - after all, ComStar claims to be neutral.”
Sarah mused over the prospect and saw that none of the other three had any suggestions. “Perhaps offer the same but not to ComStar,” she suggested at last.
“What are you talking about?” Hoyt asked. “Who do we offer it to?”
She gestured sharply. “Set aside some part of each world we conquer and say that those there can live under their laws, not those of the Clans.”
“Outrageous!” Hoyt exploded.
“ComStar’s enclaves do not follow Clan law,” she pointed out, “So it does not differ much from your proposal. Clan Wolf have done something of the sort on Gunzburg so there is precedent.”
“And when they are used as a foothold for fighting us in the future?” asked Furey.
Sarah shook her head. “They would have to disarm, we can call them… oh, something that makes it clear that we still provide their military power.”
“A protectorate,” Showers suggested. “Yes, I see the logic. And allowing civilian dissidents to relocate would make other areas more stable. My main concern is that it may lead them to believe we have been defeated somehow.”
“Why do we care what they think? We are conquering the Inner Sphere. This is simply a temporary measure?”
Furey hesitated. “How so?”
“We plan on establishing our own HPGs,” Sarah reminded him. “Once we have done that, are you planning to allow ComStar to keep their enclaves, quineg?”
“Neg,” he said. “Of course not.”
“So at that point, they have no bargaining power. And we will know exactly where the dissidents are on each worlds,” the saKhan pointed out with a feral smile.
“Aaaaaah,” the Khan exclaimed in sudden understanding.
Showers nodded. “Your plan would have that advantage as well, Furey. As well as the chance of causing division between ComStar and the remains of Free Rasalhague. Follow your original plan, but if the Primus declines - as I expect - then Khan Weaver’s plan is a reasonable fallback.”
Of course, he sided with Furey, Weaver thought. Had Showers backed the other warrior because he thought Furey was easier to control? He was ilKhan of the Clans, not Khan over the Smoke Jaguars!
“Now that we have that settled,” Furey noted smugly. “There is another matter I would value your opinion on. Our invasion force has received an unusual response from Sheliak.”
Showers frowned. “I do not recall the Watch reporting any significant defenses on that world.”
“Aff… which may be why they are proposing to conduct the trial by way of a sporting event.”
Sarah scowled. “That would normally be acceptable. What is the problem?”
“The bidding to provide a team for this match of football has been spirited,” the Khan admitted, “But it is not as if we have brought the appropriate equipment. Star Colonel Nevvarsen suggests obtaining the equipment locally, but since they will not accept a trial of possession for that, he would require local currency. And since ComStar is also declining us banking services, he would either have to sell some of the equipment or supplies aboard his dropships or wait for us to ship some to him.”
Although she could think of at least two solutions, Sarah decided that she did not want to draw Showers’ attention. He seemed to be in the mood to kill someone and the repercussions if she killed the ilKhan would be… unpredictable - and likely bad for her.
“Signal Star Colonel Nevvarsen with our HPG,” the ilKhan instructed. “I will use the Streaking Mist to take him the currency personally. I assume we have some aboard?”
Furey nodded nervously.
“Let him know that I expect three things: a very conservative cutdown, that whoever wins will play scrupulously within the rules of this game… and that the enemy be crushed completely.” Showers emphasized the last two words, clenching his fists. “Whether it is the battlefield or the playing field, no one is to be left in doubt that they stand no chance against Clan Smoke Jaguars.”
-
Hilton Head, North America
Terra, Sol System
10 December 3050
Almost all of the First Circuit were present only as holograms in the meeting chamber. With jumpships busy moving ComGuards towards mustering points in enclaves between Terra and the Clans, it wasn’t feasible to carry out the usual command circuits for transportation.
“Precentor Luthien,” Wei opened the meeting. “I have your last report, but I appreciate that the circumstances are changing rapidly. Please can you outline the current situation?”
Andrew Norris looked as if he hadn’t slept in days. “Takashi Kurita is dead,” he reported flatly. “Diamond Shark forces are taking control of the Imperial City.”
Wei Rong had a sudden mental image of Clan forces moving through Geneva here on Terra, Crimson on Canopus IV or even the small town she had grown up in. It was an unsettling possibility, though none of those settlements were currently under threat. Better than seeing them obliterated by Reyjhavik but still nothing she wanted to experience.
She suppressed the urge to suggest relocating ComStar’s headquarters to Canopus IV and indicated that the floor was open for Precentor’s questions.
“Are you sure?” Joe Murphy asked. The other ‘militant’ leader of the First Circuit usually got along well with Norris, even though his role involved working closely with the traditional enemy of Norris’ posting. “Fog of war can be…”
Precentor Luthien shook his head. “We have footage - advantage of low buildings in the Imperial City and the height of the HPG station is that we have a fantastic field of view over the city. We have positive identification of Takashi Kurita’s Grand Dragon taking a DFA to the cockpit right outside the city gates.”
“Pardon, DFA?” Tiger Lily didn’t have a military background.
“Death from above,” Norris told her. “A ‘mech jumped on top of him.”
Faces blanched.
“We’re ninety-five percent sure it was the same mechwarrior who killed Hohiro Kurita,” he continued. “I imagine the ISF will be doing everything they can to avenge the Coordinator, but that’s secondary at this point.”
“So Theodore Kurita is now Coordinator,” concluded Joe Buckley. “Everything I have heard about him says he’s an able military leader which is what the Combine needs at the moment.”
But Norris shook his head. “That’s not clear. We know he took the field personally, but we don’t know if he’s dead as well. I’m trying to establish that but there’s been no claim from either side so far.”
Tiger Lily leant forwards. “Who takes over if he is dead? He has two other children.”
Wei nodded. “His younger son Minoru is on New Samarkand - the Combine was setting up a back-up capital there once it was clear Luthien would be either attacked or raided. Based on intercepted communications, if Theodore does not re-establish contact with the rest of the Combine by a set deadline, Minoru will declare himself Coordinator before the end of the month. We don’t have the exact date, much of this is inference - we all know how Kuritan officials hate to get to the point.”
“And the daughter?” asked Murphy, looking over at Norris. “What happened to her?”
“She was in the city but her current situation is also known. Currently, I assume that she’s been evacuated, but at the moment we don’t have confirmation. I’d expect some sort of evacuation but at the moment Diamond Shark warships are nearby so that would be risky.”
“Are the Sharks encroaching on the Luthien compound?” asked someone from the back row.
“No”, Norris replied. “They are maintaining a distance of at least a block from all of our facilities, which will get awkward if they find the infantry platoon that’s gone to ground in the building facing the old MRB building.”
“Why do we even have an MRB building on Luthien?” Wei asked him in bemusement. “The Combine doesn’t hire mercenaries?”
“They may be reversing that decision,” he noted. “The Dragoons and Hounds turning up was made much of in an understated fashion. But to answer your question, we were renting the building out for a while and then I’ve been using it for administrative overflow. Luthien was never set up to run the Advocate’s office for the Combine.”
“So has Luthien fallen to the Clans, or just the Imperial City?” asked Buckley. “It’s the capital, of course, but if the Clans somehow reached Castle Davion I’d expect House Davion to fight on from the rest of New Avalon.”
Wei stepped up before Norris could speak. “On the same note, is there a coherent command structure you’re in contact with?”
Norris lowered his head in thought. “Almost all of the DCMS heavy combat equipment was devoted to the defense of the Imperial City, on the basis that if they could break the Sharks’ attack there then it wouldn’t be needed elsewhere. Unfortunately for the Combine, almost all of them have been lost. My best estimate is that they have the equivalent of a single regiment of battlemechs scattered around the area in penny-packets, along with a larger number infantry and armor. Tai-sa Asano of the DCMS is trying to pull them together but it’s too early to say. Even if he doesn’t, that doesn’t compare to the force that the Diamond Sharks can bring to bear. I expect it will take months before the Diamond Sharks can call Luthien fully pacified, and they will need to retain some of their frontline forces there to achieve that - but the only question is how heavy the losses are on both sides, not the outcome.”
“And the industrial facilities?” asked Murphy. “If they were captured by the Sharks it would potentially solve a great deal of their logistical issues.”
“The majority of the military factories were demolished by DCMS combat engineers and their own workers after the death of the Coordinator,” the Precentor informed them. “However those are primary sites - assembly and a few key components such as weapons. Secondary sites like myomer manufacturers, for example, have either been missed or simply haven’t been got to yet. We anticipate that there will be skirmishes over the next few days and weeks as the Diamond Sharks race to capture them before they are destroyed. Infrastructure and basic extraction industries are largely unscathed so the Sharks will have a fundamentally functional economy to work with, just one without most of the military production that the Combine had here.”
“Something that they could replace given a few years,” Wei noted thoughtfully. The simple fact was that the Clans were technologically sophisticated and would certainly be able to build entirely new factories. Even the Successor States were able to do that, the last decade had seen many factories being constructed to replace those lost over the previous two centuries.
She turned to Precentor New Avalon. “Is the Federated Commonwealth likely to take advantage?”
Buckley considered the matter for a moment and then shook his head. “There are certainly voices that will advocate it, but I do not think Hanse Davion would approve it now. With troops and supplies being moved out of the Draconis March, Duke Sandoval would be hard-pressed to take significant action alone.”
“Are you sure of that?” asked Rachel Orchard. “They could move forces from the Sarna and Capellan Marches that haven’t been stripped similarly.”
“The reasons that those Marches are still maintaining their readiness have not changed,” Buckley told her. “Both the Capellans and the Free Worlds aren’t directly threatened by the Clans and whether it’s realistic or not, there are concerns that they might strike if the Federated Commonwealth looked weak.”
“While Joshua Marik is being treated on New Avalon, his father will not take such action,” Orchard - Precentor of the Free Worlds League capital of Atreus - said definitely.
“House Marik’s record of tightly controlling their provinces is poor,” Wei observed. “And Romano Liao is unpredictable. Besides, we do not want conflict between the Combine and the Commonwealth at this time.” Or ever, but she had to play to the audience.
Buckley nodded slowly in agreement. “The question may become more pressing if there is perceived to be a power vacuum. If Theodore Kurita is confirmed as dead, that would be a blow to the Combine’s credibility. The critical issue is whether the remaining Warlords fall in line with the new government on New Samarkand. A civil war would present an overwhelming temptation.”
Wei paused. “And in that case what, would you expect?” she asked.
The balding precentor nodded slowly. “In that case I believe James Sandoval would mobilize at least the Robinson Rangers and the Draconis March Militia to push for the pre-Fourth Succession War border. Some pretext such as securing the factories on Quentin and Marduk for supplying troops facing the Clans might be offered, but the cause would be territory. As for how such a collapse would affect the forces facing the Clans…” Buckley shrugged helplessly.
“And Hanse Davion would have the choice of condemning one of his most important nobles or endorsing the attacks,” Wei continued. “Given that his brother died fighting the Combine, I doubt he’d be predisposed to object at that point.”
“Particularly when it would be wildly popular across the Suns,” Buckley agreed.
Murphy snorted. “And in the Lyran half of the Federated Commonwealth as well,. There are spontaneous celebrations going on, whether Melissa Steiner-Davion approves of them or not. Luthien being attacked is two enemies fighting each other - even on Tharkad there are banners proclaiming ‘whoever loses, we win’ and such sentiments.”
“I would not be surprised if things are happening here,” his counterpart agreed wearily. “I have not seen them myself, but any sympathy for House Kurita is a tiny minority even with a common foe.”
Wei nodded. “We will do what we can to support Minoru Kurita,” she announced. “Or his father, if Theodore is found. Any intelligence regarding secession or revolt against them is to be forwarded to New Samarkand HPG as a priority so ROM can look at ways to leak the details to the ISF. The Diamond Sharks are one thing, but if the regiments facing the Ghost Bears and Smoke Jaguars collapse then they will race across Benjamin and Dieron Districts to reach the old Terran Hegemony.”
“Do they have the resources to do that?” asked Tiger Lily in concern. “I had understood that their logistics were under strain and they have certainly taken a few reverses - minor ones for now.”
“The addition of two new Clans may just be the beginning,” Wei told her. “Our sources suggest that Clan Ghost Bear is committing a force at least twenty percent larger than any other Clan so far, and they aren’t occupying worlds back to the Periphery. If they advance as quickly as the Diamond Sharks then that would place them as near to Terra as Ashio by the end of next year.”
“At least our neutrality should protect us that far,” Precentor Luthien observed drily. “Although that’s worryingly close to Terra.”
Wei nodded. “We must consider the possibility that the current agreement with the Clans may not hold up. The Precentor Martial and I are discussing options to defend Terra. At this point, the weight of argument seems to be that if we must take military action then it should be done before they get close to Terra.”
“I absolutely agree,” Tiger Lily said flatly. “Terra must not be placed at risk.”
Murphy folded his arms. “However, there is also the matter of our enclaves on worlds occupied by the Clans. I am not necessarily opposed to fighting the Clans, but if we are seen as their enemies they will drive us from their Occupation Zones and we would be in no position to evacuate the HPG staffs with our fleet supporting an active military deployment. Not to mention the general populations of the larger enclaves.”
“It is a weighty question,” Wei agreed heavily. “I will be glad to consider suggestions made to resolve this. I do not desire a military conflict but one may be forced upon us, and if that is so then we have an obligation to see it done with the greatest possible chances of success.”
More than twenty precentors looked at each other, as if wondering who would be the first to speak.
Rather than waiting, Wei raised one hand. “Think upon the matter and consult with your staffs. If you have questions on military plausibility, each of you has a liaison officer from the ComGuards available. You may expect scheduling instructions before the end of the year to assemble on Terra so we can discuss options, although it will be February or March before we can all meet in person.”
She sighed. “In the meantime, we will continue to engage with the Clans. In particular, Clan Smoke Jaguar have approached our Order with an offer of restitution towards both us and the people of Rasalhague. Details should be reaching you now. I am not entirely pleased with the offer, but realistically we can only keep the Clan interdicted for so long before they react in ways beyond our control.”
Razing every HPG station they could reach would do nothing to help the Smoke Jaguars, but at this point it was hard to say that it would make their communications issues worse. And it would kill tens of thousand of ComStar members - tens of millions if you counted the residents of the enclaves…
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I see ComStar and the clanners still don't understand where they're each coming from... (these new emojis are TOTALLY lacking... :p)
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Takashi's last battle was epic!
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Indeed! And for a clanner to have performed a DFA to do it too! :shocked:
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Wow.
Just wow. The first House Lord to fall is Takashi, and in the classic fashion.
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If the Kuritas are lucky, Theodore won't be the second... but I think the odds are even on that...
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If the Kuritas are lucky, Theodore won't be the second... but I think the odds are even on that...
I'd suspect Theodore and Tomoe are already dead, and just haven't been identified yet, but I don't think Drakensis would leave us hanging like that.
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It'll be interesting to see what mix of Jaime, Natasha, Theodore, and Tomoe still survive. I don't think the author is going to kill off all four of those in addition to Takashi and Morgon all in the same battle. Which survive and in what circumstances will be quite telling. Quite a few combinations and options of captured, killed, wounded, in hiding, etc, that could spin off in various ways. I also believe that there is no way that Ace will be allowed to keep using such a light mech either until they allow him to challenge for the right to do it after the invasion is over.
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Ace will also need constant elemental escort, ISF is definitely going after him.
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They already tried and failed to talk him into a heavier 'mech. Now that he's killed a Successor Lord in a Stormcrow, I don't think they'll have ANY chance... ;)
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Besides, it's not like a Dire Wolf would have any more head armor :grin:
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So, the Smoke Jaguars are talking about giving Comstar larger staging grounds on every world they hold, have the worst logistics, and are gonna be using Comstar HPGs to try and fix their logistical problems?
Can you say 'ComStar Protectorate Corridor'? Or at least 'partisan training camps?'
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So now Ace has given two members of the Kurita family a samurai´s death.
That has got to count for something.
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So now Ace has given two members of the Kurita family a samurai´s death.
That has got to count for something.
Yup. Every DEST Team, the Bounty Hunter, and even the Nekogami in the Combine have the same target. Enders better up his game.
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Yup. Every DEST Team, the Bounty Hunter, and even the Nekogami in the Combine have the same target. Enders better up his game.
Quite to the contrary, I think. From the point of view of Combine society, he is the ONE guy among the Clans who seems to understand the concept of honor.
Sure, the DCMS samurai are going to trip over each other trying to be the one who defeats him. But House Kurita isn´t going to want him dead at any cost - if they had him assassinated, they´d be left with the likes of the butchers of Reykjavik as leaders among the Clans.
Plus, what happened is probably exactly the way Takashi wanted to go out. The sort of person he saw himself as dies either in battle, by assassination, or by seppuku - and of those three, battle is by far the preferable option. As they said in "Last Samurai": "A samurai dies by the sword, either his own or that of his enemy."
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I like your argument! :smilie_happy_thumbup:
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Also if they have Ace assassinated it implies that they were afraid to face him in battle. Something enemies of the Combine can use to humiliate them for years.
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Opalescent Reflections
House of Cards
Chapter 6
Imperial City, Luthien
Clan Diamond Shark Occupation Zone
10 December 3050
“I am not saying it is beyond repair,” Gideon told Ace firmly, “But for the time and parts needed, it is more efficient to strip it to repair other ‘mechs.” The technician was cleaning his hands with a rag. “You were hard on it.”
“Most of that was the fault of the enemy,” Ace pointed out defensively.
Gideon eyed him suspiciously. “So the enemy jumped and drove their cockpit directly into the foot? Because I do not recall that model of ‘mech having jump jets.”
“I said most of the fault, not all of the fault.”
“I would need to strip one leg up to the knee to deal with the damage to the actuators,” the aging technician told him. “And that is the good leg.”
Ace raised his hands in surrender. “You are the expert, Gideon.” Losing his ‘mech was unfortunate but if it got other omnimechs back in service then he had no real grounds for complaint. Casualties - human and in terms of equipment - had been high across the board. Triage was sorting both to get as many of both fit for use again, but the touman was in no state for another battle,
Whether there would be enough time to have them back in something resembling fighting trim by the time the next wave of attacks was due to begin was another question. Ace doubted that anyone knew yet - the technicians were still assessing the full impact.
“I appreciate all your hard work,” Ace added. He had heard of Barbara Sennet’s message to the technician caste and - perhaps inspired by it - the support staff had been putting every waking hour into making good damage taken. Without them, the battle might have turned out very differently.
The final numbers were in that they had faced the equivalent of twelve regiments of battlemechs, bringing the level of opposition to the point that Ace would have been tempted to abort. And the battle was not over - the majority of Luthien remained under the control of the Combine civil authorities and such forces as had managed to escape the fighting. Securing the planet would not be easy - there were literally billions of citizens to deal with.
Gideon reached up and massaged the side of his neck. “I would appreciate it if you could take better care of your next ‘mech.”
“I will do my best,” Ace promised, although he knew it had much less weight than either would like. “Are the tech crews getting enough rest?”
“We are getting a staged twelve hours on and the same off since the city fell,” the older Diamond Shark assured him. “It is slowing repairs, but not as much as the errors that sleep deprivation would cause.”
Ace was about to discuss ordering warriors to help the techs where they were not already doing so - mechwarriors and elementals had to know some of the maintenance skills for their own weapons - but his comm buzzed. He stepped back apologetically, and tapped the device. “Ace Enders.”
“Galaxy Commander, there are nine battlemechs approaching the base,” Norman reported. He was covering command post duties until his own Gargoyle was repaired. Hopefully it was in a better state than Ace’s Stormcrow.
“I understand. What do we have to intercept them?” Ace asked, turning and making long strides in the direction of the command post.
“Julian’s Star is moving to intercept and another is getting mounted up,” the mechwarrior replied. “But they don’t seem to be moving in to attack.”
To be fair, attacking the Twenty-First Assault Cluster with just nine battlemechs would be a rather rash decision. They had almost twenty battlemechs in fighting shape - if in need of further repair work when the opportunity arose, but able to fight. And it was unlikely that the approaching force were in much better state.
It didn’t take long the reach the command post - the same prefab building that had been used on the march from the original landing site. Dropships had moved up now that there were no air defenses to worry about, but no one entirely trusted the DCMS facilities yet. There was probably nothing wrong with them, but one booby trap could wipe out a trinary if they had missed one.
Inside, Ace found Norman hunched over a console. “Sir, they are offering you a challenge.” He held up a headset.
“Me?” Ace checked it was muted and then donned it. “By name?”
“They just asked for the commander.” The mechwarrior lent forwards in his chair. “They claim to be Wolves.”
“Well, Wolf Dragoons… you mean Clan Wolf? First generation Wolf Dragoons?”
“Aff.”
Ace unmuted himself. “This is Galaxy Commander Ace Enders of Clan Diamond Shark.”
“And I am Galaxy Commander Natasha Kerensky of Clan Wolf,” a woman’s voice replied. “I claim the use of a dropship and jumpship to take my binary to our Clan’s invasion corridor. What do you bid in defense?”
Kerensky? Ace pulled himself over to one of the consoles and ran a check to see if he had a file on the original Wolf Dragoons membership. “Under the circumstances, I would have to verify your identity.”
“I don’t recall that being a requirement for a trial’s bidding,” she replied quickly. “Or did all the real warriors die fighting the snakes?”
“No, but you do not even sound like a Clan warrior,” Ace pointed out. “And the Combine have tried to trick us with false identification before. What is a Wolf binary doing here?”
“We were with the Wolf Dragoons, obviously. But it’s time to rejoin the Clan. If you don’t have the guts to fight then you can just hand the ships and crews over, Galaxy Commander.”
“I think not,” Ace said crisply. He had found the file he wanted and sorted the list for bloodnamed personnel. There was indeed a Natasha Kerensky on the list. “If you want transport back to your Clan then we may be able to work something out, but I doubt they would thank me for sending a fake, so I want to meet you first to check your identity.”
“...I’d say you were paranoid, but given the Combine, you may have a point,” the woman conceded. “Alright, how do you want to play this?”
“Dismount and one of my mechwarriors will bring you to the command post.” He looked over at Norman, muting his microphone. “Relay that to Julian.”
“You’re asking a lot of trust from me now,” Natasha objected.
“What sort of Wolf lacks the courage to face those they challenge?” Ace asked her.
That got a laugh. “You have me there. Okay kid, but if this turns into a trap, I’ll have my binary storm the camp and it’ll take more than a couple of stars to stop us.”
“Thank you for the warning,” he answered and removed the headset.
“Julian will send her back,” Norman told him. “Are you sure this is a good idea?”
“Neg,” Ace admitted. “But I am curious. And we can take reasonable precautions.” He gave orders for two Elemental guards - and to prepare for potentially hosting a binary of visiting Clan Wolf warriors.
A few minutes later, a red-haired woman who looked as old as the late Coordinator walked in. Despite the lines on her face, she stood straight and moved confidently. “So which of you is Ace Enders?” she asked, looking around the room as if she was the one in charge.
“That would be me.”
“Blake’s blood, how old are you?”
“Twenty…” he recalled that his birthday had passed during the battle, “Four.”
Natasha seemed bemused. “Did we kill the previous galaxy commander? I know attrition’s been harsh but I was thirty before I won my rank.”
Ace shook his head. “I was in command when we landed.” He had checked the limited data available on Natasha Kerensky while he waited and her comment scratched off one of the questions he’d planned to ask her - that was the right year of rank.
The redhead shook her head. “It feels like I should be asking you to prove your identity, but since you say so…” She reversed one of the chairs and sat down straddling it. “How do you want to prove who I am? I doubt Clan Wolf has given blood samples out.”
Ace checked his notes. “If you are who you say you are, you’ve fought our Clan before. What world was it?”
“...that was a long time ago.” She closed her eyes for a moment. “Paxon, I think.”
That was correct. “Which unit?”
“I was with the 328th Assault Cluster, I don’t recall who we were against.”
Ace nodded. She was right about her own unit, which was what he had meant. “Alright. And according to my information, only one other warrior graduated from your sibko. What was his name?”
“Ha. Nice try,” she told him. “It was Rilla - Cyrilla Ward. How did you know that?”
Also correct. “We keep files on high ranking officers in other Clans. You’re a footnote on hers.”
The Wolf’s eyes flashed. “Watch your mouth, punk.”
“My nose gets in the way,” he told her wryly and set the noteputer down. “Very well, I accept that you are who you say you are. Moving on to your challenge, I think it would be unfair to bid less than two binaries in defense of our dropship… given your greater age and experience.” Then he spread his hands. “Or would you like to make a deal.”
“You surat,” she growled. “It’d serve you right if I had the whole Black Widows turn up, then see how your two binaries managed.”
“I was thinking we’d send them from the aerospace forces,” Ace replied cheerfully. “Forty aerospace fighters should make mincemeat of your ‘mechs. But I take it that you are interested in bargaining.”
Natasha leant forwards on her chair. “You don’t even look like a Diamond Shark,” she complained. “Burrock descent - that’s where the bloodname comes from, isn’t it?” When he inclined his head, the aged woman continued: “But you do sound like a Shark. Alright, what are you wanting?”
“I would like a Clan Galaxy Commander’s full debrief on everything she can remember about her experiences fighting in the Inner Sphere,” Ace told her. “More than forty years of experience counts for a lot and since I arrived here, I have developed a suspicion that what got passed on was edited - the politics of the Grand Council can cause problems like that.”
That surprised her and she leant back slightly. “I couldn’t say,” she admitted after a moment. “I am willing - but just a debriefing, I’m not agreeing to you wringing me dry with chemical interrogation and then handing me over to Clan Wolf in a year or two.”
Ace pretended disappointment. “Oh well, if you want the express transport option then I’ll have to ask you for a little more.” He wasn’t sure what to ask for a moment and then had a thought. “Perhaps frequency and encryption for a radio channel we can use to contact the Wolf Dragoons.” It was possible that others might be induced to take the same sort of deal - he doubted that mercenaries would want to fight a long-running guerilla war on Luthien.
Natasha frowned. “I can give you one such channel,” she conceded. “But I want your word that we’ll be on the first shipment across to the Wolves. I know you’ve got to be trading supplies with everyone.”
She would be wrong about that, Ace thought. “Not so much as you may think. But by all means - if there is nothing soon, then the next time the ilKhan calls for a Grand Kurultai, my Khan can take you to meet with the Wolf Khans. Until then you and your warriors will be extended our hospitality.”
The woman nodded in agreement. “Bargained well and done.” She offered her hand and Ace accepted, shaking hands. “I get the feeling I’ll find out from someone here how you got to be a Galaxy Commander when you’re barely old enough to shave,” she added, releasing her grip on his hands.
“It is not a very long story,” Ace said modestly.
“It hardly could be at your age.”
He let her have the last word, turning and sending word to Julian that the ‘mechs were to be allowed in and the mechwarriors made welcome. Hospitality would mean a tent and the same camp rations being issued at the moment, but if that wasn’t to their taste that was just too bad.
Once Natasha was gone, he opened a channel to Gamma Galaxy headquarters. It only took a few moments for Barbara Sennet to be available. “I was meaning to contact you later today,” she greeted him abruptly. “Is there a problem?”
“More of an opportunity,” he replied and outlined what had happened.
There as a long moment of silence before she asked: “You believe her account will be that valuable?”
“All our information about the Inner Sphere comes from ComStar or from the Combine’s own accounts which are obviously biased,” Ace pointed out. “An independent viewpoint from a Clan warrior could help us to avoid future problems as we expand our own firsthand knowledge. And at the end of the day, one Union on a dropship collar next time you attend a Grand Kurultai is not going to eat into our shipping very much.”
The Khan frowned. “We are more stretched than you may think. I have already decided that one Galaxy will be remaining on Luthien - we cannot afford to keep supplying four galaxies on the advance.”
Ace nodded in understanding. “We will need forces here to pacify the planet, and I suppose it reduces pressure to bring Omega Galaxy up to strength quickly if they are based here.”
“Those are valid points, but I do not plan to leave Omega Galaxy,” Sennet told him. “We are better supplied with secondline equipment, and Luthien is valuable enough that there could be an attempt to liberate it so I am leaving you here with Alpha Galaxy”
That wasn’t a possibility Ace had considered. He opened his mouth to object and then paused, weighing the reasons.
“If you challenge me,” the Khan warned him, “I will go out of my way to choose a means of combat I know you are not skilled in. This is not forever, and completing the conquest will add to your prestige more than taking other worlds that are of no real note.”
“I would not say that our targets in the next wave are unimportant,” Ace disagreed. “But I will not challenge the decision. There is enough sense to what you say that I would be putting my pride above my duty.”
“Good. For what it is worth,” she added, “You have proven your competence as a Galaxy Commander. I will have a posting for you when I take over Alpha Galaxy, but that will be put off again, obviously.” She paused. “Now, what do you propose to do with the frequency for the Wolf Dragoons?”
“It seems to me that they would likely be unhappy about the prospect of fighting a guerilla war on Luthien,” he explained. “The DCMS soldiers may attempt it but the mercenaries have other concerns. They might be willing to accept a batchall to come out and face us if we offer them free passage should they win.”
“An interesting idea,” Sennet allowed. “However, that would cost us more in troops and equipment, when we are already in need of more of both. There is another option. Open the channel now and I will offer them a bargain.”
Ace glanced over at Norman and the two of them set up the transmission. “We will be live in three seconds, my Khan. Two, one…”
“Greetings to the Wolf Dragoons,” Sennet declared formally. “I am Barbara Sennet, Khan of Clan Diamond Shark and victor on Luthien. I wish to speak to Jaime Wolf or one of his officers.”
There was a long pause and Ace had almost come to the conclusion that they were being ignored when a man spoke. “I am Major Mackenize Wolf, current commander of the Wolf Dragoons on Luthien. What do you want?”
Sennet seemed unfazed by the blunt reply. “I take it that you are familiar with Clan customs, Major?”
“I wasn’t born in the homeworlds, but I know of them,” he admitted.
“Very well. Out of respect to the valiance of your troops, I offer you hegira,” the Khan told him. “If you accept, we will grant you safe passage to your dropships, release any of your captured warriors who wish to rejoin you and then permit them to travel to whichever jump point you find convenient. It will be up to you to arrange jumpships out of the system but I am sure ComStar will be cooperative.”
“What is in it for you?” Wolf asked suspiciously. “Diamond Sharks have been pretty anal about trying not to let troops escape them up to now.”
“That is true, Major. However, you are mercenaries - and moreover, you are a unit descended from Clan warriors. We have no real quarrel with you, and allowing you depart will let us focus on the DCMS forces - who I assume will not retreat no matter what you offer. If you prefer to remain here and fight us for however long it takes us to run you down, this is acceptable of course.”
Wolf hesitated. “Since you said you have no quarrel, what about the Kell Hounds?”
“I have no contact information for them,” Sennet admitted freely. “If you can relay the offer to them, the terms are the same and the offer is open for the next forty-eight hours. After that, your dropships will be considered valid targets.”
-
Yamashiro, New Samarkand
Galedon Military District, Draconis Combine
5 January 3051
Previously Minoru had not entered the Black Chamber beneath the old palace. Even as the assumed heir, should the worst happen -
(Which had happened).
- he did not have the status to be seated at the high command of the DCMS, much less to lead the meetings. But today, after the rituals of purification and enthronement -
(Clad in the red and black haori that only his grandfather should be wearing).
- and ceremonies before the entire court, Minoru was Coordinator of the Draconis Combine and the room belonged to him. As he walked down the long staircase, broken by five landings that each had their own security requirements, he allowed himself to relax slightly. Even to pause and take time to try to center himself.
It would have been a dreadful day even if, partway through the preparations, Subdash Indrahar had not taken the liberty of interrupting him with an update of more bad news.
This was his life now.
Before he opened the door at the bottom of the stairs, Minoru checked himself in a small mirror there and took a deep breath. He was no longer a young chu-i, nor a mere grandson. He was the dragon and he must rule or he would be ruled over by the power brokers of the Draconis Combine - reduced to a puppet, as had once happened to the Emperors of Japan.
With his chi centred, Minoru opened the door and entered the chamber. Desultory conversion at the table ceased and four pairs of eyes went to him as he let the door close and crossed to his chair.
The room was not actually black, it was comfortably furnished and lit. But the space that he saw was barely a third the volume of the chamber. The rest was ancient machinery of Star League origins intended to keep every possible means of communication or intrusion from entering.
Here in the Black Chamber, the Coordinator and his warlords plotted the future of the Draconis Combine and of - eventually - all mankind. No security measure could be considered too extreme.
Sat at the head of the table, the Coordinator tipped his hand slightly to Subhash Indrahar. “Inform them.”
His grandfather’s old friend wasn’t in one of the comfortable chairs, he preferred his own wheelchair. How the ISF chief got down the other staircase, Minoru had no idea. Possibly someone carried him to the threshold. “Now he looked even more ancient than ever, hands almost trembling. “One of our agents on Luthien has reported on the status of other members of House Kurita,” he informed the group. His usual smile was gone. “It is now almost certain that the Son of the Dragon perished upon the battlefield.”
The Warlord of Dieron lowered his head. “You are sure?” he enquired solemnly. Michi Noketsuna was usually cheerful and confident man - but he was also Theodore Kurita’s trusted friend.
“Our agent has made contact with DCMS personnel being used as bondsmen,” Indrahar said softly.
Boris Petroff almost spat. “Traitors. They should have ended their lives with honor, as Hohiro-sama… did…” He looked guiltily at Minoru.
The Coordinator did not respond to the Warlord of Benjamin’s gaffe except to wait for Indrahar to continue.
“The soldiers in question have been asked to refrain from doing so, in order to gather further information on our behalf,” the old man explained. “They are sacrificing their personal honor for the sake of the Combine, which is itself an act of honor.”
Minoru hoped they would be rewarded in the next life, because there was damn all he could do for them at the moment.
“According to their reports, a command variant Hatamoto-chi has been recovered and both occupants had been killed after short-range missiles penetrated the cockpit,” Indrahar continued. “It is not clear if the Diamond Sharks have managed identification, but we know that only one such battlemech was deployed, and we know that the Kanrei and his wife were using it. We must regrettably conclude that neither will be able to provide guidance to the Dragon in the future.” Even if they had survived, Takashi’s instructions for the succession had been specific: unless Theodore was free to confirm his ability to take control of the Combine by the new year, he was specifically removed from succession to clear Minoru’s path. If his parents had escaped - something he had prayed for every day (almost every hour) until the quick briefing this morning - then Theodore would have found himself Kanrei for life, serving his own son.
(Minoru would have considered that awkward position - being an unfilial son who took his father’s office - gladly if it meant they were with him).
Li Dok To, Warlord of Galedon, leant forwards. “They will be avenged,” he promised bluntly. The same four words he had uttered when he heard of Takashi Kurita’s death. The veteran officer was not prone to flamboyant language, but he was loyal. Minoru’s new capital lay within the warlord’s district, which made the latter invaluable.
After letting those worlds settle down, Li turned towards Noketsuma. “I am given to understand that you have diverted shipping to transport the Wolf Dragoons and Kell Hounds back to the Federated Commonwealth - even after they fled Luthien.”
The younger warlord smiled coldly. “Your understanding is not without basis.”
“Since they are cowards who fled once the Diamond Sharks invited them to, you should have taken their ‘mechs. Then it would take only one dropship to send them back and we could use the ‘mechs.”
Noketsuna tilted his head. “I will not speak of the Kell Hounds since I believe it is the Wolf Dragoons who bear your ire. It would ill-repay those who fought for no less coin than honor alone to steal from them.”
Minoru knew that Li Dok To had served in Galedon District as far back as the disastrous scheming by Grieg Samsonov to force the Wolf Dragoons into disbanding and joining the DCMS, but he did not recall whether the old general had been part of that matter. Clearly Noketsuna did remember… and he had been aide to the famous Minobu Tetsuhara, who had died in the debacle.
“If the Dragon and the Wolf can forget their feud to fight as allies,” he murmured, “Can their followers do less?”
Both warlords turned their heads and then bowed their heads slightly. “Christian Kell also evacuated surviving warriors of the Genyosha by claiming them as his own when their position was cut off,” Noketsuna continued more moderately. “More than a dozen warriors with experience of surviving battles against the Clans - a scarce resource since the Sharks seem reluctant to allow escape from them.”
“In addition to the information about your parents, Tono,” Indrahar continued, “There is better news of your sister. As of forty-eight hours ago we know that she was alive and had avoided capture. The Order of Five Pillars are working to hide court officials and skilled workers from the Diamond Sharks. Lady Omi has taken a lead in these efforts.”
“How long can they stay hidden?” the Coordinator asked seriously.
The old spymaster spread his hand. “That is an imponderable, Tono. Luthien’s population is not small and this is to your sister’s advantage, but the Diamond Sharks are not entirely inept in turning populations towards them.”
“Including the yakuza,” grumbled Petroff. “Can we even trust the Ghost Regiments when we hear about yakuza working with the Diamond Sharks on captured worlds? You know that their membership is mostly gangsters.”
“The yakuza situation is complex,” Indrahar observed. “True collaboration is rare and some are actively supporting efforts to destabilize the invader’s rule. Unfortunately, the Sharks have shown more patience than most of the other Clans when it comes to such matters, while also being quite ruthless when they are able to tie such acts to the groups.” He paused. “I suspect that some of their officers may have captured manuals for our own occupation practices on worlds taken under the Dragon’s rule. There has been a significant upswing in the capability of their garrisons.”
“‘The most dangerous enemy is one who can learn’,” the Coordinator quoted. He turned to Petroff. “What is the record of Ghost Regiments who have fought against the Clans?”
Evidently that information was not at the Warlord’s fingertips as he had to open one of the consoles built into the table to find out. After a moment’s typing, he reported: “Five of the Ghost Regiments have been committed to battle the Clans. The First and Fourth Regiments were destroyed by the Diamond Sharks’ Alpha Galaxy on Cyrenaica, the Second at about the same time on Carpare. Previously, the Sixth and Eighth Regiments took heavy losses with the Eighth disbanded to bring the Sixth Regiment back up to strength. The Seventh Ghost Regiment based on McAlister and has raided occupied worlds twice, with some small victories.”
“Even small victories have been hard to come by, this last year,” observed Li Dok To.
Petroff took a deep breath. “I confess, it is not a record that suggests disloyalty. If it were a more honored brigade, I would apologize to their standard in the hall of the Ministry.” The Ghost Regiments did not currently have a banner among those displayed outside the Ministry of the Expansion of the Glories of the Draconis Combine - they remained somewhat covert in nature, having been kept a complete secret from the Federated Commonwealth until they were deployed in 3039 and were still not always recognised.
“Their losses reflect a greater problem,” Li Dok To observed. “We have seen tremendous losses. Besides the Ghost Regiments and the loss of three-quarters of the Sword of Light on Luthien, three regiments of Galedon District Regulars have been lost already - the Pesht and Alshain brigades are all but extinct. Can we continue to throw regiments into the path of the Clans?”
“We have few options,” Noketsuna answered. “If they were minor border worlds I would counsel to gather forces for a decisive strike but the simple fact is, they are assaulting some of the most valuable industrial worlds we have. Three Dieron Regular regiments are also gone, and the Forty-First may not survive the Smoke Jaguars’ assault on Alshain. We cannot evacuate shipyards and factories in the time we have.”
“Tono,” Petroff said quietly. “The DCMS will die to the last to defend the Combine, but as matters stand that is a real possibility. Close to a third of our battlemech forces have been disbanded, destroyed or will need years to recover. Losses are proportionately lower for infantry and armor only because fewer have been redeployed to fight these battles. The loss of two Sun Zhang Cadres leaves us with a shortage of replacement mechwarriors for at least a year - and the First Cadre is on Alshain with Warlord Dieron’s Forty-First Regiment. We need a new strategy.”
The Coordinator did not disagree, “My ears are open,” he said quietly.
“The costs of what I propose will be steep,” the warlord continued firmly. “We must evacuate workers and information from the Clan’s path, at least within my own District. Units deployed there will be fighting holding actions only, and additional aerospace assets provided so we have some chance to withdraw them. Refits and new production should be sent to regiments out of that path.”
“Are you planning to effectively cede worlds between the Clans and Dieron?” asked Noketsuna. He kept his voice non-confrontation. “I ask this sincerely, not in criticism.”
Petroff exhaled. “You cannot possibly hate the idea more than I. But the only solution I see is to establish a force of upgraded battlemechs and other equipment, which means we cannot expend such fighting in the near term. More worlds will fall in the time that takes - but once such a force exists, it can be used to retake Luthien and the worlds around it - severing the supply lines for the Diamond Sharks and Ghost Bears. The ISF’s reports -” He bowed slightly to Indrahar “- suggest that the Smoke Jaguars will be unlikely to aid their fellow Clans.”
Minoru hated the idea, viscerally. Giving up more worlds to the Clans? After so much already had been lost?
“Is that the beginning you want for the Coordinator’s reign?” demanded Li Dok To, scowling across the table at Petroff.
“No. But I would like the Combine to survive so that our lord is not the last Coordinator, the end of all our history and traditions.”
“Your concerns are noted,” the Coordinator cut them off. He looked at each man in turn. “Begin evacuating workers, information and such tooling as possible. Li Dok To, your part is to provide secure sites to resume production as quickly as possible. Work with the Department of Procurement and spare no expense, not to just set up new factories but to have them building new technology.”
Indrahar leant forwards slightly. “If I may offer counsel, not on behalf of the ISF but in my experience of the previous reign?”
Minoru simply looked at him.
“Luthien Armor Works and Alshain Weaponry had begun work on new factories on Tok Do, but with that world in the path of the Clans they are now going to have to move their efforts to somewhere in Galedon or Pesht District. Initial reports suggest that the rescue of the workers your sister is sheltering would contribute greatly,” the old man said. “It would also bolster morale… if it is possible to find forces for such a raid.”
Hilton Head, North America
Terra, Sol System
15 March 3051
Rather than the usual chamber, Wei had assembled the First Circuit in a large meeting room that had more amenities. Like chairs. She was fairly sure that one of the reasons that most meetings were held standing was to keep them from over-running, but right now she wanted the gathered Precentors to take their time and actually engage with each other.
Perhaps they could come up with options more palatable than those her staff and Focht’s had presented to her.
Everyone settled down as Wei took the podium. “In the twelve months since the Clans returned, they have repeatedly proven to be a greater threat than any of the Successor States encountered,” she said quietly but clearly. “More worlds have changed hands in less time than we saw in the Fourth Succession War - and we are also aware that due to logistical constraints, this is not their full strength. IlKhan Leo Showers has made no secret that their goal is to create a new Star League in their own image, destroying the Successor States in the process.”
Wei paused to let that sink in. “Some of my more frustrated predecessors as Primus might have applauded. Unfortunately, the Clans have proven to be no better than the Successor Lords. The destruction of Reykjavik, which killed Thorne and millions of others is the most egregious of their actions, but reports from the occupation zones report actions that range from the pragmatic to the reprehensible. Their intention to impose their culture without regard to the societies they are now ruling is causing tragedies every day.”
“Respectfully, Primus,” Tiger Lily rose to her feet. “Our Blessed Order has seen such tragedies before, many times.”
“That is entirely true, Precentor,” Wei agreed, choosing not to make an issue of the interruption. “Nor is this the first time that we have had to fight to defend enclaves under our protection. However, it has been been over a century since our ability to defend our neutrality has been seriously challenged. At that time, the threat of military force was sufficient to force Coordinator Hugai Kurita to back down - and his actions were limited to a single abduction of a ComStar acolyte from one of our hospices.” Wei folded her hands. “We now face the possibility of losing control of Terra and the factories that allow us to continue our operation of HPGs - and of leaving billions who live peacefully under our protection under Clan rule.”
“Despite hopes that the fall of Luthien three months ago would exhaust the Clans’ resources, this has not proven to be the case. A further wave of attacks has been completed and despite all the opposition they face, the Clans appear confident in launching an eighth wave within the next few weeks at best. Projections are that wave will wipe out what remains of the Free Rasalhague Republic and leave the Clans within six or seven jumps of Terra.”
Wei looked at the First Circuit and more than a few had fear in their eyes. “There is currently no change in the expectation that our current immunity to attack will be overturned once the Clans’ khans believe that they have a realistic chance of taking Terra.”
“I thought the AFFC were mounting a counterattack,” enquired Precentor Sian without standing.
Wei glanced over at Anastasius Focht. “I believe it would be appropriate to hand over to the Precentor Martial to address the current state of military affairs.”
The white-haired officer rose from his seat at the side with other department heads and replaced Wei at the podium, waiting until she had taken her seat on the other side of the room where she could see both the podium and the First Circuit.
“The Federated Commonwealth has committed fourteen Regimental Combat Teams and six other commands, in order to keep four worlds attacked during the sixth and seventh waves contested,” he reported. “Please note - this is not retaking the worlds, it is more accurate to say that Morges, Bountiful Harvest, New Exford and Kandersteg have not fallen. With each defended on the level of Pesht, this is tying up more than a galaxy from both Clan Jade Falcon and Clan Nova Cat - neither Clan seems willing to cut their losses and withdraw and nor do they seem willing to slow their advance into the Inner Sphere, leaving them with weaker forces.”
He paused and brought up a map. “The current expectation is that Summit, Garrison and potentially Arcturus - given its historic importance - will be defended in the same way with forces continuing to arrive. It seems likely that both Clans will have to choose between either surrendering those worlds - which would free up the AFFC forces there for an actual counterattack - or ceasing their advance after the ninth or tenth wave. It seems reasonably unlikely that these two Clans pose an immediate risk to Terra.”
Then he moved his pointer to the shrinking territory of the Free Rasalhague Republic. Only six worlds still glowed with the indigo hue that was used to indicate the state. “Clan Wolf faces no such challenge. Losses taken by the Kungsarme on Tukkayid have reduced them to seven effective commands, one of them - Tyr - having been recently formed out of militia and volunteers. They are currently refitting and reorganizing on Orestes -” The Precentor Martial indicated the world furthest from the Clans “- and Camlann.” The second world was the crimson of the Draconis Combine.
“What does Minoru Kurita have to say about that?” asked Joseph Buckley.
Precentor Andrew Norris cleared his throat. “I haven’t had the chance to speak to him, but Precentor New Samarkand assisted in negotiating the use of facilities there as the Kungsarme no longer have the bases needed to operate their full force from. The Kungsarme forces there will likely remain in place to defend Camlann from Clan Wolf or Clan Smoke Jaguar.”
Focht nodded. “It is not currently clear if Clan Wolf’s next wave will reach Orestes or Camlann, but it seems likely that every other world of the Republic as well as the Federated Commonwealth’s worlds along that border will be targeted. Kelenfold, the local command center has been partly evacuated of support staff - so whether it’s the Jade Falcons or the Wolves that secure the right to attack it, the world has almost certainly been written off. Clan Wolf is, at this stage, judged very likely to carry on and secure worlds in the Skye and Dieron regions that could be used to strike at Terra.”
He moved the pointer to the next Clan. “The Smoke Jaguars similarly have no real concerns along their flanks. There are multiple single-world insurrections going on behind them, but for the most part they are keeping them isolated by cutting off access to our HPGs and moving a small number of garrison units to squash each rising one at a time.” The one-eyed man lowered the pointer. “Their reprisals are brutal, but to be honest, they are not out of line with practices used by any of the Successor States historically. It’s questionable how much of their corridor they will really control by the time they reach Terra, but that is a price they are willing to pay.”
Wei pretended to study her display. She’d read the reports of some of those reprisals and regretted it. And as much as it had disturbed her sleep since, it had been far worse for those who experienced them first hand. Those who survived.
“The loss of Alshain has left the remains of that military district in a state of collapse and Xinyang Prefecture is also falling. There is scattered resistance, but our analysis is that it is mostly buying time for the evacuation of critical equipment and personnel.” Focht shook his head, “There seems little doubt that Clan Smoke Jaguar and Clan Ghost Bear will push across Benjamin District by the summer. The latter, in particular, have comparatively low garrison needs and a large force, making them a major threat.”
“That leaves the Diamond Sharks.” He looked at Norris. “Since taking Luthien they have focused on industrial worlds near the capital such as Avon and Chatham, which has left them lagging behind the other Clans. Our intelligence suggests they intend to resume the advance, with a particular goal of taking Dover - a major industrial world that the Ghost Bears didn’t quite reach in the last wave. From their, our expectation is that they will target the District capital of Benjamin. If the DCMS does intend to mount a defense of any world in the next few months, that will be where they make a stand. Losing another district capital after Luthien would underscore the new Coordinator’s inability to defend his realm and the consequences for that are… hard to predict.”
“In summary,” Focht told the First Circuit. “At least three of the Clans are likely to pose a threat to Terra, a fourth may. Only two are unlikely - unless, of course, they resort to extreme measures. Pride can push people to take actions they otherwise might not.”
“If we had our full warship fleet we wouldn’t have to fear the Clans,” snapped Newton Fawcett. The Precentor for Talitha was one of Buckley’s cronies, when they weren’t verbally jostling for dominance among the religious extreme of ComStar. “With Odessa as a base, they could sweep across the invasion and shatter it before the Clans came close to Terra.”
“And if they had never returned in the first place, we wouldn’t be having this conversation,” Joe Murphy shot back. “We must deal with the situation as it is.”
Fawcett came halfway to his feet. “We could have had the fleet if the Primus hadn’t frittered the budget away on her pet projects!”
“Since you weren’t part of that debate,” Tiger Lily cut in, “You seem to be operating on incomplete information.”
“Like what? You voted with her to cut the naval spending.”
Wei stepped forwards to reclaim the podium. “Actually, Precentor Atreus voted for naval spending to increase.” She nodded towards the woman in question. “Since we had comparatively little at the time. If you are referring to the original proposal to activate our entire warship fleet, the most optimistic estimate for doing so would have taken until 3053 - and the experience of the current fleet suggests strongly that that was too optimistic. The only way we would have had the entire warship fleet active by now would have been to start before I was Primus or to cut corners on the programme, and the costs would have been astronomical.”
Fawcett sank back into his seat reluctantly.
Buckley tried to hide satisfaction. “I believe that continuing and expanding the warship fleet is justified once the current construction is completed?” he asked innocently. “It may not be available for our current crisis but now that the Clans are here with their fleets we need a more capable fleet.”
“I must unfortunately agree,” Wei admitted, letting her reluctance show. “Plans are underway to double production of Dante-class frigates and eleven additional ships - four Black Lion-class battlecruisers and seven Aegis-class cruisers - are being prepared for refit and reactivation. In addition, a new destroyer design is under development for production alongside the Dantes. Over the next five years we expect to bring the ComGuard fleet up to forty warships - although this does depend heavily on retaining control of the Titan shipyards and of Terra’s industrial capacity.”
It was going to involve some serious austerity measures and the only reasons she’d not cut the Venusian programme as well was that the solar shade would also serve as a training facility for the construction workers building and maintaining the warships. “I hope that this is satisfactory, Precentor Buckley.”
He dipped his head slightly. “Once again, Primus, your foresight proves that Blake himself must have protected you from the terrible events five years ago.”
Somehow, Wei doubted if Jerome Blake would have been caught dead where she’d been at the time. The man had apparently lived entirely for his beloved HPGs. Which was pitiful now that she thought about it.
“Moving back to our current situation,” she said out loud, “We have a conundrum of our own. The consensus of suggestions made since I first raised the matter is that we have a limited number of options to deal with the Clans. There is no real doubt that as things stand, the Successor States will not be able to prevent them from reaching Terra or that they will try to seize this world once they have the chance. The proposals made by members of this body all fall into one of four options: firstly, surrender Terra…”
There was a rumble of discontent from around the room.
Wei raised her hand. “Even if it is to be rejected, we must consider all possibilities. Secondly, fight to defend Terra. Thirdly, indirectly assist the Successor States more than we currently are. Fourthly, directly confront the Clans before they advance significantly closer to Terra. Does anyone have any further suggestions that these do not cover?”
No one spoke up.
She nodded solemnly. “Precentor Martial, I understand that the ComGuards are preparing for the second and fourth options?”
“Yes, Primus.” He drew himself up. “I must stress that a decision to commit to either will need to be made soon, in order to concentrate our field armies for operations. We have assembled twelve divisions at enclaves between Terra and Vega, but moving them into position for either options will take time that is increasingly short.”
Tiger Lily spoke up: “How does that compare to the strength of the Clans?”
Focht didn’t dissemble. “Approximately equivalent to fifty of their Clusters - about half the frontline strength of all six Clans in the Inner Sphere. It would be necessary to fight them under favorable circumstances to have a good chance of success.”
“It seems to me that the ComGuards are insufficient unless we work with the Successor States,” declared Rachel Orchard. “Is that our only option?”
“No.” The Precentor Martial shook his head. “To some degree all of the Clans have divided their strength, and their custom of bidding means that they would reduce their forces to the minimum they believe necessary. Clever bidding to set the terms of the conflict will be a key part in preparing to face them.”
Tiger Lily stood. “Any fight on Terra would incur damage to the homeworld,” she announced. “And surrender is unthinkable. I favor any plan to halt the Clans short of Terra.”
Wei sat back and let the Precentors express their own opinions, letting Focht field the technical questions of what was and was not possible. She would prefer to fight here, personally, adding the defenses of Terra to their strength and possibly picking off one Clan at a time as they raced to arrive - but Tiger Lily was once again rallying considerable support within the First Circuit…
-
So Tukkayid is fallen, thus if proxy battle is fought it will be closer to Terra, unless Comstar decides upon full out war with invading Clans.
Also the exchange between Natasha and that damn whippersnapper :grin:
Are Jaime Wolf and Akira Brahe dead?
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So Tukkayid is fallen, thus if proxy battle is fought it will be closer to Terra, unless Comstar decides upon full out war with invading Clans.
Also the exchange between Natasha and that damn whippersnapper :grin:
Are Jaime Wolf and Akira Brahe dead?
Jaime must be dead or incapacitated, otherwise Mackenzie wouldn´t be in command.
Akira Brahe... that´s a different matter. Christian Kell pretty much inherited the Kell Hounds (well him and Caitlin, but he´s the one who´s on Luthien) after Morgan´s death. Akira Brahe may still be their field commander, but I can see Christian making a decision like this one instead of him.
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Jaime Wolf is dead. Akira Brahe has a head injury and isn't entirely sure what year it is right now. (He'll recover, but his mechwarrior career is over).
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Wow, you really cleared house on Luthien - Jaime and Morga, Takashi, Theodore and Tomoe...
Good writing as always and the severe absence of plot armor on the Spheroid side provides the high stakes necessary for it to fully work.
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And I note a certain silence on the fate of Christian... ;)
Aside from that: seriously awesome story! I'd offer you the same editing services I give to Cannonshop, but I'm not sure I could keep up with all of you!
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Great scene in the Black Chamber; Minoru may grow into a worthy Dragon but he started well.
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'if it is possible to find forces for such a raid'
FedCom is stalemating the Falcons and Cats, doubt the Combine has such forces for a 'raid' Alternate history isn't the same but at times 'rhymes'
Victor did mount a rescue mission for her brother and he was the First Davion (and Stiener) noble on Luthien...(seems like Rhyme is in the forecast :wink:) :smiley:
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And I note a certain silence on the fate of Christian... ;)
In Minoru's POV it is mentioned that Christian evacuated survivors of Genyosha with him, when he took the offered hegira.
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I must have read that as "Kell Hounds"... thanks for the catch! :)
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Opalescent Reflections
House of Cards
Chapter 7
Malcheema, Arcturus
Tamar March, Federated Commonwealth
25 May 3051
Victor wasn’t sure what he was being called to the RCT command post for. He hadn’t done anything wrong he could think of, and if one of his battalion had then he would have their guts for galoshes, because they should all be busy right now.
Arcturus was the original capital of the Lyran Commonwealth, although power had transferred to Tharkad centuries ago as it was far too close to the aggressive Draconis Combine. Defending it was a political necessity… but the military reality was that there was no real expectation of holding the world. It was just too exposed - too obviously in the Clans’ path. So while no one had announced it, the Tenth Lyran Guards and the Seventeenth Arcturan Guards RCTs were supposed to put up enough of a fight to look good - and then withdraw rather than risk serious losses.
In some ways that was harder than a fixed defense with no intention of withdrawing, and Victor had his battalion familiarizing themselves with the routes back to the concealed dropships when he was called in.
Climbing out of the jeep, he entered the headquarters building - pausing only to present his ID card to the guards. He no longer got double-takes from them when he did that, which was a great step forwards in his opinion. A painfully green looking leutnant was waiting for him and an elevator whisked him down into the darkened command center fifty meters below the surface.
Victor found two people waiting for him: Marshal Kelly Devers, the commander of the RCT and in title of his regiment; and the slightly more welcome Galen Cox, promoted to leutnant-colonel after Twycross. “Sir,” he said, saluting the marshal. A glance at Cox didn’t tell him what was going on.
“Kommandant,” the marshal greeted him. “You have a personal call.” She indicated one of the consoles.
What? He didn’t ask that out loud but he was sure his face gave the sentiment away. Then he saw the spinning ComStar emblem indicating that someone was not only making a realtime conversation across the stars, but had actually been waiting for him. The cost of that was absurd even for royalty. “From Tharkad?” Victor asked instead as he took the seat facing the console. Some crisis in the family was the only thing that he thought could justify this.
“No, a mutual acquaintance,” Cox told him. “The Coordinator wants to speak to you.”
For a dreadful instant Victor thought that Takashi Kurita knew about various private thoughts he’d had about the Coordinator’s granddaughter, but then he remembered that the man was dead. As unreal as it seemed, the new Coordinator was Omi’s brother. He touched the button to accept the call.
The face he saw was familiar from Puget Sound, if older by more than the months since then. Is this, he thought, how I will look when mom and dad are gone? Minoru tried to smile and fail. “Kommandant… no, Victor.”
“Minoru.”
“I know we have not had the time to become friends,” the bespectacled young man said quietly, “but I hope that we are not enemies. And there was mutual respect between our fathers.”
“Yes.” Victor nodded. “I… my condolences.”
“My grandfather died as he would have wanted. My parents… well, by all accounts we have, they were together.” Minoru shrugged slightly. “I am going to be shameless and beg a favor of you, Victor.” He hesitated, perhaps feeling as nervous about this as Victor did. “My sister is alive,” Minoru continued. “Or she was as of our last reports… on Luthien.”
“Yeah, I’d… heard she was there.”
“She leads the resistance,” the Coordinator said proudly. “Thousands are safe from the Sharks because of her. But they are - I am sorry to say - not stupid. The Sharks’ search for her is proving harder and harder to avoid.” He shook his head. “As much as it pains me to say this, she will never be taken alive. And besides her, the people she is hiding have irreplaceable skills. I need them alive - and for them I can do what I could not if was just my sister.”
Victor nodded. “You’re planning a rescue operation?”
Minoru returned the gesture. “We have obtained certain codes that should allow a jumpship to deliver a pair of dropships and loiter long enough to recharge its drive. The dropships’ return will be chancier, of course. My sister has been advised of the rendezvous.” He lowered his head. “However, her ability to make discreet contact with the HPG station has been severed. Unfortunately, as I said, the Diamond Sharks are not stupid.”
“You wouldn’t be talking about a favor if everything was fine. What do you need?”
“The infantry who will be landing - including several DEST teams who will remain to prepare for a more permanent return of Luthien to Combine control - are in position. Unfortunately, the Ryuken battalion needed to secure the landing site long enough for my sister’s people to embark has been stranded due to jumpship failure and will not arrive in time.” Minoru paused. “To meet the schedule, there are very few options who can be brought in to replace them - and all are already committed to important missions. We have perhaps overcommitted, for lack of alternatives.”
“Are you,” Victor asked, “Asking me to take my entire battalion into the Combine to raid Luthien.”
“I confess, I imagine many of your mechwarriors would have dreamed of attacking Luthien,” Minoru said with a weak smile. “We have a jumpship delivering supplies to Camlann, it is due to depart in two weeks. If a battalion of the AFFC - yours or anyone else’s - can be there then I can arrange their transport the rest of the way.”
“Aren’t there three Kungsarme regiments on Camlann?” asked Devers aggressively, leaning over Victor’s shoulder.
Minoru seemed unsurprised, eyes barely flickering away from Victor. “Yes. General Mansdottir has declined my request. As is his right.”
“And it’s my right to do the same,” Devers informed him.
The Coordinator tilted his head slightly. “I am not asking you, Marshal Devers. Nor am I asking my sister’s friend Victor to disobey orders. I am asking the heir designate of the Federated Commonwealth to make a strategic decision, in the spirit of the truce agreed between our fathers.”
Victor shook his head slightly, “You could have had this conversation with one or both of my parents. You’re asking me to do this behind their back. Why?”
“Your father would ask me a price I cannot pay,” Minoru said simply. “And your mother… perhaps I misjudge her, but I think she would ask your father.”
“You think I can be led around by the nose?” he asked a little sharply.
“No,” the Coordinator said, “But we are of a generation, so perhaps it will mean more to you than it would to your father when I offer what I can: peace between us, so long as I rule. There are many who would call that treason on my part.”
“A Kurita’s word?”
“My word.”
Devers stared at the Coordinator and then stepped back. Victor glanced briefly up at her and then back at Minoru. “I’m not going to decide this on the spur of the moment, Minoru. I don’t even know if it’s possible with where our jumpships are right now. I’ll send you a priority message as soon as I know.”
“Of course. Thank you.”
The screen went dead and Victor leant back in his chair, thoughts racing.
“You’re considering this?” Galen asked him. “What am I saying, of course you are.”
“Considering, yes,” he said slowly. “If Minoru’s serious, and I think it is, it means that the DCMS is stretched to the limit. They can’t even afford to bring one of the units still on our border, which suggests that that border is… brittle. That we could roll right over units without them being able to respond strategically. If he did contact my parents, it’d be hell to keep the court from finding out and there would be a lot of pressure to do just that.”
“If the Combine collapses, then our border with the Clans doubles. Even if they’re just a punchbag for the Diamond Sharks, that’s better than nothing.” He exhaled slowly. “And it sounds as if he really needs to get those people off Luthien.”
“And you like her.”
Victor ignored the inhalation from Devers. “Thanks Galen. Make it sound like I’m being led around by my…” He refrained from using an obscenity in front of the Marshal. “Yeah, I like her. But that isn’t enough to do this.”
“As your commanding officer, I can forbid this,” warned Devers.
“Do you?” He locked eyes with her.
There was evident temptation in her eyes but in the end she looked away and Victor nodded. “Thank you, Marshal.”
“Don’t thank me yet. If you go ahead with this, my ass is in a sling.”
Victor leant forwards. “I need to send some priority messages,” he decided. “And find out if this is even possible, of course. If I can’t get to Camlann by the deadline then this is meaningless.”
“Who do you want to speak to?” asked Cox.
“Morgan for one - pulling a battalion off Arcturus without telling him could screw up deployments he’s planning for,” Victor decided. “Accrington is a lot less likely to leak this to the court than Tharkad or New Avalon.” His cousin’s command post was on a theater command world in the Skye March, which would likely be the next battlefield with the Clans. And then Christian Kell.”
“You want the Kell Hounds to go rather than leading the operation?”
Victor made a face. “I don’t plan on sending someone to do something I wouldn’t - although if Morgan orders it, I guess I’ll have to,” he told the older man. “But Christian’s been to Luthien, he’d have some idea of what the chances of this working are.”
Devers shook her head. “I recommend against this, your highness.” Her use of his title not his rank was pointed. “But I will have my staff check the jumpships for you.”
CSJS Streaking Mist, Caldrea
Clan Smoke Jaguar Occupation Zone
2 June 3051
Wei Rong had been aboard warships before and she had found them to be dropships writ large and little more. Noise and motion, even if it might be at the extremes of one’s senses, enough to show her why the crews counted them as living things - and might be right, in a way. Functions driving form.
The battlecruiser Streaking Mist was all this and more. A thousand light years from their homes, Clan Smoke Jaguar had brought their culture with them. Snarling iconography on the walls, trophies in niches set aside for them, verses of their epic Remembrance poem…
And the scent of fear from the crew, even those who wore warrior uniforms, when faced by officers of rank.
There was a savagery here that was barely leashed and it was a relief to enter the council chamber that occupied what had probably been a cargo bay at one point. The colors of more than a dozen other Clans was a break from the oppressively smokey grays and blacks. And these men and women rarely feared the Smoke Jaguars.
IlKhan Leo Showers rose to greet Wei, though the “Primus,” was more snarl than greeting. He offered her his hand and while Wei had been reared to believe bows were more appropriate, she accepted it. His callused fingers closed around her immaculately manicured digits and clenched down, hard.
It wasn’t entirely unexpected, not even the first time that it had been done to her. And oddly, it heartened Wei. Only the insecure really needed to show off their strength to a small and harmless looking woman.
It still hurt though, so after a moment, she ground her thumb against the bones of the back of his hand. Showers endured for a moment, as if to make the point that he was doing so of his will and not due to the pain, and then loosened his grip. “IlKhan,” she returned his greeting.
“I have looked forward to seeing you in person,” Showers declared in a predatory growl. “I am gratified that you accepted our invitation to meet the Grand Council.”
“I believe it is time to do so.” The fall of Orestes had been confirmed a week before her arrival. A rear guard of the Kungsarme had retreated offworld to Camlann, just two light years closer to Terra. Clan Wolf’s victory had cost the Free Rasalhague Republic its last territory. Now all that survived was a small army, battered badly, and a government-in-exile surviving on off-world investments and the charity of others.
One of the Khans wearing green - the younger, which made him Timur Malthus - approached. “I had thought that your general would continue to handle most of your dealings with the Clans. He is, after all, a warrior.”
“Anyone who thinks that politics is not a war has not been paying attention,” Wei told him in a reasonable tone.
That got a chuckle from the elder of the two Jade Falcon khans. “That is true, Primus.” He indicated a seat off to the side. “We have assigned a place to you, as we would to any other Free Guild’s leader attending the Grand Council.”
Wei was unsure if that was an intentional trap or just overconfidence. Either way, it was a good point to make her stand on. Hopefully it would go well, because there was at least some risk that she’d be killed by one of the Khans. If she did come to harm then the Clans would face an interdiction, but that wouldn’t be much comfort if she was dead.
“That will not be necessary,” she told the Khan firmly. Elias Crichell, she thought he was called. “ComStar is not one of your Free Guilds so I will attend only so long as our business with the Grand Council is being dealt with.”
Ulric Kerensky chuckled slightly. “ComStar was granted the protections of a Free Guild, Primus.”
“Protections?” she asked, as if she was unaware. “Quite unnecessary, thank you. Almost insulting, in fact.”
“The status has protected your enclaves from any repeat of Susquehanna,” Kerensky pointed out.
Wei shook her head. “Protection is offered to the weak, Khan Kerensky. The strong have allies, not protectors. If our enclaves are under threat then we will defend them with our own strength.”
“Does that include Terra. quiaff?” The speaker was a woman, wearing gray and green. Her uniform had a snake motif, but Wei knew there were three different Clans with snakes as their totem so she wasn’t sure which this Khan led.
“Of course,” Wei replied. “We have been preparing to defend the motherworld since it was entrusted to us, over two hundred years ago. We have been its protectors since Aleksandr Kerensky gave up that role.”
Leo Showers leant forward. “But now we have returned,” he said in a weighty tone. “The SLDF’s heirs are here to take up this sacred charge. There is no further need for a… religious sect.”
Wei hid her fear behind a broad smile. “IlKhan, it sounds as if you don’t believe that ComStar is equal to the challenge.”
There was laughter from more than one Khan, but not from Showers. “You are not,” he said simply. “You are not warriors, you hide behind your control of communications.”
She hid her hands in her sleeves so that he didn’t see them trembling. “I think we all know that should any of the Clans come within a reasonable range of Terra you would try to seize control of it. That whole… ilClan business?” Wei looked around the room. “Do you really think that we have been sitting here assuming that we could interdict you and you would just…” She shrugged. “Go away? That would be ridiculous.”
“Ah yes, you and your ComGuards,” Timur Malthus sneered. “Untested warriors in obsolete wargear.”
“I believe Khan Weaver tested them on Susquehanna,” she reminded the council. “I do not recall that she enjoyed the encounter.”
The khan in question flushed. Wei wasn’t sure if she was the senior Khan now or if the new Khan had been promoted over her. Exactly how that worked was obscure. “I defeated your ComGuards,” Weaver replied truculently.
Wei sighed, although that led neatly into her plan. “Very well, since you doubt our fitness to defend Terra let us put that to the test.”
“What are you suggesting?” Ulric Kerensky looked curious.
“Your clan has taken Orestes,” she told him. “The next world after that is Camlann - we will fight one of your trials there. If you lose, you must accept that Terra is ours to protect.”
“In that case,” Elias Crichell proposed, “If you lose then you must yield Terra to us.”
Wei wondered how far she could flee if this went wrong. If she got to the dropship… no, the battlecruiser would destroy it. Well, if she got out of the system, maybe she could get a place on an Interstellar Expeditions mission into the deep periphery? “That raises the stakes somewhat,” she said slowly, as if considering the idea. “If you want me to give up the mother world then I must ask for something of similar value.”
“You would be recognised as Terra’s protectors, isn’t that enough?” asked the new Smoke Jaguar Khan. She didn’t recall his name - something Furry?
“We already have that status,” she corrected him. “Alright, if we win you have to agree to cease your invasion. We can draw a line through Camlann and for a hundred years, the Clans will not cross that line. I would ask for forever, but none of us will live that long.”
The Diamond Shark khan spoke for the first time. “None of us will live for a century either. You ask more than we can promise, Primus. However, I think it would be reasonable to offer you a year’s guarantee.”
“The Inner Sphere is already bringing considerable forces to bear,” warned an aged Khan in black. He had the short stature of one of their aerospace warriors. “Do you have any idea how much that year would help them?”
“I have a very good idea how much we could ship across a thousand light years in that time,” Sennet replied evenly. “I would imagine it is much the same. And if we lose, and must accept ComStar as Terra’s guardians, then the race to take control of it is moot - Operation Revival will have failed and we will need time to reconsider our options.”
“And who would represent the Clans,” enquired Karl Bourjon. “If we win, then the winner could claim to be ilKhan.”
Showers stiffened but rather than reply directly, he continued to stare at Wei. “You will surrender Terra when your forces are defeated?”
She nodded. “If you can win on Camlann, then you need only send forces to Terra and we will withdraw our presence. You understand that if we simply depart before you arrived, one of the Successor Lords would take control.”
The ilKhan considered that but appeared to find it acceptable. “If you do win you will have your year.”
Now Wei shook her head. “It is one of you who proposed a year. I do not accept that. A single year is nothing. If you will not offer a century, then let it be twenty-five years - a full generation.” Surely by that point she would be able to retire and the Clans would be someone else’s problem.
“For you that might be a generation,” Ulric Kerensky allowed, “But for us it is far longer. It is unlikely that most of us will be Khans by that point. I propose a five year cessation of hostilities.”
Five years would allow the armament programmes that the First Circuit had decided on to make a great deal of progress. Wei thought it might be acceptable, but at the same time it was about as long as she had been Primus. It was likely that if any one was elected to replace her, they’d be a warmonger - someone basing their claim on willingness to fight the Clans. “Let us compromise,” she offered. “Fifteen years.”
“That is far too long,” Showers protested.
“Then we must simply win, quiaff?” offered Furry, or whatever his name was.
“Indeed,” agreed Kerensky. “The compromise is acceptable to me,” he added, looking around the chamber.
“If you lose,” Sarah Weaver said pointedly, “Then ComStar’s enclave on Camlann is also forfeit.”
There were over a million people living in that enclave, on the edges of the mostly frozen northern continent. But Wei could hardly refuse now. She was already gambling with billions. “Very well.”
Showers gazed around the room and then shook his head. “I believe the consensus of the Council is to accept these terms. What forces will defend your claim, Primus?”
Wei met his gaze. “The ComGuards will deploy both of our two field armies - each is approximately equivalent to an SLDF Corps. I request a month’s grace to fully deploy them to Camlann.”
There was a dead silence in the room. A SLDF Corps was a fairly vague term, since they’d varied quite a bit in size, but they were huge. The idea of a single Corps being deployed to a single world had been unthinkable since the fall of the Star League and the departure of the SLDF. And Wei was committing two of them?!
“In addition,” she added, “The Kungsarme survivors have retreated to Camlann. As they have already sworn to defend the world, we will contract them to fight as part of our bid. That brings us to around seventy-nine brigades in strength.”
“Are you stripping Terra’s defenses?” accused one of the Khans.
Wei looked at the man. “No, I said field armies. As opposed to the orbital defenses, the garrisons… our warship fleet, that sort of thing. By intention, Terra is intended to be able to defend itself even if the field armies are deployed elsewhere.”
“I believe,” Leo Showers said slowly, “That we can make use of that month to bring together forces from all the Invading Clans, so let us agree that we shall begin our invasion of Camlann thirty-one days from now, on the third of July.”
Wei bowed slightly. “I will leave it to the Precentor Martial to negotiate the exact battlefields and other details.”
-
Yamashiro, New Samarkand
Galedon District, Draconis Combine
5 June 3051
Minoru Kurita sat on his throne and facing him was Hanse Davion. The young man wondered if he should have the throne room purified somehow. It would give the courtiers something to do other than try to micromanage his schedule.
The First Prince was only there as a hologram, fortunately, and clever camera work made it seem as if he sat next to his wife at a single desk when in fact they were in two different rooms over five hundred light years apart - Melissa on Tharkad and Hanse on New Avalon.
To Minoru’s right, General Christian Mansdottir appeared in the air, sat behind a desk of his own. And finally, facing Mansdottir, the Primus of ComStar stood. She looked tired, he thought.
“No Romano Liao and Thomas Marik?” asked Hanse Davion drily. “I’m sure she will assume we are plotting against her.”
Wei smiled shot him a thin smile. “I am only addressing the rulers of states currently fighting the Clans. Thank you for making time for me.”
Minoru glanced across the room at the Federated Commonwealth’s power couple. “You gave us some warning of the Clans, Primus. A little time is not too much to ask.”
“Since we have the opportunity though.” Melissa Steiner-Davion turned a glare on Minoru that was quite out of line with her usual persona. For the most part, the Archon was seen as the more personable of the pair. “Coordinator, you have encouraged my son to act recklessly, something he doesn’t usually need help with. If he, or Kai Allard-Liao, comes to harm… then the voices in my court who believe we should take advantage of your nation’s current situation will find a more welcome ear than they would otherwise.”
“As my sister is on the line, I am doing everything I can to make the operation a success.”
“It would be possible for your sister to be saved at the cost of my son.” The Archon’s eyes were very cold. “I would not consider that a success. I will not undercut him by countermanding the operation… but this is on you.”
Minoru bowed his head slightly “I feel similarly. The Succession Wars are over, whatever anyone wants. That requires a new relationship between House Kurita and the other Great Houses. I hope that your son - and Duchess Liao’s son - will help me lay a foundation for that.”
Melissa’s husband chuckled, a little harshly. “That will be up to your generation, as it should be.”
“I am sure you can discuss this in your own time,” Mansdottir observed. “Primus, why do you wish to address us all?”
Wei Rong folded her hands. “In light of the threat posed to ComStar, I have presented a challenge to the Clans. In the event they triumph, it should push back their ninth wave of attacks by about a month and leave them with significantly fewer forces.” She looked over at Mansdottir. “With the exception of the attack on Camlann, that is.”
“Setting aside why Camlann is the exception,” Hanse Davion probed, “What will happen if they do not triumph.”
“In that case, your highness, the Clans have agreed to break off their current invasion and accept a truce for fifteen years. I cannot insist that you accept such a truce, but if you wish to break it then you may wish to do so under advantageous terms… once you have made use of some time to re-arm and redeploy.” The Primus thinned her smile.
“Could you not have offered that before Orestes fell?” the General demanded harshly. “Wasn’t what happened to Reykjavik enough reason for you to intervene?”
Wei Rong gave him a thoughtful look. “If we were in position to have done this then… well, we will never know.” She shook her head. “In any event, the challenge is Camlann. Coordinator, I understand that you have requested that General Mansdottir spearhead the defense. While the Kungsarme can certainly participate if they so wish, I am asking you to accept the large scale deployment of the ComGuards as well or instead.”
“I think I would have a mutiny if I tried to lead my soldiers further from home,” Mansdottir mused and looked at Minoru. “Coordinator?”
“I have already had to ask for aid from the Federated Commonwealth,” he replied. “But I would like a little more detail. What do you mean by large scale deployment?”
“Precentor-Martial Anastasius Focht will command the First and Second Field Armies - that is the equivalent of twelve of the old SLDF divisions… assuming that each of our Level IV brigades is roughly equivalent to a DCMS combat brigade, the Clans should require between fifty and seventy of their Clusters to match the force.”
“That…” Minoru frowned. “At least half the forces they’ve committed to the entire invasion?”
Hanse Davion chuckled again. “And I assume you chose Camlann simply because it was the next world in their line of advance.”
“I am sure you would have preferred that they defend a Federated Commonwealth world,” the Primus admitted. “But if nothing else, I think it might give you a better chance on the worlds you’re currently fighting for.”
Over the Midland Sea, Camlann
Benjamin District, Draconis Combine
3 July 3051
The sky above Camlann’s Middle Sea was afire, for the first time since the Second Succession War. There hadn’t been anything of strategic value around the sea since House Kurita took the world from the Lyrans, nuclear fire had been used by both sides to try to burn out the chemical and biological contamination caused in fighting for what had been a rich industrial region of a provincial capital. And each other's troops, of course.
Tyra Miraborg knew that the region below wasn’t suited for long term habitation. The graves of millions lay untended, only a tiny handful of salvagers having inhabited the shores, making a living by stripping material from shattered cities to be decontaminated and recycled or repurposed. Precentor Martial Focht and General Mansdottir had agreed that this was a fitting battlefield to face the Clans on.
Let them see the devastation of war first hand, fighting for the ruins. Neither side would be here long enough for the remaining contaminations to matter - and at least on Tyra’s part, she was flying far above it.
“Here they come,” she warned, seeing the fiery trails of dropships and aerospace fighters entering the atmosphere. “Valkyrie squadron, follow me.”
Her Shilone responded eagerly as Tyra pulled the controls back and pushed the throttle fully open. The other five aerospace fighters followed - two more Shilone, a Corsair and then a pair of Hammerheads that had only joined the Flying Drakons a week ago. Fallen off a ComStar dropship, Tyra assumed. The ancient SLDF design resembled the Octaves she’d seen over Rasalhague - or rather, she now knew, the Sabutai. She’d drilled Valkyrie Squadron intensively on recognising the differences - there was no room for friendly fire when there might never be any more replacement pilots or equipment.
As multiple gravities pushed her back into the acceleration couch, Tyra judged the trajectory of one of the larger trails of fire. That was almost certainly a dropship, and that made it the goal here. Without ground forces, the Clans could not take ground, and catching them before their sensors had recovered from the reentry heat was the best chance the Kungsarme had of leveling the odds.
Smaller heat signatures pointed out the escort covering the dropship though. It wasn’t as if the Clans were stupid, damn them.
“Fighters,” Valkyrie Three warned unnecessarily.
“I see them, Three.” Tyra calculated her timing. The formation was looser than it could be, but probably not enough that they could just blow through. On the other hand, only an utter moron would make their re-entry with their cockpit facing down, so the pilots would be blind to the arrival of her squadron and the dozens of others in the sky as they came up beneath the invasion force. Know they were coming, yes. See them, no.
Her teeth drew back as the twenty-meter tall stalking cat of Clan Smoke Jaguar painted on the side of the dropship became visible in the distance. There had been very little discussion of which cities the Kungsarme would be deployed to defend. Once it was known that Fayettevil and Bentonvil had been chosen by the Clan who burned the capital, it would have invited mutiny not to sent Rasalhague’s last soldiers to those cities. Half a division of the ComGuards was backing them up, but for the most part this would be the Kungsarme’s show.
“I’m allocating targets,” Tyra declared, flagging the first six in what was probably a standard ten-strong star of Clan pilots. “Hit yours with everything you have and then go for the dropship. This might be our only chance.”
There was a chorus of acknowledgement, but Tyra’s gaze was narrowing in on the Sabutai she’d marked as target number one. It came closer and closer, the sheath of fire beginning to fade as her weapons lock went gold.
She had a shot and he must have known that someone had a shot. In the last instant, right as she pulled the trigger, the clan pilot tried desperately to evade. He didn’t quite manage, and Tyra’s fighter - like most of the Drakons - was packing external rocket pods.
Forty rockets, along with twenty LRMs smashed into the ventral surface of the fighter and then Tyra twitched her controls to keep it in her crosshairs before firing her large laser. ComStar had replaced the trusty Diverse Optics Ten with something they claimed had almost thirty percent greater range. Tyra hadn’t had much time to test that and she was close enough it shouldn’t matter… but she felt the higher than expected heat surge as the laser fired.
The pulse of coherent light tore through tattered armor and one wing came away from the Sabutai and it fell into a spiral downwards.
All Tyra’s instincts told her to finish the invader off, but the dropship was the real mission - packed with warriors who would pose a deadly threat to her comrades below. Yanking on the yoke, she brought the Shilone around towards the target.
Aware that they were under attack, the dropship's gunners were responding now. Missiles spat from its sides in worrying quantities and lasers fired back at Valkyrie Squadron. One of the Hammerheads, with its massive autocannon, blew apart as the ammunition exploded. Tyra’s own wings were getting flayed as she twisted, trying to keep the bulk of the dropship in her sights.
The dropship - the warbook called it a Lion-class - was taking damage, but it was a hundred times the size of an aerospace fighter and the thick plating was still holding up.
One of the Shilone had held back its rockets - against orders, but who cared now. Valkyrie Four closed in to suicidal range and fired the full packs into one of the hatches. The door panel broke away, revealing the mechanisms that would have opened it, but they weren’t through to the interior yet.
A moment’s warning was all that Tyra had as one of the surviving escorts managed to get around and singled her out. Autocannon fire cracked plates all along one wing as she angled away, but the T-bone shape of a Visigoth closed in inexorably and no matter how the young kapten tried to shake it, the Clan pilot had a better turning circle than she had - and the lasers and short range missiles were already ripping into her fuselage.
In desperate improvisation, Tyra slammed the reactor shutdown and yanked the yoke back.
Without power, the Shilone stalled almost immediately and with the nose up she got the unsettling experience of feeling the fighter fall backwards towards Camlann.
The Visigoth overflew her, rolling aside to stay clear of her weapons unfortunately.
Up above, Tyra saw the Lion turning, its massive thrusters belching fire. Then a shadow slashed across it and for a single crystalline moment she saw Valkyrie Four’s Corsair, flames steaming from even the cockpit, arrowing in like a missile.
Then the Corsair was gone and a quarter of the Lion was on fire, what might have been the fighter buried in the side. It was impossible to say for sure.
Working what remained of her control surfaces, Tyra fought to get the Shilone into something resembling a stable dive. In glimpses out of the corner of her eyes she saw escape pods and elementals falling away from the stricken Lion. It seemed the occupants had no faith in its ability to make a safe landing.
A moment later, two ‘mechs fell past her - a skull-faced humanoid machine and a hunched over bird-like machine. Both much larger than her Shilone and both falling faster. If they didn’t have jump jets they were dead - in fact, if they were still over the water they were dead too. A quick glance down told Tyra that they had reached the coast so maybe not the latter, although it would be touch and go.
Finally she got the nose down and was out of her tumble. She’d lost a lot of altitude, but that was the nice thing about fusion thrusters - they could make a brick fly if they had to. She slapped the restart control and the fusion turbine roared to life once more, the Shilone beginning to accelerate upwards.
She’d lost contact with her squadron. At least two were dead and she should commend Valkyrie Four… what was the woman’s name? Tyra could bring to mind a fleeting impression of green eyes and black hair, but nothing more. One of the pilots from the Third Drakons’ aerowing, she thought. Potter? Proctor?
Then she saw a flicker of movement and threw her Shilone onto its side as the Visigoth - or one of its sisters - came down at her out of the sun.
The frantic maneuver was enough to get her clear of the Visigoth’s nose as its lasers fired, her computer marking dispassionately how close it had come to ripping her apart. And then the salvo of SRMs adjusted course in mid-flight and tracked around to chase her.
Explosions behind Tyra shook the entire aircraft and eloquently explained why the turbine’s shriek followed. Power left the controls.
There was no time to think further. Tyra’s gloved hands flashed from the yoke to the handgrips between her legs and she yanked them savagely.
The canopy erupted away and after just barely long enough for the armorglass to be clear, her ejection seat rocketed away.
Out in the cold air, everything was suddenly quiet and Tyra watched the Shilone fall away. The drogue for her parachute uncoiled, pulling the seat upright before the main parachute opened. She could see the Visigoth looping around and she tensed, wondering if he was one of the sick bastards who believed an ejected pilot was unfinished business.
However, the nose didn’t come near her - the pilot rolling around to visibly look up at her through the canopy. His hand flashed up in salute and Tyra felt her anger boil. How dare he treat this like some sort of game!
Then everything was fire as a pair of Drakon pilots did to the Visigoth what he had done to her - diving out of the sun and hammering the Smoke Jaguar with their full firepower.
Tyra might have taken some satisfaction in seeing one of the Visigoth’s wings come apart if a section almost fifty centimeters across hadn’t been flying right at her. The section of armor was tumbling almost casually and if it hit her edge on, she’d lose her parachute or just be cut in half.
Almost out of horizontal force, the wing plate smacked flat against Tyra’s helmet and everything went black for her.
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Ouch ... that smarts. Lucky if the head is still attached to rest of Tyra ...
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Damn. She just can't catch a break.
Wonder if that was a Wolf DropShip, and, if she lived, if she's going to run into a certain Wolfhound pilot on the ground...
Never mind, Smoked Jaguar DropShip.
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It's interesting how you're bringing the threads back together. It's not the same, but the parallels are noticable.
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Getting killed that way is about as improbable as killing the clanner capo de capo tutti, sure... :rolleyes:
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That must have been enough force to goose her.
A painfully green looking leutnant
What a difference a few months of combat service does.
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Ouch ... that smarts. Lucky if the head is still attached to rest of Tyra ...
It smacked flat against her rather than hit edge on. So.... hopefully?
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Poor Rasalhague. I wonder if there will be enough of the Kungsarme left to fill out a battalion after Camlann. They really give it their all.
The question for me is: will Ace be part of the fighting on Camlann or will we see him clashing with Victor on Luthien? No being part of a (likely?) defeat in the trial against the ComGuard may give him a better shot at being a Khan, when the time comes.
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Ace Enders will probably be at Luthien since he is still technically in charge of the gutted Alpha Galaxy and he is the Luthien military occupation garrison CO. A story of Ace Enders governing Luthien could probably be a chapter or two long. From his POV, to his troops to the locals of Luthien and the remaining ISF AND O5P personnel.
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Hmm... when Victor´s unit goes to Luthien, will we see a fight between Ace and Kai?
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Battle of Camlann
Canon lore:
Camlann was colonised during the Age of War after the formation of the Lyran Commonwealth. By the time of the Star League it was a secondary provincial centre, giving its name to Camlann Shire, one of the three major divisions of the Tamar Pact. It lost this status during the Second Succession War when the Orestes salient divided it from Tamar - Camlann and nearby worlds were integrated into Kannon Shire (part of the Federation of Skye). The Draconis Combine took Camlann at some point in the Third Succession War.
Non-Canon Lore:
Camlann is somewhat colder than Terra but the majority of its continents are located in equatorial regions that are comfortable temperatures for colonisation. The original settlement was around the Midland Sea, separating Avalon and Camelot - two of the three largest continents. Under the Star League, the cities around the Midland Sea were prosperous and heavily industrialized. The other edges of Avalon and Camelot, as well as the smaller continents of Arthur, Morgause and Morgan, were more sparsely populated with light industry supporting agrarian settlements. The remaining continent, Dulac, was almost entirely covered by the arctic ice cap and the southern tip of the continent was mostly treated as a nature reserve.
The Succession Wars were not kind to Camlann. Long before the planet fell into the hands of the Combine, the Midland Sea region was a blasted wreck of itself after prior invasion attempts and raids led to exchanges of nuclear, chemical and biological weapons that the region has yet to recover from. The majority of the remaining population fled east or west into the rural regions that could support them, mostly. Economic turmoil and conflicts between the migrating refugees and the farmers did no favors to the planetary government. ComStar, when rebuilding the HPG network, had elected to place their primary HPG transmitters on the coast of Dulac, which became a centre for refugees and eventually a sizeable (if cold and isolated) peaceful enclave.
The Battle of Camlann, as negotiated between Precentor Martial Anastasius Focht and ilKhan Leo Showers, elected to avoid the inhabited regions and fight over fourteen of the ruined cities around the Midland Sea. The fourteen cities were divided into pairs, with each clan targeting a single pair. Agreement was reached that if the Clans could secure eight cities then they would be judged the winners. If the ComGuards could retain control over eight cities then they would be the winners. If each held seven, then the two leaders would convene and negotiate a tiebreaker challenge. (There is no official agreement as to what that might be - rumors that the IlKhan offered personal combat against the Precentor Martial are as unverified as the claim that the Primus would mud-wrestle one of the Khans).
Eight of the target cities were located in eastern Avalon:
Clan Smoke Jaguar bid an ambitious five clusters to secure Bentonvil and Fayettevil, near the northern edge of the Midland Sea. This may have been partially motivated by the fact that the Kungsarme made up the bulk of the defense, with seven brigades (some significantly understrength after the defeat on Orestes), supported by three Level-IV brigades of the ComGuards.
Clan Wolf bid conservatively, electing to commit twelve Clusters chosen from across five galaxies to take Colliervil and Huntsvil. Given the large force bid, it was agreed by the Grand Council that Clan Wolf would be allowed to land only on 7 July, four days after the bulk of the Clans. Three clusters were sent from Alpha, Gamma and Delta frontline galaxies, with saKhan Radick bringing two clusters from Beta Galaxy and the recently formed Thirteenth Wolf Guards being the only representatives of Epsilon Galaxy.
Clan Nova Cat bid six Clusters (two from each of their Alpha, Sigma and Delta galaxies) to take the Constantin peninsula, the eastern most part of Avalon, which extends to within visual range of Camelot. The cities of Pittsburk and Harrisburk were their targets.
Clan Steel Viper, who had no previous experience fighting the Inner Sphere and whose forces had only just arrived from the homeworlds. Due to supply limits, they bid the all five clusters of their Gamma Galaxy, alongside the Triasch Keshik - the Khan's cluster-sized command unit in order to take Gettysburk and Mechanicsburk, both located on the southern coast.
The remaining six target cities were located in western Camelot:
Clan Jade Falcon elected to take one of the more problematic target areas: the city of Sanhuan is located on an island, with a strait separating it from Sancisco, which would be their other objective. Expecting that the ComGuards forces would be forced to fight as isolated units, the Jade Falcons elected to commit seven Clusters chosen from Vau and Gamma Galaxies.
Clan Diamond Shark joined Clan Wolf and dropped out of bidding early, with Khan Sennet feeling it would require all of Gamma, Kappa Spina and Omega Galaxy to secure Sandiego and Santababa, even though the rolling hills were considered ideal mech warfare territory. The eleven Cluster strong force was required to land only on 7 July, along with the Wolves, to offset their numbers.
Clan Ghost Bear were only barely approved to land on 3 July along with most of the Clans, having chosen to bid eight Clusters to take Shippensburk and Chambersburk on the south coast. The mountainous terrain was judged to be more challenging than most of the targets, so Alpha and Delta Galaxies were ultimately allowed to begin without penalty in their efforts.
Excluding the detachment supporting the Kungsarme, the Precentor Martial divided the remaining sixty-nine Level IV (brigades) fairly evenly, with two Level V 'divisions' (11 or 12 brigades) assigned to each of the six pairs being defended. As it was generally uncertain which cities would be targeted first (or if some Clans might attack both targets at once), the local commanders usually assigned a divisional HQ to each city and anticipated shifting forces to focus on defending one city if that proved necessary. This meant that the defenders of each city usually started with 350-400 'mechs backed by infantry and armor forces at least twice as numerous.
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Mechanicsburk
I see that you have read all the classics.
There wouldn´t happen to be a Precentor Wulfenbach commanding the defenders there?
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And what about the arty and aero forces of C* ?
Focht is know has the Hammer, so I believe these are going to be strong.
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Arty and Aero are involved, but in numbers they're much less than mechs, much less tanks or infantry.
I see that you have read all the classics.
There wouldn´t happen to be a Precentor Wulfenbach commanding the defenders there?
I'm familiar, but in this case it's named for Mechanicsburg, a town in Pennsylvania.
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Clan Smoke Jaguar bid an ambitious five clusters to secure Bentonvil and Fayettevil, near the northern edge of the Midland Sea. This may have been partially motivated by the fact that the Kungsarme made up the bulk of the defense, with seven brigades (some significantly understrength after the defeat on Orestes), supported by three Level-IV brigades of the ComGuards.....Excluding the detachment supporting the Kungsarme, the Precentor Martial divided the remaining sixty-nine Level IV (brigades) fairly evenly, with two Level V 'divisions' (11 or 12 brigades) assigned to each of the six pairs being defended....
Hey drakensis, are you using a custom definition for brigade here? A normal SLDF brigade is composed of three regiments of units, but a Comstar Level IV is only 6x6x6 = 216 combat units, or two regiments, and was traditionally referred to as a "Division" in Comguards parlance, with a Level V referred to as an Army.
https://www.sarna.net/wiki/ComStar_military_structure
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ComStar using division for something that isn't even as large as most peoples brigade doesn't make sense to me. So for this story, a Level IV unit is a brigade (same 216 Level I units, but a more sensible term), a Level V unit is what's referred to as a division (rather than calling a unit that matches closely the size for a SLDF division an army), and a Level VI unit exists, representing six Level V units - this would be an army (approximately the same as a SLDF Corps, but that's a bit more forgivable, I think).
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It saddens me greatly that there will be no mud wrestling match with Primus. I reckon that W. Rong would advise Focht to limit the casualties if victory is certain, so if eight cities are secured by the time battles with Sharks and Wolves are underway, survivors of the previous battles will not be fed into meat grinder.
There wouldn´t happen to be a Precentor Wulfenbach commanding the defenders there?
A Heterodyne would be more likely.
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ComStar using division for something that isn't even as large as most peoples brigade doesn't make sense to me. So for this story, a Level IV unit is a brigade (same 216 Level I units, but a more sensible term), a Level V unit is what's referred to as a division (rather than calling a unit that matches closely the size for a SLDF division an army), and a Level VI unit exists, representing six Level V units - this would be an army (approximately the same as a SLDF Corps, but that's a bit more forgivable, I think).
Gotcha, makes sense! Agreed - a Level IV, given the mixture of units, really is not a Division-it's more akin to a light brigade or even a Light Combat Team from the Dark Age. A Level V would be 12 regiment-sized units, and essentially a SLDF division in size but more like a reinforced FedSuns RCT due to the large number of armor and infantry units.
It does show how far things haven fallen since the SLDF as well. Back in it's heyday, a SLDF Royal Battlemech Division could have likely wiped the floor with a Clan Galaxy in the open field easily and held off two or more when entrenched in defensive positions.
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It smacked flat against her rather than hit edge on. So.... hopefully?
Mass multiplied by initial acceleration gives you the force, of which some of which will be transferred to her head/headgear/space suit. Which may or may not be significantly fatal by the vector of the wing piece resp. the angle at which it hits Tyra: from glancing blow up to direct hit. And of course as you correctly say if it is an edge hit or not - big difference also there.
My concern is the relatively high mass of the wing piece as it has received a quite high initial acceleration from the aero fighter it came from exploding.
Example as a caution: lots of accounts from the time of the 100-Year-War up to the American Civil Wars of cheeky buggers losing their foot as they intended to stop an almost spent but still rolling cannon ball by playing football with it. Or even grislier accounts of wounded immobile soldiers being hit by such. Those cannon balls were fired from muzzle loading cannon in what was then known as the 4-pounder up to the 18-pounder (in American Civil War parlance that type of cannon were called "Napoleons" I believe)
And in space nothing slows debris down once it has been accelerated. OK eventually orbital mechanics but the distance involved in our case is effectively too short to matter.
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The combat took place in atmosphere so would be slowed by air friction but, as said, the distances are too short for this to matter.
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Opalescent Reflections
House of Cards
Chapter 8
Bentonvil, Camlann
Benjamin District, Draconis Combine
6 July 3051
Sarah Weaver heard her targeting lock settle onto the Kungsarme Ostsol she was fighting and triggered both her missile launchers. The missiles cut across the intervening space, arcing slightly to track the heavy cavalry battlemech as it tried to avoid her fury.
The mechwarrior wasn’t good enough to do that and about two-thirds of the missiles pulverized armor across the smaller ‘mech’s chest, some of them detonating inside. Coolant began to seep from the penetrations, almost like blood, but the ‘mech didn’t drop - the missiles hadn’t been decisive.
The saKhan had held back her lasers to let the ‘mech cool, but this was her fourth opponent as Beta Galaxy pushed towards Fayettevil. She only had one full salvo of missiles left, and this was unlikely to be her last battle today. The Ostsol was no faster than her Timber Wolf and she chased after it, firing first one large laser and then the other, one eye on her heat gauge.
Her caution kept the temperature from climbing into the orange, but the light blue Ostsol refused to just die, twisting to take the hits on what little intact armor it had. The pilot might only be good at running away, but at that he was gifted - and he was getting close to the ruins of what had once been some kind of industrial complex. There was enough metal there to mask him from magscan, and slipping away from her in the tangle would be possible.
Sarah hissed in frustration and then fired one of the missile launchers, emptying the magazine on the right-side of her omnimech.
The stream of missiles ground away what remained of the Ostsol’s rear armor and it fell forwards, the gyro no longer in a state that the mechwarrior could keep it upright. Before it reached a forty-five degree angle, the pilot ejected, his seat hurled over the buildings and deeper into the complex. Sarah snapped one arm up to try to track it but then relaxed rather than firing. One mechwarrior was no justification for pushing her heat harder - she needed to cool off in case of…
Hammerblows smashed into the Timber Wolf, sending the ‘mech staggering as Sarah fought the gyro, trying to stay upright as a new enemy emerged from the ruins.
Three Hetzer wheeled assault guns emerged from cover as Sarah was forced to bend one knee fully to give her a point of stability. It was an ambush, she realized. The Ostsol had been trying to draw her into the field of fire for the vehicles, only to fail at the last minute.
The smoke from the bores of the crude, boxy vehicles’ heavy autocannon showed that they had fired and no doubt the loading mechanisms were replenishing the cannon to finish her off.
With a cry of anger, Sarah fired off her last missiles into the furthest away, not waiting for the targeting computer to get a lock, and forced the Timber Wolf into a ragged gallop towards the next nearest, trying to get out of the limited transverse of its gun.
She was successful, and the Hetzer struck by her missiles also missed, but the middle vehicle managed to track her and its heavy autocannon poured fire into one of the big missile launchers suspended above the Timber Wolf’s shoulder. If she’d had missiles still, they might have chainfired and gutted that side of the ‘mech, but there was an unexpected advantage to having expended all of them and Sarah was able to almost ignore the hit.
Her medium lasers slashed along the flank of the nearer Hetzer, ripping into the wheels and immobilizing it. For a brief instant, despite firing them all, her temperature dropped down to green - and Sarah zeroed in on the damage done by her LRMs to the further of the tanks, before triggering both large lasers.
The salvo sent a rush of heat through the ‘mech and its responsiveness fell as the myomers heated up and grew less efficient. But two laser hits was more than the assault gun’s forward armor could survive. The shots bit deep and two successive explosions tore through the hull, first from the stored autocannon rounds and then from the fuel tanks. The Hetzer and its crew disappeared in a fireball.
With another Hetzer disabled and unable to turn to bring the gun around, Sarah had only to worry about a single mobile tank. She opened the throttle, circling to stay ahead of the last Hetzer’s gun and waited until the temperature dropped. Then, one at a time she fired her medium lasers. The extended range weapons slashed across the rear of the Hetzer, then the pulse laser flayed open the rear.
Fearing another ambush, Sarah didn’t rest, instead moving back towards where she’d last seen her command star. “All Mistweavers, be wary of combat vehicles laying ambushes in the ruins.” She paused to spray fire from her machinegun at the fleeing crew of the disabled Hetzer, seeing two drop. “Do not advance without Elemental support.”
“My Khan,” Brandon Howell observed in a neutral tone. The Star Colonel of the Sixth Jaguar Dragoons had joined her command unit, having been cut off from most of his Cluster by the scattered drop of Alpha Galaxy. “The longer it takes to reach Fayettevill, the more chance that the ComGuards manage to find Khan Furey.”
“I am aware,” Sarah concurred as she came into view of Howell. “But your Ebon Jaguar is in barely any better condition than my ‘mech and much of the Mistweavers are in the same state, quiaff?”
“Aff,” Howell admitted.
In Sarah’s opinion, the way that the Kungsarme’s fighters had made a nonsense of their original landing plans wasn’t even the first debacle of the campaign. The Diamond Sharks and Wolves had bid very conservatively, committing three galaxies each, and this had penalized their deployments - they were required to hold back as other Clans landed, possibly winning before they landed on 7 July. That was tomorrow, Sarah realized. How quickly the time had passed, even though it had been torturously slow to endure.
Fearing the same penalty would be imposed on the Smoke Jaguars so that the other four Clans could own the victory and supplant him, Leo Showers had spoken to Kincaid Furey firmly and Sarah’s original bid had been slashed to only five Clusters. In particular, the aerospace forces had been cut and the result…
Well, half of Alpha Galaxy was scattered around the port city of Fayettevil and Khan Furey himself had landed inside the city, his Executioner admittedly wreaking havoc on the Kungsarme logistics by his own account until he had to abandon the damaged assault ‘mech and try to exfiltrate on foot.
“I will do everything I can to save the Khan,” Sarah assured Howell, less than sincerely. They would all be better off if the idiot died. “I would be fighting for Bentonvil now if I did not. But we need more time to gather what remains of your Dragoons and the other Alpha Galaxy clusters.”
Not to mention little things like repairing armor or reloading their munitions, she thought, looking at the sad state of her Timber Wolf. “We need to…”
“Khan Weaver!” She recognised Jack Bowen, who ought to be commanding her Keshik but was now back with the dropships after ejecting from his Mad Dog had left him with a broken leg. “I have an urgent report.”
“Make your report,” she snapped.
“Observation flights from our remaining aerospace fighters report two brigade sized formations moving out of Bentonvil towards the dropships,” Bowen informed her. “Tentative identification is 1st Kavalleri and 3rd Drakons and the expected time of arrival is before dawn tomorrow.”
Breath hissed out of Sarah as if she’d been punched in the chest. It felt much the same. Even mixing in the elements of Alpha Galaxy, she had barely three cluster’s worth of forces right now and many needed repairs before fighting a major battle. Normally she would be entirely confident to send one Cluster out to maul the Kavalleri and rely on the dropship guns to defend them from the Drakons, but now…
“Mistweaver Galaxy,” she commanded. “All units rally on Point Arcadia, we are withdrawing to the west. All dropships are to make a suborbital flight to Point Babylon.” The latter was the original staging area where Alpha Galaxy’s dropships should have landed, in easy reach from the former location, which had been Furey’s intended launching point for a push into Bentonvil. “The Kungsarme have generously left their defenses to engage us, we will let them follow us into the jungle and show them what a Smoke Jaguar does to an unwary hunter, quiaff?”
There was a succession of acknowledgements from her own Clusters and Brandon Howell’s remaining subordinates. The Jaguar Grenadiers, the unit closest to Point Arcadia, were remarkably quiet though.
“SaKhan Weaver.” The ilKhan’s voice cut in, using a private channel.
Sarah gritted her teeth. Leo Showers had deployed alongside the Grenadiers. “IlKhan Showers.”
“We have time to finish the push into Fayettevil and recover Khan Furey,” he observed clinically. “Reunited, we can shatter this new force, quiaff?”
“Neg,” Sarah contradicted him flatly. “The Mistweavers are on the brink of combat loss grouping. If we take the city we will be in no state to take on the units from Bentonvil. With armor repaired and ammunition restored, then we can hope to defeat them in the field and return to take the objectives.”
“Taking Fayettevil would make the Smoke Jaguars the first Clan to seize an objective,” he snapped.
“They would take it right back from us,” Sarah snarled back. “They would! And gut my galaxy the way Furey got his torn apart! You know it!”
“If that is the price to pay,” Showers began.
Sarah gripped her controls so hard she thought they might shatter. “It would be for nothing! If we lose everything for a prize we cannot hold, how long do you believe you will remain ilKhan?”
The channel fell silent for a moment.
Showers voice was shaking with frustration. “Khan Furey will not stay ahead of the Rasalhague infantry for much longer. You would abandon him.”
“No one warrior matters more than the Clan,” Sarah replied. “We lost the first round of this, but if we lick our wounds then we have a chance still in the next. But not if we throw away our strength now.”
“As IlKhan,” he answered her slowly, “I fight alongside my birth-clan. It is you and Furey who lead it. I accept your decision.”
Her decision. Her responsibility. Her blame… and her command. At last.
Sarah Weaver turned her Timber Wolf away from Fayettevil and away from the doomed Kincaid Furey. Today, at least the Smoke Jaguars were hers. As it should have been all along!
Galedon Island, Luthien
Diamond Shark Occupation Zone
8 July 3051
Victor had grown up with the expectation that one day his father would crush the Draconis Combine. After the reverses of the War of 3039, he had suspected that he might be left the task of finishing the work. But through the 3040s he had focused more on his education. There had been the occasional moment during conversations with those from the Draconis March that had inflamed the idea briefly, but for half his life the Federated Commonwealth had remained at peace - gradually building strength without any indication of using it.
The closest he had come to considering this was during a project at the Nagelring, planning a hypothetical invasion of Luthien, more concerned with grades than the reality.
But now here he was, making his first real combat jump - the pod rattling disconcertingly as it crashed through the atmosphere, ablating away from his grandmother’s Warhammer.
With a crash, the inner panels fell away and the framework disintegrated. Below him, Victor saw the glitter of the appropriately named Silver Sea, and the dark mass of Galedon Island. Around him, more pods were bursting open to reveal his battalion, along with hundreds of infantrymen. It seemed like a never ending swarm, but he knew that there were less than four hundred of them - the First Otomo Infantry battalion, reconstituted on New Samarkand, and ten full teams of the fearsome Draconis Elite Strike Teams: the ISF’s best commandos.
The altimeter continued to spin down and Victor worked at the controls, making sure he was descending feet first towards the surf. Water off the shore of the volcanic island got deep surprisingly quickly - landing too far from the shore could plunge him into depths that would crush his cockpit like an egg.
And if I miss that, the prince thought, we face the garrison.
Thousands of kilometers from the Imperial City, much of them ocean, Galedon Island had hosted a major military base dug into the slopes of Mount Galedon. It still did, but with its heavy combat units stripped to try to drive off the Diamond Sharks’ invasion, the remaining garrison had been dug out by Elementals. After that point, based on its relatively intact mech hangars and isolated, defensive position, the Diamond Sharks had placed their military headquarters there. Anything up to a full Cluster of Alpha Galaxy might be stationed here.
One would think that it was the last place for the resistance to hide fugitives, but for that reason it was what they had elected to do - hiding thousands of refugees right under the eyes of the Diamond Sharks.
And yet, as lights began to flash morse code upwards, it seemed to have succeeded. The correct messages were being sent, so unless the Sharks had managed to flip the loyalties of some of House Kurita’s most fanatical followers then the plan was working so far.
The jump-pack mounted to the back of Victor’s Warhammer fired and there was the disconcerting feeling of being yanked upwards, when he knew that he was actually still falling - just at a slower, hopefully survivable, velocity. He could feel the seventy-ton machine shake under the strain - the Warhammer wasn’t designed for this. Well, technically all ‘mechs were designed for it… since it had been a standard requirement for SLDF designs. But the Warhammer frame predated that expectation and StarCorps had altered the structure to accommodate it - not included from the beginning of the design.
The altimeter was still dropping sharply, but not quite as fast. A kilometer up and Victor could tell that he would land just short of the shore - although that was a matter of tide Wet sand wasn’t the worst place to land. He’d been assured that the beach was stable enough.
The jump-pack’s temperature was getting close to the redline, which wasn’t something he wanted on the back of his Warhammer so he shut it down for a few brief seconds and then burned the last few dregs of fuel a few heartbeats before he reached the ground.
Seventy tons of battlemech slammed into the sand with a crash that slammed Victor against his restraints and made him glad he had a boxer’s mouth guard to stop his teeth breaking - an old trick passed down from mechwarrior to mechwarrior.
There was no threat on his scope, so he hit the controls to detach the empty jump-pack and then opened the visor of his neurohelmet and worked the mouth guard out of his mouth and tucked it away in a plastic bag. “This is Red Leader, sound off status.”
“Red Two. Minor leg damage.”
“Red Three. Dragging Red Two ashore,” Matti chimed in.
“Don’t exaggerate, love,” Rudi brushed the matter off. “It’s just a busted ankle.”
“Red Four. I drifted north, almost on top of the home team,” Juniper reported. Fortunately Trellshire Heavy Industries built the Rifleman, so the one destroyed on Twycross had been easily replaced. “They’re shooting at me!” she added with a yelp that sounded more alarmed than fearful.
Victor cursed and started striding up the beach, water splashing around the Warhammer’s feet. “Situation, Red Four.”
“Just small arms!” The Rifleman wasn’t well armored by almost any standard, but it could at least take that. “Stop that, you buggers! I’m friendly!”
Victor snapped onto the command channel. “Chu-sa Kinnison, we have a situation.”
“I see it, your highness. We count fifteen ‘mechs inbound along the road to the north-west.”
“Not that, one of my ‘mechs is under fire from what looks like the people we’re here to pick up.”
The Otomo officer was far too professional to curse but Victor thought that he wanted it. “I will handle it, your highness. If you would take care of the Diamond Sharks, please?”
“Red Five, Red Nine, are your lances intact?” Victor demanded.
“Red Five confirms,” Kai said quietly.
“Red Nine, I’m down one ‘mech - came in too far south.” Havel sounded frustrated. “Reynolds punched out in time, but he’s having to swim ashore. We have a beacon.”
“Understood.” At least the mechwarrior was alive, even if his Commando would be missed. “Blue Leader, Gold Leader, we have a ‘mech trinary inbound on the road to the north-west. Blue Company move up and act as blockers along the road, Gold Company I want you south of the road, catch them in a crossfire.” Ideally, Victor wanted to move Red Company up north of the road, but there was no time… and he needed to command the battalion first, rather than throwing himself into the fight. “Red Company will form the reserve.”
There was a flood of confirmations and then Kai ordered: “Red Company, form up on Red Four’s location.”
Flanked by the two Thunderbolts, one limping, Victor obediently marched in Juniper’s direction. Leading the battalion meant that this was technically no longer his company, even if Kai had decided to command from second lance and leave the call signs as they were. Victor took it as his friend’s silent protest of a promotion he’d claimed not to deserve, and let the lanky mechwarrior have that point.
By the time they reached Juniper’s Rifleman, the only sign that she’d come under fire were some scuffed sections of her armor.
“Is everything alright?” Victor asked as he moved up next to the last member of his lance.
“Better than Twycross, sir,” the woman replied.
Down on the ground, four men were doing everything short of trying to hide their rifles behind their backs to pretend that they hadn’t been the ones shooting at Juniper. The post didn’t seem to impress a woman who, from her body language, was chewing them out good and proper.
She looked up and glanced at the ‘mechs and then back to her men, clearly dismissing the ‘mechs as not an immediate concern. That moment was long enough for Victor to realize that he was looking at Omiko Kurita. She was dressed plainly, in hiking boots, leggings and a windbreaker. At first he thought that she had a rifle hung across her back but then realized it was a long, cylindrical document case, the sort art students might use to carry their work around in.
Looking back towards the north-west, Victor saw the first LRMs begin to fire. Fifteen Clan Mechs against the twenty-four Lyran Guards might not sound like much, but the AFFC had lost with that sort of numerical advantage before. “Lady Kurita,” he requested on his loudspeakers. “Do you have any information on the garrison?” They’d come in under radio silence so there had been no way to get current intelligence.
Omi turned sharply towards his ‘mech and he thought she might have mouthed his name incredulously. Then she folded her arms. “I can, hauptmann,” she called.
Victor opened the canopy of his cockpit and hit the controls to extend the rope ladder used for entering in the field. “If you could join me please.”
There was a short exchange between Omi and one of the men, neither seeming impressed with the others decision and then the young woman caught the bottom of the ladder and started scaling it quickly.
The flash of a PPC against the morning’s darkness lit up the sky as she reached the cockpit and stared at Victor. “What in the world are you doing here?”
“The official answer is that the battalion that was supposed to be sent got stuck on the other side of the Draconis Rift,” Victor told her and indicated the tiny jumpseat behind his own. He’d really rather she was behind a ‘mech’s armor right now. “The possibility that your brother thinks it’ll be a grand political gesture of unity in the face of the Clans, or is just matchmaking hasn’t crossed my mind at all.”
Omi climbed inside. “I see I have a lot to talk about with both of you. The garrison though - it’s currently the Twenty-Seventh Cruiser Cluster. Forty-five mechs with a third of them on duty at any time - I imagine that’s them now.”
A ‘mech exploded in the distance and Victor didn’t think it was one of the Diamond Sharks.
“Over three hundred infantry, around seventy of their elementals - I believe they’re still understrength,” Omi continued. “Eighteen or twenty aerospace fighters, but you shouldn’t need to worry about them, we collapsed the hangar entrances from Mount Galedon - it’ll take hours to get them out.”
“Good work.” The plan had called for the resistance to prevent the local fighters from being used, so it was nice to know that had worked.
“It won’t take forever for them to call in fighters from elsewhere on Luthien,” Omi added. “Their Galaxy Commander is in the base now and he’s not a man who puts his ego ahead of his duty. He wasn’t in his quarters when we broke into them, unfortunately.”
“You broke into the personal quarters of the Diamond Sharks’ garrison commander?” Victor exclaimed. He checked the tactical display and saw that Blue and Gold companies were being forced back - more critically, a gap was forming between them that might let the Clanners through - and it would be at least another fifteen minutes before the dropships landed - after dropping the ‘mechs and infantry they’d overshot Galedon Island and were making their way back. “Hold that thought. Red Five, we’re going to need to plug that gap.”
“Confirmed, Red Leader. There’s some high ground in grid 17-2,” Kai responded. “Move your lance up there to hit them as soon as they try to get through. Red Nine, you’re with me. We’ll pen them up in the killing zone.”
A nice simple plan, whipped up on the spur of the moment, Victor thought. And Kai doubted he’d be able to cope with running a company. “Confirmed, Red Five.”
Omi gripped the back of his seat as Victor started the Warhammer moving. “If you are the leader, why is he giving orders?” she asked.
“It’s his company, but my battalion.” He grinned slightly, although he knew she couldn’t see him. “I’m a Kommandant now, not a Hauptmann.”
“Con-gratu-lations,” Omi offered as she struggled with the straps. “Minoru must be jealous.”
“He might be,” Victor replied, thinking about the paperwork and meetings he’d escaped by taking this mission. It must be vastly worse for the Coordinator. “But if so, he hid it well.”
The lance reached the little hill just as a pair of Dragons smashed through the defensive line, the two heavy ‘mechs loping over what was left of Greg Sheppard’s Shadow Hawk. For a moment, Victor was bemused - did the DCMS have ‘mechs on the field? - but then he realized that this must be salvage.
“The one on the left first,” he ordered and fired both his PPCs. Heat surged through the cockpit and he remembered that Omi had no cooling vest as the air warmed around them. Both particle bolts slammed into the Dragon smashing plating across its left arm and and side of the chest. A moment later, Juniper opened with her new Rifleman’s extended range PPCs.
Despite the pounding it was taking, the Dragon kept coming even after Matti’s Thunderbolt opened up with LRMs and the clantech large laser fitted to the right arm.
“What are these things made of? It shouldn’t be that tough!” Juniper exclaimed.
The Dragons returned fire, rapid fire pulse lasers stripping layers of armor off the Warhammer and the Rifleman, each picking their own target. If the increased durability wasn’t clue enough, the lasers marked that these weren’t standard Dragons.
Two more clan ‘mechs burst through the line - a battered Mad Dog and what Victor thought at first might be a Thunderbolt or Summoner. The warbook called it a Thresher.
Rudi’s Thunderbolt limped up over the crest of the hill and the four of them hammered fire into the Clan Dragon, stripping away more armor and finally the thermal bloom of a breach to the reactor shielding forced the Clanner into shut down.
Rudi and Matti were taking fire from the new arrivals, but dropping the first Dragon had taken some pressure off Victor. “Take the Mad Dog!” he ordered, and dropped one PPC out of his salvo to spare Omi some of the stifling heat.
Their shots hammered into the Omnimech, but Juniper’s Rifleman staggered and dropped to one knee - she was still taking a battering from the Dragon as it added LRMs to its salvos.
Then Kai arrived, the remaining eight ‘mechs of the company having flanked the hill. Bear Havel’s three light ‘mechs raced in to swarm the Mad Dog, lasers and missiles clawing into it from every direction. On the other side, Kai led a charge into the Thresher. While the three Phoenix Hawks distracted the heavy ‘mech, Kai cut around behind it and opened up on the rear armor, firing lasers and missiles.
Victor had never regretted pulling strings to have the Hellhound held back from shipments back to be studied. There had been several of them on Twycross, and while parts were to keep it going would have to be salvaged for now, while it lasted the clan battlemech gave Kai another edge besides his skill.
The Thresher’s flank blew apart as Kai’s Streak SRMs exploited the breach caused by his lasers.
Without needing any instructions, Matti and Rudi shifted their focus onto the last Dragon, stepping forwards with Victor to bring secondary weapons to bear. Eight medium lasers slashed across the armor plating, followed by SRMs and even machine gun fire as the three ‘mechs closed in.
Behind them, Juniper’s Rifleman lurched upright and then glowed on the infrared sensors as the mechwarrior unleashed an alpha strike.
Even with advanced heatsinks, the combination of two PPCs and four lasers was enough to shut Juniper’s ‘mech down almost instantly, but the salvo tore the right arm off the Dragon, depriving it of the large laser that replaced the autocannon - or perhaps the PPC if this had started out as a Grand Dragon.
Victor brought one of his arms around and drove the long, heavy PPC into the center of the chest, crushing the missile launcher. Then he twisted, raising the PPC in the other arm high before swinging it down on the cockpit.
The cockpit roof crushed inwards and armor-glass panels around it cracked. The Dragon collapsed, suggesting the mechwarrior within had been killed or at least stunned. Without them, the Dragon was unable to remain balanced and fell flat.
The Mad Dog and the Thresher had been finished off, Victor saw. He checked the wider battle and saw that Blue and Gold company had managed to close up again, forming a single line of seventeen ‘mechs pushing back only seven Diamond Shark.
Suddenly, perhaps on orders from elsewhere, the Clan mechs began to pull back - still firing but no longer trying to advance.
“You said there are another thirty ‘mechs here?” Victor asked.
“Yes,” she gasped. “Their warriors may not be ready to use them.”
“Blue Leader,” he ordered the commander of the least damaged of the two companies - nine ‘mechs strong. “Push after them up to the ten kilometer line. Gold Leader, pull your ‘mechs back, I want you in reserve if they have another force on their way.”
Up in the sky, the light of the dropship engines was visible.
“Are those your dropships?” Omi asked him.
“They are,” he confirmed. “How quickly can your people get here?”
“We commandeered buses and trucks last night,” she told him. “Give me twenty minutes and we’ll have four thousand people ready to board.” She paused. “They have been through a lot.”
“So have you,” Victor pointed out. Her brother a year ago, then her parents and grandfather here.
Omi didn’t reply immediately. He looked back and saw her wiping her eyes. “I can grieve when we are safe,” she told him. “Only then.”
Their eyes met, and then Victor looked away, embarrassed. She’d been on the run for months, trying to hold a rag tag group of refugees together on nerve alone. Of course she had not dared to show weakness.
He felt Omi’s fingers brush his shoulder. “Thank you,” she whispered. Then, louder. “May I use your comms?”
Victor nodded and saw her reach forward to plug in a headset she must have brought forwards. In a stream of japanese, she began calling in the ground convoy as the dropships began to loom large above the island.
-
Mount Galedon, Luthien
Diamond Shark Occupation Zone
9 July 3051
The command center was dim, lit as much by the lights of the screens as it was by cunning indirect lighting. At the center of several concentric circles of consoles - some vacant, others manned by Diamond Shark technicians - a raised platform allowed the commander to oversee what was going on.
That rather assumed an excellent understanding of what was being done at each workstation. Ace Enders would readily admit that he did not.
Of course, there was a long queue of people willing to make that claim before he could.
“This is your fault, Galaxy Commander,” Freya Eriksen accused. The Star Captain ought to be leading her binary to prevent the two dropships from taking off, and she was dressed for the cockpit… but the damage to the complex systems that should move the aerospace fighters from the hangar to the surface wouldn’t be repaired until at least midnight. “It was your choice to trust bondsmen. And look what it accomplished!”
Ace stared at her and then smirked, even though he didn’t feel any satisfaction. “Aff, Star Captain. That is my responsibility. If you wish to challenge me to a Trial of Grievance, you may do so. Although…” He paused. “You may wish to recall how that worked for everyone who has tried that.”
“Do you think I fear you?”
“I am curious to find out.” Then he turned away, looking at the other consoles. “You are concerned about those three. Perhaps even about me. But have you considered the hundreds of other bondsmen? Those who have, as far as we know, not taken such actions?”
“We cannot trust them.”
“We have no choice to trust them,” Ace told her, not looking back. “We cannot control dozens of planets with populations dwarfing our own. Our only choice to succeed here is to convince at least a minority of those living there to act on our behalf. These three are just the first of the occasions we will be betrayed - but if we cease to trust, then we will fail and everything our Clan has done since the vote to invade means nothing. Think about that. And if you have a better idea, tell me. Or tell Khan Sennet. But for now we have work to do.”
He heard Eriksen swallow. And then there was a crash as she kicked a chair over, causing some of the technicians to turn around to check the source.
Ace gestured for them to ignore it and keep working.
“I may well do that,” the pilot said threateningly.
“In the meantime, take charge of interrogating the traitors,” he ordered. “They got through chemical interrogation when they were vetted, see how they managed it. If we can learn something from this then it is not a total loss.”
Eriksen nodded. “I will do so.”
“And make sure you send a direct report to -”
“Sir!” a technician shouted, “the dropships are taking off,”
“Dammit!” Ace snapped. “Get me Star Commander Val.” Then he turned back to the pilot. “Send the report to Khan Sennet. If I am wrong, I will admit it.”
She nodded quietly and backed up.
“Sir, we have the Star Commander,” a comms tech reported.
Ace picked up a microphone on his podium. “Val, this is Ace.” The other young freebirth had been first to get out there after the active watch Trinary moved out - her Star should be nearest of those rushing to intercept the raiders.
“Galaxy Commander,” she reported. “We arrived too late.”
“Understood. Give me an initial report.”
“We linked up with Gamma Trinary’s survivors and moved on the landing site,” Val told him. “By the time we were in weapons range of the dropships, their thrusters were hot. We managed to land a few hits but once they gained altitude.”
“Yes, the inability of battlemechs to chase dropships is noted,” Ace concurred drily. “What are you seeing on the site.”
The freeborn officer paused in thought. “There are seven damaged Spheroid battlemechs, but none of ours. And… at least a hundred civilian vehicles. Trucks and buses.”
“I doubt they brought those,” Ace mused. “You mentioned spheroid ‘mechs? What about our own losses. There would be eight of them.”
“I see no sign of them.”
“Captured then,” he concluded. One more blow to rebuilding Alpha Galaxy. Not a huge one, but… “And the mechwarriors?”
“I see nothing, sir, I… one moment.”
Ace arched an eyebrow and muted his microphone. “Can the Twenty-First’s aerospace fighters make it in time to intercept the dropships?” he asked. The Twenty-Seventh’s fighters were penned up in their hangar and unfortunately the next nearest fighters, those of the Thirty-Ninth Striker Cluster, had been engaged in surveillance flights checking for cargo ships that had gone missing with metal being shipped to rebuild the infrastructure damaged in the fighting more than half a year ago.
“No sir. It’s close, but the only way they could catch up would be to burn so much fuel that…”
Ace cut the report off. “I accept your assessment. Don’t have them break off until they have to - one thing we are not sure of is hydrogen and the enemy might do something stupid.”
“Ace,” Val returned to the channel. “The bodies of two of our mechwarriors have been left, bagged up for burial. And the ‘mechs are not DCMS.”
Ace unmuted himself. “Are you sure?”
“The markings are those of the Lyran Guards. Possibly one of the units the Jade Falcons have fought.”
“Bizarre,” he admitted. “Does anything else stand out to you?”
“Nothing so far,” Val admitted.
“Keep looking for now. I do not know what they were doing here, but it must be important.” Ace cut the channel and set down the microphone. Then he recovered the seat that Eriksen had kicked, righted it and sat down to think.
The infiltration of the base had crippled aerospace response, allowing the raid, but it could not have been the point of the raid. The attack on his quarters… he would have died if he had not been visiting Val, and it was possible that could have been a goal. It would be a morale benefit to the Combine, he had made himself somewhat notorious… but of course it also did not need the dropships to arrive.
The trucks and buses Val had found… that had to be key. Someone or something must have arrived - from somewhere on Galedon Island itself - to board the dropships. This was not a raid, this was a recovery.
But who or what? Nothing had been taken from his quarters except the swords he had carried since Turtle Bay. And the trucks would not be needed for just two swords.
“Signal the dropships,” he ordered quietly. “See if they are willing to talk to me.”
The commtech looked confused in the dim light. “Sir?”
“Do it. It costs nothing at this point.” Ace leant back in the seat and contemplated the ceiling. He had no other card to play, but perhaps he could at least get some greater insight into what was happening.
After several minutes, the commtech turned around. “Sir, we have made contact with a Chu-sa Kinnison.” The commtech was a Diamond Shark, but he had been here long enough to pronounce the DCMS rank clearly. “He is routed to your station.”
“Good work.” Ace lifted the microphone. “Chu-sa Kinnison. This is Galaxy Commander Enders. My congratulations on a smoothly executed raid.”
The speakers crackled and then, in an accented voice: “I do not believe that the Ender of Takashi Kurita is offering mere congratulations, Galaxy Commander. You have a point, I suggest you get to it.”
Ace rolled forwards, leaning over the microphone. “Straight to the heart then. My aerospace forces advise that it is just barely within their capacity to intercept you. Possibly they will do enough damage to let us prevent you, but I confess it is also possible that I will sacrifice a not insignificant portion of my aerospace forces to do so. I offer you a bargain.”
Kinnison’s voice snapped with anger. “I do not bargain with -” He broke off and Ace thought he heard another voice faintly. Then, fractionally more calmly: “I see no harm in hearing your offer.”
“I have a question,” Ace told him. “Mere curiosity. Answer it, and I will call back my fighters.”
“What question is this?”
“One of your people took two swords from my quarters. I do not expect their return, but I am curious as to the reason.”
The next response did not come from Kinnison. It was a woman’s voice, someone young Ace thought. His own age, more or less. “The answer to your question, Galaxy Commander, is this: the swords were not yours. They belonged to my brother, and they belong with his family. Not decorating your walls as a trophy.”
Ace frowned. “I have never seen them as trophies.” A sister of the man he had helped commit suicide, of Hohiro Kurita? His eyes widened. So the Coordinator’s missing granddaughter was not with her other brother on New Samarkand, as he had assumed. “A reminder, yes. But your brother’s death was no victory.” He shook his head. So that was what this was about: a rescue mission. Why a Steiner unit was involved in rescuing a Kurita was interesting, but he had only bargained for one answer. “If the swords give you comfort, I can live without them.”
“As if you had a choice,” she replied sharply. For a moment he thought that she had ended the conversation, but then the Kurita asked: “You say it was no victory - what did you think of my brother?”
“I would say… a challenge that I failed,” Ace admitted. “He had potential. I do not think his honor was typical of your people or mine, but if persuaded he could have been a worthy Diamond Shark. I did not manage that - it was a waste that he died.”
“I do not believe my brother would ever have served your Clan. But yes. His death was a waste of everything he could have been.” Omiko Kurita made a sound that was half sob and half snarl. “He was worth ten of you.”
“Ah. Well perhaps his death was worthwhile then.” Ace shook his head. “Farewell, Omiko Kurita. I will not miss your presence here on Luthien.”
“Oh, you missed me for seven months,” Kurita riposted and this time she did cut the channel.
Ace rubbed his face. If she had been behind the resistance, then her absence might cut back on the trouble they were making for the occupation. Supplies had destroyed. Warriors murdered - and civilians trying to set up the Diamond Shark’s administration had not been spared. Alpha Galaxy’s slow recovery was due to more than the prioritization of supplies to the other three Galaxies.
If the fighting on Camlann led to heavy losses, he doubted the Clans’ advance would be able to continue for months. Ace had little definite idea about the state of the other Clans but he doubted they were much better off than the Diamond Sharks - and in some cases, they might be worse off.
“Tell the fighters to break off,” he ordered tiredly. “We lost this one.”
-
Smoke Jaguars continue to see how fast they can mess up their own future, so it'll be interesting to see if the other clans turn on the SJ remnants before they do themselves in. I'm also curious to see how the progress of the other clans are going. If enough have lost or are leaning toward losing, I could see the Sharks and Wolves doing enough for honor's sake without destroying their commands. On the other hand, if the potential results are close to going either way, I wonder if they'd both make slow deliberate progress that would end up preserving their forces while still completing their objectives but still letting the other clans gut their forces for diminishing returns as they end up losing overall.
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Smoke Jaguars continue to see how fast they can mess up their own future, so it'll be interesting to see if the other clans turn on the SJ remnants before they do themselves in. I'm also curious to see how the progress of the other clans are going. If enough have lost or are leaning toward losing, I could see the Sharks and Wolves doing enough for honor's sake without destroying their commands. On the other hand, if the potential results are close to going either way, I wonder if they'd both make slow deliberate progress that would end up preserving their forces while still completing their objectives but still letting the other clans gut their forces for diminishing returns as they end up losing overall.
One upside of bidding as little as the Jaguars did is that they´ll have more left even if their entire force is destroyed.
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Oh boy, Omiko will have some strong words with Minoru when she gets to New Samarkand.
If Jaguars lose their part of the trial and Clans in general lose the Cammlan trial, I reckon Showers will not be ilKhan for long. Election of the new one will be quite contentious.
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This may sound weird, but I’m glad Ace lost this one. His track record and successes have been meteoric, and while he’s put in the work too, ridiculous levels of natural talent have played a huge part. He’s generally a pretty humble guy for a Clan mechwarrior, but seeing him outmaneuvered like this should be helpful in preventing him from building up too much hubris in his other successes.
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Ace didn’t have much part to play in this one, so his plot armor didn’t help them. :)
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Victor needs to keep his head in the game, Omi can take a bit of heat if it keeps her, Victor and the Battalion of the 10th Lyran Guards alive :rolleyes:
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I think Ace was glad he "lost" this one... He got rid of the most effective resistance, and it only cost him a bit less than a trinary and some time.
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That last burn from Omiko though...
-
Opalescent Reflections
House of Cards
Chapter 9
Sanhuan, Camlann
Benjamin District, Draconis Combine
9 July 3051
“Stop wasting ammunition on the tanks!” Aidan shouted over the command channel and fired his jump jets.
The Summoner roared up into the air and descended again on top of the Burke tank that was trying to pull away at its snail-like top speed. In no way designed to support an additional seventy tons on top of its turret, the heavy tank deformed and Aidan suspected that most of the crew did the same.
From his new position, the Star Colonel opened fire on a Black Knight that was trying to give covering fire to infantry retreating from the trenches outside Sanhuan, missing with his PPC but stitching a line of broken armor up its arm with the large pulse laser mounted where most Summoners carried an autocannon.
To their credit, the Gyrfalcon Guards followed his example despite the questionable honor of the tactic. Mechwarrior Diana’s Nova left the ground a moment ahead of Horse’s Summoner. The young mechwarrior fired both her PPCs from mid-air, one blasting more armor from the Black Knight and the other missing, before she came down on a Brutus. Diana landed off-center, failing to crush the turret, but the broad feet of the Nova tore apart the tracks on one side of the tank, crippling it.
Horse had chosen one of the Armored Personnel Carriers, his Viper smashing the empty troop compartment flat. Then the elementals clinging to the forty ton omnimech leapt into the infantry, adding their firepower to the ‘mech’s as they scythed through the ComGuards.
Aidan’s anti-missile system, was long-since empty, but he had a handful of LRMs left and he emptied what was rest into the Black Knight as he loped towards a Fury tank.
The Fury’s Gauss Rifle tracked onto the Jade Falcon’s Summoner and unleashed a slug that shattered armor on the omnimech’s thigh, causing Aidan to stumble slightly due to the impact. The Black Knight was striding purposely forwards, lasers barely missing him due to the stumble. The SLDF ‘mech had been refitted with a sword that sounded ridiculous in theory, but Mechwarrior Falk’s Hellbringer was already missing an arm after it got too close.
Aidan fired his jump-jets as soon as they were charged, opening the distance from the Black Knight and closing it with the Fury. While the tank was more agile than the Burke, the long flat hull was a relatively easy target for the Jade Falcon to land upon and the ancient tank almost snapped in two under the impact.
Diana came off the Brutus, taking hits from its turret-mounted lasers in order to get behind the Black Knight. The ‘mech, already heating up dangerously, shut down completely as a pair of PPCs blew through its rear armour and the reactor shielding.
In return, Aidan fired his PPC and pulse laser into the Burke, immobilizing the turret.
The destruction of the Black Knight seemed to mark the end of active resistance - a Crab and a Kintaro were all that remained of the few ‘mechs among the battalion-sized force that the Gyrfalcon Guards had run into and the medium ‘mechs scampered over a ridge and out of direct sight as they entered Sanhuan.
“Hold and secure our position,” Aidan barked. “Alpha Talon, Bravo Talon, swing out and check our flanks.” The two Stars were mostly light and fast omnimechs, able to push out quickly to find out how near the next ComGuards forces were. “Echo Nova and Delta Nova, push in one block and for Turkina’s sake, watch out for ambushes.”
The two stars of assault ‘mechs obediently headed into the city, elementals climbing to them - more valuable for the addition of extra eyes right now than for their limited firepower.
The fight seemed to have gone out of the infantry once the tanks and ‘mechs were gone. Against just the Elementals of the Gyrfalcon Guards, they might have stood a slim chance but without their own support to keep the ‘mechs busy, that wasn’t the case and men and women dropped their weapons and raised their hands in surrender.
“We could do with some repairs,” Horse noted. His Viper’s armor showed the marks of a day of combat. This had been the third time since dawn that they’d found themselves fighting the ComGuards and while the Gyrfalcons had never been defeated, each fight had worn them down. “Who knew the Spheroids had warriors like this?”
“We should have,” Aidan noted. “The Smoke Jaguars have fought them. And from their bidding, the Diamond Sharks and Wolves may have suspected.” The two Clans had bid about the same (eleven Diamond Shark clusters and twelve slightly smaller Wolf Clusters) and refused to be moved from that, which had left them landing days after the rest of the Clans.
Aidan’s comm panel crackled and checked it, determining that someone was trying to reach him via an unencrypted channel. “-lcon commander, this is Precentor-Legate Mulvenna, please respond. Say again, Jade Falcon commander, this is Precentor-Legate Mulvenna, please -”
“This is Star Colonel Pryde of the Gyrfalcon Guards,” Aidan interrupted. He wasn’t very familiar with ComGuard ranks, but Precentors were at least his equivalent or more senior. “Who are you and what do you want?” No other Jade Falcon had spoken up, suggesting that they were unable or unwilling to respond.
“Star Colonel,” Mulvenna replied. “I command the ComGuards’ Ninth V-Lambda, the division defending San Huan. I believe that it is the Gyrfalcon Guards who have reached the edge of the city?”
Aidan glanced at the buildings in various states of ruin ahead of him. “That is accurate.” If she was buying time to launch artillery strikes then he hoped he’d have some warning. On the other hand, Horse was right - repairs and reloading were definitely desirable.
“Based on our current losses, I do not believe that continuing to fight for Sanhuan would result in anything other than losses for both sides,” the Precentor informed him. “Under the circumstances, I am willing to cede the city without further fighting if you will allow us to withdraw.”
Aidan frowned. A fight through the city would be costly, from what little experience he had of urban combat. But in that case why were the ComGuards not willing to keep fighting. Even if they took a disproportionate share of the losses, they’d be weakening the Jade Falcons before they could reach their next target, Sancisco.
Still, sometimes an opportunity was exactly what it seemed to be. And his orders were to take Sanhuan at any cost. “Very well, Precentor Mulvanne. How long do you expect your withdrawal to require?”
She sounded relieved. “I request twelve hours.”
“Six,” he argued reflexively. Whatever the first offer made was, it was always too generous.
“That would be barely long enough to load our heavy equipment,” she protested. “Not to mention evacuating the field hospitals. I would have to detonate my munitions and fuels in place, which would pollute the city further.”
It was a pity, Aidan thought, that the ComGuards munitions were of no use to the Jade Falcons. At some point in the distant past, the two had taken different paths in standardizing missile and autocannon ammunition. “Twelve hours is also long enough for reinforcements to arrive from Sancisco if they depart now,” he pointed out. “I do not want to find that while you are abandoning the city, one of your peers is trying to recover it before you have even left.”
“I assure you that that will not happen,” Mulvanne told him with an air of dignity. “I have confirmed with Precentor Martial Focht that we are giving up Sanhuan and focusing our remaining efforts on preventing you from taking Sancisco.”
Aidan considered the matter and then pulled up a map of the city. “Your main stores are located in the old port area,” he observed. “I will give you three hours to withdraw everything into that part of Sanhuan, and then six hours to finish loading. Anything - or anyone - left behind at that point will be considered isorla to Clan Jade Falcon. And there is to be no destruction of your stocks. As you correctly point out, that could be problematic.” The thick smoke caused by large explosions might well include layers of toxic material buried under debris for centuries.
The precentor hesitated for a moment. “Very well. Nine hours in total counting from this moment. I will order my troops not to fire unless fired upon, and to withdraw into the old port within the three hour deadline.”
“Bargained well and done, Precentor,” Aidan told her. “I will communicate this agreement to the rest of our units.”
“No one has seen ComGuards,” Horse told him once the conversation was over. “Not on the flanks and not ahead of us.”
“Move forwards cautiously,” he ordered. “Do not fire unless fired upon. The Comguards have decided to cede the city.”
“That is very… helpful of them,” the freeborn officer observed suspiciously. “They haven’t lost a city yet.”
“That is one reason I chose to accept,” Aidan admitted. “I suspect that they want to consolidate their remaining forces guarding Sancisco, which will make that harder, but right now we could do with a win. Now I just have to convince Mar Helmer.”
Although he hadn’t responded to Mulvanne, the commander of Vau Galaxy replied almost immediately when Aidan opened communications. “If you want more ammunition, you will need to wait until sunset,” he warned before Aidan could broach the purpose of making contact. “Supply vehicles have been hammered by airstrikes so we have to move them more cautiously.”
“In that case I have good news,” Aidan replied. “The ComGuards commander has just surrendered Sanhuan. I have agreed terms for their remaining forces to withdraw.”
“You agreed terms?” Helmer demanded. “Without consulting me?”
“My orders were to take Sanhuan at any cost,” Aidan replied. “I interpret that to mean spending time is as acceptable as spending the lives of my warriors.”
“I knew Chistu was sending me a barracks-lawyer,” the Galaxy Commander growled. “Your reputation precedes you. What have you offered them?”
“The ComGuards have three hours to consolidate in the old port district and six further hours to leave the city. I anticipate that they will cross the strait to join the forces in Sancisco. During that time we have a ceasefire, although this will only include their Ninth Division, so airstrikes launched from other ComGuards units remain possible.”
Helmer took a deep breath. “Star Colonel Marthe Pryde,” he challenged, stressing the personal name of Aidan’s old sibkin. “Your Jaegers can reach the port and cut off the ComGuards’ retreat, quiaff?”
Aidan’s eyes narrowed. If Helmer ordered that…
“Neg,” Marthe responded flatly. “Our ammunition is almost depleted and half my Cluster need repairs. An urban battle at this point would exhaust us. I counsel that Vau Galaxy count ourselves victorious. We have achieved what Gamma Galaxy failed to yesterday, what no other Clan has yet accomplished. Aidan’s bargain is well-struck.”
“Prydes,” Helmer grumbled. “Very well, I will inform the Khans. The Gyrfalcon Guards are to hold their current position until additional Clusters arrive to join the advance into the city. You understand, quiaff?”
“Aff,” Aidan confirmed, glad to have had Marthe’s support for once.
While the Guards didn’t lower their guard, there was a degree to which they were more relaxed once word was passed down that there should be no further fighting today. It was a mark of how hard they had been pressed that even Jade Falcons were not eager to press harder. Prisoners were herded together under shelter where they could wait for support elements to come and take them into custody.
It was over an hour before additional Jade Falcon forces arrived - Mar Helmer marching with the 305th Assault Cluster at the head of a long column of ‘mechs and elementals while aerospace fighters circled watchfully above.
Aidan formed up two of his four trinaries to stand formally to one side of the road and the ‘mechs raised their arms in salute as the Galaxy Commander marched past. However little he might enjoy it, Mar Helmer was a firm traditionalist and so he returned the salute, as did the ‘mechs following him. The 305th were followed by Marthe’s Second Falcon Jaegers, the last of the three Vau Galaxy clusters committed to the Battle of Camlann.
Aidan was pleased to receive Marthe’s salute, the recognition from someone he’d known so long was sweet, but he was less happy about the evident damage many of the ‘mechs had taken.
“I do not recall where I last saw so many battered ‘mechs,” Horse gave voice to the same thought. “I have seen Grand Melees that looked better in the aftermath.”
“In a grand melee, all but one ‘mech will be disabled,” pointed out Diana. “Here the ‘mechs are still battleworthy.”
“Barely,” Horse grumbled. “If we attempt an amphibious assault, all that armor will need to be repaired. Right now we would lose almost the entire Galaxy to leaks before we were halfway across.”
Sanhuan was on an island, so reaching the Jade Falcon’s second target would be a challenge, Aidan thought. A suborbital hop would be possible, using their dropships, but it would give the ComGuards fighters a second chance to take out entire dropships of troops. And if they had any sort of warning they might concentrate their assets - at least in the initial landings five Clans had been landing at once. It was entirely probable that aerospace fighters from all around the Midland Sea might be able to attempt interceptions.
Just as the Jaegers had finished parading past and Aidan was about to order the Gyrfalcons to follow, more omnimechs arrived, these in distinct colors. The Falcon Guards had arrived to march past their traditional rivals into San Huan.
At their head, a Hellbringer with the star and bar of a khan next to the Jade Falcon emblem stepped out of line and stood next to Aidan’s Summoner. The arrival of Timur Malthus settled the question of whether the Falcon Guards would offer the same salute as the previous two Clusters and Aidan couldn’t help to smile as he saw a particular Mad Dog raise its arm crisply to him. Joanna must be seething.
“Warriors of the Gyrfalcon Guards,” the saKhan declared, voice booming from the Hellbringer’s loudspeakers once the last Falcon Guard had passed. “It is not a year yet since the dishonor on Twycross, but you have risen like a phoenix to grasp honors equal to those who came before you. Your victory today takes place at a moment when our Clan - when all the Clans - greatly need one.”
Aidan looked over at the Khan’s mech, curiously. Yes, they had taken a city and yes they were first to do so… but that was barely a beginning to the campaign, quiaff?
“As the ComGuards were surrendering to you,” Malthus continued, “Clan Nova Cat had been driven to retreat, claiming inability to continue operations due to a lack of supplies.” He sounded scornful of such an excuse. “More seriously, ilKhan Showers has been wounded and forced from the field leading an attack on Fayettevil. Khan Weaver of the Smoke Jaguars was offered hegira by the ComGuards’ commander and has accepted this.”
Aidan hissed in alarm. Two Clans had been defeated?! This early? That was four cities that were essentially no longer going to be captured, and if the Clans did not manage to take at least seven of their fourteen targets then they would be honorbound to stop the invasion.
“The burden of continuing our grand crusade falls to the remaining Clans,” Malthus continued. “Today, Clan Jade Falcon stands foremost, and once we have made good our repairs, we shall prove it once more.” Then he gestured to the road. “Star Colonel Pryde, I would be honored to march into Sanhuan with you, at the head of the warriors who have made today possible.”
Putting his concerns aside, Aidan moved his Summoner to walk next to the Khan’s Hellbringer. Horse and Diana fell in behind them, then the rest of the Gyrfalcon Guards.
At least, Aidan thought, there was time to re-arm before they tried to cross the strait. If the ComGuards’ Ninth Division had been forced to withdraw then they would be only a modest supplement to the forces facing them there.
But before the last barges of the ComGuards had finished undocking at the port, carrying Ninth Division’s survivors across the strait, there were reports that at least some brigades of the Third and Fourth Divisions, which had been facing the Nova Cats, were being loaded onto ships. A simple check on transport times told Aidan that those troops would be across the Midlands Sea before the Jade Falcons were ready to attack Sancisco. The odds against them had doubled, and even Timur Malthus no longer sounded confident.
-
Mount Galedon, Luthien
Clan Diamond Shark Occupation Zone
14 July 3051
They met somewhere that did not exist.
The Diamond Shark Clan Council’s members were scattered across more than a thousand light years. They could have been projected into a real room - whether it was their traditional gathering place on Strana Mechty or a compartment on the battleship Terror of the Deep - but instead they occupied a virtual environment, images floating in fluid order above the sea and below the night sky.
Those with access to a holo-camera were displayed in full, but many were depending on the cockpits of their battlemechs, aerospace fighters or inside elemental armor. Not while fighting, of course, but using the communications suites. These individuals looked at the rest of the Council through screens as if they were gazing through an open window. The Khans were both in that latter group, but each grew as they spoke, as did everyone to some degree.
“Trothkin.” The format did not allow Barbara Sennet to make histrionic gestures - she was within the cockpit of her Summoner. “As your Khan it is my duty to lead, but it is also the duty of the Council to direct me as to policy. When my decisions are questioned, it is right and just that I bring the matter before you so that the will of the Clan be known, clear and absolute.”
Ace heard whispering voices. At least half of those present seemed to have some idea of what the issue was, but the directive to gather had been frustratingly obscure. Those in the know were for the most part confined behind their screens, so he guessed that this was a matter that had arisen on Camlann.
“Operation Revival is over,” Khan Sennet informed them calmly. “The battle for Camlann is lost and with it, Leo Shower’s invasion plan.”
There was a rising sound of dissent from within the Council. Most had counted themselves among the Wardens, Ace thought. Most probably still did, however pointless it might be at this point. But warden or crusader, no one here liked to lose. And he had to admit that he was no exception.
Semi Kalasa was not on the battlefield. She raised her arms high. “Let the Khan speak, let the matter be known,” she demanded. “We are not children. Listen, judge and then we shall decide.”
When the hundreds of bloodnamed warriors had fallen silent, Sennet continued. “Only two Clans remain on the battlefield at this time, ourselves and Clan Wolf. Two Clans, the Jade Falcons and Ghost Bears, have seized one of their objectives but can do no more. Three others have failed entirely. It is no longer possible for us to claim even half of the fourteen objectives. The invasion has failed. It is my intention to withdraw the touman from Camlann.”
Evangeline Clarke of Rho Spina Galaxy, back in the homeworlds, stepped up in challenge. Her image grew to twice the height of those who yet to speak clearly. “We have taken our objectives? There is no more we can do, quiaff?”
“Neg.” Barbara Sennet stared unrepentantly out at them. “The last year has left hundreds of our warriors dead, crippled or needing months to recover from their wounds. For the last seven days we have drawn ComGuard forces away from the objectives so that we can crush them in the field. This has not been without loss but it has been affordable - a lesson the Steel Vipers appear not to grasp.”
For the first time, Bikendi Vewas raised his voice. “Clan Steel Viper’s bid for this battle was less than half our own. Six Clusters, and the Vipers use smaller Clusters as a rule. Khan Breen boasted of smashing the ComGuards before we set foot on the world. Her ignorance has cost her half of their Alpha and Gamma Galaxies - less than one in six of those she led managed to reach their dropships. The Viper’s failing has turned the tide of Camlann decisively. All that remains is to count the cost.”
“The Jade Falcons and Ghost Bears have at least taken an objective,” Clarke declared boldly. “They can claim, with justice, that they have done their part. That if every Clan had done so well, that we would at least have a draw. How can our warriors withdraw without doing at least as well.”
“Because it changes nothing?” Ace asked her drily. They were equals now, at least in theory. He was not sure how the famous Blood Angel felt about that. She, like Hawker, refused to accept freeborn warriors in her command but it was well known that Clarke based this on their inability to earn a bloodname. He, who had one, was an aberration. Still, she had spoke for him once - out of principle - and he would not have openly opposed her without sound reason. This counted, he thought. “Because it is wasteful?”
“You are half right,” Clarke allowed. “It is wasteful. But it does change matters. If we do not even try, then we will be seen as less than even those who failed. Our commitment to the other Clans will be questioned, we will have broken the unity. That is not something to do lightly.”
“Is it true,” another voice asked, “That the Falcons are dismissing their Khan for failing to do more?” Ace saw that it was Ulna Oshika, another homeworlder. She had been his commander once, but while she had not advanced in rank since, Ace had risen from her junior to her superior.
Khan Vewas gave them a half smile. “Khan Crichell is sensitive to criticism, and finds it easier to let blame fall on his saKhan. Timur Malthus faces challenge from the Jade Falcon’s Clan Council and it does seem unlikely that he will retain his current position.” Then his face stiffened. “Which I would count as their error. Khan Malthus decided wisely in not overreaching and he has my respect.”
“Perhaps, but that is a risk that we run as well. Of doing less than we could,” Clarke persisted.
“That is why I bring the matter to the vote,” agreed Barbara Sennet. “I believe that preserving our forces matters more than the complaints of Clans who not only failed but did all they could to keep us from success. If the Council vote otherwise, then I will obey.” Her eyes seemed to seek out a few faces, Ace’s among them. “This is no time for refusal and division.”
One of the few council members not wearing a warrior’s uniform chose to make his voice known. “On the battlefield there is little time for consultation.” Angus Labov looked as if he could step right back into command of his Cluster despite his Merchant Factor’s uniform. He might get the chance, given the number of retired warriors who had been recalled already. “If only two Clans are still fighting then the ComGuards are no doubt gathering massive numbers against them.”
“And if Khan Sennet has her way, then Clan Wolf would face that alone,” observed Oshika in a neutral tone.
“That is Clan Wolf’s problem,” Labov told her. “If they wish to die for their pride, so be it. But we are the Diamond Sharks - as warriors, we may have to die for the Clan’s good, but that should never be our first choice.”
Ace stretched lightly. “We have already taken losses. Alpha Galaxy is still rebuilding six months after Luthien. Operation Revival’s end means we are no longer bound by the bidding for that. We need to expand the touman just to control the worlds we have seized. Taking losses for no concrete return makes no sense to me.”
Others spoke up, eager to have their say and the loremaster let that play out for a few minutes before calling for silence again. “This is a battlefield decision. Let us vote now, before the decision is taken from our hands.”
No one argued with that point. The tactical manuals used by the Clans had retained the ancient axiom that in battle the enemy always had a vote.
Images were whisked around ocean sky, forming ranks alongside either Evangeline Clarke or Barbara Sennet to show how they had voted. Ace noticed that more than half those facing him from Clarke’s side were only present by screen and most likely were on Camlann at the moment. But they were still outnumbered three to one by those who agreed with Sennet’s argument.
The Blood Angel could count as well as Ace and she bowed her head. “I accept the result. Does anyone else here call for Refusal?”
A few of the warriors near her looked as if they were considering speaking up so Ace decided to… discourage them. “I stand ready to defend the vote,” he offered. Three to one odds in his favor, and since he was on Luthien it would limit the opportunity to participate to Alpha Galaxy. Unsurprisingly, he had no takers.
“Fifteen years before we can continue.” Ace heard the voice from next to him - Star Colonel Jay Arlond was using the same holotank, though they couldn’t see each other at the moment. “I will be lucky to have warrior status by then, much less a command role.” Arlond was closer to forty years old than he was to thirty.
Ace considered the situation and then chuckled. “I would not worry. The Inner Sphere will want their worlds back. I doubt this agreement will last even half that long. There will be plenty of battles for you, Star Colonel.”
“That is likely.” Bikendi Vewas’ image had approached Ace unnoticed and was close enough to hear the remark. The SaKhan looked at the diminishing crowd of warriors - with the decision made, those on Camlann were disconnecting so that they could begin carrying out Sennet’s orders. The Khan herself was gone. “Do not disconnect, Enders.”
“My Khan?” Ace asked.
The homeworld contingent blinked out as one, once the HPG links that brought their images all the way from the Homeworlds shut down.
“The Khan has a new mission for you,” Vewas informed him. “Once she has confirmed her orders on Camlann, she will explain it to you personally.”
“Alpha Galaxy stands ready,” Ace promised. Well, for a given value of ready. They were at about seventy-five percent of their paper strength, but they could fight.
But Khan Vewas shook his head. “For you. Not for your Galaxy.”
ComStar Field Hospital #3, Camlann
Benjamin District, Draconis Combine
15 July 3051
Wei had been walking the hospital wards for hours. It felt like days.
If a ward wasn’t full of the bedridden, then the walking wounded were dazedly confirming their conditions and trying to convince each other that they would recover. And then there were the rooms of what were delicately called ‘psychological casualties’.
Those were the worst, Wei thought. But at the same time, they were where her training told her she could probably do the most good. It wasn’t exactly the sort of therapy she’d majored in, but sometimes a human touch and assuring the soldiers that what they had gone through had been worthwhile could start the long road to healing.
In the privacy of the washroom, she washed her face and hands, forcing herself to smile into the mirror until it looked natural again.
It was unworthy, given her part in this, but she would be glad to leave the hospital. Set up around a pair of dedicated hospital dropships, the prefabricated structure was temporary in a way that the wounds done were not. Many would carry the damage done over the last week for the rest of their lives, but in a few more weeks the entire complex would be removed as if it had never been here.
Before she could go into another ward, one of the acolytes of her escort held out one hand. “Primus, the Precentor Martial wishes to speak to you.”
Wei paused and then looked over at the adept from the hospital administration. “If I could have a room, please?” Politeness cost her nothing.
“Of course,” the woman said graciously. “Please use my office.”
The office was a small, functional space. Just large enough for a folding desk and a chair. No room even for a guest, but there was a military-grade comm-console built into one wall. Wei sat in the chair and winced. Surely doctor’s should know they needed more back support… perhaps it was bought on a budget, or there was a limit on what could be easily packed.
The acolyte had gone ahead to set up the call so all Wei had to do was enter her codes to ensure that the conversation was secure. The moment she had done so, the display lit up and she saw the familiar face of Anastaisus Focht. “Primus.”
Wei’s lips quirked. “I think we can afford a little informality, Anastasius… although that’s still a mouthful.”
He rubbed his face - there were new lines there. “I did not select it for ease of abbreviation, Primus.”
“Nasty, maybe,” she said in a moment of whimsy. “Never mind. With the battle this close to being over, I didn’t expect you to contact me.”
“I fear we are not as near to ending the fighting as we both hoped,” Focht replied solemnly.
A chill went down Wei’s spine. “Aren’t the Clans withdrawing?”
“There has been no change since our last conversation,” he told her.
“Then…”
“No change, in this case, means that Clan Wolf is still advancing on Huntsvil.”
“What?” she exclaimed, coming halfway out of her seat. “But why?”
The Clans had been beaten! Four… well, three… had been driven off world. The Diamond Sharks were withdrawing of their own accord and the other three Clans, though they had taken one objective each had been bloodied badly and would face twice the opposition if they moved on to their next targets, with forces ferried around the Midland Sea, taking intact units from cities no longer under threat to reinforce those that might be.
Whether it was three cities or four cities fallen, it made no difference… assuming that the terms held.
“I thought Khan Kerensky opposed the invasion,” she continued, forcing herself to sit back down. “Why is he doing this?”
The white-haired Precentor Martial looked rueful. “I can only speculate, since he has not confided in me. We know that the Jade Falcons and Ghost Bears are making a point of hosting visitors from the other Clans in Sanhuan and Chambersburk - showing off that even if they failed, that they had done better than their rivals, It is possible that Khan Kerensky wishes to eclipse that accomplishment. Seizing two objectives may be a status symbol, marking Clan Wolf as the better Clan.”
Wei shook her head in disbelief. “He’s willing to kill Blake knows how many of his soldiers and ours out of pride?”
“A warrior’s pride can be a powerful thing,” Focht told her. “And it is hard to say how this might affect the politics of the Clans. He may justify it as necessary for him to stay in power.”
That gave her pause and Wei pinched the brow of her nose. How many times had she made decisions she disliked because the alternative was weakening her position as ComStar’s leader, and thus her ability to direct the Order towards her own goals. “I suppose his exact reasons may not matter. What do you recommend - should we just withdraw from the Huntsvil and let him have it? Get this over with?”
“No,” the old man said sharply. “Primus, I really do not recommend that. The Clans have not formally conceded. If they believe we are too weak to stop Clan Wolf from taking control of Huntersvil, then those Clans may decide to resume operations. The Nova Cats and Smoke Jaguars have had time to recover and the Diamond Sharks’ forces are largely intact. If they returned, they might be able to seize cities we’ve stripped of defenders to reinforce other fronts.”
“So we have to fight them, even now.” Wei shook her head. “What an utter waste.”
“Perhaps so. Almost a quarter of our remaini`ng forces are concentrated around Huntsvil,” Focht told her. “It’ll be harder for them to take than Colliervil was. Ideally I’d like to move another division in - the Wolves are outnumbered but not by as much as I’d like. Unfortunately, I’ve already pulled reserves out of southern Avalon to reinforce the forces facing the Ghost Bears, Jade Falcons and Diamond Sharks. It will take time for them to return.”
Wei ran her hands through her hair. “You’re thinking about Mansdottir’s request.”
“I am. Sending the remaining Kungsarme against the Wolves made no sense when we thought they would withdraw. But now…”
After the Smoke Jaguars had withdrawn, General Mansdottir had petitioned that his forces, consolidated into just three brigades, be allowed to strike south to where Clan Wolf was just making a start on their own campaign. At that time, the Precentor Martial had turned him down, asking him to wait and take more time to rest his soldiers and repair his equipment.
Undaunted, the leader of the exiled Rasalhague soldiers had contacted Wei Rong, asking that she overrule Focht’s decision. Diplomatically, she’d agreed to speak to the Precentor Martial about using the Kungsarme as a reserve as needed, which had seemed unlikely at the time. She could understand, if not agree with, their fervor - Clan Wolf was as responsible as Clan Smoke Jaguar for the conquest of their home worlds.
But now there was a need - and the two cities the Smoke Jaguars had been fighting for were in the north of Avalon, meaning that the Kungsarme was perfectly placed to move south and join the fight.
“Three brigades isn’t a huge force,” she noted cautiously.
“It could turn the tide,” Focht corrected her. “If Mandottir marches south now, he could catch the Wolves in the rear as they approach Huntsvil, threatening their supply lines. It would pull forces away from attacking the city - and bluntly, if Mansdottir and his warriors are eager to fight the Wolves, I do not see why they should not. Better them than our own forces.”
Wei thought of the soldiers lying in hospital beds, almost in earshot. Either way, more men and women would be brought here - broken in mind, body or both. “I will give him the choice,” she said at last. “Make sure you have a contingency if he has thought better of the idea, although I doubt that he will.”
-
Interesting developments all around!
-
Shark decision was a rational one, but other clans will see as a confession of weakness, they can expect a lot more trials for their possessions in the homeworlds, possibly also in the occupation zone.
Depending on how badly wounded Leo Showers is, the Jaguar power struggles could be interesting.
-
Shark decision was a rational one, but other clans will see as a confession of weakness, they can expect a lot more trials for their possessions in the homeworlds, possibly also in the occupation zone.
Depending on how badly wounded Leo Showers is, the Jaguar power struggles could be interesting.
On the plus side, they are the clan with more seasoned forces, not wasting then on that lost big battle.
-
The Sharks ceded all their IS border worlds with the Jaguars to the Ghost Bears, right? Otherwise I'd expect a lot of vengeful Jaguar trials against the Shark occupation zone. Not that the Jaguar touman could support such a campaign for long, but they'd try it none the less, I think.
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The Sharks ceded all their IS border worlds with the Jaguars to the Ghost Bears, right? Otherwise I'd expect a lot of vengeful Jaguar trials against the Shark occupation zone. Not that the Jaguar touman could support such a campaign for long, but they'd try it none the less, I think.
Oh yes, indeed. Jags must Jag.
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Shark decision was a rational one, but other clans will see as a confession of weakness, they can expect a lot more trials for their possessions in the homeworlds, possibly also in the occupation zone.
The Sharks ceded all their IS border worlds with the Jaguars to the Ghost Bears, right? Otherwise I'd expect a lot of vengeful Jaguar trials against the Shark occupation zone. Not that the Jaguar touman could support such a campaign for long, but they'd try it none the less, I think.
Good luck with that. The Sharks have been slowly decreasing their holdings in the Homeworlds in favor of investing more in the OZ. In the OZs, there's only a small strip of worlds way in the back where Shark and Jaguar worlds are 1 jump apart. The only notable target is Nykvarn, one jump away from Polcenigo and likely site of factories that are being rebuilt. But conversely, if the Sharks were trial for and successfully seize Polcenigo, the Jaguars would be a relatively safe 2 jumps away from Nykvarn and Polcenigo itself has only one Jaguar world within 1 jump of it.
Politically, the withdrawal from Camlann will hurt the Sharks, but.... who would punish them? Jags are already stretched thin. Bears will likely side with them. Wolves... I wonder if they can buy Wolf support by contracting a couple of clusters for the Wolves' final push. The Vipers... good luck with some 85% of their best galaxies lost on Camlann. They'll harbor a deep grudge, but that's about all they're good at. The Nova Cats are long term allies as well.
Most importantly, despite their withdrawal, from Camlann, they have one feather in their cap that none others can match: Luthien. The Smoke Jaguars might have captured Rasalhague, but they committed an atrocity in doing so. By comparison, the Sharks by themselves committed almost half as many forces as the entire combined Clan force at Camlann. And the victory was relatively clean, with the side bonus of killing one Successor Lord and his heir. As the Falcons put it, they've done their part.
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I wonder if the Wolves´ - i.e. Ulric Kerensky´s - motivation for continuing on Camlann is to get as many Crusader warriors as possible killed off...
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I wonder if the Wolves´ - i.e. Ulric Kerensky´s - motivation for continuing on Camlann is to get as many Crusader warriors as possible killed off...
I was thinking more of Showers losing ilKhan and then Kerensky setting himself up as the most capable of replacing him due to the Wolves having the greatest success on Camlann. Right now it would be between the three that captured one city each, but if the Wolves can take two ....
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I hope that the Clans will now make an actual effort to conquer everything above the truce line.
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Only two clans have such borders and Sharks acknowledge they don't have the manpower to do it, while Falcons and Nova Cats are likely too focused on Terra to try something so foolish. They might push for Arcturus though, although the Battle of Camlann gave FC a breather to better prepare for their assault. Would be interesting to see what happens if Wolves lose their plot armor and lose the battle for Huntsville.
The Sharks ceded all their IS border worlds with the Jaguars to the Ghost Bears, right?
Here is a map drakensis made https://drive.google.com/file/d/1_oJX_sZH1KsUYV89z7710imEpnN0gVg2/view?pli=1 (https://drive.google.com/file/d/1_oJX_sZH1KsUYV89z7710imEpnN0gVg2/view?pli=1)
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I was just thinking .... Natasha arriving back to Clan Wolf AFTER their command structure has been gutted in the fighting on Camlann could be quite interesting. If she's not accepted back with open arms due to those who know about her and her mission being dead or in disrepute, then things could get very intriguing. The Smoke Jaguars are looking to be holding on by their fingernails and might be facing absorption due to Shower's failures while the Falcons might have a possible civil war brewing. Throw in the Nova Cats being in rough shape as well, it's going to be a rough ride for some of the clans. I could see the Snow Ravens, Scorpions, and others pouncing on the home world enclaves of any clan appearing weak much sooner and more broadly this time around.
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And with the Smoke Jaguars disgraced by a) their clan losing, and b) having the ilKhan responsible for this debacle, the path is clear for Ulric to push his way into the hot seat with a clean slate....
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And with the Smoke Jaguars disgraced by a) their clan losing, and b) having the ilKhan responsible for this debacle, the path is clear for Ulric to push his way into the hot seat with a clean slate....
Ulric has to survive first. Hell, you may well end up with Natasha as their new ilKhan.
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Now THAT's an interesting possibility... ;D
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Now THAT's an interesting possibility... ;D
Alternatively, this could also be the story of Ace's rise to ilKhan status, showing the Clans, in theory, to be the ultimate meritocracy.
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That would ALSO be interesting! :)
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Perhaps at some point, but not at this point, he is too young and by his own admission he is still learning the politics.
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I was just thinking .... Natasha arriving back to Clan Wolf AFTER their command structure has been gutted in the fighting on Camlann could be quite interesting. If she's not accepted back with open arms due to those who know about her and her mission being dead or in disrepute, then things could get very intriguing.
The posting of the Clan's bids say the final Cluster for the Wolves was from the 13th Wolf Guards, which was a unit that didn't exist till Natasha formed it after returning to the Clan. So it sounds like Natasha made it back in time and kept or regained her Warrior status in Clan Wolf.
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The posting of the Clan's bids say the final Cluster for the Wolves was from the 13th Wolf Guards, which was a unit that didn't exist till Natasha formed it after returning to the Clan. So it sounds like Natasha made it back in time and kept or regained her Warrior status in Clan Wolf.
Nez, that's their trail by firs, I bet.
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I wonder if Phelan is part of the fighting. If so, there may be a slim chance of him getting captured by the ComGuards. Or better yet, KungsArme. Tyra and Phelan, reunited in a field hospital
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Opalescent Reflections
House of Cards
Chapter 10
Huntsvil, Camlann
Benjamin District, Draconis Combine
22 July 3051
The omnimechs of Delta Galaxy showed the evidence of heavy fighting as Ulric and their counterparts from Alpha Galaxy passed through trees of the swampy river valley and the ranks of the stalled Wolf advance.
In credit to Conal Ward, his exhausted Clusters had broken more than their own number, Ulric thought. Data intercepts suggested that the Twelfth and 103rd Level IV units of the ComGuards’ First Division had been expected to hold the Red Wolves back for a full day, but they’d been shattered in less than three hours.
Ulric saw eyes going to his Gargoyle as he moved forwards. Technicians had replaced the original skull-like face with a head unit copying the characteristics of Phelan’s old Wolfhound’s head, captured almost two years before. Not only was the full-head ejection system likely to preserve valuable warriors in the future (and the Khan liked to consider himself valuable), the additional storage and other creature comforts made it a more practical cockpit for long campaigns like this one.
Also it was the shape of a wolf’s head. Really, it was a shame that most Omnimech’s heads were too closely built into their torsos to make refits like this practical, but the redesign was being factored into new production of the Gargoyle back on Strana Mechty.
“I asked for a resupply of ammunition, not relief,” Conal protested, moving his Dire Wolf closer to Ulric’s Gargoyle. “In six more hours, we will be at the edge of Huntsvil.”
The Khan looked at the scarred armor of the assault ‘mech. If Conal’s mech was any example, it would take more than more missiles and autocannon rounds to bring Delta up to a state that fit for the fixed defenses the ComGuards had no doubt been setting up around the ruins of Huntsvil. They’d been bad enough around Colliervil without another two weeks to prepare.
“Where do you expect to get more munitions from?” he asked instead. “I told you when we landed that what you had would have to last.”
“I know Alpha and Gamma are not short,” Conal shot back.
“That is because my officers have enforced limited expenditures,” Ulric answered. “We started with the exact same issue that you did - and we have distributed everything that we have until the next shipment. If your magazines are dry then I suggest you have your ‘mechs re-equipped with lasers and PPCs.”
Ulric had seen the figures on Delta’s ammunition expenditure. He suspected that if he let them, Conal’s warriors would burn through everything remaining in the entire invasion force’s supplies in a single day… and for all the other Wolf’s hubris, that might not be enough to get through to Huntsvil.
Conal’s Dire Wolf didn’t point its guns at Ulric, but it sidestepped alongside his, keeping him generally in the field of fire. “We can give you Huntsvil, Ulric. I will fight a trial of possession for the ammunition.”
Ulric shook his head. Conal never learned. “Then I will bid Natasha Kerensky to defend the claim of less profligate units. And she still has ammunition to fight that trial, while you do not.”
That shut the most strident Crusader in among Clan Wolf down. There had been widespread expectation that the returning Wolf Dragoons would fail to pass the Trial of Positions required to regain warrior status, but Ulric had not believed it for a moment.
There had been one fatality, but the graying warriors had not only passed, they had proved crushingly effective, providing the Clan with four Star Commanders, two Star Captains and a Star Colonel to slot into the toman, with only one Dragoons failing to score more than one kill. Natasha’s four kill rampage, including polishing off Star Colonel Evon of the Nega Garrison Cluster had been noteworthy.
Fortunately for Conal they were talking privately, so he could back down with some grace. “Having the ammunition expended against me would be less than ideal. I withdraw my bid.”
“I understand the temptation, Conal. But your Red Wolves have won their share of glory,” Ulric offered in a pacifying tone. “If you re-equip your ‘mechs quickly then you may be in time to join the final assault.” A light went on, marking a priority message. “Now excuse me, Khan Radick wishes my attention.”
But when he accepted the call from Beta Galaxy, his saKhan was not the one who spoke.
“Ulric, we have a problem.” His sibkin Erik came right to the point. “Enemy reinforcements are swarming out of the hills to the north and west. I estimate three enemy brigades.”
The Khan pulled up the strategic map and frowned. Those hills were heavily wooded, native fauna having retaken the area in the centuries since the human population fled eastern Avalon. That had made them a potential risk for infiltration, which was why Beta Galaxy was screening them with the 341st and 352nd Assault Clusters - Garth had agreed to preserve the two units as a hammer to crack Huntsvil’s defenses once the other frontline units opened the road. But two Clusters would be outnumbered badly and if they got pushed back then the techs and the supply vehicles operating behind the advance would be exposed. Perhaps even the dropships at the lanxing zone. “How long can Radick hold them?”
“The Silver Keshik is gone,” Erik growled. “I saw a Kungsarme’ Atlas crush Radick’s cockpit with its battlefist. They picked the perfect moment. I have my Cluster clinging to some high ground with good fields of fire, but we’re running through our ammunition fast. Ramon is pulling his Cluster around for a counter-attack, but unless he can link up with me the freebirths will be able to pick us off one at a time.”
“I understand.” Ulric looked at the unit deployments. Delta was in shreds, whatever Conal claimed. Gamma was too far south. And Alpha was committed to the advance. “I can send one Cluster north to join forces with you.”
“Have them move fast,” his sibkin warned.
“I have just the fire-eater in mind,” he assured the Star Colonel. “Rest assured, the pack stands together.”
“Aff, always together,” Erik agreed and cut the channel.
Ulric took a deep breath and then contacted the commander of the one Cluster of Epsilon Galaxy that had been included in the bid to fight on Camlann. “Natasha, I have a mission for you.”
“It’s about damn time,” she answered from the cockpit of her own ‘mech. Ulric had managed to obtain one of the rare and prized Orion battlemechs in the Wolf touman for Natasha when he disbanded Nega garrison cluster and let her build her own Cluster around what remained of the unit and her Dragoons. So far the Thirteenth Wolf Spiders had not been blooded in battle, but this was the perfect opportunity.
“We have three brigades of the Kungsarme hitting Beta Galaxy from the north,” he expanded. “Khan Radick has been killed and the two assault clusters are separated and unable to link up for a counterattack. I need you to get up there, take charge and hold the line while we finish it.”
“I don’t do ‘holding the line’, Ulric.” Natasha laughed at the orders. “I’ll deal with them, but I’ll handle them my own way.”
“I have every faith in you,” Ulric assured her. “Erik Kerensky and Ramon Sender are both alive, but I believe you have seniority so take charge of the northern flank.” Natasha had been commanding a cluster before either of the other Star Colonels was even born.
“Trust me,” the redhead told him with a grin. “I’d do that anyway.”
Ulric wasn’t sure why that made him feel nervous for his sibkin, but there was no time for that now. He was already past the forward positions of Delta Galaxy and the first indications of ComGuards forces were appearing ahead of him. With a nod he cut off communications with Natasha.
He would need a new saKhan, he thought. Conal would no doubt want to appoint another Crusader, perhaps even try to claim the position for himself - although most likely not the latter. The two of them rubbed each other the wrong way and Conal wouldn’t want to put himself through that. He’d rather wait until he had a shot at rising directly to the senior Khan’s position.
Ulric’s lips twitched. Natasha’s four kills had already given her great status - no other warrior had managed that in a formal Trial of Position before. If she also saved Beta Galaxy then a case could be made for transferring her Thirteenth Wolf Guards cluster into the Galaxy and making her both the new saKhan and Galaxy Commander. She would hate that almost as much as the Crusader officers of Beta would.
A squadron of ComStar helicopters popped up from behind a hill, opening up on Ulric’s command group with light autocannon. While the damage was negligible, Ulric was sure that they were also reporting the advance of fresh Wolf warriors on Huntsvil.
Ulric snapshot at one with the autocannon in his arms. The cluster munitions were devastatingly effective against such light-weight targets and the ‘Warrior’ fell out of the sky with two of its counter-rotating rotor blades blown off.
Conscious of the need to conserve his ammunition, Ulric waited to see if the rest of his star had brought down their targets before firing just one autocannon at the survivor of the little squadron. It wasn’t quite enough to bring the helicopter down but it turned to flee and then a short flight of LRMs from Mot’s Timber Wolf blew it out of the sky - the mechwarrior had replaced the usual large launchers with smaller ones and fitted jump-jets with the tonnage freed up.
As Ulric and his command grouped moved forward, he stayed close to the Fourth Wolf Guards. He didn’t want to be caught isolated in the same way as poor Garth.
Ahead of them, ComGuard units that had been probing towards Delta fell back. They must be regrouping on their own defense line, he thought. If they had pressed harder the ComGuards could have taken advantage of the Red Wolves’ reduced state and inflicted serious casualties, but they had been too cautious and missed the possibility.
This is why they need us, Ulric thought. In the end, ComStar lacks the commitment that they need to be the Inner Sphere’s protectors. They can slow the Crusaders, even win a small reprieve. When the truce breaks down, it will fall to the Wardens to guard the Inner Sphere.
Zenith Point, Hachiman
Galedon Military District, Draconis Combine
28 July 3051
The jumpship chain that had carried Victor’s little force to Luthien had been improvised and the jumpships had then departed to support the collapsing defenses facing the Clans, so the only exit had been the original escape route, deeper into the Draconis Combine by way of uninhabited star systems.
They had made five jumps, taking them to Hachiman - a world that was little more than a name on a map to anyone in the Tenth Lyran Guards. Looking it up, the world was apparently known mostly as a minor industrial world - a source of electronics, but too distant from the borders to have been easily raided.
At least there was enough traffic that the thousands of civilians that had been straining the life support ever since they left Luthien could be taken off. The recharge station at Hachiman’s zenith point was no longer able to fulfill its original purpose of transferring power to jumpships, but it was at least still useful for transhipment. As the columns of men and women, many dressed in ways normally unthinkable for their high status, filed one at a time through airlocks, towing a single bag each behind them in the zero gravity.
Soon Omi would join that line. She had even less than most of her people - just her brother’s swords and a small satchel of necessities. Victor didn’t know when he’d see her again - or if he ever would. He’d accompanied her down to the airlock and now they hung against the wall, in companionable silence.
For the third time, Victor parted his lips to try to enquire about the future. It was more intimidating, in some ways, than the combat drop on Luthien. Before he could speak - or back down again - Kai descended into the ante-chamber by the airlock, followed by Chu-sa Kinnison. “Lady Kurita,” Kai said with a bow. “The station have sent a message, advising that your uncle has arrived “
“My uncle?” Omi exclaimed.
Victor frowned. So far as he could recall, both of Omi’s parents were only children. But she seemed pleased, if surprised.
The line through the airlock stalled, several people backing away to allow someone to enter the dropship. The man was middle aged, and grossly fat - buddha-like, Victor thought - with a completely bald head above his fine robes. Ponderously as he seemed to drift through the room, the new arriva;s eyes were quick to scan the room and then spot the little group waiting. “My dear!”
“Uncle Chandy!” Omi’s ladylike reserve dissolved into girlish delight and she kicked off from the wall to catch the man in a sudden embrace.
“Oh child!” the man exclaimed and returned the hug, looking solemn. “It has been too many years. And now to meet like this.”
Victor glanced at Kai and mouthed ‘uncle’?
Kai looked bemused, but Chu-sa Kinnison spotted the exchange and without changing his expression in the slightest, muttered: “Lord Chandrasekhar Kurita is a childhood friend of his distant cousin, the Coordinator’s father.”
“And you must be the fine samurai who rescued my dear niece,” Chandrasekhar continued, looking at Victor and Kai. “I am deeply indebted to you.” He tried to bow in mid-air and found himself drifting off the deck. “We all are… oh my… oh dear…” He didn’t seem alarmed at the fact he was beginning to spin over, more bemused at how to deal with the situation.
“Uncle,” Omi said with a resigned sigh and tried to help, but it took Victor and Kai stepping in to get the rotund man upright again. “Whatever brought you out here, uncle. And so fast?”
“I took a shuttle,” Chandrasekhar admitted. “Terrible experience. Truly dreadful, but these are hard times and it is nothing to what you and your brother are going through.”
Omi looked away and Victor reached out to take her hand, remembering himself at the last minute. He saw that the older Kurita had noticed the gesture and bit back resentment. Why should he feel ashamed at wanting to support a friend?
“I could have come to Hachiman,” Omi told them. “I know some of the technical staff will be going to work there. And who knows when I can go to New Samarkand with shipping in such a mess.”
“Well, not soon you see.” Chandrasekhar advised. “Much has changed since Prince Victor and his company departed to rescue you, and I understand that the Luthien HPG was prevented from spreading news.”
“What do you mean?”
The fat man clasped his hands together. “The Clans have been stopped, for now.”
“What?!” “Really?!” Victor realized he and Kai had spoken over each other.
Chandrasekhar gave them a jolly smile. “Yes, really. I am as surprised as you, but it appears that ComStar had finally had enough and decided to, well, to flex their muscles for once. A fearful sight, I am sure. And very unexpected.”
“What exactly happened, uncle?” Omi seemed confused. “I know ComStar’s forces are substantial, but scattered across the Inner Sphere. How could they stop the Clans?”
“A gamble, my dear. I am sure that the Clans would call it a trial or some such, but they staked terms on the outcome of a battle which sounds like betting to me. Of course, I am not a military man, but that is how I see it. The Clans were offered Terra if they won, but if defeated they had to agree not to advance past a certain line for fifteen years. There has been great celebration of the ComGuards’ victory.”
“The ComGuards defeated the Clans?” Victor asked. “I know they have reserves of SLDF hardware, but barely any of their troops have serious experience.”
“Ah, well. The ComGuards and the Kungsarme, to be precise,” Chandrasekhar conceded. “But the facts are the facts. The Clans have formally acknowledged their defeat and concluded their invasion. It does not release any of our worlds, but it is a badly needed respite.”
“Where is this line?” Kai asked.
“A direct line spinwards and anti-spinwards from Camlann. Safely corewards of my home here on Hachiman, and also of your homeworld, Prince Victor.”
“More than half the Combine is above that line,” Omi noticed bleakly.
“That is true. But many, many worlds are below the line and they are, for the most part, now safe. At least for now.” Chandrasekhar shook his head. “No amount of money can buy us time,” he added. “And for all the efforts of the DCMS, their valor did not buy us that time. Primus Rong and Precentor Martial Focht have achieved this and we must be grateful.”
“Must we?” the young woman asked. “If ComStar had acted sooner.”
Victor frowned and then reached over to put his hand on her shoulder. “Let’s be fair. If it was still Myndo Waterly leading ComStar, do you think they would have been helping us at all?”
“Now that would be hard to believe,” Kai added. “Who knows what the previous Primus would have decided the Word of Blake demanded that she do?”
“I believe,” Chandrasekhar observed mildly, “That it is unlikely she would have assisted the Federated Commonwealth, at the least. In any case, gratitude is what your brother asks of you, Omiko. He cannot leave New Samarkand at this time so he is appointing you to convey the Combine’s congratulations to the Primus on Terra.” He turned to Victor and Kai. “While I naturally cannot speak for your own families’ intentions, my understanding is that you will be returned to the Federated Commonwealth via Terra as well, so you may be asked to fill the same role.”
Victor nodded. Returning by way of Terra was a nicely neutral way to return home. Not the shortest, but he could imagine the furore that would result if a DCA jumpship arrived in the Draconis March to drop him off directly. It would be best if his next public appearance was somewhere neutral.
Chandrasekhar folded his hands across. “I am bold to ask this when I owe you much, Prince Victor. But I shall be impertinent and ask that you continue to extend your protection to my dear niece. Chu-sa Kinnison and much of his force is needed on New Samarkand - Minoru has been without his Otomo for quite long enough, so only a small detachment can be sent to Terra.”
Kai tilted his head. “I don't quite follow. I know sending a battalion of the Otomo’s infantry is a big deal - not that the raid seems all that big compared to whatever happened on Camlann -”
The Chu-sa raised one hand and gave Chandrasekhar a sour look. “The Otomo maintain only a single infantry battalion, Captain Allard. Without us, the Dragon’s security is in the hands of less carefully selected warriors. With Lady Kurita now out of the hands of the ‘Same’, we must return with all haste.”
Omi bowed formally. “I know that with you and your soldiers around him, my brother cannot be safer, Chu-sa.”
“I look forward to seeing you back safely on New Samarkand soon, Lady Omi,” he replied stiffly.
The elder of the two Kuritas turned to Kai. “I would further disagree that your raid on Luthien was less important, Duke Liao. While I will grant it was far smaller an occasion than ComStar’s gargantuan confrontation to Camlann, it is also unique in that it is the first time that the DCMS and the AFFC have fought together against the Clans. Both of the nations involved are new to the idea of being allied with each other, it may be the first occasion of such cooperation since the fall of the Star League. Frictions between us are not a possibility, they are an inevitability. There will be a temptation, now that the threat of the Clans is less immediate, to fall into old habits. My Lord Kurita believes we must not make that mistake, and close ties between our leaders will be absolutely critical to that.”
“Besides that,” Omi added. “I was running out of options to hide. The O-Same rarely repeated a mistake and he had already captured hundreds of those I was trying to bring with me.”
“We are judged by our enemies,” her uncle said comfortingly. “You may need to take a somewhat circuitous journey… back to New Samarkand.” There was barely a pause to suggest he had almost said ‘home’. “I believe that Lord Kurita hopes that you will be acceptable as an envoy to the Federated Commonwealth, Omi. For too long, the only image our neighbors have of us are of swords and battlemechs. We need to present a more human face now.”
“I… see.”
Victor looked at the roly-poly Kurita. “You’d probably do a good job of that, sir.” As much as more time with Omi sounded good… well, perhaps it was too good. And he knew she missed her brother.
Chandrasekhar laughed. “No one would take me seriously.” He leant forwards and confided. “I am a businessman.”
“Well, we are half-Lyran,” Victor pointed out.
“Yes, but I mean here,” the buddha-like man told him cheerfully. “No, all I can do for Lord Kurita is tend my garden, polish the pillar of jade a little and run the occasional errand like this. Although I’d really rather not.” His robes (and presumably the flesh beneath) jiggled as he shuddered, perhaps reminded of his shuttle ride to the station.
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Nadir Point, Vega
Dieron Military District, Draconis Combine
29 July 3051
“Primus.” There was a knock on the door of the small cabin Wei was occupying, waking her.
She wasn’t traveling in great state - the most convenient dropship to get back to Terra quickly was a liner carrying wounded ComGuards to hospitals on the homeworld suited to their long term care. She had the huge privilege of not sharing a cabin, but it made the relatively modest apartment hidden under Hilton Head look like the planetary governor of New Canton’s palace by contrast.
“I’m awake,” she mumbled and sat up,
The door opened, admitting Adept Serebryakov from the dropship’s comm crew, and also the bright light of the corridor. “Aah!” the young adept yelped, slamming the door. “Y-you’re…”
Wei looked down at herself. She didn’t appear to have been stabbed or anything. “What?”
Serebryakov opened the door quickly, darted in and slammed it behind her. “Primus, you’re topless,” she hissed.
She couldn’t help but laugh. “You didn’t ask if I was decent, Adept.” Pulling a blanket around herself, to protect the younger woman’s sensibilities, Wei sat crosslegged on the bunk. “So what can I do for you?” Alas, the blushing suggested that this wasn’t a seduction attempt.
“I-it’s a message from Precentor New Avalon.” Serebryakov produced a datapad. “It’s marked as urgent.”
“I wonder what he’s found at NAIS this time,” Wei muttered and accepted the pad, swiping her finger across the identification pad. It lit up immediately, highlighting a handful of files attached to the core message. Looking at the summary, Wei realized that this wasn’t what she’d expected. The message tags were for a political crisis, not a technological development.
Opening the main document, Wei read it.
Then, because it was very short, she read it again.
“Primus, why are you pinching yourself?” asked Serebryakov.
“I was hoping this was a nightmare,” Wei admitted. From the painful feeling on her arm where she’d pinched herself, it wasn’t.
‘Duchess Candace Liao and Intelligence Secretary Justin Xiang Allard assassinated in their New Avalon Residence,’ Joseph Buckley had written. ‘No official announcement has been made as yet, but a reliable source in the court reports that the assassin was shot during the attack. There is an unconfirmed but highly plausible report that claims the assassin has been identified as a Maskirova agent.’
“Dammit,” Wei murmured.
It wasn’t as if no one else had a motive to attack a head of state - much less the chief spy of the entire Federated Commonwealth. But Romano Liao would head any list of suspects. She was Candace’s sister, and the sisters had never forgiven each other for myriad offenses against each other… starting with the temerity for being born. When Candace defected to ally with the Federated Commonwealth at the end of the Fourth Succession War, leaving Romano as the only viable heir to the Capellan Confederation, the younger sister had condemned Candace to death in absentia.
“Ma’am?”
Wei let the blanket slip, ignoring the blushing of the adept and went to the small desk, pulling a light robe from where she’d hung it over the back of the chair. She dropped the datapad on top of the work she’d been looking at - decisions about how to deal with hundreds of captured Clan warriors. Unfortunately, exchanging them didn’t seem to be a possibility, which meant that some of the Clans had even larger numbers of ComGuards in captivity - particularly Clan Wolf.
And now there was this, she thought as she pulled the robe on and tied the silk sash that secured it. “What would ever make this a good idea!”
“Primus, is something wrong.”
Wei looked back at the adept. “I’m sorry. You haven’t brought me good news, Adept. But that’s hardly your fault.”
“Is there anything I can do to help,” the younger woman offered innocently.
“I appreciate the offer, but unless you can think of a way to keep the FedCom from invading the Capellans, probably not.”
Serebryakov’s eyes were wide? “Is Prince Victor getting married?” she asked.
Wei stared at her and then laughed. There was a certain logic to it - Hanse Davion’s marriage had begun an invasion, and that had been indirectly caused by a Maskirova operation against the Davion court. “No, I don’t think so. But either Romano Liao has grossly overestimated how far the AFFC is distracted fighting the Clans, or someone wants the Inner Sphere to believe she has.”
Assuming for the moment that it was the Chancellor of the Capellan Confederation who was behind this, had she anticipated that the ComGuards would fail to halt the Clans on Camlann. If so, the fall of Terra would have exposed the relatively narrow strip of worlds linking the two halves of the Federated Commonwealth to attack, demanding that significant forces be used to defend them. Or to move decisively to try to take Terra, which would probably be quite a temptation. In that case, it was at least somewhat possible that avenging the duchess and the secretary might not be the highest priority…
If, of course, you ignored little things like the fact that Justin Xiang Allard was one of Hanse Davion’s relatively few close friends. That the son of the two who had been killed was a close friend and subordinate to Victor Steiner-Davion, the heir to the entire Federated Commonwealth.
Or that while the interior, periphery borders and even the Draconis Combine borders had been stripped of troops to fight the Clans, the border with the Capellans had not been.
No one had really expected Romano Liao to contribute to the fight against the Clans. Wei had invited her to the conference on Terra for the sole reason of trying to impress on her that she would be best served by letting her enemies defeat the Clans before they came near the Confederation.
But apparently doing nothing was harder than that it seemed.
Wei wondered if she’d misread Thomas Marik so wildly as well. If he was part of this, if he was planning on also throwing his forces against the Federated Commonwealth then it might make some sort of military sense - something to ask Focht about.
But Wei doubted it. Marik’s son was receiving medical care by an international team, he was exporting huge quantities of military hardware and could expect the payments for them to be cut off immediately if he launched an unprovoked war against the Federated Commonwealth.
Even Thomas Calderon, a man who was obsessed with the idea that his nation was next on Hanse Davion’s target list, had recognised that with the Clans as a threat he had breathing room. (Granted, he’d used that to try to increase his readiness for a resumed Davion threat, but he hadn’t tried to provoke one).
“What happened?” the adept asked.
“It appears that the Maskirova have assassinated Candace Liao and her husband,” Wei observed. “Somehow I doubt that Hanse Davion will let that pass - and now he has fifteen years before the Clans resume their invasion.”
“But surely it would be insane for them to do that?” Serebryakov pointed out.
“It was insane for the House Lords to bring down the Star League three hundred years ago,” Wei told her. “Conventional definitions of sanity don’t appear to apply to the Great Houses. I will need to speak to Rachel Orchard, but if there is another war then there’s probably nothing I can do.”
“Well… if there’s nothing you can do, then…”
“I’m afraid,” Wei told her, “That there is nothing more stressful than things being beyond one’s control. It’s one reason war is hell, because only the mad think that they can control a war once it begins.”
Smoke Jaguar Landing Zone, Camlann
Benjamin District, Draconis Combine
29 July 3051
The darkness did not end at once.
Tyra gradually became aware that she was alive, that the way the pains came and went were the result of anesthetic being used and wearing off. The first conscious thought that she remembered after the ejection was seeing her legs under the bedding and relief that both were still there. Unlike her father’s.
Some time after that, she woke to a dim medical bay, lit only from the nurse’s station at the far end, barely visible out of the corner of her eyes. Her parachute must have deployed correctly she realized. Whatever had struck her, it hadn’t killed her either directly or by damaging the parachute’s cords.
Tyra tried to find some sort of call button but her arms seemed too heavy to lift. She tried to speak, but her throat was dry. And when she tried to lift or turn her head, it was fixed in place.
The effort exhausted her and she closed her eyes again.
When she opened them, the ward was lit and the voices she heard had the familiar tonalities of swedenese. They had won then, she thought. The Smoke Jaguars must have been defeated at last. She was in a Kungsarme field hospital.
Tyra wanted to laugh or cheer, but tears ran down her face. Someone tried talking to her but it seemed as if they were far far away. Something cold touched her right wrist and thoughts were brushed away as if by swabs of cotton wool.
Later again, she opened her eyes again and found herself strapped down, although at least her neck was no longer braced. She heard the distant thumm of a dropship’s engine and realized that she was aboard one. Where were they going? Back home to Gunzburg?
It took a moment for critical thinking to reboot and she concluded that it was unlikely. The Clans had been stopped, but there was nothing in the bargain that ComStar had struck that forced them to leave the worlds they were occupying. The young pilot felt a surge of anger at the fact that so many homes had been lost before the robes had been willing to take a stand. If they had fought sooner…
But at least they had stood now. Perhaps the dropship was simply consolidating the wounded to one place for easier treatment. From a field hospital to a permanent installation? The Combine would have little if any capability outside the military hospitals, but the latter existed and ComStar’s enclave on Camlann was both sizeable and a long way from the battlefields.
Something itched on her left wrist. Tyra lifted her right hand, scraping it across her to explore the source. There was something tied around her wrist. Some sort of cord.
It meant something, but she wasn’t sure what. It was important and she clawed at her inconsiderate memory. But exhaustion took her before she could find out what it was.
A nightmare.
Saber Cat unleashing hell on Gunzburg. Tyra hanging from a parachute, helpless as the fires consumed Stortalar City. Her father crawling, wheelchair tipped over behind him, asking where she had gone. Why hadn’t she been there.
Tyra jerked awake, gasping for breath, sweat against the hospital gown. Against the triple-braided cord around her arm.
Her breath rasped in and out, waiting for this new nightmare to end. Waiting to wake from this new torment.
“Ah, you are awake.” A doctor, voice clipped and precise in his english. His ethnicity was mixed, he could have been from anywhere.
Tyra raised her hand, ignoring the man. She studied the cord around her wrist. The mark of a bondsman. The mark that she had been captured… no. That she had enslaved.
“Take it off,” she demanded.
The man gave her a look that was not without sympathy. Then he shook his head. “No, Tyra. I cannot do that.”
“Take… it…” She managed to sit up, managed to get her fingers beneath the cord and try to wrench it off. There she failed, only managing to tear the skin of her fingers.
“Stop!” the doctor demanded. He grasped her hands and though he showed no sign of being particularly athletic, Tyra could not stop him from pulling her hands apart. “Do not do this, Tyra.”
“I won’t do this,” she snapped. “I won’t help them. I won’t!”
The man wrestled her right wrist into a plastic loop and then released her left hand to pull the loop close and pin Tyra’s right arm to the bed. She tried to get hold of the loop and release it with her left hand, but he caught her wrist again and soon that was secured as well.
“Tyra,” he said again. “Please. Rest and recover.”
“Rest and recover? She asked. “Do you have any idea…?”
“Some,” he said and tugged on his coat, showing the edges of a Smoke Jaguar badge on the sleeve. “It is not the end of your life.”
“I was over Rasalhague,” Tyra snarled. “I saw what your Clan did. You think I will help the Jaguars?”
The doctor looked at her. “I see. I…” Then he shook his head. “Let me tell you something that you may not have heard.”
“What are you talking about?”
He leant over and to her surprise, there was a sincere look to his smile. “Lincoln Osis is dead.”
“...really?”
The doctor pulled back and nodded. Then he winked. “Not officially,” he added. “Sometimes the warriors do not think that we talk to each other.”
“How?” Tyra asked him.
“Ah, well get some rest and take your medicine,” the man told her. “If you want to know, then I will tell you tomorrow. So no doing anything foolish for now. Remember, there is always hope.”
“Hope.” Tyra slumped against her pillows. “You think I will be a bondsmen.”
“You are a bondsman,” the doctor told her. “The question is what you do with it. You could have died or been crippled. Instead, you have a new chance. Do you want to throw it away?”
“I…”
He leant over again. “Think about it. You have some time. Do not do something you could regret.”
“If I am dead, I cannot regret anything.”
“No, but nor can you do anything else.”
-
3 July
Clans Ghost Bear, Jade Falcon, Nova Cat, Smoke Jaguar and Steel Viper make their landings on Camlann. It isn’t initially clear to the ComGuards command why Clans Diamond Shark and Wolf are not landing, or whether they have only been briefly delayed, so the forces assigned to their targets remain on stand-by. Two clans suffer significant set-backs during the landings.
Clan Smoke Jaguar’s aggressive attempt to take both targets at once, despite making the smallest bid overall, costs them heavily when Kungsarme aerospace fighters focus on Alpha Galaxy’s landing, leaving much of the Galaxy scattered as a result of dropships landing wherever they can or being shot down. Khan Kincaid Furey’s dropship is among those brought down, leaving him inside Fayettvil but almost alone, and ilKhan Leo Showers is isolated outside the city with a fragment of the Jaguar Grenadiers cluster.
Clan Nova Cat originally planned a massed air assault directly onto their first target. Under heavy pressure, it was decided to abandon that and thus Clan Nova Cat redirected their dropships to land west of their targets. Perhaps due to this change of plans, a handful of ComGuards fighters penetrated their formation and engaged the Mule-class dropship Midnight, one of two carrying additional supplies that the Nova Cats had concluded would be necessary based on their experience so far. The destruction of the Midnight cost the Clan more than twenty-percent of their munitions and spare parts.
4 July
Four of the five Clans to have landed begin to advance on their initial targets. After a feint towards Bentonvil, to suggest this was her intention, Khan Sarah Weaver takes her half of the Smoke Jaguar forces on a forced march to recover the scattered elements of Alpha Galaxy and hopefully take Fayettvil. Khan Furey is confirmed as alive but in hiding, after his Executioner was crippled fighting the garrison.
5 July
After more than a day of fighting, Clan Nova Cat’s warriors are running through supplies faster than even the revised worse case scenario. Khan Sevren Leroux is advised that at this rate unless they can take both targets within a week, it won’t be possible to continue fighting. Based on this, it is decided that they will aim only to take Gettysburk and focus from there on holding onto the objective.
Interrogation of captured Clan warriors reveals to the ComGuards that Clan Wolf and Clan Diamond Shark can be expected to land in another forty-eight hours. With Clan Steel Viper looking increasingly overstretched, it’s decided to employ the reserve of aerospace fighters to focus on them in the meantime.
6 July
Having recovered half of Alpha Galaxy and taken the pressure off the remainder, Khan Weaver leads a serious push on Fayettvil to try to recover Khan Furey, who is still hiding in the city. Exhausted and in need of repairs, the offensive reaches the edge of Fayettevil before reports that the 1st Kavelleri and 3rd Drakons have left Bentonvil and pose a threat to the Smoke Jaguar rear. Weaver breaks off the attack to regroup.
Clan Steel Viper is cut off from their landing zone by the ComGuards and begin frantic efforts to break out. As their dropships attempt to relocate to new positions accessible to the ground forces, all ComGuard aerospace assets are directed to prevent this.
7 July
Clan Wolf and Clan Diamond Shark begin their landings. Precentor Martial Focht makes the contentious decision to continue focusing reserves on destroying the Steel Vipers so the two Clans do not face overwhelming numbers during their landings. With the two Clans having bid the most forces for Camlann, they prove to have sufficient forces to make landing without serious losses.
Outside Fayettevil, Clan Smoke Jaguar have had the time to rearm and rest, with the result that the 1st Kavellrei and 3rd Drakons find themselves overwhelmed. They take heavy losses as the Fayettvil garrison attempts to link up with them only to run into repeated ambushes.
Clan Steel Viper give up on trying to break through the ComGuards lines after three near successes were stopped at heavy cost. Khan Natalie Breen elects to attempt to break contact and coordinate a recovery operation by her dropships, now down to only half the Steel Viper’s original strength on Camlann and having lost all access to their remaining supplies.
8 July
Clan Smoke Jaguar launches a renewed attack on Fayettevil. Due to concern that this may be a feint like that on 4 July, the remaining garrison at Bentonvil does not offer support.
Clan Diamond Shark begins a campaign focused on eliminating the nearest ComGuard positions rather than advancing directly towards Sandiego or Santababa. In contrast, Clan Wolf breaks through the initial defensive lines as they advance on Colliervil.
9 July
Clan Jade Falcon reach Sanhuan and agree to allow the remaining garrison evacuate, rather than have to fight street by street.
Clan Nova Cat begin to withdraw, judging that they no longer have the supplies to successfully take Gettysburk.
10 July
IlKhan Leo Showers is wounded trying to storm Fayettevil. After recovering Showers, Khan Weaver orders Clan Smoke Jaguar to withdraw, having taken losses of over 65% to their forces.
The ComGuards forces around Gettysburk launch a counterattack against Clan Nova Cat, believing the Clan are entirely out of supplies and that this presents the chance to shatter them similarly to Clan Steel Viper. This expectation is brutally proven false with four Level IV units shattered by a tight and coordinated Nova Cat response. While this actually exhausts the last Nova Cat munitions, the ComGuards losses deter any attempt to take further advantage.
11 July
Clan Nova Cat reaches their dropships and withdraw. Rather than attempt an interdiction of this, ComGuards aerospace reserves are focused on Sancisco where intelligence reports the Jade Falcons are preparing to launch an aerial attack across the strait.
Timur Malthus observes the ComGuards aerospace forces and concludes that the aerial support would be too hazardous - while the Falcons could be landed, any extraction in the face of defeat is not realistic so all forces committed might be lost. Malthus cancels the attack at the last moment, rather than potentially lose an entire galaxy on such a gamble.
12 July
Taking advantage of the focus over Sancisco, Clan Steel Viper manage to make contact with their dropships and extract their surviving forces. Less than one fifth of their initial force is recovered.
Clan Ghost Bear reach Chambersburk and take the city after a day of fierce streetfighting. The ComGuards withdraw from the city just thirty minutes before the defenders of Colliervil are also withdraw rather than see the remaining forces their encircled and cut off there.
Khan Elias Crichell begins taking steps to see Timur Malthus blamed in the event of a failure to take Sancisco. He is careful not to move directly in case he has to take charge and make an attempt himself.
13 July
Khan Natalie Breen of Clan Steel Viper resigns rather than face a challenge. SaKhan Perigard Zalman is confirmed as the new senior Khan, but debate over the new saKhan is prolonged.
ComGuards reinforcements reach Shippenburk and Sancisco.
Timur Malthus sends a supernova Trinary to try to map a route across the bottom of the Sanhuan strait for an underwater assault. The attempt is intercepted by a Level II unit of Neptune submersibles, who inflict four casualties. Combined with two fatal accidents in the attempt, Timur Malthus rules the possibility of crossing the strait in this way.
14 July
Khan Barbara Sennet addresses Clan Diamond Shark’s Clan Council and secures a vote to withdraw, seeing the overall battle as lost and unwilling to take further losses.
Clan Wolf, having regrouped for a full day, begin a push towards Huntsvil.
Galaxy Commander Christopher Ahmed is finally chosen as the new saKhan of Clan Steel Viper.
15 July
Clan Diamond Shark withdraws to their dropships. Given the casualties inflicted by Clan Nova Cat previously, ComGuard forces shadow the withdrawal but contest it only in the air. Losses overall are under 10% by either side in this theatre.
The Kungsarme are authorised to march south to join the fight for Huntsvil. Feeling that the loss of the city is not necessarily significant at this point, and not wanting to strip other cities in case Clans Diamond Shark, Smoke Jaguar or Nova Cat landed again, or Clan Ghost Bear and Clan Jade Falcon press further, the Precentor Martial refrains from sending further reinforcements.
16 July
Clan Chost Bear’s Clan Council convene and discuss options for taking Shippenburk. Having suffered 25% casualties to take Chambersburk, while inflicting 30% casualty rate, they conclude that with the ComGuards reinforcements bringing the defenders up to two divisions in strength that it is unclear who would win and losses would be near total for both sides. While this would be acceptable to achieve a win or even draw overall, without that possibility the Council concurs that they will limit activities to reconnaissance and skirmishing until the situation changes.
23 July
A vote of no confidence in Timur Malthus is called by Galaxy Commander Mar Helmer, with the vote solidly voting for the saKhan’s refusal. Malthus calls for a Trial of Refusal.
24 July
The Kungsarme’s remaining three brigades strike at Beta Galaxy’s two Clusters, north of Huntsvil. Reinforced by the 13th Wolf Guards, Beta Galaxy inflict over fifty percent casualties on the Kungsarme in six hours, though at a similar cost to their two original clusters and the death of saKhan Garth Radick.
Timur Malthus fights Galaxy Commander Mar Helmer in a trial of refusal over his removal from office as saKhan. Malthus is victorious, but mortally wounded.
With the Kungsarme counterattack contained, Clan Wolf take Huntsvil and Khan Ulric Kerensky reports to the ilKhan that Clan Wolf has achieved all objectives and consider the campaign concluded.
25 July
Timur Malthus dies in a medical bay six hours after the end of his Trial of Refusal. Galaxy Commander Vandervahn Chistu is named as the new saKhan.
Leo Showers formally contacts Precentor Martial Focht and concedes the battle for Camlann. It’s agreed that the four cities held by Clan Wolf, Jade Falcon and Ghost Bear will be retained until 8 August to allow the Clans to handle the administrative and logistical issues of withdrawing. An attempt by Focht to discuss exchanging prisoners is dismissed in strong terms by Showers.
A formal ceasefire takes effect at 23:11 standard time, bringing the Battle of Camlann to an end.
-
What is the status of Khan Furey?
-
What is the status of Khan Furey?
Given the Jaguars never took the city, and who was defending it? "Pining for the fjords" is my bet. "Remarkable cat, the Norwegian Blue"
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OTL the excuse for Refusal War was Ulric accepting Tukayyid trial, here it was Showers, so politicking will gt much more convoluted. Without Scorpion, I reckon that Clans will have to suffer Comstar enclaves within their territory for a bit more.
“I appreciate the offer, but unless you can think of a way to keep the FedCom from invading the Capellans, probably not.”
Serebryakov’s eyes were wide? “Is Prince Victor getting married?” she asked.
Beware of Davions getting married. Without Candace to moderate response, it will most certainly be a massive one, even if Sun Tzu launches a coup.
-
If the AFFS hit the Capellans this time, Comstar might not bother to interdict them. Cue the FedSuns rolling through the Confederation and then absorbing it as the St Ives March, then making Kai the March Lord.
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Beware of Davions getting married. Without Candace to moderate response, it will most certainly be a massive one, even if Sun Tzu launches a coup.
That´s assuming Candace is actually dead, unlike canon. They wouldn´t be telling ComStar she´s still alive - heck, they didn´t even tell Victor who was going to break the news to Kai!
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Tyra may yet reunite with Phelan... :rolleyes:
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This is getting interesting.
The building in of official lore with this is well done.
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Drakensis is a MASTER at that... :)
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Always plausible butterflies
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Opalescent Reflections
House of Cards
Chapter 11
Huntsvil, Camlann
Benjamin District, Draconis Combine
1 August 3051
Moving the remaining Clan forces back from Camlann would take time and there was a certain lethargy to the process. There was no hurry… and of course, it meant that the units were moving away from Terra.
In addition, the Grand Council was convening to discuss the important question of what to do now. Khan Ulric Kerensky had offered to host the gathering in Huntsvil, the ‘high water mark’ of Operation Revival. The second city to fall to Clan Wolf, the greatest success out of any Clan on Camlann.
Everyone knew that the Wolf Khan was showing off. But he had won. He was allowed, almost expected, to do so.
With jumpships arriving to ferry Diamond Shark clusters away, it had been relatively easy for Ace to travel from Luthien to Camlann. It was still eight jumps in as many days, bracketed by dropship voyages but it was possible. He was feeling the aftereffects and from what he had heard, once he was older he might find himself feeling that sort of thing in ways that would not be cured by a night’s sleep under more comfortable circumstances than a dropship’s bunk.
Ace didn’t stagger down the ramp from the dropship, but he definitely felt less than presentable and more in need of a drink and a bunk than of meeting Khan Sennet. Alas, the Clan was a demanding master and no sooner had he stepped aside to let a trinary from one of the Omega Galaxy clusters march their ‘mechs aboard, than he was found by the Khan, sat behind the wheel of a jeep.
“Get in,” she said.
Hiding a sigh, Ace walked over and tossed his bag into the back before climbing in next to Sennet. “I am - in.” The pause was because she’d thrown it into gear and slammed her foot on the throttle pedal, the little truck taking off like a startled Fire Moth. “Are we in a hurry?” he asked, grabbing for the seatbelt.
“We have less than two days before the Kurultai,” Sennet told him. “Fortunately, some of the other Clans were electing Khans or you would be too late.”
“If Clan Wolf had decided not to continue fighting alone, I would have also been late,” Ace pointed out.
“In that case we probably would not be having the Kurultai here.” The Khan took a corner with two wheels leaving the ground briefly. Ace wondered where she had learned to drive and concluded it was probably the combat vehicle basic training that he had missed by joining a sibko so late.
While Huntsvil itself was a wreck after centuries of neglect, and the buildings might still have toxic residues, the Clans had set up tents and pre-fab buildings in open areas. Clan Wolf had marked space for each of the seventeen Clans, leaving them with plenty of room to keep a safe distance. The ten Clans not participating in the invasion were set up in what had once been a zoological garden. There might be some irony to that, Ace wasn’t sure. What had once been broad paddocks for the larger animals were now marked by the comparatively tiny entourages.
The jeep made short work of what had once been avenues for visitors to walk down, reaching one of those compounds - one whose banners showed the familiar coiled totem of Clan Burrock. As Sennet parked the jeep, Ace was relieved to see no faces familiar from his previous experiences with the Clan.
An unarmored elemental emerged from one of a circle of prefabricated buildings. “Khan Sennet,” the woman declared in recognition, offering a salute. “Our Khans are waiting for you.”
“Then let us not keep them waiting.” Sennet dismounted and and returned the salute. Ace fell in behind her, leaving his bag in the jeep.
“Your aide?” the towering guard asked mildly.
“He has Burrock ancestry,” the Khan said, which wasn’t an answer but could be taken for one.
The two of them entered the building and found it furnished mostly with field gear, though a Burrock flag hung across one wall. Ace supposed it made sense - the Burrock Khans were traveling almost alone, having brought only a single jumpship, just enough to comply with the ilKhan’s requirement that all the Khans accompany the invasion, to cut down on the chances them leading their Clans against each other or against the homeworld enclaves of invaders.
Trials were still taking place in the homeworlds, of course, but keeping the Khans out of it was at least keeping the conflicts from growing too large.
“Welcome!” There were only two people inside, evidently the Khans. It was the woman who spoke - Jocelyn Siddiq.
Orrel Polcyzk, the saKhan didn’t offer any verbal greeting but he did fill four glasses from a bottle and offer them around. The man paused as he saw Ace though. “Enders?” he asked, a little sharply.
“Ace Enders,” he confirmed, bowing slightly. Perhaps Combine manners were rubbing off on him, Ace thought.
The Burrock frowned and shook his head dismissively, handing over the glass anyway before returning to one of the chairs. “You would not have brought him along as an insult,” he told Sennet. “What are you after?”
“Do not be so grumpy,” Siddiq chided him. “Sennet is just showing off her wares. Unfortunately, we do not have the forces I would want to bid for possession of the young Enders. But he is a credit to his bloodhouse.”
Polcyzk chuckled, somewhat reluctantly. “Well, you have good taste in battlemechs, Galaxy Commander. I use a Stormcrow myself. I do not think there is a better battlemech in any Clan.”
“The scientists keep developing designs,” the Burrock woman disagreed. “The Stormcrow is a fine ‘mech, but there are others. I like what I have heard of your new Mongrel omnimechs,” she added, turning back to Sennet. “We may take some off you.”
“Trade or trial,” Sennet replied crisply. “Whichever you choose, we will meet you.”
Siddiq took her own seat and the visitors followed suite. “But that is not why you are here,” she concluded. “We all know Leo Showers’ time as ilKhan is over and I do not think you are here to speak for him.”
A slightly derisive smile crossed Sennet’s lips and she shook her head, then lifted the glass and took a sip. Her eyes widened appreciatively. “This is new.”
“A local gain,” Polcyzk noted. “They make it from peaches - a fruit I do not know. I think it may not have made the transition to our homeworlds.”
Ace sipped from his own glass and found it to be sweeter than he preferred. And strong. Still, he was a guest.
“Alright,” Siddiq noted. “Do you want the ilKhan’s throne, Barbara? I do not pretend I am a contender myself, but that is not the same thing as casting my vote for it.”
Sennet drank again. “Who says that we need an ilKhan?”
“The truce aside, we are still at war,” warned Polcyzk.
“How much use was Leo Showers?” Ace asked him.
“Hmm.” The saKhan rubbed his brow and then drained half his glass. “Leading the grand council is no small feat. Without him, there might be no invasion.” He exhaled slowly. “Well, we need not decide now.”
“With Revival over, we can bring more forces in,” Sennet told the Burrocks. “The bidding no longer binds us, and it is clear the bids were all too small.” She was insulated from fault in that, since she had not been Khan at the time. “We must expand our presence quickly, to take a secure hold of our new domain or it will be taken from us.”
“By the Smoke Jaguars?”
Ace shook his head. The question had been expected. “The Draconis Combine is not broken. I expect raids and if they manage to gather the forces, they will try to take worlds back from us.”
Sennet drained her glass. “We are in a better position than some of the invaders, but to provide satisfactory garrisons we will need to draw heavily on the homeworlds. Not just for warriors, we are also drawing experienced civilian leaders away to lead the new governments. We are using bondsmen but that is proving more problematic than it is for those who are already Clansmen. It will be a generation - not a warrior’s generation, I mean decades - before they adjust to the way of the Clans, so we cannot rely on them alone.”
Ace winced at the reminder of the situation on Luthien. The bondsmen responsible for the infiltration had been executed, but it didn’t solve the basic problem that most bondsmen had family loyalties and the Combine was willing to use those in ways that he’d not considered. And Omiko Kurita’s departure had not slowed the resistance down at all - if anything, reports suggested that they were getting worse.
“I think I see where you are going with this,” Siddiq observed. She smiled slyly. “You cannot stretch to control so many worlds here and also your enclaves in the homeworlds.”
“Not now,” Sennet admitted frankly. “We are expanding our manpower, but it will take time.”
Siddiq’s smile broadened. “And you know that we already contract troops to help the Cloud Cobras to control the Tanite worlds, in exchange for a share of their resources.”
Ace frowned. He wasn’t entirely sure what the Tanite worlds even were.
“The idea has crossed my mind,” Sennet agreed. “But not quite what I am thinking.”
The Burrock Khan sat back and held out her glass to Polcyzk for a refill. “That is a shame, I would like access to the resources here. Perhaps I can convince you.”
“Perhaps.” Sennet set down her glass. “My Clan has evidence that Clan Burrocks Khans have been dealing with the Dark Caste.”
Polcyzk dropped the bottle, which didn’t shatter but did spill half the contents on the floor. Siddiq swore, but not because of the peach brandy. “That would be treason,” she protested. “We would never do that!”
Sennet’s smile was toothy. “My saKhan and various others have the evidence, in case you are feeling tempted to have an accident happen.”
“When you say evidence…” Polcyzk observed slowly, “What are you talking about? You must have misinterpreted something - I do not accuse you of fabricating it of course.” Then he turned and looked at Ace. “Well, perhaps not you, Khan Sennet.”
Ace shrugged. “I had no part in the investigation.”
“But you were the loose string we pulled followed to find evidence,” Sennet continued. “Shipments. Information leaks. This is nothing new, Khan Siddiq. I cannot pin it to you specifically, but it has been going on for far too long for the Khans not to be aware of this. This is not individuals, this is a continuing policy going back to…” She paused. “Well, I would not be surprised if a little more digging took us right back to the founding of the Clans.”
Siddiq’s geniality slipped away. “You know what the Grand Council will demand if you bring them that evidence.”
“That is part of my calculations.”
“Then why not do that?” demanded Polcyzk. “Why come to us?” His eyes narrowed. “Are you trying to bluff some sort of confession out of us?”
Sennet produced a datapad. “A sample.”
Siddiq accepted it and started checking, while her fellow Khan glared at the two of them. “You did not answer me, Sennet. Why are the two of you here. You could take this directly to the Grand Council and we would be lucky to walk out alive.”
“How would that profit Clan Diamond Shark?” the dark-skinned Khan asked curiously.
Polcyzk scowled at her. “Diamond Sharks! Should I be glad that you aren’t taking that datapad to the Blood Spirits.”
“That assumes they would even talk to us,” pointed out Ace drily. Clan Blood Spirit was deeply isolationist. There were only two other Clans they had regular contact with. Their Khans hadn’t even attended the Grand Council for years before the invasion. “And what could they offer us?”
“For the chance to destroy our Clan?” asked the Burrock, sarcastically.
Sennet shook her head. “Clan Blood Spirit is in no position to give us what we need.”
Siddiq threw the datapad over to Ace. “I did not even know all of this,” she admitted. “I have been trying to cut off these ties. This is not something that my Clan needs any more. I told you it was a dagger at our throat, Orrel.”
Polcyzk grunted unhappily. “I did not disagree.”
“Alright.” The Burrock Khan gave Ace and Barbara an icy look. “So you now hold that dagger. Are you going to drive it in? Or is this where you make demands?”
Barbara Sennet met that icy anger with a warm smile. “When the Grand Council meets in two days, this information will be presented to them. If I tried to hide it, then it would simply implicate us as conspirators. I do not want to pass my eventual successors the problem that you inherited, Jocelyn.”
“So what does that leave us?”
And then the Khan of the Diamond Sharks leant back and steepled her fingers. “Let us make a deal…”
Hilton Head, North America
Terra, Sol System
2 August 3051
Wei would have preferred a more informal venue after her trip back from Camlann, but that would have been disrespectful under the circumstances.
As the First Circuit gathered, holographic displays in front of each window was scrolling through lists of names, casting shadows across the chamber and the Precentors. Few of the men and women looked easy as the names continued to roll and roll, a macabre list of the dead and wounded.
“In summary,” Wei informed them, “Precentor Martial Focht believes that we can bring six divisions back from Camlann, although it will be some months. He believes at least one should remain to oversee salvage and recovery efforts until the end of the year - and bringing one back to guard the solar system is just good sense. The exact deployment of the other four will be open to discussion - most likely in the form of Level III deployments to our larger enclaves.”
“Do we have an estimate for how long it will take to rebuild the rest of our strength?” Joe Murphy asked. His posting of Tharkad was below the line marked by Camlann, but not by much.
Wei spread her hands helplessly. “Three to five years, assuming we can fund the recruitment, the training and purchasing of supplies. If we do not fund them, perhaps longer. There is at least a case to suggest that our previous strength will have alarmed the Great Houses. But at the same time, we needed that strength badly upon Camlann. Only four cities fell, but it could have been eight and then we would be relocating our headquarters and most likely you would have been voting on my replacement now.”
There were close to a hundred thousand names on the casualty list. Enough people to populate a city had been killed in less than a month. Wei Rong had thought, after her studies of the Second Succession War, that she was ready for that. But what she had read then had been distant statistics, less immediate than what had happened on Camlann.
She sighed heavily. “And moving along from Camlann, there are the events around St Ives. Precentor Mu, if you would be so good as to brief everyone.”
Elswick Cameron took over the podium and control of the central display, which he set first to display Duchess Candace Liao and her husband. “For those unfamiliar, on the twenty-eighth of last month an operative planted within the St Ives embassy on New Avalon entered the royal apartments and opened fire on Duchess Liao and Secretary Allard with a high powered laser pistol. The two were in bed at the time, and according to the official releases both were mortally wounded. One or the other lived long enough to shoot back, killing the assassin outright. It is possible that the Duchess slept with a sidearm at hand, but currently we believe Secretary Allard used the laser known to be built into his prosthetic. Emergency services responded and all three were pronounced dead at the embassy’s medical wing.”
The display switched to a starchart mapping out the St Ives Compact - a C-shape of seventeen olive coloured stars surrounded on one side by the gold of the Federated Commonwealth and on the other by the green of the Capellan Confederation. “Under any circumstances, suspicion would fall on Chancellor Liao. She had a long-standing feud with the Duchess even before the Compact’s secession, and of course Secretary Allard’s actions as a double agent contributed massively to the Capellans’s defeat in the Fourth Succession War. Both have been marked for death repeatedly.”
One of the green stars next to the Compact began to flash. “In this case, we believe the obvious source of the assassin is accurate with the specific motivation lying here. Gei-Fu’s planetary government has rebelled against the Confederation and appealed to join the St Ives Compact. Whether or not Duchess Liao would have accepted is now a moot point, the possibility would most likely have been sufficient.”
Joe Buckley cleared his throat. “While it’s hard to say what the Fox is thinking at any point, I find it hard to believe he would risk the Lyran Commonwealth for one world even if Candace Liao requested it. However, with the current truce and the Capellan March’s defenses largely intact, he may have the opportunity to act.”
Cameron switched the display again, this time portraying a handsome young man of asiatic descent. “With his mother’s death, Kai Allard-Liao is now duke of St Ives. Currently he is a Hauptmann in the Tenth Lyran Guards, traveling to Terra with Prince Victor Steiner-Davion and Lady Omiko Kurita. Expedited HPG communications to his waypoints have allowed him to be informed of the attack and messages have been explained discussing the options available to the young duke.”
Precentor Sian shifted awkwardly, “What options is he offering? I know that the CCAF is moving one of the Warrior Houses to put down the rebellion on Gei-Fu.”
“The First Prince does not appear to support a military response,” Cameron continued, “Although he did say that an operation was underway. However, when Duke Allard pressed for military action, Davion conceded. In the short term, the AFFC will support the defenses of the Compact, while a regiment of the St Ives Armored Cavalry is being mobilized to support the rebels on Gei-Fu. A command circuit is being prepared to carry the new duke to St Ives immediately when he arrives at our jump point.”
“I cannot say that I’m surprised,” Wei noted. “So I suppose that I will only be meeting with Omiko Kurita and Victor Steiner-Davion.”
“It is possible one of his sisters will substitute for him,” Precentor St Ives offered. Trent Hone had spent much of his career on the world, working his way up the HPG command chain. He’d been deputy head of the station when his superior died in 3046 and Wei had been happy to keep him on. “They’re young, and they’ve spent much of their lives on New Avalon. It would be a way for the duke to raise their profile in his realm.”
“We’ll deal with that if it happens,” Wei decided.
“What do we do if the war widens?” asked Orchard. “It’s all very well if this is settled with just one world, but both sides have a vote. And if the Free Worlds League gets involved…”
Wei pointed to the displays at the windows. “What do you think we can do, Rachel? We have no military options in that area right now. If we find anything to suggest that this is someone else’s work, then we can release that information but for now all we can do is look to the security of our enclaves in the area. We can add that to the priorities for sending the ComGuards once they have recovered sufficiently but that is weeks away and I believe that rebuilding our garrison here on Terra takes priority.”
There were nods from the predictable faces, the precentors who generally supported Tiger Lily when it came to putting Terra above all other priorities.
Cameron cleared his throat. “While there’s been no definite decision so far by leadership, our expectation is that if Allard-Liao decides to attack further targets then it is likely the New Sagan salient will be prioritized. The five worlds are broadly in the same area as Gei-Fu and two of the worlds are industrially significant. Cutting the salient would also shorten the Capellan border, which would likely be supported by the Capellan March and Sarna March. We don’t believe that it’s realistic to see a push for Sian or even for Capella while the bulk of the AFFC is still orienting towards the Clans. Most probably, Hanse Davion will simply transfer the contracts of mercenary regiments in the Capellan March to bulk up St Ives while house regiments simply remain on the border as a threat that the Chancellor has to honor.”
“I don’t think anyone here will weep for Romano Liao,” Joe Buckley concluded. “Did anything else come out of these messages?”
“Not relevant to the St Ives situation,” Cameron told him. “In the broader sense, we’ve had confirmation that Lady Kurita has been given credentials as an ambassador-at-large to the Federated Commonwealth. It appears she’ll be going back to New Avalon with Prince Victor.”
“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Buckley admitted. “If they quarrel, it’ll be bad for the alliance, if they get along too well then the Draconis March will be in flames.”
“I suppose I will have a chance to check their chemistry in person,” Wei noted. “Who thought that dynastic politics was a good idea?”
“James McKenna,” someone shot back and Wei had to admit that it was a good answer. The first Dictator… uh, Director-General of the Terran Hegemony hadn’t founded the neo-feudal order that now dominated the Inner Sphere but he’d certainly made it possible when it became clear that his successor would have to be a relative.
-
Huntsvil, Camlann
Benjamin District, Draconis Combine
3 August 3051
The building had been built in an antique style by the Star League, and it was structurally sound even after centuries. A half-circle of tiered seating faced a stage, intended for performances of some kind, and Ulric had set workers to cleaning it thoroughly to rid it of any residue of the weapons unleashed here by House Kurita and House Stiener. It was impossible to say if they were completely clear, but it was safe enough to use today.
Banners had been laid out marking pairs of seats for the Khans, electronics had been placed to record the kurultai and to allow them to display data as needed. And most importantly, the great window of armor glass looking out on the city had been cleaned. Despite a few cracks it let the Khans look out at the ruined city of Huntsvil, with Clan Wolf’s banners flying above it. It was a poignant reminder of the ruin that war brought and that Ulric’s Clan had triumphed over those challenges.
A single seat was placed on the stage and Leo Showers marched up to take his place there, doing his best to seem confident even though it must have been entirely clear to him that his reign was down to its last hours, perhaps minutes.
“I convene this Grand Council and I note to you that we are still under the Martial Code handed down by Nicholas Kerensky. We are at war, and we shall conduct our business as befits that circumstance.”
“Are we at war?” Ulric asked silkily. “The terms that this Council agreed to bind us for fifteen years.”
It was Elias Crichell who rose to the accusation. “We are at war, Khan Kerensky. Operation Revival is over, but even if we cannot approach Terra for fifteen years, fighting above the Camlann line continues.”
“We should renounce the agreement,” Christopher Ahmed proposed. The new saKhan of Clan Steel Viper looked around. “We are so close to Terra!”
“I don’t think you’re a good judge of how easy it is to fight the Inner Sphere,” Natasha Kerensky shot Ahmed down from where she sat next to Ulric. Her casual speech left the other Khans bristling, but there were a few barks of laughter as well. Promoted from Alpha Galaxy, which had not participated in fighting on Camlann, Ahmed lacked any experience at all in Revival.
“The vote to approve the battle here was a large majority,” Karl Bourjon added. “Any Trial of Refusal would face long odds. Five to one, before any bidding to see who defends the Council’s decision.
There was a long silence as everyone looked around, wondering if anyone felt that they were willing to take that risk. Ulric was fairly sure that the ten homeworld Clans had no reason to back such a measure since it didn’t benefit him. Any Trial of Refusal would come from an invading Clan… most of whom were bleeding and battered by the fighting here.
“IlKhan Showers,” he said when no one seemed likely to speak up. “You oversaw the invasion so far and you oversaw the planning for what we faced on Camlann.” Such as there had been. “By my reckoning, that makes you responsible for the outcome.”
Showers stood slowly, deliberately. However angry he was, he did not let it show. “It is rare for us to agree, Khan Kerensky. But we have always had a strong idea of where the other was aiming. Let me cut short your arguments: I was elected ilKhan with a mandate to oversee the invasion. While Khan Crichell is correct that the war is not over, the invasion has been placed on hold for fifteen years. It is not reasonable for me to cling to this office in anticipation of that happy day. I therefore offer my immediate resignation.”
There were sudden intakes of air. Ulric was also surprised. He had thought that the ilKhan would fight to hold onto his position.
“A new direction is needed,” Showers continued. “And it is the duty of the Grand Council to provide the ilKhan with that purpose for them to pursue. I recommend that you find such a goal before again electing a new leader.”
Soberly, the Smoke Jaguar walked away from his throne, leaving the chamber without looking left or right. His back was straight, his face confident.
Ulric hid a grimace. By standing down, Showers had been cannier than usual. He had not waited to be burdened by responsibility for the defeats, and by stepping away now he left the opening to return in the future if he found another cause to rally the Clans to. He could, after all, argue that as a former ilKhan he had rare experience in directing multi-Clan campaigns - and a Council quarreling over what to do now might rally to even a deposed leader if he came back with a compelling purpose for them.
Natasha laughed again. “Well that was easier than I was expecting. Maybe he was just dodging out on the work.”
He gave her a dry look but then reconsidered. Maybe she had a point. Much of what the Grand Council dealt with now would be contentious and there would likely be hurt feelings and feuds. By absenting himself now, Showers would be outside of that, an edge not shared by the sitting Khans would would likely be rivals for claiming the ilKhan’s throne in the future. “Perhaps.”
Barbara Sennet rose. “I must bring a matter before the Grand Council.”
“What’s this about?” Natasha muttered.
“Manpower, I believe.” Ulric knew that Clan Wolf wasn’t the only one reaching for new warriors. Phelan was only one of scores of bondsmen who had been groomed for admission to the warrior caste - the most prestigious, but not the only one. The losses on Camlann had been the final argument to convince the Clan Council to approve giving them their trials of position as soon as possible. “They will need to pull units from the homeworlds and may want some kind of assurance that they can do so. I doubt they will get it.”
“Doesn’t seem likely.” the old woman agreed cynically as the Council fell silent.
Barbara Sennet walked up onto the stage, where only Kael Pershaw remained after Showers had left. She passed a datapad to the loremaster and then folded her hands behind her. “I accuse Clan Burrock of long term collaboration with the Dark Caste,” she said flatly. “We have evidence that previous Khans of the Clan have given bandits information, supplies and even weapons in order to direct them against other Clans.”
Ulric leant forwards sharply, gripping the arms of his chair, barely biting back a shocked explanation.
The Dark Caste weren’t a serious threat to the Clans, but they were also essentially the only external threat they’d faced until now - and of course, by definition the bandits had chosen to reject Kerensky’s new society.
“Treason!” shouted Karianna Schmitt. The Khan of the Blood Spirits rose to her feet. “The Burrocks have always been the scum of the Clans and now their perfidy is made apparent.”
“You have not even seen the evidence yet,” Elias Crichell noted sardonically.
Christopher Ahmed stroked his beard. “I doubt Khan Sennet would present evidence if she was not sure.”
Ulric frowned. Perigard Zalman and the previous Steel Viper Khan, Natalie Breen, had despised the Diamond Sharks - particularly given the Shark’s part in blocking them from joining the invasion - but he knew Ahmed had been talking to Barbara Sennet. Both Clans would need to replace substantial losses - now and sharing resources might make that easier. Ulric doubted that it would occur to Sennet to hold a grudge if there were benefits to her Clan.
Jocelyn Siddiq rose to her feet, curiously calm given the accusations. If anything, she seemed almost relieved. “I cannot attest to exactly what data Khan Sennet is providing, but the facts of what she has described are accurate”
Natasha whistled. “Ballsy.”
“You just admit your crimes?” Schmitt exclaimed.
Siddiq shrugged. “As Khan Sennet said, previous Khans. I have never participated in such deals and never will. But I am aware that some of my predecessors did so. Since the evidence is now being presented what point is there in denying it. Instead I can only point out that these are crimes of men and women now dead and that under my leadership, the Burrocks have abandoned such practises.”
“All well and good,” Cassius N’Buta rumbled. The Khan of Clan Star Adder shoot his head. “But that does not change the fact that these crimes were committed. For how many years - how many generations - have our clans been targeted by bandits serving the interests of your Clans? There can be no pardoning of such a persistent failure to adhere to the Way of the Clans.”
“I call agree,” the Khan of Clan Coyote said in a weak voice. Robin Steele looked like hell - her health was said to be poor, but so far she was clinging tenaciously to life, to office and to warrior status. “I…”
“Clan Diamond Shark calls for the Absorption of Clan Burrock,” Barbara Sennet spoke across Steele. “Since they have admitted their guilt, there is no need for evidence to be examined - though it is open to all of you.”
Kael Pershaw looked around the room. “Khan Sennet calls for Absorption. Does anyone wish to delay the vote.”
Ulric frowned and then shook his head. This was unprecedentedly fast, but as she said, with guilt admitted the only question was whether the crime merited it… and the Burrocks had no real allies. Their long history of being flexible in seeking short-term advantage had never really served them well.
“Very well.” The almost-crippled Jade Falcon raised his hand. “The absorption of a Clan is no small thing. I remind you that if even one Khan outside of Clan Burrock opposes the measure then it will fail.”
“I’m almost tempted to,” Natasha confided. “Blaming the whole Clan is too much. It can’t have been that many of them, or someone would have figured this out sooner.”
“Don’t do that,” Ulric told her. “If the Burrocks had dealt with this themselves, you might have a point but even those like Siddiq who knew about it just tried to hide the truth. No one will trust them in the future.”
“No one trusted them anyway.”
“Besides,” he continued. “Two less Crusader votes. They’ve been consistent about that for twenty years.”
The redhead considered that and shrugged. “You’re the boss. Don’t blame me if this blows up on you.”
Each Khan stood in turn as they were called to vote. Natasha and Ulric both voted for absorption and as vote after vote was cast, no one spoke up for the Burrocks. Only Orrel Polcyzk and Jocelyn Siddiq opposed, and everyone knew the outcome before Kael Pershaw made it official. “By a vote of thirty-two to two, the Absorption is confirmed.”
“Loremaster,” Polcyzk said formally, “We call for a Trial of Refusal, as is our right.”
“That is indeed your right.”
And how could any Clan accept their own dissolution, Ulric thought. This would always be the result - the Widowmakers had fought, Clan Mongoose had fought and inevitably so would the Burrocks. Would they win? Well, it was always possible. After all, no Clan could muster the preposterous seventeen-to-one numerical advantage that the vote allowed. Indeed, bidding would inevitably mean that the Clan chosen to fight for the right to absorb the Burrocks would be using a smaller force.
“How strong are the Burrocks?” Natasha asked.
“Seven Galaxies,” replied Ulric as Kael Pershaw invited bids for the honor of defending the Council’s decision - and the lure of absorbing the Burrocks’ territory. While the Burrocks only had enclaves on five worlds besides Strana Mechty, they were quite wealthy holdings - compact and easily secured by the modest touman.
Natasha tsked. “A bit of a large bite from the invaders,” she allowed.
At least she saw that without any promoting, Ulric thought. Really it came down to which of the ten other Clans felt they could risk it. Even in victory they would take significant losses, so it would be necessary to offset with their gains. It would almost be amusing if the Blood Spirits won the bidding, since their hatred for the Burrocsk would probably make the entire matter self-destructive.
The Fire Mandrills, Snow Ravens and Cloud Cobras all elected not to bid at all. That left six Clans with bids, all having offered forces approximating the Burrocks full touman. The Hell’s Horses and Goliath Scorpions pulled out as bidding dropped below six galaxies, and then the Ice Hellions elected not to continue in the following round.
For a moment there was a pause as Cassius N’Buta and Karianna Schmitt gauged each other’s commitment - neither seemed to take Robin Steele seriously as a contender.
“I also wish to bid,” a quiet voice cut through the silence.
Ulric turned in surprise, seeing Barbara Sennet was the speaker. What was she thinking - it was theoretically possible for her to make a bid in this range but the Diamond Sharks were already stretched. She would be leaving her enclaves almost unguarded in the homeworlds and most of the forces she had available were garrison units.
“You offered no bid before,” objected Steele.
“Nor did I state I was withdrawing from bidding,” Sennet told her. “If you assumed that my Clan would not, given our other commitments, that was an error. Understandable, perhaps, but an error nonetheless.”
“Khan Sennet is in order,” Pershaw admitted. He indicated the holographic displays marking out the three bids that had been offered. “Please submit your bid now.” The three constellations of colored stars marking the current contenders split, opening room for another bid to appear between those of the Coyotes and the Star Adders.
Sennet touched a control, sending the data directly to the holo projector.
For a moment, Ulric thought that the file had not loaded. That nothing had changed. And then he saw it, one small red star in the middle of that space. Where the others were bidding clusters and trinaries, Sennet’s bid was absurdly tiny.
“Khan Sennet,” the old Jade Falcon asked, “This is an error, quiaff?”
The Diamond Shark smiled and Ulric knew that a trap had closed. “Neg. I bid Alpha Galaxy’s Twenty-First Assault Cluster’s Alpha Trinary, Alpha Star’s First Point: Galaxy Commander Ace Enders.”
Karianna Schmitt slammed her fists against the arms of her chair. “You cannot be serious! You are making a mockery of this?”
Natasha snickered. “I don’t know what Sennet is doing but…”
“She has cut a deal,” Ulric agreed.
“Enders is good, but he can’t fight an entire Clan.”
If the Burrocks send an entire Clan against one warrior they would look weak, Ulric thought. It would suggest that they felt they needed that advantage. If Sennet just wanted Enders dead there are easier ways, and why give the Burrocks an out…? Besides Enders is here in the Inner Sphere and there are only a few dozen Burrocks here. “He does not have to,” he answered out loud.
“Are you trying to let the treacherous Burrocks escape justice?” demanded Schmitt.
Sennet looked at the Blood Spirit and feigned surprise. “If I wanted that, Khan Schmitt, I could have simply not presented evidence of their crimes. I am bidding for right to absorb Clan Burrock.”
Robin Steele coughed. “One warrior is ridiculous,” she objected.
“Clan Wolf bid a single bondsman - not even a warrior - to conquer Gunzburg.”
All eyes went to Ulric and he feigned indifference. “Phelan Wolf has been welcomed into Clan Wolf as a warrior, but he was a bondsman at the time. We would be fools to refuse a warrior who can take a world single-handed, quiaff?”
“Does it matter how low I bid,” Sennet asked rhetorically. “I have confidence that my bid is sufficient. The lowest bid must win - currently that is me. Do you wish to bid lower?”
Cassius N’Buta shook his head. “Neg,” he said flatly and sat down. After a moment, Robin Steele did the same without further comment.
Only Karianna Schmitt still stood, trembling in rage. “You are supposed to champion the Council’s decision, not subvert it! This is not a valid bid.”
“I have every intention of absorbing Clan Burrock,” Sennet told her. “Bidding below cutdown has always been acceptable if you have the confidence.”
After a moment, Schmitt turned on her heel and marched out of the room, slamming the door behind her. All eyes went to Daryl Keller, the other Blood Spirit Khan.
“We withdraw from bidding,” he said flatly and then rose to his feet. “Since Leo Showers is no longer ilKhan, his dictate that all Khans must be present for the invasion is no longer in effect and we are free to depart.” The door slammed again behind him.
Kael Pershaw struck his desk with a gavel. “Clan Diamond Shark wins the bidding to Absorb Clan Burrock, with a bid of… one battlemech point.”
Jocelyn Siddiq stood. “A Khan must be responsible for their Clan’s deeds. Khan Polcyzk and I will personally fight to Refuse the Absorption and we choose to fight tomorrow - a circle ten kilometers in diameter, equally placed between Huntsvil and Colliervil. I am sure Khan Kerensky will not object.”
Ulric folded his arms. He’d pushed to host the Kurultai and by tradition that did make him responsible for overseeing any trials fought during it. “I will have a circle of equals marked, if the Council is willing to accept me as oathmaster for this trial.” If there was any irregularity, he wanted the chance to observe it personally - absorbing the Burrocks essentially intact would give the Diamond Sharks the largest touman - they might be able to field as many as fifteen galaxies!
“Keep your head down,” Natasha warned. “Enders likes PPCs and you remember what happened to the Founder.”
-
Ah, so we have the Diamond Sharks pulling a Phelan Kell move. :D
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The Blood Spirits are bound to have an explosive temper tantrum, but with Khans in IS and trial beingdone in a day it will likely be less destructive than OTL. However, given how troublesome Burrocks ultimately proved for Adders, in long term this might prove a poisoned chalice for Sharks, though they will probably do some things differently and chance to go to the promised land of Inner Sphere might mollify many of them, but I reckon Ace's yandere will be one of the leading lights of discontent amongst the absorbed Burrocks.
Ulric was also surprised.
That makes two of us
You’re the boss. Don’t blame me if this blows up on you.”
How nice of Natasha to restrain herself from doing ''I told you so'' song and dance.
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James McKenna was indeed a good answer... it seems the Primus is rubbing off on the rest of the First Circuit... :D
I'm really wondering how much of a fight the Burrocks are going to put up...
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None, their khans will find some way to lose honorably to Ace, and then the Sharks will employ the Absorption-then-split off trick the Falcons used after the Refusal War, with maybe Ace as the new Burrock Khan but subordinate to the Sharks.
This bolsters their manpower and doesn't cripple eithe side, preserving their strength to garrison both the homeworlds and the IS.
However, as in OTL, I suspect the Blood Spirits will have their say.
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And does the Society get a say?
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And does the Society get a say?
Only one, yes
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I find myself wondering if the Sharks take it a step farther, and when they release the Burrocks, they become the Home Clan Diamond Burrocks with all the holdings there while Clan Diamond Shark becomes the Inner Sphere realm. With the Diamond Sharks becoming more of a leading clan in their military successes with the Invasion, I wonder what happens when the Clan Snow Raven's creation of the Diamond Shark comes to light in this timeline. So many interesting wrinkles to come.
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The Snow Raven Khan involved gave himself away when the change of name was first proposed in 2985.
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Opalescent Reflections
House of Cards
Chapter 12
Huntsvil, Camlann
Benjamin District, Draconis Combine
4 August 3051
It had amazed Tyra to be allowed out of bed so soon. However, the doctor assured her that she had mostly recovered and that it was more important for her to engage in moderate physical activity, even if her neck would need to remain braced for a week or two.
Silly her, she had assumed that this would be some kind of in-patient rehab.
“Bondswoman Tyra,” the clerk observed boredly, checking a status sheet. “Suited for light duties… bond-holder…” He shook his head. “General labor pool then.”
Tyra stood at something like parade rest. “And if I refuse to work for Clan Smoke Jaguar?”
The woman didn’t even look up. “Do you think you are the first to ask that? Your bond-holder could do anything they wanted but since they died in the fighting it defaults to caste discipline.” She looked up at Tyra. “No work, no food. Of course, in your medical condition that might have long term consequences. Do you really want to follow that route, quineg?”
“How many have?”
The woman looked down at her paperwork. “I could not tell you. Perhaps here in the luxury of the Inner Sphere you are used to layabouts being supported but that is not the case among the Clans.” She pointed over at a bench built into the wall. “Sit over there. If you are still unwilling to work by dinner time, you will be taken to somewhere you can starve quietly.”
“Why keep me if that’s all your Clan expects. You don’t have enough people to sweep floors?”
“Bondswoman, you are Clan Smoke Jaguar’s now. In what universe does anyone give up what is theirs? Much less to an enemy?” The clerk looked up, irritated now. “Records say that you are a pilot. With modest retraining you could serve as a technician maintaining or operating cargo aircraft or something similar. It is less expense to spend time making you trustworthy than to train someone from the beginning.”
Tyra would have laughed at that if it wasn’t so ridiculous. “I’m a fighter pilot, better than some of you Jaguars.”
“You were.” The woman stood. “Now you are a bondsman and Clan Smoke Jaguar does not trust freeborn with weapons. Now sit down or accept your assignment.” She slapped her desk and the papers there. “You are not the only person I must deal with today.”
Reflecting that right now she probably couldn’t overpower even this woman, much less back-up that could no doubt be called up, Tyra turned and walked to the bench. She sat on the hard surface, leant her head against the wall and considered her options, watching as a succession of men and women walked in, turning in assignments and being given new ones.
It all seemed innocuous, nothing really that she hadn’t seen being done at a dozen bases. The difference was mainly that rather than uniformed soldiers carrying out the work these were civilians - civilians and bondsmen wearing cords that marked them out. Were they Kungsarme? ComGuards? Few of them even looked at her, and save for the cords there seemed little between them.
Wasn’t it their duty to fight back? Wasn’t it hers? How could the daughter of the Iron Jarl bow to a conqueror, a tyrant?
Except, her father had.
All reports made it clear that Gunzburg had surrendered without a shot fired. To Clan Wolf, not Clan Smoke Jaguar, but all the same…
Draconis Ronin hadn’t beaten Tor Miraborg. Nor had Lyran mercenaries. But the Clans had… somehow.
How much did she even know about them? Tyra clenched her fists. They had burned Reykjavik. But the doctor had also seemed glad that the one who ordered it was dead. Aside from second-hand briefings based on information from the Wolf Dragoons almost all her contact with the Clans was through the crosshairs of her Shilone.
Not that she had a Shilone anymore. Or much of anything.
Everything Tyra had access to now was from her captors - her flightsuit and gear had been taken and it didn’t seem likely she’d get it back. What keepsakes she had left were back at the airbase and had probably been given to General Mansdottir by now. They might even believe she was dead.
What was left to her?
Tyra hung her head as far as she could with her neck trapped in the brace. Could she escape? She knew she had been moved from the Smoke Jaguar’s original landing zone to Huntsvil, one of the targets of Clan Wolf. She knew that that Clan had succeeded but that there had been enough failures that Camlann was safe and the Clans would eventually withdraw back to Orestes, Gunzburg and the scores of other worlds - hundreds of other worlds - that they had conquered.
Could she escape? Capture a vehicle - she would need one to reach friendly lines. The Midland Sea region being almost entirely uninhabited meant that she would have no real chance of local help.
And as much as she hated to admit it, even to herself, the neckbrace wasn’t the only reminder of her injury. Tyra wasn’t sure she had the stamina for days or weeks hiking. Particularly if she needed to carry supplies for that.
No, she would need time to recover. And by that point, she suspected she would not be on Camlann any more.
Which… might not be the worst thing. On another occupied world, chances are that she could find someone willing to help her get away from the Smoke Jaguars. There had to be resistance groups and her military training would be of some use.
But she couldn’t do that if she was starving, which meant…
Tyra went over the problem several times. Survival and escape, versus pride.
When the clerk took a break and began eating her lunch, hunger tipped the balance. Tyra waited for the woman to finish before pushing herself upright and walking to the desk.
The clerk looked up at her, not even slightly excited? “Well?”
“What do you want me to do?”
Checking her desk, the woman rifled through a stack of documents before finding the one she wanted. “This should be within your capabilities. Go to medical bay four and report to Star Captain Trent. He’s confined to bed so he will need someone to fetch and carry. The medical staff may also have requests for you, but the Star Captain takes priority.”
Tyra cursed inwardly. “Alright.” She was pretty sure she could find her way.
“And Bondswoman?” The clerk stamped the document and started scribbling on it. “Watch your language. We speak proper English and your superiors need not stop at verbally correcting whatever slurring comes out of your mouth.”
The pilot’s shoulders tightened at the reminder - not so much of the language issue but at her vulnerability. She wasn’t an officer, much less the daughter of a Valdherre. She was just property in their eyes. Little more than an animal.
The chill did not desert Tyra as she returned to the medical bays. Bay four was signposted clearly and it didn’t take her long to find it - one of a line of private recovery rooms. The door was slightly ajar and she heard a woman laugh. “Apparently, the battle damaged your memory as well as your body, Trent. If you ever get access to my reports of the incident, you will see that it was I who saved you.”
Tyra froze and then pressed herself against the wall. Whatever was going on in there, she doubted either side would appreciate a bondsman as a witness.
A second voice - the Star Captain she had been assigned to? - answered: “Benjamin Howell warned me that politics was another form of war. It strikes me that someone who falsifies battle reports is better at politics than they are at combat.”
“If you want something else to strike you, you can call for a trial of grievance,” the woman told him. “And we will see who is the better warrior there. Both of our ‘mechs are gone so there are no BattleROMs. Your word versus mine and we both know you are in no condition to challenge me.”
So much for the honor of Clan warriors, Tyra thought.
“I will not always be confined to this bed,” the man warned ominously. “I have known you since our days in the sibko. I know the truth and we were both taught that knowledge is a powerful weapon.”
“We were also taught that the victor receives the spoils. I have a list of victories over Rasalhague mechwarriors to offset our defeat here on Camlann, you have a catalog of wounds that mark you as one of those whose weakness led to our failure,” the woman crowed. “There is a bloodright open in the Howell bloodline and I have received nomination for it. By the time you are fit to pilot a ‘mech again, you will be challenging a bloodnamed warrior.”
Tyra almost burst in at the mention of her dead comrades, hating the woman for the boast. But that would just end her life. If she wanted justice for them, she would need to wait.
“Either that or you will be dead,” the man snapped. “Victory in a trial of bloodright is never assured, and no one will let you alter the records to claim a victory you have not earned.”
The door slammed open and Tyra had a brief impression of a tall, dusky woman before she was shoved off her feet and crashed against the other wall, slipping down it to sit facing the wall.
Apparently caring nothing for Tyra now that she had been pushed away, the warrior stormed out, leaving Tyra to pull herself upright. Her elbows and the back of her head hurt but it seemed not to be so bad. Nonetheless, she took a moment to check carefully for any bleeding. The last thing she needed was another concussion.
Finding no blood and reasonably confident she wasn’t showing any of the other symptoms of such, Tyra forced herself to enter the open door. At least the warrior in there was unlikely to be able to assault her.
There was, unsurprisingly, only one occupant now. The man who lay on the medical bed was covered as much by bandages as he was by skin or a thin hospital gown. Like every Clan Warrior that Tyra had met so far, he had an athletic build, but his lower face was a thing of horror. Flesh had been seared away from his jaw and throat, what remained covered with synth-skin that was far from a full reconstruction.
Despite herself, Tyra could only compare this to the scar that decorated her father’s face. This was far worse. On the other hand, she reminded herself, this Star Captain would be able to walk again.
“Who are you?” the man asked curiously.
“K…” She remembered her rank no longer mattered. “A bondswoman. I am told you need someone to fetch and carry.”
“Ah.” He raised his arm - a mechanical one - and moved the fingers slowly and deliberately. “Well, I have few needs at the moment, but it is… considerate for someone to be assigned. Close the door, please.”
Tyra obeyed, noting the last word. She hadn’t expected the courtesy.
“Manners cost me nothing,” he told her, apparently noticing her surprise. “And those who mistake it for weakness have paid the price. Thus far, at least. I am Star Captain Trent. Do you have a name, bondswoman?”
“Aff,” she said shortly.
He waited a moment and then what was left of his lips curled into a scowl. “Like that then. Tell me your name.”
“Tyra.”
That got her a nod from Trent. “You were with the Kungsarme?”
“Aff.”
“What was your duty there?”
“Pilot.”
“You are tall for the role. How much did you hear earlier?”
“Most of -” She cut off, realizing it was a trap.
Trent nodded quietly. “I thought as much. Jez’s carelessness already almost killed her. I will not save her when it endangers her again. I have little ability to protect you if she notices that you learn, and if you cause me problems then I will have no motive to do so. Am I clear?”
“Aff.”
The Star Captain shrugged. “Turn on the holovid,” he said. “And then you may as well sit down. Perhaps there will be something to take both our minds off the sorry state of our lives.”
Confused, Tyra found the controls and a little projector lit up, displaying a list of options in the air not far from the bottom of Trent’s bed.
He frowned. “Trial of Absorption?! What has been happening while I was unconscious?”
Tyra had no idea what that even was, but took the hint to select the designated option and the display shifted to split-screens showing three ‘mechs standing at the ready, two side by side and the third clearly some distance from the pair.
Huntsvil, Camlann
Benjamin District, Draconis Combine
4 August 3051
The cockpit of the Huntsman sat higher off the ground than Ace was accustomed to. The ‘mech was also brand new, whereas the omnimechs he’d used before had always been older than he was. He’d only had a day to get used to it, but at least he hadn’t had to wait for it to be configured.
The senior member of the Diamond Shark’s merchant caste present on Camlann had made a little ceremony of presenting the Huntsman to Ace. The first production shipment had arrived just in time to be assigned to warriors on Camlann, but this one had been held back specifically to be shipped to him on Luthien. Since he was now here, the merchant saw no reason to wait.
“Clan Diamond Shark recognises the valor of the warriors who fought to protect our right to the Huntsman,” Ace had been told. “Every mechwarrior who fought in that trial will be offered a Huntsman for their use in recognition of that victory.”
It reminded Ace of the Nova he’d used earlier in his career. The upright stature took some getting used to, but it had the same level of agility and protection. Not quite as much as he’d been able to enjoy with a Stormcrow, but not bad. There was also a little more payload, and the ‘mech was loaded with additional electronics and a small pulse laser, as well as his usual paired PPCs and the anti-missile system. The laser would be useful against infantry and Ace appreciated the gesture, even if it wouldn’t be much use to him in this particular Trial.
“I expected you to use a Stormcrow,” Orrel Polcyzk observed as the two sides moved into position on the circle of equals. They were out of direct line of sight - and ten kilometers apart - but until the trial actually began they could view each other on the public holovid channel that was broadcasting to those interested in Huntsvil. It was possible that even some of the ComGuards might be watching, gathering intelligence.
Ace settled back a little into his seat. “I am sorry to deny you the chance to find out who is the better Stormcrow pilot,” he offered graciously. “But we must take the opportunity to show off one of Clan Diamond Shark’s newest products for potential customers.” He was at least half-convinced that was why he hadn’t been given a spare Stormcrow for the occasion.
“It will be a poor advertisement when I kill you,” Polcyzk warned. “I appreciate the honor your Khan shows in giving us a chance to fight on favorable terms, but make no mistake: we intend to win.”
“I would be a fool to imagine that you intend anything else,” Ace confirmed. Two to one odds were a bit much, particularly as he wasn’t sure if the two Khans would honor zellbrigen and engage him one at a time, or if they would operate as a pair. He had to assume the latter, particularly given the stakes.
Both the Burrocks were in larger ‘mechs than he was. Polcyzk’s Stormcrow was loaded for short and medium range combat, a powerful autocannon in the left arm and a cluster of medium lasers in the other. He wouldn’t be able to use his full armament without overheating severely, but either limb had enough firepower to wreck the Huntsman in short order.
Jocelyn Siddiq had elected to use a Mad Dog instead, fitting missiles either side of the torso and lasers in the arms. The left side of her omnimech was fitted for long range battle, with LRMs and a pair of extended range large lasers, while the other mounted SRMs and a trio of pulse lasers.
I am outgunned, Ace thought. But neither of them has jump jets. On open ground, Polcyzk might be able to use his speed to keep me from staying out of range of him, but we are not fighting on open ground.
The midpoint between Huntersvil and Colliervil had the ruins of a small town, some of which fell inside the designated circle. A river cutting through the town occupied a gorge, which had been bridged in three places but no longer was, and local trees had had over a century to grow back. None were as large as a ‘mech but they would at least slow one down.
“Today we witness the Trial of Refusal called by Orrel Polcyzk against the motion to absorb Clan Burrock,” Ulric Kerensky announced. The public channel cut off, meaning that Ace could no longer see the other two ‘mechs. “Galaxy Commander Ace Enders defends the decision of the Grand Council and should he defeat the two Khans, Clan Burrock must surrender all its enclaves, warriors and other resources to Clan Diamond Shark. Should Khans Siddiq and Polcyzk prevail then Clan Burrock will stand reprieved of the Absorption. Do all participants swear to abide by this rede?”
“Seyla,” Ace confirmed. He heard both Khans say the same.
“As the oathmaster I recognise your oaths,” the Wolf Khan declared. “The trial begins, you may now exit the starting positions.”
Ace needed no further hint and started the Huntsman forward, angling to his right and into the city. He didn’t particularly want to run into either Burrock in the streets, but neither should have any experience of urban combat so there might be some advantages to him there that they wouldn’t expect.
If they could kill him, they would. The Khans wanted their Clan to survive. Wanted the option Sennet had offered - enclaves in the Inner Sphere where at least some of Clan Burrock could survive even when the other Clans turned on them (because even winning this Trial of Refusal wouldn't make their sins evaporate, so excuses would be found). That would serve Clan Diamond Shark almost as well as an absorption, but Ace was not going to settle for an outcome that would probably kill him.
The Huntsman loped forwards steadily, Ace adjusting the electronic options available to him. The electronic counter-measures wouldn’t make it possible for him to hide, as such, but they would make it harder to lock onto him with weapons. In particular, the tracking abilities of Khan Siddiq’s weapons should be greatly reduced.
More useful as he entered the town, the active probe swept the area and gave him a more detailed idea of what he was dealing with than he had expected. The sophisticated sensors and computers worked to build a picture of what might be lurking around every corner.
Most of the buildings were simple residences and had fallen into disrepair. Ace ignored them and moved up into the core of the town, looking for industrial or commercial structures that were more solidly built. He kept one eye on his map - much of the settlement was outside the notional circle of equals and if he was judged to have exited then that would be an immediate victory for Clan Burrock.
Striding down long-abandoned streets, long since stripped by looters, Ace dismissed a multi-storey carpark that lay just outside the edge of the circle. Another possibility, some sort of warehouse, was dismissed when his sensors showed that it couldn’t support the weight of his Huntsman.
Finally, he found what appeared to have been a school. Half the building had collapsed long ago but the active probe reported that the remainder had solid structural supports that should still be able to support his ‘mech. Ace fired his jump jets, pleased to find that they responded just a hair faster than those of his Stormcrow - an advantage of being newer perhaps? Or just that they were part of the chassis rather than pod mounted? He suspected the former, since he’d not noticed a similar difference between the Stormcrow and the Nova, which also had integral jump jets.
Perched on top of the school, Ace crouched the Huntsman and scanned what he could see of the area. A circle ten kilometers across was a large area, but ‘mechs weren’t exactly small. Combined with his elevation, Ace hoped to at least be able to spot signs of the two Burrocks.
Of course, that same elevation also made it relatively easy to see him. Ace’s sensors pinged a ‘mech’s location to him just an instant before the computer warned him of inbound missiles.
He backpedaled the Huntsman and dropped off the back of the school, using his jump-jets to control the fall. The anti-missile system spun to life, throwing packets of flechettes into the path of the missiles as the electronic counter-missiles fought to confuse the warheads’ sensors.
In the end, the combined effect of both systems and of the building itself reduced the missiles that got through to a tiny handful. Armor was still chipped away as those missiles struck home - first blood to Clan Burrock - but Ace was more focused on an interesting detail.
The ‘mech his sensors had spotted was not Siddiq’s Mad Dog. Her missiles had come from another direction.
Looking at the map, Ace moved through the streets and tried to get inside their heads. He had to assume that they were at least communicating with each other. They would have to assume he knew roughly where the senior of the two Khans was, simply by backtracking the missiles, but did they know he’d detected Polcyzk?
If they did not, then they might expect him to move up and try to take out the Mad Dog first. He would certainly benefit by taking one of them out early on, and destroying the Mad Dog would leave Ace with a range advantage over the Stormcrow.
If that was what they expected him to do… Ace eyed the best route towards where he’d seen the missiles come from. He’d be crossing the gorge, and that might leave him open to being ambushed.
The close confines of the gorge would deprive him of what advantages he had against Polcyzk, which could only climb down into it in a few places. They didn’t expect him to have a Huntsman, but if they expected a Stormcrow then they would know he had jump-jets and…
Ace smirked. The best place to jump across the gorge and avoid entering it at all was very close to where his sensors had picked up the Stormcrow. And if Polcyzk was trying to ambush him there…
Pushing the Huntsman as fast as it would go, Ace headed for the ruins of the nearest bridge across the gorge. It would be trickier to cross there without using his jump jets, but if he could manage it then he’d be across without making himself an obvious target and perhaps be able to catch the other mechwarrior offguard.
Reaching the bridge, Ace eyed the collapsed roadway. It had broken at an angle, each side forming a ramp down into the gorge. Years of erosion had damaged them but he was fairly sure he’d be able to walk down one and then up the other. It would take a little care, but…
An alarmed bleep gave him a fraction of a second to respond before the Stormcrow emerged from the shadow of a building overlooking the bridge.
Slamming both feet down, Ace fired his jump jets, sending the little ‘mech skittering sideways just ahead of the furious beams of the six lasers in the Stormcrow’s right arm. The one that connected carved a trench into his own ‘mech’s left arm.
Ace fired both PPCs, aiming for the left shoulder, but Polcyzk twisted aside and only one of the particle beams hit home. It tore apart the armor of the joint, but it wasn’t a crippling blow and the arm came up, tracking Ace’s mech.
He was well within the range bracket of the autocannon. Ace flung the Huntsman forward, deliberately tripping the ‘mech on the edge of the bridge. He was inverted in the cockpit as the fifty-ton mech slid face first down the fallen bridge, weaker rear armor exposed. However, the Burrock hadn’t anticipated the move and the stream of depleted uranium shells from his autocannon cut through the air above and behind the Huntsman.
Ace mis-judged the slide and the vertical fin jutting up above the Huntsman’s shoulders took the brunt of the slide coming to an end. He kicked off with one of the ‘mech’s legs and rolled it over and onto the other slope as Polcyzk tried to finish him off with his lasers - firing them in sequence to try to manage the heat burden he’d be unleashing. No doubt he would fire the autocannon as soon as the next clip of rounds loaded.
Throwing up both arms of the Huntsman, Ace fired both PPCs up and into the chin of the Stormcrow.
Twin beams of energized particles bit up into the ventral surface and dug up at an angle. Intimately familiar with the design, Ace knew that the beams were digging up and into the shielding of the fusion reactor. The blossoming heat signature showed he’d hit it at least once.
Polcyzk cut off his lasers, marking that he likely couldn’t risk the heat burden of them now. But the autocannon was tracking in and with the mess of damage to the Huntsman’s shoulders by the laser fire, it’d be more than enough.
Ace opened the jump-jets up and the Huntsman rocketed up the slope, cannoning into the Stormcrow’s underside as it stood at the top of the impromptu ramp.
The slightly heavier ‘mech was thrown backwards as the Diamond Shark was rocked against his restraints by the collision. The impact left both ‘mechs sprawled on their backs, what was left of the Huntsman’s fin between the Stormcrow’s broad feet.
Both PPCs were already up and aimed more or less at the other ‘mech, Ace triggered them one after the other.
His left shot hit the joint between the left arm and torso, tearing the shoulder apart. Autocannon rounds detonated as the ammo feed broke, safety mechanisms venting the cascade of explosions down and throwing the Stormcrow up off the ground briefly.
As it came down, Ace’s second shot speared into the damage caused by two other hits to the underside of the torso.
Reactor containment gave up, and the Stormcrow disappeared in a blaze of superheated air. The explosion slammed into Ace’s cockpit and the armorglass cracked. He blacked out briefly, vision hazy even when he opened his eyes again. He knew he had only been stunned for a moment, the heat of the ‘mech from the rapid salvos had not yet faded significantly.
On animal instinct, Ace scrabbled the Huntsman back onto the broken bridge and slid down, getting out of view in case Siddiq had arrived to finish him off. The ‘mech slid down, doing more damage to his rear armor, but landed more or less upright at the bottom of the gorge.
He opened his microphone, tried to speak and only coughed.
“Say again, Galaxy Commander?” Ulric Kerensky’s voice was faint, the channel full of static. “Do you wish to concede?”
Ace shook his head, then recalled that this was only a voice channel. “Neg. Khan Polcyzk appears to have been defeated, I did not see if he ejected?”
There was a disdainful note to Kerensky’s response: “Both Burrock Khans elected to disable their ejection seats, Galaxy Commander. You have succeeded in killing him.”
Ace closed his eyes for a moment. “Unfortunate,” he said at last and started the Huntsman down the gorge, heading back away from the town. He supposed that the pair felt obligated not to survive if defeated - taking full accountability for their predecessors’ crimes and for losing the trial.
Assuming, of course, that they failed.
Taking stock, Ace saw that armor across the top and the back of the Huntsman was in poor condition. Worse, the crushing impact against the fin had damaged his long range sensors. The active probe gave him excellent close range capability, but above what was middling range for his PPCs, he’d have to eyeball his shots.
“Perhaps so,” the Wolf Khan allowed in a more neutral tone and cut the channel.
-
Stalking along the gorge, Ace found one of the side ravines that allowed him to climb out without using his jump-jets and used it. The heat signature of jumping out might catch Siddiq’s attention and if she caught him at long range she had most of her LRMs left.
The first problem was finding the Khan’s Mad Dog. He’d emerged into the trees, not all that far from his best guess as to where Siddiq had fired on him from. It was unlikely that she was still there, but it was at least a starting point.
Ace tried to sidle his Huntsman through the trees, trying to avoid knocking too many of them over to give his location away. It was difficult, particularly getting used to a relatively humanoid ‘mech, taking him back to lessons on his mother’s Griffin, but after a while the knack came back to him and he was threading through the trees.
After several minutes, he found obvious traces of a ‘mech moving through the trees with much less care. Dropping the Huntsman to one knee, he scanned the ground and wasn’t surprised to find footprints left by a Mad Dog. It wasn’t hard to recognise once you were looking for them - every single Clan used the Mad Dog and a surprising number built it. Ace had done some training on it in the sibko and while he didn’t like it much, he was certainly capable of recognising its footprints.
Moving into the trail - he couldn’t knock over trees that had already been brushed aside, Ace started trotting after the larger ‘mech, keeping one eye on his sensors. He could be reasonably sure Siddiq was ahead of him… but how far ahead? And had she looped back?
It might be paranoid, but he’d been caught once in a trap already. If the khan had laid the trail deliberately, she might have then broken off and found an ambush spot overlooking it.
Ace was extremely glad for his active probe when it spotted a problem before he did.
Siddiq wasn’t waiting in ambush… well, not the way he’d speculated.
The active probe determined that someone (no prizes for guessing who) had laid a minefield across the trail. At least some of Siddiq’s LRMs must be Thunder LRMs - each salvo of which was a field deployed minefield. Walking into this wouldn’t have taken out his Huntsman, but it would have added more damage and it would be obvious, letting her know where Ace was.
What she would do then, Ace wasn’t sure. Perhaps she would simply accept the damage as one more step towards his eventual defeat and continue some other strategy, or perhaps she was waiting somewhere out of sight ready to engage while he was distracted by the mines.
If it was the former, there was nothing Ace could do about it. He considered avoiding the mines and continuing, but there was every chance that this too would lead him into another ambush. Better to spring this one and see if it presented any opportunities.
The Huntsman had no hands, since each arm ended in a PPC muzzle. However, it wasn’t entirely impossible to use them as crude manipulators, using each arm as one half of a claw. Thus, Ace managed to wrench one tree out of the ground and heaved it into the minefield.
The tree wasn’t close to the weight of a ‘mech, but Thunder LRMs had relatively simple sensors and a full ton of wood was enough to set some off. Explosions tore the tree bark to splinters.
Almost immediately, a salvo of LRMs arced up above the treetops to plunge down onto the explosions. Though fired blindly, aimed for the location rather than having a lock, they came in precisely onto the tree’s location and close enough to Ace that the Huntsman’s antimissile system triggered, wasting flechettes on missiles that wouldn’t have hit it.
Only an instant later, the crashing and falling of trees marked the Mad Dog’s approach, popping up on the extreme edge of the active probe’s reach.
Ace almost triggered his jump-jets to get a clear line of fire at it, but realized at the last minute that this would give Siddiq a similarly clear line of sight on him. Instead he backpaced quickly, keeping the trail in view and hopefully buying time before Siddiq realised that he hadn’t fallen into the trap. The electronic countermeasures would make the Huntsman harder to spot, so if she knew he was using them it might not surprise her that she wasn’t picking him up at first.
He could tell the moment she spotted the Huntsman as the Mad Dog, approaching from Ace’s right, suddenly veered towards him. She must have concluded that since she was detected, it was better to commit.
Tracking her via the active probe, Ace fired his PPCs into the trees one at a time. The particle beams ignited the leaves and tree trunks as they blasted through them. He wasn’t sure if any of the beams managed to penetrate the tree cover, but it was worth a try and the Diamond Shark’s judge of the timing was right - both weapons had cycled and his heat was almost back into the green when the Mad Dog powered through the last of the tree cover.
Both fired, Ace firing his jump jets to try to evade the inbound fire.
The airborne Huntsman was rocked by explosions - he’d successfully avoided the two large lasers but despite the best efforts of his anti-missile system and countermeasures, half the SRMs crashed into him.
In return, only one of his PPCs hit, narrowly missing the ‘nose’ of the torso and crashing into the right leg of the Mad Dog.
The Huntsman hit the tree cover and laser pulses from the trio of medium lasers in the right arm stripped away branches and leaves, opening a path for more SRMs that corkscrewed through the treeline, seeking out Ace’s mech.
The missiles crossed paths with Ace’s PPCs and he swore at least one exploded as a particle beam clipped it, before more flechettes plucked three more out of the air. Both beams slammed directly into the face of the Mad Dog’s missile launchers. Nothing seemed to penetrate the thick armor, but a few tubes might be unavailable. Assuming that Siddiq even had LRMs left in her left torso - if she had the standard configuration B then she’d only carried a single ton and must have expended at least half already.
Both of them were wrestling with heat demands, and Ace sprinted the Huntsman to the right, trying to stay head of the pulse lasers’ ability to track him from the Mad Dog’s right arm.
It didn’t work and as he crossed the open trail, Siddiq opened up with everything she had.
Two large lasers slashed away much of the frontal armor on the Huntsman’s chest. Pulse lasers and SRMs flayed away at the left side of the smaller ‘mech and the PPC in that arm failed in a spectacular but ultimately irrelevant detonation of its fully charged capacitors.
But the rapid turn had exposed the damaged right side of the Mad Dog again and Ace fired his remaining PPC into the damage he’d already inflicted on the SRM launchers.
The remaining stored Streak SRMs blew up, venting out of the back of the heavy omnimech like a mighty jump jet that spun the torso against its maximum torso traverse - and the right arm with the three deadly pulse lasers went flying off into the trees.
Already struggling with the heat of the alpha strike, the reactor damage must have left the interior of the Mad Dog baking. It lurched wildly and seemed about to shut down before Siddiq tried to limp back into such cover as the trees would have provided.
Ace wasn’t about to allow that and he lined up his PPC again, firing into the already damaged right leg, stripping away the remaining armor, the whiplash of charged particles inflicting further damage on the myomers beneath.
Impressively, Siddiq didn’t fall, but the effort made any attempt to complete her escape impossible. She turned, trying to bring her two remaining lasers to bear, even if firing them both would build up far more heat than her cooling system could bear.
Ace used his jump jets to leap up and narrowly avoided the shot from the one laser Siddiq used. His return shot blew out the other side of the Mad Dog - disarming it almost literally as the left arm hung limply and unable to bring the lasers to bear.
“Khan Siddiq,” Ace greeted through his speakers. “I do not think you can win now.”
The reply was raw with frustrated anger. “Finish it then.”
“I gather you disabled your ejection seat.”
“A Khan who cannot defend her clan does not deserve to live,” Siddiq told him, nothing left of the urbanity she’d shown in their first meeting. “Remember that, if you continue to rise.”
And then, still limping, she urged the Mad Dog towards the Huntsman.
Ace could have blown away what was left of the right leg and had her at his mercy. But then she’d just demand bondsref… and he wasn’t eager to face that again.
So he gave the last Burrock Khan what she wanted.
A direct hit by his PPC immolated her cockpit, erasing her from existence.
The Mad Dog fell face flat in front of the Huntsman.
“Khan Kerensky,” Ace invited.
“I confirm the result of the Trial of Refusal,” the oathmaster agreed. “The vote of the Grand Council has been upheld. Clan Burrock is hereby deemed to have been absorbed by Clan Diamond Shark.” He spoke with no approval or condemnation, simply stating a fact.
Ace lowered the PPC and watched his heat gauge sink towards baseline.
Another voice came through the channel. “Khan Sennet,” a woman said bleakly. “I, Gracia Colombo, until now Loremaster of Clan Burrock, recognise and accept the outcome of this Trial. The former Clan Council… stands disbanded. Our warriors, our scientists, technicians, our merchants and our laborers… are yours to command. We… We are no longer Burrocks. I ask that you teach us to be Diamond Sharks.” Her voice almost broke.
“This,” Ace’s Khan replied, “is the responsibility of a Clan that absorbs another. You are our warriors, our merchants and scientists, our technicians and laborers. We will work together as one Clan, from this day forth, seyla.”
Ace mouthed the same word, as did Colombo, wherever she was.
“In twenty-four hours, before our warriors depart Camlann,” Sennet continued. “We will hold a meeting of the Clan Council, including all our bloodnamed, to discuss the path of Clan Diamond Shark going forwards. Your voices will be as welcome as any Diamond Sharks… save those implicated in the treatment with the Dark Caste. To all others, we offer redemption and a new path, one where you and we shall find a new unity.”
Silverdale, Alshain
Clan Smoke Jaguar Occupation Zone
3 September 3051
Dorian Wirth seemed out of place calling the Clan Council to order, Sarah Weaver thought. Of course, the Star Colonel had only just been elected as loremaster in place of Edmund Hoyt, so that was understandable. It was not clear yet if Hoyt would survive, much less be in condition to fight to reclaim his place. Another part of the discomfort might come from the location though.
The Warlord of Alshain’s palace was in the archaic style favored by the Combine. While she found it mostly inferior, Sarah would concede that the heavy timbers of this hall had some ambience now that they were draped in Smoke Jaguar banners rather than those of House Kurita. There was still something of a color-clash, but it was better than some of the alternatives. Plans to demolish the palace as soon as a proper headquarters building was erected were in place. The Catslair would mark the Smoke Jaguar’s dominance over the city, the planet and all the worlds that they occupied. It would be a few years before it was ready though, the site was still being cleared of the existing buildings.
Dorian was not the only new presence on the dais. Kincaid Furey had been confirmed as killed in Fayettevil - the Kungsarme squad responsible had been seen boasting about it on public broadcasts on the world - and Sarah had taken her proper place as senior Khan. Beside her, Brandon Howell had been elevated to serve as her deputy. She did not trust him fully, but he had served well on Camlann. Perhaps he would continue to do so as they rebuilt the touman. Only then could they repudiate the truce Showers had agreed to.
As if summoned by her thought of him, the former ilKhan rose to his feet and Dorian recognised his right to speak.
“Trothkin,” he greeted them all. “Clan Smoke Jaguar has come far since I was your Khan. Across the great gulf of space to the Inner Sphere, and then carving out a long wound into the Scavenger Lords’ domains. There have been stumbles, I will not pretend otherwise, but surely no Clan is more feared now than Clan Smoke Jaguar.”
He paused. “Shall we let it rest at that? Shall we stop here and let other Clans take their fill?”
There were shouts of “Neg!” from around the room - both the side where those present sat and the other where holograms represented those elsewhere.
“Neg, of course not!” Showers shouted. “We will gather our strength. We will purge the treacherous ComStar from our worlds. And then we will strike for Terra. For now we know their strengths and their weaknesses. And we will be the ilClan.”
“Building strength will not be easy,” Sarah cut in firmly. “We know that few Clans build as many battlemechs as we Smoke Jaguars, nor such fine ones. But it will take time for the production of our new Arctic Cheetah and Ebon Jaguars to make up the losses we have taken - and then there are years it will take for sibkos to produce warriors.”
Not to mention obtaining enough HPGs to oust ComStar. The Diamond Sharks had actually cut the availability of their surplus even further, which was sending the costs spiralling.
Jin Mehta stood. “My sources report that Clan Steel Viper and Clan Diamond Shark have made a pact,” he reported. “The first have shared designs to at least two battlemech designs in exchange for cooperation in constructing factories to increase their production.”
“Are you suggesting we should crawl to some other Clan for help?” Howell asked, incredulously.
Sarah saw the Galaxy Commander start to shake his head, but Leo Showers spoke first. “Neg!” he roared. “Never will the Jaguar bow to any other Clan. No, we shall prepare and when these factories are complete we will take them for our own. That is the way of the Clans!”
There was a cheer from around the hall.
“Further,” he added, “The Steel Vipers are at least the one Clan we know that has not fallen into the degeneracy of choosing warriors from the freebirths! Every Viper taken as isorla will be a suitable candidate to be brought into our Clan as warriors. Their Clan has no place in the Inner Sphere, save if we choose to share one so where else can they turn?”
“And will you lead that effort?” Sarah asked. It would be a neat way to get rid of him: send the fallen ilKhan back to the homeworlds to fight against the other Clans and leave the conquest of the Inner Sphere to leaders who were not failures.
“For once you speak wisely,” Jin Mehta declared. Sarah flushed at the backhanded insult but then felt blood drain from her face as he continued: “Leo Showers led us well as Khan before, let us appoint him once more!” The burly warrior sneered at Weaver. “Better him than the coward that fled on Camlann.”
She was going to kill him, she swore.
“Loremaster,” Brandon Howell declared. “We have a measure to vote on.”
Stravag! He must be in on it! Sarah concluded.
Leo Showers stepped towards the dais, shoulders squared, without a shred of humility. “Would you have be as your Khan, Jaguars? Sons and daughters of Franklin Osis, the true inheritors of the Founder’s vision?”
“AFF! AFF!” they shouted.
Sarah stepped forwards. “Operation Revival failed,” she reminded them. “And through it’s path, we have been humiliated by Lincoln Osis and Kincaid Furey, both of whom were appointed to this office with the support of Leo Showers.” She looked at her former superior. “Is that the quality you look for in a Khan, one who appoints -”
But they kept howling and her words were almost entirely drowned out by the enthusiasm that Showers had gathered almost effortlessly from them.
And then he raised his hands and suddenly Showers commanded their silence!
“Vote,” Showers ordered. “Who is for me?”
Dorian brought up the voting counter and it leapt upwards as warrior after warrior voted for a return of Leo Showers. Not all of them, but more than enough. Every vote against him - and Sarah was realistic enough to know they were not all for her - was outnumbered by another three or four for the former ilKhan.
“Traitor,” she hissed to Howell.
He grimaced. “It was always going to happen, Sarah. It was you or me and I chose me.” His voice grew bitter. “I do not know what he asked of you, but I paid a price for this seat.”
There had been no offer from Showers, Sarah thought. Not at all. He played Howell for a fool, and… a white-hot rod of anger threaded through her, he had outright discarded her.
“Do not worry,” Brandon Howell said as he stood to very visibly cast his vote for Leo Showers. “You will still have a place in the leadership. We will need a garrison commander on Huntress.”
That was the last straw and before Dorian Wirth was done calling for any holdouts to cast their votes, Sarah lunged for her saKhan.
A red haze descended as she crashed against Howell, bringing him to the ground. He brought his knee up, trying to get leverage between them but Sarah slid sideways and jabbed her elbow beneath his ribs, driving the air from his lungs. When he doubled up, she brought her head down and sharply butted him in the face, breaking his nose.
Howell caught her by her short mohawk and yanked her over to the side, rolling over to get above her. One hand hammered down and almost crushed her throat - Sarah ducked her chin and thought the hit might have broken her jaw. But there was no time for her to worry about that.
Grabbing his arm, she wrenched it around and there was a scream as the joint dislocated.
Howell tried to throttle her with his one good hand but she caught the hand in both of hers and broke one finger. Then she got one knee up and had the leverage to kick him up and off her.
Scrambling to her feet, Sarah found herself swaying slightly - it took a moment to realize that there weren’t two Brandon Howell’s coming at her and that cost her as a kick to the ribs knocked her back to the floor - off the dais entirely.
He leapt down after her, but Sarah rolled up on her shoulders and let him spear himself on her extended legs. The impact seemed to hit every bone between her spine to her toes, but Howell crashed to the floor, howling in agony.
Kipping up, feeling a further stab from her chest that warned of broken ribs, Sarah kicked the treacherous saKhan in the head and then when he clutched at it, she took the opportunity to kick him again in the groin.
The scream that came from Howell was shrill and that of a wounded and helpless prey. Sarah showed him the proper mercy for such: she slammed her heel down on his adam’s apple and pressed down until he was silent.
The hall was also quiet, she realized. The gathered Smoke Jaguars were all staring at her and she glared back. If they would not have done the same then they were not of her Clan.
The clap of hands together drew Sarah’s eyes back to the dais. Leo Showers smiled down at her. “There we see a true Smoke Jaguar warrior,” he declared. “There is only room for one junior Khan and Sarah Weaver has proven herself the best choice, has she not?” he asked rhetorically. “Who would challenge her fury?”
(Was it her imagination or was there a flicker of fear in his eyes?)
“Beyond that,” Showers continued, “If she rather than Furey had bid for Camlann then we would have landed with enough of our warriors to carry the day. Who knows what might have happened if the other Clans had seen that. Perhaps fewer would have shown such cowardice.” He shook his head theatrically. “We will never know, but I can think of no better choice to lead the Smoke Jaguars with me.”
When he extended his hand towards her, Sarah was tempted to drag him down and do to him what she had just done to Howell. But her chest reminded her of the ribs and when she tried to speak, her jaw failed her.
Besides, even if I could speak to challenge him, he could call numbers equal to the balance of the vote - can I beat him and three others? Not today. But one day, she decided. I will kill him one day. Grudgingly, Sarah took Showers’ hand and he helped her up onto the dais.
“Taking from the Steel Vipers will not be our only challenge in the homeworlds,” Showers continued, returning to the grand scale. “Clan Blood Spirit have taken offense at the Diamond Sharks for their presumption in absorbing Clan Burrock, and Clan Ice Hellion are attempting to prove their strength against every other Clan they cross paths with. We will show them that Clan Smoke Jaguar remains foremost among the Clans. We will take from every Clan that is less than us in order to build up our strength - and no clan is our equal! - and then we will tear the heart out of the Inner Sphere. Terra will be ours, and then as the ilClan we will establish a new Star League!”
There is nothing there that I disagree with, Sarah thought, and spat blood onto the wooden floor. But you presume that it is you who will be elevated to ilKhan by such a victory. And you will never see Terra with your own eyes. If the spheroids do not kill you first, I will.
-
Classic Smoke Jaguar politicking, there is no way Trent and Tyra can inflict more damage than the clan's leading lights can.
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Classic Smoke Jaguar politicking, there is no way Trent and Tyra can inflict more damage than the clan's leading lights can.
I kinda like this version of Sarah Weaver. She´s got her head on straight, as much as any Smoke Jaguar does, and she doesn´t stoop to the kind of scheming and backroom dealing that should be completely alien to a warrior society.
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Just when you thought Ace's victory couldn't be topped... :D
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Classic Smoke Jaguar politicking, there is no way Trent and Tyra can inflict more damage than the clan's leading lights can.
But that won't stop them from trying, maybe even making use of the 'accidental' SJ leadership 'damage'!
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Will Ace be getting a commission for the excellent commercial he provided for the Huntsman showing that it can defeat two individually heavier omni-mechs?
😁
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Will Ace be getting a commission for the excellent commercial he provided for the Huntsman showing that it can defeat two individually heavier omni-mechs?
😁
Well I can see them making his loadout one of the official ones. :grin:
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Well I can see them making his loadout one of the official ones. :grin:
I do believe that they will put him in a heavier mech eventually to give him more suitability on the battlefield-there has been too many instances now of him escaping by the seat of his pants or author-ex-machina.
Something like a modified Gargoyle A would make a ton of sense-drop the LPL and MPL, get eight tons, add jump jets, AMS and a bit more armor. You now have an 80-ton assault mech that can jump and fire ERPPCs.
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Smoke Jaguars are like Kzinti- all scream & leap.
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Opalescent Reflections
House of Cards
Chapter 13
Hilton Head, North America
Terra, Sol System
10 October 3051
Anastasius Focht arched an eyebrow when he saw what Wei Rong wore to open the door to her apartment. “I don’t mind this over the beach,” he offered drily (it was a wet and windy day up on the surface of Hilton Head), “but do you have to dress as if you’re going dancing?”
Wei glanced down at her cheongsan. “I wouldn’t be wearing this much if I was going dancing,” she said frankly. “Although if I wanted to, I’m not sure there would be anyone but ROM agents and your soldiers in the club. It’s hard enough to manage dinner and a show.”
“A dark and noisy venue where the motives of those trying to get you alone might not be those that you’d approve of,” the old man enquired. “I cannot think of one reason that your security would be upset.”
“Yes, but they have a much longer lists of reasons they don’t want me off alone,” Wei told him, ushering him into the lounge and turning off the Capellan string music she’d been enjoying. “You would not believe how they reacted when I suggested just assigning an agent or two to partake with me.”
“Oh yes, I can.” But his lips quirked upwards. “I could probably find volunteers but I don’t think they’d be a useful level of security while engaged in what you have in mind.”
Wei snorted. “I should run away, I really should.” She folded her legs beneath her on the well-padded armchair facing Focht’s seat. “So, what’s the situation of the ComGuards?”
The Precentor-Martial folded his hands. “Officially we have three Level V units stationed on Terra, but in practise the combined size of the First, Second and Third Divisions isn’t even a single Level V between them all and won’t be up to that level until we graduate next year’s expanded classes. Even bringing in soldiers from garrison postings, most of them don’t have the needed speciality training. Depending on recruitment numbers, we’re looking at four to six years to bring them up to the strength of the other nine divisions.”
Wei exhaled. “I assume this is including the recovery of the long term wounded.” The average strength of the other nine divisions was two-thirds of their paper numbers. Roughly half the ComGuards’ field forces had been wiped away. There were hundreds of thousands more soldiers, but many were in light or mechanized infantry units that could guard their base HPG stations against little more than local criminal. Pirates, the Clans or - Blake forbid - the Successor States, were another matter entirely.
Focht nodded. “The variations depend on our recruitment numbers - I am actually quite optimistic there. Fighting the Clans to a standstill has left us with a degree of glamor. There was a surge in recruitment across almost all ComStar enclaves. I don’t believe it will last though.”
“But even after those four to six years, we are looking at only two-thirds of your former field strength,” she asked. “Assuming we don’t face any further challenges which…” She trailed off.
Focht nodded seriously. “Hard to predict. If we compare the expansion over the first ten years of my service with the ComGuards, this is quite slow, but that ate up a large amount of the prospective pool of candidates. And even if we managed to recruit that many, equipping them will be a challenge.”
“I assumed as much.”
He exhaled. “Other than the brigade of Ninth Division that’s being sent to Mars, the rest of the ComGuards are filtering back out to duty posts. We’ll only have a division each covering the periphery borders of the Free Worlds League and the Suns, but I agree that that’s about as much as we can spare. Four divisions will give us some coverage of the enclaves above the Camlann line. As for the rest…”
Wei nodded. The old Hegemony region had been heavily fought over during the Succession Wars so many worlds there had enclaves that would now be only thinly guarded. “I imagine that the budgetary meetings for the next few years will be fraught.”
It was a bitter thought that after she’d been hoping to gradually bring the ComGuards down to a more affordable level she was now going to have to fight to bring them up to their previous strength. Stronger, really, given the mammoth cost of the warship program.
Focht saw through her. “There is an old saying that the most expensive military force is the one that’s second-best,” he warned quietly.
“I see the logic,” Wei said, voice clipped. Then she shook her head. “I’m sorry, that was rude.”
“It takes more than that to offend me, Primus.”
“If I don’t hold myself to account, who will?” She ran her hands through her hair. “The brigade being sent to Mars are the replacements for the Wolf Dragoons?”
“Correct. The Dragoons seem eager to take up contracts facing the Clans rather than training roles, particularly after Luthien. It’s understandable. The Level IV in question is equipped entirely with clan technology salvaged from Camlann, which should make them ideal as training opponents for the academy there.”
“And also spares equipment for other units?”
“It helps a little,” Focht agreed.
Wei tapped her fingers together. “Can you support that unit - I imagine even as a trainng force they’ll go through munitions and the like?”
“Not as much as they would in real combat,” he qualified, “But yes. Estimates are that we’ll be able to keep them going for a decade unless they have to go into battle. And they’ll be fit for at least some real combat if we need them for that. I take it that Beta department are complaining?”
“They are.” Wei found a smile somewhere. “I told them to shut up. They have thousands of tons of Clan equipment to study, and a generous budget to try to close the gap. If that isn’t enough, taking more hardware from you won’t help.”
“That is appreciated.” Focht admitted. “I know that your own battles can be fierce.”
“Let’s not even compare,” she said, thinking back to the field hospitals she’d visited. “On the topic of equipment, while we could technically lay claim to just about every Hippogriff that’s being built, that wouldn’t make us many friends. With production kicking in, we can get a trickle from every factory but we’re mostly on our own.”
The white-haired man smiled slightly. “For all my contributions to the design, the Hippogriff alone isn’t sufficient to rebuild all our battlemech forces, and there are a number of other unit types besides ‘mechs. We can at least rely on Terran production.”
Wei shoved second thoughts aside. “Also on Taussen. Another of our little secrets,” she clarified. “The planet was abandoned by the Federated Suns colonists during the First Succession War, but after that ComStar managed to stabilize the terraforming and settled refugees there - it’s been two hundred years and the world is thriving now. It was going to be our fallback production center for HPG components if Terra was lost.”
“I see,” he mused slowly. “And you plan to construct military factories there instead?”
“As well as - we can’t afford to rely on Terra alone anymore,” she corrected him. “The current plan is to build the Gunslinger assault ‘mech that we share with the AFFC and DCMS, as well as Hippogriffs. With both being built at multiple sites already it should be less obvious we have other sources.” She made a face. “That’s the idea, anyway.”
“In principle, there’s merit to that,” allowed Focht. “Just battlemechs?”
“No, the modified Corsair aerospace fighters will be built there.”
“The CorStar?” he clarified. “Good. We only had a squadron over Camlann, but we still have most of the squadron, which speaks well of the design’s merits. The ComGuards will need far more than just those designs, but they are a decent core to build around.”
“Do you think we have the four to six years you were talking about?” Wei asked.
“No,” the man said immediately. “The de facto truce along the edges of the occupation zone will last only until the Federated Commonwealth feels ready to counterattack - when exactly that will be I’m not sure, but it won’t be that far away. The Draconis Combine would do so, but it will take them longer than that. And then there are the Clans to consider.”
“You think that they’ll break the agreement to stay corewards of Camlann?”
He shook his head. “Possible, but unlikely. They’ll be looking for an aggressive outlet though, a way to prove themselves after this year’s defeat. It might be a matter of them turning on each other - there are suggestions that their homeworlds may be doing that - or striking at targets above the line. I do not know where or when the current ceasefire will end, but I give it two years at most before someone acts.”
“...and we have enclaves in the middle of that.”
“To be fair, Primus, most of our enclaves towards the core are along the old Lyran-Draconian border,” Focht pointed out. “If the Clan war extends laterally it will be into areas where most of the ComGuards presence isn’t much more than security guards and or ComStar personnel outside the HPG crews themselves.”
“That’s some small consolation,” Wei allowed. “I suppose that the main issues will be political, which are more my concern than yours. Alright.” She sat up. “Without knowing what we’ll be dealing with, I can’t decide what to do there. I imagine there will be projections of what you need in terms of budget and diplomacy to get what you need?”
“They’re being drawn up,” the old man agreed. “There is one thing I wanted to bring up now because it’s an opportunity that could be time sensitive. NETC have been working on a new medium tank, but development costs are getting out of hand and they’re looking at putting it on hold in favor of the updated Vedette.”
Wei made a ‘go on’ gesture.
“I think the tank has much more potential than the Vedette, it’s sort of a… pocket-Manticore, if you will.”
“Nasty, they’re both tanks as far as I’m concerned,” she said with a chuckle. “You want this… whatever it’s called?”
“Myrmidon. And yes. Our medium tank forces took a beating on Camlann, this could be a solution to that. I don’t want to wait five damn years for them to decide they can afford to finish the work needed.” His eyes flashed.
“We don’t have five years,” Wei agreed. “I’ll talk to them. We’ve always had good relations with NETC.”
“They’re no Quikscell,” confirmed Focht.
“Speaking of whom…”
He winced. “They’re available, so we probably can’t avoid doing business with them but make sure the penalty clauses for quality control are harsh. Quikscell’s lock on the missile carrier market is a pain in the neck.”
Wei grinned. “I will see if we can leverage licensing from them. They manage to co-exist with JES, perhaps we can get some new manufacturers in.” Even she’d heard of the epic legal battles where Quikscell, a notoriously shoddy combat vehicle manufacturer, had managed to run almost every competitor they had in the missile carrier market into bankruptcy over failure to pay license fees.
“I doubt they’ll be amenable but we stopped the Clans, so maybe it’s our lucky year,” Focht agreed. “That’s the only thing I’m looking at that is really time sensitive. You can expect a lot of paperwork in the next month though.”
“I’ll be waiting,” she agreed. “Oh, and keep your schedule clear over Christmas.”
Focht’s one eye blinked. “I… if you say so?”
“Archon Melissa Steiner-Davion and her husband have proposed a third conference, to deal with the long term consequences of the Clans’ presence in the Inner Sphere now that they’ve been stopped,” Wei told him. “It’s a good idea - she sent her message about a day before mine was about to go out.” And rather than compete, she’d added an endorsement of the idea. “Rather than returning to Unity City, they propose to hold the meeting on Liao.”
The Precentor-Martial scowled. “That will infuriate Romano Liao.”
He wasn’t wrong. Liao was the ancestral home of House Liao - well, they were from Terra originally, but it was on Liao they’d built their own realm until they eventually seized control of the nascent Capellan Confederation and the seat of power moved rimwards. Much like Wei’s homeworld of New Canton, Liao had fallen under the control of the Federated Commonwealth during the Fourth Succession War. One of Melissa’s younger children had even been born there when (not yet the Archon) she had visited the world. “I suspect that that may be the point. Romano boycotting such a meeting will further isolate her.”
“Hmm.” Focht shook his head. “And will her nephew attend?”
“I believe that Duke Kai Allard-Liao has other things on his mind.”
The young Duke had gone from Terra to Outreach and then the burgeoning war zone in under a month - somehow managing to mobilize two regiments of mercenary mechwarriors in that time. It was a scratch force, but they’d been totally outside Capellan expectations and his attack on Ares had been reinforced with infantry and armor from the Compact. It looked very much like the industrial world would fall - the sparsely populated neighboring Necromo already had.
Wei paused as that reminded her. “He will probably be represented though. He sent me a message, asking if we would be interested in joint talks to complete what he believes to be a warship construction slip partially assembled in the Necromo system.”
Focht blinked again. “In Necromo?”
“It’s hard to believe that Romano Liao would site a warship programme just one jump from the Federated Commonwealth,” she agreed. “But perhaps that was her thinking. Or maybe she just had few choices. The only jumpship yard she has left is over Capella and that’s not really any better location wise.”
“A barely developed border world seems like another poor choice to me,” the Precentor Martial mused. “But trying to follow the logic of House Liao has always been challenging.” He shook his head. “Do you intend to follow up on this initiative?”
“It would be problematic when we don’t know if Necromo will even remain in St Ives’ hands,” Wei observed. “And of course, it wouldn’t be in line with ComStar’s neutrality. Of course, if a few contractors happen to consult…”
“Politics,” Focht said in a disgusted tone. “It never gets any cleaner.”
“Well, I won’t ask you to get too involved if there is an attempt to mediate between the two branches of House Liao,” Wei told him lightly. “The Chancellor is hard to predict, but even if the AFFC isn’t directly intervening as long as they protect the Compact’s own worlds, there’s little to stop the Duke managing local superiority so she can’t expect to win this in the long run. Perhaps some quiet looming at my shoulder. Since we’ve shown off our military capabilities, I ought to at least make use of that.”
“Two birds with one stone,” he recognised and then frowned. “Three if you’re going to insist on flirting with me as well.”
“As if I need an excuse.”
“Primus, you’re in my chain of command.”
“I am your chain of command. Speaking of chains…”
“No.” He said flatly.
“You’re no fun,” Wei pouted. “But I meant jump-chains. I don’t think we can rely on moving the ComGuards back into position as quickly as we did previously. Frankly, we ate a lot of cancellation charges to bring them in and if we’re going to pay for expanded training and equipment purchasing, that has to stop. Can you look into options for short term postings within 200 light years of Terra along the Combine and League borders. A presence there might deter any local urges to adventurism…”
-
Chang-an, Liao
Sarna March, Lyran Commonwealth
23 December 3051
After hours of formal ceremonies, Victor was glad to put aside the heavy formal cape and scepter he’d been invested with and go back to just wearing an AFFC dress uniform. Normally, he’d consider that uncomfortable, but the regalia of a March Lord put that into perspective.
Released from the care of valets, the newly minted Duke of Sarna made his escape into the banquet hall. House Liao had built it on a great scale eight hundred years before and it had survived the centuries - housing diplomats from neighboring realms, vassal lords from nearby worlds and then the nobility of the Tikonov Commonality when members of the Great House returned to their roots. Rich heavy woods and ivory inlays marked tall pillars, with windows and mirrors high above even the galleries lighting up the chamber.
Victor saw that already there were clusters of officials, nobles and military officers forming little clusters - and around the edges little knots of elaborately dressed women watched each other with the air of feral dogs about to fight over some morsel. He shuddered slightly, knowing who their target was.
“Well, if it isn’t the guest of honor.”
Victor turned at the greeting, glad it wasn’t loud enough to draw attention. “Hauptmann-Kommandant.”
Galen grinned. “Hauptmann-Kommandant,” he returned the greeting. “Congratulations for catching up on my lofty rank.”
“I almost wish I hadn’t,” he admitted. There was only room for one Hauptmann-Kommandant in the Tenth Lyran Guards ‘mech regiment so the promotion had cost him his battalion. It wasn’t clear he’d ever have a permanent unit assignment now.
“Well, if my cursory knowledge of your lofty rank is right, you could have claimed a Field Marshal’s tabs,” the Tamar native pointed out.
Victor made a face. Customarily, as March Lord it was his right to claim control of either the associated Ministry or of the military forces stationed in the Sarna March. He didn’t feel ready for either and had endorsed the current incumbents but his parents had made it clear that sooner or later he would need to personally choose the successors, and preferably take one of the offices. “I don’t think I’ve earned that rank.”
“For what it’s worth, Victor,” Galen told him, “I think you’re right.”
“Thanks.”
“One day, yes. But you’re only twenty-one. Take the time you have to make sure that you are ready.”
“Yeah,” Victor agreed. “I guess you’re right.” He looked around. “How about we take a walk around the gallery, maybe grab some drinks before I go down there.”
Galen chuckled. “Sure. Just as long as you do head down there. We both know that that’s part of you getting ready.”
“I know,” Victor sighed. “But may be if I wait a little, some of the ambushers will take each other out.”
“Some people don’t have women lining up looking for our attention.”
“You can have one if them if you want,” he offered as they walked around the gallery towards the section that opened up into the upstairs bar. “Heck, take three if you can swing it.”
Galen laughed and smacked him on the back.
The bar was carpeted and while most of those below were from the Federated Commonwealth, the bar was apparently a refuge for a smattering of representatives from the Draconis Combine and the Free Worlds League. Few had attended Victor’s investiture, but the follow up reception was a prelude to the conference that was the real reason most had come to Liao.
Victor brightened as he saw two familiar faces sat at one of the tables. The Coordinator of the Draconis Combine was flanked by two aides that were evidently really guards, but his attention was on the woman facing him.
Omi looked up and saw Victor, then said something to Minoru, who turned his head slightly. His face was stiffer than it had been when they spoke by HPG but the Coordinator rose from his seat and strode across the bar towards them.
“Please tell me you didn’t knock his sister up,” Galen murmured as everyone turned to look at what must look like a confrontation between ancestral enemies.
“Dammit, Galen.” He’d been a complete gentleman. If that had happened there would be a war, it was just a matter of how large it would be. It wasn’t as if he was some dumb leutnant out on the town, and Omi was definitely not the sort of woman to fall for a young officer, even if they’d not had all their family history to think about.
Minoru was first to speak, and he did so while offering his hand. “You saved my sister, my brother’s swords, and thousands of House Kurita’s most loyal and capable followers. House Steiner-Davion is fortunate to have such a capable heir.”
Victor reached for the hand and shook it. “Our ancestors were each other’s most powerful enemies, but when we work together, I believe our Houses are unstoppable.”
“Slick,” Galen muttered and then stared in bemusement as Minoru also offered him a handshake.
“It has been some time since Terra,” Minoru continued, as Victor shook hands with Omi - crisp and professional. Nothing to suggest anything more than a personal connection. Then she smiled and Victor had to fight to keep his face straight.
“I hope you’ve been made as welcome here as we all were by ComStar,” Galen said.
The Coordinator gave them a fleeting smile. “The hospitality has been excellent. I think it was wise to agree to meet here rather than in one of the Marches bordering the Draconis Combine.”
Omi nodded. “Everyone on New Avalon was very polite, but it will be a long time before anyone there forgets the history between our houses.”
“Perhaps that’s for the best,” Victor said and saw a flicker of surprise from both Kuritas. “We can be reminded of what we’ve forgotten. But if we can build a working relationship while keeping our past in mind then perhaps we can avoid mistakes of the past.”
“Very diplomatic,” Minoru said approvingly. “You’ve been practising.”
Victor shrugged slightly. It was true of course. The preparations for the investiture and the conference had been as gruelling as the final exams at the Nagelring.
“Is it true that Kai Allard-Liao will not be attending?” the Coordinator continued.
He nodded in confirmation. “Yeah, he’s kind of busy. Capellans won’t defeat themselves.”
“Some might say that that’s exactly what is happening,” Omi chided slightly. “I met his sister Kuan-Yin on New Avalon and I believe she would have been happier if he had returned to his family first, before throwing himself into war against their aunt.”
“Vengeance can drive a man - or woman - to make decisions they may later regret.”
She looked away sharply at Galen’s words and Victor nudged the man slightly in reminder that the Kurita’s had both lost their own parents only a year ago. They probably understood Kai’s feelings better than he did. Although… Galen’s parents were also dead, he remembered. He was the only one of the four of them that wasn’t orphaned by war. “I hope not to find out,” he said. “For what it’s worth, unless Romano has more in reserve than McCarron’s Armored Cavalry, I don’t think he’s in any more danger than we faced on Luthien.”
With four other potential hostile neighbours - the Taurian Concordat, Magistracy of Canopus, Free Worlds League and Federated Commonwealth - the Capellans couldn’t afford to strip all their borders to face Kai’s offensive. It wasn’t likely that any of them would invade, but it wasn’t impossible and Romano Liao’s paranoid tendencies made her more likely to expect it than to dismiss the idea.
“How are your hardliners taking the current alliance we’re enjoying?” he asked, to change the subject.
Minoru’s smile slipped. “Perhaps not quite so well as your Draconis March,” he said judiciously.
Victor winced. James Sandoval had been increasingly vocal about this being the perfect opportunity to deal with the Draconis Combine. The Duke had never been happy about the reverses of the Fourth Succession War or the War of 3039 - if his father hadn’t died three years ago, the ‘Old Duke’ would probably be taking the opportunity of being retired to make a scene on New Avalon.
The sad thing was that the Duke of Robinson was faultlessly loyal to the Federated Commonwealth. He just had a very specific idea of what was good for the Federated Commonwealth: it involved the cessation of the Draconis Combine’s existence. And for most of his life, Victor had broadly agreed - it was a matter of when and how, not if.
And then the Clans came.
“Well, Tancred Sandoval is representing his father,” he offered cautiously. “I don’t believe there will ever be great friendship between our nations, but I doubt he wants the Draconis March to experience what the Combine has.”
“I have attempted to avoid bringing anyone inflammatory with me,” Minoru told him. “For the moment, I can silence the more obvious voices by inviting them to lead their personal forces to the worlds bordering the Clans, but I can only do that so much or they will be concentrated in sufficient strength of arms to be a problem in that regard.”
The Coordinator paused in thought. “I wish to stress that I do not believe for a moment that you or my sister would act unharmoniously, but there have been words said outside my hearing regarding the reasons she is on New Avalon.”
“They’re suggesting that she’s a hostage?” asked Galen.
“No,” Minoru corrected him. “They suggest that if Hanse Davion’s grandson was also the grandson of Theodore Kurita then that grandson would be heartbeat from the Dragon throne.”
“Ah.”
Victor gave Omi an apologetic look. “And there are those here who whisper of Mary Davion’s situation.”
At the height of the Star League the daughter of the First Prince had fallen for a samurai she met on Terra… who had been a younger son of the Coordinator. Mary Davion had renounced her inheritance rights in order to marry the man she loved, but after her death there had been claims made that this did not extend to her son Vincent. The disputed succession had led to a four year war and the death of a reigning First Prince, dragged from his cockpit and decapitated on the battlefield.
Before 2730, the Draconis Combine and the Federated Suns had been rivals. After that year, they had been enemies.
“Well,” Galen said brightly. “There is only one thing for it.”
“What’s that?” Victor asked, suspiciously.
“You and Minoru are the most eligible bachelors in the Inner Sphere,” Galen told him. “There’s a hall down there with a large number of women who will no doubt find you irresistible.”
Victor exchanged looks with Minoru. “The obvious issue there is that finding women who care for me rather than my rank is a bit challenging.”
“House Kurita customarily keeps our family matters private.”
Galen sighed theatrically and looked over to Omi. “They’re hopeless. Fortunately, I have a Plan B?”
“And that would be?” she asked, sounding amused.
“Can I buy you a drink?” he asked, sounding entirely too charming.
Omi considered that and then nodded. “Since we are now allies, enjoying Lyran largesse would be in order.”
Victor tried very very hard not to glare at his friend’s back.
Imperial City, Luthien
Clan Diamond Shark Occupation Zone
27 December 3051
Hard wood clattered against hard wood. Ace retreated, glad of the protective gear.
After three exchanges, he missed a block and his opponent’s sword tip smacked hard against his shoulder. Fortunately it was made of wood and his padded gear reduced the impact to bruising. Even so, he’d be feeling it for a while.
Not the worst lesson he’d had, but it was still annoying against someone twice his age. “Your point,” he confirmed and glanced at the judge. “And match, I believe?”
“Correct,” Precentor Andrew Norris confirmed. “Time for one more?”
“Tempting,” Ace admitted, “But if I don’t start cooling down now, I will not get the chance. My schedule is unforgiving.”
He and his opponent exchanged bows and then left the training mat to other students in the dojo. Despite the Combine styling of the building, it was property of ComStar so Ace could be reasonably sure no one would attack him here. A breach of ComStar’s neutrality would require them to side against the insurgents - not to the point of helping Ace find them, but they’d have to stop extending their protection to those who made it here.
Neither side wanted that, so Ace’s semi-regular kenjutsu lessons were relatively safe.
Norris followed Ace to the side of the room. “I gather we won’t be seeing you here in the future?”
Ace gave him a questioning look.
“We do hear things,” Norris admitted. “Omega Galaxy rotating in while you are going one way and, forgive me if I have misunderstood, Alpha Galaxy is going somewhere else?”
“A little more complicated than that.” There was a degree to which this was military information that shouldn’t be shared, but at the same time it would be fairly well known soon. “And I gather you will be moving to Pesht to act as Precentor-Advocate for our Clan?”
“Touche,” Precentor Luthien acknowledged. “Yes, it rather surprised us that you decided against basing that on Luthien but I suppose the insurgent problems are a little less on Pesht.”
“We are working on it,” Ace confirmed. And since Norris had shared some information, he could be forthcoming himself. “There is some rather overdue reorganization going on. I was never going to retain Alpha Galaxy in the long run - it is traditionally the Khan’s command. Honestly, keeping the post for a full year is longer than was planned originally.”
Norris nodded. “I had heard some rumor that you would receive Omega Galaxy instead, but clearly that is not the case.”
“Ng, Seth Marghar will be arriving to take over. I do not know him,” Ace admitted. The Galaxy Commander had led one of the Burrock garrison galaxies and would be one of the relatively few senior Burrock officers to be keeping his rank. Bikendi Vewas had already departed - the saKhan typically led Beta Galaxy and they were back in the homeworlds. It was probably best to have one of the two Khans back there with the way things had been heating up.
Clan Blood Spirit had not taken the Burrocks being absorbed almost bloodlessly well. Working together against a common enemy was working wonders to bond the Diamond Sharks and the… new Diamond Sharks, but it was making it harder to bring troops forward into the Inner Sphere, which had been the entire point of the absorption.
“So what greek letter will you be leading?” asked Norris as they both unstrapped their gear. While he’d judged Ace’s match, the Precentor had participated in several earlier matches. “Your people seem as fond of them as we are at times. Delta?”
“No, Delta is in the homeworlds,” Ace said and then cursed himself for giving that away. Still, if he’d answered at all then it would have suggested that. “I am receiving Epsilon Galaxy.”
“Epsilon…” mused the Precentor, opening the hamper where used padding was to be placed for cleaning. “I don’t recall that unit on your roster from the invasion, so I assume you’re expanding your presence now. Should we be worried?”
“It was pretty clear that we had not brought enough forces,” Ace told him and handed his own pads over. Delta and Epsilon Galaxy were both frontline galaxies that were being assembled out of the warriors and equipment made available by disassembling the Burrock touman. Delta would be almost entirely made up of former Burrocks, while Epsilon would have an even split - enough warriors and equipment for two clusters were on their way to rendezvous with the Twenty-First Assault and Twenty-Seventh Cruiser Clusters, both of which would transfer from Alpha to act as a cadre.
Barbara Sennet would be integrating a similar group of reinforcements into Alpha Galaxy and once that was done, Ace gathered that a pair of garrison galaxies would be transferred along the ‘Revival Road’ to bring the Occupation forces up to an acceptable level. After Camlann the priority had been bringing forward administrators and local garrisons but it was fairly clear that more was going to be needed soon.
Honestly, Ace would prefer more, but there had been a succession of Trials of Possession fought for territory and resources of the expanded Clan Diamond Shark. Nothing significant had been lost, but if this kept up it was only a matter of time and sending more forces to the Inner Sphere would only open more opportunities to the other Clans.
The two men began stretches calculated to help their muscles settle down from the earlier exertions. Ace was still feeling the strain from the unfamiliar exercises, but he did feel that he was beginning to get a more functional grasp of how one used a katana. Having more options for trials was something he needed to work on, and if it helped him to get to grips with how the Combine thought then that was all the better.
“Have you ever met Minoru Kurita?” he asked Norris.
“Only once,” the Precentor admitted. “He’d left for training at an academy before I was stationed here. It was only shortly before you took Luthien that we had any chance to meet, and of course he left before you arrived.”
“I suppose he would be trained in kenjutsu?”
“Oh, absolutely. The nobility of the Combine consider that to be normal and even if for some bizarre reason he hadn’t been trained by his family - Takashi Kurita was a very respected swordsman,” Norris added as an aside, “- it is covered by every reputable academy in in the Combine. You simply can’t graduate without learning kenjutsu.”
Ace nodded. The mindset of a swordsman was an aggressive one. The katana was not really used for parrying, even if sword contact came up fairly often in training. One might wait for an opponent to move first in order to find an opening, but the emphasis was on striking decisively to eliminate the foe.
The chances of the Draconis Combine waiting for the fifteen year truce to expire were minimal - the agreement never bound them anyway. That being the case, it would be better to strip worlds - particularly industrial worlds - from their control now rather than later. Ace doubted that they would be caught as unprepared as they had been at the start of the invasion, but the the addition of more advanced technology and graduation of new classes meant that the DCMS would be more dangerous every year going forwards.
He looked forward to discussing this with Angus Labov once his former commander arrived from the homeworlds. Now that he had returned to active warrior status, the Star Colonel had stated his intent to reclaim the Twenty-First Assault Cluster, which was fine with Ace. It would be a little odd to be in charge of Labov, but it had been over two years since they last met.
Sharks had to keep swimming, he thought.
Straightening up, Ace concluded that he had finished just in time. “I may see you on Pesht,” he told Norris, “But it depends where I wind up taking Epsilon Galaxy. And the enemy does get a vote in that.”
“Which enemy?” the Precentor asked.
“Good question,” he admitted.
-
Good question indeed.
One interesting point, with Burrocks absorbed, Ace is now the most senior ranking holder of the Enders bloodname, but will probably not pick up the mantle of bloodhouse leader, due to him being in the Inner Sphere and being busy with command and administration duties (given how warriors are the final authority it all matters and small staffs, the occupation must have been a nightmarish duty). Since Burrocks are Sharks now it would be unseemly of him to trade nomination for the positions in the next bloodname trial, so he will have to nominate former Burrocks. Given truly outstanding record of this holder of Enders name, would it be possible to up the number of bloodrights (Annika would achieve zen of rage if that was to happen thanks to him)?
There surely will be Ace Enders sibkos now that Steven Hawker is dead, but I wouldn't expect much of them in the future, while genes his parents passed on to him gave him good jumping off point, what made him such decisive/disrupting factor was his upbringing and life experience, enabling him to approach the obstacles in life with different solutions than someone brought up in sibko would.
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I think you mean Ian Hawker, and sibkos using Ace Enders' DNA were begun pretty much as soon as he won the Bloodname. The Diamond Shark Scientists don't give a crap about Ace being freeborn, they have DNA from a bloodhouse they didn't have access to before. And even Ian Hawker saw the prestige of, a generation from now, being able to contest further bloodrights from the Burrocks.
Steven Hawker is alive, and having recovered from his broken back, is even getting a second chance to lead a Cluster following the absorption.
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Google thinks you meant "cheongsam" vice "cheongsan", just FYSA... :)
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Did you make some revisions to AFFC ranks? If I recall correctly according to canon, Hauptmann-Kommandant was a LCAF rank that was abolished with the formation of the AFFC because it was considered superfluous(like much of the bloated Lyran rank structure)of course this was also the entity that thought eliminating the Leftenant Colonels rank and renaming Colonels rank to Leftenant General was a good idea.
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Google thinks you meant "cheongsam" vice "cheongsan", just FYSA... :)
Thanks
Did you make some revisions to AFFC ranks? If I recall correctly according to canon, Hauptmann-Kommandant was a LCAF rank that was abolished with the formation of the AFFC because it was considered superfluous(like much of the bloated Lyran rank structure)of course this was also the entity that thought eliminating the Leftenant Colonels rank and renaming Colonels rank to Leftenant General was a good idea.
Yes. It's mostly the LAAF rank structure, up to the rank of Kommandant-General, at least by names.
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Steven Hawker is alive, and having recovered from his broken back, is even getting a second chance to lead a Cluster following the absorption.
You are right, I was thinking of Ian. If Steven got his new command after absorption, would that mean his cluster is mostly ex-Burrocks? If Annika is amongst them they can bond over shared hatred of Ace. Or they can fight over who hates Ace more, this is Clans afterall.
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This chapter is no longer canonical and is being replaced. It is left here so as not to remove context from the subsequent comments.
Opalescent Reflections
House of Cards
Chapter 14
Chang-an, Liao
Sarna March, Lyran Commonwealth
14 January 3052
For reasons that would probably be analyzed in detail later for the First Circuit, neither faction of House Liao had approached ComStar to mediate their conflict. Instead the representatives of Kai and Romano Liao had agreed on Thomas Marik.
While the implications of looking for a neutral party other than ComStar might prove alarming, Wei was perfectly happy to leave that particular argument to the Captain-General of the Free Worlds League. For one thing, she didn’t get the impression that either side was willing to compromise. And the League’s neutrality would be important - if the Chancellor convinced Thomas Marik to help her against her nephew, that would almost certainly force intervention by the Federated Commonwealth… and whichever way the Draconis Combine picked to side with, the consequences would be bad.
So long as it was just the two nations ruled by House Liao fighting, the situation was relatively contained and that was… well, Wei didn’t consider it good, but perhaps least bad.
With the Captain-General and the Capellans talking privately, Wei was dining with the two combatant powers’… the other two combatant powers’ representatives. Rasalhague could no longer be counted - General Mansdottir was rebuilding what remained of the Kungsarme into the 1st Tyr, the last brigade they had and ironically one that he had only formed as a rallying point for militia and volunteers fighting alongside the regular regiments. But they were little more than a mercenary unit fighting for the Combine now.
The three of them occupied one of the smaller dining rooms, served from what were - of course - literally royal kitchens. The roast duck and rice in front of Wei were the best she’d ever had, and it didn’t seem as if Minoru Kurita was likely to complain about the vegetarian dumplings he’d requested. Melissa Steiner-Davion was picking at the pork ribs she’d been served but it didn’t seem likely that that was a complaint about the dish.
“Are you missing your husband?” Wei asked. “I’m a little surprised he didn’t attend.”
“It shows?” the Archon asked, with no real surprise. She put down the chopsticks she used with surprising facility. “I suppose it does. We spent the invasion with him on New Avalon and myself on Tharkad. It would have been nice to be together here, we have some happy memories of Liao. Unfortunately, there’s enough friction in the Draconis March that visiting Robinson seemed necessary.”
Wei hid a frown. It was true that many worlds bordering the Draconis Combine were increasingly wondering why they weren’t taking the opportunity to kick their aggressive neighbor while they were down. After all, they had (thanks to ComStar) fifteen years before the Clans got any closer to those worlds.
However, she also knew that Hanse Davion’s public schedule for visiting Robinson and half a dozen other worlds was comparatively lackadaisical. Six hours of meetings a day, with preparation time factored in and very few days off other than while traveling was more than a full-time job… but it wasn’t as much as he might have done ten years ago.
With Takashi’s death, the First Prince was left as the oldest of the Successor Lords and House Davion wasn’t known for the exceptional longevity of House Kurita. It was possible that Hanse Davion was up to something more than appeared on the surface… but it was also possible that his health wasn’t up to carrying out his regular duties and a busy international conference at the same time.
“I appreciate the efforts that you and your husband are making to keep your vassals from acting impetuously,” the young Coordinator said quietly. “I promised your son that I would do all I could to give you peace with the Combine while I reign. I do not offer my word often or lightly.”
Melissa nodded. “That does nothing to change the long and bloody history between our peoples. However, I don’t believe you to be a fool who would destroy his nation by abusing the trust we’re able to extend.”
He nodded and then turned to Wei. “I understand that so long as the Clans remain above the Camlann line, that the ComGuards are unlikely to be committed to fight them again?”
“That’s correct, Lord Kurita.” They’d done what they could and she had no intention of bleeding the ComGuards out like that again if there were any better choices. Precentor-Martial Focht had provided updated options for incorporating captured Clan warriors into the ComGuards - it was something they were culturally prepared for, but at the same time they would need extensive re-education to deal with the radically different cultures of the Inner Sphere. Keeping them cooped up except when they were needed to fight would be little more than military slavery, and that wasn’t something Wei could stomach. If they were going to fight for ComStar then she’d give them the same rights as any ComGuard… as soon as they were safe to exercise them.
Minoru used his chopsticks to pick up another dumpling. “However, would you be willing to station your forces along our shared border? Since Camlannn, ComStar’s reputation is higher than it has been for some time. If you were guaranteeing the ceasefire between us - with ComGuards units ready to deploy to enforce that - then it might calm tempers along the border.”
Wei considered the discussion of deployments she’d had with Focht and wished he was here for the meeting, rather than in conference with other soldiers. Still, he was here on Liao and available to consult today. “How would you feel about that, Archon?”
Picking up her chopsticks again, Melissa lifted a slice of pork from her plate and lightly shook off some of the sauce. “I believe that would be a reassurance to parts of the Skye and Draconis Marches where we have little more than militia facing DCMS Regulars.”
“I think you underrate your March Militias,” observed Minoru with an air of reproach. “If I remove the remaining Regulars then my ability to restrain local nobles would be limited. I think we all know that would end poorly.” He bit off half a dumpling once he’d finished speaking.
“Perceptions of that may matter more than an objective view of the balance of forces,” the Archon told him.
The young man chewed on the dumpling. “I believe a number of nobles could be persuaded to lead their retinues to reinforce the Clan border,” he suggested. “To a degree these can now be replaced by small mercenary units contracted directly with the Combine, and if ComStar is guaranteeing the peace then sharing the exact contract terms might offer some reassurance.”
“A one to one replacement with mercenaries would be excessive if you are relying on the ComGuards for security. Assuming that you are willing, Primus?”
“I can’t offer any specifics,” Wei cautioned. “But in principle, I believe basing Level III units at several strategically placed HPG stations along the border would be possible. I will need to confer with the Precentor Martial before committing to anything.”
Minoru nodded, holding up the other half of his dumpling. “I would be willing to replace local retinues at a level of perhaps one-third to one-half,” he offered the Archon, “Assuming that the Primus is favorably inclined once she’s discussed this with her advisors.”
“We can discuss the matter further then,” Melissa confirmed. “It’s enough for today that we all agree that the idea has merits.”
Wei scooped up some rice, chewed on it and swallowed. Since neither of the others were speaking, she supposed it was her chance to bring up a new subject. “Moving to another matter, Archon. One that may be of interest to your husband.”
“Oh?” she asked curiously.
“ComStar has two enclaves within the Federated Commonwealth’s borders that have been isolated for some time,” Wei explained delicately. “The worlds in question were abandoned by their inhabitants during the Succession Wars and resettled later on. Until recently, their governments preferred to remain isolated as refugees from the Succession Wars.”
Melissa arched an eyebrow. “Even abandoned worlds aren’t necessarily given up in terms of territorial claims.”
Wei shrugged. “That’s true. And territorial disputes are something they’ve wished to avoid. But the circumstances have changed.” Both rulers looked at her curiously and Wei lifted her tea cup, moistening her throat before continuing: “The world of Taussen wishes to remain under ComStar protection as one of our enclaves, but they also wish to contribute to the efforts against the Clans. On this basis, we will be restoring their location to our publicly available navigational databases.”
“And if the former owners of that world wish to exert their claims?” asked Minoru quietly.
She smiled but did not address the question directly. “Obeedah’s government, on the other hand, has decided that they no longer wish to remain under ComStar’s protection. As such, we will be withdrawing our presence. As it is no longer a ComStar enclave, the disposition of the world isn’t our business.”
Melissa picked up her own tea-cup. “I understand. I confess that I do not know of any worlds by those names, current or previously.”
“Ah,” Wei turned her cup in her hands. “Taussen was once known as Agmond. The nearest inhabited world is Bonneau, in the Point Barrow region.”
“Directly in the heart of the Federated Suns?” the Archon noted. “And Obidiah?”
“Obeedah,” she corrected lightly, “Was previously known as Gahral - a border world that once belonged to the Capellan Confederation. Its position is quite near to the currently contested border between the St Ives Compact and the Capellan Confederation. Most maps would place it within the Federated Commonwealth but I believe it changed hands several times in the early Succession Wars, contributing to the devastation of the original settlements. ”
“Yes, of course.” Melissa paused. “I cannot speak for the First Prince in this. The Federated Commonwealth is an alliance, not yet a formal union. If he wishes to push for whatever claims we have for these worlds then I doubt I would persuade him, even if I decide that that is wise.”
“I believe the consequences of violating a ComStar enclave are well known,” Wei said in a neutral voice. “This would, of course, apply only to Taussen. We have made it clear to Obeedah’s leadership of the consequences of their choices and they have accepted them. ComStar’s presence is being removed - including the HPG station.”
“Even the HPG?” asked Minoru, voice betraying surprise.
“Yes. The services ComStar offers are a matter of treaty. Since Obeedah has chosen not to enter into such treaties, they will be without them.” And the DRUM commandos who had seized control of the HPG station had been able to approach under the cover of the troop movements following Camlann. A single Level III of the regular ComGuards had followed the attack in and taken custody of the previous government.
As Wei said, they had been warned of the consequences of breaking with ComStar. If Thomas Marik - the real one, not the Captain-General - and his coterie thought their rebellion would be ignored then they had been mistaken. Razing the HPG station to the lowest basement was the best way to ensure nothing was salvaged by whoever took control of the world in the future.
“Are there any such worlds in the Draconis Combine?” the Coordinator enquired, his voice a little colder. A little more worried.
“None that I am aware of,” Wei assured him. She was even telling the truth… now. It was convenient that the exception to that answer had destroyed themselves through research into biological weapons.
He nodded slowly.
“I must say that I didn’t expect such a revelation,” Melissa noted, taking up some of the noodles that her pork was served. “Do you have any more surprises for me?” Then she lowered the chopsticks, seeing some clue in Wei’s face.
“Recently, while surveying for damaged warships that can be recovered and repaired,” said Wei, “Some of my people found such a vessel - but rather than one of the old SLDF or Rim Worlds vessels they expected, it is a veteran of the Lyran navy. We make no claim to own the ship - currently it is undergoing some repairs and I will have it delivered to a star system of your choice once it is mobile.”
Melissa chuckled lightly. “Primus, are you trying to bribe me into ignoring the Agmond situation?”
“Not at all. I cannot bribe you with your own property,” Wei claimed and lifted her tea cup to sip from it. “Of course, if this would benefit the Federated Commonwealth’s warship programmes… Well, that is a sign of goodwill that I think that you and your husband will take into consideration.”
Given the current talks to facilitate aid and advice in preparing certain Federated Commonwealth shipyards to build the massive transit drives needed for a warship were far from reaching a conclusion, Wei was fairly sure that Melissa understood the implications. Right now, ComStar’s technical aid was significantly more valuable than one minor colony… particularly when another colony was up for grabs.
“Such generosity,” Minoru mused. “Dare I hope that you have found any warships that are the proper property of House Kurita?”
“Alas, no,” she told him. “But if you are interested in seeking help in restoring DCS Togura, I believe we still have SLDF records on how to maintain and repair vessels of her class.”
The Kurita nodded in satisfaction. The Togura had been left orbiting New Samarkand long ago, judged unfeasible to repair. Currently it was little more than an orbital museum, but it was also a potent symbol of the Combine’s one time ability to build a large fleet of such warships. Restoring it, perhaps even duplicating it, would be a significant mark of prestige for his reign.
The Free Worlds League and other realms might make requests for similar generosity, Wei thought. But if they did then the price would be concrete support for fighting the Clans. She was spending political capital, but at the same time she was disarming landmines left to her by her predecessors as Primus.
Silverdale, Alshain
Clan Smoke Jaguar Occupation Zone
29 May 3052
“I’m completely certain,” Natasha Kerensky told Karl Bourjon as the Wolf Khans took their seats next to the Ghost Bears in the council chamber, “That the original information said we’d be meeting in the palace.”
Ulric Kerensky hid a smile. He was similar sure,
“I do not believe that the palace is in a suitable condition for this meeting,” Bourjon replied. “We flew over it on our way here and I can confirm that it has been very thoroughly burned to the ground… ah, demolished.”
“Since Clan Smoke Jaguar has been so gracious as to offer their headquarters as the meeting place for the Grand Kurultai,” Ulric told them, making sure he was speaking loud enough to be heard across the room, “I am sure that they know the difference between the palace and the Palace Hotel.”
Theresa DelVillar grunted in agreement, looking less than amused. “So long as this building is not suddenly demolished while we are inside.”
“I am sure it has better fire protection than a building modeled on medieval Japan,” he told her, watching Leo Showers twitch out of the corner of his eyes. Whatever the former ilKhan said, the Watch was quite clear that the Kurita’s palace had been burned down by the resistance, with dozens of Smoke Jaguars killed in the blaze. Sarah Weaver had refused to be drawn on the point, stated that she had not been on Alshain at the time and had no first hand knowledge.
The appointed time was reached and holographic images began to appear. Unlike meetings during the invasion, many were attending from the Hall of Khans on Strana Mechty - holographic projectors overlaying the familiar marble of the council chamber over this hotel’s ballroom. The Smoke Jaguars had been careful to position the desks so that everyone was seated precisely in their corresponding positions. Ulric saw Barbara Sennet nod quietly to her saKhan, who was one of those that had returned to the Inner Sphere.
Kael Pershaw, who was still holding onto the position of Loremaster for the Grand Council despite Edmund Hoyt’s recovery, struck a gavel. “The Grand Council is hereby convened and I note to you that we are still under the Martial Code handed down by Nicholas Kerensky. We are at war, and we shall conduct our business as befits that circumstance.” The Jade Falcon looked around the room. “I note the absence of Clan Blood Spirit’s Khans.”
One more thing back to normal, Ulric thought. The Blood Spirits had rarely bothered to attend before Operation Revival and now that it was over, they had retreated again. Or perhaps it was more because of the Burrock Absorption. Karianna Schmitt might have done something precipitous if she’d had the time or been in the homeworlds, but she’d had no chance. Trade agreements with the Diamond Sharks had been cut off, but that would probably hurt the Blood Spirits far more than it did the Sharks.
Speaking of whom, Barbara Sennet rose to speak.
“Are you going to absorb another Clan?” Natasha asked loudly before the Diamond Shark could speak.
There were several frowns around the room at the jibe. It wasn’t that Clans hadn’t been absorbed before, but this had been so blatantly set up by the two Clans that more than a few khans had referred to it contemptuously as more of a ‘marriage’, implying Inner Sphere degeneracy on the part of the Sharks.
“We have no plans for that,” Bikendi Vewas answered drily, as Sennet considered the question solemnly. “However, if any Clan wishes to volunteer, I believe Galaxy Commander Enders is commanding Barbara’s escort today.”
There was uneasy laughter and Ulric frowned. Ace Enders’ notoriety had grown considerably since he managed to kill two Khans in a single trial. That level of martial prowess, combined with what appeared to be good strategic acumen, meant that it was extremely likely the young man would become Khan in the future. He’d asked Natasha to recount everything they’d discussed when she met the Diamond Shark on Luthien and he suspected that Ender’s drive would push the Diamond Sharks into the Crusader camp in ways Ian Hawker would have never managed. The dead Khan had wanted to emulate the Jade Falcons and Smoke Jaguars, but Enders would aim to put the Sharks’ own stamp on the movement.
Barbara Sennet straightened her double-breasted jacket. “Absent any takers,” she said after a moment’s pause, “I am here to inform the Grand Council of my Clan’s immediate military intentions.”
Ulric sat up straight. ‘Immediate’? The Ghost Bears, at least, didn’t seem surprised.
“Having reviewed the agreement made with ComStar, it is my position that while Operation Revival is formally over and we are pledged to remain corewards of the Camlann line, there is no requirement barring further operations above this line,” Sennet continued seriously. “Our intelligence indicates that the Draconis Combine has relocated industry and is working to make good their losses. We have lost the element of surprise that aided us two years ago, and our technological edge is also being reduced as new military hardware - and upgrade packages for existing hardware - is reaching the DCMS in quantities. By the end of the truce in 3066, the remaining DCMS regiments may be on a technical par with the forces of the ComGuards… and I have no doubt they will have improved the training of their warriors.”
“That seems unduly pessimistic,” Elias Crichell observed slowly, but the bombastic Khan sounded less confident than was his wont.
Vewas glanced across the chamber (and a thousand light years) to look at the Jade Falcons. “Perhaps, Khan Crichell. But the Federated Commonwealth have significantly more resources to direct towards preparing their even larger army so if we are correct about the threat of the DCMS then your problems are likely greater to some degree.” He made a dismissive gesture, as if to suggest that he would take that point no further.
Sennet nodded. “It is my intention to lead my touman to eliminate whatever Combine industrial and military capacity we can above the truce line. How far we can push such an advance, and how many of those worlds we will garrison is unclear but I am certain that it will be easier to do this now than in five, ten or fourteen years.”
Ulric glanced at Robin Steele, who frowned and then gave him a nod. With him overseeing the Occupation Zone, the Coyote Khan was playing an important role in revitalising the Warden cause in the Homeworlds.
“I disagree with that interpretation,” Ulric said firmly. “We agreed to halt our invasion so we should not be launching new attacks on the Inner Sphere while the truce endures.” Which realistically probably wouldn’t be the full fifteen years, but the longer it was, the better. He’d suspected that the Diamond Sharks would reach the same conclusion eventually, but he’d hoped they would be more interested in opening trade and co-existence rather than looking for another wave of conquests.
Leo Showers cleared his throat. “That is a very dubious position.”
“You’re an expert on those,” Natasha told him.
The Smoke Jaguar Khan looked as if he might get up and challenge Natasha but Sarah Weaver leant forwards. “I do not recall there being any explicit terms preventing us from taking any action above the truceline.”
“It is implicit in ending Operation Revival,” Ulric argued.
“Operation Revival was just that: an operation,” Sennet told him crisply. “It was a means of the invasion, it was not the invasion in and of itself. The Grand Council voted to approve an invasion separately from voting to accept and follow Operation Revival.”
As loosely as the Diamond Sharks had done that - most of their conquests in the last wave hadn’t even been within the invasion corridor they were supposed to be following, Ulric thought.
“If the matter is not explicit in the agreement, we are free to make our own decision on the matter,” Robin suggested. She leant her weight on the desk in front of her. “Vote on the matter and then we can move onto more pressing matters such as the Ice Hellions’ tantrum.”
“Tantrum?” Asa Taney protested angrily. He folded his arms. “I suppose words are all you can throw back at me after your Clan’s dismal response to our challenges.” Clan Ice Hellion’s string of challenges to secure resources from other Clans over the last year had mostly been rebuffed, marking them as having over-reached themselves. Unfortunately, the Coyote garrison on Londerholm had been considerably understrength and they’d been left in a humiliating position: the only reason the Hellions hadn’t pressed their advantage and seized part of the enclave there had been furious Smoke Jaguars bearing down on the Hellion dropships. No Coyote would ever appreciate being saved by the Smoke Jaguars, of all Clans.
“A vote seems reasonable,” Perigard Zalman interjected. “I second the motion.”
“Very well,” Pershaw agreed. “A vote of aye confirms the interpretation of Khan Sennet and a vote of nay backs Khan Kerensky - Ulric Kerensky, that is - in his interpretation. You may cast your votes.”
Ulric voted for his own position and then checked the other votes. Clan Cloud Cobra’s votes were with him, perhaps less out of any agreement and more to spite the Diamond Sharks’ decision to end the garrison agreement Clan Burrock had made over the Tanite worlds. Having to divert their forces to cover for the need was stretching the small Clan’s limited strength.
The Coyotes led a bloc of other Clans to back Ulric but, one at a time, the other invading Clans seemed to be putting their weight behind the Sennet. The Jaguars might despise the Sharks, but they were apparently open to widening the war. After a brief consultation, the Nova Cats and Jade Falcons voted together, and the Ghost Bears were evidently in on the matter.
The Steel Vipers’ decision to also support the Diamond Sharks was a surprise - despite their recent agreements, the two Clans weren’t close. It wasn’t enough though and even after the Hells Horses and Fire Mandrill votes split the outcome was sixteen to fourteen in Ulric’s favor.
“Close,” Natasha muttered. “Too close.”
Ulric nodded. The bulk of the Clans that weren’t involved in the invasion were waking up to the advantages held by those that were. But it wasn’t enough to just win the vote.
“Clan Diamond Shark calls for a Trial of Refusal,” Barbara Sennet informed them all the moment the outcome was clear. She probably wanted this over with before it affected the schedule for her invasion plans.
“That is your right,” confirmed Pershaw. “The forces committed would be at eight to seven.”
“I propose to commit a binary from my current escort,” she announced. “I will provide a breakdown for the Council by this evening.”
“It’ll be Enders,” Natasha said with certainty.
“Aff,” agreed Ulric. “And the odds are close enough that we’ll be sending at most eleven ‘mechs, or a slightly heavier binary.” The only Clans with forces present to be used to defend the vote were the Smoke Jaguars, or escort units… and the only khans present who had voted against the measure were he and Natasha. It would have to be Clan Wolf. “I want you to handle it personally.”
“...you do love me after all,” Natasha said brightly, but he saw a calculating light in her eyes.
Ace Ender’s meteoric rise was nettling at Natasha - she’d also been a ristar but not on that scale. It was good that she was motivated, because she was one of the only Wolves that Ulric thought would stand a chance against Enders - and the only one who was with him on Alshain. The man wasn’t invincible, but killing that many Khans could not be a coincidence. Perhaps in a year or two young Vladimir of the Wards would be on that level - unrepentant Crusader or not, the Star Commander was excellent - and Phelan also had enormous potential, but neither was quite ready.
“In the event that your refusal succeeds,” Zalman offered, looking over at Sennet and Vewas, “We have two Galaxies of forces in reach of your Occupation Zone.”
Ulric clenched his fists. The Vipers’ invasion force should be most of the way back to the homeworlds! They had nowhere to base from - were their warriors eating their own boots?! A moment later, the answer was obvious. They must have imitated the Diamond Sharks and seized a world in the Periphery just outside the Inner Sphere to use as a forward base. Waiting for an opportunity like this one.
However, to his surprise, Sennet shook her head, “That is generous Khan Zalman and if we find ourselves in need of reinforcements then I might be open to contracting your forces against the Draconis Combine. However, we have previously activated Clan Ghost Bear as our reserve Clan and it would be greedy to claim a second when one of the other Clans not to receive help might need you more.”
Natasha chuckled and Ulric glanced at her, then followed her eyes to Sarah Weaver.
“What possible cause,” the junior Smoke Jaguar grated, “Would we have to call for a reserve when the invasion is stalled?”
“Fire safety?” suggested Vewas innocently.
Sennet shook her head slightly, warning her saKhan to shut up. Which was probably wise as she was the only Diamond Shark physically in the chamber with the two Smoke Jaguars. “We have an influx of new warriors who need to be blooded, so for now we will rely on our own Clusters. Clan Ghost Bear has found their supply lines under repeated attack,” she continued. “We have agreed to open supply routes through our occupation zone and Khan Bourjon will assign warriors to protect them, to make sure that shipments reach the Ghost Bears.”
Karl Bourjon rose to his feet. “We are sworn to ensure that no hostile force endangers Clan Diamond Sharks’ supply lines - any force entering their Occupation Zone that may be targeting the supplies of either of our Clans will be treated as an immediate threat,” he warned, with a grim look towards Leo Showers.
It seems that Showers’ attempts to rebuild his forces at the expense of the Ghost Bear’s supply lines have been cut short, Ulric noted. That’s one good thing out of this - now if Natasha can just win…
He would like to think that it was assured that the Wolves would overcome any force comparable in numbers… but after the Trial of Absorption, he was done underestimating Natasha’s opponent.
“Do you think that the Diamond Sharks can destroy the Draconis Combine alone?” demanded Leo Showers. Perhaps he too had had visions of joining this attack.
In response, the Diamond Shark khan smiled coolly. “Destruction is a means, not an end, Khan Showers. Our goal is conquest, and some Clans are clearly better partners than others for such an endeavor.”
-
Silverdale Flats, Alshain
Clan Smoke Jaguar Occupation Zone
1 June 3052
The Silverdale Flats were a rare case, for Alshain’s mountainous continents, of relatively level ground near a city that hadn’t been developed. Ace wasn’t sure why it hadn’t been, but the Smoke Jaguars had decided that the two steep ridges either side of the area, as well as the peak the ridges converged into, would become their new headquarters - digging into the mountain at the same time they re-shapted it to resemble the head and paws of their totem feline.
As a result, the area was still dotted with hastily abandoned construction supplies - the actual equipment had been removed but there was no time to remove piles of spoil, stacks of support girders and many more heaps of mysteriously wrapped sacks or pallets of crates.
The entire area was too small for the sort of hunting that Ace had dealt with on Camalnn. The Wolves and Diamond Sharks knew where they were, where the enemies were, and they closed in unhesitatingly - albeit with a certain amount of ‘testing their weapons’ on the supplies by the Wolf mechwarriors.
It was ten on ten, but Clan Wolf had a weight advantage - the core of their force was Timber Wolves while half of Ace’s Diamond Sharks were in Mad Dogs. The Wolves had two Gargoyles to Ace’s one, but there was nothing heavier on either side of the trial. Nor anything lighter than the Huntsman.
They swept into range of each other and weapons fire lanced out, each picking an enemy ‘mech to duel - neither side was ready to discard zellbrigen yet.
One of the leading Timber Wolves had decorated the wolfshead badge of the mechwarriors clan with eight jointed legs, marking it as the Khan’s. Natasha Kerensky preferred an unusual configuration that had no missiles, making the Huntsman’s antimissile system irrelevant as she opened the battle with a pair of PPC shots, one of which struck home as the lighter ‘mech dodged wildly and returned fire with its own PPCs.
Ace saw the particle beams he’d fired hitting home on the left side - one bird-like leg shedding armor plating, a hit higher up scoring deeply into the side of his opponent. The Timber Wolf almost stumbled but the pilot kept it under control despite the hit coming close to the cockpit.
The Huntsman tried to keep the range open by using its jump jets to hop back behind a pile of spoil, but the Timber Wolf lashed out again, blowing great chunks out of the smaller ‘mech’s chest with devastating accuracy. It closed in, edging to one side to circle the spoils.
Firing back at his opponent, Ace kept his balance and faded back to his left, catching the Wolf mechwarrior off guard. Both his PPCs hit the Timber Wolf’s right shoulder, breaching the armor. It didn’t sever the arm, but sparking made it clear that the secondary armament mounted there was out of action.
Seventy-five tons of OmniMech crashed through a prefab worker’s cabin, catching the medium Diamond Shark as it tried to reach cover behind a stack of concrete slabs. It was in time that one of the Wolf Khan’s shots blasted four such slabs apart, but not in time to avoid the other shot.
The PPC bolt smashed into the Huntsman’s cockpit with deadly force.
Ace felt his teeth snap together as Star Commander Tomori was killed right in front of him. He hadn’t exactly been playing around, but there was a burning anger in his chest as he caught the Timber Wolf he was fighting right in the left leg with both the PPCs in his new Gargoyle. He’d specifically requested Tomori for his command and she’d barely arrived from the homeworlds in time to join the honor guard.
And now she’d been killed with almost contemptuous ease.
The Timber Wolf he was fighting went down hard, the limb severed by Ace’s PPCs and then he brought the Gargoyle around to engage Kerensky. Objectively he knew that the assault ‘mech was as fast and agile as mechs twenty tons lighter… but it still felt impossibly slow and cumbersome.
Four Diamond Sharks were down, including Tomori, and only three of the Wolves were out of action so far.
Duelling be damned, Ace decided and he fired both his PPCs into the back of a Hellbringer that was engaged against one of the Diamond Shark Mad Dogs.
Both shots drilled into the unsuspecting Wolf and fire erupted from what was evidently the missiles stored for use by the launchers in the omnimech’s right shoulder. With its torso half-gutted, the right arm’s gauss rifle was useless.
“Zell is broken!” Natasha Kerensky shouted across a general channel. Her Timber Wolf - if it was hers - went for the nearest pair of duelling mechwarriors, the massive autocannon mounted above her ‘mech’s shoulder spinning up.
Ace let her lead with her PPCs, knowing that the autocannon was out of range. The Black Widow’s shots hammered into the Diamond Shark Summoner, but the Wolf Gargoyle it had been facing was still adjusting to having to worry about other threats and was too slow to realize that they too had their back to Ace. Heat bloomed as particle beams ripped into its thin rear armor and savaged the reactor plating. It wasn’t a mission kill, but it was already running hot with an all energy weapon configuration that had fewer heatsinks than Ace had fitted to his own.
The Summoner’s pilot charged in close with the Gargoyle, using it as cover against the Black Widow and firing everything it had into the overheating ‘mech. Firing directly past the limbs of her own warrior’s mech, Natasha Kerensky raked the Diamond Shark with fire just a fraction too late and a pair of canopies erupted as both mechwarriors ejected.
Kerensky turned towards Ace but his own PPCs were already firing again, heat building as he fired each shot as rapidly as the weapons cycled.
The two shots played along the length of the autocannon, static electricity playing visibly across the multi-barreled weapon, armor melting away under the hideous energy transfer. The autocannon’s barrels stopped spinning, locked in place by the damage.
Kerensky was running hot already, the autocannon’s heat added to the PPCs more than the Timber Wolf could readily dissipate. She held the left arm PPC in reserve for a moment, letting it cool, but the PPC in her Timber Wolf’s right arm drove a spike of charged energy squarely into the chest of Ace’s Gargoyle.
Diamond Sharks omnimechs were dropping like flies as ‘mechs combined their fire on whatever seemed most likely to die, but the Wolves were almost as badly off.
Ace feigned a skitter sideways, guessing that Kerensky would read the move, and then jumped the Gargoyle vertically instead. Despite the misdirection, she managed to hit him again, blasting almost a ton of armor from the assault ‘mech’s left leg.
In exchange, at the height of the jump, Ace managed to catch a Wolf Mad Dog about to tear the back off one of the last Diamond Shark Mad Dogs. One of his PPCs missed entirely, but the other struck the Wolf’s cockpit, doing to him what Kerensky had done to Tomori.
Before Ace reached the ground, the Diamond Shark had to eject from his own Mad Dog, but not before taking the leg off the Summoner it had been fighting.
Kerensky had been able to guess Ace’s landing zone and both her PPCs hit home as he tried to get behind more spoil. The large feet of the Gargoyle dug in deeper than he’d expected and he wished for a Huntsman or Stormcrow that would handle the soft footing better.
But wishing wouldn’t change much and he fired back, only for her to side-step expertly.
Damn, that old woman was every bit as good as the stories she’d told of her decades fighting in the Inner Sphere suggested.
Then Kerensky half-turned her ‘mech, exploiting the charging cycle of Ace’s PPCs and her own PPCs smashed through both the Gauss Rifles of the one remaining Mad Dog on the battlefield. The two weapons disintegrated as their capacitors exploded and tore the sides off the Diamond Shark.
There were only two ‘mechs left - Ace’s Gargoyle and Kerensky’s Timber Wolf.
“I figured you’d be in the Huntsman,” the Wolf Khan observed as she backed up, still shielding the damaged flank of her ‘mech from Ace. “That is you, Enders?”
Ace fired his PPCs over the spoil and ducked behind cover before seeing if the shots hit. “Aff.”
“Ulric pilots a Gargoyle too. How do you like it?” The old woman’s voice was conversational.
“As much as only a surat blames his tools for his own failings… it is no advertisement for Clan Wolf’s workmanship.”
She laughed. “I’m sure our technicians will feel that burn.”
The two ‘mechs came into view again - Kerensky had been waiting for Ace to come out of cover, but he had been expecting her to do that and so they exchanged fire as one - the PPC beams crossing each other in the air.
Neither missed and armor plating blasted off each ‘mech as they danced evasively. Ace triggered the ejection of his anti-missile system’s ammunition and saw Kerensky ridding herself of rounds for the wrecked autocannon.
She had a pair of lasers mounted below and to the left of her cockpit and tried to get into effective range to use them. Ace tried to keep ahead of her but again he found the Gargoyle wasn’t quite responsive enough to avoid it.
Fortunately, the Wolf only fired one of her PPCs with the laser - cooling herself off, Ace realised. Her Timber Wolf had a similar amount of omni-space to him, but she’d chosen to add a heavy autocannon rather than jump jets and heatsinks. She was probably struggling more with controlling the temperatures built up by a pair of PPCs.
That didn’t stop the laser digging deep into the Gargoyle’s hide, even if Ace had managed to stay just a hair out of the line carved through the air by the PPC. There was more orange and red on its armor display than yellow or green.
Ace ducked and weaved, but Kerensky’s shots homed in as if they were tracking like missiles, both tearing into the Gargoyle’s right leg, sending him staggering. One of his PPC shots missed entirely as he went off balance and the last struck the armor to the left of her cockpit.
Gritting his teeth, Ace flared the jump jets he’d fitted to reverse his momentum and fired again before Kerensky, with her more modest cooling system, did. Both particle beams converged over the enemy Khan’s cockpit but she was already flinging up the left arm of her Timber Wolf. Both beams bit into the cylindrical weapons pod and almost vaporised the PPC there, spreading the armor glass of her cockpit with debris.
Her remaining PPC flashed and cracked the Gargoyle’s left knee.
Ace felt the assault ‘mech slow further and leapt, jump-jets flaring as he tried to throw the ‘mech behind a stack of crates, hoping they would screen the damaged legs.
PPCs flared again as Natasha gave chase.
Only two of the three PPCs firing struck home.
One of Ace’s PPCs blew apart what remained of Natasha’s useless autocannon.
And the Wolf Khan blew through the lower left thigh, shattering structural bones and tearing away myomers. The lower leg fell away, crashing down on top of the crates.
The leg that remained, already damaged, couldn’t possibly absorb the full impact of almost eighty tons of ‘mech hitting the ground.
Ace jammed his heels down, venting the propellant held back to control his descent, but keeping himself hanging in the air for a few precious seconds more.
The Timber Wolf kept running for three more strides, remaining weapons already focusing in on the Ace’s landing zone. And critically, not raised towards where the Gargoyle hung in the sky.
Zeroing in both PPCs, Ace fired both PPCs a fraction of a second before the last fumes of plasma rushed out of the jumpjets.
One beam slashed down just ahead of the Timber Wolf’s nose, as Kerensky realised what was happening.
The second was aimed just behind the other, and it struck squarely on the already damaged hatch above Natasha Kerensky’s head.
No recording would ever back up Ace’s recollection of two last words from Natasha Kerensky. Then again, as he ejected rather than ride the damaged Gargoyle into a crash, neither mech’s comm systems would survive.
“Nice move,” he thought he heard as he erupted up out of the cockpit, propelled by his own seat.
There was another violent shock as his parachute emerged at the apex of his flight and bit at the air to slow his descent. Then a third impact as he landed on top of a stack of concrete slabs, going sprawling and almost tangled in his own parachute cords before he found the release strap and severed himself from them.
He was still wearing his helmet, and through the speakers he heard the voice of Kael Pershaw. “By the virtue of having the last operable ‘mech on the field, if barely, the victory goes to Clan Diamond Shark. The Council’s vote has been successfully refused and Khan Sennet’s interpretation of the Camlann agreement is confirmed.”
The lights and sirens of rescue vehicles marked their approach, a chance of life for those who had survived the loss of their ‘mechs.
Ace wrenched his helmet off and stared up at the sky. It was beginning to rain, water washing smoke out of the sky. “Keep swimming,” he whispered.
This concludes Book 2: House of Cards
Opalescent Reflections will continue in
Stacking the Deck
[/s]
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And that's an ending!
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Mmmmm, nice ending indeed for book 2, but I feel that you're giving your main character a tad bit too much plot armor, drakensis.
While yes, Ace is a very veteran mechwarrior, him managing to finish off the Black Widow like that ... not only the last shots but the whole duel, seems a tad bit OP from Ace to me...
I expected to have this Trial end with Ace losing his mech but his force winning the day, not him being the last man standing with a "barely fight capable mech". Some humiliation in a clan mech fight for the MC is direly needed in my opinion.
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I have to agree.
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Mmmmm, nice ending indeed for book 2, but I feel that you're giving your main character a tad bit too much plot armor, drakensis.
While yes, Ace is a very veteran mechwarrior, him managing to finish off the Black Widow like that ... not only the last shots but the whole duel, seems a tad bit OP from Ace to me...
I expected to have this Trial end with Ace losing his mech but his force winning the day, not him being the last man standing with a "barely fight capable mech". Some humiliation in a clan mech fight for the MC is direly needed in my opinion.
I don't think I'm in disagreement here. There's two main characters in this story, Wei and Ace, and while Ace has faced some political adversity early on, he's generally become an unstoppable force of nature at this point in the story, whereas Wei is still encountering realistic limitations on what she can and can't do.
Also, Ace, fairly or not, seems to be nearly a one-trick pony in a BattleMech: he killz his enemies by unfailingly taking out their cockpits, whether through ERPPC headshots or the rare DFA he used against Takashi. At this point, any time Ace goes into combat, the assumption I have as a reader is that he's either going to win, he's going to kill at least one opponent through a headshot, any allies with him will get bloodied, and his own 'Mech will get dinged up. This time it's the Black Widow who, in canon, died to what was essentially an unexpected act of defiance by a downed Mechwarrior that then required a new "rule of cool" be added to allow it to occur.
When I find Ace interesting as a character is when he does something unexpected, like win a battle, or at least not lose one, by not fighting. It's when he does things counter to the usual Clan way and succeeds that are interesting.
I don't know...maybe part of it is seeing so many Inner Sphere canon characters who go up against the Sharks in general or Ace in particular die offhandedly, sometimes even off-screen, that it's also wearing on me.
I mean...Hohiro Kurita committing seppeku as form of bondsref? OK, vaguely believable, despite him being imprisoned in canon and then rescued.
Morgan Kell dying to a frakking tarp after an artillery barrage triggers his ejector seat while his Archer is open for reloading? OK, that's nuts, but it's the kind of crazy thing that sometimes happens in war.
Theodore Kurita and Tomoe Sakade? Die offscreen, after getting a fatalistic sendoff when they board Theodore's 'Mech. Jamie Wolf? Dies. Offscreen. Takashi Kurita? DFA by Ace. Natasha Kerensky? Boom headshot by Ace, like nearly every other kill he makes.
Ace's major defeats? Allowing Hohiro to bondsref because he didn't know who he really had taken prisoner. Allowing Omi and Victor to rescue people from Luthien, because he didn't have the necessary forces in the right place, which weren't really 'Mech forces anyway, to stop their DropShips. Had he been in a cockpit in the field at the time earlier in the raid, he'd have added Victor and Kai to his collection of kills, too. And, yet, this loss doesn't hurt him politically, either.
I just...Im still enjoying Wei as Primus, as she tries to keep the Inner Sphere from asploding, just so she has the option of actually retiring one day and not having to worry about it. I'm enjoying the challenges she's facing, that things don't always go her way, that she adapts, and that, despite it all, she has some degree of humility, and recognizes her enormous level of privilege, especially after Camlaan, which has really shaken her to her core.
Ace, though? Not so much, because he's stretched my suspension of disbelief to the breaking point.
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Fourth khan kill for Ace, one more until he is an ace of khans. I was kind of hoping for a humbling though, too many victories by the skin of his teeth.
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I tend to agree about Ace. He´s getting too good. He needs to suffer some setbacks.
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There are a number of good points being made.
I'm certainly not going to say that this has been as well executed as it could have been.
However, some of what you're noticing is intentional.
Ace's arc in the story parallels Clan Diamond Shark's arc. Ace is an almost unparalleled killer, who has clawed himself up to the top of the heap, just as Clan Diamond Shark is now arguably the most powerful Clan. Ace beat Natasha, the old master warrior - barely - and in so doing Clan Diamond Shark scrapes a political victory over the previous alpha-Clan. And... what has got either of them? Where do they go from here? Do they just... keep killing? If not... then what? Where do they go from here?
I'm sorry I clearly haven't conveyed this well enough.
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I get the points about Ace. But to me it's balanced out by Wei Rong and Minoru. To me, Ace has moved from a protagonist I want to identify with to basically a force of nature, that characters like Wei and Minoru have to work to contain, survive or otherwise interact with. It feels a bit like book 1 was about Wei and Ace trying their best to shake the story loose from canon, book 2 was about Ace becoming the personified Clan Invasion: neigh unstoppable, wrecking everything before him. This pushes the rest of the cast somewhat in the background, but makes them all the more interesting to me. Again, Minoru especially is someone that catches my imagination towards the end of the second part.
I'm looking forward what you have in store for us for book 3, Drakensis.
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@Gorgon
In going with the way you've identified Ace with the Clan Invasion, I think now you're going to see his apparent unstoppable nature shift, much like the invasion itself has been stopped. Obviously he had to win this trial, and yes he could have won it a different way, or else you've got the next story being solely about the Clans dealing with raids or insurrections, but not much of anything else as they'd be constrained in not continuing with the fighting. Now the Sharks honestly have to deal with conquest, what that actually means. The time they've spent has been an eyeblink, and based entirely on a shock attack. The Sharks are taking more steps than the other clans in what the future is going to require, but I'm excited to see just what happens from here on out.
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And the remaining Dragoons are heading for the Clan front. There may even be a rematch with the Sharks in the cards, if the Falcons and Nova Cats keep take longer to gear up for a renewed attack against the FedCom.
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I tend to agree about Ace. He´s getting too good. He needs to suffer some setbacks.
I think the most natural setbacks would be the consequences of his successes.
Khan Sennet has used him as a hitman or deadly weapon. Other Khans will now see his near presence as an implied threat. Now Khan Sennet can lock him into a specific rank/location, that he is close enough to be used, but distant enough that other Khans would not risk killing Sennet, for that could create a Khan Enders.
For the Inner Sphere he is also a bit too dangerous, if he is identified on a battlefield them he will be the primary target for artillery and focused fire. This is going to give him a lot of injuries and effectively keep him out of most of the battle. This could eventually push him into a purely command role.
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This last chapter Kind of poured a good bit of cold water on this story.
I don't have an issue with Ace offing Nasty with a whole lot of luck and slipping through. It happened to gunslingers all the time, war can have the most elite of the elite fall to a conscript.
No my issue is that Ace broke Zellbrigen, the issue isn't that he was wrong or out of character, it should of never had been his to break!
Natasha Kersensky the 'Black Widow' one who laughs at the conventions of war, one who in the OTL didn't have to order her troops to team up against targets they knew to do so as members of the her 13th Wolf Guards. Nasty who would do what it took to win regardless of scorn from the crusaders. You have her approach the trail so conventionally she might as well be a Green Pigeon! No ok lets alpha strike the three biggest mechs, recharge and take down the next three. No having Ace wonder why there is only nine mechs as two Wolf aerospace fighters coat his binary in inferno bombs so that those nine can at their leisure take down the Sharks. Ulric and Natasha discuss just how important it is for the Wolves to win this trail, how not to underestimate their foes and they go in without guile (which they are know for), without an 'ace' up their sleeves (what the Dragoons are famous for) no just a bit heavier then his unit which again goes a bit against the wolves who stay mobile and keep their mechs in the 'operational' status. Natasha would of thrown Zellbrigen out the window with the first shot, the goal was defeating the Sharks, if they took down Ace would be a Bonus, but as important as a battle as this was that they play it like hidebound crusaders shatters credulity to me.
It is like the following clip in which Marv Albert is saying just how the wolves are fighting:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DgZC4Hlq39I
I mean if he has to maintain his 'legend killer' status have him concede the trail and then challenge Natasha for pride, vengeance, death of a friend. The Sharks lose but Ace wins...
Think this is a one off and have enjoyed the story so far, regardless thank you for the time, effort and skill you put in every story.
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I think Ace has simply embraced the odds of the game. 12s happen, so he carries head cappers. I get him, despite my long disklike for anything clanner. My Blazer Cannon fanaticism is based on the same math! ;D
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I've read enough of drakensis' stories to have faith in the story. But let's put him up against Kai :evil:
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I'd give him even odds against Kai... he ALSO acknowledges the math of the game... ;)
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I accept your batchall.
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Coin flip it is! :D
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Kai will lose. No question. I think drakensis is the best Battletech fanfiction writer on the site, but part of that is that his character's always overperform. If Stackpole was writing the duel, Kai would absolutely win because it's his character. But Ace is drakensis' character, so he will win.
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No my issue is that Ace broke Zellbrigen, the issue isn't that he was wrong or out of character, it should of never had been his to break!
Natasha Kersensky the 'Black Widow' one who laughs at the conventions of war, one who in the OTL didn't have to order her troops to team up against targets they knew to do so as members of the her 13th Wolf Guards.
I disagree on that part. Natasha didn´t break the rules for the sake of breaking rules, nor for mere shit and giggles. She broke the rules when that was the way to success.
In that trial, with even numbers and a mass advantage on her side, her forces had an advantage in duels; it was in her best interest maintain that advantage, by sticking to zell protocol, for as long as possible.
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Based on feedback and after careful thought, I have decided to make some changes to the latest chapter. This is currently with my pre-readers.
I'm not doing this because of public opinion over some of the decisions made in writing this (and I don't plan to make a habit of doing this), but based off some of the incisive and courteous criticisms, I believe I can do better.
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Opalescent Reflections
House of Cards
Chapter 14
Chang-an, Liao
Sarna March, Lyran Commonwealth
14 January 3052
For reasons that would probably be analyzed in detail later for the First Circuit, neither faction of House Liao had approached ComStar to mediate their conflict. Instead the representatives of Kai and Romano Liao had agreed on Thomas Marik.
While the implications of looking for a neutral party other than ComStar might prove alarming, Wei was perfectly happy to leave that particular argument to the Captain-General of the Free Worlds League. For one thing, she didn’t get the impression that either side was willing to compromise. And the League’s neutrality would be important - if the Chancellor convinced Thomas Marik to help her against her nephew, that would almost certainly force intervention by the Federated Commonwealth… and whichever way the Draconis Combine picked to side with, the consequences would be bad.
So long as it was just the two nations ruled by House Liao fighting, the situation was relatively contained and that was… well, Wei didn’t consider it good, but perhaps least bad.
With the Captain-General and the Capellans talking privately, Wei was dining with the two combatant powers’… the other two combatant powers’ representatives. Rasalhague could no longer be counted - General Mansdottir was rebuilding what remained of the Kungsarme into the 1st Tyr, the last brigade they had and ironically one that he had only formed as a rallying point for militia and volunteers fighting alongside the regular regiments. But they were little more than a mercenary unit fighting for the Combine now.
The three of them occupied one of the smaller dining rooms, served from what were - of course - literally royal kitchens. The roast duck and rice in front of Wei were the best she’d ever had, and it didn’t seem as if Minoru Kurita was likely to complain about the vegetarian dumplings he’d requested. Melissa Steiner-Davion was picking at the pork ribs she’d been served but it didn’t seem likely that that was a complaint about the dish.
“Are you missing your husband?” Wei asked. “I’m a little surprised he didn’t attend.”
“It shows?” the Archon asked, with no real surprise. She put down the chopsticks she used with surprising facility. “I suppose it does. We spent the invasion with him on New Avalon and myself on Tharkad. It would have been nice to be together here, we have some happy memories of Liao. Unfortunately, there’s enough friction in the Draconis March that visiting Robinson seemed necessary.”
Wei hid a frown. It was true that many worlds bordering the Draconis Combine were increasingly wondering why they weren’t taking the opportunity to kick their aggressive neighbor while they were down. After all, they had (thanks to ComStar) fifteen years before the Clans got any closer to those worlds.
However, she also knew that Hanse Davion’s public schedule for visiting Robinson and half a dozen other worlds was comparatively lackadaisical. Six hours of meetings a day, with preparation time factored in and very few days off other than while traveling was more than a full-time job… but it wasn’t as much as he might have done ten years ago.
With Takashi’s death, the First Prince was left as the oldest of the Successor Lords and House Davion wasn’t known for the exceptional longevity of House Kurita. It was possible that Hanse Davion was up to something more than appeared on the surface… but it was also possible that his health wasn’t up to carrying out his regular duties and a busy international conference at the same time.
“I appreciate the efforts that you and your husband are making to keep your vassals from acting impetuously,” the young Coordinator said quietly. “I promised your son that I would do all I could to give you peace with the Combine while I reign. I do not offer my word often or lightly.”
Melissa nodded. “That does nothing to change the long and bloody history between our peoples. However, I don’t believe you to be a fool who would destroy his nation by abusing the trust we’re able to extend.”
He nodded and then turned to Wei. “I understand that so long as the Clans remain above the Camlann line, that the ComGuards are unlikely to be committed to fight them again?”
“That’s correct, Lord Kurita.” They’d done what they could and she had no intention of bleeding the ComGuards out like that again if there were any better choices. Precentor-Martial Focht had provided updated options for incorporating captured Clan warriors into the ComGuards - it was something they were culturally prepared for, but at the same time they would need extensive re-education to deal with the radically different cultures of the Inner Sphere. Keeping them cooped up except when they were needed to fight would be little more than military slavery, and that wasn’t something Wei could stomach. If they were going to fight for ComStar then she’d give them the same rights as any ComGuard… as soon as they were safe to exercise them.
Minoru used his chopsticks to pick up another dumpling. “However, would you be willing to station your forces along our shared border? Since Camlannn, ComStar’s reputation is higher than it has been for some time. If you were guaranteeing the ceasefire between us - with ComGuards units ready to deploy to enforce that - then it might calm tempers along the border.”
Wei considered the discussion of deployments she’d had with Focht and wished he was here for the meeting, rather than in conference with other soldiers. Still, he was here on Liao and available to consult today. “How would you feel about that, Archon?”
Picking up her chopsticks again, Melissa lifted a slice of pork from her plate and lightly shook off some of the sauce. “I believe that would be a reassurance to parts of the Skye and Draconis Marches where we have little more than militia facing DCMS Regulars.”
“I think you underrate your March Militias,” observed Minoru with an air of reproach. “If I remove the remaining Regulars then my ability to restrain local nobles would be limited. I think we all know that would end poorly.” He bit off half a dumpling once he’d finished speaking.
“Perceptions of that may matter more than an objective view of the balance of forces,” the Archon told him.
The young man chewed on the dumpling. “I believe a number of nobles could be persuaded to lead their retinues to reinforce the Clan border,” he suggested. “To a degree these can now be replaced by small mercenary units contracted directly with the Combine, and if ComStar is guaranteeing the peace then sharing the exact contract terms might offer some reassurance.”
“A one to one replacement with mercenaries would be excessive if you are relying on the ComGuards for security. Assuming that you are willing, Primus?”
“I can’t offer any specifics,” Wei cautioned. “But in principle, I believe basing Level III units at several strategically placed HPG stations along the border would be possible. I will need to confer with the Precentor Martial before committing to anything.”
Minoru nodded, holding up the other half of his dumpling. “I would be willing to replace local retinues at a level of perhaps one-third to one-half,” he offered the Archon, “Assuming that the Primus is favorably inclined once she’s discussed this with her advisors.”
“We can discuss the matter further then,” Melissa confirmed. “It’s enough for today that we all agree that the idea has merits.”
Wei scooped up some rice, chewed on it and swallowed. Since neither of the others were speaking, she supposed it was her chance to bring up a new subject. “Moving to another matter, Archon. One that may be of interest to your husband.”
“Oh?” she asked curiously.
“ComStar has two enclaves within the Federated Commonwealth’s borders that have been isolated for some time,” Wei explained delicately. “The worlds in question were abandoned by their inhabitants during the Succession Wars and resettled later on. Until recently, their governments preferred to remain isolated as refugees from the Succession Wars.”
Melissa arched an eyebrow. “Even abandoned worlds aren’t necessarily given up in terms of territorial claims.”
Wei shrugged. “That’s true. And territorial disputes are something they’ve wished to avoid. But the circumstances have changed.” Both rulers looked at her curiously and Wei lifted her tea cup, moistening her throat before continuing: “The world of Taussen wishes to remain under ComStar protection as one of our enclaves, but they also wish to contribute to the efforts against the Clans. On this basis, we will be restoring their location to our publicly available navigational databases.”
“And if the former owners of that world wish to exert their claims?” asked Minoru quietly.
She smiled but did not address the question directly. “Obeedah’s government, on the other hand, has decided that they no longer wish to remain under ComStar’s protection. As such, we will be withdrawing our presence. As it is no longer a ComStar enclave, the disposition of the world isn’t our business.”
Melissa picked up her own tea-cup. “I understand. I confess that I do not know of any worlds by those names, current or previously.”
“Ah,” Wei turned her cup in her hands. “Taussen was once known as Agmond. The nearest inhabited world is Bonneau, in the Point Barrow region.”
“Directly in the heart of the Federated Suns?” the Archon noted. “And Obidiah?”
“Obeedah,” she corrected lightly, “Was previously known as Gahral - a border world that once belonged to the Capellan Confederation. Its position is quite near to the currently contested border between the St Ives Compact and the Capellan Confederation. Most maps would place it within the Federated Commonwealth but I believe it changed hands several times in the early Succession Wars, contributing to the devastation of the original settlements. ”
“Yes, of course.” Melissa paused. “I cannot speak for the First Prince in this. The Federated Commonwealth is an alliance, not yet a formal union. If he wishes to push for whatever claims we have for these worlds then I doubt I would persuade him. If you had such worlds in the Lyran Commonwealth -” (Wei noted she was being looked at searchingly and tried to remain relaxed. “- I would have to consider how much ComStar’s services weigh against such a transgression.”
“I believe the consequences of violating a ComStar enclave are well known,” Wei said in a neutral voice. “This would, of course, apply only to Taussen. We have made it clear to Obeedah’s leadership of the consequences of their choices and they have accepted them. ComStar’s presence is being removed - including the HPG station.”
“Even the HPG?” asked Minoru, voice betraying surprise.
“Yes. The services ComStar offers are a matter of treaty. Since Obeedah has chosen not to enter into such treaties, they will be without them.” And the DRUM commandos who had seized control of the HPG station had been able to approach under the cover of the troop movements following Camlann. A single Level III of the regular ComGuards had followed the attack in and taken custody of the previous government.
As Wei said, they had been warned of the consequences of breaking with ComStar. If Thomas Marik - the real one, not the Captain-General - and his coterie thought their hidden rebellion would be ignored then they had been mistaken. Razing the HPG station to the lowest basement was the best way to ensure nothing was salvaged by whoever took control of the world in the future.
“Are there any such worlds in the Draconis Combine?” the Coordinator enquired, his voice a little colder. A little more worried.
“None that I am aware of,” Wei assured him. She was even telling the truth… now. It was convenient that the exception to that answer had destroyed themselves through research into biological weapons.
He nodded slowly.
“I must say that I didn’t expect such a revelation,” Melissa noted, taking up some of the noodles that her pork was served. “Do you have any more surprises for me?” Then she lowered the chopsticks, seeing some clue in Wei’s face.
“Recently, while surveying for damaged warships that can be recovered and repaired,” said Wei, “Some of my people found such a vessel - but rather than one of the old SLDF or Rim Worlds vessels they expected, it is a veteran of the Lyran navy. We make no claim to own the ship - currently it is undergoing some repairs and I will have it delivered to a star system of your choice once it is mobile.”
Melissa arched an eyebrow. “Primus, are you trying to bribe me into ignoring the Agmond situation?” she asked with a degree of sarcasm.
“Not at all. I cannot bribe you with your own property,” Wei claimed and lifted her tea cup to sip from it. “Of course, if this would benefit the Federated Commonwealth’s warship programmes… Well, that is a sign of goodwill that I think that you and your husband will take into consideration.”
Given the current talks to facilitate aid and advice in preparing certain Federated Commonwealth shipyards to build the massive transit drives needed for a warship were far from reaching a conclusion, Wei was fairly sure that Melissa understood the implications. Right now, ComStar’s technical aid was significantly more valuable than one minor colony… particularly when another colony was up for grabs.
“Such generosity,” Minoru mused. “Dare I hope that you have found any warships that are the proper property of House Kurita?”
“Alas, no,” she told him. “But if you are interested in seeking help in restoring DCS Togura, I believe we still have SLDF records on how to maintain and repair vessels of her class.”
The Kurita nodded in satisfaction. The Togura had been left orbiting New Samarkand long ago, judged unfeasible to repair. Currently it was little more than an orbital museum, but it was also a potent symbol of the Combine’s one time ability to build a large fleet of such warships. Restoring it, perhaps even duplicating it, would be a significant mark of prestige for his reign.
The Free Worlds League and other realms might make requests for similar generosity, Wei thought. But if they did then the price would be concrete support for fighting the Clans. She was spending political capital, but at the same time she was disarming landmines left to her by her predecessors as Primus.
Silverdale, Alshain
Clan Smoke Jaguar Occupation Zone
29 May 3052
“I’m completely certain,” Natasha Kerensky told Karl Bourjon as the Wolf Khans took their seats next to the Ghost Bears in the council chamber, “That the original information said we’d be meeting in the palace.”
Ulric Kerensky hid a smile. He was similarly sure.
“I do not believe that the palace is in a suitable condition for this meeting,” Bourjon replied. “We flew over it on our way here and I can confirm that it has been very thoroughly burned to the ground… ah, demolished.”
“Since Clan Smoke Jaguar has been so gracious as to offer their headquarters as the meeting place for the Grand Kurultai,” Ulric told them, making sure he was speaking loud enough to be heard across the room, “I am sure that they know the difference between the palace and the Palace Hotel.”
Theresa DelVillar grunted in agreement, looking less than amused. “So long as this building is not suddenly demolished while we are inside.”
“I am sure it has better fire protection than a building modeled on medieval Japan,” he told her, watching Leo Showers twitch out of the corner of his eyes. Whatever the former ilKhan said, the Watch was quite clear that the Kurita’s palace had been burned down by the resistance, with dozens of Smoke Jaguars killed in the blaze. Sarah Weaver had refused to be drawn on the point, stating that she had not been on Alshain at the time and had no first hand knowledge.
The appointed time was reached and holographic images began to appear. Unlike meetings during the invasion, many were attending from the Hall of Khans on Strana Mechty - holographic projectors overlaying the familiar marble of the council chamber over this hotel’s ballroom. The Smoke Jaguars had been careful to position the desks so that everyone was seated precisely in their corresponding positions. Ulric saw Barbara Sennet nod quietly to her saKhan, who was one of those that had returned to the Inner Sphere.
Kael Pershaw, who was still holding onto the position of Loremaster for the Grand Council despite Edmund Hoyt’s recovery, struck a gavel. “The Grand Council is hereby convened and I note to you that we are still under the Martial Code handed down by Nicholas Kerensky. We are at war, and we shall conduct our business as befits that circumstance.” The Jade Falcon looked around the room. “I note the absence of Clan Blood Spirit’s Khans.”
One more thing back to normal, Ulric thought. The Blood Spirits had rarely bothered to attend before Operation Revival and now that it was over, they had retreated again. Or perhaps it was more because of the Burrock Absorption. Karianna Schmitt might have done something precipitous if she’d had the time or been in the homeworlds, but she’d had no chance. Trade agreements with the Diamond Sharks had been cut off, but that would probably hurt the Blood Spirits far more than it did the Sharks.
Speaking of whom, Barbara Sennet rose to speak.
“Are you going to absorb another Clan?” Natasha asked loudly before the Diamond Shark could speak.
There were several frowns around the room at the jibe. It wasn’t that Clans hadn’t been absorbed before, but this had been so blatantly set up by the two Clans that more than a few khans had referred to it contemptuously as more of a ‘marriage’, implying Inner Sphere degeneracy on the part of the Sharks.
“We have no plans for that,” Bikendi Vewas answered drily, as Sennet considered the question solemnly. “However, if any Clan wishes to volunteer, I believe Galaxy Commander Enders is commanding Barbara’s escort today.”
There was uneasy laughter and Ulric frowned. Ace Enders’ notoriety had grown considerably since he managed to kill two Khans in a single trial. That level of martial prowess, combined with what appeared to be good strategic acumen, meant that it was extremely likely the young man would become Khan in the future. He’d asked Natasha to recount everything they’d discussed when she met the Diamond Shark on Luthien and he suspected that Ender’s drive would push the Diamond Sharks into the Crusader camp in ways Ian Hawker would have never managed. The dead Khan had wanted to emulate the Jade Falcons and Smoke Jaguars, but Enders would aim to put the Sharks’ own stamp on the movement.
Barbara Sennet straightened her double-breasted jacket. “Absent any takers,” she said after a moment’s pause, “I am here to inform the Grand Council of my Clan’s immediate military intentions.”
Ulric sat up straight. ‘Immediate’? The Ghost Bears, at least, didn’t seem surprised.
“Having reviewed the agreement made with ComStar, it is my position that while Operation Revival is formally over and we are pledged to remain corewards of the Camlann line, there is no requirement barring further operations above this line,” Sennet continued seriously. “Our intelligence indicates that the Draconis Combine has relocated industry and is working to make good their losses. We have lost the element of surprise that aided us two years ago, and our technological edge is also being reduced as new military hardware - and upgrade packages for existing hardware - is reaching the DCMS in quantities. By the end of the truce in 3066, the remaining DCMS regiments may be on a technical par with the forces of the ComGuards… and I have no doubt they will have improved the training of their warriors.”
“That seems unduly pessimistic,” Elias Crichell observed slowly, but the bombastic Khan sounded less confident than was his wont.
Vewas glanced across the chamber (and a thousand light years) to look at the Jade Falcons. “Perhaps, Khan Crichell. But the Federated Commonwealth have significantly more resources to direct towards preparing their even larger army so if we are correct about the threat of the DCMS then your problems are likely greater to some degree.” He made a dismissive gesture, as if to suggest that he would take that point no further.
Sennet nodded. “It is my intention to lead my touman to eliminate whatever Combine industrial and military capacity we can above the truce line. How far we can push such an advance, and how many of those worlds we will garrison is unclear but I am certain that it will be easier to do this now than in five, ten or fourteen years.”
Ulric glanced at Robin Steele, who frowned and then gave him a nod. With him overseeing the Occupation Zone, the Coyote Khan was playing an important role in revitalising the Warden cause in the Homeworlds.
“I disagree with that interpretation,” Ulric said firmly. “We agreed to halt our invasion so we should not be launching new attacks on the Inner Sphere while the truce endures.” Which realistically probably wouldn’t be the full fifteen years, but the longer it was, the better. He’d suspected that the Diamond Sharks would reach the same conclusion eventually, but he’d hoped they would be more interested in opening trade and co-existence rather than looking for another wave of conquests.
Leo Showers cleared his throat. “That is a very dubious position.”
“You’re an expert on those,” Natasha told him.
The Smoke Jaguar Khan looked as if he might get up and challenge Natasha but Sarah Weaver leant forwards. “I do not recall there being any explicit terms preventing us from taking any action above the truceline.”
“It is implicit in ending Operation Revival,” Ulric argued.
“Operation Revival was just that: an operation,” Sennet told him crisply. “It was a means of the invasion, it was not the invasion in and of itself. The Grand Council voted to approve an invasion separately from voting to accept and follow Operation Revival.”
As loosely as the Diamond Sharks had done that - most of their conquests in the last wave hadn’t even been within the invasion corridor they were supposed to be following, Ulric thought.
“If the matter is not explicit in the agreement, we are free to make our own decision on the matter,” Robin suggested. She leant her weight on the desk in front of her. “Vote on the matter and then we can move onto more pressing matters such as the Ice Hellions’ tantrum.”
“Tantrum?” Asa Taney protested angrily. He folded his arms. “I suppose words are all you can throw back at me after your Clan’s dismal response to our challenges.” Clan Ice Hellion’s string of challenges to secure resources from other Clans over the last year had mostly been rebuffed, marking them as having over-reached themselves. Unfortunately, the Coyote garrison on Londerholm had been considerably understrength and they’d been left in a humiliating position: the only reason the Hellions hadn’t pressed their advantage and seized part of the enclave there had been furious Smoke Jaguars bearing down on the Hellion dropships. No Coyote would ever appreciate being saved by the Smoke Jaguars, of all Clans.
“A vote seems reasonable,” Perigard Zalman interjected. “I second the motion.”
“Very well,” Pershaw agreed. “A vote of aye confirms the interpretation of Khan Sennet and a vote of nay backs Khan Kerensky - Ulric Kerensky, that is - in his interpretation. You may cast your votes.”
Ulric voted for his own position and then checked the other votes. Clan Cloud Cobra’s votes were with him, perhaps less out of any agreement and more to spite the Diamond Sharks’ decision to end the garrison agreement Clan Burrock had made over the Tanite worlds. Having to divert their forces to cover for the need was stretching the small Clan’s limited strength.
The Coyotes led a bloc of other Clans to back Ulric but, one at a time, the other invading Clans seemed to be putting their weight behind Sennet. The Jaguars might despise the Sharks, but they were apparently open to widening the war. After a brief consultation, the Nova Cats and Jade Falcons voted together, and the Ghost Bears were evidently in on the matter.
The Steel Vipers’ decision to also support the Diamond Sharks was a surprise - despite their recent agreements, the two Clans weren’t close. It wasn’t enough though and even after the Hells Horses and Fire Mandrill votes split the outcome was sixteen to fourteen in Ulric’s favor.
“Close,” Natasha muttered. “Too close.”
Ulric nodded. The bulk of the Clans that weren’t involved in the invasion were waking up to the advantages held by those that were. But it wasn’t enough to just win the vote.
“Clan Diamond Shark calls for a Trial of Refusal,” Barbara Sennet informed them all the moment the outcome was clear. She probably wanted this over with before it affected the schedule for her invasion plans.
“That is your right,” confirmed Pershaw. “The forces committed would be at eight to seven.”
“I propose to commit a binary from my current escort,” she announced. “I will provide a breakdown for the Council by this evening.”
“It’ll be Enders,” Natasha said with certainty.
“Aff,” agreed Ulric. “And the odds are close enough that we’ll be sending at most eleven ‘mechs, or a slightly heavier binary.” The only Clans with forces present to be used to defend the vote were the Smoke Jaguars, or escort units… and the only khans present who had voted against the measure were he and Natasha. It would have to be Clan Wolf. “I want you to handle it personally.”
“...you do love me after all,” Natasha said brightly, but he saw a calculating light in her eyes.
Ace Ender’s meteoric rise was nettling at Natasha - she’d also been a ristar but not on that scale. It was good that she was motivated, because she was one of the only Wolves that Ulric thought would stand a chance against Enders - and the only one who was with him on Alshain. The man wasn’t invincible, but killing that many Khans could not be a coincidence. Perhaps in a year or two young Vladimir of the Wards would be on that level - unrepentant Crusader or not, the Star Commander was excellent - and Phelan also had enormous potential, but neither was quite ready.
“In the event that your refusal succeeds,” Zalman offered, looking over at Sennet and Vewas, “We have two Galaxies of forces in reach of your Occupation Zone.”
Ulric clenched his fists. The Vipers’ invasion force should be most of the way back to the homeworlds! They had nowhere to base from - were their warriors eating their own boots?! A moment later, the answer was obvious. They must have imitated the Diamond Sharks and seized a world in the Periphery just outside the Inner Sphere to use as a forward base. Waiting for an opportunity like this one.
However, to his surprise, Sennet shook her head, “That is generous Khan Zalman and if we find ourselves in need of reinforcements then I might be open to contracting your forces against the Draconis Combine. However, we have previously activated Clan Ghost Bear as our reserve Clan and it would be greedy to claim a second when one of the other Clans not to receive help might need you more.”
Natasha chuckled and Ulric glanced at her, then followed her eyes to Sarah Weaver.
“What possible cause,” the junior Smoke Jaguar grated, “Would we have to call for a reserve when the invasion is stalled?”
“Fire safety?” suggested Vewas innocently.
Sennet shook her head slightly, warning her saKhan to shut up. Which was probably wise as she was the only Diamond Shark physically in the chamber with the two Smoke Jaguars. “We have an influx of new warriors who need to be blooded, so for now we will rely on our own Clusters. Clan Ghost Bear has found their supply lines under repeated attack,” she continued. “We have agreed to open supply routes through our occupation zone and Khan Bourjon will assign warriors to protect them, to make sure that shipments reach the Ghost Bears.”
Karl Bourjon rose to his feet. “We are sworn to ensure that no hostile force endangers Clan Diamond Sharks’ supply lines - any force entering their Occupation Zone that may be targeting the supplies of either of our Clans will be treated as an immediate threat,” he warned, with a grim look towards Leo Showers.
It seems that Showers’ attempts to rebuild his forces at the expense of the Ghost Bear’s supply lines have been cut short, Ulric noted. That’s one good thing out of this - now if Natasha can just win…
He would like to think that it was assured that the Wolves would overcome any force comparable in numbers… but after the Trial of Absorption, he was done underestimating Natasha’s opponent.
“Do you think that the Diamond Sharks can destroy the Draconis Combine alone?” demanded Leo Showers. Perhaps he too had had visions of joining this attack.
In response, the Diamond Shark khan smiled coolly. “Destruction is a means, not an end, Khan Showers. Our goal is conquest, and some Clans are clearly better partners than others for such an endeavor.”
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Silverdale Flats, Alshain
Clan Smoke Jaguar Occupation Zone
1 June 3052
The Silverdale Flats were a rare case, for Alshain’s mountainous continents, of relatively level ground near a city that hadn’t been developed. Ace wasn’t sure why it hadn’t been, but the Smoke Jaguars had decided that the two steep ridges either side of the area, as well as the peak the ridges converged into, would become their new headquarters - digging into the mountain at the same time they re-shaped it to resemble the head and paws of their totem feline.
As a result, the area was still dotted with hastily abandoned construction supplies - the more mobile equipment had been removed but there was no time to remove piles of spoil, stacks of support girders and many more heaps of mysteriously wrapped sacks or pallets of crates. The circle of equals wasn’t large enough for the sort of extended hunting games that Ace had faced against the Burrocks, but nor were they so forced together that everyone was visible from the start.
It was ten on ten, but Clan Wolf had a weight advantage - Ace’s heaviest ‘mech was Norman’s Gargoyle and while he didn’t have an exact breakdown of his opposition, he knew they could have taken sixty tons more overall. Only Kael Pershaw, acting as Oathmaster, knew what both sides had chosen as he’d arbitrated the back and forth to settle on forces that met the required 10% weight advantage. In the end the Wolves had settled for slightly less, constrained by both forces only having the fifteen ‘mechs of their Khan’s honor guard to work with. Still, fifty tons was a big difference.
“Call off as you see them,” Ace reminded the two Stars with him. “We need to know what we’re dealing with.”
“Aff,” Star Commander Tomori agreed and then added. “‘Information is Ammunition!’”
Ace feigned a growl of irritation and heard a couple of mechwarriors snicker.
In a… misguided attempt at cultural assimilation, Clan Jade Falcon merchants had entered into a commercial arrangement with ComStar to ‘syndicate’ the Adventures of Clan Spaniel for the education of the Inner Sphere’s masses. In exchange, the Clans were now being exposed to Tharkad Broadcasting Company’s latest animated holovid, and Tomori had apparently binged the entire series during the voyage from the homeworlds.
Ace hadn’t seen much of it personally, but from what he’d heard the Jade Falcons were rather upset about their depiction. Which, of course, meant that any Clan that didn’t get along with the often haughty Jade Falcons had picked it up. The first ‘trial’ of cultural warfare had been decided in the Lyran’s favor… fortunately it wasn’t going to be the last.
“Summoner and Gargoyle,” Julian reported, bringing a degree of sobriety back to the force. “On the left flank.”
“I see them,” concurred Norman. “It has got that silly wolf-shaped head they started retrofitting.”
“Neg,” Julian corrected him. “It has a standard head.”
“Two pairs of ‘Mechs,” Ace cut them off before they could argue. His ‘mechs were sticking to cover, shifting slightly towards the right flank. “Anyone else.”
There was a short pause and then Quinn spoke up. “I see a Hellbringer… and a Timber Wolf. Might be more than one, magscan is useless right now. Close to the center.”
“We could be looking at five pairs,” Tomori suggested, “Watch the right flank.”
An alert popped up on Ace’s sensors. “Neg! Artillery inbound!” He pushed the Huntsman into a sprint for cover. His anti-missile system might be able to affect an Arrow IV missile, particularly if it had a seeker head, but an explosive warhead wouldn’t need to enter the reach of the flechettes to damage him. “Plan Raspberry! Julian, take the lead!”
“Aff,” the newly promoted Star Captain confirmed and as the first missile burst over their location, confirming that the Wolves’ sensors were at least as good as those of the Diamond Sharks, the bulk of the binary pushed themselves to maximum speed, sprinting further to the right to get out of the blast zone as three more Arrow IV missiles plunged won, the explosions scraping away at the rear armor of the two ‘mechs at the back of the formation.
There were three exceptions: Ace, Tomori and Fyfer activated their electronic counter-measures and began to skulk the other way. The sophisticated systems wouldn’t protect them from the human eyeball, but to a considerable degree mechwarriors depended on their sensors to highlight potential threats and targets for them and the countermeasures would hopefully make it much harder to spot the three medium ‘mechs.
Ace let the other two take the lead - their Mongrels were slightly lighter than his Huntsman, but they traded payload for noticeably greater speed - as they moved from cover to cover, using prefab buildings, heavy industrial machinery and stacks of supplies larger than any ‘mech to hide them. The Smoke Jaguar workers would probably be irritated at the disruption, much less the almost inevitable damage that was going to be done to their workplace, but it probably wouldn’t even occur to Showers or Weaver that this would impact the construction of their shiny new lair, he thought.
Unfortunately, there were warriors in his own Clan that were no better. At least they rarely rose to command positions.
He could see LRMs soaring upwards from the seven Diamond Sharks of the main force, plastering the approaching Wolves. Every one of the seven had LRM launchers loaded with Swarm munitions with improved tracker heads. Natasha Kerensky wasn’t likely to follow zellbrigen, so Ace had planned accordingly. The Swarm missiles were excellent against ‘mechs moving in close proximity, since any missile that didn’t lock onto the initial target might pick up the next.
That wasn’t Ace’s concern though. That was more avoiding the Summoner and Gargoyle on the Wolves’ right flank - or any ‘mechs beyond them, if that wasn’t actually their extreme flank.
Fyfer’s Mongrel paused behind a building and held up one arm in warning.
Ace tucked in behind his current cover and dialed down the reactor to reduce the heat signature as far as he could without shutting down.
A laser-com, basically undetectable, reached him from the former-Burrock’s ‘mech. “The Summoner and Gargoyle are about to pass us,” he reported. “We could catch them from the rear and wipe out two of them before they know we are here, quaiff?”
Ace thought quickly. It was tempting… but the Mongrels were equipped for maximum short-range impact, not for long range fighting. They would have to get close… “Neg,” he decided. “If there was just one, perhaps, but we need surprise for a little longer.”
More Arrow IV artillery missiles arched up above the battlefield and plunged towards the sources of the LRMs.
“Four missiles,” Tomori reported, also by laser-com. “It must be a pair of Naga.”
“My own thinking,” Ace agreed. There weren’t many potential sources for Arrow IV missiles, and very few OmniMechs had the space to carry them. But the Naga, a rather rare OmniMech, hard mounted a pair of launchers, with very little internal space for the ammunition and any secondary weapons. And Clan Wolf had built the Naga, centuries ago. “Tell us when it’s clear to move, Fyfer.”
The mechwarrior didn’t answer directly, but after a minute ticked down on Ace’s clock, the Mongrel lowered its arm and moved on. Tomori followed and Ace brought up the rear - his Huntsman wasn’t as fast, but with them sweeping back and forth to scout the path, he could take the most efficient route through the tangle of building work. He kept one eye on his sensors, watching for any sign that someone had spotted their tracks and had reversed course to follow them - in theory his active probe and the ECM should let him spot them first but there was no guarantee one of the Wolves didn’t have their own electronics package.
“Ace,” Tomori contacted him again.
“Aff?”
“Thank you for requesting me,” she said simply. “I was expecting my next assignment to be a garrison unit.”
“You are a good officer,” he replied absently. “Level-headed. I could trust you before, I believe I still can.”
“It is my last chance for glory, to get a nomination for a bloodname,” Tomori clarified, a little sharply. “I do not think you understand how much that matters to those of us born within the Clan.”
Ace paused. “Does it bother you that I won mine?”
She didn’t answer directly, which was an answer in and of itself. “There are always ristars. Not all of them are willing to reflect that light on those around them.”
“Well this is a taste of what you can expect in the Inner Sphere. Not all of it will be glorious, there is a lot of drudgery.” Would she thank him after her first taste of dealing with insurgency? Ace doubted it - few warriors found that enjoyable, certainly he did not,
“I think Khan Sennet will not waste you on that,” Tomori said in satisfaction. “And this is the Inner Sphere. These worlds are so rich compared to the homeworlds. This city -” Her Mongrel swung one arm towards the distant towers of Silverdale. “There are so few like it even on Strana Mechty, but here it is barely worth mention! It is amazing.”
“Perhaps you will see the Imperial City some day,” he told her, and then regretted it. Many parts of the city were still unsafe for Diamond Sharks without an armed escort. “I do not think there is anywhere in the Kerensky Cluster that is like it - I do not think I would want to live there, but visiting is like seeing a tiny fraction of ancient Terra.”
“I…” she began, sounding almost wistful and then snapped back to professionalism. “I think I am picking up the Nagas.”
“Confirmed,” Fyfer added, “I have visual on one and seismic confirms there are two ‘mechs.”
“There might be an escort,” Ace warned as the battle-computers, interlinked by the laser-coms, gave him an updated tactical plot of the Naga’s projected location. He looked at the clock, it had only been a few minutes since parting ways with the rest of the binary but there was only so long that Julian could draw the Wolves after him before he ran into the edge of the circle or they just caught up. “We will risk it. The two of you get close and fire if you are detected or once I do. Make sure you fire on the same Naga - we need them down fast.”
“Aff,” Fyfer said, sounding slightly aggrieved.
The two Mongrels surged ahead and Ace pushed the Huntsman as fast as he could, trying to minimize how far behind he was. Naga’s were much like Gargoyles - over-engined for their size. It let them keep up with most heavy ‘mechs, but Ace had tried a Gargoyle briefly during garrison work and disliked it - it might have more armor than a Stormcrow, but it had less firepower once jump jets were added and while it might on paper match the speed of his Huntsman, it wasn’t as agile. Cramming two artillery systems into that framework didn’t leave much room for armor or secondary weapons, but the Naga wasn’t going to be made of paper.
The location firmed up on the tactical plot as the Mongrels closed in and shared their sensor data. Ace picked out a heap of spoil mined out of the mountains and judged it solid enough to support his Huntsman’s weight. The medium ‘mech’s large, flat feet bit into the heaped stone like a man’s feet might do in sand, but he maintained traction. “Firing in three,” he warned.
“Two.” His sensor fin was above the top of the spoil and confirmed both Naga were present - the one the Mongrels had seen and a second that was in slightly better cover. Both ‘mechs started to move, the ECM interference in their communications warning them as much as Ace entering line of sight did.
“One.” Ace said as his cockpit topped the rise. An instant later, his crosshairs went gold as the raised PPCs did the same. The two particle beams bit into the much larger ‘mech before it could respond, tearing away almost all the armor across the chest and left side of the Naga.
A moment later, the two Mongrels bounded in - crossing almost two hundred meters in a single bound on their jump-jets. Both were configured for knife-fighting ranges and landed almost directly in front of the Naga, which opened up with its three small lasers.
Even the relatively light Mongrels could take that firepower without real risk and they each returned the fire with four such lasers, before following up with the SRMs.
Inner Sphere SRM production had been relatively easy to adapt to Clan standards so supplies were relatively plentiful. Both of the Mongrels were carrying five six-pack launchers, and they were close enough to fire with devastating accuracy.
With its front already torn open, the impact of dozens of SRMs devoured the interior of the Naga before its comrade could arrive to help - the artillery would be essentially irrelevant at this distance. The eighty-ton ‘mech toppled backwards, the reactor shutting down safely barely before the pilot had to eject.
Ace was already bringing his guns to bear on the second Naga, which couldn’t be that much harder to defeat even if they now had surprise.
Then two PPC bolts stretched out and skewered Tomori’s Mongrel with surgical precision.
The medium ‘mech staggered, the guts almost torn out by the pair of particle beams. Stalking into view from where it had been lying in wait, a Timber Wolf ducked slightly and the autocannon jutting from above its right shoulder - who put an autocannon on that joint?! - erupted with fire.
The tracers marked for Ace to watch helplessly as the shells carved a line up from the groin of the Mongrel up to its head, before Tomori could recover her balance.
Ace’s mouth opened to order her to punch out, but it was already too late. The last of the shells ripped the Mongrel’s cockpit apart, a splash of red indicating the fate of the Star Commander inside.
Ace felt his teeth snap together and a burning rage exploded within him. He swept the crosshairs past the Naga and towards the Timber Wolf, seeing the spider crawling atop the wolfshead badge of Clan Wolf, marking it as one of the Thirteenth Wolf Guards, paired with the large star of a Khan.
“Fyfer,” he snapped. “Take the other Naga!”
Both his PPCs discharged but Natasha Kerensky’s Timber Wolf was already dodging and both shots missed.
Ace fired his jump jets and the Huntsman vaulted up and off the piled stone before the Timber Wolf’s PPC slashed through the air where he had been standing.
She is cooling off, he realized. She can’t have enough heatsinks to fire that autocannon and both PPCs without overheating. Even staggering her fire like that.
The Timber Wolf was accelerating as the mechwarrior tried to come around to engage Fyfer, trying to protect her last artillery ‘mech. Ace fired his PPCs carefully - he might lack the massive autocannon but he could fire the PPCs without worrying about overheating - and rather than take the shots to her flank, the Black Widow was forced to turn and engage him.
That didn’t mean the two PPCs had hit - Ace couldn’t recall off hand the last time he’d missed with four shots. Kerensky was anticipating his fire.
Doing the same, Ace ducked the Huntsman and wove through the two shots fired back at him. One came close enough to burn paint and the outer layer of the armor on the Huntsman’s right shoulder but that was trivial.
Ace ran for the cover of a prefab building - it wasn’t much, but it was better than nothing - and fired just before the Huntsman’s legs were behind it. He might as well not have bothered as the Timber Wolf ducked almost organically beneath the beams.
Kerensky cut across the angle of his move, closing the distance enough to bring her autocannon to bear. The multiple barrels spun and Ace could have sworn he heard the deadly ‘brrrrr’ as depleted uranium tore the two storey prefab to bits.
Nothing inside the structure could stop the shells, but they did cause enough deflections that the shells that made it through only shredded the armor on the Huntsman’s left leg. A direct hit could have take the leg apart.
This wasn’t the jovial woman who had told tales - tall or accurate - about fifty years of warfare as she waited for a dropship berth. This was the Black Widow, veteran of all those years.
Her PPC fired a fraction later and Ace threw his ‘mech into a dive, using the momentum and the jump jets to turn the motion into an awkward somersault - well, perhaps more of a barrel-roll. Whatever you called it, he came down on both feet and bleeding speed like that had given him a hair of advantage as Kerensky was leading the target a bit more than she needed to.
Their next exchange of fire saw her other PPC flashed past the Huntsman’s cockpit just far away to be harmless while only one of his missed this time. Ablative plating exploded away from the calf of the larger ‘mech’s right leg, but the shot didn’t come close to actually penetrating.
An explosion behind Kerensky told of the demise of one of the two ‘mechs they’d left behind, a parachute marking a successful ejection. A moment later, the familiar shape of a Mongrel jumping up onto a stack of girders revealed that to neither’s surprise, which of the pair had won.
Natasha almost lazily extended both PPCs in different directions, firing one at Ace and the other at Fyfer.
The young mechwarrior almost stumbled as he bounded the medium ‘mech up and off the girders before the PPC’s charged particles could rip into it - Ace didn’t think the metal beams would be good for much after what was done to them. The landing was definitely rough.
Ace had dodged the shot aimed for him and saw Fyfer rushing in for a close pass. He could almost see what was going to happen as the PPCs didn’t even try to track the fleet Mongrel - not when Kerensky had that brutal autocannon to work with - it must have been Class Twenty. “Abort!” he shouted, lining his own PPCs towards the Timber Wolf.
Kerensky danced the Timber Wolf to the right, out of the path of the volley of SRMs that Fyfer unleashed. Almost none of them hit the heavy ‘mech and the autocannon muzzle dipped menacingly.
But Ace had guessed which way she would dodge and he was just a fraction faster on the trigger.
The two shots played along the length of the autocannon, static electricity playing visibly across the multi-barreled weapon, armor melting away under the hideous energy transfer. The autocannon’s barrels stopped spinning, locked in place by the damage.
Almost as if she had planned it, Kerensky turned sharply, the additional waist motion bringing one of the PPCs up to fire into the Mongrel’s chest at point-blank range. The ravening particles bit in deep, reducing the coverage over one of the ammunition bins to little more than paper even as the Wolf Khan dumped her own remaining autocannon shells out the back of her Timber Wolf before Ace’s PPCs could cycle.
“Back up Julian!” Ace ordered sharply, turning to threaten Kerensky’s rear.
“Sir, we can -!”
You will get yourself killed like Tomori, he wanted to say. “The point is the whole Trial - catch the other Wolves from behind and we can carve them up!” he shouted instead. “Do it!”
“Aff!” Fyfer acknowledged, not sounding convinced. But the Mongrel accelerated away and it had almost half-again the speed of a Timber Wolf.
The only way Kerensky could stop Fyfer from disengaging was with her PPCs and she tried to do just that, but Ace saw that coming and he fired his PPCs right where her own would have to be. The old mechwarrior jerked the weapons back, but the left arm’s PPC took a hit to the armored casing. Again, it didn’t penetrate - but it might be an exploitable weakness in the future.
“That’s pretty arrogant of you,” Natasha warned, voice echoing off the surroundings as she used her loudspeakers to address Ace. “Thinking that you can take me on alone.”
Ace replied the same way. “Let’s face it. It would not be more than a minute before it was back to you and me anyway. He has potential but he is not ready for you.”
The Black Widow laughed. “Ah, flattery, my one true weakness!”
“And then there is your skill in a ‘mech,” he added sardonically. Keep talking, he thought. Chances are decent that Julian is keeping the odds pretty level over there. It might even be seven on seven still, I have not heard any ‘mechs exploding. Adding one more ‘mech to tip the balance gives us the best shot. All I need to do is keep you busy, Natasha.
“Sassy,” Natasha replied flatly and opened fire with both PPCs.
-
Ace had feigned a skitter sideways, guessing that Kerensky would read the move, and then jumped the Huntsman vertically instead. Despite the misdirection, she managed to hit him again, blasting almost a ton of armor from the medium ‘mech’s left arm.
He fired back but she managed to avoid him, pushing aggressively towards his landing zone.
As the Huntsman came down, Ace made for one of the openings dug into the hillside. The tunnels that would eventually lead to internal structures were unfurnished and probably didn’t even lead anywhere yet, but the large drilling machines used to create them were larger than any battlemech and pretty decent cover.
Two errant PPCs bolts chased him and he turned to fire back, this time landing a hit that tore a long swathe across the ‘cheek’ of the Timber Wolf, obliterating the Thirteenth Wolf Guards’ insignia.
There wasn’t much speed advantage between the two ‘mechs but Ace could use his jump jets to leap up and over the drill, while Kerensky would have to go around it. For a moment he had the whimsical idea of trying to roll the entire device over onto her, but shook it off. The Huntsman wasn’t close to being that strong, and in any case she’d be going for one of the ends to get around it.
Instead he kept the Huntsman running, feeling the sweat run down him even as the cockpit cooled in the brief relief from firing. Why did every battle keep getting harder and harder? Sooner or later he was going to run out of luck and that might be today. Ace triggered the ejection of the ammo for his anti-missile system - it would do no good against Kerensky’s PPCs.
Kerensky’s Timber Wolf erupted around the drill end of the industrial machine, PPCs flashing towards the Huntsman as Ace reached the most recent spoil, what hadn’t been raked away to the large heaps further away from the working. One shot exploded shards of granite in the pile, the other smashed into the Huntsman’s right leg. It was in a better state than the left but that was a matter of degree.
Ace’s return fire was aimed right for the old warrior’s cockpit. With only two options for how she could approach, he’d guessed the most aggressive and been proven right.
Both particle beams converged over the enemy Khan’s cockpit but she was already flinging up the left arm of her Timber Wolf. Both beams bit into the cylindrical weapon pod and almost vaporized the PPC there, spreading the armor glass of her cockpit with debris.
She was down half her remaining armament!
And then Kerensky’s one remaining PPC struck the Huntsman’s right shoulder entirely. The arm dropped away, costing Ace the PPC there as well as a chunk of coolant that spilled like blood down the side of the Huntsman until safety valves cut off the flow.
The anti-missile system was gone and if Ace hadn’t already dumped the flechettes for it, he would have given himself even odds of them detonating. He still had his pulse laser, but honestly he doubted that that would make a difference. Besides, there was the muzzle of a laser below her cockpit - likely some popgun small laser there as a last resort.
Ace jumped the Huntsman up on top of the next drilling machine, barely avoiding another PPC shot from Kerensky. His own shot went where she’d been, not where she was, as he raced down the length of the industrial system, jump jets recharging just enough to cushion the drop at the far end.
Up ahead of him, he saw one of the ridges that enclosed the flats - the edge of the circle of equals. Crossing that would take himself out of the trial and free Kerensky to go after the rest of the binary. And even damaged as her ‘mech was, that didn’t seem like a winning proposition.
So, that left him the choice of turning to fight. There was a stack of girders that would almost certainly provide more cover for the Huntsman’s damaged legs than the pre-fab building had earlier. Ace turned and ran for it as fast as the Huntsman would go.
Kerensky’s Timber Wolf rounded the second drill and her PPC snap-fired and hit the Huntsman’s knee, reducing its run to a far more pathetic limp. Reflexively, Ace fired the jump jets, hoping they would be enough to carry the ‘mech into cover. He twisted the ‘mech in the air, trying to bring the left arm’s PPC around to bear.
And right before Ace could fire back at her, the Wolf Khan managed a second shot, blew through the Huntsman’s upper left thigh, shattering structural bones and tearing away myomers. The bulk of the leg fell away, crashing down on top of the crates.
The leg that remained, already damaged, couldn’t possibly absorb the full impact of almost fifty tons of ‘mech hitting the ground.
Ace jammed his heels down, venting the propellant held back to control his descent, but keeping himself hanging in the air for a few precious seconds more.
The Timber Wolf kept running for three more strides, remaining weapons already focusing in on the Ace’s landing zone. And critically, not raised towards where the Huntsman hung in the sky.
Zeroing in the crosshairs, Ace fired the PPCs a fraction of a second before the last fumes of plasma rushed out of the jump jets, and then yanked the yellow-striped handles either side of his helmet.
Fired in haste, the shot missed its target, the Khan’s cockpit, by two meters. Instead it hit the dorsal armor above the fusion reactor. Armor that, while not impervious, should have ablated the energy effectively. Perhaps the earlier damage to the autocannon mount was responsible. Perhaps the ammunition feeds that lay through that part of the ‘mech, feeding the bulky autocannon with rounds stored on the other side of the torso, had been incorrectly sealed. Perhaps it was just sheer good luck, the proverbial BB.
As Ace triggered the ejection from his own doomed Huntsman, Natasha Kerensky rocketed up from the Timber Wolf as the reactor safeties completely failed to cope with the thermal energy transfer from the PPC bolt rupturing the shielding. The heavy ‘mech vanished briefly in a fireball that caused damage that would take thousand of man-hours to repair and very nearly incinerated Clan Wolf’s second-in-command.
Ace experienced a second violent shock as his parachute emerged at the apex of his flight and bit at the air to slow his descent to something survivable. Then a third impact as he landed on top of a stack of concrete slabs, going sprawling and almost tangled in his own parachute cords before he found the release strap and severed himself from them.
It had all happened so fast that he was sincerely surprised to look around and see Natasha Kerensky’s Timber Wolf had fallen over and was on fire in places. For a moment he thought that, contrary to the initial impression he’d had, the shot had hit the cockpit after all.
But then he saw the other parachute in the sky, which was descending towards the actual ground rather than girders he was on.
Pulling off his helmet, Ace felt rain on his face. He hadn’t realized that it was drizzling until now, caught up in the battle. The air was hot and tasted of smoke, but as Alshain’s cloudy skies wept, the air was washed clean. He leant back for a moment, feeling the water run across his sweaty brow and down his nose to drip off his chin.
Walking to the end of the stack, he started climbing down the girders, using them as an impromptu ladder.
Tomori was dead. She’d come all this way to fight alongside him… and died.
One day, he was reminded, it would likely be him that was wiped away just as suddenly and violently. That was the life he’d chosen. It was better than being a sterilized laborer, which was where most of Castrum Keep’s survivors had ended up… but was this really all there was.
“Hey!”
Ace looked around and saw Natasha Kerensky glaring at him. She’d also removed her helmet, long red hair spilling over her gear, darkening as rain soaked into it. “You want to keep fighting?” he asked her.
She looked him over. “I don’t see those famous swords of yours?”
He shrugged. “Stolen.”
“Stolen.” Natasha shook her head. “And unlike certain unnamed people, I don’t carry a freaking revolver around in the cockpit. So if you’d be so good as to lie down in the mud so I can kick you into submission?”
It wasn’t until he laughed at that, that Ace concluded that he might not be in the best state of mind at the moment. “Apparently there are people in the Inner Sphere who pay for that. The universe is a strange place.”
“You have that right.” The Wolf looked around and found what looked like part of the knee of Ace’s Huntsman. The top was still basically intact - although it should have been the side - and she perched on it. “Okay, how about this: if Kael Pershaw comms us and tells us it really is down to the two of us with a fist-fight, that’s when I will kick your lights in.”
Ace leant against the stacked girders. “I can wait.” It occurred to him that Natasha was very nearly as old as Takashi Kurita. Most likely he could beat her, but was it worth risking? What if he couldn’t? He would likely never live that down.
He’d just started patting down his pockets to see what he did have with him when Natasha said: “Hey,” again. “So, what has you so keen on invading the Combine. I heard Sennet’s take, but why do you want this so much?”
“I don’t!” Ace exclaimed, frustrated enough to let his careful effort to speak like the rest of the Clans slip. “I do not want another war,” he said, remembering himself. “Not right now. We are still trying to absorb the worlds we’ve… we have taken. It is the same for you Wolves, and you know it,” he added, pointing at Kerensky as she started to grin.
She considered that and then shrugged. “Eh, probably. But you’re here and fighting for the chance to… what, double the size of your occupied worlds? Why? Are you just Sennet’s attack dog?”
He raked one hand through his dampening hair. “Because she is also right. It is a bad choice! But out of the choices we have, it is the best. The Combine - you told me about your time there, you know what they’re like as neighbors. I read your reports. I heard what you told me, and I have read what they tell their own people. So long as we border them, a war with the Draconis Combine is basically inevitable.”
Natasha nodded. “Okay. Fair point there. Hundreds of years of history proves you right. So why now? Why not in a year or two - or when the truce expires.”
“Firstly,” Ace said, holding up a finger, “I do not give the current truce one chance in a hundred of lasting fifteen years. Too many people hate it. Even if by some chance the Camlann line endures, someone was going to break the ceasefire.”
“It just happens to be you, quaiff?” she asked scornfully.
“Neg.” He shook his head. “We are choosing to break it now because our chances do not get better. Not in any projection we have. The Combine - and beyond it, the Federated Commonwealth, the Capellans, the Free Worlds League… they are getting stronger. And they are getting stronger faster than we are. If we do not carve out a place now that we can hold onto then we never will. Weaken them as much as we can, and maybe we can survive that. Otherwise…” Ace shrugged. “What happens to an invading Clan that loses their worlds here, that loses all the resources - all the people - committed to them. I do not think such a Clan will last long.”
Natasha crossed her long legs at the knee, rested one elbow on them and used that hand to support her chin. “I hadn’t considered it like that,” she allowed. “I’ll grant that they’d be motivated… although, are you really that much better a neighbor? I doubt the Falcons and Cats are thinking about that, but the minute you gave them this excuse they were jumping at the chance to attack the FedCom again. Is it just an excuse to play Crusader again?”
Ace frowned. “I don’t get it,” he admitted.
“What, you’re pretending that…
“No, I get you’re saying I… that we, the Clans, are hyper-aggressive, that we attack because it’s what we are and everything else is a justification.” He looked at her. “And maybe you have a point, but why do you call me a Crusader?”
“Aren’t you?”
“...why would I be? The entire issue is over.”
Kerensky blinked. “Say what?”
“We have invaded, so... the Crusaders won. That division of Warden versus Crusader is irrelevant. The Wardens can’t undo the fact that we invaded. What matters now, what divides the Clans is how we respond to what’s happening now. That entire argument is… well, not ancient history, but history.” Ace spread his hands. “Arguing over whether or not to do something we have already done is nothing but a waste.”
“So… what do you think the factions are?”
Ace found a couple of cylinders in his pocket. Huh. He’d thought he’d handed all these out… he must have dropped a couple in here and forgotten about them. “It is… okay, call it four factions. Broken into two indexes.” He held up the cylinders like a cross. “Up here we have the homeworld Clansfolk, down here the ones that invaded.”
“Seven on ten… okay, on nine,” she observed. “We’re outnumbered.”
“Worse than that. I don’t mean just by Clan. Just those of us who are here.” He nodded to his left. “Over here, on this side, the people who think that it changes nothing, that the Clans can just continue as they have been, that these worlds will accept the Clans the way the Pentagon worlds did.”
Kerensky’s eyes narrowed. “And on the other side?”
Ace lowered the cylinders. “The people who know that the Clans will change. Will have to change. We cannot conquer the entire Inner Sphere. Probably we never could - so to survive we have to become something that can co-exist with the Successor Lords. To learn how to be… well, probably not good neighbors, but tolerable ones.”
“Good luck with that.” She looked at what he was holding. “You smoke? Bad for your lungs.”
Ace tossed the two foil wrapped cigars in his hand and then shrugged. “Non-carcinogenic, apparently. Some sort of luxury good from a world on the other side of the truceline. Do not ask me why they are so hard to come by.” There was a crackle from his helmet and he scooped it up, tucking the cigars back into his pocket.
“- read me?” he heard Pershaw say as he slipped the helmet on, seeing Natasha doing the same with hers.
“Say again, Oathmaster,” he requested.
“Galaxy Commander,” the Jade Falcon said flatly. “I was beginning to think Kerensky had strangled you.”
“Not yet,” she said, voice echoing as Ace heard Kerensky from both the radio and a couple of meters away.
“I see.” Pershaw sounded somewhat regretful. “Despite the… less than honorable behavior on both sides, a resolution has been reached.” He paused. “With one ‘mech remaining active, Clan Diamond Shark stands victorious.”
“Damn it,” Kerensky snapped.
Ace winced. Nineteen ‘mechs down… and beyond that material costs, what about the men and women inside. “How many fatalities?”
“Four,” the Falcon replied with an air of near-satisfaction. “Mechwarriors Tholla and Volax of Clan Wolf, Star Commander Tomori and Mechwarrior Ethan Sennet of Clan Diamond Shark.”
He closed his eyes for a moment, thinking of Tomori. Of Ethan, who’d earned his bloodname late and been aiming for his own Cluster one day. Of other faces, past and now gone ahead of him into…
No. Ace shook his head. That’s how you get religion. There is no use worrying about a next life when I have this one to deal with.
“Hey.”
He looked up at Kerensky. “Yes?”
“Do you have a lighter?”
Ace shook his head.
The Wolf held out her hand. “Gimme those cigars.”
He obliged. He’d been handing them out, not using them.
To his surprise, rather than producing a lighter, Kerensky walked to the wreck of her Timber Wolf, unwrapping the slim cigars. Ace followed and watched as Kerensky held the tips of the cigars in what fire had survive the drizzle until both were glowing.
She passed him one and then put the other between her lips. “Congratulations,” she told him, puffing on the cigar. “You get to go kill Snakes, which I generally approve of.”
Ace carefully tried his own cigar and started coughing. He’d never tried actually smoking one himself.
Kerensky laughed and slapped him on the back as he recovered his breath and tried again more cautiously. “Keep swimming, you crazy shark.” And then she walked off, cigar firmly between her teeth, heading for the distant sounds of rescue vehicles, leaving Ace watching her, lost in his own thoughts.
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NICELY DONE sir!!!
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And with Ace giving Natasha something to think about ... we may see better cooperation between Wolves and Sharks in future?
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I have to say that I like this version of the latest chapter much more than the initial one - which could of have stood for itself, too.
Well done. :smilie_happy_thumbup:
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Both were indeed good, and the second better! :)
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Much better, and very satisfying. thanks, Drak.
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Now that was fabulous. The description of the battle flowed better, the outcome worked better, and the final interaction between Natasha and Ace was perfect.
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Holy Moly! You never disappoint!
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Much improved. I like.
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This is awesome!
... And now Natasha can add "the only Khan who ever survived fighting Ace Enders" to the list of her accomplishments.
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That was a good fight, they both came to the battlefield with a plan to turn the battle to their advantage and both had to deal with enemy vote.
I wonder how Wei locking horns with the Real Thomas Marik will influence the actions of the Fake Thomas Marik. As there is no reformation RTM does not have large number of disgruntled Comstar personnel to manipulate, so FTM is by far his biggest asset, but Wei knows that too. FTM cares about FWL and if RTM pushes for measures that are detrimential to the FWL, he just might ally himself with Wei.
Remember when you were young, you swam like a fish
Swim on you crazy shark
Now there's a look in your eyes, like black holes in the sky
Swim on you crazy shark
You were caught in the crossfire of childhood and stardom, blown on the steel breeze
Come on you target for faraway fire, come on you stranger, you legend, you martyr, and swim!
You reached for the secret too soon, you cried for the moon
Swim on you crazy shark
Threatened by shadows at night, and exposed in the light
Swim on you crazy shark
Well you wore out your welcome with random precision, rode on the steel breeze
Come on you raver, you seer of visions, come on you painter, you fighter, you prisoner, and swim!
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Extracts from Taurian Military Intelligence - Bureau of Analysis - Profiling Desk
4 October 3052
CLASSIFIED - TOP SECRET
INTERIM NOTES - NOT FOR CIRCULATION
INNER SPHERE PROFILES
Kurita, Minoru
Rank & Titles: Coordinator of the Draconis Combine, Unifier of Worlds, Duke of Luthien
Almost two years into his reign, the serving Coordinator has yet to establish a strong hold over his government or his state, something that has been ascribed to his relative youth and inexperience, combined with the extraordinary circumstances. The loss of Luthien and the deaths of Coordinator Takashi Kurita and the next two potential successors has cast a long shadow over House Kurita. Despite some efforts to claim otherwise, neither the Coordinator nor the vaunted DCMS can claim any credit for the survival of the Draconis Combine against the Clan Invasion and the appearance of dependency upon outsiders is one of weakness within both the government and society which the Coordinator must lead.
At this stage, Minoru Kurita is believed to be operating functionally as a willing figurehead for a cabal of liberal (by Draconian standards) officials headed by Subhash Indrahar. As head of the Internal Security Forces, Indrahar is in a position to control information received by the Coordinator, shaping his perceptions and therefore the orders. It’s believed that Chandrasekhar Kurita, the Kurita dynasty’s most noted financial magnate, is operating in cooperation with Indrahar to coordinate attempts to stabilize the Combine’s disrupted economy while at the same time relocating or replacing the remains of the military industrial complex.
It is unclear at this date whether this is being done in willing cooperation with the Coordinator, who can reasonably expect to outlive most of his officials should he avoid death by natural political causes, or if he is constrained by them in which case it is likely he will be forced to form an alliance with conservative elements uncomfortable with the actions taken in the Coordinator’s name. It is likely that many parts of the Combine’s power structure are unhappy with the current composition of the Imperial Court and would be glad to support Minoru Kurita against his current advisors for the chance to take places at his side.
Currently the major challenge facing the Coordinator is the pressure to appoint a Deputy for Military Affairs. While this is a logical response to his own lack of military experience, history suggests that once such authority was granted it would be hard to rescind. If such an appointment takes place, the individual chosen will be a real indicator as to whether power within the Combine rests with the liberals, the conservatives, the Coordinator or, god forbid, the Federated Commonwealth.
Rong Wei
Rank & Titles: Primus of ComStar, Doctor of Arts (History), Doctor of Medicine (Psychology)
The unexpected winner of the 3046 power struggle on Terra that decimated ComStar’s higher ranks, it has become increasingly apparent that the Capellan-born Primus’ is transforming the Order accordance with her own goals. The time may come when we look on the arrogance of Myndo Waterly fondly in comparison to the machiavellian (almost Borgia-esque) reign of Rong Wei.
Unlike most previous leaders of ComStar, Rong has maintained a high lifestyle beyond the reach of her notional salary, which is believed to be financed using her office’s discretionary funds. Attempts to undermine her for this abuse of official monies have foundered on the same rock as the 3042 attempt by the Special Task Groups to ‘turn’ the then-Precentor of Canopus IV: the woman is entirely shameless and makes no secret whatsoever of her fondness for erotic entertainments, luxury goods and services, and intimate activities. This may be intended to divert attention for her more political activities, with some observers dismissing her solely as a hedonist rather than a significant leadership figure.
Despite this, there is no doubt she is possessed of the ruthlessness needed to rise to the top of such a large political organization. Less than two years into her reign she purged large portions of ComStar’s internal security and replaced them with her own chosen agents. This appears to have been a foresighted decision that allowed her to not only survive the 3049 attempt on her life but further cripple political opposition. It says much that she is idolized by both the militant and pacifist wings of ComStar - the effective canonization of Precentor Gwyn Thorne of Rasalhague after her untimely death eliminated a rival and let the Primus re-establish her position as voice of reason.
The mobilization of the ComGuards against the Clans has of course cemented the capability of Terra to dictate to the Inner Sphere. While not as large as any of the major House militaries (although prior to Camlann a comparison to the CCAF is interesting), the ComGuards retain a technological advantage and strategic mobility that raises uncomfortable parallels to the SLDF. The offers of technological support to states including the Concordat raises the distinct possibility that the Primus is using the conferences called to address the threat of the Clans to push for an agenda of reuniting the Star League. By casting herself as a neutral point between the rivalries of the Successor Lords, Wei Rong may see herself as the next Ian Cameron. This threat may seem remote, but the implications of fighting a Reunification War where our interstellar communications are in the hands of the enemy are too dreadful to be dismissed.
Steiner-Davion, Victor Ian
Rank & Titles: Heir-Designate of the Federated Commonwealth, Duke of Sarna, Hauptmann-Kommandant (AFFC)
Although he is the direct heir to First Prince Hanse Davion, Victor Steiner-Davion was raised on Tharkad by his maternal family, demonstrating that Archon Katrina Steiner was able to exert dominance as the senior partner within the Federated Commonwealth until her abdication in 3039. After this point, the prince’s upbringing and education was divided between the Commonwealth and the Suns, however his viewpoint does appear to be predominantly Lyran and his military service took place almost entirely within the Tamar Domain, facing the Clans. His current posting to the Sarna March and political activities there suggest that he is committed to furthering the integration of these worlds into the Federated Commonwealth on an equitable social and political basis, clamping down on previous exploitations.
On the surface, the prospect of an Archon-Prince with a focus on the Lyran Commonwealth’s interests would be a least-worst outcome for the Concordat. Historically our relations with the Lyrans were comparatively good and the Clans represent a threat that is as far from the Concordat as it is possible to be within the Inner Sphere. In addition, the prince’s military career - once stripped of propaganda - does not suggest that he will show the strategic excellence of his father or his maternal grandmother. Reports indicate he faced disciplinary action for challenging the orders of senior officers and very nearly lost his entire company while engaging Clan Jade Falcon under near optimal circumstances.
This is no reflection of his personal courage and he is extremely young for his current rank, but the evidence suggests that at this point he is at best of average military capability, if not a stereotypical Lyran social general. It does appear that the prince is aware of this limitation and while he is expected to continue to serve in the AFFC until at least 3055, he has moved into roles better serving his political talents. It is unfortunate for the Concordat that the young Steiner-Davion appears to have excellent political instincts. The Federated Commonwealth is not short of top-notch military officers to act on his behalf, once he ascends to his parents’ thrones.
The 3051 Raid on Luthien is key to the understanding of the threat posed by Victor Steiner-Davion. With a single brief engagement, he has secured multiple goals that will serve him well. Firstly, the parallels to the LCAF’s previous raid on Luthien in the First Succession War have cemented his military credentials sufficiently that he can justify serving out his remaining years in uniform as an instructor. Secondly, the parallels to Morgan Hasek-Davion’s raid on Sian during the Fourth Succession War have to some extent validated Omi Kurita’s presence within the Federated Commonwealth, in the same way that Candace Liao was politically rehabilitated as an ally of New Avalon during the 3030s. It is unclear how far Steiner-Davion intends to push this but it must be considered that it was the elder sister of a First Prince marrying a Kurita that allowed the Combine to press a claim on the Davion throne in the 2720s. Undoubtedly the prospect of seizing part or all of the Draconis Combine in Omi Kurita’s name would be enticing to both halves of the Federated Commonwealth.
This would, of course, provide Prince Victor with a notional three votes on the Star League Council and a theoretically unassailable claim to be First Lord of the Star League.
Miraborg, Tyra
Rank & Titles: Kapten (Kungsarme)
Daughter of Tor Miraborg, a veteran of the Ronin War and Jarl of Gunzberg, the young woman served in the planet’s militia regiment, rising rapidly to the command of a squadron in their aerospace forces. In 3049, the younger Miraborg formed an attachment with mercenary Phelan Kell when transport delays left the latter’s unit marooned on Gunzberg for an extended period. With her father’s longstanding hatred of mercenaries, the situation became a personal crisis and Kapten Miraborg resigned her commission and left her homeworld.
Although she later appeared on Rasalhague as part of the Flying Drakons, it is currently believed that in the interim Miraborg joined the Kell Hounds aerospace wing only for her ongoing romance to be cut short when Phelan Kell was killed in what was (in retrospect) the Inner Sphere’s first encounter with the Clans. Absent this personal connection, she returned to Rasalhague and elected to join the Kungsarme’s regular forces rather than face her father.
With the benefit of her previous military experience against the Clans, a rare circumstance, the Kapten received a squadron command and appears to have performed exceptionally well during the defense of Rasalhague and through all subsequent deployments of the Flying Drakons until Camlann. It is believed that only her father’s surrender to Clan Wolf, with the associated stigma, prevented her promotion to command of a full wing despite being one of the few Inner Sphere pilots to have managed to reach double-ace status against the clans - all ten of her confirmed kills are against Clan Smoke Jaguar
Tyra Miraborg was reported missing in action over Bentonvill on the first day of the Battle of Camlann. No body was recovered so her file remains open, but she is presumed dead. Her loss is certainly felt by the remaining Kungsarme’s remaining aerospace forces, as she was a rare double-ace with all her kills scored against the Clans.
CLAN PROFILES
Enders, Ace
Rank & Titles: Galaxy Commander (Epsilon Galaxy, Diamond Shark Touman)
One of the youngest and most notorious officers of the Clan Invasion, Enders early life is obscure but he reportedly joined Clan Diamond Shark at a young age, most probably originating with Clan Burrock. Alternatively, given that Clan’s recent merger with Clan Diamond Shark it is possible he is of mixed lineage with a Diamond Shark father. It’s probable that Enders had significant patronage to have attained regimental command status by his early twenties, when he was first identified during the invasion of Turtle Bay in the Draconis Combine.
During the first half of the invasion, Enders appears to have risen meteorically in military and political terms. After participating in the invasion of Pesht he defeated the senior Khan of his Clan in a duel to the death, something that was apparently rewarded with command of the Clan’s Alpha Galaxy: the equivalent of a TDF Corps. Spearheading the invasion of Luthien, Enders was credited with the death of Coordinator Takashi Kurita and became the media darling of the Diamond Shark occupation forces.
Since then, however, Enders appears to have faced a downturn in his career. Reasons are debated, including the high probability that he expected to take at least the junior Khan position after this triumph. The most likely scenario is that an earlier mis-step became known to the Clans at this point: on Turtle Bay, Enders had assisted in the suicide of the captured Hohiro Kurita - a prisoner of incalculable value. Whether this was enough to sideline him or if it was evidence used to stymie his ambitions, Enders and his entire Galaxy were sidelined as a garrison force on Luthien for the rest of the invasion.
Enders remains a prominent role within Clan Diamond Shark, he has been deployed directly against two other Clans in the political chaos caused by the Battle of Camlann, acting essentially as Khan Sennet’s champion (or less charitably as her attack dog). Despite continued success in this role, and the propaganda value of a low budget action movie using his name to pacify the conquered Draconian worlds, he has been recently removed from Alpha Galaxy and sent to command a newly formed Epsilon Galaxy which appears to be a garrison unit - something that by Clan standards would be a near fatal blow to any hopes of further advancement.
Kerensky, Ulric
Rank & Titles: Senior Khan (Clan Wolf), Galaxy Commander (Alpha Galaxy, Wolf Touman)
One of the most experienced leaders among the Clans, Khan Kerensky is reportedly a direct descendant of SLDF Commanding General Aleksandr Kerensky and served as the senior Khan of Clan Wolf for over twenty years. As a military commander, the Khan appears to be first class - his Clan have an unrivaled record of success during the Invasion and their performance during the Battle of Camlann clearly eclipsed that of any other Clan.
Much like his infamous forebear, Khan Kerensky appears to pair considerable military expertise with a cripplingly poor political performance. It appears likely that his political status owes much to the Clan’s customs allowing unpopular decisions to be challenged to trial by combat: so long as the Khan could deliver a battlefield victory, he would have his way. However, when faced with a situation that cannot be resolved in this fashion he appears to flounder.
As an example of this, the khan is reportedly one of the strongest opponents of the decision to invade, and attempted to prevent it via a ‘trial of refusal’. However, the vote was so overwhelmingly against him that despite what would otherwise have been an excellent performance, Kerensky was defeated and much as his forebear blindly obeyed the tyrannical dictates of the Camerons, he appears to have seen no option but to lead his Clan into the invasion wholeheartedly. In a similar fashion, Clan Wolf’s success on Camlann was impressive but strategically irrelevant since all the other Clans had given up already (It is believed Precentor Martial may have cold bloodedly sacrificed the Kungsarme to avoid the impression he was simply giving the Wolves the win to spare his soldier’s lives).
Clan Wolf’s occupation is reportedly one of the least intrusive of the six Clans currently occupying Inner Sphere worlds. While this is sometimes cited as benevolence on their part, it seems more probable that the Wolf Khan simply has no idea what to do with those worlds and is therefore choosing to do nothing. The principle concern with Ulric Kerensky appears to be not what he himself will do, but what he will be steered towards by more adroit leaders.
Pryde, Aidan
Rank & Titles: Star Colonel (Gyrfalcon Guards, Jade Falcon Touman)
Star Colonel Pryde appears to be an essentially average officer within Clan Jade Falcon. First reported as a garrison commander on Apollo, Pryde did not stand out in intelligence reports - like most officers in his role, he seemed to struggle in dealing with insurgencies and other resistance to the occupation. It is believed that Clan civilian populations are supine in comparison even compared to Inner Sphere standards, much less those of the free people of the Periphery.
Despite this, Pryde appears to have secured some favorable attention within his command structure and following the Battle of Twycross he was transferred to take command of the Gyrfalcon Guards, a frontline command that had been humiliated by the AFFC during the battle. It is possible that his vote on the Clan Council (similar to the Capellan House of Scions) was valuable enough for this to be a political payoff to Pryde. Presumably seeing this as his last chance to make something of his career (garrison duty being seen as essentially retirement by the Clan’s warrior elites), Pryde reorganized the unit and commanded it for the rest of the invasion.
Under Pryde’s leadership, the Gyrfalcon Guards were chosen by the Jade Falcons as part of their forces on Camlann and appear to have performed creditably in the capture of Sanhuan, allowing the Clan to claim a draw. This would have reflected well upon the Clan were it not for their traditional rivals, Clan Wolf, securing both their objectives. This has cast something of a pall over the units participating: while they didn’t disgrace themselves, they were beaten (by Clan Wolf, if not by the ComGuards).
For now, Pryde continues to serve as a frontline officer but given his age is approaching normal Inner Sphere standards for his rank, it seems likely that the youth-biased Clans will soon see him ousted by a younger and more ambitious officer. Should he survive this (by no means certain) he will likely return to a garrison role and serve out his days in relative obscurity.
Weaver, Sarah
Rank & Titles: Junior Khan (Clan Smoke Jaguar), Galaxy Commander (Beta Galaxy, Smoke Jaguar Touman)
Sarah Weaver has been second-in-command of Clan Smoke Jaguar since before the Clan Invasion, with sources suggesting she may predate Leo Showers’ time in office as the senior Khan. She appears to hold an anomalous status within her Clan - and perhaps the Clans as a whole: securely placed as the junior Khan but unable or unwilling to make the jump to overall command of her Clan.
Given the vicious ‘up or out’ culture of Clan politics, it appears unlikely that the former is the case: Weaver is certainly an extremely capable warrior and reports are that after the defeat on Camlann she was secure enough in her position to execute one of her critics directly in front of the Clan Council. (Claims she beat the officer to death before a howling mob are likely exaggerations by Draconian sources demonizing the Jaguars).
It seems more probable that Weaver has concluded that the post of senior Khan is currently too unstable and that by indicating she does not contest the role she has been able to hold onto her current status, and as a long-serving khan, to wield influence not far short of her notional superior. Given the deaths of Lincoln Osis and Mikhail Furey, both serving as senior Khans during the invasion, and the likely precarious status of the dethroned Leo Showers, it is hard to argue that Weaver’s seat may seem more appealing to her, excusing her of blame for the various debacles faced by the Clan.
With the Smoke Jaguars constrained by neighboring Clans and the Truce of Camlann, the likelihood is that there will be a period of retrenchment. This could play to Weaver’s strengths: while Leo Showers is a charismatic leader, his junior Khan seems to be the one who gets things done. It is possible that Showers will be reduced to little more than a puppet of his more cunning deputy - a fate the former ilKhan may find hard to live with.
Announcement: Stacking the Deck begins writing on November 1
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Woo! Two things:
1) Huzzah for National Writing Week and a Half! ;D
2) When did Taurian intelligence get SO good? ??? ;)
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Great! More!
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death by natural political causes
What an excellent and elegant way to phrase it.
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2) When did Taurian intelligence get SO good? ??? ;)
They didn't? The information presented in profiles could all be gleaned from public sources worked over by analysts and we can see it to be collections of hits and misses, especially in case of clanners whom they don't understand that well.
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death by natural political causes
What an excellent and elegant way to phrase it.
I giggled for a minute or two at that one, but forgot to comment on it... ;D
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Opalescent Reflections
Stacking the Deck
Chapter 1
Dali, Tamar
Clan Wolf Occupation Zone
23 August 3052
Ulric Kerensky, Khan of Clan Wolf, made sure he was presentable before the holodisplay lit up. The various marks of House Kelswa and House Steiner had been removed, replaced with Clan Wolf’s flag and Ulric draped his heavy wolfskin cloak over the back of the throne-like seat behind the desk, the head of it appearing to peer over his shoulder.
Exactly on time, the holo projector came to life and a white-haired woman appeared to be sitting opposite him. Age had reduced Cyrilla Ward’s flesh and left her with a bird-like delicacy but her eyes were still sharp and missed nothing. “Khan Ulric,” she offered in greeting.
“Cyrilla,” he replied with a respectful bow of his head. She’d been junior khan once, before Ulric had become Kerlin Ward’s choice for the role, and now she was leader of the Ward Bloodhouse, one of the most prestigious among Clan Wolf. “I trust that matters are well on Strana Mechty?”
She shrugged. “The Hellions’ tantrum has died down and the Blood Spirits keep poking at the Diamond Sharks, as if that will go well. I am not sure what they expect.”
Ulric nodded. The Blood Spirits and the Burrocks had been squabbling since the earliest days of the Clans. When Clan Diamond Shark presented evidence to that would justify eradicating their ancient rivals, the Spirit Khans had been delighted - only for the Diamond Sharks to cut a deal that, while technically legal, pressed against the boundaries of the Clans traditions. “Blood,” he said simply.
Cyrilla chuckled. “They are getting that. I saw a real Diamond Shark once, and the Clan lives up to it.”
The Khan frowned. Clan Diamond Shark was a problem. “I would not mind if the Clan were to suffer some reverses,” he admitted, “But Clan Blood Spirit is unlikely to provide one.”
“Their continued invasion,” she agreed. “Will House Kurita be the ones to take the Sharks down a peg for you?”
“It seems unlikely. Sennet is not making the sort of progress she did two years ago, but worlds are falling and their fresh warriors are eager for action.”
The old woman looked around, presumably examining his office. “Is your concern her young warriors or our own?”
A face flashed before Ulric’s eyes. “It may be a concern in the future,” he allowed. “For now we have Smoke Jaguars and Jade Falcons to let them get their teeth wet, but the more they see other Clans winning worlds from the Inner Sphere…” He tailed off. “Cyrilla, I may have made a mistake in nominating Natasha Kerensky as my saKhan.”
That got a sharp reaction from the old veteran. “Tasha is my sibkin,” she warned him with the sharp loyalty of a wolf for their pack.
“Yes, and you know her well.” As well as anyone in the Clans… after almost fifty years of separation.
“Well enough to know that she will be clawing at the walls if she’s somewhere like…” Cyrilla frowned. “Where are you, anyway? It seems… luxurious.”
Ulric stroked his short beard. “This was the office of the Duke of Tamar. Luxurious is putting it kindly - Conal claimed it was outright decadent and for once he may have had a point. However, it has all the facilities needed to govern a region as large as our occupation zone.”
The palace as a whole was also large enough to house not only Ulric’s staff, but the entire garrison of Tamar It kept them conveniently away from the civilian population - no doubt the Lyrans had left agents and assassins who would pick off targets of opportunity, and when that happened the Clan Council would demand reprisals… Ulric could see how that was working out for Clan Smoke Jaguar and wanted none of it. The Clans’ destiny was to protect the Inner Sphere, but too many of the other Clans lusted for conquest and the wealth that came to it.
“I can see why she does not like it,” observed Cyrilla. “What is it that bothers you, Ulric? Her loss to that Enders’ whelp?”
He made a dismissive gesture. “I do not think anyone else would have done better. It would have been far better if she won, but Ace Enders is building an impressive legend.”
“If you can win any claim on his bloodline…” the house leader hinted.
“We would not be the first to try,” Ulric told her drily. Although it would be a way to let some of the younger warriors in the Crusader blow off steam, and cull their numbers. “What concerns me is her sudden interest in politics.”
That startled the woman, she sat back in her own chair and looked at him quizzically.
“Natasha has been talking a great deal with my own sibkin, Erik. He has been introducing her to those of a like mind with him.”
“Uff…” Cyrilla murmured, eyes distant. “Conal’s death has left the Crusader bloc without a clear leader, do you think Erik is trying to fill that gap?”
As the commander of Delta Galaxy, Conal Ward had recently done Clan Wolf the great favor of defeating the Smoke Jaguar’s bid for transit rights to join Clan Jade Falcon and Clan Nova Cat in striking deeper into the Federated Commonwealth. To Ulric’s mind, the ardent Crusader had done a bigger favor by dying to a cockpit hit during the trial. Most of his proteges were eager to take revenge on the Jaguars and that was keeping them distracted.
And unless the Smoke Jaguars suddenly developed the capacity to extend their supply lines hundreds of light years around the Wolf Occupation Zone, that meant that they had no chance of participation in either side of the invasion. Clan Diamond Shark certainly wasn’t going to share conquests even with their Ghost Bear allies, so the Jaguars would have no chance.
“Erik rarely puts himself forward like that,” he said out loud. “But he is one of the sharpest minds among our more traditional brethren. He may be sounding Natasha out to fill the role. She does not lack for charisma.”
“Charisma is one thing,” Cyrilla told him, “but Tasha has no patience for politics. Have you spoken to her about this, quaiff?”
“Aff. She said she was ‘knocking some sense into him’ when it came to freeborn warriors.”
“Good news if she can manage it. We need them - half the touman being posted to the Inner Sphere means our forces here are stretched. Four years to bring the civilian-born up through training is much faster than the twenty years for a sibko to be raised.”
“Longer than that considering incubation time - and the time the Scientists need to argue over which genes to use.”
“Twenty, twenty-one…” Cyrilla flicked her hand. “The point stands.”
“Yes, but I have not been able to talk Erik around on this point since we were children,” Ulric observed. “No one will be happier than I if Natasha succeeds, but for her to be making progress like this makes little sense. It seems out of character for her.”
“I would not have expected this,” the old woman allowed thoughtfully. “I will twit her about this later. But in some ways I am not surprised - she was always going to cause you a headache somehow. Expecting Natasha to simply behave is never wise. She has too much energy, and too much pride, to quietly take orders.”
The khan exhaled. “On that, we agree. Perhaps I am being too sensitive.” Erik would be a strong ally if Natasha could talk him around. Was he just feeling jealous that someone other than himself was managing it? Or was some deal being cut. If so, he doubted that Natasha would be the one coming out on top[/
They paused for a moment and then Cyrilla shook her head. “Moving to the purpose of our meeting… you wish to discuss the Trials for Conal’s bloodright?”
“Aff. His death in battle has raised his reputation rather than diminish it. I am sure many warriors are hoping for a chance to claim the bloodright.”
That got a nod. “The grand melee will be exciting. Deferring the trial until warriors can reach the Inner Sphere to participate is just giving more time for youngsters to get their hopes up.”
“And for the Bloodnamed to make sure that their candidates are sufficiently prepared,” Ulric agreed. “Have you decided on your own choices?” All of those bearing the Ward bloodname could make a single nomination, but as the house leader Cyrilla could make eight nominations - filling out the roster to thirty-one, who would then be joined by the winner of the melee.
“Not officially,” she admitted frankly. “We have many promising young warriors, and until everyone else has made their choices I can delay.” Which meant more time for favors to be offered by those who had more than one name in mind for the trials. “The only one I have committed to is Conal’s choice, I cannot buck that tradition.”
“His aide, Vladimir?” asked Ulric, recalling an intense face with a widow’s peak of dark hair.
“Young Vlad has considerable potential,” Cyrilla agreed. “I like his chances… unfortunately he is very much of Conal’s mindset.”
“I am aware.” Ulric was not a believer in destiny or other supernatural matters, but Vlad seemed drawn repeatedly into conflict with the khan’s own protege, Phelan. Indeed, he was the one who had captured the young Inner Sphere mechwarrior in the first place. “Has he ever mentioned my bondsman to you?”
Her lips curled in a smile. “Repeatedly. I wish to meet this young man, Ulric. Reading between the lines of Vlad’s account, he seems formidable. Not that this should surprise anyone, since he has Ward ancestry.”
“I will send him to meet you on New Oslo,” Ulric agreed. The world was where Conal had died, and had been chosen as the site for the Trial of Bloodright for his successor in the Clan Council.
Cyrilla paused. “You would like me to sponsor him?”
Ulric leant back and steepled his fingers. “If you find him worthy. His maternal lineage is Ward, so it would be legal. And his paternal lineage is apparently exceptional… the warrior in question fought on Luthien and reportedly brought down at least five Diamond Shark ‘mechs without ever taking serious damage.”
“Impressive. There might be a challenge to this,” Cyrilla warned. “No spheroid has ever been given a chance to win a bloodname. The Grand Council could step in.”
Ulric smiled. “No spheroid, but the chance has been offered to someone born outside the Clans before.”
Cyrilla arched an eyebrow.
“Sennet’s favorite ristar,” Ulric told her. “Ace Enders was born among the dark caste. So the Sharks will have to back us against any criticism. And if it comes to a trial of refusal, in either direction, I can trust it to Natasha.”
“She will be motivated,” Cyrilla agreed wryly. “Let me meet him first and then we will see what I make of his chances. But in exchange, I want you to send Natasha as well - it is far too long since we have met.”
“Surely the Smoke Jaguars will tremble to know that you are both on their border,” Ulric agreed readily. It would get Natasha away from Erik for a while and give him a chance to feel his sibkin out, to see what was really going on.
Hilton Head, North America
Terra, Sol System
23 November 3052
Wei Rong smiled fondly as her secretary peered cautiously around the door. After her previous secretary moved on and up to run his own HPG station, the Primus had been amused to see a familiar face in the list of potential candidates.
Having reassured herself that the Primus was fully clad, Tanya Serebryakov entered the office carrying a plate of pastries in one hand and a datapad in the other. “Your mid-morning snack, Primus. And two priority messages.” She knocked the door shut with her hip before crossing the room to Wei’s desk.
“Ah sweet temptation,” Wei mused, banishing the existing displays. She raised her arms high and stretched before accepting both plate and datapad.
Seeing the datapad was from the HPG not a planetary matter, the Primus concluded that it could wait until she’d eaten and set it aside. “Want one?” she offered generously, picking up a Danish stacked with intermixed cream and lemon curds.
Serebryakov’s eyes widened fractionally as Wei licked some of the soft topping off the crisp pastry. “I don’t know how you keep your figure,” she admitted, not taking one for herself. “I think my waist got wider just carrying the plate.”
“Rigorous exercise,” the more experienced woman answered. “You’re welcome to join me.”
The adept’s ears went pink. “No thank you, ma’am.”
“Are you sure? Yoga is very good for one’s health and flexibility.”
“Uh, I’ll think about it?”
Wei nodded in satisfaction, before biting into the pastry. One step closer to getting her secretary into snug exercise gear. The younger woman’s looks weren’t why she chosen, but if a tiebreaker had been needed it would have likely been in Serebryakov’s favor. Mmmm, this was delicious.
Seeing that her secretary’s face was still ruddier than usual, Wei went back to the datapad rather than taking another pastry. “Two priorities… both from Sian? Did we get a duplicate?”
“No, Primus.” Serebryakov shook her head briskly. “I checked and it’s two different messages. The HPG was spinning up for the first priority when the second was received so they were sent together.”
“One from the Chancellor, one from…” she blinked. “A St Ives diplomatic code? On Sian? Did Allard-Liao take his aunt’s throne and no one told me?” DRUM would be answering some harsh questions if that was the case. Duke Kai Allard-Liao’s advance was pushing closer to Capella, probably the most important world in the Capellan Confederation except for the capital on Sian, but if he’d managed to pull forces aside for a sudden decapitation attack, that would change the entire nature of the war between the two branches of House Liao.
“Not that I’m aware,” the younger woman reported. “Should I check?”
“No, let’s see what they have to say.” Wei selected the Chancellor’s message first, wondering what Romano Liao was after.
The message was 2-D, once Wei had the datapad secured to her desk console it replayed on the screen that made up one wall of the office. The first surprise was who was sat upon the Confederation’s throne - a young man in immaculate chinese robes.
“Sun-Tzu Liao,” Wei clarified for a puzzled looking Serebryakov.
“The chancellor’s son?”
“That would involve time travel, given where he’s sitting.” Although it was possible he’d repeated his mother’s course of action and locked a clearly insane parent up, acting as a ‘deputy’ Chancellor.
“Oh!” Serebryakov didn’t miss that clue.
“Madame Primus.” Sun-Tzu didn’t bow but he did incline his head fractionally, acknowledging someone who - by protocol at least - was his near-equal. “As I am sure you have realized, there has been a change of leadership within the Capellan Confederation. By the time that you receive this message, I expect that a formal announcement of my accession to the throne of my honored ancestors will have reached the House of Scions. As Chancellor, I look forward to a future of improved relations with ComStar and with the other interstellar nations.”
There was a moment’s pause, which Wei assumed was to allow her a moment to pause and consider the remark. Considerate of him.
“I am aware that you and my mother were, if not friends, at least occasional correspondents. While she had no last messages for you, I believe it is only reasonable to settle any curiosity over her passing that you might have. My mother, distraught at the course of the war with my cousin the Duke of St Ives, elected to end her own life. My father attempted to restrain her and regrettably suffered a fatal injury from her chosen weapon of suicide.” Sun-Tzu was a good liar, he looked at the camera with every sign of regret and mourning for being orphaned so tragically.
Having met Romano, Wei was certain that the story was horseshit. It wasn’t impossible that she might have killed her consort - she was tempestuous at the best of times. But she was also far too self-centered to end her own life, much less over a war she considered everyone else’s fault.
Possibly the younger Liao had decided to take the throne before his cousin seized it. Or perhaps it had been a falling out where his father accidentally killed Romano in self-defense. But suicide?
“That sounds awfully Draconian,” Serebryakov said slowly.
“Quite so, Tanya. It’s the official account and therefore we can assume that it’s at least glossing over the ugly details,” the Primus agreed, pausing the replay briefly so she could respond.
“I am aware that my grandfather declined the services of ComStar to conclude the Fourth Succession War, twenty-three years ago,” the young Chancellor continued. “That may have been the right decision then, but this is a different time. Given the continued threat posed by the Clans, I believe that the current conflict between the Capellan Confederation and the St Ives Compact is an unnecessary distraction. I am therefore formally asking that you mediate our dispute with the goal of a peaceful resolution.”
Wei made a face but watched the rest of the message, which was little more than polite courtesies and an entirely pro forma invitation to attend the ceremonies that would formally recognise Sun-Tzu as the new Chancellor.
“Should I draft a reply?” asked Serebryakov when the message reached its end.
“I should probably decide if I’m going to accept or not first,” Wei told her. “The Captain-General already tried to rein this in and he didn’t get anywhere. That young man is hitting all the right notes to convince me that it’s in ComStar’s interests to back him, but he’s losing the war which means he’s clutching at straws.”
She tapped the second message on the datapad. “Let’s see who this is from. I can only hold my curiosity back so far.” With her other hand, she picked up another pastry. “Are you sure you don’t want one? They’re delicious.”
Serebryakov hesitated and then accepted the last pastry on the plate with a guilty look on her face.
Then the second message began to play. “Greetings, Primus Rong Wei.” Wei dropped the pastry back onto the plate and jabbed the pause command.
Serebryakov had her own pastry halfway into her mouth to bite and stood frozen for a second as they both looked at Duchess Candace Liao’s face. The leader of the St Ives Compact was sitting in front of a neutral background, wearing a dress that wasn’t up to the usual standards of a nation’s ruler.
Of course, she’d also been killed over two years ago by a Capellan assassin. Or so it had been reported.
“Is that -” Serebryakov lowered her pastry.
“It looks like her,” Wei admitted. “Eat up, we might need the calories.” She matched action to words, devouring her pastry as she considered the possibilities. “Mu may be able to confirm if this is really her,” she continued once the morsel had been swallowed. “But for now I’ll listen to the message.”
“As you may have guessed,” the duchess continued once the recording resumed, “Rumors of my death have been exaggerated. After recovering from my injuries, I have traveled to Sian and concluded a frank exchange of views with my sister regarding her behavior. This has resolved our personal differences to my satisfaction, but it does leave the other fall-out from my husband’s death and my own absence to be resolved.”
“Like a little war?” Wei shot back, not that the source of the message could hear her.
Candace glanced away from the camera for an instant and then stared directly into it. “The current war wasn’t part of my plans, but as I’m sure you’re aware, once a war begins it isn’t easily stopped. Thomas Marik’s attempt to broker a peace was doomed by the fact that he’s a Marik as much as by the fact that my sister was one of those he had to work with.”
“My nephew is more reasonable than Romano, and you have a more neutral position to work with, And, of course, my own support. I expect Sun-Tzu to contact you to request your mediation and hope that you’ll accept. Too many of the Capellan people have died already and the distraction is affecting the preparations to fight the Clans. As you were born within the Confederation, I’d hope that both of these arguments carry weight with you.”
The duchess - if she was genuine - lowered her head, apparently in fatigue. “I will return to St Ives now, and once I am home, my survival should become public and you can contact me via the usual channels there.”
“At the risk of being dramatic, Primus, you may be the only hope to end this war before it becomes much worse.”
The message cut out sharply and Wei leant back in her chair and exhaled. “We definitely need to know if that’s the real Candace Liao or not.”
“Do you think it’s a trick?” her secretary asked, a little cream from the pastry decorating her upper lip. “It’s hard to imagine Duke Allard-Liao being angrier with the Capellans than he already is, but if they created a fake of his mother…”
“Mmm. And there’s already speculation that Chancellor - the old Chancellor - was ordering strategic weapons deployed to defend Capella from her nephew. It’s hard to imagine anyone using those - even House Kurita held back when they fought for Luthien. But it wasn’t unthinkable that Romano Liao might take desperate measures to retain Capella.”
Serebryakov shivered.
Wei gestured for her to lean over. The younger woman hesitated and then obeyed. Wei reached up and wiped the smudge cream off her lip with one thumb. “Messy eater,” she chided as Serebryakov flushed. Then, for her own amusement, Wei licked the cream off her thumb
“P-primus!” the secretary yelped and backed up, looking mortified.
Having got the reaction she wanted, Wei unplugged the datapad. “I’ll hold off on any response for now. I want both messages checked by Mu division to see if they’re from who they claim to be. If I’m going to accept, I’ll need to talk to Focht and see what we’ve got available to play peace-keeper. Boots on the ground matter.”
“It shouldn’t be that hard,” the brunette offered. “I mean, both of them seem to want to end the war.”
“Yes, but the problem is…” Wei shook her head. “Did you ever hear that it takes two to fight? That’s rubbish. It takes one to start a fight, it takes both sides to accept that it’s over. We still haven’t heard from the other side.”
“...what do you mean? We have the Capellans and St Ives.”
“Do we?” the Primus asked. “Candace Liao, if that is her, has been away for two years. She isn’t calling any of the shots for St Ives until and unless her son accepts her. And what do you think Kai Allard-Liao will have to say about this?”
-
Kincha Mountains, Pesht
Diamond Shark Dominion
18 December 3052
Ace Enders had been told that his destination was picturesque. It wasn’t a word he was familiar with, he’d had to look it up and been genuinely surprised to learn it wasn’t from the ‘japanese’ language that the Draconis Combine appeared to prefer to Star League English.
So far as he was concerned, the dictionary could stuff it. The word evidently meant ‘primitive and inconvenient’.
Oh, the mountainous valley was pretty, he’d grant that. But the paths were (deliberately as far as he could tell) too narrow for any motor vehicles wider than a meter to pass safely and far too twisty for most of those. He’d been left with no alternative but hiking up the trails on foot.
Granted, it wasn’t as bad as survival training with the sibko, one of the many (oh so very many) classes where he’d found himself years behind his peers. But it had taken him half the day to reach his destination high up on the side of the valley and he doubted very much if the return journey would be any faster.
Nonetheless, he’d finally reached his destination and the young Galaxy Commander emerged from the trees that covered the slopes, likely holding them together as much as the bones of the mountain beneath, to find a house that…
Well, it wasn’t a shack, Ace corrected his first impression. It was large and well made, not to mention well-cared for. But it was also timber and wood, in the ancient style mimicked slavishly by House Kurita and their servants, the sort of building that might have been found on Terra more than a thousand years ago. It was entirely possible, he thought, that the makers had even used the same methods rather than power tools.
Emerging from the trees had exposed him to the sun, which was now high in the sky. Sheltering his eyes, Ace uncapped his water bottle and sipped from it as he let his eyes adjust to the brightness.
Satisfied, Ace looked around for signs of the inhabitants. No one was outside that he could see, but a coil of smoke rose from one of the chimneys, behind the left wing of the house.
Following what he understood of local practices, Ace walked up the steps onto the veranda and unlaced his boots, leaving them on the top step. He followed the walkway to his left, around the corner of the house. As he followed the side of the building, a clanging noise came from ahead of him - metal striking metal.
It sounded… no, it wasn’t mechanical. Rhythmic, but under the control of a living person. Perhaps this was who he was looking for.
At the back of the house, a courtyard was framed by the house, two outbuildings and a cliff that rose up above all three. The floor between them was paved and swept so clean that Ace almost didn’t worry about walking over it in his socks. One of the outbuildings was clearly a storehouse, but the other was the source of both the smoke and the chimney. As he walked closer, feet chilled by the stone, Ace could hear the rustle of someone moving and deep, steady breathing.
“Suzuki Satoru?” he called.
The clanging cut off with a clatter and then quick footsteps to the door of the… workshop perhaps?
The man who emerged wore a heavy leather apron over a dull green kimono and baggy pants in the style of a DCMS uniform. He was gray-haired and his face was lined visibly, looking out at Ace with his hands on the door frame - no, one on the door frame and the other hidden by it - most likely holding a weapon.
“That is my name,” the man confirmed flatly. His eyes swept up and down Ace. “Do you often walk into someone’s home uninvited?”
“I didn’t see any bell or buzzer.”
That got a muttered word that Ace didn’t catch. “I am working. What do you want?”
“I believe you sent a letter of protest,” the Diamond Shark told him, pulling a printout from the thigh pocket of his pants. “It was judged important enough to respond directly.”
The man frowned. “More than I expected. I need to clean up. Go wait out front and I’ll show you how to knock.”
Ace gave a slight bow and then returned to the walkway, heading back around the house to the front. Hopefully this wasn’t a means to keep him waiting as a lynch mob was assembled. He had his side arm and a radio, but those likely wouldn’t be enough to keep him alive if the locals were serious about killing him. Then again, there was almost nothing they could do to stop the garrison from burning the valley out with napalm, so hopefully they wouldn’t think it was worthwhile.
After a few minutes that felt considerably longer, Satoru opened the front door of the house. “For your general fund of information,” he instructed and pulled on the back of one of the pillars either side of the steps leading up to the door. The section swung out and when he released it, it returned to its previous position with a loud thunk. “It’s a tradition from worlds where metal isn’t so common.”
“I do not recall Pesht being short of metals.” Few industrial worlds were.
“Custom even so. It is polite.” The last word was weighted deliberately.
Ace inclined his head. “Thank you for the lesson.”
He was ushered inside to the main room where a low table was waiting. Satoru knelt on one side and Ace sat on the other, wishing that there was at least a cushion as he copied his host. The room was somewhat dim, without any artificial lights. Each corner of the room had a triangular shelving stack with an unlit oil lamp on the top shelf, presumably the light sources used at night.
“So, you are here about my letter.”
“Aff,” Ace agreed. He laid it on the table and let the other man check it.
“Yes, this is what I wrote,” he agreed. “I didn’t think I’d get a reply, much less a visit. Well, except maybe a firing squad.”
So we’re being tested, Ace concluded. I thought as much. “I will not pretend there are no people who might respond like that. Some in the Clans, some in the Combine. I would expect a DCMS veteran to be aware of that.”
Satoru’s eyes widened fractionally at the admission that Ace had researched him before visiting. He must have had a low level of expectation. “So, are you going to remove the ban on sword ownership? Just because I asked you.”
Ace shook his head. “I’m here because I think you - and potentially a lot of other people - have misunderstood our laws. We do not ban the ownership of swords and if the belief that we do is preventing you from selling the swords you make, I want to correct that.”
The swordsmith frowned. “You say that you don’t ban swords, but you have a law that means that only your warrior caste can be armed.”
“What does it mean to be armed?”
“Carrying a weapon,” the older man said impatiently.
“Carrying a weapon that can be used,” Ace amended reasonably. “Transporting a weapon with no intention and, at least arguably, no means to use it, is not being armed.”
Suzuki’s frown deepened. “What use is a sword that can’t be used?”
“I carried a pair of swords for a year, more or less,” he pointed out. “I used them once.”
The eyes looking at him narrowed. “You are the famous Ace Enders.”
“Famous?”
“Oh yes. Your duel was here on Pesht. You are quite well known.”
Ace considered that and then spread his hands. “I am well known, and I am quite senior in rank. I am aware that some of my fellow warriors have likewise claimed swords as trophies. There is no barrier to them carrying weapons, and we are not in the custom of carrying weapons we cannot use. So that is one market for your swords. The other lies in the distinction that swords are not just weapons.”
Satoru folded his arms. “Are you telling me to make swords that are just display pieces?”
“So long as your clients are not carrying the swords outside of their private property, that is not banned. Perhaps it is decorative. Perhaps it is a training aid for kendo. We have no need to investigate everything that can possibly be used to kill people - can you imagine if we tried to block the ownership of kitchen knives?” Ace asked rhetorically, keeping his tone light.
“Hmm.” The swordsmith closed his eyes in thought. “The sword has been the mark of a samurai, a warrior of the Draconis Combine, for a very long time. I think you underestimate how important it is to my people.”
Ace smiled slightly. “Your people… or our people? We are recruiting locally, training candidates from worlds in the Inner Sphere to become warriors of Clan Diamond Shark. They are being trained in our ways and methods, but they are also from these worlds. What do you think they will do once they have warrior status and have the right to carry weapons?”
“You want samurai of the Shark, rather than the Dragon.”
“Whether I want it or not hardly matters,” he told Satoru. “We are here, amid the people of these worlds. We shape those who live here and they will shape us - unless we cut ourselves off entirely which would be less than productive. Will they call themselves samurai? I have no idea. But if a sword is the mark of a warrior, then warriors will seek swords. That much is predictable.”
The older man sighed and unfolded his arms. “It is something. More than I expected.”
“Our castes are also more complex than I think you appreciate,” Ace continued. “Among our Clan, it is accepted that older warriors may retire and take up other professions.”
“I heard that they are encouraged to die in battle first,” Satoru snorted.
“Some choose that. And there are Clans where that is normal. Most Diamond Sharks consider that wasteful. And - an interesting point of law here - no one may change their caste. A warrior who takes up another profession, that of crafting weapons, to give an example…”
Satoru’s eyes narrowed and he gestured with one hand for Ace to continue.
“They are still considered to be warriors, at least as long as they can maintain fitness for battle. They are simply in reserve. So they too can carry weapons.” Ace raised one finger. “Also, we consider those who serve as police to be warriors. Again, qualified to be armed. And we extend this to those who we have brought into our Clan. I do not think that your markets have been as affected as you believed.”
The old man closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “That was not my understanding. I see that I too must thank you for the lesson.”
Ace waited a moment before concluding: “A warrior who has retired, who is brought into our Clan, might also be said to be a warrior. Sho-sa.”
Satoru’s eyes snapped open. “Do not mock me,” he demanded, voice sharp.
“I do not,” Ace told him quietly. “You trained and qualified as a warrior. You went to war. You retired and now serve in another role. If you pass the fitness tests and swear an oath of loyalty to Clan Diamond Shark, you may carry a sword proudly.”
The old man growled. “No. I will never swear that oath.”
Ace had never been much for fishing, but he knew that once the hook and bait was in the water, patience was called for. He said nothing.
Absent any reply, it was Satoru who filled the silence. “I will not. I served under Takashi Kurita. I swore my oath to him and… I would not serve his son. I will not serve your Clan.”
“Then do not. It is your choice.”
Satoru glared at him. “You said you had swords, what happened to them?”
“The sister of the man who carried them before me, won them.” Ace told him honestly. “I do not suppose…”
“I just told you!” the swordsmith snarled. “My oath was to Takashi Kurita. Do you think I will arm the man who killed my lord?!” He raised his chin defiantly.
After a moment’s thought, Ace spread his hands. “One never knows until one asks.”
“I would rather die.”
“As much as I have heard your skills praised, I do not believe you are the only swordsmith on Pesht, much less the Inner Sphere.”
Satoru’s face fell, looking defeated. “Do I matter so little to you?”
Ace pulled himself to his feet. “Whether or not we carry swords, we both have to carry our own honor and decide what it means. If your honor means refusing to take an oath and refusing to make a sword, so be it. I do not need to stain your honor to maintain mine.”
He walked to the door and then looked back. “I hope my answers are satisfactory.”
“Why can you not be the sort of man I would despise?” the old swordsmith asked bitterly.
The commander of Epsilon Galaxy shrugged. “There is always tomorrow. Perhaps I will live down to your expectations then.” He pulled on his boots and laced them up one at a time. “But if you want to be a martyr, I will have to disappoint you.”
He had taken two steps towards the path when Satoru called out: “Enders.”
Ace stopped and looked back.
“I may make swords for your warriors one day. If I think them worthy. As for whether others like me will take oaths for the right to wear their blades…” The gray-haired samurai sighed heavily. “That, as you say, will come down to their honor.”
-
Score another one for Ace... Well played! ;)
-
So far as he was concerned, the dictionary could stuff it. The word evidently meant ‘primitive and inconvenient’.
Ace can be such a stereotypical clanner sometimes.
“I do not suppose…”
It's a miracle Satoru didn't try to strangle the cheeky bugger right there.
-
Opalescent Reflections
Stacking the Deck
Chapter 2
Carson Rift, Morges
Tamar March, Federated Commonwealth
12 January 3053
Snow was compressed to join the ice under the feet of Star Colonel Aidan Pryde’s Summoner. The ice sheets that the Gyrfalcon Guards were advancing across were slippery and poor footing, but the challenges of dealing with that had been addressed a long time ago and he strode across them with confidence.
A volley of long-range missiles plunged towards Aidan’s ‘mech and he side-stepped, the anti-missile system next to his cockpit spitting flechettes up to slash at the handful of missiles that managed to track the rapidly moving Summoner out of the sky. Only a single missile survived the gauntlet to scar the green painted armor plating.
Aidan saw the source of the missiles trying to get back behind the cover on the slope ahead. As he dragged the crosshairs of his own weapons across the sea of ash and ivory snow, he dialed up the magnification of his display.
Just before he had his shot lined up, the Zeus he was tracking fired the weapon mounted in its left arm.
According to the warbook, the Zeus mounted a mid-weight autocannon there. Aidan had never encountered one before - they were a design that post-dated Kerensky’s Exodus from the Inner Sphere and therefore none were in Clan service. ComStar also preferred older SLDF designs for the most part so none had been deployed against the Jade Falcons on Camlann.
The flash of a PPC reminded the Star Colonel that warbook data could be wrong! The charged particles blazed across the space between the two ‘mechs and shaved away almost half the protection layered over the Summoner’s side.
Aidan blinked, clearing the momentary blindness of the flaring weapons and then fired his own weapons. First his own PPC, then the pulse laser in the Summoner’s left arm (replacing the usual autocannon). He saw the PPC’s blast rip into the rounded shoulder of the arm supporting its PPC. The laser pulses missed as the Zeus retreated entirely out of view behind a ridge in the ice, but the heat of its own weapons and the mass of metal weren’t entirely enough to avoid the notice of his sensor’s.
His own LRMs arced up and the Zeus apparently had no anti-missile system - the explosions suggested that at least some missiles had found a home on something more substantial than snow and ice.
Pushing the Summoner up the slope, Aidan saw the thermal signature vanish. The Zeus must be sporting an advanced cooling system similar to his own. Another feature not commonly found in the ‘mechs used by the Successor Lords. “Gyrfalcons,” he warned his troops. “These Lyrans appear to have upgraded their equipment. Assume their capabilities are close to ComGuards ‘mechs, perhaps even those of the SLDF.”
There was a string of acknowledgements and Aidan saw that the rough line of his Cluster were still making progress towards the highlands above. That was good. He didn’t want to give the defenders a chance to disengage and turn this into the sort of hit and run operations they preferred.
The blue-and-white painted Zeus appeared again as Aidan reached the ridge. It had been waiting for him and fired another blistering volley down towards him.
There was a broad similarity to their armament, the Jade Falcon concluded as he fired his jump-jets at the last minute. The blazing beam of particles passed beneath the Summoner’s feet, as did most of the missiles fired. A line of damage was carved across one shin as a laser tracked up and just barely managed to make contact.
On the other hand, the Zeus was larger, slower and probably not as well armored as the Summoner. Still inferior to Clan war machines. It couldn’t get away.
The cold climate let Aidan fire with little regard for heat building up. He discharged the PPC at a downward angle, before he began to descend, hoping for a hit on the multi-faceted cockpit. The Lyran wasn’t that incompetent though - he dodged sideways and took the shot to the shoulder, then the laser pulses smashed into the skirt-like plating around the hips.
The PPC impact was against the same shoulder that had been hit earlier and Aidan’s missiles, fired as he landed, arced up before raining down to do more damage to the barrel-like joints. Something within the Zeus’s left shoulder broke and the arm that depended on it went limp.
Deprived of one of its major weapon systems, the Zeus went from combatant to prey and Aidan instinctively closed in for the kill.
Before he could fire again, long experience warned him not to tunnel vision. That last glance around saved his life as a pair of ‘mechs opened fire from the rocks above. Throwing the Summoner into a slide that cost him several meters of progress climbing the glacial slope, but spared him hits from a pair of PPCs and a pair of lasers.
The Zeus was scrambling up towards its saviors - a pair of domed cockpits that Aidan recognised only too well. “Griffins? No, Hippogriffs,” he concluded and an instant later the warbook agreed. These were the same sort of upgunned Griffins that the ComGuards had used on Camlann.
Taking cover on the lower side of the ridge that had sheltered the Zeus, Aidan popped out and fired upwards at the retreating assault mech. He couldn’t get a good line on it with his energy weapons, but the twenty-tubes of his expanded LRM launcher spat a full volley into the rear of the Zeus, shaving its armor paper thin.
Then another fusillade of energy weapon fire forced Aidan to drop behind cover again.
In shelter, he took an instant to pull up a replay of the quick glimpse he had of the two medium ‘mechs. The light paint at first looked like the ComGuards, but he saw enough of the blue trim to be sure these were Lyrans. Good, the Khans had been clear that another clash with the ComGuards was to be avoided rather than risk the sort of interdiction that had so hampered the Smoke Jaguars.
Aidan was of two minds about that. The ComGuards were worthy adversaries, defenders of one of the last remains of the Star League. But at the same time, the Lyrans and their Federated Commonwealth alliance were the mightiest of the Successor States and it was elementary tactics to deal with one foe at a time.
Turning the renewed invasion into a melee would not be clever.
He checked the tactical situation. Most of the Gyrfalcon Guards were still in line with him, indicating that they must have also been slowed or stopped.
“Headquarters,” he called, reaching out to the technical staff and warrior-analysts aboard the cluster’s dropships. “Resistance is stiffening on the heights, what are we dealing with?”
“An aerospace point has broken past their air defenses,” one of the technicians replied. “They will be overhead and able to give us additional data within two minutes.”
“Good,” Aidan congratulated the woman. Fighting at the head of a Cluster was both like and unlike piloting his ‘mech. At times he had a sense that all the warriors under his command could be directed like the weapons of his Summoner, but at the same time, they and the support staff were not machines. They required encouragement and reprimand in ways that would be redundant for a ‘mech.
Whether it was better or worse that way would be an interesting question to discuss with Horse, he thought and glanced at the display, looking for his friend’s Star. They had been on the left flank carrying… He blinked and saw only three ‘mech indicators in position and less than half the Elemental markers.
“Beta-Nova-Prime?” he called. “What is your situation?”
It wasn’t Horse who replied, but one of the elemental officers. “Several air defense tanks were dug in on the edge of the approach, Star Colonel. We took several casualties from their guns before they were taken out.”
“Killed and wounded?” Aidan asked, a chill going through him at the prospect of why Horse was unable to reply.
“Four warriors dead and four wounded,” the man answered. His name was Taman, Aidan recalled, a recent addition to the Gyrfalcon Guards. “I assigned Mechwarrior Diana to carry the wounded back to the dropship, with two elementals to keep the wounded stable. Her Nova took heavy damage shielding Star Commander Horse’s fallen ‘mech from the enemy autocannon.”
“The Star Commander is among the wounded, quiaff?”
“Aff.”
Aidan considered the tactical situation. “All Gyrfalcons, we have aerial reconnaissance inbound. Prepare for orders once I know what the Lyrans are preparing. It may be that a counterattack is about to be launched.”
The contrails of two Jade Falcon aerospace fighters crossing the sky above the heights was met with tracer fire from autocannon. Clearly the tanks taken out by Taman had not been the only ones. Black smoke joined white air vapor, indicating some hits had been scored but Aidan didn’t see either crash.
“Headquarters,” he demanded. “What do you see?”
“Looking at the data now… dropships! Star Colonel, the enemy have concealed dropships on the heights. They appear to be loading and preparing to launch.”
Aidan nodded. “Are we dealing with civilian freighters or military transports?” That would make all of the difference to what he should order now.
“At least two Overlord-class transports and several Union-class. It is possible that some of the others are freighters.”
“Excellent work,” he congratulated. “Gyrfalcons, the enemy is withdrawing. Resume the advance but be careful not to advance into gun range of their dropships.” Military transports could board and secure ‘mechs quickly enough that they’d take off before the Gyrfalcon Guards could inflict crippling damage - which would make the return fire from the dropships’ heavy armament a bad trade-off. “Make sure that you’re sharing your sensor data with my staff. Each Star is to detail the most damaged ‘mech to rearguard.”
Aidan didn’t join the advance, letting other warriors gain the glory of the advance. Regrouping with the rest of his command star, he only kept one eye on the action, instead contacting his staff again.
“I want a detailed count of all the Lyran units we encountered, which machines we confirmed as destroyed and which we confirmed as evacuated,” he instructed them. “Check against our intelligence of what their full strength should be. There will still be resistance here once the Lyrans have withdrawn, warriors who were left behind and armed civilians. We need to know what may have been left behind.”
“Aff, Star Colonel. We may not be able to make a complete list but we will gather as much data as we can.”
“Do so. We do not have long before the garrison forces arrive and it would be a stain on the honor of the Gyrfalcon Guards if the garrison has to face an organized military force that we failed to at least warn them of - if not destroy.”
“We will not let you down, Star Colonel!”
Up ahead, Aidan saw a dropship taking off, thousands of tons of metal heading for orbit on a fiery torch. “Advise the aerospace trinary that intercepting the retreating forces now fall to them. Focus on defeating the enemy aerospace cover first. This will be a long campaign, we will no doubt face this unit again - if they have no aerospace fighters after this battle then we can take down their dropships in our next battle.”
And hopefully this way none of the pilots throw their lives and fighters away in reckless attempts to break through and strike at the dropships. It had taken a year to bring the trinary up to strength and it might be longer still to replace them if there were further heavy losses.
Or they might never be replaced, a voice like Horse’s seemed to whisper.
Sarna Martial Academy, Sarna
Sarna March, Federated Commonwealth
2 February 3053
Victor Steiner-Davion looked up from the homework he was marking at the sound of knuckles rapping on his door. “Yes?”
The door cracked open and a falsetto voice came through it: “Professor, I’m having trouble with my homework.”
A shudder went through the young duke. Far too many female students thought that they had a shot at marrying the future Archon-Prince if they could just get a private tuition session. He’d thought court picnics on New Avalon were as bad as it got, but he’d been wrong.
At least this didn’t sound like an actual attempt at seduction.
“I have a loaded shotgun in my desk, to defend my life and virtue,” he called back.
“Really?” asked Kai Allard-Liao, pushing the door open.
“Really,” Victor confirmed. “Dammit, Kai. You’re the last person I’d expect to pull that prank.” He pushed his chair back so they could indulge in a manly hug, with some backslapping.
“That’s probably why Galen called in a favor to have me do it,” the taller of the two admitted. “I thought I’d drop by and see how you are in your new native environment.”
“Marking homework,” Victor explained, indicating his desk. “The way the students groan when I give them an essay, you’d think they were getting the worst of the bargain. They don’t have to read every last one of them.”
“To be fair, that never occurred to me when I was at NAIS,” Kai confessed, taking the seat facing the desk.
“Lo, those many moons ago,” observed Victor drily. Neither of them was twenty four yet, although Kai could probably pass for older, and not just because he was taller. “I thought you would still be tied up in the negotiations.”
“They’re recessed for the day, we’re not getting anywhere.”
“That sounds frustrating. Do you want to take a class out and show them what’s what? They’d probably be thrilled to get shot at by a hero of the Capellan civil war or whatever we wind up calling your…” Victor broke off when he saw Kai’s face. “Too soon?”
“Too soon,” he admitted. “I don’t think I’d be much of a teacher, Victor.”
“You didn’t think you’d be much of a mechwarrior, or much of an officer. You’re your own worst critic, Kai. Although that may be why you’re also so embarrassingly competent, so keep it up.”
Kai glanced out the window. “Perhaps another day. One where I might not be taking my own frustrations on the cadets. Or is your cunning ploy to have me take over while you go fight the Jade Falcons?”
“Oh no, you’ve seen through my cunning plan.” Victor pushed the homework aside. He wasn’t all that short of time to deal with it and his friends came first. “No, more seriously it’s the kids I teach that will be going out there sooner rather than later. I’m stuck here for the immediate future.”
Kai glanced over at him. “No luck with appeals to the highest authority.”
“I keep praying but… oh, you mean Dad? No.” He shook his head. “Peter’s with the Third Davion Guards right now so that’s one of us at risk already. And then he dropped the emotional blackmail about how hard it was for Mom when I was fighting, so it would be worse if two of us were on the frontlines.”
“Ouch.” His friend gave him a pained look. “It does make sense though. Losing you and Peter would be pretty bad for the succession. Nothing against Katherine, but…”
Victor nodded. “She’s safe enough. Staff posting on Robinson, and probably hating every minute of it but she was insistent on doing her five years.”
“Good for her. Cassandra was disappointed she didn’t go mechwarrior, so they could posse up.”
“‘Posse’?”
Kai shrugged. “Younger sisters. I nod and pretend to know what she means. Kuan-Yin sometimes slips me translations.”
Victor nodded in sympathy. “I have to ask - negotiations are going poorly?” The fighting had died down with an armistice, but both sides both had their troops in place and Sarna was right on the border with the currently contested worlds. If things got out of hand, it would be far too easy for someone to cross the border and it might even be someone on his side doing the crossing. The AFFC was broadly in favor of anyone kicking the CCAF and the fact Kai was a Liao himself didn’t change that.
His friend slumped. “It feels like if I take my eyes off my mother she’d give the entire Compact back.”
“Seriously?”
“I don’t think she’d actually do that,” Kai qualified, “But that’s how it feels. She seemed to be actually considering Sun-Tzu’s proposal for a white peace.”
Victor winced. “Handing back all the worlds you took?” If nothing else, that included Ares and Necromo which had valuable industry. “But that can only have been a bargaining position.”
Kai grabbed the arms of his chair and then forced himself to relax. “It’s as if she thinks the entire war was about her feud with Romano. There are people on worlds I liberated that we’d be abandoning if I pull out. Do you have any idea what the Maskirova would do to them given the chance?”
“Pretty much the same things they’re trying to do at the moment? Collaborators would vanish, their families…” Victor made a face. Servitor status in the Capellan Confederation wasn’t technically slavery but it would require a really precise legal definition to tell the difference. The practise had been cut back in the St Ives Compact to the point it was effectively stamped out and it wasn’t tolerated at all in the Sarna March.
“Exactly,” his friend agreed. “Gei Fu already got a taste of it. And if we just abandon these people then what does that say about us? But it’s…” He shook his head. “If we hadn’t confirmed repeatedly that she’s my mother I’d be convinced we were dealing with another doppelganger.”
Candace Liao had survived the assassination attempt that killed her husband, but not for want of trying. By the time medical teams managed to get her to a hospital she’d slipped into a coma and the decision to hide her survival had been based on a brief verbal instruction she gave the servant who found her after the attack. Without knowing her intentions and operating entirely on trust, Victor’s father had followed through and reported her as dead, with any messages to the contrary to be delivered by courier not by HPG.
No one had expected that Kai would coincidentally miss meeting every single courier sent after him as he rushed to Outreach and then into the Capellan Confederation with his mercenary army. Nor that Candace wouldn’t emerge from the coma for over six months. Victor knew that she’d died on the operating table twice on the first night, and even after she was revived both times there had been no certainty that Kai’s mother would be mentally competent when she woke.
A case could be made that she might not be as capable as she once had been, although that was an assessment Victor kept to himself. Losing her husband as well as six months of her life… there was a certain lack of flexibility. But that wasn’t the sort of thing one said about a friend’s mother.
“Maybe you need to sit down with her and have your own negotiations,” he suggested. “Figure out what your absolute minimum demands are for a peace deal, and then what she wants. Put those together and then maybe you can convince Sun-Tzu’s team to agree. I think you’d have the Primus’ support just so she can have this over and done with.” The libertine Primus was surprisingly good company, but he was pretty sure she would prefer to be back on Terra rather than operating out of the Sarna HPG station. It was one of the newest such stations, rebuilt after its infamous destruction at the height of the Fourth Succession War, but it was no Hilton Head.
Kai frowned. “Maybe you’re right. It’s… what do I do if I have to choose between my mother and the people of those worlds?”
Victor rested his chin on his hands. “I wish I had an answer for you. I can’t imagine my mom leaving me in that position, so I’d be just as lost.”
“Thanks. I’ll…” Kai grimaced. “Have you got a copy of Hogden’s Primer. If I’m going to draw up a negotiating position, I may as well crack the actual textbook on that open.”
“It should be on the third shelf,” Victor told him, indicating the bookcase that covered one wall of his office. “Would you like me to call the Primus and ask her to extend the recess. We can find an excuse.”
“Thank you.” Kai went to the bookcase and started looking through the shelves for the book in question.
Picking up his comm unit, Victor called the ducal residence. It was almost certainly going to be easier to get a call relayed through there rather than convince the academy switchboard to find the Primus’ local number.
With their usual efficiency, his household staff managed to not only locate the Primus but get a call put through to her groundcar before Kai found the book. Granted, Kai might have won that race if Victor had pointed him at the right shelf.
“How can I be of service?” Wei Rong asked once greetings were exchanged.
“I gather that negotiations are currently in recess due to… disagreements within the St Ives side,” Victor asked.
“Oh, we’re not talking around it delicately?” the busty woman said with an air of surprise. “Yes, that’s entirely correct.”
“And unless I’ve missed something, the armistice is holding?”
“Mysteriously mercenaries don’t seem to mind being paid not to fight, and the CCAF rather needed the recovery time,” she confirmed.
“That being the case, would you mind finding an excuse to put the negotiations on hold for a week or so? I think Kai and I need to talk to his mother so we can hammer out a mutually acceptable position for them to face. It’s not that I mind hosting peace negotiations here,” Victor observed, “But it’s nice to think that matters will be resolved eventually.”
Wei Rong considered that. “I believe I can justify visiting Capella or one of our other Class A stations, putting negotiations on hold until I return. That might take longer than you seem to have in mind though.”
“I really hope it won’t take us two weeks to convince the Duchess that this isn’t working,” Victor told her.
“Hmm. I suppose I can find something to do for a few days. I’ll extend the current recess over the weekend, that would have us reconvene in five days. If that won’t do, I’d almost have to go offworld.”
“Let’s try that, we’re no worse off if it fails,” Victor decided.
“A fair point. Would you mind handing the comm over to the young Duke?” she asked him.
Victor shrugged and looked over at Kai. “The primus wants to talk to you.”
His friend accepted the handset. “Your excellency.”
“I’m going to be a little intrusive,” she told him bluntly. “When I lost my parents, I hadn’t spoken to them in almost a year - ComStar under Myndo Waterly was quite keen on setting aside outside associations that might be used as leverage against the Order’s members. I have more than a few regrets about things I didn’t do or say - and I assume you felt more or less the same way when you were told that your parents died?”
Kai stared at the comm. Victor was doing much the same, he hadn’t expected the Primus to make such an admission. On the other hand, she was a psychologist by training.
“I have had that sort of thought,” Kai admitted after a moment.
Wei’s voice softened. “You lost the chance to have those conversations with your father, your grace. But you’ve gotten a second chance with your mother. Don’t waste it. Let’s get this sorted out so everyone involved can go home.”
-
Yamashiro, New Samarkand
Galedon Military District, Draconis Combine
21 March 3053
The black room beneath the palace went truly back for a moment as the lights were lowered to make the holographic display more visible. Once the display lit up, the faces around the table were lit crimson by the display of the Draconis Combine’s territory.
Minoru Kurita, Coordinator of the Draconis Combine and bearer of many other titles, looked at the map and the markers for DCMS units. The icons of ComGuards deployments and of mercenary units, a trickle of them returning to the Dragon’s cause after a generation where egotism and blame-passing had made House Kurita the enemy of the entire soldier-of-fortune community.
The gold markers of the Armed Forces of the Federated Commonwealth, not a problem today but who could say when it came to tomorrow. Jewel-like markers of Clan units… the new and pressing threat to the wellbeing of the Draconis Combine.
“Boris, please begin.” Minoru chose to use personal names for his warlords, hoping it would convey intimacy, trust… and dominance.
The Warlord of Benjamin Military District bowed his lead. “My lord,” he acknowledged the command. He tapped the control and the leading edge of the Clan’s advance on Terra, stalled for more than a year by the strength of ComStar, glittered. “As discussed three months ago, I have launched raids on Caldrea, Baldur, Tok Do, Peacock, Silkeborg and Ijima.”
After a moment’s pause, Boris Petroff continued. “The raiding force on Caldrea was destroyed by the Smoke Jaguars. Information from the ISF indicates no survivors - there was no intelligence failure, but the Smoke Jaguars responded very aggressively - executing a combat drop directly on our dropships.”
“On Baldur, Clan Ghost Bear provided a more measured response - we were able to disperse supplies to the resistance and collect several members of the prefectoral government. Losses were painful, but the mission was overall successful. I cannot say the same for Tok Do - the fortifications around the incomplete factory there were in a higher state of repair than last reported.”
The factory that had been supposed to replace the lost Panther production had been overrun shortly before Camlann. Fortunately, most of the tooling had been diverted once the risks were known.
Subhash Indrahar’s glasses glittered. “My apologies, Warlord.”
“None is necessary,” the warlord replied evenly, “We were aware the information was not current. We are now confident that the site is being used by the Ghost Bears as a repair facility, which is of some value. Our dropships returned without the raiders. Some of our soldiers may have escaped to join the resistance, data is unclear.”
“Ijima?” asked Li Dok To. That world was a major supply note for the offensive driving towards his own headquarters on Galedon V.
Petroff sighed and shook his head. “The aerospace strength defending it was too high. The mission commander has offered to atone for his decision to abort the attack. I wish to commend him instead.”
“Approved,” Minoru agreed without hesitation.
Michi Noketsuna of Dieron Military District nodded in approval. “We cannot afford to be reckless with the lives of our warriors. He showed moral courage in both the decision and in accepting responsibility.”
Petroff nodded. “The attack on Silkeborg was a success - the Diamond Shark garrison was using older equipment and responded poorly. After inflicting losses and filling their holds with salvage, the raiding party managed to extract. Less fortunately, a response force from Havdhem arrived almost in time to catch them - the Diamond Sharks are employing a strategy of flexible reserves. It was necessary to hot-charge the jumpship to avoid them - the DCA have formally notified me that they do not have the maintenance capacity to sustain that routinely.”
“Better than losing the raiders,” Minoru observed neutrally.
“They acknowledge the decision was correct in this case, my lord.” The warlord frowned. “I do not believe the gains of these operations offset the losses taken. I recommend that future raids should utilize mercenaries by preference.”
“Your younger soldiers must gain experience somehow,” Noketsuna warned.
“I will gladly blood them fighting the Sharks,” Li Dok To offered sharply.
Minoru raised his hands. “Your situation?” he enquired, moving the conversation along.
The Warlord of Galedon exhaled slowly and fiery dots appeared within his area of authority. The Clan Invasion had not struck Galedon District at all… until now. “Isesaki is lost,” he admitted. “We are withdrawing supplies and support personnel in advance of a general withdrawal. With the rimwards half of Oshika prefecture in Diamond Shark hands…”
Minoru closed his eyes for a moment. Khan Barbara Sennet’s Alpha Galaxy wasn’t making the same lightning advances that had befallen Pesht or Luthien… but once they held Isesaki they would have the ideal jump-off point to attack into New Samarkand’s own prefecture and the industrial worlds there. “The Ryuken?”
“I cannot complain of their performance,” Li Dok To answered. “Despite their fractious history with my district’s Regulars, they have done better in holding back the Sharks than anyone so far, it is simply… not enough.”
“I can send one of my own Regular regiments if raids are limited to mercenaries,” Petroff offered generously.
“No.” Minoru shook his head. “You may need it - I will return to the matter of reinforcements, but for now… The prospects?”
“Barring major changes, the Diamond Sharks will be striking at Galedon V by the end of the year. Possibly New Samarkand as well. And a year after that…” the old general shook his head. “If losses continue at this rate there will be nothing between them and the Outworlds Alliance!” Which would cut the Combine in two.
There was a long silence. “I am asking much of you,” Minoru acknowledged. “I am not unaware of the criticisms being directed at you by men who have not faced this burden. This too will be addressed.”
“Thank you, lord.”
Minoru turned to Indrahar. “And the Pesht front?”
Isoroku Kurita, Warlord of what remained of Pesht Military District, was not present. He was Minoru’s uncle - or more precisely, his father’s first cousin.
The Director of the Internal Security Force shook his head sadly. “I regret to report that Ningxia has fallen. The Diamond Sharks’ strategy has been too effective - bypassing several worlds to strike at Warlord Kurita’s command center was not foreseen at all. ComStar has relayed a final message from your uncle. He reported that, being cut off from the dropships carrying his remaining soldiers and their families, he planned to hand his ‘mech to such resistance cells as might be found before returning his honor to your ancestors.”
Minoru felt his lips draw back in a snarl. Unlike the previous offer of seppuku that was rejected, this one he could not argue with. Isoruku Kurita knew too much to be taken alive, and if there was no longer an escape.
“Ningxia is even closer to us here than Isesaki,” warned Li Dok To. “We may face a two-pronged attack on the capital.”
“Possible,” Indrahar admitted. “We believe that the Diamond Sharks will wish to take the time to secure worlds between Pesht and Ningxia, but they need not be drawn from Gamma Galaxy. Their Epsilon Galaxy has not been committed yet beyond the capture of Lonaconing.” A forward command center on the border, corewards of both Pesht and Ningxia. “The most probable choices are that they move rimwards to support Gamma or that they sweep into Qandrahar prefecture.”
“Qandrahar Prefecture is almost cut off,” Noketsuna noted. “It’s not that we couldn’t send them support, but the jumpships needed would be…”
The Coordinator closed his eyes in contemplation. “The worlds lack major industrial and military resources. If they hold out, they can be rewarded but the priority is relocating our critical facilities below the truce line.”
“That functionally assumes that New Samarkand and Galedon V will fall,” the Dieron warlord noted in a neutral tone.
“It is not a risk that can be afforded,” Chandrasekhar Kurita said quietly. The industrial magnate had held his silence until now. “I mean no disrespect to Warlord Li or his brave warriors, but even if they hold the worlds, the factories and their workers could be destroyed. With them we may fail… without them the Combine will…” He paused. “With your permission, lord?”
“Speak.”
“In the hearing of Omi Kurita, an officer on New Avalon was heard to refer to the Combine as the Shark March,” the rotund man advised.
Li Dok To went red. Boris Petroff went white. Subhash Indrahar’s expression was bland… and Michi Noketsuna laughed sharply. “The Fox’s response?”
Chandrasekhar smiled slightly. “Hanse Davion was firm. But nonetheless, the words were said.”
Minoru’s stomach roiled. The Draconis March of the Federated Commonwealth existed to provide a single vast border region with the Draconis Combine. A ‘Shark March’ would do much the same to ward off Clan Diamond Shark from the rest of the Federated Commowealth - but it would do so as part of the Commonwealth, not another state.
If the AFFC sought to annex the Combine, they unquestionably could. In more than seven centuries, the Combine had never been weaker. The only question was, with the Clans facing the Federated Commonwealth hundreds of light years away, whether Hanse Davion and his generals would be willing to pay the price.
Victor Steiner-Davion would probably not, he thought, recalling the young man he had met on Terra. The man who had raided Luthien to recover Minoru’s sister. I must hope his voice commands attention from his father.
“We stand on the knife edge,” he acknowledged. “Everything depends on our ability to balance upon that edge. I confirm that we cannot take the chance of losing the factories and government workers of Galedon V, New Samarkand and the neighboring worlds. A further evacuation is needed and I cannot oversee that and give military direction as well.”
Which would he choose? The decision was obvious.
“Given my relative lack of military experience, I will appoint a Gunji no Kanrei to lead the war effort,” he decided. That would also insulate him from blame for the inevitable defeats that must precede any long term victory.
All three Warlords turned to look at him expectantly. It wasn’t as if anyone outside the three of them could be promoted to that office.
Minoru smiled slightly. “Dok To, you currently command our most vital front, I cannot spare you from it. Particularly since Pesht’s remaining forces will also default to your command. Boris, I need you to hold the heart of the Combine together. Only Dieron District is stable enough to accommodate a new Warlord… Michi, will you accept my trust?”
Noketsuna rose to his feet and bowed. “I serve at your command, Lord Kurita. As warlord, as your deputy, or as the lowest of your servants.” He reached up to his shoulders and removed his rank insignia, leaving them bare.
“I believe Tai-i Daniel Sorenson is deserving of higher rank than he currently holds,” Minoru observed. “I hereby name him your successor of Dieron.”
“...a Tai-i?” Li Dok To exclaimed.
Petroff frowned. “Sorenson… were he and his company not dismissed from the Fifth Sword of Light twenty years ago.”
Minor nodded. “What incurred disfavor from my grandfather drew admiration from my father. Sorenson and his company have served in many roles that exceed their official rank. Had we the time and resources to form a new Sword of Light regiment, I had intended to use them as the core… well, perhaps that can be done in the future. Most importantly, he is resourceful, loyal and honorable. We will need such men.”
The new Gunji-no-Kanrei shook his head. “From command of twelve ‘mechs to a military district. I beg one favor, lord Kurita. Let me be the one to break the news to him.”
Minoru smiled thinly. “Granted. He may take his company with him - no doubt he will need the support.”
Noketsuna seated himself again. “Before discussing our strategy further, I must inquire as to our situation in producing advanced battlemechs to face the Clans. I have heard… disquieting reports of the upgraded Panthers.”
Chandrasekhar visibly winced. “If those reports are that the cooling systems border on the inadequate for the newer PPCs being fitted as upgrades, then I can confirm them.”
“I have doubts as to which side of the border the upgrade kits leave the Panthers,” grumbled Li Dok To. “Some of my officers are refusing to fit the PPCs at all.”
“Very well,” Minoru told him. “We have a problem. What solution is presented?”
“At the moment, we are diverting improved heatsinks from the Victory Industries factory on Marduk. Upgrade packages will be shipped in future with enough to rebuild the Panther’s cooling system. This will push production of the Hippogriff further back, but until the electronics problem there is solved, that doesn’t cost us anything right now.” Chandrasekhar didn’t need to consult any notes.
“I concur,” Noketsuna agreed. “Will this apply to new Panther production as well?”
“Yes, although we may need to import some of the heatsink materials once the An Ting factory is fully online. I am working on potential sources - the Taurians seem willing to provide but Chancellor Liao’s production is considerably closer if he is willing.”
Minoru nodded. “And the newer designs? I am aware that the use of a design originating from ComStar is less than popular.” He didn’t personally care as long as the ‘mechs functioned, but there had been whispering about ‘dependence’ from the more conservative members of the court and he could not ignore all of them.
“The most promising designs are being prototyped on Hachiman as we speak,” his distant cousin informed them. “Actual production of those selected will be on Irurzun, work has begun on constructing the factories already. I hope to be able to order the tooling for them before the end of the year with eighteen to twenty-four months before initial production. In the meantime, the Tora’s first production run has begun and completed machines will be available for deployment in the next eight weeks.”
“Good news at last.” Petroff noted. “Priority to you, Dok To?”
“We need every machine we can obtain,” the Warlord of Galedon agreed. “But if the factory is to be evacuated…”
“That will need to be considered to minimize the impact on output,” Minoru agreed. “A decision to be made later. For now, all production will be sent directly to your regiments.”
“Thank you, lord.”
Noketsuna nodded. “I believe since the defense of Galedon and New Samarkand has the highest priority, we should now discuss reinforcements for this front.”
Minoru glanced over at Indrahar. “Be so good as to brief the warlords on Operation Dragonsteeth, Subhash.”
“Of course, lord.” The old man switched the display to a table of unit organization. “At the current time, detachments from the Alshain Avengers and Pesht Regulars not currently fit for frontline service are en route to certain nobles to accept their brave decision to volunteer themselves and their personal guards for service against the Clans.”
There were questioning looks at that.
“The nobles in question have been vocal, if in what they may have believed were discreet circles, that our current cooperation with ComStar and the Federated Commonwealth is unbefitting the honor of the Dragon, and that the DCMS is not currently fighting hard enough,” Indrahar continued, at which point Li Dok To and Noketsuna both smiled the smiles of men about to take a merry revenge. “Including the necessary cadres to give them direction, we expect to be able to field four regiments of mechwarriors under this designation.”
“I imagine that such brave mechwarriors will take heavy losses proving their commitment to the Dragon,” Li Dok To observed, apparently already considering where such regiments could be best employed. Minoru doubted that they would be very effective in and of themselves, but they would be loud and obvious targets for the Diamond Sharks, which could allow more disciplined regiments to have a greater effect.
And it wasn’t as if he’d weep for any casualties suffered by the Dragonsteeth. Every one of them that died would leave the Black Dragon Society that Indrahar had reported weaker either in membership or potential recruits.
“In addition, Chancellor Liao has contacted me with regard to the Shin Legion,” Minoru informed them.
“He’s letting them go home?” asked Petroff in concern. The regiment, all that was left of an entire brigade that had deserted Romano Liao after the Fourth Succession War, was operating in Benjamin District at the moment.
“Eventually, I am sure that he will. For now, Sun-Tzu wishes to designate them as his contribution to the Combine’s defense against the Clans. The legion is to be reinstated on the CCAF rolls, if seconded to the DCMS. Shipments of supplies, personnel and new battlemechs are allegedly in the way with the intention of bringing them back up to their original strength of three regiments.”
Noketsuna laughed. “Is this the Kapteyn Pact finally proving useful?”
It’s the Chancellor sending us soldiers he wants away from the Confederation while he consolidates his position, and prototypes he wants to test in action, Minoru thought. But I’m in no position to complain. “I will leave the deployment of the expanded Shin Legion to the Gunji no Kanrei,” he acknowledged and sat back to watch the professional soldiers discuss how to best bolster the defense of House Kurita’s ancient capital.
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Another pair of excellent updates! :)
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Ace and Wei continue to not disappoint (and can I just take this opportunity to say again how much I'm enjoying Wei's actions as Primus?), but I also want to take the opportunity to say how much I'm enjoying this take on Minoru, too.
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Drakensis does ALL of his characters well! :)
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That he does indeed. :thumbsup:
Here's hoping he's not losing the overview of the currently running plotlines. :)
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You’re your own worst critic, Kai. Although that may be why you’re also so embarrassingly competent, so keep it up.”
He might be right on this one, Kai's self-criticism is driving him to continuously improve himself, but on the other hand it prevents him to fully utilise these improved skills.
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Opalescent Reflections
Stacking the Deck
Chapter 3
Hilton Head, North America
Terra, Sol System
9 April 3053
After not far short of two months wrangling three Liaos into something resembling agreement, Wei Rong had hoped that her return to Terra would allow her some peace and quiet.
Sun-Tzu Liao wasn’t incredibly happy about losing eleven Capellan worlds, even if he could blame most of it on his mother. Candace Liao wasn’t happy either, as she’d apparently been hoping to cede back enough military production that her birth nation wouldn’t look so incapable that it might collapse if the Duchy of Oriente invaded. (To be fair, that province of the Free Worlds League had an army that rivaled some major periphery states). And while Wei wasn’t privy to Kai Allard-Liao’s discussions with his mother, he didn’t seem very happy about the outcome and would be serving as St Ives’ ambassador to the Federated Commonwealth for the foreseeable future.
For her part, Wei came back to more meetings. She couldn’t even bring herself to tease her secretary, as Tanya Serebryakov had a boyfriend now and they were rather sweet. Even if they seemed to be stalling at the holding hands stage of the relationship right now.
So instead of visiting, for example, one of the Caribbean resorts and admiring the view of young men and women in skimpy swimwear on the beaches, she was in a conference room two levels below the surface of Hilton Head island. The Liaos had clearly got the better of the peace deal, in her opinion.
Sitting across from her at the table, Andrew Norris looked tired. “I doubt there’s much that I can add to the reports sent already,” he told them. “The Diamond Sharks are rebuilding the factories demolished on Luthien and it’s going at least as quickly as the updating of factories to build Hippogriffs for the ComGuards.”
“You saw this yourself?” Wei asked him.
Precentor Luthien shrugged. “The Luthien Armor Works arcology really isn’t that far from the Imperial City. I didn’t see what they’re doing inside it, but the structural work is hard to hide.”
“It’s consistent,” Elswick Cameron agreed. There was no single leader of ComStar’s intelligence services, but of the four departments that divided up the duties, the head of Mu was first among equals. “Sharon, your intercepts said tooling is being shipped in from the Clan’s homeworlds?”
Sharon Fore-Acre was already bringing up data. “There are three factory complexes - two on Luthien and one on Irece - being rebuilt by the Diamond Sharks. We have a list of seven designs to be built in them - two at the Luthien Armor Works arcology, two at the Wells Technology factory and three on Irece at Lexatech’s Land-Air Mech factory.”
“Seven is a lot of designs. I’m not sure the Federated Commonwealth is adding that much production at the moment,” Norris noted. “It’s certainly more ambitious than the Combine is.”
Cameron steepled his fingers. “We know that some of them are upgrades of designs used by the SLDF and House Lords - the Griffin, the Shadow Hawk and Phoenix Hawk, for example. What we’re not seeing is their most advanced omnimechs. It seems probable that either they want to avoid any risk of raids acquiring their best technology by keeping the production outside the Inner Sphere, or the technical demands are such that they aren’t able to readily transfer it to sites that will need to depend on local workers.”
“Even without Omnimechs, it’s a formidable range of capabilities.” Precentor Martial Focht leant forwards, glaring towards Cameron. “Once those factories are operational the Diamond Sharks will be able to replace their losses far more easily than they could during the initial invasion. We can also assume that they’ll be providing spare parts and munitions the same way. This significantly changes the logistical situation. Are any of the other Clans doing the same?”
The analyst shook his head. “There are repair facilities, using existing factories - Twycross, Alshain, Tok Do, New Oslo and Rasalhague . But those are on the level of what the Sharks are doing with repurposed civilian factories on Pesht: rebuilding salvaged hardware to equip garrison units. Actual construction of the Clan’s own hardware hasn’t been brought to the Inner Sphere by any of the other Clans that we’re aware of.”
“They’re here to stay.” It took everyone looking at her for Wei to realize that she’d said that out loud.
“Primus?” asked Four-Acre.
“There was a report on the Diamond Sharks building medical colleges,” she said out loud. “They’re investing in their conquests, trying to uplift them.”
“I’m not sure I see the connection,” admitted Focht slowly. “But I spent far more time with Clan Wolf than with the other Clans.”
“I thought it was a hearts and minds endeavor,” Norris said thoughtfully, eyes distant. “The Combine’s civilian medical sector is a shambles - our hospices have been propping it up since Takashi Kurita’s father slashed the funding for medical care in favor of the military.”
Wei nodded. “My understanding is that their Physicians of the Dragon are just as competent as any other state’s, well - excluding the Canopians.” As Primus of ComStar she was in no position to throw stones at the order for cloaking their profession in mysticism. “But talent follows money, so most of them are working for the DCMS or in private practises that treat those who can afford them. At a local level, most of the population are served by doctors who operate at cost and with very limited access to the tools and medicines we take for granted here on Terra.”
“It’s a cultural matter,” murmured Dahlia Erin. The head of Rho had operated undercover in the Draconis Combine. “Medicine is seen as a ‘weak’ profession, less prestigious than other careers.”
“I see.” Focht drummed his fingers on the table. “Then the Sharks planning to train additional doctors…”
“They are advertising a million additional doctors within ten years, which may not seem like much spread across scores of worlds but some of those worlds are fairly sparsely populated,” Norris told him. “New hospitals and medical centers are being built, and they’ve ordered expansion of medical production as well.”
“I would have thought that they would prefer to cater to their warriors first and foremost,” Four-Acre said with a frown. She was not fond of military chauvinism in general.
“Probably,” Wei admitted. “Don’t take this as apologism, I am sure that it is a calculated strategy to win people over. But bringing their own production here, and training doctors, that also signals that they are not just here to conquer the Combine’s worlds. They’re planning to govern them and to build prosperity.”
“And those doctors would fall under the Scientist caste,” Focht added. “That’s arguably the second highest status caste among the Clans. It’s an opportunity for the best and brightest young people on those worlds.”
Wei nodded. “It probably wouldn’t work in the worlds taken from the Lyrans or Rasalhague, they have higher expectations. But on Combine worlds, this might even seem comparatively liberal.”
“Moving back to the factories,” the Precentor Martial observed as the precentors sat back and considered the idea, “They are also targets. Tooling to construct clan weapons would be of incalculable value, once it arrives.”
She frowned at the idea of breaking ComStar neutrality. “Not valuable enough for us to attack them, but I assume you mean the DCMS?”
“Given the distances from the frontlines, it would be difficult,” Focht admitted, “But we’ve already seen one raid on Luthien. Another isn’t unthinkable, and for such a prize even one of the other Successor States might be willing to commit to such an operation. The prize of battletechnology led to some very daring attempts to secure the technology back during the Age of War. Reverse engineering from salvage is challenging, you know how little progress we’ve made with material from Camlann. But with access to Clan databases, trained workers - much less tooling already designed to create those materials and components? That would be a game-changer.”
Wei looked over at Dahlia. “I have no intention of trying to secure those things by force. But at the same time, if information can be gathered covertly…”
The head of Rho nodded. “If the Diamond Sharks intend to recruit workers locally then it may be possible. It will be a long term operation, without quick results.”
“That’s acceptable.” Wei hoped she would never have to send the ComGuards against the Clans again. Camlann had been bad enough, and what had it won them? A fifteen year demarcation that had shifted the direction of the fighting but it had done nothing to stop the invasion.
Even if the truce holds, she thought, by 3066 it’s possible the Clans will hold everything corewards of Camlann. Driving them back would require war on a scale larger than the Amaris Civil War. Only the First and Second Succession Wars would compare… and they were a nightmare we are still recovering from.
“Thank you for the report on Luthien,” she thanked Norris. “What is next on the agenda?”
The agenda was consulted and Cameron nodded. “The Odessa situation appears promising. Clan Jade Falcon took Odessa III easily but data from Rho and Delta strongly suggests that they remain unaware of the shipyard at Odessa IV.”
“We can’t expect that to last forever,” Focht warned, steepling his hands. “I am informed that it was a constant effort to hide the warships there from Odessa’s orbital traffic, and the Jade Falcons are likely to impose their own control over that.”
Cameron shrugged. “I do not disagree. There is a reason that the ComGuards fleet relocated from the region after Camlann. There was too much chance of one side or the other noticing them. The yards themselves are less obvious than moving vessels.”
“Even the shipyards may come to light. I understand that the planetary system is marked as a hazard, but if the AFFC are launching a raid that may make the pirate points near Odessa IV attractive as a way of inserting forces stealthily,” the Precentor-Martial told them. “The risk would be acceptable to them, and the Odessa system is close to the truceline.”
“And if the shipyard is used then there’s too much risk of someone noticing ships in transit.” Wei frowned. “Can we risk evacuation vessels?”
They all looked at Focht who rubbed his chin as he thought. “Sending a jumpship to Odessa’s system shouldn’t be a problem, but we might need any dropships to make slow ballistic flights to the shipyards.”
“Pull everyone out then,” Wei ordered. “They’re to clear out all computers and launch any waste that’ll show that the yards have been in use since the days of Kerensky’s exodus on a trajectory into the star. If no one finds the yards, then we can reoccupy them later. If they are found, hopefully we can deny all knowledge. We do not need another diplomatic rupture with the Federated Commonwealth.”
“I’m sure we can do that,” Focht agreed. “There are plenty of posts at Titan where the workers can be employed.”
Wei nodded. Most of them wouldn’t know exactly where they had been working anyway, she wasn’t going to try to purge them like some ancient king burying the secrets of his tomb.
I started my reign digging up secrets lost by the Order, she mused. Now I’m trying to bury them again…
Zenith Jump Point, Melissia
Periphery March, Federated Commonwealth
18 May 3053
The shuttle carrying Aidan Pryde over to meet with his adversary was directed in a long, sweeping docking maneuver that gave him plenty of time to appreciate the cruiser transporting the Forty-Fourth Nova Cat Cavaliers.
“Showing off,” he said dismissively to his aide as Mechwarrior Diana stared at the warship through the dropship port.
“It remains impressive,” she pointed out. “A legacy of the Star League.”
Aidan shrugged and straightened his uniform. “Clan Jade Falcon has many cruisers of this class. But unless the Cats plan to employ bombardment, it will make no difference to the bidding.” He decided not to bother the young woman with the fact that the Aegis-class was one of the oldest warship classes still in service - each hull was so old that they pre-dated the Star League itself.
If we lose our warships, we have little ability to replace them, he thought. Our mission is not just to bring civilization to the Successor States, we need these worlds as much as they need the Way of the Clans.
Normally he would have brought Horse with him for this, but his oldest and closest friend would be in the care of the scientists for months. There had been talk that his injuries would be career ending, in fact, and that the medical care to rebuild his spine would be wasted on a freeborn warrior.
Aidan’s face darkened at the memory. If Vandervahn Chistu had not sided with him, citing that experienced warriors were difficult to replace and that it would take almost as long for someone to travel from the homeworlds, he might have had to fight for Horse’s treatment.
If something like that happened to Diana, she would not have a codex listing accomplishments to show her worth. How many promising warriors had been wasted by the prejudice against the freeborn? A warrior should be judged first by their actual ability, not the theoretical superiority of their bloodline. Most of his own sibko had washed out, surely that made them less worthy than Diana or Horse, who had proven out.
Then again, he had also washed out and only gained warrior status through an illegal second chance. Perhaps he was less than the two of them, even if he held a higher rank?
The shuttle docked against the Nova Cat warship with a thump and knocked the thought out of Aidan’s head. “You are ready, quiaff?”
“Aff!” Diana unbuckled herself and climbed out of her seat, joining him in the aisle where the two Jade Falcons straightened the jade-green cloaks of their dress uniforms and donned the ceremonial helmets.
Aidan felt a chill as he saw Diana standing there in uniform. With only her face visible, she looked much like a younger version of his sibkin Marthe - as she had been when he challenged for a bloodname, perhaps. There had to be a connection, although he knew Marthe couldn’t have a freeborn child. Her career would never have permitted it.
Through the airlock, they were greeted by two Nova Cat warriors - elementals who towered above both Falcons in another unsubtle show of power.
“Star Colonel Devalis awaits your bid,” the senior of the pair informed Aidan after they exchanged salutes.
“Then we shall not make her wait, quineg?” he asked. No offers of refreshments or other hospitality? Most Clans would engage in at least some social pleasantries before bidding, if only to feel out their adversaries. But apparently the Nova Cats felt no need.
The passageways of the Blood Oath felt much like those of other ships like it. The Nova Cat iconography was the only thing that differed from Jade Falcon vessels that Aidan had visited over the years so it was no surprise when they entered the cruiser’s bridge. He pushed off from the door and caught the rail that circled the central holotank, facing a warrior wearing only black leather shorts and vest, a pouch hung from the belt of the shorts.
Diana’s breath hissed out but Aidan nudged her to take her place at his side. “Star Colonel Devalis,” he greeted the Nova Cat. “I see that you are in full finery today.”
“I am aware of how much Clan Jade Falcon appreciate one’s plumage,” Istal Devalis replied, an edge of disappointment at his lack of reaction.
Aidan smiled politely. “I think it is my aide’s first chance to see Clan Nova Cat’s dress uniform. I admire the minimalist charm, personally. These capes look dashing but they are terribly cumbersome.”
Devalis snorted. “We are not here to compare uniforms, Pryde. We are here to bid for the fate of Melissia. You stand ready, quiaff?”
“Aff. Let us determine if it is your claws or my talons which wrest this world from the grip of House Steiner.”
A younger Nova Cat joined Devalis and indicated where Diana could upload the data on the Gyrfalcon Guards’ strength.
“As the host, I cede the first bid to you,” offered Devalis dismissively.
Aidan nodded agreeably and tapped the controls to bring up his first bid. Melissia was of some significance - the Watch reported that it was home to a regional headquarters and likely defended by one of the AFFC’s regimental combat teams - more than a hundred battlemechs, three times that in combat vehicles and a large infantry complement.
Opening with all five trinaries of the Gyrfalcon Guards, Aidan reflected that he would have been confident that would be enough during the earlier stages of the invasion. But if the forces here had been improved as much as the unit he’d fought on Morges… well, there was a reason the Gyrfalcon Guards had been sent out to bid for the right to the world, rather than less capable Clusters operating along the edges of the Inner Sphere.
In response, Devalis wordlessly brought up a similar force - three trinaries of battlemechs, supported by aerospace fighters and elementals. However, the latter units were binaries compared to the trinaries that Aidan was bringing to the table. Unsurprisingly, there was no sign of the Blood Oath in the Nova Cat’s bid.
“She is hardly cutting anything from your bid,” Diana observed quietly.
“I think this is the full strength of the Forty-Fourth Cavaliers,” Aidan told her. He didn’t think it was wise - Clan aerospace fighters had less of an edge over their counterparts than ground forces. A full strength RCT would have forty fighters compared to his own thirty or the twenty that Devalis was bringing.
Reaching forwards, he updated his bid, to drop a single ‘mech from each of the nine stars that he’d bid. Thirty-six mechs would mean parity with a battalion of AFFC mechs, allowing him to engage without being seriously outnumbered as long as the Guards defeated each battalion in turn.
“Conservative as ever,” Devalis said provocatively. “I had understood you to be among the more daring of the Jade Falcon’s officers.”
Aidan gave her a warning look. “Perhaps you would like to show me how you think this should be bid, quiaff?”
The Nova Cat side of the display flickered as points vanished - an entire star of aerospace and the same of elementals. Finally, one of the ‘mech trinaries lost a star. It brought them below Aidan’s bid, but he wasn’t sure about the merit of where those cuts had been made. Did Devalis know something he did not?
If Melissa’s garrison was less than reported, then it might be ample, but if there was a strong aerospace force on the world then only ten fighters was a risk.
“If that is the extent of your confidence,” Aidan observed and struck away one of his own Elemental stars, followed by an entire trinary of ‘mechs. Twenty-four battlemechs, fifty elementals and thirty aerospace fighters would require creative tactics to defeat a regimental combat team - it was below what was recommended by the Watch, but only barely. “Then I believe Melissa will belong to Clan Jade Falcon.”
Devalis looked at him tightly. “I think not. My visions show that a bird will have its wings burned here.”
She adjusted the display and swept away an entire trinary of battlemechs. “This is the force that will take Melissa for Clan Nova Cat.”
Twenty-five battlemechs, as many elementals and just ten fighters… Aidan was not prepared to say that she was wrong, but he would not stake a glass of beer on the prospect. Much less the warriors of his Cluster. “I admire your daring and I cede you the chance to try.”
Istal Devalis smiled smugly, but Aidan noted that not all of her officers seemed to be so confident. “Cavaliers!” the woman shouted. “Melissia is ours. We will show the lessons we have learned on Camlann!”
Diana opened her mouth to speak but Aidan kicked her lightly in the ankle. “I shall be watching with interest, Star Colonel.” If she found herself in need of more forces she would need to offer concessions to Aidan, and by extension, Clan Jade Falcon in exchange for permission to deploy more than this minimal attack force. Or if the AFFC forces were less than reported, it might be a lesson for the Jade Falcon Watch in information gathering.
The two Jade Falcons retreated to their shuttle as Devalis continued to fire up her warriors.
“Star Colonel, I do not see how Devalis expects to defeat the reported garrison with that bid,” Diana admitted once they had closed the shuttle hatch.
Aidan pulled off his helmet. “Perhaps she knows something that we do not. If not, then the Nova Cats will pay the price. There are few things more valuable in war than knowledge of one’s enemy. While taking Melissia would be prestigious, if they fail then it will allow us to advance on Inarcs and take the factories there before the Nova Cats can catch up.”
Opening the storage cabinet, Diana reached out and took Aidan’s helmet to store it before removing her own. “Sir, I have a petition to make.”
“A… petition?” he paused in unclasping his cape and then finished removing it. That was unusually formal for the young mechwarrior. “Since I do not have to finalize plans to invade Melissa, my schedule is clear, Mechwarrior.” Aidan sank into his seat and gestured for Diana to speak.
The other Jade Falcon took her own seat but half-turned. “I request nomination to participate in the Trial of Bloodright for David Pryde’s bloodright.”
Aidan frowned at her, mind racing. She was freeborn, wasn’t she? How could she claim a bloodname of… “I have not made any nomination so far,” he conceded. He’d barely known David Pryde - younger warrior had been taken as isorla by Clan Smoke Jaguar only a few weeks after winning his Bloodname. Other than gatherings of the Pryde Bloodhouse they’d never met and from his recollections, the man almost never spoke at them.
Given that his death had taken place while commanding an artillery star in the Fourth Jaguar Dragoons, Aidan doubted that the Star Commander’s career had prospered and his bloodright might not be as strongly contested as others. Much as Aidan’s own would likely not be prized. He occasionally worried that his notoriety might lead to the bloodright being retired. Still, the currently open bloodright would have contenders. It was likely someone would ask him rather than go through the Grand Melee. Such requests were among the few perks he enjoyed of those that usually went to the bloodnamed.
He remembered thinking that winning his bloodname would earn him respect from the rest of the Clan. He’d been so young.
“What bloodclaim do you have on Bloodhouse Pryde?” he asked her.
“My mother was a member of a Mattlov-Pryde trueborn sibko,” Diana said proudly. “I have the required matrilineal tie.”
He considered beating around the bush and could almost hear Horse chiding him for cowardice. “I believe the last such sibko was my own, so I would know your mother.”
Diana paused and in that moment the pilot signaled that they should strap in for departure. The conversation stuttered to a halt as the pair obeyed.
“Her name was Peri,” Diana said softly, keeping her eyes fixed on her hands as they checked the straps holding her down.
Aidan was lucky that he was so familiar with shuttle seats that he could finish securing himself without conscious thought. Peri.
His mind went back to the dark days after his failed Trial of Position. The period when he’d fled from his technician assignment and hidden out at the scientific station where Peri, always more academically inclined than most of their sibko, had been sent after her own failure just before.
It was half his lifetime ago. Just barely long enough ago for a child to have been conceived, born and grow to be a mechwarrior of Clan Jade Falcon during the invasion, two years ago.
Perhaps mistaking his silence for disapproval, Diana continued: “There is precedent for a freeborn meeting the basic requirements to compete for a bloodname. A Diamond Shark won the Enders bloodname prior to the invasion.”
“Ace Enders.” Aidan remembered Joanna telling him of the idiosyncratic origins of the Diamond Shark serving in the final round of the trials to participate in Operation Revival. “I have heard the story but I would need to verify the facts.”
“Will you…”
“I will consider it,” he told her.
The two sat in silence for the rest of the ride back to their jumpship. Perhaps Diana was wondering if he would agree to her petition. Or perhaps she understood him well enough to know that he was looking for the courage to ask her if Peri had found someone else or if he…
Part of the Jade Falcon preparation for one’s first Trial of Position was to throw yourself at a sword in a show of resolve. That had frightened Aidan Pryde less than the idea of fatherhood.
He was perversely angry at Horse for not being there to advise him - the freeborn at least had a father of his own!
-
Silverdale, Alshain
Clan Smoke Jaguar Occupation Zone
27 June 3053
Clan Smoke Jaguar’s new lair had yet to be completed, but the mountain fortress was at least operational enough to house the Clan Council, letting them move out of the commandeered facilities in the city.
Located inside what had already been roughly carved into the shape of a Jaguar’s head, looking out across Alshain, the circular council chamber had seats for a thousand warriors on the curved stone benches, a number that exceeded the current number of bloodnamed warriors in Clan Smoke Jaguar by more than two hundred.
As saKhan, Sarah Weaver had a throne-like chair on the quarter of the circle that was not occupied by benches, though her place and that of the loremaster were distinctly smaller than that currently graced by the buttocks of Khan Leo Showers.
For all her growing hatred for the machinations of the charismatic Khan, at the moment Sarah was fairly sure that they were of one mind: a desire to throttle the current speaker.
“I do not call for the replacement of our Khans,” Paul Moon declared with the confidence of someone large enough that he probably wasn’t going to be killed on the Council floor by anyone on the dais since he was at least forty centimeters taller and a hundred pounds heavier than any of them. “But the current situation is unacceptable and I would hear from them their plans to correct that.”
The elemental turned slightly to address another quarter of the council. “Three years ago we were the spearhead of the Clans: returning in glory to restore the Star League and destroy the Scavenger Lords to profane these worlds. And then, through the ingratitude of those we are here to liberate, through the scheming of those who claim to be the custodians of Terra and through the ineptitude of two Khans who are no longer with us, we are bound to inaction!”
Moon flung out one arm to its full extent. “There,” he boomed, “The Jade Falcons and the Nova Cats claw at the Federated Commonwealth! And there,” his other arm indicated the opposite direction. “The Diamond Sharks are carving out their own empire from the bones of the Draconis Combine. And what is Clan Smoke Jaguar doing?”
“Nothing!” the man roared, turning towards the Khans’ dais. “Nothing but snarling ineffectually, leashed by a corrupt bargain with the simpering Primus of ComStar. I ask of you, what will you do to end this?!”
Say what you would about Leo Showers, he wasn’t one to shrink from a challenge. He rose to his feet and stared down at Paul Moon, taking advantage of his elevated position to offset the other warrior’s height.
“We have grown weak!” the Khan declared, throwing a challenge out at the Council.
There was a hiss of disbelief from the Council - those were strong words.
“You reference failures, Paul Moon and you are not wrong. Let me add to that: we fought the Wolves for the right to cross their occupied worlds and storm the Federated Commonwealth… and we lost. We have probed the Sharks for the chance to strike further against the Draconis Combine and they did not even fight us, leaving that to the Ghost Bears - who seem entirely willing to be their lapdogs.” Showers took one step forwards. “The other Clans forget their fear of our jaws and our claws. The Inner Sphere thinks us muzzled and ineffectual.”
Then he folded his arms contemptuously. “Let them think that. Let them laugh and mock. Let them forget that we are stalking them now. The Smoke Jaguar does not strike when they please, we strike when we have gathered our might and that is where our weakness lies. I swear, that this weakness will be purged and we will strike down those who mistake unreadiness for unwillingness to wage war!”
The faces of many in the Clan Council went from anger at the opening to interest.
Paul Moon nodded his head. “Those are strong words, my Khan. Fighting words. I like them well, and I think I am not alone in that. But they are words, not actions and it is actions that count.”
“Our losses over the past years have not been made good yet,” Sarah said, not bothering to stand. Her words drew attention to her and away from the two men. “We are stronger than we were, but it is not yet enough to break free of our shackles.”
“That is a harsh truth,” Showers agreed. “The irony is that we are strong enough to pose a potential threat to the Combine, pinning down forces that they could use against the Diamond Sharks, but not strong enough to strike down any of our foes. But I have planned for this and our might will surge beyond their expectations. We have seized several sibkos from other Clans, young warriors - trueborn and eager to fight. Assignments are being drawn up now for officers to force this new generation - isorla and Jaguar born alike - into a powerful force. When Tau Galaxy is joined to the replenished Galaxies already in the Inner Sphere, we will be ready to strike decisively.”
“And who will we strike at?” came a voice from the benches. “The Wolves? The Sharks? The Combine?”
The Khan shook his head. “We have one enemy above all others. One who stands between our Clan and our destiny to become the ilClan. But this must not be spoken of until the time is right. Surprise is also our weapon.”
Anyone who could both think and breath knew he meant ComStar and Sarah frowned. But she said nothing. HPG components were another thing that was being acquired. They would be depending on smaller and less capable transmitters only suitable for military purposes, but that would be enough to remove the need for ComStar.
“If we break the truce, the other Clans may turn on us,” a woman pointed out. “I do not doubt our fortitude but we cannot fight all of the Clans and ComStar and the Successor States all at once.”
“That,” Showers admitted, “is a good point. However, we are not the only Clan frustrated by being kept from joining the current battles. Both Clan Wolf and Clan Ghost Bear have a new generation of warriors rising up, eager for victories such as those won over the last few years but frustrated by their Clan’s strategic positions. As ilKhan I came to know right-thinking officers in all of the Clans and I have not lost those contacts. Under my counsel, these officers are gathering warriors to them and speaking out against the leaders who tolerate it.” He paused and looked at Paul Moon. “Your words earlier will be shared with them, Star Colonel. Your anger will speak to them, and inspire them. And when the warriors of all three Clans speak in favor of ending the truce… there will be sufficient support.”
Moon knew that the recognition he was being offered was as much a trap as a reward, but he could hardly back down from his earlier words. Meddling in other Clans’ affairs was frowned upon and now he would be open to criticism if this diplomacy backfired.
“I have said before, one additional Galaxy will not be enough,” Sarah warned Showers as he returned to his seat.
“They will not just be any Galaxy,” the khan told her. “They will be warriors in the image of our greatest battlefield commander, and led by her.”
She frowned. “Who do you speak of?”
“You,” Showers replied simply. “I always knew you had the heart of a Smoke Jaguar but on Camlann you showed you also had the cunning. I want you to take personal command of Tau Galaxy, blood them against our enemies in the homeworlds and then bring them here to lead our advance.”
Despite herself, Sarah warmed at the compliment. “You want me to go back to the Homeworlds,” she snapped, but her tone was less fierce than she had intended.
“One of us must.” The Khan stretched slightly, looking around the council chamber as the bloodnamed warriors talked amongst themselves. “We have been away too long - it is not just the Khans of the other eleven Clans who have returned to the homeworlds, the Diamond Shark saKhan went back to Strana Mechty as well. Victory on Terra will be decided as much in the preparations made there as they are on the battlefields. And let’s face it: you’re bored.”
“Bored?” Sarah exclaimed.
The former ilKhan nodded. “You’re better at hiding it than most of us, but you want battle and there is none here. In the homeworlds, you can remind the other Clans of our might and whet your appetite for war while you prepare Tau.”
The junior khan was about to dispute his words but the mention of other Clans sparked a thought. She sat back in her own throne and turned it over in her head.
One further galaxy was not going to be enough, whatever flattery Showers heaped on her. But there wer also limits - hard and fast limits - to what the Jaguars’ factories could build and to the number of trueborn warriors that could be added to the touman. Raiding other Clans for their sibkos wasn’t something that could be pushed too far, both because it made enemies and because those warriors hadn’t been raised as Jaguars, leading to frictions.
However, Operation Revival was over. If the invasion resumed there was no longer any commitment to the previous corridors or to the previous limited number of Clans participating.
“I do not think anyone else is likely to do a better job of forming Tau Galaxy,” she told him grudgingly. “I will accept this mission, but I expect a free hand to do what needs to be done.”
“I cannot micromanage you from a thousand light years away, Sarah,” Showers pointed out placatingly. “If I could then we wouldn’t need a khan to return to Huntress in the first place.”
No doubt his creatures will be watching me, Sarah thought to herself. Showers had led the Smoke Jaguars long enough to have officers loyal to him in all the key locations, even if they did not always play a commanding role. But so long as I am there and Khan, they cannot directly obstruct me. “We will both need to work on convincing the rest of the Grand Council to reject the truce. That means no bargains struck without my assent.”
“Bargained well and done.” He nodded a little smugly and looked back to the council where the next speaker had been selected and was stepping out into the middle of the room.
Sarah barely paid any attention to the discussion - complaints about the shortage of machine gun calibre ammunition, in light of the frequent riots. It was as if some of her peers didn’t know that flamers and small pulse lasers were practically as good, and in some ways more effective. Her mind was much further away, considering which Khans might be approachable on the topic of entering the Inner Sphere… and what she might be able to offer them.
-
Smoke Jaguars - when Kuritans think you are overdoing the whole crowd control.
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About the ONLY time Kuritans would think you're overdoing anything... ;D
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About the ONLY time Kuritans would think you're overdoing anything... ;D
Any doing is overdoing, if you´re doing it to House Kurita´s property without their permission.
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Smoke Jaguars - when Kuritans think you are overdoing the whole crowd control.
Of course the Kuritans think using up machine gun ammo on crowd control is overdoing it. They'd rather save the ammunition and use swords instead.
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Opalescent Reflections
Stacking the Deck
Chapter 4
Fair Weather, Qandahar
Pesht Military District, Draconis Combine
3 July 3053
Qandahar was a disaster of a world. The infantry fighting from foxholes outside the ironically named city of Fair Weather had to wear breath masks and the city had been covered in a dome.
Ace Enders was glad of the atmospheric seals on his Huntsman as he raked one of those fox-holes with the small pulse laser mounted low above the ‘mech’s left hip. His neurohelmet would serve as a breathing mask if necessary, but any breach would require vigorous scrubbing of the narrow cockpit to remove the toxins carried by the polluted atmosphere.
“We have cleared the tanks on the western flank,” Julian reported. “There is no sign of enemy battlemechs.”
“Good work, Star Captain.” Ace’s anti-missile system kicked in, wiping a SRM out of the sky. Turning, he obliterated the handheld launcher used to fire it with a shot from one of his PPCs. The shot was excessive, vaporizing the soldier using it, but he hoped to break the morale of some of the infantry.
If they ran away, he wouldn’t have to keep butchering them.
Michel spoke up, from where his Warhawk was supporting the eastern flank. “We have only encountered one battlemech - an ancient Hunchback.” Ace’s one time bondsman sounded disgusted. “It never even got in range to fight back.”
“These are brave soldiers,” Ace acknowledged. “Is the flank secure, quiaff?”
“I have sent a Striker Star to sweep the rear of the hills, but they report no resistance. Aff, there is no threat here.”
Looking at the domed city ahead of him, the young Galaxy Commander narrowed his eyes. “Good. Ivory Skate, prepare to move to flanking positions.” He switched channels. “Star Colonel Hawker, you are clear to take the gates.”
“Order acknowledged.” Steven Hawker had shown surprisingly little resentment over Ace hospitalizing him in what some had called a less than honorable Trial. Ace had been prepared for the possibility of having to fight and likely kill the late Ian Hawker’s protege, but instead the younger Hawker had thrown himself into reorganizing the Twenty-Seventh Cruiser Cluster after Ace pulled half the unit into the newly formed galaxy’s Command Cluster.
As two of the Cluster’s ‘mech trinaries swept forwards, carrying the elementals who would do the dirty work of securing the huge airlock gate complex, Ace had to give the man credit - he deserved to be a Star Colonel. Steven had confided that he had spent much of his recovery time from the broken back studying reports from Operation Revival, evaluating which tactics worked against the Inner Sphere and which had failed.
That study was in evidence as thirty ‘mechs swept across the limited resistance left, never pausing as they erased targets of opportunity between them and the gates.
Ace’s command star had moved to join the eastern half of the Ivory Skate, but he was still close enough to see the Elementals clinging to the Omnimechs (and a few battlemechs that had had the required hardpoints refitted by technicians) were using their free hands to fire at any infantry that didn’t flee the advance.
From what he saw there were no casualties and little damage even to armor before the force reached the gates. One Timber Wolf blew open a personnel hatch with its lasers and Elementals swarmed through it.
“Do you think this is a trap?” asked Michel quietly.
“They could demolish the gate,” Ace answered, the idea worrying him. “Any explosives sufficient to cause heavy losses to our elementals would also rupture the dome and endanger the city’s population, but I doubt that the ISF would be greatly concerned by that.”
“The DCMS appears to have abandoned this world, they may be near to defeat if they cannot spare frontline forces even for a prefectural capital.” The Steel Viper paused. “Although this world is no prize - the atmosphere is not natural, or so the briefing said.”
“It appears that they allowed industrial concerns to mine and manufacture without regard to the impact on the terraforming,” Ace admitted. “I had heard that worlds were ravaged by weapons of mass destruction during the Succession Wars, but this is just as bad and they did it to themselves.”
There was a ping from his console and he frowned, seeing activity on the distress frequency.
“...ark commander. I repeat, I am Bradley Dammann, Earl of Qandahar and I wish to speak to the Diamond Shark Commander.” The voice was nervous.
Ace cleared his throat and then hit transmit: “You are speaking to him.”
“Ah, I… I am instructed to…” Then he cut off and there were the sounds of what might be a struggle.
A moment later, a second voice spoke up. “I speak for the population of Fair Weather.”
“You and not the earl?” Ace asked drily.
The speaker lost something of his confidence. “He was useful to have your attention. I doubt my name would mean much to you. We offer the surrender of Fair Weather, but we have terms.”
“Do you have the leverage to enforce those terms?”
“We have the explosives that the ISF wished to use at the gates,” the man answered. “Several truckloads. I can still use them if you refuse me.”
Ace paused. “My warriors are already securing the gates. I will hear your terms but those explosives threaten your people far more than they do my own.”
“If we destroy the Dow-Jones Fusion Products factory, then your warriors are fighting for nothing. But if you let us govern ourselves then we will operate it for you,” the man said hastily. “We have had enough of outsiders spending our lives for their profit.”
“So you want it for your own profit?” Ace asked.
“We want to work safely! The DCMS and ISF murder protestors, but hundreds of workers die each year because managers care nothing for our lives!”
“I am Ace Enders,” he said quietly. “You may have heard of me.”
“I… yes. Your name is known here.”
“And your name?”
“Ibrahim Chebli.”
“Ibrahim, what your factory builds may need to change to meet the needs of our Clan. But we are not fond of waste, and the loss of skilled workers is exactly that. If you surrender the city and the explosives then I pledge that you, or another that the workers elect, will oversee the safety of those who labor here.”
The man laughed, a little hollowly. “You drive a hard bargain, O-Same. But I accept. I will send you the coordinates for the explosives in the next five minutes.”
“Bargained well and done,” Ace confirmed and switched to the command channel. “Steven, I have been contacted by the civilian authorities offering to surrender. Are your warriors under fire?”
“Quineg, Galaxy Commander. The elementals report they have dealt with the guards and they are opening the locks for my ‘mechs.”
A set of map coordinates appeared on the text channel of the distress frequency. “I am sending you what may be the location of explosives that were supposed to be planted at the gates. Your warriors are to proceed on neutral territory rules - do not fire until fired upon, but act cautiously.”
“You suspect a trap?”
“I believe the man I spoke to is honest,” Ace replied. “That does not mean he is competent. Further sabotage is possible.”
“Understood.”
It took half an hour for the gates to admit the rest of the Twenty-Seventh, followed by Ivory Skate. A distant explosion as Ace was entering the city had everyone on guard, until reports came in from the Elemental point securing the water purification plant that they and workers at the plant had interrupted an ISF attempt to destroy the facilities.”
The architecture under the dome had few of the traditional Japanese touches Ace had seen in other worlds. Even the Earl’s palatial residence, which doubled as an administrative building was using local stone and a terracotta-coloured plaster, with none of the wood and paper walls that were more common. Of course, he realized, there wasn’t going to be much of a timber trade on a ravaged world like Qandahar. Small towers rose from buildings scattered across the city’s landscape, all of a single style.
“The plant will need repairs,” Ibrahim admitted as he faced Ace in the main hall of the palace, paying little attention to the cluster of warriors who had dismounted to escort the galaxy commander. He was slightly built but swarthy. Though Clan law would technically prohibit his carrying the pistol thrust through his belt, Ace had allowed it for now. Caste assignments would be made later, and if Ibrahim elected to take a position in enforcing the new compact and laws here then a case could be made that he was a police-warrior. “That is less urgent than a breach of the dome but no less dangerous in the long run.”
“We have technicians skilled in such matters,” he replied, not mentioning that they were in high demand. The state of infrastructure along the edges of the Draconis Combine were almost as poor as that of dark caste enclave he’d grown up in, Granted, the major cities of better developed worlds embarrassed even the finest cities of the Kerensky Cluster. But that should mean that there were engineers in the Combine capable of maintaining and replacing the water plant. “I will have you added to the list of priorities.”
Ibrahim scowled accusingly at Ace. “We have heard that before.”
“The fusion reactors built here are going to be needed for the power grids of other worlds,” Ace told him. “That means we need your people healthy and willing to work. The technicians needed will not be diverted to make sure some lord has proper plumbing for his fountains. In the meantime, the workshops on our dropships may be able to fabricate components that you cannot obtain locally.”
The man nodded. “That would be appreciated but… using the military grade fusion reactors for local power grids?”
Ace laughed. “Not exactly. I am aware that that is an invitation for bandits to try to seize it as spare parts for their battlemechs. Some production lines will be modified to construct civilian grade machines that cannot be repurposed so easily. As for the others, we do have some use for older reactors.”
“We will trust you, for now,” Ibrahim told him cautiously.
He clapped Ibrahim on the shoulder and escorted him to the door. “That is how trust is built, one day at a time.”
For a wonder, Annika Enders kept her peace until the door closed behind the local. However: “Why are we wasting our time on backwater worlds like this?!” she exploded once the Diamond Sharks were alone. “This is supposed to be a frontline Galaxy. We should be moving on the real enemies around New Samarkand, not picking off third-rate militias that could be handled by a garrison cluster.”
“Where would you get the garrison cluster from, Star Commander?” asked Steven Hawker rhetorically. The Star Colonel was leaning against one of the ornamented stone pillars that supported the hall’s high ceiling. “The garrisons are already stretched to cover the worlds taken three years ago.”
“Do we really need to take these worlds now?” asked Val more moderately than the former Burrock. “Surely if New Samarkand is taken and this region is cut off from the Combine they would wither on the vine and we could secure them at leisure.”
“Could we?” Ace asked. He walked up to the low dais and leant on the Earl’s vacant throne. “Setting aside that many warriors would still think such operations were beneath them?”
Val had the honesty not to meet his eyes.
Ace nodded. “Two reasons,” he continued. “Firstly, another Clan might move in - the Smoke Jaguars are furious that we refused to let them cross our occupied worlds to claim worlds. Given long enough they could move in and then we woud find ourselves caught between two swathes of worlds under their control - or two ongoing rebellions, given how inept their occupation usually is.”
There was a ripple of laughter from the warriors at that jibe against the rival clan.
“The other possibility would be the formation of a bandit kingdom at our backs. Hardly any better,” Ace observed. “So no, this is not the most glorious of missions. But it must be done, and if a garrison force could manage it, could they do so as swiftly?” He shook his head. “The DCMS strategy is to buy time to extract soldiers and industry from our path, trying to move it beyond the truce line. By striking now, we have forced them to abandon the factories.”
“If this pace is needed,” observed Steven. “We should spread out to secure worlds more swiftly, quaiff?”
Ace glanced over at him. “Agreed. If the DCMS was going to leave regulars or mercenaries anywhere it would be here, on the prefectural capital. But nor will I spread us out too far. These worlds have been plagued by bandits so they will have defenses of their own. From here, each Cluster will be moving independently to secure these worlds as quickly as possible. That includes winning over local inhabitants and convincing them to accept us as their rulers. I am trusting that you all understand that we cannot afford to bog down fighting insurgencies.” He grinned. “We will do this quickly, but we will also do it right. And next year we will sweep down out of the corewards Combine to join the push on New Samarkand.”
Yamashiro, New Samarkand
Galedon Military District, Draconis Combine
12 August 3053
Minoru Kurita was sure, as soon as he saw Michi Noketsuna’s face, that this would not be a good meeting.
He’d spent the last three hours dealing with ceremonial reviews of reports from the nobility of a dozen worlds that were little more than promises that they had heirs and their succession was secure and uncontested. The more, in this case, being repeated mention of every unmarried daughter they had. There was a certain artful nonchalance to how they all tried to make it seem incidental but also impossible to ignore.
The Coordinator just wanted to take off his haori and his boots, then have a quiet and hopefully positive conversation. “Whatever it is, give me a moment,” he told the Gunji-no-Kanrei and slumped into a chair.
A moment later, barefoot and with the haori thrown over one of the spare chairs, he straightened his seat. Two out of three was clearly all he was going to get. “You may proceed.”
Noketsuna slammed a stack of papers down in front of Chandrasekhar Kurita. “Do you know what these are?”
The rotund man lifted the top of the stack delicately and examined it. “Oh… oh dear.”
“The much heralded Tora is a ****** paper tiger!” the general snarled, “Do you have any idea how many mechwarriors have died because of it?”
Chandresakhar ran one thumb through the stack. “Too many. Far too many.”
“What exactly is happening?” Minoru enquired, feeling a terrible sense of exhaustion. All he wanted was for one damned thing to go well. Was that too much to ask?
Noketsuna pulled his chair back and sat down, face suddenly tired. “The ‘mech has proven… fragile. The extra-light reactor and improved ammunition storage were noted as an issue on the Grand Dragon, but it was manageable. Unfortunate, the issues appear exacerbated on the Tora. There has been a consistent pattern of the ‘mechs suffering crippling damage after even a single salvo from Diamond Shark ‘mechs.”
“A single salvo?” Minoru could imagine how devastating that would be. Normally mechwarriors would attempt to withdraw once damage mounted, yielding ground in hope of winning back when their ‘mech had been repaired. The greater Clan firepower made that something of a problem but it wasn’t usually to this extent and individual battlemechs taking significant damage could fall back to cover and at least support their comrades.
A ‘mech destroyed in its first encounter with the enemy could neither withdraw for repairs nor support its more intact comrades. It was a liability.
“The ammunition storage is supposed to vent explosions without damaging core components,” his cousin said in confusion as he leafed through the papers, giving each but a single glance. “But major engine failures are occurring in almost all of these cases… I will take the matter to the engineers, but…”
“There is no time,” Noketsuna confirmed. “The delivery of almost a hundred Tora in the first production run was a herculean accomplishment. I retract none of my praise for that, but more than half of them are out of action already. Something is seriously wrong.”
Minoru sighed. “Chandresakhar, correct me if I am wrong but another production run is already underway?”
“That’s correct,” the industrial magnate confirmed. “I can send instructions to halt construction until the cause is identified, but there is no knowing how long that will take.”
Noketsuna frowned. “Can we replace the engines with conventional fusion engines?”
“I’m no engineer, but I doubt it would be simple and undoubtedly it would impact performance.” Chandresakhar made a concessionary gesture. “Though perhaps not so much as these reports indicate.”
“The Dragonsteeth regiments have taken significant losses in equipment,” Subhash Indrahar observed. “Perhaps the current production run can be completed and sent to them for warriors who survived the destruction of their existing battlemechs.”
Minoru laughed bitterly. “They will be paying the price for their poor coordination with the rest of the DCMS. The rumors that are no doubt spreading will not reach them before the Toras do.”
His cousin nodded politely towards Indrahar. “I am sure that the Director can control the flow of information. In the meantime, our designers will be instructed to improvise an alternative for any further production that does not use unreliable components.”
“Reserve future production runs for the final defensive force of New Samarkand,” the Coordinator ordered coldly. “There is no shortage of volunteers willing to pilot any ‘mech that becomes available. Any tooling not needed for the modified designs can be packaged for use on any project that requires it. Something must be salvaged from this debacle.”
Noketsuna rested one elbow on the table. “The K2 upgrades for the Panther are working,” he said in a conciliatory tone. “I have not doubt that you could work the same wonder with the Tora with enough time.”
“The credit for that goes to the engineers,” Chandrasekhar told the veteran soldier. “I will inform the team’s working on our newer designs that they must be tested for these flaws.” He waved the stack of paper illustratively. “Through live fire if we must. The Daimyo is the only new design we have that does not use engines of this type, it is critical that we rectify such issues.”
“Is there any more bad news?” Minoru asked, aware he sounded rather plaintive. His bare feet rubbed against the soft carpet.
“No new bad news,” Noketsuna said in a tone that made it clear there was no good news either.
Chandrasekhar also shook his head. “There have been some minor issues with construction of the Gunslinger production lines on Quentin, but nothing outside of expectations. And that design, at least, was thoroughly tested by ComStar.”
Subhash Indrahar said nothing at first, a pointed silence that told Minoru that the Tora’s issues were not the worst thing he was going to hear about.
“Tell me,” he said and for a moment the three men around the table looked at him the way he had seen courtiers react to his grandfather on the rare occasions Takashi had given a direct order rather than a circumlocution that suggested rather than commanded.
“Deprived of their immediate access to military force, the Black Dragon Society is investigating political options,” the spymaster said quietly. “My informants report that they are attempting to make contact with your half-brother.”
For a moment Minoru thought he had misheard. The shocked look on Noketsuna and Chandresakhar’s faces told him he had not. “Indrahar,” he said flatly. “I know you too well to believe that this is a joke.”
The oldest man at the table looked unusually tentative. “During your father’s youth, before he met your mother, there was another woman in his life. So far as I am aware, he was not aware that there was a child.”
“But you were aware,” he accused.
“Yes. Your father was an only child and at the time had no legitimate offspring. My obligation was to ensure there were options for the succession, and unfortunately your grandfather would not have approved of the mother as a consort. It was… challenging… to persuade him of your mother’s merits. It was only after your brother and sister were presented at court and received Takashi’s approval that young Franklin became superfluous.”
Noketsuna’s eyes narrowed sharply. “And you tried to ‘clean up’ after yourself,” he accused.
“You defend the Combine in your way,” Indrahar replied calmly. “I do so in mine. I have done worse things in the name of the Dragon that this. But in this case, there was a failure. The boy was confirmed as alive only recently and unfortunately the cell involved were not entirely without ties to more conservative nobles.”
“The ‘boy’ as you call him would be several years my elder,” Minoru said bleakly. “And we no longer have a clear heir and spare.”
“Indeed.” The old man shrugged. “I do counsel that you take care of that, tono.”
He flushed, as much with anger as embarrassment. “A child heir would be too desirable a puppet.”
“It is also a requirement for there to someday be an adult heir,” pointed out Chandresakhar gently.
“And there would be no need to announce the existence of an heir until they are older,” added Indrahar.
Minoru shook his head. “Provide me with all available information on my… brother, Director,” he said with all the firmness he could bring to bear. “And take no action against him without my express consent. Your handling of this has been considerably less than I expect of you.”
The director of the ISF nodded obediently, but Minoru knew that that meant absolutely nothing. His father couldn’t control Indrahar and nor could his grandfather. They could only work with him… or kill him. It had been the problem of the ISF for the entire time that the organization had existed.
“Moving along, I gather that the Shin Legion will be deploying soon. It will be interesting to see how their own newer designs perform,” he changed the subject.
Noketsuna sat up straight. “We will be paying attention to that,” he promised. “I intend to deploy them alongside the Screaming Eagle regiments in place of the Ryuken - it should let us pull them off the line to refit and integrate replacement personnel.”
“I trust your judgment on the matter,” the young Coordinator assured him. “I am assured by Colonel Mackenzie Wolf that the two regiments of his Dragoons that we have contracted for will be departing Outreach in the next week, but it will be four months before they reach the frontlines.”
It was entirely possible the Diamond Sharks would arrive before the Wolf Dragoons. Not likely, but possible.
“Could we not arrange a jump circuit as your father did for the regiment they sent to Luthien?” asked Chandresakhar.
“Not without disrupting all our other shipping. There are never enough jumpships,” Noketsuna told him. “The fact they bring their own jumpships is part of why the Dragoons command such fees.”
And they may prefer to have jumpships they can trust if they have to leave the Combine in a hurry, Minoru thought. Whether because of some significant reversal of our fortunes or because some imbecile like Grieg Samsonov.
It was the Ryuken and the Galedon Regulars that had been deployed against the Wolf Dragoons in 3028 and 3029, when the mercenaries had been pushed into open warfare against their erstwhile employees. Minoru hadn’t forgotten that and he was quite sure that the new commander of the Dragoons was even more conscious of that fact.
-
Dali, Tamar
Clan Wolf Occupation Zone
9 September 3053
“How do you like your new battlemech?” Ulric asked once they had both dismounted.
Phelan Ward was grinning wildly as he removed his neurohelmet. “It’s… it is fantastic, Khan Ulric. I thought that Grinner was part of my past.”
The Khan nodded and smiled. Clan Wolf had encountered few Wolfhound’s during the invasion and the mercenary’s own had been almost completely destroyed on The Rock when they captured him, there had been a few found on Tamar. Piecing together two damaged chassis around the fusion reactor from an Adder had been a relatively minor challenge for the Clan’s technicians.
Wrapped in ferrofibrous plating and carrying Clan lasers, the upgraded Wolfhound was one of a kind - a gift from the Khan to his protege as a reward for defeating Vladimir Ward in the final round of the Trial of Bloodright. As satisfying as beating his one time captor to the floor had been, Phelan seemed even happier with this gift and had accepted the invitation to test it on the training grounds outside the Ducal palace without hesitation.
It didn’t seem to occur to the boy that it was as much a leash as a reward.
“You make good use of it,” Ulric praised. While his own Executioner had far more firepower and armor, the agile little ‘mech had been a difficult target and Phelan’s accuracy with the lasers had been superb once the targeting systems were updated for the new weapons. “A powerful argument against those who say that the Inner Sphere has produced nothing of virtue.”
“That and Timbiqui Dark?” the young mechwarrior joked.
Ulric chuckled. “Yes, that too.” He had grown fond of that beer, and was pleased that there were several cases stored away in Duke Kelswa’s beer cellar. “Unfortunately, when the Clans see something of value, we naturally begin considering how to obtain more of it.”
“Like the Jade Falcons and the Nova Cats’ offensives,” Phelan observed, mood darkening. “Once the Diamond Sharks found that loophole in the truce, they were quick to seize on it.”
“Very true,” he answered and led his companion towards the changing rooms where they could shower and get back into uniform.
Even the Khan could rarely command privacy in operational spaces, but the warriors with the next claim on the training field had set out already and it wasn’t close to change of shift for those on patrol, so they had the chambers to themselves. “You may have noted the frustration our younger warriors are feeling,” he led as he closed the door behind them.
Phelan nodded. “I knew the trials would be ferocious but I did not expect so many of the contenders would fight to the death.”
“They have had a taste of war,” Ulric agreed. “And for those joining the touman now, they have spent the last years of training anticipating glorious and easy victories like those of Operation Revival. Finding themselves in garrison, rarely near enough to another Clan for serious combat…” He sighed as he dropped his shorts into the laundry bag.
“A lot of energy and not enough to do with it?”
“Exactly,” he confirmed, pleased the young warrior had grasped the point. “As Khan I must find a direction for that before they lash out on their own.”
“I would have thought that they would be too busy policing the occupied worlds,” Phelan said as they entered the showers. “I heard from Tor Miraborg recently, he told me about how he is having to clamp down on skirmishing between local leaders who felt that without the Free Rasalhague Republic authorities, they were free to settle old grudges.”
Ulric picked up a bottle and examined the instructions carefully to make sure it was actually soap and not something else. The inner sphere seemed to find commercial branding more important than clarity when it came to marking containers. “Sometimes our people and those of the Inner Sphere are more similar than they seem.” Satisfied, he began to lather himself up.
“With old Kurita, Lyran and then Rasalhague landholders all brushing up against each other, it is not that surprising,” Phelan observed, entering the next stall. “There’s a lot of competing claims and even if there are not all that many ‘mechs left out there, you do not need a ‘mech to kill someone.”
He stepped under the showerhead and let the spray wash soap and sweat off him. “Raids in the night or under other conditions that make the origins deniable. Unfortunately, defeating such campaigns are not the sort of action that our warriors are hoping for. And I have ordered garrison commanders to show restraint. I did not come here to bring the Inner Sphere under our boot - and injecting ourselves into such squabbles risks us becoming as entangled in them as the Smoke Jaguars are in their attempts to force Clan ways on the worlds they occupy.”
The other warrior turned to him, looking surprised. “You may wish to reconsider that, my Khan. If you let them keep fighting then some of those worlds will turn into bloodbaths. Even ComStar has to police their own enclaves or the Successor Lords would take them back, claiming that they were not taking responsibility.”
Ulric grunted in understanding. “It is a difficult line to walk - too little and, as you say, chaos ensues.” Which could lead to problems with the Clan Council… more problems, rather. “But too much and we become the oppressors. What do you think of Natasha’s latest brainstorm - you should be receiving the Clan Council briefs now that you have won your trial?”
Phelan paused, raking his hands through his thick black hair to make sure he had all the shampoo out. “Rasalhague?”
“Yes, that one.”
He pursed his lips. “Taking the world from the Smoke Jaguars would certainly give the Clan some fighting. With how much the Jaguars have bled to keep control over Rasalhague, I doubt they’d give it up easily.”
“Watch your contractions,” Ulric reminded him casually and turned off his shower. “A hard fight is not exactly a flaw in Natasha’s proposal, quiaff?”
“Aff,” the younger man agreed, following him out to pick up a clean towel and start drying off. “But even if we win, we would be taking control of a world that is more of a mess than the ones you are already occupying. They might welcome us as an improvement over the Smoke Jaguars… but they might not.”
The Khan nodded in agreement. And of course, Rasalhague was a running sore for the Smoke Jaguar. Every clash between the resistance and the garrison there was a continued humiliation for the former ilKhan’s clan, and a drain on their resources. “It is a gamble. The other option is to send warriors to launch trials against the Jade Falcon occupation zone.”
“Taking worlds from them?” Phelan asked warily, no doubt remembering that those worlds had once been part of the Federated Commonwealth, like Tamar itself.
“More to secure resources,” Ulric told him. “Our invasion has impacted on the local economy and we cannot always meet needs easily from the worlds we control. The merchant caste has drawn up a list of minerals and other goods that are in demand - trials of possession could secure much of them from Jade Falcon worlds and force them to commit forces to defend those worlds rather than supporting their advance into the Federated Commonwealth.” There was no immediate answer and he glanced over to see Phelan studying the wall. “Phelan?”
“I am sorry,” the young man answered. “It just… Arc-Royal is one of the worlds on the border. If the Jade Falcons have not invaded yet…”
“As of our last report, they have not.” Ulric shook his head. “But you are right. It is only a matter of time. If they do not, then the Nova Cats will.”
Phelan sighed. “The resources taken from those worlds… that will mean people in the Jade Falcon occupation zone go short.”
That, Ulric thought, was a problem for the Jade Falcons. But all he said was: “There are few problems that have ideal solutuions, Phelan.” He finished toweling off and waited for the other man to do so. “I will give you access to reports from our occupation zone, can you draw up a list of where you think our intervention would be best accepted - and estimate what forces would be needed?”
That would give him a cutdown to work with when he allowed commanders to bid for the chance to take on the missions.
“Of course,” Phelan agreed. “But it is going to be a patch on the problem. If you want the people there to stop fighting then it is going to mean being more involved in their governments.”
“There have been others advocating that,” Ulric agreed.
“Natasha is one of them, isn’t she?”
He let the contraction pass. Natasha had never bothered to clean up her language after her return to the Clans, not caring who it offended. “She does,” the Khan agreed. “But most of those who agree with her on that are Crusaders, who actively want us to conquer more of the Inner Sphere. If I concede too much to them, then they may be able to push towards overturning the truce.”
Ulric suspected that Natasha’s comments about needing a stronger grip on the occupied worlds were things that Erik had said to her. If the famous Black Widow had taken a hand in administering any of the worlds the Wolf Dragoons had been granted as landholds over their illustrious history, it was a very well-kept secret.
“More pressingly,” he continued, “You may have heard what happened with the Smoke Jaguars? Warriors laying claim to tracts of land simply because they liked the look of them and then having no idea what to do with them. They spawned at least four rebellions in their ignorance of local economics and politics.”
Phelan nodded. “It is a fine line to walk, as you said.”
Ulric clapped him on the shoulder and led him around to the lockers where they had left their uniforms. “Get me that list and… I will think about what you have said.”
Thinking cost him nothing and committed him to nothing.
-
Curiouser and curiouser... ;)
-
Steven Hawker learning and seemingly accepting his lot surprised me.
On the other hand Annika refusing to learn anything is not a surprise to me.
-
Opalescent Reflections
Stacking the Deck
Chapter 5
The Triad, Tharkad
Donegal March, Federated Commonwealth
10 October 3053
“How are you liking Tharkad?” Melissa Steiner-Davion asked politely as she greeted Wei formally for the cameras.
Wei Rong gave her a wry look. “Out of every world in the Lyran Commonwealth, your ancestor chose this icebox as their capital? Why?” She’d actually been in Tharkad City for two days now, but the first day had been spent at the HPG station, meeting essentially everyone involved in keeping the HPGs of the Lyran capital running. In a couple of days she’d be flying halfway around the planet to do the same at the back-up site. The amount of message traffic needed to keep a Successor State going was staggering, and the union with the Federated Suns had only expanded the workload.
Melissa, who had probably been asked the same thing dozens of times, smiled graciously. “We have a long family history of winter sports.”
“It does have a certain austere beauty,” Wei allowed. “Albeit one I think best appreciated from a warm room.” Possibly involving good company and a rug made from the fur of a large predator, although she was fairly sure the Archon was too adroit a politician to say whether or not she and her husband had tried that.
“Hilton Head is beautiful in its own way,” Melissa replied and took Wei’s arm so that the two of them could enter the reception hall together. “But I’m not sure I would want to live there.”
It’s not my first choice, Wei thought. “I don’t plan to retire there, to be honest.”
The reception room was high ceilinged, with tracery in gold accenting the cream ceiling and outlining the nine large oil paintings that recorded significant moments in the history of the Lyran Commonwealth and, of course, of House Steiner. Royal blue curtains framed windows down one wall, and on the other wall they framed mirrors done up in the same way as the windows.
Dozens of high nobles and officials were already present, this was a relatively select gathering and as Wei understood the matter the number of guests wouldn’t break a hundred. Tomorrow, on the other hand, she’d be visiting the full Estates-General, which would be a much larger event.
“Her majesty, Archon Melissa Steiner-Davion,” a loud-voiced herald called out. “And her excellency Primus Rong Wei of ComStar!” He’d got her name the right way around, which was a nice touch, thought Wei. She was entirely accustomed to the standard protocol of using personal names first, but it wasn’t how she had been raised. Heads turned around the room, although it could hardly be a surprise that she was here.
A handsome, bearded man swept forwards. “Your majesty, your excellency,” he offered with a roguish grin. “It’s a fortunate day to meet such lovely ladies.”
Melissa laughed at the flirtatious remark. “Your gallantry is as welcome as ever, Thomas. How are your children.”
“Growing like weeds,” he said brightly. “Gregor has even broken up with his first girlfriend.”
“A true rite of passage,” the Archon mused, then released Wei’s arm so that Thomas could kiss her hand. “Gregor is five, by the way.”
“Then you can only be Thomas Bradford,” Wei concluded as the gentleman kissed her own hand graciously. “I’m glad to see that your family’s traditions are intact.” Harrison Bradford, the previous duke of Coventry, had been linked romantically to Melissa’s mother after she became a widow - at least in the popular press. It was fairly unlikely that there had been anything but friendship between the two but it was minor legend in the Lyran court that Thomas Bradford had attempted to charm Katrina Steiner when he was seventeen, only a third the then-Archon’s age, allegedly unaware of the identity of the woman wearing LCAF uniform at the event in question.
“In person,” the duke admitted. “Alas, the duty of upholding the family tradition now rests with my son since I am old, respectable and my wife even trusts me unsupervised.”
Knowing that the Duke of Coventry was only a decade or so her senior, Wei took that as being merely a conversation point. “That is only one tradition of your family,” she answered. “I believe you are here today to uphold another, that being unswerving loyalty to House Steiner.”
“I’ll drink to that,” the duke agreed and reached out to a passing servant, deftly managing three of the champagne glasses in one hand for a moment before handing one each to Melissa and to Wei. “To House Steiner!”
There were murmurs of agreement from others in earshot, some raising their glasses to join the impromptu toast.
Wei raised her own glass. “To the health, and wealth, of your people.”
“Very diplomatic,” Thomas approved. “Dare I hope that your presence here denotes a closer alliance against a certain foe of our nation. The presence of the ComGuards on the frontlines would be a delight to our soldiers and a dreadful blow to the damned Falcons.”
“Were the ComGuards to directly participate in the current fighting, at best I believe the Jade Falcons and Nova Cats would see that as a chance to avenge their defeat on Camlann,” she told him pleasantly. “At worst, the Clans might take it as a breach of the truce, freeing the Clans to move into the Isle of Skye, among other regions.”
“You make a regrettable amount of sense,” the duke conceded, before draining the contents of his glass. Coventry lay above the truceline, if not by very much.
“With that said,” Melissa added gracefully, “The Primus and I will be discussing certain other measures that may be to the benefit of the realm and to the safety of our worlds.”
Bradford smiled, a little thinly. “It would be ungracious to complain about aid that is being offered when we are in need of it, your excellency.”
“And it is entirely understandable that you are concerned for the wellbeing of your world,” Wei told him.
The duke stepped away to allow others to approach and Melissa nodded after him. “Coventry gives its name to one of the historic provinces of Donegal. There is a real risk that most of those worlds will be under Clan rule if they are not stopped, Primus.”
“I am aware,” Wei replied, toying with her glass. “The First Circuit believes that we should make the most possible use of the time won on Camlann. I know the ComGuard’s losses are smaller in absolute terms compared to those you suffered even before the invasion resumed, but proportionately they were very high and it will take time to recover from them.”
“And I suppose you would overrule them if you could?” the Archon asked. “Your cloak of neutrality is wearing thin.”
“Yes, but people react so strangely if I undress in public,” she answered with a smile.
Melissa shook her head. “Stationing the ComGuards along our periphery border to free up our forces isn’t really very far from taking sides, Primus. Unless you’re doing the same for the Clans?”
“To be fair, we do defend our enclaves along the periphery border and it can be hard to determine exactly where pirates intend to land if our aerospace fighters are attempting orbital interception,” Wei pointed out. “But we aren’t going to get involved if two Clans start shooting at each other.” She paused, recalling some reports. “When they do so, that is. There is a degree of friction already.”
“Good to hear,” Melissa mused. “And I suppose that unlike ourselves, the Clans have no interest in joint ventures for upgraded technology.”
“They don’t really need our help,” Wei pointed out. “And if we sent up factories in their occupation zones, they’d be vulnerable if -” (she meant when) “- the truce breaks down.”
The Archon frowned. “Given how much we’re buying from the Free Worlds League - and your own purchases from them - I can understand the cooperation there and in the Combine, but did you really need to arrange a Hippogriff factory in the Taurian Concordat? As I understand it, Protector Calderon doesn’t even believe the Clans exist, much less that there is a slim possibility of them becoming a threat to his nation.”
“My own understanding is that Protector Calderon’s doubts were only with regard to the earliest reports, which you must admit seemed fantastical at the time. And I say that as the one who was offering warnings of the impending invasion.”
That got a small laugh from the Archon. “Yes, that is fair. But still, the Concordat’s continued build up of forces along our border is drawing forces away from facing the Clans.”
“I hope that the ComGuards will be able to offset that to a degree. And let’s be honest, at the current rate, the Taurians will be building Hippogriffs before the Combine’s factory on Marduk becomes fully active,” Wei added. “They keep raiding the component manufacture to support their own products rather than the one the factory is supposed to build.”
“It’s a cause for… well not amusement,” Melissa noted. “I felt honestly sorry for Omi Kurita when James Sandoval suggested it might be to the benefit of the DCMS if he sent a regiment of infantry there, not to take the world back - much as I’m sure he’d like to - but to see that the factory was actually put to its intended use.”
Wei understood the temptation and Anastaius Focht had been considering tasking one of the battalions of ComGuards currently keeping the peace along that often fractious border with exactly that, but that would not be very diplomatic. “If it weren’t for the resumption of fighting, I don’t think they would be under quite so much pressure,” she said instead. “At least the Gunslinger project isn’t seeing the same issues.”
Developed jointly during the Terran conferences a few years ago, several factories across the Inner Sphere were getting close to putting the Gunslinger assault ‘mech into production.
Melissa nodded. “I believe the HildCo factory on St Ives is currently looking as if they might be the first to put the design into production. It would have been ironic if their first deployment was against the Capellans.”
“At least the new Chancellor is being more reasonable than his mother.”
“We both know what a low bar that is,” the Archon said drily. “As it is, I gather that the first two Gunslingers built will be going to my son and Candace’s.”
“Prince Victor or one of his brothers?” enquired Wei.
“Arthur,” Melissa replied. “Victor has my mother’s old Warhammer and Peter got a Hippogriff from Nanking before he joined the Third Davion Guards.”
There was a certain weight to those words and Wei recalled that the Third Davion Guards Regimental Combat Team was currently facing the Clans.
“Ah,” Melissa said before an uncomfortable silence could develop. “I should introduce you to Anatoly.”
The name didn’t jump out at Wei but when she saw the tall, slender man Melissa was leading her towards, she recognised him as the Duke of Alarion. Something Serfass… well, Anatoly Serfass, presumably.
“Anatoly,” the Archon said brightly, “Would you mind introducing the Primus around for me. I need to touch up my make-up before I circulate.”
“I would be honored,” the man said gravely and bowed deeply, although he made no attempt to kiss Wei’s hand. “Primus.”
“Your grace,” she agreed as Melissa stepped away, shielded by two aides from guests wishing to speak with her. “The peace of Blake be with you.”
“Peace would indeed be a rare and precious gift,” he said solemnly. “However, in its absence, I have been having productive discussions with Precentor Murphy and Precentor Weis with regard to sharing expertise on orbital construction.”
“I recall authorizing some firms to contract work,” Wei admitted. “You have quite extensive orbital colonies as I recall?”
“By current standards. Nothing compared to the Star League’s,” he said modestly. “However, those discussions were mostly regarding military construction… I understand that you have been pushing to restore the Venusian solar shade.”
“That’s right. Amaris famously wrecked it trying to use it as a weapon, and it’s been a - well, I didn’t iintend on a pun, but a shadow of its former self is all too accurate.”
“While I very much doubt if the national budget would support such work,” Duke Serfass advised, “Prior to the invasion, we were looking at the possibility of constructing one for the Albion system. It’s a fairly common waypoint between Alarion and Tharkad, but the planet itself had to be abandoned due to environmental damage during the early Succession Wars.”
Wei nodded. “A combination of rising temperatures and sea levels that was theorized to be the result of pollutants in the atmosphere?”
“Yes, that’s it! You’re familiar with the case?” he asked, sounding intrigued.
“Not in detail, I came across it while doing an overview of some of the damage done to worlds during the Second Succession War.”
Serfass nodded. “The theory is that a solar shade would cool the world enough that it might be possible to establish at least small scale colonies to put the mines and possibly even some manufacturing back to work. We know it was far from mined out, and if it could be economically worked there are sources for some rare minerals that we currently import from further away…”
“How would this be funded if the Archon can’t?” asked Wei curiously.
The duke smiled. “That would make it a matter for private enterprise, may I introduce you to a few people who would be interested in discussing the management of such a project…”
Star City, Polcenigo
Clan Smoke Jaguar Occupation Zone
19 November 3053
Stars flashed before Tyra’s eyes as she didn’t quite manage to duck her chin fast enough to keep her head from hitting the wall.
Years of training kicked in and she used the wall to brace her hips, kicking out before the man could grab hold of her. He was a brawler, not a trained fighter, and for all his size he didn’t manage to keep her workboot from catching up and the juncture of his legs.
The man - he wore a laborer’s heavy tunic - folded up with a scream. Tyra grabbed his head with both hands and drove his face into her knee.
One down, but a blur of motion reminded her that there was more than one assailant.
She ducked aside, raising one arm to deflect rather than block. The daughter of the Iron Jarl was always a target - in more than one way - and she had been taught how to handle men who didn’t take no for an answer.
The two-by-four glanced off her arm and Tyra cried out in pain, but most of the force was diverted and the wood splintered against the bricks of the alleyway.
This didn’t seem an impulsive act of lust though, it had been too calculated an ambush. No bluster or lewd looks, just purposeful violence.
The club-wielder drew his broken weapon back while the other two tried to get around her back. Tyra ignored the pain from her arm and closed with the armed man before he could swing again. Her good arm straightened and she drove her fist below his ribs.
He vomited the acidic remains of his last meal across her and Tyra snatched the wooden weapon from him as his grip loosened for a moment.
Whirling, the young woman caught another of the men across the side of the head with it. He reeled against the wall, hurt but not out.
She brandished the club, preparing to deal with the last of them but then a heavy weight crashed against the back of her knees and Tyra went sprawling on the floor.
The man she’d just disarmed had recovered too fast for her. Tyra’s face struck the wet pavement and then she screamed as a heavy boot came down on her forearm, forcing her to release her grip on her weapon.
“Stravag,” one of the men spat and another boot came down on her back, hammering Tyra down and forcing the air from her lungs.
God, not a spinal injury, she prayed. She knew what a struggle her father had faced with that, and the Smoke Jaguars wouldn’t provide a tenth the medical care that had been lavished on a hero of Rasalhague’s war for freedom. Hah, they might euthanize her rather than treat her!
Someone grabbed her by the back of her head and Tyra had just enough time to anticipate what was coming before her face crashed down into the paving. Her nose snapped and everything went white for a moment!
When her vision cleared, she was lying on the floor but no one was kicking her at least.
For a moment, Tyra wondered if all this had just been just for that beating but then she heard the crash of a metal garbage can falling over as someone crashed into it, sending the can and contents flying.
Two hands caught the bondswoman by her shoulders, and she realized even though the shoulder of her coveralls that one of the hands was metal and plastic. Whoever it was, they hauled her upright without significant effort.
“If I see any of you again,” a man warned in the clipped English of the Clans, “I will kill you. Now get out of my sight.” He didn’t raise his voice in anger, but was a note of confidence to it.
With her head ringing from the impact on the paving, Tyra didn’t recognise the voice of her savior. It wasn’t until they were out of the alleyway, the bondswoman leaning heavily against him, that she saw in the streetlights that it was Trent - the Star Captain she had been sent to fetch and carry for on Camlann.
What was he even doing here? She, like most of the bondsmen, had been sent to work on worlds well away from the truceline - places which they had little chance to escape from. Trent, she had assumed, had returned to his unit and this far from the Draconis Combine there were few frontline units. Garrison posts, with older warriors nearing the end of their careers and youngsters frantic to make a name for themselves to get a better assignment.
Tyra had been avoiding both, as most of the workers - clanborn and locals alike - did, whenever they could. She supposed she could easily have missed Trent being assigned here. His right arm was as much metal as flesh, his face still a horror of scars and reconstruction around the cybernetic eye. The Smoke Jaguars wasted no resources on the appearance of their warriors.
But it was undeniably him, after more than a year.
Tyra was glad to see him for a moment, then strangled the impulse. He was still a Smoke Jaguar, still her enemy. Even if he was kinder than most.
And he had just saved her, so she bit back an angry ‘What are you doing here?’ and tried to thank him. A jab of pain from her nose and a metallic taste on her lips reminded her to be more cautious.
Trent shook his head. “Is there somewhere we can get some medical supplies?”
Looking around, trying to remember the neighborhood, Tyra winced as her neck and ribs protested. “Senleven over there.” She pointed.
The Smoke Jaguar looked in the indicated direction, evidently finding the neon signs entirely indecipherable. “You will have to guide me,” he admitted.
With a groan, Tyra started limping down the street and Trent matched her pace, keeping his shoulder available for when she needed it.
The clerk inside the shop marked by the traditional three numbers seemed more at a loss by the sudden arrival of a scarred Smoke Jaguar warrior and a battered technician than Trent was with the interior of a shop. Before Tyra had even stopped blinking at the much brighter lights inside, he had spotted the shelves with household medicines.
Tyra crossed the counter, prepared to try to mediate but, to her surprise, Trent stacked the items he’d picked up by the till and slapped down a five C-bill note. “Do you have a washroom we can use?”
No doubt alarmed by the narrative of a Clan Warrior and a bloodied civilian, the clerk was edging her hand towards what was probably some sort of panic button, so Tyra added “I got mugged - he got rid of them.”
“Oh!” The woman relaxed slightly. “Yes, I’ll let you in.” She produced a keychain with one hand, trying to ring up the items with the other.
“Do that after you let us in,” Trent ordered.
“But your change!”
“Keep it!” he snapped, showing anger for the first time so far.
The small woman squeaked nervously and rushed to unlock a door partly hidden behind racks of snacks. The space inside wasn’t really large enough for two, once the toilet and sink were considered but they squeezed in anyway, Tyra sitting on the toilet while Trent turned on the sink. The warrior tore open a packet of bandages and soaked them in cold water before carefully beginning to wipe down Tyra’s face.
“You did not need to yell at her,” Tyra managed to get out past his ministrations. “It is just a broken nose.”
“And possibly ribs,” he said and then peeled back one of her eyelids. “And maybe a concussion. I am not sure.” He released her head for a moment and discarded the bloody bandages. “If those surats had friends, they will be less likely to see us in here.”
“Do you think they would?”
Trent opened some wet wipes and started giving her nose another wipe down, causing her to wince. “I do not know. You have enemies here, quineg?”
Tyra almost shook her head and then thought better of it. “Neg.”
He grunted unhappily. “This will hurt,” he warned and then straightened her nose.
She yelled in pain and lashed out reflexively with one hand, smacking him ineffectively in the chest.
Trent ignored the blow, holding her nose with two fingers while he took some tape out of a package. It was a two hand job so he was fumbling.
“Sorry,” Tyra apologized, eyes watering, and took the package of medical tape, extracting the contents for him to use to secure her nose, along with a little gauze to absorb the blood still escaping the abused soft tissue. She could see in the mirror (visible in glimpses as Trent moved) that he’d done an amateurish job, but it was better than nothing.
“I am lucky you came along,” she admitted.
Trent shook his head. “I was looking for you. Not because I expected this, so there was some luck involved.”
A thousand unpleasant reasons that he could be seeking her out came to mind, but most of them didn’t fit with receiving medical treatment in the washroom of a senleven. “That makes two of us that didn’t expect it.”
He wedged himself into the corner between the sink and the wall, and looked her over. “If it is not your enemies behind this, then it may be mine.”
“Yours?”
Trent scratched his head, along the line between his hair and the cybernetics. He avoided her eyes. “Jez Howell may have remembered that you overheard us speaking on Camlann. Possibly one of her patrons reminded her.”
“Why would they care at this point? Are you important now?” She didn’t see the telltale markings on his uniform that would advertise he had won a bloodname.
His lips curled. “No. But she is aligned with Leo Showers and rumor has it that the Khan’s control is not as firm as it was. If Jez were disgraced it could cost him a vote, or even tar him by association.” He lowered his hand and then met her eyes. “During the trials of bloodright for Brandon Howell’s legacy, my Mad Dog suffered a mysterious actuator failure when I was facing Jez’s nomination. I was fortunate to eject before the ‘mech was destroyed.”
Tyra remembered tales of Tyr operations against the DCMS. “You suspect sabotage?”
“The MasterTech of the Cluster I served with is… close to Jez Howell,” Trent said judiciously. “He can supervise the work on any ‘mech he wishes. I did not expect her to go that far…”
“Or to have some thugs corner me in an alleyway.” Tyra twisted slightly and winced. “You may be right about the ribs. Did you pick up any painkillers?”
Trent wordlessly handed over a packet, and she checked that they were rated as safe for concussions before popping two pills and swallowing them dry. “Thanks.” She grimaced. The next few days were going to be miserable, it wasn’t as if she’d have time off work to recover. “So why were you looking for me?”
“I need a new tech,” he told her. “One who I am sure is not in Jez Howell’s pocket.”
Tyra blinked. “Wait, me?”
“You are a tech.”
“I am a pilot. I can work as a tech, but I know aircraft, not ‘mechs.”
He spread his hands. “I know ‘mechs. I can teach you, and there would be months for you to study the differences.”
“Why would there be months?” Tyra asked.
Trent sighed. “I have been transferred to the homeworlds, to join a new unit. It will be at least two years before I come back to the Inner Sphere, allowing for travel time. Jez Howell may be able to pull strings in the occupation zone, but not a thousand light years away. Sarah Weaver is forming the unit and while she is not my patron, she would not tolerate interference in her command. Not even with a tech.”
Tyra leant back against the toilet’s cistern. “You think they will try again?”
He nodded. “You survived because - luck - I happened to catch up at the right moment. In two days, I will be gone and then…”
The Clan Homeworlds. Even further from home. “Why do you think you can trust me? I’m not going to work for Jez Howell, but you’re still a Smoke Jaguar…”
The Star Captain examined her for a moment. “And you do not consider yourself one of us, quineg?”
Tyra didn’t answer, she didn’t need to.
“That is our failure,” he told her. “Let me show you where our Clan comes from. Show you our strengths, not our weaknesses.”
“You haven’t answered me, Trent.” She knew it was a risk to address him like an equal, but right now he was acting like the supplicant. “Why me?”
“Because, since Camlann… you are the only person who looked at me and saw me, not this.” He used his right arm to indicate his disfigured face. “The only one.”
Tyra thought of her father. Thought of the people who saw her father’s wheelchair. Saw the scar on his face. The people who missed the man behind all that. “You said we leave in the next two days?”
There was something disturbingly heartwarming about the asymmetrical smile forced on Trent by his face.
-
Nadir Jump Point, Porthos
Clan Smoke Jaguar Occupation Zone
3 December 3053
The dropship taking Sarah Weaver and dozens of officers back to the homeworlds was a passenger transport captured during the invasion, not a military vessel. There was little point in ferrying equipment back to Huntress when factory fresh equipment would be available, the only omnimech in the hold was her own - just in case she faced any personal challenges on the route.
Truthfully, she had no real expectation of that, but the chance to eliminate a Khan through ‘fortuitous timing’ was not beyond some Clans. And the possibility of her itinerary being leaked was probably not beyond some of Sarah’s own Clan. After all, if she could think of it then no doubt less scrupulous warriors had also done so.
When she entered the cargo bay to check its condition, she did not expect to find it opened up for inspection already, two unfamiliar techs examining the hip actuators.
“Who are you?” she demanded, clinging to a handle near the entrance, already gathering her feet to kick off and leap across the bay at her.
Both looked up at the sudden interrogative - a young blonde woman and a man whose scars seemed worse even than Sarah’s own.
The latter saluted with a hand that was clearly cybernetic. “Star Captain Trent, my Khan.”
Trent… yes, he was one of those supposed to be aboard, Sarah thought. But: “And who is this with you?”
“Technician Tyra,” the woman reported in a wary tone.
“Tyra is newly assigned to me,” Trent added.
Sarah kicked off from the door and sailed across the cargo hold to catch hold of the Ebon Jaguar’s cockpit, standing inverted above the pair of them. She was not that possessive of the ‘mech, it was simply an available replacement when her Timber Wolf was too badly damaged on Camlann for economical repair, but the pair seemed suspicious. “And what has that to do with my ‘mech?”
“I am testing her skills,” the man reported. “As well as refreshing my own. I have recently learned that it is wise to be able to check the status of a ‘mech rather than trusting others.”
Was that why this Tyra was newly assigned? Sarah scowled at the thought. Still, it was a more productive use of the time than drinking, gambling and coupling which would probably be what most of the warriors would do during the journey. That had been her experience on the long journey to the Inner Sphere. “And in the absence of a ‘mech of your own, you decided to use my own, quiaff?”
“Aff,” Trent confirmed, straightening.
The saKhan was tempted to punch him in the head, but he had so much metal there that she would do more damage to her head. “Who gave you those scars?” she demanded instead.
“A Kungsarme mechwarrior,” the warrior told her matter-of-factly. “I do not know which regiment and no BattleROMs survived so I cannot check his markings.”
At least he made no excuses for his weakness. “Did the warrior survive?”
“Reports vary.” Trent seemed amused by the question. “My second claimed to have killed him but the details do not match my recollection. Possibly she defeated another ‘mech of the same type.”
The technician had turned away, clearly aware that this was a conversation between warriors and none of her business. “Where was this?” Sarah barked.
“Camlann, outside of Huntsvil.”
Sarah frowned in recollection. “You were with the 267th Battle Cluster? I remember there was a warrior who was so badly wounded that the medtechs did not believe he would survive.”
“I believe that I was the most severely injured warrior to survive within the Cluster, so that may have been myself.”
Kicking off lightly, Sarah flipped herself over to land facing him. “And what did you learn from that?” she challenged him, staring him in the eye.
“To recognise my enemies,” he replied immediately, “And not to make their mistake of leaving a foe alive.”
He meant it, she decided. However severe his injuries were, they had not broken his spirit. Perhaps they had burned some weakness out of him. “Good answer, be sure to pass those lessons onto our newest warriors.”
Trent’s lips twisted. “From what I have heard, most of them were from sibkos taken from other Clans. Will they be suited to be Smoke Jaguars?”
“If not, they will not pass their trial of position,” Sarah told him matter-of-factly. Truthfully, fewer of the cadets were outsiders than Showers claimed. More and larger sibkos had been formed ever since he became Khan, in the 3030s, preparing for invasion if the chance came - or if it did not, to have the numbers to force the Wardens to heel. As it was, the cadets were younger than usual to graduate. Records had been adjusted to obscure this, and most would be the normal age by the time they reached the Inner Sphere in a few years.
“We chose sibkos being trained by warriors with beliefs in accord with the Jaguars,” she continued. Telling Trent the truth would be pointless - sharing a secret was the best way to ensure it was no longer a secret. “In some cases, those warriors were taken as isorla alongside their cadets and will add their experience to Tau Galaxy. Beyond that, it will be up to you to make Jaguars of them.”
“I look forward to the challenge, my khan.”
Sarah nodded and then looked at the Ebon Jaguar. “What do you think of it?”
“Your ‘mech?”
“What else?”
Trent half-turned to look at the omnimech. “A formidable design. An improvement upon the Timber Wolf?”
“Indeed. The Wolves are very proud of their designs, even the Dire Wolf that we took from them.” Sarah smirked. “This provides more pod-space and the lower slung design makes for a harder target, offsetting the reduction in armor. A new generation of battlemechs for a new generation of Smoke Jaguars, quiaff?”
“Aff,” Trent said slowly. “Though not all of Tau Galaxy will be new, we must have some experience to show them how to wage war, quiaff?”
She threw her head back and laughed. “Yes, so long as we remain fit to lead them. And with the war against the Inner Sphere expanding there will be too much need for warriors to send us off to the solahma. We may still be fighting the Successor Lords ten years from now.”
There was a startled noise from the technician, one that she tried to hide.
Sarah gave the woman a sharp look. “You have something to say, quiaff?”
“Tyra,” Trent said in a warning tone.
“No, let her speak.” Sarah closed her hands into a fist.
“I must have misunderstood,” the woman said in a nervous voice. “I thought that the truce with the… spheroids had more than twelve years left.”
Sarah seized her by the front of her coveralls and yanked her up to face her. “The truce ends when we say it ends, technician. We are Smoke Jaguars, quiaff?”
“A-aff?”
She released the woman. Civilians, there was a reason they were not allowed to make important decisions in any sane Clan! “I hope she is better at ‘mech repairs than she is at understanding politics.”
“Too much politics brought down Clan Mongoose” Trent observed drily. “Though blindness to it can be a problem as well. As for Tyra, she is a quick learner.”
“Good.” Sarah did not believe a word of it. “I will be receiving a new ‘mech when we reach Huntress, so when we arrive I will reassign this one to you. That will regularize your taking care of it until now.” And the ‘generosity’ would bolster her reputation, perhaps even encourage the other warriors to find useful work on the voyage.
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It must have been a bit of a shock to hear "Primus Wrong Way" on Tharkad... ;D
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Peter got a Hippogriff from Nanking
Much better than JagerMech he piloted OTL.
While FC is getting battered by continuous Clanner invasion they are in a much better position than the ravaged DC, where the usual bureaucratic friction and infighting seemed to have increased since the fall of Luthien. Victor is learning the basics of politics, so he won't be like a fish out of water when the time comes, Peter is in the fight and for now away from machinations of Ryan Steiner and Tormano Liao. St. Ives is now in somewhat stronger position, with Capellan Confederation weakened, however discord between Candace and Kai might give Sunny an opening in the future. What worries me is that Katherine might start building her power base for usurpation within Federated Suns, perhaps driving a wedge between James and Tancred Sandoval.
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Drakensis, did you ever give us stats on the Hippogriff? I see where you described it in the text, but couldn't find it in the design forum...
Playing around in SSW, I think I've gotten close, but I'm not sure what you intended to do instead of MGs...
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Drakensis, did you ever give us stats on the Hippogriff? I see where you described it in the text, but couldn't find it in the design forum...
Playing around in SSW, I think I've gotten close, but I'm not sure what you intended to do instead of MGs...
It's an informational on the SpaceBattles thread.
Here:https://forums.spacebattles.com/threads/opalescent-reflections.1081287/post-91891149 (https://forums.spacebattles.com/threads/opalescent-reflections.1081287/post-91891149).
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Thanks for the link! I had taken his initial description here to include the torso lasers.
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Opalescent Reflections
Stacking the Deck
Chapter 6
Hancock City, Abagnar
Diamond Shark Dominion
27 January 3054
Another world closer to New Samarkand - although Abagnar was of even less strategic value in and of itself than Qandahar. It did have a medical school, so it wasn’t worthless but there had been little glory here.
“I know there are worlds in the Inner Sphere that dwarf even the richest of our homeworlds,” Angus Labov observed as he sat across from Ace in what had once been the governor’s office. It had been his Twenty-First Assault Cluster that took the world off a mercenary garrison that had been outnumbered, outgunned… and outmaneuvered, which was positively embarrassing with their lighter and presumably more agile ‘mechs.
Ace chuckled. “But this is not one of them, quineg?”
“Neg.” The older officer shook his head. “And I have most of a trinary scattered across three other systems waiting for garrisons to catch up. If we’re ordered to New Samarkand now then we will be understrength.”
“Epsilon Galaxy has taken more worlds in the last year than Alpha Galaxy and Gamma Galaxy combined,” Ace countered. “There is an extent to which they are acting as a diversion for the DCMS while we conquer this region of space.”
“That is a nice turn of phrase,” Angus told him, “But it will be generations before these worlds become as prosperous as they should be. And since we will need to guard them the entire time, right now they are a drain on the Clan.”
Ace nodded. “Most investments are a drain… until they generate a return.”
His former commander chuckled. “Now that is an excellent point. You have learned a great deal since Strana Mechty.”
“I have.” He paused. “Then you were my commander. Now that has been reversed. Is that a problem, quineg?”
Labov sobered sharply. “Not at all. You have more than earned your rank while I was in retirement.” He paused. “Now, if I believe you are being truly stupid, I will challenge you…”
“That much is understood,” Ace agreed. “And I have no intention of refusing to hear advice from my officers.”
“I am glad to hear it.” The Star Colonel pushed his chair back and walked to the window. “The world will cost us more than garrison and administration.”
“Oh?”
“Jumpships,” Labov told him. “I have seen estimates of the number of jumpships the Draconis Combine has, and they have hundreds carrying commercial cargos. Had, rather. Many have been diverted to military purposes and the rest…”
“We captured some,” Ace noted. “But most will be operating below the truce line now.”
“Exactly. How can we replace them? We are already straining to maintain a line of supply back to the homeworlds and it has pulled us away from our usual routes there. One of the major challenges the merchant caste faces at home is that we can no longer reliably ship goods on our own vessels - and the fees from other Clans make us less competitive.” He snorted. “The Snow Ravens make no secret that they wish to dominate those shipping lanes, and there is no foreseeable chance of us returning jumpships to those routes.”
“How bad is it? We are gaining resources here in the Inner Sphere; but, from I what I understand, it will be years before the shipyards we’ve taken can replace that sort of loss in jumpships.”
“Right now a third of what we ship from the Inner Sphere is being sold off just to stabilize the position. The Burrock merchant jumpships help as well, but they didn’t have half as many ships as we did.”
Ace considered that and then shook his head. “And in the meantime, ComStar is probably stepping in more and more to fill the gaps.”
“Exactly! We have seized a huge empire, but running it?” The older man shook his head. “We have a very long way to go. Right now, this ComStar could seize us by the jugular. We can only hope that they do not realize it.”
“Have you raised this matter with the Khan and the merchant factors?” Ace asked, turning the matter over in his mind.
“Of course. They’re moving forward with trying to acquire jumpships from the cached vessels as well as all possible new production.”
“At more expense.”
Angus nodded. “Of course. And every world we add to our domain makes the problem bigger.”
“The only other option I can see is to invest in making worlds as self-sufficient as possible,” Ace concluded. “If there is less need for shipping then it will reduce the strain on the other jumpships.”
“That is another mammoth project,” Angus warned him. “And in the short term, it will put more strain on shipping.”
“We had better start as soon as we can then,” he replied sharply. “Will you help me write up a recommendation to the Clan Council?”
The Star Colonel rested his hand on the glass window. “The other issue is control. If the worlds are self-sufficient, they cannot easily be coerced economically. We could see local governments refusing to co-operate unless we have troops standing over them.”
“That is how House Kurita governed the Combine,” Ace observed.
“Do you think the people of these worlds will decide to obey us because we are… less dominating? If so, you show a remarkable lack of understanding of human nature.”
“Needs must,” he replied. “There are freeborn sibkos - here and in the homeworlds - that will graduate in two more years to deal with much of our manpower issues. Did you hear what happened to the Diamond Sharks that the scientist caste imported to Pesht?”
Angus frowned. “No, did I miss an announcement?”
“There was no announcement, but I have contacts.” He shook his head. “They’re not sure why yet, but they sickened. Half died, the others had to be moved to an aquarium.”
“How many people died doing that?”
“Fourteen laborers, all retired Elementals we could have done with.” Ace shook his head. “We need to adapt, Angus. Fretting about the Tokasha enclave does not help us.”
“Losing it did not help either. Well, it helped Clan Blood Spirit. That might be their largest territorial gain in a hundred years.”
“Ten years from now, that will not matter.”
“The Clan may not exist in ten years.”
Ace grinned. “Then it really will not matter. I agree that we do have to survive until our investment pays off. But we are on the clock. If we can bring the Draconis Combine to its knees then I doubt the other Successor Lords will come to their rescue. There is centuries of hatred between them, after all. Remove the outside threat and maybe… maybe we can deal with the internal issues.”
Angus shook his head in disagreement. “Except we are an outside threat to the Inner Sphere. The Federated Commonwealth are already fighting two Clans. Why should they see us as different from the Jade Falcons and Nova Cats?”
“Let us hope that we are different.” Ace felt weary at the idea. Thinking back to his youth, how much had he known of the differences between Kerensky’s Clans? “Khan Sennet believes that the worlds we take now will be all we can take for ten or twenty years, however long it takes us to integrate our holdings. It is why she wants to take as many worlds now, while we can.”
“Do you agree?” The older man walked back to the governor’s seat, leaning on it rather than sitting down.
“When it comes to the Combine, yes. They will try to drive us out of the Inner Sphere, that is not in doubt. Taking away resources that could fuel a counter offensive, and worlds for them to stage from makes sense.” He paused before admitting: “I did advise against going beyond that.”
“She wants to cross the truce line?” asked Angus in surprise. “That makes no sense!”
“Neg!” Ace exclaimed. “No, she is not as mad as Leo Showers. But we are closing on the borders of the Outworlds Alliance and around a third of their worlds are above the line.”
“I…” The Star Colonel froze and rested his weight on the chair. “I do not know much of them, other than that they were deceived by Amaris into fighting against Kerensky. Though… they drew the line at his murder of House Cameron.”
“I suggest you read up on that, it’s far more complicated than that,” he replied. “I cannot claim that I am an expert either, but they are no threat. Their government is almost crippled - imagine if every Khan in the Grand Council had a veto that could not be overturned by Trial of Refusal.”
“How would that work?!”
“For the most part? It does not. I do not understand it either, but it seems to be the truth.” Ace shook his head. “They do have a strong aerospace tradition, but that is defensive in nature - they cannot take ground and so far as I can tell, they have never tried to. Most of their worlds are as poor as this region and the only industry of note is below the truceline.”
Angus tilted his head. “Is she concerned that those worlds will be used to raid ours?”
“I think it is more that we can take them now and may not later. But it marks that our ambitions go beyond merely the Combine. We need time and striking at a periphery realm may lead to the Taurians and Canopians offering support to those who fight us.”
“They’re a long way off,” the older man said thoughtfully. “But perhaps no further than our own homeworlds. I think you are right, at least on that. Let me do some research of my own, but if your points hold up then will add my voice to yours when the council next meets.”
“On both ideas, quiaff?”
“Aff…” Angus agreed slowly. “But just my voice, you understand. Sennet is our Khan and we must remain united under her. If the Clan falls into division right now then the DCMS could push Alpha and Gamma back and cost us all the progress there.”
Ace gave him an amused look. “You think that we can avoid fighting those who still think it is the first days of Operation Revival, quineg?”
“...neg. But not now. Let us take New Samarkand and Galedon first. Then we can deal with the rest.”
Yamashiro, New Samarkand
Galedon Military District, Draconis Combine
3 February 3054
Yamashiro’s Cultural History Museum was in theory open to all visitors, at no charge, through the generosity of House Kurita.
In practice, that required visitors to have the time away from their work to go to the museum so six days a week it was mostly catering to school tours in the mornings and early afternoons, as well as a trickle of nobles. Late afternoons and evenings were reserved for formal and scheduled events taking place around the many mementos of the Combine’s long history and the rather smaller selection of artifacts of Terra’s imperial Japan.
For the casual scholar, it was an unparalleled look at three thousand years of history. For Minoru Kurita, leaning over a rail on one of the mezzanine levels, it was a bit more personal.
“Thinking of all this in the Clan’s hands…” he mused. “Even one dropship could take a huge number of the displays.”
Chandrasekhar Kurita stood behind him, hands buried in his broad sleeves. “While excuses could be made so that the population as a whole were unaware of why certain items were on display,” he began - nodding lightly towards the aerospace fighter hanging suspended above the museum floor, as it had since the death of their mutual ancestor Shiro Kurita, “There is insufficient shipping for everything that has been listed for evacuation. What would you wish to leave behind in place of the museum’s collection?”
“That’s the question isn’t it,” the Coordinator admitted. The loss of Luthien meant leaving a vast amount of House Kurita’s history in the hands of invaders who, even if they were not actively trying to erase it the way the Smoke Jaguars preferred, were unlikely to go out of their way to preserve it either. The Imperial City’s buildings alone required skilled craftsmen to maintain, and that was unlikely to be a priority to the Diamond Sharks.
And now New Samarkand, an even older home to his family, was going to be lost. An invasion force was inbound on Monywa, only one jump away from them, and the entire Simferopol to Ningxia jumpchain was in Clan hands. That meant that the Diamond Sharks had completely circled the Draconis Rift. From there they could potentially strike via Sanda or Murmansk to cut across and assault worlds between the capital and Galedon V.
“One of those dropships must carry you and your household, cousin,” Chandrasekhar counseled quietly. There was no one with them to overhear the intimate form of address - this wing had been reserved for Minoru’s visit, with guards at every conceivable entrance but privacy within.
“My father and grandfather didn’t leave Luthien,” he objected.
“No, but they sent you to preserve a line of succession.”
Minoru frowned and said nothing.
“I am aware,” the usually jolly industrialist added, with an attempt at his usual humor, “That the new palace on Irurzun will be more austere than the palace here, and I am not looking forward to living in that glorified bunker, but you have always been less concerned with creature comforts than I.”
“I have seen pictures of the new palace,” he retorted. “It is hardly a bunker.”
“Then why do you hesitate to leave?”
“Cowardice,” he answered, candidly. “That is what they whisper of me, uncle. That the new Coordinator does not dare fight the Clans as his family did. I am another Dainmar Liao in their eyes, hiding beneath the bed as enemy ‘mechs approach. If I leave now…”
Chandrasekhar moved up to stand near the railing. “Would you rather be another Maximilian Liao? Convinced beyond all reason that he can turn the tide, spending his last years pushing markers on a map that bears no relation to reality?”
“No. No, of course not.”
“I have been called craven more than once. Truthfully…” his cousin trailed off. “I have never put it to the test. Except facing your grandfather in the courts, which I think would set any sane man’s knees to trembling. It is fortunate that my robes hid that shame from public. But one gets used to the slings and arrows of gossip.”
“A coordinator seen as weak may not be the coordinator for very long,” Minoru countered. “I am not talking about going out and leading a lance or even a company if I was feeling especially proud of my training, but if I withdraw before the Sharks even threaten to land on New Samarkand, that will fuel those rumors.”
Chandrasekhar sighed. “Those who believe such things will say just the same if you withdraw with the rearguard when New Samarkand falls - unless you believe that your presence will turn the tide?”
Minoru shook his head morosely. The loss numbers of the DCMS made the price being paid for the time to evacuate people and equipment from New Samarkand frighteningly clear. Most of the regiments on the frontlines were made up now of hardened veterans, but few were above half strength.
“And if you wind up dying - say that your dropship is intercepted, though there are many other things that could go wrong.” The older Kurita shook his head. “What happens then? Unless you have managed to keep a wife and child secret from me…” He removed one hand from his sleeve and wagged his finger chastisingly. “In which case I will be most wroth! Where was I?”
Knowing very well that his uncle was merely feigning being derailed, Minoru nonetheless bit the bait. “My own hypothetical death.”
“Yes! We have no clear heir. If you die I might be treated as a candidate and we all know what a disaster that would be. You have the trust of the remaining warlords, because they know you will show wisdom - wisdom far beyond your years. We can find any number of courageous young officers, but how many can fill the role that your titles call for.”
He gave his cousin a quizzical look.
“Coordinator - the one who coordinates the efforts of the disparate agencies of our state. Unifier of Worlds, need I say more?” Chandresakhar slipped his hand back into his sleeve. “We need you to survive, because without the realm will be torn apart… and without a unified Combine, our enemies will consume us.”
Minoru sighed heavily. “You are right.” Even if the Sharks respected the truceline, which oddly he thought that they might, Hanse Davion would surely declare Omi as the new Coordinator and send troops to enforce her claim, whatever she wanted.
“A most obnoxious habit of mine,” his cousin admitted. “I sincerely apologize.”
He sighed again, though for a different reason. “Very well. I will arrange to depart before the end of the month. Subhash suggested that a double continue to carry out court rituals for a week or two in my place, to confuse anyone trying to intercept me.”
“A wise choice. I believe the ‘pitch’ that he has given to the Voice of the Dragon is that you will be portrayed as being too cunning for the Sharks to capture.”
Minoru shook his head. “What does that say about my father and grandfather.”
“If either of them had been willing to back down and be the one sent to set up a new capital here, then you would not need to carry this burden,” Chandrasekhar pointed out sharply. “It is important that a prince blood himself in war, and I acknowledge that you have not had the chance. But as ruler, your job is to direct those who do the fighting.” He nodded towards the Sabre suspended in the air in front of them. “Shiro Kurita created the post of Gunji no Kanrei so that his brother Urizen could lead their soldiers, while he ruled their realm. There is no shame in emulating that partnership.”
After a moment of contemplation, Minoru turned and began to walk along the gallery, looking at walls that bore oil paintings and traditional inkings alike. He would probably never see them again. His cousin walked behind him, surprisingly quietly for such a large man.
“There is one historical artifact we may wish to consider the disposition of,” Chandrasekhar observed as they passed the glass cabinet containing the tea set another Minoru Kurita had been carrying when he was shot.
“Oh?”
The industrialist cleared his throat. “Not an artifact, precisely. There is a certain corpse buried in the cemetery of the University of New Samarkand.”
The coordinator thought for a moment, trying to think which member of his dynasty had been buried at the university, and then realized that it wasn’t one of his relatives at all. “Amaris?”
“Indeed. General Kerensky did entrust the university with the body, after all.”
“As I recall, he left the body in a cryogenic pod that we proved unable to maintain,” Minoru noted. “It could be argued that we neglected that responsibility.” He shook his head. “No, if we are leaving behind the pieces of art displayed here, whatever may remain of the Usurper is not being taken either. Tell the university that when the Diamond Sharks land, they are to be informed where they can find the body. If they want it back, they can have it. I will not see a single life lost defending the corpse of Stefan Amaris. If they are unhappy about the condition, that is their fault for not coming back sooner.”
Nadir Jump Point, Inarcs
Periphery March, Federated Commonwealth
18 March 3054
“You know,” Horse observed as the Jean Bart began the final count-down to jump. “There is one experienced Star Captain you could request to fill the gap.”
“Oh?” Aidan was glad his old friend was back, since casualties among the touman were beginning to wear down the available officers. Star Captain Taman had stepped up ably in Horse’s absence, but two other officers had been lost - one to a AFFC minefield and a second had been offered promotion to take over a garrison cluster when the previous Star Colonel lost a trial of grievance.
His oldest friend nodded. “Adler Malthus got replaced with the Falcon Guards - he needs two cloned legs after they got ambushed on Atocongo. Apparently his replacement…”
“Collin Buhallin?”
“Aff, that is him. He brought in two of his officers from the Eyrie Cluster and an entire Star of green warriors. Would you care to guess who he replaced?”
Given that there was only one officer in the Falcon Guards that they both knew… “He reassigned Joanna?”
“Aff. There was a trial of refusal, of course.”
“I feel almost bad for her.” Aidan admitted. “Not that I like her, but to be told she was too old.”
“From what I hear, it was more how she handled the after action review Buhallin carried out when he arrived. He was not even criticizing her specifically.”
“Ah. Well, that makes me feel better about her fate. Why are you suggesting I request her?”
Horse chuckled. “Well, if you do not then she will probably be sent to the Jade Falcon Eyrie Cluster, and you know what she was like as a Falconer. It would spare the warriors of the Cluster from that.”
Aidan rubbed his chin. “You make a good point.”
“Wait, I was jok-” Horse’s eyes went wide in alarm, right as the count-down hit zero.
Jumping always left sensors confused for a moment, which seemed fair to Aidan. He didn’t suffer Transit Disorientation Syndrome - it had been almost entirely eliminated from the Clan’s breeding programme, and exceptions were always washed out of Clan Jade Falcon’s sibkos - but, like most people, he did find that jumps left him briefly dizzy. Since the electronics recovered before most operators were able to fully focus on the results, that was good enough.
The shout of “Great Father!” drew attention from everyone on the bridge and cut off Horse’s “-king!”
Star Captain Albert - an aerospace pilot who had suffered an in-ear injury that demoted him from flight status - snapped “Put it in the main tank!” without trying to look over the technician’s shoulder, and slammed a switch on his console.
An alarm rang, alerting everyone on the Jean Bart and her attached dropships to stand ready for combat.
Horse, who had been halfway to unstrapping himself from the jumpseat, swore and began tightening them again. “Just talking about the woman is bad luck.”
The holotank rebooted and Aidan recognised it as a battlespace display, the Jean Bart and her attached dropship, and then the space around it.
The icon that appeared almost on top of the jumpship was inside the sphere that designated the ‘danger zone’ for jumping out - not that the Jean Bart’s drive was ready to do so. Close enough that there was a realistic risk that the other vessel must have been struck by the electromagnetic wave of the arrival.
“Did we just hit someone?” Horse asked.
“I do not think so, but they are probably not happy about our proximity.” Aidan wasn’t sure who the vessel was, the icon had no identification codes showing and the computers were still splicing the data from the sensors together to fill that gap. “Star Captain Albert, what is the situation?”
The little man twisted around, lips curled into a snarl. “Star Colonel, I am ordering your aerospace fighter pilots to launch.”
Aidan grabbed the comm unit on the side of his seat and punched the code that would patch him through to both his dropships. “Foxtrot, Foxtrot. Scramble, scramble. Jean Bart has command. I repeat: Foxtrot, Scramble, Jean Bart has command.”
“Thank you, Star Colonel Pryde.” Albert replied gratefully.
“What are we dealing with?” Horse asked.
“Either we have run into another Clan or the Inner Sphere had acquired a battleship.”
I am unsure what would be worse, Aidan thought. “Communications?” If it was another Clan, they should at least try to talk.
“Our arrival will have disrupted their systems,” Albert informed him as new markers, the familiar markers of aerospace fighters, appeared around the Jean Bart. At almost the same time, similar markers appeared around the battleship. “We are trying.”
Horse grimaced. “And if they are hostile?”
“Sir, it is a Nightlord-class vessel,” one of the techs confirmed.
“One salvo would kill us,” Albert informed him matter-of-factly. “The design is post-Exodus, I do not see how the Inner Sphere would have one.”
One less concern. Of course, another Clan could be just as unfriendly…
The communications tech grabbed her headset. “Reply from the ship. Identification is CSV Dark Asp. K-khan Perigard Zalman demands to speak to our commanding officer.”
“I will take that,” Aidan said quickly, before Albert could even ask. That was, after all, the price of his rank. Steel Vipers, though. What in the hells he had read of were they doing in the Inner Sphere? After the defeat on Camlann they had no territory in the Inner Sphere. So far as he knew, they had returned to the homeworlds.
Except, apparently, they had departed only to return.
His handset pinged to mark the connection. “Who is this?” a voice demanded.
“Star Colonel Aidan Pryde. Of the -”
“Gyrfalcon Guards,” the man recognised him immediately. “If you have not been informed, I am Khan Perigard Zalman. Your jumpship has poor timing.”
“Or very good timing. We both survived what could have been a very unpleasant accident.”
“That,” the Khan retorted, “Remains to be seen. Why have you come to my Clan’s territory?”
“Our last information was that Inarcs was in the hands of the Federated Commonwealth,” Aidan replied. “There is, of course, no requirement that one Clan inform the others of their acquisitions. I was unaware that you had taken possession of the world.” And the battlemech factory, one of the newest in the Inner Sphere. A prize that could build Star League era war machines.
“Now you know.”
“It is unfortunate that I did not arrive in time to bid against you.” And after he’d extorted the concession from the Nova Cats into not contesting the Jade Falcon’s making the first bid for the world.
Zalman made a noise that was either a snort or a chuckle. “Yes, that would have been interesting. Do you wish now to claim possession of the world from us?”
Aidan considered his orders. “It is my Khan’s orders, that the Federated Commonwealth has sufficient worlds for all of the Clans. So long as no Clan contests the worlds that we control, we will extend the same respect to them.”
“What pretty words.”
“If I may, Khan Zalman, I believed that your Clan had returned to the Homeworlds after Camlann. Obviously I was mistaken, quiaff?”
The Khan chuckled. “Aff. Once Operation Revival ended, we were bound not to attack worlds beyond the truce line. Worlds above it were not excluded. We lacked only a base of operations.in the Inner Sphere and supply lines.”
If they had taken worlds within the Inner Sphere, at least until recently, the Watch would have found out. Kael Pershaw was not careless about such matters. That meant that their base was in the Periphery. “You destroyed one of the local bandit groups and seized their base?”
“Bases, rather. For your own accounting, the group was led by a ‘King’ who called himself Hopper Morrison. It seems unlikely that there will be further raids by his followers. We were quite thorough. There was even a bounty, the Precentor here has agreed to pay it to us. I am not sure I like the precedent, but it is not as if anyone else can claim their money for the deed.”
Aidan smiled at the thought. “If nothing else, taking the reward will let you pay for ComStar’s services.”
“There is that.”
“I hope you have no objections to my using their local station to inform my superiors of your presence?”
“By the decision of the Grand Council, ComStar are free to do business with any member of any Clan who can pay them,” the Khan replied. “We have not advertised our presence, but nor do we hide it. But once you charge your drives, be so good as to move on. We are establishing our headquarters on this world and there will be heavy jumpship traffic.”
He frowned. “Since you are being open about the matter, how heavy will this traffic be?”
“Eight galaxies, Star Colonel. We are taking this very seriously. Leave promptly. I would prefer no further accidents.”
“As you say, Khan Zalman. Let us have no accidents.”
The channel cut out abruptly and Aidan shook his head. “So. We have another Clan here. That could be very good for us… or very bad.”
“Either way, it hurts the Federated Commonwealth,” Horse observed. “And they do not appear to be running short of soldiers to throw into our path.”
“Aff…. but that does leave us with a snake in our boot, so to speak.”
Albert straightened, but did not take his eyes off the icons marking the two forces of aerospace fighters that were dancing between the two vessels. They were not in weapons range of each other but not one of the dozens of fighters was lowering their guard. “Eight galaxies is a lot of force. Too much to ignore.”
“On that, we agree.” Aidan looked over at the comms tech. “Get in touch with the local HPG, tell them we have a priority transmission to Elias Crichell, on Twycross.”
“Yes sir.” She turned to her console and started working.
“Telling the Khan about this?” asked Horse.
Aidan nodded. “And putting in a personnel request.”
“A… wait, you are serious? No, this a joke! Quiaff?”
He shook his head, amused at Horse’s horrified face. “Neg. We need every warrior we can get. And we need them motivated. You know Joanna. She will scream at them, berate them, belittle them… and our warriors will fight like demons to prove her wrong. We need that.”
“She will refuse,” Horse said desperately.
“Will she?”
“No. Damn you, no.” He shook his head. “She will accept. And you, you will be the death of me, Aidan.”
Aidan chuckled. “Yes, she will. And… well, I cannot promise anyone eternal life, Horse. We are warriors and neither of us will live forever. You knew that when you accepted a place in the warrior caste.”
“You are different,” Horse observed. “Something happened while I was away.”
Aidan nodded, considered telling him and then shook his head. “Ask me another time.”
“Sir?” the comm tech asked. “I have contact with the local ComStar Precentor. She wants to know who will pay for the priority. It is… not covered by our plan?”
Horse and Aidan exchanged looks. “I think the word for our Khan is… cheap,” the freeborn observed.
“Give her my name,” Aidan told the tech. “They will know that I am good for it.” He’d established an account when he first made arrangements with ComStar, back when he was still a garrison commander. It was, to use a phrase he had found in his small secret personal library, ‘something for a rainy day’. And right at the moment, he was feeling very rained upon.
-
Eight galaxies of Steel Wipers are a very bad news for FedCom, they had a chance of gradually bogging down Falcons and Cats, but now their chances on the front are not as bad as Dracs, but close.
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Eight galaxies of Steel Wipers are a very bad news for FedCom, they had a chance of gradually bogging down Falcons and Cats, but now their chances on the front are not as bad as Dracs, but close.
Well, their best chance might be to focus on commerce and naval warfare. Burn the Nightlord down with LCS Invincible and fighter wings, bring in the assault dropships, and start trialing the Vipers for every jumpship that moves.
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Well, their best chance might be to focus on commerce and naval warfare. Burn the Nightlord down with LCS Invincible and fighter wings, bring in the assault dropships, and start trialing the Vipers for every jumpship that moves.
Sadly this isn't the Ngoverse, so commerce and naval warfare is a non-factor here, sadly. The FedCom navy don't have the doctrine for it, nor the resources whatever aerospace wings are left are going to be at the truce line.
I just like to here one throw away line about Kowloon in this story still, probably not even a speed bump for either the Falcons or Nova Cats, instead of the usual sticking your d*** in a blender trying to invade Kowloon.
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The Inner Sphere is much less shy about nukes than the clanners...
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Opalescent Reflections
Stacking the Deck
Chapter 7
Hilton Head, North America
Terra, Sol System
25 April 3054
Wei felt a little wistful as she watched Morgan Hasek-Davion confirm with his staff that they had dealt with all the points of concerns in the debates. There was no denying that the AFFC’s Marshal of Armies was very handsome, and it was extremely unfortunate that he was apparently sincere in his claims of monogamy and besides that he wasn’t on Terra where Wei could try to convince the Marshal and his wife of that practice’s obvious flaws.
Alas, that was not to be and she tried to hide that regret as Hasek-Davion turned back towards the holo-cameras at his headquarters on Tharkad. “Primus, Precentor Martial,” he said courteously. “My staff confirm their satisfaction that all of our concerns regarding the agreement have been addressed. May I ask if the same is true for your part?”
Precentor Martial Anastasius Focht nodded crisply and Wei smiled slightly. “I am pleased to confirm that we are indeed satisfied, Marshal Hasek-Davion.”
In the final act of the negotiations, Precentor Joe Murphy entered view on the far side of the live HPG connection to sign the physical copy of the agreement on Tharkad along with the Marshal. On Terra, Marshal Grissom Miller of the AFFC’s Department of Mercenary Relations, was admitted to the room to sign their copies alongside Wei.
Miller’s long term presence on Terra, as an unofficial member of the Mercenary Review Board alongside a representative of the Combine was one more irritant for Wei. Alas, he wasn’t as handsome as his superior and frankly, his manner grated on Wei. He saluted Hasek-Davion’s image crisply on the holographic display, before addressing the same gesture to Wei and Focht - eyes narrowed perceptibly and nostrils flared slightly.
“Thank you, Primus.” Hasek-Davion rose to his feet and placed one hand over his heart before bowing deeply to her. “The Federated Commonwealth is deeply grateful for your Order’s willingness to work with us in our common interests.”
“Blake’s Blessing upon you and all those who are under your command,” Wei replied, standing and placing her hands together in prayer. “Perhaps one day, we will enjoy the peace hoped for by Jerome Blake and, more recently, by Katrina Steiner in her noble peace proposal.”
The Marshal of Armies’ lips quirked upwards in a warm smile. “That would be a joyous day,” he agreed.
And then his image winked out, as Wei’s own most likely should on Tharkad. She refrained from relaxing right away, in case the timing was off.
“I will be available to coordinate movements of your forces,” Marshal Miller informed Focht before he made his own departure.
Satisfied that they were now alone, she looked at Focht. “Can you work with that man?”
“Miller or Hasek-Davion?” the Precentor Martial asked and then shook his head. “No, I know who you mean. Yes, I can handle Miller.”
“It’s obvious I dislike him?”
The white-haired officer smiled thinly. “You’ve never once even hinted at trying to seduce him. That doesn’t make him unique, but it stands out.”
“And here I thought I was keeping a veneer of courtesy.”
“You were,” Focht assured her. “But not to those who know you.”
Wei turned and walked to the wall. “Am I being unfair to him?”
“It is always hard to like someone who dislikes you,” Focht assured her. “Miller is good at his job, he gets on well with mercenaries because he deals in what they want, for the most part. Money, and respect. What he’s uncomfortable with is those who are more interested in those…”
“Now, hold on, Nasty. I’m not uninterested in either of those,” she protested.
Focht’s eye twinkled. “Perhaps not, but in his eyes you’re a Blakist and a Hedonist, first and foremost.” He paused. “And of course, that wouldn’t offend him half as much if you weren’t also very much his type when it comes to your looks.”
“And how do you know that?!” she protested.
“I had some knowledge of him from my misspent youth,” he said. “Though I am sure he does not remember me. He is good at his job, Primus. Just leave him to me.”
Wei looked at him and then decided not to press the matter harder. “We are spreading the ComGuards very thin.”
“It’s only one brigade,” Focht reassured her. “And we do not need as many forces on the St Ives-Capellan border now.”
The Seventy-Second Brigade of the ComGuards had been reconstituted recently using veterans from Camlann - along with equipment painstakingly pieced back together from salvage. What made it different from the other units was that each of its current four Level III units was configured to mirror a Clan Cluster, and used equipment to match. They made a fantastic training tool, and for the next two years they would be roving the Federated Commonwealth’s border with the Free Worlds League, facing off against newly formed AFFC units in training exercises that would hopefully benefit both armed forces.
“Thomas Marik has already managed to get wind of the matter,” Wei informed him. “He was quite polite, but he is asking for the same courtesy…”
Focht nodded gravely. “Well, we have already committed to ‘Invader Galaxy’ assisting the AFFC and he is not facing the Clans at the moment, so what is he offering?” The AFFC had agreed to share research data to help the ComGuards maintain their salvaged Clan equipment - and of course, that would help both the Order and the Federated Commonwealth move towards eventually being able to construct equivalent technology at a cost that wasn’t ruinous.
Wei exhaled slowly. “Reading between the lines… I believe he has found Jardine.”
“...the last of those hidden worlds?”
She nodded. “I hope to Blake that this really is the last. I suppose it makes sense that he would have a lead on its location.”
“I had wondered why there had been one in every Successor State except the League… allowing for later border changes,” the Precentor Martial admitted. “So this one was inside the Free Worlds League.”
“He has also been there before,” Wei said delicately. She wasn’t going to outright say what they both knew about Thomas Marik - currently a very discreetly held prisoner - and about the man who had been put in his place twenty years ago as the Captain-General of the Free Worlds League. “Jardine is where he received medical treatment after the bomb that killed Janos and Duggan Marik. It was primarily working on cybernetics, for reconstructive and augmentation purposes.”
“The first would come in very handy,” Focht acknowledged. “The latter… I care very little about. I take it that this will need to be discussed in person?”
Wei nodded. “That is always the most secure way to carry out such negotiations.”
“If you break the agreement we just made, it will be very damaging to your credibility.”
“Yes, and hopefully Marik will understand that there are things I cannot reasonably offer.” She shook her head, irritated. “Ideally, he agrees to share the data under the same joint medical programmes that are treating his son. It can always be claimed that his people found an old SLDF research station.”
Focht raked his hair back from his shoulders. “We can probably scrape together a fifth cluster for Invader Galaxy and assign it to work with the FWLM, mirroring his arrangement. It wouldn’t perform at close to Clan capabilities in real combat, but for training exercises where the shots are mostly simulated, it could serve.”
“I recall you mentioning that as a possibility,” she agreed. “He can’t be that worried about us training units along his border, they’re replacing troops that will be sent to fight the Clans.”
“To an extent,” Focht allowed. “However, I suspect that it is more likely that the new units will be sent to fight once they are up to strength. Hanse Davion is not going to bleed out all his best soldiers on the frontlines, leaving the AFFC without a solid core in the event of war on another front. You may have missed some of the implications of the designations of some of the new units.”
Wei arched an eyebrow. “I’m afraid not. I believe most of them are units lost in the Clan Invasion?”
“Seven of the ten,” he agreed. “Most significantly, Archon Steiner authorized the reformation of the Eighth and the Twenty-Fourth Arcturan Guards. By tradition, the Arcturan Guards draw at least a quarter of their personnel from Arcturus, something the LCAF was struggling with even before the end of the Succession Wars. Raising two RCTs of the Arcturan Guards when the world is under the rule of the Clans would be almost impossible unless…”
“Unless there was an implicit promise to reclaim the world,” Wei realized.
“Exactly. I am not saying that there is a plan for an immediate counter-offensive, but I think we can safely say that Morgan Hasek-Davion wants the units trained in fighting the Clans because the Archon and First Prince are making realistic plans to take the war back to the Clans.”
“Do you think that is achievable?”
Focht shook his head. “Not at the current time. But every battle fought, is teaching them more and more about the Clans. Without the Steel Vipers return to the Inner Sphere, I would have doubted that the Nova Cats and Jade Falcons could take every world above the truce line. If the truce holds to its full extent, then barring disaster the AFFC will be largely equipped to SLDF standards, which doesn’t entirely close the technological gap… and the general trend at the moment is that the Clans are winning less often and much less decisively than they did initially.”
“And if the truce fails,” Wei asked, worriedly.
“There are too many variables,” he admitted. “Would other Clans commit to the fighting? How deep are their actual reserves of equipment, as opposed to what they brought with them. Would the AFFC be fighting alone or with allies?” He shrugged.
If they break the truce, then our enclaves are also open to attack, Wei thought. I would have little choice but to commit the ComGuards.
“I’ll set up a formal visit to Atreus,” she decided. “Later this year, we can find an excuse. I think the Captain-General will accept delaying any serious discussions until then.”
“What if he makes… unreasonable demands?”
Wei made a helpless face. “I don’t suppose that taking full responsibility and resigning would earn me assignment as Precentor for Bangkok, would it?”
“Bangkok doesn’t have an HPG,” he pointed out.
“One minor flaw in an otherwise brilliant plan.”
Dali, Tamar
Clan Wolf Occupation Zone
30 May 3054
The chamber used for Clan Council meetings had served as some kind of chapel. Ulric had not enquired as to the specifics. It was a suitably impressive chamber, once Clan Wolf’s banners were hung in place of the original decorations. The candles had also been removed as the electric lights were perfectly sufficient and the smoke from them occasionally interfered with the holographic transmitters.
Once the holographic representations winked out, there was an immediately visible shift in the politics of the seating. The Wardens had congregated in the leftmost seats - on Ulric’s right, since the two Khans and the loremaster sat facing the seating. The Crusaders sat to the right, with the moderates of both faction congregating in the center with the handful of neutrals, both sides doing their best to cushion the extremes.
With the bloodnamed still in the homeworlds gone, the more extreme warden ranks were almost depopulated, Phela and a few dozen warriors quietly filing up one aisle to take their leave. Opposite, them the younger Crusaders were still there in force, sufficient of them that they were still filtering out when the loremaster took his leave, Dalk Carns rather pointedly picking their aisle and approaching a pair of young warriors to walk out with.
Natasha exhaled slowly as she watched them. “There goes trouble.”
Ulric glanced over at her. “We agree on that.”
His saKhan indicated one of the side doors. “No use sitting here like dummies, I have some beer in the backroom to take the taste of politics out of my mouth.”
“I have people to talk to.”
“There’s Timbiqui Dark,” the redhead offered, “I know you can’t say no to that.”
The Khan paused. The woman’s tone was… unusual. Not uncertain, Natasha was never that. But… uncomfortable?
Well, she was not one to ambush him. “You know me well,” he lied and gestured for her to lead the way.
Through the door, he found a small lounge that he hadn’t even known existed, wiring from the holo system neatly secured against one wall. Low padded seats ringed the room and Natasha used one foot to nudge a small crate out from under one. It was full of half-melted ice with bottlenecks rising out of it.
“You could not find a fridge?” Ulric asked, amused, as he took a seat next to her.
“The way they have this corner of the palace wired up for the holo projectors, I don’t dare plug in anything else, I could end up overloading something.” She worked the lid off one of the bottles and passed it to him.
Ulric checked the label and found it was the promised brand. As Natasha uncapped her own bottle, he raised his. “To what shall we drink?”
“Cyrilla Ward,” Natasha clinked her bottle against his and they both drank deeply.
“Hell of a way to go,” the Black Widow said, a little mournfully. “We always said we’d go out together, fighting the Smoke Jaguars. I guess the Steel Vipers are almost as good.”
With the news of the Steel Vipers throwing the bulk of their forces into the Inner Sphere, a hasty alliance of Wolf, Coyote and Goliath Scorpions had launched a flurry of attacks on the Steel Viper holdings on Homer. The enclaves captured had been divided up between the three Clans, but they had not been won without cost and Cyrilla Ward’s life had been one of those prices - a particularly high arching salvo of LRMs from a new Phoenix Hawk variant had clustered damage around her cockpit with one missile penetrating to explode inside.
“She has left a great legacy for Clan Wolf,” he agreed.
Natasha slammed the base of her bottle against the arm of the chair - fortunately the padding absorbed much of the impact and the bottle didn’t break. “A legacy that little turd carried right over to Radick’s little pack of hotheads!”
“Vlad, quiaff?” Ulric sat back in his chair and took another gulp from the bottle.
“Aff. It grinds my gears to see him pissing all over her beliefs. He claimed her bloodright, I hate to think what she would have to say about him pushing for us to renounce the truce. He is even pushing to take leadership within the bloodhouse, and using her reputation as a stepping stone.”
“I doubt he will manage that, not quickly at least.” Ulric examined his beer. He was going to need more than what was left of this bottle if Natasha was going to use him as an ear for her venting. “Cyrilla made it clear that Phelan was the one she saw as a future leader of the Bloodhouse, even if he is not ready for it yet.” He drained the bottle. “And she respected Vlad’s abilities. It is not like Conal Ward - can you imagine what he would feel about his bloodright being carried by a warrior from the Inner Sphere.”
That got a startled laugh from Natasha. “There is that. If there is an afterlife, Cyrilla must be laughing at him.”
“If there is, then perhaps you will fight alongside her again one day.” He shrugged. “As for renouncing the truce, any Clan doing so alone would destroyed. There is a reason Showers is trying to build support rather than hurling his Clan towards Terra.”
The Black Widow snorted and passed him another bottle, cold and wet from the ice. “Cyrilla sent me a message before she went to war. Maybe she thought she wouldn’t be able to send another, it had that tone to it, you know?”
Having read the final messages of warriors who decided to end their lives on their own terms more than once, Ulric could only nod.
“She said we should talk. Which,” Natasha waved her bottle around to signal her confusion, “I had thought that we were. But apparently not in her eyes, and I trusted ‘Rilla.” She leant back, twisting into the corner of her seat to look at him as she drained what was left of her beer.
Ulric had to hide a shiver at the sight of those predatory eyes locking onto him. Natasha had been a legend for her lethality among the Clans before she joined the Dragoons, And fifty years later, she was perhaps even more deadly. Allegedly she had only been defeated once in all that time. “I had spoken to her, for advice.”
“And? This was my sibkin’s last request, do not make me kick it out of you, Ulric.” She crossed her legs provocatively.
He popped the cap off the bottle and decided it was better to approach the matter directly. “Erik and your conversations with him. You had told me you were a Warden, but your words since you became saKhan have been more those of a Crusader.”
“The hell, Ulric?!” Natasha jerked forwards. “Is that what you think of me?”
He raised his beer for a moment. “Cyrilla.”
The Black Widow glared at him for using the ghost of her sibkin as a shield but she recovered another bottle and clinked it somewhat petulantly against his.
“You have been talking about involving ourselves further in the worlds of our corridor,” the Khan pointed out. “And of adding worlds to it. I know you are not a politician, perhaps that is not what you intended to say, but these sound like the agenda of - oh, not of the firebrands who still think we can reach Terra, but at least of the more practical of the Crusader.”
“Like your sibkin, Erik?”
“Aff. Like Erik.”
Natasha gulped from the neck of her beer. “Alright.” She rested her elbows on her knees. “Something that Enders kid said rang true.”
He knew it! This was all that damned Diamond Shark’s fault! He wasn’t just lethal with a PPC, he must have a silver tongue! “What did he say?”
“He claimed that the entire issue of Warden versus Crusader was obsolete.”
Ulric tilted his head slightly to one side.
Accepting the invitation to continue, Natasha met his eyes. “When the invasion vote went through, the Wardens lost. We can’t un-invade the Inner Sphere. Even if we left entirely, they know we exist now.”
He nodded. Some of the more extreme Wardens would disagree with that, but he had to admit that some of his supporters were as blind to practical reality as Radick’s clique were.
“And Camlann killed the Crusader’s dream, even if they don’t want to admit it. Maybe,” she paused. “Maybe we could take Terra now. But you can see for yourself how much more resistance the Feddies and the Snakes are putting up after just a few years. But supposing we took Terra, do you think they would just surrender?”
“Neg.” Ulric chuckled. “And Terra would not fall easily. We have no idea how heavy the defenses are. It is possible that Primus Rong has restored them to the same level our ancestors faced.”
“Yeah, that hot piece of ass knows she’s in their crosshairs.”
“How disrespectful of you, Natasha.” He extended his bottle and she clinked it against his in a third toast, not to their dead friend now.
“I call it like I see it,” the Black Widow said unrepentantly. “And that ass is almost as nice as mine.”
“I see your narcissism is unchecked. So, you say the Wardens and Crusaders are… obsolete?”
“Chasing dogs that already got away. So the question is, what is the issue we’re dealing with now?” She sipped from her beer. “And it’s these worlds, how we handle them.”
“Alright. Tell me how you see it.” How Erik sees it.
“I got a lot of this from Erik, set him straight on a few points though,” Natasha said directly. “I’ve lived in the Inner Sphere, and he figured I’d have a better handle on how they thought than he did.”
“He is not a fool, for all we disagree on.”
That got him a nod of agreement. “Some of the Clans don’t have worlds here in the Inner Sphere. And sooner or later that’s going to turn into a staggering gap between their resources and those of us who do. More planets, more people… even if they aren’t as efficient at turning out war material, we could probably support a Cluster for every planet in the corridor, am I wrong?”
Ulric frowned. “Some of the worlds are not that wealthy, but on average…” Tamar had a population greater than all of Clan Wolf’s holdings in the homeworlds, and it was just one world. Repair the damage done by generations of raiding, establish factories fed by mines on neighboring systems… It could fuel a huge touman, one that could inflict terrible damage in the wrong hands. “Neg, you are not wrong.”
“Easier said than done,” Natasha allowed. “And most of the people here aren’t clansmen. They didn’t grow up in castes and the idea isn’t even the one that’s going to be hardest for them to adjust to, if they have to live under Clan Law.”
“Oh? What would you say is the hardest?” he enquired.
She grinned. “There is a wailing noise from the banks about the idea that work credits expire if they aren’t spent. You have no idea how much the idea of savings matters to the Inner Sphere economy. The other division we’re seeing develop is in how the Clans integrate the worlds here. Take the Smoke Jaguars at one end of the scale…”
Ulric winced.
“Hammer the round pegs into the square hole, and if that doesn’t work, hammer harder.”
“I sincerely do not think so poorly of you or Erik to imagine that you are advocating that.” He really hoped that they weren’t.
Natasha sneered. “No, but somewhere under that flailing they do have a distant awareness of how much it matters. Why do you think that the Steel Vipers came back to rejoin the invasion?”
The question may have been intended rhetorically, but Ulric answered anyway. “By your logic, because they think that without Inner Sphere worlds, they will become irrelevant.”
That got him a nod of agreement. “A Clan that doesn’t have a presence in the Inner Sphere risks becoming as relevant as a Fire Mandrill kindraa - Erik’s words, not mine.”
He chuckled, there was a certain amusement to the idea. Clan Fire Mandrill had been described (also by his sibkin) as ‘seven dwarf Clans trying to wear a giant’s coat’. The Kindraa, clusters of affiliated bloodhouses, functioned with near total autonomy under the general banner of the Fire Mandrills and with a resulting lack of cohesion that kept the Clan among the weakest of Kerensky’s children. It was widely agreed that the only reason they hadn’t been absorbed by another Clan was that no one wanted them.
“The other end of the scale is what we are doing,” Natasha told him. “And while I get that we don’t want to be like the Smoke Jaguars, the problem is that a Clan that doesn’t use their worlds is as badly off as one that doesn’t have one. That’s what Erik is worried about, Ulric. That if we stay hands off that the Wolves will be as irrelevant as the Clans back home.”
It was like a cup of cold water splashed across Ulric’s face.
“We have a potentially winning hand of cards - ninety-nine worlds, in one of the most densely packed regions of the Inner Sphere, not spread out around a stellar rift like the Diamond Sharks. One of the most wartorn regions too, and their united government was less than twenty years old, it didn’t have the depth of loyalty that a core region of a Successor State would have.” Natasha finished her beer and tossed it up in the air, catching it before it could hit the ground. “And you’re throwing that away.”
“And what is your solution?” he asked quietly. Intently. “Not to become the Smoke Jaguars.”
“Not even becoming the Diamond Sharks, although they might have a better chance than most of the other Clans,” Natasha told him. “Something more like what the Ghost Bears are doing: seed enclaves of our civilians on their worlds. Our people live under Clan laws and we welcome those who choose to do likewise - make those enclaves beacons of prosperity that the rest of the planet will want to emulate.”
“Most will not, Natasha. They are too invested in their own ways.” The idea wasn’t entirely pointless, but it would require moving huge numbers of Clan civilians to the Inner Sphere.
“Even if only one in a hundred does, it will be hundreds of millions of people,” she pointed out. “As to the rest, they become a protectorate. We take on all the duties of the Republic’s government, including keeping the peace, and most importantly: we protect them. We do what the Kungsarme could not. Twelve years from now, when the truce comes to an end, we’ll have ruled them almost as long as the Free Rasalhague Republic had. We’ll be the new normal, living alongside them. And what can the Combine or even the Commonwealth offer them that will be worth the upheaval of another war?”
Ulric stroked his beard. “How much of this did you come up with, Natasha?”
“Not much,” she admitted. “No one thinks I am a great political thinker, not even me. But I found someone who was and we bounced ideas off each other. My main contribution was Rasalhague - freeing them would be a great gesture, Erik thinks. And we could do it.”
“Why did you not come to me?”
“I tried!” she snapped, eyes fiery. “But you didn’t listen to dumb ol’ Natasha, the weapon you wanted to wave at the Crusaders! Do you think I don’t know what you think of me?”
“I have never thought you a fool, Natasha,” Ulric assured her. “But nor will I say you do not have a point. You were not expressing these points at the time… and yes, perhaps I undervalued your grasp of politics. I am sorry. And I am listening now.”
She huffed irritably. There was more than a little anger still there, he was going to have to work hard to mend that bond. He had spent too much time worrying about Dalk Carns and the loremaster’s transparent aims to ride the young firebrands of the Clan Council to the khanship, not enough on keeping his key supporters happy. Natasha was not a blunt instrument, she was a sharp edge… and if she was a bridge to the more moderate Crusaders, that might help maintain a numerical edge within the Clan Council.
“Draw up a plan for Rasalhague,” he decided. “And I will talk to Erik. I make no promises to accept these plans of his, but you are right. I should consider them, we cannot afford our Clan to be left irrelevant.”
The Smoke Jaguars would fight fiercely for Rasalhague, he thought. It would be chancy, but if I stacked the units fighting there with Carns’ supporters… no, that might give them the glory of victory and if they were as callous of civilian casualties as the Jaguars were, which is possible, then this could backfire against us.
Some of the more outlying worlds of the corridor, those of the periphery, were marginal at best. Their populations were also adapting to Clan ways, seeing them as preferable to the poverty imposed by the bandit kingdoms that preceded them. Relocating those people as a seed for new Clan-style enclaves in the Inner Sphere… that might work - and shorten the borders to be defended. Or gift them to another Clan, one of the Warden Clans eager to have a chance at the gains being found here.
Ulric frowned. The idea of isolated Clan enclaves around others that did not live under Clan law reminded him of something… oh, of course. The Smoke Jaguars and the enclaves they allowed for those who refused to accept Clan Law. All of which, as he understood it, were growing massively as refugees flooded towards them with each fresh atrocity inflicted. What a precedent, he thought. If we cannot make those enclaves a shining light by comparison, it will be our people who leave them to join the Inner Sphere.
Ulric Kerensky considered the likely reaction of the Clan Council to that and shuddered inwardly.
“I could find an excuse to kill Carns,” Natasha suggested. “He was making enough noise about my age back when I was elected that I could invite him to participate in my next Trial of Position.”
“He is not suicidal, Natasha. Your victory made him a believer in your prowess, at least.” Four victories was unprecedented for a trial of position. “Besides, you and he will likely see enough action that you will not need to defend your status as warriors. Either on Rasalhague, or with more of these peacekeeping missions that Phelan has been finding for us.”
I have one more option for dealing with Carns, he thought darkly. I hope he sees sense and backs down before I need to use it.
-
Zenith Jump Point, Irurzun
Benjamin Military District, Draconis Combine
28 June 3054
Minoru Kurita saw from Carlos Kinnsion’s expression that he was bringing good news. “Is there a problem?” he asked courteously. Insulting someone who served him well would be petulant, a lesson from his grandfather that paired with never blaming the bearer of bad news.
“Warlord Petroff requests permission to board.”
He almost burst to his feet but remembered in time that they were still under zero gravity. Why was the Warlord not on Irurzun? They were four jumps from Petroff’s headquarters on Benjamin, close enough that it was not unreasonable to have scheduled for him to come and greet Minoru at the new capital… but to rendezvous with the jumpship at the jump point?
There was no denying that it sounded sinister. Perhaps that was paranoid of him, but that was also the life that had been bequeathed to him.
“Show the warlord to me,” Minoru ordered tonelessly and then went to a mirror, checking that the uniform he was wearing to travel was immaculate. Appearances had to be maintained…
Would this affect the scheduling for the eight day transit from the jump point to Irurzun itself? A minor detail, but when his days were as rigorously planned as they were… it was only his distance from the planet that kept him from being engaged in video communications with the ministers who had already arrived.
The dropship was not large and it was only moments before Kinnison returned, accompanied by two Otomo guards and Boris Petroff. Minoru would not have been surprised if the guards had been replaced by Benjamin Regulars, but it seemed that treason was not in the cards for today.
How surprising.
“Warlord Petroff,” he greeted the man warmly.
“Tono,” the man said hoarsely. And then he dropped to his knees. “I am not the bearer of good news. I was delayed by the news reaching Benjamin or I would have been halfway to Irurzun now. Since the timing worked out, I felt I should convey it personally.”
“I admire my ancestor Jinjiro,” Minoru said, surprising himself with his own calmness, “If not in everything, then in how he handled messengers.” What was it now? Omi? This half-brother that he did not know at all? War? Peace?
No. Not that last.
Petroff rose slowly to his feet, no doubt remembering that when he was informed of his father’s death, the notorious Jinjiro had lavishly rewarded the sergeant who dared pass on the message… and executed the general who had been too cowardly to do his duty. “The news has, I believed, passed you in transit. New Samarkand has been invaded.”
“The Diamond Sharks.”
“I will not stand on ceremony.” Minoru looked past him to Kinnison. “Have the warlord’s kit transferred to one of our spare cabins. He can counsel me as we travel to the new capital together.”
Kinnison nodded twice: once to Minoru and then once to a guard, who turned and left.
Minoru gestured for Petroff to sit opposite him in the small cabin. Even the Coordinator could only command so much space on a dropship. “In what strength have the Sharks come to New Samarkand?”
“Two Galaxies.”
Half the forces used to invade Luthien… of course, the defenders of New Samarkand were far fewer except in terms of infantry. Minoru considered that for a moment and then set it aside. There was no more he could do. “What news from Noketsuna?” The general had intended to evacuate his own headquarters only after Minoru arrived, a decision that it appeared now had been too late.
“Tono, the Gunji no Kanrei was inspecting repairs aboard the DCS Togura when the Sharks arrived via a pirate point.”
“New Samarkand was General Kerensky’s last port of call before his Exodus left the Inner Sphere,” Minoru observed. “It was to be expected that they would have accurate charts of such points. Please continue.”
“With the enemy between him and the planet, the Kanrei ordered all dropships to make best speed to whatever jumpships they could reach and the Togura attacked the Diamond Shark flotilla,” Petroff reported obediently. “The Sharks diverted their battleship to engage him before he could reach their transports.” He swallowed. “It is to be hoped that he managed to transfer to a dropship before…”
DCS Togura had been reduced to a museum ship early in the Succession Wars, left orbiting New Samarkand as uneconomical to repair. The threat of Clan warships was such that economics were no longer a consideration… but it was also a light carrier no more than a third the reported size of the Diamond Shark’s battleship, and armed far less than proportionately.
“I take it that there is no confirmation then?”
Petroff shook his head. “It remains possible that he was transferred by fighter to a vessel that escaped, but until we hear more he has been logged as missing. The Togura’s crew fought valiantly but reports indicate that their vessel broke up during an attempt to ram.”
“A brave decision.” He reached over and rested one hand on the Warlord’s shoulder. “If they fought with such determination, we can do no less.”
The older man nodded. “The regiments on New Samarkand will no doubt show the same valor.”
Since they cannot escape while there’s a battleship in orbit, Minoru thought. More troops lost, the damage they will inflict is little comfort. “I hope that regiments elsewhere will find the Togura’s example equally inspiring.” Rather than losing faith in my leadership.
Petroff folded his arms. “Any officers who feel that they can do better are invited to prove it on Galedon V, replacing soldiers that have already had the chance to prove their skill and courage. The remaining Dragonsteeth regiment will no doubt appreciate the volunteers to fight alongside them.”
“I am pleased by your confidence in me.”
The older man allowed his professionalism to slip. “If Noketsuna is indeed lost, then it is a dreadful blow. But we must carry on. One day, I am sure, you will lead us to reclaim both New Samarkand and Galedon.”
“That may take some time,” Minoru warned him. “It may be my destiny to lay the groundwork for future Coordinators to achieve those goals.”
Petroff bowed as deeply as he could while sitting. “The dragon is patient, tono. It endures.”
“Yes. It does.” He considered whether he had other questions but could think of none. “Please settle into your quarters aboard. You are invited to dine with me this evening.”
“The Coordinator does me honor.”
The door had barely closed behind the Warlord of Benjamin before there was a knock against it.
“Enter.”
The door slid open to reveal the Otomo guard that Kinnison hadn’t sent to deal with Petroff’s kit. Most likely he had been left as the door guard when the Chu-sa escorted the Warlord away…
An instinct whispered and Minoru had his wakizashi out of its scabbard before the man had fully entered, just in time for the door to slide closed.
Ignoring the sword, the guard dropped to one knee. “Coordinator,” he said in a neutral accent, unstrapping his helmet. “My father sends his salutations.” The helmet came off and then a layer of plastic that had reshaped his face.
“Kerai!” Minoru exclaimed, recognising the operative. Then: “Your father?”
Ninyu Kerai, one of Subhash Indrahar’s inner circle, placed his other knee to the floor before pressing both hands and his forehead to the deck - an impressive feat of control in zero gravity and full battle-rattle kit. “I have the honor to have been adopted, since our last meeting. I am now Ninyu Indrahar.”
“Ah…” It was as close to a nomination as the Smiling One could, by protocol, make. “And your father’s health?”
“He remains on New Samarkand, lord. He conveys his apologies for insufficient warning of the Diamond Shark approach.”
Minoru sighed but did not downplay the failure. Knowing that this was inevitable was not enough, knowing when could have substituted the Gunji no Kanrei and the Director of the ISF and their core staff for other shipments. “I do not believe the gardens of my new palace are yet in a state to be watered by a man of his eminence, even if circumstances allowed.”
The spy remained prone. “Those who cannot be allowed to fall into the hands of the Diamond Sharks will be taken care of with my father’s useful grace. The ISF Headquarters will not easily fall even to the Clans., and if they do breach its other defenses...” he trailed off.
Minoru had never visited the complex in question, but he knew of it. Unlike the slightly more public offices that had been located on Luthien, the true heart of the Internal Security Forces was the size of a large town, buried under a desert that had intentionally been laced with enough minefields and chemical weapons that even a full Battlemech regiment could not hope to cross it without massive support to clear their path - and enough anti-aircraft weapons to summarily deny all flights within two hundred kilometers.
Clan Diamond Shark could not leave such a fortress occupied by the Combine, and Indrahar - the senior of the Indrahars - could not let its facilities or immense files fall into the hands of the Clans. One side or the other would destroy the headquarters first, whatever it required.
“Tell me, Indrahar,” he leant forward. “What do the Dragon’s ears hear?” Was there any good news?
“Lord, your brother has returned to the Combine.”
Minoru stiffened. Hohiro was his brother, this other… Franklin Sakamoto, he did not know. “Oh?”
“Aboard a jumpship chartered from the Free Worlds League and with the consent of the Archon,” Indrahar reported. “Captain Sakamoto presented himself to Warlord Sorenson’s staff on Dieron, conveying a shipment of advanced League weapons and heatsinks at his own expense. Enough, it is believed, for a complete regiment to be upgraded.”
“That is a considerable expense. It seems that my half-brother is a man of resources to rival those of my uncle.”
“Resources that both SAFE, LIC and, I regret to say, the ISF have yet to fully measure,” the spy admitted. “We knew him to have obtained certain licensing and merchandising rights from Donegal Broadcasting Corporation, and to be on excellent terms with the commander of the AFFC’s new Twelfth Donegal Guards. This falls far short of what would be required to obtain supplies on such a grand scale.”
Minoru considered that. “And his loyalties?”
“One of our agents purported to represent Duke Hassad Ricol and took the liberty of presenting the Duke as a supporter of Captain Sakamoto’s further advancement.” Indrahar sat up on his haunches. “The captain has an excellent draw cut. When questioned on the matter by Warlord Sorenson, he was forthright on the matter and has sworn himself to be a loyal servant of the Dragon, with Sorenson accepting the oath as your proxy.”
That… was promising. Of course, it was probable that one of Sakamoto’s background had suspected that the approach was a false-flag, but at the same time such a decisive action indicated that he might at least be disinclined to explore such ties under any circumstance.
“Bring him to me,” he ordered quietly. “And… Indrahar, the man whose face you wear?”
“Secured and alive,” the spy promised. “I will communicate the security breach to Chu-sa Kinnison once I am away, as well as how to correct it. I am sure we can leave discipline to the Chu-sa.”
“That is my own assessment.”
The door hissed open, and then closed. There was no other sound to mark the spy’s departure.
Minoru was finally able to relax his fingers from the hilt of his sword. He sheathed it and then recovered a pillow from the bunk. Burying his face in the pillow, the Coordinator screamed in frustration.
-
Well written - I never thought I'd feel sympathy for the Coordinator of the Draconis Combine.
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I have more sympathy for Wei, personally... ;D
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Given how inflexible Steel Wipers are regarding the freebirth warriors, I reckon they will be the prime targets for FC attrition tactics, once the situation stabilizes on the truce line. DC will have a difficulty of doing similar tactics against Sharks or Bears, due to being more mauled.
Clan Fire Mandrill had been described (also by his sibkin) as ‘seven dwarf Clans trying to wear a giant’s coat’.
While brawling amongst each other in the said coat.
Well written - I never thought I'd feel sympathy for the Coordinator of the Draconis Combine.
The amount of pressure Minoru is under, so soon after losing parents and brother, probably hasn't been experienced by any ruler since 1st SW.
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Opalescent Reflections
Stacking the Deck
Chapter 8
Lootera, Huntress
Kerensky Cluster, Clan Homeworlds
19 August 3054
It had been a lovely clear day, and although some clouds had blown in near sunset, much of the sky was still clear now.
Tyra lay on the roof, one eye screwed shut and the other pressed against the end of a cylinder no longer than her arm. Satisfied that it was lined up correctly, she wriggled away, careful not to knock it. Taking a pair of calipers from her pocket, she measured the angle of the cylinder and made a note of the results.
Satisfied, she considered trying to pick out another star and decided against it. There was only so long that she could be absent on her errand before it would become suspicious, and she had four sets of data. Instead, she broke down the framework holding the cylinder, dropping each piece into her technician’s kit. The cylinder broke open easily - too easily, really. She almost dropped one of the lens that made it into a crude telescope, only barely catching it.
Taking a deep breath of relief - she had signed for the lens and if it wasn’t installed eventually she’d be called to account for it - Tyra forced herself to keep packing everything away carefully. Stripping the top page from her notepad she folded it to protect the precious numbers and slipped it into her boot where it would hopefully not wind up torn.
Once she’d finished packing everything away in the kit, Tyra crawled quietly across to the edge of the roof, looking down the full height of the ‘mech hangar. Fortunately, the structure wasn’t in use - normally home to as much as a quarter of the Jaguar touman, Huntress was currently well below those numbers. Even the formation of Tau Galaxy hadn’t filled all the available facilities and this particular hangar remained surplus to current demands.
That didn’t necessarily mean that no one would be using it. She’d learned already that the civilian castes were more than happy to use spaces rarely frequented by warriors to handle their own business. Thus, Tyra secured a line to the toolkit and lowered it carefully to the top landing of the external stairway. The weight of the line dragged on her gloved hands, but once the toolbox was down, she was able to dangle from the edge of the roof, toes just barely reaching the robust handle.
For a moment after Tyra let go of the roof, she feared that she’d topple backwards and off the stair entirely, the handle wasn’t wide or intended to be a stable footing. Instead she stepped down onto the somewhat more reliable grated floor of the landing and took a deep breath. It would be deeply ironic if she fell to her death now.
Heart no longer racing, the blonde picked up the toolkit and carried it down the stairs one flight at a time, looking around at each landing to see if she had been noticed.
Travel time to what she had learned was called the Kerensky Cluster was lengthy even with occasional use of other Clan’s jumpships and recharge stations along the way. Tyra reckoned they had averaged a jump every four days, which made Huntress roughly a thousand light years beyond the Inner Sphere. And from gossip, the Clans’ capital world was just one jump away.
When she reached the bottom of the stairs, Tyra tried to forget that fact. To focus on the now.
She had to compartmentalize. Future possibilities, however enticing, might distract her from doing what she needed in order to survive in the now.
The small jeep she’d used for this errand wasn’t really different from those used in the Inner Sphere. There were hundreds of them in use all around the city, by warriors and civilians alike. There was nothing even slightly suspicious about one being parked out by the currently unused waste bins - except that no one was, officially, using the hangar.
Hoping that anyone driving past had assumed that the jeep was simply that of civilians making discreet use, or of someone taking advantage of the inactive status to carry out maintenance, Tyra hopped in and turned the engine on.
No one seemed to be paying attention as she pulled out and wove through the streets, eventually blending into traffic around more occupied buildings. The work to keep the equipment of the touman went on day and night, particularly when hundreds of ‘mechs and aerospace fighters needed to be maintained, repaired from training and trials, and then sent out for more of the same.
She pulled up at one end of the rank of almost identical vehicles, and looked around. Other than a couple of techs quietly smoking that weren’t quite as well hidden as they thought, no one appeared to be waiting around for her.
That was good.
Tyra picked up the toolkit and went to the door. Inside, there was an entire work crew stood around not doing anything.
That was not good.
“What kept you?” demanded Krona.
Play it cool, Tyra. “The zeerga at requisitions were playing dumb about the paperwork,” she answered. It had the virtue of being true, if not to nearly the extent she implied. Zeerga were apparently native to Strana Mechty, the clan’s capital world - predominantly the regions that overlapped with the enclave of one of the Smoke Jaguar’s rival Clans. Here on Huntress it was just an insult.
“You kept us working late,” the master tech accused, throwing a kick at a bucket full of water. “Again!”
“If you think someone else can do this faster… well, you are probably right,” Tyra admitted. “But in that case why not send them?”
“Because you cannot do your work in any useful time anyway!”
That was harsh, if not entirely unfair.
Krona jerked her jaw to one side. “I had plans tonight. They are now off. Because you got lost, you stupid spheroid! You think I do not know anyone in requisitions. Teach her not to joyride, boys.”
Oh hell…!
Two of the other techs tried to catch Tyra by the arms, a slight tactical error when she was holding a heavy tool kit. Tyra whirled to her right, heaving the kit up to slam into the man on that side under the ribs. He folded up with pained grunt.
That left someone behind her and Tyra felt him snake his arms up under hers in an attempt at a full-nelson. She slammed her head back and felt something crunch, not that it left her head any less ringing from the impact. The arms fell away.
The last of Krona’s lackeys took a swing at Tyra from the left - she saw a glint of a metal in his hand and threw up a block that took the blow up and over her shoulder. Not a knife, she realized in relief, some sort of a knuckleduster. Her knee went as the off balance tech came close to her and he shrieked right into her face as her kneecap came together with the soft tissue of his crotch.
Tyra stepped back, looking to see if anyone was getting up to take this further.
Krona didn’t seem done, and nor did the man with blood pouring from his broken nose. The toolkit landed sideways on the floor as the man she’d hit with it pushed it off him and struggled to get up onto his feet.
The door behind Tyra swung open. “What is going on here?” a young voice demanded.
“Star Commander!” Krona called, sounding relieved, “This tech attacked us!”
“Bullshit!” snapped Tyra, turning around to look at the new arrival.
Star Commander Arnold looked at her with a somewhat feral interest. “Trent’s pet? Again?” He looked barely old enough to shave, and drunk on the power of his rank.
“They attacked me!” she protested.
“You clobbered me with that toolkit!” the man still climbing off the floor protested hastily.
“In self-defense! And he has brass knuckles on him!” Tyra accused, pointing at the man clutching his groin with one hand.
Except he hadn’t now. Was this a set-up? She didn’t think Arnold would play along with a tech’s power plays, but he was inexperienced enough to be easily deceived by Krona. Or at least not to investigate her words too closely.
“I do not see any brass knuckles on him,” the Star Commander observed sharply.
Had the man “Search and you’ll find them!”
Arnold stepped closer and then slapped her across the face sharply. It took all Tyra’s self-control not to lash out in reply, but attacking a warrior really would finish her off here. “You do not give me orders, troublemaker.” He gestured towards the ‘mech bay housing his Arctic Cheetah. “Do you think I have forgotten that my ‘mech’s armor was not fully replaced before last week’s exercise because you got into a fistfight with Tech Jerome.”
Given that Jerome had decided to test the pressure on his hose before cleaning the Arctic Cheetah by spraying her with it - something that had knocked Tyra off her feet - and justified it as ‘cleaning some off the Inner Sphere filth off of her. The scumbag had got what was coming to her - Tyra’s father had told her that ignoring bullies got you much less safety than making them understand that their actions had consequences.
Of course, some bullies didn’t have to worry about consequences.
“I have had enough of this,” Arnold told her with what he probably thought was calm menace. “You have made problems twice. There will not be third one.”
“Sure, whatever you say,” Tyra agreed, feeling blood trickle from her split lip.
“Neg,” he shook his head. “Your promise means nothing to me, spheroid. You are being reassigned. Somewhere you can do no further damage.”
“I think not.”
Tyra looked up in relief to see Star Captain Trent walking into the hangar. Twice now he’d stepped in when she needed help urgently. If it happened again she might assume some degree of conspiracy. But right now, she was just relieved to see him.
“Star Captain. Your tech is causing problems again.”
“Is she?” Trent was kept walking forwards, almost mechanically precise in his movements. He had adopted that mannerism on the voyage, perhaps because it intimidated the hell out of the less experienced warriors. Some of the younger, more gullible of the warriors here on Huntress thought that he was dead already, reanimated by science because he just refused to stop fighting. “She is my tech, quiaff?”
“...aff.”
“You are my superior suddenly, quineg?”
Arnold studied the floor until Trent jabbed his mechanical hand up against the boy’s throat. “Neg! Neg!”
“Ah…” Trent nodded crisply, “Perhaps your education skipped past this detail of the martial code. Technicians assigned to a warrior are subject to that warrior, and accountable to their caste superiors and also to that warrior. That may go up the chain of command, but never down. Do you understand?”
“Aff!”
“Good.” The Star Captain lowered his hand slowly. “So. For what reason do you wish to send my technician away, Star Commander?”
Arnold indicated Krona and the three other techs. “She attacked them.”
“You saw this?”
Tyra saw the young mechwarrior consider lying and then dismiss the notion. “Neg. I… they reported it.”
“Ah. And the cameras?”
“Cameras?” Arnold and the technicians all looked started.
Tyra glanced at Trent. He hadn’t told anyone?
“The Inner Sphere is rife with bandits who will attempt to sabotage or steal military equipment without an open challenge,” Trent informed Arnold in a lecturing tone. “I distinctly recall mentioning that circumstance to the binary.”
“Aff, but this is not the Inner Sphere.”
Krona looked panicked suddenly, looking around.
“You are being trained to operate as you must within the Inner Sphere,” the scarred warrior informed his subordinate. “The cameras placed within the hangar were a test, which you have failed. In this, you will have a second chance. Such carelessness in the Inner Sphere could leave our enemies in possession of your Battlemech, which is not to be permitted.” He turned his gaze upon Krona, who cringed. “Do I need to review those recordings, Master Tech? Or do you have any corrections to your report?”
“I…” The woman hesitated and then blurted: “She was late! I was disciplining her and she attacked me!”
There was a choking sound from Trent, a laugh distorted by his rebuilt throat. “If Tyra had attacked you, Master Tech, you would show the marks. Unlike the rest of your crew.” He indicated the bruised and bloodied technicians. “Even if I accept that explanation, you could be said to have submitted a false report to a warrior.”
“No, I…” She looked around, settling on Arnold as a source of support. His snarl at her made it clear that he was already blaming her for his own arrogant assumptions.
“Misleading information can be more damaging than any outright falsehood,” Trent intoned ominously. “I believe my tech is sufficiently chastised, you may go, Tyra.”
Recovering the toolbox, Tyra strode quickly away as Trent gestured sharply for Arnold and the work crew to follow him out of the hangar. She would have to be more careful in the future - Krona did have connections, she had admitted it herself. And she would be smarting from whatever punishment was delivered - it was very unlikely she’d be dismissed outright.
There was no gantry lift to help her climb up the side of the ‘mechs in the hangar. She had to climb stairs, dragging the toolbox with her. Adrenaline was wearing out, leaving her tired beyond what was normal at this hour. Fortunately, the Ebon Jaguar was low-slung and she didn’t have to go as high as might otherwise be the case.
Opening an inspection panel, Tyra accessed the laser pod mounted in the left side of the torso. Normally, she had learned, technicians would remove the entire weapon for repairs to be done in a workshop. However, the high tempo of operations meant that the trucks moving weapons from hangars to workshops were all heavily booked, so minor repairs were having to be done in the hangars.
Securing the weapon assembly to the bay’s internal cranes, the pilot undogged it from the ‘mech and slowly drew it out. A ton of laser moved as easily as a well-oiled door under the cranes’ gentle direction.
Tyra opened the toolkit and was relieved to find that the well padded containers for delicate components hadn’t visibly damaged the lens she’d brought in. Extracting the originals, one of which was visibly cracked, she swapped them for the replacement parts before hooking up the diagnostic computer to begin dialing in the targeting systems for the new lens. It shouldn’t be a problem with a fresh component, but there was always the chance that someone in requisitions would pass off a damaged part to her or that there had been undetected damage during the fracas.
Confident that none of the cameras she’d emplaced would spot her, the Iron Jarl’s daughter retrieved her calculations from earlier and began delicately encoding them into the control programmes of the laser. Junk data that would be ignored by the targeting computer, but retrieved at a later date by anyone who knew where it was in the code.
Which was just her, right now. But if she got back to the Inner Sphere then she would have the raw data to work backwards to calculate Huntress’ location from four different large and distinctive stars above the plane of the Milky Way. And if ComStar’s astronomical data was up to it…
Then they would know how to find the Clans’ homeworlds.
All she had to do was survive long enough to deliver it, and the Smoke Jaguars would pay for Reykjavik. They would pay for everything!
Yamashiro, New Samarkand
Diamond Shark Dominion
22 August 3054
Ace Enders sat on the foot of his Huntsman, parked outside what had until recently been the Coordinator’s palace. There were hangars built into the structure but they hadn’t yet been confirmed as safe, so the Ivory Skate were parked outside, with a security perimeter thrown up.
Yesterday half the warriors of Gamma and Epsilon Galaxy had been given liberty to celebrate the capture of New Samarkand. The report that the corpse of the Usurper, left behind by the Great Father, had been found was for some reason pushing the urge to party even further.
And, of course, someone had done something during that celebration that was now demanding his time on the day that he was supposed to be able to enjoy himself. The privileges of command.
“Galaxy Commander,” Annika Enders offered with a salute that was parade ground precision. Not out of respect, Ace was almost certain, but simply because she didn’t want to give him anything that he could use against her.
“Annika,” he replied, returning the salute casually. “Take a seat. This is not a formal matter… unless you would prefer that it was?”
“I do not believe that I have anything to fear from a formal investigation,” the other member of his Bloodhouse declared.
“Not yet,” Ace told her. “Not yet. Although putting another member of Epsilon Galaxy in the hands of the medics in an informal Trial of Grievance could - from a certain point of view - be considered detrimental to our combat readiness.”
“The trial of grievance is my right under the Martial Code,” she countered.
Ace rested one elbow on his knee and then used that hand to support his chin. “The right to call for a trial of grievance is coupled with the responsibility to do so in a time and manner that does not undermine the Clan. I have heard from others who were present, but in your own words, what was the nature of your Grievance with Mechwarrior Paul?”
He got an upraised chin in challenge. “He was wearing samurai swords.”
Ace nodded encouragingly, as if he expected more, but remained silent. After a moment, he used his other hand to wave for her to continue. He wasn’t surprised by her statement, he knew there was nothing more to it than what she had already said, he just wanted to emphasize how petty he found her justification.
Annika scowled deeply. “That was enough. It disgusted me that he would behave like the follower of a Scavenger Lord and not a Clan warrior.”
“That is your reason for knocking him unconscious, quiaff?”
“Aff!”
Ace nodded wearily. “You are older than I and had the privilege of going through the complete training of a Clan warrior. I assume therefore than Clan Burrock did familiarize you with the iconography of the other Clans, quiaff?”
Annika frowned, “Aff?”
“What type of sword appears on the Jade Falcon banner?” he asked innocently.
Her face fell. “A… katana.”
“Aff,” he agreed. “Are you going to attack every Jade Falcon you meet, because they have a katana embroidered on their uniform?”
“That is not the same thing!”
“Ah, of course.” He sat up. “I believe Mechwarrior Paul claimed those weapons from the cockpit of a mechwarrior he defeated. Are other warriors who take trophies going to be attacked in future? It is not an uncommon practice, quiaff?”
“A trophy is not the same as wearing them as if he was a -”
Ace raised his hand for her to stop. “There is no regulation forbidding the Clan’s warriors from carrying weapons, and carrying those claimed from those you defeat is an acceptable manner of boasting. At this time, we are fighting the Draconis Combine so such swords are quite common. Given that other Clans use the weapons, it cannot be considered an expression of sympathy. The fact that it piques you is quite trivial. This is not a matter that merits rendering another warrior unfit to fight. I am clear, quaiff?”
She folded her arms rebelliously. “Aff.”
“If you must make such challenges, choose terms other than combat. But if you intend to police the preferred sidearms of every warrior you come across… you will be very busy,” he warned and then shook his head. “Since yesterday was a celebration and we are unlikely to see battle before Paul recovers, I will let it slide this time. But just this time. If it happens again, this will become a disciplinary matter.”
Annika snorted disdainfully, “If you wanted rid of me, why do you not challenge me? Are you afraid I would set terms that would put you at a disadvantage?”
She would be an idiot if she did not. “Because ‘getting rid of you’ is not my duty. You obviously have talent as a warrior, but you are also an officer. If you expect to rise past Star Commander I strongly suggest that you start to consider matters beyond the immediate.”
“As you do?”
“The process is the same,” Ace told her irritably, “Even if the conclusion may differ. If you were doing this to provoke me, you have failed. Should it recur, you will be transferred out of Epsilon Galaxy.”
“I would demand a Trial of Refusal,” she pointed out with a smug smile.
“While I could deny that,” he pointed out, “Since it is an operational decision, not a voted issue of the Clan Council, I could also agree and impose conditions that made your Trial even more of an uphill struggle than the last time we fought.” Ace rose to his feet. “So, you have been counseled on this matter, which is my obligation. If you continue to embrace idiocy, then all you will get is the very slight consolation that I am disappointed in you. Not afraid, not angry, just disappointed.”
He saw her eyes bulge in outrage and Annika opened her mouth to retort, only to think better of it at the last moment. She turned sharply and walked away, boots crunching on the gravel of the garden path.
A moment later Val approached, looking amused. “Are you done with your duties now?”
Ace nodded and brushed himself down. “Unless someone has another emergency for me to deal with.” He tapped his comm.
“So what was her reason for putting Paul in the medbay?” the other freeborn asked. “I have heard many rumors, but it is hard to tell what the truth is.”
“She objected to his choice of sidearm?”
“...that hardly seems sufficient cause.”
“I agree. For some reason,” Ace added, “Carrying two swords in the fashion of a samurai has set her off.”
Val scrunched up her face. “There are better ways to handle that.”
He felt his eyes narrow. That wasn’t quite a condemnation of Annika’s position, only of how she handled it. Perhaps he was reading too much into it. “I wonder if she would have challenged me if I still had the daisho I carried before the absorption of the Burrocks.”
“I am glad you do not,” the woman said frankly. “I know that they are just trophies, for now, but that is not how everyone sees it. They are almost a symbol.”
“How do you mean?”
Val linked her arm with his as they walked through the city - or at least the upper levels that were dotted with palaces and parks. “There have been many changes to the Clan since we came to the Inner Sphere. The Burrocks are at least fundamentally a Clan, we have a common background with them even if some of their customs are strange. But the people of the Inner Sphere… if we start taking up their customs, that strikes me as dangerous.”
“Ah.” Ace turned that over in his head. When had his life not been a whirlwind of change? “And the swords, you see as a symbol of that?”
“I know that they are just trophies,” she clarified. “But it does bother me to see us doing things that are done here. Warriors choosing a sidearm is one thing, but when so many choose the same weapon I cannot help but feel that it has more significance.”
“It does,” he told her. “The swords are a symbol, after a fashion. Not for the people who carry them, but for the people we rule now. To them we are something strange and alien, but when we carry the swords that they are used to seeing their rulers carrying it gives them something to latch onto.” He chuckled. “I did not plan on that when I kept those swords with me, but it has paid off.”
But Val shook her head. “We should set them aside then, these people must adapt to the ways of the Clan. The more they treat us like their lords, the greater the temptation for us to act like them.”
“We cannot do that.” Ace cautioned. “The right to carry arms, in particular the two swords, is one of the main draws we have in recruiting warriors from the Inner Sphere. The touman is too small to garrison the worlds we have now and the campaign is not done yet…” His mind flickered to the upcoming Clan Council meeting. Among the topics to be discussed was Barbara Sennet’s plan to sweep in and seize worlds from the Outworlds Alliance. “Turning around and denying those recruits the chance to carry the swords would be worse than not offering the chance in the first place.”
“But they will not really be -” She broke off as Ace took his arm from hers. “What?”
“They will not really be what?” Ace asked her. “Not warriors? Not part of Clan Diamond Shark?”
Val paled. “Not like that, not like you. You chose us, Ace. I missed that at first, but no one doubts you. But them? It will not be until they have grown up under our laws that they understand us.”
“I did not grow up under Clan law either,” he reminded her. “Something closer, yes. The dark caste are not as far removed from the Clans as they like to think. But we cannot keep them out. We have come too far now. If we do not absorb them, as we did the Burrocks, we will be overstretched and this Dominion, as it has been named… it will be dead within ten years. We cannot keep going as we have.”
“We cannot change and remain who we are!” she shot back, voice rising to the point heads began to turn in their direction.
Ace turned to face her. “Change is life, Val. The Clans are superbly adapted to the homeworlds, for a society that has severely limited resources and fundamentally local demands on those resources. For a society that has no outside pressures upon us. But now that we are in the Inner Sphere, that does not work. Five years ago, no enclave of the Clans was more than a jump from another Clan’s territory - now there’s no other Clan within how many jumps? Ten, twelve?”
Val shook her head. “Why are you saying this? I thought that you were happy to be a Diamond Shark!”
“I am - but perhaps my idea of the Clan differs from yours,” he said hotly. “More shark than diamond, more a living thing than a carved block of crystal.”
She took a step back, eyes wide. “You say we have to change,” she demanded. “But what if we change to the point we are no longer a Clan?” And then she whirled and strode away, shoulders square, back stiff and upright.
Ace stared after her for a moment. He had no ready answer, but it occurred to him that both Val and Annika were mad at him for the same general reason: he was not their idea of what a Clan warrior should be. How ironic: a trueborn former-Burrock and a freeborn Diamond Shark coming to much the same conclusions.
“Perhaps there is something to what they say,” he mused out loud and then shook his head and walked on, taking a different direction to Val. He did not want to cross her path again. There was to be food down in some of the plazas.
I got this far by killing people, he thought. That seems to please them - well, Val. And Barbara, Angus… even Steven Hawker seems to admire me for that, when he came pretty close to being one of those I killed! But there are problems that I can’t solve by killing and I… I may not be good enough when it comes to other solutions. This is a bit more complicated than fixing an ammo feed.
-
New Hannover, Arc-Royal
Donegal Province, Federated Commonwealth
10 September 3054
Green-painted omnimechs swarmed forwards against ‘mechs in black and red. A storm of fire from their weapons smashed against each side and Aidan Pryde cursed to himself as he exchanged fire against an enemy Summoner.
The other ‘mechwarrior was skilled and if his weapons had not been replaced with older and less capable models, the PPC hit he landed might have penetrated the armor over Aidan’s ammunition bins. Aidan’s own PPC missed but the pulse laser in his other arm carved plating away from a line across the chest of the Kell Hounds ‘mech.
Fortunately, there were very few Clan mechs being deployed against them, or things might be going poorly for the advance on New Hannover. The Kell Hounds outnumbered the Gyrfalcon Guards considerably, even if that edge had dropped sharply over three days of indecisive clashes. It must be salvage from Luthien, Aidan thought. Repaired with parts they could obtain.
He threw his own Summoner into a jump and fired each of his weapons in turn at his opponent as he arced up over the battlefield. The other ‘mech zig-zagged, avoiding PPC and pulse laser with almost preternatural grace. The missile salvo could track to an extent and had more luck - roughly half the missiles struck home, blasting craters into the red and black paint and the armor beneath it.
The Kell Hound’s own return missiles missed their lock entirely, as did his PPC, but Aidan’s ‘mech was clipped by a cloud of submunitions from the LB-X autocannon, sending him slightly off balance. As he landed, beams of light lashed out and scored through the armor of one arm. The damage warning lights alerted him that there had been minor penetrations of the limb, right as a recorded warning told him he was down to one final salvo of twenty LRMs.
They were close though. He could see the towering buildings of Arc-Royal MechWorks up ahead. The Watch reported that the workers there had almost finished loading up their tooling for evacuation to by maglev. It deprived the Kell Hounds of their last major repair facility here… and the Jade Falcons of the chance to capture the factory in a state they could make use of.
“Joanna!” Aidan shouted as he traced the laser fire back to a Wolfhound that was already ducking behind the cover of the wooded hills flanking the highway. “Push through!” It was a calculated risk - most of the Guards would be low on ammunition and armor, but the same had to be true of their opponents.
“About time!” the older warrior shouted and her trinary lunged forwards on the right flank, catching a company of Kell Hounds off guard.
Aidan had ordered Joanna to have her warriors switch to energy weapons only after they dropped below half their onboard ammunition, saving it for a moment like this one.
With the pressure mostly on the center and their own right flank, the Kell Hounds had committed their reserves there. Now they paid a price for that as Joanna and her warriors unleashed every weapon they had on the forward ranks of the mercenaries’ left.
Aidan was forced to commit his attention to the enemy Summoner as it lashed out at him again, PPC and autocannon catching him this time, but he saw a rush of the faster Kell Hounds trying to respond and reinforce the exposed flank. One of them was the Wolfhound from a moment ago and Aidan focused his fire on it for a moment, his PPC tearing apart the protection around the laser mounted in its right arm. A moment later his last LRMs hammered into the lighter ‘mech and severed a joint - while, the Wolfhound still managed to get out of his range to join the fight against Joanna’s trinary, it left the lower half of its right arm below.
“We are seeing additional hovertanks,” Horse reported from the left flank. “They are trying to get around behind us.”
Aidan charged closer to the Kell Hounds’ Summoner, scoring no hits but forcing it to backpedal to keep him from getting inside the inner effective range of his LRMs. “Can you handle them?” There were explosions from the right as two of the Kell Hounds’ mechs suffered ammunition explosions that tore them apart within heartbeats of each other.
“I peeled off Diana’s Star to get rid of them, but that is giving the Hounds ideas!” his old friend told him, then grunted as Aidan heard the tell-tale sound of weapon impacts. At least Horse was in a Hellbringer now, something more powerful than the Viper he’d ridden previously.
“We are hammering their left flank, just hold on.”
“They are hammering ours - ugh, got you!” Horse shouted suddenly. “Right, one less Hound to worry about. Tell Joanna to stop playing around!”
“I heard that, you freebirth stravag!” the other Star Captain shouted and Aidan saw another Kell Hound ‘mech vanish, this time in the silvery fireball of a fusion reactor breach.
“You were meant to.”
Aidan ignored the bickering of the pair and ducked to avoid another hit from the Kell Hound’s PPC. At least Diana was less childish than the two older warriors. She had returned from the bloodright trials with a knife scar along one arm from the early rounds and no bloodname - shot out of her Nova during the semi-final round. Her spirit was unbroken though and Aidan had assigned her a new Black Lanner, which he hoped conveyed that he was not disappointed in her.
As if summoned by the thought of her, Diana spoke up. “Star Colonel, the hovertanks are not militia or Kell Hounds. They have Davion Guard markings.”
Aidan threw his Summoner back, not quite avoiding a flurry of LRMs from his opponent. (If he captured this mechwarrior, he wanted him as a bondsman!) “Acknowledged.” His mind raced - Marthe’s Second Falcon Jaegers, the other half of the forces bid to secure this continent of Arc Royal, had been facing the Third Davion Guards around Old Connaught, the planetary capital. Was this another force not previously identified? Old Connaught was to the south, and any forces detached from there would be approaching from his left.
“Marthe,” he snapped, switching to the command channel. “We are seeing Davion Guards outside New Hannover. Hovertanks for now…”
“It is two days since we last saw their cavalry regiment,” his sibkin noted. “I believed they were refitting after the mauling we gave them then.” She paused. “It is just as long since we confirmed sightings of their Second Battalion. They were under half-strength then, we almost caught their prince. You know how protective they are of their royalty.”
“The Steiner-Davions and the Kells have a blood connection,” Aidan recalled, although the details escaped him for the moment. He broke off for an instant as the Summoner closed in sharply, autocannon and PPC almost hitting him. A last minute flare of his jump jets got Aidan out of the path of the shots and he smashed the other Summoner’s missile launcher with his own PPC’s fire. “They could have been detached to reinforce the Hounds here.”
He cut the channel and pulled back, he needed room to think! “Star Commander Horse, there could be a ‘mech trinary behind those hover tanks. Prepare to refuse your flank…”
The next forty minutes were a chaotic melee as Aidan juggled the demands of supporting Joanna’s push north of the highway with extracting Horse’s trinary from a pincer formed of the Kell Hounds and the Third Davion Guards.
As the sun set and damage mounted on both sides, he was forced to order the Gyrfalcon Guards to pull back. Only nine ‘mechs out of the fourteen Horse had fielded at the start of the day rejoined the force, although three of the mechwarriors had been picked up.
Diana’s Black Lanner was the last to return, scorched to match its name but still fit to fight. “I was dueling one of their Hippogriffs,” she reported. “Every time he was in trouble, the rest of them would shift focus to give him covering fire.”
“She did well,” Horse added when Joanna made a disparaging noise. “If she had not been fighting anything up to four ‘mechs at a time, she would have defeated that mechwarrior. As it was, her Star took enough pressure for us to batter the Kell Hounds too much for them to try a counter attack.”
Joanna grunted unhappily. “Nomad wants to talk to you about the Summoner,” she told Aidan shortly.
He nodded. “Show me.”
The aged Star Captain turned her back pointedly on Horse and Diana, marching alongside Aidan to where the battered Summoner - still visibly painted in red and black - had been dragged. Both legs were wrecks, from where Aidan had finally managed to cripple it. Unfortunately, the Wolfhound from earlier (identifiable from its missing right arm) had rushed in and picked up the mechwarrior before Aidan could claim him as a bondsman.
“I will not thank you for requesting my assignment here,” she said shortly.
“It was an entirely selfish decision,” he said wryly.
“I know. Like sending your… daughter to compete for a bloodname.” Joanna’s lips curled in disdain. “Every time I think you have stopped embarrassing the Clan with your antics, you find another way.”
“She is a skilled mechwarrior.”
His old teacher grunted. “Adequate. She could be better if you and Horse were not cosseting her.”
That was almost praise, Aidan reflected as they reached Nomad.
The old tech was wiping his hands with an oily rag. He looked up at their approach. “Star Captain. Star Colonel.”
“Joanna said you had something to say about this Summoner?” Aidan indicated the ‘mech.
Nomad jerked his head in something approaching a nod. “It is not a Summoner.”
“What?” Aidan looked at it again.
“Are you getting blind in your old age?” Joanna demanded.
“It is a copy,” the tech grunted, ignoring the jibe. “The engine is too bulky, same with the structural members. Like the older equipment we still have in Brian Caches or garrison units. Star League technology. I think it was built here in the Inner Sphere.”
Aidan ran one hand through his hair. “I knew the weapons were not our own. I thought that they had replaced the pods.”
“It is not an omnimech either,” Nomad told him, pocketing the rag. “No pods, everything is wired in.”
“Usurper’s bones,” Aidan hissed.
“What?” Joanna demanded.
“The Inner Sphere is building machines that are almost as good as our own,” he told her. “They already outnumber us. First the Hippogriff and now this. At this rate, our only edge will be the warriors and you saw how the Kell Hounds fought. I have seen less skilled warriors in our own touman.”
“Not in the Guards,” she objected.
Aidan paused and glanced at Joanna. “Not even Diana.”
She scowled at him. “Do not put words into my mouth.”
“Anyway,” Nomad observed. “We can repair this, but it will take longer than the Star Captain’s Mad Dog. And finding parts… we may have to see what a garrison unit can send us.”
“Or what we find in the ‘Mech Works,” Aidan speculated. But in his imagination he could hear maglev trains pulling away to the west and he suspected that the Kell Hounds would leave little to be used.
-
Ooooo interesting, so an Inner Sphere Thor-Ku kind of deal? It's definitely doable, just expensive as heck.
Thor-Ku
Mass: 70 tons
Chassis: Endo Steel Biped
Power Plant: 350 XL
Cruising Speed: 54 kph
Maximum Speed: 86.4 kph
Jump Jets: Standard
Jump Capacity: 150 meters
Armor: Standard
Armament:
1 ER PPC
1 LB 10-X AC
1 SRM 6
Manufacturer: Unknown
Primary Factory: Unknown
Communication System: Unknown
Targeting & Tracking System: Unknown
Introduction Year: 3053
Tech Rating/Availability: E/X-X-E-D
Cost: 16,730,267 C-bills
Type: Thor-Ku
Technology Base: Inner Sphere (Standard)
Tonnage: 70
Battle Value: 1,763
Equipment Mass
Internal Structure Endo Steel 3.5
Engine 350 XL 15
Walking MP: 5
Running MP: 8
Jumping MP: 5
Double Heat Sink 12 [24] 2
Gyro 4
Cockpit 3
Armor Factor 216 13.5
Internal Armor
Structure Value
Head 3 9
Center Torso 22 33
Center Torso (rear) 10
R/L Torso 15 23
R/L Torso (rear) 7
R/L Arm 11 22
R/L Leg 15 30
Right Arm Actuators: Shoulder, Upper Arm, Lower Arm
Left Arm Actuators: Shoulder, Upper Arm, Lower Arm
Weapons
and Ammo Location Critical Heat Tonnage
Jump Jet LL 1 - 1.0
Jump Jet CT 1 - 1.0
Jump Jet RT 1 - 1.0
LB 10-X AC LA 6 2 11.0
LB 10-X Cluster Ammo (10) LA 1 - 1.0
Jump Jet LT 1 - 1.0
SRM 6 LT 2 4 3.0
LB 10-X AC Ammo (10) LT 1 - 1.0
SRM 6 Ammo (15) LT 1 - 1.0
Jump Jet RL 1 - 1.0
ER PPC RA 3 15 7.0
-
Here's a link (https://bg.battletech.com/forums/index.php/topic,83180.0.html) to the design.
-
Nice to read up on the latest chapters to the story. Glad to see Ace Enders is trying to teach his fellow Clansmen that they must learn to adapt, realize that their new territory and people are now members of the Clan. Too bad there are too many Clansmen not realizing that by conquering inner sphere territory that they have to adapt too and not just the conquered people. So I wonder after another year of occupation of the former DC worlds, no the Dimond Shark Dominion. How many more PGC units will be formed with the innersphere adoptees (warriors)? The ones that are willing to join to protect their homeworld agains other Clans?
Seeing the Jade Falcons move on Arc-Royal must be response to Clan Steel Viper being in the FC space. I bet the Jade Falcon leadership is hoping to cut off the advance of the Vipers. I wonder if the leadership of Clans Jade Falcon, Nova Cat and Steel Viper are paying attention to the treatment of the new conquered people by Ghost Bear and Dimond Shark.
Primus Wei Rong just needs to be doing things to survive and hopefully can get more cooperation from other powers to support the fight against the Clan's.
Too Bad, Katherine SD is stationed in the Draconis March and not closer to the Clan Front or FWL?
Thank you for writing and looking forward to the next update!
-
So I wonder after another year of occupation of the former DC worlds, no the Dimond Shark Dominion. How many more PGC units will be formed with the innersphere adoptees (warriors)? The ones that are willing to join to protect their homeworld agains other Clans?
The first sibkos of freeborn warriors from the Inner Sphere (including bondsmen being given the chance) will be graduating in late 3055 and early 3056. Unlike Ulric's hustling of Phelan to that status, the Diamond Sharks want everyone fully trained (to be honest, also this is to check that the candidates have been thoroughly indoctrinated before they are given ready access to military hardware). There were full BSoD fits of rage over the curriculum of Minoru Kurita University - the idea of it just taking six months to turn a civilian into an infantry officer absolutely horrified most of the Diamond Sharks.
Seeing the Jade Falcons move on Arc-Royal must be response to Clan Steel Viper being in the FC space. I bet the Jade Falcon leadership is hoping to cut off the advance of the Vipers.
The advance of the three Clans isn't all that cohesive, with them often racing to reach prizes first or bidding against each other to take a world. There's no clear invasion corridors. Aidan and his Gyrfalcon Guards are being bounced around more than most Clusters because Vandervahn Chistu is using his former command, Delta/Gyrfalcon Galaxy as troubleshooters.
The AFFC is also managing occasional counter-attacks against lightly garrisoned worlds, which could then be retaken by a different Clan if they are nearby - this does as much to confuse the situation as it does to help consolidate territories.
As a general pattern, the Nova Cats started sweeping into coreward regions of Coventry Province, wanting a region that would be far from the AFFC's potential counter attacks to use as a base for future expansion, something they lacked due to joining the invasion later. At the same time, the Jade Falcons grabbed worlds nearer the head of the invasion corridor, such as Odessa) and started racing anti-spinwards to try to grab strategic worlds before the Nova Cats could.
The Steel Vipers' appearance meant they got a head start on worlds along the anti-spinwards Coventry region (Periphery March in this time period) and the other two Clans reduced (but didn't stop) efforts in this region and refocused into what is essentially the central front - the worlds leading to Coventry, Tharkad and Donegal. (the latter two are below the truceline, but the truce won't last forever).
-
Once the IS, thanks to Tyra, works out the position of the Homeworlds in general and Huntress in particular, how could they use the information? OTL the Jaguars were picked because they were considered the strongest clan, the most brutal, they knew position of Huntress and they had a good springboard for attack on their occupation zone.
TTL the Sharks would be considered the strongest clan but don't really have an exclusive world (except Albion), while Jaguars are even worse ****** TTL. Not to mention, that DC will not be in condition to take part in any offensive operation and FC will not be able to support operations outside their own frontline.
a trueborn former-Burrock and a freeborn Diamond Shark coming to much the same conclusions.
Ace doing what he does second best, bringing people from different backgrounds to the same viewpoint, albeit in his opposition. What a guy. And he recognises the limits of his skill, which puts him further ahead of many of his peers.
-
Opalescent Reflections
Stacking the Deck
Chapter 9
Atreus City, Atreus
Marik Commonwealth, Free Worlds League
3 October 3054
“It’s getting late,” the Captain-General of the Free Worlds League announced, with a look at his son.
Joshua Marik tried to look rebellious but a yawn crept out past his lips as his body betrayed him. To be fair, the conversation hadn’t been geared to a seven year old, so Wei suspected it was boredom as much as fatigue.
Sophina Marik pushed her chair back. “Say goodnight to the Primus, Joshua.”
The boy gave his mother a weary look and then slipped off his chair. Taking a step back from the table, he gave Wei a creditable bow. “Goodnight to the Primus.” His father chuckled while Sophina looked frustrated.
Wei leant over and ruffled the little boy’s hair. “Blake’s blessing upon you, Joshua. Sleep well.”
The seven year old didn’t seem to know exactly what to make of that, so he accepted his mother’s hand and leant against her once they were out the room, vanishing out of sight down the corridor. A discreetly dressed servant stepped in briefly to take the door handles and then backed out, closing the double-doors behind him.
“I don’t recall being quite so pert around my father,” the Captain-General mused, still staring after his family.
Wei lifted her glass and sipped from it. “If we remembered our childhoods too well, we might die of embarrassment,” she theorized. “Some things are better left forgotten.”
He turned to look at her, tilting his head slightly and then shook his head. “Perhaps. There are few absolutes in the universe.” He lifted his own glass and raised it in silent toast to her. “Wei.”
“Thomas,” she replied and they both drank.
“While formal negotiations will be required,” the Captain-General observed, “I take your presence to mean that you are willing to come to an agreement.”
Wei ran one finger around the rim of her now empty glass. “In principle, yes. The devil, of course, is in the details.”
She watched as he pushed back his chair and walked to the sideboard, selecting a cut crystal bottle. “Over brandy?”
“Why not?” Wei agreed and accepted one of the two glasses that he brought back.
Once both glasses had been half-filled, the man lifted his but looked across it at her rather than drinking. “If I may speak as a Blakist, rather than a Marik, I find the Order’s new closeness with the Federated Commonwealth concerning. Your predecessor’s hostility towards them was unfortunate, certainly, but it now appears that the pendulum may have swung too far in the other direction.”
She nodded slightly. “It has. Unfortunately, the current circumstances give us few options - unless you believe I should throw the Order’s influence behind the Clans?”
“Hardly, but I find it hard to believe that the Federated Commonwealth is the only option.”
Wei toyed with her own glass. “We both know you’re not that naive. In the face of direct invasion, House Kurita had no choice but to make accommodations with the Steiner-Davions. And while I might personally enjoy climbing into that bed given the opportunity, the political implications were inescapable - either ComStar bends our neutrality in their favor or we join hands with the Clans. House Liao’s… temper tantrum underscores their current irrelevance to that decision. It is, realistically, the same decision you made when it came to selling arms to the other houses.” She raised her glass and drank. The brandy was superb, of course.
“The loss of most of the Draconis Combine leaves me with few powerful allies at this time,” the Captain-General said slowly. “If the Fox defeats the Clans, let us say establishing a long term status quo at the truceline… In that case the balance of power would be strongly against the Free Worlds League.”
“In that situation,” she answered, “The Clans would remain a long term threat. I would think the treatments for Joshua would be evidence for you that the interests of the Great Houses need not always be opposed.”
His face tightened, twisting the scars across it. “I am aware that NAIS’ contributions are unmatched in that area. And that my son will have a longer and healthier life than was otherwise likely.”
That was a little dismissive of the Canopian and Terran contributions, some of the latter having been acquired by the Clans. But it was politic to allow NAIS to claim disproportionate credit. “It is amazing, what the Great Houses can accomplish when they work together.” Also frightening, because a century or so of peace had been framed by brutal warfare. (There had been a fascinating paper she’d read, theorizing that the Star League had been collapsing into a second Age of War by the 2720s and that the Amaris Coup had simply accelerated the process). Wei placed her glass down on the table. “The spirit of that cooperation is what I believe ComStar should uphold, rather than the ambitions for a mere throne.”
An outside observer might have thought that she meant the Successor Lords’ ambitions for that throne. The man across the table knew better, and thus it did not need to be said.
“The Star League, between you and me, Wei, is dead and gone. In my view, no one has a valid claim to that any more. Were it politically acceptable, I would remove that claim from my titles.”
She inclined her head. “Indeed. And yet, while the Star League itself is dead, the idea of it still has power. I am sure that the Eridani Light Horse and the Knights of St Cameron would both be as quick to disagree with your statement as the First Circuit or the Clan’s Grand Council. Look at how your own Parliament building harkens back to the imagery of an even older empire.”
“As I said: were it politically acceptable.”
“And yet, were there a new alliance among the Great Houses,” Wei pointed out, “If, hypothetically, the lords of Steiner, Davion, Liao and Kurita were to un-disband the Star League Council to discuss how they were going to try to bring the wayward SLDF back under their control… could you refuse to attend?”
“Of course not,” he admitted. “Parliament would insist, if only because of how ignoring the Star League worked out for the periphery back in Albert Marik’s day. Also I would feel obligated to correct their English. Un-disband? Really?”
“Reform has unfortunate implications,” Wei told him unapologetically.
“I am somewhat familiar with resistance to that idea.” The Captain-General lifted his glass and drank from it at last. When he lowered it, he looked Wei dead in the eye. “On another topic, I haven’t heard from Tommy lately.”
“Tommy?” she enquired and then thought: “Ah, our colleague who kept being mistaken for you.”
“Yes. It was amusing except when we received each other’s personal mail.” He sipped from his brandy again. “Have you heard anything about him?”
“If we’re thinking of the same man, he was transferred back to Terra,” Wei told him evenly. “He has a new job with the war graves commission.”
“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that. Was his health failing?”
“He’s doing much better now. A healthy exercise regime is working wonders.” The real Thomas Marik was on Mars, not Terra, but she didn’t trust this one with the exact details.
“Ah good. I’m pleased to hear it.” He finished his glass. “His last letters suggested that he was thinking of requesting a posting in the Free Worlds League. I unfortunately couldn’t recommend that given how my people tend to treat those with significant cybernetics.” The scarred man rose to his feet. “Another glass?”
“Of course.” She handed hers over for a refill.
“To business,” the Captain-General proposed once they both had full glasses.
“To business,” she agreed and they both drank. “So, I gather that you were hoping to arrange a training agreement such as that we have established with the AFFC recently?”
“It would be reassuring to those who fear that the Order is giving preference to the FedCom,” he agreed. “However, I also wish to discuss technical support with our warship programme, just as I understand you are assisting the Federated Commonwealth Navy.”
Wei nodded in understanding. “We currently have a limited number of Level-III units equipped with clan technology. The intention is to raise a fifth in the near future, which could be posted to the Free Worlds League, but that would be the extent of our ability to field such battalions. It might be possible to transfer some of the units from the Federated Commonwealth at a later date, but that would have to wait a year or two.”
“That would perhaps suffice,” he allowed. “I understand that the units receiving training in the Federated Commonwealth expect to fight Clans so their need is greater than our own.”
“Then I hope you understand that my Order will be hoping for some concessions in exchange.”
The scarred man sighed. “I suppose.”
“We can leave the details to be established in the formal discussions,” Wei allowed. “However, as we recruit the ComGuards up to strength, our own production has been struggling to keep up. I am sure the Precentor Martial will have a list of factories he’d like the priority on purchasing on.”
“I am already committing quite a lot of that production to the export market,” he grumbled. “At this rate the FWLM will get nothing.”
“I am quite sure that that is an exaggeration.”
“And on the warship matter? The only thing worse than the estimated costs for developing them are military projections if our neighbors have that capability and we do not.”
Wei shook her head. “The Clans’ warships have not been all that decisive.”
“I - more to the point, my admirals - think otherwise. The Diamond Sharks’ use of them to prevent units from deploying to or from contested worlds has cost the DCMS severely. Even when the DCA managed to break past them, they often take ruinous losses in the aerospace fighters and assault dropships needed to do so.”
And because of that, vast fortunes are going to be spent on building more warships, she thought. Just like the First Circuit demanding the expansion of our warship fleets. Money that could rebuild worlds ravaged by war spent on the tools to spread more devastation.
And the saddest thing was, she could see their remorseless logic. As long as one faction possessed such vessels, all the others felt the need to do likewise.
“I have no business telling you what your priorities should be,” Wei conceded. “My understanding though is that you are also entering into an agreement with the Capellan Confederation for such developments?”
He moved his hand, sending ripples through the brandy in his glass. “The new Chancellor has approached me on that matter. He is aware that both you and Hanse Davion have agreed to support the establishment of a shipyard at Necromo to supply the St Ives Compact with Indomitable-class corvettes. It’s understandable, I suppose, that he is wary his cousin will employ them against him in the future.”
And since I am supporting one Liao, I can hardly protest that you support another, Wei thought. “If the Capellans will be receiving this technical support, then I would prefer that they are also involved in negotiations rather than benefiting by the backdoor, so to speak.”
The Captain-General shook his head. “Three parties in an agreement would make matters more complicated. What I am suggesting is this: the Chancellor is interested in joint development and construction of six destroyers, divided evenly between our two states - this would give him three warships that are individually more than a match for the corvettes being planned for St Ives, but no real challenge for the numbers that the Federated Commonwealth could bring to bear. Rather than involving your engineers in that, I am hoping to hire them to work on the Zechetinu-class corvette project.”
“Which is… not a joint project with the Capellans.”
“Precisely,” he agreed. “Oh, I am sure that the skills will transfer and I will not be so shameless as to suggest that there will be no trickle-down of benefits that reach the Capellans. But let us keep this simple.”
Wei frowned. “I am certainly in favor of simplicity, but there are some issues about openness.”
The scarred man put his glass down and leant forwards. “Would you like to apply those issues of openness to the Jardine question?”
“If that were to become public, I might have to resign,” she told him. “I can live with that. I am unsure how well your own involvement there would be taken by Parliament.”
They stared at each other and then the Captain-General smiled thinly. “A fair point. I think that even if the Star League’s research on Jardine is publicized, then it would not be very welcome on most worlds within the Free Worlds League. Cybernetics are a problematic issue here. However, given the needs of wounded soldiers, sharing it with those nations fighting the Clans… is on the table.”
Wei was the first to look away. “In principle, I am willing to discuss that as an arrangement.”
“Thank you, Primus.” He did not gloat. “More discreetly… Sophina and I have discussed having more children. Joshua’s health may not support his becoming Captain-General in the future, but I think he would enjoy being an older brother.”
“...I doubt you are inviting me to participate.”
The Captain-General’s expression made it clear she was correct. “I am hoping that ComStar’s Kappa department can rival the Wolf Dragoons when it comes to conception issues.” He passed her a piece of paper.
Wei unfolded it, not expecting to understand the diagnosis. She wasn’t a geneticist. Fortunately, however, it wasn’t discussing the specifics in that manner. She felt her eyes widen. So this was why he had asked about ‘Tommy’. “I will ask our people if we can help with this,” she allowed. “Children are a blessing.”
And apparently Joshua’s siblings might have enough of Thomas Marik’s DNA in them that any comparisons to the rest of House Marik would be plausible, assuming that the request was feasible. Arranging this would be a logistical nightmare…
Sarna Martial Academy, Sarna
Sarna March, Federated Commonwealth
10 November 3054
Victor preferred his quarters in the academy to the official residence, although as a matter of obligation he spent two or three nights a week there. He only taught five days a week and there was no excuse not to handle his ducal duties on the other days. And once or twice a month some evening social occasion would bringing him back at an hour where it made more sense to sleep there and travel back to the academy in the morning.
He’d just got out of the shower and was considering whether to make a start on grading this round papers on the Battle of Camlann, which he felt he had to touch on even thought the chances of seven Clans fighting on a single world again were pretty slim, when a triple ping from his comm alerted him to a priority call.
Grabbing the handset, he accepted the call. “Steiner-Davion.”
“Priority call for you,” the voice of the night clerk informed him. “Patching it through now.”
Great, he was taking an important call in nothing but a towel, “Go ahead.” He moved a slider that physically blocked the camera, then grabbed for the stack of clothes waiting for him in the morning and pulled the undershirt over his head.
“I’d say good morning, son,” a familiar voice greeted him. “But it’s evening for you… or midnight? Are your lights out?” On the small screen, Hanse Davion squinted at the camera.
“I just got out of the shower, Dad.” Victor grabbed his shorts and flung his towel in the direction of the radiator. “Is something wrong?” Had Peter caught a shot to the cockpit or something?!
“Ah, that’s alright then.” His father grinned. “Are you hiding someone having been in their with you.”
“No, but I still don’t flash people who call me, even on a priority call.”
Hanse chuckled, which was some reassurance. He wouldn’t be doing that if there had been a death in the family. “Fair enough.”
Once he met minimal decency, Victor switched the call to his desk terminal which lit up both the screen and the light that warned that that camera was on. With a larger screen, he could see new lines on the First Prince’s face, and more white strands in the famous red hair, but his father’s eyes had the same electric energy as always. “Not that it isn’t a joy to see you but -”
“But I don’t pay the bills for this on a whim,” Hanse confirmed. “I need a colonel for a ‘mech regiment on short notice.”
“Are you asking for recommendations?” Victor asked facetiously, feeling a thrill of excitement at the implications.
“If you don’t feel up to the challenge, I suppose.” His father feigned disappointment. “It’s good to know your limits, son…”
Victor grinned. “You know I won’t say no to that, but why is this coming up all of a sudden?”
“The First Avalon Hussars had a traffic accident of all things,” Hanse told him, sobering. “One damn fool corporal with a heavy foot and Colonel Huntington’s staff car ate a truck to the rear quarter. Killed her instantly, unfortunately, and that’s not a position we can just pull out of a hat.”
“No, I suppose not.” The First Avalon Hussars had been one of the first regiments formed for the Federal Peacekeeping Forces in 2317, and had served for just shy of six hundred years in the FPF and later the AFFS, before the DCMS all but wiped them out. Considered virtually an extension of the Davion Guards, reforming the storied regiment had not been lightly done and it wasn’t a legacy that could just be handed out to anyone.
“Before you worry about you getting it because you’re my son, that isn’t it.” His father waved one finger. “It makes you politically acceptable, but you’re promotable to Colonel as things stand and out of the short list, you’re one of the few who can link up with them before they deploy out.”
Victor sat down heavily on the bed. A new regiment and a combat assignment? Was it Christmas already? “I thought that the new RCTs weren’t rotating forwards this soon?”
“Change of plans,” his father said with a shrug. “The Steel Vipers joining the fighting means we have to cycle in reinforcements faster and the Hussars handled the ComGuards’ Invader Galaxy pretty well. That moves them up the list to be moved in to see if they can do the same to real Clanners.”
He grabbed his pants. “I’m guessing travel plans are being pulled together. How is mother taking it?”
“Not delighted, but she sees the logic. It helps that Peter will be in reserve for a while. The Third Guards gave as good as they got on Arc Royal, but both sides took a mauling there. We’ve pulled them back to Coventry to refit and rebuild them.”
“No injuries?” Victor checked.
“No, he did well enough,” Hanse allowed with a degree of poorly hidden pride. “Field promotion to Hauptmann, so that may have gone to his head. I know I was fairly excitable when I got my first promotion. And we don’t have a Galen Cox in the RCT, despite the best efforts to find one.”
“They broke the mold when they made Galen,” he agreed. His old friend was still second-in-command of the Tenth Lyran Guards ‘mech regiment, last he had heard.
Hanse nodded. “There are other officers that good, but handling royalty is a special skill. You may run into Peter on Coventry, try not to slap him down publicly. But don’t feel that you have to put up with him if he does act out.”
“So that’s the staging point?”
“Central theater,” Hanse agreed. “I can’t tell you where you will be sent after that. The situation is fluid and it’ll still be months before you get there.”
“I’m not completely up to date,” Victor admitted. “I heard we’ve been launching counter-attacks?”
That got a grin from his father. “The Nova Cats and Steel Vipers don’t appear to have learned the same lessons that the Jade Falcons did after Twycross. We probably can’t do the same again but it bought us a little breathing room.”
Three Clans advancing on a broad front was proving rather different from fighting a relatively narrow advance, which was Victor’s past experience. Not all the differences were bad - coordination between the three Clans wasn’t particularly good. But at the same time it left the AFFC spread thin.
“Not that I want to get rid of you, Dad, but is there any other news?”
His father’s lips quirked. “I’m going to be shameless and spend money to talk to you. It might be a while before we meet again.”
“Did Quintus manage to get Kai back onto civil terms with Candace?” he enquired.
“Neither his brother or his grandfather managed that,” Hanse noted. “I can’t really blame him - if Ian had popped up in 3015 saying he’d been hunting down Yorinaga Kurita I’d have probably popped him one on the nose.” He punched the air to illustrate. “Omi seems to be getting some traction though, I guess Combine and Capellan culture have enough similarities that she has a point of reference for both of them.” Then his eyes flicked down to look below Victor’s face and raised a questioning eyebrow.
Looking down, Victor realized that he’d clenched a fist at the thought of Kai and Omi spending time together. He deliberately forced his fingers to relax. “It’s good they have each other as friends,” he forced himself to say and flushed slightly at his father’s questioning look. “Probably also a good thing I’m here and not making an ass of myself,” he admitted ruefully.
“That girl’s really got to you,” his father noted sympathetically. “And even James Sandoval doesn’t think she was trying to - he doesn’t like her much, but I’ll give him credit for trying to be objective on the topic. What’s the secret: you only met her a couple of times.”
“I think I’ve seen more of her by now than you had of Mom before you got married,” Victor pointed out. “We spent a fair amount of time sharing a dropship after Luthien.”
“Mmm.” Hanse’s eyes went distant. “You may have a point. Of course, we corresponded for several years as well.”
“And before you say anything, I am not blind to the politics. I am… trying to keep an open mind about other women,” he said. Forcing himself, really. Too often he found himself comparing the women who attended various functions to Omi. It wasn’t fair to them - or to her, really. She was Keeper of the House Honor, it was even more impossible for Omi to marry him than the reverse was.
“Believe it or not,” his father said slowly, “I know how that feels. I had my own hesitations about your mother, and not just because of the age difference. You know that there were other women in my life.”
“Dad…”
Hanse Davion raised a hand in command and Victor shut his mouth. With evident effort, the older Davion confided: “I was engaged, very briefly, right after Ian died. Dana was… very special. And then I had to watch her die. There is a reason that I was never linked with anyone between then and the announcement of my marriage. I wasn’t living like a monk, but those encounters were… Well, not serious.” He shook his head. “It took a very long time and a very special woman for me to open up again. I am privileged to have known two great loves in my life.”
“You never said anything.”
“There is a glass ornament in my office,” Hanse told him softly. “Only four people know there’s a holo of her projected inside it. Ardan, Ran and now you.” He shook his head. “And whatever ComStar analysts decipher this, I suppose. It isn’t a shameful thing, but I rarely speak of her. My point is, I understand how you feel and my only objections to Lady Kurita are the politics. In other regards I would consider her an excellent match.”
“That doesn’t help, dad.” Victor shook his head. “Get you behind me, temptation.”
“If it is any consolation, my experience does show that there isn’t just one special person for anyone,” Hanse offered compassionately.
“I hope so, because neither of us is so irresponsible as to want to cause a civil war - probably on both sides of the border.” He frowned in thought. “Speaking of which, is there any update on her mysterious half-brother?”
Of all people, Theodore Kurita apparently had a third son that no one knew about, one who had somehow been caught smuggling weapons out of the Commonwealth only to be semi-conscripted into supporting a raiding campaign against the Clans. Conscripted by one of Victor’s distant cousins, in fact.
“He’s on Irurzun as of our last report,” Hanse told him. “How Minoru actually feels about him is hard to say, but he’s not been killed which is a good start.”
“Normally I’d say that was a given, but we are talking about House Kurita.” Victor shook his head. “Omi sent me a letter on the subject of her own feelings, so I’d suppose Minoru’s feeling pretty damn conflicted.”
“Our best projection is that he’ll be announced shortly. House Kurita is usually pretty cagey about revealing the existence of their children until they’re older, so most likely he’ll be introduced as another brother without specifically stating he’s a bastard.”
“Minoru does need an heir,” Victor admitted. “Although he probably wants to make sure that Franklin isn’t going to turn around and usurp his throne.”
“Normally I’d think that was more of a risk,” the First Prince said drolly. “But Ardan pointed out that right now, taking on the Coordinator’s throne isn’t exactly an easy job, and Franklin seems to know it. Adam also says that he was approached at least once by Combine conservatives while they were working together, and he had no time or patience for their aspirations. I don’t particularly wish Minoru ill, but if he does die without another heir, Franklin might be a Coordinator we can live with.”
“You told me when I graduated that you had no intention of launching another war with the Combine,” Victor said cautiously.
“And events have shown that to be a wise decision, if for reasons I would never have guessed.” Hanse shook his head. “I have no idea how things will stand in a year or two - much less ten years from now, but I can’t see the Combine surviving in its previous form. The Capellan Confederation hardened even further after the Fourth Succession War, but I couldn’t say if the Combine will go the same way. My best guess is that it’ll implode or explode if the threat of further invasion goes away… and right now that would just give us an even longer border with the Clans. Not something we need.”
“Not at all,” he agreed. “Thanks for not dying on me, Dad. I don’t want to think what it’d be like if I was in Minoru’s shoes.”
“You’re quite welcome,” Hanse offered drily. “I’m quite happy to put that off for a bit longer.”
Victor ducked his head. “Love you, dad.”
“That, I am glad of.” His father’s eyes softened. “Good luck son. My thoughts, and your mother’s will be with you.”
Then the signal cut off, replaced on the screen by a ComStar logo and a brief glimpse of the time, date, length of call and the cost - which was eye-watering, even to Victor.
He spread his arms wide and fell back to lie on the bed, staring at the ceiling. Another active posting! And command of a ‘mech regiment, probably the most desirable posting for any mechwarrior. After that he’d be a general officer and chances to take the field would be almost non-existent. It was also a fearsome responsibility.
Victor rolled his head to one side and looked at the stack of papers. He should probably get those done - no point leaving them for whoever replaced him. Besides, he wasn’t going to be able to sleep right now. So get the marking done, then make sure all his kit was ready. He would probably hear in the morning about the transport arrangements to get to the First Avalon Hussars’ current post on Liao. It could be anything from tomorrow to the next week before he had to leave, so he’d have to be ready for either.
Oh, he thought. “I’ll need new rank pins.”
-
Serling, Sargasso
Clan Jade Falcon Occupation Zone
3 December 3054
Aidan Pryde felt some degree of accomplishment as he saw a Commando and a Wolfhound sprawled by the country road. “Those marked for pick-up, quiaff?” he asked Horse as the two of them pushed their ‘mechs to race down the road.
His old friend paused, checking reports. “Aff.”
“Good, make sure they are collected before the Steel Vipers forget who claimed what,” he ordered.
The Steel Vipers had ‘offered’ their help in retaking Sargasso from the Fifth Deneb Light Cavalry, and it had seemed better to Aidan to accept that rather than bidding against them for the right to take the world and, at best, being understrength to take on the AFFC forces.
Most of the raids on occupied worlds had been too small to do more than harass the garrisons, but a full RCT had rolled right over the binary of ‘mechs posted to Sargasso to support the administrators and their solahma infantry. In exchange for the help of Star Colonel Kathryn Hartford’s Fifty-First Battle Cluster, Aidan had conceded to share the world and their current destination was right on the dividing line between the two territories.
“It was lousy luck that the Lyrans put their landing zone right between us,” Horse observed.
“I do not think luck had anything to do with it,” he replied after a moment’s thought. “They knew that Hartford and I did not want to risk firing on each other and that coordinating to avoid that would slow our response.” The Deneb Light Cavalry’s dropships had been picking up scattered groups of the RCT for three days now and those that took off last night were probably the last ones.
“Accidentally.”
“What?”
“You and Hartford did not want to risk firing on each other by accident, quiaff.”
Aidan bared his teeth. “Yes. It would be better if it was not an accident.”
Diana’s Star had been able to keep up with the fast moving AFFC force, but only barely. They were responsible for taking down the two ‘mechs now dropping behind Aidan’s Summoner and Horse’s Hellbringer. They were also the only Jade Falcons between the two of them and Steel Viper territory. It meant that whatever incident Hartford insisted on discussing in person had to involve those five mechwarriors.
Up ahead, the small town of Serling marked the boundary - or rather, the river that flowed just to the north-west of it. The report said that the AFFC dropships had been across the river from the town, in Jade Falcon territory.
Smoke was rising and Aidan didn’t recall any industry here that would cause that.
“Looks like things got nasty,” Horse observed, voice tight.
“A lot of different things can get nasty.” A cold worm was snaking through his guts.
There were Steel Viper ‘mechs north of the town. A full Star, two Battle Cobras, two Crossbows and a Summoner that Aidan knew was Hartford’s own.
They weren’t the only ‘mechs around Serling. There were four ‘mechs moving through the wreckage of the north of the town - Diana’s Black Lanner among them, barely recognisable under battered and broken armor - stamping out fires. Quite literally - they were demolishing buildings that were on fire, or had been. Keeping the damage from spreading.
Somehow Aidan doubted that the people who lived in Serling would appreciate the kindness. More likely, the Jade Falcons would be blamed for the fires and everything that came with that.
And then there were the other ‘mechs. Six of them. In no better shape than the Lyran ‘mechs they’d passed earlier. Scattered around on the ground like broken toys.
And every last one of them was on the south-east side of the river.
The scream of jamming was still cutting them off from radio communication, but with line of sight to work with, Aidan was able to punch a laser comm line directly to the battle-scarred Black Lanner. “Star Commander.”
“Star Colonel.” Diana sounded relieved.
“Six on five,” Horse noted. “Maybe this is not suicidal.”
Given the condition of Diana’s Star, the survivors, Aidan was less than confident of that. Against five fresh Steel Vipers, he and Horse would have to do the heavy lifting. Hammer the lighter Battle Cobras first and hope that the heavies could be dealt with afterwards? He was already calculating the strategy, even as he hoped he didn’t have to.
“You appear to be on the Steel Viper side of the river,” he said slowly. “Do you have a report for me, Star Commander?”
“Aff… and neg,” Diana replied. “That is, I have a report. But this is not the Steel Viper side of the river. Not the town.”
“Talk to me Diana.”
“Star Colonel Pryde,” Hartford’s Summoner moved up to the river’s edge. “Your warriors do not seem to understand the terms of our contract to work together to retake this world.”
“I am talking to my officer, Star Colonel Hartford,” Aidan replied, voice flat with anger. “You will be next.”
“Do not keep me waiting,” she replied sharply and he saw that she’d cut the laser comm.
Diana had heard the conversation. “Sir. When I arrived here, the Vipers were leveling the town. I objected.”
“Violently?”
“Not at first, sir.”
“Talk to me, Diana. Tell me what happened before I have to listen to someone else explain it,” he demanded.
“They said that the people here had hidden that the dropships were here. That this was a punishment for their treason. And an example to everyone else on Sargasso.”
Aidan exhaled slowly. “And as it was on Steel Viper territory, it was their business. Not yours.”
“Sir, even if someone here wanted to report it, how could they have? We do not share our comm channels with the civilians, and if they broadcast in the clear… the Deneb Light Cavalry were right here.”
“That they were. So you decided to cross the river into Steel Viper territory and stop them. Despite the agreement I made with Star Colonel Hartford.”
“I challenged their commander to a trial of possession,” Diana explained.
“For Serling.”
“Yes sir.”
“Clever.” He could understand the impulse behind the act, but finding a way under Clan law… Horse might have thought of that. Aidan had a suspicion that he himself might have waded in shooting first.
Or he might have waited and watched, and done nothing. Because it was his duty to the Clan. Because he had struck a bargain and therefore had to keep it.
“I see that you won. How are the people taking it?”
Diana sounded embarrassed. “I have not asked, sir. A child threw something at my ‘mech.”
“And?”
“It was a child. I ignored him.”
Aidan nodded inside his cockpit. “You have won us a quarrel with the Steel Vipers and a town that will hate us. Well done.”
“I am sorry, sir.”
“Do not be sorry. I am… I am proud of you.”
“Same here,” Horse added from his own cockpit. “But it is still a problem.”
Aidan turned his Summoner and waded it out into the river until it was hip deep in the water. The flow of cold water around the legs would draw heat away from the ‘mech - if not as much as if he had heatsinks in there, but that wasn’t an option for a Summoner. And the river’s surface would absorb and deflect shots, making it almost impossible for Hartford to land hits below the waist of his ‘mech - if it came to a fight.
With that done, he spiked Hardford’s Summoner with a comm laser. “So, what can I do for you, Star Colonel.”
“What can you do for me?” she demanded. “I would like this Star of my Cluster back! Five ‘mechs down, and two of the mechwarriors will be unavailable for weeks after their injuries. We had a contract, Pryde!”
“We did.” He waved one arm of his Summoner towards the wrecked buildings. “I admit, I would have been curious in her shoes - seeing a Star of Steel Vipers picking a fight with unarmed buildings.”
“It was none of her business!”
“Perhaps not. As I recall, when your Khans spoke on the Great Debate… before Leo Showers, they said that they believed in rebuilding the Star League with the Great Houses. Is that still your policy?”
“The invasion has caused many changes,” Hartford equivocated. “What has this to do with that?”
“For a Clan who believes - and perhaps rightly - in working with the Inner Sphere, stamping a town into ruins seems unwise. Certainly wasteful,” he added.
“Working with the lords, if that still possible, is one thing. They may see the wisdom in Kerensky’s ways. But that does not equate to letting freebirths act against us with impunity.”
Aidan snorted. “Act against you? I doubt there is a weapon in Serling that could threaten an armored elemental, much less your battlemech.”
“They withheld tactical information. My warriors could have been here to capture the Lyran dropships before their lackluster warriors could escape, if these freebirths had done their duty. Your Clan are too soft on them”.
He could not remember ever being accused of that before. “That remains to be seen. However, Star Commander Diana tells me that she challenged your Star Commander to a trial of possession for Serling. You are disputing that, quineg?”
“Neg. But we had already agreed on a boundary.”
“True. But such agreements are always subject to new trials being launched,” Aidan pointed out. “She issued a challenge, it was accepted and now the town has changed hands as a result. This is nothing out of the ordinary, Star Colonel.”
“And if I challenge you for the rest of this stinking world?!”
He laughed. “Then I will defend our claim, and the Khans of both our Clans will no doubt be furious. Of course, I think Khan Chistu is getting used to my being a troublemaker. How much patience do you think Zalman or his saKhan will have with you?”
Hartford’s Summoner moved up to the riverside. “Freebirth,” she cursed at last.
“Yes,” he agreed. “Diana is freeborn. And she beat -”
“Impossible!” Hartford exclaimed. “She declared herself to be of Bloodhouse Pryde’s lineage! I heard her.” Then her voice grew sly. “Her challenge was under false pretenses!”
Aidan chuckled at the thought. Probably either Hartford or the Star Commander here had refused to take her seriously without that. “Do be careful of your words,” he warned, fingers on his triggers. “Remember, disputing the outcome of a Trial via politics once brought down an entire Clan. You might find it hard to hold onto your rank if you are accused of that.”
There was a hiss across the comms.
“Star Commander Diana is my daughter,” he continued. “Her lineage and right to compete for the Pryde Bloodname has been confirmed and I have every confidence that she will succeed in taking it at the next opportunity. Now, unless you think your Khans will be impressed by you losing an entire Star to a freeborn officer in a squabble over one small town, I suggest you drop this.”
Then he turned his Summoner pointedly towards her and raised the weapon pods. Out of the corner of his eyes, he saw Horse raise the Hellbringer’s PPCs as well. “Or shall we make this a Trial of Grievance here and now?”
For a moment, he thought that Hartford’s pride would push her to issue the challenge.
Then the other Summoner turned away. “You have the town,” she spat. “But not one centimeter more.”
“Bargained well and done,” Aidan Pryde lied, a smile on his face.
-
Well, that's one clanner who clearly doesn't learn! ;D
-
Given all the developments, I presume the Fake Thomas Marik did not intend to get alliance with STL by offering Isis as wife.
-
Opalescent Reflections
Stacking the Deck
Chapter 10
Yamashiro, New Samarkand
Diamond Shark Dominion
9 January 3055
Perhaps as a reminder of their victories, this time the Clan Council had been assembled remotely in the main hall of the palace of Yamashiro, on New Samarkand. Relatively few of the Diamond Shark’s leadership were there, but the world did have the communications infrastructure to support it, and it served as a useful hub for the three frontline galaxies in the Inner Sphere.
Ace found himself projected close to the low dais and was amused to see that this time the projections included whatever the bloodnamed were sitting on for the meeting - with the result being that there were quite a variety of chairs in evidence, from the starkly functional to a bowl-like chair of bamboo that had so much padding that Ace thought he could sleep in it. Two or three of the Council were even using their cockpits, although he hoped none of them were going to engage in actual combat during the meeting.
The merchant bring projected onto the main floor of the hall was not a retired warrior, although he did have the look of a Sennet. Possibly he had a trueborn washout in his recent ancestry - Ace wondered if the man might have relatives who might use his own example to try to get into the warrior caste. He had thought his situation would remain essentially unique, but there had been some loud squawking on the ChatterWeb about a Jade Falcon (of all Clans!) freeborn trying for a bloodname.
The woman had failed, but reportedly she had defeated at least three trueborns to get that far. It would have interesting implications if they won, and apparently some Scientists were being asked harsh questions about why there was so little gap between trueborns and certain freeborn.
“It is technically feasible to adjust the banking system to match Clan practices,” the man confirmed. “However, it would not be practical to force everyone on the occupied worlds to liquidate their current hard currency in favor of the Kerensky. Simply manufacturing enough coins would be a considerable expense and it is almost certain that Kuritan currency would be circulated under the table - an illicit economy operating alongside our own.”
“That would be extremely damaging,” the saKhan observed speculatively. Bikendi Vewas was over a thousand light years away but he was clearly still paying attention to events in the Inner Sphere. “If I recall my basic economics classes, the value of a currency is as much psychological as it is material. A second currency, one used in defiance of Clan law would be… subversive.”
The merchant nodded. “It would also make control over the economy spongy, if you take my meaning. Such transactions would be hidden and therefore untrackable.”
“You make it sound as if our currency is not trusted,” Angus Labov asked, from where he was placed near Ace.
“In essence, it is not. The fact that work credits expire if they aren’t spent is apparently too much of a step,” the man confirmed. “To some extent it is a matter of education as much as it is of trust. Under House Kurita’s rule there has been an economic underclass of those denied employment for various reasons, such as age or out of petty retribution. There is therefore a cultural belief in the need to accumulate and retain wealth as a cushion against such a fate.”
Ace wasn’t entirely sure that the Clan system worked as well as was being implied here, but he wasn’t going to argue that the Combine’s approach was better.
“Are you suggesting that we cannot convert the Dominion to the Clans’ economic system, quineg?” Evangeline Clarke challenged. The galaxy commander scowled challengingly at the merchant, who gulped nervously.
He shook his head. “That is not a simple question. In the short term, the answer is no: we cannot. That is not to say that we should not do so eventually,” he added hastily. “Only that doing so right away is out of reach.”
“Then what does the Merchant Council suggest?” Barbara Sennet enquired pointedly from the dais.
“Once we dismiss a short term transition, this leaves two alternatives. Firstly, we carry out the transition as soon as it can practically be done, regardless of cost.” The merchant factor shook his head. “Those costs would involve massive economic dislocation, with impact on almost every industry, causing widespread discontent with our rule and very probably widespread rebellions against us. Or, finally, we could wait until the population has been educated in the advantages of our economic models, bringing in the processes in a gradual fashion to minimize backlash.”
“And in either of these cases,” the Khan observed, as whispers went around the council. “There would need to be an interim period when the Dominion would functionally operate under Inner Sphere economics.”
“That is unacceptable,” came a protest from those placed further away from the dais. Ace wasn’t really surprised to see that it was Annika Enders. “If the Clan chooses to indulge unclanlike practises among our civilians, with the subversion of our ideals, the other Clans may see us as breaking the Unity. This could lead to censure for the Clan, perhaps even to abjuration or absorption.”
“Annika,” chided Angus. “When our merchants say that something cannot be done, they mean it cannot. I have spent time as a merchant and I understand their value to our Clan. They do not try to tell warriors how to wage war, and we should never expect that our understanding of economics is greater than those who have spent their lives mastering that field.”
“Then why allow retirement from the warrior caste into civilian caste?” the young warrior asked. “You were still capable of serving the Clan as a warrior, but you stepped away from that to… were you simply dabbling as a merchant? Pretending to be one, while retaining your seat here?”
“Warriors who retire into other castes provide a valuable bridge between the castes,” Angus snapped. “Most serve as I do, in roles that make use of that interaction rather than claiming that I am able to match the expertise of those who have studied their fields for decades.”
“Even after years in your Clan, I cannot understand that decision,” she replied. “I recognise that it is accepted and that the Grand Council does not condemn it, but I see no reason that someone who is no longer a warrior should still be seated on the Clan Council. If you are not going to end your own life, you should have been stripped of your bloodname so that it can be held by a warrior!”
There was a hiss of anger from several corners. Even with the losses in battle, the Diamond Sharks had not far short of a thousand bloodnamed warriors present and roughly four hundred of them had been members of Clan Burrock. There would have been more, pushing numbers past the allowed one thousand, but dozens of bloodrights had been retired or reaved as a result of current or previous holders being involved in Dark Caste dealings. While those directly involved had been executed, even those personally blameless had been stripped of their bloodnames and sent to garrison units.
It was theoretically possible for those warriors to enter another Trial of Bloodright but the chances of success were minimal - there had been a string of suicides, and Ace suspected that quite a number of lethalities in trials within those units were functionally also suicides. It was a sore spot for all the former Burrocks and Annika had just jammed her thumb into that wound.
Angus laughed derisively at the suggestion. “That would have made it rather awkward for those of us who have been recalled from reserve to serve as warriors.”
“You complain about Diamond Shark ways,” accused Evangeline, “But our ways must be superior to those of Clan Burrock, or how was it that one of our freeborn warriors defeated you so easily to claim the Enders bloodname?”
Annika’s face went red since her only out here would be to praise Ace, and she would probably rather die than do that.
“Or if that is just your personal failure,” the galaxy commander added, “Clan Diamond Shark won the second place among all the Clans when contending for a place in Operation Revival. Your former Clan was among the first to be removed from consideration.”
Ace and Angus both rolled their eyes as the ‘Blood Angel’ casually inflamed the anger of every former Burrock in the Council. Who needed political enemies when she was an ally.
“Our ways are superior and you should embrace them,” Clarke concluded triumphantly.
Showing that she had a backbone, if not sense, Annika did not back down. “I do not challenge the absorption, and I do acknowledge that your ways have been upheld by the Grand Council. But to reject the Clan economic system is something that has never had such consent in any Clan. How far can a Clan stray from the laws and customs laid down by the Founder before we can no longer be seen to be a Clan in the eyes of the others. There has been too much compromise and a line should be drawn.”
Ace wasn’t surprised to see that this drew home. Since his argument with Val, he had tested the waters and found that even those who admired his accomplishments personally still felt more comfortable with the more conservative threads of thought. Granted, Diamond Shark conservatives would still be a poor fit for many other Clans, but there were still customs they wished to cling to - both those shared with other Clans and those unique to their own.
“There, I concede, you have a point,” Clarke agreed reluctantly. “I do not question our merchants’ assessment that an immediate transition is not possible - any more than if they asked me to make a Dire Wolf outrun a Fire Moth. But there is a sound argument for doing this as soon as it is possible.”
Barbara Sennet shook her head and looked at the merchant who had been discreetly silent as the warriors debated. “Could you give us a timeframe for what the Merchant Council sees as medium and long term for these purposes?”
He pursed his lips. “Assuming no major military operations that would impact production priorities and the necessary shipping - and no further expansion of the Diamond Shark Dominion… we could begin the transition in two years. In the event of other demands, we could be looking at as many as five years from today. Following which… I would say five years to complete the necessary infrastructure. Much of which, I must stress, would almost certainly require the support of the touman. Precisely how the anticipated insurrections would be dealt with is, of course, a Warrior matter.”
“So the long term consideration would have it done by the time the Truce of Camlann expires?” asked Angus. “That seems more optimistic than I had expected.”
“Ah?” the merchant said in surprise. “My apologies for any confusion, Star Colonel. That was the medium term estimate.”
There were startled noises from the less aware warriors. Ace, for his part, suspected Angus of being deliberate in his ‘misunderstanding’.
“The alternative, which is the Merchant Caste’s recommendation, is to spend the next twenty to thirty years laying the groundwork, particularly in terms of education - although the infrastructure can also be brought up to the needed levels over that time. After this there would be a ten year period of gradual transition, which would be considerably eased by the majority of the working population having grown up under our rule and having a much deeper trust in the Clan’s obligation to them than is currently the case.”
“What you are saying is that most of the Clan Council will not live to see the Dominion operate as a proper part of the Clan,” exclaimed Bikendi Vewas.
The merchant exhaled slowly. “What constitutes a proper part of the Clan is another matter, Khan Vewas. The vast majority of the Merchant Council will also no longer be active by the end of this process, but that was not a consideration. A successful transition that does not make the Dominion a net drain on our Clan’s resources was.”
“A lot of things can change in thirty years,” Ace mused, glancing at Angus.
“They can indeed,” the Star Colonel replied under his breath. “You might need to make a decision, Ace. The vote on whether to hit the Outworlds will be close, but I do not think the Khan will bend on that even if you offer your vote in favor of the longer view on this - because she knows she will have your support there. But all the other favors we have been pulling together are only going to give us a voting bloc on one issue. And this issue is leaning towards now with the medium view being an accepted compromise.”
Ace closed his eyes for a moment, envisaging worlds from New Samarkand to Richmond rising up against the Diamond Sharks. “I see you have a preference.”
Angus nodded. “We cannot get both. So are you going to do the intelligent thing and agree with me?”
Nile River, Qanatir
Periphery March, Federated Commonwealth
28 February 3055
Unsurprisingly, Aidan had been punished for siding with Diana over the Serling incident. He did think that being detached to liaise with the Steel Vipers was cruel and unusual though.
As he studied the stiff back of Star Colonel Ivan Sinclair, he could at least be sure that he wasn’t the only one suffering. He’d been forewarned that taking Horse would be unwise as Sinclair was very definitely not one of the more liberal Steel Vipers and detested freeborn warriors.
After considering his options, Aidan had made his decision on a simple logic: leaving a freeborn Star Captain in charge of the Gyrfalcon Guards would probably lead to more friction with the rest of the galaxy, and he didn’t have many experienced Star Captains. With the choice reduced to two, he had elected to appoint Star Captain Taman (currently one bout into the trial of bloodright for a vacant Malthus bloodright) as the acting commander as operations in this star cluster and bring the rather more senior alternative with him.
“I have seen tidier formations in sibko parade marches,” Joanna observed as she watched the Steel Vipers trinary fan out across Qanatir’s rolling hills.
“Well, one of those sibkos was mine,” he pointed out, watching the Steel Vipers fume. Perhaps Horse would have been the lesser evil…
His old falconer snorted. “If you are trying to uphold your sibko as an example, you have no experience of them,” she grumbled. “I will not say that you were the worst, but it was a stiff competition.”
“I was expecting more opposition for a command world,” he allowed. “But if their bid was accurate, most of the local defense force was defeated on other worlds already.”
“I would not be astonished if the AFFC had falsified their bid,” Sinclair interjected, turning back from the display screens of his pre-fab command center. “However, it was my Thirty-Ninth that broke the back of the Qanatir March Militia on Kwangjong-ni.”
Joanna snorted. “A grand accomplishment.”
“It was not without effort,” the Steel Viper agreed, and then realized a moment later that Joanna’s compliment had been rather less than sincere.
Aidan shook his head. “While we cannot routinely take Inner Sphere bids at face value, they do occasionally provide useful information. And here on the fringes of the Inner Sphere, it is relatively unlikely that they have substantial reinforcements available.”
Sinclair glared at Joanna and then turned back to Aidan. “That is my own thinking. Our main force will smash what remains of the March Militia, while the flanking force secures the dropport and prevents their escape.”
Joanna said nothing, which was close to an actual compliment from her.
For his part, Aidan looked over at the displays. “That seems like a sound tactic - cutting off all avenues of retreat obviously can lead them fighting ferociously, but if they do not realize that there is no escape then pushing the defenders into a retreat can exhaust them before that point is reached.” He gestured. “What route do you intend to send them along?”
Sinclair turned to the techs. “Bring up a larger tactical map.”
The display flickered and switched to a map of the region around the planetary capital. As was so often the case, it was a sea port. The blue marks of the three Stars of the main advance were pushing northwards along the coastal plain, with scattered red markers indicating points of resistance.
Sinclair indicated another blue dot moving along further in land. “We are moving them up through this valley here. It is thinly populated and damage from pirate raids is reported as leaving little communications infrastructure between the capital and these farms. It will take time for any warnings to reach the Militia.
That seemed sound enough to Aidan, but he couldn’t help but think there was something wrong. He couldn’t put his finger on it though.
“I look forwards to seeing another victory over the Scavenger Lords,” he said politely and then indicated a sideroom that wasn’t currently occupied - probably intended for briefings. “May my aide and I use the screens there to observe, rather than disturbing your staff.”
Looking pleased to be rid of them, Sinclair gestured towards the door. “Of course.”
Joanna scowled as she entered the side room. “There is something wrong with their strategy.”
He waited for the door to finish closing and then looked over at her. “What did you notice?”
She snorted. “Nothing, but you are worried and you are more observant than Sinclair, so something is wrong.”
Aidan gave her a sour look. “When you are complimenting me, however back-handedly, something is certainly wrong.” He turned on the display screen and found that it had the ability to repeat the screens outside - and to access immediate tactical data. “Unfortunately, I do not know what bothers me about this.”
The Star Captain pushed him aside and brought up the map. “This is what you were looking at when you started frowning. Something about the flanking force?”
“Not precisely. Five ‘mechs might be able to get up that valley without drawing too much notice,” Aidan admitted. “Particularly since they will have the cover of night for most of it. Maybe there is something else about the terrain…”
Joanna ran her finger down the west side of the city, or what had been the west side before a pirate raid burned out the industrial districts a hundred years before. “Perhaps this region will be mined. If the flank force is stopped, the Militia might have a chance to reach the drop port.”
“I would not count on it. The area is too open, without choke points. They would need too many mines to cover that much ground.” Aidan frowned. “No, it is the valley, I think. Do we have any more maps of it?”
With something to focus on, Joanna didn’t bother complaining. She opened the directories of maps available for the region and brought up a more detailed map. “Everything seems to flow inland from this valley,” she noted.
“Which is exactly what I would not expect. Even with the industrial zones damaged, power lines and communications would logically have been connected through to the city.”
“Perhaps there was contamination.” She cycled through alternative maps.
“Wait!” Aidan snapped as he saw something. “Back to the last one.”
Joanna blinked and reversed the cycle.
“That’s it,” Aidan declared, indicating a line on the map. “I knew there was something, I saw this map when we were considering bidding for Qanatir.”
He yanked open the door. “Sinclair!”
The Steel Viper turned. “What now, Pryde?”
Aidan saw the flanking force on the map and pointed at the display. “You might want to redirect them, Star Colonel. They are about to cross a line.”
Sinclair shook his head, but didn’t try to dismiss him. “What are you talking about?”
“That route you indicated cuts across the edge of the ComStar enclave.”
“I am aware,” Sinclair replied moodily. “They have no significant forces present and there is nothing of significance in the area, so they are unlikely to react anyway.”
Aidan arched an eyebrow. “Are you sure of that?”
“It is a calculated risk, Pryde,” the other Star Colonel grumbled. “I recognise that the ComGuards are a formidable force, but they are reported as having less than a Star of troops present, mostly infantry.”
Joanna rubbed her chin. “Do we not have standing orders about not provoking ComStar?”
“We do,” Aidan added. “But I take it that Clan Steel Viper has other orders.”
“I have discretion on this matter,” Sinclair confirmed.
“Sir.” One of the technicians turned his chair, one hand gripping the side of his headset. “You have a call from Precentor Qanatir.”
Sinclair frowned and checked the map. “We have barely crossed into their territory. They should not have noticed yet.”
“Well they are a communication company,” Aidan offered sarcastically. “Perhaps they are good at communicating data?”
The commander of the Thirty-Ninth Battle Cluster scowled at Aidan and turned towards the tech. “Put the call on the screen.”
The main screen lit up with the face of a woman wearing the hooded robe of a ComStar precentor. While the hood cast much of her face into shadow, Aidan saw a nasty looking scar across her jaw. She was standing in a command center similar in size and shape to the one they were in, though it seemed much more established.
“Star Colonel Sinclair,” the Precentor greeted in a frosty tone. Then she turned her face slightly in Aidan’s direction. “And you would be Star Colonel Pryde.”
“I am honored to be recognised. And you must be Precentor… Carrington?” he asked, hoping the intelligence files from the watch were correct.
“Precentor Carrington was recently reassigned, although I appreciate the attempt to remain current on our personnel.” She tilted her head in acknowledgement. “I am Precentor Jeanne D’Antonio.” Then she turned sharply to Sinclair. “We meet again, Star Colonel.”
He blinked. “I do not recall…”
“I was previously a member of the ComGuards,” she replied. “I was required to transfer to a less active arm of the Order after I was injured on Camlann. Fighting the Thirty-Ninth Battle Cluster, as it happens.”
“What a coincidence,” Sinclair observed tersely, probably not enjoying the reminder. “But I doubt it is why you have contacted me.”
“Correct.” D’Antonio leant forwards slightly. “Star Colonel, your forces have violated ComStar’s enclave borders. Remove them, or they will be removed.”
“Star Colonel,” Aidan warned, gesturing to mute the call.
Sinclair made a throat-cutting gesture to the tech, who hit a control. “Muted, sir.”
“Well, Pryde?”
Aidan gave him a warning look. “If the intelligence reports didn’t report a change of Precentor, are you sure about the ComGuard forces?”
Sinclair paused, thought about that and then drew back his lips in a snarl. “You have,” he allowed, “A point.” He pointed at the tech, who touched the control again. “My apologies, Precentor. There must have been a… navigational error. I will have our forces pulled back and ensure this does not happen again.”
D’Antonio stepped forwards slightly, hood slipping just enough to let light flicker off what had to be artificial eyes. “You disappoint me, Star Colonel.”
“What?”
“Pryde,” she clarified. “I suppose that I must accept that apology. However, there will be a ten percent surcharge on any messages sent by the Thirty-Ninth Battle Cluster for the next year. Even accidents have consequences.” Her call cut off abruptly
“You could not have let them get themselves interdicted?” Joanna asked as Sinclair snapped orders, between irritated looks at Aidan.
Aidan shrugged. “Interdicted, yes. But if they decided to attack the command center and we defended ourselves? That might blow back on our Clan.”
Joanna was still trying to find a fault in that when Sinclair snapped and demanded that they go back to the side room and let him think. That finally satisfied her, to Aidan’s relief as he would be sharing a relatively small room with her for the next few hours.
He would have to remember punishments like this, next time he had to discipline someone. Khan Chistu was considerably more creative than Pershaw had been.
-
Dali, Tamar
Clan Wolf Occupation Zone
18 March 3055
Ulric’s face was frozen in a mask of disapproval as voices clamored for attention within the repurposed chapel.
“We did not come here to rule a sliver of the Inner Sphere,” Dalk Carns declaimed, his voice managing to cut above the shouts both applauding the loremaster and decrying him for his other words. “Nor to become just another Successor State. We are the Clans! We are the Star League!”
“What do you suggest we do?” Erik demanded. “The truce has another eleven years to run. When it expires, yes, then we can move on Terra and claim our destiny as the ilClan. In the meantime we must prepare.”
“Wait, as our warriors age and our skills atrophy?” challenged Carns. He was old enough that he might very well no longer be able to fight when the truce ended in 3066. “Wait as new generations of our warriors have no chance to prove themselves. Look at the Sharks, look at the Falcons and the Cats.” He pulled off his gloves and slapped them together. “If even the Steel Vipers have warriors with more experience than ours then would we be the ilClan in the end? Would we even deserve it?”
Natasha Kerensky rose to her feet.
A mistake, Ulric thought. Better to let him burn out first, but there was no reining Natasha in at times.
“That is why we should take Rasalhague,” she proposed. “The Smoke Jaguars are making a total botch of their occupation zone. Give our warriors their war, against the Smoke Jaguars. Prove they are unworthy to lead any future advance on Terra. Leo Showers still thinks he can reclaim his position as ilKhan, it is time to make it clear to everyone that he is nothing but a failure.”
There were shouts of support from all through the hall at that. Rallying anger at the Smoke Jaguars was not hard among Clan Wolf.
But Carns shook his head. “I see your thinking, Natasha. And it is true that the Smoke Jaguars are a blight upon the Clans. But there is something you do not account for. The Inner Sphere is fighting far more effectively than they did before. Eleven years from now, they will have been sharpened by years of battle against the Falcons and Sharks. There are already reports of them developing their own versions of Omnimechs - not yet the equals of ours, but great steps towards that level.” The loremaster paused. “Today, we could carve our way to Terra. Five years from now, with many of our mechwarriors and elementals barely blooded, and that against Smoke Jaguars who have grown fat fighting mere insurgents? That is less certain. And if we wait twice that long…”
“No truce!” someone shouted from amid the Crusader ranks. “No truce!”
The room descended into another round of shouting and Ulric remained quiet, counting who was shouting what. The numbers were not disastrous… but they were not good either.
Vladimir Ward managed to make himself heard: “We must strike now! We were victorious on Camlann! Why let other Clan’s failures hold us back? Invade! Invade now!”
The shouts of “Invade now” reinvigorated what might have been a declining chorus of support from the Crusader’s on the far right of the room. Ulric frowned. This might get out of hand. He was about to signal some of his supporters to start pointing out the logical flaws, when a text message from Erik popped up on the small screen of his private messages.
It was a real strain not to look concerned at the message. It wasn’t that bad, was it?
Unfortunately, the next call to speak was from Erik’s own camp - or rather, it was a defector from that middle ground. Dwillt Radick was a Star Colonel in Gamma Galaxy, whose officers were for the most part Wardens… but he had slipped steadily into Erik’s camp. Now he went further as he called for a vote.
Even Dalk Carns could tell the situation was out of control now, but it was too far gone as younger bloodnamed behind him took up the call.
Ulric tapped a message of conditional agreement to Erik’s thoughts, before messaging Natasha. Hopefully this wouldn’t go far enough to need the precautions that the three had discussed already, but if they did then being ready would be required.
Debate within a Clan Council was one thing, but a formal vote was another. The results would be a matter of formal record, and unlike mere debate, that could not be kept from the other Clans reliably.
Rising to his feet, Ulric left the other preparations to Natasha. He had to take the lead of this now. “This is the Council of Clan Wolf,” he declared firmly, taking a step forward. “Not a marketplace or beerhall. We do not decide our affairs by who shouts loudest, but through our wit… and our skill.” He reached up and stroked his beard as those with some sense of gravitas ceased trying to be heard over their neighbors. “Dwillt Radick, did I hear correctly that you call for a vote, quiaff?”
The Star Colonel drew himself up. “My Khan, whatever you heard, that is what I said.”
“And what would you have us vote on?” He held his hand up for silence from the rest of the room. “No, let him speak. We will have no lack of clarity of this. Are you endorsing the proposed operation to secure Rasalhague, or one of the other ideas that have been raised?”
Radick looked nervous with all eyes upon him, but he squared his shoulders deliberately. “I propose that we renounce the Truce of Camlann and strike at Terra!” he called out loudly. “I call for a vote on this matter.”
Bloody fool! Ulric had hoped that this would be headed off by offering him an out, but there were muffled cheers from behind Dalk Carns - though they were quickly called to order by the Loremaster.
“It is the right of any of our Bloodnamed to propose a vote,” Ulric allowed. “Normally, through submitting the request formally before the Council meets but that is a convention and not the law.” He scanned the room, and out of the corner of his eye saw that Natasha was working at her console, sending message after message. Fortunately, all eyes were on him. And in the crowd, Erik was similarly hunched over.
Not too late to abort this, he thought.
“I oppose this measure,” he said firmly. “One Clan alone might take Terra, but holding it would be another matter. And our links back even to Tamar, much less the homeworlds will be a strain.”
Marialle Radick rose to her feet from the cluster of younger warriors. Unlike most she did not try to shout, merely waited to be acknowledged. When she alone was doing so, there was no real option. Ulric gestured for her to speak.
“My Khan, since the vote is called, let it be done.”
Ulric felt a shadow go over him. “The vote is called. Dalk.”
The Loremaster came to his feet. “A vote of aye shall be to renounce the truce and to have the touman readied for a resumption of the invasion. Planning of such a resumption and the movement of troops will still be required,” he added with a cautionary gesture that was far too little and far too late. “A vote of nay upholds the truce, and therefore opposes any renewed invasion at this time.”
“You may cast your votes now,” the Khan ordered. The votes were gathered electronically - ironically by the same side-channels being used by Natasha and Erik to ready their people for the worst case scenario.
In the air between the Khans and the seated warriors, columns appeared - one in green for the aye votes and red for the nays. At first the columns seemed to grow equally, early votes from the most fervent believers in each view. Ulric added his own vote and as the less eager voted, he was relieved to see the red moving faster, taking the lead.
Up went the green. Up and up went the red. The vote was going his way.
But fear congealed in Ulric’s heart. Because red wasn’t winning by enough.
It wasn’t enough to have a majority. It had to be a crushing one. Four or five to one. Enough that only a fool or a desperate warrior would call for a Trial of Refusal.
Dalk Carns knew that, and for all his many many flaws, he had been probably begging everyone he could think would sway to vote against. Not now. It was too early for him. He couldn’t put his own vote against it, that would alienate the core of his support - the young and angry. But if enough older and wiser heads remembered that Clan Wolf’s Crusaders could not afford to move now, not when the other Crusaders were for the most part otherwise engaged.
But votes continued to trickle in and the green never stopped climbing.
Until it did. Half as high as the nay votes? A little under. But not enough. Nowhere near enough.
There were times Ulric thought that the Bloodnamed of his Clan Council was made up of morons. He was revising that estimate right now… and not in a good direction.
Looking across the chamber he saw Erik’s face was white. He didn’t want this any more than Ulric did… but there was no longer a choice. These numbers would leak, it was inevitable. And the Grand Council would go spare.
Kerensky’s own Clan had come close to voting in favor of rebelling against a Grand Council decision.
“I call for a -”
“No!” Dalk snarled before Vlad Ward could try. “There will be no Trial of Refusal. Not on this. Not with odds like this.”
“We can win!” the young warrior hissed, eyes narrowed fanatically.
“You can gut the Clan is what you can do,” Natasha said conversationally. She gave Ulric a little nod. She had given the orders then. Twenty percent had been the cutoff, and she hadn’t been about to wait. Erik must be doing the same. Ulric would have done the same in their shoes.
He was not ready for this.
“The only way you would win is if you killed close to half the Clan, because none of us will bid low on this,” the saKhan continued, voice low and contemptuous. “And even if you didn’t… you would destroy whatever you led to ‘victory’, because you utter fools just voted to break the Unity.”
A chill went through the room. Dead silence.
And Ulric nodded to those who looked at him.
“The Grand Council voted to accept the terms proposed by ComStar,” he reminded them. “And those terms are binding on every Clan. This is not an internal matter of one Clan.”
“Maybe you cubs can tear us down. Maybe you can even make it to Terra.” Natasha’s scornful voice made it clear how likely she thought that was. “But that doesn’t leave you as ilClan. It leaves Clan Wolf abjured. Our homeworld enclaves seized. The Smoke Jaguars free to seize our occupation zone. And our touman surrounded on every side by Successor Lords who know they finally have a chance to loot Terra without ComStar stopping them.”
Dwillt Radick slumped into his seat. “Why… why did you not say that?”
“Because you called the vote,” Ulric said mercilessly. “And you,” he stabbed a finger towards Marielle, who was white-faced. “You insisted on no further debate.” He paused. “The duty of a Khan is not to be the only member of the Clan Council who thinks!”
“I think it would be best,” Carns said into the silence, “That we strike this vote from the official record.”
“Do you propose,” Ulric said quietly, “That we then forbid every bloodnamed warrior from being bid in trials against other Clans? Because as soon as one of us becomes isorla, then we can be questioned… and this Council’s position on the issue of the Truce of Camlann is going to be a subject of some interest.” He shook his head. “We cannot hide this, we can only own it… and take the necessary steps to preserve Clan Wolf.”
“What are you talking about?” Katya Kerensky was his own second generation descendant. Smart, moderate, not loud enough to be one of Natasha’s proteges, but not in Erik’s camp either. She’d understood, Ulric thought. But she didn’t see the answer that he had.
He almost wished that he hadn’t.
“It is my duty as Khan,” he intoned solemnly, “to protect the Clan from enemies internal and external. This… foolishness is clearly the former.”
“Are you suggesting some sort of… purge?” Vladimir Ward came to his feet pugnaciously, trying to count how many of those present were in his camp.
Ulric shook his head. “Not in the sense that you appear to suspect. It is within the authority of a Khan to deem that there is an irreconcilable divide within their Clan. And take that divide to the logical conclusion.” He steeled himself. “I hereby declare the formation of Clan Zeerga, independent of Clan Wolf. And I assign all those who voted in favor of this motion to that Clan.”
The room was rocked by howls of disbelief. Vlad was not the only one on his feet now. There was even a surge of warriors towards the dais, perhaps hoping to overpower Ulric and Natasha. That surge cut off almost immediately as two Elementals of the Golden Keshik entered from the side doors of the chapel, their suits barely fitting through the door.
It was obvious suicide to try to attack an armed Elemental with no weapons save sidearms, and at least now they saw that, Ulric thought. Where was that thinking earlier?
“I will allow unblooded warriors to join you, if they so wish,” he continued. “Enclaves will be assigned… somehow. We will see you armed and otherwise equipped to survive as a Clan. The Scientist Caste will no doubt have a great deal to say about deciding the disposition of our genetic legacies…”
That was another nightmare that he was going to have to go through. He had planned everything that he could without actually talking to most of the people affected… not that he could have met everyone affected by this if he lived to be a hundred. Millions of civilians would find themselves assigned to a new Clan simply because they were in an enclave that was more or less arbitrarily given to the Zeerga.
“The traditions, livery and so forth will be for you to decide.”
“I am a Wolf!” Vladimir pushed forward, suicidally courageous if either of the Elementals chose to fire but he didn’t quite try to get across the rail dividing the Khans’ dais from the rest of the room. “You cannot force us out of the Clan.”
“I see no other way.” Ulric met the young mechwarrior’s gaze. “Oh, and if you are thinking of a Trial of Refusal… we will fight augmented… and I said we would give you equipment to get started as a Clan, not that you could keep what you have. So you do not have a ‘mech to fight in. Which really would make it a very short trial.”
Dalk Carns buried his face in his hands.
“One day I will kill you,” the most junior Ward warned angrily. “This is not over.”
“No. It is barely beginning.” He jerked his chin and Vlad took the hint, turning and walking away. Not to his seat, out of the chamber entirely.
Natasha hiked up one leg, resting ankle on knee while she slouched in her throne. “There are guards now on all hangars,” she announced matter-of-factly. “Orders for new assignments - or transport back to the homeworld for those who are no longer Wolves - will be forthcoming. This will be dealt with as quickly and cleanly as we can arrange.” Then she clapped her hands together. “Now vamos! Get out, Zeerga. This is the Wolf Clan Council and you have no place here anymore.”
The holographic representatives of the new Clan winked out almost as one. Those here in the flesh followed Vladimir slowly and reluctantly. The handful of Wolves still sat on the far right looked more like prey than predator, realizing how isolated they now were.
Ulric saw Phelan speaking quietly to the towering Evantha Fetladral, trying to understand what the implications were. The elemental seemed uncertain, for the perfectly understandable reason that this had never been done before.
“Our first order of business is electing a new loremaster,” Ulric announced, trying to hide his worry. “I nominate Erik Kerensky, do we have a second?”
There were and the vote that followed was almost overwhelming.
We have unity again, Ulric thought. But at what cost?
-
Well, duh, actions do have consequences. Rash actions even more so...
Also nice to see that Vlad Ward got kicked out of the clan much earlier before he could pull Clan Wolf down to the shitter what with the unreasonably aggressive and hegemonial end Clan Wolf has in Canon with the so called "Wolf Empire".
-
“It is technically feasible to adjust the banking system to match Clan practices,” the man confirmed. “However, it would not be practical to force everyone on the occupied worlds to liquidate their current hard currency in favor of the Kerensky. Simply manufacturing enough coins would be a considerable expense and it is almost certain that Kuritan currency would be circulated under the table - an illicit economy operating alongside our own.”
“That would be extremely damaging,” the saKhan observed speculatively. Bikendi Vewas was over a thousand light years away but he was clearly still paying attention to events in the Inner Sphere. “If I recall my basic economics classes, the value of a currency is as much psychological as it is material. A second currency, one used in defiance of Clan law would be… subversive.”
The merchant nodded. “It would also make control over the economy spongy, if you take my meaning. Such transactions would be hidden and therefore untrackable.”
“You make it sound as if our currency is not trusted,” Angus Labov asked, from where he was placed near Ace.
“In essence, it is not. The fact that work credits expire if they aren’t spent is apparently too much of a step,” the man confirmed. “To some extent it is a matter of education as much as it is of trust. Under House Kurita’s rule there has been an economic underclass of those denied employment for various reasons, such as age or out of petty retribution. There is therefore a cultural belief in the need to accumulate and retain wealth as a cushion against such a fate.”
Ace wasn’t entirely sure that the Clan system worked as well as was being implied here, but he wasn’t going to argue that the Combine’s approach was better.
Ace isn't the only one. And I get that it's probably canon, but I can't see how anyone from outside the Clan system could possibly see that as not being an oppressive system, either. Work credits expiring just seems to increase the likelihood of an economic underclass getting literally starved out in the event they become too injured or are otherwise unable to work. It also helps explain why the life expectancy for the Clan working castes is so damn low.
If I were a Spheroid, there's no way I could see accepting such a system.
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Did you drop a "not" out that Gio? ???
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Did you drop a "not" out that Gio? ???
Yes. Fixed.
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"Zeerga"?
.... is a predatory species native to the "homeworld" of Clan Wolf (though it is unclear what planet the author considered to be Clan Wolf's homeworld as of 3052). Nothing else is explained about the creature. The reference to a "bull" challenge and a "foal" seems to indicate a largish animal invoking comparison with bovine or equine Terran animals.
Ouch.
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Clan raging bovine is appropriate name for a pack of gloryhounds who can't see further than their gunsights.
Is clan Diamond Shark doing a sort of New Economic Policy 2.0?
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Opalescent Reflections
Stacking the Deck
Chapter 11
Katyusha, Strana Mechty
Kerensky Cluster, Clan Homeworlds
1 April 3055
Sarah had considered just meeting in the Hall of Khans. It wasn’t as if Khans of the various factions meeting would be a surprise and it meant less travel time.
She had decided against it because that was business as usual and she didn’t want her guests thinking that way. Instead, she had chosen a club on the edge of Svobodya Zemylya Park that catered to the more intellectual of the warrior caste. Private rooms were equipped for everything from chess to strategic simulations, and they had some soundproofing. It would do.
“Are we here to play games?” Asa Taney asked when he and Sarah’s other guests had been seated and coffee was poured out into their cups.
“In a manner of speaking,” rasped Malavai Fletcher, his voice soft in a way that the man himself never was. His eyes locked onto Sarah’s. “You know what we all want, Khan Weaver. But I have no reason to give it to you alone.”
Sarah’s hand closed around her mug, glad that this venue did not use disposable cup. “In your place, I would say the same, Malavai.”
The Khan of the Hells Horses tilted his head at the use of his personal name, then gave his saKhan a weighty look.
Tanya DeLaurel nodded. “However much your Clan praises Leo Showers, we will not elect him ilKhan again. He has had his chance. And on Camlann, he wasted it, quiaff?”
Barring her teeth, Sarah met the other woman’s gaze. “Whoever is next elected ilKhan, it will not be a Smoke Jaguar.” She shrugged and sipped her coffee. “Someone must wash the taste of my Khan from the Grand Council’s delicate palate.”
“That is all very well,” snorted Taney. The Ice Hellion took a gulp from his own cup. “But the same is true of an invasion. We are all Crusaders, but why should we vote to unleash you now when we are being kept here.”
That got a nod from the other Khan. “Revival is over. There must be a new plan. Something that offers us something.”
“There is a saying - from the Draconis Combine, though it long predates even the Star League.” Sarah set her cup down. “The nail that stands out, gets hammered down.”
Danielle Lienet looked confused. “What are you talking about?” It seemed neither of the Ice Hellion Khans had been picked for their intelligence.
“She means the Diamond Sharks,” DeLaurel explained.
The Sharks were the largest Clan now… and they controlled the largest Occupation Zone. While the Jade Falcons, Nova Cats and Steel Vipers were still pushing forwards, the Sharks had driven the Draconis Combine almost entirely past the truce line and by volume, their share of the Inner Sphere was larger than that of the Wolves and Smoke Jaguars combined.
“When the truce ends, whether it is today or in 3066, they have little further to go than we do to reach Terra,” Sarah agreed. “In alliance with the Ghost Bears, they could smash through the remains of the Combine while all the other current invading Clans would have to fight the Federated Commonwealth.”
Taney frowned. “You could also strike at the Combine. I can read a map.”
“Not as easily as you might think. Our corridor runs into a rift with few worlds suitable as bases.” She was tempted to simply use uninhabited systems and strike directly for the motherworld without concerning the Jaguars with anything else. But that would be a dangerous gamble.
“There is a reason that you are here, talking to us, and not joining your new Tau Galaxy as they ship out,” Fletcher growled in anticipation. “Get to it.”
Sarah lifted her cup in toast to the Hells Horse. Tau Galaxy had indeed left Huntress, heading for the Smoke Jaguar enclave on Eden. The world was shared with the Jade Falcons, the Wolves… and Fletcher’s clan. It was the Wolves who would be bloodied by Tau, a chance for her to see how the Star Colonels she had chosen could fight outside of her direct command. The last test before they departed for the Inner Sphere.
“The Diamond Shark touman is sizable,” she observed. “But they are spread very thin - divided between Homeworlds and Occupation Zone… and garrisoning a very large number of worlds. Their refusal to share the burden of such a large region is unwise, in my view.”
There was a low chuckle from Fletcher.
“A lack of wisdom should be punished,” Taney said, with a smile and a remarkable lack of self-awareness.
Fletcher nodded slowly.
“Sending forces to the Inner Sphere is not quite as simple as sending them to the Pentagon,” DeLaurel warned, sounding more as if she was trying to convince herself than the rest of them.
Lienet also seemed intrigued. “We also have obligations here. The Steel Vipers have seen how unwise it is to send too much of their forces to the Inner Sphere.”
Sarah considered the Ice Hellion for a moment and upgraded her assessment of the other woman. Maybe she wasn’t as much of a fool as her Khan. Just… slow. Which was ironic, given her Clan’s obsession with speed. “Agreed. My own Clan must concern themselves with controlling our own Occupation Zone, so it is unwise for any of us to overcommit. But together we can cut the Diamond Sharks down to size. Since Sennet and her cohort are so enthused about the spinward worlds of the Combine, let them keep those - opening corridors through their original corridor would be entirely to my own satisfaction.”
That would deprive Clan Diamond Shark of the industrialized worlds around Luthien, including their new shipyards. They would also be left further from Terra - like the Steel Vipers, they would be essentially out of the race when it came to taking the motherworld and becoming ilClan.
“This is barely a plan,” DeLaurel observed, “More of an objective.”
“It is the beginnings,” Fletcher declared, voice rumbling. He lifted his own mug and drank deeply of it. “Planning this will not be the matter of the five of us in a room. This will require a considerable amount of preparation.”
“I could have three Galaxies in motion by sunrise tomorrow,” Taney declared boastfully.
“Aff, but starcharts and supplies would take longer,” pointed out DeLaurel. “Take care of these matters now and when your warriors strike it will be like a storm. Without them… more of a light rain.”
While her Khan flushed in embarrassment, Lienet spoke up. “Are you suggesting that we expand your existing supply lines, Khan Weaver? And strike out of your occupation zone?”
“That is one possibility,” she allowed. “However, that raises the possibility of coming into conflict with the Ghost Bears, who watch that region closely. Even if they were not directly involved, they might well inform the Sharks before we are ready. As an alternative, you could strike first at their coreward occupation zone - that would mean you would need to establish forward staging areas, but there is a better prospect of catching the Sharks off guard.”
“Both approaches have their merits,” Fletcher allowed. “And since you are inviting both our Clans, we need not settle for only one.”
“That would be possible,” agreed Sarah. Probably not ideal, but it was worth considering all the options.
Further conversation was interrupted by a knock at the door. She looked up in annoyance - the point of using this room was that they should be left alone. Then she opened the door a crack and demanded: “What?”
“Khan Weaver,” the voice of the laborer who had brought the coffee for her sounded nervous through the door. “We have been asked to inform you that you have an urgent message. Your aide requests that you turn on your Comm.”
There was a chuckle from Taney. “Perhaps Tau Galaxy are not yet ready to act without their instructor’s supervision.”
Sarah shot him a glare. Maybe it would be best to kill him and continue negotiations with Lienet alone? Taking out her Comm, she turned it on and checked the message queue. Then she blinked.
A bleep drew her eyes away from the device and she saw Fletcher had also taken out his comm unit and was checking his own messages.
Their eyes met and for the first time since she had met him, the towering Elemental seemed at a loss. “What,” he demanded, “Is a Zeerga?”
“They are native to the Wolf enclaves here on Strana Mechty,” Sarah told him. “Hunted for sport. It seems we have messages about the same thing.”
He grunted. “Odd choice. Shall we share our information?”
“What are you talking about?” demanded Taney.
Sarah and Fletcher locked gazes, ignoring the Ice Hellion. After a moment, the Hells Horse khan shrugged. “The Hall of Khans has been instructed to open offices for a Khan of Clan Zeerga.”
“There is no such Clan!”
“There was not.” He looked over at Sarah. “And you?”
“Tau Galaxy’s batchalls for Wolf resources on Eden were answered by officials of a Clan by that name,” she answered. “Clan Wolf will defend those resources ‘on behalf’ of Clan Zeerga.”
Lienet rubbed her chin. “How can a Clan be created?”
“I see no reason for Ulric Kerensky to rename his own Clan,” Fletcher answered. “And Clan Wolf clearly still exists or why would they be defending these Zeerga.”
DeLaurel gasped. “Founder… there is a clause in the laws - obscure, it has never been done.”
“What clause?” Sarah demanded urgently.
“A Khan can divide their Clan,” the Hells Horse informed them. “It is unheard of, but I believe it is legal.”
Taney shook his head. “Why would anyone do that?”
For once he had come up with the right question, Sarah thought. And she would find no answer here. “We should meet again to continue our discussions,” she proposed. “But right now…”
Fletcher lifted his comm. “I will call for transportation to the Hall of Khans. Whatever is happening, they will have any official news first.”
Sarah nodded in agreement. The Diamond Sharks were tomorrow’s problem. Whatever the Wolves were up to, that had to be dealt with first!
Hilton Head, North America
Terra, Sol System
12 May 3055
Phi Division was accustomed to trying to make their explanations suited to those whose idea of balancing a budget involved the phrase ‘Blake vult’. They had therefore opened and closed their presentation with a simple graphic: a red line of expenditures that was rising and a blue line of income that was falling.
The two lines hadn’t intersected yet, but projections had the blue dropping below the red within the next two years.
Wei Rong would only have counted herself as slightly above average when it came to finance, but if anyone on the First Circuit didn’t understand that diagram, she’d consider dismissing them from their position.
“How did we become this dependent on cross-border trade?” asked Tiger Lily.
“Because our predecessors wanted to make the Successor States dependent upon us for that,” Wei replied. “And since they succeeded in convincing the Successor Lords to blow each other’s jumpships apart, or later to seize them as the fleets shrank to the point that jumpships were more valuable than their cargoes. Having the only jumpships that could cross borders with impunity gave us a legal monopoly.”
She rubbed her face and considered pointing out that it wasn’t as bad as it looked. The actual excess income of the Order was never that much greater than their expenditures and she’d already cut away a lot of the black budget over the last few years. But it was better to have the First Circuit worrying now rather than overconfident.
“And now the Great Houses are at peace with each other,” Rachel Orchard concluded. “Once they started shipping arms to each other, they were willing to send ships with less vital cargoes across borders as well…”
“And while we’re still able to compete, we have to lean into our tax-free status to maintain an edge,” Wei finished. “Meaning that we don’t have the same profit margin - and everyone in the business can make a pretty good estimate of how much we were profiting at the previous rates.”
Joe Buckley frowned. “Is that damaging to our image?”
That was a surprisingly good question from Precentor New Avalon, she thought. For all his fixations, he hadn’t risen this far by being unintelligent. He was just… focused in how he applied that intelligence. Like most of us, Wei admitted to herself. “Given the number of jokes about our prices already, I’m confident that it isn’t going to be anything that our PR people can’t cope with.”
“I always thought that most of our income came from the HPGs,” the other Joe murmured. Precentor Tharkad rubbed his chin. “Are we going to have to hike prices there?”
“Most of our income does come from the HPGs,” Wei informed him. “That side of the Order is still making a net profit - the uptick in military communications has offset the drop in commercial use of HPGs across the Clan occupied worlds. But it isn’t enough on its own, thus we’ve been diversifying since the time of Blake. And it took him more than twenty years to get the Order to the point of making a profit.”
Murphy blinked. “Really?”
“2802 was the first year we were in the black,” she confirmed. “Much of the rebuilding of Terra was done on credit. The repayments to the Great Houses probably extended the First Succession War by six months, given the financial state of the Inner Sphere by that point.”
“I take it you aren’t planning on borrowing again?” Tiger Lily asked in concern.
Andrew Norris chuckled. “We already borrow money for short term needs - it’s barely a blip on the budget, but it’s standard practice to take loans for immediate costs - expanding Pesht’s facilities recently, for example - and spread repayments over the next couple of years. The interest payments cost less than waiting until we have cash on hand.”
Precentor Atreus shook her head. “I meant on a scale to cover this projected deficit.”
“I would prefer to avoid that,” Wei reassured her. “We might need to borrow on a short-term basis, but it would only make sense to do so to cover a gap until other measures put us back on a stable footing… which brings us to such measures in the first place.”
“So we need to increase income, cut costs or both?”
“I confess I had never considered this downside to the Great Houses ceasing their wars with each other,” Buckley chuckled.
Wei slapped her hand against her podium. “I refuse to see an end to that bloodshed as a bad thing, Precentor New Avalon. Those divisions have caused more suffering over the centuries than even the Usurper managed. I only regret that it has taken a war against an outside threat to bring some measure of peace to the Inner Sphere.”
“It seemed to work for the Star League,” pointed out Norris.
“That it did,” she agreed wearily. The parallels to the Reunification War - from both sides - were not lost on her. “However, Precentor Tharkad has pointed out our options accurately and while Phi Division will be reviewing every division’s finances to try to find ways to save money, the simple fact is that we have already been streamlining expenditures to rebuild the ComGuards and improve the defenses of our enclaves across the Inner Sphere. It is unlikely we can cut our outgoings significantly without compromising our other commitments.”
“Is your Solar Shade on the chopping block?” enquired Tiger Lily a little snidely.
Wei exhaled slowly. “That has been considered, but at this point we have already paid the start-up costs and cutting it now would mean that the investment has been wasted. In fact, the Order has been approached about applying the workforce and techniques to other orbital construction projects around the Inner Sphere. That will represent a modest income stream which is already included in Phi Division’s predictions.”
Modest by the standards of ComStar. Alas, Wei thought, she could not justify claiming a negotiator’s percentage for her part in arranging the matter. Her pension fund would have been full to overflowing.
“Is that what you have in mind to correct this?” Norris asked, gesturing towards the graph. “Consultancy?”
She spread her hands. “Our scientists and engineers are an asset. It is not a long term solution, because of the advances being made across the Inner Sphere will eventually spread from the centres of power to the hinterlands. Until that happens though, there is a shortage of trained personnel to implement the restoration of Star League infrastructure and manufacturing - particularly with most of those available being committed to military matters. In the short to medium term, ComStar can step in and bolster both our income and our reputation.”
“At the low, low cost of our technological superiority,” objected Buckley.
“That’s going away whether we want it to or not,” pointed out Trent Hone. The Precentor St Ives’ status had been elevated slightly by the growth of the St Ives Compact. “We may as well benefit the order while we can, because if we want to stay ahead of the recovery we’ll need our R&D to outpace the Successor States.”
“Or for the Clans and the Great Houses to bomb themselves back to the stone age.” Joe Murphy looked dour at the prospect. “We all know it’s a possibility.”
Wei closed her eyes for a moment. “One to avoid, if we can.” She wished she was more confident of that, she really did.
“Do we have any longer term options.” Tiger Lily stepped forwards slightly. “I understand that this approach may be needed to keep us solvent while other strategies are put into practise, but I would hope that our successors are not left cursing us for short-sightedness.”
“They will,” Norris observed sardonically. “After all, we are cursing previous generations for not seeing all the problems we face now. The simple fact is that we can’t reliably predict what challenges the Order will face ten or twenty years from now.”
“And hindsight is always twenty-twenty,” Wei agreed. “There are no investments that we can be sure will continue to generate income forever. The shortest term opportunity to bring in funds is a request from the AFFC to cover some civilian shipping lines over the next twelve months, replacing jumpships that they wish to commandeer in order to rotate regiments that are facing the Clans at the moment.”
“Doesn’t that mean we’re directly helping the AFFC?” asked Orchard cautiously. “That could be taken as breaking our neutrality.”
“Technically not,” Hone allowed cautiously, “Since we aren’t directly transporting troops. But there is certainly a benefit to the AFFC. And therefore a detriment to the Clans that they are fighting.”
“Will we ever get off the fence?” Murphy demanded. “We know the Clans are discussing breaking the truce and the current attacks aren’t holding to the spirit of it. Look at the Sharks attacking the Outworlds Alliance - there’s no limit to their avarice!”
The Primus couldn’t bring herself to disagree, but… “Once we get off that fence it’s hard to get back onto it. Therefore it must be done for maximum effect.”
“And we’re not ready yet.”
“No,” she confirmed.
“So long as they respect our enclaves, there is no gain to ComStar in breaking the truce,” claimed Tiger Lily.
“Currently,” Wei allowed, “No. But at the same time, if the Great Houses turn the tide then it would be better for us to not be too late in supporting them.” It was nakedly self-interested, but that was how politics worked. Everyone loved a winner, and someone who offered help before it was clear who that would be was valued more than a johnny-come-lately. ComStar was well placed to monitor the tide of the conflict… but it would still be very easy to make a mistake.
“If they do.” Norris said dourly. “I see little sign of that from the Combine.”
Precentor Shaffi, who had been thrust into the role of Advocate for the Combine when Minoru Kurita moved his capital to Irurzun, made a pained face. “I cannot readily disagree,” the mousy little woman conceded.
“Then that particular proposal is probably not the best of ideas,” Tiger Lily declared. “The truce must hold, at least until we can be sure that Terra will be protected by other means.”
“We appear to have a difference of opinions,” Wei observed, looking at Joe Murphy. “Does anyone wish to call for a vote or shall we abandon that particular request?”
“Since the civilian jumpships will likely be requisitioned either way, we can expect to be picking up their cargoes when our jumpships are in the region anyway,” he pointed out. “The Federated Commonwealth may be picking up the tab, but we’d be doing it anyway.”
Tiger Lily tapped her finger tips together. “Perhaps if there was a further layer of obscurity. Could we give the Federated Commonwealth assurance that if they issue vouchers to pay for replacement shipping, that we will accept them where we have jumpships positioned? Since other shipping lines could also take the vouchers, it would be a purely commercial interaction that doesn’t tie us directly to military planning.”
It was sophistry, but it could help, Wei thought. “That is reasonable to me. Who supports Precentor Atreus’ amended proposal?”
There was a show of hands that indicated a clear, if not overwhelming, majority of the First Circuit favored the motion.
Wei nodded. “The motion passes. Precentor Tharkad, if you would take point on negotiating this with the Federated Commonwealth?”
“Of course,” Murphy agreed.
Buckley made annoyed noises, but the Lyran half of the Federated Commonwealth was always the most financially astute.
“There are two proposals for ComStar-backed - or directly owned - corporations to begin export manufacture to bolster our income,” Wei continued, moving on from the matter before it could bog down. “In the longer term, the demand for shipping means that jumpships would be potentially very profitable. We have had requests for years to open up our shipyards to support merchant shipping, we’ve even had a new request from Clan Diamond Shark to provide new jumpships or even just maintenance and support.”
“You want to help one of the Clans?” exclaimed Buckley.
Wei shrugged. “Since we’re neutral, selling jumpships to both the Clans and the Great Houses would be consistent, although by the time that we have shipyards up and running to build new jumpships in numbers the entire situation may have changed.”
Hone frowned. “We have shipyards already,”
“Shipyards that are busy supporting our own fleets - civil and military,” Murphy reminded him. “The Primus is proposing to re-establish other yards, I believe?”
“Indeed. Possibly in the Terran system or, if enclave status can be negotiated and seems secure, then other systems may also be feasible,” Wei agreed. “That would be subject to extended discussion. It will take years, perhaps more than a decade, for us to be building jumpships in numbers.”
“Where would be obtain the germanium for the the jumpdrives?” asked Orchard. “The majority of deposits in the old Terran Hegemony territory have already been exploited.”
“That would be a strong argument for establishing yards away from the core of the Inner Sphere,” Wei pointed out. “There are sources available in the Periphery in all the major states, although I would be hesitant to rely on the Marian Hegemony as a source. The Taurians or Canopians might be a better starting point.”
“I think I would want to see some more detailed proposals,” the Capellan’s Precentor-Advocate said slowly. “Can Phi draw up some options to be reviewed.”
“If not then I’ll cut their budget until they do,” joked Wei. “This isn’t something we can decide quickly, but it’s probably the safest long term option for growing our income.”
“Unless someone tries smashing yards again,” warned Orchard absently. “Although if that is happening, our budget won’t be our first concern.”
No, survival would be.
“How will shipyards be paid for?” asked Norris. “I like the idea, but wouldn’t the cost of building them add hugely to the expense side of our finances.”
Wei smiled thinly. “Correct. And while that is a proposition we could borrow towards, what Phi is recommending is that we use rather smaller manufacturing projects to build up income in the shorter-term, then spend that on the shipyards to provide for a longer term investment in the shipyards.”
Norris chuckled. “How very Lyran of them. What did they dream up?”
“Actually, the proposal came from the Mercenary Review Board,” she told him. “But Phi Division reviewed the idea and they think it has potential. The bulk of the advanced equipment being manufactured by the Great Houses is going to their own forces, with the Wolf Dragoons being essentially the only source for mercenaries.” She paused to let that sink in: Jaime Wolf’s death on Luthien had done much to offset suspicions that the Dragoons had once been spies for the Clans, but there was still some prejudice against them. Wei liked to think she was above feeling that… but she was not above using it.
“Spreading their influence further,” Tiger Lily said distastefully. “You suggest that we enter that market - I thought that we needed all of our own manufacture for the ComGuards?”
“As with jumpships, that reflects current production,” Wei told her. “The Precentor Martial has been requesting standardization of cooling systems across the older equipment, which requires refitting the reactors since those are usually the core of them.” She was more than happy to take his word for it - he had an engineering degree, which she lacked. “Even the SLDF often used older cooling equipment and that is reflected in what we inherited from them. He’s asking for production of reactors in several sizes that include the best heatsinks that we can currently build in numbers, so that the ComGuards can simply…” She paused. “Well, relatively simply, remove the old reactors and fit upgraded ones without needing to do a full rebuild that might be beyond their immediate facilities.”
“And the MRB suggested over-producing and selling the excess?” enquired Tiger Lily. “Is that affordable for mercenaries? I understood that the newer reactors are quite expensive.”
“The plan is to offer what are called standard reactors, rather than the lightweight models being introduced. Those should be compatible with the older ‘mechs that make up the bulk of most mercenary forces.” Wei shrugged. “The MRB say there is a huge amount of demand and since we’re not selling weapons, or selling to the Great Houses, this shouldn’t cause too many problems.”
“Define too many?”
“It won’t keep me from sleeping at night,” Wei lied smoothly. “And I have a very delicate conscience.”
-
New Johannesburg, New Capetown
Clan Steel Viper Occupation Zone
20 June 3055
The late Duke Aren Hearscht had bravely led New Capetown’s garrison in defense of his homeworld.
Aidan was willing to credit the duke with personal courage. The riots that had swarmed over the noble quarter of the planetary capital before the Ninety-Fourth Striker Cluster had been able to secure the city suggested that Hearscht had few other merits as a ruler.
With the mansions not confirmed as safe, Star Colonel Redmond had confiscated a hotel near the financial center of the city as her administrative headquarters. It wasn’t ideal for BattleMech access, so Aidan and Horse were brought in by helicopter.
The building was on the corner of a triangular block and as Aidan glanced out of the window, he saw a Fire Moth standing watchfully on one of the streets flanking the hotel. While he couldn’t see the other street, the movement of traffic suggested that there was another ‘mech there. The helicopter pilot lowered the little craft down until it hovered over an ornamental pond, the downdraft sending ripples through the water.
Horse slid open the side-door, revealing a pair of Elementals waiting on top of the mechanical penthouse. Aidan followed his friend in hopping down from the aircraft, the armored infantry reaching out to make sure they managed the step. A perceptible increase of power to the helicopter’s rotors presaged it leaping for the sky again, leaving them on the roof.
“Star Colonel, Star Captain.” One of the elementals saluted and indicated the stairs down to the roof terrace. “You are expected.”
“I would hope so,” Aidan told them. He was here on orders, after all. An unexpected helicopter approaching the building would probably have been fired on by the omnimechs below and however many Elementals were here on the roof.
The elemental chuckled. “So far the local insurgents seem more interested in targeting survivors of the previous government. It makes this world a refreshing change.”
Horse snorted. “I hope we have moved on before they have sharpened their claws on that and move on to the current government.”
With that happy thought in mind, the two of them were pointed down the steps to the terrace and then into an elevator that carried them to one of the lower floors. Here they found more armed guards - though not in battle armor - who directed them to a twin room where they could leave their traveling kits and get ready.
Once he had cleaned up and shaved again, Aidan handed the bathroom over to Horse and sprawled out on his bed. Whatever was going on here, it had to be something more than another quarrel with the Steel Vipers. Most of the Gyrfalcon Galaxy had assembled here on New Capetown, which wasn’t within a single jump of any inhabited systems in the direction of the Federated Commonwealth. Were the Watch predicting further counterattacks such as that which had briefly retaken Sargasso?
“Are you falling asleep?” Horse asked, emerging from the bathroom, still drying his face with a towel.
“No. Just thinking.”
“Ah.” The freeborn tossed the towel over a radiator to dry. “About Diana?”
“No,” he replied absently.
“That makes a change from you brooding over your inadequacy as a father,” Horse told him.
Aidan sat up sharply. “I have never been her father.”
“And that is the problem, at least in your eyes.” The other man picked up his uniform tunic and pulled it on. “She is too old for you to feed or to clean the diapers of. So you want to do something, and get frustrated when you cannot think of anything.”
“I begin to see why Joanna always wants to punch you.”
Horse reached over and slapped Aidan on the shoulder. “When she needs your help, she comes to you. That is all you can hope for right now.”
“I suppose you are right,” Aidan admitted. He got off the bed. “We should go, the meeting is due to start soon.”
The elevator took them down further to a meeting room where Aidan found that they were the last to arrive. In addition to Star Colonel Kristen Redmond, with her distinctive Enhanced Imaging Neural Implants, Aidan’s sibkin Marthe Pryde sat at the table while the other two Star Colonels of the Gyrfalcons currently taking advantage of the coffee bar on one side of the room. Three aides were clustered by the window - Aidan wasn’t sure who had elected not bring one.
And stood at the far end of the room, Kael Pershaw was examining a data display on the podium, images reflected on his face from the screen. “Aidan Pryde,” he offered in greeting and gestured towards the table. “Take a seat.”
Diane Anu and Rard Hoyt both joined Aidan at the table, since the meeting seemed about to begin. However, when Perhaw said nothing, Anu leant over to Aidan. “I understand that you defeated one of the Inner Sphere’s Summoners on Arc Royal, quiaff?”
He nodded. “Aff. A skilled mechwarrior, and unfortunately he was retrieved before I could take him as a bondsman.”
“Are you sure it was not isorla?” she asked.
Aidan recalled that Anu was a skilled ‘mech technician who liked to prepare her own weapons… and she also used a Summoner. “It was certainly not using our weapons,” he told her. “And the technician who examined it is very experienced - he was assigned to me during my Trial of Bloodright.”
“Concerning,” Anu mused. “I have encountered what may have been such ‘mechs on two occasions, but we were unable to capture them to check their provenance. If we could capture the factory manufacturing them then it might address some of our supply issues.”
Before the conversation could continue, the door opened and Aidan realized that he and Horse were not the last attendees to arrive. All five Star Colonels stood up in respect as saKhan Vandervahn Chistu marched into the room.
The Khan glanced at them and then nodded in acknowledgement. Removing the cape that covered his uniform, their commander turned to hang it up but one of the aides stepped up and took the garment, a reverent look on his face. Chistu patted the warrior on her shoulder in thanks and walked to the head of the table, folding his arms behind him. “Take your seats,” he instructed and waited as they settled down.
“You have all made me proud,” Khan Chistu congratulated them. “The Gyrfalcons have flown furthest and hardest of all our forces during this campaign, supporting our brothers and sisters whenever you were called on. And now I must lead you further than ever before.”
“The Ninety-Fourth are ready for anything,” Redmond asserted and both Hoyt and Anu made similar remarks.
Aidan exchanged glances with Marthe and then both nodded towards the Khan. Whatever the Jade Falcons needed, their Clusters were ready.
“I did not doubt it,” Chistu confirmed and then stepped aside. “Pershaw.”
The cyborg nodded automatically and transferred the display from his podium to the screen behind him, showing them a map of the frontlines - golden stars representing the Federated Commonwealth contrasting with green Jade Falcon, white Nova Cat and silver Steel Viper progress.
“Tharkad,” Pershaw indicated, pointing at a highlighted golden star. “One of the two capitals of the Federated Commonwealth. Donegal.” Another light, almost next to it. “A provincial capital, comparable to Tamar.” Clan Wolf’s great prize during Operation Revival. “Both worlds are below the truce line… but when the truce ends…”
“Whether that is a decade from now or sooner,” interrupted Chistu.
“Indeed. We need staging areas, worlds to launch our attack on Tharkad in the future.” Pershaw highlighted a handful of worlds just short of the glittering prizes. “All three of our Clans have eyes on the prize, and all three are fighting for suitable worlds. The uncertainty over events in the homeworlds means that we must complete our operations soon. And at the moment none of us are making the progress we need.”
Aidan leant forwards. “Can we take Tharkad alone?”
“The Diamond Sharks took Luthien,” Redmond snapped. “Anything they can do, we can do, quiaff?”
“If the circumstances were the same,” assessed Hoyt cautiously, “Yes. But they are not.” He was the smallest of the Star Colonels present, but Aidan knew that his apparently fragility was deceptive. The commander of the First Striker Cluster had survived the competition to reach high rank through excellence in unarmed combat: he had defeated Elementals twice his size. “The Federated Commonwealth was the stronger of the two realms already, and now they have had years to prepare and fortify - not to mention, developing new and more advanced BattleMechs.”
“Even if the Diamond Sharks are the only Clan currently fighting the Combine, the Ghost Bears and Smoke Jaguars present a threat that House Kurita cannot ignore,” Aidan added pointedly. “The Successor States are too large for any Clan to defeat entirely alone.”
“That is -”
Marthe cut off Redmond. “The full might of our Clan could take Tharkad, but only at the cost of abandoning the rest of our occupation zone. Unless we are willing to do that, we will need allies.” She sounded as certain as ever.
“Correct.” Chistu stepped forwards. “I am pleased that you have reached the same conclusion that I did.”
Redmond sank back into her seat, the implants standing out against her skin as she paled.
“The khans of all three Clans have agreed that we will cooperate to secure the most advantageous positions for the future,” continued the bearded saKhan. “If this goes well then it may extend to Tharkad in the future. Before then, before we take the capital, we have another target.”
Pershaw took up the presentation again. “Coventry,” he indicated. The world was directly across the rift from New Capetown. “One of the most important industrial worlds in the Commonwealth, home to the Lyran’s first battlemech factory - not counting those seized from the Terran Hegemony - and still building battlemechs to this day. We believe that Coventry is the center of developing their most advanced light BattleMechs. There is a military academy, a major logistics center… and it is also the destination of regiments too battered to continue the battle, meaning that while the garrison is large on paper, it is made up of exhausted warriors and under strength units.”
“That is why we are here, quiaff?” Anu proposed. “We take Coventry.”
“Aff,” agreed the crippled warrior. “All three Clans will commit a galaxy to the operation, in our case the Gyrfalcon Galaxy. Deny the factories to the Inner Sphere - capture would be preferable, but likely unattainable. Destroy the weakened units there before they can be rebuilt with new ‘mechs and a new generation of Inner Sphere warriors… and cripple the flow of logistics to the units currently fighting on Kirevci, Incukalns and Dukambia, letting us move up to more vital worlds within reach of the Lyran heartlands.”
Aidan saw Horse shifting warily out of the corner of his eyes. He could see the unvoiced question and uttered it himself. “This will be the biggest battle for our Clans since Camlann, where cooperation was almost non-existent and logistics was our achilles heel. What have we learned from that experience?”
Chistu smiled thinly. “Good questions. Our supply expectations have been adjusted based on the experience of Camlann. Supply shipments are being assembled from all three Clans to exceed those requirements and we have agreed that a combined staff will coordinate their allocation across all three Clans. In addition, Kael Pershaw here will be overseeing elements of the Watch to share and distribute intelligence for the full invasion force.” He paused. “Many garrisons have given up their reserves to contribute to this operation, Star Colonels. They are asking us for victory and we will not disappoint.”
Pershaw tapped a control and the star chart was replaced by a map of a planet - Coventry, Aidan guessed. The map was positively littered with icons marking cities, key industrial notes and defenders. “Bidding for targets will be reserved to the senior representative of each Khan,” he began as the map spun and reformed into a globe. “The focus of the attack will be the Veracruz and Dunnigan continents, which are divided by the Cross-Divide Mountains, a formidable barrier to operations…”
-
Oho ... Coventry. I really doubt the Lyrans will ever give that one up. The cultural and political significance of that world is too high for them to just let it go like they did Tamar.
Well I say "let go" ... I mean, their reinforcement to Tamar were too underwhelming - which to be fair was to be expected because the capabilities of the Clans at that point of time most probably were too little well known. For Coventry this is not at all the case.
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It'll be a bloodbath, certainly... ;)
-
If the two Stiener-Davion brothers are still on Coventry when the three clans arrive to take the planet. The clan's may lose cohesion later on if they find out that they can capture two of the heirs for the FedCom. Heck, maybe Victor might negotiate with the Clans if they lose capturing them, the surviving Clan forces now belong to the FedCom as isorla.
With the new members of Clan Zeerga heading back to the homeworlds to take over some of the former Wolf enclaves. I wonder if there will be a Grand Council meeting to welcome the newly formed clan and how much time they have to get their act together before the other homeworld clans' start testing thier mettle.
I wonder how much of the Clan Dimond Shark civilians and infrastructure is on its way to the new Dimond Shark Dominion from the homeworlds? Also, it would be amazing if the Dimond Sharks managed to convince Comstar to provide a contract for maintenance for their merchant caste jumpships in the future! I wonder how the other invading clans will react?
Comstar actually trying to diversify its income by also sharing the terraforming and possibly help rebuild shipyards would be a good thing in the long term for Comstar. It was nice to read that Primus Wei has cut/trim their Black ops budget.
Looking forward to see how SaKhan Weaver's negotiation with other homeworld clans on taking a swipe at the Dimond Shark Dominion territory goes.
-
My guess is that creation of the Clan Raging Bovine will delay the attack on Sharks for at least few months as everyone in the Homeworlds tries to benefit from the split within clan Wolf, combined with transit times to Occupation Zone it would give the Shark Watch time to smell a rat. Makes me wonder if Ace will have to kill Barbara Sennet to give the Sharks a chance to weather the assault, as she seems all too preoccupied with expansion. If Ace kills two more khans, would that make him Ace of Khans?
I think the clanner logistical preparations for the battle for Coventry will not be sufficient, despite their enthusiasm, as it will be prolonged slugging match, even if they made more effort to prepare for it.
-
My guess is that creation of the Clan Raging Bovine will delay the attack on Sharks for at least few months as everyone in the Homeworlds tries to benefit from the split within clan Wolf, combined with transit times to Occupation Zone it would give the Shark Watch time to smell a rat.
There is really no chance of Sarah Weaver's proposed Jaguar-Hellion-Horses force hitting the Diamond Sharks in less than a year.
Without depending entirely on Smoke Jaguar 'logistics', more like two years, if not longer.
-
Splitting the Wolfs went a lot smoother than in canon, I'll give Ulric that. But if Zeerga survives the coming feeding frenzy, I think they will be a disrupting force in Clan politics. Their warriors appear to be younger on average than other Clans, they have to proof their Clan is able to compete with the others on equal footing and the one thing that binds them together is (for now) their radical opposition to the Truce and the experience of being cut from their original Clan. They could become the focal point for opposition to the Truce and we have already seen that every Clan struggles with containing their radicals. But if they fail and get devoured by the other Clans it could silence the matter for the duration of the Truce.
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"Ace of Khans" has a nice ring to it... ;D
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There is really no chance of Sarah Weaver's proposed Jaguar-Hellion-Horses force hitting the Diamond Sharks in less than a year.
Without depending entirely on Smoke Jaguar 'logistics', more like two years, if not longer.
With the Diamond Shark trade/intelligence operations in the Home Worlds. They should find out quickly about any plans to be attacked.
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Concerning Coventry, I am currently thinking that it can end with a pyrrhic victory for either side.
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Falcons are also stripping their garrisons of munitions reserves to support this assault, if FC would launch raids against garrison units (as they occasionally do) these strikes could end up much more successful than expected.
The first independent Zeerga trials will be incredibly brutal, with older warriors seeking to die (that is those that haven't yet died to all the internal trials of grievance) and younger warriors bristling with rage. I wonder which clan will have the honour of prodding the hornet nest first.
-
Opalescent Reflections
Stacking the Deck
Chapter 12
Katyusha, Strana Mechty
Kerensky Cluster, Clan Homeworlds
17 July 3055
The sun was setting over Katyusha, casting the Hall of Khans’s shadow across the eastern side of the parks surrounding the great structure.
Sarah Weaver was lying in wait outside the Hall, using the shadows for concealment. When her prey emerged, she struck.
“Stravag,” hissed Marialle Radick as she realized her attempt to reach her transport without being intercepted by one of the other Khans had been thwarted.
Sarah bared her teeth. “Zeerga,” she offered in semi-polite greeting. Radick probably did not know that the Smoke Jaguars considered the term an insult. “We should talk, quiaff.”
“Neg, we have talked enough already,” the Khan of the newest Clan denied.
“When have we spoken, Radick. When, in all the bickering, have we exchanged words?”
She watched as the younger Khan considered that and finally realized that Sarah was right. Showers had been active in the politicking around Clan Zeerga’s territory on Strana Mechty, he probably could not help himself. But Sarah had remained silent on the issue.
By long standing law, territory on Strana Mechty was not contested between the Clans. Each had received an equal share of the world when the Clans were founded, and that had been maintained ever since. As clans were absorbed - or in one case annihilated - their enclaves had been carved up equally between the other Clans - most recently during the Burrock absorption.
Negotiating how those territories were divided was one thing but it had at least got precedent. There was no precedent for the creation of a new Clan and the obligation for every other Clan to give up territory to them, leaving each Clan trying to find a way to meet the required concessions while actually surrendering the least valuable territory.
The simplest solution would have been simply roll back the division of the Burrock Clan’s enclaves, but that had been complicated - probably intentionally - by Ulric Kerensky declaring that Clan Wolf would be giving up the bulk of their enclaves on Cameron, the southern continent, which had originally been the property of Clan Mongoose and Clan Widowmaker. Now every Clan was trying to get the best deal… and almost every Khan was bending Radick’s ear to get agreement from her.
Sarah was counting on being the thin edge between almost and all, to get her what was currently one of the most coveted prizes on Strana Mechty: a private conversation with the Khan of the newest Clan.
WIth a sigh, the younger woman opened the door of her car and gestured for Sarah to get in. “I reserve the right to throw you out of the car if you bring up enclaves,” she warned. “And note how I say nothing about stopping the car first.”
“That would be a nice trick if you could do it,” the Smoke Jaguar challenged as she climbed in. “However, we may not find out as I do not care which enclaves you are given.”
“I find that hard to believe,” Radick told her, climbing in. “But I will take your word for it.” The driver pulled away from the curb and the other mechwarrior turned slightly to look at Sarah. “So what is that you want?”
“Stop trialing for Hells Horses warriors,” Sarah instructed her. She thought Radick would appreciate directness.
“...said the flamer to the inferno warhead?” the Zeerga offered, sounding bemused.
“What?”
Radick muttered something under her breath. “Rumor has it that your Tau Galaxy may be as much as two-thirds abtakha, but you want me to stop building up my Clan by harvesting from other Clans?”
“I do not give a surat’s tail for you raiding the Coyotes and Goliath Scorpions for crusader-inclined warriors,” Sarah clarified. “If you would like, I can suggest other warden Clans who might have discontented Crusaders in their ranks.”
“Then why your concern for the Hells Horses?”
The Smoke Jaguar stretched in her seat. “You may be too young to remember, but before Malavai Fletcher became Khan, the Hells Horses were aligned with Ulric Kerensky and his Wardens,” she informed Radick. “There are still a large number of Wardens in their ranks.”
“Then perhaps their Crusaders will be happier in our ranks,” the young woman said stubbornly. “And you have done the same, so -”
Sarah smacked her fist against the door panel. “We took raw cadets and unblooded warriors relegated to be instructors. You have been taking bloodnamed warriors and that is shifting the the balance of the Hells Horses’ Clan Council.”
“...oh.” Radick bit her lip in thought. “How badly?”
“You would know better than I, how many bloodnamed warriors have been taken into your Clan. Malavai is a formidable Khan - and he cannot go asking that you do not challenge his Clan, that would be unforgivable weakness. But he generally has a majority of about fifty votes in the Clan Council on issues that divide Warden from Crusader.”
She was fairly sure that Radick’s Zeerga hadn’t claimed even fifty warriors from the Hells Horses, much less fifty bloodnamed warriors. But it would not take that many to tip the balance, just enough that a Trial of Refusal against the fearsome Malavai began to look feasible.
“I had not considered that,” The Zeerga looked pensive. “How does this bother you, though? Clan Smoke Jaguar and Clan Hells Horses have never been friends.”
“We have mutual interests,” Sarah admitted. “And there is the matter of the number of Khans we can count on for any vote on whether to break the truce. There are Khans I am less fond of that Malavai that I tolerate for their votes. The way that several Crusaders have tolerated your people trialling aggressively. For now.”
“In principle, I would vote for that…” Radick told her, “But as things stand that would not serve my Clan’s interests.”
Sarah knew she was baring her teeth again. “Not until you have reunited your Clan.”
The other Khan’s eyes snapped up to Sarah’s. “My Clan is now the Zeerga,” she asserted.
“Now, yes. But you were born a Wolf. And I think we both know that most of those under your banner will not be happy until they are Wolves once more.” Then she turned and glanced out of the car window. “Since that will be over the dead bodies of Ulric Kerensky and his supporters, I have no problem with that.”
“If we reunite then there will be two less votes.”
“Two less Warden votes, if you succeed.”
Radick took a deep breath. “This is a Wolf matter.”
Sarah turned her head again and chuckled. “Yes, you fit the Wolf’s mantle better than that of a zeerga. And do not trouble yourself: this is a matter internal to your Clan. While I approve, I will not taint your cause by openly supporting you.”
“And your Khan?” the young woman asked suspiciously. “You can speak for him?”
“Leo has his own concerns.”
“The Diamond Sharks?”
That got a nod from Sarah. The other Khan was not blind to everything. “They do not favor breaking the truce, because they believe it serves their goals,” she predicted. “Sennet commands the largest touman and the largest occupation zone, she sees her Clan as dominant by default: why continue the Crusade when the status quo suits her very well?”
“She does not wish to be ilClan?”
“No, she merely wishes to stop any other Clan from claiming the title. The merchant Clan see themselves as dominant already so now they wish to remain there. What threatens them? The Combine?” She snorted. “The Outworlds Alliance? No, the only real enemy they face in the Inner Sphere is Clan Smoke Jaguar.”
“Ah… I see.”
Sarah nodded. “You deal with your enemy and we will deal with ours. And then? That will be when the truce is ended.”
“And then Terra, quiaff?”
“And then Terra…” At that point all agreements would be void. Taking Terra and becoming ilClan was the ultimate prize.
Showers might think he was orchestrating everything, he must have celebrated Sarah’s decision to send Tau Galaxy ahead while she continued to deal with the politics of the Wolves schism: but she was in control of the factories on Huntress, Tranquil and Vinton. And that meant that she had him by the jugular. He had enough supplies to fight the Sharks, but beyond that she had begun laying the groundwork for additional units drawing from sibkos that were just too young for Tau.
Her day was coming. She could almost taste it.
Serenity Valley, Jordan Wais
Outworlds Alliance
9 August 3055
The spaceport was little more than a traffic control center, a few fuel tanks and enough open space to land a dropship. There were none of the ferrocrete pads and runways usually expected, instead a field that had become overgrown repeatedly only to be blasted clear time and again by the infrequent visitors.
“What a barren wasteland!” the newest of those visitors declared. Ellison Enders clasped Ace’s hand and shook it vigorously. “I thought that the worlds of the Star League were beacons of civilization.”
Ace discreetly tried to work feelings back into his fingers once the Goliath Scorpion released his grip. From Ellison’s twinkling eyes, he had noticed. “This technically isn’t the Inner Sphere yet. I believe the original spaceport fell victim to fighting during the Periphery Uprising and this field expedient replacement is… a little overdue for upgrade.”
The older warrior chuckled. “I am certain that you industrious Diamond Sharks will see to it post-haste!”
“Given enough time and resources,” Ace allowed. “It took two centuries to build the homeworlds to their current condition so it may take us a few years here.”
A few was relative - Ace privately thought that he might be doing well to see significant change out here in his lifetime. Jordan Wais was about as far from Terra as any world of the Great Houses - five hundred and twenty seven light years distant - and while the Outworlds Alliance extended somewhat further out, it was far less expansive than it had once been. There were likely scores of lost colonies beyond it. Hopefully Barbara Sennet would not ask him to conquer those as well.
“This was part of the Star League though,” the Goliath Scorpion declared. “My crew will be eager to see if they can find relics of this era. Warm up for the real excitement.”
“Yes, I heard that you had been granted travel rights to our occupation zone in exchange for your support as a garrison. The details were sparse though. Where do you plan to go once your term of duty here is over?”
“New Samarkand!” Ellison’s eyes lit up with enthusiasm. “It was the last port of call for the Exodus Fleet before our ancestors left the Inner Sphere, there must be a wealth of history there.”
“There is a Cultural History Museum there,” Ace recalled. “House Kurita maintained, of course, so it presents a rather blinkered view of history.” He had visited, alone, during the celebrations of taking the world. Val, he supposed, would not have appreciated it. “I believe it is still being maintained.”
“It sounds like a good starting point!”
“I do not think I saw everything that it had to offer.” He paused and tried to think of what might interest the Goliath Scorpion. Ah, of course. “They display an aerospace fighter that was once the ride of the founder of the Draconis Combine.” An early model Sabre - ironic, Ace thought, since more modern examples of that same fighter had been used in the defense of Jordan Wais and other worlds.
“Wonderful!” Ellison declared. “I will pick your brains about everything you have seen! Now, does this forsaken planet at least have something worth drinking?”
“I have heard rumors that it may. Shall we investigate?”
There was a town that supported the spaceport, although it reminded Ace more of his childhood home than he was entirely comfortable with. Earthwork berms shielded Serenity Valley from the secondary effects of dropships landing (and from direct impacts if there was a crash) and from the winds that sometimes swept up the valley that gave the town its name.
It was an easy jeep drive from the drop port, if a bit winding in order to go around the berms, and Ellison looked around curiously as Ace drove. “This town is older than any in the homeworlds,” he concluded, nodding to a four storey structure that mixed shops on the lowest floor with residences above - the stone used to build it had worn down with edges between them rounded and in some cases patched. But it seems as if history has passed it by.”
“Perhaps it did,” Ace suggested as he found a parking space not far from a side street that he knew had a tavern along it.
Ellison checked his sidearm before getting out. “You do not need guards?”
“Nine-tenths of the time we go out here there is no issue, and most of the trouble we have is being refused service,” the Star Colonel told him. “Either they do not like our money, dislike we are armed or very occasionally simply protest that we aren’t local. We have only had one case of violence directed at my people here - and the man was so drunk it was embarrassing to everyone involved.”
“I am almost surprised you want a garrison here then. There is no resistance?”
“Very little in the sense that you mean,” Ace told him and indicated the side-street. “Most of the outlying settlements are farmers, and at least associated with the Omniss - a religion that abhors violence.”
“Yes.” Ellison snapped his fingers. “I have heard of them. They are no trouble?”
“As far as I can tell, they draw little line between governments, pirates or invaders.” He shrugged. “If I leave them alone, they cause no problems.”
The older man frowned at the idea. “Ah, but you need a garrison here anyway? From what I hear, the Outworlds Alliance is unlikely to try to take these worlds back.”
Ace found his destination. “The Alliance is the least likely problem. We are responsible for protecting these people, and for all the pirate bands we burned out along our way, there are more we never found. And I am sure the DCMS or AFFC would be delighted to be able to lay claim to the world, to offset some of their losses.”
Some of those pirate bands were still tying down troops long after they should not have been. Ace was still torn over whether or not he should visit Antallos personally to disentangle the detachment of the Twenty-Seventh Cruiser Cluster and finish handing the world over to its garrison, or sending Steven Hawker and the rest of the Cluster instead. That wasn’t the only fragment of Epsilon Galaxy that had been left behind as follow-up units lagged behind schedule to take over.
The tavern door swung open, a bell hung from it ringing to alert the occupants. Only a couple of tables were in use. The sight of two Clan warriors, both armed, got them a second look and the couple at one table stood and were on the way to the door before Ace reached the bar. They left money beside their half-finished meal, so the owner probably wouldn’t be too unhappy, Ace supposed.
“Two ciders and a mineral water,” he ordered at the bar, dropping some small change on the bar. He’d exchanged a few C-bills for the local’s Escudos, since for now it was what all the stores were accepting. Changing that would be time consuming.
“What? I appreciate being given two drinks but when did you start hitting the water?” Ellison asked while the barman fetched two green bottles from a cooler behind the door, and then rummaged under the bar for a slightly larger bottle that Ace strongly suspected had been filled with tapwater and then capped again.
At the least, if it had been capped then it was done professionally, he thought, passing Ellison one of the ciders. “I am drinking,” he told the older warrior, “Which means I am cutting this -” he waved the other bottle of cider, “- with water. It is quite strong otherwise.”
“Your lack of fortitude is noted,” the Goliath Scorpion noted. “I, however, have been drinking stronger stuff than this for years.”
“If you have been driving a ‘mech while dosed on that necrosia that your Clan swear by, you would not have been alive this long,” Ace retorted. “Taste it first, before you comment on the quality.”
They took over one of the many vacant tables and cracked the bottles. Ace watched with interest as Ellison took a healthy slug from his bottle. The grizzled Star Captain blinked furiously and then declared: “That is quite smooth.” The pitch of his voice slipped upwards just a little as the cider hit his belly.
“If you say so,” Ace noted, sipping rather more cautiously from his own bottle. The cider was indeed smooth going down. And then it kicked hard, if you were unwary. He drank from the water bottle next.
“So,” Ellison asked, lowering his voice and leaning closer. “I have heard a rumor…”
“There are a lot of rumors. Some of them even have a little truth to them.”
“Aff… but this one… I hear that some of your scientists introduced sea foxes on Pesht I did not know that any survived Ian Howell’s actions.”
Ace winced. “That one is true. A small number were preserved from the diamond sharks that he released. I gather it required cloning from samples taken from the dead to keep the population viable.”
Ellison sipped more respectfully from his cider. “And how do they take to Pesht?”
“Quite well,” Ace replied quietly. Unlike the earlier attempt to introduce the Diamond Sharks to those waters. “But Ellison, do not mention that to other Diamond Sharks. We are… sensitive when it comes to our Clan totem, old or new.” And then there were the whispers that it was an omen. Ace had not realized his Clan could be as superstitious as the Nova Cats, if in other ways. Then again, only the most arrogant believed the claims that their skill would let them control everything on a battlefield.
“So, when will you oust Abigail and take over the bloodhouse?” Ellison said, changing the subject with malicious timing.
Ace very nearly coughed up his cider and as it was he put the bottle down sharply and reached for his water. “What?” he managed. “When did I ever suggest doing that?”
“Well you outrank her,” the more senior member of the Enders bloodhouse pointed out. “And rumor has it that you have been fishing in political matters. Some would say it was a logical next step.”
“I am not the most popular member of the Bloodhouse,” he pointed out. “There are four votes I can count on being against me - Annika and her little coterie of Felipe worshipers.” The membership of the bloodhouse had shifted a little over the last few years, but since the absorption there were five Enders outside the Diamond Sharks. Annika and those who still resented Ace for daring to win his trial of refusal against the previous house leader constituted half of those within his own Clan.
Ellison laughed. “Four votes against you, but you would have at least six votes since four of us outside of you Sharks are still grateful that you shut him up - and the fifth was your candidate for the bloodname. Even if the rest went with feral little Annika, that’s close enough for a trial of refusal and I think that you would win.”
“No, you think it would be entertaining.”
“Yes, of course. But I still think you would continue your streak of murdering everyone in your path. After all, as the incumbent it is Abigail you would be fighting. Which is a foregone conclusion, so she would see it coming, resign and vote for you which would mean the vote is in your favor and you get to kill Annika, because she is far too egotistical to let anyone lose miserably against you.”
Ace shook his head and poured some of the water into his cider bottle to dilute what remained. “I am already busy with my duties to the Clan. As a commander and, yes, in politics. Running the bloodhouse’s affairs would be one more duty when I have little enough time. Unless Abigail does something foolish, I am content for her to continue leading the Enders.” He snorted. “It is not like I would have a cohesive voting bloc anyway.”
“It would let you start building one,” Ellison pointed out. “As House Leader you would have additional nominations for trials of bloodright.”
Tipping his bottle back, Ace sipped the contents, and said nothing.
The Goliath Scorpion’s eyes went wide. “You sneaky son of a bandit! You cut a deal.”
Ace smirked.
“How many,” Ellison demanded. “How many nominations did she make on your behalf?”
By custom, each bloodnamed warrior put forward one candidate for a trial of bloodright, with the total brought up to thirty-one by the House leader and the winner of the Grand Melee bringing the total to thirty-two candidates . Since the Enders were so few in number, it had been agreed that each bloodnamed warrior could make two nominations. Assuming one legacy nomination by the last holder of the vacant bloodright, that meant Abigail could nominate eight warriors to participate: her own two and six more.
Ace held up his free hand, fingers and thumb all extended.
The older member of the house snarled and studied the cider. “You owe me more than one drink, Ace Enders.”
“No fighting,” the bartender called in a tone that was probably intended to be a warning. “I do not want to make repairs again.”
Ellison paused and then studied Ace. “I thought you said there had only been one attack on your warriors.”
“It was here,” Ace admitted.
“Ah! Good choice of watering hole then.” Ellison looked around hopefully, and then, seeing no assailants. “Tell me all about it!”
Ace studied him for a moment and then shrugged. “He was very drunk. A farmer whose field we had marched across, I think.”
“And…?”
“He smashed a bottle on the table and came at me with it…” the young Galaxy commander reported. “Then he slipped on the puddle of beer from the bottle and fell over. He was lucky not to land on the glass.”
“That was it?”
Ace nodded, then paused and added honestly, pointing at the floor. “He vomited all over my boots as well.”
Ellison groaned. “This is going to be a very odd garrison assignment.”
-
Castle Arianrod, Coventry
Donegal March, Federated Commonwealth
1 September 3055
“You’re lucky we got called in for this,” Victor’s brother warned him as they walked towards the largest briefing room on the base. “I was just getting warmed up.”
Victor glanced across (and up) at Peter. “”Of course you were. That was why I’d out pointed you on every match for the last hour.”
“Please, forty minutes. I’ve been fighting the Clans, I didn’t have time to stay in practice. Unlike certain people, who have been living a lax life at an academy.”
That got a snort from the older brother. “Ask anyone who instructs at CMA how much spare time they have. Most people assigned to teach at an academy would trade in an instant for problems they were allowed to shoot.”
“And yet you had time to polish your tennis game like that?” Peter snorted.
“Mom insisted I do something social involving the fairer sex. Mixed doubles for tennis seemed a hell of a lot more tolerable than going to formal balls and dancing all night.”
“And that’s why you had an unfair advantage until I got warmed up.”
“It’s not an unfair advantage, it’s proper preparation,” Victor told him. “Would you be whining like this if it the First Hussars had kicked your company around because you hadn’t drilled them properly - which you had, this was just an example,” he added as his brother jerked around.
Peter’s eyes narrowed. “Not everything is war, little brother.”
“When it comes to women trying to get a wedding ring out of me, it damn well is, baby brother.” Victor pushed the door to the briefing room open, ending the conversation.
They weren’t late but they were also obviously the last to arrive - unavoidable as they had been off base at the tennis courts. While there was nothing inappropriate about that, neither of the Steiner-Davions had been on duty or on call except for priority summons like this one.
The fact that they were the most junior officers present - a Hauptmann and a Colonel - made it clear they were present in their royal capacities but they took the two lowest seats at the table anyway. Duke Bradford gave them both a nod before Marshal Simons cleared his throat. “As we have all arrived, there is no need to wait two more minutes to begin.”
Such side-conversations as there had been between the senior officers present died down and all heads turned towards the commander of the Seventeenth Skye Rangers. While he was only one among the Regimental Combat Team commanders present, Simons was senior - he’d been promoted for extracting what remained of the original regiment against orders, then transferred while his men were folded into the Tenth Lyran Guards. When those same soldiers were transferred to form cadre for a reborn Seventeenth Rangers, another promotion had marked Simon’s return - and made it clear that his actions had royal approval.
The Marshal who had denied the jumpships needed for an official evacuation had been neither rewarded nor punished, but he was very unlikely to receive another promotion, much less a frontline command.
“Seven hours ago, a small fleet of jumpships arrived at a non-standard jump point,” Simons announced. “Within thirty minutes, two other fleets appeared, each at another jump point deep within the star system. None are using the point between us and Wellston,” (Coventry’s only moon) “But we have only a few days, rather than the usual sixteen before dropships from those jumpships arrive over Coventry.”
“Three different fleets?” Adam Steiner cupped his chin. “Why would a Clan scatter their forces across the star system?”
James Ito of the Tenth Federated Commonwealth RCT shifted in his seat. “If they have warship escorts they hardly need to worry about being engaged in transit.”
“Each fleet does indeed contain a single warship as escort,” Simons confirmed. “As for why three, the answer has become apparent: it appears that we are about to be invaded by three different Clans.”
Victor raised his hand a few inches off the table for attention. “The three we might expect, or is a new Clan dealing themselves in?”
Simons looked down the table at him. “Your first guess was correct, Colonel. The attack forces represent Clans Jade Falcon, Nova Cat and Steel Viper. Initial estimates are that we will be entertaining a full galaxy from each Clan.”
Heads turned around the table. “I don’t think there’s ever been a case of all three Clans working together to attack a world, at least not since they resumed their invasion,” Ito observed slowly.
“The Vipers and the Falcons joined forces to retake Sargasso.” Kommandant-General Andrew Terlecki Jr’s Fifth Deneb Light Cavalry had been the unit that briefly managed to retake the world, so he would know. “But all three? Usually they would bid to take a world, but would they really send three Galaxies all the way here for two of them to turn back.”
“One galaxy cannot reasonably take Coventry,” Simons said heavily. “Two would be a gamble, with our current strength and the inexperience of some of our troops, but one that I would have some confidence in.”
“Are you saying that you cannot hold Coventry against three galaxies?” Thomas Bradford asked angrily. “There are eight regimental combat teams here!”
“Theodore Kurita was unable to protect Luthien from four galaxies of Diamond Sharks,” the Marshal said heavily. “He had twelve of the most formidable ‘mech regiments in the Inner Sphere, supported by all the auxiliary forces he could ask for at the time. I do not consider it a criticism of anyone here to say that two-thirds as many forces on our side may not suffice against three-quarters as many of the Clans.”
“Marshal, I will not claim that the Federated Commonwealth cannot survive without Coventry,” the Duke said ominously, “But…”
“Your grace,” Victor cut in politely, since as Duke of Sarna he was Bradford’s social equal. “I have my doubts about the stability of the Federated Commonwealth unless we made serious efforts to hold onto Coventry. The Marshal is speaking to guide our expectations - he is the last officer whose resolve can be questioned.”
Bradford paused at the words and then nodded. “My apologies for any implications I may have inadvertently offered, Marshal Simons.”
“It isn’t 3051 any more,” Peter said boldly. “We have upgraded ‘mechs and we know their tactics. Besides, with three Clans there is a great chance that they won’t work together!”
Adam turned his gaze upon Peter for a moment and then looked over at Victor. “I believe Galen Cox is laughing at us, Colonel Steiner-Davion.”
“He has reason,” Victor muttered, reaching up and rubbing the shoulder that had been dislocated a few years ago. It had to be phantom pain, he’d healed completely and it wasn’t impairing his tennis game at all. “My brother does make some good points, however.”
James Ito folded his hands. “With all due respect, Colonel, your last action against the Clans was in 3051, so you may not be in the best position to measure the differences. Yes, we have better equipment now, but that isn’t to say they haven’t learned some lessons as well.”
“A fair point,” the prince agreed. “But my brother has fought them more recently and we’ve discussed that repeatedly.” Then he leant back slightly in his chair. “My apologies for the interruptions, Marshal Simons.”
“You were on topic,” the Marshal allowed generously and then looked around the room. “Let there be no mistake, I intend to offer battle against the Clans. We have only days to rectify any issues outstanding with your units: you were all stationed here with the expectations of being sent back to the frontlines and now the frontlines have come to us.”
A chart of Coventry appeared. “It is extremely probable that the Clans will focus the bulk of their attention on Veracruz and Dunnigan, where the bulk of Coventry’s industry and strategic assets are located, but Sydnalia and Auckland also have potential targets that must be defended - which will be left to the Coventry DMM and the 8th Arcturan Guards until and unless it becomes apparent that they are safe from immediate threat.”
“That leaves two RCTs each to face the main attack if they do neglect to attack those continents,” Adam Steiner observed cautiously.”
“Correct,” Simons agreed. “Duke Bradford, may I ask you to coordinate the evacuation of Coventry Metal Works’ key research personnel and persons of political significance? We will also evacuate all cadets save for those in their final year at CMA - those nearing graduation will be needed as replacements.”
“Done,” Bradford agreed. “The timing?”
“Forty-eight hours,” the Marshal said flatly. “Every jumpship I can arrange will be jumping in at the pirate point between Coventry and Wellston, then fast-charging their drives to be able to leave before the Clan warships arrive. At that point we will be subject to blockade by the three warships. As much as I would like to be able to guarantee reinforcements or an evacuation route after that, the chances are slim.” He paused and then looked at Victor. “You and your brother...”
Victor shook his head. “I understand what you are about to say, Marshal but the situation is not the same as that on Trellwan five years ago. There was no hope of winning that fight, so evacuating those who could leave was the right call - however much I hate it. But now we have a chance, perhaps an even chance - and the soldiers will see my departure, and to a lesser extent Peter’s, as a sign that we do not have that chance. The impact on morale would be severe.”
“Galen told me you were stubborn.”
He gave Adam a rueful look. “I swear to you, Adam, if I thought for an instant it would be the right call I would dislocate Peter’s arm myself.”
“Hey!”
Victor ignored his brother. “The blockade of Coventry is a real problem, but unlike five years ago we have a solution. What ships are we facing?”
“All are cruisers of the Aegis-class,” Simons told him and then brightened. “Are you saying what I think you are saying?”
“There was an occasion in the Second Succession War when a squadron of warships blockaded Hesperus II,” the prince reminded them all. “In response, the Lyran Commonwealth sent their one remaining warship into battle. I remind you all: LCS Invincible has been restored to full operational capacity. Against three cruisers that predate the Star League, I believe the grand old lady will be willing to repeat her last battle.”
“Wouldn’t that strip her off the Tharkad garrison?” asked Kommandant-General Ito cautiously.
Simons nodded. “But Tharkad remains below the truce line. The best way to ensure that no warship enters the capital system is to make it clear that the Clans must honor threats above that line. Do you believe the Archon will authorize the deployment, your highness.”
“I know that the contingency has been discussed and conditionally approved,” he replied firmly. “With your permission, I will send a recommendation that the Invincible be moved into position to support either an evacuation or a reinforcement fleet, should you call for either.”
The Marshal ran one hand down his jaw, eyes lost in thought. “Opinions, gentlemen.”
“It risks an irreplaceable asset,” Ito warned, “But eight regimental combat teams is also far too large a slice of the AFFC to lose if it comes to that.”
Adam nodded reluctantly. “I do not like it, but the Clans have forced the situation upon us. Very well, your highness. But we are still going to have to be fast on our feet to handle three galaxies with our current forces.”
“It’s too early to commit to any specifics but where possible, we will adopt a mobile campaign,” Simons decided. “Plan on your units marching to avoid action where we can, presenting a continued force that they cannot ignore without being drawn into decisive engagements on their terms. Our only hard point that we really want to deny the Clans is the production lines at Coventry Metal Works, but that will inevitably make Port St Williams the one objective that the Clans will inevitably focus upon.”
“So a lot of poking at them to draw forces away from there, without actually being caught,” Victor observed. “That’s going to lean heavily on our lighter ‘mechs and hover cavalry.”
“Perhaps not so much if we can draw them into the Cross-Divide mountains,” proposed Terlecki. “You could lose an army in those valleys and mine workings. As long as we sally out to harass them from the mountains, they cannot ignore us, but the terrain will mitigate the Clans’ usual advantages.”
“It may be possible to move some of the tooling from Coventry Metal Works into the mountains,” suggested Adam thoughtfully.
There was a pained noise from the direction of Duke Bradford.
“I don’t know if we can before the landings,” Simons admitted. “But unless they drop directly on them it may be possible to have some of the firms manufacturing armor and munitions pack up their factories. Supplying them would be a nightmare but it would allow an extended campaign if it comes to that.”
“The longer we’re drawing this out, the longer we’re tying up some of the Clans’ frontline troops,” Victor pointed out. “How many frontline galaxies ddid you say they have, Peter?”
His brother perked up on being asked to contribute. “All three Clans have three frontline galaxies in the Inner Sphere, we’d be tying down roughly a third of their striking power with about… no, not even a third of our own heavy combat units!”
“Exactly,” Victor agreed. “Which takes that much pressure off the fighting along the rest of the frontline. As nice as it would be for us to win, we don’t have to. We just have to not lose and we’ll be forcing them to commit troops and supplies that could be hitting us elsewhere.”
“That,” Terlecki agreed, “Is a strategy that could hit them hard. The Clans can keep their omnimechs in action with remarkably little maintenance time, but they still go through the same supplies anyone does - if anything they expend more resources in that time. And their cockpits are not made for long operations. It’s not as bad as a Stinger, but I would hate to be in some of their light and medium ‘mechs for more than a few hours.”
“Very well.” Simons turned to Victor’s own commander, William Waters, who had kept a politic silence so far. “I would like your Hussars and my own Rangers to move into the mountains before the landings, to prepare the region for an extended defense.”
“Sir.”
“The Arcturan Guards and Coventry DMM will cover the outlying continents initially as I mentioned earlier, although you are authorized to withdraw rather than be destroyed if the Clans throw substantial forces at them. Otherwise you will act as a strategic reserve to be called on once we have a better idea of their strategy,” the Marshal continued. “Kommandant-General Steiner, your Twelfth Donegal Guards are to reinforce the Third Davion Guards around Coventry Metal Works. If the Clans try a massed landing there, I must count on you to make it as bloody as possible for them.”
Both Adam and Kommandant-General Seymour confirmed their understanding.
“General Ito, your charge is to evacuate Coventry Academy - cadets, machines, all data… you know what needs to be taken to the mountains.”
“Should we demolish the installations to keep them from being used?”
“No,” Simons decided. “We may well be able to recover them, and if they decide to make use of the complex then we know it better than they do.”
Victor nodded appreciatively as the Marshal planned ahead.
“Finally, General Terlecki, your Deneb Light Cavalry will need to be on your toes. I want them to act as a reaction force once we know how the landings are developing. Expect me to throw you into the path of one of those galaxies, but I think you understand that your role is not to be a wall.”
“No,” the cavalryman agreed with a vicious smile. “We’re to be the cheese grater.”
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That's a nice start indeed. :thumbsup:
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I love "cheese grater"! ;D
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The space-side battle will be tremendous. Clan versions of the Aegis are big and slow, but well armored and carry a terrifying number of NACs alongside four dropships and 20 Omnifighters each.
The best chance for the Invincible to take on a Clan Aegis is to focus one at a time and stay at range. A Tharkad carries Heavy Naval Gauss Rifles and plenty of NL-45/55s alongside Medium and Heavy NPPCs, and can also outrun an Aegis by being at 3/5 vs 2/3. Bring a trio of Vengeance-class carrier dropships to augment your existing fighter wing, a Mule for cargo, maybe a pair of Achilles for close-in support, and use long range fire + waves of ASF strikes to wear down the Clan cruisers one at a time.
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The space-side battle will be tremendous. Clan versions of the Aegis are big and slow, but well armored and carry a terrifying number of NACs alongside four dropships and 20 Omnifighters each.
The best chance for the Invincible to take on a Clan Aegis is to focus one at a time and stay at range. A Tharkad carries Heavy Naval Gauss Rifles and plenty of NL-45/55s alongside Medium and Heavy NPPCs, and can also outrun an Aegis by being at 3/5 vs 2/3. Bring a trio of Vengeance-class carrier dropships to augment your existing fighter wing, a Mule for cargo, maybe a pair of Achilles for close-in support, and use long range fire + waves of ASF strikes to wear down the Clan cruisers one at a time.
The Clanner Aggie has another weakness: it's weak on point defense, while not being fast enough NOT to be stuck on defense against a more maneuverable opponent.
Aerofighters with strike packages can absolutely ruin an Aggie's day, and even the Clanner version doesn't carry enough fighters to run CAP AND run strike missions.
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Also make sure to keep them Batchalls coming, so the clanners do not break Zellbrigen on the Invincible. :D
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It's three warships from three different clans, they are all going to try to claim a warship kill, due to their different positions they will come under the Invincible's guns individually.
Good to see that Ace is starting to ace politicking as well. And due to his different upbringing he has a great advantage, he is more interested in getting things done his way, than winning prestige.
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It's three warships from three different clans, they are all going to try to claim a warship kill, due to their different positions they will come under the Invincible's guns individually.
Good to see that Ace is starting to ace politicking as well. And due to his different upbringing he has a great advantage, he is more interested in getting things done his way, than winning prestige.
In the end, getting things done one´s own way (within certain limits) is just another way of winning prestige, even among the Clans. Otherwise, Aidan Pryde (both here and in canon) would never have redeemed himself.
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However Aidan Pryde is very much an outlier amongst the clanners. Warship commanders had little chance for glory ever since the wolverines were crushed, with opportunity to engage a Spheriod warship it is doubtful they will think completely rational.
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Opalescent Reflections
Stacking the Deck
Chapter 13
Cross-Divide Mountains, Coventry
Donegal March, Federated Commonwealth
31 October 3055
Tanks burned behind Aidan Pryde as his Summoner ran forwards, already bringing his pulse laser and PPC to bear on another Manticore. The two shots peeled open much of the tank’s flank, severing the link of tracks under the armor.
The slew as the driver tried to correct threw off the gunner by enough that the tank’s gunner missed with his PPC. That was the problem with tanks, in Aidan’s experience. Only the very best crews had the cohesion to act like the fingers of a single hand, co-operating perfectly.
It was not a problem mechwarriors had to deal with.
The Manticore’s missiles had some capacity to track, but unlike his own missile launcher, Aidan’s anti-missile system wasn’t out of ammunition and it chattered away, ripping missiles away from the salvo until only two or three smashed into the Summoner. Nothing to worry about, if he hadn’t been taking minor damage like this all day.
“Aidan, we cannot go much further,” Horse warned.
His old friend fired his jump-jets, propelling his Hellbringer up and over tracer fire from a heavier tank with quad-autocannon. It might have been a Partisan, but before Aidan’s targeting computer could confirm that, the Hellbringer’s PPCs fired down into the top-deck of the tank and found a fuel tank. The heavy tank was consumed in fire and Aidan didn’t bother looking further at it.
“I know,” he admitted. Two understrength trinaries had already been stripped away to cover cross-valleys in case the AFFC surged out of them to try to encircle the Gyrfalcon Guards, the way they already had Marthe’s Second Falcon Jaegers. Ammunition was running low and battle damage was mounting. “The next valley,” he conceded. “If we do not make contact then, we will withdraw.”
“I will hold you to that.”
Aidan fired into a Bulldog, covering Horse as the Hellbringer cooled from the massive burden on its heatsinks from firing both PPCs while using the jump-jets. His shots ripped open the missile launcher on the right-side of the tank’s turret and explosions tore across to the other one. The tank chassis itself kept moving, but armed only with a machine gun it was no real threat and a Kit Fox rushed close, dropping off four Elementals who tore into the tank, cracking open the driver’s compartment.
Aidan and Horse were moving on with the vanguard, climbing up the slope to where a ridge separated this valley from the next - each gouged at some point by a different limb of the mighty glacier that had once carved its way down through the mountains. Iron ore had been mined out of the sides of the mountains for centuries, but there was more than enough to wreak havoc on magnetic scanners, while mobile and hidden transmitters were sending out waves of jamming that made coordinating between efforts in different valleys a nightmare.
A Viper and a Kit Fox moved past them, the low-slung omnimechs poking up over the line of the ridge to check for opposition before anything larger and easier to hit tried that.
The caution paid off as a fusillade of laser fire slashed over and into the ridge, narrowly missing the Kit Fox and slashing across the side of the Viper’s cockpit - fortunately not penetrating.
“They are friendly!” shouted Mechwarrior Alexander from the Kit Fox.
“You call that friendly, quineg?!” the Viper pilot disagreed at the top of his voice.
“They are Jade Falcons! We found the Jaegers!”
“They shot at us!”
“Those two facts are not necessarily contradictory,” Aidan pointed out, to shut the pair’s argument down. He switched to the proper channel. “Star Colonel Marthe Pryde, do you read me? Does anyone in the Second Falcon Jaegers hear this?”
For a moment he thought that there would be no reply, but then his comms suite managed to pick up and decipher a signal from the far side of the ridge. “This is Star Captain Jacob Eagle, Trinary Charlie, Second Falcon Jaegers. Who is this?”
“Star Colonel Aidan Pryde,” he identified himself. “I believe my Gyrfalcon Guards are just south of your position, someone just shot at my scouts.”
“The only things south of us right now are Feddie tanks,” Eagle replied sharply. “Unless… Star Colonel, tell me where we build our Kit Foxes?!”
“Ironhold’s Number Nine Industrial Complex,” Aidan shot back. Only someone familiar with the Jade Falcon capital world would know that automatically.
“Forgive me, Star Colonel,” the Star Captain said apologetically. “There has been one attempt to lure us out already.”
Aidan shook his head. “A reasonable precaution, but what is your situation? We forced our way through but we cannot hold this ground for long. There are too many routes for the FedCom to reinforce through the valleys.”
Marthe’s voice cut into the channel. “Aidan, Jacob just patched me in and I caught most of that. I am making my best speed towards you now. Jacob, link up now with the Gyrfalcon Guards - the rest of us are close behind you.”
Pushing his Summoner up, Aidan kept his cockpit just below the crest of the ridge. “Star Captain, I am about to step up into view. If you shoot me, then be sure to get a kill shot. Marthe, we will hold as long as we can for you.”
Taking a few steps further, he lifted the top of the Summoner up and into view of those in the next valley. Thankfully no one took shots at him, although his sensors warned that the targeting sensors of a half-dozen ‘mechs were locking on.
After a moment’s hesitation, the omnimechs surged towards him - Kit Foxes and Fire Moths for the most part. One of the Kit Foxes slowed as it reached Aidan’s position, while the others flowed south to join the Gyrfalcon Guards behind him. He saw Elementals clinging to the battered light ‘mechs, no more than two or three to an omnimech and most of them showing the black stains of harjel leaking out to seal penetrations to their armor.
“Star Captain Eagle?”
“Aff. Thank you for breaking through for us,” the Jade Falcon said shortly. “We broke the first attempt to crush us in the valley but we were short of ammunition and it was only a matter of time before their ‘mechs were able to repair and rejoin the fight.”
“Did you not try to break out?” asked Horse, moving his Hellbringer up to the ridge. Others of the Gyrfalcon Guards joined them, forming a loose firing line.
“Of course! But for every tank we destroyed there seemed to be three more.” Eagle sighed heavily. “They could have crushed us with that alone, but I think they knew we would inflict lesser losses if they brought their ‘mechs as well.”
Aidan checked his comm suite. “All Guards, be aware that FedCom ‘mechs are in the area. They must know we are here.” And if they smashed through the flanks, they might snare a second Cluster for their trouble.
Another cluster of Omnimechs raced towards them, larger in number but also mostly light and medium designs. “Bravo Trinary,” Eagle identified. “And what is left of Delta. Most of our elementals.”
“Come on, Marthe,” Aidan snarled under his breath. “What are you waiting for?”
As if in response to his words, the heavier ‘mechs of Trinary Alpha and the Command Star came into view. Three Summoners were among the twelve survivors, but even at this distance he was sure he could identify Marthe’s ride by its movements alone. They had known each other for a lifetime, after all. Learned to pilot ‘mechs together. Even shared their trial of position…
He grimaced at the reminder of that black day when Marthe had scored him as one of her kills to begin her climb in rank, relegating him to a technician. That, by all rights, should have parted them forever but in a curious way Aidan was no longer angry at that. She had made the choice that was right for her, just as his recklessness had suited him… and the two paths had brought them both here.
And then his relief broke off as sensors wailed in warning.
“Enemy ‘mechs!” Eagle snapped, starting to turn his Kit Fox around as the Jade Falcon ‘mechs in view broke into a dangerously fast run for the steep slopes of the valley, each twisting to bring the weapons in at least one arm around to bear behind them.
Aidan hunched his Summoner over. “Bounding retreat, five hundred meter intervals. Horse, form the next line.”
“Eagle, you are with me!” the freeborn commanded, backing his Hellbringer up.
“We can not leave the Star Colonel!”
“You will not help her by charging in,” Aidan told him. “We will give covering fire to her until she reaches us, then you give us covering fire in turn, quiaff?”
“...aff,” the officer agreed reluctantly and his Kit Fox turned to follow Horse’s mech down the valley.
The pursuit was not ‘mechs of equivalent size, Aidan assessed as he forced himself to wait until they reached effective range of his PPC. Lighter and faster ‘mechs that could overtake the Summoners and other heavy omnimechs. He saw Wolfhounds and Commandos, backed by a pair of Phoenix Hawks, a Cicada and…
The Centurion showering a limping Stormcrow with LRMs was not falling behind the fast moving ‘mechs. That wasn’t entirely a surprise, there had been reports of upgraded Centurions with more powerful engines during earlier battles. But the ‘mech was paired with two others that Aidan’s targeting computer tagged as Hatchetman but with low confidence. The cockpit design did not match and it was certainly too fast, on par with the other ‘mechs.
No, faster. Aidan’s jaw dropped as indicators clocked the new ‘mechs as moving at close to a hundred and twenty kilometers an hour, almost catching a nimble Locust that he hadn’t seen until now.
There was no way a Hatchetman could move that fast without a major upgrade.
A Hellbringer was trailing at the back of the pack and it turned to fight, a knowing sacrifice as the pursuit fanned out to outflank and harass the Jaeger’s from all directions. The mechwarrior inside scored two hits on one of the mystery ‘mechs with its twin large lasers.
Neither shot seemed to penetrate - not surprising against a fresh ‘mech and Aidan saw the Hellbringer stagger as streams of laser pulses bit into it. The thermal signatures of the Feddie ‘mechs were high, hovering at a point that he would expect to impair them but they were doing more damage to the Omnimech than it had done in return.
And unlike the rest of the force, they didn’t try to avoid a close encounter. The rest of their force was using the width of the valley to try for an encirclement, those of them without the range to hit Marthe’s force pushing to get ahead of her. But these two…
They each had the mounted axe of a Hatchetman, and they leapt upon the Hellbringer like falcons swooping down on a mouse. The axes swept down and they must have practiced together because the heavy omnimech took crushing blows. The left arm - where both large lasers were mounted - went spinning away, severed entirely. The other arm wasn’t severed, but the side of the ‘mech was caved in to the point control runs must have been damaged, and the ammunition bins that would have fed weapons there must have been empty already because there was no explosion when the pod-space there was visibly torn open.
Marthe skidded her Summoner to a halt. “Aidan, get out of here!”
The other Feddies were getting ahead of her. She was not going to escape.
“Retreat,” Aidan ordered, but his voice was barely a whisper as he watched his sibkin turn to fight her last battle.
“Sir?” asked one of the mechwarriors with him.
“I said pull back!” he shouted, forcing the words out. “Horse, full retreat!” They would have to move fast if they were going to win this race.
But he couldn’t bring himself to move. Couldn’t look away.
The new and unknown mechs, light gray and marked with the sword and shield he knew belonged to the Avalon Hussar, tackled Marthe’s Summoner with lasers flashing. One was illuminated by a flash as the other Star Colonel fired her PPC into it at point blank range. It was the undamaged one, but the shot didn’t penetrate. That worried Aidan in the back of his mind - a mech that fast, that well armed… and that armored? That was surprisingly good.
The axes rose and fell, driving the Summoner to one knee.
Then they rose and fell again, one of them cleaving the heavy ‘mech’s cockpit in two, at an angle that must have crossed the pilot’s seat.
The sight broke Aidan’s inability to move. He spun his Summoner and without firing a single shot at the incoming ‘mechs he raced the heavy ‘mech after his command, struggling to get every iota of performance out of the myomers of his ‘mechs legs.
They crashed down the valley, falling back on the flank guards. Aidan said nothing as he saw Diana rejoin them safely, a fear he had not given form to until that moment.
At each narrows, he dreaded learning that enough forces might have arrived to slow them until pursuit could catch up. At each, he was relieved.
“What are we running from?” Joanna demanded.
“The tanks we fought earlier belong to the Arcturan Guards,” he said flatly. “The ‘mechs back there are Avalon Hussars. There’s two regimental combat teams in these valleys and we are too far from our logistics. If they tear into us before we reach the hills we will be worn down and shredded by one force after another.”
“Friendly air cover is here!” Horse called, waving his Hellbringer’s arm up ahead.
Aidan looked up and saw the silhouette of a pair of Visigoths streaking up the valley towards them. “Trinary Echo, do you read me?” he asked on the channel for the Guards air cover.
“We read you, Star Colonel Pryde. I am glad the orders reached you. The dropships are relocating to a landing zone as near as possible.”
“I have received no new orders,” he replied. “What should I have heard?”
The pilot paused and the fighters flashed past above Aidan. Then they pulled up, arching up above the valley. “The Nova Cats report that their cruiser Blood Oath has taken crippling damage, sir. An unknown battlecruiser used a pirate point and inflicted heavy damage. It is tentatively identified as a Lyran Tharkad-class vessel.”
“I thought they had no warships?!”
“Someone does,” the pilot replied bluntly. “Khan Chistu and Star Colonel Redmond are out of contact. Star Colonel Hoyt has taken command and ordered an evacuation.”
“Not for our warships to fight it?” One battlecruiser was bad, but they still had two cruisers.
“On last report, the CSV Steep Python was making for their jumpships. Star Commodore Binetti reports that the odds of his defeating a cruiser of that class with only the support of our aerospace forces is slim, there are at least two large aerospace carrier dropships supporting the Tharkad.”
“I understand.” We have lost, Aidan thought. “Send me the landing zone data for my Cluster and the Second Jaegers. Inform the dropship commanders and Star Colonel Hoyt that I endorse the decision to evacuate.”
Unity City, North America
Terra, Sol System
17 November 3055
Wellston was visible in the background as light flared in Coventry’s orbital space. The electromagnetic pulse bloomed outwards, forming a visible sphere for a brief moment.
When the light faded a long, grey hull was left behind, gold and royal blue trim just barely visible. Tiny in comparison to the mass of their parent vessel, dropships detached and - barely specs marked by their fusion thrusters - aerospace fighters were hurled out into the void.
Finally, surrounded by a small task group of the escorts it had carried, the battlecruiser’s own engines came to life and it began to accelerate in the general direction of the camera that had taken the images.
“The satellite wasn’t in position to observe the resulting battle, but one of the three cruisers brought by the Clans suffered major damage and was ultimately scuttled when it was clear that it couldn’t reach a jump point in time to escape,” Elswick Cameron reported.
“Salvageable?” Precentor Martial Focht enquired.
“Unclear at this time,” the Precentor reported. “We understand that the Federated Commonwealth plan to recover the hull but so far that has been a low priority in the aftermath of Coventry. Most likely a salvage crew will visit in the next month to check that the remains aren’t an active hazard and carry out a preliminary survey.”
Wei glanced around the informal little gathering of her advisors. The weather had precluded using a beach but they were at least in a nice lounge with drinks available. No one seemed to have more questions on that point so she gave Cameron a nod. “So once the Invincible had penetrated their blockade, the Clans withdrew?”
“Reports suggest that efforts in digging the defenders out of the Cross-Divide Mountains weren’t making any significant progress,” he added. “While most of Coventry was notionally under Clan control, the fighting had consolidated almost entirely to the regions around those mountains. Coventry Military Academy had been occupied by the Jade Falcons and we believe a number of outlying factories feeding Coventry Metal Works had been damaged in attempts to seize the main battlemech factories but there was relatively little impact on most of Coventry’s population. The campaign was essentially stalled.”
Focht nodded solemnly. “The Invincible could not be neglected: either the Clans destroyed her or she would have freedom to threaten their jumpships or even bombard the Clans’ landing zones from orbit the way she did the Kuritas back in her last battle, two hundred years ago.” He shrugged. “I doubt Duke Bradford would have been pleased by orbital fire against the Clans, and it might have opened up the WMD question again, but the jumpship threat alone would have been enough.”
Wei was glad that orbital bombardment had not been attempted. “Excuse me: ‘she’?”
“Convention has it that ships are referred to as female, Primus.”
She gestured towards the display. “Oh please, you’re telling me that the long phallic object driving into the Clan’s rear is a strap on?”
There were groans from some of those in the room. Dahlia Erin picked up a slice of tart from the plate on her lap. “Well the Archon is a woman, Primus.” Then she bit neatly into the tart.
“And she has some impressive toys,” Wei observed.
“Be that as it may,” Cameron continued determinedly, “A concerted effort by the two remaining warships might have threatened the Invincible, but we believe that there was a failure in coordination and the Steel Viper’s cruiser departed rapidly for their jumpships, presumably to secure them against attack. The remaining cruiser, tentatively identified as a Jade Falcon vessel, avoided direct action and provided coverage for dropships taking off and making for the various jump points, until they were far enough away that there was no serious risk of Invincible intercepting those flotillas.”
“With only one smaller warship to face… them,” enquired Focht, “I am surprised Invincible didn’t try to push for an engagement.”
Precentor Zwick shook his head. “We don’t know how much damage the old girl took fighting the first warship,” he pointed out. “And covering Coventry against any bombardment attempts by the Clans as they withdrew probably took priority.”
“Ah, a good point.” Focht shook his head. “I would appreciate a refresher for my staff on warship considerations now that the Federated Commonwealth has deployed them. Their use was not part of my practical experience and it is something we will have to get used to dealing with.”
“Of course, sir. I’ll contact your staff to schedule a brief seminar.”
Wei glanced around the room. “Does anyone have any speculations as to what will happen now?”
“We are looking at a new phase of the war,” Focht declared firmly. “For the first time since Camlann, the Clans have been stopped cold. “Between that and the fact that there are very few Combine worlds left above the truce line, I expect at least a lull in offensive actions on the part of the Clans.”
She paused and then nodded in agreement. “And from the other side?”
“We know the AFFC is planning for an eventual counter-offensive,” Cameron told her. “But they would also benefit from breathing space. More than sixty of their military commands have been in heavy combat, some of them taking serious losses or even lost entirely. A year or two would let them replace much of that, as well as finish up the first of their new warships.”
Zwick nodded. “Invincible’s success was to some degree due to surprise. Now that she is expected, the Clans will prepare forces to fight her, so in turn the Steiner-Davions will want to be able to provide escorts.”
“I see.” Wei pinched the brow of her nose. “And we know that the Clans are still discussing the possibility of renouncing the truce and racing towards Terra. A significant number of the First Circuit find the prospect of occupation by even the most mild of the Clans unacceptable, much less the idea of the Smoke Jaguars arriving and doing… as they have to many other worlds.”
“And the Smoke Jaguars are unscathed by the recent fighting,” added Focht. “If the truce were broken tomorrow then they or Clan Wolf would pose the largest threat.”
The Primus leant forwards. “Archon Melissa Steiner-Davion has asked that ComStar serve in its traditional role as a neutral mediator, offering the three Clans that have been fighting the Federated Commonwealth a formal ceasefire along the current border until the expiry of the current truce. Given that she has also asked for discussions for coordinated military action if and when the truce is no longer in effect, I do not think she will be negotiating in good faith but I cannot refuse on the basis of mere suspicion.”
Cameron considered that for a moment. “Most probably the offer will be pushing against an open door. All three Clans have expended a great deal of their manpower and supplies over the last three years. My analysts believe that a coordinated attack on Coventry was a last ditch attempt to cripple the Commonwealth’s local logistics so that they could push up to the truce line before they ran out of steam. Now that that’s failed, an armistice will be in their short-term interests.”
Erin set down her plate with a clink. “Both sides have a vested interest in a pause, neither has any intention of ceasing the war entirely. Such an agreement will be made, then broken by whichever feels they have advantage first.”
“If only they agreed to one or two more things,” Wei observed. “And the Archon wants us to be that advantage for her?”
“To be fair,” Zwick noted, “After Camlann, I doubt any of the Clans would allow us to retain our accustomed role. We know they’re bringing in their own HPGs to build up an alternative network to ours.”
“So I either commit to aid the Federated Commonwealth and their allies, or we get driven out of around a quarter of the Inner Sphere, exposing billions of people under our protection to… questionable circumstances.” She lowered her eyes and contemplated the floor. “That is not a complicated decision.”
“I am fairly sure we all know how the First Circuit will vote,” Cameron pointed out, not without some sympathy.
“I am the Primus. Responsibility stops with me.” Wei considered resignation, but that would be as good as a decision since she knew what any successor would be forced to do. And there were the whispers that she was not supposed to hear, suggesting that a decisive and overwhelming strike against the Clans would eliminate the threat. Mobilizing Terra’s industry to produce an arsenal of weapons of mass destruction to be employed from their fleet, which was almost certainly larger than any single Clan’s.
It could be done.
Wei Rong felt strongly that it should not be. Unlike those of the Order raised on Terra, she had seen the Succession Wars first hand. It had driven her to study how and why the earlier wars had been worse still than those she lived through.
She took a deep breath. “The Captain-General and the Chancellor have offered to open discussions of further support to the combatants. In fact, Chancellor Liao has taken the initiative of opening communications with the major periphery states to include them.”
“I am sure that went well,” Focht snorted.
“I have received messages from Taurus, Canopus IV and Alpheratz,” Wei continued, “Enquiring as to the scheduling of a conference to discuss a unified front against the Clans.”
You could have heard a pin drop.
“I believe,” Cameron said at last, “That we have Clan Diamond Shark’s attack on the Outworlds to thank for this.”
“Not that that will stop Sun-Tzu Liao from claiming credit. Not that it matters,” Wei allowed. “I suppose I have little option but to call such a conference now. We may never again have the chance to bring the leaders of the Inner Sphere like this. Even if it does mean taking their side.”
“You find that hard to accept,” Erin asked mildly. “May I ask your reasons, Wei?”
She looked at the other woman and then sat back in her chair. “The Order will not survive in its current form. Whatever happens, the Clans have eliminated our monopoly on HPG communications and our technological advantages. We need a new direction and I do not believe force of arms is that path. It is necessary, I know that… but it is not enough.”
“You may be surprised that I agree,” the Precentor Martial declared. “The ComGuards will defend the Order, but we are not the source of its legitimacy and we never can be. And given the nature of our territory, we cannot maintain a nation in the vein of one of the Successor States.”
Cameron looked curious. “If we could reach a point where we have a stable framework to interact with the Clans, would you accept neutrality with them, Primus?”
She looked at him in surprise. “Of course. Humanity is hardly short of armed factions, one less won’t hurt. Points of stability are harder to come by.”
“I will be sure to bring any suggestions along those lines towards your attention then,” Precentor Rho assured her, taking another slice of tart.
“That would be appreciated,” Wei told her. “Anyway, we could be looking at Magestrix Emma Centrella visiting in person. Protector Calderon prefers to send his son Jeffrey -”
“I wonder if he is aware that if he left Taurus there is a better than average chance he would no longer be Protector on his return,” Cameron mused.
“Perhaps,” she allowed judiciously. Thomas Calderon was a tireless proponent of defending the Concordat from military invasion, but that made him seem just a little ridiculous when there had been no credible likelihood of that in Wei’s lifetime. Certainly, both the Capellans and the Federated Commonwealth would be delighted to add the worlds to their respective domains, but both were well aware that the Taurians had a drastically different view of the acceptable use of nuclear warheads than most of the Inner Sphere. The cost of such an invasion would vastly outweigh the benefits.
The Protector’s erroneous claims that the reports of a Clan invasion were a ruse to trick him into relaxing the high military readiness he insisted on might be the final straw. Reports suggested that the Taurian Defense Forces had elements near to rebellion as a result of minimal personal leave time over a span of decades, not to mention that they weren’t free to respond to pirate attacks for fear of reducing the defenses against the AFFC.
“Similarly,” she continued, “President Avellar has nominated his son Mitchell to represent him. Presumably because he’s holding the Alliance together by little more than his personal example right now.”
Erin tilted her head slightly. “It may also be formal preparation for Mitchell to assume power. His father has never been enthusiastic about his own fitness for office, and now that his son is of age he may be preparing to abdicate.”
“I can empasize,” Wei admitted, “But it would be poor timing.”
“There would be an almost Draconian sense of taking responsibility for losing so much of the Alliance to the Diamond Sharks,” murmured Focht. “Not that poor Neil Avellar had any choice in the matter - he has done everything he can within the limits of his office to aid the Alliance Military Corps.”
The Outworlds Alliance was the poorest of the major periphery realms and their government the weakest. The need for unanimous support for major initiatives made military investment very difficult given the vocal pacifist voting bloc within their electorate. In a happier, more peaceful era this would be of little harm. Alas, they and Wei had to deal with the ambitions of the Great Houses and now the Clans.
“At least House Avellar will be represented. All eight of the Great Houses in one place. Not even Hanse Davion’s wedding commanded that level of attendance.”
Focht chuckled at Erin’s words. “Let us hope that no one has marital ambitions then.”
“I think that Minoru Kurita might appreciate being offered the return of Pesht Military District in exchange for his sister’s hand in marriage,” Wei said drily. “I don’t think that it’s practical, but he would no doubt be happy if it was.”
“More seriously,” the head of ComStar’s spies warned, “The three periphery realms will no doubt be very sensitive to any suggestions that they are being given less consideration than their Inner Sphere counterparts. They might all rattle if they were inside of the Free Worlds League, but given the way that they were treated under the Star League.”
“That might be the point,” Wei thought out loud. “Behind Chancellor Liao pushing for their involvement, I mean.”
Focht frowned. “How so?”
“The Draconis Combine and Capellan Confederation have been arguably reduced to third-rate powers compared to the Federated Commonwealth and Free Worlds League,” she pointed out. “But if we’re giving equal consideration to Houses Avellar, Calderon and Centrella then we can hardly do less for House Kurita and the two rival Houses Liao. At least the Archon and the Captain-General are both fairly diplomatic.”
She wasn’t anything like as confident that the First Prince would be as kind to his realm’s traditional enemies, both of them now much reduced. Hanse Davion was brilliant, but he could also take his natural confidence to the point of being offensively smug.
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The Triad, Tharkad
Donegal Province, Federated Commonwealth
9 December 3055
“You should follow Victor’s example and take a nice desk posting for a while,” Arthur Steiner-Davion suggested to his brother.
“Don’t get too ambitious, squirt. The Third went two rounds with the Falcons already,” Peter asserted. “Unlike someone who is still wet behind the ears.”
Was I that obnoxious about not wanting to go to Sarna? Victor wondered as he listened to his brothers’ bickering. Arthur had graduated from Sanglamore just this year and been posted to the First Royal Guards on Tharkad rather than the frontlines. He was obviously chafing and Peter wasn’t exactly being gracious about lording his combat experience over the youngest Steiner-Davion brother. I don’t think I’d like an honest answer.
“What do you think, Victor?” Arthur demanded. “I should get my chance!”
“In total honesty,” he said after a moment’s reflection, “I don’t think Peter is ready for a teaching position.”
“Exactly!” the tallest of the three exclaimed, missing the intended reprimand.
“But after the last few years, the Third Davion Guards could do with a quieter posting while they rebuild,” Victor continued. “Maybe a nice quiet spot watching the Taurian border.”
Peter snarled and then grabbed a drink from the one of the trays being carried around. “Not bloody likely.”
With a slight smile, Victor turned to Arthur. “Keep doing your best here on Tharkad, Arthur. You’ll get your chance to show what you can do. You’re just getting your rear area ticket punched first - which is what I thought I was getting on Trellwan.”
“Thanks, Victor!” the boy exclaimed.
Victor wondered if Arthur would keep the enthusiasm after his first time on a battlefield. Coventry had been a victory, but it had not been won cheaply. Losses had been roughly proportionate, according to the analysts... which added up to a dreadful toll upon the AFFC’s soldiers.
“I’m going to go check in on the naval heroes,” he gestured towards nearest officer wearing the naval variant of a dress uniform, hoping that neither brother knew that Rear Admiral Charlton had come up through comms and was currently embedded in the naval branches’ administration, meaning that he was only enjoying reflected glory from the Invincible’s part on Coventry. “You two… well, don’t do anything I wouldn’t.”
“Okay, one raid behind enemy lines coming on!” Arthur joked.
Victor hoped he was joking, at least. Still, Arthur wouldn’t be able to get too far if he did try that - Peter would rat him out if he had to.
While external balconies weren’t commonly used on Tharkad, the weather making them less than hospitable, there were plenty of deep window bays that were partly separated from the main hallways that the party was spilling through by heavy drapes. Not enough to allow complete privacy, but they were cooler than the halls and offered some anonymity. Victor threaded through the party, glad that even if his face was well known his stature meant he couldn’t be identified at long distances, and managed to duck into one of the window bays for a moment’s privacy.
He had just tugged his uniform collar open so that he could enjoy the cooler air fully when he was joined in the space.
“Excuse me,” he began, reluctantly preparing to close up his collar again. A woman with him meant his uniform had to be immaculate or rumors would spread, “I… Omi?”
Unusually for his experience of the Kurita princess, she was dressed up without resorting to a formal kimono. Her gown had a black body and flowing skirts of royal blue. “Victor.” She gave him a fond smile and nodded towards his rank tabs.
Victor’s hand went up to the tabs, almost shifting to hide them. “I did nothing to really deserve a promotion.”
“You led your warriors to victory,” she corrected him. “You stopped the Clans from doing to your people what was done to mine.”
“I know it’s hard to turn around without getting promoted in both our families,” Victor demurred. “Peter’s a Kommandant now, for god’s sake. But jumping me two ranks was a bit much.”
“Modesty is a virtue, but it can be taken to extremes.” Omi moved to the window and looked out at the snowy night. “Burnishing your reputation can make it a weapon for your parents to wield, and in time for your own. You and your brother have at least attached it to actual accomplishments, unlike the legends of Lyran generals granted medals for, as you put it, turning around.”
“I suppose you’re right.” He paused. “Excuse me, I should have asked after your brother.”
“Minoru bears a heavy burden,” she said, not looking back yet. “We have another brother, it seems. I hope that he will help to carry that burden rather than add to it. It remains to be seen.” Then Omi turned slightly. “Have you heard from your sister lately - pardon, the elder of them. I know Yvonne is studying and that takes much of her time.”
“Yeah, she wrote to me though. Said she’s looking at transferring to naval track, she’s not sure she has the reflexes for piloting.” Victor shook his head. “Katherine… I got a letter saying she was glad Peter and I made it back. She did think one of us should have left Coventry but…” he shrugged. It had been close enough to the Clan’s arrival that it would have looked like cowardice by one of them and they’d have fought over which of them was to leave… it would have been a mess.
Omi nodded slightly in understanding. “I saw her on New Avalon after she completed her tour of duty on Robinson.”
“I think she’ll do better there,” he said honestly. “Katherine served because it was expected of her, I don’t think she’s a natural soldier.”
“I agree that she may do better in the government,” the young Kurita agreed. “I am slightly concerned, however, that she has been sent to the Ministry of Administrative Services.”
“Oh?”
“It is the tradition of your people that the heir be assigned to take charge of that Ministry,” she reminded him. “She wll, of course, be a great support to you when that time comes. However, there are others who may see this as her being groomed to supersede you.”
Victor frowned. “Omi, you’re talking about my sister.”
She shook her head slightly. “Victor, what is real can matter little in politics, compared to perceptions. By appointing your sister to this position, your father risks that she will be a target for those who feel they can rise higher with her patronage - and tempted to try to advance Katherine to your place regardless of her wishes. The ambitious assume ambition in others.”
His stomach soured at the thought. “Thanks for the reminder. I know Mom wants me back here, to give me more grounding in politics - have you told her this?”
“To this extent, yes. As a guest in your mother’s court, I can advise her that I see a potential issue, but to do more…” She spread her hands. “I would transgress to tell any mother how to govern her children, much less a ruler who must make hard decisions of this nature.”
“And what would you suggest? In mother’s shoes?”
Omi raised one eyebrow but did not ask him if he was sure. “I would wait. And in a year or two, when Katherine has had opportunity to show her abilities, I would promote her to another department suiting her aptitudes. This respects her pride and reduces the chances of comparison between you when you eventually return to New Avalon.”
“That may be many years from now, Omi. I’ve military duty here and then… well, I am Duke of Sarna. I figured that eventually I’d leave the service to spend time in the Ministry of the Sarna March before going back to the capital. A way to learn the ropes without being quite so visible.”
“That would indeed be wise,” she agreed. “However, you may not have that time.”
Victor gave her a puzzled look. “I doubt mom and dad have been talking about their plans for me, no offense.”
“No, of course. That would be inappropriate,” Omi said without any resentment. “My concern is for your father’s health, Victor. He has done me the kindness of taking time to discuss my parents - his respect for them and his understanding of what it is to lose one’s parents before their time.” She paused. “I do not mean to suggest there is immediate concern, but your father’s health does not seem to be entirely robust.”
“Dad’s always said he was healthy as a horse!”
“I hope that you are right,” she agreed calmly. “And my grandfather, several years older than him, was still in excellent health until his own demise. But it may be that your father’s confidence in his own condition is misplaced. He tired more easily than I expected, and always pushed on, never once did I see him take the time to husband his energies. That is… concerning.”
Victor looked away. “I’ll ask mom.”
“Please.” Omi reached for the curtain. “I fear I may have damaged the trust between us, Victor. But your family have been friends to me and…”
“No.” He reached out and took her elbow briefly in reassurance. “No, I understand. I appreciate the concern. But you’re probably reading too much into this.”
-
Said it elsewhere but this 🧸🧸(bears repeating, if the emoji fails)…
[Morgan Freeman Voice]
"In fact, she wasn't reading too much into it…"
[/Morgwn Freeman Voice]
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One can only hope the cardiologists get to him first! ;D
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Of all the characters and the miriad of stories that have existed in the Clan Invasion timeframe, Omi Kurita and her relationship with Victor ihas always been the most bittersweet for me. Damn you Kat for destroying that love story
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Well, Hanse is living longer here than OTL, if he recognises his health issue and winds down his role in governing, then he could have Victor pulled from the frontlines and into more administrative roles, so both he and Melissa can help him learn the ropes of governance.
Without operation Guerro and sundering of FC, the AFFC will be in much better shape to go on the offensive before the Camlan peace expires. And good riddance on Marthe.
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And SPLAT! goes the Marthe!
(https://media.tenor.com/nwoJ4BS0XHYAAAAC/oh-no-anyway.gif)
I love how Primus Rong remains herself, i.e. incorrigibly dirty-minded and outrageous, even as she desperately plays whack-a-mole with multiple crises. Never change, you wonderful New Hedonist, you.
And as much as I hope Omi’s wrong about Hanse’s flagging health and Kat’s laying groundwork, there’s still that nagging feeling that Murphy has a fine selection of footwear hanging over our heads, just waiting for his cue(s)....
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So, I think it's reasonable for me to now share a map of the Inner Sphere (https://drive.google.com/file/d/1GfQcjg7-lh274IFDEKnqrm2OFAoy8j_Y/view?usp=sharing) in this era.
Colored version (https://drive.google.com/file/d/131VhvOqDRRCJ-G_hgLWEcl7Lkh7tzyxj/view?usp=sharing) courtesy of Autocharth
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So, I think it's reasonable for me to now share a map of the Inner Sphere (https://drive.google.com/file/d/1GfQcjg7-lh274IFDEKnqrm2OFAoy8j_Y/view?usp=sharing) in this era.
Wow, that really helps you appreciate how butchered the Combine ended up.
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Damn the Dragon got maimed. And damn the SV, NC, JF border gore.
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Now THAT's what an invasion looks like... ;)
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The clanner world distribution for the JF / SV / NC looks totally weird...!
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Typical clanner chaos! ;D
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Just finally got done reading this fanfic front to back in 3 weeks. Got an actual question for Drakensis. Do you have an actual end goal, plot, point, etc. I hwve seen way too many awesome stories made to all end dead in the water. This fanfic i hope sees a proper end. Keep it going!
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Drakensis does indeed know how to end a story... see his "Davion and Davion (Deceased)" for an example... ;)
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So now the Outworlds Alliance is officially affected by the Clan Invasion. Question is, will the other Periphery states get involved? While I highly doubt the Taurians will, the Magistracy of Canopus might be a bit more amiable. Then again, once the Taurians learn WHO the Clans are, maybe they will have a good reason to defend their part of space. But this is the Taurian Concordat I'm talking about; their favorite game to play is "Hippity Hoppity Get Off My Property" with nukes!
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Just finally got done reading this fanfic front to back in 3 weeks. Got an actual question for Drakensis. Do you have an actual end goal, plot, point, etc. I hwve seen way too many awesome stories made to all end dead in the water. This fanfic i hope sees a proper end. Keep it going!
The story is outlined to completion. There will be some refinement to the plan as I go.
We're currently getting towards the end of book 3. I'll take a break, adjust the outline for the next (and final) book and then I expect to write that next year.
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I was thinking next year is a long time to wait for more of this but then realised it's only just over a month away 😋
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I was thinking next year is a long time to wait for more of this but then realised it's only just over a month away 😋
To be fair, "just over a month" is a long time to wait for the end of this story.
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Just finally got done reading this fanfic front to back in 3 weeks. Got an actual question for Drakensis. Do you have an actual end goal, plot, point, etc. I hwve seen way too many awesome stories made to all end dead in the water. This fanfic i hope sees a proper end. Keep it going!
As mentioned, drakensis can tell a story.
Davion and Davion (Deceased)
https://bg.battletech.com/forums/index.php/topic,59371.0.html
Frederick Steiner and the Man Who Knew Too Little
https://bg.battletech.com/forums/index.php/topic,77514.0.html
State of the Union
https://bg.battletech.com/forums/index.php/topic,64884.0.html
Along Came a Spider
https://bg.battletech.com/forums/index.php/topic,50100.0.html
Riding the Dragon
https://bg.battletech.com/forums/index.php/topic,2360.0.html
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Opalescent Reflections
Stacking the Deck
Chapter 14
CJFS Turkina’s Pride, Wroclaw
Clan Jade Falcon Occupation Zone
2 January 3056
Aidan had expected heavy consequences when Elias Crichell called him aboard the Clan’s flagship. Coventry had been a disaster and while Vandervahn Chistu was dead and unable to defend himself from the blame, there was plenty to go around. Marthe was dead and Kristen Redmond was in long term medical care after almost killing herself trying to rescue the fallen saKhan, unaware that it had already been too late.
That left Aidan, Rard Hoyt and Diane Anu to potentially take the fall. Rard’s decision to order the retreat and Aidan’s endorsement left them more vulnerable than the commander of the Fifth Battle Cluster.
But as he entered the Khan’s office, Crichell rose from behind the desk and exchanged salutes without any sign of anger. There were certainly no aides or bodygyards to deal with any resistance, as might be expected if Aidan decided to challenge a punishment. “Star Colonel, I’m glad to see you.” The old warrior waved Aidan towards a seat - not facing the desk but to one side of it.
Aidan sat, not sure what to make of it. “How can I serve our Clan, my Khan?”
Crichell turned his seat slightly to face him. “I am about to confer with the Khans of the Nova Cats and Steel Vipers. As we have yet to elect a new saKhan, you are to attend as my aide.”
“If that is your command.” Why me, why not Kael Pershaw or someone with wider knowledge?
The Khan smiled knowingly. “You have interacted with both Clans over the last few years, you are known to them. And depending on your performance, I may have another assignment for you.”
So this was a test. “What do you want from me?”
Crichell shook his head. “Offer counsel if you feel you have it. Respond if questioned. Simple, quiaff?”
“Aff,” Aidan allowed. He would have to watch what he said, a misstep here could draw Crichell’s wrath, perhaps even endanger the Jade Falcons. He would not hesitate to face either of the other Clans if it came to that, but he had just seen how much numbers could matter. If the two Clans made common cause against the Jade Falcons that might be a serious problem.
Straightening his seat, the Khan checked his clock. “Here we go,” he declared, tapping a control on his desk.
Almost immediately, two further desks appeared in the room, projected from the headquarters of the other two Clans. The holographic images of the four Khans had such fidelity that Aidan could almost imagine that they were present, and they could evidently see each other as well.
Perigard Zalman gave Aidan a curious look, checking his rank tabs before he noted: “You have still not elected a new saKhan, Elias?”
“It is an important decision, Khan Zalman,” Aidan’s Khan replied more formally. “Our warriors are widely dispersed, and this meeting cannot wait, quiaff?”
“It has been more than two months,” the Steel Viper snorted.
“Assembling a quorum of your Clan should not be that difficult,” saKhan Christopher Ahmed criticized. “But it is the Falcon’s internal matter and not what we are here to discuss, quaiff?”
“Aff, we must decide what to do next,” Zalman agreed. “We may not have taken Coventry, but the AFFC must have stripped other worlds for the forces gathered there. There is another promising industrial world that can be taken, depriving the Federated Commonwealth of a new battlemech factory.”
Sevren Leroux leant back in his seat. “I believe you misjudge the situation, Zalman.”
“How so?”
“I assume you mean Loxley?” the old man enquired. “Our intelligence confirms that it remains well garrisoned. The units faced on Coventry were units awaiting deployment as reinforcement elsewhere, just as our original intelligence suggested. We have no evidence that the Federated Commonwealth have stripped worlds of protection to hold Coventry, other than their warship of course.”
“At the very least, those units are no longer available as reinforcements elsewhere along the frontlines! And now that we know they have a battlecruiser, we can assemble a naval star to handle it.”
“Perhaps, but if you feel that Loxley is attainable, you may do so alone,” Lucian Carns declared. “We have no intention of pressing further into the Federated Commonwealth at this time, and our warships will be needed to cover our supply lines against that battlecruiser.”
Zalman snorted. “Very well then. Crichell, your Gyrfalcon Galaxy is ready for new operations? Between us we can…” He trailed off as the Jade Falcon Khan shook his head.
“We have received a message via ComStar,” Crichell informed him mildly. “I know the same is true of Clan Nova Cat and I would be surprised if you have not.”
“The Archon’s suggestion of a ceasefire?” enquired Ahmed, voice neutral. “A sign of weakness on her part.”
“Not entirely,” Aidan corrected.
All eyes turned to him, the lowly Star Colonel presuming to speak unbidden to the Khans. “Explain,” Crichell ordered.
“The Archon may not be a warrior herself, but she has experience of leading her nation in wars. She must be aware that we would not accept if she offered that from a position of weakness. Ceasefires require that neither side benefits from continuing the fighting. She must have some reason to believe it is in our interests to give her time to recover.”
Leroux turned to Crichell and raised an eyebrow.
“Star Colonel Pryde is not party to our previous conversation,” Crichell confirmed.
“Indeed. Thank you, Star Colonel. That was insightful.”
From another Clan that might have sounded sarcastic, but not from a Nova Cat. Aidan didn’t place much faith in their visions but he knew that they did and this had the tone of a Nova Cat who had just seen something slot together with his expectations in an interesting way. A shiver went down his spines.
“You have met without me?” hissed Zalman accusingly. “Behind my back?”
“Yes,” agreed the Nova Cat khan. “Regarding your Clan’s conduct on Coventry.”
“What do you have to say about our conduct there?!”
Aidan tried not to be noticed as the four Khans shot remarks back and forth, words that he thought might have led to a trial of grievance if they had actually been in the same room. Crichell, the fifth Khan, also said nothing. He simply sat back and waited as the storm of bitter words lashed back and forth.
Finally, when the two saKhans had fallen silent and their seniors were pausing for breath, the Jade Falcon khan took the opportunity to steer the conversation: “I have agreed to negotiate with the Federated Commonwealth.”
“What?!” Zalman tried to roar, but he had not yet recovered from his previous tirade and the words lacked the strength they might have earlier.
“We will give up nothing we have taken,” continued Crichell. “But for now I am prepared to accept a new truce line, one that renounces further advances for a year or two. Perhaps until the Camlann truce expires.”
Ahmed leant forwards. “So the Archon is right. You have reason not to press harder.”
“We do,” he agreed and looked over towards the Nova Cats.
Sevren Leroux nodded in agreement. “That is our own position. Presented jointly, I believe that we will receive agreement from the Archon.”
Zalman’s fist hit the table in front of him. “You break the unity!”
Aidan winced. That was not wise to say in jest, much less in anger.
“Our Clans move in unison,” Carns replied, voice flat with anger. “Yours is the one that does not.”
Crichell raised his hand. “Patience, Lucien. That Clan Steel Viper has not yet accepted the proposal does not mean that they will not. They have time to consider the matter. And if they do not…” His voice grew steely. “Then I will admire their courage to fight alone where three Clans together have failed.”
Ahmed gave his khan a warning look and then turned to Crichell. “You believe we cannot make further gains at this time?”
“Our losses are not unsupportable,” he replied evenly. “Yet. Another failed assault, another wave of counter attack - or worse, both? That might be another matter. We have done very well to push this far. Unlike Clan Diamond Shark we are not fighting a crippled and dying state. Better to pause and consolidate than lose all our gains to overconfidence.”
“We will consider this matter,” the Steel Viper saKhan decided. “But this is not the conversation we anticipated. Perhaps we should reschedule once we have decided whether to accept the Archon’s offer.”
Leroux nodded sagely. “Of course. Khan Crichell?”
“Naturally. We can confer further on what terms to offer once we know whether three Clans or two are negotiating. A preliminary agreement to accept mediation commits us to nothing bar meeting representatives of the Archon. On Arcturus, perhaps?”
That was a very long way from the Steel Viper occupied worlds, Aidan thought.
“Too early to decide that,” the Nova Cat observed. “We will inform ComStar that we are interested in the offer. They may wish to meet on Coventry.”
Zalman hissed, though he sounded like no snake Aidan knew, and his image vanished from the room. A moment later Christopher Ahmed followed his Khan.
The Nova Cats exchanged a look, then they both dipped their heads politely to Crichell and then Aidan before they vanished in turn.
The old Khan sank back into his chair and turned to Aidan. “Thoughts?” he enquired mildly, but his eyes were sharp.
“Given Coventry, I would have expected the Nova Cats to be vengeful and the Steel Vipers cautious,” Aidan admitted.
“Perigard Zalman fears that Coventry will be another Camlann, in the sense that his predecessor was removed from her office after that defeat.” Crichell shook his head in amusement. “He forgets that she had faced previous embarrassments before that. In truth, Christopher Ahmed might make the better Khan of the pair but unless he steps up the Steel Vipers will be of little use in the near future. Oh well.” He gestured dismissively.
“And the Nova Cats?” asked Aidan boldly.
“There are times when I suspect them of claiming a vision simply for the sake of being contrary and unpredictable. I had a pet cat once, when I was a child,” the Khan confided. “Wilful beast.”
“What happened to it?”
“She ran away when my Falconer ordered me to get rid of her.” He smiled thinly. “No fool, that cat. And Leroux and Carns are not fools either. The presence of a warship is only one sign among many that the Federated Commonwealth has deeper resources than Zalman cares to admit. We have done all we can for now, a truce will give us a chance to prepare for the next phase of the war.”
Aidan thought back to Marthe’s death. “They have new battlemech designs, ones we have not seen before. I discussed some with Diane Anu and she told me that their performance was inconsistent with Star League technology, in some ways different even from our own.”
“I am privy to the data you exchanged,” Crichell told him blandly. “Kael Pershaw’s analysts believe that the ‘mechs involved are using an improved myomer developed decades ago by the Federated Commonwealth. It was abandoned when it was found that a simple chemical agent would cause it to combust. Possibly they employed it on Coventry, correctly guessing that we would not have such chemical warheads on hand. That will be corrected.”
“Some would say chemical weapons are hardly honorable, my Khan,” Aidan offered respectfully.
“Would you say that, Star Colonel?”
“Clubbing warriors to death is not precisely zellbrigen either.”
Crichell beamed. “My thoughts exactly. If they do not use such dishonorable tactics then we will have no need to use the counter-agent. Honor to the honorable, but we must meet the shameless on their own ground. Now, do you have any guesses why I called you in as my aide rather than the loremaster or perhaps Kael Pershaw?”
Aidan frowned. “Perhaps I am being considered to negotiate on our behalf?”
“In a sense. I did want to see how you handled yourself when it came to diplomacy,” the Khan admitted.
“I hardly said anything.”
“Silence can be its own eloquence,” Crichell informed him. “And Leroux approves of you, which could be useful. Kael Pershaw thinks highly of you, even if it is like dragging teeth out of him to secure that admission. Vandervahn Chistu also found you valuable. More importantly, both Samantha Clees and Angeline Mattlov admit that your performance with the Gyrfalcon Guards has been excellent. Not every officer can take a disgraced unit and rebuild it to its former glory. Does that suggest what I have in mind for you?”
It did not. Angeline Mattlov had been the Jade Falcon's youngest galaxy commander in her day but was now the oldest, while her rival Samantha Clees had her own eye on the vacant throne. But Aidan could only offer his vote on the matter, his reputation was too… His eyes widened.
Crichell smiled in understanding. “Yes, you have had an irregular career path. But we are not in a situation where our traditions can survive unchallenged. I need a saKhan who respects those traditions without being blinkered by them, ideally someone who is beholden to no faction.”
“I could not possibly command enough votes!” Aidan exclaimed in disbelief.
The khan gestured dismissively. “Kael Pershaw can bring many of Vandervahn’s supporters to you, they will be glad for a patron now that he is gone. Adding my own support will give you credibility.” He smiled thinly. “Both the current contenders are wary of a close vote that might face a Trial of Refusal, but the delay has bred bad blood between them. Each will settle for a compromise candidate: yourself.”
“Someone they expect to displace in the future,” Aidan realized.
“I can secure your election,” Crichell agreed. “Keeping the post is up to you. Remember, there is likely to be a vote on renouncing the Camlann truce soon. If that is accepted then there will need to be a new ilKhan. It could be that the two of them will be fighting over my office soon.”
“Are we ready if the truce ends?” he enquired. “Our losses may not be unsupportable, but they will take time to replace and with the Federated Commonwealth’s greater strength even that may not be enough to break through to Terra.”
The older man snorted. “Save the diplomacy for the Lyrans, Aidan. Our current strength is definitely not equal to that challenge. That is why we have been making preparations for years. Did you think your new Omnimechs came out of nowhere? The research for them began almost twenty years ago and we built the factories with increased production in mind. Shipments are already on the way, enough omnimechs to more than replace our losses, as well as aerospace fighters and elemental armor. Within two years we will have a touman to rival the Diamond Sharks.”
And the warriors to man them? Aidan thought. Where do they come from…? Wait, almost twenty years ago? “You begin creating sufficient sibkos at the same time?” he asked, “Around 3038, quiaff?”
That got a chuckle from the khan. “Oh, very good. Yes, Yvonne Hazen was planning it even before I became her saKhan but it took a long time to set things up so that we could arrange it without the other Clans knowing. The Dragoon Compromise haunted Yvonne - it failed both sides of the Great Debate.”
“I can see how it prevented us from invading sooner,” Aidan admitted. “But how did it fail the Wardens?”
“It never silenced us,” Crichell answered. “And now here we are.”
“I see.” He almost asked what Crichell would have done if there was no invasion by 3058, but he wasn’t sure he’d get an honest answer. Most probably one of the smaller warden-leaning Clans would have been crushed - a trial of absorption, whether it was called that or not. Two less warden votes in the Grand Council and a show of strength that would have swayed others to vote for an Invasion rather than see that strength directed at them.
Perhaps more than one Clan, were the Jade Falcons the only clan to do this?
“We will need to expand freeborn training,” Aidan said instead. “We can salvage ‘mechs but a killed warrior is gone for good. We cannot wait twenty years to adjust the number of sibkos created in the iron wombs.”
Crichell shook his head, but it was not in denial. “We never stopped creating new sibkos but the losses we have taken since Operation Revival began have been considerable… and then there is the demand for garrisons. Very well, you have my support. But it is up to you to organize this, as saKhan, quaiff?”
“Aff. I accept your offer,” Aidan agreed. “I will contact Perhaw… and then Clees and Mattlov.” If he was going to do this, he would do so as his own man, not Crichell’s creature. The Khan’s talk of becoming ilKhan was not unreasonable, if the truce was broken. Ulric Kerensky would not be interested, Leo Showers was still tainted by Camlann, which made the choice between Barbara Sennet and Elias Crichell - and the Diamond Shark did not seem to be as skilled a politician.
That was the problem. Crichell was angling for a political triumph, but that would then require him to deliver a military victory. Easier said than done.
“I should plan on any break in the truce taking place two or three years from now, quiaff?” he asked. That fit the timing of the influx of fresh warriors.
“Indeed. That should be long enough for Clan Zeerga to find their feet amongst the Grand Council,” his khan confirmed. “Kerensky gave us two more Crusader votes on a platter. I cannot imagine what he was thinking but I would be a fool to refuse them. Twelve votes from the other Clans in the Inner Sphere and at least eight more of the Khans are in our camp. We have a majority already, but we need enough to defeat a Trial of Refusal.”
I wonder what the Lyran’s timetable is. Aidan decided that was a question to discuss with the Galaxy Commanders. And Kael Pershaw. If anyone knew that, it would be that canny old Falcon.
Yamashiro, New Samarkand
Diamond Shark Dominion
17 February 3056
“You have been talking about how long it will take to transform the Dominion’s economy to use the work credit and now you want to use another currency instead?” asked Bikendi Vewas.
A different merchant factor was facing the Clan Council this time. Ace wondered if the previous representative had been demoted or if the senior merchants were rotating the job to share the load. Or as a message, perhaps?
“This is part of that process,” the woman responded to the saKhan’s query. “We cannot handle work credits or the Kerensky coins that represent them in the same way as an Inner Sphere currency, but we cannot sever the influence of House Kurita over the economy so long as the people of these worlds use the yen - nor can we use the C-bill or other outside currencies.”
Barbara Sennet drummed her fingers on the arm of the chair she sat on. This time Ace was the most senior warrior on New Samarkand, the khan having returned to Pesht with Alpha Galaxy. “So this is an interim step, quiaff?”
The merchant bowed. “Aff, my Khan. The new currency, which we propose to name the Damon in honor of the Khan of that name, can eventually be replaced by work credits. In the meantime, it will mean that almost every financial transaction taking place within the Dominion will be subject to the influence of our Clan.”
“Almost?” queried Evangeline Clarke. “Why not all?”
“Firstly, because we will continue to use the work credit where we can, and secondly because of the need to interact with ComStar at this time,” the woman answered smoothly. “I understand that the latter may eventually be phased out but Khen Sennet’s conquests mean that even more HPGs will be required before the Dominion can operate without ComStar’s HPGs.”
Vewas shook his head. “So long as this currency makes no appearance in the homeworlds, it should cause no problems here. I would have thought that two changes in currency would add to the disruption of the Inner Sphere worlds though.”
The merchant reached out of view of her holocamera and brought back a small coin that she held up. “These Damons will be minted in the same way as a Kerensky, so that the physical infrastructure to use them will be the same needed for an eventual replacement of them. In theory, once Damons are the default coin of the Dominion, we can re-set the chip within them to reflect that they are now representing work credits, reducing the re-minting to a minimum.”
“Wherever we go financially, removing yen from circulation is a step in the right direction,” Ace pointed out. “Everytime one is used, it reminds people that they were once ruled by House Kurita.”
Barbara Sennet nodded in agreement. “A sound point. This matter appears to me to fall within the Merchant Council’s purview, unless anyone feels that it is out of line with the policies agreed in the past?”
No one spoke up - a number of bloodhouse leaders had been pointedly asked to remind their juniors that running Clan Council meetings via HPG currently required hefty payments to ComStar and keeping them on point was important.
“Moving to the next point,” the khan declared, “A large number of sibkos will be receiving their trials of position over the next six months. This should significantly ease our garrison situation. Please be aware that shipping them to their postings will take time. If anyone wishes to petition for an alternative posting, it would be helpful if we know about it before we finalize assignments for new warriors.”
Ace noted that she didn’t mention that most of the sibkos were made up of freeborn warriors born in the inner sphere, not the products of the Clan’s iron wombs and civilian creches. “Will there be demand for warriors to carry out the trials of position?”
“We have sufficient volunteers from garrison units, who will be meeting their own annual requirements in the process,” Sennet told him. “We do expect there to be openings for Star Captains in the garrison forces, so I would appreciate all officers making sure that Star Commanders looking for promotion are advised of the opportunity.”
“It is hardly an opportunity,” came a mutter from Annika Enders, but she was quiet enough that Ace only heard her because they were in the same room.
She was also partly drowned out by Kevin Nagasawa, Alpha Galaxy’s newest Star Colonel. “May I raise a matter, Khan Sennet?”
Ace saw that the khan was unsurprised - likely this was something she’d arranged earlier. “We have completed the agenda for this meeting. I open the floor to any other concerns, but anything requiring debate may need to be scheduled for the next council session. Star Colonel Nagasawa, you have the floor.”
The pilot drew himself up. “I know there have been rumors that attempts to introduce the diamond shark into the waters of worlds here in the Dominion have failed, I have even heard the gullible state that it is an omen. I would have an end to this: it is more than clear that it will take years for us to bring the Dominion in line with our Clan’s ways. It may take as long for our totem to thrive here.”
“Perhaps we should readopt the Sea Fox. They seem to be doing just fine,” someone said as the Star Colonel paused for breath.
Heads snapped around, Ace’s among them and he saw that it was one of his own officers that had spoken up. Thoman Clarke, a Star Captain in the Twenty-Seventh Cruiser Cluster, was not someone who could be easily brushed off. He could claim descent from Damon Clarke, the Khan who had called for the original change of totem.
“Do not joke about such matters,” Vewas snapped, leaning forwards.
“I am not joking,” the elemental said firmly, apparently undaunted by having all the eyes of the Clan Council upon him. “Our Clan has changed before and perhaps it is time that we change again.”
“It is as the Diamond Sharks that we won our place in the invasion and as the Diamond Sharks that we won this Dominion,” Keven Nagasawa argued.
“I do not deny it,” Clarke riposted. “The diamond shark is an unrivaled predator in its proper waters, but now we face the challenge of ruling and defending a vast empire. The Sea Fox was first chosen as our totem by the Founder to remind us to honor our defeated foes - perhaps an apt reminder of our current challenges. I am not superstitious, but nor will I close my mind to an idea simply because it is tied to what others call an omen.”
Shouting broke out from the more hot headed members of the Clan Council but as Ace looked around he saw that not all the voices were being raised against Clarke. No one living remembered the days that the Clan had been named Sea Fox, it was eighty years since the change had been made. But the decision still loomed large over the Clan.
“We cannot decide this matter here or today,” Barbara Sennet called, manipulating her controls to drown out the voices of clothes. “It is a matter that requires great thought, and by Damon Clarke’s precedent it would be a decision for the entire Clan, not merely one council or even one caste.”
Evangeline Clarke stood and Sennet could not easily prevent a Galaxy Commander from speaking. “Would that involve the people on the worlds we have conquered as well? Do you want them to have a say, quineg?”
“It must.”
Those two words from Ace drew all eyes to him. He gave them all a rueful smile. “If they are not treated as part of our Clan then what are we doing here?”
“Enough,” the Khan said sharply. “Enough, I say. This will require thought before it can sensibly be debated, much less voted upon.”
It was only pushing the matter off, but most of the bloodnamed were still shocked that it had even been raised in the first place. There was no open dissent as Semi Kalasa went through the final rigmarole of ending the meeting.
A private message ordered Ace not to cut his channel and as warrior after warrior dropped out of the call, he rose to his feet. “Clear the hall,” he ordered firmly. “If anyone wishes to speak to me about matters of this council session, you may wait outside.”
There weren’t many bloodnamed on New Samarkand right now and not all were in Yamashiro, so all were gone by the time Ace was left alone with the images of Barbara Sennet, Bikendi Vewas and Semi Kalasa. The Loremaster glared at him. “Did you put Thoman up to that idea?”
“Neg,” he denied. “I had no idea he was even paying attention to the rumors about the sea foxes.”
“I believe him,” Barbara interrupted before Kalasa could say more. “We do not need division in our ranks… more division, at least.”
“At least, your remark was ill-advsed,” warned the saKhan. “What were you thinking, Enders?”
“I spoke on instinct,” Ace admitted. “But I stand by the words. We cannot afford an undercaste of the disenfranchised. It would be ready recruitment for rebellions and of aid for the Combine to strike back at us - which they will.”
The khan sighed. “I still wish you had not said it like that. But the words cannot be unsaid now. Next time your instincts say to speak, try to think first. It could have been said privately.”
“Not after the Blood Angel said that openly,” he disagreed politely.
For a moment they stared at each other and it was Sennet who looked away first. “Perhaps you are right. You have been before.” And then she was gone, leaving him to wonder which particular moment she had been thinking of.
Vewas also vanished but Semi Kalasa remained. The loremaster examined Ace searchingly. “You go for the throat of the matter,” she said at last, “It makes you a good Diamond Shark.”
“To be honest, I doubt the people of these worlds will care much for the name of our Clan. Changing it might be a bad idea but…”
“But denying them a vote when our own… our homeworld castes vote, that they would care about,” she agreed. “I had not thought you a student of Karen Nagasawa’s works.”
Ace smiled slightly, “Hidden depths.” He’d done the bare minimum reading of the Sea Fox’s first works to get through the testing in the sibko, and never gone back to them. Perhaps he should… if he ever had the time!
“Indeed.” Kalasa dipped her head slightly and cut her channel.
Sitting down, Ace made sure his own cameras and microphones were off before sighing heavily and raking his hands through his hair. Had Minoru Kurita felt so worried when he sat on this dais? Probably. Better the problems of a winner than those of a loser.
He shook his head at the thought. This was a problem that was not going to go away. He could throttle Thoman Clarke… figuratively, at least. Trampling the elemental from the relative safety of his Huntsman’s cockpit would be better.
After making sure he was presentable, Ace left the dais and opened the door. To his surprise, he found Val and Annika glaring at each other from either side of the door way. Behind them, Michel was watching with a degree of amusement.
“Just the three of you?” Ace asked. “Is this a shared matter or one at a time?”
“I speak for myself,” Annika snapped. “Khan Sennet said that transfers could be requested?”
“I can put your name forwards,” he agreed, leaning against the doorframe. “It is up to the commander of wherever you want to go if it is accepted or not. Although a request of a garrison post is -”
“Do not mock me!” she cut him off. “I have already spoken to Galaxy Commander Seth Margyar. He offered me a place in his command cluster.”
“In Delta, quiaff?” Ace asked. Margyar had done well with Omega Galaxy, well enough to be tapped to command the frontline galaxy that was mostly staffed with former-Burrocks.
“Aff.”
“Granted. I will have the paperwork drawn up.”
Annika looked torn between relief and anger. She settled on turning on her heel and stalking away.
Ace shook his head. He hadn’t been keeping her around for his own amusement. If Margyar wanted her then it was no longer his concern. There would surely be someone eager to take over her position. Then he looked at Val. “And you?”
She hesitated and then folded her arms. “I have not spoken to any commander, but I request assignment to the homeworlds.”
“Are you sure?” Ace asked in surprise.
“I am sure. Perhaps… perhaps the Clan does need to change, but not by taking on ways of the Combine. I wish to return home.”
He closed his eyes for a moment. “I will put your name forwards. There will be vacancies in other Galaxies as officers are needed for garrison posts. Whether you are chosen is outside my hands.”
Val nodded. “Thank you.” She saluted Ace formally and then she also turned and left.
“Is this,” Michel enquired, “A bad time for me to also request transport to Strana Mechty?”
“Apparently everyone else wants it!”
The mechwarrior chuckled awkwardly. “Well, I will be back. Probably. I am not looking for a new post, but there has been a death in the ranks of bloodhouse Bukannon and I wish to compete for the bloodright.”
“Ah, I see. Have you been nominated?”
Michel shook his head. “No, but I have the right to try the grand melee, the way you did.”
“That you do…” Ace thought back to his own experience. “You will want to take your ‘mech? Or to requisition one from our enclave on Strana Mechty?”
“I would prefer my own - there is no guarantee of a Warhawk being available to be configured for me.”
“And you will want a technician and an allocation of supplies for repairs.” He remembered having to get along without a medium laser because the Burrocks would not provide one for him. “Very well, I will request transportation for you. If there is no room for a battlemech to be carried, I will ask that a Warhawk be set aside for you to use. I cannot promise that it will be done, there is no knowing what the situation will be by the time that you arrive.”
This was going to be a challenge going forwards, Ace thought. How long could the Clan send warriors across hundreds of light years for each trial of bloodright? But at the same time, how could warriors be denied the chance at a bloodname?
-
Ralpz Mountains, Rubigen
Clan Smoke Jaguar Occupation Zone
28 March 3056
The sky beneath her, the frozen world above -
Tyra was flying inverted, eyes flickering ahead of her to watch the terrain. She was flying low enough that the instructors who had taught her nap-of-the-earth maneuvering would have reprimanded her severely, but she had to stay in the valleys as long as possible.
Taking out Pilot Kellog had been the easy part. He was an arrogant ass who hadn’t realized she wasn’t bringing him his helmet until she swung it against his head as hard as she could. The little man was much more used to dishing abuse out on the technicians than in receiving it. A second blow to the head had put him on the floor and Tyra had jammed him into his own locker, an improvised gag keeping him from calling for help.
Killing him had been a temptation, but that might have been a kindness. The other Smoke Jaguars would likely take his defeat for weakness and haze him mercilessly for the rest of his life. Besides, she’d needed to focus on the harder part of the plan: hijacking the aerospace fighter waiting for Kellog and getting into the air.
Anyone looking closely at the flightsuited figure would have known it wasn’t really a Clan pilot - they were all too short for Tyra. But no one really dared to check and thus the fact her boots barely reached her trouser cuffs, not to mention the gap between sleeve and glove hadn’t been called out as she entered the hangar.
For all their sophistication in other areas of technology, the security on the aerospace fighter had been behind the times. Tyra thought it might have kept the average technician or pilot out, but not someone who had taken Kungsarme Survival, Evasion, Resistance and Escape courses. She had the voice-ID unsecured before the technicians removed the wheel chocks and despite the pause as she raced through the preflights that the real Kellog would have been doing in that time, no one had raised an alarm until she started to taxi out and onto the runway without consulting the flight control tower.
Emptying the Xerxes’ magazines into the point of aerospace fighters standing at five minutes readiness had been extremely satisfying and then she had taken off before ‘mechs and elementals could reach her.
And that left her flying through the glacial mountains of Rubigen, hoping to avoid the notice of the Smoke Jaguar aerospace fighters that she knew were already in the air and on patrol.
Tyra’s instruments told her that she was almost halfway to her destination and she was pushing the heavy fighter’s engines to their limit. That, unfortunately, also meant that the fusion engines were putting out a lot of heat that would be easy to spot if anyone came in range with thermal sensors.
Reaching the uppermost heights of the valley she was in, Tyra rolled the Xerxes and pulled up to skim up over the ridge separating this valley from the next.
Right at the apex of the climb, her sensors chirped and the bottom fell out from her stomach. Yanking back on the throttle, she dropped the bat-winged fighter into a clumsy glide, hoping that whoever she’d picked up had missed her own fighter in the ground clutter.
The valley she had entered was a sea of ice, dotted with rocks that ‘floated’ on top of the glacier moving steadily down towards the coasts. That was where she was headed, and the sight confirmed she was closing in on safety, the surface of the ice only sloped very slightly… and the Xerxes was losing altitude faster than the ice, sensors warned her that the distance between Tyra and a rough landing was shrinking fast!
Up ahead the valley twisted and she wondered if she might be able to make it past the turn, getting that bit of extra cover before turning the thrusters on again. It didn’t look good.
Ditch here? Tyra wondered. She might be able to make it down to the coast on foot…
No, the Smoke Jaguars still claimed the territory she was flying over and they would have some idea she’d come this way, even if they’d missed her exact route. The area would be full of patrols.
As the Xerxes sank further, Tyra reignited the engines. They stuttered for a moment before roaring to life, melting ice that was closer to them than the distance between the fighter’s wing-tips, and suddenly she was hurtling forwards with increasing speed, banking sharply around the turn in the valley.
More pings made it clear that she’d been picked up, two hostiles behind her and closing in from above.
Tyra opened the throttle wide and brought up her active sensors. There was no use hiding now.
Two Sulla Primes. She’d guessed as much. Right around the bottom of the medium bracket, they had far more speed than she did - and with her autocannon ammunition used up, either of them outgunned her.
There was no request for her to surrender. The pilots either knew she had no reason to give up now… or they were hungry for a kill, whatever tiny shreds of glory they might claim from this.
Tucking in against the side of the valley, Tyra flew as low as she could, the passage of her fighter kicking up a contrail of ice particles behind her. Enough to moderate the effectiveness of the Sulla’s lasers.
A particle beam from behind almost struck home, showing that the enemy had more faith in the heavier weapons to hit home. She had just enough warning to dance aside, but that left her exposed to a shot from the other fighter if it was flying wingman properly…
No shots hit home and she glanced back just in time to catch sight of the two Sullas jostling for the lead position before they were lost to view again in her own contrail.
Teamwork would have killed me, she realised. Thank god for their egoes.
Another PPC, then a second shot. Tyra wove wildly, screaming through another twist in the valley. She wasn’t going to make it to the coast at this rate… but she might make it close enough.
The Xerxes shook under the impact of a particle beam and Tyra screamed in shock, almost losing control of the fighter. She managed to stabilize it just in time to see a narrow needle of rock rising up ahead of her.
A narrow slab of stone must have been caught in the glacier years ago and was now pinned upright in an ice crevice, almost like a shark’s fin or an antenna.
Tyra triggered her lasers and prayed it would be enough. The twin bolts of coherent light smashed into the pillar and for a moment she thought it would hold. Then she saw the stone was severed halfway up, the top half toppling slightly to her right,
Throwing the Xerxes up on its left wing, Tyra groped for the ejection handle in case she needed.
Surely the vibration of the fighter wasn’t her literally scraping the stone with the ventral surface of the Xerxes! That would have sent it into a tumble that would certainly be fatal at this height.
The systems display showed her armor damage along the aerospace fighter’s belly - likely smaller debris had hit her. More concerning, the wing that had taken the hit from the PPC was in a much worse state. She had been lucky not to lose the control surfaces in the wing. Another hit would leave her little more control than a rocket-sled.
If she could have opened the throttle any wider, Tyra would have done so, but there was nothing more she could do. The only relief was that she didn’t have to spare fuel for a flight back, unlike the Sullas that had already been partway through their patrol. Of course, they could cruise just about as fast as the Xerxes could manage with its thrusters at maximum output…
Looking back, she saw only one of the Smoke Jaguars still on her tail. Had the other crashed? Broken off?
No and no.
Tyra dodged around another shot from the remaining pursuer, swivelling her head around wildly as she tried to find the other fighter… “There!”
Slamming the rudder hard, she threw the Xerxes into a wild S-turn that flung her from one side of the widening valley to the other. Coming down out of the sun, the Sulla’s lasers and PPCs smashed down, the latter throwing up a explosion of broken ice where it hit, the lasers slashing a shallower trough as the pilot twisted to try to track the brief beams after her.
They just barely clipped her before the pulse ended, but that still left the Sulla with height and an energy advantage.
Up ahead, Tyra could see trees beginning to cling to the sides of the valley.
And then: “Smoke Jaguar aircraft, you are approaching ComStar airspace,” a voice drawled. “Break off or you will be in breach of our agreement with your Khan.”
Putting the nose down, she traded what little reserve of height she had left for a fraction more speed. She had to be close.
“We are in our own airspace,” one of the Smoke Jaguars replied, even as he or his companion fired again. It was the one behind her and one of his lasers made it through the thinning cloud of ice behind Tyra, clipping the engine.
It wasn’t fatal, but she saw the power values of the fusion thruster flicker and then drop sharply.
That saved her as the Sulla above fired a more accurate salvo only for it to overshoot the slowing Xerxes.
“For about thirty more seconds,” the woman warned. “Be aware that we have our own fighters in the air. You cross the line and we will drop you.”
Thirty more seconds. Just thirty more!
The Sulla above her would need time to wheel around, Tyra guessed. That left the one behind her.
Checking her rear camera, she saw it zooming closer, taking the time to try and make its last chance count. Senors screamed to warn that she was locked up and Tyra took her hand off the throttle to flip the cover off a button no one wanted to press by accident.
She slapped the button an instant before the Sulla fired, dumping a ton of liquified hydrogen from her fuel tanks. The fuel vaporized almost instantly, cold as it was Rubigen was far above hydrogen’s boiling point.
And the Sulla’s shots went right into the cloud of hydrogen.
Slow as the Xerxes was, it was at least flying away from the explosion. The Sulla was heading right into it.
The detonation slapped the heavier fighter out of the air. All Tyra could do was aim it at a relatively open and flat stretch of ice, raise the nose a fraction and put all power to the ventral landing thrusters to try to cushion the crash.
The Xerxes smashed into the ice and Tyra wasn’t sure what hurt more, being thrown against her harness by the sudden slow to a halt, or the hammer that hit the base of her spine. Her vision went black and red, the air driven from her lungs and leaving her gasping.
There was another thump and smash, this time from outside her cockpit, behind and to the left. Then a second, ahead… and a third fainter crash that had considerable finality.
When her vision cleared, Tyra was able to look out through the cracked canopy and saw the mangled, burning wreck of a Sulla far ahead, a trail of debris marking where the fighter’s once long and graceful fuselage had bounced off the thick ice from its original impact to its final resting place.
Reminded by the flames that her own fuel tanks weren’t exhausted, Tyra wrestled with the harness and managed to unclip herself from the seat, breaking away the remaining umbilicals. It seemed like a herculean effort to stand and push at the canopy. When it failed to slide open she hit the (covered for safety) switches along the sides and firecracker charges broke away the glass so she could lever it off and scramble out.
The air outside was smokey and wet at the same time, tasting unpleasant as the pilot breathed it in and worse as she exhaled. Turning around to orient herself, she pointed herself downslope and started to stagger that way.
Maybe she was across the line marking the border of the ComStar enclave or maybe she wasn’t. Every meter might be the one that mattered.
She was puffing and panting when she heard the beating of helicopter rotors. Pushing back the visor of her helmet, Tyra squinted up, trying to tell if it was painted the white of the ComGuards or the mottled grey of the Smoke Jaguars, She recognised the outline as that of an SLDF Ripper, but that was no help as both ComStar and the Clans used the design.
Only when it turned around could she see the haloed star of ComStar on the side, rather than a leaping Jaguar.
Tyra stopped and waved her hands to draw the crew’s attention. She saw the side door slide open and then the crew unlimbered a machinegun, swinging it out to cover her.
It would be ironic to die now, she thought. Unstrapping her borrowed helmet, Tyra threw it off and then clasped both hands on top of her head in a show of submission.
The Ripper descended to the ice, the machinegun never quite aimed at her but the gunner clearly having his or her eye on her. Two men in infantry gear sat down on the edge of the doorway and then jumped down from the hovering helicopter.
Unlimbering their rifles, the pair moved over, splitting up to ensure that neither blocked the other’s line of sight of her.
“You crossed the line, Jag,” the one slightly closer warned. “Don’t give us any trouble or your Clan could face another interdict.”
Tyra slowly moved her right hand from the top of her head and then saluted. “Kapten Tyra Miraborg, Flying Drakons,” she offered. “I escaped.”
“The hell?” muttered the second soldier.
“I didn’t think Jags used bondsman as pilots,” the leader challenged, moving his laser to aim directly at Tyra. “How do we know who you are?”
“You don’t, but the Kungsarme should have their record of me.” She’d hoped for a warmer welcome. “Listen… I don’t know if you have this, but I have what might be important intelligence. It has to make it to someone.”
The leader frowned. “You armed?”
“No.”
He jerked his gun. “On your knees. Singh, search her. I’ll talk to the Section Leader.” He lowered his gun. “I don’t get paid enough for this,” he muttered to himself.
Tyra couldn’t help but scowl angrily as she knelt. Her entire nation had vanished and she had spent years as a bondsman, and this idiot was bitching about having to do his own job. But she kept her mouth shut. This mattered too much to fail now.
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As I said elesewhere, I think that the introduction of a new currency is no guarentee to stop the circulation of the old one, in covert black-market dealings. Hell, the Star League Dollar might still be the currnecy of choice on some periphery worlds, they never wear out after all.
I also wonder if the failure to establish the diamond shark is more to do with it being a stupid hyperpredator who keeps eating the fugu introduced by the draconis combine and poisoning itself on the tetrodotoxins carried by pufferfish.
Tyra's escape rather puts the clock on the Clans' plans. They need to move now, before the element of surprise is lost. Though, I doubt any major plan to pull off a Task Force Serpent will happen here.
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Good move, Kaptain!
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Work credits make zero sense when you can buy specie, or any other inherently valuable substance/durable item with them... ::)
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Work credits make zero sense when you can buy specie, or any other inherently valuable substance/durable item with them... ::)
Specie is not inherently valuable, I would rather go on the Rice Standard than the Gold Standard. A more serious threat to work credits is workers ignoring them and instituting a UBI based on the grocery workers just giving you food, and the housing managers just letting you have an apartment. Actual communal action/unions are the greatest threat to clan script-capitalism.
Though, aren't Kerenskies pressed gold? Why bother with buying things with them for durable currency if that's your thing when they are already gold coins?
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The theory of work credits is that they expire (on a relatively short-term basis). That's what makes them suspect.
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Anybody writing about currency needs to read about von Mises' Theory of Money and Credit. A fun supplementary by Mencius Moldbug is also useful.
https://www.unqualified-reservations.org/2008/01/how-to-actually-restore-gold-standard/
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I find it rather surprising that, so soon after declaring that it would be too disruptive to switch the Combine's economy away from the yen right away, they're talking about how good an idea it would be to... switch the Combine's economy away from the yen right away.
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The Wobbly Guy: That looks like an interesting article, but I'll have to read it later... :)
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The long and short of it is that again, I think there hasn't been much description about how money works in Btech. Is it pure fiat like modern money? Gold standard? Germanium standard? HPG standard (1 millibyte over 1 light year, IIRC)?
AFAIK, only the C-bill had any real validity as a currency, being based on the HPG standard.
The old House books talked about how every house had 'savings' in the form of water, gold, and germanium, but I reckon these are merely commodities on a fiat standard, similar to what we have today. And of course, all the attendant problems with fiat currency.
One counterargument is that fiat currency arose as a need to mobilise massive national resources, especially manpower, in order to pay them (see US Civil War). The relatively small sizes of the House militaries relative to their population argues against them using fiat currency.
But again, there is a counter-counterargument - that even with fiat currency, the costs of waging interstellar war are so immense that even the tyrants of the Powers cannot push too hard for fear of collapsing their economies completely.
If it was me, I'd base a new currency off the HPG standard, since it represents two important components of an interstellar civilization - energy and information over interstellar distances.
Problem? What if the HPGs go down?
Oopsie. :evil:
PS. Don't forget I'm a WOBBLIE!!!
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Aidan becoming saKhan and presumably Galaxy commander is quite dangerous for FedCom. With Kristen Redmond badly wounded, will her subordinates us it as an excuse to shift her over to solhama?
Not gonna lie though, seeing Tyra firefox her way to freedom was satisfying, though Trent will likely suffer the consequences of her daring escape.
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Anybody writing about currency needs to read about von Mises' Theory of Money and Credit. A fun supplementary by Mencius Moldbug is also useful.
https://www.unqualified-reservations.org/2008/01/how-to-actually-restore-gold-standard/
I find von Mises to be factually wrong about the money economy being proceeded by a barter economy. What records we have of Sumeria resemble far more a command economy than they do any sort of barter system. Barter economies are what money economies devolve into without money, and also, the gold standard is bad and there is no reason to reinstate it or seek to do so. Let me remind you that the gold standard, in fact, did almost nothing to 'tame the market and finance' and was in full effect in 1929. Maybe Bitcoin is a suitable stand-in for commodity money, but HPG transmission time, which varies in price depending on a host of factors, is not, and ComStar not only holds a monopoly on it's production, but regularly and clearly engages in manipulation of their pricing of it.
But more seriously, the Labor Credit is clearly based on not a commodity theory of money but a Labor Theory of value, so you should start your critiques with Das Kapital, not with Theorie des Geldes und der Umlaufsmittel. Here's one critique that suits it quite well.
Labour vouchers would tend to maintain the idea that our human worth is determined by how much or how many goods we can own (or produce). Labour vouchers imply that a very huge administrative organisation must police who takes the goods produced by society. In other words, there must be people who spend their time ensuring that other people do not take things without paying for them. That is normal in a profit-oriented society, but a waste of human labour in socialism.
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ComStar not only holds a monopoly on it's production, but regularly and clearly engages in manipulation of their pricing of it.
To us Wobblies, it's a feature, not a bug. :tongue:
But to cut short a long counterargument, I'd say fiat money is also entirely susceptible to manipulation.
As Moldbug said in his essay,
If the gold standard is really brutally abused, as it was in the 1920s and ’30s, it will turn on its abusers with a vengeance. This is not a bug, but a feature. Gold works because it keeps the government honest. And surely anyone of any political persuasion can agree that honest government beats the converse.
You may also read Alan Greenspan (https://constitution.org/1-Activism/mon/greenspan_gold.htm)(I think he was a person of some importance :tongue:) for his analysis of the role of gold in the economic crisis in the 1920s and 1930s.
Taking off my Wobblie hat and putting on the idealist one, I would use germanium backed currency. After all, while HPGs are nice, they aren't essential. KF drives existed long before HPGs, and germanium is the critical element for it. So a germanium-backed currency seems appropriate for an interstellar polity that runs on it.
But given this is BTech, and the costs of waging interstellar war, I'd say fiat money and the means to control a welfare-warfare economy has to be the way to go.
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any monetary policy is able to be manipulated. Precious metals and other commodities, by the buying whatever it is off the market or the flooding of the market, credit by screwing up your economy so that your national credit rating suffers or flooding the market with paper/digital currency, or Fiat by either screwing up by the numbers with your government or making to many decrees that, like credit, floods the currency market with your currency vs physical goods, all are ways that the value of currency can be manipulated
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But to cut short a long counterargument, I'd say fiat money is also entirely susceptible to manipulation.
Well, of course it is. This is what allows for flexibility in the economy, for it to grow as population and industry expand.
A specie-based economy can only expand by debasing the specie, or increasing the quantity of specie -- look at how the Spanish economy suffered after they started importing massive amounts of gold and silver from the New World in the 16th century for an example of what can happen there.
All forms of currency, fiat or specie, are vulnerable to manipulation, debasement, and deliberate attack. (Witness, for example, the German attempts to flood Britain with counterfeit pound notes during WW2.)
I would still like to hear from Drakensis why the Sharks have gone within not much time at all from saying they would do best to take 20-30 years to even begin transitioning currency from the yen to the work credit/Kerensky, in order to preserve public confidence in the occupied Combine's economy, to saying they should do so immediately - a step that they had previously agreed would be disastrous.
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To us Wobblies, it's a feature, not a bug. :tongue:
But to cut short a long counterargument, I'd say fiat money is also entirely susceptible to manipulation.
As Moldbug said in his essay,
You may also read Alan Greenspan (https://constitution.org/1-Activism/mon/greenspan_gold.htm)(I think he was a person of some importance :tongue:) for his analysis of the role of gold in the economic crisis in the 1920s and 1930s.
Taking off my Wobblie hat and putting on the idealist one, I would use germanium backed currency. After all, while HPGs are nice, they aren't essential. KF drives existed long before HPGs, and germanium is the critical element for it. So a germanium-backed currency seems appropriate for an interstellar polity that runs on it.
But given this is BTech, and the costs of waging interstellar war, I'd say fiat money and the means to control a welfare-warfare economy has to be the way to go.
Hoo boy, okay I've read the article and from line one it's a horror show. Published in Ayn Rand's newsletter is a true sign of worthless ink. Then once again, he states that money (gold) is the only way to avoid barter or have a specialized economy, when it clearly isn't. Now he's rambling on about what makes a desirable, useful backing for wealth, dismissing normal commodities outright and specifying it must be a luxury good. And then he proposes a conspiracy theory where it was somehow not being on the gold standard while simultaneously being on it that caused the Great Depression. Finally, he closes it out with a rallying cry that to abandon the gold standard will be to abandon the ideals of PROPERTY and to enable mass wealth confiscation, the ultimate horror of any fan of Ayn Rand. Clearly, he knew that he wasn't actually here to make serious policy proposals or to actually publish a valuable economic paper, but to make the kind of self-congratulating pap that would go down easy to the newsletter's readership and make them nod and go "It's True, it's True!" I am not taken in. Or to paraphrase Moldburg, "Those who do not believe in the Gold Standard won't be convinced by me."
Germanium is not a good reserve material, because it belongs in starships, not in vaults. Landing on a planet and scuttling your colony ship to assure a strong local currency makes no sense because there's nobody here to use Germanium, and it was more useful in the spaceship to begin with this is...trivially obvious. Filling fort Knox with Germanium isn't strong monetary policy of the Star League, it's FASA not understanding how else to signal that the economy was strong, yet futuristic. But it makes about as much sense as a titanium-backed currency does for the US, despite the key nature of that input in the aerospace sector.
As for why the Sharks are doing this-it's a half-way step to issue a currency that looks just like the one in service but with a different picture on the money, or a way to get some kind of control of local banking, or they're genuinely short of cash to run the economy because mattresses have been getting thicker with yen, or maybe a covert attempt to re-capitalize the economy and turn the merchant factors into the bank rollers of the Society, or it's just plain stubborn stupidity of going ahead and doing a thing even though you're told it's a bad idea. Maybe it's the merchants wanting to appease the warriors who want to control things by providing a fig-leaf of control even though it's increasingly clear that the needs of the combine economy for money to keep functioning are wagging the financial policy of the clan.
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I would still like to hear from Drakensis why the Sharks have gone within not much time at all from saying they would do best to take 20-30 years to even begin transitioning currency from the yen to the work credit/Kerensky, in order to preserve public confidence in the occupied Combine's economy, to saying they should do so immediately - a step that they had previously agreed would be disastrous.
They're not planning to do so immediately.
They're talking about phasing in the Damon as an Inner Sphere style currency as an interim measure when the infrastructure supports it, coins (and paper and electronic) currency that functions the way that the yen does, so that they can bring in a currency that will be easier for the Dominion's citizens to accept.
That infrastructure can be brought in over 5-10 years, allowing a medium term transition without the strains involved with the Kerensky. Getting rid of the yen is still important to them, particularly since there's also the OWA currency circulating now and using currencies controlled by other states is not usually a good idea.
Warrior caste?: "And then we switch to the work credits?"
Merchant Caste: "And then we could switch to the work credit."
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I’m still trying to get my head around how work credits that expire every month are supposed to work in the first place.
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I’m still trying to get my head around how work credits that expire every month are supposed to work in the first place.
That is indeed the economic elephant in the room.
Inflation is BAD, because it destroys accumulated monetary wealth and makes more long-term investments difficult to impossible (but DEflation is even worse, so a slight amount of inflation is actually the preferred state of being), so how the INSERT-PROFANITY-OF-CHOICE-HERE is a kind of inflation completely prevents accumulation of monetary wealth not an obviously stupid choice?
Unless, of course, Nicholas Kerensky wanted the lower castes to be destitute and miserable, which, him being Nicholas Kerensky, I´m not ruling out.
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The thing about it is that Little Nicholas grew up in a RATION based wartime economy, (which is a type of FIAT currency) and he seemingly figured that if they have this, and no way to squirrel away resources, revolutionaries and malcontents won't be able to effectively revolt.
Arguably he wasn't wrong as this is a common attempt with most dictatorial governments. unfortunately it usually fails due to military coups. but Nikky got around that by having the biggest baddest warriors be in charge anyway
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I'm still partial to the theory that Nicky was deliberately trying to cripple the clans so they couldn't go back.
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I’m still trying to get my head around how work credits that expire every month are supposed to work in the first place.
I mean, actual labor vouchers (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Labour_voucher) are a thing in some systems of far-left economics, but have mostly been supplanted in anarchist circles by UBI and 'just let people have what they need' and in MLM communist circles by 'we'll just use money until we don't need it anymore'. Not only do they expire, but they are also non-transferable and cannot circulate, meaning that while a laborer can use work credits to buy food from a merchant, the merchant cannot then turn around and use the work credit to buy anything-once spent it vanishes. These credits probably expire on a 'first out, last in' system where the oldest available are 'spent' at every opportunity, so the entire account doesn't expire every month. The clan's system is....well it exists! I honestly don't know how to square it with itself, since supposedly everyone gets one of 25 levels of work-credits given to them every month they are employed, but also each workplace has a limited number of work credits and targets to hit?
It's a panopticon, that's the important bit, clan monetary systems are designed to only work within the clan, not to work without it, and political control of the system and the population is vital.
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Don't try to rationalize FASANomics - is one of the best ways to go insane.
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I smell burning catgirl again.
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Opalescent Reflections
Stacking the Deck
Chapter 15
Rubigen HPG Station, Rubigen
Clan Smoke Jaguar Occupation Zone
29 March 3056
Tyra sat on one side of an interview room and waited for the door on the other side to open. The barrier that divided the room in two seemed fragile, but she had been told it was resistant to small arms and rated even to withstand an unarmored elemental long enough for guards to respond.
Somehow she doubted that it would be required.
There was nothing left on her that belonged to Clan Smoke Jaguar. The borrowed flight suit, the helmet, everything down to her underwear had been taken away. Just as she had lost everything in the crash on Camlann, her past had once again been stripped away.
Very nearly, at any rate. Her fingers ran over the one reminder she had kept, hidden in her pocket.
The door opened and admitted the visitor. Tyra took her hand out of her pocket and looked at him, wondering what he saw when he met her gaze.
If she had changed over the last day - it had been only thirty hours since they parted ways! - so had Trent. His face bore bruises and there were three minor cuts, none of which had apparently received more cursory medical treatment. The mechwarrior moved stiffly as he took the seat facing Tyra - perhaps the mark of anger, or of more injuries beneath his coveralls. Both, maybe. There was no Tau Galaxy badge on the uniform, nor the markings of the 101st Jaguar Attack Cluster.
And the rank pins reflected a mechwarrior, not a Star Captain.
“Trent.”
“Tyra.” And then, with almost heartbreaking anguish: “Why?!”
Tyra looked away. Not in regret for her actions… but for what they had cost him. “I am a loyal daughter of the Republic.”
“There is no republic anymore, Tyra,” Trent challenged. “Your future, their future, was with the Clans. Don’t you see that?”
“The Rasalhague people have endured oppression before, Trent. The Republic lives as long as we believe in it.”
“It didn’t need to be like this.”
A bitter laugh tore from her throat. “Is this where you ask me to go back? Because we both know where that leads.”
“I am not stupid.” He paused. “Not that stupid, although… I did trust you. So I am a fool.”
“For that, I am sorry Trent. If there is anything good in the Smoke Jaguars, it is you and… any who might be like.”
“I tried to show you that good,” the Smoke Jaguar told her. “Is it so difficult to believe that we can co-exist. That my people and yours could build something together?”
Tyra looked up at him and realized that the corners of her eyes were prickling with unshed tears. “I saw Reykjavik burn, Trent. I saw your Clan’s reaction to even perceived obstruction. That is not a bridge that you can build with me. Not after that.”
“That was a dreadful, horrible mistake. I have never even pretended to approve of it.”
“And for that?” She gave him a sad smile. “You will always be second to Jez Howell and her ilk, in the eyes of the Smoke Jaguars. The rest of your Clan condemn Lincoln Osis for his failure… but not for the atrocity.”
“That’s not true.”
“Trent, take this from someone who is not…” She paused, then broke the habit of the last few years. “Who isn’t blinded by love of his Clan: the Smoke Jaguars are not what you want them to be. You are not like them. Perhaps if more of them were, then I would be wrong. But I stand by this: I have done the right thing by leaving.” And by a certain other thing she would not tell him.
Trent lowered his head in defeat.
Tyra knew what his answer would be, but she had to try. “You could come with me. We both know I’ve ruined what’s left of your career. I can vouch for you. You are a man of honor and you deserve better.”
“Neg. I am Smoke Jaguar.” He looked up, striking his chest lightly with one fist. “To the bone.”
“Your Clan, right or wrong?”
A crooked smile started to form, though it lacked strength. “If right to be kept right, and when wrong, to be set right. I am not entirely ignorant of ancient history, Tyra.”
“One more way you are different from your Clan,” she told him. Then, reaching into her pocket she produced the one memento she had left. “You came to recover everything that belonged to them. Everything I brought with me, what’s left of the fighters…”
“And one body,” he told her grimly. The pilot of the Sulla had not survived his sudden experience of lithobraking.
“And one body,” Tyra agreed and placed the last piece of Clan Smoke Jaguar’s property she had into the shallow tray that was the only way of passing things through the barrier. “This is yours too.”
Trent pushed the lid across and pulled out the triple-woven bondcord. Two of the strands had been severed, but the last remained unbroken. “I am surprised that you didn’t cut it to pieces.”
“No. Take it all. Because there is nothing between us any more,” Tyra lied. She rose and turned away, knocking on the door with her knuckles. Hoping the door would open and let her leave before the only friend she’d had for almost five whole years saw her cry for him.
Unity City, North America
Terra, Sol System
30 May 3056
Restoration around Unity City had continued since Victor’s last visit. He didn’t think anyone would be running a Star League out of the ruins any time soon, but the support facilities for the various embassy estates were fully active and the conference facilities had been improved.
In this case, that meant that the House Lords sat at the front of a circle of tiered seating, with separate wedges for every one of the nine participating states. The room was very quiet, very comfortable and very well kitted out with the hundreds of seats, each with their own small fold-out computer screen and keyboard, linked into enough individual processing power to run a battlemech.
Victor could only imagine what his students on Sarna would have got up to if they had a lecture theater like this. Probably a lot more than their assigned classwork. Students could be imaginative.
A holographic map of the Inner Sphere spun in the center of the darkened room, coreward regions at the top. It was an all too familiar map, but the regions occupied by the Clans were brought up in detail with icons representing military strength, both the hard factors of combat units and jumpships, and the soft ones of logistical centers, command and communication, resource extraction, factories, routing…
“Thank you, Primus Wei.” Minoru Kurita did not appear to sweat under the spotlight that highlighted him as the speaker. Everyone in the first ring was illuminated by such a light, though they were dimmed to half intensity when not speaking.
The Coordinator gestured to the display. “The first consideration that seems obvious to me is that we do not have the resources to drive the Clans from the our realms. Not completely, at least at this time. Even if we could deploy enough forces to bury them without taking catastrophic losses, something that may be attainable in the medium term, the shipping to move them is not available.”
“The second,” he added, “is the information we lack. So long as the Clan Homeworlds are unknown to us, even completely reclaiming every world in the Inner Sphere and the near Periphery would not eliminate them as a threat.”
As the light around Minoru Kurita dimmed, another licked out to pinpoint Anastasius Focht, sat slightly behind and to one side of Primus Wei Rong. Other than her opening remarks, the Primus had said nothing so far, but she had tight control over who was speaking. Surprisingly, no one had complained yet, but Victor thought it was only a matter of time.
“While I will leave any discussion of the Coordinator’s second point to the Explorer Corps upcoming briefing, I concur with his first point,” the Precentor Martial confirmed. “Even including the full merchant fleet available through our Order, and using forces pre-positioned in ComStar enclaves, the number of jumpships necessary for a full push across the occupied regions would at best mean depriving many of the less prosperous regions of the Inner Sphere of much of their jumpships. At worst, key trade routes would have to be stripped which would then have a knock-on effect on the economies of the states here.” He paused and bowed slightly to the Magestrix, who was flanked by the representatives of the Outworlds and the Taurians. “I specify the Inner Sphere intentionally, since I do not believe there is much, if any, slack with the shipping available to that of the more outlying nations present.”
“I appreciate that no insult was intended,” Jeffrey Calderon noted quietly.
“This leaves us with only a staged offensive, as an option,” Focht concluded. “Retaking one region at a time with periods of consolidation until a satisfactory conclusion is reached. What that conclusion is, would be a political decision.”
The light dimmed and this time another came on, bringing Christian Mansdottir into view from where he sat at the fringes of the Draconis Combine delegation. Rasalhague had not been extended the status of full membership, given their complete lack of any territory whatsoever.
“I am sure it will not surprise anyone that my recommendation is that we strike at the holdings of Clan Wolf and Clan Smoke Jaguar,” the general asserted. “However, I am not suggesting that solely because it would free my nation from the Clans.” He indicated the map. “We can all see here that the vast majority of the ComStar enclaves behind the truce line are within that region, and with the ComGuards deploying as part of a counter offensive, the chances of the Clans tolerating those enclaves is negligible. They also provide potential staging areas all the way back to the Periphery.”
Victor looked at the map and shook his head, tapping the control indicating that he was requesting permission to speak. His parents had confirmed that he had their blessing to speak up, no doubt seeing this as an education in statecraft for him.
“A restored Free Rasalhague Republic would cut the Clans’ occupation in half,” Mansdottir continued, “And offer bases to strike well into the rear of the other Clans once the time comes for further campaigns against them. We know that Clan Wolf is currently weakened by the schism in their ranks, something that the Clans’ recruitment practices mean they will need decades to recover from, while Clan Smoke Jaguar’s destruction can and must be one of our primary long term objectives. If there is any Clan that we cannot co-exist with, it is the Clan who burned Reykjavik.”
To Victor’s surprise, just as the light faded out over Mansdottir, he was brought into visibility. Perhaps Wei Rong wanted to test his mettle as well?
“With the greatest respect to General Mansdottir, who has stated the advantages of his proposal,” Victor pointed out, “The Clans’ coordination with each other is minimal most of the time and we know they all have independent chains of HPGs back to their homeworlds, so they can communicate with each other whatever we do.”
No one spoke up to disagree.
“I’m concerned that if we follow this plan,” he continued, “That we’ll find ourselves with a long salient that functionally doubles the borders we have to defend as we regroup before any hypothetical further advance. Please don’t take this as meaning I’m reluctant to retake Tamar, Rasalhague or Alshain - those are all worthy goals, just as worthy as defending ComStar’s enclaves. But that’s going to have to come after we deal with some of the Clans on the flanks or we’ll wind up overextended.” Victor paused and spread his hands slightly. “Obviously there are arguments in favor of each flank, and I’m sure the Coordinator will politely disagree with me over which is best to start with.”
There was a ripple of laughter as Victor tapped the control to confirm he was done speaking. When the light on him was gone he could see his father give him a pleased nod.
Victor enjoyed that warm feeling for a moment before Minoru Kurita spoke again.
“My brother has prepared a brief presentation on the advantages of striking first at Clan Diamond Shark,” the Coordinator advised. “Perhaps once he has made his case, Prince Victor would make his own case. We can then consider which of the three approaches makes most sense and see if anyone has any alternative approaches.”
When Victor looked over at his father, he saw Hanse nodding amiably, a crooked smile that proclaimed that everything was going to his plan.
Dammit, he thought. I’ve been set up. Okay, one quick and simple presentation. I just need to pretend I’m back at the Martial Academy…
Unity City, North America
Terra, Sol System
30 May 3056
Minoru Kurita was content to sit back and watch the faces around the inner circle of the conference as Franklin made his sales pitch.
That would have been an unfair way to describe it back in the Combine, but his half-brother had made serious money as a merchant, to the point that Chandrasekhar Kurita himself had praised him seriously rather than in insincere phrases. That was one very good reason for Franklin to front this… petition.
Because that was what it was, Minoru mused. The mighty Draconis Combine of his grandfather’s day was no more. He and his people needed other’s help just to protect their reduced borders, much less to regain worlds for the Dragon. That help would come at a price and Minoru knew that compared to some of the sharks circling, he was nothing but a minnow - unskilled and unproven compared to older and wiser rulers, and without any great accomplishments bar mere survival to make his name.
He saw Mitchell Avellar nod in appreciation as Franklin pointed out that a campaign against the Diamond Sharks should liberate the worlds of the Outworlds Alliance currently under clan rule, as well as those of the Combine.
Hanse Davion smiled amiably when the factories on Luthien and Irece were mentioned. Access to the Clan technology there should be a big draw and as little as Minoru liked it, he had no option but to offer an equal share to partners in a campaign… But the First Prince only smiled and said nothing.
ComStar would also likely be interested, but the Coordinator already knew that Wei Rong would defer any assessment of military value for others and wouldn’t be personally moved at all. Which was unfortunate. Minoru thought it was decidedly unfair that the woman’s mild temperament, excellent looks and evident intelligence put her squarely in line with all the criteria recommended for him to marry.
He certainly couldn’t marry the Primus of ComStar. The mere proposal would be a catastrophe, probably worse rejected than accepted but barely. And how could he tell men twice his age that he wanted to marry ‘someone like her’?
The news of some factional politics within the Diamond Sharks was Franklin’s finale, and that did get a look of interest from Thomas Marik, but overall…
Well, one reason Franklin was making the pitch was that if Minoru was rejected it reflected more directly on him than if it was his brother that failed to secure support.
It was definitely the lesser prize though. Minoru had to make a deliberate effort to stay calm. The Clan on his border was overstretched for now, but they had shifted from expanding their dominion at his expense to seizing the hearts and minds of the people they now ruled. No, that was wrong. They hadn’t shifted, they had been doing it all along, it was merely shrouded by their more obvious threat.
Worlds where the dragon had reigned unchallenged for seven centuries might now have to be forced back into compliance like worlds that had changed hands twice every century since they had first been colonized. Assuming that they could be taken back. Both problems were growing.
The focus shifted back to Victor Steiner-Davion, the short blond prince looking surprisingly calm after being challenged to present the advantages of a push against the Jade Falcons, Steel Vipers and Nova Cats with almost no warning. Minoru wouldn’t normally have made that invitation but consent had come from the Archon by way of Omi and if it was a small favor to House Steiner… well, that favor would be repaid. Fools might doubt Melissa Steiner’s steel, but he had no desire to be in that company, and Steiners honored their debts in much the same way that courtiers honored their grudges.
“Since Lord Kurita has done an excellent job of laying out the issues of a campaign,” the prince began, “I won’t belabor points he’s already addressed. Given the interlocked occupation zones of the Falcons, Cats and Vipers, any offensive out of the Federated Commonwealth will mean engaging with the forces of three Clans.” He took control of the map, highlighting the units identified for the three Clans in question.
“I consider this an advantage,” Victor continued, jerking everyone’s attention back to him from the map. “Because when the ComGuards move against the Clans, that will invalidate the truce line. We must assume that any Clans not engaged by us will see this as their opportunity to move towards Terra, given their goal of securing and claiming the title of ilClan.”
Franklin cursed under his breath, and Minoru felt like doing the same.
“This means that we have to assume that any military operations we launch will require defensive forces along the other borders with the Clans,” the prince said, gesturing up at the map. “Striking at the Diamond Sharks and perhaps the Ghost Bears as well would place two Clans on the defensive, but frees five to attack, meaning the Federated Commonwealth would need to commit the bulk of their forces against the four Clans we share borders with, and be largely unavailable to assist on the other front. However, if we are carrying the bulk of an offensive against these three Clans, this also threatens the currently weakened Clan Wolf beyond them. I don’t mean to dismiss the threat posed by Clan Smoke Jaguar or Clan Ghost Bear, but as the Diamond Sharks are currently overstretched to deal with their expanded borders that means that they will likely commit only a relatively small portion of their forces to an advance.”
The map focused on the jump routes between Camlann and Terra. Entirely too many of those worlds were in the crimson of the Draconis Combine… and Minoru had pulled much of the forces in that region away to buy time around New Samarkand and Galedon V. The defenses there were not in an ideal state.
The heir to the Federated Commonwealth gave them all a wry look. “We can’t assume that the Clans will sit back and let us fight on our terms. Either way, this war will have to be fought on multiple fronts.”
There was a grim silence, cut through as Hanse Davion began to slowly clap. “Well that drags the rug out from under us,” the oldest of the Successor Lords told the room. “Back to the drawing board.”
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Yamashiro, New Samarkand
Diamond Shark Dominion
31 May 3056
Ace was flanked by his three Star Colonels as the new arrivals marched into the hall, all of them wearing dress uniforms. Formation marching wasn’t the most critical of skills for a warrior, but it had its place and they were in a five wide column - each rank sent left or right to the seats waiting for them to either side of the central aisle. More than a hundred warriors, young and fresh faced. Almost all of them were proudly carrying two swords hung at their sides.
There had been a suggestion of armed guards for this meeting, in case the new recruits tried to use their swords to wipe out the Galaxy’s command staff. Ace had given the idea thought and then dismissed it - he had to trust that four years of training had weeded out most, if not all, those with ambitions to still serve House Kurita to the point of suicide.
I’m twenty-nine, Ace thought as he looked at them. Ten years ago, I was even younger than them. I was… I wasn’t even a Diamond Shark back then. It’s another couple of weeks short of the date I beat Blake Hawker for a place in the Clan. It felt longer in some ways, sometimes he almost forgot that no one had called him Ace back then.
Other days those years seemed to have passed in a flash.
“Welcome to New Samarkand,” he said once the warriors were all seated. “And welcome to Epsilon Galaxy. For those confused, the Ace Enders you may have seen in the media is an actor. I am your galaxy commander.”
There was a whisper of “O-Same” from somewhere along the new arrivals. While few of them had the diminutive size of a Clan aerospace pilot, he knew that almost a third of them were destined for the aerospace trinaries. It wouldn’t bring the trinaries to full strength but at least they’d bring Epsilon Galaxy’s aerospace strength up above a hundred fighters.
The losses against the Alliance Military Corps had been concentrated among the aerospace arm. Epsilon Galaxy hadn’t lost a dropship, but some of their transports would need heavy repairs and replacements were even harder to come by than pilots who had died to keep dropships from being taken down by the First and Second Alliance Air Wings.
There had been much glory for those pilots, and a death toll to match.
“You, all of you, made the choice I did,” he told the warriors. “You chose Clan Diamond Shark. Some of you may have doubted this, but it is true that I was not born among the Diamond Sharks. Not even in one of the Clans. Ten years from now… one of you may be in my shoes, welcoming new warriors to the touman.”
Probably not as Galaxy Commanders, unless policies changed wildly about bloodnames and the way that that enhanced one’s prospects. But there were Star Colonels who lacked a bloodname. Some of the Star Colonels for garrison clusters were even freeborn and Ace didn’t see that as being phased back. If someone excelled, then a frontline Cluster wasn’t impossible.
And who knew what would change by 3066?
“Every Galaxy in the touman is associated with a valuable material. Gems, typically. But Epsilon Galaxy is associated with ivory. All of you were born in the Draconis Combine, I would be surprised if you did not know that this was one of the five pillars that House Kurita claim to revere: gold for themselves, steel for their army…” Ace smirked slightly. “Jade for wealth and prosperity, teak for education and scholarship and ivory for philosophy and culture.”
“Nicholas Kerensky established five castes for the Clans. It is easy to equate some of the pillars to our castes. Jade for the merchant, teak for the scientist, steel…” He spread his hands, “For a warrior. Ivory is not such a good fit, some might say. But consider this: dead, ivory is a trophy. Traded for, carved and decorated. Used in many ways…. But what is ivory when it is alive?”
“Ivory is tusks, horns and teeth. Ivory is nature’s weapon, something that grows stronger as long as it lives, as long as it is deep rooted. I encourage you all to do likewise: remain rooted, and grow stronger. All of you were shaped for more than a decade by your families, and then for years by our training. Now it is time for you to build on that. There will be many challenges, sometimes from the warriors around you, and sometimes from those outside our Clan.”
Ace paused and then leant on the podium. “The latest news from Pesht should be of interest to you all. Our Clan was once named Sea Fox and we became the Diamond Shark when our enemies used sharks to hunt our totem almost to extinction. Yet in the waters of our new capital on Pesht - and yes, Pesht will be our capital now, we are moving all leadership functions from the Kerensky Cluster to the Inner Sphere - in the waters of Pesht, the Sea Fox is thriving.”
That transfer included some of the younger sibkos. One of them, Ace had been told, using his own genetic legacy. The first Enders sibko created since the absorption. It was perhaps ironic that the patrilineal donor had been from House Hawker… Ace was relieved that at least it had not come from Ian Hawker. That would have been awkward.
“There will be a vote - not soon, but within the next few years once the matter has been sufficiently debated - over whether we should resume our original name. Does that matter? I suggest you think about that: are we to remain unchanged from the Diamond Sharks who have hunted the DCMS across the stars for more than five years, or will we change once more, adapting to these new waters. It will not be my decision, nor only yours. Because every adult in the Dominion who has pledged their loyalty to our Clan will have their say. That is our way: five Castes, but one Clan.”
Ace stepped back from the podium. This was where he would hand over to the Star Colonels, each of whom would run through a list of the warriors assigned to them and tell them the specific assignments that had been decided upon.
However, before Angus Labov could take Ace’s place, one of the warriors in front of them rose to his feet. “Galaxy Commander,” he called out. “With your permission, I have been entrusted with a delivery for you.”
That wasn’t part of the plan, but the new warriors naturally wouldn’t have been consulted. Hopefully this wouldn’t be a suicide attack.
“You may step forwards,” Ace allowed with a gesture for Angus to stay sat down.
The young man shuffled past one of his comrades to reach the central aisle. He was carrying a long black cylinder - it must have been on his back as he entered. Still, it was too large to have been missed on the way and there were guards outside - if only to ensure that no local dissidents stormed the palace.
With more reverence than Ace was comfortable with, the stocky pilot dropped to one knee before the dais, holding the cylinder flat on his upraised palms before carrying it up to the steps. The galaxy commander gestured to the podium, side-stepping. “Please come up here…”
“Satoru, sir.” He obeyed, stepping to face Ace rather than taking the podium directly. Now he held the cylinder carefully in one hand before opening three clasps along its length. “Sir, I have been asked by the administrative council of Pesht to deliver this work to you, commissioned for your personal use.”
Then Satoru flipped the case open. It split evenly, a foam interior holding the contents securely.
Each half held a scabbarded sword - katana below and wakizashi above. The scabbards were an off white color - Ace leaned in slightly and realized that each appeared to be made of ivory, perhaps even a single piece each. The guards were wrapped in blue and green thread, the guards, pommel and the end of each scabbard blued steel.
Realizing that he was holding his breath, Ace reached out and pulled out the wakizashi, bringing it into the view of everyone present. The guard, he saw, had a diamond shark chasing a fox, itself chasing the shark around the tang of the blade. A simple circle contained the two animals, completing the guard. When he drew the sword, it slipped forth smoothly, feeling comfortable and balanced.
Meeting Satoru’s eyes, Ace was sure the man looked familiar. He sheathed the wakizashi and thrust it, scabbard and all, through his belt before lifting the katana from the case. There was something tucked beneath the blade, card crammed into the foam.
Holding the sword in one hand, seeing it was a perfect match for the shorter blade, Ace unfolded the card with his other hand.
Well, now he knew why the pilot looked familiar. The card was a simple photograph, showing a proud Satoru in full uniform at what had to be his graduation ceremony. And stood by him, looking awkward in the uniform of a Diamond Shark reservist, the swordsmith Suzuki Satoru, had one arm around the younger man. Side by side the familial resemblance was unmistakable.
“Your… father?” Ace asked quietly.
“My grandfather, sir.” The pilot swallowed and then added: “He asked me to tell you… what he would not do for the man who slew his lord, he offers to the man who has given us our voice.”
Unity City, North America
Terra, Sol System
1 June 3056
Wei had wanted to open the conference with this briefing, but checking the numbers had taken a bit longer than expected and there was no way she was having someone stand up a couple of days later and say ‘well actually’.
“Earlier in our discussions we touched on the whereabouts of the Clan Homeworlds,” she informed the conference. “Today I would like to introduce Precentor Wu-Fei Tang, a member of our Explorer Corps, to discuss the search for those worlds.”
The light on Wei dimmed and a new spotlight illuminated one of the seats in the ranks behind her. Since that made it rather hard to see Tang, Wei split her attention between his face on the small screen built into her chair and the presentation running in the center of the circle of seating.
A small map of the inner sphere and near periphery spun slowly, a fat wedge of space outlined in red rising up towards the galactic core. “Our starting position,” Tang announced, “was the knowledge that the Clans had settled corewards of the Inner Sphere and a rough estimate of the distance.”
The upper half of the wedge cut off. “Barring a change in the range of their jumpships, which we have absolutely no evidence of and that the Wolf Dragoons jumpship crews would have had to know about, they could not be more than sixteen hundred light years from the edge of the Inner Sphere. Given our own explorations over the last two hundred years, which were,” the Precentor admitted, “to some degree aimed exactly at finding out where Kerensky’s fleet had gone, it was very unlikely that they were less than five hundred light years away.”
The image grew slightly, focusing in on the wedge. “This left us an area rather considerably larger than the Inner Sphere to search. From there, our exploration ships have been trying to locate signs of Clan activity between one hundred and two hundred light years from the edge of the Inner Sphere.”
A few lights appeared in the wedge, all more or less central to the region. “There has been a considerable amount of luck involved in finding the examples we have - a handful of jumpship sightings, a recharge station and two planets where non-perishable goods are sometimes dropped off for later collection. However, the simple fact is that almost every hit was between the Clan’s original invasion corridors and the galactic core, indicating that their homeworlds were probably similarly centrally placed to our search area.”
Tang smiled thinly. “Given that Kerensky departed from New Samarkand and the Wolf Dragoons arrived at New Delos, the anti-spinward region was always considered the least likely location.” The wedge narrowed considerably, and truncated as the regions near to the Inner Sphere were also removed from consideration.
“And then,” he continued, “We benefited through one person’s valor.” The map was briefly replaced by a head and shoulders shot of a blonde woman wearing a Rasalhague dress uniform. “Kapten Tyra Miraborg is, so far as we are aware, the only person taken as a bondsman who has traveled to the Clan homeworlds and returned. Earlier this year, she managed to reach the HPG station on Rubigen and claim sanctuary.”
Miraborg was replaced by the map, this time rotating into a full three dimensional view of the galaxy.
“During her time with the Clans, Kapten Miraborg took sightings on several prominent stars above the galactic plane,” Tang told them all. “And she managed to smuggle that data back. The sightings are crude, but comparing them to our own maps we have been able to filter out errors - the result of her limited equipment, not any lack of competence.”
Six stars were illuminated and lines converged from them to single out one spot on the display. “Based on the data we have, we are now confident that the Clan’s homeworlds are located here, behind the Caliban Nebula. We believe that the nebula is referred to in the Clans’ Remembrance as the Veil of the Protector, hiding their stars from our direct observation.” Tang smiled confidently. “However, the astronomical surveys taken by generations of Explorer Corps vessels gives us an excellent idea of where those stars are.”
The shot zoomed in on the convergence of the lines. “We are confident that the world visited by the Kapten, named Huntress, is orbiting a G-type main sequence star, almost certainly one smaller than Sol. Our potential region of error as to its location is slightly less than a hundred light years and one former member of the Wolf Dragoons has confirmed that Huntress is located near the center of what the Clans refer to as the Kerensky Cluster, a region only around two hundred and fifty light years across that contains the majority of Clan worlds, including their capital.”
Three stars within that region pulsed brightly. “These are the only likely candidates to be the star that Huntress orbits. Unless the Clans have adopted a practice of operating under total radio silence in their homeworlds, any ship visiting at least one of these star systems should be able to identify by background signals, however indecipherable, which star systems in the vicinity have been colonized.”
The display blanked and on her screen, Wei saw Tang bow. “In essence, the Clan homeworlds… have been found.”
Archon Steiner-Davion was fastest on the request to speak, and she rose to her feet. “Do I take it, Primus, that ComStar is proposing that we strike directly at the Clan’s homeworlds? The logistics of this would seem more than merely challenging.”
Wei waved her hand dismissively. “I am no soldier, Archon. I would not presume to suggest a strategy. With that said, the Precentor Martial was victorious on Camlann so if I may grant him the floor?”
The Archon sat down again and Wei gratefully let Anastasius Focht take the lead. She suspected that the tall, white-haired officer looked far more imposing than she did.
“In broad-strokes,” he declared, adjusting his eye-patch, “the strategy that we propose is fourfold.”
The map showing the Clan homeworld’s approximate location lit up again. “The first, if smallest, part is an expedition to confirm and map the locations of the Clan’s homeworlds. While this would ideally be carried out without being noticed, once this has been accomplished and Explorer Corps jumpships carrying out their surveys are on their way back to the Inner Sphere with this data, the military escort will carry out a raid in force on either a single significant world - Huntress would be ideal if it can be found - or several lesser targets, demonstrating that we possess the capability to strike at their homes.”
“This seems like a rather token gesture,” Sun-Tzu Liao observed quietly.
Focht nodded. “That is correct, Chancellor. However, the Clans have little way to tell whether it is the first stage of a larger invasion. The mere possibility will force them to consider their defenses more seriously and divert attention from reinforcing their occupation zones in the Inner Sphere. In an ideal world, the mere threat might bring them to the negotiating table but I confess I find that possibility slim.”
“It could also enrage them,” warned Mitchell Avellar cautiously.
Minoru Kurita leant forwards. “They are already invading us, Lord Avellar. I believe we are beyond the point of worrying about provocation.”
“Quite so,” Focht agreed. “I believe that the bulk of our efforts should take place here in the Inner Sphere. Once more exact information on the Clan homeworlds arrives, we may need to reconsider. There is an argument for not allowing the Clans to know that we have found their homeworlds until we can launch a more substantial attack, but the risk of our scout force being detected is sufficient and the logistical demands of a large scale attack so challenging, as the Archon correctly observed, that I feel it best to use surprise while we have it.”
“Something to be discussed further,” the Coordinator agreed. “And the larger parts of your plan - the other three-quarters?”
The Precentor tapped a control and the map moved back to the Occupation Zones. “Our plan proposes three multinational task forces be formed. Each would include a token force from all participants but the first would be built around the AFFC and it would have the objective of striking at worlds occupied by the Steel Vipers, which are mostly located in the anti-spinward regions, with the exceptions being relatively accessible in terms of distance. The goal would be to deprive the Clan of their bases here in the Inner Sphere, forcing them to either withdraw once more or to depend on other Clans for support.”
“And if they have staging areas to fall back on?” asked Jeffrey Calderon suspiciously. “I recall some speculation to that effect.”
“They do.” Wei was not acquainted particularly well with the Federated Commonwealth official who spoke - Malloy, or perhaps Mallory? “But we have located them - two former Rim Worlds colonies. They have mostly been abandoned in favor of their headquarters on Inarcs, but they are viable targets.”
Focht smiled thinly. “Clearly our Explorer Corps are not alone in seeking for the Clans’ presence in the periphery. In any event, the second of these task forces - third, counting the raid on the homeworlds - would be aimed to similarly drive Clan Ghost Bear from the Inner Sphere. Their occupation zone is even more compact than that of the Steel Vipers and while it would be a salient, exposed on both sides to the Clans, it is considerably less so than the Smoke Jaguar occupation zone would be.”
“And the fourth task force?” asked Candace Liao. She was sat next to her son, the seats for St Ives quite some distance away from the Capellan places.
“The fourth task force would act as an operational reserve,” the Precentor-Martial explained. “We have to anticipate that one or more Clans will push past the truceline, particularly once they are denied the use of our HPG services. The reserve would be used to counter-attack whichever Clan moves first to do that, as a warning to the others. In the event that we are fortunate enough not to have to face such an attack, the reserve can be employed to reinforce one or both of the attack forces, as seems best.”
“The fact the plan calls for a reserve is a mark in its favor,” Victor Steiner-Davion added. He had been ‘promoted’ to sit alongside his parents which made the front rank of the Federated Commonwealth table look a little packed.
“There would of course be considerable need for detailing the plan,” Focht agreed, “And similar plans may prove better once our staffs have begun to evaluate them. Removing two Clans would significantly reduce the Clans’ immediate strength and particularly in the case of the Ghost Bears it would provide well placed staging areas for operations deep in the Smoke Jaguar and Diamond Shark rears.”
The Precentor Martial returned to his seat and Wei checked who wished to speak, picking out Emma Centrella. The Magistrix was one of the few leaders not to have made a comment so far, so it was fair she had her turn.
For all the Canopian reputation for hedonism, Centrella herself had a far more martial presence than her late mother - and more restraint in her ambitions. The Magestrix planted both hands on the table. “We will need some time to consider the Precentor Martial’s proposal,” she declared, somewhat imperiously, “So for now all I will say on that topic is that it is the most sound plan so far, though I remain open to alternatives. I would instead wish to raise another matter.”
Wei nodded politely.
“While no one in this inner circle of seats has been so tasteless as to raise the elephant in the room,” Centrella declared, “I am not deaf to the whispering in certain nations’ delegations that this conference could herald the reformation of the Star League.”
There was a moment for polite restraint, but in this case Wei simply buried her face in her hands. She would be lucky if the Taurians didn’t pull out entirely just because this had been raised, never mind that it was one of their fellow Periphery leaders who did so.
“If anyone present does not know why I would have concerns about such a process,” the Magestrix continued, “I am sure a cursory examination of the history of the Reunification War would clarify those reasons. My presence here is much in the theme of my ancestor’s cooperation with House Avellar and House Calderon under the banner of the Independent Periphery States.”
“That is clearly understood,” Melissa Steiner-Davion conceded from her own seat.
“I do not believe this has been sufficiently stated,” Emma Centrella stated. “So let me draw the lines clearly before anyone inadvertently crosses them. I am here to discuss a military alliance against the Clans. I am open to discussion of economic matters, since it seems foolish not to take the opportunity of our meeting like this. I understand that we may fight under the banner of the Star League, since there are few other symbols that most of those at this conference could agree upon.” She paused. “And to close the circle, we will very likely need to choose - by which I mean elect - a Commanding General for this alliance.”
“I do not believe anyone here objects to any of that, Magestrix,” Kai Allard-Liao said quietly. “Where do you wish to draw the line?”
“If any of you bring up the position of First Lord,” she replied firmly, “Then I and my delegation will return home. I didn’t dethrone my mother just to be sucked into another bloody Succession War.”
This concludes Book 3: Stacking the Deck
Opalescent Reflections will continue in
Full House
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Bam, that's for sure a hell of a mic drop there.
Well done Emma. :evil:
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Alternative idea: Elect Emma Centrella as First Lord for a 3 year term, and rotate between the other Periphery nations before any of the Inner Sphere leaders get a look in?
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You actually need two people to manage the SL due to travel times putting a person out of touch.
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Mic drop indeed! Well played, Drakensis! :)
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And as strong and ending as usual, thank you!
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yum, sooo good.
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Makes you feel bad for Trent again, a good man in a rabid clan.
Alternative idea: Elect Emma Centrella as First Lord for a 3 year term, and rotate between the other Periphery nations before any of the Inner Sphere leaders get a look in?
She already made the statement, it would be very bad for her to go back on he word by being bribed by the very thing she claims to oppose. Star League is still hated in the Periphery (albeit not so viscerally in MC as it is in TC) and by blatantly betraying her principles, Emma would have opened herself to a threat of assassination or overthrow.
I think it's for the better, even as limited as it was, the position of the First Lord of the quasi Star League was too powerful and allowed for too much collateral damage.
Who would be the commanding general? Morgan Hasek would be a solid choice, but that would sour Taurians on contributing to the alliance, so Focht it is, probably turning over the command of Com Guards and taking up the mantle of Commanding General.
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No First Lord. Instead, the head position could be Advisor, or Counsellor, with the title and intent being of advice, 'counsel', that need not be followed, rather than dictates from a First Amongst Equals.
What good does that do though?
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I think the best that the Successor Lords can do here would be a joint declaration that the Star League is dissolved and the office of First Lord no longer exists. That not just placates the Periphery nations, it also pulls the rug out under any attempt to re-start the Succession Wars if/when the Clan threat is over.
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I think the best that the Successor Lords can do here would be a joint declaration that the Star League is dissolved and the office of First Lord no longer exists. That not just placates the Periphery nations, it also pulls the rug out under any attempt to re-start the Succession Wars if/when the Clan threat is over.
Very dubious about the whole "it also pulls the rug out under any attempt to re-start the Succession Wars if/when the Clan threat is over."
The innersphere hasn't really needed much justification to go to war with each other. The age of war being a prime example and if they follow the Aries Convention the only thing that 'declaring the Star League and First Lord are dead and gone' will do is eliminate one Just one of their justifications, They have dozens of others to use. The Davions, and Liaos at the least have known since the 1st war the league is gone and the first lord title is just that a 'title' you could say that everyone knew it by the time of Katrina Steiner's peace offer, stating it as fact in the open will change nothing. Sunny boy is still going to be butt hurt that repressive Communism loses wars, Marik is still going to have provinces want worlds, The Combine may 'moderate' for a while until they can move on their 'manifest destiny' of ruling all mankind! Steiner part of the FEDCOM will still want to make money hand over fist while getting free real estate when possible, and the Davion part of the FEDCOM will still wish to 'liberate and bring the six liberties to that free real estate'. The Periphery will still just want to be left alone. So take one bullet out of the magazine, there are still plenty of bullets let alone magazines let alone belts of ammo for the IS to go to war over! thank you.
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I've created a PDF document for Book 1, and may post others here in the future, for those who want a clean document as a PDF. This copy includes more formatting and credits... and cover art, courtesy of Wrangler.
Dealer's Choice (https://drive.google.com/file/d/1PxV5mTlVxbB_6hgy13fRG59NyvtblJ8h/view?usp=sharing)
House of Cards (https://drive.google.com/file/d/15yGH29ijWwLk732C20RhyySVNTlAcJmv/view?usp=sharing)
Stacking the Deck (https://drive.google.com/file/d/1v6zTAras4dTKgokrhO4ARFgxfvKdem_b/view?usp=sharing)
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Thank you, kind sir! :)
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Thank you!!!!
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A triumvirate to run the new Star League might be an interesting option, especially if one of the positions has to be a representative from the Periphery. Every nation gets a seat at the table with the three selected doing the day to day work as well as preparing options to vote on by the council's next meeting.
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A triumvirate to run the new Star League might be an interesting option, especially if one of the positions has to be a representative from the Periphery. Every nation gets a seat at the table with the three selected doing the day to day work as well as preparing options to vote on by the council's next meeting.
Trouble is, with one Periphery nation in the triumvirate, they´re still outnumber by the Inner Sphere powers, and they know that.
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Added House of Cards pdf to the link above.
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Thank you again, kind sir! :)
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Read the whole thing this week. Absolutely first class.
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The pdf for Stacking the Deck is now completed and can be found with the other links further up this page.
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Awesome, thanks again! :)
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Opalescent Reflections
Full House
Chapter 1
Hilton Head, North America
Terra, Sol System
14 June 3056
It was an inconvenient time for the usual council chamber to be undergoing maintenance, workers opening up the floor to update and make good the holographic projectors built into it. No official summons had been sent out, but recent events had drawn the senior precentors as if by magnetism and they had all arranged to attend this meeting of the First Circuit in person. The official membership sat around a U-shaped conference table in one of the less formal meeting halls. Department heads had also gathered and were seated along one wall.
Brushing back her long hair, Wei took her place at the podium. “Few people have doubted, since the sudden return of Kerensky’s descendants, that we live in momentous times,” she began.
Tiger Lily leant forwards from her own seat. “Rumour has it,” she interrupted, “That the Star League is being reformed.”
I was getting to that, Wei thought - irritated at the leader of the Terra-centric faction within the First Circuit. “Some would say it never went away,” she riposted, “Particularly those vying to be its ruler.” Something her predecessors were hardly innocent of, even if they had been more discreet in the matter than the five competing claims of the Successor Lords and their dynasties.
But it was clear the idea had traction among the First Circuit and she understood. The Star League had been a golden age for humanity, even if that meant as much glitter and weight as it did wealth and prosperity.
“The Star League Council has been reconvened,” Wei continued, “And membership - full membership - extended to the leaders attending it at Unity City - including those whose ancestors once held only territorial status among them. That is a long way from establishing it as a single government over the Inner Sphere, but there is at least agreement that any counter-offensive against the Clans will be under the banner of the Star League.”
“That will send some of them berserk,” warned Andrew Norris from his own seat across the U from Tiger Lily. He and other more militant precentors were sitting together, as near to Precentor Martial Anastasius Focht as they could given the one-eyed leader of the ComGuards was seated with the other department heads not at the table. “They make their own claim to be rightful heirs of the Star League.”
“I think if they volunteered to serve as the SLDF they might be accepted,” she said drily. “But that isn’t what you mean, is it?”
Norris shook his head in amusement. “Not even more moderate Clans,” he answered and glanced over at Precentor Tamar, who had been promoted to the First Circuit as the Precentor-Advocate dealing with interactions with Clan Wolf.
“I think it would be a hard sell for the Kerensky Khans,” the woman answered. “And I shudder to think how the Smoke Jaguars would respond.”
“Violently, Cordelia.” Precentor Alshain had been selected from the ComGuards on the basis that whoever spoke for ComStar’s interests in the Smoke Jaguar Occupation Zone would need to be unshaken by physical violence around them. Fortunately, none had been directed at him yet.
“Obviously,” Tiger Lily snapped. “How else do they respond to anything?”
She wasn’t wrong and Wei tipped her head to the older woman. “Absent that unlikely event, there will be no SLDF and there may not be a single military leader. The Council is debating an overall strategy and multinational task forces are to be formed to represent unity by the states of the Inner Sphere, but the current thinking is that each task force’s commander will answer to the Council and not to any commanding general.”
“Forgive me my poor grasp on military matters,” Joe Buckley interjected, “But my understanding is that unity of command is generally a good idea?” He glanced in the direction of the Precentor-Martial, who might have been a strong candidate: ComStar’s official position of neutrality and Focht’s victory over the Clans on Camlann would give him considerable credibility.
“Precentor New Avalon is correct,” Focht agreed. “However, that would be a political post… and ComStar’s participation is not a given.”
“But how can we stand aside from this?!” called out Shaffi, the Precentor of the Draconis Combine’s new capital on Irurzun. “We are the last remains of the Star League’s government! And the Clans are the enemies of all mankind!”
Including each other, Wei thought absently. It was such a lovely day, she’d have been tempted to meet outside but the humid heat might have been too much for older precentors in the heavy robes demanded by protocol. She didn’t want to have this conversation at all, why had she even fought to be formally elected in the first place?
“Our official policy has been neutrality,” she answered Shaffi, feeling a pang at the hypocrisy of the words when that neutrality had been bent by every Primus including herself. “And the decision would affect more than just the ComGuards, or those of us in this room. Going to war with the Clans means hundreds of our HPG stations will be behind enemy lines, many of them the center of large and heavily populated enclaves. Many will fall into the hands of the Clans, and since it is not believed that an offensive can drive the Clans entirely from the Inner Sphere at this time, we will be losing many of them for years or decades at the best.”
She leant slightly on the podium, feeling weighed down by the lives that were her responsibility. “What part ComStar plays in the next stage of the war is not an easy or simple decision. Nor is it one for me to make lightly or without your voices being heard. Whatever we decide, there will be costs.”
Norris nodded grimly. “But at the same time, Primus, we cannot allow those enclaves to be effective hostages.”
Tiger Lily steepled her hands before her. “I think it better that we fight the Clans as part of the Star League than stand aside from it. The alternative is irrelevance and we cannot afford that.”
“We have the largest fleet of warships in the Inner Sphere,” Buckley pointed out, though his tone suggested he was playing devil’s advocate rather than disagreeing. “Not to mention Terra.”
“We may not have the largest fleet for long,” Joe Murphy observed from his seat next to Norris. The two precentors had been raised to the First Circuit at the same time and struck up a friendship as well as a political alliance. “The Federated Commonwealth’s construction plans are impressive.”
“So I have warned,” Buckley agreed smugly.
Wei narrowed her eyes in anger at the man. She had opposed expanding the number of active warships back before the Clans had become a factor, and it seemed that the precentor was intent on reminding everyone rather than focusing on the issue at hand. “If we are to participate then disclosure of our military assets will be required,” she reminded him sharply.
That sunk in with many of those present. Officially ComStar had not shown the extent of even their active fleet, much less the dozens of mothballed vessels that might be brought back into service given time. And the habit of secrecy was well-entrenched.
“We have a difficult decision in front of us,” she admitted. “To remain neutral is still an option, but one that could leave us at the mercy of the victors. Or…” and she drew the word out, “We can take a stand. Does anyone here believe that we should side with the Clans?”
Even after Camlann, there might have been someone willing to consider that idea. There were more than twenty members of the First Circuit and someone might have been that out of touch with reality. But the Successor Lords had gathered in Unity City, and even those who had not met with them or their officials had been surrounded by Adepts and Acolytes whispering excitedly about the Star League.
“If we side with the Star League Council,” Tiger Lily asked, filling the silence that met Wei’s question, “What happens to ComStar? We are not in the same position as the Great Houses.”
Wei took a deep breath. “I do not know. We will have to decide that as well.”
She spread her hands, feeling the sleeves of her robe slip back from her wrists and expose more than half her forearms. “I open the matter to debate.”
Yamashiro, New Samarkand
Diamond Shark Dominion
5 July 3056
There was a certain oddity to seeing battlemechs wrapped in what amounted to industrial-scale cardboard boxes, it was certainly something that Ace had never thought to see when he was a boy. However, the ‘mechs had been shipped from the homeworlds on a freighter, not a military transport. They needed the packaging to secure the massive war machines inside the holds without the framework of a ‘mech bay. While it would have been satisfying to have his mechwarriors march them off the dropship, instead the ‘mechs had been unloaded into a warehouse and they still weren’t fully unpacked.
Even so, as Ace led a party of mechwarriors inside, he felt the familiar thrill of seeing the giant warmachines emerging from the packaging - like giant predators breaking free of their eggs. There were twenty of them, humanoid in form with sleek curves that weren’t entirely in line with the more familiar omnimechs or the Diamond Sharks’ aesthetics for their own designs.
“What are these?” Mechwarrior Sasha asked as he followed Ace into the warehouse, staring up at the towering battlemechs. His voice was lowered in reverence but also betrayed confusion.
“Battlemechs,” another young warrior answered, his own words sounding disenchanted. “Are we being punished, sir?”
Ace chuckled, darkly amused - but not surprised - by the question. “Neg. These are some of our newest ‘mechs, product of our… strategic alliance with Clan Steel Viper.” It still felt bizarre to work with the Clan of Brett Andrews, his old enemy. Then again, had Andrews been any worse than Ian Hawker? And Michel had been a Steel Viper once. For a moment, his mind went to the long journey Michel was on. Back to the homeworlds, in pursuit of a bloodname. Facing enemies there.
But he had a duty to the mechwarriors with him, who would hopefully rise to the same status as Michel within the Diamond Shark’s ranks and so Ace shook his head and drew his focus back to the here and now.
“Sir, this is a frontline galaxy… are we being dismissed from the Ivory Skate?” Thomas sounded horrified.
“I don’t understand,” Sasha said slowly. “Do not understand,” he corrected himself at a reproving look from his companion. Unlike Thomas, he was the product of an Inner Sphere sibko.
“I believe that the Galaxy Commander is about to explain,” another voice spoke up. Mechwarrior Shiro was the oldest of the twenty mechwarriors Ace had brought here, his hair white with age. It didn’t slow his sword or his skills in the cockpit though. “...quiaff?”
“Aff.” Ace turned his back on the ‘mechs to face his warriors. “We do not have enough Omnimechs for all our forces.” The shipment had always been intended to include the battlemechs, but as originally called for there would have been ten omnimechs as well. Other units, closer to the homeworlds than Epsilon Galaxy, had requisitioned them to make good losses from raids and rebellions. One here, one there and suddenly he was only receiving two-thirds of the shipment. At least he’d had some warning or he’d have looked a fool before his warriors.
“No Clan does, sir.”
He nodded at Thomas’ point. “Yes, but we have the largest second-line forces and they’re stretched thin backing up our garrisons. If we pull their omnimechs then they may not be able to do that.” Truthfully they couldn’t - detachments from the frontline forces were already needed to fill the gaps. “Ideally, we would build more omnimechs and that is the plan, but it takes time. As a result, the frontline galaxies will have to accept a proportion of battlemechs until production catches up.”
Sasha nodded in understanding. “I believe Thomas is asking if we are being singled out?” he asked, looking at the clanborn warrior.
“In a sense,” Ace admitted and saw their faces twist in alarm. “Not as you think,” he clarified hastily, raising one open hand to dismiss the fear. “More specifically, you have been hand-picked to join command stars. Myself and all three Star Colonels will have battlemechs assigned to our immediate commands. We picked those who will be fighting alongside us from the best and most promising of those joining Epsilon Galaxy.”
He used the upraised hand to indicate the ‘mechs around them. “Vapor Eagle mediums and Phoenix Hawk assault ‘mechs. Battlemechs, but the newest and most advanced production models of proven designs.”
“I piloted a Phoenix Hawk for the Dragon,” Shiro said softly, looking up at the towering mass of one of the assault ‘mechs. “But it was nothing like that.”
“New Samarkand is producing retooled Pixies that are much more like your old ‘mech, Shiro.” Ace gave him a wry look. “If you would rather have one of those...”
The old mechwarrior laughed grimly. “I have seen their teething problems, Galaxy Commander. With respect… no.”
There were chuckles. The Pixie rebuilds had exhibited some spectacular problems with the ammunition feeds for their machine guns until Ace had had enough of promises from the factory and ordered them to pull the weapons entirely and fit pulse lasers instead. It would be a while before that reputation was lived down.
More importantly, Shiro had broken the mood. Sasha took advantage of the informality to ask: “Will you be taking one of these, sir?” He indicated one of the Vapor Eagles.
“I was tempted,” Ace admitted and gave them a depreciating shrug. “But they have not quite managed to fit a pair of PPCs to one so I will struggle on with my Huntsman for now. Perhaps in the future.”
He didn’t dislike the Huntsman, but privately he thought the Stormcrow he’d used before had been a bit better. Alas, the Huntsman was both a gift and a Diamond Shark design. It would be a minor hit politically for him to requisition another Stormcrow without good reason, such as the Huntsman taking too much damage. And setting aside the risks of incurring that much damage, it would be a poor example to waste an omnimech when they were in short supply.
Most of the mechwarriors began to fan out, studying the ‘mechs and evidently weighing up whether to claim a Phoenix Hawk or a Vapor Eagle for themselves. A few still hesitant, with the almost unfairly handsome Thomas the most obvious - as he usually was.
For a moment, Ace wondered how to spur them on past their doubts. “Production of the Mongrel will be starting here in the next few years,” he told them before they could sense his uncertainty. “I assure you, frontline units will get first call on them once they start leaving the factory.”
Thomas shrugged. “That does not speak well for their quality, given the problems with the Pixie.”
“Between you and me,” Ace lowered his voice confidingly, “There were sabotage issues with the Pixie. The Watch allowed it because it let us seek out which of the workers there were security risks before the Mongrel lines were set up. We were testing the worker’s loyalties as much as we were their ability to manufacture our battlemechs. The workforce on the omnimech lines will be made up of those who passed this security test.”
The explanation offered enough reassurance that the other three mechwarriors left the little cluster. Only Thomas was left facing Ace, though the set of his shoulders had loosened. “May I ask another question? On another matter?”
Am I really so intimidating that he feels he needs permission? “I am not offended by questions, mechwarrior. Only by those who do not accept answers that are not to their liking.”
“There has been no news about the motion to return to the Clan’s former name, quiaff?”
Ace took a moment to parse the question before answering. “Officially, the matter has not been confirmed but at this point it will be put to the vote and the precedent makes it clear that the entire Clan will vote. The question of what constitutes the entire Clan is delaying the matter.”
Thomas frowned in thought. “Do you believe you will have your way and all the occupied worlds will vote? Most of them barely know what it is to be a Diamond Shark, much less a Sea Fox.”
“It is not entirely clear to most of us what distinction will be,” he replied, speaking crisply and hoping that Thomas took that for more confidence than Ace actually felt. “It is more than a name. I think that in the end the Clan Council will see it my way. If nothing else, it will take more than a year to make the arrangements for a vote on that scale, which is time for everyone to get their points of view out and form a coherent plan for what the result of each outcome will be.”
“So we may have omnimechs first,” Thomas observed wryly.
“Logistics and communication matter as much in politics as they do in warfare,” Ace told him, turning to look at the partially unwrapped battlemechs. We will need these ‘mechs. More than that, we need more time!
He had no facts to back that up, but every instinct screamed that the Diamond Sharks would be attacked before long. Being the largest and most powerful Clan made them the obvious target for everyone above and below the truceline. It was the way of the Clans and his time in the Inner Sphere was leading Ace to suspect that it was more of a general human condition than something specific to Clan culture.
I’ve survived everything so far, he thought. But even when my own Khan was trying to kill me… I could always see the threat. A shiver went through Ace. Now I see nothing but threats! How can we get through this?!
Fort Viking, Cadiz
Benjamin Military District, Draconis Combine
24 July 3056
The aerospace fighter that carved its way through the skies above Cadiz was nothing like Tyra Miraborg’s previous rides.
The Xerxes she’d used to escape Clan Smoke Jaguar had been a heavy brute, with most of its tonnage devoted to forward firepower. The young kapten was still amazed she’d managed to make it over the border and into ComStar territory before more agile aerospace fighters had brought her down.
It was odd to think that Clan technology had allowed the heavy bird a similar performance envelope to the Shilone she’d flown previously, although that had been a matter of brute force rather than the finesse of the long flying wing of her old bird. The Shilone didn’t lack firepower or armor by any sensible standards… but it was a Succession Wars design that had been left behind as lostech was recovered and the pressures of war forced its adoption.
At first Tyra had believed that her new fighter was a Corsair - a more than respectable fighter, if one that was fairly uncommon in Rasalhague service - and that was where its roots lay but as the technicians walked her through the ground checks to familiarize herself with it, she’d learned that it was something else under the skin.
A look at the clock told her before ground control could that her practise flight was coming to an end and the blonde pulled an immelman turn to bring the dart-like fighter’s nose around towards the military base that served as the rear-area base for what remained of the Kungsarme.
Then she opened the throttle and felt herself shoved backwards into her seat. A Corsair would have been around the same thrust to mass ratio as a Shilone or Xerxes, but the ‘Cor-Star’ as this upgrade was called, was at least thirty percent more powerful. She’d known the ComGuards’ discards that had ‘somehow’ wound up in Kungsarme service on Camlann were better than her Shilone but she’d not been around for the after-action reports to clarify that.
The weapons and armor were also better than she was used to. Not, as she had been warned, equal in every respect to their Clan counterparts… but close enough to shave away at their usual advantages.
And most importantly, the Cor-Star was hers. Not property of the Kungsarme or of any other service (she had feared all for years that the Kungsarme might have vanished along with the Free Rasalhague Republic only to find it still fighting on from exile), but a direct gift from ComStar’s Primus.
The older woman had looked saddened by the request for a fighter, but she’d already asked what Tyra wanted as a reward for bringing back the data on the Clan homeworlds and it was too late to take back. Not that she’d tried - the Cor-Star had been requisitioned the same day for delivery to Tyra - but Wei Rong’s eyes had reminded the pilot of her father’s.
Although… when had she seen Tor Miraborg look so melancholy? It must have been years ago, she thought. Before the mask of the ‘Iron Jarl’ became the norm.
The sight of the airfield coming into view was enough excuse for Tyra to set aside thoughts of her father, lost behind the curtain of the truceline… lost as well by his surrender without battle… and his choice to become a collaborator.
Forcing the matter from her mind, Tyra contacted ground control for instructions and then lowered the landing gear. While the CorStar could, like most aerospace fighters, manage a vertical takeoff or landing on its maneuvering thrusters that wasn’t really recommended unless necessary. Instead she was directed towards one of the runways and eased off on the throttle as she lined up and began to shed altitude cautiously, avoiding a dive that would have built up even more velocity.
Adjusting the flaps, she wasn’t far off stalling speed when she crossed the end of the runway and she cut the fusion thruster as soon as she felt the landing gear kiss the ferrocrete, switching power to the retrothrusters to bring the fighter’s speed down towards zero.
Ten minutes later, most of which she spent waiting for ground control to confirm taxiways were clear for her to use without smashing a supply truck or something into the grass with the blast of her maneuvering thrusters, Tyra was close enough to a hangar for a wagon to trundle out and take over towing the Cor-Star into the hangars.
There was a staff car waiting inside the hangar, off to the side where an armament truck would usually be parked if external loads were being fitted (or if Tyra had been flying something that carried munitions) - far enough that it wouldn’t be in danger of accidents if a scramble order had her leave the hangar under power.
Opening the cockpit before the Cor-Star had come fully to a halt, something prohibited by a regulation that no one actually followed in Tyra’s experience, she looked out and saw a familiar face waiting by the car. Tyra waved to him and then started removing her helmet.
Once the aerospace fighter was locked own and she’d exited the small cockpit with some help, Tyra walked towards the car. Christian Mansdottir came to meet her and ignored her attempt to salute, instead hugging her. “It’s good to see you, Tyra.”
She laughed. “You saw me on Terra, sir.”
“That was surreal enough. The shock that you’re alive still hasn’t worn off,” the man told her before releasing her from the embrace. He looked at her searchingly and as Tyra returned the examination she was reminded once again of the gray hairs that had conquered his mustache and were working towards the same domination of his scalp. She wasn’t the only one who had had a difficult five years since Camlann.
“You’re not here to socialize, are you?” she asked after a moment.
He shook his head in mute confession, visibly regret in his eyes. “I wish I had that luxury, Tyra.”
“Duty first.”
“Don’t let that take over your life,” Mansdottir told her. “Learn from my mistakes.”
“It’s never too late for you to find a good woman and settle down,” she offered. “I’m sure I can find someone for you.”
“I do not need you matchmaking for me, Tyra. Not that I would be much of a catch.” He shook one finger in reproval, a hint of amusement banishing the earlier sorrow.
Tyra stiffened suddenly as she realized where she had seen eyes like that before. She had been thinking of him, not her father when she compared the look to that on Wei Rong’s face.
Had she been away from Gunzburg so long she couldn’t remember her own father accurately?
Mansdottir caught her arm. “Tyra?”
“Just… a thought.”
“You’ve been flying,” he allowed. “Let’s get you something to eat and drink.”
“I’m fine,” she declined. “I’ll grab something later, but I need to get back in shape.”
“Part of that is eating enough,” she was warned. “Alright, if you want to be focused, I’m here to talk about your assignment.”
“I know I’m rusty to be in charge of a squadron.”
“We have time for you to work up.” Mansdottir waved that off. “You’re an experienced kapten, I’d be a fool to waste you with less than that. Honestly, if you’d not been captured I’m sure you’d have a wing by now. The question is where you want to be assigned.”
“I’m a Flying Drakon,” Tyra answered. She’d been with the Gunzburg Eagles first, of course, but there was no way she could claim to be part of that regiment while they were serving as a Clan Wolf garrison force. Nor would she want to!
He nodded. “And the Drakons have been acting as the aerospace wing of the 1st Tyr.” He didn’t mention that the Flying Drakons had once been a regiment that sported six entire wings, they both knew that. “But you may not have heard -”
“I know.”
That got a pause. “Let’s not assume we’re talking about the same thing. They’re providing a cadre to build up a separate aerowing for the 1st Tyr. There’s room there for you to build a new squadron. I’d love to have your experience there.”
Tyra smiled sadly. “Uncle Christian, I know what the Drakons will be doing.”
“That’s classified.”
“I know people.”
“Of course you do.” He sighed heavily and then, in a low voice: “Are you sure you want to go back to the Clan Homeworlds? If you’re here, you’ll be fighting to liberate our worlds.”
“That’s not certain,” Tyra told him, remembering the discussions on Terra. “I hope it happens, but we can’t count on that. The homeworlds mission is where I can contribute most. I’m the only officer who’s been there. If we’re hitting Huntress, my knowledge of it is our single best intelligence asset.”
“It could be a one way mission. There are entire Clans that we haven’t encountered yet, with their own fleets and armies. If those go at you…”
“That isn’t all that likely. I’ve been there, I’ve lived among the Clans and they’re not even as fond of each other as the Great Houses are.” Tyra threw her hands up. “It’s like seventeen House Kuritas all crammed together. None of them like or trust each other.”
Mandottir leant against his car. “And yet the Kuritas are working with the other Great Houses. It’s a surprise but it is happening.”
“It said it wasn’t all that likely, not that it was impossible.” She met his eyes. “It’s where I can do the most good.”
“Some would say you’ve done enough already.” Then he shrugged. “But I know you better. Still, if our people are to be free I need teachers and leaders for our next generation. You’re one of our best. Breaking off the Flying Drakons is the first step in trying to build us up past a single brigade of troops and I honestly think you’ll do us more good there.”
Tyra felt her face tighten. “Is that an order, sir?”
Mansdottir’s face fell and she felt a stab of guilt. “The government-in-exile is near enough unanimous that you should have whatever post you want. I could fight it, but disunity like that…”
“You don’t need to protect me. I can handle the Clans.”
“But can you handle yourself? Tyra, the first time your father was badly hurt I asked him to step back… like now. Instead he pressed on, and wound up in a wheelchair. He said I’d just been trying to protect him.” He looked away. “There was, and there is, some truth to that. But if he hadn’t been crippled, how much more could he have done with his life?”
Tyra reached out, hesitated and then put one hand on his shoulder. “I’m sorry. I know you mean well - personally and professionally. But it’s not like that. The Clans won’t stop unless we can show them we can hit them back, at home. If we free our worlds, what does it matter if they just come back a year later? This mission matters and with my experience, I really am in a unique position to make a difference.”
The general looked back at her and reached up to cover her hand with his own. “Alright Tyra. But promise me you’ll come back. You’ve more to offer to the future than just one mission.”
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Welcome back!
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Yaaaay it is back. :cheesy:
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Mission to the Homeworlds will be a go, along with counteroffensive in the Inner Sphere and it is quite likely it will coincide with Jaguars and Zeerga kicking off fun times on both sides.
So get your popcorn ready, really interesting times brought to us by drakensis, so we know it's gonna be good.
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The integer starts up again!
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So glad to see another installment! :)
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Opalescent Reflections
Full House
Chapter 2
Camora, Twycross
Clan Jade Falcon Occupation Zone
11 August 3056
The holo display sprang to life precisely on time and it was as if the two Khans of Clan Snow Raven were seated across the circular table from Aidan Pryde. It was possible, even probable that they weren’t even in the same star system as each other, but he couldn’t tell - there was no clue from the details such as their lighting to suggest evidence one way or another.
No surprise really, the Snow Ravens were notoriously politically astute. They wouldn’t give up any advantage if they didn’t have to.
“Khan McKenna,” Aidan said with a bow of his head. Then he turned incrementally and greeted the other junior Khan: “Khan Cooper.”
The ivory-haired Lynn McKenna’s eyes flicked left and right. “We are not to be graced by Elias, quineg?” she inquired.
“Our administration of the occupied worlds has yet to catch up with the scale demanded,” he answered with what he hoped was smoothness. “Khan Crichell has delegated me all authority to speak for our Clan on this matter.”
“A considerable degree of trust,” the Khan said with scorn.
Aidan continued to smile welcomingly. “Well, he did make me promise not to give up Ironhold.”
There was a slight snort from Bryn Cooper and Aidan wondered if the other saKhan was remembering similar slights or assumed slights from his senior. The man hadn’t been McKenna’s first choice as junior Khan and it wasn’t clear if he’d hold the position if Klaus Harper hadn’t declined nomination in favor of retaining his current post as Loremaster. Crichell had actually provided a dossier on the Snow Raven leadership and Aidan wondered if he was being graded on how he used the information.
“I would have hoped that Elias would have weighed our concerns slightly higher,” noted McKenna. “However, it gives us a chance to take your measure, Khan Pryde. Your rise has been impressive.”
“That could be said of any Khan. Few warriors rise to our rank,” he said dismissively.
“Aff, but even fewer do so after their own Clan judged them unfit to be warriors in their Trial of Position.”
Aidan hid a grimace. What was she trying to… oh, if he said the Jade Falcon’s internal workings were not a concern it would put him at a disadvantage over the cause of this meeting. “The precedent for a second trial of position is little used in my own Clan,” he admitted instead. “Still, a Trial of Refusal was fought and won.”
McKenna nodded grudgingly. “One cannot reasonably argue with that.” Then she glared at him. “We can, however, argue over your interference in our internal affairs.”
“If you wish,” Aidan agreed genially.
This didn’t seem to be what they expected and Cooper gave him a suspicious look. “You have been briefed on this matter, quiaff?”
“Aff,” he confirmed and steepled his fingers. “This is about the request that Nerran McKenna be sent back to the homeworlds, quiaff?”
“Aff,” Cooper agreed. “The election of a bloodhouse leader is serious business, Khan Pryde.”
Aidan nodded. “There are a few details that I am a little uncertain about. Perhaps you could clarify them for me, Khan Cooper?”
Once the other man nodded, Aidan continued: “It seems to me that requesting that one of our serving officers be reassigned for sixteen months would be interfering in our internal affairs. Unless,” he held up his hand before Cooper could speak up, “Either your Clan has some means of traveling back to the homeworlds in some more convenient timeframe or the message has at some point been misconstrued and it was a request for realtime HPG communication back to Lum, something that would be far more practical.”
McKenna’s face twisted. “You are trying to tell me that a member of my own bloodhouse is to be made unavailable for his bloodhouse’s affairs at the whim of Clan Jade Falcon, quineg?”
He hid a chuckle, remembering how Horse had dealt with a similarly provocative challenge. “I was asking Khan Cooper some questions,” he told her. “I imagine that Star Captain McKenna would be upset about being sent back to the homeworlds right as the Inner Sphere starts using warships and he at last has a chance at that level of glory.”
Cooper nodded without thinking and Aidan saw McKenna frown. The Snow Raven saKhan was commanding a naval star of warships that had been contracted to support Clan Jade Falcon. If they withdrew now then it would remove some of their ability to withstand future attacks by FCS Invincible… and also deny Cooper the chance of honorable combat against the battlecruiser.
“It is possible that the message was corrupted somehow,” the junior Snow Raven offered. “It was communicated via ComStar after all and I do not consider them entirely reliable.”
Both men looked at McKenna, who gave her saKhan a sour look.
Aidan spread his hands slightly. “If you do have a means to transport Nerran McKenna to the homeworlds swiftly, that would be immensely valuable for our logistics. I imagine all the Clans would bid enthusiastically for the technology.”
“Given your military circumstances,” she replied with as much grace as she could muster, “It would have been unreasonable to dispatch Nerran to Lum immediately. If you were not denying him contact with the rest of our bloodhouse then this matter is a regrettable miscommunication.”
“Something that would be best avoided in the future,” Aidan agreed mildly. “Khan Cooper, I believe that your Stars of warships will be best deployed along the frontlines in the future rather than covering our supply lines. As such, it would only be appropriate for you to participate in our strategic councils, which would let us avoid such mistakes in the future. I can assure you, Khan McKenna, that we have no objection whatsoever to any of our warriors using the HPG channels to communicate with the homeworlds.”
The Snow Raven Khan gave Aidan a suspicious look. “I will leave you to discuss this further, Bryn. You are the commander on the scene.” She reached out and tapped a control, vanishing from the room as she cut her signal.
Cooper gave her empty seat a thoughtful look and then turned back to Aidan. “Where were you hoping to deploy our warships?”
Time to cater to his ego, Aidan thought. He had had some practice with this, soliciting votes for his election to saKhan. “I would appreciate your advice,” he told them. “There is a truce but we can hardly count on the Inner Sphere to keep their word. My first thought is that they will try to push us back from the worlds around Tharkad, but how to best use your warships to defend against that is outside of my experience…”
Fortress Dieron, Dieron
Dieron Military District, Draconis Combine
19 August 3056
Fortress Dieron had once been a major SLDF base, not quite a Castle Brian for technical distinctions that Minoru Kurita could not call to mind offhand. Possibly it just wasn’t large enough, ‘merely’ accommodating four or five regiments of soldiers.
Although most of the base was buried under Mount Shanyu, it had exits on several levels and one of them opened onto a pleasant little garden wedged between two outcrops of the mountain’s heights. Here, screened by the wind, the Coordinator of the Draconis Combine and the Warlord of Dieron sat across from each other and were served tea.
Their conversation as the tea pot was washed, heated, filled and eventually poured out with exquisite grace by a servant who had made the ceremony of this process his life’s work had been polite and touched on such important topics as poetry, flowers and the results of a kenjutsu tournament which Minoru had arrived just a little too late to attend, although the winner would have the honor of being presented to him the next day.
“Your name has been brought up before me by ministers and bureaucrats outside the Ministry of War,” Minoru observed gently, once the servant had departed.
Almost old enough to be his grandfather, Sorenson swallowed his tea smoothly. “Perhaps they are complimenting my efficiency, Lord Kurita?” he suggested after his throat was clear.
“Your efficiency has not been criticized in my hearing.”
“Ah,” the warlord replied with a nod. “Wealth and Wellbeing want my hands off their business?”
The Ministry of Wealth and the Disbursing of Assets and the Ministry of the Well-Being of the Land and the Peoples - usually rendered more succinctly as the Treasury and the Ministry of the Interior - were two of the five ministries that made up the government of the Draconis Combine. The Ministry of War had always been the most powerful as they could subordinate all other concerns to the needs of the military, but that wasn’t to say they could ignore the rest of the government entirely.
“Those ministers, but officials of the others.” Minoru placed his cup down on the table without any audible sound. “How might you have offended them?”
The warlord met his eyes and then lowered his own tea cup. “The loss of Luthien,” he said quietly, “and then of New Samarkand has left the district and prefectural offices of the ministries without direction as court was out of contact at times. In addition, district officials have been called on to serve at court.”
The young ruler watched and listened, saying nothing. Silence invited others to fill it, often revealing more than was intended.
He saw Sorenson smile slightly, perhaps seeing through the ploy. “The result has been increased responsibility placed upon prefectural offices. Some responded by doing nothing without instruction, paralyzing the bureaucracy. Others rose to the occasion and took initiative.”
That matched Minoru’s understanding from the reports he’d received. Allowing for interpretation, of course. “And you became involved,” he observed, not making it a question.
“When it impacted upon military readiness,” the older man agreed. “I approve of initiative.” His lips quirked. “Sometimes that has been a problem in my career.” Such as leaving him in command of a company for decades, passed over for promotion repeatedly.
Minoru lifted his cup and deliberately sipped once more. Only when he placed it back on the table, eyes now looking out over the mountains, did he hear Sorenson continue.
“I do not claim to understand all of the details of the other ministries, but I understand results - and that paralysis is as deadly in government as it is in war. Officials who were allowing their duties to go undone for lack of direction were dismissed in various fashions - sometimes sent to serve at court where they would have the supervision they needed, sometimes demoted…” Sorenson made a sweeping gesture with his free hand. “I made it clear that in the absence of instructions from above, the prefectural officials must accept responsibility.”
Minoru finished his cup of tea and set it aside, rising to his feet. Walking out on the patio until he could feel the wind ruffle his hair, he looked out across the vista of Dieron, grand and often inhospitable up here in its mountains. One of Terra’s first colonies, but never one of its most welcoming. Most cities clung to the valleys or the coast of the one sea, not here. “And the results?”
“Efficiency,” the warlord told him. “Costs are down, productivity is up. Supplies for the military flow smoothly, and to the extent I have seen them, my understanding is that trade and judicial matters are in a better state than they were before the Clans came. Certainly tax revenue is up. It worked.” His tone slipped slightly towards the end, emphasizing the last word.
It had. That was perhaps what offended the ministries the most.
“You have never encouraged the officials to ignore the dictates of their superiors.” Minoru stated it as a fact. The ISF had been watching for that, which would have spoken of rebellion.
Sorenson moved to stand at his side, perhaps a half-step behind. Close enough that he could push and -
Well, it wasn’t so steep that Minoru would call it a fall. A tumble, and one that he might not survive because the stone would be hard and unforgiving. Mentally he rehearsed how to counter such an attack, both to send Sorenson over the end and how to avoid that.
“I have served House Kurita all my life,” the old man murmured. “I will continue to serve, even if it must be in my death.”
Minrou considered inviting the man to take two steps forwards into the void and rejected the notion almost immediately. The temptation was to exercise his power, not to use it productively. There would be repercussions, not least the loss of an able officer. “Counsel me,” he said instead.
“There may be repercussions for those who have followed my example in the district,” Sorenson conceded. “Now that your capital is secure on Irurzun, the ministers wish to have the same degree of control they once had and to punish those who exceeded their instructions.”
“Instructions or authority?”
“Their authority is vested in their responsibilities.”
Minoru shook his head. “That can be used as an excuse for much. If this is merely an extraordinary situation and extraordinary measures were needed and can now be set aside, then official repercussions may be avoided.”
Sorenson rocked back and forth slightly on the balls of his feet. “And, were it not an extraordinary measure? There have been benefits to the arrangements made. Is the Combine in a position where we can afford to pass up any advantage.”
The Coordinator exhaled, hearing his breath over the wind. “This conversation deserves more tea.”
Sorenson stepped back deferentially and followed Minoru back to the table, raising a small bell that summoned the servant again.
The man kindled the fire beneath the kettle and produced fresh cups for them, preparing the tea with no less grace than he had shown previously. As he departed again, Minoru lifted the cup and sniffed gently at the aroma. “Let us speak of hypotheticals, setting aside any protests of the district governor and the ministries. What would you wish to do?”
Sorenson sighed. “Dieron has always been… fractious. Worlds that look back to the days of the Terran Hegemony. Worlds settled by the Arkab. And, of course, worlds raided and fought over more often than any others within the Combine. But there is power here, if we can harness it.”
“Such a harness is the work of the ministries,” Minoru observed. But he was thinking of the numbers brought to him by the ISF. The hard numbers of productivity, dissidence and other factors. By those merits, Sorenson had been doing a good job - not just as a soldier but also in steering the district. His civilian counterpart had floundered, promoted above his ability when the original was called to Irurzun to take up a new post. Sorenson, raised from low rank, had excelled.
“They do not harness it,” the warlord said flatly. “They crush it. They fear it. But to a warrior, that seems wrong. One should respect power, but never fear it.”
The coordinator nodded. “Your plan?”
“Currently the prefectures struggle with regulations that are being standardized across worlds with different needs. I would redraw the boundaries to form just three prefectures: one built around the Azami worlds, one around former Hegemony core worlds here and another closer covering the rest of the border, named for Vega.”
“Vega?”
“Yes.” Sorenson squared his shoulders. “Base the Arkab Legions out of the Azami worlds, and the Legion of Vega out of the other prefecture. Use them as rallying points for recruitment and training.”
Minoru lifted his cup and drained it slowly, not lowering it until drunk it all the way to the dregs. “You may be familiar with another state that ties troops to provinces.”
Sorenson looked as if he was tempted to laugh in chagrin. “The Free Worlds League assuredly takes the matter too far, but it must be remembered that they are wealthy and currently successful. Thomas Marik is raising regiments steadily to expand his military. Strong, capable prefectural governments may let us build up those two brigades to or beyond their previous strength.”
“And if they prove faithless?” he asked.
“Then there are the Dieron Regulars,” Sorenson said flatly. “And a warlord would have much to make up for.”
Stronger prefectures would draw power away from the district government and also from court. Minoru could already imagine how the ministers would respond. It might also draw power away from him, which would be destabilizing. History was full of examples of rulers who loosened their control slightly only to see their realm tear free of them. His grandfather had always been very careful in rolling back previous Coordinator’s excessive measures to never lower his guard.
And yet… could he give up the chance for more supplies and soldiers to fight the Clans? What did a rebellion among the Arkab matter if he wound up unable to hold Dieron in the first place? The Star League’s planned offensives would shatter the truceline so if they failed, the Sharks, Bears and Jaguars would carve their way through Dieron District and all the way to Terra.
“I do not think I should apply such principles outside of Dieron,” he said slowly. “Nor to adopt it here without more thought. But,” he held up his hand. “I do not wish to deter those who showed initiative when we needed it.”
Dali, Tamar
Clan Wolf Occupation Zone
2 October 3056
BANG! The punching bag swung away from Ulric Kerensky, propelled by his right fist.
BANG! His left lashed out, catching it on the backswing and pushing it away again.
BANG! Right fist again.
The Khan of Clan Wolf was sweating as he worked the bag, venting the frustrations that had harried him for a year now.
If he imagined the faces of Marialle Radick and Vladimir Ward on the bag, that was something that just made him strike harder, shifting his feet to brace each blow. He’d made a rod for his own back by breaking the Zeerga off, and at times he was beginning to think it would have been better to abjure them entirely.
Of course that would have required a vote, which might have been lost.
BANG!
This time the bag didn’t swing back towards him, caught in two familiar hands. “Did the bag do something to offend you, my Khan?”
Ulric’s chest heaved as he glared at the new arrival in the gym. “Erik,” he greeted his loremaster once his breathing steadier.
His sibkin gestured towards a bench alongside the small gym. “The bag wasn’t giving up but I think your gloves might be about to. When did you last replace them?”
The khan frowned. “A month ago, perhaps?”
“Hmm. You have been giving them a workout, I suppose.”
“Unfortunately, Radick and Ward are not here to take the beating.” Ulric studied the gloves and saw the surface was cracking already. He should have noticed sooner but his mind had been on other things when he entered the gym.
Erik shook his head. “What have they done now? More of the same?”
“The same,” he growled. “Challenging for anything that is not nailed down, and hiding behind our warriors whenever there is an attempt at retaliation.”
“Quite the turn of phrase. Something you learned from Phelan?”
“Natasha.”
Erik helped him peel off the gloves and then passed him a bottled sports drink, rich in electrolytes (if not taste). “She can be eloquent at times, I have found.”
Ulric growled again and slumped onto the bench. “I should have killed them.”
“I am not quite sure we could have pulled that off.” Erik patted him on the shoulder as he cracked the lid on the bottle. “But on the bright side: the pact to defend them does not last forever. A few months and they will be standing on their own. A few months after that…”
The khan took a long drink from the bottle and swallowed it. “A few months after that…?”
His sibkin shook his head, sweat-damp hair marking that he have also been exercising. “There is a pool on how long the Zeerga will survive without our protection. I am wagering on nine weeks.”
“What are the odds of them surviving?” Ulric asked him.
“Enough that Evantha - the young Fetladral?”
Ulric nodded to confirm he knew her, then drank again from the bottle.
“If they last a year, she will be rich in favors and the respect of her peers.”
“Perhaps I should make her the khan then,” Ulric grumbled. “All I am doing is bleeding away warriors, equipment and favors for ingrate idiots.”
Erik opened a bag and pulled out a towel, rubbing his hair. “She was told it was a… sucker bet was Phelan’s phrase. But as she said, she loses very little if she is wrong and can win much. And she does know Vlad Ward better than I do.”
Swallowing the last of the sports drink, Ulric took a deep breath and felt the ache of his workout for the first time. He threw the bottle towards the garbage can and was pleased to see it bounce off the rim and drop neatly into the interior. “More than I do. He was always one of Conal’s favorites. So what brings you here? Besides rescuing that weight bag from me?”
“You sent for me, not the other way around. About the civilians, I assume?”
“Ah.” It had escaped his mind for a moment. “No, but since you mention it, how is that going?”
Bringing in civilians from the Clan homeworlds had been Erik’s personal project, creating enclaves across the occupation zone that would live under Clan law and custom, an example to those they had conquered.
“There is friction,” his sibkin admitted. “I’d envisaged starting afresh but Phelan was right that taking over settlements ravaged by infighting among the locals would save us a fortune in construction, and it is no worse than taking over another Clan’s territory really.”
Ulric nodded. “The boy is clever. Removing the leaders of those enclaves serves as a warning to their peers that we have limited patience with their squabbling. And those that they ravaged are eager for peace and order. So long as we provide that, they will be open to our ways.”
“Twenty thousand have settled in so far and we have four times as many on their way. Enough that some of the enclave leaders back in the homeworlds are complaining about it. The absence was not planned for,” Erik pointed out. “And many of them are young and might have been relied on for decades if they had not volunteered for this.”
“I will speak to them,” Ulric allowed. “We may have to consolidate our territory anyway, so moving workers before that happens could offset the impact.” Tens of thousand workers was not as bad as it seemed, spread across the full extent of Clan Wolf’s holdings back in the homeworlds, but it was exacerbating the problems caused by losing the large and wealthy enclaves on Eden. “We will need their support with the project I want to talk to you about.”
“And what would that be? Rasalhague?”
He shook his head and then leant back against the coolness of the wall behind him. “That is Natasha’s problem and she is waiting for the cached equipment we need for the garrison clusters.”
“It is in the same convoys as my workers and their families,” Erik said. “We would not have them that fast if we were not pulling warships out of mothballs. Founder help us if anyone attacks those ships.”
Now there was a dreadful possibility. All that was being done with the warships was to restore life support, augmented for thousands of passengers, and ensure the jump drives were fit for action. It would be months of work on each of the vessels to make them fit for battle. And crewing them would be quite the problem as well.
“That does relate to what I wanted to talk to you about,” Ulric admitted. “There is a shipyard at Star’s End, or something approaching one at any rate. With the prospect of Inner Sphere warships I think we need to try to get that to a state that it can maintain our fleet. Expand it if possible.”
“Ulric, I saw that yard. I do not think it is fit for more than jumpships. It might be able to service the hulks carrying our people here as far as their current capabilities go, but I would not wager on even that much.”
“Then we need to correct that,” he told his sibkin uncompromisingly. “Find out what workers and tooling is needed and get that in the next convoy. The Inner Sphere is talking about mass producing corvettes - nothing that can stand up to our warships but they would be a nightmare to handle with less. That means we need numbers: restoring our mothballed ships to full function and building more.”
“Are you thinking Fredasas?” The smallest warships used by any Clan, the tiny corvettes were little more than patrol boats but they were also small enough that a jumpship yard might be able to construct them without building entirely new assembly yards.
Ulric reached blindly for his own bag, unzipping it to get at the towel inside. “Unless you have another idea. I do not believe we can afford to wait to develop a new design.”
“Giving the Zeerga five of our warships was unfortunate timing then.”
“I know, but since we could not kill them I had to give them something.” Three of the warships given up had borne the names of Clan Wolf’s ilKhans (no other Clan could boast as many), which might have served as a mark of solidarity if the new Clan hadn’t made it so blindingly obvious that they had no respect at all for their former brethren.
Erik made a disapproving noise as Ulric started drying his face and hair. “If you are running in circles second-guessing yourself then punching a bag is not going to get you anywhere.”
“You have a better idea, quiaff?”
He saw his sibkin turn the question over in his head for a moment before the man nodded. “Aff. Do you have anything scheduled for the rest of the day?”
Ulric picked his comm-unit out of his bag. “I am meeting Jared Ch’in about training more bondsmen for our garrison clusters. We are reaching the limits of -”
Erik cut him off with a sharp gesture. “Delegate it to ‘Tasha. You know he will just fill your ears with complaints about how hard it is to be training warriors rather than leading them into battle. If he has to try to convince her of that, he may think twice about bothering you in future.”
“I think he is more concerned about the lack of reserve in our caches. We are really bringing out the dregs now for garrison work.” Ulric shook his head again. “Aff, aff. I will not belabor the point. What do you suggest we do instead?”
“What we will do,” Erik said grandly, “is dress in clothes that do not give away our status as Clansmen and go to a bar where the staff and guests will pretend to ignore our accents so that they can overcharge us for alcohol.”
“That is your master plan for raising my spirits?”
“It always worked in Katyusha!”
That was inarguably true and Ulric wasn’t going to try to defend the indefensible. “Alright, but we both need a shower first.”
“That goes without saying!” Erik told him, pretending to sniff disgustedly at the sweat-stained Khan of Clan Wolf.
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Interesting developments! :)
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Very interesting developments, especially how the Khans trying to managing occupation zones and handling war efforts.
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great update!!
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Opalescent Reflections
Full House
Chapter 3
Sigulda Plains, Incukalns
Clan Nova Cat Occupation Zone
22 November 3056
The dropship’s hatch swung open, revealing a ramp down from the ‘mech bay deck down to the soil of Incukalns, still smoking from where grass had been burned away by the fusion torch of the Union. Victor marched his Warhammer down the ramp, checking the tactical display as red icons marking the Nova Cats sprang to life on it.
They were too far out for it to be his own sensors picking them up, which meant that the Clan warriors weren’t close enough to engage the landing site. It must be the more powerful sensor suites of the task force’s dropships or aerospace fighters above that were picking up the 449th Assault Cluster.
“So far so good,” Adam Steiner observed on the command channel. The Marshal of the Twelfth Donegal Guards hadn’t been aboard the same dropship. They had come down with an aerospace escort but there was still a risk that the Nova Cats would attack.
“I wouldn’t have been surprised if they’d refused us safe conduct to land,” Victor replied, glancing off to where his distant cousin’s Nightsky was joining up with his command group. “But once they agreed to safcon it would be a major loss of face for them to break that.”
Adam’s voice was gruff. “Not to mention that it would free us to use the Inflexible.” The attack force had been escorted to Incukalns’ orbit by the corvette - which might be small by warship standards but was reassuringly sizeable in comparison to the dropships.
“I’d just as soon we don’t escalate to that sooner than we need to.” As harsh as it was to say it, with so few warships available right now, the corvette might have more strategic value than the entire planet.
Any further conversation was cut off by a warning of “Nova Cat movement!” from one of the hovercraft that had set out to create a perimeter around the landing zone.
Victor wasn’t the only one who snapped his attention to the direction of the enemy but after a moment it became clear that most of the Nova Cat force was still holding back - the aerospace forces circling lazily above them, mechs and elementals hunkered down around the highway that linked the high plains to the lower coastal regions. Only a single Star was advancing towards the dropzone.
“Are they trying to contact us?” Victor asked.
“Not yet,” the commtech aboard Adam’s command ship said - the HQ vans had yet to disembark, since they could do their work perfectly well from aboard and it would save time if they had to withdraw hastily. “Wait, no - there’s a request from Star Colonel Thaddeus Nostra to speak to Marshal Adam of House Steiner and Kommandant-General Victor of House Steiner.”
“Well that’s almost my name, and the Star Colonel did get our ranks right,” he said wryly. “Sir.”
His cousin was silent for a moment. “Both command lances. We’ll meet them in kind, but with eight to five we should be alright if this turns into a fight. Comms, tell the Star Colonel we’ll meet him three klicks out from our dropships, at the edge of our perimeter.”
Victor signaled for his lance to fall in and they converged with Adam’s before the eight ‘mechs turned to march towards the oncoming Nova Cats. There was a mismatch between the two lances - Victor’s was made up of heavyweight designs that worked well with his Warhammer while Adam had assigned ‘mechs able to keep pace with his agile Nightsky.
The Nova Cats seemed to skew somewhat closer to Victor’s lance - he recognised a pair of Mad Dogs in the command star, but they flanked a Warhawk, an Executioner and a Kingfisher - all assault ‘mechs. Of course, the Cluster’s designation did suggest that they skewed towards heavier ‘mechs.
The Warhawk took the lead and came to a halt half a kilometer ahead of the mark. “Marshal Adam, Kommandant-General Victor,” a voice boomed from the ‘mech’s loudspeakers. “I am Star Colonel Thaddeus Nostra and I have granted you safcon to land on Incukalns. It is now for you to offer challenge.”
Victor had rehearsed this with Adam, drawing on interviews with captured Clan warriors. Neither had been entirely sure that this would become necessary but both agreed that it was better to be prepared, and their sources said that the Clans were not minimalists when it came to chewing on the scenery in a challenge.
The Marshal rose to the occasion. “I am Adam Steiner and the blood of Archons flows through my veins. I lead the Twelfth Donegal Guards, who fought the Jade Falcons without surcease upon Trellwan without thought of surrender or defeat, who returned from the grave to defeat them again on Coventry. We have come here to take Incukalns back under the fist and sunburst of the Federated Commonwealth.” His Nightsky raised its hatchet high. “Who dares to stand in our path?!”
“The deeds of the Twelfth Donegal Guards indeed stand tall, though I will not claim that they overshadow the history of the 449th Assault Cluster,” Nostra answered, spreading the arms of his Warhawk wide. “Nor is your name unknown to us, though if you think we are as easy prey as the Jade Falcons then our claws will not relinquish Incukalns to you. I will lead the defense in person, and I have bid three trinaries of my finest mechwarriors for this trial.”
Victor exhaled. That was ambitious - they didn’t have the entire Twelfth Guards here, just the ‘mech regiment and a mixed brigade of armor, infantry and supporting arms. Seven years ago the idea of someone withholding part of their force would have smacked of arrogance… but that was before the Clans swept across almost a third of the Inner Sphere. It might seem mad, but it clearly worked.
“A brave bid,” Adam answered. “I shall allow my subordinate officers to bid for their right to crush you.” That was what a Clan would do but it was just an excuse for Adam, Victor and the staff to adjust their plan.
“Forty-five of their omnimechs against all of us? We could use everything and crush them easily,” Leon Bradford recommended. The commander of Adam’s first ‘mech battalion was generally an advocate of using as much force as possible to end a battle swiftly.
The RCT’s operations officer cleared his throat. “That may not be the best move,” he said from where his Centurion was covering Adam’s flank. “We’ve played by Clan rules so far. If we break them, they may not feel bound and you know how deadly that can be.”
“We can’t base our strategy on hoping the enemy holds back. Besides, they might think we’re honoring their furry little heads by bringing a full brigade against that few of them!”
“Might,” Victor cut in. “We can’t base things off that either. ‘Doc’s got a point - they’re sticking to their rules and while the Nova Cat’s aren’t the Jade Falcons, we know they take their customs seriously. We have a simple mission here, we shouldn’t complicate it by insulting them if we don’t need to.”
“What do you suggest, Trevana?” asked Adam. “Combined arms is our strength - I’d rather give up numbers than lose our air cover and artillery.”
“According you our last intel they have five trinaries in their cluster,” Caradoc ‘Doc’ Trevana mused. “They’re offering to fight with fifty or sixty percent of their forces, that suggests we shouldn’t take that much more by proportion. Maybe seventy percent.”
“It’s crazy,” Bradford grumbled. “‘Doc, I get what you’re saying but leaving a third of our forces sidelined is going to leave us with casualties we could avoid.”
“More of a reserve,” Angie Graves corrected. “I’d say hold back my infantry -” Colonel Graves led the infantry regiment brought for this operation. “- and the aerospace. We may need the air cover later, if they’re buying time for one of their warships to get here.”
That was a valid concern, but Victor was fairly sure the Nova Cats wouldn’t even bother with bidding if that was their plan. Very few Clans did - you were either an honorable foe to be dealt with under their honor code or you were not, with no middle ground. Since Nostra was treating them with honor, by his… by his own code.
“Victor?”
He realized he must have said something, because the conversation had cut short. “He’s testing us.”
“What do you mean?” Adam asked.
“We came here using their rules. Nostra is trying to find out if we’ll keep doing that.”
“Right up until it’s to our advantage not to,” said Graves cynically.
“No, he’s right.” Trevana’s Centurion shifted slightly, reflecting the officer’s reaction. “And it’s not just that we’re using their rules, we’re doing so wearing the Cameron Star!”
Victor’s gaze flickered to the markings added to all of their ‘mechs. Every unit along the entire border with the Clans, both AFFC and DCMS, had been ordered to add that emblem to their heraldry in preparation for the counter-offensive. “It’s almost sacred to them. If we honor that, by treating it with what they see as respect… that’s huge.”
“I don’t most of the Clans will see it that way,” Trevana admitted.
Adam’s Nightsky turned slightly. “If it means even one Clan breaks ranks and starts engaging with us directly then it could be huge. But it doesn’t solve our immediate issue. What do we take against them.”
Victor looked at the five Nova Cat ‘mechs. “We don’t match their numbers,” he decided. “That would be throwing this away. Try… seventy-five ‘mechs. That’s symbolic, five of us for every three of them.”
“Cutting it fine,” Adam warned. “Ninety, two to one? You mean to just use ‘mechs?”
“Mechs and Clan rules of engagement, sort of,” Victor told him and then outlined what he had in mind as a tactic.
There was a hiss from Bradford. “That could leave a lot of our mechwarriors in their hands even if we win, your highness.”
“Not if we use their rules correctly,” Trevana disagreed. “We’ll have to win though. And seventy five is about right, Marshal. If we use ninety then we’re clearly using a higher proportion of our forces than they are. That’s the wrong message.”
“The only message I want to send them is a bullet with their name on.” Bradford grumbled. “Nondi Steiner will have our asses for this if it doesn’t work.”
“Then we’ll have to make it work,” Adam decided. “Can your battalion pull this off, Leon?”
“Who do you think we are, the Regulars? We can do this, however dumb an idea it is. You’d just better be right.”
“First and Third then,” Adam decided. “I want an intact battalion in reserve so three more out of the command lances.”
“It’s my idea, Adam,” Victor told him.
“...well, since your great-aunt will be sharpening an axe for me anyway…” the Marshal allowed. “And your Warhammer is more the weight we want to use anyway.”
“I’ll go too, sir,” offered ‘Doc. “Put my money where my mouth is.”
While Adam relayed the bid to the Nova Cats and negotiated the field of battle - ‘Circle of Equals’ in Clan parlance - there was a quick argument among Victor’s lance over who would be fighting alongside him. He wasn’t consulted on the matter and they all let their let their Skye accents slip out with increasingly loud reasons to be the one going, until suddenly agreement was reached and all animosity vanished. Victor wasn’t sure why the three had declined to join the Seventeenth Skye Rangers when it was reformed, but he was rather glad they had chosen to stick with him.
“So why did you get to come with me?” he asked Matti, as she chivvied Caradoc into positioning his Centurion next to her Thunderbolt.
“A Rifleman isn’t built for this sort of brawl,” she told him, “Juni’ was only offering for the form of it. An’ I told Rudi it’d be ungentlemanly to expect me to face Nondi Steiner if’n you don’t make it through this.”
“Well, I’ll try not to put you through that.”
“Oh, if we survive she’ll make us all regret it,” the woman said briskly. “No helping it.”
“I’d say they’re not always like this but I’d be lying,” Victor said to Caradoc. The Nova Cat’s bid forces were moving towards them now. Adam had agreed to fight on the plains, a rough circle being marked out with beacons provided by the Nova Cats. Any ‘mech leaving the line would be deemed defeated - although with more than a hundred ‘mechs inside the circle, it had to be large enough that a mechwarrior would be hard-pressed to leave by accident.
“My condolences, sir,” he said tightly as the ‘mechs on both sides crossed into the circle, forming rough lines facing each other although kilometers still divided them.
Victor tilted his head slightly at the time. “Are you alright?”
“First battle nerves. I wasn’t on Coventry.”
“...could you not have told us when there was still time to bring Rudi?” Matti asked plaintively…
And then a lone Nova Cat ‘mech outside the circle raised its arm and fired a PPC across the sky. The flare of energy was matched a moment later by a Donegal Guard Manticore on the far side and that signaled the start of the… could Victor even call this a battle? It was more like a bloodsport… perhaps the Clan word fit better: it was a trial.
The two formations lunged at each other. The plains weren’t entirely flat, but there were few obstacles and, for ‘mechs that towered ten meters tall on average, most of those that existed were fairly trivial. The Nova Cats were spreading out, each star fanning out into a single line. In contrast, the Donegal Guards remained in tight lances, in each case two lances focusing in on a single star. Eight on five.
With the excellence of Clan warriors, trained from birth and equipped with the best military technology ever invented, those numbers might not as advantageous as Victor could wish for… but the Guards were, for the most part, veterans and their ‘mechs were almost all new designs or upgrades on older ones.
Victor’s little wedge of three didn’t quite fit into the formation, they were near the right end of the FedCom line and he thumbed secondary controls on each joystick, feeling the rumble of his reactor and a subtle rise in heat as his PPCs went live. They’d been upgraded again since Coventry and Clovis Holstein had waxed lyrical about the improvements. Now they would be put to the test.
“Second star from their left flank,” he pointed out, using the local net that would only carry his words to the lances flanking him to the left and right. “Hellbringer and Gargoyle - I have the ‘bringer, Matti you take the Gargoyle. ‘Doc, you’re cleaning up. Everyone knows the plan.”
“Sir, are we clear to make physical attacks?”
Victor winced. He hadn’t considered that particular twist on Clan expectations. They didn’t approve of such attacks… but it was perfectly normal for his own mechwarriors to use them if the opportunity presented itself. On the other hand, he was already putting them at a lot of risk. “We’re dangerous,” he decided. “Let them know it.”
There were several approving chuckles on the channel and then there was no more time.
Victor dropped his crosshairs over the Hellbringer. While he wasn’t really inside effective range, that didn’t really matter - he fired one PPC and missed. What mattered wasn’t hitting though, what mattered was that the Hellbringer was now ‘his’ target and under the honor code of the Clans it must now fight him and only him. Around him, other mechwarriors were doing the same: taking the initiative to pick their opponents out and dictating who would fight who.
The Hellbringer fired back, the Nova Cat sure enough of his range advantage to slow the ‘mech to steady himself and fire back with both PPCs from a stable firing position. One of the PPCs missed and Victor turned to one side, not quite managing to avoid the other one. His electronics flickered as the shot crashed against the left side of his Warhammer’s torso and blasted deep into the armor plating.
It didn’t quite penetrate… and the instant before the shot hit, he had triggered his own return shot from the left arm’s PPC. His ‘mech didn’t mount the older Donal PPC that had marked the Warhammer for centuries. Both had been replaced with salvaged Clan models, rebuilt by Clovis Holstein with capacitors based on those used in Gauss Rifles.
They were slower to charge when those capacitors were active; and they ran far hotter, something that the slower rate of fire didn’t entirely off-set.
But they hit with unprecedented force and the Nova Cat’s assumption of a narrow range advantage let Victor aim almost perfectly. The bolt of charged particles missed the cockpit by less than a meter, tearing into the bulked out right torso, just below the missile launcher.
Barring extraordinary fortune, a standard PPC - or even the more impressive Clan models - wouldn’t have been assured of a penetration. The Hellbringer’s armor was thinner than that of Warhammer even without the reinforcement that Victor benefited from, but the designers had realized that it was going to have to survive a hit from a Gauss Rifle or an extended range PPC.
They hadn’t designed it to survive a hit from what Clovis Holstein had called ‘the most powerful directed energy weapon ever mounted on a ‘mech’.
The charged particles blew through every protection and speared into the ammunition stores that fed both missile launchers and machine guns. While the cellular storage systems vented the secondary detonations as intended, sparing the core of the Hellbringer, they couldn’t spare the weapons, the reactor shielding or the control runs to the omnimech’s right arm.
Only the fact that the mechwarrior had slowed for their own shots let them avoid a fall, but the Nova Cat was stripped of half his armament and the infra-red bloom marked reactor damage.
To the credit of the mechwarrior, they kept coming and Victor was rocked again by a second hit that crashed against his Warhammer, blocking it with his left arm to protect the damaged side of his ‘mech. Again, his armor could take the hit.
Then his right arm’s PPC had fully recharged and the next shot plowed into the center of mass for the Hellbringer. Most ‘mechs could have taken that hit and kept fighting but that wasn’t the case here.
“Blake’s blood,” Trevana whispered over the comms as the Hellbringer blew up, a trail of fire marking the mechwarrior’s ejection.
Freed of his immediate concerns, Victor looked around. Few ‘mechs were falling yet on either side, giving him precious moments to let his PPCs recharge and the temperature gauge to drop. Just a few instants of combat had left him sweating.
The Donegal Guards weren’t fighting to kill, they were going for crippling shots, aiming to open up holes. A Timber Wolf brought down a Zeus from the lance to Victor’s left, but its paint had been torn away marking where armor had been weakened, but not penetrated across the left side. The omnimech’s right arm was a wreck, marking where a gauss rifle had been wrecked.
Undaunted by the damage, the bird-like omnimech wheeled towards Victor, shielding its left flank as the Nova Cat tried to target his own damaged left side.
Before the ‘mech could fire, Trevana’s Centurion darted in, moving even faster than the Timber Wolf and tearing open the damaged side of the cylindrical torso with its autocannon. A moment later a volley of LRMs slashed in to strike at the heavier’ mech.
The Nova Cat still had a weight advantage but with the loss of its gauss rifle, there wasn’t much difference in armament and it had already been damaged. The mechwarrior twisted away, trying to prevent the more agile Centurion from bringing its weapons to bear on the open sides - cluster rounds from the LB 10-X in the lighter ‘mech’s right arm could create havoc with such an vulnerability.
Victor checked for an open opponent, sweeping his gaze past a Gargoyle that was back-pedaling, trying to keep an Axman from closing in but unable to deliver a killing blow.
Matti had managed to finish off her own Gargoyle but her Thunderbolt was blackened almost from head to tow, the missile launcher a wreck and the left arm missing entirely as a Kingfisher pummelled her.
The assault ‘mech had taken a pounding from a previous opponent but Matti was struggling to exploit it - the Kingfisher was nothing like the lighter Hellbringer, it was layered in thick armor plating and her lasers hadn’t managed to force a penetration.
“Punch out, Matti. You can’t take much more of this,” Victor warned.
“I’m s’pposed to be guarding you, Victor!” she spat back. “I’ll keep this ‘un busy.”
“Like hell you will,” he snapped as the Kingfisher’s autocannon blazed, ripping open the front of the Thunderbolt. “Stick to the plan, and don’t make me apologize to Rudi!”
A gaelic curse came back at him across the command net and a moment later the Thunderbolt’s canopy erupted open and threw the mechwarrior up and into the sky. A split second later the Kingfisher’s finishing blow landed, a PPC shot that cored through the front of the heavy ‘mech and blew parts of the gyro out of its rear.
Seeing it’s victim dead, the Kingfisher turned in search of a new foe and Victor could almost see the mechwarrior’s shock as it saw him already lining up both PPCs.
“Hi there,” he breathed and triggered both weapons as the crosshairs hovered over the center of mass.
A wave of heat washed over Victor and he reached for the reactor override on reflex before realizing that the heatsinks were already dragging the temperature back down to safe levels. He’d been firing from near ideal conditions and had only orange-lined the ‘mech, not reaching the levels when the reactor safeties would try to shut him down.
A second such salvo would have done that, but the Kingfisher had taken both shots to the chest and however tough it was, the impact of the shots had not only carved open the armor, it had overloaded electronics briefly and left mechwarrior and gyro unable to keep the ninety-ton ‘mech upright. The assault ‘mech crashed over onto its back and Victor stalked closer, seeing the charging meters for the PPCs rise slowly. He could have fired them without waiting for a full charge, but Holstein had admitted that that part of the design was ‘fiddly’ which he took to mean that it was a last resort.
Instead he lowered his sights over the Nova Cat ‘mech and triggered his secondaries. Pulses of coherent light from the lasers carved the hole in the front of the ‘mech and he saw the PPC mount detonate. Six SRMs exploded out of the missile launcher and hammered less precisely into the Kingfisher, cratering its remaining armor but still it struggled to stand.
Pushing the Warhammer harder, Victor closed in and then slammed one of its broad feet down on the chest of the Kingfisher, feeling components grind and break under the impact. Lowering one PPC to aim down at the cockpit, he could see the pale face and wide eyes of the mechwarrior inside. “Be smart,” he demanded, using his loudspeakers.
With a resigned look, the Nova Cat reached for what was evidently the reactor controls and a moment later the temperature of the fallen ‘mech nosediveed, indicating that the power was off. The woman inside started working to remove her neurohelmet in surrender.
Victor took a moment to look at the wider tactical situation. The plains, which only minutes ago had been populated by lines of pristine battlemechs were now a charnel yard of broken machines. Over a dozen surrounded just his vicinity and the tac display showed barely half the blue and red icons that had once been visible. Off the cuff, he reckoned little more than a dozen Nova Cats ‘mechs still stood, facing perhaps twice their number of Donegal Guards.
“Stick to zellbrigen!” he barked as he saw a Lyran Hippogriff open up on a battered Warhawk just as Trevana’s Centrion tried to line up his own shot.
The ops officer pulled back and a moment later, the Warhawk brought both arms to bear and discharged four PPCs in turn into the Hippogriff. The medium ‘mech was fresh and hardly a soft target but that was more firepower than Victor had employed against much larger ‘mechs. Fifty-five tons of battlemech was outlined by the flaring electromagnetic bolts and then dropped to its knees, the cockpit a blasted ruin and much of the chest no better.
For a moment, Victor saw another ‘mech like it but in the colors of the Third Davion Guards. The product of eye flare perhaps but it moved him to stab his finger onto the general broadcast control. “Star Colonel Nostra!” he called. “I offer you hegira!”
The Warhawk was steaming, clearly on the brink of shut-down after that fusillade. It still moved its weapons to track Trevana’s Centurion, as it tried to get around and out of the arc of fire. A moment after Victor’s words, the assault ‘mech abruptly lowered its arms, pointing all four weapons towards the ground. “Kommandant-General, I accept,” the Nova Cat’s voice boomed. “All Nova Cats, cease fire!”
“Cease fire!” Victor added his voice. “Donegal Guards, stand down! We have won!”
For a moment he thought that the mechwarriors might not heed them but discipline held - battered Nova Cats backed away, weapons aimed deliberately away from the blackened and no less savaged Donegal Guards, who began to shuffle back into something approaching their initial lance deployments, watching the Clan ‘mechs warily as heat dissipated.
“Star Colonel Nostra.” Adam’s voice was cool and collected - he hadn’t been fighting, which Victor suspected was harder on his cousin than being in the thick of it. “Do I understand correctly that you accept defeat.”
“Aff,” the Star Colonel’s voice was wearier than his earlier acceptance, perhaps no longer feeling the adrenaline of the battle. “Your Kommandant-General has offered hegira and I accept it. We cede the battlefield and the prize of this world.”
“It is my understanding that under hegira, neither side may claim bondsmen?” Adam queried.
“You understand correctly, Marshal. With your permission, I will withdraw my warriors and the civilian governors we brought with us to our dropships. It may take several days before a jumpship is available to carry us back to another occupied world.”
“That is acceptable. I will call in our own recovery and medical teams for all of our warriors,” Adam offered. “Any of your warriors not able to travel with you will be offered our protection and care until they can.”
Nostra grunted. “That would be appreciated. I am pleased to see that those wearing the Star League’s banner live up to it.”
“Don’t expect us to always operate under your code,” Adam warned.
“Let me tell you a… well, it is not a secret,” the Nova Cat told them. “There is no Clan, and few warriors, who cannot be pushed to the point of breaking zellbrigen or even the abandoning the martial code entirely. But not every conflict need be fought to annihilation. It was to our advantage to hold onto Incukalns, but losing it is not a disaster for us. I know that some of your people believe we mistake our trials for war, but that is not true. It is an alternative to war, one that allows us to settle our differences without undue cost. No more and no less.”
“We are at war though,” Victor pointed out.
“We are in conflict,” the Nova Cat disagreed mildly. “We each have choices in how that is resolved. Some of those choices lead to trials like this, others to horrors like the Amaris Civil War.” The Warhawk was no longer immobile with heat and he slowly began to back-pedal towards his own forces. “There are those amongst my Clan - and others - who believe that our conflict with you must end in annihilation. What you have done today suggests otherwise.”
Victor watched the Nova Cats leave the circle, ‘mechs striding - or limping - towards the rest of the Cluster. Utility vehicles were already streaming from the dropships to recover ejected mechwarriors or those trapped within their cockpits.
“What do you make of that?” Adam asked him by private channel. “It sounded significant.”
“I think it was,” he replied. “The Clans have never reached out to us diplomatically on our terms, but they’d probably find that as confusing as we found their first batchalls. Maybe this is the Nova Cats trying to open negotiations. Our report is probably going to be read by everyone on the Star League Council. Try not to make any spelling mistakes.”
-
Yamashiro, New Samarkand
Diamond Shark Dominion
6 December 3056
There were many things that Ace Enders accepted that he didn’t understand, some more important than others. While it wasn’t one of the things that kept him up at night, he did have a historian right with him, so he took the chance to ask: “This thing is seven hundred years old. Why is it basically identical to what’s being used right now? I could have sworn there was supposed to be some degree of technological progress.”
Ellison Enders leant on the railing, looking over at Coordinator Shiro Kurita’s Sabre aerospace fighter from the early twenty-fourth century. “How many history lessons did you get in the sibko?”
Ace frowned and absently used his fingers to calculate. “Once a week for… six months. So, twenty-five.”
“Was that a joke? Please tell me you were joking?”
“I was literally raised in a bandit camp until I was nineteen,” Ace pointed out. “My education was a little erratic.”
The older mechwarrior threw his head back and laughed. “You are a barbarian!”
“A true barbarian would not be trying to improve himself. So?” He waved his hand at the fighter suspended from the ceiling.
“There are a large number of incremental improvements between this and the type of fighters we see today, at least when it comes to variants of a Sabre,” the Goliath Scorpion lectured. “And even those are generally downgrades from those used by the Star League. Technological development is not a flat line, it is highly erratic. At times there can be fundamental breakthroughs but at others there may be generations where all we can do is refine what we have because we are fully exploiting our current understanding of the universe.”
Ellison rubbed his chin with one hand. “And it is not quite what we are seeing these days. Maybe back when you were overrunning half the Outworlds that was all they had, but my pilots were running into more advanced fighters - Corsair ComStar variants, the Cor-Star they call it.”
“In ComStar hands?” Ace asked, brow furrowing. He had heard of the fighter, though he had no personal experience of it.
“No, flown by the Alliance Military Corps.”
The Galaxy Commander smacked his fist against the rail. “ComStar must be selling armaments to everyone facing us. First the Hippogriff and now this.”
“It is no secret that all of the invading clans are installing their own HPGs to remove any dependence on them,” Ellison pointed out. “It does not take a genius to work out that after that point we have little need to tolerate their enclaves.”
“So besides the enemies outside our territory we have another that is operating within the dominion. Wonderful,” he said sarcastically. “I need to talk to Abigail Enders again. We need more data about the Inner Sphere.”
“I do not think you are worried enough,” the Seeker told him wryly. “Those fighters did not just use Alliance markings, they also bore the Cameron Star.”
“The Star League symbol.” Ace ran his hand through his hair. “If they are reviving that…” Then he laughed, bitterly. “The Crusaders wanted the invasion to rebuild the Star League. It seems they have accomplished that mission.”
“Worse than that. The Outworlds Alliance was not a willing member of the Star League. But now they are choosing to identify with it.”
“Stop trying to cheer me up, Ellison.” Ace was fairly confident of the analysis that Abigail Enders had shared with him of the Combine’s strength, which suggested a minimum of three years before they replenished their strength to where it had been before the push on New Samarkand. Even if they received supplies from the other Successor States, it would take them time to train up more soldiers. But if active combat troops from realms that hadn’t been contacted yet were committed then that equation changed.
The older member of the bloodhouse chuckled. “Think how happy the younger warriors will have a chance to earn glory in battle.”
“When did I stop counting as a younger warrior?”
“About the time you turned thirty.”
Ace raised one hand with three fingers raised.
“What’s that mean?”
“I will be twenty-nine for three more days.”
Ellison laughed again, turning his back on the fighter and leaning back on the rail. “Then I suppose that you should be excited at getting the chance to earn glory.”
I want victory, not glory. Ace made a rude gesture at Ellison.
The Goliath Scorpion reached into his pocket and pulled out a coin. “So I have a question for you. What the stang is this?”
Ace extended his hand and Ellison tossed the coin to him. Turning it over in his hand, the mechwarrior read the surface of the coin and then threw it back. “It is a half-Damon.”
“So if I get two of them, is it a full damon, whatever that is?”
“Heh. Yes, that is exactly how it works. It is a coin, Ellison. Surely you must have seen one before.”
“I have seen kerenskys before. But this is not a kerensky, it looks a little like one.” The other man dropped him back in his pocket. “The currency of all the Clans is standardized, that is a requirement of the martial code. Why is your Clan minting its own currency, named for one of your past khans?”
“An interim measure,” Ace told him. “We cannot keep paying workers with House Kurita’s currency, and if we do not pay them then the entire economy will grind to a halt.”
“As loathe as I am to question a Diamond Shark about anything economic,” the graying warrior observed, “You are an ill-educated idiot, so why not just pay them with kerenskys? The money that we already have?”
He chuckled. “This is exactly the question that was asked in the Clan Council. Apparently most of the civilians are dubious about kerenskys because they expire if they are not used.”
Ellison tilted his head. “Can they not just spend them? Is that not what money is for?”
“Apparently not. Some people hoard it.”
“For… what exactly?” asked the old warrior, pulling the coin from his pocket. “It is not very pretty, and even in a collection why would you want more than one?”
“To spend them later. If, for example, due to age or the absence of employment, you have no income.”
“But the Clan would find them work,” Ellison pointed out. “Even if they…”
Ace shook his head. “House Kurita did not do that and very few people believe we will. The idea is that once they have the idea that they do not actually save money that we replace the damon with kerenskys. A full damon coin looks a lot more like a kerensky.”
“Your merchants came up with the idea, quiaff?” accused the Goliath Scorpion.
“Of course. Why would our warriors try to come up with a plan for the economy when we have merchants who know what they are doing?”
“What else would I expect from a Clan that changes its name. And now you want to turn it back?”
“It is a little more complicated than that. The name is only part of the issue, it is to do with our visions for the Clan’s future. Those of us who feel we should adapt to our circumstances are rallying under the name of the Sea Fox.”
“So this is how it is to be present where history is made,” Ellison concluded merrily. “How exhilarating!”
Acomb, British Isles
Terra, Sol System
19 December 3056
“Is there some reason we’re meeting here?” Tiger Lily asked as she walked towards the restaurant table.
Wei Rong raised a wine glass in greeting. “It’s convenient for Sandhurst.”
“That is in fact a lie,” the Precentor Martial criticized from where he was sitting across from her, a tumbler of whiskey in one hand. Wearing a civilian suit with his long hair tied back in a ponytail, the one-eyed man looked like the villain of a holovid - in fact, a waitress had already asked if he was an actor. “We are over four hundred kilometers from Sandhurst.”
“That’s much closer than Hilton Head.”
“We could take a shuttle from Sandhurst and be in Hilton Head in under an hour. It took two hours by helicopter to get here.”
Wei chuckled. “Alright.” She sipped from her wine. “No one will expect to find us here, I’m fairly sure that there are no spies from any of the Great Houses here.”
Precentor Atreus looked around the converted pre-industrial farmhouse. “I can see why. Please tell me the kitchen is good?”
“I’d recommend the steak,” Wei told her. “The beef around here is excellent.”
The door opened and the last of her guests entered the restaurant, speaking briefly to a waiter before being pointed to Wei’s table. “With all due respect,” Andrew Norris told her in a tone that made it clear he wasn’t feeling respectful, “Why here?”
“Security reasons,” she replied. “Take a seat.”
Raising her hand, Wei called over a waitress and after a brief conversation everyone agreed on ordering the rump steak. A moment later and the waitress was back with Norris’ beer and Tiger Lily’s wine.
“What’s so sensitive that we can’t talk in Hilton Head?” Precentor Pesht asked after he’d taken a long drink from the pint glass.
Wei opened her mouth to reply but Focht spoke first. “The Primus takes every chance to escape her office, this isn’t the worst place she’s set up a meeting.”
“The Star League Council is finalizing objectives for the counter-offensive,” Wei said quietly. “The First Circuit voted in principle to participate but we are out of time to debate exactly what our part of this will be. I believe that the three of us have enough influence that whatever we agree will have the support of the majority of the First Circuit… and Anastasius is the best placed to advise us.” Tiger Lily lead the Terra-centric precentors and between Focht and Norris the militants would be on side. Combined with her own admirers, that came to around two-thirds of the First Circuit - the religious extremes made up much of the rest but Wei would be damned before she tried to bring Buckley in for this conversation.
Tiger Lily examined the contents of her wine glass as if the secrets of the universe were contained within. “So you are as concerned about spies from our own people as from the Great Houses.”
Wei tried not to let her face reveal how close that was. “Our spies answer to me, via DRUM. What I want is to avoid is spending weeks or months arguing via proxy. If we can come to an agreement and convince our political allies then ComStar is not the one slowing down the entirety of the counter-offensive.”
“That might have been easier to avoid with a smaller First Circuit,” the other woman murmured.
“The irony is not lost on me.”
Norris leant back in his seat. “My last information was that the Council had agreed that they need a commanding general to provide a single chain of command over all the operations being carried out.”
“They have elected such a commanding general,” Wei told him. “Taking a page from the history of the Free Worlds League, Precentor-Martial Focht will serve for a maximum of two years in the position before handing over to whoever is elected as his replacement.”
“It seems entirely probable that fighting will still be ongoing by then,” Norris warned.
Wei sighed. “I know. It was a compromise.”
“Quite honestly, two years of coordinating such extensive operations will be… exhausting,” Focht observed. “And I am not a young man. I imagine I will be quite ready to hand over the responsibility to someone else.”
“You said we need to decide quickly,” Tiger Lily said and sipped from her glass. “Oh dear, this was a mistake.”
“Order something else,” Wei told her.
“That is not done,” the precentor observed and sipped again. “Should I take it that military operations will be beginning in the next few months.”
Focht shook his head. “It will take at least a year to move the jumpships, supplies and troops into position. The distances are considerable and depending on our commitment, we may need to start making the moves almost immediately.”
Wei leant forwards. “One of the planned operations is a ‘demonstration’ raid against the Clan homeworlds. It will take a year for the task force to reach the right region of space and the thinking is that the attack should take place at approximately the same time as the other operations so they will need to assemble and depart within the next month.”
“I am glad that they are making use of Kapten Miraborg’s data,” Tiger Lily said thoughtfully, setting her glass down. “Not to mention the Explorer Corps’ work… but such an attack may be provocative.”
“What are they going to do?” asked Norris sarcastically. “Invade the Inner Sphere? I think we are a little bit past that point.”
“By my understanding, more than half of the Clans haven’t joined the invasion so far,” she countered. “Do we really want to see that change?”
Focht ran one finger about the rim of his empty glass. “We have no guarantee that we will not have to face that anyway. Interrogation of captured Clan warriors makes it clear that the majority of the Clans actively competed for the right to join the invasion. Their original plan only involved five Clans’ participation and the involvement of seven was the result of pressure to expand that number.”
“Their invasion ultimately halted for lack of forces,” Wei reminded them. She refilled her own wine glass. “If I were in the shoes of a Clan Khan wishing to lead a renewed invasion - and we know that there are such men and women - then inviting more Clans to invade would be an obvious course of action. With that as a case…”
Tiger Lily nodded in understanding. “Alright, that is less of a concern. But we should still try to avoid provoking those Clans.”
“Of course,” the Primus agreed. “In the best case, Task Force Topaz will find Huntress. Our best information is that the world is almost entirely under the control of Clan Smoke Jaguar, with some possibility that Clan Jade Jade Falcon shares it with them. That may have changed since then but I don’t think that striking at either of those Clans will be considered excessive so long as there are no atrocities.”
“There will be considerable temptation,” Norris noted. “The Kungsarme have offered their Flying Drakons to join the attack and they were in the air over Reykjavik when it was destroyed.”
Focht grimaced. “For that reason we want to exercise tight control over any weapons of mass destruction involved. Nuclear armaments to engage warships must be taken as a contingency and General Mansdottir has confirmed that at least some of Rasalhague’s strategic arsenal was evacuated before the Republic’s conquest. Rather than have them bring their own, I want approval to have the ComGuards provide all of the warships for Topaz. If the Flying Drakons are staging from our ships we should be able to control what weapons they have access to and reserve them for cases where they are needed.”
“How many of our warships would this be?”
“I’m proposing to send our Second Destroyer Squadron,” the Precentor Martial informed her. “It’s made up of six Lola-class destroyers. Their fighter bays would be sufficient to carry all thirty-six fighters of the Flying Drakons and they have no dropship collars for carrier dropships.”
“Wouldn’t that limit their supplies?” asked Norris.
“The cargo bays are extensive,” Wei replied. “Between them, the destroyers can carry over six hundred thousand tons of supplies. Unloading them via shuttles would be time-consuming, but it’s enough to cover for a lot of contingencies.”
The ex-ComGuard glanced over at Focht. “Who else will be sent?”
“Thomas Marik has formed a new regiment of volunteers, the Knights of the Inner Sphere. Two battalions come from the FWLM while the others are mercenaries and even defectors from other realms. The Captain-General recruited them to be a chivalric order as much as a military force.”
Wei had a nasty feeling that it would go astray in time, but probably not in the first generation. “A unit of idealists may be suitable as a moral restraint and he was quite enthusiastic about sending them. The bulk of the fighting forces will be a full RCT from the Armed Forces of the Federated Commonwealth.”
“I suppose they can spare such a large unit for over two years, assuming they make it back at all,” Norris grumbled.
“Indeed. The Capellans and the Periphery realms were uninterested in contributing forces, but there will also be two battalions of battle armor from the DCMS, added to one with the regimental combat team. We expect a final decision on which RCT will be sent within the next few days, but it will most likely be one of the Davion Guard units.”
“That’s still quite a small force to strike at the Clan homeworlds,” Tiger Lily said thoughtfully.
“It’s a raid, not an invasion. Enough, we hope, that the Clans will concern themselves with defending their homeworlds rather than reinforcing their Inner Sphere holdings. We cannot hope to hold territory that far from the Inner Sphere,” the Precentor Martial warned. “There is considerable public pressure to hit back but we must be realistic.”
“And if Huntress is not found? My understanding is that the Clan capital system is close to it.”
“If we can’t locate Huntress, then Strana Mechty is unlikely to be found, they are within a single jump of each other.” Wei could imagine what a disaster an attack on what was apparently considered near sacred territory to the Clans would turn into. “In any case, Strana Mechty is off limits - if anything would send the Clans berserk it would be attacking them there. They don’t even fight over territory on their capital amongst themselves; but all the Clans have a presence, so it must be far too heavily defended.”
“Indeed,” Focht confirmed. “If they don’t find Huntress then any other enclave of the invaders would be a viable alternative. There will be discretion to negotiate with other Clans for navigational data if no other option is available, if the commander feels that they will abide by a trial of possession of such information. However, if we cannot find anything then it is better to withdraw intact. One consideration of sending such a small force is that it would cost us little even if nothing is accomplished.”
“Except it’s a large portion of our fleet.”
“Six destroyers from a fleet of forty-four,” Wei reminded Tiger Lily. “We will be completing four new ships before Task Force Topaz can repair, and if necessary we can re-activate the seven destroyers still in mothballs. I don’t like the expense of this but it’s an option.”
“What other warships will we commit?” the other woman asked cautiously.
“That’s in discussion, but the need to keep warships around Terra is something we’ve made clear. The squadron of cruisers in our orbitals and another covering Titan is the bare minimum,” Focht assured her. “My initial thinking is to commit two further destroyer squadrons to the counter-offensives, with our battlecruisers and corvettes held back with the strategic reserve.”
“If you sign off on restoration work for the other destroyers then I can accept that,” Tiger Lily said at last.
At that moment, the waitress approached with the first plates and Wei was glad of the excuse not to reply immediately. Soon plates with steaks, fries and salad were laid out, along with serving dishes of peppercorn sauce and other condiments.
Wei poured out some of the sauce onto the plate and was amused to see Focht eschew it, cutting open his rare steak before sniffing approvingly. “I was wondering if they were raising the cow from birth,” he muttered once the waitress had gone. The soldier cut a slice off the steak and chewed happily on it.
“If you are willing to work with me on convincing Phi of the financing then I’ll approve the restoration and upgrade of the Naga and Baron hulls,” Wei told Tiger Lily. “Precentor Zwick had design work done in case we needed it, but we will need a wartime budget.”
“What is it the Clans say? Bargained well and done?” Tiger Lily dipped a fry in the sauce and tasted it. Her eyes widened slightly. “Alright, this is worth the distance to get here.” She put the rest of the fry in her mouth and chewed. “I’ll order some better wine and we can toast to our hopes for Topaz.”
“There is another concern,” Wei told the Precentor before she could signal to the waitress currently tending to one of the handful of other occupied tables.
“Oh?” asked Tiger Lily.
“I assume you mean the HPG stations on occupied worlds,” Norris said quietly, driving his fork through some salad, before spearing a fry to secure it. His post on Pesht was several jumps behind the truceline.
Wei nodded bleakly. “We have to assume that the Clans will turn on those stations as soon as we move openly. They’ve been establishing their own HPGs but as far as we can tell it’s far from covering all their needs.”
“For now. Ten years from now will be another matter,” he warned before lifting his fork to his mouth.
“Agreed. So from their perspective, taking our HPGs leaves them in control of their communications and deprives us of bases at their rear - particularly along the periphery border and the old Lyran-Draconian border.” Many of the HPGs in those regions were at the heart of enclaves tens or even hundreds of kilometers across. “We can’t allow that to happen.”
“How can we stop them?” Norris asked once he was done chewing.
Focht spoke up. “For stations such as yours, that have no substantial territory, we will require full interdict protocols. Staff go to ground, hiding or destroying key components. The Clans have the knowledge needed to restore them to service eventually but it will take them years, due to the same component bottlenecks that are stalling their own parallel network of HPGs.”
That got a nod and then Precentor Pesht’s eyes widened. He lifted his beer and drank from it. Swallowing, he turned to Wei. “I am sure the Clans will give us a justification for a general interdict in the next year, but since the Precentor Martial only mentioned HPGs that lack an enclave around them…?”
“We could do the same,” Wei agreed. “It would mean abandoning the people who moved their for our protection, but except where the other Task Forces strike it is unlikely that garrisons could hold out for long.”
“That isn’t what you are planning, is it?”
Wei looked down at her own plate. “I am torn. It would be an abandonment… but if garrisons remain in place then they would likely be destroyed.”
“Casualties will be heavy,” Focht confirmed. “I expect battalions and brigade would be lost, perhaps entire divisions.”
“Can’t we simply evacuate the garrisons that cannot be easily over-run?” offered Tiger Lily cautiously.
The white-haired soldier shook his head. “That would reveal the regions that are of interest to us. It would be too suspicious.”
“Then why are we even considering having the ComGuards defend them?”
“There are two reasons,” Focht told them, voice solemn. “Firstly is the moral one. The duty of a soldier is to stand between civilians and harm. We have pledged to guard those enclaves and no one ever said that it would be safe to do so.”
“Dying for a principle sounds pretty but I imagine that the ComGuards will feel better about not being asked to die,” Tiger Lily pointed out and then reddened slightly, lowering her voice as a few heads turned at the next nearest table.
Wei smiled warmly at the other guests and mouthed “actors”. To her satisfaction, the other diners all turned back to their meal.
“No one is enthusiastic about dying,” Norris said quietly, “But unless they have changed significantly since my day, the ComGuards take their responsibility to those under their protection seriously. Abandoning those enclaves would be a severe blow to morale.”
Tiger Lily shook her head slightly but when she looked at Focht he nodded. “It would not be enough on its own to persuade me,” he told her. “However, there is also the argument that if the Clans are sending units to fight our garrisons, then those forces won’t be available to face the first waves of the counter offensive. I don’t intend to sacrifice my… our soldiers, but if they defend as long as they can before going to ground to fight as guerillas that could make a major difference.”
“Are you seriously considering this?” the precentor asked incredulously.
Wei’s face must have given her away.
“You want my support for this?”
“Several years ago,” Wei told her, “I sent the vast majority of our espionage experts behind enemy lines to support resistance movements against the Clans. The most favorable estimate I have is that half of them may be alive.”
“That’s what they’re trained for,” Tiger Lily hissed. “And they are volunteers.”
“And this,” growled Focht, “is what my ComGuards are trained for. All of them are volunteers as well.”
“I definitely need more wine.” Tiger Lily pushed her chair back and walked to the bar.
The three left behind said nothing as they waited. Wei cut some more from her steak but it was without taste when she put it in her mouth.
When Precentor Atreus returned with a full glass in her hand, she looked calmer. “Two divisions at most,” she almost whispered once she was seated again. “And they have to know what they are getting into - not the specifics, but brief them that there may be no relief if they come under attack by the Clans.”
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I'm glad that none of them is taking the sending troops to forlorn hope mission lightly.
Try not to make any spelling mistakes.
My Lord, why do you keep giving me the hardest battles?
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Matti had managed to finish off her own Gargoyle but her Thunderbolt was blackened almost from head to tow, the missile launcher a wreck and the left arm missing entirely as a Kingfisher pummelled her.
Toe, not Tow.
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Interesting development here. Especially Victor and Adam using clanner batchall against them.
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Interesting indeed. If the Nova Cats would defect to the FedCom at some point it would likely be a much more stable arrangement than what they got in canon...
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Interesting indeed. If the Nova Cats would defect to the FedCom at some point it would likely be a much more stable arrangement than what they got in canon...
... At least until Crazy Kat or someone like her rolls around. How do you think she would have reacted if the Nova Cats refuse to support her in the Civil War?
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I don't think Drakensis has a FedCom Civil War in mind... All the other developments are WAY more interesting! :D
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Opalescent Reflections
Full House
Chapter 4
Dali, Tamar
Clan Wolf Occupation Zone
12 January 3057
Ulric Kerensky had only expected to see Karl Bourjon appear across the desk from him, but as the live HPG communication opened, a second Khan was beside the leader of Clan Ghost Bear. The expression of Lynn McKenna was enough to tempt Ulric to hide behind the desk he’d laid claim to along with the rest of the Duke of Tamar’s office. “Dare I ask?” he enquired, barely keeping a groan from his voice.
The muscular Ghost Bear folded his arms across his chest. “You are acting as the protector of Clan Zeerga,” he rumbled.
What had those surats done now? “Aff, for a few more weeks. Since you are joining us, Khan McKenna, I assume that they have offended both of you this time?”
“You claim to be unaware?” she demanded.
“I am a very long way from the homeworlds,” Ulric pointed out. “No doubt some report from Clan Wolf’s Watch is on its way to me but much of their attention is focused on the Inner Sphere.”
The white-haired Snow Raven glared into his eyes. “Three days ago the Zeerga jumped their entire warship fleet into the Lum system and challenged the defenders of our shipyards.”
Ulric’s jaw sagged open. “They claimed your shipyards, quiaff?” There were several shipyards around the Clan homeworlds but most of them were focused on servicing existing vessels - understandable since the vast reserves left from the Exodus Fleet filled most of their needs. Clan Snow Raven, the paramount clan in the field of warships, were the most notable exception: their shipyards over Lum were the only one that could build new jumpships and warships.
Clan Wolf had tried to acquire part of the yards in 2966, something that his Clan would prefer to forget. The debacle had ended their own ventures into warship construction entirely.
“Neg!” McKenna exclaimed. “To stop that we would have destroyed them, no matter the cost.”
“They challenged for possession of three warships docked in the yards,” Bourjon rumbled. “Two of them belonging to my Clan.”
The Wolf Khan thought about that for a moment and then looked over at McKenna questioningly.
“The last was ours,” she confirmed. “But with the yards under the Zeerga’s guns the commander felt he must show restraint. He bargained down to fighters and elementals. A warship battle would have courted disaster.”
“Something Ward and Radick no doubt calculated on,” Ulric mused. “Reckless but effective.”
“Their fighters punched through and allowed elementals to seize control of the ships,” McKenna continued. “We ceded and they patched up controls for the jumpdrive and left a few hours ago.”
“They must be heading for Eden. The facilities there are their only option to complete warships. Off hand, I am unsure how long it might take though.”
“That is my own thinking,” agreed Bourjon. “We will not stand for this, Ulric. Those ships cost us a fortune in resources. The Zeerga cannot continue to hide behind you.”
The Khan leant back into his seat and examined the two. “I understand how you feel, but they did act under Clan law. I have no grounds to withdraw our support until March 18. Until then, any challenge to the Zeerga will be met by Clan Wolf. I can do no less…” Then he shook his head, feeling his gray hair brush the high back of the chair. “But I will do no more. If you want to strike at the Zeerga then I can only advise to wait until March 19.”
Both Khans nodded grimly and Ulric made a mental note that Clan Wolf’s forces in the Eden system were to make sure they left the instant that their obligations to the new Clan ended. They might once have been brethren but their actions over the last two years had soured the relationship.
“I am surprised they even wanted more warships,” he added thoughtfully. “Their holdings are not so widely spread as to need a large fleet. They could have probably have claimed ships from a naval cache with less difficulty. What ships were seized?”
“The Ark Royal is our newest battlecruiser.” McKenna all but spat. “Sister-ship of the Conqueror.”
Ulric nodded, searching his memory. Ah yes, a substantial rebuild of an SLDF fast cruiser, roughly comparable to Clan Wolf’s own flagship the Dire Wolf. “And your losses?” he asked Bourjon. He didn’t particularly keep track of Clan Ghost Bear’s ships but they were working hard as part of their shared supply lines with Clan Diamond Sharks so almost anything could have been sent in for maintenance.
“Do not tease me, Ulric! We had only two ships at Lum!”
For a moment, the older Khan was taken aback by Bourjon’s raw anger but then his memory gave up the missing pieces. “The Leviathans?! I thought they were far from being fit to jump.”
“Neg, they are largely unarmed and unarmored but their core propulsion was completed before priorities changed.”
The Leviathans - the Ghost Bear’s Follies - were a project going back more than ten years. Bourjon’s predecessors had entered into a partnership with Clan Snow Raven to build two of the most powerful warships ever built, a new generation to exceed even the Nightlord-class of battleships that represented the best of Clan warships. The costs had been huge, justified only by the expectation of having to fight warships belonging to the Great Houses.
Discovering that the Wolf Dragoons’ reports that such warships didn’t exist were correct, combined with the need to supply their own invasion force, had forced the Ghost Bears to divert the resources and thus the ships had lingered at Lum with progress slowing to a crawl.
“They must have been better informed than I was,” Ulric admitted ruefully. “But it would take years for them to complete the Leviathans. There’s no stockpile of capital armaments on Eden and I have heard nothing of them being seized from elsewhere. I am sure someone would have made me aware.”
McKenna snorted. “The answer is obvious. I will give you until the nineteenth of March, Ulric. But that clears any and all debts I may have owed you.”
“I would not ask more.”
The Snow Raven inclined her head sharply and then dropped out of the call, her hologram blinking away to leave the Wolf and Ghost Bear looking at each other.
“Transports,” Ulric concluded quietly.
Bourjon nodded. “We considered using them for that ourselves. Weapons require solid mountings, ammunition feeds, power… and then building the armored hull around all that. But cargo modules, habitation decks and life support - any dropship yard could build that given time.”
“What sort of capacities did you estimate?”
The Ghost Bear shrugged. “It depended on the preferred mix but… say a quarter million souls and as many tons of cargo, with fuel and life support to make the voyage to our occupation zone.”
“You never think small, quineg.”
“Neg. Nor short term.” Bourjon shrugged his shoulders. “The Clan Council is furious. You know how we are when roused.”
“I can only offer you what I did McKenna. When my pledge lapses, they are all yours,” Ulric promised. “When I offered my protection they were our erring sibkin, I had to appease their grieving comrades. The Zeerga have burned those bridges since then.”
The Ghost Bear folded his arms again. “I cannot imagine doing such a thing.”
“It was not my first resort,” he retorted. “I gave them a chance and they chose to squander it.”
“Our Clan is not the only one that desires revenge. It is probable that by the end of March the Zeerga will hold only their enclave on Strana Mechty,” warned Bourjon. “After that they may end up absorbed.”
Ulric had guessed as much. He would almost have expected abjuration but the chance at the genetic legacies the Zeerga had access to would be too great a prize. “That would not have my vote but I will not fight against it. Our Clan’s future is here in the Inner Sphere.”
Bourjon eyed him thoughtfully. “I had heard that you were establishing enclaves here but I had never thought to hear such worlds from you, Ulric. You have become a Crusader, quineg?”
“Neg, but Clan Wolf now rules worlds caught between the way of the Clans and those of the Inner Sphere,” he admitted. “Socially and geographically, the occupation zones will always be caught between the Clan and the Inner Sphere. The only way to stop further invasion is to create a point where both can meet with civility, if not peace. It will be a long road but that is something our Clans are better at than some others.”
“I have had similar thoughts,” the Ghost Bear agreed. “Of course, we may not have the time for such a road. If we do not survive our enemies’ claws, then it will not matter. The Zeerga are far from the largest challenge we are about to face.”
Kyoto City, Benjamin
Benjamin Military District, Draconis Combine
1 February 3057
Oda Hideyoshi’s estate would have fit in perfectly in the Imperial City. The marquis’ ancestor had acquired the land almost four hundred years ago and according to the dossier, the house had been built in the styles that were fashionable at the time. That being the traditional japanese architecture being pushed for by House Kurita as they moved the capital to Luthien, the only obvious differences were some subtleties of the wood that likely marked that the Hideyoshi family had used local timber originally or for repairs.
Probably the former, Minoru thought as he greeted his host with an exchange of formal bows. The Hideyoshi’s fortunes had risen and fallen over the years. When they first moved to Benjamin they would not be able to afford shipping rates for this much timber, not even in the golden years of the Star League.
The retired Otomo officer bowed deeply as Minoru crossed the threshold and the Coordinator returned the gesture. He was the lord of all lords in the Combine but he was still a guest today.
“My lord,” Hideyoshi greeted him. “You honor me with your visit.”
“I regret that I have not previously had the opportunity to spend time upon Benjamin,” Minoru answered politely, pretending not to notice that the older man was leaning on a cane. Hideyoshi had left a leg inside his battlemech on Luthien, if Omi’s resistance had not rescued him he would be a Diamond Shark bondsman. “Your estate has the appearance of a jewel in the crown of the district capital.”
“You are too kind.” The samurai gestured with the arm not using the cane towards the garden. “I feared that the style might be too melancholy while Luthien is inaccessible.”
That was delicately put, the younger man thought. “I have the fortune to place my own stamp upon the new capital.” Even if Luthien was liberated by the counter-offensive - which would be rather optimistic - then it would almost certainly be too exposed to shift the government there. Particularly given that another move would layer more disruption onto the court.
Hideyoshi indicated a turn on the path. “It will be a little time before dinner. Perhaps you would be pleased to engage in some archery while we talk. I imagine that you have had little chance to practice as you traveled.”
Minoru wouldn’t have said that archery was his favorite of the martial arts, but he was reasonably proficient and he supposed that it would be unreasonable to suggest a sparring session against a man twice his age with half as many organic legs as he had. “I would be pleased to.”
The older man seemed pleased and led Minoru through to one of the gardens. An open gallery at one end held firing positions and four targets stood at the far end, separated from them by a recently mowed lawn and lined with colorful flower beds.
“Less stark than the usual arrangement,” Minoru murmured as he selected a bow from the selection that had been laid out waiting for them. “I suppose less skilled archers might incur the anger of the gardener.”
Hideyoshi had set aside his cane once he reached a firing position and stood stiff-legged with his own bow in hand. “My wife first cultivated the flowers here,” he explained. “It was a way for us to combine our pleasures… and yes, she was most wroth on occasion if an arrow went astray. A fine inducement to improve.”
“One must respect the lady of the house.” He knew Hideyoshi had lost his wife several years before to cancer. Making his selection, Minoru carried the bow and a quiver of arrows to the next firing position. “Would you like the first shot?”
“Please,” the samurai declined with a gesture towards the targets.
Minoru nocked an arrow and extended his arm, waiting a moment before drawing it to extension. He looked down across the garden, letting the flowers flanking it fade from awareness. There was only the target, the arrow and the intent to bring them together.
The release came almost as a surprise and the arrow knifed into the target, dropping into the 9-ring just below the bullseye.
Hideyoshi did not offer sycophantic congratulations, simply drawing back his own arrow and releasing. His own arrow pierced the very edge of the bullseye. “I do not think you came here simply out of courtesy, tono.”
Minoru chose another arrow. “It is the nature of governance to seek to strike many targets with one arrow.”
“And neither diminishes the other. If I may help you to carry the burdens of the Combine then it is my duty and pleasure to do so.”
This time Minoru’s arrow was a hair too high, he had over-corrected and it would have been generous to say that the arrow was touching the bullseye. “I would value your counsel, Marquis Hideyoshi.”
“In the ancient wisdom of the west, a young man in possession of wealth and land must be desiring a wife,” Hideyoshi commented before launching another arrow into the target. It settled next to the first, clearly within the bullseye. “But I think that is not the topic that you have in mind.”
“It is not,” Minoru agreed evenly. He supposed that the remark or something like it was inevitable given that the man had a daughter who was unwed. “Have you ever met with Daniel Sorenson,” he asked instead.
“I had the privilege of attending his wedding,” Hideyoshi replied, to Minoru’s mild surprise. “Although we are not close. I think the offer was extended simply as a courtesy to a fellow officer who was on the same world at the time. His promotion came as a surprise, but not his loyalty or competence.”
“I have been pleased by both qualities.” Minoru loosed another arrow and it sank neatly between the first two - clearly in the bullseye, if not quite in the center. “While on Dieron I had the chance to meet with him and he has some interesting ideas about restructuring the government of his district to reflect lessons learned over the last few years.”
“Only his own district?” Lifting an arrow from his quiver, Hideyoshi examined it carefully, squinting along its length to check that it was perfectly straight. “The way some have spoken of his ideas, it would be easy to believe he wants to have the entire Combine reorganized into new districts to fit our diminished territory.”
Minoru was selecting his own next arrow and let it slip from his fingers in irritation. “It would be presumptuous for one Warlord to look beyond the boundaries of his district.”
“Indeed.” Hideyoshi nocked his arrow and drew it. “Such a decision would be cowardly, in any case - accepting that our recent reverses are largely irretrievable. And Sorenson -” His voice was slightly strained from holding the draw so long. “- is no coward.”
The arrow struck the target but only in the 8-ring.
“I hope you have extended your understanding to those who err in their comprehension,” the Kurita offered. He drew and released the arrow, seeing it settle next to the last arrow, on the edge of the bullseye. “Sorenson believes that through these changes Dieron can offer more support to the coming campaigns. With the Star League divided in its priorities when it comes to repelling the Clans, I am inclining towards giving him the chance to prove his theories.”
“It would be too much to expect that the Federated Commonwealth would be willing to extend efforts to reclaim our worlds at the expense of their own. Your sister’s efforts in keeping them from taking advantage of our focus on the Sharks have been admirable, but it would take a miracle to have more. My daughter is a great admirer, I may have to bring her to Irurzun when Lady Omi is next there,” he said in an indulgent tone. “I hope that it would not be presumptuous to introduce her - I owe your sister my life.”
“I’m sure Omi would be pleased, although I’m not sure when she will return,” Minoru said, picking another arrow and politely waiting for Hideyoshi to take a shot.
“Now that I can no longer take the field myself, I find myself thinking more about the future,” the marquis said, nocking the arrow. “I had fixed ideas of where my life would go and now I find myself living a rather different life - I had rather hoped to be chosen as the next regimental commander but now I have to find other ways to serve.” He released the arrow and it struck the dead center of the target.
Minoru drew his own arrow and sought the focus to make the next shot the equal of his host’s. There was a flicker of movement at the entrance of the gallery and he sought to banish the distraction - if it was any threat his security would not have let it pass.
The arrow struck home just on the edge of the bullseye again.
“I crave your pardon for distracting you, Lord Kurita.” The new arrival bowed deeply and Minoru was caught aghast for a moment. Why was Wei Rong here!
A moment later, his mind caught up with what he was seeing. This wasn’t the Primus of ComStar, although she bore some resemblance with a similar figure and long hair worn in the same style. She wore a demure kimono and as she looked up, he saw solemn and intelligent eyes.
“One grants pardon only where there is something to be forgiven,” he told her. “Please think nothing of it, Marquis HIdeyoshi is merely a better shot than I am.”
The man in question lowered his bow. “Should I take your arrival to mean that dinner is served, Atsuko-chan?”
She bowed her head again. “Yes father.”
“As an old campaigner, one should not pass up on a chance to eat,” the host advised, turning back to his lord.
Minoru set his bow down. “Wise words that I have heard from both my father and grandfather. Let us wash our hands and eat.”
Atsuko clapped her hands sharply and two servants entered, each carrying a bowl in one hand and a jug in the other. They had towels over their shoulders.
Rinsing his hands, Minoru accepted soap and realized that it was Atsuko who had passed him the bar before turning away to offer another to her father. He wasn’t sure if he was imagining the warm touch of her hand as she gave him the soap.
His hope that Hideyoshi had missed his distraction was dashed when he saw a knowing look in the old officer’s eyes. “Do not take this the wrong way, tono, but Warlord Sorenson’s reforms are probably less critical to the realm’s future than you ensuring that you have an heir.”
The young woman flushed and snatched the soap back from her father. Minoru handed his own bar back to her before letting the servant pour warm water from the jug over his hands to wash away the soap. Her hand definitely brushed his and he watched her leave.
Minoru gave Hideyoshi a sharp look and the marquis spread his own clean hands slightly. “One wishes the best for one’s children, tono. I hope that you provide well for your own, with the future of the Combine… whoever you choose to wed.”
There was no doubt what the man was hoping for, only whether the resemblance between Minoru’s first crush and the marquis’ daughter was a coincidence.
“I admire your archery,” he said blandly, changing the topic as the two of them left the garden and followed the young lady of the house towards the dining room. “Clearly, I should practice more.”
Katyusha City, Strana Mechty
Kerensky Cluster, Clan Homeworlds
19 February 3057
Katyusha’s primary drop-port was the busiest on the planet and until the completion of a secondary drop-port fourteen years previously it had been the uncontested king of congestion for the entire Clan Homeworlds, even with three Clans that had neighboring enclaves pointedly directing all but the most urgent of their traffic via monorail to their own territory.
The main terminal was crowded by members of every caste and most of the Clans as Sarah Weaver stalked through it, although most had the good sense to move aside rather than stand in the path of a Khan.
“We are early, my Khan,” reported her aide - a warrior so green that she was probably still wet behind her ears.
“Better that than missing our takeoff,” she replied sharply. After three quarrels over precedence had led to bloodshed and delays, the Free Guild that managed the facility had appealed to the Grand Council and an officer of the Ebon Keshik had been assigned to oversee traffic control. From that day on, the rule had been ironclad: you took off on schedule or you were sent to the back of the queue, which could mean waiting for days. “I will wait in the lounge, alert me when the time comes to board.”
Up a flight of stairs from the main departures area, the lounge served caste leaders and other senior clansmen who might want to work in peace as they waited. Semi-enclosed booths lined one wall and doors along the other marked private rooms. The wall of armor-glass looked out over the dropships being prepared for lift, buses and luggage-haulers crawling back and forth in an intricate dance, partly blocked by the glass and steel bar that provided refreshments.
“PPC, Smoke Jaguar style,” Sarah ordered brusquely as soon as she reached the bar. A few travelers already waiting for attention turned at the sight of her but they all wisely went back to waiting as they saw her uniform and rank pins.
The bartender placed a snifter glass in front of her and measured four shots of wood-grain alcohol into it before digging beneath the bar for the second part of the cocktail. Once the next two shots had been added, Sarah drained it quickly and forced herself to show no expression as the beverage numbed her mouth - a point of pride amongst all her sibkin… of whom she was the last.
“Another,” she ordered, sliding her credcard over for payment. “I will use room three.”
The bartender paled slightly as he accepted the card and began pouring again. “The room is in use, Khan Weaver. By other Khans,” he clarified hastily.
“Then I will deal with them directly,” Sarah asserted, accepting the credcard and the fresh glass. “My aide will look for me, let them know where I am.”
“Aff, Khan.”
Sarah tucked her card away as she went to the door and unlatched it. The three waiting inside all looked up as she entered, two of them relaxing slightly at the sight of them. The third merely tilted his head in acknowledgement.
“A Smoke Jaguar PPC,” Malavai Fletcher sneered as Sarah kicked the door closed behind her. “Who does that to their alcohol.”
She rested the glass of wood-grain alcohol and prune juice in front of her and sat down facing the Khan of Clan Hell’s Horses. “This is a warrior’s drink, unlike you herbivores who use liquorice.”
“I have more wit than to dull my senses,” he riposted, indicating his mug of steaming black coffee.
“Herbivore,” she repeated before nodding to the other Khans present. “Taney. Radick.”
“Weaver,” the Ice Hellion greeted her. “What a complete coincidence!”
That got a laugh from Radick. There was no coincidence to their meeting here, of course. It had taken careful scheduling to have them depart within an hour of each other and thus have an unsuspicious meeting before they were divided by many light years from each other.
“None of us have changed our plans,” Fletcher announced. “Any delays have been within the tolerances of our agreed schedule.”
“We will reunite in the Inner Sphere and carve our names into the Remembrance!” Taney declared ebulliently, raising his glass in toast.
Radick went for the glass in front of her but hesitated as she saw neither Fletcher nor Sarah responding. “I also look forward to our victories,” she said, giving them a questioning look.
Seeing Fletcher’s challenging look, Sarah cursed the man for being so well-informed. “There has been a change to our own plans. Khan Showers is restless at the lack of opportunities for combat against the Inner Sphere and will be taking charge of our attack upon the Diamond Sharks.”
“Waiting nine more years must be hard at his age,” Fletcher chuckled and sipped from his coffee. “Hells Horses are not herbivores, Sarah.” He pointedly did not look at Radick, whose clan totem most certainly was.
“To victory over those who stand in our way,” the Smoke Jaguar offered to break the moment and this time they all drank, Sarah’s mouth numbing again and giving an excuse not to say more than a terse goodbye as a knock on the door had Taney alerted that it was time for him to go to his dropship.
“Even if Showers is taking the lead, why would we not see you in the Inner Sphere?” Radick demanded hotly after the door closed behind the Ice Hellion Khan. “I have more faith in you than I do in a fallen ilKhan.”
The older woman set down her glass firmly. “As our ally just pointed out,” she said, tongue feeling slightly awkward in her mouth after the two drinks, “Information has value. Will you answer a question for me in return?”
The Zeerga snorted. “Bargained well, so long as it is of no greater value.”
“The Diamond Sharks are shifting more of their garrison forces out of the homeworlds,” Weaver told her. “That creates an opportunity here and since Tau Galaxy has gone to the occupation zone without me I am authorized to build another new galaxy on Huntress out of production and graduating cadets who could not reach the Inner Sphere in time to aid you. The Diamond Sharks will be savaged from every direction, my Omega Galaxy adding another jaw to our offensive.”
“That does make sense,” Radick agreed. “What is your own question?”
Sarah thought for a moment about what to ask. “Your prizes from Lum: what will you name those warships?”
The blonde mechwarrior smiled proudly at reference to her Clan’s recent victory. “The battlecruiser has been named Reunion,” she declared. “And the battleships are the Revenge and the Retribution.”
“Strong names,” the Smoke Jaguar said, amused at the choices. Radick may be dreaming of a reunion between her Clan and the Wolves, but she thought that the other two names might be more indicative of what the Zeerga warriors would seek. For all the Khan’s dreams of treating this campaign as a trial of refusal over her exile, it would be unlikely to end in an easy reconciliation between the rival heirs to the Founder’s legacy.
They were interrupted again by a knock at the door. This time the visitor wore the black and white uniform of Clan Zeerga and Radick finished her glass quickly before following her aide out of the lounge.
The two remaining Khans eyed each other wordlessly for a moment after the door closed.
“You are unusually quiet,” Sarah accused without heat.
“It serves me well,” Fletcher told her. “I got the answers to both of your questions without cost just by keeping my mouth shut.”
“You are sharper than most give you credit.”
“It is the scars,” the Hells Horse observed quietly. “Few can look past them.”
Sarah reached up and touched the one that crawled across her scalp. “Some call them marks of failure.”
“Wounds only scar if you survive them,” he said and drained his coffee mug. “Where do you plan to hit the Sharks? Vinton, quiaff?”
She bared her teeth at the reminder. The Diamond Sharks and the Smoke Jaguars had been fighting each other when the arrival of the Outbound Light cut short the conflicts among the Clans and took Showers’ attention away from reclaiming the enclaves on Vinton. Once a Smoke Jaguar stronghold, half the industrial world’s cities now flew the banner of the Diamond Sharks.
“Information for information,” she said instead. “And it is your turn to answer a question. How do you rate Radick’s chances of success?”
Fletcher considered her for a moment and then shrugged. “The Wolves will be one again however it turns out: either Radick wins her refusal or Kerensky crushes her and absorbs what is left of the Zeerga. Their enclaves here will be lost by the time Radick’s fleet reaches the Inner Sphere so there is no way back.”
“And in either case, the Wolves will have lost their Eden holdings,” Sarah noted with some satisfaction. Those enclaves bordered with some of Clan Smoke Jaguar’s holdings and had been a constant point of conflict over the years. Seeing the Wolves stripped of those lands and their wealth would be very satisfying.
“Not to mention many warriors and much of their equipment. It will be a generation or more before the Wolves can recover, even with the wealth of their occupied worlds,” the elemental said confidently.
“A humbling that is long overdue.” She shook her head. “As to your own question, I have not yet settled on a target. It will depend where the Diamond Sharks are most vulnerable next year. They still have a frontline galaxy here in the Kerensky Cluster and another in the Pentagon. If they reduce Beta Galaxy’s strength then Vinton would be tempting, but there is also their harjel source on Strato Domingo.”
“Hitting the merchants in their finances.” Fletcher sounded approving. The Diamond Sharks’ monopoly on harjel, a critical material for elemental battle armor as well as self-sealing hulls for spacecraft, had made them immensely wealthy.
“Or we may hit them on Babylon or Dagda if Delta Galaxy is weakened. Whatever hurts them.” Sarah might have spoken further but the door opened to reveal her aide.
“Your dropship is ready, my Khan. We have fifteen minutes to board.”
“Fight well, Khan Fletcher,” she told the towering Hells Horses officer as she rose to her feet.
“Give them hell, Khan Weaver,” he rumbled and rose to bow slightly to her as she left for her dropship and Huntress.
-
Progress is progress... Interesting to say the least! :D
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Yikes, Clans are turning on each other.
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Not so much "turning" as "turned on each other by design"... >:)
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With the Arkab Legions forming a much larger role and portion of the DCMS, it will be interesting to see how they use that position. I could see them pushing for some of the rebuilding mech factories to be located in Azami territories, even more freedom in Kurita society, possible some other things I'm not considering. While they would know there is a limit to how far Minoru would be willing much less could yield to them, he also can't afford to fully turn them down as well.
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Yikes, Clans are turning on each other.
Are you really surprised?
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Let's see if the Zeerga get their invasion fleet out before all those people they've pissed off are coming knocking. Sarah Weaver is right in her assessment - however the war plays out in the Inner Sphere, Clan Wolf will be worse for wear for years to come. But that will be true for the Jaguars as well, with both the Wolfs and Task Force Topaz gunning for their capitals...
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Can you imagine IS coming knocking at Huntress, just as Weaver is busy fighting Sharks?
''Hey guys, can we have a time-out here, I left a gas stove on at home.''
''Deal negotiation you say?''
''[Muttered unimaginative swear words]''
I reckon Labov will give her a tough fight.
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So, let's see if I got the timetable of future conflicts right:
- After 18th March 3057, the Ghost Bears, Ravens and likely a host of other Clans will begin to hit Clan Zeerga in retaliation.
- Shortly after that, Clans Smoke Jaguar, Hell's Horses, Zeerga and Ice Hellion will start an all-out attack on the Diamond Sharks in the Inner Sphere and the Home Worlds.
- At about the same time, Clan Wolf plans to hit Rasalhague and possibly other Smoke Jaguar worlds, too.
- Early 3058, the Inner Sphere (+Outworld Alliance) plans to launch their counter-offensive across the Steiner and Kurita border, while Taskforce Topaz is set to arrive in the Home Worlds to enact a heavy raid on Huntress.
That sounds like exceedingly unfun times for most people, except us readers, of course.
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The Angry Clans will hit the Inner Sphere holdings of Diamond Sharks in one year as that's how long it will take their forces to travel from Homeworlds to Inner Sphere
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Opalescent Reflections
Full House
Chapter 5
Hilton Head, North America
Terra, Sol System
13 March 3057
“...excuse me?” Wei asked in disbelief.
The First Circuit’s council chamber was back in service and in use, although most of the Precentors were also attending remotely. There was too much for them to do back at their posts for them to stay on Terra, but Wei was wondering now if she would have been better keeping them there so she could provide closer supervision.
“I was asking,” Trent Hone said politely, “when we would -”
“No,” Wei said, holding up her hand. “I heard you. There was just… so much wrong with what you said that I need a moment to process it.”
Precentor St Ives looked offended and a number of other Precentors looked irritated. Many more were confused and a few were amused.
“You’re asking,” Wei said slowly, “When ComStar will be reorganized to administer the Star League. Please don’t take this as thinking that this, or any other topic, is barred from discussion… But what in the world makes you think we’re about to do that? Did I miss something?”
Her words - or perhaps her tone - caused Precentor Shaffi to giggle inappropriately.
Hone flushed at the sound. “We are the last remains of the Star League’s administrative arms: the Ministry of Communications, the Bureau of the Star League Administration, even the SLDF divisions that didn’t join Kerensky in his desertion! Now that the Star League has been reborn, isn’t it obviously time for us to take up that role again?”
“I wouldn’t say that it was obvious,” Joe Murphy responded. “You’re the only person to even suggest it so far.”
Joseph Buckley coughed. “Someone has to be the first,” he told his counterpart from the other side of the Federated Commonwealth. “I hadn’t given it thought until now, and I would hesitate to say that we are ready to do this but there is logic to the idea and Trent is making a valid point. A restored Star League will need bureaucracy to administer it and who is better placed to provide it than our Order?”
Wei suspected that many of Hanse Davion and Melissa Steiner-Davion’s government officials would like to put themselves forward for the role but that might not be the best counter-argument.
“I don’t believe that we can reasonably say that the Star League is back in the sense that you mean,” she told Hone quietly. “You do make a legitimate point about considering our place in that the current detente between the Great Houses proves to be something more enduring than a purely military alliance against the Clans and I apologize if my initial response came across as mockery.”
“Primus, we are nearing the culmination of everything the Blessed Blake planned out for us,” Hone asserted. “The ancient technologies are being recovered and the Star League Council has reassembled. Surely we must put our weight behind this grand project. Our entire purpose is to provide leadership in these times… Not to try to usurp the rule of humanity as some of our more reckless brethren may have claimed, but to provide the tools and counsel that the leaders of humanity need.”
Wei nodded her head. “So far we are in complete agreement. However, that does not mean that we will succeed at this time. An ancient phrase once used by Albert Marik when discussing what would become the Star League with Ian Cameron comes to mind: a beginning is a very delicate time. Trust will take time to build and if we press too hard right now it is likely that we would spark backlash against this alliance. Our first step must be to defeat the Clans.”
“I don’t think anyone disagrees about destroying the Clans,” Buckley said with a laugh.
“Destruction and defeat are two very different things,” warned Andrew Norris. “I very much doubt that the Clans will be completely driven from the Inner Sphere in the near future. I certainly see no prospect of their homeworlds being taken.”
Shaffi spoke up, voice apologetic. “I would have to agree. The armies being mustered are formidable but the demands of such a campaign are limited less by the armed forces available and more by the economic might able to supply and transport them. The Clans swept across so many worlds because they had (and still have) a huge reserve of shipping, larger than that of any of the Great Houses, to deliver their forces and supplies across a vast distance; and even then they needed initial advantages of surprise and technological superiority. Even the most fervent believers in House Kurita’s ability to bounce back are talking about reclaiming valuable industrial worlds and political hubs. Completely reclaiming the Combine’s former territory seems impossible unless the other Houses were willing to focus entirely on defeating the Clans occupying those worlds at the expense of their own interests. I can’t see that happening.”
There was a rustle of disagreement from around the First Circuit and Wei looked around, trying to assess its extent without seeming too disturbed. “That is in line with Precentor Martial Focht’s reports of the current planning. We will have to co-exist with the Clans in the future. Destroying them without returning to the atrocities of the First Succession War and subjecting the Inner Sphere to retaliation on the same terms would be impossible - and if anyone proposes to do that then please resign from ComStar first. The light of knowledge that we are charged with keeping alight does not involve nuclear warheads.”
She placed her hands on the podium and glared at the ranks of the podium. “Our influence and leverage over those who make up the Star League Council, many of them representing states that never signed the Treaty of Geneva, rests on our ability to to act as neutral arbiters backed by our control of communications, our military might and our admittedly erratic grasp of the moral high ground. For us to do what Precentor St Ives suggests now would be to place all those tools in the hands of the rest of the Star League Council… and I am far from ready to believe that they will pursue those goals over their own individual interests.”
Wei shook her head and looked down for a moment. “The day may come, Robert. That day may come, but we cannot do so to achieve our Order’s sacred mission. We can do so only when that mission has been completed. When mankind no longer needs our services, when they have outgrown us… that is when we must disband ourselves.”
“I cannot tell you if that will be to a new Star League or some other body. I cannot tell you when or where, only that I hope that our work with the current alliance claiming the legacy of the Star League will lay its foundations.”
For a moment she thought she had them, but then Buckley cleared his throat. “And I am sure that this is in no sense self-interested, Primus Rong?”
She wanted to slap the self-righteous man across the face. He had openly sought office to advance his own agenda and now he wanted to act as if she was in some way immoral.
“Precentor…” Her voice was icy. “If that day were to come in my lifetime, much less my time of office, I would be relieved. I could go out and get laid without a security cordon, for one thing.”
Several of the Precentors went red.
“If you wish to propose a measure to break off our services and place them under the administration of the Council,” she continued, “May I ask what the fate would be of the many enclaves currently under our governance? Are they handed over to the rulers of the worlds they are on, even though most of the population have made it clear that they have no desire for that? Or would you rather they are placed under the direct rule of the Council, open to the exploitation of the Great Houses in the same way that the Star League handled what were the Territorial States during the 28th century.”
“Those claims were grossly exaggerated,” protested Tiger Lily.
“They really weren’t,” Wei disagreed. “There is a reason that one of the Magestrix’s protests of her people’s treatment said that even a whore should be able to expect payment for her services. And the Magistracy did better than the Alliance or the Concordat out of the Star League. Ask the leaders of those realms how they were treated back in the day, Tiger Lily. And then ask if you want Terra to be ruled on those terms!”
There was no further complaint from Precentor Atreus and Wei looked around the room.
“I swear to you, I have no greater wish to tell you that Blake’s vision has been fulfilled. We have the right to hope - we may be closer than we have been in all of our history to that moment. But we are in early days and we have the duty to be prepared if those hopes fail us - prepared to dig in and start again, to do whatever we must to bring mankind out of the dark ages, whether that is in our lifetime or a thousand years ago.”
“Between you and me,” Rachel Orchard said drily. “I would rather not wait that long.”
Wei relaxed her shoulders and rested one elbow on the podium. “I have a few things on my own bucket list, Rachel. But we are drifting a little off topic.”
She turned back to Trent Hone. “If you want to put a measure forward, Precentor St Ives, then that is your right. But we are a long way from being ready to do what you propose. Quite honestly, the Clans have given us a golden chance to lay the foundations for the future we want by providing an outside enemy. But the original Star League wasn’t built on fighting the Reunification War, and since it only lasted for a couple of centuries, maybe we should try to do a bit better this time.”
Dali, Tamar
Clan Wolf Occupation Zone
20 March 3057
Ulric had been hoping to get some rest. The Ghost Bears weren’t usually dramatic but Theresa Delvillar was less phlegmatic than her predecessor - poor Karl Bourjon had been forced to stand down after losing the two Leviathan-class battleships, even though it wasn’t remotely his fault. There had been two conversations so far with the new Khan and he was hoping that her slightly less intense saKhan would handle the next one.
What did she expect him to do? Compensate her for the fortune of resources the Ghost Bears had sunk into the ships? Ulric’s Clan needed all their resources for the herculean efforts to build up shipyards to build a fleet to match the Inner Spheres. He’d be deposed if he even suggested it to the Clan Council.
The comm unit pinged and Ulric set aside readiness reports for the attack on Rasalhague to accept the call. At least that was almost ready to begin - a way to blood the younger warriors and hopefully win over more of the population of the occupied worlds.
“Khan Delvillar again?” he asked. “Or is someone attacking us.” He almost hoped for the latter, it would be therapeutic to get in his Gargoyle and introduce someone to the wrong end of its weapons.
Star Captain Katya Kerensky’s voice came through the comm-unit. “Neg, sir. Khan Schmitt requests an immediate conversation by HPG. She is currently waiting to be put through.”
Ulric checked he was presentable. “Put her through.” This had to be about the Zeerga, he thought. It was only two days since the forces left on Eden had jumped out.
The tall blonde Khan appeared opposite Ulric’s desk, wearing a simple jumpsuit marked only by her Clan’s badge on the shoulders and rank pins on the collar. “Where are they?” she demanded, without preliminary.
“Greetings, Khan Schmitt. I see that you are well,” he replied. “What leads you to contact me so abruptly?”
Her eyes narrowed dangerously. “Greetings, Khan Kerensky. I do not particularly care if you are well and I would appreciate an answer to my question.”
“Ah. Well, if you could let me know who ‘they’ are then I will do my best to help, out of my commitment to the unity of the Clans, if not any particular fondness for you.”
Schmitt growled under her breath. “I am looking for Clan Zeerga,” she said in a clipped tone.
Ulric nodded understandingly. “That was my first guess but I didn’t want to assume. They have only enclaves on Eden and on Strana Mechty, quiaff.”
“I am on Eden!” she snapped. “They are not here!”
“The population of the enclave there is about fifteen million, I believe,” he replied somewhat skeptically.
Schmitt ran one hand through her hair. “There are plenty of civilians here, but a complete absence of warriors except for police warriors who are somewhat below even my low expectations of the Zeerga. Probably because any who had value are also missing.”
He nodded again. “This is the first I’ve heard of it. No clusters of warriors, no warships?” When she glared at him, Ulric shrugged. “Could you start at the beginning?”
The other Khan exhaled heavily. “My forces, along with those of Clan Snow Raven and Clan Fire Mandrill, arrived over Eden yesterday and issued a challenge. There was no reply so we landed and marched on the cities, which are entirely undefended. The Zeerga had apparently been loading ships since the start of year and the moment your forces left Eden, they launched their last dropships and - I assume - jumped out. The civilians cannot tell us, because they were not left with any traffic control systems to monitor them.”
Ulric said nothing for a moment, castigating himself for not having the Watch do more to keep track of what the Zeerga were doing. It was not that they had not tried, but the Zeerga on Eden had been aggressively isolationist except for their attacks on the other Clans. Such diplomacy as they enacted had been on Strana Mechty…
“I assume that you have tried contacting them on Strana Mechty?”
Schmitt’s lips pulled back. “Yes, Kerensky, I have. No one has seen a Zeerga warrior or a senior scientist, or most of the civilians who would directly support the touman in days.”
Ulric steepled his fingers. “That is concerning. It is a complete surprise to me. I suppose that if the enclaves are undefended then your clans are free to divide them up between yourselves.” It pained him, but there was nothing he could do to reclaim them at this point.
“Oh believe me, we will do that,” Schmitt told him. “But that does not avenge the losses we have taken to your discards.”
“That’s for you to decide,” Ulric agreed, “Now that we have withdrawn our protection, I cannot claim to have any say in the matter.”
“Then where are they!” she shouted.
Ulric sighed heavily. “If they are smart, they are headed for some remote world where they can wait until tempers cool and they have the numbers to survive without my Clan’s protection. Since we are discussing Marialle Radick and Vladimir Ward, it seems more likely that they are somewhere on the Exodus Road.” On their way to take their revenge on me for their exile.
Schmitt glared at him again. It was hard to tell, given her usual expression but he had known her for several years.
“I am not sure what you expect me to do about this,” he said honestly. “I am six months away and have no means to communicate with them.” Not that they were likely to listen to him. “If you would like to send me more detailed information then we can look at it and see if it sheds any light on their plans.”
The woman nodded grudgingly.
“I do not suppose we can buy Jaghatais from whoever ends up with the factory?” he asked, on the grounds that it could hardly hurt to try.
Schmitt snorted irritably.
“They took the factory as well,” he guessed.
“They emptied every military factory,” the Blood Spirit Khan told him. “The orbital facilities are hollow shells without even life support and every military supply stored anywhere, down to the oldest Brian Cache. We know now why they captured the Bears’ follies. They needed the lift capacity.”
Mount Asgard, Tharkad
Donegal March, Federated Commonwealth
4 April 3057
Mount Asgard had been the center of Lyran military command since before the establishment of the Star League. As the name suggested, the facilities were buried deep under a mountain to the north of the capital, secure against orbital bombardment and with the entrances fortified against command raids up to and including small ‘mech units.
The basic logic was very similar to that which lay behind the Fox’s Den, buried in the mountains behind Mount Davion on New Avalon. Having spent time at both, Victor thought that that the main difference was that for centuries House Davion had exercised their influence over planning consent for the mountains to prevent any further civilian presence in the region under various pretenses. The mountains around the Fox’s Den contained small villages and some visitor centers for national parks in the more scenic valleys.
The foothills of Mount Asgard contained several towns whose economies were largely built around the comfort and entertainment of the officers working there, as well as numerous expensive homes that benefited from the optimistic idea that this was the most secure place on Tharkad… as opposed to the most vital battlefield in the event of an invasion.
Victor would have liked to advocate a switch towards more austere surroundings for Mount Asgard, but not only would it affect several tens of thousands of people’s livelihoods, one of the expensive houses in the area belonged to him and he was living in it rather than the Triad or Tharkad City.
Perhaps he would try and find money in the budget for another military command center one day and just start over.
In the meantime, he found himself in one of the elaborately decorated conference rooms as the staff outlined what they could expect for Operation Sapphire. Victor didn’t really mind the decorations - the staff had to work here and being buried underground for your entire working day probably wasn’t all that welcome. Making the rooms pleasant was a trivial expense to offset that.
As a Kommandant-General and the heir to the throne, Victor had a seat on the main table rather than the ring of secondary positions around them. His only real complaint about the matter was that it left him in proximity to General the duke of Porrima Ryan Steiner, his second cousin once-removed. While he didn’t begrudge Ryan the pilot’s wings, which had been honestly earned some thirty years ago, the general’s rank badge was more debatable.
The AFFC didn’t have a rank of general, so Ryan’s use of old Lyran insignia made his political stance rather clear. In addition, the pilot’s last active post had been with the rank of hauptmann and he certainly had not worked his way up the ranks. His credibility in claiming the rank rested on the fact that he was a duke and that he was married to Morasha Kelswa-Steiner, the heiress to the lost worlds of the Tamar March which in theory let her appoint him as commander of their non-existent military forces.
“In summary, our leading estimation is that the four Clans occupying Federated Commonwealth worlds have eight galaxies each in the Inner Sphere,” the intelligence officer reported. “Strengths vary, but on average the assessment of their fighting power is that a galaxy is roughly equivalent to two RCTs reinforced by a third battlemech regiment. To fight them on level terms, much less to overwhelm them would in theory require sixty-four RCTs and thirty-two additional ‘mech regiments.”
“That would be a large force,” Ryan observed sharply, “But as I recall the Armed Forces of the Federated Commonwealth still number at least twice that level of force. Combined with even modest efforts to take the initiative on our part, it should be simple to overwhelm part of the Clans’ forces and crush them in detail.”
Victor leant forwards. “Even with current alliances we have, we can’t strip all of our borders,” he observed and then turned to the operations officer who was next on the list to deliver a presentation. “How many forces can we free up for offensive actions?”
The officer accepted the electronic baton that conferred control of the holographic displays. “Allowing for other commitments, planning is for sixty-five AFFC or affiliated commands of regimental or greater strength to be deployed along this half of the Clan front. This represents approximately one-third of the AFFC’s frontline forces and mercenary contractors.”
“How many of those commands are RCTs?” asked one of the officers on the outer ring.
“Forty-one. A higher mix was considered but deemed unfeasible given the level of shipping needed to move each RCT.”
Ryan scowled. “Sixty-five commands out of the projected ninety-six needed to liberate our citizens. The gap is rather obvious.”
“Operation Sapphire will commit approximately half of these forces to offensive action,” the operations officer continued, “Supported by fifteen brigade-sized units provided by our allies, this is expected to be enough to achieve local superiority of both numbers and fighting strength across a multi-world front.”
“And what will the other half of the forces be doing?” Ryan demanded.
“Let the man finish, Ryan,” Victor warned the older man.
His cousin turned and glared at him, the two Steiners locking eyes for a long moment as everyone else fell silent, watching.
Victor knew he lacked the Duke of Porrima’s experience in politics, but found the steely eyes far less intimidating than he did the guns of the Clans. “Continue,” he ordered, not breaking eye-contact.
Ryan scowled and looked back towards the operations officer as the man explained: “Task Force Sapphire Two will be holding defensive positions around Coventry, Tharkad and other key worlds in the event that the Clans respond with a renewed offensive against the Federated Commonwealth.”
“The best defense of those worlds is a strong offense,” the duke grumbled.
“The regiments will also provide a reserve of forces that can be committed to replace exhausted troops without having to call on the central reserve of troops in the Isle of Skye and Dieron military district,” Xerxes Davion clarified coldly. Another distant cousin, this time of his father, Marshal Davion was the most senior officer present by status, if not rank, deputizing for his immediate superior - the head of the entire Lyran State Command.
Normally Nondi Steiner or Morgan Hasek-Davion would be present for this. The latter was on Terra, handling preparations to take command of Task Force Emerald - the central reserve that Xerxes had mentioned. Only Victor and a few others knew that Nondi’s cancellation was for medical reasons. His great-aunt’s health had never really recovered from injuries in 3039 and she’d been ordered two days of bed-rest after almost collapsing during a meeting with the Archon.
“And how many of our regiments will be provided to a force that will no doubt be defending the Combine from their own ineptitude?” Ryan inquired imperiously.
“Nineteen,” Victor told him. “About half of them - and they will be defending your home if that becomes necessary, Ryan.” If Clan Wolf and Clan Smoke Jaguar, both of whom had had years to recover from Camlann, pushed for Terra then Porrima would be right in their path.
“I concede the necessity,” the older Steiner allowed graciously. “A breakthrough there or a Combine collapse would certainly be problematic. So, given that we are limited to a local offensive, that offensive must be employed to best effect - a push through the Koniz and Kelenfold operational areas would liberate a number of strategically valuable worlds such as Sudeten.” He smiled suddenly, turning on the charm. “I admit that it would be optimistic to talk of liberating Tamar at this early stage, but threatening the Wolves’ flank would force them to divert forces from any offensive deeper into the Inner Sphere.”
Xerxes gestured for the Operations officer to stand down. “The Strategy and Tactics board have narrowed our options to three operations plans. Operation Sapphire Alpha would involve trying to cut off the Jade Falcon and Nova Cat forces around Arcturus by pushing to take worlds along a line from Arc-Royal to Benfeld before eliminating the pocket of worlds. In the event that Operation Ruby shows promise against Clan Smoke Jaguar this would raise the possibility of bringing forward Task Force Emerald to hammer Clan Wolf’s frontline forces from three directions.”
“That sounds ideal,” Ryan declared. “Liberating Arcturus wouldn’t be quite as good for morale as Tamar, but I am sure the Arcturan Guards would be highly motivated by such a victory.”
“True, which is why Arcturus is a target for secondary operations in both of the alternatives,” Victor agreed.
His cousin didn’t quite twitch at the reminder that Victor had already been informed of much of this part of the briefing. Being assigned to Strategy and Tactics after Incukalns had given him a chance to play a part in drawing up the plans, rather than it being a perk of his birth but let Ryan assume that if he wanted.
“Would you like to take over?” Xerxes asked in a reprimanding tone. Victor wasn’t that much junior to him in rank but he was certainly the youngest person in the room.
“Of course, sir,” Victor said cheekily and held out his hand for the baton.
There were a couple of chuckles and the marshal shook his head ruefully before letting Victor have control of the holodisplay. Really, Victor thought, Xerxes wasn’t all that much younger than Aunt Nondi - not retirement age but there was definitely need for fresh blood at the top of Lyran State Command.
“Operation Sapphire Beta is more focused on pushing back our defensive depth around Tharkad,” he explained, bringing up the map indicating where attacks would fall. “The goal would be to take the Steel Viper and Jade Falcon worlds between New Capetown, Morges and Odessa, leaving Clan Nova Cat with a long border to protect. The theory is that the Nova Cats will be willing to allow the other Clans to lose territory without involving themselves unless they’re directly attacked. Cooperation between the Clans is almost always problematic for them, and the Nova Cats would be hesitant to open the worlds their occupying as staging areas for their rivals.”
“That doesn’t mean that they won’t try to claim the worlds for themselves,” Ryan pointed out. “And politics makes strange bedfellows so assumptions like that could catch us out badly.”
You would know about politics, Ryan. But Victor acknowledged the point gracefully. “As it happens, I agree with you. The operation would let us dominate the center of the border but we’d obviously threaten the Nova Cats no matter where we went from there, so I would expect them to respond aggressively. For this reason, I don’t personally favor Sapphire Beta.”
That got a few looks, as officers were supposed to at least pretend to be objective about proposed operations plans. Victor didn’t see the point: if he didn’t have an opinion why was he being asked to contribute to the planning?
“Our final option is Sapphire Gamma.” The map shifted to the anti-spinwards edge of the occupation zone. “This would be an attack focused on Clan Steel Viper’s occupied worlds - particularly the region between Kowloon and Qanatir. Our goal would be to destroy all of the Steel Viper forces in the Inner Sphere, leaving them no staging areas to resume their operations. Hitting their supply bases on Inarcs and the two periphery worlds would be high priorities.”
“That is a long way from anywhere important,” Ryan grumbled. “Why is it even a consideration?”
“Balance of forces,” Victor told him. “The Steel Vipers are the Clan most likely to be hung out to dry by their neighbors. Their closest allies are in the homeworlds or the far end of the occupation zone, so if we focus our efforts on them then we can reasonably overwhelm them with local superiority - Task Force Sapphire One can bring fifty commands to bear against just eight galaxies which would be heavily in our favor.” He highlighted other worlds around the Steel Vipers. “From there we can clear up adjacent Nova Cat and Jade Falcon holdings, and that leaves us in the strategic position of having turned their flank.”
“I can’t believe that you think liberating a few nowhere worlds along the periphery is as viable as striking for core worlds that date back to the founding of the Commonwealth. Half of that region used to be part of the Rim Worlds Republic!”
“Something that the Steel Vipers are well aware of,” Victor snapped back. “Have you seen the reports of what’s being done to our citizens there?”
A hush fell over the room and few people met his eyes.
“Strategically,” Xerxes observed in the quiet, “all three options have their merits and flaws. The success of the Donegal Guards in taking Incukalns means that a similar operation to retake Arcturus will be scheduled for later this year. The Archon has made this a priority and I intend to allocate two RCTs of the Arcturan Guards to the attack, drawing from units that are planned to join Task Force Sapphire Two. Given the Jade Falcons’ reported conservatism, the attack will follow Clan rules in order to minimize losses.”
“Is this really the time for half-measures?” someone asked.
“Probing attacks like this will gauge the enemy’s readiness,” Xerxes told him. “New Capetown is also under consideration for an attack of this nature. If the Clans fall into a pattern of expecting us to use their own customs then there is a better chance of catching them off guard when we assault them next year. Wherever we strike, the goal must be to crush a significant portion of their units in the area before they can respond. I am aware that this isn’t an ideal situation, but we know that all the Clans are trying to bolster their forces in the Inner Sphere.”
“I thought they had to breed their warriors from childhood,” Ryan objected.
“They breed up trueborn warriors,” Victor told him. “Not every Clan depends on that though - some are recruiting from their civilian population and a few have started to recruit from the occupied worlds. We have a shrinking window to deal with the Clans, we need to be thinking not just of this offensive but also how we follow up from it.”
-
Hmmm... I wonder if Victor will convince them to go with Gamma...
-
I like Gamma... take out a Clan to make a point. Wonder who'll win the bidding to absorb them?
-
Steel Vipers don't use freeborn warriors so they would have a hard time absorbing heavy casualties. With time they might realize their mistake and gradually start using the despised freebirths, so they ought to be struck as soon as possible, perhaps their defeat and weakening can induce a feeding frenzy in the homeworlds.
-
Steel Vipers don't use freeborn warriors so they would have a hard time absorbing heavy casualties. With time they might realize their mistake and gradually start using the despised freebirths, so they ought to be struck as soon as possible, perhaps their defeat and weakening can induce a feeding frenzy in the homeworlds.
Since the Vipers are bit bias towards freeborns to begin with, they deserve whatever bad things are coming to them happen them..
-
Opalescent Reflections
Full House
Chapter 6
Yamashiro, New Samarkand
Diamond Shark Dominion
21 May 3057
Ace had barely been an adult when he first met Abigail Enders and he knew that the years since then had changed him a great deal. The head of his Bloodhouse looked as if she’d been pared back to skin, sinew and bones by long days and short nights.
“Are you getting enough sleep?” he asked when she entered his office.
“What is sleep?” the Watch officer asked with a straight-face.
“That sounds like a no to me,” Ace concluded. If she was actually joking then she must be wrung out - Abigail wasn’t noted for humor, or for much of anything. It was one reason she’d slid out of active service in the Burrock touman and ended up in their Watch.
That was the way most of the Clans ‘recruited’ their intelligence specialists and it really showed. Ace hadn’t visited the ISF headquarters on New Samarkand - no one with any sense would, given the mess that was left of it after bombardment and the use of demolition options that violated several clauses of the Ares Conventions - but everything that he’d heard about the organization made it clear that the Inner Sphere spent far more resources on information gathering and it paid off for them.
The Star Colonel sat down without waiting for an invitation. “Do you want the good news or the bad news?”
“Is this a joke where you tell me that the bad news is the absence of good news - or the reverse?”
“I am not so far gone as to make jokes like that,” the woman replied and then paused. “I will remember it for later, when I want someone to shoot me.”
“Would you like some coffee?”
“Aff. No sugar, no tea and make it strong,” she affirmed.
While Ace used the coffee machine hidden in a discreet cabinet of his office, he saw Abigail opening her attache case. “The good news is about your bondsman Michel.”
“He is not a bondsman any more,” Ace corrected.
“It keeps things straight in my head, he is not the only Michel whose file crossed my desk,” Abigail told him. “Anyway, he won the grand melee for his bloodname.”
“Excellent!” The former Steel Viper was back in the homeworlds to compete for a bloodname. Ace missed the other warrior, who had matured into a good officer. He had few enough friends and having one spend more than a year away had left a gap that he hadn’t expected.
Abigail eyed the mug he offered her. “What is this?”
“You asked for black coffee.”
She sniffed it and then took a gulp from the cup. “I asked you to make it stronger.”
“That’s as strong as the machine will make it.”
Abigail sighed. “Truly we are at the far edges of civilization. Your bondsman tried to talk the Steel Vipers into musketeer rules but they are not as gullible as the Burrocks you were dealing with then.”
Ace snorted. “I doubt the Steel Vipers are as angry at him as Felipe’s faction were with me.”
“He has not yet killed his house leader, so probably not.” She shook her head and gulped from the mug again. “So much for the good news.”
Going back behind his desk, Ace slumped into his seat. “That was quick.”
“There wasn’t very much,” Abigail told him. “Did you hear about the Zeerga disappearance?”
“Three galaxies of troops, eight warships and a huge supply train vanishing? Have they been found?” The entire matter seemed very far away but Ace did have occasional worries about what he might have to do if they turned up suddenly near New Samarkand.
Abigail shook her head. “Seven warships,” she corrected him. “The hulk of one of the cruisers was found one jump from Eden, apparently stripped for parts. It must have taken a while because the Snow Ravens are fuming that they could have caught the Zeerga there if they had scouted the system in time instead of rushing down the Exodus Road trying to catch up.”
Ace frowned. “One jump towards the Inner Sphere?”
“Spinward,” she told him. “Not that it means anything much, since they could have gone anywhere from there.”
“That is interesting but it is not the real bad news, quiaff?”
“Aff, the Zeerga are not the only disappearance.”
He closed his eyes for a moment. “Do I need to bribe you with stronger coffee to get the full story?”
“I was not planning on it,” the Star Colonel said with a certain manic edge to her voice, “but if you have been holding out on me then I will insist.”
“Not holding out, but I can be inventive.” Ace pushed his chair back and went back to the coffee machine, filling it past the top with ground coffee beans. “This will either give us a stronger coffee or wreck the machine,” he predicted.
“I am willing to take the risk,” Abigail told him and drained her mug. “In token of your good intentions,” she continued, “The khans of the Ice Hellions and the Hell’s Horses have not been seen in person for several weeks and their forces seem to be spread thinner than usual. Our estimates are that they may have pulled as many as three galaxies out of their normal deployments.”
“Three galaxies… in total?” he asked, giving the coffee machine the bare minimum of attention.
“Each,” Abigail corrected him tersely.
Ace whistled and then stepped back nervously as black liquid spat itself out of the coffee maker into the mug he’d put under it. “I get the impression this should be handled with tongs,” he muttered, eyeing it.
Clan Hell’s Horses had about nine galaxies as far as he recalled, but the Ice Hellions were one of the smallest Clans - three galaxies would be almost half their total strength. What could spur them to move such a force in secret?
Once Ace had cautiously retrieved the mug and handed it to Abigail she took a sip and grimaced.
“Too strong, quiaff?”
“Neg,” she assured him. “This is perfect.” She looked more alert, although Ace suspected he’d be doing her a favor if he ordered her to the medical center for a complete physical. Then again, they’d probably try to keep her from drinking more coffee and then he’d need to request new medics…
Ace settled back in his chair. “How long have the Hellions and Horses been on the move?”
“Long enough to have reached anywhere in the homeworlds,” Abigail told him. “Now, there are states out there between us and the homeworlds - more towards the Falcons, Vipers and Cats’s occupation zones but they exist. It is possible they are going to conquer one of those.”
“But it’s more likely they’re planning to come all the way to the Inner Sphere.”
She nodded. “Ulric Kerensky is moving reserves away from the Inner Sphere border. He has claimed to have no inside knowledge of the Zeerga, but if he expects them to attack the Wolves occupation zone that would make sense.”
Ace rested his elbows on the desk. “But we have the largest Occupation Zone and the coreward edge has garrisons that are barely enough to fight off pirates and pin down insurrections. We are just as likely to be the target, quiaff?”
“Aff. Khan Sennet is pulling the available Spina Galaxies off our supply lines to give us more of a reaction force.” Abigail shook her head. “It could be problematic if someone goes after our convoys, but…”
“They are sending too many forces for that to be the whole plan,” he agreed. “So late this year or perhaps early next year, we may have to defend our dominion from other Clans. I only hope that House Kurita and House Avellar lack the support from the other Great Houses to catch us from the other end.”
“Our best information suggests that their so-called Star League Council expects only to launch limited attacks,” the Watch officer told him.
“I suspect that any restraint will be short-lived if they find themselves with easy victories,” Ace pointed out. “We need to find ways to make sure that we look like too tough a nut to be cracked.”
Unity City, North America
Terra, Sol System
13 June 3057
The heads of the great houses were meeting in the same large hall that had been used before. Despite some improvements, it was still much less grandiose than the original Court of the Star League (which was now safe for guided tours, though not for long-term use). Wei could probably have come up with some symbolic explanation for the hall being lit only by aide’s noteputers, the central holo display and spotlights but the truth was that it was mostly because the room was bare of any decoration besides dimly illuminated banners above and behind each delegation.
Mitchell Avellar and Jeffrey Calderon had each updated their wardrobes slightly to reflect that they no longer represented their fathers. Thomas Calderon had abdicated earlier in the year - totally of his own volition and in no sense due to a number of intense conversations with representatives of the TDF and a dozen planetary governors. In contrast, Neil Avellar had barely waited for his son to return from the last meeting. The night after Mitchell returned to Alpheratz, the President of the Outworlds Alliance joined his wife on a shuttle to a hired jumpship, leaving a letter of resignation on his desk. No one had seen the jumpship since it left Alpheratz, which made the senior Avellar’s location a mystery that conspiracy writers were already speculating about.
“We appear to be missing someone,” Chancellor Liao observed once the formal pleasantries had been completed. “Is the Fox visiting a henhouse somewhere, Archon?”
Melissa Steiner-Davion smiled serenely. “With our Marshal of Armies here to oversee the coordination of operations against the Clans, Hanse is taking a closer hand in AFFC leadership. The advantage of our shared rule is that this frees me to focus on diplomacy. I have his authority to speak for the Federated Suns as well as my own realm. I trust that this is satisfactory?”
For all its power, the Federated Commonwealth remained an alliance at the moment. The legal union would take place when Victor Steiner-Davion inherited, and thus both House Steiner and House Davion currently claimed separate seats on the council. It didn’t matter too much while matters were being settled as a matter of consensus, but if anyone tried to push for a vote then it could be problematic.
The younger of the two Liao rulers smiled thinly. “If Prince Davion considers himself more of a military leader than an elder statesman than who am I to second-guess him?” he said with what appeared to be humility.
“The first point of our agenda is the status of this Council,” Wei declared, to cut short any further sniping.
Thomas Marik gave her a thoughtful look. “In what sense do you mean?”
She turned slightly to face the scarred Captain-General. “The assumption has grown since our previous meetings that this body is convening as a continuation of the previous Star League Council, that is as the supreme authority over the Star League.”
Minoru Kurita adjusted his spectacles. “I see no problem with that.”
“I see one,” Mitchell Avellar disagreed. “In that case, half of those present would have no right to a vote here. Three of our realms were conquests of the Star League, not voting members - and two of us represent states that did not even exist at the time.”
The Coordinator pursed his lips. “My apologies. That is a solid point, I can only excuse myself by saying that I had never considered that you would not have every reason to speak and vote as I do.”
The young president shook his head slightly. “No offense was taken, Coordinator. The fact that there has been no suggestion of asserting those precedents is one of the arguments that allows myself, the Protector and the Magistrix to participate without alienating our own people.”
“That is the first of two reasons,” Wei acknowledged. “The second is that the original Star League Council stood at the apex of a large and complex bureaucracy that was shattered by the Amaris Civil War and the Succession Wars. All of us have inherited parts of that organization, buts we could not quickly reassemble it even if the political will existed.”
“Which it does not,” Jeffrey said quietly. “I would return to Taurus to find my father reinstated if the Star League attempted to assert the control it once did over our worlds.”
“I don’t disagree,” the Marik observed, “but what do you suggest, Primus?”
“A formal statement of purpose to clarify the matter.” She touched a control, sending the document to each of them. “This is only a draft, of course.”
Wei watched as the document was read. It didn’t take long, since it was intentionally concise.
“I see,” Sun-Tzu Liao was the first to speak. “So we are forming a Star League, rather than reviving the Star League. A neat distinction.” He stroked his chin. “This may be invalidated since it is clear enough not to require a legal team to interpret it.”
“I assure you, lawyers will be tearing the phrasing apart no matter what we do,” Melissa commented before turning to Wei. “This places the former Star League formally in abeyance?”
“Saving for the adoption of the original’s heraldry, yes. ‘One Species, One Realm’ was a catchy phrase for Ian Cameron but it was written in blood,” she replied. “ComStar would not be willing to adopt a policy of universal conquest.” Not while she was in charge, anyway.
Candace Liao looked up. “A ‘voluntary alliance to provide for mutual defense and for the mediation of conflicting interests between members’,” she quoted. “What if a nation wishes to withdraw? Or another wishes to join?
“I would think that the right to withdraw should be automatic,” Calderon told her. “As for admission - a vote of the Council?” Secretaries around the room were making notes.
“Naturally, I do not expect anyone to sign this until it has been refined to everyone’s satisfaction,” Wei confirmed.
There was a laugh and eyes went to Emma Centrella, who was politely covering her mouth. “And such an elegant end to the Succession Wars.”
Eyebrows rose and then Melissa Steiner-Davion also laughed. “Yes, if the old Star League is placed in abeyance then everyone signing the treaty will be voiding their claims to be First Lord of it.”
Thomas Marik looked disgruntled at the prospect. The claim to be First Lord was part of the Captain-General’s primacy over the Free Worlds League. “There would be a benefit to there being a single voice to the… new Star League. There is a reason that all our realms have a single ruler, rather than leaving a council or assembly as the supreme authority.”
“I believe I made it clear that I would withdraw entirely from this if someone tried to claim the post of First Lord,” the Magestrix warned, voice flat as she looked over at her neighbor.
Jeffrey Calderon nodded firmly. “I would do the same, and I think even the Inner Sphere would look poorly on such a claim.”
The Captain-General shook his head. “I am not suggesting that one of us be elevated above the others in the same way as House Cameron. However, the new Star League would be more credible if it had a spokesperson. Someone to mediate our meetings and take the lead in announcing our decisions to the galaxy.”
“A Speaker, if you will,” suggested the Archon drily.
“It works for my Parliament and your Estates General,” Marik pointed out.
Sun-Tzu Liao glanced around the room, seeing mixed feelings. “A Council Chairman or Chairperson, perhaps,” he suggested. “We could elect one for two years, the same way we are choosing a Commanding General.”
“Visiting Terra on a regular basis is problematic for those of us whose homeworlds are further away,” Avellar observed quietly, giving Wei an apologetic look. “Despite ComStar’s hospitality, it is probable that if this council is an enduring one that some of us will attend remotely or that a vote may have to be carried out without direct meetings. Having a designated spokesman to coordinate such votes would have some value as long as it was understood they had none of the military authority of the First Lord, nor the ability to break ties.”
That got hesitant nods from around the room. “If we do not elect someone, that would largely leave such activities to Primus Rong,” Melissa pointed out, “Which would be clearly too much to ask of her. If everyone is amenable to the election of a Council Chair, then I nominate Emma Centrella.”
The Magestrix’s expression briefly betrayed complete stupefaction. “I am honored,” she began hesitantly.
“I second,” Avellar interrupted. “You are the best person here to set an example of restraint in the role.”
“Does anyone oppose?” asked Wei formally. She wasn’t going to vote against the motion, as long as she wasn’t the one being asked to do the work. A Council Chair without the options for abuse held by the First Lords was a promising step.
“All in favor?” asked Candace Liao, raising her hand.
Only Thomas Marik and Minoru Kurita hesitated, which yielded a solid majority but so far everything had been done by consensus. Minoru Kurita looked thoughtful for a moment and then shook his head. “It is a reasonable compromise.” He added his hand.
“Let the vote be recorded as unanimous,” Thomas Marik intoned solemnly. “In establishing a full charter for our Council, we will need to make a clear distinction between the issues that can be settled by majority and which require a consensus.”
“I will be happy to hand that matter over to our new Chair,” Wei agreed happily. “We will need to re-arrange the tables.” At last, she would be able to sit down during these meetings and have someone else behind the podium.”
“I’m sure that can be done over lunch,” Centrella observed drily. “In the meantime, what is the next subject for voting?”
“Nominations for a Commanding General to take over next summer,” she announced. “We do have almost a year, but given they will be taking over during the counter-offensives we don’t want to leave that decision to the last minute. They’ll need to take over smoothly, so whoever is chosen they’ll need to understudy the Precentor-Martial for at least a month in advance.”
“Nominations now and a vote no later than the end of the year,” Centrella suggested. “We are relatively thin on military experience within the Council, but I would prefer that we have a candidate lined up before the counteroffensive takes place…”
Camora, Twycross
Clan Jade Falcon Occupation Zone
7 July 3057
Aidan had to fight to keep his temper from exploding as he followed Elias Crichell to the latter’s office. It wouldn’t help to sway the old Khan and doing so in public would be a loss of face.
Once the door closed behind them, the senior Khan of the Jade Falcons held up one hand to forestall any comments. He went to his desk and produced a small device that clicked and hissed as he waved it around apparently casually. After a moment, Crichell dropped it back on the desk. “According to Pershaw’s technicians, that would have detected any surveillance devices,” he explained, taking his seat.
“Where is mine?” Aidan inquired bluntly.
“On order. Ask Pershaw if you want a schedule, they are apparently not easily acquired. Also, the more people who have them, the greater chance that our enemies find out about them and work out a counter.” Crichell sat back in his chair. “That is not why you want to talk to me, quineg?”
“The Federated Commonwealth has broken the truce that they made after Coventry,” Aidan pointed out. “First on Incukalns and now on Arcturus.”
“True,” Crichell said crisply. “You propose that we resume our invasion, quiaff?”
“Neg.” Aidan took the seat facing the desk without asking for permission. “We are not ready and the Nova Cats, at least, seem willing to overlook the matter.”
That got an approving nod. “And while the Steel Vipers might be willing to act, they would not cooperate with us, most likely to hope to use our own actions as a diversion. We will remember this dishonor but our revenge will have to wait.”
“I disagree.”
“I believe you just conceded that a resumed offensive was unfeasible.”
Aidan gripped the arms of the chair. “That does not mean that we should let this challenge pass unchecked. Arcturus has not yet fallen. We have enough shipping to move the Gyrfalcon Galaxy to Arcturus by command circuit in three weeks. A sudden, decisive response will show them that we are not a soft target.”
Crichell inhaled slowly. “Poor strategy, Aidan. They are testing our strength, seeing how we have rebuilt from our losses. I have no doubt that you would be victorious, but it would show our hand - you play poker?”
Aidan shook his head. “Rarely.”
“Some other card game?”
“Not really.”
“Learn,” the aged Khan ordered flatly. “It is a useful skill. It is never wise to reveal one’s strength until one is ready to use it. They are testing our strength and we will test theirs. The winner will not be whoever holds Arcturus - though if we lose that world it should not fall easily. The winner will be the one who learns most about their enemy.”
Aidan frowned. “‘Conceal your dispositions, and your condition will remain secret, which leads to victory; show your dispositions, and your condition will become patent, which leads to defeat’,” he quoted from a book Horse had found in a local library while he was convalescing.
Crichell paused and considered the words. “A quote from the Great Father?” he asked, “It does not sound like the Founder.”
“An older source, a previous military thinker I found reference to in the writings of the Great Father,” Aidan prevaricated.
“It is poorly phrased but it is accurate,” the older man concurred. “A full force counterattack as you describe would probably succeed but it would let them see how strong the Gyrfalcon Galaxy is compared to its state on Coventry. And while I think it is unlikely, they might even go as far to try to use their warships to isolate and destroy your force. It is better to keep our response proportionate.”
“And what do you suggest would be proportionate?” he asked.
Crichell smirked. “We will reinforce the garrison with detachments from other clusters, primarily made up of our less experienced warriors. Enough to keep the FedCom from winning or at least from winning quickly, while at the same time blooding them against the Inner Sphere. We have seen already that our warriors sometimes need time to adapt to such honorless opponents, this will give them the chance to experience it under relatively low stakes conditions.”
As much as Aidan didn’t want to admit it, the other Khan had a good point. “Then may I suggest starting with detachments from Gyrfalcon Galaxy’s clusters? We have not even faced raids recently.”
But Crichell shook his head. “It would not do for you to hog the glory. One detachment from Gyrfalcon but the other galaxies must have the chance, quiaff?”
“Aff,” Aidan conceded. “Very well, but I will go there to oversee them and see who is learning the most. We need officers as well as warriors.”
“Neg,” the Khan told him. “Your place is here at our command center, overseeing the big picture.”
“Our command center is nine jumps from the frontlines,” he challenged, pushing himself out of his chair. “Keeping a frontline galaxy here is already a waste and now you are keeping me from providing any leadership to the Clan. What is so important about this world? There are any number of better choices!”
There was a long moment as the two glared at each other. Surprisingly, it was Crichell that looked away first. “The answer to that is known to very few and your presence here is insurance against it becoming better known.”
Aidan’s mind raced as he tried to work out what it was. “If I am being held here to guard your secret then I need to know what it is, Elias.” And if it is something dishonorable, I will need even more to know the truth.”
“What is the one thing that we cannot replace here in the Inner Sphere?” the bearded khan asked rhetorically. “Factories are already being retooled to reduce our dependence on shipping, here and on other worlds. Simple materials are in abundance. Even warriors can be found here - freeborn for now, but in time we will have iron wombs and sibkos… some of the other Clans have already begun such work.”
Aidan thought about it. “You said simple materials, so… those that are not simple.”
“Correct,” Crichell smacked the desk with the flat of his hand. “One in particular, vital for constructing and repairing our Elemental’s armor.”
“Harjel.” The material was found only on one world of the Clan Homeworlds, a world that Clan Diamond Shark defended with ferocity. Other Clans had to trade or challenge for possessions for shipments of harjel - and they did, because the alternative would leave their Elemental infantry at a severe disadvantage.
Crichell gave Aidan a grim but triumphant smile. “Our scientists have discovered a source of harjel, or something as near to it as makes no difference on one of the moons of this star system. Work to harvest and process it is already underway. You can imagine the benefits to our Clan, but Twycross is in easy striking range of the Wolves and the Nova Cats. Other Clans would have to try harder, but with the threat of breaking their monopoly, I am sure the Diamond Sharks will make the attempt sooner or later.”
Aidan folded his arms and then sat back down. “Harjel,” he said again. “And factories to use it - aff, I see your logic. But keeping so many of our forces here will make it obvious.”
Crichell shrugged. “Since we are making our capital here, our military headquarters also needs to be here - at least for now. If we resume the invasion or if the Inner Sphere begins to launch more serious counter-attacks then obviously you will need to take command of dealing with that, but for now you and the Gyrfalcon Galaxy are our key reserve against an attack here.”
“Fine.” The junior Khan pushed himself to his feet again. He didn’t believe that it was the full story but Crichell was so used to lying that he probably lied even to himself. At least part of this was a desire to keep Aidan under tight control. “But as we are giving untested warriors the chance to see action, we must also offer opportunities for those who have proven themselves.”
Crichell nodded. “What do you suggest?”
“Trials of Bloodright have been stalled as we waited for enough warriors and equipment to arrive that we would not be crippling ourselves by holding them. Let every bloodhouse with vacant bloodrights hold a trial here on Twycross, under my supervision. If this is to be our new capital, we should show it off.”
“And it gives your… progeny another chance at a bloodname,” the old khan said cagily. He waved his hand. “Very well, you are right that we have delayed as long as we can on the trials of bloodright. Perhaps too long. Make the arrangements, both for this and to reinforce Arcturus.”
And for trials of position for warriors who have not seen action in the last year, Aidan thought. Like you, my khan.
-
At least Ace sees the other shoe dropping... ;)
-
It's more like a centipede is dropping all its other shoes all over the known space.
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You, sir, are NOT wrong! ;D
-
Opalescent Reflections
Full House
Chapter 7
Imperial City, Irurzun
Benjamin Military District, Draconis Combine
2 August 3057
The display in front of the DCMS High Command showed the results of probing attacks against the Clans. “We have little time left to decide where to attack with the forces being sent by our allies,” Minoru reminded the warlords.
“With Task Force Topaz already committed to assist the Outworlds Alliance, using Ruby to liberate adjacent worlds would concentrate both task forces against a relatively limited part of the Diamond Shark’s forces,” Li Dok To advocated. “Galedon V is only a short distance behind the truce line and we could reasonably hope to reach New Samarkand.”
“I don’t doubt that you could,” Boris Petrov agreed mildly. “But that would put a preponderance of forces facing just one end of the border and even if the Diamond Sharks were entirely focused on you,” Which was not something to count on, “It leaves the Ghost Bears and Smoke Jaguars free to attack us and we would have limited forces available to contain them.”
“Sixteen ‘mech regiments,” Daniel Sorenson said grimly. “We could call on Task Force Emerald to reinforce that, but that would take time. I think that would pose an unacceptable risk to Benjamin… and possibly to Irurzun.”
“If we push somewhere else, the Diamond Sharks could move on the Davion border,” Li Dok To pointed out.
“Possible, if somewhat unlikely since they would be the nearest reinforcements for their forces in the Outworlds Alliance,” Petrov allowed. “In that case, I think we can safely say that the Federated Commonwealth would guarantee not only Task Force Emerald but their remaining reserves from the Draconis March to support us.”
“My sister would certainly twist arms to that effect,” agreed Minoru, examining the data displaying the confirmed and theorized strength and readiness of the Clan forces on worlds that had been raided. “Since we cannot be strong everywhere, that leaves us two basic options: the central option, striking at the Ghost Bears and the Diamond Sharks, or the anti-spinwards option, targeting the Ghost Bears and the Smoke Jaguars.”
He had tried not to indicate a preference, but from the way Petrov looked apologetic as he said: “As much as I would like to advise otherwise, the anti-spinwards option seems better. The Smoke Jaguars have significantly more of their forces tied down dealing with local resistance and are far less likely to coordinate with the Ghost Bears,” he had apparently seen through Minoru’s feigned indifference.
“That is true but any serious advance into that region would be surrounded on three sides,” pointed out Li Dok To. He indicated the central option. “Here, we would have the potential for follow-up operations to connect with the liberated Outworlds and perhaps push all the way to the Draconis Rift!”
Reaching the Draconis Rift would not be the challenge, Minoru thought. At its nearest, the edge of the rift was only a jump away from the truceline. That would, to an extent, cover the flank of a central advance. “There are valuable industrial worlds in that part of the Diamond Shark’s occupation force,” he observed, trying not to look at Luthien, which was temptingly at the far end of the most optimistic hopes for progress of the attack. The much more densely packed worlds of the anti-spinward option would mean slower progress but also less exposed flanks.
“That may be so, but we would have to succeed in liberating those worlds, Tono,” Sorenson pointed out respectfully. “The Diamond Sharks know of their importance and we know at least one of their frontline galaxies is operating out of Luthien, in addition to what they describe as ‘Spina’ units in some degree of strength acting as response forces along the front, on top of second line and garrison units. It is unlikely that they will be overcome before reinforcements arrive from deeper in the occupation zone.”
Petrov nodded. “And while the Diamond Sharks don’t appear to have more frontline galaxies here than the Smoke Jaguars, their units have a larger paper strength and are generally closer to full strength.”
“Then we should prioritize them for destruction.” Li Dok To pressed his hands together.
Ninyu Indrahar cleared his throat. “The key phrases are ‘don’t appear’ and ‘here’. Interrogation reports indicate that the Diamond Sharks have five frontline galaxies, when no other Clan has more than four. Continued flow of reinforcements may indicate that another frontline force will be arriving and it is unlikely to be less capable than the others.”
Minoru rested his hand on his chin. “Can you confirm that this is so?”
“Not so far,” the spymaster admitted.
The coordinator looked at the map, seeing the icons indicating worlds that had not been attacked recently. “One more rounds of raids to gather information and seed insurgent teams,” he ordered. “The ISF have until then to investigate further. If the Diamond Sharks do have four frontline galaxies then it would be best to rid ourselves of the Smoke Jaguars and Ghost Bear distractions before we focus on the Sharks. If not, we will focus on the central option.”
All three warlords dipped their heads in compliance.
“In the event that we do strike at the Smoke Jaguars and that the Diamond Sharks refrain from launching an offensive, it occurs to me that an attack on Galedon V may lead them to anticipate a larger offensive there,” offered Li Dok To. “If they respond in sufficient force to make a retreat necessary, then those forces are not committed across the truceline. If they do not… well, we would have retaken a district capital.”
Minoru rubbed his chin. “There would be limited forces available to you.”
“Three ‘mech regiments and support,” the Warlord offered as if in challenge. “Enough to handle anything less than a full galaxy of Diamond Sharks.”
“I am not convinced that that would be enough,” Sorenson said cautiously. “However, since you would be waiting until after the initial waves of fighting are over, if Operation Topaz goes well then the Fifth Sword of Light would be available for recall.” He looked away slightly as he mentioned the regiment he had once served in.
“If it goes well, which adds another questionable outcome.”
Minoru shook his head slightly, leading to the warlords falling silent. “If the Outworlds front is not making progress then an attack on Galedon might reduce pressure on them. It is too early to know how the war will go but it does not hurt to plan for the possibility. Of all the major worlds lost, Galedon V is the most accessible.” He paused in thought and then nodded in decision. “Any such attack would be secondary in nature, looking no further than the district capital and perhaps worlds within one jump of it?”
“Yes, Tono.” Li Dok To lowered his head slightly. “As much as I wish to reclaim New Samarkand for the Dragon, it would not be achievable.”
“Prepare options with and without the Fifth Sword of Light,” Minoru decided. “And also with and without a further regiment from the capital. I may send my brother to fight for Galedon V.” It would be politically beneficial for Franklin to have military experience fighting with the DCMS, both to give him credibility if he had to be named heir and to link House Kurita to the victory.
“Is weakening the capital wise?” asked Sorenson. “There are no frontlines in space and a deep raid could be very destructive.”
“We will know that only in retrospect, and it is too soon to say if it will seem prudent.” Minoru glanced at the clock. “I have another matter to deal with shortly, so I will move to one last point. Warlord Sorenson, your proposals for Dieron District will be allowed on a provisional basis for the proposed Dieron and Algedi prefectures. The remaining worlds of the district are to be organized into Kessel and Vega prefectures and these will continue to operate under current regulations for comparison purposes.”
The warlord bowed. “I am sure that this will strengthen the Dragon.”
“Officials who believe that you are wrong about this will no doubt congregate in Kessel and Vega and attempt to prove their point,” Minoru pointed out. “This at least gives you somewhere to send those who do not cooperate.” It would also reduce the impact if Sorenson used this to build up his personal power base further. He didn’t like the idea that he might have to remove the warlord, but it was always wise to consider contingencies. “I look forward to seeing the results of this experiment.”
He rose to his feet and all those present did the same, saluting as he headed for the door.
“Best wishes with your next appointment, Tono,” Petrov said daringly.
Minoru half-turned and frowned at the warlord. “It is not a military matter, Boris.”
“No Lord Kurita,” the man agreed and bowed his head - probably to hide that he was grinning, damn him! “But it is critical to the survival of the Draconis Combine.
There was no time to castigate him and in any case, he hadn’t said anything worthy of official punishment. That didn’t mean that Minoru wasn’t considering how he might take a more subtle revenge as he went up the stairs leading out of the underground complex. His grandfather would never have been addressed like this, that was for sure!
A valet was waiting for him at the top, the man keenly aware of Minoru’s schedule. In the time that it took the Coordinator to cross the hall, his stark white uniform tunic was removed by deft hands and a longer jacket of less martial cut replaced it. Minoru paused briefly to let the valet wipe his face with a warm cloth, pat it dry with a towel and then run a comb quickly through his dark hair. In a few heartbeats he was returned to perfect presentability and gave the man an appreciative nod on his way out.
Guards snapped to attention as Minoru crossed through a more public hall, courtiers stepping out of his way and bowing as he made his way to the entrance of the building. A long black groundcar was just pulling up outside and a member of the Otomo checked inside it before giving the Coordinator a formal bow that covered for a discreet hand signal that all was as it should be.
The occupant of the back seat turned carefully to extend both feet out to the floor. Minoru stepped forwards and took her hand, helping her to exit. Atsuko Hideyoshi’s fingers were warm within his and although she released his hand and bowed once she had her feet under her, there was an air of excitement that she could not entirely hide. “I am honored by your invitation, Tono.”
“Permit me to take some pride in showing off my new home to an honored guest,” he answered and offered his arm. “It has only reached the position where I am sure that it lives up to expectations.”
A brief tour of the gardens, he thought. And then the scheduled entertainment before dinner; the Jasmine Troupe would be performing Martin and Illiyana, a traditional romance, for those of the court free to attend. He would be seen with Atsuko and see what she made of the formalities of court. If those went well…
He almost stumbled at where that thought led, but a lifetime of martial study kept him from a gaffe.
Well, if that went well then it might be time to speak again with Oda Hideyoshi on matters of courtship.
Takadanobaba, Oshika
Diamond Shark Dominion
25 August 3057
Oshika was a hole of a world. Once a major source of minerals, the mines had long since been exhausted and left the primary industry as the agricultural sector that supported billions. Transplanted terran animals fed the wealthy and provided a small measure of exports, but most of the population could only afford the meat of the native Goji, an insect the size of an armored elemental that tasted only slightly better than its droppings smelt.
Winning the… well, not the loyalty but at least the apathy of the people of Oshika had been as simple as sending a team of scientists specializing in biology to work on adapting new animals to the world - or a Goji variant that was palatable.
Unfortunately, Oshika was also in a prime strategic position - it rested on the Draconis Rift and jumpships could almost (but not quite) reach Iijima on the anti-spinward from Oshika’s star system. The rift, a region where no inhabited worlds had survived the Succession Wars, occupied what had once been the point where Pesht, Galedon and Benjamin Districts met. Now it was a network of well-mapped but barely policed systems that would let raiders strike deep inside the Diamond Shark Dominion.
The shipyards at Midway were the hub for the patrols that tried to close that gap, and Oshika was the ideal staging area for an attack on Midway. Thus, when the DCMS struck, someone had to respond.
A volley of LRMs arched across the sky and hammered into a Tokugawa tank as it raced to plug a gap in the lines of the Eleventh Legion of Vega. The tank’s armor panels shattered under the impact of more than forty missiles from Shiro’s Phoenix Hawk - it might be far larger than the one that the aged mechwarrior had fought in under the Dragon banner but he had adapted well.
More importantly, he showed no hesitation in turning its weapons on soldiers who had once been his comrades in arms. That was always a difficult test for a bondsman. Ace had been warned when he removed Michel’s bondcord that he should still watch the man carefully until they saw if he could cope with fighting against Steel Vipers. Other Clans and the Inner Sphere were always easier than the clan of one’s birth.
(Given that Michel now boasted the Bukannon bloodname, defeating at least three Steel Vipers to obtain it, Ace was going to mark that hurdle as passed).
The tank’s armor might be broken but it had done its job, protecting the crew, weapons and mobility. The Tokugawa’s main gun spat fire back at Shiro defiantly, tearing chunks out of the assault ‘mech’s thick hide.
In response, the old mechwarrior fired his jump jets and eighty tons of battlemech rose up into the air on a majestic arc. The tank driver must have realized what was about to happen and tried to evade, but Shiro feathered his jump jets expertly and the Phoenix Hawk came down squarely on the forward hull of the tank, crushing it underfoot.
The gunner swiveled the turret, the long barrel of the autocannon smacking into one of the Phoenix Hawk’s legs and then fired its SRM launcher, missiles carving divots out of the shin as they exploded. With contemptuous ease, the ‘mech raised its other foot and slammed it against the turret, caving it in.
Ace could have intervened at any time but instead he focused his attention on an elusive light ‘mech that was trying to help plug the gap as the Ivory Skate’s command star punched into the formation of retreating DCMS ‘mechs. The battle computer marked it as a Spider but with surprisingly low certainty and marking anomalies that would need to be reported back to the Watch - this might be an upgraded model or something new that just looked like a Spider.
The Legionnaire danced the fleet little ‘mech away from Ace’s first shots, something that hadn’t happened for a while. Credit to them and Ace would be glad to claim the mechwarrior as a bondsman based on that skill alone.
It wouldn’t save them in the short term though - Ace had a measure of its mobility now and when the jump jets flared to life to lift the quasi-Spider up and into Shiro’s vulnerable rear, he was waiting. The Huntsman’s PPCs fired as one, aimed along the trajectory of the ‘mech. The mechwarrior twisted far enough to avoid one of the bolts but the second blew through the left side of the chest and smashed through the bank of jump jet thrusters.
Deprived of half it’s thrust, the light ‘mech spun briefly out of control before intersecting with the ground, barely catching itself on knees and hands before the left arm gave out - no longer sufficiently braced to carry the weight it collapsed and spilled the ‘mech over on its side, temperature spiking as reactor damage and ruptured coolant lines overwhelmed heatsinks already trying to cope with the heat of the jump jets.
For a moment Ace thought that the mechwarrior would shut down their reactor but instead the head blew open as the mechwarrior ejected. Huh. Spiders didn’t have an ejection seat, it was one of the design’s biggest deficiencies.
A moment later, the reactor shielding finally gave up and the fallen ‘mech was the center of a blue-white fireball as the awesome heat of the interior met cold air, oil and whatever else was accessible. That would certainly cut into what could be discovered from the wreck.
The mechwarrior themselves hadn’t been thrown vertically by their ejection - they had barely managed an angled ascent and the parachute opened too low to fully absorb the velocity they had been thrown out with. Ace saw them moving, but it was clear that the Legionnaire would need medical treatment. He took a moment to mark their location for pick-up before looking for another target.
Julian’s trinary was exchanging fire with the combine mechs to the left of the gap, the Legion of Vega giving almost as good as they were getting. Many of the ‘mechs were unfamiliar, this operation might be to test them out. Light ‘mechs from the Sixtieth Striker Cluster raced through the gap Ace and his command star had opened for them - Adders, Kit Foxes and Mongrels using their speed to slash around and into the enemy rear.
The Legionnaires to Ace’s right - the enemy left flank collapsed immediately. For a moment he thought that it was disorder but a moment later a new order emerged - slower, heavier ‘mechs and tanks were forming an L-formation that retreated grudgingly, the shorter leg of the L engaging the breakthrough force while hovercraft and faster ‘mechs - Dragons, a handful of Tora and some of the less familiar designs - raced for the dropships.
A rearguard sacrificing themselves, Ace thought. These are good troops.
That didn’t stop him from turning on a DCMS Archer that opened up on him with both of its LRM launchers. He darted behind one of the hillocks that dotted the edge of the Combine dropzone, some of the missiles tracking into the ground and others picked off by flechettes from his AMS. A few ran the gauntlet but that was less than a tenth of the salvo and his Huntsman’s armor was more than up to the handful of impacts.
Ace emerged from cover and hammered at the Archer’s frontal armor with both PPCs, the bolts of charged particles savaging the heavy plating. He’d hoped to hit the low-slung cockpit but all he managed was to inflict blackened scars across the red-and-gray Archer’s chest. It wasn’t enough to breach but he would have been surprised if it was, Archer’s were notoriously durable.
Rushing forwards, Ace was almost able to get inside the minimum range of the Archer’s missile launchers before it fired again, each footstep of his Huntsman kicking up divots of dry soil - the grass too thin to hold it together. A mass of missiles vomited from both launcheres and Ace hammered the jump jets, angling them for minimal elevation and maximum forward thrust.
Propelled like a rocket itself, the fifty ton Huntsman crashed through the missiles with its AMS blasting holes in the volley as it went. Some missiles were unable to track and most of those that hit failed to detonate, the warheads having not reached their minimum arming distance. They still caused damage, including one that sent a spider web of cracks across the armorglass of Ace’s cockpit, but it was far less than the devastation of their full fury.
The Archer backpedaled, raising its blocky fists like a boxer guarding himself. The limbs weren’t large enough to give full coverage though and Ace was able to draw a bead on the broken armor from one of his earlier shots.
His right arm’s PPC discharged at a range of under a hundred meters and the shot crashed home, sending armor panels the size of a man flying away, tearing away structural ribbing and opening the munitions storage and loading mechanisms for the LRM launcher to view.
Reflexively the Legionnaire shifted his mech’s arm to block the breach but this exposed his cockpit and while Ace didn’t generally accept ‘too close to miss’ as a definition, he hadn’t stopped closing in and the PPC in the Huntsman’s left arm discharged into the cockpit’s armor glass from a distance that was almost literal knife fighting range (a distance he could have thrown a knife across, if without any great accuracy).
The Archer toppled backwards, flames visible through what remained of the cockpit. The other Draconian ‘mechs and tanks were for the most part still putting up a fight, helped in part by Ace’s orders for his forces to stick to strict zellbrigen unless provoked. He didn’t think many of them would last long, but they were stalling the bulk of the Ivory Skate and Sixtieth Striker forces he’d brought with him to relieve the garrison.
“Thomas, Sasha, with me!” he ordered sharply, seeing that the pair had also finished their opponents.
The two had no problem catching up with Ace as he took up the pursuit, weaving to avoid fire from members of the rear-guard that objected to him breaking past them. Their Vapor Eagles fell in on his flanks.
“We cannot defeat them all without support,” Sasha warned - the Eleventh Legion still had the bulk of two of their mech battalions intact, not to mention the hover-tanks and the infantry mounted in personnel carriers.
“Keep them running and make sure they have a good look at us.”
“Is this why we are wearing the wrong unit markings?” Thomas asked - sensibly using a tight-beam rather than something that could be detected.
Ace felt his lips draw back. “They didn’t come to this world because of its food. They want information and I want them to take back a load of garbage.”
Shots came back at them - tanks turning their turrets to the rear and ‘mechs twisting to point one arm directly backwards, which also covered their thinner armor. Ace saw one unfamiliar heavy aim a pair of autocannon back towards him and ducked the Huntsman aside before twin streams of depleted uranium could crack his armor - or obscure the proud badges of Beta Galaxy that he was displaying.
The trueborn sounded pained. “It seems dishonorable.”
“They offered no batchall and did not identify themselves,” Ace pointed out. “We had to work out who we were facing from observations. Why make it easy for them to do the same?” And if the DCMS believed that Beta Galaxy was deployed here then they would be more cautious. With the potential of being stabbed in the back by other Clans, that caution might save the Diamond Sharks from fighting enemies on two fronts.
He raised his arms, firing the PPCs one at a time casually after the withdrawing ‘mechs. He didn’t actually expect to hit but one shot smacked into the back of a hunched over medium ‘mech that dodged when it shouldn’t have. The particle beam punched through the shoulder and sent one arm flying.
Ace tagged that for recovery as well. “Make sure you get your battleROMs in for analysis - there are too many unknown ‘mechs here.”
“We have to survive for that,” Sasha grumbled. “Sooner or later they will realize that there are only three of us.”
“I hope so.” Ace checked their distance from the rest of the Diamond Sharks. Some were beginning to move closer, getting past the rear guard. “It would let us drag some more back to take out in detail. But they are probably disciplined enough to understand that. We will give it until the next ridge - that should be outside of the range of their dropships.”
“Well I am hoping that they do not regroup and try again,” Sasha observed. “We might have to try eating some of the local cuisine and I have heard bad things about the goji.”
“We are working to fix that,” Ace assured him. “Until then, this world will be a fertile source of recruits: the prospect of being assigned to another world has students competing ferociously for places in the warrior and scientist castes. If we can find the equipment and if we have the time, we can recruit another galaxy of warriors from Oshika alone.”
-
Thonburi, Krung Thep
Periphery March, Federated Commonwealth
14 September 3057
Victor heard a familiar voice outside his watchpost and it took him a moment to place it. Then both of his eyebrows jerked up - Kai rarely raised his voice out of irritation. Pushing his chair back, he crossed to the opening of the tent he was using and looked outside.
Kai Allard-Liao was standing outside a staff car, wearing AFFC uniform and arguing with three military police officers, none of whom seemed impressed by the fact they were speaking to a foreign duke. Then again, Victor had picked them for their exacting devotion to duty rather than respect for rank so this was his fault.
“Sergeant!” he called to the senior of the trio.
The man backed up a step before turning. While his subordinates had hands on their nightsticks (though they had yet to draw them, he had been reaching for his radio already. “Sir?” the man barked.
“Hauptmann Allard is with me,” Victor explained. “Unless you’ve decided to join the local militia, Kai?”
Kai exhaled, visibly calming. “The local climate does not tempt me.”
“I didn’t think so.” Victor waved for him to come over. “Sorry about the misunderstanding, carry on sergeant.”
There was another “Sir!” from the military police sergeant and he hustled his trio back to where they had been overseeing quite a number of junior officers and senior NCOs that were engaged in unfamiliar manual labor.
Kai loosened his uniform jacket as he saw that Victor had done the same, exposing an undershirt already damp with sweat. “Victor?”
“I thought you’d be in St Ives uniform,” he apologized, waving for Kai to enter the shade of the tent. “Or I’d have alerted them to look out for your name. Sorry about that.”
“I was trying to be incognito,” the heir to the St Ives Compact explained. “I suppose I overdid it. What are you even doing out here?”
“This far from Tharkad or this far from the drop-port?” Victor asked drily. He went to a small cool box and produced a sports drink, passing it to his guest.
Kai accepted the drink and nodded before cracking the lid and taking a long draught from the contents. It looked like it hit the spot because he relaxed further and took the seat facing Victor.
“A lot of these worlds haven’t been under serious threat since the Second Succession War,” he explained. “Even the arrival of the Clans hasn’t really woken up their planetary militias so Aunt Nondi sent me out to make some examples.”
“I thought you preferred leading by example,” Kai observed.
“Tried that,” Victor said flatly. “When the local militia were ordered to make a base ready for your arrival they requested additional funds to ‘make good’ some deficiencies in the base out there.”
Kai frowned, leant back in his chair and looked out of the tent’s opening. “That’s a militia base?”
“Uh-huh.”
“I have Raymond’s Armored Infantry and their supporting brigade arriving in forty-eight hours. Roughing it in the field is one thing, but if that’s their base of operations for the next six months then they may riot.” He considered the view for a moment longer and then lowered the chair back onto all four legs. “I’d join them.”
Victor chuckled darkly. “Which is why you and your troops will be operating out of the militia base near the capital and they will be moving out here. To the base that has had an annual budget for routine maintenance and a larger sum every six years for major works and improvements. One of them since the Clan Invasion.” He bared his teeth. “Would it surprise you to learn that quite a number of the officer - commissioned or otherwise - have very nice houses and cars?”
Kai’s eyes narrowed. “Disappoint, yes. Surprise… well, there are jokes about the LCAF.”
“And where there is smoke, there is fire. We know the money got this far and currently every officer ranked Kommandant or higher is having an interview with a tax official rather higher placed than the one who did two days a month as a Leutnant-Colonel in one of the infantry regiments.”
That got a whistle. “An example indeed. And the work-crews outside?”
“Every member of the militia above the rank of corporal has ‘volunteered’ to make good the deficiencies out of their own time,” Victor replied. “They’ve also donated to hire the skilled workers where they don’t have them already and will be providing grunt labor - we’ll feed them, but it doesn’t count towards their other obligations. Which is probably doing them no good in their regular employment. It may impose some military discipline.”
“And they accepted that?”
“Taxman,” he answered bluntly. “Being fair, some of those who objected have been cleared of wrong-doing. They get to be called up on the AFFC’s dime to be your liaisons. The leutnant in charge of that knows the planet pretty well, even if he occasionally has trouble getting onto his feet without a ‘little drinkie’.”
Kai shook his head. “Not exactly what I’d expect from the AFFC.”
“We shaped our expectations on New Avalon and Tharkad, then sharpened them on the frontlines. Things are a bit different in backwaters unless we keep a sharp eye.”
Kai finished his drink. “Sounds fun.”
“And how are you?” Victor asked, recalling the raised voice earlier. “It’s been a while since Sarna and letters…” He shrugged a little guiltily. He’d been so busy that he didn’t recall exactly when he and Kai had last exchanged correspondence.
“You know I went back to Ares?” Kai asked.
“Yes.” He’d encouraged the decision, even if Candace hadn’t officially allowed it. Kai was the duke of the world, after all, and what was his mother going to do? Formally exile her eldest son? “How did it go?”
“Political partisanship is alive and well inside the St Ives Compact,” his friend answered. “There’s a reason we’re getting Raymond’s Armored Infantry and Aleisha’s Mounted Fusiliers rather than regiments of the St Ives Lancers.”
“Enlighten the political idiot over here,” Victor requested, hoping he was misreading this. The two were storied units, mercs that had joined the CCAF during the Succession Wars. They hadn’t been entirely happy with the breakaway of the St Ives Compact and while neither had backed Romano Liao, they had made it clear that they would serve Candace Liao as mercenaries rather than a formal part of the St Ives Armored Cavalry.
Kai sighed. “Officers who are too opposed to the Capellan Confederation are being encouraged to leave the Lancer regiments. Many of them are joining merc or militia units instead, letting mother stack the Lancers with officers she feels are less likely to ‘provoke another war’.”
Victor squinted at him. “Are we talking about her forming pro-Capellan units?”
“She’s not going that far,” the dark-haired mechwarrior assured him. “Arguably what she’s doing is weeding out the hotheads… the ones who think we should have taken Capella.”
“The ones who like you more than they do her.”
“With a bit of distance,” Kai said darkly, “I can see where she was coming from. I’m not sure she’s right about some of her predictions, but if taking Capella had triggered Thomas Marik or even just some of the border provinces to jump in then we could have wound up with a three or four sided war tearing the Confederation apart. Not what we needed when the Clans were on the move again.”
“I don’t think Thomas Marik would have jumped,” Victor said after a moment’s thought. “Mind you, the border provinces are another matter. Duke Halas would be hard to stop if he called all his province’s forces together.”
“We’ll never know,” Kai agreed. “And for what it’s worth, Sun-Tzu isn’t as bad as his mother.”
“I can’t say the same for his sister.” Kali Liao was certifiably mad, bad and dangerous to be around according to intel. Her mother had leaned into the claims of her divinity by the thuggee sect out of vanity and for access to their fanatics, but Kali seemed to actually believe it.
Kai grimaced. “Anyway, mother said those regiments are ‘my men’ and therefore my problem. Having them far away from the Capellans means less chance of provoking another conflict.”
“And you said…?” probed Victor.
“As long as Sun-Tzu kept his head, literally and figuratively, I don’t think a war with the Capellans is wise.” He sighed. “Unfortunately, Cassandra jumped in with both feet about what to do if that didn’t happen.”
“This was on St Ives.”
“I visited a few times. It’s not far from Ares.” Kai rubbed his head. “Kuan-yin tried to calm things down and thankfully Quintus knows when to keep his mouth shut. Anyway, Cassandra was ordered off St Ives ‘until she grows up’ and she’s with Khorsakov’s Cossacks now. Meanwhile mother decided to mention that she considers Treyhang to be just as much a candidate to succeed her as any of us.”
Victor frowned. “I don’t really know him,” he said dubiously. Treyhang was Kai’s other cousin - son of Tormano Liao, who milked a living off the ‘Free Capella’ movement and possibly the man most disappointed by the decision not to take Capella away from the Confederation. He’d been regent, briefly, over St Ives until Kai returned from Luthien to take over the war effort.
“He doesn’t get along with his father much these days,” Kai told him. “So when I told her he’d be a better choice than Tormano, she hit the roof. I am also now unwelcome on St Ives until I show some responsibility - preferably by marrying and giving her some grandchildren.”
“...”
“Oh don’t look at me like that,” Kai complained. “You have Omi.”
Victor grimaced. “Which, as much as I might wish otherwise, is not necessarily going to go anywhere. Minoru is in a precarious position already. She isn’t going to do anything to weaken his position, and honestly I’d think less of her if she did.”
“We should offer him membership.”
“A society of people being pressured to marry?” Victor asked and chuckled. “Great House problems, they would call that. Are you seeing anyone?”
Kai shook his head. “It would serve my mother right if I went to Solaris and started picking up groupies. I was thinking of doing that for a while - Solaris, not the groupies. I own Cenotaph Stables, dad left it to me. But not when we’re sending men and women to war.”
“Speaking of which, I will be sure to be on hand when your troops land.” Victor told him. “How is their equipment? I can twist some arms if you need to fill some gaps.”
“That won’t be be necessary,” he was assured. “Mother may have chosen them for political reasons, but she didn’t stint on supplies. Colonel Raymond’s regiment is a little above full strength and almost every ‘mech has been upgraded. That includes a full company of Gunslingers.”
“Impressive,” he allowed. “Arthur has one and showed it off to me on Tharkad. I wouldn’t give up my Warhammer for it but it’s an impressive design.”
“It’s almost terrifying how fast technology is moving,” Kai agreed. “I expect to wake up one day and my Hellhound will look as out of date as as Yen-lo-Wang would be.” His father’s old Centurion had been destroyed too early in the Clan Invasion to benefit from upgrades.
Victor nodded and then frowned. “Just as long as the Clans don’t spring ahead of us,” he said seriously.
-
It just fits that ace would turn information gathering raid into disinformation gathering raid.
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Yen-Lo-Wang was lost?
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They want information and I want them to take back a load of garbage.
That's exactly how Ace rolls! :D
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Yen-Lo-Wang was lost?
Yes, Kai blew it up on Twycross in the Great Gash rather than a borrowed Hatchetman.
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Did Yen-Lo-Wang have a detachable head? ???
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Normal ejection, there was no explosives in the canyon.
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Sounds like early Operation Bulldog like expedition is about to happen, while the renegade new clan causes trouble.
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Wait, Kai Allard-Liao drives a *Hellhound* now? Is it the Mechwarrior 4 version that was canonized as the *Hellcat*? Or is this a different custom design?
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It's a Conjuror - I used the Inner Sphere code name by mistake
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Ah gotcha. Less overall punch than the YLW's AC-20 but much faster, and that battery of lasers essentially gives Kai a IS PPC and two IS LLs to work with. I wonder if he would modify the LPL to a Clan ER PPC to get back the headcapper ability.
-
Opalescent Reflections
Full House
Chapter 8
Dali, Tamar
Clan Wolf Occupation Zone
12 October 3057
A globe depicting Rasalhague’s surface spun lazily in the command center, but Ulric gave it little attention. Updates of data from the fighting there were coming back steadily and the Khan of Clan Wolf had long since absorbed the last messages. He was there in anticipation of the next HPG message and it wouldn’t arrive for several minutes.
“I think the Coyotes are right to invest in new weapons,” he informed Evantha Fetladral. The towering elemental officer had not been bid for the fighting on Rasalhague, giving Ulric a chance to see how one of the Wolves’ future leaders was shaping up and what was being talked about by the younger warriors.
The redheaded woman folded her arms, not defensively but more to cover for her taking time to think through the answer to her question. Ulric was not one of those to assume that the infantry genotype were slow of wit, he knew Evantha was simply one of those who measured her words and actions carefully. “They are not under the same pressure to maintain volumes of production of war material that we are,” she allowed after giving the matter consideration. She did not sound entirely convinced, to Ulric’s ear.
He leant on the rail for a moment, eyes flickering to the globe as the familiar black mark of Rasalhague’s former capital swung past him. Reykjavik had been savaged from orbit more than half a decade ago, but the Smoke Jaguars had seen no reason to try to hide the evidence of the atrocity or to encourage rebuilding. “The Inner Sphere is deploying new generations of war machines against us,” he told his small audience. “We have seen little of them because the worst that we have faced are minor raids, but other Clans have seen more of them. The Draconis Combine appears to have mastered the production of most of the SLDF’s technology and reports claim that the Federated Commonwealth may have pushed past that level.”
Eventha frowned. “Most reports of those I have heard sound more like excuses from the Clans involved.”
“That may be the case, but there is substance as well. Unfortunately there are few samples: the AFFC has mostly deployed it to achieve victories which prevents the acquisition through isorla.”
“Still, we are far more advanced than the Star League was.”
“Not so much as you might think,” Erik cut in. The loremaster was working at a console, using the waiting time productively.
Catching his sibkin’s eye, Ulric gestured for him to continue.
Lowering the stylus he’d been using on the console’s screen, Erik stretched slightly. “The majority of the weapons used by the Clans today were developed in the Golden Century, many of them based on work the SLDF had commissioned before even the first Exodus. It took decades to put into production, and there were often iterations over time but most of our weapon systems are only marginally changed over the last two centuries.”
“We have new battlemechs,” pointed out Evantha. “The Dire Wolf was developed in your lifetime and we have even newer models entering production, quiaff?”
“Aff, but I am speaking of more fundamental issues. Have we taken extended range weapons and given them more range than they had in the twenty-ninth century? Can our ‘mechs carry more armor than a comparable chassis built in the Inner Sphere?”
“Exactly,” Ulric agreed. “Our newer ‘mechs are formidable but they are the result of working with the existing technologies, not pushing the boundaries to create new ones. Clan Coyote is pouring resources into their Scientist Caste in the hope of an advance such as the omnimech, that will give them a qualitative advantage to offset the increased resources available to the Invading Clans.”
“Except, of course, that someone will win those technologies from them in trials of possession.” Erik picked up his stylus again. “Perhaps not easily, but their advantage will be transitory. Useful, of course, but only a short-term advantage.”
“What may be more important is building up a staff of scientists used to thinking in such ways,” observed Evantha slowly. “Technological breakthroughs are not a production line but with a significant number of scientists working at research, they may manage more than one breakthrough, leaving us constantly behind.”
The loremaster chuckled darkly. “There is an obvious solution to that, the one that plunged the Inner Sphere into a dark age after the Star League fell.”
Evantha gave him a questioning look, but it was Ulric who answered: “Target the scientists. Rather than seeking to acquire the fruits of their work, strangle the ability to innovate. And if we do not, the chances are good that someone will.”
The woman’s face wrinkled with distaste. “If the Inner Sphere is beginning to match our advantages in technology, then perhaps we should aid the Coyotes. Our warriors’ skill may be superior but it would be naive to say that it was our only advantage during Revival.”
Ulric gave her an approving smile. “Negotiations have been opened. We were always a wealthier Clan than the Coyotes and the invasion has given us new sources of material. Naturally, Khan Koga does not wish to give up exclusive control of her scientists’ work but she is a practical woman and if they lack the resources to complete development then all the investment so far will be for nothing.”
“Pride can make for poor decisions,” Erik warned and then pushed his seat back, looking over towards the globe. “As Khan Showers may be learning.”
Ulric turned and saw that the unit markers dotting Rasalhague had moved. He focused first on the Smoke Jaguars and saw that what remained of the garrison was moving back towards the drop-port that was the center of their presence on the former capital of the Free Rasalhague Republic. Venturing out to contest Clan Wolf’s offensive had not only exposed them to Clan Wolf, they had also given the insurgents a chance to strike back.
Direct resistance rarely went well for the resistance, although it did force the Smoke Jaguars to expend time and munitions fighting against them. More effective was more subtle sabotage - cut communications, damaged supplies - in one case two broken bridges that was forcing half a cluster to take a longer route on their retreat, exposing them to be cut off and destroyed.
“Who took out those bridges?” Evantha enquired. “There are no markings for air strikes.”
“Local civilians I suspect.” Ulric rubbed at his beard. “Convenient for now but less so if they turn the same tactics against us.”
While Natasha’s own Clusters were sweeping across the main continent, a second force was on the other side of the planet - moving almost as quickly across the Ystad jungles. No galaxy icons marked the units although Ulric supposed he would have to assign one after this victory.
“Phelan’s doing well.” Evantha exhaled with some relief. “I was concerned he had misjudged his warriors.”
“He is growing into a capable warrior,” Ulric agreed as he studied the advance. The targets here were not the Smoke Jaguars - they had rarely sent forces out of their stronghold except on punitive raids. No, here the Wolves were fighting for the hearts and minds of the Rasalhaguians.
Four out of five warriors under Phelan’s lead were Spheroids - bondsmen alongside trueborn and freeborn warriors out of the homeworlds but also entire binaries of infantry, ‘mechs and armor recruited from worlds like Gunzberg. Men and women who had accepted the challenge to do more than maintain order on their homeworlds.
“Liberating Rasalhague from the Smoke Jaguars is a rallying cry,” the khan continued with a sigh. “One that could still backfire if the people of Rasalhague conclude that we are no better.”
The elemental choked off a laugh. “Best not… ah…” She shook her head.
Ulric gave her a questioning look.
“I was going to say that we should not send Vlad,” Evantha admitted. “Two years and still it is hard to remember he is no longer a Wolf.”
The saKhan of the Zeerga had risen from the same sibko as Evantha. They had known each other their entire lives only to be divided by Ulric’s decree. That it could as easily have happened due to battle did not take away that such tragic gaps in the circles of friendships and rivalries that bound the Clan were his work.
“I do not think he would have relished such a role,” Ulric agreed. “Though he might well have enjoyed fighting to drive the Smoke Jaguars from their prize.” The globe spun back to the primary battle fronts and he assessed the strengths of Beta Galaxy’s clusters. There had been losses, but nothing like those that were depleting the Smoke Jaguars’s numbers.
“They bid too low,” concluded Erik. “If they were going to only put up a token fight, rushing two extra Clusters here was pointless but it isn’t enough to hold onto Rasalhague.”
“Rasalhague is too important for them to give up,” Ulric told him. “It is their grand prize, no matter that their control extends no further than the range of their guns. Losing it will embarrass Leo Showers when he is trying to build up his credibility once more as a leader of the Crusaders.”
Evantha asked the obvious question: “Then why not send more?”
He reached for the rail once more. “Good question. Show me the Smoke Jaguar occupation zone.”
The hologram of Rasalhague vanished, replaced by the familiar map of the Inner Sphere. Smoke Jaguar space lay spinwards of the Wolves - slightly narrower but also far less densely settled through most of its area.
“Most of their best units are deployed here,” he indicted the rimwards edge. “Facing the Draconis Combine and controlling the majority of the worlds.” The stretch between Skandia and Trolloc Prime was the only part of the occupation zome that had worlds paced together as closely as most of the Wolf occupation zone. “Still, there should be three galaxies at least to cover the region between Alshain and Rasalhague. They could pull units from the DIamond Shark border easily enough, Khan Sennet’s forces are overstretched as it is - they are unlikely to launch serious attacks across the Rasalhague rift.”
“Then what are those troops doing?” Evantha indicated the map. “Fighting the Ghost Bears - we would have heard! Pushing into the Inner Sphere?”
“ComStar would have ensured everyone knew that.” Ulric dismissed the idea. “They could be patrolling supply lines, but the only really likely option is that they are being massed to attack someone and Leo Showers was too focused on that to send enough of his reserve to Rasalhague.”
“At this rate he will lose New Bergen and Hermagor as well.” Those two worlds weren’t strictly necessary to reach Rasalhague but Natasha Kerensky had taken them anyway as a prelude.
“It is either us or the Sharks,” Erik concluded. “If it is us, well we are prepared for that.”
“And if it is the Sharks then it is to our benefit.” Ulric smiled thinly. “Whichever of them claims victory, both will be weakened. I can live with that.”
Yamashiro, New Samarkand
Diamond Shark Dominion
29 November 3057
The great hall, twice the throneroom of the Coordinator of the Draconis Combine, fell silent as Ellison Enders entered through the double doors. Finding himself surrounded on both flanks by a number of formally-clad Diamond Shark warriors, all giving him their full attention, the Goliath Scorpion barely blinked and he swaggered towards the dais where Ace was waiting.
“If I had known this was a formal occasion,” he drawled, indicating his black jumpsuit. “I would have brought my leathers.”
“If I had told you ahead of time, you might be in your Rifleman,” Ace replied sardonically. “Or halfway to the jump-point.”
“I am ambushed!” Ellison cried out, spreading his arms melodramatically… but there was a spark of anger in his eyes.
Betrayed, really. Ace liked the older man - even if he didn’t trust him not to stir trouble. But his duty to the Clan came first. They might have a bloodhouse in common, but that wasn’t the strongest of bonds. “Star Captain Ellison Enders, I offer you formal challenge,” he declared, rising to his feet. “There are twelve of your Clan’s Seeker within our Domain, each at the head of a binary of warriors. I lay claim to those warriors and all of their equipment for Clan Diamond Shark - with what will you defend them?”
The older warrior chuckled and shook his head. “You have misdirected your challenge, Galaxy Commander. I am one Seeker among many - a mere Star Captain, not a Khan or even a Star Colonel. You should direct your challenge to my superiors.”
Ace rolled his shoulders. “That may be your rank, but you did not say that they are not under your command, not that you lack authority.”
“Are you calling me a liar?”
“You are being very careful not to lie,” Ace told him. “All of those Seekers are in contact with you by HPG. We may not be able to read those messages, but they go through our HPGs. And almost every message sent back to the homeworlds is via your dropship - even before you arrived on New Samarkand.”
Ellison shook his head. “Supposition.”
“All you need to do is tell me that you are not in charge of the seekers,” Ace offered. The Goliath Scorpion could try to lie, but the Clans generally despised such dishonesty. Clever words to mislead and misdirect, that was fine - in fact, it could be very important when bidding. Actually giving false information though? That was another matter - much like breaking one’s bid, it was a substantial dishonor. Ellison might face no formal consequences, but his Clan’s trust in him would vanish.
“You are a quick learner,” the seeker admitted. “I liked it better when you turned your tongue against the Burrocks.”
“I am sure that you did. So, will you answer my challenge?”
“As the officer charged with leading all the seekers sent to the Inner Sphere, I acknowledge your challenge for possession of us,” Ellison said deliberately. “As for answering it…” He shoved his hands into his hip pockets and glanced around the room. “Firstly, I am sure that the honorable Diamond Sharks would not seek to exploit their numbers - so I propose that we settle this between just the two of us. You and me.”
A full battle would probably wreck at least Ellison’s own force, perhaps more if he called on the other seekers to fight as well, destroying what Ace was trying to gain. “Bargained well and done.”
“Not done, not yet. I have another condition: you are demanding over a hundred of my Clan’s warriors if you win. I must ask that you offer a suitable forfeit for when you lose.”
Ace paused. That was not always expected for a Trial of Possession… but it was hardly unheard of. “That is fair,” he agreed, thinking about what he could offer.
Ellison seemed to pick up on his uncertainty. “Well, what do you offer?” They’d met several times since they met on Jordan Weis and the Goliath Scorpion knew him well.
…wait. That was it! “I am claiming twelve Seekers so I will offer thirteen worlds,” Ace declared. “If you defeat me in this challenge then I will surrender all the star systems we have taken from the Outworlds Alliance.”
Several of the Diamond Sharks looked shocked. “Galaxy Commander,” Steven Hawker asked, stepping forwards. “Are you sure you have the authority to do that?”
“I’m in charge of this sector of the Dominon,” he replied. “I have at least as much authority over those worlds as the Star Captain has over his fellow Seekers. And Khan Sennet would probably be at least as angry with me over losing as Khan Suvorov will be when we take the Seekers.”
For his part, Ellison now looked uncertain, sensing a trap.
“Is that acceptable?” Ace asked him. The other Clans were beginning to realize the long term possibilities in controlling a swathe of the Inner Sphere. He suspected the Goliath Scorpions would be ecstatic at the chance to control even the relatively poor worlds involved… and they would look poorly on refusing the chance.
The old Star Captain pulled his hands out of his pockets. “Aff, I accept those terms.” He held up a coin - it might have been the same damon he had asked Ace about previously. “We will decide the terms with this coin,” he proposed. “You will call heads or tails, Galaxy Commander. If you win, you can choose the means of battle and I choose the location. If you lose, it will be the reverse.”
“Agreed.” He stepped down from the dais to face Ellison on even terms. “I will call when the coin is in the air.”
“Seyla,” Ellison declared solemnly. He extended the coin, turning it so everyone could see the sides - one with the face of the long dead Khan Damon Clarke, the other a diamond shark. His hand flickered and the coin tumbled up in the air, the hall falling entirely silent.
Ace did not take his eyes off those of his adversary. “Tails,” he said quietly.
It was so quiet that Ace heard the coin land in Ellison’s right hand and the slap of him placing the coin on the back of his left hand. Slowly, the Goliath Scorpion lifted his hand and both of them looked down at the coin. The diamond shark looked back at them.
“Your choice of arms,” Ellison conceded. Then he smiled slyly. “Like Felipe, I choose here and now. I do not wish to face you in a battlemech.”
Ace glanced up at the roof of the hall. While it was not a small chamber, it certainly was not large enough to admit battlemechs. “Felipe underestimated me,” he warned. He had killed the former head of their bloodhouse in a sword duel.
“I will not…” Then Ellison’s eyes narrowed. “Or have I, already, quiafff?”
“You tell me.” The galaxy commander reached out and took the coin from the other man’s hand. “We will do battle with this.”
“You stravag,” hissed Ellison as the room exploded with exclamations from the audience. “Are you trying to kill me with laughter?!” he added, keeping his voice down to hide it in the background reactions.
“Whatever works,” Ace mouthed and then held up the coin as high as he could, waiting for the Diamond Shark officers to fall silent.
“In war there are only two qualities that matter,” he declared loudly once most had stopped speaking. “Skill… and luck!” He tipped his head slightly towards Ellison. “I recognise you as my equal in skill, so all that remains in luck. Why should we complicate the matter further? Make your call: if you win, the worlds are yours. If you lose… then you and your warriors are mine.”
“I should call edge and make this a total mockery,” Ellison whispered before raising his voice. “I accept your terms. As you did, I shall call when the coin is in the air.”
“Seyla.” It was not Ace alone who said that, everyone said it.
He drew his arm down and then threw the coin up into the air. It glittered as it spun in the air, all eyes upon it.
Over and over as it rose.
“Heads,” the other man declared.
Over and over as it fell.
Ace watched it all the way and then snatched it out of the air. Like Ellison before him, he slapped it down on the back of his hand, leaving it covered until he had caught the other man’s eye.
“So, show me,” the Goliath Scorpion demanded.
Slowly, he moved his hand away.
Once again, the diamond shark was on top.
Ellison’s eyes narrowed to slots. “You… win…” he acknowledged slowly. Then he held out his hand, palm up. “Can I have the coin back before you make me a bondsman?”
Ace handed him the damon. “Welcome to Clan Diamond Shark. Rest assured, I will not waste your talents as a mere bondsman. We need warriors and officers, Galaxy Commander.”
“W-what?” the older man exclaimed, composure broken at first. “Galaxy Commander?”
“Of course, I told you that I recognised you as my equal,” Ace told him, somewhat smugly. “Your first mission for Clan Diamond Shark is to form your seekers and raw warriors from our newest sibkos into the new Tau Galaxy - which will be charged with defending our flank against the Outworlds Alliance.”
“What would you have done if I had won?” the newly promoted officer demanded.
“Who else could Suvorov appointed to garrison those worlds?” was Ace’s rhetorical reply.
Ellison threw his head back and laughed wildly for a moment. “Congratulations, I was defeated from the moment that you made your bid. Spectacular,” he admitted after he was done laughing. “You think those worlds are under threat.”
“Most likely. I think this alleged Star League will need to make some attempt to show their members in the Periphery that they are not simply fighting for the sake of the Inner Sphere. You have made a study of how the Outworlders defended those worlds from the SLDF. You may need to use similar tactics.”
“To hold the worlds if I can. If not, to tie down their forces and buy time for you to secure the rest of the Dominion,” the new Diamond Shark concluded. “A thankless task. Do I at least get a vote on the name of my new Clan?”
“Of course,” Steven Hawker stepped forwards to join them in the center of the hall. “Everyone will have their chance to vote - the date is early next year.” He offered Ellison Enders his hand. “Welcome to our ranks, Galaxy Commander Enders.”
“That still sounds wrong!” Ellison whined.
“You get used to it,” Ace assured him.
-
CSS Anchorage, Deep Space
Kerensky Cluster, Clan Homeworlds
24 December 3057
The passageways around the command briefing room of CSS Anchorage were packed with high ranking officers. Volume aboard warships was always at a premium and frequently shaped more by engineering needs than the ergonomics desired by the crew. What slack there was for comforts went into the quarters for the crew who might have to live aboard for years and combat efficiency. Places like briefing rooms had to be fitted in wherever they could be.
In this case, that meant inconveniently far from the shuttle bays and officers from every detachment of Task Force Topaz were trekking up the many decks separating the two locations, frequently forming long and disgruntled queues at chokepoints like elevators. Having spent most of a year aboard one of the Anchorage’s sister-ships, Tyra knew enough short-cuts to get most of the way without problems but the last stretch had no such options and she had to slip into line behind a powerfully built man in AFFC uniform.
They reached the front after a wait that her watch shamelessly claimed was only a few minutes, despite evidently being a near eternity and Tyra discovered that the problem causing the queue was a security checkpoint, where everyone’s identity card was being checked against their face and computer records.
Fortunately the man in front of her had his card ready and Tyra found hers quickly, not wanting to stall the higher-ranked officers behind her.
The guard accepted the Feddie’s card and ran it through his machine, then looked up at it’s owner. “Thank you, uh… your highness?”
“Please,” the man said with far more cheer than Tyra felt at this time, “No jokes about my height. I know I’m too large for these passageways.” He turned slightly as he went past the guard, showing some profile that would have been enough on its own to give away his identity: Peter Steiner-Davion, third in line to the two thrones of the Federated Commonwealth.
Tyra almost fumbled her own ID, so surprised she was at accidentally getting into arm’s reach of royalty. Fortunately, the guard was very nearly as surprised. It took him two tries to swipe her card. “You’re clear uh…” The young man paused. “Kapten?”
“I know,” she agreed, “I’m still ordered here.”
The guard ran the list again, while behind Tyra there was impatient muttering from the queue, all of whom were battalion commander or senior staff. She ignored them - what they were going to do, try to beat her up like Smoke Jaguar technicians?
After making sure, the guard let her through and it was the turn of the man behind her to hold up the queue as apparently he hadn’t got his identification card ready.
The briefing room itself wasn’t all that large and the seats were fairly obviously going to those with rank. Not even trying to get involved in that, Tyra slid along the wall to join the other junior attendees. In the dim light it took her a moment to reveal that she had found herself standing next to the prince again.
“Something wrong?” he asked genially, noticing her surprised look.
“I’m pretty sure no one would argue over you getting a seat, sir.”
“I’m young and fit,” Peter told her, “Chairs are for the old and busted.” Someone snorted in the dim light. “Besides, can you imagine someone my height crammed in there? I’d have my knees up beside my ears!” Now there were actual laughs from those leaning against the walls.
“Fair point,” Tyra agreed and turned her focus back to the small stage at the front of the room. It was only intended for one briefing officer, but currently there were three people on it, talking quietly among themselves. Well, at least the mission commanders weren’t off drinking coffee while everyone else got herded in here.
The room was warm with the number of people inside by the time the doors closed and the screen to the side of the stage lit up.
“Ladies and gentlemen, your attention.” Everyone fell silent as Marshal Marguerite McCaffee spoke up. The commander of the largest contingent in the expedition and also the entire Task Force was no taller than Tyra and she hadn’t raised her voice. She hadn’t needed to.
“I know we’re all crammed into tight quarters with little to do but wait, you should be used to that by now,” the Marshal told them. “Fortunately, our objectives are now in sight. I am sure that rumor proceeds me, but we have now confirmed that we are picking up radio traffic from both the Pentagon - the original worlds settled by Kerensky’s Exodus - and the Kerensky Cluster, which is the heartland of the Clans.”
At last, Tyra thought. From the look on the faces she could see, that seemed to be the general sentiment.
“So we can attack now?” someone asked boldly.
“A few things we have to do first,” McCaffee told them. “First, all the troops have been crammed into dropships for months. Physical conditioning isn’t shot, but it could be better, and there has been no realistic training for all that time. Secondly, we need to pinpoint our precise target. Precentor-Legate Beresick?”
Beresick edged past McCaffee to the front of the little stage and glanced at the screen, which was displaying star field. “Right now, we are here,” he said without pointing. A golden halo popped to life and pulsed rapidly for attention around one of the stars. “The Pentagon worlds are approximately here,” a region of space encompassing perhaps a dozen stars lit up in crimson. “And ahead of us is the Kerensky Cluster.” More crimson, around a much larger region of space.
“The stars between the two regions can be assumed to be heavily trafficked, which means we have to avoid them to avoid being identified and losing our advantage of surprise,” the ComGuards officer pointed out. “Our escort of Explorer Corps jumpships are going to lead the way as pathfinders, if you will. They’ll make several deep space jumps into the Kerensky Cluster. By avoiding star systems, the odds against them being located are literally astronomical but charging their drives without jumpsails will require that they use up a lot of hydrogen, thus the tankers we’ve been carrying will be going with them.”
“The third jump will take them into the cluster and the fourth is expected to take them into the center, probably near Strana Mechty itself. From here they will gather electronic and astronomical intelligence to let us reach a suitable target. Ideally, this will let us find the Smoke Jaguar capital of Huntress, the one world we have the most intelligence on thanks to Kapten Miraborg,” Beresick announced, gesturing towards Tyra. “Failing that, we believe that the Jade Falcon capital of Ironhold is also in a central location. Either of these will let us strike at an invading Clan, without sparking a confrontation with other Clans. We believe it is unlikely that either Clan would permit their neighbors to help them fight against us, as it would be a loss of face for them, limiting our opposition.”
“Over the two months of this phase of operations, Task Force Topaz will move to this system, which has been assigned the name Fisher.” A new golden light sprang to life on the edge of the Kerensky Cluster. “One of the Explorer Corps ships scouted the system and identified that it has a marginally habitable world - codenamed Topaz, in honor of our task force - with no Clan presence, probably because it isn’t suited for colonization.”
McCaffee tapped Beresick’s shoulder and took the lead. “As much as I am sure many of you want to launch the attack now, we want to carry out our mission at roughly the same time as the other counter-offensives, meaning we must wait at least one month. In addition, our troops need to get their edge back. On Topaz, we’ll carry out an exercise to blast some of the rust off. At the same time, we’ll be using Topaz’s limited surface water to obtain hydrogen to top up the fleet’s reactor mass. Entering the Kerensky Cluster will rely on deep space jumps just like our pathfinders, so we want to have enough hydrogen to completely replenish our tankers. Once that is done, we expect the actual attack in late February.”
“So before April?” Peter Steiner-Davion asked loudly.
“I see you have learned how military operations work, Kommandant,” the Marshal responded drily as chuckles swept the room. “The schedule may indeed slip, but we only have one shot at this so we are going to do this right. Speaking of which, Colonel Masters?”
Paul Masters stepped forward, the commander of the Knights of the Inner Sphere looking slightly uncomfortable at sharing the tight confines with the other two. “Landings on Topaz will be a rehearsal of our planned landings for the real operation,” he advised. “For these purposes, the plan is modeled around our information on Huntress.”
The screen moved to display a standard diagram of the orbital battlespace around a planet. “We will jump into the proximity point formed by Topaz and its star, less than thirty hours transit from the planet. Warships will go in first, to clear any defenses with the Flying Drakons providing cover against the Davion Guards fighters deployed ahead of them, and two destroyers will remain on guard over the jumpships and the tugs intended to move them to stay within the jump point as it circles the star. The other four destroyers will escort the dropships to Topaz, where the Davion Guards aerospace fighters will support them in engaging simulated orbital and surface to orbit weapons against resistance from the Flying Drakons.”
The display focused in on the planet’s surface. “From here, we will land on the coast plains. As much as it would add realism, we will not carry out an orbital drop of ‘mechs to secure the LZ as this could lead to genuine casualties, weakening our forces for the actual attack. Once on the ground, there will be two rounds of ground combat, firstly with the Knights of the Inner Sphere and supporting elements engaging several simulated Smoke Jaguar bases and facilities guarded by the Davion Guards, followed by the Guards carrying out a withdrawal under fire to the dropships, pursued by the Knights acting as a Smoke Jaguar relief force.”
The FWLM Colonel smiled thinly. “Once we have carried out all of that, there should be some time for R&R. While Topaz is a barren wasteland, it does have beaches and I am reliably informed that we are not yet out of beer. I’m sure our soldiers will make heroic efforts to correct that situation.”
“Does that mean our first objective on Huntress is a brewery?” asked some joker hidden by the dim lighting.
“Smoke Jaguar beer is terrible,” Tyra told him. “We want the warehouses where they store imports from the other Clans.”
“You see the advantages of bringing along someone with on-the-ground information,” Masters said drily. “However, before we jump to Topaz we will be celebrating Christmas. I would remind those of you who do not consider that a time for religious observance that it is because of those who do that you get to have parties, so please do not disturb the chaplains or their services.”
Tyra was surprised to be nudged by the prince as the briefing paused for a moment to let the operations officers take over the stage and begin a more detailed outline of the exercises. “Do you have any plans, Kapten? For Christmas.”
“No,” she said, puzzled. Her squadron would probably have plans but she hadn’t thought to enquire. She probably should have - what if they thought that she had planned something? She wasn’t particularly devout - when she was younger, Christmas had meant social obligations for her father and only limited time for a private family celebration.
Peter Steiner-Davion nodded. “We’re throwing a party on the White Storm,” he offered, naming one of the Overlord-class dropships carrying the task force’s ‘mechs. “You’d be welcome - I’m sure our aerojocks would like being a little less outnumbered.”
Is he asking me out on a date? Tyra wondered. He was several years her junior… “Is that open to my squadron?” she asked.
“The more the merrier,” he confirmed before the screen changed again and the briefing resumed.
-
Tyra and Peter? Totally shipping them.
Galaxy Commander Enders
So now all who hate the Galaxy Commander Enders have it in stereo.
-
I think her squadron is going to ship them HARD! :D
And in stereo indeed! ;D
-
Topaz been confusing me. I tried looking the world up on sarna and not found it. Is this a fan made Clan world?
-
Topaz been confusing me. I tried looking the world up on sarna and not found it. Is this a fan made Clan world?
It is an uninhabited world, named for the taskforce:
“Over the two months of this phase of operations, Task Force Topaz will move to this system, which has been assigned the name Fisher.” A new golden light sprang to life on the edge of the Kerensky Cluster. “One of the Explorer Corps ships scouted the system and identified that it has a marginally habitable world - codenamed Topaz, in honor of our task force - with no Clan presence, probably because it isn’t suited for colonization.”
(emphasis mine)
-
Opalescent Reflections
Full House
Chapter 9
Hilton Head, North America
Terra, Sol System
10 January 3058
Wei had written ‘the die is cast’ in the margins of her notes for the speech. She wasn’t sure where the phrase came from, probably some obscure military reference since she had heard it from Anastasius Focht. She recalled planning to look it up but she had never got around it.
“Are we ready, Nasty?” she asked him as preparations went on around the room. The idea that this was a historic moment had struck Sigma and Tau divisions, and they had insisted that her speech was to be recorded for posterity from every conceivable angle. It wasn’t as if ComStar was in the habit of losing records of formal speeches by a Primus, but this was getting out of hand.
The white-haired man looked up from where he was talking to Emma Centrella. “We are not getting any readier,” he said solemnly. “It is time.”
Wei looked at the clock and decided that he was speaking metaphorically, since the speech wasn’t due to begin for a few more minutes. She knew that ‘not getting any readier’ applied only to the ComGuards, because elements of Task Force Emerald and Task Force Opal were still arriving on post and would need weeks before they were ready for the planned operations. “Are you ready?” she asked the Magestrix, half-hoping for a denial. The plans had called for another month of preparation but the Clans had given the ideal provocation and the Star League Council, when polled, had decided it was better to move now than wait.
“If I had known that being voted in would mean staying longer on Terra, I might have declined it,” the Council Chair told her.
“I know the feeling,” Wei agreed sincerely. She’d felt Emma out on a bit of a tryst back when they were on Canopus a decade or so back, but - perhaps because her mother had been a particularly flamboyant New Hedonist - the magestrix claimed to be sincerely monogamous. Kyalla Centrella would probably have been more fun, Wei thought regretfully. On the other hand, the woman had enthusiastically invaded the Capellans back in the 3030s so she wouldn’t have been so politically reasonable.
You win some, you lose some, Wei thought philosophically. Perhaps she could slip away to Rio for a few days once she had delivered the speech. It wasn’t as if she could do much in terms of the military operations.
“Primus, one more minute,” one of the techs alerted her.
Where had those minutes gone?
Wei took the podium and a staffer rushed over to adjust the hang of her robes. “If you’re going to keep touching me like that, I should buy you dinner,” the Primus joked. The man backed off, blushing and then there were just seconds left.
The lights dimmed, leaving just Wei visible, standing at the podium with the banner of ComStar behind her. The signal light went on and the auto-prompter displayed the first lines of her speech.
“To all those who are listening, I am Wei Rong. Primus of ComStar, guardian of Terra and elected leader of all those who follow the Word of Blake.” She paused. “I stand here today to deliver a message to all of humanity, but particularly to those who lead the Clans of Kerensky and most specifically to the Khans and Council of Clan Steel Viper.”
“It has been the tradition of my Order since the time of the First Succession War to announce and decry acts that we deem atrocities. To speak for those whose voices have been silenced by war crimes and the acts of tyrants. It is also our tradition to remain neutral when it comes to the politics of the Inner Sphere. We document and we communicate, but it is very rare for us to do more than report on even the most serious of evils. This is not something to boast of, it is a matter of practicality: to survive we have been forced to compromise over and over. Worlds have burned, peoples have been oppressed, but I could count on these fingers the time that ComStar has spoken these words: ‘no more’.” She raised her hands.
“On the third of this month, a crime was committed upon the occupied world of Kowloon. Not, I am relieved to say, a deed of such infamy as the burning of Reykjavik, but a crime nonetheless. One that violated our neutrality and beyond that, any good sense. It was a pointless act of brutality, and has too often been the case, I brought the matter to those responsible - Clan Steel Viper and the Grand Council of the Clans.”
Wei took a deep breath. “The most polite response that I received stated that my protest was misguided,” she declared. “Other responses suggested that I should mind my own business, that they were shocked I would put my order’s neutrality above an order given by ‘Blake’s superior, Kerensky’; and most directly from Khan Perigard Zalman, that he would be delighted to dispense with ComStar’s services at the earliest opportunity.” She paused. “We will come back to that last.”
Wei took a sheet of paper from the podium and held it up, although it would take a very high definition display for anyone watching to read it. “The Steel Viper’s saKhan was good enough to inform me that the officer who marched into our hospice and murdered a patient in cold blood was carrying out Aleksandr Kerensky’s orders to eliminate the entirety of House Amaris.”
After letting that sink in, she nodded. “We will come back to that as well. In the meantime, the patient killed in our hospice was a certain Mr Richard Thurston-Moray, born on Apollo in 3021.” An admittedly rather poor quality hologram of a somewhat pudgy man in his mid-twenties appeared next to Wei. “Mr Thurston-Moray owned a small business on his homeworld, a recording studio established by his mother and catering to local music acts. After the Jade Falcon invasion in 3050, he appears to have sold the business in order to pay a smuggler to carry him off world to safety, arriving on Kowloon the following year with what remained of his savings. The fall of Kowloon more recently left Mr Thurston-Moray no similar means to escape.”
“On the seventeenth of December last year, Mr Thurston-Moray was taken into protective custody after he attempted to beg outside a post office claiming to be Stefan Ukris Amaris VII, a direct descendant of the original raising funds for a military campaign to expel the Clans and re-establish the Rim Worlds Republic. House Amaris is not thought warmly of on Kowloon and the sum total of donations received were fifty-three pfennig and a stick of chewing gum. Upon evaluation by the local judge and medical authorities, Mr Thurston-Moray was deemed unfit to stand trial for the minor misdemeanor of vagrancy by reason of clinical insanity.”
“Two and a half weeks later, one of Clan Steel Viper’s officers concluded that this justified the execution of one lonely and sad man who lost himself in delusions after losing everything of value in his life. If he had claimed to be the lost heir of Napoleon Bonaparte or to be the reborn Alexander the Great, it is likely that it would have passed without notice and he might have one day been able to come back to his senses and rebuild his life.”
She banished the image of the poor victim. “Let us return to the matter of House Amaris. The SLDF conducted a purge in the 2770s and 2780s on the order of General Kerensky, executing everyone bearing that family name, in an act of reprisal for the extermination of House Cameron by the Usurper. Records left to us indicate that Kerensky deemed it a distasteful obligation to his feudal lord and that he considered the matter fully resolved with no other members of the family left by the time of the Exodus.”
“Clan Steel Viper appears, with the approval of the other Clans, to consider this an open-ended order to eliminate anyone with any blood ties to Stefan Amaris. Their orders - not a secret, something they have openly announced - are for a systematic search across their occupation zone for anyone with the slightest blood ties to Stefan Amaris.”
“Everyone,” she said solemnly, “Every relative of the Usurper, no matter how distant, has been condemned to death. The Clans claim to have mastered genetic science but they would seem ignorant of the basic fact that every human being in existence has at least some blood connection to every other, even if that may be beyond any means of tracing due to thousands of years of separation. In issuing this decree, Clan Steel Viper has declared their intention to commit genocide against all humanity… including the other Clans and themselves.”
“The absurdity of this seems lost on Khan Zalman and since not one of the other Clans has chosen to restrain the Steel Vipers.” Wei leant heavily upon the podium. “Were it not for the innocent life lost, I would view this as comedy… but the consequences of this are tragedy.”
“Given their declarations of support for Clan Steel Viper’s violation of ComStar’s neutrality, I hereby grant Khan Zalman’s request to all of the Clans. As of receipt of this message, all ComStar HPG stations upon worlds occupied by the Clans are ordered to close their doors.” Somewhat theatrically, Wei lifted a pen and signed a document on the podium. “On my authority as Primus and with the support of the majority of the First Circuit, the Clans are hereby subject to Interdiction.”
The lights went out, leaving Wei in the darkness.
Just as billions were now left isolated by the removal of HPG service to their worlds, over a decision they had had no say over. The Clans had their own HPGs and would no doubt manage to provide for their own needs to some extent.
And hundreds of garrisons, ranging from platoons of less than forty troopers to entire combined arms battalions were being left cut off with the order to hold until relieved. DRUM analysts suspected that the Steel Viper Khans welcomed this confrontation; that they wanted ComStar to break off ties so that their warriors, frustrated by the Nova Cats and Jade Falcons’ decision to accept a truce, could take revenge for their previous defeat on Camlann.
The Steel Vipers might be prepared to strike. The troops of Operation Sapphire might be just in time - or they might be diving into a firestorm. No one knew.
Wei rested her elbows on the podium and as the cameras cut out and curtains were drawn back to allow natural light back into the room, she felt the sting of tears rolling down her cheeks.
Yamashiro, New Samarkand
Diamond Shark Dominion
5 February 3058
Ace wasn’t complaining, but if the team who’d broken into his office had been using guns then this would have been over by now.
Three men and one woman were trying to surround him, swords flashing as he parried urgently with his wakizashi and its scabbard. The ivory on the latter was cracked and cut, but fortunately the metal underneath was holding out. The two facing him were using longer blades - not quite katana length, which meant he couldn’t really reach their bodies with a riposte - but a katana would be less than ideal in the low ceilinged office.
The other two were trying going around his aide’s desk, which had been shoved into the middle of the room. Thomas was on the floor behind it, swearing - his right arm had taken a nasty cut in the first moments of the attack. All that stopped the pair from getting around to finish off Ace and the young trueborn was Shiro. The limited space didn’t seem to bother the old swordsman and he was keeping the two handily in check as well as threatening enough of the desk that climbing over it wasn’t feasible.
Ace fumbled a parry with a blade glancing off the scabbard (causing another nick) and had to jerk back, seeing the silver gleam of one swordsman’s blade pass within inches of his eyes. He backstepped, getting his balance back and driving a cut from the other attacker aside - the man had to draw his weapon back rather than get entangled in the desk.
Another cut that Ace managed to parry came closer to the wall and he twisted his shorter blade, trying to catch the man’s wrist. Unfortunately the swordsman recognised the move and shifted back to avoid the attack.
All three of them were breathing heavily and paused - swordplay like this was exhausting - and the moment drew attention to the cry of the man facing Shiro, a curiously frothy sound that was explained by the blood pouring from his throat. The man tried to staunch the flow with his free hand but it clearly wasn’t working.
Shiro hadn’t managed it unscathed though - in extending for the cut he’d opened his guard enough for the woman to make a cut and while the mechwarrior’s wound was less serious than his foes - two fingers were missing from his left hand - any injury could be debilitating enough to change the tide of the fight.
The taller of Ace’s assailants seemed to be in charge: “Help her with the old man!” he barked.
“But he is Ace Enders!” the shorter one protested, demonstrating a complete inability to recognise who was the better swordsman.
“Do as I say!”
The junior man did so but was apparently so sulky that he missed the first sign of Thomas returning to the fight. Grabbing a heavy paperweight, the trueborn threw it left handed into the face of the leader.
The projectile lacked the accuracy it might have but none of the force - at this range, the power of the throw was barely abated as the ornamental stone disk smashed into the man’s jaw, breaking it.
The swordsman staggered back against the wall for an instant and Ace lunged forwards, dropping his scabbard to catch the man’s right wrist in his left hand. A moment later and his wakizashi was buried in the assassin’s chest.
“Hikaru!” last man exclaimed, turning back to Ace. Much to his own alarm, the galaxy commander realized that getting his sword out of the ribcage was going to be harder than getting it in had been.
There was a boom and the locked door to the office - one of the assassins had had the presence of mind to secure their rear in the first seconds of the attack - was violently unlocked by means of a shotgun. A heavy boot opened the door the rest of the way. “Thomas! Down!”
The trueborn dropped to the ground at the sound of a shotgun’s pump action and the swordsman had just enough to half-turn before Sasha fired the gun a second time, catching his left shoulder, throat and jaw with a load of buckshot. The shoulder and jaw might have survived but the throat didn’t and the half-decapitated swordsman dropped to the ground, evidently dying.
The last assassin screamed and tried to get over her last comrade at Ace. “For the -”
Her raised blade scraped the ceiling as she leapt over the dying man, sending her stumbling. Ace snatched the shorter sword from his victim and thrust it forwards, opening the woman’s belly.
Guts spilled out, adding a foul odor to the smell of blood, and her mouth opened in silent agony, lungs emptied by the earlier warcry. Before she could refill them, Ace swept the sword back around on reflex and her head left company with her shoulders.
“Blake’s blood,” Sasha muttered, looking around the office. “All the blood.”
Ace followed his gaze and nodded. He’d need a new office… but first things first. “We need a medic. Has anyone else been attacked?”
“Not this time, that I know of.” Sasha looked at the fallen bodies. “No guns?”
“It is a matter of honor,” Shiro said solemnly, face losing some of its color as adrenaline faded. “Ace Enders served as the second to Hohiro Kurita. It would only be fitting that he die by the sword rather than a gun.”
Ace looked at his borrowed sword, which had what seemed like screw holes in two places along it. “Or they could not smuggle guns past our security. I would be fascinated to learn how they got these in.”
“Both are possible,” the old man allowed.
“Thomas, Shiro,” Ace ordered, “If there’s no other attack then go to the medical section - you have both done well.” They’d saved his life and he was not going to forget it.
“Yes sir,” Thomas acknowledged. “Come on, old man.”
“Yes yes, do not rush me.” Shiro wiped his sword clean on his sleeve before sheathing it.
“Are you hurt, sir?” asked Sasha.
Ace checked that he hadn’t missed anything. “No,” he confirmed. Dropping his borrowed sword on Thomas’ desk, he went back to the leader and with both hands he managed to retrieve the wakizashi. There was a cleaning kit for the swords in his own desk and he opened the drawer so he could clean the weapon.
Hitting the button for the security desk, Ace pinned the head-set between his ear and his shoulder so that he’d have both hands free for the cleaning cloth and wakizashi. “Security!”
“Security desk,” an accented voice confirmed. “Is this… ah, reporting Galaxy Commander!” she added, obviously having read the caller ID.
“Is that Karrin?” Ace asked, recognising the accent. “Good, I need a forensics team and a guard for my office. Four assassins got past our security and I want to know how.”
“Yes sir,” the woman replied, dread behind her business-like tone. Understandable since that reflected a failure by the security while she was on the desk. There was a bleep over the comm. “Point Commander Harry has the first reaction squad, I will call forensics next.” She was probably more familiar with the process than he was - before being recruited for aerospace training, she had been attending a Combine police academy.
“I just need one guard, not a full squad.” He examined the sword blade and then folded the cloth to wipe it again.
“There could be a second squad waiting for our guard to go down, sir,” Karrin told him firmly. “The rest of the squad can sweep your wing of the palace to make sure.”
“Fair point,” Ace allowed. “Tell Harry that Thomas and Shiro are on the way to the medical section.” The elemental and Thomas were often found together. He wasn’t sure why and it wasn’t really Ace’s business, but he figured Harry would make sure the other two didn’t get sidetracked before their wounds were treated.
“Will do, sir,” the woman promised.
“You are not going to keep working here?” Sasha asked as Ace retrieved the handset and dropped it back in the desk.
“My desk is just fine,” Ace pointed out - the room was L-shaped with the aide’s desk taking up the shorter leg and partially blocking access around the corner to where Ace worked.
The mechwarrior gestured to the mess and then sniffed illustratively.
“I suppose you are right.” He was about to pick up the comm unit to arrange another office when it pinged to indicate an inbound call. Putting sword and cleaning kit down, Ace lifted it. “Enders.”
“Sir, you have an HPG message from Khan Sennet.”
“Live, quineg?” he asked, incredulously. New Samarkand had its own HPG under Diamond Shark control, so losing the ComStar station to the Interdiction wasn’t so bad here, but there wasn’t even a single chain of stations left around the Draconis Rift, much less the double chain needed for realtime comms.
“Neg, sir. Relayed by jumpship to Charity.”
“Send it through.” The interdict wasn’t a small problem, it was wreaking havoc with organizing the flow of both trade and military supplies across the Dominion. What was worse was that every world Ace had heard from had an insurgency group going active as soon as ComStar cut services. Whether it was coordinated or just opportunistic didn’t really matter: half of Epsilon Galaxy was spread out helping to put the uprisings down.
This assassination attempt was the third attempt on the palace this week, and the first not to kill at least one warrior. Progress, technically.
“News about the vote?” suggested Sasha lightly as the comm unit’s screen lit up.
Ace gave him a sour look. The interdiction had also interrupted the voting over the Clan’s name. While each world could count it’s own votes, without HPG comms it would take months for that count to be relayed and at least one rebel group was proclaiming that the entire interdiction had been ordered by conservative Diamond Sharks to cover up a result they didn’t like. The fact that New Samarkand and at least six worlds nearby had strong votes for the Sea Fox name and associated policy only gave that claim credibility.
Damn the Steel Vipers!
Barbara Sennet’s face appeared on Ace’s screen. Perhaps it was his imagination but it looked as if she had new lines on her face. “Galaxy Commander Enders,” she declared without prelude. “The Dominion has been attacked from two directions.”
Ace slammed his fist against the desk. Of course the Combine was attacking now!
“As anticipated, Clan Ice Hellion and Clan Hells Horse have made appearances along our periphery border,” the Khan continued. “Attacks have been as far apart as Richmond on the border with the Smoke Jaguars and Gravenhage, near Qandahar. Gamma Galaxy was already on the way to the region to deal with ComStar enclaves but I must now lead Alpha Galaxy to join them - garrison and Spina forces are buying time but we will need massed frontline forces to face them.”
The khan paused. “Analysis of Chatterweb messages in the homeworlds has allowed us to make a solid estimate of the supplies available to the two Clans. Solid resistance now has a realistic chance of exhausting their logistical support before they dig in, but I am estimating six to twelve months. Fortunately the Ice Hellions have already attacked one ComStar enclave, so they have made themselves an enemy now. For now, I am ordering a halt in attacks on ComStar enclaves: there are no reports of their garrisons taking the offensive so we can afford to wait.”
“No reinforcements,” whispered Sasha.
Ace nodded in agreement. Without Alpha and Gamma Galaxies, it would be down to Epsilon Galaxy to back up the rest of the forces all along the border.
Sennet rubbed her face. “The second attack hit Itabaiana and Labrea.”
Ace jerked upright in his chair. Where?! Those worlds were well behind the frontlines.
“Leo Showers has led two galaxies of Smoke Jaguars across the Rasalhague Rift,” the khan continued. “Based on the timing we believe that this was coordinated with Khans Fletcher and Taney, or at least planned with advance knowledge of their attack. If he continues to advance, he threatens the core of our holdings here.”
“Luthien,” Sasha guessed.
“Pesht and Irece are also in that area,” Ace reminded him. Not to mention other industrial worlds - there were two jumpship yards within jump of Luthien.
“As much as I would like to use Alpha Galaxy to face Showers, Gamma Galaxy alone will not be able to stop the Horses and the Hellions. In the worst case we could lose them and the entire corewards half of the Dominion. I have ordered Omega Galaxy reinforced with every warrior we can find and they will buy us time: you are to assemble a relief force and cross the Dominion to face the Jaguars. I am aware that this exposes the worlds on your side of the Draconis Rift to risk but we can afford losses there more than we can elsewhere.”
Sennet closed her eyes for a moment. “Your acquisition of Tau Galaxy and masquerading as Beta Galaxy have angered many of the Clan Council, but they may stave off disaster. We have no reports yet of Inner Sphere attacks on the Dominion, so they may have not been ready to take advantage of the Interdiction. Clearly that will not last, so the Jaguars need to be repelled as quickly as possible. You have my complete confidence and I am authorizing you to take command over the other Galaxy Commanders regardless of seniority.”
Then her eyes snapped open and she was all shark: “Kill Showers if you can - their saKhan is in the homeworlds so she cannot control commanders here. But whatever you do, it must be quick and decisive. What we lack most is time.”
The screen went dead and Ace exhaled slowly. “This could not be worse.”
“Well, clearly it could. At least the Combine is not attacking,” offered Sasha.
Ace opened the folder still lying on his desk from before the assassins reached the office. Inside was a single short message, written not typed. A Diamond Shark jumpship had reached Tabayama the previous day and its HPG was one of the few that had been patched up with available parts, undoing ComStar’s sabotage. New Samarkand was just barely in range to pick up HPG messages from there. Ace showed it to Sasha.
“FWLM and AFFC dropships on approach to Jordan Weis,” Sasha read quietly. “Escorted by Outworlder fighters. Send help. Ellison Enders, Tau Galaxy Commander.” He dropped the paper back on the table. “Oh.”
Ace nodded. Failure to respond would reveal that the Clan no longer had a reserve in the area. But they could not afford to leave Showers free to claim what had once been the industrial core of the Combine either.
“What are you going to do? Khan Sennet ordered us to reinforce Omega Galaxy, so we must comply, quiaff?”
Ace studied the ceiling for a moment and then… a smile crept across his face. “Neg… she ordered me to reinforce Omega Galaxy.”
-
Imperial City, Irurzun
Benjamin Military District, Draconis Combine
19 February 3058
The great hall dwarfed even the throneroom of the palace (which was in an entirely different building), intended for ceremonial events where everyone, including the Coordinator, might need to move around. Today, for the first time, Minoru thought that it might be packed with a banquet for over three thousand guests (and around half that many servants in or nearby.
With so many people, it couldn’t possibly have been intimate and the reception line had been a major struggle, with several people ‘pre-emptively’ greeted the day before on the understanding that they wouldn’t have much chance of actually meeting the Coordinator or his most important guests on the day itself, even to exchange bows.
At some point between that unreasonable scale of events, the necessary ceremonies had been carried out and Minoru had found (by virtue of only limited time to eat earlier) that he had quite an appetite. Unfortunately, even this was scheduled and even if the staff hadn’t been making pleading looks, the increasing sound as guests imbibed more wine than they did food would have been a hint.
Minoru wasn’t exactly reluctant as he turned to Atsuko and lifted her hand so that he could kiss the back of it. The young lady blushed demurely and her father gave Minoru a pleased look. He probably should be pleased: in addition to the informal advantages he had just accrued, he had been granted courtly positions that granted him the right to enter the Imperial City at his own recognizance (not assured even to the nobility) and immunity to prosecution except by the Coordinator.
It would be a public embarrassment for the Coordinator’s father-in-law to be brought before any court, so while Oda Hideyoshi could still be detained by law enforcement, any consequences would now be for Minoru alone to decide.
The chair was heavy and a servant discreetly pulled it back from the table so Minoru could stand. Just in case someone missed him doing so (the back of the hall was quite some distance away), the man at his right hand also stood up from his much more manageable chair. “Noble gentlemen and virtuous ladies of the Draconis Combine,” Franklin Kurita announced by way of a discreet microphone. “Hearken to the words of Lord Kurita upon his wedding day!”
Accepting the microphone from his… brother - and an encouraging nod from his sister, who sat between Franklin and the tai-sa who was Franklin’s plus one for the occasion, Minoru turned back to the hall and felt a slight surge of stage fright. It would have been nice, he thought, to have ‘forgotten’ his contact lenses and been able to pretend he was looking at a blur and not a crowd of thousands. Alas, someone would have noticed him squinting.
“Loyal sons and daughters of the Dragon,” he greeted them. “Though today is a marital occasion, it gives me pleasure to acknowledge the brave soldiers who have done my wife and I the honor of returning the world of Tok Do to the Draconis Combine, after years under the paw of the Ghost Bears. As our noble samurai win victories upon worlds as far removed as Shirotori and Cerberus, the Clans have been forced to bow in acknowledgment of the dynasty of Kurita, to whose numbers Atsuko Kurita is added this day.”
Hoping that would satisfy the militants, Minoru lifted the glass in front of him in salute. “Though it is an abiding regret that my parents are unable to attend today, nor to take my lovely wife into their embrace, I have no doubts of their approval. Indeed, my grandfather would no doubt be pleased that I am not keeping my wedding a secret for over a decade.” If anyone else had mentioned that it would be a faux pas, but as a means to invoke the revered Takashi Kurita, it would serve from Minoru’s lips.
“Though I am young in years, I benefit today not only in my beloved wife but also in her wise father,” he continued. “Wounded upon the sacred soil of Luthien, Marquis Oda Hideyoshi nonetheless survived and returned to us as so many have, pouring his time and energy into recovery not only for himself but of many others.” Certainly there were political reasons behind Hideyoshi’s open support for wounded soldiers, both those able to return to the battlefield and to those who could not… but had been needed and the marquis had provided.
“Like my new father, the Combine has suffered reverses, but undaunted it rises once again,” Minoru declared. “A toast to my father-in-law!”
He sipped from his glass and everyone else did likewise - though some gulped rather than sipped. He, on the other hand, did not want clouded wits.
“I have many words for my dear wife,” the Coordinator said, looking down at her for a moment. “But I will save most of them to be said in private. For now: ten thousand years of good fortune to Lady Kurita!”
“Ten thousand years!” almost half that many voices called, a wave of sound that washed over Minoru as he finished his glass.
A servant pulled Atsuko’s chair during the toast, since she naturally wasn’t drinking to her own good fortune. Minoru extended his hand to her and helped her to his feet, then offered her his arm. She threaded her arm through his, a pleasantly warm pressure against his size.
The marquis accepted the microphone and offered a toast of his own, to the happy couple. Minoru was barely listening and simply waved in acknowledgement as more cheers went up.
A few steps back from the table and curtains were pulled across to screen them from the hall. For a brief moment, Minoru was alone with Atsuko - not in public or chaperoned. Then three others slipped through the curtains, removing that privacy.
“Don’t glower at us, brother,” Omi chided mildly.
“I’m not glowering.”
“I have one or two words of advice for my sister-in-law,” she told him. “You come along as well, tai-sa.”
Lainie Shimazu looked quite startled to be pulled aside as well - the commander of the Ninth Ghost Regiment was fairly well born from certain points of view but she was only acceptable as a guest at the wedding due to her military rank and Franklin’s support. Either alone would have not been enough.
Minoru and Franklin looked at each other, speechless for a moment. The younger brother arched an eyebrow but refrained from asking if the two were serious directly.
For his part, the illegitimate brother shrugged slightly. He looked more like their father than Minoru, not quite an image of the young Theodore but too close to deny the kinship. “Is Omi always so quick to take charge?”
“When she feels it is her obligation,” Minoru told him ruefully. “She is keeper of the house honor, after all.”
Franklin frowned. “Do I want to know what she is saying?”
“Probably not. I imagine it will either end your relationship with the tai-sa - whatever it is, and I will not pry - or solidify it.” Minoru felt a smile tease at the corners of his mouth at Franklin’s outraged expression and fought it back. “She has an important responsibility: House Kurita may rule the Combine but it is the Keeper who must make the rules for House Kurita. If you are serious about Shimazu then she will also be Omi’s charge one day.”
“I am older than her.”
“I can tell that you are inexperienced with sisters.” Minoru glanced at the curtains and took a peek through them rather than focus on his sister’s whispered conversation. Through in the banquet hall, decorum was still holding but more drinks were being served along with desserts that likely wouldn’t soak up the alcohol.
Franklin was looking at him when he looked back. “Do you have any more instructions for me?” he asked.
Minoru shook his head. “No, you know what to expect from Li Dok To.” Franklin would be traveling with Shimazu’s regiment to the border - officially to reinforce the border against counter attacks but also to be ready for the proposed attack on Galedon. “He is enthusiastic to reclaim Galedon V, but he knows that risking you will do him no favors.”
“Even when I am not your only heir?” the older man asked lightly.
“Even then.” Minoru paused and then added: “Losing one brother was dreadful, do not put me through that again… brother.”
Franklin paused and then patted Minoru’s shoulder. “Likewise. I may be safer away from the court than you are.”
“Hopefully not. The factions in court know how dire our state will be if we do not remain divided.”
“For now,” Franklin said slowly. “But if that pressure is removed…”
It was a fair point, Minoru allowed privately. But the ladies were back with them now and thus their conversation was over. A moment of farewells and then Minoru led Atsuko out of the antechamber, leaving his siblings behind. Both would be leaving early the next morning - Franklin for Galedon District and Omi back to the Federated Commonwealth.
A small limousine was waiting for the married couple, whisking them across the palace in minutes. Although the driver and the Otomo trooper in the front were both discreetly quiet, their presence still felt repressive to Minoru. He looked at Atsuko and found her looking back at him. She flushed again and lowered her eyes. He saw her feet shift awkwardly in the footwell.
“Do your feet hurt?” he asked her quietly.
“A little,” she admitted embarrassedly.
“You can take off your shoes,” he offered.
Atsuko looked bemused. “But won’t we have to walk into yo- into our rooms?”
“I believe it is traditional for the groom to carry the bride across the threshold,” Minoru suggested, smiling.
The tips of her ears, only visible because she had her hair up, went red. “Let’s not,” she said shyly.
The limousine pulled up at that point and Minoru got out first, taking Atsuko’s hand and trying to match his pace to hers as they entered the residence. There was an outer layer of rooms with traditional paper and wood construction, mostly used for guests. But the core of the building was more solidly built, in token of the need to protect those inside from the risks of their royal station. Only three doors led into the two adjoining suites, all guarded and with access tightly restricted.
“My wife and I can manage from here,” Minoru ordered as servants came to attend them. “Leave us.”
The little squad backed off obediently and he closed the door firmly before looking over Atsuko. “I’m not actually entirely sure I know how to help you out of the dress,” he admitted, “But we’re both clever people and there is little enough privacy in my days. I may need your guidance.”
She offered him a small smile. “It will be our first task working together, my lord.” There was a little emphasis to the ‘my’ that he rather liked.
In the master bedroom, Minoru escorted her formally to sit on the bed before going to the side table and popping out his contact lenses. It only took a moment to replace them with his glasses. “The vanity of my office,” he explained in a light tone. “The Coordinator’s vision cannot be seen to be imperfect.”
Atsuko nodded slightly. “I think they suit you better,” she said after a moment. “You look more the scholar… but perhaps you are right about public perceptions.”
“Now,” he asked, “Where do we begin?”
In reply, she lifted one foot off the floor and started to kick off her shoes.
It took several minutes before they were free of their outer layers. Sometimes the process was playful, sometimes awkward. Minoru concluded after his shirt was off that Atsuko’s increasing hesitance was nervousness. She was still wearing her undergown, with her hair loose down her back. His fingers itched to go back to stroking it’s silky length,
“Would you like to sit a while?” he asked, indicating a couch against one wall.
“I think so,” his wife agreed softly, then yelped as he lifted her in both arms and carried her the short distance, sitting her down gently at one end.
Stepping back for a moment to admire her, he found his own seat at the far end of the couch, sitting at an angle so that their bare feet were almost brushing each other. “We will be learning about each other for years,” he offered quietly. “Is there something you would like to ask?” A ‘married life’ guide book he had found suggested that exchanging confidences would help with the relationship.
Atsuko swallowed. “My… Minoru? Why did you marry me?”
Oh. Minoru blinked at the directness.
“I’m not unhappy,” she exclaimed, apparently realizing how it sounds. “It’s just… why me of all women? You could have married anyone.”
Not quite anyone, a little voice whispered and he drove the idea from his head. Minoru had spent enough time soul-searching over whether he was approaching her as a substitute for… another. He had decided that he was not, and this was not the time to second-guess himself.
“I courted you,” he stressed the verb intentionally. “Because you are beautiful, socially acceptable and politically advantageous.” Then, before her face could do more than fall slightly, he reached out for her hand. “I married you, because having courted you I felt you were someone I wanted to grow old with.”
Her eyes went wide. And her fingers closed around his.
For a moment they sat in silence. “Is there something you would like to do, as the Lady Kurita? There are formally expectations, but there is plenty of precedent to reach out beyond it. My grandmother was a patron of the arts… I’m not sure what mother would have done, she might have continued to serve in the DCMS.”
“I’m not sure,” the young woman asked. “I have managed father’s household since… for several years, I think I could do the same for you, although it’s on a grander scale.”
“That would help.” He agreed. “But that can’t be everything.”
“I… I’d like to travel? Not as far as your sister. I admire her for going into the Federated Commonwealth alone,” Atsuko confided, “but I rarely get the chance to leave home.”
His sister had an entire embassy to back her up, so she was hardly alone. This probably wasn’t the time to explain that though. “That can certainly be arranged. We can go to Terra together for the next Star League Council meeting,” Minoru suggested. “And there will be other opportunities.”
Her face brightened. “I’d love that!” He was very conscious that her chest was… not very contained by the undergown and had to pull his attention away. There was a brush of skin against his foot and then it was withdrawn.
“Minoru,” Atsuko said cautiously. “My father is likely to give me advice to pass on to you.”
That was inevitable, he thought. The man would have plenty of chances to advise him directly, but that obviously wouldn’t be enough for him. “You can give me your own advice, you know…”
“But what if I gave advice that you hated?” she asked warily. “I… not that I’d want to, but I’m not educated the way a man would be.”
“I doubt many people agree with me on everything,” he told her reassuringly, running one thumb gently over her knuckles. “It’s possible there isn’t anyone at all. I could still get plenty of advisors who agree with me on everything, but they would be doing so to ingratiate themselves not to help me.” He leant forwards and raised her hand to his lips, dropping a gentle kiss on the knuckles. “Your mind is one of the reasons I fell in love with you.”
“One… of them?” Atsuko asked, leaning forwards to meet him.
“Shall I tell you about the others?” He slipped one hand behind her head to caress her hair.
They found other things to do with their lips, thereafter.
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If any one person could take down Showers, it's Ace! ;D
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It would be another step towards the title Ace of Khans.
It looks like his deception tilted the scales towards DC going after Bears. With Comstar shutting down the HPGs in the occupation zone, how long will it take for the Star League to learn about the tripartite invasion of Shark zone?
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In OTL, Hideyoshi was a member of the Black Dragons.
I wonder how long Minoru can last once Atsuko gives birth to a heir.
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Only on Kowloon...
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In OTL, Hideyoshi was a member of the Black Dragons.
I wonder how long Minoru can last once Atsuko gives birth to a heir.
This time around, he´s in a position very close to Minoru, closer than any Black Dragon in OTL, and Minoru trusts him, more so than OTL Theodore trusted him or any of the other Black Dragons. He might feel that being able to mold Minoru and his heir is preferable to risking exposure in a plot to murder Minoru, successful or not.
Plus, right now (unlike during the OTL attempt on Theodore in 3058) the Combine is against the ropes, so he might not want to risk a civil war against those rallying behind Omi (and/or Franklin), or even just purges of likely Omi/Franklin supporters in the military.
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Only on Kowloon...
hey, 57 Phennigs AND a stick of gum...That's like hardcore Charity right there.
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Only on Kowloon...
Mister Richard Thurston-Moray is "Stefan Amaris VII" of Star Lord fame... so, no, not just on Kowloon.
And the fact that Dawn got reinstated as a warrior, and later earned a bloodname, after presenting his head to the Steel Viper clan council, suggests that he may indeed have been a descendant of the original Stefan Amaris.
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Mister Richard Thurston-Moray is "Stefan Amaris VII" of Star Lord fame... so, no, not just on Kowloon.
And the fact that Dawn got reinstated as a warrior, and later earned a bloodname, after presenting his head to the Steel Viper clan council, suggests that he may indeed have been a descendant of the original Stefan Amaris.
Yah, but see, even a Kowloonese would point out, "Even the Rimjobs stopped after the third generation". HOW many generations has it been?
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VI at least... ;D
And I too was amazed at how much he had collected! :D
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hey, 57 Phennigs AND a stick of gum...That's like hardcore Charity right there.
57 Phennigs more than I thought. At least we got a Kowloon reference, thanks drakensis.
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On Kowloon, that's all pity... no sane person would claim relation to the guy they hang in effigy every year.
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I'm guessing it's from other foreigners stuck on Kowloon.
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That's the best guess so far, especially considering the recent conquest...
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Don't forget, it could be the orderlies seeing him as a charity case.
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Actually, in the foreword of the House Davion sourcebook, the writer says the following:
On a personal note, I would like to thank ComStar Director Julian Tiepolo for entrusting me with this project. Not only was it a great personal honor to serve ComStar—and truth—in this way, but it also gave me the opportunity to research the factual history of my purported ancestor, Stefan Amaris.
—Anastasia Marcus, Historical Director, Davion Research Project, ComStar Archives, Terra, 3028
So it's highly probable there are actual descendants of Stefan Amaris around, children born from his concubines.
What's funny is that they (the steel vipers) thought there was just one descendant. How does that make sense at all?
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Actually, in the foreword of the House Davion sourcebook, the writer says the following:
So it's highly probable there are actual descendants of Stefan Amaris around, children born from his concubines.
What's funny is that they (the steel vipers) thought there was just one descendant. How does that make sense at all?
Your asking Clanners, who engage in blood libel, to make sense? Remember, in the canon, a Steel Viper Khan is out hunting anyone tangentially related to the Wolverines, including family lines that didn't migrate with Kerensky.
Yesterday you didn't know what 'Clans' were, this morning you're being murdered because the second cousin of one of your ancestors was part of the not-named clan over 200 years ago.
D'ya really think people who'll do that, wouldn't do the same over anyone faintly maybe-related-kinda to Stephan Amaris??
That's the best guess so far, especially considering the recent conquest...
It's not MY version of Kowloon, it's Drakensis' version, there are going to be differences, including his being a Kowloon that would actually survive as a habitable place after being conquered rather than needing the Clan version of 'Exterminatus' before they'll surrender.
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Actually, in the foreword of the House Davion sourcebook, the writer says the following:
So it's highly probable there are actual descendants of Stefan Amaris around, children born from his concubines.
What's funny is that they (the steel vipers) thought there was just one descendant. How does that make sense at all?
Worse, in this case, they're not just going for descendants of Stefan Amaris, but, just ask Kerensky had all members of the Amaris family that the SLDF could find executed, the Clans have pledged to eliminate anyone with any blood or genetic relation to Stefan Amaris. That means going back to common ancestors.
That doesn't take long: in the real world, you need only go back to the ninth century for everyone of European descent to have a common set of ancestors, even if in many cases they no longer have any of their genetic material.
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Also from House Davion:
It is with some embarrassment that I come to the subject of my own ancestry. When Kerensky’s troops slaughtered everyone in the Rim Worlds that bore the name Amaris, they overlooked maternal cousins with names like Siever, Wong, Chan, and Marcus.
With the danger of being even distantly related to Amaris, people with those names fled the Rim Worlds. My own family settled in the Outworlds Alliance. I honestly do not know if I am a descendant of Stefan the Usurper. Genealogical records that might have cleared up my ancestry were destroyed in the aftermath of the war. It is a reflection of my parents’ macabre sense of humor that they named me Anastasia, after the Terran legend of Anastasia Romanov, daughter of the last Russian Czar.
Our research has resolved one matter, however. No conclusive link can be found between Amaris and anyone still living. With such total lack of pedigree, anyone claiming relationship to Amaris, let alone claiming leadership to any of the Rim Worlds (now the Bandit Kingdoms) on the basis of such a claim, can be assumed to be a pretender or a usurper. We can hope that the shame that my putative kinsman brought to the Periphery will never be revived, and that the carnage he brought to the Inner Sphere will never be forgotten.
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As Cannonshop mentioned, a "conclusive link" isn't remotely necessary for the clanners...
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As Cannonshop mentioned, a "conclusive link" isn't remotely necessary for the clanners...
Canon clanners are different from Ngoverse clanners.
And they had no reason to NOT want very good evidence before they believed a disgraced former warrior.
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Clanners have devolved to warcrime babies. Using the excuse of honor to murder. Hell, any related to the subject the Ghost Bears had entire class of cadet age siblings commite ritual suicide because they were from a tainted ancientry, reaving them.
A sick sort of justice in the setting for sure in Canon. Just another reason not like Clan culture. Why I think ilClan era is going have some nasty landmines fictional wise to come.
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Canon clanners are different from Ngoverse clanners.
And they had no reason to NOT want very good evidence before they believed a disgraced former warrior.
Yah, Canon are worse. that doesn't apply here, these are Drakensis Clanners, as in, 'not Ngoverse' , so the comparison really doesn't matter between how I write the Clans, vs. how the Canon writes them.
What matters, is how Drakensis writes them. however, the lack of 'conclusive proof' is actually Canon with the Clans, whose justice system really does boil down, not to 'find the guilty' but instead, 'find someone to punish so the civilians know we're serious'.
It's open to further discovery how Drakensis views that, and whether it's a quirk of SOME clans and not others, or if it's universal, and if so, how bad is it? but given how many generations since the Amaris War, and they're still punishing people? or how far afield Breen's little murder mission has to go to find what she's after? Or, that they're even still looking?
That's what the man would call an 'indicator'. we're talking more than ten generations, even the historical Mongols stopped at three, even the third reich stopped before then with their 'blood purity' laws.
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Clanners have devolved to warcrime babies. Using the excuse of honor to murder. Hell, any related to the subject the Ghost Bears had entire class of cadet age siblings commite ritual suicide because they were from a tainted ancientry, reaving them.
A sick sort of justice in the setting for sure in Canon. Just another reason not like Clan culture. Why I think ilClan era is going have some nasty landmines fictional wise to come.
What sibko did the Ghost Bears reave? I don't recall that right off hand.
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It was in the novel Betrayal of Ideals. An adopted Wolverine scientist used Wolverine genes in several sibkos.
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as much fun as it might be to go into the pseudoscientific ideas underlying the Clans and their Eugenics program (and believe me, it is fun to dismantle this kind of shit), the fact is, we're distracting from the story and I'd like to see how the story plays out.
can we table it for now? I know I've made the mistake of encouraging the tangent, and I apologize to everyone for that.
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Agreed!
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Opalescent Reflections
Full House
Chapter 10
Dali, Tamar
Clan Wolf Occupation Zone
9 March 3058
“I’m pretty sure this is the place I’m least useful right now,” Natasha told Ulric in lieu of any greeting as she entered his office. Judging by her rumpled jumpsuit and the duffel bag she tossed into a corner of the room, she had come straight from the dropship that had brought her back from Rasalhague. “Rasalhague is a lot closer to all those ComStar enclaves along the periphery border - places we could be picking off now that we don’t have to play nice with the Robes any more.”
“The situation is a little more complicated than that,” Ulric told her, gesturing towards the couch. He went to the mini-fridge and pulled out two bottles of Timbiqui Dark.
“You’re sharing the good stuff?” Natasha exclaimed, snatching both from his hands. “We must be in trouble - get one for yourself.”
“Thank you,” he said sarcastically. “I will.” There had only been four bottles of Timiqui Dark left in the fridge. Ulric made a mental note to restock, and possibly to branch out into other beers. There had to be some limit to the ducal cellars and he wasn’t getting any more Timbiqui Dark shipped in - the planet was well beyond the truceline.
By the time Ulric had opened his own bottle, Natasha was halfway through her first. “So what is so sensitive that I had to wait to come here for you to tell me?” she demanded.
“Less sensitive and waiting for more information to arrive,” he told her. “Tamar is reasonably central so even with half the HPGs out of action news is getting through.”
She waved the bottle she hadn’t opened yet in a ‘get on with it gesture’, the other bottle currently occupying her mouth.
“Don’t open that now,” Ulric warned, looking at the closed bottle. He didn’t need his office sprayed with beer. “The interdiction isn’t our only problem right now. We’ve lost other HPGs at both ends of the occupation zone and that may get worse before it gets better.”
“Who’s attacking them?” Natasha asked, setting the empty bottle aside.
“At the rimwards edge, units operating under the banner of the Star League.” The invasion had begun with the goal of restoring the Star League and apparently the Clans had succeeded… by uniting the Inner Sphere against them. “Mercenary units hired by the FedCom hit two sites, another was attacked by a Capellan Confederation Warrior House… one orbital platform was stormed by Taurian commandos of all people.”
“Taurians are fighting for the Star League? That’s bull.”
Ulric stared at her. “I assume that that was a joke, because I’m serious.”
“Taurians hate the Star League.”
“I’m with you so far, but how do the Zeerga fit in with that?”
“The Taurians also have a bull on their banner,” Natasha said slowly, as if to a child.
“Oh, yes I had forgotten.” He shook his head. “It’s not severed communication with the worlds facing the Inner Sphere yet, but it’s causing more problems and I believe it’s the prelude to an attempt to take worlds back from us. Clan Ghost Bear has reported attacks on their worlds and for all that the Smoke Jaguars are staying quiet about it, they have also been hit. We are probably next.”
Natasha tapped her fingers against the second bottle of beer. “How about the other Clans?”
“The Watch isn’t sure about the Sharks, but they have other problems - the Hells Horses and the Ice Hellions are launching trials of possession for their coreward occupation zone.”
“Whoever loses, we win?”
“On balance,” the younger (but senior) khan observed, “I would prefer the Sharks win since the other two would likely push for invading further. But I do not care enough to intercede, even if it were not for our own problems. As for the other flank, as far as I can tell the Jade Falcons have not been attacked and the Nova Cats are being very quiet about it if they are. The Steel Vipers are so far away that we can’t tell.”
“No rumors on Strana Mechty?” Natasha cracked the lid on the beer bottle, to Ulric’s horror. However, she had timed it well and the froth barely began to spill out of the neck before she took a gulp from the bottle.
“If so, we have no way to find out,” he admitted. “Our HPG links back to the homeworlds have been cut. The last reports from Sigma Galaxy,” the garrison force for the former pirate realms just beyond the edge of the Inner Sphere, “were shortly before you set out from Rasalhague. Since then there has been no response from their HPGs.”
She scowled. “It could be a deep strike by the Inner Sphere. There are ComStar enclaves they could stage from. But there’s a more likely candidate.”
“The Zeerga,” Ulric agreed. “I am beginning to wish I sabotaged their dropships when we sent them back to the homeworlds. The Clan Council would have crucified me for it back then, but the Clan as a whole would be better off.”
“Can’t change the past,” Natasha said pragmatically. “So assuming that it is them…?”
“It is. They attacked Star’s End three days ago, and the Full Moon was unloading workers for the yards. Fortunately the Star Admiral knew his duty and jumped out without waiting to see how the fighting turned out, then sent an HPG to the nearest worlds.”
“Not a good start,” she said thoughtfully. “Sigma could have fought to the last or they could have flipped sides. Probably something in the middle, but that still means that the Zeerga could add a couple more Clusters of equipment to their roster. I assume they can find warriors for those cockpits - at least some of Sigma will flip sides and they seized cadets from other clans who would have passed their trials by now.”
“Being taken as isorla is not precisely ‘flipping sides’,” Ulric reminded her.
“Either way, that’s the real threat. Rasalhague is our best bet for a base in the area now,” Natasha decided. “Phelan’s got the place more or less under control and the Smoke Jaguars aren’t likely to try and take it back with their frontline forces under attack. But Beta Galaxy won’t be enough on its own to deal with the Zeerga.”
Ulric nodded in agreement. “I am mobilizing Alpha and Epsilon Galaxies to rendezvous at Rasalhague,” he confirmed and then raised his own half-empty bottle before she could speak up. “I will take command of the force personally. I need you to take charge of our remaining forces facing the Inner Sphere. We cannot command them from Tamar with the HPGs under attack.”
“Beta Galaxy is my command,” she protested, rising to her feet.
“You are Khan first, Galaxy Commander second,” Ulric told her, remaining seated rather than rise to the provocation. “Gamma and Delta Galaxies were the hardest hit by the Zeerga’s formation, they are barely up to strength and they will have to be the backbone of defending the occupation zone.”
Natasha shook her head. “I can kick the Zeerga’s asses while you do that.”
“Perhaps,” he allowed. “But I think Radick and Ward would not stand and fight against you - if you are in the coreward worlds then they’ll try to bypass you to get at Tamar… and at me.”
That gave her pause. “Are you sure about that or is it guilt talking?”
“You know the two of them almost as well as I do, Natasha. Their anger drives them and I am the one who ordered their exile. If I go corewards to meet them then they will be eager for a confrontation, which means that for the most part they will be trying to engage me rather than driving deeper. That preserves our logistics and communications - which is all that we may have until we can contact the homeworlds again.”
“And if I bring Delta and Gamma back to reinforce you? We can afford to lose worlds to the Inner Sphere.”
“We could have,” Ulric allowed. “But someone pushed for us to settle enclaves of our own people alongside Rasalhaguans. For all I know, our enclaves in the homeworlds are being overrun right now - all that remains of Clan Wolf may be here in the occupation zones. We cannot afford to lose those skilled workers. If there is an offensive, we may lose worlds but you must evacuate the civilians.”
“I am not the best of strategists,” Natasha warned him. “I can kick their asses on the battlefield, but the Inner Sphere has leaders who can think rings around me.”
“I am painfully aware of that.” There was a flash of annoyance in his saKhan’s eyes when he did not dispute her self-depreciation. “Erik will be there, and I am sending Katya as well. I know that you can take advice. Most importantly, the Inner Sphere knows of your legend. If I command there, I am just another Khan of the Clans - perhaps a more successful one than most. But if the Black Widow is there? You have been their benchmark for generations. Even now, years after you rejoined us, every young cadet in their academies dreams of being the ‘next Natasha Kerensky’.”
“I’m not a sibkid, Ulric. You can’t win me over with flattery.”
The khan sat back in his chair and looked at her. “You think you are no longer up to the challenge, quineg?”
For a moment he saw fury coil behind Natasha’s eyes and then she laughed. “Damn you, Ulric. I know that you are playing me.”
He said nothing.
“When I went to Rasalhague, I thought… I always planned to die fighting the Smoke Jaguars, with ‘Rilla admittedly.” Natasha shook her head. “We both know how that worked out.”
“I miss her too.”
“Alright, Khan Ulric Kerensky.” Natasha Kerensky met his gaze. “I will take this mission. But I will fight it my way, with no attempts at managing me.”
“Natasha, you took a handful of misfits and forged the Black Widow Company. Then you took the shattered survivors of the Fourth Succession War and built the Black Widow Battalion, the teeth of the Wolf Dragoons.” Ulric lifted his almost empty bottle and drained it. “Now you have five galaxies of our warriors, from the best to the worst. Impress me.”
Proximity Jump Point, Huntress
Kerensky Cluster, Clan Homeworlds
16 March 3058
Tyra felt the disconcerting buzz of the jump fade and a moment later the heavy mechanical systems of the hangar door began to grind open. There were more sophisticated ways to handle what amounted to several hatches laid over each other but most of them risked failure under the electromagnetic effects of a Kearny-Fuchida drive. That wasn't acceptable when you were trying to make a combat jump, so the old ways were still used.
The outermost door was the simplest, a single heavy panel, and thus the slowest. Both the other redundant coverage that provided armor over the hangar's entrance were wide open before the outer door was fully recessed... and Tyra's Cor-Star was ready to go.
Scant heartbeats after the door locked open and the catapult hurled the fighter free of its home, driving Tyra herself deep into the acceleration couch of her cockpit. Shuttles might drift out of their hangars in a leisurely fashion, but aerospace fighters needed to out and free of the ship fast enough that they could use their fusion thrusters fast. Getting caught crawling away from a dropship - or in this case the mountainous white hull of CSS Boise - could be deadly, while firing up the thrusters inside of the hangar...
Well, if you didn't kill yourself then the owner of the ship would probably do it for you. Fuson thrusters were nothing to play around with.
This had been a good launch. Tyra saw the radar return of the Boise recede behind her but even after reaching a safe distance she still spun the Cor-Star on maneuvering thrusters before igniting the main engines. There were other fighters behind her, and even if they didn't run into her exhaust, putting it right in their eyes could lead to lethal mistakes.
IFF beacons began to spring to life as electronic interference cleared up, It would take a while before they were reliable though and Tyra focused on her sensors instead. Destroyer after destroyer was jumping in - the proximity point was large enough for the whole fleet but jumping all of them in at once would still be stupidly risky.
Another destroyer appeared in a blazing bubble of light, bringing the total up to five. One more and the entire warship squadron would be present. Boise and Anchorage were already transmitting, ordering their division mates and the squadrons of the Flying Drakons to spread out and cover the space around the proximity point.
Another destroyer erupted into the Huntress star system, which was everyone. Only one destroyer was out of position, which would probably get the commander a roasting by Beresick but didn’t really matter. “Valkyrie squadron,” Tyra ordered, “Form on me and…”
The brilliant light storm of another K-F drive arriving erupted and Tyra’s mental headcount stuttered. There were only six destroyers in the fourth, but now there were seven! “Hostile warship!” she snarled. “I repeat, hostile warship.”
The third division lead was bringing up her IFF, identifying herself as CSS San Francisco. Electronics still weren’t enough so Tyra whipped her Cor-Star around, using maximum magnification on visual to verify the four destroyers yet to identify themselves.
“Sighting, X-43, Y-170!” came a cry. “Essex-class destroyer!”
Tyra brought her fighter’s nose to bear in the designated direction. Ahead of her, the destroyer’s shape sprang into life - a gray whale of space. She could only see the edge of the Clan banner marked on the hull but she knew what it was. What other Clan would have a warship in the Huntress system? It had to be a Smoke Jaguar.
Then the ship rolled as it began to maneuver to fight - outnumbered six to one, the destroyer had no choice but surrender would probably not even cross its commander’s mind. Then Tyra saw the patchwork repairs on the hull and her mind went back to the last time she’d seen a Smoke Jaguar warship from the outside.
“Valkyrie Lead to all Drakons!” Her voice was a shriek. “That’s the Saber Cat!”
She throttled up without waiting for orders. Without issuing orders. Were any orders needed when the killer of Reykjavik was in front of them?
Aerospace slashed across space towards the enemy warship. She had likely been on standby and her hangar bays were opening but no fighters emerged. Likely the pilots were still scrambling into flight suits.
Beresick tried to command them but no one in the six squadrons was listening. “Watch for fighters,” Tyra warned over the voice of the ComStar officer. “If you’re carrying a missile, you’re on attack, if you’re not then cover us.”
Her Cor-Star was one of the fortunate ones that was loaded for Jaguar. Kungsarme doctrine had changed since the losses they’d taken in the early 3050s. The theory was that the fighters that had gone after the Saber Cat over Rasalhague had been too slow, that faster fighters could have got through with fewer losses and more missiles on target. The interceptors were too small to carry nuclear-tipped missiles. Heavy attack birds didn’t have the thrust-to-weight demanded. But a fast mid-sized fighter like Tyra’s Cor-Star was ideal.
The gun crews aboard the Sabre Cat were faster to react than their pilots. Massive guns opened up, raking space around the destroyer. Tyra wasn’t sure if the salvos were aimed at the ComStar destroyers or the inbound fighters - all were in the same direction, although the friendly destroyers were spreading out so that they could try to open fire without shooting through the Flying Drakons.
“Duck and weave!” Tyra ordered her squadron. The shots from the destroyer’s main guns were unlikely to score hits unless the fighters were careless - but right now, she was forced to admit that the Kungsarme pilots may not be thinking all that clearly. “Watch out for escort dropships!” The Saber Cat had lacked its own anti-fighter armament, relying on its fighters and a handful of Titan dropships. But she saw no such escorts now.
“None visible!” called Kapten Pedersen, whose squadron of interceptors were in the lead.
There was an explosion as one of the Flying Drakons didn’t dodge fast enough, intersecting with one of the naval lasers being fired at them. The beam was enough all on its own to destroy the Shilone. Tyra felt a shiver go through her - that fighter had been little different from the one she had flown before. But that was the only casualty and then they crossed the theoretical line that was the maximum effective range of their external payloads.
“All officers,” shouted Overste-Lojtnant Genna Lindstrom. The Flying Drakons’ commander’s voice was shrill. “We may need a second strike!”
Tyra’s thumb hovered over the trigger for her one missile for a long moment… and then, with herculean effort, she forced it aside and fired her lasers instead. The two extended range weapons slashed at the heavy plating of the destroyer, without visible effect.
Nine missiles broke free of their parent aerospace fighters, accelerating towards the Saber Cat. “Break!” Tyra ordered her squadron and yanked on the control stuck, feeling momentum drag her towards the side of the cockpit as the Cor-Star angled away from the destroyer and then began to arc around, fighting against the force it had already built up, forces that would have sent the fighter streaking past Saber Cat and off into the depths of the star system.
Silent flashes of light marked the detonations of the warheads. Outmassed a hundred thousand times by their target, they nonetheless struck the ship like hammer blows.
What emerged from the hellstorm was barely recognisable as a warship. Grey paint had been stripped away, deep crevices driven into the hull where fires blazed, fed by what remained of its atmosphere, consuming flammable materials (which might include the crew). An expanding cloud of debris surrounded the ship - hull plating, structural beams, weapons and hundreds of thousands of unrecognizable small components and fragments torn free by the detonations.
For a moment Saber Cat seemed dead, and then - unbelievably! - one of the engine pods lit back up. One of the massive turrets spat fire and Tyra’s radar spotted massive shells blasting past the Drakons towards one of the ComStar destroyers.
“What does it take!” a voice demanded in horror.
“We’re going in again.” Lindstrom was less shrill now. “Viking squadron, get in close and mark the intact sections. Squadrons form up and go in one at a time - we don’t want to shoot our bolt this time.”
Tyra looked at her squadron’s positions. They were all coming around on her, and their relatively powerful fighters were cutting a tighter turn than most of the others. She looked back at the Saber Cat. The patchwork armor was visible again - the crew must have rolled the ship to shield the damaged section of hull from the nukes. “Overste, Valkyrie squadron has its target.”
“We didn’t mark anything yet!” protested Pedersen.
“I see where we hit it over Rasalhague,” she retorted. “They haven’t finished their repairs.”
To her credit, the Flying Drakons’ commander didn’t hesitate. “Valkyrie squadron is go. Everyone else, let them take their run. If they miss, you’ll have your shots.”
“Valkyrie Three and Five, you have your nukes?” she asked the two flight leads as the six Cor-Stars came out of their turn and dived towards that battered shape of the Saber Cat.
“Negative,” Cowley admitted, sounding embarrassed.
“Got mine,” reported Steffers.
So two missiles left rather than three. Tyra could have sworn at Cowley for breaking orders and firing, but there were only fourteen nukes issued for the mission so she’d already known two officers had disobeyed the order. She might have been the only Valkyrie to have one. “Your lance is point, Valkyrie Five,” she said instead. “The debris out there is a problem, someone has to clear the way - open up on anything between us and that repair work.”
“I see it, lead.” Without the additional mass of their missiles, Cowley and his wingman opened up their throttles and moved ahead. Their lasers flashed out, Tyra’s combat computers marking lines to indicate the beams’ paths even though in reality they would be invisible until they intersected with something. Flashes of light over the target area made it clear that that was happening.
The Saber Cat started to roll slowly, moving the patch out of view - but it was slow going, probably due to damaged thrusters.
(A part of Tyra’s mind suggested that the ship was so little threat now that it could be left to the ComGuards to finish off. That thought was shoved aside almost immediately.)
“Losing sight of the target,” Steffers warned.
“We’re going to overshoot and fire on our exit vector,” Tyra ordered. “Do a one-eighty on my mark.”
The blackened wreck grew larger and larger, Valkyrie Five and Six flying past it already. Tyra waited until the balance of Valkyrie squadron were almost on top of it before she gave the order. “Three two one mark!”
Cutting her main fusion thruster, she dropped her acceleration to nothing and maneuvering thrusters fired, spinning the Cor-Star on its center of mass. Further from the destroyer, it might have used the moment in which the fighters could not evade to fire accurately with one of its remaining weapons. Ironically, the closer she was, the safer Tyra was for this.
A second later and the four Valkyrie squadron fighters were past the Sabre Cat, flying backwards. Tyra could see the mass of plating covering damaged structural beams and local penetrations from the nuke that had hit the ship all those years away. She centered her crosshairs on it and brought her thumb down on the trigger.
“Break, break,” she ordered and the squadron scattered, turning and firing up their thrusters to get clear.
Even as Tyra did so, she kept one eye on the camera that looked aft. She saw both missiles strike the partially repaired hull and for a moment nothing seemed to happen.
Then Saber Cat tore in two as for a brief moment two suns erupted inside the center of the hull.
“Good kill! Good kill!” the Overste-Lojtnant cried out.
“Good kill indeed,” Alain Beresick cut into the channel. “Now, if the Drakons would please return to providing my ships with cover, I believe it’s time to call in the transports.” He sounded only mildly reproving, although Tyra suspected that Lindstrom would be getting her ass chewed by the command team of the task force as soon as they were back together.
Somehow, she had trouble caring.
-
Mako Mountain Range, Vinton
Kerensky Cluster, Clan Homeworlds
19 March 3058
Sarah Weaver’s Iron Cheetah shrugged off hits from the Thresher’s full firepower. The Diamond Shark ‘mech was towards the bottom end of the heavy weight scale while her new ‘mech was at the apex of assault omnimechs, making it a mismatch - but the Thresher had chosen to engage her so that was not her fault.
Dropping her crosshairs over the Thresher’s chest she dropped a PPC out of the firing circuit to control her heat and let the smaller ‘mech have it with everything else.
The heavy ‘mech was battered backwards by the impact of her Gauss Rifle and the other PPC. Then her pulse lasers cut away even more of the armor and the LRMs spread explosions across the entire front of the Thresher.
To his credit, the Diamond Shark managed to stay upright, twisting his ‘mech to cover the armor breaches with his left shoulder, but that made it hard for him to fire back at Sarah.
A pair of medium lasers scraped away some more of her own armor before Sarah sidestepped the Iron Cheetah, moving faster than the other mechwarrior expected, and introduced the gaping holes to her PPCs and missiles. A surge of heat went through her cockpit but to her frustration, the Thresher toppled backwards as particle bolts pulverized its interiors and almost her entire flight of LRMs slammed into the cockpit face.
The warrior had possessed daring, she would have taken him as a bondsman. Unfortunately, that was no longer an option.
Looking around, the force that had contested her advance was gone. There were only so many routes through the Mako Mountains, which was why they had become the border between her Clan’s enclaves and those captured by the Diamond Sharks: the passes had broken the momentum of Ian Hawker’s advance.
“Push through to the end of the pass,” she ordered the Cluster she was fighting with. “Then the rest of the galaxy will move through for their own chance at glory.”
The ‘mech’s comm unit pinged to indicate someone was trying to reach Sarah. She scowled and stepped the Iron Cheetah off the road, allowing the cluster to move past her. The Star Colonel should be able to manage the rest of this - if not, it was better to find out now.
“What is it?” she demanded, accepting the call.
“My apologies, my Khan.” Star Commodore Erica Canto seemed to be sweating nervously. There was a reason she was assigned to the Osis’ Pride rather than a more offensive warship - she was too cautious by nature. “The news is important - and dire.”
“Spit it out then!”
Canto lowered her head submissively. “Huntress has been invaded.”
A chill went through Sarah. She had brought the bulk of the true warriors with her for the attack on Vinton, leaving solahma and training units behind. “Who dares?” Most of the Clans were too focused on the Inner Sphere for them to have forces available for such a strike. “The Coyotes? The Blood Spirits.”
“It is spheroids, my khan.”
“Impossible! They have no idea where the homeworlds even are!”
“The facts would seem otherwise.” Then Canto raised her head and met Sarah’s gaze. “The report says there was no batchall, only a claim that they acted on behalf of the Star League.”
The sheer audacity took Sarah’s breath away. The Clans were the Star League! All that was true and worthy that remained. The Inner Sphere was the pit of corruption left by it’s fall, a place that had to be cleansed by fire and steel in order to rebuild. And they claimed… They DARED to defile the honor of the Star League?!
Hands trembling with rage, she turned to the Star Commodore’s screen. “Tell me everything.” Perhaps this was a deceit of some kind - dark caste, perhaps? That would be shameful but better by far than the Spheroids bringing their vileness to the sacred refuge of the homeworlds.
“They used the proximity form between Huntress and its star,” Canto reported. “The picket there was destroyed - the glare of the star made that less than obvious. It was several hours before the lack of contact was noted.”
Sarah hissed at the laxness. “They did not think to report?”
“It was the Saber Cat,” Canto reminded her. “No one cares what that ship does, and their crew was badly understrength.”
That ship, again? Still, this would presumably be the last she heard of it. “And then.”
“The Space Defense System engaged.” The Star Commodore shrugged. “Safcon was not requested, and it would be unthinkable to extend it in any case.”
“Agreed, but your initial words say that it was not enough.”
Canto’s face was grim. “Our warships are in the Inner Sphere or patrolling our supply lines. With the loss of the Saber Cat, Osis’ Pride is the last we have in the homeworlds. The fixed defenses are intended to buy time for a response, not to fight unassisted against a naval star. Six warships were enough to clear the orbital platforms and engage the surface batteries with their weapons. The report says some damage was done in response but not enough to keep them from clearing the bases covering half of Jaguar Prime.”
“Orbital fire…” They had used that on Huntress. Sarah could not help but remember the scar left on Reykjavik. Yes, the Inner Sphere would not hesitate to do to the Jaguars what had been done to them. “How bad is it?”
“It seems they targeted bases that were away from the cities,” the younger woman said with some relief. “Losses are mostly material, but it freed them to land between Myer and Pahn.”
Large, industrial cities… and in striking range of Lootera and the primary genetic repository under Mount Szabo. Blood drained from Sarah’s face. “And their strength?”
“Besides five or six warships?” Canto shrugged helplessly. “The loss of satellites limits the information. But the Inner Sphere’s warships strength is limited, if they have sent so many then this must be a major operation so…”
“I understand.” A full invasion force, aimed at crippling Clan Smoke Jaguar.
Sarah looked down the pass. Towards the almost defenseless enclaves that had been within her grasp just a few minutes ago. She could still take them… but if Huntress was lost then full control of Vinton would… well, it would be better than nothing but small consolation. The capital held fully half of the Clan’s industry and workers, Vinton was more than an outpost, but there was no way that reclaiming the lost half of the world would make up for losing Huntress.
“Prepare your ship for return to Huntress,” the khan ordered tonelessly. “Omega Galaxy will be needed there.”
“We are several jumps away from Huntress.”
“I am fully aware of that, Star Commodore! You understand your orders, quiaff?”
“Aff,” a chastened Canto responded, then cut the channel.
Sarah considered how to break the news to her warriors. Their spirits were high, but they had not been tempered yet. Sudden bad news could devastate their morale…
Finally, she reached for the comm unit. Better to contact the drop-port behind them, start arrangements for their departure. Sarah could see her reflection in the glass of her cockpit and if she announced anything now, it would not go well. She needed to get back on balance first.
“Put me through to -” But there was nothing but static.
The khan frowned, checked the frequency. This was the correct one, and if her equipment was at fault, how could she have spoken to Canto? She changed to an alternative wavelength. “This is Khan Sarah Weaver -” No reply, just more static.
If this was the Inner Sphere, she would suspect jamming… but would anyone in the Clans use such a tactic? Perhaps. But then again, the drop port was Smoke Jaguar territory. Who would be between them to use jammers. No, this must be some freak weather condition.
With a stab of her finger she opened the channel to Osis’ Pryde. It only took a moment to issue a new command via the comms officer: Canto was to also alert the drop port of Sarah’s imminent return and of the need to ready dropships to carry Omega Galaxy up to orbit.
After a moment to calm herself further, Sarah opened a channel to the last of Omega Galaxy’s clusters. “Star Colonel Weaver!”
“My khan,” the young warrior yelped. “We are making best speed through the pass.”
Which probably meant that his force had been delayed. “Never mind that. We are moving our logistical train back to the dropships rather than bringing them through the mountains. Escort them back to the drop port.” In the narrow pass, she would need halt and then reverse course unit by unit or they would jam up.
“We can make better speed, we will not slow you down!” the Star Colonel offered hastily.
“This has nothing to do with that,” Sarah hissed. “Do as I say! Or must I come back and replace you?” The warrior might be of her bloodhouse, but it was clear he had far to go before he was a credit to it.
“Neg, I will obey!”
Sarah cut the channel and estimated that it would take at least five minutes for word to spread through the cluster of the new orders. And then the many trucks carrying support for the galaxy would have to reverse as well, she could not expect the laborers driving them to respond sharply…
She regretted now not using the dropships from the start, but if problems had arisen in the mountains there were few landing sites for them and those would be predictable. The Diamond Sharks would love to take advantage of her exposing dropships to attack like that.
Another ping from her console - it was Canto again. “This had better be good news,” Sarah snapped. “Quiaff?”
“Neg,” Canto was slumping slightly in her seat. “Diamond Shark dropships are executing a sub-orbital hop behind you. Predicted pathing takes them to landing sites around the main drop port.”
“How long do we have! Why did you not see them before!”
“They crossed the horizon as we spoke earlier, my khan. They will land within minutes.” A pause. “And they number more than your own transports.”
That many? Where had they come from? Who was aboard them?
Canto looked aside and then shook her head. “We are receiving a batchall!”
“Relay it!”
The image of Canto was wiped away and a new face replaced it - one that Weaver knew all too well from Grand Council meetings. Bikendi Vewas was one of the few Khans among the invading Clans who, like her, remained in the homeworlds.
“Rejoice, warriors of Clan Smoke Jaguar!” the Diamond Shark saKhan called out. “You have come here fearing that you would face only a garrison that could offer you little glory, yet we offer you the opportunity to carve your deeds into the Remembrance. Since you have brought your newest galaxy to lay claim to one half of Vinton, it is only fair for us to bring our best to lay claim to the other! Beta Galaxy offers challenge for possession of all these enclaves! Let the greater predator devour the weaker!”
“Stravag!” Sarah screamed. “Beta Galaxy is in the Inner Sphere! We have reports of them! The lying rat is offering a false batchall!”
Canto reappeared on the screen. “Our sensors have identified the dropships as those assigned to the Diamond Shark’s Beta Galaxy,” she warned. “Is it possible the reports are wrong?”
The khan was breathing heavily.
She had no choice but to withdraw. Huntress needed her forces. But that would not just end her campaign, it left her unable to defend the rest of Vinton.
For a moment she considered ordering Canto to swat the dropships from the sky with the guns of the Osis’ Pride - but that would force the troop cruiser into a low orbit where she would be vulnerable to attack by the Diamond Sharks’ aerospace fighters - by standard Diamond Shark doctrine, Beta Galaxy would have a hundred and twenty omnifighters to add to those of the garrison. And losing Osis’ Pride would mean there was nothing available to ferry her forces home, or to face the Spheroid warships in battle.
“Get our dropships out of there,” Sarah said dully. Then she slammed her fist onto the comm console as she realized she’d just ordered her logistics trucks to turn and drive in the direction of the Diamond Sharks. “Direct them to the far side of the pass, we will need to load there.”
This defeat, this humiliation…
With a roar, Sarah jerked her crosshairs up into the sky and unleashed every iota of the Iron Cheetah’s firepower out of pure rage. Sound and fury… without effect.
-
And everyone’s Xanatos gambits pile up at once.
-
It's good to see Tyra getting a measure of revenge and Sarah getting dunked on by the events, nudging here ever closer to hate nirvana.
-
Downing Saber Cat was indeed good to see!
-
In terms of the best of the Star League the Smoke Jaguars do seem to be following in the footsteps of Amos Forlough.
-
Now, in the clear light of the post-combat situation report I grant that it was perhaps not the most tactically efficient course to expend a once-per-mission cooldown and incur sufficient excess heat to melt my own reactor core twice over in order to inflict 45 points of damage upon a target with 80 HP, but I strongly feel any assessment of the soundness of my decision should take into account that ****** had it coming.
-Sarah Weaver.
-
Opalescent Reflections
Full House
Chapter 11
Castle Arianrod, Coventry
Donegal March, Federated Commonwealth
9 April 3058
Victor looked up from his desk as someone knocked on the door. The operations along the frontlines were in full swing but his mother had given a hard no to his taking part in any of the attacks. Peter was off and out of contact for at least another year, so she’d rather have kept both her other sons out of the line of duty. It had taken the combined efforts of Victor and his father to give Arthur his chance, and part of the price for that was that Victor was stuck on Coventry dealing with some of the reams of paperwork being generated.
The face that came through the door was a welcome relief from those duties. “Galen!”
“Victor!” the taller blond declared brightly. “I was afraid I’d find you buried under something.”
“Not far off,” the prince replied, gesturing to his desk.
“I have taught you bad habits,” his friend said regretfully. “And I am paying for that now that I also have a desk job.” Notionally, Galen was still part of the Tenth Lyran Guards but his promotion to Leutnant-General had come with reassignment to the RCT’s staff and he was handling their interactions with the rest of the AFFC’s bureaucracy, a posting that kept him out of harm’s way.
Promotion from Colonel almost always involved such work - Victor had nearly dodged it with his double promotion following the Battle of Coventry, only to be sent to Terra to plan the military responses of the Star League. Now Galen was in the same spot: command above that of a regiment required that one demonstrate competence off the battlefield as well as on it.
“Your desk looks as bad?” Victor asked, pushing his chair back.
“Pretty much.” Galen waved him back to the chair and took the one facing him. “I heard that we had to fight a second front with AFFC command to stay supplied, paid and the like, but it wasn’t until I got this job that I found out that it really is a battle. I keep expecting to find someone face down with a sharpened pen buried in their back.”
“The theory is that it keeps us sharp,” the younger man replied. “I found a hell of a lot of corruption while I was playing hatchetman last year. If your counterparts had been doing their job properly, that wouldn’t have been the case.”
“I would be happy to trade. I have an actual Hatchetman, so I am doubly qualified.”
Victor nodded and glanced at the clock. “I also know that you wouldn’t leave your desk early unless you had more reason than socializing to drop by. I’m always glad to see you, but…”
“Where is that naive young leutnant I took under my wing?” Galen asked with mock regret. “Now you’re suspicious of everyone.” His eyes gave him away though.
“I got a grounding in politics,” Victor replied and hoped his eyes were better guarded. He had found a few gems in the forced networking of the royal court and some of those contacts were on New Avalon. As much as he wanted to believe that Omi was wrong in her assessment of Katherine’s position there, it was clear that she was surrounded by flatterers and did not seem to realize it. He really hoped that she didn’t at any rate.
Galen nodded. “That would do it. Alright, Victor, I have good news and I have bad news. What do you want first?”
“Start with the good. Hopefully the bad will help to inoculate me from any cases of victory disease. There is a lot of that going around.” Some of the career staff officers had gotten so excited by the sheer number of forces present that they were acting as if defeat of the Clans was a foregone conclusion. Victor couldn’t help but wonder how many reverses the LCAF and maybe the AFFS as well had suffered because of that mistake over the years.
The older man nodded. “First reports are in from the Rack and Pain.” Official guidelines were to use the names the worlds had used under the Star League: Dijonne and Port Vail. The next time Victor heard either used except in formal reports would be the first.
“I take it that we won?” The two worlds were the bases the Steel Vipers had used as a staging area to rejoin the invasion - even if they’d set up Inarcs as their center of operations, they were key supply bases and as such they were the main targets for Task Group Sapphire Two: no less than eight ‘mech regiments and almost fifty conventional units that had skirted the Inner Sphere to hit the Steel Vipers from behind.
“Damn right we did. The ComGuards even scored a major win: a Steel Viper convoy turned up over the Rack right next to our invasion force. CSS Manchester crippled the escort and oversaw the capture of the rest of the ships.”
“That’s a stroke of good luck!”
Galen grinned. “It gets better. The convoy was coming from the Clan homeworlds and along with a huge amount of supplies, they had tooling to build LRM guidance systems.”
Victor blinked for a moment, before he realized the full meaning of that. “That could let us crack the minimum arming range problem. Who has control of it?”
“ComStar,” Galen admitted. “But the local officers already gave ours complete access to the documentation. Even if the Primus tries to keep control of the tooling, that’s going to be a huge help.”
“Not as much letting us play with the tooling ourselves, but that may come,” Victor noted. He’d have to make sure that got fast-tracked back to Tharkad and New Avalon. His father would want samples for NAIS and the Primus would probably agree to that - for a price, but one that was affordable. Then he straightened in his chair. “And the bad news? What’s the butcher’s bill?”
His former commander looked away. “The Steel Vipers fought like captured rats. They only had a Galaxy between the two worlds, but they damn near cost us their own number in dead and wounded. Very few of their warriors were taken alive.”
Victor saw that the tension wasn’t gone from his friend’s shoulders. “And?”
“The Vipers managed to force a breakout between the Eighth Lyran Regulars and the Third Federated Commonwealth,” Galen told him. “The artillery park was overrun and they almost made it to our dropships and the forward operating base. Third Battalion of the Fourth Deneb Light Cavalry got thrown in to buy time for reinforcements.”
The prince came half-way out of his chair. That was his little brother’s posting. “Galen!”
“He’s alive.” The older man didn’t meet his eyes. “But there isn’t a ‘mech left of that battalion - most of them were half the weight of the Clanners. Arthur and his lance anchored the entire defense. He’s up for a silver sunburst… and a medevac back to Tharkad.”
“Tell me!” he demanded, forcing himself back into his seat.
“His right arm is gone from above the elbow,” Galen told him. “The full medical report is on the way - he lost a lot of blood and there’s some infection, but he’s not in danger.”
Except of not being allowed off Tharkad again, Victor thought. Arthur and Yvonne were the babies of the family - far enough down the succession that they didn’t have the same obligations. Having harm come to one of them would hit his mother hard… and he wasn’t sure how his father would take it either. “How far has news gone?”
“It’s been classified,” Galen told him. “Messages are going direct to New Avalon and Tharkad under the most secure codes. Chances are that your mother knows by now.”
“And you’re the one telling me because…”
“Your chain of command is on Tharkad,” the Leutnant-General pointed out. “I got a head’s up from the Tenth the Rack once word got around. There’s not been time for an official message to get back from Tharkad.”
Victor took a deep breath and closed his eyes for a moment, processing the thought of his lively, laughing little brother missing an arm. He’d been so eager to make his name, to show he was as good as Victor or Peter.
“Nothing I can do,” he said at last. “I assume he won’t be coming here, I’ll have to see if I can have a message sent to him in transit.”
Galen shrugged. “Most of the seriously wounded are being sent to Donegal or Tharkad once they’re fit for travel. My contacts didn’t know when that would be for your brother, but I’d imagine they’ll expedite that.”
Victor nodded grimly. “How are the Tenth?”
“Pretty good - no one got out without losses, but they’re one of the least damaged units,” Galen told him. “That means they’ll be with the next wave of attacks.”
Victor had pored over the star charts enough that he could call them to mind without needing to refer to a physical copy. The Steel Viper occupation zone formed a rough V with Pain and the Rack at one end, the Federated Commonwealth border at the other end. Inarcs was near the point of the V and the plan was to advance down the zone from both directions, ignoring the other Clans as much as possible.
Qanatir, Ma’anshan and Kwangjong-ni had been retaken at heavy cost - all three worlds had been right on the border with two frontline galaxies spread between them. But very few of those warriors had escaped. Now the main advance towards Inarcs was underway, a division of the ComGuards backing up the push to relieve or avenge their garrisons behind the lines.
“The sooner the better,” he said out loud. “The Vipers may be crumbling, but we don’t know yet how the Nova Cats are going to react.”
No one had foreseen that the Nova Cats would almost ignore the interdiction. They’d been rounding up ComStar personnel where they could, but for the most part they were then simply shipping them over into the fortified enclaves and politely - well, politely by Clan standards - refusing to let them back out. There were contingencies for the Cats involving themselves in the fighting - their territory abutted that of the Steel Vipers and they had to know that they might be next… but right now no one knew what they were planning.
No small part of the paperwork on Victor’s desk was speculation about that.
“And the Jade Falcons?” asked Galen.
“Twelve raids into the Commonwealth in the last month… and most of the ComStar enclaves behind their lines are gone,” Victor said gravely. “It’s not a question of if they attack, just when and where.”
Camora, Twycross
Clan Jade Falcon Occupation Zone
10 April 3058
It had taken Aidan half a day to find Elias Crichell after returning to Twycross. The search did nothing for his temper.
When he finally found the other Khan, it was not far from the command center where he had looked first, which was enough to convince him that Crichell had known of his presence and deliberately avoided him. The aged Khan was examining footage of a battle - not one involving the Clans. A drop port marked by green Capellan banners was marred by clouds of green smoke that streamed from hundreds of sources. An Overlord-class dropship was the only one present and it fired missiles out across the port as ‘mechs streamed out of its hatches to do battle with the defenders.
“Aidan!” The senior khan paused the replay as Aidan moved deliberately into his field of view. “You have done well dealing with ComStar!”
“Most of the HPGs are destroyed,” he acknowledged. “Even those we took somewhat intact will need repairs.”
“The Primus and her fanatics have been preparing for years to deal with such situations,” Crichell said dismissively. “Capturing any of the HPGs without their total destruction is very good. We have the knowledge and tools to rebuild them.”
Three months of sweeping across the rear-areas of the occupied worlds came back to Aidan. World after world, green omnimechs battling white-painted SLDF machines. “It needed to be done,” he said simply. “Our rear has been secured, now we can move against the real enemy.”
Crichell smiled thinly and gestured towards another seat on the couch he occupied. “Which of our enemies do you mean? There are a number, all as real as the next. I would have counted ComStar among them.”
“The Steel Vipers provoked them,” Aidan answered. “It was unnecessary.”
“This was always going to happen.” The old Khan shook his head. “Not now, I admit - it was premature. But we could never tolerate ComStar having a hand on our communications.” He paused. “And in some respects, the timing was good.”
Aidan frowned. “Would you say that if the Federated Commonwealth was taking worlds back from us rather than the Steel Vipers? Because we are likely their next target.”
“There we were fortunate. Combined with the interdiction…” A shake of the white-haired head. “Yes, it would have been a problem, but we are better placed now and there is no such attack imminent. Our raids show that forces along our border are focused on the defense.”
“You make it seem as if this is good for us.”
“Is it not?” Crichell raised his eyebrows. “You speak of our real enemies? The Vipers are no friends of ours and I think it is unlikely that their occupation zone will survive - that leaves them weakened and humiliated. It is not beyond possibility that they will face absorption unless they turn this situation around. And even if they fail, Clan Nova Cat is covering our flank and will do so far more effectively than Zalman and his Clan.”
“They still provided a considerable force that the Federated Commonwealth had to respect. If that is gone then almost a quarter of the forces facing the Steiner-Davions are unavailable to us.”
“I refuse to consider that a serious loss,” Aidan’s senior dismissed his argument. “And the Federated Commonwealth will be weakened as well - they have sent the preponderance of their forces to the furthest extreme, with little support from the rest of this so-called Star League.”
“If we do not strike now, we may have to fight them alone,” Aidan warned. “I know the Steel Vipers will refuse direct aid, but we could strike towards Terra - retake Arcturus and drive into Skye, taking some of the pressure off them. The Nova Cats would have to join us…”
“Clan Wolf would not. I count it our great good fortune that they are thoroughly distracted by their errant kin.”
Aidan raised his voice. “We are ceding the initiative!”
Crichell gave him a reproving look. “We are picking our moment. Your plan is not without merit but it is too soon and we must take Tharkad first. The Lyran capital is well placed - without it and the surrounding worlds, the logistics across their Commonwealth are poor. Taking it will seriously impair the ability of the units deployed against the Steel Vipers to rebuild their strength.”
“We are not just fighting the Federated Commonwealth. They have reinforcements from across the Inner Sphere.”
“Token forces,” the old man pronounced. “They hate and fear House Steiner-Davion’s strength. If this alliance of theirs endures, they will end up dominated by the Federated Commonwealth, so the Mariks and Liaos will compromise if they must. Take Tharkad and they will find reason to look to their own defenses, while we will have fresh Clans committing their forces.” Then he smiled smugly. “The ComGuards struck at the homeworlds. No one can deny that there is need to strike against them now - the Star Adders always claimed that the Crusade would require our full might and the Blood Spirits prate of unity, so they can take the lead.”
“The homeworlds?!” Aidan exclaimed, pushing himself upright. “Where? With what forces?!”
“Huntress,” Crichell told him, gesturing dismissively even though Ironhold and Strana Mechty were within a single jump of the named world. “It is a raid, Aidan. Our defenses are not as weak as those of the Smoke Jaguars.”
“Even so…” He paused, shook his head. “No, I see. Fear of more than that will motivate the homeworld Clans to join the invasion.”
“They have always wanted to, and now there is an excuse that the Wardens cannot reject… particularly with the Wolves humbled.” The smile on the old Khan’s face was disturbing. “Ulric Kerensky created the Zeerga and while they may be attacking him now, that has still cost him many allies. Even if he objects, he will face the same odds or worse than those he had to fight against the vote to invade.”
It occurred to Aidan that Ulric Kerensky had come surprisingly close to winning that Trial of Refusal, but he doubted Crichell took that threat seriously. “And the other Clans?” he asked, buying time to think.
“Of the invaders? The Smoke Jaguars are humiliated already and the Combine is striking at both them and the Ghost Bears. That will sway the Bears and the Jaguars have always supported widening the invasion, although they may be forced to provide access via their corridor.” Crichell paused and Aidan was not surprised. “It is not clear if the Diamond Sharks are under attack by the Inner Sphere. The Hells Horses and Ice Hellions are giving Sennet problems, but I doubt the Smoke Jaguars can continue to harass them with things as they stand. Most likely they will struggle to hold onto their current territory, but if they do…” The old man shrugged, confidence returning to him. “If they join us, so much the better. If not, they continue to pose a threat to the Combine and beyond them to the Federated Suns, which serves our purposes almost as well.”
“Better in some ways.” The words slipped out of Aidan’s mouth and he regretted giving away the insight.
Crichell gave him an appraising look. “Aff,” he said simply.
“Bringing more Clans in means more contenders for the crown of Terra,” Aidan warned.
“They have yet to face the Inner Sphere. Let them batter their way through Skye and Dieron while we will fly above them to the prize,” Crichell said sagely. “ComStar will guard Terra ferociously - and you have ensured that we retain the naval aid of the Snow Ravens. Khan McKenna knows that her Clan cannot take Terra, they lack the ground forces. But given the chance to be our ally and kingmaker…” He smiled thinly. “Thanks to you, Aidan. I will be IlKhan - there is no other now who can claim the title. And once Clan Jade Falcon is emplaced as the ilClan, you will be my obvious successor.”
“One step at a time,” Aidan said cautiously. “The opening to strike at Tharkad may arrive quickly. I should move to the front.”
“Once your troops have resupplied and made good their equipment,” the old Khan assured him. “I would not launch this campaign without you in the lead.”
Right where I can take the blame for any reverse, Aidan thought. Successor indeed?! You do not care for a single thing beyond placing your ass on the ilKhan’s throne!
“I understand your Summoner took serious damage,” Crichell continued. “I suggest that you replace it. One of the new Night Gyrs - a formidable new ‘mech suitable to the new age that is dawning.” It was an order, not a suggestion.
A cumbersome ‘mech to rein me in? “I believe you have also adopted one of the new designs,” he said out loud. “A Turkina in place of your old Warhawk.”
“The Khans should pilot machines of our Clan’s designing, after all,” the older man preened. As if the Summoner was not of Jade Falcon design!
Imperial City, Irurzun
Benjamin Military District, Draconis Combine
1 May 3058
“Is this confirmed?” Minoru asked the man sitting across from him.
Boris Petrov spread his hands slightly in apology. It wasn’t a meeting of the high command and Minoru had decided to enjoy the warm afternoon sunshine with Atsuko. He had to handle some reports, but she had her own and thus they had been sitting in comfortable silence, each working through their own stack of documents (held in place against the wind with stone paperweights) until the Warlord had politely asked for some of Minoru’s precious time.
“The reports are from reliable officers,” Petrov told him. “Unfortunately, they will also be in the hands of Focht and Hasek-Davion.”
“I assumed as much.”
Minoru had nothing particularly against the next Commanding General of the SLDF, in fact the Duke of New Syrtis had gone out of his way to be supportive of Omi so he could not be considered an enemy. But he would naturally put the interests of the Federated Commonwealth ahead of the Draconis Combine’s. It would be naive to think otherwise.
There was an understanding, though such promises might prove to be faithless, that the third Commanding General would probably be from the Combine. Minoru’s realm covered for a large part of the border with the Clans after all… and it seemed fairly likely that a second round of counter attacks might be expected around 3061. A good time for a DCMS officer to push for a focus against the Diamond Sharks, given that the Federated Commonwealth had had their chance to deal with their own foes. That didn’t help now.
Atsuko had pulled back slightly from the table to let the men talk but she was evidently listening. Minoru wondered if she might ask questions later or simply treat it as none of her business. He thought that not all the questions she asked were those her father had prompted her to. Hoped that they weren’t.
He rubbed his chin. “What do you expect?”
“The Ghost Bears have already proven more expensive to push back,” admitted Petrov. “And we’ve pushed them back to the point that they have reliable HPG communication between their units. I expect that instructions will be given to focus where we are seeing more results.”
“The Smoke Jaguars, in other words.”
The warlord nodded. “They are evidently in some disarray, with poorer communications and supplies. In addition, we have seen nothing of two of their frontline Galaxies - they may be experiencing the same level of distraction as the Diamond Sharks.”
The interdiction cut both ways, Minoru thought. The Clan Occupation Zones had gone black except where enclaves were secure enough that they hadn’t cut off their HPGs entirely. Unfortunately, the decision to focus on the Ghost Bears and Smoke Jaguars meant that there weren’t many of those HPGs. The Ghost Bears held worlds that had long been relatively secure with no scope for ComStar protection to be extended.
While there had been quite a number of ComStar enclaves on Smoke Jaguar worlds, most of them had been overrun - the exceptions were those liberated quickly in the first waves of attacks. The effort had undoubtedly depleted Smoke Jaguar forces and hampered their ability to respond to Operation Ruby. It still left them mostly blind about what was going on more than a single jump past the worlds being fought for.
“We are still fighting for Combine worlds,” Minoru allowed after thinking further. “It is hard for me to argue against that.”
“There is a risk of becoming over-extended and leaving a vulnerable salient between the Bears and the Wolves.”
The coordinator chuckled sardonically. “You know what Hasek-Davion’s counter will be.”
“Well… yes,” Petrov admitted.
“May I ask what it will be?” Atsuko asked quietly.
The Warlord frowned slightly and glanced at her before looking back to Minoru.
“Please,” Minoru invited. “A fresh pair of eyes may see something we have overlooked.”
Petrov thought a moment before responding. “We have no sight yet of a major counter-attack. That being the case, Marshal Hasek-Davion will wish to employ Task Force Emerald offensively - it is his own command. And he will want to do so in a way that benefits his liege lord. Liberating worlds held by Clan Wolf would restore worlds to the Federated Commonwealth and the Free Rasalhague Republic, making it a popular move.”
“Rasalhague has no representation on the Star League Council,” Minoru’s wife mused out loud. “But if their worlds were liberated, might they gain that?”
“Possibly. Or their worlds could become protectorates of the Federated Commonwealth.” Petrov grunted. “The Combine is regrettably not in a position to offer a counter-bid and if we did, they would refuse. Rasalhague fought to be free of the Combine.”
“I was a child at the time,” Atsuko allowed. “May I ask my husband’s goals in this matter?”
“Reclaiming the worlds that rest under the Ghost Bear’s paws,” he told her. “Driving them from the Inner Sphere would deprive the Diamond Sharks of an ally and open a road towards Luthien. A salient there is less risky - the Jaguars and Sharks are unlikely to cooperate.”
Atsuko lowered her eyes and said nothing for a moment. “If the Rasalhague leaders were to accept the Dragon’s protection, could some limit on their liberation be set?” she asked after a moment. “No more worlds than could be defended. My lord’s father fought to grant them their independence, so they may be persuaded that such protection - perhaps on the levels Warlord Sorenson advocates - will be relaxed once they are ready to guard themselves again.”
“We would have to find the troops for that,” Petrov pointed out in a condescending tone. “And it does not help us to fight the Ghost Bears.”
“Ah, I apologize for my poor explanation,” she answered, lowering her head. “Since Marshal Hasek-Davion wishes to recover worlds for his lord and my lord is supporting this, surely the Marshal can reasonably spare forces to assist against the Ghost Bears. As for the troops, would they not primarily need infantry until the current offensive is over?”
“True…” Minoru allowed thoughtfully. “And ComStar will want their enclaves back.” Whose mere presence would contribute to the security of those worlds.
Boris Petrov gave Atsuko a look of his own. “I believe I have new reason to be pleased by Lord Kurita’s marriage. I had not realized that you were so well-versed in diplomacy.”
Atsuko blushed. “I am sure you would have come up with a solution.”
“Perhaps so. But even if we did, we might not come up with one in time,” the Warlord told her. “In diplomacy, like war, a perfect plan too late is of little use.”
The blush didn’t escape Atsuko’s face and she backed off. “Please excuse me while I arrange some snacks for you.”
Both men politely acknowledged the excuse and watched her leave.
“Some of your court would object to her advising you in public,” Petrov counseled Minoru. “Fools, but sometimes influential.”
“I have enough fools advising me,” the Coordinator observed. “My wife is not one of them.”
“Quite.” The Warlord shook his head slightly. “The situation in the Outworlds Alliance is more promising. I imagine that Li Dok To will wish to recover his district’s capital.”
“I will allow it when the time comes,” Minoru confirmed quietly. “The Diamond Sharks are being attacked from the core by their fellow Clans. If we had known in time, it would have been the perfect opportunity for Ruby to be aimed at them.”
“When an opportunity passes, it does little good to dwell on it, Tono. Recovering Galedon and perhaps Alshain… that will still be a good start on redressing our losses.” Petrov rose to his feet. “With your permission, I will contact Marshal Hasek-Davion and General Mansdottir.”
“Individually, I hope.”
“Oh yes, very much so.” The big man beamed happily. “Divide and conquer as they say. My apologies to Lady Kurita that I cannot wait for the snacks, but I think the two of you will manage without me.”
“Go with my blessing,” Minoru told him and watched Petrov walk to the gates. As the warlord exited, he paused and bowed to the returning Atsuko. A deep bow, a degree deeper than would normally be offered to the Coordinator’s wife.
She is making a good impression, Minoru thought. I should be glad of that - no, I am glad of that. And her father is moderating the conservatives…
But Sorenson’s reforms are yielding results, and that threatens established interests. There will be backlash to that. Can I count on Marquis Hideyoshi in that case…?
And if not, can I count on my wife?
-
So Victor will be moved to Tharkad for his own safety and Turkeys will be coming to Tharkad in force, while Minoru is contemplating making changes that would strenghten Combine, but also turn many powerful people, including his father-in-law against him.
It looks like IS still does not know about fighting amongst clans, which is good for Sharks and Wolves.
-
“I will allow it when the time comes,” Minoru confirmed quietly. “The Diamond Sharks are being attacked from the core by their fellow Clans. If we had known in time, it would have been the perfect opportunity for Ruby to be aimed at them.”
Looks like the Combine at least as some information about the attacks. But quite possibly not to the full extend.
And the post-war (counter attack) political landscape is beginning to take form, it seems. Good to know that Omi has an eye on Kathrine and is making her influence felt on Victor. It could backfire, though. Quite possible that if it comes to a confrontation between the siblings, Kathrine might try to frame Victor as being under the Combine's influence to gain support from the Draconis March, among others.
-
Looks like the Combine at least as some information about the attacks. But quite possibly not to the full extend.
Canonically, the Combine captured some black boxes during the War of 3039, and was building their own and using them operationally during Operation Revival. They could easily have personnel with black boxes hidden across the Clan occupation zone who are feeding them at least some amount of intel.
And the post-war (counter attack) political landscape is beginning to take form, it seems. Good to know that Omi has an eye on Kathrine and is making her influence felt on Victor. It could backfire, though. Quite possible that if it comes to a confrontation between the siblings, Kathrine might try to frame Victor as being under the Combine's influence to gain support from the Draconis March, among others.
At least this time, they seem to be catching on to... less than desirable developments on Katherine´s part before she starts murdering people.
-
Omi and Victor, at least. I don't think we've seen Victor share his concerns with his family or friends. Of course, with Hanse still alive and Victor more involved with governance and bureaucracy, there certainly is less opportunity for Katherine to accelerate her journey towards a throne. She's also much more involved on the Davion side of the F-C, so there might be an opportunity for her to exploit any dissent (among the Draconis March especially) about focusing too much on the "Lyran" problem of the Clan front and not taking the golden opportunity of ending the threat of the Combine for good.
It certainly is not a problem now, but I expect someone ten to fifteen years from now lamenting the fact that the AFFC didn't go after the Combine when they were easy pickings. And if it comes to that, Katherine could seem like the patriotic, "Davion" alternative to a Victor that served in the Lyran Guards, spend much of his time in the Lyran half of the realm and holds close relations with the sister of the Coordinator.
Of course, this comes with the big - IF the Clans by then are not seen as an existential threat but just another player in the IS.
-
Atsuko has swayed at least one War Lord... and may be beginning to assert herself. Interesting times all around! :)
-
And the post-war (counter attack) political landscape is beginning to take form, it seems. Good to know that Omi has an eye on Kathrine and is making her influence felt on Victor. It could backfire, though. Quite possible that if it comes to a confrontation between the siblings, Kathrine might try to frame Victor as being under the Combine's influence to gain support from the Draconis March, among others.
I'm not sure if Katherine's behavior will be factor. Her father and mother (i think) are still alive.
-
Opalescent Reflections
Full House
Chapter 12
Over Jaguar Prime, Huntress
Kerensky Cluster, Clan Homeworlds
6 May 3058
Naval battles were a special hell, Sarah Weaver thought as she sat in the cockpit of her Iron Cheetah. The ‘mech was strapped into a cocoon in readiness to be launched from the dropship Righteous Indignation at the proper moment, and this left both omnimech and khan effectively prisoners. Even if she had been on the flight deck of the dropship - or that of the much larger Osis’ Pride - there was little she could have done.
With her ‘mech active and on the battlefield, Sarah was a giant - able to crush whatever foe presented itself. But she had only a theoretical knowledge of voidcraft and how they were employed in battle. She would have been hard-pressed to identify a threat, much less act intelligently to counter it.
The hull of the Overlord-class ship creaked, the sound enough to penetrate the massive insulation around her. A good sign? A bad one? Sarah had no idea.
The only thing she could be sure of was that delivering her - and Omega Galaxy - to the surface as rapidly as possible was critical. The units left behind had lost their command and half their strength in the first clash with the invaders. What remained had been avoided direct conflict - veterans disgraced over the years by Inner Sphere resistance were turning the tactics used against them on the spheroid forces - ambushes, distractions and sabotage to slow progress.
The reports made when Osis’ Pryde erupted into the star system at the proximity point of Huntress and its one moon - Sentinel - made it clear that despite all of this, the invaders were within days of reaching Lootera. And above the capital, within the fortress of Mount Szabo, lay the prime genetic repository. The material and records that were used in every generation of trueborn warriors.
The thought of that in the hands of Spheroids was horrifying. The least nauseating idea was of the site’s destruction - it would be a dreadful blow but recoverable using the similar facilities on Strana Mechty and lesser sites elsewhere. Sarah had nightmares about the Successor Lords using the material to breed subservient warriors for their own ambitions - the Clans’ children in blood but corrupted and enslaved to the dynasties that had broken the Star League.
She had slept poorly since the idea crossed her mind, something she could share with no one. Only the strength of their Khan was holding Omega Galaxy together. They had expected victories, not a desperate race home to face a threat no one had even imagined.
The dropship shook again, and Sarah’s resolve to leave this part of the battle to officers trained for it shattered. Her finger stabbed at the comms panel. “Status!” she demanded.
“Two of their destroyers have been destroyed, my Khan. The Osis’ Pryde is heavily engaged.”
Perhaps she had misjudged the Star Commodore. Canto had warned her that the ancient Potemkin-class troop cruiser was not intended for stand-up battles. There was no choice but to commit her against the enemy warships… but expectations must be realistic.
Still… “I mean the landings!”
“We are entering the upper atmosphere, you should be feeling it,” the commander grated. “We are within minutes of the drop.” Sarah heard a ‘so let me deal with it’ but ignored the disrespectful tone. “The enemy knows it and their fighters are attempting interceptions.”
“We have fighters of our own.” That was true. “And once you have dropped us, you will no longer be targeted.” That was just her hope. The plan was for the dropships to make for Abysmal - the smaller continent had not been touched in the fighting so the facilities there could repair damage to the dropships. More importantly, the factories there could provide munitions, spare parts - even replacement omnimechs - and everything else needed to supply Sarah’s campaign to liberate Huntress. Once Lootera was secure, the dropships could make sub-orbital hops in relative safety, trusting in the surface to orbit batteries to protect them.
The old pilot commanding Righteous Indignation grunted… and then she heard him gasp. “No, what are they doing?”
“What are who doing?”
“I… damn them! Boarding shuttles!”
“Here?” Who in their right mind would attempt to board a dropship that was making re-entry. There was courage, but that would be utter insanity!
“The Osis’ Pride!” Sarah’s recollection that she had drafted the elementals of the cruiser’s security detachment to reinforce Omega Galaxy was cut short a moment later by another curse from the pilot. “Canto, you surat!”
“Tell me what is going on!” Sarah roared.
But the Khan got no answer, only frantic reports and orders from the bridge that she realized she was overhearing only because the commander had forgotten to cut her off. She heard something about the fighters. A recall that was too late to be useful. More curses about Canto - what had that fool done with the Osis’ Pride?
The howl of “Weapons free!” was not a good sign: the dropship formation was going in tight - firing their guns risked friendly fire - the Smoke Jaguar aerospace fighters were supposed to keep the enemy out of range for the transport dropships’ guns to be useful, much less needed.
And more than the words, the tones… Sarah knew that she was hearing a loss of control over the battle… and that was something that spoke of defeat.
Damn you, Showers! Did you take every competent dropship crew with you?!
Something slapped the side of the Righteous Indignation, slamming Sarah against her restraints. Had they taken a hit.
“Engine… out…” she heard someone warn.
And then: “All ‘mechs,” the commander ordered. “Prepare to drop!” Red-lights in her cockpit went amber, then green. She felt the mechanisms of the ‘mech bay come to life, lifting her cocooned ‘mech and preparing it for the next stop. The massive hatch began to grind open, the scream of air entering the dropship audible and rocking the Righteous Indignation further.
They were going too fast, she thought. This wasn’t even the planned drop - the count-down on her console was still three minutes short of the scheduled time.
There was a grinding noise - then sharp, explosive cracks that Sarah recognised as shaped charges. Something being forced open?
And then the sudden jolt of her cocoon being flung clear of the Righteous Indignation. The comms channel to the command deck cut out - the wires linking her to the dropship’s internal comms would have been cut when she was dropped. The sudden loss of human voices made her cockpit feel grave-like even as Sarah heard the fluc-fluc-fluc noise of the cocoon ablating.
It won’t last long, she thought. I’m moving too fast - hopefully it lasts enough. She seized the controls and settled her feet against the pedals that would let her control the jet-pack strapped onto her ‘mech, as if the one hundred ton war machine was little more than a soldier in the jump infantry.
Something exploded high in the sky above Sarah. She couldn’t tell what… one of the dropships perhaps? Maybe an enemy fighter?
A dreadful, shameful, crawling fear rose up inside her and the mechwarrior could feel sweat running down her face that she could not blame on heat.
Finally, after an eternity that had lasted less than two minutes, the cocoon finally broke away and Sarah’s sensors were able to paint her a picture of Huntress’ skies.
She was hundreds of kilometers away from Lootera, that much was evident. The water to the south must be the Liberation Sea, which meant she was on entirely the wrong side of the Jaguar Fang mountain range. Icons of other ‘mechs were visible in the sky, but scattered wildly - there would be no compact landing zone where Omega Galaxy could marshal quickly before launching the counter-attack.
Fiery streaks crossed the sky, the marks of dropships through the atmosphere. Some ended in abrupt fireballs or veered sharply into vertical descents. A few arced off to the north or south, breaking off from the pack in hope of avoiding pursuit.
And aerospace fighters were slashing through the chaos like the arrows of the gods, cutting through everything they came across.
Some wore the snarling jaguar of her Clan, others the dragon of Rasalhague, a fiery bird or a sword emerging from water. Every fighter on both sides displayed the Cameron Star.
One, two, three fighters died in the sky around Sarah in as many seconds, and that was just in the easy reach of her own sensors. Two had been Smoke Jaguars, which said poor things about the readiness of her pilots. The third had been one of the enemy - but only one of them.
The best estimate was that the invaders had around sixty aerospace fighters. Sarah had only commanded about that many herself - Omega Galaxy’s aerospace binaries had been battered covering the withdrawal from Vinton, replenished from the garrison there and the Osis’ Pryde’s own squadron. The loss ratio suggested that the parity was being lost.
Alarms blared, warning that Sarah herself was being targeted. A dart-like aerospace fighter - one of the Cor-Stars used by ComStar - was lighting her up. The khan twisted her ‘mech, aware that abandoning the stable drop position was a risk but subordinating that to the much more immediate hazard of being shredded by the fighter’s lasers.
Every bit of reaction mass in the jump-pack was precious, but little more than a breath was enough to turn the Iron Cheetah enough for the resulting tumble to bring her PPCs to bear.
Two particle bolts lashed out and smashed one of the wings on the fighter… bare seconds after the Cor-Star’s own lasers slashed a line across armor… and across the auxiliary jump-pack.
Sarah Weaver had the satisfaction of seeing the CorStar tumbling wildly as it lost control under her shots… but then she saw the fuel gauge of the jump pack drop precipitously. The lasers had penetrated the tanks of liquid hydrogen and more than a ton of the precious reactor mass was spraying out into the sky.
The altimeter told the saKhan of Clan Smoke Jaguar that she was still several kilometers above the ground, a distance shrinking faster and faster as gravity dragged her ‘mech down. Without the jump pack, there was no way to slow her fall… and the twist to bring her guns to bear and her tumbling wildly, unable to safely eject.
It took just under a minute for Sarah Weaver to complete her return to Huntress… and she was screaming in rage the whole way down.
Jaguar’s Fangs Mountain Range, Huntress
Kerensky Cluster, Clan Homeworlds
6 May 3058
Tyra was getting better about being shot down.
First time she’d woken in an enemy medical bay. The next she’d ridden the fighter into the ground and had to be picked up by a particularly useless group of ComGuards.
This time, at least, she’d managed to eject and make it to the ground without injury. The mechwarrior in that Iron Cheetah had devilishly good aim - hopefully she had done enough damage to the ‘mech that the Task Force wouldn’t have to face them on the ground.
Even if ‘getting good’ at losing fighters wasn’t something to boast of, at least Tyra was at large to make her way back to the rest of the task force. Their current base was at Baghera, in the mountains, and she was fairly sure she knew the rough direction.
In theory she could have just followed the roadsigns - Baghera sat on the main highway through the mountains. But Task Force Topaz had marched through this region to get that far so the roadsigns weren’t likely to be reliable. Civilians had removed or altered the signs to confuse them - and of course, the things were obvious targets for bored mech-jocks to punch at as they went past them.
Still, find the highway and follow it east. How hard could it be?
Three hours later, she was remembering route marches from the academy and regretting her earlier hubris. It would be much easier to do this if she had transport. At this rate, by the time she got to Baghera, the task force would have been gone for weeks - debate among the command staff had already been leaning towards giving up on Lootera and leaving for the Inner Sphere, rather than risk further losses. The arrival of Smoke Jaguar reinforcements, however haphazardly, would probably have settled the matter.
Fortunately those three hours had taken her as far as a road and, even better, something resembling civilization. The small farming village didn’t seem heavily populated but there were enough barns, workshops and other outbuildings that she should be able to get into the center without being noticed much.
Looking down at herself, Tyra concluded that - covered in dust as it was - her flightsuit looked fairly similar to the jumpsuits worn by most Smoke Jaguar warriors for day-to-day use. The Kungsarme patch and the Flying Drakons badges would have to go, but that only took a few moments with the blade from her survival kit to handle.
Ideally, she thought, nobody stops me. I just need a car or truck that’s unsupervised and has a tank of gas. The Clans were a high trust society - they rarely secured doors and vehicles.
If someone did try to talk to her, she’d be best masquerading as a Smoke Jaguar warrior. Chances were that none of the civilians would dare stand up to her unless they suspected her. As baffling as it might seem, very few of the civilian castes seemed to have rebellious thoughts against their Clan. Or, if they did, they kept them quiet… for good reason.
Still, Tyra might run into an exception, someone wanting payback and willing to take it out on a lone warrior who might be missed; so she checked her sidearm was loose in its holster before she tried to enter the village.
Her luck held though - while she saw no suitable vehicles unsupervised as she walked through the dirt roads between the buildings, no one tried to approach her - in fact, the outskirts seemed mostly empty. If she hadn’t seen workers out in the fields, Tyra would have suspected the place was deserted.
And as she reached the center of the village, she saw exactly what she needed - a light utility truck, suited for off-road use and of the same type she’d used often. And best of all, the engine under the hood was a small fusion reactor - barely large enough to register on the scale needed for combat vehicles but for something this size, it gave the truck a range that might as well have been infinite.
The truck was parked in front of the village store, which probably explained where the owner was. Trying not to look furtive, she walked down the street towards it and caught hold of the door handle as she went past. If it hadn’t opened, she would have gone past and considered her options. However, the door unlatched and so she swung herself inside.
The seat was a little too far back for her and she reached down to adjust it.
“Hey!”
Of all the timing! Looking up, Tyra saw a young man - more a boy than a man - standing at the entrance of the store. He had a carbine suspended from his shoulder by a tactical sling and in the time it took Tyra to get her hand onto her gun, the muzzle was up and she could see down the barrel.
“Do not point that at me unless you plan to use it,” she snapped, barely remembering to use the ‘proper’ clipped English of the Clans.
“I will,” he spat, voice high with excitement. “Get out of our truck.”
Tyra looked at him. Looked at the gun. Then she started the engine. “I am commandeering this vehicle.”
“You cannot commandeer from a warrior!”
More of them were coming out of the store now, five… no six. All wearing the same coveralls. All of them armed and none looking past their teens. “You are a warrior?” Tyra asked contemptuously. “You do not look old enough to have passed your trials. How old are you? Seventeen?”
There was a sharp laugh from one of the other warriors. But they were spreading out slowly, all of them gripping carbines.
The boy flushed. “Eighteen. But our Clan needs us and we answer the call.”
Tyra snorted and reached for the door to pull it close.
He licked his lips nervously but the gun never ceased to bear upon Tyra. “I do not want to have to clean the cab but I will shoot you if you do not get out. Now!”
“That will not be necessary, Sam,” a quiet voice corrected him from the doorway. The man who emerged from the store was older than any of them and moved with confidence. As he stepped out into the sun, Tyra could see flesh and metal in familiar features. “Tyra. I did not expect to see you back here.”
She swallowed. “It is a small galaxy, Trent.”
For a moment, they could have been five years back - warrior and technician. Outcast and bondswoman.
And then they were on a dusty street again, youths claiming the title of warrior eyeing each of them uncertainly. “You know her, sir?”
Trent sighed heavily. “Aff. She is a warrior.” Then he glanced around at them. “My command,” he told Tyra. “Warriors all.”
So he’d been made a trainer. Tyra knew that the post was not considered an honor for the Clans, more… getting one last piece of use out of a warrior too old to fight. “If you say it, then it must be so,” she allowed.
“We will fight with Khan Weaver,” Sam exclaimed proudly. “We will retake our world!”
Tyra imagined the little squad trying to take on a tank or ‘mech and the result seemed obvious. Still, they could easily be dangerous against an infantry squad… or a lone pilot trying to get back to her lines. “That assumes that she makes it to the surface alive,” she said instead, indicating the sky. “The Khan is formidable but we all have limits.”
“Something you should remember,” Trent warned her.
“I am taking this truck, Trent.” She could have backed down, found something else, but Tyra had a suspicion that doing so would be showing weakness to this pack of half-trained and aggressive young Jaguars. And that would not end well.
The scarred mechwarrior grunted deep in his chest. “So, cubs. It seems that my old friend is challenging us to a trial of possession for our transportation. Do you need me to remind you how to respond?”
The group moved back to circle him, looking at each other and no longer paying any mind to Tyra. Even Sam backed up, lowering his carbine.
“I will defeat her,” the one girl among them boasted. She drew a survival knife. “Knives!”
“Hah!” The tallest of the boys clapped his hands together sharply. “Who needs weapons? I will best her with my bare hands!”
Trent chuckled, the sound turned into a harsh cough. “Will you?”
“Neg,” Sam warned. “I will beat her.” He unstrapped his carbine.
“What do you bid that is less than no weapon,” demanded the tall boy.
“I will beat her with one hand tied behind my back!”
Trent glanced over at Tyra, who shook her head slightly. He snorted. “Very well, that is the lowest bid. Does anyone think they can fight with less?”
The other four all shook their heads and stepped back.
“Very well.” Trent accepted the carbine he was offered. “Sam, you are elected to defend our rights to the truck. If you win, Tyra must find other transportation. If not… I think she will let us remove our gear from the back.”
“Bargained well and done,” Tyra agreed, watching in amusement as Sam loosened his belt and thrust his hand through the back of it. He needed another boy’s help to tighten the belt again and winced slightly as it was secured.
“Are you both ready?” Trent asked. “Then begin,” he ordered once Tyra and Sam had both agreed.
Sam took two steps towards the truck and then froze as he found the muzzle of Tyra’s side-arm pointed right between his eyes. Eyes that went wide sharply at the sight.
“What is your plan now?” Tyra asked him quietly.
“I…” He gulped. “Star Captain?”
Trent coughed again. “Breaking your bid is dishonorable, warrior. And your dishonor reflects upon me, as your trainer and your commander. Why should I incur dishonor because you bid poorly?”
There was a snicker from one of the other youngsters and Sam’s head snapped up. He looked desperate, ready to do something stupid.
“I offer you hegira,” Tyra told him before some poorly calculated risk could be taken. “The Smoke Jaguars need warriors and if Trent tells me that you are worthy then it must be so.”
Sam licked his lips and then lowered his head. “I accept.”
Tyra raised the gun slightly but didn’t put it away until the boy had backed up.
“Get your gear from the back,” Trent ordered the other four. “And Sam’s as well.”
The four bustled forwards, giving Sam sidelong looks that made it clear that he was now the low man on the totem pole.
“Knives?” Tyra asked, giving the girl a pointed look. Then she turned to the taller boy. “Bare hands?” She shook her head, slipping her sidearm away. The two looked abashed.
Trent gave her a nod. “I cannot spare a map for you, but the highway is thirty kilometers south of us. The Spheroids watch it so we use side roads to get around them.”
Understanding his unspoken message, Tyra nodded wordlessly. Then she pulled the door shut. “The Spheroids will leave soon. This was a raid. But other Clans will arrive soon.”
“Aff,” he grunted. “We will be ready.”
She wanted to wish him luck, but knew it would be uncharacteristic of a Smoke Jaguar warrior. “Skill, Trent.”
“And you, Tyra.” He lowered his voice. “Did you get shot down again? It is a bad habit, even if you keep surviving.”
The last of the kids jumped down, having removed six rucksacks from the truckbed. Tyra looked for something more to say and found nothing. He would not join her and she would not join him. From his expression, he felt the same way.
Putting the truck into gear, Tyra stepped on the accelerator and it roared away. Dust was kicked up over the six of them and indignant curses from the child-warriors of Clan Smoke Jaguar chased her out of the village.
New Samos, Kirchbach
Clan Wolf Occupation Zone
4 June 3058
The Zeerga had been on Kirchbach. New Samos, the capital, was still burning in places where the garrison had gone in to secure the administration center.
“Vlad did not need to do that,” Phelan Ward reported, face grim. He had taken a cluster from Beta Galaxy in to support the firefighters. “The garrison had already been beaten, he had control of the planet.”
Ulric had stayed with the bulk of the Clan forces, outside the city. “He could have acquired the data and the staff without the damage,” he agreed. “But there is a reason he did it this way.”
Jena Carns scowled. Her Fourth Wolf Guards were currently providing the perimeter. “If they wanted to fight over their exile, why are they not here? They had to know we would respond.”
The Khan combed through his short beard with the fingers of his left hand. “Two questions with one answer: Vlad - and I agree, this is his strategy, not Marialle Radick’s - does not just want to fight us, he wants to beat us. Me, in particular.” He watched the two, wondering if his old friend would understand first or if Phelan would show what he had learned.
“We know he was here for information,” Jena pointed out. “The Zeerga have been out of touch for a year, but they should have a good idea by now of the situation from Sigma’s files.”
Phelan stiffened. “He is shaping the battlefield.”
“What battlefield, he is not here!”
Ulric shook his head. Jena was a very sharp tactician, she had commanded the Fourth Wolf Guards for twice as long as most officers managed to serve as Star Colonel, but there was a reason she had never risen to Galaxy Commander. “The larger battlefield.” He nodded to Phelan. “Go on.”
“The information here is not going to add much to what the Zeerga know already,” the young man thought out loud. “They probably learned more when they hit the ComStar enclave.”
Having been on the frontlines of the first two Succession Wars, Kirchbach had taken serious damage. As one of the few places that was not at risk of WMDs, ComStar’s HPG station had become a destination for refugees. More than a century later, it was one of the major cities with a sizable area around it that wasn’t formally part of the enclave but depended on it economically. There had been a battalion of ComGuards there before the Zeerga arrived - now there was not, and the city looked worse than New Samos did.
Phelan looked up and met Ulric’s gaze. “We promised protection to these people and we failed. It makes Clan Wolf look weak.”
“Exactly,” the Khan agreed. “They wanted to draw out a response. This is the second attack since Star’s End and the pattern is the same. The uprisings since the interdiction are a problem but it is manageable. If Clan Wolf’s strength and reliability are in question, that could become much worse. We cannot ignore this, but reinforcing all the garrisons here means the Zeerga can pick units off individually.”
“They know that they are outnumbered.” Jena smacked one hand against her thigh. “Going for isolated garrisons is to weaken us so that we cannot use our numbers against them.”
“And without a fixed base of operations, we cannot pin them down. Those Leviathans may be basically barges but they can go anywhere,” Phelan realized. “Damn…”
“Not anywhere. There is a limit to both their supplies and how long the civilians aboard will put up with their quarters,” Ulric corrected him. “You have read some of our history, do you recall the Prinz Eugen mutiny?”
That got a thoughtful look. “Not in detail. The crew wanted to quit Kerensky’s Exodus fleet and marines had to storm the ship.”
“Close enough. The point is that long journeys put stress on passengers, particularly on ships that cannot be in the best of condition. While the Zeerga have not been traveling as long as the Exodus Fleet had been at that point, pressure will be building. Civilians will be less productive and the warriors…”
“They must be climbing the walls!” Jena went to the window and indicated the smoke rising from New Samos’ skyline. “And their Khans letting them off the leash is part of why there was so much collateral damage.”
Ulric nodded in agreement. “Radick and Ward must have promised them something to still be in control of their Clan Council. And we know how warriors are, particularly when they are young. They will want chances to prove themselves and gain glory. A long period of denial and now a taste…”
“So they are on a deadline,” Phelan concluded. “Assuming that they are looking to confront you,” he pointed at Ulric, “Then sooner or later they have to do that.”
“And balance that against giving them the best chance of success.”
“That assumes they do not go right for Tamar.” Jena had the look on her face that said she was playing devil’s advocate.
Ulric shook his head. “Unlikely. We would have the supplies, the fixed defenses and it would be easier for us to call in reinforcements from Delta and Gamma. No, they are trying to draw me out.” He paused and then looked over at Phelan. “Probably to draw you out as well, Phelan. Vlad has not forgotten your history with him.”
“I figured that.” The young Star Colonel shook his head. “So he does not know yet we are here.”
“Even if he did, he will want to eliminate more of Theta Galaxy before he strikes.” Ulric stroked his beard. “Two, perhaps three attacks to eliminate support and - they hope - to force us to disperse our forces.”
Jena looked over at the city. “I do not like the idea of more cities suffering this, Ulric.”
“Nor do I.” The Khan looked out. Vlad has found an excellent angle to undermine us. He would have been so valuable to the Clan if he had not fallen in with the lunatic fringe. “Unfortunately, they have the initiative for now. We will start by making my presence known. Not here though, Kirchbach is not central enough… Liezen would be better. From there we can act as a reaction force with some chance of intercepting them.”
“You are thinking of our warships,” she said.
“Yes, we have a naval star with us. Even if our ground forces cannot arrive in time, taking out their transport will either pin them in place or force them to leave some of their forces behind.” The Zeerga didn’t even need to have their ships destroyed, just damaged. “But even if that does not work, once I am there the pressure from their Clan Council to confront me will be increased. The sooner the confrontation takes place, the less of this,” he pointed out the window, “We have to deal with.”
“They have at least three galaxies,” Phelan warned. “Maybe more if they have a significant amount of captured material and Wolf warriors willing to fight for them. Alpha, Beta and Epsilon are good, but that may not be enough.”
Ulric saw Jena bristle at that and shrugged. “Even if we win, we could take losses that leave us weakened in face of other threats. That is why I need you to go back to Rasalhague, Phelan.”
“Me?”
“Yes, I have a mission for you. If we are going to defeat the Zeerga without shattering half our available forces, we need to take advantage of their biggest vulnerability.”
“And what would that be?” Jena enquired.
Ulric smiled wolfishly. “Their quite phenomenal ability to make enemies.”
-
I guess Sarah was righteously indignant all the way to her high speed dirt impact.
It's good to see that Tyra and Trent got to meet again in sort of friendly way, a valuable lesson for sibkos as well, if they are willing to learn, that is.
Will Ulric try to manipulate both Jaguars and Raging Bovines into attacking Rasalhague, making it a four way fight?
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Ulric nailed their greatest vulnerability! ;D
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Tyra's and Trent's chance meeting was really touching. It's a strange relationship those two have formed, but it feels realistic and relatable.
And Righteous Indignation is the most Smoke Jaguar name ever :grin:
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I guess Sarah was righteously indignant all the way to her high speed dirt impact.
Ooh she learned about lithobraking.
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Well, at least she'll maybe get a battlemech maneuver named after herself ... the Sarah Weaver Highdiving Headbutt, patent pending and odds of survival not revealed at this time.
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The manoeuvre even has a theme song
Do it if you dare
Leaping from the sky
Hurling thru the air
Exhilarating high
See the earth below
Soon to make a crater
Blue sky, black death
I'm off to meet my maker
Energy of the Gods, adrenalin surge
Won't stop 'til I hit the ground
I'm on my way for sure
Up here in the air this will never hurt
I'm on my way to impact
Taste the high speed dirt
Paralyzed with fear
Feel velocity gain
Entering a near
Catatonic state
Pressure of the sound
Roaring thru my head
Crash into the ground
Damned if I'll be dead
Energy of the gods, adrenalin surge
Won't stop 'til I hit the ground
I'm on my way for sure
Up here in the air this will never hurt
I'm on my way to impact
A Taste of high speed dirt
Jump or die!
Dropping all my weight
Going down full throttle
The Pale Horse awaits
Like a genie in a bottle
Fire in my veins
Faster as I go
I forgot my name
I'm a dirt torpedo
High speed dirt
Megadeath - High Speed Dirt
-
Tyra's and Trent's chance meeting was really touching. It's a strange relationship those two have formed, but it feels realistic and relatable.
And Righteous Indignation is the most Smoke Jaguar name ever :grin:
+1 for Tyra and Trent... but "Scream and Leap" would seem to be EVEN MORE SJ... ;D
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+1 for Tyra and Trent... but "Scream and Leap" would seem to be EVEN MORE SJ... ;D
Likely isorla from the Hellions...
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ALSO true! :D
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And Righteous Indignation is the most Smoke Jaguar name ever :grin:
I dunno... it sounds a bit too restrained to be really them.
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The 'jump is a prison for mechwarriors, naval combat hell because you are not in control' is a repeated theme in Drakenis' writing, but this is perhaps the worst it has ever been. Seldom has a jump gone soo badly, has naval combat been so spectacularly out of your control. And yet, as a Khan, this is all Weaver's fault. She, presumably, chose the plans for this mission. She chose the officers around her, to a greater or lesser extent. And as an individual combatant, she fell victim to the 'oh no I can't eject' demons. This is why, you see, your jetpack for landing a battlemech should be all-solid rocket motors without fuel to drain, with a backup of 'a parachute big enough to break the mech's legs, but not any other critical parts.' :P
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A solid rocket motor would be the last thing you’d want in a jump pack.
Solid rocket motors are not throttlable: you light them, they burn in the predetermined pattern you packed the solid propellant into them for the exact flight profile you intended. Once lit, a solid rocket motor burns until empty. You would need to know the exact release height, local gravity and precise position you’re dropping your ‘Mech at to use such a pack, because the solid rocket motor would need its solid rocket fuel arranged internally to ether exact configuration, and any deviation from that flight pattern would cause it to fail.
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Omi and Victor, at least. I don't think we've seen Victor share his concerns with his family or friends. Of course, with Hanse still alive and Victor more involved with governance and bureaucracy, there certainly is less opportunity for Katherine to accelerate her journey towards a throne. She's also much more involved on the Davion side of the F-C, so there might be an opportunity for her to exploit any dissent (among the Draconis March especially) about focusing too much on the "Lyran" problem of the Clan front and not taking the golden opportunity of ending the threat of the Combine for good.
There might be less dissent, with the Combine so reduced to more or less a buffer state and rather focused on the Diamond Sharks. And enough people in power can do the calculus that if they take out the remains of the Combine? Then they'd be on the front with the Clans there as well.
The "Shark March" 'joke' Omi overheard, or was deliberately let slip in her hearing? Recognizes the situation of the Combine being a buffer state, and perhaps a small amount of fear that it might fully collapse and the Clans will be facing them directly instead.
As for the New Star League offensive? There are basically two flanks, one in Lyran space, the other in the Combine. There is some fighting in the Outworlds, but I suspect of the two the Draconis March would rather see Combine soldiers die for their Coordinator than Davion ones.
-
Opalescent Reflections
Full House
Chapter 13
Unity City, North America
Terra, Sol System
30 July 3058
“In conclusion, we believe that with the lack of any significant offensive action by the Clans, Task Force Emerald can reasonably be deployed to push back Clan Wolf and Clan Ghost Bear, allowing greater exploitation of Clan Smoke Jaguar’s current weak position.” Narimasa Asano closed his briefing folder and stepped back from the podium, giving the assembled officers a polite bow.
Victor’s cousin stood from where he’d been seated, to the side of the podium. Morgan Hasek-Davion towered over the former Genyosha commander but there was a similarity to their manner - both expert soldiers and the leaders of such with decades of experience between them.
It was still strange to see the Marshal of Armies in SLDF olive rather than AFFC blues or the black of the Kathil Uhlans. Morgan rested one hand on either side of the podium. “The dispatch of part of Task Force Emerald to strike at Clan Wolf has been approved in principle by the Star League Council,” he reminded the assembly of officers from all the new Star League’s member-states. “Re-establishing the Free Rasalhague Republic in some form -” The proposal of the Republic starting under protectorate status of the Draconis Combine had been something of a bombshell in diplomatic circles. “- has been a goal of the Star League from the beginning. The news that part of the Wolf forces are diverted to deal with their own exiles is too good an opportunity to ignore. Discussion of how we do this is welcome, the matter of whether or not we do is closed. I trust you all understand.”
The redhead looked around the room for a moment and nodded in satisfaction. “There has been another request for forces to be detached from Task Force Emerald, in this case from the Federated Commonwealth.” He turned to where Victor was waiting off the side of the stage. “To present the proposal, Kommandant-General Steiner Davion.”
Victor marched to the podium and in the interval, one of the staffers moved a small platform into place, to adjust to the difference in height between the two cousins. Looking out at the audience, Victor was tempted for a moment to request that they reconvene in the ‘mech hangar. It would probably be less intimidating to be facing them if they were in ‘mechs where he couldn’t see their faces.
Brushing the impulse aside, he activated the display. “The fall of Inarcs means that so far as we are aware, Clan Steel Viper has no further outposts within the Inner Sphere. Given their past history we are not prepared to assert that they will not return, but confirmed salvage and casualties suggest a minimum of half and more probably three-quarters of their total forces available have been lost.” The high estimates based on some claims were as high as nine galaxies, which was higher than most estimates of the Clan’s total available strength in the Inner Sphere, so he chose not to mention that.
The display shifted from estimated Steel Vipers strength to that of Task Force Sapphire. “Our own losses have not been negligible. A quarter of the regiments committed are shattered or in need of extended recovery.” The worst losses had been from ComStar’s Ninth Division whose forces had started behind enemy lines, but there had been other reverses like the loss of the Fourth Deneb Light Cavalry’s Third Battalion. “The remainder are currently making good their losses and we expect the last of them to be ready for action in September.”
Victor leant forwards. “Some of those regiments will remain in place to maintain our hold on the former Steel Viper Occupation Zone. Others will be trading places with fresh regiments currently facing the Jade Falcons and Nova Cats. In a little more than two months, we will be ready to resume military operations with thirty commands of at least brigade-size. I am requesting reinforcement by a third of the strategic reserve with a goal of securing a line between Biuque and Benfled.”
The display switched to outline current dispositions in the region. Biuque had been one of the more isolated Steel Viper worlds, near Tharkad. It had been a staging area for secondary attacks that had seized the Ludwigshafen-Mississauga-Blumenort pocket and was still strongly held. Benfled, on the other hand, was well behind enemy lines - currently in Jade Falcon hands and bordering the Wolf Occupation Zone.
“The potential gains are the liberation of twenty further worlds from the Clans, significantly increasing strategic depth around Tharkad.” Victor indicated the map. “It would also position us to support operations against Clan Wolf, either covering the flank of the advance or at least presenting a potential threat that the Wolves must honor.”
Asano, who had rejoined the audience, raised one hand politely for attention. “I would characterize that as a very aggressive approach, if it only involved striking at one Clan.” He paused. “That is not disapproval, Kommandant-General, DCMS doctrine approves of such strategic boldness. However, the map is clear that that seven of the targeted worlds are in the hands of Clan Nova Cat, so this would require the reinforced Task Force Sapphire to fight two Clans. That strays from aggressive towards being optimistic.”
There was never going to be a better opening, so Victor set aside his notes. “That is correct, General. A somewhat more conservative alternative would be to strike only at Clan Jade Falcon’s worlds - eliminating the sizeable pocket of worlds that are for the most part separated from the rest of their Occupation Zone by Clan Nova Cat’s current holdings.” He raised his index finger. “However, we have an opportunity to neutralize Clan Nova Cat, which would allow us to secure those worlds.”
“Neutralize an entire Clan?” a Capellan colonel asked, incredulously. “That seems easier said than done.”
“It is an opportunity, not a certainty,” Victor agreed. “Khan Sevren Leroux sent a message to my parents earlier this year, delivered by courier ship to Coventry given the interdiction. The creation of a new Star League has been of considerable interest to them.”
“Are they trying to join?” asked the Capellan sarcastically.
Victor nodded. “That would not really work, of course.”
Narimasa Asano was far too professional to swear but there was a dark look in his eyes as he saw the statement snare attention around the room. If Victor got the support he wanted, that would mean there were insufficient forces left in Task Force Emerald to back operations against both the Wolves and the Ghost Bears - and the Wolves had already been confirmed.
It was too bad for Minoru Kurita, but the AFFC had already sent forces to support him. The Ghost Bears were just going to have to wait a bit longer. Victor hoped Omi didn’t take this badly, but it was his duty to represent the Federated Commonwealth and the chance to liberate these worlds was just too good to pass up.
“Negotiations have been protracted,” he added. “The Nova Catas were asked to demonstrate good faith by assisting us indirectly, which they did by securing the Steel Viper enclave on Sargasso - something we would have found difficult to do without clashing with the Jade Falcons who hold half the world.” The price for that had been orders for LIC teams inciting revolt on several worlds to go silent. Victor felt dirty doing that - it would leave several such movements bereft of support and leadership, but it wouldn’t stop some people trying anyway - and most likely they would be butchered. The Nova Cats were more reasonable than some other Clans… but that didn’t mean they would take active rebellion lightly.
“What sort of terms are they offering?” asked Asano in a voice that barely reached Victor’s ears.
“At the moment, there are two offers on the table, one that favors the Federated Commonwealth and the other that is more to the Nova Cat’s liking,” Victor began. “Now that the truly unacceptable terms have been dismissed, agreement has been reached to settle the matter in the only way that would really be acceptable to the Clans: in battle.” Victor clasped his hands in front of him. “At the same time as our first strikes against the Jade Falcons, I will be taking a task force to Clan Nova Cat’s headquarters to fight a trial.”
Out of the corner of his eyes, he saw Morgan Hasek-Davion’s head whip around sharply. The decision of who would represent the Federated Commonwealth had not been easily made and thus far it had not been revealed even to the uniformed head of the AFFC.
“You will be doing this personally?” asked Anastasius Focht. “Placing one of the most well-informed of our officers in a position to be captured seems rash.” The old general rarely spoke to the SLDF staff since he had stood down as commanding general, wishing to give space for Morgan to establish himself.
Victor shook his head. “It’s necessary. Khan Leroux will command personally and we need to send someone who is equivalent in rank - someone from the higher echelons of the AFFC or a member of the royal family, preferably both.”
“I am surprised Hanse Davion isn’t taking the field himself. The Fox is -” The Capellan found himself staring into Victor’s glare and shut up.
“My father has never faced the Clans in battle personally. This also eliminated several other candidates.” One part truth to one part lie. Jackson Davion and Nondi Steiner had been disqualified for that reason, but it was not why Hanse Davion would not be leading the operation.
A certain light had gone out of the First Prince’s eyes since he was informed that he was no longer medically fit to pilot a battlemech. He had probably never seriously considered going to the frontlines, but learning he could not command from the cockpit if the war came home to him had hit hard.
Morgan stepped forwards slightly. “I assume that this will be going ahead regardless of today’s decision?”
“It will,” Victor confirmed. “Depending on the outcome, and on the decision regarding Task Force Emerald, the scale of operations against the Jade Falcon will be affected but taking the Nova Cats out of play is too significant.”
“What happens if you lose this trial?” inquired Asano. “What is the Nova Cat’s goal here?”
“If I fail, we will cede control of much of their occupation zone to them,” he admitted. “Some outlying and disjointed territories will be returned to the Federated Commonwealth, and a mutual defense treaty will be signed. In addition, we will be obligated not to vote against any application they make to join the Star League.”
“I cannot imagine the Coordinator making such concessions.”
“I do not intend to lose, General Asano. But the enemy gets a vote. If this goes against us then we will have a neutral covering part of our border with the Clans.” Victor paused. “Not unlike the Free Rasalhague Republic’s role in the past.”
The Combine general tilted his head in acknowledgement. “And in the event that you triumph?”
“Then they will become part of the Star League, because they will become part of the Federated Commonwealth,” Victor told him. “One of their first Khans was apparently a Rim Worlder who fought for Kerensky, and their occupation zone includes some worlds that were once part of the Rim Worlds Republic so they seem to see it as a return home… of a sort.”
The Capellan colonel raised his hand. “What about those they have taken as bondsmen? I understand that neither Clan Smoke Jaguar nor Clan Steel Viper allow captives to serve them in a military capacity, but the same is not true of other Clans.”
“If I win, Clan Nova Cat will release any bondsmen who wish to leave them. If not…” Victor grimaced. “Well, even if I survive I may find myself in their hands. Precautions are being taken.” He chose to believe that those efforts would be to rescue him, but the prospect of being indoctrinated the way Phelan Kell and Ciro Ramirez apparently had been was horrifying. He hoped the Nova Cats would return his previous gesture of offering hegira, but there was no guarantee that they would.
“It has previously been agreed that those put to labor by the Clans are treated as prisoners of war once recovered,” the colonel persisted. “But what of those who take up arms against you?”
Asano - whose realm took a rather different view of prisoners of war than the Federated Commonwealth, a point rather brushed over in the agreement - cleared his throat. “That is treason, colonel. And the reward for that is well known.”
“If I win, then Nova Cat warriors who were once members of the AFFC will technically have returned to the service of the Federated Commonwealth,” Victor observed. “Otherwise it will be the same as other Clans: they will be stripped of their citizenship and dishonorably discharged.”
“Execution would be more appropriate,” the colonel observed provocatively.
General Asano gave him a narrow look. “Some within the DCMS agree, however that is the decision of each nation.”
Morgan gestured for Victor to step aside - the younger man realized his knuckles were white from gripping the podium tightly in his anger. “That is off topic,” the commanding general declared with complete assurance. “We have two proposals for the employment of Task Force Emerald. The final decision will fall to the Star League Council but it is our job to provide them with a proper analysis of the benefits and problems of each…”
Barrett, Milligan’s World
Outworlds Alliance
4 August 3058
In theory, Milligan had been reclaimed for the Outworlds Alliance by the efforts of Task Force Opal. The fact that the Diamond Shark emissary only needed a VTOL to reach the meeting site rather than a dropship or at least a shuttle suggested that the Clan hadn’t been driven as far as certain officers wanted to believe.
“Do you have any last minute suggestions for negotiating with the Clans?” the young president of the Outworlds Alliance asked quietly as the rotorwing settled down on the improvised helipad.
Wei covered her mouth and nose with her sleeve, which had enough material to keep the worst of the dust off at this distance from the landing. “Usually I provoke them via HPG. This is going to be a bit different.”
The two of them did have guard details with them, and there were elements of three different armed forces within a few minutes’ travel… but if the VTOL was carrying a team of Elementals or even just unarmored commandos, then there was a real risk to both herself and Mitchell Avellar.
The young head of state sighed slightly and then tensed as the door of the vehicle slid open. To run, not to fight - which was probably wise.
To both of their reliefs, only a small squad of Clan warriors dismounted and most of them fanned out to provide a small perimeter around their transportation. Only one of them walked towards the table and seats that had been set up, a lean man in a blue jumpsuit, hair covered by a ballcap.
“No swords,” Mitchell noticed as he and Wei approached the table which was in the open between the landing site and their security details.
Wei shrugged her shoulders. “The movies no doubt exaggerate a lot. He’s older than I expected.” Reports suggested that the infamous O-Same was between her age and Mitchell’s, but the Diamond Shark’s face was lined and as they got closer it was clear that the hair under the cap was gray at the temples.
The Diamond Shark reached the table first and sat down without waiting for them. “You are not in the robes, so I guess you are the President,” he told Avellar. “She is easier on the eyes though.”
“True, but not exactly relevant.” Mitchell pulled a chair out for Wei before sitting down. “You are Galaxy Commander Enders?”
“Aff… though not the one you were expecting, quineg?” The Diamond Shark gave them a sly smile. “So far there are no movies about my exploits but I live in hope.”
“There are two of you?” Wei murmured.
The smile spread even further. “I am empowered to accept your unconditional surrender. Also to negotiate, but I would gain much renown if you yielded these worlds back to the… Sharks do not have limbs, so I cannot say embrace… never mind, you get the idea.”
Wei looked at the man’s eyes and saw that he was playing the fool to disarm them. “And we stand ready to accept your surrender if you wish to offer it, Obviously you would have to surrender your weapons, but feeding and housing your warriors for the rest of your lives would be well within our resources.”
“Ah, but can you offer me a seventeen movie deal?”
“How do you feel about adult entertainment?” Wei riposted.
Enders considered that. “As opposed to an animated show for children?”
Avellar folded his arms across his chest. “Are either of you taking this remotely seriously?”
“If we must,” the Clanner allowed with a smirk. “So, if you do not want to surrender, what do you want?”
“I want your Clan to leave the Alliance’s worlds,” the president demanded.
Enders clicked his tongue. “And I would like your troops to leave the Clan’s worlds, so it is likely that one of us will be disappointed.
“We control these worlds now and half your forces have been destroyed. I’m offering you the chance to leave without further bloodshed.”
“That is something of a hard sell.” The older man cupped his chin for a moment. “Our aerospace pilots are very excited, you see. They rarely encounter peer opponents - no offense, Primus but even over Camlann your forces were rather green. Our warriors do not see bloodshed as negatively as you do.” Then he leant forward sharply. “And as long as we keep fighting, you do not control these worlds.”
“Are you suggesting that you do?” asked Wei.
“Oh, it is contested.” Enders allowed, leaning back in his chair in a relaxed pose. “But that is the point, you have not beaten us yet. Why should we give up - our losses are fewer than yours and we can spin this out for years.”
“These are our worlds. You cannot maintain hiding places here for long before we find you and root them out,” Avellar threatened.
“Long is somewhat inspecific,” the old man warned cheerfully. “Another year. Two? And arguably we are no longer bound by the Primus’ truce - would you like us to start raiding worlds like Quatre Bras or Alpheratz? I think that would cause you some logistical problems, quiaff?”
“You could raid us,” the president conceded. “However, if the truce is no longer a factor then what would stop your Sharks from grasping more - slicing deeper into the Draconis Combine, for example. There has been no new offensive, so I think that your bargaining position is weaker than you claim.”
Enders tilted his head slightly but he looked at Avellar with more respect than he had before. “Believe that if you wish, but our position is not so weak as to simply leave. After all, what would stop you from then following up into more worlds than those you are currently fighting for.”
Avellar cupped his hands on the table. “My word.”
“Your word?”
“Yes.” The young man nodded seriously. “Leave the borders of the Outworlds Alliance, as they were before your Clan invaded us, and I will not allow the Outworlds to be used as a staging area for further attacks. Nor will my pilots be sent to aid on other fronts.”
“Let us not go crazy here. Your pilots are worthy adversaries.” But Enders was thinking - Wei could almost see the wheels turning behind those cynical eyes. “Where do you stand on this, Primus? You have enclaves on these worlds, which we have been careful not to invade… staging troops from them technically would not violate President Avellar’s offer, but it would mean that it had no value to us.”
“A number of members of the Star League Council object to the idea of making the concession in the first place,” she observed. “However, if you are prepared to continue to respect our enclaves in your occupation zone, then I am willing to give the same assurance.”
Enders drummed his fingers on the table. “Including for worlds outside of the Outworlds Alliance? You know that we cannot promise that other Clans will respect your enclaves, and many of them are on worlds that are currently being contested.”
Oh yes. Wei was aware of every enclave that had been struck at by the Hells Horses, Ice Hellions and the Zeerga. “So long as it is only those Clans - and so long as it is understood that we may use the enclaves as bases against them… yes. We are willing to distinguish between individual Clans.”
“And yet you interdicted all of us over the Steel Vipers’ idiocy.”
Wei felt her stomach plunge at being called on that. “It is sometimes hard to tell which Clan is holding the one brain cell that you collectively share.”
There was a gulp from Mitchell Avellar’s direction but Enders threw his head back and laughed. “Never the Steel Vipers and never the Smoke Jaguars,” he answered after a moment. “And I think there may be as many as three brain cells - but sometimes they are in the homeworlds so I cannot blame you for being confused.”
At least he had a sense of humor. And Wei knew that most of the Clans appreciated daring. “I am not willing to lift the interdict,” she warned.
“And I am not authorized to return the HPG stations that lacked a perimeter,” the man said. “Nor would I if I could - making ourselves vulnerable like that again would be stupid.”
“So you do have one of the brain cells.”
“Yes, but I will give it back soon.” The Diamond Shark smirked. “And I understand that neither of you can keep the Draconis Combine from attacking us from their remaining worlds, so I will not ask that of you. Is there anything else?”
Mitchell leant forwards. “Prisoners of war.”
Enders scratched his cheek. “We do not take them, in the sense of that term. You mean bondsmen, quaiff?”
“Yes. I want my soldiers released. That is your custom under hegira.”
“This is not hegira, boy. This is bargaining. Learn the difference or you may not rule these worlds long.” The galaxy commander glared at Avellar.
“Not all of those bondsmen will adapt to Clan ways, Galaxy Commander,” Wei offered. “Why not give them the choice. If they wish to become Diamond Sharks - or Sea Foxes, depending on how your vote goes - then they can. The others would be a burden. And we do not take bondsmen as you do, so those of your warriors who we have captured may wish to rejoin your ranks.”
The aged warriors considered that. “There is still little advantage in it,” he said at last. “I will allow it, but I want something in return.”
“I am listening,” Mitchell said cautiously.
“We have begun infrastructure works on these worlds,” the Diamond Shark advised him. “Have them completed: we will provide expertise if you need it, you provide the funds and labor.”
The president winced. “I have some reports on what you had begun. We cannot afford it.”
“You cannot afford not to,” Enders said flatly. “We came here expecting worlds older and wealthier than ours. Sometimes we found them, but here in the Outworlds we found planets full of one-horse towns. If you leave that as it is then you will be a weak and unstable neighbor, one whose worlds will be used by bandits and pose a threat to us. And you know how we deal with threats.”
“There are things I cannot promise. We both know a leader whose people turn on them will fall and their promises will be forgotten,” Mitchell said in frustration.
The Diamond Shark shook his head. “You speak of the Omniss and their so-called pacifism. They also objected to the work we have begun.”
“And what did you do to them?” asked Wei.
“We ignored them. They are loud, but they are a minority.” Enders sneered. “Most of the people of these worlds welcomed the initiatives. You insist that we leave before our work is done? Then you will help us to complete it.”
-
Tengoku, Irece
Diamond Shark Dominion
19 August 3058
Ace’s ‘mech burst from its cocoon over the mountain that looked down on Irece’s capital city… and on the Lexatech factories that were the world’s major claim to fame.
The terrain around the factory was rugged - long ridges both natural and man-made that could support defense of the facility. Much of the factory itself was dug into the ground, buried under layers of armor and earth. Housing for the workers was some distance away, linked by underground monorails that were also used to bring in some of the material and components that fed the production lines. (One less monorail than there had been in 3056, due to sabotage. It would be dug out again, the way they all had to be after the ISF tried to deny Lexatech to the Diamond Sharks).
Fifty ‘mechs and three times that many elementals were dropping right into battle - below them, two exhausted galaxies were battering at each other, broken into little groups that stalked each other through the gullies and over the ridgelines. What was laid out for Ace like a tactical map was a mass of confusion for those in the midst of it.
Thirty aerospace fighters were escorting Ace’s drop. Right now, their sensors were focused on intercepting the threat of Smoke Jaguar fighters to the vulnerable ground forces of the Ivory Skate, not on feeding data to the ground, but the snatches that they did provide were having a visible effect. Ace could see blue-green omnimechs pulling out of pincer movements by their gray-painted adversaries, or turning the same trick on the Jaguars.
That didn’t change the fact that when the ‘mechs met on at least roughly even terms, the Smoke Jaguars were winning more often than not. With all the valor in the world, Omega Galaxy was less well equipped than their enemies, more depleted by months of retreat and made up as much by warriors drafted from local garrisons as it was by the original members of its five Clusters. The other second-line galaxies were regrouping on Cyrenaica after fighting Tau Galaxy to a standstill in it's advance on Luthien.
There were exceptions and Ace saw a pair of Warhawks dueling between two of the ridges, the one in blue-green visibly tearing through its gray counterpart, holding the Smoke Jaguar back from following up on smaller Diamond Sharks ‘mechs that were falling back to the next defensive line.
PPCs lashed out at the Diamond Shark, but the attacker’s heat was soaring and it could only fire two of the heavy weapons. In reply, the other Warhawk opened up its rival with a battery of pulse lasers.
Epsilon Galaxy’s commander knew only one mechwarrior who equipped his Warhawk with eight pulse lasers: Michel, the long absent member of his own command trinary. He also saw what the former Steel Viper could not: a full star of Smoke Jaguar assault ‘mechs about to crest the rise overlooking Michel’s position.
It would be a solid minute before Ace and his forces could get their boots dirty. “Michel!” he shouted into the command trinary’s net, trusting that his one-time bondsman would still be monitoring it. “Jaguar Star north of you!”
And then, because the Smoke Jaguars must surely know by now, he hit the general broadcast. “Omega Galaxy, this is Galaxy Commander Ace Enders. Today’s victory belongs to the Bloodscent -” the second-line galaxy’s nickname “- but you do not stand alone!”
Below him, he saw Michel do the only thing that would give him a chance: too slow to evade the pursuit, the Warhawk charged up the slope, using its angle to screen him until they full crested the ridge and opening up on the first of them he saw.
The Kingfisher took a savaging from the pulse lasers and almost went over backwards, but the assault ‘mech was impressively armored and the Smoke Jaguar clearly knew its characteristics well, keeping it upright and hitting back with his own pulse lasers and flights of missiles.
The rest of the Jaguar Star all turned towards Michel and for a moment Ace thought that the gambit would fail. But zellbrigen held and one ‘mech gestured sharply, sending three of them forwards and after the rest of Michel’s force. Only the Kingfisher and the Dire Wolf that had given the command remained, and the latter seemed content to wait.
Another exchange of shots saw the Kingfisher lose an arm but Michel’s Warhawk was practically glowing with heat, probably meaning a reactor hit.
Ace marked the location on the tactical map. “Command star, that’s where we are landing.” Fortunately every ‘mech in the star had jump jets so they weren’t depending on clumsy jump packs with limited fuel. All five of them could adjust trajectory and the jump jets would generate new reactor mass from the air they were falling through.
There were just clicks on the comm to acknowledge the order and flares of jump jets from the other four ‘mechs as they made the necessary corrections. Ace tapped his own jump jets the bare minimum to do this efficiently.
Down on the ground, the Kingfisher fell at last… and then the Dire Wolf opened up on the Warhawk’s rear with its autocannon, its missiles and many of its own lasers.
Michel’s assault ‘mech was formidable, but rear armor was never as good as the front. The Warhawk staggered forwards and almost face-planted in the ridge that it had been climbing during the duel with the Kingfisher. Ace could practically see the dilemma: keep taking fire on the rear as Michel withdrew to cool at least briefly behind cover, or turn and fight, with frontal armor that was no better.
Both were near certain defeat, so Ace’s comrade made the only decision that made any sense at all: he wheeled and hammered the Dire Wolf with everything he had, the shots concentrating on the blunt prow that contained the assault ‘mech’s cockpit.
With luck, the shots could have killed the mechwarrior inside - or rattled him enough for another salvo. But luck was not with Michel and the Dire Wolf fired again. Not with everything that it had - the massive firepower of a Dire Wolf generated far more heat than could be dissipated. But the four extended range lasers that had been held back from the earlier salvo were more than enough to slice through exposed joints like knives through butter.
The Warhawk fell, arms and legs nearly severed. Helpless prey, Michel hadn’t even managed to eject.
Ace flared his jump jets again, just enough to stabilize himself, and his PPCs erupted as he dropped into effective range at last.
The Smoke Jaguar wasn’t caught entirely off guard - the massive omnimech side-stepped and then raised its left arm at the last minute, the mechwarrior inside having correctly determined that Ace had predicted the attempt to dodge. Both bolts hammered into the upraised limb, blasting away layer after layer of protection.
But shots that would have cored out a smaller ‘mech failed even to penetrate the armor of the Smoke JAguar Dire Wolf and as Ace prepared to land, it turned and opened fire on him with autocannon and missiles.
The timing was good, Ace needed to use his jump jets to slow his fall and dodging would compromise that. He diverted just enough to side-slip into one of the slopes of the gully and avoided the worst of the autocannon fire, leaving the LRMs to his anti-missile system. The Huntsman hit hard and it slid down the hill, Ace seeing warning lights from the legs as he let the slide absorb the force that he hadn’t been able to entirely counter with his jump jets.
“Ace Enders!” a voice he had heard before - that every member of every Clan had probably heard at least once - greeted him as the Dire Wolf strode up onto the top of the ridge, looking down on the much smaller Huntsman. “Only you would be so bold!”
Ace flung his ‘mech aside, firing back with one PPC as a hail of fire chased after him. “Khan Showers. Or have you been deposed by your Clan? News travels so slowly with most of the HPGs unavailable.”
His shot smashed a divot into the armored cowl above the Dire Wolf’s cockpit. Most of the former ilKhan’s shots missed but half of his pulse lasers struck home and did about as much damage as Ace’s shot. Of course, the Huntsman had far less armor - it could absorb the hits for now but not for anything like as long.
“The Smoke Jaguars are mine. When I reclaim my throne, they will be ilClan!”
A flare of jump-jets took Ace over most of Shower’s next salvo, all but a large laser that carved heavily into the armor just below his cockpit. The khan might love the sound of his own voice, but he wasn’t incompetent in the cockpit.
Ace answered with both his PPCs this time and the Khan blocked shots aimed for armor weakened by Michel’s last volley with the Dire Wolf’s right arm. Again, the armor took the punishment.
“Sir, orders?” called Thomas, as Ace saw the rest of the star moving in.
“Take out the rest of his Star!” Ace ordered. Three fresh assault ‘mechs had a good chance of wrecking Omega’s already damaged ‘mechs but two Phoenix Hawks and two Vapor Eagles should be able to deal with them.
Leo Showers saw the star scattering and knew what it meant. He steadied himself for better aim and used just the left arm to fire on Ace.
Just one arm’s weapons on a Dire Wolf was more firepower than most medium ‘mechs. Two large lasers and two medium, carved slashes across the Huntsman’s legs and perforated the armor below the right shoulder with laser pulses. The autocannon stream splattered high explosive rounds all across the front, coming dangerously close to the scar left by the previous laser shot.
Ace’s return shot from his right arm PPC intersected with the exposed ammunition feeds for the autocannon. Rounds detonated as they were fed towards the firing chamber of the weapon, then sympathetic explosions ripped the limb back to the cylindrical bin that they had come from.
The arm was a useless wreck and Showers twisted to bring the other to bear, but the limb had no more armor than the other and Ace had reserved his left arm’s PPC for this. His shot smashed into the inside of the shoulder before the weapons could come to bear and severed it.
More than twenty-five tons of weapons and support systems parted ways from the Dire Wolf and not even Leo Shower’s skill could overcome that - the assault ‘mech tipped left, drawn by the dead weight of its remaining arm, and hit the floor a moment after the severed limb did.
With deliberate malice, Ace strode the Huntsman up and delivered a kick to the shoulder-mounted missile launcher that was the Dire Wolf’s last weapon system. The launcher crumpled and Showers’s attempt to right his mech was foiled.
Ignoring the toothless cursing, Ace opened the command channel. “Galaxy Commander Nagasawa, this is Galaxy Commander Enders.”
A face appeared on his comm screen, one well known to him. “Sir.” Kevin Nagasawa had led a cluster in Alpha Galaxy before being promoted to replace Seth Margyar in command of Omega, so they were acquainted. “I relinquish command to you.”
“Neg,” Ace disagreed. He would have had that right even without Sennet’s warrant to override the others, as the senior of the two. “Omega has held the line for months against two of the Smoke Jackals’ best. This is your victory and I will not taint it. Today my command cluster will serve under yours.”
There was relief on Nagasawa’s face. “You do me honor. And the rest of your galaxy.”
The rest of Epsilon Galaxy was maintaining the pretense that the Combine border was guarded by a pair of frontline galaxies, but this wasn’t the time to explain that the rest of the dropships Ace had brought with him were carrying garrison warriors and raw cadets, equipped with whatever he could scrape up from the factories on New Samarkand and Luthien. Worse, they had never fought together before today so their cohesion would be terrible.
“The rest of my force will land in range of the Jaguar dropships. Your last report was that the remains of their Delta Galaxy was guarding the LZ.”
“Aff. Showers drew them down to replenish Beta for this attack.”
“Replenishment for losses you and yours inflicted,” Ace expanded. “I told you, this is the Bloodscent’s victory. My warriors are clearing a perimeter around our drop zone and I await your command.”
“Hold your position,” the other galaxy commander ordered. “I will lead a counterattack: you play anvil while we provide the hammer.”
Ace nodded, hoping the gesture was visible via the camera . “Bargained well and done, Kevin.”
Then he turned his attention back to the Dire Wolf. “I confess, Showers, I do not understand your strategy. You must be aware that the Inner Sphere is pushing your warriors back towards Alshain, but you have been wasting troops here against us?”
The Khan’s reply carried less of his earlier hubris. “Vinton is gone, Huntress will also fall soon. The factories here, on Luthien and on Pesht could supply my Clan. The equation is simple.”
“I do not think much of your math,” Ace admitted.
Showers snorted. “Your khan would understand. When you take her place, you will need to as well. As your bondsman, I can teach you how to be a Khan.”
“I do not think much of that either.” Ace backed up his Huntsman and fired his ER PPCs steadily into the torso until he had penetrated the thick armor and wrecked the gyro. Then he turned in the direction he had sent his star. “I do not want you as a bondsman. When this battle is over, if you are still alive, I will send you back to your Clan. I imagine that they will find some suitable way to reward you for this debacle.”
“You cannot do this! I am Leo Showers!”
Ace nodded - only to himself. He did not care to share video communications with the fallen ilKhan. “Arrogance and stupidity. Truly you represent your Clan well.”
Once the battle was won, and clean-up was begun, it proved unnecessary to go to the trouble of delivering Leo Showers back to the Smoke Jaguars. His clan would probably have little use for one more dead warrior, having something of surplus of them at the moment.
-
Ace continues to add to his legend! :)
-
''I am Leo Showers!''
''I'd fart in your general direction, but I guess you have already been high on your own buttfumes for at least a decade.''
Enders talk with Nagasawa reminds me of Wellingtons' remark at the battle of San Marciel
"As he has already won his victory, he should keep the honour of it for his countrymen alone."
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At this point, you might as well call Ace "Khanslayer" given how many he has personally taken out.
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One more until he is Ace of Khans.
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He'll at least have Nagasawa's vote when it comes time... ;)
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It is starting to feel like the Smoke Jaguars Khans are all in a competition to see who can have the most dishonorable ignoble death.
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It is starting to feel like the Smoke Jaguars Khans are all in a competition to see who can have the most dishonorable ignoble death.
Lincoln Osis "I lost the plot."
Edmond Hoyt "I lost the battle of Camlann."
Sarah Weaver "I lost Huntress."
Leo Showers "HOLD. MY. BEER!"
-
And knowing the Smoke Jaguars, it wasn't even good beer or mediocre beer. It'd be Hell's Horses Brian Cache stale beer from the Reunification War overstock.
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Stale beer from a cache would likely still be an improvement compared to what Jags make/made, at least according to Tyra.
-
Opalescent Reflections
Full House
Chapter 14
Imperial City, Irurzun
Benjamin Military District, Draconis Combine
19 September 3058
“General Asano has failed us,” Li Dok To declared flatly. “And Avellar has outright betrayed us.”
“In diplomacy, as in war, victory cannot simply be commanded.” Boris Petrov’s reaction to the news was more moderate. “The prospect of neutralizing an entire clan gave Steiner-Davion a potent weapon in the discussions. How much of a hand do you think he had in the matter, Director?”
Ninyu Indrahar did not bother to consult the notes. “The prince played no direct role in negotiations with the Nova Cats, but it is believed that his conduct when fighting them on Incukalns shaped perceptions. On Terra, he appears to have been more informed than Marshal Hasek-Davion and took the lead in using the information to convince the Star League’s staff. His file is being updated to reflect greater diplomatic acuity than we had previously assessed.”
The Warlord of Benjamin nodded. “And that was not his only tool. They only asked for a third of the reserves where we were looking for half. That means a stronger strike against Clan Wolf, which got support back from those backing Rasalhague.”
“Perhaps, but leaving him in place is still tolerance for failure,” Li Dok To grumbled.
“He has mitigated the matter somewhat,” Minoru observed, careful not to sound as if he was taking a stance at that some point. “Have you seen the latest report?”
The Warlord of Galedon tilted his head. “Which one?”
Minoru sat back slightly. “Let us hear it directly from him.” He had preset the recording of the general’s report from negotiations with the other nation’s representatives, so it was the press of a button to bring up the holo display.
Asano’s head and shoulders appeared above the desk. “In light of the reduced risk of attack on the Outworlds Alliance, I have taken the liberty of enquiring if the full strength of Task Force Opal is required to maintain their security. Marshal Hasek-Davion was amenable to detaching the First Federated Commonwealth RCT as long as the Fifth Sword of Light was also withdrawn, ensuring a balance of influence over the Alliance. I have reason to believe that Warrior House Ijori can also be detached to aid in the security of Galedon District. Senior Maurice Avellar has also indicated that one of the Alliance Air Wings might be available even for offensive operations. I have yet to receive confirmation from the Free Worlds League representatives regarding the Second Free Worlds Legion and there is little chance at this time of support from the other periphery realms or ComStar.”
Minoru cut the recording off and looked over at Li Dok To. “Your thoughts?”
The warlord frowned in thought. “A FedCom RCT and a Warrior House would let us free up more forces for the push on Galedon,” he conceded. “The other Ghost Regiment could be assigned to the mission if we replace it with the Feddies. And I cannot overstate the value of Outworlder fighters given the DCA’s ongoing problems.”
“Is it your recommendation that I instruct our ambassador to pursue that as a commitment?” he asked. The ISF’s report on Avellar’s commitment to continue Diamond Shark infrastructure work had also made it clear that it would be a financial strain for the weak government of the Alliance. Contributing some of what was needed would not have any direct military impact and as long as the high command supported it, there wasn’t much political risk to the offer.
“Yes, tono.” Li Dok To dipped his head. “May I assume that Operation Tanto is approved?”
“There is only a limited window of opportunity before the Diamond Sharks rebuild their losses,” Daniel Sorenson warned, drawing a glare from Li Dok To. “The risks are calculated on facing one of the two frontline galaxies that are reported along the border,” he continued. “The addition of the forces withdrawn from the Outworlds is offset by the reinforcements we have just discussed, but if the Diamond Sharks rebuild it will be challenging. I recommend the attack be carried out as soon as possible.”
Minoru pursed his lips and looked at Petrov, who nodded in agreement. “I assume you are ready, Li Dok To?”
“We could begin as soon as an HPG message arrives,” the old soldier declared. “However, it will take a few weeks for the Fifth Sword of Light to arrive. I recommend acting at that point, even if the other forces are not in position yet.”
“Including sending in the Twelfth Ghost Regiment before the First FedCom arrived?” the Coordinator asked.
“The risk is not extreme,” Li Dok To agreed.
“Very well.” Minoru drew out a pre-prepared document and his personal seal. A moment later he handed the stamped orders to the Warlord of Galedon. “Take back your district capital. And avenge our past defeats.”
“We shall not fail you.” All three warlords saluted him formally as the Li Dok To spoke.
“I am sure that you will not.” The young ruler considered the tales he had heard from his father and grandfather of the ambitions and conflicts of previous warlords. Takashi had been forced to balance many interests in the cause of rebuilding the prestige of the Coordinator following two generations of misrule. Even after he replaced the warlords inherited from his father one by one, the replacements had by necessity been selected for the ability to scheme against their predecessors or unthinking loyalty, allowing them to be pitted against each other. He had been very fortunate to be dealing with a new generation selected after the traumas of the Fourth Succession War and the victory in 3039.
“As to General Asano, I do not think we have a better replacement at this time. As he recognises his failure and has worked to mitigate it, no action is needed. This is not the case of officers who were defeated by the Clans and refused to learn the lessons needed to counter them.”
“The dragon is wise,” the last man in the chamber murmured.
“If you say that too often, uncle, I may fall into the error of assuming that,” Minoru chided mildly.
That got a chortle from the rotund Chandrasekhar Kurita. “I shall strive to be more critical, tono.”
Daniel Sorenson also chuckled, while the older warlords simply shook their head at the eccentric business magnate. “Our next matter concerns you, sir Kurita,” Sorenson noted. “Production numbers for military equipment.”
Tucking his hands back into his sleeves, the bald man smiled with something of an edge. “The numbers are good, in some areas too good.”
“I am not sure how improved production can be too good, given our losses over the last few years,” the Coordinator said. “However, I assume you are about to explain this.”
“Given permission,” Chandrasekhar agreed amiably and then paused until Minoru pointedly beckoned for him to speak. “In general, yes, it is good that manufacturing is up. Allowing for continued imports at the current level, we have now met all the thresholds necessary to bring the DCMS’ line regiments up to strength with a sufficient reserve to replace projected losses from current operations.”
“At what level of losses?” asked Petrov. “There are several projections.”
Minoru’s functional Minister of Trade (there was no such ministry, but his uncle was much more helpful than the Treasury) positively twinkled. “The second worst.”
“Near catastrophic losses of the forces committed?”
“As opposed to actually catastrophic,” Chandrasekhar agreed. “It would take a while to distribute them, and additional production over that time is factored in. But my understanding is that we are now building battlemechs faster than mechwarriors are being trained. Alas, we cannot solve that problem with more factories.”
“Academy classes are being expanded,” Li Dok To told him. “But how is production considered too high.”
“Because it is high enough now that we have no real justification not to start meeting certain long-term commitments, such as replacing ‘mechs lost by the mechwarriors drafted into the Dragon’s Teeth.”
“Ah,” Minoru observed in sudden understanding. Many of the actual mechwarriors involved had died, but their families mostly still existed and having lost their ‘mechs in the cause of the Dragon, they were entitled to replacements of similar value.
Some of the mechwarriors had received replacements and lost those as well, given the attrition faced by the Dragon’s Teeth regiments. Having been recruited very nearly at gunpoint largely on the basis that they were a threat to the stability to the realm, the prospect of re-arming the retainers of the more vocal of the allegedly loyal opposition did not appeal to Minoru, but failing to do so would be immensely damaging.
“I suppose that we have no choice,” he allowed. “I take it that we can be at least somewhat selective in what they receive?”
“Fortunately the cost of advanced battlemechs means that most of them will be faced with the choice of either paying towards the difference in value or of accepting smaller - or less capable - machines,” Chandrasekhar agreed. “I recommend a systematic phasing out of certain less common designs from the DCMS’ roster to ease logistics - salvaged ‘mechs obtained from the Federated Commonwealth, for example. We have reasonable access to replacement parts under the current circumstances, so a through refit would allow them to be offered as comparable to our own designs.”
“That won’t be that popular,” warned Petrov. “These families are generally conservative and greatly prefer designs associated with the Combine.”
“There are relatively few such designs in the price brackets that they are used to. Lightweight engines alone greatly affect the costs.” The portly Kurita spread his hands. “The Daimyo is one exception, but that is in considerable demand - to the point we are working to develop new production lines. And Cosby Engineering is promising a much more affordable version of the Tora, with a smaller but less vulnerable reactor.”
“I doubt that will be in demand either, given it’s combat record,” snorted Li Dok To.
“It is closely associated with the Dragon’s Teeth.” Minoru considered the matter. “As an improved model over the original, that may be politically acceptable. The problems have been fixed?”
His uncle nodded firmly. “Procurement tested several prototypes to destruction. The ‘mech is slower than the previous version but we are sure the ammunition detonations will be properly contained… and the armor around the bins has been improved as well.”
Minoru smiled thinly. “Given its reputation with the DCMS, earmark the first production run of Toras for fulfilling our debts to families who lost their ‘mechs in our service. If it proves to be a more capable design now, then it will rebuild its reputation without any need for intervention on our part. Families who want to pay more for something more impressive can do so, but only after the immediate needs of the DCMS are satisfied.” He thought of his father-in-law’s Battlemaster, lost on Luthien. “If their mech was originally more valuable than a new Tora then we can look at older ‘mechs, with upgrades if need be. Refit kits being installed as part of a reconditioning shouldn’t be too much of a strain on our maintenance and upgrade programme, I believe?”
Camora, Twycross
Clan Jade Falcon Occupation Zone
27 September 3058
The council chamber on Twycross had been constructed on Crichell’s orders but it had rarely been used. Assembling the entire Clan Council in person would have been inconvenient, and even by HPG it would have been both expensive and a security issue. Aidan had a suspicion that Crichell exaggerated that issue simply because it freed him to govern the Clan without having to account to the Clan Council too often.
Today, a meeting was absolutely required and - of course - the loss of ComStar HPGs made it crushingly difficult. Assembling a quorum had required hastily sending jumpships to bring as many warriors as possible into reach of one of the relatively few HPG links between Twycross and the forces along the border. As it was, they had only barely reached the quorum and quite a number of the bloodnamed warriors would probably complain that they had not had the chance to participate or to even appoint a proxy.
“We are gathered here to elect a new Khan, following the death of Elias Crichell,” Aidan intoned formally.
He was somewhat pleased to have managed to get that far before the inevitable interruption. “How did the Khan die?” Evak Mattlov called out. “The summons said nothing about it.”
“Khan Crichell suffered a fatal injury during his annual requalification,” he answered, straight facedly. It was true, after all. “His cockpit took a direct hit and he expired before he could reach medical facilities.”
“How could our Khan die so easily!”
He died because he did not expect anyone to actually shoot at him, Aidan thought to himself. He had had the chance to observe Crichell’s trial of position the previous year and it had been a travesty: the mechwarriors facing him had ejected to give him the win. “It must be remembered that Khan Crichell was approaching seventy years of age,” he said instead, stretching the truth slightly - the man had been sixty-six. “He had also recently adopted a new omnimech and been less familiar with its idiosyncrasies than warriors who have the opportunity to train regularly.”
Angelina Mattlov stood. “The BattleROMs of the trial are available quiaff?” she demanded.
“Aff,” Aidan assured the galaxy commander, “I refrained from details in the summons simply because of the slightly ignominious circumstances, but every member of this council is naturally welcome to review the records.”
“And who slew the Khan?” someone called.
Before Aidan could answer, his daughter did. “The fatal shot was fired by Star Captain Joanna of the Gyrfalcon Guards,” Diana Pryde declared, cheerfully throwing the older warrior to the wolves. “I happened to be the next scheduled opponent so I stand as witness to the events.”
Evak Mattlov snorted. “Our saKhan’s old friend kills the senior Khan and his unnatural offspring testifies to it? This sounds suspicious, quiaff?”
Aidan snorted. “Have you met Star Captain Joanna? While she is a reliable officer, she would hardly call herself my friend. And the term is natural offspring, by the way. Strictly speaking, the Iron Wombs are ‘unnatural’ in the same way as any other technology.”
“Inferior then,” the Star Colonel spat. “It does not change the likelihood of conspiracy. Joanna was the one who helped to conspire to grant you your infamous second trial of position. Why would she be trusted as an adversary for Khan Crichell?”
“The Gyrfalcon Galaxy has been held back from the frontlines for the last few years,” Aidan explained reasonably. “Aside from recent expeditions to deal with ComStar enclaves, we have seen little action. Star Captain Joanna happened not to be part of any bid for those actions as some of the more recently graduated warriors bid aggressively for their chance at action.”
As he looked around, Aidan could see a few faces that betrayed obvious doubts… perhaps they were inclined to distrust him, or perhaps they knew Crichell well enough to know he would likely have not arranged a trial of position for himself that involved someone as ornery as Joanna.
Which he had not, of course. Aidan had switched the assignments at the last minute. Only Horse had known that they were facing the Khan, and the Khan had known only that he was facing omnimechs of the models he expected. “Would you like to review the data now?” he asked.
“Show us,” agreed Mattlov. The galaxy commander looked around the room (from her limited perspective of being in a holo tank two hundred light years away from Twycross). “It is better to settle all the doubters.”
“Very well. Loremaster?”
Kael Pershaw undoubtedly had his suspicions, but suspicions were not proof and he called up the data recovered from the black box of the Khan’s Turkina, as well as that of his first opponent.
The displays hung in the air, familiar to every mechwarrior present and at least easy for the non-mechwarriors to interpret. From Crichell’s perspective, he marched towards a Mad Dog, a Hellbringer and a Black Lanner. Joanna, for her part, was left watching the Turkina, easily twice her ‘mech’s size, stamp into the proving grounds. Aidan knew that most of those present would see the stiffness in the assault ‘mech’s movements and compare it to the fluidity being shown by the Mad Dog. Crichell was out of practice, and it showed.
Both cockpits received the same signal to begin the trial and Crichell’s hands didn’t move on the controls in the slightest, while Joanna’s brought the weapons to bear almost instantly. Her first shots were fired as the Mad Dog took its first steps to try to avoid return fire…
But there was no return fire. Her large lasers both hit home, below the cockpit and then raked upwards. On Crichell’s display, the damage reports were just beginning to appear on the displays when the beams breached the armor glass in front of the Khan. Telemetry from the cockpit itself cut out, but the displays showed the pilot’s medical data flicker crimson and then black.
Joanna didn’t stumble, but the sight of her target collapsing was enough that she ceased fire and a moment later, the trial was cut short. An emergency vehicle was racing into view when the footage ended.
There was an uncomfortable silence from the Clan Council. Anyone who was honest could tell that it had been an honest accident caused by a severe mismatch in the abilities of the combatants. Faced with a much larger and more dangerous ‘mech, for Joanna not to act immediately would have been foolish. And the Khan… had not performed as well.
“As loremaster, I have investigated the situation and there is no evidence of foul play. Khan Crichell’s ‘mech has been checked and there was no tampering. He simply underperformed,” Pershaw reported drily. “To return to the purpose of this meeting, our Clan is currently in need of a new Khan. Do I hear nominations?”
Evak Mattlov stood. “I nominate Angelina Mattlov, as our most experienced Galaxy Commander.”
Taman Malthus also took to his feet, the elemental having secured his own bloodname recently. “I nominate our current saKhan, Aidan Pryde, as he is most familiar with our Clan’s needs at this time.”
Aidan held up his hand. “I thank you for the nomination, Star Captain. However, I do not pursue further elevation at this time. I am content to support whoever is elected as their saKhan.”
That got several surprised looks from around the room. Ambition for advancement could generally be assumed among the Clans. Aidan would have been lying if he lacked it, but if he took the post now then suspicions that he had a hand in Crichell’s death would be inflamed. Besides, he thought that both the other likely candidates were of a like mind to him on the most important point: the time to take action before the Federated Commonwealth attacked them was running out.
Samantha Clees was nominated a moment later, the leader of the remaining frontline galaxy. While there was no requirement to only select from galaxy commanders, the need to have some high level command experience had sunk in and no further names were put forward.
“Jade Falcons!” Mattlov called out. “You know what I stand for. Crichell spoke of preparations but we have waited for too long. He spoke of taking Tharkad, but it has been years since he left Twycross! He desired the ilKhan’s throne, but he dreamed of being handed it when there was no other candidate. This is not how a Jade Falcon should think! We will take Tharkad, we will take Terra and we will be the ilClan. And we will start now, not at some ‘proper time’! The time is now because we say it is time!”
Cheers went up and Aidan saw Samantha Clees scowling. Not because she disagreed but because what did she say now without sounding as if she was copying her rival.
“Trothkin,” she declared. “These are the darkest days of the Clans. The Steel Vipers have been hammered down, the Nova Cats are lost in their visions. The Wolves and the Diamond Sharks have raised maelstroms of conflict where there should be unity. But among the Clans there is one light that can lead them all back to the proper path. That light is Clan Jade Falcon. We must lead them, we must show them the honor road. As the Great Father declared after Elizabeth Hazen purged mutineers from the Exodus Fleet: our shining moral character will be our shield!”
There were cheers at that, but the enthusiasm was building on Mattlov’s words, not building a counter-current. Pershaw called the vote and warrior after warrior named the Khan they wanted, the one who spoke of concrete actions not of high principles.
The image of Angelina Mattlov moved from the ranks of the bloodnamed to join Aidan on the stage. “My khan,” he acknowledged her ascension.
“SaKhan,” she replied, affirming in that word that she had no intention of trying to remove him in favor of one of her supporters. “We have much to do and little time. The Gyrfalcons ready to join us on the frontlines, quiaff?”
“More than ready.”
“Many details will need to be decided, but plan on escorting the supplies we need from Twycross to join me on Arc-Royal,” she ordered. “From there, we will launch our campaign for Tharkad!”
-
Loveless Valley, Melissia
Clan Nova Cat Occupation Zone
3 October 3058
The Nova Cats had based themselves on a world whose name was almost the same as Victor’s mother. It felt right, because he was fighting as her champion today. Dozens of worlds and thousand of millions of Lyran citizens were depending on him.
Lives are the currency the Commonwealth pays for our mistakes, she had told him once. Spend them wisely.
Burning ‘mechs and tanks littered the river valley, and Victor knew that if only one in ten of those crewing them were dead then he would be lucky. Lives spent… and he had to make them count for something.
The Broad Run River was exactly what it sounded like: a wide, deep river that divided the valley in two. The Nova Cats had defined the circle of equals for the trial such that the Broad Run divided it in two - and that the major bridges were just beyond the edges, both up and downstream. Then they’d demolished every other bridge inside that circle.
More shots were slashing through the air above the river. The Clans’s weapons generally had more range than their Inner Sphere counterparts - and there was little cover on either side of the river.
Victor had tried to counter that with the artillery battalions of the Tenth Lyran Guards and the First Avalon Hussars, which made fixed firing positions for the Nova Cats suicidal. Unfortunately it also revealed the guns locations to the Clanners, and while they didn’t artillery of their own, they did have an edge in aerospace numbers.
Covering artillery with anti-aircraft guns such as Partisan tanks, JagerMechs and Rifleman ‘mechs took those same long range weapons out of play along the river, which increased the Nova Cat’s advantage.
While he took some consolation that the Cats weren’t winning, Victor knew they weren’t losing either. Probing and skirmishes showed that they had mobile field bases near the back of the circle of equals - beyond easy reach of artillery. The one time recon fighters had located a base in range, they had been mostly gone before artillery got close enough to the river to engage it - and the air spotting had cost Raymond’s Armored Infantry almost an entire squadron of interceptors.
“All forces ready,” Galen reported. He was acting as liaison between Victor and the Lyran Guards, “Wish us luck.”
Victor ran his sensors across the far bank of the river. The Nova Cats knew that they were coming - they had the better part of an Assault Cluster massing and reports showed more trinaries streaming towards the river as fast as they could move. Which, for Clan ‘mechs, was very fast indeed.
“All units,” he ordered flatly. “Commence the assault.”
Maps from before the fall of Melissia to the Nova Cats had shown the best places for Victor’s only real option to get across, but he had to assume the Cats had access to the same maps. The better part of two hundred ‘mechs, including almost every medium and light ‘mech in all three commands, moved on Victor’s order, rushing to get into the river before they were cut to ribbons by fire from the Nova Cats.
Smoke rounds began to burst in the air above the water and Victor fought the urge to take his Warhammer forward to join other slower and heavier ‘mechs that were providing covering fire. He had to keep his eyes on the whole attack, not get overly focused on just one part.
Galen’s Hatchetman was among those rushing into the waters. It would be difficult to keep the myomers hot in the water, but while they were it would be able to move faster than Victor’s Warhammer. Kai’s Conjurer was near the front of the St Ives forces and it needed no advanced myomers to exceed even Galen’s speed.
Battlemechs were designed to manage amphibious operation - their cockpits were sealed and their reactors could keep them operating without the need for air. That didn’t make the attempt safe though - the ‘mechs would be slowed by the water, stumbling across an uneven surface they would barely be able to see, buffeted by the current… and any breach in their armor would let water in and cripple key components.
Already ‘mechs were falling out of line as hits from Nova Cat fire smashed through their relatively thin armor. A mech with an open torso had no business even trying to enter the river’s waters - their reactors would be wrecked. Leg hit’s were just about as bad.
“Fire for effect on the far side,” Victor ordered. The Nova Cat assault clusters were made up of heavy and assault machines that could survive multiple barrages, but even a near miss from an artillery shell could shake up their aim. They had been deploying a new heavy omnimech in both clusters, the Spirit Cat, and almost every configuration seemed suited to fight under these conditions: extended range lasers, long range missiles, extended range PPCs.
Shells began to fall across the rivers and the explosions illuminated more and more Nova Cat omnimechs arriving, elementals hopping off them to dig into whatever cover they could find or dig. Artillery shells would massacre the battle armor in the open, but the Clanners had learned to dig fox holes for their elementals.
The St Ives and FedCom ‘mechs were wading into the water now, slowed to a relative crawl but not yet under the surface where weapons would find it difficult be brought to bear on them - missiles would detonate against the water unless they were specialist torpedoes and direct fire weapons would be deflected and slowed.
A Hatchetman exploded into a fireball as LRM salvos homed in on it and ripped the upper half of the ‘mech to shreds. A Hippogriff died less spectacularly, falling face-first with a splash as energy weapons gutted its gyro. The mechwarrior would have to wait for rescue in their cockpit or swim for their life in the middle of the battle if that wasn’t feasible.
Lighter ‘mechs were taking even more of a beating - Valkyries, Wolfhounds and Commandos were torn apart before Victor’s eyes. A Hollander trying to give covering fire with its Gauss Rifle was torn in two as a Warhawk caught it with all four of its PPCs.
Victor’s hands were tight on his controls, his breathing heavy. But there was nothing he could do - not yet.
And it was working - for every ‘mech that was destroyed, another slipped into the temporary shelter of the Broad Run. Then two for every fallen. Three, four…
More mechs were engulfed in the water now than stood above it. It was cutting the firepower that could be aimed at the Nova Cats, but now the banks were clear and Victor called forwards the heavy tanks. With room to fire now that the ‘mechs were descending out of view, scores of Manticore, Bulldog and Brutus tanks were able to hammer away at the other side of the river.
Victor saw the distinctive silver-blue explosion of a ‘mech suffering a reactor containment failure on the far side of the Broad Run as the massed volleys of tank fire crashed out. Most of them were firing blindly through the smoke but as the Nova Cats bunched up to repel the coming assault, there were too many targets for shots not to hit some of them.
As the last cockpits vanished beneath the murky water, Victor snapped himself out of the near reverie. “Pull back,” he ordered the tank regiments and watched from the relative safety of being half a kilometer from the river as the heavy tracked vehicles crawled back out of range - leaving the burning wrecks of those the Nova Cats had switched fire to behind them.
There was a moment of eerie silence - the battle was not over but for now there was nothing either side could do.
Watching the river, the young kommandant-general prayed that the sappers he’d sent in the previous night were right and that there was no minefield. If there were, the silence would be broken soon by water spouting up and he’d have to cover a withdrawal under fire that would further gut his force.
Almost a full battalion of ‘mechs had been destroyed entering the Broad Run, and at least as many tanks covering them. Withdrawal would be far worse, too many ‘mechs having to expose their weaker rear armor as they climbed out of the river. And there would be more Nova Cats, it looked like half of Alpha Galaxy was there.
The surface of the water showed little sign of the metal titans that were marching across the riverbed. The occasional ripple, a trail of bubbles, sometimes traces of oil and coolant floating to the surface from damaged ‘mechs. Enough to guess at the progress being made but not enough to be certain.
Victor forced himself to take a wider view, listening to updates on units lost and the recovery of wounded soldiers and machines that had managed to leave the battlefield. Despite the momentary lull, he doubted the Nova Cats would let recovery teams move in unmolested, and while waiting would hardly cause more problems for the damaged tanks…
A Bulldog wreck exploded as fires reached its fuel tanks, giving a lie to that thought.
Soldiers might be in desperate need of medical attention out there, Victor thought grimly.
Looking back at the river, he magnified the view to the point he could see the trace signs of movement again. Infrared was worthless for looking at something under cold moving water, seismics were overwhelmed by the water and with so many ‘mechs and other hardware on either side of the river, magnetics were also useless. Which was some good, since it meant the Nova Cats would also be unable to see them.
One particularly large patch of bubbles caught Victor’s attention and he reduced the zoom to check how far the force had gone. His brow furrowed as he saw the result - that was still very close to the south bank.
Combing the river for more he saw more bubbles drift into view. Drift, not reach the surface. Carried by the current from further upstream.
A sudden dreadful thought crossed Victor’s mind and he turned his Warhammer to look further upstream. Bubbles, more of them. And they were well above the crossing point being used.
His eyes snapped across the river to look at the opposition there. Two Assault Clusters, half of Alpha Galaxy. But where were the other half, the two Nova Cat Guard Clusters? They had lighter, faster mechs. They should have arrived by now!
“Hussars!” Victor roared on the general channel. “All units, left face! Prepare to receive an amphibious assault!”
If he was wrong, he was going to look like an utter idiot, but if he was right… Victor kicked his Warhammer into motion, mind agog with visions of the assault force scrambling up the north bank and finding their backs exposed to Clan ‘mechs in the shallows on the southern side of the river.
He switched to the command channel as ‘mechs began to move. “Colonel Raymond, we haven’t seen any of the Nova Cat Guards - I believe they are trying their own amphibious crossing.”
The St Ives officer didn’t hesitate. “We haven’t seen them either. What are your orders?”
Relieved that he was getting cooperation even without Kai’s presence, Victor didn’t hesitate. “I need you to cover the right flank. I’m chopping your armor back to you, if they are pincering us then you’ll need every bit of firepower.”
“We’re on it, your highness.”
“Kommandant-General Steiner-Davion,” a call came down the command net. “I see the Hussars on the move, which is not the plan.”
Victor bit back a retort. “We have a developing threat to the left flank. Inform Frankenheimer that Colonel Raymond’s heavy tanks are being detached to cover the right in case the same is happening there.”
“What sort of threat? I see nothing,” the other Kommandant-General protested. Milstein had replaced Kelly Devers at the head of the Tenth after she was tapped for command of an operational area. Galen said the man had done well during the push on Inarcs, but unfortunately his date of rank made him senior to Victor, even though the prince was the one in command of this mission.
White breakers marked where the heads of ‘mechs were about to break surface out in the river, right where Victor would have wanted to be if he was the one planning to catch the assault force in this trap.
“Frankenheimer,” he snapped, cutting off Milstein’s words, “Did you hear me on the tanks?”
Hauptmann-General Thaddeus Frankenheimer was a steadier man, perhaps because the armor branch had less potential for advancement than mechwarriors did. Victor made a mental note to nominate the officer to command of the Tenth anyway if Milstein had to be replaced. “I heard. I assume you want the heavy tanks as a reserve once we have numbers.”
“Correct.”
“Any change to the hover cav?” Four regiments were waiting to cross the river as soon as the mechs reached the north bank - a mix of hover tanks and infantry in hover transports that would be a tremendous force multiplier on the open terrain, but that would be dreadfully vulnerable on their own.
Victor hesitated briefly and then gritted his teeth, feeling the Warhammer’s PPCs charge their capacitors as he brought the triggers to the midpoint. “No change.” It was a roll of the dice.
“The Tenth is under my command,” Milstein protested. “Your highness, the chain of command…”
The first Nova Cat ‘mech surfaced, a Nova that raised its forearms above the water to rake lasers across an approaching Avalon Hussars Centurion. The alpha strike would have baked the Nova under normal circumstances but the flowing water greatly enhanced its cooling - even if the water was bubbling and boiling downstream of it.
The Centurion pilot had flung up his ‘mech’s left arm to shield itself, but that was far from enough against that sort of firepower - the arm disintegrated and the medium ‘mech fell to the ground, chest clawed open.
“Milstein, that chain says that you’re under mine,” Victor snarled and drew a bead on the Nova. “So stop undermining it.” Then he closed his fingers around the triggers and discharged both PPCs into the omnimech.
One bolt crashed into the water just short of the Nova Cat, if it did any damage then Victor saw no sign. The other ripped the mech’s side open though and water flooded in. Unbalanced by the loss of armor and the influx of water, the Nova went over sideways, vanishing in a spray of water and a trail of coolant from ruptured heatsinks.
More Nova Cats were emerging though and they had taken advantage of the cooling effects of the river to load their ‘mechs with payloads of energy weapons that would be suicidal under normal circumstances. The Hussars plunged into a firestorm, their own weapons firing frantically back at the new arrivals.
The Avalon Hussars weren’t a particularly heavy unit which meant that they’d contributed disproportionately to the assault force. That made Matti and Rudi’s Thunderbolts among the lightest ‘mechs present - but it also left less than thirty of them under attack by what seemed to be at least a full cluster.
Outnumbered, they would be torn to shreds if nothing happened to change that.
One part of Victor was looking for options as another focused on tracking a broad-shouldered Spirit Cat emerging from the river and bringing its weapons to bear. Neither of Victor’s PPCs was fully charged but he fired them anyway and added the Streak SRMs above his Warhammer’s right shoulder. Both particle beams bit into the heavy omnimech’s armor without penetrating.and then the six missiles spiraled in to add more damage.
Only slightly staggered, the Spirit Cat’s mechwarrior used the flow of water against his ‘mech’s back to keep from falling over and got his arms aimed at Victor before firing.
The prince braced himself for the impacts but a blocky shape stepped into the path of the shots. Rudi’s Thunderbolt was outlined briefly by the hits before falling over backwards. For a moment, Victor feared the worst but then he heard the mechwarrior cursing.
Firing one PPC into the Spirit Cat, Victor left the other to charge and sprayed his secondary weapons into elementals climbing up the bank.
“Artillery incoming!” Juniper screamed and her Rifleman dropped to one knee, turning to raise its guns.
Shots from the Spirit Cat hit Victor this time despite Matti’s best attempts to disengage from a Shadow Cat and an Ice Ferret that had forced their way up onto the bank, water steaming off them as they fired ferociously.
Spreading the Warhammer’s feet and lowering its center of gravity let Victor keep his balance even as armor across the front of the heavy ‘mech peeled away under that barrage - if Clovis Holstein hadn’t reinforced the protection he would have been left bare as both PPCs and no less than three large lasers struck home.
Victor had time to fire the charged PPC back -
And then the world seemed to end. Explosions wreathed the battlefield, engulfing both sides as artillery hammered down indiscriminately.
Victor’s head slammed hard against the side of the cockpit.
He had a brief impression of Juni screaming defiance as her Rifleman poured fire upwards.
White and brown water burst up from the river as brief balls of fire tore through Victor’s own forces.
A Zeus disintegrated as something bright and fast plowed through the thick armor to detonate inside it.
A Shadow Cat flew through the sky, propelled not by its own jump jets but by the explosive forces that had torn open its cockpit.
Red and black and the silver-blue of a reactor failing -
Victor realized he was over on his back, the Warhammer fallen to the ground. Working the controls frantically, he rolled it over onto its side and tried to use the arm to lift himself upright. This failed and he only realized why when he saw the damage display: the left arm had been severed above the elbow.
The scream of hundreds of engines at a high pitch alerted him to a new change and as he rolled the Warhammer again, seeing new flares on the data display as his armor was eroded by small impacts, he checked the tactical display.
The hover cavalry were pouring across the river, which had to mean that Galen and Kai were going up the north bank.
Using the one good arm, Victor propelled his ‘mech up and onto its feet. Other AFFC mechs were doing likewise, blackened and battered to the point they were barely recognizable.
In the river, the wreckage of Nova Cat ‘mechs lay below the roiling water. Far more intact, but whatever artillery had struck them had only needed to breach armor and knock them down. The Broad Run had done the rest.
“Your highness, pull back!” Milstein cried out. “The enemy artillery is still firing!”
Turning, Victor saw a company of the Lyran Guards moving forward in a line. They were a single uniform design: Swaybacks purchased the Free Worlds League. Milstein had been proud to receive them as replacement for earlier losses, but the techs had been less confident that the pods would remain water-tight so they had been held back from the assault. Now all of them were advancing, weapons raised and aimed at the sky over the river.
“Artillery?” Victor shook his head. Enemy artillery? But the Nova Cats had none… or rather, they had used none. “Hussars!” he yelled, “Withdraw!”
The Nova Cats were crippled and the last thing he needed was to spend more lives unnecessarily.
Less than twenty ‘mechs followed him back towards the Swayback line. As they did so, the omnimechs opened fire, raking the sky with everything at their disposal. Turning, Victor saw twenty bright flares of light arching towards them - seemingly slowly but then faster and faster as they closed. Arrow IV artillery, he realized, and pushed the Warhammer as fast as it would run.
The improvised anti-missile fire caught only one of the artillery missiles in the sky and explosions carpeted the river bank again, smashing craters into the earth and pummeling at the fallen wrecks. The upright shape of a Rifleman, frozen in the position, came apart. With a start of shock, Victor realized that it was Juniper’s ‘mech.
“Rudi?” he asked, half-choking on the name. “Matti?”
There was no reply at first and then a “Aye, suir,” came across the lance channel.
Turning, Victor saw a Thunderbolt stripped of both arms, the sides where they had been mounted shaved away to the point there could be little left of the ‘mech but reactor, gyro, cockpit and legs. The glass of the cockpit was cracked and broken. “Matti?”
The Thunderbolt bobbed slightly and he recognized the sound through the speakers as a sob.
“Rudi?”
“Nae, suir,” she managed.
“This had better be worth it,” Victor grated. Looking across the river, a mass of ‘mechs in the colors of three regiments was swarming up at the Nova Cat’s Assault Clusters. More fire marked that Raymond’s Armored Infantry were facing the same flanking actions downriver - though at least they seemed not to be dealing with artillery.
“Your highness,” Milstein called, his Battlemaster coming into view behind the Swaybacks.
“I hear you,” he replied, forcing himself to be civil. For all his bluster and fluster, the other Kommandant-General had brought his ‘mechs in to aid the Hussars.
“I have a Star Colonel Nostra on the comms,” the officer said hastily. “He wishes to speak to you.”
Victor wondered if it was the same man as the commander on Incukalns. Certainly the cluster was one of those on the other bank. “On the diplomatic channel.” Getting confirmation, he switched to the designated frequency. “Star Colonel, this is Kommandant-General Victor Steiner-Davion.”
“We meet again,” Thaddeus Nostra observed. An explosion marked that he was under fire.
“We do,” Victor agreed, fighting down a surge of anger. “Why are you contacting me?”
“I find myself in command of our forces,” the Star Colonel reported. “And my position is no longer tenable. I offer my surrender.”
“You are in command? What of your Khans?”
“Khan Leroux was killed in action yesterday,” Nostra advised. “And Khan Carns is not responding, we believe him dead or incapacitated in the river.”
Victor closed his eyes. “Many warriors on both sides share that.”
“Your battle is won,” the Nova Cat said more urgently. “Please, let us end this so we may both recover our dead and wounded?”
“...yes,” the prince said quietly. “I accept your surrender.” He switched to a general broadcast. “All forces, this is Steiner-Davion. Ceasefire! I repeat, ceasefire! Clan Nova Cat has yielded, do not fire unless fired upon.”
“A great victory,” Milstein said in the quiet that followed.
“‘Nothing except a battle lost can be half so melancholy as a battle won’,” Victor quoted from one of the generals he had studied during his year at NAIS. “We have a great deal to do, let us be about it.”
-
Crichell got out-intrigued by Aidan, a novel experience for him and a terminal one to boot. Now the Falcons stand poised for the grand assault on Tharkad, not knowing that they passed their window of opportunity. It's going to be brutal and it will most likely fail, with plenty of blame to be passed around, but at least some can be levied at unlamentably deceased Crichell, he dallied too long, wasting the precious opportunity.
Speaking of brutal, the experience of Melissia battle will stay with Victor for a long time, well chosen battlefield and what was at stake, forced him into assault into the teeth of the enemy defence that he would normally have avoided. And it's quite likely that he will be home right in time for Falcon invasion.
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Hell of an update. Maybe I shouldn’t have read the second half before bed. It did do an excellent job of reminding one that even war in the Battletech universe is an awful, bloody affair best avoided.
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How did the Cats manage to sneak two clusters into the water? One at a time? From outside the circle of equals? Hiding on the riverbed all this time?
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Hell of an update. Maybe I shouldn’t have read the second half before bed. It did do an excellent job of reminding one that even war in the Battletech universe is an awful, bloody affair best avoided.
TOO bloody, methinks. Prince Steiner-Davion's unit is now combat ineffective, probably for at least 4 years. 50% losses is not sustainable. Deaths of 90% of the crews of all vehicles knocked out is what we see quoted as a good outcome. Realistically, it should be struck from the list and rebuilt from scratch at a later date, but such is not the way of Battletech.
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Well, that's one less clan to deal with, at least...
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Cats have hard times accoming
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That was brutal. But it did take care of the Cats. That's two Clans out of the invasion force dealt with, one way or another. And with the losses they've taken I doubt the Jaguars are long for this world, either. The repercussions are going to be interesting.
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Three dealt with though not two, right? Smoked Jaguars, Nova Cats, and the Steel Vipers?
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Three dealt with though not two, right? Smoked Jaguars, Nova Cats, and the Steel Vipers?
I think he meant the Cats and Vipers. The Jags are technically still there, just in the process of being meticulously disembowelled.
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TOO bloody, methinks. Prince Steiner-Davion's unit is now combat ineffective, probably for at least 4 years. 50% losses is not sustainable. Deaths of 90% of the crews of all vehicles knocked out is what we see quoted as a good outcome. Realistically, it should be struck from the list and rebuilt from scratch at a later date, but such is not the way of Battletech.
On the other side of the ledger: What I assume is the surrender of an entire Clan? Or at the minimum the majority of Alpha Galaxy. With any luck there will be enough Omnimechs, Elementals and ASFs left to make a pair of ad-hoc abtahka clusters that can then pretty much immediately form the nucleus of the FedCom Nova Cats.
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The Trail was for the 'WHOLE' of the Nova Cats, which they fought a good deal harder then they did in the OTL, but yeah roughly 8.5 Galaxies were added to the AFFC MTOE which if used correctly will add most if not all of the green turkey's OZ to the FedCom (along with what ever industry they set up, logistics(not so much...) ect), while the Turkeys go on their death ride to Tharkad...
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The Trail was for the 'WHOLE' of the Nova Cats, which they fought a good deal harder then they did in the OTL, but yeah roughly 8.5 Galaxies were added to the AFFC MTOE which if used correctly will add most if not all of the green turkey's OZ to the FedCom (along with what ever industry they set up, logistics(not so much...) ect), while the Turkeys go on their death ride to Tharkad...
Oooof. Okay that gives me ideas then. Consolidate the combat-ready Nova Cats into full-strength clusters (say you have about 20 of them left out of 8.5 Galaxies) and then attach them on a two clusters/RCT basis. A full on FedCom RCT with another 90 Nova Cat Omnimechs + attendant Elementals and Omnifighters would roll over any kind of resistance you may find short of a full Galaxy on the other side. Use your RCT as the big hammer formation and the Nova Cat clusters as the mobile units to either screen the RCT or go surat-hunting individual opposing trinaries/supernovas.
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I wonder about the remaining Nova Cats in Homeworlds, once the news reaches the Clans they will be abjured and exterminated. Given how the negotiations went it's possible that Cats started evacuation with whatever transportation assets available months ago and perhaps Commonwealth and Cats will also delay breaking the news, to any Jumpships on the route to reach their worlds and pick up people or material they intend to evacuate. Still many of their warriors will get killed, but given that there is probably already a feeding frenzy over Jaguar and Viper holdings, thus distracting other clans, chances for maximum escapee numbers are good.
-
Opalescent Reflections
Full House
Chapter 15
Wolf’s Den, Liezen
Clan Wolf Occupation Zone
2 October 3058
Dropships were hovering over Liezen’s deserts, mech’s and elementals dropping into the sand as fighters circled above them. They were all painted slate gray, only Zeerga emblems marking them as anything other than Wolves.
That was most likely the point, Ulric thought as he watched. “Get me a count,” he requested.
“Reports are coming in,” Evantha told him. The elemental was clinging to the back of his Gargoyle, along with four other elementals handpicked to provide him with a staff. “There are seventeen cluster-sized drops, exact strength still being identified.”
Ulric frowned, unable to scratch his beard due to the neurohelmet. The last intelligence before the Zeerga left the homeworlds left them with fourteen Clusters: five in each of the frontline galaxies, four in the second-line Omega Galaxy. Three additional clusters…
He had offered safcon, simply to keep the battle under control. The Star Admiral of his own Naval Star was confident of defeating the Zeerga warships, but less so about preventing a bombardment. If it was too hard for Radick to get her forces to grips with him, the possibility existed that she would resort to other means.
The Leviathan transports had some armament and despite - or because of - their ramshackle cargo and passenger facilities, they might be able to absorb massive amounts of firepower without losing mobility. And the Texas-class battleship Nicholas Kerensky had more armor than any other class of warship built by the Star League. Nuclear weapons had been considered, but there was no data on where the Zeerga had placed their genetic repository. If a nuke struck that, the repercussions would be a nightmare. The only precedent was annihilation, even if the circumstances were drastically different.
“It only took them four months to get here,” he said out loud.
There were chuckles of contempt from the Wolves listening to the command net, although honestly it would have been at least five or six weeks before the news of his location had spread across the worlds the Zeerga had been raiding. Then at least that long to regroup and get here… today was a little later than he had estimated but not by very much.
The Wolf forces had responded to those raids, returning to Liezen as quickly as they could when they arrived too late. Not all of his forces were here at the sprawling Kungsarme base Ulric had taken over at his headquarters, but that was alright. That was part of the lure. Any trap needed bait.
“They are down. Slightly over nine hundred ‘mechs, more than fifteen hundred elementals,” Evantha reported.
Ulric wasn’t sure how much of the difference between earlier estimates and the current strength were made up of fresh cadets who had never seen battle and bondsmen taken from Sigma and Theta Galaxies. Most likely Radick and Ward had blooded cadets fresh from the sibko in their earlier attacks.
“Khan Marialle Radick,” he called out on the channel used for the limited negotiations earlier. “Welcome to the Wolf’s Den. This will be our circle of equals.”
“We stand ready,” the woman known as the Death Vixen declared. “Come out and face the warriors you betrayed, Ulric.”
“I see no reason to give up my current tactical advantage,” Ulric answered.
“What sort of Khan cowers behind a fortified base?” challenged Vladimir Ward. One of the elementals traced the signal back to an Adder in the Cluster that was nearest to Ulric’s position, while Radick had an Executioner in the next Cluster over. “You expect a few turrets to protect you from us, quineg?
Ulric chuckled. The Clans rarely fortified a facility. If it was lost in a trial of possession fought outside it, the weapons would do nothing anyway, so it would be a waste. “We stripped the facility of armament after we took it from the Kungsarme,” he reminded them. “Otherwise they would have fallen into the hands of some insurgent. Zeerga may favor open plains but Wolves have dens. Come in and get us… Or wait out there until the supplies in your ‘mechs run out.”
“I should not have expected any honor from you,” Radick snarled.
“And I never expected much intelligence from you. When you bid every warrior you could bring with you, you ceded me the choice of battlefield. You thought I would choose ground that did not favor me, quineg?”
Fortification was an art, and while the Clans did not favor it, Ulric had access to Inner Sphere manuals and warriors trained to appreciate it. According to Phelan and others with academy experience, the Wolf’s Den was well designed. Even with the turrets stripped of their weapons, the walls and bunkers were still intact and would channel attackers into killing zones that could be fired on from sheltered firing positions from multiple angles.
“This will not save you,” the young Khan warned.
“Here they come,” warned Evantha.
Ulric grunted in understanding. The Zeerga formed a rough crescent around two sides of the Wolf’s Den and he didn’t need to see them move in, he could hear them, feel them. The rumble of hundreds of mechs moving was unmistakable. More than one galaxy deploying to a single battle was rare - the point of bidding for trials was to keep battles on this scale from happening. “Tell Phelan that it is time for him to get moving.”
The first shots were fired over the walls of the base - mechs standing on the walls that were shielded from the hips (or sometimes shoulder) down by the mass of ferroconcrete, unleashed salvos into the advancing Zeerga, whose return fire sometimes struck home but more often hit the walls.
Up in the sky contrails marked the efforts of the Zeerga to get above the walls and fire down at the Wolves, only to be intercepted by their Wolf counterparts. That would leak, whoever won in the end, but that was why Ulric had every Naga he could deploy armed with anti-air missiles rather than artillery.
Alpha Galaxy’s fire was reaping a harvest, but they were taking losses. Ulric watched and said nothing, leaving the command of each section of wall to the officers. They could see the ‘mechs and elementals closing in. They knew the ranges and they could see the damage being accumulated on the ferrocrete in front of them. Much like the armor on a ‘mech, the outer wall was intended to ablate attacks - not to withstand them indefinitely.
Before long, the trinaries started to fall back towards the second line of defenses, linking up with the bunkers where their elementals were waiting, along with the two clusters of Beta Galaxy that had returned so far… along with another surprise.
As the first breakthroughs took place, Ulric moved his Gargoyle forwards to join that line.
“My khan,” Evantha warned.
“I need to be there,” he said simply. “We need them focused on me.”
A cluster marked as the Third Zeerga Guards smashed directly through the damaged wall, heavy and assault mechs battering holes with their guns, hammering them wider with their limbs and emerging into the C-shape… and emerging into the open center of the bastion only to find another wall ahead of them,
Shots hammered into them and then the flood of medium and light ‘mechs that followed, carrying the Zeegra elementals. The battle armor jumped free and swarmed forwards to try to reach the Alpha ‘mechs under the covering fire. In response, Wolf Elementals opened up with their SRMs - not enough to kill their Zeerga counterparts but weakening armor and distracting them.
Ulric reached the corner of the firing line and opened up on the elemental force with his autocannon and SRMs. Again, he wasn’t going to inflict many kills, but Elementals with compromised armor or missing limbs would struggle against their counterparts.
At the other corner he saw white-painted tanks doing the same, Wolf’s heads painted over the ComStar badges. Missiles and autocannon swept across them as the Zeerga ‘mechs saw vulnerable targets, but as Omnimechs charged towards the vehicles, lasers and PPCs from the wall crashed into their ranks, the Wolf mechwarriors of Alpha Galaxy keeping their munitions for in reserve until the range was point blank.
When they did open fire with that reserve of firepower, Zeerga numbers were cut in two…
But more of them poured through and now the black and white ‘mechs were trimmed in gold. Radick’s Gold Keshik.
Her Executioner leapt over the choke point and a Gauss Rifle cracked the turret on a Brutus.
“ComGuards?!” she snarled and the assault ‘mech opened up on an SRM Carrier with its lasers, tearing the thin-skinned machine apart.
“Phi Garrison Galaxy,” Ulric replied urbanely on the same channel. “Blake’s Wrath - we have a large number of bondsmen from the ComGuards.” Most of them were not willing to fight for Clan Wolf - but after the Zeerga destroyed a second enclave, smashing through the city to reach the HPG, a compromise had been found. Phi Galaxy would exist only for this battle, survivors repatriated to surviving enclaves when the Wolves won.
If the Zeerga won, then Ulric would not be able to uphold the contract, but that victory would be over Phi Galaxy’s dead bodies so it hardly mattered.
Radick wheeled on him. “Ulric!” she challenged and the Executioner charged towards him, myomer accelerator circuitry activating to send the larger assault ‘mech charging at more than eighty kilometers an hour.
“Evantha! Take over!” he shouted and backed the Gargoyle around the corner before the first salvo from Radick could crash into his armor.
The five Elementals leapt away from him, leaving the two Khans to duel in the narrow corridor between two armored walls.
The close quarters favored neither of the pair of ‘mechs - the towering Executioner was hard to miss at this range and it was equipped with large, slow-cycling weapons intended to reach out and slay targets at long distances. Ulric’s Gargoyle was more compact but its primary armament was SRMs and LB 5-X autocannon, both of which were excellent for targeting vehicles and elementals, but less good against the thick armor of an omnimech. The small laser in the chest was the weapon that did the most pinpoint damage.
Ulric was well used to this though and had his own ways of employing the weapons against ‘mechs. As both mechwarriors tried to use the limited traverse available to them to avoid fire, he focused his crosshairs on the upper body of the Executioner. Volleys of SRMs and cluster munitions blasted against the upper chest and shoulders of the larger assault ‘mech, some of each pattern striking at the skullface and shaking the cockpit behind it.
The taller and wider omnimech had less ability to dodge and Radick would be bounced against her restraints by every impact. No one could take that forever - sooner or later either she or the delicate electronics would suffer for it.
In the meantime, her own gunnery was little less precise. Gargoyles were common enough in the Wolf touman that she must have had a good idea of their strengths and their weaknesses. In this case, it was that the weapons were almost all mounted in the arms.
The Zeerga’s second salvo ripped open the armor across the right arm of the Gargoyle and the second smashed the elbow and the cabling that let Ulric connect to the weapons there.
Raising the arm that held the other half of his arsenal, the graying Khan pointed it like a lance at the Executioner’s cockpit and fired everything, but a sudden impact knocked the arm to the side at the last instant and both missiles and cannon shells astray - engaging her MASC, Radick had closed just close enough to bat at his arm with the muzzle of her gauss rifle.
A second later the Executioner’s twin lasers fired squarely in the center chest of the Gargoyle, cerulean beams of energy shaving away two thirds of the armor plating in instants.
Ulric swept his one remaining arm around, keeping the Gauss Rifle from being brought to bear on the weak spot, but Radick was ready for him and her jump jets flared to life.
Ninety-five tons of battlemech arced up into the air and one massive foot crashed into the compromised armor plating, the knee barely missing the snout of the wolf-like head Ulric had had retrofitted years ago.
“Armor-breach!” the automated system warned. “Reactor damage. Shielding compromised.”
Ulric had been sent staggering, barely keeping the Gargoyle on its feet. He spun the ‘mech through ninety-degrees to cover the damaged chest with the right shoulder as Radick settled her Executioner smoothly onto the ground behind him.
Before he could bring the guns around, the Zeerga ‘mech unleashed everything it had and alarms went off as the right side of the chest was ripped apart.
A new alarm shrilled and he had barely enough time to brace himself before the ejection seat tore the entire head of his ‘mech free, hurling it skyward as the reactor containment failed and superheated air exploded out of the Gargoyle’s chest.
As the Gargoyle’s severed head rocketed up into the sky, Ulric had a brief bird’s eye view of the battlefield. Unlike a normal ejection, he had his sensors with him and the screen in front of him dutifully updated with new data.
He saw the green carets of the Wolf forces in the Den were riven into pockets. Red markers showed Zeerga forces flowing through breaches in the lines, taking flanking shots that winnowed them further, but driving deeper and deeper into the Wolf’s Den.
But they were in stars, binaries and trinaries, most often depleted by casualties and battle damage - not formed clusters of troops. Not, in short, like the fresh forces of Epsilon Galaxy who were moving out of the hangars and barracks they’d been hidden in to avoid being spotted by Zeerga dropships and aerospace fighters. Guided by reports from technicians monitoring the network of redundant sensors that would let the Wolves move confidently through the chaos of what was essentially street-fighting.
And nor were they in the good order of Phelan Ward’s Theta Galaxy, who were flowing out sally ports from tunnels that exited the fort kilometers outside of the obvious perimeter. A position that put them right in the rear of the Zeerga’s rear guard… who were mostly focused on trying to get into the fortifications as fast as they could - fortifications they had compromised to the point they’d be little use in keeping the mass of second-line warriors and Rasalhague volunteers from following them.
Then the cockpit began to descend and Ulric clutched his seat in anticipation of the landing.
As programmed, the thrusters expended their last fuel in the seconds before impact, softening it. It was better than a normal parachute landing but he was flung against the restraints in much the way he would have if his Gargoyle had fallen. Still, he was alive.
Removing his neurohelmet, Ulric disconnected his mechwarrior suit from the plugs that connected coolant lines and medical sensors to the cockpit’s systems. He knew roughly where he was, it shouldn’t be hard to get into a bunker or one of the underground passages. The Wolf’s Den was as much dug into the ground as it was built upon it.
Opening the hatch, Ulric was about to exit when a sixth sense alerted him to throw himself backwards, dragging the canopy closed again. A moment later, machine gun fire hammered into the Gargoyle’s decapitated head and it was all the Khan could do to dog the hatch before the impacts shook it open.
He stared up and saw the towering shape of Marialle Radick’s Executioner, distinctive with the scarred armor around and on the deathshead face, looming over him.
“Khan Ulric,” her voice rang out. “You cannot escape me.”
Reaching down to the comm panel, Ulric activated the loudspeakers. “You have the firepower to have finished me, Khan Radick.” The machine guns had damaged the canopy, but the Executioner’s lasers could have penetrated easily. The gauss rifle would have torn it apart completely. “What do you want?”
Radick laughed cruelly. “I am not offering you your life, Ulric. Just a chance to make amends. Accept defeat and renounce the creation of the Zeerga. As one clan, there is no more need for Wolf to kill Wolf. Do this, and I will not move to reave your bloodright, nor to purge your bloodline.”
“You may not,” he said doubtfully. Radick might not, but Vladimir Ward was likely less forgiving and he must have considerable support to be her saKhan.
“As the winner of this battle, I will not be overruled,” she told him proudly. “I will lead the Wolves to greatness - once you are out of the way. Why mar that for the sake of petty vengeance?”
Where was this foresight when you forced my hand, he wondered. “My radio isn’t powered by a fusion reactor any more,” he warned her. “I will need you to reduce power to your ECM or the signal may not get through.”
Radick’s voice was triumphant. “Understood.” He could hear the background sounds of her adjusting her controls. “You are clear to address our Clan.”
Ulric set his comms to general broadcast. “This is Khan Ulric Kerensky,” he announced clearly. “I hereby transfer command to Galaxy Commander Phelan Ward.”
Marialle Radick screamed in rage and the frequency was drowned in static as she went to maximum jamming. She knew perfectly well what Ulric meant by appointing an abtakha former-mercenary to take over the lead in the battle. It meant no compromise.
Looking up through the cracked glass of his canopy, Ulric saw the foot of her Executioner descending.
“You lose,” he whispered, with his last breath of air.
-
Hilton Head, North America
Terra, Sol System
15 November 3058
Despite the fact she’d never been more than a few light-hours from an active HPG station during her trip to the Outworlds Alliance, Wei had a stack of paperwork waiting for her when she got back to Terra. Some of it was too sensitive to be sent out by HPG when anyone might pick up and decipher the side-scatter at the receiving stations. Some of it just wasn’t considered important enough.
Her staff had done the usual fine job of organizing it into batches of descending urgency, interspersed with less urgent but more interesting material so that she didn’t take a sudden urge to run out of her office, dive into the Atlantic and swim for freedom. (This was probably for the best as Wei didn’t claim to be a strong enough swimmer to reach the mainland, much less the far side of the Atlantic).
“I’m sorry to interrupt,” Serebryakov told her, opening the door to Wei’s working office - which was adjacent to the formal office that lacked the functional shelves of reference material, extra screens and stacks of inboxes and outboxes. “Precentor-Martial Focht asked if you could meet with him.”
“Remotely or in person?” Wei asked, setting down a report on recruitment figures from the Free Worlds League.
“He’s outside.”
She tossed the report back into the inbox. “Send him in.”
The door opened wider and Anastasius Focht entered. “Thank you for seeing me, Primus.”
“If you’re being this formal, it can’t be good news,” Wei groaned. “Take some weight off your feet, Nasty.”
The Precentor Martial sighed as he sat down. “Unfortunately you are correct.”
“How much alcohol will it merit.”
“Maybe a small beer.”
Wei sniffed and opened a cooler on the side of the office, passing him a sealed can from his preferred brewery on Summer. She cracked open a miniature of plum brandy for herself and emptied it into a shot glass. “Alright, who are we drinking damnation upon?”
The white-haired man gave her a mildly reproving look and cracked the can open. “To the brave soldiers of the Alshain Avengers, who deserved better officers.”
“Dammit.” Wei raised glass. “May they rest in peace. What happened?”
“It is not officially being called mutiny, but all three regiments decided that rather than attack Altenmarkt as ordered, they would take their jumpships and make for Alshain itself.”
Wei frowned. “They’re a few jumps apart, aren’t they?”
Focht nodded. “But without HPGs no one expected immediate responses. Their commander left a sealed message advising of his intentions, to be opened fifteen days after they jumped out. By that point it was too late to stop them.”
Alshain had been a district capital of the Combine since the formation of the Free Rasalhague Republic, and before that it had been the functional capital of Rasalhague District due to distrust of the Rasalhague people in recent generations. The Alshain Avengers were all that remained of the old Alshain District Regulars and wanting to reclaim their homeworld wasn’t beyond understanding.
“I don’t recall that the DCMS treats mutineers well,” the Primus said after a moment. “Of course, it is only mutiny if one fails.”
“Generally, yes. Unfortunately it’s worse than them just failing. Altenmarkt was one of the first Rasalhague worlds being targeted for relief by Task Force Ruby. Leaving the garrison there endangers the advance and General Mansdottir is fit to be tied.”
“It’s a slap to his face right after he was pressured to accept the Republic falling back under Combine ‘protection’,” Wei agreed. “How badly did the Smoke Jaguars beat the Avengers.” Alshain was the Smoke Jaguar headquarters in the Inner Sphere
Focht shook his head. “They didn’t.”
“I don’t care how enigmatic you are, you don’t get another beer until you finish that one.”
Narrowing his one eye, he drained the can. “The Ghost Bears are the ones who crushed the Avengers.”
Wei blinked. “The Ghost Bears are helping the Smoke Jaguars?” So far as she was aware there was no love lost between the two.
“No, the Avengers apparently stumbled into a three-sided fight with both Clans. The Bears seem to be launching their own invasion of the Smoke Jaguars. So far we don’t know why, but it’s not the only world that has changed hands. The Avengers finding out is one of the few pieces of good news.”
She sat back in her chair, drink half-forgotten in her hands. “Would that suggest that the Bears are weakening their defenses facing the Combine?”
“It would, but the Avenger’s mutiny will make rallying support for renewing operations there an up-hill struggle.” Focht tossed the empty can into Wei’s wastepaper basket. “I’m no politician, but there is considerable ill-feeling. Mitchell Avellar has already retracted his offer to send aerospace forces to aid in the attack on Galedon, since he now feels he can’t be sure that they’d be properly supported.”
“How badly will that hurt the Combine?”
“It’s not good. If the Sharks deploy a warship there, it could leave the entire attack force cut off since the Combine has none of their own.”
“And I’m not keen on hazarding some of ours either.”
Focht spread his hands. “Task Force Ruby is also down three brigades, a major blow.”
“And correct me if I’m wrong, but Alshain is on one of the few reliable routes corewards?”
“That’s one of the reasons that it was judged to be the furthest points we could consider advancing to before this happened,” the Precentor-Martial agreed. “In that regard it may not be a huge blow to Ruby’s operations but there is the risk of the Bears trying to take liberated worlds from the Combine.”
“And the most likely reinforcements are from the troops about to hit Clan Wolf. Spectacular.”
“You understand completely. To go back to your earlier question, less than a regiment of the Alshain Avengers escaped on their dropships - out of three mech regiments and six conventional. I have no specifics but it is likely the officers elected to fight and die rather than face the Coordinator’s wrath. To all practical purposes, the entire force is a loss. Survivors will likely be folded into other units if they make it back safely.”
Wei narrowed her eyes. “And how did we hear about this?”
“Official DCMS traffic from the HPG station on Chandler. How the data got there is a good question.”
“Their mysterious FTL comms,” Wei murmured. “The First Circuit will go spare. I suppose it is possible that we are misunderstanding and jumpships carried the news…”
“We have not confirmed that they have their own HPGs or an alternative, but it is increasingly suspicious,” Focht agreed. “DRUM will have to make a report soon.”
“I’ll be braced.” Wei looked down at the glass in her hand and drank half of what remained. “There are FWLM and AFFC troops due to move out of the OWA to cover the Combine border, this may affect that… perhaps not the FWL troops - Marik wants the Kurita vote too much when it comes to pushing for the FedCom to lose its second vote. On the other hand, it gives leverage to Hanse Davion…”
Focht shrugged. “It would make some sense to send the First FedCom to reinforce the salient created by Task Force Ruby,” he allowed. “I’m not sure about the politics of it.”
“The threat might be enough to sway the Kurita vote - but I’m not actually sure it matters enough to the Steiner-Davions,” Wei observed. “Votes may be equal in theory, but the Federated Commonwealth can’t help but have disproportionate influence within the Star League Council. If they are pushed too hard and withdraw then it would be hard for the new Star League to survive.”
“You think that that will matter more than Marik’s pressure on the scales?”
“I don’t know,” the Primus allowed. “Marik may also be convinced to leave a second vote to the Federated Commonwealth if he can get an agreement that his House has the sole right to represent the Free Worlds League on the Star League Council.” The balance of power between House Marik and Parliament had tipped towards the former through the Succession Wars, but there were many in the latter who saw an end to the Succession Wars and the formation of a new Star League as leaving cracks in the constitutional basis of the Captain-General’s authority.
Focht adjusted his eyepatch. “Is that our problem?”
“I don’t know. If things go well, it doesn’t really affect us directly. If they don’t then it will be everyone’s problem.”
Motor City, Pesht
Diamond Shark Dominion
13 December 3058
The damage done to Motor City during the invasion had been made good. It had been around eight years, so Ace supposed it would have been something of a problem if the streets were still marked by the occasional fallen ‘mech. The palace where he had fought Ian Hawker had been repurposed and was now the property of a film studio, with the city’s administration relocated to a new building erected on a street that had seen some of the fiercest fighting.
Ace had seen the building work begun on previous visits. He hadn’t realized until returning there that there was a bronze statue of him to one side of the main entrance. It was an odd feeling to realize that people no longer saw him as just a former-bandit made good - not that he had any direct hand in banditry, having been too young at the time - but as a figure to look up to.
The rooms that held the Khan’s working space were on the inner ring, looking out over a garden that was fully encircled by the building. A fountain in the middle sprayed water over another statue, this one of a leaping Diamond Shark, making it glisten in the sunlight.
It felt awkward to sit in Barbara Sennet’s own chair, so Ace leant upon the desk as the holographic display spun up - first with the Diamond Sharks totem beast and then with the face of the khan.
The dusky woman had a medical dressing along the left side of her face, and her hair had been cropped short on that side of her head. She looked at him coolly and then over at the desk. “Sit down, Galaxy Commander.”
Ace looked over at the chair and then went around the desk to sit gingerly in her place.
“You took a real risk of not having enough forces on Irece,” Sennet told him. “However, your judgment was sound. We have word from New Samarkand and the DCMS are attacking Galedon V in sufficient force that the rest of Epsilon Galaxy is needed.”
“Just Galedon V?” Ace asked curiously.
“The forces committed seem limited. Star Colonel Labov’s estimation is no more than ten regiments of battlemechs and three times that in conventional forces. With elements of four galaxies available there is no immediate cause for concern,” Sennet told him. She reached up to scratch at the bandage, stopping herself at the last minute. “Has Ellison Enders’ report on his negotiations with ComStar reached you?”
“It caught up with me on Luthien.”
“Good.” The Khan’s eyes narrowed. “She seems willing to negotiate regarding restoring HPG services if we can strike the right bargain.”
Ace nodded. “I have the same impression, but the price may not be one that we want to pay. We would be better off without ComStar’s presence…”
“In the abstract, I agree. It may not be practical.” Sennet paused. “The enclaves along the border have not officially lifted the interdiction but they are clearly still active and have been willing to share information about the movements of the Hellons and Horses.”
“At what price?”
“So far, none.”
Which meant that the price had yet to be paid, Ace understood. There would be one. “Was the information useful?”
“It was accurate,” Sennet admitted. “The Horse’s main supply base was on Bjarred, now it is ours and they failed to reclaim it.”
That was excellent news. “Dependence on ComStar is a critical weakness we cannot afford, but tolerance of them need not be dependence.”
“Agreed. I see no reason to restore the HPG stations we now control, but once we have our own HPGs network fully active their enclaves have less strategic importance - they are mostly on the fringes of our space.” Sennet paused. “And they may be a useful interface with the Inner Sphere in the future. I think few of the other Clans delude themselves that they can conquer the Inner Sphere now.”
Ace felt the corners of his lips curl up. “Not even the Ice Hellions and Hells Horses?”
“I believe they are seeing the error of their ways.” The Khan looked serious. “I believe ComStar’s aid indicates that they would prefer not to have more Clans with a foothold in the Inner Sphere.”
“There are some unconfirmed reports from the Wolves that support that.” Ace offered.
“That has not reached me,” she noted, looking intrigued.
Ace opened the desk’s workstation. “I will send the files, but it is rumored that ComGuards units fought alongside the Wolves against the Zeegra.”
“The Zeegra most likely offended them as much as they did everyone. Your point stands though. I believe that most of the Clan Council would not object to leaving the enclaves in place, so long as ComStar is no longer in a position to sever our communications.”
“I tend to agree.” The Diamond Sharks were used to having enclaves of other Clans on their worlds anyway - Ace’s homeworld had been divided between the Sharks and the Burrocks all his life, at least until the absorption had made it a solely Diamond Shark territory. ComStar enclaves wouldn’t be too much of a complication.
Sennet nodded sharply. “And speaking of the council, there is the matter of the vote.”
Ace didn’t have to ask which vote. “Have the counts been collated?”
“Not all of them, unfortunately.” She pursed her lips. “There is something of a pattern.”
“That doesn’t sound like a clear outcome.”
“The homeworld votes are solidly in favor of Diamond Shark overall,” the Khan reported. “However the votes on Priori, Vinton and Albion were all fairly close. It didn’t change the outcome since the worlds are lightly populated…”
“Albion is the old Burrock capital,” Ace noted. “Possibly they see it as being Burrocks under another name, although that’s not the goal. I am not sure about the other two.”
“You are rather popular on Priori,” Sennet told him drily. “Founder knows why. As for Vinton, the civilian castes are excited about liberalizing from Smoke Jaguar norms and see the Sea Fox proposals as more steps away from that. We had to hold another round of votes for the new enclaves - you heard that we control the whole world now, quiaff?”
“Neg.” Ace shook his head. “We took advantage of the attack on Huntress.”
“Not precisely, but that was the effect.” Then the Khan grew more serious. “There is a significant Diamond Shark minority vote on most of the worlds I have visited.”
“Meaning a Sea Fox majority,” Ace clarified. “I am not sure I would have said the minority vote was significant on worlds around New Samarkand. Perhaps more so here and on Luthien.”
“The population of the Inner Sphere vastly outnumbers that of the homeworlds,” Sennet pointed out. “A decision forced on the homeworlds by our new conquests will be problematic.”
Ace spread his hands helplessly. “As would ignoring their votes.”
“This remains your fault,” she told him. “The Smoke Jaguar threat is negated?”
“They have no further presence on this side of the Rasalhague rift. Reports from beyond it suggest they are disintegrating - there have been four Khans elected since Showers’ death and none lasted more than a month.”
Sennet smiled with grim satisfaction. “Then leave Nagasawa in charge - he has done well - and bring a galaxy of whatever troops can be spared towards Albiero. See if you can come up with a clever solution to the vote’s outcome while you are at it. I will have more specific orders when you get there, but I believe with a little more pressure we can bring Fletcher and Taney to terms.”
“Bargaining from a position of strength,” Ace said with a smile.
“Correct. But do not go too far - unlike the Smoke Jaguars, they may be future customers. We have few enough allies among the Clans.” Her lips parted and revealed teeth as white as a shark’s hungry grin. “There are other places they can carve out enclaves in the Inner Sphere… and if that leaves them dependent on us then so much the better.”
-
How did the Cats manage to sneak two clusters into the water? One at a time? From outside the circle of equals? Hiding on the riverbed all this time?
They predicted where the crossing would be and snuck the Clusters into the river and then up (and down) stream to the right positions the previous night.
-
They are going to point Horses and Hellions towards the Jaguars to seek the IS occupation zone there? Since Jaguars have spent themselves fighting Sharks and must be pulling everything they have into fending off Bears and Star League, the Periphery border of their occupation zone must be wide open.
“Their mysterious FTL comms,” Wei murmured. “The First Circuit will go spare. I suppose it is possible that we are misunderstanding and jumpships carried the news…”
“We have not confirmed that they have their own HPGs or an alternative, but it is increasingly suspicious,” Focht agreed. “DRUM will have to make a report soon.”
The Comstar still doesn't know about Black boxes?
-
Can you imagine how ballistic some of ComStar would be if they knew that they no longer had a monopoly over interstellar communication for the Successor States.
-
Well, Wei at least knows it, if not how... ;)
-
Opalescent Reflections
Full House
Chapter 16
Nadir Jump Point, Topaz
Deep Periphery
3 January 3059
Waiting at Topaz to refuel and shift cargo between ships had been a calculated risk.
There were other reasons, Tyra reflected as her Sulla raced towards the smoke-gray mass of the warship ahead of Valkyrie squadron. Some of the wounded would do better in gravity and natural sunlight after the race through deep space from Huntress. Hydroponic greenhouses left on the barren world had raised a crop while they were away, adding to food supplies.
Most of all, the Task Force needed a rest. Huntress had been more than a quick hit and run raid. Weeks of fighting had taken a strain on everyone. Squadrons, crews and lances had been shuffled and re-shuffled, shipments of loot from Smoke Jaguar factories and stores had sent up and stowed in frantic haste, not always accurately or clearly labeled.
The time had let them take stock and prepare for the long voyage home.
It had been a calculated risk, but their math had been just a hair off.
Aerospace fighters were closing in behind Valkyrie squadron, a ten-strong star of Visigoths from the Lola-III destroyer that had jumped into the star system. How Topaz was found remained a mystery - perhaps it was just dumb luck - but the Snow Raven ship had boldly issued its challenge despite being outnumbered by the remaining escort.
CSRS Spur was no match alone for CSS Los Angeles, CSS San Jose and CSS Salt Lake City, even with the battle damage the three had suffered in the fighting over Huntress that had destroyed or crippled their sister-ships. The Spur was basically the same design, upgraded by the Clans rather than ComStar, but originally a Lola-III that had once served the Star League. The boldness might have meant that the commander was showing the arrogance that might be expected of the Clan’s paramount warship fleet… but from the comm-chatter, Alain Beresick thought that it was more likely that the destroyer had an HPG and was calling in aid.
Flares of light marked jumpships disappearing from the Topaz system. All of them had been retracting their jumpsails before the Spur jumped in - a few more hours and the Snow Ravens would have missed the fleet entirely.
Tyra saw the Visigoths closing the range. The Snow Raven fighters couldn’t accelerate as fast as Valkyrie squadron’s lighter fighters - the four surviving Cor-Stars and a pair of Smoke Jaguar Sullas captured on the ground during the fighting on Huntress - but that didn’t matter much when the Valkyries were slowing so that they didn’t overfly their destination.
“Clear the rear!” she ordered and all six of the Flying Drakon aerospace fighters flicked their noses to open fire on the Visigoths. Already flying ‘backwards’ as they slowed, it didn’t take much adjustment. Lasers raked through space and the Snow Ravens fired their own drives to evade, interrupting their interception angles.
“That won’t keep them long,” Tyra warned. The Clan pilots must have expected this and there wasn’t much time to engage. The aerospace fighters had to be aboard their carriers before the fleet jumped out or they would be left behind.
No one wanted that, but the jumpships and their cargoes could not be risked for a few pilots.
“It doesn’t have to,” Steffers told her, jiggling the Cor-Star’s rear to spray more laser fire from his nose guns in the direction of the nearest Snow Raven. “That was the last of the jumpships.”
Checking her display, Tyra exhaled slightly in relief when she saw that her second-in-command was right: the last of the delicate jumpships was gone, leaving just the friendly warships sharing the jump-point with the lone Snow Raven.
“If they’re smart, they’ll break off,” she predicted. “They aren’t packing nukes as far as I can tell.”
Cowley sounded less than confident. “Unless they’re crazy enough to ram.”
Closing speeds were dropping rapidly and Tyra could see the warships they were heading for without much magnification now. Doing so meant she was first to see the flashes of light. “They’re opening up!” she shouted. “Tuck in close!”
Like the veterans that they were, the rest of the squadron nudged their thrusters and closed into formation with her.
“Damn bucket had better be aiming right,” Cowley grumbled.
“They have the pick of their gunners,” Tyra told him. “And it’s the dropships as much as the Bucket of Bolts.”
The most junior of the squadron’s officers didn’t seem reassured: “Yeah, but the droppers can’t erase us with a single hit!”
The volleys of fire tore through space around the Valkyries and this, at last, was too much for the Visigoths. Flying in pairs, which was more discipline than Tyra had seen from Clan pilots before, the star of fighters peeled away, accelerating into a loop that took them away from the rear-guard of the fleet.
Tyra watched them for any parting shots, but there was no sign of them trying to spin and take the opportunity. There was a double flash from behind them and Steffers announced: “That was Los Angeles.”
Two destroyers left.
“The Ravens are out of reach,” Tyra decided. “Hard burn now, we don’t want to be left behind.”
“No way, no how.”
“Can’t keep the boss lady from her date.”
Tyra knew they couldn’t even see her glaring, but she tried anyway as the squadron pushed their throttles wide open. “It’s not a date, it’s a win-win proposition.”
“You’re having dinner with him, lead,” Steffers pointed out.
“If his attempt at swedish meatballs is the disaster I expect, then I’ll have a case of the best beer in the Clan Homeworlds,” she countered. “And if it turns out he can really cook, I’ll be enjoying swedish meatballs while you’re chowing on whatever the canteen provides.”
“You’re a wicked woman, boss,” the lojtnant admitted. “But what if the prince has someone cooking for him?”
“That’s why I’ll be watching him in the kitchen.”
“And what do you lose if he can cook?” Cowley asked curiously.
Tya chuckled. “Two bottles of Franklin Black Label. Can you believe he claims to like the stuff? Mechwarriors, am I right?”
“Last woman who knew that much about my drinking habits, I married her,” Valkyrie Two warned. He was new, a replacement for their one casualty, slotted in as Tyra’s wingman since they both had Sullas issued to replace their lost fighters.
“Shut your face, Biggs,” she shot back.
Cowley grunted. “I didn’t know you were married,” he admitted. “Where is she now?”
“How would I know? I got dear johned and divorced when I signed up for this mission. Two or three years away was a dealbreaker.” Biggs didn’t seem too cut up about it,
The massive grey hull was upon them now, dotted with the many dropships docked with it. At first Tyra thought the flash of light in the distance was another destroyer leaving, but then she saw it was too far away.
“More warships!” Beresick announced from the ship they were closing on. “Valkyrie squadron, you’re the last to land, get aboard now.”
“You heard him!” Tyra called and turned the Sulla around. “Berth and lock, we are out of time!”
Their destination wasn’t the ship itself - the Valkyrie’s last parent ship, CSS Boise, had been sent into the fiery grave of Huntress’ star after it was deemed too damaged to jump again without repairs they could not make with the limited time and resources available. Leaving a salvageable hull for the Clans was unacceptable. Their new home had been captured from among the dropships that had carried Sarah Weaver and her forces back to Huntress. Unimaginatively called a ‘Carrier-class’ by the Clans, the little dropship had room for more fighters than just the Valkyries, making it relatively spacious for them.
The hangar doors were wide open and Tyra lined herself up before cutting the fusion thruster.
Momentum carried her into grasp of mechanical restraints before she was fully into the dropship, a system that dragged the sleek Sulla inside and then down into one of the bays. Valkyrie Two was right behind her, Biggs’ fighter pulled over hers and then into the next bay.
Finally Cowley’s Cor-Star coasted in after them, clamps seizing and locking it in place before it could overshoot.
The hangar doors clanged shut so fast that Tyra felt it even in the depressurized hangar and the nauseating feeling of a K-F drive activating swept across her. Beresick must have been counting the seconds.
The transition seemed to take forever and no time at all.
“We made it,” Biggs breathed.
“This time,” Tyra muttered. “They know where we’re going.”
But she was wrong. “All hands,” Beresick announced, voice sent from the command deck of the warship once known as Osis’ Pride but since rechristened by popular vote SLS Bucket-of-Bolts to every deck and every attached dropship. “We cannot risk a direct line to the Inner Sphere now that the Snow Ravens have a lead on us. We have jumped an easy twenty light years spinwards of Topaz, which they will hopefully not guess. From here we will head for an Explorer Corps base deep in the periphery to resupply - it will take us longer to get home, but going via Columbus Base gives us a much better chance of making it.”
“I guess the high command was ahead of you, boss-lady.”
Tyra pulled off her helmet. “As long as they’re ahead of the Clans, I’m okay with that.” Besides, and she looked at the tactical display that updated her on the other fighters of the squadron, I’m already home.
Landing, Polcenigo
Diamond Shark Dominion
17 February 3059
It was often easy to under-estimate dropships when you saw them from the inside or in the distances common in space. Up close even the smallest dropships towered over a battlemech.
Of course, most of Ace’s personal experience was with dropships intended to carry battlemechs, so being larger was something of a prerequisite. The Overlord-C dropships that made up the bulk of the inbound flotilla each towered more than ten times the height of his Huntsman. They were scarred by battle, but they wore those scars as proudly as they did the emblems of Clan Ice Hellion.
“How is your math?” Ace asked quietly.
The reply came from the command tower of the drop-port. “I swear on my life, those dropships are running at less than half their full cargo tonnage. Even with the Ice Hellions penchant for smaller ‘mechs, they are still under full load.”
“Harry is very good at math,” Thomas confirmed sagely. “He occasionally has trouble tying his boot laces, but then, his eyes are much further from them than most peoples.”
“You are just jealous of my superior intellect and tactical prowess,” the elemental protested cheerfully. Although they came from different sibkos, the pair shared a patrilineal ancestor and squabbled exactly as if they had been raised together.
“I hope you are correct, it will make this much easier,” Ace observed before Thomas could continue the friendly bickering. “They are low enough now. Inform them of where they are landing.”
The dropships were low enough that their fusion torches were already making the air noticeably warmer around the drop port. In just a few moments they would be down on the ground, and they had only a limited combat patrol in the air to escort them down. Why would they? After all, they had been told that Clan Smoke Jaguar had no objection to their presence.
Ace had worried that the Hellions would smell a rat, but apparently whoever was in command up there thought that the Smoke Jaguars were friendly… or perhaps, that they were so desperate for aid that they would refrain from the usual dominance plays. More fool them.
“Ice Hellion dropships,” Harry transmitted from the control tower, which had been evacuated of everyone else. “I regret to inform you that this drop port and this world are now in the hands of Clan Diamond Shark. You are landing without our consent, and I command that you depart!”
The radio cut off and Ace saw glass shatter as the elemental dove through an armor glass panel overlooking the port, firing his jump jets only after he was clear to maximize his distance. That was a wise decision, because a moment later one of the aerospace fighters opened up on the control tower and obliterated it.
Ace’s Huntsman and the other ‘mechs were already moving out of the hangars and warehouses they had been hidden in. Lights on his tactical display marked aerospace fighters taking off in the distance where they had been hidden. It would take precious moments for the fighters to arrive and the entire situation might be resolved by then.
If, of course, the Ice Hellion commander responded wisely. That was… not a given.
“Ice Hellions!” Ace declared on the general broadcast. “You have dared to fire without provocation upon my officer! Epsilon Galaxy! Omega Galaxy! Destroy these interlopers!”
The moment had been picked carefully: the dropships weren’t quite at the point where they couldn’t abort the landing, but they had no time to discuss the matter. Every dropship commander would have to decide on the spot if they were going to keep landing in a drop port that was suddenly swarming with Diamond Shark forces or if they were going to break for orbit.
As Ace’s Huntsman raced towards the landing fields, he saw a Broadsword raise its nose and fire the aft thrusters, fighting for altitude. The small dropship was only the first, and more dropships responded as the commanders - or sometimes the pilots - decided that for all their firepower and armor they did not wish to be immobile targets on the ground.
Not all of them made that choice, though. The Clans were aggressive by default and four Overlords continued to descend, supported in that decision by a pair of Unions and a single Broadsword and Carrier - the latter two aiming for the long runways rather than the pads.
But even as they settled down, the dropships did not open their hatches. Some of their mechwarriors might be in their cockpits, but at a ‘friendly’ drop port it was unlikely that all would be. And after the reports of running battles across the Diamond Shark Dominion… many might not be fit for battle.
Every ‘mech opened fire on the dropships as they landed - they could hardly miss such targets. Ace focused his own PPCs on one of the turrets of the Union-C nearest him, the bolts of energy digging into the armor plating and buckling the barrels of the aft gauss rifles.
Not far behind, Michel’s restored Warhawk opened fire on the next turret, stitching the LRM launcher with pulses of coherent light that shredded the boxy system before it could fully extend and be brought to bear.
Over a hundred other ‘mechs were doing the same. Their weapons were mere pin-pricks in comparison to the firepower that would have been brought to bear by other dropships, and most of the mechwarriors weren’t showing the precision of Ace and Michel. More than half his force had been pulled from garrison units - Kevin Nagasawa had volunteered one of his clusters to fight alongside the Ivory Skate, but he had to keep most of his warriors to rebuild the ragged ranks of Omega Galaxy.
But there were a lot of pinpricks… and they were close enough now that just opening the hatches into the ‘mech bays would open the way for Diamond Sharks to get aboard.
One of the Overlords did so anyway and as Ace shifted his aim to one of the secondary thrusters higher up the globular hull of the Union, he saw a star of light battlemechs charge right up the ramps and into the ‘mech bays, elementals clinging desperately to fast moving Incubus and Piranha ‘mechs that were not intended to cary them.
The Overlord could have been carrying as many as forty-five battlemechs between their three bays. In the close confines, Ace didn’t think much of the chances of the Diamond Shark mechwarriors making it out again if many of the defending 'mechs were manned. But the dropship would take serious damage and now there were twenty-five elementals inside, which would be lethal against the crew and dismounted mechwarriors.
Guns were firing back now from the dropships as the crews reacted, but many of their turrets were placed to fire up at targets ahead of the dropships, and the other turrets had either been knocked out or were drawing fire exactly because they were fighting back.
“Incoming fighters,” Harry warned and Ace looked up, seeing winged shapes descending from the sky. It was too soon for this to be friendlies and his sensors confirmed it - the fighters were coming on attack runs, most of them Visigoths. While the design was too common to be unknown among the Diamond Sharks, Ace’s aerospace trinaries were dominated by the lighter Turk and Sulla, production of heavier fighters was still lagging.
“Treacherous Sharks!” a voice called out as the Hellions descended to defend the landed dropships the only way that they could. There were only ten of them, and they had to know it was too late to save the dropships. Even if they managed to take off, over a hundred Diamond Shark fighters were incoming. But the Hellions attacked anyway and Ace saw a Sabutai diving towards him.
Throwing his Huntsman to one side, Ace fired his jump jets to make a long and low jump away from the incoming fire. It would be almost impossible for such a fast moving craft to track him…
But the Sabutai turned sharply to keep him in the fighter’s path anyway and it opened up with pulse lasers, particle beams and even a gauss rifle. The shots hammered into Ace’s Huntsman, carving away armor all across his front and knocking him off course, he landed badly and barely managed to twist and fire one PPC back at the Sabutai as it climbed again, infrared signature glowing from the heat generated by those massive salvos.
Ace wasn’t the only one firing back - three of the Visigoths plowed into the ground, one of them at such a low angle that it skipped up again and smashed into the wing of the landed Broadsword. Another exploded as it hit the ground, carrying enough munitions that the blast knocked two Diamond Shark ‘mechs near the crash to the ground.
Almost casually firing his other PPC towards the Union and defacing the Ice Hellion badge on its armor, Ace kept his eyes on the Sabutai as it looped up into the sky. The fighter was a Smoke Jaguar design and they didn’t give them out lightly - whoever was in it had to be a leader.
While they were clearly inept enough to get into this mess, that didn’t mean he wanted them to escape. And the pilot clearly felt the same way as they rolled the fighter over and came right down at him once more.
This time Ace maneuvered to put the Union at his back - shots that missed him might hit the dropship. If he had expected that to deter the Ice Hellion though, it didn’t. They held their pulse lasers back but the gauss rifle crashed against the Huntsman’s anti-missile system, wrecking it. One PPC stripped away more armor on the left leg, penetrating the knee, although the other missed and dug into the Union’s armor.
Ace’s own PPCs didn’t miss. Properly braced, he sighted in on the forward canards either side of the cockpit and both of them were obliterated by the powerful bolts of charged energy.
Deprived of its control surfaces, the Sabutai fought to climb again, but it was coming in too aggressively and Ace hopped the Huntsman aside before the stricken fighter could crash right through him.
Once again, the pilot proved their skill… or perhaps fanaticism. They could have ejected, but instead they slewed the damaged fighter to the side and as it belly flopped onto the ferrocrete, the wreck skidded right towards the limping Huntsman.
Ace tried to avoid the collision with his jump jets but the damage to the left leg was just too much and it was clipped by one of the vertical stabilizers, sending him sprawling ignominiously.
“Not the most glorious kill of your career,” Michel observed, loping his Warhawk over to join Shiro in covering Ace as he brought the Huntsman upright.
“This is not supposed to be glorious,” Ace answered. “It is supposed to break them.”
The fire from the dropships was dying down and as he watched, the last pair of Visigoths decided that discretion was indeed the better part of valor, going vertical as they tried to catch up with the dropships that had decided not to land. Ace didn’t like their chances, but he wasn’t a pilot and perhaps they had learned something useful.
With a sigh, he opened communications again. “This is Galaxy Commander Enders signaling the Ice Hellion Khans.”
After a long moment, a woman replied: “This is Khan Danielle Lienet. Your dishonorable trap does your Clan no honor.”
“Honor to the honorable, Khan Lienet. Your Clan joined a coalition to stab us in the back. Does Khan Taney have nothing to say?”
“Khan Taney’s fighter was flying with our combat air patrol,” Lienet told him. “His fighter is not among those in the air, so he is… unavailable. You may have a better idea of his state than I.”
Ace looked at the burning wreck that wasn’t quite underneath the Union but was certainly dangerously close. “Did he pilot a Sabutai, by some chance?”
“Aff,” she replied shortly.
“Then I suppose he is busy conversing with Leo Showers.” Ace’s eyes narrowed further. “We claim this world, Khan Lienet. But we make no claim on the worlds further into the Smoke Jaguars’ invasion corridor. You may have free passage to them and the same to your friends in the Hells’ Horses. Perhaps you will receive help from the Jaguars or perhaps you will need to fight them for supplies and bases. Either way, it is not our business.”
“You want me to turn against our allies?” Lienet exclaimed. “Do you think our honor is so lacking?”
“I do not care. Showers is dead and from what I hear, Weaver is also dead. I could not tell you who the Smoke Jaguar’s khans are now. For all I care you can go all the way to Rasalhague, it is only three jumps or so.” Ace paused. “But get the hell out of our Dominion. You are not welcome here.”
For a moment he thought Lienet was done with the conversation, but then she asked: “Do you Sharks really think you can keep so vast an empire? You are surrounded by enemies.”
“If you like your chances, come down here and fight,” he offered. Barbara’s best estimate was that half the forces the Hellions had brought to the Inner Sphere were dead or otherwise unable to fight. As much as half of what remained was penned up in their dropships in front of Ace. “Otherwise, leave us to get on with ruling that empire.”
Khan Danielle Lienet did not, in fact, come down and fight. By the time that the Ice Hellion fleet departed Polcenigo, those within the dropships had surrendered and were being processed as bondsmen, as their remaining equipment was similarly being cataloged for repair and use by the Diamond Sharks.
-
Imperial City, Irurzun
Benjamin Military District, Draconis Combine
18 February 3059
Minoru’s first warning was that he didn’t recognise either of the guards guarding the door that led down to the black room.
Sometimes the press of business and protocol was such that new members of the Otomo couldn’t be presented to him before they served their first duty postings. It was unfortunate, but unavoidable. But in that case they should be paired with a veteran.
Even then, Minoru’s first thought was that there had been a mistake, something he would have to gently chide Carlos Kinnison over and that the commander of the Otomo would verbally eviscerate the officer responsible for.
Then the palace was rocked by an explosion, the first of several. And even then he didn’t truly see the threat until the two guards, having first moved to shield he and Atsuko with their bodies, started to hustle them away from the door and the shelter it offered.
Soft, some whispered about him. More a scholar than a warrior.
He had been careless, Minoru admitted in a small part of his mind. Lowered his guard.
But this was no time for that. Whatever they thought, he was a Kurita.
The first of the fake-Otomo found his throat opened by the Coordinator’s wakizashi.
The second was beyond Atsuko, he had his hands on Minoru’s wife!
A heartbeat later, Minoru Kurita had his hands on the man. He lifted, turned… and then dropped to his knees.
Delivered head first to the ground with all the weight of his body-armor, weapons and other gear at the exact wrong angle… the imposter’s neck snapped.
Real Otomo would have been better, Minoru thought before he realized that Atsuko was screaming. He caught her in his arms and ran back towards the door. His wife closed her mouth as the first shock wore off and she clutched hold of him. The coordinator only needed a hand free to open the door, the handle coded to his fingers. Atsuko ducked her head as they went through, panic banished after the first surprise.
He set her down as the door closed behind her. “Minoru?”
“A moment,” he asked, tapping controls on the panel next to the door. Another door opened at a right angle, leading down the stairs. “We need to go. Stay close.”
“Always,” she promised and followed him down, never more than a step behind him. Minoru could feel her warmth.
Stair after stair, each sealed by another armored door. Some of the landings were gratings, intended to draw away gasses or liquids that might be poured down them. He felt his heart beat sixty times before they were at the bottom and climbed one further flight to reach the door into the Black Room.
Atsuko had never been here before, but she wasted no questions about it. “Our enemies?” she asked instead, standing by the door - she would not be able to open it now without him, but did not dare the table. “The Clans are not so subtle, Davion is bold but…”
“But not when we are between him and the most powerful Clan remaining,” Minoru agreed, leaning on the table and taking a deep breath. Then he flipped on the console built into it and started checking comms and security. There were red and amber lights almost everywhere. “This is pushback.”
His worst fear.
“Pushback?” Atsuko stepped closer, pulled back the seat at the table and offered it.
Minoru sat down, but did not look back at her. “Hugai Kurita let the nobility run wild after ComStar humiliated him. Hohiro Kurita - Hugai's son and my great-grandfather, not my brother - empowered the military to rein in the nobility. And my grandfather allowed the nobility influence with the DCMS, to divide them and the high command, pitting them against each other to rebuild House Kurita’s dominance.” He paused. “My father’s reforms were more blatant, a professional military answerable to the Coordinator. But there are those who remember near-sovereign nobles and a high command to whom the Combine was the army’s logistical train and little more.”
Atsuko swallowed. “Are they mad? If you come to harm, your brother will never forgive them.”
“Ah, but I am young and easily led.” The first explosion had been the Otomo barracks, the second the comms center, he saw. Up above, soldiers in black Otomo uniforms were moving to secure every ministry, every entrance. Battlemechs in gold-trimmed black were exiting the hangars to take hold of choke points. It was the textbook security lockdown that should follow such an attack - such a shame that not one face under those helmets was familiar to Minoru. “Clearly it is evil advisors who have led me astray. When the righteous officers and officials are able to stand at my side and my back, traditional values will be restored.” Cynicism dripped like poison from his lips.
She stared at him for a moment, then reached out and placed her right hand over the back of his. “You have feared this for a long time.”
Minoru stared down at their hands, the console below it. “I had hoped that leading our people to victory over the Clans would reduce the threat of this. Instead, I may have released them from the pressure to remain united.”
His right hand was still dancing over the console and he managed to access the security cameras for the offices used by senior military officers who were attending court. He saw familiar faces at last, but not in a way that he had hoped. Boris Petrov had not gone quietly into the night: three of the faux-Otomo lay dead around him… but the Warlord of Benjamin was still on the floor, red blood soaking the front of his white uniform jacket as he sprawled on his back in the lobby, chest not rising or falling.
Atsuko covered her mouth with her free hand at the sight. “What can I do?”
Minoru looked up at his wife, seeing himself reflected in her eyes. “For now, keep doing what you’re doing.” Her fingers closed slightly over on his hand.
The palace was a loss. The Coordinator forced himself to accept that and activated a private communications system that had been built into the city from the beginning, hidden in the vast construction programme that had erected it. A way for him to reach out beyond the palaces to the wider communications net of Irurzun.
A moment later, and the screen lit with a very different scene. The desk of his cousin’s secretary, backed by a large Combine flag. The man behind the desk was less immaculate than usual, a lock of hair loose from his usual tight bun, but he was no less efficient. His eyes met Minoru’s and there was a moment of recognition. “Lord Kurita,” he said. “The Coordinator is in the line.”
The camera was yanked sharply around, the secretary replaced with the round features of Chandrasekhar Kurita. “Tono, I feared for your life and freedom.”
“You are informed, then?”
“I have many contacts,” the industrial magnate admitted. “None that warned me of this, but some who would contact me only under the direst of circumstances. The message I had but moments ago was that you could not be reached with an urgent report. There are few reasons for this.” He shrugged helplessly. “Fewer that are good.”
“Then in summary, the Otomo have been compromised or destroyed, the palace is in hostile hands.” Minoru closed his hands into fists. There was only one other DCMS formation on Irurzun that could act as a rallying point and, most importantly, was equipped to retake at least part of the Imperial City quickly. “Can you make contact with the Ryuken?”
Chandrasekhar’s face was pale, but his voice was steady - if more serious than usual. “Director Indrahar’s call - on a private number I did not know he was aware of - was to find some way to inform you that the Ryuken barracks have been gassed. Casualties were almost total. He did not say who has access to their equipment... which implies that it is not good news.”
Minoru closed his eyes for a moment. What had once been a powerful corps of five ‘mech regiments had taken the brunt of buying time to rally against the Diamond Sharks. The five surviving battalions were on Irurzun as an honor: trusting them with the security of the capital beyond the Imperial City - and to give them time to rebuild. Almost two hundred capable, loyal mechwarriors with some of the best equipment available. Their reward had become a death sentence.
“Tono, you must leave the capital,” his cousin insisted. “I can arrange a shuttle and there are several jumpships that can take you to a loyal regiment. Whoever is behind this cannot have corrupted many units.”
He swallowed. “I cannot.”
“Tono… Minoru.”
“I. Can. Not,” he repeated. “It is not a matter of will, it is a fact.” His eyes went to the console. “Every exit from the Black Room has been compromised. They have not yet started trying to blow the doors open but once they do, it is only a matter of time before they enter.”
Atsuko gasped. All Minoru could offer in comfort was to reach over and place his right hand over hers.
There was a ping from her pocket and she looked embarrassed.
“You had better answer,” he told her. No one would randomly get a call to a personal comm inside the Black Room. The only way to get such a call through the sophisticated electronic security was to control one of three comm nodes, one of which was still under Minoru’s control and possibly still a secret. The others were the palace and the military comm centers.
Atsuko’s comm unit was sleek and modern. She raised it to her ear. “Moshi moshi… ah, otousan.”
Her father. Minoru looked at the screen and saw understanding on Chandrasekhar’s face. He looked back and saw his wife’s face growing gray as she listened to Oda Hideyoshi. Saw understanding dawn upon her.
“I will tell him,” she said quietly when her father was done and she cut the comm.
He raised a questioning eyebrow.
“My father,” she said quietly, “Offers his services to mediate with those currently controlling the Imperial City. He apologizes that it is not within his means to place his sword at your service at this time.” And then: “It is too soon for him to be placed to do so unless he was already aware.”
“Treason,” Chandrasekhar said simply.
“Yes,” Atsuko admitted. “My father has betrayed you.”
Minoru opened his mouth to speak, hesitated, then gave her the same honesty. “My duty to the Combine does not include handing its rule over to a treacherous cabal.”
“Of course not.” She looked into his eyes, “There is no escape?”
“Unfortunately, no.” Minoru sighed. “I can open the doors sequentially from here, let you get out. Your father is probably placed to protect you.”
Atsuko had never taken a seat. Now she fell to the floor, resting on her knees. “I had no part in this!”
“I know. But you need not die with me.” Putting it into words hurt. He was going to die now. There would be no decades growing old with Atsuko. No gentle retirement, passing the throne to a son when one was ready. Just death.
“My lord,” she told him, not looking up. “We do not know that I am not with child. If they cannot have you, then your child would be a rallying point against alternatives.”
“And if you are not pregnant?” Chandrasekhar said bluntly. Atsuko might be out of his view but he could clearly hear her.
“Then no doubt it will be ensured quickly enough that I am, to present a claim.”
Breath left Minoru’s lungs at the brutal implication of that. He reached down for Atsuko, hands finding her long hair loose around her shoulders. “I…”
“I promised to live my entire life with you,” she said in a small voice.
“It would seem that you married a true samurai,” his cousin said sadly. “I will contact Director Indrahar and see if he can find a way, but…”
Minoru pushed his chair away and crouched to put his arms around Atsuko. “I had hoped for, planned for, that life to be longer.”
“Death,” she said in a trembling voice, “Is lighter than a feather.”
He stood, drawing his wife to her feet. “Take the shuttle you mentioned, cousin. Take word to those who are loyal. Take my last commands: purge the Combine of this corruption. Tell Sorenson to spread his reforms to those who will welcome them. And tell my… tell Franklin that the Combine will need a sound foundation to reclaim more than Galedon. I trust him…”
“Do you wish me to record a message?”
Minoru buried his face in his wife’s face. Thought of the demolition charges buried in the foundations of this room and also of the buildings above. Of the limited time left.
“Yes,” he said at last. And, at Chandrasekhar’s nod, he looked into the camera. Not caring that Atsuko would be in the camera’s view. “Let the people know that we have been betrayed. Let the soldiers bleeding to free our worlds know that traitors lacked the courage for our struggle. A coordinator may die, but the dragon will live on. I, Minoru Kurita, am no longer free to discharge the duties leading House Kurita. For this, I will answer to my ancestors. As of this moment, I name my brother Franklin Kurita as the thirty-second Coordinator of the Draconis Combine…”
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Stupid black dragons. At least ensure he has a heir to grab first!
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Damn. I really liked this take on Minoru, so of course he and Atsuko had to die.
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This one really stings. And what a way to start the day off. But we (hopefully) get Coordinator Franklin, and that's not something you see often.
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Another Khan done by the Ender of Failures.
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This will present some...difficulties for the BDS, methinks. Minoru did something that is certainly appropriate, but hardly common, especially among Lords and Leaders.
They dun ****** up.
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Another Khan done by the Ender of Failures.
Does this make him a "Ace of Khan's - Hawker, 2 Burrocks, Showers and now an Ice Hellion 🥇
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Does this make him a "Ace of Khan's - Hawker, 2 Burrocks, Showers and now an Ice Hellion 🥇
And Natasha Kerensky can add "I survived Ace Enders" to the long list of reasons why she is a living legend.
Actually, I wouldn´t put it past her to have an "I survived Ace Enders" t-shirt made, and to wear it in public.
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And Natasha Kerensky can add "I survived Ace Enders" to the long list of reasons why she is a living legend.
Actually, I wouldn´t put it past her to have an "I survived Ace Enders" t-shirt made, and to wear it in public.
would he get a cut of the royalties? (for those who don't get this, there was a linebacker with the Seahawks named Brian Bosworth in the 1980s who sold merch insulting himself to Bronco fans before a seahawk game.)
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And Natasha Kerensky can add "I survived Ace Enders" to the long list of reasons why she is a living legend.
Actually, I wouldn´t put it past her to have an "I survived Ace Enders" t-shirt made, and to wear it in public.
Who can we commission to draw Natasha wearing that shirt!?! ;D
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The downside to killing all those Khans for poor Ace Enders is that he is going to end up being elected as a Khan himself whether he wants it or not. He's got just too much of a reputation and kill record to NOT get it.
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Ace sure is Ace of Khans now. And the scene with elemental jumping out of control tower, right before it is destroyed deserves to find itself in the action holovid.
Damn, I liked Minoru here, out of all POV characters I didn't expect him to die (also Ace and Wei). Caught completely off guard as he was, he didn't let himself be overwhelmed and denied his enemies the victory.
Black Dragons messed up doubly, first because they tried, second because they failed so thoroughly. Minoru's death and the manner of it, will turn those who are not directly connected to BDS, but were inclined to support them, against them. Franklin has carte blanche to dig after the real and supposed BDS member down to the proverbial bedrock and hammer down their base of support with reforms. However in the short and medium turn this will hurt the DC immensely, giving the Sharks and the Bears time to prepare for prolonged stay.
The question is how hard resistance will the BDS offer, they killed Otomo and Ryuken, taking over their equipment plus the regiments they control, but once the news is out that the Coordinator and his wife committed honourable suicide, rather than being taken alive, they should now that they lost, even if they pick up a cadet branch Kurita as a pretender. So will they fight to die with some honour, or will they still try to somehow win this?
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Atsuko's and Minoru's honorable suicide, combined with the disaster that was the Alshain Avenger's little AWOL adventure may convince regiments that are leaning BDS to sit this one out or throw their support behind Franklin, once he's winning. But who knows, fanatics gonna fanatic, I guess.
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One of the issues that I see is that it is going to force the AFFC to divert some troops to shore up the Combine border just in case. It's going to make life much harder for the OA as well. It will be interesting to see what Omi does and what Victor does to support whatever that decision is. That they destroyed the Ryuken who were being honored for their sacrifices for the Dragon will put pressure on many of average members of the Dragon to not side with the BDS as well. That they were willing to so casually destroy not only the Coordinator but also common soldiers in such an honorless way won't play well.
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With Omi out of the line of succession, maybe Victor has a chance with her... ;)
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This is heavy. Franklin wasn't groomed to be successor, it won't be easy and could end up being lead if he not careful.
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This is heavy. Franklin wasn't groomed to be successor, it won't be easy and could end up being lead if he not careful.
If he´s being lead, it´ll be by Subhash Indrahar and Chandrasekhar Kurita. It could be much worse - they´re both loyal to the family and to the Combine, and on board with the reforms Minoru started.
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If he´s being lead, it´ll be by Subhash Indrahar and Chandrasekhar Kurita. It could be much worse - they´re both loyal to the family and to the Combine, and on board with the reforms Minoru started.
Subhash is dead, died off-screen (during the battle for New Samarkand, IIRC). Ninyu is head of the ISF now, but your argument still stands.
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Opalescent Reflections
Full House
Chapter 17
Hilton Head, North America
Terra, Sol System
1 March 3059
There were a few unusual additions to the DRUM meeting. Normally it was attended by the four heads of the departments that served as ComStar’s eyes and ears, perhaps as many members of the First Circuit and then the Primus and Precentor-Martial if either or both of them could spare time from their other duties.
Today the room was almost full, with observers from various Star League members lining the seats along one wall. Precentor-Advocate Shaffi of Irurzun wasn’t usually among the First Circuit attendees but he was here today, wearing the signs of the hastily organized command circuit that had brought him here from the Combine capital.
Morgan Hasek-Davion sat at the table beside the Precentor-Martial, representing the SLDF, and Danai Centrella was on Wei’s own left - attending on behalf of her mother. The Chair of the Star League Council was on Canopus IV, and didn’t plan on rushing the hundreds of light years to Terra unless a face-to-face meeting of the council was called for.
“I believe we’re all here,” Wei decided, looking down the table. “I hope everyone remembered to get a full night’s sleep? I don’t hold with the idea that exhaustion makes people more efficient. Possibly happier, depending on the nature of the exhaustion, but not more efficient.”
“Thank you, Primus. I have reminded my analysts to take a full day off now that they’ve handed in their assessments,” Elswick Cameron declared.
Shaffi shook his head. “I hate sleeping on dropships,” he explained. “I’ll be going to bed after this meeting though, my body clock isn’t lined up yet.”
“Alright. Why don’t we start with your account then.”
The precentor raked one hand through his hair. “I haven’t been to the Imperial City since before the events in question, so I’m not sure how useful I can be. On the eighteenth, we noticed communication issues with their comm centers - there are civil and military facilities. It’s not unusual for one to be delayed in responding - usually due to someone thinking they can throw their weight around - but both is unusual. A little over an hour later, there was a planetary security lockdown. At that point I ordered all staff to return to the HPG station and we carried our our own lockdown.”
“Do you have an enclave around the HPG station?” asked Danai.
“Not really,” Shaffi admitted. “Irurzun’s not that near to the border - Hanse Davion’s Galtor campaign in the mid-3020s brought the border fairly close but that only lasted a few years. Besides the HPG station proper we have an informal shared administration over the hospice, a housing district for our staff and the park between them. It’s just part of the old planetary capital though, not even two square kilometers with no barriers to entry except to the HPG itself.”
The Canopian princess seemed satisfied so the precentor continued: “The Voice of the Dragon made an announcement that the Ryuken barracks had been attacked and that the lockdown was expected to end the following day except in the vicinity. However, at around the same time we got reports that there had been explosions at the Imperial City.” He paused. “On the way to the jump point, we got some long range images of the Imperial City. A large portion of the core palace is gone.”
He took a deep breath. “That was when I sent the first priority message to Terra. The following morning there was an official declaration that the Coordinator had been assassinated by his brother Franklin. Angus Kurita formally stated his succession to the office immediately afterwards. We don’t know exactly where the broadcast came from, but it almost certainly wasn’t the Imperial City.”
“I don’t recognise the name,” Wei admitted. “Who is he?”
“A third cousin, once removed,” Elswick Cameeron told her. “That’s not as distant as it might seem - besides his sister and half brother, Minoru Kurita’s next nearest relative is a female second cousin. Angus is the only great-grandson of the late and unlamented Marcus Kurita, which does make him the senior member of the cadet branch descending from Hugai Kurita’s younger son Undell.”
“Does he have any accomplishments of note?”
“None.” The speaker was Dahlia Erin of humint. “He was due to attend Sun Zhang academy but after the loss of the academy he completed military education via private tutors and has no combat record. Since then he was mainly found around the fringes of the court.” The head of ComStar’s human intelligence specialists smiled thinly. “There are no thoughts in Angus Kurita’s head except those put there by his great-grandfather’s traditional allies in the conservative fringes of the Combine’s nobility.”
A puppet ruler, Wei thought. “Is this a first hand report, Dahlia?”
“From one of our adepts who met him a few years ago.” The peaceful-looking woman spread her hands slightly. “He wasn’t judged important enough for me to take a personal interest.”
“So you’re a field operative?” asked Morgan Hasek-Davion curiously.
Dahlia’s eyes twinkled. “I used to be a food reviewer for CNN. It’s a good way to meet members of the nobility and a wide range of connections is useful in diplomatic circles.” She paused and gave him a consoling look. “The world of intelligence gathering is often shockingly mundane, Marshal.”
“Moving on?” Wei asked politely and looked over at Shaffi.
The precentor sighed. “I left for Terra the next day. No one tried to stop the shuttle but there was a polite request to inspect it in case any fugitives were aboard. We declined, of course.”
“Do you have any idea who they are looking for?”
Shaffi smiled at Danai Centrella. “I do. Our jumpship received a tightbeam message from another shuttle, one the crew wisely did not retransmit. The message was from Chandrasekhar Kurita - an even more distant cousin, but one who made rather more of himself than Angus - and Director Ninyu Indrahar of the ISF. They sent a copy of a message from the Coordinator where he formally abdicated in favor of his half-brother Franklin, charging him to purge the Combine of traitors who had him trapped within his own palace.”
The two royals in the room both pulled identical faces, perhaps seeing their own families in those shoes.
The Precentor-Martial simply steepled his fingers. “That does cast significant doubt on the accusations against Franklin Kurita. Besides which, I believe he is currently commanding DCMS forces on Sverdlovsk - part of the wider campaign for Galedon V. Not precisely the position of someone attempting a coup.”
“We are not here to decide the succession of the Draconis Combine,” Danai pointed out. “What are the implications for the Star League?”
Wei held up her hand. “Elswick, what has happened since Shaffi left Iruzun?”
“A flood of messages from both Irurzun and two sources traveling across the Combine,” the head of DRUM’s analysts reported. “Usually with a similar list of recipients Angus Kurita is naturally seeking endorsement and support from the nobility and the military, while we can safely say that his opponents are doing the same. Chandrasekhar Kurita headed for Hachiman first, that being his personal stronghold, but we believe he will move on to join forces with Franklin shortly.”
“Not to make his own bid for power?” asked Morgan curiously.
Dahlia laughed quietly. “No.”
“You’re quite sure?”
“Absolutely. Unlike Angus Kurita, I have met Lord Chandrasekhar and while his palate is superb, he is entirely focused on enriching himself and the Combine. Make no mistake, he is a patriot, but he lacks the traditional military virtues and cannot even pretend to have them. He will be a valuable ally for Franklin, particularly because he could never amass the support to become a rival.”
Elswick nodded. “That is our own assessment. While Warlord Li Dok To is broadly conservative, he is also intensely loyal to Minoru Kurita and has an excellent working relationship with Franklin. It is unlikely that he will support an usurper.”
The commander of the SLDF smiled slightly. “A soldier of the old school. So Franklin will have economic and military support from Galedon military district.”
“At the moment, we believe that is largely going to be the case. Benjamin district is currently leaderless, with Warlord Petrov believed to be dead - likely each world and regiment will be deciding their loyalties on their own. The second source of messages is moving towards Dieron. Most probably this is Director Indrahar and it is likely he will have a warm welcome from Daniel Sorenson.”
“Then Angus’ faction is caught between Galedon and Dieron?”
“Not so clearly,” Elswick admitted. “Warlord Sorenson has a good hold on the rimwards worlds of Dieron military district, but the new Vega and Kessel prefecture are conservative strongholds and we expect the nobles and military forces there to support Angus Kurita - it is entirely possible that this is where the conspiracy sprang from. We expect the district to be a major conflict zone between the two sides.”
A war on Terra’s doorstep, and just as serious progress was being made against the Clans. Wei shook her head in despair. “What are the military implications?”
“It essentially removes all pressure from the Diamond Sharks and Ghost Bears,” admitted Hasek-Davion. “There have been reports from Task Force Ruby that DCMS regiments have ceased all action and are consolidated. Most likely they are preparing to pull back and take sides.”
“With the loss of the Alshain Avengers, is that a huge blow?”
“It depends on the mercenary contingent and the Shin Legion. It could be as much as a third of Task Force Ruby.” The marshal raked his long hair back. “Under the circumstances, I intend to issue orders disbanding the Task Force and rolling them into Task Force Emerald - we have to assume that their supply lines will be affected. For that matter, we cannot count on any supplies going through Dieron District now, so we’ll have to direct everything through the Isle of Skye.”
“And that also leaves us the problem of securing worlds already liberated,” Focht noted. “The Combine is hardly in a position to uphold their previous offer of protection to the Rasalhague government, perhaps not even to their own worlds in the salient.”
“I may have to reorganize a task group out of Emerald for that purpose,” Morgan agreed. “I see no option but for me to go there in person. If we can keep the Kungsarme, the Wolf Dragoons and the Shin Legion in position then we have the core of a force to cover that flank of our advance into the Wolf Occupation Zone. Even so, this is going to slow progress.”
Wei looked over at Danai. “Please ask your mother to put the issue of reaching out diplomatically to the Bears and Sharks to the Council. We cannot reasonably pursue military action against either Clan, so keeping them from taking advantage is our next best option.”
“I’ll do that,” the younger woman agreed. “But the question of which Coordinator casts the Combine’s vote may take precedence.”
The Triad, Tharkad
Donegal March, Federated Commonwealth
8 March 3059
While the Triad referred to the three main buildings of the royal court, there were hundreds of buildings, large and small, across the grounds. The Combine embassy was one of the larger ones, a guest house intended for visiting ducal houses. Save for the flag that flapped from the pole outside, it would have been hard to tell its current purpose - the presence of a member of House Kurita on Tharkad was tolerated but not popular.
It had been a long walk from Victor’s own quarters out here and the snow that had fallen along the way clung to his great-coat. His boots were coated in it and despite scraping them at the door, a servant politely forced slippers on him once he entered, whisking the boots away to dry somewhere.
He found Omi Kurita leaving her rooms, servants visible inside and packing her possessions away. “Victor,” she said quietly and closed the door behind her. “I wasn’t sure you would return from Melissia before I left.”
“Nor was I,” he admitted, drinking in her presence. Sorrow hung over her and he was reminded of his mother when he was a boy, when gramma Katrina was no longer with them. “I heard. I’m so sorry.”
Omi looked away. “Let’s find somewhere we won’t be in the way.”
She said nothing to him as they walked the short distance to one of the small lounges. Victor noted a few changes to the decorations, and realized that this room had already been stripped of the small reminders of home that Omi brought with her. “Are you going to Galedon?” he asked, hoping guiltily that she would not be heading for Hachiman: the industrial world had been raided by Angus Kurita’s forces and it was likely it would be the next battlefield between the two rival Coordinators.
“Dieron,” she said simply. “Franklin cannot be present there and someone must keep the prefectures from thinking they are fighting just for their new privileges. I am supposed to be Keeper of the House Honor but my duties here have left me little time for the Order of Five Pillars… I must take them in hand.”
“Daniel Sorenson is a good man. He is clever and he has principles.”
“And distant kin. House Sorenson’s ties to us go back to before the Star League.” She looked up at him and he saw the beginnings of tears. “But he is not a Kurita.”
Victor was halfway to extending an arm to her when she drew back and walked to one of the armchairs.
“I would offer to go with you, but we both know I can’t do that.” He went to the chair next to hers, angled so that they could easily look at each other.
“Your handling of the Nova Cats was well done,” Omi told him sincerely. “I think you will find that their ambitions make them a problem in the long run, but for now the Jade Falcons are your priority.”
“That’s true, but I was thinking more that Angus is appealing to those who are suspicious of the Star League. Having a Steiner-Davion fighting for him would likely taint Franklin in the eyes of your people.”
Omi closed her eyes, face pained. “You speak the truth.”
“I’m sorry,” Victor said, feeling the words inadequate.
“Do not apologize for a hard truth.” Omi paused and gathered herself. “My head tells me that you did what you must, that to think you would - much less should - place the Combine ahead of those you have sworn oaths to protect, is to commit to the same arrogance as the Black Dragons. That you would not be the man I care so much for if your duty did not drive you.”
He heard the implied but, and watched in silence as the usually eloquent Omi searched for words.
“My heart believes that had you not swayed the Star League to commit forces against the Wolves, Minoru’s position would have been stronger. That the Black Dragons would not have dared to strike a Coordinator who had seen the Bears crushed and the Diamond Sharks humbled.”
Victor opened his lips to speak, found no words. Closed them again.
Omi reached out and touched his hand briefly. “My heart is wrong, but it is hard.”
The prince tried to see it from her perspective. Imagined some fanatic blaming his parents for a large AFFC deployment to help the DCMS win back Luthien, of one or both of them choosing death over captivity. A shiver went through Victor. “I would probably feel the same way.”
She managed to smile. “And then there is a part of me that hurts twice over, because I am still drawn to you. How can I not love a man with such steel… and a heart of gold?”
Now Victor looked away, embarrassed. “I’ll do what I can for you. I can’t claim the credit, but mother has spoken to Duchess Aten and Duke Sandoval. The garrisons along the border are being spread out to cover against raids, at least near the prefectures that stand for Franklin. It should free more of their forces for him.”
Vega and Kessel were still a threat to the SLDF’s supply lines, but Dieron and Algedi stood strong for Minoru’s chosen successor. Across the border in Benjamin district, the Proserpina Hussars had seized their homeworld from attempts to sway them and proclaimed a Proserpina prefecture that Franklin had granted the same privileges he had to Sorenson’s reformists.
Rumor had it that An Ting and the worlds near it were pushing for the same under the lead of the surviving An Ting Legions. How Franklin handled that and any potential rift with Li Dok To would be critical to the stability of his fledgling government - An Ting was part of Galedon district and the Coordinator could not afford to alienate the warlord, but nor could he move against the reformists that were the core of his political support.
Of course, Franklin also couldn’t afford to alienate the Federated Commonwealth. He had already promised generous trade agreements that would open the autonomous prefectures to traders and other soft influence from Victor's realm. If he didn’t manage to resolve things quickly, more would likely be asked. Politely, but with a mailed fist held in reserve. Seizing Combine worlds might shatter the new Star League, but there was a point where that risk could be deemed worthwhile...
“Your parents want us to remain a bulwark against the Diamond Sharks,” Omi said evenly. Then she laughed darkly. “They are right to fear them - the Sharks are not only artists in warfare. Did you know the ISF still cannot determine if the O-Same is orchestrating the fighting around Galedon V or fighting other Clans beyond Pesht? They are learning the arts of government… and they will not be easily dislodged.” She drew her hand back from Victor’s “I do not think I will see Luthien again.”
“I’m sure that that’s part of the decision,” he admitted. “But sometimes the personal and the political do align. They both respect you and thought highly of Minoru.” Victor hesitated once. “My grandmother told me when I was young… I’d gotten into a fight with another boy.” He shrugged in embarrassment. “She told me that the golden age of the Star League was because the great lords learned that they didn’t need to fight with each other and that we didn’t deserve it back until we learned the same.”
Omi sat back in her seat and glanced up at the ceiling. “And here we are. Part of a new Star League.”
“Until that is forgotten again,” he allowed. “All I can offer is to rule my people when that time comes and try to pass that lesson on to the next generation.”
“And wisdom as well.” A tear crawled down her cheek. “Do you have to be so desirable, Victor?”
He rose to his feet, meaning to give her space but she also stood and then their arms were around each other. Omi was warm in Victor’s arms. He felt the salty tear against his own cheek and thought he could hear her heart beat as fast as his own.
Temptation dangled between them.
And they both stepped back, Omi’s smile sad but some of the darkness gone from her gaze.
“I have been told,” Victor said carefully, “That one’s first love is not always the last. My father lost his first love on the battlefield, long before he met my mother.”
She nodded. “I do not know how much of his heart my father gave to Franklin’s mother. Or her to him.”
“If our feelings cannot survive these partings or…” He gestured helplessly to indicate the complicated emotions she had confessed to. “Then public attention would certainly kill them.”
“There is no knowing if we will ever meet again.”
Victor nodded jerkily. “But if you need me, I’ll be with Task Force Emerald, a staff posting. ComStar will get word to me.”
Omi nodded in understanding. “Victor, whatever we feel in the future, I want you to know…”
He looked at her questioningly, and then her arms were around him again. Her lips touched his, pressed against them and in the searing heat of the moment he almost crushed her against him, tried to hold onto her against all the pressures of the universe.
Then she released him and he knew that she knew. Breathless, he watched her whirl and flee the room. Afraid, as he was, that otherwise they might forget all reason, all caution…
Victor Steiner-Davion straightened his collar and checked his reflection in a small mirror to make sure there was no obvious evidence to betray them, before going to collect his boots. Perhaps the cold of Tharkad’s weather would chill the heat of his passions to something that he could carry with him without it boiling over. “From what I’ve tasted of desire…” he murmured to himself as he walked, then chastised himself for giving voice to those thoughts.
-
Orbit, Arc-Royal
Donegal March, Federated Commonwealth
1 April 3059
Horse was, for once, looking shocked as he eyed the holotank in the middle of the command deck. “Everyone on this side of the Inner Sphere decided to use Arc-Royal as a staging post, quiaff?
The display showed the entire system and there were dozens of icons that marked entire flotillas rather than individual vessels. “Or a rallying point, or a supply base… And some simply came here because it is home,” Aidan pointed out, indicating a little cluster of dropships heading for the planet from the zenith jump point. The small fleet was marked with the black and red badge of the Kell Hounds mercenary regiment.
The Turkina’s Pride had arrived via a proximity point, a risk that it was clear few jumpships were willing to take, followed by an escort of warships and transports for the rest of the Gyrfalcon Galaxy. They didn’t have the only warships in the system though.
“My khan,” the commtech reported respectfully. “We have not been able to make contact with Khan Mattlov on the system. However, Khan Cooper of Clan Snow Raven is requesting that we use our HPG to contact him.”
Aidan looked at where the Snow Raven naval star was moving away from Arc-Royal, apparently attempting an intercept on one of the inbound convoys. “Respond,” he ordered quietly. It seemed almost wasteful to use an HPG to communicate within a single star system but the distance between the two Clans’ forces was measured in light minutes and it would be far more convenient not to work around those delays.
“You are live, my Khan.”
Aidan turned to the screen. “Khan Cooper. I see the situation has changed here since the last report to reach me, quiaff?”
The junior khan of Clan Snow Raven laughed grimly. “What did you last hear?”
“A wave of attacks hitting worlds from New Capetown to Garrison,” Aidan replied. Those worlds covered most of the border between the Federated Commonwealth and the Jade Falcons. There was also the pocket of worlds against what had once been the Steel Viper Occupation Zone, but they were entirely irrelevant: he and Khan Mattlov had agreed that the garrison forces there would be needed elsewhere so they’d recalled the galaxy stationed there to take over the job of defending Twycross and the border with Clan Wolf.
Arc-Royal was one jump beyond the attacks, which suggested that they were now facing a second wave of attacks. “We are facing a new wave of attacks by the Federated Commonwealth and their allies, quiaff?”
Cooper grimaced. “A little worse than that. There are two clusters of Nova Cats on Arc-Royal.”
“Right now I would take help from a Steel Viper.”
The look he got from the other Khan told him that this was not good news. “Take a look at this.” The khan’s face was cut off by the emblem of Clan Nova Cat. “You see what is wrong, quiaff?”
Aidan frowned. There was something different about it, but he could not put his finger on it.
“The nova around the cat’s head,” Horse exclaimed. “It’s like the sunburst of the Federated Commonwealth!”
“Exactly like it,” Cooper confirmed. “The Nova Cats have defected!”
Aidan paled. That could not be true. It was… unthinkable. What could possibly have been offered to any Clan that would be worth breaking the unity?
“Sargasso,” hissed Horse. “I thought it was a coincidence that they claimed the Steel Viper enclave there right as the Inner Sphere attacked the Vipers, but if it was coordinated then they could have been working with them the whole time.”
“Why would they ever do that?” Aidan exclaimed. “It makes no sense.”
“If you do not believe me then ask your warriors on the planet. But ask quickly, your Vau Galaxy is being mauled.”
Aidan gestured to indicate surrender. “I do not challenge you, Khan Cooper. It is simply… hard to comprehend. And we have not yet -” He looked over at the commtech who shook his head in failure. “- heard from Khan Mattlov.”
Cooper’s face reappeared. “I have not heard from her in three days. I suspect that the reason is simple.”
“The dead do not use radios,” Aidan concluded. He turned to the commtech. “Forget reaching Vau Galaxy’s headquarters. Reach out to their Star Colonels - to Star Captains if you have to.”
“I have contact,” Diana told him from where she had taken over one of the stations around the holo display. Aidan could hear a mix of pride at being ahead of him mixed with sobriety at the circumstances. “Star Colonel Evak Mattlov, this is Turkina’s Pride. The Gyrfalcons are in orbit, what is your situation?”
Evak Mattlov, that meant the Fourth Falcon Velites. Aidan recalled that the man was one of Angelina Mattlov’s proteges, elevated to lead the Velites in her place when she rose to lead Peregrine Galaxy. A proud man who might rise to take over the Peregrines if the Khan chose not to remain in direct command of them. He knew Jezebel Pryde was hoping for that, if only because she had a good chance to lead the Cluster if it happened.
The channel crackled for a moment and Aidan had just long enough to wonder if Diana had made a mistake before Evak’s voice came through.
“-kina’s Pride, this is St- … -nel Mattlov. We are delta-g- … -peat, delta-golf.”
A shiver went down Aidan’s spine at the words. The code was almost as old as their Clan, so old the exact meaning had been lost. But the essence survived: delta-golf meant that whoever gave the code was facing annihilation.
He was at Diana’s side almost before he knew it. “Mattlov, I have an entire galaxy here.” Signal tracing pointed at a location near the southern edge of Gerechtland, the smallest of the planet’s continents. “Can you give me a full sitrep for the Peregrines?”
Mattlov coughed, the sound crackling and breaking as the technician tried to clear up the signal. “Eighth Regulars got caught between the Nova Cats and some Free Worlds force I don’t know about. Legionnaires, if that helps. They are chasing us down. I have not heard from Fourth Talon or the Striker Clusters since the Khan was killed. Our satellites are down and I do not have access to undersea cables to Gutheim.”
Gutheim was the larger continent, where the important factories and the planetary capital were. Where Angelina Mattlov would logically have been headquartered. “Can you confirm that, Evak? Is there any chance the Khan is still fighting?”
“I did not see the body but Devinnia Guili would not lie,” the Star Colonel responded flatly.
Aidan nodded grimly. That meant that he was in command of the Clan. Under better circumstances that would be thrilling. Right now, he had inherited a crisis. “You have access to dropships, quineg?”
“Neg,” Mattlov admitted bleakly. “And sea transport would be too slow.”
“Have Taman pull his troops out of their dropships,” Aidan ordered Horse. “We can cram them into the Pride. Evak, we will send down our dropships with aerospace cover to get you out.”
“That wou- … -reciated.” Evak Mattlov’s signal crackled and broke off again for a moment. “Pryde,” he continued, once the channel was clearer. “We have had no news from offworld in days. I thought the entire Clan was delta-golf. I only hope you are not the disgrace that Jezebel believes.”
“We will get in touch with rendezvous details,” Aidan promised and looked back to where Khan Cooper was still on the main screen.
“I am not in position to help you,” the Snow Raven said bluntly. “I suspect the convoy we are after was calculated to draw us out of position but there are four warships with them. That is not a threat we can ignore.”
“Agreed.” There was no point trying to keep Cooper from the most glorious battle his lineage had faced in a hundred years. “Once you are victorious, or if they break off,” Aidan was no great naval expert but he knew that in such a high speed engagement either side could avoid action easily, at a cost of taking a vector well away from their original destination, “make for the Antares zenith jump point: that will be our main path of retreat.”
“An obvious choice,” warned Cooper.
“I know. But if the Nova Cats focus there, then those who cannot reach Antares have a chance to use less obvious routes.” The old SLDF star charts provided many uninhabited systems that could be used for jumpships to recharge as they crossed the Nova Cat Occupation Zone. Unfortunately, the Nova Cats had the same charts.
Cooper frowned. “Perhaps wise,” he allowed. “Do you have any further instructions?”
“You know better than I how to fight a naval battle. I will count on you.”
The other Khan’s image vanished and a moment later, Aidan saw that his own camera was off.
“So we are leaving?” Horse asked.
“Arc-Royal is lost,” Aidan replied simply. “Try to contact the other clusters of Peregrine Galaxy, we will need to extricate them if possible.”
“Right, get on with that Diana,” his old friend ordered.
Aidan had disbanded the original Turkina Keshik as part of the reorganization after Crichell’s death, citing the need for experienced officers to lead the new crop of young warriors. But with Crichell no longer around to micromanage the Clan and its holdings, he could no longer command the Gyrfalcon Guards as well as the galaxy and carry out his duties as Khan. Say what you would about the older khan, he had been a very capable administrator.
Horse led the new Keshik, a single supernova trinary with Aidan and Diana each commanding a star. The other twelve mechwarriors and the seventy-five elementals had been chosen from older warriors to act as Aidan’s staff. “You have something in mind, Aidan?”
Aidan gave his daughter a nod to carry on the mission that had been delegated to her. “Try to establish contact with Clan Nova Cat’s forces,” he ordered the commtech.
“You hope they will offer hegira, quiaff?” Horse asked before answering his own questions: “If they do seek our annihilation then it is unlikely.”
“It costs nothing to try and they are no more immune to arrogance than we are.”
It was several minutes' wait and Aidan studied the spinning globe of Arc-Royal in the meantime. Kael Pershaw’s people were doing their usual good work, collating reports and data intercepts to paint an image of the forces deployed.
Gerechtland bore markers indicating elements of Clan Nova Cat’s Sigma Galaxy and of the First Free Worlds Legionnaires. The purple bird would have indicated their allegiance if the name had not. Despite centuries of enmity with House Steiner, the Captain-General had sent forces to fight for them. This new Star League had substance! Aidan silently cursed Crichell’s caution and his own slow pace in dealing with it.
“My Khan.” The technician caught his attention. “I have a Star Colonel Santin West who is willing to speak to you.”
Aidan raised an eyebrow at that. Most Star Colonels, even of another Clan, would be excited to have the attention of a Khan. But West was merely ‘willing’ to speak to him? “How generous of him. Put him through.”
The face and shoulders of a mustachioed elemental in Nova Cat field fatigues appeared in the holotank. His eyes were sharp and Aidan set any hope for foolishness aside. “Star Colonel,” he greeted the man.
“Khan Pryde.” West replied neutrally. “I do not believe that you or your forces were bid by Khan Mattlov to defend Arc-Royal.”
“And I did not believe that Clan Nova Cat had contracted to be bid by the Federated Commonwealth, but I admit my error.”
West reached up with one hand and stroked his mustache. “If you seek safcon to join the fighting, I must disappoint you. And nor will I offer hegira. My orders are clear.”
“I am aware that not all Clans hold our traditions in such respect as we Jade Falcons,” Aidan allowed. “But there is one question that I must pose: Why are you fighting for the Inner Sphere?”
Santin West stared at Aidan for a moment and then smiled slightly. “Perhaps the better question, Khan Pryde, is: why are you fighting against the Star League?” Then he cut the channel, leaving Aidan staring at the blank display.
“Aidan?” Horse asked after a moment. “Are you alright?”
“I am just… thinking.”
“You cannot join the Nova Cats in this madness, quineg?”
He shook his head slightly. “Neg, the Clan Council would kill me - and rightly so. No, but perhaps I have been looking at this the wrong way…”
Aidan’s old friend sighed and looked over at Diana. “Find something to hold onto,” he warned the younger officer. “When your father is like this, there is no predicting what he is up to.”
Aidan chuckled. “I will need to do some planning. For now,” his voice sharpened as ideas fell into… not into place, but into a shape that suggested where they would need to be. “Contact every unit we can by HPG and have them spread the word Fighting on these worlds, surrounded by the Nova Cats and the Federated Commonwealth, will accomplish nothing. Our touman will withdraw into the other half of our Occupation Zone where we can refit and prepare for the future.”
“You have a plan, quiaff?” asked Diana. There was hope in her voice, a search for belief that their Clan could survive this crisis. “The Nova Cats will give them free passage, so it does not buy much time.”
“I have the beginnings of a plan,” he admitted to his daughter. “I only need a little time.” Aidan turned and looked at the markers of units scattered across the system. “If it works, then we can rise from this reverse, like a phoenix from the fires of its own demise.”
Horse scratched his chin, looking dubious. “And if it does not work?”
“Oh, in that case we are all doomed,” Aidan said cheerfully. “Since that is what we face already, there is nothing to lose, quiaff?”
“I must be crazy,” the freeborn admitted. “Because that made sense to me!”
“Start checking our supply bases,” the Khan continued. “Any that we have lost control of are to be targeted for orbital bombardment. I will not leave them to be used against us.” Millions of tons of equipment and consumables that could have been used to seize Tharkad, to seize the momentum… Part of Aidan screamed at the waste, but there was no way that the material could be recovered, only denied to others.
-
Damn, Victor and Omi will not be together. I guess it was to be expected though, OTL with fairly stable succession within Combine, their relationship could be tenuously possible, TTL the obstacles proved insurmountable and they are too dutiful to just abscond.
Millions of tons of supplies on Arc Royal, while some of it was produced in Inner Sphere, just how many of it had to be shipped all the way from Homeworlds? Given the capacities of cargo dropships, this must have occupied Falcon and contracted Raven shipping for quite some time. And it's not like they will be able to save much from the depots still under their control, both due to limited dropship space and issues of loading and securing cargo in combat dropships.
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This is gonna get ugly for the Clans. FedCom RCTs or even units like the FWL Legionnaires that have organic armor and infantry support have a preponderance of firepower over Clan clusters but lack mobility. With the Nova Cats now serving on the front lines, you have the classic hammer + anvil combo: Nova Cat clusters prosecute and pursue while using the RCT in massed formations to hammer strategic targets on a given world.
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Damn, Victor and Omi will not be together. I guess it was to be expected though, OTL with fairly stable succession within Combine, their relationship could be tenuously possible, TTL the obstacles proved insurmountable and they are too dutiful to just abscond.
I can see one way they could still end up together - if the reactionaries defeat Franklin, but Omi survives and goes into exile in the FedCom. Let´s hope it doesn´t come to that, though.
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It is interesting that while Minoru was slowly implementing changes to the Combine in order to best harness the Dragon's strengths to repel the Diamond Sharks and Ghost Bears, the Black Dragons are now basically forcing Franklin to make far greater and wider reaching reforms. They hated the papercuts so signed up for amputations instead. Also, having had to suffer the Combine take over large portions of the FedSuns for "plot" all these years, it's nice to see the Combine being turned into a second rate power for a change. I hate it had to happen to Minoru but the Kuritans have had this coming for a long long time.
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For a minute there, I thought West broke a khan... ;D
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These are some interesting complications.
Keep up the good work!