The Bull and the Genie

[Daryk]

Oooo... it's back!  And with a twist!  8)

[idea weenie]

This could be fun for Kamea.  If Kamea lets the Directorate announce that Kamea murdered Cheng and then Kamea appears with Cheng at her side, that will cause a lot of very interesting questions to be asked.

Especially if Cheng is able to talk to her bosses in the Taurian Concordat directly.

[Artifex]

Not sure if I should mention this, but ... this story is posted on SpaceBattles too and over there is far more progressed?  ???

[Blade4]

Greatly progressed. Like at least two arcs ahead iirc.

[Daryk]

Well, I hope it comes here then!  :thumbsup:

[Korzon77]

Interlude:

I’m not certain if this is a good idea, Edward Calderon thought.  Stabilizing the Reach was important, but after the bombing they had no actual skilled foreign policy people there and were depending on the advice of a newly frocked brigadier.

Well, mostly not listening to her advice. The Concordat had been willing to accept the way that Espinoza came to power, since it gave them someone to talk to, but evidently, he was having severe issues understanding that you needed to know when to stop shooting and start talking.  Cheng’s messages had shown increasing irritation at how the Espinoza regime was alienating the people and boosting support for the rebels.

And the moment they sent the RCT in, they’d be directly backing him—or more probably taking over directly.

It had the scent of desperation, and worse, Edward hadn’t been with his father when Shraplen’s faction had raised the possibility of the Federated Suns moving in if the region fell into disorder.

Edward was more concerned with the Capellans, but not his father, and so the unit was moving in. No doubt, in the minds of some, to eventually simply absorb the Reach.

“Sir?’

“Nothing,” Edward said. “Just some messages from home. Go on.”

“Very well, Sir,” The officer pulled out his com and said: “Drill is go!”

They were looking at a network of low buildings, narrow streets seperating them, with little sensor and laser emitters simulating dug in troops. And then, several hover craft came zooming up, bulky figures holding on to bars, before they jumped out, soaring through the sky before they came down. Some were using machine guns, while others were using grenade launchers, clearing buildings and in some cases, just going through them. The mobility was impressive.

“They’re based on some of the designs from the core, but well, the camouflage systems are a bit beyond what we can do. Four hundred kilograms, with a modular fitting for a support weapon. We also have an engineering model with a special cargo pack.” The officer gestured at the movements with pride. “They have better sensors than most infantry, can jump, and even better, have extensive protection from personal weapons and artillery fragments.”

“Weaknesses?”

“More training, and they don’t save you if you get hit by a mech weapon, not head on, but, positive side, sir, while I expect this’ll first be for elite strike units, give us the funding and we can eventually equip our entire infantry force with this, which will send casualties way down.”

“And your other promises?”

“Yeah…’ the officer deflated. “That was our engineers being optimistic. Medium and heavy armor runs into scaling problems. They’re too big to just fit your arms and legs in the armor's arms and legs, which causes problems, especially since it’s easy to you know, shatter your arms and legs.  The models they have can walk, and even jump… In a lab. With a  test pilot. But between control difficulties and material issues, I’m not confident. But they have another idea. If you’ll come with me…”

A few minutes later, Edward was staring at a four-legged framework that was running around a track, a single pilot sitting in it.

“We already have mule transporters, and one of our men was a logistics officer who used them. Now his point is pretty good—we want the bigger frames to carry support weapons, not get into knife-fights, so… Use a frame that can fit a, um, armor cockpit in it, and use that.”

“Any drawbacks?”

“Less internal space, mainly. But it’ll still be able to carry heavy weapons and keep up with the powered armors.”

“And in a city, they’ll need that.”

“Yes. Now, the engineers have a similar idea for humanoid support armor—make it big enough and you can fit a cramped cockpit in there, which eliminates the issue with shattered limbs, but it has its own issues.”

Edward frowned, then nodded. “Can you do both?”

“Sir?”

“If we have enough engineers with clearance, we can at least build to prototypes to test against each other.”

“Yes, Sir. Pity this isn’t going to be ready for Tortuga.”

“We wouldn’t use it even if it was,” Edward said. “I’m not going to show this off until we can show it off as it was intended—not a few commando units, but a full company per infantry brigade, at least.”

“Yes, sir.”

I may not be as fearful of the Davion’s as my father, but I’m not stupid. To most house lords, it can be easier to take than it is to buy—so we have to make certain it’s cheaper to deal honestly with us. Come to think of it, his other weapon should be getting deployed right about now…


The Coventry Metal Works boardroom could have been any room in Samantha, save for the vista of the snow-covered mountains beyond the city.

The board of directors were facing Jacob, all of them focusing on the Tuarian representative. “The license terms for your new water purification systems are unusual. Normally, payment would be in C-bills, for example.”

“That’s true, but it is our intent to invest heavily in partnerships with Lyran businesses. Payment in Kroner makes that easier.” And means you don’t have to worry about us casually moving money out of your economy.  Not that anyone would be crass enough to bring that up.

“I have to admit, your engineers did a bang-up job,” Samantha Burgess, head of their engineering department said. “A single unit, including water purification systems, and an integral power plant, simple, menu-driven maintenance systems… It may not be, on paper, as efficient as a stand alone system, but stand alone systems can't just be dropped off and started up in a few hours.”

“The profits, especially from the more backward worlds, will be immense,” Another man said. “Especially for those willing to think in the long-term. I note that you have included a clause that you cannot be directly consulted regarding trade with the Davion’s.”

“The embargo makes it illegal for any Taurian corporation to trade directly with the Federated Suns. You’ll note that the contract does not bind you in the same way.”

“Yes, I think we can all agree with that. Now the second proposal, your militiamech, there’s some concern there. It seems…”

“Primitive? Like a toy?” Jacob asked. “Not a battlemech?”

“Er, all of the above.”

“Good. It’s not intended to be one.” He touched the holo controls and the small mech appeared. “The Guardian isn’t designed to fight an army. It’s designed for raiders. And we have a great deal of experience with Raiders.”

Nobody gainsayed him.

“So why does it have a fuel cell? Why is it equipped with industrial armor? Why does it include rocket launchers?  Because gentlemen and ladies, battlemechs in a militia attract raiders. Maybe they can take one intact enough to use. At the very least, the spare parts, the armor, the tooling, can be used by a raider band. And yet…the Guardian has none of that. Its fire control system is incompatible with real battlemechs. Its rockets are one shot. It’s onboard weapons can be obtained elsewhere. Its fuel cell system cannot be used to replace the fusion plant in a raider mech. Any raider who gets into fights with this, will take damage—damage they cannot repair via scavenging.”

“But can it provide enough of a barrier to a raider?”

“Four, 20 cell rocket launchers. At point blank range, those will make even a heavy mech pay attention and can be quickly reloaded by an external crew. Two machine guns.  A LRM 5 launcher, which can be teamed up with other units to provide long range fire support or smoke. Alternately, it can be replaced by a medium laser.” Jacob paused. “Best of all, it uses no critical components and no components on the Lyran Trade Authority’s Restricted Export List. Lastly…” He touched a button and the weapon racks fell away to show the skeleton, which was now mounting foam tanks and firefighting equipment. “The Guardian can be fitted out in a short period  for any one of a number of duties. Unlike many current militia mechs and vehicles, the Guardian, when there is no call to war, is not just left sitting useless in a garage somewhere. And when the call to war does come—even a poor planet could field companies of guardians where the most inexpensive battlemech would only come in lances.”

“Even if we don’t sell many,” one man said. “You could dump the total possible losses into the water purifier profits and not even notice.”

“Mechs are a prestige item,” another man, this one from marketing muttered. “We don’t sell them as mechs—we well them as a common man’s defender.”

“But we don’t completely ignore the linkage,” a woman said. “After all, it may not be a mech, but it feels like a mech—oh, when we build the first prototypes, we should ship them around at the various planetary fairs! Let militia officers and their families take rides on them!”

Jacob leaned back. He knew this was going to happen, since the deal had been agreed to privately. But taking a deal because you needed it for something else, and taking a deal because you thought it was a good deal…

Edward was going to be very happy.

[Korzon77]

Making Deals, Taking Risks
Mary was in pain. The painkillers they’d dosed her with had worn off and her arm was letting her know that, as was every other bruise on her body.

Flip side, it was no worse than any other soldier—you didn’t want to dose up a casualty to the point where they couldn’t tell you if something else was going wrong.

And the Canopian combat medical kit they had used on her was actually better than what the TDF had. They had also forgone binding both her arms, probably due to the broken arm, but her legs were securely tied and her unbroken arm was secured to the seat in the little APC.

Nobody was talking to her.

Then after about forty minutes, they stopped, and a hood was put on her head. Mary didn’t protest. It was common practice and the way it was done, combined with the medical care, indicated these were professionals.

And I am happy for that. Civilians had an ugly habit of flipping all the way from ‘don’t fight’ to ‘kill them all.’

The soldiers moved her from the APC outside, the sound of moving men and machines around her, and then they were in some kind of installation, cermacrete under her feet. A few minutes later, and Mary was roughly sat down on a bench and the hood was pulled away from her.

The room was bare, save for the bench, a table, and someone sitting at the other side, a light obscuring Mary’s view. She blinked.

“Brigadier Cheng. I had not expected such a prize, especially delivered in such an… unusual way.”

“Well, I’ll have unkind things to say about Victoria’s fire discipline, Lady Arano.”

“You know me?”

“I listened to your speeches.”

“Good, then you know I am the rightful heir, and now that you have been betrayed by Lord Espinoza…”

“I can go and tell my troops to turn on him?” Mary paused. “You do know that if I did that, nobody would ever—ever trust the Concordat again. Not even a tiny world being assaulted by pirates would let us help, because they couldn’t trust our word.”

“You would remain allied with those who tried to kill you?”

“I didn’t say that. But I have a higher duty to the Concordat. A duty higher than my own life.”

Another man came in and whispered to Arano.

“Yes,” she said. “Understand this, you can only work to save your men.  We were preparing for an attack—Lord Espinoza’s actions and demands have scattered both his and your forces, as was our intent.”

Great, Arano spent a day studying strategy.  Better than Espinoza.

“And now,” she continued. “Much of your unit is still looking for you. If you work with us, I will attempt to ensure that none of your forces garrisoning the city are harmed unduly when the uprising is launched. I will not lie, it would help us as well. Some of our forces are not in place, but when the enemy commander is dropped into our laps by our true enemy’s actions…”

Mary paused. Now was the time when the heroic captain’s loyal allies kicked the door in.

The door remained closed.

“And what then?”

“What do you mean. We will restore the Coalition!”

“That’s not a plan, that’s a goal.”  Mary paused. “The reason we were backing Espinoza was that we could talk to him. Your father came to us with agreements, then had to go back on them, and it was starting to look like we might head for a war. Now here you are, telling me you want to re-establish the Coalition, with Canopian support, and no sign that things will be any better for us.”

“Losing our freedoms to make deals would destroy the Coalition. I will not do that.”

Oh. God. She’s actually younger than I am.  Mary stared at the woman, and the man next to her, probably a merc. Maybe an adviser from the Magistracy. But…

“What would having a regimental combat team dropped on your head do to the Coalition?” Mary asked, tossing about ninety percent of her orders involving “don’t do that’ into the trashbin.

“What?”

“You’re not the only one upset with Espinoza. Right before I left, I received orders to prepare for the arrival of five regiments, four infantry and armor, one mech regiment. I also received orders to prepare for the temporary detention of Directorate officials.”

“And you say  you would not betray an ally!”

“We’re not betraying them. We’d just be keeping them safe, in a room that doesn’t have any outgoing communications.” Mary paused. “And if that unit gets here to see you in combat with our ‘peacekeeping’ force, or worse yet, on the throne with them being dead—well ask your advisers. What are your chances of standing off the Concordat, because the Concordat cannot be seen to have lost. If they felt they could, I would be on my way back right now.”

“How interesting that this invasion occurs right after I tell you of my plans.”

“Well, I needed a little encouragement to commit what could be considered treason.” Mary sighed. “Check the spaceport. No orders, but they’re holding the heavy berths in readiness. You know how much that costs.  Hell, ask your Canopian supporters to get you any information on our troop movements.”

“Why are you doing this?”

Mary leaned forward, her arm pulsing with low pain. “Because the TDF can’t win.  You have the loyalty of the people, and Espinoza managed to destroy his popularity because the man can’t seem to understand you can’t shoot every problem.  We’ll come, we’ll land, and people will shoot at us. And we’ll shoot back, and eventually, because this is a money sink, the Concordat will annex the worlds we want and leave—but you’ll have no military, and likely not much of an industry left. Just another periphery state that rose up and then became a pirate’s playground.” Mary stared at the woman. “Like my world was. I wouldn’t wish that on my worst enemy and the people of the Reach aren’t my worst enemy.”

“So why do you trust Lady Arano?” The man by her said.

“Well, I don’t. But, I do know that Lord Espinoza has not impressed me. I also know that you didn’t attack civilians, or jam people into cages. Which means that the people don’t hate you. I also assume that you’re intelligent enough to realize that while we don’t really care what you do internally, you have to be able to negotiate with us regarding those worlds, or you’ll end right back where you started.”

“What do you propose?” Arano said.

“The only way that RCT doesn’t come here, or just goes home, is if there’s no civil war. We’ve got less than two weeks to wrap that up.”

“And how can we do that?”

“Well, I was thinking, with your assistance, of locking you, me, and Lord Espinoza in a small room and negotiating our way out of this mess.” Mary paused. “And given that your forces were close enough to rescue me, I assume you have some battleroms, right?”

“Yes.”

“Then I have a tool that may convince Lord Espinoza to listen. The Concordat would be vastly more tolerant of an accidental weapons mis-fire than it would be an assassination attempt, and Espinoza does love his daughter.”

“So,” the nameless man by Lady Arano said. “What do you think the Concordat is going to say to you?”

“It’s probably going to depend on how this turns out.” Which means I have a really, really good reason to hope this turns out well. After all, Mary didn’t want to take up a lifetime career of making little rocks out of big rocks…

[Daryk]

That's an interesting development...  8)

[Korzon77]

In a way, convincing Lady Arano hadn’t been that hard. She listened to her merc advisers, and they had a few words, mostly euphemisms for “you lose, badly” about what would happen if a RCT got dropped on their head.

And Mary had recorded a message, one that offered Lady Arano safe passage, even if the agreement wasn’t made. She had a feeling that went right to the Canopians. They could disavow her, Mary knew, but it’d still cost them. Enough to convince the rebels that she, at least was serious about this.

Enough to convince them to let her get in touch with Thomas, which was why she was wearing a ridiculous dress, complete with bonnet. After all, her coming back to life was supposed to be a surprise.

But the city was on lockdown. Dusk to Dawn curfews were in effect, and police checkpoints were at every corner. It took Mary nearly half the day to work her way though to a Taurian Checkpoint.

“Ma’am, I’m sorry, but this is a security—“

“Force Sergeant Michaels.” Mary pulled the bonnet back, looking up at him.

“I—Ma’am, but you’re—“

“Take me into custody,” she whispered. “I’m just someone you’re suspicious of.”

“Yes—I mean, Jenks, take the civilian into custody. I think the XO will want to talk to her.”

And with that, she was yanked into the perimeter, the police unawares.

“Brigadier, what happened?”

“Victoria decided she liked you better as a commander,” Mary said. “Hit me from the rear. I have the Roms.”

“Damn…” Thomas shook his head. “What is your plan?”

“I had a long talk with Lady Arano. First of all, what’s the ETA on our reinforcements?”

“I yelled. They’re still hung up. This has played merry hell with the Tortugan theater, so right now they’re trying to see if they can pry some defensive units loose, but evidently, there’s worry about the Davions and the local militias… Yeah. It isn’t good, but we’ll get them.”

“Not if we’re lucky.” Mary said. “Pull all of our units in. Also, inform Lord Espinoza that we’ve found evidence his security is compromised. Lady Arano is going to try for a simultaneous decapitation strike coupled with a general uprising.” 

“She is?”

“Not if we’re lucky, but he needs to believe it, because we’re the only reliable force. I want you to suggest, as strongly as possible, but he needs Taurian soldiers and mechs standing watch. After all, we’re not in a position to grab the throne, not like the noble houses.”

“Ma’am… is there something you’re not telling me.”

“A lot of somethings.” Mary sighed. “Thomas. I’m your CO. What I’m doing isn’t… technically violating general orders. But it may go bad. In that case, all the shit needs to fall on me.”

“Well… Anything to fix this ******. I trust you.”

“Good. Don’t worry, if this goes wrong, you’ll be able to work with me without any concerns—I’ll be the best trained private in the TDF.”

With that, Mary stayed in the HQ, avoiding anyone else. Thomas, some of her command staff and the checkpoint guards had seen her, but they were… dependable.

She waited, and then Thomas came back to her. “It’s done. He’ll be moving the royal mechs out to hold the perimeter. But they can get back quickly.”

“Doesn’t matter. This will either be done quickly, or not at all. We need to pick some people  up on the way to the palace.”

They took the APC (bombs were common enough now that nobody drove in civilian vehicles), and drove through the empty streets, stopping at one small diner, to allow three people to come in.

Thomas’ eyes widened at them, but he remained silent.


Santiago hurried through the corridors, accompanied by his daughter. The Taurians had gone from looking for their lost commander, to forting up in the city, expecting something. The information they had sent…

Did it work. Did our gamble succeed? The Taurians were infuriated by the death of their leader, and that could have gone so terribly wrong, but now they would stay and he could hold the Directorate. He could…

He came to a halt as he entered the throne room. There was someone on the throne. A figure in a brightly colored dress, leaning forward, bonnet obscuring her face.

Then she leaned back and pulled the bonnet off.

“Hello, Lord Espinoza, Lady Victoria. I regret to say that your aim needs some work.”

And suddenly Santiago was aware that everyone in the castle, save for a tiny cadre of his most loyal guards, were Taurians, and if they knew what Victoria had done…

They were probably infuriated, just not at the right people.

“If you don’t mind, my officers will take your guards and your firearms,” she said. “I don’t want any unfortunate incidents to interrupt our discussion.”

Santiago gestured to his guards. They were wearing formal uniforms. The Taurians were wearing combat armor, and quickly and politely divested him of his weapons.

Then a door opened and…

“Kamea?” he said.

“Hello, Uncle.”

“She is, of course also disarmed.”

“And you are our queen?” Victoria asked. “That is not your throne!”

“You know, I wonder what you were planning. Why kill me?” Cheng asked.

“You were about to leave. The communications we intercepted, the way you were hanging back, it was pla—“

Cheng cut him off by laughing. “Oh, God,” she said. “How many times did you get two plus two equals five in school? No, Lord Espinoza, I wasn’t getting ready to leave. My orders, which you obviously didn’t get, were to stand by for a regimental combat team to land and to prepare to detain a list of people—including you and your daughter.” She tilted her head. “I wouldn’t be sitting on this throne, but some Taurian might be.”

“You—You betrayed us?”

“No. But surprisingly enough, we came here because you promised order, and the only thing we’ve seen is disorder. You made plans. Lady Arano made plans, but so did Richard Cameron. Like him, you haven’t made good plans, and well, here we are. I’ll say to you what I said to Lady Arano. We will come. Your people will fight. They will lose on the battlefield, but they’ll keep fighting and one day, we’ll get tired. Maybe we annex the Reach. Maybe we have a war over it with the Magistracy—and you can bet we’ll both keep the war confined here. Maybe we get tired, and after years of fighting have left you hopelessly fractured, we leave you to the pirates and Great Houses.”

“I do not believe you enjoy gloating,” Santiago said.

“No. The one way we get out of this with the Reach intact is to make an agreement. Here. Now.” Mary gestured at the third individual she’d picked up. “Precentor Jarrus has agreed, in the interest of fostering peace, to upon the conclusion of our meetings, send a priority transmission to both Canopus and Taurus, and add it to Comstar’s diplomatic database so that all can see this was conducted with the utmost honesty.”

“You expect me to work with him?” Kamea said.

“It was you who refused to accept what was needed, father—“

“Ahem!” Mary said. “Remember that Stephen Amaris didn’t compromise, and where is the Rim Worlds Republic today?”

I can still recover something from this wreck. But I must work with her. She has the whiphand, and if she is not lying… “What do you suggest?”

“Lord Espinoza, the people hate you. If you stay, you will be seen as a Taurian puppet, and to be blunt, you’ll likely be dependent on our good will, so…”

“I see.”

“Father, we can rebuild the Reach, we don’t need them!”

“Really? When your own supporters have turned on you?” Kamea asked.

“What would you suggest?” Santiago asked.

“The relationship between the Magistracy and the Reach remains important. I would suggest you could serve as an ambassador on Canopus.”

Exile in all but name, watched all the time. But alive, and an Ambassador would have… some influence. Little for now, but that could grow. And yet…

“What of Lady Victoria?”

“As I understand it, she was groomed to be an adviser for Lady Arano. Let her stay.”

“WHAT?” Victoria and Kamea’s shriek rose.

“It’d be the best way to assure the various houses you’re not intending a campaign of vengeance, to leave Lady Victoria to advise Lady Kamea and run your holdings in Lord Espinoza’s absence. Also, you keep Lord Espinoza’s external and military reforms.”

Santiago stared at the woman. I underestimated you.  The thing he’d overthrown the Coalition for, the ability to be a powerful independent nation, was on the table. The military reforms would leave none able to oppose the head, and the ability to negotiate would keep them from falling into a war.

Here was his dream and yet… None would ever see him as the author. It would be Lady Kamea Arano who would reap the benefits. They’d probably call her “Good Lady Arano” or some such foolishness.  The girl who worked to overthrow the tyrant Espinoza and then was merciful to him.

And yet… If he refused, all he feared would come to pass. Victoria would fight—if he told her to charge across the room and try to complete her mission, she would… and she would die, and never consider that such a gesture had accomplished nothing.

And so the trap closes. He snorted. “You are wasted in the military.” He told Cheng. “Will you give me your personal word that you did not arrange for some later vengeance to fall upon my daughter or my house?”

“Why? Sometimes mechs have fire control issues. As for the other, I can merely say that with this agreement broadcast, any attempt at vengeance would see serious diplomatic consequences for Taurus.”

“Ah, yes. And your Protector, what will he say?”

“I’m… certain he’ll agree with this.” For a moment Cheng looked nervous.

You didn’t consult him. This is you, alone. You are going to blindside your leader with an agreement he almost certainly cannot back out of. You may have sacrificed your career in the service of your nation.

Santiago held his breath, then nodded. “I… Agree.”

“Father!”

“Hush, dear, you can visit me on Canopus, when your duties allow. I assume that this agreement will see me sufficiently busy that any return visits will be… rare, and most definitely scheduled well in advance.”

“Of course.” Lady Kamea glared at him.

“I suppose I should work on my speech. I’ll have to admit to excesses, springing from my desire to do too much, too quickly.”

“Yes.” Cheng got off of the throne and nodded.

Lady Arano walked to it, seemingly a little nonplussed.

I suppose I can understand, these things in the stories usually end with a duel of mechs, and thunder and lightning. And I wonder if you noticed that you only got on the throne after  Cheng gave it to you?

And then the Comstar precentor was coming forward, a few other men and women joining him to write the surrender that they were to play as a glorious compromise.


Mary emerged from the shower, happily looking at her bare arm. No more cast, no more itching and—

“Brigadier, we just had a diplomatic courier arrive from Taurus.”

That fast? They’d received a note that the RCT was heading back to Tortuga, but nothing else. Just “Stand by.”

Fortunately, the city was calm, the videos of Lord Espinoza and Lady Arano standing together to declare that the violence was over (Mary had had them both searched for weapons), and a new era was upon them had stopped enough of the violence that her soldiers were now sitting on base getting bored. Mary didn’t care. Being bored definitely beat getting shot at. She’d also taken about a quarter of the unit’s expendable munitions budget and used it to pay compensation for families of the Hundred Martyrs.

She hadn’t even lied. If handing someone cash kept them from wanting to shoot you, you didn’t have to buy bullets.

Thomas had been doubtful, but nobody had tried to blow them up over the last week.

So she threw on her uniform, and they headed out to the field to see the diplomatic courier land. Based on the Fury class, it had better facilities and room for light diplomatic vehicles and a bodyguard detail.

Mary and Thomas were waiting for the group at the Bay. For a moment, Mary was surprised. She saluted, but the band of civilians didn’t even acknowledge her. Thomas tensed beside her, and then they both saluted as a Colonel appeared. He didn’t look at Mary, merely stared at Thomas.

“I’ll be the overall commander,” he told her XO.

“Yes, well, Brigadier Cheng is—“

“Brigadier Cheng is being recalled to Taurus. Immediately.” That came from two men in civilian suits with the added bulk that indicated body armor. A ID was flashed. “Special Investigations Division.”

Thomas went still.

SID?  The TDF handled its own military justice for events in the field, but the SID got involved for other matters, usually things like embezzlement where someone figured an independent eye was needed.

They also got involved with the higher ups were very upset indeed and wanted to know what the hell was going on.

“Ah. In that case I can have my things brought to the dropship—“

“That is not necessary, Brigadier Cheng. Everything you need is on the ship and I believe your Executive Officer is up to the task of briefing your replacement.”

“Of course,” she said. “I am at the disposal of the Concordat.”

And I think that  might actually be literally true.

With that, Mary got on board the dropship, and right after they’d finished refueling, felt the acceleration push her down as they boosted for the jumpship.

[mikecj]

Well written!

[DOC_Agren]

Well Cheng, what exactly did u do to get the SID involved... 

[Korzon77]

So this is what purgatory feels like.  Mary had been brought back, the dropship detaching and catching other jumpships and she didn’t want to imagine how expensive that had been and now…

Two weeks of intensive interviews. Reports. Discussions with everyone from her  military superiors to a historian.  He’d been very focused on what she knew about the spate of private attempts to build nations during and after the Star League.

Mary had a simple answer for that. She’d spent most of that part of her schooling doodling dropships in the margins of her history book.

That had seemed to insult him more than anything else.

So here she was in a suite, something a bit larger than her rank merited, with meals brought to her. She could go down to the cafeteria, but it had been suggested that after her long trip she should say up here and rest.

And of course the torment of watching the videos of the successful invasion of Tortuga Prime.

I should be there! Mary grumped. The whole thing had gone off like clockwork. The pirates had been so confident that the first strike had caught most of their ships on the ground, and then, they’d assumed it’d be another raid, and hadn’t been prepared at all for when two RCT’s grounded around the city.

“We’re here where the final battles for the city of Raider’s Roost occurred,” the attractive reporter, dressed up in armor to let you know things could still be dangerous was saying. Behind her, there was a burned out pirate Warhammer, EOD techs removing the last of its munitions. The camera panned over to the refugee camp, shelters neatly laid out and a big Comstar pavilion there. “Behind me, you can see the camp for individuals who have requested repatriation, along with the Comstar facilities for sending information to their home nations. However, not all of them may be leaving. The passage of the Citizenship Act allows any individual who wishes to stay to claim Citizenship.” She paused. “Let’s run the clip, Jack, for General Kincaid’s speech.”

The screen changed and General Kincaid, still in his mechwarrior suit, was behind a little podium, the remains of the Jolly Rodgers’ dropship fleet behind him.

“Greetings. As you know, the Tortugan Pirates have been taking slaves for centuries. In some cases, this means we cannot find their former homes, and obviously for many, this has been their home for generations. For that reason, all civilians on this world and any other world in the Tortuga cluster may claim Taurian citizenship.”

“Sir! Why are you moving civilians out of Raider’s Roost?”

“The lack of any environmental regulations and the general treatment of the pirates has made the city uninhabitable. Currently, heavy metal concentrations in the soil and water stand at two to three times greater than Concordat regulations allow for industrial facilities, let alone housing. By moving them to new regions, we can at least prevent any further damage from being done.

And gives you a chance to see if any bad guys are trying to hide in the crowd. Not that many would, not after Dame Paula Trevaline had tried to get out incognito and been caught by a mixed band of Davion and Kuritan slaves who had escaped during the attack and…

Well, her mutilated corpse, hanging from a crane, had been shown all over the media, albeit with some parts blacked out. She had not gone quickly, or easily, but Mary didn’t feel a thing for her. Nor did anyone else, not after all the mass graves had been found.

Comstar was also helping with that. A lot of people would be receiving bad news, but they’d at least get closure, and Comstar had waived any HPG fees.

And I’m not there! A fight where you don’t even have to wonder if you’re on the right side, and I wasn’t there!

No, she was here, and maybe she’d just die of old age here, and nobody would notice. Maybe even they’d put a plaque up on her door. Or worse she wouldn’t die. Just stay here for ever and ever—

There was a knock on the door. Mary got up, checked her uniform and went to it.

Security officers came walking in, and behind them…

“Lord Calderon,” Mary said, coming to attention.

Edward Calderon chuckled. “Brigadier Cheng. My father has a differing levels for how annoyed he is. Minor, very, and ‘I can’t talk to this person because I might launch myself over my desk at them.’ Care to guess where you are?”

“The third?”

“Bingo,” he gestured for her to sit down. “Good news, you solved what could have been an absolute ******. Bad news? You made a lot of people look very bad. Our diplomatic… well, let’s be honest. For much of our history, we haven’t needed a great diplomatic corps. It’s mostly been glaring at the Davions, making some minor deals with local worlds, and appearing for public events. The big affairs were mostly handled personally by the Protector or his close associates. You showed the problem with that.”

“Ah, yes sir.”

“And some of those people have been banging the drum of ‘you went wild’ very loudly indeed, including some claims that maybe you were in league with the perfidious Davions.”

“But there weren’t even any there!”

“Proof of their skill. Never doubt the power of Schroedinger’s Davions in our political dialog. Even when they aren’t around, they could be.” He sighed. “But joking aside, people targeting you could be an issue, especially since Father isn’t an absolute dictator. If we’re going to clean the mess of the Foreign Ministry, we can’t have people going scorched earth on us—or you. And there’s the bit of your last missive, which well, blindsided is putting it mildly.” He shook his head. “Don’t worry about sending an RCT, I’ve already overthrown the current government, replaced with with a coalition government, made a binding deal with the Magistracy…”

Mary found herself shrinking a little in her seat. Said like that it did feel a little abrupt.

“Which gets to the last problem. You did well. You were handed a disaster and pulled it out. But we don’t want the precedent set, because to be honest, military officers going off on their own has a bigger chance of creating a disaster than solving it. You weren’t just smart, you were lucky in that Espinoza was a loyalist to the nation, not simply his own power.”

“Yes sir.”

“Now one solution? Send you home to Brannis, conform a promotion to Colonel and let you stay there until you retire, running the militia. Neither Father nor I agree with that, so we’ve come up with something else…”

“Sir?”

“You like to tour cities, I’ve heard. What do you think about getting some photos of Tharkad?”

Mary blinked in surprise and Edward continued.

“I have a project in mind, one that Father has fast tracked. One thing you proved is that we’re not good with… policing. Our forces have been geared to fight the Davions, or a full scale battle. It’s not publicized, but there were several cases on Tortuga where, if we hadn’t come with such overwhelming force, things might have been dicy. We need a more flexible formation, right now we’re calling it the Medium RCT.”  He handed a folder to Mary.

Mary stared at it. Mostly Vtol mounted infantry, light and medium battlemechs with a few fast heavies, emphasis on small, fast dropship deployment… She blinked. This looked like some of her own suggestions.

“This is impressive, but how does it…”

“Relate to Tharkad?” Edward leaned back. “Father believes that we can become powerful enough to stand off the Inner Sphere. I don’t. No matter how much we find in that maintenance library, quantity has a quality all its own. We need other tools to stand them off. Economic and diplomatic tools. When the Reunification War occurred, our isolation killed us because nobody in the Inner Sphere had much to lose. That’s why I’m working on investments and partnerships with the Lyran Commonwealth, especially given their negotiations with the Federated Suns. The Feddies might be willing to invade for Glory, but the Lyrans count Kroners. But we also have to prove to the Lyrans that we’re capable of defending ourselves, and since they also have problems with pirates, I’m killing two birds with one stone.”

“You’re sending an RCT to the Commonwealth?”

“Yes. Some of their pirates aren’t far short of our dear, departed Dame Paula.”

“What about other states…”

“The agreement specifically bans our participation in any conflicts with “legitimate states”, and the planned AOR is far from those borders. We’re there to help the Lyran’s with their pirate problem. If that should happen to free up some units for other purposes, that’s up to Archon Steiner, not me.”

“Who is going to run it?”

“You, General.”

“I—“ Mary blinked. “That’s jumping me up three grades!” More, actually.  The person in charge of an RCT was usually a senior general.

“You’ll have time. The RCT is forming, and you need to get some work under you, work out the kinks. Our estimation is you can be sent out in ‘25. It’s not just political. It’s clear we’re going to need an expeditionary capability, which means that a lot of our serving generals wouldn’t bring as much as they might. This is new territory for all of us.”

“And then to Tharkad and beyond.”

“We send you to Brannis to train up the unit and see your family, then send you all the way across the sphere, with no great medals pinned on your chest for that mess in the Reach. People who aren’t happy with you look at it and see it as exile, and who could say being sent that far away isn’t punishment? So. Interested?”

Some would, but… This is the first full-scale operation with a successor state since before the Amaris Civil War…

But even so, history was full of cases of people who had been promoted beyond their competence, and sank under their new duties.

And if I can’t cut it, well, that works as well, proving that I was just a flash in the pan.

On the other hand, if she’d just wanted the easy jobs, she could have stayed home. This was just a bigger version of the terror she’d felt when she’d realized the Concordat was trusting Mary Cheng with a battlemech.

“Yes, sir,” Mary said. “I’m very interested.”


 

[Sir Chaos]

And to anyone who doesn´t like the arrangement, they can sell it as version of what Mary did to Santiago Espinoza - keep him far, far away from where they can do any damage, while still engaged in something sorta useful.

[Daryk]

Well played by Edward!  :thumbsup:

[Korzon77]

Interlude: Testing and Plans

TCS(D) Stormbringer.


“Standby for attack run,” Captain Sandra Jenks said. She felt the pressure of the big drives start to push her into her acceleration couch. Everyone was full suited, as the big 36,000 ton dropship went to full acceleration. Weighing four times as much as you did in a standard well wasn’t fun.

“Coming up on first targets.”

“Guns, engage.” From blisters in the sides of the ship, beams lashed out, lasers more powerful than any conventional laser, although far less powerful than the mighty naval lasers of hte SLDF. But they had range, and the drones pretending to be fighters soon vanished, the computer projecting red icons where they had been.

“Primary targets in range.” This time, it wasn’t just the lasers. The mid-hull launchers opened up and strategic missiles vomited fourth.

These missiles wouldn’t “hit” their targets. They were too expensive to casually expend, but they would come close enough that if they had been armed, the targets could have been shattered. Now the icons flared, Leopard and Union class ships hammered. The core of the formation was four Overlords, burning in. And now they were in their range.

“Strikes to forward armor. Minor damage.”

“Focus secondaries on their fighter escort. Set fire plan delta for those Unions on the other side. Main batteries target the overlords.”

“Confirm. Coming into range…”

The entire ship shuddered, as the autocannon roared. Two, four cannon batteries opened fire, and smashed into two of the targets—in this case, rigged up drone ships—shells, but shells with armor close to what an overlord would have.

It didn’t help, as the cannonfire  hammered through the armor, proving that at least in this case, the computer simulations matched reality.

The Stormbringer only had a few small craft, not many passenger facilities and wasn’t designed to land mechs. It was designed to kill anything else in space that tried to fight and run down anything that tried to run.

“So what do you think?” She asked.

The observer frowned. “Nice simulation, but…”

“Simulations aren’t reality,” Sandra said. “Still, we’ve tested it as much as we can, short of actual conflict, Lord Shraplen.  And the Davions have nothing like this.”

“Spaceships can’t liberate worlds.”

“But they can keep our enemies from reinforcing them.” Sandra didn’t let any hint of annoyance mar her face. The admiralty orders were clear. Shraplen was important to getting the funding, but the best way to get the entire project killed or backbenched was to have him run to the Protector, demanding they destroy New Avalon. “And that will make our worlds safer.”

The ship was now decelerating, its big fuel reserves barely touched by the action. In front of them were the support docks, far away from the world of Brannis.

“Besides, sir, your support for series production will ensure that the Davions continue to fund our fleet.”

“What?”

“This class, and the Aeneas class are both powered by the Bull Mammoth drives. Every Successor Lord is paying for them, including Hanse Davion.”

“That’s a violation of the embargo!”

“It is. That’s why we’re charging him extra.” Sandra smiled. “And that money has been funneled into our naval expansion.”

Not nearly as much as she was implying, but then, she could see that his eyes were dancing with the thought of shooting at Davion ships with weapons they’d paid for.

And it helps like hell on maintenance. The Aeneas class was 18,000 tons, the Stormbringer 36,000 tons, but they both more or less used the same drives, ECM, sensor, everything the engineers could figure would work on both classes.

“Stand by for docking.”

“Ah, Governor, this is something you might want to watch.”

“I’ve seen docking procedures.”

“Never anything like this.” Sandra smiled. “And this isn’t something we found out of our archive. We thought of this ourselves.”

“Oh?”

“The limitation on jumpships is going to be a fact of life for years to come. But the old Alliance used dropshuttles.”

“I—“ Shraplen frowned as he stared at the display. The big pod was docked to a jumpship, but now one of three bays was opening up. Slowly, the dropship moved into the bay. Articulated arms reached out and as they entered it, shocks ran through the hull.

“Reloading servos linked.” The XO stared at his readouts. “Stand by for cargo and personnel airlock linkage.”

“They stopped using them because they had more than enough jumpships. We don’t. This support pod includes three vacuum bays, repair systems, cargo spaces, and quarters for support and relief crews. It can function either docked or on its own.   Any Jumpship with collar space can take not just our warships, but all the support they need with them.” She paused, and hit Shraplen with the last thing she had. “We were once known as the second greatest naval power in known space. How about we change that to the greatest naval power?”

“Hmmm… Well, it’s not a regiment of battlemechs, but you have my support.”

“Thank you, sir.”

With that, she fell silent as the first Concordat warship to fly in centuries was taken into its bay.


Stars End:


Morgaine stood in the docking bay, her bodyguards by her. Next to them, Redjack Ryan stood with his men. They hadn’t talked—there were others here, and she didn’t want to let them know about any potential weakness.

“A lovely acquisition!” Ryan called, to Morgan Fletcher, the host who had called them here. “What is this?”

“A Potempkin. It was drifting in an asteroid belt, probably stashed there when its jump drive failed.” Fletcher said. “You wouldn’t believe how happy the LosTech prospector at his good fortune. Sadly for him, he talked too much.” She smiled, standing in front of a covered patch of bulkhead.

“It works,” Morgaine said. “You jumped it here.”

“Oh, it works. The damage in the jump drive wasn’t unfixable, but whoever was using it took off quickly. Maybe they were fleeing Kerensky, but now…” She smirked. “They’ve given us a treasure.”

“What kind of treasure?” Ryan asked.

“Aren’t you tired of pillaging farmers?  This is a warship!” Morgan grinned. “They can surrender their provincial capitals to us, or see us burn them. Meanwhile, you can make use of the distraction to take your pick of the best booty, and remind those spheroids that they’re sheep… no matter what the Bulls claim. In fact, after Tortuga, I think they need some reminding…”

Morgaine stared at her. “And when they come for us with nukes?”

“That’s the best part. They won’t. For see, this isn’t a pirate ship, it’s a ship of some bunch of neobarbs. We found some insignia on it, stuff left behind by those who fled. Who knows, they might even be out there still, but the Sphere won’t be hunting pirates. They’ll be giving us a free hand while they search for… “

She reached up and pulled the cover down. The art was slightly dulled by decades in vacuum, but even so, the Wolverine glared out at the pirates.

“The Wolverines. It’s not original, but hey, it’s a wolverine head on a flag.  I’m even going to have all my fighters and mechs put this symbol on. Nobody is going to have any idea where we came from…”

“And how long?”

“It’d going to take us a while,” Morgan admitted. “Maybe ready by 3026. After all, we want it to look like a warship from a nation, not something we found in space.”

“Maybe I could borrow it and visit old Grim…” Ryan said and laughed.

Morgaine stared at it. 25 dropships. Combine that with the forces they had, and they could overwhelm anything short of a capital.

And Morgan was right. They did need a reminder that they lived at her sufferance. I like this idea.

“Who’s in charge?” She asked.

“So you’re all on board?” Morgan asked. Everyone nodded.

“Then lets talk,” Morgan said, and gestured. “There’s a conference room in here, and it’s a luxury compared to the shit we normally deal with… Also, we have a lot of space for, well human acquisitions, and I know you enjoy that, Redjack…”

As they passed, Morgaine noticed that some trick of the light, for a moment, seemed to make it as if the Wolverine Insignia was glaring down at her.

Too bad. We’re making you ours.

[mikecj]

Now that’s an unexpected twist.

[Korzon77]

Mary had spent the entire trip back memorizing materials. Turned out, running an RCT was a bit more difficult than running a brigade, or being forced to take over a regiment after the entire command staff was killed.

And by “a bit” Mary meant “and you thought basic was hard.”  It was a good thing it’d be at least a  year, maybe two, before they were deployed, because she was going to need every second of it.

Well, mostly. Her commander had ordered her to take at least a few weeks of leave, when she’d protested, he’d just pointed out that she’d be getting leave normally, never mind after having to take over because her entire command and diplomatic staff caught an untimely case of death.

Mary hadn’t been too hard to convince, honestly. It’d been far too long since she’d seen her parents and sister. It’d be nice to get back to the old home.

But home… had changed.

[/hr]

“Aren’t we dropping for the military port?” Mary asked. As ranking officer, she got a ride in the little cockpit of the shuttle.

The pilot shook his head. “Military port is too small for the traffic, so they put in a civilian port, outside the current city limits. People complained about the traffic.”

Mary shook her head. When she’d been growing up, they had gotten maybe one dropship every few months.

Her bemusement only grew as she saw the port. Not as big as the ones on Samantha or other major worlds, but it was still modern, big runways for the aerodynes, blast pits for the spheroid dropships, with everything else a modern spaceport required, both highway and rail links to the city. A few moments after they landed, the pilot taxied into the passenger terminal and Mary got off, behind a gaggle of businessmen who had been talking about investment opportunities.

Inside, she checked in to customs, then got waved through and came face to face with a big LED display.

A bunch of children were leading a blind man, his face scarred, a sign of an unsuccessful surgical attempt to remove the parasites. As Mary walked, he stopped, the children around him and the recording shifted.

“Remember, every day we eliminate more of the habitat for the eye rot parasite. Until then, make certain to get bimonthly checkups. Eye rot is no longer incurable, and with your help, we will make it extinct!”

“C’mon Grandpa!” one of the girls said. “I wanna to go the park so I can tell you what I see!”

“Right! Remember, if we do our job, they will never need to worry about eye rot!”

Mary shook her head and continued on. The terminal was brightly lit, the air conditioning keeping the air crisp and clean and—

“MARY!”

Mary barely held up under the death from above attack by the MK II Cheng Daughter. Or rather, Mary had been short, like her mother, but Jennifer was tending more towards tall, like her father, and even at 11 was almost as tall as Mary was.

“Jennifer Cheng! If you kill your sister, we’ll report you to the Protector!”

“Eep!” The girl jumped back and Mary stared at her. How had she gotten so big?

Then Mary hugged her sister. “C’mere! It’s been forever!”  She found herself blinking a little faster. It has been forever. When she’d left, Jennifer had barely come up above her waist and recorded messages just didn’t convey it. Dad had… did he have gray in his hair? It couldn’t be that long? 

Then she was hugging Mom and Dad, and they were laughing. But Jennifer was staring.

“What is it?” Mary asked.

“You’re… You’re a General!”

Both Mom and Dad paused, and looked at the insignia.

“I thought you were…”

“You know how I jumped a grade when I was ten?”  Mary asked. “Turns out you can do that in the military.” She glanced at Jennifer and the parents nodded. Some things weren’t exactly secret, but shouldn’t be broadcast.

“I see. Well, we’ll be heading out to eat unless you want to rest…”

Mary shook her head. “I’ve been on a dropship for most of the trip here, and we didn’t have a synchronized route. I could really do with some time out and planetary food…” She paused. “Is Geraldo’s still around?”

“Around and bigger.” Dad grinned. “But he still has the lasagna dish you loved.”

“Well, what’s keeping us?  Time to drop these mechs!” Mary said.

When she came out, she stopped once. “Where’s the Beast?” Mary asked, naming the old steamer dad tinkered on regularly.

“Ah, well…” Dad chuckled. “I traded it in for an electric job. It was that or have to pay the emission’s tariff and they were offering a great bonus to buy a new one.”

“Ah.” Makes sense, Mary’s officer brain thought. Battery powered cars could be powered from any source of electricity, and steam needed some form of burner, which was always polluting… come to think of it, she really hadn’t smelled much in way of burned hydrocarbons in the air…

The car would barely count as an economy model on Taurus, but better than three quarters of the cars on the road were also battery powered, and more importantly, locally built. They got in, and Dad pulled out from the curb, merging into traffic.

“They’re talking about a central traffic guidance system, but I think it’s way too early to talk about that,” he said.

“I don’t know, honey, better do it now than wait until we have to do it fast,” Mom said.

Mary smiled. Dad was the leap before you looked type and Mom liked to plan everything out. Some things never changed.

“Is it true?” Jennifer asked.

“What?”

“Well, Sarah, you don’t know her, but she moved in with some of the biologists from Taurus, and her brother, he lives on Brisbane and he knows Lord Calderon—Edward, I mean and she said that—“

“Jennifer? Breathe,” Mom order.

“Right, okay!” She breathed. “But she said that her brother talked to a man who talked to Lord Calderon and they heard from a another guy that someone had created a clone of Stephen Amaris and that’s why you were fighting in the Directorate!”

“Coalition,” Mary corrected, feeling a little run over. “I… never met Stephen Amaris, clone or  otherwise.”

“But Sarah wouldn’t lie! She’s my best friend!”

“Oh, I don’t think she lied, and I know her brother wouldn’t lie about knowing Lord Calderon, but sometimes things… get confused. Has your school ever played HPG station?”

“Yeah?”

“Did your letter ever look like the one you wrote when you got it back?”

“So maybe it wasn’t Stephen Amaris.”

“Probably not.”

“Stanley said it was a clone of Hanse Davion.”

Mary didn’t quite know what to say about that, but she caught a glance of her mother in the mirror, mouthing “sorry.”

“Well, I cannot confirm or deny any reports…” Mary said, falling back on the boilerplate that she assumed was not, in the slightest, intended to deal with younger siblings, as opposed to reporters.

[Daryk]

Dropshuttle bays that can hold three 36,000 ton ships? ???

The story is otherwise progressing well!  :thumbsup:

[Korzon77]

The next two weeks went very well. Jennifer adored Mary and even got to show her off to her junior high school, all of whom were amazed to talk to a real general who had been born on Brannis.

Then Mary got yanked off to the planetary assembly to be granted an award and…

Well, she’d prefer the junior high school. She was told all about Jennifer’s position as best baseball player at school, and how she also got to volunteer at the local clinic, handing out vaccines and things like that.

Jennifer, when she wasn’t asking about Mary, loved to talk about what she did there, next to what she would do as a mechwarrior.

That subject came up at one dinner, and Mary noticed Mom twitch.

“And then, I won’t have to worry about some people getting angry because I flunked math.” Jennifer said.

Mary paused, some of Mom’s homemade lasagna halfway to her mouth, then put it down. “Really?”

“Sure, Immortal Warrior never uses math!”

“Immortal Warrior isn’t…” Mary paused. “Okay, try this. You’re doing a hot jump, and suddenly your guidence computer dies. Maybe you got jostled, maybe someone set off a nuke in orbit, maybe just bad luck. But now you’re falling and the computer’s not going to help you. You have to do it manually, time everything or you’re going to go spl—land off target.”

Mom relaxed slightly.

Jennifer paused. “So you… use the emergency computer?”

“Yep. We call it the MK I brain,” Mary said. “That’s why we all have a writing pad so we can do calculations. And  a mechanical watch that is immune to EMP and is accurate to the microsecond.” She pulled one of the paper place mats out and produced her watch and pen.  “So, I have to look outside my cockpit and time to rotation of the mech, which…” Mary bit her lip and started scribbling down equations. “Then we can time it…” She hit the counter on the watch. “And… okay, I need to figure when to hit my rcs pack…”  She looked up at Jennifer. “Also, the park we went to yesterday, remember the spinning cups?”

“Yes?”

“The mech is doing that.”

“What if you’re wrong?”

“Then I hit, very hard. I have to get it right and get it right the first time, which means I have to know the math well enough to do it fast. I also have to be able to do the same thing if we lose navigation systems and I have to read a map and go by dead reckoning.”

“Mechwarriors have to do math.” Jennifer sounded like Mary had just told her Christmas was cancelled.

“Everyone has to do math,” Dad said.

“Listen to Dad. It may not be the same type of math, but you need it—even if you have a computer, so you’ll know if the computer is giving you the right answer, or garbage.” Mary leaned back. “Like the time I led my lance in the opposite direction because I decided to trust the computer and not my instincts…”

Later, Jennifer was giggling, as Mary finished the story (minus the actual language her TO had used), and then went to bed. School years didn’t stop, not even for Generals.

“So you’re leaving this Saturday?” Mom asked, as Mary helped tidy up.

Mary nodded. “Getting a whole RCT ready isn’t going to be easy.”

“Jennifer adores you.”

“She’s gotten big.”

“She wants to be a mechwarrior.” Mom paused. “I—“

“Don’t want her to,” Mary said. “I can see it. Me being gone can’t have been easy on you and Dad.”

“And what happened to you at the Reach… you’re a little different now. Jennifer is…”

“Gentle.” Mary nodded.

“You were gentle.”

“But I wanted to see the stars, more than anything. Jennifer doesn’t have to enlist to do that.”  Mary paused. “Staying on Brannis isn’t any guarantee of safety. Mechs aren’t the only thing that can hurt you. We have drunk drivers here, after all.”

“I know.”

“I’ll talk to her.”

[/hr]

The last day, Mary took Jennifer to the greatest amusement park on Brannis. Or at least the oldest one, dating from the Star League. Most of the rides were newer, with “Attack of Davion” sitting next to “Wild River.” There were even a few old mech pods, probably donated from the military base, but Mary begged off of those.

“Don’t want to show any secrets,” she told Mary.

By the end of the day they were standing up at the Pinnacle, designed to look like one of the high mountains of Earth, complete with water misters and coolers producing artificial snow for the adventurous who wanted to ski, actual Ski-ranges being over three hundred miles away. Mary and Jennifer sat down, enjoying the cool air, but staying away from where some teens were having their romantic rendezvous.

About my age, Mary thought. Back when I signed myself up.  Today, there was more room for college, more need for an educated workforce. She’d read that there were some groups wanting to push for the age of majority to be increased to 18, to be in line with the rest of the Concordat.

“Mom’s worried that you want to be a mechwarrior.”

“I know, but I could do it.”

“Maybe, if you forget your fear of math. Even if not that, you could join up as a regular.” Mary glanced at her. “But why?  Pretend I’m the recruiting officer. Why?”

“I—because I want to serve the Concordat, I want  to be… you know, like you. Important! Win wars!”

“Be careful about that last,” Mary quietly said. “I’ve had friends die. Had to write the letters their families get. No bodies, just cremated remains, unless they’ve requested burial where they fell. Winning can have a high pricetag, and it may be one you have to pay.”

“You didn’t.”

“Nope. Came close. And I didn’t win any wars.”

“But the Reach thing, I saw the picture, you were there with Duke Diego and Lady Arano. Is it true that they were lovers?”

Mary blinked. Had a brief horrifying image of what they would do to anyone who said that to them.

“No… I think the age difference was a bit much.” Mary paused. “But I didn’t fight my way out of that war.  Let’s put it this way. A soldier can win a fight, right?”

“Yes.”

“But he can’t win a battle. A general can win a battle, or even a campaign.”

“Okay…”

“But a general can’t win a war, not ultimately. A politician can win a war, and more importantly make a peace from that war. So if you become a mechwarrior, you won’t win a war. You’ll be part of it, but ultimately, just a part, and you may not agree with what the general or the politician thinks.”

“Generals can’t?”

“No. Kerensky was a general, and he beat Amaris. But what happened then? What did he do with his victory?”

“He left.”

“He left, and everything he fought for turned to dust. Think of all the soldiers who died, thinking they were restoring the League. What would their ghosts say?”

Jennifer shivered, and Mary quickly changed tactics. “But there is a lot of stuff you can do. Warriors don’t win wars, but they also don’t build houses, cure people, teach people… Like Old Faithful down there.” She gestured, the big looming mountain of water ride almost lost among the newer rides. “How old is it?”

“It’s been here forever.”

“Right. You know who built it, right?”

“Mike Donavan, he owned the park!”

“He owned the park. And when the League collapsed and people started raiding Brannis, he realized that the rides were going to stop. The holo-games would be stolen or break down, so he took the last equipment he had, and used his mind. He couldn’t save everything, but he could at least give people something to enjoy before he headed out and did his best to keep the canals running. I don’t know if they told you, but he was a SLDF combat engineer who retired here. And he built Old Faithful—you know why it’s so faithful?”

“Something about what he did?”

Mary nodded. “He knew that engines and pumps would break down or be stolen, so he punched down into the aquifer and created an artesian well that would keep the water flowing, even if nobody had the tools to fix it. And it has. Ever since the fall of the Star League, it has.  Hundreds of years.”

“I… I didn’t really think of that.”

“But you liked it didn’t you? Screamed when you hit the first big dip.”

“Yeah.”

“So did I!” Mary said. “It’s been over two centuries, and every day, Old Faithful has been around. So… who helped more. Mike Donavan, or a mechwarrior? Who made more of an impact on the people.”

“I…” Jennifer was thinking hard. “But he needed mechwarriors to protect him. That’s why the park is so much bigger.”

“That’s true, but it’d be cold world to protect if there were no Old Faithfuls. And with that, I think we have time for one more ride on Old Faithful before the park closes. We can get soaked and dry off on the way home.”

“Right!”

Jennifer jumped up, and Mary followed her. Well, Mom, I did try. She wouldn’t lie to Jennifer, but maybe she’d helped show her there were other things to do other than be a mechwarrior.

Granted, unless Jennifer could improve her maths, she probably wouldn’t have to worry about it.

But telling Mom to encourage bad grades probably wouldn’t go well. Mary smirked. The Protector might be the highest military authority, but Moms were another thing entirely. With that, she followed her younger sister down to the oldest ride on the planet.

[Daryk]

Good luck with steering a teenager!  ::)

[BATTLEMASTER]

I really liked the last part written so far.  It reminds me of when I was a child and I wanted to design things that would blow stuff up!  Work for Raytheon or Lockheed and build those chainsaw missiles that actually turned out to be a real thing :o  Okay they aren't exactly rocket-powered chainsaws but they're close!  And The Transformers and BattleTech were a big deal to me because big walking war machines were as cool as the tanks that dominated battlefields IRL - especially the transforming ones  :D

But then as I got older and more interested in engineering, I learned that there was more value in creating than destroying, despite it being easier to destroy things.  Yet building and making things made life better for everyone.  Admittedly that's also true for building military hardware and training people to properly use it, all those things being resources to protect what you've made.

And I never sucked at math, so that helped!  But proofs?  Those can rot in hell  ;D

Keep the story coming Korzon77 - I'm glad you're working on it again :)  I'm just wondering what's going to happen when the Wolf Dragoons hear about a Clan Wolverine warship prowling the Inner Sphere...  Call the homeworlds and the invasion starts early?  Or do they bring their own warships out of storage to deal with the Potemkin?  Maybe it'll be a 3-way fight between the pirates, the Dragoons, and Comstar, but the Taurians with their growing space navy may become player 4...

[Korzon77]

Mary gripped the edge of the desk, the pleasant dreams of her family far behind her. The small HQ van jumped over some rough terrain. The readouts were giving little information, and the jostling was terrible.

Exactly to be expected since the Opfor had managed to sneak behind their lines and hit the command post.

Which was why they had a smaller, but more mobile “emergency command post” that normally was used to run a brigade, not a regiment.

“Swing over to grid 12,” Mary barked out. “They’re going for our artillery.” Another lurch and she almost knocked herself silly against the ceiling. But they couldn’t stop, not since the Opfor had dropped nearly a company of mechs on the site, and were now chasing them.

Which means they don’t have all their mechs elsewhere.  The referees had ruled the headhunter force destroyed, but they were still sending in other units to chase her.

Hank,  you are aggressive…

Too aggressive. The displays were showing growing gaps in his units, commanders used to the more set piece battles of the line TDF regiments getting over enthusiastic.

“Fourth, I think they could use some of our Dragons.”

“On it, Ma’am.”

Granted, we’re winning, but we’ll come out of it with a combat ineffective unit. I got too close to the front.

But that was what practice was for.  The big problem was that the new RCT wasn’t supposed to do any one thing—it was supposed to do everything, and it was left to Mary to demonstrate that being good enough at all trades could compensate for being a master at no trade. Mary had spent sleepless nights going over official records of the various SLDF units, more recent histories of the Eridini Light Horse, everything she could find.

And then there was the eternal flow of… gadgets.  Some good, some not so good.

And some… some would be a very unpleasant surprise to their enemies.

[/hr]

The small craft, all two hundred tons, sat on the salt-flat, the ground cracking under it. It’d landed only a few minutes ago, and now the security team was emerging. Moments later, the twin barrels of the Long Toms emerged from the hatch, opening fire as the landing pads of the craft, creaked under the recoil.

“From landing to first shot, it’s about eight minutes.” The engineer nodded at the unit. “You need air superiority, but if you have it, you can move your artillery where you want it.”

“If the weather agrees,” Mary said. Not to mention the cost. Financial windfall or no, they weren’t going to be able to replace their entire artillery force with this.

But she’d take what she could get. The biggest problem with artillery is most pirates and raiders tried to avoid it. And you never had enough to emplace it everywhere.

Now powered armor, that’d be nice to have, but… Friends or no, that wasn’t a secret they were going to unveil for the Lyrans. Hell, Mary and the rest of the command staff were the only ones who knew about it, mainly because they had more experience in combat operations and were helping with some of the simulations.  But a bunch of guys who could laugh off light armor packing satchel charges would ruin just about anyone’s day, and Mary regretted losing the chance to demonstrate that to some pirates.

Which was also why Mary had suggested they start planning for an upgrade kit that would equip mechs with machine guns. It might be technically a waste but there were too many ways to strip escorting infantry, even armored infantry, for Mary to be comfortable with “oh, you’ll just stop them with your own guys.” The minute they showed their own powered armor, everyone else would be working on it, so best to be ready for that.

“Another nastygram, General,” Hank said. Mary sighed, and looked at the letterhead informing her that the Bureau of Personnel would like to talk to her, probably yesterday. 

And I know why. I’m sending to many people back to their home units and the ones I’m keeping…

Were the ones with initiative, and that meant that she was keeping a large number of people that had been tagged for leadership. Their superior officers weren’t happy.

Well, I’m not happy, and maybe you could build that new academy you’ve been promising forever and solve our training bottleneck. “I will… speak with them, at their convenience.” Mary said, as the thunder of another salvo sounded from the gun craft. Another thing to do, another waste of time. The calendar in her office, with the ‘inform the Protector of your Unit Readiness” date marked out was her personal enemy, mocking her with every day passed.

[/hr]

“You didn’t quite make it,” Mary said to the assembled pilots. “That’s why you don’t have a battlemech. Right now.”

Everyone went rigid.

Mary smiled. “The problem with a battlemech can be summed up in two words: Its pilot. Pilots get hurt, pilots get killed, pilots get tired, and traditionally, that means either the mech is not fielded, or we try to keep it in the field with an injured pilot. Fortunately, we have a new plan. One approved by the Protector. You are now going to be the relief pilots for the battlemechs of our force. When a primary pilot is injured, or is just too fatigued, you will replace him. In the mean time, they will teach you their skills, drilling you so that, presuming a satisfactory report at the end of this deployment, you will be reposted to a unit—one where you will be the primary mech pilot.”

Everyone stared at her.

“Don’t thank me. You’ll earn it. Dismissed.”

And another problem sort of solved. She hadn’t been able to get full pilots-those were all going for new production, but the ones who had just barely missed the wire were a different matter. Now, if they had to, they could run their battlemechs all night and day, and the team up between mentor and trainee would hopefully see everyone’s skills improved.

[/hr]

Orbit.

Sharon was a Loadmaster. That meant she was God. And inside here, she felt like it. The big  100,000 ton pod, was mostly hollow inside, save for networks of lines and braces. And nestled into those like bugs in a spider web were the smaller dropships. Confederates, Unions, the ships that would give the RCT mobility, but were just so much dead weight during transit. Now, they could be carried as cargo.

“I’d love to see the reaction of someone if we just dropped out with these.” The dropship captain said.

“You mean, going to sleep for a week?” Sharon gestured at a Union being slowly moved into it’s position, linkages being secured. Sure a jumpship only accelerated very, very slowly, but these were big ships. “Better than a week to get them all out and checked over, for movement, not combat.” According to scuttlebutt, they were actually going to be renting, or borrowing, or some such BS, jumpcollars once they got to their destination, but in the meantime, nobody minded not having to worry about finding a dozen or so dropship collars for every unit.

Now she had to do other things. Ammunition, toilet paper, everything a unit needed, and she didn’t care if TharkadCo had stores on every world.  No unit under her care was going to have to go begging from the neighbors.

[/hr]


“It’s the Lyran News Hour!”


The cheery tune filled the studio as Seymour Wilkes took center stage. “We’re only a month from 3025, and things are moving rapidly! Better relations between the Lyran Commonwealth and Federated Suns have caused no lack of indigestion for the Combine serpant, but today we’re talking about something else. The Taurian Concordat, mostly known for high quality water purifiers and consumer equipment, is transferring no less than a full regimental combat team to assist with anti-piracy operations on our frontiers. In addition to being a first for our two nations, this is the furthest any Concordat unit has ever deployed.”  He gestured to a few men and women behind him. “So for discussions about this, we’ll have our blue-ribbon panel. First of all,  James Grearson, former commander of the 42nd assault company, will tell us what we’re getting.”

“Not much, at least in combat power. The 1st RCT(M) isn’t so much a medium formation as it is light formation. The Taurians have put their faith in light and medium mechs, as well as a smaller number of heavy mechs—mostly license built dragons.”

“A Kuritan design.”

“Yes, although the Tuarians have modified it. The autocannon has been replaced by a large laser and some variants also sport SRM racks. It’s clearly a fast battlemech, but…” he shrugged. “Fast doesn’t help if you don’t have enough fire and staying power.”

“Why would they add a large laser?”

“Well, if the idea is for a fast mech, they need more firepower than the AC gives them, as well as less in the way of ammo dependency. I’d choose a PPC, but evidently there was some worry among the Taurians that the minimum range for the PPC might be a problem.”

“You know, I’d disagree, with respect.” The woman next to Grearson sported scars on her face, one eye covered with a patch. “The RCT’s aren’t intended for line of battle. They’re intended to seek out inferior forces, or evade superior forces. Our observers were quite impressed by the skill they showed in bringing combined arms together to form a fast, responsive service. For that, speed is important.”

“Because of their poor showing in Tortuga. Wouldn’t you agree, Janna?” Wilkes said. “We know the Bulls destroyed the majority of the pirate forces, but survivors were harder to pin down. I think it took them, what over six months?”  He paused, and looked at his audience. “But let’s ask the 99 kronar question. Why?  The Concordat isn’t allied to us, in fact they’ve made it plain they don’t want to be allied to any Inner Sphere power, and the agreement, explicitly restricts their actions to antipiracy. So why?”

“First of all, it shows the Inner Sphere that they’re no longer a local power.” Janna gestured at the big screen behind them, showing a Taurian IFV in a drill, infantry bailing from it as the cannon fired at something out of sight. “A single RCT isn’t a threat to any major nation, but it’s something that until now, only the great houses could pull off. And I think it’s a warning to any possible invaders—the Taurians are now confident in their ability to deploy forces far from their logistics net, something they never could do before. Secondly, well, the Taurians hate pirates. Honing their skills by hurting pirates isn’t something that they’d turn down.”

“It’s a bit of risk though isn’t it?”  Wilkes turned to the screen and called up a map. “While their relations with the Magistracy and Arugian Coalition are doing well, the decisions to join in on the construction of new industries in Detroit and Mechdur, including what is rumored to be a light battlemech facility, puts them at risk of Capellan aggression, to say nothing of their colonial ambitions in Tortuga.”

“Sure, but it’s also a warning,” Grearson said. “They are not allied with us, but they clearly could ally with us, and at this point, well, the latest intelligence claims that that TDF may have as many as 18 or twenty regiments—and given their oversized TOE, that’s closer to 24 regiments, and if you include their standard RCT’s the Capellans would have their hands very full, and they have a fox on the other side—which is probably why none of the other powers have protested this arrangement. As long as the TDF keeps purchasing Dragons from the Kuritans and machine equipment from the Free Worlds League, they’re happy to let sleeping Bulls lay.”

“Do you think they’ll ever ally with us?” Wilke’s asked. The third member of his panel, a quiet, older man who had been silent shook his head. “No. For one thing, the Taurians… Their hatred of the Davions isn’t far short of how the people of Skye feel about the Dracs. It’s been easing in recent years, but it will be a long, long time before they feel confident in any alliance that includes New Avalon. More importantly, I think people need to understand that the Periphery mainly wants to be left alone. The Taurians will trade with us, they may even help us with piracy, but ultimately, no Taurian has ever looked to Terra or the Court of the Star League with anything but disdain, and they have no interest in getting involved in conflicts that have their basis in fighting over who rules the Star League.”

“Well, I can say that whatever their opinion, the pirates on our border will look forward to a very poor day indeed!”  Wilkes turned to the audience. “Now for our other issue—closer relations with the Federated Suns—investment opportunity or economic disaster in the making?” With that everyone leaned forward, seeing that the puff-piece was finished and now they were getting to the real meat of the show.

[Daryk]

You should be able to get that eight minutes to first shot time down quite a bit with an Infantry Bay instead of a Cargo Bay...  8)

[idea weenie]

You should be able to get that eight minutes to first shot time down quite a bit with an Infantry Bay instead of a Cargo Bay...  8)

This will be likely identified after the exercise, and the improvement made.

I could see it as a cargo Small craft being used first to test the theory of Small Craft deployed artillery, and once the advantages and disadvantages are shown better the design will be refined.

[Daryk]

Here's how I did it a few years back with a Thumper... :)

[Korzon77]

Samantha, late 3024.


Mary pasted a smile on her face as she stood by Protector Calderon, announcing the deployment of the 1st RCT(M). She shook hands with the Lyran ambassador (who was also celebrating moving into a larger embassy fitting the largest (by value) trade partner of the Concordat), saluted the Protector…and tried not to fall over.

The last month had sort of merged into her mind, and Mary had nightmares that she’d wake up and find out that she was in some kind of timeloop, repeating this month again and again, with little demons flying around her and poking her with pitchforks labeled “readiness reports”.  Fortunately she had some help. The older man in the Colonel’s uniform for one. Colin Roosevelt had started out as a hotel manager, gotten bored, and gone into the military… and as her logistics officer, he’d joked that he used more of his hotel experience than his military experience, but he kept everything running as her XO and Mary had spent as much time listening as giving orders.

The good news is that we shouldn’t be running into any full scale combats. The 1st wouldn’t be set up on one world, which gave her regimental commanders a lot more responsibility, and stuck Mary with handling the high level stuff. She’d barely managed to get enough hours to stay qualified with her mech.

Not that she was comfortable with the assumption they wouldn't face a full scale planetary campaign. The airy comments of the diplomatic corps to that effect gave her bad Aurugian flashbacks.

But Thomas seemed to have forgiven her, and she escaped with no attempted throttling. Edward was back on Brannis, and now with a last flurry of families waving as the troops embarked onto their transports, it was time to go.

But secrecy or not, Mary really wished they could have arranged to have some of their power armor fall off the loading dock.

The first problem was simple. To get to Lyran Space, they would have to go through Davion space. But Davion and Concordat were technically at war, even when they weren’t actively shooting at each other.

The Lyran legal office had solved that problem and immortalized themselves in the Book  of Inner Sphere Records with one single move.

The 1st RCT would technically be the biggest diplomatic pouch in history. The Federated Suns had evidently nodded and agreed that yes, paper could be very bulky, and in a casual move showing just how immense the economy of the Lyran Commonwealth was, they would actually be switching ships as they went through—jumpships chartered by the Commonwealth. The move through the Federated Suns would take about a month, God and KF physics willing, and then they’d jump through Terra and continue on their way to Tharkad, before Mary would establish her HQ on Somerset in cooperation with the Academy there.

Which meant that Mary and her forces would be spaceborne until they got to Lyran space.

Mary was not normally religious, but she’d seriously considered converting when that piece of news had come by. Some flunky in the diplomatic core had wanted her unit to have some “cultural interactions” with the Davions until he’d been overridden. Thomas had overridden him.

Nope, seriously considering converting to whatever religion claimed responsibility for that miracle.

They would also have a Lyran Ambassador Timmis Davidson-Steiner, supposedly related to the Archon by about 20 degrees, but in any case, he’d airily told Mary that it was another way of ensuring no local lords would attempt to disgrace Hanse Davion.

When they were all embarked on the dropships, Mary waited until they started boosting for the jump point, where the big cargo pods had already preceded them. No sense in forcing soldiers who were puking their guts out in zero G to listen to her.

“Men and women of the First,” Mary said. “I hope you said your good byes, because we are going to be gone for some time. Unless you were sleeping during your briefing, this deployment is expected to last, at the very least, until 3027. For those of you who did read your briefing, and used this opportunity to skip out on gambling debts, remember you will have to come home sooner or later.” Then Mary’s voice turned serious. “We are engaging in the first example of a long-term, long-distance anti-piracy operation by the Concordat. The fact that it is with the Lyran Commonwealth is a sign of our growing cultural and economic ties. We are not, contrary to rumor, joining them to go to war against the Draconis Combine. Our regimental combat team will be going to war against pirates, as our fellows have done in Tortuga. We will be dealing with the enemies of civilization and remember that Lyrans, no less than Taurians, have felt the pirate’s scourge. We will teach—but also learn. And we will not dishonor our nation by word or deed. It is true that many in the Inner Sphere see us as barbarians. Hundreds of years of propaganda leave a mark. But equally, many are eager to meet us, and it will be our privilege to meet them and show them the benefits in learning about each other. Now, get some sleep, catch a movie, or if you’ve antagonized your NCO, find a mop, because we have about eight days to go before we reach our jumpships.”

“I hate speeches,” Mary muttered when they cut the feed. “I always feel stupid.”

“Not the worst.” Colin said. “My first boss liked to start speeches with fishing anecdotes.”

“And that was bad?”

“When the anecdote took six hours to tell?”

“Yeah, bad.” Mary paused. “Did you look at the map package?”

“I did, and our intelligence people are deep in envy.”

Mary nodded. The Lyrans spent more money on their mapping than the TDF did on its battlemechs. Every world was mapped down to the square meter, and those maps were updated, if not in real time, frequently enough that it might as well be. Not only that, they had detailed notations from Lyran units about past combats, and where pirates had landed.

Mary could think of about five worlds in the Concordat that were so efficiently mapped. The more time she’d spent with her briefing materials, the more she’d realized just what an economic titan the Lyrans were—even with their current boom, the Concordat was a small fish compared to some of their individual provinces, never mind the Commonwealth as a whole.

And yet their military performance is… Mary wouldn’t want to say sub par, but it seemed oddly rigid.

On the other hand, of all the Inner Sphere Powers, the Lyrans seemed to be the ones most willing to talk, rather than shoot, maybe that was an artifact of it.

But most importantly, they were a power that had managed to casually convince Hanse Davion to let a TDF RCT through his territory with a fig leaf that wouldn’t be out of place on a comedy show.

Please, do not let me blot my copybook on this.

With that encouraging thought, Mary headed to the mess. They’d be having their “First off world” dinner, a tradition dating back to the beginning of the TDF and it was bad luck if the CO didn’t show up.

[arcticwyrm245]

definitely a career to watch, if that earlier quote from her book says anything then it will be an interesting life

[Korzon77]

Tharkad City


Mary didn’t have her old camera with her. Not enough room and it turned out that the Brannis format for chemical cartridges was hard to get and she wasn’t about to take over a cargo pod for her photos.

No, she had a top of the line Lyran built camera that she’d bought, which was compatible with all formats and used a Star League pattern mini datacore that could hold more pictures than she could take in a lifetime! It even came with a multi-use cable that could handle different outlet plugs and data entry systems.

Some people collected rocks, Mary collected pictures. Although she…

It’s a matter of scale, not kind. When she’d arrived in Samantha it had been different from Brannis.

Tharkad City was bigger, more advanced than Samantha, it was true, but that was scale, not kind.

But it was still the second capital city on her list, and Mary took pictures and enjoyed being a tourist, while ignoring the polite men who were following her. She was a foreign general, so it made sense, and they’d been kind enough to allow her and her men this freedom. And the rest of the troops were on their own tours, a bit more curated, as much for their protection as anyone elses. Mary had come to the conclusion that the joke that the Lyrans could sell vacuum to a spaceman wasn’t a joke.

Mary nodded. She had a few more hours before they’d have to get ready. And after nonstop jumps, it was good to get out and about.  She shivered a little in her heavy jacket. Well, good to get out and about if you had the proper clothes—and this was spring!

The Throne Room was vast.

Has to be, Mary thought glancing up at the two Griffin Battlemechs flanking the throne. She sincerely hoped that those pilots were good, although Mary had to wonder how useful they’d be.

On the  other hand, someone sneaking an SRM launcher to take them out is probably going to be easier for the security services to detect.

Mary shook her head. She’d had her first  meeting with the Archon when the gathering had begun, and managed to avoid making a fool out of herself, very much reminded that she was the daughter of a middle class Brannis family when she looked into Katrina Steiner’s piercing eyes. Their working meeting would happen later.

And the first person to replace her predecessor by law, Mary thought. When she’d watched the recording of Alessandro’s no confidence vote, her former XO, Thomas, now with his own regiment, had whispered “wonder how that would have played out with a Kurita?”

Mary had nearly covered her screen in what she’d been drinking at the time.

“I wonder why the Taurians made a choice of such an inferior mech?” the voice was loud, bombastic, and when Mary turned it was to see a group of people, centered on one man, weighted down with more medals than the Protector had.

They made Mary look positively drab. Her dress sash had her medals on it, but as usual, only combat medals were required and Mary, like most TDF officers had never seen the point of sticking a ton of “good conduct” style awards on the sash. Anyone you wanted to impress would be able to read them for what they were, after all. She had two wound badges from antipirate operations, a gold Roman V attesting that she had destroyed five mechs in close combat, and a few unit and individual citations.

The man who was talking must have at least twenty medals and Mary couldn’t actually figure out what they were for. None of them looked like the medals she had studied…

“Ah, the Dragons, you mean?” Mary asked. Several of the speakers glanced at her, and opened up the circle to invite her in, where she was, once again, the shortest. Behind them, Mary saw Colin. She could read the uniforms he was chatting to—logistics command and someone from Hesperus industries. She heard a bit of their talking.

“… and of course the worst thing is the way most mechwarriors think spare parts arrive on the wings of angels…”

“Yes. In addition to being Kuritan, they’re barely able to fight off a medium mech!” he looked at her. “Ah, I am General Timothy Grigs, of the Mkuranga consolidated combat arm.”

“Yes, General. The important thing is that our units aren’t designed to stand up to assault mechs—I’d certainly not want to take up arms against a Zeus, but pirates like to run and tend to run more to light and medium forces. All the fire power in the world won’t help if we can’t catch them.”

“Yes, but what pirate would dare attack a city defended by a lance of assault mechs?”

What pirate wouldn’t turn around and hit another city while you were stuck there? Mary had a feeling that wouldn’t be taken well. “Well, our main objective isn’t to defend—it’s to hunt them down and kill them. If you chase a pirate band away, you have peace for a season. If you end their existence, you have peace, at least from them, for the rest of eternity.”

“And you think you can do better than the Commonwealth?” The other fellow had far fewer medals, and a thinner face, but he didn’t sound happy.

“We have different specializations. The Concordat is small compared to your nation, and because of that, we had very little in the way of effective rear areas. Especially recently, we can’t take advantage of the reserves you have.”

‘Yes, as I always say, you can never have too many Assault mechs!” With that, Grigs picked up another glass from a passing waitress.

From his look, it wasn’t his first.

“Why I remember an attempted revolt, dreadful thing, a bunch of miners taking a mine hostage so they could extort more money from their employers.” He took another sip. “Our unit was deployed and my second in command, supposedly an officer with great promise, wanted to just stand outside and wait for the police. The police!  I ordered our mechs in, and well, let me tell you, the miners quickly learned the error of their ways! Homemade armored cars and rockets are of little use against Lyran steel!” He winked, and gestured to some of the salad. “I received this order of Merit from the Ditronics Mining Corporation, and this one from the local baron!”

Mary blinked. Wait, those aren’t Lyran Commonwealth awards?  She didn’t even think they were allowed to wear foreign awards, or maybe those didn’t count as foreign…

“And… How did you deal with the miners.”

“As I said, an armored car is useless against an assault battlemech.”

Mary shook her head, bad memories of  a square in the Reach coming back.

“And that is why Archon Katrina herself requested my presence! She said that a man with my gifts needed to be here, where she could avail herself of my wisdom, though as you know, issues of state keep her quite busy.”

“Yes… Who’s running things in your absence. I hope they’re…” not you? “Competent.”

“Worse luck. My second in command is running things. I expect the whole planet will burn down with his foolishness. I receive continual complaints from the businessmen regarding his refusal to act without the approval of the municipal authorities. But well, he is there and I am here! Ah, my glass is empty and I—“

The rest of the circle was looking slightly embarrassed. Mary doubted the general noticed.

“Forgive me gentlemen, but I’m afraid I must lay claim to General Cheng.”  The tall, thin man had managed to just appear,  but the way the others were starting to come to involuntary attention…

Right. “Ah, Kommandant-General Winthrop Yarlows,” Mary said. “I was hoping to speak to you.”

“And I, you. I know that we all enjoy relaxation, but well, needs must when the devil drives.”

“Maybe I could come along!”General Grigs said. “I had quite the conflict with pirates back in the day, and well, they learned their lessons about facing me.”

“No, I wouldn’t want to interfere with your time here.” Yarlows said. “Besides, some of these younger officers can benefit from your stories.”

The younger men looked at the Kommandant-general with carefully neutral expressions that probably only fooled Grigs.

With that, he and Mary swept away from the band.

“Apologies. This is an open meeting and well, people are curious.”

“I’m not bothered,” Mary said. “He’s an adviser?”

“That is his official title. Archon Katrina shall keep him here, and safely far away from anyone else, until he retires.”

“Ah.”

But why couldn’t you just court martial him and be done with it?  Maybe the same reason I had Lord Espinoza just go off and become an ambassador instead of arresting him.

But now they were leaving the great hall, Mary’s subordinates joining them.

[Sir Chaos]

But why couldn’t you just court martial him and be done with it?  Maybe the same reason I had Lord Espinoza just go off and become an ambassador instead of arresting him.

She´s already learning the political side of things.

[Daryk]

There's no "maybe" about it...  8)