The Bull and the Genie: Book II, The Ninety-five Theses

[Korzon77]

“Your position is at some risk,” the man in Will’s office said. “There’s doubt about your position regarding the Concordat.”

“The Concordat that is still neutral? The Concordat that solved our warship problem?” Will leaned back. “That Concordat?”

The man didn’t have a real name, and he didn’t have an official rank in ROM which meant he was very high up indeed—or the messenger of someone high up.

But a capital world’s precentor was also pretty high up.

“They have radically increased their military, both in terms of size and equipment.”

“And the Combine, to say nothing of the Suns, could eat them for lunch,” Will replied. “You’ve seen our forensic accounting. Most of their increased budget is going into civilian, not military areas.”

Perils of trying to be the nice guys. Solving the Aurugian crisis had been step one of lots, and right now, the Concordat was heavily involved in uplift and economic assistance projects.

“And if they ally with the Dav—“

Will cut him off with a barked laugh. “Have you seen the adventures of Amos Hoglough and the Davion prince as they talk about forcing the heir of Taurus to marry and subject herself to his pawing. I gotta admit, they dropped some money on the drool.” He reached out for his once a day treat of some whiskey, imported from Tennessee. “Look, here’s the thing. I know on Terra, people read: relations are improving and think that soon Thomas is gonna try to marry off one of his kids to the Davions. In truth, “relations are improving” means that most Taurians are willing to accept that the Davion royal family are not actual demons. They just sold their souls to them.”

“That is your opinion.”

Will took a drink. “That is the opinion of anyone who bothers to walk around with his eyes open.” He stared at the bottle, and at his empty glass, and then sighed, putting it back down. “And now I get requests to help ROM with some operations, but compartmentalized so that nobody here knows what is going on.”

“Plausible deniability. I would think you would remember that.”

“I do. But I also wonder if someone is getting clever. We don’t need clever. We need to maintain the course, and encourage Edward to reign in his father’s paranoia and keep putting money into water purifiers instead of mechs.”

“The dangers of the current alliance to Blake’s Path, especially if Taurus joins—“

Will rolled his eyes. Great, someone has decided that Taurus is about to ask to be annexed by the Suns, and damn all evidence to the contrary.

“Then focus on the alliance, not Taurus. Hell, Katrina kicked this off with her peace proposal. Maybe try to arrange for the Lyrans to dominate the Davions, so that they focus on making money instead of invading their neighbors?”

“It is the Blessed Order’s view that allowing any power to gain dominance is not in line with Blake’s Will.”

And that was a threat.

“Fine,” Will said. “I’ll help out ROM, but I’m going to be damned upset if they pull something and then scuttle back to Terra to leave my local people playing cleanup.”

“As long as you do your duty, there will be no disorder.”

“Yeah. And since I have you here, can you please tell me what is happening to all of our HPG upgrades? The increased levels of use has some of my adepts losing their hair, and unlike me, they don’t look good with a bald spot.”

“Our budgetary issues have been complex.”

“There’s a hole and you’re pouring money down it.”

“Yes. We are… increasing security measures.”

******. Security measures was a code word for building up a military. Will had been in ROM and knew just how damned many mechs there were on Terra, to say nothing of the rest of their forces.

If we’re having to play games with HPG upgrades, someone is getting a lot of toys. Maybe a division, maybe more. Calm down Will. Don’t you go running to some conclusion. A division is big, but if they’re talking about upgrading security in general, that’s not actually a lot of forces per station.

“Well, when you get back, please whisper in some ears and mention what service we offer that lets us get paid.”

“I shall. Blake’s Will Be Done.”

He left, without offering to shake hands.

Will turned and stared out the window. When did Blake become a god? Oh, Blake had always been venerated, the man who had established Comstar when everyone else was burning the galaxy down. Of course, ROM saw… well not unredacted, but less redacted records.

A man. A great man, our Confucius. But that man hadn’t been speaking, if Will was any judge of character, of “Blake’s Will” in the sense of the will of a long-dead man’s desires for his descendants. Not in the sense of the founder of a philosophy.

But in the sense of a saint.

Or a God.

“Thou shalt have no other Gods before me.” Will murmured. If you were following a God’s will—well, God defined morality, and his saints and angels spoke his will. Saint or God, any messages would be by definition the right thing to do.

But Blake wasn’t saying anything. It was people talking in his name.

I’ve been here for thirty years. Loved it. No politics, beyond the Concordat’s. But…

Will touched a button on his desk. “Darcy, I need you to run down to the archives for me. I got another hankering to indulge my inner history teacher.”

There was a sigh. “Yes, Boss, for what? The history of bootleg operations?”

“That was last year, and I have my whiskey now. No, I want you to pull up educational materials for our new acolytes. Focus on the history of the order, and biographies of Blake. Say for the last 50 years.”

“Yes, sir.”

The blessed order. Blessed because we work for humanity? Or blessed because we are defined as blessed, no matter what we do? Hope I’m wrong and this is just a little twinge in my brain.

But I don’t think so. Something’s happening on Terra.

[Daryk]

Heh... in this universe, I have no doubt "something's happening"... ;)

[Korzon77]

June 3027:



It reminds me of Brannis when I was growing up. Mary shook her head as she walked away from the dropship. The port was really just a huge empty plain, many areas torn up so badly by dropships that they couldn’t be used until someone brought out some earth movers to smooth the surface.

There were scattered dropships, customers of the few jumpships the RCT had detected on the way in.

The speed they’d deployed at proved the scuttlebutt was right—Edward wanted to strike while the iron was hot, and they’d staged through the Commonwealth while the Third had staged through the Draconis Combine, with a bit of diplomatic dickwaving when they’d moved through the Federated Suns to the Combine. Some Federated Suns official had decided that diplomatic pouch or no, he had to investigate for agricultural parasites.

And the laugh is—he was being honest. Just someone who was so completely tunnel visioned that it’d taken a direct order from Hanse Davion to clear everything up.

I don’t envy Gregory for his command. The Combine was a friendly neutral to the Concordat, and Mary understood why, but even a blind person could see that it wasn’t like them. Not like the Lyrans, or the Free Worlds League or hell, even the Davions. But she wasn’t the Protector.

“Thank God and All his Angels.”

“General?” the diplomatic aide asked. Like Mary, Mark Stevens was young for his posting, but he’d done his doctorate about the Rim Worlds Republic’s successor states.

Mary shook her head. “Nothing.”

And then she saw the convoy approaching them. There were several quite modern armored cars, imported from the Lyran’s, if Mary was any judge, two Wasps on the side and a…

“What’s that.”

“The Royal transport.”  Glancing at Mary, Mark gestured. “The king said he won’t drive in some expensive toy, so the royal transport is locally sourced, every bit of it.”

It looks like it. Slabs of armor, likely because it was industrial grade, a half-dozen exhausts connected to the grumbling ICE engine and no less than 12 wheels, probably because the aforementioned industrial grade armor was heavy as hell.

On the other hand, there was a certain bit of pride to it. We built this.

Like Brannis and their steamers.

But the vehicle came to a halt, and moments later, a door suited for an APC opened, a pair of expensively dressed guards (but with every well maintained laser rifles), jumped out and took up positions. Behind her, Mary knew that the TDF contingent were observing the guards.

And then Hendrick Grimm III emerged. All of him.

He was fat, but it wasn’t a helpless fat. He might be waddling and balding, but he moved with an assurance that showed he was fit. He was smiling at Mary as he towered over her, and his booming voice echoed over the port.

“Greetings Cousins from the Periphery! I’ve prepared a feast for us all, so that you can recover from your trip through the savage wilderness of the Inner Sphere!”

“Well, it has been a long trip, Your Majesty,” Mary said. “Though I’m not certain of too much of a feast—I know my people are just dying to start their PT again.”  She paused. “This is my diplomatic aide, Mark Stevens.”

“Ah! Excellent, I trust he shall be more helpful than the diplomats you were saddled with during that unfortunate affair in Aurugia.”

Mary paused. How did he… And then Hendrick smiled again, but his eyes were shrewd.

It doesn’t matter how he knows, he knows. And that means he has some sources of information we don’t know about. Which he has just told me, so that I don’t waste everyone’s time by assuming he’s an idiot.

“I would like to think I learned a great deal from our mistakes.”

“Excellent. And may I congratulate you and your forces on removing Redjack Ryan from the world of the living?” Now the king looked anything but friendly. “I would have liked to have done it myself, but alas, we cannot have all of our dreams.”

“No. But I just comfort myself knowing that he’s dead.”

“Indeed!” Hendrick boomed. “Now let us be off, and let me introduce you to the creation of our world’s engineers!”

Well, it’s  on the ground, so it can’t fall out of the sky, Mary thought, as she and her staff were herded into the luxurious interior.  Who has a chandelier on an APC?

[/i]

“And he has been inserted?”

“Yes, Celestial Wisdom. The subject took a vacation  for mountain climbing. And we were able to secure the subject and obtain all the information we needed. The assistance of—“

Max cleared his throat and the man fell silent. “There is no need to mention that party. Even here.” Normally I’d fear betrayal, but they have as much to lose as we do. But it would do well to not risk anyone else finding out.

“Yes Celestial Wisdom. The cosmetic surgical procedures were successful, as was the interrogation, since there was no need to preserve the body. We disposed of the subject and inserted your man. As per your orders, he will take no actions until the message is sent.”

“Good.” It would be tempting to use him as a source of information, but that would expose him to detection, much like My Hanse, who will never consciously realize he is serving my interests.

Maximilian enjoyed watching Davion’s speeches. He himself couldn’t tell the difference.

But no, he needed no information, and the Taurians were just another Periphery nation, a slightly more civilized group of bandit kings squatting on ancient glories and taking advantage of the knowledge their betters had left them. But they would be very useful to him, when the time came.

“Leave the trigger information with me.”

“Yes, Celestial Wisdom.”

Because when I need them to carry out my will, what better way to do so than offer them an alliance to take vengeance on Davion after one of his secret agents kills the Protector and his entire family?

With that, he rose and left the room, ignoring the kneeling scientists. He had much to do, after all.

[Korzon77]

“ We’re going to find Kerensky’s people.”

Mary sighed. “You mean like everyone else?” She stared at the scientist. “I’m not going to detail half the RCT to escort you while you explore every local haunted landing spot.”

After all, half the tourist business in this part of the periphery involves looking for Kerensky. Even odds if someone dug out a “landing spot’ themselves, or if you’re just looking at some abandoned quarry or mine.

And she had other issues to deal with. Oberon wasn’t a bad world, nicely temperate—but the first mines had been dug upstream from the settlements, and  the water was all contaminated by heavy metals. Moving the city wasn’t an option so their first shipment of gift purifiers were now replacing the old sand-filter designs that had resulted in nearly 20 percent more still births and congenital defects than you’d get in most Inner Sphere worlds.

And they don’t have the budget here for fully staffed special needs schools.  Mary had seen a dozen or more beggars just outside of their compound, many of them suffering from obvious mental and physical disabilities. It said a lot for King Grimm that he’d established orphanages and welfare homes, and if they were nightmares compared to what you got on Tharkad or Samantha, they were better than the old ways, which generally involved your father and a pillow being pressed down on your face.

Which brought her back to the cheerful scientist in front of her who was talking gibberish.

“How are you going to find him.”

“With a telescope.”

Mary blinked. Right. Professors don’t feel happy if they aren’t showing how smart they are so what does…

Light speed.

“We’re closer, less of a light-speed delay.”

“Correct. Amateurs love to search the stars, forgetting that if Kerensky’s people settled a world 1000 light years away, the light of their settlements would have yet to reach the Inner Sphere, but the astronomy department has deepspace telescopes.  Mobile telescopes. We know when Kerenksy left. We know the last locations where evidence of his flotilla was found, and by that, we can estimate when he could have come to other worlds, which means we know where our telescopes must be to observe events in ah, the proper time.”

You’d have to find them when they were transmitting, or when they were using their transit drives. Mary wasn’t a scientist, but there was a strict limit beyond which most transmissions got “lost”.  And Kerensky’s exodus, for all that it had a lot of people on it, had only taken a tiny fraction of a world’s population. Even today, presuming they weren’t all dead, Mary would be surprised if they had more people than say the Arugians did.

All of which meant it was time to remind someone who was in charge.

“That is a hobby. But your job is to start charting out inhabitable worlds, giving us a baseline for anti-piracy missions.” To find inhabited worlds that were either victims of pirates or bases for them—or both. They had some information about polities like the Hanseatic League and Chainelane Isles, a mixture of rumors and fact, although Mary had the distinct feeling that the League wasn’t happy at their presence, from the actions of the “Trader” who had been providing Oberon with equipment.  She’d asked the intelligence people if they could discretely tap into his communications with the gaudy dropship he owned, and one that, unusually, had a number of people living on it full time even in port.

“For that reason, I want you to focus on local systems, moving out, and especially matching them to local databases.”

“But Ma’am, this could be—“

“Kerenksy has been gone for a few centuries, I doubt making him wait a few months will be a problem.”

“Yes Ma’am.”

“Good.” Because I want to make certain we don’t have any more warship surprises, Mary thought as the deflated scientist left. Granted, that’s why they had some securely stored “special weapons”, but beyond that, her orders weren’t just to deal with pirates, but to find any possible sources of warships, say abandoned caches, and most especially anyone flying a wolverine flag, or who knew who they were.  Given that they didn’t have magic detectors, that would mean finding inhabited worlds, tracking down rumors, and if they were lucky, maybe getting some good information.

This part of the universe had always been a little sketchy. Oh, rumors of secret shipyards, and worlds full of mad CASPER robots, but in truth, after the fall of the RWR, most groups had been content to stick close to the Inner Sphere.

But sketchy didn’t mean empty, and Mary had no intention of wandering into Terra incognita unprepared.

And speaking of that… Mary pulled out a folder, full of everything King Grimm knew about the Chainelane Isles, which was… not a lot. But they were always at war, and always wanting new toys, which said pirates to Mary. Once the astronomers finished their jobs, it would be time to send a battalion  over to say hello, offer them protection, while subtly letting them know that piracy might be a bad investment.

And maybe TDI’s fusion factory will be finished by then. That had been the crown jewel in their “woo King Grimm” campaign, and if they were practically antique, age of war designs by Inner Sphere standards, they were loads better than the coal fired power plant that Mary had seen on the tour.

Even better, so far from the Concordat, only the supervisors were Concordat citizens, and they weren’t just supervising, they’d be training Grimm’s own people, who would ultimately be putting all the money back into his economy and spending it on locals.  Mary had already seen that—a couple of  diners had sprung up next to the construction site.

And nothing made piracy unattractive like being able to make just as much money working eight hours a day without dying to an angry mob or a competing pirate to ruin your week.

“Sometimes I wish I was just a mechwarrior.” In school, bribery was this terrible thing that showed how bad a nation was… and here they were, engaging in bribery on a grand scale.

Mary chuckled. “All in a good cause.” Bribery or not, if it made piracy less attractive, she was for it. And it wasn’t all bribery. Mary and Grimm’s battlemechs were part two of the deal—reminding everyone that it taking, rather than trading, would be far more costly than it was worth.


Where are the pirates, Mary wondered. They couldn’t have all vanished with the collapse of Ryan’s idiotic move. Plans to go after the pirate space facilities were on hold—Star’s End didn’t just have a lot of asteroids to hide in, but a very complex “terrain” when it came to KF drives.

The naval contingent wanted to use the slow and steady approach, and Mary couldn’t blame them. Nobody wanted to explain to the Protector why an expensive jumpship had been turned into origami.

And that means that the only fights I’ve been in have been working with Grimm’s people, to try to turn them into an organized combined force military, and fighting between the science astronomers, the ‘we’re going to find Kerensky astronomers,’ and of course, the reason you’re here to chart out the worlds, finding out what is actually in this neighborhood instead of relying on hundred year old rumors.

They’d already found out some good information. There was a world that hadn’t been on any records just twenty light years away, orbiting a red-dwarf in life zone, and when they’d had a look see, they’d found a partial DOME terraforming job, along with about 22,000 people, descendants of the survivors of a misjump. They’d been doing fairly well, though it’d taken some time to convince them that the exploration team weren’t pirates. Only a few of the original crew and passengers were alive, and, most of the descendants weren’t that interested in leaving a hard but certain life. Probably because they were mostly descended from Combine political prisoners who were being sent to…

Well, it had been eighty years ago, and Mary couldn’t be certain they were from the Combine, despite the coincidental language similarities, and in any case, everyone knew that there were no religions save those approved of by the Coordinator, so obviously a bunch of people of the Mormon faith couldn’t possibly be from the Combine. They’d left a battalion and engineering company to give them a hand with digging some much-needed irrigation systems.

With that potential catastrophe solved, Mary had gone on to other work. Six months of sweeps through near space, made difficult by the fact that Comstar’s unusual generosity regarding mobile HPG units had vanished with the Potemkin, hadn’t shown a lot. Mary hadn’t expected it to. Pirates didn’t like to fight, and they’d be laying low, but by letting everyone know that this RCT wasn’t just going to show the flag and run away, they might find that just laying low wouldn’t work as well as it had in the past.

Which left Mary negotiating little issues like the noise complaints.

Yes. The bandit kingdom of the Oberon Confederation had discovered the joys of letting the people petition their government for the redress of wrongs, such as too much work in their compound, leading to too much noise for the neighbors.

Mary had eventually resolved that issue by agreeing to shut down all work by 11:00pm local time, subject to emergencies, at least until they could get proper enclosures finished. The king had laughed. 

Grimm was an interesting sort. Loud, fat, enjoyed eating, but shrewd, and while he was aging, no slouch in a battlemech, though like a lot of leaders, and not just in the Periphery, he tended to head for the shooting rather than control his people.

And while he was definitely in charge, or rather nobody had been so stupid as to try to overthrow him (especially since things were pretty good, compared to the past), a lot of decisions were left up to the people, like say petitioning Mary.

Or, in one case she’d seen, wandering out and grabbing random people to form a jury for a man accused of rape. The argument had been that since nobody knew the trial was even going to start, nobody would be able to stack the jury. An hour later, the Jury heard their evidence, the judge had ruled that since he’d been found guilty of knifing someone last year, good riddance to bad trash, and there was a new body dangling from a street light. That had required some massaging of the Taurian reporters with them, with weasel worlds like a “young society” and “informal justice.”

And in a lot of places, not all of them on the periphery, the fact that she was a hooker who said “no” would be enough to get him off.

Still, Mary had to admit that in some ways the world reminded her of growing up on  Brannis, building what they could, and figuring out who to work around what they didn’t. Grimm wasn’t the worst leader but…

Well, I probably won’t be stationed here when it comes time to see if they can find a successor as good as he was. I—

“General, we just got a drop from the HPG station. You’re going to want to see this?”¬¬¬

“Food fight at Hanse’s wedding?” Mary ask, then felt a hollow feeling in her stomach at the captain’s expression.

A few moments later, she was staring at the video.

"My dear... I give you the Capellan Confederation."

****** Davions. They just can’t leave well enough alone.

“Orders, General?”

“Taurus already knows. But send FLASH messages to all deployed units by jump courier. We are to continue operations, but if they are working with any participants in this conflict, they’re to immediately declare neutrality and withdraw. We’re here to fight pirates.”

“And if we come across a battle?”

We shouldn’t. The reason we’re here is to free up units for their next war, but…

“Humanitarian relief only.”  Mary gestured at the chaos of the wedding reception. “Force to only be used in self-defense. Any injured persons we care for will be held with us until I can get some further orders from the Concordat.” She glared at the screen. “And on that note, I have to yell for orders from Taurus.”


The orders had been sent before the Liao delegation had even left Terra.  Sorted through several stations, they came to Samantha. A number of routines, normally used for sorting mail were triggered, including some normally restricted to ROM. A certain Precentor noticed them, but let them pass. After all, need to know was a thing and ROM had been keeping watch on the Concordat.

But this did not go to ROM. The man who received it was wearing the face of a man whose corpse mouldered in a grave behind his house. A man with no close family. A man with unimpeachable credentials of hostility to the Davions.

A man tasked with crewing the Dropship that carried the Protector and his family.

Had he been a Davion, the Concordat might have caught him. But the Concordat—and the Protector—were looking in the wrong direction, and so the Taurian Concordat would be plunged into the worst crisis since the Reunification Wars…



From “Fifty-thousand Ghosts: The Samantha Atrocity and the Forging of the Modern Concordat.”

Luthien Republic Press, 3140

[Daryk]

Well, THAT's not going to end well... ::)

[Korzon77]

“Protector, we have to increase our forces—the Davions are going to use this as a cover to invade!”

Thomas sighed. Grover had been going on about this ever since they’d boarded the dropship for his quick trip to MacLeod’s land.

Grover wanted them to forge an alliance with the Capellans, using their still hidden fleet to stop the Davions.

 And then we destroy our relationship with the Lyrans.  Thomas wanted to do what Grover asked. It would be the chance to smash the Davions—but the consequences…

No.

“We’re stronger than we ever have been,” Thomas said. “The Davions will keep, and I don’t want to get involved in this war. Let them beat each other to death for the right to rule a corpse.”

 Edward, you would be proud of me.  “Strap in, honey,” Thomas told Janice, the eight year old obediently moving to her seat as they felt the rumble of the thrusters.

It’d be good to be back home.



 The agent waited at his post. He’d set several small packages in the attitude control systems. Not the main drive. The main drive might fail, but his orders were clear. This was to be an assassination. The evidence had to be clear.

 Already there were the bank drafts from a covert source… difficult, but not impossible to trace back to New Avalon. A few HPG receipts in the trashcan at the house, evidently forgotten, contacting a bank in Solaris known for acting as a go-between. Nothing more. Too clear a trail might lead to questions that must not be asked. Just the natural mistakes made by a traitor in the pay of the Davions.

 Complete with a single detonation module at home, forgotten, evidently, where it had fallen behind a desk. The Taurians would find it. And they would take it apart and find that the module was supposed to be radio detonated. But that it had been modified to be detonated on a timer.

 Just what a perfidious nation would do to silence a traitor.

 The agent felt the first shudder through the ship as the first tiny explosions went off, lobotomizing the complex systems that kept the supremely non-aerodynamic vehicle flying. Alerts sounded, shouts.

 The agent did nothing. For there was nothing to do, save bask in the fact that the Celestial Wisdom would know that his faith had not been misplaced and that his agent’s life—and death—had served the Celestial Wisdom’s will.

  [/i]

 

Traffic Control, Samantha Downport.



There were things you never forgot. Taurus Prime suddenly spinning, utterly out of control was one of those.

“Taurus Prime! This is the downport! Hit your thrusters and head back to orbit!” Janinne Richards said. If they could get into orbit they could find out—but then, the main engines went to full, the modified Overlord rising up, killing its velocity.

 C’mon, c’mon you ass-heavy bastard, get up.  It was still pointing in the right way and it didn’t matter what vector it had, just as long as it—

And then half the attitude jets locked on, visible even over the blast of the main engines, and the ship, barely 50,000 feet in the sky, was now spiraling down… for the city.

ALERT, ALERT, CIVIL DEFENSE CONDITION RED! CIVIL DEFENSE CONDITION RED!

The speakers were blaring, but there was no  time to get to the shelters, and the crowds out for a pleasant Sunday walk were probably wondering what that blazing star was in the sky and why was it getting bigger—



“ABANDON SHIP, ABANDON SHIP!”

Thomas’ security detachment was shoving him down the corridor, the spinning ship alternately pinning them against one wall and then trying to fling them into another. He had a death grip on a crying, terrified Janice.

Then the lights went out, came back on, and there was the life pods, designed as  a final resort.

But then the ship spun again, and Thomas was pinned against the wall, a body guard falling into him. Something broke in him, and Janice screamed as her arm snapped like a twig.

The open hatch had a single security officer, hanging onto it. “Sir! Hurry!” he called.

 Not enough time.

Thomas reared up and pulled Janice handing her up to another guard. The girl trying to cling to him.

“Daddy!”

“Be brave, my little treasure.” He held her up and the guard moved, but the damned ship twisted  again and the guard fell, only Grover managing to grab Janice. Grover held on to her.

 What are you doing! Climb! Climb!

But Grover didn’t, and then Thomas realized why. He was timing the spinning of the ship. And then, in the moment when the terrible force on them was lessened, Grover  threw Janice down the corridor, into the waiting arms of the guard.

“Go! Go, dammit, go!” Thomas roared.

“Protecto—“

“Edward is the Protector now! Go! Save her!”

“Dadd—“ And with that the hatch shut and Janice…

 She’ll be safe. Edward will take care of her. My son, I’m sorry to lay this burden upon you.

He glanced at Grover.

“Thank you.”

“It has been an honor, Thomas.”

And then the pressure was back and redoubled, and there was no time to speak as the lights died, one last time.



Taurus Prime impacted in downtown Samantha, in the business district. It was a kindness. Taurians tended to take their weekends seriously and there were few retail stores or restaurants there. When the dropship impacted at the base of the 100 story Taurus Financial center, just over 500 workers were in, and died with, the building as it tumbled.

The total casualties would eventually be around 50,000 people, counting the crew and passengers of the dropship. Had it been a work day, as many as 500,000 could have died.

But it was cold comfort for those reeling from the worst disaster to ever strike the Taurian capital.

Just outside of town, at his family’s estate, Edward Calderon stared in horror at the rising smoke, just before he was bundled off to a secure location.

“It was the last good day I had for a long time,” he would later say.



From:  The Fall of the House of Liao

3135 Sian.  Federated Commonwealth Press.









 

[Daryk]

Hmmm... that last citation makes it sound like they caught the Cappies at it... ;)

[Korzon77]

“No. No. No.” Will shook his head. “The station stays on lockdown.”

“Sir,” the PR rep started. “I understand that this is a tense time, but now above all—“

“We keep our doors closed.” Will gestured at the big display the audio muted, showing the temporary morgue, where the bodies that had been recovered were waiting to be ID’d by relatives were waiting.

Lines were stretching for city blocks. Other images were played, the devastation in what had been a shining example of the good fortunes of the Concordat, black flags of mourning, Davion’s being burned in effigy. The TDF had interned every Davion they could find—for their own safety.

Last and not least, the empty coffin of the Protector.

Cremated in the explosion. There would be a simple plaque in the family crypt. All Edward had said was that if his father’s remains were dispersed over the planet of his birth, he could think of no greater honor.

And the people were quietly, or not so quietly enraged. Will thought he knew the Taurian temper.

He’d been wrong. They weren’t getting loud. Most of the demonstrations had been quiet. But every Taurian was thinking the same thing. Once again, Taurus had been rising—and the Inner Sphere had sought to cast them down.

It was the scary type of angry.

“We cannot be certain that someone out there isn’t blaming every offworlder for this atrocity and Comstar is the last remaining part of the old Star League. We don’t need to risk it, and we don’t need to force Edward to divert people. Now, the information, what do we have?”

Everyone looked at each other, and the legal officer nodded. “The requests for financial information were followed, and our own work…”

“It was a slush fund in New Avalon. Disguised, but… The Taurians were able to provide us with information they recovered from the home of the agent.”

Will frowned. “And is there evidence that this has been used before?”

“Yes. The Davions are denying everything, but we found some transactions used to supply Davion insurgents in Liao space. I don’t think they expected this level of scrutiny. We ah…” he glanced around.

“Everyone’s cleared.”

“Well, the one recovered detonation module, we have a source, and it was produced by a company on El Dorado, for advanced demolitions. The Taurians believe the agent thought he was setting a timer, but a second agent set it off.”

“Does anyone know about this second agent?”

“No sir, but the transmission could have been fed in through the sensors on the dropship. Because of that he could have been anywhere in line of sight.”

“Keep me informed.”

“The problem is the Taurians are going to be going to war with the Federated Suns, at the very moment they’ve started a war in the Inner Sphere,” Stacy said. “They’ll do damage but this war…”

“Can only go one way if it starts.” Will sighed, feeling all of his years creeping up on him. “I want you go and check and double-check. We—“

The door opened and an acolyte entered.

“What is it?” Will asked. The meeting was secured so anyone coming in had something important to say.

“A message from the First Circuit.”

“Who?”

“There was no identifier, sir, but it’s confirmed, Hilton Head.”

“Right.” Will took the flimsy and stared at it, and then blinked. “The First Circuit, in its wisdom has declared that we are to take no action.”

“Sir?” Stacy asked. “But—“

“Perhaps diplomacy at a higher level?” Another adept asked.

“Not our business.” Will shook his head. “Go to your own departments. Keep gathering information, but no statements. We’re neutral, boilerplate out how much we hate war.”

“Yes sir.”

A few moments later, Will was alone in his office. What the hell is this? It was from the First Circuit, the cipher’s were good, but no personal identifiers.

But only someone on the First Circuit would be able to send this. But why not make it a full First Circuit order?

Will called up his own programs. Convincing a Comstar computer to spit out dirty limericks was a joke—but also needed some skill.

“Right, you were sent by the First Circuit, so the routing information… Oh my…” Will frowned. The Routing information had been deleted. By order of the First Circuit.

Or someone on it. Losing the mail was about as close to a mortal sin as you could get, and having the computers forget…

Only Tiepolo could do that unilaterally, but why? He’d just tell Will. Fine. Lets see what the ping information says. You could tell the computers to forget, but the “ping” information letting each station know it had received communications was stored in the buffer, part of the HPG network mechanics, and you couldn’t pull it out. If you did, ping headers might duplicate by mistake and crash the system.

Sometimes Will wondered if all the great houses who wanted the HPG network considered that the HPG’s were only fifty percent of the work. The other fifty percent was all the software that went into handling the billions of messages that went across the worlds of man. Had whoever sent this considered that…

Evidently not. But then it’s not in the main menu. That required a data dump, raw code, and not many people could look that it. And more than a few higher ups considered the nuts and bolts beneath them. Not Will. Will leaned back while his decompiler ground through the information.

Maybe I’m just following a wild snark but— the beep brought him up. Station Dieron? What the hell? That’s Waterly’s turf, and why would she be ordering us to shut up… And why does she have Tiepolo’s codes? Is he using her?

Will leaned back. Normally their job would be to try to keep the Taurians from doing something stupid. But… not now.

And Waterly had almost lost her position over handing the Dracs information on the movements of Melissa Steiner. And…

Getting the Taurians to attack her new husband’s realm would be useful for the Combine.

Will shook his head. Easy, Will, let’s not go running off. Right now things stank, but it was an awfully thin line to go on.

“But… These are personal ciphers, let’s see if they pop up anywhere else.”

Will got to work as the sunlight faded behind him, parts of the city still dark. Behind downtown, the searchlights of the recovery efforts still blazed.

An A class station handled millions of messages, and even Will’s program took time to churn through it, consulting the ping information. He stretched and looked out on the street. Not many people were out, even though normally you’d see crowds going to eat. People were staying home.

And then it beeped again.

Several messages, including a cluster a month ago, downloaded and sent out to… A public terminal?

And one other one, two weeks ago, when the Protector had left on his trip.

The last date that crewman would have been available to talk to.

Will typed in his override code, after isolating the information on his secure computer. He might not be ROM any more, but only an idiot played games on a connected unit—if he wanted it to remain secret.

But…

Then Will blinked. The computer didn’t know the code. Someone was communicating in a code that Comstar didn’t know, using Precentor Dieron’s authorization, which could keep any other station from noticing the transmission.

I have no idea what this is. It didn’t have to be related to the bombing. It could be a coincidence.

And this could destroy the Order, at least here. Will couldn’t just go screaming this to Terra or the Protector, not without proof.

But if she is… Provoking a war was…

“Sir?”

Will turned and blinked. “Shouldn’t you be asleep, Stacy?”

“I was, then I noticed that your office lights were still on.”

“Ah.” Will frowned. “Just thinking. You were Terra born, weren’t you.”

“Los Angeles, yes.”

“I was…” Will gestured out the window. “You can’t see the world from here. Little outback world in the suns. Got my first job for Comstar when I was ten, carrying the mail,”

“Didn’t the world have a service for that?”

“They did, and if you were lucky they wouldn’t look through your mail. Turned out it was a employment test. Parents were gone, and Adept Chang wanted to see if I’d be honest. I was, got a few beatings from my fellow urchins, but I passed, and my Eleventh Birthday was the last time I set foot on my world. I took his last name, because he gave me my life, as much as my birth parents did. Comstar’s the reason I didn’t end my life as a sharecropper, turning my liver into a booze sponge.”

Stacy leaned back. “I didn’t know you weren’t—“

“I don’t know if I can count as the citizen of any world—I mean, I’ve spent most of my life here, but I’m not a Taurian—not truly, because I have a duty to all mankind. That’s one thing they taught at ROM Academy. It rotates, you know. One year on New Dallas, one year on Lonestar… or Inglesmond. Just to remind us, every time we look out the window, of why our mission is so important. What the Sphere did to itself.” Will shook his head. “And now it may be happening again.”

“I’m certain the First Circuit knows what it’s doing sir.”

“They probably do, but sometimes I can’t help but remember the capital of New Dallas and sleep doesn’t come so easy. Run off. You’ll probably have to cover for the grumpy old man tomorrow.”

“Yes sir.”

When Stacy left, Will frowned. I need to know, but I can’t use Comstar Assets. Because if he was wrong it would be far better if Comstar could blame a rogue agent. And it would be hard to claim someone using their own people were rogue. He needed an off books group.

But Will had an idea. Comstar ciphers were known all over the Inner Sphere for being unbreakable. And they were. Even most criminal syndicates trusted them. Because they were totally secure.

Unless you happened to have the key that was buried in every one of those ciphers, dating from the Hegemony. Not that Comstar used them very often, because that reputation was vital, but sometimes…

Well, every station head keeps a blackmail file for emergencies. It’s just that I’ll be using this a little more openly.

He called on a special phone, one isolated from the larger systems of the building, and checked it with his own counter-intrusion devices. A grumpy voice answered.

“The Michelson insurance scandal. Account number 02302111A. Do I need to say anything else?”

The voice went silent.

“Now that I have your attention. I need your organization to do some investigating for me. If you do that, the information I just mentioned will never come to anyone’s attention, AND I will compensate you to… Well, a million C-bills, to start, should be enough. Depending on what you find out, the reward may be much higher.”

“What? What could be higher than that? How about saving the Concordat?”

[Daryk]

You can take the Precentor out of ROM, but you can't take ROM out of the Precentor... ;D

[Korzon77]

“Drafts from our own ****** banks!” Hanse Davion didn’t normally shout. That made it more effective. “An entire border that was safe, which now might see war, because every bit of evidence points to us murdering the Protector, along with 50,000 citizens.”

“We didn’t do it,” Quintus Allard said. There were other reports, reports of battles going well—mostly well. But the entire plan, a plan years in the making could be derailed.

“Are we certain Michael didn’t pull this off?”

“As near as we can be,” Quintus said. “The banking information—it looks like it might be something of the Capellans, but…”

“But we have no hard evidence. And we’d say that even if I’d been laughing when I pushed the button,” Hanse said.

“Sir, if the Taurians attack we should be prepared. Some of the second and third wave units can be redeployed.”

Hanse frowned. “They don’t believe us.”

“No  Sire,” Quintus said. “And not to put to great a stress on it, when Archon Katrina informed the Taurian ambassador that you would never do such a thing…”

“’This is the same man who declared war at his own wedding.’ I saw the recording.”  Hanse shook his head.

Time to be a Fox. “No. All of our units will keep moving forward. No units on the Taurian border are to go on alert.”

“Sir, if the TDF attacks!” one general said, to fall silent as Hanse shook his head.

“They’ve rebuilt. They’re far more powerful than they were, but they still needed the Lyran’s help to move their people. We all know how long it took to set up the logistics for this war, and this came out of the blue. The Taurians, if they invade, will be handicapped, and that will give us more than enough time to move forces then—without taking actions that will convince every man, woman and child in the Concordat that we really did plan this out.”

“It’s a hell of a risk, Sire,” Quintus said.

“They don’t trust anything that comes out of our mouths. We just hope that they’ll trust the evidence of their own eyes.”


Edward rubbed his eyes. He was always tired and always hoping that he might wake up from this nightmare.  Like Janice. Lord Janice and his other brothers and sisters had lost their father as well. He should be talking to them. Should be with them and Mom, but…

“And there’s been no action taken against our anti-piracy forces.”

“No, Sir, we can recal—“

“Through the Lyran Commonwealth, which has assured us Hanse Davion would not do such a thing, but probably won’t let our forces come through them to fight him.”

“They would betray us?” an adviser asked.

“They wouldn’t have to.” Edward shook his head. “They’re in a war, and that means no fast transit. Katrina Steiner could ship our people home with a clear conscience, because there’s no way they’d get home in time to change anything, not without jumpships that she can say, in all honestly, they don’t have available.”  And if she decided to go to war with us, that’d leave our units marooned in the middle of the Commonwealth.

No. Better to leave them where they were. General Cheng had already made preparations, pulled some of her units in, but so far there was nothing to report, other than her Lyran sources seemed to be as honestly shocked as everyone else.

“This makes no sense.” He shook his head. “Every unit facing us was either heading for the front or stripped to the bone. Hanse is a lot of things, but stupid? No.”

“The people…” The Minister of the Interior took a deep breath. “The people believe it was the Davions. Sir, you may be Thomas’ heir, but your position isn’t secure, especially if they think you’re letting them get away with this.”

“I know.” Everyone primed to hate the Davions. “But we can’t go off half cocked. Not unless we want an offensive that will just stall out and leave us vulnerable. Marshal Willis, I want three plans. A limited series of punitive strikes, limited territorial gains, and lastly, a full scale attack. Also, call up our reserves, but for now they’ll just take the place of offensive units.” The reserves had been equipped with the equipment the frontline units no longer needed, which meant a combination of old mechs and gear, run by reservists.

“That may take us about a month.”

“We only get one shot.” And maybe, we won’t have to. Everyone in the room knew that. Edward shook his head, and glanced at one of the monitors, this one on a 24 hour news station. There was a line of Taurians a block long outside of one of the recruiting stations. Whoever called me a leader is an idiot. I’m in front of a herd of angry bulls, desperately trying to not get run down or lead them over a cliff.

[/i]

“I say we ignore ‘em Boss.” Mike was playing devil’s advocate as he sat with his boss and the rear of the busy restaurant.

“Account number 02302111A,” Daphne said. “If they know that, they could put us all in prison for the rest of our lives. Just the name, once people start pulling on strings.”

“He’s a ****** Davion.”

“I don’t think so.”  She leaned back, running her fingers through her curly hair. “The public terminal he gave us? That was a cloaked terminal.”

Mike frowned. Cloaked terminals were terminals where the video cams weren’t disabled—that was a trick teenagers played to make prank calls and were always surprised when they got caught. No, here the video cams that kept vandals and such away were looped, showing perfectly ordinary people. It was one of Daphne’s services after all.

“And? We kept the looped material.”

“That we did.” Daphne smiled. Whoever used it didn’t consider we need the footage to loop from somewhere, so just keep filming, and then every month of so, recycle it.

But this time…

She pulled out her big, clunky pad. The Taurus-made pad was nothing like Comstar’s models, but  Daphne was a patriot even if she believed that the State shouldn’t prevent a woman and her organization from making money of the old-fashioned way.

“Here we go.” She said. “The three times the code was used for this phone.”

“Three guys. Three separate guys.” Mike leaned forward. “Okay, not someone cheating on their wife.”

“No. I had Tom go through the footage for a week before and after this.”

“He must have loved you.”

“I don’t pay him just to make loops and play games.” Daphne paused. “Here we have a good view of the guy.”

“Could be anyone.”

Yeah. The popular view was that Lyrans had blond hair, Dracs were Japanese, etc, etc, But nearly a thousand years of mixing had made mono-racial nations the exception, not the norm. Only an idiot would think that you couldn’t find any appearance you needed if you say, needed to fit into another world.

“But he came back and made a call from this phone.”

“To who?”

“Ever feel you need a new look? He called a Faceman.”

With that, Mike leaned back. “Not just a cosmetic surgeon. A Faceman.”

“Yep.” Daphne knew why he was surprised. It was one thing to get a new face. But new fingerprints? That was a little more difficult.

“One of our guys?”

“Nope. Freelancer. We’re going to talk to him.”

“Those guys live on their discretion.”

“And I find myself working for a guy who can either send us all to the Pit for the rest of our lives, or make us a lot richer. I think I’ll be able to motivate him.” Daphne said. Mike made the instinctual warding gesture at the name of the High Security Long-Term Confinement Facility. Or the Pit, actually using the remains of an SLDF fortress.

“I see your point, Boss.”

“So let’s go.”

[Daryk]

At least Edward is being clear-eyed...

[Mister Spencer]

Edward being clear-eyed is one thing. The Taurians as a whole? Right now, they're a steam engine that is silently overheating and the only thing keeping it from exploding, is the knowledge that, pretty soon, someone is going to pay.

The true question is, how surprised will everyone be when the hammer drops and it's the Cappellans who get the 'Honor' of finding out how well the TDF has learned to do expeditionary operations. And how quickly they can shake off their BSOD before scrambling to get things in place to at least partially, protect themselves from the TDF come knocking on THEIR door.

[Daryk]

When the Taurians get word it was the Cappies, they may or may not reveal their sources... THAT's what will scare them... ;)

[idea weenie]

When the Taurians get word it was the Cappies, they may or may not reveal their sources... THAT's what will scare them... ;)

If the Cappies reveal their source, that might make the Celestial Wisdom look bad.  So either the Celestial Wisdom takes the fall, the Celestial Wisdom admits they were played for a fool, or the Celestial Wisdom has to be replaced as they have lost the Mandate.

[Korzon77]

Some things you had to do yourself. Especially when someone was, on the one hand, legitimately threatening you with turning the full fury of the law on your organization—and on the other hand, offering you the kind of money that only big organizations tossed around.

It’s a government or a corporation. Big one. Daphne wasn’t that interested in foreign affairs, save for how they interfered with her own business. Contrary to every movie out there, you could become quite rich on the proceeds of one city, thank you very much. Guys who tried for multi-world criminal empires tended to come to the attention of the governments that ran those worlds…and said governments responded very poorly to people trying to muscle in on their turf.

The problem is, you could avoid muscling in on their turf, but if they decided to muscle in on yours…

Which is why I’m here. Daphne had her most reliable guys with her, guys who had been with Dad, back in the day. And all of them knew their way around a gun.

The Faceman lived in a nice little bedroom community, about twenty miles outside of Samantha. This far, the dropship hadn’t even busted windows when it went down. It was the kind of place people moved because of the (.05 percent) higher crime rate in the city while still availing themselves of all the amenities of the city, from the transport trams to ambulance service within 4 minutes of a call.

The downtown was quiet. The curfew was over, but not many people felt like celebrating—or wanted to be seen as celebrating. There were some people on the streets, eating out, walking, talking, while other’s stared at the latest news on the big screens set up by the electronics store.

But there were enough people that their cars wouldn’t be noticed.

Amateurs waited until the dark of night. Smart crooks remembered that the best way to stay free was never do anything unusual, like driving around on deserted streets in the middle of the night.

“Jake.” Marcus shrugged. “Common enough name.”

“Yeah. Hopefully we’re just finding out he’s helping some husband avoid angry wives.” Daphne said.

“Don’t want the money?” Marcus asked.

Daphne frowned. “If it keeps me under the radar, you’re damned right I don’t want this. If it turns out we’re working for the ****** Davion’s ‘I didn’t know,’ isn’t exactly gonna save us.”

“What if we find out we’re working for the Davions?”

“Then we go to the Protector,” Daphne said. Her brother was in the Guards, and she wasn’t about to help his enemies, even if he hadn’t spoken to her in a decade. “Here we are.”

The two cars parked in the visitor’s lot of the pleasant little apartment complex. Daphne and her four people strolled on in. After all, everyone had friends.

“Room 25,” Marcus murmured. “Corner apartment.”

Daphne nodded. Good choice for someone who might need to run. She bet both windows were easily opened. The stopped at the door and then… Daphne held out her hand.

Hmmmm…

“What is it boss?”

“The carpet.” Daphne gestured. The corridor carpet was heavy shag, probably so that the thundering herds of kids wouldn’t upset the people trying to sleep in.

But that meant that if you opened the door… She looked back down the hall way.

Yep. Every door to an apartment had the shag in front of it crushed down by the movements of the door when it had been opened.

Probably another reason our Faceman was here. Most apartments had their doors opening inward. Something about not getting smacked in the face. But some? They had them opening outward because about twenty years ago, there’d been a spate of invasion robberies that got enough publicity that some places built reinforced doors that were harder to push in.

Never mind that all you’d have to do would be wait for a housewife to open the door while her hands were full of produce. Never mind that the gang that did that got arrested after their fifth attempt. But people had a nasty habit of taking the news and building up a story until they assumed their apartment building was going to be the next target for the Lost Soldiers of Kerensky, who for some reason were moonlighting as robbers.

But it didn’t change the fact that the door hadn’t been opened, at least in the last few days.

“Marcus? Open it.”

“Right, Boss.”

Now’s the dangerous part. Someone walking along might notice them. The cameras weren’t an issue—none of them were pointing at the door because why bother? Monitor the elevators and stairwells and you had everything you needed without spying on your tenants.

And Daphne bet they were looped, at least on this floor.

“Alarm’s off,” Marcus muttered, running one of his magic tools over the door frame.

Very magic. Guns were easy, but his scanner had been built on Terra and was probably the most illegal thing they had.

“Manual lock, give me a second.”

A few seconds later, they were in the room. A weak meow greeted them. There was a cat laying on the floor.

“What the ******?”

Daphne knelt down. “It’s dehydrated.” Daphne wasn’t a cat person, but her secretary was, and you learned some things in self-defense.

And this meant that nobody was here. Nobody had been here for a while. The cat wouldn’t be here if they had. “Tom, give the cat some water.”

“Boss?”

“Someone gave us a ready made alibi. We hadn’t heard from him and were worried about the cat, which needs a living cat. Everyone else, on me.”

The group moved into the room. It looked like a normal apartment, but… Daphne sniffed.

Something had gone off. “Marcus, bathroom.”

“Right.” They moved to the bathroom and opened it. It was clean.

Really ****** clean. Gleaming, like someone had gone over it with detergents.

So where was…

“Drain,” Marcus said. He bent down and sniffed, then wrinkled his nose. “Wanna bet something got stuck in the drain.”

“Part of our faceman, I bet,” Daphne said. She looked around. Kill him in here, leave the cat, probably cut him up and left with the parts, but a chunk got stuck and even with the cleaners, it’d start rotting eventually,.

If the room had been dirty they might have ignored it, or if it had been clean without the smell…

Bad luck. And whoever hired them…

“Search the place.” So they killed him. If not for our guy, by the time anyone checked the place, they’d find a dead cat and would never even smell the stuff coming from the bathroom.

But not locals. Nobody has a reason to kill a faceman, especially with the ‘****** you’ measures some of them put in place.

“Found his gear,” Cindy said. “Under the bed.”

“Kind of a crappy place to put it,” Tom said from where he was letting the cat drink.

“Not really. If the cops have kicked your door in, no place is good enough. This was just to keep guests from wondering through.”

“Blanks are gone. The data chips are also gone,” Cindy said. “Not getting anything from that.”

“We don’t have to. We’re calling the police.”

“What? Boss have you gone nuts?”

“No.” Daphne gestured. “The cops couldn’t come here. We did. But now we have a murder, and if we just do our patriotic duty, the cops have a lot more ways to handle it, and if this blows up… well, we did our patriotic duty.”

“Think we’re gonna get paid?”

“Not ending up in a deep hole is getting paid.”


When the call came in, it was flagged and sent to the Organized Crime Division. Jake was known to them, even if there had never been probable cause to arrest him.

Now there was. A rumored murder? Twenty minutes after the anonymous tip from a good Samaritan who heard a crying cat, the investigative team was there. Some probes fished up chunks of rotting flesh where they’d been stuck in the drain pipe, a mass of hair, likely from the victim’s scalp obstructing the flow.

“Right.” Detective Wallice Cameron (no relation), looked around and frowned. “Clean hit. Not someone who got pissed off that a new face was expensive.”

“Got the phone records. No recordings, but no calls to anyone we know who would be in the physical modification area.” Margaret said.

So either he didn’t need it, or they had someone to do that part… or that part had been done ahead of time.

“But we do have several calls, about six to a booth, one call…” She nodded. “One call to the Comstar branch, probably a balance inquiry for his payment. And one incoming call… Another booth—MacMillis Recreational Grounds. Get this, that last was on the weekday, six o’clock and lasted only five seconds.”

“And the time of death?”

“ME will have to be certain, but if you’re asking if it came near or on the date of our dear departed’s demise… yah.”

“An order,” Wallice said. “Someone wanted a go-nogo order.”

“Which lets out an angry spouse.” Margaret said. “Hit?”

“No. If he pissed off someone willing to take this heat, they wouldn’t be going for quiet.”

“Yeah. Our good Samaritans?”

“Not good, but smart. My bet is they showed up for something unrelated, and then decided they didn’t want in on whatever game was being played.” He turned. “Get Judge Wallace out of bed. I want a warrant for every camera and record pertaining to the Mac Millis Recreational Grounds for the last two months.”

“What about the other calls?”

“Put some people on them, but even if we get faces, which we probably will, they’re just using those phones for messages—probably not sticking around, but…” Wallice grinned, an unpleasant expression. “Someplace like a park in the middle of nowhere, in the off season? Someone calls for five seconds, once, not bothering to chew the fat about the big fish they caught? Someone really wants to be left alone. If we move fast enough we might be able to ruin their day.”

They kept examining the room, dusting it for fingerprints and DNA, when Margaret got a call.

“Really? That was fast? Oh, state of emergency, right. We should do that more often, makes things easier.” She glanced over at Wallice. “Want your Christmas presents early this week?”

“What?”

“We ran all the phone calls from the park out of the central exchange. Four phone calls that weren’t locals. The one here, two to the same booth we picked up, and one?”

“Yes?”

“Concordat Shipping. A call to them asking for seats on an offworld flight. One problem, the flight was delayed, and right now…”

“All civilian flights are grounded.” And they say God doesn’t provide. “Get me a forced entry SWAT unit, and tell the local cops to observe, but not interfere with any traffic into or out of that park.”

“Think they’re dangerous?”

“They’ve killed once, and gone to a lot of effort to keep this hidden. Yeah.” But that’s the problem with complex plans. All it takes is someone tugging on the wrong thread…

[Daryk]

It's not looking good for the Cappies about now... >:D

[David CGB]

It's not looking good for the Cappies about now... >:D

Understatement of the decade

[Korzon77]

The bust was, all things considered, anticlimactic. Several police choppers were re-routed over the park, and among the silent and cold cabins, one blazed with heat.

Comparatively. The people inside didn’t have the heaters or lights on, but six bodies were more than enough to trigger the sensitive thermal cameras.

They were also more than enough to put the police on alert.

It was cold enough that they were undergoing some discomfort keeping the lights and heat off. And they were supposedly safe.

That spoke to paranoia.

Possibly well-armed paranoia. 

Wallice sent the request up the chain, and an hour later, the Forced Entry Unit arrived from Samantha.

Twelve officers, trained in entering buildings with armed inhabitants.

“Any guess on their weapons?” The lead officer asked.

“No, but we’ve been watching them from the ridge with some thermals—two are moving, four are quiet.”

“Two sentries.” The officer frowned. “Doesn’t sound like crooks.”

“Maybe not.” Wallice paused. “I want them alive, if possible.”

“Do our best.”

They didn’t have a lot of time to plan things. Normally the best bet would be to let them leave the building, but from the way they were behaving, it might be better to get them while four of them were sleeping.

“Right. No windows in the rear, the entry team will go there. We’ve got windows, and they’re all in the front room. Screamers, flashers, and chokers.”

“Yes, sir.”

Normally, such tools were restricted, but with one confirmed murder…


One moment, the interior of the cabin was quiet. Two agents were waiting, ready to protect their sleeping brethren, light weapons at the ready.

Soon, they would head to another safe house, this one close to the downport so they could make their way back to home—

And then the windows shattered as nearly a half dozen low velocity projectiles sailed into the room. From outside the cabin, the team activated their screamers, sound projectors designed to hit the target with disorientating sound, just below the level of permanent damage. Inside, the flashers detonated, blinding light filling the room, catching the sleeping individuals just as they opened their eyes in response. The last few rounds filled the room with a choking nauseating mist. And from the back, a door flew into pieces as the armored forms of the forced entry team entered.

“DOWN, DOWN, DOWN!” 

One of the guards raised his gun, only to die from a volley of fire. The other guard was knocked to his knees. Of the sleeping individuals, two had woken just in time to be knocked out again, while two were gagging and choking.

The last guard was born down, and the three conscious agents looked at each other…

And then bit down on the false tooth they had for that purpose.

“What the ******?” an officer said. “They’re seizing!”

“All three?” The leader stared, they’d clenched their jaws and… Ignoring the convulsing struggle, he pried one man’s jaw open to see the shattered molar, some kind of fluid dripping from it. “Mother ******! Poison. The two who we got, wedge their mouths open. Now!”

Even as they did that, the rest of the park was coming alive. Police units rolled through the dark trees, evidence teams moving in.

And before dawn, they found a grave behind the cabin. The mutilated corpse was exhumed, and a quick DNA check was run.

A DNA check that was flagged—because supposedly the body in the back had belonged to a maintenance tech that had died with the Protector.

Moments after that, the entire region was sealed off as TMI teams moved out from the capital.


“What have we got?” Edward asked.

“Two living  Maskirovka agents. They had several suicide measures, but we removed them, and we were able to use chemical interrogation to get some information from them, although it’s limited.”

“And the cabin?”

“At least one of the men had to have been a cosmetic doctor. They had a set up in the back, with the equipment buried. I doubt it would have permitted a long-term deception but…”

“But it only needed to be for a few months.”

“Correct sir.”

“And it’s the Capellans.” Edward said.

“Yes sir, the interrogation and forensic evidence was clear. The body was that of Petty Officer Wilson, and he’d been dead for at least four weeks—and he was on leave four weeks ago. He enjoyed fishing, and had no close family.”

“So they murdered one of ours to get to everyone else.” Edward said. “Yesterday, I received a transmission from the ‘Celestial Wisdom’, offering me aid, even dangling some of the Capellan worlds that used to be ours, if we would open up a second front. Oh, our friendly Comstar rep mentioned, in the interests of peace, that the units facing us were withdrawing, almost like they know there isn’t going to be any fight on that border. They started this right after the assassination. Curious how quickly those orders went out.”

“Is Comstar involved?”

“No. I get the feeling the Precentor  knows damn good and well what he’s doing and this is giving us all the confirmation we need. Max seems to think that waving a red blanket in front of us is all he needs to do. Well, he’s right, just not in the way he thinks.”

Two RCT’s on the far side of the Inner Sphere, the Second dealing with the Outworld’s Alliance. That left them with two RCT’s and one that was still working up. That didn’t count the line regiments, just over 16, the PA units, and project Thunderchild. All of which were deep, dark secrets.

Revealing this will change a lot, but…

But the Liao’s had attempted to destroy the Concordat. Had launched an act of war against them. Had tried to, once again, make the Periphery the plaything of the Inner Sphere.

And the best way to convince everyone else that was a bad idea was to lay the person responsible out with a Sunday Punch.

“Thank you. I want a meeting with the ministry of defense. We’re going to war.” Two RCT’s, designed to operate at long range, with little support. Thunderchild. The first combat ready augmented suits since the days of the Star Lague.

Oh Max, I have a feeling you’re going to regret this. Because he wasn’t going to send his forces to just raid some border planets.




While small compared to the forces amassed by Hanse Davion, the TDF invasion of the Confederation involved the first open use of the fruits of their data core, although the truth of that matter would remain secret for nearly two more decades. However, unlike Hanse’s invasion, the TDF was not interested in conquering Capellan worlds but in destroying their military capabilities though a combination of ground raids and space-based commerce raiding.

Years later, Hanse would be heard to say: “We weren’t allies, not formally,  but if not for the Max’s decision to infuriate the Taurians, I’d never have been able to declare the end of the war from Sian.”

[Korzon77]

The orders were sent in utter secrecy. Military units were isolated on their bases, and preparations were made—to most, obviously to strike at the Federated suns.

Two other letters were sent. The first was to Tharkad via Comstar, using a one-time code, while the second was sent via messenger to the Davions. The risk that it would not arrive in time was a calculated risk.

It was a risk that paid off as Katrina Steiner sent her own messages upon receiving the code. And then she had a celebratory drink.

[/hr]

“Kicking the shit out of some border regiments isn’t enough,” General Lynda Sterns said. “We have got to make a point. Now the Navy isn’t going to be allowed to use their biggest toys, since those sub-caps might make people nervous and we need something back here in cease someone decides to launch an attack. But they’ve got enough.”

They should.  Years of profit, of business deals, of building civilian dropships that had parts commonality with their military designs. Union Carriers and every fighter they could beg borrow or steal meant that they should be able to claim dominance over the primary target. The missile boats would also be a pretty damned unpleasant surprise to any fighters or groundside defenses.

“Our goal is not to take land,” she continued. “That is the primary orders for all of your units. Get in, raid, hurt them, but don’t get trapped into a head on battle. We want them to deploy, especially if that puts us in the position where the Navy can grab their jumpships.” She chuckled. “In fact, the goal is to get them to send reinforcements out, so the Navy can grab them. TMI believes that all their assault droppers and front-line fighter units are facing off with the Fedrats anyway. The goal of the diversionary elements is to score maximum panic, not take land. We’ll leave that to the Davions, since they’ll be happy to deal with the lunatic death commandos.”

She paused, and waited for the chuckles to die down.

“Now for the part that you need to understand, and this doesn’t go out of this room. If you talk in your sleep, tell your significant others to wear earplugs.”

The chuckles were louder.

“Victoria is one of their linchpins. We can’t take it, but we’re going to use our new augmented infantry to ruin their day—smash it completely. Make a point and teach them a lesson. That’s where our primary fleet elements are going, because we need to smother their air defense.”

There was more discussion, talk about how to keep it secret. After a long and fruitful discussion, the meeting was adjourned and General Sterns found herself in the office of the Protector.

“It’s ready?”

“If I didn’t know better, I’d say we were invading Victoria.”

“Good,” Edward said. “This is a tremendous risk. But the people need a strike that says they’ve paid our enemies back. And I’m not going to let Max hid behind his soldiers and let them pay for his misdeeds.”  He glanced at the computer on the desk. No input or output systems. The files had been loaded, and then the circuits that would let anyone read from it had been physically slagged. The only sensor it had was one that would detect if it left the office—whereupon it would slag itself.

And on its screen was an image of the Celestial Palace.

“Normally I’d say this was crazy,” Stearns said. “But we’ve got conventional capital ship missiles for bombardment, and the powered armor. Nobody uses unsupported infantry, especially against a fortress, but once we’re in, they can’t exactly blow up their capital, or their boss. And once our forces are inside, regular infantry against our PALs and fire support armor? It’s not going to be a good day for them, and we can use pathfinders to direct fire against the AA defenses around the palace.” She shrugged. “It helps that it’s a raid, and honestly, the Davions are doing a nice job of distracting them.”

“Your main goal is to if possible, kill or capture Max. I do have the dear image of him standing trial in Samantha superior court for the murder of 50,000 Taurians.”  Edward shook his head. “But if that’s not possible, at the very least, the Celestial Palace is to be leveled. Let the civilians leave of course, but I want to leave a lesson on their capital that they will never forget. Then leave and return to the Concordat.”

And we can. Several covert ships that had been rented were already waiting to move First Army to its destination, faster than if it had been forced to stick with the same jumpships. But on the way back, supplies would be cached around red dwarfs, letting the force come home, if slower than they’d moved out. More importantly, it would be almost impossible for them to be intercepted—a trick that the TDF had used during the Reunification War.  And those cargo pods they’d developed were just the thing to let it happen, since without knowing where they are, the chances of anyone stumbling over their orbits…

We used to be a naval power, it’s only fair that the longest ranged offensive in our history take advantage of our new navy.

“You realize, if you pull this off, you may have handed Hanse Davion the Capellan Confederation.”

“He’s going to get it, anyway,” Edward said. “The Capellans have been the weakest of the Inner Sphere states and I think that Hanse Davion isn’t about to pass up the chance to remove them from the equation, permanently. I’m counting on it, actually.”

Stearns blinked. “Pardon?”

“All those systems, General. Full of people who have  been brought up with hatred for the Suns and a belief in their own manifest destiny. Full of secret police and the people they oppressed. I expect that Hanse Davion, after the euphoria of victory passes, will feel that he has developed quite the tummy ache, one that will keep the Federated Commonwealth  preoccupied, to say nothing of their new border with the Free Worlds League.  I expect that will ensure that nobody in the Federated Suns end of the new state has any desire to invade us.”

“And us?”

“I’m not about to occupy worlds full of people who will hate us. Worlds that want to join us voluntarily… maybe. But if we pull this off, it puts us in a position to be the kind of leader that can get all the independent worlds around us, and the Arugians and Canopeans, to sit down  and hammer out a commercial and defensive union. While the Inner Sphere is celebrating or mourning their latest phase of war, we can finally create the kind of alliances that can trade with them—on an even keel, and ensure that nothing like the Samantha Atrocity ever happens again.

“Presuming we win.”

“Anything less than complete defeat will do the job,” Edward said. “This is, after all, the very first time a Periphery state is launching an offensive against an Inner Sphere Successor State capital. But I would love to hear that the operation was a complete success.”

“And I would love to tell you that—in person.”

[/hr]

The Taurian offensive came out of the blue for most people. Edward’s declaration of War and his public revelations regarding the Chancellor’s perfidy had barely hit the news when the first strikes were launched against a dozen targets, units changing their designations between attacks and using other deception tactics to make the offensive look larger than it was. Frantic cries for reinforcements were met with silence, as the last reserves had been committed to try to stem the juggernaut of the Federated Suns. Units facing the Federated Suns realized that their rear areas were no longer secure, as Taurian commerce raiders merrily rampaged through Confederation Space seizing merchant jumpships and sending them back to Taurus.

Several spies reported, credibly, that the TDF intended to take Victoria and use it as a jumping off point for further attacks and the Capellan high command managed to scrounge the last reserves in the region to secure the valuable world.

But when the largest Taurian naval formation since the Amaris Crisis appeared, it was not at Victoria, but at Sian.

It is hard to say whether or not its impact was decisive, but the broadcast, in the clear, of the Arrest Warrant for Chancellor Liao, issued by the Samantha City 1st Superior Court, at the request of the District Attorney for the city, did not, by all accounts, do much for the Chancellor’s mood…



The Rise and Fall of the Capellan Confederation.

3051, Capellan Union Press.

[idea weenie]

Yeah, Capella is not going to like that at all.

And they are reading the after-war results rather correctly, as the FedSuns will be busy digesting the Capellan Confederation.  That digestion will involve dealing with locals who don't know any different, fanatics who will do their best, and intercepting FWL blockade runners who give weapons to the CC fanatics just to keep the FedSuns troops busy.

Chances are, Davion will have to buy a lot of gear to keep the rest of his realm going, and the Taurians just happen to have a good industrial base and several Jumpships they would be willing to rent.  At a price of course.  And if those Jumpships and Dropships happen to be talking with locals on the FS-Taurian border about rejoining the Taurian Concordat via planetary elections, that is just idle conversation.

[Daryk]

It strikes me Andurien will absolutely take advantage of the chaos to take back their worlds too... ;)

[Korzon77]

The Egress System.



The first sign the defenders of the system had that something was wrong was the appearance of two Tramp class ships, military transports of the TDF. There was little warning, as they appeared at a pirate point, and as the six dropships were deployed, a swarm of fighters arose from the system even as the Egress defense units scrambled.

But the small fleet did not attempt to land, and the intercepting fighters were forced to engage at the very limit of their endurance, as two of the big ships, some form of modified Overlord class dropship, started launching capital ship missiles on a ballistic course, not for cities, but for outlying military bases, punching into shelters and repair facilities. The Liao attacks were desperate and by the end, no less than eight Taurian fighters had been destroyed—in return for the loss of nearly the entire Liao air defense network, save for atmospheric fighters. There would have been more, but they were off fighting the Davions.

Meanwhile, a third Tramp had jumped in by the recharging station, and it deployed small craft and two  modified assault unions, taking advantage of the unified hull and engine. One was heavily damaged, but in return, the Taurians claimed no less than six jumpships.

Government ships were taken as a prize of war, while the three civilian ships were “temporarily impressed,” their befuddled crews being handed receipts by the boarding officers.



It was only then that the commander broadcast her intentions to the system:



To the inhabitants of the Egress system. We have incontrovertible evidence that your Chancellor was directly responsible for the atrocity in Samantha. Because of that, a State of War exists between our two states. However, as we have no interest in making war on civilians, we shall restrict ourselves to military targets. Furthermore, as a measure to secure our operational security, we will either destroy, seize, or disable all dropships, both military and civilian. Civilian owners may submit a claim for damages.



After a warning, the bombardment of dropships began, save for several civilian ships that boosted into orbit and submitted to boarding. The few remaining military dropships were either destroyed on the ground, or met their Valhalla when they attempted to boost into orbit to defeat the invaders.

Three days later, the little fleet, accompanied by its new prizes, boosted for the outer system, joining the contingent that had hit the recharge station.

The station itself had not been damaged, save for some rather impolite art by the troops.

The TDF weren’t savages.

And they were using the lessons the SLDF had taught them, long ago in the Reunification War.

It didn’t matter how many islands a nation ruled—if it could not control the sea.

Lastly, there had been no attempt to prevent the HPG station from operating. That would violate Comstar’s neutrality.

And if the panicked reports spoke of the Third Squadron of the Second Fleet, well, it wasn’t the TCN’s fault if people drew the wrong conclusions. As they prepared for their next move, repairing damage and restocking, the crews got busy with new hull insignia and transponder settings—after all, the First Squadron of the Fourth Fleet deserved some glory too, didn’t it?


Mcc-012



The red dwarf had no planets, nor even an asteroid belt. But it had satellites now. Several cargo pods, formed into a prefabbed base, recharging gear set up. Extra fighters, battlemechs and supplies ensured that the invading forces could not have to return to their lines to supply.

And most importantly, to any outside observer, it would seem like the Taurians had far more ships that they could afford to rotate out entire flotillas for resupply in the Concordat.

[/i]

“We must stop the Taurians!” Maximilian Liao snarled. “Barbarians, thugs! How are they winning!”

“They’re not fighting us, Celestial Wisdom. They have landed on only a few worlds. Other than that they keep to space like cowards.” The admiral was sweating, because the obvious question would bring up the fact that enemies in space were his responsibility. “But our assault ships, the majority of our fighter strength is fighting the Davions. And the  Maskirovka seems to have missed the fact that the Taurians have fleets.”

“Misinformation,” Chandra Ling  muttered.

“Really? Then how are they hitting so many systems? We have no evidence that they’re returning to the Concordat, nor are they using our systems. The time stamps, the transponder codes? It is naval intelligence estimates that they have as many as one hundred combat dropships in action.”  The admiral called up a grainy image of a cylindrical dropship. “Including new classes! At least 18,000 tons, carrying capital ship missiles and enough lighter weapons to make anything other than an overwhelming fighter strike suicidal! And they don’t land! They just bombard military bases, or dual-use facilities, and go away. If we try to hit them, they have the range advantage.”

“And civilian casualties?”  Justin Allard asked, ignoring the glare from his superior, Chandra Ling.

“Light. Fortunately.” The admiral shook his head. “They’ve avoided bombarding military bases colocated with major cities, and there hasn’t been any combat on the ground. This money had to come from somewhere, so I expect they’ve hollowed out their ground forces to afford these ships.”

“Which does not help us.”

“No, Celestial Wisdom, it does not.”

Maximilian frowned. “What about our special weapons? Even a single fighter could defeat their forces.”

“At the risk of seeing them use their own weapons, Celestial Wisdom.” Allard shook his head. “As you have said, they are barbarians. Should we risk them unleashing such fire on our worlds?”

“No…” Maximilian shook his head. “You are correct. We cannot fight their fleet, not yet, not due to the failings of our own fleet. We cannot risk more jumpships. Start withdrawing them from the at risk regions.”

“Celestial Wisdom, that will cripple—“ the admiral fell silent at Maximilian’s shout.

“Worse than losing the jumpships will? Idiot! Go carry out my orders.” Maximilian leaned back. “We must knock the Federated Suns out before we can deal with the upstarts from the Periphery. Kathil. Once Kathil is destroyed, we will have the initiative.”

“Of course, Celestial Wisdom,” Justin said.


Thank you Max, Hanse Davion thought as he stared at the briefing.

“We really don’t know what the Taurians are doing, or how they got that much firepower. Clearly, they’ve been investing.” Quintus shrugged. “Our Lyran counterparts have a bit more information on their economic work, and well, we can’t explain this by just investment. Those ships represent a radical increase in their technological capabilities.”

“Another Halstead Station cache?”

“Possibly, or maybe a data cache from the Reunification War—we know they feared that the Star League might completely genocide them. It wouldn’t take much to assume they found a lost cache.”

“Regardless, what does this mean for the war?”

“The damage they’ve done to the Liao spacelift capability has neutralized more than a few of their local units. They were sticking close to their worlds, but now there’s no possibility that they can be moved. We can focus more on offense.”

“Good.” Hanse nodded. “And information on where the Taurians are going to strike next?”

“No idea, Sire. The fact is, I’m not certain if they have as many ships as they claim.”

“Oh?”

“They’re hitting very fast, but what confirmed information we have never has all those fleets hitting different worlds at the same time. Granted it could be that they’re cycling forces, or it could be a deception operation. But it is sowing all kinds of chaos behind their lines. I have reports from at least three worlds that had a panic because the Taurian armada was paying them a visit, when no such armada was anywhere around. There’s some evidence that the Taurian’s may be paying people to panic…”

“Smart of Edward.” Hanse shook his head. “This has his fingerprints  on it.”

“The focus on commerce raiding, and avoiding major ground operations.”

“Neutralize your enemy without destroying them—or leaving them with a generational grudge.” Hanse nodded. “The Laios launched an atrocity that would have some nations salting the earth their cities were on, and the Taurians are punishing the government, but leaving the people alone. Edward, from what I’ve seen, has always been a bit of an idealist.” He glanced at Quintus. “After this, Michael is no longer going to be an issue. Draw me up a list of people who will be replacing his own people. I want no firebrands on that border. We may not ever be friends, but we don’t have to be enemies.” He chuckled. “Besides, from what the Lyrans have said, Taurian businessmen are nearly as cutthroat as they are.”

“Sire?”

“If we can ease up tensions, then well, who am I to say no to businessmen willing to invest in our Outback?”  Hanse shook his head. “Thought for another day. Right now, let’s focus on winning the war.”

[Korzon77]

The streets of the Forbidden city were quiet.

Inside, however, all was chaos.

“Celestial Wisdom, the Taurians have deployed a fleet at the jump point.” The officer pointed to the blazing red icon. “They failed to take the recharge station before it could send us a warning, but now their entire force is burning in, nearly sixty dropships.” He paused. “Our defending forces did some damage to their first echelon, but the war forced us to strip some of our long-range defenses. We did not anticipate this.”

“They are thinking to invade… Sian?  Our Capital!” Maximilian’s hands clenched on the throne, while next to him, Candace remained silent.

Romano was not. “They will die! We will send their bodies back to their masters, and burn Samantha City to the ground!”

“Yes. Do we have enough forces to destroy them?”

“I… Sir,” the officers looked at each other. “It would be best if we were to let them make orbit, so we could support our longer ranged—“

“No! Do you even comprehend the damage even an unsuccessful invasion could do? This is our capital, and it will not be sullied by barbarian hands! They will be broken before they reach orbit, and their tattered remains will be paraded for the people!”


Orders were given, and every available ship was scrambled. The enemy fleet did not turn away, although it started spreading out, to the confusion of the officers. The Taurians should be massing to protect their troop ships.

Still, they would not question their good fortune.

Most notably, the two forces were nearly two days away from contact, and would meet far from Sian. No barbarians would land on the motherworld of the Confederation.


“Keep those engines running, Sandra,” Mike said.

“Doing my best,” the engineer told him. “But being that we’re the only people on this crate…”

“Yeah,” he said. The Mule had been captured, along with its jumpship. The entire reason for grabbing the jumpships and civilian dropships, in addition to the obvious benefits, was to have this “fleet”.

And you had to get close to a dropship before you could start seeing what it really was. This far away, and Mules and Drosts looked an awful lot like Leopards and Unions, especially if you knew how to play games with the drive plumes.

“So, being that we don’t even have gun crews, when are we boogying?”

“When we get the flash,” Mike said.


One moment, the pirate point was empty. Far from any battles. Unimportant, with even the small craft pulled away.

And then it was full of jumpships.  Most arrived safely, but one Tramp appeared,  the jumpship and dropships looking like  a twisted metal sculpture, leaving no survivors.

But the death toll was still less than they’d have faced fighting their way in, and even as the planet below them reacted with shock, every single dropship deployed, even as the Union CVs started spilling out their fighters.

And not long later, the “fleet” heading for Sian, started boosting to the side, moving away from the defensive forces that were still accelerating for them—and away from where they needed to be.


Justin Allard walked into the command post, chaos surrounding him.

“Recover the ships!”

“It will be nearly three days before they can return, Celestial Wisdom!”   The admiral was pale. “They were boosting to intercept the decoy fleet! First they must—“

“Recover the SHIPS!” Maximilian howled, spittle flying from his mouth. “We will destroy—“

“Father,” Candace said. “You cannot command the laws of physics. We must prepare for their attack.”

“Prepare! We will crush them,” Romano snarled. “The warrior houses stand ready!”

“Yes…” Max paused. “Yes, that can be done. We will make the city their tomb!  Order all militias—“

“Father,” Candace said. “The militias will simply get in our way. It would be better if they were to handle crowd control, especially since we do not know where they are going to attack.”

“The palace?” Justin asked.

Max laughed, contemptuously. ”The palace is sealed and on lockdown—even an entire army couldn’t get in before our forces return.”

The forces you were using as a reserve, what little of one you have, to stop the Suns. Win or lose, unless the Taurians were utterly, improbably crushed, they’d just suckerpunched the Confederation. Max had already sent out orders for units to be pulled back, and they’d arrive here too late to do anything—but just in time to leave avenues for the Federated Suns to push through.

Did you plan this?  Justin shook his head. Hanse was many things, but for this, he bet he’d be just as surprised as everyone else.


TCC Protector’s Vengeance



At 18,000 tons, the Protector’s Vengeance was the second largest hull the Concordat had fielded since the Amaris crisis. The larger ships were back home, held as a surprise in case of disaster.

Fine with me, Captain Hanks thought. “Tac, do we have our targets?”

“Confirmed sir. Standing by for your order.”

“Commence missile launch.” Protective shields retracted, revealing the AR-10 launchers, while gunners selected the proper missiles. Moments later, the Protector’s Vengeance and it’s three fellows were salvoing missiles at the rings of military bases surrounding the Celestial Palace.

“Looks like we’ve caught their attention sir.”

Hanks nodded. Rising fighters, their formations choppy, probably mostly reservists who hadn’t expected this, were frantically charging the heavy warships—and that meant they’d have to run a gauntlet of the escorts.

I wonder if they’re panicking, or if the people giving them orders are panicking?

[/i]

“Move it!” Section Leader  Judith Chen shouted. The Union CV was crowded, not just with fighters, but with troops. The Victory bomber had a very roomy, very nice internal bomb bay.

Which, when people were talking about power armor units, led to someone pointing out that said bomb bay could be a people bay. And that from the outside, you couldn’t tell the difference.

The palace complex had lots of big guns. Good for stopping mechs. It had lots of little guns. Good for stopping regular infantry who couldn’t carry a hundred or so kilos worth of armor.

Pity they had just that.

“Right!” she said as the troops moved into the crew space, checking their one-shot landing boosters, hooking themselves up to the lugs that would keep everyone from getting mulched by the bomber’s maneuvers. “We’re jumping at 10,000, remember your briefing. Our primary goal is to take out the palace defenses, and to enter the palace itself. Secondary goal, if we can, is to capture the Chancellor—alive. The District Attorney for Samantha has a nice room for him that shouldn’t go to waste.” The growl from her men was feral. “Remember, they’re gonna be fighting on their home ground, and nobody’s ever said the Cappies can’t fight. We’re tough, but not Superman, and that means you Willis.”

The trooper in question, grinned, and patted the old comic symbol on his shoulder. “You’re just jealous.”

“Sure. I don’t have comic book anatomy, what woman wouldn’t be jealous?” Judith waited for the laughter to die down. “Right! Final checks and if you didn’t piss before, it’s too late now!”

And then the speakers squawked. “Attention Capellan government!”

Judith grinned. I wonder how the people on the ground are responding to finding out why we’re here.


Everyone was silent in the command post. Nobody dared speak. Not with the echoes of the… inconceivable insult still echoing in the air.

“To Chancellor Maximilian Liao, this force is here to arrest you in obedience to the civil detainment order and indictment handed down by The Samantha City Superior Court, First Department, at the request of the District Attorney. You stand accused of 50,021 counts of murder in the first degree, five hundred counts of arson, multiple counts of soliciting murder via the promise of payment, conspiracy to use a WMD, conspiracy to  violate the rights of Taurian citizens and… the improper disposal of hazardous waste within the city limits.

“If you surrender yourself to my forces, your safety will be guaranteed, and counsel will be provided you when we return to Samantha. Please note that I have civil law enforcement officers here who will take custody of you. You are not being detained as a POW, but as a criminal suspect.”

“Was that tight beamed to the palace?” Maximilian asked, his voice oddly calm.

“No, Celestial Wisdom… It was a planet-wide broadcast. Now we know that they are coming for you—we should move you to a secure—“

“I WILL NOT MOVE FROM MY PALACE. WE WILL KILL THEM, KILL EVERY LAST ONE OF THEM! THEY HAVE MOCKED MY PERSON TO THE ENTIRE PLANET, AND I WILL HAVE VENGEANCE!”

And then, dimly heard through the mass of the palace, there was the sound of impacting warheads.

The Taurians had arrived.

[Daryk]

Now THAT's a Christmas special! ;D

[idea weenie]

Are those the sounds of warheads impacting, or Taurian battle armor impacting?

[Korzon77]

Battles of the Third Succession War had been defined by raids and counter raids, and a focus on preserving forces. They had also been defined by a lack of orbital bombardment. This meant that few nations worried over much about direct drops on defended locations—to do so, they would have to come into range of the shorter ranged weapons used in the modern era, being torn to shreds both by the AA and the fact that they’d be attacked by defending forces before they got organized. Every book, every manual, said the thing to do was to drop mechs close, but not on a target.

Infantry and vehicles came later, of course.

But this time things played out differently. The missiles fired by the Taurian dropships did not destroy every emplacement—and more than a few were left untouched, being too close to civilian neighborhoods. To be fair, the Liaos were not using their citizens as shields—it was just that property values in the city had led to increasing encroachment to formerly clear zones.

But the short range of modern weapons meant that as more and more emplacements were punched out, the bubble of protection over the capital was increasingly threadbare. Even as fighters soared into the sky, mostly atmospheric jobs, attempting to do the job of the mostly destroyed aerospace forces—or the fleet that was even now frantically reversing its vector, the TDF forces were moving in.

Above, the first wave of fighters was heading down. The bombers were nestled into the formation, but they carried troops, not bombs. The first wave of the power armored forces, using a fast entry doctrine wargamed out both by regular infantry officers and the SASF.

Not all of the fighters or troops made it. The Liao pilots, flying their fragile conventional craft, fought with single minded fanaticism to defend their home and Chancellor. Two managed to kill Victory fighters by ramming them, but the majority of the strike made it through.

The cannons on the palace had opened up, giving thanks that the enemy hadn’t used those weapons on the palace. And then the Bombers opened their bays, before heading for orbit at maximum velocity.

The officers behind the cannon sighed. Dropping bombs at that range ensured they’d fall almost at random. Why the bomber pilots had panicked, they didn’t know, but they wouldn’t refuse such a gift…


Judith checked her spin. She couldn’t see anyone else, and nobody was transmitting. Bombs didn’t transmit, and so they wouldn’t. Below her, marked out in her thermal vision, was the palace. They’d be heading for the parts behind the big guns. There were small emplacements, designed to stop jump troops…

“But not us…”

The entire unit, nearly 120 suits, was dropping. No parachutes were deployed.

Parachutes were not how the SASF did things. Judith counted down. There was a fine difference between stopping before you went splat, and boosting too soon and marking yourself out. She made certain her mouthguard was clenched between her teeth. More than a few recruits had bitten their tongues in half during drills.

The range counter ticked down and…

Now!

She touched the stud and the solid fueled booster engaged, for few endless moments, punishing Judith with nearly eight G’s of braking force. Around her, there were other blazing torches.

C’mon, turn off, you’re done enough, I’m a ****** target floating up here with a flare—the booster died and moments later explosive bolts jettisoned it, and now Judith was close enough, moving slowly enough, that her suit jets brought her down to the roof. A shocked Capellan soldier stared at her—

Judith cut him in half with a burst from her machine gun.

“Sappers!” the order came. “Take out those AA platforms! First platoon, into the palace! Go, go, go!”

“Sound off!” Judith called out. “Everyone make it down?”

“Willis isn’t here.”

“Dammit, well he’ll have to meet up with us.” Judith gestured. “Let’s go.” Don’t be dead, you clown.


“Dammit, dammit, dammit!” Willis tumbled through the air. A near miss had blown his booster off and he’d had to jettison early and try to brake with his internal jumpjets. He’d managed to kill most of the velocity, but it left him the hell out of position and he was coming down hard. At least there was a nice, flat roof for—

Four hundred plus kilograms of armored suit and wearer hit the flat roof… and went right through it in an explosion of plaster and shattering wood, Willis’ howled curses echoing in his helmet. He looked around once he hit. Please don’t let this be a—

He blinked. He was in a… buffet? There were crimson hangings on the wall, what looked like a really nice selection of food, especially for someone who had been in space eating rations for the last month, and…

Oh. A birthday cake. Evidently they had decided they were far enough from the palace to stay here. Or the Liaos might have just told their people that if they couldn’t get to a shelter, to stay where they were, which honestly wasn’t terrible advice. There were fourteen candles on the birthday cake, and a girl standing by it, staring at Willis. Willis got to his feet, towering over them.

“Ah, I’ll be—“

With a banshee shriek, the birthday girl threw her slice at Willis, following it up with the whole ****** cake! That seemed to be the cue for everyone else to grab whatever food products were handy and start throwing them, and nobody had ever ****** put this in a drill! So Willis improvised, and, covered in everything from cake to noodle soup, ran like a little girl, heading out into the street through the window, screams and curses following him.

Maybe they don’t have cameras.

They did, and the images of a suit of powered armor fleeing in evident terror from a child’s birthday celebration were printed in many books, even those not really focusing on the battle—they were just that amusing.

More seriously, they appeared in many professional manuals in MOUT operations, under the heading of how not everything could—or should—be resolved with lethal force.

Pausing, Willis checked his position and then triggered his jets jumping up and over a building, just as a pair of Militia cops jumped out of their car and opened fire on him, the bullets missing his fast moving form.


On the roof of the palace, most of the emplacements had been taken out. More and more infantry were showing up, but as yet, no heavy weapons. That’d come later.

But the Taurian’s were preparing for it. Enough AA batteries had been hit that a safe zone had been opened for landers, and the first small craft were coming down, bringing not just the rest of the powered armor units, but no less than a battalion of infantry. Liao battlemechs, less those destroyed by bombing or missile strikes were moving in, but Judith didn’t care about them. They’d be inside the palace, and unless they wanted to bring the whole place down on their Celestial Clown, there was only so much a mech could do.

“Ready!” A sapper called, as he and the others pulled away from the large dome shaped structure they’d assembled out of the contents of the supply pods they’d brought.

The armor of the palace was strong. But it wasn’t intended to deal with someone being able to actually erect a shaped-charge system, using nearly 300 kilograms of explosives.

The detonation was loud even through her armor, as the superheated spear blasted down through the tough material of the exterior walls, punching through them and into the actual complex, incinerating several luckless servitors.

“Clear!” one of the sappers shouted. “Go! Go!”

And the first platoon, Judith in the lead, headed down into the palace, even as the teams left on top readied themselves for the reinforcements from the approaching small craft.

Less than five minutes had passed from their entry into the atmosphere to the penetration of the palace complex.


“Celestial Wisdom! The Palace has been breached!”

“They are simply attempting to frighten us.”

Candace Liao stared at her father. Some might think he was being calm, but the way his eyes didn’t even seem to see the internal monitors, even as officers shouted in panic at the…

Exoskeletons? No, No exoskeleton has ever moved like that. This is something new.

“Do not worry, Father,” Romano said. “This palace will be their grave. Already our forces are moving in.”

“Yes. They are,” Justin said. He gestured at one of the monitors, as a platoon of troopers went to a pre-planned chokepoint. It would be enough to stop a company of regular troops, give them more than enough time to bring reinforcements.

It lasted less than thirty seconds. One of the hulking figures went down, but another one threw a satchel. Then the monitor fuzzed and moments later, there was a soft shudder.

Satchel charges. And they can survive the blast at ranges unarmored troops cannot. The solution was simple. Get out of the palace where they could make use of their battlemechs.

“We must go,” Candace said. “Father, this treacherous attack, can only succeed if we remain.” Less than yours. If the Taurians had wanted to respond in kind, they could have burned the city around us.

“No! I will not run from these… Mockeries! Once we have defeated Hanse Davion, I will repay them for their treachery!” His eyes were wide, twitching a little.

Romano walked to his side. “I understand, Father,” She glanced at Candace. “I will be loyal to you. Let us send the order, deploy the special weapons against the fleet in orbit, and then, the nest of the scorpions on Taurus!”

“If we did that, Hanse Davion would salt the ground this city is on, and Takashi Kurita would not be far behind!” Candace shouted, her calm deserting her. Justin’s touch on her shoulder brought her back to herself. Taking a deep breath. “But these things can be discussed later, once we have moved to a safer location.”

“I—“ Romano fell silent as an aid entered the room.

“Celestial Wisdom. We have a message from Janos Marik, regarding your requests for assistance.”

Maximilian rose up out of his stupor, and then smirked at Candace. “You see, daughter, we do not need to flee. We will destroy them here, and with this assistance, drive off Davion and punish the Taurians for their perfidy.”

“What is the message?” Justin asked.

“Ah…” the messenger was actually shaking. “Due to our inability to stand off a periphery power, and our failures against the Federated Suns, Janos has stated that for the safety of the Capellan people, he has ordered his forces to ah, um…”

“WHAT!” Romano shouted.

“Occupy those worlds that are on his border in order to provide them with security and ensure that the Federated Suns will not take them.”

The room was silent before it exploded, even as the screens showed more Taurian troops advancing down some stairwells.

“Celestial Wisdom, what are your orders? Shall we pause the transfer of units to the Federated Suns border?”

“Idiot!” Candace snapped. “Do that, and Hanse Davion shall be eating his victory lunch here!”

“We don’t have enough forces to slow invaders on three fronts!” a general snarled.

“Then we must reduce that number,” Candace said. “Father, it is clear that both Takashi and Janos never intended us to be an equal partner. You can negotiate with Hanse Davion. If we can obtain peace on that front, we can deal--” The room shuddered, from another detonation, this one closer. The security troops inside the command post started heading outside, the heavy doors being sealed behind them. We must make preparations for attacks like this in the future. She had to admire the Taurians. They had held this new weapon in reserve until they could use it in quantity. If they had had a hint of this new weapon, Candace could think of a dozen things they could do. But the Taurians were not going to give them the time to do that.

“He…he’s not doing what he’s supposed to do.”

“Father?”

“He’s not doing what he’s supposed to do. The plan worked. I know the plan worked.” Maximilian said, and refused to do more than repeat the words.

“My lady!” an officer said. “We must evacuate.”

“Yes.”

“No!” Romano had pulled a small pistol. “You have betrayed Father. Arrest her! I will conduct the defense from this location!” The room was silent. “I said arrest her!”

“What will you do?” Justin asked, conversationally. “What orders are you giving?”

“The rest of the military will advance on the palace. We will remain here. With the doors sealed, even if they destroy the palace, we will be safe!”

“Really.” Justin said. “But Candace is the eldest daughter.” Nobody was paying any attention to the Chancellor, lost in the destruction of his dreams.

“She is not the true heir. You heard her. She is already speaking of crawling to the Dav—“ For a moment, she turned away from her sister, who produced a small pistol from under one of her long sleeves and then shot Romano in the head. Romano’s expression remained for moment, before her face went slack and she fell to the ground.

Everyone froze, but then Candace handed the pistol to Justin before speaking to the messenger. “From your report, I take it land lines to Comstar are still intact?”

“Yes.” The messenger couldn’t pull his eyes from Romano. Then he glanced at the Chancellor, staring into nothingness, then back to Candace. “They are, Celestial Wisdom.”

Candace nodded. “Send a message to Hanse Davion, I will request a cease fire preparatory to discussing terms of peace.”

“Surrender?”

“We were losing the war even before Janos stabbed us in the back. But right now, we have enough soldiers to make it difficult for him. Hanse is married to a Lyran and Lyran’s understand business. A smaller bite might be worth it to him if it comes with saving troops. And…” she sighed. “Order troops in the palace to seek a truce.”

“But they wish to seize the Chancellor.”

“I will discuss it with them. If we lose the palace, with all the command staff, all the strategic decision makers, the Davions won’t need to talk to us—they’ll just wait for the disorder to finish us.”


Judith hit the wall, her armor dented and sparking from the last hallway. ****** this place is huge. “Check ammo!” she called to her squad.

“Two-five on the machine gun,” one reported, the others following. They’d have to pause and rearm, but that would give the opposition time to get organized. And there was nothing, absolutely nothing wrong with their fighting spirit. They’d lost Simpkins to a soldier who had hid in a bathroom and then came charging out with a satchel charge, reckoning that one Liao for one Taurian was a good trade. Giving them time to come up with anything clever was a bad idea.

“I’m seeing white flags!” the first echelon said.

“Be careful with them.” Judith waited, but then more reports came in. Gunfire was slowing up and then stopping and the higher level nets told of mechs stopping in place.

What the hell? And then, several Liao troops, sans guns, appeared, waving white flags. Judith motioned for her own people to lower their own guns, and then one officer, his less scruffy uniform indicating he hadn’t been in the right appeared.

“I present to you, her Celestial Wisdom, Candace Liao,” he said as a women, dressed in the kind of clothes Judith couldn’t afford with a year’s pay, walked down the smoking hallway, ignoring the mess around her.

“Who is in charge?”

“I am,” Judith said. “You’re not Maximilian.”

“No. He is indisposed. Likely permanently.”

“Well that’s fine, but I have orders to remove him.”

“Do you have medics? I will not hide him, but first we should probably discuss peace terms to stop the fighting. I have ordered my dropships and ground units to fire only in self-defense. Some of your troops can attend the Chancellor to ensure that we are not intending on spiriting him away.”

“Right,” Judith said. This is a stone-cold bitch. I could kill her, hell, there’s an arm of one of her troops next to her, and she’s talking like we’re discussing the weather. “I can get you in touch with my CO and the Admiral. This is a little above my pay grade.”

“Excellent. I suggest that while I finish withdrawing our forces from the palace, you accompany me to the Comstar compound. It is close by and as a neutral site we can both be certain of safety. I will even show you some of the buildings on the way. They were built in the classical mode.”

“Really,” Judith said, staring at the guy next to the woman, who just shrugged. Five minutes ago we were shooting and now we’re talking about buildings. Did I hit my head?

It was then that Wilis came charging in, his suit covered in dust and… White frosting?”

“Willis? What the hell happened to you?”

“Crashed a birthday party, Ma’am.”

“Well, congratulations, you missed the fight so it’s escort duty.” Judith paused, listening to her comlink. “CO says, all shooting has stopped, so fire only in self defense, but don’t let your guard down. If that’s okay?” she sarcastically told the Liao woman.

“Certainly. I would not want to be escorted by incompetents.”

“Right…” Judith said, as she turned and escorted the woman who acted like she wasn’t in the company of a bunch of pissed-off Taurians.

The only other weird thing was the fact that when they came up to the Comstar gate, the Precentor stared at the armor like he’d seen a ghost…




The Palace raid went down in history as one of the most decisive raids ever. By crippling the Capellan C&C, eliminating Maximilian (and via Candace, Romano Liao), it ended the Capellan Confederation, at least in the form it had existed in for centuries. The casual way Janos betrayed his “ally” showed that the pact that was supposed to counterbalance the Federated Suns/Lyran Commonwealth alliance, was built on sand. While the military measures to counter powered armor have been mentioned elsewhere, one of the greatest impacts, though not one noticed at the time, was Takashi’s decision to give Theodore’s reforms far more scope—the Kuritan nation would have to squeeze every bit of productivity out of both military and civil sectors if it was to survive, let alone profit. These reforms threatened the classical Kuritan identity and would light the fuse that would culminate in the single worst civilian blood-letting since the Second Succession War…



The Unbroken Chain: How Events Are Tied Together Throughout History.



Tharkad Educational Press.



Perhaps one of the most amusing bits about the Great Raid was how the Taurian Defense Force handed their personal Bugaboo, Hanse Davion, one of the greatest victories in the history of the Inner Sphere, the elimination of a Successor State as an effective power…



From: Chance and Mischance, a hundred cases where fate tossed a banana peel in front of the mighty.



New Avalon Press, 3101

[Korzon77]

Hanse wasn’t certain if he should be thrilled or horrified. The day had started out normally, organizing the continuing offensives against the Combine and Confederation. The Free Worlds League had evidently been uninterested in joining in, and intelligence indicated that both Max and Takashi were unhappy.

And then the first reports started coming in from Sian. Comstar stations weren’t subject to a house lord’s will, and so, getting information out was as easy as placing a priority message. Or for that matter, just listening to the various news services that got unclassified reports out.

But this…

“Tell me what it is, Quintus,” Hanse ordered. Melissa was standing by him, frowning at the scrolling information.

“Reports of an attack on Sian—by the Taurians. We’re only able to get what the public transmissions are giving us, and not many people are getting close to the fight, but…” He touched a button, and an image came up, jerky, some kind of hand-held camera, showing the skyline of the Liao capital. And in the sky overhead, there were tracers, trails of fire as missiles were launched, other missiles striking down, the booms of impacts echoing through the park where the witness was.

“We’ve got more, but no, absolutely no word from the Palace, and nothing from orbit, but if the Taurian’s are trying to take Sian, they have to have a vastly larger fleet than we believed possible.”

“Ten regiments,” Hanse murmured. “Ten regiments of mechs, never mind infantry—where did they get all of that spacelift…” They’re not stupid, their entire operation so far has shown that they understand that a full invasion is beyond their capabilities. Even if they took Sian, they could never support it, so why are they—

Another aide came into the room. “Sir, another message from Sian. The Taurians broadcast a message, across the planet.”

“What is it?” Hanse asked. The aide’s expression was of a man wondering if he was dreaming.

“We have a recording.”

“To Chancellor Maximilian Liao, this force is here to arrest you in obedience to the civil detainment order and indictment handed down by The Samantha City Superior Court, First Department, at the request of the District Attorney. You stand accused of 50,021 counts of murder in the first degree, five hundred counts of arson, multiple counts of soliciting murder via the promise of payment, conspiracy to use a WMD, conspiracy to violate the rights of Taurian citizens and… the improper disposal of hazardous waste within the city limits.

If you surrender yourself to my forces, your safety will be guaranteed, and counsel will be provided you when we return to Samantha. Please note that I have civil law enforcement officers here who will take custody of you. You are not being detained as a POW, but as a criminal suspect.”

“My God,” someone murmured. “Are they insane? He’s the ruler of the Capellan Confederation!”

“If a bandit king had attacked Samantha, none of us would raise an eyebrow at this,” Melissa quietly said. “My mother has spent much of her life trying to deal with nobles who feel that they are above the law.” She smiled, and the expression was oddly cold on her face. “If the Taurians are right, the Chancellor of the Capellan Confederation committed premeditated mass murder against a state he was not at war with.” She shrugged. “I know it’s a minor bit of Trivia, but the Confederation made peace, officially, with the Concordat after the Reunification War, and nobody bothered to redeclare war on them after the collapse of the Star League.”

“Even so, how can they seize him?” Quintus said. “The palace has abundant security and the forces around the city can move quickly.”

“I suppose we’ll have to see,” Hanse said. As the day passed, other messages came in. Comstar protesting the high-handed blockade, while happily evading it, by various methods. There were other images from the conflict, what looked like heavy missiles from orbit…

“Capital missiles?” Someone asked. “The Bulls have capital missiles?”

Good bombardment weapon. The number of orbital bombardments since the Second Succession war could be counted on one hand. You just didn’t have the money to make the complex systems needed to effectively guide a missile. Tharkad, New Avalon, and probably Luthien had surface to space batteries, but Sian evidently didn’t.

But then he shot upright at another video. This one was jerky, shot from inside a vehicle of some kind. Something fell from the sky, landing and then rising up, bullets sparking off of its armor. Taller than a human, it looked like…

“That can’t be an exoskeleton,” Hanse muttered. It’s moving almost like a gymnast. It actually spun around and ducked under the fire, before rising up and opening fire at someone off screen with what looked like a machine gun, snapping off short bursts, before it took a giant leap, vanishing from view as thrusters boosted it into the sky. Son of a bitch. That’s how they did it.

“The rounds hitting it looked like they came from assault rifles,” Melissa said, her eyes narrowed, no doubt thinking about her infantry training. “And they were bouncing off of its armor. And it’s carrying a machine gun.” His wife frowned. “Something like that would be nearly unstoppable at close quarters. So if they targeted the palace and got inside…”

“It wouldn’t matter what the Liaos had on the outside.” Hanse nodded. And even outside, they wouldn’t have a lot of fun. Infantry anti-mech attacks could be dangerous enough when men were carrying the bombs suited to a human. But something like that suit, if it could move faster and carry heavier loads… Hanse didn’t fancy having someone slap a forty-pound breaching charge on his cockpit.

“Where the hell did they get it?” Quintus said. “We were assuming they found a depot, or even a Halstead style find, but even at the height of the Star League, nobody had units like this!”

No. Nobody did. Now the Taurians do. And they happen to hate my nation.

“And yet they’ve gone to every effort to avoid being threatening.” Melissa said. “They provide assistance against pirates, sell to both the Lyran Commonwealth and the Combine, and the majority of their recent exports are civilian in nature.” She tapped her finger against her chin. “I know that a few attempts to feel them out regarding a military alliance by Mother were quickly shut down. They value their neutrality.”

“Until Max poked them and attempted to get them into a war with us,” Hanse said. “We know we didn’t do it, and I doubt the Taurians would do this without absolute proof, both for the outside world and their own domestic opinion.” He looked around, and nodded, everyone was cleared. “Like his attempt to replace me.”

Which he thinks worked. The psychologists working with the victim of Max’s plotting had picked up dozens of trigger phrases being put into Capellan messages and propaganda. Nothing specific merely intended to lead to angry outbursts and foolish decisions. And it came close to succeeding. Hanse still sometimes woke up from dreams where he was trapped, listening to an impostor lay waste to everything he built.

A little more information trickled through, but running a multi-front war meant that Hanse couldn’t just stop everything and listen, so the day passed. At the end of it, when he was preparing to eat dinner with Melissa, Quintus came in, a unreadable expression on his face.

“What is it, Quintus?”

“A message. From the Chancellor of the Capellan Confederation, Candace Liao.”

Hanse blinked, glanced at Melissa and nodded. “Let’s hear it.”

Moments later, they watching Candace Liao standing in  a anonymous room, Justin standing by her, and a… Taurian officer on her other side.

“To Hanse Davion. My father has proven by his actions to be unworthy of his exalted position, and has suffered a nervous breakdown from that realization, and the betrayal by my younger sister, who attempted to launch a coup to take advantage of his failures. I was forced to execute her for treason.

“Therefore, I have taken command and have no intention of continuing the futile war my Father launched, and have ordered all forces to remain solely on the defensive, and I am withdrawing as many forces as I have lift for to defend against the Free Worlds League’s attack on our borders. While requesting a truce with the Federated Suns.”   She paused, looking for all the world as if she was discussing the weather. “It is true that you can defeat us, but if you refuse a truce, our defeat will cost you, both in terms of troops lost conquering  and the trouble from occupying hostile worlds. The Confederation, unlike the Combine or Free Worlds League, will pose no threat to the Federated Suns even if we are not fully conquered, and am willing to come to the agreements you feel necessary to guarantee that. To further make my intentions clear, I have directed the office of public information to broadcast my offer of a truce, and furthermore, my renunciation of any claim to the First Lordship of the Star League, on behalf of myself and my heirs, as well as the Confederation as a whole.”

The room was absolutely silent.

“Furthermore, I have determined, that in order to fulfill the dictates of filial piety, I shall accompany my father to Samantha. I shall leave Justin Xiang  here for he has my absolute confidence that he will not take actions to endanger the peace, and I am certain you will take no actions regarding your prodigal son.  I do believe that having a representative meet me in order to negotiate a permanent treaty would be an excellent use of your time.” She paused and let a small smile touch her face. “Also, I have requested the Taurian government to temporarily take over security duties for several duchies, as our fleet and military cannot do so. I will inform you as to Protector Edward’s decision”

“Son of a bitch,” Hanse murmured. “A surrender.”

“Negotiated,” Melissa said. “Quintus, your son. I am…sorry.”

“You may not have to be, your majesty,” Quintus looked at Hanse and he nodded. “He’s been serving as a deep cover agent for us. Although…”

“Prodigal Son.” Hanse nodded. “The prodigal son is accepted home with rejoicing. I wonder how long she’s known.”

“I don’t know, but… I almost miss Max,” Quintus said. “She sent us a list of worlds that she is requesting Taurian “assistance” for, and they include most of the bordering worlds, up to the Menke Duchy—including Victoria.”

“Why…” Melissa murmured. “Unless… she knows that you have been trying to build better relations, as has my mother. If that holds firm, then we wouldn’t risk a confrontation with the Taurians and they’re simply not big enough to absorb those worlds.”

“And so, eventually the Confederation might be strong enough to take them back, or negotiate for them, since they’d still maintain a strong Capellen culture.” Hanse nodded.

“And it frees up more troops to deal with the Free Worlds League.”  Quintus added. “I expect the stab in the back has not made our new Chancellor overly happy.”

“Edward might not agree,” Melissa said. “But until he gives a decision, we really can’t risk it…”

“So worst case, she’s got at least part of the border locked down.” Hanse nodded. “Who should we send?”

“Not you, Hanse.” Melissa said. “Trust me, I interacted with the Taurians, and well, I don’t think there would be private assassination attempts, but anything you said…”

“True. Do you have a suggestion than?”

“Well,” his wife said. “Candace and I might have a few things to talk about between negotiations, and who knows, I might be able to open the Taurians up to official trade with the Federated Suns. That can also prove to my friends back home that I haven’t gone native, and decided that money is useless compared to the might of a battlemech.”

Hanse laughed.

[Daryk]

Well played all around! :D

[Korzon77]

“Hello, my little Chickadees!” Kim Reynard said. Known as “the Fox” (no relation to the Demon of New Avalon), he was the most senior and arguably best public defender in the Concordat. “How are the death threats coming?”

“We’ve already exceeded the Millar Child Abuse case threshold.” His assistant said. “And the fact that the Protector has promised us both security and relocation funds should we get him off, fills my heart with not-so-great glee.”

“Don’t be upset Tara, what’s becoming the most hated people in the Concordat next to winning an impossible case.” He glanced at his staff. “Bad news, we may not get help from the Liao’s. Most of their attorneys are refusing to participate in this farce. Smart bet is that they’re a bit more afraid that helping him out would annoy the new Chancellor, and failing would annoy the old Chancellor’s allies. Good news, we’ve got a couple of law professors from the college who studied Capellan law, and they can advise us.”

Everyone nodded at that. The laws applied were Taurian, but the orders had come down—if possible, the case was to be conducted in accordance with both sets of laws to avoid accusations of “victors justice”.

“So, since not all of you have had a case like this, what are the big issues? Mac?”

“Does he demand to handle his own defense?”

“Got it in one. We can’t force him to listen to us, and something tells me, a guy who used to have the title “Celestial Wisdom” isn’t good on listening. If he does that, we have to stand by to advise, but we can also run interference with Judge Richards.”

“Maybe us it as an insanity…” Tara shook her head. “No. The nature of the evidence shows he was sane when he gave the orders. At most we could get a delay.”

“Not insanity, but diminished capacity?” Mac asked. “You said it yourself, the title is “Celestial Wisdom”. Get him up and examined by some shrinks, we can argue a long-running case of losing the ability to consider the consequences of his actions.”

“What does that get us?” Reynard asked.

“Life in prison rather than death,” Mac replied. “I mean, forgive me, sir I know this is loser talk, but even if say, they throw out the murder charges from the dropship sabotage, which I can’t see any way of doing, all the other crimes would keep him in for several lifetimes.”

“We could argue sovereign immunity,” Tara said. “And if we do, I want to take the protector up on that offer of “moving anywhere but here.” When Edward sends orders that gets people killed, nobody throws him in prison.”

“It’s not illegal because a ruler does it?”  Reynard asked. “Downsides?”

“It was a war crime,” Mac replied. “Edward has never given an order that would result in civilian casualties as the primary goal like this attack did, and if he did, his officers would be bound to disobey. All the prosecution has to do is bring up the death toll in Sian compared to Samantha.”

“And there’s no declaration of war or even hostilities,” another defender mentioned. “And of course the murder of the petty officer on his orders. Murder with special circumstances.”

“Could we get him to plead guilty, express remorse, and throw himself on the mercy—never mind. I’m hearing his response as I’m saying it…”

“But…” Tara paused. “If we want to go for the bugnuts crazy argument, hit him with that question on the stand. If he melts down…”

“Risky.”  Reynard said.

“What if he refuses to acknowledge the court?” Mac asked. “Just sits there?”

“We use that as a sign of mental detachment, a fundamental inability to confront reality.” Reynard paused. “Ladies and Gentlemen, some of you are new, so before I divide you all up into groups, I want to remind you of something. We all dream of defending the innocent man, railroaded by a corrupt system. That happens once or twice in our careers. More often than not, we defend the guilty, or we defend monstrous people, or just scum, because they happen to be innocent this time. But the only way we have a chance of protecting that rare innocent man is to never let the system get away with: they’re guilty so who cares if we do it right?  Even if we take away what he did to us, this man has more blood on his hands than any murderer you’ll ever defend. But we still do our best. Our absolute best, within the law. Now let’s get started. We’ve got a long night ahead of us.”


“I had thought that with the conclusion of the events in the Confederation, our worries were over,” Mary said. The people on the other side of the desk said nothing.

“So, you got into a bragging match with some locals.”

“Well, they said their steam-powered crap took more skill than our hovers and—“

“And you said any Taurian could drive anything, whereupon you decided to show them, by ah, borrowing one of their steamer trucks.”

There were no words in response.

“And then, you lost control of the steamer.”

“I, uh… kinda…”

“Ramming it through Jessica’s Body Art, fortunately closed, Michael’s Diner, also closed and then into a slaughter house for some pigs. And that was when the boiler exploded, frying two hundred pigs. I have a receipt here for them. King Grimm delivered it himself.”

Laughing his ass off. Mary decided not to bring that up.

“And of course, when we got you back to base, the medical check, well, what was the diagnosis? Right. ‘Could process your blood for an ICE engine.’” 

“We… sort of were celebrating.”

“Don’t worry,” Mary said. “Now, we can either do this officially…”

“No Ma’am!”

“Good, good. The King has said that so long as the damage is repaired, he’s okay. I’ve already paid for the pigs and other damage and you…” Mary smiled. “You can help out in another way.” She gestured, and two troopers put tools down. Picks, sledgehammers, and other goods.”

“Ma’am?”

“Since this started because you decided to trash talk some local technology, I figured you can now see how it works. You’ll assist in the rebuilding of the damaged structures, using manual tools, under the direction of local architects.”

“But…that’ll… take a while…” the second trooper wilted under Mary’s gaze.

“No it won’t!” Mary said, and now she had a bigger smile on her face. “Because your platoon was there, evidently cheering you on, I figure they also want to participate in this alliance-building exercise. They’ll be right next to you, and I’m certain they’ll be grateful for the chance at some good exercise. Dismissed.”

The two scuttled out. Mary sighed. The pirates had been laying low, and now troops were getting bored. Gotta figure out something to do. Then she looked at the news report, already old when it got to them, showing the Chancellor being marched out of his palace.

At least it wasn’t you overthrowing a government, this time. Once was enough for her.

[Korzon77]

Tiepolo’s voice was calm. He congratulated himself for that. “So, Precentor Taurus, would you mind explaining how we missed… this?” he gestured at the screen, the security monitors showing the hulking battlesuits escorting Candace Liao into the HPG complex.

“They were better on Opsec,” the subject of his ire said. “We did forensic accounting, figured they were spending money on projects involving old tech, and this body agreed, that they’d probably found a complex that was letting them access lost civilian technology. Clearly, we were wrong. They have found…” He glanced over to where the window on far off Taurus was letting in the early afternoon light. “A library.”

“What makes you so certain?”

“The other assumption is that they found objects they could replace, or a repair depot—but what repair depot fixes both capital class weapons and infantry battlesuits—“

“Infantry battlesuits that they are deploying in mass units,” Nicholas Cassnew said. “Infantry battlesuits that show extensive training. If any of you are hoping this is simply a cache, you may rest assured that you are wrong.”

“I move that Precentor Taurus be removed for his complete failure.” Myndo Waterly snarled.

“Well, that is this august body’s right, but I think we should first ask why Comstar, and in fact, you, Precentor Dieron, provided codes for the Capellan agents that precipitated this affair.”

Everyone fell silent. Tiepolo watched Myndo. He knew, and Will had provided him with the information. That would be enough to save the position of Precentor Taurus. What Myndo said would determine her fate.

“What?” Villius Tejh said, face turning white. “You were responsible for this? Our order is dedicated to maintaining the stability of the Inner Sphere and you did this?”

“It is our position to prop up the Capellan Confederation due to their weakness. Maximilian requested assistance setting up an intelligence conduit, in case the Taurians chose to ally with the Federated Suns. I agreed, in the interests of peace. It is clear that he, ah, exceeded his stated intentions.”

“Exceeded?” Tejh blinked. “He killed 50,000 civilians! As of now, that is nearly 1/2 the total civilian death toll of the war! If the Taurians find out that we were behind—“

“Do you think we should inform them, Will?” A few others stiffened at the familiarity. It was a sign. Precentor Taurus’ position was in no danger.

“I’d like to. But if we do…” Will shook his head. “No. It was sheer chance that the organized crime syndicate decided they were bigger patriots than crooks, and the trail goes cold from there. After all, despite Precentor Dieron’s lapse in judgment, she is only guilty of… letting some people make phone calls.”

Myndo’s jaw tightened, but she said nothing else.

“Of course,” Will continued, “This all happened because someone got clever. The Tuarians know they’re outgunned and outnumbered by everyone else, and they only deployed these tools because they were forced. If we don’t poke them, they won’t poke us.”

“I disagree. This technology will now proliferate. A house lord has been dragged off his own planet in Chains.” Tejh said. “We have to find a way to control it.”

“Holy Shroud could show us the way—“ Myndo fell silent at Tiepolo’s cleared throat.

“Holy Shroud worked during a major war. Second Holy Shroud failed. We must use other methods.”

“Most of those methods will fail, Primus,” Will said.

“Perhaps Precentor Taurus is not fully in tune with Blake’s will.”

“Enough, Myndo. But explain.”

“What’s to explain?” Will said. “This entire conflict has, for the most part, bypassed civilian facilities. No mech regiment set nukes to deny a city to their enemy, or take out a city that their enemy is holding. That means people are more willing to invest, and investment means more money in the system for things like research and development—and not just for military development. This is not the place for this discussion, but I think we need to consider that Blake, for all that he was a wise man, was a man, and was not provided with the gift of prophecy. And that means we have to consider what course will be suited to the spirit of his desires, an Inner Sphere at Peace.”

Tiepolo did a quick count. Myndo looked like she wanted to murder Will, but the others seemed to be interested—or they were better at concealing their feelings.

“As you have said. This is not the time for such discussions. However, I expect that first all of you who help lead Our Order, will remember the virtue of caution in your actions, especially when those actions might harm your comrades. Secondly, Precentor Taurus, this upcoming trial gives us an opportunity to stress the importance of neutrality. As unnerving as these developments are, it will be some time before the rest of the Inner Sphere can make use of them—unless an alliance is made, and so we will do our best prevent that alliance.”

“Yes, Primus.”

A few minutes later, and Tiepolo was alone in his office, the monitors dark. He winced at a twinge and took a pill, washing it down with some water.

Damn you, Myndo. The Taurians just wanted to be left alone, and it was clear what Myndo had been playing at—arranging a war between them and the Federated Suns, possibly breaking their alliance with the Lyran Commonwealth. She was ambitious and unwise, a dangerous combination. But I can’t get rid of you yet. She had supporters, and for all that Myndo didn’t have a religious bone in her body, she wasn’t unwilling to play to the belief of some in the Order that Blake looked down upon them and judged them.

Not that I can say I don’t play to the same mindset, now and then. After all, he would, tomorrow, publicly be conducting a service of meditation and mourning at Blake’s Tomb, reminding all to think of the dangers of technology turned to unrighteous use.

He sighed and shook his head. Time to get some sleep.




“The Capellens are done, Father,” Theodore said. He was alone with his father, standing over a map in the situation room. “We have reports of Federated Suns units taking worlds with barely a shot being fired. The Free Worlds League has started an invasion, and they have taken most of Shiba and Altorra Duchy, although the threat reinforcements from the Federated Suns border may be slowing them down. The only thing that will keep House Liao from being utterly destroyed is Hanse’s likely unwillingness to occupy an entire nation that would tie his forces down.

And so much for your alliance. It had come apart at the seams the moment it had been tested. While you were chasing the Dragoons, the Lyran Commonwealth and Federated Suns have secured a near insurmountable advantage.

“And the Taurians?” Takashi asked.

“They have withdrawn their forces from the Commonwealth, with the exception of…” he gestured at the map. “These provinces, including Menke Duchy. They have not invaded however, and according to our ambassador, are remaining at the request of Chancellor Candace to maintain order and protect from pirate incursions.”

“And keep the Davions from devouring more of her nation. Do we have any official statements?”

“Just one, but it is listed as preliminary and likely will be expanded on. The Protector of Taurus has declared that his nation will not annex worlds, save by their “Freely expressed will.” Take that as you will.”

“I spoke with their ambassador today,” Takashi said. “About purchasing more battlemechs to make up for our losses. He was not certain how much he could expand trade, but pledged to fulfill the current contracts. What does that say to you.”

“They wish to maintain their neutrality.” Theodore said. “That… idiot Max.”

“Agreed. My… focus on the Dragoons was unwise. I must consider wisdom, even if it is painful.”

“Father?”

“We will seek a truce. The Lyrans do not have the same belly for conquest as the Federated Suns, and the Federated Suns will be occupied with the remnants of the Confederation. You have done… well, with the groups you command. We must form more regiments like that.”

Theodore blinked, for a moment wondering if this was some test.

Takashi laughed, the sound bitter. “Do not mistake me, Son. A Samurai’s blade is the equal to ten lesser warriors…” Then he expanded the map. “But soon our enemies will be able to match every samurai with twenty warriors. We must improve our industry—it is clear that the Free Worlds League will let the Dragon stand or fall on its own.” He paused. “There will be much resistance, for that reason I believe it is time for you to take the position of  Gunji-no-Kanrei, so that all know you speak with my voice.”

“Father…”

“Do not be mistaken. We will not always agree.” Takashi’s smile was bemused. “But I have been given to thinking of my father. Hohiro knew that he was right, and never entertained a thought to the contrary. Much of my early time as Coordinator was spent undoing the results of some of his decisions. But it is clear that in order to survive, the Dragon must be united.”

“As you say, father.”